#But I'm also quite partial to the one of his glasses pulling his hair back haha - I was almost tempted to go that direction!

[sysig]

Art trade request for my darling child Lucifer please!

Day 21 - Quiet please, you're blushing very loud

[bloodiedrogue]

WTF ARE WE TALKING FOR?

SUMMARY: Zayis and Astarion argue their way through the insides of the Nautiloid!

PAIRING: Astarion & Zayis (OFC)

WORD COUNT: 5,400

WARNINGS: Canon typical violence, old married couple style bickering mostly.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to everyone who's been so kind to Zayis! I love her dearly so I'm very glad there's people out there that are enjoying her too. :') Also big inspo for this chapter goes to Labrinth and this song.

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST

-

Zayis is upright and locked in place the first time she comes to. Against the mechanism that holds her down, her eyes slowly flutter open, working to focus on the dimly lit area in front of her, noticing it’s all flesh and bone —a structure that looks to be inside of something foreign. 

As she blinks, the first thing she sees is the bubbled cover over top of her, shielding her from further movement as her eyes dart back and forth, suddenly focusing on the tissue that covers the walls. Narrowing her eyes at the weblike strands of muscle, she quickly wonders if they’re truly made of flesh or not before spotting a couple of unfamiliar structures. 

The first is a series of pod-like containers similar to the one she currently finds herself encased in. All of them are set up in a deliberate circle, facing each other so that she can see the other people trapped inside. For now, all of them are knocked unconscious except for a brown-haired man who doesn’t seem to notice her. Looking around, his eyes are wide as they work to scan the area, stopping every so often to narrow at specifics. 

Just like her, his body is tethered to the contraption they both find themselves in, forcing his hands to remain at his sides as he grits his teeth and begins to struggle. Watching him shift, Zayis immediately attempts to do the same, feeling the pull of her shackles restrict her movement as she rolls her shoulders, trying angrily to slither out somehow. 

When it doesn’t work she merely huffs and begins to look around again, noticing in the corner of the room there’s a sort of work table occupied by a cloaked body. Standing tall against its edge, Zayis cocks her head and tries to get a better angle somehow, failing quite miserably when she accidentally bonks her head against the glass. 

Suddenly startled, she scrunches up her face and pulls back, watching the man from before catch her attention, his eyes growing wider —a newfound desperation filling his features. Aggressively, his mouth moves across her sightline, forcing her to focus on the way it curls beneath his well-groomed beard, attempting to garner further attention. Failing, however, to convey his message thanks to the distance between them.

Unbeknownst to this though, the man continues repeating his words, widening his mouth to the point where Zayis merely shakes her head and scowls, causing him to furrow his brow before repeating the process —this time with actual words.

His voice is faint. A muffled echo that hits the lid of her pod but she still understands. “Mind flayer,” he says, partially clear, causing the words to hit her ears like a stack of tumbling books, sending her mind on a journey of emotions as she looks back at the worktable. 

Almost immediately, the body that resides there stiffens at the sound of the stranger’s voice. Stretching its spine to its full extent, there’s only about half a second before it fully turns, revealing the aforementioned creature in all its horror, prompting Zayis to whine. 

She’s always had an irrational fear of mind flayers, despite knowing their presence is few and far between inside the walls of Baldur’s Gate. Even as a child she was always teased when the topic was brought up —laughed at whenever she shuddered at the thought of seeing one in person. 

Now that she’s face to face with one, all she can think about is her brother. How when she was seven she lay terrified under the covers of her bed, listening to the endless theatrics of Dharmir’s voice describing the way they’d brainwash their victims by sticking tadpoles in their eyes. 

Immediately, her own eyes twitch at such a thought, pulsing almost rapidly to match the lack of breath that hits her chest once she realizes that that’s most likely what she’s about to experience. How, as her brother deeply described, she’ll be gifted with her own little wriggler before turning into a mind flayer herself in just a matter of days. 

Reluctantly remembering this information, a wave of anxiety hits then. The uneasy feeling quickly blooming out from the depths of her stomach —rushing so quick that she can feel it take over her body in a matter of seconds, pushing her limbs to violently shake against the shackles that hold her, watching as the aforementioned creature turns, making her squeal. 

If she wasn’t so terrified by the image of the mind flayer’s violet eyes encased in dark obsidian, she’d be closing her own in embarrassment. Attempting to regain her composure, she watches it begin to move forward, practically slithering beneath its long, dark cloak until it’s face-to-face with the window of her pod. 

When it arrives, she all but freezes upon the impact of its icy stare, suddenly hearing the echoing facts of her brother’s twelve-year-old voice telling her of her future. Telling her that it’s only a matter of time before the tadpole burrows into the backing of her eye to nestle up against her nerves. 

Trying not to think about it, she swallows hard and stares as it motions outward with the wave of its hand, triggering a click within the hood of her enclosure. Seemingly out of nowhere, it hisses open on command, wafting a heavy breeze across her exposed skin, making her shiver for a moment before she opens her mouth, attempting to speak.

Unsurprisingly, nothing comes out. Not even a nervous squeak like before. Instead, all that happens is her jaw begins to clench. Both sets of teeth tightening together as she imagines the lower half of her face being ripped apart to make room for the same tentacles she now sees before her. 

Tentacles that move when she suddenly wines, gliding through the air almost absentmindedly, forcing her stomach to churn, knowing any sort of attempted communication is futile. Because while the creature is upright, sure, moving closer and closer until it’s practically breathing in her face and blinking, she knows it’s not of its own accord. No, something’s commanding it —guiding it to raise one of its appendages to stroke her cheek while another unfurls her greatest fear. 

The tadpole is small in its gasp. Wiggling against the cool-toned flesh of the flayer, it skitters loudly and inches towards her face, sending Zayis into another fit of panic that has her throwing herself back in an attempt to increase the distance, despite knowing it’s all for naught. Knowing that —in all her anxiously spurred research over the years— very rarely do people survive a mind flayer attack. 

Which makes sense, considering how powerful they’re known to be. Having a seemingly limitless amount of power, it’s no wonder both she and Astarion were caught off guard. How before either of them could even think to retaliate they were already lost to the darkness of their shared unconsciousness. 

In less than a couple of seconds they were rendered useless. Knocked into submission and torn from their respective lives; a thought that makes Zayis panic even harder as she cranes her neck to the side, trying to spot the elf.

Despite the obvious excitement of the tadpole as it continues to creep closer, all Zayis can do is focus on the pods. One by one, as each flashes through her vision, she explores the features of each contained person. A dark-skinned man, a Githyanki woman —the bearded man practically shaking himself to death. Most of them lie unresponsive, lost to a sea of blissful unawareness as the man directly across from her starts to yell. 

This time she can’t quite hear what he’s saying. Too focused on finding Astarion, her mind blocks out the pleading sounds he emits, giving her eyes more attention as she finally lands on his pale face. 

It’s in and out of consciousness. From across the way, she can see his eyes trying to pry themselves open, his head slowly falling back until it hits a certain point and he’s jostled awake. 

As soon as that happens Zayis yells his name. Over and over, her voice carries far better than that of the other man thanks to her open pod, hitting his ears after about the fifth go, grabbing his attention just as the tadpole hits her cheek. 

Despite wanting to remain calm, she all but lets out a nervous sound and looks down as it happens, watching through her peripherals as it begins to inch up her skin, leaving behind a mucus trail. Once again, attempting to rip herself out of the pod, her body shakes with newfound intensity at the feeling, discarding the sight of Astarion, who follows suit a few pods down, calling her name in response. 

“Fuck, fuck fuck…” 

Her chest heaves at the unwanted anticipation. Aching in a way she hasn’t felt in quite some time, her lack of composure makes it hard to register the fact that the tadpole is now at her eye, poking the edge with curiosity —testing the waters before it inevitably dives in, prompting her to scream.

It’s more painful than she ever could have imagined. Comparable to that of a stab wound, its teeth rip through the edge of her cornea, laying waste to her nerves as bouts of blooming pain radiate across her face the further it gets. 

It makes her wish she was already dead. Instead of enduring this pain she knows will only end in the dying of her own mind, she wishes she could yell for Astarion to chuck his blade at her head. To kill her before she can turn into the same creature that stands before her, staring with empty eyes as she continues to cry and squirm, eventually letting the agony of it all overcome her. 

-

The second time she comes to, her pod is hissing open again. 

Stirring awake, the jump from confusion to awareness is much quicker this time, lasting only a couple of seconds before she’s leaping onto the ground, stumbling to her knees. Groaning low, she whips her head up to look around, noticing the open pods that lay strewn about, all of them empty aside from the one Astarion sits in, eyes shut tight in annoyance. 

Upon noticing this, Zayis shakily stands and palms the base of her wrists, rubbing rough patterns into the bruises that have formed as she tries her best to move as efficiently as possible. 

Still in the pod, Astarion remains unaware of her presence as she does this. Too caught up in whatever thoughts float through his mind, he’s completely still up until the point Zayis slaps a palm to the cover, making him jump. 

“You fucking —this isn’t the time for games, you idiot! Get me out of here!” 

Immediately, she laughs and steps back, taking in the way he grits his teeth —a newfound expression of annoyance lacing his features.

“An old fashioned please might be nice.” 

“Oh, piss off.” 

He rolls his shoulders against the shackles, ignoring her as he grunts with every pull, prompting Zayis to look around the room again. 

Unlike before the space is completely ruined. Subtle flames lick the edges of the room, threatening to further ignite amongst the rubble that’s been uplifted throughout. Narrowing her eyes further, her gaze eventually wanders to the body of the mind flayer. Partially burnt and no longer breathing, she ignores Astarion’s continued pleading to let him out in favour of looting the creature's pockets, finding a well-worn blade as well as what looks to be some kind of rune. 

“Yes! Wonderful idea! Focus on stealing Illithid garbage rather than saving your only chance at survival!”

She turns on her heel, running her finger along the edge of the knife as she wanders back, giving him a smug look. “I’d say my chances are better than yours, Fangs. All things considered.” 

“They’d grow greatly with help though, wouldn’t they?” 

“Hm, would they?” Her brow quirks up as she shoves the mind flayer’s knife into the holster on her hip, debating the odds. Sure, with Astarion, if they’re ambushed in any way their chances of surviving are nearly doubled. Considering they’re both skilled fighters and have developed a strong compatibility on the battlefield, it’s very rare they ever lose. Often fighting as dirty as possible, their ability to play off one another without much thought has become second nature —an unspoken language of movement after years of practice. 

Because of this, Zayis knows she should let him out, that instead of being resentful of his constant poor attitude, she should be happy that he’s willing to work with her instead of against her. Especially because it’s not every day he comes around so willingly.

“If I let you out are you going to be nice?” 

Unsurprisingly, Astarion huffs and rolls his eyes. “Yes, fine. I’ll be nice. Whatever you want. Just please get me out of this damned thing I’m starting to lose feeling in my fucking hands.” 

His body returns to its previous struggle, knocking about the pod violently while Zayis tries to find a way to get him out. 

“Did you see how it opened?”

“No.” 

She sighs and turns towards the mind flayer again, trying to remember how it opened hers. In the moment, all she saw was the flick of its finger. A simple motion used to pry the contraption open. Nothing physical in the slightest. 

“I think it used its powers to open it.”

“Really? I never would’ve guessed.” 

His voice is laced with a sarcasm she doesn’t enjoy. Looking back to glare at him, she narrows her eyes and tries to focus on the pod, glancing at all the etchings that surround the glass. The designs are intricate, looking almost veiny, curling up to wrap around the glass container Astarion still sits in and ultimately, it just makes her shudder to remember how it felt. 

“Maybe I could—“

“Could what? Will it open with your mind?” He lets out a single ha, sounding so patronizing that Zayis can’t help but want to leave him right then and there. 

“Well, do you have any other ideas?” 

“A few. None that you’ll listen to though.”

Proving his point, Zayis closes her eyes and focuses on the pod instead of listening, feeling nothing but the pulsating ache behind her eye that reminds her of the creature that now sits there.

Instantly, a shiver runs up her spine at the thought, her body twitching as it stirs awake, prompting the pain to worsen. Then, all at once, her head begins to feel like it’s splitting open. Raising her hands to her face, she grips her temples tightly and doubles over, feeling a body of hands lay waste to her frame —all of them weighing her down for merely a moment. Grabbing handfuls of her skin, they work together to bring her to the ground as they laugh, their cackles pushing through her head until suddenly everything is normal again. As if nothing ever happened.

“What the hells was that?”

She turns to Astarion who’s breathing rather heavily, his chest rising and falling at such a rapid pace Zayis can’t help but feel a bit worried. It’s not like him to rattle so easily. Having endured enough bullshit in his time, he’s quite possibly the most resilient person she knows. So obviously, whatever it was he saw in that moment must’ve really spooked him. 

“The tadpole’s doing, probably.” 

Despite not knowing if that’s true, Zayis says it so confidently that all Astarion does is give her a quick nod, watching her spring into action once again, sifting through the room for clues until she eventually finds some sort of control panel. Once there, she gently runs her hand along the face, trying to find her way around until she remembers the rune. 

There’s a hole that’s about the same size at the centre of the panel. Taking it from her pocket, she turns the object over and studies the markings, running her fingers along the edge before she ultimately decides to take a chance and shove it in. 

As soon as she does, her mind wanders to the image of the pod opening like before. Of the mind flayer standing in front of her with its raised hand, willing her release. In clear detail, she can see the twitch of its index finger —the way its subtle movement previously pushed the whole thing open.

As she does this, that familiar hiss rings out, causing her to see the breath of relief Astarion lets out once the air hits his face. 

“Thanks gods, it was absolutely boiling in there,” he says, and immediately she rushes to his side, watching the wobbly way he reaches out to grab her helping hands before realizing what he’s doing and swatting them away. 

“Let’s get the fuck out here.”

Neither of them wastes any time. Moving through the wreckage, they quickly find themselves at a door made of flesh. One the peels open with a squelch causing both of them to cringe in response and hurry through. After that, they explore the new room they now find themselves in, Astarion moving towards a pile of fresh bodies while Zayis moves to the second floor, spotting a half-conscious man. 

His head is completely cut open, revealing a twitching brain the closer she gets. Scrunching up her nose, she watches as it forces the half-dead body around the chair it occupies, whispering muffled words into her ears until she’s directly in front of it.

Save Us from this husk!

Its voice is an amalgamation of different vocals. Layered on top of each other, the sound immediately piques Zayis’s interest, willing her to take a half step closer in response. “Save you?” 

Please! Before they return!

Raising her brow, she quickly glances at Astarion for a second opinion, watching as he continues fishing through pockets before looking back at the creature before her, remembering that she doesn’t need one. 

“Wait, who’s they?”

The enemy! So many enemies!

The brain quivers then. Somehow nestling further into the skull it sits in, Zayis stands there a moment, beginning to weigh the options.

Because she could save the brain and risk possible deception. But something at the back of her mind tells her the creature isn’t quite intelligent enough to come up with such a plan. Considering it appears to be brand new, she’s sure the only thoughts it really knows are that of its surroundings and perhaps the memories of the human it currently occupies.

“Zayis! What the hell are you doing up there? Hurry up!”

Even when Astarion calls to her, her eyes never leave the brain as she continues to think. Instead, all they do is focus harder, watching it wiggle inside the cavity it houses, trying to break free as it speaks of needing to be saved again. 

“I think I found us a little friend!”

“A what?”

Once again, the brain asks her to let it out. In a soft, echoing chorus of voices, it begs for help until she ultimately relents, placing her hands on either side of the corpse’s skull before yanking it upward. At first, it doesn’t budge, but then she hears Astarion’s footsteps and looks up to see him frowning, causing her hands to twitch and the brain to slip from its hold, sending her tumbling backwards.

Almost immediately, Astarion sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You know, normally I’d laugh at the misfortune of you falling on your ass but considering we’re, oh I don’t know, trying not to die via Illithid I—“

Before he can finish, the brain leaps from Zayis’s hands and begins to sprout a set of legs, causing both of them to look in slight horror before it excitedly speaks of its freedom. 

We must get to the helm!

“Gods, that is truly rank.” 

Moving to stand back up, Zayis rolls her eyes and moves closer to the creature, holding her hand out to feel it brush against it, tickling her skin in the process. “Oh, it’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad? It’s a bloody brain with legs. It’s hideous!” 

She looks up at him with a pout, running her hand along the creature's grooves, feeling it wiggle excitedly beneath her grasp. “Aw, sweetheart he didn’t mean that. You’re a beautiful little brain —the most, in fact.”

After that she pulls it up towards her chest, carrying it as they move back down to the main floor —much to Astarion’s dismay.

“Just so we’re clear you’re not keeping it,” he tells her. 

“You say that like you have a choice in the matter.” Smirking, Zayis continues stroking the creature's back, listening to the happy sounds it emits while Astarion scoffs, both of them moving forward. 

“You know Vesryn’s going to have a fit when you bring that home.” 

She opens her mouth to respond —to tell him that he won’t care— but then she realizes that the possibility of even having that conversation is low. Having thrown a knife at his head before disappearing into the night with the one man he hates most, it’s a rather safe bet he’d want nothing to do with her after all is said and done.

Considering tensions were already high to begin with thanks to the constant bickering and the lack of time spent trying to mend whatever relationship was still there, she wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already moved on. 

“Good thing I’m probably not going home after this.” 

Frowning at the sudden, unthought choice of words, Zayis moves a little faster, willing her feet to follow the air that begins to violently whip through her lungs, pulling her towards a more open area. 

Once there, she discovers the outside world around them —the melting sunset sky suddenly obscured by a large red dragon rushing across their sight lines. As well as an endless sea of green that greets their eyes as they both swallow hard and look down, discovering just how swiftly they’re soaring in the air. 

“Shit.” 

As she swears, Zayis feels the brain in her arms shuffle in her grasp before it leaps in front of them, reminding them that they need to get to the helm before it’s too late, prompting Astarion to sigh. 

“You’re not seriously going to listen to that thing are you?”

“You mean the thing that probably lives here and knows where everything is?” 

She shoots him an angry look —one he reciprocates with nothing more than a scoff as he brushes past, knocking his shoulder against her’s in the process, making her groan because even at his most helpful he still manages to be so insufferable it hurts. 

Which makes the situation they find themselves in that much more annoying, knowing he’s more than likely just doing it on purpose. That instead of grinning and bearing it like she’s at least trying to, he’s deliberately making things difficult for her. (Something he always does instead of communicating that she’s done something wrong.)

Because of this, she assumes it’s due to the incident in the alleyway. Or rather, the conversation had before the alleyway that almost led them to do something irrevocably stupid. Considering she herself is guiltily pissed off at the interruption herself, she can only imagine how he’s feeling. With all that pent-up anger and frustration he often maintains, he’s probably thinking of a million ways he’d like to kill the flayers that interrupted them as he continues to stomp his way forward, prompting Zayis to reluctantly follow. 

“You know, being pissed off at me for something I had no control over isn’t very fair.”

She’s not sure why she’s bringing it up. Especially now. If anything they should be focusing on the task at hand —following their little brain friend to the helm or whatever the hell it’s called so that they can leave and live their final days in peace. 

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

“No?”

He shakes his head, refusing to meet her eye. 

“Fine. I’ll drop it then. No need to dwell on the past as they say. Better to move forward and—“

He whips around and stares, narrowing his eyes at the way her face breaks out into a smirk. “I’m not annoyed at that,” he says then, waving his hand around nonchalantly, making her raise a brow. “I’m annoyed at you and your inability to focus for the slightest of moments!”

“Excuse you, I focus!” 

“No you don’t!”

“Yes—“

“Zayis, right now we are on an Illithid ship with tadpoles for brains and you’re over here playing nice with that thing, acting like it has the authority to tell us where to go!”

She opens her mouth to argue but fails when she watches him shake his head and laugh, mocking her in that familiar tone. 

“I mean, honestly, I’m normally all for the submission of chaos and all it’s pleasantries —you know that— but right now I am far more interesting in getting off this bloody ship so I can stop looking at your fucking face for five minutes!”

By the time his outburst is done, Zayis can’t help but hold in a laugh, watching the way his eyes go wide and his hair falls wildly out of place. It’s, unfortunately, more entertaining than effective, prompting her to clear her throat and hold her tongue, allowing Astarion his one moment of peace before they’re interrupted by a sound overhead. 

It’s subtle enough that it could just be the wind but regardless both of them look up, freezing in place once a figure dive-bombs from above, landing directly in front of them with their sword. As it happens, they both take half a step back, watching as a Githyanki woman snarls in their face, pointing the weapon just shy of Zayis’s throat as she calls her an abomination. 

“Excuse me?”

Snarling in response, the woman parts her teeth slowly before all at once that familiar pain inside Zayis’s head erupts, prompting everyone to groan, feeling it too. 

In an instant, her mind aches with newfound visions —ones of dragons flying overhead, their vibrant red scales gleaming off the edge of a silver sword that’s tossed through the air, landing just shy of her face. Breathing hard, she can feel the presence of an unknown threat creeping closer before a white hot flash eventually hits, resulting in the vision’s inevitable passing. 

As it leaves, all three of them are left a bit breathless, prompting the Githyanki to cautiously lower her sword and focus on Zayis. “You are no thrall.”

“I beg your pardon?” Astarion asks, shooting her an annoyed look while Zayis merely narrows her eyes, feeling utterly confused. 

“I will sooner slit your throat then beg, ska’keth.” 

“Wait, what? No, that’s not—”

Before he can explain further, she aggressively mutters something in her own language and then raises her sword, motioning behind her. “We must get to the helm before it’s too late,” she tells him, both her and Zayis watching as Astarion immediately presses his palms into the sockets of his eyes, emitting a low groan that leaves Zayis specifically reeling with joy, trying not to laugh as the brain beneath their feet begins to hop around. 

Yes! The helm! We must get to the helm!

It’s almost comedic the way Astarion relents —the way the base of his hands scrubs angrily down his face to reveal a wicked scowl. As it happens, Zayis can’t help but continue to bite back a grin. An air of smugness filling her features as she hears Astarion swear under his breath. 

“Oh, for fuck sakes —yes, fine, fine! We’ll go to the bloody helm!”

“Wise choice.”

After the Githyanki speaks, all four of them begin their trek, walking along the outside path until they come up on another opening that leads them back into the depths of the ship. Identical to the other rooms there’s various pods scattered throughout the room they now find themselves in, all of them devoid of life, despite the few bodies still being kept inside. 

Moving further inside, they notice that near the far edge, a cluttered desk sits with various runes strewn about, along with a chest that Astarion can’t help but race towards, prompting their new friend to groan. 

“We do not have time for this.”

Despite wanting to follow Astarion’s greedy little footsteps, deep down, Zayis knows that she’s right. As much as it pains her to not be able to root around a little herself, she understands they have to hurry. To make up for lost time especially after she’s already wasted so much evicting their little friend from his previous home. 

It makes her groan in annoyance just thinking about it, remembering that such actions are why Astarion’s so pissed off in the first place. Why, as she looks over and notices the almost bored look in his eyes as he picks up a couple of runes, quickly sifting through them before tossing them aside, she suddenly feels this newfound resentment rising through her chest. 

All at once, it takes over. As she watches him jut out his lip, pouting at the lack of interesting things he’s managed to find, she can’t help but wonder what it feels like to be such a hypocrite. To look into the face of the only person you can currently trust, chastise them for their actions, and then immediately do the same. 

It must feel like nothing, Zayis decides. At least to him. Considering he barely bats an eye as the Githyanki passes him, muttering under her breath in anger, she figures his ability to care became lost the moment he was proven wrong —a habit of his she’s experienced once or twice during their time together. 

A habit she quickly learned to just avoid altogether. Seeing as they were only ever in each other’s orbit for a few hours at a time, she’s always defaulted to avoidance. To pretend like it didn’t deeply affect her mood each time he chose to shut down or be rude or, in this case, a combination of both. 

During those moments, it was frustrating but ultimately easier than the moment she now finds herself, wandering towards him alongside the brain that squeaks out a quiet request to get to the helm again. 

“Our friend is leaving, you know,” she says once she’s there, watching as he makes no effort to showcase any interest. Opting instead to procure a lock pick from his belt. 

“Friend is a bold term.”

“Oh, shut up. She’s just trying to help us. Besides, you said so yourself that there’s safety in numbers.” 

He huffs, pausing the movements of his hands to look up at her with narrowed eyes. “Yes, but I said that so that you’d let me out. Not so we could follow around some Gith we don’t even know."

“A Gith who doesn’t know us either,” she reminds him, causing Astarion to grunt in anger and straighten his back.

“You don’t actually expect her to help us, do you?” Letting out a laugh that seems far too relaxed for the moment, Astarion shakes his head and leans a hand against the desk beside him, allowing his weight to fall to the side casually. “She’s a homicidal maniac —she threatened you with a knife!”

“Astarion, you do that to me all the time!”

“Not to harm you,” he scoffs. 

“Oh, really? Why then?”

He opens his mouth, failing to produce an answer, prompting Zayis to scoff back. 

“You know, I’m really tired of arguing with you all the time,” she says then, motioning to his frame with an open hand.

“Likewise.” 

“So, can we just not?” 

It’s a simple question. One that hangs in the air far too long to earn either of them an equally simple answer. Resulting in further frustrations that have both of them stubbornly silent, waiting for the other to speak. To give in for the slightest of moments so that they can both breathe a sigh of relief and move on. 

Something that neither of them do, causing the tension to grow as Zayis continues to stare at Astarion’s face, watching the way it all but twitches in response, resulting in her shoving his arm and wandering off with the scuttling brain.

-

@poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo@jjfchk@idiotsatan@bluestuesday@bloopthebat@art-by-greenie@heneralmoon@sukunababe@dreamingaboutyousworld@ranfithegood@haniscrying@liadamerondjarin@the-lake-is-calling@marina-and-the-memes@rookieoftheyear@zraloci-cpr@kaetmo@snickerdoodle-daydream@wowowwild@d1anna@raswiet@conniesbbymama@venus-wrts@demonicthorns@kihten@deadglamsheep@sanscas@spammypasta@leighsartworks216@rose-gold-blue@p1ssmagg0t@hellish-writes@ghostinvenus@otayz@sexysquatch@sleepyeclair@colorful-anxieties@alina-exe@ilana-the-lasagna@lillifer@girlwiththepapatattoo@y2cade@acelin-ginsberg@pinkuranium@catrad0rable@scarletrosesposts@qwnamidala@itsrosebabe@bunnyperi@queenofcarrotflowers-s@tatumadams20@spkyxszn@chlort@f3v3rs@awkwardwookie@joy-the-reader@warm-milk-with-honey-blog@vertigocrime@iyis@wildpiper@pebblethestone@tillywasneverhere@bex-03@kaetmo@revemiya@staticspouse@itzagothamcitysiren@djarinsmixtape@when-the-night-came@epicy0n@bababahannah@sleepyred1703@lotus-99@lofcompass@r4d10h34d5@vampninjaz@itsmekalou@offbrandhand@yikes-buddy@konenichi@rainonarden@oceanbluesixeyes@bodtyworship@maydayitsjay@greasyslimebucket@yeeteth-the-raven@fantasyfairysworld@allexthakatt@flowersaretheshit@morglyne@thespectacularspaceace@cephiss0@use-your-telescope@furblrwurblr@kloverfield@angelofthorr@writervaul-t@starved-kitten@minixluvr@crowley--aziraphale@sapphicwren@alionera-blog@jennithejester@dezedrol@thisisew@saladalpaca@applepiewithbacon@httpbiohazard@aurasyn@nerdoodles@kingpinthedevil@itzkawaiix@domainoflostsouls@silverskylan@uminootome@helpidkwhatimdoingwrong@deadlyinfernos@blackbirdswhispers@sarahskywalker-amadala@writingmysanity@f3v3rs@jayjones03@quietlyebbie@optimisticprime3@eyes-for-daze@sunnytalia3@megoshh@maddiedott@cappsikle@mostbeautifulnightmare@lynnlovesloki@simpytheshrimpy69@astarion-archive@smaranshakthi@autistic-deer@shadowfeart@freckled-petals@candied-lavender@hp-art-studio@ghouligan@satelliteapotheosis@waywardwitch-hel@pandimoostuff@mythoughtsofinsanity@ilovelovelylove@oneandonlyizabelle

TAGLIST NOW CLOSED!

[clovermarigold]

Daggers & Daffodils Chap.21

Dagur x reader

Shout out to my peep, Meowcat52. You're an absolute angel.

Thank you to everyone who commented, you're either really sweet or hella funny

also, what is your favorite chapter?

Enjoy the chapter.

Dagur pulled himself up towards the top of the cage with his right arm as he admired his left. He had made a habit of working out while in prison. It was why he had nearly doubled in body mass over the past three years. He didn't miss how your eyes had danced over his figure and how your breath hitched. Only more reason to do it, he thought to himself. He had missed you while he was in prison, seeing you again had been like a breath of fresh air. You were just as beautiful as he remembered, if not more. He would have liked to have talked to you longer, he was going to make Hiccup pay for taking you away from him. 

He wasn't entirely delusional; he knew that you chose to leave. He knew that you were upset with him. But that would be temporary, once the two of you had time to yourselves, he planned to make it up to you. 

His thoughts of you were interrupted when Savage trailed over to inform him that the Reaper had surfaced. "The Reaper is starting to surface, sir" Dagur's eye twitched. "I can see that!" Dagur dropped down from the cage. "Oh, right" Savage laughed nervously, causing Dagur to roll his eyes. He continued to think of you as his men plundered the newly resurfaced Reaper. Three years was a long time, even longer when in prison. Dagur, however, was positive that you were the reason he was able to get through it until his inevitable escape. Well, you and his thirst for revenge. "Dagur, now we have everything of value from the dragon hunting ship" Savage declared.

"No, not everything" in a swift throw he lodged his dagger in a drawing of the strange spyglass Hiccup had stolen from him. He would get that spyglass back, and he would get you back too. And the two of you would finally rule the Archipelago together.

The past few weeks had been crazy, it turned out the spy glass your brother found was the key to unlocking unknown dragons. You and the others nearly froze to death to get a tooth that unlocked it. To make things worse, you had to go beyond the archipelago to search for Dagur, resulting in almost dying via a death song. Though, you couldn't say it wasn't worth it when you finally found an island to call your own. It was perfect, you had managed to claim one of the few spots on the edge next to open grass, perfect for growing herbs and medicine. Silver your dragons loved it too. Scabbard made it a habit to jump off the cliff repeatedly like a game every day. Silver Tongue, well he was Silver Tongue, he seemed to like the quiet at least. 

Not to say that the edge was quiet. Quite the opposite actually, between Snotlout and the Twins you had your work cut out for you. And to add to the noise, a loud sounding crash came from your brother's hut. 

"Hiccup?" you called rushing in only to be greeted with- "Gustav?!". "Gustav" Astrid deadpanned. "Gustav, what are you doing here- I mean to what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?" Hiccup stumbles as Gustav dismounts Fanghook and begins to touch everything and stand on the table. "Hiccup! Did you hear Gustav is- standing right beside you. perfect" Snotlout fakes a smile, dying on the inside. "You're looking a little different there, Guster" Tuff says as he jumps off the table. "Yeah, I'm growing a beard" he gestures to a small singular patch of hair on his chin. 

"Really? Let me see. Ha! Even Ruff has more chin on her chinny-chin-chin than that" Tuff then plucks the patch off causing Gustav to stumble back clutching his now naked face. "Ow! Hey, what's this thing?" He grabs the dragon eye from off the table holding it backwards up to his eye, causing him to partially blind himself and nearly drop it. Hiccup swiftly grabs the dragon eye from it and passes it to Fishlegs. "It's the dragon eye, and it's very old and fragile. It isn't something to just be touched" Fishlegs scolds. "Relax, Fishlegs, I know what I'm doing" Gustav said before bumping into the wall and falling over along with one of Toothless' tails. 

"Uh, Gustav, Gustav, over here" the boy walks blindly over to you and Snotlout, who grabs him by the helmet to stabilize him. "Uh, when are you leaving?" he asks. "That's funny, Snotlout, but I'm not leaving. I'm moving here" you and the others let out a shudder and gasp. Gustav? On the edge? Permanently? Oh, no, that wasn't going to happen. You already had three "children" you were in charge of, you did not need a fourth. 

Tuff began to laugh, "Ha! Yeah, yeah you are. Imagine, he would never... Wait, he's serious" his face grew disgusted "I'll get the stake and firewood". "Oh, hold on, hold on. No one is burning anyone at the stake" Hiccup put his hands up. "Yeah, and if anyone did it would be Snotlout" you snidely remark, earning a grunt and a side-eye from him. "Hiccup's right" Ruff adds, "Let's just throw him off the cliff". 

"Guys, I'm sure there's a simple explanation... Please tell me there's a simple explanation, Gustav" Hiccup turns to him. "Yeah, very simple. By the way, do not look right into that sun sword thingy" he rubs his eyes rapidly, "Anyway, you said when I was ready, I could join the Dragon Riders. Well, I'm ready and I'm here to join. Where's my hut?"

Silence fills the hut as Hiccup registers the grave, he's dug for himself as well as the rest of you. You walk up to him and pat him on the back "Well, you have fun with this, I'll prepare everyone's eulogy, also, keep him out of my tent, the last thing I need is another patchy faced rat trying to get in there". 

Sitting in your hut you fiddle with a number of herbs, grinding them in a pestle as Scabbard purrs in your lap. It was only a matter of time before things would get messy, either from Dagur pulling another scheme or Gustav inevitably driving everyone insane, and to be honest you didn't want to be a part of either. The difference was you had a choice in the second, so you would stay held up in your room all week if you had to. Fate, or more accurately Gustav had other plans when a loud thump caused your hut to shake and send both you and Scabbard tumbling over. "Gustav!" you yell as you look through your open door to see him and Fanghook stable themselves and take off again to keep up with Astrid. "Sorry, your tent is in a really inconvenient place" you grit your teeth and slammed your door shut, Scabbard hissing in agreement. 

"Just perfect" you sigh realizing your herbs had spilt on the floor and your pestle had rolled somewhere you couldn't see. Getting on all fours you bent down to scan the floor for the stone, when a glint shined from under your bed. "What the? Scabbard, fetch" the little green menace crawled under the bed struggling to drag out your old satchel. You had brought it thinking that you would need more than just your new one considering beyond the archipelago would offer an abundance of new plant species. Unfortunately, you had yet to see anything more than a new subspecies of potato, which to its credit did tase slightly better. 

Opening the bag, you were met with the sight of an old and slightly rusted knife with a Skrill carved on the hilt. Your finger traced the carving flipping the knife to its other side where Dagur had written both of your names. As you stared at the lost treasure, Scabbard began to stick her head into the bag only to come out and sneeze a stream of fire at the dust invading her nose breaking you out of your trance. "Oh, sorry girl. I'll make sure to do some dusting this week" well, you hadn't expected this to happen of all things. Though, in a way it technically did count as Dagur ruining your week, just not in the way you had expected. Overexerted and obnoxious as he was, Dagur was sweet to you. Giving you gifts and even going as far to give up his pride and play "girly" games that were "beneath him" when you were sick the one time he visited. It hadn't even been the time for treaty signing, he had simply pestered his father until he sent him off to Berk with two guards. 

But... that was over. He wasn't going to do that anymore. As much as he wanted to, and even though you would never admit you wanted to, it could never happen. He had gone too far, your brother, Father, friends, Berk, and part of yourself would never let that happen. Placing the knife on the table you sat back in your chair and sighed, leaning back and looking up to the roof, where in the rafters Silvertongue looked down from his nap spot down at you, no doubt judging you. "Hey, I get enough of that from Astrid" Silvertongue just let out a huff of steam from his nose, retreating into his wings to sleep like a bat. Near sunset was a bit early to go to sleep but it wouldn't hurt.

And just as you predicted not long after Dagur caused a mess Gustav followed soon after. "Of all the irresponsible, insubordinate-" 

"Don't forget idiotic, imbecilic, inane... What? I've heard a lot of words for stupid. I mean come on; people say that more than my proper name" Ruff nods in agreement. "I-I-I mean, of all those kinds of stunts you could have pulled, this was the worst" Gustav winced at Hiccups rambling anger. You hated it when he got like this, when he was so upset, he couldn't even string words together properly, much less listen to reason.

"Do you know what Dagur would do to get his hands on the Dragon Eye?"

"I just thought if I came back with the treasure, you guys would accept me" Hiccup cut him off. "First of all, there is no treasure. Second of all, we've already been there. And that entire island is honeycombed with the most unstable caverns we've ever encountered" Gustav looked down. "I'm sorry, I just-".

"You could have been killed, Gustav. Fanghook could have been killed. Look this isn't Berk, Gustav. The rules are different out here. You have to be smarter that this". Gustav crossed his arms, "I just wanted to prove myself".

"Oh, you have. You have proven that you are not responsible enough, you're not mature enough, and you're not trustworthy enough to be one of us" Hiccup counted on his fingers. "Now, it's been a long day. We all need some rest; we'll talk about this in the morning". You pursed your lips with wide eyes before popping them back and walking out of the room quickly from secondhand embarrassment. For a second you thought about talking to Hiccup but decided against it. Now wasn't a great time, he was too worked up. 

The next morning when you went to the club house everyone was crowded around Hiccup holding a letter. "What's that?".

"Dagur. He wants to make a trade. You and the Dragon eye for Gustav".... well, shi-

[faulty-writes]

You do nsfw work huh... You did a pretty good job on the rumi one. :]]

Sorry English not my first language.

Can I have tenya iida x reader? Iida just manspread while reader rides him and maybe add size kink in Iidas part? Also I would prefer if you write it while they do it in the bedroom.

[ Well...thank you. I'm not partial to it and I don't want my blog to become all nsfw, but I suppose a few pieces here and there are fine as long as they are properly handled. Now...nsfw with Tenya is quite tricky and I hate reading nsfw pieces where his personality is completely changed. But, I've always wondered how I'd approach a nsfw piece with Tenya, so here's my chance I guess. Also, I tried to make this gender neutral so. ]

"Are you certain you wish to commence performing what can be described as the final and most cherished step in our relationship? I'm afraid I would need your consent before we continue," he said, carefully tightening his hands around your shoulders. His cheeks were flushed and his glasses slightly askew on the bridge of his nose.

He adored you and wanted to ensure your first time would be safe and meaningful. "I have made the bed and took the liberty of purchasing the proper sexual lubricants needed as well as the recommended safe sex products we will need before we engage in this activity," despite this being unventured territory, he wanted to take charge of the situation and ensure the two of you were as safe as possible.

"Please inform me if I cause you any pain or if you wish to stop at any moment during our...interaction, I only wish to bring you a heightened sense of pleasure," he stated as he loomed over you with goosebumps growing across his exposed skin. He rather adored how fragile you looked sprawled out underneath him.

"I believe if I fold this back, I can properly view your most exquisite area. I understand by applying pressure with my tongue, I can cause a more pleasurable response. Please inform me if it feels uncomfortable," he swallowed thickly and despite feeling nervous, he opened his mouth and slowly trailed his tongue over you. His eyes widened when he heard the rather arousing sound of your moans in return.

"I'm putting a finger in, please relax and continue to inform me of your state of being. Does this feel pleasurable?" he questioned, finding himself breathing heavily as he watched his digit disappear inside of you and your walls squeeze around him. He tried his best to ignore his body's painful response to such an erotic display and squeezed his thighs together, more focused on giving you pleasure than focusing on his own.

"Are you certain you...please be careful I don't wish for you to..." his words came to a complete stop when he felt your lips wrap around the head of his cock, this was followed by the sensation of your warm mouth swallowing him inch by inch. "P-please do not...ah...force yourself unless a-absolutely con..tent..." once again his words slipped away and in their place, satisfied moans erupted.

"Allow me to put the condom on," he stated, carefully opening the small wrapper and properly rolling it onto his erection. He poured a small amount of lubricant onto it before glancing up at you. "Please be careful, I do not wish for you to fall or injure yourself," he announced as you crouched over him, feeling his hands on your hips as he guided himself inside of you.

Your conjoined moans filled the air and Tenya's grip on your hips tightened as you repeatedly lowered yourself onto him. The mattress squeaked with each movement and your nails dug into his chest. "Y-you look quite...g-glorious on top...of m-me...does it f-feel satisfactory f-for you?" he questioned, even in the midst of the moment he continued to worry about your pleasure.

You whined when Tenya pulled you down, keeping himself buried deep inside causing you to desperately clench around his length. He was panting and covered with sweat with a few strands of his hair stuck to his forehead. He reached up to grasp the sides of your face before pulling you down to press his lips against yours. "I...I wished to remind you that my affection does not cease even in these heated moments," he explained before once more kissing you.

"Are you alright? Please tell me if anything hurts, I can retrieve ice for you and-" his words became muffled when you pressed a finger to his lips despite the pleasurable ache that coursed through your body. You wrapped your arms around him and enjoyed the after-sex bliss.

[honey-baby-blossom]

Angel - matt murdock

summary | you and your boyfriend, Matt, spend the afternoon studying for your exam, but unfortunately, get distracted easily

warnings | fluff, matt being a tease, so much love it's sickening, a little spice but not too much, gn reader insert, no use of y/n

word count | 2.2k words

notes | this is my college!matt one shot because I'm obsessed plus happy valentine's day !!!!! also @catholicdaredevil for the advice and love !!!!!!!

You didn’t quite trust the warmth in the air as you took the first few steps outside of the residency building. Your thin cardigan which you had mentally anticipated to be too thin for the chilly air was suddenly just right in the sun. You held off your excitement, pulling your bag closer to your hip as you stepped down the brick stairs and onto the stone path through the lawn.

You were partial to the cold rather than the heat. It was easier to manage the freezing temperatures rather than the hot sweat of summer. Plus, the winter just had so much goodness wrapped in it. Christmas and cozy sweaters and hot chocolate and cold hands wrapped around warm ones. But it was days like this that made you change your mind. Days of sunshine and overalls and butterflies and long meandering walks. It was days like this that made being in love feel fresh and new.

You recognized that tuft of brown shaggy hair immediately and if you weren’t running before, you were now. Your bag bounced against your leg until you reached him with your cheeks flushed and your chest heaving.

He smirked up at you from his seated position in the grass, his dark glasses soaking up all the sunlight that would usually be lighting up his warm chestnut eyes. Your excited heartbeat only quickened, and you forgot about the weather and the assignments you needed to finish, it was just him.

“It’s your turn today,” he said, straightening his posture with his back leaning against the wide tree bark. The sun was shining against his exposed arms now, but in an hour or so it would be hidden behind thick green leaves and pink flower buds that were in the earliest stages of birth on the tree limbs.

“How could I forget?” you smiled back, dropping to your knees, and finding the most comfortable position against him- a skill you perfected incredibly early on into your relationship.

His hands found your waist and helped pull you into him, his legs spreading so that you could sit between them. He let out a quiet breath of relief as your back relaxed against his chest and your head rested on his shoulder. He liked having you with him like this; it felt soothing to have the thing he loved most in a safe cocoon made of his own strength and care. It drew attention to your small frame, how he could tuck your arms and legs against your body and hold you in your entirety with one arm and use the other to rub your back or play with your hair.

Matt Murdock reminded you of a toddler in how he loved touching you. His fingertips were always searching for you, holding onto your clothes or your flesh and when he did get a part of you in his grasp, it usually ended up in his mouth. You worried that any soft part of your body would soon grow rough and calloused from how often he would rub and kiss and squeeze. The underside of your biceps, the bit of flesh between your jawline and your carotid artery, your inner thighs, the crease where your rib cage turned into your stomach. If a black light could show where you were kissed or touched the most, those spots would shine bright enough to alert NASA.

“What are we learning about today, Angel?” he murmured to you. The combination of his breath and lips tickled your earlobe, forcing out a soft giggle and twitch of your neck.

“I have my art history test later today. Or we could throw out learning entirely and practice what we’re good at,” you said, wiggling your body towards him with a shy smile. He laughed back at you, pressing a chaste kiss to your nose before turning you back around in his lap.

“Art history then. But who knows?” he smirked, kissing your shoulder up to your neck, “If you pass, we could celebrate.”

He always said things like that. little flirts and teases that would have irritated you if you weren’t so completely in love and in need of a reason for him to touch you.

“I left my books at home, we should go back and get them,” you said, trying fruitlessly to keep your heartbeat steady with the lie. He threw his head back in a laugh, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist and squeezing you into him.

You rolled your eyes and huffed, watching as his hand snaked inside your bag and pulled out the thick book you would need. You stopped wondering how a blind man could tell identically shaped books apart long ago, surrendering to the idea that maybe he was just magic. Everything about him seemed like a fairy tale anyway.

“Read to me, Angel. You know the deal,” he said, plopping the book into your lap before wrapping his arms back around you and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

You couldn’t help but smile. Every cell in your body smiled at him, your skin buzzing with warm, sweet love for the boy wrapped around you.

You flipped open the book, searching through pages to the chapter you would need for the test. Despite how much a part of you wanted to toss the book far away from you and force the boy of your dreams to kiss you instead, you wanted to pass the test and eventually the class. It was one of the only necessary courses for your major that you genuinely enjoyed, which is why you stayed patient with the flutter of excitement in your heart and began reading the words aloud.

Matt, by necessity, kept his body, mind, and feelings deeply connected. He survived through sound and touch, taste and smell. Not only were they already heightened from the lack of sight, but the accident dialed everything to one hundred. He learned to stay in perfect harmony with them, using everything he could interpret to paint a picture of the world around him. He was good at it, too, but sometimes it was too much. His senses were so easy to trigger. An intense smell or taste could make the picture he worked so hard to create disappear for a few moments and the blindness would really set in.

He welcomed that feeling with you and he finally understood the saying “love makes you blind.” He scoffed at it before. He’s always blind. But he wasn’t, not really. Not when he could win a boxing match faster than his old man used to. But when it was you…

The smell of your hair. The taste of your skin. Your lips. Your voice. Your silky skin. Your breathing. Your heartbeat. It was like you forced the spotlight in his mind to shine on you, only you. The spotlight star that existed so bright in his mind that it terminated the rest of the universe with the lightest of touches.

His eyes fluttered closed as he listened to you tell him about the themes of renaissance art and the contrasts between Greek and Spanish sculptures. He knew the information was interesting, respected it at least, but truly couldn’t comprehend a word. All he heard was your voice, dripping like cream and honey into his ears and filling up his brain. It would have put him to sleep but he willed himself to stay conscious. To stay with you. For a few more moments…

You noticed his breathing changed slowly, how it deepened and slowed. His hold on you never faltered, lips still pressed against your neck in a never-ending kiss. It worried you sometimes, how tired he always seemed. Something deep inside you wanted to let him sleep. To tuck him in and rub his shoulders, cook his meals, dress him, and make sure that he was taken care of every hour of every day so that he would never need to worry. Even if life could let you make your wish come true, he would beat you to the punch, you thought with a smile.

You moved carefully as to not wake him, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth in focus. You straddled his hips, your knees pressed sturdily into the grass on either side of him as you stayed careful not to put too much weight on him. His hold on you moved to accommodate the new position, always making sure he had you even in his sleep. You reached up and held his cheeks with a wide smile.

You used a gentle finger to trace the planes of his face. Across his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids, his lips. You licked your lips and pressed a kiss to his forehead, working your way down all the places you had just touched. It was when you reached his lips that he woke up again. His breathing caught in his throat for a moment, then he sighed into you, his hands finding your hips instantly.

“I was having the most wonderful dream,” he smiled, kissing your cheeks as his eyes slowly opened.

“Tell me,” you whispered, lips busy against his neck and jawline. You felt his heartbeat and breathing quicken, a rush of confidence pulsing through your veins.

“Just you, Angel. It’s always you,” he mumbled, turning to meet your kisses.

Kissing Matt Murdock was addictive. More than tobacco or sugar or cocaine. Maybe more than heroin on a day like this. When it was his hands searching your body for a new spot to squeeze and his sweet breath mixing with yours. His stubble scratched your cheeks in the best way, his warm skin burning across yours. A flash of the night before ran through your mind, causing your hips to twitch against his.

“Matty,” you sighed, your hands mindlessly gripping the collar of his shirt. A low growl rumbled in his chest, his heavy hands moving to your thighs, letting their grip release slightly.

“I know, Angel,” he mumbled, kissing your cheek once more before sighing and leaning back.

You looked back at him, blinking slowly to readjust your eyes to the sheer beauty of the boy against you. His lips puffy and wet, eyes up towards the sky as he blinked tiredly.

“Tell me why you call me that again. Please?” you whispered, your voice small as you blushed with the question. Matt licked his lips as he smiled, adjusting his hands against you.

“Call you what?” he smirked, letting out a soft laugh when he felt your hand smack his shoulder. He let out a deep sigh and reached up to hold your jawline, his thumb brushing across your cheek.

“I called you ‘angel’ for the first time on a Wednesday. I had woken up late for class and my shirt was on backwards and I was running to class. It was across campus and in all my running, I lost where I was,” he said, telling the story with the same enthusiasm as if it wasn’t the thousandth time you’d heard it. “But all of a sudden- “

“I love this part,” you whispered, holding his collar tighter. He nudged your fingers with his chin and pressed a short kiss to your knuckles.

“All of a sudden I heard a voice. The sweetest, clearest voice that ever rang in my ears. And like the good catholic I am, I immediately assumed it was from the heavens. The voice asked if I needed help and touched my arm with the gentleness of rose petals,” he continued the story, periodically ending his sentences with a kiss against your hands. “So, without thinking, in my rushed and tired state, I called you an angel. I felt the heat of your cheeks and heard the quickening of your heartbeat and unfortunately your humanity proved that you were not in fact an angel. Not to mention I couldn’t sense the wings. But I still, to this day, remain unconvinced. So, until God himself comes down to say you are, in fact, only human, I will call you Angel. My sweet, sweet Angel.”

Your smile felt like it would permanently alter the makeup of your face. Like it would force your bones to forever accommodate the expression to honor the fierce love and innocence of your feelings for the boy in front of you.

“I love you. Matty, I love you,” you whispered, your face pressing against his neck. You drew in as much of his scent as you could, almost tasting it in the back of your throat.

“I love you more, Angel. Always,” he murmured back, tilting your jaw upward to press the first of an endless number of kisses to your sweet lips.

[hello-nichya-here]

Hello, Nichya :) Guess who? I'm a liiittle tipsy this time, but not really. I've had a few glasses of wine lol. It's been a while since I wrote you anything in your inbox :) For some reason, I've been struggling with creativity but tonight I was thinking about Zuko & Azula as each other's first kiss as kids re-enacting Love Amongst the Dragons (the only part of the comics I consider canon). Also, I came up with this scene that is super canon compliant & now canon in my heart ;)

---

Mai and Ty Lee were asleep. They'd gone to bed hours ago. Lo, and Li's beach house was so quiet that Zuko could hear the waves crashing outside. The place was dark, with just the starlight pouring through the windows. Zuko wandered to the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water.

Zuko gazed outside, watching the waves splash against the sand, gorgeous beneath the starry sky. That was when he spotted a lone figure, walking down the sandy beach outside. Zuko and Azula had been loudly insulting the Ember Island Players' production of 'Love Amongst the Dragons' earlier. Also, they'd yet to face repercussions for destroying Chan's house the previous night. So, Zuko was on edge as he peered outside, fearing a potential revenge seeker. The person walking was familiar though. Her dark hair was pulled into a partial topknot and fell past her shoulder blades. She was wearing just her nightgown, a soft, short, dark red number.

A moment later, Zuko was walking topless and barefoot in just his slacks down the sandy beach. He reached her and waited for her to look up. When she didn't, he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Hello, Zuko."

Zuko smiled. "Hello, Azula. Having trouble sleeping?"

Azula sighed, looking down. Her expression was far away. It made something in Zuko's chest stir. "I was just remembering how much fun we used to have, seeing 'Love Amongst the Dragons' as kids." She smiled, but it was a bitter smile. "We used to love it."

Zuko didn't understand why she said it in the past tense - like there was no hope - like it meant nothing how they'd grabbed one another's hands and arms and nudged one another during the show tonight. All of his confused feelings about being back in the Fire Nation, about returning to his father, were swelling to the surface again. He wanted to yell or hit something. But Azula looked so sad.

Zuko wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close against him. It felt right. He never wanted to let go. "We still love it," he said. "I mean - that production was a mess." They both laughed, and for a moment, it was like nothing was wrong. "But yeah, it was really fun when we would re-enact it as kids."

Azula smiled, twisting toward Zuko without letting his arm slide from her shoulders. "I really missed you when you were gone, Zuko." She cleared her throat, giving him an intense look. Their faces were very close. "Though I was trapped in the body of a mortal, you willingly gave me your heart. I cannot help but give you mine in return."

There was a long pause as they made eye contact. Zuko's heart was pounding for some reason that he couldn't quite explain. He didn't know what to say. Theatre had always been a nice way to counteract that though. Reciting lines was easier than coming up with anything original.

"Only with your glory hidden in false form could you finally recognize my devotion."

Zuko knew what was coming before it happened. They weren't tiny children, playing an innocent game anymore. The games they were playing now were much more dangerous. A thousand emotions washed over Zuko as Azula pressed her lips to his. He kissed her back, wrapping both arms around her shoulders, digging his hands into her hair. She touched his chest, crushing her lips to his as her tongue slid into his mouth, brushing his. Zuko never wanted the kiss to end, and he was determined to throw her off all at once. So it was with conflicted uncertainty that he drew away. They were both panting.

"We should go to bed," Azula said. Her voice was almost steady - almost the certain, commanding voice that Zuko associated with his perfect sister. There was a slight shake to it though. That sent a rush of warmth to his center.

Zuko nodded. "I'll walk you to your room."

God, this was perfect! You know how to pull at my heart strings, dear friend.

Also Azula better ask him to spend the night with her, even if all they do is cuddle.

[fivenightsatfreddysfanfiction]

Ringleader

.

There was an animatronic in Parts and Service he hadn't seen before.

Freddy's ears twitched as an unsettled feeling crept over him, eyes remaining fixed on the figure behind the glass. He was sure he hadn't seen her before, but for some reason he just didn't feel right looking at her. A scan would probably identify the animatronic, but the thought of running one on her just increased the unsettling feeling, like little sparks of electricity dancing through his wires at just the wrong voltage to make him cringe.

Gregory was busy with looking over some notes and images elsewhere in the room, so Freddy was left standing idly near the containment chamber with the other animatronic. From her appearance, she looked like she fit the aesthetic of the Pizzaplex with her snug shoulderless top, drape-like skirt, fingerless gloves and heeled boots. Artificially red hair tumbled from her head in an off-center ponytail, wild and tousled like Roxy's hair, with shimmering bits of confetti strung through. Her casing, silvery-white, gleamed eerily under the flickering light of the chamber, and the bright red circles painted on her cheeks, lining her wide, frozen smile, stood out all the more starkly. Luminous green eyes stared right back at him, and Freddy was sure he would shiver if he could.

"Who are you?" he found himself asking and blinked, but it was too late to take the question back. The other animatronic tilted her head, still watching him, her hands oddly raised at her sides, faint light glowing from her fingertips.

"..Glamrock Baby," she replied after a length of silence. Her voice was soft, sultry, and there was something to the tone that tugged at his software, a compulsion of some sort that he pushed back against instinctively.

She sounded familiar.

"I am sorry. I do not.. recognize your model," Freddy returned, uncertain if he did or didn't. More erroneous data? He ran her name through his internal database but nothing came up. The Glamrock line of animatronics didn't include a human-like female model, as far as he was aware. "Were you recently brought in to join the band?"

"In a manner of speaking," Glamrock Baby returned with a small shrug. She tilted her head back to upright and leaned forward a little. "Do you recognize the tonal code embedded in my voice? Answer me," she asked back, her voice projecting towards him through the window.

The compulsion pulled at him and Freddy resisted, narrowing his gaze at the other animatronic. "Do not do that, please." His ears wiggled again and he shook off the compulsion. The tonal code.. that was also familiar. He had his own that he could use to direct the rest of the band and keep them in sync with his singing during rehearsal and on stage. This was the first time he'd felt it used on him.

Wait. If Glamrock Baby had tonal coding, then was she..?

"Are you a Band Leader?" Freddy asked in alarm. Vanessa had threatened that he would be replaced by Monty temporarily if he was found to be rogue, but it would take time to install tonal coding into him. Had she or the other guard, Sydney, brought in a ready-made Band Leader animatronic from the parent company?

Glamrock Baby winked at him, a soft giggle escaping her. "Not quite, Darling," she replied, "I'm a Ringleader. It's interesting how you resisted my control. Is it because you're a Band Leader?" Her gaze fixed on Freddy again and he shifted uncomfortably at the hard stare directed at him. "Or is it because you're soul-bound?"

"I.. what?" Freddy mumbled in confusion. An internal ping; Gregory was calling him, but he only partially turned, still wanting to know what the other animatronic meant by that. Soul-bound?

...something in the metal, there's something in the metal...

"Don't worry about it. Sorry for bringing it up," Glamrock Baby amended hurriedly, shaking her head as she held her hands up a little higher. "If you can't remember.. leave it be. Be content with who you are now." Her eyes shifted to the boy that joined Freddy; he took too long to go to Gregory, he needed to make sure not to put off following that signal from now on.

"What are you supposed to be? Never seen you here before," Gregory remarked, pressing close to Freddy's side and squinting at Glamrock Baby before looking up at him with a worried look. Freddy shrugged at him; he didn't actually ask what she was doing here after all.

The other animatronic didn't answer, just focused her stare on the boy for an uncomfortably long moment. "I'm from the sister location," she finally said and Freddy flinched, a chill passing over him and fading, leaving him only with an unsettling dread and confusion. "The network here isn't letting me have access, but I'm sure I'll get through at some point. What's a kid like you doing here?"

"I'm just trying to get out. Freddy's helping me," Gregory shot back and tilted his head, "Hey, how come you're not acting all crazy like the others? Is it because you're not from here?"

"Maybe." Glamrock Baby shrugged again and turned her gaze back to Freddy. "You're helping him escape this place?" He nodded warily; there was a faint sense of distrust for the words 'sister location' but he couldn't pin down anything in his files that would give reason for him to be wary. More erroneous data? "You're the Band Leader, so you should have the security clearance to override the doors in an emergency situation, and a kid being locked in counts. Why didn't you do that?"

Freddy blinked and quickly scanned through his own files, searching for his security clearance level. Conditional? Default set to Level 1? Why was he set so low? He was the Band Leader so wouldn't it make sense to give him higher clearance to help protect guests in the event of an emergency, like Glamrock Baby said? "I do not have the required clearance," he finally admitted in quiet surprise and confusion. Why? He was the face of the company; he was Freddy Fazbear! Why was he so limited?!

"Kinda figured, since you have me running around getting passes and upgrading my security level," Gregory pointed out, raising the security card he had stolen hours ago. "But that's so weird! Baby, you have high clearance, right? Can you open the doors for us?"

Freddy nodded in agreement, looking to the other animatronic for answers even as his own questions spun around him, igniting feelings he was sure wasn't supposed to be possible for him. He was an animatronic, an A.I. designed to entertain as Freddy Fazbear; were these feelings of fear, worry, anxiety meant to be part of his programming? Were they part of his evolution as an artificial intelligence? Or was something more going on?

Soul-bound...

"It's strange that they don't seem to trust you, if you don't have clearance," Glamrock Baby mused quietly before sighing and shaking her head. "If they don't trust you, then maybe you're not really one of theirs? So I guess there's no harm telling you." She looked between Freddy and Gregory, her fingers doing an intricate gesture while they continued their soft glow. "I'm trying to take over your network here from the thing that's keeping you locked in," the animatronic revealed, the gleam of her eyes bright and oddly.. vicious. "Your security systems, communications, almost every major system required to run this size of a pizza place.. it's all been compromised."

A heavy weight sank in Freddy's 'gut' at hearing the words, a harsh chill passing over him as Gregory gasped and gripped at his hand. And yet, some part of him felt vindicated, like a subtle awareness of things not being right had been proven correct. Whatever guilt he felt at lying to Vanessa, lying to his bandmates, shielding Gregory's actions from them despite their dubious legality, evaporated and left him free of doubt that he was doing the right thing. Something was wrong, something was very wrong, and this was confirmed by someone coming in from outside to check the network, fighting for access.

"Security breach," he finally growled, a protective anger now welling up in place of the guilt and doubts of earlier. "That must have been what overloaded my systems when I was on stage. Without me able to connect to the network and enforce Band Leader control, my friends could be compromised as well!"

"They've been trying to get me all night!" Gregory exclaimed in frustration, stamping a foot with his words. "Them and their upgraded parts!"

"The A.I. in the Pizzaplex network has full control; I'm trying to fight my way through to take it over myself." Glamrock Baby shrugged a bit. "Something happened to cause a temporary override of one system, the Showtime routine that backdoors into lift controls and connects to some aspects of security. That's what gave me the breach I needed to link in and now here I am." She raised her hands higher to show the glow off. "I'm working on getting full control; you two can help me by staying on the move."

"How does that help?" Gregory asked and looked up to Freddy for answers. Freddy puzzled through it quickly, eyebrows lifting at his own thoughts.

"Vanessa, Sydney, my friends, the S.T.A.F.F., and the A.I. in the Pizzaplex network, all of them have been attempting to find you, Gregory," he explained calmly, though his own anger towards the situation continued to simmer, waiting for the right target to direct it towards. "As long as we keep moving, searching through the Pizzaplex as we have been all night, all of them will be focused on us and allow Glamrock Baby to continue hacking the network in secret."

Gregory's eyes widened, an almost excited shine in the honey-brown making gleam closer to gold. "We'll be a distraction! If I can cause a lot more chaos, that'll really make them focus on us!" he exclaimed and bounced on his feet, "How do we mess with the other animatronics so they have a harder time chasing me?"

Freddy squinted at him suspiciously. That mischievous tone was ringing some distant alarm bells in his head but a few glitch exploits couldn't do much harm, right? What damage could one small child cause? "Bright lights flashed in our eyes can cause us to be stunned temporarily due to a daytime reset exploit. Our internal clocks conflict with sudden light and require a few moments to restore appropriate time activated protocols," he replied carefully, "A Fazer Blaster or a Faz Cam could be used to do so, but the rules of the Pizzaplex prohibit using those items for that reason."

"Lotta rules have already been broken in this place, Darling," Glamrock Baby told him, her voice seemingly colder despite the soft and sultry tone never changing. One of her eyes flickered silver, too fast for anyone but Freddy to catch, and his 'breath' caught in his throat at the sight. ...silver eyes, silver eyes.. dangerous eyes... "Gonna have to break a lot more if you want to get out of here with the gift of life."

Gregory was already running off, searching Parts and Service for an exit with his flashlight out and sweeping over the place. Freddy stepped back from the containment chamber and gestured to the glass, hoping he didn't expose the shakiness of his hand. "Do you need assistance in breaking out?" he asked.

"I'm fine for now. This place is safe enough for me to work and if that changes I can break myself out," Glamrock Baby returned and closed her eyes to make her smile seem wider, more like a trickster than a singer. "My parts are military grade, so I'm a lot more durable than I look!"

Freddy gave her a blank stare. Why would an entertainment animatronic be built from such materials? He shook it off before nodding in her direction and turning away. He had a little boy to continue looking after, and apparently far more secrets in the Pizzaplex to uncover. Bonnie had been decommissioned trying to help a girl escape; after hearing what Vanessa threatened, Freddy was under no illusion that he could possibly meet his own end helping Gregory.

But maybe things will turn out differently this time? Glamrock Baby was sent in from outside to hack the Pizzaplex network; were there others outside waiting to help too? She had to have come from somewhere; there was no 'sister location' to the Pizzaplex. It was one of a kind.

A flicker of a feeling, a ghost of a memory...

There was no Glamrock Baby, Freddy was sure of that, deep in his coding, but there was a rival pizzeria in town. Fazbear Entertainment had been attempting to purchase it to gain control of its animatronics. And that rival had Circus Baby as.. Ringleader?

A brief hitch in one step as Freddy made his way to Gregory's side, the boy studying the doors leading to the elevators to Rockstar Row. Why was Circus Baby here to help them if she belonged to a competitor? He set the question aside for later. Right now, they had to press on, had to get one of those items for Gregory to use to defend himself which meant getting a Party Pass from Chica's room.

The night was not over yet.

[oneofthosesimps]

God knows I tried

pairing: levi x fem!reader I nsfw

word count: 7983

summary: reader comes to paradise with yelena and the others. although you are marleyan, you want to fight for the eldian. at the beginning you experience harsh rejection before levi develops feelings for you

warnings: SPOILER season 4, first time, angst, fluff, smut, harsh words

authors note: i got the idea from a request (although i interpreted it completely different and wrong, i'm sorry (still)). well, i want to elaborate and develop my writing skills a bit, which is why i'm trying out a bit at the moment. that's why i focused less on smut and more on conveying feelings. i hope you like it and once again, i'll write the story again with the theme of the actual request and more smut (it's on my list)

all credits to the artist of this pic:

Bev-Nap

-----

You feel out of place, even though you have fought so long to sit right here. Not only the icy stares of your opposite but also the tense posture of your comrades give you exactly that feeling. A silence overcomes you at the table, while you can hear the sound of metal and ammunition. You dare not lift your eyes and instead look at the cup in your hands. The tent is filled with the scent of black tea, which blends with the sound of chirping crickets to create a symphony of summer, if only it wasn't so cold. A heavy stone rests on your chest and a nervousness creeps through your body that you have rarely felt before. Your warrior heart is a wrinkled mess and you are surprised at yourself for the thoughts that are floating through your head right now. It has been a long time since you felt so small. Your gaze lifts slightly and your eyes fall on folded arms. You can see veins on his hands, winding along under his skin. They follow the contours of his muscles, which are hidden under his jacket. Wings emblazon one of his shoulders and right above his heart and you eye the beautiful symbol before your eyes travel even higher.

Frozen iron looks at you and a shiver runs down your spine. His half-closed eyes are partially covered by his black hair and yet hatred shines through them. You are paralysed for a moment before you pull away and look at the woman beside him instead. You hold your breath as she looks curiously down the barrel of the loaded pistol and your right fingers clutch the porcelain in your hand. If a shot were fired now, she would also lose her remaining sight.

A broad grin settles on her face, which is bathed in a warm orange by the lamp above you, reflecting through the lenses of her glasses, "Oh, I see. So you can shoot multiple times with it." She is wearing the same clothes as Levi and inwardly you wonder what the wing symbol is all about.

Your gaze wanders to the left and you look at the tall, blonde woman. Yelena's features are soft and you admire her for her courage and composure. If she is insecure, she has that feeling hidden deep within her and doesn't let it show through. Her eyes glance at the cup in her hand as she eyes the dark liquid, "Those are Marleyan soldiers' standard equipment." Hange's fascination does not abate and she turns the weapon from right to left.

Yelena's hand grips the handle of the cup before she takes a small sip and sets it down again, "Each Marleyan's army divisions consists of about 20,000 soldiers. There are 50 divisions in total, making around a million of them."

The brown-haired woman's face slips and you can see the surprise and shock in them. Slowly she lowers the firearm and places it on the table.

"In addition to that, they possess three fleets consisting of 21 battle ships. They've also seen incredible progress with new weapons including aerial military capabilities," Yelena continues, briefly fixing her gaze on the pistol before catching Hange's eye.

"...Aerial?" You can hear the tremor in her voice and light beads of sweat settle on her forehead. Small wrinkles form around her lips. A second later she yelps as Levi nudges her with his foot and leans towards her. His voice is low as he talks to her and you exchange brief glances with Onyankopon. His large dark eyes look at you as confused as you feel and your brow furrows. His eyes turn back to the two people opposite you and he clears his throat, "So in other words, mobile weapons that can go beyond seas and walls, and drop the enemy from the sky." His explanation seems to strike a chord with Hange and she jumps to her feet. Her chair scrapes across the floor before toppling backwards with a thud. She slams her palms down on the table and leans her upper body towards you, "They'll come from the sky?!"

Despite her joyful enthusiasm, this little phrase leaves a bitter note. Suddenly you realise again how terribly sad this situation is. Such things are normality for people on the mainland. Guns and flying ships are technologies that have been around for a long time. The whole world uses them, except for a small island in the middle of the sea. Hange has never seen such things in her life, nor have the rest of the people in this camp and within the walls. Although they are the same people, they live such different lives.

Your mouth goes dry and you take a big sip of your tea, almost burning your tongue. The feeling mixes with the pain in your chest and your heart tightens. So much has gone wrong, so much you now have to fix and undo. The weight on your shoulders seems to crush you as you continue to look to Hange, not letting on.

She leans forward even further and her face becomes thoughtful, "Marley has all that wonderful power, yet they haven't launched a proper attack on us for almost a year, why is that?"

Yelena's expression remains unchanged, "There are two main reasons." She takes her time with her words, thinking them over as she takes another sip of the dark tea. After setting the cup down she continues to speak, "The first reason is the Pure Titans that they unleashed on this island. Their existences make it hard for them to get here, even with the latest weapons. It was originally a policy meant to confine the Eldians inside the walls. However, it ended up protecting Eldian from attack."

For the first time you hear his deep voice. It sounds like dark strong honey and nestles around you. You feel as if the vibration is making the tent wall shake and goosebumps settle over you, "Seems like it. Quite ironic, I must say." He adds a snort to the end of that sentence and looks disdainful.

Yelena smiles dryly at him for a moment before lowering her gaze and breaking eye contact, "However, the day is about to break. The Titans should be active soon. Yet, we're still leisurely drinking tea here outside the wall. That means you have killed all the pure Titans on the island. Would that be correct?"

Levi's body tenses almost imperceptibly as his clothes cover much of it, but you see that his shoulders are getting even broader. The veins on his hand that you noticed earlier stand out more and you feel an electricity emanating from him. His face shows no movement and he keeps a straight face, "So what? Are you going to somehow inform Marley about it?"

This is the first time you would like to say something to convince him that you have come with good intentions and that he can trust you. But deep down you know for a reason that it will probably take the longest with him - if he will ever trust you at all.

Yelena stares at him and you can see a small smirk curl her lips, "No, It's wonderful."

Only by Levi's eyebrows can you tell he's slightly surprised as the furrow between them gets a little deeper and darker. His body tension doesn't change as he glares at you with dark eyes while Hange's right hand becomes a fist, "What's the second reason?" Her gaze wanders back and forth between the three of you.

"Marley is currently in a state of war with multiple countries," Yelena explains, "In other words, they got bigger thing to deal with. You guys have defeated Marley's trusted Warrior unit. You guys also took the Colossal Titan and the Female Titan, their key weapons. Marley is a country with many enemies. So other countries came together in a blink of an eye and then the war began."

Your gaze falls to the weapon on the wooden table and images of war run through your head. Goosebumps forms on your skin as the sound of guns being fired echoes through your head and you shake slightly. Your breathing changes through your quickening heart and you feel Levi's eyes on you for a split second.

"So that means you guys are the people of losing countries with grudges against Marley. And you infiltrated the army as some sort of intelligence agent?" The air around you thickens and grows heavier and Yelena closes her mouth. You see a small change of temper in her before you stare at Hange. Seconds pass and no one says anything before a small, happy sound comes from the brunette and she smiles broadly at you, "Oh, was that a bullseye? As I thought, you guys must have convincing enough motives and backers to betray Marley like that."

Yelena's hand tightens around her cup and Onyankopon and you do likewise. Again your heart tightens and you lower your gaze. Unnecessary guilt creeps from the depths of your soul to the brightness and spreads through your body. How many people, how many women and men and children have lost their lives? Why are you, of all people, sitting here? What can you contribute? Questions and questions swirl in your head and you literally drown in the wave that drives them.

Your thoughts almost overwhelm you Yelena's voice comes through to you, "We lost our homeland to Marley and join their army as conscripts. We're weak. We also start losing hope in opposing such a big nation. It is until we're guided by him."

Something warm mingles with the tension and darkness as her posture changes and all tension falls from her. Her chin lifts and she looks up into the brightness of the lamp above her, literally making her eyes glow. A slight smile settles on her face as her eyes glaze over, "Marley and the world feared the Titans as devils. However, it looked like something else to me. A god." At these words, she jolts and a shiver runs down your spine. Sometimes Yelena seems like a believer, as if she has seen something that is still hidden from the rest of you. In such moments you notice again how different your drives are, although you are striving for the same goal. Deep down, however, she sometimes frightens you, even if you would never admit it, but she seemed like an addict on the way to her redemption. "He gave us hope when we're at our weakest," she continues and for a moment she seems to float above the tent before coming back to the here and now and lapsing back to normality, "We shot our superior under the orders of Zeke Yeager. We're the Anti-Marleyan Volunteers. Our goal is to free the Eldian people."

"By betraying your own people?", Levi's voice echoes again through the small cloth fenced room and your eyes shoot to him. With the corners of his mouth pulled down, he meets you and you almost choke on your own saliva. Your hands form into fists and your eyebrows draw together.

"She has proven herself often enough. Her background may be different, but we fight for the same goal," Yelena's unimpressed voice pre-empts yours, but the tension between you does not subside. Instead, sparks of anger almost fly out of you. Your self-doubt has just been pulled out of you and laid bare on the table for all to see. It is raging inside you. Hange's gaze also falls on you and she examines your presence, which seems small next to Onyankopon's and especially Yelena's, from top to bottom. "Why is someone from Marley fighting for Eldia?"

Yes, why does anyone do that? Why does one fight alongside the supposed enemy to support their plans? Why do you act wholeheartedly against all that has been impressed upon you all your life?

Your nails dig into your palms and you grit your teeth, "I do not betray my people. I betray those who lead my people."

The memory mixes with the swirl of hot water in front of you. The liquid spreads in the small porcelain vessel and nestles around the leaves, which immediately begin to smell at your touch. Warm steam wets your face and makes the rest of your body shiver.

"Don't worry so much, will you?" says Niccolo from his place at the counter and raises his head. He tilts it slightly and smiles at you. His dark eyes sparkle at you across the room as his blond hair falls wildly across his forehead. It's a stark contrast to the storm going on outside. You return his gaze with a slight smile before he turns his attention back to the vegetables in front of him. The sound of steady chopping movements fills the room and you glance back at the teapot. A sigh falls from your lips and you support yourself with both hands on the countertop.

"That's easier said than done, Niccolo. You know me."

"Yes, I know you and that's why I'm sure you have nothing to worry about".

A soft huff comes out of your mouth and you roll your eyes, "Yeah, sure. That's easy for you to say, Eldian."

His head lifts again and he looks into your eyes with slightly furrowed brows, "I mean it, Marleyan". You pucker the corners of your mouth slightly at that name. Although that is exactly the right name for you, you don't identify with it. The word has a negative connotation and tends to bring bad qualities with it. And that is not you. You are not Marleyan, you are just and simply you.

His face looks more unhappy and he seems thoughtful before a smile settles over his lips again, “I trust you, we trust you and they do too. You've done so much in your time here and even before. Don't be so critical of yourself."

Your eyes fall back to the pot in front of you and you place the lid over the opening. With a push, you push yourself off the counter and cross your arms in front of your chest, "You're right.”

"Of course, I am," he smirks. His radiance continues to fill the room and his warmth reaches you, flooding you and your little heart, and your lips pull up slightly as well. Niccolo is to be envied for his positive nature. He is by far one of the nicest people you have ever had the pleasure of meeting in your life and a truly true friend. Perhaps his nature is also the reason why he is such a good cook. His nimble fingers allow his thoughts and emotions to seep into his food and every bite has a piece of his soul in it.

"I mean, you and Sasha are the best example of what can become of two opposing camps." You hear an uneven cut and see him wince slightly. His cheeks turn pink and a grin spreads across your face. He puts the knife down and places his right hand on the back of his neck, nervously stroking his hair, "Yeah, you think so?"

"Who doesn't?" the tips of his ears turn pink too. He looks cute.

"My food is just good. That's the real reason Sasha comes."

You snort. "No, Sasha comes for your food as well. But I'm sure there's another, bigger point that's much more important." Again, a smile curls his lips and he looks happy.

"I envy you for that," you murmur, your expression changing slightly. A tide of sadness settles over you, leaving your body shivering.

"Envy me? But for what?"

"I just wish I could get along with them as well. I wish I had a significant other too."

Now comes a snort from Niccolo. Surprised, you look at him and he shakes his head, "Yes, I have Sasha. But you have someone else for that". As you continue to look confused, he takes the towel from his shoulder and throws it on the countertop. "Don't act like that. I've seen the looks on his face. Don't pretend you don't know who and what I'm talking about."

You tear open your eyes and your breath catches in your throat. Immediately a heat rises to your face as you understand who he is talking about and a deep blush settles over your cheeks, far surpassing his.

"I-I don't know what you mean," you stammer to yourself as your face gets even hotter and it is now time for Niccolo to grin at you. "N-no, you've got it wrong. Levi and I ... we ... this is absolutely nothing."

"So Levi, huh?" You slap yourself for saying his first name so carelessly.

"The captain and I," you begin again, "there is nothing. I don't think there could be anything with anyone either. You know him, he's a cold lump of ice." You look down at your feet on the floor, "besides, he hates Marley and I can't even blame him."

A silence settles over you before you hear footsteps. As Niccolo puts his hand on your shoulder, you lift your gaze again and warm brown looks at you. "That may be, but I can tell you one thing: I can clearly see that he doesn't hate you".

"You think so, huh?" you bite your lower lip, unable to suppress the flutter of wings from the butterflies in your stomach. He squeezes your shoulder lightly with his hand, "I mean it, yes."

You mirror his soft smile, but it doesn't reach your heart. Maybe Niccolo is right in what he says, but it was rather unlikely and your body can't imagine Levi feeling this way. Your head tells you that's not the case. You are alone.

A knock on the door snaps you out of your thoughts and he drops his arm. The wooden door opens with a soft squeak and a dark brown pigtail pokes its head into the room. Big brown eyes look at you and you notice Niccolo's energy change.

"I hope I'm not too late," Sasha says happily and opens the door wider. Still in her uniform, which accentuates the curves of her body, she raises her hand and waves at you. You smile broadly at her and take a step back.

"Absolutely not, you're just in time. I've already got the vegetables ready," Niccolo says, grabbing the kitchen towel again. Sasha jumps in the air with happiness and runs past him to the counter with the chopping board. You see another slight blush on Niccolo's face before he turns away from you and takes his place beside her. You watch the two of them for a brief moment and your heart blossoms. Who would have ever thought that feelings could arise between two actually so hostile parties. And they both seem more than happy, even if it is hard to tell at the moment because Sasha is literally foaming at the mouth with hunger. You place the teapot on the tray next to it and leave the two of them discussing about the best temperature for the soup.

Your feet carry you through the kitchen door and you stride down a long corridor. The storm outside is slowly getting stronger, whipping against the windows. Without thinking, you walk through the building. You have been walking this way several times a day for several months now, you could serve tea in your sleep. By now you are probably even better at this than at holding a gun and fighting. When you reach the end, you stop in front of a large door.

Your knuckles touch the wood and you knock on it three times in quick succession. There is silence for a moment before Levi's dark voice comes muffled from the other side of the door, "Name and request."

You clear your throat briefly, "It's me, sir. I've brought your lunchtime tea." You hear the rustling of paper for a brief moment.

"Come in."

Your hand grips the cold metal of the door handle and you push it down.

The captain's office is probably very similar to the one in the capital, at least that's how Hange once described it to you. In his back is a large window framed by curtains, through which the sun's rays fall in the afternoon. Due to the rain today, however, it is a little darker and rather unlikely that you will be able to see the setting of the sun. The remaining walls are either empty or filled with shelves containing all kinds of books. In the back half is a massive desk, its surface almost completely filled with stacks of papers. Levi sits in his chair, as he usually does, his head bent over his papers, causing strands of his black hair to spread across his forehead.

There is a scent of detergent in the room, which mixes with his body odour. Sometimes you have the feeling that he is gradually taking on the smell of lemon and lime and regret the fall of cedar, earth and something else that you could never quite put your finger on until now. As soon as he senses your presence at the entrance, his eyes lift and your heart slips a little. You lick your lower lip to moisten it and feel your hands grow a little damp as you clutch the handles of the tray. Shadows are on his face and you can see the circles that have formed under his eyes.

For a brief moment you look at each other before you tear your gaze away and your feet move across the wooden floor.

"How are you, sir?" you ask as you set the tray down on a dresser on the left wall and take the cup and coaster in your hand.

"Tch, I already told you that you can call me Levi."

Your toes just barely touch the surface of the water and you dip them in before they come back out. It was completely silent except for the chatter of the people behind you and the sound of the ocean. Somewhere you could make out Niccolo's loud laughter and you smirk inwardly. The waves of the sea flow towards you before breaking on the piers of the pier.

The moon is still low over the horizon, but a few stars can already be seen in the cloudless sky. A gentle breeze sweeps over you and you pull your jacket tighter around you, snuggling into it. It is so incredibly peaceful and beautiful, it is hard to put into words.

"Tch, you shouldn't go so far away," says a cold, deep voice behind you, a total contrast to the rest of the scenario. Startled, you turn away from the reflection of the twinkling stars and look behind you.

His hands buried in the pockets of his suit, he looks down at you with a slightly annoyed expression and half-closed eyes. His figure is captured by the black fabric and it flatters him very much, fitting perfectly. You wonder if he had it tailored. A cold shiver runs down your spine as he eyes you.

"I-I'm so sorry, sir," you stammer, pulling your feet out of the water. Just as you are about to get up to quickly run back to the others to not annoy the captain more, he plops down beside you. Confused, you stare straight ahead and tense up as he makes himself comfortable next to you. Should you go now anyway? After a few seconds, he makes no move to tell you again, so you remain seated. The mood remains tense and does not fit in at all with the relaxing sounds around you. His hand is right next to yours and your knees are almost touching. Out of the corner of your eye you eye him and maybe it's the moonlight accentuating his contours, but he looks different. Had he always been so handsome? Such a face should be forbidden. A breeze comes up again, tousling his hair slightly, and you breathe in. Has he always smelled this good? Such a smell should be forbidden.

You look towards the moon, trying to control your rapid heartbeat. Your hands begin to sweat and the situation becomes uncomfortable. You've never spent any of your free time with him before, it doesn't feel right.

"Doesn’t it look beautiful ," you murmur to break the silence.

You hear a snort beside you and look at Levi, instantly regretting your statement. His eyes resemble the stars in the sky, even as they slowly turn dull and grey, "Yes, but at what cost?"

You frown slightly, confused by his statement and he looks past you, "How long we fought to be able to sit here."

A light goes on in your head and you bite the inside of your cheek. You didn't mean it like that, that's not what you wanted. Shame and anger come over you. Sasha told you a bit about her background when she was with you and Niccolo in the kitchen. You could never understand how much they have been through. The pain they are in is immeasurable.

"How many people I have lost to sit here," he murmurs, probably more to himself than to you, "Isabel, Petra, Erwin...", at the last name his voice breaks off and he hangs his head. The next breath of wind that surrounds you makes you freeze. This situation is cruel and deep inside you ask yourself how it came to this and why he is saying these things to you of all people. None of these names mean anything to you, but you feel his pain. You have never seen him like this, so fragile and weak. Tears come to your eyes and you are speechless. Your heart tightens and you feel the need to take him in your arms, to help him somehow. A huge burden lies on you. Your people have done this and now you have to make up for these mistakes. At that moment you realise that this will never be possible. You can never make up for something like this. It remains silent between you, the sea no longer has anything happy about it. Instead, it seems to you that every sound, every wave, reflects the cries of fallen friends, comrades and families.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, looking down at your hands, which you place in your lap. A tear drips onto them and you brush it away.

"Don't be. It's not your fault."

Your head lifts and you look at him. His gaze is averted and his knuckles turn white as he grips the edge of the pier.

"Yes, it is. Somehow it is," you murmur, seeking his gaze. As he returns it, the grey in them moves and slowly changes again. "I should have done something sooner, I'm so sorry. I can never make it right, but I'm trying to do everything in my power to make sure it never happens again. So that no one ever has to suffer at the hands of my people again, sir." Please believe me.

There it is again, the silver sparkle slowly coming back. Your heart beats heavy inside you, burning. Levi eyes you for a long time, letting his eyes glide over your features, and you do the same. You block out your surroundings, taking in only the sound of his steady breathing and the feel of his closeness.

"Call me Levi."

A barely perceptible blush settles over your cheeks once more as you set the dishes down on the only small space on the desk and remember this scene. Forms, reports and the like form a neat chaos that follows a strict principle. Never have your eyes seen even a piece of paper on this floor. He is the cleanest person you have ever met.

"Sorry, I just got so used to call you sir or captain." You lift your gaze briefly, looking into cool grey. Your assumption earlier was correct, his dark circles are darker than ever. He looks terribly tired and exhausted, but that doesn't stop him from continuing to maintain his strong posture.

You smile at him briefly before going back to the dresser. You feel his eyes on you the whole time, which sends a warm shiver down your spine.

"When was the last time you had a break?" your hands grip the porcelain of the pot. There is a silence between you as you pour him his tea. His lack of response speaks volumes and you feel sorry for him. It must not be easy being in charge next to Hange. Does he ever wish for a break inside? Does he even know such a thing? The quiet flow of liquid breaks the silence as he continues to look at you. Your nervousness increases and your butterflies fly stronger, tickling your stomach.

As always, he takes a sip of tea as soon as you finish and as always, you look at his fingers as they wrap around the top of the cup. Many times you have wondered where he had learned to drink like that, but over time your thoughts change. Instead you admire his hands, his long slender limbs that conjure up dreams in your mind. Your left hand forms into a fist as your face turns red.

"Good", he says as he raises an eyebrow and eyes you questioningly.

You just nod at him and walk quickly back to the dresser, hiding your face from him. As you put the pot back in its place, your hands tremble and you take a deep breath to slow your breathing. It is unimaginable what he is doing to you. Is this how Niccolo always feels when he sees Sasha?

Finally, you turn and look down at the floor, "Is there anything else I can do for you?" Your hands play nervously with each other as you hold them in front of your body.

Silence falls again and seconds pass, it takes longer than usual to answer this question and you are beginning to wonder if he didn’t hear you.

"No, you can go," he finally says. You nod and head for the door. You don't dare look at him again, to prevent him from reading you like a book. Because he is extremely good in this area. Sometimes he knows more about his counterpart than he does himself. Just as you are about to reach for the door handle again and push it down, you hear his voice again, "Are you happy here?"

You open your eyes slightly and turn to him. Your eyes cross again and your forehead wrinkles. His eyes look different than usual, the grey seems much warmer and ... darker? You have never seen his eyes this colour before. You swallow hard and give up trying to control your heart. His question is unexpected and you can't find an immediate answer. In fact, you've asked it yourself many times before. There is no comparison to Marley, positive or negative, it is a very different life. Either way, it feels like you're a prisoner. Like you don't belong in either world. You remember Marley, your family, who you will probably never see again because they never want to see you again. At the latest after they found out you were leaving them, you were on your own. But you are sure that they already had an idea of what it was like and that their hatred began much earlier. How different your thoughts were and are compared to those of the rest of the people there. And here in the realm of the devils, it hardly seems any different. Of course, you are now a little closer to your goal, but even here you are not welcome. You fight for people who do not want you.

"I'm not unhappy," you murmur and slump your shoulders, "I just feel lonely."

You see his head working and an emotion wash over his face. Again, there is a long silence before he opens his mouth, "Why lonely?"

"Well," you stammer a little, surprised at the direction your encounter today is taking. It's funny how much has changed since that time in the tent.

"It seems to me that everyone has their purpose, that everyone knows their place. Yelena, for example, led us here, has been our leader from the beginning. She takes care of all these important things and what do I do? I get to help Niccolo prepare the food and I get to bring you tea." Your hands form into fists and anger rises from your belly. "I'm not allowed to go anywhere near the city or you'd have to worry that I won't come back because they've put an end to my life. What have I been fighting for all this time?" Without you realising it yourself, your voice rises and you become louder. "I try to do something good, to achieve something, but nothing happens. I can't do anything. What am I doing here? What did I do in Marley? Why does everyone hate me?", the last words are more of a whisper and you feel tears welling up in your eyes. Your emotions overtake you. The anger slowly fades, leaving a bitter, nauseating taste. You are so pathetic. Your life is useless, you are useless. You stand in the office of the man who is your superior, who is supposed to look after you so that you don't betray anyone, who hates your people from the bottom of his heart and who brings out feelings in you that shouldn't be there. Your body begins to shake slightly and you wipe away individual tears. What has happened to you since that moment in the tent? You feel as if you are losing sight of your purpose, the one thing that drove you to keep living.

"I don't hate you."

You look at him in surprise. His body looks tense and you regret having such an outburst. Levi is not really one of the people you should and would pour your heart out to like that. Suddenly you feel terribly small and stupid. While you have confided in each other more and more little things over time, such outbursts of emotion is still unusual. Especially since Levi very rarely lets you see through his shell. He probably just wanted to be nice and didn't expect you to pour your heart out to him right away.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have burdened you with this." You straighten your figure and smile at him. "If anything should be the matter, don't hesitate to let me know". With these words, you turn and open the door. You want nothing more than to leave this room and escape from this uncomfortable situation.

Before you can take a single step, it slams shut again. Immediately you tense up and freeze. Your eyes widen in shock and surprise. His hand is right next to your head and his body is leaning against the wood. His presence is strong and warm and you feel the need to fall backwards against him. Your belly does somersaults and the butterflies come to life. Slowly, as if in slow motion, you turn towards him and immediately press yourself against the door behind you. He is close, much too close, much closer than you suspected. His eyes sparkle at you, the grey has turned to silver which darkens as you return his gaze. You feel trapped like an animal about to be eaten by its hunter.

" You are talking bullshit, idiot," his warm breath swirls over your skin, his dark voice even deeper than usual. You expel a long-held breath and your nails dig into your skin as you form your hands into fists again. The tension between you is huge and the air is about to crackle. Your heart beats with strong, firm thumps against your ribcage. If it keeps up like this, it's going to jump out.

"Yeah, you think so?" you murmur, licking your dry lower lip. You press harder against the door as his gaze lands on your lips. Your chest almost aches from the hammering of your heart. You feel as if you are about to throw up. Your nerve endings tingle with anticipation. Very slowly his head moves towards you. If this is a dream, you don't want to wake up, ever. The movements are barely noticeable and you hold your breath again.

"Yes, I think so," he murmurs, stopping in front of your face. His silver eyes meet yours and a deep, strong feeling runs through you. He sees something in your eyes just before his lips touch yours. You don't dare move. The touch is light as a feather and your eyes close to take it in fully. His lips are much softer than you expected. They move like wings against yours and your eyes roll into your skull. Despite the light touch, whole emotions wash over you that you can barely tell apart. Lust, loss, happiness, sadness, desire, restraint. They swirl through your head and make you dizzy. He leans closer against you and you can't suppress the soft moan that escapes you. His body tenses, but he doesn't flinch. Instead, the kiss becomes more decisive, stronger. His tongue licks over your lower lip and you collapse inside. Another moan comes from you, this time a lot louder and you open your lips, greedy to get more, to taste more. The kiss breaks away, leaving you both breathless. Your head spins and all your weight falls against the door, your legs wobbly. You can't deny that you've thought about scenarios like this many times.

And your eyes meet again and your heart aches for a brief moment as you can see something in them. "This shouldn't have happened," you sum up your train of thought and speak it. The sentence hangs between you. You see the approval in his eyes, but his body makes no move in it. His chest rises almost as fast as yours and his expression is inscrutable. It almost seems as if he is fighting an internal battle, "You're right, the risk is too great."

Your head is screaming at you to leave, to say goodbye here and now and step through that door. You need to get some distance. This must never, ever happen again. Please, please go. Your head repeats these words over and over. But your gut...

"Would you take the risk again?"

Not even a second passes after you have uttered the sentence. Not even a second passes before his lips land on yours again. This time it is completely different. The kiss is more brutal. Immediately his tongue snakes between your lips, finding its way into your mouth. You play with each other as you cling to his shoulders to keep from falling over. His arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you against him. Your whole body is on fire as he explores your mouth with pleasure. He elicits one moan after another and enjoys the little noises you make. Your brain can barely process what is going on. What is happening here? An Eldian and a Marleyan? How can that be? Of course, it's similar with Niccolo and Sasha, but Levi is a completely different act. He was the person who even made a name for himself in Marley, a country he has never been to. He is one of the highest animals here.

He's just unbelievably perfect.

He releases the kiss and you gasp. Immediately his lips settle on your jaw before he moves further down and sucks on your neck. His tongue runs over your pulse and it takes your breath away. Is this really going to lead to that one thing? Should you really be doing this? The questions in your head give you a headache that eases as soon as he sucks on the thin skin of your neck. Slowly your head gives up, the screaming quiets and instead your gut and heart come to the fore, wanting in unison just the opposite. You want to feel him, more than this.

Awkwardly, your hands wander to his belt and you try to undo the buckle with trembling hands. All this is not so easy when you have no idea about it. To your surprise, he doesn't stop you. You can still feel the battle he is fighting inside, but it seems that his heart is also stronger. His big hands dig into your hips and he lurks above you. His mouth finds yours again and he kisses the swollen lips, sucking on them and in the same move your soul out of you. What takes you what feels like an eternity is only a few moves for him. He opens your trousers with an ease that makes your knees go weak. His hands move from your hips to the waistband and he pushes it off your pelvis. Without releasing the kiss, you slide them off your legs and feet. Goosebumps form on your legs as your overheated skin touches the cool air in the room.

His hands run over your pelvic bone, down to your thighs and caress your soft skin. A soft moan comes from him at the touch, making the butterflies in your stomach dance again. He reaches around your legs and lifts you up, his hands moving to your buttocks in the same motion and clasping it. You whimper as soon as you feel them. Never before had a man touched you like this. When should that have happened too? You have spent most of your life in the midst of war, never having had time for such things. He kneads the fat of your ass and a deep, dark moan comes from deep in his throat. The sound makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you cling to him. He holds you tightly to his body and you feel as if you are both drowning men, clinging to the last bit of your lives.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," he moans against your neck as he strokes your soft skin and pulls your ass cheeks apart.

"I know," you gasp, your eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment.

"And I'm sorry it's happening here now."

"It's okay." His hands dig deeper into the flesh and your lower body is on fire. You've never felt such lust and greed in your life.

"No, it isn't. You deserve better". With these words you feel his fingers between your legs, the fingers you had thought about so many times before, and you go insane. It is indescribable when he pulls the thin fabric aside. It is indescribable when the cool air hits your core and then his fingers brush against it. Your nails dig into the fabric of his shirt, you moan loudly against his neck and bury your face, grateful that he can't see it right now.

His fingers caress your cunt and you whimper. Your pelvis automatically presses against his hand before it disappears. And again, it is indescribable as you feel his tip between your lower lips. He smears your juice, rubbing it along his hard cock before you feel it against your hole. "I just can't hold back anymore, I'm so sorry".

You draw in air through your nose, tensing slightly. A mixture of fear and anticipation, panic and anticipation, flows through your body. Your cunt tingles and there is only one thing that can soothe that tingle.

His tip penetrates you. Your world turns upside down and you groan. Your eyes close and you focus on the sensation. In all your imaginings, secretly night after night as his eyes roamed your mind, it was never like this. The pain you wait for doesn't come. Instead, a warm, indescribable feeling flows through you. Every inch of him stretches you further, fills you. It fits so damn perfectly, like it was never meant to be any other way. When he's completely inside you, he exhales shakily and you only notice now how tense he is. A moan comes from his lips as your insides clench and you lean back, your back pressed against the door again. Your eyes meet and your mouth opens slightly. There is a slight blush on his cheeks too, barely noticeable. His eyebrows are slightly drawn together, creating creases between them, and his eyes are almost black. You lift your right hand and place it against his cheek, caressing his cheekbone. He looks so erotic. As if he can read your mind, he leans down to you and again your lips touch, but this time more gently, as if this moment is fragile.

His pelvis pulls back and he thrusts for the first time. You moan out, enjoying the feeling of being completely filled. Your kiss breaks away and he rests his forehead against yours. With your eyes closed, he thrusts against you again and again, stretching your walls, fucking you against the door. Your moans grow louder and you are unbelievably happy that the rain outside has become heavier. The whipping of the wind and the patter of the drops against the windows mixes with your sounds, almost drowning them out, making it less likely that you can be heard.

Your hands wrap around the back of his neck and you bury them in the stubble of his hair.

He searches your eyes again. Intense stares burn into your brain and the speed and hardness of his thrusts become harder. Something deep inside you stirs and you can't stop the tears that run down your cheek. They travel down your cheek and drip onto your legs, which are still tight around Levi's waist. This day is like a wild rollercoaster ride, one emotion after another overtakes you and you can hardly recover from the ups and downs. And now being fucked by Levi, for the first time in your life, leaves you speechless.

There is a tingling underneath your stomach, this time different from what the butterflies cause. You can't quite place the feeling, but you want more. Levi seems to be feeling the same way, his speed picking up even faster and his hands digging almost painfully into your ass. You stare at each other as you both moan again and again, the knot tightening and tightening. More, please more.

"I don't hate you," he whispers, repeating his words from earlier, hitting a specific spot inside you. You moan loudly and he does the same. Tears roll down your cheeks again and you are so close. His eyes watch your face and your trembling lips tell him everything. He keeps the angle, keeps bumping into that one spot that makes you fly. All the while he keeps repeating that one sentence, burning it into your minds so that you, above all, can never forget it.

"I don't hate you either," you gasp before your insides explode. It's like a firework that takes you with it. This is how you imagine flying. Nothing in your life has ever felt so good. You scream Levi's name, preaching it and clinging to it, clawing into it. Your soft walls twitch like crazy, driving Levi to explode too. He leans all his weight against you and the door, moaning as he continues to fuck you, albeit slower and slower.

As soon as you come down from your high, he slides to the floor with you in his arms. His right hand goes to the back of your head and he strokes your hair as your head rests against his neck again.

"I promise you that you will never feel lonely again."

[p1nkwitch]

@lonelyeyesweek

Day 1 - First Meeting

Peter was very reluctant to go to the Magnus institute funding party; uncle Nathaniel informed him that one of his new duties would be to make business with James Wright and he really didn't want to do that. A beholder… What a nightmare.

I would've stayed at home

'Cause I was doin' better alone

Peter was very reluctant to go to the Magnus institute funding party; uncle Nathaniel informed him that one of his new duties would be to make business with James Wright and he really didn't want to do that. A beholder… What a nightmare.

The party was unfortunately the most informal way to meet the man, otherwise he would be forced to enter a small room with the watcher to make sure he didn't dry up his family money for an indefinite amount of time.

So he was really dreading the moment he would be meeting this man, Simon kept telling him that James was an old friend and that it would be fine, that he was actually funny beneath all the politeness, however he wasn't so sure about that.

Due to Simon’s and his uncle’s influence he has a very loose idea of some boring old man, a type of academic with a nondescript look that he will forget as soon as he leaves.

With any luck he would just make his acquaintance today and then he may go from the party, Peter preferred to be at home instead of dilly dallying with the masses. As much as he likes to observe people, he likes it better when it's on his own terms and when he is not forced to be part of an event.

So he goes with very little hope for the night, the only positive is that he may get some free food and some alcohol, albeit champagne will not do much for him.

The moment Simon sees him, he zeroes on him and stays nearby talking about his trips to Europe. He also tells him about a few sacrifices he made that actually seemed rather interesting. Still Peter preferred the ones he committed at the ocean, but he knew the man was always more partial to the sky so its not surprising they are all on that vein.

“What about you Captain? You have a few voyages under your belt now lad, how did those go? Were they to your liking?” And the answer to that is a bit complicated, Peter is still getting used to handling a ship, his crew hasn't been properly trained yet to keep themselves in check so he has to… ugh make a few rules.

The other problem is that most of his crew is formed of older, more experienced sailors. Peter is 26 and unfortunately has a rather… soft looking face, he has been trying to grow a beard to at least make himself look a bit more rugged or older looking, but that will take time and he just has a five o’clock shadow for now. It will take him months to have anything resembling what he wants. The graying hair does work a bit better, that he can count for at least.

He is considering hiring someone to relay his messages to, so that way he can stay away most of the time and he can practice his solitude in peace. He really would love to not be perceived until he looks like he wants.

“Its ok, I still need to figure out a few things to be honest, I would love it if the crew was a bit less…”

“Talkative?”

“Friendly” Simon nods at him and pats his shoulder before going back to another story of a trip he made like 250 years ago. It is quite interesting, albeit Peter gets struck with how old the man is. Most of the time he can forget it, easy to do when Simon is so lively, but when he tells him these stories…. hard to ignore in all honesty.

Picking up an offered champagne glass he listens distractedly wondering when he will meet the man organizing this whole charade.

The older man talks to him but at some point his sentence drifts off and he looks behind him with a grin. A bit lost and now concerned, those grins never end up well for him, Peter turns back to check what exactly was his companion watching.

The answer comes to him like a hit to the face.

An older man talking and entertaining several people at the same time, Peter doesn't realize that he was gripping his glass very tightly until Simon waves and calls for the man over.

He wasn't boring looking like his uncle or very, very old like Simon. He must be in his fifties, he was dressed up impeccably with a black shirt that had his sleeves rolled out to his elbows, a deep green vest with golden details and dark green pants.

The man also has a pencil moustache and a few moles near his jaw, which made him stand out. He was also a bit shorter than him, but most people are so that doesn't surprise him.

The air of surety, of knowing he had made him feel bigger than he was however.

Peter swallows and feels his face warm up for reasons he can't comprehend.

When the man turns around towards Simon, he can see his eyes-

Grey.

Peter never looks anyone to their eyes and yet, and yet-

For a second it feels as if the man also froze looking at him, he had a look of….surprise almost?

But it was only for a second, the next thing Peter knows is that the man starts to approach them while he is struggling to not disappear in a puff of smoke. Oh, Forsaken protect him.

“Hello Simon” His voice is very low and amused, oh fuck.

“Hello James!! It's been a while hasn't it?” Ja-

James?

“You are James Wright?” Peter cuts off the man before he answers back to Simon and he realizes that he is an idiot, shit-

No wonder he was so eye-catching then.

…

For some reason James' lips twitch upwards as if he was trying not to smile at something. Peter has no way to know what is so funny.

“You must be Peter Lukas then? Nathaniel… told me about you, its a pleasure to meet you” Peter smiles his usual vapid smile to keep him from prying, he already feels exposed and kind of confused about the man. Better to make this quick and go.

“Yes, uncle mentioned you too, albeit he did not do you justice” ???? What the fuck is he doing, what is wrong with him??? Why did he say that??

Peter feels his hands sweat and his face warm up, he is praying he is not red in the face.

James looks perplexed and he feels Simon staring at him with the biggest grin ever as if he was having the time of his life which knowing him, he probably did, he loves drama after all.

“Is that so?” The man crosses his arms and Peter has to keep himself from staring at the flex of it he has to.

What the hell is wrong with him?

“Yes! He made you sound like a boring old man to be honest, but you are quite the opposite, you look very-” Peter spends a lot of time alone, meaning he doesn't properly talk with people. His usual mechanism of defense is to talk so much that everyone just lets him be.

That translates into him not having a filter, because of that he just says what is on his mind, even if he knows he shouldn't. In this case it is a shot in the foot and he has no idea why, why is he reacting like this? The man is-

Is just a bit good looking thats all!! No need to be so nervous.

“...Good” His face is burning, Peter knows he must be red all over.

He is an embarrassment to the family name, he has to go, he has to go now. How is he going to face him to do business oh shit-

James for his part seems to look at him with something akin to wonder an a bit of curiosity, while Simon-

Simon for his part is sighing mentally about his nephew’s taste in man. Very on brand for a Lukas, albeit Jonah seems to be quite taken aback.

Peter might look like Mordechai but they are not alike at all.

“Well thank you Mister Lukas”

“Peter is alright” Why won't he shut uppppp, what is wrong with him? This has never happened before, a little bit more and he will spontaneously combust.

James smiles at him and something in his chest squeezes. Is he dying? Is his heart giving out on him so soon?

“Well Peter, it was lovely meeting you. I can't wait to make business with you. I'm sure we will get along… very well”

“I can't wait” !!!!!! He wants to die.

Peter is going out to sea for the next 4 months just to get rid of whatever this is.

James grins at him and is about to leave, making him let out a breath of relief when he turns slightly.

“Say… I was going to ask Simon to drink with me after the party, in my office. Would you like to join us?” No!

“Sure” The man gives him a smug look and goes.

Simon pats his back.

“You need to get better at flirting, albeit i do believe you impressed him quite a bit, he usually ignores all the Lukas that come to make business with him”

“Im going to kill myself” He hates his life so much.

“Ah lad don't be like that, its just a few drinks, it doesn't have to go anywhere else”

Several years and flings with the man later. Peter is left with only grief at James sudden passing. They had something of a thing going on, not really labeled, since neither liked that. But the man suddenly broke things up and Peter in his anger left for months on end.

By the time he came back he found out James died and he had a new replacement.

Elias Bouchard.

He hates him on principle.

Peter is cold with him at every little meeting, speaks just as necessary and goes before the man even attempts to chat him up. At least he has his own loneliness, the only thing that truly lasts for him.

It sings out to him, like a siren song, it's easier to get lost on it, to just… become colder and harsher. What else should he do? It's not like Peter could ever love someone like that again.

Or want to.

“-ter, Peter!!”

“What do you want Mr Bouchard?” The younger man was glaring at him and it feels unfair, he should be the one glaring.

“I was asking you if you intend to stop being difficult and listen to me for once! I swear i get you lonely ones love playing at the grief stricken partner, but its been months already im getting tired of trying to talk to you like pulling teeth. Listen- i know i was kind of an ass, but really i needed to do the switch and i was worried a bit about people talking about some favouritism-” What the hell is he on about now??? Also how dare he!

“What- are you talking about? I'm not faking- what are you-!? Listen, I'm not up for games, let alone your games. I have better things to do than be your little entertainment, give me the papers to sign and I will be on my way, off of your life-” Elias gets up and slams his hands on the desk making him flinch.

“That attitude!! I don't want you out of my way!!! I said what I said as James because I was going to change bodies and people were talking about our relationship too much, it would look odd when I became Elias and we hooked up again!!”

Peter freezes.

“What- what do you mean became Elias?” The man who is not Elias??? Narrows his eyes and then suddenly looks surprised and confused.

“You don't know-”

“What do you-”

“How can you not know I told you- i-” Elias? Drifts off and looks to the empty room with a blank expression.

“I forgot to tell you”

“Um-”

“I thought i told you after- oh, oh fuck we ended up sleeping together after sacrificing that woman at the restaurant, i got distracted and-”

Peter starts to piece together a few things.

“James…?” Elias flops on his chair covering his face and doing a muffled scream into his hands.

“I can believe i forgot i got so excited that you let me tie you up that i completely forgot” Peter’s face burns.

“I-”

“Yes, yes it's me, I thought you were being difficult not that you- oh my god you actually were grieving me weren't you? You sap” His face turns smug, and it's so familiar-

The eyes-!

“Yes, those are really mine”

“You-!” Peter wants to punch him.

“Me?” Elias already closes his eyes expecting a punch. Yet he side steps the desk, comes closer and pulls him up to his feet by his tie.

“If you- you want to choke me-” He shuts him with a kiss. It takes a bit to register on the other’s mind because once he does he grips his hair and pulls them closer practically melting against him. Peter doesn't stop kissing him, cnat.

“You twat-” In between kisses he curses him out, he was making the rounds across his neck, decided that he was going to leave pretty little marks for everyone to see. Elias? James? Doesn't seem to mind much.

“Sorry-”

“You- fucking- bloody- ass!!” A bite close to the jugular has him moan a bit, Peter’s hands go to grip his thighs and the other catches his meaning because he lets him lift him up. He carries him to the small couch and drops him there with an ompf-

“Hey-” That he interrupts when he climbs on top of him and starts to kiss him again with a very clear intention in mind.

“Oh…” Yes, Peter is glad he can use forsaken to soundproof the room, he had no intentions to let the other be quiet.

Now that he is not upset, angry or… turned on, Peter lays his head on top of Elias' chest, while he explains the whole being Jonah Magnus, and thinks that he is very handsome.

Not in the same way as James was, no, but he was still very handsome.

“I was leaning more into pretty but unassuming, but thank you for the vote of confidence for the new body” What a smug prick.

“He is not…?”

“God no, only fragments or echos, the real Elias is very dead, its just me”

“Jonah?” Elias nods at his question.

“Basically”

“Huh” The shorter man’s hands play with his hair making him nuzzle his neck. He thinks about it for a bit, but decides to go for it, after all he has gotten this far anyways “Pleasure to meet you Jonah”

The other stays quiet for a bit.

“Pleasure to meet you Peter”

Their relationship is not conventional or normal by anyone's standards, but…

It works.

Somewhat.

“So… I got you so distracted you forgot to tell me huh?” Elias sighs.

“I can show you exactly how enticing you looked to me to make me forget, do not tempt me” Feeling his face heat up he tries to play it off.

“Maybe when we are in an actual bed and want to experiment a bit” Elias chuckles and then turns into a full blown laugh that makes him feel the rumble of it against his ear.

“I can't believe this, but i missed you” He hears Elias heart speed up while admitting that to him, it makes his face warm up.

Peter knows he missed him too, but he wont admit that, too out of character. So instead...

“Will take that with me, feels delicious”

“Oh hush, you already cannibalized yourself, don't be a prick”

Yes, he definetly missed this bastard and he will have so much fun re-aquitaining to him properly. They are closer in age now, Peter’s body is a bit older than Elias now, just 6 years, but it feels good.

This time people will give Elias looks instead of him, Peter’s gray hair and beard made him look older.

“You are impossible Peter”

“Stop reading my mind then” Elias sighs and kisses the top of his head hesitantly.

“Don't make it so easy then” Peter lets out a breath.

Prick.

"Never"

"Rude, what a rude person you are" Peter nuzzles him and that shuts him up.

Better.

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 36

💖 first time reader click here 💖

Venom + reader = symbiote. More canon typical violence and mentioned cannibalism (Venom eats bad guys). Some angst at the end - reader really went behind the Avengers' backs, huh? But it's gonna be okay.

Is this how babies feel in the uterus? The darkness was nearly impenetrable but at the same time comforting and warm. It wasn't dry and it wasn't wet; it just was. I was floating in weightless space, subtly feeling the echos of a battle, hearing the sounds of struggle as if I was underwater.

"MORSEL, I WILL CONSUME THESE HUMANS. IT MIGHT FEEL SLIGHTLY UNPLEASANT." Venom's voice seemed to reverb in my skull, bringing my awareness to us. We. We are Venom.

"Don't eat Cabre, he's been possessed. Put him out if you can, but don't hurt yourself. I have very little information about this demon thing," I said - well, I thought, hoping Venom would hear me. A possessed enhanced mutant person was bad but a possessed carnivorous symbiote was nightmare fuel. I also didn't want Venom to hurt themselves; the sonic gun looked painful enough already.

I felt rather than heard the agreement coming from Venom; for a brief moment, the three of us were Venom as the symbiote entered Cabre's body to alter his chemicals. The sensation was foreign, unpleasant, and I shuddered at the violation. The sense of comfort that came once Venom returned fully to me was inexplicable. I began to understand why Eddie didn't want to part with Venom; the symbiote's continued presence felt quite comforting.

Very similar to how I felt when I sat with Tony, him inside of me, for hours, with our bodies joined and minds working in quiet agreement.

"HUMAN MATING RITUALS ARE BIZARRE," Venom sounded baffled and slightly disgusted. "AND THEY ARE NOTHING LIKE A PERFECT SYMBIOSIS. PLEASE DO NOT COMPARE YOUR PRIMITIVE URGES TO OUR SYMBIOSIS."

I gasped inwardly, doing my best to distract myself from the crunching and wet noises that managed to break Venom's barrier. "Would you rather I barf inside of you?" I snarked, giving into the urge to roll my eyes. Not the time to be picky-choosy, Chtulhu.

"YOU DO NOT WANT TO WASTE PRECIOUS ENERGY RIGHT NOW. WE STILL HAVE A LOT TO CONSUME AND I WILL NEED TO REPAIR EDDIE." The symbiote announced patiently, a sense of deep longing beginning to seep into our bond at the mention of my uncle's name.

The points Venom raised were valid and I was as eager to be Just Me as Venom craved to reunite with Eddie; I receded, racking my brain for something to focus on to be able to ignore the cannibalistic experience and not "waste precious energy". "I have a subdermal tracker installed, tap it three times to activate it if you need backup," Belatedly, I remembered about my cyborg experiment.

Venom appeared to contemplate it. "NOT NOW. THIS BATTLE IS NOT VERY HARD." They finally concluded as a particularly piercing scream echoed in my ears. "YOUR MATES WILL BE ANGRY IF THEY FIND OUT. WE CAN MAKE SURE THEY DO NOT FIND OUT."

As surprised as I was at the extended courtesy, I had to face myself and my lies sooner or later anyways. "We'll tell them anyways. I'll take the blame, you play dumb together with Eddie. Consider it a trade," If I could, I would be rubbing my face right now. "I took you out to an all-you-can-eat human buffet, you took me out to take care of a problem. We're even."

Venom snorted as I felt the random crunching and squelching noises slowly begin to quiet down. "FUNNY MORSEL," I assumed it was a compliment as the feelings that leaked through the bond were actually quite fond. "THE OTHER MORSELS SHOULD BE GRATEFUL. WE WILL BRING POSSESSED HUMAN TO THEIR DOORSTEP. WE DID THE JOB FOR THEM." However, it was obvious the kind feelings didn't quite extend to SHIELD or the Avengers. I struggled to comprehend how Venom planned to take all three of us to the tower anyway, with both Cabre and Eddie being out of commission and me currently being, well, Venom.

I needn't have worried, however. There was a slight pressure on one of my shoulders followed by a brief, ten-minute strange sensation of flying, the added weightlessness making me drowsy in the darkness of Venom's fluid body. As soon as it stopped I heard voices that seemed faintly familiar - names that I recognized, but not quite sure from where.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" The yelling reached my ears through the layers of symbiote, making me cringe. Tony's piercing shriek of shock hurt.

"Could you please not be so loud, it fuckin' hurts," I moaned without a thought, hastily shutting up when the voice that spoke my words roared.

"Pri... Princess?" I heard glass shatter; focusing my eyes was hard and the field of view was funky to say the least; I towered over Tony's shaking form by at least good few feet. Subconsciously, I felt the need to taste the air - my engineer boyfriend recoiled at the same time I realized I had stuck out my-Venom's-our tongue, feeling the familiar salt and musk as if I just straight up licked Tony from head to toe.

"Believe me, this is just as weird for me," I spoke, trying to control my and Venom's combined limbs. Deeply inside my brain, I swear I felt the symbiote's snickering. "Venom, can you unattach yourself from me? Please?" I begged, absolutely hating Tony's expression of fear and confusion.

"WE HAVE TO DIGEST FIRST," The symbiote replied unapologetically but took control over the limbs, carelessly dropping Cabre at Tony's feet. "YOUR MERCENARY. SAME-DAY DELIVERY, NO RETURNS," We grinned together. I had felt Venom rummaging my brain for an appropriate joke and supplied it myself. The adrenaline rush arrived late, something I suspect was Venom's handiwork, and I basked in the sudden influx of joy and exhilaration.

Tony slowly slid down the wall, landing ungracefully on his ass, staring straight up with unblinking eyes. "Friday, please assemble the Avengers. And make Bruce bring me booze, please," I've never heard Tony this dejected.

I, on the other hand, was feeling really strange. Joyful one moment and confused the next, I let Venom handle most of the business as my mind faded in and out of focus, limbs growing heavy with each breath that I took. Or I didn't? Panic set in when I realized I couldn't breathe, couldn't inhale.

"CALM DOWN, MORSEL. I AM SUPPLYING YOU WITH THE OXYGEN," Venom's voice interrupted my panic attack as I once again was deposited in the calm, comfortable darkness. "SHE IS FINE. SYMBIOSIS CAN BE STRESSFUL FOR FIRST TIME HOSTS. I WILL GLADLY RETURN TO EDDIE AS SOON AS THE CHEMICALS IN OUR SYSTEM ALLOW ME TO SAFELY WITHDRAW." I heard more voices and I assume Venom calming down the newly arrived Avengers. My mind was still murky, like when Venom dulled it on purpose when they were eating people. Eating people. "I SUGGEST YOU PREPARE A WASTE BIN. MORSEL WILL MOST LIKELY FEEL SICK."

Oh boy, did I feel sick! As soon as Venom retracted back into my skin, I hurled, Steve catching the most of it by pushing a large bucket right in my face whilst Bruce gently rubbed my back. I avoided looking at the contents even though I consciously knew that there wasn't much more than water and bile, having previously felt first-hand exactly how Venom digested their food.

"I'm a dumbass, please put me out of my misery," The words were spoken seriously. Physically, I felt the best I've ever had: aches and pains I had gotten used disappeared and my body felt invigorated. Mentally, however, I felt drained, confused and so, so alone in my skin. As if my brain itched. Someone was talking and I heard none of it.

"Shh, come here, come here," Eddie's voice was drowsy as his arms wrapped around me, scratching that lonely itch in my brain. I grasped at him, hiding my face in his chest, missing most of what was being said. "Yeah, it's not exactly painful, more like... You feel not whole for a few hours after you separate. Not the best feeling, especially if the separation was forced," His voice bore the same pain I seemed to be experiencing at the moment. So alone in my skin.

Another large palm landed on my back as I sighed in contentment. "I'll take her. Do you guys need something?" Bruce's voice reached my ears, my brain finally agreeing to recognise human speech.

"A shower and some chocolate would be great, thank you," Eddie's voice receded further and further away as I freely, finally fell into Bruce's embrace.

"I warned you, Tony," Natasha spoke softly, coming over to brush my hair out of my face. I opened my eyes to see most of the team wearing identical looks of astonishment and worry, their eyes focused on me. Natasha was the only one who had respect clearly written on her face. "C'mon, let's go sit down so you can tell us what happened."

I avoided their eyes, fitfully clutching Bruce's arm as all of us sat down on the couch in a pile of superheroes. I guess I could be counted as one too, after the stunt I'd pulled. The mercenary was nowhere to be seen; Bucky's shirt bore bloodstains so I assumed he took the man to the underground levels where he and Natasha kept a few cells for off-the-record interrogations.

"So?" Tony's voice was hard; he avoided my face, too.

"Planned a plan. Executed the plan. It mostly worked, except the merc was possessed, too. He took out Eddie, I volunteered as a host. We ate the croonies," I stuttered slightly, fighting with myself to call the things by their names without having to throw up. "Grabbed the merc, grabbed Eddie and went home." I stared straight ahead, only partially aware of Bruce's disappointed sigh behind me.

"And it never crossed your mind that you shouldn't be doing this? All this hiding, this lying?" Tony asked, finally settling his hard stare on me. "There are professionals already working on this. It's not your job." His words were harsh but truthful.

Only this truth didn't sit well with me. I'd been monitored for years; there were too many secrets kept from me, too many what-ifs hung over my head. It was made worse by the uncertainty: did Tony know? Did Natasha know? Who else was hiding the fact that there had been a target on my back all along?

"Isn't it?" Anger began to creep in. I shrugged off Bruce's arm. "Isn't it my job to know your little organisation has been onto my ass for years? Isn't it my job to know I would have ended up in that position anyways, considering the fact that at least one hostile mutant gang wanted me to help them take over the world?" I stood up, interlocking my hands behind my back to conceal the shaking fingers. "Isn't it may fucking job to make sure that someone does something about the fact that my family is going crazy from helplessness?" I finished, looking directly at Tony. I hated seeing him recoil but some things needed to be said. "If you expected me to sit and do nothing while this bullshit is happening, you do not know me. At all."

"Years?" Barton interrupted in confusion. "I didn't even know you existed until Peter brought you over."

"Yes, Bird, years," I began to pace in agitation. "Apparently, many people think I'm much smarter than I am. I'm sure Cabre will be happy to tell you all about it," I sneered, stopping in front of the window to look at the dim, sleeping city. "Everybody seems to know about me more than I know about myself. I'm sick and I'm tired of people telling me what to do."

The silence behind me was telling. Maybe they really didn't know or maybe they just didn't really care. I wasn't naïve, I didn't expect gratitude for doing what I did but understanding would have been nice. Paradoxically, Venom's attitude was the most humane out of the whole gang. I hated being disappointed in people but ultimately, their safety and happiness was much more important than my feelings. They gave me a family - even if it was for a brief moment - and I owed them for it.

"Princess," Stephen's voice returned me back to reality. "We do not blame you. At least, I do not. We just want to know why didn't you trust us to help you," He pleaded quietly.

"It's not that I don't trust you. It's the fact you still consider me a child, some wilting flower. And perhaps, sometimes I act carefree," I inspected their reflection in the darkness of the glass pane. "But the truth is, I do not forget and I rarely forgive. And I definitely do not appreciate some random motherfucker messing around with people that I love," As soon as those words left my mouth, the heaviness from my shoulders disappeared. "And I don't regret it. I will burn down everything and everyone if I have even the slightest chance to protect what's mine."

A sharp intake of breath, someone choking on a sob. I closed my eyes, not ready to see the disappointed faces of my family - in moments like these, their heroic nature on stark display, I realized how much I did not fit amongst the do-gooders. The work I did was forever going to be the ungrateful kind; that much I've known forever but it didn't make facing that fact any less hard.

Soft, feminine hand landed on my shoulder as Natasha's perfume invaded my personal space. "I'm proud of you," The spy said quietly, wrapping the arm around my shoulders. "You did everything we couldn't do. That's a big deal if you ask me."

"And just like that, we're supposed to be okay with... This?" Steve's voice sounded exhausted.

"Yes," Bucky replied darkly. "If it was me in that place, you would have done the same. Oh wait," His tone turned sarcastic. "You did do the same. So, shut up, punk. We're lucky bastards if we have a person like that on our side."

I expected tears but none came. I felt nothing but relief, painful, as if I had spent weeks and weeks cramped up in a small space, unable to freely move and breathe.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95 @gladiosamicitias @warrior1-19 @toomanyrobins @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming

[underfell-crystal]

Stayed up til 3 am writing the first chapter of one of my books.... IT'S HERE!! Since I didn't realize you had to wait like a week to start writing in AO3, I'll be posting the chapters of both stories on tumblr for now.

I do not own any of the characters other than Crystal (kid with the white hair)! I'll probably write another chapter tomorrow while the brain juices are still flowing, so stay tuned!

~~~Prologue~~~

A long time ago, monsters and humans lived in harmony. One day, war broke out between the two races. In the end, the humans were victorious, and the monsters were sealed underground by a powerful spell, and have remained there for many years.

StoryGlitch was another UnderTale AU. It's core premise, as described by it's creator, was very similar to the original universe, but instead of the Determination Soul being the Angel, it was the Integrity Soul, which belonged to a little girl by the name of Crystal. She was meant to fall in place of Frisk. However... that never happened.

~~~20XX~~~

Crys woke up to the same thing as she usually did on Saturday mornings- her mother calling for her on the other side of her bedroom door with the smell of pancakes and bacon wafting through the air. She yawned, rolling over and snuggling back into her ocean-blue comforter as her mother's footsteps receded down the hall, still not quite ready to get up despite slowly being coaxed out of her drowsy state by the scent of perfectly cooked food.

Like clockwork, Crys' mother came back five minutes later and called for her again. This time, Crys sat up and rubbed her eyes, reluctantly sliding out of bed and padding down the hall to the kitchen, where a stack of pancakes loaded with syrup with a side of crispy bacon were waiting for her. She clambered onto one of the stools seated at the kitchen island and picked up her fork, eagerly digging into the soft, buttery pancakes. Her mother went through her Saturday routine of brewing herself a coffee, making a list of things she would need from the grocery store, and putting away the breakfast ingredients before finally sitting down to eat with Crys.

"Crys, honey, slow down. Nobody's taking your pancakes away from you."

Crys nodded in reply and slowed down a bit, if only to appease her mother. She swung her legs beneath the counter as she ate, and eventually her mother cleared both their plates and sent Crys up to her room to get dressed for their trip to the grocery store. Her mother had already picked out a cute, soft pink romper with a pink bow to match, which Crys absolutely adored. She loved decorating her plain white hair with colorful or interesting-looking things. While her single blue streak was better than ordinary plain white, she still preferred to wear little hair accessories. When her mother called for her again, Crys dashed from her room to the front door, allowing her mother to put her shoes onto her little feet. Her mother ushered her into their white car, and soon they were on their way to the grocery store.

The trip to the grocery store was uneventful, and so was the actual shopping. Her mother allowed Crys to get a single round, chocolate candy for behaving through the whole experience, which she enjoyed wholeheartedly the moment she was buckled into her booster seat. Her mother started driving home, and all was normal for a couple minutes. Then the world came to a halt, and Crys was thrown forward in her seat. She looked up at her mother to see what the cause of the sudden stop was, only to see a man standing in front of a white.... something. It definitely wasn't natural, being all cubey and stuff.

Crys' mother swore under her breath, and Crys reminded her "Swear jar."

Her mother, oddly, didn't seem to hear her, and instead threw open her door and jumped out. She pulled open Crys' door and quickly unbuckled her. As Crys was picked up and taken into her mother's arms, she saw blue strings wrapping around a man and a woman strolling down the street. Two glowing things appeared in front of them, and the strings wrapped around them. As Crys' mother started running, Crys could hear the screams of more people.

Crys didn't understand. Why was her mother crying? What happened to the man and lady? She tried to ask her mother, but her mother ignored her questions and kept running. Crys looked over her mother's shoulder and saw the strange man running after them. His skin was completely black, and his wide, yellow grin was visible even from where Crys was being held. He had blue strings attached to his fingers, and suddenly, the strings were there, wrapped around her and her mother's glowing things. Her mother clutched her tightly, begging and screaming at the man to stop as he slowly advanced towards them, grin widening as the strings around the glowing things squeezed.

At first, Crys didn't feel anything at all. Just the confusion and vague fear she felt from seeing her mother so distressed. Then the pain started. Crys had never experienced anything NEAR the level of pain that came from the blue heart in front of her. Falling down the stairs, skinning both her knees, and breaking her arm were incomparable to the absolute agony she felt as the strings squeezed the blue heart in front of her tightly. The sounds of the world became muffled, and she could only stare at the heart as it began to crack. Crys was vaguely aware of her mother screaming, and of the strange man laughing. She could also hear someone else's screams, and it took a moment for her mind to register that they were hers.

Then the heart broke in half, and Crys was plunged into darkness.

Dark... and cold... so cold....

There was something golden... she reached out and touched it. Suddenly she was back in the car, exactly when the man first appeared. Again, her mother swore, and grabbed Crys, running from the man. Again they were caught. Again the pain started. Again, she watched her blue heart snap in half.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. AgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgainAgain.

She felt herself take longer and longer to find the golden thing each time her blue heart was broken. She could barely sense the glow. She pressed her hand against the golden thing again, and again she was back in the car. Again, her mother grabbed her and ran. Again, the strange man caught them. Again, the pain started. But this time, as her soul began to break, Crys could feel something snap inside of her. White rectangles surrounded her body, and the strange man loosened his strings a little, staring at her, dumbfounded, as she struggled against his strings, more and more white particles appearing around her. Then, with a final scream of pain, Crys disappeared from the man's clutches, his strings grasping at nothing.

She vaguely felt herself land on something cold and soft as she ran away from the strange man. She tried to get up, but her body wouldn't cooperate. She screamed for help. But nobody came. She tried to look at her surroundings, but her vision was blurry with exhaustion. A few minutes later, she closed her eyes, her world slowly going silent as she faded out of consciousness.

~~~Chapter One: That's New~~~

Crys awoke to something delicious-smelling, along with what she faintly recognized as mustard. She sat up and realized she was on a green sofa, a thick red blanket draped over her. She looked down at herself and realized she was wearing an oversized red sweater that easily went down to her knees. She wondered where her jumper had gone, but that thought was quickly abandoned when someone walked into the room from what she assumed to be the kitchen. Only it wasn't a person. It was a SKELETON, with pearly white sharp teeth, with the exception of a single gold tooth, red eyes, and it was wearing a black coat and a similar red sweater to the one she was wearing. It seemed surprised to see her awake. It rumbled lowly, and she realized after a moment that it was actually speaking to her.

"-d? Kid? Uh, can ya hear me?"

The skeleton sounded vaguely male, with an accent like the cashier who told Crys he was from New York. Crys could only stare at the enormous monster before her.

"Uh, kiddo? Why ya lookin' at me like I'm a ghost?"

The skeleton chuckled. He seemed nervous. Crys was taken aback. What did this monster have to be nervous about? She opened her mouth to speak, but only a coughing fit came out. The skeleton quickly moved closer, and Crys flinched away. He stopped about a foot away and slowly held out his hand. Crys looked at his hand and realized he was holding a glass of water. He didn't move his hand any closer, so she reached out with trembling fingers and took it. She raised the glass to her mouth and gulped it down greedily, momentarily forgetting about the monster watching her as the thirst she hadn't even realized she had was partially quenched.

She looked up at the skeleton and tentatively held out the empty glass, whispering, "More? Please?"

The skeleton rumbled again (was that his laugh?) and took the glass, retreating back to the kitchen. While he was gone, Crys took the opportunity to look around the place she was in. It seemed to be an ordinary home. There was even a TV. There were stairs nestled against a wall leading up to a second floor as well, and Crys could see the tops of two doors behind the railing. The walls looked like they had seen quite a few fights, based on the scorch marks and holes in them.

Crys' attention was drawn away from the upstairs of the house as the skeleton shuffled out of the kitchen, holding the refilled glass. Crys didn't shy away this time when he came close, and she took the glass again, drinking more slowly and observing the skeleton over the rim of the glass with large, dark blue eyes. The skeleton sat down in front of her, now eye level with her. Crys drew her knees up to her chest and tucked the blanket around her legs, remembering that this was an actual monster that was likely going to eat her, judging by the very pointy teeth he had. Nevertheless, she swallowed another gulp of water and croaked, "W... Who are you...?"

The skeleton bared his teeth at her (or was that a smile?) and held out his hand for her to shake.

"The name's Sans, kiddo. Sans the Skeleton."

Crys slowly reached out and grabbed the skeleton's hand, when a loud farting noise interrupted the quiet. Crys stared at the skeleton, in shock. He snickered.

"Heheh.... the ol' whoopee cushion in the hand trick. It's always funny."

Crys startled herself with her own peal of laughter. At the sound of her joy, the skeleton visibly relaxed, shoulders slumping and releasing tension Crys hadn't even noticed he was carrying. He grinned at her.

"So, kiddo.... What's yer name?"

Crys hesitated, still unsure. After all, this was something that wasn't supposed to be real. Sans sensed her reluctance, and offered a smaller, less threatening smile.

"'S ok, kid, I don't bite."

".... Crys.... my name's Crys..."

Sans smiled a bit wider. "That's a nice name."

Crys smiled at him, his compliment lowering her wariness a bit more. Sans gave her a concerned look.

"So, uh.... what were ya doin' out in the snow all by yerself?"

Crys shrugged. Sans continued.

"And how didja get here without goin' through the Ruins?"

"Ruins?"

Sans nodded. "It's where all the humans came out of. Ya just sorta... poofed into existence in the middle of Snowdin Forest."

Crys shrugged agin, feeling nervousness coil around her heart, although she didn't know why. Sans sighed, seeming irritated. "Alright kid, I get that ya might not wanna talk about it, but I seriously need to know how ya got here."

Crys felt the familiar sense of slipping away as she did when she first started escaping the strange man. Sans didn't seem to notice her unease.

"Yer lucky I got to ya in time... ya might have frozen to death a few minutes later, or been attacked by another monster wanderin' through the forest."

Panic started to swell in her gut. She saw the familiar white particles at the edge of her vision, and Sans stopped talking, looking at her oddly. Crys curled up beneath the red blanket, letting out a choked sob.

"I-I don't know! I... I don't know how- how I got here!!"

Sans looked alarmed. "Woah, woah, kid! It's okay! Calm down!"

His words did nothing to soothe her rising anxiety. She let out another sob, hiding her face beneath the blanket. A moment later, the blanket was pulled down from her head, and she felt something begin stroking her hair. She looked up and realized the skeleton was running his oddly human-feeling bone-fingers through her hair. He seemed embarrassed, but also lost on what to do. The stroking was actually quite comforting, and after a few minutes, Crys saw the white in her vision fade away, leaving her an unobserved view of Sans' face, especially his sharp teeth. He pulled his hand away from her head and cleared his throat (how?), looking abashed.

"Heh.... sorry I spooked ya, kiddo... I didn't mean ta."

"It's okay," Crys murmured. She got the feeling he really hadn't meant to.

Sans stood up. He smiled at her again.

"Wanna have a hot cat, kiddo?"

Crys tilted her head in confusion. "What's a hot cat?"

Sans chuckled. "'S like what you humans call a hot dog. Only it's a cat."

Crys was intrigued by this new animal-themed food, and swung her legs off the couch and stood up. Immediately, the room tilted around her, and she fell to the side. Sans, thankfully, caught her before she could hit the ground and scooped her up, enveloping her in his arms. He smelled like mustard, and his jacket was warm and soft. Crys couldn't help but snuggle into his jacket. He let out a low, rumbly laugh that shook her bones.

"Don't fall asleep now, babybones. You still gotta eat."

Crys closed her eyes anyway, and slipped into a dreamless sleep.

Next

~Feel free to ask questions and voice your thoughts about the story in my ask box! Goodbye my gems!~

[owletstarlet]

For a prompt, maybe a Tanunatsu college AU? I'm sort of picturing something where Natsume is visiting the shrine for a weekend and Tanuma is trying not to focus on the fact that his boyfriend now has earrings

(*insert profuse apology for how long this took here* I had initially wanted to get this posted in time for @natsumeweek as one of the prompts was “future” but I guess this is more an early happy-September-birthday-to-Tanuma fic... 

ao3 link in the comments.

When the doorbell rings, it’s a near thing for Kaname to not spill his tea all over the keyboard. He has to remind himself several times on his way to answer it not to look as ludicrously eager as he feels, as though his heart might float right on up and out through the top of his head, in case it’s a mail carrier or a maintenance worker at the door.

It isn’t.

It takes all of a second and a half before Kaname’s got his arms full of him, face buried in his hair.

“Hi,” he mutters, voice muffled against the top of Natsume’s head.

“Hi,” Natsume says back, and Kaname can hear the grin in his voice, feel the arms coming to rest around his waist.

They stand like that for several seconds, in the genkan with the door wide open, and Kaname can feel all the tension he’s been holding for six weeks bleed out of him. Eventually, he asks, “How was your flight?”

“I liked it.” His voice is just as muffled against Kaname’s shoulder. “Sensei didn’t.”

“Really?” Kaname finally pulls back enough to see his face. He looks well, relaxed and smiling, the barest dusting of freckles across his nose from time spent outdoors, and it’s almost enough to push a month and a half’s worth of swirling images and morbid what ifs out of his mind. “You’d think Ponta would enjoy flying.”

Natsume rolls his eyes a little, but there’s something fond in the set of his mouth. “He complained the whole time, about being stuck in human form, and kept saying it was unnatural or something to be up so high where he couldn’t even see the treetops past all the clouds.”

Kaname grins at the thought. “Where’s he off to right now?” He pulls Natsume into the genkan, finally lets him go so he can get his shoes off.

“Probably off getting drunk. Or begging snacks off Touko-san. She was pretty happy to see him.”

Natsume’s been up in Aomori for a little over a month, on a few jobs with the Matsuokas. Field training, as Natori had cheerfully put it to Kaname over the phone. And Kaname hadn’t been thrilled about that, but had felt marginally better to hear that Natori would accompany him for most of the trip.

The Matsuoka clan wasn’t particularly prominent or large, but they were well-funded and well-connected. It was Natori who’d reached out to them over a year ago, once Natsume had given his slightly grudging consent to it. Since then Natsume’s been living two and a half hours away in a spacious apartment and attending a university to which the Matsuokas happened to be generous donors. In exchange for this, and their tutelage, Natsume accompanies and assists them with exorcisms. They’re apparently pleased enough to have him, and Natsume’s told Kaname that they haven’t asked him to do anything he’s opposed to; it’s often either binding a harmful entity or else simply sitting down to listen to whatever it is the troublesome youkai-of-the-day is after. But despite Natori being on good terms with the head of the clan, he’d had to make it perfectly clear that Natsume had no interest in longterm recruitment. Or, at the very least, that potential adoption into the clan was to be a decision that Natsume would be entirely free to turn down.

Kaname himself, meanwhile, hasn’t gone anywhere since graduation. Natori had floated the idea of Kaname joining Natsume, that the Matsuokas be perfectly willing to take him on. And, admittedly, the prospect of learning how to defend himself, and others, with the basics of exorcism under his belt had its appeal. Especially since a big factor in Natsume’s own decision had been an ugly encounter with some cave-dwelling youkai that had landed him in the hospital for weeks, an incident which had ultimately led to the truth--or parts of it, at least-- spilling out to the Fujiwaras. Kaname still has nightmares about it.  

It was ultimately the prospect of being able to go with Natsume while he was out on a job instead of having to sit around and fret about it that had had Kaname prepared to agree to the offer. But then Dad had needed knee surgery, and a complicated one at that. And Kaname learned very quickly just how much work it takes to run a temple essentially on one’s own. Theirs was part of a larger organization of temples in the prefecture, who had arranged for Dad to be sent here in the first place. To be fair, they’d been as helpful as they were able, and are still paying Dad a salary. Another priest would come two or three days a week to fulfill necessary duties and rites and enabling them to stay at least partially open to visitors while Dad recuperated, and a maintenance worker would show up once a week to help Kaname care for the actual grounds. But Kaname still typically spends the better part of his week at the desk of Dad’s cramped office poring over order forms and spreadsheets he doesn’t always understand, attempting to balance the books of a little temple that barely takes in enough revenue to stay afloat even with the organization’s support. He’s gotten better at it, and Dad’s helped a lot, but even though he’s  recovered enough to receive visitors and resume some of his religious duties, Kaname still tries to keep him out of the office most days so he can get some rest.

Still, Dad worries, not only that Kaname is overworking himself but about how his friends have all gone off to school, how he rarely leaves the temple grounds unless he’s running errands. He knows about Natori’s offer regarding the Matsuokas, Kaname’s discussed it with him. And though he’s made it clear that it’s ultimately Kaname’s decision he’s made it equally clear that he likes the idea—both for the sake of Kaname’s mental health and for the prospect of him learning how to better protect himself. On occasions when Dad’s pushed himself too hard and worn himself out, Kaname has threatened to accept the offer but go on to major in accounting just to get hired on by the temple organization and then end up right back home. But he has to admit, he’s been dreaming of it—of the airy kitchen that always smells just a bit like the tea Natsume drinks in the mornings, of the sun-dappled corner where Sensei likes to curl up and nap, of the balcony overlooking a cityscape both unfamiliar and beautiful in its own way, the mountains that look blue in the distance. Of waking up to Natsume’s cheek squashed against the pillow beside him, safe and whole and wonderfully there. He’ll probably have to wait until the next academic year begins, but he thinks it wouldn’t be so bad at all.

“I have something for you,” he tells Natsume now, scooping up the backpack Natsume had set down while taking off his shoes. Natsume smiles, tilts his head just a bit in question. But when he does, Kaname sees something, a glinting just beneath his hair on one side. He blinks, steps forward to brush Natsume’s hair back. “What’s—”

And when he sees what it is, he thinks his face must do something odd, because Natsume’s smile has faltered a bit, turned sheepish. “I actually thought you’d have noticed them already,” he says.

“I left my glasses by the computer,” he murmurs, and he thinks he’s staring. He should probably stop staring. “And your hair’s gotten longer anyways.”

Natsume shrugs, looking a touch pinker than before. “It’s just on the one side.” A pause. “It doesn’t look weird, does it? I don’t really trust Natori’s opinion.”

“It’s not weird.” The answer is immediate, almost embarrassingly so. He realizes they haven’t moved from the genkan, and that he hasn’t quite managed to quit staring, so he takes Natsume’s hand and tugs him towards the kitchen. He hopes his palms aren’t as clammy as he thinks they are.

There are two hoops in his left earlobe, side by side, one silver and one gold, catching the light from behind strands of pale hair. They’re subtle enough—Kaname doesn’t think the tip of his little finger could fit through either—but the sight of them makes the air stick strangely in Kaname’s throat.

“Did they hurt?” he asks, a moment later.

“Not really.” Natsume takes a seat at the worn kitchen table, hand hovering up near his ear in a way that’s half considering, half self-conscious. “Right when they do it, yes, but not so much after.”

Kaname goes to get Natsume a drink, but pauses with his hand on the refrigerator door, considering. “Any particular reason you got it done?” he starts, tone as light as possible. If Natsume’s already shy about it, Kaname doesn’t want to make it worse, but he can’t pretend he isn’t curious. “Just because you wanted to, or…”

“No, I—I mean. I don’t hate it, but there was a reason.” The shade of Natsume’s cheeks is on just this side of salmon when Kaname glances back, and it’s so frankly adorable that Kaname has to turn his back again, not trusting himself to keep a straight face. “Do you remember the farm in Aomori I told you about?” Natsume continues. “The owners had called the Matsuokas for an exorcism because their livestock kept getting sick so we stayed for a few days.”

“I remember.” He also remembers all the grim visuals his own imagination had served up over the course of those three long days, until he’d gotten the text that all was resolved and that Natsume was safe and whole and on a train away from that place.

“The family had a connection to a lesser exorcist clan that sort of fizzled out a few generations ago. And Sayaka-san—ah, the wife—was really her aunt and uncle’s only heir because they didn’t have children. They were both exorcists, and she’d inherited a few things from them.”

“Did the angry ayakashi have something to do with that clan?” Kaname asks, setting two cups of lemonade on the table and sliding into the seat across from Natsume. And god if it doesn’t do something to him, to see Natsume right there, right across from him, pale fingers wrapping easily around the lumpy clay cup Kaname made in middle school, afternoon light through the window settling in his hair and glinting starlike off those new tiny hoops in his ear and every day, Kaname wants this every day. Just this. He swallows, hard, forces himself to pay attention because Natsume’s talking again.

“It actually had nothing to do with them. The farm had been owned by her husband’s family anyhow, but. The land the farm sat on was at the center of some dispute between two ayakashi, some territory thing they bicker about every hundred years. All Sensei and I really did was get them both to agree to meet each other, and they mostly sorted it out themselves from there.”

Kaname blinks. “The Matsuokas didn’t do anything?”

Natsume shrugs. “They didn’t really need to. Sensei worked out what was going on pretty quickly, and didn’t really wait up for their help. He thought the exorcists barging in would just make things worse.” He pauses to take a sip of lemonade. As soon as he does, his eyes light up. “Ah—your lavender! You got to harvest it?”

Kaname feels a grin touch his lips as he watches Natsume take a second, larger gulp of the lemonade, in his face all the bliss of an elementary schooler who’s gotten his hands on an ice cream pop at the park. He’s a bit surprised Natsume didn’t notice the smell straightaway when Kaname had poured it, but to be fair the entire kitchen smells a bit like lavender most days. “I did. I’ll tell you about it later. Finish your story first.”

He does, after yet another hearty gulp. “When it was all resolved and we went to tell the family, Sayaka-san wanted to give me a gift. I told her not to, because it was more Sensei than me, and Hiiragi helped too—Natori sent her with me because Sensei didn’t want him there either—they made sure neither of the ayakashi could get away until they settled the dispute. I asked a couple of questions, mostly because I wasn’t sure what was going on—it was something about a sacred pine grove—but it wasn’t like I resolved things for them.”

Kaname doesn’t need to hear the specifics to be soundly convinced that Natsume’s not giving himself near enough credit. He takes his own sip of lemonade, the tartness of it tempered by the softer herbal taste that lingers on his tongue. “What was the gift?”

Natsume smiles, a bit rueful. “Earrings.”

Kaname points. “Those?”

“No, these were just to get the piercings done, but I can show you later. They’re talismans, and pretty effective ones from what Sensei could tell. It’s a set of six, they’re little round polished stones in all different colors. I’ve got the types of stone written down somewhere and what each of them is useful for but I don’t really remember. Sayaka-san had inherited them from her aunt and uncle.”

“Did she know what they were for?”

“Vaguely. Enough to think she didn’t have as much use for them as I might. They’d just been sitting in a box in the house, and she was really glad the problem was fixed, so. She insisted. But Natori also insisted on paying her for them.” His mouth twists. “She didn’t love that, but I think he had a sense of how valuable they were, and didn’t want anyone trying to step in and claim I’d gotten them illegitimately. I like Yasuda-san and Tanaka-san—they were the clan members that went with us—and I really don’t think they’d do something like that, but I guess it’s better to be cautious.”

Kaname’s not sure how to feel about that. “That’d technically make them Natori’s then, right?”

Natsume huffs a short sigh. “I did try to make him take at least some of them, but he said they’d do me more good than him, that he’d feel better if I wore them at least some of the time. Also that his agent would kill him anyways if he showed up with holes in his ears. So he took me to get mine done, instead.” His hand’s inching upwards again, like he can’t decide if he wants to touch his ear or hide it from sight.

Kaname reaches across the table and intercepts his hand midair, lacing their fingers together in a move that’s objectively more awkward than suave, but it makes Natsume’s lips twitch nonetheless, and that feels like an achievement. “What’d the Fujiwaras say?” he asks.

“Well when I explained why I got it done, they were all for it, but.” Lips pursed, he looks equal parts embarrassed and affectionately exasperated. “I think it sort of amused them. Touko-san said it looked ‘very handsome’ and had me promise to clean them really well, and Shigeru-san cracked a few jokes about rock stars.”

“I mean—”

Natsume shoots him a withering look. “Don’t you start.”

Kaname agrees with Touko; can picture the barest hint of mischief touching the corners of her wide, delighted smile. “Will you get the other side done?” he asks. “If you’ve got six.”

He shrugs. “Natori said two at a time would be fine. And both sides seemed a bit…”

There’s a dozen different adjectives Kaname could fill in at the end of that sentence, none of them remotely close to what Natsume looks to be thinking. If he had showed up with both sides done, Kaname’s quite sure that his own reaction would’ve embarrassed them both.

“I did think—” Natsume starts, then seems to need a moment to rally himself before continuing. “If you wanted,” he begins again, looking rather more at some spot on Kaname’s cheek than at his eyes. “You could take some of them.”

“Oh.” It’s safe to say that’s not an offer Kaname had anticipated. “I’m not…I’m not an exorcist, though.”

“Neither am I,” Natsume counters, his fingernail tracing idly across the back of Kaname’s hand where their hands are still twined together across the tabletop. “Not really. And you are good at cleansings and banishings, anyways.”

“That’s…it’s kind of just a matter of showing up and remembering the words, but thank you.” He’d been practicing a bit of that at Dad’s suggestion and with his help, and had genuinely found the memorizing to be the most arduous part of it all; he’d taken to muttering the trickier, more unwieldy bits of sutra under his breath to practice while watering the plants or doing housework, most days.

“You’re good at it,” Natsume repeats. “I don’t want to make you feel like you’ve got to go and put holes in your ears if you don’t want to but I thought…” he trails off, looking uncertain.

“Thought what?”

 He lets out a tight breath, then says, the words jumbling together a bit as though he’s afraid he’ll lose his nerve if he doesn’t get it out quickly, “I thought you could use them if you still wanted to come apprentice with the Matsuokas too.”

“I do.” He surprises himself with the immediate answer, but it crystallizes inside him even as he says it. “I will.”

Natsume’s eyes go round. “Really?”

“Really.”

Natsume smushes his lips together for a moment before speaking again, the taut look on his face suggesting there’s something before him now that he’s not sure he ought to hope for. “But…your dad—“

“I think Dad’s close to packing my bags himself if I don’t get out of here soon and go do something that doesn’t involve spreadsheets and invoices.” He feels himself smile. “I’d need to wait for the new school term, and don’t think I can do much to help out an exorcist clan, but…”

“You’ll do fine,” Natsume interjects, in a murmur. “I told you that.” And he had; as nerve-wracking as it is for Kaname to consider that he’d be literally blind to so many of the youkai the clan would be taking on, Natsume had said that he’d already met a handful of respected exorcists who worked for or alongside the Matsuokas whose sight for the supernatural was even less than Kaname’s. Some, even, with no sight whatsoever—who, like Dad, could compensate for that fact with knowledge and technique and become formidable in their own right. It’d been a comfort to know, but Kaname can’t say he’s not nervous about getting someone hurt because he couldn’t keep up, or excusing himself to go be sick behind a tree in the middle of some crucial binding or ritual because his body wouldn’t tolerate it.

Still.

“I want to go with you.” It’s out of his mouth before he can even find it in himself to be embarrassed about it. He’s staring at their hands, his own wrapped tightly around Natsume’s cool fingertips like he’ll find himself alone in the kitchen if he lets go.

Some of the creases in Natsume’s forehead soften. “That apartment’s too big for just me,” he says, with a tiny smile, looking down into his cup. “As long as you don’t get yourself eaten.” He pulls a slight grimace. “Or recruited.”

The first option’s more likely than the second, Kaname thinks but doesn’t say. “I won’t if you don’t,” he says instead.

“No chance of that.” Natsume taps the side of his cup with two fingers. “I think Sensei would rather eat me himself than consent to working for an exorcist. It puts him in a bad enough mood to be mistaken for a shiki as it is.”

Natsume had been very clear from the beginning, that his only reason for working with the Matsuokas was to learn to protect people, though Kaname also knows that means doing so without having to harm any ayakashi that ought to be left well enough alone. Kaname’s not sure why any of that has to be mutually exclusive from pursuing exorcism as a career path, but he’s certainly spent less time with exorcists and clan politics than Natsume has. And he can’t say he wouldn’t appreciate Natsume choosing a less dangerous day job.

“You’re sure?” Natsume’s asking him, now. His expression hasn’t changed much, but behind his eyes Kaname can see the years stacked upon years of learning to brace himself for rejection.

“I am."

***

They’re on the veranda now, legs hanging over the edge, the tips of Natsume’s socked toes not quite brushing the mossy carpet below.  Heaped on the floorboards between them is what Kaname now realizes is probably an excessive amount of lavender: dried blooms in a glass jar, loose stems fastened with twine into bunches, yet more blooms rather poorly sewn into cotton sachets with simple blessings Dad had helped him write tucked inside. And finally, currently perched atop Natsume’s head where Kaname had placed it on a whim a moment ago, a carefully twisted wreath of pale purple and silvery green.

“You don’t have to use it all,” he tells Natsume, tapping lid of the jar. “Or take it all. It’s a lot.”

Natsume gives him a small sidelong grin, and with those slitted eyes catching and holding the afternoon sun as if it belongs to them, Kaname has to remind himself to breathe.

“Did you leave any for yourself?” Natsume asks wryly.

A soft snort. “Plenty. I had no idea they’d bloom so much this year, after how pitiful it was last year. I harvested most of them twice.”

Kaname’s got a literal dozen plants, the seeds a gift from one of Dad’s associates who’d gotten them on one of his frequent trips to a network of temples in Hokkaido. Kaname had sprouted them in egg cartons and had done his best with them, knowing that plants more suited to a milder climate far to the north would be finicky to say the least. It had taken two years to coax a decent harvest from them, and that had taken digging up a long strip of garden space to fill in with the sand and gravel they needed, and then painstakingly potting and repotting them all to move them between the flowerbed and a sunny storeroom he’d cleared out at the rear of the house when the weather grew too wet. Dad had joked that they’d bloomed so well this year because Kaname had spent so much time mumbling sutra while tending to them, but whatever the case it had been deeply satisfying to cut and hang the bunches of long fragrant stems up to dry when they’d been so scraggly the year before.

Natsume takes a sachet into his hands, holding it gently between his fingers up to his eye level. It turns a faint purple where the afternoon sun lights it from behind.

“I’m not sure it’ll do any actual good in protecting you,” Kaname says, watching him lightly touch his fingertip to the outline of the card where the blessing is inked. “Taki would be better for that. But it’ll make your pillowcases smell nice, at least.”

Natsume brings it up to his face, letting his eyes shutter as it covers his nose and mouth. “It smells like your room,” he says softly. He reaches up to where the wreath is settled in his hair. “This too.”

“Well I’ve got the one on the wall near my bed,” he says, certain he’s failing to sound casual when there’s that rare, unveiled softness in Natsume’s eyes. His tongue feels heavy and strange, and there’s a sensation like so many soda bubbles fizzing and popping in his chest, but he somehow manages to say, “The smell’s relaxing, so I like it there, but. You can put it anywhere you want. Sorry for not tying it so neatly.”

Natsume takes his hand off the wreath, sets it over Kaname’s, fingertips chilled from the refilled cup he’d carried with him. “It’s a good thing the apartment has a big veranda.”

Kaname chuckles, shakes his head. “Not big enough for a dozen large pots. Where would we hang the laundry?”

“We’ll fit them.” Natsume shrugs, tips his head back, looking utterly serene. “Won’t you want them for your tea?”

And that’s about when Kaname can’t take it anymore. He turns, cups Natsume’s face in both hands, and kisses his parted lips.

For the space of a breath, Natsume’s motionless against his mouth, but Kaname barely has the time to start to wonder if he’s done the wrong thing before he can feel the cool grip above his elbows, practically taste the featherlight sigh between lips that have opened wider to move with his own.

When they part, a long lightheaded moment later, Natsume’s reaching up towards his own hair, brows scrunching together, cheeks marvelously flushed under Kaname’s fingers. “Isn’t this poking you in the face?” He taps his makeshift crown.

“Yes,” Kaname says simply, leaning in to peck the very tip of Natsume’s nose.

Natsume bites down on a smile, not quite managing to look disapproving, and not moving to take it off, either. “All the flowers will fall off.”

I’ll make a better one, is what he means to say. What comes out of his mouth instead, entirely unbidden, is, “I missed you.” His voice snags oddly on the last word, and he swallows hard. A month and some change does not warrant falling to pieces on him, Kaname tells himself sternly, a handful of colorful nightmares notwithstanding. He’d made enough of a scene when he’d nearly tackled him at the door, hadn’t he. Still, he doesn’t trust himself to speak until Natsume does, his throat feeling suspiciously thick.

Natsume, for his part, looks a bit stricken, at first. And Kaname has the sudden thought that he’s grappling with the idea of being missed to such a degree in the first place. But the expression shifts soon enough into one of concern, and warmth.

“You won’t have to, for long,” he murmurs, after pulling Kaname back in for a gentle brush of lips across his cheekbone. “I won’t, either.” A lingering pause. Then, “…ah, sorry. That’s got to be stabbing you in the eye, right?”

Kaname blinks when Natsume abruptly pulls away, feeling muzzy and untethered and wanting very much for Natsume to be kissing him again until he realizes that Natsume’s gingerly lifting the wreath off his head. It catches on his hair despite his best efforts, enough to tug a few blossoms loose, and enough to knock aside those strands that have grown out just long enough to fall past his earlobes.   

And Kaname couldn’t have pretended not to stare if his life depended on it.

His hand’s up, fingers outstretched before he even realizes. “Can I, um. It’s not going to hurt you or anything if I—”

“No. Go ahead.”

But Kaname’s only just touched the tip of his finger to the outermost hoop—the barest amount of pressure enough to make it lie flat against the bottom of Natsume’s earlobe—when Natsume sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, ducking his head out of Kaname’s reach.

Kaname snaps his hand back, distressed. “I’m sor—”

“No, it tickles.” Natsume straightens back up, rubbing at his ear with more vigor than he probably ought to whether it’s fully healed or not, leaving the metal gleaming against reddened skin.

Kaname raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

The glare Natsume shoots him is truly remarkable, though the effect is somewhat dampened by his mussed hair, the crumbly bits of lavender that have fallen onto his shoulders. Kaname throws his hands up, a picture of innocence, tucking this particular scrap of information away for a later date.

“For what it’s worth, though…” he starts, once he is well and truly sure that Natsume won’t try to scoot himself several meters down the porch and out of his reach; his arms are wrapped loosely around himself and he’s smiling again, though warily. But at that moment Kaname finds himself so thoroughly arrested with love that he couldn’t have launched the anticipated attack if he tried. “For what it’s worth. The earrings look good.”

[d3-iseefire]

@strictlynofrills​ - Here you go! I’ sorry it took so long! I was writing it on work breaks and after I got home! hope you enjoy it! :D

"Look out!"

Bilba barely had time to register the words before a short, hyperactive blur darted across her path. She sucked in her gut and twisted, simultaneously lifting the two full trays she'd been carrying in each hand.

As she did she crouched ever so slightly, trying to keep her movements as fluid and seamless as possible. On the trays two full glasses wobbled and Bilba tensed. Then they settled and she let out a slow breath in relief.

A smattering of applause came from a handful of patrons and Bilba took a careful, partial curtsey in gratitude. A few feet to the side, the small boy that had nearly caused her to trip had the good manners to look embarrassed. "Sorry."

"That's all right," Bilba said, keeping her voice modulated and soft. "Let's just leave the running for the playground in the future, okay?"

He nodded and resumed his trek toward the bathroom, still moving quickly but no longer in a full out run.

Bilba shook her head, struggling to ignore the way her legs wobbled beneath her, and resumed her trek into the restaurant's dim room. She'd never particularly cared for mood lightning before but was grateful for it today as the bags under her eyes were especially dark and makeup had done little to cover them entirely.

No one wanted  a waitress who looked like she'd stepped out of a zombie movie.

She wound her way around glass topped wooden tables and chairs wrapped in plum colored leather, navigating pushed out chairs and sprawled personal belongings with ease.

Many of the tables were occupied with regulars and she greeted each with a bright smile as she set down appetizers, entrees, desserts and drinks. Quiet, relaxing music played over the low, steady flow of conversation and she saw more than one female guest slide off uncomfortable looking heels to sink sore toes into the plush carpeting.

Shire had been designed to be both upscale and cozy. Patrons could expect a high-class experience, but one where they also felt comfortable and relaxed. It was a place to bring a date, hold a business meeting, or just come and relax over a glass of wine after a long workday.

It'd be a perfect place to sleep too, Bilba thought, gazing with longing at the padded booths. She sighed and forced her eyes away, focusing instead on a familiar figure in a darkened booth at the back of the restaurant. Bilba saved him for last, in the hopes of being able to spend a minute or two speaking to him. As she sat his plate down he smiled up at her fondly. "And how are you doing tonight, my dear?"

Bilba glared at him. "Don't give me that, Gandalf."

The elderly man raised an eyebrow innocently. "Is there a problem?"

"You know darn well there is." Bilba gave into her fatigue just a little and slid into the booth across from him. Her head was pounding with the promise of a headache and she had that all over ache that was her body's way of telling her she should have gone to bed days ago. It had become almost a part of her over the past year and there seemed to be no getting used to it no matter how much coffee she drank.

She lowered her voice to a low hiss, not wanting to disrupt the other guests. "You didn't tell me everything about the new maitre d'."

The older man's other eyebrow slowly raised. "Did I not?" He lifted his wine glass and took a sip. "I'm certain I was quite thorough."

Bilba's glare deepened. Gandalf was an old family friend, and also one of the most prominent lawyers in the city. He'd been the one to convince her that trying to run Shire completely alone, filling the role of owner, manager, and maitre d' was simply insane. He'd offered to find her someone trustworthy and reliable to help with some of the workload, and she'd reluctantly agreed.  

A few weeks later he'd brought her a name. Fili Durin. Bilba had recognized the last name as belonging to the past owners of Arkenstone, an internationally known, high end restaurant. At its height people were making reservations a year or more in advance and, those lucky enough to get in and actually afford something, would be guaranteed to find themselves in the midst of the world's most famous and powerful people.

The last Durin owner, Thrain, had made a series of increasingly bad business decisions that, ultimately, had resulted in a hostile takeover by Smaug Drakestone. He was the owner of Drakestone Barbecue, a retail federation of chain, fast food restaurants. The day he'd taken over, he'd turned Arkenstone into the flagship for his chain, much to the public outcry of the culinary world.

The Durins, driven into near bankruptcy according to rumor, had faded from the public eye and gone unheard of by anyone for years, or at least before Gandalf had held up that slim file. Bilba had been impressed with his education and degree in both culinary arts and hospitality but had been far less enthralled with his lack of experience.

When she'd pointed that out to Gandalf the man had simply chuckled. "Are you sure you're the one to be making that judgement, my dear?"

The words had brought a flush of red to her cheeks, as well as an ego check. Bilba had never wanted to work in the restaurant industry and had taken little interest in Shire as anything more than a way to get free gourmet food whenever she wanted. She'd been going to school for a degree in creative writing when...everything had happened.

It had been a trial by fire for her, trying to learn what she needed to know to ensure her parent's dream didn't die with them, and there were certainly days where she couldn't say for sure if she was sinking or swimming.

Most days she was pretty sure it was the former.

"What the boy lacks in experience he makes up for in passion," Gandalf had said gently to ease the sting of his prior words. "Much like someone else I could name. Give him a chance. I have a feeling you won't be disappointed."

Bilba had agreed, trusting the other man to not steer her wrong.

It was a decision she both loved and deeply regretted at the same time.

"Has the boy not been doing a satisfactory job?" Gandalf asked now, brows pulling together in concern.

"On the contrary," Bilba mumbled. "He's done an amazing job."

More than amazing, really. Fili was the first one in and often the last one out. He manned the front desk, managed the staff, kept schedules up, and still somehow managed to learn the names of their patrons as well as their likes and dislikes. He had the uncanny ability to gauge a person's personality after a few seconds of speaking to them and organized the seating to ensure people were not seated next to personalities that would clash with their own. Shire's approval scores had gone up over 15% since he'd started, and the pressure on Bilba's shoulders had gone from crippling to simply overbearing.

Hell, she'd been averaging almost five hours of sleep a night, not taking into account this past week when Fili had been gone.

"Well," Gandalf asked in confusion. "If that's not the problem, my dear, then wha--"

His voice trailed off as a presence fell over them. Bilba felt her gut clench. Oh no. She'd forgotten he was supposed to be back that night.

"Ah, Mr. Durin," Gandalf said cheerfully. "What a pleasure to meet you again."

"The pleasure is mine," a familiar bass said and Bilba's insides literally begin to do a full on, Olympic style gymnastics routine. Bastards. "Miss Baggins--"

He didn't get a chance to say anything else as Bilba jumped to her feet, planning to...do...something...only to feel her hand smack into the tray she'd set on the edge of the table when she'd sat down.

The one she'd collected a few empty dishes and sets of cutleries on, intending to take it back with her.

In almost slow motion she watched as the entire tray flipped off the edge of the table. The loud clatter of knives, spoons and forks hitting the ground ripped through the serene atmosphere of the dining room, along with the unmistakable shattering of glass as the carpeting failed to save the three plates and near empty soup bowl as they impacted.

Most restaurants had tile floors for just such situations, Bilba found herself thinking irrationally as she watched the remnants of dark liquid soak into the tan covered fibers. Her parents had liked the carpet, insisting it gave a homier feel to the place. They hadn't minded having to deep clean the carpets on a near weekly basis to ensure they stayed looking their very best.

Bilba minded, very much. Particularly since, as of late, it had all been thanks to her that they needed to be cleaned to begin with.

Total silence fell over the restaurant, and Bilba felt her face catch fire. She focused on Fili's shoes, the black leather marred by drops of soup, and her heart sank.

"Sorry." She started to drop to her knees, only to stop as his hand closed lightly over her arm to stop her.

"Careful," he said mildly. "You don't want to kneel in broken glass."

Bilba's eyes flicked to his really intense, blue, eyes and an almost electric charge surged right through her. She straightened, fighting a wave of dizziness, and focused on the ground. It was the only way she could to avoid noticing his dark blond hair, or chiseled features, or the way his body filled out his suit -- and, really, who the hell decided maître d's had to always wear suits? Okay, so it wasn't like she minded, much, but she was like five seconds away from having a heart attack at any given moment so that was a problem and -- what was she doing again?

Oh, right, broken glass and humiliation and he was still touching her.

She jerked her arm free with a nervous laugh that she prayed didn't sound borderline hysterical or insane like it did in her head and knelt more carefully.

To her surprise, he knelt next to her. For the first time, she noticed he held the tray in his hand and she realized she hadn't heard the loud clang of it hitting. "Did you catch that?"

"An acquired trait," he said dryly, as he picked up utensils and the larger bits of broken glass. He sounded amused, or at least Bilba hoped he did.

He stood, and Bilba rose with him, closing her eyes this time and breathing through her nose to try and keep her feet. Fili handed her the tray with no small amount of trepidation. Bilba focused on broken bits and pieces of dishes on the tray and, before she could embarrass herself farther, spun and returned to the kitchen, past one of the other servers who was already headed to the area with a vacuum to finish cleaning.

***

Fili watched the young woman until she vanished through the swinging doors of the kitchen. She looked exhausted. She normally looked exhausted, but far more so tonight. Mentally, he kicked himself for having stayed away so long. He should have tried harder to get back earlier.

He sighed and turned back to the booth. He completely ignored the roar of the vacuum as it made quick work of the remaining broken glass and, around him, the rest of the room slowly followed his lead and returned to their own meals.

Once the clean up was finally done, he flashed a smile at Gandalf. "As I was saying, it's good to see you Mr. Grayson."

The older man looked positively delighted by something, and Fili's eyes narrowed slightly as he tried to figure out just what it was.

From the kitchen a second, loud, crash rang out and Fili closed his eyes, counted to five, and then opened them again. "I'm almost afraid to see how much we lost the last five days I was gone."

"I have a feeling you'll find it to be nothing at all," Gandalf said with amusement. "Bilba happens to be the best waitress Shire has."

Fili raised an eyebrow. "Is she?" he asked doubtfully.

"Indeed," Gandalf said. "In fact, she took over your place while you were gone."

There was the slightest hint of censure in his voice and Fili nodded with a grimace, remembering again the deep bags under her eyes. "My grandfather passed away unexpectedly and the funeral was out of town."

He'd been worried over even asking for the time off, funeral or not. He'd e-mailed, believing he could sound calmer and more professional, or at least that's what he'd told himself. In reality, he'd been cringing at the thought. He'd been there a month and was already asking for four days off? He'd expected his request to be rejected out of hand but, to his surprise, the response had been there when he'd awakened the next morning, granting him a full week off, with pay.  

"I wanted to thank you," he said now to Gandalf, "for taking a chance on me. I'm in your debt."

His entire family was. It had been a struggle after...everything had happened. They'd needed jobs, and fast, whatever was available that could keep them from losing the last few things they had. Fili had managed to get through college on grants and scholarships, hanging everything on his uncle's conviction that, one day, Arkenstone would rise again. His mother had been against it, having never loved the restaurant to begin with, but Fili had been raised hearing about Arkenstone and his uncle's dreams had quickly become his own.

It was only recently, very recently, that they'd had the luxury to begin thinking about the culinary and restaurant world again. Fili was the first to get a foot through that door, and the hope that had flared to life on his uncle's face upon hearing the news had made every moment of school, and every late night so far at Shire, worth it.

"While I'd like to take credit for it," Gandalf said. "It was Bilba who ultimately took the chance."

"Yes," Fili's eyes flickered toward the kitchen where the silence was beginning to worry him. A working kitchen was no place for someone as exhausted as she clearly was. "In any event, I'm grateful to you both."

"So it would seem." Gandalf's eyes narrowed in contemplation, and then he nodded toward the kitchen. "What do you think of Miss Baggins?"

Fili frowned. "She needs to take better care of herself," he said without hesitation. "She's no good to anyone, least of all herself, if she's near dead on her feet."

Again, a flash of guilt raced through him. Part of the reason he'd been hired was to take the burden off her. He made a mental note to work even harder to make up for the extra load she'd had to take on while he'd been gone.

"She cares deeply for her parent's legacy," Gandalf said. He seemed about to say something else but thought twice about it, and simply gave Fili a slight smile.

Taking the hint, Fili nodded and took his leave, not wanting the man's food to get cold.

He spent the rest of the evening managing the room, speaking to guests and politely ignoring the flirtatious grins of at least three young women. Once the last customer had left he oversaw clean up and closing, before walking several of the female servers out to their cars to ensure they weren't harassed in the parking lot. Security was on his mental list of things Shire could use but he hadn't felt it was his place to suggest it just yet.

Bilba hadn't reappeared since the incident earlier so, after he'd locked the front door, he headed toward the back hallway. The door to the main office was shut but there was a light shining out from underneath.

He hesitated, and then knocked lightly on it. When there was no response, he cleared his throat and said, "I just wanted to thank you for granting my time off request and assure you I don't plan to abuse the privilege. I know you took a chance on hiring me, and I intend to make you happy you did."

He flinched as soon as the words left his mouth. Happy you did? Mahal, could he be anymore cringey? He started to say something else, decided he'd said enough already, and nodded at the closed door. "Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow."

Mentally, he hoped she was in there taking the opportunity to catch up on sleep. He personally doubted it, but one could always hope.

***

On the other side of the door, Bilba stared down forlornly at the glass of wine she'd knocked over when Fili had knocked on the door. She hadn't realized anyone was still there so late, let alone him.

Talk to him, her internal voice had scolded as he spoke. It's not hard. Just open your mouth and say something. Preferably not inane. Or cringey.

That thought unfortunately conjured the memory of before he'd gone on vacation, when she'd managed to spill and entire pot of, thankfully, cold soup that had been on its way to being thrown out. On him. She'd managed to spill it, on him. Then she'd gone back to the larder to get some more...something...and walked in on Fili mid shirt change.

"Sorry," he'd said, with a low swear as she'd stumbled to a stop. "The only other place is the bathroom, and I didn't think patrons seeing the restaurant's maître d changing would be that professional."

Bilba was pretty sure the sight of him without a shirt on would cause a minor health crisis, but it would probably have not been the most professional thing to say.

Her eyes seemed to superglue themselves to his chest and, as much as her mind screamed at her, they were determined to stay just where they were.

Look away, Bilba's voice had screamed at her as her eyes had laser focused on his chest. Look away! Or better yet, leave!

She'd done neither, because she was a walking HR complaint, and he'd cleared his throat and slowly pulled his shirt closed.  

"Do you need something?" he'd asked and it had taken a lot for her not to tell him that, yes, she needed him to take his damn shirt back off.

Bilba groaned as the memory faded, along with Fili's footsteps as he walked away from the closed door.

She was a terrible boss. She wasn't her parents, or her grandparents before them. She had no training in how to run a restaurant, manage payroll, balance books or anything. Gandalf had helped her as he could, but he had his own business to run. He'd recommended she hire a new team after the old one had up and quit but she'd been hesitant to try. She literally knew nothing. If she chose the wrong people, they could literally destroy Shire, run it into the ground, steal it out from under her and she'd never known until it was too late.

Still...she chewed on her lower lip absently.

Gandalf had recommended Fili and, in the short time he'd been there, he'd been a godsend. Okay, he also looked like a god, which was not helping her heartrate or her supplies budget but, really, he'd taken such a massive burden off her just in the jobs he'd taken up.

She'd recognized it all over again in the week he'd been gone. When suddenly it was up to her once more and the full, crushing weight, had fallen back on her. She was so tired from it that she'd started crying on three separate occasions for no reason.

She didn't want to go back to that, wasn't sure how she'd done it for a year, and now she found herself desperately wanting to continue on the track she was on. To have less pressure, less work, more ability to sleep, or relax or enjoy...anything that wasn't work related.

She'd been mulling, just a little, about the rest of the Durin family. She remembered the stories, how one of the Durin children had nearly managed to save Arkenstone, would have in fact, had Smaug not swept in and cut it all out from under them. The whole family had been involved in the business, from childhood in most cases, and if even a fraction of them were as talented as Fili was...

She chewed on her lower lip and then opened her email. She'd hesitated to do it while he was gone at his grandfather's funeral, but perhaps now? She might not be able to talk to the man without tripping over herself, but she could at least email him, right?

Hopefully.

Dear Mr. Durin,

She paused. Was that too formal? It was probably too formal.

Dear Fili --

Nope.

Mr. Durin,

She sighed, deleted the email and closed the laptop lid. If she couldn't even figure out a salutation there was no reason to go any further. She crossed her arms and dropped her head on them with a groan. She was freezing cold in spite of knowing the temperature was perfectly temperate in the building, and she felt ill.

She was exhausted, in over her head, and couldn't even speak to her own damn employee.

God, she was pathetic.  

***

Fili didn't see Bilba when he arrived for work the next day. The light was still on under the office door, however, and he found himself hoping she hadn't been there since the night before. He had no idea how the girl managed to run the restaurant, work a shift and take care of the rest of her day to day life.

Then the memory of the deep bags under her eyes from the night before hit him and he realized the answer to his question of how she did it was probably simple. She didn't.

As he took up his position behind the front desk he snagged the attention of one of the other servers, an older woman named Carla. "Hey, is it true that Bilba ran the desk while I was out?"

She nodded. "She did it before you were hired too and did a fantastic job of it if I may say so. Only hired you because Gandalf convinced her to get someone before she passed out from exhaustion." She sent a concerned look toward the back office. "Girl takes far too much on her own plate. Her parents had a full staff, but she does it all by herself."

Fili frowned. "What happened to the staff?"

Carla huffed in annoyance. "Most refused to work for someone young and inexperienced, a couple others claimed it was too hard to work here without Belladonna and Bungo, as if it were a piece of cake for Bilba to do it." She shook her head. "Assholes, the lot of them."

Fili found he quite agreed. He settled into his role as the doors opened, and fell into an easy rhythm, one that wasn't interrupted until the sound of shattering glass from the bar signified Bilba had left her office.

A hand patted his and he raised an eyebrow at the elderly woman he'd been checking in. She was one of their regulars, coming in almost every day to simply enjoy the company of others. "You know, young man," she said in a voice shaky with age, "you really should do that poor girl a favor and take her out already."

Fili's eyebrow arched higher. "I beg your pardon?"

The woman nodded toward the bar. "Poor thing only gets shaky when you're around, you know." She patted his hand and winked at him from under her hat. "She's a good girl. Not like those hooligans that live across the street from me with their loud music."

She nodded again and wandered past him. Her companion, a man a few years older than Fili's uncle, smiled after her with affection. "Don't mind, Mother. She likes to play matchmaker from time to time is all."

Fili chuckled. "I don't mind at all, Sir. If you'll follow me, I'll take you to your seats."

The man nodded, and Fili led them to their table. As he returned to his desk he hesitated, and then deliberately veered toward the bar where Bilba was picking up a tray. It was ridiculous, he thought. She didn't get nervous simply because --

Bilba glanced up, spotted him and proceeded to drop the drink she'd been picking up. It hit the tray, which caused the other three drink to fall and crash onto the bar, liquid flooding the top and leaking down the sides to the floor below.  

Huh.

***

Bilba sat on a stool at the bar, head resting on her folded arms. She was in that state halfway between being asleep and awake where her body was heavy, and she felt like she had a bad case of the flu. The restaurant had closed a half ago earlier but the thought of trying to go home, or even just to her office to get started on paperwork was excruciating.

An arm slid around her waist suddenly, and she looked up with a frown just in time to see Fili as he slid an arm under her legs and proceeded to lift her straight up off the chair.

Bilba wrapped her arms loosely around his neck without thinking and shook her head in a futile attempt to clear it. She was so damn tired. "What an odd dream," she mumbled. She relaxed against him and shut her eyes again. She was dimly aware of being carried, and then settled into the seat of a car. "Noooo," she whined, reaching out. "I have to do payroll."

He knelt, one hand on the open door and the other on the edge of her seat. "You need sleep. You try to do payroll now and you're likely to pay everyone in Monopoly money."

Bilba giggled at the absurd mental image, and then groaned as her head began to pound. "I feel awful."

"Because you push yourself too hard." He stood up and shut the door. Through slitted eyes, Bilba watched him walk around the front of the car, her car, and slide into the driver's seat.

"Are you kidnapping me?" she asked suspiciously.

He chuckled, a low rumble, and then turned the key in the ignition, sending the engine roaring to life. "I'm taking you home." He grinned at her. "It's my job to ensure everyone has a pleasant experience at Shire, and that includes my boss."

Bilba grumbled and sank back into the seat, noting absently he'd somehow managed to buckle her in without her noticing. "I'm a sucky boss."

To her horror, her vision blurred, and she shook her head, trying to dispel them the threatening tears. She wasn't usually a crier. It's just a dream, she told herself. Figures she'd managed to screw things up with him in a dream.

"You're not screwing anything up," Fili said as they pulled onto the road. "You're too hard on yourself."

Bilba frowned at him. "Since when can you read minds?"

He chuckled. "You're talking out loud."

"I am not," Bilba grumbled. She sagged back in her seat. "I don't even know how to do payroll."

Fili's eyes flickered toward her, surprised. "Then how have you been doing it so far?"

"Google." Bilba raised a hand to wave through the air. "Google knows all."

"That it does." Fili focused on the road for a few minutes. "I might know someone who could help you in that."

"I'm sure you do." Bilba tried to focus on the road in front of them but it shifted in and out of focus. "I don't know anything about restaurants," she blurted. A few tears escaped on their own and she lifted a hand to wipe them away. She felt cold and shaky and, god, but she just wanted to sleep. "I'm such a screw up."

Fili grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "You are not a screw up. A screw up wouldn't be able to keep a restaurant like Shire running for as long as you have, knowing as little about the business as you do. You're just overwhelmed."

The walls of her gated community came into view and Bilba wondered idly how he'd known where she lived.

They pulled up to the gate, and a light shined on them as the guard inside stepped closer.

"Miss Baggins, are you all right?"

"Hi Bard," Bilba managed to mutter. This dream just kept getting weirder. She tried to curl up against the door, but it was next to impossible to get into a comfortable position and, damn it all if that didn't make her want to cry all over again. "I wanna go home now."

She heard a quiet conversation between Bard and Fili and then the guard opened the back door and slid into her car. Apparently, in this dream, she was collecting people like lost puppies.

She heard Fili laugh again but tuned it out in favor of dozing. She was vaguely aware of the car stopping, and then of being carried again. Her house alarm beeped and, when Fili set her on her feet and supported her, she hazily punched in the code to turn it off.

Then she was being carried again and then, blessedly, the sheets of her very own bed were under her. She felt her shoes being tugged off, and then the blankets were drawn over her.

She was sound asleep before they had fully settled.

***

Fili wordlessly followed the guard downstairs again, reset Bilba's alarm and then followed the other man out, locking the door and pulling it closed behind him.

He and Bard walked in silence back to the gatehouse and then Fili headed to the sidewalk just outside the gate pulling his phone out as he did. He dialed, and bit back a grin as a gruff voice answered. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"That I do," Fili leaned against the stone wall, bracing one foot behind him and shoving his free hand into his jacket pocket. "I need a ride."

"Why?" his uncle asked, already sounding more awake. "What happened to your car?"

"I had to give my boss a ride home," Fili answered. "I left my car back at Shire."

"Your boss?" Thorin questioned. "This the one you won't shut up about?"

Fili rolled his eyes. "You know she's trying to run Shire completely by herself?"

"She's insane then?" Thorin asked. "Your mother will be thrilled."

"She's not insane," Fili said, defensively. "She's just in over her head. Anyway, I think she might be open to hiring some more people. You know, people with actual restaurant experience. Managerial, bookkeeping, so forth."

"You talk to her about it?" Thorin asked.

As he did, Fili heard him grunt and swear under his breath as he struggled to get dressed and, most likely, find his shoes. He was always throwing them every which way and taking forever to locate them again. After a minute the phone call cut off entirely as his uncle hung up in frustration. Fili slid the phone into his pocket and leaned back against the wall to wait for the other man to arrive.

"No, he whispered, to no one in particular. "I haven't talked to her about it."

Not yet anyway, but he planned too. Maybe tomorrow, over a cup of coffee if she was willing.

Plastic cups of coffee.

Definitely plastic, and with a lid.

[cocastyle]

I’m A Big Girl Now

Pairing - Steve Rogers x daughter!reader, Peter Parker x reader

Word Count - 8,087

Warning - none

Prompt - (request by @GamingSkeleton on Wattpad) Tony/Steve x Reader (u can pick). The song from Hairspray "Mama I'm a big girl now." Can you make it a father daughter where it flips between the past and the present showing how you have changed completely from a shy little girl to a badass rebellious teen.

A/N - I got my first request recently from @GamingSkeleton !! thank you so much for requesting! I take requests at any time, so if you all have any ideas, just message me or comment on this story! flashbacks are in italics, regular is the present, and bold are the lyrics to the song! also, got a little carried away with this one because I just loved the idea!!

Y/N had a problem. Being the daughter of Captain America himself, one wouldn't think she would have problems, right? After all, she should be a part of the Avengers and help save the world alongside her father. She shouldn't have time for problems, right Wrong. So wrong.

You see, Steve Rogers may be the Captain America, but that didn't stop him from fearing that something was going to happen to his little girl at any moment. That fear was what controlled his life and, unfortunately, Y/N's life. But all Y/N wanted was to help save the world and be just like her father. And this. . .well, this is the story of how she finally got to do that.

- - -

Y/N rushed out of her room, hopping on one leg as she tried to tie her combat boot on her way towards the door. She could see Tony, Natasha, Thor, and her father all standing by the door, no doubt talking about some last minute things before heading out for the mission. The other Avengers were all loaded up in the quinjet outside which meant they would be leaving at any moment. Y/N had just made it to the door when Tony, Natasha, and Thor walked out. She saw her father about to walk out as well and was quick to run over and slip in front of him, one foot out the door as she was ready to sprint to the quinjet.

Steve must've been expecting her because he was quick to grab her arm and pull her back. "Stop!" He exclaimed making Y/N frown and turn to her father in annoyance.

Stop telling me what to do

Steve was staring at Y/N in exasperation as he ran a hand through his blonde hair. "What are you doing?" He asked. "I want to come with this time," Y/N told him, the smile on her face one that made Steve's heart melt. It broke him to know he was going to be the reason it disappeared. He watched as her eyes flickered down to the shield that was lying against the wall and she smiled and picked it up before mockingly holding his shield like he always did. "Imagine it. The two of us working side by side! You taught me how to throw this thing, so just imagine if I-" she trailed off as she pretended to throw the shield. Steve gritted his teeth and quickly grabbed the shield and took it from her as he exclaimed, "Don't!”

Don't treat me like a child of two

Y/N fell silent and looked to her father with a pleading smile. "Please?" Y/N asked. "Y/N, we've been over this hundreds of times. You're not coming and that's final," Steve told her. “I can help!" Y/N argued, her jaw setting as her anger started to take control. "You're not going," Steve insisted. "But Dad-" "No!"

I know that you want what's best-

"Dad," Y/N pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked at him with big eyes. This was all she ever wanted, to be able to fight with them. Steve knew that. So why couldn't he let her do it just this once? She wasn't a little kid anymore. She could protect herself. “Is this because you think I'm too young? Cause Peter is my age and he gets to go on missions!" Y/N said. "It's different for you," Steve told her, trying to keep his voice steady. He had to leave and Y/N was only making him angry before the mission.

Y/N scoffed and crossed her arms as she looked at her father in pure hatred. "How is that even fair?" She asked. Steve noticed Tony pop his head into view from behind Y/N and he tapped his watch to tell Steve to hurry up. The super soldier sighed and ran a hand through his hair before looking back up at his daughter. "Please," Steve whispered. "I just. . .I've got to go. We can talk more when I get back." His eyes flickered over his daughter's face as if he were trying to memorize her which maybe he was. There always was the possibility that he couldn't come back from a mission and the two both knew that.

"I love you," Steve told her as he went to hug his daughter, but Y/N, so filled with anger and totally fed up with the situation, shoved her father away with a scoff before storming back into the compound, leaving her father behind.

But mother, please. . .

Give it a rest!

Y/N's fists hit the punching bag with a satisfying whack as she furiously threw punch after punch. She had worked up a sweat by now from having spent the last two hours in the training room while everyone else was out on the mission. Mockingly, Y/N held up a fist and rolled her eyes as she said, "Stop! Don't! No! Please!"

She was so fed up with her father. She was seventeen for crying out loud and in less than a month she would be an adult. Steve had taught her everything she knew, so how come she couldn't go on missions with him? “Stop! Don't! No! Please!" Y/N muttered in anger as she threw a punch with each word. Her anger was getting the best of her and she was punching harder and harder, the punching bag shaking violently as she did so.

"Stop! Don't! No! Please!" Y/N cried as she threw one last punch at the bag, instantly knocking it off of the chain and sending it flying across the room. The girl stood there in shock for a moment as her anger finally seemed to dissolve. It was in that moment that she realized that she definitely wasn't the little girl her father thought she was. In fact, she was quiet the opposite.

A smirk appeared on Y/N's face and she cracked her fingers before going over to grab her water bottle and walking out of the training room. She was done sitting around doing whatever her father told her to do. It was her time to shine and she was going to shine brighter than any of the stars in the sky that was for sure.

Mama, I'm a big girl now!

Once upon a time when I was just a kid

You never let me do just what the older kids did

It was just another normal day for Steve Rogers and his four year old daughter, Y/N. As usual, the shy young girl clung onto her father's hand and made sure to keep her body so close to his leg that he almost tripped over her a few times. Steve was used to this by now seeing as Y/N was just a shy little thing, so the moment he suddenly realized his daughter wasn't clutching his hand anymore was the moment he knew what true panic felt like.

Luckily for him, Y/N was still the same timid young girl he had raised, so she hadn't gone too far. Instead, she was standing just a few feet behind him staring through the window of a karate building they had just walked past on their way from the park to the tower.

"Y/N," Steve called out, but the girl was so mesmerized by the flying kicks and the way the group of kids inside the dojo all seemed to move in unison that she didn't hear her father. Steve smiled softly and walked over to where the young h/c girl was standing. Her nose was barely pressed up against the glass to the point where there was only a tiny bit of pressure and her breath was only partially fogging up the window.

"Sweetheart, come on," Steve said. Y/N finally blinked back to reality and glanced at her father before pointing through the windows. "Want," she whispered. Steve looked through the windows at the little karate kids and winced at the thought of his daughter learning how to do such violent things before shaking his head and saying, "You don't want to do that, Y/N. Trust me."

In reality, he wasn't ready for her to do something like that. All he had ever been doing since the day Y/N was born was work to make sure she never had to worry about her own safety or even about having to protect herself. Sure, he still planned on teaching her basic self-defense, but, in his eyes, Y/N had him and the other Avengers to protect her from the scariness and harshness of the world.

"But-" Y/N whined. "Trust me, Y/N. You do trust your old man, right?" Steve asked, hating to have to pull that card, but wanting the conversation to end before the girl threw a fit.

Y/N frowned and nodded her head. "Yes," she whispered. "That's my girl. Besides, you've got me and some very gifted aunts and uncles to protect you. You shouldn't have to worry about learning to fight just yet," Steve told her. Y/N frowned more but nodded. Steve smiled down at his daughter before holding a hand out for her. The girl took it before Steve began to drag her down the street and away from the dojo.

So lose that laundry list of what you won't allow. . .

'Cause Mama, I'm a big girl now!

"You sure you want to do this?" Peter Parker asked the young Rogers with the corner of his mouth twitching up. Y/N smirked and cracked her neck before holding her fists up. "Quit stalling and start fighting, Parker," Y/N retorted.

Peter feigned a look of shock and went to open his mouth, but Y/N raised an eyebrow as if to say that, if he talked, he would be proving her point. The boy chuckled softly and ducked his head slightly as a smile appeared on his face. For just a moment, Y/N felt her guard fall down as she watched the boy laugh, her heart skipping a beat at the sight. But then Peter was suddenly throwing a fist at her face and Y/N snapped back to reality before ducking and elbowing the boy in the side.

Peter groaned in surprise, but that was all he did before he threw another punch at her. Y/N dodged it again before the two began to spar, each one getting a hit in every once in a while while deflecting or dodging the rest. The two were so caught up in the sparing that they didn't realize how long they were going until the sweat had started to get into their eyes. Then, before either knew what was happening, Peter and swiped his leg out before knocking Y/N to the ground.

He had her pinned down within seconds and smirked as he looked down at her. It was then that the two realized just how close they were and both blushed softly as Peter whispered, "I think it's safe to say I won." "Oh really?" Y/N asked as she raised an eyebrow. She elbowed Peter in the gut, catching him by surprise, before flipping the two over so that she was straddling him. She held her arm against his neck and smiled at him, their faces only inches apart. "Want to rethink that statement?"

Peter chuckled softly and leaned his head back against the mat as he let out a heavy breath of relief. "You win," Peter assured her making the girl holler in victory. The young boy rolled his eyes before propping himself up on his elbows. This caused the two to have their faces a lot closer than before.

Peter's eyes widened when he realized what he had just done and he stared at Y/N in shock as their noses brushed against each other. "I-" Peter began, but his words fell short as his mouth awkwardly hung open. Y/N stared back at him with big e/c eyes and he was instantly mesmerized.

He didn't even think twice as his hand came up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, an action that had her cheeks turning a light pink. Peter's nose brushed against Y/N's a little more and he began to inch in ever so slightly.

“What is going on?"

The two had never moved so fast, both jumping away from each other as if the other had the plague. Peter and Y/N made sure to keep a good five feet's between the two before looking over at the doorway where Steve was standing with his hands on his hips. “What do you two think you are doing?" Steve asked, his voice slightly raised as he glared at the two. His glare was mostly aimed at Peter while the look he gave Y/N was more of a questioning one.

"Nothing was happening, Dad. We were just sparing is all," Y/N muttered nonchalantly as she walked over to where her things were. She picked up her water bottle and began to drink from it as she looked to her father who had his eyebrows raised.

"Sparing? And whose bright idea was that? You know you're not supposed to be sparing anyone. It's too dangerous," Steve pointed out. He pointed a finger at Peter before saying, "Peter, was this your idea? It was, wasn't it? How many times have I told you to stay away from my daughter, huh? I-"

"It was my idea."

Steve blinked in surprise before whirling around to look at his daughter who was standing there looking both bored and pissed at the same time. "I'm sorry, what?" Steve asked. "I misheard you right? I mean, why would my daughter do something that I have specifically told her countless of times not to do?"

"I wanted to spar and I asked Peter since he was around. He was being nice and said yes," Y/N explained with a shrug as if it should've been no big deal. This only seemed to anger Steve further while Peter silently snickered begins him.

Steve stared at his daughter in surprise while she blankly stared back at him. "You know how dangerous this is," Steve said, his voice stern as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. Y/N rolled her eyes and let the hand with the water bottle fall to her side. "Sorry to disappoint, Dad, but I'm not a little girl anymore. You can't protect me forever," she said before turning on her heels and walking out of the room, leaving her father to stare after her in surprise.

Peter winced at what had just happened and began to slowly back away from the angered super soldier. "Not you, Parker. We need to talk," Steve said. "I really wish I could, Mr. Captain America, but I really got to. . .I got this thing with the. . ." Peter trailed off and stared at Steve for a moment before suddenly bolting towards the door and out of the room.

Steve wasn't in the mood to chase after him, so he merely let out a sigh and put a hand to his forehead. He had more important things to worry about anyways. Like how his sweet little girl was suddenly acting very differently ever since the mission a month ago. It was like he didn't even recognize her. She was becoming risky, rebellious. . .something he never thought he would see from her. So what did that mean for him? Was his little girl really gone?

Once upon a time I used to play with toys

But now I'd rather play around with teenage boys

So if I get a hickey, please don't have a cow!

'Cause Mama, I'm a big girl now!

"Y/N, be careful!" Steve yelled out before letting out a soft sigh as he watched his daughter sprint for the playground where at least a dozen other kids were running around. "Calm down, Capsicle. It's just a playground," a voice said as a hand was placed on his shoulder.

The super soldier glanced over at Tony Stark who was smirking at him. Steve rolled his eyes and sat down on a bench on the outskirts of the playground as he kept his gaze trained on Y/N.

"Cap," Tony said making the blond's blue eyes flicker over to him. "Relax. She's just being a kid. No need to worry so much." "You don't get it, Tony. She's my kid. She's my kid. Everything she does gives me a heart attack," Steve told him.

"It shouldn't is my point. You should be enjoying the time you have with her, not worrying about her every move. If my father had been half as worried as you are, he would've had too many heart attacks to count," Tony chuckled.

Steve let out a small laugh at that and his shoulders started to relax for the first time that day which made Tony smile and slap his shoulder. "See? There's that laugh of yours. You got to lighten up a bit. Being a father to that kid of yours is probably going to be one of the greatest things you are ever going to do. Don't waste that time, okay?" Tony whispered.

The super soldier sighed and opened his mouth to agree with Tony when he suddenly caught sight of something that had him stumbling out of his seat. "Y/N M/N Rogers!" Steve practically screeched as he ran over to the tall castle int he middle of the playground where his daughter and a little boy were currently hanging off of the top of.

Y/N's eyes lit up at the sight of her father and she gave him a childish grin. "Daddy! Look at me! I'm upside down! Or are you upside down?" Y/N giggled at that and so did the boy hanging upside down with her.

Upon hearing the boy's laugh, Y/N's face lit up even more and she pointed excitedly at the boy. "Daddy, this is Peter! He taught me how to do this. Isn't it so cool!" Y/N exclaimed. "Want to see something else cool?"

"Not really," Steve muttered to himself. "Y/N, honey, get down right now. It's not safe up there."

"I'm fine!" Y/N assured him as she pulled herself up onto her feet. She smiled and looked down at Peter before saying, "Watch this!" She then went to jump, but as she did, her father cried out, "Y/N, no!"

This caused the young girl to jump back in fright before she slipped and fell off the roof of the castle and onto the ground. Steve's eyes widened in panic and he dashed over to the girl while Tony finally began to come up behind them.

"Y/N!" Steve cried out as he slid onto his knees next to her. "Sweetheart, are you okay?" Y/N let out a small whimper as she sat up and wiped the mulch from her jacket. She had a few scraps on her hands and knees and a scratch on her face, but other than that she seemed to be okay. "I'm fine," Y/N said a little too aggressively, startling Steve, but he pushed it aside as her being in pain.

"Y/N, are you okay?" a small voice asked as the little boy, Peter, jumped off of the top of the castle and landed on his feet. "I'm okay," Y/N whispered in a small voice while Peter watched her worriedly. "I'm sorry, Mister. It's all my fault. I was the one that brought her up there," Peter muttered as he looked to Steve and then down at his feet.

"Oh my gosh! Peter!" a voice exclaimed before a woman came rushing over to them. The woman's eyes were frantically looking over the whole situation and she looked to Steve apologetic. "I'm so sorry. I've told him a hundred times not to go up there and probably a hundred more not to bring anyone up there," the woman rushed out.

"It's okay," Steve told her despite not really being okay with what happened. Not wanting to dwell on it any longer, Steve scooped Y/N up on his arms and nodded over at Peter and the woman. "I think it's time Y/N and I head home. It was nice meeting you two," he said. He didn't even wait for a response before he began walking away.

"Bye, Y/N!" Peter cried out. Y/N looked over her father's shoulder and sent the boy a small smile as she waved at him. "Bye, Peter!" She yelled back.

As soon as she had turned back around, she caught sight of Tony who was standing off to the side and waved at him. "Uncle Tony! Did you see what I just did?" Y/N asked. "What? The hanging or the falling?" Tony asked. "The hanging," Y/N giggled. "Yeah, I saw it. Pretty impressive, but probably not the best thing to be doing," Tony told her.

Y/N frowned and went to respond, but her father was putting her down on the bench and was reaching into the small backpack he had brought with them that was full of Y/N's things and a small first aid kit. He was silent as he began working to clean up his daughter and Y/N watched him with big round eyes as he worked.

"You can't be doing stuff like that," Steve finally told her, his blue eyes flickering up to lock with her own. Y/N frowned and looked down at her shoes while Steve moved his head so that she was still looking at him. "What do I always tell you?" He asked. "Staying away from the dangerous things means that I stay safe," Y/N whispered sadly. Steve sighed and brushed some of the hair from his daughter's face before whispering, "I know it's hard, but it's for the best. You're the most important thing in my life, Y/N. All I want to do is protect you."

Y/N sighed before giving her father a small smile. "I love you, Daddy," she told him, knowing that everything he did was for her. Steve smiled back and kissed her forehead before whispering, "I love you too, squirt."

Ma, I gotta tell you that without a doubt I got my best dancing lessons from you

You're the one who taught me how to twist and shout because you shout non-stop and you're so twisted too!

Woah oh oh oh oh. . .

The door to the compound came flying open as soon as the Avengers arrived home from their mission. The first one through the door was Y/N Rogers, the girl who wasn't even supposed to be on the mission. The second person through? Steve Rogers, the father of the girl who wasn't supposed to be on the mission. Correction—the pissed off father of the girl who wasn't supposed to be on the mission.

"What was that?" Steve yelled out as he hurried after Y/N. "Y/N M/N Rogers! What the hell was that?" Y/N gritted her teeth and spun around to face her father who instantly stopped once he saw that she wasn't storming around anymore. "That was called me doing more than just sitting around waiting for you to come home. That was called saving your ass!" Y/N spat.

"Oh, so that's what that was? Cause it looked like all that happened was you got too egotistic for your own good and decided to come on a mission that I told you not to. And look what happened? You almost got hurt and I had to save you. So who saved whose ass now?" Steve asked angrily, his face turning red as he crossed his arms. “If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have been put in that situation!" Y/N cried out. Steve opened his mouth, but Y/N was quick to point a finger at him and cut him off. "I can handle myself, thank you very much!"

"Obviously not. I don't know what has gotten into you, but this behavior of yours is unacceptable," Steve told her, his voice lowering to an eerily calm level that Y/N didn't notice. "My behavior? Let's talk about your behavior, shall we? You treat me like I'm still your little girl, like I'm going to break if the wind so much as blows in my direction. Well guess what, Dad? I'm not your little girl anymore!" Y/N cried out, tears streaming down her face from how upset and angry she was.

Steve was silently seething with anger and he gritted his teeth so hard that his next words came through his gritted teeth, "Go to your room. You're grounded." Y/N scoffed and rolled her eyes, but listened to her father and stormed past him and towards her room, making sure to bump him in the shoulder on the way out.

Once I used to fidget 'cause I just sat home

But now I'm just like Gidget and I gotta get to Rome!

So say "Arrivederci!"

"Toodle-loo!"

And "Ciao!"

Y/N yawned as she made her way towards the training room. She gently swung her water bottle in her hand as she walked, already bored out of her mind since everyone else was out on a mission while she was stuck at home. She hadn't spoken a word to her father since their argument a few days before, but she hadn't wanted to push his buttons any further at the moment, so she had decided to stay home for this mission to let the storm they had created pass by.

A small smile graced her lips once she reached the training room door and she pressed a few buttons on the screen and went to open the door, but sees light flashed on the screen signaling that her access was being denied. Y/N frowned and pressed tried again only for the screen to flash red.

'Cause Mama, I'm a big girl now!

Y/N's frowned deepened and she called out, "F.R.I.D.A.Y., what's wrong with the door?" "It appears that Captain Rogers has asked Mr. Stark to take you off the access list. Y/N Rogers is not allowed in the training room at this time," F.R.I.D.A.Y. said.

Stop! Don't! No!

Please!

"What?" Y/N asked angrily, her hands balling into fists as her face turned a little red just from anger. First her father doesn't let her go on missions and now he's not even letting her train?

Stop! Don't! No!

Please!

Y/N smirked and cracked her knuckles. "Two can play at this game, Old Man," Y/N muttered under her breath before walking off to Tony's lab and stealing some tools.

Stop! Don't! No!

Please! Mama, I'm a big girl now!

The door to the training room fell to the ground was a satisfying clang making Y/N smirk as she stood back up. She carelessly tossed the screwdriver she had been holding back into the toolbox before walking into the training room with a skip in her step.

Hey Mama, Say Mama-

"Y/N, come on," Steve said as he looked back over his shoulder at the small girl who was hiding behind a potted plant in the lobby of the Avengers compound. The blind smiled and held a hand out for his daughter before saying, "They're going to love you."

Y/N smiled softly and was quick to rush across the floor and over to her father before patching onto his hand and digging her face into his leg. Steve chuckled and began to slowly walk towards the elevator while Y/N trudged along beside him.

It took a few minutes, but the two eventually made it into the elevator and up to the top floor where the Avengers were all waiting to meet Y/N Rogers for the first time. Steve has always been pretty secretive about his home life, so when Y/N had called him from the babysitter's home one night only for Bruce to pick up the call, Steve knew he couldn't hide her from them any longer which is why today was happening.

The doors to the elevator dinged open and Y/N's eyes widened as a whole room of people all turned to look at the two. She glanced up at her father who walked forward and clasped hands with a guy that Y/N had seen on tv flying around in a red and gold suit.

The adults all began talking, but Y/N was half paying attention. It was only when they all turned to her and Steve called out her name that she finally snapped back to reality. Her face instantly reddened and she hurried over to her father before hiding behind his leg and shyly peaking out from behind. The Avengers all chuckled and Natasha smiled at Steve before looking down at Y/N and saying, "She's a shy little thing, isn't she?"

"Yeah," Steve chuckled as he ruffled his daughter's hair, "she's my little girl." "Savor it," Clint told him. "She won't always be." Tony, Natasha, Bruce, and Thor all nodded in agreement and began rambling on about something, but Steve was looking at the ground with a small frown on his face. He knew Y/N wasn't going to be his little girl forever, but the thought of her, one day, not needing him was hard for him to think about.

A small squeeze on his leg had him looking down to see Y/N smiling up at him softly. He smiled back before silently telling himself that she may not be his little girl forever, but that didn't mean he couldn't try.

Once upon a time I was a shy young thing

Could barely walk and talk so much as dance and sing

But let me hit that stage, I wanna take my bow

'Cause Mama I'm a big girl now!

"You have got to be kidding me," Steve muttered as he looked at his daughter with his hands on his hips. Y/N looked up from where she was reading her book on her bed and gave him a confused look. "Hello to you too?" She said. "Please tell me you didn't actually break one of Tony's expensive doors just so you could train," Steve whispered as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "So what if I did? You do know Tony is rich, right?" Y/N asked.

"That's not the point!" Steve exclaimed. "It's not my fault that you don't believe in me!" Y/N said in a raised voice. "Of course I believe in you! I just don't think you training and going on missions with us is a good idea," Steve told her angrily. Y/N let out a fake laugh ad she slammed her book shut and got up onto her feet. She tossed her book onto her bed before crossing her arms and walking over to her father. "You can't say anything to me! When you were my age you joined the freaking military! You even signed up to become a super soldier! And guess what? You had all these medical conditions that should've prevented you from doing any of that, but you did t anyways! If you can fight with all of that going on, then why can't I?" Y/N asked, her breathing heavy as her eyes sparkled with tears.

Steve was silent for a moment and his shoulders slumped slightly before he muttered, "It's not the same thing." Y/N scoffed before shoving past her father and walking out of the room. Steve sighed and followed after her, watching as she picked up the keys to his motorcycle before heading towards the front door.

"Where are you going?" Steve asked in exasperation. "Out," Y/N spat before slamming the front door behind her. The sound of his motorcycle reviving to life should've had him running out after her, but Steve didn't even try to stop her and just stood there listening to the engine until it was so distant it was gone.

Woah, once upon a time I used to dress up Ken

But now that I'm a woman, I like bigger men

And I don't need a Barbie doll to show me how

'Cause Mama, I'm a big girl now!

Peter was zoned out as he watched Y/N pace around his room. Her hands were in her hair and she was ranting about the ongoing fight with her father, but Peter was too entranced with the person that was Y/N Rogers to be able to pay attention. He only nodded every once in a while in response while his eyes continued to follow her back and forth and a small smile graced his lips. "You're beautiful," Peter muttered causing Y/N to stop and look at him in surprise.

"What?" Y/N asked. Peter's eyes widened and his face turned pink as he repeated, "What?" Y/N chuckled and smiled softly at Peter before asking, "Are you even listening?" "Partially," Peter replied honestly. "You kind of keep repeating the same things though."

Y/N sighed in frustration and fell face first onto Peter's bed before she dug her face into his side. Peter chuckled and wrapped his arms around the girl before saying, "The best thing you can probably do is prove your father wrong." "And how exactly can I do that?" Y/N asked as she propped herself up with her elbows.

Peter blushed slightly at their close proximity before subcontinent brushing some of Y/N's hair behind her ear as he talked. "We didn't exactly complete the mission from today, so we have to go back out again tomorrow and check out this other base. We leave in the morning, so you should just get up and tag along with us," Peter told her.

Y/N smiled at those words before leaning forward and kissing Peter's cheek instantly making him blush. "You are brilliant," Y/N told him before she reached out and took his hands in her own. She was silent as she played with his hands for a moment before she asked, "Would you want to go see the new Star Wars movie tonight? I know you've been wanting to see it and it's only a little after seven so we still have time before your curfew."

Peter's mind went blank for a second before he finally managed to stutter out, "Li-like. . .like a date?" Y/N chuckled and nodded her head. "Yeah, like a date," she whispered. Peter blushed even more before smiling and leaning up to kiss the corner of her mouth, this time making Y/N blink in surprise and blush. "I'd love to," Peter said before he sat up and quickly began to pull his shoes on.

Y/N blinked again to get out of her daze before looking over at Peter and smiling. Even if things weren't going well with her father, at least she had one thing good in her life.

Ma, you always taught me what was right from wrong

And now I just wanna give it a try

Mama, I've been in the nest for far too long

So please give a push and mama watch me fly. . .

To say that Steve wasn't happy when he saw Y/N on the quinjet the morning of the mission was an understatement. He was so angry that he swore he could see red and the fact that she was sitting across from Peter (who she was holding hands with) wasn't making it any better. Y/N, what do you think you are doing?" Steve began to say, but Tony was quick to step in front of him and stop him.

"Cap, I need you to calm down, okay? We couldn't do this yesterday, so who knows, she might be able to help," Tony told him. Steve frowned and went to reply, but Tony gave him a soft knowing smile and said, "She'll be okay."

Steve went silent and angrily brushed Tony away as he walked over to the side of the quinjet. He then leaned against the side and was quiet as the rest of the team packed up their stuff. Y/N kept her back to her father, not wanting to look at him and see the disappointment and anger in his face, so when Peter squeezed her hand in comfort, all she managed to do was squeeze back.

Watch me fly!

"Spider-Man, watch out!" Y/N cried out as three men began to shoot at her newly proclaimed boyfriend who was busy fighting a member of the gang they were fighting. Peter turned his head and quickly jumped out of the way before landing next to Y/N and letting out a sigh of relief. "Thanks," he whispered. "Don't die. You're too cute to die," Y/N told him. She didn't have to see him to know that he blushed.

She didn't get a chance to hear Peter respond because she saw two men sneaking up on them and was quick to respond. In a matter of seconds, Y/N had turned and used some of the moves she had learned from Natasha in order to take the two men down and render them unconscious and weaponless.

Y/N had been doing great so far on the mission, much better than any of them could've imagined. She had taken down at least half of the men single handedly and most of them hadn't even known she was coming before they were suddenly on the ground. The only person who hadn't seemed to see any of this was Steve who was too busy avoiding Y/N to watch what she was doing or see what she had accomplished.

In all honesty, Y/N hadn't been looking for her father either and she probably wouldn't have noticed him if it weren't for the fact that as soon as she had taken down one of the soldiers, he had fallen to reveal her father fighting three men a little ways away. She scowled when she saw that one of the men had taken his shield and that they were pining him on the ground.

Before she knew it, Y/N had sprinted over to the action and swung her leg under their feet so that all three of the men fell. She took the opportunity to grab her father's shield and used it to whack each of the men in the head so that they fell down unconscious.

Steve watched the girl with wide eyes, but she didn't even spare him a glance as she ran by him and over to where the last of the soldiers were filing in. He watched as she spun, kicked, punched, and whacked the soldiers with his shield until every single one of them was down.

He almost couldn't believe his eyes, but Y/N wasn't even fazed. She merely walked over to where Steve was lying down and looked down at him. She was silent as she lifted her hand up to her face to wipe the blood from the corner of her mouth before she tossed his shield on the ground next to him. "You're welcome," was all she said before she was walking away, leaving Steve to stare after his 'little girl.'

Someday I will meet a man you won't condemn-

And we will have some kids and you can torture them-

But let me be a star before I take that vow

'Cause Mama, I'm a big girl now. . .

Woah oh, oh oh oh!

"I should leave soon," Peter muttered, his eyes closed as he held Y/N close to his chest. Y/N shook her head and dug her face into the crook of his neck as she whispered, "Please, don't." Peter chuckled and lifted one eye open so that he could kiss her head before he laid back down and whispered, "You're lucky I like you so much."

Y/N smiled warmly at that and was about to let her drowsiness take over when there was a knock on the door. Neither of the teens moved and, instead, Y/N just groaned and yelled out, "Who is it?"

"It's Dad."

That had the two suddenly sitting up with their eyes wide open. They were quick to pull away and Peter looked to Y/N with wide eyes. "Your father?" he whisper yelled so that Steve couldn't hear him. "It's okay. He shouldn't be surprised that you're here, Pete. It's the Avengers compound and you are an Avenger," Y/N told him. Peter nodded and relaxed slightly, although the thought of the Captain America seeing him cuddling with his daughter made him panic again.

Y/N stood up and went over to the door before opening it up, Peter watching silently from the bed behind her. Steve looked at his daughter before glancing back at Peter and then back at Y/N. He looked uncomfortable standing there and Y/N sighed before saying, "Peter, can you give us a minute?"

"Yeah, of course," Peter said as he quickly got up and began to scurry out of her room. He paused in the doorway to look at Steve and gave him a small nod, "Mr. Captain America, sir." Steve surprisingly gave him a soft smile and said, "Peter, I've told you a hundred times to just call me Steve."

"Sorry, Mr. Captain America. It won't happen again," Peter muttered before he winced at his words and quickly rushed out of the room. Y/N chuckled softly and shook her head at her boyfriend, but her laughter fell quiet once she looked back up at her father. She turned without a word and walked into her room which Steve took as a sign to follow her.

He walked in after her and watched as Y/N took a seat on her bed before looking up at him. For a moment, he swore he saw a smaller version of the girl, the shyer version of herself. But it was instantly replaced with the girl who he realized in that moment was anything but the shy little girl he thought she was.

She was a woman now and Steve. . .he was finally realizing it.

Mama, I'm a big girl now. . .

Hey, hey, hey!

Steve shuffled slightly in place as he tried to think of where to start. It took him a minute and he could tell Y/N was getting bored, so he eventually stopped fidgeting and took a deep breath before just flat out saying it.

"I'm sorry."

Y/N blinked in surprise and relaxed slightly as she looked up at her father, waiting for him to go on. "The way I've been treating you hadn't been the best. It's just. . .you've always been my little girl and I guess a part of me wasn't ready to just let that go. But seeing you fight out there today—correction, seeing you kick some ass out there today, it made me realize that you don't really need my protecting anymore. You've grown up and I see that now and I'm sorry for not seeing it sooner," Steve rambled.

Y/N was silent for a minute as she tried to process his words, but before he knew it she was smiling and jumping into his arms for a hug. "I'll always be your little girl, Dad. Just not the little girl you're used to. And for the whole not needing you to protect me anymore, I'm always going to need you. You're my dad after all. Just never and I mean never underestimate me again," Y/N said as she pointed a finger at him.

Steve chuckled and nodded before whispering, "You got it, squirt." He then rested his head on top of her own as he hugged her tightly, both of them enjoying the small embrace that they didn't have as often anymore.

"Okay, so are we going to talk about this whole Peter thing? Do we need to establish rules?"

"Dad!"

Mama, I'm a big girl-

Such a big, big girl!

I'm a big girl now!

"This is my dad," a young Y/N Rogers announced as she held up a big picture of her on her father's shoulders. The class full of students all went wide eyed when they realized just who it was that was her father and Y/N smiled proudly.

"My dad has probably the coolest job in the universe because he is Captain America and a part of the Avengers. He helps the other superheroes save the world and even helped to stop World War II which happened over seventy years ago! I guess you can say he's been saving the world for over seventy years!" Y/N exclaimed happily.

"Why I chose this picture for show and tell is because my dad is out saving the world right now so I couldn't exactly bring him. I wanted to bring the Hulk, but Uncle Tony said it wasn't the best idea so that's how I ended up with this picture."

"My dad is the most important thing in my life. I love him more than ice cream which is saying a lot because I really love ice cream. He's my best friend, my father, and my hero."

The shy Y/N Rogers looked at the picture and took in a deep breath once she felt her nerves start to take over. Seeing that picture of her father smiling up at her on his shoulders was enough to make her calm down and she looked to her classmates with a small smile on her face.

"I only hope I'll be able to be as great as he is one day."

Stop! Don't! No. . . Please!

Stop! Don't! No. . .Please!

Stop! Don't! No. . .Please!

When Y/N was younger, she used to always tell Steve that she wanted to be like him when she grew up. Of course he had always told her to be herself and to also stay out of danger, but that hadn't stopped her from wanting nothing more than to be like him and he knew it.

So watching Y/N walking off the quinjet with rest of the team with a big smile on her face made his heart swell. This was what she wanted and the amount of happiness on her face was enough to prove that.

"Cap, what's the plan?" Natasha asked as she glanced to the blond. Steve opened his mouth to respond, but then his eyes fell on Y/N who was watching him with a small smile on her face and adoration in her eyes. His mouth closed and he smiled before holding out his shield to the girl. "Actually, I was thinking we could let Y/N take the reigns on this one," Steve said making the young girl stare at him with wide eyes before she looked to her boyfriend in disbelief.

Y/N gently took the shield from her father while the other Avengers all cheered. Thor clapped the young girl on the back and she grinned before mourning a thanks to her father. Steve just winked at her and she began to tell the team what the plan was.

After she mentioned that her and Steve would be pairing off together, Steve found himself zoning out. He was too busy watching his daughter with pride in his eyes, not being able to stop himself from thinking about how proud he was of her.

Y/N may have wanted to be as great as him, but what she didn't realize was that she was a greater superhero than he would ever be. And Steve could obviously see that.

Steve didn't even realize he had zoned off until everyone was running off to their sectors of the building, leaving him and Y/N alone. Y/N looked to her father and smirked before saying, "Come on, Old Man. Get to work."

Steve chuckled, Y/N joining in as well. And with that, the father daughter duo ran off to start fighting some bad guys side by side.

Mama, I'm a big girl now!

[deepseavibez]

Sweetheart || KTH

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

-> Picture Source - Pinterest

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Sweetheart [Taehyung x Reader]

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Genre: Smut; 21+; Future Boss/Boyfriend Oneshot

Summary - Kim Taehyung is a sucessfully acclaimed erotica writer and he's looking for an assistant. When you don't make the cut, why does he want to give you the job anyway.

Warning - 21+!Only; Smut; Dirty Talk;

Word Count - 2.9k

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

You sat on the couch opposite him. Your fingers fiddling in your lap, a telltale sign as to how nervous you were. But why wouldn't you be? Your hard work, future and your livelihood were on the line and all he was doing was reading a few pieces of paper.

You observed his features as you waited, because honestly, you just couldn't help yourself. His black hair had you itching to run your fingers through them, his eyes one mono lid, and one partial double eyelid, basically as different as his dual personality.

But his lips were your favorite part. A full upper lip, pink and lusciously, tempting to bite. You could just imagine what those lips could do to you... In other places. You bit your own, in the desperate need to come back to reality.

You averted your eyes before you could catch any other feature, your mind would run wild with. He cleared his throat and it made you jump back to the here and now, completely pulling you out of your wild imagination.

You cursed at how much of an open book you were. 'S-sorry.' you managed to stop your stumble from escalating any further. His facial expression was skeptic, but he blinked and it morphed into something hard and serious a second later.

'Well these are good' he started as he piled your pages into a neat stack and signed off his name on the cover page, 'but I can't use them.'

'What? But you just said they were good.' You managed an even tone but your spine was rigid, and a ball was rapidly forming in the back of your throat.

'You lack depth.' It was stated so calmly. As if it was a simple fact of life and your hard work hadn't just been thrown into a gutter.

Temper rising, you reigned it in as you questioned, 'Depth?' He sat back on his side of the couch, hands spalying out on either side.

Damn if he didn't look like he owned the world, and he did, in this house, on his couch, and right now, your life was in his hands too. 'Yes, depth.' he nodded as he replied.

You see, the idea is there, the correct words are there, the grammar is perfect, but your tone, is completely wrong.' he licked his lips absently and as professional as you needed to be now, you clenched at the action. 'When a reader is going through a story, they tend to have options in how to react.'

They either read for themselves, picture the scenario happening to them or they read for the next person in the book. Either way they have to be able to feel what you're putting out. Pain, love, and even lust has to be explained in such a way that it takes no time at all for the connection and relativity to get to the reader. And you can write. But you can't write about sex.'

He picked up the first page and read aloud a snippet from the middle of the page. 'She orgasmed as he drove himself into her repeatedly....' He gave you a pointed look.

'Really, you sound like you're a virgin locked up in a box. You definitely have the key, but has it been used...' You cringed at the words. you wanted to defend yourself, but your throat was locked.

Despite how easy he was being, it wasn't the words you wanted to be told. Words like that, bruised. He sighed at your silence, placing the pages back neatly. 'You are new and raw, and I can see your strength lies in realism and logic. And with that you do have the potential to be a great writer of Erotic literature because your insight is different. But it is not what the position requires right now.'

Your face burned at the direct words. He was right, blunt, and hurtful but right. You never did half the things you wrote about. You were not a virgin, of course. but your sex life wasn't the best, and it wasn't top priority, but Taehyung was a renowned writer and you wanted to be in the intern position he had open.

It would not only build your career, it would also be a dream come true to work for a man that had the Erotic Fiction world in his palm. Fat chance, considering you were just told your best wasn't good enough. Plus, before the first round of interviews he made it quite clear that he needed someone as soon as possible.

You had pride, so you did the only thing your pride would allow you to. 'I'm sorry I wasted your time and I appreciate the criticism.' You got up and picked up your bag before leaning over to take your work from him. He held it to him.

'I never said you could leave.' His tone was harder than before, but his face remained a blank.

'But you just said you can't use them.'

'But I never said you didn't have the job.'

Looking at him incredulously you snapped. 'What reason would I have a job if I can't write or do what the job description entailed?'

His eyes grew dark at your tone. 'I'm willing to teach you.'

You squinted in disbelief, 'What, how to write?'

'Yes, but... I'm also willing to show you and help you experience the different scenarios you need to have the... means to write.' Your eyes were probably popping out of your head, as you thought Did he just propose what I think he was proposing.

'Yes, I am.' he smirked.

You almost grumbled at the transparency of your face. Recollecting yourself you leaned over and grabbed the papers out of his hands, 'Thank you for offering to make me a playtoy, but I'd rather not have anything to do with your dick.'

God would forgive you for lying, but you needed out of there, before you accepted what you wanted with every fiber of your being.

Releasing the papers and saying nothing he casually walked over to his bar, pouring himself a shot he answered, 'Considering how many times you've grabbed your lip and held it between your teeth since you got here, I think if I thrust two fingers inside of you right now, I'd find different.'

His eyes were swirling dancing - drowning you. The breath you sucked in elicited a wave of need that ran through your body. His raw words, an attack to the self-respect you tried to keep intact.

Because you really really wanted this gorgeous man to bring you to your knees. And it terrified you.

'That isn't appropriate; you can't say that to anyone, let alone an ex-prospect employee.' Your voice was breathy, and you cringed internally at the sound.

'I usually would never propose such a thing, or even go for someone so... inexperienced.' He took a sip and looked over at you above the glass rim. 'But,' he started as he put the glass down, 'You're intriguing.'

And think of it this way, we both get what we want professionally and satisfy the desire we both seem to be pulled toward right now.'

'What desire?' You rolled your eyes in an act of calling bullshit, but immediately felt so stupid at the comment, because you were actually considering his words. Why won't your legs work and get you the fuck out of there! Clicking his tongue he slowly smiled a half smile.

'The rise and fall of your breasts increasing, your blown pupils, nipples peaking out....you're aroused sweetheart.' He took a slow sip of his drink as you reeled with the blunt ferocity of the need that hit you.

His words were one thing, but his throat as he swallowed the golden liquid, made the urge to grab and bite and mark...with teeth and nails harder to resist, because no woman in her right mind could resist a man that knew exactly what she wants. But neither of you could alleviate the fact that this was only a second meeting.

The first being a five minute interview that gave you the opportunity to be in front of him right now. 'I don't even have to guess, I already knew then. And I see it now. You're so sweet and innocent and ever since that first day I was obsessed with corrupting you.'

His admittance was the shocking part. You didn't know what he saw, but being wanted by Taehyung....was something else. Could anyone come back from that feeling? You didn't think so.

'I want you.' The direct statement rolled of his tongue so casually, as if your whole perspective hadn't made a one-eighty. 'I want your neck, to be the one to kiss and caress and mark. I want your waist, your body, to be held as close to mine as possible as my tongue dances with yours.' He started walking closer to you, and you instinctively walked backwards, just as slow.

‘Your eyes fully blown and dark with lust, probably seeing yourself on this couch, back arched, head back, keeping your back aligned to my chest as I thrust into you from behind. My hand on your throat, fingers in your pussy, the moans you'd be giving me, music to my ears.' He groaned, a slow smirk of his lips corrupting you his with his play.

He tilted his head to the side and walked closer. You were caught in a daze. Looking at this beautiful man, all your control seeping through the cracks of any sort of defense. You were being stalked.

A hunter, a male, a danger to all of your emotions and he had his prey exactly where he wanted it. 'That black silk scarf on my couch,' his eyes never leaving yours, he continued, 'you could be tied to my bed, wrists together above your head, naked as my fingers trailed a path down your each and every curve, starting with your lips. You would want me to caress your chin and have my thumb flittering back and forth, as my tongue dived into your ear.' You choked a moan as your back came in contact with the wall.

Your pages, your bag, your will, falling to the floor. You closed your eyes, lost in the way you were feeling, in his words, in how much you wanted it to be true. 'I can imagine you squirm when I bite your earlobe, my fingers would trail down your neck, around it, adding a bit of pressure, and I would bite, suckle and you would want me to leave marks, wouldn't you.' The last words were a whisper, a hairs breathe away from your ear.

You sucked in a breathe and opened your eyes to find one of his hands on the side of the wall, his glass on the counter next to you, his eyes hooded looking at your lips. His free hand running the back across your cheek, and you leaned into the touch involuntarily.

His palm glided down to the side of your breast 'Your sensitive breasts, they'd fill my hands, as I held them, kissed around them swirled my tongue around the tips, oh so slowly before suckling on one like it's my favorite treat and tugging on the other with my fingers.'

He met your eyes then. He was so close to you, the heat from him came off in waves and he sported a hard bulge that made the slightest contact with your tummy making itself known.

And my God you were a whimpering mess at the thought of him inside you. Stifling a sob, you broke off from the wall and made a sprint to the door.

You needed out, you were scared at so much all at once. You needed to find yourself again. But his hand caught yours at the wrist. You tugged and pulled, a lost cause considering how lean and strong he was. You were pulled, and gripped at the shoulders with long fingers.

You made the biggest mistake putting your hair up this morning, you thought as his lips met the junction between your shoulder and neck. The subtle act cascading through your body, instinctively making your head lie against his shoulder in meek compliance.

And you knew, right then, you couldn't leave. He wouldn't let you, and you didn't want him too.

'Would you like my lips in your pussy, baby. Would you want me to kiss my way down your body and stop as I reached the junction between your thighs? Want me to suckle you through your panties, until you were a soaking mess and I needed to rip it off to get better access?

'... Diving my tongue up and down your slit, dipping it in and out of your small hole, and working my way back up to grab your clit between my lips?'

'Would you want me to make you come all over my face, make you scream and taste yourself off me as I grabbed you for a kiss after?' He rubbed his nose and lips and tongue, mouth open slightly, lazily across your cheek to your ear, and back down to your neck.

The images all beating you one after the other. You wanted something, more...less...you didn't know what but you needed it. His right hand worked its way to the top of your jeans, unsnapping the button and zipper.

Your hands went to stop him, but he grabbed them and held both in one had behind your back. He grazed his fingers painfully slow with barely there touches above your panty line you didn't know how much more you could take. You wanted more.

You wanted him to stop. But you didn't. He cupped you then, a harsh sound escaped you at the impact. 'I told you, you would be soaked. You're ready for me. So ready. And I want to drive my cock straight into you. Hard. I want to make you come and I want to do it again, slow and edge you till the end but never tipping you over. A fitting punishment for making me go crazy with how much I want to fuck you,' he growled his words, making you more wet if that was even possible.

Then he let go. No hands on you. No contact. Luckily you could lean against the wall, but your knees gave out. You sat on the floor taking hard deep breathes as you tried to compose yourself.

He leaned against his kitchen counter and watched you. He downed the rest of his drink in one go and slammed it on the table. A pure indication of the thread his control was hanging on. 'I don't rape people. But I needed you to understand what you're shutting yourself away from I will never claim to be a good man. But I know how to make a woman feel good. And we're both adults, baby.'

The pet name use wasn't lost on you. 'How you're feeling now, is a tip of the iceberg of the satisfaction you will feel if your readers react as you are.' He turned away placing his glass in the sink. His knuckles white. His eyes dark. His simmering anger waiting underneath a very stable, very toned, very bitable body.

'You may leave.' He said it as a dismissal and you wasn't sure you heard right. 'I may not like it, and I do want to fuck you with every fiber of my being, but it's your choice to be and do what you want at the end of the day.' So this was it. It was all on you. Your choice.

You wanted to laugh. Five minutes ago you would have wanted it, but now you were just empty. If you did this, you would grow, you would experience new things, and your career would take off with the knowledge.

If you left you'd have your pride, you wouldn't have to fight the battles and speculation about climbing the ladder by climbing on the boss’s dick, but you'd be a shell of who you are. Believe it or not you learned more about yourself in the last hour than in the last year.

Getting up slowly, still slightly quivering you started walking. Walking with open jeans would have been embarrassing in any other situation, but this time it wasn't. You made it to him and did the boldest thing you'd ever done in your life. You cupped his bulge in your hand and gave a gentle squeeze.

He sucked in a breath, his hand going to your ass and squeezing in turn. He looked ten times more dangerous than he usually did, it was a no brainer you had caught him off guard. 'Please.' you whispered looking into his eyes. Needy. Desperate for something you never knew you needed.

Breathing heavily as you begged. He gripped your hair that he let loose, when you didn't know, but it was now tangled in his hands as he pulled your head back, to expose your neck and nibbled against it lightly, 'Please what.'

'Teach me,' Your acceptance tipped the scale in his favor. You were a goner the minute you met this man and now look at you almost in your underwear in his kitchen. 'I don't want to leave.'

He smiled devilishly, making him look devilishly handsome. You would never get used to that smile. You would melt every time. Be on your knees when he ordered. And give him all of you when he asked.

He leaned into you, as he gripped you chin, 'You were never going to leave anyway.' he said softly as his lips descended on yours.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

[leelee10898]

Eggselent Adventure 🐣

Happy Easter from the Girls of CGW.

This is from the CGW universe (Cordonians gone wild) a collaborative AU effort by @ao719 @speedyoperarascalparty @cocomaxley and myself. Catch our other stories HERE

The girls sat in the chairs at the spa, getting their pedicures. “So easter is coming up really fast. Any plans?” Pam questioned

“No. Since its our first easter together, I am staying here instead of going to Chicago. Plus my parents are going on a cruise.” Genevieve said with closed eyes.

“Same. I told my parents that I would come in June and we could go to the beach house with them. They are bugging to meet Leo.” Alicia sighed.

“Well, since were all staying in Cordonia how about we spend easter together?” Anitah said sipping her glass of champagne.  

“Of course I do. This time we will wait to get hammered until after dinner.” Anitah giggled as she high fived Alicia.

“You sure you want to do that? Do you remember Thanksgiving?” Pam quirked her brow, remembering the disaster it was.

“Umm and how about Maxwell not being allowed around the deep fryer.” Gen added in, they all nodded in agreement.

“We should do something fun. I seen something on pinterest about Adult egg hunts.” Alicia said pulling up the app on her phone.  

“oooh I saw that too. People put little liquor bottles in them. Or other things.” Anitah squealed.

“What kind of other things? Oooh, how about we make it a dirty egg hunt. Each egg would have a sexual favor or situation in them.” Pam grinned, her mind swirling of all the fun things she could do with Drake.  

“Hell yes! I'm in.” Genevieve smirked.

“Same.” Alicia and Anitah said simultaneously.

“Although I wouldn't mind finding some alcoholic eggs too.” Alicia giggled.

A couple weeks later the four couples and Maxwell gathered in the main dining hall. Alicia and Anitah spent the whole morning cooking. While Genevieve and Pam stuffed the rest of the eggs and instructed the staff what to do with them.

They gathered around the huge ham dinner with all the fixings. Maxwell licked his lips as he plopped a huge helping of mashed potatoes on his plate. “Tiger Lily, Little blossom, this looks and smells so good. Luckily I have my fat pants on.”

“Seriously, this is amazing.  Considering the fiasco Thanksgiving was.” Liam grinned, Leo shuddered “Don't remind me. My eyebrows never grew back right.”

Maxwell held up his hands defensively “im fo fawry weo.” He said with a mouth full of potatoes. They group finished eating and sat around nice and stuffed, talking and laughing when the Ladies stood.

“Ok guys, we have prepared a little fun for us. If you'll join us in the Garden.” Anitah spoke up. They walked into the garden, dozens of eggs were strewn about on the palace lawn. “An easter egg hunt? What are we 6?” Drake snorted, prompting a hard slap to the chest from pam. “No Drake. This is an adult egg hunt. No candy, well maybe some are … edible.” she giggled. Leo cocked his brow “Edible love?” Alicia bit her lower lip.

“Yep. Some have naughty items, some have other treats.” Genevieve winked.

“She means booze. Some have booze.” Alicia shouted. The guys all nodded in Appreciation.

“Some also have naughty couples ideas. There are hidden eggs too. They aren't all going to be right in the grass. Gen and I had the staff hide them. So we don't know where they are hidden.” Pam added.

“I can't wait. I am an egg hunting pro. If I knew we were doing this I could have brought the egganator 2000.” Maxwell danced in place.

“what the hell is that Maxwell?” Alicia quipped her eye.

“Oh, my special easter egg hunting bag. Guaranteed no spillage.” He said matter of factly.

The staff handed out bags so they could collect eggs. Anitah grew impatient  “Ok, enough of this. Lets hunt. Annnnnd GO!” Anitah shouted as they all took off scooping of eggs.

“Drake over here.” Pam motioned towards the left side of the garden. Anitah and Liam took off towards the hedge maze, maxwell covered the lawn and patio, Genevieve and Rashad took off around the outside of the maze, while Alicia and Leo headed towards the right side.  

Anitah and Liam zipped through the maze following a trail of eggs. Liam set his sights on a golden egg tucked partially out of view in the hedge. He quickly made his way over, extending his hand to grab the egg when Anitah snatched it up. “Anitah! I was going to get that one.”

“You gotta be quicker than that my king.” she winked as he grabbed her hand spinning him i to her. “I believe stealing from the king requires punishment. You have been a bad girl, my queen.” his husky voice sending a shiver through her body. Anitah backed away slowly from Liam “well my king,  I look forward to that, but, you have to catch me first.”

Genevieve and Rashad quickly picked up eggs. “Here you are sweetheart this one is sparkly, just like you.” Rashad handed her a pink sparkly egg. “Rashad. Honey. I don't think you quite get the idea of an egg hunt.  But thank you, you are so sweet.” she kissed him on the cheek, he quickly turned his face capturing her lips, surprising her. “Rashad, you little devil.” she playfully swatted him. “All part of my plan, my dear. He pulled her flesh to him, capturing her lips once again when they heard rustling in the bushes. Milo popped out with something in his mouth. “Oh, Milo. What do you have there?” Genevieve cheerfully called out as milo scampered up to Rashad, dropping the item at his feet. He bent down to pick it up. “Ew, what is it? Its covered in drool and it smells like cherries?”

Genevieve tried to stiffen her giggles “Baby, that's edible undies.” Rashad promptly dropped the undergarments and shuddered. I've lost my appetite.

Leo and Alicia quickly picked up all the eggs in the section they were in. They found themselves in a secluded section of the garden away from their friends. Alicia felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her waist. “What are you doing Leo?”

“Nothing…” He brushed her hair away from her neck as his lips nipped against her delicate skin. “We are supposed to be looking for eggs.”

“Screw the eggs. We have enough.” His warm breath leaving goosebumps all over her body, his hand slipped beneath her sun dress causing Alicia to drop her bag of eggs. “Ok, you win.” she breathed out.

Pam and Drake scooped up all of the eggs in their section.  “If we hurry up, we can find more. Look, Rashad and Genevieve left a ton of eggs behind.” Pam pointed out as she bent over to pick up an egg. A breeze slightly lifting her dress, exposing the globes of her ass. Drake groaned at the sight, adjusting his hardening length. Pam turned noticing the bulge in her in his pants, she bit her bottom lip and walked up to him “I can take care of that.” she whispered in his ear as she drug him off behind a tree. She dropped to her knees “Pam. Here? You don't have to. OH GOD. That. Feels…..”

The gang all gathered back on the patio. “Ok everyone, lets see what we got. Gen and Rashad,  how about you start us off.” Pam told her.

Genevieve reached for one of the larger eggs and a little bottle of Grey Goose vodka fell into her palm. “Yes! I love vodka. It just doesn't like me all time.” She giggled as she watch Rashad open an egg. He pulled out a small tube of strawberry flavored lube. He looked his wife with hungry eyes, “There’s only one flavor I like more than strawberries.” He reached for another egg that had a slip of paper inside. He handed it to her with a grin. She read it aloud, “Boss and secretary...oohh. I get to be the boss this time.” She opened another egg in their pile. This one had another folded sheet of paper. “Reverse cowgirl,” she smiled coyly at Rashad who smirked. He leaned in close whispering, “Get ready to ride hard tonight, sweetheart.” He kissed her flushed cheek.

“Ready to open our eggs, love?” Liam smiled at Anitah.

She rubbed her hands together with a grin. “Yes!”

Liam opened the first egg, a small bottle of scotch. “Glenfiddich! This is good stuff,” Liam grinned.

Anitah opened the next egg pulling out something red and read the tag. “Eat me,” she chuckled holding up the strawberry flavored edible thong.

A low growl escaped Liam as he smirked, wriggling his brows. “You’re wearing those later.” He opened the next egg pulling out something small, purple and textured. “What is this?” He shook it next to his ear and Anitah began to laugh.

“That’s a finger vibrator, Liam.” She took it from him and slipped it on her finger through the small ring. A wide grin spread across his face. Anitah shook her head and opened the last egg pulling out a piece of paper. “Backwards cowgirl,” she looked up at Liam biting her lip.

“Easter is officially my favorite holiday. We got everything we need for the very fun night ahead of us, my Queen,” he smirked as he leaned down kissing her.

“You ready to see what we got?” Pam grinned excitedly looking at her husband. Drake nodded, opening his first egg. “Makers Mark! Alright” Drake grinned sticking the small bottle into his pocket. Pam smiled opening an egg and pulling out a strip of paper. “69” is all that was written on it. She bit her lip and turned it out toward Drake, who read the paper and smiled ear to ear. He leaned in kissing Pam. “Best Easter gift, ever” he growled. Drake opened another egg. He pulled out a white g string that read in orange letters “Some bunny wants your carrot”. Drake smirked dangling the panties by his finger. “As long as these are for you, I am a happy man”. Pam opened her next egg, her brow furrowed as she pulled out the furry tail. She read the slip of paper attached. “Use this butt plug on your partner”. She read aloud. Drake’s face paled, his mouth open in shock

“No..no way.” Pam giggled holding it up for him to see. “But look many, it's a cat's tail...MEOW”. Drake stared his giggling wife down and grabbed the tail putting it back in the egg, flinging it as far away as he could get it. “Not happening, Pam.”

Leo jogged across the lawn retrieving the discarded egg. “Well, look what I found.” He gave Alicia a sly smirk, a look of fear spread across her face. “Ah, lets um open our eggs ok.” she gave a nervous chuckle as she cracked open her first egg pulling out a folded up black piece of satin with a piece of paper in the center.  “Oh! It's a blindfold.” she unfolded the paper. “No look, no touch. The finders hands must be bound, and eyes covered while partner pleases them. “Kinky card repeat. If you thought last time was good.” he waggled his brows. Leo reached into his bag pulling two eggs. “yes! Johnny walker blue for me, and parrot bay, that's all you love.” they opened several eggs getting a couples massage certificate, a few bottles of liquor, and a mr nose mans thong that Leo put on over his pants. Alicia pulled out a small tube she looked at the container “good head, blue raspberry deep throat spray.” she looked at Leo, and then over to Pam and Drake. “Leo, as much as I enjoy giving you head. This screams Drammy.” Alicia giggled as she handed pam the spray.

Maxwell came strutting out of the palace, milo next to him. Anitahs hand flew over her mouth fighting off the giggles. “Does he have?” Pam not able to get the words out. Alicia shook her head “Uh huh, he sure does.”

“Hey guys. I got lots of cool stuff in my eggs. Check out my elephant hat.” he shook his head making the trunk shake. “max that's not a hat.” Genevieve giggled.  “Its not?”

“No. Its underwear, your dick goes in the trunk.” Drake snorted.

Maxwell shrugged his shoulders “Eh, it's pretty cool as a hat.”  

The group shared some laughs,and desert before each heading home. Alicia and Anitah walked together talking before they reached their quarters. “That was fun. We really need to do it again.” Alicia grinned.

“Definitely,  but next year we need to up the ante.” She gave her a wicked smirk before Liam called for her. “Happy Easter.” the two yelled.  

Tags: CGW: @annekebbphotography @carabeth @moneyfordiamonds @give-me-ernest-sinclaire @3pawandme @indiacater @ooo-barff-ooo @ownworldresident @tornbetween2loves @perfectprofessorherokid @stopforamoment @editboutique @wannabemc2 @zaffrenotes @enmchoices @lauradowning29 @lodberg @smalltalk88 @gibbles82 @heatherfilliez @drakesensworld @nikkis1983 @sweetest-marbear @classylady1234 @daniv2278 @rainbowsinthestorm @jared2612 @liamxs-world @notoriouscs @blubutterflyy @captain-kingliamsqueen @whenyourheartskipsabeat @lynne1993 @coldcollectornight08 @be-still-my-aching-heart @dcbbw @the-soot-sprite

@kennaxval @hopefulmoonobject @crookedslimecreatorpasta @be-still-my-aching-heart @ao719 @speedyoperarascalparty @riseandshinelittleblossom @cocomaxley @bobasheebaby @ownworldresident @cordoniaqueensworld