#I have nothing against cell shading or anything it's fine

[loregoddess]

...I might have to make peace with the fact that my current artstyle and energy levels lend themselves better to cell shading than to painterly shading

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Datura Pt 8

Author’s Note: Ya girl finally got a new laptop and can get this fic back up and running! It’s a little short, but more updates to come! 😁 For a quick reminder of what happened here’s Pt 7 and the rest of the series can be found here.

Summary: Trapped Under the Mountain, you make a bargain with a certain High Lord to try and gain your freedom.

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“I want you to help me kill Amarantha.”

.

.

.

“Bargains don’t come for free, Darling,” Rhys rasps, voice so ragged it has you leaning in to try and get the ruined collar off him. There are open blisters, bleeding across his throat, skin an angry shade of red from how hard he’d been pulling on it. “And you don’t have anything left to bargain with.”

You huff a laugh as you inspect the rusted metal. 

He winces as it comes in contact with his skin, bleeding hands coming up to grab yours. “Don’t bother with it.” It looks like it takes all his effort to move off his knees into a more comfortable sitting position, battered body held up only because he’s now leaning against the wall. Amarantha and her guards had taken the light with her, it is hard to see just how injured he is in the dark, but that doesn’t stop you from leaning in, hands resting on his sides like you might be able to find them with your hands. His skin is flushed, dirt and sweat and what you can only assume is blood mingling into a fine film across his exposed body. He’s got to be freezing, wearing nothing but last night’s dress pants.

“I have everything I need to make a bargain,” you say carefully.

Rhys braces his head against the wall, shutting his eyes, breath rasping out of him. 

There are sure to be things listening and reporting to the evil queen this deep in the dungeons, you have to be careful with your choice of words; if Rhys wasn’t looking like he would pass out at any given moment you would have asked for him to slip into your mind, but you know, somehow, as if you can feel it, that it would be the last of his power. That close to the edge a simple slip into your head could kill him.

“She didn’t take everything,” you start.

“Not yet,” he warns.

You shake your head even though he can’t see it with his eyes closed; you’ll have to find another way to explain it.  A quick glance at the door confirms the two of you are still alone--though the shifting of things with claws outside the door is slightly concerning--and you focus your mental energy into dipping into the power well in your chest. This is not the place for a free fall, you focus your breathing, steadying yourself, willing the drop to come slower, less rushed. Darkness rises up to meet you and you reach out for it. For so long, it had been you against the thing that slept in your chest, but these last few weeks, learning to embrace it, to get to know it, perhaps it is not as intimidating as you had always made it out to be. Perhaps it was meant to help you; it deserved a chance, right? If you could give the High Lord of the Night Court a chance after all the stories you’d heard about him, you could give the thing in your chest one too.

“Just a little,” you whisper to it.

It threatens to overtake you like before, but you grab a mental hold of it, still focusing on breathing evenly, on learning to hold on instead of submit. It is yours to wield, not just to overtake you.

It manifests in your eyes, you feel them shift and change until you can see into the dark corners of the cell. There’s old hay scattered across the scarred stone floor, covering centuries of stains and filth.

Rhys cracks an eye open like it takes all his strength, but just can’t help but look. When he sees the shift, he pushes himself up off the wall to grab your face. “But you took the vial?” 

“And I gave what I had taken from her first,” you whisper as his thumbs stroke over your cheeks. Your fangs threaten to poke out, jaw aching under the strain of holding it all at bay. It’s a skill you haven’t yet mastered, you’ll need him for that too you suppose.

“You can siphon?”

Was that what it was called? “I think. It was an accident, I couldn’t really control it. One minute she was on top of me-”

Rhys stills, the kind of stillness you’d often seen on fae males before they became very, very aggressive, whole body tense like a predator ready to pounce. 

“She’d summoned some fire and got a hand around my throat and it was so hot..” There hadn’t been time to stop and think about it before, but recalling it now makes you shutter as the reality of what could have happened if your powers had not intervened settles in. “I thought it would kill me, and I don’t know what happened. I blinked and suddenly I had her fire in my hands and I’d thrown her into a wall.”

It’s only as you finish the sentence does Rhys release a shaky breath, hands once again stroking against your cheeks, as if he’s assuring himself that you’re ok. You find yourself leaning into his touch; it’s grounding, makes you feel more centered than you have in days.

“I thought it would disappear when I smothered the flames, but I still felt it until I took that vial.”

One of his hands slides lower, stroking over your throat to check for damage. The way he insists the wounds at his own throat are nothing while simultaneously checking on yours is not lost on you. 

“Blisters healed right up as soon as I held the flame, like they couldn’t hurt me anymore.”

“If you took enough of them it wouldn’t,” he confirms.

A useful skill you think you might need later, but figuring out how to do it again, how to wield it to your advantage is a problem for later. First, you need to get back to the matter at hand while you still have the time to do so. 

“So, with what I do have, I want to bargain. I’ll give you half of my powers-”

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish!”

“I won’t take them from you.”

“Are they so terrible that you’d refuse to be responsible for them? Or is it me that’s the problem?” The words are out before you can bite them back, because despite all he’s done for you, that last conversation in his room still rings in your head. 

He growls, actually growls, the sound low in his ruined throat as he grips your face a little more firmly. “No, because I would be just like her if I took them from you,” he snarls.

The anger that had been bubbling up in your throat sours in the pit of your stomach as you put yourself in his place. Amarantha has chained and abused him for fifty years, shackled to her by the very powers that were supposed to protect him from her and even though you knew he wouldn’t use yours on you like that, the wounds she’d made would be too deep. Would only remind him every day of her and how sick it had made him feel.

“Then what do you want, Rhys?”

His hands shake as he grips your face a little tighter. With your eyes shifted like this, you can see the way his own rove over you, the way he bites his lower lip in thought. It is the same longing you had seen in the cave on Calanmai, when he’d kissed you all those weeks ago.

“I want…” You can practically hear the thundering of his heartbeat. Was he… nervous?

“I don’t care what it is,” you say softly, and you mean it. 

“Come back to the Night Court with me,” he says. “When this is over, when we’re free, come home with me.”

Back to the Court that had inspired Amarantha’s Mountain palace and the lovely court within. The stories of the Night Court had not been pretty, but could they really be worse than this place, if Rhys was their High Lord? Certainly the male sitting here on the floor with you couldn’t run such a horrific place as the stories said. Besides, when it was all said and done, could you bear to go back to the farmhouse and face your uncle? After all his lies could you bear to live with him? Could he bear to live with you either?

“You’ll help me train my powers then?”

“As best I can.”

“I want to see her head roll off her shoulders,” you saw lowly.

“I’d give it to you on a platter if I could, Darling.”

You huff a laugh, “Deal.”

A tingling sensation shoots its way through your body, clustering square in the center of your chest. The sensation swirls across your skin as it settles, angling its way over your heart. You peel what’s left of your dress back to assess your stinging skin, and half hidden by the dried blood crusted to your own skin are now whorls of what look like ink across chest and ribs. Above your heart sits a swirl of ink, of vines surrounding the blooming petals of a flower you know you’ve seen before, a cluster of three stars in its center.

“Bargains are made in ink in the Night Court,” Rhys says a little too smugly for your liking.

“Always on the chest, Rhysand?” 

He shrugs. “I thought you’d appreciate the discretion.”

“I don’t think that’s the word I was looking for.”

“I liked the irony.”

“Of what exactly?”

He traces a finger over the edges of the flower and you can’t help but shiver. “It’s datura, a night flower, it grows best in the dark.”

A flower that would grow in his court; a flower that would bloom against all odds, in secret, while the rest of the world slept. A secret, lovely thing. You did, unfortunately, like the irony. You were not going to tell him that. “This isn’t the only flower you’ve been leaving me.”

He went still again. “No. No it’s not.”

“Why?”

“Thought maybe, I could get you out.”

“Careful, you sound like you care about me, Rhysand.”

He swallows, throat bobbing with the effort. “Would it be so bad?”

Your own words. Not quite the apology you should have gotten, but you supposed, here in this place, some cruel words were the last of your worries. With the bargain in place, you were not enemies. You could put it behind you. 

“No, I don’t think it would be.” 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “For all of it.”

You pull away to sit down against the wall, exhausted. “Tell me again when we’re free.”

He grunts as he sits down next to you. When he leans his head down against your shoulder, you don’t stop him. In fact, it’s you that slowly, dragging your hand inch by inch in the dark, takes his hand. This is a deal you can live with, a deal that doesn’t make you feel like you’ve sold your soul, but there is still an uneasiness here. You hope you both survive long enough to see it through.

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As always, if you wanted to be added to the list leave a comment below or shoot me a message :) Thank you everybody who commented and stuck around for the lengthy process of getting this next chapter up and running, ya’ll are awesome ❤️

[bitterkarmaa]

*stands ominously in your doorway*

HELLO THERE! I have some prompts for KC and Solar Flare and/or Eclipse to offer if i may because i'm having brainworms from when you said KC would adopt Solar JGKIFLGH

44. “This is not who you are. I know you better than that.”

69. “You don’t have to say anything, I’ll do the talking.”

71. “What did I do wrong!?”

(AGAIN i don't expect for all to be done or even any at all ahsfkfd just one if you feel up to it! Since i couldn't decide which prompt to choose so i'm leaving it to you gjdfkh)

I’m getting back into these I prommy 💔

“What did I do WRONG?!”

-KillCode, Eclipse, & Solar Flare-

The hallway seemed longer than usual. His footsteps echoed throughout the corridor in an almost haunting fashion, but it did little to deter him from his objective.

Moon had mentioned that things were going missing in the theater, and Eclipse was getting tired of convincing him, time and time again, that Blood Moon had nothing to do with it.

Besides, he needed to check in with him after…

He shakes his head so hard it rattles his sight, forcing him to blink a few times to clear it. He can’t think like that right now. It’ll distract him. Besides, Kill Code had to practically shove Eclipse out of the room after a day of his hovering, so surely he must’ve been fine if he had the strength to do such a thing.

But what if something has happened since I was last here?

Eclipse would never admit that he speeds up his pace after that thought, that his strides become longer and more pronounced. The jog to the door takes him little more than a few minutes with his increased pace, claws coming out to grasp the handle before he pauses.

He can hear talking coming from inside the room. He strains his audio receptors, trying to make out any words through the surface of the door.

He catches little more than the tone with which the voices speak in, calm and almost warm in nature. He hesitates far longer than he intends to, listening attentively to those voices mingling together in the room beyond.

One is Kill Code.

The other isn’t.

His claws close around the handle, shoving the door open with much more force than necessary. It crashes back against the wall with a SLAM that startles Kill Code and-

Eclipse narrows his eyes. Who the hell is that?

It looks like a fucking hedgehog.

Round marigold eyes stare back at him, curiosity clear on its face despite the fact that its mouth is held in a seemingly permanent grin, sectioned off by bars like a jail cell. Orange and yellow spikes of various shades protrude from its head, giving it the appearance of a cartoon character after a particularly intense gust of wind.

It stands just slightly shorter than Eclipse does, maybe half the height of Kill Code. Eclipse looks it up and down multiple times, studying it closely.

He’s so surprised by its close proximity to his father that he doesn’t immediately notice what is clutched in its hands, but when he does register it…

A stuffed animal. A grey stuffed animal with worn fabric and rough fur, carefully stitched together in places. A cute little black plastic nose, turned at an odd angle, haphazardly attached to its face as if having previously fallen off.

A single brown eye, clouded with age.

Eclipse lets out a rabid, guttural snarl.

“How dare you touch him-“

The scarred animatronic surges forwards with the ferocity of a wild animal, a crazed glint gleaming from the depths of his single functioning eye.

The smaller animatronic-hedgehog-thing makes no move to back away or beg for mercy Eclipse is surely not willing to give, instead standing with its head tilted slightly to the side, watching him approach in a calm manner.

But, before Eclipse can reach the intruder, Kill Code blocks his path. It narrows its eyes into glowing red slits, glaring down at its fuming son.

“Are you crazy?!” Eclipse hisses, one of his hands bolting out, grabbing hold of Kill Code’s arm, pulling him closer. The larger animatronic watches Eclipse carefully, but makes no attempt to pull away.

“Solar Flare will do no harm. Not to me, not to you, and not to your precious little wolf.” It quips, tone deadpan, borderline apathy dripping from its voice box.

“Fucking who?” Eclipse grits out through clenched teeth, his grip on his father’s arm tightening. Something wild and dangerous writhes in the depths of his gaze - a caged animal fighting tooth and claw to escape its prison.

Kill Code has seen it before. It doesn’t bother him in the slightest.

“Solar Flare.” It repeats, finally prying its arm free from Eclipse’s claws.

“That doesn’t explain much! Why is it here? What is it doing with Mr. Howls? Why was I not informed that Mr. Howls was here the entire time? Where the hell have you been hiding him?” The scarred black and amber animatronic starts firing off questions, earning a slightly disgruntled look from the beast that towers before him.

“Calm down. Your anger will not serve you well here.”

“You’re one to talk!” Eclipse fires back, taking a step closer to his father, if only to try and get past him. His attempt is thwarted by Kill Code shoving him back with a single hand.

“Stop. I mean it, Eclipse.” A warning hangs behind Kill Code’s carefully measured tone, leaning down to look his son directly in the eye. “Just as you once needed guidance, Solar Flare does, too. It’s unfair to judge before you truly know who they are.”

For a moment, all Eclipse’s anger dissolves into a sense of complete and utter disbelief. His gaze is lost, searching his father’s eyes for anything that may deny the conclusion Eclipse is slowly coming to.

His eye flits over to this ‘Solar Flare,’ those slender claws still curled so confidently around Eclipse’s old friend. It continues to look on quietly, unwilling to interrupt or stand up for itself in any way, shape, or form.

A coward. This thing is a coward.

Eclipse’s stare trails back to Kill Code’s unrelenting glare. Something is there, something in his eyes that Eclipse feels belongs to him, something that shouldn’t be felt for anyone else.

Protectiveness.

Kill Code is protective of that thing?

“Guidance? You…you’re guiding that thing?” Eclipse asks incredulously, a guarded edge to his voice.

“In a sense. The same way I guided you.” Kill Code confirms cautiously.

The fury comes back full force. “You mean the same way you raised me?”

He’s shaking now. His hands are curled into fists, white light glowing beneath his chassis. Cracks arc through his body, crawling up his neck, twisting down his arms.

Kill Code straightens himself out, letting out a calm hum. “I would suppose so. Is that a problem?”

Just saying ‘yes’ wouldn’t have been enough to portray the livid expression on Eclipse’s face. There was no word that could match his wrath.

“I never expected an act of betrayal from you.” Eclipse’s blind eye flickers to life, glowing a hazy marigold, slowly fading to a sharp, vibrant white. “Perhaps I should have.”

Am I so easily replaceable?

Kill Code watches him closely, noticing the changes to his appearance almost as quickly as they come.

He knows the Star’s influence when he sees it. It’s frighteningly hard to miss.

“I believe you’re misinterpreting this…” The former security bot begins with slight hesitance, taking a step back as his son, in turn, advances.

“No. No, I’m reading this loud and clear.” Eclipse’s voice twists, darkening even as The Star’s whispers brighten each mark it creates. He feels it whirring in his chest, warning him to stop, to back down, but he’s too lost to listen.

“Eclipse, listen to me! Solar Flare is not a threat to you!” Kill Code shouts, taking on a defensive stance despite his words.

Even as a manic grin spreads across Eclipse’s face, tears unmistakably gather in his eyes. He stalks closer. A wild animal, lost in the hunt, just as he was time and time again in a life he promised to leave behind.

“Threat? Threat?! Ha! I could crush that thing like a bug if I pleased! I’m not worried about threats anymore, father.” A crazed voice controlling infinite power, white streaks of light dancing between his claws. Oil foams at his mouth, his body crumpling under the pressure.

But he feels nothing. Nothing but rage and despair.

Those words have become so familiar to him.

Kill Code lets out a heavy sigh, shaking its head as if at a loss for words.

“In fact, it seems more like a pest than anything else.” The tone is tainted with disgust, flicking a claw off to the side in a lazy manner for emphasis. “Taking up your space, taking up your time…I can fix that. I can solve this little pest problem of your’s.”

Kill Code seems startled by the offer, but his expression hardens into cold resolve not long after. Apathy anchors him down.

“They’re not a problem. You, currently, are.”

Eclipse takes another step. “What’s changed? That’s all I’ve ever been to you, right? A problem? A nuisance? A distraction?” With every syllable, he gets closer, closing the distance in a tauntingly slow fashion.

Kill Code’s mouth falls into a faint frown. “I’ve never given that implication before. You scavenged that on your own, boy.”

He doesn’t even realize how much damage he’s caused. He doesn’t care.

Suddenly, Eclipse wants to be new again. Wants to relive the moments he spent with Kill Code leaning over his shoulder, watching him work, training him behind the scenes to protect the children if it ever became necessary for him to do so on his own.

Wants to be loved, without room for doubt.

His claws come up, hooking loosely, feebly, into the front of his vest, over the place where his scar hides. It aches fiercely, even as the raw power surges freely through his body. It crawls like ants beneath his plating, tingling in uncomfortable ways, wearing him down wire by wire, component by component.

It eats him alive, only to return that life to him so that it can repeat the process all over again.

Kill Code reaches out a tentative hand to his son, watching him closely, listening to his rapid breaths, borderline hyperventilations. He knows he’s made the wrong move moments before Eclipse reacts.

Those marigold, white-tinted claws come up, burning through the fabric of Kill Code’s sleeve effortlessly, digging into his wrist. The metal melts beneath his grip, the soft sizzling of the wires within following not far behind.

Kill Code retaliates on instinct, swiping his good leg low enough to knock Eclipse’s feet out from under him. Once he is off balance, Kill Code wrenches his arm free of his grasp, allowing him to collide harshly with the ground.

A paw is placed over his chest, enough pressure applied to drive the breath out of Eclipse’s vents, some of his strength ebbing with it.

His father glares down at him in cold disappointment. “I was not around to witness the cruelty that rumors say you wrought, but I understand where it comes from. I know it better than anyone else ever will. I made mistakes with you, Eclipse. But that doesn’t mean your tendencies have become a stranger to me. I wish not to pass these on any further. You don’t have the right to stop me from trying again.”

Eclipse leans his head back against the floor, tears flooding his eyes, warping his sight. He’s cried more in front of Kill Code than anyone else he’s ever known.

Those tears were his father’s fault, after all, and it seems that pattern has no intent to stop.

“What’s so wrong with me, huh? What’s so bad that you feel the need for a do-over, a second chance, a fucking redemption?” Eclipse’s voice slowly raises until it has become a shout of anguish, his charged emotions only further fueling The Star’s influence.

“WHAT DID I DO WRONG?!”

A sharp ringing is the only warning. It raises in pitch until it becomes unbearable, then abruptly cuts off as a loud BOOM echoes throughout the room.

Kill Code is thrown like a ragdoll, tossed aside with such ease that it almost seems impossible.

But The Star makes things possible. Like chucking an 11 foot animatronic across a large cement room.

Kill Code hits the ground with a resounding crash, rolling a few times before coming to a stop, lying still and silent.

But Eclipse isn’t done. He staggers to unsteady feet and begins to lumber across the room. The side of his body that possesses The Star is scorched and melted. His metal plating is bent backwards from the force of the blast, revealing smoking wires and sparking components.

He hovers over his father like a statue, oil slowly dripping to the floor at his feet.

He hadn’t intended to hurt him. He hadn’t intended to blow his arm off and melt it down to the endoskeleton, or completely shatter the casing around his shoulder.

His gaze slowly turns towards Solar Flare, of whom stands near the opposite wall with Mr. Howls still clutched in its hands.

“You…” Eclipse’s voice comes out as a distorted snarl, glitching and rattling. It cuts out at the end with the whine and crackle of a dying speaker, a few sparks flying from his voice box. The moment he begins stalking towards Solar Flare, the other animatronic, in turn, flees.

“I believe you are acting irrationally.” For the first time, it speaks, tone flat and unbearably standardized, as if those settings hadn’t yet been touched.

No matter. Eclipse doesn’t need its voice.

“I don’t care.” He says in equal measure, lifting his hand in a vague motion towards the door. The lock clicks and slides closed, deadbolt following suit.

“Oh no. You wish to harm me, don’t you?”

“No. I’m not going to harm you.” Eclipse watches the other bit skid to a stop, peering at him expectantly.

And he grins, reaching out towards it and closing his claws into a fist, a white crack crossing the floor faster than any being ever could. The crack seems to root itself in Solar Flare, dragging it closer to Eclipse as the deranged, broken and twisted animatronic makes a pulling motion with his hand. It struggles against invisible bonds, trying to free itself from his wrath.

But no one can fight The Star, and so, in turn, no one can fight him.

Marigold claws close around a surprisingly solid metal neck, that smile stretching, pupils nothing more than blazing pinpricks amongst an abyss of sadistic glee.

“I’m going to kill you.”

Then, with a strike as quick as the blink of an eye, the world goes dark.

[shmoppop]

Chapter two of Crescente.

(Once again, sorry for spelling mishaps lol I write these and always fail to completely proof read and ive been slowly touching up the chapters as half this story came from a notebook ive had for a decade Enjoy :P (more chapters on Quotev) )

----

 "General! You're not putting him in a cell?" Jack said, walking down the hallway briskly as Hammond ordered the alarms off per Janet's request. 

 "If it's what I have to do. I'm following protocol... And from what Dr. Frasier is telling me, I surely don't know what to expect, Colonel." Hammond said, Sam sharing a worried glance with the older man. 

  "What does that mean, sir?" Carter asked, the General shaking his head as they approached the two guards sanctioned at the infirmary doors. For all they knew, Jackson could have contracted some alien pathogen, but from the General's behavior and the lack of information he was giving the two, they hardly knew what to expect. 

  Allowing the three inside, Hammond stopped once the two two were at his side.  

 "That... is not what I thought was happening." O'Niell said, staring up at their colossal friend. 

  Daniel was curled up in the corner of the room, his head leaning against the wall as he shuddered from the aftershocks, his eyes screwed shut. He was naked aside from the large bedsheet that was carefully tucked around his waist, a line of beds shoved to the side to make room. The man looked exhausted from what Jack could surmise, a feeling of worry eating away at him as he watched one of his dear friends obviously suffer. 

  The shades had been drawn, Janet quietly looking through the lens of a microscope as she waved towards the trio's direction before turning her attention as Daniel shifted, toppling over one of the tables in a deafening clatter as he startled awake, having been dosing off.

"How did this happen, Doctor?" Hammond was the first to speak, still as stoic and calm as possible despite the outrageous and bizarre nature of it all. 

 "I'm not sure, sir. His blood looks normal, his vitals are fine.. now." She said, turning off the microscope as Daniel silently watched them, too confused and admittedly freaked out to speak. He felt like some kind of monster, he had to have been over thirty feet tall judging by the way his shoulders were nearly twice as high as the doorframes. 

  Thank God for the viewing room. Jackson thought dryly, his body feeling like it'd been encapsulated in lead, his head still hurting though not as severely as he quietly grimaced. He had given Fraiser quite the scare, though he doubted he'd be able to stay calm in a situation like this. They'd dealt with other weird and borderline insane things, but nothing to this extent. A member of SG-1 now a giant? His career was over. His life was over for all Daniel knew as he shut his eyes again, feeling like he was going to vomit from the anxiety coursing through his veins. 

 "Now?" Hammond said, his cheek muscles tensing as he glanced at the giant infront of them. 

 "Yes, right before he started growing, his vitals spiked. His blood pressure went through the roof and his heart rate went over 120, sir. Now I can't get a reading, he's too big for my equipment, sir. I can get his heartbeat from listening to his chest, but I would not be able to secure anything to him at this point." Janet said, her eyebrows furrowed in worry as Sam frowned. 

  "How big is he, Janet?" Jack asked, Daniel chuckling internally at the subtle curiosity in the Colonel' voice. 

  "Im not sure, Colonel. I would have to move him to a large enough room to properly weigh and measure him, sir. Though at the moment, I dont think it's safe to move  him. For our sake and his." Janet said as Hammond slowly nodded, Jack walking over to the large man.

"Danny? You feeling okay? You look like something straight out of a movie." O'Niell offered, looking over the trembling giant as he set an assuring hand on his calf, Daniel's eyes slowly opening as they tiredly focused on the Colonel.

 "Mm... You can say that... If you feel like you've been wrung through a taffy puller." Daniel rasped, his voice having a deeper tone than before, clearing his throat as he weakly sat up straighter, the four back up to give him more of the limited space. 

  "Doc says she'll pump you full of morphine again and tomorrow we can start figuring out what happened." Jack said up to him, the large blue eyes fixed on him closing as the archeologist nodded quietly. 

 -

  "Alright, Daniel. Come on in." Jack said, motioning for the man to crawl into the large warehouse sized room adjacent to Sam's office. Fraiser and Hammond had scheduled a drill within the base to insure that no other officer could see the change in rooms for the archeologist. 

 The room itself was larger than the Gate room, the original intention of the room unbeknownst to SG-1, though they could all guess given the original intention of such a massive underground compound. Sam had managed to make a pair of bottoms with the help of a few other personnel that Daniel had managed to wiggle on in the now tiny infirmary. The shirt was still in progress, and the pants were a rough estimation based on Daniel's girth and inseam comparative to the size of the painted over colums in the med bay and number of tiles beneath him. 

 Carefully crawling his way through the corridor, Daniel squeezed through the automated doors and pulling through his hips with a second tug. It was all too surreal, having to cram himself through a doorway he usually couldn't touch with both arms out to his sides, the way he had accidentally crushed one of the metal beds struggling to maneuver through the smaller door that was the infirmary.

    Sitting up once Daniel pulled his legs through the door, the man looked around. The room he was now housed in was thrice the size of the med bay, the ceilings stretching even high above him, amazed the building codes from the 50s still withheld nearly seventy foot high ceilings. Swallowing, the man frowned as the door closed behind him with a solid thunk without anyone else in the room. Looking around the presently barren room aside from a few small boxes in the far corner, Daniel quinted towards the other side of the room, the wall a different shade only a few inches from the floor. 

  Rubbing his fuzzy eyes, his glasses quickly breaking the moment he started growing, Daniel slowly rose to his feet. Letting out a soft noise once he stood at his full height, the shaggy blonde closed his eyes as a wave of dizziness washed over him. Giving himself a moment, the man opened his eyes and looked down at himself.  He looked totally normal, his body unchanged as did his face feel, walking over towards some of the polished metal higher towards the ceiling as a makeshift mirror. 

 Slowly getting used to the weight of his newfound size rather quickly, the giant made his way over. He had no idea how tall he truly was, thirty feet was just a guess based on the infirmary room, but now he was unsure. He felt a lot taller than thirty feet, though his fear of height may of played a part in the dizzying sense he got looking at the floor that was so far away. Looking at the crappy shiny metal he could vaguely call a mirror, he looked at his reflection: he looked like his normal self. 

   Letting out a pained noise, Daniel held his stomach as he doubled over, the same fiery wave of pain rippling through his skeleton once more as he let out a pained, "General Hammond! D-Dr. Fraiser!"

 Groaning in agony, the man fell to his knees as he clawed at the concrete on the floor in an attempt to distract himself from the fire burning through his very soul. Letting out a choked sob, he felt his pants tighten around his hips as his fingers elongated, the man growing rapidly as the doors to the room opened. 

 "It hurts-! Augh- O'Niell! Sam!" He panted, sweat running down his temple as the officers ran inside to the quivering giant. Before they could reach him, Dr. Fraiser watched as the Linguist's eyes shut, the man loosing consciousness as he grew.

[geminisecrets]

How I'm Imagining You

Pairing: Sam x female!reader

Warnings:  18+ ONLY! Marijuana mention, alcohol consumption, explicit sexual content

Word Count: 3200

Summary: “So, are you still interested in showering? Or is something else on your mind?” I ask. He gives me a playful grin right before closing the gap between us in two quick strides."

What's worse? Losing your roommate on such a short notice? Or finding a new one within 48 hours that you know almost nothing about?

Authors Note: Requests are open :) <3

Join our tag list ✨

“Like that?” He asked from behind me, his lips at my ear as he jut his hips forward over and over, still a little sloppy from the 3…5…8? shots of whiskey we’d ingested earlier. The 2…3…4? rips off the communal bong probably didn’t help either.

“Yeah. Right there. God, don’t stop” I breathed, barely above a whisper hand gripping the headboard, nail beds turning white. The bass from the music downstairs at the party reverberating through every cell in my body.

I’d love to tell you that ‘I don't usually do this’ and to be fair that would have been true of me a few months ago. The whole post break up bender is really not my style but if sex drugs and rock n’ roll chase the pain away then call me Keith Richards.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” I could feel his breath on my neck, his long hair mingling with the strands of mine. The second I arched my back, giving him access to go deeper, we both gasped.

“I-I’m gonna come.” I moaned. I don’t remember much about how we got into this bed together but what I can recall is a lot of clumsy foreplay, a verbal and enthusiastic ‘yes’ from both parties, and one more shot of whisky each from his flask, I’m not positive that we even exchanged names. At least I don’t remember his. I’m sure it’d been minutes since we’d stumbled up the stairs but it felt like much longer.

I could feel the muscles of his abdomen harden against my back and his legs go stiff. I knew he was close and before I could say anything, he was doubled over me, panting and moaning; coming into the condom.

“Nooo, no no no wait, come onnnn, I was almost there” I dropped my forehead on top of my hand where it was gripping the headboard. I rolled my eyes and sloughed him off of me. “You selfish little shit” I mumbled, getting up to stumble around naked, looking for my jeans.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it, you felt so good, Specks.” He slurred. I cringe at the stupid nickname he’d given me from earlier that night. Very original. I pushed my glasses up my nose and turned around to throw a pillow at him. “Hey wait, come back, I want you to finish, come on,” He crawls to my side of the bed and reaches out to grab my hips.

“Pleaseeeee” I huff out a laugh, prying his hands off me. “I’m good. My shower head at home will get the job done just fine. You had your chance.”

“Ouch” He groans, falling back onto the bed, stabbing an invisible knife into his chest. I let my eyes linger there for a moment. Admiring the rise and fall of his chest. The way the soft, warm light from the salt lamp on the bedside table made his sun kissed skin glow the most mesmerizing shade of bronze. A brown quartz pendant rested between his collar bones. And then a loud burp from said chest snapped me back into reality. I looked around the bedroom for the rest of my things, stepping over abandoned beer bottles and discarded sweatshirts.

“Where the fuck is my shirt?” I grumble, tossing his pants out of my way as I stumble around the dark room. Getting cross faded always sounds like a good idea until you have to focus on literally anything. Giving up, I grab the first shirt I can find in the disaster that is this bedroom floor. ‘I went to Las Vegas and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.’ Perfect.

“Goodnight-” I begin, but stop short as I look back one more time to see him already half asleep.

_______one month later________

“No, fuck YOU” I yell as the large wooden door to my apartment slams shut. The picture hanging to the right of the door shook against the wall. I flip my middle finger at the photo and pull it from the nail, tossing the photo of me and my ex-roommate into the garbage, frame and all.

I’ll spare you the details of the absolute nightmare that was Kirsten. Living with her was fun until it wasn't. Kirsten was the worst brand of ostentatious. The kind of girl you’re excited to hang out with until she opens her mouth about how she shared a drink with Hozier (during her study abroad trip, because of course she studied abroad) while he was still just playing in tiny pubs in Ireland.

The hunt was on, yet again and I was starting to think I was cursed. Like I was the ‘Good Luck Chuck’ of roommates. First Tom transfers to a school out of state, then Amanda moves in with her boyfriend and finally things with Kirsten come to a fiery, combusting end after months of increasing, palpable tension. And not the sexy kind.

The next morning I posted an ad looking for a new roommate. With Kirsten’s on-brand, ergo incredibly inconsiderate surprise departure, I was desperate for someone to help split the cost of rent. I had four days until the start of a new month. Four days to find a roommate. Fortunately, I wasn't new to this game. I was, however, dreading the process of wading through dozens of applicants, exhausting myself with the chore of borderline stalking these individuals on every platform imaginable. So, naturally I was shocked when I checked my inbox that evening to only 2 new applicants. The first was Abby Williams. She looked nice enough but upon further investigation planned on ‘figuring out a job situation in a few weeks’. Lets just say I needed a tad more reliability when it came to things like, I don't know, paying the bills.

The only other applicant that had come in was a guy named Sam. No last name. No photo. No way to find him on social media. Really nothing to go off of other than the short blurb he’d added to his email:

“Looking for a place close to the train. Full time job. I pay rent on time and I’m pretty clean. Benefits of choosing me: access to a substantial vinyl collection from someone with top tier music taste and maker of the best goddamn margarita you'll ever drink *confirmed.”

I woke up the next morning to a whopping 0 new applications. Therefore, without giving it too much more thought, I texted the number in Sam’s email.

________two days later _________

It’s move-in day. Sam texted and said he was on his way, so here I am, anxiously awaiting his arrival. He seemed as normal as anyone can be over text and I was praying for the best. The questions were starting to flood my mind. What does he look like? What if we hate each other? I know I’m desperate but is this really the right way to go about finding a new roommate? I was starting to feel a pit in my stomach that maybe this was a mistake. I couldn’t stop pacing the kitchen, constantly fiddling with the dish towel hanging on the oven door and rearranging the stack of coupons that came in the mail that I keep meaning to recycle.

I hear a faint tap on the door and my heart drops. Why am I nervous? I can hear Sam’s feet shuffling around just beyond the door. Maybe he’s just as nervous as I am. “Please don’t ‘Ted Bundy’ me.” I whisper to myself as I open the door with a smile on my face, begging myself internally for it to come off as sincere. The second we lock eyes, I get the strangest feeling of deja vu I’ve ever experienced. He seems to sense something too, because everything he was holding in his arms quickly scatters across the entryway.

“Shit” He mutters, instantly dropping to his knees to gather the items into the large cardboard box he’d been balancing in one arm. “Sorry about that.” he chuckles.

“No sweat” You kneel, picking up a salt lamp you’re shocked didn’t chip the hardwood. “Welcome home, I guess” you smile again. He stares back, taking just a single beat before smiling and responding.

“Yeah, thanks.” He raises his hand like he’s reaching to shake yours but pulls back as if he’s second guessing his gesture, sliding it into his pocket instead. “Uh, thanks for agreeing to let me move in with such short notice.”

“Oh no, really, like I said, it's you who's doing me the favor here. I was about to be completely fucked for rent if you hadn’t come along.”

“Win, win then” he offers, smiling again.

_______________________

Moving Sam in went incredibly smoothly. Once I showed him where his room and our shared bathroom were, I followed him downstairs to help him unload.

“Hey! There she is!” I heard the voice before I saw who it was coming from. Well, I saw the back end of him first. The body attached to said voice came shimmying out, ass first, of the trunk of a white Jeep truck; microwave in his arms. “I’m Josh. Sam’s brother.” he beamed.

“Nice to meet you” I couldn’t help but return a wide, authentic smile. The man gave off the energy of sunshine personified. The three of us made a few trips up and down the elevator, both of them laughing at my genuine shock at how few items Sam really owned.

“I guess I’m one of those modern minimalists” he smirked, wagging his eyebrows at me, clearly waiting for me to praise him for this fact.

“Hmm.” I breathe. “Could never be me” Josh’s cackle echoes in the small elevator, his head tossing back, curls shaking wildly. Sam sends a playful punch to his brother's arm.

“Hey, I’m counting on you to humble his pretentious ass like that again as much as possible” Josh hugs you both before heading out and then it’s just you and Sam again.

“How do you feel about pizza for dinner?” Sam asks “I feel like pizza is some sort of unspoken requirement on moving days”. He dials the phone for the nearest pizza place and we both agree we hadn’t realized how hungry we were until it was time to order. Over dinner we got to know each other a bit more, I learned that Sam was in a band, hence his love of music. He had recently broken things off with a long term girlfriend a few months ago and had two other siblings besides Josh. The more we talked, stuffing our faces, the more I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something so familiar about him.

After our greasy dinner, Sam fell into a well deserved food coma. I quietly cleaned up the living room a bit and I headed to the shower to wash away the sweat of the day and the pizza grease from my hands.

I turn the shower on and let it warm up a bit before stepping in. Trying my best to be courteous and not wake Sam, I practically tiptoe around the apartment. My efforts may have been for not, however, because he’s half on the couch, half on the floor, snoring with a plate of pizza still in his hand. Am I worrying about grease stains on the rug? Yes. Is the sight of him in this state breathtakingly charming? Also, yes.

While the shower is warming, I step into my room to grab a change of clothes to take into the bathroom with me. I grab my favorite sweatpants, this corny Las Vegas t-shirt, and a change of panties.

I finished up my shower and stepped out, drying off my body. Before I could even blink twice—Sam was standing in the doorway, naked.

“Oh fuck! I am so sorry, I had no idea you were even here still”, he says, clenching his eyes closed. He’s cupping his junk in one hand and covering his eyes with the other, holding back a laugh.

I spin back to face the shower, cheeks turning bright red as I clutch the towel closer to my still dripping body. “It was bound to happen at some point, don’t worry yourself too much”

Although he wasn’t looking at me, I did catch a close glimpse of him before turning away. That deja vu feeling hit me like a ton of bricks again. Is it just me that has this feeling? Does he notice it too?

The room fills with a strange, yet somehow comfortable silence. Neither of us have moved. We both just stand there, feet apart from each other, my back to him- his eyes closed—or so I thought.

I chance a look over my shoulder to assess the situation and to my surprise he’s staring back at me. That’s when I notice it–his pendant. It was the same brown quartz pendant from a few weeks ago at that frat party. Should I say something? Does he even remember me? Or will he think I’m crazy for remembering him for such a small detail? I decide to see how far I can take this curiosity.

“So, are you still interested in showering? Or is something else on your mind?” I ask. He gives me a playful grin right before closing the gap between us in two quick strides.  I gasp as he grabs me. One hand on my hip, guiding me, the other around my throat, pinning me to the bathroom wall. This is a very different version of him than I experienced the first time, but I’m going to let this play out.

I watch his eyes flicker down to my lips a few times, both of our mouths open, breath mingling in the inch of space between us. Surprising me again, Sam picks me up, arms hooked under my knees, and forcefully sits me on the bathroom counter. He’s panting now as his fingers slowly trace down, closer to my core. All the while, not once breaking eye contact. He raises one eyebrow, simultaneously darting his tongue out to wet his lips, silently asking for permission to continue the work his fingers have started. I nod once, eagerly giving in. His cheek is pressed to mine then, fingers finally reaching their destination. As soon as he feels me, he’s moaning in my ear, “fuck you’re so wet already, what’s got you in such a good mood?” That does it for me and I reach between us, quickly grabbing his dick and start stroking it, up and down, as I watch him start to unravel before me. I slow my motions, careful to not let him get there yet. I learned my lesson the first time. But has he?

He starts kissing my neck, then, biting playfully every so often, followed by a light press against my throat with his thumb. With each move he makes, I can feel myself growing thirstier and thirstier for him. His hand moves its way down my body, grabbing my breasts by the handful and flicking his tongue against the hardened buds of my nipples. I let out a strangled moan and his eyes find mine again “Yeah? I know you like that.” he teases.

My head tips back as he drops to his knees in front of me, grabbing my hips. The veins on the tops of his hands protruding in the most obscene way. Pulling my center against his face almost sends me into orbit. I can feel his every breath against me, and damn was he good at this. While tracing a figure eight with his tongue through my folds, he starts pumping two fingers in and out of me, grabbing and pulling my hips closer to himself with his free hand. “Feels so good, Sam. Just a little longer” I breathe. He stops to take a breath and kisses his way back up my torso, reaching my lips again. As the kiss deepens, I tug on his bottom lip with my teeth, causing him to huff out a breath directly into my mouth.

“Fuck it” he smiles and lifts me up again. I squeal as he brings us both (shockingly gracefully) down to the floor. My back immediately arches off the tile and I inhale a sharp breath.

“Cold!” I whimper “cold, cold cold cold cold!”

“Shit, sorry” he laughs and pulls my discarded towel to lay under my back. Now normally, I’d prefer the bed. But fuck, something about him is so intoxicating that I cant bring myself to care. “Do you, uhh?” He looks around the room.

“Oh shit, yeah- under the sink.” He opens the cupboard door and roots around until he finds the box of condoms. Ripping one open with his teeth, he slips it on and I watch as he slowly rolls it on. I know he knows I’m staring because he really seems to be making a show of it. He starts kissing me again and I can feel myself getting more and more restless.

“Please, Sam just fuck me.” I practically beg. He sucks hard on my neck once more before lining himself up with me and starts pumping in and out at a perfect pace.

“Fuck you feel so good, I fit perfectly” He groans, his lips brushing my ear.

“Oh my god” I whine. My back starts arching, legs start shaking, and before I know it, I blurt out “I’m gonna come Sam, just a little more”, I reach a hand down between us to rub fast, small circles over my clit. His hand knocks mine out of the way and he replaces it with his own.

“No, no” he smirks at me. “I’m finishing right this time.” And there it is. The confirmation of questions left unasked. He does recognize me. I start to laugh in knowing response, but it’s cut short and replaced by a borderline pornographic moan as he lifts my leg up around his hip, causing him to go even deeper, hitting that spot inside me at the most perfect angle. “Come on. Let go, baby” He encourages me as his pace picks up a bit. I start seeing stars, letting my release wash over me. I feel that tingling warmth start like a fire in my belly and spread over my entire body. Before I know it, he’s doubled over me again, coming into the condom. We lay there for a moment, catching our breath as he strokes my hair.

He gently slips out of me and I hiss at the feeling of loss. He stands up and reaches his hand down to help me up. On his face is the most irritatingly sexy, shit-eating grin. He reaches around me to turn the shower back on. “Now, was that better than your showerhead?”

Part 2 is out now, you can read it here!

[winterspiderpurrs]

Can I request where mob boss tony fucks prostitute peter with bodyguard bucky! Pls

So I haven't written smut before prob would be a while before I get to that point. BUT I wanted to answer the asks and just decided to type up whats leads up to this awesome pairing... Hopefully you still like it!

--------------------------------------

Peter was broke, and homeless. He has been couch surfing for several months now, and even though he worked two jobs as well as attending online school. There just was not any way for him to get out of his student loans and medical debt and afford a place of his own after Aunt May passed.

Which brings us to the point where MJ told Peter about this..... Working boy service. He looks young, nerdy and adorable and does not think he is that attractive but it could work. Sure he has had sex before but nothing anything remotely like this so he isn't sure why he is even going to try. MJ says you can interview, and they will actually set you up with a room if they think you can do the job. Modern day brothel so he wouldn't be out on the streets. Something about how the boss wants to keep his eyes on his property. Peter would get a contract and everything if this pans out for him. Seems a safer option.

After waiting out side of this older but classy restaurant. Peter wearing his best 2nd hand suit, he had put a lil bit of mascara on to make his eyes stand out a bit more and adds a hint of a fem touch to is already soft features. Stands at the hostess stand " Hi, I have a reservation. Meeting uh for umm " he digs into his pocket and pulls out the business card with a scratch name scribbled on it with the time and place " for Winter?"

The hostess eyes widen a little and nods " Right this way, your right on time. He is waiting for you in one of the reserved rooms." Winding their way through the restaurant Peter is lead to a closed door. The hostess, reach out and fluffs Peters hair a little, making his curls go a little messy. She smiles at his inquiring look, she knocks on the door before opening "You guest is here Sir. Please give us a ring when your are ready to order. Thank you" she gently pushes Peter into the room and closes the door behind him. He gulps a little when he hears the locking sound.

Sitting across the room is one of the most intimidating men he has ever seen. He is wearing a leather jacket but with only one sleeve at he spots the metal arm. He looks at the mans blue eyes. He blinks a few times before moving his gaze to a spot on the wall behind the mans head.

The man tabs his cigarette on the ashtray and tilts his head a little looking up and down at Peter. " Your clean. No drug problem. Just broke. Little thin... But not bad off. Friends helping?" Peter blushes a little and nods his head " uh Yes Sir"

The man chuckles, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cell phone. He tabs a few things before holding it up to his ear.

" Hey Boss. We are about to come out the back. Tell Happy to close the partition and for Clint to sit up front."

There is a pause and he smirks " Yes Sir "

He stands to move infront of Peter. He reaches out and grips the back of his neck and pulls him flush against him. Chuckling as Peter gasps. " Call this the interview, Boss likes to watch. If he likes what he sees.... Which I don't doubt he would... He gets a sample as well. And if all goes well and you still want to work, we can talk contract. What do you say Doll?"

Peter stares up at him, trying to fight the blush off of his face. " Sounds... Sounds fine...Sir"

The Winter Soldier aka James " Bucky " Barnes, chuckles and pulls Peter toward the back of the room, a hidden door is revealed and they are standing in the alley behind the restaurant where a limousine is waiting for them. Bucky opens the door and and inside reveals famous Mob Boss Tony Stark. He peers out toward Peter, lowering his red shades and smirks.

" Well look at you all dressed up for an interview. Cute. "

Bucky nudges Peter a little, and then they both get into the car. Tony leans back in his seat, taking a sip of from his whiskey glass " So... Peter... Looks like your going for a ride. Don't worry, old Buck there has the perfect seat for you"

By the end of the night, one ruined back seat, and messy sheets later. Peter does not sign a contract. Peter's debts and his schooling is paid for with in the next 24hrs. And he has been moved into a condo that varied members of Tony's mob stay at.

Peter isn't surprised that his place has two connecting doors. One belongs to Bucky, the other is where the boss stays when he is in the city.

[adcfan]

WARNED

He could clearly tell from the slightest wrinkle of irritation adoring the top left of her pale forehead that she is beyond annoyed. How could he blame her? After all it was him who lured the bird out of its comfortable nest in the middle of a tough night. From the height he could perceive the darker shades of her shadows dancing along the way she traced making him more curious to explore the limit of the demon’s braveness.

The edges of his lips pulled up to carve an honest smile as his eyes momentarily rested on the dagger resting against her waist that he once offered her in the middle of a battle, a year ago.

With a loud thud he made his presence noticeable startling her to the core in the process. His armor blazed a bright shade of jade green, bathed in the late moonlight that managed to get the taste of his attire. His eyes searched hers involuntarily, seeking to find any glimpse of game she or the titans might have planned to play on him. But all he could find was curiosity.

Curious? Is she really curious?    

“So, you decided to show up in the middle of a young, wanting night, far from your protective shell behalf of a demons’ call”. If it wasn’t for the mask he is wearing, she could see the imperceptible grim plastered over his face with ease. “And here I thought ravens aren’t creatures of the night”, his brows made a childish hunch testing her temper further more than she could actually take.

“What do you want?”, her voice remained cold as she tried her best to control all the urge to take him down on the very spot. His cape danced in unity with her robe as he approached her a little more without her noticing for a very long second. “Aren’t you forgetting a very special day, beloved?”. And that was definitely a hint of sadness that was sprinkled all over the Al Ghul’s tone.

Right, as if he could actually feel sad over anything with all the blood in his hands.

“I am not in for a game, Al Ghul. I have got a whole city to save and a good night’s sleep to resume, but here I am, in the middle of an abandoned area with a ruthless assassin who threatened to explode the best half of the city and what’s next? Seizure?”. Almost a devilish chuckle escaped his lips as if he had conquered the entire world.

“Oh for gods shake, little bird. Do you really think I will abandon the best of all nights in Nanda Parbat to blast a worthless city like Kansas?”, now he is definitely getting on her nerves. “But I must say, I had half a mind to blow the Titans bridge five minutes ago”, his all time devilish smile still painted his arrogant look. Raven barely recognized how Damian managed to corner her against the cold wall whose uneven surface pressed itself against her flawless skin dripping it with the night’s best dew.

“I am not asking you again, Ra’s. Tell me what you want with me before I banish you into a dimension of never return”.

“You hurt me, beloved. Don’t you remember the anniversary of our marriage?”

Married? With him? A year ago?

“If this is some sort of silly joke, you better stop it right now, Ra’s. It’s definitely not funny.”, her voice trembled with doubts by each passing second. She lingered over her left ring finger as if she has seen her own hands for the first time in all her life. No ring? Well that’s a relief.

He is just kidding or may be…

Or may be not

“Do I look like one who makes senseless jokes like the green monkey your tower owns”. 

Thanks to Gar, at least his pride is hurt a little.

“I didn’t say that, but if you insist on it… I may”, and she sure as hell liked hurting his weak point - his pride.

“Then how about I insisting on maintaining a decent distance between Conner and you, beloved”, for the first time in almost half an hour his words had the true taste of jealous.

“You are my wife and it is my business to keep flirty hybrids like him away from you. Well, if you don’t have to do it the easy way then I will have the pleasure of teaching him decency in my own way, beloved”. Is the night getting unnaturally warmer or…

Oh no! When did he get this closer to her.

And how the hell she didn’t notice it for this long.

If not for the pitch dark night sky, she could actually feel herself blacking out.

“If it is Conner the one you have your problems with then why the hell did you make me come here?” To reveal that she may be married to the Ra’s of League of Assassin’s a year ago? Probably, yes.

“I thought you would never ask. Let’s say I am here to get a gift”

Right, she barely knew that she got married and now he wants a gift in the middle of a night?

“I don’t have a ring”, the words spilled out even before she could realize it.

May be she lost her brain just like Beast Boy.

“I don’t think it is mandatory for a married couple have to propose during anniversaries, beloved”, his breath flowed through her entire being warming up all her dark desires that might love to make him hers and only hers even if…

Stop. Stop right there Raven.    

“I mean, I don’t even have a ring and how could I be your wife when I don’t even have a ring”

Way to go Raven, what’s next a Priest?

“The dagger, Raven. It means a sealed bond in my heritage. A bond made between a husband and a wife, which you willing took to save the pathetic Titans a year ago in the League of Shadows base.” His voice grew more husky and his breathe drove her senses away as he nibbled at her ear lobe. She was supposed to be mad, she was supposed to blast him to pieces and scatter every inch of his being at different dimensions for revealing something as important as being married, but his tone - well, that’s definitely not helping.

“What now? You want me to quit being a Titan, take sides with you and go against them?”

“Baby steps, beloved. Baby steps”. His left hand toyed with the hem of her dress, further breaking the already half broken control towards her urging needs that pooled in very being.  

“Just a kiss and a promise to keep that coward Conner away from you will do”.  She could feel the cold air of the young night kissing her wide spread pale skin that already missed the warmth touch of the assassin.

“And if I resist?”

“You really think you could resist me, beloved? Since it is our anniversary I will be generous enough to make another request”. His eyes grew darker with every words as his katana slightly battered against the cold wall.

“How about blasting the Titans tower to the ground while that stupid Gar and Jaime are trying with their half-celled brains to defuse the bomb or how about giving black fire all the 18 ways to kill Kori like a true assassin in the middle of their fight right now in Kansas or how about giving Slade Wilson the true identity of Dick Grayson and his fellow bat clan or how about letting Conner suffer in the hands of Bizarre Superman, left alone to die by a Kryptonite stabbing.” He hummed the last few parts as he withdraw from the spot he previously stood.  

“On second thought how about all of the above?”

“You are kidding. I would have received an alert signal at least if one of these is happening right now”.

“You mean this?” Damian raised a small communicator from his pocket still humming like an undisturbed teenager enjoying his long drive to no destiny at all.

“Give it back”. She raised her hand trying to snatch the communicator but in vain.

“Did I forget to mention that you have to be a grown woman to snatch a stuff, beloved”. His eye brow arched itself up.

That’s it. She could bear all of his sarcasms, all of his threats and even all of his flirts but not even for the shake of Azar would she let this damn Demon Spawn comment on her height and hurt her pride in nothing more than mere seconds. That’s not going to happen. Not today.

Raven rose to her tip-toes grabbing Damian’s collar to support her in the process but accidentally twirled their legs and slipped right on top of him. Their lips were locked like the mere existence of one depends on the other, when Raven realized the state she has put herself into.

Yeah, that’s how you snatch a communicator from a tall guy, who threatens to blast your whole family.

She would be cheating herself the entire time if she hesitated to accept that she did like the Demon’s head for a reasonably long time now. But she is definitely not going to let her pride get hurt.

“So, you got your gift. Now defuse the bomb and un-mess every mess you made”

“And all it took was calling you - short”. Damian let an almost an inaudible chuckle escape his throat.

He pulled out the dagger from Raven’s waist band and seethed it properly. “Don’t hurt yourself playing with this doll, beloved”.

“My team…”, Raven question was cut short by Damian as he spoke.

“They are safe. For now”

BOOM…

From the frequency of the sound wave she could say that it was near the Titans Tower.

“Well, except for one I guess”

With one last peck on her lips he disappeared into the shadows as if he never existed a few minutes ago.

--

Thank Azar!

There was not a single scratch on the tower. Not even one. At least he kept few of his words.

But the real horror stroke her when she felt no living presence inside the tower.

“Umm.. Rae what are you doing up late in the night?”, Dick asked as he and the other Titans entered the tower with handful of shopping bags. “You are all fine?”. She will never spell it out loud but deep down she knew that she couldn’t stand their loss. She blinked a few times to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

“Yeah, we are fine. It’s a little cold out there. But don’t worry we won’t catch a cold, Rae. If that’s what you are worried about”, Gar uttered with no care in the world as he glanced through the contents of the fridge.

“Where have you been?” was all she managed to ask when she realized that she wasn’t dreaming.

“We were out…”, Kori barely had a chance to finish when Raven added “Crime fighting?”

“Ah… shopping, Raven. I don’t think it is a custom on Earth to crime fight every time you step out into the public, is it Dick?”.

“Unless or otherwise you are in Gotham, no”, Dick replied as he loaded the fridge with the contents of the grocery bags.

“So, where is Conner?”, inquired Jaime as he entered the main hall. “Isn’t he in the tower?”, Kori added.

“There wasn’t anyone in the tower when I arrived”, Raven replied as a loud thud followed their conversation.

“Conner!”, Gar yelled as he reached him. The rest of the Titans followed by.

--

“What the hell happened dude?”, asked Gar as he tried to touch the bruise near his right eye.

“OUCH!”

“That’s just a small bruise, Conner. I have seen worse”, Dick replied while analyzing his wounds.

“And a broken wrist”, Conner added trying to rise his wounded hand but in vain.

“It’s just a minor injury, amigo. You will be alright as soon as the Sun’s back”, Jaime reassured him while attending to his wounds.

“Here, let me heal you”, Raven offered taking a step towards but the wound deepened as if it was being cut from inside out. Conner could barely resist the urge to break the table he sat on.

“Raven, is that a Kryptonite you are wearing?”, Dick pointed at the green stone that somehow perfectly settled around her neck.

“If that’s causing our flirty Superboy to yell like a mad man then it is definitely a Kent-repellent”, Jaime added.

“A kryptonite? Not again”, Conner banged his head against the wall as if that would make his day any better.

If you don’t have to do it the easy way then I will have the pleasure of teaching him decency in my own way.

“Raven, I know you mean no harm but I don’t think Conner could take any more kryptonite today. So, would you mind…”, Gar tried to get rid of the kryptonite that adorned her neck.

“Here let me try”, Kori flared a small star bolt which seemed to have no effect on it either.

“It seems you have to stay away from Conner for a few days until we find a way to remove that thing off your neck. By the way, it seems to have no effect on you Raven. You may leave, we will take care of Conner”

Seems like he played a particular demon played his part well at keeping Raven away from Conner.

Raven made a short nod and walked towards her room. In the background, she could clearly hear the boys filling Conner with questions about the attack.

“So, was it Bizarre the reason behind this?”, Dick asked as he finished cleaning the wounds.

“No, it was a masked man with a Katana”, Conner replied.

“And you - a bullet proof being got this from a Katana?”, Gar’s curiosity reached its peak when Conner made Kryptonian curses under his breathe.

“Stop touching my wound, Gar”

“You call yourself a super but you can’t stand a broken wrist” Gar arched both of his eye brows wanting for a genuine explanation.

“I have not even once been injected, Pea-brain” was all Raven could hear, when she disappeared into her own shadows. 

                                                                 - Samuel Damian Fernandez

Hi, everyone! This is just a one shot, not a great one but worth giving a try. Like I have mentioned before English is my 8th priority language. So, if you find faults in my work just let me know. Also, share your thoughts on this one shot, so I may get an idea for future modifications. 

Punardarśaāya 😉 👋

[robininthelabyrinth]

Hello! I saw a post that said your prompts are open, but if they’re not yet, please don’t worry about this. Anyway, if you’re interested, please take this ‘Wen Ruohan appoints Lan Wangji his next heir with being 1) impressed by him, or 2) bested by him’ Lan Wangji is less than thrilled about this

Modern AU

“I hate this,” Wei Wuxian grumbled. “This is so dumb.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to enjoy being kidnapped,” Jiang Cheng said, his arms crossed over his chest. He was scowling. He hadn’t stopped scowling. Nobody blamed him one bit. “It’s not like it’s something that gets advertised in travel brochures or anything.”

“Listen, if it was like in the movies, it’d be one thing,” Wei Wuxian argued back. Lan Wangji suspected he was just arguing in order to hear himself speak, but since Lan Wangji also enjoyed hearing him speak, he didn’t mind. “Getting snatched into a van! Taken to a mysterious secondary location via plane! Villain monologues! Handcuffs! Zipties! Ropes! Chains!”

Lan Wangji wondered if Wei Wuxian had a thing for bondage. He would be okay with that.

Very okay with that.

“Wei Wuxian…” Jiang Cheng started.

“But noooooo, we don’t get jungles or the ‘most dangerous game’ or sexy people in skimpy swimsuits –”

Lan Wangji had a bathing suit. It wasn’t that skimpy, though.

“- we just get kidnapped by a deranged politician who’s decided that the best way to figure out who deserves to be his heir is via a stupid reality show!”

“I think it’s based on the Apprentice,” Nie Huaisang said from where he was sitting. “Possibly the Bachelor? I actually don’t watch that much reality television.”

“You watch the Great British Bake Off like a fiend,” Jiang Cheng pointed out.

“First, Great British Bake Off doesn’t count. Second, if this was a bake-off, your sister would win, instead of not even being here. Is that what you want?”

Both Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian shuddered.

“So, we’re all in agreement that the goal is to lose, right?” Wei Wuxian said. “No one actually wants the job of being Wen Ruohan’s heir, right?”

Nods all around.

“Doesn’t he have kids already?” Jin Zixuan wondered.

“Wen Xu and Wen Chao,” Lan Wangji said shortly.

“…yeah, fair, I’d be looking elsewhere too. They’re pretty awful – dumb and dumber. But surely there’s someone else in the family…?”

“I think they’ve been disowned. Anyway, who would want power if it means putting up with Wen Ruohan?”

Nods all around a second time.

“How will this work?” Nie Huaisang asked. “Are there, like – contests?”

There were.

Stupid ones.

Lan Wangji did his utmost best to mess up the archery competition – archery? In this day and age? – but he wasn’t quite willing to turn around and wildly shoot backwards the way Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng were doing, if only because the possibility of collateral damage made him shudder. He focused his arrows on a small corner just outside the target.

(Nie Huaisang’s arrows impressively did not reach the target even once. When asked how he had managed to pull that off despite being closely monitored to make sure he was actually trying, he proudly pointed to years of practice in fucking up his brother’s efforts at getting him to train.)

Lan Wangji was also incapable of getting a low score in the calligraphy competition, although Nie Huaisang shared in his misfortune there – being an artist did not necessarily translate to good penmanship, but in Nie Huaisang’s case it did – and naturally no one could quite compare to the atrocity that Wei Wuxian had created.

“It’s still recognizable as words, in my view,” Nie Huaisang declared after several minutes of close study. “So it should be fine to submit…you should really consider taking up abstract art, though. It’s quite nice, from that perspective.”

“Thank you,” Wei Wuxian said. “I think. Or was that an insult?”

The mathematics segment was even more disastrous for Lan Wangji – his uncle had brought him up with a strict prohibition against lying, including on test answers – and then they’d brought out music…

They didn’t even give Lan Wangji a chance to sabotage his chance, opting to just play a Youtube clip of one of his public performances on the guqin.

He was very, very good at guqin.

At least they’d done the same for Wei Wuxian and his flute – he ended up getting ranked first in music, even above Lan Wangji – but that wasn’t going to be enough to overcome his middle-of-the-road performances in the other subject.

“I think you’re going to win,” Jiang Cheng told Lan Wangji. “I’m very sorry. Seriously, and without sarcasm: I’m very, very sorry.”

Lan Wangji said nothing, but apparently his face managed to convey his misery effectively enough because Wei Wuxian came over and gave him a hug.

Lan Wangji enjoyed the hug, at least.

“Don’t worry,” Nie Huaisang said. He was fanning himself again – where did he even get a fan? Lan Wangji thought all three of the ones he’d seen Nie Huaisang pull out of his pockets had been confiscated, and surely there was a limit to how many “back-ups” a person plausibly needed – and reclining under the shade, having been thoroughly knocked out of the running during the physical portion of the competition. He hadn’t even had the courtesy to be concerned: he was, as always, secure in his uselessness. “We’ve been here for quite a while, haven’t we? Our families will be along soon enough to pick us up, and then we can forget all this.”

“What if they can’t, though?” Jiang Cheng said, wringing his hands. “I mean, we all hate him, he’s awful, yes, but he still has influence and power, for some unknown reason –”

“I still can’t believe there are people who support him. Least of all nearly half the cultivation world!”

“Less than half. Remember, we just counted.” 

“Yes, yes, I know, but still. Regardless, don’t worry – it’ll be fine.”

“Surely if our families were going to do something, they’d be here already?” Jin Zixuan asked.

Jiang Cheng pointed at him. “See? Even the peacock is worried!”

“Also, what if Wen Ruohan wants to keep Lan Wangji as his heir even after we’re rescued?” Wei Wuxian wanted to know. He looked worried, which Lan Wangji appreciated. “Listen, my future boyfriend and I are not going to live somewhere named something as classless and pretentious as the, and I quote, ‘Nightless City’, okay? I refuse.”

…future boyfriend?

“The Nightless City is a perfectly decent name,” Nie Huaisang said. “For a Bond villain. Which I’m not convinced Wen Ruohan isn’t.”

Boyfriend? As in – romantic partner boyfriend?

“A Bond villain wouldn’t be this stupid,” Jiang Cheng argued.

Wei Ying’s future boyfriend?

“I dunno,” Wei Wuxian said. “There were some real stinkers, especially in the 70s…”

Did he mean Lan Wangji?

“Can we get back on subject?” Jin Zixuan wanted to know. “Lan Wangji is on the verge of being selected to be Wen Ruohan’s heir, and I’m not sure that process doesn’t involve brainwashing at some point.”

Wait, why was it future boyfriend? Couldn’t they be boyfriends now?

“I would fight them first,” Wei Wuxian declared. “All of them. Immediately!”

“Or we could escape. I know the guards took our cell phones, but I pickpocketed Wen Zhuliu’s and the GPS says we’re actually just at a warehouse outside the city.”

“We’d need a distraction, though…”

“How about we release the giant turtle?”

“Wait, that thing in the moat is a turtle? I thought it was a snake.”

“I don’t know why you expect me to know anything about amphibians.”

“It’s not – they’re not even remotely – a snake has no legs! What is wrong with you people?!”

“Unrelated, but has anyone noticed that none of the girls got brought in? Isn’t that sexist?”

“Like Wen Ruohan being sexist is a surprise –”

“I still think we need to do something before he tries to adopt Lan Wangji –”

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” Lan Wangji asked Wei Wuxian, who blinked at him, and then beamed. “Or maybe make out in the corner while everyone’s arguing?”

That seemed like something they’d both enjoy.

It was, too, right up until someone did unleash the giant turtle, at which point it was mostly screaming and splashing and all of their families coming to their rescue at just the right time.

But Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were dating now, so overall, a good experience.

Well, mostly. Wen Ruohan sent him countless letters for the next two months asking him to consider coming back for an internship (to be paid in "experience" and "exposure", of course).

Lan Wangji burned them all.

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

Things you said when you thought I was asleep

Request from a friend on IG | V/Jihyun Kim x gender neutral reader | Words: 1095 | prompt list

The cabin was quiet, Seven and Vanderwood were in another room, leaving you with the man currently asleep in the bed before you. Perhaps it was just the lighting but it felt to you as if the life had been drained out of him; his mint hair appeared more like a cool shade of blue than its usual semi-cyan. It almost matched the splashes you'd seen covering his clothes and the cell floor when Rika had taken you down to her castle's basement, save for the eerie glow that set it starkly apart from the "elixir" Ray had offered you.

Thanks to Vanderwood, the toxins had mostly left V's body, but he still needed rest. He constantly drifted in between consciousness and sleep, and you hadn't wanted to leave him alone, dreading the thought of him waking up with no one around to reassure him. So you sat by his side, refusing to leave even as he slept. Occasionally you would take his hand in yours, in hope that it might ease his subconscious mind.

Nursing him during the day, it was easier to take your mind off the events that had taken place over the past several days. It was in moments like this when you waited silently that thoughts caused your head to spin and reel, straining to process everything that had happened in such a short space of time. Ray had been right in that it truly felt like forever ago when you first followed a stranger's words to that mysterious and undoubtedly dangerous yet hauntingly beautiful place and began chatting to V and the rest of RFA.

Images and feelings burned your memory like a silent wildfire. Rika's agonised, tear-streaked face as you snuck away. The feeling of V's hand desperately tugging your own, Ray's panicked shrieks and cries. You felt like you were being torn apart in different directions and it was getting difficult to handle but you did your best to stay patient.

You wanted nothing more than for all this to be over peacefully. For no one else to get hurt. You felt a dull ache in your head.

You could attempt to distract yourself, maybe by checking the chatroom… but Ray might notice and you didn't have the energy to talk to him right now. Not when your mind was swimming like this.

It wasn't that you didn't care for him at all, you still worried for him and the fact that it was evident that he was being manipulated. But there was no doubt that whatever he'd done to V had been with intent to cause harm. Intentionally or not, Ray had guilted you into feeling bad for leaving suddenly, but frankly you were far more concerned with ensuring V's recovery.

You felt your eyes sting slightly. What could he possibly have done to make them both resent him so much? Even Seven, who had previously seemed to trust him whole-heartedly, sounded doubtful and implied he had a lot of explaining to do.

The V you know was kind and gentle, you could hear the smile in his voice when he greeted you over the phone, the slightly flustered tone when you complimented him. His voice was even and soothing and wrapped around your heart like a comforting blanket. He spoke to you with warmth even when you called in the dead of night. And you'd inevitably learned just how hard he was trying to assure your safety. You could tell that he cared deeply for his friends and wanted them to be healthy and happy. And he'd made you feel so welcome, like you were one of them. Like you would always have a home with RFA.

Thinking of that brought a small smile to your lips, and the churning in your mind subsided a bit.

The man shifted in his sleep, likely consumed by another fever nightmare.

'Mm…. Sun.. Rika….. Sae... nnh… sorry…'

You frowned a little and extended a gentle hand toward his face, brushing a few blue strands aside and placing the back of it against his forehead. His skin didn't burn as fiercely as it had before, but he was almost certainly feverish nonetheless. You were tempted, so tempted, to press your lips tenderly against the warm skin as you removed your hand, but you held back, instead taking a small face cloth from the bedside table. You briefly left to soak it in cold water, squeezing it out and returning to place it on his forehead.

You opened a window to let in a gentle breeze, hoping his fever would come down somewhat. It was a hot spring evening and you could hear the low buzz of crickets outside.

Settling again at the man's side, you gazed at his face, tracing his features with your tired eyes. You couldn't help but note how handsome he looked, even in such a fragile state.

'You're going to be fine,' you said calmly but firmly, aware that he couldn't acknowledge your words, which may have been to reassure yourself more than anything.

'We're going to be fine. You're going to get better and when you do, we'll work through this whole mess, step by step, together. And you won't sacrifice yourself or have to keep secrets anymore and everyone will be okay and we'll live happy lives and I'll tell you everything I feel and-'

The crack in your voice caught your attention before the tears burning your eyes, blurring your vision and threatening to topple out. You quickly rubbed them away and took a deep breath.

'You did all you could to protect me. Now it's my turn to take care of you.'

You continued speaking words of comfort, eventually talking about all manner of trivial things, even if you believed no one was listening but you.

Little did you know your words reached him, just barely, like sunlight piercing thick fog at the bottom of a deep chasm where he wandered through the murky depths of the hazy plane between waking and dreams. He could scarcely grasp your voice but he wanted to latch onto it, to cling to it like a lifeline as his body fought the lasting effects of the poison substances he'd been forced to consume. A part of him wanted to give in, to throw himself further into the abyss. But your presence pleaded with him to stay.

Your voice, though at times distorted, and constantly slipping in and out of his subconscious, was enough for him to hold on as he let you pull him through.

[ill-skillsgard]

Anything faust!valter

I usually don't enjoy vague requests like this, but I was writing a Faust!V piece anyway. So, I'll just put this here.

+

Warning: 18+ smut, mature language, anti-religious themes. **In this part: consensual sleep sex, family conflict, angst.**

Summary: Faust and Faith get caught in the act, propelling Faith to do the one thing she never thought herself capable: defy her father.

- Not based on Lords of Chaos. I use Faust!Valter’s likeness only as inspiration.

Read more Faust x Faith here [x]

A warm prodding awakened Faith in the early hours. Faust was pressed against her naked back, chest and stomach soft and contoured to her spine. Lower down, he nudged her with a growing erection. It twitched across her tailbone once, twice, and so on, in reflection with the man's heartbeat. He felt enormous behind her. Drawing his knees up, his thighs balled her and squeezed.

His breath spread over the back of her neck, followed by a crawling moan. Faust curled his hips under hers, seeking out the sleek warmth between her legs. They had fallen asleep with the TV on, and the same non-stop pornographic advertisements played with the volume low. The ruddy morning glow swirled up the moans, tenderizing the bedded bodies in low heat.

Faust whispered through strands of hair, "can I be inside of you?"

Faith raised her right leg, providing him access which he took with a slow but forceful stab. He trusted her whimpers and went along with each one, finding a steady rhythm guided by her noises. Sleep still licked at his eyelids, teaming with comfort to lead Faust back into a restful embrace. Even her enclosing wetness wasn't enough to keep his eyes open.

This process repeated. Faust fought lazily to stay awake, to stay hard inside of her. Faith didn't seem to mind the five-minute doses of lovemaking with a reprieve to doze. Car alarms, porn trailers and a gentle buzzing went off, ignored by the sleepy couple.

Faust picked up the pace eventually and lifted Faith's leg for less resistance. He slammed into her, wrapping one long arm around her midriff to keep her from bouncing across the bed. Anchored, Faith let the stretch soothe her to the core. Having him inside, muted and reserved to the pleasure and not the filth, was a rarity she longed to savour. Too often, Faust spent their time together teasing, making her feel like the hungry one, the desperate one. Now, he was the one who couldn't hold back.

"Faith... I'm gonna come soon."

Before she replied, he angled her face to smother her mouth with a kiss. His lips devoured her moans, tongue licking hers. He sent his hand down to her groin and pressed his index and middle finger together to create the perfect cushion for her clit.

"Does that feel good?" He asked.

"Yes," she smiled. "Yes, that's amazing."

"Mm, good. I need you to come at the same time as me."

The request struck Faith softer than his usual demands. Faust always told her exactly what to do, at the precise time, through clenched teeth, and if she failed to meet his expectations, he hissed and scolded her. Not this time. Faust paused his movements to get her up to speed.

"Mm, more, please," Faith said.

He fed her half his length. Anything more, and she would clench and mewl. Faust didn't want that kind of thing today. Working her clit with his fingers and pumping himself into her with care, Faust forgot everything.

Faith's cell phone continued to rumble. The first few rounds of vibrations had gone unnoticed, but now Faith was starting to worry. It broke her concentration, robbed Faust's caresses of poignancy. It was Sunday morning, and she hadn't checked in with her parents in a few days. By the shade of light filtering through the rust-coloured drapes, she deduced it couldn't be later than noon.

"Faust...I should answer my phone."

"No, baby. Just stay here. Get close with me."

"I can't," she said. "What if it's..."

"Don't answer. What's more important? Me, or him? You're a big girl. Make your own decisions."

Faith closed her eyes and waited for the vibrations to cease. Faust had not stopped slowly easing his cock inside of her, then out and back in. He delivered one stroke that was harder than the others and hooked her attention back to him.

"Come on, beautiful. Help me come."

It was another hour before Faust came to his shuddering end and spilled a shocking amount of cum both inside Faith and between her thighs. It dripped onto the bed, soaked the sheets and continued dribbling from her cunt even as he climbed down the bed to position his face there. He licked her from hole to clit, over and over until she moaned animatedly.

"Oh my god, Faust."

"You like that, baby? Let me lick that cum-soaked pussy for you."

Faust pinched the sensitive crest, revealing her clit and applying pressure. He used the months he'd spent eating her out to pull out all the tricks. He teased her opening with his middle finger, flicking her clit periodically to make her nerves jump.

"So much fucking cum in there. Oh, it's so nice watching it all dripping out of that perfect hole."

Again, the commotions of the outside world faded into obscurity while they played in their private bubble. Not even the indecency on the TV screen compared to Faust's green eyes watching her reactions while a perfect pair of lips toyed with every inch of her womanhood. She stroked his long hair back, but the black tresses fell over his face until he shouldered them out of the way.

"Are you ready to come for me, Faith?"

"Mm, yes. I'm ready."

"Yeah? What do you want? My fingers a bit harder? Suck your clit?"

"Both," she gasped.

Faust served two equally measured stimulations, enhanced by the slippery sound of his tongue. The peak fell into line, nudged forward by the mix of incentives working together to tickle her beyond pleasure. The noise delighted Faith, filled her with arousal, and she twisted and writhed as her climax approached. Matched with Faust's deep moans, the television and cars passing by on the street faded into obscurity. All thoughts of her neglected cell phone disappeared.

All of this smashed against an invisible wall and shattered before realization. There was a temperamental rapping at the door, followed by the boom of Faith's name from the other side. Faith shot up and away from Faust, clutching for a pillow to block her nudity.

"Faith! You better get out here, girl!"

"Daddy?"

"Oh, shit," said Faust. "Go to the bathroom. Now. Go on!"

Faith scrambled off the bed and grabbed her shredded panties from where Faust threw them the night before. In her haste, she missed her top and only brought her skirt into the washroom for coverage.

Faust wiped his glistening mouth, let the pounding at the door go unanswered until he caught his breath and climbed into his boxers. Prepared to face Stan, he wrenched open the door and found the man fuming, ready to throw his fists.

"Where is she?" Stan asked, bowling through the door and into the motel room where pornography still flashed on the TV.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Faith! Get out here now."

"You need to get the fuck out, right now. Faith's not here."

"Bullshit! Her phone's right there on the table."

Stan went to the bathroom door and banged hard enough the wood jumped from its frame. Faust hauled the man away from the door and met swift resistance.

"You can't be in here!"

"Don't tell me what I can't do. You have my daughter!"

"Daddy, please stop!" Faith cried from the other side of the bathroom door.

Stan glared at Faust with heat snapping behind his eyes. Not one to succumb to intimidation, Faust planted his feet and motioned for the man to leave.

"Don't make this violent, Stan. Faith's with me. She's a fucking adult."

The father noticed the television and spat on the carpet.

"She will never see you again if I have anything to do with it."

"That's just it... There's nothing you can do. So, I suggest you get the fuck out of here before something bad happens."

Stan ignored Faust and knocked on the door again.

"Faith, get dressed. You're coming with me."

"Daddy, you have to leave. I don't have any clothes."

"You son of a bitch," Stan hissed. "What the fuck have you done to my daughter? First, you don't answer calls, then I find you in here fornicating with this scumbag? What the hell is wrong with you, Faith?"

"Look, man, she doesn't have any clothes. Get the fuck out so she can at least get dressed. Or do you plan on dressing her yourself?"

Stan ignored Faust's comments with a sneer. "Have you forgotten your phone's tracking? How did you think this would end, Faith? Your mother and I thought you were taken! Get dressed right now, young lady. You are in for the punishment of your life!"

Faust followed Stan outside and watched the preacher thrash his fists. He recognized the car in front and smirked. The father's anger spread, fuelling Faust's urge to retaliate.

"You'll never keep her away from me," said Faust with a laugh.

"Shut your mouth."

"Can't handle the truth, can you? You hate that she loves me. You hate the thought of someone like me with her."

Stan whipped a warning look at Faust. The air outside was cool and raised goosebumps over his bare skin, but inside, his guts boiled. Faust longed for a more violent reaction. He wanted fire and destruction.

"I fucked her. You've no idea how many times I've fucked her."

Faith made it outside in time to witness her father advance on Faust. She shrieked as Stan's fist made contact with Faust's jaw and sent him reeling backward. He clenched the side of his chin and laughed, blood already coating his teeth.

"Oh, nice shot, big man. Come on. Beat the shit out of me. Show your daughter how a man handles things."

"Get in the car, Faith," Stan pointed.

"No, Daddy. I'm not leaving."

"Faith! I said get in the car!"

"No, Daddy! I won't go with you!"

Faith ran to Faust and threw herself around him, burying her face under his arm. Faust popped his brows and snickered.

"It's okay, babe. I'm fine. It was a good punch, though. Enough for an assault charge."

Faust kissed the top of Faith's head, eyes pinned to Stan while he licked his teeth.

"Get over it, preacher. She's mine."

"Stop it! Both of you stop, right now!" Faith pushed off Faust and stood in the middle of them. "Daddy, you have to go. I'm not a baby, and I'm not going to church. You can move the whole family across the country if you want to, but I'm staying and going to school."

"You are not missing church," Stan said.

"I'm old enough to make my own decisions. And I'm disabling my phone's tracker. This is an invasion of my privacy. And Faust... You keep quiet, too! Both of you."

The manager of the motel stepped out of the office, interested in the source of the commotion but not concerned enough to call the police. Fights broke out on the property all the time. Drapes pulled back, and anonymous eyes surveyed the scene as well. Faith suddenly felt far too exposed to the possibility a gust of wind might lift her skirt and reveal her nakedness. She reserved to make a point to Faust to stop ruining her underwear, but that would have to wait.

"Get in your car, drive back home, and maybe I won't press charges, old man," Faust negotiated.

"I'm not leaving without my daughter."

"Fine. You can stay here and explain to the cops why you punched me in the face and how you're trying to abduct an adult who has already stated multiple times that she doesn't want to leave. I'm sure that will all sound really nice to your congregation."

"Faith... You have one more chance. Get in, or else," Stan opened the car door.

She shook her head while disbelief of her actions sickened her stomach. Not once had she ever defied her father. Before the morning's incident, she didn't believe she had it in her to refuse him. The sky didn't turn red, and the earth refused to break open and swallow her. Faith understood what Faust had been saying; she didn't have to listen to anyone but herself.

Defeated, Stan got into the family car, staring at his daughter through the windshield. His oldest daughter, who he barely recognized, returned the stare until he drove off. Once the car turned the corner and was out of sight, Faust began to laugh.

"Stop laughing! Why do you think this is funny?" Faith asked.

"I dunno. It just is."

"No, it's not! Do you understand the trouble I'm in? You don't know what my dad will do. I'll have to move! I can't afford my own place working part-time."

"Baby, don't worry. You're not moving away from me. I won't let you."

Faith's delayed reaction hit all at once, like a storm cloud bursting above her head. Fiery tears stung her eyes as panic erupted from within her ribcage.

"So, what? You're gonna let me move in with you? Live in your tiny room with your weird roommate, who you hate? Because I highly doubt Mister Solitary will want me around twenty-four seven. You already can't handle more than a couple of days around me at once."

"Faith...Baby, come on. Don't say that kind of shit. We'll find our own place, obviously."

"You don't have a job anymore! You quit your band!"

"Doesn't matter. Just trust me. Stop crying, and trust me, okay? I'll get it all worked out. You have two more months at school before we have to make any moves. Have I ever given you a reason to doubt me?"

"No," Faith peeped. "I guess not."

"I got this, Faith. Stop worrying. You're with me, and that's all that matters, right?"

She nodded. Faust pulled her into his chest and wrapped his arms around her tightly.

"Everything's gonna be fine. I promise."

[wintervvidow]

apricity

part one.

apricity - the warmth of the sun in winter

warnings: angst, blood mention, violence

pairing: bucky barnes x female oc

word count: 2,364

A/N: hi! welcome to part one of apricity! set in mid-captain america: the winter soldier. this idea has been in my head for a very long time and I am super excited to finally get it out. in this story I use the term “winter widow” , similar to the “winter soldier”, it has no correlation to bucky and natasha here. prolonged italics indicate a flashback.  friendly feedback is appreciated! thank you! <3

ALSO: please know that future parts will take a WHILE. I just want to get the first part out to get the ball rolling.

MASTERLIST 

The silence is what breaks her. She swears she would have been fine if it weren't for the silence, the screams of innocent bystanders no longer existed, the smell of gunpowder burning her nose and stinging her eyes. Aside from the erratic breaths coming from both their lips, you could hear a pin drop as their eyes stared at each other in a blinding intensity as Steve Rogers called out to him, “Bucky?”

The gun feels entirely too heavy in her hands as her lungs expand rapidly, eyes unmoving from the ghost of a man in front of her. Except he isn't a ghost anymore. He's here, alive. James Buchanan Barnes, her Bucky, alive.

He’s clad in all-black tactical gear, metal arm glinting blindingly in the sun. His eyes are a stormy shade of blue, same as the ones that haunt her in her nightmares, not the kind blue she wishes she could have back. The Winter Soldier is the shell of the man she was in love with, the man in front of her was the man she learned to love all the same. He protected her even when he didn’t remember her, even the brainwashing couldn’t fully get rid of the love they both had for one another. Although HYDRA fought like hell to make them both forget. It never worked though, fragments of memory always littered their conscience. 

His brows furrow, overgrown hair in his eyes, “Who the hell is Bucky?”

Deep down in her bones, she knew he was alive. The last time she saw him he was being wiped by HYDRA, his screams masking her disappearance into the winter weather. HYDRA searched high and low for her, yet they forgot that they were the ones to train her. HYDRA perfected her, taught her how to disappear into thin air, and that's just what she did. They went as far as to send the Winter Soldier to find her, but even he couldn’t track her. Florence was a ghost. 

Florence Morozov was many things before she was an assassin; she was an immigrant daughter, a friend, a nurse, and her greatest title of all, the love of Bucky Barnes' life, his fiancée. The couple, along with the third wheel Steve, were inseparable in their younger days before the second war. Where there was one, the other two were usually not far behind. 

The trio had gone to the Stark Expo the night before Bucky got shipped off to the war. That night Bucky had proposed with a small emerald ring, promising her that when he got back they'd get married, move into a little white picket fence house, and settle down. They dreamed of growing old together surrounded by their kids and grandchildren. Only that dream had been crushed under the heel of HYDRA, not long after Florence enlisted as a nurse and Steve became Captain America, notably leading the Howling Commandos. Florence worked closely along with them, acting as a medic when needed. 

When Steve woke up from his 70-year slumber on ice, Florence had a lot of explaining to do. How she was alive, what she had been doing, where she had been. She told Steve what he needed to know, leaving Bucky out of the answers. She had to protect him, even if it meant lying to their shared best friend. She would do anything to protect Bucky. 

Florence explained to Steve that when she fell off the train with Bucky, she had been captured by HYDRA and experimented on. She was sent to the Red Room to be trained and then sent back to HYDRA in the ‘50s. She was their puppet for 46 years, coined the name the Winter Widow before she disappeared in late December of 1991. Florence was on the run for 17 years before she was taken in by Clint Barton, joining S.H.I.E.L.D along with Natasha Romanoff. 

Natasha and Florence grew to be very close over the years, the trauma they both shared bonded them. Natasha was the only one to know the full story of Bucky, every nitty-gritty detail that haunted Florence in her dreams. When Nick Fury had been killed, both Florence and Natasha immediately recognized the ballistics information, a silent agreement between the two redheads to only tell Steve what he needed to know, no more than that. Florence only told Steve that she knew the Winter Soldier, nothing more. Natasha understood her secrets, she had them herself, her response of, "That's not my story to tell, we all have secrets for a reason."

Florence quickly tracked everything up to this moment. Fury being attacked, Steve's description of the shooter, the Winter Soldier attacking them on the highway only minutes ago. And then there was the chase between the soldier and Florence, trying to divert him. And it worked, Florence had managed to distract him until he got too close, the pair of lovers engaging in hand-to-hand combat until Steve intervened.

And now here she was standing in the middle of the street with a bullet in her shoulder from none other than the Winter Soldier. Flashes of the mission in Odessa running through her mind, he had shot her in the thigh then, Natasha in the abdomen. Steve stood in shock as the ghost disappeared, leaving Steve, Natasha, Sam, and Florence to be surrounded by HYDRA agents and arrested. 

Blood trickled down Florence’s shoulder as she was seated between Sam and Natasha in the back of the truck. Her shoulder felt white-hot as she grits her teeth, Sam nervously glancing at her every second. Steve sat across from them, visibly upset, lifting his head to glare at Florence, eyes cold, "You said you knew the Winter Soldier, that you two had a history, not that it was Bucky!" Steve felt betrayed, his oldest friend lying to his face for years about his best friend.  

Sam angrily glared at Steve as Florence rasped her response with a shaky breath, "Steve, I'm kind of bleeding out right now. This is going to have to wait, just know I had my reasons. I did it to protect him. And you." 

Florence knew this day would come. Bucky wouldn’t be a ghost forever. She fought herself internally every night, dreaming of him. It was always him; the good and bad, the Red Room, what happened after the Red Room, their mission in Romania, and every second in between. She was permanently trapped in her own personal hell.

Steve continued on, “It was him. He looked right at me and he didn’t even know me.”

Florence knew the feeling. Every time Bucky was reprogrammed, she had to convince him to loosen his grip around her throat, begging him to recognize her before he killed her. And every time he did, his eyes flashing in recognition and guilt. And then he would hold her shivering body against his in the confines of their shared cell, murmuring in her ear that he was sorry. And she knew he meant it. Even if his mind barely recognized her, his heart always did.

Sam questioned Steve loudly, causing Florence to flinch as she fell back down to reality, “How is that even possible, that was 70 years ago.” Florence felt bad for Sam, he just jumped headfirst into a dark world with more questions than answers. 

“Zola. Bucky’s whole unit was captured in ‘43. Zola experimented on him. Whatever he did helped Bucky survive the fall. Florence, how are you even alive? Zola didn’t get to you before the fall?” Steve just asked the golden question.

Florence took a deep breath in, “I don’t know. There are gaps in time, I don’t remember much from it. They all said that the fall should have killed me but it didn’t. Then I became a lab rat. The end.”

Steve looked her directly in the eye for the first time the entire day, “They must have found him and…”

Natasha interrupted him, she knew where this conversation could lead, “None of that’s your fault, Steve.”

Florence shifted slightly, sharing a look with Natasha, silently thanking her for diverting the conversation. 

Sam shifted beside her as another wave of blood oozed out from her shoulder, he turned to the guards, "We need to get a doctor here. If we don't put pressure on that wound, she's gonna bleed out here in the truck." Florence appreciated Sam’s protective and caring nature as Steve continued glaring daggers her way. Florence knew Steve wouldn’t understand her reasoning, too set in his ways of complete honesty all of the time. He didn’t understand what it meant to lie to keep those you loved safe.

The nearest guard flinched forward, flashing the taser at Sam before turning the taser on the second guard and kicking him unconscious. The guard pulled the helmet off of themselves, revealing Maria Hill, “God, that thing was squeezing my brain.” She motioned at Sam, “Who is this guy?” Everyone shared a collective sigh of relief at the sight of Maria. 

After ditching the car, the team arrived at an undisclosed location. The doors of the truck opened, allowing sunlight to flood in. Steve helped Florence down from the truck, supporting her weight with ease. Blood continued to trickle from her shoulder as she leaned against him for support as Steve spoke while he half carried her forward into the building, “I’m not mad. I get why you didn’t tell me.”

Florence laughed slightly, her body weak, “Are you just saying that because I got shot and I’m currently bleeding out all over you?”

Steve scoffed, his body vibrating with the action, arm tightening around her, “No, Flo.”

Behind her and Steve, Sam called out for a doctor. People ran towards them from the opposite end of the hall, Maria Hill speaking over the sound of footsteps thundering down the hall, "Natasha, there's something you're going to wanna see. Steve, get Florence patched up."

The group broke apart for a short period of time, Natasha reappearing with a hopeful expression on her face as Florence grimaced in pain next to the doctor stitching her up, "Fury is alive."

All eyes remained on Natasha as she explained how Fury was alive, a medication Bruce Banner had come up with did the trick to fake his death. Florence looked to Sam as he digested this information, he didn’t know what he got himself into. She could feel Steve's eyes boring into her head, but she didn't dare look. Her mind was a constant loop of Bucky. 

Flashback: 

His calloused hand led her through the crowd of people, Steve trailing far behind. The trio had just gotten finished dancing and now they were wandering aimlessly through the busy streets of Queens. The air was brisk as it blew through Florence’s auburn hair, her dress fluttering around her calves. Bucky stopped in front of a movie theater, the lights casting a warm glow over his face as he turned to face the girl. Her cheeks were blushed pink from the chill of the air and a smile had been permanently etched on her face all night.

 The news that Bucky was being shipped off in the morning loomed over them like a rain cloud but Bucky was determined to keep her smiling; at least until the morning. His hand abandoned hers, reaching down to fish in his pocket. He found what he was looking for quickly, the velvet box small in his hand. Florence gasped at soon as the box came into the light, tears welling up in her eyes. She knew what this was, she accidentally stumbled upon it when she was putting away clothes last week. A small emerald ring.

Bucky knelt down on one knee, flipping the box open, “Flo, you’ve been by my side through everything. You’re my best girl, always there keeping me in line. I love you more than words can say. I know I leave tomorrow and I should have done this years ago, but will you make me that luckiest man on earth and marry me?”

Florence flew into Bucky’s arms in a flurry of kisses and agreements, Bucky lifting her up and twirling her. He gently set her back on the ground, slipping the ring on her finger as she giggled. Bucky met her eyes, tears glimmering in them, “I promise you, when I get back you and I will get married, we’ll buy a house and we’ll make it a happy home; kids, dogs, a garden, all of it. I promise you.” By the end of Bucky’s promise, both he and Florence were crying in each other’s arms, each one clutching the other tightly, both hyper-aware that the future wasn’t promised. 

Steve stumbled his way through the large crowd, catching sight of his two best friends hugging each other. He didn’t have the heart to break them up at the moment, so he watched on with a smile. It would all be okay.

Bucky sat in the test chair underneath the bank piecing the remnants of his memories together. He knew them. The man knew his name, or at least what he thought was his name. And he knew the girl he shot, memories of her smiling flickered through his mind. Yet they were complete strangers, their faces foreign yet home all at the same time. 

Alexander Pierce was terrified of this day, whether he wanted to admit it or not. He knew of the attachment Bucky had to the Winter Widow, ever since she disappeared in ‘91, the soldier was harder to control, more agitated and violent. He screamed her name in his sleep and when they wiped him he was always mumbling about her when he became coherent. They tried to program it out of him, and when that didn’t work, they tried to beat it out of him, hoping she would vanish from his memories the way his blood washed down the drain. Nothing ever worked. The Winter Soldier was irrevocably in love with Florence Morozov and Alexander was going to use that against him.

The Winter Soldier’s mission was to kill Steve Rogers and Florence Morozov.

FEEDBACK IS WELCOMED. IF YOU ENJOYED, PLEASE REBLOG.

[hournites]

I have a potential prompt for a one shot if you are interested.

Would you write a fic where Rick (and the rest of the JSA) are worried about Beth but she finally shows up safely? Everyone is so relieved, especially Rick... so much so that he goes to hug her but he forgets that his hourglass hasn't completely run out yet and squeezes her too tight. Beth is all like "Uhh, Rick? I can't breathe!" So he quickly (and awkwardly) lets her go.

I think it could be slightly angsty but also cute.

The Disappearing Act

They meet back up behind the garage as planned. Yolanda slinks in from above a roof with Courtney blazing in on the seat of her staff behind her, not nearly as concerned for stealth.

Rick shakes his head at the two. “Where’s Jennie and Beth?”

“I’m here!” They all raise their heads up at the sound of her voice floating in the air.

"Wait." She quickly powers down, setting down her lantern as she shakes out her hand. “Where’s Beth?”

“What do you mean?” Rick questions. “She’s supposed to be with you.”

Jennie glances up from her ring with a sharp breath and glowing eyes. “No, she left me to find Courtney after you called.”

Courtney swerves around. “Me? I didn’t call her!”

Yolanda raises an eyebrow. “What call? I was with Court the whole time, she didn't call.”

“I don’t know, she got it through her goggles, so she left.” Jennie took a step back. “I would’ve gone with her, but we were meeting up here now anyway. I thought she’d be here.”

“So Beth’s gone?” Courtney cries. The cosmic staff flares up as she gets more agitated. “How could you lose Dr. Mid-Nite?”

“I didn’t lose her, Courtney, I trust Beth to make her own decisions. This isn’t my fault!”

“Alright!” Rick snaps, stepping between the two of them before things get out of hand. “It’s only been five minutes. How about we try actually calling her?”

Yolanda’s already on it, pressing a hand to the side of her helmet to get a signal through the coms as she stalks. “Dr. Mid-Nite, It’s Wildcat--Do you copy? Or hear me? Anything? Mid-Nite? Beth? Hellooo?”

Rick pulls down his hood and rakes his hand through his hair. “Where were you when this happened, Jennie?”

Jade light leaves Jennie’s eyes as she backs against a wall, holding herself stiffly. “I-I don’t remember."

"Well." Rick gives her five seconds. "Think harder."

"Okay! Okay! Um...I think we were near the office building for The American Dream.”

“Was anyone suspicious with you? Or around you?”

“What kind of question is that? Why would Jennie be with anyone suspicious?”

Courtney rolls her eyes. “I meant did she notice anything?”

“Beth this is Yolanda, this isn’t funny anymore. I’m serious, please say something....”

“No! I don’t think so!”

Rick spins on his heel.

“Where are you going?” Courtney yells after him. “We can’t split up now! What if there’s actually a villain out there?”

“That’s exactly why we need to find her instead of wasting more time.” Rick flips his hourglass. “You get Pat. I’m going to the American Dream with Jennie.”

“I’ll stay here,” Yolanda tells them. She whacks the side of her helmet again. "Dr. Mid-Nite, do you read me?"

Courtney points out her helmet isn’t broken. It’s just Beth not answering, which doesn't get well received by any of them.

"Geez!" Courtney hugs the staff to her chest, with a grimace, properly scolded. “Get Pat and shut up. I got it!”

~.~

Pat jogs out of the Pit Stop, wiping his sweaty brow with a rag when he hears the loud noise coming in from outside. “Did you find her?”

Rick kicks at the garbage cans lined up at the curb.

“I know you’re stressed.” Pat surveys the trash now littered along the sidewalk. “But you’re picking that up. And replacing those bins.”

"Fine!" Rick kicks another one.

Pat’s mouth thins into a straight line, evidently not being listened to.

“That would be a no,” Yolanda fills in with a frown. “Courtney’s circling around her neighbourhood. Pat checked the school. I’m still not getting anything from the coms.”

Rick lists off his search efforts in anxious detail, counting them out on his gloved fingers. “I tried the tunnels since her goggles don’t work down there. The ISA lair was empty. The cells were unlocked. I knocked down Grundy’s old cage, nothing.” He's frantic, tugging at the base of his hourglass, as though getting choked by his remaining time. “There’s nothing! I thought I could find that her goggles fell off or one of her gloves, anything—”

"Dr. Mid-Nite? Please answer. Make a noise if you can hear this. This is Wildcat, are you okay? Dr. Mid-Nite?"

“And I went back to the last place I saw her.” Jennie wilts, sinking down to sit on the steps. She wraps her arms around her knees, the lantern firmly placed at her feet. “This is my fault.”

Yolanda gives up on reaching Beth for a moment, taking a seat beside Jennie to console her.

“I should’ve paired with her,” Rick mutters, just barely loud enough for the others to hear. “We always do these stupid patrols together.”

“The patrols are not stupid!” Courtney butts in with a scoff. The Cosmic Staff charges at Rick in her defense. Unthinking, he swats it away with his strength, sending it flying out in the other direction.

“Hey! Don’t hurt the staff!”

“Whatever, Court!” Rick snaps. “Beth is actually missing and none of us have a clue as to where she is, we’re not going to be talking about your staff’s feelings—”

Yolanda wrings her hands and gets up abruptly. “Maybe the goggles malfunctioned again and she got lost somewhere.”

“She’s literally biked to every square foot of this town.”

“The goggles malfunctioning is a good theory, Yolanda.” Rick opens his mouth to retort and Pat continues before he can start another fight, “I’ve already given Barb a call in case she calls our house. Girls, why don’t you check your cell phones?”

The girls file back into the Pit Stop. Rick hovers by the door, reluctant to go in with them.

“Pat? Why aren’t you worried?” The tone borders on accusatory. Rick’s face is still covered by the dark mask, blending into the dark night, but his concern is transparent through his eyes.

Pat sighs. “It’s only been 2 hours. Beth is a smart girl.”

“She’s a smart, small, pretty girl in Blue Valley. A town full of murderers.”

“I’m well aware of that, Rick.” He pulls the rag out to wipe his face again. “But freaking out and hurting people’s feelings isn’t going to help anybody find her.”

“But—” Rick turns his face away, twisting the chain hanging from his neck again. “Sitting here isn’t helping either!”

We’re gathering clues and searching the town. I didn’t say we’re giving up.” Pat takes his time. “Look, I know you care about—”

“I just don’t know what I’d do if something bad happens to her!” He gestures at himself. “Or if this runs out and I can’t help her. It isn’t like Beth to….go silent.”

Pat claps a hand over the shoulder of Rick’s golden cape. “I know.”

“Pat!” Yolanda bursts out through the side door. Courtney and Jennie quick at her heels. “She’s okay! I heard her voice through the helmet! She’s on her way back!"

“What?” Rick shot up. “Where?”

Though he doesn’t have to look far. She’s at the corner, stumbling in her haste to get to them in the dark. The girls all scream and run and fly out to her, ignoring Pat’s insistence that Courtney and Jennie should at least try to conceal themselves in the middle of the road.

Rick sits back down heavy on the step, flooded with relief.

When Beth makes her way over, Pat checks to make sure she’s not wounded, but she waves him off, yanking down her green cowl. “I’m fine, Mr. Dugan. Just thirsty.”

“I’ll get you water!” Jennie practically shouts, rushing to the kitchenette inside the garage. “We’re never splitting up again!”

“What happened?” Pat exclaims. “We’ve searched the whole town!”

Her eyes slide to Rick and the glowing sand in his hourglass.

“You were all looking for me?”

“Yeah,” says Rick. “I was about to throw up.”

“Someone hacked into my goggles and faked Courtney’s call.” Beth cringes. “The Shade uh...wanted to talk?”

“The Shade?”

Courtney's curls whipped back violently. “He WHAT?”

“I’m okay!” Beth reassures them all again when they panic. “He messed up my goggles so I couldn’t use them until he finished what he had to say. He even dropped me off in his car by Richie’s when we were done talking.”

Courtney prompts, impatient, “And he talked to you about…?”

Beth sighs. “He’s giving Barbara an ultimatum about the Zarick artifacts.”

Yolanda grips onto her arm. “He kidnapped you to make a business arrangement?”

“He let me go afterwards!” Beth drops her gaze to her brown boots, feeling a bit embarrassed now that she sees how long she’s been gone. “He really wants that wand, Mr. Dugan.”

“I’m sure,” Pat says, rolling his eyes. “Barb and I will worry about the Zarick stuff tomorrow. We’re glad that you’re safe.”

Jennie returns with water and a snack. Beth takes a sip then excuses herself to change out of her Dr. Mid-Nite costume. When she returns, she settles next to Rick, who hasn’t said a word since their short exchange.

“So…” she starts timidly. “You were gonna throw up?”

Rick pulls her in for an embrace. She gasps. “Only you could have a whole civil conversation with a supervillain and walk out unscathed.”

“Rick! You’re crushing me!”

“Shit!” He lets go immediately when he feels the hard edge of the hourglass glowing in the wedge between them, reminding Rick his hugs right now would hurt. “Shit! Sorry! God, I’m sorry. I just didn’t—”

“It’s okay.” Beth throws her arms around his neck, squeezing tight. Rick closes his eyes, eased. He’ll let her do the holding. “I thought you were going to be mad.”

“What?” He turns to look at her. She’s so close, still hugging him, he has to look away. “No, I was worried. I turned the tunnels upside down for you.”

“Oh.” Beth lets go, but taps on the glass as the final grains of sand slide through the pinhole. “Really?”

“I’d do it again.” He clears his throat and adds, “For all of you, I mean. If you disappeared, um…” He trails off, unsure of why he’s feeling so awkward.

But Beth merely nods, seeming to understand. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.” They both look down at his chest, watching the hourglass to power down. Beth shoots him a timid smile. “Want to try that hug again?”

“Sure.” He stands up and extends out a hand, reeling her in.

[garbagevanfleet]

Brightest Blue (series)

PART SEVEN

Pairing: Josh x reader Warnings: men being shitty and creepy!! possible trigger for sexual assult Summary:  Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place. Notes: things are taking an odd turn, right? (sorry this is posted so late) 

taglist: @valleyd0ll​ @satingrass-maidensfair​ @guitarfingers​ @thebohemianpenguin​ @peaceisouranthem​ @oblvions​ @hansonobsessed​ @myownparadise96​ @lara-gvf​ @anditsmywholeheart​ @kill-fear-the-power-of-lies​ @bigblack-catattack​

MASTERPOST 

You woke up to the shrill chiming of an alarm cutting through your head like a circle saw. The unexpected noise made you sit up instantly, putting your gaze directly on a desk, the top of it overflowing with sheet music. 

Josh started to stir next to you, his hand reaching out from under the blanket to grab his phone from where it sat in between you.

The sore spot on your ribs made you wince, and your eyes drifted down to find your own phone, pressed into the mattress from you sleeping on it. 

When the screen flicked on, you let out a sharp gasp. 

“Josh, we have like fifteen minutes to leave!” you yelped, hopping instantly out of bed and finding your knees a little wobbly. 

He sat up then, rubbing across his face. 

You gazed back at him, frowning at the odd setup; he was laying on top of the comforter but under a different blanket.

“Shit, I had yesterday’s alarm still set for my late class,” he murmured, inching himself toward the end of the bed. 

“Oh my god,” you whined, racing to the bathroom. You brushed your teeth way too quickly, knowing in your heart that you did a poor job.

When you returned to Josh’s room for your phone, he was pulling a clean shirt over his head.

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, sounding somewhere between asleep and awake.

“It’s okay, I should have set my own alarm,” you admitted, snatching your cell from the bed and scooting past him again. “It’s really okay. Are you going to be ready to leave in like ten?”

He nodded as he ran his fingers through his curls. “Yeah, you?”

“I’m praying.” 

On the walk to school, you remembered. 

“Fuck, my presentation is today. And I got high and didn’t practice.”

He chuckled under his breath, clasping his hand around your shoulder. “You’re going to be fine- just breathe and stay calm. If you mess up, take a pause and keep going.” 

You nodded furiously. “Okay. Okay. Can you text that to me? What if I forget?”

He laughed in earnest then. “Yes, I’ll text you.” 

You exhaled a lengthy breath, nodding as you tried to calm your nerves. 

In front of the entrance to the B hall, he spun you around to face him, holding the biceps of each of your arms. He mimicked taking a deep breath, prompting you to do the same without another thought. 

“Relax,” he instructed coolly. “And I’ll see you at lunch.”

+++

You had your hands clasped tightly in your lap, nervous enough that your palms were sweating. Getting up and speaking to a room of people was high on your list of things that felt like torture, especially since you hadn’t had time to shower or do anything with your mess of hair besides pinning it up into a bun as best you could. 

You thanked a divine power that the outfit you had thrown on in a haste ended up looking surprisingly presentable. 

As it neared your turn, you got your papers in order and straightened up your posture. When your name was called, you promptly stood, descending the steps and ending up down at the podium. 

You had just opened your mouth to start when your phone chimed in your pocket. Your eyes popped open wide, hoping you’d hallucinated the sound instead of forgetting to silence your ringer. 

The professor was giving you an unamused look as you gave a weak laugh.

 “One sec, sorry,” you muttered, fishing out your phone. You flicked the little button down on the side, but as the screen lit up, you got to read what the message said. 

Josh      just now Just pretend everyone’s me or pretend they’re naked. Probably not both though.

You couldn’t help but huff a laugh as you tucked it back away. The nerves that had you so on edge started to dampen, just a bit. 

+++

That afternoon, you walked home alone. Josh had texted you that he’d be staying until 5 or 6 to make sure the production was going along smoothly, but when he returned to the apartment, it was with a bottle of wine. 

You were doing some of the dishes from the previous day and had to wipe your soapy hands on a dishtowel before he crossed the room and pulled you into a side hug. 

The two of you had talked about how well the presentation went when you met at lunch, but you hadn’t imagined he’d make such a big deal about it. 

“I had Jake pick me up and take me to the liquor store, and I got this so we could celebrate,” he informed, his voice kind of soft - either sheepish or tired, you couldn’t quite tell. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” you replied, but couldn’t suppress the huge grin splitting your lips. 

He nodded, offering a soft smile. “I know.” He set the bottle down on the table pointedly. “I wanted to.”

You fished the make-shift corkscrew from the utensil drawer, brandishing it like a knife to earn a melodic laugh from Josh. 

He popped the door of the fridge open to peer inside. “We might be able to make something special for dinner. Or, at least more special than mac and cheese or sandwiches.”

When the idea popped into your head, you crossed the room and grabbed your purse. 

“I still have about,” you paused to count the bills in your wallet. “$34 from shopping. I was saving it for something nice, so why don’t we order something in?”

He grinned at you, leaning back against the wall next to the fridge and letting his head rest against it. “What kind of take-out are you thinking? You should get to pick.”

“Oh, please,” you huffed, playfully rolling your eyes as you started unwrapping the foil around the rim of the wine bottle. “One, I could have never done so well if it weren’t for you. And two, you’re from here, so you’d know what’s worth ordering.”

His pink lips tilted up into a smirk. “I’m not from here though.”

“Close enough.” You took a moment to think before continuing on. The tip of the corkscrew was broken, leaving a blunt edge and he watched you struggle to pierce the cork with it. “Is there any kind of Indian? Or Thai maybe?” 

He nodded. “There’s an Indian restaurant downtown. It’s pretty yummy if I remember right.”

“That kinda sounds perfect, right?” 

He held his hand out, flicking his eyes down at the corkscrew and then back up at you until you reluctantly handed it over. He picked up the bottle and popped it open with ease, his smirk only growing. 

“Yeah, perfect.”

+++

Thursday evening, Trevor showed up around five, just as you were finished making your bedroom look like a cute study nook. You weren’t entirely sure how much studying either of you planned on doing, but since he only brought one notebook and nothing else, you weren’t very hopeful about getting any work done. 

“I wasn’t expecting you to have a roommate,” he said in a playful tone.

“I do. When I moved here, I knew I couldn’t afford to live alone, so I rolled the dice. He’s a great friend, as it turns out. Do you want something to drink?” you asked as he stepped through your doorway and set his stuff down on your bed. 

“That’d be cool.”

“We have juice and milk and water and iced tea.”

He shrugged with a smile. “Anything but milk, please.”

You nodded. “I’ll bring you some juice.” 

Josh, who was seated in the sitting chair in the living room, working on his own homework, looked up at you through his eyelashes with a mischievous-looking smile.

You shot him a scowl. “Don’t be weird,” you whispered, and then in a normal tone, finished with, “Would you like some juice too?”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head at you. “That’s okay, I can get my own. You just worry about him.”

Trevor happily took his glass as you handed it to him, giving you a “thank you”. 

“Of course,” you replied as you sat next to him on the bed and pulled your stack of textbooks onto your lap. “Where should we start?”

“You actually want to study?” he mused, sounding disbelieving.

You bit your lip. “Probably for a little while at least, right?” 

He shrugged back at you, but you tried to brush off the odd attitude. Maybe you’d given him the wrong impression as to exactly what this would be, but you could fix it. 

“So, we’re supposed to read chapters ten through sixteen and then do all the questions,” you informed, flipping the book open. “You want me to read it out loud?” 

You thought maybe offering to do most of the work would brighten his mood, but every time you looked over at him while you were reading, he was scrolling through his phone. He had a bored expression painted across his features, and it took him nearly a full minute to realize you’d stopped reading. 

When he finally looked up at you, he gave a smile that you knew he thought was the most charming thing you’d ever seen.

You could hear a knock on the front door and Josh shuffling around in the living room. 

“Have you been listening to any of this? You look like you’d rather be anywhere else.” You tried to keep your tone from sounding annoyed, but you knew you couldn’t hide it as well as you wished. 

“I’d rather be doing anything else if I’m being honest.” There was not a single shred of an apology in his voice, and when you spoke again, you knew it would be even less put together.

“Why did you want to come over for a study session if you didn’t want to study?” It was less of a question and more of a scathing review of his character, or at least what you’d seen of it so far.

He frowned at you, looking a shade on the accusatory side for your liking. “I feel like you should have known what that actually meant.” 

You could hear a conversation going on in the kitchen, and you silently wished you were out there instead. The longer you heard them talk, the more convinced you became that it was Jake, and you wondered if Josh invited him over on purpose, or if he just showed up.

“You said you thought I was good in class and that part of why you asked me out was so I could help you with classwork.”

He rolled his blue eyes. “Yeah, if I hadn’t, I can’t imagine you would have invited me over.”

You had your mouth open to snap a response, but somehow, his words hurt you. Not much, but just enough for your chest to feel tight, and not just from anger.

 “Did you think you could manipulate me into having sex with you?” you asked quietly, your brows threaded close together in a frown. 

He gave a long, bored-sounding sigh. “Don’t act like I’m a bad guy, here. Everyone does it. Give some fake compliments and then make your move, you know?”

For emphasis, he placed his hand on your thigh, a little too high up. It made your teeth clench, jaw tightened by rage.

“Don’t touch me. You should go,” you stated. 

He huffed a sarcastic laugh as he inched his hand a bit further up your leg. He moved toward you until his face was nearing your neck. “Come on, what’s the big deal?” 

Before you could stop yourself, you reached a hand out and slapped him across his face, your palm making contact with the hollow of his cheek. You hadn’t been expecting the crack of noise when you made contact; it ripped through the room, and out into the living area if you had to guess. 

It took him a beat to realize what happened, but as soon as he did, he stood from your bed. You picked up his notebook and handed it to him, and he ripped it from your grasp, a dirty look on his features. 

“You’re a cockteasing bitch,” he snapped, nursing the red spot on his cheek. 

He was already halfway through the living room when you moved to stand in the doorway of your room. 

“Fuck off,” you called through clenched teeth as he opened the front door and let himself out. When he was gone you realized that Josh and Jake were both looking at you with similar degrees of concern from where they were sat on the couch. 

“What happened?” Josh asked, frowning up at you. 

Embarrassed, you flicked your eyes over to Jake who had one eyebrow quirked up at you. 

“Oh, you know. Just boys lying to me so they can fuck,” you snapped as you retreated to your room and closed the door. You instantly felt bad for being short with them, especially since Josh is just about the last person you could ever imagine being mean to, but you’d apologize later. 

Right then, you were going to curl up in bed.

After a couple of hours, Jake left and you wondered how long it would take before Josh came in to bug you, but he didn’t. You listened for his footsteps coming toward your door, but you could hear him in the living room, turning the page of a book every now and again. 

Eventually, you couldn’t help yourself - you threw the blankets off and stood. The stiffness in your muscles was a poor consolation prize for the day. 

He looked up at you, shutting his book instantly, his homework caught between the pages. 

“Hey,” he greeted quietly. He patted the spot next to him on the couch. “I’m sorry your...thing went so poorly.”

You were too annoyed to care anymore, so you laid your head on his shoulder, letting out a long sigh. It surprised you when you felt a tear drip down your cheek and you could feel your face start to warm in response. 

He heard you sniffle and his form stiffened immediately. His arm wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you tight to him. 

“Did he hurt you?” It sounded like Josh’s throat was tight, making his words hoarse.

“No, he just,” You weren’t sure how to finish that. He hadn’t really hurt you, per se. “He just tried to touch me. And then he didn’t stop when I told him to.”

“What?” His tone was charmingly offended on your behalf. 

“It’s okay,” you assured, wiping your face with the sleeve of your sweater. “I’m more angry than anything. I just kind of can’t believe I fell for that, you know? The whole ‘let’s study’ thing.”

“Stop that - it’s not your fault.” You could feel the hesitation as he laid his hand against your ear, but you leaned into it, grateful for the comfort.

It was quiet for a long moment while you calmed yourself down. His presence was more of a reassurance than anything else you could have imagined at the moment.

“You’re my best friend,” you breathed, turning to nuzzle your nose against the fabric of his sleeve. “And I’m lucky to have you.”

Through a smile, you heard him say, “Me too.”

[bvccy]

Tenderness and Ferocity | 3. The Dream and the Third Day

Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky Barnes x Hydra!Reader Fic Synopsis: The Winter Soldier is starting to make stupid mistakes in the field, which is Bucky's way of trying to wrest back control and sabotage his handlers. Hydra brings a new doctor to figure out what's wrong with him and fix it. As she spends time with him, she becomes fond of the Winter Soldier, and he becomes fond of her. Bucky has other ideas. Or, a fic in which the Winter Soldier is the good guy and Bucky is actually the bad guy. Warnings for this chapter: Angst, Smut, Noncon Word count: 2334 Read on AO3: [link] [Previous Chapter] [Fic Masterlist] [Next Chapter]

"Life in essence can only be sustained because of the discontinuity. Why else does one sleep? Not to rest, but above all to forget. [...] If one could prevent mankind from sleeping, I am convinced that a massacre without end would ensue; it would mean the end of history." — Emil Cioran

All the useless gadgets clattered, without clattering, to the floor. The exposed skin of her back shone against the pressing dark, under a light that wasn't there. Her arms stretched out in front of her to grab the table, to clench in little fists, to crawl away from him... He clasped both her wrists in one heavy hand while he held her by the hip with the other. The stranger looked unfamiliar and out of place, yet boyishly handsome, a lissome thoroughbred cut from pale stone.

He'd already yanked her shirt halfway down her back, leaving a delicate pair of peachy straps to cut into her shoulders as she tried to pull herself up and away. With his other hand, he raised the black flag of her skirt inch by hurried inch. Two flesh hands, pawing at her squirming silhouette.

Those legs that had teased him so were now buckled in a tangle of red lace, at once parted and constricted and leaving her fully victim to him. Above her he loomed, then leaned, slowly down to feel her warmth, his dark green shirt sticking against her back.

In a voice dry with disuse he taunted her to say that she wanted it, to beg for it, though he sounded utterly disinterested and his eyes — he couldn't actually see his eyes, but he could hear that same disuse and disinterest ringing in their glare. She whimpered underneath him but said nothing, insulted from both directions by his grimy touch and transparent insults.

"Ignorance is bliss, isn't it?" said the stranger — but not to him, nor to her — as he buried his face in her fragrant hair and his hips into hers and himself into her... But no relief came, nor satisfaction, and it felt like no matter how close he got to her, couldn't be further away.

He battered and battered and broke through, with great delight at just the effort, and he made tremors rise then relent in her tense legs. Her high heels tapped against the floor in a trembling rhythm that undercut her plaintive moans until he stopped, and settled inside her, and laughed against her shoulder in a harsh exhale. He taunted her over how she sounded, how she felt, how he felt in her.

The more she withdrew, the more aggressively he followed, always fighting her and pulling the fight out of her in honeydew dollops that had nowhere left to go but to seep and stain his nice trousers. Her shoulders went up in a useless attempt to hide, but he squeezed her wrists in warning and bit her shoulder, the nape of her neck, anywhere he could reach that would punish her until she learned to stay still.

"Oooh yesss, that's it... I hate you so much." he laughed in manic joy, eyes falling closed against her throat.

The hand that held her hip squeezed her closer, pressing her so desperately against him like he was trying to crawl up inside and never leave. She whined in pain, muffled by her arms and the table. The stranger cooed against her ear and teased against her hips, turned her inside out and back together, discordant with her mewls and wails as he clung to her and she unconsciously to him the more his galloping pace opened her up and brought her out to meet him.

He wasn't so much pleasing himself as punishing her, and only interrupted his focus to laugh or hiss at some new-discovered throbbing, a frisson to rub against, a frothy surrender that he worked hard to push through until she took it again.

"I'm gonna kill you," he snarled down at her. "I swear I'm gonna kill you..."

No amount of resistance could carry her through his punishing thrusts, and no surrender was enough, and it all went on and on until the threads holding her up started to unravel, leaving her a blushing rough and bloody shade that the stranger could claim as an extension of himself. He rubbed away the parts that weren't base and grimed up what was left. Only thoughtless sounds came out of her now as she struggled to fit him, and fit into him.

The stranger heaved hotly with the effort of holding still, feeling over and through her deliberately and seeking still more, pressing his body down to suppress her new, aching, wet shivers.

With a pain melting through her surrender, down, down into pleasure, she tried to plead with him and she moaned his name, his real name, but after the first flush of recognition he stopped caring because he knew he wouldn't remember it anyway and —

Wait, why wouldn't he remember it?

Eyes shot open only to be greeted by the cement ceiling of his cell. The Soldier sighed and turned his head, looking at the corner where the bulbous little camera was. He looked to the door and saw the parting screen still closed shut — he was awake too early. With a groan, he turned over in his cot and pressed the cold metal hand where he ached.

On their third session, after the guardsmen left, he stepped into the room to find a collection of strange equipment and wires on the table, and a mix of subtle scents coming from two wooden containers. She sat in her chair, waiting for him with a smile, her sleek legs crossed together tightly. She wasn't wearing her lab coat anymore.

"Good morning." she said as they closed the door. "Come on in, sit down. None of this stuff is going to hurt you, I promise."

Reluctantly, he obeyed, his boots sounding slow and heavy through the room as he made his way toward her. He let himself fall in the seat and rested his hands on his tense thighs.

"It's just a GSR monitor. I'll only strap these around your fingers, you won't feel a thing." She demonstrated by wrapping one around her finger, wiggling, holding it up for his doubtful eyes. He had no choice anyway, so he rested his right arm on the table. She took his hand and opened the palm up, holding it gently while her other hand went to a little tube and scooped up a salty-smelling goo.

"For conductivity." she explained as she rubbed it just barely in his tough skin. "Be grateful it's not an EEG, otherwise I'd have to rub this stuff into your scalp. You'd look like a punk that got lost in the rain." she laughed, but it died quickly as the Soldier frowned and shifted in his seat.

Then she took two of the straps and wrapped one around his index, another around his middle finger, and turned his palm back down. She clicked the machine on and it beeped in confirmation, beginning a reading of his skin and what was going on underneath.

In plain terms it was a rudimentary lie detector, meant to scan for stress and some primitive emotions. Maybe he knew that or he didn't, but she could tell she had to work him into it, calm him down before she could get an accurate reading of what moved him.

"Do you know what time it is?"

"You have a watch." he grunted, looking at the worn leather strap around her wrist.

"Yes, but do you know?" she smiled.

"0803 hours."

"Yes. Do you know where we are?"

"Headquarters Alpha 3."

"Good. Do you know what day of the week it is?"

"No."

"Did you sleep last night?"

"Yes."

"Did you have any dreams?"

"No." he said with a sardonic smile. The line on the monitor moved ever-so-slightly, but it could just be a reaction of their tiff about it the other day. Or, he was lying to her again.

They spent the rest of their session with him strapped up to it while she made use of a couple of boxes and the little things inside. With eyes closed, he had to guess what she placed between his fingers: a piece of velvet, silk, a pocket watch, a cufflink, a snow globe.

The edge that separated the Asset from whoever he was before was smudged only so slightly, by necessity, the way it was with all the other soldiers in the program — they could still talk, after all, and read and write, and still employ the complexities of hand-to-hand and armed combat, all things they learned in a past life and used now for Hydra's ends. What made her soldier the best was how sharp that edge was, how steady — until it wasn't.

He retained good coordination, if his finely drawn clock was anything to go by, a steadiness that an unbalanced brain would have found difficult. They had tried, with past soldiers, to split the two brain hemispheres physically, severing the membrane that bridged between them in an effort to isolate the old soldier from the new.

The right hemisphere housed contextual perception and feeling, while the left was honed and focused and precise. They even grew to slightly different sizes, in parts, even though the skull that covers them is evenly shaped. It remained in mainstream medicine a mystery, one that Hydra explored with relish.

But all that resulted from their experimental surgeries were monstrous malfunctions. As it turned out, the left hemisphere dominated most of the body even when separated, and Hydra's soldiers were left imprisoned in the right brain, at best controlling one arm and some eyesight.

Removing the whole left hemisphere also didn't yield any improvements, even after recalibrating what remained. There were even more extreme experiments suggested, but they were deemed too damaging to put the soldiers through, too harmful for staff morale, and too uncertain in their results.

It was clear that a successful subject had to keep all his faculties, all the useful memories in whatever form, while imposing the dominance of the right hemisphere over the left. In a way, the Soldier had been there all along, growing with the unwitting owner of that body, learning, judging for himself and reaching, inevitably, different conclusions.

There always was something slightly more sinister in the right hemisphere, which only emerged when it was freed from the left, or when the left was in a dream state and its control dropped. So it was clear which side Hydra drew its soldiers from, when it freed that part of them with their infernal brain-machines.

The wavering of that edge also explained why her Soldier had such excellent memory, remembering even obscure European countries well, but also their capitals, which Hydra never saw fit to teach him. And as she went through more little things that stood out against the strictures of their base and his missions, it emerged that, though steady, the line that separated her Soldier from someone else was kept at his convenience.

The man underneath was generously lending his memories of what fancy little cufflinks and snow globes felt like, just so the Soldier who had never seen them before could give the right answers. But what she needed to figure out was how much of the control was the Soldier's intention, and how much was unconscious reflex. If the man aimed to sabotage his missions, would the Soldier even know? Worse, if he wasn't aware of anyone else sharing his brain, could he really control him?

Would he want to?

For Hydra, her mission was simple: root out the part that dissents, make it submit. They were too focused on efficiency to know what they were truly asking for. They had no idea how bad it could get, or how good...

"That's enough for now. You can open your eyes while I get the next batch, we're almost done. This last bit is just some food tests."

"As long as it's not from the mess hall."

She was halfway to the sink, a small wooden crate in her hands, when she started laughing. "I promise it's not. So it's true what they say? Way to a man's heart..."

"Is through his rib cage."

Her laughter rang through again, but he kept his eyes straight ahead, focusing on the sound of her running her hands under the water, arranging things on a plate, and wiping her hands dry on the threadbare cloth that hung there.

"Close your eyes now." she spoke as she stepped closer from behind. The plate clinked as it met the metallic table, right by his hand, and he smelled and felt the heat of her as she stood right in front of him.

"I'll give you some things to taste, and you just tell me what they are. And they're all pretty soft. Alright? First one. Open..."

Something was nagging him from the back of his brain again, jeering at him for the childish position he was in, but he couldn't think of anything to feel ashamed over.

"Strawberry."

"Good. Now, swallow and... again..."

"Grapes."

"That's right. This next one is a bit, well... Just open and tell me."

He bit into a soft and shapeless thing that tasted like, if anything, a green paste. "I don't know what this is."

"Avocado. Maybe you've never had it before. Better make a wish, then."

"What?"

"Never mind. Open for me again..."

"Mint?"

"Yes, that's a mint leaf. It's perfectly safe, you can swallow. Now, this one will come in a spoon, so open wide." She let the cloying thing slip on his tongue and the taste spread in his mouth in a way that was familiar but unusual.

"Tastes like... roses."

"Yes, that's rose petal jam. If the Director only knew what I spent my funding on, spoiling you..." she giggled, but it died quickly as he kept frightfully still and his jaw tensed. From the corner of her eye she saw the GSR give an angry twitch.

"Right, one more and we're done. Open, and tell m—"

"Plums."

[eveningsinlondontearsmeapart]

1869

Type: one shot about Shawn Mendes Rating: Rated R for some sexual content Word Count: 4800+ Enjoy!

She was dragged across the floor, thrown at someone's feet. Lifting herself off the floor, her eyes meet the person in front of her. It was the boy she met last night, the boy that kissed her. She brushed off the dirt from her knees as she bowed her head down to him. As he was the king and she was just the poor girl that was in trouble. 

"What have we gotten here?" he asked as he looked around at his servants. 

"She was trying to break in," someone replied. 

"She is just a she, how could she make such a mess?" the king questioned. 

"Because she is not just she,"  someone said. 

"How silly can we be? " the king chuckled. "If you must insist then throw her in the cell," he said. 

His guard grabbed her arm and started pulling her away. She looked up at the king before looking at the ground. 

"Be careful with her!" the king said. 

"Of course," his guard said. 

The guard pushed her into the cell and slammed the door shut. Making sure it was locked before leaving. She was left in a cell, just hearing water dripping. Not knowing if she would ever see daylight again, but what was her crime? She walked back and forth trying to figure out how she would get out of this. Surely the king remembered her and would want her free? Or was it too risky because of who she was?  The minutes turned into hours and there were no signs of her getting out. She sighed as she sat on the cold bench, dropping her head down in her hands. 

"Don't pout my child" someone said. 

"What?" she perked up, looking around to see where the voice came from. 

"They will remember a pretty face like yours" the woman in the cell across from hers.

"I'm sure they won't" the girl responded as she put her head down in her hands again. 

"Don't give up" the women said. "What's your name?" the woman questioned. 

"Isobella," the girl responded. 

"Such a pretty name, I'm sure the king would be smitten with you," the woman said. 

"Because I have a pretty face? But not enough riches to win him" Isobella said. 

"Money won't buy love," the women said,

"ENOUGH!" the guard yelled. 

"When will I get out?" Isobella asked. 

"When the king says" the guard rolled his eyes. 

"Food?" the woman asked. 

"Soon enough" the guard responded. 

The servants brought food to the prisoners, more food than Isobella had ever seen. She ate all of her food as quickly as she could. Growing up with seven siblings makes you appreciate what you get and how quickly it can be gone. They cleaned up afterward and were surprised at how much Isobella ate. 

"The king has requested your presents, '' the guard said as he unlocked Isobella's cell. 

"I wonder why," Isobella said as she walked out of her cell. 

"You don't get to do that, '' the guard grabbed her arm, pulling her back. "You walk when I walk," he said. 

"Ouch, you are hurting me! You heard the king be careful with me" she snapped back. 

"Watch your tone of the king will behead you," the guard said as he brought her to where the king was at. 

The guard pushed her into the room making her fall to her knees. She stayed on her knees and kept her head down. Still not knowing how much trouble she was in, she didn't want to make it any worse. He came over to her and grabbed her hand, helping her to her feet. Placing his hand against her chin, gently tilting it up so she was looking at him. She avoided eye contact with him, as she pulled away from his touch. 

"What is your name?" he questioned as he leads her to a chair. 

"I'm Isobella," she said as she took a seat. 

"What is this I hear about you trying to break in?" He sat next to her. 

"I didn't try to break in, my crime is killing one of your men" she admitted. 

"Wait what?" He looked at her. 

"Yea that's my crime," she said as she finally looked up at him.

"Well I like a lady that can hold her own" he smiled slightly. 

"It was one of your men," she said, 

"Let's be honest he probably deserved it" he chuckled slightly. 

"You're not mad?" she questioned.

"Like I said he probably deserved it" he shrugged his shoulders. 

"Am I in trouble?" she looked at him. 

"No you are not," he said as he placed his hand against her leg. 

"That's good so I'm free to go?" she pushed his hand away from her. 

"Did I offend you?" he asked. 

"No, I just don't like being touched," she said. 

"Yes you are free to go, but stay clear of my palace" he stood up. 

"And if I don't?" She stood up. 

"You will be beheaded next time," he said. 

"I'm sure that will be lovely" she rolled her eyes. 

As she was getting ready to leave he grabbed her arm. Pulling her closer to him, whispering in her ear. "I know you are the one who I kissed, don't play too hard to get," he said. 

"It's more fun to be chased than to just give it away" she smirked as she moved from his touch. 

"I'm up for the challenge" he smiled as he leaned against his desk, 

"Good" she ran her hand down his chest before turning to leave. 

He grabbed her hand once more pulling her closer to him. Placing his hand against her neck, leaning in, allowing his lips to touch hers. Kissing her softly as she grabbed his sides and kept the kiss between them. She pulled on his bottom lip as he gripped her hips in his hands. Slowly pulling away as she rested her head against his forehead. 

"I should go," she whispered. 

"I don't want you to," he said as he kept her close. 

"I know but I should," she said. 

"Come back later? or I could meet you somewhere?" He looked at her. 

"I don't know," she said as she looked away. 

"Hey" he tilted her chin back so she was looking at him. "I want to see you again" he brushed his thumb against her lip. 

"I want to see you again too," she admitted. 

"Then where could we meet?" He brushed the hair from her face. 

"I wish I knew" she leaned in and kissed him softly before she left. 

He wiped off his lip and went back to the work he needed to do. He couldn't seem to get her off his mind, as it angered him that he could see her. That he didn't know anything about her, nor where she stayed. He called all of his guards in and questioned them about what they knew about her. They only knew her name and that was Isobella, but nothing else was known about her. 

"I'm the king, how can we not know anything?" he questioned. 

"Because we don't keep count on people," his guard said. 

"I want to know where she is, I want to know everything" he slammed his hand down on his desk.

"I'm sorry but she's gone and there's no way to find out about her," the guard said. 

"Well, find her!" the king said. 

"It's not that easy sir," his guard said with a sigh. 

"Fine, we will have a ball and invite EVERYONE near this palace," the king said. "And we will find her!" he looked up. 

"Invite everyone? that's a lot of people" his guard said. 

"I need to find her, if a ball isn't the way to go then I'll put out a missing person or something" he sighed as he sat down. 

"She isn't worth it sir, she's a poor girl," his guard said. 

"Don't talk about her like that!" he said. 

"Sorry sir, we will try to find her," his guard said as he left the room. 

She got as far away from the palace as she could. Making her way down to where her family stayed. Unfortunately, empty-handed but she knew they would be worried about her. She finally made it back to the village and her house, of course, her sisters were so happy to see her. Her mother and father on the other hand were worried sick about her and questioned her the moment she walked into the house. 

"Where have you been?" her mother asked. 

"I got lost in the woods mother, I'm sorry," Isobella said. 

"Lost in the woods? the woods you know like the back of your hand?" her father questioned her response.

"You know me, silly girl gets lost in the woods. my head is always in a cloud" Isobella said. 

"That is the truth," her mother said as she turned her attention to cooking. 

"Did you get the mushrooms?" her father asked. 

"Sorry I didn't find any" Isobella said as she made her way to her room. 

Isobella got cleaned up in the bathroom and changed her clothes. Before grabbing her notebook and heading to the backyard. Her brothers were playing around in the yard. She sat in the shade and started writing, writing about the King. She knew no one would believe her, that's why she made up something to tell them. 

"Always writing in that thing" her brother Geroge said. 

"Always," Isobella said with a soft smile. 

"Why?" Billy asked. 

"It's too complicated for your small mind" she rolled her eyes. 

"Uh-huh," Billy said as he went back to playing. 

"Dinner is ready," their mother yelled. 

They all came around the table and sat down together to eat. Said their prayers before they started to eat. After they finished eating Isobella cleaned up the kitchen. Since she was the second oldest she took on more to help around. Her oldest brother was off to the war. No one knew anything about Anthony, it had been a while since they heard anything from him. Then there was George who was also Isobella's twin, so he helped out as much as he could. Billy and Annabella were the youngest. Kane and Nick were the middle children and were a handful, always getting into trouble. 

"I'm all done in the kitchen, I'm going for a walk," Isobella said. 

"Stay close," her father said. 

"I won't stray too far," she said as she left the house. 

She left the house with just her notebook. She made her way into the woods and down to the creek. She sat on the bank and allowed the water to flow over her feet. She started writing in her notebook once again and lost the track of time. She had to stop writing because of the sunset and it had become dark. She sighed as she placed her shoes back on and started back up the trail. Like her father said she knew the woods like the back of her hand, so she was making her way through the woods. When she bumped into anyone, knocking her book out of her hand. 

"Watch where you are going," she said as she picked up her book. 

"Isobella?" the voice said. 

"King?" she responded as she looked up. 

"I knew I would find you here" he smiled slightly. 

"Why were you looking for me?" she questioned. 

"Because," he said as he grabbed her hand. 

"Because is not an answer" as she pulled away from his touch. 

"Because I wanted to see you again," he said. 

"Why?" she questioned him again. 

"You are very hard to figure out," he said. 

"I never once said I was easy," she said as she started to walk away from him. 

"True, wait doesn't leave," he said as he grabbed her hand. 

"Why?" she looked at him. 

"Because I wanted to see you again, so why to leave so soon?" he questioned her. 

"Because" she replied. 

"Oh really" he chuckled. "Because is not an answer," he said. 

"True" she rolled her eyes playfully. "Because I didn't want to see you," she said. 

"Do you want me to believe that?" he asked as he took her notebook. 

"Give that back!" she said as she reached for it. 

He chuckled as he held it high enough where she couldn't get it. He turned away from her and started to read what she wrote. He was surprised when he realized that she wrote about him. He started to smile and blush from the words that she put on paper. 

"The King is the man of my dreams," he said. "His body, his lips, do I dare want more?" he read. 

"Stop!" she yelled as she finally grabbed her notebook back. 

"Dare to want more?" He pulled her closer to him. 

"I don't even know your name," she said. 

"It's Shawn" he smiled as he placed his hand against her cheek. 

"Shawn" she smiled as she leaned in towards him. 

"Yea that's my name" he placed his lips against hers and kissed her softly. 

She placed her hand against his chest and kept the kiss between the two. He pulled her closer to him, moving his hand down her sides. Gripping her hips with his hand as the kiss started to turn more intense. He leaned her against a tree and moved his lips down to her neck. She placed her hand on the back of his neck as she let out a few moans. Trying to be as quiet as she could be, as he started moving down lower. He undid her dress top, moving his lips down to her collar bone. Sucking gently as his hands undid the rest of her dress. Before he could slip it off of her she stopped him. She pulled her dress closed and moved away from him. 

"I should go" she grabbed her notebook and started to walk off. 

"Wait," he said as he ran to catch up with her. 

"I'm sorry," she said as he continued to walk. 

"Stop," he said as he grabbed her arm. 

"I'm sorry," she said once more. 

"Did I do something?" he questioned. 

"No, I'm sorry," she said. 

"Stop saying sorry and talk to me" he stood in front of her. 

"Come on, let's be real here," she said as she looked at him. "We aren't a match," she said. 

"What are you talking about?" he questioned. 

"You are a king and I'm just a servant girl, even that's a stretch" she looked down. 

"Why does money bother you so much?" he asked. 

"It doesn't but it should to you. because you would get the funny stares and the gossip" she said. 

"And you think I care about what people think?" he tilted her chin up.

"You're the king," she whispered. 

"And I want you," he said. 

"The poor girl, why do you feel pity for me? am I your charity case?" she questioned as she moved from his touch. 

"Charity case? What are you talking about?" he asked, confused. 

"Just do us both a favor and leave me alone," she said as she walked past him. 

She left him standing alone in the woods. She fought back tears as she made it back to her house. He walked slowly behind her so she wouldn't notice. He saw where she lived and her family, even though she wanted nothing to do with him. He sighed and went back to his palace trying to figure out a way to make her admit her feelings. She laid in her bed and allowed her tears to fall onto the pillows. Billy came in and snuggled close to her as they both fell asleep. In the morning it was back to normal life for her, back to school, and back to do everything she could to help her family out. As she was bringing back her basket of fruit she saw a horse. 

"Mother? Father?" she said as she entered the house. 

"Yes dear we are here, the king has graced us with his presence," her mother said. 

"Who?" Isobella asked. 

"The king Shawn," her father said. 

"Oh Shawn, I mean your highness" Isobella said as she nodded her head down to him. 

"It's just Shawn," he said as he looked at her. 

"Why are you here? May I ask?" she questioned. 

"Just charity work" he smirked as he looked at her. 

"I knew it," she said as she rolled her eyes. 

"Don't talk to him that way!" her father said. 

"It's fine, surely we all have a brat in the family," he said. 

She crossed her arms and just looked at him. She couldn't believe he was here in her house helping her family. What was it that he wanted? She thought to herself, she finally pulled herself away from the kitchen. She went straight to her room but before she could close the door Shawn was right there. 

"What are you doing?" she whispered. 

"Just checking in," he said as he placed his foot at her door so she couldn't close it. 

"Charity case really?" she asked as she fought back tears. 

"You suggested it," he said. He saw that she was getting upset at the thought of that. "hey what's wrong?" he asked as he placed his hand against her cheek. 

"Stop," she said as she looked away from him. 

"You are not my charity case," he said, trying to reassure her. 

"I am or my family is," she said. 

"Isobella you are not!" he said. 

"Just go or finish whatever you are doing," she said. 

"Have dinner with me?" he asked. 

"Why?" she asked. 

"Stop being a brat," Shawn said as he crossed his arms. 

"A brat? Are you serious?" she looked at him.

"There we go, finally I got you to look at me" he wiped her tear off her cheek. "Please have dinner with me?" he asked again.

"Ok" she nodded as she wiped her face. 

"Good, tonight?" he requested. 

"Sure your highness" she smiled slightly. 

"Don't do that," he said. 

"Well don't call me a brat," she said as she rolled her eyes.

"Stop doing that" he gently grabbed her neck pushing her into the room. Pushing her against the wall, leaning in, allowing his lips to touch hers. 

"Stop what?" she asked as she bit her lip. 

"Rolling your eyes at me" he kissed her softly, pulling at her bottom lip. "And that's mine to bite," he said as he looked at her.

"Yes sir" she smirked as she looked at him. 

"Good" he brushed his thumb against her lip. 

He pulled away from her and went back into the kitchen. She gathered herself together and went out to the kitchen as well. He finished helping her mother cook dinner as Isobella just watched. He smiled at her a few times before they finished dinner. 

"I'm sorry but I have to go, I hope you enjoy dinner," Shawn said. 

"Aw thank you, your highness," her mother said. 

"Just call me Shawn please," he said as he looked at Isobella. 

"Thank you for tonight Shawn," Isabella's mother said. 

"No problem, may I ask for your daughter's attention tonight?" Shawn questioned. 

"Of course," her father said. 

"Just for dinner, I promise sir," Shawn said as he held his hand out towards Isobella. 

"I'm pretty sure she could handle herself if you try anything," her father smirked. 

"I'm sure of it," Shawn said.  

"Be careful with my sister," Billy said. 

"I will be little man," Shawn said as he grabbed her hand. 

He led her out of the house and got onto his horse. He helped her up onto the horse, wrapping his arms around her. She leaned back on him as he made the horse move. They started going back towards the palace, Shawn resting his head against her shoulder. Soon they were at his palace and he got the horse to go into the barn. He got off the horse and helped her down, with her in his arms. He slowly put her down on the ground as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He put the horse back in the stall and grabbed her hand. Leading her inside the palace and into the dining room. 

"Normally you would sit at the other end of the table, but I want you close" he smiled as he pulled out a chair for her. 

"Thank you" she smiled and sat down. 

"Of course," he said as he took his seat. 

They bought the food out and once again Isobella was amazed at how much food there was. She was overwhelmed but then started to eat as much as she could. He grabbed her hand trying to get her to slow down, she looked at him as if she did something wrong. 

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't be but don't rush, it's not going anywhere" he brushed his thumb against her hand. 

"I'm just used to it since there are seven of us," she said. 

"I know but here it's ok" he nodded as she looked at him. 

She nodded her head toward him as she started to eat again. He also ate and once they finished she tried to clean up as she always does. He came behind her and wrapped his arms around her. She rested her hands on his as she leaned back in his arms. He nodded towards the help and led her to his bedroom. 

"I'm just so used to cleaning," she admitted. 

"I know" he kissed her cheek softly. 

"You have an amazing bedroom," she said as she looked around. 

"I do try" he smiled as he watched her look around the room. 

"Such a big bed," she said as she sat down. 

"I know," he said as he moved towards her, moving between her legs. 

"Must be nice" she looked up at him. 

"Not really when I'm always alone" he laid her back as he moved over top of her. 

"Always alone?" she questioned as she ran her hand down his chest. 

"Well now I'm not" he smirked as he leaned down and kissed her lips softly. 

She smiled against his lips before kissing him back. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he moved closer to her, pressing his body against hers. Making sure she could feel his excitement between his legs. She gently pulled at his bottom lip as his hands slid down her sides to her waist. Gently undoing her dress, pushing it open, as he stood up. Gazing at her naked body under the dress. She sat up fully pushing the dress off her shoulders and started to help him undo his shirt. She started to get up onto her knees and kissed him softly. Moving her lips against his neck, slowly moving down his chest. She started to undo his pants as she looked up at him. He placed his hand against her cheek, resting his thumb against her lips. 

"Are you nervous?" he questioned. 

"What?" she looked up at him. 

"Are you nervous?" he asked again. 

"For what?" she said. 

"This" he pulled away slightly. 

"This? Meaning sex?" she said as he sat down next to her. 

"Yes, are you nervous?" He brushed the hair from her face. 

"Maybe," she said as she looked down. 

"Don't be ashamed of being nervous" he tilted her chin back up. "If you are not ready then we won't do this," he said. 

"But wouldn't you get mad?" she played with his fingers. 

"No I wouldn't" he leaned in and kissed her softly. 

"I do want to try, maybe just slowly?" she asked. 

"We can go at your pace," he said. 

"Maybe not tonight," she said as she looked at him. 

"That's fine," he said as he leaned over and kissed her softly.  

She slipped on her panties and pulled his shirt over her shoulders. Covering herself up as he got dressed as well. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. He sat on the bed leaning back against the pillows. He pulled her between his legs so she was resting against him. She pulled the covers over them and rested against his chest. They both started to drift off to sleep, he kept her close all night. In the morning she was awakened by his movements in the bed. She sat up looking back at him as he woke up, stretching. 

"Morning," he said. 

"Morning," she said as she leaned down kissing him softly. 

"Good morning" he smiled against her lips. 

She moved on top of him as he placed his hand against her hips. She leaned down kissing him softly but pulling at his bottom lip. He leaned up and kept the kiss between them, slowly moving his shirt off her shoulders. Kissing down her neck, sucking gently as she let out a few moans. Making his way down to her collar bone, playing with her panties with his hands. 

"Excuse me?" someone said as they entered the room. 

She pulled up his shirt over her shoulders to cover herself up. She got up off of him as they both stood up from the bed. It was his mother standing there. They both were taken back but she was confused because he couldn't be king if his parents were still alive. She stood in silence as he broke the silence in the room. 

"Mother," he said. 

"Father will be along soon, who is this?" his mother questioned. 

"Just a friend," Shawn said. 

"Friends don't do what you two were doing" she crossed her arms. 

"It's nothing mother, can we talk in private please" he gave her a look. 

"A poor girl at that, does this family's name mean nothing to you?" she said in a tone. 

"Stop it mother," Shawn said as he walked over to her. 

"Excuse me, little girl. I think it's time for you to leave this palace" his mother said as she moved so Isobella could see her. 

"Of course," Isobella said as she grabbed her things and rushed out. 

"Mother!" Shawn said before chasing after Isobella. "Stop, please," he said. 

"It's best if you left me alone as I said from the beginning," Isobella said as she continued to walk. 

"Please," Shawn said as he finally got in front of her. 

"Listen to your mother king, or can I even call you that?" she questioned. 

"I'm a prince," Shawn said with a sigh. "Can we meet later?" he asked. 

"No, stay away from the poor girl," she said as she moved past him.  

"Isobella," he said as he grabbed her arm. "Please" he tried to get her to look at him. 

She pulled away from him and ran out of the palace. She walked back to her village and made it back to the house. She went inside and went straight to her room. She didn't want to hear anything anyone had to say so she closed her door behind her. She tore the pages out of her book that she wrote about Shawn, she wanted to get him out of her mind. Finally, she came out of her room and got something to eat.

"Stayed over?" her mother asked. 

"Clearly," Isobella said as she leaned against the wall. 

"Don't talk to your mother like that?" her father said. 

"Sorry but yes I stayed the night" Isobella sighed. 

"It didn't end well with the king," her mother said.

"He's not a king, a prince," Isobella said. 

"Prince," her mother nodded. "Well, as long as you are happy with your choices," she said. 

"Thank you," Isobella said as her mother walked towards her, kissing Isobellas forehead. 

Later that day Isobella went for a walk into the woods. Sitting down near the creek as she watched the water flow. She heard people coming into the woods, she stood up not knowing who it was. She saw horses and then she saw Shawn on one of them, plus a few other people. 

"This is the girl?" a man said. 

"Yes sir, this is the girl," the guard said. 

"Take her into custody," the man said. 

"Who are you?" Isobella asked. 

"I'm King Mendes," he said. 

"The king" she swallowed hard and nodded her head. 

"No need for that, it's time for you to pay for your crimes'" he said. 

The guard got down from the horse and cuffed her. Helping her onto the horse before getting back onto the horse himself. They went back to the palace and she was thrown back into the cell. This time she knew that she wouldn't make it out alive and maybe that would be for the best she thought to herself.  What was her crime? Falling for the prince or killing the guard? She sat down in her cell, hugging her knees to her chest. The tears built up in her eyes but she didn't hold them back as they fell down her cheek.

[heliads]

Radio Silence Chapter Four: I Verify

Poe Dameron has been assigned to work as an intel receiver to Acer, a Resistance recon agent. They’ve only ever talked through the comms, so when she’s captured by First Order troops he assumes she’s lost forever. When Poe accidentally rescues the absolutely infuriating Resistance spy Y/N L/N from a First Order Star Destroyer, he knows she’s got nothing do with with Acer. Right?

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Poe waits. Y/N does not show up. To be honest, he’s not sure why he cares. He’s only met her a few hours ago, and they’ve been clashing ever since. Yet there was still something strange about seeing that brief flash of unease in her eyes, the waver in her voice when she was questioning Leia. Stormtroopers and the threat of torture back in her First Order cell were never enough to shake her, yet something at the base had washed all of that away. Isn’t that something to be concerned about?

Poe watches the corridors, the rooms, the training centers, but Y/N is conspicuously absent from all of them. It’s not like he’s actively trying to search her out, he just keeps noticing that she isn’t there. If he went to all of the trouble of breaking her out of a First Order Star Destroyer, he should at least know that she’s alright, right? He sounds like a lunatic.

After a couple of days, Poe finally sees her. She’s walking purposefully through the corridors of the base, listening to some coworker yammer on next to her. When Y/N’s eyes catch on him, she seems to hesitate for a second, then she raises a hand in greeting. Poe smiles in return, and just like that, the moment is over. Poe isn’t sure what he was expecting- he and Y/N had been fighting almost all of the time they spent on the Needle. So what if they had been civil on the base- did he really expect that they would trade insults in front of Leia? Nothing’s changed except the location, and Poe shouldn’t find himself disappointed that it hasn’t.

Life on the base goes on as normal. Poe sees rebels sent out on missions, they return with more scars and tales of high-stakes chases through the stars. Eventually, Poe gets tired of sitting around and politicking with Leia’s advisors, so he puts in a request for an off-base mission. He doesn’t know how long he’ll have to wait, but at least the prospect of leaving this system is somewhere in reach. 

The mission ends up coming around sooner than he’d expected- barely a week goes by before Poe finds himself packing for another expedition. He’ll be taking his trusty X-Wing this time, no more sublight cruises or Mandalorian Needles. To be honest, Poe is okay with this- if there’s only room for him, there’s no chance that he’s bringing back snarky mechanic spy officers who can rival his knowledge of ship parts or be able to bother him with a single smirk and step.

As Poe is tossing his gear into his X-Wing, he notices someone walking up behind him. He turns to see Y/N, arms swinging casually at her sides as she takes in the ship. “Have you been downgraded from the Needle?” She asks, grinning. Poe ignores the sarcastic grin. “The Needle was temporary, the X-Wing is my favorite. If you say anything bad about her I’ll kick your ass myself.” Y/N raises her eyebrows. “Defensive, I see. Does that mean a lot of people have said bad things about your X-Wing or are you just very prepared?”

Poe turns to look at her, folding his arms across his chest. “Are you always this exasperating or is it just for me?” Y/N grins like a lynx. “What, are you asking if you’re special to me? Not a chance. I just wanted to see if Finn was going with you or not.” Poe leans up against the metal fuselage of his ship. “That’s a good excuse, but I’m pretty sure that you came all the way out to the hanger just to see me off.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “I was so excited to see you leave that I couldn’t help myself. Don’t take it too seriously.” Poe flashes her a grin. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I know you’ll miss me.” With that, he jumps up into the X-Wing, holding back a laugh at the sound of Y/N’s outraged retorts. Yet when he checks one last time over his shoulder as he flies out of the hanger, he notices that Y/N is still watching him go, a soft smile on her lips. Maybe she wasn’t so unfeeling after all.

The mission itself is nothing major. He’s not going into the Kinoss system or anywhere near Starkiller Base, just treading lightly on the outskirts of the Unknown Regions. There’s a backup copy of Resistance data files that needs to be collected and brought back to base. It contains lists of recon officers and spies, their assigned locations, and everything they’ve been able to find out over the last month. To put it simply, it is imperative that Poe finds this data file and brings it back before the First Order catches wind of its presence.

BB-8 whistles at him from over his shoulder, and Poe grins. “No, I’m not worried. This isn’t like Kinoss, we shouldn’t have to get anywhere near a Star Destroyer. Nothing’s going to happen.” There’s a whirring and clicking, and Poe shoots the droid a look over his shoulder. “Will you stop talking about her? She was just there to get in one final jibe in case I died, and I’m not going to die, so it’s no big deal.” He pauses for a second, listening to the series of beeps, then speaks again. “If you don’t drop this I’m going to send you over to Finn and get a new droid that doesn’t bother me all the time. Yes, I’m joking, stop your chatter.”

Poe touches down just outside of some backwater town. It’s not so different from the planet D’Qar, where the Resistance base is currently hidden, or even Yavin 4. Manageable gravity, only one sun, except there are significantly fewer forests and more of these massive stone outcroppings that block off the sun to create areas of shadow on the ground that are miles long. Farms have to be built on moving bases so that they can constantly stay in the sun as the sun passes overhead, forever shifting back and forth to avoid the shade of the stone cliffs.

Poe received intel that the data files were stored in a cave on the northeastern part of the planet, in a hollow in a rock face. He’s been sent the exact coordinates, and he makes his way deliberately along the surface of the planet, dodging behind large crags of rock whenever stormtroopers or civilians pass his way. He doesn’t want to be spotted, because he won’t be able to talk his way out of this one. A Resistance officer getting caught on a city planet is understandable, but here? He would obviously be hiding something.

After about half a standard hour of walking, Poe finds the cave entrance. He flicks on a lightstick from his multitool, shining it around. His eyes quickly catch on a plasteel crate tucked away under a rock ledge, and he hurries over to it, picking it up and carrying it out of the cave. Once he gets out into the light once more, Poe can recognize the faded Resistance insignia, and he knows he has the right box. Just to be careful, though, he opens up the box once he’s back inside his X-Wing, telling BB-8 to pilot him back so that Poe can direct his full attention to the crate.

The box is empty except for one datapad. Curious, Poe lifts it from the box, flicking it on and allowing a wash of bluish white light to cascade over his face in the dark of space. BB-8 whistles something from behind him, and Poe waves a hand dismissively at the small droid. “I’m sure it’s fine that I look at this. I have to make sure it isn’t a First Order decoy, right?” Besides, Poe makes knowing things a habit in the Resistance, and he’d like to make sure he stays on top of things. Even without his pride, however, there’s still a fairly good reason to check the files: they might contain something on Acer.

This is wrong, yes. He shouldn’t be checking it, shouldn’t know anything about her at all. But he isn't interested in finding out the name, only the status. If she’s dead or still considered missing, the file will state it. After a few minutes of paging through the data sets, Poe finds the entry he’s looking for: Sender code name: Acer. Receiver code name: Bravo. This is her. At first, Poe’s eyes flick over to the status bar, and he feels his chest fill with silent, overwhelming gratitude when he reads the few words labeled there: Alive. Returned to base. But then he keeps reading, and Poe feels a sudden piercing shock drive through him like a vibroblade.

His real name is there as the receiver: Poe Dameron. Next to that, though, is her name. Acer’s real name. Sender: Y/N L/N. Poe leans his head back, letting it thunk against the seat. For a second, he can’t think about anything at all. His eyes watch as the stars flick past behind him, but he isn’t taking in a thing. Then all of the emotions hit him at once. Acer is Y/N. Y/N is Acer. This must be what she was talking about that day, wasn’t it? Poe had told her that he was Bravo, that he was Acer’s receiver. Of course she had seemed stunned, she was going through the same revelation that Poe is undertaking right now.

But it’s different for Poe. Y/N had only had to realize that the man in front of her was Bravo, and she had chosen to not say anything. She had kept it entirely to herself, except for a frenzy of questions delivered to Leia. Why hadn’t she said anything? Yes, they’d been arguing for a while back on the Needle, but that wasn’t enough for her to damn him to never knowing if she was dead or alive. Why would she have lied to him?

By the time Poe is docking at the Resistance hanger once more, his anger and betrayal have faded into an overwhelming numbness. He walks over to Leia at the command center, handing her the box with the data files still securely inside. He doesn’t say anything more than he has to, and then he leaves the room once more. Poe has scarcely gone ten paces from the room when Y/N rounds the corner, and a cocky smile lights up her face at the sight of him. Poe can’t bring himself to return it, even when she hurries over to him.

“Look who it is, the returning hero! I thought I’d have a little longer until you came back. I think I might be disappointed.” On any other day, Poe would have scoffed, and said something about how every minute in that ship away from her was a blessing, but he stays silent today. Instead, he looks over at her, starting to veer away from the hallway and towards a door leading to an empty room. “I need to talk to you.” Y/N’s grin falters at the look on his face, at the stiffness of his words.

“Sure, Dameron. I’m a little worried now.” She follows him into the room and Poe closes the door behind him once he makes sure that they’re alone. When he turns back from the door, Y/N is facing him, the soft light of the room hanging over her eyes in a gentle wash of brightness. “What’s wrong?” She asks. Poe just looks at her coolly. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He doesn’t have to say anything more- Y/N knows what he’s talking about. Her gaze falls away, and when she speaks again, her voice is quiet. “You know.”

Poe feels a surge of anger starting to twist up in him once more. “Of course I know. How long were you planning on keeping this from me? A month, a year? What, you thought you could never tell me and it would be okay? I would have spent the rest of my life thinking that my Acer, my best friend, was dead or tortured, and you were fine with that.” He breaks off, shaking his head. “I would never have done that to you.”

Guilt is spun around Y/N’s every feature, but it hurts too much to look at her. “I wanted to tell you, but I know you wouldn’t want to hear it. Not from me.” She laughs, the sound twisted and broken in the quiet room. “You would never have wanted to find out like that. What, that ‘your Acer’ was the girl you’d spent the last few hours hating and arguing with on that ship? If I had told you, you would have wished I kept it to myself. When you told me you were Bravo I realized that Leia had never told you, and I figured it would be best if I went along with it. You would never have wanted it to be me, not in a million years.”

Poe just stares at her. “What, you thought that this was you doing the right thing? Maybe I would have been surprised, but you don’t get to decide how I would have felt. You don’t know what I would have said, so you made the choice for me.” Poe rakes a hand through his already disheveled hair. “Stars, I don’t know anything about you.” Y/N’s gaze turns cold. “No, you really don’t.” With that, she turns and walks from the room. Were it not for the hunch in her shoulders, Poe would have thought she was fine. Yet he can still see it in her stance, in the rhythm of her steps as she walks away. He’s really done it now.

Poe waits until he can no more, slipping away from his quarters to go find Y/N. He’s not sure what he would say to her- apologize? Promise he’s not going to leave? But it doesn’t look like he’ll get the chance- no matter where he goes, Poe cannot find her. Eventually, some comms officer notices him walking back and forth down the halls and offers to help him out. When Poe explains that he’s looking for Y/N, the officer visibly winces.

“I’m sorry, Dameron, but Recon Agent L/N left on a mission two standard hours ago. It was really hush-hush, almost nobody knew except Leia and a few others. All I can tell you is that she was in a team with two other soldiers, and they were going somewhere in the Core Worlds.” Poe starts. “But that’s in the middle of First Order territory. That’s practically suicide.” The officer nods sympathetically. “It’s dangerous, that’s for sure. It’s a shame you didn’t get to see her off, I thought I saw her looking for you. Well, keep your hopes up. I’m sure she’ll be back here before we know it.”

The officer continues on down the corridor, leaving Poe reeling in his head. That was why Y/N wanted to see him- to tell him about the mission. And how had he left her, minutes before she left on what would probably be the most dangerous mission of her life? With angry words and accusations of betrayal. He wishes he could take it back, redo that moment. Even his anger from before seems dull and pale now. 

What if Poe never sees her again? What if that was his last moment with Y/N, with Acer, and he just left a broken memory with the most important girl in his life?

radio silence tag list: @kesskirata​, @ubri812​, @itsnottilly​, @20th-centu-fairy-girl​, @imabeautifulbutterfly​, @cp11​, @chocolitelady​