#I just think that would be an interesting fic for me you know?

[captainreecejames]

Pick Me Up?

Charles Leclerc imagine

summary : the four times Charles picks you up and the one time you pick him up.

pairing : Charles leclerc x fem!reader

I believe there is no mention of YN, but I'm not 100% sure.

word count : 3.5 k

warnings : none that I can think of

note : I only read over this once so if there's spelling errors or other mistakes that's what happened. Next up should either be Logan Sargeant my ex is a footballer or the social media accompanying fic. Anyways, enjoy and me if you like it!!

1. Charles picks you up from a bad date

The date had started fine.

Actually more than fine. He showed up on time, was pleasant to the waitress, and had good manners. Really, he would have even gotten a second date, if he hadn’t brought up Formula 1.

It’s a topic you tend to avoid when meeting new people, as they either tend to know a lot already and want to use you to get to Charles or they don’t know anything and assume that you are using Charles, when they know nothing about your relationship. It was a hassle you learned to shut down before it even began.

But back at the date with Vince, he had brought it up and that’s when things started to go down hill. 

Despite your best efforts, when people brought up Formula 1, you grew taller and more focused on the conversation, it’s like a switch flipped. While Charles driving for the best known team certainly helped your interest, everything about the sport was fascinating for you and you couldn’t help but geek out when the topic came up. 

Vince noticed your reaction and his casual demeanor turned critical. “You only know about it because you think the drivers are hot.” That had made your smile drop instantly, brows furrowing as you tried to respond. “Probably can’t even name all the teams.” He thinks that stumps you, but you’ve dealt with enough shitty men in this sport, you’re not taking anything more from this wanna-be investor.

“I don’t have to prove my knowledge of F1 to you,” you state, deciding that this dinner is now over.

“Oh, now I know you can’t even name five drivers.” Your frown deepens, picking up your napkin and placing it on the table next to your plate. It had gone down hill so fast, how disappointing.

“Your attempt at insulting me into submission is falling flat.” His eyes are wide at your comment, and he must not have expected you realize his move. You flag the waitress over and she walks quickly back to your table, noticing how you’re not smiling anymore. Seems like this date is a bust, so another twenty note must be added to the jar of bets amongst the staff of this restaurant.

(You and Charles visit the place often as it was the sight of your first job, but also the food and people were lovely, and bringing a first date here was the safest option.)

(So they all knew you and were betting on when the dam breaks and you two admit your feelings for each other.)

You hand Lucille enough money to cover both yours and Vince’s meals, not bothering with the change. Your goal now is to get as far away from Vince as soon as possible. He  opens his mouth to say something again, but you are already out of your seat and walking towards the front door, phone calling Charles to pick you up.

He answers on the first ring, always on alert when you go on dates.

(Not because he’s jealous or anything, but because he’s worried about you and needs to make sure that you stay safe. He’s been tempted to bribe the staff of your little restaurant for information during dates after a particularly bad one, but his mom talked him out of it.)

“Ma cherie, is everything alright?” You roll your eyes at his question, just knowing that there’s a smirk on his face right now. He didn’t have a great feeling about Vince, but he wouldn’t say I told you so.

“Can you pick me up please?” You barely need to finish your question before he answers with an ‘of course, I’m already on my way.’

“Need me to stay on the phone?” You glance back at the restaurant, looking in the window to find Vince scrolling away on his phone, oblivious to the movement around him.

“No, focus on the streets. I’ll be fine.” Charles hums his answer and hangs up, leaving you to look busy on the streets of Monte Carlo.

He pulls up not even two minutes later, stopping the car haphazardly in a tow-away zone. You rush to the side, opening the door and shimmying in as fast as you can because even though this is Charles Leclerc’s very recognizable Pista, you don’t want to risk any tickets. While he pulls away you realize how fast he showed up and a question forms on your lips, but he speaks before you have the chance to ask.

“I was only down the road at the marina.” He seems sheepish, like the answer is rehearsed, but you don’t push it because you’re still grateful that he showed up. What would you do without him to pick up after a bad date?

2. Charles picks you cause your car breaks down

This time when you call him should feel less embarrassing than other times, but really it only feels worse. How are you going to admit to him that the car you’ve been saving up for and desperately wanting since you were 7 just crapped out on you before you could even get out of the parking garage? Especially when he advised you against such car. It would be humiliating. 

Alas, you made the call, practicing in your mind what you would say to him. 

Again, he picks up on the first ring, though this time you’re not sure as to why he answered so fast.

“Is everything alright, ma cherie?” You blush, grateful he can’t see your face.

“I’m stuck,” you exhale, ready to face what ever he has in store for you.

“Stuck?”

“My car won’t start and I’m still at work, everyone else has left and I’m in need of a ride.”

“Okay,” he answers, relief filling you. “I’m leaving the gym with Andrea, I should be there in 15 minutes. Don’t talk to any strangers.”

“Love you too, Charles.” You roll your eyes, hanging up on him and sitting in the drivers seat of your beloved, but broken, car. That’s some good money about to go down the drain for the tow and mechanic fees. As you debate calling your dad to help you out with diagnosing what’s wrong with the car, a familiar rumble enters the garage, and you see the ever famous Pista pulling up next to you, a smirking Charles in the driver’s seat.

“Someone call for a pick up?” You want to roll your eyes at him, but the smile on his face makes the irritation melt away. After a long day at work, made even longer because your stupid car that you really wanted wouldn’t start, all you feel is relief and affection for the man in front of you, and it’s a little too overwhelming.

Tears pool in your eyes and Charles frowns, cutting the engine and climbing out so he can hug you. He only admits it to his mother, but holding you is just as good a driving when he’s driving on the track with a car that responds to his every command.

(And what he won’t admit to anyone is that if holding you feels like that, then kissing you must feel like he’s just won a world championship.)

“Ma cherie,” he whispers, pulling your body into his own and stroking your hair to soothe you. He doesn’t ask any questions, which you’re grateful for, you don’t actually know what’s wrong other than everything is just too much and him showing up makes you feel safe enough to let it all out.

When you’ve finally slowed your breathing and made yourself relax he pulls away, looking at you with so much love in his eyes that you’re not sure if you’re dreaming. “Now you know what it felt like to drive under Binnotto.”

The comment is a shock and it makes you snort, which is what Charles was going for. Your laugh that he thinks could make him smile even in the darkest moods. “You can’t say that Mr. Ferrari.” You smack his chest while shaking your head, but the rueful smile on your face tells him that you still haven’t gotten over the team principle screwing him over.

Then the smile eases into something much more natural, and he knows the tense moment has passed. “Takeout?” he suggests, ushering you to the passenger side of his car. You nod at him and he’s pretty sure that he would do anything to make you smile.

3. Charles picks you up for a spontaneous lunch date

The next day it’s he who calls you, but you still an answer on the first ring.

(You’ve dedicated a Måneskin song as his ringtone so you always know when he’s calling)

(He made your ringtone a Mika song after you dragged him to a concert)

“Charles,” you answer, confusion in your tone.

“Ma cherie!” he sounds excited and you can’t help but want to follow him anywhere he goes when he sounds like that.

“Is everything alright?” You ask it this time, because shouldn’t he be packing for a race now?

“I’m outside, we’re going to spend the day on the water.” After leaving your home last night, Charles decided that you needed a pick me up, and what better way but to spend a few hours lounging around on his yacht, soaking up the sun and enjoying each other’s company.

(No one else would be there, but this wasn’t a date.)

(Seriously Arthur, it wasn’t a date.)

You spare a glance around your room, laundry begging to be done and dishes waiting to be washed. Yeah, you could use a day away from chores.

“Let me grab a bag,” you tell him, already throwing more clothes around the room in search of your favorite bathing suit. He hums through the speaker and you put your phone down to keep searching for the bathing suit. It was your favorite red crossover one piece and you be damned if you didn’t wear it today, anything to manifest a Ferrari win.

When you finally manage to find it, in the pile of clean but not put away laundry, you pick your phone back up and tell Charles you’ll be right down.

In two minutes you’re out the door of apartment, eyes landing on Charles leaning against his car. He looks so handsome with the windswept hair and Ray-bans on, you really have to wonder why he’s spending the afternoon with you and not some model he met in a garage.

(He’d say it’s because it’s the weekend before a race and this is a tradition, spending the afternoon with you before he leaves is the only way to ward off bad luck.)

(Seriously, before the Netherlands race last year you'd been unable to make it because of a bad cold and he had to retire the car that race, so safe to say you were forced to the boat, or his apartment, or he came over before the plane every time after that.)

Maybe the question is what would he do without you?

4. Charles picks you up from a girl’s night

This time Charles doesn’t pick up on the first ring, in fact, he barely makes it to the phone in time to answer. That’s because it’s not you who is calling, but rather a friend.

You and few girl friends had decided on a girls night out for one of them going through a bad break up, but after a few pregame shots and then drinks at this club, you were pretty intoxicated.

Looking for your group after coming back from the bathroom and the bar, you had spotted Lando and Max across the room, which made you think about Charles.

(Not that he ever really left your mind.)

And when you think about Charles, you wonder where he is, so you went to your friends. Both their faces lit up when they saw you, indicating that they were also not sober. After a quick hug for both of them you turn to survey the rest of the bar, looking for your Monagasque. 

“He’s not here!” shouts Max, trying to be heard over the noise. Your shoulders drop, turning back to the two racers with a pout on your lips.

“Where is he?” you ask, trying to seem nonchalant, but drunk you can’t hide her feelings as easily as sober you.

(Many would argue that sober you can’t hide her feelings easily either, but all that matters is that Charles doesn’t find out. And since he’s too occupied in hiding his also obvious feelings, you’re both oblivious to the other’s pining.)

Lando says that Charles stayed at home, something about playing the piano and having an early night was more tempting than drinks. The real reason being that if Charles went out he would not have been able to stop thinking about you and your potential suitors, which would lead to him drinking to forget. He was not up for another heartbreak hangover.

Your eyes light up at the mention of Charles playing the piano, sitting down in the booth with them. “Oh! I bet it’s going to sound wonderful!” Both drivers roll their eyes, and to their disappointment, you’re not drunk enough to miss it. “You don’t like his music?” The accusation in your tone makes them readjust their face. It’s not that they don’t like his compositions, it’s just that when Charles explains them, it’s almost always about how you looked on a certain day and he just was so inspired he had to put something down. They’re really tired of the back and forth between you too.

You begin your speech on how talented Charles is at the piano, which then morphs into how talented he is as a driver, and then as a person. It all turns into a ramble about how proud you are of him, something they’ve all heard before.

When you’ve somehow made it to Leo and how Charles chose the perfect puppy, the man himself shows up.

“Ma cherie,” he interjects, placing a hand on your shoulder to get your attention. You turn towards him, and Max swears that there should be cartoon hearts in your eyes.

“Charles!” you yell, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. “What are you doing here?” You’re slightly too loud for being in his arms, but he doesn’t care if you yell his ear off, it’s still you.

“Max said you were ready to come home.” Your brows furrow at that, because you don’t remember ever saying that, or even Max disappearing to call Charles, but you can’t be mad at him showing up.

“One more drink?” you ask, eyes pleading with him. Charles shakes his head, he can feel how much he’s supporting your weight even while sitting and knows that any more alcohol will likely end with you tripping over yourself.

“Water,” he answers and you’ve agreed to the words coming out of his mouth because it’s Charles, and he’ll never steer you wrong.

Charles heads to the bar to grab a water, running into your group of friends there. He tells them your status and that’ll he’ll be taking you home after this drink. They all nod along, most of them predicting that the night would end like this: Charles showing up and driving you home.

When it’s finally time to leave and Charles has ushered you out of the packed club into his Pista, you remember that you came here with a completely different group. “The girls!”

“Don’t worry, ma cherie, I saw them before we left and told them I’d take you home.” The gentle smile on his face is enough to put one on yours. Where would you be without him, indeed.

+ 1. You pick Charles up from the airport

You’ve got a new car now, thanks to Charles, and since he needs to be picked up from the airport, you’ve decided to take it for a nice spin. The roads are relatively clear for the drive, and you’re there in the usual 30 minutes. That makes you early for Charles, but you take the time to work out what you’re going to say to him.

Before you get out of the car you text him your location, so that he can head right out and find you, rather than you going into the terminal to look for him. He always was better at finding you.

The last night out had not only ended with Charles taking you home, but with a revelation. You couldn’t keep living like this. Loving him so much and not telling him was suffocating. It made you feel like you were on the edge of a cliff with nothing to keep you safe, and you were tired of it. So the question was, how did you tell him.

“Charles, I’ve been in love with you for ages,” you said, but shook your head. That didn’t sound right.

“Charles, I have to tell you something really important. I think I’m in love with you.” No, you shook your head again and groaned. “I don’t think I’m in love with him, I know I am.”

“Charles, you’re the most important person in my life, I don’t know what I’d do with out you.” Okay, solid start, you might have something with that.

“Charles light of my life.” No. “That’s too cheesy.”

“God, I wish I could put into words how much you mean to me. I love you so much I don’t know what to do with myself most of the time. It’s like I need to feel you to be able to breathe properly. All I really ever need is for you to look and smile at me and I’ll know that everything will be alright. I can get through anything with you there. If you love someone else it would break my heart, but knowing that you’re happy is all I need to be okay. I’d live with the thought of you loving someone else, because if they made you as happy and good as I feel, then there’s nothing more I could ask for.” Yeah, that sounded-

“Well it’s a good thing I love you too.”

You screamed, turning around to see Charles behind you in all his glory. Black sweatshirt and baggy jeans, hair messy like he ran his hand through it multiple times.

“How long have you been there?” you asked, face turning red enough to rival Ferrari.

“At Charles, light of my life.” He shrugged, like you hadn’t just bared your soul out to him. “Though, I disagree, it’s not too cheesy.” Could you get any redder? Feels like this is as red as a human being could get before self-combusting.

He’s just standing there, with a dopey smile on his face that you want to kiss, but you can’t. Something is holding you to the spot. You force yourself to say something. “Can you say something else?”

“Like what?”

“Anything else, I feel like I’m going to explode if you don’t say something.”

“Thanks for coming to pick me up.” He adds a shrug to the end and you narrow your eyes.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Oh, you want me to say that I love you too.”

“I don’t want you to say it if you don’t mean it.” If you were a kid you’d add a stomp to the end, as if you were throwing a temper tantrum. He furrows his brow like he’s confused and still you want to kiss him senseless.

“Well, I mean it.”

Now you’re the one confused. “What?”

“I love you too, and I don’t think I’d be okay if you loved someone else as much as I love you. Because I’m selfish and a terrible man and I want you all to myself.” He shakes his head. “I need you all to myself,” he corrects. “You’re the love of my life and if I wasn’t yours then I don’t think I could go on. But you said you do love me, so everything is so much easier now.” Each sentence is punctuated with a step closer, until he’s just a few inches from you, like he needs you to take the last step. You do, without hesitation, because you really would do anything for him.

Eyes glancing at his lips and back, you catch him doing the same thing. “I love you more than anything in this world. I’d give up racing if you asked, I do anything for you.”

Another glance at his lips. “I’d never ask that of you, Charles. But, I love you too, and I’d do anything for you.” His smile at those words would normally catch you off guard, like you’d stop breathing at it, but somehow it just makes everything easier right now. So you kiss him.

Leaning forward those last few inches to grab his shoulders and pull him down so you can kiss him with as much love as you can muster. If words can’t explain how much you love him then maybe kissing him will convey it. That you love him more than words, actions and thoughts can combine. You love him.

(And he loves you.)

[timdrakesmissingnotebook]

Scolds and Red Tulips

summary: damian wayne doesn't think he ever had a crush until, of course, you scold him for the first time.

pairing: damian wayne x reader

notes: okay so, maybe i liked writing these type of fics, they are fun!

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Damian doesn't notice at first.

He didn't notice how he started looking out for you on that crowd of students, or how he began to find new topics to discuss with you.

He never notice how he would steal glances at you, or how sweety his palms felt when you were around.

He didn't notice until after he almost beat a boy up because he was trying to get your biology project topic.

God, he was so stupid.

"He started it, (y/l)." He mutters, looking down at his shoes.

You sigh and put a hand over your forehead, "I know. But you could've talked to Ms. Halle, Damian."

"I fight my own battles." He spits, raising his chin, "I do not need the help of a teacher."

"You were going to punch him because he got our subject." You deadpan, rolling your eyes. Putting an accusing finger on his chest, you say angrily, "I'm gonna go solve this. You stay here."

Damian watches as you turn around and stalks towards the classroom again and feels his face flush a deep scarlet red, and not because he was angry.

And just like that, Damian Wayne realized he was head over heels for you.

_______________________II_______________________

"Richard, Cassandra, I request your help. Now." Damian says, grabbing both of his siblings arms and fleeting to his room, ignoring the weird glance his father gave them.

"Hey, what is going on, Little D?" Dick asks, receiving a nod from Cassandra when the three entered the youngest room.

Damian just shoves both inside, quickly locking the door behind them. The boy just stands there for a minute, a hand on the round hand as he tries to calm his rapid breathing.

"Baby brother?" He hears his older sister calls out and suddenly he turns around to face both.

"I have been... Compromised."

"What?" Dick inquires, stepping closer to him, "What happened? Are you okay?"

"Of course I am not!" The younger groans, "I don't even know how it happened!"

Cassandra tilts her head and scans him from head to toe, "What happened?"

"I almost punched someone-" Damian starts, ignoring Dick frown, "I was just trying to help and then she- she started telling me off! And my face started to burn and my heart started to beat faster and- I'm so stupid, how didn't I notice it before?"

"You have a crush." Cassandra states, crossing her arms.

"I do not have a crush!" Damian stomps, feeling his face flush again. He turns his eyes to his feet, then to his siblings, "I don't do I?'

Dick stares at him for a few moments and a gentle smile creeps onto his lips, "You do."

Damian freezes, his heart skipping a beat.

This can't be happening. No. Fucking. Way.

"Are you gonna do anything about it?" His sister asks and he finds himself without an answer.

"I don't know. Should I?" Damian replies and frowns, "I don't- I don't even know if she interested on me."

"I think you should." Dick nods again, "How will you know if you don't even try."

Cassie hums in agreement and brings a hand to ruffle the boy's curls, "Do something. I feel like you will have a surprise."

Damian glances between two and feels himself nod, a determined expression painted creeping on his face, "Yeah, okay. I need to go search for a flower shop."

_______________________II_______________________

Damian felt his hands start to tremble as he spotted you at the end of the hallway.

The, rather comically, large bouquet of red tulips feels suddenly heavy on his hands.

Closing his eyes, Damian breaths heavily and mutters to himself, "Okay, okay, I can do this."

He walks towards you with quick steps, taps your shoulder lightly and when you turn around he shoves the bouquet on your face.

Looking at the bouquet and then back up at him, you ask puzzled, "Um, hi."

"Hey." He replies, still looking down.

"What is, um, this?"

"For you." He frowns and finally looks up at you, "You don't like them?"

"I- I do." You say, a small smile creeping on your face as you gently grab the flowers. Bring them towards your nose, "They smell amazing, thank you."

Damian glances up at you, a blush covering his cheeks, "You're welcome."

"So, is something going on?" You ask, tugging a strand of your hair behind your ear, "Not that I don't like them, I just- This is kinda random."

"I... came to a realization yesterday." He breaths out.

"And that is.." You prompt him to continue.

"I like you, (y/n)." He says, looking down again, "And I've been liking you for a very long time. You are sweet, and smart, and kind, and, with all due respect, the most beautiful person I have ever met, so, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm totally enchanted by you."

You stare at him, a blush rapidly creeping onto your face and the grip on the bouquet a tad harder, "Oh."

Damian sighs and meets your eyes again, "(y/n) (y/l), do you want to go on a date with me?"

You two stare at each other, both faces crimson red. You look down and let out a soft chuckle fall from your lips. Looking up again, you nod your head, "I'd love to go on a date with you."

Damian shoulders fall from relief and he smiles, "Perfect."

"Perfect." You repeat, and tilt your head again, "And just for the record, I like you too."

Damian comes home that afternoon with a smile on his face and if he saw Richard and Cassandra giving each other a fist bump, he doesn't say anything.

[knightyoomyoui]

[COMMISSION] LIVING WITH VAMPIRES: UNDER THE VEIL OF NIGHT  | TWICE x Male Reader | CHAPTER 1: "A Nightmarish First Encounter"

Welcome to another brand new TWICE fic series of mine! This story will serve both as an adaptation and a soft reboot of the TWICE horror-comedy book titled “Living With Vampires” written by SaiDaChae29 published in 2020 which was sadly left discontinued until this day. For this one, it scrapped some of the parts from the original while others were kept and applied changes which will lead to its direct continuation. Special mention also to @nchris00 who ordered a commission and entrusted me to recreate this interesting story as his request. Hope this one won’t disappoint! Thank you so much again! -> Read the PROLOGUE here <- “LIVING WITH VAMPIRES: UNDER THE VEIL OF NIGHT” By knightyoomyoui Commissioned by: @nchris00 Part: CHAPTER 1 : "A Nightmarish First Encounter" Word Count: 5,879

2 YEARS AGO

I knocked at the house where there was an old man living in there that I used to help throwing the garbage every night. As he opened the door, he greeted me with a curious gaze as soon as he saw me standing in front of his doorway.

“Jeonghoon? What is it?”

“Uhh hey pops uhm… I was just wondering if you have some extra food left there?” It took some courage to ask that from him, since this is my first time begging from somebody straight into their home for some food to eat. Also, I just did this now from him because he only just know me as a hobo who helps people throw trash in their neighboorhood.

“I already ate the leftovers that I collected few days ago so… if you won’t mind, can I-”

“You came at the right time, Jeonghoon. Ofcourse I will.” He nodded understandably after cutting off my words. I didn’t find it disrespectful at all now that he responded the same thing I was expecting for him to say to me.

He left me in his doorway to grab something from his kitchen. I heard some metal clanging and probably procelains, maybe grabbing something from the plates. I was curious but I remained in his doorway, without any intention to come inside and do something that would break his trust.

Because I will never do that. I may have know how it feels to lose something… but just because it happened worse to me that doesn’t mean I have to make others feel what I felt.

It’s painful, enough to have your life get destroyed in an instant.

Which is what I’ve been going through these days. Imagine I was having these things for me too until that person I thought would be the nicest one among everyone took it all away from me and didn’t spare nothing.

I didn’t noticed I was too occupied at my thoughts when pops here even had to pat my chest twice to steal my attention. “Hey, are you okay young guy? You must be spacing out.”

“Oh u-uhm… I-I’m really sorry pops, I didn’t heard what you said.”

“No don’t worry, I just called your name repeatedly and you can’t hear me, so I checked up on you and I found you hear staring at nothing.” The old man waves it off for me. I looked at his hands and he was carrying a tupperware of the food he cooked for dinner.

“I cooked too much that I wasn’t able to finish it all, that’s why I said that you came here at the right time because I feel a bit dismayed at leaving this extra for tomorrow.” Pops said to me. He handed it to me and I accepted it.

“Do you want to eat here?”

“I would be honored, pops but I think i’m fine out there. I would like to grab some fresh air afterwards.” 

He nodded and he took my answer well. “Okay, eat well Jeonghoon.”

“Thanks a lot again, pops. Good night.”

“You too, kid.”

I bowed again to double the respect I have for his kindness and he smiled softly for me because I helped him close the door. I looked at the beef steak he has for me and probably this is the first day since I lost a home that I smiled with pure genuine.

I looked for some spare bench here along the road and thankfully I found one where I can sit and enjoy this meal I have tonight. I opened the container and smelled the food, oh it was surely mouth-watering and fragrant. 

I prayed as my gratitude to have this kind of food despite of my poor situation. Without wasting much time, I grabbed the spoon he gave for me and I ate my dinner in less than three minutes, an effect of the hunger I was tried to hold onto since earlier.

After I finished my dinner, I went to my scraps to place this in a plastic so that I can return this to pops tomorrow. Then I went back at the spot where I decided to sleep along with my carton as my sleeping mat to make myself more comfortable.

I laid on the couch and stared at the stars above, deeply wondering what the future still awaits for me even after my life had its rock bottom state. Will I still be able to save myself and get back up to slowly reclaim what I never lost in the first place or… if I will be lucky…

Is there someone else out there who will be willing to lend me a hand and assist me with it?

I don’t know exactly, but not gonna lie I don’t lose hope yet. Well, I just think that’s what I should do while I’m still breathing and living you know? I don’t want to waste this opportunity yet, that’s why i have to find a way to look for something that will add more purpose of why i’m living right now. 

I still believe that just because we lost something in our life doesn’t mean we remain worthless forever. 

Anyways, enough of these deep thoughts. I just want to relax myself and call this a day. I just hope there’s a karma awaiting for that person who made me like this. There’s no instances that someone can just ran away freely after doing something reckless to others who did nothing wrong to them.

I closed my eyes and breathe deeply before I let my body soak into slumber.

However, few hours later I suppose, well since I don’t have a watch or a clock -I do have my phone with me but it’s still lowbat since I didn’t get to have my charger with me when I got abandoned-, my ears caught something irritating that woke my senses back up even if it doesn’t want to yet since it’s still midnight.

It was gibberish loud and since it’s slightly audible, I can tell that those noises were coming just nearby from me. I slowly opened my eyes and I blinked rapidly as I try to hear the noises again that caused my peaceful sleep to be rudely interrupted.

I groaned as my reaction before I stood back up. The sound became much clearer now, and I grabbed some of the words they’re talking about. Not being overly interested in gossips, but I do caught that they’re talking about ‘paying something because it’s already due’ thingie.

I looked around to find out what it is, and what I saw didn’t gave me a surprise, it just explained why the sound was so close to me.

There are three kids being cornered by a tandem of intimidating guys cornering them from left to right as they ask them about something.

They’re too busy at what they’re talking about so I tried to hid myself from the nearby lamppost to eavesdrop their conversation more.

“That’s a part of our deal, and we told you that each of us would respect our rules and roles here. We let you borrow our money… and you have to pay us back on the due date.” The guy on the right said, and he’s talking directly at that tallest kid who looks like he’s protecting those two little kiddos he has with him from them.

“I’m telling you sir please, I’m going to pay for it I know about that! It’s just that what I’ve been saving as of now isn’t enough yet to reach that amount.” He replied while trembling in fear.

“And do you think it’s a good thing that even if you don’t want your deadline to pass, you have no choice but to let it? Do we look like we are nice enough to give a second chance?” The left guy said, stepping forward to scare the three kids more.

I understood their situation now. So this kid took a loan agreement with them and these guys are the sharks who are trying to collect the money they gave to the kid as per the agreement says. I get it that they’re just following the rules but… does it really have to come this way?

“Look kid, you better do something right now to pay what you requested for us or else… we are the ones who will look for an alternative.”

“And hey man, I think I know what we should took rather.” He grinned evilly at his partner on the right before his sight landed on the kids.

He tried to reach the arm of that little guy but the tallest one sways his hand away to avoid having contact with the kid. “Get your hands off from them!”

Wait… oh no, are they thinking about the kids being the substitute payment for this guy’s balance?

“Then pay us right now or else you won’t be going to see these rats ever again!”

“No please, I’m begging you leave them out of this!” He shook his head and tried to rid them away while pleading for mercy.

“Shut up!” The left dude pulled his wavering hand at them and shoo-ed him away from the kids. My eyes largened and felt nervous for this guy and what these dudes would do to the poor kids who are crying now in fear.

“THEY HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS!!!”

“WELL THEY ARE NOW, BECAUSE YOU BROUGHT THEM INTO THIS MESS YOU SHOULD’VE AVOIDED IF ONLY YOU COULD’VE PAID US!” The right dude locked his grip on this kid’s slim arm. It tried to force himself out of the hold until this kid tried to bit his knuckle, making the dude scream in pain.

“AAAAISSSHHH, YOU LITTLE DEVIL!” He shook his hand before looking at the kid dangerously and unexpectedly slapped its face.

“No… NO!!!” The guy tried to approach the dude but he only received a huge blow onto his midsection, shutting him off. 

I couldn’t take this sight anymore, so I have to do something for these younglings. I know I’m not that much of a skilled person when it comes to self-defense or challenging somebody in a combat but… I can’t just let these kids to end up somewhere with fate unknown in the hands of these bastards.

Stupidly, I quickly went out of my hiding and tensely approached the dudes who are double-teaming the tall guy before they try to bring the kids with them. I noticed also that the black van that is parking on the side of the road belongs to them.

“HEY! Didn’t you heard what he said!” My puny self yelled at them with bent toughness. “He said they have nothing to do with your problem, so leave them alone!” I said while I eyed the kids who are looking at me right now with their pitiful watery eyes.

“And who the fuck are you?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just a random guy on the streets that you two bitchasses ruined his sleep with your annoying rumblings.” I said with much confidence with them. This is the hilarious thing about me, I’m so brave at trashtalking bullies but when they come at me, I’m like a flower who easily covers itself for protection.

In short, I don’t know how to fight back with fists. Great.

“Well, is that so? We don’t give a shit about your beauty sleep, so turn around now, mind your business and you can get yourself back to your little sleep because we’re almost done here. How about that?” The left dude said as he tugged the hair of the tall guy’s hair, making him yelp at the sting it must have caused on his scalp.

I hissed irritably at the stubbornness of this loser. I sighed deeply then went back to arguing with them when I noticed that the dudes were about to carry the kids with them through the van. The tall guy looked at me, crying and pleaded.

“Please… mister… they can’t get away…”

“TYLER!!!” An old man suddenly shouted this guy’s name. I saw that he just came out of the door from this huge looking place. Then I figured out it’s name plastered on top of the entrance.

“ORPHANAGE”

Wait a minute? Orpha- so these kids are orphans? Now I know why this Tyler guy is so protective with these kids and highly concerned for them. Plus, their home is actually just right in front of them! That means they were about to head home when these bad dudes blocked them off from doing so.

“HEY, W-WHERE ARE THEY TAKING THEM!” The old guy saw the dudes carrying the kids who are crying and trying to wiggle off in their arms to escape.

I looked at them and breathe drelpy before I let my urges control me.

I ran immediately and just before they’re about to open the sliding door of their van, I pushed them both off into the ground, while apologetically involving the kids on the ground. I just thought that it’s the better way to stop them by getting distracted at the kids bodies colliding with them as they fall.

“GO, RUN!” I commanded the kids who were a bit confused at what I just did. I looked at both of them and they got my signal. They stumbled to stand but luckily they are able to ran back from Tyler and the old man. 

“You son of a bitch, look what you just did!” The dude who is laying down beneath me suddenly kicked me on the leg, effectively making me kneel on the ground at how painful it is to endure while standing.

As I was busy seething off the pain, the other dude took the advantage by blowing me in the back of the head with his hammered fists. I faceplanted on the ground and then I felt my entire body filled with shots coming from their attacks.

They kicked me with pure despise. It stopped for a while until I felt by body getting rolled and face up, the dude straddled me and gave me repeated punches to the face before my sight went blurred and complete black.

My eyes suddenly sprung up, and what greeted me was a view of a girl who seemed like she flinched a little when my eyes opened. Her head is upside down, so I figured that she’s looking at me from the edge of… wait, am I laying down on a couch?

“Jihyo-unnie! There’s a man sleeping on our couch!!!” The girl suddenly shouted for her Jihyo-unnie. I guess that was her sister or something but hold up, where was I?!

I made the hardest and most painful sat-up I ever did in my entire life, as I feel like my abdomen are tightening while I’m doing it. My head also feels a little dizzy so I groaned and hold it for support before I turned around.

And where the hell was I? Why am I in a very cozy looking room filled with women sitting around in front of me.

What I first noticed was the girl who is staring at me upside down, she is indeed on the edge of the couch on my side looking suspicious at me with her knitted brows.

Then on the other hand was the rest of the girls with her. The first one is wearing a purple T-shirt with a girl character on its chest, she’s watching the TV in the floor along with the pale-looking girl who I can almost compare her similarity to Snow White because of how bright her skin was.

The other ones on the couch were this girl with long legs, wolfcut haired, and in black t-shirt building a Lego figure on a table and the one beside her is a very gorgeous looking one with uhm… enticing thighs, sitting like a ball and very focused on her phone.

I seriously don’t know who are these girls and why did I end up here, but for now I’ll just leave what will happen to me based on their actions… but ofcouse that doesn’t mean I won’t do something about it.

“W-who are you?” I asked the long-hair girl with tattoos. “And how did I end up here?”

“I was about to ask the same thing about you, Mr. Nobody.” She crossed her eyes and popped the bubble gum she was chewing. “We just woke up and I just went down when we found you here laying so comfortably here in our dorm like it’s yours.”

Dorm?

Where in the blue hell am I actually am right now, seriously?

“What did you say? A dorm?” I asked her again.

“Yeah! Are you deaf or something?”

“I seriously don’t know this place. I don’t even have any idea why I’m here!” I felt embarassed when my raising voice accidentally caught the other girl’s attention, and now they’re looking at me with curiousity.

“Oh, he’s awake!” The girl in purple said. She doesn’t seemed to be frightened that a stranger is on a room with her friends, she rather sounds glee about it.

“Look wait, let me explain-”

“Tell that to her instead.” Chaeyoung flicked her head back when she sensed that a footstep is growing near from us. “Jihyo- unnie!!!”

“Yes yes I’m coming Chae, jeez.” This Jihyo said to her, sounding like she’s so done at this girl’s whiny voice. Oh, didn’t I just heard this tattoo girl’s name to be Chae?

While i was awaiting at this Jihyo’s arrival, Chae decided to scare me off with her gesturing me with her index finger that tells me I’m screwed… which was kinda effective and not at the same time because I don’t even know what this Jihyo can do and… her giving death warning isn’t suitable for a short girl like her with cute features.

I gulped but I hid my nervousness by glancing at her cluelessly at her. Then, a figure stood beside Chae, a short-girl one with large round eyes, almost had me questioning if she’s actually Korean or she’s half.

She was about to ask Chae but her eyes landed at me and just like how Chae greeted me when I woke up, she shared the same judgmental look.

“Who are you and what are you doing here in our place?”

“You asked exactly the same thing as this girl right here.” I pointed at Chae. “And I can’t give the answer as for you too, because I don’t even know how did I end up here.” I shrugged.

“Are you sure about that?” She raised her eyebrow to me, unsure if I was speaking the truth.

“She’s probably speaking lies, Jihyo-unnie! Who knows, maybe this idiot is an intruder!”

“Intruder?! I don’t even know how to lockpick or climb walls!” I said to this brat over here as I felt offended.

“Well guessing from that look of yours and how mysterious your identity are, you should be considered as one.” She traced my appearance from head and toe, as if she’s wondering why such a being like me is existing in this world.

“Look, I’m not as dumb as you think I am. I am very aware that such a hobo like me wouldn’t have even a slightest chance to enter or hell, own a dorm such luxurious as this!”

“Both of you, silence your mouths!” Jihyo stops me and Chae from having a war of words. “Chaeyoung is right, you better give us something you know or else we don’t have a choice but to call security and forcefully get you out of here.”

“Wait wait, I don’t know how but I’ll just tell you instead what I know!” I paused her after this irritating Chaeyoung even handed Jihyo her phone. She’s so obvious of making me look like I’m not very welcome here in their territory.

“But first uhm… where is your bathroom?” I said as my expression softened after sheepishly admitting that the nature is calling for my reproductive organs to release something in effect of my hydration.

“And what are you gonna do in there?” Jihyo questions me.

“She’s probably gonna try to run away, Jihyo unnie! Quick girls, block the-”

“I JUST WANT TO HAVE A BATHROOM BREAK, PLEASE.” I said as I hold my kidney spot tight, constricting my legs as I hold on my pee.

“Oh.” Jihyo reacted. “Cmon, Chae as if he’s gonna be out here by his own. Our lock is equipped with passcode remember?” She said as she patted Chaeyoung’s shoulder who seems sulking that she was proven wrong. “Anyways, the bathroom is on the right, you can see the hallway down here.”

“T-thanks”, I immediately stood up and bowed at them thankfully before I went for the location of it.

As I already reached the kitchen which is where the hallway that Jihyo mentioned was near at, I noticed that there’s another girl coming from upstairs coming rushing down and went for the fridge. She even ignored me as she just passed by at me.

I just gave her the same treatment and walked through the bathroom door but just as I was about to grab the knob and opened it, I heard what she said from behind that grabbed my attention.

“Ahhh… oh a fresh blood in the morning after a hangover is incomparably great!” 

I turned my body around slowly to look at Nayeon after what she just said, just want to confirm it if she’s joking or something.

But what I found out after was instead something much more serious to be like that.

I saw Nayeon holding a transparent pitchel filled with red substance on it while gulping its content with a glass on her other hand. She was kneeling in front of the open fridge.

It was like in the movies where a protagonist gets a camera shot where his or her figure gets zoomed in while the background shrinks as soon as that character finds something mind-blowing, that’s what it looked like to mr when I felt chills in my body.

“Nayeon, hurry up! I want that blood already!”

How in the fuck can they just pronouce that they are consuming blood so casually?! It’s nit even normal at all?!

Or else…

As Nayeon followed the voice where it came from, she caught my figure standing in the middle of the hallway, watching her in horror at the strange act she’s doing. I wished she didn’t even stopped, because she terrified me further when she leans away the glass from her, revealing her blood stained mouth.

“What the fuck… are you?” 

She stood up and left the kitchen as she starts walking towards me. I hurriedly turned the doorknob but it was locked. My heart beats even faster as I got confused and even more desperate to get myself away from this bloodlust woman.

It only stopped when my vision went back to pitch black as I couldn’t control my movement anymore.

I have no idea how long I snapped out, but in an instant i just recovered my consciousness back in this comfy couch again. This time, they aren’t around to be seen in what it seems to be their living room. However, I heard clanging noises from the back, I peeked to see what it is and there they actually are, all seated on their dining table with plates and foods all around their table.

The wolfcut girl was distributing the spoons for her roommates while the short-haired woman was assisting her on scooping up the foods for them. I was just silently watching them when someone caught.

“You’re back.” A girl that I haven’t seen yet spoke me as she faced her sitting posture onto me.

I just stared at us and she probably figured out that I haven’t met or know her yet. She chuckled and smiled as she realized it. “Join us.”

Her soft voice and elegant moves piqued my interest on her. She looks so gentle and very nice to get along with. Out of all the girls who I saw, my attention was pinned sharply at her. She just lets out an unexplainable aura that carries me to her.

I nodded and I stood up, which again caught their focus. Chaeyoung’s bright face turned back into an intense and angsty mood when she noticed me back alive again. Jihyo just looked at me seriously but my eyes averted more at this girl named Nayeon who was somehow avoiding her face at me.

I felt my heartbeat quicken again which caused my head to ache and feel a bit dizzy. I almost stumble but thankfully, the wolfcut girl caught my back. “You okay?”

“My head is a bit spiraling, but I’m good.”

“Yeah it’s better to eat first. I’ll give you a medicine after.”

She was about to direct me to their table but then I refused. “S-sorry, but can I go now? I don’t even have to be here, I’m sorry again for the incovenience that I caused-”

“Don’t disrespect unnie like that, now follow her and sit with us!” I didn’t expected that those inviting words, even though they were sounded a bit rude… came from Chaeyoung herself. I looked at her with shame and I just nodded in defeat. I don’t even want to try making this girl’s blood boil more if I already feeling weak.

Oh, great. Speaking about the blood.

As I slowly make my seat, my eyes are still staring at Nayeon who seems uncomfortable now with my look. I try to stop it but at the same time I’m just completely puzzled and disgusted at what I caught from her earlier.

“You can join us for breakfast, because what we learned about you gave me a bit of an assurance that there’s nothing wrong with you.” Jihyo said as she grabbed her spoon and fork before she nodded at the person in front of her from the distance to proceed as she starts eating her food.

It turns out to be the elegant girl sitting with the wolfcut girl and the one with tattoos beside her. “May we know your name first?” she asked me.

“J-Jeonghoon. Min Jeonghoon.”

“Do you remember how did you end up here in our dorm?”

I stopped for a while as I attempt to recall the last scenarios I’ve gone through, which was from last night… but it was like some sort of a missing puzzle pieces, because I couldn’t remember it entirely.

“A bit. All I know is just I beat up some guys because I caught them trying to abduct the siblings of this kid that they intimidate. I’m pretty sure I got knocked out, but… I really don’t know how am I now here, in this type if place with you all.” I explained.

“Someone brought you here with us. That person found you unconscious outside with a badly beaten body.” Jihyo starts to enlighten out the things I temporarily forgot.

“And you should be thanking right now at her.” She glanced back at the elegant girl who just smiled at me and nodded back. My eyes widened when I understood that she was the one who saved me. 

“I’m sorry if you haven’t met me a while ago when you woke up, I just went for some exercise in our gym.” She bowed her head. “My name’s Mina, and I’m the one who brought you here.”

“W-wait, but how…” 

“Since you couldn’t remember when you went through last night, I was a friend with the old guy who owns the orphanage and a guardian of those three kids you saved out there.” She started to narrate what previously happened. 

“He called me along with the police because well… lets say he knows me as someone he can entrust a lot about.” Mina shrugged. “I volunteered to get you healed here while the old guy reported the incident to the police so… that’s the reason how you end up here in our place.” 

I felt relieved and contented that I have an idea now of what I just did, that I was also responsible actually of bringing myself into here, sharing a room with these 9 girls that even though I never met them in my entire life, they seem to be good people and I can somehow try to connect and make myself trustworthy to them… in return of what Mina did to me.

“We learned from Tyler, the kid you saved that they were caught by the loan sharks and you went there to stop them from kidnapping his fellow orphans in exchange of his unpaid balance.” Jihyo said. “And your kind deed was enough to make me convince that maybe you’re not actually what we hope you won’t be. That’s why we talked about even thought Chaeyoung here was… still hesitant-”

“We still don’t know him, unnie! I won’t still trust him around us.” Chaeyoung rolled her eyes as she spatted a toxic gaze at her before returning to her food.

“Exactly what I was saying, but she was still right. We may be appreciating what you did for the kids Jeonghoon but… you got to prove us more. We still don’t know much with you yet.”

“But you’re now welcome to interact with us.” The wolfcut haired girl spoke to me with a nice smile. I felt grateful that they gave me a chance somehow even thought I ended up looking weird for them.

“Thank you so much, I will do my best, I promise.” I said to them, bowing respectfully. 

I started to eat along with them. While I was savoring how delicious the food was, my eyes caught this girl that I last seen drinking blood. I still can’t get it out of my head. As I get drown fron my curiosity, all of us flinched and got a mini heart attack when she suddenly stood up and slammed her fist on the table, towering at me with her deadly stare.

“CAN YOU STOP LOOKING WITH ME, I COULDN’T EAT PEACEFULLY WITH YOUR STARES! IF YOU WANT TO ASK ME ALREADY ABOUT THE BLOOD I DRANK EARLIER, THEN FREAKING DO IT ALREADY!”

All of us went silent while I found the other girl with bangs slapped her head frustratingly. We locked into a staring contest until Jihyo slids between.

“Nayeon! Calm down!”

“What did you just said, Nayeon unnie?!” Wolfcut asked her older friend which revealed to be her name as Nayeon. Her voice has sn evident disbelief in it. 

Nayeon realized what she just accidentally released in her mouth, so she quickly covered it with her palm as she nervously looked around at us especially to Jihyo.

“I-I’m sorry… I-”

“You heard her right.” I said as I still confronted Nayeon. “I caught Nayeon drinking blood from the fridge, even complimenting that it was the best thing to aid hangover.”

All of them gasped and this girl beside me who was using her phone earlier clicked her tongue thrice. Wait, did I mentioned already that she looks like the tallest of them all? Well, excluding me because her head is leveled just right on my shoulder.

“Do you girls know about this? Why is she drinking blood? What are you girls hiding from me?”

They all went suspiciously silent for a moment, my fear and nervousness is increasing my heartbeat’s rate at this point, being beware of their secret that hides their true identity.

“W-wait, Jeonghoon can you give us a minute to t-talk?”

“No more time needed, just tell me right away!” I stood up, feeling alarmed at them. They all posed a taken aback expression at my frightful demeanor.

“Are you girls belong in some crazy ass cult or what? Because you girls didn’t disposed the fact that she drank blood means one thing only that you girls know about this and this just seems normal to yall. Thinking that you girls ain’t normal makes me wanna leave this room already!”

“Jeonghoon, please wait!”

They all stood up at the same time, which even looked like more creepy to me. I stepped backwards, being defensive for myself. “NO! DON’T YOU DARE TAKE ANY MORE STEP COME NEAR ME!”

I looked at the door at the near end of the hallway, which helped me to plan what I have to do after. I gotta get out of this place as they all soon to come after me. I better hurry out and ran as fast as I can.

Just as I had a plan formulated in my mind, the elegant girl took our attention when she suddenly yelled that I couldn’t even consider if she actually yelled because of how light like a feather her voice was.

“W-we are v-vampires, that’s why!”

They all gasped unbelievably at their friend who just exposed and retreated at their guilt.

“MINA! WHY DID YOU SAY IT?!” The bangs girls got infuriated at her.

“I-I just couldn’t take it anymore. I can’t lie!”

“Shit… you all are…” I looked at them and soon the sight of them looking like these precious set of women goes shifting into this unimaginable monsters that I never wanted to come across with.

“Oh god… so that’s probably why you all took me, to feed me to become more healthy… so that later tonight you all can eat me and have my blood huh! You girls like the dark and a fresh blood, like what that girl said!” I hauntingly said while pointing at Nayeon who lowered her head, probably felt pain at my accusation.

“Guess what, you all can’t have it. Because I’M GETTING OUT OF HERE!”

“GIRLS, GET HIM!

I moved as fast as I can, sprinting to the door and tried to open it. I looked back to see all the girls except Jihyo, the wolfcut one, Nayeon, and the thighs girl not joining the rest who is chasing after me.

I realized that there’s a keypad underneath the knob. I remembered that Chaeyoung told me that I have no chance of getting out of here because their door is secured with a pass code.

OH SHIT! 

“HELPPP!!! HELP ME!!!”

I pounded the door as loud as I can before I felt the bangs girls tackled my lower part and pulled my legs, sliding me to the ground with my front colliding on the floor.

Meanwhile, Jihyo and the wolfcut girl was talking about something when I saw the tall girl suddenly speak with them.

“Just tell him the truth, unnie. We can’t do anything about it already. It’s too late.”

“Nowhere to run, Jeonghoon!” Chaeyoung said to me before she maniacally smugs and laughs. I saw a glimpse of her fangs growing wiith her pupils shrinking and eyes glowing into color red.

“GET OFF ME!!! NO, PLEASE!!! SOMEBODY SAVE M-RAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!

The three of them just watched the rest pulled my body away from the door as I clawed in the front while screaming in dread and terror, with my fate unknown being at the possession of these girls who turned out to be vampires in disguise.

[jedi-hawkins]

Flower Sniping

The Clones all deserve flowers! Or maybe they think you deserve flowers 😉 Either way, love is in bloom this week for the Clone Flowers Fic Event!

Throughout this week, May 20th-25th, certain participants will be posting their own fics of Clones and different flower themes that were selected! The participants as well as the Clones and flowers they will be writing for are listed below and links to each fic will be added as they are posted! 💐 Follow the tag #cloneflowerficevent to see them all as they come!!

Event Masterlist

Written for an event with

@arctrooper69 - Tup, Rex, Gregor

@photogirl894 - Hunter, Wrecker, Fives

@nahoney22 - Fox, Tech

@totallyunidentified - 99, Cody

@dragonrider9905 - Hardcase

@l-lend - Wolffe

Make sure to go check out their entries too, we'll be posting throughout the week!

Pairing: Crosshair x f!reader

Chosen Flower: Lilies, Forever Lily

Word count: 8.1k (don't look at me like that)

Warnings: Brief mentions of war struggles and death, suggestive fluff, some swearing, reader has hair, frienemies (briefly) to friends (idiots) to lovers, mutual pining, a bit of angst, Crosshair is somewhat bad at expressing emotions

Beta-read by @photogirl894

"So, why are you putting me on babysitting duty, Argus?" You grumble, rolling your fingers over a knot in your shoulder. 

"You're one of my best agents, Lieutenant, and this is important. I need your eyes on it." Your commandant says plainly, glancing over a few things on the holotable in front of you. 

You cock an eyebrow. "Seriously? The war has been going on for a year and a half. What's so important that the Republic is taking an interest in Scarif now?" 

Argus rolls his eyes. "Look. I didn't ask. It's some sort of deal that the Prime Minister struck. In exchange for food and medical supplies, he's letting a single squad come and scout Western Sector 14." 

"You've got to be kidding me." You scoff. "Sector 14? There's nothing out there, I would know, it's where I spent most my childhood." 

"Another reason why you're the perfect person for the job." Argus says with a smirk. "You know as well as I do, Scarif has been struggling. The trade routes rarely reach all the way out here to us. If the Republic wants to send some supplies our way for showing a few tourists around, why not?" 

You fold your arms across your chest. "How can I argue with something as logical as that?" 

Argus lets out a chuckle. "Then get ready to play nice, they'll be here soon." 

"When do I ever not play nice?" You tease back. "How long are they staying?" 

"Six weeks." 

A laugh escapes your lips. "The Republic better be sending the good stuff, then." 

"They're some elite team, Squad 99, I think. I've been told they're one of the best." Argus retorts.

Smiling, you roll your eyes. "That's not what I meant. If they don't have a bottle of Corelian whiskey, this won't be worth it."

Argus just shakes his head at you and exits the command center. "Outside. Ten minutes."

The squad's ship touches down gently and you adjust your rifle on your shoulder slightly, sinking your weight into one hip. As much of a front as you put up for Argus, you really didn't mind this assignment. It was pretty cut and dry; serve as an escort for Squad 99 while they sniff around the western sector for a few weeks. It would give you a break from the frequent relief missions you were usually running. 

Scarif hadn't seen any true action from the war so far, but the effects still reached the outer rim. Argus was right, the steady trade that once flowed from the core worlds had weakened to a trickle and now many of Scarif's provinces were riddled with conflict over the little resources the planet had left. That meant you were more often out running supplies, assisting in makeshift medical camps, or dissolving scuffles than anything else. 

Your interest in this squad increases as you realize their ship is a heavily-modified Omicron-Class attack shuttle. The ramp lowers and four men stride down, coming to a stop in front of Argus. The man in front removes his helmet, revealing a mess of long dark hair pulled back by a bandana. He holds his hand out to Argus. "Commandant, I presume?" 

Argus takes the man's hand. "Yes sir. Welcome to Scarif." Your commander turns and waves his spare hand to you. "This is my First Lieutenant, and the one who will be hosting you on your mission." 

"Sir." The soldier acknowledges you with a curt nod. "I'm Sergeant Hunter, Galactic Army of the Republic." He looks to the man on his right, who removes his helmet to reveal striking silver hair. "This is Crosshair, our sharpshooting specialist and my right hand." 

The Sergeant turns to his left, "This is Tech, engineering and data analytics." The soldier with goggles barely glances up when his sergeant claps a hand to his shoulder. "And Wrecker, weapons and demolitions." Hunter finishes, jerking a thumb behind him to the soldier towering over his comrades. 

"Right. Well, good to meet you all. The command center is right this way" Argus says, turning to lead the group deeper into the yard. 

"So, Lieutenant. How are the military operations going here? The Prime Minister easy to work with?" Sergeant Hunter asks you in a husky voice. 

"Hm," You have to stifle a chuckle. "I wouldn't really call us a military, Sergeant. We operate as a Coalition dedicated to the service of Scarif's people. The Prime Minister has his own division of special forces for ‘keeping order.’ We work with him, not for him." 

The soldier in goggles, Tech, takes a few quick steps forward to get level with your shoulder. "You use military ranks, do you not?" 

Argus steps aside to let you lead the group into the Command Center. "Mainly for ease of identifying our hierarchy of command." 

You gesture for the soldiers to circle the main holotable. "Argus is our main point of coordination and connection to the Prime Minister-"

"And the Lieutenant here is my first pair of boots on the ground." Argus says proudly. "You boys are in good hands."

A fond smile crosses your face at Argus' praise as you flip the holotable on, but you could swear the silver-haired sniper muttered something under his breath. Straightening up, a red pin highlights the command yard. 

"Alright. We're here." You say, pointing before motioning for the map to rotate and zoom. "Western Sector 14, where you all have requested to scout, is here. The base camp will be a few hours’ ride."

"We can't just fly in?" Tech asks pointedly.

"If you want to jump out of the ship and drop in with chutes, sure.” you say, shaking your head. “The jungle is too dense to make a landing with anything bigger than a one-man fighter anywhere near where you want to be." 

Sergeant Hunter glances at his men. "Alright then. Thank you, Commandant." He says pointedly at Argus. "The first wave of supply ships will come in tomorrow." 

"Fantastic, thank you." Argus replies. He moves to lead the group out the door and back out into the yard, but falters when he notices the squad's sharpshooter, Crosshair, sizing you up. "Is there a problem?" Argus asks, tentatively.

The soldier smirks, swishing a toothpick between his lips. "I just don't want to have to pull a civvy out of danger. We were told this planet was hostile." 

Argus' brow furrows. "I already told you, the Lieutenant is my best agent, and you'll respect them as such-" 

"No, Argus, it's fine." You cut him off, keeping eye contact with Crosshair. "If the soldier doesn't trust me, he doesn't trust me and nothing you say will change that." You take a few steps around the table to stand in front of the sniper. "By definition, yes, the planet is hostile, but they're bandits, raiders; people that have been driven to desperation. I can assure you, soldier, I've had my fair share of run-ins with them and I'm just fine." A smirk spreads across Crosshair's face and you narrow your eyes. "What?" 

"You called me 'soldier,'" he responds. 

You tilt your head to the side. "That's not what you are? Soldiers of the Galactic Army of the Republic?" 

His comrade with the goggles, Tech steps forward. "Technically, you are correct, but not many refer to us as such." 

"Well, what do they call you?" You ask, curiously. 

Wrecker, the tallest soldier is the one who answers this time. "Eh... Most people just call us 'clone.'"

You run your eyes back over the squad, each of them so different from the others. "You're- you're clones?" 

"You know we're GAR, but you don't know what we are?" Crosshair remarks.

"I didn't want to assume, the GAR does have a few divisions of enlisted nat-borns." You say simply with a shrug. "It’s not like you’re carbon copies of each other. Besides, it doesn’t matter how you came into this galaxy, you’re men, soldiers first before anything else." 

With that, you step past the sniper and back out into the yard. 

"We're packed and ready to go, Sergeant,'' you say to Hunter, gesturing to the group of gorsets standing tied nearby. 

Tech adjusts his goggles. "We're using equine species?" 

You shrug again, moving over to yours and stroking its face. "Only the rich can afford speeders out here. Plus, who can say no to a friend. Get your stuff loaded on the spare cart and we can head out."

Hunter leads his brothers back over to their ship and before you know it, they have their supplies all packed up. 

Argus grasps your forearm just before you mount up. “Be careful, okay?” 

You give him a reassuring smile, “You worry too much, Argus. My job here is easy. I’ll see you in a few weeks.” 

With that you slip your foot into your saddle’s stirrup and throw your leg over your gorset’s back. With a click of your tongue, it moves to the front, Hunter’s following closely behind. 

The first part of the ride goes pretty smoothly. You make small talk with the soldiers, or three of them, at least. Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker regale you with stories of their life and training as soldiers of the Republic and in return, you tell them your story as a nat-born. 

About an hour in, you come to a stop at a stream and let your mounts rest. You watch intently as the four brothers, take in their surroundings. You’ve always liked Scarif. You’d certainly seen a few other planets in your line of work, but Scarif and its dense forests always meant home. Crosshair settles on a fallen log while Hunter checks over their gear on the carts and Wrecker begins making friends with the gorsets. Tech, however, is wandering around with his face buried in his datapad. 

“Find anything interesting?” You say, approaching him. 

He looks up at you, his wide inquisitive brown eyes filled with excitement. “All the flora on this planet is fascinating. So many native species are unique to this biome. Of course, I researched them before our arrival, but to get to document them personally is a wonderful opportunity.” 

You smile at his curiosity. The clones’ homeworld, Kamino, probably left much to be desired. “Those ones are my favorite,” you say, motioning your chin towards some striking burgundy-orange blooms nestled in the undergrowth. 

“Ah yes,” Tech remarks. “Liliaceae Lilium Asiata. A fairly ordinary species though, not that remarkable.” 

You smile. “Their common name here is the ‘forever lily’ and while they’re not a rare species, they are special.”

“What makes them so special?” Wrecker asks loudly. 

“Here on Scarif, they’re often given as a sign of admiration or partnership. They bloom in early summer and also represent new beginnings. My father actually gifted my mother one when he asked her to dinner for the first time.” 

“That’s…actually quite romantic,” Tech replies. 

“And obviously it went well,” Hunter adds. 

A laugh escapes your lips. “Oh no, the date apparently went horribly wrong. My father made a complete fool of himself and accidentally tripped, knocking my mother into the fountain in the center of the village. There were probably thirty witnesses to the whole thing. My father’s family never let him live it down. When he asked my mother for a second chance, he brought two lilies. For their third date, he brought three. By the time they got married, he decorated the entire gathering hall with them.”

Crosshair hops up off his perch. “So why are you out here and not with them picking flowers, sweetheart?” He jeers. 

You cock an eyebrow at him. “They’re dead.” 

Crosshair stiffens at your response, but doesn’t retort. His brothers look at you with wide eyes. 

“Bandit raid,” you say plainly. “I was seventeen. Took less than a day for our village to be cleared out. Those who tried to hide food or resist were laid out in the street. A number of us survived and we made our way to the capital for refuge. That’s where I met Argus, and he gave me a chance to do more with my life.” 

Silence settles among you, the brothers unsure of what to say. 

You clear your throat, breaking their stupor. “Ready to move out?”

“Uh, yeah. Let’s go.” Hunter says, jerking his head at his brothers.

As you swing your leg over and settle into your saddle, Hunter catches your eye. “The color. I like it.” 

A soft smile crosses your face. “Thanks. I do too.” 

Once again, you take the lead, but this time your group travels in silence. The next couple hours are uneventful. Occasionally, Tech or Wrecker would point something out and you’d give a few words on it. A couple times, Hunter called for the group to stop, and you reassured him whatever noise he heard was probably just a kybuck. ‘Bandits haven’t been spotted in this sector for years.’

As you round a bend in the trail, your mount slows out of instinct. You can hear Tech mutter under his breath when the old buildings make their appearance. 

“Fascinating… Did you know this was here?” he asks. 

You glance around at the familiar ruins of your past life. “This used to be my home.” 

You pull your mount to a halt outside the largest building. “And it will be our base camp for the duration of your stay here.” 

“Do you come back often?” Wrecker asks hesitantly.

“Mm-hmm,” you answer as you dismount. “Once every few moons. It’s quite peaceful out here.” 

Crosshair’s brow furrows. According to your story, you all are currently standing at the center of the greatest tragedy of your life. He’s drawn to ask about your response, but his twin beats him to it. 

“You said raiders destroyed your village, yet you continue to return. That’s very brave.”

You smile at Tech’s words, pulling your bags off your gorset. “I wouldn’t say brave. It took me a while to be able to come back, but look at this place,” you say, gesturing to the buildings overgrown with flora. “You can’t even see the scars of the raid any more. No people, no conflict, no pain. With a little bit of time, nature came back and healed, same as I did.”  

Your response hits Crosshair in a peculiar way, but if you had asked him to describe it, he wouldn’t have had the words. Instead, he moves over beside you and gently takes a few bags from your shoulders before moving inside. 

The next few weeks pass with little fuss. The boys tend to leave at 0700 to go about their scouting missions and return around 1800 for dinner. Every few days, you’ll go along to lead them to a new part of the sector or provide information on the area. Most days you’re left to your own devices. You spent your first few free days setting a trap line along you r well-known foraging routes. Hunter had protested your hunting and gathering. He tried to explain they had brought enough GAR rations for everyone, but you were happy enough to prepare warm meals for the team. 

It didn’t take them long to crumble to your mouth-watering camp cooking, leaving the rations to be quick dinner solutions after long days. Hunter offered his talents once or twice to help you get a nice score, or Wrecker would help haul firewood back to camp. Tech even provided you with some new recipes you fused with Scarif-style dishes. 

Hunter took quickly to you, as did Tech and Wrecker, but the fourth member of the team always kept his distance. Any words exchanged between the two of you were more often than not snarky comments. Hunter would chastise him for it, tell him to stow the attitude, but you knew Crosshair didn’t mean it. And it’s not like you didn’t dish it back.

On this particular day, you were on your own. Crosshair had been particularly grouchy the last couple rotations, so Hunter had benched him for the day. Crosshair’s excuse had been a migraine, so you left him sleeping at base camp with a blanket gently draped over him and a canteen of water within reach when you started out on your own hike. 

It doesn’t take long to reach your shooting range. Your sniper’s roost is up on the crest of a hill that looks over a small hollow. Wooden targets are scattered from the undergrowth up into the branches of the dense forest around you. 

After taking a few practice shots in a crouched position, you lower yourself down onto your stomach. Just as you shift your weight onto your side to pull an extra mag out of your belt pocket, something catches your ear. A twig snapping, and it was from something much bigger than a kybuck. 

You freeze, waiting. After a couple seconds, you start creeping your hand down your thigh and gently grasp one of the throwing knives strapped there. The wind changes and something hits your nose, a scent - the camp soap. Smirking, you roll back onto your stomach like normal, keeping the knife tucked underneath you. You act like you're checking over your rifle, still intently listening. A couple seconds more and another twig snaps. Fast as lightning you roll over and send the knife flying. It buries itself into a tree - right next to his head. 

“Are you karking crazy?!” 

You sit up, a cheeky smile on your face. “That’s what you get, trying to sneak up on me, soldier.” 

He rolls his eyes. “You did pretty good, sweetheart, but Hunter would’ve noticed sooner.” 

“Hunter has been engineered with enhanced senses, that’s cheating,” you say, standing up and brushing the dirt off yourself. “Good to see you’re feeling better.”

Crosshair rolls his eyes. “I would’ve noticed sooner.” 

You smirk. “You are also enhanced, that’s still cheating. When do you think I noticed?” 

“Right before you threw the knife, when I snapped that twig on purpose,” he says, crossing his arms. “They’re stashed in your chestplate, you acted on instinct.”

“Wrong. I heard you when you stepped on that first twig, but I knew it was you when I smelled the camp soap. Very distinct,” you say with a wink. 

Crosshair gives you a look, maybe one of awe, but he glosses over the moment, looking out onto the shooting range. “What is this place?” 

“A shooting range. Never seen one of those, Crosshair?” You tease back, bending down to pick up your rifle.. 

He scoffs. 

“My father built it and taught me to shoot here,” you explain. “Part of the reason why I come back every so often. Here the rest of the world just melts away.” 

Crosshair steps closer to the crest of the hill. “Where are the targets?” 

Gently, you heft your rifle up off the ground and hold it out to him. “Have a look.” 

He hesitates. “Oh no, I-” Crosshair knows a sniper’s rifle is sacred. In the similar way as the Jedi and their lightsabers. 

“It’s okay,” you reassure him. “I trust you.”

Crosshair’s eyes stay latched to yours as he gingerly lets you place your rifle in his waiting hands. “Not as fancy as your firepuncher, but I've made a few modifications,” you say proudly. 

Crosshair turns your weapon over in his hands with a sense of reverence before taking his stance. His form is perfect, though that’s no surprise. Hunter and the others had told you all about their enhancements. You watch as Crosshair sweeps the scope over the range, taking inventory of the targets camouflaged in the greenery. One particular mark catches his eye. 

“That one down there, how do you get to it?” He asks, pointing to one suspended in a tree and swaying gently in the wind.

You smile, that target in particular is placed at an odd angle relative to the sniper’s nest. “Take the shot and you’ll see.” 

The sniper braces in his standing position and lets a blaster bolt fly. He nearly growls in frustration when the bolt barely hits the edge of the target. “What the-”

“Good shot,” you say, impressed. 

“That’s not the center.” Crosshair sneers, lowering your rifle.

“You still hit it. I don’t think anyone else could have made it at that angle,” you reply. 

“You show me then if you’re so good, sweetheart.” 

Paying no mind to his snappy remark, you take your weapon back from him and lower into your crouched position. You center your sights on the target in question and wait a moment for it to stop bouncing as much. Once you’ve got its steady bouncing rhythm down, you move to focus on a shiny chunk of quartz sticking out of the hillside. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

Your shot flies perfectly, hitting the quartz and ricochetting up into the dead center of the target. You look up at the Crosshair, making no effort to try to hide the smug look on your face. 

“Tricky girl,” he says, his eyes narrowing. 

“Got to consider all the angles,” you tease as you straighten back up. 

Crosshair reaches to his belt and holds up a couple shiny discs. “I prefer these.” 

“Smart,” you respond, shifting your weight into one hip. “And yet you still took the straight-on approach.” 

He smirks at you as you stand up. “Thought it’d be best to be direct with you.” 

“Oh yeah, what about?” 

“I don’t get you,” he says plainly. 

Your brow scrunches as you lean your rifle against a nearby tree. “What’s there to get?”

“Everything about you.” He shakes his head and runs his fingers through his silver hair. “I saw you when those scavengers came up on us scouting last week. You stared down the barrel of their weapons and tried to negotiate our way out. Then when they turned, you didn’t even flinch. You’re a good hunter, you’ve been feeding us this entire trip; yet you cleaned the wound on that kybuck’s flank and let it go instead of taking the easy score. Even with me, I- I can’t figure you out, nothing gets to you.” 

It takes you a second to realize that’s the most words Crosshair has ever spoken to you, and they didn’t even come with a childish jab. You just shrug. “I learned it's best to make the most you can with what you’ve got. I try to give everyone a chance, no matter how we meet and I don’t take more than what I need. I don’t have time to let things get to me; there are much more important, more worthwhile things to be taken care of. And if I can’t let something go, I bring it here,” you finish, glancing out at your shooting range. 

Crosshair looks you up and down a couple times, then turns his back to you to face the range. Then he speaks, so softly you barely catch it, “Do you mind if I let some things go here?” 

A soft smile crosses your face. “Of course. Here.” You reach back over and hold your rifle out to him, which he takes without looking at you. 

You can see his muscles shift as he lowers himself to the ground. Not wanting to intrude, you take a few steps back up the trail. 

“Where are you going?” 

“Oh, uh I was just going to go get some water from the stream, check my snares,” you respond, covering your true intentions. 

“You won’t have your rifle,” Crosshair mutters. 

“I have my side arm, I’ll be fine,” you reassure him. 

A soft sigh drifts from his figure laying on the forest floor. “Please… stay. I can check the snares with you later.” 

You try to hide your smile as you gently lower yourself to the ground, resting your back against a tree as Crosshair brings the scope of your rifle into position. And there you stay. 

At first, Crosshair doesn’t say much. He just takes his shots at your range, adjusting things here and there. After a while, you lean your head against the tree trunk behind you and let your eyes close. The sun is filtering through the trees as it rises higher in the sky, and birds are softly chirping. It’s peaceful, like always, and the rhythmic pattern of Crosshair’s shots roll through the forest like a heartbeat. 

You don’t know how much time has passed when you hear him shift.

“Here.”

Straightening up, you open your eyes and see he’s sitting cross legged, holding your rifle out. 

You take it back from him and move to stand up. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, still sitting on the ground. 

You tilt your head at him, for him saying he couldn’t figure you out, he seems to be the odd one. “The snares?”

“It’s your turn to shoot.” 

“Oh it’s fine,” you say, waving your hand.

You shift your weight again to stand, but this time Crosshair reaches out and grasps your bracer. “That’s what you were coming out here to do anyway, right? I interrupted you.” 

His words are so different from the ones that normally pass between the two of you. Not gentle, necessarily, but less defensive. You take a breath before nodding your head, just barely. Crosshair scoots out of your way. If you weren’t so focused on making the space between you a place where he could be open, you might have giggled at the way he moved, still in his cross-legged position. 

You slowly lower yourself onto your belly and bring your scope to your eye. Crosshair had adjusted things slightly, but strangely you didn’t mind. Usually it would irk you if someone had moved things on your rifle, but you had handed him your weapon of your own volition. It was nice to know that he felt so comfortable with you and had handled your rifle with such care and reverence. You take a few shots, aiming at various targets over the range. 

As you sit up to replace the mag, you notice Crosshair is studying you intently. You smile. “What?” 

The corner of his mouth twitches. “You’re a skilled sharpshooter. You even pace with your breath, impressive.” 

You rock back on your heels. “Took me some time to get it, but practice makes perfect.” 

Crosshair smirks at you, but not unkindly. “And that you are, nearly. Perfect- I mean…” He trails off. Again, You might have giggled at this newfound temperament, but you simply dust off your rifle a bit. 

“Oh yeah? Got any pointers for me?” you reply. 

The sniper moves closer to you. “If you’ll actually listen,” he jabs.

You chuckle. “I’m always listening.”

He gestures for you to take your prone position again and makes a few adjustments to your limbs. The time flies away from you as the two of you pass your rifle back and forth along with small conversation and stories. Crosshair doesn’t exactly soften, but he does open up to you a bit more. 

In giving you some pointers, he’s the most comfortable you’ve seen him the whole mission. Instruction and leadership are clearly his elements. You’re surprised at how attentive he is, continuously checking in that the adjustments he makes feel correct for your body. 

‘Every marksman is different.’ He had said. ‘Even if it’s the ‘correct’ way, if it doesn’t feel natural for you, then you’ll be tense or unstable and then it’s all pointless.’

You learn more than just that. Before you know it, Crosshair is telling you about his brothers, more than even Tech had told you. ‘Hunter’s helmet is specially modified to dampen his senses when needed.’ - ‘Although Tech is the smartest at basically everything, Wrecker beats him with weapons and explosives.’ - ‘Tech and I came from the same tube.’ - ‘Wrecker can tell you every ingredient in a ration pack just by tasting it.’

Some facts surprise you, like the fact that while Hunter has enhanced eyesight across the whole spectrum, Crosshair is actually farsighted and he has his holopad on the biggest text size to avoid wearing the reading glasses Tech made him. Other facts aren’t as much of a surprise, like the scar on Hunter’s chin was a gift from Crosshair when they were roughhousing as cadets. 

Crosshair even tells you what it was like growing up as ‘special’ clones on Kamino. ‘Clones are outsiders among the nat-borns of the galaxy. We were outsiders even among the clones.’ - ‘The advanced growth rate meant that for a few years from bio age 7-18 our joints always hurt. The bumps and bruises from training just blended it all together.’

You had no idea Crosshair could be so much of a talker, and he even chuckles a few times at his own stories or your side remarks. The conversation was far from annoying, though. You sat and listened intently, basking in his sudden willingness to share. Without warning, your chrono beeps, cutting one of his sentences short. You glance down and gasp at the time. 

“Everything okay?” Crosshair asks, his brow furrowing.

“We’ve been here all day.” You say. “We have to hurry if we’re going to walk the traps and get back to camp to meet the others.” 

Crosshair shoots to his feet, his jaw tense. 

Guilt settles in your stomach. “I’m sorry.” You look up at him, but he refuses to meet your eyes. “I was enjoying it here, but-”

“We have to go.” He says in a gruff voice. The walls are back up.

You solemnly gather your gear and the two of you walk your snare lines in silence. You’re tempted to respark the conversation you two had been sharing, but you can tell the moment is lost, and pushing would be futile. 

When you arrive back at base camp, the others are already milling about preparing the dinner rations. Hunter glances between you and Crosshair as you enter the camp, but says nothing. Not even when he notices Crosshair is the one carrying the score from your traps. 

Dinner is served as normal, but Crosshair takes his into the building serving as your bunk house rather than eating around the fire with the rest of you. You try to keep that sinking feeling out of your stomach to no avail. Had you pushed him? He was opening up to you, being receptive. Why did your chrono have to bring you crashing back to reality?

Your thoughts continue to swirl in your head as you wash up after dinner and you barely notice when Hunter appears beside you at the basin. 

“You okay?” He mutters, picking up a dish and swirling it in the water. 

“Mm, yeah,” you mutter. 

A chuckle rumbles deep in Hunter’s chest. “I saw you two today.” 

You can feel the Sergeant’s implication pressing in on you. “Oh yeah, he just got bored and wanted something to do.” 

Hunter shakes his head. “No, that’s not it. He likes you.” 

“He has a funny way of showing it,” you jab back, shoving the memory of your day at the range deep into the back of your mind. 

“He’s just...” Hunter sighs. “Figuring it out on his own terms. He takes patience. You’ve been doing well so far, just hold out a little longer and he’ll open up to you.” 

‘He was…’ You think to yourself. Instead you finish wiping the last dish and flick the water off your hands. “Well I don’t have forever,” you say shortly, turning to walk into the bunks. 

Grumbling nonsense to yourself, you turn the corner to your room and your breath catches in your throat. On your bed lies a single item. 

A bright orange and maroon lily.

After that day at your shooting range, little changes in your interactions with Crosshair. His snarky comments return, but his demeanor towards you does begin to shift. His morning jab was now accompanied by a cup of caf complete with a splash of milk, just the way you liked it. His hand was now the first to reach out when unloading gear to lighten your load, though it still came with some iteration of a sly ‘sweetheart’. There was even a time you had fallen asleep by the campfire and you woke with a blanket draped over you. Hunter swore up and down that Crosshair had been the last one to bed that night.

With two weeks left in the squad’s mission, you make your way to the range alone, lost in thought. At 0400, your comm had beeped with a message from Argus: you would be immediately moving on to your next assignment upon your return to the Coalition Command Base. A scuffle on Scarif’s opposite pole needed your attention, and reportedly the territory was still severely hostile. 

Though you didn’t want to admit it, your time hosting Squad 99 had been little short of a vacation. Just last night, Hunter had pulled you aside and offered you a spot on the team as a ‘Civilian Consultant.’ 

‘Even though we’re supposed to be a clone squad, it’s a way of skirting the rules.’ He had said with a wink. ‘It wouldn’t pay much, but you’d be taken care of.’

You had told him you’d think about it, but you couldn’t imagine leaving Scarif. Your people need you. As your thoughts tumble in your head, you nearly step on something as you break the treeline into your sniper’s nest. Not something - someone.

“You’re very observant today,” Crosshair groans as he stands up. 

“Sorry,” you say, shaking your head trying to clear it. 

Crosshair looks down at you, his brow furrowed. “Hey,” he says, his voice soft. “What is it?”

The moment your eyes meet his, the words start tumbling from your mouth. You tell him everything. The comm from Argus that arrived before the boys rose that morning. The stress that’s been on your shoulders as the First Lieutenant of the Coalition. 

You tell him about the pit in your stomach that grows every time you see a starving child, or a family ripped apart by raiders. Even about the pity you feel for the dying light in the eyes of bandits you arrest. How your homeworld was dying and there was little you could do about it. 

You find yourself telling him about Hunter’s offer, and your temptation to take it. How the allure of staying with the squad you’d grown fond of was near irresistible, but the guilt at your eagerness to leave your homeworld behind was clawing at your chest. 

Before you know it your breath is rising in your throat, your pulse quickening, your head beginning to spin, when suddenly your world becomes dark. It takes you a second to realize that you didn’t pass out, but your face is pressed to something… warm. Something solid and stable. 

The scent of the camp soap surrounds you as Crosshair presses you to his chest, one arm curling around you, the other cradling the back of your head. Your breathing begins to steady and your heartbeat slows to match the steady beating of his heart under your cheek. 

After a while you find it in yourself to mutter “Cross-”

“Shh.” He cuts you off, ruffling your hair slightly. “Don’t speak, just breathe for a second.” 

Another couple minutes like that and you feel your body begin to relax. Crosshair releases you from his grip and you feel your weight on your own two feet again. Again you try to speak. “I’m so-”

“Don’t say you’re sorry.” He cuts you off again. “You have a lot going on and a lot to think about. Let the rest of the galaxy melt away for a bit. That’s why you’re here, right?” He says with a smirk. 

You let out a breath. “I suppose.” Then you realize. “Hey, speaking of - what are you doing here?”

Crosshair rubs the back of his neck. “Ehh. Needed some time to think?” 

“You don’t sound so sure.”

He just shrugs. “I’ve never been… good with talking.” 

You smile but take a step back from him. “You don’t have to be. We don’t have to talk at all.” You say, your words gentle.

Crosshair’s deep honey eyes look down at you. “The thing is… I want to. I just don’t…” He sighs, then leans over to pull something from his pack laying nearby. “Here.”

You look down at what he’s trying to hand you. It’s two maroon and orange lilies. Their bright colors stand out against his dark gear. You take them from him, delicately and look back up. His eyes are searching your face for any sign of caution. 

His shoulders relax with relief when you take one of the flowers and tuck it behind your ear. “How’s the practice going?” you ask with a smile.

Crosshair’s face brightens a bit at the mention of sharpshooting. “Good. I was hoping you would be here today. I wanted to show you something new.” 

Gingerly, he takes one of your hands in his and eases your rifle off your shoulder. Rather than handing you your weapon, however, he leans it up against a nearby tree. 

“Cross, what-”

“Shh” He hushes you gently, taking the second lily from your other hand and dropping the stem into the barrel of your rifle. He guides you over to the sniper’s ridge and picks his own weapon up off the ground. “Here.”

Your eyes widen when you realize what his intentions are. He’s giving you his firepuncher.

Ever so carefully, you let him release his prized rifle into your grip. “Hmm,” you hum as your hands dip with its weight. “I assumed it would be heavy but… wow.”

“Start on the ground, then we’ll work you up to standing.” Crosshair says, his voice steady. “Adjust the scope how you need it.”

You get settled and with him crouched beside you, you bring the scope up to your view. The sounds of the forest start to melt away as you zone in on a target. 

A little puff of air hits your ear as Crosshair leans close. "Be prepared for the recoil," he mutters in a low voice. "It’s strong, but don’t fight it. Whenever you’re ready."

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

The blaster bolt is nearly silent as it flies home to the center of the target. 

There your day melts away again as you and Crosshair pass a weapon back and forth. Fewer words accompany his rifle, but it feels as though more is said. 

The last two weeks of Squad 99’s mission pass uneventfully, but there is another shift. There’s a shift in how Crosshair treats you. After your first day at the range, he had warmed more to you, but now he’s like a tooka always at your heels. He’s not overbearing, just always present. 

You’re catching yourself smiling at his little quirks more and more. The way he can fall asleep almost anywhere, curled up in a tight ball. The way he claims he drinks his caf black, but you spot him sneaking sugar into it out of the corner of your eye. The way he’s always watching, even if his back is to you. 

He also seems more physically drawn to you. Of course, he never crosses a line, but in subtle ways. He tends to brush against you more when moving about your daily routines. His hands seem to linger on your body when adjusting your sniping form, and you could feel the heat of his palm on your lower back when he steadied you after you stumbled on a trail. His voice seems to drop and soften when he speaks to you, he nearly sounds like Hunter - it’s definitely genetic. 

Of course Hunter noticed too. After your second day with Crosshair at the shooting range, Hunter had pulled you aside again. You expected an ‘older brother talking to’ where he either would grill you about your intentions or warn you to stay away, but the first words out of Hunter’s mouth had shocked you. 

“You’re good for him, you know.”

“I beg your pardon?” You had instinctively said back.

Hunter placed his hand on your shoulder, you knew it was a gesture of his affection. “You’re good for him. With you, he can just exist.” 

“You’re imagining things, Hunter.” 

“I promise you I’m not. I know he can be difficult, but it’s not because he’s apathetic. It’s just a challenge for him to put words to what’s going on in that head of his.” 

“There are more ways to understand someone than with words.”

Hunter laughed at your remark. “Like I said, you’re a good match for him. In more ways than one.”

Hunter left the conversation at that. He didn’t push, but he would tease you under his breath about it. You hated to admit it, but Hunter was right, you had grown soft on the sniper and you would come to see the effect you had on him. His shoulders were less tense, his brow furrowed less, he turned his face to the sun more. Maybe there was something growing between you and him, maybe it was something worth exploring.

‘Karking Siths Hells. Collect yourself, woman.’ You scold yourself. You shake your head to clear your thoughts as your gorset moves around a group of trees. 

Here you are. The day had finally come for Clone Force 99 to ship back out. You didn’t want to admit it but it was hitting you harder than you thought it would. You were trying to keep that armor up, but you were sadly failing. 

When you reach the Coalition’s Command Base, the brothers immediately start moving their things back to their ship. Sadly, Argus had been called to the Capital so he wasn’t there to welcome you back. As you helped the brothers repack, each made sure to say their goodbyes.

Tech held his hand out, and you moved to return the handshake. Instead you found him grasping your forearm in a much more meaningful gesture. “It’s a physical form of farewell from our mother culture of Mandalore. It’s a symbol of respect and honor. You have been a wonderful host, and I will miss your company. You do not know how much it means that you not only answered my questions but returned them with some of your own.” 

Wrecker was next. Your hands seemed to dance in the intricate handshake you two had created. “I’ll miss having ya around!” He boomed. “I think you ruined the ration packs for me forever with your camp cooking. And Lieutenant? Thank you, for seeing us as more than clones, it’s been refreshing.”

Hunter pulled you into a tight hug like many times before. “I know I don’t need to say it, but take care of yourself. Keep in touch, I need someone to chat with that hasn’t thrown up on me.” 

This made you laugh for the first time today. “That could be arranged,” you tease back.

Before Hunter replies he looks at something behind you. Turning around you see it’s Crosshair walking towards you. You meet him halfway, searching his face for any sign of what mood he’s in. 

“Where did you disappear off to?” You ask trying to ease into a goodbye.

“Nowhere important.” He curtly replies, shoving his helmet on his head.

You bite your lip. “Okay… Best of luck, Crosshair. Stay safe out there.” 

“You too.” He holds his hand out, but unlike Tech he just gives you a simple, firm handshake. Only he doesn’t let go. 

You want to say something, but what would be the right thing? The two of you always seemed to communicate through actions more than words. There you two stand for a moment, awkwardly holding your handshake, and your eyes drift for a moment. 

When you look back at Crosshair he’s moving. Before you can register what’s happening his helmet is smacking you on the forehead, causing you to cry out and clap a hand to the sore spot.

Did he just headbutt you? Or was he trying to kiss you and forgot his helmet was on?

He lets go of your hand like he was shocked, standing straight as a pole. “I uh… I’ve got to go. Keep practicing, stay alive.”

Without another word he walks, more like runs, away from you and up the Marauder’s ramp. 

Hunter appears at your side obviously trying to contain his laughter. “That was interesting.”

“What exactly just happened?” You grumble, rubbing your forehead. 

“A very Crosshair farewell.” Hunter sighs. “Look, I know that we aren’t exactly built for relationships or even plain friendships outside of the GAR, but… don’t be a stranger. We’ve all come to like you and Crosshair, he won’t say it anytime soon, but he needs you.” 

Hunter squeezes your shoulder and jogs up the Marauder’s ramp, leaving you standing alone in the ship yard. 

Sighing and shaking your head, you turn and walk to the Command Center to gather the intel for your new deployment. After sitting through a painfully redundant briefing meeting with a couple squadron leaders with sticks up their asses, you stop by the cantina for dinner. The food weighs heavy on your tongue like glue. It doesn’t taste nearly as good as beans and rice Scarif stir fry around a campfire with a choice four troopers. 

The supply depot is your next stop to restock your personal supplies and check that your shuttle was loaded correctly. You still have a half hour before your crew is due for deployment, so you head over to the base stables to see a friend. 

Your gorset has his nose on the ground of his stall, snuffling around for remnants of his evening grain, but he raises his head at the sound of your footsteps. 

“Hey there, boy.” You coo softly at him. “What are we gonna do, huh?”

As you scratch behind his ear, your gorset turns his head for you to get to the other side and a gasp leaves your lips when you see his mane. 

Woven into your gorset’s thick locks are three bright orange lilies.

Your back aches as you make the hike from the ruins to your range. Your last assignment had been far from comfortable. The relief mission was supposed to be non combative, just transport of supplies and giving aid to the rebuilding effort in Northern Sector 7, but of course you weren’t that lucky. A band of storms blew through while you were there, sending refugees into the town you were based in. 

Your forces were already spread thin and the influx of people hadn’t helped. Then of course the raiders came. You were able to deescalate the situation the first time they showed up, but the second time they stormed the town with ballistics. The stockpile was pretty depleted at that point so at the very least the Coalition didn’t lose much. 

Argus had taken pity on you and said you had a week before he’d even think about shipping you out again, so you decided to go home for a few days. You hadn’t been back in months, much longer than usual, not since them.

The peaceful ruins of your village had felt emptier that morning when you’d arrived. You half-expected Wrecker to come barreling through the brush asking about dinner, or for Tech to appear beside you with some obscure question about your home world. 

You had to admit you did miss Hunter, he had his way of knowing what was going on with you without even asking. Though the temptation was there to take his offer and join the squad, you just couldn’t leave Scarif and her people. Hunter didn’t blame you though, he knew the pressure you were under as the Coalition’s First Lieutenant. Who would’ve done the job if you left?

You had exchanged comm frequencies with Hunter, but hadn’t heard anything from them, about anything. Not that you were expecting to. The fourth member of Squad 99 lingered on your mind more than the others, but it’s not like you were pining after him. 

Crosshair had made you no promises, nor had you him. You just wondered where he was, what his missions were. You wondered if he was okay, not just physically, but under the armor he put up around himself. 

The sun is already high in the sky when you reach your range. You take a couple minutes to go over your rifle, then take your standing position.

Your sore muscles shift as you bring your rifle up to your view and set the barrel on the rest you added to your shoulder plate. You sweep the range, checking the status of your targets, but stutter when you notice something nestled in the foliage.

 A bright orange lily.

Shaking your head, you keep sweeping the range, then you spot another lily. Then another, and another. Your mouth drops open as you lower your weapon. It couldn't be, could it?

The undergrowth behind you rustles and you know it’s him before he speaks. "Good to see you're practicing. We need you again. I need you again."

[hungermakesmonsters]

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Seven

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour, some of it gets a little rough. Some mention of an emotionally abusive parent, and readers problematic views of her own autonomy. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 4.5k

A/N : I think I've finally sorted the tagging issue.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX

MASTER LIST

Chapter Seven

“Are you alright?” Karen asked, pulling your attention from your pancakes. “You’ve been really quiet.”

Your cheeks warmed and you immediately felt bad; she’d shown up early to go to breakfast with you before taking you to the Met, and all you’d been able to think about was the Homeland agent who’d approached you the night before.

“I’m fine,” you answered, forcing a smile. “Just tired. We were out late last night.”

“Billy took you out?” She seemed surprised.

“He took me dress shopping,” you explained, reaching for your coffee. “He’s throwing a party next month and he wanted me to have a new dress.”

“Oh, his Vampire Night party,” Karen nodded and you shot her a confused look. “He does it every year, it’s to celebrate the anniversary vampire’s being accepted into society. It’s supposed to be a big deal but, for Billy, it’s just an excuse to throw a crazy party every year.”

“Does he normally invite the person who’s...” you struggled for a moment, not wanting to out-and-out state what you did in the busy little diner, “working for him when he throws parties?”

“Usually - I mean, it’d be pretty shitty to throw a party in the penthouse and not invite the other person living there.”

“So, the others, they all went to his parties and they enjoyed themselves?”

“Yeah, if there’s one thing Billy knows, it’s how to throw a good party,” she answered, fixing you with a look, as if she could sense there was more you wanted to ask. “Why the sudden interest?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, trying to pretend it wasn’t a big deal. “It just seemed like such an easy job and, I guess, I just don’t understand why anyone would do anything to ruin it for themselves. Do you know what happened to them once they left?”

You needed something, some sort of sign, to tell you that you weren’t wrong, that you were safe with Billy. And, if you weren’t...

Well, in that case, you needed to find a way out that didn’t involve going home with your tail between your legs.

“As far as I know, they all went back to their lives. Though there was one...” Karen trailed off, the thought alone making her wince. You shot her a questioning look, silently begging her to continue. “Not the last one, but the one before, she had to be removed by building security. She tried to come back a couple of times but she eventually got the hint.”

The one before the last one - so, one of the last three, one of the ones Madani thought was dead. She’d been fine when she left and she’d been seen a couple of times since. So, that meant that Homeland was wrong about Billy, right?

With your mind set at ease, you happily finished breakfast and, before you knew it, you and Karen were stepping into the Met. You felt like a kid at Christmas. It was everything you’d imagined and more. Karen could barely hold back her amusement as you moved from exhibit to exhibit, never seeming to lose any of your initial excitement. It was something you’d always wanted to do, filled with things you’d always wanted to see.

By lunch time, poor Karen needed to sit down, and you needed a coffee so you ended up in the cafe. When Karen headed to the bathroom, you looked over the map, making a mental note of what you’ve seen and what you still wanted to see. Distracted, you didn’t notice the figure beside you until she’d taken a seat. The Homeland agent, Madani.

“Are you following me?” You demanded, keeping your voice low.

“I’m trying to keep you safe,” Madani answered, ignoring your sharp tone. “Have you thought any more about what we discussed last night?”

“Look, I don’t know what you think you know, but I’m pretty sure Billy hasn’t done anything wrong.”

She fumbled with her pocket, quickly pulling out her phone and showing it to you. “These are the three missing women; Layla El-Faouly, Krista Dumont and Mary Poots.” With each name she moved to a different photo, letting you see each of the missing women. “Has he mentioned any of those names?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? Have you seen anything in his penthouse that might belong to them?” You shook your head, quickly feeling overwhelmed by all of the questions.

“No, and anyway, you said the last three women, right?” You asked and Madani nodded. “People have seen one of them since. She even got thrown out of Billy's building a couple of times.”

“You're sure of that?”

“Yes,” frustration slipping into your tone. “Whatever you're looking for, it's not -”

“Has Russo done anything to hurt you? Is he forcing you into a sexual relationship or have you felt like you’re being controlled?”

“What? No.” 

“You might not even realise that he’s doing it. Some vampires are very good at controlling their victims, Russo is -”

“He’s not controlling me,” you told her as firmly as you could, glancing around, hoping to spot Karen. “Can you please leave me alone? I don’t want to lose my job because of this.”

“I can protect you -”

“I don’t need protection, I need this job,” you told her. “Please, I wasn’t kidnapped, he hasn’t hurt me, and I know he hasn’t hurt anyone else. Can you please just leave me alone before you cause any trouble?”

“Okay, I’ll go,” Madani relented, “but I’ll be close by if you need me.”

You muttered that you wouldn’t as she stood and left, just in time for Karen to return.

“Who was that?”

“She was asking me for directions,” you lied, as you stood, not wanting to think about anything Madani had said to you. 

It was all crazy, ridiculous. You weren’t being coerced or controlled and you still didn’t believe Billy was capable of hurting anyone. Fortunately, there were plenty of exhibits left to distract you for the rest of the day.

By the time you returned to the penthouse it was getting late. You rushed to draw blood and to throw some pasta onto the stove. When you were done, you found Billy on the sofa, his eyes fixed on the view of the city until he heard you approach.

He smiled and you felt butterflies, and there was a spring in your step as you made your way to the kitchen to grab a glass for his blood before joining him on the sofa.

“You look nice.” His eyes trailing down your body.

“Oh,” you looked down at yourself and the skirt-blouse combination, “Karen took me to the Met. We got back late. I haven’t had time to change yet.”

“I’m glad,” Billy said, taking the glass from your hand, “I love your legs.”

Your cheeks warmed and you bit your lip. As much as Billy liked to pay you compliments, you still weren’t used to it. Honestly, you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to it, especially when Billy managed to make every compliment sound simultaneously sweet and filthy.

“I got you something,” he said a moment later, motioning to a large paper bag on the floor in front of him. Cautiously, you pulled it towards you and pulled out a large yellow, faux-fur blanket. “You can leave it out here for when we watch TV together.”

Butterflies filled your stomach at the gesture, but there was one thought you couldn’t quite shake; “it’s yellow.”

And yellow didn’t exactly match the dark and minimalist decor in the penthouse.

“It made me think of you when I saw it,” Billy shrugged.

The butterflies in your stomach seemed to multiply; it was a warm and happy colour, it was the colour of sunlight, and it had made Billy think of you.

Hugging the blanket to your chest you thanked him before carefully placing it back in the bag.

“I’ve got some time before I need to leave for work, if you want to hang out?” He asked as if he needed to, as if he thought there was any chance that you wouldn’t want to stay there with him.

As he drank, you told him about your day and every little thing you’d seen in the Met. And he listened. It seemed like he was actually listening, hanging on your every word, like he cared, like he wasn’t just indulging you and letting you run your mouth.

“Maybe next time I could take you?” He offered. “They do night openings a few times a month.”

“I’d love that,” you answered without a moment's hesitation.

“Really?”

“Of course. I like spending time with you.”

He finished his drink and quickly put the glass down, licking his lips as he turned himself towards you.

“You like spending time with me?” He repeated. 

You couldn’t tell if he was amused or confused. “Yeah, you’re... different to the sort of people I’m used to being around. I like talking to you.”

“Just talking to me?” He asked, a smirk starting to tug at his lips. You felt your face start to heat again as your gaze dropped to your lap. “Still so shy, so easy to embarrass,” he muttered, placing a hand on your bare knee, “but I bet you’re already wet under this little skirt.”

Your breath caught and your thighs clenched together at the realisation that he was right.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look until you realised he was moving. You watched, confused as he slipped onto the floor, his hands on your knees, urging your legs apart so he could sit between them. It wasn’t until he started to slowly kiss your thigh that you realised what he was going to do. Your heart started to race, and Billy noticed.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his cold fingers tracing soothing patterns on your leg.

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat, cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I’ve just... I’ve never...”

“It’s okay, hummingbird,” Billy reassured you, smiling softly. “Just relax and let me make you feel good.”

While you managed not to show it, those words almost broke you. He always seemed to care about you, about making sure you felt good, and that wasn’t something you were ever sure you’d get used to.

Your cheeks burned hotter when he reached beneath your skirt and eased your panties down your legs, discarding them somewhere on the floor. But you didn’t have time to dwell on it. He pulled you towards him, lifting your legs over his shoulder while continuing to trail kisses up your thighs. Up and up and up, until -

“Remember the rules,” he told you, gazing up at you from between your thighs, “and breathe.”

Until he mentioned it, you hadn’t even realised that you were holding your breath. With a nod, you let out a slow breath, trying to steel yourself for this new experience. His cold fingers gently parted your folds and a shiver ran down your spine. You bit your lip, keeping your eyes focused on him until you finally felt it. His tongue slipped through your arousal, delicately at first and then with a little more pressure. You back arched and your hips pressed forwards, and you could have swore you felt Billy’s lips pull into a smirk against you.

He alternated between long, slow laps of his tongue and faster flicks, obviously taking note of your reactions. One moment he was focused on your clit, the next, you felt the tip of his tongue against your entrance. Your body shuddered, completely overwhelmed, and you almost lost your mind when you heard Billy groan.

“Billy -” you gasped, knowing that you weren’t going to last long.

“Not yet,” he almost-growled from between your thighs.

Before you could even think to beg, his tongue was against you again. Your fingers slipped into his hair, needing something to hold on to as your thighs started to tremble. It felt like you were being devoured by his mouth, his lips and his greedy tongue making you feel sensations you’d never felt before. Soon enough, it felt like his grip on your thighs was the only thing keeping you from crushing his head - it was too much and not enough all at once, you desperately wanted the release of an orgasm but you didn’t ever want him to stop.

“Fuck-fuck-fuck...” you whimpered, barely holding back. “Billy, please...”

It almost seemed cruel when you felt his lips on your throbbing clit, gently sucking. Your back arched again, trying to press yourself closer but his strong grip kept you in place. 

Your fingers tugged on his hair, twisting and pulling, earning another groan from Billy. Every muscle tensed and you felt like a spring coiled too tight, like you could snap at any moment. And, thankfully, Billy seemed to realise that.

“Okay, hummingbird, you can come,” he muttered, barely pulling his lips away from you. 

One more flick of his tongue and you were done for, crying out as you came undone. All the while his tongue kept moving, lapping the wetness that spilled from you, and not pulling back until your thighs were violently shaking.

While you struggled to catch your breath, Billy lowered your legs and rested his chin on your thigh, grinning up at you. 

“What are you smirking at?” You managed to ask, fighting back a smile of your own.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear before.”

You bit your lip, your cheeks starting to warm again. “I think the situation called for it.”

That got a laugh from Billy. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said before getting himself off the floor and sitting beside you again. “Did you enjoy it?”

Of course, you couldn’t answer. Once he’d asked the question you couldn’t even look at him. All you could do was give the slightest little nod, suddenly acutely aware that your panties had ended up on the floor in front of the TV and, as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t tear your eyes from them.

That is, until Billy placed a hand on your cheek, turning your face to his. For a few seconds he simply looked at you, almost seeming confused, before smiling again.

“What is it about you?” He asked quietly, his thumb softly caressing your cheek. “Why can’t I get enough?”

Before you could answer, he’d closed the distance between you, kissing you and sending you into a tailspin. How could he keep saying things like that, how could he keep making you feel so special, when he seemed so reluctant to - god, you didn’t even know. You still didn’t understand how this casual thing was supposed to work. The time you spent together left you feeling like there was something, a connection between you, but that wasn’t what you’d agreed to. It was just supposed to be fun.

But, surely casual fun was supposed to lead to sex, right?

“That’s not what I want to see when I kiss you,” he remarked, pulling back a little, leaving you even more confused until he clarified; “you’re frowning.”

“I was just...” you fell into silence for a moment, not sure how to say it. “Do you want me, Billy?”

“Do I want you?” He repeated.

“Yeah, I mean like -”

“Oh, hummingbird, I know exactly what you mean,” he almost laughed, his hand still on your cheek. “I’m just not sure how you can ask me that after I’ve just been on my knees worshipping you.”

Not knowing how to respond to that, you kissed him, tasting the lingering traces of your arousal on his lips and tongue. You pressed closer and closer, until you felt an arm around your waist, pulling you onto his lap.

“I don’t want to rush you,” he muttered against your lips.

“You’re not,” you answered breathlessly, sinking back into his lips.. 

He pulled you closer, positioning you so you could feel the bulge of his erection against you. The feeling alone was enough to cause your hips to shudder and buck, still feeling sensitive from his tongue. Billy groaned, his lips pulling from yours and finding your neck. You barely noticed the buttons of your blouse being undone until he started to push it off your shoulders.

Trembling fingers started to pull open his shirt, hands exploring every inch of cold skin that you revealed, feeling the raised lines of scars beneath your touch. Billy squirmed when your hand trailed over his shoulder, his body pressing up against yours.

Your heart raced faster when you felt him unclasp your bra. You barely had time to finish removing it before his lips were on your breasts, kissing, licking and sucking. Every cold touch sent a jolt of pleasure right to your core and, before you knew it, you were gently rocking your hips against him.

“Billy,” you gasped as his lips closed over your nipple.

Desperately, you dropped your hands to his waist, fumbling with his belt then, when that was open you started on the fastenings of his pants.

A yelp escaped you when you felt his teeth on your nipple, not biting hard enough to break skin but more than enough to give you a shock. An eager growl sounded in the back of his throat as he moved to your other nipple. But his sudden roughness wasn’t enough to stop you.

Despite his cold touch roaming your body, you felt hot, like you were on fire. Every deep breath you took was him; his cologne, his clean shirt, the products in his hair. You were intoxicated, drunk on Billy Russo. His fingertips pressed into your hips with a bruising force, but all you cared about was getting his zipper down and letting him possess you completely.

“My little hummingbird,” he muttered in that low, dangerous tone as his lips moved back to yours. “I’m going to ruin you.”

He kissed you again, groaning into your mouth with an unbridled want that seemed to match your own. The words didn’t shock you like they perhaps should have, they didn’t worry you at all. You trusted him to stay in control.

Clumsy fingers tugged at his zipper and -

“Shit!” You yelped as the zipper nicked your skin, pulling back from him, lifting your finger to your lips.

Billy’s whole body went rigid beneath you, eyes narrowing, dropping to the finger between your lips.

“It’s alright, I just -” you started and stopped just as quickly, looking at the small bleeding cut before looking at Billy.

His eyes seemed to get darker and you watched his throat bob uncomfortable as he tried to swallow. You squirmed as his grip tightened on your hips, holding you in place. The tiny cut bleeding in a way that only tiny cuts could.

“Billy...” you muttered softly, trying to soothe the monster inside of him.

Gingerly, you reached for him, tenderly running your fingers through his hair while you returned your bleeding finger to your mouth, trying to remove temptation. 

His jaw tensed before he lunged forwards, pressing his lips to yours, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, desperately seeking your finger and the tiniest drop of blood. You tried to push his face away, your hand on his jaw, your finger ending up between his lips.

“Billy, stop,” you pleaded, “please.” 

Suddenly you found yourself hitting the floor as he stood and moved away from you. It took you a second or so to get over the initial shock before you grabbed your blouse and covered yourself. By the time you got to your feet, Billy was halfway to the elevator, buttoning his shirt as he went.

“I’m sorry.” The words left you in a desperate and broken tone, not knowing what you could possibly say to fix the situation or stop him from leaving.

Billy froze, taking an uncomfortable breath before turning back to you, confusion written all over his face. His eyes moved from you to the elevator and back again, weighing his options.

“Why are you sorry?” He asked, a crack in his voice that made your heart ache. “You did nothing wrong.”

“I was clumsy, and I pushed you, and I -” you sniffled, blinking as your eyes threatened tears. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he told you, voice firm and certain, “that’s not what happened.”

“Then why are you leaving me?”

Billy was at a loss, staring as you tried not to break down in front of him. Your mind was racing over everything that had happened, over everything that you had done wrong - all the things that Billy seemed to want to ignore. You’d always been clumsy, never careful enough. Your mother had always chastised you, telling you that you only did it for attention, telling you that you were needy, criticising you for always wanting to be the centre of attention.

It was easy to spiral into those negative thoughts, to see all your faults and failings, to feel broken and unloveable. 

He stepped towards you, confusion softening into something more like concern.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he repeated, “I did. I almost lost control, I could’ve -”

“I shouldn’t’ve complained, I -”

“Don’t say that,” he snapped, his tone sharp enough to jolt you from your self-loathing. “I told you that you always have a choice here. Always. No one gets to hurt you, and you never have to go along with anything that scares you or makes you uncomfortable. Do you understand?”

On some level you did, you understood completely, you knew that he was right, but years of being made to feel like you were the problem were hard to overcome.

Reluctantly, he closed the distance between you, his hand finding your cheek, urging you to look at him.

“How you feel matters, hummingbird. What you want matters,” he told you. “I don’t want to scare you. It’s me, I - there’s something wrong with me, something I can’t always control, and you deserve better than that. I don’t want to do anything that you’re not a hundred percent certain about. I never want you to regret anything that we do together.”

It felt like your throat was closing up and your vision started to blur, it wasn’t until the first sob shook your body that you realised you were crying. The idea that you had a choice, that you got to decide what you wanted, and that your feelings mattered - no one had let you have that before. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you tight against his chest.

“No one gets to hurt you,” he told you again. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

Even from himself, though the words went unsaid.

He shushed you as you whimpered the word sorry again and held you tighter when you hid your face against his shoulder. Minutes passed, and Billy held you, not moving, not pulling away. Eventually you stilled, your breathing slowing and the sobs subsiding. But, still, Billy didn’t move. His hold on you didn’t loosen until you slowly pulled back.

Your head instantly dropped, the back of your hand trying to scrub the tear stains from your cheeks. One of his hands remained on you, resting gently on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered.

“What are you sorry for?” 

“I don’t know,” you finally admitted. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Do you?”

The question hung awkwardly in the air between you, neither one of you wanting to answer it. It was more than obvious now that you both had baggage, you both had parts of yourself that you were desperate to keep hidden, but it was also becoming clear that you weren’t going to be able to hide forever.

“I think we’ll have to eventually,” Billy told you.

As much as you hated it, you knew he was right. 

Silence lingered for a few seconds before you quietly confessed; “I feel safe with you.”

It felt important to tell him that, like everything else could come after. Despite his little lapses in control, you trusted him. He looked like he wanted to ask how you could feel that way after everything but, at the same time, it was clear that he didn’t want to know.

“Are you... okay?” You asked after a moment of silence.

“It’s complicated,” he said and, for a second, it seemed like he was going to leave it at that. “I just - when you’re a vampire, everything is so loud. Everything feels like it’s too much. It makes you want so much. Sometimes I feel like I can’t control it.”

You stomach knotted as you watched him struggle, the jagged edge to his tone furthering something he’d already let slip days ago; he didn’t want to be like that. He didn’t want to be a vampire.

“I feel like that too, sometimes,” you offered softly. “Not exactly the same but - my mom always used to tell me that no one likes emotional women. Whenever I’d get upset, she’d tell me I was being hysterical or call me an attention seeker. So I started holding it all in. I wouldn’t complain or get upset, I’d just pretend I was fine, and it made me feel like I was going to burst...”

Without warning, he pulled you into another hug, and you let him, your face pressing back into the damp spot you’d left on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, sounding almost guilty, like he thought he was somehow to blame. “You don’t have to hold it in with me, you don’t have to pretend or go along with anything that you don’t want.”

“I do want this though,” you confessed, stopping short of telling Billy that you wanted him, that you were starting to feel something for him. It had only been a few weeks but, already, you felt a connection to him, something you didn’t want to give up. 

He seemed torn, almost like he wanted to cut his losses and end things now, and you weren’t sure how you were going to make it through the rest of the year if you had to go back to how things had been at the start. That is, if he even wanted to keep you around. Technically, because of him, you’d broken your contract.

“You need to promise me something; if you’re ever not comfortable, you’ll tell me to stop, and if I ever scare you, you’ll tell me,” he told you in a firm and uncompromising tone.

“I promise, but -” you hesitated, not sure if he’d appreciate your condition, “- but you have to tell me when you’re not feeling well.”

Billy nodded and you sank forward into his arms again, holding him tight for a little while longer until he finally had to get ready and leave for work. And, of course, you felt terrible that he had to go and change out of his crease, tear-stained shirt before he went. He left with the promise of spending time with you tomorrow.

End Note : The Marvel name drops are mostly just easter eggs (and because I HATE coming up with names for side characters. I feel like a lot went on in this chapter but I don't actually have a lot to say about it. I'm just slowly piling on the mystery and angst.

Anyway! Thanks for reading! I've really loved all your comments and questions on this series. Have a great weekend!!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt. (I think I've found a way to get tagging to work properly again, please let me know if it doesn't tag you.)

Tag List : @vaguekayla @thdcre @rensolodriver @house-husband-of-castlemurdock

@snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @lincerad

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[sissylittlefeather]

Suspicious Minds: Part 2

A/N: Here it is! The long-awaited part 2 of my Modern Spy!Elvis fic! Bad news, though. It's gonna need a part 3 😬. There's just so much story to tell!!! Anyway, hope you enjoy it! Let me know your thoughts in the comments. Y'all know I live for your comments.

Need to read part 1? Click here.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, gun violence, espionage, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (both receiving), 69, p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of scars and knife violence

Word count: ~5.4k

"Ah, Agent Presley. You're awake."

******

Elvis breathes a sigh of relief.

"Agent West, you scared the shit out of me." He turns and pushes the door open for you. "You can come out. It's one of the good guys."

You walk tentatively from the room. The agent that sits on the couch is young and chiseled and looks hard, just the opposite of Elvis. Elvis is strong and masculine, but there's a softness to him that makes you feel at home. This man seems dangerous, but Elvis trusts him, so you suppose you should too.

"I see you've acted on your reputation, Presley." He looks between you and Elvis with a sly expression. You blush and look at the floor. Reputation?

"No, this is... it doesn't matter. What do you want, West?"

"The boss sent me to bring you both in. Apparently, you have a new assignment."

"I do?"

"You both do. She's working for us now." He gestures to you offhandedly and you can't help but scoff.

"I am not a spy."

"No, but you're an asset. They'll explain it all back at Headquarters. We need to go." Elvis turns to you and looks at you sadly. You can tell he was looking forward to spending more time in the safe house with you, but it doesn't look like that'll be happening.

"Go pack your things. Don't forget the extra special item." You blush again thinking about the flash drive tucked away in your vibrator. Nodding, you walk back into the room to collect your things. Elvis turns to the other agent.

"I need a shower. Can you watch her? I'll be quick."

"I'll bet you do. Yeah, I'll keep an eye on her." You listen as Elvis walks to the bathroom and closes the door. Once you're packed, you carry your small bag back into the living room where Agent West is sitting in the middle of the couch. You'd have to practically sit on his lap to sit down, so you walk to one of the dining room chairs and sit there instead. He smiles at you, but it's not comforting at all.

"So you fell for his tricks?" You look up at him suddenly, not really interested in discussing what happened between you and Elvis with this man.

"I wouldn't say that he used any. I just like him."

"Mhmm. That's what they all say." He snickers coldly and you could swear he's jealous. Still, something about what he says digs at you. Is this just something Elvis does? Do you really mean nothing to him? It certainly didn't feel that way when he made love to you last night. If you didn't know any better you'd think he was about to tell you that he loved you, as ridiculous as that would be after knowing him for all of 72 hours. Still, it certainly didn't feel like he was just trying to hook up with you. You're about to ask Agent West about Elvis's reputation when he walks out of the bathroom with his hair wet and a towel around his waist.

"I left my clothes in my bag." He walks to a duffel bag that you didn't even know was there and fetches some clothing. You can't take your eyes off of him as he stands there, naked and wet. The other agent watches you and laughs.

"She's hoping you'll drop your towel." Elvis looks at you with hunger in his eyes and you can tell he wishes the other agent wasn't there. West sighs loudly. "Alright, lovebirds, we really need to get out of here."

Elvis finishes dressing and the three of you make your way to Agent West's car. At first, Elvis protests leaving his Stutz behind, but West is insistent that you both ride with him. You slide into the backseat of the SUV with Elvis, but West cuts in.

"Nope. No sex in my backseat. You sit up here with me, girl."

"She has a name."

"It's not important to me." You roll your eyes and move up to the front seat. West pats your knee. "There, isn't this cozy."

You can feel Elvis bristle in the backseat when he touches you. Your whole body shivers and not in a good way. West backs out of the driveway and the three of you make your way to the undisclosed location that is Headquarters.

You're shocked when it's an old antebellum-style plantation home in the country with a crooked sign on the gate that reads "Graceland". It looks old and broken down, but there's a retina scanner at the door that both West and Elvis use. The door pops open and you walk inside a lavishly decorated living room. The two men head for a closet and you look at them suspiciously before stepping in with them.

It's an elevator. And it goes down deep into the earth before the doors slide open to a bustling office that's all white and silver and fluorescent lights. Your mouth pops open but you follow Elvis and West when they get off the elevator and head for an office in the corner. Inside is a very tall woman with fiery red hair cropped close to her head. She has on thick-framed black glasses and a charcoal grey suit that's obviously been tailored to fit her perfectly. She smiles when she sees you behind the two men.

"Hello. I'm Nine. Have a seat." She gestures for you to sit in one of the chairs in front of her desk. Elvis sits in the other chair and she dismisses West, who grumbles and leaves the room. "That man needs to get laid."

Elvis smiles and you follow suit. You're not sure if she was joking, though.

"Can I get you a drink?" She asks, casually walking to a bar area on the side of her office.

"Oh, no, I'm fine."

"Presley?"

"You have my water?" She nods and picks up a green bottle, pouring some water into a glass and handing it to him. Then, she fixes herself some kind of brown liquor and sits behind her desk.

"I'm sure Agent West has informed you that you have a new assignment?" You both nod. "For an agent, he's shockingly bad at keeping his mouth shut."

"I'm sorry, ma'am. But I don't work for you. I'm confused about how I have an assignment?" Without thinking, Elvis reaches out and takes your hand. You can't tell if it's a chastisement or him offering you support.

"It's okay, Presley. It's a valid question. The second you downloaded that information, you joined this conflict. We're assuming you want to be on our side."

"Oh, well, yeah, I guess so. I think?"

"Decide now. We have a jail cell waiting for you if you choose to work against us." Elvis squeezes your hand.

"I mean, yeah. I'll work with you." You nod fervently, hoping they really are the good guys.

"I'm sorry to be harsh, but this is a matter of national security. The company who contracted you works for an enemy government. I'm assuming you'd like to keep America secure."

"Of course."

"Then you work for us. Welcome to Guardian."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Agent Presley, take her and get her properly outfitted. Her code name will be Angel. The Colonel will have your assignment." She gestures for you both to leave her office. Elvis finishes his water and then puts his hand on the small of your back to usher you out of the room. His touch is electric and you long to be back in the safe house with him. This all feels too overwhelming.

He escorts you down again in the elevator to what feels like an armory. A short, fat man in glasses sits at a computer in the middle of the room. Elvis calls to him, resisting the urge to wrap his arm around your waist as he talks.

"Colonel! This is Angel. You have an assignment for us?"

"I do indeed, my boy. Come." You and Elvis make your way over to him. "You are going to take down the company that hired you."

"Me? Why me?"

"Because you already know their tech. And you're one of the foremost hackers on the planet. He will be your guard, an escort of sorts, but you will do the heavy lifting to get to the main computer that has access to their database and network. Once there, you will implement this." He holds up a small device. "This wireless transmitter will allow me to infect their system with a virus that will destroy it. Then, you'll come back here and be celebrated as heroes."

"That's it?" You whip your head around to Elvis.

"That's it?! Do you have any idea what it's going to take for us to get to that computer?"

"Honey, I've managed so much worse. This'll be nothing. I've got you." He's desperate to take you in his arms and really comfort you, but he knows he can't while he's in this building. He settles for a hand on your cheek. "I promise. I won't let anything happen to you."

You nod and try not to cry. You're dying to snuggle into Elvis's chest and let him hold you, but you get the feeling that you shouldn't while you're here.

"Ahhhh, my boy, do you have the flash drive?" The Colonel interrupts before you give in to your impulses.

"We do." He takes the bag off of your shoulder and digs in it to retrieve your vibrator. Twisting it open, he slides the flash drive out. The Colonel laughs.

"Thats certainly a creative hiding place. Give it to me. I'll put it in the appropriate place." For the slightest second, Elvis hesitates. He trusts the Colonel, but something about his eager expression is off-putting. Still, he drops the flash drive into his hand and puts the pink vibrator back in your bag. "Now, you said she needs outfitting?"

"Yes! She needs clothes and weapons."

"What's wrong with my clothes?"

"Honey, nothin', but where will you hide your gun?" You look down at your simple t-shirt and leggings. He's right. There's nowhere to tuck a firearm. Not that that's a thought you've ever had before.

"What am I going to do with a gun?! I don't even know how to shoot one."

"Well, I know where we're headed next. Colonel, can you help her out?"

"I'm on it, my boy." He disappears into the wall for a while and then returns with an outfit for you, complete with tall boots. He hands you the stack and sends you into the wall to change. When you come out, Elvis's mouth drops. Up until now, he's seen you in pajamas and your slummy jeans or leggings and baggy tee. Now, you have on tall black boots, tight black jeans, a low-cut black thermal that's basically painted on and a grey quilted vest. You've pulled your hair into a high ponytail to get it out of your face.

"I feel ridiculous."

"Why? You don't look ridiculous." You take your vest off to reveal a shoulder holster with two handguns and unzip your boot to show him the knife that's tucked there.

"What am I supposed to do with all this?" He walks over to you and tips your chin up to look into his face.

"You protect yourself, honey. On the off chance that I can't, you'll have to. You can do it. I'll show you." You nod and will him to kiss you. You can tell he wants to, but he doesn't.

The Colonel finishes outfitting you with tech and weaponry and you start to wonder if this is how you'll die. Either way, you have no choice, so you follow Elvis out of the dungeon-like room, armed to the teeth.

The next place he takes you is a firing range. There's space for a good number of people to practice at once, but for some reason, you're the only ones in there. He walks you to a booth in the center and then turns towards you. You think he's going to run his arms around your waist, but instead, he reaches into your vest and pulls out the two handguns nestled there on either side of your breasts. His thumbs graze your soft flesh and you both shiver. But, he's all business.

"Come here, baby." He puts one gun on the counter and holds the other one up to you. "Hold it like this. Three fingers down here and your trigger finger up on the side like this. This is the safety. It's on now, but before you shoot it you'll need to turn it off."

He puts the gun in your hand and moves your fingers into the right position. The feeling of his fingers on yours makes you tingle.

"It's already loaded, so you just need to cock it before you pull the trigger. Like this." He puts his hand around yours again and shows you how to use your non-dominant hand to pull the slide back. "Alright, now..."

He presses up behind you and runs his hands down your arms while you hold the gun. You gasp a little when you feel his rock hard erection pushing against your ass.

"Ignore that."

"Oh, okay." You moan softly and lean your head back against his chest. He kisses your cheek and whispers in your ear. "Honey, I'm tryin' to work here, but you're drivin' me crazy."

"I'm driving you crazy?! What's that in your pocket, Agent Presley?" He laughs softly and then kisses your cheek again.

"I'm sorry; we really need to focus, though. You need to know this." You sigh deeply and try to hone in on the gun in your hands.

"Okay."

"Keep both eyes open and look at your target. Pull the trigger." You do and are shocked by how much the gun kicks back and how loud it is.

"Holy fuck!"

"Good. Okay, let's try it again." You tremble a little when it hits you that at some point you might be expected to fire this gun at someone. He has his hands on your hips keeping you steady. When you hold the gun up again, your knuckles are white and your shoulders are up by your ears. "Baby, no, you're too tense. You gotta relax."

"I can't! What if I have to shoot someone? I can't do that. This was a bad idea. I can't-"

"Just breathe, baby."

"I literally cannot relax. I'm so scared, Elvis, I-"

"Shhhh..." He moves his right hand down to your core and starts to make slow circles on your clit over your pants.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm relaxing you."

"Mmmm..." You moan softly as he lifts your shirt and slides his hand under your pants and panties. As tight as they are, he manages to find your clit and drag his finger over and around it. He runs his left hand up under the front of your shirt and bra and squeezes your breast lightly.

"I thought you said we had to work." You whisper.

"I am working. Are you feeling more relaxed, baby?" You nod and whimper. He pushes his middle finger into you and pumps it in and out before he goes back to making circles on your clit. You set the gun down on the counter and brace yourself as he continues to flick over and around your sensitive button.

"Fuck." You moan through gritted teeth as you feel the coil of your orgasm tighten in your hips.

"Come on, baby. Let go. Cum for me." He whispers in your ear as he works you with his hand. He nibbles your earlobe and swirls his tongue on your neck just below your ear.

"Oh, god, Elvis." His name drips off of your tongue as your climax slams into you, washing over and through you with the strength of a rip current. You tremble and pulse as he massages you through your high.

"You feel better, baby?" He whispers in your ear. You turn to face him and pull him into a deep and passionate kiss, tongues moving wildly, as your hands go immediately to his zipper. You've almost got his throbbing cock out of his pants when you hear the door open. "FUCK."

He zips his pants frantically and jumps back away from you. To your dismay, Agent West walks towards you slowly, a cocky smirk on his face.

"Sorry to interrupt again. Nine wants the two of you to adjourn to sleeping quarters. You leave for the mission at 0400." He winks and it makes your skin crawl. "Separate sleeping quarters."

You roll your eyes and he turns to walk away. Elvis looks at you and you can tell he plans to pick up where you left off as soon as West is gone. But just before he gets to the door he turns back to you.

"She wants you to come now." Elvis grumbles and gathers your guns, making sure the safeties are on and sliding them back into your shoulder holster. You follow West out of the shooting range and back to the elevator.

******

Later that night, you find yourself tucked under a quilt in one of the bedrooms of the mansion that sits on top of Guardian Headquarters. You know Elvis is in a bedroom somewhere in the house too and the knowledge that he's so close by is killing you. Not only are you desperate to pick up where you left off in the shooting range, but you've gotten used to sleeping in a bed with Elvis. Lying in this big bed by yourself feels lonely.

What you don't know is that Elvis is sitting on the side of his bed missing you desperately too. He gets up and walks to the door, but stops with his hand on the knob. Giving in now would be a significant violation of his duty to the agency. It was one thing when you were locked together in the safe house with nothing else to do. Here, he has responsibilities to uphold and he needs to let you rest up for the mission. Still, he opens the door and walks into the hallway. It seems like he's not in control of his body as he walks to the door of the room he knows you're in.

He stands outside the door with his hand posed to knock for a minute. Then, he turns abruptly and heads back towards his room. He opens the door and then turns back to the hallway. Before he knows it, he's back at your door.

"No." He shakes his head and paces up and down the hallway a few more times.

Inside your room, you sit up on the edge of the bed and consider trying to find him. You stand up and walk to the door, but you don't open it. Instead, you stand there and think hard about what you're about to do. You know you shouldn't, you can't really, this isn't the time or the place. Still, everything inside you longs to feel him pressed against you.

He paces the hallway, back and forth in front of your door trying to decide what to do. Walking over to your door, he leans with a hand on each side of the frame, head down staring at the floor. You finally decide that you should find him. It's not like you're going to get any sleep without him anyway. So, you open the door slowly.

"Hey, baby." He smiles softly down at you from where he stands in the doorframe.

"I missed you-" You barely get the sentence out before he wraps himself around you, lifting your feet off of the ground and slamming the door shut behind him.

"God, honey, I missed you too." He presses his lips to yours and kisses you passionately. His arms hold you tightly to him. There's a level desperation in the way he kisses you that surprises you, but you love it. His hands roam over your body and he moans into your mouth when he realizes you aren't wearing a bra. He squeezes your breast gently and then slides his hand up under your sweatshirt, letting his thumb drag over your nipple. You walk backwards to the bed, pulling him with you, both of you shedding clothing as you walk. He slides your panties down just as you make it to the edge of the bed, already naked himself. You pump him with your hand and he whimpers softly. As you go to get on your knees, you bump into him trying to do the same thing. You both laugh a little.

"There's a way to do this at the same time. C'mere, baby." He sits on the floor and leans back against the low bed. "Put your legs on either side of my head and then lean forward."

You nod, visualizing what he's describing and climb onto his face. You lean forward with your hands on the floor and he hooks his arms around your thighs to hold you in place. He buries his face in your pussy and starts to move his tongue on your clit. You shudder a bit and then take his cock into your mouth, moving up and down slowly. Trembling with pleasure, you try to focus on licking up and down his shaft, pulling him into your throat deeply and then moving back and forth.

"Goddamn, baby, that's so good." He moans into your clit as he licks over and around it. You groan as you continue to slide his dick in and out of your mouth, your orgasm fast approaching. He whispers again. "Cum baby. Let go and cum."

He licks you furiously with his whole mouth, sucking lightly on your sensitive button and then tightening his tongue to lick over it, hard. You have to stop what you're doing as your climax hits you, rushing from your fingertips to the ends of your toes and back again like a lightning bolt. He continues to tongue you through your release until your legs shake and you fear you might fall over off of him. Instead, he guides you into his lap, facing away from him as you straddle his cock. You sink down onto him, letting him fill you inch by inch. He holds your hips and lets you bounce on him fervently.

"Honey, this view... don't stop." He watches your ass as you slide up and down on him.

"Do you like it, baby?" You coo from your position on his lap.

"Goddamn, yes I do. But I wanna kiss you." You back off of him and turn around to face him. He pulls you into a deep kiss, exploring your mouth with his tongue as he guides you back down onto his lap. You push his dick up into you and begin to grind on him, forcing him deeper and deeper. He groans loudly and leans his head back against the bed. You lean forward and kiss his neck and he grunts. "You sure know how to drive a man crazy, honey."

"Just you, baby." You mumble into his neck.

He wraps his arms around your waist as you move on him, leaning forward to pull your nipple into his mouth. He grunts again and you feel him tense underneath you.

"Come on, baby. Cum for me." You whisper in his ear and he groans as you nibble his earlobe.

"Fuck, I'm gonna-" His hips buck up into you as he explodes and you feel his warm release fill you up. He shudders and pumps into you weakly a couple more times, his head on your shoulder. Finally, he pulls back and cups your face in his hand. "You're incredible. Absolutely amazing. And I- well, I-I..."

You look up at him expectantly.

"You...?"

"Nothing. It's not important." You nod and lean your head on his shoulder.

"I'm so tired. It's been a wild few days."

"I'm sure it has. Come on." He moves from the floor to the center of the bed. "Lemme hold you? Please?"

You crawl into his arms and relax against him, your fingers playing in his chest hair.

"Will you stay here with me tonight?"

"I shouldn't." He looks away from you and loosens his arms around you. You start to pull away.

"I understand-"

"To hell with it." He cuddles closely against you again, letting your skin touch in a way that's both intimate and comforting. You drift off to sleep in this position, finally able to rest in his arms.

******

You've only been asleep for a few hours when the alarm on his watch goes off to tell you to get up and get ready. There's a bathroom in your room, so you make your way towards the shower. To your surprise, Elvis follows you.

"What are you doing?" You smile slyly up at him. You're both still naked from your late night activities.

"Figured we'd save some water and time and just shower together." He leans down and kisses your shoulder.

"It'll save water, but I'm not sure how much time." He laughs.

"Really, we don't have time for anything. I just want to stay with you as much as possible." He doesn't say it, but he knows the end of the mission will mean the end of his time with you and he's not ready for it. The way he feels about you is unlike anything he's ever felt for any woman he's ever encountered before. He's in love with you. There's no other way to describe it.

Your heart swells with his words and you turn and nuzzle into his neck, wrapping your arms around him as he starts the shower. You don't have sex, but pressing your bodies together as the warm water runs over you is as intimate as anything else you've done. And he kisses you all over: on your shoulders, your fingertips, your forehead, your lips, everywhere. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was trying to memorize you with his mouth. You run your hands up and down his body and feel the scars on his skin. Every time you reach a new one, he whispers the injury.

"Knife fight in Beirut. Knife fight in Ukraine. Gunshot in Afghanistan. Stabbing in Mali. Gunshot in Iraq."

"So much hurt." You whisper, kissing the last scar on his shoulder.

"It doesn't hurt anymore." He looks down into your eyes and his blue ones are soft and filled with something that makes your heart pound. It's only been a few days, yes, but you love him more than you've ever loved any man. Could it be that he loves you too?

He leans in and kisses you deeply and there's a pounding on your door.

"Ten minutes, you two." It's West again. You're getting very tired of hearing his voice. Elvis groans and turns the shower off. Once you're out, you get ready quickly, pulling on the outfit the Colonel gave you yesterday and braiding your hair tightly to keep it out of your face. Elvis has on a similar all-black outfit with weapons tucked in various places. The last thing he does is slide on some sunglasses and pull you into a kiss. He's never nervous before missions, but this time he is. He has too much to lose.

******

Before you know it, you have an earpiece with the Colonel's and Agent West's voices in it, telling how to execute the mission and you're being dropped on the roof of a building from a helicopter in the dark. Elvis skillfully guides you through the process and you find a hiding place to sit in while security comes to check out why there was a helicopter. As they file onto the roof, Elvis grabs the door and the two of you head into the building unseen.

"You need to go down two floors to the main computer." West is your navigator through the building and you are infinitely annoyed at his voice in your ear. Elvis nods to you. He has the same earpiece.

"Two floors, Angel, we can do this." You're not sure if he's using your code name or an endearment, but either way you follow him.

He gives you cover as you make your way through the building. Several times, you're stopped by security in the hallway, but Elvis puts them down with his hands or a single silenced gunshot. You hate to admit it, but you're getting used to watching people die.

Eventually, you find the room with the computer you've been looking for. There's not much to it and you're surprised that it just seems to be someone's office. Elvis stands at the door with his gun drawn.

"Do your thing, honey." You nod and walk to the computer. You begin the process of hacking into the system to access the mainframe and be able to plant the Colonel's virus. At one point you get stuck and ask the Colonel a question. He answers smoothly and something inside you sends up a red flag. How does he know the answer? It must be from research about their system. Still, it doesn't sit well with you. That should've confused him too. You look up at Elvis and he raises his eyebrows.

"What?"

"Nothing, I just... nothing." You go back to working on the computer. He hears West's voice in his ear.

"Agent Presley. We've cut off Angel's earpiece. New information has come to us about your partner. She's not working for us. She's a sleeper agent for the enemy. As soon as she gets to the mainframe, she will turn and kill you. You need to put her down first and then plant the virus." His heart stops and his blood runs cold. He turns to the door and whispers.

"What?! That doesn't make any sense! Why would she help us?"

"She's a spy, Elvis. Her mission was to infiltrate Guardian, which she has successfully done. She will pretend to plant the virus, turn and kill you, and then make up some excuse. She's probably already signaled security so that you'll be killed in a crossfire."

"She wouldn't. She's not... we..."

"You think any of that was real? She's been playing on your vulnerability since the beginning. Listen. Do you hear security coming?" He listens and hears boots outside the door. He looks up at you with a mixture of shock, betrayal, and pain. It can't be true. He thinks of that first night in your apartment, how you almost fainted at the sight of blood. But then you didn't. The crying at the safe house to get him to come to you. Was it a ploy to make yourself seem innocent? And in the shower when you touched yourself. That would be an effective seduction tactic. All of a sudden every moment you've had together is tinged with suspicion.

Has it all been part of your mission?

His hand shakes as he raises his gun to point at you. You're engrossed in what you're doing and don't even notice. He could kill you easily.

"Put her down, Agent Presley." He cocks the gun and the sound gets your attention.

"Elvis! What the fuck are you doing?" Your voice is frantic and you raise your hands. Has he been one of the bad guys all along? No, he's killed so many of them, there's no way. But maybe he's been trying to get you to this point the whole time: seducing you, making you trust him, making you love him, all for this moment. The tears slide down your face at the thought that it's all been a lie.

He sees you cry and his heart breaks. Surely, you can't be the enemy. But this could be a tactic too. He steadies his shaking hands and moves the gun to pointing at your forehead.

"Pull the trigger, Presley." It's West again.

"It's the only way, my boy. If you want to live." Now the Colonel is telling him to kill you and he trusts that man far more than Agent West.

"Elvis, please!" Your crying is becoming hysterical as you realize how cold he seems pointing the gun at your head.

"Do it. Now."

Elvis takes a deep breath and moves his finger to the trigger. He's never disobeyed an order before. You scream one last time as he takes a step towards you.

"Elvis!"

**bang**

******

Until Part 3!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb

[fuckmyskywalker]

Last line challenge:

¡ Rules ! : In a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like). 

Baby @king-chaos-world tagged me 😚

This is a Sam Monroe x Catholic!Reader fic ;)

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

He saw you almost daily, sticking out like a sore thumb with your long skirts, brushed hair, and clean nails. Sam Monroe knows little about religion— less about Catholicism— but he assumes nail polish isn’t allowed in the southern church you most likely never miss every Sunday. There is a strange interest in you, it has been there since he saw you, but Sam knows better than to… approach you. With the looks you give him, you might as well think he is a Satan worshiper, he might even pretend to be one just to scare you. How pretty would an expression of disgust look on your face instead of that permanent worried frown, as if you were scared of something he wasn’t aware of— probably God.

Sam thinks he knows everything about girls like you. Likely a virgin, carrying that miserable aura of “saving yourself for marriage” when in reality no one would want to marry you unless it’s arranged— not that you are ugly, no, in fact, Sam thinks you are pathetically pretty, for a religious girl, that is. Always wearing that white rosary around your neck and carrying that small bible inside your bag that he sees you reading during breaks.

The fucker thinks he knows everything about girls like you.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

I don't like to tag people so, anyone who wants to do it go ahead 🩵

[storiesofsung]

Yuu OC - Mulan ⚔️

Pt1 An interesting concept

I’ve always been curious about the direction that TWST could go in regards to MC being a girl.

One of my favorite examples of this being this fic by DuckInSuits on Ao3

Now this inspired me to watch Mulan because it is one of the most famous “girl disguised as boy” story (other than OHSHC) that I know of.

Since literally almost everyone is twisted off someone (idk who Jack is tho) +the Disney references that make me cringe sometimes just because I know the existence of Disney, why not make the MC also twisted off something?

(lol Grim as Mushu tho imagine)

I just feel like the in canon MC does seem like the type of person to kind of work hard with what ingenuity they have since they live in a worn down building and pass classes they have zero prior knowledge on.

And they do kinda use their brains to figure out shit, especially with the overblots !!

Idk i just think it would be an interesting dynamic to work through

None of that liar arc tho, that usually stretches on too long but like… yk

I really enjoyed the fic because it made us connect with Cater (and I believe Ruggie?) in ways the normal canon didn’t explore. It made me empathize with them and actually be invested in their relationship with the MC. And I like how it shows just slice of life stuff like MC making pancakes in Ramshackle dorm/needing feminine pads.

Moments like these really give us a moment to stop and breathe to notice the story’s surroundings while making it believable and lived in. It balances out action and pure dipshitness.

Pt2 “Also I really like Mulans songs”

Honor to us all + Reflection

in regards to this while listening to Honor to us All, it actually made me think of a believable motivation for my said OC, she ran away because she didn’t want to get married, and didn’t want to pretend to be someone else just for her parents (and by extension society) to accept her

Now I know this motivation is more selfish than not wanting your elderly father to fight in a war but remember TWST characters ≠ their twisted counterparts. (Ex. Rollo is less pure evil than Frollo). And I think this could be an interesting motivation since her journey going to TWST could make the MC realize her actions and make her decide whether she did was right or wrong (=character development)

A Girl Worth Fighting For

You cannot make me believe every single man in an all boys school is 100% feminism core.

I think that’s where a girl worth fighting for could come in. (Deuce not included he is a feminist) but the 1st year friend group being a lil (while unknowingly) sexist in regards to how they see a female romantic interest, then later drinking respect women juice after realizing the strongest (they fought 6 overblots stfu yes they are) one in their fg is in fact a woman (and later apologizing to her lol)

Make a Man out of You

It’s self explanatory based on what I said earlier but I’m not sure who could be Shang in this song 😭😭. Personality based it’s either Vil or Riddle, Physically it’s Leona (he would not give a shit other wise), unless it’s for spelldrive)

Summary: Overall this is more of a Yuu not based on having a love interest, but as a character based on an icon (✨).

This has just been on my mind for a bit about an AU that I do not have the skills to write about l…but it’s for all you girlies who prefer pants over skirts and generally dont like to be categorized as feminine 🔥

[14dayswithyou]

cw: domestic comfort fic with Moth (written for @z-shalltear <3)

"...Oh."

Your voice comes out soft — dulcet — so as to not startle your partner who was nestled deep within the fluffiness of your pillows, plushies, and blankets. Nothing but a faint light from their phone illuminates their face, but it disappears the moment their eyes fall on you. Giving you a soft smile, you watch as Moth sits up and offers you their undivided attention.

"I thought you'd be asleep by now." You return their smile in kind, though your shoulders can't help but slump even further from the fatigue that was slowly creeping up on you. "It's nearly three a.m." 

"I could say the same about you." Despite the playful glint in their eyes, Moth's voice is just as gentle as yours — much like the way they scoot back and lift the blankets to make room for you. An invitation, should you choose to accept it. "....Hey, y'okay?"

At their words, your resolve crumbles and your posture falters. You honestly weren't expecting to be met with concern — all you wanted to do was sleep away the problems and stress you've been dealing with lately — but it was nice to know that someone cared enough for your well-being to show genuine interest. And so, with a weak and weary sigh, you timidly walk over to Moth and settle into the space they once occupied in the bed.

It was still warm, comforting, and smelling faintly of something that reminded you of home.

"Mm. Just... tired, I guess." Once you're settled, you feel the blankets shift around your body before they're draped over your shoulders and tucked underneath your side. "Tired of everything."

"...Are you up for some cuddling?" your lover's voice comes from somewhere behind you. It was nice how Moth always seemed to ask for permission before touching you — lest it made you feel uncomfortable somehow.

So with a slight nod, you lean back into their embrace the moment you feel their arms circle around your body and rest underneath your chest. Your partner's chin soon draws near after a beat of silence; carefully tucking itself into the crown of your head to simply breathe in your scent.

...It seems you brought just as much comfort to Moth as they did to you.

"You feel like talking about it too?" Even though you felt safe in Moth's embrace to express what was on your mind, they still left enough room for you to decline. "Or... You can just tell me about your day instead? It doesn't have to be anything exciting. If you want, I can talk about mine."

Deciding you like the idea of having your lover's low, soft voice fill the silence; you offer yet another soft nod and gently rest your hands atop theirs. Unknowingly, your fingers brush against the silly little bow ring you gifted them upon a whim and it sends Moth's heart fluttering.

"Where to start... Well, I found this new anime recently — you might like it, actually." You felt them hum against your hair, "The premise looks really promising. It's about this isekaied retail worker who's been facing a lot of hardships in a brand new world, but despite everything they're going through, they keep persisting."

Moth pulls you closer to their side and gives you a soft squeeze.

"They... Okay, this miiiight sound cheesy, but— they remind me a lot of you. Very hardworking, supportive, resilient." You could almost feel Moth's smile grow as they continued, "Kind, helpful, determined. Now that I think about it, that character might just be a direct rip-off of you. Hey, do you think we could sue?"

An unflattering snort escapes the confines of your mouth at Moth's words, and you can't help but find yourself going along with it. "Pfft— You want to sue a giant production company?"

"Why not! Think of all the money we'd get once we win." Moth's head drops to the back of your neck now, holding you close as they continue talking. "Heh, we'd probably have enough to take a trip to Japan. Would you... Would you like that? It doesn't have to be Japan— anywhere is fine if it's with you, even if it's just to the city or back to Corland Bay."

"...You want to take a trip together?"

"Yeah! It'd be good for us, I think." If you focus hard enough, you'd be able to feel Moth place a chaste kiss against the clothed space between your shoulder blades. "We'd get a nice change of pace... and you won't be stressed out as much."

"Moth—"

"—I don't mind taking care of everything." All of a sudden, they sound serious. "Tell me when you can get some time off from work, and I'll plan everything. You won't have to worry about a thing!"

Moth's real name slips from your lips with ease.

Without missing a beat, you turn around until you're facing your beloved partner and rest your forehead against theirs — careful not to bump them with your nose. Soft, hazel eyes peer back at you, and before you can stop yourself, you lean in for a kiss.

Warmth and mirth flood your senses as Moth reciprocates with the same amount of tenderness, and for a brief moment in time, everything feels peaceful. Surrounded by nothing but pure love and adoration, you let your walls crumble down and let the light in. And just like a moth to a flame, your partner effortlessly gravitates towards you.

"Okay."

[brainrot-of-a-thot]

fair warning: this is another, somewhat emotional, word vomit post.

please feel free to skip this if you aren’t interested in reading it; it’s okay, babes, I won’t be offended. I’m creating this post as a means of expressing my emotions and my feelings (and, blegh, how dare you babes make me feel those) and there was no way I couldn’t do it.

so, got kinda bored and decided to poke in on my analytics and —

um, what?

babes, this is within a week. my blog has been active for 8 days.

now, for a lot of writers (myself included) seeing these kind of numbers brings a sense of pride, giddiness, and recognition. and of course, those shiny little things are addictive fuel to us.

but these numbers also say something else to me — looking at these, all I can think is:

all together, five thousand people have taken the time to read a post from me; and that post made them feel something in such a way that they left a note on it.

now, maybe at face value, that doesn’t seem all that important. but from personal experience, I know that someone can read a post, like it, and never interact with it beyond that. they don’t leave any notes or comments — they just scroll on to the next.

and that’s perfectly okay! when writers publish things online, it’s for people to read — whether or not they leave recognition or love on it. I understand and accept this fact wholeheartedly.

but the fact that someone took the time and consideration to do so means so much to us as writers.

what it tells me is that my post — my little, more-likely-than-not self-indulgent fic positively impacted someone. even if for just a small snippet of time, my words were able to reach someone and offer them a sense of comfort. made them feel something, anything.

and that is the joy of writing, in my personal opinion.

having the ability to completely turn someone’s mood (maybe even day) around by doing something that you already enjoy, love and cherish doing? that’s fuckin’ sick.

to be able to offer comfort to someone who may be struggling, to be able to offer them a means of escape from the harshness of the world for a bit, all with the click of a button? even fuckin’ sicker.

babes, I enjoy writing more than any other hobby — but after interacting with all of you, I enjoy it even more. y’all have given me the warmest, cutest, most (awesomely) overwhelming reception that, honestly, it just blows my mind.

and all of your comments, all of your reblogs, all of your requests, suggestions, and general compliments make me feel like I’m on top of the world — and now, rather than writing with just joy, I write with joy and purpose.

not purpose in a sense that, “oh, I have all these followers and I have an obligation to deliver,” but purpose as in “I have all these amazing, unique, patient, beautiful individuals who genuinely love what I do, who find comfort in my literal hobby, who feel safe and included with me, and I want to keep offering them that” kind of purpose.

it’s such a beautiful thing.

I guess what I’m trying to say, without all ooey-gooey feelings involved, is that you babes have changed writing for me forever — and it’s for the better. you gave me a purpose, many friends, maybe even a fan base (I kinda hate saying that because it feels conceited) and I couldn’t be more grateful. none of this — my blog, my ability to reach others, my newfound enjoyment in writing, would have been possible without you babes. thank you, truly, from the very depths of my heart and soul.

stay beautiful, babes <3

[thedrarrylibrarian]

I know I always say this, but it’s always true - I am so excited for this month’s guest reccer! To say that Grace, who writes as @mintawasalreadytaken, has excellent taste would be an understatement - she is a tastemaker. I realized as I was looking through a server that we’re both in that I read Coyote Ugly (which I recced a few weeks ago) based on her recommendation first! She’s also an accomplished writer herself, so if you like her rec, be sure to check out her works.

I leave the format of the rec up to the guest reccer - sometimes people use emojis, sometimes they give the rec as bullet points, and sometimes people prefer to write paragraphs. Grace asked if we could have a conversation about this fic together, and I eagerly agreed! I’ll be TDL below, and she’ll be Grace. Just as a heads up, there are minor spoilers for the fic below the cut.

Without further ado, I present the May Happy Hour Recommendation - in conversation with @mintawasalreadytaken!

I Do Not Love You by @writandromance (228,290 words, Rated M)

In 2013, a carefully-designed Obliviation leaves Harry reconfiguring his life and identity without any memories of true love; an act that's essentially erased Draco Malfoy from his mind despite a wedding band and shared home.

In 2000, Draco had expected Pansy's relationship with Luna to bring the Gryffindors a bit closer to his orbit of quiet, carefully pacifistic existence, but he never expected to navigate such a transparent embrace into a unit of family, friendship, and love.

A mystery, two love stories, and a reminder that learning to love never has an end date.

TDL: You picked I Do Not Love You for this month's rec. Would you start by telling people who have never read it why they should give it a try?

Grace: I think I speak for a lot of us in the world of fanfiction, specifically Drarry fanfic, that we're not generally known for being chill about our obsessions. So, as someone who's read a lot of hurt/comfort and angst, I Do Not Love You stands out to me because it does a number of interesting things with its key trope, amnesia. It's a love story told backwards, and a love story that's as much about hate and how hate destroys as it is about love and how love builds.

TDL: I appreciate that you brought up the love story told backwards - I think that's one of the best parts of this story. The way, especially at the beginning, that the two plot-lines contrast makes it stand out to the reader about what Harry's lost, even when Harry himself doesn't realize.

Grace: Mmhmm, agreed. We start very firmly rooted in Harry's POV, with an eventual back and forth POVs between Harry and Draco, at opposite ends of the timeline of their relationship. So there's this wonderful tension there, right from go.

TDL: I think that's something very smart and enjoyable about Writ's writing. She's very good at creating that tension and then trusting the reader with it. She’s excellent at showing one perspective, and letting the reader infer the other perspective. It would've been easy to write from Draco's POV and get all of his angsty heartbreak firsthand, but instead she writes it from Harry's POV and we get his anger and are left to come to our own conclusions about Draco's hurt. It makes the conclusions more powerful to the reader.

Grace: Trusting the reader is certainly one of her strengths. Part of my deep enjoyment of this fic is how it begs to be re-read. It's only on the re-read that certain details, "tells" in Draco's behaviour, for example, become clear indicators of what will happen. But you need to learn them from Harry's POV first. It makes for a very fun circular read, in that way. Another way that trust is established masterfully is the contrast between Harry's anger in the present and the vignettes of his empathetic, whole-hearted earnestness in the flashback scenes. The distance between the two Harry's emotional states is enough for the reader to draw their own conclusions of how much it must pain Draco to go through this experience.

Though I will say, the angsty heartbreak moment we do get to see firsthand gets me every time. It's the most delicious stab in the heart!

TDL: I know it’s a spoiler, but will you be specific? What part exactly are you thinking of?

Grace: “I lost my husband.”

TDL: I put that quote down in my notes too - and "I didn't even get to say goodbye."

Grace: It gets to the heart of the worst part of a beautiful relationship: the fear of loss.

TDL: So we've done our favorite angsty moments. This fic, while angsty, is also really full of fun and funny moments. Does anything stick out to you along those lines?

Grace: Two stick out to me immediately. One is a callback to the Pablo Neruda quote off the top, from which the fic takes its title. "Your hand on my chest is my hand,” only Harry adds his own sexy twist to it, lol. The second is this incredibly tense moment mid-fight where Harry snaps about how long it would take to fall back in love with Draco and Draco's deadpan response of "You said 'when'" which is peak Drarry to me. That stubbornness in the face of literally anything, even the other avowing their supposed hatred.

What's your favourite funny moment?

TDL: Oh it’s got to be when we find out later that Pansy laughed at the toothbrush incident. It's just such a best friend thing to do. It felt like something I'd do to my sister or that she'd do to me and I think it added a realness to their friendship. They’re ride or die for each other, but they also laugh at each other, even in the hard times. I also love any scene Jules is in!

Grace: Agreed! The toothbrush moment was hilarious. And Jules is one of my favourite of Harry's familiars/pets-with-speaking-roles, ever.

TDL: I'm obsessed with the idea of a chameleon speaking Parseltongue! I also feel like Jules' character had a lot of thought put into it - what would be important to a chameleon? What would a chameleon notice and think in this situation?

Grace: Yes, his take on death and his sense of humour about it – that bonds Harry to him. The lens of his understanding of the relationship between Harry and his "ice queen" and the purpose of molting. It was all so well done. The fact that Jules can infer Harry's emotional state and then decides on whether and to what degree to argue about what kind of feed he requests is so spot on. Amazing characterization work.

TDL: With all of Harry and Draco’s friends and family, this fic had an ensemble of characters. Were there any other favorites?

Grace: My two favourites live on opposite sides of the spectrum. Ron, for his stoic, constant style of quiet and level-headed support. And Blaise, a true wild-card, who is ruled enough by ego to do things that endanger his relationships with both Harry and Draco, just never too much. They love him for it, even though he can be a chaos monster.

TDL: Blaise was on my list too! I thought his shenanigans brought a lot to the fic and I thought it was cool to see him portrayed as an equally important friend to both Harry and Draco that Harry saw him as someone to turn to for help, not just “Draco’s friend” but “my friend.”

Grace: The melding of friend groups, as most often happens when you're in a long term relationship, was done masterfully here. and the lines drawn in the sand becoming murky in places and crystal clear in others when a break-up looms, too.

TDL: Which brings us back to that relatable fear of loss - this loss is not just one person but friendships, community, a life and a future.

Something else that I want to mention is how immersive this fic is, even in a re-read. I knew what was coming and was still hooked.

Grace: True! It begins with a focus on interiority. We get the emotional punches first, and then the plot to underpin it. But in my view, the plot comes second to the feelings. It's a fic that invites you as the reader to put yourself into Draco's shoes. We all experience loss and so when we get thrown into this situation of experiencing what, for both of them, they consider a world-ending loss, we relate. The troubles only begin there, because after that there's still waking up every day and trying, again and again.

TDL: For a fic whose title refuses love, what better description is there for love than waking up every day and trying, again and again.

Is there anything else you’d like to add before we end this rec?

Grace: Just to say thank you for entertaining this, and for your thoughtful questions! And to thank Writ for writing this masterpiece of a painful, quietly beautiful love story. And to end on a quote – one of the ones I come back to constantly, as a reminder to self of the usefulness in trying at the things we find the most difficult: 

"Aw, don't get smart to wash off all the vulnerability, you wore it so well," he replied, eyes sparkling. As he backed towards the doorway, his arms opened wide. "Bask in the beauty of a difficult, emotional conversation." 

xoxo minta / grace

❤️ As always, if you enjoy this rec, please bookmark abd leave the author a kudos or a comment! ❤️

Lots of Love and Happy Friday!

PS - If you're interested in knowing what Grace and I are reading next, @writandromance just started posting a new Pride and Prejudice based fic. It's not complete, but chapter one went up today and we are so excited!

[gutterfuuck]

Human!Mark with a Super-powered/Viltrumite!Reader

It’s cute he’s so possessive, as if we wouldn’t break him like a twig... 🙈

THISSSS this is incredible!! i am going crazy!!

i love this idea so much,, perhaps reader is an child of thragg. i am now putting my little headcanon in where i think that mark would have glasses and braces… real nerdy guy x girl that is only gentle with him… cute dynamic hehe!!

this is sfw since im writing a full fic currently, just some headcanons maybe to get the concept out there!! the fic will be called “the perfect girl”

cw: nothing really, as i have stated this is short, maybe a blurb? i am not sure haha,

the youngest viltrumite to be sent to conquer a planet. you’re sent to earth to take over another viltrumite’s mission that was supposedly cut short due to his untimely death. as soon as you burst onto the scene you’d had everyone’s attention; splattering kaijus like they were bugs, stopping criminals with your presence alone, saving those who were weaker, more susceptible to danger. you’re quick to rise as a favourite of the public, surpassing even the guardians in popularity.

mark meets you at a comic book signing at a con because of course he does. you’re there because you find humans interesting, that and you’d caught wind of a possible attack incoming at the event. you doubted they’d actually come along seeing as you’d made your presence known and you weren’t too kind with your beatdowns. you’d never admit it, but you found this type of media entertaining, the stories would interest you. even though you were a viltrumite, there wasn’t any law that said you couldn’t have a little bit of fun. (you also somewhat enjoyed the fame and the fanbases that had cultivated around you since you decided you didn’t need a superhero name, your name was good enough)

brown eyes stare at you through thick framed glasses, sparkling with interest and recognition, a goofy braced sideways smile forming on his face. you raised an eyebrow, arms crossed over your chest as you stared dead into his eyes. mark almost dropped the stacks of comic books he held in his arms, you were ethereal. he’d seen you on tv, you were all over the newsfeeds sometimes so you were hard to avoid. he thought you were beautiful before, thought you looked like an angel now. other people had gotten pictures with you earlier so he was sure there wouldn’t be a problem if he asked.

he got his picture but you had gotten his number, watched him walk away with pink cheeks, caught in a sort of daze. mark felt so comfortable to you, so… familiar..? maybe all humans weren’t so bad, mark was proof of that.

when you’d come over for dinner with his family one night, you’d finally worked out why. you’d never met nolan, but had heard stories about him growing up on viltrum. he’d been priming the planet for invasion but had been killed which put a cap on things until your arrival about two and a half years ago after you’d proved yourself worthy. you had the shock of your life when you sat at the table and squinted at your boyfriend’s father, heart dropping when you connected the dots. you and mark had been together for months now, you’d know if he was a viltrumite… had the great nolan faked his own death and fathered an offspring with no powers? you almost scoffed at the irony. what a tired and cowardly old man, the karma of having a child with no abilities must have been damning enough. you thought about you and mark’s potential future children and a warmth washed over you, the same warmth that made you feel all gooey and sickly sweet inside.

“tell me about your planet.” he’d say, resting his head on your shoulder as you watched the stars together, “ah, viltrum… haven’t you heard of it before?” you questioned, head tilted into his. you couldn’t wait to report back in a few years, couldn’t wait to tell everyone about how you’d found nolan and he hadn’t been killed… but mark would’ve been heartbroken. you couldn’t do that to him, not yet at least, it seemed cruel. plus, he had no idea what a viltrumite was, though your pride as a viltrumite felt attacked as you’d figured his father hadn’t even mentioned mark’s background to him.

you told tall tales about how you’d created the best civilisation, how your kind helped other planets and those less fortunate… you’d tell him the truth eventually, you’d have to seeing as you wanted to keep mark for as long as human lifespans allowed you to. he would open his mouth and his eyes would widen in awe, saying something about how you were like a character from his comic books which made you nod in turn, the conversation slowly changing to the subject of the comic book he’d been talking about. before you met mark, you would’ve probably never been able to experience life in such a human way. before it felt as if you had no sense of individuality, now it felt like you couldn’t stop being yourself even if it was a little alien to you.

[joequiinn]

The Dos and Dont’s of Fake Dating - inspo guide!

When I'm working on a story, I draw on all kinds of media as inspiration. I make lists of characters' fav movies or playlists that remind me of them, etc.

These are just some things I took inspo from/relate to Dos and Don'ts! I'm taking a brief pause in writing, so hopefully these will hold us over!

@sheneedsrocknroll92 and @steeldaisies because yall showed some interest!!

Playlist

I have a lil playlist full of songs that fit this fic's vibes in some way or another. There are various genres and tones and themes, so if you aren't afraid of bouncing around between types of music, this may be a fun way to vibe with the fic!

Music

Mystery by Dio - this is 100% THEIR song, I've associated this with Eddie and ice princess since day one; it will also make an appearance in an upcoming chapter~

Just Tonight by the Pretty Reckless - this song is one I associate with a particular chapter that is drafted but not out yet, and the vibes in general really mesh with some of the themes of this fic.

Ghost, HIM/Ville Valo, & Twilight Creeps - I just listen to these artists a lot while brainstorming and writing this fic; some particular songs are on the playlist mentioned above!

David Bowie & Fleetwood Mac - sooo ice princess isn't really a music person, because I think it's a funny contrast to Eddie; however, I do think she has a few Bowie and Fleetwood vinyls/cassettes lying around that belonged to her mom, so that's the extent of her music knowledge lol

Movies

Can't Buy Me Love - originally, I wanted to write a story inspired by this movie; the setup is ridiculous and I love every minute of it, so if you want to see an early prototype Eddie x ice princess, I suggest watching this one!

10 Things I Hate About You - this was also a movie that I considered using as plot inspo; although they're not the same, I do think similarities can be found in the characters to some extent, especially Patrick = Eddie.

Heathers - the vibes and fashion speak to be, and in another world maybe Eddie and reader would serve up some JD and Veronica vibes~

Halloween - it hasn't come up yet in the fic, but reader is a closet horror movie fan whose favorite is Halloween (no it's not her fav bc it's my fav what do you mean).

Bride of Chucky - Chucky and Tiffany speak to me on a spiritual level, and I feel like Eddie x reader give some of these vibes??? Also RIP Eddie Munson, you would've LOVED Child's Play.

Labyrinth - I picture ice princess having a lot of similarities with Sarah, which I didn't initially notice when I was first writing. There have been many lines I've written that I can SO clearly hear in Jennifer Connelly's voice, so she's a big inspo for this fic. Also, I love Bowie

TV

That 70s Show - putting aside all the real-world controversies, I was obsessed with Jackie & Hyde when I was a kid, and I think you can clearly see a similar character dynamic with Eddie and ice princess.

Married... With Children - have yall SEEN Kelly Bundy??? enough said.

Other

Evil Ernie - maybe you've seen my other Eddie posts, but I've mentioned before that the vibes of this comic series and it's titular character remind me of Eddie, so that's all.

Flight of Icarus - yes, yes, I know that this is literally a book about Eddie, but I still think it's worth noting that I've used the book as some reference, but for the most part I haven't included it too much (I also haven't read it sorry not sorry)

[marudny-robot]

MDZS plot bunny

Have been thinking about an AU in which Wei Wuxian is not resurrected by Mo Xuanyu, but he's reincarnated.

Jiang Yanli too.

And they both (as pair of blood siblings I thought) end up as junior disciples in the Jiang Sect.

Now - I'm still thinking about different versions (if they were orphans, brought by the sect? send by their family? or are they Sect leader Jiang kids - but would have he married or sleep with a woman at all?) and how old they both are compared to Jin Ling (age mates? mostly older or younger?), but I think it would be fun to imagine Sect Leader Jiang observing disciples and realizing that those both are awfully familiar in some way and starting step by step checking for reincarnation (or however that would go).

[kalofi]

zl fic idea

hii everyone i wrote something yesterday about an au idea i had for zolu and. i thought i'd share it here since its a bit too messy and disjointed in places to post on like. ao3 or something.

4.7k words, warning for temporary major character death but do not worry all will be fixed in due time. i'll put the rest under the cut

ok i have an idea for an au thats like kind of reincarnation but like reality displacement but like. okay just listen.

so we start at laughtale. its a couple years into the future from where we are in canon the strawhats are achieving their dreams luffy is about to find the one piece theres a big battle happening between them and the blackbeard pirates and whoever the fuck else is there idc. the rest of the strawhats are fighting the bb crew while luffy and zoro head off to find the one piece and also end up fighting black beard himself. luffy and zoro atp r like basically a thing but they never talk about it cuz theyre luffy and zoro and they kind of just exist with each other but like. theyre basically in love and everyone knows it. anyway they go off together luffy has the one piece almost in his grasp blackbeard attacks they fight its a big battle blood is shed bones are broken uumm in my mind luffy and zoro are like teaming up against bb bc his devil fruit is lowk broken and op and like ok theres gear5 too but i didnt rly consider that so lets just assume bb’s devil fruit can negate gear5 somehow or luffy exhausts it before bb is fully defeated. 

finally theyre able to knock bb down and hes out and theyre both tired and worn but they DID IT and the one piece is luffys and theyre facing each other grinning ear to ear and zoros saying “you ready, king of the pirates?” and luffy laughs and goes “not just yet zoro, i still gotta-“ and then theres a spear piercing right through his chest. and in the next moment its gone. 

theres a gaping hole through his captain and theres blood, theres so much blood and luffy’s still smiling like he hasnt realized it yet, like it hasnt even registered. zoros ears are ringing and he doesnt know what to make of whats hes seeing because its just not real, it CANT be. 

he looks over luffy’s shoulder and blackbeard is on the ground with his hand outstretched , black energy coiling back into his form and he’s laughing and laughing with bloodstained teeth. hes fucking laughing. one moment zoro is still standing parallel to luffy and the next hes in front of blackbeard and the mans head is rolling through the dirt and gravel, wado dripping crimson, a terrible gap toothed grin still stretching the man’s cheeks. 

zoro is breathing heavy, hes trembling and hes almost mesmerized by the blood pooling around a lacerated neck— then he’s remembering luffy and turning around and calling his name and he can see right through him theres a HOLE right through him and he chokes and stumbles and rushes to his side right as luffy starts to crumple to the floor . catches him and lowers him gently and doesnt know what to say. 

hes still shaking but cant move his mouth and everything is muffled, the sounds from the battle outside are distant and they dont matter but what does he do. what does he do. 

he snaps out of it when luffy gently calls his name. a strong “zoro,” like hes not fazed at all. like there isnt blood soaking into zoros clothes. 

his brain kickstarts and he’s speaking. saying things like “youre ok you’ll be ok” and “choppers right outside i’ll just call him and he’ll fix you right up” and “you always bounce back, right captain?” and hes thinking “dont die please dont fucking die. not now, not when we’re this close please dont fucking die” and hes silently praying to all the gods he doesnt believe in but luffy calls his name again and his mouth clicks shut. luffys saying it’ll be fine, that he had fun. that hes proud to have made it this far with all of them. and those sound a lot like parting words so zoro’s shaking his head no but luffy is still smiling. hes saying that hes glad he had zoro, that he made him happy. hes saying to tell everyone he’s glad they met, that hes glad they all had each other, that he knows theyll be just fine . 

zoro wants to say that luffy should tell that to them himself, when hes wrapped up and recovering and alive but his mouth is glued shut again and he feels that interrupting luffy now would be cursing him to death, like his words are the only thing keeping him tethered here, he just needs to get him to keep talking to stay awake. 

he tries to smile but it comes out ugly and wrong and he feels his lip wobble so he drops it. he settles on rubbing his thumb on luffys shoulder. something to keep him here. 

so he rubs and luffy talks little things until he cant anymore. until his eyes grow dull and his skin loses its warmth and still zoro rubs and he rubs.

—

thats how law finds them. zoro hunched over a body that should never be as still as it is. and its really no surprise hes there, hes been gunning for the one piece since the time he could captain a ship (or a submarine) but it all feels so wrong. 

zoro either doesnt notice him or doesnt care, but either way the man doesnt acknowledge law until he’s right behind him. its not like law can say anything to announce himself either, not after seeing the state of the body that zoros currently holding. the body that used to be luffy’s. hes still processing it all when the other man(the one whos alive) finally speaks. 

zoro asks if hes got a devil fruit. less of a question and more of a statement, but he should know anyway since theyve spent considerable time together and hes literally seen him use it. law cant unstick his jaw so he hums in affirmation. “and you can switch stuffs’ places?” another hum. “what about time.” 

that makes law pause. “what?” his voice comes out stronger than he feels. 

“what about time? can you switch things in time?” by this point law has awakened his devil fruit or some shit dont sweat the logistics but hes never tried anything of that sort so he kind of stumbles “im not- maybe? ive never attempted-“ zoro interrupts “send me back” 

“what?” 

“send me back so i can fix this. you can do that, right.” it clicks. law would pity zoro if he didnt know any better, instead he just feels mounting despair and resignation. 

he may not be crew, but he knew luffy too, he was allied with the man for fucks sake, and this just feels- wrong. he sighs, a tired, heavy thing. 

“what about your crew?” its useless. zoros as stubborn as his captain, with arguably a handful more screws loose. “it wont matter. they’ll never know because i’ll make sure this doesnt happen.” he still hasnt turned around. law doesnt know what expression hes making and hes sure he never wants to find out. 

hes ready to deny it, cut his losses and head for the one piece himself (hes not heartless, but if he stands here any longer and has to look at. well. he think he might never be able to move again) but then he really thinks about it. could he? would it even be possible? surely this isnt the way things were supposed to go, surely this isnt right. luffys never been one who was supposed to die just like that, like this, law knows that much. he thinks hes going to regret this, but he counts it as one last thank you for everything luffy did for him. 

youre gonna owe me big time strawhat-ya. if i even remember this, that is. 

he puffs a breath “i can try. i cant- promise anything but. i think we both know this,” he makes a vague, weak gesture, “isnt right.” 

zoro doesnt say anything, law didnt expect him to. he just bows his head slightly and law takes that as the acknowledgment it is. 

he brings his hand up, “dont do anything stupid, zoro-ya. or, at least, make it stupid enough to bring him back.” 

he positions his fingers in way so familiar, but the weight of it now is nearly unbearable.

room.

shambles

—

zoro’s world shatters, differently than before, and then theres nothing.

—

he wakes up in bed, bleary eyed and a pounding headache assaulting his senses. his alarm clock is going off which only adds to the drumbeat against his eyes. he grumbles and whacks around aimlessly to shut it off. the silence lasts a moment before his eyes fly open and he jolts up, sheets pooling around his waist. luffy. where was he? where was zoro? did the crew find him and take him back to the ship? did law fail? but this didnt look like chopper’s office.

he looks around to find hes in a room hes never seen before in his life, yet he instinctively knows is his. it all feels so wrong, like he doesnt belong in his own skin. he scratches lightly at his arm. he needs to go to work. 

work?

what the fuck is happening. 

its like his mind is at war with itself, one truth trying to dominate over the other. he trained at sensei’s dojo. he aged out of foster care. he was a swordsman, he was the first mate of the strawhat pirates. he didnt go to college, hes working construction. he made a promise, and kuina died. kuina…died. huh. his captain, his luffy, someone he knew so intimately and who knew him in turn. hes never met someone with that name his entire life. he needs to go to work, he needs to find his crew. 

he doesn’t understand what the fuck is happening. 

without his permission his legs stand him right up and he moves confusedly, surely, to the bathroom he didnt know he had. his reflection stares back at him in the mirror and its him, of course it is, he doesnt know why he expected someone else, but hes also…different. he has both function of his eyes, first of all. a scar in the same place as before but its light and healed over and doesnt seem to have blinded him like it once did. his hair is green, sure, but black roots peek out from underneath the familiar shade. hes grown stubble, he should shave. he needs to go to work. 

hes so confused, but his body moves like its been doing this its whole life. as far as zoro knows, it has. 

he continues getting ready, mind still at odds, and makes himself a cup of coffee (in his own kitchen. his own kitchen? the state of it leaves less to be desired. sanji would surely skin him alive) before tucking into his shoes, grabbing his wallet and keys and heading out the door. he seems to live in a single room apartment, and a crummy one at that. his legs move him faster, he has to go to work, he cant be late again (again?).

his car is parked outside the building, he has no fucking clue what it is but he unlocks it all the same and settles in. he feels like he shouldnt be operating this sort of machinery. franky would know better than him how it must work. he starts it up and backs out. trusting his gut to get him where he needs to be. he should be more concerned, he should be frantic and inconsolable, his captain was dead in his arms and now hes? what? going to lay some bricks or some shit? but he finds that part of him dulled in favor of following whatever mundanity this body is pushing him towards. 

uumm whatever whatever he arrives at work eventually i dont know how construction jobs work are there offices or something. idc thats not the point. johnny and yosaku are there and zoro is surprised to see them since, as far as he knows, the last time they were with each other was at arlong park which was years ago for him. but the two greet him like this is a daily occurence, like theyve been working together for years. and zoro thinks, knows, they must have. but this is good, this is great fucking news actually because until now theres been no confirmation if zoro was here alone (wherever “here” is) but now his proof is right in front of him because if johnny and yosaku are here, and they exist the same as from before, then that must mean everyone else is here too right? he clings onto this hope with both hands trembling. 

nami, usopp, the cook and chopper and robin and franky, brook, jinbe and fuck. fuck, luffy. theyve got to be here somewhere, zoro just has to find them. hes not sure if they remember things like he does but hes got to try because they are his as much as he has always been theirs and they should all exist together as it has always been. 

so then yeah he finishes his shift because its what hes ‘supposed’ to do but he doesnt go home. he drives around aimlessly before pulling into a random lot and pulling out his phone (theres no snail attached to it. weird.) he doesnt even know where to begin. hes not usually the one coming up with plans, he just goes where theres blood need to be shed. but no one seems to be in any danger here except for maybe himself, and its not like he has his swords anyway- shit. fuck did he still have wado? he must have right? he knows there was a kuina that existed here too, he knows because he remembers. and she, well she wasnt around anymore so he must have wado. he must. with shaking fingers he pushes that aside for now, though barely. he needs to find luffy, but he wouldnt even know where to start. luffy could probably find the rest of their crew by simply wandering around and happening upon them, thats how he did it before. but zoro has no idea where he’d be, he doesnt even know where he is. nami or robin would be a good bet to at least form a plan, but he wouldnt know how to find them either. 

is there even a coco village here? would robin still be part of baroque works? he needs someone who has a defined location that he could google or something (what the hell is google?). usopp would be at syrup village right? shit. is there even a drum island? these are all too broad, he needs something specific. specific…..a place with an identifiable name, somewhere smaller that would be easier to stake out…

a lightbulb goes off. 

fucking shit he thinks. of course. of fucking course it would come down to the cook. 

he types in “baratie” to his maps and a location pops up, just 27 minutes from where he is now. he hasnt eaten yet either, so he figures thats killing two birds with one stone. he taps the address, backs out of the lot and drives. 

(if it takes him nearly an hour to get there thats nobodys business but his own)

he pulls up to the building about a quarter after 7. it seems packed enough already, but if memory serves him right then that was just par for the course for baratie. he parks, gets out and locks his car, then shoves his hands in his pocket and resigns himself to another oncoming migraine hes sure to get upon interacting with the man hes certain is waiting somewhere inside. 

the tables are full, the host tells him, he slips a 20 from his wallet and suddenly (of course) theyre more than willing to serve him. 

he gets settled in a far and somewhat isolated booth and a waiter comes up to him, but he cuts the man off as hes introducing himself and says “you got a blonde working here? stupid ass side part with a weird eyebrow? goes by sanji” the waiter looks shocked and put off by his rudeness but quickly collects himself and says “we might. depends on whos asking” zoro snorts “just tell him hes got someone who wants to talk to him,” he cringes at this next part, tries to smile but knows it comes off as a sneer. hes not sure if he still has conquerors haki wherever he happens to be now, but he tries to channel that energy the same way he would if he were in battle and says “tell him im a fan.” the waiters eyes widen, in fear or surprise zoros not sure (most likely a mix of both) before he nods and scurries across the floor, weaving in between patrons and coworkers alike until he disappears behind the double doors to the kitchen. 

zoro sits with his arms crossed and skims through the menu out of boredom and impatience. its a couple minutes before he sees a familiar head of blonde hair emerge from across the way. a smile climbs onto his face despite himself. sure, the guy annoyed him to hell and back and their…friendship (if you could really call it that) was a tumultuous one, but it was good to see someone familiar nonetheless. he schools his expression before the blonde can spot him. a few moments pass before hes standing right in front of zoro, his stupid suit primped and pressed as always, and a cautious look on his face. 

“you asked for me?” his tone is the one he only reserves for men who he deems not worth his time. zoro grits his teeth but says “yeah, theres something ive gotta discuss with you.” 

hes never been one for tact, forever blunt unlike his swords. 

sanji quirks a brow “i dont plan on talking about anything with anyone unless theyre a paying customer” zoro feels his eyebrow twitch but grabs his menu nonetheless and points to a random item without looking “i’ll have this then, and whatever booze you got.” sanji leans in to see what hes pointing to before his one visible eye widens and a grin slowly overtakes his previously unaffected face. 

he speaks condescendingly. “wonderful choice sir, coming right up.” before zoro can get another word in he grabs the menu out of his hand, spins on his heel, and marches back to the kitchen. 

zoro clenches his fists and does his best not to grind his teeth into a fine dust. no matter where they are or what displacement in time the fucking curly brow never fails to be absolutely insufferable. at least this way though, zoro knows its him for real. 

its another 20 minutes before the shit cook reemerges from the back with a platter and a mug in his hand. he steps up to zoros table and places the plate and cup down in front of him with a smug look. zoro has no idea what the fuck hes looking at on his plate. he doesnt have time to question it before sanji plops down in the booth seat across from him, disregarding all previous faux-professionale and asking “so what do you want” zoro tears his eyes away from his plate and looks into sanji’s, trying to convey as much emotion, as much urgency as he possibly can. 

“luffy needs us. and we have to find him” whatever the cook was expecting him to say, it definitely wasnt that. the other man regards him more warily now, looking him up and down with a tense frown before replying “i dont know what the hell youre talking about. and i dont appreciate being mocked or having my time wasted” he goes to stand up but zoro grabs his wrist, yanking him back down unceremoniously. 

he blinks before rounding back on zoro, flaring his nostrils in a way zoro knows means hes about to get himself in deep shit “oi, what the fuck do you think youre-“ he doesnt let him finish “im not mocking you. this isnt some stupid prank or whatever youre thinking. and despite how much i would enjoy punching your teeth in right now im not looking for a fight either.” 

the cook still looks affronted but seems to actually be listening. zoro continues “look, i dont know what the fuck is going on. i was at laughtale with you and the others, with luffy, and then i woke up and now im here and i dont know how but this is all wrong. its all wrong but i need to find luffy and fuck, i cant do it alone. i need your help to find him. find everyone.” the blondes eye is wide, but he blinks and its gone. he looks more tired than zoro has ever seen him 

“im not paid enough for this shit. i dont know why i even-“ he looks like hes getting ready to leave again but zoro is desperate at this point so he blurts out whatever he thinks will convince the other man hes not bullshitting.

“we met you here, at the baratie. me and nami and usopp and luffy. luffy busted through one of your walls so your old man punished him by making him wash dishes. i dont, i dont know what luffy said to you, or how he convinced you to join us, but he changed your life like he did mine. we sailed together, and we had each others backs no matter how much we got on each others nerves. you were our cook. i was our swordsman. luffy was our captain and youd do anything to help him, i know you would, same as me. youre a pervert and an asshole and a damn annoyance, but youre strong. i could still kick your ass though” if the cook’s eyebrow could go any higher hes sure itd be clear off his forehead by now. 

“and you- your dream. you wanted to find the all blue.” he stalls there, engine sputtering. zoro doesnt know what else to say, so he snaps his mouth shut. 

the blonde is still gaping at him like a fish, but he mouths the phrase “all blue” like hes been searching for it his whole life, like he always knew but just never had the words. 

he blinks. 

then he blinks again, rapidly. there are tears pooling in his eyes. his mouth flaps for a moment before he seems to finally be able to push out words. 

“you- zoro?” he sounds small. he sounds hopeful. zoro grins. 

“yeah, yeah its me.” sanji stares at him a moment, then looks around, as if hes seeing everything with clear eyes for the very first time. zoro figures he might as well be. 

“holy shit. holy shit.” 

zoro laughs, a rough thing. theres a ball in his throat that he cant seem to dislodge. “nice to have you back, curly brow” sanji’s gaze snaps back to him before he scowls and tries wiping away the tears that are now streaking down his cheeks. its useless though, it seems they cant stop. zoro laughs again at the sorry state of the asshole in front of him, this time more full and genuine. he feels so relieved he doesnt know what to do with himself. 

“yeah yeah, whatever dick head.” sanji grumbles. zoro quiets down, glances away, lets him have his moment. “fuck, mosshead, im still on the clock and you unload all this on me? how the hell am i supposed to finish the rest of my shift?” his words are sharp but he doesnt sound angry at all. in fact, when zoro turns back to look, hes smiling. 

“you remember now though, dont you?” he has to be sure. 

“what does it look like, dumbass? think im tearin’ up cuz of pollen or some shit?” the cook rolls his eye. theyre both silent for a moment, trapped in their own heads, before he speaks up again. “so, what now?” zoro doesnt even have to think before he answers “we find everyone else, obviously.” “well no shit, but how?” zoro glances to the side. “i was hoping youd figure that out” sanji stares before bursting out laughing. zoro scowls and hunches into his shoulders. 

“of course!” sanji cackles “of course your dumbass wouldnt know what to do! you probably just typed in the most recognizable place you could remember and hoped one of us would be there!” zoro doesn’t answer, because yes thats what he fucking did, but it worked didnt it? he doesnt see whats so funny. 

“fuck you.” 

he wants nothing more than to bash that smarmy mouth in, but the familiar egging settles something in his soul. sanji gasps a few breaths before calming down, now wiping tears from his eyes for a completely different reason. 

“alright alright, well lets figure this out then, yeah? we figure out how we got here then we can figure out how to get back right? simple enough” 

zoro nods, “law was-“ he stops. remembers dull eyes and clammy skin and wrong wrong wrong. he shakes his head, “no, no we cant” sanji looks at him confused. 

“we cant go back,” zoro presses, “not until i fix things. i promised i would” the other man seems to pick up on his panic and his mood dampens, becomes more serious. “promised what?” 

zoros never been one to sugarcoat, but now he wishes he could find a way to soften the blow hes about to deal. he inhales, pushes the breath out. says, “luffy died, sanji.” the fact the hes actually using the other mans name seems to fly right over his head in favor of the first part. “what?” zoro huffs, is he really gonna make him say it again? “luffy di-“ sanji interrupts, angry now, fists clenched and whitened from the pressure “i heard what you said. but what do you mean.” 

he doesnt want to have to tell sanji what happened, doesnt want to talk about it at all, wants to slice it up into small enough pieces that it very well may have never existed.

he told law the others wouldn't have to know, that he would make sure of it, but he's realizing now just how unrealistic that is. as much faith as zoro places in his own abilities, he's aware he's only one man.

and, he figures, if there's anyone i can trust enough to share a burden heavy as this with, might as well be the one who's strength i'd count on just as much as my own.

sanji cant help if he doesnt know what went down once they got separated at laughtale, so zoro sets his shoulders, clenches his fists, prepares himself like hes riding into a battle he knows he has no chance of winning—hes the first mate for fucks sake—and resigns himself to filling the other man in on every horrible detail

by the end, the cook looks much the same as zoro feels, pale-faced and shaky. he runs a trembling hand through his hair and clenches his eye shut. “fuck mosshead, thats…” he doesnt bother finishing, and zoro stays silent—already knowing just how much of a shitty situation it is that theyve found themselves in.

—

(btw the reason sanji was so smug about what zoro randomly chose on the menu is bc its one of their most expensive dishes. even upon regaining his memories he still makes zoro pay it cuz hes an asshole like that. business is business 😁)

uuummm i dont feel like detailing the rest basically my idea is that they work together to try and track down all the members as well as law, since hes also a part of this. i dont know how or when or in what order but i do know finding luffy would come last. so yes its zolu but for a majority of it more in spirit than anything. maybe i can throw in some luffy pov of him living with ace and sabo . he knows something is off but cant place his finger on what. he knows something is missing but hes got his brothers with him so what else could he possibly need? etc etc. you get the idea

[sluckythewizard]

BUT IM NOT A WRITER. something strange possessed me to write my first proper fanfic in maybe a decade. be niceys to me but also grill me so i can get stronger. this one is a stupidly self indulgent bit between Soda and Emizel, a day or so after emizel was sired. CW for gore descriptions, but thats about it i think. image below is a snippet of the start. the rest of the whole dang thing will be under the cut. ive never posted fanfic ever in my life. read my tags for secret behind da scenes commentary

"Oh shit… I think hes dead…" It was another night, another patrol, another fight, and another win, for Emizel and Soda.

Under moonlight, under street light, under interwoven wires above, the two stood here in a quiet and damp alleyway. The air was drenched with the smell of a previous rain, and the puddles of said storm remain huddled in corners and pot holes.

One splashed as soda found himself stepping forwards into one. The residual adrenaline of the fight had left his body shaking, his heart still pounding, his wounds still throbbing. They had still won; or more-so, Emizel had won. A particularly nasty blow to the side had Soda reduced to the side lines for most of the fight, left to watch as his newly vampiric comrade had absolutely eviscerated the competition.

Emizel had only been turned a day ago, but it was impossible not to notice how it had changed him. He already acted so goddamn confident, so on top of the world, and this newfound power, newfound speed and strength, only built upon his insane ego.

The Fangs that they encountered here on this night stood no fucking chance. Emizel was too quick, too strong, and he easily chased off the rivals. It was only now, as the final unfortunate opponent had turned to flee, a clean clock in the jaw sent the human tumbling to the ground with a dull thump, and it did not move afterward.

Soda shifts his shoe out of the puddle, the cold seeping into his sock being one of the few things keeping his mind in his body in the moment. Is the guy breathing?

A low laugh bleeds from Emizel as he stretches his arms, licking his sharpened teeth as he stares off in the direction the remaining Fangs went. Soda knew that look on his face, the look of a tiger pondering on its next kill, he knew well that Emizel wanted to chase them.

But the guy on the ground.. It was one punch to the face, and the wicked crack sound that came from it had planted a seeding dread within Sodas chest.

As he steps forward, around the puddle, the resulting sound made Emizels attention click back over to Soda, the snap of his gaze making Soda flinch.

The two lock eyes, and Soda weakly gestures to the limp body on the floor. "The uh.. I think.. Is that guy dead?" He finally asks, having a hard time keeping contact with Emizels intensely red eyes.

Emizel turns his attention to said body, tilting his head as he goes to kick at the thing, turning it over. "Man no way hes dead, I punched him once." He mutters.

"Well, yeah, but his head almost twisted all the way around when you did.." Soda steps up to stand beside Emizel, the two boys standing with their hands in their pockets, down at this unfortunate, limp body.

"Should we hide it?" Soda asks, glancing back over at Emizel, who had.. An odd look on his face. He was clearly pondering something, but Soda could only guess whatever was going on in that brilliant head of his. He knew and trusted that Emizel was smart. If anyone could figure out what to do about this, it would be him.

But the lack of an answer had anxiety chewing at the back of Sodas rib cage, and after a second, he speaks up again, compelled to fill what he perceived as a tense silence. "Like.. I dunno, I've never uh... killed a guy..." He shrugs, prompting Emizel to let out a big sigh.

"He's not dead man, just out fuckin cold." Emizel kneels down next to the body, putting an ear up to its chest, and pondering on that for a moment. An uncertainty twists his expression, as he decides to instead place a hand on the victims throat, checking for a pulse. A moment passes, and seemingly finding nothing, he pulls back.

"Uh... Okay, so he might be dead."

Something about the confirmation from Emizel made a shiver run up Sodas spine. That, or maybe it was just the breeze agitating the cold water in his shoe.

"Huh… Damn.." Was all that Soda could really get to leave his mouth. Which was hardly a splash compared to the torrent that was slowly churning in his head. They just killed a guy. Or, Emizel just killed a guy. And it was so easy. They had to hide the body now, right? That was the usual progression here? Getting caught for murder was way more extreme than getting caught for breaking mailboxes with soda cans. It was so, so disturbingly easy. It really was just one punch. It's not like the Fangs are weak by any means, so just one punch? And this guy is dead? Forever?

Or, perhaps by human means, their rivals were fairly tough. But Emizel was on a whole other level. No mortal could stand up to him now...

"Hey, are you okay?"

The question had pulled Soda back from his head, his gaze flicking back over to Emizel, who was looking up at him with those eerie, piercing red eyes. Soda felt another shiver.

"Uh, ieah man, I'm all good." Soda nods, swallowing down whatever anxiety was bubbling up in his throat.

But Emizel didn't seem satisfied by his answer, standing back up and staring down his human comrade. Soda couldn't meet his eyes, his gaze instead traveling downward, and pausing on Emizels red, cut-up shirt. There was something off about the color, the way it seemed darker in some spots, brighter in others.. Wait, wasn't Emizel wearing a white shirt before all this?

The vampire boy seems to pick up on Sodas expression, following his eyes down to his shirt. "Oh, yeah! While you were on the floor, the knife guy got me a little" He says, a stupidly simple smile on his face. Soda was about to let out a laugh at how unbothered his friend seemed by it, but it gets caught in his throat when Emizel goes to pull his shirt up.

The sound of the bloodied fabric peeling away from skin made Sodas own skin crawl, but that wasn't nearly as bad as the sight of the intense gash running from his collar bone, down to his stomach.

"Oh, fuck dude!" Soda gasps, but Emizel laughs it off. Even despite knowing Emizel well, Soda was still surprised by just how much Emizel could shrug off. "Shit, doesn't that hurt, dude?"

"Oh yeah this fucking hurts!" he says with a laugh, his smile big and toothy and proud as he presents this egregious wound. Swollen and angry, pulsing with a slow heartbeat, and still oozing with thick, dark blood.

The sight of the split flesh, and the glints of bone beneath the dark, dark red all tugged at Sodas gag reflex, and yet he couldn't pull his eyes away. So Emizel's just been walking and talking so normally this whole time with his chest just cleaved wide open? Soda felt just as impressed as he felt horrified.

It wasn't until Emizel reaches down to poke at the abhorrent wound that Soda snaps out of it. Watching his friend press his fingers into the bloodied flesh, and slowly pulling it apart, allowing more ichor to seep from the gash, it was too much to watch at this point.

Soda reaches up to put a hand on Emizels wrist, the vampire boy stopping, and looking up at his friend.

Soda found himself freezing again when he locks eyes with Emizel. He was going to say something now, right? "U-uhm.." Is all he really chokes out, giving Emizels wrist a gentle tug. "D-do you. Uh. I suppose a hospital Isn't a place you can go anymore..?"

Emizel just smirks at that, letting Soda pull his hand away from the wound. "Oh, yeah no, but it's fine. I mean, I don't think it's gonna kill me" He shrugs. It was so, so impressive just how unphased Emizel was by all this. Fuck he's actually so cool.

"Well yeah man but it's like, still a bleeding hole. Like you're soaked in blood dude, I'm pretty sure that even a vampire needs that stuff on like, the inside." Soda rubs the back of his head, still unnerved by the sight of it all. "Vampires have like, super healing, don't they?"

"Oh yeah like, regeneration powers. I know I heal faster sometimes but I dunno how to just, activate it on command.." Emizel hums, his eyes narrowing down at his own injury, as if trying to will it into mending. Soda looks away, unable to watch that vile gash ooze any longer.

"I dunno man, how do they do it in like, video games?" Soda tosses the question out, trying to click together some sort of solution in his own head.

"Uhhh.. Huh, video games.." Emizel repeats to himself, chewing on the thought while idly poking at the laceration; until an idea audibly flickers to life in his head. "Oh, I just gotta refill my blood meter. Or whatever."

"Oooh yeah, blood meter!" Soda perks up, "Of course, see this is why you're the brains, man" Soda smiles, glancing back over to his cool friend, but immediately needing to look away again when the sight of that egregious gash tugs bile back into his throat.

While Soda averts his eyes, Emizels eyes wander back over to the body, and that classic 'Emizel has a bad idea' smile creeps across his face.

"Well, if this guys dead, I'm sure he's not gonna need all that blood.." He grins, kneeling down next to the body again.

The word 'wait' had hardly gotten the chance to crawl from Sodas mouth, before Emizel lifts up the arm of the unfortunate body, pulling the sleeve back, and immediately sinking his teeth into the exposed wrist.

The sound and the sight of blood gushing around Emizels teeth made Soda cringe, his hand impulsively coming up to aide his own wrist. An empathetic phantom pain made his wrist ache, his imagination simulating the feeling of shark teeth cutting into skin, sinking deep into the flesh, and clacking against bone. That was a lot of blood, that was streaming down the arm of this fodder.

A low growl bleeds from Emizel as he adjusts his teeth, cutting into more flesh, opening the wound further, and allowing a pulsing torrent of red to stream down his chin, onto his coat. It was an annoying thing, to clean blood out of clothing. Most of the Demons deemed it easier to just let the stains remain. But the night that Emizels throat was torn open, and liters upon liters were granted freedom from his human form, the unbelievable mess had practically changed half the color of Emizels iconic coat.

That was the first time Soda had ever seen that much blood from one person. And well. This would probably be the second.

The sight was unnerving, but it was impossible to look away. The alley was quiet, save for the distant bustle of a distant city, which made the noisy squish and squelch of teeth gnawing on flesh all the more apparent and nauseating.

Emizel had become a monster for sure, and watching it feed on something was… thrilling, in a way. It reminded Soda of feeding a pet spider, or lizard. A mouse for a snake.

It's a heavy thing to witness, the end of a human life. The fear of death is a primal thing, and Soda was no different from any other living thing. He figured everyone else feared death just as much as he does. Well, maybe except for Emizel, of course.

It made sense. Emizel was such a cocky and noisy kind of guy, but hes always had the power to back it up. Even when he lost, or seemed at his lowest, Soda still saw this sort of fire in him, one that Soda admired.

Of course Emizel would be the one to become something like a vampire. Something that Soda had always figured was just a fantasy creature thing. He wondered; if vampires were real, what else was real? Werewolves? Zombies? Unicorns? Are there real demons? Like from hell? Is hell real? Is he going to hell?

The sudden ttteeeeaaaaarrrr of flesh rips soda from his wandering thoughts. Emizel was tugging his head away from the arm of his kill, his teeth clamped down into the chewed meat, and pulling it apart. Soda had seldom seen so much of the inside of a human arm, and the sight of spilling threads and squirming veins was hardly something he ever wanted to stomach again.

"Oh fuck, dude, hey-" Soda steps forward, raising a hand, but the way Emizel snaps his head back over to him, twisting to an unnatural degree, Soda cant help jolting back.

Reddened teeth glint menacingly in the low light, a threatening growl thundering from its clenched, dripping jaws. Emizels eyes were focused, yet wild, glowing with whatever light they could reflect.

Sodas eyes were wide, and his body was frozen in the thick, electric tension within the air. It was like staring down an angry dog.. Suddenly a light bulb in his head flickers to life. It was kind of like an angry dog, right? One hunched over a meal it didn't want to give up. Memories of old encounters and unfortunate dog bites resurface in Sodas head, and with that experience, and with those lessons learned, he gathers the courage to react.

He shuts his eyes, keeping them closed for a few seconds, as he slowly pulls back his arm, and slowly steps back. It was an eye contact thing, wasn't it? Eye contact makes dogs angry, right? That was how you dealt with an angry dog? As he pulls back, and takes in a breath for composure, he finally dares to peek at the angry vampire before him again.

Its snarling had died down, but its eyes were still trained intently on Soda. After a tense, and agonizingly, slow pause... It blinks back, lowering its head back down to its meal, but keeping its anxious stare on this potential threat.

A relieved sigh falls from soda as the tension finally melts. He didnt realize he was holding in so much of his breath. "O-okay, man.. It's yours, you uh.. Earned it.." Soda mutters, stepping back further, until he was standing in a sufficiently dry enough space to sit down in. Now that he wasn't standing, he was finally taking into mind just how much his hands were shaking.

It's odd. Soda couldn't really describe this feeling thrumming in his chest as something like fear.. Nausea? For sure. Disturbed and rattled? Oh absolutely. This was certainly a sight he would have a hard time scrubbing from his eyelids when he sleeps tonight. But he wasn't scared. The memory of the night that Emizel was sired still coated the inside of his mind like an unwashable film. Even in that moment, when the unnatural teeth from the unnatural maw of an unnatural thing hovered over his throat, he couldn't say with confidence that he was scared.

Emizel really is his best friend in the world. And he knows with his whole heart that Emizel feels the same. He knew and trusted that his best friend would never hurt him. Not too badly at least. He loves Emizel, and would give anything to support him.

Like a mouse to a snake.

This really is an incredible power that his comrade had come across, and Soda especially felt a sort of pride in his friend. He felt it was worth it to help him feed it.

The bile in his throat had made its point, and Soda agreed, that watching someone die, and get torn apart and drained might be too much for him. Despite how much he hated the Fangs, the end of any human life seemed like such a jarring thing. To have such an intense fear finally get confronted. Would he go to hell?

Maybe he couldn't just feed people to his friend. So an alternative could be donated blood, right? Soda wouldn't mind giving up something like blood. His body makes it for free, after all. Maybe some other Demons would agree to give up some blood too. But they shouldn't have to take on such a burden. Soda wouldn't mind being the only one. The only one. The only one.

His hand comes up to rub at his neck, as his imagination conjures up what it might feel like to have teeth sink into his flesh. He's been stabbed before, is that sort of what it would feel like? Would he have to get stitches? He didn't really want to get stitches, so maybe there could be a more effective way to get the blood out of him. And there was so much vital stuff in his neck too. There's' a vein that's safe to cut into somewhere, right? He would have to look that up later.

A STARTLING RINGING;

Splits the moment,

Prompting both Soda and Emizel to jolt in shock,

As the phone in Emizels pocket rings away.

Acting as if nothing abnormal had taken place, Emizel pulls out his phone, and answers it.

"Heyy, Johnny! Yeah we chased em off, I don't think those bastards will be infesting this street again anytime soon. Yeah, ieah we'll be heading back soon. Oh fuck yeah dude, save us some!"

Emizel covers the speaker of his Nokia, turning back to Soda with a big smile on his violently bloodied face. "They got some pizza waiting for us back home, dude!" he whispers out to him.

Soda does his best to crack a smile, and to suppress the look of unease that probably stained his face, as he stares at the literal murder scene that's been splattered about in front of him.

"Oh, yeah, hell yeah man.." He swallows down the bile again. "What kind of uh.. Soda did they get?"

Emizel ponders that, before turning back to the phone to ask Sodas question.

"Sprite and a big pack of that one strawberry mountain dew" Emizel tosses the answer back over to Soda, who gives a nod, and thumbs up.

Mountain dew is so neat, Soda really liked all the wacky flavors those guys come up with. The thought of going home and opening a can of soda was certainly a comfort. After witnessing all this blood and gore and viscera, Soda absolutely needed to get back home and get a nice cold glass of something bright red .

As Sodas mind wanders off to soda, Emizel wraps up the conversation on the phone, before hanging up, and standing up.

The movement had pulled Sodas mind back into the moment, enough for him to timidly voice a concern he's had since the start of this debacle.

"Uh, hey, so.. The body, should we… Uh.." He gestures vaguely to it, and Emizel grants it a nonchalant glance.

"Eh, I can toss it into a dumpster or something, I dunno. I'm sure its fine. I'll handle it."

The vampire boy goes to pick up the corpse, the wound in its mangled arm no longer even dripping with blood, the flesh pale from the absolute absence of red in its veins.

"Go ahead and meet me by that one mailbox, the one with the bullet hole in it." Emizel casually instructs, tossing the drained body over his shoulder. "I'll catch up."

"Uh, yeah, okay.." Soda musters up a nod, and the strength to rise back up to his feet, wincing as that bruise on his side makes itself loudly known again. He still felt anxious, but even despite it all, he knew he could trust Emizel to take care of things. He always does. "Just stay safe man, I'll see you there." Soda assures with a smile, and Emizel matches it, tossing him a wink. And then suddenly- -He's gone! If Soda had blinked he would've missed it, but he was fortunate enough to just barely catch the glimpse of Emizel darting off at an inhuman speed, probably looking for a place to dump the body. Right, he would take care of it. Emizel always makes sure his crew is taken care of. Well... Guess all that's left for Soda is for him to walk back to that meeting spot. He looks around the alley for a moment, taking in the sight of that enormous pool of blood in the middle of the concrete. Or whatever the floor of this alley is made from. He ponders on the present moment a little longer than he meant to, the shock of it all leaving him aimless for just a few, soothing moments of just, decompression. The night is quiet, vast, and cold, but the stresses of just the past 5 hours had left his body radiating with fiery aches and pains, so the chill of the occasional clawing breeze was welcomed. Except for when said breeze agitated the cold water still soaked into his sock. He should step in another puddle on his way back to even it out. The smell of rain still rested heavy in the air, heralding another storm on the horizon. There was that, and then, well, there was also the blood. The stench of it felt far too intense to just ignore it, the metallic miasma making itself maliciously unmistakable. Maybe the impending storm will wash this mess away... He looked forward to putting this unfortunate night behind him. With one last rattled, but deep breath, he stuffs his hands in his pockets, and turns away, strolling back over to the mailbox that Emizel had described.

He couldn't wait to get home and drink some soda with his friends.