#I made this summary because it is too big of a project to tackle with prose sowwy

[troutsoup]

my bloodweave escort au

Alternate universe—no illithids, takes place during the same time period as the game's start.

Newly-escaped vampire spawn Astarion flees to Waterdeep; he's always liked cities, and this one is huge, with more than enough space to go into hiding build a new life for himself. Well-practiced in the skill of seduction and hindered by his inability to go out during the day, he starts work as an escort, complete with a cheesy fake name and a regular clientele. Sure, he'd be more successful with a procurer/manager, but he's trying this new thing called governing himself. Besides, he makes plenty enough to get by.

Gale is surrounded by tressyms, crying into a pint of ice cream getting by just fine, thank you very much. He may not get out much, or talk with anyone besides Tara, and he may spend hours each day reminiscing about his past relationship, but he's surviving. Loneliness is easy enough to overcome, with time. And money.

Can you see where this is going?

Maybe it's Tara that encourages it, please, Mr. Dekarios, we both know you could use the companionship, or maybe she wordlessly leaves the flyer she'd ripped from the city's advertising board on his desk for him to find and be terribly offended by—until that night when he's haunted by dreams of Mystra, and, okay, maybe he should do something about this.

Astarion's nights are booked to the hells and back, but after his regular cancels and a new potential client makes himself known with a magically-sent message (dripping with almost-pathetic desperation), his curiosity is piqued—and he's not going to miss out on some coin.

They meet at an inn.

Gale's hands are shaking when they meet. They're shaking when the elf—who is gorgeous and seems to know it—takes them in his own dainty, pale ones and leads him over to sit on the bed, asks him questions about all manners of things and smiles politely, says his own name to him like it's a secret—Gale of Waterdeep—and Gale's not sure if he's being teased or flirted with but it doesn't much matter when they're kissing, suddenly, or when the elf climbs atop him to grind their hips together, or least of all when he gets Gale's robes undone and brings him off with a practiced hand.

"What can I do for you?" Gale asks, gesturing to him, and he shakes his head, kisses Gale's nose and says, "Aren't you tired, darling, shall we sleep?" And he does, holding the elf while he trances.

He starts to get the sense that despite the circumstances of their meeting, the elf might actually like him.

Astarion realizes quickly that this guy's a fucking moron; the kind of lovesick dweeb he'll be able to drain for some serious cash. He collects the night's due from Gale on his way out, giving himself just enough time to get home before the sun rises.

They keep meeting.

One night: Astarion on his knees with Gale against the wall, whimpering into his elbow because (and Astarion's sure of this) he's never had such good head before.

The next: on the bed, Astarion teaching Gale how to fuck him (he's much too gentle—it's not like Astarion's made of glass, and he says so, and Gale whispers in his ear that he just doesn't want to hurt him).

And then, because Gale keeps begging him to, Astarion lets Gale suck his dick, and he doesn't know what the hell he's doing but Astarion talks him through it and Gale's so damn thrilled about it that it ends up being fun for both of them.

Gale is fucking delighted a very normal amount of excited about their meetings. It's nice to have something to look forward to, but mostly just to feel wanted, even if he has to pay for it. The elf reveals himself to be incredibly quick-witted, and oh is he fun to converse with—they spend the first few hours of their nights together just chatting, and as loathe as the elf is to reveal anything about himself, it's still great to be listened to.

In spite of himself, Astarion starts looking forward to their meetings, too. Gale's sweet to him, and the sex is good, and he doesn't ask Astarion to do any of the weird fetish shit he's accustomed to with some of his clients. At some point, they switch from the inn to house calls, and he can't deny liking Gale's cute little living space, the balcony where Gale reads poetry to him while their legs are slung across each other's on the bench, and most of all his darling tressym, Tara—that is until Astarion arises before Gale does one day and sees Tara staring at him through the mirror where his reflection should be.

Astarion whips around, ready to—well, he's not sure exactly. Pull the dagger he keeps in his boot? Stab her? That's a bit extreme, even for him.

Tara flicks her tail at him. "You can't honestly think we hadn't discovered. Your eyes are red as bloodstones."

"He never said anything—"

"He thinks you're insecure about it. The same way you're insecure about that scarring on your back." And then, calm as anything, she starts a walk to the kitchen. "Come, have some tea. The sun won't rise for hours."

So. The fact that Gale knows about his vampirism settles like a heavy weight on Astarion's chest: the knowledge that Gale sees him as he is and cares about him despite, and the guilt that comes with it.

It only gets worse when Gale comes down with a rough case of I-Can-Save-Him Syndrome, also known as Pretty Woman Disorder—and what used to be questions about how Astarion got into the business start to become questions about what he'd like to be doing, otherwise, and encouragements to pursue other lines of work.

The worst part is that Gale's right in his assumptions—Astarion is sick to death of using his body to trap people. But he doesn't know how to do anything else. He doesn't remember how to do anything else.

Astarion snaps at him one night—"You just want me all to yourself, how pathetic you are to think I'd actually like you for something besides your wallet—" and from the way Gale looks at him, he can tell his little outburst does not have the intended effect; Gale doesn't hate Astarion for it, he hates himself.

Whatever. Not his problem to solve.

He cancels all of his appointments indefinitely and spends a week to himself, draining rats and such. Back to his roots. It feels awful. Is there nothing in this life that will fulfill him?

At least he was making coin before.

Gale messages him again. Something something he's sorry, Astarion was right, please come over. He'll pay for his time.

It's the only reason Astarion acquiesces.

It's startlingly easy to fall back into old patterns as soon as Gale opens his door; Astarion is on him at once; kissing his neck, grabbing a fistful of his robes to pull him closer, ignoring Gale's stop, stop, until he gets a hand on Astarion to shove him away.

Astarion's heart pounds hotly in his chest. What the hells?

But Gale's staring hard at him. "I won't bed you tonight."

"Fine, darling, I could bed you."

"No—" Gale runs a hand back through his hair, frustrated, looking for once like he's got nothing to say.

Astarion has a similar problem. He settles on "You really don't want to bed me?"

"Not tonight," Gale says, surging forward to take Astarion's hands in his own. "I like you," he says, "and I think you like me, too."

"You don't know me."

"I'd like to," Gale continues, unfazed. "Let me."

Maybe it's the wide-eyed, unapologetic vulnerability in Gale's eyes that makes him say yes.

Maybe it's that it's time to try something new.

Maybe he figures it's time to make a decision for himself.

"There's a lot we don't know about each other, huh?"

Gale's smile is shy when he traces the lines of his chest tattoo up his own neck. "We've got the whole night ahead of us."

They sit on the balcony where they can hear the waves.

Astarion tells him everything, starting with his name.

[slut4sugu]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐋 𝐆𝐎𝐓𝐇 — RODIRICK HEFFLEY X FEM!BLACK READER

✰ including: intimidating but sweet reader, simp ass rodrick, mutual pining, rodrick suddenly not being as much as a usual ass to Greg (because you’re around lol) shy reader, golden retriever Rodrick fr, ✰ Summary: What it’s like crushing/ being crushed on by rodrick heffley ✰ authors note: Bro I js started thinking about how big of a crush I had on rodrick heffley sooo ima do sum random hcs for him <3

def stares at you for a good 3 minutes the first time he saw you. Your whole dark streetwear/cyberpunk/y2k aesthetic was really doing it for him

though trust and believe he was gonna act like he didn’t know his left from his right when he was talking to you, your sweet smile didn’t help much either since it made his heart race like 80mph

once he notices how friendly and sweet you are he loosens up a bit

Introduces you to what music he listens to, and almost falls for you when he sees how much you like it.

Def would be into: girls with doe eyes/ droopy eyes, girls who smell like candy, girls who wear silver rings, sleepy heads, short girls, ‘mommy’ type girls, girls who wear band tees/ graphic tees/baggy clothes

When you first came over to his house to work on a project together his parents and brother were surprised to see he brought such a pretty girl home, though at first they all thought you were apart of his band.

Rodrick saw the hearts starting to form in Greg’s eyes when he saw your smile but he shut his brother down real quick. Flipping him off when your back was turned

He hardly got any work done because all he could focus on was your pretty voice and your probably soft hands, you noticed his gaze on you but didn’t say anything as you smiled to yourself before asking if he understood anything/ if he needed help.

You let out a fit of giggles before saying, “Rodrick you don’t have to act or anything around me yknow, just be yourself.”

You thought it was almost cute how hard he tried to be cool when you asked about things he liked/ did in his spare time/etc.

One time Rodrick had left you in his room to go deal with greg ‘messing with his stuff.’ leaving his phone behind, which had lit up with a text from one of his band members “still talking to that angel you were blabbering about earlier?’ (You never mentioned this to him and pretended you didn’t see the text, though it was hard to not smile so wide and tackle Rodrick into a bear hug when he came back.)

Definitely makes notes of things you like, don’t like, what makes you annoyed, things like that.

Always tries to be the first person to compliment you hair & like your story on insta

The way rodrick’s personally switches up when he sees you is almost cartoonish, he’ll be cursing his brother out one minute before following you around like a lost puppy and asking if you need anything the next.

Damn near blushes every time you initiate any type of physical contact with him and you think it’s the cutest thing, sometimes you tease him by getting close or resting your head on his shoulder when you feel even the little bit tired. (Though you know good n well that your heart is racing too.)

Accidentally tells you that he likes you from a butt dial ( rodrick froze when he heard your sweet voice say that you felt the same.)

Back to masterlist

[kandismon]

Do you have any tips for those who wish to create a webcomic?

I do apologize if this has been asked before!

this is a pretty big question that would probably be easier to answer if you had any specific things you'd like to know about!

but i can give you a summary of general things i've learned over the years!

disclaimer: these are my personal experiences, if any of this sounds like something that doesn't fit your workflow or preferences, please disregard!

if you've never made a webcomic before, i would personally recommend starting small. do a short oneshot first to see how it feels instead of diving right into your multi-season 2000 pages big epic story, because i feel like the workload can get really overwhelming really fast if you go from 0 to 100 right away. some creators thrive on that but it was definitely not for me. i have a lot of failed and unfinished projects sitting around because i was too ambitious and didn't know what i was getting myself into. later on i started drawing short comics for various fandoms & ships i was invested in deeply, and those got progressively longer until i suddenly felt ready to seriously tackle one of my original stories again. which was when i finally started working on #MUTED!

don't worry about sticking to the strict 60+ panels weekly schedule that you see a lot on platforms like webtoon for example. unless you've signed a contract, you make the rules and decide how much and how often you post. i've seen a lot of creators burn themselves out over that when there really wasn't any need because no one was forcing or paying them to churn out so much all the time T -T) you can still find an audience and success with a slower pace (for example #MUTED was released with 2 episodes a month, 1 ep usually had around 20ish panels iirc)

finished is better than perfect. if you're a perfectionist this can be difficult to accept, but i promise most people won't look at your panels for longer than 1.5 seconds. some wonky lines here and there don't matter much, it's more important to get the feelings across imho.

vector layers (for inking) are your best friend \o/

imho having a pretty clear outline for your story can be really helpful and take away some stress, knowing where the story is going without having to constantly sit down inbetween chapters to come up with more plot is a blessing and i wish i had been better about doing that with #MUTED. i did have a rough outline but a lot of holes in between chapters and in the end some things i would have liked to explore more never got touched on because my planning was bad and i wasn't able to find the room in the story (like some emma back story, more about jasper's family dynamics, also a bit more of a deep dive into kai's relationship with his family) (also towards the end i felt pretty burned out and just wanted to move on haha) [i'm not saying to plan every scene right from the get go, there's always room to adjust and remove or add stuff while you're working on the project, but a few important anker points here and there are important, at least for me!]

shortcuts are also your best friend, use all of them. 3d models too!

when you start publishing, don't get discouraged by algorithms and statistics and numbers (i say as that's something i still struggle with daily LOL), agonising over these things is pointless because they're mostly out of your control, focus on things you can actively do to be proud of your work. also instead of comparing yourself to others, instead compare yourself to past you! look how far you've come compared to the you from last year :>

i hope any of this helps, sorry for rambling lol if there's ever any specific questions, my asks are always open and i'll do my best to try and help out!! i'm also still learning and don't consider myself to be a person who really has anything to teach to anyone, but i can share my progress and experiences and hype you up if needed, hehe

good luck with your comic!!

[camaro-and-smokes]

The Letter

Rating: Mature Warning: Major Character Death Category: M/M Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Relationship: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington Characters: Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove Additional Tags: Harringrove, Heavy Angst, I mean seriously heavy, Mentions of Death

Notes: This is my 9th and final entry to the @harringroveson-bingo 2022-2023 square A1: What could've been. NOTE! This fic has an overall theme that some might find disturbing. If you choose to read, make sure you have tissues. Because I cried my eyes off when I wrote this.

Summary: The fact that the letter needed to be written in the first place was the worst.

::::::::::

Billy,

Steve looked at the name on the paper. How it smudged when his tear fell on the ink that hadn’t yet dried in full. He let out a frustrated scream and crushed the paper, chucking it onto the floor with other crumbled papers that covered the big part of the room’s floor.

He leaned onto the table and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, and took a deep breath to keep himself from crying again. The sleeves and the hem of his shirt were soaked because he had run out of tissues a long time ago. But he couldn’t leave the house to buy more before he got his feelings on a paper.

It was the only way he knew to tackle the bottomless hurt that was his life now after a long agonizing time—and yet, all too soon.

He wanted the letter to be perfect, but it felt like every start had something wrong from the get go.

But everything was wrong now. Him having to write the letter in the first place was the worst.

His head hurt, his eyes hurt, and his heart ached. If ever, now he knew that heart could indeed break. Because his had.

And nothing would ever make it better.

He was angry at Billy for leaving. For going away. For hurting him like no one else ever could. Shattering his heart into a thousand pieces. It could never be put together again the way it had been.

Maybe he should’ve told Billy that his leaving would make him a shadow of his former self. Maybe it would’ve made all the difference. Maybe Billy would’ve stayed if he had.

But Billy probably had known that even without him saying the words.

Steve knew it was useless, all this anger. But he was at a point he would’ve done anything to have Billy back. If it would make a difference, he would travel on the other side of the world to find him. He would give his left kidney, if it changed everything. His life, even.

The things he would do just to see Billy one more time, to have him in his arms, just once more. Just one more touch, one more kiss.

People told him he would find someone new. That he would get over Billy.

As if it was that simple. How do you get over someone who made you the person you are? Someone you wanted to make happy every moment of every day? Someone who made you happy just by existing?

Why would you ever want to get over something like that?

He sat back down, and took another paper in front of him, and started writing.

Billy… You broke me into a thousand pieces. My life halted that moment on that couch when you left. I’m still there, sitting, still unable to breathe, just waiting for you to come back into my arms.

I’ve never hurt more, and I wish you could feel how much. I know it’s not fair to think like that. But you took everything from me. I was left with nothing, and now I don’t know how I’m supposed to live.

Because you were my everything.

There’s so much we should’ve done instead of what we did. We used to bicker about such useless things and moped in different rooms.

We should’ve taken that trip to Hawaii you always wanted. I don’t know why I always said no. Just a long weekend. Two days off from work. I could’ve done that. Or the grass in the backyard that always burned in the summer when there wasn’t enough rain. I should’ve just changed it into a plastic one and you would've had green grass all year long.

Or we should've had that baby you so much wanted, with a surrogate mother. Then I’d at least have them to remind me of you. Someone looking like you. Maybe even being a little like you.

So many things you wanted, and I denied them from you. And now I see I denied them also from myself.

What could have been if in all those moments I would’ve just listened instead and agreed to what you wanted? And then just kissed everything better.

Yes, we should’ve kissed so much more. And made love. Even though I loved your mind, it was never a secret that I adored your body. I don’t think I can ever touch anyone the way I did you.

I don’t think I will ever even want to.

I wish I’d known how to fix everything. How to fix whatever was causing it all, quietly eating you from the inside until it was too late to stop it.

But I know these what ifs are useless. You’re beyond of point of no return. You’re not coming back. The fucking cancer took you from me.

I loved you so much. More than I realized even myself until now when I can no longer tell you.

I just wish that when my words weren’t enough to tell you how much I loved you, my deeds spoke for themselves, even if they weren't always perfect, and that all of them together said everything you needed to hear.

Billy, you will forever be my first and my last, my alpha and my omega, my everything.

Now my only wish is that when it’s my time to join you, you’ll be at the gates, waiting.

Your ever loving husband, Steve

[hanoella]

A Matter of Time (1/2)

Pairing: Bucky x healer!Reader

Word Count: Just under 3k

Summary: Healing others took a lot out of you. It was only a matter of time until it was going to be too much on your body.

Warnings: Hardcore angst, blood, grave injury, explicit description of injury, medical life support, needles? still not good at this stuff.

A/N: Another @wkemeup writing challenge prompt! Thanks so much everyone for all the love and support on my first fic!

Prompt: Believing they’re about to die, Character A confesses their feelings for Character B before they pass out.

---

           It was only a matter of time.

          Healing always took so much out of you. One day, it was going to be too much for your body to handle. You hadn’t explicitly told anyone that it drains you. Only the observant picked up on it. It’s the reason why Natasha never asked for your help with minor things. It’s also why Bucky plain refused your help nowadays. He was hyper aware of everything around him and that included you. He always saw the light sheen of sweat forming on your brow, the way you became slightly breathless, and the increase in your pulse. When there was a major injury, he was very well aware of the tell-tale signs of exhaustion.

          The very first time that he let you work on his shoulder, he had asked what it was like out of curiosity.

          “Well… it’s kind of like projecting the pain onto myself. I’ve always been very in tune with my body. So ever since this,” you pause to gesture with your hands. “I can usually tell what the problem is. For example, I can tell that this specific muscle is bothering you,” you say as you gently put pressure on the specific aching tendon in his arm. Bucky winced before feeling the warmth reach deep into his muscles. He let out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Turning slightly so that you could partly see his face, he thanked you. For a reason he couldn’t understand, a big smile slowly developed on your face.

          “What?” He asked.

          “Nothing, I’m just glad you finally let me work on it. I can see now that you’ve been… suffering. I’m just happy you’re feeling better.”

          Bucky felt his face flush slightly and turned back to face forward. Amused, you started humming lightly as you continued your work.

           Not that he would admit it but since then, there may have been… other reasons why he is always paying close attention to you. You reminded him of Steve. Somebody who was truly selfless. The one to make the sacrifice play. You may be less on the forefront of the battles but the work and the sacrifices you make for the world were just as big. Bucky found that he admired you for that. It stirred up feelings in his chest that he chose to ignore. It also made him nervous.

           Every time you were needed, he was assigned as your bodyguard. You could handle yourself better than the average civilian, but you wouldn’t consider yourself a fighter. Considering that he preferred to stay out of the spotlight, as well as the fact that his relationship with the public was still rocky, it ended up being the ideal position for him. At first, he was nervous because he was protecting something incredibly important. More so than any jewel or riches that existed. You were someone that could practically bring someone back from the dead. If he couldn’t protect you, he was practically sentencing anyone who would need your help in the future, to death. Certainly, a weighty responsibility that would make anyone nervous.

           It grew to be more than that though. Each time he protected you from a threat, no matter how small, your appreciation made it worth it. Your gratitude, which manifested itself into words, notes, and small gifts, sustained him. He had a hidden drawer filled with smiley faces on post it notes and cute little Tupperware containers that had held homemade sweet treats.

          But his favorite reward was not anything he could bring back to his apartment. It was your touch. The small brushes against his arm grew into touches and squeezes. In turn, it grew into grasping his hand while thanking him and once, a quick hug before you jumped back and apologized. He blushed lightly and looked away, letting you know that it was okay, he didn’t mind. Actually, Bucky would’ve preferred for that moment to have lasted forever. Because when you pulled away, he was suddenly aware of how starved he felt without your touch. That one action had been the gateway to a life filled with longing. He would chase that feeling forever; He could not bear the thought of being without you. That’s what made him nervous. He felt like he couldn’t think clearly anymore around you. He was going to make a mistake.

          It was only a matter of time.

---

          Waiting in the Quinjet with Bucky, you listened for updates on the mission. This time, they had gotten intel about a subbranch of Hydra dedicated to chemical warfare. Fearing another threat like anthrax, you set out to stop it. Everyone was in the building and you were on standby in case any pathogens got loose. Wanda could contain it, and you could eradicate it by healing all of the infected, and then they could disinfect the area. Hopefully, though, it was just a precaution.

           The atmosphere was calm, the lights off since the night sky was clear in the mountains. Moonlight filtering in through the front windshield, you were taking Bucky through the latest playlist you had curated for him when Nat radioed in.

           “We’ve almost got the lab secured. No injuries.”

           “Word.” You radioed back casually as Bucky looked at you confused.

           You were about to explain the response and pull up urban dictionary when Steve radioed back as well.

           “We had a group escape, some guards protecting the head researcher. They’re headed towards the jet. He blocked off the tunnel he used to escape so they’ll get to you before we can reach him.”

           “Copy that.” Bucky radioed back as he got up.

           When you got up to follow him, he gave you a look.

           “Hey, don’t look at me like that! I’m not completely useless. Besides, I think I could take on a lab lackey.”

          “I don’t want you to get caught up in the rest of it.” He responded seriously.

          Looking at him and realizing it wasn’t up for debate, your expression sobered up.

          “Okay. Just be careful, please.”

          He nodded as he heard voices approaching. He headed down the ramp and met them outside of the jet. You peaked out of the opening of the ramp as he took them out one by one. When all five were on the ground, you came out and checked to make sure he was okay.

          “Wow, impressive.” You commented, nudging one of the guys with your foot.

          “Wait,” you said, eyebrows scrunching together. “None of these guys are in a lab coat.”

           Just as he was about to respond, he glanced to the side and quickly pushed you out of the way. The lab coat tackled him where you had just been standing. They went rolling towards the edge of the cliff and you shouted his name.

           “Bucky!”

           He kicked the researcher away from him while still on the ground. As the man started rolling off of the cliff, he grabbed Bucky’s leg. Bucky started scrambling to find a grip as the scientist slid off the cliff, trying to take Bucky with him. You ran over to the edge, grabbing Bucky’s arm to support him as he tried to kick the guard off of his leg.

           “With you out of the picture, the path forward will be successful. Hail Hydra.” He shouted as he grabbed a knife from his pocket and stabbed it into Bucky’s thigh.

           Bucky grunted loudly as the scientist took the knife out and stabbed it back in. You strained to hold him up as he struggled to kick him off, blood streaming down his leg. With one more heavy kick, the man lost his grip and fell down the mountain. At the same time, the force of the kick had loosened the ground under you. There was a crack and you locked eyes with Bucky in panic.

          You cried out as you used all of your strength to bring him back up over the cliff. It started falling away as soon as Bucky had found his footing and he lunged towards the jet while grabbing you. He held you with one arm and kept you from hitting the ground as the other forearm took the impact and held you both up. Looking incredulously at the strength of his arm and then turning your head back to look at him, he gently set you down. You were both breathing heavily as you lifted your head to see the platform you were just standing on was now gone.

           You laid your head back down and closed your eyes in relief. Bucky took the opportunity to take you in. Your hair formed a halo around your face perfectly as it was spread out on the grass and the moon’s light made you look like your skin was glowing. You looked ethereal. Before you got the chance to see him gazing at you, he flopped over onto his back next to you, catching his breath. You looked over at him, the stars now reflected in your eyes, and started laughing lightly. He didn’t know what you were laughing at, but it made him start laughing. As it subsided, you sat up and faced him.

           “Can I please heal those?” You asked, gesturing towards his leg. You had never worked on his thighs and you wanted to make sure he was comfortable.

           He paused, partly out of shyness and partly not wanting to tire you out. Your gaze lingered on the wounds and he saw how much it worried you. He nodded and you leaned over to take a look. As you moved the blood-soaked fabric out of the way, he winced. The wounds were deep and bleeding still. You focused your hands overtop the injury and concentrated. The soft white glow enveloped your hands and his leg. He watched as the bleeding started slowing. After a few moments, the wound started closing and the pain started easing. Bucky tried to get up as soon as it became bearable, but you put a hand on his chest to stop him. Though your breath was slightly strained, the determination in your eyes stopped him and he slowly laid back down. Soon enough, he couldn’t even tell that anything had happened. Once it was completely healed, you then flopped down next to him.

          You both settled, watching the clouds pass in front of the moon and stars. After you caught your breath, you spoke:

           “Bucky Barnes, I owe you my life. Several times over. Thank you.”

           “I think you’re the one who just saved my life, doll.” He said, amused.

           “Ooh, doll. Somebody’s finally warming up to me.” You said, laughter in your tone as you stood up. “Do you call every damsel in distress you save a doll?”

          The answer to that question was “no” but before he could respond, you held your hand out to him. Bucky sat up and accepted it, standing all the way up. As he let go of your hand, you wrapped your arms around his midsection, cheek resting against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Bucky swallowed and then slowly brought his arms around you, his chin resting on the top of your head. Content.

          Unexpectedly, he stiffened. Something was wrong.

          “Bucky?” You called his name hesitantly as you stepped out from his grasp.

          You peered at his face and saw his pupils so blown out that you could barely see the blue anymore.

          “Bucky!?” You shouted as he fell to the ground.

          He couldn’t control anything except for his eyes as muscles all over his body started twitching. You knelt down and panicked, laying your hands against his chest, searching for an explanation. You hovered your hands over his heart and felt it so tight and strained it was barely pumping. You felt as if you were choking, and you weren’t even feeling the full effect.

          Cardiac arrest. How is this possible?

          You racked your brain for explanations. You instantly thought of the researcher. You traced a strange substance you felt through his veins until you found where it originated- from the knife wound.

           Poison.

           At this point, it had reached his heart. What little it was pumping was spreading the poison. It’s completely taken over his blood. You locked eyes with Bucky and saw the pain and panic in his eyes, his clenched jaw, and the tendons in his neck, outlined clearly by the strain. He was suffering.

          No. Much worse.

          He was dying.

          You had to save him.

          You interlocked one hand over top of the other and started doing compressions on his chest. What was normally a soft white light was now blinding. You could see the outline of his heart, and with each pump, the white light travelled an inch down his veins. Slowly, with each thrust, the white light made it further and further out from his heart.

          “What happened!?” Steve shouted. You hadn’t even heard the team come back.

          “We saw the light and came back as fast as we could!” Sam said.

          You shrugged Steve’s hand off your shoulder as you continued compressions.

          “Poison.” You panted.

          Thump.

          “He’s-”

          Thump.

          “Dying.”

          Thump.

          You hadn’t realized you were crying. Tears now spilled freely onto Bucky’s jacket.

          Steve stayed kneeling next to you as the rest of the team stood back, watching in amazement as the light made its way through Bucky’s body.

          Bucky locked eyes with him. He placed a hand on Buck’s head and wiped the sweat off of his brow.

          “You’re gonna be okay, Buck. You’ll pull through.” He said with a small reassuring smile.

          It wasn’t himself he was worried about. He’d never seen you exert yourself this much. He was in so much pain but dying would be better than seeing you go through this.

          You shouted with each thrust, trying to keep yourself from tiring out and stopping. The white light had made its way back around to the heart and Bucky’s entire body started relaxing. You felt relief as he stopped seizing and his eyes started closing. As you wiped the sweat off of your face, you realized your nose was bleeding. Just as you were about to sit back, you froze.

          There’s no heartbeat. You desperately connected yourself back to his body and felt that his organs were shutting down. You started compressions again, this time more vigorously. You were going to have to filter his organs for multiple rounds to reach every part, every cell affected by the poison. You wailed, crying harder as you felt his ribs crack from the force and then heal, only to be cracked again. You were starting to get lightheaded, and your muscles were burning. You could not keep it up for much longer. Desperate to get him back, you call to Steve beside you.

          “Steve. There’s. Adrenaline. In. Jet.” You gasped between each push.

          Steve was so distraught between seeing the both of you that he didn’t move right away. Natasha instinctively ran to the jet and brought it back, digging through it until she found the syringe and uncapped the needle.

          Natasha knew she didn’t need to confirm whether you really wanted to do this.

          “Injecting now.”

          She thrust the needle into your thigh and clicked the top, releasing the spring and shooting the needle into the muscle.

          You wailed again in anguish, fighting through the pain until you felt it hit your heart. The light had turned into a pillar, a beacon in the sky. Your hair once again in a halo, floating around you. The team had to shield their eyes and brace themselves against the force that hit them. You put newfound strength into each push until you could feel that every single drop of poison was filtered out of his body. Finally, Bucky opened his eyes.

          You stopped pushing on his chest.

          “Bucky?” you asked hoarsely.

          He was still coming to but was well enough to sit up. He clutched at his chest and found no pain. He then looked at his hand.

          “How did you-?”

          You fell over.

          Bucky scrambled over to you and pulled you into his arms. You coughed against his chest, bloodying his shirt. He looked at you and then at Steve, mouth agape. Steve could only look sadly back.

          He cradled you and brushed the hair out of your face, blood from your nose and mouth smearing before being covered by the new blood steadily streaming out.

          “I’m sorry,” You said softly, the sleepy look on your face deceivingly masking the gravitas of the situation.

          “Don’t apologize.” He said quietly, pausing to keep the tears from showing. It proved to be pointless as his voice cracked, asking:

          “Why would you do this? You should’ve just let me die.”

          You closed your eyes.

          “Because I love you, Buck. Always have.” You slurred tiredly.

          You whimpered and then stilled.

          Bucky cried while rocking you in his arms.

 ---

Part II

          You opened your eyes to a black room. No, not a room. There were no walls. You glanced down at your hands. You could still see them so it wasn’t dark, just… black.

          “Well, hello.”

          You spun around and saw the source of the voice.

          A serene, beautiful woman who had long dark hair and dressed in a green tunic addressed you.

          “What has brought you here, young one?”

Read Part II Here

[darthwheezely]

sand and stone - g.w. - 1

summary: marine biologist y/n has made a major discovery - george, prince of the north reef and heir to the throne of oceanic royals. but when sinister forces threaten his very life - and the life of his family - will they be able to make it out of this alive?

pairing: merman!george weasley x marine biologist!reader

warnings: cussing, light angst (in this chapter!) possible sex in future chapters (if so: I’ll add nsfw warnings to each chapter when that occurs!), cruelty

a/n: it’s taken ages for me to update my series’ and for that i am so sorry :,) i just needed to bust out smaller projects like one shots to bring my head space back and i PROMISE i walk chapter 5 will be next as i’ve been actively tackling it for a HOT second now, it just has some intense content to write so it’s been hard for me to tackle yk?

Fred replayed the scene over and over, he knew there was nothing that could bring George back, nor heal his guilt in the process. Fred was older, he should’ve been wiser by default, he was always the protector and for the first time in his life he had chosen his own mischief over George.

“Fred!”

“George!”

And in his mind the outcome would always be the same:

George was gone.

And it was his fault.

Palace life was more stifling than it ever was, with Fred next in line as coronation as the next High Prince with a few more titles after his elder brother Percy, a marital match was next, and for some odd reason (Fred noted) that was taking a higher value than searching for his own brother.

And that didn’t really make sense to him.

Fred had asked every living merperson in the court if they had seen the ship, what it looked like, where it was going, anything to conclude that information was out there. But alas, none of them knew anything important.

King Arthur, on the other hand, didn’t seem to want to help at all.

So here was Fred, now pushing his way through the doors of the main throne room, watching with vile contempt as his father and his oldest brother Bill chatted about something making them laugh so hard they were wheezing.

“Son! How lovely a surprise,” Arthur had looked bemusedly at his fourth and bullheaded son.

“Don’t bore me with your bullshit, Father, I know nothing I have to say will probably mean anything to you anyways,” Fred snapped, prompting Bill to rise from his seat.

“Fred, what is going on with you as of late? What makes you think you can address our father, the King mind you, like this-“

“Because with all due respect, big brother” he shifted his eyes from Bill back to their father, who was looking coldly back at him with less than no remorse, “I’ve come to ask about the search party for George.”

“Then, ask, son, you know your brother and I can’t do your little tease all day,” Arthur coughed, waving his aide to bring him his handkerchief.

“How has the party been? Has anyone found anything new since the discovery that it was a boat that took him?” Fred was pacing, tapping his chin, a mannerism he always did when he was in thought.

Arthur sighed in frustration, “we would have told you if there was any other news, now get dressed for your courtship ball tonight-“

“No.” Fred said simply.

“N-no?”

“Yes, no, as in no, I will not be attending the courtship ball tonight.” He crossed his arms and looked from Bill back to his now flabbergasted father. “Is there a problem?”

It was now Bill who answered an exasperated, “yes, there’s a problem, all the eligible women for currents on end will be in attendance and you need a wife before the kelp harvest, you know this-“

“Ah, forgive me, because a wife and a mindless piece of grass is more important than my own goddamn brother,” Fred spat, “my mistake, your Majesty.”

Arthur rose from his seat and started in towards Fred. “Frederick, Prince of the North Reef, you’ve got a lot of nerve coming in here and-“

“Demanding justice for your own child?”

The room was silent for a moment, Fred looking mightily angry but also pleased in the fact that yes, he had gotten his father right where he wanted him.

“Son. I’ll strike you a deal,” he said quietly. Fred scoffed and rolled his eyes, heading towards the exit.

“Father, I know the extent of your deals and as such, I’m not going to participate in your little games,” he called from behind.

“You don’t want to find George yourself?”

Fred stopped dead in his tracks.

“Freddie...a father knows his sons better than they expect...and George is your other half and...” he swallowed, “this search isn’t going as well as it should and we all need answers,” he finished softly. Fred turned around and tears pricked at his eyes.

“If you choose to find your brother on land and you do so in one week’s time,” he closed his eyes and inhaled, “you’ll never need marry-“

“Father-!” Bill sputtered.

“-and never need settle in any of the Reef palaces I’ve created. Son, you’ll be-“

“I’ll be free of royal life if I so choose” he rubbed his jaw, taking a moment to think.

“You’re the best brother I’ve ever had, Freddie!”

“And you���re my best friend, Georgie!”

“And we’ll never be apart-“

“Not as long as we live-“

“-forever,” Fred said to himself softly, before nodding.

“If I’m not back in a week - send the search. You don’t want two dead sons on your hands,” he paced back to the door, pushing both sides open with both hands.

“...and I’ve got answers to find.”

As soon as Fred left the room, Arthur chuckled deeply.

“Bill?”

“Yes, father?”

“Keep an eye on him. We don’t need him getting out and stirring up any more trouble.” He rose from his throne, eyes still staring at the door.

“My son must learn to be quiet.”

—

George was back in the water, he knew that much. His head lolled back and forth as he slowly regained composure, seeing his tail as shiny and new as ever, but somehow unable to move it. He felt exhausted, like he’d swam to the South Reef and back like he used to do with-

“Fred...” he murmured, not really to anyone, just calling out to him somewhere. He realizes after a couple minutes that he was slowly sinking, his eyes fluttering open and shut again slowly in time before he hit the ground.

It was sand. He was in water, he knew that much, immediately jolting up swimming forward until-

“Neptune, what the fuck is this?” He rubbed his head, hitting something unbeknownst to him. He slapped and hit at the surface in front of him, making a sound of echo and reverb as he squinted his eyes and saw:

This was not home.

“Hey - hey let me out!” He shouted, banging on the clear surface, clearly seeing -

“Humans...” he mumbled, the laden horror setting in, backing up in shock and swimming for dear life before he hit the other side of this surface, repeating the same banging, desperate to be freed.

“Let me out! Let me go, I need to find my brother, please!” He cried out, swimming every way possible way, hitting the hard and translucent surface every time.

“What’s he doing?” A voice said, a younger woman for sure.

“He’s trying to break free, but unfortunately for him: that’s plexiglass.” A distinctly deeper and more even voice replied.

“He - he wants out.”

That voice. George stopped and turned around, he’d heard that voice before.

“I shouldn’t have brought him back, Dr. Lockhart-“

“No-“

“Yes, and - and now we’ve stranded him here, I mean, we don’t even know how long he’ll survive under isolation-“

“That’s enough, Miss Y/L/N!” The man shouted, stilling the voices in the laboratory. He cleared his throat and pushed up his glasses before smiling tightly at the girl.

“You forget yourself, Miss Y/L/N,” he said softly. “You may be a fantastic marine student, but you are still just that: a student. And until you reach a higher potential,” George watched with rapt eyes as the man made his way to her pressing a button.

“That is all you will be. A very. Smart. Student.” He clipped, turning a gauge.

George heard a very loud sound, looking up and seeing a large square thing coming down to the top of the encasement he was in. He scrambled to swim up, attempting to push it up and off, but it was too heavy and eventually he realized -

“I’m trapped,” he said hollowly, looking out at the people in the lab, now looking highly uncomfortable and exiting the room.

“Please - please I need to get back home,” he pleaded. “No, no, please” he banged harder on the plexiglass, “let me out! Please, let me out, I’m begging you!”

He saw her then, her face of...sadness. And remorse. And maybe something else.

“Please,” he whispered at her, before she swallowed, keeping her eyes to the floor and exiting the laboratory.

George, Prince of the North Reef was alone.

•••

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[alphabravocharliedelta]

Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell! Reader IX

Series: Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War

Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell! Reader

Word Count: 6500+

[Chapter VIII] [Chapter X]

Summary: After somehow reconciling with Adler, Bell and the team are left to continue their pursuit of bringing down the undercover spy ring, but it proves to be more of a challenge as Bell struggles to move on from their Perseus-affiliated past.

Content Warning: mature content, vulgar language, mention of drugs, straight up agony

Notes: Writing action is so hard. 

January 21, 1984

The Pines Mall, New Jersey

Two hours.

That was the slim interval between Stitch's departure from the safehouse to Zenya and Adler's arrival to the mess left behind.

He missed you by two hours.

Thus, with each minute that passed, your chances of survivability lowered.

With these kinds of thoughts wracking around in Adler's brain, the plane ride to New Jersey was becoming more tense than it should have. He couldn't even rest during the flight, and instead just crossed his arms and looked out the window into darkness. 

Not only was the lives of innocent people on his shoulders, but you were also part of the mix and taken hostage. If he were to ease up now, there was the chance of a slip up. Adler needed to concentrate, but without you there, it felt like a piece was missing— a big chunk gone from the whole. 

He had but a few hours to assemble a team. A part of him didn't want to participate in the mission to the Pines Mall, but he was the one leading the squadron, so there was no other option available. 

Thus, Adler dreaded at the thought of finding out what Stitch had in store for him. Simultaneously, though, he was itching for the encounter to release his pent up stress and project the anger. The last interaction he had with his nemesis was taking out his left eye, and the last thing he heard about him was that Kravchenko sent him to prison. But, as it turns out, you broke him out, and let the monster loose. 

Did he blame you? No, not entirely, since he himself had a part to play in the end. Everything about you stemmed from him. Like Hudson said back then, if he only killed Perseus in Vietnam, they didn't have to deal with Greenlight. And if he just killed Stitch, you wouldn't be in this situation.

But if those events didn't happen, he would have never met you. It was bothersome to consider that the world worked in such a way. 

A meeting was held right as he and Zenya got off the plane, and he had made the call ahead of time to assemble a small team consisting of himself, Zenya, Wyatt “Bulldozer” Jones, and Woods. Mason and Lazar were quick to volunteer the moment he broke the news to them earlier, but he couldn't let them on. Because Hudson wouldn't allow it.

"Bell's not a traitor." 

It was taking Adler’s entire willpower not to blow off at him. And yet at the simple suggestion that you went rogue, he went ballistic. How ironic it was to hear someone else tell him the same excuse he told Lazar, Mason, Sims, and Woods after returning alone from the cliff. Even as stupid as it sounded, a lie that fell so easily off of one’s tongue can become a truth to many.

"I know that, Adler. Trust me, I’m not too keen on it either,” Hudson proclaims. “I don’t know what’s going on through Black’s mind. He wasn’t too eager to find out that the asset was taken off radar.”

"The asset you asked Bell to meet was a Perseus agent. How did that fly under the radar? Bell did what should have been done a long time ago."

Adler was seething, trying his utmost best to not storm out of the room. 

"The orders are to execute any hostiles. And, unfortunately, that includes Bell. The mission comes first, I hope you remember that. Lives of thousands of civilians are at stake, and I don't need your personal agenda—"

"You made an exception for Mason. They shouldn't be any different."

"Mason is one of our own."

"And Bell isn't? You were at DEFCON 2, and even then you put your trust in Mason. Or are we just playing favorites now?"

Hudson pressed his lips in a thin line, unable to come up with an explanation or excuse. This scenario was too uncanny, almost like a replica of what they went through years ago. In Hudson’s place was Adler, as you were to Mason. As much as he hated to admit it, he had actually taken a liking to you. But, having to balance out the decisions made between him, Adler, and Black was crucial, and this was the best option to tackle the situation at play.

“Bell provided us the information we needed to even have this mission in the first place,” Adler continued to interpose, “We at least owe them the benefit of the doubt.” 

“Look, Adler. I had enough trouble as is just trying to convince the higher ups to let you lead the team. This isn’t my call, or your call to make. It’s Black’s,” was all Hudson could respond with. “If you mess this up, then everything is done for.”

“We’ll see about that.”

As if on cue, Lazar, Woods, and Sims pile into the room. “So, what’s the game plan?” Woods inquires, his usual attitude shifting into a more pensive state.

“Priority is the gas and Stitch and his men. It’s up to us to find Bell after that’s taken care of.” 

"That's not what I said, Adler," Hudson dictates. All eyes avert to him. "If Bell's considered hostile, then treat them as one." 

"This is my team, Hudson, I tell them what I want them to hear. Worry about briefing your own squad." Hudson gives him a hard look before parting. Adler redirects his attention to Sims. "Did you get what I asked?"

His friend nods, plopping down a folder. "Right here." Skimming through the contents, he pulls out an intricate blueprint of the Pines mall, handing it over. "The surveillance cameras were sabotaged just a couple hours before you came back from Berlin, but I managed to restore a couple of them."

Still photos from said film were thrown into the mix of papers, Adler running his fingers down the edges. They had limited lighting, but judging from the context, it was Stitch's henchmen placing canisters around the mall.

No evidence of you.

"Is that all?"

"Just one more. Aerial pics. The canisters seemed to be focused at the middle of the place."

Woods joins in, asking the question Adler had been dying to ask: "Any signs of Bell?"

"One of the security guards reported that a couple of large semi-trucks were seen unloading at the back," Lazar chimes, "There's no camera in the storage area, but I'm guessing that's—"

"Don't worry about Bell. We can find them once we deactivate the bomb."

Lazar trails off as a disgruntled look appears on his face. It was the coldness in Adler's voice that stunned him the most. Considering that you and Adler managed to re-establish a relationship over the past few months was surprising on it's own, and to hear him just brush you off and infer that you were a liability was… shocking. "But—"

"If the bomb goes off, we're done for. And if we're all dead then what's the fucking point?" Adler rubs out the butt of his cigarette. "Eliminate all threats first, then once that's over we can look for [L/N]. That's the best outcome we can achieve."

“So you’re just telling me to ignore the fact that Hudson labeled Bell as an enemy?” Woods 

"Black did, not Hudson," Adler corrects. As much as they weren’t seeing eye to eye, there was no reason to hold grudges. They were both in a tight spot, so he had to give some credit to him for sticking through it all. The guy managed to get him to lead the team, and that was all he could have asked for. "Don't heed any attention to it. Bell's going to be fine, so just focus on the mission. That's all I'm going to say on that matter, got it?"

He's met with nods and hushed agreement.

In contrast to his words, Adler felt his gut churn as he listened to himself.  It was perfectly within reason to model the mission in such a way, and doing so would ensure the safest route of getting you, and everyone else, alive. He could only place blind trust in you to hold strong on your own while they finish their business. It hurt him enough trying to put the partition in the relationship to avoid clouding his judgement, but he needed everything to work out. For the sake of you and the general public.

With the few hours remaining, he couldn't sleep comfortably leading up to the operation. Adler spent most of the time checking up on equipment, making sure everything was working properly and that nothing was missing. From the attachments down to the amount of bullets in a magazine, he checked it all. How could he rest, knowing the fact that you were out there at the mercy of the enemy?

And he blamed himself for it. He should have brought you along. You were stuck in West Berlin for the majority of the time ever since they found you, and he couldn’t even give you the small opportunity to return to the states. How you were excited to go to Washington, only for him to break the news. The sheer look of disappointment on your face physically hurt. And because of his neglect, you were gone.

“I'm trusting you on this one Adler,” Lazar had told him. “We all are. Probably not the best thing to have on your shoulders, but it's for Bell's sake. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Despite the positive words, it was easy to detect the nervousness and worry wrapped between them. Everyone who came to know you could only suck up their emotional baggage and lock it up as the time to deploy neared.

So when the helicopter landed on the side of the mall, Adler tried his hardest to set his feelings aside. It was all part of this line of work; there was bound to be sacrifices. Losing teammates and friends was a price to pay. He's been doing this for years, and he should be used to it.

He takes a deep inhale before exhaling silently and exiting the vehicle. 

The mission is priority.

Adler, Zenya, and Woods lined up against the wall, letting Bulldozer approach the doors with a sledgehammer. They were covered on the other side with metal platings, screwed in tightly with bolts. 

“Oh, before we begin,” Woods speaks. All eyes turn towards him, and he makes sure to look at each of them. “I don't care about what Hudson or Black said. If I find any of our fucking bullets inside Bell, I’ll personally hunt you down and end you.” 

He receives a disapproving glare from Adler, who shakes his head to himself. He wanted to side with Woods on this one and switch priorities, but it would only cause conflict and additional worries. And he didn’t need that.

He gives Bulldozer the greenlight. “Do it.”

Bulldozer’s efforts left deep dents in the metal platings as they fell. The interior of the premises was dark, leaving only their flashlights and the neon light strips to illuminate the small area around them. A distance away, a periodic beeping repeated itself. There were no Soviets or anyone to greet them upon their entry, leaving them to push further inside. 

Families of cables were thrown about like vines, slithering across the floor and crawling upward on the walls. There was no purpose in trying to sort through it, as it all ran towards the same direction.

“Watch your step,” Zenya advises.

They followed the river of wires and rounded the corner of the arcade, passing by the bright and cheerful stores that were untouched by the supposed chaos the mall harbored. With the thick tension in the air, their footsteps echoed, calling out and resonating in their own ears.

“Any movement?”

“Not yet.”

At the center of the mall should have been a large fountain running on its own cycle. Instead they were met with the sight of exposed blue and white tiles, damp with whatever little remains of water. Placed right on top of it was the centerpiece— a collection of blue barrels, rigged with explosives. Compared to the photos they’ve seen earlier, there were way more than originally presented.

"What the hell?"

Focusing the flashlights on them reveal it to be the rumored Nova Six gas. Adler's nose wrinkled at the faint smell that filled his nose. It was the same one that was present back in Rebirth Island during the raid.

"The bastard's manufacturing Nova Six again."

Before he could investigate further, an enthusiastic chime comes from the elevator a few feet away. Upon arriving, the doors pull open automatically, letting the bright lights flood out into the darkness. Adler squints at the contrast as the white illuminates the silhouette of the person inside.

Within a blink, enemies emerge seemingly out of thin air, revealing themselves behind corners and on top of the balconies. A few bright red dots appear on Adler and the team's clothing as all weapons become trained onto their figures.

"Shit…”

Adler's watches the shadow that emerges from the elevator. Stitch was almost unrecognizable from the last time he saw him, but with recent photographs and that identifying scar, there was no doubt that he was the guy that he captured from Rebirth Island. 

"Adler," his nemesis greets with a deep timbre.

Adler pulls his arms upwards, redirecting his focus directly at Stitch, gripping the gun handle with the force of a god as the stock digs into his shoulder. “Where are they?!” He ignores Zenya's plea to simmer down, heart pounding against his chest as he faces uncertainty.

Everything was supposed to go smoothly. Take out the hostiles, disengage the bomb, kill or capture Stitch, then find you. Yet there was already a grave miscalculation— There were way more enemies than they estimated. He already knew the second that elevator dinged that the plan was going to be scrapped. All that meticulous planning gone to shit.

"You'll be joining your beloved soon enough once I'm done with you," Stitch replies coldly. There was no time to react as he flags down his troops with a hand signal, closing his fist into the air as all hell breaks loose.

"Fuck, get down!" Woods instructs as he lets a smoke grenade drop to their feet.

The area became hot with gunfire, bullets ricocheting all over the place. Fumes of grey clouds flowed out from the ground, encasing the team as they dived for cover nearby. His earpiece began to fill with information from the rest of the team.

"What's the next step, Adler?" Zenya demands.

What the fuck could they do? Any subtle movement they made was met with a torrent of bullets. His eyes stung as the smoke continued to pour out, trying his best to make out the outlines of the rest of the team nearby. "Jones! Notify the Bravo team to move already!" 

"—ETA about ten minutes!"

"What's the hold up?"

"Police barriers are preventing them from getting in."

"Well, tell them we're fuckin’ outgunned!" He needed to make a decision. Adler presses his lips in a thin line, recalling the layout of the mall. "Team, get to the arcade! We'll just have to hold them off until Hudson and the bomb squad arrives!"

All of them attempt to forge a path to the neon faculty. Woods and Bulldozer hid behind planter islands, providing suppressing fire as more and more enemy troops seemed to flood the entire area. As one body dropped another would soon take its place, much to their frustration. The once polished floor, sparkling clean, was now riddled with holes and covered in soot.

Stitch was nowhere to be found, abruptly disappearing the moment smoke filled the area. 

Woods lets out a moan as a bullet grazes his shoulder. "Ugh, damn it! They're not letting up any fucking time soon! You'll guys have to go on ahead!"

Adler gives out a huff, looking in the opposite direction. "Zenya, on me!"

She returns a confirming nod.

"...Go!"

They both jump out from their spots, heading towards the fluorescent lights.

"RPG!"

The projectile shoots their way. All four of them scatter, jumping away from their hiding spots and diving for the closest cover. Adler forges ahead despite the danger, letting his legs carry him to the arcade.

Woods groans as he lands in an uncomfortable position, but pushes himself back up and pulls inward, a bullet narrowly missing his arm. The place he was crouched at moments before was now a gaping hole. 

"Well, fuck," he grumbles under his breath. There wasn't even a chance to recover, a grenade lands near him.

He jolts up from his spot, running into the closest store and diving behind the counter. The shrapnel belts against the surface around him. "Give me a fucking break…" He peeks around the corner, taking one enemy out as they attempt to reposition closer to him.

Woods takes a brief second to gaze around the store he was in. Majority of the interior was brown, various electronic items and trinkets placed on the shelves and glass display cases. A stray round punctures a hole into one of them, a couple of shards landing on him. His eyes land on a lone door, just right at the corner.

Bulldozer's inconvenienced voice rings in his ear: "Woods! Need some help over here!"

"Hold on!"

He kicks the door open with brute force, and is met with a lone soldier jumping out from behind a collection of boxes. He whips them in the face, knocking them away before putting a couple of shots into their chest. They collide with the ground, a sickening crack coming from underneath them. "Thought you could sneak up on me, huh?" 

"...Frank?"

Woods snaps his head towards the owner of the voice, just right inside the inventory space. There, he was met with a stomach churning sight.

You narrowed your eyes at him, only to ease up within the next instant as you flinch at the sting that came with the contortion of facial muscles. Woods' figure was hard to distinguish, just a blob of muted color, leaving the struggle of refocusing the image to your right eye.

"Holy fuck…" He rushes to your side at breakneck speed, undoing the straps that prevented you from collapsing onto the floor. Woods holds out a aiding arm and catches you as you stumble onto your feet. "What'd he do to you?"

"It's just a flesh wound." You take a few breaths, trying to recuperate your stamina. You didn't know how long you were out, but it was the sound of bullets colliding with the walls that struck you back awake, a wave of nausea hitting you. The gunfire didn't cease on your awakening, and Woods' radio continued to buzz with a multitude of chatter. "What's going on?"

"Tell you later, I just need you to pull yourself together. Can you do that?"

You nod. Woods' voice was full of worry and concern, but given the situation, there was no time to loiter around and lie down to wait for a certified medic. There was no rest for anyone, and peace was only granted where there was no onslaught of danger. Your attention is brought to the cart of red-stained instruments, Stitch's knife placed on top. With your good hand you grasp it and slip it into your belt.

Woods kicks the gun on the floor towards your direction, gesturing at it. "Go get the rifle. We're leaving."

"I… I can't."

Woods was about to inquire the reason for your objections, only to note that your left arm was limp at your side. He sends you a sympathetic look and hands you his sidearm instead, loading it up and preparing it for you. As you readied and stabilized your balance, he quickly wraps a roll of bandages tightly around the left side of your face, and you give him a feeble smile of thanks.

"Something tells me you've done this before."

"An old friend of mine— Weaver."

As he mentions the word friend, you think back to the post it note. "Wait. Mason... How's Mason?!"

Woods hurries out the room with you trailing along behind him. Every move felt sluggish, and you were just waiting for the adrenaline kick to come in. "Mason's not here, he's back home, remember?"

"Yeah, but—"

"Enough chit chat, Bell, there's no time. Save your energy and just concentrate on keeping conscious." He introduces you to the warzone just outside the Eighteen clothing outlet, the sound of turmoil and peril ringing in your ears. "Zenya! Sitrep!"  

He pauses, listening to whatever is being relayed back.

“Well get to the fucking arcade already! Adler should be there—"

Bullets cascade in your direction, and Woods pushes down on your shoulder to get you under cover and courteously takes them out in your stead. He reloads his gun, giving out a frustrated groan, and you felt a little guilty, knowing that you were going to become a hindrance. You withheld an apology, knowing that he would just condemn your words.

Once done, Woods nudges you, pointing his chin towards the Galaxy-themed walls just right across from the shop. "Both legs are still working, right?"

You bow your head as confirmation. "Adler's at that arcade?"

"We're sitting ducks until Hudson's forces join us, so we can't stay in one place for too long." Woods adjusts his posture. "On my mark."

Taking a peek over the counter, you plot out a path, already coming to a rash decision. “You got my back, right?”

"Wh—"

He didn't even get a chance to countdown or answer as you break into a sprint with a small burst of energy that arose. Pain shot up your leg as your foot first made hard contact with the floor, but it quickly ceased to a burn as you focused on one thing, and one thing only. 

"Bell, wait!" 

--------

Adler manages his way to the arcade as a couple of soldiers try to prevent his efforts. Inside, he fights off the both of them, sending an array of rounds into their chest. Another tries to sneak up behind him, but he whips around and delivers a jab to their throat, managing to wrangle the rifle away from their hands and ending them with one to the head.

"Bell, wait!" Woods' voice screeched through the earpiece. 

"Bell?" Adler repeats. A wave of relief washed over him momentarily, lowering his stance. He reaches up to his ear, about to confirm if he heard correctly, but wasn't given the opportunity to as Stitch sneaks up behind him and puts him into a choke hold.

His feet left the ground for a split second as Stitch tugged at him, arm tensing up and pulling tighter. Adler could feel his breath leaving him as he clawed at the arm around his neck, trying to pry it away. The rest of the squad were elsewhere, taking cover from gunfire while also taking out the enemy. 

Spots danced in Adler's vision as his strength started to fade away. His throat was on the verge of being crushed, face changing into a bluish hue.

Right when he was about to give out, he heard the sound of a bullet ripping through flesh, and for a moment Adler thought he was the one that got shot. However, Stitch seemed to grimace at something, giving out a pained and irritated growl as the hold loosened.

Stitch's eyes narrowed towards the direction of the attack. A distance away, just right underneath the open entrance of the game room, a figure stood. Lighting was scarce, but he could make out your form from neon lights as you leaned against the wall with a pistol in hand aimed at them.

"You-"

Stitch wasn't given the opportunity to finish his sentence. Out of bullets, you dropped the gun and charged towards the both of them, tackling him off of Adler. The guy was a unit, but you managed to use your weight to pull it off. Adler collapsed, coughing violently and massaging his neck as you brought Stitch to the floor. He struggled to call out to you as you gave out a warcry.

"Someone just doesn't know how to listen, do they?"

Bringing out the Stitch's knife from your belt, you plunged it downward over his chest, but he holds out a hand, allowing the blade to pierce through it instead. He lets out a pained growl, but uses his other hand to grab a hold of your arm and push against you. Your expression was scrunched up in agony and animosity as your cut hands gripped the handle, opening them even further.

"I ought to put you down like the damn dog you are," Stitch beseeches. 

"If I were to die, it wouldn't be through the likes of you."

The tip pierced through his vest. Just a bit more, you told yourself, putting every effort into it. You could see the cloth peeling away as the metal pierced the area. His grip on you was insanely tight as he tried to fight against you, you couldn't feel both your arms anymore. Left arm useless, you used it as a weight to further press against the hilt. Blood rushed to your head, and your ears were ringing. You only focused on the only objective in front of you— Kill Vikhor Kuzmin. 

A surge of strength arises with him, and you could feel him regaining some stamina over you. You were already weakened and struggling to keep awake, adrenaline the only thing letting you move freely. Passing out wasn't an option, so you had to do something.

Even so, it wasn’t enough.

Stitch began to fight back, overwhelming you with strength you couldn't muster. He turns your hand towards yourself, the blade pointing at your front. Yet you glared daggers, refusing to back down. You tighten your jaw in the effort to resist, ignoring the burning sensation in the entire upper left side of your body. It was as if someone had laid a fresh bed of lava underneath.

"Bell!" Adler yells. He reaches out to a fallen rifle close by, aiming right down the iron sights and pulling the trigger.

He was met with the sound of continuous clicking as nothing came out from the end. There wasn't even time to think or breathe. Adler throws it to the side in frustration and pushes himself up, only for his vision to become tilted. His ear was ringing thanks to a busted eardrum from the RPG from earlier, and he struggled to maintain proper balance. 

"Hudson's crew just arrived! The heli is right outside!" Bulldozer announces in his ear.

“Agh!” 

Adler raises his head, only to see Stitch had sunk the knife into your stomach.

"You ought to choose your words carefully," Stitch leers, towering over your body.

"Bell!" 

His voice cracked, and something inside Adler snaps. He zooms forward, giving it his all as he plows through, knocking Stitch off of you. The wind gets knocked out of him as they both fall onto the floor. A fist collides with Stitch’s mask, Adler following up with his knee full force into the stomach. He grasps at the ends of the black hoodie, pulling it towards him as he delivers a brutal headbutt.

Basic close combat training Adler learned through the years was thrown out the window. Rules couldn’t hold him back in this encounter, the only way to win would be to fight dirty. It was a boxing match without a referee. And considering what Stitch had just done, there was no point in following basic etiquette.

You could hear Adler’s cries of distress and efforts with each blow he received. Stitch somehow gets the upper hand, delivering a good jab, throwing him into a daze. Your consciousness was slipping away, pain surging from every part of your body if you even dared to move. Tears brimmed at the corners of your eyes, knowing that you couldn’t do anything. 

Their blurred figures fought mere feet away from you, and you could only play the dying casualty as Adler began to get pummeled, Stitch’s driving bringing his knee to his stomach and causing him to double over and gag. A well-timed hook connects to the right side of his jaw, sending him downward.

Adler!

You cursed yourself, balling your hands into fists. Digging your nails into the carpet, you try to roll onto your side in an effort to crawl, only to be met with excruciating pain. You gave out a whine at the sensation.

Why am I so damn weak?! 

Darkness swarmed your vision. Adler was on the ground now, rendered useless. His pathetic attempts to get an advantage, whether it be through grabbing of the clothes or wrists, was easily thwarted as Stitch straddled on top of him and beat the living daylights out of him. 

Both of you were going to die here, in some random New Jersey mall, both to the hands of a man you once worked alongside with. His vendetta against the both consisted of nothing but vengeance, and he was about to succeed.

You couldn't do shit. Drugged up, left eye slashed and your left arm broken, this was the worst state to be in. And now had an internal bleeding thanks to the metal serrated ends clawing into your insides. You blink slowly, about to let darkness take the remains of your sight. It was useless. Every effort was spent preventing Stitch from further harming Adler, but even then you couldn't prevail.

This is it. 

Giving up wasn't easy, and you thought there would never be a day where you actually threw in the towel. Yet, with everything you have just experienced, and what was happening now, you were definitely dealt the short end of the stick. Perseus was going to win, and one of the biggest thorns that continued to prod at them was about to be wiped off the grid. The Nova Six gas was going to be released to the general public.

No. 

Not yet.

You still had something to do. Just one thing left.

If someone were to make it out alive from this mess, it had to be Adler.

After all, you had a job to do.

Brows knit and vision filled with red, you grasped the handle of the knife protruding from your stomach. You grinded your molars together, taking a sharp intake of breath as you proceeded to pull it out. 

Pain erupted without hesitation, and it took everything within your mental capacity to keep awake. It was a horrid feeling, and you whimpered with every miniscule movement. You could feel the metal lifting out, and blood began to splurt, staining your shirt. It hurt. Everything did. Death seemed like a great option.

Your mind was warning you, demanding you to stop. You wanted to, but you refused to yield. 

If you were going to die, then so be it. You'll even take Death's damn hand if it means that Stitch would be coming along with you. 

You held back a cry as the knife came free. It glistened underneath the neon lights of the arcade, stained with your own fresh blood. You took short, little breaths in an attempt to lessen the pain, only to no avail.

With a trembling hand, you flip the blade around, holding it from the tip. It was warm. You couldn't even see your own skin underneath the mass of blood that caked your fingers. Just how much did you lose for the sake of this man? 

Not that it mattered. If Adler trusted his life to you, then you'll do whatever it takes to make sure he lived to see another day. 

Pulling your arm back, your fingertips pressed against the metal as you readied yourself.

Mustering all remaining strength, you swing full force, chucking the weapon towards the duo's direction. 

It cut through the air without a second thought, going into a nice arch.

You could see Stitch look up during the final moments as the knife struck him, embedding itself right in the middle of his forehead.

He didn't make a noise as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. 

Time seemed to slow down as you watched the Russian fall onto his back, not even groaning as he collapsed.

It's over.

You let out a difficult exhale after holding your breath for so long, and set your head back down, staring up at the ceiling. Your arms fall to the side, eagle spread.

The lights of the arcade machines flickered and bounced around without a care in the world. Beeping and 16-bit noises played along in an attempt to veil the sounds of warfare just outside the doorway. There was a soothing vaporwave-like rhythm, luring you into a sense of numbness and peace.

The purplish blue was a nice shade, and it made you drowsy. A wave of tranquility washed over you as you watched the light show, and with each blink you took, your eyelids felt heavier and heavier. Sleep was calling out to you.

How many near-death experiences did you have? Trabzon Airport, Cuba, Solovetsky, the cliffside… The list went on.

Adler heaved violently nearby, using the back of his hand to wipe away the crimson that ran down his nose. The effort was useless, as more of it continued to streak downward over his lips and chin. It had taken a moment for him to register that Stitch ceased all movement, lying uselessly with arms splayed out. Horror-struck, his expression held itself frozen as his own knife stuck out from his forehead.

Bell.

Adler’s arms shook as he held himself up into a crawling position. He saw you lying there with a pool of red that was about to expand underneath you. He pushes himself to you with his elbows, holding out a hand to you. “[L/N]!” his voice quivers.

He was calling you. 

Turning your head, you see Adler struggle to make his way over to you. You manage a shaky smile as he enters your view.

“Is that you, Russ?” you gurgle weakly, squinting trying to focus. The metallic taste in your mouth only seemed to strengthen, lathering your taste buds.

“Don’t talk!” His eyes darted from place to place trying to figure out where he should prioritize first aid, but his thoughts were racing and he couldn't concentrate, head rolling from the thorough beating Stitch had given him. "Shit, I–"

“Ah, it is." You gave him a soft smile. Albeit your altered vision, Adler's face managed to detail itself. The hat he had on previously lied on the floor a couple paces away, his hair instead ruffled and a mess. "I couldn’t recognize you. Stitch really did a number on you… And me."

The mere sight of you made Adler's stomach drop. A mix of black and red resided where your left eye should have been, covered with soiled bandages that felt like it didn't do much to help. You had several bruises as well, cuts decorating your skin. Old scars that you had were now covered with new wounds. Your shirt had dark stains on it as it clung to your body. 

Adler's hands went towards your stomach, applying pressure and you winced underneath him. “You’re going to be okay Bell."

You try to laugh at his attempt to comfort you, only to choke up some blood. "C'mon, be truthful. How do I look?"

He couldn't respond, and with one hand he reached behind, shoving his hands forcibly underneath the covers of his satchel, trying to look for any medical supplies.

"I told Vikhor that… if he even touched you.. I'd kill him." Your eyes lingered on his. "C'mon don't make that face. Aren't you proud of me?"

He looked pitiful. Adler was biting the insides of his cheeks, just trying to keep himself together amongst this hell hole he was thrown into. But he couldn't hide it. He wasn't fucking proud— he was broken. Whether it was the mere image of your mutilated body, or the thought that you practically sacrificed yourself for him, he knew that he was the reason you did the shit you just did.

Adler didn't ask you to do it. So why, why, why, did you commit to such a selfless act? That valor he admired now became the reason for your recklessness and gave you reason to act so blindly. Why were you so fucking loyal? A month without your presence nearby and the first thing he sees upon contact was you bleeding out in front of him. It was like God, or whatever higher being up there, was testing his integrity of how much shit he can take before breaking.

The instant he felt his fingers rub against something inside his pack, he pulled the object out. 

A flare.

No. No. Nonono—

Where was his medkit?

You placed a hand on his cheek, wiping away a tear that escaped the corner of his eye. The gesture stings as he feels your finger brush against his puffed and bruised skin. He sees you shake your head slightly at the effort of his search for treatment, and his own heart just drops. 

Stop.

Don't look at me like that. Why are you shaking your head?

"You need to leave me."

Don't say that! he yells internally. Adler feels his chest constrict at the thought he conjured up.

He gives out a shaky breath as he places his own hand over yours, ignoring the blood smearing against his scar. "Bell, I'm not going to leave you," he says slowly, trying to control his emotions. "We're getting out together."

"'Crying doesn't suit you',” you reiterate to him, but at that point you couldn't even interpret his own face out. Your eyes were half lidded, beginning to lose its shine as they trailed away from his face to focus on something above him. Terrified, Adler cups your cheek and makes you look back at him.

"Stay with me, [L/N]."

"I think… I need a rain check on that date of ours."

This wasn't happening.

Fuck, fuck!

“Of course. I'll take you wherever you want. Just… Just stay awake until we get to the hospital?” Adler clammers, clutching your hand tighter. "Can you do that for me?"

"Yeah. I'll try."

"You can sleep when we get th—"

"Mhm..."

No.

"Bell?"

Your eyes were closed, and despite everything you must have gone through, you gave off a serene expression, the corners of your mouth upturned slightly. 

Adler feels your hand become heavy, losing its strength. He wasn't ready for this.

"Bell?" his voice cracks. "No, you can't— You can't fucking die on me Bell!"

He expected you to flinch at his tone, like you used to, but didn't budge. His heart dropped, desperation clawing at him. If there was one thing he feared the most, it was this. 

What the fuck am I doing?

"Come on, c'mon…"

Adler swears profusely as he unbuckles his equipment in a rush, letting the orange scarf around his neck free. He rips it off and bundles it, pressing the mass against your stomach. You didn't even grimace. The bright orange turned dark as it absorbed whatever substance it could.

"Ossou!" Adler screams into his earpiece. "Where's the fucking medic?!"

They had to get you out. Away from the mall, into the hospital. They'll treat you there. You can get a blood transfusion. Fucking take his own blood if they had to— just ANYTHING to keep you alive.

There was still time...

Right?

[ohheyitsokay]

safe

part 9 of the ‘hey batter batter’ series

pairing: Francisco (Frankie, Catfish) Morales x reader

wordcount: 2.3k

warnings: none, lots of kissing 

summary: it’s a Triple Frontier baseball AU! Trust me, you don’t need to know anything about baseball.

In this chapter, you discover how truly committed you are to a man you’ve only been on one real date with.

notes: just a head’s up, next week will be the last chapter of this series! I’ll give a proper thank-you then, but I also have a couple (at least three) one-shots in the universe because I... want to. hope that’s okay!

<<

When you were younger and you attended the baseball games under the summer heat with James, you spent more time watching the people in the crowd than the players. Vague knowledge of the rules and even your grandfather’s enthusiasm weren’t nearly enough to keep you interested during the long stretches of advertisements. Now, the moments when Santi was getting strike after strike were exhilarating instead of boring and you grinned with pride, like it was personal each time the ball found it’s home in Frankie’s glove.

This season had been a whirlwind as you began to appreciate the game because of the players, and you didn’t think you had any more room for excitement.

That was, until Francisco’s mother decided she wanted to attend with you and James.

The sweet catcher hadn’t even had time to apologize and offer an alternative before your grandfather stepped in, and the rest was history. You didn’t mind, of course you didn’t, how could you? It was strange, spending time with her so early in the relationship but it made you happy that she was so excited about you. The two of them hung on your elbows, and you laughed at how awkward it made walking through the narrow gap to your seats.

From somewhere in her bag, she produced an entire tupperware of homemade pan dulce, sugar filling the grooves on the bottom, and you settled in. You were fairly sure that wasn’t allowed but you were helpless against her sweet, determined face so it only made sense security would be too.

It wasn’t work, talking to her, she felt like an auntie or a friend’s friend – someone you half already knew, and who certainly knew you. She filled the silence with stories and questions and only heard the first half of your answer before excitedly pointing at her son and his friends on the field. It felt like you were at a kids baseball game, how she clicked her tongue and freely gave them advice as if they could hear her.

At some point, Will stole second base and her and James began a conversation around you. She called them niños and matched your grandfather in her personalized affection for them. You wondered if you should feel guilty for your lingering eyes on the son of the woman next to you, but she half encouraged it, telling you he got his legs from his padre.

When the opposing team was up a point, she muttered pobrecitos and grabbed your hand and prayed for Benny’s next hit.

You caught pieces of Frankie, in her. Or more accurately, you realized what parts of her he had grown into, and learned about his younger self from her eyes and her tone and her smile. Your poor grandfather was probably exhausted but you drank it in.

“Francisco was saving all his money from his work for the neighbors – his team was taking him to watch a game at this very stadium!” Without even looking she handed you a pastry, shaking sugar onto your lap until you took it. “But then his escuela collected donations for the orphanage. I told him, you know? I told him if he gave all his money I couldn’t help him, he wouldn’t get anything from the stadium.”

Her eyes were warm in yours and she squeezed your arm, trying to communicate her pride. “Mi frijol gave it all! And he did not even complain, not even once!” You smiled at her, trying to answer however you could that you understood. Maybe not completely but you saw how much he cared about other people, how hard he tried.

Around the eighth inning, she quieted, smiling gratefully when you produced an extra water bottle. Her hand was soft and maternal as it rubbed your shoulder, a foreign but pleasant feeling.

“His hermana tests him all the time,” she murmured, and you nodded cautiously. When she resolutely added, “You give him strength, hija,” you almost cried right there in the stands.

You settled for covering her hand with yours and squeezing back.

When they won, no one cheered louder, no one was prouder, but you and James gave it your best shot.

-

“So,” Frankie looked at you, his big brown eyes full of questions. Alone, you couldn’t resist him, much more when the rest of them matched his gaze.

You were all at Tom’s rental, unexpectedly. He didn’t tell anyone, but he had burst into Molly’s office, only to find it empty. It had bothered him, and when he was bothered, he took extra effort to pretend that he was not. The new opportunity to spend post-game evenings with decks of cards and childish snacks had already become the highlight to his friends, so he figured he could do that. Just a little bigger, a little better. And it’s not like any of you had enough information to say no.

The elders had long since gone home, and now they all wanted to know what secrets his mother had spilled about them.

You laughed at their faces, feeling a little devious with the power. Before giving anything up, you stuck your tongue out at Santi and meandered to the kitchen, feeling them watch you as your filled your champagne flute with apple juice.

“She didn’t say anything,” you said with exaggerated elegance, lounging against an unnecessary column.

The act broke when you had to dodge a pillow.

“Okay, okay,” you held up your free hand in surrender. You looked at your catcher with a wink before grinning almost maliciously at Santiago. “She told me she had to bring Santi socks twice last season, and one time she saw Benny eat a hot dog off the ground.”

They erupted in teasing and you waited for it to quiet a moment before you added, “And she shared that Tom,” you drew out his name for extra emphasis, “Goes to the same hairdresser as her, and she once threatened to dye Will’s pants pink for calling her ma’am one too many times.” The men were howling with laughter like they hadn’t since college, shoving each other and half tackling one another, shouting their defenses and stories alike.

When Frankie extracted himself he found you curled on the armrest of the couch, watching with amusement. His hair was messed up and his eyes crinkled in the corners. “What did she say about me?” he asked under the noise and he settled next to you, trying to be confidant as he wrapped his arm around you shoulders.

He liked that he could feel your shrug.

“That you’re practically perfect in every way,” you relaxed into him and it felt so natural he could hardly imagine it wasn’t always like this.

-

Francisco was spending his day off with his family, doing some projects around the home, but so it surprised you when your phone rang.

It surprised you even more that it was Benny, inviting you to lunch. Just to talk, I’m not being weird, he said, backpedaling when you teased him about being a little late to ask you on a date. Is that okay? He seemed just a little bit nervous, which made you laugh. Of course, you were more than happy to.

The longer you knew him, the more you understood why they all treated him like a little brother.

He was already at the restaurant – Thai food, his choice – as friendly and kind as the first time you had met him. Unlike then, you weren't even a little bit nervous sitting across from him, despite the glares of the women at an adjacent talking the two of you were still new friends, so it wasn’t quite effortless, by the made up for it with his genuine enthusiasm.

If he had something on his mind, he didn’t get to it right away, the first half of your lunch hour spent talking about you. For how loud his personality seemed sometimes, he was well spike and well mannered, and curious about almost everything. You checked the time, before finally asking if everything was okay with him, and the shortstop ran his fingers through his hair, looking past away.

His foot tapped on the rug, and you used your chopsticks to push your remaining food into a small mound in the middle of your plate.

“I’m paying, by the way,” you looked up, back into his eyes, your own eyebrows drawing together to shake your head.

“I owe you,” he defended himself before you could voice your dissent, and when he added, “for looking out for me,” you softened.

“Relationships aren’t transactional, Benjamin.” It was a gentle scold, true, but relenting.

Broad shoulders shrugged.

“Think of it as a thank you,” he said, and you let him talk. For all that his brother and the guys worried over him, he wasn’t as young and naïve as they thought of him. His eyes and ears were sharp and it’s not like he hadn’t heard the stories, seen what they were protecting him from.

“You help us look after each other,” it was almost like he rehearsed it, and his blue eyes confirmed he had been meaning to say this to you for awhile.

“And you look after me.” That nervousness from before came back, and you wondered if he still hadn’t quite gotten to the part he was meaning to say. Ben launched into a story in between flagging down the waiter and you let him pay, but even when the receipt came, he didn’t stand.

The story stuttered to a halt and you rested your chin in your palm.

“Will and Frankie have been talking about Tom – saying he’s been off.” It was abrupt, and you waited. He was restless, his habit of changing the topic becoming even more prominent. Both of you knew what he meant.

It was messy, hard, existing with them.

“Would you… will you stay?”

There was a burst of warmth in your chest, a wave of affection as if he confessed outright how much you mattered to them.

You stood, smiling and offering your hand, as if he needed help standing.

“Yeah, Ben, what are friends for?”

He looked so relieved that you hugged him. Although, you suspected he would’ve hugged you regardless, if you had given him a moment.

-

After work you had a voicemail and a text from your… from Francisco, and you drove over to his place. Walking up the stairs in the cooling evening air felt strange, like it was humming with potential.

He greeted you with slow kisses, his rough hands wandering your skin and clothes like he was still grasping that you were real. If you could’ve thought, you might’ve wondered why he called you over or looked around his apartment but it didn’t matter because all you could think of what him. The gentle scrape of the hairs on his face over your cheek, your neck, the needy pull of his fingers as he curled his fists into your outer layer.

His mouth, moving in ways you’d thought you’d never quite felt before, leaving you breathless.

It didn’t escalate, neither of you pushing for more, but when he finally moved away, he was pulling you onto the couch and under his arm.

“Hi,” he said, looking flushed and happy, despite the flash of anxiety in his eyes.

“Hi,” you figured you mirrored him, and you let out a rough cough of laughter.

Francisco joined, and your head found a rest on his shoulder, cheek squishing from the closeness. The tips of his fingers wandered over your skin, and it felt like a habit years in the making, to catch up with him about his day, his family. A stretch of silence followed, and your realized he was tired.

“I should probably make you dinner or something,” he whispered, almost to himself, dark eyebrows drawing together. Suddenly you felt shy, aching because you should’ve brought something, should cook or… he was the one who had a long day, but this was his home.

You had memorized the feeling of his hairs on your waist, and yet you didn’t know if he would be okay with you cooking in his home. Actually, you didn’t even know anything about his home.

Looking around, you compromised.

“I’m good, Frankie, I had a big lunch,” taking in the simple furniture and quickly cleaned surfaces, you didn’t notice his head tilt, shoulders rising slightly with tension until you looked back at him. The sweet man had realized he hadn’t heard about that part of your day yet but he didn’t want to pry.

“Benny got me thai food,” you offered, which only increased his distress. Your hand slipped into his as you explained.

“I think he’s just scared I’m not going to stick around,” you sighed, hoping he felt like that was as unlike as you did.

Against your head, you felt him nod, but he didn’t say anything for a moment.

“He’s right, though,” his voice seemed higher, as shy as you’d been a moment ago. “Things with us, with me are… a lot.”

As he always did, he was asking you more than you said, and you wanted to honor it so you though, really thought about what you were getting yourself into.

“Frankie, you told me you wanted me to be a part of your life,” you kissed the corner of his mouth, which pulled as he smiled hopefully. “I want that too, if you’ll be part of mine.”

A little rougher than they’d been before his hands tugged you into him, a solid kiss. No questions were buried in the touch, and it made you feel like you were floating.

Long moments later, you laughed a little, too warm to feel shy.

“Does this make me your novia?”

You weren't sure if the color on his cheeks was warming because of embarrassment that you caught the word in his mother’s talk, or because he hadn’t actually asked yet.

“Yeah,” a final kiss, on your forehead sealed the deal.

And when you moved away, it was to explore his kitchen for something to cook for the both of you.

<<

translations:

pan dulce: pastries

niños: boys

padre: father

pobrecitos: poor babies

escuela: school

mi frijol: my bean

hermana: sister

>>

hija: daughter

novia: girlfriend

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge

hey batter batter taglist:

@icanbeyourjedi @studyofawearymind @hnt-escape @athalien @the-witty-pen-name @daffodin @sarahjkl82-blog @pintsizemama @anaaaispunk @pjkimrn @dobbyjen @stuckontheceiling

edit: take 3 having tumblr save the taglist on this thing

[anagentinwriting]

Lifeline - Part 14

Summary: (First Responders!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relationship that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Will this be the fresh start you were hoping for or will your past find a way to catch up with you?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Odinson!Sister Reader

Word Count: 6900+

Warnings:  Angst, fluff, mention of cliffs, swearing, drinking

Lifeline Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Happy’s Hydrant wasn’t too packed tonight, but once the next round of first responders clock out, they will come in looking for a stiff drink. You sat in your usual spot with a drink in hand, waiting for your favorite fire squad to finish their shift. It’s been a long two weeks with you taking on extra shifts while covering your own, making it tough to see your friends. Although you did have a chance to talk with Bruce about getting set up with one of the call center therapists,  and that’s how you met Dr. Wendy Lawson at Project Pegasus. 

At first, it was tough, you didn’t know what to expect, and it felt like a weird first date. You wanted to be open and honest, but it’s hard to get comfortable and share your problems with a stranger, but Dr. Lawson surprised you. She was very open and honest with you about how she wanted to help you as long as you were willing to try, and with Steve’s encouraging words, you felt like it didn’t hurt to give it a shot. 

Your phone vibrating on the table brought you back to the present. You glanced down at the screen, smirking when you saw Steve’s face.

Steve: We are heading out now. Sam had a rough last call, but Bucky convinced him to come out for a few. Be there soon :)

YN: Poor Sam. I’ll be here!

The one person you stayed in contact with these last two crazy weeks was Steve. You talked to him at least once a day on the phone, only ever exchanging good morning texts. It felt outdated to talk on the phone, but you liked listening to him talk, and his laugh never failed to bring a smile to your face. You could talk to Steve about anything and everything, and it was so easy and fun. With Billy, it always felt like a second job, but with no benefits and one wrong move would get you fired. 

A cold shiver ran up your spine, sparking you to sit up straighter. It sends a tingle to your hands, causing them to fidget with your drink in front of you. You gulped, taking a quick glance over your shoulder, but didn’t see anyone you recognized. You shake your head, running your hand down your face. You let out a deep breath, tracing the stained circled rings on the wooden bar. If Billy was going to find you, wouldn’t he have done it already?

Your eyes snapped to the front door creaking open and sighed in relief, seeing your brother's big frame walking through the door followed by Steve, Sam, and Bucky. Bucky’s arm was wrapped around Sam's shoulders, almost as if he was pulling him into the bar, and Sam had the most annoyed look on his face. 

You hopped off your seat as the guys made their way over to you. When Sam got closer, you pulled him into a big hug. He hesitated at first, then loosely wrapped his arms around you. “Come on, Wilson. I don’t hug just anybody.”

He wrapped his arms tighter around you. “This is new for you.” You didn’t need to see him to know he was smiling. 

“New beginning.”

“So I’ve heard, I’m proud of you, girl.” Sam squeezed you tighter, letting a laugh escape you, and he chuckled, swaying you back and forth.  Steve caught your eye, winking at you with his signature smirk on his face, and you couldn’t help but return the smile.

“Thanks, Sam. How you doing?” You pulled Sam at arm's length, seeing a slight sadness in his eyes.

“It’s tough, but I’ll get through it,” Sam nodded with a half shrug. “We all have our own ways of coping.” You shot him a warm smile, returning to your stool at the bar. 

“How was your shift, fellas?” Happy interrupted, handing out coasters. Sam grunted to himself, taking one of the stools beside you while Steve took the other one.  

“Get this man anything he wants. It’s on me,” Bucky replied, patting Sam on the back. 

“The usuals?” Happy asked, earning a nod from everyone. 

“This doesn’t mean I like you,” Sam added with a side-eye.

“Wouldn’t expect anything less. Besides, I hate you too much not to let anything get in the way of that.”

“Good.”

“Where did Val and Carol run off to?” You asked, trying to get off the hard topic. 

“Oh, they had some other things to attend to,” Thor answered, taking the seat on the other corner by Steve.

“I’m sure they did,” you smirked, eyeing your drink.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve inquired, nudging his knee playfully into yours under the counter. 

“Nothing.” You take a sip of your drink, peeking over at Steve out of the corner of your eye. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“You’re lying.” Thor pointed a finger at you, and you locked your mouth with an invisible key and threw it over your shoulder. 

“What you’re saying is you have gossip, and you’re not even going to tell us? I mean, the least you could do is tell me -- It might make me feel better,” Sam whined, leaning in closer to you. 

“Fine,” you sighed, then covered his ear and whispered, “I would tell you, but then I’d have to kill you, or at least Carol or Val would.”

“Oh my god, guys. It’s so crazy,” Sam smiled, showing off his gap-toothed smile before taking a sip of his beer. “Thanks, YN. I’m already feeling better.”

“I’m hurt, too,” Bucky stated, leaning into your view. You rolled your eyes, and Sam nudged you in the shoulder, shaking his head no.

________________

The bar continued to fill up with first responders getting off their shifts and your brother snuck off to make his rounds around the bar. It still baffled you how he could do that, but then again, he has always been the friendly brother. The rest of you stepped away from the bar and took a spot at one of the tall tables near the pool tables. Steve, Sam, and Bucky were bickering about who was going to play the first game, and you took a seat on the high stools. 

Steve plopped down on the stool across from yours, feeling his knees hit your legs. “Guess I am playing winner?”

“Makes sense because you are sooo good,” you scoffed with sarcasm dripping in your voice. 

“What! I’m a great player.”

“Never beat me.” You took a sip of your drink, raising your eyebrows up your forehead. 

“You wanna go another round?” Steve leaned forward, tilting his head at the other opened pool table.

“No, I just sat down.” You leaned back, resting your back against the backrest as Steve let out a soft chuckle. 

You watched Bucky break the rack, causing another shiver to run up your spine. You looked away, chewing on your lip, rubbing your hands over your upper arms. 

“You cold?” Steve asked from across the table, placing an open hand for you on the table.

“No, I’m just feeling a bit off tonight.” You shrugged, staring down at his hand before placing one of your hands in his.

“Is everything alright? How’s everything with Dr. Lawson?” Steve leaned in closer, running his thumb over your knuckles.

“Things are great with her. I don’t know…it’s like lately…I get this weird feeling someone is watching me, and this chill runs through me.” You shrugged, rubbing your lips together and staring down at your joined hands. 

“Have you talked with her about it?”

“Not yet.” You bite your bottom lip and look up, meeting his eye. “I have only met with her a few times, and I don’t know…it’s a hard topic to bring up.” 

“I get it,” Steve breathed, keeping his eyes on you. “Everything you don’t want to talk about is hard to talk about, but the more open you are with her, the more she will know how to help you.” You nodded. “You can tell me anything, and I can tell you everything is going to be alright, but she will help you get to the root of the problem instead of tackling the branches.”

You nodded with a slight smirk. “You are full of metaphors, aren’t you?”

“Only when I am coming up with speeches off the top of my head,” he smiled, squeezing your hand once more before letting it go.

“Dude, you’re cheating,” Bucky shouted, pointing at Sam moving the white ball to a better access point.

“I’m in pain.”

“How long are you going to use that line?”

“All night,” Sam answered, taking a sip of his beer. “Because I can.” Bucky shook his head and rolled his eyes as he lined up to take a shot.

“This is going to go on all night.” Steve shook his head at the two men, running a hand through his hair. 

“But it wouldn’t feel right if they didn’t,” you chuckled, staring at them. 

“Got that right.” Steve nodded, clearing his throat. Your eyes connected with his, and noticed a small bead of sweat on his brow. “Hey, I ah…I have been meaning to ask you if you wanted to go out and maybe do something tomorrow night?”

You smirked at the nervousness in his voice. “What did you have in mind?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, well, wear something comfortable because it is going to be a very active date.”

“Oh…one of those dates, huh? Didn’t think clothes were necessary.” You smiled, biting your lip, not missing the rush of color appearing on his face.

“Maybe another time for that,” he winked. “You don’t have to work the next day, do you?”

“No, why is it going to be an all-night activity?” You wiggled your eyebrows. “You’re digging yourself deeper into a hole, Steve.”

“You know what, forget it.” Steve shook his head, leaning against the backrest of his stool. He crossed his arms across his chest, failing to keep his smile at bay. 

“No, no, no. Okay, okay, something comfy. Got it.” You nodded, and Steve let out a soft chuckle, causing his shoulders to shake.

_____________

Steve watched you give Sam a long goodbye hug, sharing words only the two of you could hear. Steve walked over, and you wrapped your arms around his waist, and he pulled you in close over your shoulders. He kissed your forehead, and as you pulled away, you placed a quick kiss on his cheek. As Steve watched you walk away, he felt a pat on his shoulder and looked over to see Thor giving him a thoughtful smile. It wasn’t long after you left that Bucky and Thor soon followed, leaving Sam and him deciding whether to play another game of pool or not.

“How about one more game, then I got to head out?” Sam offered, realizing they were the last two remaining.

“Rack’em.”

Steve put the balls in the rack and set up the triangle on one end of the billiards table. He stepped back, bumping into someone. “Oh, crap--” Steve took a step forward and turned around “--I’m sorry, man. Didn’t think anyone was behind me.”

“It’s alright. I can be pretty stealthy.” The guy looked at Steve and narrowed his eyes. “Wait, aren’t you Steve? I met you at the first responder's grill out a few weeks ago, right?”

“Oh yeah, that’s right.” Steve’s eyes lit up, remembering the good-looking guy with a beard. “It was Jig, right?” He nodded. “This is Sam Wilson; he also works at Station 107.”

Jig reached over and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Where do you work at?”

“Started at the Northeast LA Police Department a couple of months ago.”

“Oh, the Northeast--” Sam raised his eyebrows. “--my friend Riley works up there.”

“Yeah, he’s on leave because his wife had a son.”

“That’s right, I forgot about that.” Sam clapped his hands together. “I have been meaning to send him a card. Well, he’s a great guy if you need someone to get beers with.”

“I’ll keep that in mind; he might need a few nights out when he gets back.”

“He might,” Sam chuckled, glancing down at his phone. “Actually, you know what, Jig could you take my spot?” He offered him the pool Q, and Jig took it. “It was nice meeting you. I’m glad Stevie is getting out there and making more friends besides us at the station.” Sam patted Steve on the back, pulling on his jacket.

“Have a good one, Sam.” Steve waved, shaking his head. 

“He seems like a good guy,” Jig added, pointing at Sam over his shoulder as he walked out the door.

“Great guy, but he beats himself up a lot when something goes wrong on a call. Like one did today, but I think he is feeling better now.”

“That’s rough.”

“It’s hard--” Steve nodded, leaning on the pool Q “--but I am sure you have had similar experiences.”

“For sure,” Jig nodded. “Is it your turn, or are we going to rerack it?”

“Rerack it.”

The game was turning out to be a heated match. Jig had two stripes left, and Steve had one solid. Jig lined up for a shot, and Steve noticed a certain ring on his hand.

“Wait...are you married?” Steve asked, pointing to his own ring finger on his left hand.

Jig smirked, taking the shot, but missed his striped ball completely. “Yeah, but we are going through a little bit of a rough patch. Um…we are separated right now, but I can’t really give up on her just yet,” he breathed with a half shrug. “My wife never liked me being a police officer, and how I put myself in danger every time I am on duty.” He wrapped his hands around the pool Q, leaning against it. “She always wanted a family, but she doesn’t want to do it alone if something happens, you know.” 

“It’s normal for a loved one to feel like that in our line of work.” Steve nodded, lining up his shot. He takes the shot and sinks the ball in the left corner pocket. “No one knows what will happen on the job.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“Eightball, center pocket,” Steve stated, setting up his shot. He hit the white ball, which hit the number eight ball but missed the pocket by an inch. “Awww, man.”

“So close,” Jig chuckled.” What about you, Steve? You got anyone special?”

Steve leaned against his pool cue, and a smile hit his face. “Sort of... well… I don’t really know what to call it, but we hang out a lot. I mean, we haven’t put a label on it yet. We both have been through a lot these last couple of years, so we aren’t rushing anything.”

“Seems like your falling hard for…”

“YN,” he smiled at the ground, feeling a slight blush rush to his cheeks. “She is a 911 dispatcher, and I actually lost my dispatcher cherry to her.”

“Dispatcher cherry?”

“It’s when a fireman talks to a dispatcher on the scene for the first time.”

“That’s a thing?”

“Thank you.” Steve pointed at him, nodding his head. “I didn’t know it was a thing either, but I’m glad I’m not the only one.”

Jig chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s crazy how you both are kind of in the same area of work. What’s she like?” Jig leaned down to take his shot. 

“She’s amazing. We have so much fun when we hang out, and we never run out of things to talk about.”

“Wow…and here I was thinking it was just a fling.”

“I assume you would know something about that,” Steve chuckled, gesturing his hands at him.

“Yeah, you’re not the first one to notice. My friends often called me The Beaut of our group. And yes, I’ve had my fair share before my wife came along and put me in my place,” he chuckled, hitting the white ball, and it went right past his striped ball. 

“Ouch! Thought you had that one.”

“Me too!” He sighed, shaking his head. “But, she does sound pretty special.”

“She is, and it’s even crazier that I work with her brother, Thor,” Steve stated, moving into position to take his next shot.

“I should warn you; sometimes, it’s the siblings that ruin your relationship.”

“How so?” Steve asked, narrowing his eyes at him. 

“When I met my wife’s brothers for the first time. The one, Lance, --” he rolled his eyes “--from the start hated my guts, and I didn’t even do anything to him. He didn’t even give me a chance. And then her other brother, Tim, well, we got along at first, but now he doesn’t say much to me. I think it might be one of the reasons she left me.”

“Man, that’s rough. I’m sorry. Can’t you call and try to talk with her?”

“Not if she doesn’t answer her phone.”

“Well, if you need me to, I can put in a good word for you. From what I can tell, you seem like a pretty good guy.”

“Thanks, I might have to take you up on that,” he said, nodding his head.

“Right corner pocket,” Steve called as he sunk the ball in the pocket he called. “Yes!” 

“You’re one hell of a billiards player, Steve.”

“Yeah, I know,” Steve nodded. “Another game?”

“Rack’em.”

____________

You swung back and forth in your swivel chair, trying to figure out what Steve had planned for tonight. Something comfy and easy to move in? Dancing, but you didn’t peg him for a dancer. Were we going hiking or playing some sort of sport? What did that man have planned? You leaned forward in your chair as a call came in.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“The cliff…it collapsed...and my...my...,”  a female voice stuttered.

“Ma’am, where are you?”

“On the Abalone Cove Trail.” 

“I am sending the closest unit your way.” 

“Do you know if anyone went over?”

“My cameraman Gary. He was figuring out the best shot and the cliff just gave out.”

“Okay, just please stay on the line with me.” You radioed into Station 127. “Captain Quill, we have a cliff collapse rescue, prepare for a possible aerial recon. One known victim and he goes by Gary.”

“Gary. Copy that dispatch. The 127th in route, Quill out.” 

“Okay, ma’am, my name is YN. What is yours?”

“Christine...Christine Everhart.” 

“Okay, Christine, units are on their way, and I need you to stay where you are. Don’t try to look over the edge to see if you can see him. Just stay put. We want to keep you safe, and as soon as units arrive, they will check on Gary.

“Okay..okay.” She breathed. “It just happened so fast, and he just...”

“I understand,” you consoled, nodding your head for your own reassurance.

“He didn’t even stand a chance. I don’t...I need to see if he is okay.”

“No, Christine, stay where you are. Responders are almost there.”

“Okay, I feel like I could be doing more.”

“You’re doing more by waiting for responders to get there. I know it’s hard, but it’s safer for you to wait because you don’t want the cliff to give out even more. Don’t worry. They're a few blocks away now. Stay calm Christine, and help will be there soon.”

“Yes, yes, okay. You’re right.” She took in a sharp breath as you heard sirens in the background. She let out a deep breath, and you could feel her visibly relax through the phone. “They're here. Thank you so much. Can I hang up now?”

“You’re welcome, and yes, you can hang up whenever you want to.”

“Okay, bye.” 

The soundwaves dropped into a straight line on one of the screens as the line went dead. It always reminded you of working in the ER, seeing a heart stop with the same straight line, a dull tone beeping on the monitor, and doing everything you could do to bring them back, but with a phone call, the only thing you could do was use your voice. 

You leaned back in your chair with your hand on top of your head and let out a deep breath. “Another day, another call.”

“Tough call?” Bruce asked, looking over at you from his station.

“No, pretty cut and dry.” You shrugged, crossing your arms across your chest.

“You sound bored, but that’s a good thing. It means you’re getting in the swing of things and like what you are doing now.”

“It would seem that way, wouldn’t it,” you smiled. 

“How are things going with Dr. Lawson?”

“It’s been going good. It takes a while to warm up to a stranger and reveal all your secrets to them, though.”

“Yeah, it’s tough, but once the trust is there. It gets easier.”

“That’s what I keep hearing. Thanks for recommending her, too.”

“No problem,” Bruce waved it off.

Your line ringing pulled you back to your station, giving a quick nod to Bruce as he stepped away.  “911, what’s your emergency?”

“Hi, so I have no internet?”

“And you think this is a problem 911 can solve?” You asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice. 

“Well yeah, don’t you help when there is an emergency?

“This isn’t one of those cases. Have you tried your cable company?” You breathed, rolling your eyes.

“Who?”

“Why don’t you pull out one of your bills, and call the number on there, and not call 911. It’s a good place to start to get your internet fixed.”

“Okay.”

“Good luck.” You click your space bar and hang up. You look over at Bruce and see him playing with his phone. “I hate non-emergency calls.”

“But, they are fun to talk about after.”

“This is true,” you chuckled, pointing at him. 

 ____________

Opening the front door, you rushed upstairs to shower and get ready. Steve was going to be here any minute, and you had little to no time to get ready.  Luis insisted on sharing this call he took, and like every story, he has to make sure to add in all the little details. You hopped in the shower, jumped back out, slipped on your robe, hearing the gate buzzing by the front door. “Perfect timing.” You clicked on the button to open the gate and grinned, seeing Cosmo tagging along.

Steve knocked on the front door, and you pulled it open. Steve was smirking at Cosmo, but his eyes moved to yours and then traveled down your robe. 

“Hey, sorry, I’m running a little behind.”

“It’s okay; I can wait. Cosmo is still good to chill out here while we go out, right?”

“Yes. I’ll just go finish getting ready. Make yourself at home.” You motioned around and started back up the stairs to get ready.  

You stared into your closet, biting your lip, trying to figure out what to put on. On the plus side, Steve was wearing basketball shorts and a t-shirt, so whatever it was didn’t involve the outdoors. You threw a few options on your bed, hearing a commotion coming up the steps.  

“COSMO! COSMO, GET BACK DOWN HERE,” Steve shouted in his dad voice. “She doesn’t want you staring at her while she is getting dressed.” 

Cosmo strolled into your bedroom and jumped on the bed, ignoring his dad’s commands. His tongue was hanging out, and what appeared to be a smile on his face. 

“It’s fine,” you called, smiling over at Cosmo. “Dad is just jealous he doesn’t get to see me naked first,” you baby talked Cosmo, scratching his head. You put your hands on your hips, staring down at the outfits in front of you. You sighed and threw together a comfy outfit. 

____________

“Steve, is the blindfold necessary? I could’ve just closed my eyes.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” He chuckled, taking your hand. It sent a fuzzy feeling to your head, and you couldn’t help the smile showing up on your face. You heard a door unlock and a creak when he pulled it open. “Watch your step; there is a slight incline.”

You took a careful step, and the smell of this place hit your nose. “It smells like a gym and dirty socks.”

He takes off your blindfold, and you’re met with a big neon sign shining The Trampoline Sanctum on the far wall. “A trampoline park? How’d you manage this?”

“Thor knows the guy who owns it. I think his name is Wong.”

“And he trusted you?”

“Well, he trusted Thor, who then trusts me, so it cancels out.” 

“Is that how that works?” You questioned, narrowing your eyes at him. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out a pair of colorful grippy socks. 

“Of course.” He shrugged with pursed lips. “So put these on, and let’s jump.” You took the socks from him, and he took off in a sprint down the short ramp and to the trampolines. 

“What a man child,” you chuckled, shaking your head at him.

You sit down on one of the benches and slip on the socks, glancing at Steve to see him bouncing around. He does a few somersaults and backflips in the air, and then he runs down the long trampoline and flips into the foam pit. 

You walked over to him, crawling out of the pit. “I would break something if I did that.”

“Try it; here I will show you.” He takes your hand and leads you to one of the wider trampolines. You stand off to the side when he starts bouncing. “You see, all you have to do is get enough air--” he breathed “-- and then flip,” he grunted, throwing himself back as he landed perfectly with a shallow bounce on the trampoline. “Easy.”

“Easy for you to say, Firefighter.”

“I’ll help you, come on,” he smirked, motioning for you to take the spot in front of him.

You hesitated, taking a step onto the trampoline across from Steve. He placed his hand lightly on your lower back, and you grabbed his hand and put it against your back. “I’m not fragile, Steve. I trust you.” He smirked, biting his bottom lip. “What do I have to do?”

Steve was a great teacher, explaining how to control your body and where to focus your weight. He helped you a couple of times, and by the seventh try, you could do it on your own. 

“Heck yes. I think it’s time to try out for the Olympics.” You held your hands up like a gymnast and walked over to Steve with a smile. “Thanks.”

“You did great!” He held up his hand, and you high-fived him. 

“Now what movement is next: bars, vault, floor. I'm ready for anything.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Let's try a back handspring and then land in the foam.”

“Can I get a visual?”

“Sure.” Steve took off in a jog on the long trampoline, flipping and then landing in the foam.

“I retire,” you said and walked away from him, making him chuckle. You smirked, turning back around and helping him out of the pit, but instead of pulling him out, he pulled you in. “AHH…Steve,” you laughed, “that's gonna bruise.” You both crawled over to the edge, and he pulled you out!

“Race you through the obstacle course.”

“You’re on.”

___________

Steve laid down right next to you on one of the trampolines where you were trying to catch your breath while Steve was already breathing normally. “How are you--” you heaved, clutching your stomach“--not breathing hard?”

“Genetics,” he joked, turning to face you as he rested his elbow against the mat with his head in his hand.

“What...did they make you in a bottle?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. 

“Nope, I am pretty sure my parents did it the old fashion way. You know, they…”

“Okay, okay, I don’t need to hear about it,” you interrupted him, pushing him on the shoulder. He chuckled, clutching his chest and falling onto his back before returning to his position. You turned your head to the side, seeing him gazing at you with his ever-famous smirk. “You scare me, Steve Rogers.”

His smirk quickly disappeared, glancing down at the trampoline then back at you. “Really? Why?”

“Because I tell you things I can’t even tell myself.” You looked up at the ceiling. “I get this fuzzy feeling in my stomach, and my heart speeds up whenever I’m around you. I don’t know whether I am nervous or excited or maybe both. You’re such a fun person to be around, and I don’t think I have smiled this much in such a long time. It’s almost like I don’t deserve you, but then maybe you are just what I need.” You bite your lip, peeking over at him. 

A small smile breaks across his face, and he glances down at your lips. He sits up on his elbow, staring down at you. A spark ignites up your spine, sending a warm chill to your skin. He cups your chin, his blue eyes flutter to yours, causing your heart to beat faster. 

“You’re all I need,” he breathed, licking his lips.  

His hand sends goosebumps to the back of your neck, feeling your face heat up. Your breathing grew heavier as your eyes drifted to his pink lips. Steve brushed his thumb against your cheek, compelling you to reconnect with his blue eyes. He leaned down, and your eyes fluttered close.

“Hey, are you Thor’s friend?” A man yelled out.

Steve’s head dropped onto your shoulder, letting out an annoyed sigh. You opened your eyes and couldn’t help but giggle at him. 

“YES!” He lifted his head enough to respond. He stood up, offering his hand to you, and you took it. He pulled you up fast, making you collide into his chest. He smiled down at you, taking your hand and walking over to the man. “You Wong?”

“I am.” Steve held out his hand, and Wong shook it.

“I’m Steve, and this is YN, Thor’s sister.”

“That’s right; I forgot he has a sister.” He offered his hand to you, and you shook it. “How are you two enjoying The Trampoline Sanctum?” Wong put a hand on his hip, motioning around with his other hand.

“It’s fun; the obstacle course is great,” Steve smiled at him.

He nodded. “Thank you. My partner wanted more wow factor, but we were able to compromise on a few things.”

“I think it’s great! You got a variety of different activities to do here, and……”

You zoned out, watching Steve out of the corner of your eye as he continued to talk about trampolines with Wong. You couldn’t help but feel in awe of Steve. He could strike up a conversation with anyone if he wanted to and made sure they felt appreciated. It might be a topic he doesn’t know anything about, but he was willing to listen to what they have to say and give his input. You squeezed his hand in yours, not missing the side of his mouth perk up while he talked with Wong. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I should let you two get back to it. It was nice to meet you two, but carry on, don’t let me interrupt.” He winked, walking away, and Steve shot you a closed-mouth smile.

You leaned into him, nudging your elbow into his side. “Are you sure you don’t want to continue this date with Wong instead of me? I mean, you two really hit it off.” You pointed to Steve and where Wong disappeared to.

“Why, you jealous?” He arched an eyebrow at you, sporting a teasing smile.

“I plead the Fifth.” 

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Should we get out of here?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I don’t feel like competing with Wong tonight.”

____________

You stepped up to the front door, pulling out your keys with Steve following behind with his hands in his pockets. Cosmo was on the other side of the door whining, and you could hear his dancing paws against the hardwood floor. You slid the key in, unlocking the door, and pushed it open. Cosmo greeted both of you and started spinning in frantic circles. 

“Hey, Cosmo. Did you miss us?” You leaned down to scratch his head as he rolled onto his back, and you rubbed his belly. Steve chuckled, closing the door behind him. “Who’s a good boy and kept the house clean? Cosmo is a good boy,” you praised in a baby voice.

“Hey Cosmo, are you ready to go back home? It’s way past your bedtime?” Steve asked, earning a bark from him. 

“I think that’s a no,” you added with a carefree smirk, standing up straight as Cosmo went to hide behind your legs and out of Steve’s view.

“I can still see you. You’re not hiding from me.”

You glanced behind you, seeing Cosmo staring up at you as if asking if you had his back. You bit your lip, shooting him a quick nod. “How about this…why don’t we take you on a quick walk before you leave? That is if your dad is okay with it?” You peeked over your shoulder, noticing Steve watching your interaction with a playful smile tugging at his lips.

“A late-night walk,” Steve paused, rubbing his lips together. “Would you like that, Cosmo?” Steve raised his eyebrows at the dog, and Cosmo took off to the other room but quickly returned with his leash in his mouth.

“Do you think he hid it on purpose?” You asked as Steve took the leash from him, shaking his head and latching it onto his collar. 

“At this point, I wouldn’t put it past him, but I think it’s a yes to a walk,” Steve chuckled with his hands on his hips.

It was the perfect night for a walk, not too cold and not too warm. You and Steve walked side by side with Cosmo trotting along in front of you. Steve’s hand brushed against yours, sending a spark up your arm and goosebumps to your skin. 

“Ahhh…late night walks. This brings back memories.” Steve nudged your side, making you peek up at him out of the corner of your eye. 

“And if those memories serve me right--” you glanced at him, seeing his signature smirk on his face  “--you still owe me an answer to a question.” 

“How do you remember that?” 

“Hard to forget a round of twenty questions with a cute guy, who walks you home late and lets me keep his jacket.”

If it wasn’t for the street light you passed, you would've missed the pink color appearing on Steve’s cheeks. He rubbed his lips together, nodding. “Okay, then, fire away. What’s your question?”

“Maybe another time.” Steve’s head snapped in your direction, narrowing his eyes at you, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his expression.

“I like hearing that sound,” Steve winked, shooting you a crinkled eye smile. 

“Oh my god, you’re such a flirt.” Your face heated up, playfully pushing him away from you, getting a laugh out of him. He leaned right back into you, taking your hand and lacing his fingers between yours.  He squeezed your hand, sending a warmth of comfort through you, making you crack a heartfelt smile. 

“Thor told me you’re making your mom’s cookies when the kids come for fire safety next week.”

“I am.” You nodded. “He talked me into it, but I am almost positive he is going to take them and hide them from everyone.” 

“I don’t think he could get away with that,” he scoffed. “We would all know it. Sam would be the first one to figure it out.”

“He loves those cookies!” You stopped at the crosswalk, waiting for the walking figure to light up. “Are you ready to be bombarded with little kid questions?”

“Heck yes,” he grinned, nodding his head. “I love answering their questions because they have no filter. Like, there was this one kid when I was with my Brooklyn unit. He came off kind of quiet and hung around in the back of the group. I was walking next to him, and he pulled on my pants to get my attention, so I leaned down. He held his hand over my ear so the other kids wouldn’t hear and asked: 'Does being a firefighter get girls to like you?'"

“Awww…What was your response?” 

“I told him it helps, but it is better to be a good man and treat girls with respect.”

“So proper of you.”

“Hey, I was being honest with him. It’s how I got you, isn’t it,” he winked, forcing you to roll your eyes. The walking guy lit up on the stoplight, and the three of you crossed the street. 

“As awesome as some kids are, beware of the teachers,” you added, squeezing his hand. 

“Yeah, I’ve heard some stories. According to some of the guys, this is Thor’s favorite time of the year.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “That doesn’t surprise me at all. Remind me I should set him up with one of my coworkers. He needs a nice girl; not a one-nighter girl.”

“I’ll remind you, but I hope you don’t get jealous if they flirt with me.”

“Jealous, oh please--” you waved it off “--I think you are kind of stuck with me,” you winked at him, squeezing his hand. 

“Yeah, I think I am.”

You two strolled through the streets talking, laughing, and joking with one another. Steve looked down at his watch, realizing it was well past midnight, and you two were walking around for at least two hours. It’s a good thing Cosmo was being such a trooper. Walking up to your front door, you unlocked it, and Cosmo was right next to you, waiting to go inside.

“No, Cosmo. We are going; we are bidding YN a goodnight, then we’re leaving.” Cosmo let out a huff and sat down between you and Steve.

You cracked a smile at them. “He is gonna sleep good tonight.”

“Well, he is the one that wanted to go on a walk,” Steve smiled down at his dog, who was avoiding all eye contact with him. 

You licked your lips, rubbing them together. “I had fun tonight, Steve.”

“Good. I wanted to do something a little out of the box, so I’m glad you had fun.” You chuckled softly, fidgeting with your hands, peeking back up at Steve. He clenched his jaw, almost like he was having a battle inside his head. “Have a good night, YN.” He takes a step towards you and wraps you into a hug. You close your eyes, letting out a sigh, and wrap your arms around him to hug him back. He squeezed you close, and you swallowed back your disappointment as you both pulled away from each other. 

“Goodnight, Steve.” You shot him a tight smile, looking down at Cosmo. 

“Alrighty, Cosmo. Let’s go.” Steve took a step down the short stairs but stopped when he realized Cosmo was refusing to go. He glanced at you with his tongue hanging out and then looked over at Steve, letting out a frustrated huff. “Don’t give me that look.” Steve grimaced, shaking his head. “What is it boy?” The dog barked and whined in response. “You know I can’t understand you when you’re shouting.” 

The dog glanced between you and Steve once more and then laid down. “Cosmo, we don’t have time for this. YN wants to get to sleep, and it’s way past your bedtime. You’re just overtired…I think.” Cosmo huffed, forcing Steve to scoff, placing his hands on his hips. 

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing at the cute exchange.  It was like a dad trying to figure out what his son wants to do. “I think I might have an idea that could help.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” Steve caught your eye as you walked over to him. Feeling your heart beating loudly in your ears, you caressed his face and kissed him. His lips were warmed and hesitant at first, but soon he found his confidence. Steve wrapped his arms around you and leaned in, pulling you closer. Your hands travel to his hair, running your fingers through it. Your lips danced around each other as if it was a choreographed routine. It was perfect; it felt right. 

You pulled apart, resting your foreheads against each other. His eyes flickered to yours, trying to catch his breath. Your gaze met his pink lips again when Cosmo barked. You and Steve both smiled, eyeing Cosmo. “He was tired of waiting, too.”

“Thank you,” Steve replied, forcing you to quirk a brow at him.

“For what?” 

“Making the first move. I was going to kick myself if I left and didn’t kiss you tonight.”

“Why didn’t you? I mean, you’re not the goody-two-shoes everyone thinks you are.”

He let out a soft chuckle, his warm breath hitting your lips. “I didn’t want to scare you away or come on too strong. I guess I was waiting for the perfect moment.” Steve shrugged. “It almost happened earlier, but Wong.”

You beamed at him, running your thumb across his cheek, watching his eyes fill with desire. “It doesn’t matter if it’s the perfect moment; it just has to be with the right person.”

“I think we should try it again, you know, just to make sure.” Steve gazed into your eyes, pulling you close and capturing his lips with yours.

__________

AN: Thanks for reading Part 14. About time they kissed, am I right? It's been a long time coming. The whole kiss scene at the end was kind of inspired by the Schitts Creek episode. The one where Patrick didn't kiss David, but it was the other way around. I don't know why, but I find that moment super adorable, and their chemistry is just so fun to watch! And she is finally giving therapy a chance, and from the looks of this chapter, it seems to be helping. Also, Steve's friend from the grill out made another appearance, and we learned a little more about him. Could this be the start of a great friendship, or are they just gonna be billiard/bar buddies? And what did you think of their date night at the trampoline park and Wong's cameo? I thought it would be better than the usual dinner/movie date. I will share that when one of my friends read this part and Wong interrupted their kiss, my friend commented, 'READ THE ROOM, WONG!' Now I can't help but laugh every time I read that part. 😂😂 Anyways, comments always welcome, hope yall are enjoying it so far! Thanks again!

[mellowswriting]

Hey I saw your requests are open! I love the quarantine series! I’ve been on a Marcus pike kick lately and I’ve been super stressed about college and my work load trying to graduate😩 I’d love to hear your interpretation of Marcus when his girl is going through this cause you know he’s 💕that guy💕 - how he’d help you relax and everything... maybe even some smut if you’re feeling up to it 👀

Take a Break

pairing || Marcus Pike x Fem!Reader

summary || Marcus helps you relax after college stress

word count || 2,369

warnings || Explicit Sexual Content (fingering, praise kink, soft dom!Marcus, allusions to p in v sex), stressed out reader, Marcus to the rescue, domestic fluff, ‘good girl’, no use of y/n

a/n || As a college student who is also ready to explode from school stress, this was cathartic as hell to write. I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist  |  Join the taglist!

Your cursor hovered over the submit button. This research paper had been the center of your academic focus for nearly three months and had taken up the majority of your energy for far too long. Once that damn paper was submitted, you could breathe easy for a while and not have to see statistics and graphs in your sleep anymore. So you took a deep breath and hit the button, relishing in the relief that washed over you - for approximately three seconds.

There were still assignments to be worked on, textbook chapters to read and take notes on, and you just wanted to throw your laptop into the ocean instead. Fuck it all. In that moment, all of your progress and hard work and the finish line that was so damn close really didn’t seem to matter. You would rather hide under your blankets for the last month of the semester than even think about philosophy notes or biology tests.

But you couldn’t.

There was no way in hell you were going to let the last two years of hard work and a solid grade point average go down the drain, especially when you had a summer well on its way where you could relish in not having academic responsibilities. You rubbed a hand down your face with a frustrated sigh and put your textbook down on your desk - maybe just a bit harder than necessary, because the door creaked open a few moments later.

“How’s the paper going, honey?” Oh, Marcus. Your sweet, sweet Marus, who’s words were already making tears of frustration prick your eyes.

“It’s finished. I just turned it in.” You said, your voice devoid of the usual pride that followed a well-written assignment, and flipped open the book in front of you.

Marcus’s hands fell to your shoulders as he stood behind your chair and started rubbing, those strong fingers working the tension from your muscles. “What are you doing then?”

“I still have a ton of shit that needs to get done. Notes and a ton of reading, and I have to study -” You cut yourself off with a heaved breath. The stress was getting to you, you could recognize that, but it wasn’t enough to overpower the anxiety of impending deadlines, even if you still had plenty of time and wiggle room to get them finished.

Marcus paused. It wasn’t the first time he had seen you like this, and he wasn’t about to discount what you were feeling by telling you to relax or something else equally as stupid. “Okay, how about you come have lunch with me? You need a break. You can’t be productive when you’re burnt out. Maybe we can talk it out, help you come up with a plan.”

It took a moment for you to convince yourself that it was okay to leave your desk, to focus on something that wasn’t your classes for a little bit. When you nodded, Marcus smiled at you bright enough to melt some of the frustration. Unbeknownst to you, he had a little something planned.

If there was anything true in the world, it was that Marcus Pike was the best man the world had ever seen. The stress you were feeling had been building up for the past week, growing heavier with each moment that it went unchecked, and he could tell. It was obvious in the way you held yourself, in the way that all the sleep in the world didn’t help the tired look in your eyes. He knew he could do nothing to help with the actual classwork itself, but he could do whatever it took to ease the stress.

So the moment you essentially chained yourself to your desk, Marcus set about with his plan. First, he tackled the housework. He cleaned the kitchen and living room until they were spotless, grateful that your headphones blocked out the sound of the vacuum and kept his little project a secret. Then he cooked up your favorite meal and lit your candles in the living room, leaving the space warm and homey.

The surprise on your face was worth all of the effort. You buried your face in his shirt to hide the tears of appreciation that sprung into your eyes, your fingers fisted in the fabric as you tried not to full on cry at his sweet gesture. You sniffled a quiet laugh before you wiped the wetness away from your face.

“God, what would I do without you?” You pulled him close for a kiss, one he reciprocated eagerly. Those big, warm hands of his settled on your cheeks, thumbs rubbing sweet little circles against your cheekbones.

“I find myself asking the same thing everyday I get to wake up next to your pretty face.” He whispered against your lips and gave you one last kiss before he guided you to sit on the couch with your soft throw blanket tucked around your shoulders.

“Marcus… you didn’t have to do all this…” You murmured as he handed you a plate and settled in next to you with his own.

“Of course I did,” He rubbed a soothing hand up and down your calf. “Besides, this isn’t even everything.”

You captured his hand in your own. “I love you so, so much.”

“I love you, too.” Marcus chirped with a smile, lifting your joined hands to kiss your knuckles. “Now eat up, you need your energy.”

Never in your life had you felt more appreciated, more taken care of, and apparently this wasn’t all he had planned. He finished eating before you - you swear, that man practically inhales food - and he drew your feet into his lap to gently massage the arches. It didn’t take him long to ease the stress of the looming workload. Somehow, he always managed to find the perfect words to remind you just how capable you are and that you were on the right track.

You set your plate down on the coffee table and slid closer to Marcus’s side, all too ready to curl up with your lover and spend the rest of the day soaking in the bliss that flowed from him, but he was quick to stand and urge you to your feet. The moment of confusion dissipated when he led you to the bathroom, where he had laid out the makings of your favorite stress reliever - a bubble bath.

“Oh, Marcus.” You sighed as he began filling the huge tub, already stripping out of your clothes in excitement. “You better get in there with me.”

“But this is supposed to be about you, not me.” Marcus said with a small shrug.

“I’ll enjoy it even more if I have my man with me,” You purred, stepping into his space in only your bra and underwear to press a lingering kiss to his lips. The surprised hum he gave you made a little thrill fly through you. “Please, baby?”

“Anything for you.” Marcus smiled as he reached around to undo your bra and pull the straps down your arms, moving on to curl his fingers under the hem of your underwear and tug them down as well. He kissed your thigh when you moved to step out of them.

Marcus yanked his clothes off with no flair and stepped into the steaming bath, settling into the water so quickly that it damn near sloshed over the sides of the tub. He reached for you and you couldn’t help but smile. It was precious, the way he guided you into his lap amidst the bubbles and pulled you close against his chest.

Little kisses were peppered along your shoulder and up your neck, the heat already working at your sore back. Marcus’s hands slid up your belly, cupped beneath your breast to hold you close, and the combination of his presence with the heat and soft floral scent of the bubbles had your worries slipping into the background.

“I missed this.” You murmured as you melted against him, your head lolled back on his shoulder. It had been far too long since you felt peace like that. Marcus’s fingers rubbed soft patterns into your skin and you were in heaven.

“Me too,” He kissed your temple and you could feel the smile on his lips.

“Thank you, Marcus.” You looked up at him. He seemed just as relaxed as you felt, his head tilted back against the edge of the tub, eyes closed. “You make me feel sane in the midst of all this stress. I don’t know what I would do without your support. You’re such a good man.”

Marcus whined low in his throat. Your praise always did something to him, lit a fire in his belly and made him want to squirm with happiness. All he ever wanted was to make you happy, make you feel as cherished and loved as he possibly could, at least as much as you made him feel. Normally he was good with his words. He could wax poetic about how much he loved you and how he was the luckiest man alive with you by his side, but your sweetness left him dumbstruck.

Since his mouth couldn’t form the words he wanted to say, he used it to lavish your bare skin with kisses as he rubbed at your tense muscles, your skin slick with the soapy water. He could feel the small moan he worked from your body and smirked - he absolutely lived for those little sounds, the ones that told him he was making you feel relaxed and happy. Your hands slipped down his thighs that bracketed your body and began mimicking the circles he massaged you with.

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one helping you relax, sweetheart?” Marcus teased despite the way his cock was slowly hardening at the small of your back, only provoked further by the light drag of your nails along his thighs.

“Can you think of a better way to relax?” You teased right back as you arched back slightly to grind against him, using your hands on his thighs to support yourself. Marcus inhaled sharply and you could feel the subtle way his hips pressed up to meet your movements. Need began to build low in your belly.  

“Are you sure?” Marcus rasped and at your nod, his hands slipped around to your front, one hand settling low between your hips to firmly hold you against him, the other trailing down to cup your sex. Your low gasp made him hum, a dark tone that you recognized from those moments he took you apart piece by piece in the comfort of your bed. “Are you feeling needy, baby?”

“Always need you.” You spread your thighs, bracing your feet between the sides of the tub and his legs to support your desperate little grinds against his fingers. His middle finger curled to glide up to your clit but he didn’t give you the friction you craved, that damn tease. “C’mon, make me feel good. Please?”

The desperate quality your voice had taken on was enough to make Marcus moan against your neck, his tongue shooting out to wet his lips before he whispered in your ear. “I’m gonna make you come before I get you in that bed. A little reward for all your hard work, hm?”

Before you could even whine out your need for his promised reward, he finally began moving his finger against your clit and pleasure flooded you, leaving you to meet his movements with little circles of your waist. Marcus would usually tease you at least a little before delving in and drowning you in pleasure until your legs were shaking and your mind was left blank, but he seemed to be in a giving mood after all of your efforts. Every pass of his fingers over your clit had that tension pull tighter, your pussy tightening around nothing. You ached for something to fill you, his fingers, his cock, you didn’t care. The relief of pleasure after so much stress had your release building faster than you were used to, and your hands fumbled for purchase to keep you grounded to reality as Marcus worked you closer and closer to orgasm.

One hand clutched at his wrist, desperate to keep him right where you had him, and the other found itself buried in Marcus’s hair. He angled his head to give your better access, letting you grab at him to be your anchor, kissing up your neck and placing his lips right at your ear.

“Good girl,” He rumbled, chuckling at your sweet little gasp. “Such a good girl for me. You gonna cum all over my fingers, aren’t you? Yeah, you are. That's it.”

“Oh god, Marcus…” You gasp in that pleading tone that made something possessive bloom in his belly and he redoubled his efforts, taking your earlobe between his teeth and tugging slightly. “Fuck!”

Water sloshed over the sides of the tub with the intense way you jerked against him, your orgasm cracking through you like a sharp flash of lightning, arcing and splintering up your spine and leaving you wrapped in a warm haze. You trembled against his chest, your legs snapping closed around his hand as he slowed his movements until his fingers were completely still. The warm water eased you even further into that sweet headspace of your afterglow, made more sweet by the kisses and praise your lover pressed into your skin.

“You still with me?” Marcus murmured and you looked up at him with that dazed look he absolutely adored. At the sight of your pursed lips, he leaned down and kissed you, slow and languid as he let you find yourself again. Wandering hands helped ease you back down to earth, his strong hands working at your already loose muscles. “You did so good, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.”

You whined quietly at his praise, curling closer for more kisses and affection, only to whine again when he pulled away. “Please?”

Marcus chuckled. “Fine, but I’m getting you in that bed in a few minutes. I’m gonna fuck you so hard you forget your own name.”

{Taglist}

@iamburdened @everyhowlmarksthedead @jenrebloggingfics @xserenax-13 @silverstarsandsuns @luminescentlily @peterpstuff @leonieb @lazybeeches @withasideofmeg @freeshavocadoooo @chattychell @ew-erin @i-ship-it-ironically @artsymaddie @mrsparknuts @wyn-dixie @notabotiswear @lunaserenade @jitterbugs927 @theorganasolo @the-witty-pen-name @northernpunk @lemonlime09 @la-lunaluna @andruxx @greeneyedblondie44 @bloodsuckingbastards @coldlilheart @gracie7209 @green-socks @paintballkid711 @lord-of-restingbiface @asta-lily @sarahjkl82-blog @a-skov @himbotroy @marvelousmermaid 

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

Oh, that bit about Karl’s powers and XD’s company at the beginning of the overwatch timeline made the karlnapity brain go brrrrrrr, bro!! Very long post ahead!!!! And I know the chatfic is coming soon, and I totally understand if you wanna reserve the blog’s attention for that once it comes out because I am also extremely excited for it, so publish this whenever you want!! Also good luck with the title and summary!!

So like, it’s a few years after Overwatch fell, and Sapnap, Quackity, and Karl are more or less content! They feel for Sam and the other original members, they do, but Overwatch and the omnics honestly weren’t a very big part of their world. They all made it through the omnic crisis just fine, and now they’re just going about their lives in the relative peacetime. They’re even engaged, vague plans of a marriage someday cobbling together bit by bit, but they’re in no rush. They’re happy!

And then Karl finds out about this interesting experiment that’s looking into real, live, actual time travel. Like!! Karl was psyched enough when space travel started getting big again; he knows just about everything there is to know about Horizon One for someone who’s never been there. If time travel turns out to be real? Karl wants in, and he wants in now.

Sapnap and Quackity are half-convinced it’s a scam or a gimmick or something. Sure, they personally knew what amounted to a superhero team a few years ago, but there’s a difference between a small group of skilled fighters and literal time travel. Especially since it’s an XD-sponsored endeavor, Quackity is certain there’s some catch. If nothing else, it’s probably a way to waste a lot of people’s time and money to get XD some good press again.

But Karl is so excited to check it out, neither of them want to try particularly hard to shut him down. They decide they’ll keep an eye on it, obviously, just in case, but they wish Karl good luck and a good time. So he heads out with high hopes and a little suitcase, promising to call every night and to see them soon.

And for the first few days, it goes great! Karl does call them every day and talks for at least an hour about everything he’s learning about this theoretical time travel and how it’ll work: a ship called the Slipstream, which is supposed to use teleportation technology to travel between places in negative time, thus creating functional time travel. Sapnap and Quackity reserve their doubts, but Karl’s having the time of his life either way, and they’re glad to hear him so happy. Especially when he tells them that he gets to get in the ship and take it on a test flight tomorrow - not to try out the time travel yet, but just to make sure he knows how to fly it. Karl gets to fly a ship!! He’s gonna be an actual pilot!! He’s so excited!!!

Karl hangs up that night, clearly over the moon, and Sapnap and Quackity resolve themselves happily to at least four hours on the phone tomorrow night, hearing all about the flight and how it went and what Karl is looking forward to.

And the next night, the hour comes, and Sapnap and Quackity settle on the couch with snacks and drinks, ready for a good long listening session. They wait for the phone to ring. And wait. And wait.

After an hour, they reason that maybe the test flight took longer than expected. Maybe Karl is tired out from flying it. Maybe Karl got distracted. Maybe he forgot to charge his phone. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Either way, it’s not like they had agreed that he’d call at this specific time. So there’s no need to worry. They’re not worried.

Another hour passes. And then another, and another, and soon midnight finds Sapnap and Quackity, sitting in the kitchen with mugs of tea long since cooled, watching a phone that won’t ring. Looking up the experiment or the Slipstream doesn’t bring up any bad news, which sets them both a bit at ease; no news is good news, right? At least for now?

Uneasily, they decide to go to bed. Karl will have to have called or at least texted by morning, surely. And if not, they’ll call him, and then they’ll call the number they were given for questions about the experiment. There’s no reason to worry.

Despite having no reason to worry, when morning comes without word from Karl, Sapnap and Quackity worry. When they call Karl, it goes straight to voicemail. When they call the number for the experiment, it’s disconnected. When they look up the experiment and the Slipstream and XD in general, they notice what they hadn’t last night: not only is there no news, there’s no mention of the experiment. The website Karl had learned about the experiment from is gone. XD’s website makes no mention of time travel. Even with all of Quackity’s investigative power, as far as the world wide web is concerned, there has never been a ship or shuttle with the name Slipstream.

It’s like the whole project never existed at all, and Karl Jacobs along with it.

Thus begins Sapnap and Quackity’s investigation. They call anyone who will listen, telling them that Karl is missing and it’s almost certainly the fault of XD and his company and please please please help them find out what happened. They become the most annoying thorn in XD’s side in months, calling every division in every company several times over, demanding answers. At one point, they’re discreetly contacted and offered hush money if they just drop it, and Sapnap has never screamed so loud in his life as when he told them exactly what they could do with that money. Quackity immediately tries to follow up, tracing the offer to gather proof that something must have happened if they’re trying to cover it up, and only runs into a brick wall. XD is infuriatingly good at covering his tracks.

What finally marks the turning point in their investigation is XD’s most common underestimation: common human decency between strangers. Quackity and Sapnap are anonymously contacted by someone who was working in the experiment’s division and heard about their search, someone who has access to Slipstream plans and blueprints. Through them, Quackity and Sapnap learn that Karl vanished because he was pressured into activating the time travel function on his test flight, despite the fact that it wasn’t ready yet. They’re also given early blueprints for the Slipstream, which include some of the plans for the time travel mechanism.

It’s this mechanism that Sam is able to study and rework and reverse engineer, eventually leading to the development of the chronal accelerator, which should, in theory, bring Karl back.

And it had been a rough time for Quackity and Sapnap, spending nearly all of their free time trying to gather resources and to find the truth and then to help Sam however he needed. They’ve undergone their respective breakdowns, supporting each other through them: Sapnap kept Quackity from burying himself too deeply in his work and his research, getting him to sleep and eat regularly. In turn, Quackity made sure he was available for Sapnap to talk and vent to, redirecting his steadily burning fury to constructive outlets. They’ve settled into an uneasy but manageable rhythm of getting through the days, haunted though they are by the uncertainty of where Karl is and when (if) they’ll see him again. And with the invention of the chronal accelerator, they’re both struggling with just how much hope they can afford. If this doesn’t work - if they get so close to finally getting Karl back, only to fail… it’s not something they want to think about.

So when Sam calls them down to his workshop, saying that he thinks he has a working model to recover their fiance, they arrive hand-in-hand, Quackity guarded, Sapnap cautiously optimistic. They gather around the workbench, surrounding Sam’s invention, a mechanical-looking harness with a glowing, green-and-purple spiral at its heart. Sam looks to them, hovering one hand over the activation switch, waiting for their signal.

They share a glance. Sapnap squeezes Quackity’s hand, steady and secure. No matter what, it promises. No matter what, I’ll still be here. I’m with you.

They both nod to Sam, and he flips the switch.

The harness hums and crackles to life, its spiral glowing brighter and starting to spin. Sam stands at the ready, watching six different monitors to ensure nothing goes wrong. Sapnap and Quackity lean on each other, nearly holding their breath, eyes glued to the accelerator.

Slowly, a figure fizzles into existence. Half-transparent, arms curled close to their chest, they glance around the room, looking lost and unsure, until they meet eyes with Sapnap and Quackity. Then their eyes go wide, one hand rising to their mouth, hanging open in shock.

Sapnap? says the ghost of Karl Jacobs. Quackity?

And in the next second, the ghost comes back to life, lungs filling with air, color rushing to his cheeks, solidity returning to his form. And Karl gasps, coughs, leans forward with one hand clapped over the accelerator, and his gaze doesn’t leave his fiances for a second. He extends one shaking arm, reaching for his fiances with an open hand. The tension shatters.

Sapnap closes the distance in half a second, Quackity barely a breath behind. The fiances collapse against the table as the two of them all but tackle Karl. Because Karl is real, Karl is alive, Karl is here in front of them. The lingering doubts that have dogged their footsteps vanish. The fear in their hearts that three engagement rings would become two wedding rings dissolves. The aching absence they’ve felt between them for months melts away in tears and sobs and bone-crushing hugs, the three of them relishing the hard-regained closeness, pressing together as the weight of the world lifts from all of their shoulders.

They’re together again.

[sukifans]

IT’S ALL LATIN TO ME

ZUKO X READER COLLEGE!SMAU

⏎ MASTERLIST // part VI « VII. just friends :) » part VIII

SUMMARY: you’re a premed student at BSSU and you thought it’d be a good idea to take a latin class, but you’re in way over your head here. good thing your buddy sokka knows a classics major in your section you can study with.

WARNINGS: language

She really, really tried not to show how nervous she was. It would be stupid to be nervous, after all — it’s not a date, regardless of what her friends say. Besides, they had hung out alone before, even if only to study Latin. Friends meet up and get dinner and see movies together all the time. Toph and Suki and everyone else were just projecting what they wanted to happen. Surely if Zuko had intended to ask her on a date, he would simply and clearly ask her on a date. Surely.

The car ride to the pizza joint near the theater they’d decided on for dinner was mostly music-filled silence punctuated by some awkward small talk. She hoped he wouldn’t notice how often she had to covertly wipe the sweat off her palms on her pants. He was anxiously tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel as he drove, wishing he could think of something to say to break through the palpable tension. Even as he racked his brains, nothing came up. He let himself zone out to the sound of her soft humming from the passenger seat and stole glances over at her every so often. Maybe by some miracle he’d be a master at the art of conversation by the time they made it to the restaurant. Unlikely, but not entirely impossible.

“You know I have to pay for your ticket now, right?” she said, eyeballing him as he added a tip and signed the receipt for the dinner he’d insisted on covering.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m paying tonight.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m paying tonight.”

“You don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed. “You don’t need to do that.”

“I want to,” he assured, bumping against her side as they left the restaurant and headed in the direction of the theater. “Besides, princesses don’t pay for anything.” He grinned at the way her nose scrunched.

“You would know,” she quipped. He rolled his eyes to draw attention away from his nervous blush when she linked their arms together and leaned into him.

“Why do they call you that, anyways?”

She pursed her lips and willed the aggressive heat rising to her cheeks to settle down. “They say I’m high maintenance,” she lied.

He frowned. “That’s kind of mean. For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re high maintenance.”

“Thanks, Zu.”

They continued to chat lightheartedly as they walked up to the theater building and, after a bit of arguing and shoving to get to the card reader first at the ticket stand, (Y/N) begrudgingly accepted that Zuko would not be letting her pay that night. She held out hope that maybe she could sneakily buy something from the concession stand before he noticed. As they approached the counter, an employee ringing people up caught her eye. He was familiar, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on why. The feeling kept getting stronger as she and Zuko approached his register.

“Oh, hey, Zuko,” the guy said once she and Zuko were in front of him.

“Hey, Haru.” Ah, Haru! She and him had had a few classes together in the past and sent lecture notes back and forth. “How have you been?”

“The usual, work and school.” Haru shrugged. “You?”

“Pretty much the same,” said Zuko. “Do you know my friend (Y/N)?” Haru looked over to her and gave her a soft smile.

“Actually, yeah. We’ve been in a few lectures together. What’s up? Haven’t seen you this semester.”

“Oh, you know... the usual,” she chuckled nervously. “You and Zuko know each other?”

“We went to high school together,” he said.

“It seems like everyone at BSSU went to high school together,” she said and Haru nodded.

“Most people that went to our school ended up here, honestly. But hey, I don’t wanna keep you guys from your movie. Can I get you something?”

(Y/N) had nearly tackled Zuko in order to pay for their snacks before he could, making Haru laugh. When she met his eyes, she felt warmth flood to her cheeks.

“Thanks, Haru,” she said, looking away quickly.

“Yeah, for sure. Have a good time, guys.” As she started to turn away, he leaned forwards to catch her attention. “It was nice seeing you again, (Y/N); I’ve kinda missed you copying off my notes in class. We should go out for coffee or something sometime.”

Well... that was unexpected. She was so surprised by the request that she didn’t notice the way Zuko stiffened, muscles in his face flexing as he clenched his jaw. Haru did, however, and shot him a confused look that was met with narrowed eyes. Blinking quickly, she recovered and sent him a smile.

“Yeah, that’d be fun,” she said.

“Great!” Haru said. “I’ll talk to you later, then. See you guys around.”

“Have a good shift!” she chirped. Zuko merely grunted and nodded towards Haru in acknowledgement before walking towards the theater with (Y/N). Now she noticed the tension in his posture and nudged him with her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You sure? You’re acting weird now.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.” She frowned and stopped just outside the entrance to the theater. He paused too when he saw she wasn’t following.

“Do you not want to see the movie anymore? We can go home if you want.”

“No, I said I was fine. Let’s go.” He turned to leave and huffed when she didn’t move.

“Zuko,” she said pointedly and he felt his cheeks go pink. If he would’ve just plainly told her this was supposed to be a date, this wouldn’t have happened. It wasn’t her fault he was a jealous idiot.

He sighed. “I promise it’s nothing. It’s just a little jarring seeing people from high school because... well, I wasn’t a very good person back then. I don’t like to remember it.”

Her expression softened. “Sorry, Zu. I didn’t realize.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. You’re right, I was acting weird.” He held his hand out to her and she took it gladly. “C’mon, we have a movie to watch.”

“If it means anything to you,” she whispered as they looked for their seats, “I think you’re a very good person now.” His pulse jumped at her words as she squeezed his hand.

“It means a lot, (Y/N),” he responded, giving her a small smile that she returned.

When they finally left the theater a few hours later, Zuko made sure their clasped hands were in plain sight as (Y/N) waved goodbye to Haru.

A/N: hi guys!! it’s been a while, i know :/ i was going through a big slump and this chapter was giving me a lot of problems for some reason. i’m still not thrilled with it, but i wanted to get something out for y’all! thank you so much for being patient with me as i adjusted to moving back to my college town and starting classes and work again, so many of you were so very lovely and supportive and it made the slump easier to worm out of eventually. and i made a gif! :D anyways!! hope you enjoyed this update and as always feel free to send an ask or reply! for tag requests i prefer asks so i can keep track of them easier without getting lost in my notifs :^) also sorry about no read more cuts, every time i try to add one on desktop it won’t let me edit my draft on mobile to fix the formatting :(

TAGS: @theblueslytherin @beifongsss @coconutsaiyan @5sos-wdw @silverreading @the-lva-way @cupofnctea @khaleesi-of-assassins @bloomkings @pyromaniac-olive @lil-lex1 @kyleewrites @cece-lives-here @coldlilheart @royahllty @astralsaf @damianwaynerocks @darkskin-buttercup @emogril @plutaars @duh-dobrik @harajukukitsune @kangaroobunny @harmlessoffering @rosetheshapeshifter @past-2am @welovediaaxx @dailytrashypanda @thenutellabreadsticks @sara5208 @whalerus @fanworrior @andrevvminyrd @travvestys @rosesandpines @cipheress-to-k-pop @lukessimp @justab-eautifulmess @mochminnie @whoevenfrickenknows @asianequation @booksandwonderlands @dekumiya @mothman-juicy-ass @spooky-titties @394pitterpatterpotter394 @rockinearthbending-marauders @kurt-nightcrawler @sifucuteness @degenerationarmy @songofgratitude

[aomineavenue]

Homesick (Miya Atsumu x f!Reader) | 002. a mother’s nightmare

Summary: Six years ago, L/N Y/N wouldn’t exactly say that she loves her life. It had always been problematic but her best friend, Miya Atsumu, since she was eight when she moved to Hyōgo, has always been there for her, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. However, things would always fall apart for her ever since, so she should have expected of such. Running away from her problems seemed like the easiest route to take at the time, so what happens when the past comes barging back into her life demanding answers? Will she be able to confront her demons?

Pairings: Miya Atsumu x f!Reader

Updates: irregular.

Genre: Angst, ANGST I LOVE ANGST, a lil bit of fluff here and there.

Warnings: Language, etc. (Will be mentioned once posted because I don’t want spoilers huehue)

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters except for the reader and my ideas. I do not claim any images used for content in this fic, everything goes out to their respective creators unless it is mentioned that it is mine.

Status: ongoing. | series masterlist

↩ the unexpected | a mother’s nightmare | no other choice  ↪

However, as the door swung open, he hadn't expected the person standing before him. His eyes widen slightly as he feels his shoulders grow tense at the abrupt appearance. "What are you doing here in Kanagawa?"

"Aw," the person before him chuckles, a soft grin playing on his lips as he steps back to pull the door wider, "I miss you too, brother."

Osamu rolls his eyes as he steps inside, "No, seriously. What are you doing here?"

"I can't believe you're here," 

You raise an eyebrow as you took a seat across from him, the soft chatter and calming music in the cafe flowed through the atmosphere, "Well, you said you wanted to catch up."

"Well, yeah..." He trails off sheepishly, "I just really hadn't expected it. Our last meeting only made it seem you were avoiding such conversation."

"You're right. I was, I kind of still am." You answer truthfully, "You have my friend to thank. Something about facing my demons one by one. It has been six years." 

He nods, a small smile on his lips as he spoke. "I suppose I should thank your friend then. Why don't we order something before anything else?"

Osamu stares sadly at the recent text you had sent to him, declining his offer to meet up once again, claiming that you were busy throughout the following week. He didn't want to doubt or push you, it didn't seem like you were pushing him away or anything either, but he still wanted to spend time with you. Only because the last time the two of you had met to catch up with each other, something was bothering him. He didn't know what, but the conversation the two of you shared in the cafe seemed as if you were being cautious with the information you shared. He couldn't blame you. It was going to take awhile before you could open up to him.

He enters the apartment complex that he was directed to by the address given to him, not bothering to scan his surroundings. He didn't know why he was here in the first place. Well, it wasn't as if he had anything better to do in the meantime anyway with his shop still under construction. He had officially made the decision to open his business up in the heart of Kanagawa just weeks ago, he wasn't going to admit it to anyone, but his encounter with you had prompted such a decision. Hence, he had been quite busy himself.

Stepping out of the elevator, he walks down the path towards his destination, stopping at a door with a golden plate with the numbers '210' engraved on it simply, nailed to its wooden structure. He brings a hand up and presses his knuckles against the wooden door before knocking on it gently at least three times to signal the owner of his arrival.

However, as the door swung open, he hadn't expected the person standing before him. His eyes widen slightly as he feels his shoulders grow tense at the abrupt appearance. "What are you doing here in Kanagawa?" 

"Aw," the person before him chuckles, a soft grin playing on his lips as he steps back to pull the door wider, "I miss you too, brother."

Osamu rolls his eyes as he steps inside, "No, seriously. What are you doing here?" 

Atsumu closes the door behind him before following his brother into the vast apartment, Bokuto coming into their line of sight who was sprawled comfortably on one of the couches in the living room, eyes focused on the show being projected from the flat screen television across the room, "We're using the Sports Complex here for our training the next couple of months, I figured it would be better for me to stay here instead of going back and forth between Hyōgo and here, plus coach's apartment is closer to the complex anyway." 

"And you didn't bother to share this information before you invited me over?" Osamu questions Bokuto directly who waves him off with a laugh as he says, "He said he wanted it to be a surprise." 

Osamu lets out a grunt of displeasure at Bokuto's response before plopping himself down next to him, his brows arched in curiosity as he looks around, "And what about the squirt and Sakusa? Will they be staying here with you guys? This place looks pretty big."

"Shoyo's coming over tomorrow," Bokuto shrugs his shoulders, picking up a piece of chip with his fingers from the bag of potato chips in his grasp, "Oomi on the other hand refuses to stay with us because of Atsumu's ‘unhygienic habits’, so he had decided to book a hotel room a few blocks from here." 

Atsumu huffs, running his fingers through his hair as he juts his lower lip into a pout, "I'm clean!" 

"Sakusa probably detest the fact you leave your dirty clothes everywhere," Osamu lets out a laugh, "So how've you been, Bo? I know you've been here the last couple of weeks."

Atsumu huffs, "I'm pretty upset you hadn't met with Bo when I told you, we would have met sooner." 

"I've been busy," Osamu shrugs before he snaps his full attention on his brother at the realization of what his twin was implying, "Wait, you've been here since then?"

"Yeah I have," Atsumu snorts, "Been staying over here with Bokuto, doing some extra training. He actually introduced me to these amazing kids! Reminds me of us, 'Samu when we were younger."

His brother tilts his head to the side, "Kids? You? That's cool, I guess. How do you guys have time to train some little kids while you have your own training?" 

Bokuto nods, "I mean it can be like extra training. I wouldn't want to disappoint them, really. Apparently, I'm the Great Uncle Bo who's the best in volleyball."

Atsumu watches his teammate plaster on a little grin and he couldn't help but let his own smile form at his friend's enthusiasm. "Well, it's only because you bribe them with food. Little Hiro is slowly warming up to me, just you wait, he'll adore me more." He teases.

Bokuto only rolls his eyes at him before glancing over to the wall clock nailed above the television, his eyes widening before scampering around the apartment to grab the things he needed, silently beating himself up for forgetting as the other two watched with amused curiosity. "I'll see you guys later!" 

The twins could only watch their friend move frantically around the room, "Why are you in such a hurry?" 

"I forgot I'm picking up the kids today for training." He huffs, a soft grumble leaving his lips after, "I'll see you guys later." 

"Oi! I should join you picking them up then! Why would Shizuma even ask you?" Atsumu protests, stalking after Bokuto, "This isn't fair. You just want to continue being the favorite uncle." 

Before Atsumu could tackle Bokuto to the ground to stop him, he slams the front door shut right in Atsumu's face. Osamu chuckles at the sight, "Who would have thought you would like kids? What's so important that you have to get those kids to like you anyway?" 

Atsumu walks back into the living room with a pout, "They told me Bo was cooler! It isn't fair, I've been so much cooler to them than he has." 

"Seriously, are my ears deceiving me or are you implying that these kids were enough to crush your pride?" Osamu teases, a small grin playing on his lips. "But really, tell me the truth. I know you. Why are you staying in Kanagawa?" He watches Atsumu shrug, keeping his gaze away from his, "Ah, let me guess? Yumi then? You're avoiding her?" 

Atsumu lets out a groan, "Lately she's been just so clingy and suffocating. It's not like we made things official or anything. I told her myself that I wasn't interested in that kind of relationship."

"I told you not to get involved with her," he chastised, "A few of my friends said she was toxic and yet what did you do?" 

Atsumu can only scoff, "Whatever, she'll go away eventually."

The two brothers continued to converse with each other as if they haven't seen the other in months when it had only been a few weeks since Osamu ventured to Kanagawa for his business scouting purposes. Eventually, Atsumu claimed it was probably time for him to head over to the Sports Complex since Bokuto was probably on the way from picking up the kids he shared to Osamu that he had grown fond of. 

Osamu watches his brother head towards the front door with his gym bag, a million thoughts swimming through his head. You. Should he come clean to Atsumu about reconnecting with you? 

He wasn't dumb, he knew how his brother had come to the conclusion of his true feelings for you ever since you decided to disappear, not that his brother would admit it to anyone, he did know his brother better, probably knew of it before his idiot brother came to realize. He knew what his brother felt since you disappeared. Anger. Regret. He knows that once you had disappeared that his brother had been beating himself up but at the same time he had learned to resent you for leaving him behind, not that Osamu would tell his brother off that if he were to be angry with anyone, it should be at himself for being so blind to your feelings for him. He didn't want to pour more salt to freshly exposed wounds at the time.

Despite you walking out on his brother had caused a drastic change in how Atsumu lived his life, he knows that somehow, deep down, Atsumu will always hold you dear to his heart, not that he would also admit to such, only spewing his distaste for you ever since you had left. He knew otherwise. Of course, a part of him wants to come clean to his brother, but a part of him also wanted to earn your trust first. He remembers how as much as the two of you shared memories created the past six years, you had avoided any formed conversation regarding his twin brother. He was torn.

"Hey 'Tsumu," Osamu calls out just as his brother was about to leave the apartment. Atsumu glances over his shoulders to look at his brother in curiosity. Osamu sighs with a shake of his head, "Ah..."

The last two weeks felt emotional, yet weird for you. The twins started their training with their new favorite Uncle Bokuto, as they so put it much to Asuma and Reiji's dismay. You, as much as the rest of your friends, including Bokuto, were just as shocked when the twins had started calling him 'the great Uncle Bo', of course, you were quick to protest to the twins that Bokuto probably didn't want them to call him such, but with a grinning Bokuto, he quickly claims he didn't mind, repeating the name the twins call him as if it were a term of endearment. You had questioned the twins what had brought on the idea of calling Bokuto their 'great Uncle Bo' and Hiro simply responded with a "because Uncles are cool and he's the coolest so far!". Needless to say, since then, a competition for the Best Uncle title between Uncles had commenced.

The past two weeks since their training had started, the twins seemed to wake up earlier than usual, it was as if they had more energy than they usually had, often barging into your room to wake you up and pestered you to make breakfast before their Uncle Shizuma, who had volunteered to join their training to watch over them, picks them up half an hour early for their training with Uncle Bo and his friend who Bokuto promises to introduce once everyone's schedules were flexible.

However, as the holiday season for Galaxy Standard was fast approaching its end, you were far too busy to accompany their training sessions or even agree to a get together with any of the boys. Luckily, you had an assistant manager to help you around. It was finally a brand new season for the boys to go on tour, and setting up everything was a handful. You barely had any time for yourself.

Before your busy schedule had taken over your life, you were able to reconnect with Osamu at least once like Asuma had suggested. It was a brief meeting, but you enjoyed yourself nevertheless. Of course, you still refused to come clean over your little secret, you just figured it wasn't the right time nor was it something that should be discussed since it was the first time reconnecting with Osamu. Somehow, it wasn't the time to do so with your busy schedule, you were exhausted enough taking care of little pranksters that you call sons, that the drama that might ensue from a bomb confession like that would probably be the cause of your downfall. Dramatic as it sounds, you couldn't afford being mentally exhausted during the hectic upcoming weeks. 

You were grateful that Osamu kept his distance respectfully, not pestering you to be in his company, no matter how eager he had seemed. The two of you texted back and forth, him wanting to set up another arrangement to meet, while you—declining, well you were busy, it wasn't as if you were avoiding him, it was the truth. 

"Uncle Shizuma is taking too long!" Atsuhiko whines from the living room, staring at the front door with a pout, his arms folded across his chest, "Uncle Bo is waiting for us!" 

You couldn't help but let out a chuckle not being used to the twins addressing Bokuto, whom they had just met recently, as their Uncle, as you placed your work tablet on the coffee table, plopping yourself down on the couch that Atsuhiro occupied reading his little storybook about dinosaurs. Your arms instantly wrap around the little boy's body, pulling him closer to you. You nuzzle your nose into the crook of his neck, receiving a giggle from his lips as he protests, trying to pry himself out of your grasp. "What? You don't like mommy's cuddles anymore? Are you a big boy now?" 

"No mommy," he shakes his head as he puts the storybook away, only to wrap his short arms around your neck to hug you closer, "I love mommy's cuddles even when I get big. Just tickles." 

The doorbell echoes throughout the room and before you could muster any form of response, Atsuhiko jumps from the couch claiming that he'll answer it. You could only protest with a yell, extracting your arms away from Atsuhiro to follow him in case it was a stranger. 

"Atsuhik—" 

"Uncle Bo! You're here!"

You halt in your footsteps as you blink a couple of times, wondering if you were hallucinating. Why was he here? How did he even know where you lived? 

"Uncle Bo!" Atsuhiro cries out, jumping out of his seat and rushing over after slinging one of the straps of his backpack on his shoulder, his other hand gripping onto his brother's own backpack to hand it over. You were confused at Bokuto's presence, however, your boys showed no sign of surprise but more on the side of excitement, practically giddy that their Uncle Bo had picked them up for training this time. 

Bokuto seemed to sense your confusion and gave you a sheepish smile, "I'm assuming Shizuma didn't inform you. Ah—anyway, he had plans today and said I should pick up the boys instead and take them to training, so he gave me your address. I'm sorry, it didn't cross my mind to contact you first. Is this okay? If not, we can cance—" 

You listen as the man rambles on, the boys waiting (Atsuhiko in particular) impatiently by the door, tugging on Bokuto's hands to grab the man's attention. You cut Bokuto's rambling with a wave of your hand, shooting him an appreciative smile, "No, Bo. It's okay. I'm sure the boys would be upset if you had to cancel training. I trust you enough," you trail off before teasing him with a grin, "You are after all, the great Uncle Bo." 

Your teasing sends warmth to the tips of his ears but he couldn't help but let his mouth widen up to a smile, "I suppose I am. I'll bring them back in one piece, promise." 

"You better!" You let out a laugh, ruffling the hair of your twin boys before bending down to press kisses on their respective foreheads, "Be good to your Uncle Bo, okay? Don't be too hard on him. Have fun!"

They nod their heads and left without another word, you watch them walk away with a smile on your face as they begin chattering with their, just as energetic, Uncle Bo. A part of you was bothered at the fact that your two boys didn't even bother to look back like they used to but, however, that quickly faded when the twins turned around once they neared the apartment complex's elevator, waving at you simultaneously, each yelling out how they will miss you and it instantly warms your heart. They were indeed growing up.

While you returned inside your apartment to continue with preparations for Galaxy Standard's upcoming tour, the trio left the apartment complex and got in Bokuto's car, the man making sure to secure the twins comfortably in the backseat. Hiko whined, practically begging Bokuto to let him sit in front like the big boy that he was, unfortunately, his pleas had fallen on deaf ears as Bokuto drove off. 

As the trio traveled, there wasn't any dull moment within the confinements of the four wheeled vehicle, not even a moment of silence with the twins rambling on about their favorite things to do and adventures they went on, while Bokuto, equally excited to share his own stories.

"Hey Uncle Bo?" Hiko calls out, stopping Bokuto from his own rambling about how he was during his own childhood years. He hums in response as he briefly glances at the rear-view mirror to acknowledge the little boy. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

Bokuto eyes widens at the question, spluttering incoherent sentences that made the twins look at him weirdly. He grips onto the steering wheel as he lets out an awkward chuckle, "Why are you asking?"

Hiro shakes his head at his brother, playfully smacking him on the head which causes Hiko to flinch and yelp out, rubbing his head with his palm to soothe the brief pain. "I just wanna know if Uncle Bo has a girlfriend!"

The man chuckles, keeping his eyes on the road as his grip on the steering wheel loosens up a bit, "Nah, no girl."

"Oh good," Hiko starts, a small mischievous smile forming on his lips, "Will you date our mommy then? She needs a boyfriend, you know."

Once again, Bokuto returns to his sputtering state while Hiro lets out a dramatic sigh, crossing his arms against his chest as he gives his twin a look. "I'm telling mommy." 

"You want me to da—date your m—mom?" Bokuto stutters, bewildered. 

Hiko ignores his brother's glares and shrugs his shoulders, "It was Uncle Rei's idea! Mommy was yelling at him the other day and after mommy pinched Uncle Rei's ear, I heard him grumble how mommy needs to ‘loosen up’ and get a boyfriend!"

Bokuto lets out a laugh in amusement, "Well, why not ask your Uncle Rei to date your mom then? Or Uncle Shizuma."

"Uncle Shizuma has a girlfriend," Hiro claims.

Hiko adds, "Uncle Rei said mommy might end up killing him."

Bokuto chuckles, "then, why me?"

Hiko looks at him weirdly, "What do you mean? You're cool!"

"Do you not want mommy as your girlfriend?" Hiro asks, folding his arms across his chest as if to judge his supposed favorite Uncle, the little boy waiting for the correct answer or else he would have to decide that he would no longer call this man his favorite uncle like he had claimed, "She's very pretty. Do you not think she's pretty?"

"I—"

Hiko interrupts Bokuto with a loud huff, "You better think mommy's pretty or else I'm telling Uncle Asuma on you!"

Bokuto lets out a sigh, feeling warmth spread in his cheeks. He didn't know why, despite them being kids, the conversation itself was embarrassing enough, he wonders if the boys would end up telling you the conversation, or worse, Asuma or Reiji, the teasing would be endless. However, not wanting to upset them both, who are looking extremely impatient and upset waiting, he answers, "Yes, yes. Your mother is really pretty."

Hiko nods happily before looking at his brother with a wide smile. Hiro, satisfied with his answer for the time being, tilts his head as he asks, "So will you date her?"

“Nice receive, Hiko!” Bokuto praises with a huge grin while Hiko throws his fists in the air at his achievement, he looks over to the side with a wide smile, “Hiro! ‘Sumsum! Did you see that?” 

Hiro nods his head in response, giving his brother a thumbs up while the man next to Hiro lets out a happy cheer, “Way to go, Hiko! You’re going to be better than your Uncle Bo in no time, even better than me, your Uncle Atsumu.” 

The little boy that stood next to the bleached blonde man, tilts his head back to look up at him with a raised eyebrow, “You’re not our uncle.” 

Bokuto lets out a laugh, Hiko on the other hand, not really understanding what was so funny, decided to mimic his actions anyway. Apparently, acting like Bokuto would make him look as cool. On the other side of the court, Atsumu juts out his lower lip into a pout at being teased, by a kid no less, “Hey, a guy can dream okay. You two will soon call me Uncle too, and you’ll understand that I’m way better than Bo here.” 

“I can’t believe you’re jealous, ‘Tsumu.” Bokuto teases with a grin, tossing the volleyball over to Hiko who receives the ball with ease due to weeks of practice. “You did it again, Hiko! I’m so happy! I can’t wait to tell your uncles and your mom the progress the two of you made.” 

“I’m not jealous,” Atsumu retorts, scrunching up his features in annoyance, “I just can’t believe these kids think you’re better than me when I’m clearly superior.” 

“But Uncle Bo is so cool!” Atsuhiko exclaims defensively, pointing at Atsumu accusingly with his index finger as if to scold the man for disrespecting his favorite Uncle Bo. He adds, “He’s going to date our mommy, you know.” 

Atsumu wiggles his eyebrows at his friend, “Oh?” 

“What? It—It’s not like that!” 

Hiko stomps his feet and drops the volleyball in his grasp, sending a glare at Bokuto. “Why not?” Bokuto just lets out a nervous laugh, receiving a huff from Hiko who then turns his attention over to Atsumu, “Well, do you have a girlfriend?” 

Before Atsumu can respond, Hiro throws his hands in the air and shakes his head at his brother. “You can’t just ask everyone if they have a girlfriend or not so they can date mommy.” 

Sensing the twins about to start arguing, Bokuto rests his hands on Atsuhiko’s shoulders to avert his attention while Atsumu did the same with Atsuhiro. “Let’s go back to practice, okay?” 

“Hey ‘Sumsum?” Hiro calls out after moving away from the man’s grip on his shoulders to grab a volleyball, “Can you teach me how to serve properly?” 

Atsumu nods, walking to the edge of the court with Hiro trailing behind him, picking up an extra volleyball along the way, “Come on then.” 

However before the two of them could walk further to their destination, Atsuhiro tugs on Atsumu’s jersey weakly, a frown etching on his features. He mumbles underneath his breath, his grip on the volleyball weakening, “’Sumsum...I don’t feel so good.” 

Before Atsumu can comprehend what was happening, he catches a glimpse of Atsuhiro collapsing onto the floor behind him. 

“Hiro!” 

[cl-01-kestis]

The Proposition

Dismay - Grand Admiral Thrawn x Rebel!Reader | Part 10

Summary: You seem to be growing closer to Thrawn with each day that goes by as you’re kept prisoner on Lothal, and after spending a late night with him, you receive an interesting invitation.

Warnings: this is a pretty long chapter, alcohol consumption

Cheunh Translations:

Nah = No

Mar = Yes

It was day 4 of being Thrawn’s ‘guest’. You’d grown accustomed to the monotone colours and lack of untidiness in the chamber you were cooped up in. Your holodevice had been repaired, you got it back last night and left it on your nightstand so you could use it in the morning when Thrawn woke up and went to do his job as Grand Admiral.

The feeling of waking up beside Thrawn every morning was something you had adjusted to very quickly whilst being held by the Empire. Neither of you would be touching, you’d be in your own sides of the bed, but your bodies would still be fairly close. He held you whenever you had a nightmare, or couldn’t get to sleep (mostly any chance he got to).

Today was Benuday, you knew because you were trying your best to keep track of the days that went by and the limited time you had left with Thrawn before the rebels made an attempt to rescue you. This morning, he made you breakfast but unfortunately didn’t have time to wake you up due to how busy his schedule was for today, so you woke up alone and in a cold bed. But hey, you got breakfast.

Thrawn wasn’t in his chambers when you showered and done your usual routine of walking around aimlessly and scrolling through your data pad. He left you a note in Cheunh saying that he was requested at the cock pit and wouldn’t be back for a while, so you had no other choice but to lounge about.

You thought a lot about how much you missed your daughter, and as well as Kallus and all the other rebels back on Yavin. It hadn’t even been a week and you hated it, you hated the Empire. But Thrawn’s company was the only medication to distract you from all the negativity you were experiencing. He comforted you when you were feeling upset, laughed with you at corny jokes, uttered a smile whenever you done literally anything, stole glances from you every chance he got, and treated you as an equal rather than someone below him.

The only thing that brought you peace at this moment in time was the fact that Thrawn hadn’t changed one bit. The only difference was his ageing appearance and wiser-sounding vocabulary. Aside from those things, he was the same boy deep inside you always knew and grew up to love. Now that was comforting.

As well as spending time with each other whenever he didn’t need to work and catching up on the 14 years the two of you were apart, you truthfully opened up to Thrawn about Omani. You told him her interests, stories you remembered of her whe she was a baby, the things she hated, what she wanted to be when she became an adult, and all the small details Thrawn had missed out on for so long. In a sense, you felt like you robbed him from fatherhood, he was so fond of having a family, only to miss out on his daughters entire childhood. It felt wrong.

He didn’t seem to show any signs of anger or disappointment towards that, but then again, he was excellent at hiding things, especially his emotions. Either way, he was infatuated by your stories of Omani’s birth, the things you went through during labour, all the hardships and trauma, but she was a healthy baby girl. When you told him that, his eyes sparkled. You could tell he already truly loved her, and he hadn’t even meet her yet. You hoped he would get the chance one of these days.

The little squeaky gurgles of a 6 month old Omani blasted out of the speaker of your holodevice as it projected a video you had kept for years, one of many that logged videos and photos of Omani’s growth and all the things she was up to throughout her childhood. In the video you were watching, you, looking much younger, had her perked up on your hip and swayed about as a song echoed in the background. You looked at the camera which was set down on a table in the cantina on the rebel base at Yavin 4, bouncing her on your hip and holding one of her tiny blue hands, her fingers wrapping around one of yours, proving how small she really was.

Ahsoka was in the background, not in the video much but you spotted her laughing and encouraging Omani to dance as she wriggled in your arms. At this time, she would’ve been talking by now. No other words apart from ‘Mama’, ‘Nah’ and ‘Mar’. But she laughed a lot in the videos, her cheeks bright and her face glowing as she looked up at you and tried to grab your hair with her small hands.

Thrawn sat beside you in his bed, his shift was finally over and he joined you in watching the videos on your holodevice. So far, he was absolutely loving it. His smile outshone everything in the room as he watched a younger version of yourself dance with your, then, 6 month old daughter. His smile seemed to widen every time you or Omani laughed, and whenever you took her hand and waved it at the camera.

The two of you watched a few videos of Omani’s childhood, heartfelt laughter and stolen glances rippled between you and Thrawn as you watched each video with a sense of comfort. There was currently one of Omani as a 7 year old, holding your device and walking around your apartment with a big smile on her face. You remembered this video well, it was for your 35th birthday and she surprised you that day by waking you up with a surprise. Her small giggles echoed from the speaker as she started jumping on your bed, and in a flash she was tackled to the mattress and you were blowing raspberry’s on her neck and cheeks, your hands tickling her sides which caused her to drop the camera at a perfect angle where the both of you were seen toppling over the bed and into the floor, you taking the impact of the landing and making sure she didn’t get hurt as you cradled her in your chest.

“You’re truly protective over her” Thrawn comments with a light tone, leaning on his elbow as he relaxed on his covers. He was still wearing his Admiral uniform, he was too curious to see what you were watching than to change first.

“She was so clumsy as a kid, I always had to watch out for her,” You smiled. “Scraping her knees was a constant” You commented, feeling your heart swell with sadness as you remembered how upset Omani got every time she tripped up and fell over. You and her were very similar, you fell over a lot as a kid - Thrawn could confirm - and one time you even face planted and left a small scar on your upper lip, one that isn’t even visible but if you pointed it out, someone would notice.

“I understand that, was she an active child?” Thrawn asked curiously. In reply you rolled your eyes and let out a chuckle.

“Active is an understatement, she was uncontrollable in some aspects. There were times she got stroppy though, if she didn’t get her way, and those were the times it was hard to be a parent,” You sighed. “She was a very fragile kid, if she didn’t get her way she would start getting angry and kicking her feet” You paused the video playing on your device, looking to Thrawn who was staring up at you from his position on the bed. He had his head tilted to the side very slightly, an eyebrow raised but not in an insisting manner.

“I think she gets that trait from you” You smirked, intending for the comment to be brushed aside but Thrawn huffed once he heard what you had said. “I admit I was a stroppy child, but I grew out of that phase quickly” Thrawn defended himself, leaning his head back on the mattress and moving his elbow away to cross his arms over his chest, looking up at the ceiling and immediately contradicting his words as he pursed his lips. You didn’t say anything, laughing instead and biting your tongue to make sure you didn’t say anything that would make him more agitated.

“Aside from that though, she grew up a lot quicker than I anticipated. One day, she’s this little bundle of joy in my arms, the next she’s a fully grown woman with her own blaster in her hands” You sighed in a mellow manner, hanging your head and doing your best not to let the facts upset you. Thrawn sat up from his position on the bed and hesitantly rested his hand on your shoulder.

“Childhood always slips by much quicker than everyone expects. Adding onto that, she’s a Chiss as well, and our childhood is shortened by 4 years compared to yours” Thrawn explains. You know about the Chiss ageing system, you’ve always known it, but something about Thrawn saying it made you calm down and come to terms with the fact that Omani was a different species compared to you, she was half human but her genes were dominated by Thrawn’s, there was no denying it. She aged the same as him, spoke the same as him and looked exactly like him, but her face structure and habits were all taken from you. That was about the only thing that made you two related. But either way, no matter how much she looked different compared to you, she was still your little girl.

Both you and Thrawn agree - and have spoke about a few times - is that Omani was unexpected in the best way possible. You certainly didn’t plan on being a mother for a long time, or ever. Thrawn wasn’t in a good position to be a father and if anything, you shouldn’t have been parents at all. But because of your escape, and because of your decision to have a child, you’ve grown into the best version of yourself that you could ever be. Omani’s brought out the goodness inside you, she made you forget about the person you used to be back in the Empire, back when you tortured and killed people unapologetically. She made you see things clearly, and because of that you were complete. You didn’t fear anything, not after giving birth and raising Omani up until she was 14. You hoped Thrawn felt the same.

“What time is it?” You asked, closing over your holodevice and setting it down on the bedside table before looking back to Thrawn with a tired gaze. He looked over at the alarm on his table and sighed.

“17:45, we should probably get ready for bed” Thrawn yawned, running his hand through his hair and immediately messing it up. He ruffled his navy strands, ruining the sleek gel look he always wore. You felt privileged to see it in all honesty, no one else saw him in this type of way apart from yourself. Well, back at the academy Eli saw him like this as well whenever you three sparred in the training rooms, but you didn’t have a problem with that.

Coming to think of it now, where was Eli?

You frowned as the thought came across your mind, and all of a sudden you couldn’t stop thinking about it. You had been so focused on building up a sturdy commonality with Thrawn once again that you didn’t even realise who else was missing. Eli.

“H-hey, quick question” You spoke up as Thrawn stood up to head to the refresher.

“Yes?” He raised a brow, his back turned to you as he took off his Admiral top, revealing his thin black vest that hugged his muscular form beneath.

“I meant to ask this sooner, but where’s Eli?” You felt nervous about asking, but you were eager to know.

Eli was such an important part of your time at the academy. Yes, Thrawn was very important to you back when you trained there but Eli was your best friend, through thick and thin. He was a human that spoke Cheunh ontop of that as well, and he became a massive part of your life back at the Empire. You didn’t see him much after you graduated because you had your own squad but there was the occasional time when the both of you caught each other at the cantina and stayed there, talking till you were both kicked out.

Thrawn stayed quiet for a while, his body going stiff but eventually he cleared his throat and let out a plain, emotionless sigh.

“He was transferred many years ago to another commanding officer” Thrawn’s voice was oddly upsetting, he seemed depressed by just talking about the issue, you ended up feeling bad about even asking about it.

“The Emperor felt that he was distracting me too much from my duties as Admiral, at the time, and Eli was transferred, I’ve never heard from him since” Was all Thrawn said before walking out of his bedroom and leaving you alone to bask in your thoughts and brainstorm his answer.

“The... Emperor?...” Your voice trailed off, hand reaching out but eventually coming back down as his words dawned on you.

The Emperor.

-

When Thrawn came back to his bedroom, you were in the kitchen preparing yourself a drink, an alcoholic one. Thrawn didn’t have many spirits in his cupboard, he mostly had Caf pods, milk, tea bags, and Dasani water. But you managed to find an expensive bottle of Spotchka at the back of the cupboard, hidden away for no one to find, but due to the glow of the blue neon beverage, you spotted it immediately. You poured yourself a small glass, making sure not to spill any considering it looked and smelled like it costed more than Thrawn cared to admit, but you didn’t pour too much in case he was saving it for a special occasion.

Putting the lid back on and screwing it tightly to make sure no spillage would occur, you turned around and leaned lazily on the kitchen counter, holding onto the half full whiskey glass. You carefully sipped at the blue liquid, the sharp taste hit your taste buds but you didn’t cringe or spit it out. Spotchka was a drink you weren’t very familiar with, you hardly ever drank considering you were Imperial in your younger years and done nothing but work, and then after that you were a mother, so there was no time to sit around and get drunk. You weren’t saying you’d never had a drink before, you did. You just never really got drunk.

“I see you’ve found the spotchka” Thrawn’s voice startled you, almost causing you to spill the drunk but thankfully it didn’t tip over the edge as you regained your posture.

“You need to stop sneaking up on me” You chuckled, placing your free hand on your chest and taking another sneaky sip of the Spotchka in your glass. Thrawn smiled, removing the wet towel which was hanging over his neck and bundling it up in his large hands. He was now in his lounge wear, black vest and joggers with wet hair and tired eyes. Even you couldn’t deny, the man looked like a kriffing god. He could do nothing and look absolutely incredible, even at his age of 47. You admit, you were jealous he even looked that good, you wish you looked the same as you did 14 years ago but motherhood wasn’t kind to you.

“I think I’ll join you” He said, walking up beside you and getting himself a glass of his own, opening up the bottle and pouring himself some Spotchka. Turning around and leaning on the counter to match your position, he raised his glass close to you. In return, you raised your own and clinked it softly with his, offering a small ‘cheers’ before sipping at the blue drink. Thrawn took a generous sip before clearing his throat and rolling his head around his shoulders, sighing in relief at the sound of popping as his tense muscles relaxed. You copied his actions with a smile, using the base of your palm to push your chin to the side and crack your neck.

The two of you shared a moment of blissful silence, happily drinking at your Spotchka as your shoulders touched. Neither of you moved away, occasionally sneaking glances at each other but not enough to make the moment awkward. Nothing was ever really awkward between you both, everything always happened naturally and nothing was ever forced.

“You know, I have a proposition for you, if you’d like to listen?” Thrawn spoke after Maker knows how long, swirling the remaining Spotchka in his almost empty whiskey glass as he turned his head to look at you. In return, you nodded whilst finishing off your own drink, hiking it back before placing the glass on the counter and looking up to Thrawn.

“There’s an event, tomorrow night at the Imperial Palace. Many people, including myself, will be going,” He started, crossing his ankle over the other as he finished off his drink and placed it next to yours.

“Many Senators and other parties will be attending- I- I was thinking maybe you might want to go with me as my... partner?” Thrawn sounded so nervous, you weren’t even sure it was him you were speaking to. You spent a few seconds thinking about it. An Imperial Party, with Senators and full of people You loathed. But ontop of that, you’d get to go with Thrawn and maybe make a statement about being a rebel and also being his partner for the night. But then again, you couldn’t be too sure that being a rebel would be your role at the party. If that were the case, an assassination would surely take place.

“It sounds good to me, but aren’t I your prisoner?” You raised a reading brow, nudging his side softly as he looked away and blushed very slightly.

“You were a prisoner when Pryce was in control of you, but with me you’re a guest,” Thrawn answered.

“I’d never see you imprisoned like that again, Rcati, seeing you like that in the prison cell made me angry but also scared” Thrawn was genuine with his words, but you could tell he was careful with the way he constructed his sentences. He was more than angry and scared, you knew it, he was just too hesitant to admit it. Either way, you didn’t force him to open up about anything and by the looks of it, he knew you knew he was holding back with his words.

“In that case, sure, but what happens when I meet people and they ask me my occupation? Haven’t I been missing for 14 years?” You chuckled dryly, still looking at Thrawn who sighed and turned to directly look at you.

“The people attending the ball aren’t part of the team on Lothal, so no one will know who you are apart from me, and Pryce if she’s going” Thrawn explained with a calm exterior, gesturing words with his hands and rubbing the back of his neck as he cleared his throat.

“Hmm... okay...” You hesitantly agreed. “But what about an outfit? I’m not too fond of showing up in an Imperial uniform” You frowned, fiddling with the hem of your shirt which belonged to the man standing beside you. He rolled his eyes and nodded his head, arms still folded as he blew a loose strand of hair away from his eyes.

“I’ll have a tailor come down and get your measurements now, we’ve got little time to get everything organised” His arms fell back down to his side as he sat up from the counter and walked out of the kitchen to fetch his coms device. Sighing, you took both of the empty whiskey glasses and cleaned them out, leaving them on the dryer as you let out a small yawn and left the kitchen to see where Thrawn had gone.

By the time the tailor had arrived, you had washed up in the refresher and had your hair up in a bundle as you stood in the middle of the room with barely anything on. Thankfully, Thrawn had his back turned to you, sitting in his chair and analysing work from days prior as you got measured for your dress. You were wearing nothing but a pair of briefs and a bra that Thrawn managed to get for you. The tailor was a woman in her mid 50’s, greying hair and very delicate fingers as she wrote down each of your measurements with intricate detail. You held in a gasp every time the cold sashe of tape wrapped around a part of your body, from your hips, to your arm, to your legs. She measured absolutely everywhere, but you didn’t say anything.

“So, what design are you looking for, my dear?” The tailor asked, you were almost startled by what she called you but then you remembered she didn’t know you were a prisoner.

“J-just a simple gown thank you, I’m not too fussed” You reply shakily, rubbing your upper arms at the cold as the tailor started sketching ideas on her notepad whilst switching her glance from the paper to your body shape. You felt very exposed, shivering in the cold as you done a little awkward tapping motion with your feet in an attempt to warm yourself up.

“I’ll work right on it, my dear, what’s your shoe size?” The tailor asked. “Oh, I’m a (S/S)” You replied with a smile, picking up the black T-shirt from the ground and slipping it back on.

“Is there anything else you request, Grand Admiral?” The tailor asked with a clear, confident voice. You shuffled in your spot and crossed your arms as Thrawn turned back around in his seat, looking prepared to cover his eyes in case you were undressed, but relaxing once he realised you were dressed again.

“That’s all, thank you” He dismissed the tailor with the wave of his hand and in a flash, she was out of the room without another word with her tape and scribbled notes.

“Well that was riveting” You joked, your teeth chattering as you tried warming yourself up. Thrawn closed his data pad and stood up from his seat, making his way over to stand at your side and smile.

“Is it always this cold here?” You complained, frowning slightly as you continued rubbing your arms and clenched your jaw unconsciously. Thrawn rolled his eyes instinctively at your comment, unexpectedly scooping you up in his arms and, without a word, carrying you to his bedroom and dunking you on the mattress. You didn’t say anything, too taken aback by his actions as you lay on his bed with a shocked expression. Thrawn hid a smirk as he looked at your face, placing the covers over you and patting your shoulder before exiting the bedroom.

“Aren’t you coming?” You yelled out to him with a confused frown. “I’ve still got work to finish!” He replied from the main office.

“But You finished work two hours ago?!” You yelled back, sitting up in his bed and cupping the sides of your mouth so your voice could project further.

“You keep forgetting I’m the person in charge of this facility, Rcati!” Thrawn said, this time a chuckle in his voice as he replied to your eager sounding question. Sighing at his answer, you lie back down on the mattress and close your eyes, eventually slipping into unconsciousness as the silence surrounded you.

Thrawn listened carefully from his office, his eyes looking at the open door even though he couldn’t see you. He heard soft snoring a few minutes after your loud exchange of words and he smiled to himself, pausing his work to admire you, and just you. He didn’t want to move from his spot in case you heard his footsteps, but he wanted to see your face.

Thrawn was in a dangerous position. Each and everyday you were with him, his feelings for you grew uncontrollably. Everything you did drowned him with undeniable affection and he knew that it wasn’t a good thing. Loving you came at a price, if someone from the Empire or New Republic found out about the way he felt towards you, his career and life would he on the line. It wasn’t that he prioritised his work over you and Omani, he was just scared in case either of you bit the dust undeservingly.

For the time being, he had to keep his distance.

-

It was the day of the party. After 11 hours of sleep, you woke up to find Thrawn packing clothes for the trip ahead. He didn’t have work today due to the party and the limited time both of you had to get to Coruscant on time.

“Are you sure this is appropriate for a woman my age?” You asked the tailor who suited you in a black dress. You couldn’t believe that she had made this dress in under 24 hours, it was so beautiful and elegant, but you felt like you were looking at another person as you stared at yourself in the body sized mirror in front of you.

“Nonsense, my dear, you are going to a ball after all” The tailor replied, tightening the thread on the corset that wrapped around your waist comfortably, but at the same time you felt very sucked in.

Thrawn was out of his chambers, fetching his medals to wear on his Admiral Uniform at the party to obviously show to others that he was important. The thought made you roll your eyes. Typical Thrawn.

The tailor sorted your hair out naturally, placing a black headpiece on your head and adjusting it until she was happy. You looked like a Senator, but you were comfortable with that. She fitted you with jewellery and two long, black gloves that reached your upper arm, as well as a pair of black heels.

You looked and felt different, this was different than all the other Senator outfits you wore throughout the past years, you no longer felt like a New Republic Senator. You looked like an Imperial, and you hated that. Your worse fear was for someone from the Rebellion to find yku looking like that, and also being with Thrawn. You’d be considered a traitor and no one would trust you anymore, that frightened you. This whole ordeal made you uneasy, you weren’t sure why you agreed to do it in the first place, maybe boredom? A need of new enviromnent? You couldn’t exactly remember.

You flattened the material of the dress skirt with your palms, avoiding the chance of your nails catching the material as you sighed at yourself in the mirror.

“Thank you for everything, this is truly beautiful” You thanked the tailor as she finished up on your dress, smiling at you through the reflection before taking a step back and bowing politely to you. You unconsciously done the same which earned you a large smile from the tailor who seemed impressed at your kindness towards her. No more words were exchanged as she took her belongings and had a stormtrooper escort her out of the room. The soldier clad in white armour looked at you for a brief second before clearing their throat and excusing themselves out of the room and the door sheathed shut.

You looked around Thrawn’s office, pulling the dress skirt up and trying not to trip over yourself as you walked over to his office table and pulled out one of the drawers. Your assumption of him keeping a blaster under his desk was confirmed and you didn’t hesitate for a moment as you hiked the skirt of your dress right up to your hip, with great difficulty, and tucked it into the stockings you were wearing. Once you were all set, you checked your appearance before Thrawn returned and escorted you to the ship which would be taking the two of you to Coruscant.

[that-crazy-five-foot-two-chick]

Rating: G cuz I got nothin.

Word count: 873

Summary: Winry wheedled Ed into trying out for the musical with her. He agreed, assuming he could back out after auditions. And then he got the lead. OR Putting the drama in drama class, ft. pettiness, stage kissing, and applying stage makeup for friends that are totally just friends

Winry ran up to Edward, gasping for breath and grinning. "Ed! Did you see the cast list yet?"

Ed frowned. "Cast list? I thought I'd be able to back out after the stupid audition."

Winry groaned and rolled her eyes. "Back out? No, dummy, if you audition, you're asking to be considered for a role, and you take what you get. Now are you going to look or do I have to give you the news myself?"

"What do I care? It's not like I got anything special. I wasn't even trying that hard."

She put her hands on her hips. "So you're telling me that you weren't even trying at the audition and somehow got the lead?"

"I what?!"

"You got the lead, Ed! You're Curly!"

"No! This is all a big mistake! I don't know how to act! And who wants to play a guy with a stupid name like Curly, anyway?"

"Like, every guy that tried out," Winry said bluntly.

"Ugh, this is gonna be a nightmare. What about you, gearhead? You're the one who actually wanted to try out. Did you make it in?"

"Oh, I'm just one of the extras, but I'm not complaining too much. I've got so much homework from my A.P. classes, I hardly even know left from right anymore. Having that many lines to memorize probably wouldn't be good for my health," she said with a laugh.

"But you were actually trying out seriously! And I've heard you sing. If I had any say in it, you'd get the lead role, not me," Ed huffed.

"I'm not that good, Ed. Besides, it's way harder to get any kind of lead as a girl."

"Why?"

Winry sighed. "You know nothing about theatre, do you? Barely any guys ever try out, but there are always a ton of girls."

"Their loss, then. You're going to be an amazing whatever-you-are."

"Well, I think you're going to blow everyone away as Curly. At least, as long as you actually try to do a good job," she said, raising an eyebrow.

*****

"I still can't believe Brother is actually in the musical. I didn't think he'd touch the theatre department with a ten-foot pole," Alphonse remarked. "Have you gotten the scripts yet?"

"Yeah, we just got them yesterday," Winry said. "I take it he hasn't even looked at the script yet?"

"If he has, he hasn't told me," Al sighed. "So...I don't know about the stage version, but I know in the movie for Oklahoma!, they kiss. Are we gonna tell him or just let him find out when he reads the script himself?"

"They WHAT?!" Ed screeched as he whipped open the door. "Nope, I'm not doing it. I don't care what Ms. Catalina says. I'm not kissing some random girl!"

Winry dragged a hand over her face. "Ed, can you not be stubborn for once, if that's all it is? Ms. Catalina's got enough on her plate as it is without you making the rehearsals more complicated. It's not like this is the only class she teaches. I know it's not ideal, but it's just a quick peck. Unless...are you nervous because it's your first kiss or something?"

"No! It's not my first—ugh, fine, I'll do it. But it doesn't mean I'm not gonna wanna vomit afterwards." Ed averted his eyes as the color on his cheeks betrayed his feelings.

"As long as you stay in character, no one's going to complain." Winry shrugged, then fully processed what he had said. "Wait a second, what do you mean it won't be your first? Who else did you kiss?"

"Don't—dont worry about it. I said I'd do it. Anyways, I've got a lot of calc homework. I'll be in my room," Ed stuttered out.

If Winry didn't remember, Ed sure wasn't going to tell her. It's not like it counted for much, anyway. They were only seven, after all. At seven, no one can turn down a double dog dare, and Russell laughed at Ed right after he did it. But even so, Ed couldn't help but kiss her softly.

He vaguely remembered Russell sneering in the background, "Oooooh, I knew you had a crush on Winry! Wait till I tell Fletcher!" Ed would have chased him down and tackled him, too, if Winry's face hadn't made him pause.

Even ten years later, Ed couldn't forget how her little mouth formed into an 'o' as her eyes opened wide and her cheeks that were still a little chubby turned pink. Of course, he'd been a coward and run away right after that, but he remembered it all the same.

Did he want to kiss her now that he was in high school? Of course not—probably. Well, it'd at least be better to know what he was dealing with. Known factors and all that. What if the girl who played Laurey was a super slobbery kisser? Yuck. Even worse, what if he was the bad kisser? Maybe he should research how to be a good kisser… So that he would be good at his role, of course. Yeah. It was going to make for an awkward browsing history, though. Maybe he should go incognito…

A/N: It was supposed to be short. And then I finished this part and stopped and said "this is almost scratching 1k and I've barely even started it yet. This is just gonna be a multichapter now." Might only be two chapters, but we'll see...

[kiranatrix]

Need some Death Note fanfic to read while avoiding family, recovering exams/work, or just cause? Here’s everything I wrote in 2020 for Death Note. I’ll be updating this post for 2021 eventually. I organized them by type of work (in-progress fics, finished chaptered fics, tumblr fics, and one-shots).

IN-PROGRESS FICS BEING UPDATED NOW

Dial K for Kira: Lawlight//Rated E. Summary: Light needs some easy money to finance his Kira plans, and notices there’s a big demand for Kira roleplay phone sex. So he figures, “Why not? Pretty sure I’ll be convincing.” He raises some fast cash and plans to shut the whole thing down and get back to writing names, until he gets a request from somebody who wants to “roleplay” as L.

Catch Perfect [with @resilicns]: Lawlight/Rated M. Summary: Light’s desk catches on fire during the placement of L’s illegal surveillance cameras in the Yagami household, burning up the Death Note. Light forgets everything, the killings suddenly stop, and Kira fades away from the public consciousness but never from L’s. Six years later, Ryuk returns to Earth with a new Death Note for Light, now an agent in INTERPOL, ready for Round 2. L’s ready too.

Good Bones [with @main-exam]: Lawlight/Rated E. Summary: Mello and Matt have a seance with a cursed Ouija board but summon a very annoyed Ryuk from the Shinigami Realm into the attic of a gothic mansion. Fast forward a few years and Light Yagami is a realtor in England, vying for the title of Realtor King from the current champ. He's determined to sell this discount mansion with a bad reputation, but just as Light starts to make friends with the mansion's ghost, a ghost-hunting detective gets wind that something spooky is going on.

FINISHED CHAPTERED FICS

Koi No Yokan [with @ghostoftasslehoff​]: Lawlight//Rated E. Light decides to take a little risk and seek a no-strings-attached hookup and gets a surprising (accidental) match. Light and L gradually open up to each other over the course of a night, not knowing who the other is. However, as they go back to their lives in the morning, suspicions take hold and secrets come to light. The chance meeting starts to feel a lot more like fate as L closes in on Kira, and both must decide whether they felt anything real for the other and what that means. 

Lux Aeterna [with @ghostoftasslehoff​]: Lawlight//Rated E. Vampire AU. The world’s greatest vampire hunter, L Lawliet, heads to Romania with his mentor Watari to investigate some odd disappearances. Meanwhile, the 400-year-old vampire, Light, has recently awoken from his century-long slumber to find the world has changed, but his thirst for the blood of sinners hasn’t. 

Enemy of My Enemy [with @my-one-true-l​]: Light Yagami/Beyond Birthday//Rated T. It’s just another day for To-Oh’s top student Light Yagami, until he runs into a mysterious new student in class who can see Ryuk. Beyond is set on getting to Kira before L does but things take a twist when Light gets him alone.

TUMBLR FICS

Strange Fiction: Death Note Ficlets: Various//Rated Gen to T. Thirty-nine ficlets and more added periodically. Lawlight, Ryuk & Light being bros, MikaLight, gen fic, Remisa, Android AU, stories of Light and L’s childhood, etc.

ONE-SHOTS

Get Well Soon [with art by @sketchyspirit​]: Lawlight//Rated E. Summary: Light buys Misa a birthday present which L jealously intercepts. Possessiveness and misunderstandings threaten to rock the precarious agreement between Light and L, where each has made dangerous sacrifices to stay together after the end of the Kira case. 

Phototaxis: Lawlight//rated G. Summary: L comes over to the Yagami's household for dinner and to work on a project with Light. On the menu are suspicions, ulterior motives, and nobody saying what they mean.

Orbit: Lawlight//Rated T. Summary: Light’s having lunch under the cherry trees with his friends at To-Oh, but L unexpectedly shows up and runs everyone else off but Light. A missing scene, a private conversation with L's 'first friend' and rival under the spring sakura.

Appetites: Lawlight//Rated T. Summary: It was never about cake.

Main Attraction [with @ghostoftasslehoff​, with art by @ohgodplsdontlook​]: Lawlight//Rated E. Summary: Light invites L to the movies but L expects to be bored since Light picked the flick. Light has a secret plan to make sure that L will be on the ‘edge’ of his seat the whole time-- a toy that L doesn't know is remote-controlled. L finds out the hard way, and at the worst (best) moments.

Obsolete: Ryuk/Light//Rated T. Summary: Light lives all his life in the span of a day, but Ryuk will live that day over an eternity.

Beholder’s Eye: Lawlight//Rated M. Summary: Light's rudely awoken and seemingly kidnapped to face his execution, but all is not what it seems.

One of a Pair [with @ghostoftasslehoff​]: Lawlight//Rated M. Fencing AU. Summary: Light has just quit the To-Oh fencing team and the team Captain, Ryuzaki, will do just about anything to provoke him to come back, including challenging Light to an illegal duel.

Restitution: Lawlight//Rated T. Summary: L tries to pay Light a salary for his work on the Task Force to assuage the prickling of guilt he feels, but that’s not what Light wants.

Kodama [with @ghostoftasslehoff​]: Lawlight//Rated T. Summary: Seven years after L’s death, Light feels compelled to visit his grave and take solace under the strange, dead tree nearby. L’s watching from Mu and takes residence in the sacred tree, changing it and Light, who can’t see him.

Still Life: Light/Light//Rated T. Summary: Light stumbles upon a painting that he bears an uncanny resemblance to and discovers a magical secret behind who was cursed to dwell within it for 300 years. It might just be the best luck of his life (or the worst).

Dark Horse [with art by @daathdweller]: Gen fic. Linda left Wammy's House for a brilliant art career, but never forgot how she'd been passed over as one of L's successors. She decides to work in the shadows as the detective L2 when a new Kira appears in 2019, moving fast to tackle the case that the 'official' L seems content to ignore. Roger told her art never helped solve a case, but he was wrong. 

Technology Liaison: Light & Ryuk. Light gets curious about what the Death Note is really made of and asks Ryuk. What happens when paper becomes obsolete in the increasingly digital world?

Yosuzume [with art by @ikathemadhatter​]: Beyond-centric//Rated T. Summary: Beyond’s shinigami eyes have always set him apart and given him knowledge no human should possess. His obsession with divining and controlling the future has led him to develop his own rituals, which weave themselves into his life and the events of the LABB case.

Names and Distant Things [with art by @ikathemadhatter]: Beyond/L// Rated T. Summary: Beyond knew when L was planning to visit Wammy’s House because a padlock would appear on the second refrigerator in the kitchen. A day or so later, a green Aston Martin would roll up the long, oak-lined driveway in the dead of night, headlights off and practically invisible. Not to Beyond, though; his strange eyes had always seen more than others could-- names and distant things; an antique car in the darkness or the date someone will die.

Copper and Silver: Beyond/L//Rated M. Magician AU. Summary: There had always been two types of magic in the world. One was quite real but elusive, and more of a curse than a blessing on those who could channel it. The other was the magic of mankind-- the sleight of hand or memory trick, the careful distraction or well-placed mirror. It was the business of the famed illusionist Lazarus, also (un)known as L Lawliet, that no one in his audience should ever know the difference.

For fics before 2020, check out my AO3 (ZombieJesus) here!