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#and maybe because shark week is almost upon me
navybrat817 · 1 year
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My teammate sent me this in the hopes that she found a song I hadn't heard before. Not only do I know it, I didn't appreciate it until I gave it a recent listen.
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blackwidow-bby · 3 years
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Positions - Marvel Ladies x Fem!Sub!Reader
Summary: You're a sex worker and you've been hired by a new client for a "group activity".
genre: smut(18+)
pairings: Maria Hill x fem!reader, Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader, Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader, Carol Danvers x fem!reader, Yelena Belova x fem!reader
warnings: D/S dynamics, face slapping, spanking, strap on use, degradation, orgy, big ole lesbian train, oral, throat f*cking, name calling, degradation, thigh riding, fingering
AN: I am...well not a pro at writing dirty things especially not with multiple people but I hope you all enjoy regardless!
I don't own any marvel characters!!
Your assistant had just called you into her room. Your week had been slow but fruitful. Normally, it would be a regular client for the month, nothing to sweat over. Your thoughts started to run over who it could be. Maybe Mr. Dean, he usually calls on a Friday but you could've sworn you saw him two weeks ago. That didn't leave a lot of your regulars left to be requesting you as you knew their schedules like the back of your hand.
As if she could read your mind upon entering her space, she spoke, "Y/N, you have a call for a new client. Something about a friend requesting your services? The only thing is..." She hesitated almost thinking if she should tell you the rest of the details before she proceeded. "Well, it's for a group. You don't have to take up the offer if you're uncomfortable with that. I can call her back and let her know you declined."
To tell the truth, the thought of it being a group of strangers did make you uncomfortable, but your assistant wouldn't put you into a situation without going through the proper protocols first. She knew a head count of how many, roughly where they all worked, and several phone numbers. It always helped to be extra safe in these situations where you could be overpowered.
"Who inquired?" you asked interestedly. "She goes by N.R., gave me a headcount of all of her friends that would be attending. There's not going to be any men there, but I guess 'more power in numbers' is still 'more power in numbers'." In all honesty, women gave you way less shit about certain things than men did. Hopefully they'd be way more understanding if you didn't want to do specific activities.
"Call her back and tell her I'll take the offer. Do you know how much she's paying?" Your assistant slid a little sticky note over to you as she dialed the number of one 'N.R.'. You swear you almost choked when you saw how much she offered for you. That was a lot of zeros compared to usual. You walked away to get a water from the mini-fridge while you vaguely listened in to your assistant's phone conversation.
Good.
Perfect.
Okay, I'll tell her to meet you there at 6:30.
Extra clothes, yes ma'am. Have a nice day.
"Hey Y/N, I've written down the address, floor, and room number. It's uh...a really high end hotel in New York City. She also said to bring an extra change of--" you interrupted her, "Extra clothes? I overheard." you started wondering what for? Dinner? Go out? "Uhm, yes, she said extra comfy clothes." Comfy? Was she expecting you to spend the night? You looked down at your watch to see how much time you had to get ready. 2 hours. It wasn't enough but you could make it work. "Alright then, I should go freshen up."
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An hour and a half later had found you briskly walking toward the extremely tall and very expensive looking hotel in the Upper East Side. You lived in Queens and while the distance wasn't very far, paired with the traffic, the feeling of unsettlement about being late to such a client was enough to make you almost hurl.
You made your way inside the lobby, barely looking at your surroundings. You wanted to get up to the room as quickly as possible without being noticed. "Excuse me," Could you ever be so lucky? "Are you here for Ms. Romanoff?" Who? That must be your clients last name. "She said she was expecting a guest soon." The lady was being extra kind to you, she had an inviting smile. You almost wanted to never lie to her. "Yes, I'm here to see Ms. Romanoff." you replied quietly. It felt like your voice would echo too hard around the warmly lit lobby. You thought it would break you to hear your own voice shrill around such a pristine room.
"Very well, I'll show you to her room." Your nerves began to spike more the higher up you went. It was as if every floor number on the elevator was the level of anxiety you started to feel. Your palms were sweating and you could've sworn your back was too. The lady just kept her eyes forward with a meek little smile. It took every fiber of your body to not explode your feelings all over that elevator.
Ding
The elevator stopped, of course she was in a penthouse suite. You rolled your eyes as how predictable this situation was playing out. The kind lady, who's name you definitely forgot to get, remained in the elevator as you walked out. "There's a number for room service if you ladies need anything." She sung out. "Thank you."
The walk to her door seemed to never end. Your feet were dragging like gravity was doing everything in its power to keep them on the ground. The air was getting hotter as time slowed in the short distance it took to reach her door. You rang the little buzzer and a melodic voice called beyond the frame.
"Coming!"
You could hear the light patter of a single set of feet. The knob then turned and revealed a stunning short redhead with bright eyes. You were certainly gawking at the sight of her but there was nothing you could do to pull your own attention away. She had a smirk on her face when she saw you staring but not saying anything. "You must be Y/N, it's very nice to meet you. Come in and lets get you introduced to everyone."
She reached out her hand to you and you took it gently. her palms were much colder than yours and her fingers were long and slender. her hair was shoulder length and fire-y. The room was massive, and clean. She had all of the blinds closed to keep any natural light and eyes from entering the den. Scanning the room some more you noticed a couple items around the room. Non-traditional furniture. It was going to be one of those events. There were also four other heads aside from the host's. She turned around once reaching the main room and faced you. "My name is Natasha, over there is Wanda," another read-head standing behind everyone else with a glass of wine in her hands, she lightly nodded, "...that is Carol in the middle," a blonde woman with a bright and bubbly smile. She seemed taller than the rest but she was also sitting down on a piece of equipment that will no doubt be used in a different way by you. Natasha gestured to a brunette, "...this is Maria," another tall and slender woman, didn't offer a smile but a simple wave to your direction. You were scared of her the most. "...and this is Yelena." A second blonde who's face was much more stoic than Maria's. You take it back, she scared you the most.
Natasha's hand unhooked from yours and made its way up your back to settle on the back of your neck. The pads of her fingers added slight pressure to the muscles there as if she could feel all of your tension in waves. You felt her lean in closer, her hot breath fanning your ear. "There's a bathroom in the hall to the right. I got a cute little outfit waiting for you." You could feel her soft lips smiling against the curve of your ear. the feeling made you shiver. You managed to follow her eyes and swiftly walk to the bathroom, closing the door behind you.
You looked around and found the outfit in question. It was sleek all black leather body suit with a halter neck. You lifted it up in your hands and rubbed the material under your fingers. Next to it sat a bottle of lubricant no doubt to get the body suit on. You got to work shedding the current clothes you had on and began to slide on the little leather number. It wasn't too tight but certainly snug against your frame. The only thing out of the ordinary besides the material was, you noticed, a tiny little zipper in between your legs. If unzipped would reveal your very private essence. The thought made you blush a little to yourself. After cleaning up, you made your way back to the room where the women had sat prior.
Since you calmed down a little, you took the opportunity to fully take in your surroundings. The hall was adorned in art more than likely as expensive as this room. Everything seemed darker than when you arrived. To your surprise when you entered the living room area, the room lighting was red as opposed to the normal LED lighting.
Natasha held her hand out to you again for you to take. You obliged her and she pulled you close into her side. Natasha's deft fingers traveled up and down your ribs before finding purchase on your backside. "You look like the most delicious treat. None of us can wait to eat you. Would you like a drink before we start?"
The other women started moving closer almost circling you like sharks. "Yes please." Natasha poured you a glass as she went on, "We should go over some rules before we start. If at any point you feel overwhelmed, anxious, or hurt, the safe word is 'Heart'. We all stop what we're doing and will help you. If at any point you are gagged, two taps to the closest person will get all of us to cease as well. Because of those rules you will not be bound and gagged simultaneously...at least not this session." She ends her rules with a wink toward you. All of these women truly were stunning and it piqued your interest to know what they could possibly be capable of.
Wanda came closest to you first, she pulled the wine glass away from your lips and replaced it with her own lips. Holding your hand with the glass close to her chest and cupping your cheek with the other. Her lips were sinfully soft as was her kiss. She felt delicate and gentle against you, she almost seemed to not match any of this situation. Natasha took your wine glass away while you continued to make out with Wanda, who let her hands roam lower down your body. Your own hands moved behind her neck. Another set of arms wrapped around you from behind. "You're such a pretty kitten." They nibbled on your ear making you separate from Wanda to see who it was. Carol smiled down at you and found the very lips that left Wanda. You moaned into her mouth at feeling how she controlled and dominated the kiss, very different from Wanda's passion. Wanda moved down to kissing your neck and shoulder.
You could hear other giggles in the back. Natasha kept her eyes trained on you as Yelena and Maria began to touch each other in the mean time waiting for you. After a few minutes of watching her friends have all of the fun, Natasha made her way over to you, Carol, and Wanda. She pulled the other red-head back by her locks and pressed her lips to hers in a searing kiss. You heard Wanda moan out into the other woman's mouth next to you causing you to release your own into Carol. This made the blonde swiftly lift you up and wrap your legs around her waist. She brought you over to a nearby bench and kissed you harder. All of the sounds you were making began to rile her up.
"I'm not sure which one of us is more excited to have you here, pretty girl. All I know is I can't wait to ruin that pretty pussy of yours." You moaned at her words and yanked her back down into another kiss. Her words went straight to your core igniting a fire that had been waiting to burn. You made a mental note to find whoever recommended you to these ladies and thank them heavenly. Carol sunk her hips between your legs and began grinding against you seeking the friction she wanted so badly.
Even though the leather was a new material to you, you could still feel the faux member that rested in her pants; Carol was packing. This caused you to move your hands down to her pants to tear the buttons away. The tall blonde grabbed your hands and smirked, "Allow me." She stood to her full height and slowly removed the black jeans she was wearing and revealed her long, girthy strap she had been hiding. Your eyes widened which made Carol giggle. She sunk to her knees where she seductively pulled the zipper on your suit down. She held your eye contact until you saw them shift to behind you. Natasha and Wanda had pulled away long enough to see what Carol was doing and decided to join again. The two red-heads began to undress themselves where Natasha also sported a rather large strap but not Wanda.
In your distraction upon noticing the other women join in, Carol took to opportunity to shove he face into your pussy. You moaned out loud at the contact. Her tongue quickly lapping at your clit and sinking lower to curl inside you. Her ministrations were making you squirm on the bench. She reached up to hold your hips down. "Stay still kitten. Gotta get you ready for our cocks." Eating you out was an art to her. Every move she made, made you more and more wet. Natasha slid her fingers into your open mouth. You sucked on them harshly slipping your own tongue in-between her fingers and coating them in your saliva. Nat removed her fingers and started to rub them between Wanda's folds.
"Eat her out for me, malysh." Natasha requested. You looked up at Wanda as she slowly lowered herself over your wanting mouth. Your head went fuzzy upon seeing all of the quiet red-head's intimacy. Your tongue immediately poked out to welcome her to you. She let out a soft moan and slowly began to grind herself against your mouth. Carol was growing impatient watching you eat out the other woman and feeling you grow more aroused in her mouth. The blonde stood to position the tip at your entrance rubbing the head up and down your slit before she slammed her length in all at once. You yelped against Wanda's soaked cunt sending vibrations straight to her clit.
The whole scene was turning Natasha on more and more so she began stroking her own member, hoping to find some friction. The other two women walked over to join the rest of the group partially feeling left out. Carol continued to slam into you at a rather fast and rough pace. The tip of her strap hitting that blissful spot inside of you with every thrust. All of your moans and whines brought Wanda closer to her orgasm. She came hard in your mouth before she got up and was replaced by Natasha's own cock.
"Suck kotenok. Mommy's getting restless." Carol did not stop chasing not only her own high but yours. You could hear her grunting from below you. All of this attention was turning you on more than you think you've ever been in your life. Even though one hand wrapped around Natasha's strap and the other gripped Carol's wrist on your hips, you were finding it hard to keep blowing Nat. Carol moved her other hand down to your clit. "You better cum for me you little slut."
And you did; hard.
Carol continued her pace and upon watching you come undone, did so herself. Three quick thrusts and she was spent. She released the most guttural moan before her body was replaced by another blonde. Yelena had this look in her eyes like she wanted to make you pay for every wrong you never committed. She removed her clothing and sat right on your bent leg. At this point Natasha was fucking your mouth deeper and deeper. Needing to ground yourself you wrapped your hands around her thighs. Yelena began to rub herself against your thigh. You could feel how wet and warm she was, her hand sliding up and down your slit collecting your cum to rub your clit in tight circles. Your whines didn't stop especially when you were already beginning to feel another orgasm approaching. Yelena slipped her fingers inside you, finding your g-spot with accuracy. With every thrust of her fingers she hit that same spot over and over. tears started to run down your face with the feeling of Natasha in your mouth and Yelena in your core. Natasha gave one last thrust before she pulled out.
Maria shoved three of her fingers to the back of your throat. She giggled when you gagged around them. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at being finger fucked by the two women. "You're not allowed to cum before I do, else Natty here give you a nice punishment while I ride your face." Yelena only made the threat to turn you on more, but part of you was hoping it was true. It was hard, Yelena knew exactly what she was doing with her fingers but you could feel her slick slide down the sides of your thigh. God you hope she was close because you certainly were. Maria replaced her fingers with her lips and she kissed you hard sliding her tongue along yours. The brunette smiled against your lips when she felt your whimpers in her mouth. Yelena just kept slamming her fingers harder inside of you and rubbing herself quicker. Her breaths got faster and more shallow and as she came, a couple seconds later so did you. Your body shook with the most intense tremors, but Yelena couldn't fault you. She did cum before you, and something about it being in close tandem with hers turned her on a lot more than she would admit. You let out a soft whine when the coolness of the air hit your soaked thigh.
Maria left your mouth and moved between your legs. She put one leg over your left and the other under your right and brought your centers together. "You're a pretty little slut. I want to ruin you so bad." Maria started out ruthless. Her grinding was fast and hard as if she had been waiting to cum for weeks. You felt her in her entirety sliding against your own. The feeling started to overwhelm you. Carol took your face in her hand and rubbed her thumb along your bottom lip. "Open up you little slut."
You obeyed her and opened your mouth sticking your tongue out. At this point you were a blubbering mess and all the ladies were loving it. Carol spit into your mouth before shoving her cock in. "I saw you taking Nat like a pro, so I know you can take me." At least her pace wasn't rough but it certainly was quick. Your gags around Carol was making Maria closer to her release. She leaned forward to angle herself differently against you and put her hand around her throat. She could practically feel Carol's cock fucking your face. Sweat was running down your forehead and your hair clung to every part of your body it could touch. You were close to being spent and you never looked more beautiful this way. Maria's hand tightened, her grunts were heavy. "Such a good little fuck toy. I'm so close baby." You didn't think it was possible for Maria to go any harder but she did. She came with a loud cry and slowed her hips down to ride out her orgasm. You felt her wetness mix with yours. Maria's hand stayed for a couple more minutes, entranced by feeling Carol deep in your throat. The tall blonde slapped your face a couple times before she pulled out. You were too busy catching your breath, you didn't see Natasha move by your feet. She lifted you up and turned you over on your stomach with your legs and arms hanging off the bench. Just when you were hoping it was over, you forgot that Natasha never officially had her turn with you. She rested her strap on your lower back as she ran her cool hands in an attempt to soothe your burning skin. Almost mocking you for being the one to give you the final blow. Wanda walked up to you again. She ran her soft fingers in your hair and moved the stuck strands out of your face. Your breathing was heavy and your body was trembling. Wanda's fingers moved down to cup your jaw and she lifted your head. Tapping the side with her pointer finger, you got the silent request to open your mouth for her. In unison, as Wanda brought her cunt to your mouth, Natasha slid her strap inside you completely bottoming out. Nothing but incoherent noises left your mouth at being filled so sinfully. Wanda gripped your jaw harder as she rubbed her intimacy against your mouth for a second time. You lazily kept your tongue out to try your best to accommodate Wanda's wanting. Natasha on the other hand, had been waiting very patiently for her time and now that she got it she was going to make the best of it. She grabbed your hands in her own and pulled them behind your back to make it easier for her to pound deep into your cunt. When you felt her hit somehow deeper your eyes rolled back. Wanda picked up her pace just as Natasha did, both red-heads moving in perfect synch at opposite ends of your being. A jolt of paint hit your right asscheek igniting a new spark and effectively waking you up even if only for a minute. With every thrust administered, Natasha rained a hand alternating each side of your ass. All of this was sending more and more feelings to your core. You will not be lasting long if these two kept going the way they were. You could feel Wanda fumbling, she was about to come for the second time tonight. Natasha continued to get more rough inside of you until you felt the knot inside of you burst. You came hard around Natasha groaning against Wanda's own cunt. The sight caused Wanda herself to not be able to keep her composure and she came with a scream against your tongue. You felt her pussy pulsing with her orgasm on your mouth. As soon as Wanda backed away from your face, Nat yanked your arms back harder to push herself deeper than you thought was possible. You were screaming, a sweaty broken mess, absolutely spent in this five star hotel. Every thrust pushed harder against that spongey spot inside you. You could feel another earth shattering orgasm approach hoping it would be the last. Natasha's thrusting didn't let up, she was desperate to cum. She was moaning over you with every hit. You yelled her name as you came harder than you had before that whole session. Watching you absolutely spent around her
member, Natasha came just as hard with her final thrust. She stayed inside you to ride out the rest of her high before she carefully pulled out. Looking down she could see wetness all over the bench and her legs. Nat smiled to herself at being the one to make you squirt everywhere like a silent victory. Allowing you to lay and collect your bearings, the red-head began to clean up the room.
There wasn't much you could make out in your state, but you could partially hear Natasha thanking all of the women for coming over before hearing the door open and close through the ringing in your ears. Your were shaking, your whole body felt blissfully weak. The red-head padded over softly to your spent and soaked body and picked you up carefully to place you in her arms bridal style. Your mind was in a war with yourself between wanting just a little bit more or to just go to sleep. You couldn't even open your eyes at this point.
Natasha had brought you to the bathroom to help you clean up and as she moved about, she kept you in her arms. She made sure to hold you as she turned on the faucet and sit on the edge of the tub. As the water filled the tub, Nat moved between rubbing your back and gently caressing your cheek. Once the tub was filled up enough for the both of you, she picked you up again and cautiously lowered the both of you into the hot relaxing water. You couldn't do anything but mumble and cursed yourself for the state you were in even though it wasn't your fault. You desperately wanted to think your gracious host for a life changing night but nothing could come out. Natasha shushed you sweetly. Her time wasn't done until you were well taken care of in her company.
You don't know how long you were in the bathroom, hell you don't even know when you fell asleep as Natasha washed the night away from both of your bodies. Clearly still in no position to be able to make it back to your home, the red-head dried both of you off and brought you to the large bedroom. You had come back into partial consciousness long enough to feel the soft sheets and the plush comforter of this heavenly bed you were being gifted to rest on.
Natasha lowered you down and climbed on the other side before pulling you into her. She lifted your head to lay on her chest so she could easily hold you and play with your hair. She stayed awake until she heard your breathing even out again, signaling that you had fallen asleep again since the bath. She placed a soft kiss to your hairline before succumbing to sleep herself with a blissed smile on her face.
She'd definitely be requesting you again.
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AN: Not sure how I feel about this but yeah this is my wack attempt at something extra dirty.
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helpimhyperfixating · 3 years
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Captive Together - Mer!Jotaro x Mer!Reader P1
Okay, fair warning, this oneshot is LONG. Like, really really long. I divided it into 4 parts but still every chapter is a monster. I edited it best I could, but when it takes a whole day to do so, you can get tired and unattentive, lol. This whole thing got out of hand and it is weird, but I like it. With that out of the way, enjoy some Mer!Joot 😌
Part 1  |  Part 2  |  Part 3  |  Part 4
Word Count: 8531
Opening your eyes, you winced a little at the stinging jab of pain that shot through your abdomen. With sluggish movements, you drifted forward until you could feel your hand hit glass. 
Right. You were in that human facility...
How did you end up in this mess again?
- - - -
“Quick! Go! Go!!” Your voice was urgent and a little panicked, scaring the two pups in front of you to do as you asked. They didn’t know who you were, where you came from, and if you were even able to be truly trusted, but the looming shadow closing in on your location and the terrifying rumble and roar of - what they thought was - a shark was enough to spur them into doing whatever you said.
You had just been swimming by, travelling from place to place looking for a place to live, maybe even a pod who’d accept you. And that was when you spotted the two pups, all by themselves and playing with the sand on the ocean floor, no adults in sight.
Seeing how big and mischievous their grins were, you quickly realised they had most likely snuck away from their pod; bringing back some memories from when you had done that yourself. 
With a good-natured sigh, you started to swim over, deciding to take them back to their pod before something would happen.
“Hey, you two.” You clicked out as you approached them calmly, a warm smile on your face. Upon the sound of a voice, the two - they couldn’t have been older than 1,5 years - shot their heads up, eyes comically widening. “What’re you playing?” You asked as you bridged the remaining gap, letting yourself float down to sit on the seabed close to them about two meters away; giving them a little bit of space yet also sitting close enough, to show them you meant no harm.
“We’ve never seen this kind of sand before.” The pup with a pretty, dark blue tail and impressive hairdo spoke up a little meekly and your smile widened just a little bit more at the sweet answer, making both kids relax a bit.
“So you decided to come out here and play in it?”
“Mhm!” The other pup, with a darker grey tail and two markings running crossed down his face, hummed happily, his voice sounding gruff as if he had spent a week in the Red Sea, even at his young age.
“Soo, you didn’t sneakily sneak away from your pod and parents to go exploring the big blue and happened to stumble across this seabed with sand you hadn’t seen before, right?” You questioned cheekily, leaning your chin in your hand as you raised a teasing eyebrow.
Both their eyes widened a bit and you chuckled while the pup with the hairdo curled in a bit on himself. “Are we in trouble?” 
“Not with me, no.” You smiled, making him come out of his shell a bit again. “With your parents however? I can’t say.” Now they were both making themselves small, guilty looks on their faces. “C’mon, I’m sure it will be fine.” You reassured them as you pushed yourself off the seabed, swimming over to the two pups until you were in right by them and placing a hand on either of their backs. “It’s best to get you back to your pod now though.”
“O-Okay.”
You hummed a little and pushed them gently to start swimming, one on either side of you. You looked between them both, seeing the anxious looks on their faces and decided to try and distract them a bit as you chaperoned them back. You happened to have noticed a pod took up residence in this area and these two smelled like they came from it, so you knew where to go. You also knew that pod was quite a ways away so you had to find a way to fill the time anyways.
“So, what are your names?”
“I-I’m Josuke, that’s Okuyasu.”
You hummed a little, giving them both another smile. “So, how long ago did you sneak out?”
“Uh, the sun was about there.” Josuke pointed up to where the sun had stood in the sky when they left, filtering through the surface of the water at an angle that told you they snuck out about an hour ago.
“Hm, well, maybe no one in your pod has noticed your absence yet and I can help you two sneak back in!” You started in a secretive voice, making both pups perk up. Okuyasu drifted a little closer to you and grabbed your hand, Josuke seeing and doing the same on your other side, nodding happily at you.
To be honest, you highly doubted no one had noticed their absence, but swimming with two anxious pups was something you would rather avoid. Not only because you feared your lack of experience would make you unable to handle it, but also because anxious pups meant slow pups, and matching their pace when they were anxiously swimming in dread for what was to come was about the most nail biting experience one could have.
“So, why did you swim out so far th-“ whatever you were going to ask was interrupted when your ears picked up on the distant sounds of a motorboat. 
Your eyes widening in alarm, the two pups noticed the warning signals you automatically gave off and soon picked up on the noise as well, seeing as the boat was speeding closer very fast. 
Now, humans were aware of the existence of Mer, but this was supposed to be a protected area. So if there were humans here, especially those with the loud motors? That could only mean bad news.
“Quick! Go! Go!!” You wrenched your hands from their grips before starting to push on their backs, trying to urge them to go.
Okuyasu let a feared whine escape from his throat while Josuke immediately employed the tactic he had been taught to use whenever in danger: call out.
“Shark! Shark!” He trilled out in a panic, the trills and clicks of his voice carrying a lot further through the water than at his normal pitch and volume, soon joined by Okuyasu in the same fashion as he remembered what he was supposed to do.
While you were glad they had their security systems in order, you knew how clever humans were, especially those who went against the rules set in place, and you feared that they might hear the two pups.
“Ssh, ssh, I’ll keep you safe from the shark! Let’s hide between those rocks, come on!!” You managed to grab both their little hands again and frantically dragged them along with you as you swam full speed towards the rocks that sat about forty meters away, both Josuke and Okuyasu too shocked by the sudden speed they were being pulled along with to keep shouting warnings in panic.
It was dangerous to get to the rocks. The boat was almost right above you by now and to get to safety, you had to swim with the pups underneath the belly of the thing. The water was crystal clear today and the chances of being seen were high.
Safety for the pups was your one and only priority though and so you gunned it.
With an incredible speed, you shot through the water, making full use of your tail as you dragged the poor kids with you, them trying their best to flap their tails and help swim - although it was mainly for decoration and show by now.
Forty meters,
Thirty five,
Thirty,
You were now swimming directly underneath the boat and you tilted your head, keeping a wary eye on the thing as you saw it suddenly stop and rock, presumably from movement from the humans on top.
Twenty five,
A shape on the boat, barely able to be made out through the distortion of the water, tipped you off to the incoming danger and you immediately pulled Josuke and Okuyasu in, pushing them forward with all your might right before a sharp and searing pain shot past your left side.
From the boat, someone had thrown a harpoon down, the speed and angle serving to graze your side, creating a nasty cut on your waist that ran from there, diagonally over part of your stomach before the thing embedded itself in the sea floor.
A sharp and searing pain came in waves but you refrained from calling out, only hissing through your teeth with a small grunt before you shook your head, ignoring it for now as you saw a rope was attached to the end of the sharp stick. It was slowly wrenched free from the sand and you wasted no time in shooting past it, scooping Okuyasu and Josuke up in your arms as you rushed past them, seeing as they were clinging onto each other in shock as they saw you being hit.
“You’re bleeding!” 
“It’s okay!” You chirped back over the rush of water coming past as you tried to swim as fast as possible with the pain, leaving a trail of blood behind as you went.
Fifteen,
Ten,
Five,
“Okay, hide behind those rocks and stay there no matter what happens okay? Don’t come out until someone from your pod comes and gets you, do you understand?!” You shook them both a little, maybe not being the best course of action but you had to make your point clear.
“O-Okay!”
“Don’t make a sound either!” You called back over your shoulder as you started swimming away, secretly looking to see if they were well hidden and stayed put as you asked them to. You saw the both of them look at you with fear and anxiousness, peeking from behind the rocks, and sent them the last best reassuring smile you could muster before turning to look forward again and booking it. You were gonna save those pups if it cost you your damn life.
- - - -
Your fuzzy memory finally began to clear up a bit and you remembered how another boat came and chased the hunter’s one away. You had led the hunter’s boat away from the pups but got trapped in a cove, only for the new boat with science humans to come to your aid.
Upon seeing your injury, they got very concerned and offered to take you with them so they could treat you and help you.
Despite their honeyed words and friendly appearance though, there was one blaring warning signal. These humans that were claiming to trying to ‘help you’, smelled exactly like the ones from the boat that had injured you. Which meant these people had interacted; and not just in passing or a small falling out, no they spent a while with each other to have the scent rub off that heavily. 
In other words, these were no friends to you.
Despite knowing this, you had agreed to their offer. Those pups were still nearby, what could you have done? Maybe if they took you along they’d be satisfied, and never realise there were more Mer nearby. And so you allowed them to take you.
-
“Good news! Today the bandages come off and we are planning to transport you to a bigger tank while you further recover!” One of the humans you had come to see a little more often in your past two days in this tiny tank approached, that easily recognisable false smile on his face. Whenever he approached like that, there was something else behind it. Yet, you pretended to not notice, perking up in happiness and sloshing around in your tank like an excited puppy despite the pain that brought.
“For me?” You asked. Your human English was a little rusty and sounded somewhat garbled, which was no surprise given how you had to use completely different parts of your vocal cords to speak it, but at least it was understandable.
“Yes!” He grinned before stepping even closer. “And! Inside there is a surprise! Around the same time as we found you, we found another Mer, stuck in a fishing net. They’re in the tank you will be transferred to today!” He sounded genuinely happy this time and you realised with a bit of horror he probably saw it all as a big experiment. Most likely wanting to see how two of the same species reacted upon meeting. “It’s that one over there!” He pointed behind himself to a large tank on the opposite end of the large room.
You had noticed this tank almost immediately when you first got to this facility. After all, why were you stuffed into a tiny tank that was more fitted to fit an octopus rather than the large tank that was available right there? But if it housed another Mer then that was logical. Probably a bigger Mer than you as well.
You had seen the scientists hover around it but you never saw any creature inside when you looked at it.
Would it be a male or female waiting for you in there? Given the man’s excitement however, you had a hunch. All you could say was you hoped they hadn’t been injured by the humans to bring in like you were.
- - - -
You spent the rest of the day just trying everything in your power to annoy the ever living fuck out of the scientists around.
You were in a small glass tank, barely big enough to let you stretch your tail out fully and with an open top, allowing you to communicate.
Sloshing around and making water spill over the tank was one of your favourite things to do, your goal to make the papers in the hands of the scientists wet or to make them slip and slam a few teeth out on the floor. If they glare at you, you just acted like it was completely involuntary, having pain in your injury, or the need to move being the cause of you sloshing and splashing so much.
Your next method of annoying scientists was: throwing the small ball they had given you directly to their heads. It was a small yellow thing, apparently filled with air so that it would float on the water. And just the perfect size to lob at someone’s head.
Of course, if they turned around angry, ball in hand, you’d act as if it was all a game. All a game your dumb and simple mind could come up with. And so the scientists just let it happen, picking up the ball and begrudgingly returning it to you every time so you wouldn’t start sadly whining like some puppy.
And that was exactly what your goal was; to convince them you were no smarter than a seal.
Of course, you had the ability of speech, but you intentionally kept your vocabulary in the low. Talking a bit like a pup, with missing or incorrectly pronounced words while the rest of your behaviour mirrored it.
You smiled a lot, indulging the scientists in questions about Mer life that you answered ‘as best you could’ while in reality you were stringing lie after lie after lie. You pretended to be their friend, just like they did to you. What comes around, gets around, after all.
Sometimes though, when you were talking to the humans, you felt as if there were eyes on you. And not the scientist eyes or the camera eyes, but angrier ones.
-
As the morning bled into noon, you noticed how warily the scientists were being around the big tank. It was open at the top same as yours and reached until about the human’s midriff, but the rest of the tank disappeared into the floor for it was probably a lot deeper than it seemed to you if there was another Mer in there that you’d never even seen before.
But, noticing how hesitant the humans were to stick their head over the glass and look down, you figured you’d test them a little. 
No one was really paying attention to- or around you, so you picked up your little yellow ball - the only entertainment you had - and tested its weight a few times before chucking it so hard and so far that it soared over everyone’s heads and plopped right in the bigger tank.
As it landed, you cheered as if it had been your childish goal all along before expectantly looking at the humans. They were, after all, expected to bring it back to you.
Much to your internal delight, you watched how the humans looked back at you in horror and disbelief. It all but confirmed your suspicions that whoever was in there, was very much not happy. And different from you, they decided to go the aggressive route.
When none of the scientists made a move to retrieve your ball for you, you started to make a little whining noise in the back of your throat, making puppy eyes and starting to look all sad.
If the Mer in there indeed went the aggressive route, that meant that your plan was still in full swing. For, if they only exuded aggression, the scientists wouldn’t necessarily see many signs of higher intelligence. They would most likely chock it up to animal instinct instead of genuine anger. Which meant you could continue playing as dumb as you liked without them getting suspicious.
“It’s okay! I’ll, uh... go get it for you!” One of the scientists spoke up towards you and you perked up a little, gripping the edge of your tank and pushing up a bit to mock excitement.
Curiously, you watched as he went to grab a long net on a stick. Was it not within arms reach? 
You watched as he walked back over to the tank and warily started inching the pole towards the ball. The entire thing shook with nervousness and you watched in awe as suddenly, out of nowhere, a large Mer shot up, slashing through the invading item and breaking it clean in half before disappearing below the floor again in a flash.
The scientist screamed in fear as the pole got cut clean through, the net falling down into the water before sinking, while one of the other humans went to comfort the scared one.
That was the best thing you had seen in all your time being here.
“What has been said about unauthorised interactment with the large tank?!” A large booming voice suddenly sounded from the door the humans constantly walked in and out of and you, together with all the scientists, turned your heads towards it.
“S-She threw her ball in there, I was just trying to get it back like protocol says!”
“She can go get it herself. We’re transferring her right now.”
All eyes turned to you with that and you shrunk a little, lowering yourself into the water until only your eyes shyly peeked out. Somehow you had a bad feeling about this.
- - - - 
Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad! BAD!
You were dangling in mid air on a crane or contraption, some sort of harness put around you and painfully rubbing against your wound. Mers healed faster than humans but your wound was still very much present and open and painful. Did they completely forget you had that or something?? They were even supposed to take off the bandaging today and they didn’t! Although right now it was your only protection from excruciating pain.
Your tail barely had any support and was basically dangling in mid-air, held up only by the fact and grace of being attached to you and your attempt of using your abdominal muscles to keep it steady. Unfortunately for you, that was where your wound was as well, so WAHEY!
You were cursing up a storm as the crane moved you across the room, hovering over the floor as if you were flying. To the scientists, it just sounded like a bunch of panicked clicks and trills, but for you, you were using language so colourful, it would make anyone blush.
Water dripped from you like stalactites in a wet cave and the only satisfaction you had in this moment was that it would make the floor a little slippery for the scientists, hopefully with at least one falling on their face. After what seemed like an excruciatingly long time but was only a few minutes, you were dangling over the larger tank. 
Your knuckles were white as you gripped onto the harness holding you up. You looked down and noticed how big it actually was. As you tried to gauge the depth from above the water however, the support holding you up clicked loose and you fell down into the tank, harness and all.
Thankfully, you managed to angle yourself to dive in at least a little gracefully instead of just belly flop in - which would be very bad from that height and with your injury.
As you fell into the water you had your arms protectively shielded over your head and your eyes screwed shut, but now you hesitantly blinked them open, bringing your arms down as you sunk down a tiny bit more before stopping.
Looking to your right, you were surprised to see several scientists looking through the glass. Apparently there was a room a floor lower which gave them perfect view of the big tank and the happenings inside it. They all had clipboards and notes and whatever, ready to record and write down everything that was about to happen.
That was the last thought you could really give it, for you suddenly saw something large and fast move from the bottom of the tank, all the way up to you.
Curling in on yourself on instinct, you looked up only to be met by one of the biggest and most intimidating Mer you had ever seen. His torso was in proportion to you but his tail was absolutely massive, almost twice the size of yours. It was strong and powerful looking, sleek black and probably about four or four and a half meters in length while his torso himself was impressive as well, muscle and raw power screaming from every inch of him.
How in the fuck were those scientists ever able to capture him?
His face was set in a glare and you instantly averted your eyes, displaying submissiveness as you turned your head and bowed it a little.
Now, you had wanted to display submissive behaviour from the beginning, just to keep your act up, no matter what kind of Mer was in here, but when you opened your mouth to try and talk and he growled in warning, you immediately slammed it shut. This shark Mer made it very easy. 
After a few more seconds of him glowering at you, you opted for safety and abruptly turned around, swimming down as fast as you could to the bottom of this 20-meter deep tank and shooting into the massive skull that sat there. You had to struggle to fit through the eye, the harness still on you hooking against it and hindering you even more, but with some squeezing and manoeuvring, you managed to get inside.
Looking out of one of the eyes, you saw he hadn’t really moved but was still glaring at you before letting out a ‘Tch’ and casually turning to the side, languidly swimming away and down to the corner opposite of the one you were in. 
There was a thick, white, concrete column in the middle of the tank, impeding your vision of him as he disappeared behind it.
Letting out the breath you were holding, you closed your eyes for a second before inhaling the water around you. It felt much cleaner and more crisp than the stuffy tank you had been forced to sit in, though the scent of the other Mer was very present as well. 
Looking down at yourself, you hissed a little and cursed out the humans as you grabbed hold of the harness and lifted it as far away from the wound on your side and stomach as possible. 
The skull you were in provided cover yes, but it was also half buried in sand and you barely had any room to move or even breathe, let alone try to get that damn harness off. Going out while the shark Mer was around and wary of you seemed like a bad idea however so you just stayed put, opting to wait until night before getting out and trying to get the damn thing off.
So, in the time you were waiting, you decided to try and figure out what the fuck kind of skull you were in. It was slanted and half buried in sand, elongated jaw with big round eye sockets. It sure as hell wasn’t any animal you knew of. You even started doubting if it was a real animal at all. When you touched it it definitely didn’t feel like bone at least.
Several hours passed like that and you finally peeked your head out the eyehole again. 
The tank itself was not too bad. The bottom was filled with sand and rocks, water plants and seaweed and such sticking out and growing from it, making it look rather natural. 
With some effort, you squeezed yourself out of the eyehole again, hissing as you scraped your wound before settling on the sand right in front of the skull and starting to wriggle and tug at the harness.
Why did the humans do it like this? Weren’t they supposed to take it off? Or were they so afraid of your new tank-mate that they just decided ‘fuck it, you’re on your own’?
Aggravated, you attempted to pull it over your head. Unsuccessful. 
You tried to unclasp it. The clasps are at the back where you can’t reach. Unsuccessful.
You attempted to pull it apart. You are not strong enough. Unsuccessful. 
By now you were running out of options and just violently tugging at the constricting thing. It sat over your gills on your neck, making it hard to breathe - though that didn’t stop you from spitting every curse in the book at the scientists who were undoubtedly still watching, even if the glass where they stood earlier was as dark as the night. 
A flutter of the water suddenly reached your ears and you snapped your head up to see the shark Mer quickly swimming towards you, angry and with a murderous look in his eye. 
Under optimal circumstances you would have hidden somewhere he couldn’t fit, like the skull. Unfortunately for you, you were wearing a harness and also wouldn’t be able to get inside fast enough. 
With not many options left, you darted to the left, quickly swimming away. Taking a glance back, you gasped when you saw he was in hot pursuit. With his larger tail he was quickly gaining but you shot to the side, cutting the corner around the concrete pillar in the middle as much as possible.
Looking to the left briefly, you spotted a corner where the sand was more tailored than everywhere else, a large indent where a body had been resting. 
That was all the time you got to look at it however, since you were already rounding the pillar again to show the skull you had been hiding in. 
Right now, you cursed yourself for darting. There was no way you could outswim him. You should have just rushed into the skull back there or stayed still, hoping he wouldn’t tear you apart. Now, all you could do was try to get back in the skull.
That was a vain hope however, as he had already caught up with you. 
Your blood froze as his right arm curled around your waist, ready to grab. Yet before he did, he hesitated. Instead, he allowed you to slip away a bit further before clamping his arm around your tail, tightly grabbing hold there as he forcefully stopped your momentum and yanked you back, grabbing your shoulders with both hands once in range.
In one smooth motion, he slammed you shoulders first into the concrete pillar before removing one hand and using the claws on it to rip straight through the harness still stuck on you. 
“Stop disturbing the water with your thrashing and sleep!” He growled out, a threatening undertone in his voice while his face was so close to yours.
You were breathing fast and staring back with wide eyes but it seemed he wanted an answer before he backed off so you nodded. 
Seemingly content with that, he rudely shoved you aside before lazily swimming away, flicking his hand to get rid of some excess fabric of the harness, his tail swishing side to side as he disappeared behind the pillar again to the corner he seemed to have taken up residence in, not looking back once.
You blinked a few times, looking at where he disappeared for some seconds before you swam up, swimming out of the harness with as little tail motion as possible.
Your breathing finally levelled and you turned back around, grabbing the remains of the harness and swimming over to the skull, draping the destroyed thing over a lip on the outside before squeezing into the eye. 
- - - -
Waking from your slumber, you got to work digging. 
You had a hunch this skull was going to be your home for the time being, so you decided to make a better way of entering and exiting. Digging through the sand laying in the mouth of the skull, you followed the elongated jaw and dug until you made a nice little opening that you wouldn’t have to squeeze through.
While you were digging, you noticed the other Mer swimming around. He avoided your little hovel but otherwise would not sit still. Making laps, checking the corners, running his hand along the wall of the tank as if testing it. 
Everything pointed to him wanting to get out of here, just as much as you did.
For now, you decided to keep staying out of his way though.
Right as you exited your skull, you were met with the powerful and intimidating form of the merman. There goes your plan. “What’re you doing?” He snapped at you almost, his tone curt and to the point.
You were still half inside but decided to just stay there like that, looking up at him. “I’m making an easier and less painful entrance.” You explained, motioning to the blood stained bandage on your side. It was designed to be worn under water but even so you doubted it was doing much good.
“Well, be more quiet, you’re making too much noise.” He growled before turning around, nearly hitting you with his tail fin as he went.
You were about one second away from giving him a well earned tap on said tail fin, but managed to refrain yourself at the last second.
“Wait.” You called out after him and he surprisingly enough stopped, looking back at you over his shoulder while you got out of the skull fully. “What’s your name?”
“...” 
He didn’t say anything for a second, just looking intently at you for a second, almost as if he was searching for something. Whatever he found he must have been satisfied with though.
“Jotaro.” 
A smile appeared on your face at his answer and that piqued his interest. For, when he had been watching you in the small tank opposite the room, you had smiled so much whenever the scientists interacted with you, and it had annoyed him to the point of making his blood boil. But now? Up close? He could see this was the first genuine smile you had given since arriving in this facility, even if it was timid.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N. Let’s get the fuck outta here soon, okay?”
Before anything else could be said, you heard your name being called from above. You had given it to the humans but that didn’t stop the pit of disgust when you heard it. Your face contorted for just a second before you steeled yourself and twisted it into the sweet innocent look the humans were used to.
Unknown to you, Jotaro warily watched you as you did that, sharp eyes following your form as you went to the skull and grabbed the harness laying on top before swimming up to the surface.
Shyly poking your head out of the water, you darted your eyes back and forth a bit before landing on the man standing right next to the edge of the tank who had called you.
“Good morning.” He smiled and you bobbed your head a bit in greeting. “Where is the harness?” He then asked and you let your hand drift to the surface, the broken harness in hand.
The man tutted a little but then stuck out his hand, taking it from you before moving it to his other hand and using the one in the water to motion you closer, pointing at the bandaging around your waist. “We didn’t have time to take a look at that yesterday. How about now, Hm?”
God how you wanted to bite his hand. Leave that damned harness on all night and then act like nothing happened? Claiming to just want to look at and take care of your wound again? It almost made you regret trying to trick them by acting dumb and nice.
Someone else didn’t have the gripe of trying to keep up the act of being friendly however.
Out of nowhere, Jotaro breached right in front of you, immediately diving back down and pushing you down with him while he violently smashed his tail against the scientists outstretched hand.
Said scientist screamed in pain as several of the bones snapped at the powerful strike, others rushing towards him while Jotaro just left the chaos behind and pushed you further down before abruptly letting go about halfway to the bottom.
“The fuck are you doing.” He snarled and you backed up a bit.
“What do you mean?”
“Interacting with them. What is your plan to get out of here that makes you need to get all friendly with them?” 
As he said that, you tried to steady your breathing. No matter his looks or his seeming temper, his mind was clearly not to be underestimated and already proved to be very sharp. He knew you were putting up an act.
“I’m trying to make them think I am no more intelligent than like, what? A four or three year old human?” You spoke, getting a little lost in thought thinking about human ages and their behaviours during it.
“Why.”
Jotaro’s voice snapped you out of it and you focused again.
“If they expect this level of intelligence from me-“ You kept your hand flat and stationary at the level of your bellybutton. “-they will tailor security measures and such around that level of intelligence. Humans like to cut corners. If they think I don’t know how to open a door, they won’t lock it.” You continued and Jotaro had his eyes narrowed at you. “So, when I suddenly show this level of intelligence-“ You moved your hand up and hovered it at the level of your neck. “-they won’t expect it and I’ll be able to get out of here while they try to figure out what happened.
Despite seemingly getting your explanation, Jotaro seemed truly revolted by the idea of buttering up the scientists.
Without another word, a frustrated rumble tumbled from his chest and he turned to the right, starting to swim away, back to his corner. But not before stopping once more and looking back at you. “Don’t let them touch you.” With that, he continued on his way.
Bringing your arm in, you held it to your chest as you watched him swim away.
- - - - 
About two days passed and during that, your communication with Jotaro had been minimal. You two more or less avoided each other - though there wasn’t any bad blood between you two.
Just now, a big slab of tuna had been lowered and - while you had planned to just wait until Jotaro was done - he seemed to have other plans. He sliced off a chunk, letting it drift down as if he didn’t notice it falling while he himself continued with what he had. Yet subtly, you could see him look at you, releasing one low click sound from deep within his chest. A non-verbal go-ahead that many leaders of a pod used; to show that it was for you.
Sending him a quick smile, you darted over and scooped up the meat from below him right before it could touch the floor. With that, you then turned around and went to the corner opposite of him. For once, Jotaro was not in his usual corner. And you were going to make full use of it by doing what you had been meaning to for the last few days.
Putting the tuna in your mouth and just holding it there, you started plucking the gigantic seaweed that grew from the bottom, slicing it at the soil with your claws until your arms were practically completely full.
Peeking your head around the pillar, you saw Jotaro still eating and thus silently yet quickly swam over to his corner.
The sand was bunched up in a small hill on one end, a deeper and bigger indent right in front of it, showing it was where Jotaro slept every night. There were some plants growing around it, but not many. None close enough that they would be able to bend in the current and annoy him as he tried to sleep at least. That was good.
Now, you knew sleeping on the sand was fine. You had been doing it yourself, even insulated and kept a little more warm because of your protective surrounding skull. And, while the heap of sand behind the dent was meant for the same purpose - to retain some body heat - you knew from experience that plants were way better at that.
So, you started placing the seaweed leaves on the sand indentation. One by one you placed them down, layering them over comfortably until it padded the entire space.
You were happy you picked a lot because you had underestimated how big Jotaro’s bedding would be, seeing he was quite massive as well.
Next came the tricky part. Getting the leaves to stick together and stay on the sand, paired with getting rid of all the prickly edges.
Opting to make sure it stayed in place first, you curled the edges of the leaves around the edge of the sand indent and buried it firmly in the grain, making sure to tuck it in well and good so that it would not let go. With that out of the way, you began chipping away at the sharp edges. 
You worked as fast as you could, wanting to be finished before Jotaro was done eating and would return here. 
Finally done with the snipping, you ran your hand across it, satisfied that there was no uncomfortable plant membrane sticking out anymore.
Onto the last step, you started with the hardest part: weaving the plants together. Cutting small incisions in the leaves with your nails, you started interlocking those cut sections, fitting them together like a puzzle until every leaf on the entire bed was interwoven.
You were almost done when you spotted movement out of the corner of your eye. Turning your head, you saw Jotaro swimming closer, a confused yet wary look on his face. 
In the blink of an eye you were already swimming away, booking it towards your skull and shooting inside with practiced ease. You were pretty sure Jotaro couldn’t fit through the mouth, so you felt relatively safe in case he got mad about you messing with his sleeping spot.
No angry sounds came however. 
- - - -
Several more days passed just like that. You had made a seaweed bed for yourself as well, stuffing it in the skull and spending quite some time digging a little further into the sand so that you would have a true little hovel. Because of this you realised the skull had no lower jaw, which allowed you to dig down into the sand, causing for even more insulation to keep yourself warm at night. Was it necessary? No. Did it feel great to sleep in a warm environment? You bet it did.
Your interaction with Jotaro was still bar to none. Although he did seem more accepting of you, no longer letting out a dangerous or angry rumble when you moved too much or splashed around a bit.
You had gone back to playing with your yellow ball, throwing it at the scientists heads - though they dodged it more easily now that their attention wasn’t divided between two tanks. Still, whenever you did hit one of them, it felt like a huge accomplishment. 
While pretending to play however, you took the opportunity to gather information. Pick up on what the scientists were saying, checking the tank walls while you were pretending to swim around as fast as you could - while in actuality you went only about half as fast. In particular, hopping up on top of the concrete column rewarded you with figuring out there were cameras in the thing. They were small, built in and probably very expensive.
So the scientists were watching your every move even if they weren’t watching.
You honestly felt terrible when you figured that out and had retreated back to your skull, not coming out for 28 hours, not even for food.
About thirteen days had passed since you first came here, and you still had no idea how to get out...
- - - -
To say the scientists of the research facility were in excited chaos and confusion that morning was an understatement. 
After nearly two weeks of no process at all with the Mer they captured - the two of them only avoiding each other as much as possible - they come in for work, only to see the two of them curled up in the male’s nest and sleeping together!?
“What the hell happened?! John! Get the footage of last night!”
“Right!” Said man immediately sprinted away to get it while the rest stayed glued to the glass, watching the two Mer as best as they could with how far away from the glass they had set up camp.
A few minutes later, John returned and they all watched with baited breath to see what happened. 
Operating the four cameras, they switched between them and fast forwarded the footage from last night until there was motion, pressing play.
“What happened that gave them a change of heart?” 
- - - -
Disturbance in the water had roused Jotaro from his sleep. 
There was absolutely nothing in this tank except for a feeble artificial water current that helped with filtering. So, to suddenly feel such jerking motions in the water could only mean that it was the other occupant of the tank.
Jotaro tried to ignore it for a bit and go back to sleep but the irregularity and violence in which you were moving meant there was no chance of that.
A little annoyed, Jotaro got up and started swimming over to the skull you had taken residence in. 
Unlike the last time you had woken him up during the night, you were not in front of it. Furrowing his brows, Jotaro turned up and swam to one of the eye sockets. Gripping the edge of it, he pulled himself closer and peered inside.
It was hard to make anything out in the dark but with the limited night vision he had, Jotaro could see your form, completely curled in on yourself on top of a bed similar to what you had made for him. 
Only, then you twitched.
Your whole body jolted for a bit, a barely audible squeak leaving you before you settled again, only for you to jolt again a few seconds later. Your face was screwed up in pain and discomfort and Jotaro let his gaze drift to your waist, seeing if you could be in pain from that, even if it should have healed for the majority of it.
It wasn’t that though. You didn’t clutch at it in pain or explicitly tried to avoid touching it. You seemed to just be having a nightmare.
For a moment Jotaro considered just leaving. You’d wake up from it eventually and would then just go back to sleep. But that thought was quickly chased away.
Not ever had he seen you so... vulnerable. And as he looked at you, something in him screamed at him to protect you. To protect you, to hold you, to keep you close and safe. Only after a few seconds of feeling his stomach twist did Jotaro realise. Wait, shit- did he just imprint on you?
Just like pups would imprint on parents, so could future mates imprint on each other. It didn’t always happen or all that often actually, but something in Jotaro told him that that was exactly what just happened. Fuck.
Stunned for a few seconds longer, it was another small whimper from you that snapped him out of it. Pushing forward, Jotaro got closer to the eye but he could soon see that he wouldn’t be able to reach you through there with his arm, you were too far to the back and he definitely wouldn’t be able to fit. Hell, he wouldn’t even be able to put both his shoulders through there, let alone his tail.
So, with no other option, Jotaro would have to fully go inside another way.
He didn’t want to invade your personal space, but what other choice did he have? With a bit of hesitation, he swam towards the entrance you had dug and looked down into it. While it was big enough for you to be a comfortable and easy fit, Jotaro would either not fit at all, or have to really squeeze.
He got up for a second and sighed. He could hardly believe he was actually gonna do this. With a little stretch of his back and tail in anticipation, he grabbed hold of the roof of the mouth of the skull. 
Lifting it out of the sand was less heavy than he had thought, most likely because of the light material of the skull, but that didn’t mean it was easy. The sand was suctioning it quite strongly but he only had to lift it a little bit to accommodate himself, not pull it out completely. 
After a few seconds of lifting it up, Jotaro released it, content to see it stayed at the same height he had put it in before he almost immediately ducked down and made his way inside.
Swimming slowly to not scare you awake even more than you probably would be, Jotaro reached where you were tucked in the corner.
“Y/N.” He softly called out your name but it didn’t do shit. With a lack of social skills or experience, and the need to do at least something, Jotaro instead just opted to grab your shoulder. “Wake up.”
In an instant, you came to life. Seeing nothing but a large form hovering over you caused an immediate fight or flight response and you grabbed at the hand on your shoulder, using your other to swipe at your attacker, only for them to grab both your wrists.
“It’s just me, calm down.” The voice of Jotaro spoke and your breath hitched in your throat. Jotaro? What? How?
Any logic was cast out of your mind as your instincts kicked in. Right as Jotaro let go of your wrists, you shot forward and clung to him. The safety that him being larger and stronger provided and the body heat he emitted the only thing playing in your barely awake mind, still half stuck in the nightmare.
Jotaro was taken aback as you wrapped around him, yet, for what felt like the first time in forever, he welcomed the contact. As he raised one arm to attempt to wrap it around you and provide more safety, he instead painfully slammed his elbow against the skull, making you squeak and cling tighter to him before realising it was not a threat and letting up a bit.
As much as Jotaro wanted to, he couldn’t stay here. This skull could barely fit him as is, let alone with another person there. 
Patting your shoulder twice, you looked up at him and Jotaro felt his heart seize at the look you gave him. You also understood what he meant however and let go of him, floating back a bit.
Placing his hand on your head, Jotaro turned with a bit of effort and swam out of the skull.
As his tail disappeared from sight, you cast your eyes down. You were so tired and barely conscious enough to keep your eyes open, yet still, going back to sleep sounded like the last thing you wanted to do.
Suddenly however, you felt your wrist being grabbed and Jotaro yanked you with him out of that skull.
Confusion riddled your sleep heavy mind and you barely had enough thought to move your tail, attempting to help swim but mostly being dragged along by Jotaro.
Before long, you two reached Jotaro’s nest and he sat down on it, pulling you a bit closer since you were practically as far away as you could be, stretched out arms and confused. When you still didn’t seem to get it, Jotaro pulled you down with him until you were pressed against him, your back to his chest as he had his arm around you from behind. His tail started curling around you until it fully encased your form, pushing under your head until you were laying it on top, as if using his tail as a pillow. 
“Sleep.” Jotaro spoke softly from right behind you, almost whispering it into your ear, making your heart skip a beat. Almost immediately after saying that, a faint and low rumble began coming from his chest, almost as if he were purring, and you could instantly feel yourself becoming less anxious.
The soft vibrations on your back together with the protective arm wrapped over you and the strong, thick tail curled around and in front of your entire body made you feel safer than you had in a long time - maybe ever. 
By now, you could barely remember your nightmare, only that it scared you to death. But even then, all those fears were slowly driven away by the comfort of Jotaro’s warmth and the protection he brought.
Part 1  |  Part 2  |  Part 3  |  Part 4
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ichorai · 3 years
Text
pearls and pastries ; j.jk
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pairing ; pirate!jungkook x baker!reader (gender-neutral)
summary ; a crew of pirates have been pilfering your village for several weeks now and one particularly keen buccaneer has stopped by your bakery practically every visit; whether it be for the delectable pastries or for the sweet baker he's taken an interest to, jungkook couldn’t say. but there’s a catch - the baker doesn’t know that he’s a pirate.
themes ; fantasy, angst, fluff, pining, slight action, pirate au, baker au, medieval au
words ; 3.6k
warnings / includes ; descriptions of weaponry, stealing (from the rich), jungkook being a sad lovesick sap, pirate!bts, poetic sadness but when do i not do angst lmfao everything i touch turns into written sorrow </3
a/n ; written for the @ficscafe fic exchange event for @sunshinerainbowsbts !! i hope you like it <3 i'm definitely considering writing a part two to this :D
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Jungkook wasn’t quite fond of parrots. Well, his mislike wasn’t necessarily directed towards the multi-hued rotund bird itself, but the fact that the wretched thing was squawking out a poor rendition of what Jungkook had announced earlier whilst clambering down the crow’s nest.
“I’m going to the bakery! I’m going to the bakery! I’m going to the bakery!” the winged devil screeched from atop Jimin’s shoulder, ruffling its bright feathers as if taunting him.
Shooting it the nastiest of scowls, Jungkook reached behind his head to untie the vermilion bandana holding his overgrown locks away from his narrowed eyes. “You better shut that bird up before I toss it to the sharks, Jimin.”
“If I let you do that, I’d also have to throw you overboard. The both of you are equally annoying,” the other pirate snorted in contempt, glancing up at his younger friend striding across the ship before moving his gaze back to the knapsack he was emptying for the pilfer. Out fell several empty bottles of rum, a few gold pieces glinting in the harsh midday sun, two jewel-encrusted daggers, and a worn eyepatch that suspiciously looked to be the same as the one Yoongi always wore over his left eye. “You seem to forget that we’re here to steal from the rich, not buy fancy breads! You’re lucky that Namjoon has half the decency not to kick you off the boat. Jin, however fond he is of you, still calls you a moocher.”
Rouge faintly dusted across Jungkook’s cheekbones as he coughed into his fist, lifting his shoulder in a half-shrug. “I steal stuff sometimes,” he muttered under his breath. It was useless to defend himself against someone who saw straight through him.
“Sometimes, my foot!” Jimin scoffed, hiking the bag over his shoulders. “Bringing back a goblet you found rolling down the street doesn’t count, you know that, right?”
Jungkook rolled his eyes to the cloudless sky, far too stubborn to admit that Jimin was right. With not another word, the young pirate clambered off of the large vessel and onto the rickety docks, grunting upon landing. It didn’t bother him much that Jimin was irked at his lack of contribution. They were rich enough as it is; what was the rush?
The air was tangy with sea salt and damp wood as he inhaled a deep breath, setting off for your bakery. Walking there took exactly three hundred and seventy two steps. Jungkook had memorized the shortest route to your little shop, mumbling the numbers under his breath with a growing grin blossoming across his lips. He subconsciously rolled the sleeves of his white tunic down, the fabric concealing the pirate tattoos inked all over his arms.
When the youthful sea wolf stepped foot into your store, a familiar chiming of the bell hooked atop the door echoed across the cream-walled room. At the reverberating sound, your head peeked out from the kitchen situated in the back. An illuminating beam danced on your features, eyes lighting up with mirth at the sight of Jungkook.
It made the muscle within his chest slam against his ribcage, desperate to be freed from its confines because it belonged to you, and only you. He wasn’t quite sure when the sudden fixation for the village baker his crew was stealing from started, but he had acclimated to his own change of heart by visiting you as often as he could.
“Fancy seeing you here today. Are you coming in or are you now my human door stopper?” Your heavenly voice floated towards Jungkook, snapping him out of his thoughts. Sheepish, he shuffled inside, engulfed by the warm scents of chocolate cakes, powdered pastries, caramelized fruits, and toasted almonds. His stomach gave an impatient snarl at the sight of tempting desserts. You had also walked to the front of the counter, dusting your flour covered hands on an apron. Some of the white powder had managed to smudge on your cheek, and Jungkook had to resist the urge to reach over and thumb it away.
“Hi,” he said with the brightest of grins. “I’ve missed you.”
At his bold statement, you suppressed a chortle. “I think you missed those chocolate cream puffs you like so much, not me. What’ve you been up to while you were gone?”
Jungkook hesitated at that. For the short amount of time he’d been visiting you, not once had he mustered the courage to tell you of his true origins. A savage pirate like him shouldn’t even be around the likes of you. You had no idea that he was part of the crew that was robbing your village, and the very thought of you finding out had him terrified. You were a taste of all the goodness in the world, and Jungkook was afraid you’d crumble into ash if he dared touch you. The sinner had no rights touching an angel, after all.
“Visiting family,” he hummed, quick to move on. If you noticed his strange demeanor, you didn’t say anything. For that, Jungkook was grateful. “I brought something for you.”
There was something about your smile that seemed to expel any and all feelings of gloom in a room. Jungkook was no exception to this feat, his knees almost buckling against the soft pink counters. He righted himself by leaning his elbows on top and propping his chin up with a palm. Gods, he didn’t know he was in this deep.
“Oh?” you set your hands on your hips, tilting your head to the side. “To what do I owe such pleasures?”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “For those cream cheese tarts you made me last time I visited. Thought I’d repay you.” Whilst saying this, he used his free hand to reach into his back pocket, fishing out a string of authentic pearls, adorned with a glimmering clasp of gold the same hue as the sun.
Your smile melted into a confused pucker, brows knitting together in a muted painting of hesitance, yet you ogled the expensive necklace dangling by one of his spindly fingers nonetheless. Where on earth had he gotten such a valuable treasure? “But you already paid me with money. I really can’t take that, Jungkook.”
Disappointment was easily detected as he slanted his lips to the side. “Alright, then.” He tucked the pearls back into his pocket. It surprised you how easily he had complied.
The worrisome atmosphere was quick to dissolve when the bell jangled once more. A small child meandered in with a toothy beam, holding a small pouch of clattering coins in their palm. They were no taller than Jungkook’s midriff, and he liked it a little more than he should have watching a certain softness adorn your features at the sight of the kid.
“I recommend the cinnamon apple pie. Or maybe the brown sugar crepes if you’re looking for something sweeter,” Jungkook said, gesturing to the treat behind the display glass. The child angled their head to stare at the taller man with wonder. “Anything Y/N makes is to die for, though.”
The child excitedly babbled something in return, but you didn’t quite pick up what they had said. You were far too focused on Jungkook’s animated features when he kneeled down to point at some more desserts. Sure, he was a handsome man, you’ve known that since day one. You’ve never really looked at him in this light. It was as if he were carved from pure luminosity, whittled by the hand of the most skilled sculptor. Everything about him was practically perfect; the gentle slope of his nose, the angles of his raised eyebrows, the dappled rouge of his lips, the beauty marks mottling his dewy skin, the dangerous cuts of his jaw, the twinkle of gaiety you found in his irises. With the sunlight filtering through the windows, it basked Jungkook within a golden radiance, the shadows casted along his face only highlighting his best features, doing nothing to aid your fluttering pulse. Has he always been this beautiful?
“I’ll have a slice of apple pie!”
The sudden clinking of coins being dumped onto the counter snapped you out of your trance, and you kindly wrapped up what the child ordered and handed them the paper bag. Both you and Jungkook watched as they smiled in thanks and trotted out of the bakery. Curse his handsome physique.
A little flustered by your earlier thoughts, you busied your hands by sorting the coins the kid had coughed up. Jungkook, ever the kind soul, merely stood with you as you worked, engaging you in entertaining conversations to keep you occupied while your store was empty. Where did the sun go once it disappeared down the horizon? Why did everybody else seem to enjoy the bitter taste of coffee except him? Why did his heart beat so quickly when around you? The last question he couldn’t muster the courage to ask, and much to his perturbation, he already knew the answer. You enjoyed Jungkook’s company very much; to the point where you couldn’t quite remember what it was like before he had sauntered into your life.
Before the both of you knew it, the sun was already setting. Jungkook noticed the way you deflated just slightly when red kissed the sky. It was a telltale sign that Jungkook was long overdue to go back to his ship. Yoongi would have his ass if he was late again. The whole situation was ridiculous, really. He felt like a fairy tale princess running away from the ball before his clothes grew into tatters. Well, in his case, he supposed it’d be pirate-wear.
Your smile betrayed only the gentlest hint of disappointment as you thrusted a bag of warm cookies into his arms. “Take this for the road,” you had said.
And so Jungkook did, smiling like an idiot the whole way back. A part of him absentmindedly wondered what your face would look like when you noticed that he had left the pearls on the countertop for you.
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The ship rocked as the young pirate scampered across the deck at a startling speed, flinging the doors to the cabins open. Six older pirates stared at his panting form, a few looking on with unsurprised indifference, most glaring at him in disappointment. Jimin merely stuck his tongue out, his childish way of saying I told you so. There was expectancy in the captain’s eyes, but it waned away at an instant upon seeing that Jungkook carried nothing of value. Namjoon pinched the space between his brows in mild frustration.
Stiffly, Jungkook jerked his arm to thrust the bag in his hand forward. “Cookie?” he asked. Nobody said anything. Jungkook slowly brought his appendage back down, guilt roiling in his abdomen. “I take it you guys don’t want the cookies?”
With a huff, Namjoon stalked forward. “Of course we want the cookies, give me that.” He snatched the bag out of Jungkook’s hands and tossed it to Taehyung, who caught it with eagerness vividly splayed across his ruffled features. “I do have to admit, we’re getting tired of you bringing back nothing but sweets every time we go on raids, Jungkook. C’mon, kid, this is a team effort here. Look, just today Yoongi managed to steal a dozen coffers from a nobleman. The least you can do is try.” True to the captain’s word, there was a mountain of chests and boxes full to the brim with gold coins and shimmering jewels piled to the side of the cabin.
Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Jungkook nodded in understanding, though not without a miniscule frown twinging his lips. What was a pirate without his treasure, right?
Taking note of his glum demeanor, Namjoon clapped a hand to the younger man’s shoulder. “We’re not mad at you—”
Yoongi snorted at that.
“We just… want to help you help us,” Namjoon finished, ignoring the salty pirate’s quip from behind him.
The youngest man on deck raised his hand to his forehead in an awkward salute. “Yes cap’n!” Shame prowled within his chest; just thinking about the dishonor he brought to the pirate reputation by loitering in a bakery all day, ogling at sugary treats (and the sweet baker, but Jungkook digresses).
A part of him felt even worse knowing that he’d see you less and less, what with the other pirates breathing down his neck. He could only hope that you’d still look forward to his visits, though few and far in between.
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Authentic bottles of expensive wines were shoved into his knapsack by Taehyung, lacing chains of aureate crammed into his hands by Hoseok, bars of cold silver wedged into the pits of his arms by Jimin, and more treasures thrown at the youngest pirate to hold as they lithely ran across the village. Being one of the stronger and more agile ones of the group had its downfalls, after all. He was being treated like a pack mule, hauling all the treasure for them. Not that he was going to complain; Jungkook knew that he deserved the rough-housing.
“Hold onto these for me, will you?” Yoongi gruffly uttered as he slid the thick hilts of gem-encrusted daggers into his belt. Jungkook complied hesitantly, but not without a suppressed groan of annoyance. “They’ll sell for more than a pretty penny, so don’t lose them.” The older pirate seemed to be in a grumpier than usual mood, considering he lost his eyepatch and the mottled scar crossing over his eye was on display for anybody to gawk at. It would’ve been worrying to Jungkook if he wasn’t aware of the fact that Jimin was merely prolonging his juvenile game of ‘keep away’, attempting to dance away from Yoongi’s inevitable wrath.
Perhaps being a pirate wasn’t his true calling, because Jungkook found that his mind kept wandering off to the matters at hand—running away from the guards. Though it was a relatively easy task (the guards were quite thick-headed in this village), he thought about the pretty plants dangling from the balconies of a building they jogged by, or the scents of exotic spices carried by the souq market not far from where they were. Most of all, much to his expectancy, his thoughts were centered around you. Had you gotten many customers for lunch rush? Were you lonely without him? How many times have you smiled today? Jungkook was all too fond of your smile.
Blinded by his unsaid affectionate ramblings, he only barely caught on to Namjoon’s quiet, “We shook the guards off for now. Be careful next time, Seokjin. The sun’s about to set soon; we should head back to the ship before it gets dark.”
Jungkook hissed out a small sigh of relief, bending over to catch his breath. Jogging across the village would have been no problem, but running with treasures twice his weight draped all over him was a different story.
When he righted himself back to standing, the sudden pit of shocked trepidation unfurled within his abdomen. There you were, beautiful as ever, but a terrifying sight to see. Normally you’d be the only person he would want to see, but as of this moment, you were the absolute last person he fancied bumping into.
Why now? He had the most rotten of luck.
Today you weren’t wearing your regular apron, but a pair of fitted grey trousers and a soft beige blouse far too large for you, hanging off of one of your shoulders as you cradled a basket of breads and cheeses and other groceries in your arms. It was a simple outfit, but one that made his heart clench nonetheless. The glinting of iridescent pearls draped over your décolletage had his breath stolen away from him as raw sentiment overtook his form. You were wearing the pearls he left for you and you never looked more beautiful. Jungkook, on the other hand, was clad in clothes that practically screamed pirate; a golden-clasped corset tightened about the small of his waist, a tattered white button-up tucked into his dark trousers, worn sea boots covering his feet. A large gun was also slung over the belt cinched around his hips, along with multiple daggers of the like, and not to mention all the riches and jewelry the other boys had thrown at him.
You couldn’t see him. No, it would absolutely ruin Jungkook.
Perhaps dropping everything he was holding in a panicked effort to dash away as quickly as he could was the worst possible thing he could have done to not warrant any attention.
The concerned and confused questions erupting from the other pirates as they whipped their heads towards their youngest comrade went completely ignored. He scampered away from them, lunging towards a shadowed alley and hiding behind a teetering pile of musty boxes. A stray cat nuzzled against his leg, but Jungkook merely shooed it away with a frustrated glare and not-so-subtle shushing gestures.
What a fool I am, the young buccaneer berated himself, pressing a knuckle against his temple in frustration. He waited for another minute, before slinking out from the shadows, peering around the corner to see if you were still there.
No sign of you. Relief seized his chest, but not without the gentlest flower of disappointment staining whatever solace he felt, a weed amongst the roses. Jungkook’s mind was still reeling from the fact that you were wearing his pearls.
Treading carefully, he strode out of the alley, turning the other direction before halting in his tracks completely. A queer, garbled noise tumbled past his lips.
It was you, a confused smile gracing your features, and all Jungkook could think about was how the sunlight was made for you, how you glowed in front of him, how he wanted to cradle you into his chest and murmur confessions of his pure, unadulterated love into your ear. But Jungkook didn’t do any of that. Instead, he merely stood there, as if he was imitating a statue in all of his pirate glory. Terrified, regretful, and ever so angry at himself.
Fate was a cruel game.
The pearls shone prettily on your skin. A reminder of the best mistake he’s ever made.
Your eyes had yet to wander down to fully take in his appearance, for your expression still held fondness for the man that’s visited your bakery so often, still having no idea that he was a filthy pirate, locked into his molten gaze. “I think you dropped something…?” The golden chains dangled loose between your fingers as you held them out to him. Jungkook didn’t take them, frozen on the spot.
It was as if he could pinpoint the exact moment you found out his true origins. Your brows furrowed upon seeing the weaponry strapped onto him, one of his pirate tattoos on display (Jungkook cursed himself for not thinking of rolling his sleeve back down), and the six other men watching in silent despondency behind them. You had always been a sharp one, far too smart for your own good.
Or, perhaps, it's always been obvious. Jungkook was only wishing for the impossible.
“You’re a pirate.”
The statement wedged a stake into his chest, splintering his heart into pieces. When you stepped away from him, confused horror marring your beautiful features, Jungkook knew that it was over.
He lost you.
A flurry of emotions, overwhelming and tumultuous, evidently took over you at his lack of denial. You looked to be just as heartbroken as he was.
“You’re a pirate,” you repeated, dazed. You wanted him to say something, anything. Much to his surprise, you didn’t sound angry. You took several steps back this time. The weight of pearls around your neck suddenly felt choking.
The sudden calling of his name had his head whipping around to look at his captain, watching the brutal exchange with gentle sternness. “We have to go.” The guards’ll be coming soon, no doubt.
Jungkook looked back to you, any and all words lodged in his throat. Despite the fear in your irises, a soft expression of acceptance folded over your visage, for under all his pirate exterior, he was still the same man that you thought so fondly of from your bakery. The look was short-lived however, quick to fade away when Jungkook reached out for you hesitantly. A part of him pondered how a simple baker managed to steal from the stealer. You had robbed him of his heart, and Jungkook didn’t even try to stop you.
Upon seeing you inch away in mortification at your new revelation, Jungkook retracted his arm and pursed his lips. The agony clawing at his stomach was begging to be set free. He wanted nothing more than to get onto his knees and plead for your forgiveness.
I’m sorry I lied. I’m sorry I’m not the man you thought I was. I’m sorry I fell in love with you.
His name came out again, this time from Yoongi. That meant it was serious.
“I’ll come back,” Jungkook said, tears rimming the bottom of his warm doe eyes. You watched him start to trek backwards. “I promise.” The words felt heavy on his tongue, like he was swallowing down a knot of thorned ivy.
Before you had the chance to say anything back, he was gone, bounding back to his ship with his comrades. Not long after, the distant barks of guards pursuing them rang throughout the village. You took that as your cue to leave. Swallowing down the urge to cry, you forced your eyes away.
You hoped he wouldn’t uphold his promise, for the both of your sakes.
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is-very-sad · 3 years
Text
Obey Me crossover pt2
Warnings: demons behaving like demons; including murder, sadism, implied human eating, implied mass death, some black humor bc I love these horribly sinful bois and can't resist having some fun with this~ I also call Asmodeus a twink affectionately- no insult intended Word count: 1,403
Beidou and her crew were traveling when they saw a great beast unlike anything before. She ran to the bow to inspect the thing, it must've been longer than islands! She has no idea. She was about to call her crew to arms when she spotted you, along with six others on the creature's head and back. You lay comfortably in coral like horns that were longer than her ship was large in any direction.
Beidou gaped in awe. She's been at sea for weeks. She was still pure. She hadn't been pulled into mob mentality like the rest of Teyvat. And now she sees you so comfortably riding on a creature of such legendary size?
She knows. You're the Creator. You couldn't be anyone else. She and her crew collectively fall to their knees and cling to the rigging for support. No one speaks as you glance at them. Bediou's heart skips a beat when you smile at her, filled with unspoken thanks. At least you could spare her.
The ship and her crew watch in awe as a massive, yet still smaller seven headed creature follows in the wake of your party, and then countless smaller things. Men and women with the tails of fish, teeth and nails a little too sharp. Strange creatures, massive shark like beings, and possibly more, under the waves.
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Ships sink in droves as the naval army spreads to surround Inazuma. You look upon the city as you remember how you were nearly drowned at the hands of the Shogun's guards. You contemplate how you want to do this. As you and six others step onto the docks; The Leviathan and his forces move to patrol around the helpless island city.
"Satan, Asmodeus." The two look to you eagerly. You simply point at the Shogun's palace. "Don't bother holding back." Asmo cackles - somehow daintily- as he stretches his four small wings and flies easily in the given direction. Satan has no wings, but he takes the opportunity to sightsee.
And by sightsee you mean he immediately begins eviscerating the samurai that are in the way. The poor creatures almost emit pity from you, they can't even move fast enough to keep eyes on Satan as he lunges between targets.
"Beelzebub, Belphegor…" You think for a moment. A dry grin. "Go have fun. Find someone tasty." Beelzebub immediately moves to find his share of the coming feast. Belphegor lazily follows, casually breaking anyone that gets close enough.
You decide you'd like a view. "Mammon, would you fly me higher?" Mammon does so, because he is a simp. Lucifer figures the lack of orders means you trust him to do something useful with himself. He figures he'll go to the left of the harbor, none of his brothers have gone that way. Maybe he'll find something interesting. Shall he use his claws, or just crush the foe?
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Kokomi runs through her base as screams echo across the walls. She arrives at the center to find a horned man holding a trident of coral. A massive tail snaps one of her people's neck as he faces her. Venom drips from serpentine fangs. She shivers as he hisses.
She readies her catalyst, Levi walks towards her slowly. She sends a wave of hydro, it bounces off the demon in front of her. She stares blankly before a tail fractures her wrist. She cries in pain. Desperate attacks yield no results, the creature before her drags her towards him.
"Y/n." She freezes. "H-how do you know the Creator's true name?" Levi grins, fangs glinting. "[First] [middle] [last]." Kokomi had no way of knowing if that was the true full name of her God. But something about his confidence strangled her heart.
"No…" She began crying. Levi's grin grows tenfold as she understands who she sent away in their time of need. Levi thinks on how they once gushed about her. How sweet and cute they thought she was. His envy rises. He has time.. "You were a favorite, you know." Kokomi flinches, both from the guilt and the tail harshly tugging her broken wrist forward. "They thought you were so kind.. A shame they'll never make that mistake again." Crying turns to full sobbing. Gorou stumbles as Levi's eyes snap to him, freezing him in fear before he could even attempt something.
Y/n liked him too. Wonderful, now he can break both of them.
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In a courtyard; perhaps a garden, Ei and Sara stand back to back anxiously. They couldn't even see them move beyond a blur. It was seconds between their crashing through the walls and the deaths of every general or soldier in their way.
The Shogun levels her pole arm at a blood drenched blond, eyes slitted and deranged as his smile. Green fire burns from cracks in his skin as tar drips from bloody talons. Despite her composure, she feels the slightest shake in her limbs.
Sara struggles to stay calm as the bloody twink in front of her vividly describes with glee how he might kill her. His scorpion tail practically wags as he seems to shiver in excitement.
Satan loses patience as his hand crushes the spot Ei was in seconds before. Sara leaps to the side as this seems to spur her opponent into action, delighted laughs chilling her blood as talons reach for her.
The exchange between the Shogun and y/n's Wrath doesn't last for more than ten seconds before lightning cracks to her pole arm, purple energies lashing towards the demon that dared stand before the electro archon. She looks in contempt at the hole he was thrown through.
And then her heart nearly stops at the unholy howl that pierces the air. It was barely even two seconds before a hulking thing charged back through the wall. Black skin and exposed rib bones, a unicorn skull with a green mane of hate made manifest. Useless wings hang limp as a skeletal tail sharper than any blade rips through the building it came through. Tar stained hooves and tar crack the ground.
Her mind nearly breaks there, archon status barely giving her mind enough strength to stay itself. That doesn't change that she screams in true panic as it breathes hellfire, nor does it change that she barely dodged in the first place. Sara screams in the background somewhere, her mind not nearly strong enough to survive such a sight. A second scream rings out when Asmodeus catches her during her moment of distraction.
For an impressive minute, Ei manages to stay in front of the relentless assault of Wrath made flesh. Alas, she forgets the tail. Ironically, Satan also did. The tail swings with a mind of its own as Ei performs a graceful jump over tar stained talons. Graceful until the tail cleanly cuts her arm off diagonally at the shoulder. She collides harshly to the ground, shock filling her as she notices her lack of a left arm. She fails to break out of her confusion before two hands the size of her body grasp into fists and crush her to a crumpled mess of blood and shattered bone. Somewhere in the background Asmo laughs as Sara screams. Seems he decided to utilize his poison. She dies slower than her shogun.
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Belphegor lazily follows Beel's path of hungry destruction. He isn't covered in blood, but he's certainly not clean. Only a handful on this side have managed to get past Beel long enough to meet him. A store catches his eye. Those blankets look comfortable, would y/n like them?    He sidesteps, a sword where his back was. Ayaka stands before him, though he doesn't know her name. Her eyes show confusion, how did he know she was there? Belphegor chuckles airily. "You've never seen a true demon, have you?"     Her eyes narrow, "So you're demons? Seems appropriate." She straightens into a combat stance."You still won't prevail, enemies of Ina-"    Belphegor grows tired of her and grabs her throat in a vice grip with his tail. He tilts his head with a grin as she struggles. He's always fascinated by the faces people make as they struggle to breathe.    It's fortunate she's dead by the time Beelzebub doubles back in search of his twin.
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From Mammon's you watch in satisfaction as Inazuma burns in a dazzling mix of pink, green, and blue fire.
Beel and Belphie later gift you some snacks and blankets they stole from local establishments. The dango was wonderful. A more than mildly deranged Satan gives you Ei's head. To everyone else's surprise you thank him enthusiastically. You'll have Beel chew off the meat on the way to Liyue, then add it to your bone collection back home.
Satan's form is from here, it is not my making
Sorry in advance for how I handle the brothers, I don't know alot about genshin characters so I had trouble finding a way to give every brother a little bit of action each.
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iceprincessviviane · 3 years
Text
Eyes in the darkness
Paring: Yandere!C!Technoblade x BookwormEnchanter!Female!Reader
Type: Romantic (Technoblade is yandere). Trilogy - part one. Next part.
Warnings: swearing, possessivness, yandere, angst, injury, sugestive content, threats, blood, silly jokes created by me.
Summary: Technoblade was watching Y/N for some time, trying to stay in the shadows. Unfortunately voices and thoughts won against the logic and he want her now on his side forever.
Author's note: Inspiration from a lot of things, but especially: Hades and Persephone, Beauty and the Beast. This used to be oneshot, but I changed my mind, ut will be trilogy. English isn't my first language, so sorry for any mistakes.
Words in red colour are Technoblade's voices.
Words in blue colour are Y/N thoughts.
Y/N didn’t know when was the last time she ran for her life. Probably during one of the pillagers attack on the village or maybe in the Nether. But none of them was that type. Now she was being chased by something way much more dangerous than besties. At the moment, she’s being followed by the Blood God himself. Despite the aching and pain of her muscles and her throat feeling dry from gasping for air, Y/N was still asking herself how did on earth this happen?
~*~
Y/N always loved books and reading, she came to Smp two weeks after Foolish arrival. Actually her friendship with him leaded her here. They exchanged the letters and she was interested in staying somewhere for a while. After some time, she decided to come. Her divine friend already started to build his summer home and had few buildings done. She stayed there for few couple of days, they decided to build something for herself. She already have met most of Smp members including Dream Team, Bench Trio and rest, but owning home, place for stay was good idea. Sometimes Y/N liked to be alone. Eret allowed her to build something behind his castle, it was always nice to have someone close.
It took time before she ended house, it was cozy one with big field in front, farms, cellars and most important - library with enchanting place. It was huge, biggest part of the house with plenty of regals and reading spots. Y/N loved to spend there time and collectin more books or texts. Foolish had a lot of ancient scrolls or manuscripts and liked to share them with her. They could spend hours discussing about their favourite ones.
Books caused that Y/N met Phil, because he was the second person on the Smp, which had great collection from centauries. Shark god took her at trip to Tundra. Y/N was excited to meet such person and nervous too. Happily, everything went all right, Technoblade wasn't that time in home, so they had chilling conversation. Winged man was very curious about her skills and enchants. Of course during his travells and lifespan he met enchanters, but didn't paid much attention to them. Now, he could meet one in chill ocassion. Their three had a lot of talking, giggling and being wholesome. Phil promised to borrow more interesting books and Y/N said, that she can give some enchantments.
When Technoblade came back he immediately felt, that Foolish was there with... someone else... someone new. It smelled like pine and old paper, very nice. Phil told him about visitors and Y/N, he ignored it a little bit, but voices... voices liked this smell a lot.
'So strange.' 'Which woman can smell like that?' 'Where is she living?'
}*{
Y/N was peaceful person with no intention to harm anybody, staying in her place. She stayed in positive relations with almost everyone, providing needed enchantments and helping caused, that a lot of members were friendly to her. Y/N liked to hanging out with Bench Trio, although they were sometimes so chaotic. Usually she went mining with Ranboo, when it was needed, cutting trees with Tommy for his buildings and staying in Snowchester with Tubbo. That is why she came with almost everyone, when Tommy and Tubbo were in Dream bunkier fighting with him. Discs were just items, but... Dream's obsession, it was dangerous and teenagers were her friends. After that a lot of things changed. Putting him into Pandora's Vault was meant to protect them, but she was getting cold shivers each time she looked at black walls of prison. Knowing that everyone could be locked there...
After Egg's influence grew stronger she tried to find some infromations about it and how could ghe possible defeat it, but that took time. Foolish and Phil were so helpful handing their ancient texts, to make research. Suddenly with crimson vines everywhere, Smp became less safer, at least she felt it that way. More members were busy with their business and stuff, they finally could do them, when Dream was locked. For example Foolish agreed to build big mansion for Tubbo and Ranboo, which got platonical marriage and Tommy started his hotel. Meeting Michael was so wholesome and funny, little zombie piglin started to like her and at each visit she read him fairy tales and stories.
Y/N decided to not think about bad sides of Smp, just being busy and tried to help, if someone needed it. Before Doomsday wandering around could be dangerous, especially for La'Manburg citizens, because Dream and Technoblade were unpleasant for them. Now she enjoyed visiting almost everyone everywhere. After a few visits, she could tell that something was wrong, Y/N couldn't tell what, but it was almost like being watched, blaming Egg and vines was her answer for that, but actually why? Why did it do that? She would never joined their side. Never ever. Sometimes she spotted the Phil's corws, but that wasn't a s surprise, birds were telling him a lot of informations around the Smp. Easy way to know almost everything.
}*{
Y/N was heading to her house, stepping at Prime Path. In opposite direction she spotted Quackity, slowly walking by from prison direction, which was surprise. She smiled softly to him and he smiled back.
"What's up?" Big Q asked when got closer to her.
"It's good I am coming back home, need to eat and get some nap, and you?"
"I... ended some buisness." His face stiffened and his look became more serious.
Y/N nodded little unsure about his changed emotions. Suddenly she spotted that his sleeve is covered in fresh blood.
"Are you hurt?" She asked worried.
Quckity looked at his shirt as surprised as she and frowned, he checked axe which hanged down from his belt.
"I guess so then, but I don't know where did that come from."
"Let me take care of this." Y/N suggested with warm smile. "My home is closer than Las Nevadas."
After a few moments he nodded in agreement. They together headed to her place. Weather started to become stormy, dark cloud covered the sun, threating to start raining.
Then went inside, but when she was closing door, feeling of being watched hit her with dubled strength. House was in the spine forest, but fenced and had a gate. In filed were some farms, trees and small garden, but everything seemed to look normal. Big Q sat on the couch in living room and Y/N brought bandages, water in bowl and even healing potion. He rose sleeve, wound wasn't long, but deep, something cut his arm, probably weapon.
"It doesn't look good, but you will be okay." She said after looking at cut.
"Good." He sighed with relief.
"What did make it? Do you have an idea?"
Big Q looked dead in her eyes and remained silence. Of course he knew what, but he didn't even noticed the wound before leaving the prison. Well, someone will pay for this.
"Maybe working at Las Nevadas, you know... I am still building there." He spoke after a while.
"Oh... ye you have right, but be careful next time." Y/N suggested and started to work on cut carefuly. Starting on cleaning, then gently bandaged it.
"Thank you." Big Q said after seeing the results.
"No problem, just don't walk around with untreated wound." Y/N giggled softly.
He stood up and moved his eyes on windows. Black clouds didn't go away, even became worse.
"I will go now, weather is getting worse, I want to be in home before storm." Big Q said with soft smile.
"Of course, see you next time."
After he left, big storm came, darkness fell upon the Smp, rain and wind were too strong, for coming outside. Y/N decieded to take a chance and nap. She baked some cookies and sit down on a couch with another book, which Phil borrowed her. Only the torches gave light, sometimes thunderbolt stroke and filled room with unatural blue light. Drops hit hardly, making loud sounds, but Y/N was too much into a book. Two hours has passed and slowly night was coming. She moved eyes to meet clock, yep that was supper time, put the book away and up, Gods thr storm didn't let go. Y/N watched for a while outside, then go to kitched. She grabbed blanket and wrapped it around her posture, damn there were cold.
Again feeling of being watched kicked in. She was alone at home, that was sure thing. Outside was deep dark and behind the windows was the wall of the water. Y/N bite her lip and shook head, it was just her imagination, a feeling which stayed for no reason after putting Dream into Pandora's Vault. She took an kettle and suddenly was seeing something in the corner of the eye, something red and unusual in the spine forest. Her figure frozen when she moved back eyes. Deep in the dark, around sprouce trees in the line of forest, Y/N spotted pair of shinning, red eyes, high above the ground. They were locked at her figure.
'This has to be spider... or something else...'
Right after this thought, ceature turned back and disappeard in the darkness, cold shiver went down at Y/N spine. What was that? And why it was here? At least she was safe in home...
}*{
'More.' 'Training is boring, let's find someone to fight.' 'We demand blood.'
Technoblade sighed and stopped, voices today were very, very loud. That was why he decided to train, but during it, they became even worse. He hid sword and walked into home. Phil wasn't here today, he had to do something, but didn't bother to tell him what it was. Blade went back to home by his old path through the forest. His training place was near the cottage, but still hidden from common people. All members of Syndicate knew where it was. First of all he need to take shower. When cold water touched his skin, he felt like even his bloodlust became less, quiet hiss left his lips. He earned some chafings this week. Next, he changed his clothes to common and made a cup of tea, then sit in the kitchen. Immediately his thoughts went to Y/N.
Somehow voices were acting diffrent around her and he even found himself acting that way. They were focused around Y/N and he was more calm, like just her pressence was comforting him. Technoblade remembered their first meeting, it was common day, when someone knocked on the door. He opened it and rose his eyebrows in surprise, outside was standing fragile woman, without any armor and only with trident on her back. They shared awkward eye contact, when suddenly she introduced herself as Y/N. Of course he saw her couple of times, but it wasn't officialy. Y/N has known who was he for sure, she swallowed hard and looked down with shyness. Phil yelled across the room, that she could come in. Ah yes... she loved to read books and his old friend was borrowing her them a lot. Technoblade again felt the spine and old papers smell, for him, it could stay here forever. After short visit, Y/N took books, gave back book of enchantment and left.
Techno's curiosity has increased, when he heard about her more. She was peaceful, friendly soul, completly opposite of him, maybe that was, why he felt so... diffrent around her and voices too. Piglin hybrid enjoyed watching her from the distance, in the shadows, but lately... lately it wasn't enough. Now he wanted to breathe at Y/N scent, holding her close and pressed soft kisses at forehead. He was under voices pressure so long and now his salvation was so close. But what would he make it? As longer he has thought of that, a diffrent ideas came to his head. She was delicate creature, he had to get plan at all. Techno knew almost everything about her: hobbies, traditions, friends and fighting skills. Phil told him a lot about enchanters, they could make enchanting books after years of studying and had magic talent sometimes. As they knew, Y/N could enchant books at any spell, so she had to studied a lot. Technoblade sighed and grabbed his cloak, time to keep an eye on few things.
'Let's not go quietly!' 'Let's go quiet as grave...' 'Blood for the Blood God!'
}*{
That was busy week, Y/N could only one time saw Foolish and Phil, but whole Smp seemed a little bit diffrent... luckily she was able to go on mining trip with Ranboo and Eret visited her with a couple of books, which were about Smp. Now was afternoon and sun slowly started to set, she was heading to her house, where waited for her snow fox, which she found in Snowchester. Cute, little ball of fur stole Y/N heart immediately. When she finally stepped inside, Snowflake - that how she named it, ran into her squeaking high.
"What happend my little one?" She knelt down and pet it's head.
Fox looked at her with big brown eyes and squeaked once more, then jump into her arms.
"Oh oh oh... are you afraid of something?" Y/N hugged Snowflake and looked around. Everything in home seemed normal, door was closed, in a field same, animals were quite nervous, but everything was good. She frowned and stepped inside, then put fox into basket with small blanket.
"I will bring you some berries, you will like it for sure." Y/N smiled gently.
Unfortunately, she didn't have any at this moment in home, Snowflake was there only for three days, so she couldn't make berries farm so fast, because she had to set up a space. Luckily, she lived around coniferous forest, so didn't even hesiatate, Y/N just grabbed backpack and went outside. Sun was lower in the sky, but still it was warm and brightly. Birds were humming quietly and around was quite quiet. Berries bush weren't so far, she founed some, but in order to make supplies, decided to find more, then plant them around the house. It would spared the time and work.
"Y/N." She heard deep, lazy voice and immediately turned at it's direction.
The Blade was standing under big sprouce tree with satisfied grinn on his lips. Eyes locked on Y/N figure, which completly froze at the sight of him. She have never been with him alone, in tundra always Phil or Ranboo were around, now it felt... strange and risky, she still remembered what happend to La'Manburg citizens.
"Technoblade." Y/N spoke softly, being careful to not crack her voice, despite building feeling of fear. She noticed, that piglin hybrid under his royal, crimson cloak was wearing armor, probably not his best one, but still enough to win fight. Part of hair made into bun, rest were freely in his back and shoulders. From his belt was hanging netherite sword and netherite axe was sticking out from behind. She spotted, that his weapons were a little covered in blood, same as his sleeves and parts of shirt. He was killing monsters right? Or just hunting? Uncomfortable, awkward silence reminded between them, only forest noises distrubed it from time to time.
Voices were too loud today, too agressive, too greedy, killing monsters and pillagers wasn't enough, Quackity has already tasted his steel, well he deserved that after showing up in Y/N home. He had so much fun with him, but after that he needed some rest, comfort and calm. That is why without even thinking too much Technoblade went straight to Y/N house. He hoped, that everything will change, that he finally will has some break from voices, violence and killing. Of course he liked his way to be... but yes sometimes, you have to make a nap.
"Are you wounded?" Y/N asked quietly breaking the silence. After all, if he needed help, she would help him, without hesitation.
Technoblade's grinn became more sinister, he put hand on sword hilt and slowly tilted his head on right side.
"This isn't my blood." He said without caring at all.
"Oh, that's good then..." Y/N whispered, but he could hear that.
Piglin hybrid studied her posture, she had only trident at her back, backpack in left hand, no armor, no more weapons. Poor little girl, that's not how you are going outside your home, she was literally unarmed in his eyes.
"So... what are you doing here? Alone? In the forest?" Technoblade asked and moved closer to her.
The way he spoke these words, made Y/N shiver inside, outside, she grabbed her backpack harder. Surely there was nothing to worry about, she has never done something wrong to him or Philza, she wasn't dangerous or wanted to has any power. Techno is probably just passing by. Suddenly he was so close, now she could for real see the height diffrence, for the gods sake, her head reached around his breastbone. Y/N looked up only to meet piglin hybrid's burning gaze.
"I... I was collecting berries for my snow fox. Something scared her, so I thought that she will calm down after getting some and I ran out of them..." she suttered and swallow hard.
"How sweet." Technoblade commented and his smile widened.
"So... you are just passing by?"
"Not really."
Sudden grip on her chin caught Y/N off guard. Technoblade forced her to look straight into his eyes. His face stiffened a little bit, she hissed quietly, when claws touched harder gentle skin. Then she realised... Blade's eyes were red and she heard, that it could glow in darkness. Her skin became pale and pupils widened. It was him, that time during a storm, he was watching her...
"What are you doing?" Y/N asked quietly, without any clue, what was going on.
'She is so innocent.' 'We love her scent.' 'Let her know.'
"I have something to tell you." He leaned and immediately her scent hit him harder, resisting to take deep breath wasn't that easy.
"What excatly?"
"I was watching you for a while Y/N. Belive me or not I found that interesting, because your pressence is calming for me, I can fall asleep while listening your voice and push away my violence behaviour, when you are around." He stroked her cheek by his thumb and smiled haughty. "I am always getting , what I want and I want that so badly, you can't even imagine."
Y/N shook head and made few steps back, leaving his grip, couldn't belive what she just heard. That's impossible.
"I don't know what to say... I can admit, that I had strange feeling of being watching but... I blamed the Egg..." She looked deep into his eyes, trying to put everything together. "What do you mean, you are always getting, what are you want? How am I suppose to understand that?"
"Listen sweetheart, we can do this in two diffrent ways: good or bad. If you choose first one, fine politely you will go with me. Second way? Well I can be very convincing, when I want to." Technoblade frowned.
None of this options was good for her. Y/N sighed and her shoulders dropped. She couldn't do anything literally...
"Come on princess. I can take care of you, I promise, you will be happy." He gave her his hand, but gripped sword hilt harder.
Y/N always avoided the conflicts and argues, never has started any, that was easier and better way to live. She could take care of her interests, powers anf friends by being supportive or neutral. Technoblade's behaviour made her shiver and feel sick, there was no guarantee that he will keep his words, even if it were sweet and promising. Y/N knew that fighting him was pointlees, he were ten thousand better than her, she didn't even have armor or second weapon. But surrender just like that? Without any resistance? She always was determinated, miss 'you can always find a way, solution'. Not a chance.
"I think I have better option, which lay in the middle." Y/N smiled gently.
"Well, tell me then." Technoblade rose his eyebrows with curiosity.
With one smooth move, she put backpack on and immediately started to run. The Blade's pupils widened, he burst out laughing.
"It will be funny."
She has known, that she needed to lose him in forest. Going to home wouldn't help, because door or gate couldn't stop Blood God. Lost him and then ran away from Smp, at least her current living location. Y/N realized that she couldn't even ask for help anyone. Probably Technoblade would come after her friends, helpers, so that was it. Y/N versus The Blade, she was on her own.
'How did she dare to run away from us?!' 'Chase her, catch her.' 'Faster, faster, faster!'
It seemed like running away from Tommy for fun, came in handy and long trips with Ranboo caused her to move fast through forest. Y/N nimbly jumped over obstacles and avoid rocks or roots. Her pace wasn't the fastes, but she could hold it for pretty long time. She wasn't thinking a lot, just tried to run away as far as she could.
'Don't look back, don't look back, it will make you slower.'
Hiding could be good idea, but not now. As long as he was close, she couldn't stop at all. Breaking through the forest was only hearing noise, soon, she heard her heavy breathing. Heading to unknown direction wasn't so wisely, but Y/N had no choice. After a few minutes, she stopped to catch breath. Around was sudden so quiet, cold shiver went down at her spine. Too quiet.
"Already tired?" Technoblade's voice surprised her from left side.
She turned head, just to see him leaning against the tree. In his right hand he held sword, didn't even look like he was running.
"You can't outrun me little one. A lot of people tried, now they are dead." He aimed sword at her. "We can end this farce here. I am not mad, honestly, you made me smile a little bit."
"You will have to catch me, if you want me going with you." Y/N said and then continue to run away.
"Oh I will princess, that's what predator does to the prey."
Y/N started to feel really tired, muscles aching, throat dry from gasping for air, hair dispelled and cheeks red. She ran for a while, but now had to stop. Technoblade immediately appeared in her field of vision. He was walking carefuly, but still looked intimidating.
"Don't come closer!" She released a cry.
Piglin hybrid stopped about eight meters away. He leaned sword against the ground and looked at her with curious gaze.
'Here she is, our reward.' 'Let's finally take her with us.' 'We like that sound.'
"I think, I just caught you." A little grinn appeared on his lips.
She looked straight into his eyes. Her gaze full of fear met a calm and determination. Y/N didn't even want to think what would happend, if he fulfilled his desires. Gods sake, she was free human being, none could take her freedom, she didn't ask for this. In an act of desperation, with the last of her strength, she used her powers. Feeling of warm through fingers and energy drained from her veins, but then burning light. In Technoblade's towards direction flew literally fireball, but he was too skilled for this. He made a dodge and looked at Y/N with mix of proud and shock. She dropped to her knees, struggling to stay conscious, despite the pain at her whole body and tired mind and unclear vision. Technoblade immediately was with her, he knelt down and support her, by putting arm around her waist. Y/N leaned back against his chest, fatigue prevailed over reason.
"Enough for today princess. You run out, if you will keep resisting." He whispered calmly.
"Please, please... please I don't want this, I want to go home." Her voice was cracking, tears strimming down at her cheeks.
"Hush darling, everything will be all right."
Technoblade's body radiated warm, his tone suddenly was so calming and sleepy. She wanted to close eyes so badly, but still fear was too big.
"You are safe, nothing can hurt you I promise."
After this words Y/N gave up and lost consciousness. Sun went down and shadows became longer and darker.
}*{
Phil careful closed the doors, then walked quietly down. Technoblade sat in kitchen with cup of hot tea, he immediately looked at his old friend, his eyes were worrying.
"Y/N is good, she lost consciousness, because was too tired. You said that, she used her powers."
"It was literally fireball, but I dodge that easy."
"Well, now we know about her powers at least... interesting, what you are going to do, when she wake up?" Phil asked and sat in opposite site.
"I know, that you are not glad about this, but I will figure this out. She won't cause any troubles." Techno's voice became deeper.
Winged man sighed and looked at his friend. He knew what he was going through, when voices became louder and demanded blood, each moment of silence or when they were quiet, Technoblade cherished and tried to make it worth. Phil couldn't be angry or mad for his friend about that deed, but... he was torn.
"Come on spit it out. I can see that you want to tell something important." Piglin hybrid said slowly.
"We were through a lot of shit, we know each other for almost ages and we blew up the nation for gods sake, kidnapping isn't the worst thing you have done, but..." Phil started and looked at Techno. "I wish you best and everything good, but I don't know how will I act around. Y/N has come to me for books, we were talking about stuff, I gave her cookies and tea. How will I explain, that I am supporting your decision? And I am always on your side." Phil said aloud his worries.
"I will give her time to get used to. After certain amount of time Y/N will understand." The Blade was lost in his thoughts.
He was so greatful of his friend statement, but still a little bit unsure. This case shloudn't affect on their relationship or Phil's life. Honestly Technoblade belived that his pressence will comfort Y/N at least, as he said they were close and enjoyed each other company.
"Someone will notice her disappering. What then? And Ranboo is visiting us a lot." Phil sighed a little.
"I've got this, trust me."
"I trust you with my own life." Winged man nodded.
}*{
Sunlight kissed her skin gently, when it showed up on window. Y/N felt softness under herself and on her back. Quiet sigh left her lips, when she opened eyes. In the room was very bright, but for sure it wasn't her room. Immediately cold shiver went down at her spine. Still weak, she tried to lift herself, because she was lying on stomach. Bed was big, with good beddings and pillows.
"Don't move, you are still weak." Technoblade's voice was soft, but loud.
Y/N bite her lip and then lifted head. He was standing near the bed and observing curiously, looking completly diffrent. White, linen shirt and high waisted, leather trousers, hair braided tighly. In this version he was... more open and accessible, not so scary.
"Where am I?" She asked slowly and rolled at her back with quiet hiss. Muscles still hurt and throat was dry.
"In my house, in tundra safe and..." He cut off, while noticed that Y/N is trying to get up. "What did I say?" He stepped closer and sat on bed.
She sat unsure on mattress, just to met Technoblade here, he gripped again her chin, as in the forest and forced her to look at him. This time it was more gently.
"Darling please..."
"You can't take my freedom!"
His eyes darkened immediately and Y/N regreted her words. She swallowed hard, when Blade looked deep into her eyes.
"Of course I can and I will, if you don't behave good. If you didn't notice, you aren't chained or tied, but pretty comfy in my bed." He said slowly with threat in his voice. "Think about it."
Technoblade released her and got up. She looked down thinking about situation, yes he didn't tied her, but still it wasn't good case. Y/N just wanted to be free, do stuff which she want and meet friends. Maybe Smp wasn't perfect, but still now it was her home, there were a lot of wars or argues, but she still had house and persons which she cared about and this was mutual, now everything was unsure.
"I am just afraid... " Y/N whispered quietly.
"As I said earlier you are safe here, you are safe with me. Nothing can hurt you." Techno grabbed bowl with soup and came back. "Here, eat, you need to recover."
"Thanks." She smiled weakly to him, took bowl and started to eat slowly.
'Good girl.' 'She will behave for sure.' 'We can teach her a lesson.'
Y/N was napping for the rest of the day, Technoblade gave her one of their books, so she wasn't bored. Probably tomorrow or next day she will stand up.
The sound of closing doors, caused her to closed book and put it away. Piglin smiled gently and took off his shirt suddenly. Y/N eyes became big.
"Wait wait wait..."
"Calm down princess, I am just going to sleep, nothing else." Technoblade smirked for her panic.
"So... where shloud I move?" Y/N asked looking around the room.
"Nowhere. You are staying here with me."
Immediately her cheeks went slighty red. She looked at him curiously. His pink skin seemed gentle from the distance, a lot of scars marked his chest and arms. Some of them little, some of them large, the biggest one was through both sides of chest. Technoblade released his hair and came closer. Y/N moved to make him some space. He laid down, she followed his steps but remain distance.
"Goodnight." She said and turned back from him.
"Goodnight sweetheart."
He blow up torches near the bed and silence fell upon them. Not even a five minutes passed, when Y/N felt sudden grip on her waist. She froze, Technoblade hugged her and pressed kiss on her shoulder.
"What are you doing?" Quiet whisper left her lips.
"Snuggling and cuddling." He whispered softly.
Y/N couldn't help, she giggled quietly. Techno took this as premission, her back touched his chest and second hand slowly stroked her hair.
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A Siren Song
Pairing: Robert Dubois/ Bloodsport x Reader
A/N: so I just finished watching the new Suicide Squad for the second time and I’m even more obsessed now than I was the first time I watched it. It’s a brilliant film with actually good humor, a non-sexualizing and actually empowering view on Harley Quinn (that leg scene?? y'all-), the rats?? Rat-catcher 2?? THE SHARK?? FLAG?? Who looked really good in this movie, he might be another contender for a story as well as Harley Quinn so lmk ;) but Bloodsport immediately piqued my interest because it’s Idris Elba and he’s gorgeous, I loved the complexities of his character and I want to write for him and no one else has done it yet?? so shoutout to @honey-im-emotional​​ for the support and push to do it! also love The Bodyguard movie, helped with the inspo <3 and i’m so sorry all of my stories are similar but I HAVE A TYPE enjoy and feedback is always appreciated loves and there will be SPOILERS so be warned, also if you want a Harley one next lmk ;) (it’s so long I’m so sorry lol)
Summary: You’re a highly targeted member of the royal family, the last in your line. Bloodsport is hired to be your bodyguard to both watch and assassinate the men after you. He believes it’s below his pay-grade, but reluctantly agrees, doing so to the best of his abilities. But the closeness brings more intimacy than you two expected, and sparks fly.
Warnings: foul language, sexual content, smut, choking, light bdsm, fluffy fluff, dirty dancing, dirty talk, violence and bad guys getting murdered, mentions of Harley x Reader (y’all sexy dance and kiss), reader likes women, dom! Bloodsport, age gap, alcohol consumption, jealousy, heavy kissing, slight angst, just a good time honestly
Word Count: 3,825
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You dangle from the ceiling with your aerial silk, fitting your leg in the loop you’ve created, and dangling upside down. The rope wraps around your waist as you hang gracefully from your marble walls, flying. Your friend Harley Quinn taught you how to do this years ago, it now being your favorite form of exercise and relaxation when you need a moment to clear your head. 
As you lightly spin, twirling and dancing in the air with your chandelier reflecting light everywhere, a dazzling fairy floating in a sea of stars. You hear footsteps approach and move to hang upside down, facing towards the grand door. Robert Dubois, a.k.a Bloodsport, walks forward to stand directly in front of you. 
You have known him a few weeks or so now, him having to watch your every move and tracking down your family’s killers. He stands and meets your eyes as you dangle, hair falling below you.
“Hi,” you giggle, face flushed with heat. “I probably look ridiculous right now.”
He composes himself so he doesn’t crack a smile, but you see his lips twitch when he speaks, “No, Mrs. y/l/n.”
“I have a first name, you know,” you grin widely. “I’m younger than you, which hardly warrants such a professional title.”
“My apologies, y/n,” he fixes himself.
“It’s alright,” you ease, filling him with a sense of softness he hasn’t felt in a long time. You flip and land on your feet, letting go of your silks. 
You don’t notice as his eyes glaze over your body in your sports bra and shorts, something his cold, calculated stare should never succumb to, but he does anyway and he kicks himself for doing it. You’re his client and should therefore remain as such, no conflict of interest or thoughts other than to protect. He didn’t want this job, hell, he still doesn’t know why he said yes. Maybe it was the money. Or maybe it was upon seeing you that first time, in that star-studded gown the night of a charity gala you were attending, the way the diamond littered fabric hung over your figure, absolutely dazzled. The way you looked at him and smiled, like you were used to with all the other nobles and adoring fans. But he let himself believe it was different.
He can’t do that anymore, however, because he can’t allow for any complications. And falling for his boss is certainly a complication. 
You look at him and your eyes widen with realization, “Oh, I’m sorry. Let me cover up.”
You grab a tee shirt and toss it over your exercise clothes. He looks down as you do so and clears his throat. This brings a small smile to your face.  
“You called me in here,” he gestures to the necklace charm hanging around your neck that you can squeeze and send an instant distress signal whenever you need it. “What can I do for you, y/n?”
“Wanted you to spot me,” you tease, a smile overtaking your delicate features. You have a sort of stunning beauty about you that takes him by surprise every time he lays eyes on you. Which is often. You lay on your yoga mat and sit up straight with that same damned smile. 
“I’m here to do a job, y/n,” he says, his deep, honeyed voice coating the way he says your name like heat to sugar. “Not aid you in your workout routine.”
“What? Your assassin training didn’t include sit ups?” you smile, tongue in cheek.
“No, but if you need a way to kill a man with a book,” he presses a foot over both of yours as you begin to do sit ups. “Then I’m your man.”
“Yeah, you and John Wick,” you breathe out with a laugh. “And shouldn’t you be in here watching me already? Not by the door?”
“This room has no windows and no other door or entrance besides the one I was standing by. I thought you would want privacy,” he averts your gaze. “I’m sure it’s a hard thing to come by these days for a woman like yourself.”
You stop what you’re doing and look up at him, blinking, “Well, you’d be right,” you tuck your hair back. “So thank you.”
He meets your eyes, bordering on a smile, “You’re welcome.”
“Is that a smile I see?” you chuckle.
The smile shines, “It was a diversion. And you failed.”
You laugh loudly, “Will the next diversion be an actual laugh?”
“Wouldn’t be a proper diversion if you knew what it was.”
You tap his feet so he’ll get the hint and let you up. You rise to your feet and dust yourself up, “I appreciate your spotting.” You press a hand to his chest and hum. Warmth radiates from your palm and he inhales sharply. “For someone who wasn’t trained, you sure are a fast learner.”
He looks at your hand and back to your eyes, heat sprouting from where your hand touches. His hand flexes at his side as he looks around the room, to the door, seeing if it’s closed. 
“I-” he cocks an eyebrow then settles. “I think I should go.”
He watches you look at him with wounded eyes, brow lowered, you open your mouth then close it. 
You nod, moving away from him, “Right.”
You move to walk away when he stops you, mouth by your ear, voice dropping an octave when he whispers, “Just so you know-” you tilt your head up almost instinctively to hear him better. “-my assassin training did include reminding people who they are when they’ve forgotten their place.”
You look up at him fully now, “You work for me, remember?”
“I work for money. And you didn’t hire me. I was employed by Mrs. Waller to keep you alive,” he cocks his head slightly. 
“So it would be frowned upon by her when you’re unable to walk if you touch me like that again.”
You couldn’t believe he had just said that. Your eyes widen and your cheeks once again heat up, blushing. Your chest gets hot when he doesn’t break the stare like he’s calling your bluff, and fuck, did he do just that. You turn away from him.
You can hear the smile in his voice, “That’s what I thought.”
~~~
“Robert said that!?” Harley exclaims, eyes wide. Her jaw is dropped as she does her mascara aggressively in the mirror. “He’s usually so...”
You tug down your tiny halter top over your head, your bright, flattering makeup complementing the colorful swirling pattern, “An empty void with no emotion?”
She nods emphatically, agreeing, “Exactly! I had no idea he had it in him?” she raises her brow and smooths down her leather black and red dress, “Or that he wanted to put it in you-”
You slap her arm, chastising, “You don’t know that. It might have been a threat to actually paralyze me in a very not sexual way.”
“I say both are arousing,” she shrugs, platinum curls bouncing.
You roll your eyes with a small smile aimed at the floor, “Anyway-” you slip a belt through your tight jeans, hitting at your waist when you cinch it in. “We should get going if we want to get to the club on time.”
She pauses. “Y/n. Are you sure we should be doing this?”
You do a double take, “You’re telling me that we shouldn’t sneak out and have a good time?”
“I know the irony is apparent,” she looks at you with a knowing stare. “But not if it means you’re in danger. Which you are.”
“I know,” you frown. “But I’ve been locked in this house for months, I miss going out and having a life. I’m tired of being coddled.”
“I know, sweetheart,” she sighs, looking past herself in the mirror to flash me a sympathetic smile. She thinks for a beat and finally spins around, “Alright, screw it, doll, let’s go paint the town.”
You buzz with excitement, grinning, “Yay! Thank you, thank you! I wonder who will be djaying...” you trail off. 
Harley’s face falls and her mouth goes in a solid, straight line, looking past your shoulder, “I don’t think anyone will be.”
You laugh, completely oblivious, “Of course there will be. There has to be music. Dancing in silence would be pretty fucking awkward.”
“This moment is pretty fucking awkward.”
“What do you mean?”
A deep, irritated voice sounds off behind you, “Because you’re not going.”
You jump out of your skin, “Shit, Robert! You scared the hell out of me!”
“You’re not going to that club,” he folds his arms over his chest. You look over him and his casual, night wear: a loose tee and low hanging joggers. You almost wipe your mouth from salivating. Your outfit elicits the same reaction.
You pinch your eyebrows together, “You can’t tell me what to do.”
“Yes, I can. I’m tasked with protecting you.”
“Yeah. And nowhere on your job description does it say ‘become my parent’. There’s not an opening now just because I don’t have one. I am a grown ass woman and I have been a prisoner in my own home. The same home where...” you pause, a lump in your throat at the reminder of your family’s passing. You shake it off, “I’m just tired. I want a piece of my life back. You can either stay here or come. Either way I’m going.”
He gives you a quick once over and contemplates his options before dropping his arms to his sides and letting out a long exhale.
“Fine.”
You somewhat relax at his defeated tone, “Fine, what?”
He relents, “You can go, but I’m coming with you. But if anything happens to you, I’m not to be blamed. I will leave your ass in that club.”
You grin and jump up to give him a tight hug around the neck. He stiffens before slowly rubbing your back. You sink into his embrace, feeling like you were floating in water, now above the surface as he brings you back to oxygen. Harley smiles at the exchange and she winks theatrically. 
He glares. 
It’s not long before you three arrive at the club, music blaring and colorful lights flashing over the crowded floors. From his stare and intimidating aura, the club staff thought he was a bouncer and let you all in immediately. But before he was roped into working, the three of you bee-lined to the bar. 
“The prettiest and strongest drink ya got, sugar,” Harley smiles at the pretty bartender.
“And what if that’s me?” she responds, ebony hair falling onto one shoulder.
“Then I’ll have to drink you later,” Harley gives her a flirty once over and you roll your eyes.
The bartender grins and gestures towards me for my order, I answer quickly, “Scotch on the rocks.”
Robert looks at you, poorly covering his shocked expression. “Really?”
“Yeah, why?” you look up at him.
“Didn’t peg you for a straight liquor type, Ms. y/l/n,” he finally lets his hidden laugh show through, butterflies erupting in your chest. The diversion definitely worked, whatever you were thinking about before this has immediately left you.
“Then this is going to be the first surprise of many tonight, Mr. Dubois,” you return the smug look as he orders the same thing. You both share a look.
The bartender slides you all your drinks, each of you taking a long swig for liquid courage for the night. Harley’s favorite Doja Cat song comes on and she gasps, clapping excitedly when she grabs you by the wrist, pulling you on the dance floor, “Come dance with me.”
You mouth a small ‘sorry’ to Bloodsport who you left at the bar, he shakes his head with a smile over the rim of his glass, watching you guys’ drinks. 
She dances wildly, jumping up and down, spinning to let her hair fall in many beautiful angles. She’s a powerful force and your greatest friend. She puts her arms around your neck and the two of you move in time with the music.
“So...” she motions to Bloodsport who’s being forced into a conversation with a woman at the bar. The woman puts her hand on his and he visibly shrinks back and whispers something to her that causes the most horrid look from the woman and for her to walk quickly away. You smile at the relief that interaction has brought you.
“So what?” you spin her around and pull her back.
“Quit with the good dancing, or I’m gonna fuck you myself,” she teases with a lightheaded giggle.
You smile, “We’ve tried that already, remember?”
“Too much history, I know, I know. Doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be nice...” she whispers into your neck, kissing the soft spot under your chin. Your skin heats up under her touch as she drags her hands down your sides, pulling you close to her so that you’re flush against her chest.
You give into her and kiss her slowly, her soft lips melt into your own when her hands tug in your hair. Harley and you have always had a complicated friendship, with enough sexual attraction to fuel a nuclear bomb, but not enough romantic. You love each other but not in the way you both need. You were in love with Robert and she is continuing to explore her sexuality because she likes women and so do you. So as she trails her hot mouth down your neck in the middle of dozens of bustling bodies and you lock eyes with an angry Bloodsport, you knew exactly what she was doing.
You whisper, out of breath, “Are you trying the jealousy trick?”
“It worked in college, didn’t it?” she kisses your cheek, smiling gently against your skin. “And it’s working now.”
“I think you’re just obsessed with kissing me,” you kiss her back.
“It was a win-win situation, doll,” she grins devilishly and you can’t help but agree. “So when you’re done with him, come see me. But right now, I have a sexy bartender lady to drink up.” You grip her hand and let her make her way to her next conquest.
Robert had seen the tail-end of your kiss, his deft fingers clenched around his whiskey glass. He knows he shouldn’t let this sort of thing affect him, something as juvenile and simple as jealousy. But he couldn’t stop that feeling of being stuck, unable to think about anything except the fact that it wasn’t him with his hands on you like that, lips marking you as much as he pleases. Sadness washed over him in a tidal wave and he set his glass down, about to get up to leave when he spotted a man eyeing you from the door. He looked familiar and it wasn’t just attraction he sensed in his eyes but something far more sinister.
A few more men followed suit and began making their way to you in the middle of the dance floor. He had no time to consider the facts, just to get you out of there as soon as possible. 
You feel a rough hand tug your arm and turn to face who you think to be Dubois, you smile, “Enjoy the show?”
“Very much,” an unknown voice answers, and you look up, eyes wide. “Now why don’t you come with me for a little talk, beautiful.”
“Get the fuck off of me,” you yank your arm back, slamming your heel down into the perpetrator’s foot. More men surround you on all sides, making it impossible for you to escape or use your subpar martial arts skills. Aerial yoga was a very different ballpark than kicking ass. And you were just a beginner.
You poorly punch a man in the face, only making them all angrier when you’re grabbed from all sides, being dragged towards the exit kicking and screaming. You didn’t want to be that helpless damsel in distress, but as all of these men, men you recognized from your family’s death, were surrounding you, you couldn’t breathe. Their hands felt familiar, grabbing your arms like they’d done that night before you hid in the secret door in the dining room. You had watched these faceless men through a hole in that door, stifling your cries when bullets sprayed the room your family was having dinner in. So while they were coming after you and pulling you outside, it’s all you felt. That same feeling when he wasn’t near.
Drowning.
There’s a hand that pulls you back and you watch, dazed, as Bloodsport puts every man who touched you on the ground. It’s filled with swift yet aggressive and barbaric movements, controlled, expert chaos and it happens within moments. His chest is heaving when he looks down at you and scoops you up in his arms. You’d object in any other circumstances, but this time, head against his chest and tucked in his arms, you were okay.
His voice rumbles against your side, “We’re going home.”
~~~
Harley’s tears hit your shoulder as you sympathetically pat her back.
“I’m so sorry, y/n. I shouldn’t have left,” she sniffles loudly. “I should’ve been there.”
You laugh softly, fitting your head into her shoulder, “It’s okay, Harls. It’s not your fault, there was no harm done.”
“There could have been,” she sighs. “I’m not letting you convince me to go out next time, you’re staying here forever.”
You roll your eyes with a smile, “Alright.”
She gets up and sniffs, wiping at her nose that’s now flushed from crying, “Good because I’m serious.”
“I know,” you laugh again, hugging yourself in a hoodie much too large for you, (because you stole it from Rick Flagg) swallowing you whole. 
Your eyes wander down the hall to where Robert is no doubt pacing around in your bedroom, the only room not laden with cameras (ironically for privacy). You kick at the floor in your fuzzy socks and think of an excuse to go check on him, even though you’re probably the last person he wants to see right now. You, frankly, don’t care.
“I’m gonna go-” 
“Check on Robert?” she finishes. “I know, honey. I was a psychiatrist, I’m not stupid.”
You crack a smile and grip her arm affectionately as you walk past her towards the bedroom. You don’t even take the risk of knocking for fear he’ll lock it and try your luck with just simply opening it. You see him, shirtless with a towel over his shoulder, a low hanging towel wrapped around his waist, while nursing his knuckles. He looks you over once you enter the room, trained eyes on you and the intimidation is definitely working already when he takes the damp towel on his shoulder and dabs the cuts on his skin.
He remains silent and you move to sit down on your bed, the awkward squeak filling the already high-tension atmosphere, thick enough to make your ears pop like you’re in an airplane too far up in the sky.
“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, drawing his eye. 
He hums and steps into your bathroom, washing off his hands. 
You frown at his lack of response, “Are you really going to pout this whole time? Because honestly, it’s beneath you, Robert.” You lean forward, watching as he walks out of the bathroom, still half naked, still silent. 
The silence is beginning to slowly kill you, especially when he looks this good, water droplets running down his chiseled torso from a hot shower. You didn’t let your mind wander because if the reaction your body is giving from the image before you was any indication, you want him. He walks in the room once again, mouth in an amused yet firm line. 
In actuality, he was ashamed of himself. Not so much of you. He would’ve left as that despair overcame him back in that bar. He would’ve left you there and abandoned his mission, leaving you to be hurt. If it hadn't been for those men, you could’ve been killed and it would be his fault. He alerted Waller of the attack, making up a lie about the two of you going for a walk at night and getting ambushed there rather than at a club. There’s a hit on each of those men being taken out as we speak as well as a search for their boss. Even though that still got him chewed out. He couldn’t imagine what she’d do to him if she found out the truth.
Robert walks slowly towards you, leaning against the bed frame, gesturing for you to continue. You watch him, distracted, as he wraps a bandage around his knuckles.
“I shouldn’t have kissed her to get a rise out of you, that was hurtful,” you exhale your words, quiet enough he wouldn’t be able to hear you if you weren’t within a breath of one another. You hang your head, “And it was stupid to go out in the first place when I am in this much danger. I could’ve been killed, and you could have been hurt. I’m sorry.”
He represses a laugh at the idea of him getting hurt, when the two of you both know that would never happen. But as the silence from him grows thicker, the more you start to ramble.
“Okay, this silent treatment isn’t going to work for much longer. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but you need to stop.”
He gives you a look that says ‘make me’. But you both know you couldn’t if you tried, and vice versa. He thinks of you as a siren, one of those alluring creatures in old sailor tales that lured unsuspecting men to their painful deaths. As if he has no control of the way he feels about you. Which in a way he does, but he knows better. He knows better than to fall under your enchanting song, but he can’t help but be pulled beneath the surface of the water. 
Robert tenses when you move forward and the hoodie falls off one of your shoulders, revealing more of your chest, the smooth skin that lays there. 
His chest tightens when you look up at him and sigh.
“But thank you for saving me,” you say, both because you think that’s what he wants to hear but also because you mean it, you wouldn’t be here at all if he didn’t come with you.
He licks his lips and nods his head in simple recognition. He appreciated the apology, truly he did, but a part of him enjoyed the way you continued to ramble on, so he remained silent. This was an old interrogation tactic he learned when he served, keeping quiet always got people talking. He looks down at you and leans to meet your face, hands on either side of you. 
“I don’t know what else you wish for me to say,” you admit quietly, fiddling with your hands.
He didn’t know either but whatever you would say, he would listen.
“So I take it you’re not mad anymore?” you infer from his relaxed posture, heart beating out of your chest, fast enough that it catapults to your throat. 
He tilts his head down so he’s an inch before your mouth, breath fanning over your face. when he tugs you up to your feet, hands gripping the sides of your waist when he pulls you close. Your heartbeats began to sync up, chest to chest.
“I’m fucking furious, sweetheart.”
You meet his eyes, looking up in that seductive stare of yours you never knew you were capable of until him, and close the distance, kissing him lightly. His arms falter by your side and it’s the first time you’ve seen him hesitate, losing his cool. It’s the most gentle thing he’s ever experienced, everything in his life being forced, hostile, and malicious, while your soft lips against his are anything but. You kiss him like he’s not the monster he thinks himself to be. 
“Then let me make it up to you.”
“Fuck,” he grips your sides harder, palm moving to push you closer with his hand flat against the small of your back. “We shouldn’t.”
You search his face for uncertainty, but all you sense is a profound sense of clarity, in the both of you. “I know.”
“Will you regret this?”
You shake your head, hand against his cheek, “No.”
His dark eyes fall to your lips, pupils filling his dark brown irises, lust blown, “You’re so good, baby. You’re too good for me.”
Before you can tease him about the new nickname and object to that, his lips have crashed against your own. His hand slides up to cup the side of your face, drinking you in with his intoxicating kiss. You hum, content, against his feverish mouth and he opens it, vulnerable and on display. You feel his guard still up, tense and calculated, so you rest your hand against his chest. You press a kiss to his eyelid, his cheek, his nose, his chin, his jaw, his neck. He softens beneath you, groaning aloud as his hands tighten. 
“You don’t need to be afraid with me,” you whisper to him, tender fingers trailing down his shirtless chest, hot skin against hot skin. It’s enough to make you sweat.
He exhales and captures your bottom lip with his own, holding your face in both of his hands. The kiss grows heated and rushed, like you’re running out of time, as if at any moment those men would come back and find you and take you away from him again. His tongue expertly works with your own, licking the pout of your bottom lip, and coaxing you open. He slides his hand down between your legs, dipping his finger to find the slick in the middle of your thighs. You moan into his mouth, his other hand at the back of your neck when he buries his face in your shoulder. He kisses you there, the crook where your neck meets your collarbone, that damned sensitive spot. You succumb to his touch. His beard tickles your skin and you gasp when he sucks hard, a bruise forming.
You breathe a laugh, “Everyone will see if you leave a mark,” you tug on his hair when you thread it through his coarse curls. 
He falls under your spell and there’s something so ironically beautiful about this trained assassin with a heart of gold and the scars to show for it, being so open with you.
His hands, his entire life, have been forced to be instruments of death and violence. But as they slide down your figure, holding your face, and pulling you into him, they’re his greatest gift. He’s surprisingly tender with you. 
But then he has enough and pushes you down on the bed, arms trapping you on both sides.
He responds bluntly, “I don’t care.”
You part your legs for him and he releases a shaky breath. He slowly unzips your sweatshirt and it falls off you just as you do the same and tug his towel down. Both of you are bare before the other as you take a moment to drink each other in. You were just as, if not more, beautiful than he imagined you to be. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he says quietly as his hand drapes down the line of your figure. He touches you how someone would handle a glass vase filled with flowers. 
You take his face in both of your hands and kiss him, “So are you.” 
“I don’t think you know what you do to me, baby.” His hand finds your breast and squeezes while he kisses your neck.
You moan when he uses his other hand to grip your neck, thumb against your pulse point, “If it’s anything like how I feel right now, then yes, I do.”
He lifts his head up to watch your face as he chokes you, softly so he doesn’t hurt you but hard enough to play with your breath. His thumb opens your mouth and your legs tremble. 
“So I take it you’re into choking, my love?” You nod excitedly, unable to speak, and his grip tightens. 
You let out a squeak and he releases, face etched with worry, kissing your neck where he touched you. “Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry.” 
You shake your head and smile comfortingly, “No, baby, I’m okay. I’ll tap out if it’s too rough, I promise,” you tease.
His grumbling voice deepens, “Good... because, darling, right now all I want to do is bury my face in between those gorgeous thighs of yours.”
You inhale sharply when he opens your legs once again, looking up at you and you nod in consent.
“I need words, beautiful,” he smirks with his mouth just above your center. 
“Yes, please,” you breathe out and he responds with a swift lick to your pussy. He looks up at you and when he catches your eye, it’s as if the sensation grows stronger and your head hits your pillow.
“I’ve barely even touched you,” he mumbles into you and you feel his smug smile in your thigh. His fingers dip into you as he flattens his tongue and crooks them towards himself, you grip your sheets.
“Don’t... flatter yourself,” you sigh out. “I-it’s just been awhile.”
He removes his mouth and fingers from you, “So anyone can make you feel like this?”
You enjoy the feeling you get when he looks at you like that, his eyes dark and dominant, so you play along and nod. “Yes, in fact, I’ve had better.”
He licks his lips and gets up from the bed. He opens his drawer and you sit up to look what he grabs: a belt. Your heart beats excitedly in your chest even though you know you shouldn’t be. He gets back on the bed and climbs over you.
Robert looks at you, “Hands.”
You extend them to him wordlessly, watching as he ties your wrists together and puts them over the bedpost so you’re trapped there, unable to move.
“Now,” he holds himself above you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “You’re to stay tied up until I say so, anything like that again and they get tighter. Nod if you understand me.”
You nod emphatically. You had never seen this side of Robert before, so in control and not afraid to go too far, it was so unbelievably sexy. 
The best part was he didn’t tie it tight enough, afraid of hurting you, so you could easily slip out your hands at any moment.
He kisses, painfully slow, down your chest and wraps his lips around your nipple. He swirls his tongue around the erect bud and you gasp, desperate to touch him. He looks up at you from you chest as he switches to the other, massaging the unattended one as he sucks, the pleasurable feeling overwhelming you. So much so you have to clench your thighs together, longing for some sort of relief for the tension building in your abdomen.
“Baby, please,” you whine, squirming beneath him.
He shuts you up with a bruising kiss while his hand slips down to enter you, two fingers in already. He pumps them in and out of you before sliding back down the expanses of your body and letting his mouth latch onto your clit. He sucks hard and you stifle a loud moan that would surely alert everyone in the home of your arousal. He holds you down against the bed with a palm flat against your stomach as you begin to lift your pelvis. His tongue enters you while his fingers take over, stimulating you with gentle rubs and flicks. But just before you feel that euphoric release, his actions cease and you’re left hot and flustered. 
“Robert,” you look at him with a deep frown.
He grins, “Y/n...”
You blow hair out of your eyes, “I hate you.”
“No you don’t.” He puts his lips near your ear, “Are you ready?” You nod as he pushes himself inside you and you bite back a moan into his shoulder. 
You finally have enough, slip your hands out, and he pinches his brow, unable to hide his shock before you bring him down to press your lips against his. He melts into you, arms wrapped around you while he holds you close, filling you out in all the right places. He quickens his pace and you whine into his mouth, nails digging into his skin. You wrap your legs around his torso and he hits you so nicely. He was right, it’s the best you’ve ever had. He rises and looks at you, lips swollen and red from kissing, eyes clear and pupils large, and face flushed with heat. Your hair is in messy tendrils at all angles and you’ve never been more attractive.
“You’re doing so good,” he praises in your ear, placing kisses across your jaw. “Taking my cock so well.”
You whimper and his movements stiffen as he approaches release and so do you, walls tightening around him. He reaches down and rubs your clit with his expert fingers. You finish together, mouths open and hands all over each other’s bodies. It overcomes you in a tingling, perfect sensation, it continues on, leaving you aching and wanting more.
He rubs his knuckles over your cheek, softly and adoringly he looks at you. You tuck yourself into his arms under the blankets. Everything you both have wanted for a long time, laying right in front of you.
“Still want to make me not walk?” you tease, looking up at him.
He kisses your eyelids and you giggle, “Fuck yes.”
Part 2?
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Dog Tags
Billy Russo x Female!Reader
Request by @nebulastarr​ : Hey! Whenever requests open up again, could you do a Billy Russo x Reader where the reader liked Billy but doesn’t want to tell him because she thinks he won’t feel the same way
A/N: I was going to wait and get down to writing this once I was finished with my series... But this one has simply hit a little too close to home. I couldn’t stop thinking about it when I saw it and I ended up putting a lot of personal stuff in it so I’m sorry if it feels chaotic at times. Thank you for requesting, love, I hope it lives up to your expectations.    The Only Living Thing series will be back with its third part next week.  The song: Isak Danielson - Power
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All you heard was an excited scream, that raised above all of the New York’s past-6-pm commotion, as a slender tall body smashed into you, locking you in a bone-crushing hug. You laughed happily, albeit feeling a little bit uncomfortable in Karen’s strong hold. You knew it didn’t seem that way, but Karen packed a wicked punch in those elegant arms of hers. Those self-defense sessions with Frankie boy that she’s been gushing about over the phone must have been finally paying off.
“Once I am done hugging you, I am so kicking your ass,” she breathed out into your hair as she squeezed you harder, as if reading your thoughts. “You’ve been ghosting me for what, a month now?”
You sighed guiltily as Karen pushed you slightly away, keeping her hands on your shoulders. You watched her as she studied your face, a creeping smile stinging at the corners of her mouth.
Grabbing one of her elbows, you groaned dramatically, pulling her towards the busy road. With your hands locked, you finally admitted:
“I did suck at communicating these past couple of weeks. Work’s been…. hectic”, the lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but this was the best explanation you’ve been able to come up with so far. “Please don’t kill me”.
Trying to keep up with your power walk, Karen let a bubbling laughter leave her lips.
“You’re not the one who should be worried then,” she gave you one of those bright trademark smiles of hers. “Next time I’m going to interview Russo, I’ll…”
You stuttered at her tirade as you walked, and of course it didn’t go by unnoticed. Karen was the best journalist you have ever met during your prominent career. She just sensed that sort of thing.
“I’m getting this ‘I-meant-to-tell-you-Karen-but-I-didn’t-and-now-you’ll-need-to-fight-it-out-of-me’ vibe”, she gave you a scrutinising look. “Want to maybe share whatever it is you’ve been not telling me before I go full interrogation mode on your plump backside?”
You rolled your eyes as you led her to a terrace-ringed Upper East Side high-rise, waving to the doorman through the glass doors. Jackson, a thirty-five year old ex-military with three kids and a labrador, gave you a brilliant smile as he hurried to open them for you.
“Good evening, Mrs Y/L/N!” He bowed his head in a stiff, very army-like manner. “A package arrived this afternoon for you, should I bring it up?”
From the corner of your eye, you caught Karen looking around, confusion written all over her face. You had a lot to catch up on.
“Don’t worry about it, Jax, just give it to me,” you didn’t mean to urge him, but you couldn’t wait to change out of your corporate attire into some comfortable old pyjamas and crack open a bottle of whiskey - that’s right, some habits did die hard. And to think you were a bubbles-kind of girl a year ago when you met him.
You could feel Karen’s blue eyes drill a hole in the back of your head as you took a small, envelope-sized package from Jackson’s hands.
It wasn’t until you both stepped into the elevator that Karen cleared her throat.
“When you said you’d rather have a girls’ night in, I asked Frank to pick me up from Queens, not from…here,” she spoke, her eyes skimming expensive red wood and mirrors. “Did you finally sleep with Russo and moved in with him?”
Whatever it was that Karen expected you to say to that, it definitely didn’t include you spitting out a roaring laugh, as you nearly dropped the package on the floor.
“Quite the opposite, actually,” you informed her after you finally restored your breath. “I left Anvil. And, well, Russo. At the end of last month”.
A half-bottle of whiskey for you and a bottle of white wine for Karen later, both of you were sprawled out on the lambskins thrown over the hardwood floor in your living room. Jazz music was seeping out of the speakers by the TV, a couple of Diptyque candles emitting a soft yellow glow.
You stared at the ceiling of your new living quarters, your mind a blur. As you folded your hands on your stomach, you felt Karen twitch as she bent her elbow and leaned her blond head on the palm of her hand, facing you.
“So let me get this straight,” she paused, narrowing her eyes. “After becoming the Forbes’ hottest CSO, concluding what can easily be described as deals of the century - especially the one with Anthony Stark aka Iron Man and his magnificent goatee…”
Involuntary, you giggled at this. This talk brought out some very dear memories that you wouldn’t trade for the world - the way Billy’s dark eyes shimmered in the dim lights of the opera house as he gave you a look that said you did it, ever the perfect team… Or the way he threw his arms around your frame, his long fingers sliding down your back… You knew you looked good in that dress, but the moment Billy saw you wearing it… You felt like the only girl in the world, the way his jaw dropped a tad, his lips opening up in awe…
Oookay, Y/N, can’t go there, your mind screamed at you as you wiped that dreamy smile off your face. Sitting down, you took your whiskey glass, and washed those memories away with a gulp of amber liquid.
Meanwhile, Karen ranted on.
“…you just quit?!”
She jumped to her feet all of the sudden, brushing her blond hair away from her face as she watched you excitedly.
“Jesus Christ, did Billy make a move?! He made a move on you, didn’t he?”
The urge to facepalm was fierce, almost overpowering, but you managed to resist. Slamming your empty glass against the floor harder than you intended, you gave her a bored look.
“No, Karen, why… Why in the world would you think that?” You sounded just a little short of desperate, so you cleared your throat. “I was his second-in-command, that wouldn’t have been appropriate…”
When you were done studying the flame, dancing within the glass walls of one of the nearby candles, you raised your eyes to meet Karen’s. She wore quite possibly the most blatant look of ‘you are shitting me’ on her face.  
“So you just quit?” she stared at you in disbelief, unblinking. “No explanations provided?”
“This wasn’t how it happened,” you said, hating the fact that you felt like you had to justify yourself. You brought your knees closer, hugging them tightly. “I…”
“…I’m here to see William Russo”. 

With a nonchalant gesture, you unbuttoned your Burberry coat, looking at a red-head secretary behind a desk that screamed power and status with every inch of its epic proportions.
Anvil was certainly new money. With all of those hedge funds injecting their cash into emerging companies, there was no shortage of these - entrepreneurial endeavours that didn’t last long.
You didn’t know that at the time, but you were going to make sure this one would.
“My name is Y/N Y/N/L,” you added, perching your sunglasses on top of your head. “He’s expecting me.”
The red-head gave you a polite smile before checking something on her Mac.
“Welcome, Miss Y/N/L,” she almost seemed shy, as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before standing up. “Mr Russo is indeed waiting for you. If you would like to follow me, please”.
As the redhead led you through the training grounds, packed with fit men and women that looked like they walked straight outta Gym Shark ad, you did notice a couple of vagrant stares in your direction. You couldn’t blame them. You looked slightly out of place; more Vogue than the setting allowed for.
You quit your job as the COO of a global FinTech company just weeks ago, looking for a new challenge. It was an adventure of a lifetime, and while your ex-executive board had literally begged you to stay, once you’d decided something, no promise of a generous promotion could make you change your mind. While you absolutely loved your job, working for one of the most prominent online payment giants in the world, it felt like it was time for you to step down. Due to all the processes and wise investments you’d initiated, the company could make millions of profits without their CEO having so much as to lift a finger.
And you, well, you lived for the hustle. And that’s exactly what you were here for.
You still had your doubts about Anvil’s owner and acting CEO, though. William “Billy” Russo had already become a household name in the financial circles, albeit the company he was spearheading had little to do with the FinTech space. Some said he had the potential to succeed; others badmouthed him for being ruthless and balancing on the very edge of legal limits.
In short, the man had you intrigued. So the very moment he called and invited you to drop by Anvil to talk strategy, you knew you had to meet him.
See the beast for yourself, so to speak.
The first thing you noticed about William Russo as you walked into his office, spacious and entirely transparent, with its glass walls overlooking the training grounds, was experience, for the lack of a better word. It was etched into his every handsome feature, especially into his scruff strong-willed jaw. As he raised his gaze to meet yours upon the red-head’s announcement, his black eyes swallowing you whole, you realized no light reflected on their surface. There was a certain confidence to him as he raised from his chair, his white shirt straining some over his chest, long dark strands of hair falling onto his long eyelashes. This man meant business, as those black impenetrable eyes zeroed in on yours. He almost seemed too flawless - to spotless to be an ex-marine, stained with blood and murder.
All that Hallmark handsomeness was nothing but a cover.
Before William Russo had even got a chance to open his mouth, you were determined to find out what was lurking underneath.
“Mrs Y/L/N”, the hot-shot gave you a polite smile. “Thank you for coming”.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Russo”, you didn’t move an inch. He may have invited you for interview, but he wasn’t the only one with a long set of demands.
You briefly wondered if he knew that.
Before your thoughts could take you further, William Russo made his way to you, composed and calculated. He stopped by your side, albeit for a moment; rolling the sleeves of his shirt further up, he shot the red-head a charming smile (nothing like the one he gave you).
“Olivia, would you please bring a fresh pot of coffee to the conference room? Mrs Y/L/N and I have a lot to discuss”.
When he turned back to face you, you noted unconsciously that he was taller than you expected, the top of your head barely reaching his shoulders. The cool and composed look was back on his face as he motioned towards the doors.
“Would you like to follow me, Mrs…”
“Y/N”, you cut in with a slight raise of your chin. “I’d also prefer to call you William while I tear Anvil’s strategy down”.
His reaction didn’t disappoint. Some tension left his arms, his stung-up body relaxing just enough for a spark of mischief and curiosity flicker its way to his eyes’ surface.
A twinkle of a smile danced across his lips as he bit on the inside of his cheek, nodding ever so slightly in approval.
“It’s Billy”, he said, amusement echoing in his every word. "I don’t expect any leniency, Y/N”.
“Good”, you replied instantly, looking him straight into his eyes. “That’s not what I came here for”.
He nodded again.
And this time, there was liveliness in the quirk of his brow and a touch of insecurity in the corners of his mouth.
Now that was the man you could potentially work with.
Working with William Russo was anything but predictable. There were, however, certain patterns to his way of handling things. Whatever the trouble was, Billy was good at seeing the bigger picture - he was usually able to put things into perspective, but there were occasions when he refused to. You dare say that sometimes, you felt like he thought that money didn’t matter - like Anvil’s financial prosperity didn’t matter - as long as his team got not to risk their lives one extra time. You watched him turn down several lucrative deals that you’d busted your ass to put on his table, because it involved sending his men a little too far from home, in a place where he had no strings to pull whatsoever should anything go south. A part of you (the part that wasn’t frustrated as hell) admired him for that - it didn’t, however, stop you from disagreeing with him, time and again.
You may have never been to Iraq, and may have never known the horrors of sleeping with the bombs exploding a mere kilometer away, but you knew a game-changer when you saw it. There were risks involved, there was no arguing about that, but those were calculated, and those kind of deals could make Anvil jump straight to the top of the private military sector overnight.
William and you disagreed.
When William and you disagreed, no voice was raised, no blood was spilt, but Billy usually became distant, cold and just short of snappy when those conversations took place.

He only crossed the line once. 


You were three months into your job as Anvil’s Chief Strategy Officer when Mayhew happened.
The clock on your desk showed midnight as you paced in your office, on the phone with Rex Mayhew, the U.S. Ambassador in Cairo. A cat-and-mouse game between the Egyptian Armed Forces and the nefarious arms dealer group had become common knowledge since a week or so; the U.S. special forces got involved in the conflict when it’d been discovered that the arms were being transported onto American soil. Rex, an old friend from your Yale days, had let you in on the fact that General Richard Ravelin, in charge of the operation, was looking to reinforce his rangs with private military before “neutralising the threat”. This was a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity, with a potential governmental recognition in play… and Billy wanted to hear nothing of it.
You were exhausted and barely hanging in there; Billy was categorical and stubborn.
You’ve dropped the phone on your table promising Rex you were going to give him an answer in two hours, tops. Taking a deep breath, you walked out of your office, your bare feet thudding on the parquet floors of the corridor. When you reached Billy’s hideout, you found the man leaning against his desk with a glass of whiskey in his unnerved hand.
“Billy…” you spoke firmly, barely stepping through the doorway. “Rex…”
“Can go fuck himself”.
Oh, okay. No sugarcoating this. Alright.
You saw his lips barely touch the amber liquid as he slammed the glass against the surface of his desk.
“I said no, Y/N,” he wasn’t facing you anymore, leaning on his desk with his hands digging into the wood, his back tense. “Please just go home. Have a good night sleep. We will talk about this tomorrow.”
You could have sworn you felt your head starting to fume. This was the third time Billy Russo was shutting you down. For the third time he was making you feel like an incompetent fool when you were trying to do your goddamn job.
Why in hell would he hire you if whatever vision you had for Anvil didn’t match with his own?!
“You could at least say this to my face, Billy,” you spoke a bit harshly before you could stop yourself. “You know, to my tired and disappointed face, with a mouth that you have been shutting up every time it offers you a deal of the century”.
This sounded so much better in your head.  
“Why did you hire me?” you asked almost immediately, trying to soften the impact of the words that had already escaped. “If this isn’t the direction in which you want to take your company, maybe I should just…”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, Y/N, just fucking leave already!” Billy snapped like a branch that’s been holding too much weight, the sound of it dry and final.
…maybe I should just rethink the entire plan.  
There was no point in finishing that sentence now, was there?
“I was there long before you came along, so I’d think I know a shitstorm in the making when I see one!” Billy was looking at you alright, brushing his hair back, his eyes black and void.
You had wished It would have been new to you - looking in William Russo’s eyes and not seeing him there. But it wasn’t. He was back to his Hallmark version of a man, but instead of playing a hero, he was now putting on his villain guise.
“Let’s get something straight here,” he leaned back on his desk, crossing his arms on his chest, his black eyes narrowed. “While you were making your way to the top of a rich-ass cookie-cutter FinTech company, I was crawling in the dirt in Iraq under a downpour of the Trident D5LE missiles. While the closest thing you’ve come to havin’ your hands dirty was bribing an investor or two, I was fucking beheadin’ people under the direction of the CIA,” his words were cold, measured and rhythmic, like a round of bullets being fired on a range. “You know nothing of what’s it like to be in the middle of that kind of shit show, princess, so when I fucking say no, you listen. Is that clear?”
Bark. Sit. Roll over.
“Crystal. Sir.”, you finally broke the heavy silence hanging in the air, just barely resisting the urge to salute him. “I’ll see myself out.”
Biting the inside of your cheek like your life depended on it, once you turned your back on him, your first thought was don’t you dare cry on his account, bitch and then almost right away wait at least until you’re home.
You could have sworn you heard William call your name in a stranded voice, but you made sure to slam the door somewhat hard as you left his office so you could pretend you didn’t hear him.
If you were to face him now, with all that power and toughness he exuded… You would never admit it, even to yourself, but you’d just end up on the floor, huddled into a shivering little ball.
You were grateful that the next day after the shit went down with Mayhew fell on a Friday. When you stumbled into your apartment in Queens at almost one in the morning, you immediately shot an email to the HR department asking for a day off. Once that’d been done, you dialled Rex to decline his offer to introduce Anvil to general Ravelin, washed the makeup off your face and crawled into bed, hugging the second pillow close to your chest.
You didn’t cry, if that’s what you’re wondering.
As you rolled out of bed in the morning at around 8 am, you took a shower and grabbed a coffee from the kitchen before settling behind your home office desk with a heavy head. When you opened up the Keynote presentation with your strategy outlined for the H1, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at the iPhone you left on your couch last night.
You weren’t going to check if you had any missing calls.
There was nothing you had left to say to each other.
…with your chest hollow, you powered up the screen. There were no missed calls and no new messages.
It all looked like you had another strategy to build now. If Billy Russo thought that calling you a rich-ass princess that knew nothing of the world, all butterflies and rainbows, was going to make you resign, then man, was he in for a surprise.
You once heard one of his men compare you to a military convoy, when the guy thought you weren’t listening.
He had no idea.
You spent the morning refilling you coffee cup and rebuilding your H1 plan from scratch. After about eleven calls with the people you knew could get you a foot in the door of the offices of some government officials, billionaires and generals, after typing, deleting and typing again for 5 hours straight, by 2pm you had a solid game plan. You were pretty sure it would still need some tweaking from Castle, who essentially held the role of the Chief Operating Officer, dispatching men and women on missions and planning operations, and, well, from Billy Russo.
The Badass-ex-Sniper-turned-CEO himself.    
You kept the email short and to-the-point, sending the document over to Russo with Castle on copy, saying you’d be in the office to debrief on Monday. 

Refusing to check whether your email’d been opened, you slammed your MacBook shut.
The rest of the day rolled on uneventfully. You grabbed a coffee with the People Culture Officer from your previous company, who also happened to be one of your dearest friends; then you picked up your dry cleaners and did some shopping, cracking for a pair of new shoes in Saks Fifth Avenue.
Shoes were, indeed, your weakness.
By the time you got home, the tired sun was yawning, stretching its rays in one last effort before rolling into bed. Humming a Dua Lipa song under your breath, you were putting your new Jimmy Choo’s away when you suddenly heard your phone ring.
You didn’t even have to look at it to know who it was. 

You checked the time, however, noticing is was two minutes after the official end of the working day.
“Hi, Y/N”, Billy spoke, clearing his throat. “Are you… Um… Any chance you’re available to meet tonight? I would really appreciate it if you could give me fifteen minutes of your time. Please.”
It sounded like the real Billy Russo was back around. Insecure. Rugged. Imperfect.
“Can you pick me up?” you asked softly, “I’ll text you my address. There’s a pizza place just around the corner, I could use a free slice”, you circled the cold coffee cup you left on the counter with your finger. “Free as in you’re paying, Russo”.
A laugh that came somewhere from within caressed your ear.
“Uh, yes, I’m actually… Yeah, thanks. I’m leaving the office now,” even if he tried to hide it, a shocked surprise still seeped through the cracks in between the vowels.
You chuckled silently at his reaction.
“Just one more thing,” you ventured, placing the cup in the sink and making your way to the balcony - your small piece of heaven with a wooden chair, pillows and lavender. As you stepped outside, you put oyour free hand on the railing, just to feel the coolness of it, the evening air and the gentle flower smell stroking your skin. “What kind of car should I be on the lookout for?”
Billy hesitated, biting his bottom lip, running his nervous fingers through the thick strands of dark hair. The setting sun was hitting him just from the right angle, making his sculpted cheeks look like they were made of marble.
“A Rolls Royce Wraith”, he squirmed, rubbing his forehead, probably realising how lame and pretentious it sounded. “I’ll call you once I’m downstairs”.
“Uh-huh”, you smirked, leaning on the railing with your forearms.
You saw Russo pinch the bridge of his nose, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip again. 

Your small balcony provided quite a view, when you really thought about it.
“Don’t take too long”, you couldn’t help it, it really was stronger than you. “I’m starving”.
With a wide grin, you dropped the call and went back into your apartment.
You were planning to make him wait for ten extra minutes when he would finally “arrive”.
Just for the hell of it.
“That’s a lot of hot sauce for one pizza”, Billy commented, watching you spray your truffles and cheese generously with the piquant olive oil.
You gave him a mischievous smile.
“What can I say,” you shrugged, leaning back in your chair and licking the tip of your finger after you swept a drop of it from the top of the bottle. “I like them hot”.
That startled a laugh out of Billy as he eyed you with something in his irises looking a lot like awe.
Just when he was about to speak, a servant brought a glass of red wine for him and bottle of sparkling water for you.
You thanked the guy with a sweet smile, while Billy eyed him a bit coldly, obviously waiting for him to leave.
When the waiter had finally made himself scarce, Billy softly called your name.
You raised your eyes to meet him, struggling as hell to keep your stare vacant. (Which was hard to do with some foreign tightness in your throat).
“Before we dig in and I hope spend a nice evening as two friends, getting together on a Friday night”, he didn’t even blink? Was he blinking? You couldn’t tell, his black eyes swallowing you whole, again. “I want to apologise. I was completely out of line… It was unacceptable. You don’t need my validation, of course, but I still want you to know that you are doing a terrific job at Anvil, taking us to the heights I never even thought existed. It’s just… It’s hard for me sometimes to be a good CEO and someone who promised to take care of my men at the same time… Everything is happening so fast, I’m afraid to lose my footing.”
You reached out for his hand across the table before you could stop yourself. You didn’t take it, but your fingers brushed his ever so slightly before you realized what you were just about to do. Your eyes widened as you looked at him, searching for a reaction. 

Billy remained perfectly still, not taking his eyes off you.
You grabbed a napkin next to his wrist, pretending this was what you had meant to do all along. 

“We’ll get there, Billy”, you said, a small encouraging smile blooming on your lips. “We just need some tweaking”.
You weren’t sure if you were talking about strategy at this point anymore.
You had a great time at dinner.
(And a whole-hearted laugh as Billy finished your remainders of the truffle pizza, downing a litre of water to numb down the burning sensation in his throat afterwards).  
You talked about your respective lives, your ex-colleagues, your hopes for the future… You dared think this who the real Billy Russo was.
And he was incredible.
After the two of you were done with dinner, you offered him to come upstairs to your place and go through the new strategy together. He didn’t hesitate, although you could swear you’d seen something ambiguous flash in the depths of his dark eyes before he nodded.
(You must have imagined it.)
The two of you ended up sprawled out on your soft faux fur carpet talking game plan, bouncing ideas off each other. You watched Billy frown, as he rubbed his mouth with his long fingers, smile in excitement and shake his head in awe when you voiced your ideas - you felt proud and appreciated, and you wouldn’t trade the sensation for anything in the world.
A couple of hours later the two of you had finally decided that it was enough brainstorming for one night, and you rose to your feet to go and make Billy a coffee before he got behind the wheel. As you pushed the start button on your coffee machine, you heard him speak over the noise.
“You know I’ve done four tours - three in Iraq and one in Afghanistan”, you popped your head up, only to see him play absentmindedly with something on his chest. “And every time I’m considering a mission for Anvil, I find myself back in there again… A part of a death squad.”
You carefully picked up his cup of coffee and made your way back to him. You didn’t say a word as you leaned lower to hand it over to him, encouraging him to go on. 

Billy thanked you in a whisper before clearing his throat.
“Every time I have to send them somewhere, especially overseas, I force myself to stop and think… Is this really worth it? Is a fat check really worth putting the lives of my men and women in danger? And most importantly - you may think it’s stupid…” he avoided your gaze, staring into his coffee cup, a miserable smile on his lips. “I think, will it make a difference? If one of them dies on a mission, I have to at least know they made a difference… it’s selfish and it’s more about the peace of my own mind, but it is what it is, you know?”
When he looked up at you, his eyes were full, full to the brim. There was so much emotion in them, hatred, misery, hope, adoration, all whipped in a wild mix that was Billy Russo’s dark, velvet eyes.
“I carry these at all times,” the fingers of his free hand dropped to his chest, as he got a hold of something hanging around his neck. A necklace? “When in doubt, I just look at them - they help me remember where I’ve been and what I’ve done - and I just know if it’s worth it or not. The answer is usually no, by the way”.
He smiled again, the curve of his lips looking less haunted this time, as he sipped on his coffee.
Dog tags. Those were Russo’s dog tags.
“So they’re your reminder that, even being a badass CEO of a private military company”, you couldn’t help but feel some kind of zero gravity settling in your lower stomach as you saw him chuckle at your words. “…you still have a heart”.  
“How poetic”, Billy teased you without missing a beat, putting the empty cup on the floor next to him. “But yeah. Sort of, I guess”.
As you fell asleep that night, you dreamed about explosions, piquant olive oil and holding Billy Russo’s dog tags in your hand.
The time flew by after that. In 8-month time (after some tweaking) Billy Russo and you became a team. It sometimes felt like nothing could stop you, as long as you were together.
It should not have come as a surprise that the two of you earned yourselves a catchy nickname - at first, it was spoken solely behind your backs, but soon enough it became some kind of a title, more powerful than that of the CEO or the CSO.
Anvil’s men and women (and especially Frank - the fact that he invented the nickname secretly tickled him pink) - were now calling you Bonnie and Clyde. The ultimate partners in crime, against all odds, doing the impossible.
The two of you also settled in an almost homely kind of routine. Ever since that Mayhew fiasco and the day that followed, Friday had become the non-spoken partners in crime day. What it meant in practice was exchanging Friday jokes on Anvil’s internal communications suite…
(Billy once attacked you with a “would you look at this, just found the actual footage of your interview @ Anvil”. Before you even got a chance to answer, he forwarded you a cheesy meme with two old women speaking to each other, one of them saying “We need someone who can do the job of two men”, and the other responding “oh, so it’s only a part-time job then”. When you shot him back a message asking whether he really considered himself an arthritic old woman, that seemed to have shut him up).
…grabbing a beer in a bar nearby…
(you sometimes invited your colleagues to join you, plus it was an unspoken rule that Frank and Karen were to be there as well)  
…you making fun of Billy Russo’s eating habits…
(It was honestly a nuisance to have a lunch with him. The list of things he refused to eat went on and on: no asian food, no food chain restaurants (even high-rated), no soups, no cheesecakes… He sure was settling well in that peaceful life he earned after spending all those tours living off canned food).
…and just overall enjoying each other’s company.
By the time the ninth month of your being Anvil’s CSO had rolled in, you couldn’t imagine not seeing Billy Russo every day. Not noticing him rolling his eyes at a smart-ass comment you or Frank made, or his orbs lighting up every time you told him the deal with that or this decision maker had gone through. You simply could not understand how you managed to live day in and day out, and think you were genuinely happy, before you actually met Billy. Everything before him just faded away somehow, your memories lost their colour and spike in comparison to the life you were living now. You kicked ass at your job, your career thrived, but most importantly, you were feeling like this was exactly where you were meant to be, braving the obstacles by Billy Russo’s side, knowing he would catch you should you fall.
He would, wouldn’t he?
It was your usual Friday night outing, the seven of you - Billy, Frank, Karen, Curtis, James from legal, Ashley from mine clearance and yourself - occupying your usual table at Whimsy, the bar that must have made 90% or their revenus off of Anvil’s folk. It was just around the corner from the headquarters, after all.  
The overall mood of the evening was rather nostalgic. It’d been four weeks since you’d lost a team member in a crossfire in Falluja, Iraq. After everything was said and done, his loss still hung heavy in the air, and it felt right to get one more drink in Jasper’s honour. The conversation flowed easily, even though the topics you’d spoken about were anything but.
“I remember how I felt when I lost Andy”, Ashley nursed her beer as she stared into the distance. “I just literally had the weight of the entire world on my shoulders, pinning me to the ground, I just couldn’t move on”, she finished her bottle in one go and motioned for the bartender to bring her another one. “Sometimes, I just ask myself, what would have I done if I’d known he was going to die the next day? Would I have stopped him from going? I think I would,” she thanked the bartender as he put the beer in front of her, her eyes a bit foggy. “Yeah, I definitely would have.”
Frank grasped Ashley’s shoulder and squeezed it hard in a comforting gesture; Karen gave her a tender look.
You didn’t know why your mind had gone there, but all of the sudden a memory of Billy sitting in his office chair, laughing his ass off at some offhand comment you’d made flashed before your eyes; it quickly got replaced by the recollection of his hand brushing against yours during the Zoom meeting you’ve had with general Warren Singer; then you remembered him putting his hand on the small of your back, staring daggers at some army brat wanting to join Anvil, eyeing you like a piece of meat (you learned later that day that the man’d been thrown out before having a chance to introduce himself); until finally, your brain stopped dead at the picture of Billy running his nervous fingers through his hair as he called you from his car, telling you he was only leaving the office.
What would you do if you knew he was going to die tomorrow?  
Your heart sunk at the thought as you gulped hard, ducking your head and staring at your hands folded in your lap.
A soft touch enveloping your elbow had you facing the man of the hour, his black eyes shimmering with concern.
“Are you okay?” he half-whispered, half-mouthed, not letting go of your hand.
No.
Nothing is okay, Billy.
I’m so happy that I met you, but you’re scaring the hell out of me.
I never wanted any form of eternity until now, I never saw the point…
So stay. Please, stay forever, and feel something for me, too.
“Yes. I’m fine,” you whispered back, staring into his eyes, hypnotised and helpless. You watched him turn away from you as if in slow motion, the warmth of his hand leaving nothing behind but emptiness in your bones.
“Here is to always telling the things that matter to the people who matter”, Billy spoke firmly, raising his beer. “Here’s to never missing a chance to open up to the people we love”.
Well, if this was his way of crossing the t's and putting the dots to the i’s regarding his feelings for you, he couldn’t have been clearer. 

As far as confessions of love went, this one was non-existent.
You tried, time and again, to convince yourself you had to go. You learned the hard way that your unrequited feelings were feeding on a sort of inadvertent parasitic relationship where every moment of your day depended on the level of Billy’s unintentional emotional indifference. Your days were spent questioning his every move - every look and every touch; until, the grown-ass woman that you were, you’d commanded yourself to stop second-guessing everything - stop feeling - and decided your best course of action would be… to work yourself into the ground.
If Billy ever noticed anything, he didn’t show it - your were still you, after all, working hard, laughing when he said something funny, calling him out on his bullshit when needed. He didn’t notice slight change in your eyes, when their icy surface cracked at every other compliment he threw in your direction (and there was no shortage of those). He didn’t realize the smile you gave him was different from those tightlipped signs of appreciation you gave to Anvil’s potential clients, he didn’t think twice about the reason for which you glowed around him, your every move softening, your every gesture emanating warmth.
Because Billy hadn’t really known you until you started to have feelings for him.
You knew this couldn’t go on forever. This entire situation was bound to result in some explosion of nuclear proportions, and then all hell would break loose. You needed to get yourself out of this situations, but you just… couldn’t. You couldn’t imagine your life without Billy Russo. You couldn’t leave him.
Even if being friends with him meant tearing yourself apart and suffering in silence. 


Long story short, you waited with fear in your bones for someone to walk into your life and to get you out. You’ve had no fight left in you to do it yourself.
Your salvation came in the form of a phone call on a Friday evening, when Billy was on a recruiting mission in California.
You were typing back a response to his cheeky message when the call cut in half-sentence.
Billy Russo: Please remind me to take you with me instead of Frank next time? He’s driving me insane trying to set me up with the ladies from the Organising Committee. Any ideas on how I can calm him the fuck down?
You: Sorry, Billy, but recruiting is out of my mission scope. As for the calm down part, try bondage maybe? :)
Billy Russo: I’m going to pretend you did not just suggest I engage in sexual practices with Frankie. Karen will have my balls.  
Billy Russo: But perhaps you’re right. Taking you with me is probably not a good idea. Wouldn’t want my new recruits’ brains to turn into mush because of how beautiful you are.
You: The flattery will….
“Hello? Y/N speaking”, you brought your phone close to your ear, your cheeks still a lovely shade of pink. If you were going to feel miserable when Billy came back, acting like nothing happened, you were sure going to make the best of that fuzzy feeling in your chest right now.
“Miss Y/N/L”, a smooth deep voice greeted you, and you could have sworn you’d heard it many times before. “I hope I’m not interrupting?”
Frowning in an attempt to remember, you urged:
“No, not at all. How can I help you?” you stared into the screen of your Mac, wheels turning in your head as you silently catalogued all the men you were in discussions with regarding a deal. “I didn’t catch your name…”
“Oh, how rude of me”, the man chuckled but there was no mockery in his voice, more like self-depreciation. “Tony Stark, from Stark Industries”.
Your mind went blank. Did you hear his last words correctly?
“Uh… Mr. Stark”, you quickly got a hold of yourself - well, as quickly as you could. “I appreciate you reaching out to me directly. What can Anvil do for you?”
You did a pretty bang-up job trying to mask your amazement with polite cheerfulness, and Stark had caught on that.
Tony Stark just called your cellphone number. What in the world?…
“We don’t really do alien invasions”.
Ohyourgod, did you just say it out loud?!
His uproarious laughter took you by surprise, reverberating through your entire body. It took every ounce of your self-control not to giggle in response.
“That’s a good one, I love it”, Stark finally said, restoring his breath. “And the better question would be, Y/N - can I call you Y/N? - what you can do for me”.
Before your brain could take you into some naughty direction, freaking Iron Man cleared his throat.
“Okay, this came out wrong,” he admitted with a sense of self-irony. “I um… I’m looking for the Co-Chief Executive Officer for Stark Industries. Well, Virginia Potts is actually looking for a Co-CEO, I’m just her errand boy. And my missions apparently include recruiting…. Anyway,” it was a bit of a challenge to follow Anthony Stark’s train of thought, but you were also still shocked, so that could explain it. “…I think you are the perfect fit for the job”.
You just stared into the screen front of you, your breathing barely audible.
“Mrs Potts and I would love it if you could swing by the A-Tower, let’s say, on Thursday? You’ll be surprised, but I can also whip up a mean cup of coffee…”
Say something.
Fucking hell.
Say something!…
“Thursday sounds great,” you blurted out without thinking. “Let me just shuffle my schedule around… I could stop by after lunch?”

 Your hands were slightly shaking as you clicked on your mouse, opening your schedule window.
“Whatever works for you, Y/N”, you could hear Stark smile. “Not to sound like a creep, but I’ve been following your career for quite a while now, and I think that the work you've done in such a short span of time for Anvil is outstanding, even though you still don’t offer protection from alien invasions”.
That made you chuckle, pushing you halfway out of your stupor.
“I’ll put that on the list of things for us to consider”, you promised.
"Tell Mr. Russo I sent my best,” Stark added, and you felt your heart drop to your stomach. “I actually might have some ideas for how we could collaborate. Let's discuss this on Thursday, too, shall we?”
After you said your goodbyes, you fell back in your chair, dropping your iPhone on the table.
You: The flattery will….
...get you nowhere.
You never finished that message, leaving Russo on Read.
Starting with that evening, things were moving fast - too fast for you to keep track.
After a three-hour long coffee and the tour of the A-Tower, Virginia Potts, the acting CEO of the Stark Industries, had offered you the job - just like that - and asked you to come back to her executive assistant should you wish to take the job, with your salary expectations and the information about your notice period. You thanked her for her time and promised to get back to her as soon as you made your decision.
Virginia Potts was a brilliant woman; but running a company like Stark Industries while being equipped with a vagina was certainly no walk in the park. Sexism was still very much present within the Boards of the Tech Businesses. You understood perfectly well why she wanted a woman in her corner - it would have been a massive slap in the Board’s face, but it was also about having someone to lean on, who just understood.
In any other circumstances you would have peed your pants in excitement. It was an opportunity to work for Stark Industries - no, scratch that - it was an opportunity to step in as a Stark Industries co-CEO. The idea of it still made you dizzy.
…but as you looked at Virginia’s email sent to your personal address thanking you for stopping by, your eyes were swimming with tears.
You weren’t ready to leave Billy. 
You just couldn’t. 
You couldn’t leave him. 

There was no epic finale to your story. There was no big revelation, no closure, no moment of relief, no acceptance, nothing. Only a fat-ass what if.
And you didn’t know how to let go of a what if with Billy Russo.
And that was exactly why you had to do it.
You heard Billy come in the next Monday earlier than usual. He was positively humming Usher’s Yeah! quietly as he made his way past your office’s doors straight into his own.
You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. You’ve been psyching yourself up during the entire weekend, telling yourself it wasn’t a big deal, we wouldn’t even flinch when you were going to tell him.
You had to tell him.
As you stood up from your chair, straightening you skirt with the palms of your hands, you suddenly heard the footsteps coming back in your direction. You froze in place like a deer in headlights when Billy swung open the door to your office, a box of Pierre Hermé macarons in his hands.
Your goddamn favorite Pierre Hermé macarons.
“You’re here!” Billy’s warm smile illuminated the room. “So much for a surprise, huh?”
He shook the box carefully in the air. You stared at it, dumbfounded, every single thought leaving you.
You couldn’t breathe.
In the hazy morning light seeping through the windows of your office, Billy looked beautiful and dissolute, shirt open at the collar, longer strands of dark hair falling into his eyes.
He was going to be the death of you. It really wasn’t fair.
“Billy, I have to tell you something.”
Was it you who spoke those words? They seemed distant and cold, so uncharacteristically detached.
Blood roared in your ears.
“What’s wrong?”
Billy’s reaction was instant. In three decisive steps he closed the distance that separated you, leaving the macarons on your desk. He stood still just mere inches away, and just like during your very first meeting, you had a fleeting thought cross your mind: you really were tiny next to him, the top of your head barely reaching his shoulders.
You bit the inside of your bottom lip, trying to keep your composure. He stared at you unblinking. He wasn’t touching you, but it felt like his eyes were looking straight into your soul, undressing you, blowing that wall you built around yourself into dust. They were taking you down, piece by piece, determined to see what you’d been keeping from him. 

Because, of course, he knew. He should have known something was going on. Hence the surprise this morning.
He had no idea what it was though.
“Maybe you should sit,” you said, making a physical effort to tear your eyes away from him, feigning sudden interest in the buttons of his shirt.


That chest…


…was going to be just fine. He didn’t feel the same way you did. He would just find someone else to fill your position. With brilliant women stalking him - in cooperative packs - that would not be a problem.
“You’re leaving, aren’t you”.
You squeezed your eyes shut as soon as his words reached your ears.

Fucking hell, you should have done that by phone. Or with other people around. You should have…
“You’re leaving”, you heard Billy repeat as his voice broke a little. He stepped away, burying his face in his hands as he dragged them down his jaw and neck, staring into the ceiling.
“Billy, listen, I…”
You were the one to close the space between the two of you this time, and before you could think too much into it… You threw your hands around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck.
The sensation struck you like a bolt of lightening when you felt his hands cross behind you back and pull you closer.
He smelled heavenly. Like a forest fire, a hint of smoke with oud and pine. You inhaled deep, deeper still, losing yourself in his comforting touch.
In his arms, just for a second there, you felt home.
“You… The company doesn’t need me anymore”, you nearly choked on words, screaming internally at yourself to keep the waterworks at bay. “It’s thriving, there’s not much else I can give you. My job here is done.”
I need to leave because your indifference is destroying me, and when I think I’m ready to let go, all it takes is one look from you, and I’m back to wanting you, to settling for anything you give me, like a goddamn fool.
“What the hell are you talking about, Y/N?!” Billy exclaimed, his hands grasping your shoulders as he distanced your bodies just enough for him to look into your eyes. “I nee- The company needs you! I was… You know, I was planning to make you the CEO of Anvil in a couple months time,” his smile, as earnest as it was, did not reach his eyes. “Yeah”, noticing your eyes go wide in shock,  he let his hands slide down your sides. “You’re so much better at it than I ever was. I was going to join Frank and just manage operations… under you”.
You just stared at him, dumbfounded, not feeling a stray tear escape your eye and rolling down your cheekbone.
“These are the tears of happiness, I hope”, Billy added, and you barely registered his touch as his thumb wiped the salty drop off. “Well, I guess Anvil will have to settle for the little old me. With my best girl going places."
You gave him a strained smile before you carefully wiped your cheeks, just taking a moment to look at him. To try and read him.
Billy Russo was a goddamn ceiling. Plain white, cool and unattainable. In all of your time working for him, you have never seen this Hallmark version of him before. Which one was it? 

Oh wait, you guessed you knew. The happy-for-you friend.
“So where are you going?” Billy asked, his eyes empty. “Who snatched you away from m- Anvil?”
The stutter was so subtle you barely noticed. You were finally tired of reading into shit.
“Stark Industries. I’ll be their co-CEO”.
Before you left Anvil you promised yourself you’d get the deal with Stark Industries up and running. There was no one in the world you trusted more in terms of security than Billy.
(The fact that you couldn’t keep your heart safe from him didn’t really count, did it?)
As a matter of fact, Billy and you were going to shake hands with Anthony Stark on the deal on your last night of being Anvil’s CSO. It was happening in The Metropolitan Opera and required both Billy and yourself to dress for the occasion. 

He promised to come pick you up at 6pm sharp; you were putting on the Jimmy Choo’s you’d bought a coulee months ago in Saks Fifth Avenue when you heard a low knock on your door.
Straightening up, you threw a quick glance at your reflection in the mirror. You decided to go with a long Marchesa black velvet gown with a rather deep V-line, a pair of long diamond earrings and an elegant half-up half-down hairdo, soft curls in the front framing your face.
“I’m coming”, you yelled out, picking up your leather jacket (because why the hell not) and your purse from the kitchen counter. Sharply opening the entrance door, you realized moments later that you didn’t even take time to prepare yourself for seeing William Russo in a tux.
If you weren’t already half in love with him, the sight before your eyes would have sealed the deal.
God-fucking-damn, like he needed any help being unforgettable.
With a black jacket thrown on a crisp white shirt with a couple of buttons undone and the tie hanging loosely around his neck, Billy was here to make a statement, to leave a mark. His hair was coiffed back in his usual style; honest to God, he looked like he just stepped out of the Man of the Year special GQ edition…
Just when your thoughts were about to switch to the way you must have looked next to him, ridiculous in your simplicity, like you refused to make an effort…
…Your eyes met his.
And the way he looked at you was so intense, his big black eyes with galaxies in them probing into yours, his strong jaw slack. There was beauty and tragedy reflecting in those orbs, but only just for a second - just for a second, he looked at you the way he probably looked at the sky he could never reach. Just for a second, he looked at you the way that made your heart beat twice as fast, like the world could crumble all around him and he still would not have blinked.
Would not have taken his eyes off you.
“Wow, Y/N, you look… You look beautiful”, he finally said. “I just can't spot a part of you that beats the other.”
Something in your chest exploded silently.
“Thank you, Billy,” you smiled at him - a genuine and happy smile, because you felt on top of the world with his adoring eyes on you. “You’re quite a catch yourself”.
Before you could scold yourself for your choice of words, you stepped out of your apartment and locked the door behind you.
“Shall we?” Billy offered his hand to you, without hesitation it seemed.
“We shall”, you replied instantly, slowly sliding your hand into the crook of his elbow.
And, just like always, you were going to enjoy it while it lasted.
The crowd in the opera was so posh, the looks all the women had been throwing you first made you question your choice of outfit. It’s after overhearing their conversations that you realized, the reason they stared daggers at you was the man that kept by your side no matter where you went.
Virginia and Anthony welcomed you at the buffet with sun-stained sincere smiles. After a short small talk, Anthony Stark informed you both that he had signed the contract earlier today, thus officially giving Anvil an exclusive security deal with Stark Industries. As of now, Anvil was the only company allowed on the Stark Industries’ premises in the quality of guards and protection officers.
The look Billy and you exchanged spoke volumes; while your eyes were sparkling with excitement though, screaming “we did it!!”, his bottomless black eyes were whispering “thanks to you”.
The four of you then shook hands and went through rounds of gratitude and appreciation; when a pleasant woman’s voice announced the imminent start of Onegin, inviting the guests to go to their seats. Virginia immediately took you hand, leading you straight into the Opera house, saying something about leaving men to finish their drinks. You threw Billy a laughing look over your shoulder, mouthing “come join me” before disappearing out of his sight.
“So on the scale of one to ten, how pissed at me are you, Mr. Russo?”
Billy turned his head sharply to a side, leaning on the high table, and spotted Anthony Stark himself, nursing a glass of whiskey. “For taking your queen away from you? Excuse the chess metaphor, but that woman”, Stark took a sip of his whiskey and savoured it before swallowing it down. “Is a goddamn queen.”
Billy chuckled, straightening up, digging his hands into the pockets of his trousers.
“That, she is,” he whispered, his eyes still piercing the spot in the crowd where your smiling face was mere minutes ago.
When the opera ended, both Billy and you couldn’t be more relieved - because both of you hated it with passion.
Exchanging meaningful glances in the dark during the singers’ performances now and then, you had to bite your tongue in order to not just ask Billy if you could maybe sneak out. Russo proved to be more stoic than you, carefully covering your hand with his in what was meant to be a comforting gesture.
You didn’t look at him once after that, afraid to say or do something that would make him remove his hand.
How much more pathetic could you get?  
When the performance was over, Billy led you out of the opera house without saying a word, his hand hugging carefully the small of your back.
His silence was unnerving. You didn’t know what to make of it. Should you have shaken his hand off back in the darkness of the concert hall? Or should you have caressed it with your thumb?
Your mind was spinning in circles by the time he opened the door for you and you slid into the front passenger seat of his Rolls goddamn Royce.
When he got in the car and gripped his steering wheel, you reached out and placed your hand on his whitening knuckles.
“Billy,” you spoke softly, barely audibly. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes,” he whispered back, turning his head to a side to face you. His black eyes stared into yours, looking hypnotised and helpless. “Everything is fine.”
It didn’t take a degree in Psychology to see that he was lying. You could feel his gaze on you as you turned away from him, taking your hand away at the same time.
Billy started the car. The revving engine filled the silence, loaded with the unsaid words.
“…he then walked me to my door, we exchanged our goodbyes. And that was it,” you finished lightly, looking back at Karen.
Her eyes were red as she stared at you, unblinking.
“Unbelievable…” she whispered. “So you never told him?…” her lips barely moved.
You sighed.
“Have you ever felt like you’re potentially in love with someone? Like, you don’t actually love him, you know you don’t, but one day you realise that you could? You realise just how easy it would be for you to fall in love with him? With all the teasing and the banter, the play hitting each other, calling each other names, just…. You start to pick up on little things - like if you listen closely, in every shut up, there’s a barely-there ring of I could love you.”

You shifted on the floor a little, and Karen watched your memories transport you somewhere else again. While physically your were here, in your apartment - with your fluttering eye-lashes, uneven breathing and loaded expression - mentally, you were somewhere else.
“….You probably don’t notice it at first, but your body is drawn to him. Every accidental or absentminded touch…” you continued quietly. “And there’s that twinkle in his eyes when he looks at you and it messes you up, because - what’s going on with you? What the hell does it even mean? Are you imagining shit? You’re trying to make sense.”


Karen didn’t interrupt, still staring at you as if she were seeing you for the first time
“I mean, he didn’t ask for any of it, you know?” you finally raised your foggy stare at Karen, as if searching for confirmation. “Maybe he just did something dumb one day, smiled at you or said something that seemed important and then all of the sudden you’re full on Looney Tunes, seeing stuff that isn’t there?”
Your words barely audible, you swallowed hard, before continuing.

“…I just kept looking at him with what ifs, and could haves, seeing all that goddamn potential. It’s so fucking twisted. Over-analyzing everything? Waiting for a sign?…” you chuckled bitterly all of the sudden. “…I was so fucking scared of reading too much into it, of crossing that line, because… It would be so easy!… Falling in love with him would have been so easy.”
Oh sweetheart, Karen’s eyes glowed with comfort as she reached out for your hand and squeezed it softly. But you already are in love with him. 


A loaded silence ripped through the air in your living room. The sound of an engine revving somewhere close squeezed its way through the slit of an opened window, and it seemed to break the trance.
Both Karen and you shuddered, and as you took in the realisation Karen’s eyes just bestowed upon you, you pinched the bridge of your nose.
“It’s pretty late,” Karen spoke up, reading you like an open book. She knew it was her cue to leave the stage. You needed time to process. “Frank is in a bar nearby with Curtis, let me just give him a call, okay, sweetheart?” she gave your hand one last reassuring squeeze. “You know where to find me when you need me”.
“Yes”, you responded, blinking tiredly. “Thank you so much for coming, Karen. I didn’t mean to unload on you like that…”
“Shut the hell up,” the blonde advised, raising her eyebrows. “But honestly, Y/N, please call me once you… come to terms with things, okay?”
You nodded.
When Karen left, leaving the sweet and pleasant smell of her perfume behind, you closed the door behind her and turned around, leaning on the cold wood and metal with your eyes closed.  
It’s been a month. This was supposed to pass by now. Billy was supposed to stop inviting himself into your dreams. You were supposed to heal.
You may have just realized you were in love with the man instead.
Letting out half a moan, half a groan, you peeled yourself from the door slowly, and brushed your hair back, wanting nothing more than to fall face-first into bed.
After you at least cleaned up a bit and put out the Dyptique candles, that is.
As your eyes scanned your living room in an attempt to asses the size of the job at hand, you stopped mid-way, zeroing in on the box Jax gave you earlier in the evening. It rested silently on the kitchen table.
Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you made your way to the kitchen area. Grabbing the package, you turned it around, looking for any indication of the sender.
The package wasn’t even stamped.
Curiosity getting the best of you, you took a moment to grab a knife from one of the drawers, and carefully swished it between the two cardboard sheets.
Flipping over the envelop, you heard something fall out of it before you could actually see it. A small sheet of paper floated in the air before falling on the surface, partially covering whatever fell out of the package.
Your heart squeezed the second your brain identified the object, attached to a worn silver chain.
With trembling fingers, you slid two metal pieces from under the paper, covering your mouth.
Finding their home in the palm of your hand, Billy’s dog tags shimmered in the dim candlelight.
Squeezing them in between your fingers, you grabbed the paper with your free hand, your eyes staring at one single sentence scribbled on its surface.
“You took my heart with you”.
621 notes · View notes
silkenstarlight · 3 years
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body is a temple
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Summary: Bucky and reader are training when she finds him staring at her ass. She tries to rile him up, but quickly learns that he doesn’t tolerate teasing.
Pairing: Personal trainer!Bucky x reader
Warning/s (18+ only, minors dni): enemies to lovers, dirty talk, degradation, spanking, multiple orgasms
Word count: 2.8k
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Author’s note: i wrote this while wine-drunk, so if it’s extra horny, you know why
“Fuck!”
You tumbled onto the mat, back slamming against cool polyethylene. The breath whooshed from your body in a dramatic, crushing exhale, your lungs desperately trying to pull in air but failing beyond shallow, raspy puffs. Bucky looked down at you, the fluorescent lights of the gym feathering behind his head in a blinding halo, smirking as he drank in the image of you sprawled on the mat below him, completely at his mercy. He let you lie there for one, two, three seconds, before holding out his hand for you to grab onto. It was a kind gesture, something that completely contrasted with his previous rough treatment. You squinted and firmly grasped his hand, feeling your back leave the mat as he propped you upright again.
“Is that the best that you can do, (Y/N)?” He stepped back, walking to the edge of the mat and retrieving your water bottle for you.
You huffed, raspy breathing slowly returning to normal. “Is this really necessary?”
He handed you your water bottle, frowning. “Of course it’s necessary.”
“I was told that you would be my personal trainer. Nowhere in the program description did it say that you were going to beat my ass all day,” you shook your head, slightly incredulous, and took a few grateful gulps from the water bottle. You felt more comfortable talking back to him because you were the last ones left in the gym today, with no one but him to overhear your complaining. You had expected some light cardio, maybe some weight training, when you had signed up for individual sessions with a personal trainer at your new gym. You didn’t think you would be paired right away with Bucky, who seemed to exclusively work with experienced heavy lifters, and you definitely didn’t think he would take it upon himself to teach you self-defense, a skill which he was surprisingly extremely well-versed in. Every day for the past week, you had ended up in a similar supine position on the mat, beaten and scrambling for air, accumulating a mottled collection of nasty bruises and scrapes on your knees and elbows. The most frustrating part was that he remained unscathed through it all. Every time, it was you on your ass, and him helping you up. It made you want to scream.
Well, that actually wasn’t the only thing about this whole situation that made you want to scream. He was incredibly good-looking, exactly your type, all brooding looks and dark eyes. You actually had to pick your jaw up off of the floor when he walked in to your first session last week. But, the worst part was, he was a cocky bastard. He had to know the effect he had on you, and yet, he chose to do nothing about it.
“Well, you’ll just have to do better if you want me to stop crushin’ you every time.” He dabbed at his forehead with the hem of his shirt, and even though he frustrated you to no end, it took everything you had in you not to let your eyes drift down to look at his toned stomach.
“Now I think you’re just trying to make me mad.” You huffed, walking to the edge of the mat and returning your water bottle to its perch, preparing for another round.
“Well, if I’m pissing you off, why don’t you use that anger? Beat me. Just once,” he smirked, as if firmly believing that you couldn’t, that you didn’t have it in you. But, you were just stubborn enough to take the challenge.
“Fine.” You cocked your head and gritted your teeth, digging your heels into the mat and crouching in a ready position. 
“3… 2… 1… start.” The ghost of a smirk still graced his face, but he was concentrating on your movements now, eyes darting as you approached.
Jab, cross, jab. Knee, high kick, and--
“Damn you, Barnes.” 
One quick sweep, and he had you pinned. You wanted to scream, to thrash in frustration, but his body pressing against your back limited any movement on your part. Wonder if he likes having me pinned like this. You tried not to let that thought develop further, lest the heat you had worked up from sparring travelled up your neck for him to see, or worse, somewhere farther south--
“Why are you still panting, (Y/N)?” You could feel a puff of hot breath against your ear as he chuckled.
Fuck. “My, uh… my asthma must be acting up again.” 
“Didn’t think you had asthma.” He flipped off of you, arching a brow as you slowly stood.
“Forgot to tell you, then,” you fibbed, trying at all costs to avoid spilling the truth, that your panting was the effect of an illicit fantasy that you had thought about in bed, alone, on more than one occasion.
“Uh huh,” he said, unconvinced. You both got into a ready position again.
“3… 2… 1… start.”
This time, you took more of a defensive strategy, evaluating him before striking. Maybe, if you weren’t so focused on completing the flourishing movements, on hitting with perfect precision and strength, you could anticipate his attack instead. You circled around each other like sharks, his eyes glinting almost hungrily, but doing nothing to bely his next move. It was like trying to size up a brick wall.
Suddenly, he darted forward with a speed that no man his size should have, and he swept your legs from under you, flipping you with ease. You fell ungracefully in a prone position, cheek smacking the mat, eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment. You groaned, aching muscles begging for you to stop and rest instead of getting up and accepting his challenge. You pressed your forehead into the mat, weighing whether it was worth the hassle of asking him to cut your session short today, when you noticed that he was completely silent.
You furrowed your brows, eyes flying open. Every time he had defeated you in previous rounds, he had uttered some sarcastic, infuriating quip, trying to rub in his victory even more. But he hadn’t said anything yet.
You pushed your chest up off the mat, craning your neck to look back at him. He was obviously looking at your body, eyes transfixed on your lower half, but when he sensed your sudden movement, he broke out of his trance. He quickly got up from his kneeling position, clearing his throat and walking to the water jug on the far wall. A smile slowly grew on your face as you realized that he had been staring at your ass.
You stood up, slowly walking toward him, assessing him with a sly expression on your face. “Were-- were you doing what I think you were doing just then?”
His back was to you as he filled a little paper cup with water. “If you mean pummelling your sorry ass into the mat yet again, then yes.” His voice still carried its usual snarky tone, but it shook slightly, as if he were just caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
“Not exactly what I meant.” You stepped closer until a foot separated you, and he turned around to face you.
“Then what do you mean, doll?” He smiled smugly, but you noticed the pink blush that was creeping its way up his neck.
You hummed a laugh. “What I mean, Barnes,” you cocked your head, relishing how your sudden onset confidence wiped the smirk from his face, “is that you were enjoying the view back there. Isn’t that right?”
Now it was his turn to huff a laugh. “Well, what can I say? You’ve got a nice ass. Gotta get something out of these sparring sessions.”
You scoffed. “Fucking pervert.”
“Call me that again.” His tone was more serious, suddenly bereft of the saccharine sarcasm you were so used to.
You paused, weighing his tone against the risqué direction the conversation was heading, and you smirked, deciding to provoke him further. “You’re a fucking pervert. Beatin’ girls up, just so you have a chance to get a good, long look at their bodies. What the fuck is up with that? Can’t get some like a normal person, can you?”
He let that sink in, head dipped, eyebrows raised. But then, a thought seemed to cross his mind, and a wicked smile crept onto his face. He looked at you with hooded eyes, and your stomach flipped, unsure if you were extremely turned on by your sudden proximity to him, or if you were preparing to balk.
“You’re going to regret saying that.” His voice was low, rasping with something you’ve never heard from him. Your mind was telling you to back up, to leave this encounter before it got messy, but your feet stayed rooted in position as he bridged the gap between your bodies. He grabbed your shoulders and turned you around before pinning you roughly against the wall.
“You know,” he said, breath hot against your ear, “you really shouldn’t be calling me a perv, when I know exactly what goes on in that head of yours during our training.”
“Wh- what do you mean?” You decided to play dumb, hoping that he wasn’t astute enough to deduce your secret, licentious desires.
“Oh, you know. Whenever I pin you, you’re always blushing.” He laughed mockingly. “It’s cute. It’s like you secretly want to be dominated.”
You huffed a breath as his hands traveled down your waist, before settling gently on your hips. His lips dragged across the shell of your ear and down your neck, pressing against your pulse point. You arched your back, grinding against the hard bulge that was forming in his shorts.
“Is that right, (Y/N)? You want me to pin you down and fuck you dumb?” He mumbled against your neck.
A wanton moan tumbled from your lips in response, but it wasn’t good enough for him. His fingers dug harshly into your hips. “Use your words, sweetheart.”
“Yes, p-please.” You hated how breathy your voice was, but you were too overtaken by desire to care whether he was just doing this to get a reaction from you.
“Please what?” You could feel his mouth curl into a smile as he reattached his lips to your neck, sucking lightly.
“Please, please, please, fuck me, Bucky.” Another moan slipped from your mouth.
“That’s better, baby.” His fingers relaxed against your hips, tracing upwards to the hem of your leggings. He tugged them down with your underwear so that they settled just below your ass, and he pulled back slightly to look at your bare backside.
“Goddamn,” he said, voice gravelly and low. He squeezed one cheek with his hand, kneading it slightly before letting it go and slapping it. “Been dreaming of this ass. It’s just as good as I imagined.”
You gasped, giggling. “So, I was right.”
“Right about what?” He asked, pulling down his shorts and freeing his cock before pressing it against your backside, hot length already dripping with precum.
“You’re a fucking perv, Bucky Barnes.” You smiled coquettishly.
He stilled behind you, and you could feel his glare burning a hole through the back of your neck. You kept smiling anyways-- this was the exact reaction you had hoped for.
He guided the tip of his member down to your slit, dragging it from your perineum to your clit and back again to gather your wetness, before completely sheathing himself inside of you in one motion. You moaned loudly in response to the harsh intrusion, body struggling to accommodate his size.
“Thought you learned not to call me that,” he said, voice level, unbothered by the fact that you were throbbing around him.
“Guess I n-never learn.” Your voice was barely a whisper as he began to move, slowly thrusting to allow your body a chance to adapt to the thrilling ache of being so completely full. It was a harsh sensation, but it felt good, each stroke dragging pleasantly against your tight walls.
“Oh, you’ll learn.” His left hand travelled up your body, drawing under your shirt and flipping the band of your sports bra up. Your breasts bounced free, full and heavy. “Let’s see those pretty little tits, huh?”
He pinched one nipple, rolling its rosy, peaked bud between his cool metal fingers and making you squeal in delight. You ground back against him, encouraging him to move faster inside of you.
“You like that?” He switched to the other nipple, kneading your breast gently in his hand, and you arched into the motion. “That feel good?”
You bit your lip and shook your head, trying to swallow your moans, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing you fall apart so quickly and completely at his hands. “N-no.”
“You know,” he said, driving into you harder and harder with each thrust, but remaining frustratingly unperturbed and casual, “you don’t have to lie to me. I feel how drenched you are. You can admit how good it feels, baby.” His feigned affectionate tone, paired with the way that the tip of his cock was starting to brush against your g-spot, made you cry out. His permission to let go just made you want to disobey him even more, but the pleasure was slowly overtaking your body, overriding your sense of shame. You rocked on your heels, trying to take back some semblance of control, but when his left hand dragged from your breast to your neck, squeezing slightly, you were a goner. You shattered around him, your muscles fluttering around him and coaxing a gruff moan from his throat. But, he kept his focus, fucking you through your orgasm and watching your face as he did, your eyes scrunched shut and your lips dropped open in a soft “o.” He let go of your throat and you gasped. 
As the waves of your orgasm subsided, he refused to slow down, his unrelenting pace repeatedly hitting your deepest point. You could feel him grinning stupidly at you, proud that he had already coaxed an orgasm out of you despite not cumming yet himself.
“B-Bucky,” you whined, your body limp against his. Though your first orgasm had abated, you quickly felt tension building again inside of you.
“Not so cocky now, are you, (Y/N)?” He said between heavy breaths. You knew he was close, just by the sound, but you also knew that he wouldn’t leave this room without teasing another orgasm from your body. “So docile once I put my dick in you.” He panted, laughing at the way you mewled and gasped around him.
His hand drifted down to where your bodies met, finding your clit in the slippery mess of your combined arousal. He pressed his fingers against it in erratic little circles, your body keening for him, completely at his mercy. 
“Look at that, makin’ you gush around me again,” he said, almost to himself, reveling in your neediness. “Looks like I win at this, too.” And, with that, you were done for.
Your muscles squeezed around him in a sweet, warm vice, and he groaned at the sensation of you cumming around him a second time. You mewled pathetically, body spent with unabashed pleasure. He followed closely behind you, losing himself inside of you and spilling his arousal in hot, vulgar stripes. His head was thrown back, claiming your body as his in sweet, silent throes. Once his hips finally stilled, his body slumped against yours, completely and utterly spent. You stayed like that for a moment, leaning up against the wall, the battle between you clearly over. And then, he grasped your hips, his cock slipping out of you with a vulgar sucking sound.
You bent down, pulling up your pants, when you heard him clear his throat. You looked back, reaching underneath your shirt to pull your sports bra back down over your tits, when he chuckled. You arched a brow, but he just shook his head slightly. “That was… much more fun than beating you up.”
You frowned slightly, but when you saw his goofy smile and suddenly relaxed demeanor, you couldn’t help but mirror his expression. “Does that mean that we get to do that, instead of my training?”
“Oh, absolutely not,” he said sternly, crossing his arms but smiling slyly nonetheless. “But, we can do it outside of training. As long as I get to take you to dinner first,” he added quickly, his voice almost shy as he averted your gaze.
You smiled, laughing, and he looked up, expression nervous. Now, you shook your head. “Considering how good you just fucked me, I should be the one buying you dinner.”
He smirked, grabbing your water bottle and handing it to you, his fingers brushing against yours. “Now, that’s an offer that I can’t refuse.”
427 notes · View notes
ncssian · 3 years
Text
A Favor: Part Twenty-Six
Nessian Modern AU
Masterlist
a/n: writing this chapter was so much fun but reading it was a train wreck so you’ll just have to find out yourself whether it’s actually good or not. hurt/comfort ahead
***
Most of Nesta’s days lately are spent holed up in her basement apartment, either studying for her finals or preparing for her move—which means that whenever Cassian wants to see her, she has to haul ass all the way to the cabin to make time for him.
Like now, on the morning of her birthday, as she stands in her pajamas and slippers in the middle of Cassian’s home gym. Staring at the reason behind his urgent phone call telling her to come over.
“It’s a pole,” she says dumbly.
“Happy birthday,” he says, looking proud of himself. “Consider it an incentive to move in faster, okay?”
“It’s a pole,” she repeats. Tall and gleaming, it stands in front of the wall of mirrors away from most of the workout equipment. “You installed a pole?”
The gift itself isn’t that surprising—Cassian could afford an entire pole dancing studio if he wanted to. What surprises her is that it’s installed here, in Cassian’s personal space. The gym is to Cassian what the reading nook is to Nesta, if not even more sacred. Nesta rarely enters it, but now… he’s extending a blatant invitation into his space.
“I know you already take classes with Gwyn and Emerie,” Cassian is saying, “but you haven’t gotten to go in a while because of school and work, so I thought it would be easier for you if I brought the dance studio over here.” He scratches his head, and Nesta’s eyes drift to the silver watch on his wrist. “You never told me you used to dance. I found out from Feyre, and she sent me videos of your old ballet recitals.”
“Did she?”
Cassian nods along. “You were good. You’re still good now, which is why you should wipe that look off your face and thank me for your gift.”
Nesta is sure she looks stupefied, but she doesn’t do anything to rein it in. She has so many thoughts, and she can only think of saying, “I don’t want to practice in front of you.”
“You don’t have to,” Cassian promises. “Other than early mornings, maybe evenings, the gym will be empty for you.”
Okay. “You—” Nesta starts, “You’re really okay with this?”
Cassian’s face drops in confusion. “Okay with what?” He looks at the pole and back at Nesta. “Do you not like it?”
“Are you okay with giving me part of the gym? Where are you going to go if you want to be alone?” She chews on her lip.
Cassian laughs. “Why would I want to be alone?”
Nesta shrugs. “I need it at least once a week. I figured everyone else was the same way.” Her alone spot in the cabin is her former bedroom from the first time she lived here. Cassian knows not to enter that room, and on days when she spends time in there he simply waits until she comes out. Nesta assumed the gym was close to being something like that for Cassian.
Realization crosses Cassian’s face. “Oh, you mean like your ‘special room’?”
“Don’t say it like that,” Nesta snipes. “I told you I don’t use it for masturbating.”
He comes over and swings a heavy arm around her shoulder. “Babe, if I wanted to be alone I wouldn’t stay in the house. I’d run the trails in the woods behind the cabin.”
“Really?” Her brows furrow. She didn’t know that.
“Look, am I gonna have to return the pole or not?” Cassian says, exasperated.
Nesta stares at him closely, and upon finding no other catch to his gift, she flings her arms around his torso. “I love it,” she declares into his chest. “I love it so much.”
His body tenses in surprise at her uncharacteristic outburst, but then she feels his strong arms wrapping around her too. “In that case, have I earned myself a private show?” he teases.
“I’ll give you so many private shows,” Nesta promises. At least, once she completes her 2L and has the time to learn how to use the pole. “Emerie and Gwyn are going to be so jealous,” she hums pridefully.
Cassian chuckles deeply, and the sound rumbles through his chest where Nesta’s head rests.
They stay holding each other in silence like that for a while, mostly because it’s too early for unnecessary conversing. When Nesta finally speaks up, it’s to say, “Did you really have to call me over at eight a.m. for this, though?”
“It’s your birthday.” Cassian strokes the hair away from her neck. “Don’t even think about sleeping,” he warns. “We’re spending the whole day together. Your sisters mailed gifts, and Gwyn and Emerie are coming over at noon.”
That works for her.
***
The week after her birthday, Nesta drops her resignation letter onto Rhysand’s desk with a heavy smack.
He looks up from the envelope to her. “What’s this?”
“I’m quitting,” she announces without flourish. “Thank you for the experience. Let’s never do it again.”
“But—you got paid more than anyone else in an assistant position ever would. And you weren’t too bad at your job for a student. What went wrong?” He picks up the letter as if he can’t believe his eyes.
Nesta’s stare is a deadpan one. “Let me guess: you thought I would take your free paychecks, use my connections to move up your nepotism ladder, and end up working at Night Court comfortably for the rest of my life?”
Rhysand sits back in his chair and raises a brow at Nesta. “This is a family business,” he says smoothly. “I thought you wanted to be part of the family?”
How funny of him. “I’m good,” she answers simply.
“You came all the way here to tell me this?” Here being Velaris, which gleams through the wall of windows behind Rhysand’s desk.
“I’m not here to see you,” Nesta says, the implication being left in the air. “I’m just stopping by.” Giving a short nod, she turns on her heel to leave.
“If you ever go looking for another job,” Rhysand calls after her, “tell me if you need a recommendation. I can get you into any position at any business.”
She pauses at the door and looks over her shoulder at Rhysand. “I already have recommendations. And a job.” Her summer clerkship at the local family law firm won’t pay a third of what she made here at Night Court, but it’s good enough for now. Combined with what she’s saved up so far, she’ll get through her final year of law school without issue.
At Rhysand’s surprised face, she takes her cue to leave.
Nesta didn’t intend on going all the way to personally meet the CEO to quit, but since Cassian has been in Velaris the whole weekend for work, she thought it would be nice to surprise Cassian with a visit and cut her ties with Night Court Inc. at the same time.
Night Court’s headquarters are huge, with the skyscraper easily being one of the tallest buildings in the city. Nesta nearly gets lost trying to find her way out of Rhysand’s offices.
When she finally spots the steel doors of the elevator, they’re about to slide shut on her. “Hold the door!” she calls out, kicking into a jog. An arm pushes out at the last second to stop the doors from closing, and Nesta slides into the elevator with a sigh of relief. The doors close after her, and she turns to thank the only other person in the elevator.
The man is already looking at her in surprise—surprise which slowly turns into a shark-like smile. “Nesta?”
Nesta’s blood goes cold. He can’t be.
“Remember me?” He points at himself, still grinning. “Keith? Keith O’Connell?”
She tries to swallow but her mouth is dry. “Yeah, I remember,” she gets out.
She remembers everyone she knew from college. She especially remembers Tomas’s closest friends.
Nesta realizes Keith is saying something to her. “What floor?” he asks.
“Uh…” Where was she going again? She can’t remember. She spits out a random number and lets Keith press the button.
Nesta turns her gaze to the flashing numbers above the doors, watching them go down and down. Why are there so many damn floors?
“Didn’t think I’d see you around here,” he goes on, trying to get her to meet his eyes. “Let me guess, you’re an intern?”
Nesta keeps her eyes glued to the floor numbers. “No.”
“Ah,” he hums. “Don’t tell me you’re still chasing that lawyer dream?”
When Nesta doesn’t respond, she finds five fingers on her jaw turning her face toward Keith’s.
She jerks out of his grip, indignant rage bubbling to the surface—rage that is almost immediately suppressed by dread and fear. She’s so small right now; she can’t remember how to be big and loud.
Keith grins, taking a step closer. “What’s wrong? I just asked a question.”
Her back bumps into the wall. She barely feels it. She might as well be back in the living room of her college apartment, sitting on the arm of the couch while Tomas makes snide remarks about her to Keith O’Connell and his other friends. She’s not allowed to leave, because then she’ll be the one who can’t take a joke.
Keith frowns disappointedly at the ground, as if he found a shiny toy just to discover that it doesn’t do any tricks. Now he’s bored. “Damn,” he says. “When you’re not busy being Tom’s bitch, I guess you’re just a bitch.”
Nesta wishes she could be a bitch right now. She wishes she could fight back. “What are you doing, Keith?”
He tilts his head at her. “I’m catching up with you. You got a boyfriend?” His beady eyes slide down her form, leaving a slimy feeling in their wake.
When her lips stay pressed in a firm line, he grabs her arm and laughs. “Come on, why’re you being so weird?” He shakes her by the elbow. “I won’t tell anyone if you do have a boyfriend, promise.”
Nesta hears a ding, and the elevator doors slide open. She doesn’t know whether it’s her floor or Keith’s floor, but she doesn’t care—she’s the first to pull away from him and make an exit. “See you,” she blurts before speedwalking out of the elevator.
Why the fuck did she say “see you”? She doesn’t want to see him ever again. He doesn’t deserve to see her ever again.
Behind her, she hears Keith chuckle again. “I’ll tell Tomas you said hi,” he calls after her.
***
Cassian finds Nesta huddled under a desk.
He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him when he spotted her hurrying out of the elevator on the eighteenth floor of Night Court’s headquarters, but soon enough he realized that yes, that was Nesta’s coat and Nesta’s hair. She was supposed to be back home studying for her first two finals, but instead she was here looking like she was going to be sick.
He was about to follow her when his eyes slid to the man that had gotten off the elevator after her. He didn’t like how O’Connell was staring after Nesta.
“We’re old college friends,” O’Connell shrugged dismissively when Cassian approached him. “I was just saying hi.”
Nesta doesn’t have any friends from college.
Which leads Cassian to a dim, abandoned meeting room, one that would seem fully empty if it wasn't for the sound of strained breathing coming from under the only desk.
He approaches the desk slowly, his worn sneakers coming into Nesta’s line of sight. Pushing the rolling chair away, he crouches down to get a better look at her.
Tinny music comes out of her earbuds, loud enough to drown out any other sounds. She stares past Cassian like she can’t even see him, and the hollowed out look in her eyes terrifies him for a moment. When she blinks, tears spill over onto her cheeks.
“Nes?” Carefully, Cassian reaches out to touch one of her earbuds. After a second of hesitation, he pulls it out and lets it fall.
Nesta sniffles once, then finally turns her teary gaze to Cassian. Her eyes widen a little bit as she croaks, “How did you find me?”
“I followed you. What are you doing here, baby?”
“Um—” Her voice cracks, and she swipes away her tears with the sleeve of her coat. She clears her throat and says, “I came to surprise you.”
“And how’d you end up under here?” Cassian pulls Nesta’s hand away from her face before the scratchy wool can redden her face further. Makeup is smudged around her eyes, and he tries to soothe the sensitive skin there with his thumbs.
Nesta’s other earbud drops out of her ear while he fusses, leaving her with nothing to listen to.
Cassian is quietly, studiously tucking stray hairs back into Nesta’s bun when she confesses, “I was weak.”
“How?” Concern pinches Cassian’s brow. “By crying in front of me?”
“I was completely helpless,” she goes on, her voice numb. “And I didn’t know how not to be that way. I hated it, it’s so stupid.” She tears up again. “I’m not supposed to be that stupid.”
“Tell me what happened,” Cassian demands. He can’t pretend to be patient anymore.
Nesta presses her lips together and stares down at her shoes. Nothing Cassian can think of can prepare him for when she says, “I ran into a friend of my ex.”
So that’s who he is. A frightening calmness settles over Cassian. “O’Connell?” he asks, though he already knows.
Nesta looks up. “You know him?”
He tightens his jaw but nods. “Move over.” Ducking his head, Cassian crawls under the desk to join Nesta. He has to hunch over in half to fit, but Nesta doesn’t seem to mind.
He has to give it to her—it’s not a bad hiding spot.
“What did he say to you?” He tries to sound steady, undisturbed.
“He didn’t need to say anything,” Nesta answers. “I lost my spine with one look from him. He had me under his thumb.”
“I see.” Cassian has made peace with the fact that Tomas Mandray has long since moved away, that he’ll never be able to track the shithead down and make him suffer. What he didn’t know, however, is that Mandray left his friends behind.
“Were you hurt?” is his next question. “Did he touch you?” Cassian doesn’t know what he’ll do if Nesta says yes, but he has to ask anyway.
“I’m not hurt,” she assures him. But her hands rub over her upper arms like she can feel the ghost of a touch there.
“I see,” he repeats. He watches her for a bit longer before stating, “You’re not stupid.”
Nesta’s huff is amused. “Thank you.”
“And don’t spend too much time thinking about O’Connell,” he mutters, nudging her knee with his. “I’ll get rid of him for good.” That is a promise that Cassian is happy to keep.
Nesta looks alarmed. “Like…murder him?”
Cassian laughs. “No, not like that. But you’ll never see him again, so I hope you’ve said what you needed to say to him.”
Nesta thinks for a moment, then nods. “That sounds good. I don’t have anything to say to him.” She inhales a deep breath. “I think I feel better now.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah.”
Cassian holds out a hand to her. “You wanna get out of here?”
She takes his hand and he helps her out from under the desk.
Nesta apparently booked a hotel room in Velaris to surprise Cassian with, but they both agree on the way to the parking lot that they’ve had enough of the city. Cassian chooses to leave his truck behind for Rhys to take care of, and he offers to drive Nesta’s car while she rests.
The ride home is long and quiet.
Nesta sits in silence with her earbuds in, her head leaning against the car window and one of her hands in Cassian’s. He drives with his free hand, sneaking glances over at her every so often just to make sure she really is okay.
It enrages him that someone from Nesta’s past found their way into her place of work. What if he and O’Connell weren’t working in Velaris this weekend, and Nesta bumped into O’Connell in the middle of town instead? It could have tainted any sense of safety she has with the small city she calls home.
Cassian has no plans on telling her that O’Connell is the team leader for the Milan project, or that he rents a small place on the outskirts of their town. Because soon enough neither of those things will be true, and there’s no use in unnecessarily worrying her.
He absentmindedly rubs his thumb over the back of Nesta’s hand.
When they finally pull up to the cabin, Nesta picks her head up from the window to look around. Spotting the other black car parked in the driveway, she makes a sound of disappointment. “Az is home.”
“We can stay in the car if you like,” Cassian offers. He’s in no rush to go inside and face other people, either.
Nesta pulls her heels off, bending over to rub her stockinged feet. “Maybe just for a little while.”
Cassian unbuckles his seatbelt, gesturing for Nesta to put her feet in his lap.
She obliges, looking too tired to refuse him. Cassian runs his hands up her legs and under her skirt, finding the waistband of her sheer black tights and tugging.
“What are you doing?” She jerks under his hands, eyes wide. “The car’s too small for this.”
He narrows his gaze at her. “Chill, horndog. I’m just making you comfortable.” He pulls the tights the rest of the way down her legs and off, freeing her skin.
Nesta gives a little sigh of relief at the feeling of air on her bare skin. She rubs her hands over her thighs in wonder, drawing Cassian’s gaze.
He meets her eyes, and she slowly curls her legs off his lap, tucking them underneath herself instead.
Elated to have Nesta’s undivided attention after two hours of silence, he leans over and slips his hand around her jaw, pulling her in for a kiss.
Her inhale is soft, surprised, before she relaxes against his mouth. Cassian kisses her once, twice, hoping it’ll remind her that she’s safe at his side. That nothing can make her weak.
He’s slow to pull away, and he opens his eyes to find that Nesta’s are still closed, her lips still parted. He stifles a smile and whispers, “I think we should head inside.”
“Mm-hm,” she nods eagerly.
They exit the car, Cassian carrying Nesta’s shoes and tights in one hand and Nesta running over to him barefoot.
He leaves little pecks along her jaw and neck as they enter the cabin, taking extra time to find any moles or beauty marks. She’s about to turn in his arms to face him when they both take notice of Azriel sitting in the living room. Cardboard boxes surround him, and he’s filling them up with books.
Cassian drops Nesta’s heels and tights onto the floor, bringing Az’s attention to him.
“Hey, bro,” Cassian says warily. “What are you doing?”
“Moving out,” Az answers.
Nesta chokes on a laugh. When no one laughs with her, her face drops. “You’re serious?”
Cassian thinks the same thing.
“I’m going back to Velaris,” Az shrugs, dropping some trinkets into a box. “I’m ready to face Elain. I’m taking accountability.” He says it like it’s the simplest decision ever, like he’s talking about bringing an umbrella to a picnic.
“Are you sure about this?” Cassian asks. Just a while ago his brother was terrified at the idea of entering a ten mile radius of Velaris.
“I’m packing, aren’t I?” Az says dryly.
“You’re packing our things,” Cassian points out.
Nesta gasps when she notices. “Hey, those are my books!” She hurries over to snatch one out of Azriel’s hand.
Azriel snatches it back with a dark look. “What goes in the box, stays in the box.”
Cassian sputters in disbelief, looking around at the scene before him. “I mean—can we ask what brought this on?”
“Maybe I did some self-reflection. Or maybe I finally got sick of you and Nesta hooking up while I’m in the same room, like you were about to do now.” Az shrugs, pulling out a roll of packing tape and tearing off a strip with his teeth. “Don’t act like you’re going to miss me,” he continues as he tapes one of the boxes shut. “You two have been waiting for this day for months, and I’m finally granting your wishes.”
Cassian and Nesta share a look, and Cassian says hesitantly, “This isn’t… a breakdown or something, right?”
Azriel narrows his hazel eyes at Cassian.
“Okay, okay.” Cassian holds his hands up in defense. He pulls his hoodie over his head and off in one swift movement and goes over to the couch to help his brother pack. He still doesn’t know what brought on this sudden change of heart, but he knows Az won’t tell unless he wants to.
Nesta remains standing where she is, confounded, before dropping down next to an open box and rifling through it. “I want compensation for anything of mine you’re taking,” she demands, pulling out various paperbacks one by one.
“So like a dime for every three trash porns,” Cassian tells Az.
“I’m upcharging,” Nesta says. Her hand stops rummaging through the box, and she pulls out a framed photo instead of a book. She turns her steely eyes to Azriel. “You can’t have this one.”
It’s a candid picture of Cassian, Nesta, and Azriel on the ski lodge trip. Cassian remembers the moment it was taken with vividness, because it was one of the rare moments on that vacation where all three of them were smiling at the same time.
“Emerie took this,” Nesta continues, “and she’s my friend, so by extent it’s mine.”
Az smiles politely at her. “You’re right, you should keep it,” he says. “You’re too ugly in that photo for me to take it.”
Nesta sneers back, but gets up to reset the photo on the fireplace mantle.
A day or two later, Cassian notices that the ski lodge picture is gone, frame and all. He sighs to himself and hopes Nesta won’t notice.
***
a/n: it’s official less than five parts left!! cassian’s revenge scene is gonna be hotter than every smut scene combined
tagging: @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook a favor: @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland @moodymelanist @pixieelea @teagoddess99
216 notes · View notes
cheri-translates · 4 years
Text
Headcanon: A week without you
You plan to set out on a week-long trip with Anna, Kiki and Willow.
How do the guys react to the news and cope during your absence?
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🌹VICTOR🌹
Before you leave
As the day of your long-awaited trip approaches, you can barely rein in your excitement
Meanwhile, Victor gets more and more grumpy
“Are you sure you should be going on a trip at this time?”
“Wouldn’t your company end up in shambles with half the staff gone?”
“Goldman informed me that your ticket is refundable.”
Despite his attempts to stop you from leaving his side for the trip, he also sees how much you’ve been looking forward to it
So he eventually relents, and even offers suggestions to include in your list of itinerary
Victor isn’t the type to show affection in public, so you’re surprised when he suddenly wraps his fingers around your wrist at the airport
He lifts it up gently, strapping a wine-coloured watch onto your wrist
It has an incredibly cute design - the face of the watch features an adorable white bunny, with its tiny paws pointing towards the time
“Whenever you look at it, you’ll know that I’m waiting for you to come home.”
(Meanwhile, Anna, Kiki and Willow are standing at the side and screaming internally)
During the trip
He understands how rare it is for you to have a proper break, so he doesn’t disturb you unnecessarily
In fact, you are the one who disturbs him at 3am when his phone gets flooded with photographs of your trip, each one accompanied with a notification chime
Luckily for you, he doesn’t mind it too much
He sighs while scrolling through the photos with a look of affection
“That dummy forgot about the time zone differences.”
Once you’re back
Brings you to Souvenir and whips up a FEAST
Ends the magnificent meal with a dessert you’ve never seen before
“I created it in the week you were gone. Let me know what you think.”
It’s a petite, cube-shaped cake layered with Chantilly cream and drizzled with chocolate, a rose petal resting on top of it
You bring the dessert fork to your mouth
It tastes sweet, but there’s also slight tinge of bitterness that gives it a certain mellow flavour
“I’ll give it an A+, as expected of the finest chef in Loveland City. Is this going to be a new item on Souvenir’s menu?”
“Yes.”
“What is it called?”
He pauses before answering.
“The Taste of Longing.”
You suddenly feel a little shy, and try to change the topic. You hand him the fork.
“H-have you tried it?”
He lets out a sigh, sets the fork aside, and pulls you into a deep, intoxicating kiss
After he draws back, he stares at your flustered expression and responds with the smug grin you missed so dearly over the past week
“I just did.”
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🌻KIRO🌻
Before you leave
The day before the trip, he literally refuses to let you go
Especially after he realises he wouldn’t get to see you off at the airport in person due to a scheduled interview
So he has been latching onto your arm and following you everywhere
“I need to use the bathroom Kiro.”
“I’ll keep my eyes closed, I promise!”
As the dusk settles in and the hours left together dwindles, Kiro grows quieter
His head is resting on your lap as he stares at you intently, as though engraving your face into his memory
You try to cheer him up, tousling his golden blonde hair
“On the bright side, you’ll have the bed all to yourself!”
Kiro brightens up for split second before his expression returns to a pout
“It’s not fun when you’re not in it...”
During the trip
Tries to cope by stuffing himself with tidbits and ice-cream
Savin does not approve.
But snacks don’t taste as good when he doesn’t have you to share them with (or snatch them from)
Tries to cope by playing games past midnight
Savin does not approve.
But games aren’t as fun when he doesn’t hear your voice congratulating him for achieving a new high score
Tries to cope by drowning himself in work
Savin approves... but senses that something is off with Kiro
Savin spends more time with Kiro this week, even bringing him to his favourite hotpot place and treating him to extra desserts
Once you’re back
You decide to surprise Kiro in the studio after receiving a bunch of texts from a worried Savin
Kiro almost bursts into tears
He might not have Gavin’s Evol, but that doesn’t stop him from flying across the room to wrap you in a bear hug, almost tripping over his violin case in the process
After dinner, you’re both on the couch as he listens to you ramble on and on about how fun the trip was
Kiro interrupts you with a long, impatient kiss
After he pulls away, the both of you a little breathless, the cheeky glint in his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed
“You want fun? I’ll show you just how much fun we can have together.”
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🎐GAVIN🎐
Before you leave
Even though you’re used to spending long periods of time apart given the nature of his work, it never gets easier
“Maybe I could come along as a bodyguard?”
As tempted as you are at the prospect, you turn him down gently
It’s meant to be an all-girls trip after all
At the airport, Gavin goes into full-blown maternal mode:
“Remember to check the weather forecast every morning.”
“Yes Officer Gavin.”
“Remember to apply sunscreen before going outdoors.”
“Yes Officer Gavin.”
“Remember to sleep early.”
“Yes Officer Gavin.”
He sighs and encases you in a long hug, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“And remember... to think of me often.”
You almost tear up in response to the sheer sadness in his voice
“That’s not something I need to remember. It happens naturally.”
During the trip
He’s not used to returning to a quiet, lifeless house
Sends you little updates about his day
[Text from Gavin:] Saw the stars on my way home tonight. Even though you’re halfway across the world, I feel as though I can sense you, just like how we can still see the faraway stars.
[Text from Gavin:] I saw a squirrel today. It’s cute. It reminded me of you.
[Text from Gavin:] Hung out with Minor today. He told me how lonely he feels in the office these days without you girls around. Seems like we finally found something in common. I miss you.
Purchases a succulent and places it beside Thorny because he doesn’t want it to feel lonely
He names it Mrs Thorny
Once you’re back
Arrives at the airport at least an hour early to wait for you
Sends Anna, Kiki and Willow home by car as a gesture of gratitude for taking care of you over the past week
“He’s a keeper,” whispers Anna.
Helps you unpack while you take a bath
Chances upon the overtly sensual lingerie you bought during the trip (thanks to Kiki’s persuasive skills)
You happen to step out of the bathroom at this very moment, watching as Gavin lifts the dark blue lace from the luggage
The blood drains from your face as you scramble to snatch it out of his hands
“Ahh! That’s meant for your birthday!”
Poor Birdcop is still reeling from shock
So he responds with whatever comes to mind
“For me? But I don’t wear lingerie.”
The both of you just stare at each other, processing this whole situation
It’s not long before every corner of the house gets filled with your laughters mingling together
Both your faces flushed from a mixture of embarrassment and laughter, you collapse into his embrace, soaking up his warmth...
...and you’re finally home.
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⚡️SHAW⚡️
Before you leave
You kind of expected Shaw’s response when you told him about your plans...
“Sure, have fun.”
“You aren’t even going to pretend that you’d miss me?”
“Nah, it’s not like you’d be gone for a decade. Pretty sure I’ll survive.”
He does skip his morning class to send you off at the airport though
His heart suddenly feels the slightest bit heavier once you disappear from view with the girls in the departure hall
Shrugs it off and heads back to school
During the trip
While Shaw isn’t the clingy sort, he does get bored easily
Especially since his partner in crime isn’t around
Sends you pictures of the shark plushie in different poses
e.g. sitting upright on the dining chair
[Text from Shaw:] Sharkie says he misses you. Gave him a talk on how to be a big, independent boy.
e.g. leaning against a spray paint can
[Text from Shaw:] Sharkie tried spray-painting today but got a little bit of paint on himself. Do you know if he’s machine washable?
e.g. wearing one your hairbands
[Text from Shaw:] Sharkie rummaged through your wardrobe today. Doesn’t he look handsome?
Changes his phone’s lockscreen to a different picture of you every day
Of course, he selects photos that should never see the light of day - a picture of your mouth wide open in an unladylike manner as you prepare to bite into a hamburger, a picture of you almost falling off a skateboard, a picture of you sleeping with drool trailing from the corner of your mouth onto the sheets...
You really need to do a thorough cleansing of his photo gallery.
Since his usual source of entertainment is enjoying herself without him halfway across the globe, this is as close as he gets to having fun
Once you’re back
The moment you set down your luggage at home, he drags you to Live House
The intense strobe lights shroud the way Shaw gazes at you with a rare tenderness
Immersed in the loud music, you have no idea that clouds have gathered outside, followed by the gentle patter of rain
You almost miss Shaw’s words as his lips brush against your ear
“I missed you.”
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🦋LUCIEN🦋 (I’m not kidding when I say I can’t write Lucien. For all of our sakes, this shall be the first and last time 😂)
Before you leave
Takes you to see the fireflies
Catches one and names it “Angst”
During your trip
Exists sadly
Attempts to make conversation with Angst
When you’re back
Exists happily
Sets Angst free since his favourite butterfly has returned to his side
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southslates · 3 years
Text
like an angry god
@kanejweek day four: darkness (corrupted ambition) / kanej / canon divergence - soulmates - one-shot - rated T / read on ao3! / 2007 words
Inej Ghafa comes to Ketterdam as part of a traveling circus. She doesn’t mean to enjoy the city, with its sharp architecture and cold edges, with its people who pray to kruge, but she does. There is something haunting in its corridors, something which whispers to her in its alleys. Inej is a gravity-defying girl, she is an acrobat and nothing more, but these late-night Kerch streets set fire to her bones. It is as if Ghezen has come alive to speak to her and tell her she could be more.
It's strange because she thinks she has everything. She also feels like she is missing something—not something that needs to be there, but some defining feature of her. She feels like she is spinning a wheel with a loose axel.
Ironically, she stumbles upon the Crow Club when Malik takes her in, wanting to try his hand at Makker’s Wheel. She indulges her cousin and lets him drag her into the lively business in the darkest hours of the night, knowing that they’re on break tomorrow. The Suli do not forbid fun, and they drink, Inej has drunk, but she does not want to in this strange city.
She ends up drinking anyway. She is caught up in the moment, caught up in the lights above the table, the large, large gambling hall, and almost in Salim, the friend Malik had brought with him to the club. Inej likes him, has always liked him, and the sight of him loosens her inhibitions. They loosen her inhibitions so far that she forgets him.
Inej wanders off across the hall, stopping to see the sheer variety of people who habit it: a white splatter of the upper-middle class of the Kerch, lazing away a Saturday; a collection of young children from Novyi Zem, laughing away in the corner; even a splashing of Fjerdans, staying away from alcohol and looking distrustfully at the numbers in front of them. It’s an experience, she can admit even halfway down her glass, eyes shining.
At some point she wanders over to a setting of Kerch men and women playing a game she doesn’t quite understand; they’re holding chips and laughing, cards dancing in front of their eyes. Inej has always been a quick study with these gambling games, though she detests playing; it’s something else the city has whispered into her mind, perhaps. It is the Ketterdam in her blood, though she’s certain she has never been here before. She has never been here before.
She sits at the table and picks up another glass. She will be fine; Malik and Salim are truly not that far away, she can see them from here. A women smiles at her with shark-teeth, daring her to down the cup in accented Kerch. Something in Inej does it, and then when she’s slid another one, she downs it again. Her eyes are uncharacteristically bright at the table, her head muddy.
It's only a moment later she’s in someone’s lap, between two people. It is the Kerch woman and another man, fitting her in the space between them. The woman’s hair is a rusty gold and the man has black hair and a gold tooth.
Inej may have drank too much, but she isn’t stupid. She blinks and sees that Malik and Salim are gone from her line of sight—then she promptly sits up, a bit more aware of her surroundings. This is not a situation she is new to; she’s almost been taken by slavers as a child. They had ransacked her family’s caravan near the Ravkan shore and would have stolen her away from her family had she not woken up early. She has learned to be suspicious of people, and she let her guard down. It’s this saints-forsaken city, she thinks briefly. It is affecting some part of me.
“Hey, sweetheart,” the man whispers with whiskey breath, and Inej pulls herself into the space between the bodies she is caged in, ready to pull one of her acrobatic feats—twist her body, do the unimaginable. But before she does and the woman’s vodka-laced breath rushes across her face, something hard clangs down on the table in front of her.
Inej is only human, so the sound makes her lurch. The tablecloth moves forward, and something shatters and then leaks onto her on the bench. She groans, because alcohol will not go well with the cottons she’d donned for a night out.
“Peter,” a voice says crisply. “Lotte. You are not welcome here. Did I not make that clear enough last time?”
The bodies next to Inej scramble away from her, and she looks up in her disorientation to see a man who can’t be much older than her, a cane in his hand bisecting the table and separating her from Lotte on her left. On her right, Peter has shifted away from her and is now standing up, raising his hands above him. “We didn’t mean nothin’, I promise—”
“I don’t give second chances,” the man says, and his voice is cold, so cold it almost crawls into Inej’s spine and then leaves her body, but icy enough that it wants to make a place there. His voice is the city’s whispers in her ears, the biddings of greed. She is buzzed, but she still looks at his sharp suit and glaring eyes and thinks: Who are you?
Or perhaps she voiced that thought out loud. No matter; the man ignores her, watching as Peter and Lotte stand up and try to leave the premises. Inej lets the whiskey on the table, cold as it is, leak into her shirt as she watches two large men grab the two vermin by their collars and drag them away to some corner.
“Wow,” she says out loud at the brief spectacle—some patrons have turned to see the two get carted off, but more seem unsurprised. “I was fine.”
“Who said anything about you?” the man bites. “There are no games here. There is no place for cheats.”
Inej is straightforward, and her filters are off as she wrings out her shirt. “You could at least pretend to be chivalrous.”
The man glares at her, his gaze dark and intense and dangerous—but for whatever reason, Inej doesn’t feel like it will cut through her. Maybe that is just the stupidity of being drunk. The longer he stares at her, the more she wants to laugh. “You cannot kill me by looking at me, you know.”
He says nothing, just takes his cane off the table and begins to limp away from her. Inej bites her lip and stares at his receding back—that moment had felt strangely powerful.
“Yer brave,” the girl next to her says after he has disappeared from sight, into a door at the club’s side. “To talk to Kaz Brekker like that.”
“Who?” Inej asks, and the boy next to her, keeping his distance after what had happened to the woman in his previous position, looks almost affronted.
“He is Kaz Brekker, Ja. They say he has played cards with the devil and won,” he says, like he is speaking of a myth, and not the twenty-year-old man with a ridiculous glare Inej had faced just moments ago. “He used to be better, ja, growing up on the streets. But he culled his boss right las’ week, he did. Hung his body from the lighthouse by First Harbor. They say he will commit any sin, without a price. Bloodthirsty.”
Inej leans in close to him, feels something lock into place, the gears of her heart. “Really?” she asks. “He just seems like a man.”
“He is no man, he is a demon. A quick thief, too,” the girl nods to her, and Inej grasps at her pockets. Her coinpurse is missing.
“An immature demon,” she says, stepping up, her head spinning just a bit. “Cheap tricks, for shevrati.”
Inej Ghafa leaves them there and takes the path that the man with the cane had followed; he couldn’t have gotten too far from her, with his disability. Ostensibly, she knows she should not be trying to pick a fight in the middle of the night with a man who just hung another in a public display, but the city is speaking to her; the club is, as though it has a heart. Inej believes in saints, and they are leading her a certain way, giving her the want to get her coinpurse back. It had a sizeable amount of kruge, and she refuses to be made a fool of.
The hallway is dark and she follows its walls to a set of stairs, and then walks up them. At the end there is a door, and to its side, when she moves her hand a certain way, another small alley; a trick alley. She follows that aisle to another door, wooden and locked and in the pitch dark. She shoves her body weight against it.
She doesn’t know what she is planning on doing. Do demons give you back your money if you ask them nicely? What is inserting this drive into her veins?
“What?” a voice roars from inside the room, and then a moment later, as Inej pushes herself against it, it opens. She almost trips onto a cold metal floor, but she doesn’t—she is an acrobat, even sheets to the wind. So she rights herself and turns to the man with the cane—Kaz Brekker.
“You,” he says, distaste coating his mouth. There is no good intent hidden in that word, nor in the hard lines of his face. Whoever this man is, he is not good.
“Me,” Inej agrees, then holds out her hand. “My coinpurse, please.”
“Your . . . coinpurse,” the man says, her face twitching. He is wearing a hat and a suit perfectly tailored to all his edges, a glass man. Inej wonders if she could break him. “Why would I have such a thing?”
“You do,” Inej insists. Of this, she is certain. She’s had it until he was just a foot behind her. “Give it back.”
“You’re very demanding,” he says. Inej wonders if he can feel a pull towards her, like she does for him. His face is surely not giving anything away. “You must be new.”
“I’m visiting,” Inej says, some sort of fear starting to creep into her voice. Perhaps the liquid courage has left her soul in a flush—perhaps the city is no longer with her. She can feel it drifting around her bones, maybe leaving. It is as though it has filled the strange place in her soul with something, not left her empty.
He leans into her—he doesn’t leer, not in a way that is lewd, but in a way that is certainly dangerous. “Well, then, my dear visitor,” he says the word like a curse, “you would do well to leave now, before I break your legs for coming to my office without permission.” His eyes scan her, perfunctorily, and Inej can only dream she sees something below the surface. “You need your legs. Or perhaps you can walk a rope with your hands,” he sneers.
Then he slams the door in Inej’s face. The city escapes her, returns back for its sins, disturbs her edges. I have shown you a story, she can feel it whisper, from the wrong end, wrong beginning.
She slides out of the secret corridor and down into the busy club. The Crow Club, it’s called. The largest building in the Stave. She wonders if the foundation was built on a demon’s work. She wonders why she feels like she should know, why there is a haunting space in her mind.
Inej wonders who Kaz Brekker is. She wonders why her saints guided her towards a demon, what they were trying to tell her.
She wonders how he knows she performs on the rope.
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youarejesting · 4 years
Text
BTS Seoul mates: Dulcet Couple.5
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[MASTERLIST]
Beta: @xiaokoo​ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader Genre: Romance, comedy, angst, fluff, soulmate au Words: 1.1k
Summary: You were connect through music. Yoongi a member of BTS and a music producer was having trouble concentrating. If he sang baby shark one more time he would pour hot coffee over his computer and give up his career to hunt you down personally.
You were happy to see the bags under Aster’s eyes had faded a little and you were also surprised to see Alexa standing in the entrance with Adora. The two were wearing masks, “You can’t leave for two weeks due to quarantine but after that, you should be free to visit the town. Just remember to wear your masks girls.” Adora said with a sweet reprimanding tone.
Adora waved goodbye saying she would come around one afternoon to have tea, before heading back out into the corridor. 
It was kind of funny how silent it was, it must have really sucked being the last soulmate to join the house so you took it upon yourself to make Alexa feel at home. 
“Since Alexa is the last one to join the house it must feel a bit intimidating or exclusive so let’s all try to be nice and accommodating to her. I know I would feel odd being last, so I will give Alexa the tour of the house. How about you all prepare some snacks and drinks and maybe we can sit and get to know one another?” You gave out some jobs and realised you probably should check in with Alexa, “Unless you would like some time to freshen up or rest?”
“Uh, I am a bit jet lagged but I would like to hole out until it’s night time to go to sleep try to assimilate this new sleep schedule” Alexa gave a bright grin as she looked around, “This place is really pretty, I would love a tour?”
“Sweet, this way we will show you to your new bedroom.” you smiled, leading her through the house and explaining the rooming situation. “We thought you would like your own room, so we gave you Imogen’s old room.”
“Thank you, you didn’t have to. I don’t mind and I don’t want to burden anyone by being here,” Alexa moved with certainty. She was poised unlike her clumsy counterpart and reminded them of a really tan vampire. Her dark hair and eyes were sultry. She felt like someone tough who could protect you. 
The tour ended with Alexa unpacking and handing out a few gifts to the girls, some got bath bombs others received scented candles. She had given Aster a weighted blanket that she said might help her fall asleep when she was on her own. “Wait we didn’t get you a gift?” Aster said a little disappointed, Aster loved giving gifts more than she received them. You believed giving gifts was how Aster showed her love, but how she received it was almost identical to Jimin receiving praise. Yoongi also liked words of praise even if he didn’t admit it but he prefered to show you how much he loved you from acts of service. Getting things you need and being there to help with jobs. He liked to be a silent helper, not to draw too much attention to himself.
“That’s okay, it is my culture to give gifts when meeting your inlaws and well I consider you part of Namjoon’s family” Alexa smiled, the group sat in the lounge room talking and eating snacks. It started to rain late into the afternoon and as the evening drew near the power went out. 
“We could play a game.”
“Sure what game?”
“Monopoly?”
“No to high stress.”
“What about scrabble?”
“It’s in Korean.”
“Yeah scratch that.”
“Hmm, we could play bts uno?” Imogen laughed, cutting through the chaos by holding up the pack of cards and searching everyone’s faces for confirmation.
“Sure,” everyone seemed to agree. It didn’t take long for you all to grow comfortable with one another. The sound of someone's stomach growling caught your attention, “we should make dinner,” Thank gosh the portable gas stove was stored in the cupboard. Lighting candles around the room, you began preparing some ramen for everyone to enjoy. 
They all seemed to grow more excited as the aroma of the noodles filled the room, carrying the pot over and placing it on the pot cloth to protect the wood you each began eating, their fill. 
The sound of keys jingling in the door across the hall alerted them to the boys finally returning home, there was a knock and beau rushed to the door and opened it. 
“Welcome back!” She chimed and Taehyung was quick to enter smelling the ramen and sitting behind Iris and stealing some of her noodles. 
“They were mine, and you didn’t even say hi to me.” She pouted. 
“I am sorry my love, I saw you were eating ramen and I was so hungry,” Taehyung apologised pulling her into his lap, squeezing her tightly. 
“Next time I will eat with my eyes closed and then you won’t see anything,” she said closing her eyes “what do you see now huh?”
“I see the most beautiful girl in my world, the love of my life,” he kissed Iris’ lips. 
You got up abandoning the noodles and heading to the boys dorm where Yoongi was dropping his things off in his room. He knew it would be loud in the other dorm so preferred to stay clear of the noise. Leaning your head against the open door you watched him unpack. 
“How was the performance?” You asked curiously watching him stretch his shoulders. 
“Tiring,” he slumped on the bed. You crawled behind him and began gently massaging his shoulder trying to relieve the pain. 
“You need to get this shoulder looked at Yoongi it is causing you so much pain” you spoke softly, it hurt to see your soulmate in pain it became your own pain but worse because you couldn’t ease it you couldn’t take the pain from him, you just had to watch him suffer. 
“Just lay with me for a little bit,” Yoongi smiled, laying back and holding you. It was sweet feeling his hand on your waist and his breath against your cheek, it was a little laboured but each exhale came out softer until he had finally relaxed in your arms. “You smell like ramen.”
It made you laugh, but you let him drift off in your arms inhaling the faint ramen seasoning scent of your skin. There was a faint song in your head unlike any you had heard. It didn’t really have a melody, just an odd lyric. ‘She makes me laugh and smile for no reason, she holds me close smelling of ramen season’ It was cute how snuggly he got, almost making you forget everything, but there was still a part of you that wondered what the others were up to. 
These thoughts don’t last long as you start to drift off with Yoongi lying against you, your last thought is trying to heal his soul. Being close to your soulmate does wonders for your health but you doubted it could reverse the damage inflicted on his shoulder.
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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years
Note
For mermay, could you do 11 for sternclay? sfw please :) I love your prompt fills!
Thank you so much! Here you go. The prompt was “royalty” and I based Barclay on a basking shark and Joseph on a mimic octopus.
For the last two weeks, Joseph has been hearing what a difficult assignment he’s taken, and how most bodyguards wouldn’t take it even with the handsome pay. That the princes of Sylvain are impossible to guard, that they’ve gone through more security staff than sharks go through teeth (this part he knows to be true from the records he’s found). 
Two days in, he’s starting to wonder if there’s been some sort of mistake. 
Now, had he received Duck’s assignment, he’d understand the warnings. Prince Indrid, seer to the court of Sylvain, has already shown himself to be a strange mixture of aloof, demanding, and spoiled.
But Prince Barclay?
When Joseph was shown into his chambers and introduced, the instant the servants left Barclay swam over to him with a nervous smile. He asked if there was anything he could get him, was he hungry, would he like something to drink? Joseph accepted that last offer, curious to see how the prince would react if called upon to perform hospitality rather than simply offer it. 
What happened was Barclay swam into an anteroom and came back with a carved coral platter with mother of pearl pitcher and goblets, pouring Joseph’s first before taking a glass for himself. 
That set the tone for his behavior, and it hasn’t changed in the week since he’s arrived. The prince, charcoal tailed and a little shy, seems to view Joseph as just another mer to talk to. When in the castle, Barclay will ask him his thoughts on the historical and political scrolls his tutors assign him as part of his preparation to one day inherit the kingdom. Out in public, Joseph shifts into the background, watches everything with care while the prince swims behind his parents or, more often, their advisors. 
“Do you think there was some kind of misunderstanding with his previous guard?” Joseph asks Duck over a late night dinner in the hall, which allows them to keep their eyes on their charges rooms. 
“I mean, he seems like a nice enough fella to me. But nice fellas can still be sneaky; from what Ned told me, Barclay’s an escape artist. Think he might be lurin you into a false sense of security.”
“And I think trusting what Ned Chicane tells you is a terrible way to gather intel.”
Movement from Indrid’s room and Duck stiffens, listening, then relaxes.
“Shouldn’t you go check on that?”
“Nah, he’s just pacin, does that a lot, especially at night.”
“He really should get some sleep.”
Duck shrugs, “He should. But treatin him like a child is the wrong way to go. He knows he oughta rest, my remindin him will just annoy him. Besides,” Duck raises an eyebrow, “maybe you better be more focused on your prince.”
“He turned in an hour ago.”
“You sure?”
Something in Duck’s voice sends worry bubbling through his guts, “I’ll check now, just to be positive.”
The bed is empty, the prince nowhere to be found. 
“Shit!” He darts back into the dim hallway, “he’s gone, I’ve got to find him and fast. How, how in name of the deep did you know?”
“Call it a hunch. Indrid likes to play the ‘I know somethin you don’t’ game, but if I let ‘im play it long enough, he let’s somethin important slip out.”
“Shit” Joseph says again, “I, if anyone asks-” 
“I’ll say I ain’t seen you or Barclay since dinner. Ain’t a lie.” Duck winks and Joseph flashes him a quick smile before swimming back into the prince’s rooms. There’s only one door and no secret passageways, (he checked for those himself), so the windows it is. His tentacles can sense Barclay’s trail, faint but unmistakable, and he follows it until he’s almost at the shore. Then it’s gone. 
He spends the next three hours feverishly tracing and retracing his path and keeping his panic to a minimum. When he spies a figure swimming towards him, he backs against a rock, planning to hide until they pass. 
This plan changes the instant he registers who it is. 
“Gaahfuck” Barclay catches his yell quickly and muffles it down to a hiss, “what the hell Joseph, you scared me.”
“And you just made me spend three hours swimming around and wondering if my charge had been abducted. I’d say that makes us even.”
“Didn’t make you do anything.” Barclay grumbles as Joseph turns them towards the palace. 
He sighs, “No, I guess technically you didn’t. But I take my job very, very seriously. If this past week hasn’t demonstrated that sufficiently, maybe tonight has. When you disappear into the night, it’s my duty to follow.” He catches brown eyes studying him warily and adds, “I’m not doing it to be punitive or steal your freedom, or even because their majesties told me to; I’m doing it because you’re under my protection.”
The prince nods but says nothing else until they return to his rooms. 
“Joseph? I’m uh, I’m sorry. For scaring you. You got farther than anyone else did, none of them ever tracked me that well, if they noticed I was gone at all. I figured you wouldn’t notice, so you wouldn’t worry. So, yeah. I’m sorry.” 
Joseph knows a false apology when he hears it, and this is as far from one as a desert is from the deep sea. 
“Apology accepted, my prince. But Barclay” he levels the other mer with a stern gaze, tries not to notice his cheeks tinging pink the longer he holds it, “don’t do it again.”
-----------------------------------------------------
“Are you certain we cannot trade?” Indrid’s fin ripples with agitation as he draws. 
“Nope, Joseph is a good bodyguard.”
“And your crush on him is not governing your answer in the slightest?” Indrid smirks but doesn’t look up. 
“No idea what you’re talking about. Besides, Duck seems nice.” Barclay stretches his other arm, then pauses, “wait, fuck, is he hurting you or something?”
“No. On the contrary, he is annoyingly concerned with my wellbeing.”
“That’s his job.”
“It was the job of all his predecessors as well, but all it took was ordering them around or demanding things in the right tone before they were letting me do as I pleased. I wanted to go to that bar on the edge of town last night and do you know what he did? He told me no, because word had gotten around that it was a spot I frequented and someone there might try to take me hostage.”
“...And?”
“And, and then when I tried to leave anyway he blocked the door with that blasted muscular tail and obnoxiously charming face and wouldn’t move! Then he told me he would if I looked at the future told him we’d both be safe if we went. It turns out he was right, the chances of violence were high.”
“I mean, you don’t like places that loud anyway-”
“It’s the principle of the thing.” Indrid sighs, “so we stayed in and I made him read to me as penance but he was very good at it and I fell asleep within a half hour.”
Barclay is trying hard not to laugh, only because he knows how hard it is for his brother to admit such things. And because, given what else he knows of Duck, the mer might be exactly what his brother needs. If nothing else, Barclay hopes Duck might be observant enough to notice what’s there, not just what his brother tries to toss up like so much sand in hopes of obscuring the truth. 
Indrid goes back to his drawings. Barclay can remember the first time their ministers caught Indrid capturing the futures this way and scolded him, saying the futures to look at were only those the court asked him to, nothing else. Indrid had explained, in a number of different ways, that this was how he could keep the images from overwhelming him, but still they insisted he stop. It wasn’t until he drew on his status and threw a near fit that they relented. That was a lesson he never forgot. 
Barclay hopes todays lessons will be more enjoyable. One of the jobs of a royal bodyguard is to train the princes in self-defense. When Joseph and Duck enter the gym through kelp curtains, Barclay can’t help but be mesmerized by the poise with which his tentacles move across the ground. 
“Good morning, your highness. And to you as well, your highness.” Joseph bows to them each in turn, “Barclay, today you and I will be working with swords while Duck and Prince Indrid work on hand to hand combat.”
“What?” Indrid looks up, red eyes wide, “Barclay is the one who trains hand to hand, not me.”
“Which is exactly why we gotta mix things up. You need all the modes of defense you can get. Unless of course you’re, uh, afraid you can’t take me.” Duck raises an eyebrow at Indrid. 
His brother says nothing, simply grabs his bodyguard and pulls him towards the designated room, calling, “I’ll see you after lunch!”
He and Joseph trade an amused look, then swim to the shelf of blunted training weapons. They’re still bone or sharks tooth, but they’ve been sanded down so no one can get hurt. 
“Now, you mentioned you’ve done some sword work, so am I right that you know how to hold this safely?”
“Yep.” Barclay takes the sword, swimming over to one of the Xs on the floor. 
“Good. To keep things fair for now, I won’t use my tentacles for anything other than swimming.” Joseph takes his position on the opposite X and lifts his sword, “ready?”
Barclay nods and then immediately parries as Joseph lunges with a burst of speed. He recovers quickly, and they begin an elegant back and forth, bubbles and stray sand swirling through the air as they spin and dodge around one another. Joseph keeps up a steady stream of commentary, either positive or instructive, and Barclay is having a hard time ignoring the the thrill he gets every time Joseph pulls off a graceful maneuver. 
When they break, both a little winded, there’s a crash from the next room. 
“Fuck! You okay, your highness?” Duck sounds concerned. 
“Yes, now try that again, I am going to get this right.” 
Joseph glances at him, “Should we-”
“Nah. He kinda sounds like he’s enjoying himself.”
The other mer studies him, “Are you?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Then I’m going to ask you to stop holding back. I can’t train you effectively if I don’t know what your skill level actually is.”
He’s learned not to insist Joseph is mis-observing things when he’s actually observing them perfectly; the other mer is too sharp for that. 
“I...I just don’t want to hurt you.”
Joseph swims close, sets a hand on his shoulder, “For starters, these are fake swords, and I’m not a bad fighter. But more than that, I suspect there’s a very impressive swordsman under those scales.”
They take their positions and when Joseph gives the signal Barclay attacks with all the force his tail can muster. Joseph dodges easily but makes an approving noise. Then he grins, the expression downright rakish, and attacks with such precision and speed that Barclay barely manages to counter him. 
His focus narrows down to the fight, to watching Joseph’s body for every sign of movement, every twitch of muscle and tentacle. Finally, he sees his opening and drives the other mer backwards until he’s trapped, back to the rocky grey wall. 
“Well” Barclay pants, images of finishing the fight with a kiss banging about his mind, “what do you think of that, Joseph?”
Two tentacles rise, plucking both swords from their fighters hands as his bodyguard murmurs, “I’m impressed.”
-------------------------------------------------------
It’s been a month and a half since Barclay slipped out of his room, and while he’s tried twice more, Joseph has been ready each time. Tonight, however, he’s opting for a new strategy.
He bids the prince goodnight, well aware he’ll swim out the window around moonrise. Then he waits just across from the window, skin and tentacles camouflaged with the rocks. Right on time, Barclay emerges, swimming quickly and quietly towards the shore. Joseph follows at a safe distance, forces himself to focus on the prince’s likely path rather than on how handsome he looks in the moonlight. 
When they reach the shallows Barclay pauses, slips a woven bracelet onto his wrist, and kicks towards the surface. 
Who in the name of the wide ocean gave him legs?
Joseph’s physiology allows him to crawl across the tidepools, keeping his eyes on Barclay as the prince retrieves a set of clothes hidden behind a rock and walks into the small town of Kepler, turning towards a restaurant on the pier. 
Someone had to enchant that bracelet for him, has to know where he’s going while using it. And that someone has to be a mer he trusts. 
------------------------------------------------------
“Yes. I made him the bracelet. What of it?” Indrid says coolly. 
“Indrid, do you have any idea how dangerous that is?” Joseph throws his arms and several tentacles in the air. 
“Hold up” Duck turns to his prince, “Indrid, I’m guessin Barclay probably asked for a reason, right?”
“Indeed, but if I say what it was, you will reveal it to our parents and ministers and take it away from him.”
“I won’t. I promise. I, I just want to help.”
Indrid narrows his eyes. Then, remarkably, he turns to Duck and cocks his head. Duck nods. 
“Very well. And yes, I will grant you that favor you’re about to ask for…”
----------------------------------------------------------
How do humans manage with these things? His tentacles tell him so much more than these useless feet do. 
Joseph makes his wobbly way into Kepler, following Barclay’s trail down the pier, the one he’s walked the last two weeks while Joseph intermittently clung to the nearby wooden supports or fencing to make sure his prince wasn’t in danger. 
Even with Indrid’s explanation, the room he enters is a surprise. Several counters with what he knows humans call “stoves” sitting on them, each manned by one or two people. 
“Hello there” An affable older man in a multi-colored shirt approaches him, “you here for the class?”
“Yes.”
“Great! Hmmm, since you’re new, better pair you with someone, just to be safe. Follow me.”
Joseph isn’t afraid of much. But when he sees who the man intends to pair him with, he almost jumps out the window and flees back to the sea.
“You’re in luck, gonna pair you with my best student. Barclay, this is…”
“Joseph”
“Joseph’s first class with us, so I’m handin him over to you. Make me proud.”
Barclay isn’t blinking, but he manages to say, “sure thing, Thacker.” 
The older man nods, pleased, and makes his way towards the kitchen set-up at the front of the room, greeting people as he goes. 
“What the fuck, Joseph?” Barclay keeps his voice low, “did Janelle give you legs just so you could come drag me out of class?”
“No, no not at all. Indrid did this.”
“What?”
Joseph takes a deep breath, “Barclay, I told you that first week that I’m here to protect you. The way I see it, I’ll do a much better job if I come with you to something that clearly matters to you, rather than force you to hide it from me. No one knows about this but Indrid and Duck.”
Barclay seems stunned, doesn’t say anything as Thacker opens the class and instructs them on how to make something called “marinara” to go on “pasta.” The prince stays silent until they’re working on the cookies the human is also having them make.
“Here, it’s easier to cut them out like this.” He sets his hand atop Joseph’s, pressing and shaking it so the dough comes away from the stone slab in the shape of a heart. 
“Thank you.”
Barclay smiles at him, and the kitchen grows hotter. 
When everything is done cooking, they sit on stools at their station, eating the fruits of their labor. Barclay is animatedly describing the pie they made last week, occasionally stopping to chat with some of the other students. He looks so happy, and Joseph decides he will not tell their majesties about this even if they torture him. Or fire him. 
As they walk back along the beach, Barclay explaining all the things he’s learned about cooking and how much he wishes they’d let him cook at the palace rather than insist it’s beneath his station, the prince takes his hand.
“Humans do this when they’re waling on the beach together. I think it’s to keep them from getting separated if they get hit by a wave.
Joseph is pretty sure that’s not the reason, but he’s not about to say so now. 
They dive back under the waves, removing their charms and swimming side by side in the dark water. Once they’re safely inside, Barclay turns to him, beaming, “Thank you so much for coming.”
“Even if I wasn’t invited?”
“Yeah. It, uh, it means a lot to me that you wanna learn about the stuff that matters to me. That you wanna know the real me.”
“Of course I do.”
Barclay swims dangerously close, “You, uh, do you wanna know another part?”
He nods. Barclay leans in and presses their lips together. Joseph manages to keep his hands himself, but his tentacles have other ideas, curling protectively around the prince’s tail and waist. The instant Barclay pulls back with the most adorable sigh in the sea, Joseph forces them to return to their normal position. 
The prince gives him a final, shy smile and whispers, “‘Night, Joseph. And thanks for everything.”
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writingmorsels · 3 years
Text
Prompt: Surprise...?
One year after the happenings with The Company, you and Alex have finally found kind of an equilibrium. You two have bought a house together in some white-picked-fence neighborhood and you were even thinking about adopting a pet, to fill out the house. Well, you're gonna fill the house alright, but not with an animal.
You've been under the wind for a while now and it was frustrating.
You were temporarily the only breadwinner in the house, while Alex tried to have his old job back, and responding to a dispatch call while retching on your toilet wasn't the greatest feeling to start the day with.
You stopped a fight between two very angry, very 'I want to see your manager' looking women. You had to do a welfare check for an old man that almost shot you in the head with a sawed off shotgun. You had to respond to a domestic violence report only to discover it was for a couple really into roleplay.
You were tired.
Legs like jelly, you barely managed to reach for the bathroom before you could empty the contents of your stomach against the porcelain for the upteenth time that week.
Alex didn't know any of that and for a good reason: he already crucifixed himself for not being able to regain his job or any job really, because of his past. He didn't have to worry about your health, either. He was already a sweetheart with you as is.
It was just a stomach bug, you had worse.
Besides, Alex was busying himself at home while you were back on the field: he kept the house clean, did the laundry and, especially, he finally learned to cook something other than 'reheat bought stuff into the microwave'.
The first dishes were… okay. Edible.
But lately he managed to make something actually delicious… and it all ended up in the gutter, after you had another episode.
You came out of the precinct bathroom and flopped onto the nearest chair, at dispatch's station. "Ugh, someone got smashed yesterday or what?" You heard one of your coworkers joke and you groaned back to him, massaging your aching stomach. "Shuddup Mitchell... it's a stomach bug I can't shake off," you whined a little, making the man smirk. "Oh, so you don't wanna meet the recent reject from K-9? He was so eager…!" and a yapping sound made you perk up again. At your feet was a German Shepherd puppy, the fluffiest and cutest you ever seen.
Your eyes lit up as you bent down, meeting with the jumpy, shaky, ecstatic pup. “Oh my God you so cute! Awww yiss you aaare!” your voice came out as a high-pitched mess, almost mimicking the puppy’s yapps.
Your hands went to grab him underneath his front paws and hoisted him up, laughing as the little doggie started to lick your face.
Needless to say, not even ten minutes later you were sitting on the chair with the now sleepy pup melting into the crook of your elbow.
He had his front paws folded on themselves and he was nuzzling against your chest with small little snores coming from his nose. "He sure warmed up to you quickly!” Mitchell laughed, seeing the dog relaxed “Ready to bring him home already?"
Mitch knew of the cat-dog debacle in your home, so it came natural for you to ask him to keep him in the K-9 kennels for a little while. “I still have to speak with Alex about it… but I’m sure he would love him. Look at him…! Aww sho tired, good boy!” your attention went back to the puppy again, feeling him turn a little into your baby-hold.
You were having the time of your life, for once not even remembering your terrible mornings. “Aww, you’re practicing?” a voice joked and you moved your head to see one of your friends from dispatch, Lauren, approaching her desk.
You smiled, confused. “Practicing?” “Yeah! For the baby!” she replied to your question, pointing a finger towards the sleepy puppy in the crook of your elbow.
Baby?
“What are you talking about?” your voice came out with a slight hint of fear in its tone and Lauren giggled, putting her coffee down just so she could grab her headset. “Morning sickness, it never changes! In my second pregnancy it was even worse! If you want, I can give you a recipe for a miraculous smoothie."
You froze on the spot, her words hitting you so hard they almost knocked you over; all slowly came together with the nausea first thing in the morning, the strange tiredness, the moodiness that seemed to anticipate a shark week that never came.
Lauren noticed your uncomfortableness and furrowed her brows. “What’s wrong?” “N-no!...no I’m...it’s- I've changed pills recently, I’m not...” you lied through your teeth, eyes large as eggs and skin going a little pale.
You felt nauseous again, for different reasons.
You didn't even think about the possibility of…
Yeah your shark week still wasn't nowhere to be found, but you were only just a little late, it happened all the time. You were just...stressed.
That wasn’t the time nor the place to be pregnant. If you got stuck in maternity, how would you two pay for bills and food?
And Alex...oh your poor darling, after a year he still wasn't over Cameron's death and you wouldn't blame him.
You couldn't give him another heartache like that, giving him another child like some kind of substitute.
He would start spiraling down again like after everything ended with the Company, when he finally stopped worrying and let himself grieve.
You couldn’t do that to him, no no no...
With panic starting to fizzle in the back of your brain you watched Lauren, who looked amused. "Oh I get it! Yeah, changing those is always a pain…!" she shrugged before taking a sip of her coffee, booting up her computer.
Even Mitchell felt the awkwardness of the moment, because he broke it by leaning forward and grabbing the pup from your arm. “I’ll keep him for a little more, alright! No problem…!” the man smiled forcefully at you, silently asking if you were fine.
You were not fine.
The doubt had been planted.
On your way home you stopped by the nearest pharmacy and after grabbing an antiemetic from over the counter, you stopped in front of the rows and rows of pregnancy tests, uneasy and confused.
Old style? Electronic? Did the type change something? Did it matter?
"Fuck this…" you muttered as you bought a random one.
During the rest of the drive home you felt that little plastic thing weigh on your passenger seat like a block of cement, the pastel-colored box peaking through the paper bag, laughing at you with it’s ‘oh the joy of motherhood!’ packaging design.
Of course if things would’ve been different, you would’ve been thrilled. Having a family with the love of your life was something you always desired.
You would’ve been so happy to give Alex another baby, give Cameron a little brother or sister. Unite their fractured family once again.
Instead, you now had to suffer all that psychological turmoil, because of the Company.
Even after their defeat, they managed to give anguish to you all.
When you finally arrived home you parked in the driveway and waited for a second, for two. Waiting for someone to pop out from outside the frame and yell "That was a joke, there's the camera!".
Nothing moved but you, as you got off the car and trudged inside.
You passed the front door and approached the small table near the entrance, slowly removing part of your gear, one piece at the time.
The radio, the gun, the handcuffs with their keys, your hat and your boots. Everything found its place while your mind was still in utter chaos.
The only thing still glued to your fingers was the small brown paper bag from the pharmacy. "Welcome back honey!" You heard Alex’s voice come out of nowhere, right next to your ear, and you gave out a shrill yelp, grasping at your chest like trying to stop your heart from pounding out of it. "Alex!" You heaved as you turned, seeing him grinning down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "For fuck's sake you gave me a heart attack! Stop being sneaky when I come home!" You added, watching him now starting to laugh uncontrollably, a half apron around his hips and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
He was cooking you dinner, as always… sweet bastard. "One of these days I'm gonna shoot you by accident–" "That's why I wait until you're unarmed…!" Alex chuckled back, leaning down to kiss you hello.
You replied in kind, sighing just a little against his lips when they met. "What's that?" you felt him reach for your hand, grabbing the paper bag from your grasp. You came back to reality and his hand on your hip suddenly felt uncomfortable.
You immediately reached back and yanked the bag from him before he could even look inside, taking your forbidden loot to your chest. "Ladies have their secrets…!" You tried to joke, to sell him the lie as best as you could.
You couldn't, but he didn't inquire for the moment. Alex only rose an eyebrow and watched you with his interrogation gaze, making you squirm a little. "Don’t look at me that way, mister! You don’t have to know all that happens to my little lady down there!" you tried to double down on being light and jokey, maybe letting a little frustration come through.
It was a half-truth, was it not? "Well I would love to be let in the loop… Maybe I could help you out with that," he spoke softly, his voice in a good spot between affectionate and erotic.
Out of instinct you took one step backwards, away from him. "No no! No one but my eyes have permission to gaze upon the horrors of some yeast infection...or shit like that" while holding the bag closer, you put a hand on his chest to push him away. “I’ll handle it...just…” your eyes wandered for an instant, thinking. “Just think of this a ‘biohazard zone’ for a couple of days, ok?” your free hand now waved in front of your crotch, making him chuckle. “As long as I can kiss you, I don’t have a problem with that,” he replied, stealing another quick peck from your lips. “Dinner’s almost ready hun, go get changed.” Alex then moved away, towards the kitchenette of your lovely home.
You didn’t wait more than a second before bolting up the stairs to the bathroom, clutching the box through the brown paper. For a moment you remained impressed by your bullshitting ability.
You bullshitted your way out of that situation like Michael Scofield strolled in and out of his jail cell at Fox River (Sucre told you several times about that at every chance he got, when you invited the whole gang over for the holidays).
Closing the door behind you, you aimed for the sink counter and dumped the content of the bag on top of, grabbing the furiatingly pale box and almost tearing it open. Your fingers trembled when you finally grabbed the white-and-pink stick.
It felt like a murder weapon, in your hands. “Ok...how do I…” you mumbled, scared.
You never even think about researching it, it was your very first encounter with something like that. Did you have to...stick it in?
You grabbed the flimsy instruction papers from deep inside the box and opened it, trying to find the right language to read it.
Oh…
You peed on one side and see the result on the other.
Simple, right?
Sure, technically it was as basic as it could come, but no one prepared you for the longest. Three minutes. Of your life.
You sat on the toilet after you did the do, holding the test flat as it was written and watching intently at the little white window.
You saw the first line starting to appear, coloring in a light blue, and your stomach started to churn again. “Please stop there, stop there, c’mon it's just a stomach bug, c’mon c’mon…!” you begged the little demonic stick, your knuckles turning pale for the sheer force you used to hold it.
Your blood thickened in your veins, when the second little line started to appear, the color deepening by the second.
"Oh no."
Oh no indeed. You had to call someone...and your mind immediately picked the best number to call.
"Thank you for coming... I didn't– I don't know what to do."
Sara Tancredi had sat herself in front of you, in the small diner you chose for your encounter.
Little one-year-old Michael had been sleeping in his stroller from the moment he and his mother came in. "No problem, I was around!" The woman smiled at you, her eyes already scanning you.
She saw the paleness of anxiety, cold sweat and dark circles. And the way you grasped at a small brown box like it contained a rabid beast. "What's the problem that Alex isn't allowed to know about?" Sara immediately asked and you shrank in your seat, looking guilty. "Why you thought–" "We're in a public place outside his usual zone, away from your place of work where he sometimes surprises you and you didn't explained over the phone while he was at home," she never dropped the smile, watching you with her seemingly sweet eyes...but you knew there was a tigress behind the gentle façade. "I…" "I've been a drug addict for a good portion of my life...and on the run the rest of it. I can recognize the signs, Y/n. Just tell me, I'm the last person who would judge you."
Slowly your fingers let go of the brown paper and pushed it towards her, across the table. Sara grabbed it, confused, and gasped a little when she saw the pregnancy test box. "You mean…?" She whispered, opening the box and immediately looking at the result window. "I had this stomach bug and–" "how many days are you late?" Sara immediately asked and you blinked, counting mentally. "Five-no, six days. It happens all the time, I didn't think I could be…" your voice trailed off as your favorite Doc smiled even brighter, letting the text down to hold your hands. "Is wonderful! Aw I'm so happy for–" "Sara, is not wonderful…!" You heaved, clawing at her hands. "I'm the only one with a job, a dangerous job. And-and Alex is still mourning his son, how can I...just waltz in and tell him 'here take a replacement'! I... don't know how he would react…"
Silence fell between you two for a long instant, where you felt ready to vomit.
You weren't ready for any answer, really. You didn't want Alex to know and you felt repulsion at the thought of aborting Alex's child, making him lose another.
Then, Sara sighed, patting your hands. "Listen... keeping this a secret is horrendous, for both you and Alex. You have to tell him." The woman tried to find your eyes, pulling at your hands to grab your attention. "Everything could happen, Y/n, especially in your line of work. What if you got wounded while hiding your pregnancy and the first doctor Alex will speak to will make his condolences because your child died? It could lead to a lot more drama…" Sara's usually bright eyes turned dark a little, her expression souring. "If… I never told Michael about his son, he would've died without knowing it... and I plan on telling my son who his father was. Please tell him, Y/n. He's a smart man, you will work this through as a couple…" The good doctor then smiled again, shaking the melancholy off her shoulders. "Think about it, if you decide to keep it, Mike will have a friend to play with!"
You had to wait at least three more weeks for your plan to work out.
The first week and a half were spent building up the courage to make the announcement.
In the remaining time, you studied on the internet how to do it in the best way.
Eating anti-emetic pills as if it was candy, you lied through your teeth when Alex asked if your little lady felt better, telling him that yes, you felt better.
You tried to act natural, but the more time passed, the more you felt sick and the more time you spent evading Alex, knowing he would grill an answer out of you if he ever suspected something.
After work, you spent as much time as possible driving around searching for the items you needed.
Sara agreed to accompany you to your gynecologist, making it look like a girls' day out. You and your baby were healthy, the doctor assured you, and the pregnancy was going well. "How come hubby's not here?" The doctor asked and you choked on your saliva. "W-well I'm... I'm planning a surprise for him and-" "aww dear that's so nice! What about taking the baby's first photo to add to the surprise?" The man cheered, prepping the machine.
Your hands shook around the freshly printed black and white photo, Sara laughing at your side and telling you to breathe.
You practically sat in front of the entrance door when you bought online one of the items you needed, grabbing the Amazon box like Gollum would do with his precious, running upstairs where you hid all away in your closet.
Then, THE Sunday morning came.
You two had a really intense, really intimate encounter the night before and Alex was still asleep on his side of the bed. His naked body was always a pleasure to see first thing in the morning, you thought as you rolled over to give him a soft kiss on his cheek. "Breakfast in bed…?" You asked in a whisper, obtaining a low 'yah' muffled in the pillow.
With a little chuckle you kissed him again, this time searching for his lips. “Stay here, I’ll do it.” and then you got off the bed, walking downstairs towards the kitchenette.
Everything had been hidden the night before in strategic places, knowing you'd be the first to come and open the cupboards: there sat a new mug you bought for the occasion, with a cheerful 'good morning handsome' written on the side.
As you grabbed it, you smiled a little when you read the other phrase etched and colored on the inside of the mug.
You're going to be a dad.
Heart, heart, heart.
Then, behind it, you grabbed a pair of boxes. One contained a shirt that you immediately donned, bold text reciting 'sending backup' on your chest.
The second remained closed and found its place on the tray you prepared on the island.
Coffee was made, mugs were filled and a plate of cookies was strategically placed on top of the thin box. Then up you went towards upstairs, where Alex was still enveloped in the blankets like a tired mummy.
You smiled against your anxiety, feeling your hands tremble while holding the tray and the teaspoons inside the mugs clinked as you approached.
You tried to remember Sara’s words, he loved you and you would work that through, as you put down the tray near the end of the bed, but when you bent down you felt your stomach churn again, reminding you that yes, you forgot to buy new antiemetics.
Grin and bear, grin and bear… “Good morning…!” you called in a little singsong voice, feeling your heart stop pounding in your ears when he opened his wonderful, glassy-looking blue eyes, still sleepy but oh so shiny. Gemstones filled with entire oceans. “G’morning honey…” he replied, voice husky and a little gruff, stretching his neck to reach for your lips.
The kiss had been gentle, sweet and warm, his lips still soft from a whole night of good sleep. “Coffee’s ready, c’mon...I brought up your favorite cookies, too.” you moved aside, letting him sit up on the mattress, but instead reached for your hand and pulled you closer for another barrage of soft little pecks. “Mmmh ‘m up,” he mumbled between kisses, eyes closed and body one step closer to fall asleep again.
Oh no you didn’t go through all that trouble for him to just sleep on it..! “You’re not up…! C’mon sleepyhead, before it gets cold!” you chuckled, sincerely amused by his weak try in seducing you back to sleep.
Alex huffed and almost dragged himself to sit up, scratching at his collarbone for an instant before his eyes would finally take in the content on the tray. “What’s the occasion?” he smiled confusedly, brows furrowed as he grabbed the new mug, chuckling as he read the outside.
You sat down on the edge of the bed, facing him. “Well, we’ve been in kinda of a rough patch, lately...with too much job or no job at all,” you started to explain, putting a couple of fingers on the thin box so he couldn’t take it immediately. “This is...a gift...for you,” your voice cracked for a second, nervousness starting to show.
He saw that and for a moment Alex paused, mug mid-air.
“...it’s not a ‘sorry I cheated on you’, is it?”
The question came out maybe a little too harsh, Alex noticed only after the last word left his mouth, but he had that strange feeling that you were hiding something, for so long now.
You only snorted for the absurdity of the thought, shaking your head. “You wish! So you could dump my sorry ass and find yourself a rich cougar, uh?” you smiled, trying to ease his deep furrowed brow. “I’m not cheating, you should know-” “Then why have you dodged me for the last three weeks? I saw you talk to Mitch from K-9 a lot, last month” his husky voice came out with a tense curiosity in it.
“Eugh…!” you rolled your eyes. “Why do I stop talking to you about Christmas gifts two weeks before the twenty fifth? Because you spoil yourself with that smart brain of yours!” you grabbed a cookie from the platter and gently threw it at him, making him giggle just a smidge. Alex seemed appeased by your reply, taking another long sip of his coffee. “I would understand, if you cheated. I know I have a terrible personality, even if I try to-” his voice stopped all of a sudden, when his eyes focused on the bottom of the now nearly-empty mug.
His eyes shot back to you almost immediately, finally realizing what was written on your chest. “...that’s why!” he breathed. “That’s why you were all buddy-buddy with Mitch…! Oh no, Y/n, we already talked about it!” he almost whined, putting down the mug. “Don’t tell me you adopted one of the rejects from K-9...please tell me that’s not it…!” he added, a little desperate. “I love dogs, I do, but we’re rarely home one way or another and it would feel alone all day and it would destroy stuff and-” you stopped his rambling by handing him the thin box. “Open it,” you whispered, now nervous for his initial reaction.
If he seemed so negative about life with a dog, what would he say about a child…?
“Please don’t be a collar…” he muttered as his bony fingers removed the lid of the box.
His face became even more confused, as he saw a little square of fabric with some words written on them.
"What…" Slowly he brushed aside the crinkly paper and raised up what he thought was a shirt, but as the piece of clothing unraveled, his entire body froze, trying to compute what he was looking at.
A tiny, black onesie, soft as can be, with tiny little handcuffs on the front.
"Daddy's best backup" was impressed underneath the handcuffs, in bright pastel colors.
Alex didn't react for a good handful of seconds and now you knew how criminals felt while lining up for witness' identification. You never unglued your gaze from your lover, seeing him trying to understand, behind his clear, crystal eyes. You saw his hands tremble as he lowered the baby clothing, his attention passing from the fabric to yourself, then towards the box again.
A couple of fingers moved towards the ultrasound picture that you left on the bottom of the box, barely touching it before letting them sink again in the little onesie's softness. "Y/n…" he croaked your name and your chest went taut out of pure fear. "Is... you're telling me that...that you…" "y-yes" you immediately reply, as to cut short the torturous wait. "I -uhm… I took a couple of tests...and...a-all positive…" you managed to add, watching him sitting on the bed completely lost, as if the news didn't fully hit him.
He looked at the mug, then at the photo without stopping cuddling the tiny onesie with his fingers. "I... we're still in time if you...i-if you don't want–" "What?" He rounded his head towards you, as if snapping to reality.
You gulped, worried. "You...if you're not ready yet...we can wait...I could find a doctor, Sara will help me after the...t-the…" you stopped yourself from crying, the thought of losing the baby feeling like a wound opening in your very soul.
"What do you mean...not ready?" He then asked with a tender whisper. "I…" Alex gave out a shocked chuckle, but the corners of his mouth curled up in a smile. "I'm not the one pregnant with our baby, am I?" The word finally came out of his lips and the way he said it just melted your heart away, its panicked pounding now filling with warmth at every beat.
You watched Alex slowly fold the onesie again, this amazed and completely baffled expression on his face. "Because of Cameron…" you uttered, gripping at the hem of your t-shirt.
Every doubt you had, every fear, it poured out after that. Alex had always been your confident, your wise guide to ask for help and not being able to tell him your grudges for so long did a number on you, especially for something so important like a pregnancy. "I feared you would take this...as a replacement. Make you remember all over again…! I don't want you to….to fall back down in that dark place, Alex. I could never–" your voice gave out in a sob and immediately he seemed to turn back to his usual, protective self.
His hands grabbed the tray and moved it quickly on the other side of the bed, before taking both your hands and pulling you toward him. "Come here honey..." he called under his breath, enveloping you in his strong arms as you found place on his lap. One of his hands came up and started to gently stroke your nape, as the other wrapped around you.
For a moment, you didn't think of anything but his presence. His beating heart underneath his skin, finding your palm. His breath whispering in his lungs and falling onto the top of your head. "Listen... I'll never...never get over Cam. The death of a child is… devastating." He leaned slightly forward, completely hugging you with his frame. "And yes I was in a dark place… I got blinded by my pain and didn't see what I was causing you…and maybe I got addicted to my misery..." his hands shook against you, but he only pushed them a little harder to grip your clothes. "But don't you ever...ever think that I'll make you do something as horrible as abortion. I can't have you experience that kind of pain."
His lips came and kissed your hair, his whole body starting to tremble as well as his fingers. "And this...oh my God Y/n, I'm not accustomed to this kind of happiness anymore…!" Alex laughed now, his voice that stumbled for a moment in his throat. "And now I can't even... I can't find the words to describe how happy I am  right now..."
All of your anxiety melted away as he hugged you now even more. "So...we keep it?" "It's our baby! Of course we keep it!" He chortled at your question, now letting you go only to grab the onesie again, looking at it with tearful eyes, a bright smile on his face.
Alex brought the piece of clothing to his face and closed his eyes, to feel the softness of the fabric. "You always bring me the biggest joys in my life...even in my worst moments, you were there..." his glassy eyes opened again and found yours, the lights in them shining like a dawn after a long storm. "And now you gift me this miracle…our little miracle…"
Silence fell after his words, the speech hanging in the air like mistletoe at Christmas. Heartwarming, hopeful.
He always had his way with words, didn't he?
"This is way better than a dog..."
Sometimes his way with words was the dumbass way.
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malfoyfarms · 4 years
Text
St. Christopher
Pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.2
Triggers: drowning, domestic abuse/violence, regular violence, alcoholism, manipulation
A/N: hi lovelies, this was written for you because my page hit 350+ followers and “Sleepy Girl” received over 2,100 notes <3 u all
Christopher was a man who carried a child for many many miles even as the child grew heavy, never giving up. This man became a saint, and his image was plastered across items worn by travelers in all forms. Rings, necklaces, bracelets, anklets, pins, sashes and even clothing.
The tales of St. Christopher necklaces were told in your family for ages. All surfers and adventurers who wore those necklaces were protected, always returning home. You wore one, both your parents wore one, and your grandfather wore one as well. It had become a right of passage, one that you intended to carry on with your children as well. 
You were on your way to meet JJ at one of the abandoned lookouts on the island, nervous as all can be. The blonde boy had been in your life for a while now, and had been your boyfriend for almost ten months. Your grandfather had brought up the idea of giving JJ a St. Christopher necklace, as he had become part of the family. 
‘Pumpkin, I see the way he looks at you. That’s the same way I looked at your grandmother.’ Those words echoed over and over in your head. The wise man had always been your favorite, and when he suggested it, there was no way you could disagree. You had saved up enough money over the course of the next several weeks and went with the old gentleman to the mainland to pick out a pendant for your boyfriend. At that moment in time you thought the hardest task would be picking out the jewelry, but now you realized explaining the family history and actually passing over the necklace was the hardest part. 
The pendant itself was silver with a gray-blue border, with a long leather chain, knowing JJ wouldn’t like the metal look. Something silly about it looking too kook-ish. The colored rim complemented your own peach hued one. 
You saw the love of your life standing at the edge of the cliff, looking out into the ocean. You took a minute to regain composure and breathe. The leather chain was weaved into your now clammy hand, the pendant leaving an impression on your palm. 
“Hey J, I’m glad you made it,” he turned around to greet you.
“You said it was important, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” A smile spread across your face, appreciating how considerate he could be. 
He could tell you were nervous. The shifting of weight from leg to leg, avoiding eye contact, and most importantly, the hiding of hands behind your back. You plopped down next to him, feet dangling off the edge just as he did. 
“Alright, spill, you look like you’re going to explode,” he chuckled. You looked up with nervous eyes, hoping that he wouldn’t run away when he realized what the token meant. 
“So, you know how in my family we have the tradition of the St. Christopher necklace? Well, it’s like a right of passage, or an induction I guess to our family itself.” As you rambled JJ went into thought. He had heard many stories from your grandpa about how he believed the spirit had saved him. “And I was talking with Papa about mine, when he said that it’s time that I gave you one.”
With that last statement, you jutted your right hand forward, opening your palm to present him with the necklace. A blank expression washed over his face as he looked at the object. 
“I figured since adventurers and surfers tend to wear them, you being both, it would keep you safe. Especially now that we’re on some treasure hunt,” you spoke as you looked away. 
JJ gently took the charm out of your palm and placed it on his neck, lying just below the shark tooth. He smiled, looking into your eyes. The gray-blue that lined the man’s imprint matched is eyes.
“Is this your formal way of accepting me into your family?” He asked. You simply nodded, pulling him to kiss your lips. 
Over the next few months the tale around the necklace seemed to have proved its purpose.
                                                          ~~~
When John B proposed the idea of surfing the surge there was no way JJ could decline. With the rare amount of storms, the thought of multiple good waves was too appealing. Of course you would have loved to join the duo, but you were out cold on JJ’s bed at the chateau. He just couldn’t bring himself to wake you up. 
They made their way to the beach, dropping all their stuff on the sand and taking off towards the water. The waves were angry, almost as if they were trying to knock the boys off their boards. JJ being the daring bastard he is, he kept going out farther from the shore each time. 
“Dude, be careful, it's getting really rough out here!” John B yelled out to his friend. JJ simply ignored him and kept swimming. 
Once he was satisfied with his location, he turned around ready to ride the wave back to shore. The surf didn’t go as planned as he was quickly knocked off the board by a huge gust of wind and spray. 
He felt his body scrape the ocean floor, while the current kept him tumbling like dirty clothes. No matter how hard he tried to swim up, he was sloshed around underneath. JJ could feel his lungs burning, dying for air. 
During JJ’s fight to resurface, John B sat at the edge of the beach looking for his blonde friend. He began to panic when his board washed back to shore without its owner. Trying to explain to you how he lost your boyfriend in a surge was going to be a nightmare. How would he tell you? ‘Oh hey Y/n, I uh, couldn’t find JJ after he went down in the surge.’ That was definitely not going to cut it.  
Next thing he knew JJ was washed up, coughing with a slight gash above his eyebrow, two yards away from his board. Relief and color flooded JB’s face. 
“Dude, thank god you’re alive. We’re done for the day.” JJ simply nodded as they made their way back to the Chateau. 
You hadn’t woken up yet, still in a deep sleep, when the two entered the house once again. They quickly agreed not to tell you about the little incident that had just occurred, and go take a nap.
As JJ peeled off his wet bottoms and replaced them with sweatpants, he noticed the pendant on his neck. St. Christopher. He owed the legend big time. He turned to you, chuckling at how you slept. He tried to squeeze in around your body, but since you currently resembled a crumpled piece of paper, he lifted you up a tad to allow him to slip next to you. You barely woke up, but you stirred enough to realize who was underneath you. Your fingers brushed his necklace and you instantly nuzzled to the boy next to you.
                                                       ~~~
The second time the necklace seemed to be looking out for JJ was when he had a run in with his father. JJ had loudly stumbled into the house, causing Luke to wake up. The man’s footsteps came barreling through the house to meet the intruder. When he saw it was his son, he was livid. 
The alcohol induced rage made Luke only see red. He littered blow after blow to his son, not hearing the screams coming out of JJ’s mouth.
“You stupid motherfucker, coming into my house, loud as all can be, especially when I have to work tomorrow,” JJ knew working was a lie, his father gambled on Tuesdays. “I do nothing but provide for your lazy ass and this is how you repay me?” 
JJ prepared himself for another kick or punch or slap, but it never came. He opened his eyes to see his father lying on the ground. 
He quickly picked himself up, grabbed a few things from his room and exited the house, making his way back to the chateau. The entire walk back he played with the necklace he had removed from his neck. The cold metal in his hand was the only thing keeping him semi-relaxed as he made his way to your house. 
   He bound through the front door, marching directly to your room, catching you off guard as you were reading a book. The marks that tracked his body were fresh, and so was the emotional turmoil. JJ threw himself on to your bed, dying to find comfort in something that smelled like you. 
You tended to his physical and emotional wounds as best as you could, desperately trying to provide as much security as you could. The boy looked so young and vulnerable as his wet hair clung to his face and he was wrapped in a quilt. You held him close to your chest, swaying gently.
“He brought me home,” his voice crackled. You let out a noise of confusion. “St. Christopher, he brought me home. Maybe not scratch-free, but he made sure I made it.”
The size of your heart had grown four times in size. The small necklace was wrapped around his hand, sitting in between his pointer and middle finger. 
“St. Christopher knows right where you belong.”
                                                         ~~~
The third, and hopefully not last, time St. Christopher had brought JJ back to you was the most defining. 
Each pogue member had their own intricate tasks on how to get John B and Sarah off the island, your’s being a distraction for the police force. The only specific detail you had to follow was the timing. You needed to capture an audience after dark when the lovers would try to exit island waters. The larger the distraction the better, but you may have overdid it this time. 
While JJ, Kie and Pope had been prepping the boat all day for the escape, you had been wandering the island looking for trouble. Within the time period of you being MIA, you managed to stumble upon Rafe Cameron looking as cracked out as ever. Bingo, you thought, time to light the fuse. 
Walking up to Rafe, you began to pester him. Talking about Sarah, cocaine, and how his dad wasn’t happy that he killed the Sheriff. Telling him he never would live up to the kook expectations. You tried to pull out every card you could to infuriate him. 
Now, hours later, and many many provoking conversations with Rafe later, it was dark and your time to shine, or die.
The police officers were trying to negotiate with Sarah and John B, but were at a complete halt when they saw you were being held with a knife to your throat. You were bloodied and cut as his knife hadn’t been an empty threat
“If-if you don’t stop all of this nonsense about finding my sister, I-I will slit her throat,” Rafe screamed. 
The attention attracted the cameras, Ward, all the deputies and even your friends who were waiting in the tent next to the police. Your panicked face had everyone forgetting about the two escapees. 
“Rafe, son, please put the knife down,” Ward tried to coax him. You instantly felt the blade tighten against your throat. Tears ran down your face, small cries floated from your lips. Rafe’s dirty fingernails dug into your hips causing you to drop to one side in pain. 
“NO! She knows the truth Dad! We need to silence her! I managed to capture her, aren’t you proud Dad?” You pressed your head back into him, trying to get away from the knife, but that action had backfired. He pressed his face against yours, getting spit and tears on your cheek. 
Something must have clicked in Ward’s head because his next statement saved your life. “Of course Rafe, I’m so proud of you.” 
As you dropped to the ground, you were surrounded by an officer, carrying you over to the group of kids who you loved most of all. You could only pick out one voice though, JJ. 
“Y/n, don’t you ever do that again!” he scolded while pulling you against his body. “I can’t lose JB and you on the same night.”
You gently giggled against his chest, trying to stop the tears and from flowing. You were too happy to be pressed up against his chest, smelling the faint scent of weed, deodorant and salt. 
“Don’t be mad, I had to go that far, it was the only way,” you wailed. The grip on you tightened as you felt Kiara and Pope hug you as well. 
It was hours after your parents and grandpa had come to retrieve you and JJ from the beach, and the two of you laid in your bed, refusing to be further than three feet away. Your stomach was pressed against JJ’s as you ran your fingers around his collar bone. His lips sat on the crown of your forehead. 
You broke the silence with words that echoed JJ’s from a few months before. “I did it because I knew he would bring me home to you. No matter how big the adventure, he’d bring me home. One day he’ll bring us home to our biggest adventure, but today was not the day. He knew we were still needed.”
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