#and then watching his task force try to fire him

[krtri]

i wonder if the wreckage of jean and harry’s partnership is like a horror movie for kim

[writersdrug]

Training for Two

Chapter 1. Interview

Masterlist

SUMMARY: After Riley's injury on a mission, she can no longer be a part of the task force. Simon reluctantly starts looking for a dog-sitter to watch her while he's away for work, and that's when you show up on his doorstep.

Warnings: none

Simon Riley would have laughed if anyone had suggested that he needed a dog-sitter.

Riley, his eighty-pound German Shepherd and only family (outside of the 141, of course), went with him everywhere. Grocery store? There she was, K-9 vest on to avoid getting the stink eye from trouble-stirring strangers. Missions? She was there, working alongside Simon, and when she couldn't join, she was safe and tucked away on the animal unit back on base. At the small, one-story unit he called home? You'd better believe she's sitting on the couch next to him as he watches the telly, trying not to succumb to his daily nap. He never considered having a dog-walker care for her, since there was hardly a second where she wasn't walking right there with him.

But of course, as expected - life threw him a curveball.

The mission had gone well so far; everyone was booking it to exfil, hardly worrying about the few enemies left who could barely manage to fire their guns. Simon and Riley were sprinting to the heli, Simon already imagining how he was going to take a fat nap when he got back to base, when he heard it - amidst the sparce gunshots, Riley's pained yelp.

Simon had never shot someone so fast, but before he knew it, there was a bullet planted between the enemy soldier's eyes. Simon rushed to scoop Riley into his arms as she whined and howled - he loaded her onto the helicopter with Soap's help, hands shaking as he looked for the damage. Her right hind leg was bleeding, and every time he tried to look at it, she snapped her teeth in his direction with a shrill yap.

Simon couldn't hear Price as he promised to get her into surgery ASAP. He didn't register Gaz wrapping gauze around her leg as he carried her off the heli and into the medbay. He couldn't hear Johnny trying to comfort him as they stood in the hall, waiting for her to come out of the operating room so Simon could finally see her again. The only thing he could comprehend was her cries, her blood, and the fact that he was responsible for all this.

It wasn't a lethal injury, he knew that. But he assumed, and the vet later confirmed that she wouldn't be fit to continue working. And that terrified him. He had to continue working - what would happen to her? He wouldn't put her up for adoption, in fact, he'd nearly bit the head off the poor soldier who had suggested the idea. She'd be coming home with him, once she had fully healed, but then what? How would he take care of her when he had to go on missions?

He couldn't. Much to his chagrin, and as much as he hated the thought of her being under anyone else's responsibility, he was forced to hire a pet-sitter. He begrudgingly posted ads online, and even put his request up at the local doggie-daycare, despite having never sent Riley there. It didn't take long after bringing Riley home before people began to answer his ad, and he plucked a good handful of them to interview over the weekend.

So, there he was - sitting in the breakfast nook with Riley at his feet, silently judging each interviewee that had walked into his home. He was quite disappointed in the selection.

Simon had already decided 'no' to nearly every dog sitter that had answered his ad. He sat across from them as they described their skills and achievements, bored out of his mind as they treated the interview like it was a college application. He didn't want an egotistical, decorated twat caring for his dog... if Riley didn't care about this bloke being voted 'dog-walker of the month' by the doggie daycare, why should he?

He knew it came down to much more than that - but he was going by Riley's reaction, too. And so far, she was uninterested in all seven that he had interviewed thay day. She sat by Simon's feet, bum leg out and eyes zoning out on the stranger's shoes as they droned on. No one had actually paid much attention to her, instead focusing on impressing Simon.

He hated to admit it, but a boarding house for dogs might be the best option.

He had just scratched the second to last name off of his list of interviewees, pouring himself a cup of coffee at 4 pm, when a knock rapped at his door. He sighed, looking down at Riley; she was laying on her side, huffing at the fact that the random visits from random people was still going on.

"One more, eh?" Simon said, reaching down to ruffle her ears. She groaned through her nostrils in annoyance as he straightened out and walked towards the door.

He reluctantly opened it to find you standing there.

You, with nothing but your phone and keys, wearing a t shirt, oversized plaid, leggings, and sneakers. No folder full of resumes and reviews, no bone-shaped doggie bag holders... the only other thing you had was an apologetic look on your face.

"Hi." You said warily.

"Evenin'." Simon responded, leaning against the door.

You sighed. "I should let you know- well, aren't I being rude..." You rolled your eyes at yourself and stuck your hand out at him. You stated your name with a sheepish smile.

He stared at your hand for a second, before shaking it with his own. "Simon."

The way your eyes lingered on his hand after he had gripped it so firmly didn't go unnoticed by him - but you quickly regained focus. "Well - before you waste your time on me, I should explain: I didn't read the posting correctly, and I thought this was a house-sitting gig. Only just noticed when I checked the address before I left... figured I'd still stop by since I told you I would."

You were looking at the ground out of embarrassment at this point. Simon's brow furrowed as he observed you. House-sitting isn't horrendously different from pet-sitting... he thought. "Well-"

"But I love dogs!" You quickly interjected. "Had three of them growing up, two bullies and a golden! Loves of my life, they are- never a day I didn't walk them. Well, besides that one week for Becca's wedding- and when my Nan had that nasty virus and I had to check up... on her..."

Simon's raised brow must have made you realize the tangent you had embarked on, because you snapped your mouth shut. You cleared your throat nervously and shifted on your feet.

Simon was the tiniest bit entertained. "And how's your Nan now?" He asked.

"Oh, much better." You said with a smile. "'Course, that was four years ago... she- she's alive, I mean! God, that sounded morbid, didn't it?"

Simon huffed out a laugh, before he stepped to the side and nodded his head towards the inside. "C'mon in - you came out this way, might as well chat. Could maybe use a house-sitter, too."

You muttered a quick 'thanks' and stepped inside, immediately taking note of how pristine and bare the home was. No decorations, only dark grey furniture with darker accents... the closest thing to decor was probably the mauve throw blanket over the back of the sofa.

"You like cleaning?" You speculated, following Simon into the kitchen.

"Not home enough to get it dirty." He replied nonchalantly, seating himself at the breakfast nook. He took a sip from his mug as he shoved a hand in his sweatshirt pocket. "Coffee?"

"Oh, no thanks." You shook your head politely. "Not now, anyways. I'll be up all-"

You cut your reasoning short when you spotted Riley, sitting still by Simon's feet. "Oh, hello!" You chirped, lowering yourself down to your knees and reaching your knuckles towards her, palm-up. "You must be Riley!"

She hesitated, then sniffed your knuckles, huffed, sniffed again, and thumped her tail slowly. She tilted her head back and looked at Simon with a questioning glance.

He chuckled, rubbing between her ears. He watched as you fished a small baggie from your pocket, taking out one of the lumpy, golden balls from the contents. You held it up for Simon to see.

"Peanut butter bacon cookie." You said, and Riley sniffed the air between her and the treat. "No sugars, no preservatives. Picked some up from the daycare on the way here."

Simon nodded once. "You can give-"

Before he could finish, Riley flawlessly snatched the cookie from between your fingers, downing it in a few bites. She licked her lips and stared at you as you laughed.

"Where are your manners?!" You said, poking her side. She followed your finger with her nose, searching for another treat.

You looked back at Simon. "I hope that was alright."

Simon shrugged, though he silently scolded Riley for accepting something from a stranger so quickly. "She'll survive."

Over the next hour - which was twice as long as he had entertained anyone that day - Simon listened to you ramble about your qualifications. Except, you didn't mention reviews, awards, or self achievements. You talked about your family dogs (the two pitbulls, Rowena and Charlemagne, and the golden retriever, Donald). You described the time you took care of your neighbor's schnauzer and home when she had to make a last minute trip to Berlin for two weeks. You talked about the best trails for dogs based on the texture of the ground and the environment (the younger dogs liked Swan's trail more, due to the thicker, woody area; older ones seemed to like Ellington park, where it was more of a suburban area with smoother paths). You rattled on about how that damn husky in the apartment across from you is always yelling, and how you really should invest in some noise-cancelling headphones.

Simon listened to every word you said. You seemed to know more than just how to walk a dog - it was almost as if you knew their language. You didn't just live with them, you cared about their personalities and preferences. He had a subconscious appreciation for how you regarded them - despite trying to keep up the act thay he was unhappy about needing a dog-sitter, he liked you.

And clearly, so did Riley. She was laying at Simon's feet, completely relaxed, eyes flitting between you and your hand movements as you spoke. You would occasionally look down to her, as if you were letting her know that she was also a part of the conversation, and she would lift her head ever so slightly and stare back - like she was listening.

"- and she decided that the day before my biochemistry exam, she was going to take her frustration out on my notes! Papers everywhere, even my sticky notes were torn up! You'd think she had a personal vendetta against me, wouldn't you?" You looked down at Riley for affirmation, and she looked back at you and slapped her tail against the floor a few times.

Simon chuckled, then sighed. "Well- I think you're more than qualified for this, and I think she likes you." He nudged Riley with his foot, who looked at him and huffed.

Your eyes widened. "Does that mean I got the job?"

He nodded. "Don't know when I'll be deployed next, but it should be soon. I'll send you an email with Riley's routine, and if you want to make some extra cash, I'll include some things you can do around the house."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" You exclaimed. You leaned down to Riley, who reached her head out and sniffed the air between your faces. "Ya hear that girl? You're stuck with me!"

Simon chuckled and stood up, followed by you and Riley. "You can expect to hear from me by Tuesday. I'll give you the spare key the morning I head out."

You followed him out of the kitchen and towards the front door. Riley pushed past you to stay close to Simon's side.

"That's fine. My schedule's flexible, I don't do much besides babysit. Also, let me know her preferences, like where she likes to walk, treats, toys, things like that."

Simon opened the door for you and you stepped outside, turning to face him on the landing. "Also - glad you didn't go with Mitchell. Bloke's a fraud."

Simon's brow raised as he leaned against the door. "S'cuse me?"

"Daniel Mitchell. Saw him on your piece of paper there." You replied, making Simon look down at the crumpled list of interviewees in his hand. "He was NOT dog-walker of the month - in fact, he was turned away when he applied to work at the daycare. He treated the dogs like they were cats, for gods sake! Said they don't actually need to be walked n' you can just let them in the backyard for a few minutes. He's out of his head!"

You sighed, tugging your keys out of your flannel pocket. "Anyways, I should get going. I'll look out for your email!" You turned and departed down the walkway, not sparing Simon a second glance as you left him in the doorway. "See you soon!"

He watched you climb into your small car, returning the wave you gave him before you pulled out of his driveway and disappeared down the street. Simon felt an odd stillness in his home - you had came and went like a storm, and the only evidence that you were ever here was the small baggie of peanut butter and bacon cookies on the kitchen table. He sighed, closing his front door and looking down at Riley.

"She's either gonna be the best, or the worst." He said, running a hand down his face.

Riley let out a groan, which turned into a high-pitched growl. She shifted her weight back and forth on each foot anxiously.

He raised an eyebrow. "Want t' go see Johnny?" He asked. She barked at the familiar name, running to where her leash hung in the closet.

He supposed it was about time. He hadn't seen his team since she was sent home. He knew she was probably aching to see someone other than him right now, and he was honestly going a little stir crazy himself, after spending so much time in the normal, civilian world.

He moved next to her, grabbing the leash and snapping it to her collar. She immediately ran back to the door and waited for him to open it, and he laughed.

"A'right, a'right... but no tackling Price this time. Nearly took out a few of his teeth last time, ya ninny."

Next ->

[appleblueberry-pie]

YOU ARE EVERYTHING.

Where: You were Satoru's young caretaker when he was a child being raised by the clan. You became everything he ever wanted, and when he needed you most, you were taken away by the people that made him who he is. He takes it to heart and sought out for you when he becomes an independent adult. (7 year age gap)

With you, he was nothing. With you, he wasn't a weapon. A gun with its only purpose being to fire its trigger when it was pulled. With you, he wasn't a clan member, riches covering every inch of his floors and face. He wasn't the fear forced into those he faced, whether he liked it or not. He wasn't the balance of the planet he lived on. With you, he wasn't secretly scared. He wasn't silent. He wasn't silenced. He wasn't numb. He wasn't a thing. He wasn't an it. He was simply nothing. And being nothing with you made him become everything he could've ever hoped for.

He was a child, but he wasn't treated like one. And being his caretaker in such an....intimidating "home" made you sad for him. He was a blank canvas. He could've been rude to you. He could've spoken your ear off, threw things at you, berated you, cried, hid, smiled, anything. But he seemed so empty, alone, even though he was everything nature could've made him.

He was tired. You knew he was. A child shouldn't look at you the way he did when he first met you. So, in return, you gave him everything he deserved in hopes he'd realize that the way things are for him isn't how it is for everyone. And that he deserves a chance as well. At life, at living, loving, knowing and learning. So you cared.

I mean, it was your job to do it. It's in the name damnit. But that's not what they wanted you to do. You were just his baby sitter. Watch him for 5 hours a day, and they'll train him for 11 and then he sleeps for the rest. But with those 5 hours, you knew it could be more than just sitting around in his room or garden all day. So you attempted to incorporate some fun in every once and a while to try and get him to warm up to you.

You believe he was too used to people being there just to check on his well being; if he was living and breathing. So you gave some conversation crumbs. "Are you alright?", "Do you feel okay?" and the most difficult one, "How do you feel?" He would be a little taken aback by this last question(his face was still, but he would hesitate to answer). But he would answer, nonetheless. It felt like great progress knowing that he wouldn't flat-out ignore you. This was a great first step, in your opinion. And from there, you would continue talking to him.

Asking him how his day was during his lunch time. Offering to walk him around his place of living if he was bored of staying in his room. Asking if he wanted to wear something more comfortable if his traditional clothes bothered him too much. Making(one-sided) conversation while you cleaned his room. You would talk, but eventually, you would see him watching you talk as you cleaned.

About a few weeks later, he would finally warm up to talk back to you. Asking you questions about your little stories you'd tell him about your personal life. What would be provided during lunch that day, what he'd do once his break was over, asking how the weather would be. He'd also make requests that weren't the usual. Which includes the business his family would deal with that he's not usually provided with, if he could go with you while you did laundry across the hall, if he could stay with you during your break time, and....if you could help him with his assigned homework. He began to ask you to stick around while he did mundane tasks, and you realized how much of an impact you've made on his life just by being around and asking him to be present while you were there.

It took a month for him to become attached to you. You warned him multiple times that he shouldn't be so close to the women that are supposed to help around the house, and only help around the house. He didn't care and just wanted to stay by your side 24/7 when he realized how sweet affection could be, especially from someone as pretty and kind as you. You often snuck him little sweets from the kitchen, helped him read his favorite books, and you let him clean his room with you so that you two could spend more time together. You could tell he would always look forward to spending time with you and would nearly complain to his family when he had to go. Those 5 hours became less of a mindless bore and more of a mental exploration of what love and care truly is.

You were promoted to one of the head-maids in the house when his family realized how much easier it was to manage him when you were there to do it instead of the other women. He would comply so much more easier and obviously had a brighter look on his face when you came around to solve things that he was making hard for everyone else to deal with. Now, you were there when he woke up and went to sleep. You helped with his clothes and helped serve his lunch and his dinner. You made things easier for him to bare in the house. Which was your goal. You wanted him to be happy. And happy is what he finally was.

Days flew by with you there. Nights were softer and more beautiful when you were there towards the end of his day. Food tasted better, his training was easier to do and he felt something.

Something in his chest when you were around. It felt weird, but good at the same time. You often caught him rubbing his chest when you laughed at his sassy attitude and would see his ears turn pink. You'd tease him about him being shy and would pinch his cheek, which made his ears and neck turn red, which would make you laugh harder. It was nice having a friend for once, he would think.

But maybe he shouldn't have gave in to his desires. Maybe he should've pushed you away like he did when you first started interacting with him. Maybe he should've ignored his chest when it increased its beat when you came around. Because maybe then, his family wouldn't notice how much of an impact you've had on his life. Maybe they wouldn't separate you two since you guys loved being around each other so much. Maybe he should've ignored you when you told him with a sad face that you would only be around until tomorrow to pack your things.

If only he saw the way his own face dropped when those words slipped out of your mouth. The way his face when to horror, to sadness, to that stone cold look he's had for the longest time. You wanted to caress his face to soften the hard tension that resided in his forehead and cheeks. You wanted to hug him like he let you do when he wanted to cry so badly, but wanted to be a man. Well, a man is what they made him the moment they took away the one person that mattered to him.

When you left the clan house, you took his heart with him. But his devotion always stuck deep, deep in his stomach. And it wouldn't leave. He had never felt as angry as he did when you finally were escorted by car away from the home and his father had the nerve to tell him it was "for the best". He never clenched his fists so hard. Never wanted to wipe the tears off of his face so bad. But he didn't, in case you came back and wiped them off for him. Like you always did. But they dried on his face and remained until he washed his face in his bathroom alone. Too big for an 8 year old like him, but another person's presence would've been enough for him to ignore the empty, unneeded space.

And he remained that way. Alone. For years and years to come. And his yearning for you and your special care and love has been on the back of his mind as he continue to learn and grow, and he eventually became the weapon he was meant to be. He promised himself that he would never forget you. And he never forgot. He always remembered the warmth of your hands. The aura of your cursed energy, and how it felt when it lightly tickled his skin when he sat close to your side. How calm it made him feel. He never let himself forget, in hopes that he'd find you again one day. Little did he know that his efforts to remain in touch with the memories he had left wouldn't be done for nothing.

He couldn't believe his eyes. It was too dark. Too dark to see, but it was clear as day. That hair. That skin. That nostalgic scent and that energy. He ripped his blindfold off and felt his heart ache as it beats faster. "Whatthefuck." He muttered under his breath. It was cold and it certainly couldn't be comfortable like this. How long have you been here? Why were you here? Who did this to you? Was it really you? Was he dreaming?

He was informed of a missing sorcerer that hasn't been found in the past few weeks. Someone had hid you well with high security surrounding the area. No one could get in, so they obviously brought in their best weapon, him. He got through the "security" in a matter of seconds and reached you without so much as a blink of his eye. But you?? Why you? Is this what's been going on when he's been gone? You haven't gotten the strength to protect yourself so you go missing and let some nothings kidnap you and ruin your life?

He feels anger bubble in his stomach. Surprise and happiness surge his heart. The horror and confusion makes the rest of his emotions unbearable to handle. He doesn't know what to do or say. You're blindfolded, gagged, tied up and in thin clothing. From what he can see, they haven't done much but roughed you up and neglected you of things like food and water. Everything else seemed taken care of. Were they waiting for someone to bargain you back? The thought makes him grit his teeth and he'd rather not think about it. When he begins to undo your restrictions on your wrists and ankles, you let out noises of resistance and he tries to soothe you to tell you he's there to help you.

He removes your binds, your gag, and blindfold. You couldn't even hold yourself up, so he impatiently just teleports you back to his hotel room that was provided to him by the higher-ups for this mission. You immediately grow weak in the knees from the random moment of time-splitting transportation and drop to the floor, but he catches you. "I got you, I've got you. Let's get you on the bed, okay?" You're shaking in his arms and it takes everything in him to just not bombard you with questions and throwing past information on you to get you to remember him.

All you knew was that this random man that is intimidating the shit out of you with his cursed energy transported you to a hotel room after being tied up in a dark room all fucking week. A group of religious sorcerers out of nowhere asked you to join them one day when you were minding your own business at a flower shop. You declined and the leader stepped forward and dealt with you accordingly. You put up a great fight and his little family was going to step in, but you just couldn't get to him. So, he finished you first and kept you in a random dark room for 'safe keeping'.

But who was this? What was next after being kidnapped? Was he going to hurt you? Hurt you in ways the others hadn't? You hoped that for once in all of the time you had been held captive, that you'd finally catch a break and be given the necessities you needed to survive and be happy.

You blinked your eyes open, which was hard because the light from the ceiling-to-floor windows were nearly blinding you. The man had a tight grip on your arms and he continued to ask you questions about your well being that you couldn't understand at the moment. You scramble onto the bed and finally gain the sight and courage to look up at him. When your vision finally cleared, you were immediately flooded with memories of the past when you look into those familiar, tongue-numbing eyes.

You stared up at Satoru Gojo quietly for the first time in about 19 years.

.......That's right. It had been about 19 years since you last spoke. Years since you last gave up that life of following those dumb rules and took it upon yourself to teach yourself about the things they wouldn't tell you. To be better than they claimed you were. The byproduct of the people who nearly ruined your life was standing in front of you. No wonder you didn't like his energy. He had so much cursed energy oozing out of him that it made your muscles tense in a way it hadn't before. But that look in his eyes said something else entirely.

".....?" He wanted to say something to you badly, but you looked so scared. You averted your gaze before clenching your teeth. "Where...where am I?" You pathetically croaked out the words. You hadn't had a drink of water in so long. Satoru immediately rushed to the one on his night stand and opened it for you, giving it to you. You eyed the bottle, hand hesitantly reaching out. But you took it anyways, your drive for a drink overtaking your paranoia.

Most stress in your body faded when you drank the delicious mineral water and drained it in one go. Once you finished, you heaved a sigh in relief, the empty bottle hitting the ground. "You're in my hotel room. It wasn't safe where you once were. So, I just took you here."

You don't know if the man in front of you is still the boy you grew to love. But what you did know is that for the time being, you'd have to put your trust in him. You aren't healed, and you don't want any sorcerer government of any kind to know about your possible return. You'd have to ask him for help.

Satoru was more than happy to help you in any way he could. For so long, he was searching for you. His heart nearly broke into pieces when he kept searching, kept searching, and you just wouldn't be there. Not outside his door when he woke up. Not there when he would cry himself to sleep some nights with pounding headaches. And not there when he plainly lifted his head to the sky for forgiveness. He needed you. And here you are, needing him. And that look on your face was all he needed to know that this was his chance at redemption. To rebuild what once was broken. And to eventually gather warmth from being in your arms once again.

[entitled-fangirl]

Dagger.

Cregan Stark x wife!reader

Summary: Cregan teaches the reader how to use a dagger.

Warnings: weapons, violence, sparring, talks of sex

A/n: Based on an ask!

Masterlist

.................................................

"Now, try to attack me."

Y/n held Cregan's dagger in her hand, a hesitant look in her eyes, "No."

He crossed his arms in frustration, "Why not?"

"I'm going to hurt you."

"You won't."

"You're asking me to swing a dagger at you!"

Cregan stepped up to her and grabbed her by her biceps, "Look at me. You will not hurt me."

She sighed as she stared up at Cregan. 

…

Cregan rolled over in bed and kissed the sleeping woman's cheek. "Get up, my love. We have a busy day."

She stirred, her eyes peeking open then shutting again at the brightness from the window.

The Lord of Winterfell tilted his head as he watched her, amused. "Awaken, my slumbering wife," he teased.

She let out a soft groan and rubbed her eyes. "A little longer…"

He smiled and pulled himself on top of her, "C'mon, beauty. I've something planned for us."

She forced her eyes to open again and she looked up at him. "What is it?"

He gave a playful shrug, "Suppose you must find out."

…

"When you said you had planned something, I did not think it would be your wife attacking you with a dagger."

"Aye, but doesn't that make the day all the more exciting?" Cregan chuckled.

Her eyes widened incredulously. "No!" She argued. "No, it doesn't! I'm not attacking you, Cregan."

"Then how would you ever learn?" He counter argued.

Her brows furrowed. "Learn what?"

He chuckled again, "How to use a dagger."

"Oh." She looked down to the dagger then back to him. "But, it's not exactl-"

"-Ladylike? I know." His eyes twinkled with mischief. "Perhaps I don't care if you look ladylike."

Gods, he was a wonder. 

She took a breath. "Alright." Her thumb ran over the plain handle of his dagger in her hand. "I'll do it."

A bright grin spread across his face. "Sweet girl, you're not gonna regret this." 

"I wasn't finished," she remarked.

"Ah, continue then."

She walked forward slowly. "I will do this," her body began to near him, "if you do something for me."

His brow raised, "And what is that?"

Her chest nearly touched his as her head tilted up to look at him, "Anything I want for the rest of the day."

"Anything?"

She smirked and stood on her tip-toes, her lips barely brushing his. Her voice lowered, "Anything, my love."

He visibly gulped, keeping his self-control intact. Usually, he wouldn't care, and abandon any task to take her to their chambers and have his way with her, but this was important. 

He needed to do this.

Noticing his restraint, she brushed her lips against his again, trying hard to break him.

A low breath escaped his nose and his jaw clenched. "My girl," he muttered as a warning.

Her smile grew to a sweeter one. She nudged her nose against his, then kissed his cheek and pulled away. 

He let out a relieved breath, "Alright. Now, do your worst, Lady Stark."

…

The blade was knocked from her hand once again, making her let out a frustrated grunt. 

She ran a hand through her hair as she looked up at him. "Cregan, I can't keep doing this."

Cregan let out a breath, not letting her frustration fester. "C'mon. You're doing so well."

"I have yet to best you," she pointed out. "And you don't even have a weapon!"

He reached out and grabbed her bicep, pulling her to him then grabbing her chin with his other hand. "You don't wish to surrender."

Her brows furrowed, "Why not?"

"Cause then I'll get anything I want for the day instead."

A small fire lit up behind her eyes at the thought. He knew exactly how to bring out her competitive side.

In all honesty, Cregan would've given her anything she wanted regardless, but it added a spark to their sparring.

She pulled herself from his hands, moving to grab the dagger from the dirt. "I'll best you. We won't leave until I do."

He chuckled and held up his hands, "Very well."

…

Cregan let in a gasp when he was caught off guard. 

Y/n stood with one hand on his shoulder, the other pocking the tip of the dagger against his stomach. 

She froze, looking down at the blade and then back at him before letting out an exhilarated laugh, "I did it!"

He grinned, panting, "Aye. You did."

She threw the dagger to the side and jumped up to him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and Cregan was quick to catch her. "I did it!" She laughed again. 

He wasted no time, moving a hand from her waist to the back of her head, pushing her head towards him and locking their lips.

She reacted quickly, and the adrenaline was still evident in her movements. She let out a soft moan. 

She pulled away just barely, "I have say for anything now?"

His eyes looked from her eyes to her lips, "Aye."

"Take me now."

His brows raised, "Hmm?"

"Take me now. In the woods. Here."

A soft groan left his lips. "You don't know what you're asking, my love."

"I do," she argued. "You said anything."

He looked around carefully, contemplating the thought. 

When he decided it a fair idea, he quickly brought his lips back to hers, moving to lower her down to the forest floor.

…

Y/n entered their chambers a few hours later, her hair a mess and her cloak half-hazardly strung across her shoulders. Her eyes scanned the room, pausing at a new sight.

A wooden box laid on her side of their shared bed, a small paper next to it.

She neared it, picking up the note.

"For my pretty little wife."

She opened the box hesitantly before her eyes widened at what laid inside. 

A small dagger laid inside, the handle intricately carved. The Stark sigil towards the end of it. 

"Do you like it?" A voice echoed through the room.

She gasped, turning to see Cregan leaning against the doorframe with a smile.

"It's beautiful."

"Aye," he pushed himself from the frame to walk to her. "May it serve you well."

"It's too much."

He shook his head and scoffed lightly, "Don't be foolish. I had it made for you, pretty girl."

She turned back to the box, letting her fingers trace over the carving. "Truly?"

He leaned against her back, nipping at her ear playfully. "Had it made last week. I've been waiting to teach you how to use one before I give it to you."

"Thank you."

He kissed her cheek this time.

She turned around to face him, "I have had my time. Now it is yours."

He frowned, "Time? For what?"

She grinned, turning to move the box and place it on the ground next to the bed. Y/n turned back to Cregan. Her hand reached up and pulled on his tunic, pulling him onto the bed as she moved backward onto it in front of him. "Anything you want."

"You're ready again?"

"Very much so."

Cregan nodded and leaned closer to her, "Then we shall."

Their lips met, starting a long night for the two.

...........................................

Taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne

[hoshifighting]

"Seungcheol, if your mouth could stay shut for once, that would be amazing."

"You should try sitting on it sometime."

— Synopsis: Where you are a Secret Agent, and on a new task, the director of your agency puts you in charge of a mission, however shared with Seungcheol, your enemy within the company. — WC: 3.2k — WARNINGS: Enemies to lovers, smut, face sitting, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, penetrative sex, reader kicks Seungcheol once, guns, Seungcheol is such a flirty, and etc.

Since you started to work as a secret agent, you have spent eight years of your life dedicated to the operations of your enigmatic organization. Your reputation for being a relentless workaholic had earned you the respect of your colleagues, but you knew that, as a woman, you had to work even harder to prove yourself in this male-dominated field.

The mission briefing had been shrouded in secrecy, and you were accustomed to the clandestine nature of your work. The director, a stern and calculating figure, sat at the head of the table. Your heart raced as you took your usual seat, the weight of responsibility settling over your shoulders.

"Agent Y/N," the director began, his eyes piercing through the dim light, "you have proven yourself time and again as one of our top operatives. Your dedication to the mission is commendable, and your track record speaks for itself."

You nodded, acknowledging the director's words with a stoic expression. Years of covert operations had taught you to keep your emotions in check, especially in the presence of those who held your fate in their hands.

"However," the director continued, his gaze shifting to a figure standing near the door, "this mission is of utmost importance, and we've decided that you'll be working alongside Agent Seungcheol."

The tension in the room was palpable as you and Seungcheol exchanged a curt nod, acknowledging the director's decision. The history between you and Seungcheol ran deep – you had been recruited together, trained side by side, and grown up together 

inside of the secretive organization. However, somewhere along the way, an unspoken rivalry had developed, and your interactions had become laced with sarcasm — a habitual defense mechanism that had become second nature to both of you.

As the director delved into the mission details, you and Seungcheol kept your gazes fixed forward, avoiding eye contact. The air was thick, because neither of you could pinpoint the exact moment the rivalry had begun, but it had become an integral part of your dynamic.

You couldn't deny Seungcheol's skills – his sharp intellect and quick reflexes complemented your own, forming an unexpectedly effective duo. But since you never liked his guts, you never asked to work with him. You liked to charge the missions alone, a bit egoistic, but sharing the mission with someone means that you needed to get along with their ideas. And when that someone is a pain on your ass, you can't help but want the mission to end as quickly as possible.

In the following days, you and Seungcheol found yourselves forced to cooperate.

The training room echoed with the sounds of combat, and you and Seungcheol faced off under the watchful eyes of the trainer, who called for a sparring match between you and Seungcheol. 

Seungcheol's muscles rippled as he steady himself for the impending clash, his confidence evident in his cocky grin. You rolled your eyes, muttering under your breath about the unfairness of the situation. 

You exchanged a glance with Seungcheol, both knowing that this was going to be more than just a friendly sparring session. The trainer's words fueled the competitive fire that had long been smoldering between you two.

Seungcheol chuckled, flexing his muscles theatrically. "Come on, Y/N, don't hold back. I hope you've been practicing your moves."

You rolled your eyes, a smirk playing on your lips. "Oh, Seungcheol, I've been waiting for this moment."

As Seungcheol lunged towards you, you swiftly sidestepped, allowing your training to guide your instincts. With a calculated move, you delivered a precise and well-timed kick to the middle of Seungcheol's legs. 

The room echoed with a sudden gasp "Fuck! My balls!"

Seungcheol crumpled to the ground, his confident grin twisted into a pained expression, cursing under his breath. A tiny tear formed at the corner of his eye, which, against his will, rolled down his cheek. 

"Seriously? A kick in the balls? That's your strategy?" Seungcheol asked, holding his crotch. 

"Well, it never fails." You couldn't help but chuckle, extending a hand to help him up. "Besides, it's not my fault your muscles can't protect you from everything." 

Seungcheol accepted your hand, irritation in his eyes. "I'll remember this, Y/N. Just you wait."

[...]

The air was filled thick with the mingling scents of expensive perfume and cigar smoke. As you discreetly adjusted the gun holster beneath your dress, your eyes scanned the crowded party. Important figures from politics, the music industry, and CEOs adorned the lavish venue. 

Seungcheol's voice crackled in your earpiece, his tone playful. "Careful, Y/N, don't trip over that fancy dress of yours."

You adjusted your black dress, the piece clinging to your body was not the best choice for this type of mission. but you had to look sophisticated, blending seamlessly into the high-profile event. Rolling your eyes, you responded with a sharp whisper "Careful Seungcheol, before I choke you with your own tie." 

Perching yourself on a barstool, you observed the president's wife making her way down the grand staircase. The opulent ring on her finger immediately caught your attention. However, a quick and discreet glance told you what your sharp instincts suspected – it was a clever forgery.

As you listened to her conversation, she mentioned the gift from her husband, a gilded ring with a sparkling jewel that captured the attention of everyone in the room. But you knew better; the real ring was somewhere else.

Leaving the crowded main hall, you discreetly made your way to the backyard of the mansion. Spotting a vertical staircase, you hesitated, careful to avoid any prying eyes. 

As you got up the ladder, Seungcheol's voice chimed in through your earpiece, his tone laced with a mix of amusement and disapproval. "Seriously, Y/N, could you have chosen a more discreet dress for this mission? You're practically broadcasting our presence."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, even though he couldn't see you. "Well, Seungcheol, if you can find a way for me to conceal a gun in a gown, I'm all ears."

A faint chuckle echoed in your ear as you reached the top of the stairs. "Point taken. But your dress is a bit... revealing."

Looking down, you noticed Seungcheol standing below, arms crossed, a disapproving expression on his face. A sudden gust of wind played a mischievous role, lifting the fabric of your dress and revealing a hint of your thigh through the slit.

A small sigh escaped your lips as you discreetly adjusted the fabric to regain some modesty. "I know the view is amazing, Seungcheol, but we've got a mission to complete. Focus, will you?"

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, trust me, I'm focused."

"I need you up here. We have work to do."

"Aight Ma'am."

The search for the elusive ring led you and Seungcheol through the rooms of the mansion. The tension in the air was palpable as you scoured every inch for the hidden treasure, aware that time was decreasing. 

The quiet shuffle of footsteps grew louder, echoing through the opulent hallway as you and Seungcheol frantically searched for the elusive ring. The sudden realization that someone was approaching sent a jolt of urgency through both of you. Without a second thought, you grabbed Seungcheol's arm, and the two of you dashed towards the nearest hiding spot – a closet at the end of the corridor.

"You know, Y/N, it's a shame we're stuck in here. I was hoping for a front-row seat to your fashion show."

Your eyes narrowed, and you shot him a stern look. "Seungcheol, if your mouth could stay shut for once, that would be amazing."

As he investigated the cramped space, he muttered, "You should try sitting on it sometime." His quiet suggestion, delivered as if he had inadvertently let his thoughts slip, hung in the air.

"What the fuck?" 

A moment of silence hung in the air before you couldn't help but scoff, a mixture of disbelief and amusement in your response. "Really, Seungcheol? Now is not the time for your innuendos." 

The thought of sitting on his face was really tempting, even if he was Seungcheol, you couldn't deny the he looked hot as fuck. However, you couldn't let his teasing distract you from the pressing matter at hand. 

"Why, of all people, did they choose you to work with me on this mission?" you inquired.

"They wanted to see if we could actually work together without tearing each other apart."

"Let's find that ring and get out of here before your humor gets us caught."

The realization struck you as you scanned the closet for any last-minute clues – a piece of cloth concealing a safe. Your instincts kicked in, and with no time to decipher the real passwords, you swiftly directed Seungcheol to step back.

"Move away, Seungcheol," you commanded, grabbing your gun and taking aim at the lock. A single shot echoed through the room as the lock shattered, revealing the sought-after ring nestled within the safe.

The relief was palpable as you delicately retrieved the reason of the mission. However, the sound of the gunshot had undoubtedly attracted attention. With a sense of urgency, you pocketed the ring, and both of you left the room. 

Bodyguards approached, closing in on your location. Seungcheol's quick reflexes took down one, and with a swift move, you incapacitated another. The voice of your assistant buzzed in your earpiece, directing you to the parking lot where your escape awaited.

As you and Seungcheol hurried through the mansion, the route downstairs became blocked by advancing guards. A daring solution presented itself as Seungcheol seized your hand and brought you to a large window overlooking the party, with guests oblivious to the unfolding chaos.

You glanced at the dizzying drop, the pool below shimmering like a distant oasis. Fear of heights had never been an issue for you after years of high-stakes missions, but the sight still made you gulp. Seungcheol, holding your hand, assessed the situation.

"It's the only way," he declared, determination in his eyes.

The sound of approaching bodyguards left you with no other option. Taking a deep breath, you squeezed Seungcheol's hand, and together, you leaped from the window. 

Gasping for air, you and Seungcheol emerged from the pool, the water cascading off your soaked bodies. Wasting no time, you and Seungcheol hurriedly left the pool, the wet clothes clinging uncomfortably to your forms.

Navigating through the concerned crowd, you and Seungcheol helped each other, the soaked clothing making every step a challenge. The glances from the partygoers intensified as more bodyguards approached, running towards the commotion. The parking lot, your salvation, beckoned in the distance.

With the sound of approaching footsteps and murmurs growing louder, you and Seungcheol quickened your pace, weaving through the gathering crowd. The black car awaited your arrival. As you reached the vehicle, wet and disheveled, you wasted no time. The doors swung open, and you both practically fell into the car, water dripping onto the leather seats.

Seungcheol revved the engine, and the car sped away from the mansion, leaving behind a confused and agitated scene. The wet clothes clung uncomfortably, but the precious ring, safely secured in your hand, provided a sense of accomplishment amid the chaos.

The car sped through the night, weaving through the city until it came to a stop at the inconspicuous hiding place behind the International Attaché Offices. The tactical team awaited, ready to secure the ring and initiate its swift return to the country, knowing it was in capable hands, and the team quickly moved to carry out their mission.

Once the ring was safely in transit, you and Seungcheol made your way to a nearby hotel. The day's events had left you both soaked, drawing more than a few curious glances as you entered. The receptionist raised an eyebrow as you approached the check-in counter, both of you dripping water onto the floor.

The news that you and Seungcheol would be sharing a room elicited a shockedreaction from you. "Really? After spending the entire day together?!"

You huffed in response, making your way to the room with a glance back at Seungcheol. The tiredness from the day's events washed over you, and as you entered the room, you couldn't help but express your exasperation.

"I hope you don't snore," you quipped, a hint of humor in your voice. "After today, I need some decent rest without any surprises."

Seungcheol chuckled, seemingly unfazed by your protests. "Don't worry, Y/N. I promise to be on my best behavior."

You emerged from the bathroom, towel wrapped around your hair, to find Seungcheol already engrossed in a conversation with the IT specialists, poring over the details of the ring's location. He glanced up at you, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Feeling more calm now, Y/N? Has the anger passed?" he inquired, seemingly unfazed by your earlier irritation.

You scoffed, a trace of annoyance lingering. "No, it hasn't. And it won't as long as you keep talking." 

His grin widened. "Well, you know, I did give you a good suggestion back at the mansion. Sitting on it would keep me shut."

You chuckled, appreciating the humor in his attempt to lighten the mood. However, when the laughter subsided, you noticed the shift in Seungcheol's expression. His playful demeanor gave way to a more serious gaze, and you couldn't help but wonder if there was more to his earlier comment.

"Wait, are you serious, Seungcheol?" you asked, the curiosity evident in your voice.

He met your gaze, the playful facade replaced by a sincerity that caught you off guard. "About what I said earlier? Yeah, I was serious."

Your legs involuntarily pressed together, a strange mix of disbelief and arousal sweeping through you. The suggestion that initially seemed like harmless banter now had an unexpected effect, making your panties damp, while you tried to maintain composure.

Seungcheol, with a cocky grin, manspread in front of you, his cock showing up on his tactel shorts, so locking eyes as he casually asked, "So, what's your answer, Y/N? Feeling a bit more open-minded now?"

 "Seungcheol, you must be out of your mind if you think I'd entertain that idea."

He raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk playing on his lips. "Why not? We've been through a lot today. A little stress relief might do wonders."

You scoffed, trying to dismiss the newfound awareness of the situation. "Your suggestions aren't exactly what I had in mind for stress relief, Seungcheol."

He raised an eyebrow, the smirk never leaving his face. "Oh? And what did you have in mind, then?"

The unexpected turn in the conversation took you by surprise, and you hesitated for a moment. However, the playful glint in Seungcheol's eyes and the underlying sincerity in his previous words made you reconsider. 

With a wry smile, you conceded, "Fine, Seungcheol. Maybe your suggestion has some merit. A little unconventional, but it's been a long day."

Seungcheol's eyes widened in surprise, his cocky demeanor momentarily replaced by genuine astonishment. "Wait, seriously? You're considering it?"

You decided to take the lead, sliding off your shorts and panties in one swift motion. "Come on, Seungcheol, no time to waste. Act before I give up." 

Seungcheol, seemingly caught off guard by your bold move, grinned and chuckled. "Well, when you put it that way."

Without hesitation, he followed suit, taking off his shirt and laying on the bed, Seungcheol's silent gesture prompted you to get up, you climbed onto the bed, straddling him. When you feel the warmth of Seungcheol's breath against your wet pussy, you stop and slowly sit on his face.

You gasp, and he moans against your core, his tongue running through your folds, before sucking your clit between his lips. Seungcheol's hands grab your ass, instructing you to ride his face. 

As you began to ride, the room filled with the wet sounds, the arousal from your dripping pussy, now was glistening on his face, Seungcheol's eyes were attentive, watching your reactions, to see if he was eating you out like you deserve. 

"Fuck, it's so good Seungcheol-ah…" Your legs trrembled around his face, and he answered with a long hum. 

You still stopped from releasing your weight on him, Seungcheol sensing this, wrapped his arms around your waist, your cunt pressed to his tongue now. His tongue swirls around your clit as you squirm holding his hair making his eyes close in pleasure. He begins to suck your bud with more precision, your clit becoming more and more sensitive and the vibrations of his groans against your pussy made your orgasm finally hit you, your legs closing around his ears.

As you released yourself from Seungcheol, sitting on his side. He ran his thumb across his wet chin, a subtle gesture that seemed to convey a sense of satisfaction. With eyes closed, he sensually sucked on his thumb, his gaze met yours, a satisfied look played on his face. 

"Is there something more I can do for you?" He asks, caressing your legs.

A teasing smile played on your lips as you whispered in his ear,  your words laced with playful suggestion. His response was a low, involuntary moan, his lips bitten in response to the subtle teasing.

Seungcheol, catching on to the direction of the conversation, asked, "Is that what you want?" Your nod was all the confirmation he needed. 

With a swift movement, he got up, freeing himself from his shorts, revealing there was nothing underneath. His cock lays on his belly, big and proud, the precum already making his tip shiny. 

You positioned yourself, laying your face on the bed and lifting your ass up, glancing back at Seungcheol from over your shoulder. The suggestive pose seemed to elicit a reaction from him.

With a swift motion, he slapped your ass, a grin playing on his lips. "You're naughty," 

He positioned himself, before slamming his dick all inside of you, the veiny cock was stretching your walls, while he hummed how good your pussy was tightening around him.  

"Fuck, I don't even know why we've been buckering like two idiots, you're so hot." He says before his hips start to pick up pace.

The room became a symphony of moans as you mumbled something about how good it felt, your face pressed into the mattress. Seungcheol's hands firmly held onto your body, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he skillfully hit the g'spot.

Seungcheol moaned, expressing the pleasure of the moment. "You feel so good around me, you lil' slut" he muttered.

In response, you announced that you were on the brink of another climax. "I'm cumming again," you whispered.

He eagerly asked, "Yeah?" And with that affirmation, he sped up his hips, sending you into a convulsive release, spasming on the bed.

As you tightened and then relaxed around him, prompting Seungcheol to release. A primal moan escaped him, and he threw his head back, while he pumped his dick, his cum spreading on your ass. Your body collapsed on the bed, the duvet now soft against your skin. Seungcheol laid by your side.

Seungcheol's fingers gently brushed through your hair, a tender gesture that contrasted with the all-the-time-bickering. He leaned in, kissing you with a fiery intensity that left you momentarily breathless, your senses overwhelmed.

As you came back to the present, Seungcheol, a teasing glint in his eyes, asked with a smirk, "Did I knock you out with that kiss, Y/N? Or was it something else?"

"Hmm… I'll kick your balls again" You threatened tiredly.

"No! You won't!" He covers himself and you chuckle closing your eyes.

[azrielslittleslut]

Angst is always good. especially if it ends in comfort or something like that 💙🤭 how about the fact that reader had to go through something similar to azriel and she also has burns/scars on her hands. That's why she feels very insecure and holds back a lot from others, which of course doesn't go unnoticed. The others try to help her, but in the end it is Azriel who gets through to her and also reveals to her his insecurity about his hands

"Scars Like His"

Azriel x Autumn Court!Reader

Warnings: angst, talk of past trauma, slight language, fluffy ending

Word Count: 3.5k

a/n: reader is Beron's daughter, and Beron is an asshole.

Enjoy!

You fumbled with the button on your glove, your fingers trembling with frustration. You always struggled with small tasks like this-buttons, zippers, holding a pen- but you were too stubborn to admit it to yourself.

You refused to acknowledge that your scars were a burden on your life, that they ran deeper than just the physical. So you ignored them, always covering them with gloves or placing them behind your back. You knew that if you looked at them for too long, you would be taken back to that dark time, back to that day when everything had been ripped from you.

Being the only daughter born to Beron and his Lady, you grew up like a caged flower, always being watched and scrutinized. You had been forbidden to leave your bedroom unless you were given permission. Your meals were timed and monitored, and anytime you did manage to get some freedom, guards were always at your side.

You had never understood Beron's hatred for you. You had always tried your best to be the daughter he wanted. You had never complained, even when you listened to your brothers play outside, laughing and living the normal life you so desperately wanted. The prison you had been locked in became so normal that you had never questioned if Beron would actually harm you. For the most part, it had seemed like he had forgotten about you.

Until that day happened.

You had been sitting in your bedroom, trying to read using the light coming from the small square window. Beron had slammed the door open, his guards right behind him. His face had been full of fury and rage, and you had cowered against the wall, your body shaking in the presence of the male who was supposed to love you.

"Where is it?" he demanded, his voice nothing short of a snarl. "I know you took it."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Father," you whispered, tears welling in your eyes. "I've been in this room, just like you want me to."

Beron's face twisted in disgust. "I am not your Father, and you are no daughter of mine." Despite the numbness you felt, the words stung. He jerked his chin to one of your guards. "Has she left this room? Don't like to me."

The guard's eyes flicked between you and Beron, his face pale. "Yes, my lord. She bribed me. I was going to tell you once my shift was over."

Your heart stammered inside of your chest at the lie. You hadn't left this room, but it was evident that your father believed the word of a low-ranked guard over his own daughter. "Seize her," Beron commanded. His guards rushed into the room, grabbing you by the shoulders and forcing you to your knees. "You think you can steal from me and get away with it?"

You looked up at him, tears streaming down your face. "Father, please I-" you were cut off as Beron slapped you across your face, your skin burning from the impact.

"I told you not to call me that," he growled. "Give me your hands."

You shook your head, but the guards holding you grabbed your arms, holding up your trembling hands. Beron raised his own hands which were now engulfed in flames. His eyes held no mercy, no love, as he lowered his hands, his fingers mere inches from yours.

"No! No! Please, no!" you screamed, struggling against the guards. But their hold on you was like iron, and your body was weak from lack of proper food. "I didn't do anything wrong!" The fire was so close now, so close you could feel the heat-

"Take this as a reminder not to take what is mine," Beron murmured as he grabbed your hands. The pain was agonizing, your skin melting off as the flames made their way up to your wrists. You screamed and screamed and screamed, but nobody heard you.

Nobody came to rescue you.

Your hands had healed, slowly. But they were still horribly scarred, the skin mottled and warped and disgusting. You had to re-learn how to do the simplest things, such as writing and dressing yourself... and clasping buttons on your gloves.

You supposed you should have moved on from that day, as you had not lived in the Autumn Court for a while. You had managed to escape, once you came of age, and you had sought refuge in various courts, praying to the Mother that Beron wouldn't come after you.

He never did, though. You were a burden on him, after all, and you being gone was one less thing he had to worry about.

"Are you ready?" Nesta asked, her soft voice pulling you out of your horrible memories. "Cassian is waiting. He said he expects you to be on time today."

You smiled at Nesta as you lowered your gloved hands. You had given up on the button, but the fit was snug, so you knew the glove wouldn't come off. "Cassian needs to learn patience," you said as you walked toward the door. "I'm never late. I'm just fashionably punctual."

Nesta laughed as the two of you walked toward the training ring. You had lived in some of the other courts, trying to fit in and live there comfortably. It wasn't until you had wandered into the Night Court that you felt what it was like to be home. You had always heard that the Night Court was full of sadistic killers, but you had found the opposite to be true.

You had gotten a job at one of the bookstores in Velaris, which was how you met Nesta. She had shown up one day looking for more romance novels, and the two of you had bonded over your favorite scenes in the books you had read.

Strangely enough, the friendship between yourself and the High Lady's sister had blossomed. You had heard rumors about Nesta's sudden and painful transformation that turned her into High Fae, and your heart had broken for her. Perhaps your friendship was so strong because she too understood what it was like to go through something horrible and traumatic, all while trying to act like everything was normal.

Nesta had introduced you to the Inner Circle, and they had taken you in as one of their own. They knew you came from Autumn Court, but that was it. You didn't tell them you were Beron's daughter, and they never asked why you always covered your hands. You had found friends and a... family, and you no longer wanted to live in the past.

It hadn't taken long for you to decide to start training with Cassian and the Valkyries. You wanted to learn how to fight, how to defend yourself against anyone else who could hurt you.

"What are we working on today?" you asked as the two of you made your way into the training ring. In the center, you could see Cassian showing Gwyn and Emerie some new sword techniques. "I need to know what to prepare myself for."

Nesta kicked her shoes off, a strand of her hair blowing slightly in the wind. "Cassian mentioned something about hand-to-hand combat. It's my least favorite, so I hope he changed his mind."

"He didn't change his mind," a deep voice said from behind. "Which is unfortunate. Hand-to-hand is my least favorite, too."

You turned on your heel, your eyes widening slightly as they landed on Azriel. He was dressed in his leathers, the scaled armor hugging his muscled form. Some of his shadows swirled around his shoulders and wings, while others hovered in the doorway as if they were trying to stay out of the sunlight. "Oh. Hey, Azriel," you greeted, forcing your voice to steadiness.

The shadowsinger had caught your attention the first time you met him. He was the most beautiful male you had ever seen, all tall, dark, and handsome. You knew that he was one of the most feared males in all of Prythian, but when you looked at him, you only saw gentleness and kindness.

You have seen true evil, and Azriel was nothing like that.

Azriel smiled softly. "Glad to see you're on time today. Cassian will be proud," he said, his hazel eyes dancing. The way he looked at you made you feel bare, as if he could see all of your secrets. You moved your gloved hands behind your back, desperate to keep them away from the spymaster's calculating gaze.

Nesta scoffed. "She says she's never late. Only fashionably punctual. Whatever the hell that means."

"Hey!" Cassian called from the training ring. "Less talking. More training. Let's go!"

You rolled your eyes, turning around to walk toward Cassian, but you were stopped by a gentle hand on your arm. You glanced down at the scarred flesh, your stomach twisting at the sight. You had seen Azriel's scars before, and you often wondered what horrible experience had caused them. "Your gloves," he murmured. "You should take them off before training. They can get in the way during this type of combat."

You gently pulled your arm free from his grasp, forcing your expression to remain neutral. "My hands are cold," you responded, hoping that was a good enough answer. "Thank you for the advice, though."

You sprinted into the training area, leaving Azriel behind in the shadows of the doorway. You could still feel his eyes on your back as you took your place beside Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie. Azriel made his way next to Cassian, his black hair gobbling up the light in the training ring.

"Today, we are working on hand-to-hand combat," Cassian announced. He paced back in forth, his wings tucked in tight as he gave his instructions. "First rule: keep your balance. If you're off balance, you're vulnerable. The second rule: control your breathing. It seems like a small thing, but it's the difference between lasting five minutes and lasting an hour." He ran a finger across his chin, his eyes flicking over to Azriel. "Anything to add?"

Azriel seemed to ponder for a moment, his eyes falling on you. His gaze was soft as it ran up your body, stopping for a second on your gloved hands. He cleared his throat before saying, "Keep your guard up. Don't give an opponent a shot at something they could use to their advantage."

You fought the urge to hide your hands again as you felt a blush creep onto your cheeks. You knew it was stupid to be wearing gloves, but you didn't want others to see your scars. What if they didn't want to touch you?

"Right. Let's quit wasting daylight and get to it." Cassian jerked his chin to Nesta. "Pick your opponent, Nes."

Nesta smiled, her eyes twinkling as they landed on you. "Let's see if little miss 'fashionably punctual' has learned anything since joining us for training."

You swore your heart stopped beating for a moment. Of course, you had taken part in some of the training exercises. You could hold a sword, and your endurance had gotten better. But you had never fought before, especially not someone like Nesta. She was a warrior, a Valkyrie. And you were, well... you. A female who is scarred, weak, broken, someone who wasn't even good enough to earn the love of a father.

Nesta's piercing gaze softened as she sensed your hesitation. "Don't worry," she murmured, offering her hand to you. "I'll go easy on you. This is to help you learn."

"Okay," you said with a nod. You took her hand, grateful that she didn't say anything about your gloves. "Let's get this over with."

You and Nesta circled each other, your heart hammering inside of your chest. Her expression was a mask of calm focus, which only seemed to increase your nerves. "Ready?" Nesta asked, her voice even, though there was a hint of something softer in her tone.

You nodded, your throat so dry you were unable to speak.

Nesta moved first, slow and deliberate, giving you a chance to react. "Stay balanced. Keep your guard up," she instructed, watching as you hastily raised your hands. "Good. Now, try to block me."

The first few strikes were controlled, more of a test than anything. Nesta's fists came at you with controlled precision, and you managed to block some of them, though each impact sent a jolt through your arms.

"Not bad," Nesta remarked, her breathing slow and even. You, on the other hand, were fighting for each breath. "But don't just react-anticipate."

You tried to focus, but the combination of nerves and heat from the sun made your movements sluggish. Your hands were starting to sweat in the gloves, and you silently cursed yourself for wearing them. Azriel was right- they were getting in the way. You were so focused on trying to keep them on, and Nesta's precise movements were causing your body to get tired.

Each strike was faster, aiming for your vulnerable spots. Nesta sent a particularly painful jab to your side, which caused you to stumble back. Nesta's eyes widened as she reached a hand out, her fingers grabbing your glove to keep you from falling on your ass.

She grabbed the glove that you had been unable to button earlier, and because of your sweaty hand, the glove slid off, and you fell down hard on your ass.

But the pain and embarrassment of your falling was nothing compared to the feeling of your scarred hand being exposed to the air.

Nesta's eyes landed on the glove in her palm. Slowly, she raised them to your hand, which was now lying limply on the ground, the scars plain to see due to the bright sun. "Are you alright?" she asked, kneeling down, her eyes now on your face. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you that hard."

What? You're not going to say anything about my scars? you wanted to ask, but you stayed silent, your body shaking.

Cassian stepped forward, his broad hand gently clasping your shoulder. "Stand up," he muttered. "If you stay on the ground, your opponent will kill you."

You pushed yourself up, standing on trembling legs. You hid your exposed hand behind your back as you looked at everyone in the training ring. Nesta was still on the ground, her eyes full of concern. Cassian stood next to you, his expression soft. Gwyn and Emerie shared twin expressions of worry and Azriel... He was looking at you carefully, as if you were an animal locked inside of a cage.

You spun on your heels and ran, ignoring Cassian as he called out your name. You sprinted through the House of Wind, not knowing where you were going. You didn't live here, and you were only here because of Nesta's kindness.

What if she didn't want to be your friend anymore?

Hot tears spilled down your cheeks as you pushed open a door. The room appeared to be a sitting room of sorts, with soft chairs, a bookshelf, and a fireplace. You slammed the door closed and leaned against the wall, your breath coming out in rapid pants. You raised your hand up, your eyes looking down at your ruined skin.

Who would want you now? Who would let you touch them or be next to them with skin such as this?

The door opened, and you cowered against the wall, wishing you could just disappear. You opened your mouth to tell Nesta that you weren't in the mood to talk, but you snapped it shut as Azriel stepped into the room.

"Hey," he whispered, in that soft voice like shadows given sound. "I know you probably don't want to talk right now, but I wanted to make sure you were alright." His expression was uncharacteristically soft as he looked at you, and your heart clenched as you recognized the emotion- it was pity.

"You're right," you snapped, pushing yourself off the wall. You might not be able to fight, but you wouldn't cower, not any longer. "I don't want to talk. And I'm fine."

Azriel nodded his head once, his shadows moving frantically around him. "I'm sorry," he said, moving aside to give you access to the door. "I can take you home if you wish. Or I can escort you back to training."

You pondered for a moment, your eyes falling to Azriel's hands. They were at his sides, his fingers relaxed. You walked forward, not knowing what you were doing, as if you were being guided by some unseen force. You gently grasped his wrist with your scarred hand, pausing for a moment in case he wanted to pull away.

But Azriel didn't pull away. He let you raise his hand up, his skin visible to your eyes thanks to the light of the room. You had only seen his hands from a distance, but up close, you could see how bad they were. His skin was rippled and mangled, the scars rough against your fingers. His scars were like yours, perhaps even a little bit worse.

"How do you live with this?" you whispered, your voice breaking as more tears threatened to spill from your eyes. "How do you-" you broke off, unable to finish the sentence.

Azriel raised his free hand, wiping a tear off your cheek. He laid his palm flat against your skin, and you leaned into his touch. "I hate my scars, too," he whispered, his voice still soft. "I hate when people look at them, or when I have to touch someone. I wouldn't say I live with them. But I tolerate them because I have no choice."

You looked up at him through teary eyes. "What happened?"

Azriel's face hardened, his gaze going almost vacant. "My half-brothers thought it would be fun to see what would happen if you mix fire with the quick healing of Illyrians." He paused, his hazel eyes moving down to his hand that was being held by yours. "The warriors were too late to save me."

Your stomach rolled at the thought of Azriel being tortured like that. The fire must have been horrific if his healing gifts had been unable to get rid of them. "I am Beron's daughter," you said, pausing to let Azriel deal with his shock at the information. "He hates me. Blamed me for stealing something, so he taught me a lesson. Nobody came to save me."

Azriel's breath caught in his throat as your words sank in. The room was silent, weighed down by the shared pain between the two of you. His thumb traced the scars on your hand, the touch gentle, as if he was afraid of causing you more hurt.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I had no idea... I knew Beron was cruel, but..." He shook his head, as if words couldn't express the anger and sorrow he felt.

You glanced down at your joined hands, the sight of your scars intertwined with his bringing an odd sense of comfort. "It's in the past now," you murmured, though the words felt hollow. "But it doesn't make it any easier, does it? Knowing that we survived, but still carrying the reminders every day."

Azriel's grip tightened slightly, a silent affirmation that he understood. "No," he admitted softly, "it doesn't. The memories, the scars- they're always there. They never truly heal."

You looked up into his eyes, seeing the haunted depths that mirrored your own. “I used to think that I was alone in this,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “That no one could understand what it was like to carry this...this weight. But seeing your scars, hearing your story... I don’t feel so alone anymore.”

Azriel’s gaze softened, a warmth spreading through the cold that had settled in the room. “You’re not alone,” he assured you, his voice steady. “Not anymore. We’ve both been through hell, and we’re still here. Maybe that means something.”

Despite yourself, you let out a low chuckle. "Maybe it does." You dared to raise his hand to your lips, where you gently pressed a kiss onto his skin. "I don't need the gloves anymore, do I?"

He sucked in a sharp breath as your lips lingered upon his hand. "No. Don't be afraid to show off your hands."

You smiled up at him as you felt a warmth spread through your chest- a warmth that you had never before felt. "Only if you stop being afraid to show off yours." You had seen how Azriel would hide his hands at times, obviously just as insecure as you about his scars.

Azriel chuckled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "It's a deal."

And as you stood there, hand in hand with Azriel, the silence that followed wasn't filled with pain or fear, but with the quiet understanding that neither of you would ever have to face your demons alone again.

general tag list: @quiet-loser @andreperez11 @lilah-asteria

@anarchiii @inkedinshadows @panther-girl-124

@scorpioriesling

[ghosts-bandwagon]

So, could you do task force 141 + König and whomever you’d like, how they would react to you kissing their cheeks as a dare or something? Idk my brain just thought of this

I love this it’s so cute 😭❤️

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

He short circuits honestly

He’s sitting there stuck in place, processing what happened

In the short second your lips made contact with the fabric of his mask, everything in his brain went silent

All the chaos, all the worries, all the voices, everything went silent like coming into the eye of a hurricane, there was peace for a moment

On the outside though? He’s deadpanned 😶

You almost feel like you’re in trouble but then he finally blinks and looks at you, you couldn’t detect any anger or resentment so you beamed at him and went about your merry way

As he’s watching you walk away, that kiss is all he’s thinking about. He’s wondering what it would’ve felt like if he didn’t have the stupid mask on, how soft your lips must be, if it was a little wet or not, he knows the feeling of your lips would be seared there for the rest of his life

He’s thinking about that moment of quiet, that moment of peace, and he’s suddenly questioning himself, almost talking himself up to give it a try, to pursue that peace that you gave him, that peace that he could have with you

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

Don’t think you’re getting away lightly

As soon as your lips made contact with his cheek, his face went red hot and his eyes were glimmering

He looked up at you with a huge grin going from ear to ear

“What’s that for?” He laughed, when you shrugged with a cheeky smile, he melted,

“Dare you to do it again.” He winked,

You stepped in to meet his challenge but before you could even get close, he kissed your cheek instead

Now it’s your turn to be a blushing mess, and Johnny finds that the look suits you quite well

John Price:

He’s been hearing about the date floating around for a while now and brushed it off

At least until you came into his office under the guise of turning in paperwork, when he heard stifled laughter coming from the hallway

You handed him your papers and leaned in to give him a quick peck on the cheek, your lips were so soft as they made contact with his skin, it sent lightning up his spine

He looked at you with disapproval and you felt the cold sweat bead on your forehead

He motions for you to come in close and you do as you’re told, leaning in, bent at the waist, waiting for him to speak. His face was close to your ear, the hairs on his cheek tickling your skin as he leaned in,

“Next time you feel like doing that, don’t hide behind a dare, love.” He sat back with a knowing glint in his eyes, “That’ll be all, sergeant.”

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:

Oof sweetheart, he already knows about the dare that’s been circulating on base, he’s been waiting

And then he sees you walking towards him like the cat that got the cream

He already knows and he’s a little smug about it smh

What isn’t prepared for is how his brain fires on all cylinders the moment your lips pressed against his cheek

It was like a jolt of electricity shot straight through him, like something in him came alive

He’s not one to be rendered speechless too often but he’s dumbstruck

He had a plan of pulling you back in so he could return the kiss but he was stuck in place, slack-jawed with his hand slowly coming to rest on the spot you kissed

He’ll get you back eventually, right now he just needs to process what just happened

König:

Error 404. König not found

He appreciated that you didn’t lift his hood so you could kiss him but in that moment he wished it wasn’t there

He felt the warmth of your skin through the fabric and he mourned not feeling the soft skin of your lips against his cheek

It felt like going outside and feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin, breathing the fresh spring air and sitting on a blanket in the park

He started imagining you there, sitting in the park among the flowers, your eyes closed in bliss as you take in the warmth of the sun and breathing the freshness of the air

He wasn’t on an army base in god knows where, he was sitting there in that park with you, mesmerized by your smile, holding your hand in his

He was snapped back to reality when you waved your hand in his face, apologies pouring from your lips

He can barely process the words as he leans in and repeats the action, pressing his clothed lips against your cheek

He can’t help the satisfaction when he sees you short circuiting as much as he was

[sant-riley]

[Random Task force 141 × gen z! member headcanons]

A/N: Reader goes by the codename Teddy in my writing! Along with she/her pronouns :) I am also extremely biased with Ghost so her main pairing is more towards with him compared to the others <3. I know absolutely nothing about the military so this is not accurate I am so sorry💀.

CWs: Dark Humor, Age gaps, Simping, crude humor, cursing. (not sure what else but lmk!)

Chances are, you're the youngest in the entirety of Task Force 141. Just a good couple of years younger than Gaz.

When Laswell brought her in to meet the group, they couldn't help but stare at her in confusion. A tiny girl who couldn't have been older than any of them. Soap couldn't help but chuckle while Ghost nudged him in the side to shut him up.

"This is your new rookie on the team, her callsign is Teddy. Treat her well."

All the men nodded, watching the younger woman shyly smile and wave towards them.

First they realized that her humor was, in Ghost's words, fucked.

Any minor inconvenience had her saying she wanted to be hit by a car or some type of bodily harm, Price quickly whirling around with eyes widened. "Now, I don't think that warranted that kind of response, don't you think?" "Oh it definitely did, Captain." And she'd walk away without another word.

He swears he gets gray hairs from everytime you make casual talk of you dying. He actively tells the others to check on you bc he genuinely don't know if you're serious or not.

Ghost is not up to date with shit, man uses no social medias oncesoever so everything she spouts is wildly out of pocket. References to basic things like tiktok, Twitter, Instagram? He just silently stares at you like you're on drugs. You can't really use your personal phone on base but you try your best to explain memes to him. He sighs and rubs his forehead with a groan of "I'm too old for this shit, teds." "Oh come on! You have to at LEAST know the meme about the marines eating crayons!" "What the fuck are you on about?

The only ones who know vaguely what the fuck you're on about sometimes are Gaz and Soap, despite them still being a few years older.

Granted, they are not caught up with everything but they actively make it a point on leave to try and be up to date bc of you and your mannerisms. Plus it makes you happy when they fire back a quote they learned.

Can yall imagine Soap on tiktok, what random shit he'd have on his fyp bc he doesn't know how the algorithm works 😭.

Teddy has made every single one of them a personal playlist when she does have her phone, Soap once caught her adding songs and hasn't stopped teasing her since. Price and Ghost pretend not to care and barks at Soap to leave her alone but they're equally curious. Ghost contemplates stealing her phone to see it.

Doesn't matter how serious or dark their job may be, you simp for fictional characters, loudly. Price has learned to tune it out, Ghost although slightly jealous, finds it endearing, Gaz and Soap indulge you and will actively ask about why you like the characters you do and how much you love them bc they like to see you excited. It's a nice feeling when they're always in life or death missions.

You're the smallest one in here okay, everyone can easily throw you without batting an eye so they all take turns training you! They all despite knowing you can take care of yourself, would still like to teach you all they know so should you come against a taller/stronger opponent, you'll be okay.

You are the most protected person in the entire squad, esp when going out for drinks, Ghost will put you in the middle between him and Price and basically make a wall of muscle around you. He says he doesn't care and that he just doesn't want to be pestered by creepy people coming up to you but he will literally stare down any man or woman who even tries. He is the creepy one in everyone else's scenario. Soap just laughs and tosses back his drink.

They all notice your ticks and tells, seeing your leg start to shake when you're anxious, when you start cracking your fingers when you're restless, how you will avoid eye contact at any cost. They start to find ways to soothe you in their own ways. Price will give you a pat on your shoulder, sending you a smile.

Gaz nudges you with his body to take your attention off the situation, or he'll simply start asking you random dumbass questions just to see your face change.

Soap will, if he has gotten permission before, just pick you up and throw you over his shoulder, running around with you while you scream for him to let you go. Is also not against tickling you straight up to get you to smile.

Ghost tried to be as subtle as he can be. If yall are sitting close to each other, he'll make sure some part of his body is gently pressed against yours. Whether it be his foot, thigh, hand, some part of him will ground you. You try and reassure him that you know he doesn't care for personal touch but he just says to shut up.

Meeting Graves was a trip, for everyone involved besides you and Grave. Absolutely having no control over calling him a irl Fix it Felix. You were on Graves shitlist and honestly you wouldn't be surprised he betrayed yall for that one comment bc of how angry it made him.

Constantly being told to be quiet, but you cannot help it and will make little quips over comms. Ghost takes after you and starts to say horrible "dad" jokes that make you choke trying to hold back. Soap hates both of you and calls you unfunny.

They realize you're impulsive, especially when you show the amount of tattoos you have.

"I joined the military to fund my tattoo addiction." "You know what? That's not even a surprise."

Going home on leave is always a bitter experience, you never look excited to go home. So one of the guys (usually ghost) will offer you to come with them. It helps 3/4 all live somewhere in England so it's easy to see them/ take trips to their place.

They're all attached despite knowing better. They can't help it and they know they care for you so much more than other force members.

Ghost and Soap bristle when Alejandro makes a mention that he'd offer you a spot in his team, impressed with how you can take opponents twice your size.

"¿Te interesaría quedarte en México?"

"The Hell she will."

-

If you'd like to be tagged in future works, please comment under my rules that are pinned to my blog!

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Triple D.

Perlude

“We need assistance!”

Shouted the elite Navy SEAL into his earpiece. He was taking cover behind a low, nearly destroyed concrete wall to avoid the many bullets flying at him and his small task force. They’ve been in Aleppo, Syria for a little over two weeks and each day becomes increasingly violent. Senior Chief Petty Officer, John Stevens–Kelly, with his team of fellow SEALS are outnumbered by the Russian Military.

“Chief, this is base! We’re doing all we can to find you some backup! With the Marines and the Army being dispatched throughout Sudan and Iraq, we’re spread a bit thin! We will do our best to send assistance!”

Lieutenant Commander Karen Greer, is trapped in an abandoned building across from them and without proper backup, John Stevens–Kelly can’t get to her to see if she’s alive. Dust and debris crowded his vision and one by one he watched in horror as his men fell to their knees and died. It was supposed to be an easy escape and rescue of a CIA operative who was taken hostage by a suspected pro-Assad paramilitary group. It turned out to be the Russian Military.

“Damnit,” John fired rounds from his AK47 that was nearly out of bullets, “Guys, we’re on our own! Watch your six and try to keep out of the fire!”

A few SEALS tossed grenades to buy them some time as they moved toward the abandoned building. Structures were exploding and coming down on them and hostiles were coming in fast. If the base doesn’t send anyone, they are all dead. The mission was a disaster from the beginning. All they had to do was collect the hostage, get some intel, and get the hell out. A few days stretched into two weeks.

“Chief?! We’ve got you covered! They’re dropping in now!”

John hid himself behind a brick wall and spoke into his earpiece.

“Who’s dropping in?!” John replied firmly.

Dirt swirled like a small tornado when two helicopters swooped down and soldiers wearing all black slid down from a rope with guns blazing and ninja–like abilities. The Russians didn’t stand a chance. One-by-one they were taken out by the unknown soldiers. There was one soldier that stood out above the others and moved as if he were bulletproof.

John took that opportunity to run as fast as he could to the abandoned building to find Lieutenant Commander Karen Greer. He ditched the AK47 for a pistol and when he finally crossed over into the building, Russian troops jumped out of their hiding place and John took them out immediately. He could see the soldiers dressed in black enter and spread out in search. One soldier, however, took his place in front of John. He removed his all black balaclava and helmet, revealing himself to John.

“Killmonger.” John says, a slow laugh echoing from his mouth, “Nigga, where have you been?! You show up now?!”

Erik Stevens, a former United States Navy SEAL who was eventually assigned to a Ghost Unit for the Military, stood before his twin brother after two months of no contact.

“You know we work off the grid, bro. Deeper shit than rescuing some crooked ass CIA officials. Glad to see you’re still breathing.”

“Glad to see you’re not dead in a fuckin’ ditch somewhere, E. What the hell have you been up to?”

“The less you know, the better,” Erik handed John a gun, “Let’s make this shit speedy before more Spetsnaz show up.”

The twins together were the strongest. John missed the days when he worked alongside his brother, but Erik grew tired of the straight arrow. He wanted to get his hands dirty in ways John couldn’t agree with. Erik becoming a mercenary formed a wedge between them for a while, especially because John didn’t enjoy killing for sport like his twin. Erik was ruthless and cynical, whereas John only showed that side of him in the line of duty. There were plenty of times where John and Erik bumped heads.

The brothers made their way deeper into the abandoned building and finally discovered Lieutenant Commander Karen Greer and the CIA Operative hiding in a small room. The CIA Operative had a gunshot wound to his left thigh. Relief washed over Karen Greer’s face when she spotted John. She leaped up into his arms and hugged him tightly.

“Aight, save the reunion for later! We gotta go!” Erik shouted aggressively.

Erik carefully pulled the CIA Operative up and they quickly made their way towards the helicopter. Karen Greer bit her tongue while following them out of the room. She couldn’t stand Erik, and it was partly due to the fact that he was the reason things never worked out between John and her. She disliked the fact that John defended his hot-headed brother, even when he was wrong. She’d craved John’s love but deep down she knew it would never be the same.

Back outside, they succeeded with making it out alive and the helicopter took off. Karen Greer attended to The CIA Operative’s wound by creating a tourniquet to stop the bleeding. John made eye contact with his brother and he reached his hand out to clasp Erik’s firmly. Karen Greer watched the interaction with a neutral expression. It was silent the entire ride to base. Killmonger and his team remained on the helicopter while the few remaining SEALS, Karen Greer, and John Stevens–Kelly helped the CIA Operative to base.

__________

One Week Later:

Lagos, Nigeria was where John went to meet with his twin brother. It’s been a week since they’d seen each other and it would be good to catch up. John made his way into a striking waterfront home within a gated community wearing a v-neck, long-sleeve, khaki tunic with matching pants. He removed his shades and began pacing the grand entryway with curiosity.

John took a chance and stepped forward, eyes moving from left to right. Before him was a double, rounded staircase and to his left was a large study and to his right was a family room. John entered the family room and placed his duffel bag on the floor next to an end table with a large African head statue crafted from a tree trunk.

“Pay him handsomely. He deserves it…”

John spotted a portly, Nigerian man with a big grin wearing a traditional Nigerian caftan in all white with colorful embroidery and matching white pants. Killmonger stood before him at a towering height of 6’4 wearing a fitted black T-shirt with dark camouflage pants and black boots. He shook the man’s hand firmly with a slight smirk before turning his dark gaze onto a butler that held out a recondite sepia leather duffle bag for him to take.

“We will do business again, Killmonger. In the meantime, Make you enjoy your stay in Lagos…”

John watched the man and his servant leave the magnificent home. Killmonger’s heavy hand clasped John’s shoulder and he turned towards his identical twin abruptly.

“Didn't think you’d actually show up, bruh. Good to see you J.”

They hugged each other tightly before letting go.

“Whose house are we in?” John questioned.

“Don’t worry about all that. Just know it’s ours for a few days. You hungry? Want something to eat? Drink?”

John didn’t automatically respond to Erik. He was being hyper vigilant. His eyes scanned every nook and cranny of that enormous estate.

“My bag—”

“John. Relax. It’s just me and you here. No more unorganized missions and Karen’s mess. You get to put all that shit behind you and unwind. When was the last time you had that, bro? And please don’t tell me that old story about us drag racing on the Los Angeles River. That shit happened when we were eighteen.”

Erik thrust a glass filled with amber liquid into John’s hand. John was the definition of the ‘perfect soldier’. Loyal, noble, and dependable on top of being a tactician and strategist. When he’s in the war zone, he’s ruthless. That part of his life has always been hard to relax from. Even when it comes down to relationships. He’d always been afraid to grow with a woman because of what he does for a living. Too many times he’s witnessed fellow SEALS slaughtered in their own homes.

Unbeknownst to his crazy brother, John would love to have a companion. Someone he could come to whenever he made it home safely. Whether it be a serious commitment or strictly physical. He could never have that with Karen no matter how hard he tried. He craved pillow talks, massages, the smell of a woman’s perfume. So many things. Erik was right, he needed to decompress. John drank the entire contents of the glass, realizing it to be whiskey.

“Fuck it. You’re right. What’s the move?”

Erik rubbed his hands together like the mastermind he is.

“Aight, figured we could get some food, meet up with some ladies, and hit the town. I know some good spots here in Lagos. Tomorrow we can take a yacht out and smoke some cigars. Just live it up, you know?”

John smirked, “Sounds all good to me. What ladies? Hopefully nobody you touched. We all know what happened back in college. Sydney…”

“Ahhhh…Sydney. She was…” Erik kissed his fingers, “Scrumptious. You ain’t have no problems with me hittin’ that!”

They walked out towards the back of the home and took a seat near the inground pool. Erik took a small sip from his glass before sitting it on the ground beside him to remove his boots. John lounged back and placed his shades over his eyes.

“So, now you’re silent?” Erik teased.

“I’m silent because you love to leave out certain details. I was falling DEEP for that girl. Her excuse was she couldn’t tell us apart.”

“Both of us had the same cut, J! Like I told you before, I didn’t know. Anyway, she’s married with a son or some shit… good for her.”

John chuckled, “It’s been too long for me. So long that I’ve become picky. I don’t want just any woman.”

Nigga,” Erik scuffs, “You serious? It’s been three months for me. I miss the sex. I miss giving and receiving. Shit…I got a job in a week and this job gotta be one of the worst and I mean my whole fuckin’ chest will be covered in scars by the time I come back home to the Bay—you think I’m fuckin’ lying? I need this. I wanna be pissy drunk in a bed full of women before I touch down in Vietnam.”

John took his shades off to look at Erik.

“You scarring again? Thought you said that shit was over?”

“I guess old habits don’t die hard,” Erik shrugged, “I enjoy it.

John squinted, “You enjoy having that reminder on your body? You’re fucking crazy…”

“Says the nigga that ain’t never giving this life up. You live for this shit too, J. Don’t act like me and you are any different. Just because I do shit dirty doesn't mean you ain’t getting a thrill out of it. See, ever since you became best buddies with Sam Wilson you've been acting brand new.”

“Your thrill and my thrill are not the same, E. And what’s wrong with Sam? He’s cool peoples. Don’t get me wrong. I love what I do. But…it’s a job for me. For you, it’s a game. You have this killer instinct. Example,” John sat up, “You remember what happened in Iraq? What you did to that family? Torturing? That shit was…that was brutal.”

“Yeah…I remember. I also remember very clearly that they were the enemy. I also remember losing friends to those enemies. When I get behind that heat,” Erik made a gesture with his fingers to mimic a gun, “I don’t care who I’m aiming at. If it’s meant for you, it’s meant for you.”

“…Wild,” John stood up and stretched, “I’m getting some more to drink…”

“Fill me up!” Erik held his glass out, “And bring the whole bottle. We gotta get ready in another hour to head out.”

“Damn, I just got here,” John shakes his head.

“The pussy don’t wait for no one!” Erik shouted after his brother.

_____________

“This is…?”

“I’m Malaika.”

“Oh yeah! Malaika. Good to see you again, sweetheart.”

Erik nudged John while they were seated in Silverfox; a luxury strip club on Victoria Island in Lagos. John perked up and gave his twin brother a sideways glance before reaching out his hand to greet Malaika. Her soft, graceful hand within his calloused one felt warm and friendly. John took the time to admire Malaika. She has some outstanding characteristics that make her irresistible. Among them all, her rich, dark skin with big, dark brown eyes stood out to him the most. Skin so lovely and smooth. She had a curvy figure with a tall stature that made him wonder if she were a model. She wore her hair in straight-back stitch braids that hung down to her butt and a form-fitting, cyan-blue dress with silver stiletto sandals.

“How you doin’ I’m John.”

“Hi, John,” Malaika’s eyes scanned his body, “First time in Lagos?”

“It is, yeah.” John responded.

Malaika took a seat next to John with her drink in hand trying to spark conversation. Her best friend, Zola, sat with Erik on the opposite end of the sofa on his lap. Malaika was used to seeing her best friend being all over Erik. She was his ‘girl’ whenever he touched down in Lagos. Zola’s coarse, voluminous Afro shielded Erik’s face while she leaned in to give him a kiss on his plump lips. Erik had a handful of her bubble booty that stood out in her denim shorts. When she faced forward again, she caught eyes with John and waved. Zola was just as gorgeous with her toasty-brown skin and mahogany eyes. Her sheer-black halter top gave a brazen view of her pierced nipples.

“How do you like it so far?” Malaika asked.

“It’s a vibe. Definitely into it.”

John reached for his drink and Malaika’s eyes tracked it.

“What’s in your cup?”

“STARR Rum. I’m a rum kind of guy. You?”

Malaika twirled the last remnants of her drink around, “It’s some Patron mix the bartender did for me. I don’t really like it.”

She pouted her lip before sitting her cup down on the low table in front of them.

“We still got rum left in the bottle. I can pour you some…”

John uncapped the bottle and proceeded to fill Malaika’s cup. Meanwhile, Zola and Erik are watching the various women twirl and do tricks on the pole. They had already thrown cash and some of it littered the floor of their section.

“What do you do if you don’t mind me asking?”

John angled his body to face Malaika while relaxing back against the lounge sofa.

“I’m a Navy SEAL.”

“Hmm,” Malaika roamed John’s body with her sultry eyes, “Is it dangerous?”

John chuckles. In his mind, he was saying what he really thought but he’d just met Malaika so he didn’t want to give off bad vibes. Of course being a SEAL is dangerous.

“It’s considered one of the most dangerous military occupations. Combat operations…hazardous training…specialized missions…it’s risky. You gotta be prepared for that.”

“Wow. I bet you’ve seen a lot.”

John nodded his head, “I have. More than I’d like to discuss,” John cleared his throat, “Tell me a little bit about Malaika.”

Malaika tucked her chin bashfully, “I’m in medical school currently. Not much of a social life at the moment but it’s worth it.”

John’s unruly brows shot up with interest, “that’s dope. Educated and gorgeous…I like that.”

Zola sipped her drink while watching John and Malaika get to know each other. She held a tiny smirk on her face. Erik was too busy making his dick jump against her ass. Zola looked down at him over her shoulder as best as she could with all the hair she had.

“You need to cut it out, Killmonger. Calm that big dick down…”

“I’ll calm it down when you get that phat ass up off my lap, girl.” Erik retorted.

“So it’s my fault? Teh,” Zola rolled her eyes, “Not my fault you can’t control yourself.”

“Here we go,” Erik threw his head back and laughed, “Zola…stop acting tough. Because we both know that I’ll put your ass through the mattress and have you screaming big daddy at the top of your lungs. Stop it.”

“Who did you fuck in Cuba?”

Erik’s eyes went round at her outlandish question.

“Zo, are you serious?”

“Yes, I am. I want to know.”

“I thought you ain’t care who I fuck when I’m away?”

“I haven’t seen you in months and you’ve been giving this big dick to some other bitch and I wanna know…”

A chuckle could be heard from across the table and Erik peeked over to see John and Malaika tittering into their cups.

“Help me out, bro,” Erik gave John a pleading look.

“I wish I could, E. I haven’t seen you in months either.” John bantered.

Erik put his middle finger up at his twin. John simply laughed. He knew his brother all too well. He was definitely fucking some women in Cuba. He’d caught his brother in many nefarious situations with women. Some of which almost got them killed. Erik’s sex drive had to be sated even through war. John had control for some time because he’d been in a long-term relationship with a high school sweetheart at one point before dating Karen on and off for three years.

“Forget all that. I’m here right now with you. Let’s make the most of this shit before I’m gone again.” Erik said with finality.

Zola simply rolled her eyes in response. Erik’s hands caressing her frame as he stared her down with an unwavering gaze while whispering to her seemed to melt her jealous core. She couldn’t fight the urge to blush when Erik’s hand palmed her ass and gripped it tight and possessively.

“You two are so different,” Malaika whispered to John, “you’re very laid back and he’s very outspoken.”

“Believe it or not, we play off of each other well,” John replied, “My silence is just me being observant for the most part.”

“You seem shy.”

John licked his lips and cracked a dimpled smile, “I’m not. I promise you.”

Malaika giggles.

“You definitely are though,” John elevated a single brow and squinted at her, “You’ve been avoiding eye contact with me.”

Malaika opened her mouth to speak but she quickly realized he was correct.

“It’s not that I’m shy…you’re just fine as hell.”

She turned and crossed one leg over the other, causing her hip to poke out. John fixated his lustful gaze on her generous curves. The colorful luminance bouncing around the club against her dark skin had him salivating for a taste. It’s been too long since he’d had some good pussy. And Malaika could be just the girl to soak his dick.

“Thank you, gorgeous,” John scooted closer to her, “But don’t let that intimidate you. I love eye contact. And the way you walked in here tonight showed me you have a lot of confidence,” John took a chance and placed his hand over her knee and started stroking it with his thumb, “That’s a huge turn on for me.”

“Mm, oh yeah? What else turns you on?”

Malaika traced John’s thin, gold chain with her gemstone-covered acrylic nail.

“A woman that knows what she wants…isn’t afraid to express it and show it…release her inhibitions.”

“Mmm…”

John’s words had Malaika yoked up by the pussy. Her breathing changed, her eyes went low, her nipples hardened, and she couldn’t keep her hands off of John. She ran her hand down his chest and down his thigh. John’s dick bricked-up so fast he didn’t see it coming. She was stroking his thigh while his dick expanded in his pants.

“Ayo, J!”

John looked up to see a woman so fine he almost groaned. A pole dancer with fat titties, thunder thighs, and a top-shelf ass started showing out in the section. The red-hot one-piece with a large keyhole cutout that left little to the imagination and a pair of stunning stockings attached to the bodice barely covered her body. John had never seen so much ass in his life.

“Throw that shit, baby!” Zola shouted while throwing hundreds.

Erik stood up and started making it rain over her. John grabbed a stack and flicked it towards her direction. She kept popping that ass like she didn’t own a vertebrae. Malaika clapped her hands in time to the bounce of the dancer’s cheeks.

“Damn, ma! Show out!” Erik yelled. L

“Aye!” Malaika said loudly.

“That ass is crazy,” John shook his head.

When she finished dancing, she collected her money and walked off as if she didn’t just render everyone speechless.

______________________

They were lucky to make it back safely to the mansion in one piece with the way Erik was driving his yellow Lotus Emira V6. The ladies took off their five-inch heels at the door and John had to bend down and help Malaika because she couldn’t keep her balance from all the rum she drank. Erik took off his embroidered crochet shirt that matched his shorts and threw it over the banister. His locs fell into his eyes at that point from the wind when he was driving.

“Are we still getting in the jacuzzi?” Zola asked.

“Hell yeah. You got an extra bikini for Malaika?”

“I do. Let me go get it,” Zola climbed the stairs while gripping the banister.

Erik followed her and he caught up with her to slap her on the ass.

“You okay?” John had a tight hold on Malaika’s waist so she wouldn’t fall.

Malaika drunkenly giggled, “I’m good. Let's change.”

John grasped Malaika’s hand and they climbed one side of the staircase. When they got to the second landing, John led Malaika down the hall to the room he’s in during his stay. John pushed open the double doors to a large room with a balcony that oversees the yard and beyond. John grabbed his bag to find his swim shorts while Malaika started taking off her dress. John paused to watch her. She was standing before him in a strapless, nude bra and matching thong. Malaika caught him staring and gave him a seductive smirk.

“This will be all yours tonight,” She crawled over to him on the bed like a feline, “All yours…”

John’s eyes followed her movements until she reached her destination and pressed her sweet lips against his. The kiss felt damn good. John could kiss for long periods. He looked from her lips to her eyes and then he closed the space between them and his lips were on hers again. Malaika sat up on her knees and started unbuttoning John’s boxy-fit, black top. She smoothed the fabric from his shoulders and broke the kiss to see his body.

“Fuck, you’re body is…mmm…Abeg, come fuck my pussy…”

Malaika’s hand found its way between John’s legs and she squeezed his stiff dick. John grunted against her lips.

“You’re so sexy, John…”

She was hungry for attention. Malaika started fumbling with his black pants to free his third leg. John paused her horny pursuit with a gentle grasp of her wrist.

“Protection.”

Malaika gave John a slight pout. John slipped away to his bag and opened a small pocket to grab a SKYN elite large condom. He made his way back over to her and Malaika proceeded to take off her bra. John stopped her again and then he tilted her chin up to make her stare directly in his eyes.

“Let me,” John reached around her and unhooked her bra.

His eyes admired the slope of her well-endowed breasts with large, brown areolas and small nipples. John didn’t waste time crouching down to suck on each erect nipple just so he could taste her luscious, dark skin. Malaika thrust her chest out and tried her best to watch John but the way he looked her in the eyes was too much for her to handle.

“Fuck, John…just like that…” Malaika moaned.

She tasted just as good as she looked. John was drooling. The door to the room opened and in walked Zola wearing a sage green bikini with her hair styled in a bun to avoid getting wet. John popped Malaika’s left titty out his mouth and sat up quickly. Zola and her bouncy, glistening cleavage crawled onto the bed and she held out a royal blue bikini for Malaika to wear.

“Here, bitch! Hurry up!”

Malaika sat up and Zola took it upon herself to remove Malaika’s thong. John’s eyes stared between Malaika’s thighs at her semi-hairy pussy. Erik approached the door with a bottle of amber liquor in his hand, drinking straight from the rim. He had on a pair of black and white striped swim shorts. Malaika slipped on her bikini bottoms while Zola helped with her bikini top. John’s dick wouldn’t go soft and he really wanted to continue where they left off but Zola was dragging Malaika out of the room.

“You still ain’t ready, nigga?! Did we fuck up a moment?”

“Whatchu think?” John replied sarcastically.

He snatched up his red swim shorts.

“Can I get some privacy?”

Erik walked away and took his laughter with him.

After John got dressed, he made his way out to the jacuzzi. When he got there, Erik was seated on the edge of the jacuzzi with his feet in the water that bubbled up like a witches brew. Zola and Malaika were splashing each other and shrieking. John lowered himself into the jacuzzi and wrapped his arms around Malaika’s waist, pulling her towards him. He started peppering kisses down her slender neck. Zola placed herself between Erik’s legs and he fed her some liquor straight from the bottle. Some of it dribbled down her chin. Erik sank into the water and wrapped his hand around her bun, extending her neck so he could like and suck on her neck.

Malaika’s eyes couldn’t stray away from Erik’s broad, muscular back littered with tiny, raised scars. John noticed that she was staring and Malaika tried to play it off by kissing his cheek. John wasn’t surprised, Erik’s scars drew a lot of attention. And it made you question what type of person would do something like that over and over.

“I noticed you don’t have any scars…”

“…I have a few. We started them together. I just didn’t have the desire to continue…”

Malaika turned to face him, “Can I see them?”

John took Malaika’s right hand and brought it to his right side. Her fingertips grazed three small raised bumps.

“What made you stop?” Malaika stared up at John with curiosity.

John removed her hand and leaned in to give her tongue. That seemed to distract her. John wanted to focus on the sex and the good times. As beautiful as Malaika is, he knew what it would be between them. She didn’t need to know about that.

“You kiss like…I no get! I no get…”

Zola had her legs wrapped around Erik’s waist as she watched John and Malaika kiss over his shoulder.

“How come you never brought John around before?”

Erik pulled back to look at her. He scrunched his face at her question.

“Wetin? I mean…you’re identical twins. I’ve never seen twins so separated…”

Erik cocked his head to the side, “John has his own thing and so do I. That doesn’t mean we’re not close.”

“But—”

“Zo, you know you’re ruining the mood right? Look,” Erik points to John and Malaika, “Instead of you worrying about me and my brother's bond, you could be worrying about this big dick you missed so much.”

Erik lets Zola down and he climbs out of the Jacuzzi. He motions for her to come to him and he lifts her out of the water. Erik picks her up bridal style and Zola squeals. Malaika and John were too busy swapping spit to care.

____________________________

Zola missed his big dick alright.

That slight curvature to the left with the perfect amount of width-to-length ratio that would have you in the falsetto was back in Lagos after five long months. Despite Zola wanting to keep Erik all for herself, he’s a side dude. Zola is married and from what Erik knows, unhappy. They don’t talk about her marriage whenever they link. That’s Zola’s rule.

Her husband couldn’t fuck like Erik could. Despite her famine, Zola enjoyed the feeling of his fat dick sinking into her creamy center like it was the first time. Zola arched her back and took that long dick like a champ on the edge of the bed. Her wild, kinky fro shielded her face and she gripped on the bed as best as she could.

“I thought you said you liked big toys, Zo?!”

He pounded her pussy at different angles and different strokes to make her feel it. Zola had chills all over her body. His 6’4, 225 lb frame towering over her from behind could be seen in the reflection on the ceiling mirror. She looked back at him with tears in her eyes and nothing but cries escaping her mouth.

“Comot from dia…oooh…I can’t take it…Abeg, big daddy!”

Erik’s response to that was more strokes. His balls slapped her clit and her body convulsed. He popped her on the ass and that triggered her to cum hard on his condom-covered dick.

“Come up off this pussy, bitch? Huh? I thought I told you to take this fuckin’ dick? Huh?”

“Na so,” Zola replied weakly.

“Don’t play with me, Zo. I know how to get you…”

Erik slipped out and Zola released a heavy squirt. His dick and that curve was pressed against her spot on purpose to make her do that. Erik used his thumb to rub on her clit from the back causing more to release. She was a quivering mess in a puddle of her own release. Erik positioned Zola on her back and locked her legs with her knees pinned by her ears. Erik’s dick sank back inside of her and she almost lost it again.

“Fuck! Oh fuck…”

Zola gasped. Erik fucked her with a roll of his hips. He watched her face contorted in many different ways while grunting and biting his lip.

“Pussy creamy, you hear all that? Damn, girl…”

“Oh!”

“You lookin’ at this? Hm?”

Zola’s eyes looked down and all she could see was his big dick going in and out of her. He hit her spot so good she couldn’t keep still.

“Zola, how deep this pussy go? Deep enough for daddy?”

She could only nod and tremble. That bottom lip would not stop quivering. Staring up into his onyx eyes that were shielded by his locs, Zola watched as he cracked a smile.

“Right there…oh my god I’m cumming—”

Erik slowly pulled out and his dick sat on top of her waxed pussy lips as he released into the condom.

“Fuuuck. That pussy good, Zo. So good, baby…”

Erik coaxed Zola into a tongue kiss. She gripped his chin and he rubbed her pussy.

“You wish you could have me every night?”

Zola’s eyes welled up with tears. They weren’t sad tears. The definition of dickmatized was Zola. She knew that as soon as Erik left, it would be a long while before he returned.

“I’m on top now,” Zola sat up, “I want to feel that dick from another angle, daddy…”

Erik removed the old condom and grabbed a new one.

“You can ride it all you want, girl.”

Erik could recall sleepless nights filled with multiple sessions with Zola. Erik had hoes in different area codes but one thing about Zola, she could take dick well. And she was his best eater thus far. Zola climbed on top of Erik and got up on her feet to bounce. She lined his dick up with her opening and lowered herself. Zola gripped Erik’s shoulders and started bouncing.

“Unh! I love the way it feels going up inside of me!”

“I know, you got my nuts hurting, fuck!”

That ass collided with his balls each time she came down.

“DAT’S IT…fuck this dick…ride this shit so good…just like that…Suck the nut out this dick with them pussy lips…pussy hella tight…take this nut like you tryna get a baby…”

Zola moaned loudly and she fell to her knees on top of Erik. Her walls gripped his dick with tight pulses. Erik’s hips jerked and he groaned while painting the inside of the condom milky-white.

_____________________

While Zola and Erik were busy, John and Malaika made their way back to the room. Their wet swimwear resided on the bathroom floor and Malaika was on her back in a flash. John was leaning over her body, kissing down her neck. His dick throbbed against her inner thigh the more his lips moved closer to her breasts. Malaika was trying to steal peeks at his dick. It felt heavy against her thigh, but did it match the sensation? She could only hope so.

Malaika and her hairy pussy were begging for attention. She cradled the back of his head while his lips went from nipple-to-nipple. John’s lips tugging on her nipples made her clit pulsate. This man was teasing her and she couldn’t take it. Malaika pushed him so that he would sit up. John lifted to his knees and Malaika anxiously lifted to admire his dick.

She blinked slowly at what would be the prettiest dick she’d ever seen. It had a slight curve to it, which was new for her because she’d never taken dick like that. From first glance, she flinched because of how intimidating his dick looked. Prominent veins, wide tip, girthy, and at least 8 ½ inches. John startled her by caressing her bottom lip with his thumb. Malaika’s eyes met his. He had this hungry look in his eyes. She liked that a lot. Very primal.

“You want it? Come get it…”

Malaika found herself on her knees. John stood up and Malaika wrapped a hand around his shaft. She bounced it in her palm and realized how heavy it was. Her stomach clenched. She was going to fuck all this dick?

“Malaika.”

She opened up and wrapped her lips around him and started sucking. A longing sigh escaped his mouth. It was as if he’d forgotten how good it felt to have his dick sucked.

“Mhm…mhm…good girl…”

He gently strokes her chin with his thumb. Malaika sucked as much as she could.

“Damn…I needed this…”

John shut his eyes and drew his bottom lip into his mouth. Malaika’s loud slurping filled the expansive room.

“You like that shit?”

Malaika bobbed her head. He even tasted good. She slurped and John had a tight grip on her shoulders and he started bucking his hips. Malaika did her best to relax her throat. Spit trickled down the sides of her mouth continuously. John’s tongue swiped his bottom lip and his eyebrows knitted together. He was close. Malaika could tell because he was swelling in her mouth to the point that her jaws were sore.

“I’m finna nut…ughhhhh—”

Malaika’s pussy ached to be fucked when the first taste of cum from his beautiful balls hit her tongue. She had to moan herself. The more she jerked, cum painted her tongue. John watched with low eyes and parted lips. When she finished, John lifted her to her feet and instructed her to get on her back and spread her thighs. She grabbed him by the dick impatiently and John had to grab the condom to roll it on.

“Slow down, mamas…”

Malaika spread her pussy lips, “I should have shaved—”

She wasn’t prepared for that intrusion. Malaika cried out so loud her voice bounced off the walls. John didn’t care about some hair. He had some himself. He wanted—NEEDED to be inside of her. He had his hands on her hips while his big dick pumped her. With each thrust, Malaika would whimper. Silent but deadly. He could fuck some pussy up.

“John! Oh my god…”

He was swimming in her pussy. The wetness seemed to overflow the more he fucked her.

“Mhm…”

His chain in her face and the scent of sandalwood on his skin stimulated her senses. Malaika was going to cum hard. Whenever she looked up into his eyes, stroked the back of his head, and said his name, he would just stare back with this neutral expression. That was dangerous. It meant he KNEW his dick was lethal.

“Oooh, here it comes, YES—”

“Good girl…cum for me…”

Malaika spasmed beneath John. He kissed her temple and then he picked her up, walking Malaika over to the dresser. He sat her down on the dresser and without a word he hooked her left knee over his arm while using his right hand to line his dick up again and before she knew it he was back inside. Both of her knees over his arms, John thrust in and out of her. Malaika locked eyes with him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

“I gotchu baby…”

“Yeah?”

He was fucking her so good Malaika couldn’t believe it. Her rich, dark skin glistened with sweat and so did his russet skin. John watched as his dick went in and out with a bite of his lip. He lifted Malaika completely off of the dresser and bounced her on his dick.

“John! John! John!”

Her cries were beautiful. John felt that sensation.

“Shit, I’m cumin’—”

John gave Malaika two more thrusts before he erupted into the condom.

_____________________

Time was lost to them as they slept in a pool of their own secretions. The silence that surrounded them in the darkness of that room alerted John to a ruckus. His ears could pick up the faintest of noises. John slowly sat up in bed, rubbing his left eye with the back of his hand. He was still naked with no desire to get dressed in case Malaika wanted to go another round.

John glanced down at the sleeping beauty before looking towards the door. He gently pulled the sheets back and climbed out of bed to grab a pair of shorts and a white beater. When he finished getting dressed, out of habit John grabbed a black pistol with a long barrel and a slightly lighter trigger pull for ultimate precision. He approached the door and carefully twisted one of the handles to open it.

The hallway was pitch black. John entered the hall, eyes moving from left to right, making his way towards his brother's room. When he approached Erik’s door, John tried to push it open but he was met with the muzzle of a silver, chrome plated Glock. Erik was on the other end. His hard, menacing expression relaxed when he realized it was John.

“You heard something too.” Erik whispered.

“Yeah,” John motioned for Erik to follow him, “it came from this way…”

The twin brothers stealthily moved towards the top of the stairs. When they got there, John spotted what looked like a militant. He didn’t think twice before pulling the trigger. They fell to their knees and as soon as they did, more shots rang out causing John and Erik to take cover.

“What the fuck?!” Erik pressed his back against a wall.

He could hear footsteps drawing closer so Erik jumped out and fired his pistol, the bullets connecting with the intruders head. John covered his brother by aiming his shots over the banister. He hit one in the chest and the other in the leg. They rushed down the stairs two at a time and broke out into combat, disarming whoever came at them.

“Argh!”

John dragged one of them away while Erik had his knee in the back of the other's head with his gun pressed against their cheek.

“Who sent you?! SPEAK!” John barked out.

“Erik!”

Erik looked towards the top of the stairs to find Zola and Malaika captured by more militant men. They were both barely covered with a sheet to conceal their nudity.

“If you shoot, we will kill them…”

Erik scowled furiously at whoever it was making threats.

“You’ve been on our radar for a while, Killmonger…”

John looked from his brother to the men holding the women hostage.

“Bandits?” John questioned.

Erik clenched his jaw. He kept a low profile in Lagos. No one knew about his whereabouts except Adewele, who he did business with. Did he betray him?

“How did you find me?”

The bandit wearing Nigerian militia and a red scarf shielding half of his face pointed his gun at Zola. John closed his eyes for a second. Erik looked at Zola with venomous suspicion.

“She’s our eyes and ears, isn’t that right? My wife?”

“What?” John couldn’t believe it, “You’ve been fucking the wife of your enemy?!”

Erik lost it.

“Erik, please–I–I–”

John watched as Zola’s brains were blown. The apparent leader of the bandits didn’t expect that turn of events. Malaika wailed, trying to escape. John watched her struggle, his mind racing. He didn’t know whether to trust Malaika. Erik didn’t hesitate to kill Zola. Malaika was tossed ferociously to the side while guns blazed. Erik raced up the stairs to handle the leader himself while John fought his way up towards Malaika. He got to her in time and fought off a militant before tossing his lifeless body down the stairs.

“John,” Malaika stared at him with tear-stricken eyes, “I didn’t know…I swear.”

“Here,” He helped Malaika to her feet, “I want you to hide until we make sure it’s safe, okay? Go.”

John watched Malaika run into a nearby room and close the door behind her. John ran off in search of Erik. He could hear commotion and found Erik fighting the leader of the bandits. A knife fight. John barged over and was nearly knocked over when a militant tried to subdue him. Erik swung his blade expertly while covered in blood.

“When I get you, I’m cutting your fucking head off!!!!” The leader shouted.

John brought the militant to the floor and wrapped his hands around his neck. He watched the life leave his body. Erik took a slash to his chest before throwing his blade, precisely hitting the leader in the eye. He dropped like a sack of potatoes to his death. Erik rocked back on his heels and dropped the blade in his hand. John approached his brother to check on him. Erik looked up at John with a smirk before laughing. John wasn’t in the mood for laughter.

“…I’m gonna go check on Malaika—”

“Nah, she’s probably in on this shit just like Zola. I can’t believe that bitch betrayed me.”

“You can’t believe it? Are you fucking serious? You ain’t learned from last time?”

“Whatever,” Erik picked himself up and stormed over to the door, “I gotta make a call. We need to be outta here before they come knocking.”

John clenched his fists and instead of going after Erik he went in search of Malaika. John made his way to the room she hid herself in and when he got closer he realized the door had been opened. John kicked the door open and flicked on the light. It was empty. He made his way back to the room he was in and noticed it was empty too.

Malaika had fled. He didn’t have time to process his emotions in regards to Malaika’s true intentions. All he hoped was that the girl was safe.

“How soon can they get here to clean up? I gotta disappear before shit gets hot…I’m gon’ keep it real with you, Adewele, I don’t trust anybody right now. Not even you. I appreciate how you came through, but I’m cutting ties…just wire me my last payment and we’re good…”

John listened in on his brother’s phone call before revealing himself. Erik paused to look John square in the eyes.

“I called a friend, they’ll meet us outside of the city to fly out. I’m gonna be off the radar for a bit to clean up this mess…”

John shook his head, “Do what you gotta do, bro. Just keep me the fuck out of it. I don’t wanna know what you did to have these people on your back. I got my own shit.”

Erik chuckled dryly, “Yeah, I know. Fuck me and my shit. I get it…”

Erik started packing his things. John had another mission when he got back.

“Listen, E. You should cool off for a while. Lay low someplace safe and leave this shit alone—”

“Can’t. I got a big job in Vietnam. I’m looking at a million dollar paycheck, bruh. I’m not laying low and missing that opportunity. You wouldn’t know anything about that…”

He didn’t have the energy to argue with Erik. And arguing wouldn’t change his mind. John walked away to get his things together. While he cleaned up and got dressed to leave, whoever Erik’s business partner called showed up to clean up the house. John watched the large men toss the dead bodies onto a five ton M939. John followed Erik out of the mansion and towards an armored, all black, Military hummer. They tossed their bags onto the back and climbed into the front.

Erik and John drove for five hours until they arrived at a dirt strip in the middle of nowhere in rural Benin. It took a lot of effort to get there without running into trouble. There was a helicopter waiting to transport them to their jet. John hopped out of the vehicle and gathered their bags while Erik spoke with his friend.

“This is my twin brother, John. John, this is Turk. We used to work closely together doing odd jobs…”

He appeared to be an Ethiopian man wearing a turban head wrap and dingy clothes covered in ultisol.

“Nice to meet you, John. Are you two ready to fly out?”

John shook Turk’s hand, “Yeah, let’s bounce.”

Once their bags were secure on the helicopter, they strapped themselves in and Turk took off.

John took a sip of water out of a canister while Erik focused below to make sure they weren’t being followed.

“E…”

Erik cut his eyes at John.

“I think it’s time to be abstinent.”

Erik snorted, “I see you got jokes…”

“You didn’t know who Zola’s husband was?”

“…She told me her husband was a limp-dick Doctor. There were no signs pointing at the shit being suspicious.”

“Malaika left.” John said.

“Who gives a fuck? You should have killed her ass. What happened to all that without remorse type shit?”

John shrugged, “It doesn’t matter now. Let’s get out of here now before shit blows up. You're still coming home after your next job, right?”

“I ain’t got a choice. I don’t want G-ma lighting a fire under my ass about it.”

John chuckled tiredly, “You know she don’t play.”

“Oh, I know.”

“Aye,” John leaned forward on his knees and reached out his hand, “Make it home in one piece.”

Erik clasped his brother's hand and gave him a pointed look, “Always. They don’t call me Killmonger for nothing. We touchin’ down in The Bay the same day and gettin’ hyphy.”

___________________

Promises couldn’t be kept. John was back in California within two weeks, but Erik hadn’t shown up. He had another top secret job awaiting him and he communicated to John via email that he’d be home in a few days. John drove to his new apartment in his all-black, BMW M340 with the windows rolled down, his favorite shades on, and a smirk on his face. The first stop he wanted to make was to his favorite barber in Oakland. He needed a good fade with a crisp line-up.

After his appointment, John headed to his new apartment and walked into a halfway furnished living space. He sat down on his black leather home theater sectional and released a sigh of contempt. It felt good to be home. No more sleepless nights, death knocking at his door, and covert missions. He could shower, eat, sleep, beat his dick, and watch crap TV. He could play COD and do normal things like grocery shop and spend time with his family.

After a long shower, John moisturized and threw on a pair of shorts with a white tee. He slipped on a durag and decided to order in. He had a long talk on the phone with his grandmother and promised that he would be over on Sunday for dinner. John ordered himself a meat lover's pizza and some hot wings. He sat at his high top on a stool with his laptop opened to a dating site. After Malaika, John was fiendish for another woman to spend some time with.

He settled on Hinge. He wasn’t really feeling Bumble at the moment. He was looking for someone to hook up with to scratch that itch for pussy. Bumble had too many women looking for commitment and John wasn’t ready to be locked down quite yet. He hadn’t checked his profile in a while so he was curious to see how many matches he has.

“Dana…26…art major…”

John read her profile and he instantly lost interest. He continued.

“Kayla. You’re too young…”

He washed his food down with some wine.

Hi, handsome

You have a nice smile

Are you interested in hooking up?

He started to wonder if this was a good idea. He’d gone through thirty profiles and not one was enough to make him pursue. That was, until he came across a woman he’d matched with a few days ago. He had to get through almost fifty matches to find her.

Her name was Gia; a thirty-one-year old woman with undeniable beauty. She’s a Spelman graduate with a degree in Biology and Anthropology. John read her dating profile and found Gia to be captivating and he hadn’t even spoken to her.

She’s looking for a low commitment relationship with good vibes, food, and conversation. She makes it known that she’s career-driven and is looking for a man in uniform, specifically a soldier. That narrows down the dating pool. There are other traits about her that John loved and he didn’t waste time sending her a message.

@hearteyes-for-killmonger @imagining-greatness @chaneajoyyy @uzumaki-rebellion @lisayourworries @ratedbadgal @bombshellbre95 @cancerianprincess @dameshaemonique @6lack-1otus @thickemadame @thickeeparker @stinkalinkkkk @ehniki @electrixt @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @bxolux @sweet2krazee @seyven89 @ispywithmylileye @geemamii @unbotheredblackchild @nubianbabee @adoreesun @blackpinup22 @nayaxwrites @cocoa-puffs @dersha89 @honeytoffee @thickianaaaa @modelmemoirs @queenfaithmarie @angelicniah @soulfulbeauty19 @aijha @novaniskye @callmemckenzieee @blowmymbackout @lahuttor @momobaby227 @blackerthings @kenbieee @princessxotwod @palmstreesallday @kokokonako @coolfancyone @soulsparker @richgirlaesthetics

[star-girl69]

American Teenager

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

synopsis: you get caught in the crossfire of clarisse’s anger, and have to convince clarisse you love every part of her.

a/n: i took over a year off, cut you bitches some slack…… TELL A FRIEND TO TELL A FRIEND… SHE’S BAAAAAACKKKK!!!!!!!!!

for those who do not know, i changed my theme. yes it is me. do you like it 😀

American Teenager - Ethel Cain

warnings: NOT BETA READ!!!, ending sucks yet again but i cant be bothered, y/n gets PUNCHED!!!!!!, creepy men, violence, very sad clarisse, IT IS VERY HARD FOR HER TO TALK ABOUT HER FEELINGS BUT SHE TRIES, swearing, usual demigod stuff, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

Clarisse is angry.

She has been angry all of her life, you know that. She was born with a fire in her veins that came straight from her godly father, potent and rolling around inside of her like a storm, a rabid dog biting at a cage, and nurtured over the years by a stern mother.

Clarisse was a recipe for destruction, for pain, for suffering. That’s what most people thought she was. They all thought she was her father’s daughter- full of fire, and she would never be anything else except the mean bully all the campers had grown to somewhat resent.

But she was more than that. She was your girl, she was everything you wanted and had prayed for years for. You knew she was angry, you knew she carried regret in her heart, you knew she ate up anything nice inside of her long ago.

But you didn’t care.

You gave her some of your own softness, your own nicety, drew it out of her with soft touches and sweet words, until she learned to love you and believed that she was the girl you always saw hidden inside.

Clarisse is angry.

You know that, you know the harsh girl you fell in love with, and you know the sweet girl she really is.

So, it’s no surprise to you that Clarisse has spent the entire afternoon glued to your side, glaring at anyone who walks by- but particularly her brother, Caden.

Caden has some sort of inferiority complex coupled with extreme sexism. He couldn’t stand the fact Clarisse was better than him, that she was the camp counselor instead of him. She had received her beloved spear from their father, he had no gifts to show.

Somewhere in his fucked up head he realized he couldn’t force his father to notice him, couldn’t uproot Clarisse from her counselor position, and though the next best thing was to go after you.

It started with glances that lasted too long, then subtle touches during camp activities, then actively flirting with you when Clarisse wasn’t around.

The only reason Caden had been allowed to this for this long was because you didn’t want to tell Clarisse and be responsible for what could very possibly be Caden’s death. You felt dirty, having his hands on you, barely-hidden sexual remarks whispered in your ear, his eyes on you- practically undressing you.

Clarisse would kill him if she knows what he’s done, how it makes you feel. And you really don’t want blood on your hands, so you avoid him as much as possible and attach yourself to Clarisse.

It’s a rare afternoon that you both have free, and it’s snatched with greedy hands and stretched out long like molasses, the two of you move slow and leisurely, try to sink into this time together.

You promised your sister you would help with the arts and crafts class she runs, spewing something about how you’re the best at making friendships bracelets- but really, her usual partner is on a quest and taking care of the rowdy 12 year olds is not an individual task.

So, here you are, sitting at a picnic table and making sample bracelets, feeling the sun on your face and Clarisse’s arms around you. She sits sideways, her front pressed against your side, straddling the bench. She watches the way the sun hits your face, the way your fingers move swiftly as you continue to bead and tie together.

There’s been this pit in your stomach since Caden started his advances- like a new organ had formed inside of you, pure black instead of a usual pink flesh. A physical form of all your guilt and disgust, filled with the dirt like you felt like.

It’s still there, even through the gaps of hot sunlight, the cooling shade of the tree above, but it’s easier to ignore when Clarisse is there. It’s easier to ignore, but it’s still there.

“I don’t understand how you’re so good at those,” Clarisse mumbles. She kisses your shoulder and you dig your feet into the dirt, smiling to yourself.

“I don’t either,” you smile. “What can I say? I’m the queen of friendship bracelets.”

“Ha,” she says, somewhat sarcastically, but you can hear the fond, loving smile in her voice. “How much longer?” she asks.

“Two more. Maybe 10 more minutes?”

“Okay,” she hums, drawing out the word. “Wanna get somethin’ to eat after this?”

“Yeah,” you say, looking away from the bracelets for just a second- to admire her like she gets to admire you.

“Nah, nah, you better finish those bracelets so I can have all your attention on me again.” She presses her face against yours, pushing you to face forward again and focus.

She departs with a kiss to corner of your lips, and you wonder if you really need all six example bracelets, but you know your sister would kill you if you didn’t show up tomorrow with six. You sigh and turn back to your bracelets, listening to the sweet sound of Clarisse laughing.

“Okay,” she says, leaning closer to you after a minute. “I’ll be back in a few, okay? I’m just gonna go change into shorts.”

“Okay,” you smile, and she squeezes your waist as she stands up. The feeling inside of you sinks in even more, the blackness in your stomach, but you focus on the feeling of the sun and her promise that she’ll come back soon.

“First time I’ve seen you alone in weeks.”

Your stomach sinks.

You’re a demigod and you deal with monsters and the whims of gods daily- but there’s something about humans, about demigods that makes you especially scared.

A step below a God, filled with resentment and blessed with superhuman abilities.

You’re not sure you’ve ever felt fear like this.

You glance up at him, quickly gathering all your bracelet supplies, shoving it into the pockets of your jeans without much care.

You force a smile, pretend like nothing’s wrong.

“Sorry,” you say. “I’m just leaving. Nice seeing you, Caden!”

“Why you leavin’ so quick, baby?”

“Meeting Clarisse,” you smile through gritted teeth.

“Well, I just saw my sister walk away so… are you lying to me, Y/N?” he laughs slightly, almost as if the idea of you not being completely observing of his will is unheard of, laughable.

“Yeah, I was just finishing up.” You shove a pile of beads into your pocket, moving for the next one-

His hand covers yours.

“You don’t look done. Sit down, huh?”

You glance around the courtyard, not even bothering to hide your fear like you were taught- at the sight of him, his tall stature, the fact he could easily overpower you- you forget everything you ever learned and turn into a puddle of fear. You’re fucking terrified, and it would be humiliating if it wasn’t just the most basic human tendencies preserving in you.

You can’t be embarrassed about biology, about what your human body was designed to do. At the end of the day, your blood is red- not gold.

“No, no, I really gotta go.” You rip your hand away, mourning the loss of a few beads that didn’t quite escape with you. Instead of dwelling on that, you quickly turn around and head towards the main pavilion, where there are more campers- maybe you can find Matty or Carrie, another one of Clarisse’s siblings who would just get him off your back.

But, he follows. Of course he follows. He’s a man who’s never been told no, and he won’t be refused by you.

“Y/N,” he drawls, voice still teasing.

You clench your fists and walk faster, finally risking a glance over your shoulder- you slam into a familiar warm body you have spent countless nights with, now wearing a pair of jean shorts.

One hand swings around your waist, the other sits over her hip- where her favorite dagger is hidden.

“Y/N?” she asks, not taking her eyes off of Caden, but her voice is soft and full of concern.

“Nothing, Clar. It’s fine, let’s just go, yeah?”

She looks at you for just a second, and you haven’t had time to school your features back into a flat facade, so there’s still fear all over your face.

“What the fuck did you do, Caden?”

“Just tryin’ to spend time with Y/N. That a crime?”

He avoids calling you her girlfriend, even though that’s how most of the Ares cabin has come to know you.

“Yeah,” she says, slightly incredulously. “You hit your head too hard? She’s my fuckin’ girlfriend. I don’t know what you did, but don’t do it again.”

It’s like a sixth sense, the way you feel his eyes rake down your body, lingering on your ass. The blackness inside of you squeezes, and you feel the sudden urge to throw up, squeezing your eyes shut-

Clarisse tugs you behind her.

“Don’t fucking look at her, Caden.”

Her voice is level in barely-masked rage, and it honestly would scare you a little bit- if it wasn’t for the way her hand caressed your hip so softly.

“I’m not hurtin’ anyone. She probably likes it, huh?”

You wonder if he genuinely thinks he’s flirting with you, or just trying to piss Clarisse off.

Her jaw clenches.

“Four weeks laundry duty.”

His smile drops.

“Don’t fucking test me, Caden.”

You’re silently surprised at her strength, so you quickly grab her hand and squeeze, trying to urge her forward. Your stomach feels lighter, hoping that maybe- finally, finally he’ll leave you alone-

“Really, Clarisse?” The edge of desperation in his tone is pathetic. “You’re gonna choose her over your own half-brother. We both know who’d she choose between the two of us though, huh? The stronger one. The better one. She’d choose the son.”

She drops your hand and spins around.

“Clarisse,” you warn. “Clarisse.”

But she seems to be lost in her own world, where everything narrows down to him and the cocky look on his face, memory of his words, and you know any trace of your sweet girl is gone and it’s just the anger.

You quickly push yourself in between them, putting your hands out to Clarisse- you feel sort of stupid, but you’re desperate for her to just turn around, to take you with her, for the two of you to do like she said and get something to eat. You want to eat by the beach with her, you want to feel her in the sun, you wanna let yourself believe that four weeks of laundry duty will deter him.

“Y/N,” she says, warning you, and you know she won’t stop.

“Clarisse, I’m telling you, turn around. He’s not worth it.”

You can hear his smile.

“You won’t be saying that when I finally get my hands on you, baby.”

Fuck.

“Clarisse!” you shout, knowing its coming- she aims around you, pushing you out of the way as she sets a deadly punch on path with his face.

But it doesn’t hit him. It doesn’t hit him, and he gasps in shock before quickly running away, not wanting to deal with the consequences of his actions.

And you can’t blame him, because with your knees on the ground and the sting of Clarisse’s fist on your cheek- you should have just let her fucking kill him.

—-

Clarisse hasn’t looked at you in two weeks.

After you fell to the ground, completely disoriented by her punch, you remember the sound of her screaming and Caden laughing as he ran away. You remember her hands shaking as she helped you up, touching you as little as possible, staring at her now red knuckles.

Although you really didn’t have to, she led you to the healers, and one of the Apollo kids looked at your swelling eye, gave you something for the pain, and said you could leave.

And then, she made sure you got home safe to your cabin and hasn’t looked at you again.

In hindsight, knowing that that was the end of the relationship you used to have, it feels like a bad goodbye for something so good. You can’t even call it a goodbye, because it wasn’t good at all. There should have been something. Something more.

You remember the way Clarisse couldn’t stop staring at her bruised knuckles, you remember the way she couldn’t look you in your eyes, couldn’t touch you- wouldn’t allow herself to touch you.

That night, the relationship you had with Clarisse ended. But, you were still as in love with her as ever, you didn’t blame her for simply trying to protect you- you were the person who stepped in front of her. One second you weren’t there, the next you were. She didn’t have time to pull her punch, she didn’t have time to aim somewhere else- you don’t blame her.

You remember her saying she was sorry as she helped you to the healers. Sorry, over and over again. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, baby, Y/N, sweetheart, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. You almost asked her to stop saying it, because the word was starting to sound weird. You almost told her it was unnecessary-because it was- but you didn’t get the chance. She made sure you got home safe to your cabin. She said she was sorry again, and then two weeks of torture commenced.

And you’re fucking sick of it. Sick of her acting like a coward, running away instead of owning up to the consequences of her actions- you aren’t mad at her for punching you. You never were.

You’re mad at her for leaving you in the days after, the nights where you couldn’t sleep on your favorite side because of the bruise. The nights where you would yawn and tears would well in your eyes, and it burned as it rolled down the sensitive skin. The nights where you would forget, and you would expect her to crawl into your bed like usual- but you would fall asleep alone and wake up alone.

You’re mad at her for abandoning you, for refusing to talk to you, to figure it out. Because while what you had before is gone, you can still have something new.

“Are we sure this is a good idea?” your friend Tyla asks.

“Yeah,” Jackie, your other friend, continues. “Like, she did literally punch you in the fucking face- are we sure that’s not some sort of subconscious thing?”

She shrinks at the harsh glares you and Tyla give her.

“Okay. That was mean,” she says, softly. “Sorry.”

You roll your eyes and continue walking towards the training fields, where you know the entire Ares cabin is practicing hand-to-hand skills.

“I told you,” you huff. “She was trying to protect me from Caden. She loves me, she’s just angry. Angry at herself, but she shouldn’t be.”

“What even happened to Caden?” Tyla asks, noses scrunching at the fact she has to even say his name. “I mean, I saw him walking around with that broken face but-”

“Clarisse!”

You look up to the top of the small hill, the plateau where the sparring rings are marked into the grass by eco-friendly spray paint.

She’s holding one of her siblings down, her knee on his back, her hands holding his arms behind his back.

“Stop! I tap out, I tap out, Clarisse!” The boy screams. She smiles softly before letting him go and standing up.

He lays face down on the ground for a minute, breathing heavily before he finally picks himself up- staring at Clarisse’s offered hand. After a moment, he takes it and lets her tug him up. He nods at her and walks away to his friends, moaning about his arms and his back.

Clarisse shakes out her hands and looks around, but she knows no one wants to spar with her after that, even thought even from here you can see the fire in her veins. The need for a fight, for something to distract her. The need for movement, hard and fast. The need for anger to be the only thing she can feel.

“Me next?”

“Y/N,” Tyla hisses, and Jackie reaches out to grab you but you merely shake her off.

Clarisse’s eyes lock with yours.

It takes you a second to recognize the emotion in her eyes. Her body tenses up, she seems frozen in place like a deer in headlights. She’s scared.

“Clar,” you smile, meeting her in the circle.

She tears her eyes away from you, choosing instead to stare at the grass.

“I’m not fighting you. Go.”

“I’m not asking you to fight me,” you smile. “I’m asking you to spar with me.”

She rolls her eyes.

“I’m not sparring with you.”

It’s so tense, no matter how much you try to make it like before, no matter how much you smile and try to look in her eyes.

“Can I talk with you, then?”

You shuffle closer, and she doesn’t move.

“Y/N,” she sighs. She looks up at you, but you can tell she’s staring right past you, towards the tree line. “Please don’t make me do this.”

“Do what?” you snort. “Face your feelings? Let me help you?”

Her face is level, almost bored. She turns her face into a facade, a mask of nothingness. She won’t let you in, not now, and it makes you angry.

You would take anything from her right now.

You want her to hate you. You want her to love you. You want everything and anything.

You would take another punch, as long as you got to feel her skin on yours for a split second.

You dig your foot into the ground and glare at her.

“Clarisse. I’m serious, I want to talk to you.”

Her eyes meet yours for a split second, before she’s moving.

“Too bad. Forget me,” she says over her shoulder.

She fucks up and she runs away.

“Clarisse!” you shout, following her out of the training field, out of view from the eyes that were trying and failing not to look at the two of you. “You can’t leave me here. You can’t just pretend like the last year we’ve been together didn’t happen.”

“It’s better that way,” she sighs, like she’s doing you some big favor by staying away from you, when all she’s doing is hurting you.

“It’s not!” you shout, finally surging forward and grabbing her wrist-

She whips around and tugs her wrist out of your grip.

You don’t think she’s ever once refused your touch.

It burns. It burns in your heart so badly, burns worse than any regret you could ever feel.

“Don’t,” she says, like she’s warning you. “I’m- I’m trying to protect you, okay? Just- stop bein’ fuckin’ stubborn.”

You take a dejected step back, even though all you want to do is run into her arms.

“I don’t get it,” she continues, folding her hands behind her back. Her eyes finally land on the faded bruise. “Why don’t you hate me?”

The heartbreak in her voice hurts more than the punch, than the nights without her.

“Because I love you, Clar. I don’t care about what happened, it was an accident- you’re the only one who can’t see that.”

“I hurt you.”

“The only thing that hurts is you being away from me.”

“Nah,” she says, taking a step back. She shakes her head, staring at your eye before finally turning away. “I’m only anger, Y/N. I’ll only hurt you. And I can’t take hurting you again.”

The feeling of staring at her back, the sound of her footsteps crunching in the leaves, hurts so bad it creates another new organ in your body.

This time, it’s like a tumor growing from your heart, encasing it so every beat is a struggle, every breath is ragged. This new organ carries your heartbreak, and it grows bigger by the second.

—-

It’s starting to feel like Clarisse is never going to even look at you again.

Even when you look straight at her from across the pavilion, she doesn’t look back. You stare at her back all day. The memory of her walking away from you replays in your mind every time you close your eyes.

You wonder, when it’s just you in your lonely bed, if Clarisse isn’t angry but rather scared. She’s angry at herself for hurting you, yes, but she’s terrified she’ll do it again. And you know Clarisse rarely feels fear, and you want nothing more but to help her navigate these unknown feelings- but she won’t let you in.

You don’t know how to let her help you, but you give her time. You stare at her when you hope she isn’t looking, you wrap your arms around yourself and pretend it’s her, you dream of her lips and the way she holds you, the way she loves you.

Clarisse took you to the docks for one of your dates. The fourth? The fifth? Somewhere around there, but it was the first time you kissed. Both of you had realized that you liked each other but agreed to take it slow, but you’d never forget the way she looked at you after you put the flower she brought you into your hair. The way she looked at you when you let your feet hang over the edge, kicking the water. The way your thigh pressed against hers, ankles hooked together.

You’ll never forget the way you looked up at her after dipping your fingers into the cool water, the control and self restraint finally leaving her eyes, her body, as her face sunk into a wide smile and she slammed her lips into yours.

The dock is sacred to the two of you, so when you’re missing her, especially during this sunset, this is where you go.

And it’s perfect. It’s so perfect you can almost convince yourself she’s here with you.

Except, if she was here with you, there wouldn’t be this tumor on your heart.

At the sound of his voice, the other organ your emotions have formed twists.

“This wasn’t my plan, y’know.”

“Go away, Caden,” you moan. Is it a crime to want to wallow in your own self pity? It is a crime to want the black organs inside of you to swallow you whole?

“I just wanted to knock Clarisse down a few pegs, and I certainly did that. Paid the price, too, you seen my fuckin’ face?”

It looks as horrible as it always does, you think, but you bite your tongue.

“I wanna be alone, Caden. Please.” You bite the word out like you’re a hyena choking on a laugh.

“But, c’mon.”

He steps closer to you, until you can feel him looming over you, tips of his sneakers pressing into your ass, he’s so close to you. You kick the water, annoyed, but he either doesn’t get the hint or ignores it.

“I’m not that bad, am I? Do me a favor, baby, let me cart you around for a few days and make her miserable.”

You’re about to just get up and leave all together when the sound of someone stepping onto the dock surprises you.

“Get away from her.”

But there’s something unspoken in the air. You’re just “her” now- not “my girlfriend” not “her’s.”

“Why are you always fuckin’ bothering me, Clarisse?”

You turn around. She smiles sarcastically.

“Why are you always fuckin’ bothering Y/N?”

“I’m not botherin’ her though, huh?”

He reaches down to grab at a piece of your hair, running it in between his fingers.

You flinch, but you’re more focused on the way Clarisse’s fists clench, her jaw ticks.

“Caden,” you sigh, batting his hand away.

“Seems like a pretty clear no to me, huh?”

Caden sighs and straightens, letting your hair fall from his fingers.

“What are you going to do about it, Clarisse? You gonna try and punch me- again? Try to hit the right person this time, huh?”

“Go fuck yourself, Caden.” She finally, finally, looks at you. You feel blessed and divine, like she’s a goddess who’s taken the time to merely look at you. “C’mon, Y/N.”

You scramble up to follow her beckoning hand at the same time Caden shifts on his feet.

He knocks into you, and you’re on the edge of the dock, and you scream as you fall in.

The water wasn’t that deep, but it was cold and embarrassing, and you fell at an awkward angle.

You surface, paddling to keep yourself afloat, coughing water out of your mouth and glaring up at him.

“Shit,” he swears, quickly running down the dock before you can shout some curse on his entire bloodline.

“Y/N?!” Clarisse shouts, panic on her face falling immediately at the sight of you afloat. She breathes out, fixing her hair that got all moved around in her frantic sprint down the dock. “You good?”

“Does it look like I’m good?” you deadpan.

She smiles.

“C’mon, come around to the ladder.”

She smiles as she helps you up, wrapping an arm around you even though you’re soaking wet, and you’re so mesmerized at the sight of her smiling, the feeling of her smiling at you that you can’t even comprehend it.

She has her arm wrapped around you.

She’s touching you.

Gods, did you miss this.

“Cold?” she asks, your hips pressed together as you walk down the dock.

“Yeah,” you whisper, feeling how warm she is against you. “I’ll be okay, though.”

“How long has he been… doing that?”

Your eyes meet hers.

“Jackie and Tyla told me- yelled at me, really- after they cornered me the other day. They said you were really fucked up about everything, and I should talk to you and I- I don’t know. I thought staying away was for the best.”

You cringe at the memory from a few nights ago, when you finally broke down and cried like a baby in front of your friends because of how much you missed her.

“And I saw you at the dock, and then fuckin’ Caden got over here before I could,” she laughs, dryly. “Whatever. I’ll walk you back-”

“Will you talk to me, Clar?”

You both stop, beachy sand sticks to your wet shoes, and Clarisse nervously looks away before you prod.

“I’m not mad at you. And I know you’re mad at yourself, and scared-”

She scoffs, but it’s halfhearted.

“But I love you, Clarisse. I love you, and I don’t blame you. Don’t blame yourself, and love me.”

In the sunlight, you can still see the remnants of the bruise. Softly, she reaches out and traces her pointer finger around your eye.

Her touch is so soft, the pad of her finger so rough- that sweet juxtaposition with her has always made your mind fuzzy. She makes all the tension in your body melt away. She makes everything better.

She swallows hard.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes, tears welling in her eyes. “I know I’ve said it so much, but I’m so fucking sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t- I didn’t mean to hit you, I swear on my father-”

Her voice chokes up, and you can tell she hates the fact she’s crying, so you draw her into your neck and let her hide away there. Running your hands through her hair, telling her it’s okay each time she apologizes.

“I know who you are,” you say when the tears have stopped, and you’re just relishing being in each other’s arms again. “I know who I fell in love with, and I know who you are. You’re angry and you’re sweet, you’re mean and you’re kind, and I love all of it. Don’t doubt that, please.”

She breathes out before leaving the comfort of your neck, putting her shaky hands on your face.

“I love all of you,” you repeat.

She smiles softly.

“I love all of you.”

She kisses your eye softly, literally almost like a butterfly landing on your eyelid, unable to not whisper one more apology against your skin.

You roll your eyes, smiling to match her.

“And don’t think I’d leave you over one mistake, seriously, La Rue. You insult me.”

She rolls her eyes too, thumb stroking your cheek.

“Oh, forgive me,” she teases.

“You’re already forgiven,” you smile, eyes traveling down to the lips you’ve been dreaming about. “But kiss me to make sure.”

—-

“-and he would just look at me all the time. That was the creepiest part, I think. Like, okay, he would feel up on me sometimes, but whatever. I could avoid him. At meals I would just be minding my business and he would be staring at me. More just annoying, you know? And, yeah. That made me feel horrible, like literally sick. I just felt so dirty, so fucked up- Clar?”

You watch as she stares up at the ceiling, cracking her knuckles.

“Clarisse,” you scold.

You shift from your stomach to your side, head propped up so you can properly look at her. Your bed is full and warm now that she’s here.

“Oh, no, keep goin’, baby.”

“Do not kill him. Do not hurt him. I told you, I don’t want that on my conscience.”

“Nah, I know, sweetheart. I’m just thinking about it, don’t take that away from me, huh?”

You roll your eyes, but a smile crosses its way onto your face. She smiles back, and it just feels so surreal, so different- but exactly like it’s supposed to be. You know Clarisse is angry, but you know she’s sweet too. Clarisse knows you love all of her.

She draws you to lay on her chest, hand in your hair, the other slipping under your shirt to scratch your back.

“I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell me,” she whispers. “That’s the worst thing. You were dealing with all this alone- and I had no fucking idea.”

“Yeah. ‘Cause being with you made it better, of course you didn’t notice.”

She kisses your forehead. “You’re too sweet, baby.”

You smile and kiss her chest.

“I’m only not killing him ‘cause you asked, I hope you know that. If it was up to me, he’d be dead.”

“Oh, baby, I know lots of other ways we can channel that emotion.”

You glance up at her and she searches your eyes before promptly throwing you to the side and climbing on top of you.

Yeah, Clarisse is angry. But you love her angry.

—-

clarisse staring at her hands like they’re covered in blood: oh gods… oh gods what have i done. what have i done (again that picture of ivan the terrible holding his d3ad son)

y/n: ouch! ok anyways- girl you did not kill me calm down.

—-

caden trying not to die after clarisse inconveniences him for the sixth time today… hides his favorite sword, permanently sticks him on laundry duty, puts literal “kick me” signs on his back, puts holes in his favorite clothes…

—-

y/n is that one song that goes “FUCK ME LIKE YOU MAD AT ME BABY I NEED A FREAK TO DRIVE ME CRAZZYYYYY”

…and she’s so real for that.

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1 @maxlynn17

@thewritingbarbie

—-

from this ask

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Dumb idea but what if you were found after being MIA for five years

The task force were confident in their ability to get the intel they needed from their current mission. They had been following this cell for months, knew more about them than the people paying them for information and had slowly chipped away at their defenses without getting their attention.

They were on the cusp of getting the intel they needed.

They had infiltrated the base without issue. Having taken out the guards in the perimeter so efficiently it was as if they had never been there in the first place. With the coverage of nightfall, they were undetected as they came up to the base and soon they were sneaking through the halls.

With every hostile they encountered they took care of them swiftly, leaving the bodies in a pool of their own blood before they even shot at them.

They reached the main room of the base and began their work retrieving all of the information they could from the computers and papers spread about.

Just as they collected enough information, alarms began to sound off in the base and in the distance they could hear gunfire.

Soap quickly looked at the cameras and saw a different group to the hostiles they were stealing from. They didn't look familiar as they gunned down the hostiles with expert skill.

"Who the fuck-"

"Doesn't matter." Price immediately went into action, barely paying attention to the cameras. "We need to get out of here."

In their attempt to get out unscathed and undetected, they ended up in the middle of the firefight. The fight became confusing; it was hard to tell who was shooting at who and where the hostiles were coming from. Many of the hostiles the 141 stole the info from began to die in front of them at an almost frightening speed, leaving the other group to push up.

The task force was close to getting out, if they could get past the threshold and run to a rendezvous point they'd get out without further issue-

A car bomb went off.

The blast sent Price into the ground, mostly unscathed saved for the wind being knocked out of him and temporarily taking his hearing with it.

He struggled to get up the others continued the fight, unable to get to him as they held their ground. They called out to him but he couldn't recover as quickly as he wanted to.

Someone approached him from the dust and he attempted to fire at them before he was kicked in the head. He became even more disorientated, barely able to hold onto consciousness as the person searched through his vest for the USB he had taken.

Price couldn't see their face and as he tried to fight them off, they shoved him back once they got the USB.

They were gone just as quick as they appeared. The gunfire slowly stopped and the group had disappeared, leaving the 141 with barely any ammo left and scraped up, and confused.

The mission went from successful to a complete disaster in mere moments.

Back on their temporary base they were left confused and defeated.

"How did this happen?" Gaz huffed.

"A group that small taking them head on would've died." Ghost said. "They were waiting for us."

"You believe that, sir?" Soap wondered.

Price hadn't said much since they got back, his arms crossed and a sour look on his face. He didn't like when things turned out like this, when things get taken from him so quickly without anyway to fight back. Usually an ambush never ended up with this much disaster...this had to have been planned.

"I do." He uncrossed his arms and looked to Laswell who was trying desperately to salvage this. "Can you find out who they are?"

"The cameras there recorded the incident but there's no identifiable markings or clothes that they wore." She explained as she sifted through her laptop. "I may have found our culprit."

The boys huddled around the projector, watching as the footage replayed from the security cameras.

The group walked out from the shadows into the cameras vision. They wore all black and all of them had their faces fully covered except for one, who looked at if they were given orders to put the bomb on the car.

Closer to the camera, it was easier to make out some of the features, but nothing looked recognizable until the person turned around.

"Pause it." Price's eyes widened and he felt his chest tighten. "Zoom in."

The others looked confused for a moment before they too felt their stomach drop. The air in the room became thick and every single one of them could only hear their hearts in their ears as it suddenly became hard to fight against their knees buckling.

Half a face they hadn't seen in five years, recognizable eyes that were darker and full of more hatred than they ever imagined to be possible.

The image was fuzzy but there was no mistake.

You were in the footage alive, five years after being confirmed MIA.

[her-devils-advocate]

Selfish risks

pairings: Levi Ackerman x (GN!) reader

genre: domestic fluff

summary: In the peaceful downtime spent together, Levi decides to risk asking an important question.

word count: 1,435

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54159382

The Scout headquarters is silent, most of the survey corps members have already taken themselves off to bed, greedily getting as much rest as possible before the next mission creeps up on them. Everyone has been working hard, with both training sessions and squad meetings running longer and longer each day, almost as if each scout could sense something approaching.

The wind howls outside the stone structure, rustling the leaves and causing the windows to rattle. You shiver despite the loud crackling of the fireplace inside your office, the amber flames fighting to keep the chill away.

The warmth and ambient sounds of nature do their best to lull you to sleep, exhaustion tugging on your eyelids as you force yourself to work through the night. A bad habit that you had picked up from a certain captain.

Your relationship with him over the years within the scouts had caused a few of his mannerisms to rub off onto you, for better or for worse. You’ve found that the recruits you are tasked to train tend to listen to you more after you picked up Levi’s “don’t test me” expression. However, you have caught yourself clicking your tongue in displeasure a lot more as well, much to the amusement of all those nearby to pick up on it.

The frantic scribbling of your pen grows louder as you try to rush the piles of paperwork towering before you. A small rumble breaks the silence as your stomach protests, unhappy with the dedication to the mountain of paper causing you to skip dinner accidentally.

You are so engulfed in the moment that you almost miss the gentle creaking of the door. You raise your head only to be met with tired silver eyes cutting through the shadows of the room. 

Levi slowly shuts the door before pausing, simply watching you sign your name and toss the pen to the side, ignoring the halfhearted glare thrown your way as it rolls across the desk and onto the floor with a small clatter. 

You stare at him for a moment, waiting for the small lecture about making a mess, even if it is in your own space. A lecture that, surprisingly, never comes.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" He says instead, his voice is gentle, yet you can sense the small reprimand within his words. 

"Curfew doesn't apply to squad leaders and higher, I thought you knew that?" You shoot him a playful smirk that only grows with the withering look you get in response.

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"I know, there's just... so much to get through and I figured I would power through most of it while you were in the meeting with Erwin and Hange. Which seemed like a good plan considering how long it took."

Levi lets out a long sigh as he walks towards the armchair by the fire, flopping down onto the worn fabric. You smile at the sight, at how carefree and unguarded he lets himself be around you. 

A sight some could never think to imagine when it comes to the aloof captain, but you know him better than most.

You get up from the desk, groaning slightly as your muscles scream in defiance. A sign that you have been cooped up on the uncomfortable wooden chair for far too long. The sound causes Levi's head to snap in your direction, only relaxing again when he notices you are in no real pain.

The sight makes you smile, even with everything he has to handle within the Survey Corps, he still always makes sure to look out for you as well. Even when he doesn’t need to.

His eyes track your every movement and you see a myriad of emotions swirling through them: exhaustion, concern, wonder, adoration and love all mix with the flickering amber of the fire within the gunmetal of his eyes.

He shuffles to try and give you some space beside him in the small armchair, only to frown in frustration and pull you into his arms instead. You rest your head in the crook of his neck, straddling his lap as you bring your hand up to run through his silky hair.

"Interesting meeting?" You whisper into his neck, not wanting to break the peace that has settled over you both. Something you both rarely get to cherish, yet heavily deserve.

The only reply you get is a small hum, he tightens his grip around you and peppers your shoulder with small kisses.

"Four-eyes has a new experiment they want to try out. Apparently, it's fundamental that Erwin lets them capture more titans for it." Levi says with a small grumble, his voice slightly muffled by your shoulder, clearly unhappy to remember what had held up the already late meeting for so long.

You go to open your mouth to speak, only for his low voice to cut you off instantly.

"And no, you're not helping them with whatever shitty plan they have in mind. You need to stop letting them drag you into their schemes so easily." He punctuates his words with a small flick to the centre of your forehead.

You let out a light laugh, the action sending a shiver across Levi's skin.

"How did you know I was going to suggest helping Hange?"

"I know you too well."

"That you do." You kiss his jawline, slowly moving towards his lips, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses as you do. He sighs when your lips finally meet his own, his eyes flickering shut briefly as you part. 

"Marry me."

Your eyes widen briefly, shock and excitement rushing through you, you are almost certain you had misheard him if it weren't for the slightest blush covering his cheeks and the determined look in his eyes.

"Is that an order, Captain?"

He huffs out a small laugh, his eyes flicking up briefly before he reveals a small ring from the pocket of his jacket. A proud green jewel sits atop the thin silver band, your breath catches as it glints in the firelight.

"I could make it one if you wanted. I got fed up of waiting for some perfect moment or whatever that traditional bullshit is. There are no perfect moments in this world, not when titans could eat us at any moment." He pauses for a moment, his usually stoic voice faltering with emotions as he tries to hide his face from your unwavering gaze.

"Or so I thought until you made me experience peace in these moments with you. Then I realised that every moment where we are alive together is a perfect one."

You stare at him with wide eyes, not noticing the stream of tears running down your cheeks until you feel his calloused hand brush them away with a softness you couldn't begin to imagine.

"The thought of having someone to lose scares me, but you've made me realise that marriage or not, loving you has been a risk I've been taking for a while now. Might as well make you officially mine while we have the chance."

You let out a watery giggle as your hands dance along the fabric of his shirt, smoothing out any creases that dare to cling to him.

"You know, most marriage proposals don't have the implications of a horrible death woven into them."

"That's clearly where the poor fuckers are going wrong then."

Levi's eyes are soft as he watches you, his lips finally quirking up into a small smile as you let out an undignified snort at his comment.

"Yes, I will marry you." 

You don't miss the way his shoulders drop with relief, nor the genuine joy that shines through his eyes. He delicately takes the hand you wordlessly offer him, taking his time to slide the ring onto your finger.

“Good, I want to risk being selfish. Just this once.”

You beam at his words, heart heavy as you place a soft kiss onto his lips before throwing your arms around his neck to pull him as close as possible. His arms quickly wrap around your lower back as he holds you tightly, his head resting against your chest. 

He can almost sense the approaching comment from the way you jiggle with pure, albeit restrained laughter.

“Is it green to match our capes? Don’t get me wrong, love, you choose very well. A fact I’m sure you already know, but…is that the reason?” “Shut up.”

The laugh you give him in response warms both of your hearts more than the now-dying fire could manage.

[killsbil]

His Muse

Pairing : Ghost x Secretary Reader

Warnings: angst, smut, choking, ghost jacking off in his car. Ghost driving for some damn reason

18+ ONLY MDNI

( YES, HETEROCHROMIA GHOST. CRY)

Now, you were a secretary for a special operations force called Task Force 141. While being the secretary, they had strict rules, of course, it wasn't JUST for you, but they weren't anything hard to follow honestly. It's not like you were some damn horny teenager, you were just trying to get by with this job. You wanted some job that could help you real good...and somehow you landed with this one, being the secretary, you only had to organize nearly everything, write reports, and emails, keep up with data, and do whatever Captain Pierce asks of you.

None of the members spoke to you as they never really saw you, well they did, but you didn't pay attention. Your face was always focused on the computer, typing away, but hey? What's a girl gotta do to get by yeah? One task force menber caught your eye, Simon Riley, he was quiet, and when he spoke his voice was cold, a little too serious. But when he looked at you, you wouldn't look back. He was honestly scary looking, honestly, he looked like he could just snap you in half if you said something wrong. You never spoke to him, he's always busy, you're Always busy... and either way, what would you say to him? The only thing you could think about saying was something about his eyes, they were pretty, one eye was brown, the other grayish blue. You had never seen heterochromia in person before, it was beautiful. It wouldn't hurt to tell him that... Right? Y/n had thought, it was not like he would kill her for that.

Noticing the time, and one of the recent emails from Captain Pierce, she had to bring a folder of mission data to the meeting...in that room ..with all those people. That wasn't scary...at all, y/n unlocked her cabinet, reached in the middle for a file, and closed it back, locking it.

She'd walk down the hallway and then turn to her right, knocking on a door, the sign next to the door would read "conference room". Through the window she saw a black male, with short curly hair, he was leaning back in his chair, he turned to her and smiled for a split second. his eyes went back to somebody who was talking, Shortly after the talk was done, y/n was allowed into the room, she walked over to Captain Pierce, placing the folder down as she turned around, she saw an empty chair next to a task force member named soap, he was nice, but all discussions y/n had with him were short. Was that Ghost's chair? Noticing y/n's stare, soap smiled, his other hand which rested behind a chair pointed down the hall.

Usually, he didn't do this, he would ignore her if she came in during meetings because she wasn't supposed to hear a thing about the meetings, y/n snapped out of it as she left, closing the door behind her. Now, she didn't like him like a crush, nor was she a fan of him, she just wanted to tell him her lil compliment.

Y/n went down the hall and turned, seeing a man pour him some coffee, it was a ghost, and he needed a breather. Y/n leaned on the wall as she watched him. Honestly ..he was so.. it was unexplainable but ...the girls that get it, get it. "You just gonna stand there and look stupid?" He said, not even turning around "Oh! Sorry I-'' she was about to explain before he finished her sentence" Didn't mean to," he said..pouring coffee into his coffee cup.

"How did you know what I was gonna say?" She asked him, as she walked closer, leaning on the counter "Cause that's what every secretary before you said " he said, his voice was cold, it was like he was just...tired of playing this game, over and over. "Every secretary before me? What happened to them?" Y/n asked, now...she was curious! She had forgotten all about her compliment. Ghost would let out a sigh as he turned around. "they all got terminated, fired. Breaking rules.. or they were spies" he said, he had some skull balaclava on, not the full mask, ghost would place his cup down leaning on the counter.

"you're gonna end up just like them, you're gonna take a bribe and spy, or break that rule." He added on, he read her like a book, y/n though, she scrunched up her face in confusion, somehow feeling a little disrespectful "Okay mr mysterious" she said with a slight eye roll. "Ghost." He corrected her, his voice firm "Lieutenant ghost." He said. Y/n's eyes widened when she realized his rank, now she felt a little demotion coming for that eye roll. Ghost's face was blank, with no expression, just those eyes staring at her as if he was reading her like a book. " What rule did they break" Y/n was a little interested in the lore now.. she was glad she was on break, otherwise Captain Pierce would have her head.

"Someone lacks critical thinking skills.." he mumbled, who invited him to the bitch fest? "No dating rule. They come up to me just like you did ...no ill intent, ask questions...then there's that compliment, and it starts something" he said, each word he got close to her, y/n leaned back against the counter as his hands rested on the counter, trapping her, his eyes stared down at her as if he was disappointed. "I'm gonna say this once... Don't treat this like it's some game like you can just sway a coworker with this innocent act, be professional" he said, he was tired. But was he tired of those girls just .. treating him like he was an award, an object for pleasure, or just....the betrayal, tired of having hope, letting someone close, and then...boom.

Well, the answer was he was just... Tired of the unprofessionalism "Huh -" y/n noticed how close he was, her heart beat so damn fast, hell! She wasn't trying to seduce him, she just wanted to give him that compliment." I...I just wanted to say your eyes are pretty. I never saw them up close. I'm sorry if you thought I was trying to pursue you Lieutenant" she said, and ghost was wrong, well, half wrong. He shook his head "You don't know what you're getting yourself into. Run along." He said turning his back to her and going back to his coffee...

Y/n was so confused...what the hell? She was NOT trying to seduce this man," um...right." she said walking back to her desk, part of her kind of liked that. But the other part was so damn confusing. Now, for the rest of her break, she was on the phone with her best friend until...she felt her phone vibrate, from a text message.. sent an unknown number. "Girl hold on...some number just texted me..." She said, putting her on speaker, "bitch don't you have it where unsaved numbers can't contact you??" She said, "Girl yes I do, that's why I'm confused."

She looked at the text message reading You're Loud. we can hear you down here. Now she knew it wasn't Captain Pierce because she had his number saved. "Is it your boss?" She asked "No? I have his number saved, remember he gave us that ride back to my house?" Y/n said "Oh shit...right Anyway, when is he gonna let me climb that tree-" she said "Bye Audrey, you are not getting me fired because you're sexually attracted to my boss- WHO COULD BE YOUR DAD," y/n said "call me a panther. I'm ready to take it..." Audrey said. "Bye ...get off my phone.. you're distracting me, I'll see you later." Y/n hung up on her sighing

She was a hot mess, Audrey was the friend with no filter, but anyway. She would look at the message rolling her eyes a little, y/n texted the number back saying Sorry about that, but who is this and how did you get my number? only for it to be left on read for about 50 minutes. She just rolled her eyes going back to organizing meetings and events. She hummed, and of course..responding to emails, she kind of neglected them.

Shortly after that, her phone lit up as she got a text message that said Lieutenant Ghost. with that she saved the contact. She wanted to mess with him a little, to ease the weird tension between them Responding 56 minutes later? now nice of you. She would text him. Yes, she thought she ate that. This time she got a quick response It's disrespectful to be on your phones during meetings, and you're counting the minutes Ms L/n? Y/n saw that, was she just eaten up respectfully? And Ms? SHE'S NOT EVEN MARRIED? Oh.. you could just call me Y/n, and I'm not married Lieutenant.. it would be Miss.. she would respond to his text Yeah YEAH she ate him up. noted. Would be the last text message he even sent.

soon came the end of the day, when everyone left, y/n was the only one left she had to stay back and respond to some emails, once she was done she'd lock her computer and would put any paperwork she left out, back in the respective drawers, when she went to the door she had seen the rain attacking the streets, this caused a loud annoyed groan from y/n, she didn't bring a damn umbrella cause she swore it wouldn't rain today. She suddenly felt someone behind her... who was left here? Was she not alone? As soon as she turned, she saw that it was Lieutenant Ghost, holding an umbrella at her "How far is your car..." He said. Now he didn't want her getting drenched in the rain, that's the nicest he could be at least "Oh no- my friends picking me up..." She said, smiling. That smile unthawed that heart of his, just a little. " It's 11:00 pm L/n, normal people are asleep by now," he said.

"So...you're not normal?" She asked, her smile getting wider, ghost just raised an eyebrow.."let me take you home." He said opening the door for her, he didn't exactly answer that question of hers ``You can drive? Gaz said ...you can't drive, you shouldn't be allowed behind the wheel" She said, if you saw the look on y/n's face, she looked horrified. "Do you want a ride home or do you want a sneak peek at the next little mermaid." He was getting drenched waiting for her, y/n laughed at his comment, and she stepped under the umbrella and followed him to his car, which was an eight-seater, and she mumbled sorry since she felt bad for him getting drenched. Ghost just got in behind the wheel, y/n turned to him asking him a question "Hey... Lieutenant... How come you're staying back?? Wouldn't you be sleeping about this time?" She asked "I could ask you the same, but I was getting training in.. that's all," he said, but the look on his face said differently.

Now ghost? He took care of his body, he had...muscle, a lot of it.. it was even visible when he wasn't flexing. Y/n would stare at his arms and hands as he drove, then slowly, her eyes moved back to his very own beautiful eyes. "Are you sure? You have this look on your face... Like you're not here mentally.." She said, Ghost stopped at a light, turning to her "You know, some questions aren't supposed to be asked," he said. "Well- I'm here for" "No you're not." He corrected her, internally, Ghost felt like he couldn't speak to anyone, it was a waste of time. "you can't handle anything I would tell you. that's if I did." He said, shaking his head, "How come? I'm helpful- I can handle it." She said " No." He repeated. "Please - I promise I can lift a weight off your shoulders" she begged, she wanted to help him, she felt like he could use a friend honestly "No. I'm not gonna say it again." Ghost said, sounding annoyed.

"Everyone does- "Y/n tried to speak, but she got cut off " Y/N. For the last time no, don't waste your time. You'd only hurt yourself..you'd be useless in this situation" He said, his voice like a stab directly into the heart, after that, y/n got quiet..then she furrowed her eyebrows turning to him "You don't need to be rude." She said Ghost looked confused, he didn't expect her to talk back "And I'm not useless... I'm a great listener! I don't know why but, ever since I've talked to you, you've done nothing but assume the worst about me. I just want to be your friend!" She said, Ghost started driving again, going silent before he deeply sighed "Colleagues, especially us, can't be friends. You're gonna be just like-" "I'm not like them- I don't wanna use you like a boy toy! I just think you're cool for fucks sake !" Y/n was starting to get so damn tired of his mindset.

"I understand you have this...wound but you can't just make it seem like I'm some weirdo... I'm not gonna befriend you, sleep with you, then leave! I think you're cool! " She said, "Besides, friends don't do any of that!" She added nodding. "If I say yes, are you gonna stop asking to be my friend?" He said, annoyed, he did feel a little better about her now that he knew she wasn't gonna try anything. "Yes!" Said smiling. "Does this mean I get to know your name?" She said, her smile all big.. ghost would let out a large...long dramatic sigh "Simon." He said, "That's a cute name !" She said, going to his contact, and changing his name, Ghost watched her shaking his head "But don't call me that at work. At least keep some professionalism" he said "Does that mean you'll call me by my first name?" She ignored what he said

"Did you hear what I said?" He stopped the car, turning to her with a serious look" Yes...." She said, looking away. The whole ride she didn't look him in the eyes, Ghost noticed that "look at me ." He asked, instead y/n would turning to look at a tree, Ghost would park between two cars as he gripped the girl's jaw, making her look at him. "What did I say?" He asked her, y/n stared in his eyes, fuck. She got nervous, butterflies filled her stomach as she bit her lips "Umm.. call you Lieutenant something. During work ...professional stuff..yeah." she said. Suddenly the tension between them got hot..

Ghost sighed, looking at her pretty lips a little too long.. "fuck.." he said"what... Do I have something on my face?" She said furrowing her eyebrows, confused "Nah..." He said just ..staring, was he gonna kiss her? "Hey- I mean...if you wanna kiss me .. do it, yolo?" She said, honestly she thought 3 things were gonna happen, he headbutts the fuck out of her, kisses her, or or or. Well, scratch those two things.

"That'd be unprofessional.." he said, his eyes never leaving her lips. "Oh for fucks sake then fire me for this." She lifted his mask to his lips, kissing him, and she held his face. The next thing you knew she was on his lap making out with the masked man, it got hot...he gripped her waist as her kiss got serious. A moan came from y/n as Ghost's hand slowly unbuttoned her shirt. Suddenly y/n heard her name being called, she snapped out of it looking at ghosts.

"Bloody hell. You look like you just saw a ghost." He said, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion "I'm sorry Lieutenant, what were you saying..?" Y/n said blinking a couple of times "I said did you hear what I said?" He said "Oh yeah ..professionalism." she said, sighing "No, I asked you for your address?" Now Ghost was confused "What's with you? You were just staring off?" He said, looking her up and down. "Nothing...I could've just sworn... Something had happened. But it didn't? I was just imagining it." Y/n said, "But I live...." She told him his address, she only lived a couple blocks down from him.

Eventually, y/n and ghost pulled up to her pretty house, she watched the rain fall with a smile, and then she turned to Ghost "Hey.. I have a question lieutenant.." she said "Simon, we are out of work.." he said, this girl fought to be his friend and get the privilege of knowing and calling him by his name... Now she's not? "But lieutenant sounds better," she said, aggravating Simon, and she knew she was. "God, you're annoying..what is it? What's your question" he said, sighing.. he was getting used to y/n honestly.. She was cute in a sense.

"Can we take a photo ? I wanna put it in your contact.. " she said, Ghost sighed "..." He looked at her, and the look he gave told her no, but ... She wanted a yes, she pleaded, doing the little look and all "fine." Ghost, a dog trained to kill mercilessly, cracked to a secretary pleading for a photo "but don't show anyone it. Got it?" He said

"Thank you, Simon!" She giggled and hugged him, this caught Him off guard, he wasn't.. the type of person who did physical affection, but his arms wrapped around her, hugging her back as a part of him wanted to cry, she felt so nice and warm. Something so comforting, he had the urge to protect her, the urge to lock her in a cage and keep her all to himself. "Ghost..?" She said as he spaced out, his head resting on her shoulder, his grip was firm but allowed her to move

she pulled back slightly reaching for his face, and that's when his eyes snapped to her, he released her looking away.. suddenly y/ns giggle was heard "You're a hugger." She said, "I'm a soldier." He replied she shook her head "No no, deep down that hug, you cherished it..that moment was something you're gonna remember" she said, he rolled his eyes turning his head to him"What are you- some psychologist?" He squinted.

"Oh no - I went to college for ( insert major of your choice) I could never do psychology! But my friend Audrey is a psychologist so I know a couple of things." She said proudly, Ghost nodded, he knew to remember Audrey "Come on and take this picture..you got some sleep to get." He said, "Aww you care!" She said messing with him. "Y/n." He said, "Okay okay!" She laughed, his care filled with her joy and giggles... Something for a change ... Maybe she wasn't like the others, well he hoped so.

She leaned in, getting him in the frame, but he barely was in it "Oh let me readjust!" She said she moved a little, and it didn't fix. This process went on for 6 minutes. "Note to self.. don't let y/n take pictures ." He sighed "Just... Sit on my lap for the picture." He said. Y/n grew flustered, "but I could crush you-" she said trying to find a better alternative, Ghost looked offended " ' I can lift you easy, you'll find out someday..But hurry up." She said,

she sighed, climbing into his lap hovering, getting ready to take the picture, ghost glared, putting his hands onto her waist as he forced her down with ease as if she was some kind of lightweight to him." see. not that hard to sit down and listen. Atta girl, now take the picture." He said, atta girl? Sit down and listen. Y/n was flustered by his words... Whew lord she needed to act right .. She felt his arms wrap around her, and she took the picture smiling. She didn't know what Ghost did, but she took it.

Y/n had accidentally dropped her phone, she moved back against Ghost as she bent down while sitting on him "What are you doing-" he said, his heart dropping as he felt her right above something she shouldn't be on. "Well I dropped my phone, so he still!" She said she was the only one moving around, god, she didn't mean to grind but she was doing it! Ghost bit down on his lips as he resisted the urge to just.. thrust up, suddenly he felt her warmth...that didn't help. "Y/n... Please just ...look normally.." he said, his voice cracking

"Shut up I almost got it!" She said, her lower body hovering above the said area before roughly sitting down, this made Ghost tilt his head up as he roughly gripped her waist forcing her to sit up. "Have you got that damn phone yet?" He said, his chest heaving up and down. "Yeah! I got it as soon as you pulled me up, thanks again for the ride Simon, I'll pay you back I promise...are you gonna watch me go in my house?" She asked, Simon just nodded as he watched her get up, and out of the car leaving to go inside her house

GHOST POV

fuck... I know she didn't mean to do that but... Shit. Why am I so riled up over something like that? Get it together lieutenant. He thought, he looked down at his boner as he sighed...she's in her house ...and it's not like y/n could see through his windows. He sighed, unbuckling his pants, and pulling down his boxers just to see his erect cock spring out, pre cum nearly leaking out, he removed his gloves sighed, closed them strokes his shaft. You're probably wondering what he imagined, of course, it was y/n, he tilted his head back only to see y/n bouncing on his cock, a moaning and teary mess.

He bucked his hips up into his hand as he visualized how pretty her boobs would look bouncing every time she did, looking down just to see a  bulge , he was the one causing it. Her whines and moans, her pleading for him to go faster, rougher, to choke her.  And he did just that,  then...a word came out. "love you so much!" she said, instead of shocking ghost, in this scenario he took his mask off begining to mark her up with bite marks and hickeys. Y/n gripped his short blonde shaggy hair.  His thrusts became passionate as he Whined "so good..so good .. nice and warm for me" he said in a shakey  voice... Finally, he came A little too much, the little scenario ended as he opened his eyes to him being in his car parked out  by y/ns house, he cleaned himself up. Simon has a moment of clarity... He just sighed, before speaking to himself "I'm setting myself up again..." He said before fixing himself, driving off.

[zaldritzosrose]

Forelsket (Osferth x Uhtred's Daughter!Reader)

"Forelsket (Norwegian), the feeling of falling in love."

Summary: Summary: You both knew it was a risk. You were Uhtred’s eldest daughter, his first daughter. He adored you and was more than a little protective. Osferth was, if he was forced to admit it, terrified of his Lord in that regard. So, your relationship remained a secret, you both found it impossible to not be drawn to the other. But it wasn’t as secret as you both believed.

CW: MINORS DNI, she/her pronouns, afab reader, the show timeline barely exists here, Uhtred being a doting but oblivious dad, Finan and Sihtric being smug shits, Osferth being a sweetheart, mentions of sex, p in v sex, (in river)dry humping, fingering, profanity, loss of virginity (m and f), outdoor sex, mentions of alchohol and gambling.

Words: 4873

Thank you to @thenameswinter99 for betaing this for me!

You could remember the day Osferth had come to your father, asking to fight at his side as his uncle, Leofric, had before he died. You had found him so sweet, even then. The look of fear on his face as he approached Uhtred, which quickly turned to embarrassment when his status as a bastard was outed. You still hated Aethelwold for that – something you made known quite often.

And when he turned up before you were set to leave Winchester after Lady Aetheflaed’s wedding? You barely hid the smile that tugged at your lips when you saw him there with his cloak and pack. Giving your father a look that dared him to say no to the young monk.

Watching him try, fail and try again to fight like a warrior. Desperate to be like his uncle, you could tell. It took three offers for him to accept your help, not because he didn’t want help from a woman, but because he didn’t want any help to begin with. It was only with your insistence that Osferth even gave in. It was nice to finally teach someone what Uhtred had taught you.

But that was months ago now. The both of you were close as ever now, to most you were no more than friends. Brought together by your shared youth. The pair of you would ride side by side, eat together, even fight back-to-back. There were few times of day you were ever separated.

You both thought the truth of your relationship was a well-kept secret, a mutual agreement until you had convinced Uhtred you were no longer a child and perfectly capable of not only caring for yourself but also to seek out romantic endeavours. You had argued to Osferth that if your father was going to accept anyone as your other half – it would be him. But while he knew you were probably right, the time just never seemed right.

So, you managed as you were. Quick glances at each over the fire, sneaking off when you could to simply spend time alone. Though Osferth would never allow himself further than heated kisses and intimate caresses.

Little did you both know; your secret wasn’t as hidden as you thought.

The journey back to Rumcofa had been tiring and every single one of them appreciated the next words that came out of Uhtred’s mouth.

“We will rest here for the night; we have all earned the rest.” Uhtred commanded, slowing the five of you down near a small clearing in some trees.

Sihtric made quick work of tugging packs and bedrolls from the horses while Finan volunteered himself to collect wood for a fire. Uhtred began unpacking the food that was left and handing it over to you. You didn’t mind cooking being your task, considering it meant you would stay close to your father – for his comfort more than yours. But more importantly, it meant you spent more time with Osferth.

The monk had well established himself as a good cook, his soups and stews being group favourites. You were more than happy to take a backseat and aid him where you could.

With Uhtred occupied, having wandered off to help Sihtric lay out bedrolls and build the fire in preparation for Finan’s return, you slid across the log you both sat on, brushing your shoulder and leg against Osferth’s.

You felt him freeze, almost dropping the knife he was cutting vegetables with.

“Careful…” he whispered, concentrating on the food before him.

But you could see him glancing up towards your father and Sihtric. He didn’t sound upset, just worried as he usually was when you tried to dance on the line of secrecy.

“My father is well occupied, Sihtric wouldn’t say a word to him if he saw,” you whispered back, seeing Osferth’s gaze now flick to you. That smile you loved so much finally tugging at his lips.

But he didn’t push you away, if anything he relaxed, his leg falling to the side and resting on yours. Seeing you sit close would barely be unusual, everywhere you were you both sat close beside each other. Be it an inn, a camp, or even a feast table.

The pair of you sat in silence, simply enjoying each other’s presence. Soon, Finan returned, and the fire was lit. All the stew was prepared and boiling. Everyone relaxed around the fire, you and Osferth taking it in turns to stir the food before serving. The others talked as they ate, but you and Osferth remained silent, stealing glances at each other and smiling.

Nothing would seem out of the ordinary to a stranger. Just two friends enjoying a meal. But if anyone were to take a closer look, they would see the affection that far surpassed friendship. Or the soft blush that would find Osferth’s cheeks when your hand brushed his as he handed you something. Or how you seemed to inch ever closer to him throughout the night.

And everyone but your father, had begun to take that closer look.

Morning soon came and you were woken by Uhtred calling out that he, Finan and Sihtric were going to bathe in a nearby river. You wondered why Osferth wasn’t included, but when you saw he remained asleep, you simply smiled and set about serving yourself leftover stew for breakfast.

You could hear your father and friends, so you knew they were not far, and while Osferth was asleep you took the chance to press a kiss to his cheek before heading down to the river. Finan and Sihtric were somewhere between brothers and uncles to you now, so seeing them and your father minus their shirts in the river wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

Simply for privacy, you would always bathe after them, which you appreciated. You sat at the bank, legs outstretched and staring into the distance when you heard the three men shouting something out. Something you soon realised was Osferth’s nickname…

“Baby monk! He lives!” Finan called out, opening his arms to both welcome Osferth and splash water nowhere near him.

You glanced up, seeing your monk in only his undershirt and trousers, his shoes and robe long discarded. Your eyes widened a little when you saw him tug the shirt over his head and you looked only at the ground when he began to untie his trousers. And you silently prayed no one else had noticed.

But when you looked up, you could see both Sihtric and Finan looking at you. Brows raised and annoying smirks on their faces.

Your cheeks felt hot, and you were sure the red flush could be seen. You kept your eyes trained down until you heard your name being called. Trying to block out whatever jokes were being sent your way, until your father called your name.

“When Osferth is done, you bathe, then we leave alright?” Uhtred called to you, and you nodded in response, not trusting your voice.

The three men passed you, Finan stopping to whisper to you.

“Might want to work on that blush, wee one,” he smirked, ruffling your hair as Sihtric laughed.

Thankfully, Uhtred seemed to still be entirely oblivious.

You remained on the bank, waiting until you knew you and Osferth were entirely alone before you even dared look up at him. His back was to you now, but you could see him splashing the water over his face and hair. You had never gone further than touching each other, hurried hands taking what pleasures you could whenever you were left alone.

But the sight of him, creamy skin damp and glistening, the muscles in his back more prevalent now he fought with a sword. You could barely stop the sigh, probably louder than it should have been, and the need to you cross your legs, seeking some friction to soothe the throbbing in your core.

Osferth turned around and looked up, hearing the sigh that fell from your lips, and he couldn’t help his smile when your eyes widened at the sight of him from the front. He wasn’t as well built as the others, he had yet to clock the years as a warrior for that. But he was long and lean, soft lines of muscle over his torso. If you were standing, you might have swooned – though you would never tell him that.

You barely noticed him leave the river, not until he appeared at your side. His shirt remained off, but his trousers were back on, he couldn’t have brought himself to bare himself quite that much to you…yet.

“You should get yourself bathed, otherwise your father will come looking,” Osferth said softly, noticing how your eyes still remained focused on his torso.

It was only his hand on your shoulder that pulled your thoughts back to reality. You closed your eyes, giving your head the slightest of shakes before you stood.

“Right, bathe…”

You knew if you didn’t move now, you would never move. You expected Osferth to leave, ever the gentleman and respecting your privacy. You walked down to the water, assuming he had walked off, tugging at your own shirt and trousers as you went. It wasn’t until you reached the water, that you realised he was still on the bank. He had even sat in your place.

Your back remained to him, discarding your clothes and quickly sinking below the water. If you had turned, you would have seen Osferth completely turned away as you stripped. The idea that he was watching made your whole body hot, your stomach twisting in both nerves and desire.

Only when you were submerged to your shoulders did you turn.

“Staying, Osferth?” you teased, trying to hide the slight quiver that seemed to creep into your voice.

It was Osferth’s turn to stare. He knew he should look away, but he couldn’t seem to. His eyes trailing to where the water rippled around you as you breathed, imagining what was hidden beneath. He was so focused there; he didn’t notice that you had swam closer to the bank.

“My father will not come look for me, and he will assume you are not nearby…you could join me?”

Osferth choked on his breath at your question. You wanted him to what…?

It wasn’t until you asked him again, did Osferth even try to answer. He couldn’t deny that he was tempted, the sinful thoughts in his mind right now would make even Finan blush. But he knew it was still risky. And you could see his hesitation. In an act of both mercy and the desire to have some alone time with him, you decided to find a compromise. You quickly leaned out to grab your shirt, slipping it over your head. Your body covered in a perfect opposite to Osferth’s.

“Now I am almost as covered as you, does that change your mind?”

Osferth knew you both might not get another moment alone before you reached Rumcofa. Plus, you were of the same mind as him, you would never push him further than he wished to go. He said nothing as he made his way down the bank, barely stopping as he slid into the water. He’d find a way to explain his wet clothing later.

“You’re a walking temptation, you know that?” he smiled, slipping his arms beneath the water to tug your body to his.

“Then let me tempt you…”

Your hands rested on his chest, taking a moment to savour the feel of his skin beneath your palms. One day, you’d be able to take your time, truly savour every moment. But for now, this would do.

There was barely an inch between you both, your shirt soaked and stuck to the dips and swells of your body. Osferth’s hands found your waist, leaning down to press his forehead to yours, breath fanning over your face. He could feel every ounce of blood in his body rush to his length, already feeling himself harden and he’d barely touched you. You were his first, in truth, and his body liked to remind him of it.

Your eyes closed as his lips pressed to yours. Gentle at first, but it wasn’t long before he got a little more heated. His tongue licking softly over your lower lip, asking for entry. Which you gladly gave, desperate to have as much of your monk as he’d give you.

His kiss deepened, arms wrapping around your waist, holding you impossibly tight to his chest. You gasped into his mouth as he lifted you, turning until your back rested against the firm bank of the river.

“Osferth…” you gripped tight to his shoulders as you sighed his name.

His lips drifting down until they latched onto your neck, your head dropping back in pleasure. Osferth was so lost to pleasure that he barely registered your leg hooking around his waist, or his own hand supporting it on instinct. He just wanted to feel you. He drank down every one of your moans, his hips begin to rut up into you in a primal need for more. More you, more pleasure, more…anything.

Pleasure rippled through your core; you’d only ever felt him like this once. The last time you had ever been left alone and you had found yourself straddling Osferth’s lap. Rolling your hips down onto him until you both found your releases.

But this…this felt far more intimate. His large hand gripping the meat of your thigh in a bid to keep some control of his urges. Your own hands dug into the flesh of his shoulders for the same reason.

Osferth’s lips remained on your throat as his focus turned to the rhythm of his hips. You could hear him muttering under his breath, and you were sure you heard a few curses mixed in with your name.

You were both so lost to pleasure, Osferth already twitching against you, that neither of you heard a voice in the distance calling your names. It was only when you heard a rustle of leaves, and the crunch of footsteps did you push Osferth back.

“Shit…” you muttered to yourself and Osferth quickly snapped back to reality.

He almost threw himself back up into the bank and tugging his shirt over his body. You were more impressed by the speed at which he put distance between himself and you. You were also quick to leave the water, pulling on the rest of your clothes and sitting down at the edge to wring out your hair.

You could hear Osferth talking but you didn’t dare look up to see who. But when you heard him walk away, you waited a few minutes before you chose to follow.

The looks on Sihtric and Finan’s faces, however, when you returned to the camp told you it had been one of them that had interrupted you. Lucky for them, you didn’t notice the coins that passed between them as you sat opposite Osferth, a tinge of pink on your cheeks..

The journey that afternoon was quiet, though you knew Sihtric and Finan were keeping their eyes trained between you and Osferth. You did your best to drown out their snickering, knowing for sure they were talking about that morning.

Osferth rode quietly at your right, though you couldn’t bring yourself to look over at him, knowing it would only prompt more chatter from your two quite annoying friends. Uhtred, thankfully continued to remain unaware, focused on the destination rather than the journey itself.

Thankfully, Rumcofa soon appeared in the distance. You had never been happier to see those wooden buildings and the shouting of the merchants arriving by boat. You hoped that you could just disappear the moment you arrived, sparing yourself the torment you knew would come from your friends.

Your horses were stabled for you the moment you arrived, and you barely looked back as hurried towards the inn your father usually had everyone stay in. By the time the others entered, you had already collected your key and disappeared up the stairs to your room. You didn’t even turn to see Osferth’s face drop into what could only be disappointment.

You still didn’t come down from your room for food, asking the innkeeper if you could eat upstairs instead. That certainly didn’t go unnoticed by your father, but he knew you well enough to know it was useless bothering you. You were much too like him, stubborn to your own detriment.

Instead, you ate in silence, though you could hear the laughter and shouting from the inn below. And you recognised four very distinct laughs without a doubt. But you were embarrassed. Not of Osferth, you could never. But of the way your friends reacted. As if they found it ridiculous – which hurt your feelings. Or were being horrendously smug about finally having their thoughts confirmed.

You did your best to ignore it all. Forcing yourself to sleep through it.

During the day, you were present. Following your father where he needed to go. Eating your meals with your friends. But Osferth could see you were more careful with your actions. Not sitting so close, glancing up at Sihtric and Finan as if gauging their reactions.

But when the evening came, you would excuse yourself back to your room – saying you were tired from the day and simply wished for sleep.

Everyone knew better than to argue with you, solely because you would rarely relent. If you were going to do something, you would do it. No opinion needed.

So, for four more nights in a row, your father and the others remained drinking downstairs whilst you disappeared and slept – as far as they knew.

In reality, you lay awake mostly. Temptation to join them gnawing at you but you knew if you went down and drank, you would be more likely to slip up and reveal what you had kept so well hidden.

But on the fifth night, shouting outside your window pulled you from your bed. From what you could hear, it was two women fighting. Fighting over what, however, would surprise you.

“He’s mine!” you heard one voice shout, only to be followed by a slapping sound and another shout.

“No! He’s mine, you bitch!”

Your eyes widened a little, curiosity taking over as you tugged a blanket over your shoulders before poking your head out of the window. But what, or who, you saw changed your curiosity to anger.

Osferth, quickly followed by Uhtred and Finan, the monk calling out to Uhtred for ‘some help’.

“What the…” you hurried out of your room, footsteps thundering down the wooden steps as you all but ran through the inn. You hadn’t seen Sihtric in the corner of the inn, smirking when he saw the pure rage on your face.

You exited the inn, the rain making you pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders, to see your father and Finan pulling to women apart and Osferth standing looking more than embarrassed.

The woman in Finan’s grip struggled, and you realised immediately…

They were fighting over Osferth.

None of the men had seen you, yet. Uhtred and Finan escorted the women away and Osferth turned to re-enter the inn when he saw you. You jaw tight and your eyes filling with angry tears.

“Are you fucking serious, Osferth?” you snapped, the rain hiding the tears that hit your cheeks.

His eyes dropped to the ground, feet fidgeting as he tried to figure out what to say. But his silence only made you angrier.

“I leave you to your own devices and you have two women fighting over you, after four days without me?”

You knew your words were probably a little harsh, you had both decided to keep your relationship a secret. And you would never deny Osferth was handsome, so it made perfect sense for other women to find him attractive and desirable. But you hated how jealous it made you.

Osferth finally looked at you, his eyes sad compared to your angry.

“I didn’t do anything…they just…wouldn’t leave me alone…”

Always so polite. You had never really noticed it, because when you were with him, Osferth would be entirely focused on you. But apparently without you, he hadn’t the heart to reject any woman who approached him.

His words made you falter, just a little.

“So, you didn’t want them?”

Osferth took a few steps forward, frowning as you stepped back. As the rain got heavier, you walked back until you were sheltered under what turned out to be an empty stable.

The monk followed, trying to reach out to you but quickly changing his mind.

“I could never,” his voice was so soft you could barely hear him over the rain, but you heard enough.

He stepped forward again, his hand stretching out just a little. But you didn’t move this time. Soon, he was mere inches from you, pushing the wet hair out of your face.

“Why would I, when I have you?” Osferth kept his hand on your cheek, smiling when you didn’t push him away.

He wanted to ask why you had pulled yourself away, but he didn’t want to upset you more. It could wait. What he really wanted to do was show you what you meant to him. You let him tilt your face up, nuzzling your cheek into his hand as your eyes closed.

“And I only want you,” he whispered, leaning in so slow you were almost ready to pull him closer just as his lips brushed against yours.

It wasn’t long before the kiss deepened, Osferth’s tongue sliding between your parted lips as the blanket slipped from your shoulders. The rest was a flurry of rough kisses and wandering hands. You didn’t know when Osferth had backed you against the wall, but you didn’t stop him. With one hand on your waist and the other gripping your jaw, his whole body pressed impossibly close to yours.

“Please…” you whispered, breaking the kiss and tugging a little at his robe.

Osferth leaned his forehead pressed against yours, reminding you almost perfectly of your little moment in the river. His eyes were closed, his breath hot on your skin. He could feel the desire pulsing through his veins, the need to show you just how much he did truly want you. This was not how he planned it, but it felt perfect.

It was too cold to bare yourselves fully, but with your soft nightgown – something you wore only when you stayed at inns – and he being dressed only in his robe and trousers, there was enough to work with.

He knew enough of the pleasures other men pursued to know that you needed to be prepared. That it would hurt you. His eyes opened slowly, glancing around for the best…location in the stable.

“Are you sure?” he asked, but you only pressed your lips to his, trying to slip your hand beneath his robe. But he gripped your wrist gently.

“Say it, love, please…”

You smiled, even now, your monk was a gentleman.

“I want this, and I want you.”

It was like something had ignited inside him. His grip on your wrist loosened, capturing your lips in a kiss you didn’t think him capable of. Your eyes fluttering closed as you moaned into his mouth. You quickly pulled your dress, bunching the fabric to the top of your legs. Osferth had managed to tug off his robe, leaving him in an undershirt and his now untied trousers.

Your mind reeled, it was like you were back in the river, except this time it was really going to happen. But your mind went blank the second you felt his fingers travel down between your thighs. Easing down inch by inch until they pressed against your pearl.

“Osferth,” you sighed, the sensation already sending waves of pleasure through you.

His fingers were tentative, though his movements became surer as he listened and responded to the sweet sounds that fell from your lips. Your hands finding purchase on his shoulders and soon your hips began to rock down to match his rhythm.

With his forehead pressed against yours, he dared to slip a single digit between your folds. Swallowing your moan with his kiss. He knew, from the loud and sometimes unnecessarily descriptive conversations Finan and Sihtric would have, that a woman needed to be well prepared – especially if it was her first time.

And he had every intention of bringing you all the pleasure he could.

“Does it feel good, love?” he whispered, internally cringing away from the words but the way you bit your lip and kissed him harder gave him his answer and only spurred him on more.

“Yes, gods, yes…” you panted, hand raising to tangle in his damp hair, pulling his lips back down to yours as you felt the familiar pressure make your walls clench in anticipation.

Osferth let out a groan at the feeling, his mind immediately wondering if this is how it would feel when he buried himself inside you. Your moans pitched higher as your peak washed over you. Osferth let his fingers move a few more times before pulling away, his lips pressing to yours in another heated kiss. You had barely relaxed when fumbling hands found your thigh and wrapped around your back, hoisting you up with your legs soon wrapped around his waist.

You could hardly contain your gasped moan when you felt the length of him push against you, still clothed with his trousers. But Osferth spared now more time freeing himself. He would find time to be sweet and slow later, right now, he needed you.

“Slowly, I’ll go as slow as I can...” he mumbled, mostly to himself as he held himself by the base, sliding his swollen cockhead between your folds.

It took every fibre of his being not to slam his hips up into you. He could hear you wince a little the deeper he went, and he kept his eyes on you the entire time. Watching for even the smallest sign of discomfort. You nodded, gripping his shoulders tight as he pushed further in, feeling the sting of your maidenhood breaking.

You barely hid your hiss, but a deep kiss to Osferth’s lips assured him you were fine. Slowly but surely, he was into the hilt. His breath was heavy as he waited for your permission to move, just the squeezing and clenching of your walls around his cock was enough to almost having him spilling there and then.

“Move, please…” you whispered, and Osferth began a tentative rhythm.

With your legs wrapped tight around his waist, his hands and body supporting you, his thrusts slowly got faster. Drinking down every gasp and moan with hungry kisses. Your hand tight in his hair as he chased his own end.

Osferth knew it wouldn’t be a long embrace, but he could already feel himself twitching and pulsing with impending release. Another wave of pleasure took over you, his name like a sordid prayer on your lips.

That was his undoing. The squeeze of your walls, the delicious sound of his name on your tongue. Just as he felt the heat rush down his spine, he pulled back, spilling himself with a few quick tugs onto the stone floor below.

You didn’t mind how ungracefully your feet hit the ground, the muscles in your thighs however were already aching.

When Osferth was finally spent, he turned back to you, a soft and tired smile on his lips.

“I love you,” he whispered, eyes wide when he realised what he’d said.

But you only pulled him closer, laughing as he frantically stuffed his cock back into his trousers.

“I love you too.”

Finan and Sihtric almost had to hold Uhtred down when the sound of moans filtered across the small road between the stable and the inn. It wasn’t until they all heard Osferth’s name, followed by a groan of your name did they actually have to hold Uhtred back.

“She’s my daughter and he’s…” Uhtred growled out as both men tugged him back to his seat.

The two men looked at each other with soft yet smug smiles.

“They’re in love, lord,” Finan stated, watching as Uhtred’s anger turned to confusion.

“In love?”

Sihtric stifled a laugh as, yet another moan was heard as someone opened the inn door.

“Have been for a while now, I wager, they thought they were excellent secret keepers.”

Uhtred slumped in his chair. Knowing you, it wouldn’t be worth telling you not to pursue Osferth. And, if he was honest with himself, there were no kinder men more suited to you than the young monk. But he’d never tell either of you that.

The sounds of pleasure seemed to, thankfully, reach an end and Uhtred made a quick exit to seek out another drink. As he left, Sihtric begrudgingly slid the coins he’d won at camp back over to Finan.

While the Dane had been right about your relationship with Osferth, it seemed Finan had been more right about when the two of you would finally make it physical.

Taglist:

@legitalicat @thenameswinter99 @aemondsbabygirl

@aemondsbabe @tumblin-theworldaway @arcielee

@sylasthegrim @hoosbandewan @thought--bubble

@kaelatargaryen @towriteloveontheirarms

@alexagirlie @anjelicawrites @multyfangirl

If you want to be added, please let me know!

[dragonsfictavern]

Brighter Than The Sun

Astarion x gn!Reader

a/n: I have no idea if this was a prompt I saw somewhere or if this was completely out of my brain, the idea was from months ago and I finally got around to writing it.

summary: With the parasite no longer in your brains, Astarion can no longer go into the sun. You try everything you can think of to help him experience the same heat but with no luck. Until you think to use yourself as a means for Astarion to feel the suns warmth once more.

word count: 1.7k

From the shadows he watches you, his red eyes almost gleaming and noticeable through the darkness. He stands behind the door, watching you, waiting for you… He needs you and yet he knows you need to stay away, if only for a little while longer. Long enough to get what he wants.

Astarion stands behind the door of the home you two share together in Baldur's Gate. With the parasite long gone and his ascension a trickle of a memory, Astarion has long since been unable to walk in the sun. It spurns him once more as if his mask had been unveiled and even the sun could see what he truly was. While on the other hand, darkness has greeted him back like an old friend and he remains cursing it.

More than anything he yearns to once more see the color in the world, to feel its warmth on his cold skin. But even after years of searching, he feels as though you two aren’t any closer to finding a cure, from ridding him of the curse forced upon him so long ago. Even so, his mind stays focused on the task and it touches him deeply that it remains in yours as well.

Which is what has brought along today’s events. When reality had first set in, Astarion couldn’t ever explain the despair he felt toward never being able to feel the sun’s warmth again. But he didn’t have to explain. He knew you understood, he knew you saw him for all he was. You have for probably much longer than he gave you credit for. Always the one to try and fix things, Astarion wasn’t surprised when you tried thinking of clever ways he’d be able to feel the sunlight again. You had tried creating the hottest of fires and yet it didn’t feel the same. Nothing ever felt the same. Astarion had given up and urged you to do the same. He should’ve known you well enough by now to know that wasn’t something you were capable of.

So this morning when you began guiding him toward the door, Astarion briefly questioned if he was being led to his demise. If you had finally gotten tired of him and decided to end it all. Of course you hadn’t. Wouldn’t. Who’d ever get tired of him, after all… He only resisted briefly until you ended up explaining your entire plan to him. To have you stand in the sun and then shut the door and hug him. So that way, he may once again feel the heat of the sun against warm flesh.

Astarion’s heart swelled, lips parted as he struggled to react and while he still couldn’t quite express his gratitude and affections out loud, he knew he could show you them through his actions and it would always mean just as much. He may have thought the plan ridiculous, silly even, but it was your attempt that moved him. The way you never gave up on him. Now here you two are, you out in the sun as he lurks in the depths of the shadows. Astarion’s lips part as he watches you bask in the sunlight's rays, your eyes closed and a soft smile on your face.

Whilst always beautiful, Astarion remains even more assured that you are most beautiful in the sun. His feelings toward you both similar in the weight you hold in his heart. His eyes trial over your form, looking on as the sunlight highlights your complexion, the sun shimmering across your skin. The way it flickers off of you, making you appear even more brighter and full of life. Astarion watches it all, his attentions never having been more focused. He couldn’t dare look away from you and miss a moment of this.

You were so close and yet so far and as Astarion looked upon your beauty, memories from before starts flooding through his mind of him out there with you. Astarion couldn’t help but step forward, reaching out to you. He didn’t think, too caught up in how much he wanted you near. Not because of the sun but simply because you were you.

As his hand falls into a faint sliver of sun, instead of the comforting warmth he has shamefully become accustomed to, the familiar burning radiates across his skin. The sound of his skin sizzling rang in the quiet air and instead of peace the sun now brings panic, causing Astarion to release a high-pitched hiss. You jump, opening your eyes and looking over at him as Astarion quickly draws his hand back. You take a step to him but he uses that same hand to motion for you to stop.

“No! Don’t come closer. Just stay out there… for a little while longer,” Astarion pleads, brows furrowing deeply. It wasn’t until this moment, this instant where he’s reminded of the pain the sun has the power to inflict upon him, that he thinks your once silly idea may actually be important.

“Astarion-“ You try, tilting your head, eyes on his crackling hand that already starts to heal itself. But it’s one shake from his head that has you quieting. The softness in his gaze that has you stopping from stepping into his darkness. You look over him before giving a tentative nod. Your body turns back toward the sun within the space of the open door, but your eyes occasionally flicker over to him.

His fingers press into the flesh as it returns to its original smooth texture, the only trace of it being the faint throbbing that was already starting to fade too. As Astarion stares at you as you stand in the one place he could not reach you, despair flowers in his chest like a plague. You two are so different. While dealing with the parasite, while able to walk into the sun, Astarion could simply ignore it, not think about it because there were so many other important things to think about. Could push their differences aside in order to use you, then eventually love you.

But all that was gone now. You could walk in the day while he was stuck in the shadows. Even while only inches away, to Asatrion, it was like he could see an invisible barrier set between you both. A force that stops him from being with you, touching you. Something he could never cross so long as he was like this— a vampire spawn.

He was not good for you, he knew. All this time, Astarion allowed himself to be greedy, convinced himself that you need him as much as he needs you. But his love was doing exactly what the dark was doing to him. Trapping you. He was sure that if your heart wasn’t so big, you’d be out in the sun more often. Like you deserved.

Then you did the most peculiar thing. In a flash, you were closing the door, objecting yourself to the dark, and you reach for him. One hand wrapping around his waist as the other grips the nape of his neck. Both use their strength to pull him into you. Before Astarion can process what’s happening, you’re hugging him.

Warmth radiates off your skin and spreads over his. You guide Astarion’s head into your neck, letting him feel all the heat the sun left on you. Now, after this time being with him, Astarion doesn’t hesitate to hug you back. His arms wrap around you firmly as he exhales a shaky breath.

“I could feel you thinking from all the way over there,” your smooth voice washes over him, making warmth spread within him as well as across his body. He burrows closer to you, soaking up everything your skin was offering. He could imagine the fierce sun and how it must have felt upon first contact. But somehow, when it was you providing it instead of the sun, it was better. So much better.

He finally had you in his arms and the fog that moments prior were tormenting him now clear away. As you imply, he was thinking too much. He was spiraling and second guessing himself and even worse, you. He knows that you would never truly do something you didn’t want. You wouldn’t be with him unless it’s what you wanted. He didn’t have the power to trap you and he would never want it. While he can’t deny your differences, he also can’t say they’re a bad thing. He likes that you’re not the same person. Although, Astarion would dare say he’d make a lovely suitor for himself if the chance arose.

“What ever are you talking about, darling?” Releasing a light-hearted chuckle along with the question. Astarion’s hand brushes along your neck as well, the skin feeling even warmer here. Everything in him tells him to hide his feelings, to brush them aside and offer a short quip. While he knows he’ll end up telling you everything later, right now he can’t help but evade the vulnerability that was controlling him.

“Oh, I must be seeing things, then,” you tease right back, understanding Astarion and playing along with it. Astarion closes his eyes, gratefulness filling his body and pouring out in his physical contact with you.

“Hmm, must get that checked out,” he shoots back, not able to stop the words from slipping out of his mouth. You both end up laughing together and the peace that spreads through the atmosphere around you two reminds him why he never ends up keeping anything from you anymore. He learned his lesson once before.

The two of you fall into a peaceful silence as you remain hugging in the darkness. Your skin quickly grows colder again, losing what your time in the sun left you with. Even so, neither of you step away from the hug.

“You know, out of all the ways you’ve attempted to give me back sunlight, I have to say, this is by far my favorite,” Astarion admits, moving to rest his forehead against yours. The warmth he feels with you blazes hotter than any sun could ever supply him. He hears as your heart picks up and your neck once again becomes warmer than the rest of your body. Astarion does not hold back his grin, informing you of his awareness, yet remains still as he enjoys what he can get.

Astarion keeps you close as he realizes that any lack of sun is worth it when he gets moments like this in return.

[killergee]

Not that Bad

Hoshina x delinquent reader

Just a vice captain who's tired but also slightly charmed by the reader. A crack fic of a mischievous reader bantering with Hoshina.

Tagslist: @alwaysalilconfused

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"Are you smoking?" A voice called out from above where you were seated on the ground.

Looking up, you saw Hoshina's head popping out of the window, his arms resting on the window sill. "No?"

"I can clearly see the cigarette in your mouth."

"Then why'd you ask, genius?" You chuckled as you pulled the bud out of your mouth to exhale. The sunlight was warm, the weather light and breezy, and the sky blue and cloudless—the perfect conditions for a cigarette and a nap. Too bad you were interrupted.

"God, do you want me to add more pages to your disciplinary folder." Hoshina heaved out a heavy sigh as he sinked into his arms, resting his head on them. With his head turned towards you, you could see him trying to stiffle a yawn. Maybe even he felt today was a lazy day. "It's already so thick."

Humming in acknowledgment, you nonetheless continued your smoke unperturbed. "Want a drag?" You asked with a small smirk.

Hoshina lets out a scoff to hide his amusement. "Put it out and give me 20 laps around this building."

"God damn," you huffed out, smothering your cigarette on the ground. "And here I was being all considerate and smoking somewhere with no people," you murmured as you got up and did a long and lazy stretch.

Hoshina smiled at your antics. "How kind of you, but you should've picked a better hiding spot."

"Duly noted."

Glancing over at him, you realized he had no intention of leaving his comfortable position on the window sill. Eyes closed and relaxed, he looked like a lazy cat basking in the sunlight.

"Aren't you gonna leaving?"

"I gotta make sure you do all 20. Now, pick up the pace." He peaked one eye open at you. "We wouldn't want to waste such a beautiful day."

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Hoshina knew you were trouble the moment you joined his unit. As amusing as you were, he knew he wouldn't accept you if you couldn't take your job seriously. But that never ended up being a problem.

You were the grade A example of a delinquent, but never on the field. No, on the field, you listened to orders and worked flawlessly with everyone. You were a dependable, essential officer, and the force was lucky to have you.

The reason why they haven't kicked you out yet was because you were damn good at your job. The reason why they haven't promoted you? You were a terrible soldier in every other sense.

The day you lead a platoon of your own, hoshina will be rolling in his grave. He could already imagine you leading a platoon full of officers holding cigars in their mouths and firing guns aimeslessly and chaotically at the sky. The poor rookies that might fall into your care. He was shaking at the thought.

He really should try to reign in your rowdiness and train away your laziness.

"Fix your posture."

"Eh? Who are we trying to impress? The queen?"

"Can you stop slacking off?"

"Can you give me more breaks?"

"I told you to throw these damn cigarettes away."

"I did! I threw them away into my closet instead of the drawers you searched."

An impossible and laughable task, he fears.

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"You're out past curfew." Hoshina started immediately, already waiting in the hallway as he watched you climb in through the window.

"What am I, a child?" You rebutted, but mentally you were scolding yourself for choosing the wrong window. Well, it probably didn't matter, anyways, he would've known. Stupid cameras and high-tech defense systems.

"No, you're an officer and a rookie at that. Back in my day, rookies respect-"

"Good God, 'back in my day,' don't act like you're not only a few years older. I'm also not a rookie, and you know that." You interuppted him, shutting the window.

"Then why are you still the same rank as the other rookies?"

"Hey, that's an uppermanagement issue. It's their own fault for not promoting me." You said cheekily with a smile.

Hoshina leaned against the wall, arms crossed as he looked at you with what he hoped was a scolding look. "Well, that's because you keep going off and doing things like this."

The laughter that responded made it difficult for him to keep up his dissaproving front. You leaned back against the window sill. "If there's a chance imma keel over and die on the field, then why shouldn't I live my life to the fullest?"

The truthfulness of your statement surprised him. He expected you to deflect like you always did. With how carefree and reckless you acted, he never expected you to be the type to think such heavy thoughts, let alone share them with him. It made him feel a bit somber.

"Hmmm... what were you doing?" Hoshina asked, finally letting himself give into your whims. Maybe it was because it was a long day, or maybe it was the calmness of the night. Whatever it was, he let his shoulders sag and his body relax a little. "Only midly curious."

"Went to a bar," you responded proudly as you looked overly content—downright smug— at your successful escapade.

Hoshina couldn't help but bark out a laugh in disbelief. "Should've known," he spoke almost too fondly with the shake of his head.

Grinning from ear to ear, you felt warm at his reaction. "Sorry, I lied, I was actually saving orphans from trees."

His incredulous laughter was like music to your ears. Who knew such a beautiful sound existed?

"You should've seen how hard those trees fought. I'm lucky to have made it out alive."

The way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat. "Yeah, yeah, what a hero. You're under house arrest. No leaving the base past curfew or I'm gonna report you for real."

You groan overexaggeratedly at his statement, but you knew he was letting you off easy. Hell, could this even be considered a punishment when he's just asking you to follow curfew?

You wondered why. Why wasn't he making you do a billion push-ups or clean the latrines? Why wasn't he scolding you and writing you up? Why did his eyes look so soft?

You wanted to chase this high you were feeling around him.

"Finneee. But say," you spoke, feigning disinterest in his answer, "if you were to come with me, can I go out? You know, since it'd be a supervised outing and all..." You shrugged, experimenting with his new leniency. Though, with the way he was sighing exasperatedly, it seems like you will be doing some push-ups tonight.

"Maybe."

"Wait, what?" You didn't bother hiding your disbelief or your excitement. "Really?"

"Go to bed, officer," Hoshina said, turning and making his way to his own room.

"Wanna make sure I get into my bed properly?" You yelled at his retreating figure.

"Unbelievable."