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rehmes · 11 days

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Nothing Solitary about Us : ⋆༘ Wriothesley / reader | headcannons . oneshot

‗ content / trigger warning: bigger story / reader background not fully mentioned, reader is a refugee, Wriothesley swooning (in his own way), thoughts of self doubt, fluff/angst?? Like a weird mixture of the two, not beta read, we die like Wriothesley's adoptive parents. ‗word count: 4k ‗ author's note: If you saw when I accidentally posted this the first time . . . no you didn't! Apologies if it's ooc, a little long, or has errors in spelling. English isn't my first language and this is the first time I've written for Wriothesley! Any suggestions to improve will be much appreciated! :D

Wriothesley could still remember the day he saw you, the day that you had come into the Fortress after, purposefully, committing a crime to gain some sort of refugee status; Why you thought to come to a prison, of all places, to receive such a thing baffled him the most. And it had baffled him for the longest time until you had told him why:

You and The Duke first met when The Duke wasn’t even The Duke; Meeting as cellmates in the Fortress, having been put in the same age group for practically everything that the Fortress had to offer at that time. Which wasn't a lot, and with Wrothesley’s lack of enthusiasm to even look in your direction, it made everything a lot more insufferable. But, Wriothesley didn’t know that; He was just intent on staying out of your way and not causing any more trouble for himself. Likewise, the thought of making friends with you did creep into his mind but so did the doubts that you might hate him after you figured out why he was sentenced here. So, it took a lot for Wriothesley and you to actually begin talking, despite being paired for a lot of the backbreaking activities. And, Wriothesley does still remember that day, too: It was after a tiring shift, where you were both thoroughly whipped out and about to crash at the dinner tables. You both had used coupons to buy food, and didn’t even have the energy to sit at different tables, muchless to open the containers containing your dinner. It felt as though every muscle in your bodies had been torn, limb from limb, muscle from tissue and bone, it was excruciating… and you were about sure you could appeal to the Iudex about this being considered some sort of child labor. Maybe even murder if they kept pushing you both like this. Luckily, you guessed, Wriothesley looked a little better in shape than you did, but he was not far lagging behind. With shaking hands he reached out to open his dinner for the night, to only pause and stare down in horror at what was on his tray. It made you nervous to even peek into yours, seeing the way Wriothesley’s face contorted; A corner of his left eye tightening, his eyebrows furrowing down to create visible creases along his forehead, and a scowl you’ve only ever seen when someone bothered him. A look of pure disgust.

Yet, you still checked yours away. You didn’t know that Wriothesley had glanced up to see if you had gotten the same horror as he did, and by some god awful prank (or pure disluck) you also had the conglomeration on your plate. Some weird, mysterious meat that sat on the plate, sometimes twitching like it was still mooing, sometimes resting as meat should rest. Equally unappetizing and making your hunger even more apparent, as you were tempted to taste the horrific creation that came out of that unsanitized kitchen. “You know,” Your voice caught Wriothesley's attention, as his had drifted down to the plate of food in front of him. His eyes shot up and barely met yours, “it could be worse?” You shrugged your shoulders in a joking way, giving Wriothesley an awkward look paired with an even awkwarder smile. He was a bit baffled at your conclusion, “It could be worse?” He questioned, calm and steady, confused and a bit curious on where you were going to go with such a statement.

In his fatigue, he had broken the one rule he had set for himself in this place; Don’t talk to anyone, don’t make yourself known, don’t make any friends. In his fatigue he didn’t believe answering you would be so wrong nor did he believe that you two would ever speak again after his point, so why not entertain you… and himself.

“At least they didn’t puke on our plate?” The joke fell from your lips with the weakest chuckle you could muster. Your eyes drooped and the pain was evident in the way your eyes shined ever so less than normal. Wriothesley was about to respond, yet you managed to get at it before him; “You know, where I came from, if you didn’t have a fire you had to eat your fish cold! Like, ice cold. And there was nothing you could do about it… other descale the thing and pray you didn’t just eat your last meal.” “Is that right?” Wriothesley cocked an eyebrow up, unsure where you had come from yet didn’t enjoy the images that came into his head. Well, one was particularly funny and it was the thought of you trying to bite into a frozen fish and hurting your teeth. Not like he wanted that to happen, maybe. “Well, don’t give the kitchen staff any ideas or maybe they’ll just import that from your weird homeland.” It had been a while since Wriothesley had laughed, and he couldn’t help but chuckle softly alongside you. The conversation was a ridiculous one, especially when first conversations usually went along the lines of introducing yourselves to each other. Yet, oddly to Wriothesley, it felt about right. And from that day, Wriothesley was sure he didn’t know of a day where he didn’t talk to you. Even if it started with a small greeting in the hallway or pointers on how to do a job more efficiently, small conversation gradually turned into the two of you chatting for hours eating lunch or dinner and even trying to talk after lights out. It finally felt like you had escaped your past and had a friend in a place you named your refuge, and Wriothesley finally felt like he had met someone (though this feeling was slow and gradually coming) that would accept him, despite his past doings.

Wriothesley interlocked his fingers, resting his elbows on the table, and nestled his chin on the finger net he had made. His eyes were softer than usual, yet that piercing blue. Back then, when you two had simply been inmates trying to work out your frustration and struggles with the world; Now, you laid on the couch in Wriothesley’s office in the fortress, with his coat draped over you like a blanket, napping. From outside eyes, you both would look like the perfect couple, yet he hadn’t even managed to ask you the question yet; But, he had an inkling you understood, just as he did, how he felt about you. Otherwise, Wriothesley couldn’t fathom why you decide to spend your nights in his office, keeping him company, when you could be in the nurse wing with Sigewinne or doing “orderly duties” for the fortress above on the surface. It made a small smile twitch onto his lips seeing you, you always managed to do that; But, it also bubbled the age old question in his mind . . . is this life good enough for you? Wriothesley is usually a calm man, a collected one, who didn’t often question why people came to the Fortress and simply gave them a second chance at peace – well, more frankly, at life. He understood how such a thing could quell the anger that simmered in convicts and made it his life work to make sure everyone was treated as fairly as they worked for. Yet, you? You were a different question. He still wasn’t sure why you had come to the Fortress in the first place, yet had deduced from several conversations you came from the Snezhnaya. Sure, he could go into the room lined with file drawers with the reasons why convicts had been placed into captivity, but that room was one, far too crowded for his taste, and two, he didn’t wish on peaking into your personal life. At least, without your permission.

Yet, still, the thought always crossed him on why you were here – by choice! Not that you walked in and checked yourself in, yet you committed many crimes to be noticed in Fontaine, trailed in court, then admitted to your crimes to be placed into the Fortress. The thought of doing such a thing made him cross his arms and lean back in the chair, his eyes more settled on your sleeping form and the way his jacket hugged the curves of your body. You always looked so happy on the surface, to see the sky and breathe the fresh air. Wriothesley wouldn’t want to keep you trapped in the Fortress. “I’ve never seen you so pensive before, Duke!” A voice suddenly appeared besides Wriothesley, causing him to jerk out of his train of thought. He sat up straight, a little suddenly, as he quickly turned to notice the all too familiar nurse of the Fortress: Sigewinne. The Duke played off his thoughts with a chuckle, “Ah, yes, well, I was thinking about something, Sigewinne.” He would half-heartedly joke, as the nurse gave him an all too unamused look. ‘No shit’, was what he was sure she was telling him in her head, but he only responded with a cool snicker. “Well, the tea you ordered from Liyue arrived at the Fortress and I came wondering if you wanted some,” The offer hung in the air, and Wriothesley knew the nurse would tag on a remark. “But it seems like you may need to talk out some problems.” She wasn’t an expert on human emotions, but she was better than spilling his mind to an inmate, Wriothesley guessed… or maybe even you. A pensive hum left the Duke’s lips as Sigewinne walked over, a hop away from skipping, and settled her tray with tea onto his desk. Promptly, she would nestle herself properly into a chair on the other side of Wriothesley’s desk, hands resting over her stomach and a pleased smile on her face.

“Go on, Wriothesley! I’m open ears.” Chimed the Nurse. Though only playful sarcasm came from the Duke as he poured himself a cup of tea, “Hmm, talking about my emotions? That seems like such a fun topic.” He knew it was needed, if not wanted. Even more so when Sigewinne didn’t seem too pleased with his half-hearted answer; As she pouted her lips and let out an extensive huff; “As the nurse, I care for everyone in the Fortress and that includes you too, Duke! Please, don’t make my job any harder than it needs to be.” There was an earnest tone in her voice, and Wriothesley knew she was getting better in her studies.

Even more so when she shook her head after his moments of silence, “Your eyebrows are frowned and your eyes rest everywhere but me or,” Wriothesley’s eyes drifted to you when Sigewinne pointed you out. You had shifted in your sleep, now laying on your back. You were peaceful; It made his eyes soften. He remembered when you used to have trouble sleeping by yourself, never feeling safe enough… Now you were sleeping like nothing in the world could ever hurt you. Like those fears of the past were nothing but fears. And they were; Wriothesley will make sure of it.

Sigewinne’s eyes had drifted off to you too. She was silent as she surveyed the way you slept and then the way Wriothesley lingered his attention on you. “You’re still debating whether or not to tell her, huh?” “And where did you hear that?” There’s the cheeky Sigewinne that Wriothesley knew. Of course, he knew her more caring side as the Nurse but he had a hunch that she also knew about why he had been so “thoughtful” – to put it colorfully. Though Sigewinne would shake her head and smile, “You’re very obvious sometimes! I think even Miss Clorinde knows!” That wouldn’t be good. Not at all. “Does she now?” But Wriothesley had to remain cool, collected. Now, it wasn’t that Wriothesley was embarrassed for others to know of his crush on you – well, by this point, it’s lasted so long he was sure he could dub it love, but better safe than sorry if you didn’t return his feelings – but he was simply cautious about other inmates knowing. After all, you were still technically one of them, an inmate. Your sentencing had been for about three years, maybe four, but you never left. You had chosen to stay since the first day you came, technically giving you a life sentence on your own will. So, if the other inmates know about the two of you – or well Writoehsley’s feelings – it could put your life in danger. There was a tick of silence again, something Wriothesley was rather fond of sometimes… like in this case. Yet, his eyes did not miss Sigewinne standing up from her chair and striding over to where you rested on the couch. There was a careful, cautious, way she held her hand out as she checked you.

“She’s still asleep,” Sigewinne noted.

And Wriothesley hummed in response, “I couldn’t tell.” Where was Sigewinne going with this, Wriothesley’s eyes narrowed slightly, though they were not harsh.

“Maybe she’s dreaming about you, Duke!”

Wriothesley is a hard man to crack. He was the Duke of the Fortress, a peacekeeper among the convicted, and yet sometimes when he was with you he couldn’t help but be that ever so lenient. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to confess to you after Sigewinne had come skipping into his office late one day while you were in her Medical Bay. It wasn’t uncommon, of course, being in the Fortress there were few people to speak to you with the kindness Sigewinne does; And you two often had conversations, even nights where you would have quote-on-quote sleepovers. Yet, today you went due to a headache. And, no less than an hour later, Sigewinne came skipping into his office like she had won the lottery – and Wriothesley half-entertained such a ridiculous thought. “What’s the good news, Nurse Sigewinne?” Wriothesley played along with her bubbly demeanor; Enjoying the change of pace from his slow, meticulous work which dragged on for hours on end. He swore to himself when he was half way done, he would go check on you, yet he was only a ¼. Luckily, seemingly, the news had been brought to him. “Well, they’re doing a lot better! It only appeared to be a headache due to not drinking enough water, but that tends to be normal.” Sigewinne reported as she came to a halt beside Wriothesley’s desk. “But, she also spoke rather colorfully about you!"

“Oh?” Wriothesley’s curiosity peaked, though a voice also nagged him about respecting your privacy. “Is that a good thing, or perhaps a bad thing, Nurse Sigewinne?” He knew she wouldn’t be able to tell him much, as there still was patient confidentiality, even in the Fortress. But, by the way Sigewinne’s face beamed and the way her hands animatedly rested upon her hip, he was sure she was about to tell him to shoot his shot… once again. He thought it was enough she had gotten the others to bug him about it, while also still placing stickers upon his back, but he couldn’t stay angered, or even annoyed, at them for long. Or at all. “I can’t say much, but I say you have a very good chance of landing her, Mr. Wriothesley!” Sigewinne beamed, and Wriothesley swore her smile went ear to ear.

Wriothesley was a private man, as private as one can get for being the Duke of a prison, yet you can always tell how he felt about a person from his actions. He was, and is, a man of few words … he always had been since you two were teenagers. And you never failed to take notice of it. Especially when he first began to give you some favor.

Of course, it was nothing too big, nor grand, when you were teenagers going onto young adults. It was small gestures that would brighten up your day ever so slightly more, like holding open the door for you or walking closer when a nasty group of inmates sent creepy looks your way. He had even gotten into a fight with one of them after they approached you. Wriothesley had walked away for a second, going to get you both your lunch, when he turned around to see the guy grabbing your arm. Seeing you wriggle and writhe under the man’s disgusting touch was more than enough for Wriothesley to send a nasty blow to the side of the guy’s head, which caused him to crack his head open on the floor below. It had been one of the few complications he had gotten into while at the Fortress, and he never regretted it. At least, that’s what he constantly told you and you had to believe his word. But, that event had been the first time that you felt some sort of pang in your heart regarding the, now, Duke; And it surely wasn’t the last. Especially after you were sure that Wriothesley was sending signals your way constantly by his small actions that always made you feel safer, closer, to him.

Yet, you had always had your own reservations on confessing to the Duke; Mostly having to do with where you came from, why you had left, and who was currently looking for you. You didn’t want Wriothesley, no matter how many times he defended you and said he would punch someone’s lights out if they messed with you, to get hurt because of the people you used to know. So you always waited for him to confess… and then tell him the dangers. But, day by day you compiled more and more reasons as to why Wriothesley might love you, and many more reasons why you loved him back. For one, he was a complete gentleman; To that, while he tended to be a little short and cold, he very much made it apparent that you could tell him anything, or even just lean on him if you needed. When you two walked, sometimes his hand would rest on the small of your back rather than your waist, and he would open the doors for you when you entered a building. Then there was the glares to the inmates who tried to mess with you, which was a little less fun to deal with, but a comfort nonetheless, and the visits to the Medical Bay he’d personally take to check up on your well being. There was, of course, a lot more that Wriothesley did that always made you feel special, more than you could ever count in a lifetime. And you were sure if things were different in your life you would have confessed to him long ago about the feelings that continuously welled in your chest, like a rapid river bashing against a dam begging to be freed yet never feeling such freedom. Man, wasn’t that poetic?

“Hey, we need to talk.” Wriothesley’s voice was like a net, catching your attention and bringing it to shore – bringing you back to the present moment and back to Wriothesley. You had been at lunch, having brought up your meal you bought with coupons up to Wriothesley’s office and was currently toying with it on his floor. You would usually be sitting on the couch, waiting for the Duke to spare some attention to you which he tended to grace you with more than others. (Seriously! You had watched Neuvillette have to sit and wait for about an hour or more to speak with the Duke as he finished up some paperwork. It was slightly painful). But, you decided to not test your luck that day and possibly stain Wriothesley’s couch with… whatever you were eating. Honestly, you were so lost in thought you had forgotten what they had served, and now looking at it, it was too much of a mess for your brain to piece together. “A talk? That’s never good,” The sly comment shortly dropped from your lips, a snicker across your face as you glanced up at the Duke. His arms were crossed in a somehow pensive and relaxed (you weren’t sure how that's feasible, but he made it work) fashion as he leaned back against his chair, having taken his eyes off of his work for the first time in a few hours. Unknown to you, he hadn’t been able to complete some of the papers that flooded his desk because his mind kept drifting back to you. You. God, you were so perfect in his eyes. Even if he logically knew that no one could be quote-on-quote perfect, he sometimes chose to ignore that fact for you. Only you, really.

“Nah, I think you’ll like this one,” Wriothesley continued, a chuckle present upon his lips that gave his stubble some light. When was the last time he shaved? The thought crossed your mind. You didn’t mind it, of course, you always enjoyed his stubble, it made him look more handsome in your eyes. But, even so, his looks weren’t enough to evade your skeptical side glance and the cock of your eyebrow. Even if Wriothesley snickered, knowing you had been checking him out a little; After all, he sometimes purposely lets his stubble grow out for you. Wriothesley was a man of few words, and even sometimes his words tended to fail him. So, there was a brief moment that his eyes lingered onto yours, and yours lingered right back to his. A beat, maybe even longer, before he stood from his desk and strided over to where you sat on the floor, kneeling down to your height. And, being so close, you could almost see all the words that were swirling in his head in his eyes; The regrets yet also momentums that wanted to pour out, yet he kept locked inside, as he reached a hand out and wiped a smug of food from your cheek. To others, his face might have seemed cold or indifferent, but you could tell there was some sort of attentiveness in his eyes that gave him away. It always had. And, just like Wriothesley, your own eyes and body always tended to give you away to him. The way your eyes crinkled ever so more when you laughed at one of his poorly delivered jokes. The way you always entertained the joke of Sigewinne being your shared child, much to her dismay, and the way you always naturally floated to his presence when he was in a room.

“You’re a horrible liar, you know that, right?” Wriothesley would tease, as a crinkle appeared in the corner of his eye. You knew what he was talking about and it made your heart flip. Both in a good way and a bad way. You would feel guilty putting Wriothesley into the fire that you had forged, which burnt down everything you had ever known beforehand. And yet, you were unaware that Wriothesley was equally as revered as confessing to you due to the likeness that the Fortress might become your shared home. He didn’t want that life for you as much as you didn’t want your life for him. And yet, despite that, Wriothesley was shooting his shot, as despite all the uncertainties that clouded both of your minds, there will still always be a shared affection for one another that wouldn’t fade easily, if ever. So, you snorted and confessed, “You’re not much better yourself, Duke.” Despite your mind screaming at you differently.

And, it was strangely peaceful to get that heavy weight off your chest, even if it felt like your heart was being crushed all the same. Though, if you were able to weather your own struggles with anyone, you know it would be with Wriothesley – in turn, Wriothesley knew that if push came to shove, you’ll be there to lend him the extra strength to deal twice the blow. And so it always felt right, in your hearts, for you two to be together. Yet, why did that new found heavyweight only grow heavier?

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slut4thebroken · 7 months

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Dad/stepdad finding your vibrator hcs

Tommy Shelby, Cillian Murphy, Raymond Leon, Jackson Rippner, Lenny Miller

(All accurate to the universe’s time period)

Tommy Shelby - To say he was shocked would be an understatement. At first he was concerned— were you suffering from hysteria and he didn’t even know? But then he remembered that vibrators have very recently started being used for more… personal activities. He confronted you about it anyway though. You blushed and stuttered out “I- I can explain..” and he found it amusing at first, but he kept his expression stern. It was when you broke down crying that he suddenly softened. “I’m sorry, daddy. Please don’t be mad..” You cried out, making him pull you into a hug and shush you, trying to calm you down. “I’m not mad, love.” He said gently. “Just… tell me what it’s for.. I promise I won’t be mad.” You looked up at him with wide, teary eyes to see if he was being truthful. When you found no sign of a lie, you whispered that you use it for self pleasure, which he already knew. He just wanted to hear you say it. He sighed and shook his head. “You think you’re old enough to be playing with adult toys like this?” He asked, and you muttered out an excuse of how you just turned 18. “Maybe so, but I still don’t think it’s appropriate at your age.” That triggered something inside of you and you whined about how you’re an adult and you can do what you want, acting far too bratty for his liking. “Is that so? An adult, are you?” He had a condescending smirk on his lips and he pretended to think it over, then scoffed a laugh. “Fine then. If you’re an adult I guess I should start punishing you like one.” His tone was noticeably darker now. “Get on the fucking bed.”

Cillian Murphy - He knew he should’ve ignored it, respected your privacy… But he just kept thinking about you using it. The pretty sounds you probably made, the way your cheeks probably became flushed… But then he started thinking about you using it with someone.. Did you have a secret boyfriend? Or were you exploring your sexuality all on your own… Deciding to do the responsible thing, he started planning out when and how to talk to you about all of these new things you may be feeling as a developing young woman. One day he sat down with you, gently told you what he knew and reassured you when you immediately became embarrassed. He told you that it was natural and nothing to be ashamed of… “A young girl like yourself needs someone to guide her, teach her what’s right and how to be safe.” He said softly, brushing your hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. “As your father, I’m afraid that role falls on me.” He tried not to seem too excited by the idea. Standing up, he walked over to where the toy was hidden and brought it back over to the bed, handing it to you. “I need to make sure you’re using it the right way. I’d hate for my little girl to get hurt.” He frowned, watching as your eyes widened. He didn’t let you protest as he helped removed your clothes and laid you down on the bed. “Now show me exactly how you’re using it, sweetheart.”

Raymond Leon - At first, he almost mistook it for something else, but when he did a double take, he realized what it actually was. A rush of emotions hit him, the main ones being anger, disappointment, and arousal. Were you turning into a whore? Did he do something wrong when raising you? When you came home one day, he was waiting on your bed, the vibrator next to him. You were immediately hit with a wave of embarrassment and humiliation- good. You started trying to defend yourself, saying it’s not what it looks like. “Don’t try to play innocent.” He scoffed. “Get over my fucking lap.” His voice was so harsh, it made you tear up as you begged him not to. So he roughly grabbed you and pulled you over his thighs, then flipped your skirt up. He spanked you until his hand was burning and there were little welts on your ass. You were sobbing loudly, the pain becoming too much, and with the way you kept squirming and rubbing against his cock, he eventually got hard. He forced the vibrator between your legs, making you apologize for your whorish behavior as you came over and over again until he was satisfied. “Get on your knees.” He demanded and you slid off his lap to the floor, still sobbing and almost hyperventilating from the overwhelming pleasure. “There are consequences for acting like a whore.” He spat, quickly opening his pants to free his cock, making your breath catch in your throat. “So, be a good girl for once and finish what you started.”

Jackson Rippner - He had been trying so hard to be a good father figure- god knows you desperately needed it. But as soon as he found a vibrator hidden away (very poorly) in one of your drawers, he just lost all control. He managed to wait a few days until it was only the two of you in the house, then confronted you. This wasn’t his proudest moment… but he didn’t regret it. “What would your mom think, huh?” He asked, subtly threatening you. “I would hate to have to tell her… but maybe we can work something out.” He said coyly, enjoying the way you blushed and squirmed and pouted. He made you beg for it, for his cock and for him to not tell your mom. Once he had you underneath him with his cock fully sheathed in your little cunt, he practically plowed into you until you cried. “This is your own fault.” He hissed. “The only reason this is happening is because you teased me by leaving it somewhere for me to find.” You sobbed harder and shook your head, unable to do anything else to protest. “You’ve been a fucking tease since day one with those tiny little shirts and the skirts that barely cover your ass… I’m fucking sick of it.” He growled, getting more worked up. “From now on, you’re gonna let me use this cunt whenever I want, or I’ll tell your mom about your little secret, and how you seduced me and begged me to fuck you.”

Lenny Miller - You should’ve known better than to think you could hide things from him. Just like you should’ve known better than to think you could lie to him. But when he confronted you, you denied it. Which he figured you might do… That’s why he set up a camera in your room, hidden in a vent but angled perfectly at your bed. The quality was not the best, but it was good enough to still obviously show what you were doing. He can’t even count the amount of times he came to that footage of you. When you tried lying, he sighed and reached for the remote, already having the tape ready in the tv. The second it turned on, you lips parted in shock and your face paled, then a very dark blush took over your cheeks. “There are a few different ways this can go. Option one: the camera stays up and you can keep the vibrator. Option two: I punish you, then confiscate it, but I’ll take down the camera.” He paused, lowering his voice into something darker and thick with arousal. “Or option three: you show me just how sorry you are for owning something like this. I’m still going to punish you, but if you do a good enough job begging, I might just let you keep it.” He said coyly. He waited impatiently for you to choose and when you couldn’t get any words out, still glancing at the tv, he chose for you. He spanked you until you cried and made you suck his cock to prove you were sorry, then forced you to ride him while you begged for his forgiveness.

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cameronspecial · 5 months

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I wanted to ask if you could write something with rafe where reader does selfharm and he finds out? Maybe with a soft version of rafe

Not Going Anywhere

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: SELF-HARM and Talks of DEPRESSION (Please don't read if these are a trigger).

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.1K

A/N: If you or anyone you know are experiencing depression, then please know you are not alone and there are people who can help. The internet has information on the best places for you to go to in your country. Not tagging anyone just in case this is a trigger for anyone on my tag list.

Masterlist

It isn’t for attention. That is one assumption most people make whenever they see the scars. It’s the reason why she hides them on her hips. She doesn’t have to worry about anyone seeing it because no one sees her naked, not even her boyfriend. The only times the marks see the light of day are when she changes or showers. She makes sure the cuts made can be hidden by her underwear and any panties or bikini bottoms she buys need to pass that test as well.

No matter how wrong she knows it is, she can’t help but hold the cold sharp blade against the tough skin. It is resting on top of a barely healing scar because she has no other place for it. Her breath hitches as she pulls the Exacto knife across her, going a little farther than the mark already made. Tears are running down her face. Her eyes blur as she repeats the motion below the blooming red line. Her breath is uneven and hitches every time the metal touches her skin. In some sick way, the pain gives her a small relief. It gives her a reason.

Most people wonder why someone would cause harm to themselves. They would guess that the despair is caused by a lack of food, shelter, money, clothes or love. However, Y/N doesn’t have that issue. How could she when she is a kook? No, she has never felt hunger or fear and that is the cause of the turmoil inside of her head. Nonetheless, ever since she entered teenhood, she would experience these months-long periods of extreme sadness. She would do her best to hide them from everyone by pushing herself to get out of bed and go to activities that she would normally enjoy. She would make sure to cry when no one else was at home and to track her family members’ phones to verify she was alone. It was a secret she kept so deep within her that she started to question why she felt this way. That is when the true problems began. She felt guilty for feeling this despair without a reason and it was furthered by the secrets she had to keep, so she began to self-harm as her reason. In her brain, partly because of what society has told her, she needed a reason for why she was melancholy because there are people in the world who were dealt much tougher times in life.

So, that is how she finds herself standing in front of the mirror, holding down the right side of her underwear and dragging an Exacto knife along her skin. She has fallen into one of her episodes and this time, it is the worst one to date. She has never pressed so hard into her skin with the blade. It has never bled this much. She curses as the blood begins to seep into the cotton of her underwear. Her attention is on stopping the red from staining her clothes, so she doesn’t hear the front door open.

Rafe whistles whilst he uses his copy of the key to open Y/N’s front door. People thought it was too early when they exchanged house keys after only six months of dating. They didn’t though. It felt like the next step when she told him that she was saving herself for marriage. They found a different way to reach a new level of intimacy and it worked for them. Her house is eerily quiet and dark. Normally, she keeps the hallway lights on when she is home and if she is watching TV/listening to music, it is so loud that it could make a deaf person hear. He doesn’t let the lack of normality stop him from making his way to her bedroom, thinking nothing that her door is closed. He uses the doorknob to push it open and he is surprised to see her standing in front of the mirror with her hands pressing against her hip. It takes him a second to process that blood stains her hand. His shock turns to worry as he rushes to her side. He trips over something in his attempt to get to her and looks down to see a bloody Exacto knife, like the kind she uses to cut things for her art. He kicks it away and removes her hand from her side. He curses at the amount of blood. This needs stitches.

“My love, what happened?” he asks, hoping the theory he has isn’t true. He sees the tears running down her face and the way her mouth opens and closes. She has no idea how to answer. The hiccups of her crying make it even harder. Instead of waiting for an answer, Rafe washes his hands and gets the first aid kit in her bathroom. He uses the bandage wrap inside it to catch the blood, instructing her to use it to apply pressure whilst he guides her to his car. The drive to the hospital is silent.

———

Y/N told the medical practitioner the truth as to how she got the cuts and scars. She couldn’t lie with Rafe in the room. He had offered to step out, except she asked him to stay. She was tired of lying. It only added to her exhaustion. Y/N didn’t have to say much before the doctor excused herself to get a hospital psychiatrist. Rafe said nothing as she described the anguish she felt. He felt a sharp stab to his heart at every word she said, criticizing himself for not seeing the mental pain his girlfriend was in.

With the doctor gone, he speaks up. “Is there anything I can do right now that can help you feel more comfortable?” She appreciates that he doesn’t assume that there is an easy fix to this or that at the moment there is something quick he can do to make her feel better. His focus on her comfort causes a flutter in her stomach. She nods, “Can you just hold me?” He joins her on the hospital bed and pulls her to his side. The buzz of the lights is the sole thing that can be heard for a while. “This isn’t your fault,” she clarifies, concerned that he might think it. He kisses her temple, “I know. Thank you for trusting me enough to be in the room when you told the doctor what happened. This isn’t your fault either and you are so brave for asking for help. If you want, I will be here to help you every step of the way.” A different kind of relief comes over her. She feels a glimmer of hope that she doesn’t have to do this alone. “I want you here,” she whispers, pressing her face into his side. “Then I’m not going anywhere.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader

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milkywaydrabbles · 1 year

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19/21 and 26 with........Haitani's!?!?!??! 🫣🫣🫣

I just can't stop thinking of them 😩😩

A/N: It was a little hard for me to start this one ngl, I was unsure how I'd be able to write the brothers sharing like THIS but I guess it's okay. I hope you enjoy it!! I brought the exhibitionsim out more with the enjoyment of being recorded instead of a public setting or someone else actively watching (the ending also kind of ties back into it) ANYWAYS MWUAH

Double penetration (one hole)/threesome/exhibitionism x Haitani Ran, Haitani Rindou

“Ran you fuck--didn’t you ever learn how to share?” The younger Haitani snarled, shoving the older brother away from you. “It’s my turn.”

You don’t know how you got in between them--two of the most dangerous men in the entire country. You’ve heard stories of the terrors they got into when they were younger in Roppongi, how they climbed the ranks through different gangs, how they ended up as executives for the nastiest crime syndicate on this side of the world. It should terrify you, really, how you’ve gotten yourself tied up with these men. They could throw you away in an instant, kill you if you looked at them wrong--make you disappear from the life you know and use you as a drug mule. A thousand things can go wrong.

And yet, you can’t help but smile whenever you’re with them.

You landed a job as a bartender in one of their clubs, normal job for the most part. You’d go in, do a bit of flirting, fight off a few way too drunk guys, and go home. You had no idea you’d been being watched for the better part of three weeks by the brothers themselves. You didn’t know what kind of place the club was until well after they formally introduced themselves as the co-owners, the Haitani brothers. Even then, you treated them the same way you’ve treated any other boss-with respect, but minimal interactions (as best you could, anyways.) They liked that, how you didn’t try to get money out of them, or sleep with them. They liked to keep it playful with their staff, but the women (and men!) would throw themselves immediately and it was such a turn off--Rindou would usually fire them the night after. They kept showing up at the clubs during your shifts, keeping a close eye on you. Ran started becoming bold and flirting with you on the job, which you brushed off as best you could.

It wasn’t until an unruly patron tried to grab you after your shift that the men really intervened with you, Ran pulling you close into his chest to shield you (kind of) as Rindou pulled the trigger between the pig’s eyes and called in a cleaning crew to get rid of the body. It was then that you understood who they were, who really owned the club. They steadied themselves to hear grating screaming come from you, girls were usually scared after seeing something like that. Instead, you wrapped your arms around Ran tight, gripping at the back of his shirt and letting out a shaky ‘thank you’ before steadying yourself and (attempting) to go home for the night.

They hadn’t left you alone since.

And now you find yourself caught in between them most nights after your shift, in one of their beds. Tonight was different, you’ve noticed, because Ran started pulling out his phone and setting it up on the dresser across from the bed. “Mind if we record it, pretty girl?” His voice always sent shivers down your spine. “Go ahead-” your voice came out shakier than you hoped, hearing the younger brother attached to your neck chuckle. “Already so worked up, baby, barely even started.” He teased, kissing and biting at the juncture of your shoulder, fingers dipping underneath the band of your underwear. You whimpered, fingers combing through his wild locks and tugging at the root, bringing him up from your neck enough to press your lips against his--all tongue and teeth as he bit down on your lower lip leaving you breathless. He took the opportunity of your parted lips to shove his tongue in your mouth, licking at your own. You tried to keep up with his overwhelming pace, suckling on the tip of his tongue making him groan. “Fuuck baby, got so lucky with you didn’t we?” Rindou’s voice was ragged, much different than the smoothness of Ran’s--his was nearly scratchy in the best way possible. It made your hair stand up on the back of your neck. His hands came up to your throat, one wrapping around the back while the other grasped at your lower jaw, keeping you attached to him. You felt two taps on your ass cheek, and hands prying your underwear lower until it hit your knees. “Come on pretty, help me out and take these off.” Ran joined in, and you lifted each knee one at a time off the bed to let him remove the clothing fully. Your hands clawed at Rindou’s chest, trying to keep yourself afloat as the elder Haitani pressed open mouth kisses on your shoulder blades, trailing to your back. “Don’t think we can ever let you go, sweet girl.” Ran mumbled against your skin, raking his nails over the fronts of your thighs towards your weeping cunt. You broke away from Rindou enough to gasp for breath, nose to nose when you let out a small cry at the feeling of Ran’s hand slapping at your clit.

Your lower half jolted away from the stimulation, but when Ran pressed himself against your back you had no choice but to take each smack he gave you. “Gotta take everything I give you, angel. Now be good for me, yeah?” Two fingers suddenly shoved themselves deep into your pussy, and Rindou had pressed his lips back to yours to muffle your cries. Even after all the times you’ve been in their beds, their fingers are a stretch to begin with. You’re dripping wet, but his fingers are so long they hit so deep. Ran starts off slow, sucking hickies into your shoulders and neck as he finger fucks you, smiling against your skin when he feels you fucking yourself back onto him. “There you go, beautiful~” He coos, scissoring his fingers inside of you rubbing at your walls so good. Your closed eyes open to look at Rindou in front of you, eyes already wild as he watches you meet each thrust of his brother’s fingers. A hand traveled lower from your jaw to grasp fully at your throat, fingers wrapping around and squeezing. “You can take some more, right baby?” Your eyes fluttered, barely able to nod while he was holding onto you like this, mouth dropping open.

Rindou pressed his thumb against your nub, unable to move you had no choice but to take the stimulation--spit pooling at the corners of your mouth the same way tears did in your eyes. “R-Rindou-aah, please” You begged, though your brain couldn’t conceptualize why. A harsh smack to your ass left you squealing. “I’m here too, pretty.” You could hear the jealousy in Ran’s voice, and you knew you were right when you saw Rindou smirking. “Do better and maybe she won’t forget.” A slew of curses left Ran’s mouth before smacking at your ass again. “S-sorry! I’m sorry, Ran, I didn’t forget--honest.” You whimpered, doing your best to turn away from Rindou and crane your neck to look at Ran over your shoulder. “Aw, I know sweetheart. Gimme a kiss.” You occupied yourself with kissing Ran, who kissed you much slower than his counterpart. While Rindou was a wildfire, Ran was like flowing water. He kissed you slow and steady, taking his time to lick at your mouth and taste you. While Rindou was overwhelming, Ran was dizzying. Regardless of who was on you at any moment, they made you feel just as good.

Ran kept you distracted enough for Rindou to push his ring and middle finger into your cunt alongside his brother’s fingers--filling you and stretching more than they had in the past. “Oh fuck” You breathed out, trying yout best to keep up with Ran but Rindou was shoving himself into you so harshly already it was difficult to breathe. Rindou’s fingers were thicker than the elder brother, filling you up as Ran’s fingers hit deep. Ran let you go, and you turned down to see Rindou’s fingers pumping in and out of you, juices oozing onto his fingers with each fuck. Your forehead hit his chest, a hand reaching back and grasping at Ran’s wrist for some sick form of grounding--spreading your legs more to give them easier access to your sloppy pussy. “S’this feel good, baby?” Rindou questioned, curling his fingers towards that gummy spot in your cunt. “A-ah, yeah, fuck, yeah” You whimpered, clenching around their sets of fingers. Ran laughed behind you, “Yeah? Like when we fuck you with our fingers, angel? You want more?” Nodding against Rindou’s chest, they removed their fingers from your cunt--creaminess covering their hands. “Look at that~” Ran whistled, making a show of spreading his fingers and letting your stickiness web between them. He turned your head towards the camera, and the brother’s chuckled seeing how fucked out you looked in the camera. “Lick ‘em clean, beautiful.” Ran spoke first, presenting his fingers in front of your face as you greedily sucked at them, taking them deep into your mouth to the knuckle and making sure you sucked them clean. You watched yourself in the front camera lapping at his digits, clenching your pussy around air. When Ran pulled his fingers out you immediately turned to Rindou and stuck your tongue out--expectantly. “What a good girl you are” He teased, shoving his fingers into your mouth until you gagged, and turned you to face the camera again. “Go ahead baby.” Stray tears fell down your cheeks as you licked around his spread fingers tasting yourself on him.

Ran moved off the bed to bring the phone closer, now on the night stand as he laid down, bringing you with him. You understood immediately what he wanted, and lined yourself up to his cock as he filmed you lowering yourself. He bit his tongue holding back a moan while your pretty sounds filled the air, steadying yourself on his chest before your arms are ripped back behind you. “Come on baby, you can do it right?” Rindou taunted, kissing at your shoulders while you kept a steady pace bouncing on Ran’s cock. The older brother had the camera right at your hole, watching the way your pussy swallowed him up and drooled around the corners with your juices. His free hand held onto your hip, Rindou pulling you back to lean more against him as Ran started meeting each bounce on his lap with a thrust of his own, a webbing of white covering his dick each time he pulled out. “Fuck baby, look so good taking my cock. You think you can take another one?” You weren’t sure you understood, and before you had time to think more about the question the phone was placed back down on the stand and Rindou pushed you towards the other, Ran grabbing at your face and making a scene of kissing you sloppy in view of the camera. “Look at yourself, pretty baby.” He whispered against your ear, holding you by the jaw towards the camera when you started feeling Rindou prodding at your already stretched out cunt with his own cock. Your eyes squeezed closed with your brows scrunched, mouth hanging open as he pushed himself into your hole alongside Ran. “Ooh my god, fuck! S’much, wait--wait it’s so much!” You cried out, Ran slapping you lightly on your cheek to get your attention.

“Open your eyes, pretty girl. Look at yourself while you get fucked by us.” Your eyes were fuzzy, unable to fully focus as you watched yourself drool, tongue lolling out and tears rolling down your cheeks as Rindou filled you inch by inch. You should be embarrassed, feel shame as they made you watch yourself like this--being used by two dangerous men. But you couldn’t feel anything except turned on, looking at your own reflection drooling and crying uncontrollably on their cocks filling you more than they ever have. You subconsciously tightened your walls around them, and their groans filled the air. “Fuck! So fucking horny watching yourself, huh baby?” Rindou snickered, leaning over and angling the camera to your lower bodies, pulling you up for a clear angle of both cocks pumping in and out of your pussy. Just like you did Ran’s, Rindou’s cock was covered in your creamy cunt, squelching and gushing with each pap, pap, pap of their cocks fucking up into you. You couldn’t do much but take it, sobbing with overwhelming pleasure as they used you like a sleeve. Rindou’s fingers came around your front to rub and pinch at your swollen nub, and in no time he had you crying out and creaming over them, each push in and pull out of their cocks leaving with a squish. Ran’s hands had a strong grip on your hips as he fucked up into you, and last minute pulling out to cum on your tummy, painting your front white with his cum.

With only Rindou now inside your cunt he quickened his pace and fucked you harder, tugging at your biceps and pulling your arms back as leverage. Ran moved the phone again, for full access to your body and face as the younger brother left you a mess. “Ready for me, baby?” He grunted behind you and you nodded with a sob, suddenly feeling him leave your pussy and make a mess on your ass, grabbing the phone from his brother and recording him slap his cock on your ass, smearing his mess around. Giving the phone back, Ran recorded up to your face now. “Smile at the camera, pretty girl.” Panting, you looked up at yourself again in the phone, lazy smile playing on your lips--fucked stupid. Ran scooped his cum on a finger while you were still watching yourself and lifted it to your mouth, watching you lick him clean and sticking your tongue out as proof.

He stopped the recording and Rindou lowered you onto the bed, mumbling to himself how ‘gross’ it was to share a hole like that with his brother. “Whatever dude--she felt good.” Ran called over to the younger Haitani as he left to grab something to wipe you down with. “You good, baby?” He whispered to you, smoothing down your hair as you nodded with a smile. He fiddled with his phone as Rindou wiped you clean, kissing your forehead and praising how good of a job you did for them. His phone pinged, before Ran spoke saying “Sent it to you.” When he finally took a look he saw it was in the group chat they had with Sanzu, snapping his head up to look at his brother who already had a grin like the devil and shrugged.

“Oops.”

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wandixx · 7 months

Text

Ghost of fries and Hero of cookies part 3

All work words count: 14 643

Words in this part: 3 056

Summary of whole work: Duke wasn't expecting to wake up from his quick rooftop nap to some meta kid with fries. He also wasn't expecting kid to stay

Danny asked Dani to stay safe while she was in Gotham. Where would she be safer than under the wing of local hero? And he looked like he needed bad day combo anyway

This part summary: Joker goons are in for an orange surprise and Duke does not like it in the slightest

Beta read by @audhumla-sailor though English is second language for both of us, so proceed with this in mind. I also know all of the charaters through fics alone, so probably ooc. Stay catious if it's something you don't like

First part, Previous part

trigger warnings: gun violence, panic attacks, dissociation, mentions of Joker gas and what it doeas to people (tell me if i missed something, I'll add it)

Duke was having quite a good day. His schoolwork finally got lighter and up until now nothing notable happen on his patrol. Obviously, couldn’t have Gotham without at least one mugging and bank and corner shop robbery. About the last thing, if it was chain store he would conveniently arrive too late to stop it and just follow up to make sure cashier didn’t get fired. He used to be intimately close with hardships of getting necessary supplies like food or gas masks while corporate assholes were trying to suck people dry. But it was family business so he actually had to step in. He did mention secure way of getting resources to would be robbers though. All in all, not so bad, pretty good day. As for now, he was swinging on grapple to meet with Dani, armed with healthy snack Alfred demanded he took for her when he got texted on his Signal-work-phoneTM. It meant important business 90% of the time, so he stopped to check it out. Other 10% were memes from Dani that usually were worth it anyway.

Got it in one, Hoopoe texted. He opened chat expecting funny video or something instead to be greeted by:

Dani: Hey Signal

Dani: Peple aint spossedf t get out f Arkham

Dani: Amirite?

His stomach dropped. He wished it was hypothetical question but he knew better than to believe such fantasies. Things didn’t go so well in Gotham, especially not with Hoopoe.

You: Yeah, your right. What’s up?

You: You’re*

Dani: Nerd

Dani: Whatre you’re thots on clowns

Dani: ?

His stomach officially landed at his feet and decided it wasn’t enough dropping and ended up on a street below. Even if Joker was still locked up, his goons being active were bad news.

You: Where are you?

You: Hoopoe, where are you?

Dani: Clm dow I ned to chek

Dani: I have ni ieda

Dani: The box building rod

Dani: roof*

Dani: Warehouse?

Dani: That the wors

Dani: I think

You: There are over 1000 warehouses in Gotham

Dani: Idk wht yu want me totll yu

Dani: Therere other warehous arond?

You: Okay

You: Check corners for symbol and number

Back in the day everyone other than Bruce decided to take part in a challenge to count all of the warehouses in Gotham manually. They each got their sector and graffiti spray to mark counted buildings. Later it kinda turned into a way of identifying them.

Dani: Red blb with too wite dots

Dani: #83

Okay, he wasn’t too far. He risked roof hopping and checking texts to make sure she didn’t try anything stu-

Dani: Im goin in

You: No!

You: Stay where you are!

You: Hoopoe!

Dani: Calm down worrywart

Dani: Jus wante ti get ab look

Dani: Invisible

Dani: M not dump

I doubt it

You entered building with Joker’s goons with no back-up or plan. It’s extremely dangerous

Dani: Yeah, yeah don care

Dani: 5 goons in clown masks

Dani: Maks idk wat of

Dani: Not northern hemisphere of sky for sure

Dani: Weird containter s

Dani: Ari smells funny

Dani: Giggly i guess

Dani: U prbl know better

You: Get out of there

You: NOW!

You: Try not breathing it in

Dani: K

Dani: Ill stop brething then

You: GET OUT!

Dani: K

Dani: Why so agressive

Because Duke knew what Joker gas could do to person. He knew how it took wonderful people (like his parents) and left shells wand shadows of who they used to be. Because every gas release left him with panic attack. Because he knew it was more dangerous than even some vigilantes thought it was.

You: Wait until I get there

Dani: K

He almost tripped with how much he tried to speed up.

Dani was actually vibrating when he arrived but stayed quiet. Good. If she breathed in some Joker gas it wasn’t working dose yet. Duke had deep feeling not even Alfred’s cookies would be enough to deter her from entering. Offering her a granola bar he sat at the edge of the roof with bone deep sigh. Girl took snack eagerly, bouncing around like puppy high on caffeine.

“How about we take a note of this happening and get going? Other Bats are better equipped to deal with this,” They weren’t but he didn’t want Dani anywhere near this mess. He himself didn’t want to be anywhere near it either.

Kid got deadly still, staring at him as if she could read his deepest secrets if she looked hard enough.

“They’re scaring you” she whispered with strong feeling but Duke had trouble reading what feeling was it. He put his face in his hands for a moment. How was he even supposed to answer that?

“Joker is one of the most dangerous people in Gotham and these guys are working for him. They have guns. Of course I’m a little scared”

Judging by the face Dani made, she wanted to call him out on his bullshit but thought better of it. She floated to sit next to him, swallowing granola in few bites.

“My friend Johnny mentioned him,” she started between chewing ”he said ‘bastard murdered my baby bro Jay and Jay knew his way in fight, stay away from him Dani’. Normally Johnny isn’t so careful”

“All more reasons to leave it for others!” Duke almost shouted, hope growing in his chest. Maybe he could steer her away from it!

“He also told me to hit him if I happen to meet him. He would owe me ‘big one’ then. Do you think I could get ‘small one’ for couple of goons?!”

“Hoopoe no!”

Girl looked thoughtful and after over two weeks of working together he learned to fear this expression.

“Whatever you’re thinking, no. I’ll buy you biggest fries, just leave this–” he waved vaguely at the warehouse hoping it would get message across “–whole mess alone” There was lump in his throat.

Dani haven’t abandon whatever thought got her like that and nodded to herself few time. She drifted around a bit, shifted under her way too long cloak and finally settled with a soft smile.

“You’re scared… Terrified. You’re terrified of them,” she started calmly, like she would talk to a victim if she actually knew how to do it ”It’s okay. It’s great. Fear is what keeps humans alive,” she nodded as if she recounted something from textbook properly in front of the class “But I’m not scared and I fought people much stronger than them and I’m even better now thanks to you. If you’re so terrified, it means they need to be dealt with and it needs to be done fast. It’s okay,” her grin from soft turned devilish “I was itching for some fun fight anyway”

“Dani-”

“It’ll be quick, I promise,” she said, serious again “Don’t worry,” she stood up, saluted and fell through the roof, all too fast to react or not miss it with a blink. Frankly, it caught Duke so off guard he couldn’t even move for a few seconds after the whole ordeal anyway. He threw himself down to the nearest window as soon as he regained control over his body. His heart was stuck in his throat.

Dani tackled first goon with delighted giggle right when he crashed inside. He checked if his mask was secure on reflexes he plummeted towards the ground, moving his body to land safely on top of the shelf. Warehouses were weird place to fight. Easy to get vantage point like Duke just did but was also hard in a way. Little space made it hard to use wider streaks, easy get backed into corner. Annoying more than anything.

Dani’s wrestling match was so attention grabbing that nobody even looked at Duke, despite his far from subtle arrival. He threw himself forward when he caught telltale shine of the gun in one of goons hands. It was dumb move when Dani was so close to his ally, but who he was to criticize Joker goon’s live choices. It didn’t take Signal long to understand he wouldn’t make it on time. He had to but there was no-

Two gunshots rang in rapid succession split second before Duke got to the goon and, with swiftness granted only by adrenaline and fury people got when someone their got hurt, knocked man out cold. Before body could hit the ground he spun around to see the damage because Dani still refused to wear any armor and from this close goon would have to be Storm Trooper to miss her. Because she was most likely bleeding heavily. What if they hit something instantly lethal?

He faced a fight right in time to see Dani jumping at another goon also openly wielding a gun. He wanted to yell at her but bullets were fired before he got a chance. He looked for blood dripping from her torso while dodging another man barely taking his eyes off Dani.

“That wasn’t nice,” she sounded like she pouted! At being shot! “If I was anyone else I would be seriously hurt right now, you know?” her voice was somewhat off. Like it wasn’t quite made by her vocal cords but some awkward voice generator.

Before the appalled man could react, he got technically not too good right hook to the jaw. It was strong enough to make him unconscious and get quite loud creak out of his neck. Duke hoped Dani didn’t mess up the guy's spine. He was criminal but he didn’t deserve this type of treatment.

Duke focused back on his own fight when he made sure that girl wasn’t in immediate danger of dying. He dodged running goon again, who literally ran himself into the shelf because of that. Signal used his short confusion to hit him in the side of his neck, rendering the opponent unconscious. Okay, they made it, this was the last-

Another gunshot made his sped-up heart skip a beat. Lump in his throat suffocated him.

No, no, no, no, no-

“I shot you in the face!”

He looked her way ready to see unmoving body and red decorating concrete floor.

“There was a good quip for- oh right” she started cheerfully, entirely unharmed, before her face twisted into something actually demonic.

“Y̶o̸u̵r̵ ̶p̵e̶s̴k̶y̵ ̴l̷i̷t̶t̸l̶e̸ ̵b̷u̸l̴l̴e̶t̷s̵ ̴w̸o̴n̵'̸t̵ ̵h̶u̵r̶t̸ ̸m̷e̶, ₥ØⱤ₮₳Ⱡ₴”

She laughed in distinctly Dani way, all bright and joyful while also so not like herself, distorted and echoey it mage hairs at the back of his neck stand.

Duke froze when goon fired again and there was no way she dodged it. There was not enough space. She had to get shot. She got shot and he did nothing to stop it. A child got hurt because of him-

He looked at but hadn’t quite seen how Dani knocked out last goon and flew up to him. He heard her voice but words were impossible to understand over rush of blood in his ears. He could tell she was laughing. They should get out. Dani mentioned giggly smell in the air. It had to mean Joker gas. They needed to be out yesterday.

He stumbled a bit, forcing his leg to cooperate, half caring, half dragging girl to the nearest exit point. Fact that he could touch her and didn’t feel any blood was grounding a bit.

“-gnal, Signal are you okay? Your heart is beating weird,” Dani asked, sounding a bit scared for the first time today. Duke’s brain felt too fuzzy to care “Signal, you’re freaking out, calm down, please”

Light assaulted their eyes the moment they were out. Before he got fully used to it, he set girl in front of him and detached her cape. She may have squawked at this action but he didn’t care. She was shot, he needed to check her for injuries.

She got shot, she got shot, she got shot-

“Signal what-” he was clearly freaking her out “Oh. You think I’m hurt. I told you I could handle it. I’m fine. Signal I’m really fine. I have intangibility, bullets can’t hurt me. I’m fine Signal”

Duke wanted to make sure. Adrenaline or simple wish to not worry him could make her ignore something. He couldn’t let her. He made her turn maybe a little to roughly.

He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if she bled out.

She was actually fine.

Relief hit him so strong he crumbled against the wall, his mind finally succumbing to the haze. It was fine. It was all actually fine.

He may have heard some yelling.

Next thing he registered was something tad too warm, almost burning his palms. His gloves did their job of protection well though. There was a herbal smell. Melissa, he registered after a moment. It took him some more time to realize that the source of the smell was in his hands. He had scathingly hot cup of melissa in his hands. He stared at a little bit squashed paper again trying to get used to the light. He didn’t even realize he closed his eyes. Sound of the paper bag made him look up where Dani, still without her cape, crouched few feet away from him.

“You back?” she asked cautiously. Duke wasn’t sure how to answer. He was and he wasn’t. His mouth didn’t work anyway. He shrugged, mindful of the cup in his hands. Blanket, he didn’t even know he was wrapped in, fell from one of his shoulders.

“I don’t know what happened but Jazz likes this tea when she needs to calm down. Though she usually needs to drink it to make it work,” Dani rambled, gesturing widely “You’re still breathing kinda funny, can you slow down? It’s not good for humans to breathe so fast. It doesn’t let good stuff from air get in your blood and travel around your body and it’s not healthy. I know, Jazz told me and she is really smart. She wants to be this doctor who stabs brain back into working. She had this smart word for it… Neurosurgeon, I think it’s this one. She said breathing like that is not good for brain so slow down? In for four, out for four? I don’t know, Signal, just calm down?”

Right, he still was hyperventilating. Duke focused on his lungs, forcing them to expand, trying to match up Dani’s slightly gasping breaths.

He really was freaking her out, wasn’t he?

Melissa was almost lukewarm by the time he was back in his body enough to drink it. It was sweet, a bit too much for his taste.

“You good now?” Dani asked and Duke nodded. He was as good as he could at the moment “Great, I didn’t want to leave you for too long so I don’t have BatBurger. I got cookies though. And I can go get it now”

“Don’t,” he caught her arm and squeezed, not sure why he did it himself.

“Huh?”

“Don’t go anywhere”

“Sure. Wanna cookie? I have chocolate chips and healthy, wheat ones”

“Chocolate”

“Okay” she nodded and fixed blanket on his arms. It was comfy. If Duke was firing on all cylinders, he would wonder where she got it.

“Don’t ever do it again”

“What is it though?”

“Jumping into danger like that”

“Oh, really? It wasn’t that dangerous, they were normal humans”

“They had Joker gas and guns”

“Intangibility means I can ignore bullets Signal, don’t be such worrywart. It’s bad for your health. What’s Joker gas?”

Question and the whole statement felt so surreal that Duke couldn’t help but laugh, choked and hysterical as it was. She didn’t know what Joker gas was. Worrying about her getting shot was bad for his health. He just had a panic attack and was comforted by a ten years old girl with cookies and melissa. What the fuck?

“Hey!” Dani pouted “Don’t laugh like that! Jazz always says that you shouldn’t laugh when someone doesn’t know something, just explain it to them! Signal!” she whined but the damn broke he couldn’t rear his hysteria back in “Alright, I’m Googling it”

She did as Duke’s laughter winded down. He was almost calm when she deemed her research enough.

“Alright, this is some nasty shit”

This sentence startled him into full silence. Dani was ten, swearing wasn’t something she did, like, ever. He must’ve scared her a lot.

“I’m fine though. I didn’t breathe it in. Did you? This laughter sounded a bit worrying to be honest”

“I’m okay, I had gas mask. People sometime laugh to release tension”

“Oh”

“Yeah. But you were in the building with it and didn’t have gas mask”

“I wasn’t breathing”

“You were talking”

“Our fucked up biology, as Danny likes to put it, means that one doesn’t mean another. I just don’t use it often because humans find it uncanny and my throat gets itchy after some time”

Something in Duke wanted to argue more but it was squashed but utter exhaustion that crashed him.

“Alright”

They sat for a long moment.

“Are you ready to patrol now?”

Duke would laugh again if he had any energy left.

“I think we should end for today. I would be useless like that”

“Okay, valid. You go home I’ll fly around a bit”

“No. You’re going home too. I don’t have enough emotional energy to worry about you getting into some mess like this again”

They stared at each other for a long moment before Dani looked away with angry huff.

“Okay. You’re worse than Danny, you know?”

“I don’t care. Go home and stay safe”

“You sure you will be alright if I go now? I can walk or fly you somewhere, not home if you don't want me to but maybe somewhere closer?”

“I’ll be fine. I can call my brother. Just go please”

“Sure. See you tomorrow, Signal. You were really brave today”

“Thank you, Hoopoe” If she answered, he didn’t hear her. He fumbled with his comm to turn it on with still shaky hands. Finally he managed and called a pick up in the form of Jason. It was great to have older brother who always had time like that. Even if it meant a lot of unnecessary questions about what happened Duke wasn’t up to answering it yet and threats of serious violence on his enemies.

Duke couldn't force himself to let go of the orange blanket. It was grounding.

Though Alfred made him hot chocolate with marshmallows. He wouldn’t repeat today for that, but it certainly was nice accent.

*********

"Humouristic" summary of this part

Dani: Yo, there are goons here. Gonna investigate.

Duke: *quietly freaks out*

Random Joker's goons: *do normal goon things*

Dani: *attacks them* HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Duke: Is this what minor heart attack feels like?

Goons: *start shooting*

Duke: Is this what major heart attack feels like?

Dani: Dude, you good? Here, get some tea, cookies and blanket

Dani, few hours later, texting: Hey Signal, remeber to bring back my cape tmrw

Duke, internally: Wait, this is her cape?

Duke, also texting: Wanna better one? Like Spoiler has?

Dani, somehow conveing Ghost Speak via text: Don't you dare

Thank you for reading this <3

Next part

#dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dp x dc #dani hangs out with duke #signal got new sidekick and he doesn't even know it yet #well that's not true anymore #signal got new sidekick and he starts to accept it #i don't have anything “funny” to put in the tags for this part #sorry guys #vibes aren't right #heads up #next part won't be fun prone too #more hurt/comfort territory #but then were back to fluff and fun #hoopoe's cape-shock blanket #wandixx writes #ghost of fries and hero of cookies #have a nice day dear stranger who got to this part

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xaldalneir · 2 years

Text

Spoilers for Gundam: The Witch from Mercury Episode 12

Hi Tumblr! So, I’m breaking, like, a FIVE YEAR bout of silence and shit, but I can’t just sit quiet about this one. Witch from Mercury has been one of the best Gundam Series I’ve had the pleasure of watching. Today, the last episode of this cour ended on a heavy note. Now the majority of takes that I’ve seen have been saying that Suletta was either totally cavalier in what she did to Nameless Grunt Number 5 or that Prospera activated her somehow with her typical ‘move forward, gain two’ line. So, mainly to fight the opinion that Suletta is now just suddenly a murderous psychopath, I’d like to point out a few things. I’ll be laying out evidence from the series, from the Prologue story, Cradle Planet, and my own observations. So, first and foremost, Suletta has shown to act very impulsively whenever Miorine is in any sort of danger (slapping Guel in episode 1, her confrontation with Shaddiq in episode 9). She trusts Miorine implicitly and after last episode, after having been separated from her after a really tender moment, she’s undoubtedly panicking about whether or not she’s okay. Even Prospera can see that, because she makes sure to namedrop Miorine when she tells Suletta that if she gets in Aerial she can save everyone. The GUND-bits told her that the transport and Earth House is safe. She activates what I assume is Permet Score 6 (same tetrahedron shield as ep. 9, along with Prospera telling Delling in ep. 11 that that’s as high as Aerial’s PS went during the Grassley duel), and is able to locate Miorine. I find it hard to believe that she didn’t also see Delling and Nameless Grunt Number 5 (because I’m guessing that the bits identified them via their personal Permet ID). She came into that room hard and fast, and Aerial immediately adopted a combat stance. That wasn’t the entrance of someone who knew the danger was over and was going to enter through a proper airlock or hanger. Then, of course, we get to the slap. I’ve seen people talk about how she could’ve just blocked or captured Nameless Grunt Number 5, but he had just overcome his shock at Aerial’s arrival and leveled his gun to finish Miorine and Delling. He was about to kill them. Suletta didn’t have time to think ‘Oh I can solve this nonviolently’. With everything we’ve seen from her so far, I’d be shocked if her first and only thought, and the one that she and Aerial acted on, wasn’t ‘Miorine is in danger I need to stop him’. Then, she gets out of Aerial. There’s blood everywhere, she trips and falls. Suletta, who we’ve never seen properly navigate any kind of social interaction ever. Suletta, who just minutes ago was in shock, nearly shut down over her mother having killed Nameless Grunts 1-4. Suletta, who just watched Nameless Grunt Number 5 try to kill Miorine, does not have the emotional capacity to deal with all of this. So she does what she’s had working for her so far with Earth House. She plays it off as clumsy, as silly. Suletta Forgetta indeed. A brief side bar on those who think the motto ‘run, lose one, move forward, gain two’ is some kind of trigger phrase, the Prequel story Cradle Planet shows us that Suletta has been using that since the age of nine to get over things she’s afraid of. She comes to Aerial one night because the elders at the Mercury colony don’t respect or trust her. She’s in tears. She climbs into Aerial’s cockpit, and she repeats that phrase until she’s brave enough to face the world again. Flash forward, she’s 17 now (last age given in the story was 15, but with context clues we can assume this next part is right before ep. 1). Prospera’s putting her plan into action, Miorine is being married off to whoever claims the title of Holder at Asticassia. Suletta comes to Aerial again. She tells her about what’s happening (Aerial knows already, Prospera told her the night before. Aerial doesn’t want Suletta to go, doesn’t want her to be used for revenge). She starts to panic, she’s anxious. Then she tells herself, ‘If you run, gain one. Move forward, gain two. Right, Aerial?’. She uses the words to propel herself forward once again. Just as she has done before, and just as we see her do so many times throughout the series. Suletta is clearly coded as neurodivergent. Whyever that is and whatever she’s specifically coded to be, I’m not going to speculate on, but she doesn’t understand social graces. She doesn’t always know the right way to respond. She defaults to a lot of reactions (hiding, playing it off) because those are what have worked for her. She’s not some manic psychopath suddenly and gleefully happy to kill, and she’s not the Winter Soldier waiting to be activated (that might be Aerial, if the red eye stickers in the Gunpla kit are any indication). She’s just doing her best. And that’s not always going to be the right thing to do, as we saw. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 9 months

Note

AITA for triggering someone’s epilepsy (unknowingly)?

So I’m (19F) in this relatively small Discord server for a fandom. We occasionally get new members but there’s always been a “core” group of 7 of us who started it originally. We’re pretty close and consider each other genuine online friends, and we all admin the server.

A couple weeks ago, a new member (?M) who I’ll call K joined and I immediately felt a little sketched out by him because in his Discord profile in the pronouns section he put “goon/gooner.” I’m cis but I worried for the rest of the server (mostly trans), though they either didn’t see it or didn’t point it out. K seemed okay, he wasn’t very active other than reacting to stuff with emojis so he faded into the background and didn’t really bother me.

So we have a channel in the server for holiday stuff and yesterday one of the admins sent something for the first day of Hanukkah (the 8th) and pinged everyone. The last message above that was about Transgender Day of Remembrance (the 20th of November, before K joined) and after getting pinged for the new one I guess K saw that because he suddenly replied to one of the articles (about a trans boy-to-girl getting murdered) and said “rip king, sorry to see a brother go down.” It was very obvious in the article’s thumbnail that the teenager murdered was a girl, and it said she was trans in the title.

I was livid. Most of my friends are trans and I would (metaphorically) die defending them. I was too angry to write an actual response so I just sent a GIF (the “You should kill yourself now” one with the guy with white eyes and lightning flashing in the background, except it was sped up). K didn’t reply and another admin deleted his message and I wanted him banned, but they said we should wait for K to reply and give him the benefit of the doubt in case he was mistaken or misread it.

K started spamming in our general channel about half an hour later, super mad and saying stuff like “FUCK YOU YOU [R-SLUR] YOU MADE ME HAVE A FUCKING SEIZURE I HAVE EPILEPSY YOU DIPSHIT” and was just basically saying variations of that over and over until we kicked him. Apparently K had mentioned his epilepsy at one point but I don’t remember it ?? An admin pulled up a message though (his intro) where he listed it.

The other main 6 admins are very conflicted on this, but they mostly seem to think I’m an asshole and a couple of them have even unfriended me. I would be the asshole if I knew about K’s epilepsy, but I shouldn’t be expected to read every single message sent in the server, and honestly K took the risk of being on the internet where there are tons of flashing images, and I’m pretty sure there are accessibility settings you can have on Discord and your computer in general. Plus, K was being transphobic, and I was very angry and didn’t respond well. The others said I could’ve put a flash warning or something, but I wasn't thinking straight in the moment.

So, is this a NTA, JAH, or ESH? Because K was definitely an asshole too, even if he had epilepsy. I don’t know, the situation is complicated and he could be lying, so.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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vivid-ink · 1 year

Text

"To Know You Again" Chapter 2 - A Kiss Long Awaited

Pairing: Neteyam x fem!Omatikaya OC

Summary: “Do you remember our last night here? The night before my family left?” The warm, rumbling timbre of Neteyam’s voice washed over her. “Yes,” Naia whispered. How could she forget?... She had replayed the memory of his lips over and over numerous times. One corner of Neteyam’s mouth lifted in a small smile as his eyes tracked over the delicate bridge of her nose and over her steadily flushing cheeks. His gaze stopped to rest on her lips, “You gave me something that night. I think it's time I returned it."

An exploration of what if Neteyam had to leave a girl he was close to behind when his family fled to the reefs to seek refuge. AU - Set 7 years after TWoW, exploring the many emotions and the eventual romantic reunion between Neteyam and his love.

Warnings: Adult content 18+, MDNI Content: Romance, drama, angst, fluff, sexual content, smut, soulmates, bonding. Word Count: 7.4k

Previous Chapter 1 - Homecoming

As recognition dawned upon Naia at the intruder’s identity, her fright quickly turned to annoyance at being startled out of her slumber. The delicate points of her ears, which had sprung upright in momentary surprise at Neteyam’s presence, flattened again and she hissed, “You skxawng! Why would you sneak up on me like that? That’s such a kurkung (asshole) move!”

Neteyam chuckled at her gutsy and impertinent reaction, “Still feisty, I see. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Straightening to full height now that she perceived she was in no danger, Naia’s eyes ran over his form again. Shit, he had gotten big...

Neteyam had always been lean, even in his younger years, due to his natural athleticism and active lifestyle. However, the breadth of his chest and the strapping strength in his arms was a change and it triggered an involuntary flutter of feminine appreciation in her stomach. He was taller than she remembered too.

Neteyam cleared his throat quietly and Naia’s eyes shot upward to his face. The youthful softness it had once possessed was gone now, his cheekbones high and his jawline more angular. A roguish smirk was playing across his features and Naia caught herself then, realising she had been staring.

“Are you going to put the pointy thing away?” Neteyam teased lightly, grinning widely when he saw Naia sheepishly re-sheathe the small dagger she was holding in its case at her hip.

He had noticed her staring, but Neteyam would be a hypocrite if he did not admit to doing the same. Naia looked very different. Her facial features were familiar, but her hair was longer now, braided neatly down to her shoulders and the rest of her had certainly filled out nicely. He made a conscious effort to check himself and ensure his gaze did not linger for more than a moment on the pleasing curves of her breasts and hips.

Now that the flare of her annoyance had died down, Naia found herself rather tongue-tied in Neteyam’s presence. Eywa, she did not know what to say or do…

“You didn’t come with the others to say hi earlier,” Neteyam broached quietly.

Naia swallowed and her eyes met his again, “Sorry, I was busy with Entu. How’d you know I’d be here?”

Neteyam shook his head and shrugged casually, “I didn’t actually. I just wanted to stretch my legs after flying for almost two days before going to bed. I wasn’t really going anywhere in particular and I guess my feet naturally started retracing old paths.”

Naia gave a barely audible gasp. He remembered this was their spot… Did he remember the bond they shared all those years ago too?

“Did I give you that much of a fright? You’re very quiet.” Neteyam’s voice was sincere and gentle concern coloured his features.

The beads in Naia’s hair rattled mildly as she gave a soft shake of her head. She gave an awkward laugh and apologised, “You did give me a scare, but it’s alright. Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I just-” Naia paused mid-sentence then, thinking of what she wanted to say and how to phrase it, “I just can’t quite believe you’re here. It’s been so long. I don’t really know what to say.”

He grinned toothily at her, the pointed tips of his canines peeking out from behind his upper lip, “Smart-mouthed Naia, lost for words huh? That’s unlike you. You called me a moron and an asshole only a few moments ago.” Neteyam took a few steps towards her then, closing the distance between them, “How about a nice greeting?”

Naia’s heartbeat sped up at his approach and the flutters erupted again in her tummy. A greeting? Her mind spun with what she should do. Should she shake his hand or-?

Thankfully Neteyam solved her dilemma for her. She saw him hold his arms out slightly from his sides, palms open in an unspoken request for a hug. Oh.

Self-conscious nerves fizzled through her and her limbs felt slightly numb. Her legs instinctively carried her forward nonetheless and she slotted herself against him, winding her arms around his slender waist. Neteyam’s arms enveloped her smaller frame and Naia rose onto the balls of her feet so she could rest her chin over his shoulder.

Naia need not have worried.The awkward tension within her disappeared the moment her body met his and she melted into his embrace.

It was as if their skin remembered, their muscles and flesh moulding to each other like it was the most natural thing in the world. Neteyam’s skin was a blissfully warm contrast to the chill of the night air and Naia turned her head inward to tuck her cheek against the flat of his collarbone where it met his shoulder, her nose skimming the skin of his neck. His scent was familiar and her eyes slid shut to the gentle thud of his heartbeat.

Something clicked into place in the depths of Neteyam’s being and his heart whispered “home”. The years he had spent through the Long War in the reefs of Awa’atlu suddenly felt like a distant memory and the recollections of his past in the forest, and with Naia, came flooding back to him. Like the rest of his family, he had been forced to adapt to life at sea and he had done so successfully, eventually becoming Metkayina. However, the voices of his Omatikaya ancestors had never stopped calling to his soul, nor had the sound of Naia’s voice.

Holding Naia against him, he dipped his head to murmur by the pointed shell of her ear, “Oel ngati kameie, Naia. I’m happy to see you.”

Naia’s heart soared with joy and she could not suppress the wide smile that stretched across her lips. Still feeling somewhat shy, she uttered her own greeting into the crook of his neck, “I see you, Neteyam. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

The motion against her was soft, but the gentle press of Neteyam’s lips against the crown of her head was unmistakeable for what it was. The buzzing flurry in Naia’s stomach spread upward to her chest as her many emotions frolicked within her. He had not forgotten her. He was here… he was home now.

However, the part of Naia that looked after her self-preservation cautioned her not to get ahead of herself. Neteyam may have missed her, but it did not mean he felt the same depth of affection towards her that she did for him.

“You’ve shrunk. You’re shorter than I remember.” Neteyam joked.

With a huff of laughter, Naia stepped back a little to face him, “No I haven’t! I’m taller than I used to be actually. You’ve just grown more exponentially than I have, both upward and outward.” She unwound her arms from around him and planted her hands on his biceps, giving them an experimental squeeze, “By Eywa, what did they have you doing out there? Throwing massive chunks of coral reef around?”

Neteyam snorted, joining her in laughter, “No, but regular swimming against strong ocean currents will do this to you.”

“Are you back for good?” Naia queried, keeping her tone carefully measured even though her heart was bursting at the seams with hope.

“Yeah, I am. The forest has always been my home.” Neteyam breathed in response. He walked further into the grotto and cast his eyes around the space. It appeared exactly as he remembered it. He spotted the nest of blankets in the corner and the purple fabric of what looked like his old flying shawl. He smiled to himself before his gaze purposefully sought Naia’s out again, “My heart has always been here.”

***~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***

Eclipse was coming to an end and the mellow light of morning was beginning to brighten Neteyam’s surroundings. He skulked silently through the various cloth pavilions and tents of High Camp, making for the shelter of his own family’s newfound lodging in the distance. Naia’s family shelter was on the opposite end of the camp and they had parted ways at the grotto with the joyful relief of a ‘see you later’ rather than a ‘goodbye’.

He and Naia had stayed up for a good portion of the night talking and filling each other in on the long years that had passed in-between. The comfortable amity they had shared in the past had returned with ease and they had fallen into their old ways of teasing and joking as if he had never left. It was just like old times; well, mostly.

Neteyam felt blood heat his face in mild embarrassment and he smiled wryly to himself. Perhaps the only difference were the moments of light tension that charged between them when they realised there were certain old habits they used to do that were different now, because of the resulting sensuality that came with being grown. Curling against each other to sleep was one such example.

Nevertheless, they had fallen asleep at some point, not quite touching but still lying alongside each other amongst the blankets. Neteyam had awoken later to a diffident smile from Naia as she had risen to stretch her limbs.

Reaching the cloth flap of his family’s shelter, he carefully curled the fingers of one hand around an edge and parted it slowly. It was mostly dark still in the first section that expanded out from the entryway and he stepped inside as quietly as he could. To be fair, Neteyam did not know why he was sneaking in like a teenager not wanting to be found wandering after hours. He was an adult now; he could do as he pleased with his nights.

Rounding the corner of another section of the shelter, he was met with firelight and the perceptive eyes of his parents. It should not have surprised him. They were both early risers. Murmuring a muted greeting, Neteyam sat to join them as they partook in an early breakfast of savoury rolls.

“How’s Manaia?” Neytiri asked coolly, her eyes never leaving her food as she gingerly peeled the leaf-wrapping back to take another bite, although a knowing smile was dancing on her lips.

Busted.

Neteyam did not feel too mortified, thankfully. His parents were aware after all of how he felt for Naia. He had missed her horribly for many, many moons when they had first moved to Awa’atlu. He had been reclusive and uncharacteristically short-tempered with his siblings, and it was not until the start of the Long War that he became distracted enough by the calamity of war to take his mind off her.

“Naia’s good. She’s not tsakarem anymore.”

“Yes, your grandmother informed us. Apparently she refused to be betrothed to Tupou.” Jake piped up.

Neytiri was very amused by the sentiment and she cackled softly, “Not surprising. If she is still as vivacious as I remember her to be, then a partnership between those two would be like adding oil to a bonfire in all the wrong ways. Leylani is a much better fit, she’ll keep Tupou’s arrogance in check without riling him.”

Jake eyed Neteyam from across the small fire in the hearth. The revelation was a small win. It would certainly complicate matters for his son if Naia was affianced to another. Feeling meddlesome, he posed his question, “So, are you going to give Manaia your soul-gift?”

Neytiri spluttered at the indelicacy of the intimate question, chastising her mate, “Jake! You do not ask about such matters, even to family!”

“Hey, you started this conversation!” Jake retorted with a snicker, gently batting Neytiri’s hands away as she reached out to try and twist one of his ears, “Besides, he was with her all night.”

“Talking, Dad. We were just catching up.” Neteyam smirked and shook his head, chuckling at his parents’ playful antics. His father’s question was indeed very personal, but he knew his father meant it rhetorically and was only stirring the pot to annoy his mother.

Neteyam thought of the elaborate necklet and pendant that lay tucked in its little pouch with the rest of his belongings. The Metkayina had a tradition where every individual would craft a gift for their intended mate; a soul-gift. It was intended as a proposal of sorts and a promise of the eternal bond they would share in Eywa. A soul-gift could be anything; a weapon, an article of clothing; an ornament; but it was often an intricate piece of hand-crafted jewellery.

An image of the necklet adorning Naia’s neck with its twisting pendant nestled atop her breasts came to Neteyam, and it caused a wave of heat to bloom in his chest as well as elsewhere. His heart had rejoiced at being reunited with her last night and she certainly seemed as elated by his return. There was definitely physical attraction between them, but did her heart call to his like his did to hers?

Neteyam was sure Naia had loved him once, a long time ago. The memory of her kiss had besieged him ever since. It had taken him by surprise on their last night together before his departure, and the thought of leaving her love behind had been too painful for him to acknowledge it. Afterward, he wished he had kissed her back.

“Tarsem has not rostered us on any duties for the next few days to give us time to rest and acclimatise again.” Jake’s voice brought Neteyam back to the present, “I imagine it’ll be the hunters and warriors that you want to re-join?”

Swallowing the last piece of his savoury roll, Neteyam nodded firmly, “Yes, definitely.”

“I’ll see to it that Tarsem is aware of that. He wants me back on the elders’ council and there is a meeting at the week’s end. Apparently he has much to discuss with me.”

Neytiri raised a questioning brow, “Already? You just returned and the people are at peace now. I can’t imagine what would be so pressing that he requires your immediate advice.”

Cocking his head and blowing a long breath out from between his lips, Jake shrugged, “He said it was something to do with the clan hierarchy.”

Neteyam was beginning to zone out as his parents continued their conversation. The fact that he was not expected to join in the clan’s duties at current sounded wonderful to him. His scratchy eyes reminded him of his weariness. Two days of flying followed by a night of not much sleep meant that slumber was beckoning to him.

He would see Naia again later that evening and the warmth of anticipation tingled in his chest. Bidding his parents a good day, Neteyam moved farther into the shelter where the sleeping area was and promptly collapsed onto his sleeping mat. His last thought before sleep claimed him, as always, was Naia.

***~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***

Leylani looked across the tsahìk’s hut at Naia, observing as her friend continued peeling the batch of kllpxiwll (lionberry) fruit they had gathered earlier that morning without so much as a peep from her. The purple flesh of the lionberry fruit was incredibly sour and not good for eating, but the large seed that lay within its flesh could be boiled and the resulting broth made into a syrup that eased fever and aches in the body. Getting to the seed was an infuriating endeavour though due to the fruit’s tough orange skin, which was waxy, spiny, and very difficult to remove.

Leylani knew this was one of Naia’s least favourite things to do as a result, and there was usually an abundance of huffing complaints from her when she had to complete the task. However, today she appeared lost in her own world, and every now and again a shy smile would flit across her full lips at whatever her thoughts contained.

Naia had been similarly distracted every day this past week and judging by the timing of it, Leylani was willing to bet that her thoughts were centred around a certain someone. A certain young man who had recently returned to the clan and promptly set all the hearts of the young women aflutter with his strapping frame and fetching good-looks. Leylani knew Neteyam and Naia had been close companions in their youth though.

Finishing her own task of brewing a new batch of yanabark tincture, Leylani grinned impishly and left her station to join Naia where she sat. A bit of harmless teasing was in order.

Naia did not even look up when Leylani plopped down next to her. Tittering softly, Leylani nudged her friend by pressing the side of her thigh against hers, “You’re in a good mood, sister.”

“Am I? I’m not sure what you mean.” Naia replied coyly, turning her attention away from her chore to acknowledge Leylani with narrowed eyes. Naia knew where the conversation was going and she did not want to be ribbed.

“You’re so happy even battling with the kllpxiwll fruit has not spoiled your day!” Leylani continued with her good-natured pestering. Naia was usually brimming with quick-witted sarcasm, but Leylani had discovered in recent days that if there was one topic of conversation that made her squirm dumbstruck, it was Neteyam. It was a fun change to be able to give Naia a taste of her own medicine. “Has Neteyam gone from swimming in the reefs to swimming in your thoughts?”

Naia’s head whipped upright, frazzled, with wide eyes and steadily flushing cheeks, “No!”

Leylani threw her head back with an unbridled peal of laughter at her friend’s response, which she knew was a fib, “Oh mawey, it’s alright! I’m only teasing you, but I don’t blame you Manaia. Neteyam is charming and very handsome.”

The last sentence had been delivered in a sing-song voice and Naia ground out her reply through gritted teeth, “He’s a good friend.”

“Mm hmm.” Leylani’s tone made it clear she was not convinced, but she put her poor friend out of her misery and pursued the topic no more.

There was a disturbance at the hut’s entrance and the cloth flaps parted to admit three of the fisherfolk women, followed by a clucking and fussing Mo’at who hurried to get her healer’s things. Two younger women were supporting an older woman between them, who was hobbling into the hut on one foot. The drops of crimson that she left behind her in a trail was evidence of her injury.

“Come Roha, sit! I need to stem the bleeding.” Mo’at quickly ushered the older woman onto a soft mat, motioning for the woman to place her leg in her lap.

“Oh it looks so painful!” One of the younger women gasped, cringing at the sight.

“Don’t worry yourself, daughter. It’s only a cut foot.” Roha reassured, “I was careless. I didn’t see the jagged edge on that rock by the river.”

Mo’at worked quickly, applying pressure using one hand with some clean cloth while the nimble fingers of her other hand uncapped a small pottle containing a strong-smelling salve, “It’s a deep cut though. You’ll be limping for a while and no more wading or swimming until the wound seals over. I’m sure there will still be plenty of fish and clams gathered for meals even with one fisherwoman down.”

Roha chortled huskily and cast a pert grin at Mo’at, “Ah I’m not worried about our gathered stock being depleted, tsahìk. If your grandson wasn’t a warrior, I’d have him working with us fisherfolk permanently! His breath holds are incredible. He gathered an entire satchel of riverweed and river clams in half the time it would take one of us to do it!”

Mo’at smiled, “Well, the reef clans live and breathe the ocean. I daresay holding your breath for extended periods is a life-or-death skill out there. Was Neteyam helping you today?”

“Yes, his warrior duties don’t start until tomorrow and he was looking for something to occupy himself with this morning.”

“We were wondering if he was alright at first. He was submerged for so long. If it wasn’t for the fact that we could still see him swimming we would’ve gone down after him.” Roha’s daughter added blandly.

Roha let out a mischievous cackle then, her eyes crinkling in the corners, “He’s quite the sight for sore eyes. I’m sure some of the women would not have minded giving him breath to resuscitate him if needed!”

Naia shook her head with a roll of her eyes and she made a renewed effort to block out the conversation. She did not need to be reminded that Neteyam was appealing enough that he could have his pick of all the women if he wished. Naia’s curdling mood must have been obvious as Leylani giggled at her green-eyed expression.

Yet still it’s you he spends his evenings with… Naia’s brain supplied encouragingly. It was true. Neteyam had spent every evening in her company since his return. Naia pressed her lips tightly together to suppress another girlish grin that threatened to jaunt its way across her lips.

They passed the evenings together mostly talking and laughing, either in the grotto or walking amongst the lush woodlands below the mountains if they fancied a flight out on their ikran too. Neteyam told her stories of his family’s time with the Metkayina; about how they had learned the way of water; about how Lo’ak had been the only one to bond with a tulkun and had chosen to stay with his mate Tsireya instead of returning to the forest; about the harrowing years fighting alongside the sea people on the oceanic side of the Long War.

In contrast, Naia did not feel like she had anything interesting to tell him. She had studied conscientiously under his grandmother when the role of tsakarem was still hers, learning to heal and commune with Eywa. The Long War had felt like a never-ending nightmare for Naia, where the tsahìk’s hut was always full of the injured and dying, and a healer’s job was never done.

Neteyam had enlisted her help the other evening with shearing and re-braiding his hair. He had shorn the sides off in the typical warriors’ fashion, leaving only a thick cluster of braids running down the middle of his scalp and trailing around his queue. Naia’s fingers had deftly woven a selection of beads into his hair as she had worked. Some of the beads were from her own personal collection of embellishments, a detail that made her stomach flutter with happiness at the thought.

Another nudge from Leylani broke Naia out of her contemplation and she realised it was the end of her work day.

Only last meal to go and then she would see him again.

***~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***

Pumping her legs harder and willing her burning muscles to carry her faster, Naia cursed herself for this inane endeavour. In her spirited mood, after a refreshing evening flight on their ikran, she had challenged Neteyam to a race on foot from the mount where the ikran roosted back to the grotto. She had thought that perhaps the years of swimming and oceanic living might have dulled his dexterity at forest-life, but she was wrong.

The smaller mountain top where the ikran rookery was situated was not far from High Camp. However, one still had to scale down the precipice of it, traverse across the suspension of arching boughs that connected it to the base of High Camp, and then climb the myriad of vines to reach the flatter summit of the stronghold. From High Camp, they still needed to make their way towards the secluded collection of caves where their grotto was to ‘win’ the race.

Naia’s eyes stung slightly from the rush of the night zephyr that blew past her. More than just a little ahead of her, Neteyam leapt, loped and climbed with the lithe grace and muscle memory of someone who had never left the forest. He was striking to behold as he moved, the power in his body apparent in the rippling strength of his physique. He was a warrior and male. She was a healer and female. Profession and biology alone should have told Naia that this was an uneven contest from the get-go.

By the time Naia caught up to Neteyam at the mouth of the grotto, he was not even panting anymore. A radiant smile spread across his face as she jogged up to him, her chest heaving as she fought to catch her breath.

“Damn you and your muscles, and your natural athleticism!” Naia sputtered, bending forward to rest her hands on her knees to ease the stitch just below her ribs.

Deep laughter echoed, the sound bouncing off the rocky walls and reverberating around in the collection of small cave systems. Neteyam made a show of flexing his muscles then, curling his biceps and twisting this way and that, posing haughtily. He snorted during his next breath, “Is this a good impression of Tupou?”

Naia coughed, choking on the hearty laugh that burst from her chest at the remark. Indeed, she could never tell if Tupou was stretching like he said he was during his warm ups, or if he was modelling instead for the females around him before he departed on his patrols or hunts. Clearly even Neteyam had picked up on Tupou’s pretentious habit.

Though his hair now resembled Tupou’s and the rest of the warriors, Naia silently observed that she found Neteyam much more physically appealing than she did Tupou. Both men were handsome with physiques that would make any woman fantasise of doing unchaste things, but where Tupou’s face was hard with an air of superciliousness to it, Neteyam’s expression was warm and his eyes gentle.

Watching as Neteyam turned to stroll into the grotto, Naia took the opportunity to appreciate his burly frame. Not that he had ever been skinny before, but his new muscular form made her hyperaware that the boy she remembered was gone, replaced now by a grown man who embodied the very essence of what she considered male. Desire unfurled low in her abdomen and her mouth turned dry, and a very feminine part of her clenched involuntarily in yearning. She bit her bottom lip sheepishly. Oh Great Mother, do not forsake me…

Following Neteyam into the grotto, Naia murmured her thanks when he held a waterskin out to her to drink from. The cool liquid quenched her thirst delightfully and moistened her parched throat. Letting her head loll backward, she gave a gratified moan before lifting the waterskin to her lips again to take another swig.

It was a completely natural and innocent response on Naia’s part. However, Neteyam schooled his expression into one of composure when the sound of her moan shot an unbidden spear of lust through him. Her striped cobalt skin was dewy with a light sheen of perspiration and the sight of her with her head tipped back, her eyes hooded, brought to mind some of his very personal imaginings of her in very particular situations. Her scent was also incredibly enticing and it impelled him to take her in his arms and press his nose into the crook of her neck.

Six long years he had spent away from her; six long years of envisaging what she would look like if he ever saw her again and how she would feel in his arms. Now that his wish had been granted and Naia stood corporeal before him, his hands itched to touch her and his mouth watered with longing to kiss her.

Setting the waterskin down by the nest of soft blankets, Naia grinned puckishly and crouched down by the small make-shift hearth in the grotto. There was a small oil lamp burning in the corner, but the nights were getting chillier now as they moved into the cooler season and a small fire would provide both better illumination and warmth. Sitting down and crossing her legs, she piled pieces of kindling and dried greenery before her and grabbed two coarse stones, “You might still outrun and outstrip me physically, but I can still build a better fire than you can.”

Neteyam chuckled and agreed without dispute, letting Naia go about the task. She certainly got his fire going…

Settling himself down against the blankets, he stretched out on his back with a bolster roll under his head. The grotto brightened considerably not long after when Naia succeeded in igniting the hearth. Sticking her tongue out at him, she twittered in triumph and moved to join him. Stepping over his reclined form, she eased herself down to sit against the grotto wall. She reached for the purple flying shawl and drew it over her knees.

“I can’t believe you still have this.” Neteyam said, catching one corner of the shawl between his fingers, “It’s so old now it’s almost threadbare.”

“Just means the fabric isn’t scratchy against my skin.” Naia quickly countered, but she mustered up enough courage in the next moment to admit softly, too shy to meet his eyes, “And it reminded me of you.” It also smelled of you once… She left that sentiment out though. She had cried the day the shawl stopped smelling of him, when she could no longer detect his scent in the soft fabric.

The air charged around them with a taut tension. It was not uncomfortable, it just held a silent sense of the unfinished, of something more that needed to occur. Neteyam wished he had brought a physical reminder of Naia with him when he had left. He had departed with empty hands and a hollow heart, with nothing but his memories of her and a tingling recollection of her soft lips against his.

Naia brought her eyes upward from her lap and found Neteyam’s eyes squarely on her. His eyes of green-gold were framed by dark lashes and something sparked within their depths as he held her gaze. His eyes dropped just a fraction, looking at something a little lower on her face. Naia licked her lips nervously. She swore he was looking at her lips…

A bright flare of something arced overhead, visible through the fissure in the grotto’s ceiling. Several more flashes followed, a shower of light blazing across the blue-black canvas of the night sky.

Naia gasped in surprise, her glee plain in her voice, “A star shower!”

Neteyam shuffled over to his left to make room for her. The best view through the crevice in the ceiling was where he was lying, “Come over here, quick!” He gestured with his right arm for Naia to lie beside him and, in her excitement, there was no hesitation as she stretched out alongside him. He adjusted his arm so it was cushioning her shoulders and Naia carefully rested her head against his shoulder while she gazed skyward.

Star showers were fleeting and did not last long. They were also rare occurrences. It was said that anyone lucky enough to witness the flitting of the stars through the sky would be granted their heart’s utmost desire.

The stars burst their way in brilliant streams overhead and Naia was only dimly aware that she was smiling. The phenomenon was delightful and nestled against Neteyam, with the skin of his shoulder warming her cheek, Naia felt the happiest she had been in a long time.

Neteyam’s eyes remained skyward, but he was distracted. Every one of his other senses was buzzing with keen attentiveness to the feel of Naia’s body pressed to his own. Her even breaths prickled by his ear, her scent tantalised his nose, his skin tingled with aching heat where it met hers and his tongue wanted very much to taste her.

Star showers were supposed to bring good luck and the thought encouraged Neteyam. He and Naia were close, but it was time to test the waters of what more they could be to each other.

As quickly as it had come, the starry marvel ended and Naia turned her head slightly to look at Neteyam, “That was so beautiful.” She gave a small intake of breath when she found him already watching her intently.

“You’re so beautiful, Naia.”

Flinching a little in surprise, Naia’s wit was quick to bite back her growing awkwardness at his comment, “As beautiful as a star shower? Your eyesight is deteriorating, Neteyam. Careful, you might miss your target during tomorrow’s hunt.” There was no way he meant what he said, surely. His mother was beautiful; Leylani was beautiful. Naia had never felt anything more than plain.

Neteyam could see Naia mentally talking herself out of his compliment and he was not having it, “You’re barely a hand’s width from my face, I think I can see just fine. Why do you doubt my words?”

Squirming at his direct line of questioning, Naia turned her head and made to shift away from him and from his query, but Neteyam was quicker than her. Rolling onto his side towards her and propping himself up on one hand, he brought his other arm down on her other side in a loose cage. Stuck, Naia’s back lowered softly to the ground again within the enclosure of his arms and she peered noiselessly up at him.

“Do you remember our last night here? The night before my family left?” The warm, rumbling timbre of Neteyam’s voice washed over her.

“Yes,” Naia whispered. How could she forget? She had replayed the memory of his lips over and over numerous times.

One corner of Neteyam’s mouth lifted in a small smile as his eyes tracked over the delicate bridge of her nose, over her steadily flushing cheeks and over the gentle glittering of her phosphorescent freckles, “You gave me something that night.”

Shivers ran across Naia’s body, not from the cold, but from gradually rising anticipation as Neteyam’s face continued its descent towards hers. Did he remember? Was he talking about what she thought he was? She had no words. She was entranced by the unfolding situation.

Neteyam lowered himself onto his elbow on one side, his torso aligning with and pressing flush against hers again. His lips were a soft caress against one of her ears, “I think it’s time I returned it.”

Naia’s lips were parted and her breaths were coming in small pants. Neteyam’s musky scent permeated her nostrils and it was alluring in its potent masculinity. Her next breath left her in a shudder when she felt him stroke his nose over the hot skin of her cheek and his lips brushed the corner of her mouth.

Neteyam felt as if they were suspended in time, just the two of them alone in the universe. He pulled back a little to regard Naia, giving her one last chance to stop him from crossing the line they had so carefully toed for the last week. There was no coming back from this. If she responded the way he hoped, he would never let her go again.

Naia had dreamt of this moment for years… Heart hammering in her chest, she shifted just a fraction towards him.

That was all the permission Neteyam needed. Leaning down, he sealed his lips over Naia’s. The years of longing burst in their chests, thrill spearing outward from their hearts as they finally gave in to magnetism between them and let their ardour consume them.

A blazing but pleasurable heat besieged Naia as she dissolved into the kiss. Neteyam was everywhere around her and she felt like thick nectar liquifying as his lips and tongue continued to lead the carnal dance with hers. Great Mother, Naia had never been kissed like this before. She had never been kissed at all.

Naia knew that was by her own choice. She had never found any other man appealing enough to want to kiss him. She had seen other young couples kissing passionately, unashamed of the fact they could be seen, and she had often thought it gross. It did not look pleasant; it looked like they were trying to eat each other’s faces and she did not understand it. She understood it now. She was drowning blissfully in the fervent heat of Neteyam’s mouth.

Neteyam shifted again, moving his body so it almost entirely sheltered hers. It gave him better access to her face and neck this way and he gave a satisfied growl when he felt Naia’s thighs part to cradle his heavy weight against her. Tucking his head into the crook of her neck, he proceeded to lavish open-mouthed kisses against her sensitive skin, delighting in the way she gasped and arched against him.

Naia wound her arms around his neck and desire coursed unrestrained through her veins. It pooled most heavily in the vee of her thighs and the most secret part of her pulsed in want. She knew she was not the only one aroused though. Naia might not have any practical experience in this field, but she was a healer and she was well-educated in how bodies worked.

Neteyam returned his attentions to her mouth, his lips resuming their dance with hers again and Naia instinctively squirmed, rocking herself against the hard ridge of his erection. He broke away from the kiss as her movement elicited a sharp hiss of enjoyment from him. Exhilarated by his passionate reaction, Naia continued to repeat the motion. She surprised even herself with her own brazenness. She relished in the feel of his arousal against her core and appreciated the way his expression contorted in pleasure.

This woman would be the death of him… With a firm hand on her hip, Neteyam stopped her with a hoarse chuckle, “Naia, stop.” He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips then and rolled back onto his side.

Naia was in a happy daze. Perhaps she was dreaming. Maybe she would wake up soon and discover it had all been a wonderful dream. If it was then she did not want to wake up…

“You’re not asleep.”

Oh, had she spoken her thoughts aloud?

Another chuckle rumbled in Neteyam’s chest and he delivered a playful nip to the point of Naia’s ear that was closest to him, hard enough to hurt a little but not break the skin.

“Ow!” Naia squealed, pushing against his chest in mock anger.

“Can’t feel pain if you’re dreaming.” Neteyam teased, leaning in to soothe the hurt he had inflicted with a kiss to the same affronted ear. His expression turned grave then as he held her gaze, “Why did you think you were dreaming?”

The awkwardness returned and Naia fidgeted nervously. By Eywa, he was full of deep questions today… She could be truthful with him though. She knew Neteyam would never judge her, but admitting her feelings for him had not waned in seven years was a vulnerable fact.

“I didn’t think you felt that way about me.” Naia confessed quietly, avoiding his eyes and choosing to stare instead at the darkened sky overhead, “You didn’t kiss me back that night. Great Mother, I felt like a fool after. I thought I’d misjudged everything.”

Neteyam’s heart gave a distressing squeeze at the realisation that Naia had spent all these years thinking her feelings were unrequited. All because he had been too stunned and too selfish to respond the way he had wanted to. It had been too painful for him to acknowledge her feelings that night, and he had neglected to even consider how his inaction would affect her.

Shaking his head, his expression contrite, Neteyam cupped Naia’s cheek and turned her face to him, “I’m sorry. I was an idiot. You surprised me when you kissed me. And then I was too scared to acknowledge it because having to leave you felt so much worse if I acknowledged that there was more between us.”

A wet giggle left Naia and she mentally cursed the unbidden sting of tears in her eyes. She did not know whether to laugh or cry. The lump in her throat prevented her from talking.

Neteyam filled the silence instead, “I was miserable for a long time. Then the Long War happened and I was miserable for other reasons too, but there wasn’t a day where I didn’t think of you.” He gently dragged the pad of his thumb over her lips and down her chin before daringly resting the flat of his hand over her heart, feeling the soft swell of her breast beneath his palm, “I feel deeply for you and I want to get to know you like this.”

Naia’s chest brimmed with happiness and relief. She had yearned for him for so long and he was here now, saying to her what she had only imagined him saying in the past. She rolled inwards, snuggling into the warmth of his neck and chest and she felt his arm come to press her to him.

I love you. The words were there, resounding in her heart and a breath away from leaving her lips, but Naia pressed her lips to his chest instead. She would keep those tender words to herself, lest she frighten him away with her ardour.

They had all the time in the world now to explore where this would go. What was the rush?

***~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***

Muffled voices carried from within his family’s shelter as Neteyam approached it. He heard another deep voice speaking, not his father’s, which meant they had visitors.

He and Naia had kissed a little more afterward and when things had begun to grow heated again, he had stopped them with the lame but not untrue excuse of needing to get back. His warrior duties started tomorrow and it would be a strenuous day of hunting. He needed a good night’s sleep to ensure he was rejuvenated and fresh for the task.

The very male parts of him had wanted to continue, but things were progressing too quickly and he did not want to scare Naia. Not she appeared to mind… The thought brought a salacious smirk to his face.

“Ah, if it isn’t the man himself! Speak of him and he appears as if summoned!”

Neteyam was greeted with four pairs of eyes across the hearth as he parted the tent flaps and entered. Finally amidst them, he realised the booming voice that had just spoken was the olo’eyktan, Tarsem.

“Oel ngati kameie, olo’eyktan.” Neteyam greeted automatically, bringing his fingers to his forehead before splaying them outward in their traditional greeting.

Tarsem gestured for Neteyam to join them in the circle, “I’ve just been debriefing with your parents and grandmother after tonight’s council meeting. There is much to discuss.” There was a meaningful gleam in Tarsem’s eyes and while it was not malicious or lacking warmth in anyway, Neteyam found it slightly disconcerting. Judging by the clan chief’s earlier comment, they had evidently been speaking of him before his return.

Glancing in turn at his father, mother and grandmother, Neteyam was disappointed to find no reassurance in their doubtful expressions.

Straightening her spine, Mo’at offered diplomatically, “Tarsem perhaps you should let my son and daughter speak to Neteyam of the proposition later in private?”

Tarsem was not convinced, “Why? It’s a good proposal!”

Neteyam saw his father wince slightly and Jake stated, “Brother Tarsem, I’ve already told you that I will not reclaim my position as chief of the Omatikaya. That mantle is yours to keep and by tradition, your successor should be one of your own blood.”

Spiny pinpricks of foreboding tingled in Neteyam’s gut. The contrast in demeanour between Tarsem and his family at whatever proposal they spoke of did not bode well.

With a sigh and shake of his head, Tarsem clapped a heavy hand over Jake’s shoulder, “I can’t force you to resume your position if you so vehemently decline, brother, but I’m glad you have agreed to be my right hand. However, the matter of my son is more severe.”

Getting increasingly uneasy as time went by, and annoyed at being spoken of as if he was not present, Neteyam asked, “What is this proposition about?”

Tarsem appeared pleased and he took a deep inhale, his lean chest and shoulders expanding with his breath. Eyes gleaming with approval, he regarded Neteyam, “The clan council has proposed for you to reclaim your birth right. You will succeed me as olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya clan. I’m sure Leylani will find this favourable. You’ve always had a far firmer head on your shoulders than Tupou has and you’ll be a better partner for her overall.”

Neteyam was speechless. What?... Reclaim his birth right and lead the Omatikaya with Leylani by his side?... No.

***~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***

Author’s Note:

Did this chapter make your heart go 'squeeeee'? It certainly made my heart do that as I was composing it. I swear Neteyam and Naia are too cute. But oh the clan dramas, we had to have some clan drama...

Pour your hearts and minds out to me, my dear readers! Tell me what you're thinking and feeling.

Chapter 3 - A Choice Already Made

#neteyam #atwow neteyam #avatar movie #avatar neteyam #avatar twow #neteyam sully #neteyam x oc #fanfiction #avatar the way of water #avatar james cameron #atwow #avatar #avatar smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully smut #neteyam x you #vivid-ink works

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 years

Text

Unexpected 32

Sequel to Unsolicited

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, car sex, Lloyd being the worst, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Lloyd Hansen is a storm. You can’t stop him, you can only brace yourself for the eventual rain of his presence. For the time being, he is calm and you will let it last as long as you can. But you will keep the windows boarded and the doors shut tight.

His bruises are a pale tint of yellow though he was just as reluctant to leave the bed. You are not more eager to be awake and on your feet but you know you must. You find it harder by the day to stay active but if you slow down, the pain will catch up to you.

So you follow him, after ten minutes of internal turmoil, strapping on your pregnancy belt over a tee and some leggings. Your usual attire as it’s the only thing that fits or offers a degree of comfort for your growing body. You smell cinnamon as you descend, leaning on the banister heavily as you take careful steps, barely able to see your feet past your stomach.

You follow your nose to the kitchen and find Lloyd in a whirlwind, but not his usual tempest. He flips a pancake in the skillet as he looks over his shoulder, a crooked grin under his mustache. He still hasn’t shaved. Is it a new look or neglect? The stubble is getting pretty long.

He wears an apron over his briefs. Nothing else. Not very safe but you don’t mind if he gets a spatter of hot oil. You almost wish you could throw some on him yourself.

“I made decaf,” he announces proudly, “and I have blueberry syrup for you, baby cakes.”

“Blueberry syrup?” You squint as you near the counter, brushing a hand over the curve of your stomach.

“That was a you thing, wasn’t it?”

“A me thing? What are we talking about?”

He uses the spatula to remove the pancakes from the pan and puts them onto a plate, covering them to keep them warm. He sets down the utensil and moves easily to pull down a mug and fills it from the carafe.

“You had some in the crappy old fridge back at the hellhole,” he shrugs, “hidden behind the ketchup.”

You bite the inside of your lip and tilt your head. How did he know that? Besides, why would he even remember that? An overpriced bottle of organic syrup that had Colin halfway down your throat.

“I guess,” you answer nonchalantly, “I don’t mind it.”

“Hm, sure,” he seems disappointed by your lack of enthusiasm, “icing sugar too, if you like.”

“I’ll just have the pancakes,” you accept the mug as he slides it over to you, “thanks.”

He faces you, watching you as you watch him. Your eyelids slit as you warily sip your coffee. His blue irises sparkle menacingly.

“Stop,” he says, “why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” You utter dully.

“Like I put poison in the decaf.”

You pause and pull the cup away from your lips. You give it a long look. Now that you think of it…

“I didn’t,” he huffs, “I can be nice. I’m being nice. Baby,” he puts his hands on his hips, “you gotta let go of old grudges. Once the kiddo is here, we can’t be fighting like cats and dogs. We’re going to be too tired.”

“We’re?” You scoff and carry your cup past him, “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“What?”

“You. Doing anything for anyone else. That has no benefit to you.”

“I’m making you breakfast–”

“You’re getting on my good side so I don’t try to sleep on the lawn again,” you roll your eyes, “and so I don’t smack you every time you touch my ass.”

“Peaches, you’ll see, I’m taking this serious. I’m gonna dad so hard–”

“Mmhmm,” you wave him off without looking back, “and I’m gonna go water the tulips.”

“Tulips? What about breakfast?” He whines.

“It won’t take too long,” you dismiss him, “it’s nice out and I’ll forget.”

He exhales heavily, “since when do you garden?”

“There’s a lot more to me than the contents of my fridge, Lloyd,” you toss back at him as you approach the back door, “some of us have dimension.”

“What? I have–”

You don’t hear his argument. He’s about as dimensional as those pancakes. Flat. Just a mustache that talks too much. Even if he uses that mustache to your advantage. You know him. He pretends to be complicated but he’s really rather simple. Maybe his complexity is that he’s simple in more ways than one.

You balance your coffee tenuously as you go down the back steps. You near the corner of the house and unwind the long house from around the plastic wheel. Harlen installed it while he was there. You take the head with the trigger and tug it around the east wall with one hand. Your progress is slow as you try not to spill the decaf.

You stand before your little plot of blooming stems and aim the hose, pushing down as you sprinkle water over the dirt. You should do some weeding but it’s getting harder and harder to get down that low. Even before you were this big, your back could make bending, squatting, or kneeling a task.

You turn the hose head back and forth, sending an even shower across the patch. Content, you let go of the trigger and gulp back more coffee. You’re going to miss the peace you found in the garden now Lloyd is back. You were ready to let it go for the baby, but you really weren’t prepared to do so this soon.

Footsteps hit the pavement on the other side of the gate and you peek over. You narrow your eyes. You should get those checked. You recognise the figure on the other side as he stops and waves.

You let the hose hang off the iron rooster ornament sticking out of the soil and waddle to the path. You follow it down to meet Andy at the iron grate. You’re slightly confused but don’t mind wasting time.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

“Just out for a run,” he says, cheeks slightly tinged pink as he catches his breath, “I saw you out here and figured I’d ask.”

“Ask?”

“You know, I got some of Lori’s things still, thought maybe you might want some. I’ve been meaning to do something with them but I haven’t made up my mind.”

“Lori? Your wife?” You’re slightly taken aback. You’re not really in the market for a dead woman’s earrings.

“It’s only taking up space. I’d be happy to know they went to a good home.”

“Mm, I don’t know, there’s not much I need…” you shrug but notice the way he stares, expectant, hopeful. It might not be about the stuff, maybe just about the company. You can’t say you aren’t lacking for that as well. “Well, I guess I could have a look through, see if there’s anything I’m missing.”

“Great, I can bring a box over later,” he offers, “tonight or tomorrow, if you’re not busy.”

“I…” you glance back at the house, “we’ll have to see.”

“Yeah, you must be busy,” he wipes his glistening forehead, “getting ready for the baby. Well, you know where I am. You can always come knock on my door.”

“Thanks, Andy, that’s… very nice of you.”

You force a smile. You never really were a neighbourly person. Mostly, you’ve lived next to people even more miserable than yourself. Those who can only afford shitholes don’t typically tend to be optimistic.

“So, you didn’t say if it’s a boy or a girl. Do you know?” He prompts.

“Uh, oh,” you look down at your stomach, “a girl.”

“Wow, I always wanted a girl. Jacob was a good kid but… maybe he wouldn’t have gotten in so much trouble if he had a sibling or two.” His cheek tightens and he turns his head slightly, “Lori couldn’t, you know? She just had him. Her body just couldn’t handle any more than that.”

“I’m sorry, Andy–”

“I told you, don’t be,” he shakes his head, meeting your eyes, “I should be sorry. I try not to talk about them but I can’t help it.”

“You have every right to talk about them. We can’t help who we miss,” you assure him, “hell, sometimes I miss my ex-husband.”

“Ex? Lloyd’s–”

“Number two,” you sigh, “yeah.”

“Hmm, interesting.”

“Is it?”

“Oh, yeah, he’s not really the type to settle for being the second choice.”

You nod. He’s right but he also has no idea about how fucked Lloyd really is.

“It’s complicated,” you say, “anyway,” you look into your nearly empty cup, “I think I should go back before breakfast gets cold.”

“Sure thing, neighbour,” he grins and for a moment, you hesitate. Beneath his thick beard, there’s an odd reminder in the cut of his jaw, you’re reminded of Lloyd’s overgrown stubble, “you need any help with that garden, let me know. I’ve got a bit of a green thumb.”

“Will do,” you say as you raise your mug awkwardly and turn on your heel, “see ya.”

You set off back towards the house. The door is open as your husband stands watching you. Even from a distance, you sense his impatience. It’s in his posture and his steady gaze. You can’t handle an argument over cold pancakes. Not with only decaf to bolster you.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #unexpected #dark drabble #dark!drabble #drabble #series #the gray man

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ambersgems · 2 years

Text

Bonded - Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Soulmate AU where you can feel your soulmate's emotions. When you meet, usually their name appears on your wrist.

A/N: This is my first written piece on here, so any feedback is appreciated/welcomed! It was kind of rushed so not my best work lol. I'm not sure if I want a second part to this or not, so let me know if you'd like to see a continuation. I also would love requests for anything Dean, Chris Evans characters, or Sebastian Stan characters! It can be blurbs, drabbles, or longer! Oh, also I imagine Dean being around 28/29 here while reader is approaching 25.

Word Count: 1.4K

Something was wrong. You knew as soon as your eyes flew open that you weren’t going back to bed anytime soon. Your hand was placed on your chest, heart beating increasingly faster as you laid in the dark. You tried to think back. Were you having a bad dream? No. This must be him. It happened more frequently than you’d like. You’d wake up in the middle of the night, heart pounding and palms sweating. Each time you could feel it, the danger. He was in danger. You just knew it.

You wondered what he did for a living that would cause him to land himself in such terrifying situations so often. Was he in the military? Maybe he was an adrenaline junky or a storm chaser? Whatever it was, you found yourself silently praying that he survived whatever was causing his fight or flight response to trigger once again.

Swinging your legs off the side of the bed, your feet hit the cool hardwood floors and cause you to shiver. You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to stand and get out of bed to wander into the kitchen. You weren’t exactly sure if he felt your emotions too or not. How could you know if you haven't met him yet? There were times like now that you hoped desperately that he could. Maybe, just maybe, he could feel you trying to calm him in whatever capacity that you could. Sometimes that meant making chamomile tea and reading a book to try and lower his stress response or sometimes it meant a hot shower to relax the intense muscles you felt in your body from him.

There were other times, however, that you hoped he really couldn’t feel your emotions the way you could feel his. He seemed to already have enough on his plate, with the intense nights and at times what could only be described as heartache. You didn’t know what he was going through, but you knew you didn’t want to add your baggage to it.

So, when you cried at work the other day, you dried your eyes as quickly as possible, not wanting to burden him if he felt the same heaviness in his chest as you did. It was the same situation at home, though. You tried your hardest not to give into the depths of your lonely despair. After all, most of your friends had already found their soulmate, but yours seemed to be nowhere to be found. There were times that the only way to drown out the hurt was to just stay disconnected. When you weren’t actively trying to calm your mystery man, you tried your best to ignore him.

You didn’t want to get your hopes up. There were plenty of people in this world who never met their soulmate, and they were left to live a life without them. You’d actually witnessed your friend’s first interaction with her soulmate.

When you two were back at college, she was a barista at your local coffee shop, while you were a research assistant for one of your professors. You kept completely different hours, which is why on that particular day, you decided to hang out with her in the coffee shop to spend some more time with her, even if you were just studying at one of the tables. She had been anxious all morning, and you knew it wasn’t her emotions that she was feeling. She was a naturally confident person, never second guessing herself, but that morning she was a frenzied mess. She even told you herself that it felt like it was her soulmate and not her own emotions.

After she had wiped down the tables for the billionth time that morning, a gangly and somewhat dorky guy came rushing into the shop. You could practically feel the anxiety buzzing from him as soon as he came in, pushing his dark framed glasses up his nose and clumsily slipping on the newly mopped floors. There was a loud smack, and the next thing you knew you watched as your friend reached her hand out to help the guy sit up. What really took your attention was the groaning that came from both parties. You watched them both wince in pain, looking down as they watched each other's names etch into the other’s wrist at the same time. It was like the world clicked into place for them both at that very moment.

It turned out, Luke was a law school student, cramming for a very important exam that morning. His naturally anxious personality was quite the opposite of your friend’s, but they seemed to work together in harmony.

Fast forward and they were still the picture perfect couple. He doted on her more than any man you’d ever seen, and she was head over heels for her nerdy guy. It was sweet, but you hated to admit how hard it was to be around them. You were happy for them both, but it stung to know that you were getting closer to the Age of Choice than you wanted to be. In a mere 8 months you’d be free to make a decision you never wanted to make.

Age 25 meant you were at what was called the “Age of Choice.” You could choose whether or not you wanted to marry your soulmate. If you hadn’t met them by 25, you had the right to choose someone else. You didn’t have to wait any longer to marry someone else, and somehow that hurt worse than not having met your soulmate. What if he had already reached the Age of Choice and he had already decided on someone else? The thought gripped your chest harder than you would like to admit.

All of these thoughts ran through your mind as you made your tea in the kitchen, reliving your friend’s soulmate encounter and your fear for the future. You ran on autopilot as you thought about all of these things, finally making your way to the couch to perform your calm down ritual for your soulmate. It took all of about 90 minutes to feel like you had completely settled his nerves. By the time you had realized he had calmed down, you had fallen asleep on the couch.

This time your eyes flew open for a different reason. The loud blaring of your alarm was unwelcomed by your lack of sleep as you wandered back to your bed to turn it off. It was times like this you were glad you had a studio apartment.

The morning seemed to get away from you. This time it was your turn to be the anxious party. You really couldn’t afford to be late to work this morning. Your boss had scheduled a very important meeting 15 minutes after the workday began and a day filled with projects that need to be completed “ASAP” as your boss would like to say.

As soon as you entered the office, the atmosphere was different than any other day. You could feel it. Everyone seemed to be stiff and uncomfortable. You didn’t understand until two men turned around at the front desk.

“You must be Miss Y/L/N?” the tallest one asks as your brows furrow. You didn’t recognize either of the two men, but you studied them as quickly as you could.

“That’s me. Can I ask who you are?” you questioned, trying to be polite, but not wanting to deal with anything else this morning that you didn’t have to.

“I’m agent Smith and this is agent Jones, we are here to ask you a few questions about your boss,” the shorter of the two answered, reaching out and grabbing your hand.

You hiss and your eyes burn with tears as you look into his green ones, shock filling your body as you yank your hand away from his. Looking down, you see the name “Dean” etching itself into your wrist. Your hands shake as you look up at the tall man, confusion covering your face when you don’t see your name on his wrist.

He groans, hand gripping his chest. He pulls at the buttons, looking down and seeing your name written right over his heart and underneath another strange looking tattoo. Your mouth falls open as your eyes widen, swallowing thickly.

“Well, sweetheart, looks like we’re not only soulmates, we’re bonded. And we need to have a conversation,” you hear ‘Dean’ say gruffly, a smirk dancing on his lips.

Tagged by request:

@imaginedreamwrite

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #spn #spnfandom #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester drabble #requests open #taking requests #chris evans #chris evans characters #sebastian stan #sebastian stan characters #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester/reader #supernatural

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r0guedr0id · 11 months

Text

The Unknown Regions III

A Din Djarin x Fem Plus Size Reader Fic

Summary: You, a soft astrophysicist, meet the hardened Mandalorian in less-than-ideal circumstances. Your abilities will lead to you crossing the galaxy together in search of his green son.

Read Chapter 1 | Read Chapter 2

Warnings: Expect conversations about weight, body dysmorphia and internalised fatphobia that may be triggering, so read at your own discretion; injuries and blood; canon typical violence; reader is AFAB and user she/her pronouns; no use of y/n; smut to come in next chapters; porn with plot; plot with porn; Din Djarin need a hug and a fuck.

Word count: 2,777

A/N: Forget reader for not knowing anything about Mandalorians, let's just pretend she was just so focused studying the planets! In my head she's an Inner Rim girlie too, so not much info about Mandos reaching her planet there, I hope you enjoy going inside Din`s mind for a while! I hope it doesn't feels too off since going inside the tin can brain is a lot of guess work hehe. Anyways, I love you so much for reading this and value a LOT your comments, it's very difficult for me to respond to them but I do my best to overcome the anxiety.

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

“We need to stop.”

The sound of your voice over the speeder’s motor startled Din. He had just achieved not being aware of every part of his body touching yours when you spoke in your beautiful tone. You both had been traveling across the desert for a while now, in that time not a soul crossed your path. The truth was that you were a good driver, and Din could have even relaxed if he wasn’t so preoccupied with Grogu´s whereabouts. He was confident about the little boy`s abilities and also sure that Karga was moving Heaven and Earth to find his child. But he wouldn´t rest until his thumb was again between his claws.

Din had another pressing problem too. And it was you. He had been actively trying to fight his arousal during your ride. Dank Farrik, it was taking all of his discipline to stop his hips from moving as close to yours as he desired. But you were a sweet, good-hearted woman who was helping him selflessly and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by any means. He would have to restrain himself just a little more.

“What?” He managed to ask after a moment. You turned a bit in your seat, confident that any obstacle was in sight, and he could admire your profile against Tatooine’s sunset.

“Your bandages, it’s been a while, we have to change them.” Din swallowed thinking about what he remembered as a fever dream: last night, your soft hands over his naked torso trying desperately to keep him alive. He shivered at the only thought of being touched with such delicacy again. He didn´t want to stop nevertheless, he wanted to be as soon as possible inside the Crest, ready to fly wherever Grogu was.

“It’s getting cold, too,” You said, thinking that his shiver was related to the temperature. “If we are fast, I think we’ll arrive by nightfall.” A silence went by while he weighed his options, but then remembered what you said about not being useful to his son if the was septic. He sighed heavily.

“Okay.”

The spot where you decided to stop was a bit more hidden than the open dunes. Din didn’t want to have any surprises while he was vulnerable, even though he would remain vigilant all the time. He’d do the treatment himself if the nasty burn wasn’t in the most awkward place across his side. It looked like he’d need to rely on you once more. And wasn´t he enjoying that secretly?

“I’m sorry for burning you.” You were on your knees while he rested against a rock, medical supplies on display across your lap. He observed your guilty expression, beautiful brows curving downwards in a cute frown.

“You saved my life.” He offered, stopping for a second the process of removing his armor. It was a moment of silence where you two just stared at each other until he resumed working on his padded vest.

When he was bare (his undershirt had ended useless after having to cut through it), you couldn’t hold a heavy sigh that Din noticed. He caught your gaze on him and felt exposed, not used to being seen even without his cuirass. It looked like you felt his uneasiness because your hands started to work fast in the bandages. He tried to look away while your fingers grazed here and there his raw skin, tender and welcoming.

“It seems like everything is healing well.” He could hear the smile on your voice, and without looking he knew your full cheeks were looking round and beautiful. “I smuggled some bacta patches from work that would do even a better job.” He just nodded, grateful and wanting this to be finished as soon as possible. Every muscle in him was tense while he was actively trying not to dwell on how delicious you smelled.

“I’m going to clean the wound first.” You informed him since he was looking away. The gentle touches provoked his chest to tighten and goosebumps started to form on Din’s skin. “Does it hurt?” Your voice carried a lot of worry and he felt bad.

“Sweet girl, if you only knew.” He thought, biting his lip under the helmet.

“Just hurry up please.” His voice came hoarser than he intended and he cleared his throat before speaking again. “Tell me about your job.” He said in a softer tone, intending to distract himself from the fire of your touch. He finally surrendered to turn his helmet to you again, and maker, what a sight. You were so, so close to him and your cheeks were rosy because of the sun. But the better part was seeing your eyes, lighted up like stars because of Din´s question.

“I’m an astrophysicist. Currently, I’m studying The Unknown Regions at the observatory. Trying to map them and gathering information about their systems.” It was clear you loved your job since your voice became so joyful and full of wonder in a moment. So you were a smart girl. Din knew how difficult calculations were even inside the mapped space. He saw you under another light now, but his interest didn’t show because he just nodded and remained silent as always, thinking about what to say next. Small talk wasn’t his forte. But looking at how your smile started to fade made him panic as he didn’t want you to feel bad. So he tried again.

“For us Mandalorians, knowing our way around the galaxy is essential. Space navigation and calculating hyperspace jumps are as important as blaster training.” You were the one that remained silent this time, gaze fixated on his wounds while applying the bacta patches carefully. It was probably the longest sentence he had spoken since you had met and he was suddenly self-aware of how he sounded. He started getting nervous when you didn´t answer. Prejudice against Mandalorians was usual among the galaxy, and it wouldn´t surprise Din that you’d been fed the same stories about them.

“So that’s who you are? A Mandalorian?” You asked curiously when you were finished with the patches. Oh, you weren’t mad, just concentrated. Din sighed in relief, feeling instantly ashamed of his concern. “You can dress now, I brought some ration packs if you’re hungry before leaving.”Din started working in his armor once again, fast and efficient, but trying to avoid the tender spots you had just dressed.

“So Mando is short for Mandalorian.” You realized munching a ration bar, speaking more to yourself than anything. When he was finished, you offered another one for him and also the water flask and a thermos with warm broth. When Din refused, your elegant brows joined in a cute annoyed face. “You have to eat something or you’ll faint before finding your son, Mando.”

Your threat worked so he grabbed the food you were offering, but just stood awkwardly there. You tilted your head in a silent question. Din realized then you didn’t know anything about Mandalorian culture.

“I…I can’t show my helmet…face…so…” Din blamed the blood loss for his lack of eloquence, but it looked like you caught the concept. Your smile was so kind when you looked at him understanding.

“Sure! Then if you excuse me, I’ll go use the bathroom to give you some privacy.” You said standing up nervously and shaking all the sand from your clothes. You avoided his gaze al looked embarrassed, probably thinking she had offended him.

“Be careful.” Din said when you started walking towards a nearby rock formation. Turning to him, your expression was amused when you spoke.

“Afraid some of some lizard biting my ass, Mando?” You giggled and disappeared behind the improvised restroom.

“There are far worse things than lizards in this land!” He responded, but the harm was already done: now he would be thinking about your ass again after fighting the thought for hours during your ride. It looked so plush, so rounded, and Din found him conjuring the image of how his hand would feel grabbing a handful of it and…

“Are you done?” You asked, cutting his daydreaming short. Dank Farrik, he was worse than a teenager. He then practically absorbed the food before giving you the green light, and shortly after you were both on your way to Mos Eisley again.

As you had calculated, the twin suns had just set when you made it through the city’s door. With Din’s indications, it wasn’t long until you arrived to Hangar 3-5. Due to the time, Peli had already finished her work day, so the first ones to say hi were a trembling R5 and the mechanic droids Mando despised.

“Tell Peli I’m here” You both didn’t wait long for the curly haired woman, who was chewing a plate of suspiciously-looking meat.

“I’m charging you extra for arriving after opening hours! I just roasted the biggest womp rat ever and it’s going to get cold!” She then eyed the woman piloting the speeder and smirked. But when she and Din got out of the vehicle she noticed the lack of a certain gremlin.

“Where’s the little one, Mando?” Her grumpy façade broke when she didn’t even see the hover pram around. Din felt like he was being gutted. He looked at his feet ashamed and defeated.

“They’ve taken him.” It was painful to speak and he felt how his eyes became glazy. Din thanked the helmet in situations like this. He turned his head when he felt a warm, soft hand just where his pauldrons ended. It was you, trying to comfort him silently. Your expression was shy, but your grip was steady and it somewhat grounded him. Peli looked at you both, brows up in silent amusement and Din caught the expression, feeling like his face was on fire.

“I’ll have the Crest ready in a second.” Peli said, keeping to herself any snarky remark going through her brain. “You better find the little one.” He added with a menacing finger against his cuirass, and Din could only nod. The bounty hunter didn’t tell her he didn’t know where to start looking. If he had his helmet off, he'd be pinching the bridge of his nose, but for now he could just stand there awkwardly twitching his fingers. You had been silent all the time, and Din realized that the dreadful moment had arrived.

“Tell the droids to refuel your bike, it’s on me.” He offered, not knowing how to address the elephant in the room. Din hadn’t noticed when, but you had removed your helmet and now your hair was framing lovingly your pretty face. Tatooine’s three moons made your skin glow like beskar and… Dank Farrik was he an idiot. “Uh…it’s not safe to cross the desert now.” A bit of common sense returned to him when he realized he couldn´t just send you home. He looked to his ship, then to his hands, and then to your pretty face again. All options were worse than each other. Inviting you to his ship? The Crest was probably kriffing uncomfortable for someone as you, he had seen your house, you liked to be surrounded by beautiful things, soft fabrics, like the carpet he had ruined with his blood. It didn´t look appropriate either He got nervous just imagining it. The other alternative was a hotel, but any of them on this side of the city was as unsafe as riding the desert alone in the middle of the night. But finally, his lust-clouded brain came up with something.

“I can drop you by the compound if you put the bike inside the cargo bay.” Maker, why did he have to sound so unsure with you? He felt like an idiot. But it looked like you had been waiting patiently for him to figure things out and just smiled in agreement.

“That would be really thoughtful Mando.” Thoughtful? How dare you say that after driving a stranger across the desert because he had his butt beaten up and his son kidnapped? Okay, it made a good sob story, but nevertheless. Your heart was made of gold. Din then froze for a moment. In his line of work, when things looked too good to be true, he should always be suspicious. He looked at your kind eyes under the moon. Dank Farrik it was almost painful to mistrust you.

“Ship’s ready!” Peli announced cleaning her hands from grease with a rag, followed by her droids. She looked to you and then to Din, and you smiled amicably to her and then proceeded to secure the bike inside of the cargo bay, leaving him and Peli alone.

“She looks like a good one Mando.” Peli nudged his bruised side and smiled with her incomplete dentition. Din couldn’t hide a groan of pain.

“You haven’t even spoken to her.” He responded exasperated, while handing her the credits he owed.

“Call it women’s intuition.” She ended the conversation returning to her kitchen to that roasted womp rat, leaving Din confused as hell.

In the meantime, it looked like you were ready on the top of the ramp, and you were just looking around uncomfortably while trying not to be too nosy. Din had noticed that one of your many virtues was your politeness and how you didn't make him feel uncomfortable.

“She seems nice.” You commented when Din had climbed the ramp. He chuckled dryly for a moment, and with the modulator it could have been missed for a cough.

“She’s a menace.”

You both were sitting in silence inside of the cockpit while Din covered the distance between Mos Eisley and the Observatory’s compound. What it had looked like a long ride, passed in the blink of an eye, and you were amazed at how fast a ship could move in atmo too. It wasn’t long until the control tower asked about your credentials to land, and you provided the employee number given to you. The landing was gentle and before you could realize it, you were just sitting there staring awkwardly at Mando. You didn´t want to leave.

On the other hand, Mando looked as frozen as you. Neither of you had said absolutely anything since abandoning Peli’s Hangar as if the reality of his son’s kidnapping had finally hit him. You didn’t want what to say. A million things passed through your mind, but any of them seemed adequate. Finally, you gathered the courage to stand up and Mando just kept his visor on you. The silence was thick and uncomfortable.

“I’m… I’m gonna get the speeder.” You finally said, pointing vaguely downwards, but not making any move. He nodded and you felt disappointed. He had just lost his son. What were you thinking? Him asking you on a date? He didn’t look like he did the whole dating thing anyway.

But then that particular thought installed inside your brain, landed like a ship in your head before you could stop it. How dare you? How dare you think you had any opportunity with Mando? Someone like him couldn’t possibly be attracted to you. Warriors valued strong, fit bodies. And you were the opposite of that. Your mood soured and you were just prepared to exit the cockpit when the cabin’s commlink went to live.

“Mando!” The same grey-bearded man from before appeared as a holo, his hand on his hips in a serious demeanor. “I have good and bad news for you.” The bounty hunter turned his body to face Greef Karga, giving him his full attention. “We know who has the kid and where are they taking him.”

“How is that bad news?” You interrupted, without containing your joy at the information. You didn’t know anything about the child, but you were already so invested in his recovery.

“They are taking him to the Unknown Regions, sweetheart. Unmapped Wild Space.” Karga explained with a gloomy demeanor. “It will be almost impossible to find him there…” He looked as devastated as the boy’s dad had looked before. However, Mando was still in silence although now his back looked straighter and more posture more confident. Maker, he even looked wider than before. He slowly turned his visor to look at you.

Maybe you weren’t confident with your body sometimes. But the thing you were sure of was your wits. So when you spoke, without looking away from Mando’s visor, it sounded almost cocky how self-assured you were. Your smile, not the sweet welcoming one, but an intelligent, mischievous grin, adorned your face when you spoke.

“It’s a pity for the kidnapers that I’m precisely an expert on that.”

Next Chapter

#din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin smut #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x y/n #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian smut #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #droidwrites

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ssaflorencem · 11 months

Text

The thrill of killing you| BAU x unsub reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. This contains mentions of SA and CSA. It is not graphic detail at all but please do not read if that is something that triggers you. Mention of weapons. Murder (not graphic detail at all again). Also I hope this all flows and makes sense, I’ve read over and over again so it kinda of feels like it doesn’t make sense.

Summary: this is both from your POV and Hotchners POV. This is present day, and the BAU are catching on to there been a serial killer.

Chapter two: Death of a party

Your POV:

You hadn’t been caught so far; you were safe for now. You left no DNA, you changed your location, you didn’t kill in the same state for at least a year. You hadn’t changed a lot since your first kill, accept you now never left letters, you couldn’t have a signature, you couldn’t let anyone knew that you existed.

Sometimes, when you were just doing your day-to-day activities, you would look at someone and wonder if they were a rapist, a murderer, or someone just as bad. That’s when you would think of all the people you had killed, and what they had done. Then you would think about the people who were still alive and whether they were like those people.

You had a strict moral code, but you did what you did to protect others, it was the only thing you were certain of. It was the only thing you had be certain of for a while.

‘The moral code I follow is simple, it is this:

I will not kill unless I know for a fact the target is a rapist.

I will kill rapists, even if they are not in my area.

I will kill serial rapists/child molesters/abusers/human traffickers.

I will not kill anyone who does not deserve it.

I will not get caught.’

And while you had this moral code, you still enjoyed the rush your kills brought.

You were doing what the police should be doing, but you found out a long time ago that the police, especially the FBI, do not care about abusers they only cared about murderers. They only cared when it resulted in someone’s death. The people you killed had to die, that was the only way the people they had hurt would get any justice. You knew it was only you who could make the difference. You had committed yourself to this. You had no choice.

See, when the FBI did go after a criminal, they used profiling, or to put it in a better perspective, guess work. They would use the minimal evidence they had and find someone who fit the profile. You though, you had information you had names, you had the faces of abusive. You did research, you made sure the person you were about to kill was guilty.

You just wished that you could have hunted all abusers, but unless you were part of a team that would be nearly impossible.

You were not going to get caught, you knew that. You made sure all evidence was covered up, you made sure all your bases were covered. You did your research, and you knew that you were safe.

You read about a story of a man who was a rapist, not as bad as some of the others you had killed, but he still did it. His name was John Andrew Hamm, he was a teacher and would give his students alcohol or drugs and then rape them. He was a sick bastard. He had been abusing since the eighties. He was arrested numerous times, but his charges were dropped every time, the main reason was because his victims were too afraid to speak up. They were his students, and with the influence he had on the school board he was protected. He was a monster.

You knew everything about him now, his routine. He was, apart from been a monster, a simple man. While he had a lot of influence, and he was well known, he had no friends, he was not married, and he had no children of his own. He lived by himself, he never had anyone over, and he never went out. God, you almost felt sad for him, but then you remembered everything else about him.

*Ten years ago, *

You only talked Dutch at home now, your mom refused to speak English and she didn’t dare to talk Swedish anymore. It had been seven years since your mom and dad divorced, and they had a good co-parenting relationship. You often stayed weekends with your dad, which your mom with fine. But then once you turned 18 your mom refused you to see your dad.

“Ik wil niet dat je, je vader nog ziet. Hij is niet de persoon die je denkt dat hij is.”

I don’t want you seeing your dad anymore. He is not the person you think he is.

“Mam, ik begrijp het niet. Tot nu toe vond je het goed dat ik hem zag. Nu ik volwassen ben, wil je niet meer dat ik hem zie. Dat is niet logisch.”

Mom, I don’t understand. You were okay with me seeing him, until now. But now I’m adult, you don’t want me to see him anymore. That doesn’t make sense.

And every time you brought up your dad, she would basically say the same stuff. It had been a year of her saying; he just isn’t the person you think he is. You were sick of hearing it, why couldn’t she just say who he truly was.

You knew if you truly wanted to find out who he was then you were going to have to find out all by yourself. Which was going to be hard as seen as your mom wouldn’t say anything, and you knew your dad wouldn’t.

*Present day*

You waited for Mr Hamm to start his typically Saturday routine. Which was going to his local grocery store to do his weekly shopping.

As you followed him around the store, you couldn't help but feel disgusted by his presence. You watched him as he mindlessly placed items in his cart, completely unaware of the fate that awaited him.

You had planned this for weeks, meticulously going over every detail to ensure that there was no way you could get caught.

As you followed him out of the store, you made sure to keep a safe distance. You didn't want to give him any indication that you were following him.

He walked down the street and into his car, not noticing you following behind. You waited until he drove off before starting your own car. You had already prepared everything you needed in your trunk, including the tools necessary to carry out your plan.

You followed him for another ten minutes, watching as he turned into his driveway. You parked a few houses down, making sure that your car was hidden from view. This was the moment you had been waiting for.

You stepped out of your car and walked towards his house. He was taking his food in to his house. You took a breath; you had planned this, and it wasn’t your first time.

“Erm, excuse me.” You said in a low tone, it was loud enough for him to hear you. He slowly turned around, his face was neutral, no smile, no nothing really. If you didn’t know what you knew about him you wouldn’t have been able to guess, not from just looking at him.

“Are you okay?” he said in an almost friendly tone. His voice suited his looks, but not his personality.

“Yes. Yes, I am. I’m new to the area, I was wondering if you knew the woods are good to hunt it?” His neutral face had contoured into one of a happy face. His brown eyes were looking you up and down. He was trying to get a feel of you. You felt like he was undressing you with his eyes.

“They are. I can show you some of the best areas if you want?” Man, that was just a friendly gestured. If you weren’t genuinely asking for help you would have fallen for his trap.

“If you don’t mind, I would love. I’ve got my gun in my car. I’ll go grab it” You wanted to let him know you were armed.

He nods his head, not suspecting a thing. As you make your way back to your car, you feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins. You know what you have to do, and you're ready to do it. You grab your weapon and make your way back to his house.

He's waiting outside for you when you arrive, smiling as he takes you deeper into the woods. You keep your guard up, knowing that he's still dangerous despite his friendly demeanour. You follow him for a few minutes before stopping in a clearing.

"This is one of my favourite spots," he says, gesturing to the trees around you. "You should be able to find some good game here."

You nod, pretending to be interested in his hobby. You keep your eyes on him, waiting for the right moment. It comes when he turns his back to you, looking out into the woods.

You raise your weapon take aim at him.

“What’s good game to you Mr Hamm? School girls? The students you teach?” He looks at you, shocked you knew his name and what type of person he was. His friendly, happy demeanour had gone. His face was now full of fear.

“How do you know my name? Why are you saying such terrible stuff about me?” Oh god, did he really think this was going to work on you. You weren’t new to the game.

“Shut up. Let me talk, you hold no power here. Don’t lie to me, I know everything about you. If you were smart, which you really aren’t, I’d start praying now. Because you won’t be able to soon.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never done anything wrong.” You sigh, this guy is such a terrible liar.

“Oh, but you have. You’ve done so much wrong. Do you know how many victims you have?” He looks down, nervously shaking his head. You smirk. This was too easy. He had no game; he had no plan. He was nothing.

“You have 17 victims. I know that for a fact. I’ve seen the proof.” He looks at you in disbelief.

Aaron Hotchner POV

The BAU had been called in for a case, one happening in a small town in Montana. The police chief that had called us in had a hunch, he said we didn’t have to take the case, but he would like us to look over the case files.

I called the team in and gathered them around the round table, I didn’t want Garcia to present this one as she didn’t have all the information. I looked at everyone around the table, I knew if we did take on this case it would be a hard one. The person who had been killed was an apparent rapist, it wasn’t for me to comment on whether he deserved to die but it was on us to find out who killed him.

“Okay guys. This case is different. I mean we have had ones like this before, but there is only one apparent body at this time. A body of a man called Mr Hamm has been found in Lewistown, Montana. He has been accused of some crimes, and the police believe this was a vigilante kill”.

The team nodded in agreement, knowing what this case would entail. I continued, "This is going to be a tough one. We need to find out who did this and bring them to justice. We don't condone vigilante justice; it only leads to chaos."

We all got to work, looking through the files and interviewing the people in the small town. It was clear that there was a lot of tension between the locals and Mr Hamm, who had a history of sexual assault. But it was also clear that the locals were protecting whoever had killed him.

As the days passed, we started to get some leads. We discovered that Mr Hamm had been in a relationship with a woman named Rachel. She had suffered at the hands of Mr Hamm and had been seeking revenge. It was plausible that she had killed him, but we needed concrete evidence.

We decided to bring Rachel in for questioning. As we were driving to her house, I couldn't shake off the feeling that something wasn't right. There was multiple people in this town who could have killed, who had a motive to do this. But his body was clothed, he wasn’t tortured. It was a quick and simple kill.

I got a call from Garcia;

“Hey sir, I’ve been doing some research, and this is the fifth kill in Montana over the past five years. I mean there has been more murders, but I mean of this kind. A man murdered in some woods, but the man has been accused of crimes but never convicted. I think there is a connection.”

“Well, I mean there could just be a lot of vigilante murderers happening. This isn’t just a hunch is it Garcia, you’re better than this.”

“No, it’s not. They all are killed by a similar gun, and nothing else is done to them other than been killed.”

“I’m sure there is more than just five accused rapists in Montana, and a year is a long cooling off period.”

“Well, I’ve been looking across the entire US and, in every state, apart from Alaska, there are these kinds of murders happening for the past five years. I mean in Ohio there have been a few more. But I think, I think there is a connection here I just can’t see it.”

As Garcia spoke, my mind was racing. This was not just a simple case of vigilante justice; this was a serial killer. A serial killer who had been operating for five years and had somehow managed to avoid detection. I knew then that this was going to be the toughest case we had ever worked on.

We arrived at Rachel's house, and she willingly came with us to the station. As we questioned her, I could see the fear in her eyes. She denied any involvement in the murder of Mr Hamm, but I could tell she was hiding something. We needed to find out what that was.

As we continued to investigate, we discovered that there were other suspects in the small town. People who had a motive to kill Mr Hamm and had the opportunity to do so. It was becoming clear that this case was not going to be solved easily. We were going to have to dig deep and work hard to solve it.

Days turned into weeks, and we were no closer. We had to go back to Quantico as there was other serial killers to catch but I knew everyone had been keeping an eye on this case, especially Garcia.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #aaron hotch x reader #spencer reid x reader #jenifer jareau #luke alvez #aaron hotchner smut #spencer reid smut

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ghostofskywalker · 9 months

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i am so tired right now and accidentally deleted the ask instead of clicking "answer", so this ficlet is for an anon who requested "can our goal be not to die today" - "that seems like a lot to ask" with harley quinn! i hope you enjoy it :)

words: 818

What a Night

summary: you should have known what you were getting into when you began hanging out with her, but of course sometimes love is truly blind.

harley quinn masterlist || request a winter ficlet!

“Hey Harley!” you yelled from the passenger seat of the car.

She didn’t listen, and you didn’t really have a way to confirm this from where you were sitting, but you had a feeling that the gas pedal of the car you were riding in was practically resting on the floor of the car, and she had no intention of changing that any time soon.

“What’s up pumpkin?” How she had the confidence to look over and shoot you a smile while the car was weaving in and out of Gotham traffic at full speed was beyond your comprehension, and you certainly didn’t feel safer for it.

“Can our goal be not to die today?”

Something (you thought it might have been a whole watermelon, but you honestly weren’t too sure) came flying off the truck in front of you, and Harley swerved just before it made contact with the windshield. “I don’t know!” she called out, as even though the windows were closed the radio was turned up inexplicably loud. “That seems like a lot to ask!”

“I don’t feel like it is!”

The sound of gunshots joined the cacophony of Gotham’s night noises, and you were sure that they had to be raining down all around the car. You should have really expected some kind of chaos to start when you hang around Harley, and maybe you should have said no to tonight, but you couldn’t help it. Even now, with a manic glint in her eye as she played fast and loose with the traffic rules of Gotham (and your lives), you could see something special about her, and it wasn’t just the crazy color combinations she wore.

Maybe falling in love was admitting when you’re too doomed to ignore it, and there was no questioning that anymore. You thought that your friendship with the exuberant ex-criminal was right at the point where it could shift to be something more, and you couldn’t help the way you hoped that something would happen to trigger that change in the near future. You would have never guessed that you would be speeding through the streets of Gotham with her, but you supposed this probably wasn’t the craziest thing she’s ever done.

Thankfully, it felt like the stakes of the evening took a momentary pause when Harley pulled into an alley and opened the driver’s door of the car. “What are you doing?” you called, just finally beginning to gather your bearings about what was going on.

“No time to explain!” she called, right as she took off running. “Follow me!”

With what you felt like was no other choice, you obeyed, and the two of you finally ended up in an abandoned warehouse. Old building materials, shattered window shards, and forgotten furniture laid beneath a thick blanket of dust, and you were just thankful to finally be granted a moment this evening in which you weren’t in active danger of dying.

“Who were those people?” you asked between heaving pants, wishing that you had access to water (or something else to quench your thirst).

Harley shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said, with a tone that was way too nonchalant for your liking. “I can hardly ever keep track of who wants to kill me these days.”

“Can we leave this place?”

Again, she shrugged, the smile on her face only growing. “Why would you want to?”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Have you seen this place? I don’t think it’s been in use since before Batman was born.”

She just laughed, reaching down to take your hand. “Fine grumpy. I can take you home now, how’s that?”

“Are we actually going to make it there, or are we going to die two blocks away?”

“I don’t know!” She giggled as she began to pull you back towards the car. “And isn’t that the fun part of all this?”

“I think you and I have different definitions of fun Harley.”

“Oh?” she stopped in her tracks. “And what would you consider fun?”

“I don’t know, maybe dinner out somewhere? Anywhere where I’m not in mortal peril, really.”

You hadn’t even realized what you said until you watched her expression shift. “Is this your way of asking me out?”

Maybe it was the insane car chase you had just experienced, a side effect of the adrenaline that was so obviously pumping through your body right now, but you didn’t shy away. “And what if it is? Would you say yes?”

Harley answered your question by leaning in to steal a kiss from you, just before she turned and sprinted away from you, gleeful laughter escaping her mouth as she shouted something about racing her back to the car.

And with the potential of another kiss (and one even better than that) suddenly on the table, you took off running after her, this time a little less worried about your life.

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

#winterficlets23 #harley quinn #harley quinn x reader #harley quinn x you #harley quinn fanfiction #dc x reader

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thisisbugsy · 3 months

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Darwin’s Theory

Summary: In an attempt to climb ranks, Crowley contracts an ex-hunter to aid in his ambition but manages to go through more than he bargained for

Word count: 9.7k

Rating: Teens and up

Warnings: descriptions of violence

Triggers: none

Characters: Crowley, Y/n, mentions of Lilith, Oc Issac

Relationships: Reader/Crowley, Crowley/OC (3rd person POV)

Tags: lemon, Mild injury, Reader-Insert

A/n: I’m thankful @crowleybigbang for letting me participate. I’ve never actively participated on tumblr before so it was a nice change. The stress I had writing this was unbelievable but as a fanatic I’d take any excuse to write about my favorites

Bars were always familiar, comforting even, but this bar was fancier than the ones Y/n grew up with. A very different crowd and a lot cleaner. She could practically see her face on every surface. The view might have been enjoyable had she not been working.

”If I looked that good I don’t think I’d stop looking either.”

Her eyes shifted to the man’s reflection before finally looking up and locking eyes. She ran her finger around the rim of her glass.

”Maybe,” He clears his throat. “It’s the design. Countertop’s made from granite. Makes it durable, won't scratch easy, hard to stain and-" His eyes search hers nervously. "I'm sorry, I just can't think of an excuse good enough to talk to someone like you."

"Well, I'll give you an opening then," She smiles, leaning forward with her hands intertwined as she jokingly whispers. “I’ve never really been here before so I only picked what I know. You could help recommend a drink.”

Immediately he nodded to the bartender, hoisting his glass. "Get her what I'm having will you?” He smiles at her. “You'll love it.”

"I usually just drink Craig,"

They turned to the new voice. The accent noticeable, rolling off the tongue smoothly, nice black suit. His entirety demanded attention. "The old stuff is really the only drink worth taking. 30 years aged at least if you want perfection."

"Your opinion, I'm sure. My recommendation is more than pleasant for a first drink."

"Yes, well, you also thought going after a woman with that wedding ring imprint still present was a good idea." He smiles at his drink amused before looking at Y/n. “I'd be hesitant to approach him for that if I was you love. Clearly just took it off for the night hoping someone like yourself would come along."

Y/n gaps at the stranger's uncalled outing. The married man, too embarrassed to come up with a defense, decided to stumble away. She didn’t make an effort to call after him, she couldn’t afford to. A whole month's worth of tracking and taking behavioral notes, all flushed down the drain just like that. The only thing working as planned was the free drink the bartender barely managed to place in front of her. Improvising wasn’t a foreign concept but nonetheless, she was willing. "Thanks for that." She started softly, glancing at him.

“No worries." He dismissed. "Doubt he would have made good company anyway."

“I guess it’s just bad luck on my part.” Resting her chin on her palm, she looked around before settling her eyes back to her drink.

“Perhaps.” He looks at her smiling. “Nonetheless, if I’m not pushing luck of my own, I was wondering if I can buy you another round?”

It surprised her, a rather bold move scaring a man away only to move in himself. At least she was subtle about it. Then again, him showing interest first helps. She smiles, knitting her brows slightly. She admits the other man, although shady, had a good taste. She liked the evenness of the bittersweet taste on her tongue. “Thank you but I just got this drink.”

“I mean the next one is on me. If you’re willing to stick around after that mishap. Besides, I’d be more at ease if you did, it’s not really safe to drink alone. Unless of course,” His brows went up as she naturally crossed her legs, taking the bait. His eyes trailed from her heels to her eyes slowly. “You’re one of those women who can hold her own?”

“Is that such a bad thing?” She laughs lightly.

"It's dangerous," His grin widens as he hears her laugh. "A girl, better said, a girl as pretty as you, not afraid of getting herself in trouble? It's a recipe for disaster."

“What’s the point of living if you have to be afraid all the time? Looking over your shoulder like that?”

”Hardly a life at all.” He agrees.

“Are you gonna give me a name or are you just a passing stranger giving advice?” Y/n scoffs a smile. She needed a false sense of trust, a name could be just as powerful as anything. How you use it. How you say it.

“Crowley” he answered bluntly. “May I know yours?”

”Y/n” she gives her hand despite the late introduction.

”Y/n” He repeats, taking her hand in his in a more gentlemanly manner, bringing it up to his lips for a light kiss on her knuckles, never breaking his gaze. “Seems like a perfect fit.” He grins.

There was a small tightness in her stomach. She found herself forgetting her job for a second. When was the last time she actually enjoyed a guy rather than screwing him over for his money?

“Thank you, Mr.Crowley.” Then again she was barely grazing the top with this guy.

“You’re very welcome.” Dark eyes, such a deep brown looking back into hers. He admired the flush on her cheeks, though there was a chance it could have been from her drink he was far too confident to believe it.

”Tell me,” Crowley kept her hand in his. “Why is a beautiful young woman like yourself spending time in a place like this?”

“If you got a better place in mind I’m all ears” she shrugs smiling. This was exactly what she needed for a quick win. An invitation.

He laughs to himself, a small shake of the head. “I wouldn’t exactly recommend an evening with me.”

She smirked into her drink, making sure he saw her size him up before taking an aim at his ego. “Don’t tell me, no good?” She taunts playfully.

He chuckled amused. "Too good for you to handle. In fact, I assure you you'll try to come back to me afterward and I don't want to deal with that kind of nagging. I have a job to do after all. The drink was merely to show my sympathies for such a misfortune. You spend the night with me and well,” his knuckles grazed her leg. “I’d ruin you for other men.”

He smirks at the idea. “A place does come to mind but it’s a bit more….private” he whispered lowly in his throat.

”Really?” She hums amused.

He nods. “No crowds, nothing loud or obnoxious, just the two of us with a few drinks, talking like civilized people.”

“Sounds like a good time”

“It does doesn’t it?” He stands from his seat, bringing her with him, linking her arm with his. She tilts her head. He was charming, she'd give him that much. She almost found it entertaining. "It’s a little ways from here, I hope that isn’t an issue?”

”By all means, lead the way.”

They reached the exit. The valet nodded to them as a slightly stretched car pulled up. The driver in front got off to help open the door but Crowley was closer, stopping the man. He opens it, letting her in first. The inside was just as lovely. Dark brown leather seats, and a side bar with several drinks and glasses to match. Once he got in with her she gestured to the bottle.

"Scotch?" She voiced her thoughts, remembering he mentioned it.

"Scotch Craig, old stuff. One of the only things I’d let near my lips," Crowley says, pouring her a drink. He examined his own crystal before letting his hand rest with it on his knee, smirking. “Amongst other things.”

She gives an airy laugh. Her lipstick stained the glass at contact. Crowley watches her in silence before clearing his throat. "Y’know, I can't help but wonder, are you just looking for good company or just a few good drinks to get you through the night?"

"I'm entitled to enjoy myself after a week of work, aren't I? Besides I'm a firm believer in letting faith take its course. If the right company did come along with it why not have both?"

He hums in response. "Well, that got you near a married man tonight."

"But you interfered," Y/n reminds him. ‘And the bastard didn’t have the balls to stand his ground.’ A simple comment to suggest he should mind his business was all that she was asking for to continue.

"And now you're here." He chuckled. "Tell me, are you in the right direction then?"

‘Far from it.’ She couldn't help but mentally sneer. Instead, she smiles at him. Watching his hand slide up to her knee. Placing her own drink on her holder, she pushed him into the seat gently before he could go further. Moves onto his lap as she takes the opening she was presented with. Crowley was only teasing, he didn't really expect her to respond so forward. Though he wasn't going to stop her. His hand moved to support the small of her back.

"Crowley," She trails her fingers down the lining of his jacket. "You're a businessmen aren’t you?"

"I am," He hums, taking a drink of his Scotch. "But what does that have to do with this?"

"Just curious," She says softly. "What kind of business?"

His eyes roam her figure. She was trying to find the benefit of being with him. "I...import and export goods so to speak." He manages enough to not overshare.

"Meaning?" She tries to dig.

"Meaning, I get a lot of stuff from point A," His hand moved from her back, caressing her rear to her thigh before pushing his hand up again to shift the edge of her dress higher, nearing the edge of her stockings. "And send them out to point B." He smirks, tilting his head at her. "What's the matter, darling? Don't I not look the part?"

“I was just trying to make conversation,” His eyes watched her curiously when she undid his tie, using it to pull him closer for a kiss at the corner of his lips. “Is that such a crime?”

He glanced at her lips, meeting her halfway as she took him for a proper kiss. Her fingers slowly overlap his when she takes his glass and sets it aside to one of the cup holders. She presses into him, not breaking the kiss as she uses the clink of the ice to cover the sound of the sleeping pills going in. She goes down to his neck, blocking his view of his drink. Crowley tilts his head back willingly, eyes closed as he enjoys the feeling. His hands held her thighs, a light squeeze. His fingers eventually find a garter. His brow knits briefly as he smirks.

Finding a garter in this day and age was rare, mostly just for show rather than its actual function. Any man with a working brain would know it was a way to show off her intentions. He couldn’t help but wonder if she knew that. He laughs to himself. Slipping his thumb under the band, pulling it before letting it go. A small yelp at the sudden snap escaped her lips. Almost sounded like a moan. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride, being able to get her worked up.

She encourages his hands to roam, to drink, to grope, anything that’ll keep him from noticing the lack of lip contact. As they stumbled into the hotel, laughing at every little thing. She groans when he pressed her against the wall of the elevator. Then again as they fumble into the room, he passed out almost the second his body hit the bed.

Dropping the act immediately, Y/n took a minute to regain her breath before looking around. A low whistle as she noticed the peculiarity of the fancy room. Though nowadays she's not exactly roughing it as she did when she was a hunter, the luxury of it all still left her in awe. It was neat, with no signs of luggage. Not even in the closets and provided safe- which she made sure to double-check.

She made her way back to Crowley. Watching his slight stirs as she went through his pockets. The only thing particularly inviting was the wallet. She relocated the cash into her purse before writing the numbers from his plastics on one of the notepads the hotel provides. She ripped it then folded it into her own little notebook. She went to the bathroom to tidy up her appearance.

It did strike her as odd. Having a room but no actual belongings. Not even a small bag yet he was in a nice suit. Nothing like the ones her father used to get on a whim for a hunt. Was it just a one-day meeting thing? Even if he just needed to spend the night how far would his actual place be if he was sure he didn't need anything come morning? Why book a hotel room at all?

She pulled out a cigarette from her notebook where the pen usually should be. She curses after realizing she has no matches, going back into the bedroom for her purse only to stop at the sight of the man sitting contently against the bed frame. "What's the matter, darling?" He looked up from the purse he held in hand. "Need a light?"

’Shit.’ Two pills were supposed to be enough for him to last till morning when she was long gone.

“I'm a fan of your work. Kind of primitive for a hunter’s daughter wouldn’t you say?”

Her jaw tightened at his casual remark. The situation was a lot more complicated than she thought.

“Then again most hunters are primitive. I admit seeing your work up close and personal,” He shook his head with a light laugh. “What a show. Don’t think Daddy would be so pleased if he heard what you were up to these days.”

"What are you." She questioned immediately.

"You know in the pit of that hunter’s gut of yours exactly what I am."

"Export and import business huh?" She scoffs. Y/n looks him over. A more sour attitude than when they first met. She didn't have much room to fight. Her holy water and salt were stashed in her purse which troubling enough was out of reach. There wasn't a real proper way to deal with demons exactly. At least from the basics, she's learned growing up.

The whole point of leaving that life was to not feel so tense all the time. And now she was in the presence of a creature who could get rid of her so easily. Yet she couldn't help but continue talking. "Do you have any idea how much work I actually put into these kinds of things? Weeks. I only went for you because you scared off my guy!"

"Ouch." Crowley chuckles.

"What do you want?"

"That, my dear, is the million-dollar question isn't it?" He leaned his back against the bed frame. Crossing his legs as he looks at her thoughtfully. "I have a proposal."

"A proposal?" What the hell did she have or did he think she had for him to come looking for her?

Did her dad do something?

"As a crossroads demon-"

"A crossroads demon?" She scoffs a laugh. It wasn't that she’d considered them any less dangerous than a regular demon but they did like to talk a lot more. Almost exactly like a salesman you want out of your house. Then again she's never heard of one appearing anywhere aside from an actual crossroad. "I admit I've done a few stupid things before but I've never actually been that stupid."

”There’s a first for everything darling.” He smirks. “Course I’m not here for that kind of arrangement, what I want is more of a partnership of sorts. See in my line of business, its traditions are,” he shrugged as he looked around the room. “For a lack of better words, outdated. The world is always changing so why don’t we change with it? Brings efficiency, sales go up, everyone’s happy.”

”Except for the poor bastards in the deal.” Y/n scoffs.

He immediately waged his finger to correct her. ”Willingly, with consent. We just lay out the deal and our terms it’s not our fault if they don’t read the fine print. I assure you nine times out of ten it’s of their own free will and most likely done some level of idiocy to deserve such a faith.”

”Loopholes” she rolled her eyes. “You know the tricky little things you can get away with because of your charming talks with the desperate.”

”Point is, There are faster better ways to go about it. That’s where you come in love.” He smirks.

“Not much I can do with a soul y’know, at least with what I do I get enough money to keep me stable.”

”Is that what you want? Stability? Or actual comfort? It’s a very simple concept darling. Course I could charm a poor bastard to do my bidding but I think it would be much more beneficial not to mention entertaining to have someone already skilled in manipulating people to do the work for me.” Crowley smiles at the thought. “I find myself enamored with your little scheme, conning men. You’re quick on your feet and from what I’ve seen ways before our official meeting, know exactly how to pull on a man’s heartstrings. Willam Evans comes to mind, poor bastard ready to pull a ring,”

”Why do you think I left?” She huffs amused. “The long way is fun, I get showered with gifts and attention but I’d need to do more than just talk. Something I’m not really willing to do unless I find the guy up to my standards. Staying like that too long makes an ‘attachment’ on his end not to mention makes my face more recognizable. The last thing I need on my ass asides from monsters and hunters- is a man trying to give me a ring.”

"Nonetheless there's no doubt in your potential. You can go from conning a few well-off men to more important Powerful pursuits, men of great influence. With a bit more time and practice of course to perfect such an art. And if you’re good enough- powerful women.”

”So I should be flattered knowing you think I can play both sides?” She couldn’t help but laugh, amused at his suggestions. “Demons are sinful, lustful creatures”

”We all have addictions that make the afterlife more entertaining.” He agrees easily. “ Either way, I can’t deny that I’m confident a bat of those eyes is enough to put them in your hand, latching on to any suggestions just to hear your voice. A siren dragging a sailor to a bottomless sea is you will.”

“I want you to continue doing what you do best, under my name of course, and in turn, I give you your own pay and desires to live as you please. Money, power,” His eyes easily drifted down her body once again. “Pleasure”

“Yeah!” She laughs “The pleasure to not deal with things like you. I got out for a reason y’know.”

”The hunter’s dream after a long tortuous battle right? And anyone in such business with a right mind would know you’re never truly out. I would think someone like you wouldn’t be blind to that assessment yes?”

Y/n decided she hated the man on the bed, Crowley. What a name. No doubt it was bound to be engraved into her after tonight. She was right from the start, he did demand attention. She wondered how long he’d been watching her, stalking her. Did he switch between bodies? At some point, she should’ve noticed the smell of sulfur right? Or was she really out of touch with her training?

She needed a drink.

“Protection.”

”Protection?” He knits his brows. “From what exactly?”

“From what? From everything that goes bump in the night. Even things like you”

It was a good request but it was definitely too tall of an offer. For some creatures sure, but there were plenty above him. Lilith, his boss, came to mind immediately. She didn’t even know he was attempting a deal like this, no one did. All he could bring himself to do was laugh a little.

Y/n smiled as she watched him. “You can’t do it can you?“

“You have no idea what you’re asking of me.”

”You said anything I want”

”Anything within reason darling.” He corrects her. “I can’t give you something that is so far from my control.”

”Shame.” She sighs before smiling. “Then I guess there’s not much to talk huh?” She gets up from her seat going to the door with her little notebook in hand. “Keep the purse if you want, don’t really need it.” It would be a pain to have everything replaced but really her notebook is all she needed.

“You can’t just leave-“ He looked at her in disbelief, finding himself moving quickly off the bed to follow her. He hated the feeling of not having the upper hand. It was another reason he’d need to climb ranks but now to think he had to play nice for a hunter? “You’re willing to throw away such a generous offer? Money and anything your heart desires, in exchange for a bit of your time and effort? You can’t be bothered to be content with such things?”

Crowley closed the door the second she tried to open it. It was clear that he was frustrated though at the moment actually hurting her wasn’t on his mind. If anything he hated the fact that she could feel that too.

”What was it you said earlier? Something about not settling for stability? I don’t know, if I’m being honest I tuned out a good chunk of your little speech. Y’know, focused on that accent of yours- highly distractive by the way”

”You should understand that I’m simply looking for the best possible interests for both of us in this deal.”

“I agree, but accepting a deal like that is like someone offering me a job that I gotta dedicate my whole life to with the idea of a promised bonus or promotion. No guarantee just a promise that can be broken or changed at any moment. You’d think a hunter like me would know better than to take a deal like that.” She opens the door, keeping her eyes on him as she goes out.

”Ex-Hunter, I hear” Crowley huffs the second he’s alone.

It was difficult, being as talented and charming as Crowley and still having to deal with something as ridiculous as a rejection. Clearly, the deal needed some time to play out in her head. Another thing that was frustrating was sharing his views. Demons were practically born with a defiant streak so chances of getting one, a decent one, to listen were low.

”Right, so this Y/n,” Isaac starts slowly as they walk down the park’s sidewalk. “L/n, I know a hunter with that don’t I? Name’s familiar.”

”Daddy dearest, yes” Crowley hums.

”Ah,” he nods. He didn’t know he had a daughter or kids in general. It was an interesting turn of events for a solo hunter. It was common for hunters to raise their kids in this life, on the off chance that they do live long enough to produce. “You’re right, I do think this is ridiculous. C’mon Crowley? A hunter?”

”Ex-hunter” he corrects. "Now a con artist. Interesting switch in careers if you ask me."

”Still, you bring her to the party and everyone will be falling over themselves to rip out a piece” Issac shakes his head with a smile. “Hell, Lilith herself might take action and keep her as a plaything, maybe even eat her, literally”

”I just need a while to prove this is efficient. I swear it’s a crime to be creative. You'd think Hell of all places would encourage unnatural changes."

”Right. Except it's also full of demons who take pleasure in torture, especially a lone hunter-"

"Ex-hunter," Crowley corrects again.

"Even on the off chance that it actually works and no one bothers her, who's to say she won't turn on you? Please tell me you at least-“

"Under contract, of course, I'm not an idiot." Crowley looks around. The park was a lovely place for a walk, completely quiet and abandoned the second the sun got low. The lamplights guiding their way.

"No, of course, I’m sure you offered something tempting. Money? A dead relative?” Issac scoff lightly. Remembering the deals he’s made with humans before. All so completely obsessed and desperate. It was sad to watch but the power he felt over them was addictive.

”Not entirely, I mean I did but she…..wants an immunity of sorts, from monsters, a peaceful life. All she has to do is sway people to me.”

"Immunity huh,” Issac smiled amused at the idea. "A hunter with no morals?"

"No" Crowley sighs, looking at the sky for a moment, the frustration visible in his tone. “They’re very much there. She just wants the proper motivation for the betrayal to at least be worth the effort. I doubt any hunter would blame her for such a deal if immunity was in the cards. Hate her, sure but not blame.”

”So not only do you not have proof of this idea of yours working the girl isn’t even on your side yet?” Issac laughs. “Ain’t that a tall order, nice little dame you gotta butter up first-“

”She’s perfect” he insisted. “You should’ve seen her work up close, her manipulation tactics. Just enough to draw you in and make it seem like it’s your idea. I can’t remember the last time a woman got me worked up so quickly”

”Pretty is she?” Issac loved the idea, the older L/n had been a pain in his side for a good while. Bothering his work, trying to save his clients. The idea of a daughter just…

”The amount of men that have fallen for her schemes, you’d think she was one of us. Tempting little thing,”

“Or just pretty enough, lust is rather powerful y’know, for someone to just flaunt it.” He shrugs. Lust could so easily pair with other sins, sins that build easily in the human mind. Since the first downfall, it’s what built everything they know today. Sure none of them knew they’d be basically stuck in a job for eternity, fighting for scraps and acknowledgment, the whole ordeal was…..well, hell.

Crowley was a tad more ambitious than most, though it was unclear if it was because of the useless life he lived before or the enjoyment that came with the power of his status. Higher status, more power. Promotions and whatnot like any other business. Issac’s been around a fair amount of years, he was younger than him, managed to make a higher rank. This business was no different than that when he was alive. To think someone wanted to climb so high so easily- it bothered him that he didn’t think of the idea himself but why her?

”Why are you telling me all this anyway? You have a plan, seems like you’re dead set that it would work. Clearly something you can take on your own no?”

“I just wanted your opinion on the matter, believe it or not, I value your input, Issac. Besides,” Crowley sighs, looking around the park before looking back at him. “I'm not stupid enough to believe I can do this alone. Even demons have their limits.” Honestly, he got excited and needed someone to dump his thoughts. Enough to hear his idea out loud.

”Well you said your fish ain’t on a hook yet right? Got an idea for a next approach?”

“As fun as the push and pull has been I thought it was about time I pushed boundaries. Mold her into the perfect ideal temptation for any idiot within a mile away from her. She wants freedom I’ll promise freedom.”

”And Lilith? Your position? Any human would get reckless the second they know they can’t get hurt.”

”I’ll figure something out, what I do know is that I need to get her attention first.”

“She’s a con artist, right? Not to mention a woman, if I were you I’d get her something shiny.”

“Something shiny?” Crowley chuckles at the simplicity of the idea. "Something simple to match the idea then? A Dimond necklace perhaps? Silver setting, elegant but not too much to catch attention. If that fails I'd have to look into other options."

"Mock all you want Crowley but temptation is temptation. You're trying to get her to look over her nature as a hunter, ignore her morals for people's lives." He took out his cigarette, lighting it. A few puffs before he continued. "Immunity from monsters is a blessing. More so if you manage to convince Lilith but still, the necklace is just a showing. Not only can you give her freedom but keep the comfort you offered the first time around.”

"It’s all about presentation," Crowley nods in understanding. "The necklace is a mere taste of the power and influence I hold. Let her know there are luxurious awaiting, She'll have it made if she works for me."

“At least then she wouldn’t have to take up side jobs that would take her from your intended goal right?” Issac shook his head as he took another drag. Processing the idea to get to Crowley's understanding of things. “A human workin' for a demon."

Of Course, considering the last encounter she chose a location far from the last. There were an abundance of ways to play the game. If anything she’d rather her target approach her instead. Then again it depended on the kind of person they were and who she had to be to get them to notice her the way she wanted to be noticed.

So she sat there, this time playing the part of the stood-up date. Probably in his 20s but absolutely loaded with Dad’s credit card with how loosely she’s seen him spend it all day. Leading her to sit in a high-end restaurant this time instead of a bar. She’d send a few small glances at him before taking her time to pretend she was looking for someone. It was going well enough, at least well enough for him to turn his full body toward her direction as he subtly talked to his companions.

Unfortunately, her luck didn’t last enough, the man turned around suddenly with a weird look on his face. At the same time, she felt a shift in her booth’s seat.

”Is this seat taken?”

She took a breath, not wanting to cause a scene she smiled, looking him over briefly. "What are you doing here?"

"I saw a lovely lady sitting alone, pouting and my heart couldn't take it so I decided to come by and keep her company." He intertwined his fingers. "And well, here I am."

"I'm working" She huffs lightly.

"Working?" Crowley chuckles. "Of course, and how is that going for you?"

”I hate you”

”I’m aware.” He took in the elegance of the restaurant. Looking the way she did he knew even if that man didn't come over right away someone else would. Nonetheless, if it’s not him it’s not on the agenda. ��It's quite the place you've chosen to practice your craft but I guess business isn't going quite as planned is it darling?"

She rolls her eyes.

"I apologize," the smirk playing on his lips was anything but. “If you'd like to call in early. I could always provide some..." He looks her over. "Distractions"

”You’re seriously not gonna let that go anytime soon, are you?”

”Deal or no deal Who am I to deny myself entertainment like that when the opportunity presents itself?” He laughs.

”It won’t happen again I can guarantee you that much.”

”It was only a little game, upset I outplayed you are you darling? You make it sound like I actually brought you harm. Did I threaten you? Touch you or try to harm you in any way?”

”Touch me? Yes. Harm me?” She scoffs in disbelief. Really her pride was more than hurt. She should have been able to spot him, especially being that close. There should have been signs. But it would be weird to start testing her target every single time out of paranoia. “No, but you were more than handsy in that car. I could’ve sworn we would’ve-“

”Can I remind you tried- no, you did drug me?”

“They were sleeping pills for insomnia, Crowley. Even human you would have lived.” She leans on the table. “And it wasn’t like I was gonna do anything but rob you blind.”

“And that makes it better?”

”Don't play damsel demon. Didn’t I say I’m not working for you? You’re wasting your time.”

"So you say." Amusement clear in his tone. "You're a survivor, this is surviving. Isn't that all rather....tedious?"

”You here to ramble about that deal of yours again?”

”Yes, though I do have a new offer. A rather handsome one at that. I've thought about what you said and I couldn't help but agree. You deserve freedom, to not...look over your shoulder for everything that goes bump in the night." He takes out a velvet box from the inside of his suit jacket. Placing it on the table, sliding it to her.

She glances at it before bringing it closer to her hesitantly.

“Go ahead, open it.” His smile grew as she took it out, admiring it immediately.

“Okay, I’m listening,” He gets up when he sees her move her hair to the side. Taking the diamond necklace out of her hands and setting it around her neck as it rests into her shape naturally. She could feel her nerves spiking at the proximity, her foot taping naturally but quietly. It was hard to look at him the same after the first time. Knowing what he was, how he could kill her without much effort. Demons didn’t really care if they made a mess and abandoning a vessel makes the mess someone else’s problem. She didn’t want to be a case herself.

Crowley let his hands linger on her shoulders, his thumb stroking her skin as he admired the piece. “Perfect fit.” He gently moves some of her hair further, trying to keep it from falling back enough for him to place a light kiss on her neck before continuing with a few more. She tilts her head instinctively, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. Enjoying the intimacy mixing with the anxiety of the situation.

”It was made for you, don’t you think?” He whispers against her skin. She moves away, swallowing slightly.

“Show what you want, at the end of the day you’re still a demon.”

“And you’re still a hunter.” He sat back down. Taping a glass he claimed near him as a waiter passes them. They both paused as the waiter served him the champagne she selected.

“Ex-hunter.” She corrected.

”Ex-hunter,” He echoes. “Perhaps you beautified the packaging but that doesn’t really change what you are. You wouldn’t see me any different had I changed vessels either.”

Crowley took a sip of his glass, slightly savoring it. “It’s in your nature to be cautious as it is mine to be deceptive however, I wasn’t lying when I said I bring you no harm.”

“Course you don’t, not when you want me to be the one to lead sheep into the slaughterhouse” Knowing he needed her was the only insurance she had to rely on. Despite her stubbornness, she knew it was a matter of time before his patience ran thin. The entire idea was…she couldn’t accept a deal like this right? Under the principles she was raised with? Not after the people she’s saved from things like him.

“I can understand the hesitation, I do.” Crowley sighs deeply. "I've run the numbers, thought of candidates and it all leads back to you darling so I'll be back again, and again if need be. The only thing you could do as of now is talk to me.”

”I'm not killing or hurting anyone for you.” She says almost immediately.

“I’m not asking you to,” Crowley shrugs.

”I won’t let anyone take me to bed if I don’t want to.” She rolls her eyes. “I mean I do stuff for this job sure. But I don’t actually go that far with any of it.”

”Shame, but not entirely unreasonable.” He looks her over.

“You said I’d get immunity from other monsters. Demons are no exceptions” At this point it sounded like she was placing her own terms and conditions.

“Can’t say I didn’t see that one coming back, yet, I’m not in the best position to grant you full immunity. At least not until I get my own boss on board with the idea,” He picks up the champagne. It was decent but not exactly the kind he’d go for given the chance.

”You said-“

”I know what I said, and I’m sure I can. There’s just a few things I have to do first before I can fully grant such a thing. Even we have people we need to answer to.”

”What like the devil?”

”She-devil more like. Hell works like an office, there are bosses, workers, and some that are just considered dispensable.” he huffs amused. “Lilith, the first demon in existence, was meant to continue his work of corruption so she created a system. It’s sales darling, if anything think of it as us doing a favor. One last big hurrah, where the most certainly already dammed can ask for anything, indulge themselves in their most craved dreams before their light’s snuffed out.”

“My soul-“

”Would be completely untouchable, we’ll add it to your little list of demands. Only as long as you’re employed under me.” He says seriously. “So?”

She looks around. People still very lively, enjoying their evenings. “I…I’ll sleep on it.”

Crowley doesn’t remember the last time a deal caused him so much frustration, let alone a human. Usually, the common go-to rule when it came to forced deals with hunters was to use someone or something they cared about as leverage, but this particular deal was important. He needed her to willingly surrender to him. It was all he could think about nowadays. Though he didn’t have the patience for it he endures, giving her a smile in response. “Of course, You do that.”

She couldn’t sleep, she didn’t even bother changing. The most effort she made getting home was taking off her heels and placing Crowley’s gift back in its box, letting it stare at her mockingly on the coffee table of her living room. It was stupid for her to even sit here and actually think about it.

Immunity?

luxuries?

The idea was greedy, selfish, and everything else a hunter should strive to stray from. Conversing with a demon of all things. Any hunter would be after her if they ever found out. What if her dad found out?

“It’s none of his business anyway,” she tells herself. Raising her beer to her lips. This wasn’t something she’d bother him with. To be honest she didn't want to see him at all.

Y/n jumps slightly, hearing something upstairs. She places the beer down carefully before bending slowly, getting a shotgun she had under the couch. It wasn’t every day that she had personal visitors, especially not with how she kept moving about. She went up the stairs carefully, trying her best to step lightly but move fast enough to not let the wood creak too much under her weight. She can hear the flicker of a lighter clicking in her room. She pokes her head in with the gun close to her.

A man, probably in his 30s, dark blue suit, his hair slicked back neatly as he took a drag of his cigarette. He smiles immediately as he looks her over. “A L/n, as I live and breathe- well y’know, as close as I can get to it right?”

”Who are you?” She pumps the gun, a round ready.

”Easy honey, I’m a friend of Crowley’s, so to speak. Name’s Issac.” He leans against the wall. He glances at the window seal, seeing the salt lined up, only a part of it disturbed, clearly done from the inside. “I couldn’t help but notice it. I mean hunters are cautious by nature. Every nook and cranny was covered in salt except this window.” He tilts his head at her, smirking. “And in the bedroom no less. C’mon doll I knew Crowley’s been working an angle with you but I wouldn’t think he’d get you so riled up.”

Her grip on the gun tightened as she glanced at the salt. “He hasn’t.”

"Really?" He squints. "I mean from what I heard hell, from what I saw. Almost felt like I was supposed to turn away or something. It was like some ridiculous attempt at an affair."

"What is it with you demons and spying?"

"I don't know. Probably gotta do with our nature. Common excuse you hear with these folk y'know? Hunters and demons go a long way. Prey and predator. That thin line constantly being played with like some kind of schoolgirl’s jump rope. Though we still got the upper hand ya like to fight back.” He briefly frowns as he brings the cigarette back to his lips. “Always fighting back.”

“What are you going on about?”

”I just sayin’ I know my onions.”

”What?” She didn’t like him. Not like this in the temp home she managed to get her hands on in this town. Dealing with demons was unsettling in general. No matter who they were or what meat suit they decided to wear.

”I’ma be honest here with you L/n, I don’t like him. I don’t like the smirk on his stupid face or his voice, always complaining, questioning one thing after another, and you-“ Issac points. “You’ve been his latest obsession and to be honest, the second I heard your name-“

Y/n shifts as he takes his time to look her over. Her finger was ready on the trigger. She knew salt wouldn’t kill a demon but a part of her hoped it would hurt him enough. Maybe even inspire a few rounds to go off.

“Your pops,”

”What about him.” She demands quickly.

“He was quite the hunter but he really never knew how to keep that nose of his in his own business. One time he managed to trap me, left me to rot for….fuck months I think?” A laugh erupted from his throat as he shakes his head. “Can you imagine that? It’s like a rat outsmarting a cat, leaving ‘em in a small confined cage. It’s just not natural.”

”Do you have a point here?” Her jaw flexed slightly.

“As I said, I hate him. And seeing that you are who you are, he can’t have you so I got a counteroffer. You won’t know it and I doubt Crowley would have explained it but we got our own ranks within ranks. I happen to be a higher rank than him so any ‘protection’ he offered you would be more guaranteed.”

”How do I know if you’re lying or not?”

”You don’t, but that’s half the fun isn’t it?” Issac taps his cigarette, the ash falling into the pot of a plant she had. “That bastard has been a pain since he first arrived. He's like a dog doing extra spins to see if his master gives him another treat. Tryna make himself a favorite, look Lilith I got the moon for you."

”The moon?”

“Not as impressive as it sounds, I promise you. ‘Sides I'll get my boss's favor in a snap. You just gotta play nice for me." He smirks. "And help me get rid of that demon of course. Though to find something that can actually get the job done, not the easiest thing to come by."

"You wanna get rid of Crowley?" She looks him over. “For good?”

"Yeah," Issac scoffs. "Can't have him rat me out. Even if he lets me have it he'll find a way to benefit from it. Fucking parasite."

“Have what?”

”The colt Y/n, I know you have it. Your dad took it, then placed it ‘Somewhere safe’. Took me a while but what better place than a hunter always on the move? It doesn’t stay in one area, you’re not actively in the hunter business so there’s less of a chance of a supernatural encounter. It all clicks. Now be a doll and hand it over.”

She could play dumb. She should play dumb but she had to take into consideration he might already know where. Especially since he admitted to stalking, there was no telling how long. “Over my dead body.”

“y’know,” Issac sighs. “I was absolutely baffled when he told me his idea. Getting a dame to lure in anyone willing to trade for a measly ten years of whatever the hell they ask for. I thought to myself ‘Why doesn’t this idiot just posses a nice lookin’ chick and do the same?’ I know a handful of demons who play with different meat suits to get targets.” He nods his head to her, the action sending her back into the wall, making her drop the shotgun. His lips twitched up slightly, wetting his bottom lip as he watched her try to regain the breath that was knocked out of her.

“But it wasn’t just about that. It was the fact that you were human. Selling the idea to them. But you’re a hunter, you can think on your feet. You’d most likely get recognized by other hunters which will set them at ease from suspicion faster and the cherry on top?” Issac walks over to her, watching her use the nightstand for support as she leans her side on the bed. “You’re a fucking L/n. That’s exciting, for me at least. The second I heard you were his daughter. I could hardly focus sweetheart.”

It was rather hypocritical of him to use force when he advised Crowley to do otherwise for favor. Hunters may be human but with what they do and the self-inflicted suffering they put themselves through, he couldn’t help but place them as an entirely different species of their own. He pushed her to the bed by her neck, pushing his body weight on her slightly. Her hands instinctively gripped his wrist, wanting him to let go. His own breath hitched at the sight. He loved it when they squirmed. Though the defiance on her face was clear.

“You’re gonna do it or are you gonna bitch some more?” She managed to get out despite the pain of being tossed around.

“Huh, guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it? Always havin' something to say despite being completely backed into a corner. Do you know how many deals he cost me?" His grip tightens, leaning in closer. His eyes closed momentarily as the smells flooded in. She took the moment to stretch her foot out to the cup she had on the nightstand, knocking it over to spill onto his side.

Issac yells in pain, buckling down as the steam erupts from his suit. Y/n forces herself to crawl further up the bed once his grip loosens, rolling to the other side to create enough distance for her to think of something.

His groans slowly turn into laughter. "Oh you little-" Issac couldn't smell her father on her. Only a lingering emotional touch, enough to know she’s thought of him but it wasn’t enough to prove he was around. "Here's the thing. I am jealous. I know he was close but how close was Crowley to you to get his smell on you?”

Her eyes narrowed at him. She really was cornered, the shotgun was on the other side, and so was the door. All she had was a window and not enough salt to close it. Even if she could she'd be trapped in here with him unless she jumps. The second floor isn't so bad but the flowers planted below had a brick lining. Jumping on a whim before he could get to her might make for a bad landing.

He forced himself to stand, though the holy water still stained his suit. “He was real insistent on it being you. He could’ve gotten any greedy chick willing to jump at the deal but loyalty is something you can’t always buy. The second there’s a higher bidder she’d up and leave. And you won’t say yes, you won’t give me the gun so what the fuck?”

This was just a talk, she realized. This was his idea of talking. Throwing her around like a rag doll because he was jealous, strangling her because he remembered her father. If this was just a talk what was she supposed to expect further down the line with him?

“Plus there’s also your old man right?” Issac smirks as her look changes. “There you are. Y’know I can find him again easily, make sure he’s red and blue for you before I take my time to really send him off. Or we can make a deal.”

On one hand, she was glad to hear he was alive, despite his ways. “You say that like I care. Haven’t been on the best of terms since…ever? It was a great try though. A for effort.”

What was better? Being in the hands of a demon or death?

"So, in conclusion, Fuck you." She decides.

He huffs, raising his brows in surprise. He nods accepting her answer as he smiles to himself.

"Okay," he shrugs. A wave of his hand sent her through the window, the glass breaking from the impact. He sighs as he walks over. Eyes trailing over the new injuries she gained, her body arched over the plants.

"What a world."

Everyone hates an errand run. There wasn't much to do but wait for a small delivery to be made. Lilith, being stuck in Hell, made her reliant on the demons that were out of the gates. Being a woman of deals herself she preferred to use crossroads demons. Though the irony of sending them together to run it didn't fly over their heads. Sharing subtle glances as Crowley made small talk.

Feeling bored as the time passes Issac moves, looking at the abandoned cars around them, tools scattered, and Graffiti at almost every turn. No doubt proof of the warehouse's new use as someone's hang-out spot.

Eventually, a set of other demons came with a chest, setting it down and leaving it to them to complete their part.

"Finally," Crowley sighs, looking over the chest curiously. "What do you think it is, needing it so badly even if she's not up here to get it herself?"

"It's none of our business is what it is. We're not opening it." Issac said bluntly.

"Never said we would, I just figured if we're gonna wait for something that long we'd be granted a small note of information or something."

"You ever heard of the colt Crowley?" He asked out of the blue. "Nasty little peashooter that can shut down almost any creature a hunter could possibly deal with."

"I thought that was a nice fairytale hunters liked to go on about when things get desperate." Crowley grabs onto one handle of the chest as Issac picks up the other. Taking the chest to a giant symbol written off in blood on the floor. An entire ritual set up. Both being well versed and educated in more complex magical situations they needed to be the ones to do it.

Crowley never really like doing work like this but better for Lilith than another demon. Crowley had his fair share of bottom-feeding in his past life and he wasn't willing to take it in this one.

"What's the point of creating a gun that only had a handful of rounds? Clearly, he had the intention to use it for one troubling thing. Even if the gun was around there'd hardly be enough bullets for a hunter to make proper use of it in a world crawling with creatures."

"Maybe it was more so meant for us. Y’know to be haunted by the idea that hunters would have something to go against things like us or hell, bigger if there even is such a thing." Issac grunts as they put it down. The candles around them light up automatically. They immediately stopped, moving to their positions. Holding their hands up mid-chest, muttering the needed words. The chest burned up in flames leaving nothing but a scorch mark behind. “How’s your hunter situation?”

”Silent. Though I’m sure there’ll be an answer soon.”

”Yeah?” Issac smiles a bit too contently for Crowley’s liking. “Diamond necklace wasn’t it? I’m telling ya, girls love jewelry. Course, hunters' such as Y/n have an adequate taste y’know?” He pulls out the Colt. It didn’t take long for him to find it in her house. Placing it under floorboards was a commendable choice but the bedroom was typical. He watched as Crowley shifted in place, more serious though a frown clear on his features. Issac couldn’t decide whether to shoot him in his smart mouth or his heart. The irony of shooting a demon’s ‘heart’ would only provide him a laugh rather than actual satisfaction.

“Seems like I struck a nerve.” Crowley hums at the sight. “Colt, I’m guessing?”

”No shit.” Issac pulled the trigger.

It was nothing like he thought it would be. There was a loud bang but Crowley only stumbled slightly from the impact. There was no show of anything else, no proof the gun being anything but a gun. For a moment Issac thought he felt it but it was his own body jolting at an unfamiliar sensation. He only had a brief moment left to look down and see the bright lights beaming through his veins.

Crowley’s usual smile returned easily when Issac collapsed. The view of Y/n standing there, knife in hand, finally in the clothes expected to be seen on a hunter. A grey undershirt, her flannel as red as her favorite lipstick he’s always seen her wear. Jeans worn out, most likely for repeated wear rather than the use of an aesthetic. Combat boots to endure proper footing if needed in a fight.

In all honesty, the sight had been more of a turn-on than her usual dress-ups.

“This must be what damsels feel like when their hero prevails-“

”Did you know?” She didn’t waste time on asking.

”Knooow?”

”About him!” She gestured towards the corpse. “The stalking, knowledge about the deal-!”

”I told you, I did my research on you. Issac’s been on my radar for longer than I care to remember. I knew he was going to make a move sooner or later. Though I wasn’t lying I do want that deal settled and your skill set. This was just an added convince.”

“He threw me out the fucking window of my house!”

”My condolences.” Crowley paused for a moment. “The colt was an added surprise, that wasn’t the real thing I take?”

”It was.”

”But you did know it had regular bullets yes?”

She shrugs.

”And you let him shoot it?!” She took pleasure in his offense. Watching him examine where the bullet had hit him.

”It was an added convenience.” She smiles.

“My suit,” He huffs.

”My condolences.” She glances at the body again. “Do you have to report all that?”

”To who?”

”Lilith.”

”Ah,” Crowley simply straightened out his suit. “A little betrayal story would go well. I could say he wanted to take her personal delivery case for himself. Add in my attempts with you- only that worth mentioning of course. But I still need that contract sealed beforehand.”

“Why? What’s the point of even mentioning me in all this?”

”You want immunity, don’t you? This is our ticket in. I’m shown as a loyal demon, you’re shown as an asset, and we have ourselves a proper start to a successful system. So….is there a deal?”

”What about the colt?”

”I’ll convince her to let me have it stored away for safe keeping though you’d have to hand over the actual bullets it came with. And that knife-“

”You take it and you can forget it.” She steps back instinctively.

”Fine,” He sighs. “Hard bargain but I’m willing if it lets you sleep at night. But I do prefer you leave it on the floor or elsewhere before approaching.”

“Why? Do I have to shake your hand or something?”

“Not exactly.” Crowley smiles. “Listen carefully,” he moves to her. “This deal is binding. From this moment onward, you will be under my employment. You will do whatever I ask of you. There will be no refusal when I demand something of you. Except for the little list of conditions you decided upon beforehand. Good enough?”

She nodded hesitantly. Even now it felt wrong.

His hand tightened across the back of her hip as he leaned in close to her. His lips brush against hers at first, before quickly locking their lips together. It started out with a quick peck but soon turned into a slow, steady rhythm. For a brief moment, she gripped his suit, pulling him close before pulling away.

”Congratulations.” Crowley licks his lips, taking in the taste of her. “You made it past survival.”

#spn fanfic #supernatural #oc Issac #crowley spn #crowley x reader #crowley big bang #CBB24 #Crowley Big Bang 2024 #Debating part 2

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