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beskar-cowboy · 4 years

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The Best Things Dwell Out of Sight

Part 4 of The Best Things Dwell Out of Sight Series

Summary: You catch an accidental glimpse of the Mandalorian without his helmet, his instincts kick in. (4.4k words) link to read on ao3 here

Warnings: NSFW, Mando is kind of mean, the helmet is off but its still canon?, PIV sex, rough sex, he low-key kinda threatens the reader idk, spanking, soft ending to make up for whatever the fuck i just wrote <3

A/N: this series will be uploaded in a non-linear order! i realize that this way of doing things might not be everyone’s favourite so please let me know if you would like to be notified when all the parts are uploaded (linearly in my masterlist) <3

Perhaps swaddling the child to your chest on a desert planet was not the smartest idea. The heat was blistering, even though you wore less layers than usual. Just a tank top, some utility shorts and a blaster holstered to your thigh. And the baby of course, who had not stopped babbling since you left the ship, the only thing distracting you from this damned heat.

You could only imagine how Mando was feeling underneath all that beskar as he walked alongside you in silence, only stealing glances every now and then, as he usually did.

Even after travelling with them for half a cycle now, Mando still withheld so much from you.

Even after the two of you slept together for the first time, after some close call on some jungle planet, he still retreated into his usual silence.

But there were more gentle touches now, more lingering hands, more helmet tilts, but he still hadn’t let you in. You were okay with that, you knew that this was what he was used to, so you didn’t think too much about it.

You let him take what he needs without asking too many prying questions. If you were being honest, you liked the way he used you, you liked how he took it out on you, you liked how rough he got, how possessive, how starved he could be.

It had only amounted to a couple of times over the last month but… but you loved it. You looked forward to it, you thought about it, dreamt of… dreamt of him, of Mando, inside you, above you, under you-

Mando squeezed his large hand around your bicep, breaking you from your thoughts before nodding to you, then he departed. Off to meet with… whoever.

You stayed in the market and bought stuff for the ship.

Some new screws and bolts for parts that were missing or had to be fixed, food rations, dried meat, fruits that you knew Mando was fond of, some weird, shiny little trinkets the child seemed attracted to, and a new bar of soap. You had just finished the last one a few days prior.

After buying the necessities, you wandered around the little market with the child, bouncing him up and down against your chest and talking to him softly. He was very responsive today, not seeming too bothered by the heat thankfully.

But the sun was high in the sky, most likely at its peak, and it was unrelenting. The desert environment of the planet gave way to little shaded spots so you looked for water instead, finding a little mist station where children laughed and played. You ran through it a few times with the child, he screeched with joy.

On your last run through the mist, you caught sight of Mando approaching the two of you again.

That saunter… the way he walked was so intimidating, so sensual. You couldn’t help but let a shy smile stretch across your face at the people who cowered away in fear of the bounty hunter.

You made sure you had all your things in your sling, checking to see that the child hadn’t dropped his new toy and then you were off, heading back to the ship.

The walk felt longer now due to the long exposure you both had in the sun. Mando seemed to be trudging along just the same as you, profusely sweating and in desperate need for some water. And a shower.

Mando opened the hatch and you both stumbled inside, dropping your bags and untying the child from your chest where he had left a giant sweat stain from how tightly he had been pressed to you. Suddenly aware of how sweaty, sticky and disgusting you must seem, the only thing on your mind was a shower.

“I got you some Meiloorun, they seemed ripe.” You smiled at him as you gently placed the child on the floor of the Crest. He waddled towards his father, trying to show him his new toy.

“Thank you, that’s very kind.” He said in your direction, that deep modulated voice making you shiver. He seemed hesitant to look away, but picked up the child regardless, letting him show off his new shiny thing. Mando took it into his hands, playing with him, you smiled fondly.

“I’m going to go take a shower if that’s okay? To cool down a bit.” You’re not sure why you felt the need to ask his permission after all this time but you still felt the need sometimes. Maybe he would want help putting the stuff away that you had bought, maybe he wanted you to help with the child or something? You just couldn’t help the way your mind only fixated on the sweat and grime sticking to your flesh.

“Of course.” Mando nodded. You nodded back, turning on your heels to head into the ‘fresher just around the corner in the low cabin of the Crest.

You leave the door open, you think you don’t mind Mando seeing you if he decides to look or happens to catch a glimpse. Even though he’s never taken any of his armor off (besides his gloves) for you before, he’s seen every single inch of you.

You quickly peeled off your damp clothing, turning the water on and making sure it wasn’t too cold but cool enough to relax your heat exhausted body. You stepped in quickly, eager to cool yourself down.

You visibly relaxed as soon as the water hit your burning skin, your shoulders sagging, a sighing escaping your lips. You dug your fingers into your own flesh, trying to knead the tender muscles which strained under the weight of the child and the supplies. It wasn’t much but you still ached, the heat had definitely contributed to that.

Supplies… your new bar of soap! You had been excited to use it but completely forgot about it the second you returned to the ship, mind wiped blank by the desire to rid yourself of your dirty clothes.

Suddenly thankful you left the door to the refresher open, you stick your head out from behind the curtain and call for Mando, wondering if he could retrieve the sparkly blue soap bar for you.

Instead of being met with an empty doorway, you’re met with something else. And it’s as if the world moved around you in slow motion, your emotions moving over you like molasses.

First, confusion.

Hair. A head full of light brown, golden hair. It curled near the ends, into little wisps. It couldn’t be-

No. That couldn’t be Mando. It was as if your brain refused to acknowledge the shiny beskar that sat underneath that head of hair, refusing to realize it was the tin covered man you were looking at.

Second, curiosity.

Your eyes scanned over his head, taking in the way the bathroom light shined over his hair, making it reflect all different shades of brown and caramel.

It was now that you realized that his head was turning, that’s why the light was bouncing off it so dynamically.

His head continued to turn. An ear.

Third, shock.

It was only when you saw the sliver of skin, the shell of his ear, the inner workings of the intricate cartilage, and the profile of his supple cheekbone that you let out a startled, and perhaps unnecessary, shriek.

Your hands flew up to cover your eyes, to shield them from the forbidden view. You turned back into the shower, facing the wall, away from Mando.

He saw more of you than you had of him. He saw the way your chest heaved, the way the water flew off your body as you twirled to face the tiled wall of the shower, away from him. He watched the water hit your back-

You had seen him. Or at least, that’s what he thought.

He hated the way his instincts kicked in. He hated the way he was trained to kill whoever saw him, whoever looked, whoever dared unmask him.

Almost innately, his hand reached for the light switch, plunging the refresher into darkness as he stalked towards you, pressing his hand to your head and pinning you against the cool tile of the shower forcefully and efficiently.

Mando’s body followed suit, bringing both of you underneath the steady shower stream, pinning himself against your backside. The cold bite of his beskar in contrast to the cool water making you whimper, the force of his hand pressing your cheek into the wall made you see stars behind closed eyelids.

“What did you see?” He asked, voice gruff, strained, unmodulated.

Fuck.

Of all the months you had spent aboard the Razor Crest, living with him, fucking him, you had never heard his voice without the helmet, without some sort of barrier. You regret the way it made you moan, how easily he could make you melt.

“N-nothing, I didn’t-”

“What did you see?” He pressed onto your harder, with his hand and his body weight, pining you completely to the wall, making you at his mercy. You cry out at his cold touch, at his harshness. Mando had been frustrated, even angry, with you before but now… now he was about to truly end you.

But all you could think about was how beautiful his real voice sounded. It always sounded beautiful to you, from the moment you met him, it had made you weak, but this… this was unlike anything you could have imagined.

“Hair,” you cry, unsure if you were truly crying or if it was just water from the endless stream running above both of you now. “I s-saw your hair, your ear… I-I’m sorry-” You hiccup, trying to regain your breath and not inhale too much water as your chest heaved.

Without the helmet Mando was quickly realizing that he could genuinely hear you for the first time, your trembling voice ringing through his ears without being slightly distorted by the helmet’s filters. He could….

He could smell you too. The sweet scent of your skin, of your wet hair tangling in his fingers as he continued to hold you in between the tiles and his unforgiving beskar.

You… the sight of you pinned against him, your wet skin, water dripping down your flesh in rivulets, your whimpers, your cries, your tears, the way your eyes closed, the way you kept them closed even now, drowning in darkness, your cheek flush against the tile.

Completely at his mercy.

You weren’t even fighting him.

“Fuck.” He groaned, leaning his forehead against your temple. You whimpered at his sudden movement, so on edge.

You knew he was trained to kill. You knew what happened to people who even attempted to look at him. You had seen it, you had been there when it happened once, ignorant vendors trying to taunt him, trying to tease the Mandalorian. How stupid they were, now dead somewhere in a ditch. Would he do that to you? It would be so easy for him...

Mando wondered if you could see him in the darkness as well as he could see you. He knew you couldn’t, the lack of windows deprived the room of any light sources. Luckily, his eyes were trained and used to harsh environments, low visibility. Luckily, he could see you trembling against him.

He removed his hand from your head, sliding both of his hands now to hold your hips, digging his blunt nails into the flesh, leaving crescent moon-shaped indents behind. You yelped at the sting but didn’t pull away. You liked it.

“I’m sorry-”

“Stop talking.” He growled and you bit your lip, unaware that you had opened your eyes due to the deep, dark abyss you had been plunged into.

You could truly not see a thing. All your senses became focused on the way Mando touched you, the way he’s wedged you between the wall and himself, the death grip he had on your hips, the way his breaths came out quickly and evenly onto your cheek. He was breathing almost as hard as you were.

He nudged his nose onto your cheek and you nudge your cheek back onto him, trying to remind him that it was just you, that you’re not a threat, it’s just you, it’s just you, it’s just you.

This is The Way. This is The Way… This is The Way… This… is-

Fuck. You were distracting him. Your little whimpers, the way you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. So willing, you were always so willing for him. So fucking easy and it drove him crazy.

His skin… it felt so good against yours. You had only felt the rough, rarely tender caress of his rough palms. Never of his face, his lips, his nose… You felt like you were being driven insane, you couldn't believe how close his unmasked face was to yours.

You could kiss him…

Mando continued to rub his nose against you, suddenly so lost in the feel of your skin against his. No one had ever been so close to him, so invasively close, breathing in and breathing out the same air, sharing. Feeling your eyelashes flutter against his own, your lips, open panting, swollen and pliant and inviting. He could… he could-

“Mando-”

You’re cut off by his hand suddenly slithering down your body and cupping your cunt. You gasp, unable to help the way your hips involuntarily rock into his hand, into his own hips as well, feeling a growing hardness between his legs.

You were hot, so, so hot down between your thighs. Slippery too, and Mando knew it wasn’t just the water. It was thick, sticking to his fingers, practically begging for him. Mando groaned against your open lips, both of you panting into each other’s open mouths.

“You... you fucking like this, don’t you?” He rasped, biting onto the side of your bottom lip. You whimpered, hips bucking into his hand again. What were you supposed to say? How were you to answer that?

Yes Mando, I like how fucking intimidating you are.

Yes Mando, I like how much bigger you are than me, how easy it would be for you to snap me like a twig.

Yes Mando, I like when you’re rough with me, I get off on it, I crave it, I-

“Fucking answer me.” Mando growls, latching his teeth onto your earlobe now. His hand continued to cup your sex, not truly going anywhere near where you needed him. You still couldn’t fucking comprehend that he was without his helmet, his face right next to yours…

“Yes!” You squeaked as his fingers brushed along the inside of your folds, parting you, dragging his fingers along the length of you, slipping through your sweet cyprine. You let out an unholy moan, so ashamed at how easy you were for him.

Mando kisses your ear, trails his tongue down your neck, collecting the water that pebbles down your flesh as if it were syrup.

This… is, The Way. This is- The Way-

His fingers brush up against your clit accidentally and you buck into him again, desperate for any sort of friction, any sort of attention he could give you.

Mando was trying to calm himself down. He had just been on the brink of snapping your neck and now he was overcome with lust, the desire to fuck you, stuff you full of his cock. The two extremes were dizzying, he felt drunk off of some fancy and expensive cider from some far off planet in The Core. But he supposes that’s just what you did to him.

Before he even realizes it, he’s unzipping his pants, letting the top fall undone and pulling his cock out, letting it rest against your backside. You bite your lip, trying to turn your head to look towards him but your eyes are unable to adjust, you feel as though you can see the outline of his face but… but you’re sure it’s an illusion of the dark.

“Please, Mando-” You weren’t one to beg, Mando wasn’t one to make you beg because he was always as desperate, always as pent up, touch-starved, hungry as you were.

When you two fucked it was never slow, never drawn out, never languid, luxurious. No, it was rough, mean, volatile, desperate and just fucking needy. You needed each other, and Mando fucked you like it would always be the last time, every time. Like he would never have you again, like he would never split you open again.

Mando shoves his entire length into you in one hard thrust, knocking the wind out of you from how deep he reaches so easily at this angle. He rests for a moment, savouring the way your pussy flutters and clenches around him from the sudden intrusion, trying to adjust to his substantial length.

His head pressed right up against yours, he can hear all the pretty sounds you're making, even over the loud patter of water against his beskar which begins to weigh him down from how soaking wet it's getting.

But Mando doesn’t care, he can’t, not when you’re whimpering for him in that pretty way you do, not when you clench so tight around him that he feels like he could cum without even having moved. You beg, you beg and beg and beg for him to move but he just closes his eyes and feels you pulse, hot and tight and snug around him with that perfect little cunt of yours.

You hadn’t seen him, he thinks to himself. You hadn’t actually seen him, he’s okay, it’s just you, it’s just you, it’s just you.

You.

Quivering at the end of his cock, moaning, grasping at the tiles, trying to find purchase on something, taking him all the way in like you always do, like a good fucking girl.

He hadn’t even realized that he had started thrusting, in and out with reckless abandon, bottoming out every single time before pounding back into you, making you whimper and cry.

“W-what’s my name?” He asks suddenly, pulling you from floating away towards whatever astral plane you were near close to ascending too, the one his thrusts were pushing you towards as he rearranged you from the inside out.

You had to think, you had to think of his name because your find was blank, he was fucking you dumb.

“Mando.” You whimper, closing your eyes and letting your head rest against the cold tiles, keeping your head turned so that he could keep his face pressed into your cheek, nose nudging yours, lips brushing but not kissing.

“No… what’s my fucking name?” He grits from behind clenched teeth, punctuating his words between harsh, unforgiving thrusts. You hiccup, unable to swallow down air properly as he fucks you into the wall.

His name?

What did he-

Oh.

His name. Mando had never told you his name, his actual name.

Was this a test? You shook your head ‘no’ as his arms wrapped around you, locking you in place as his ungloved hands came to grope at your breasts, using your own body as leverage to fuck into you harder. You let out a wanton moan, throwing your head back, letting it rest on his beskar covered shoulder. You turned your head and let your lips brush against his cheek but he turned his head too, lips brushing against his own and you both gasped and whimpered in unison. He seemed insistent on not kissing you, so you just went along with it, all your wits being literally fucked out of you.

“I-I don’t know.” You finally answered, your voice coming out small, between laboured breaths.

You didn’t know him, he thought. He still had something of his identity held in privacy, you didn’t know him, you didn’t know him.

“You don’t- you don’t know me,” He begins to say and it makes you cry, you cry against his mouth, your body shaking, bouncing against his, water beating down on both of you. “B-but you still let me fuck you like this, don’t you sweet girl?”

You scream. You scream when his hand lets go of your left breast only to come back down onto it, slapping the underside of the supple flesh. You wail and cry and moan the only name he’s ever told you.

Mando, Mando, Mando, Mando, Mando, Mando.

He grabs your jaw in one of his strong hands, angling your face towards his, a sight unseen.

“Answer me when I speak to you, cyar’ika.” He says forcefully, regardless of the nickname.

“Y-yes.” You choke out, trying to nod your head in his tight hold but you barely can. You were right on the brink, you felt as if he were to say one more thing in that deep, rough voice of his you would cum.

“Yes, what?” He grits, fucking your harder, moving his hand down to your neck and pushing you back against the cold tiles, making you yelp and cry for him, at the cool bite of ceramic materials.

“It’s c-cold, Mando.” You whine. He slaps your ass, his hand cracking down on your flesh, no doubt leaving a mark to find again tomorrow. You squeeze your eyes shut, bordering on overstimulation from his cock, his slaps, the water turning colder.

The ship never had a great water supply.

“Answer me.” He fucks you harder, faster, deeper, un-preciously and slaps your ass again, the other cheek this time.

“Y-yes! Yes I..I still l-let you… let you fuck me like this!” You cry and shake against the tile.

Mando’s arms quickly wrap around like they had before, hauling you back into his body. He snakes his hand down and rubs against your clit in fast, precise motions.

Almost instantaneously, your mind goes blank, your eyes roll into the back of your head. One of his arms wraps across your front, against your chest, holding your shoulder in a death grip, his other hand still working on your clit, his thrusts unrelenting as you cum and cum and cum around his thick cock.

“That’s it. That’s it... Good f-fucking girl.” He rasps, holding you tightly, thrusting a few more times before he empties himself inside you with a growl, painting your walls with him, branding you, owning you.

You moan at the sensation, the way his hot cum fills you to the brim before leaking out, back onto his cock and down the backs of your thighs. You both pant, your chest heaving in time with his as he fucks it back into you as deep as it’ll go, stuffing you so, so full of him.

You keep your eyes closed, afraid of opening them, afraid he can see you even in this darkness. Even though you know he can.

Mando stays inside you until he’s softened, relishing in the way your pussy trembles around his girth, sucking him in as deep as you can for as long as possible.

When he eventually does pull out with a low growl, you hear him twist the knobs of the shower, the water suddenly becoming warmer, heating your now freezing skin. All these temperature changes were making you feel light-headed, the rough fuck you just got from Mando not helping your case either.

“Wha-”

“Stay here, warm up.” Mando cuts you off, you hear him step out of the shower.

A series of loud bangs resonate throughout the refresher, making you jump. Only one thing could be that loud. Is he… removing his beskar?

“Mando-”

“You’re always so cold when we’re travelling… can’t believe you were taking a cold shower.” He mumbles to himself, you can imagine him shaking his head. You’re stunned honestly, at how much he’s talking, especially without the helmet, that fact alone still lost on you. His voice was so beautiful, you had thought it to yourself about a hundred times now since you first realized he took the helmet off.

You stand under the warm stream, your quaking shivers slowly dissipating. You feel his presence enter the shower again, this time you can clearly feel his body heat, more flesh. He’s naked.

Mando is standing naked with you in the shower.

You involuntarily step away from him but he catches you, his hand landing on your waist, his hand softly grasping the flesh there. Such a stark contrast to the way he just fucked you into oblivion.

He’s naked.

This man had never removed anything besides his gloves. Even when he fucked you, the armor stayed on. You’re not sure if it was an issue of trust or due to his boundaries or his Creed. But considering he almost just killed you for accidentally seeing his ear and cheek, and was now standing naked with you in the dark… well, maybe it was a bit of both. You were having trouble wrapping your head around all of this, nothing was making sense to you.

The hand on your waist pulls you closer to him, your chests and bellies bump together and you gasp. Mando is firm, you knew this but… but to actually feel him against you, well, you could cry about it honestly.

You felt uncertain about what to do with your hands, unsure if you were allowed to touch him but you tentatively lifted them to his chest anyways, letting them rest against his solid pecs. His skin was soft despite the random series of raised flesh that seemed to brand him, his scars. You don’t think you ever wanted to see someone’s scars, someone’s skin as badly as you do now. But you would right out ask for it, you couldn’t.

You felt Mando lift something to your skin, it was smooth as it glided along your arm, your shoulders, across your back. A fruity, earthy scent filled your nose.

Your bar of soap.

He must have grabbed it before he took off his beskar. You lean into him unknowingly, the hand at your waist moving to hold you against him more easily as he washed you. You let your face rest against his chest, the little spot where his throat meets his collarbones. He smelled like sweat, grime, gun powder, he smelled like Mando.

You pressed your lips to the skin, the skin you knew was tanned and rugged, worn down, tired, in need of more kisses than he would let you give.

At the gentle press of your lips, that’s when Mando speaks again. It’s so hushed amongst the falling water, you almost miss it, but the few words don’t fall deaf to your ears, you hear every letter, every syllable.

“My name...” You look up to where his face would be, trying to imagine what expression he wears as he speaks to you in the dark. Your forehead not too far from his lips, you can almost feel the ghost of them on your flesh.

“My name is Din.”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #reader insert #din djarin #the mandalorian smut #din djarin smut #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin imagine #my writing #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you

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spencerspecifics · 3 years

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Okay yes hi hello this is me gracing y’all with my writing Bc I’ve had this idea forever!! This is going to be multiple chapters, here is chapter two. Enjoy :)

Technical Analyst (ch.1)

Short description: Spencer works as a technical analyst alongside Garcia and Kevin, though he hasn’t ever really worked directly with the BAU team, he works more in filing and researching. But when Garcia goes on vacation leave, and Kevin is busy with his own work, Spencer steps up to help- and that’s when he meets Derek Morgan.

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Spencer hated technology. He hated computers, tablets, cell phones, he hated it all. He hated everything and anything that isn’t on printed onto paper. So how the fuck did he end up as a technical analyst- whose entire job was based around proficient use of technology? In very short, budget cuts.

He originally worked in domestic terrorism, though he never fit in well there. He was a good worker, fast and able to do a lot. But his coworkers never let him feel included. He would hear them make plans without him, ignore him in conversations, only reaching out to him for his great memory to help solve a case. It was dehumanizing. He was just a brain for them, nothing more.

Then, the budget cuts came. And he got removed from the team, as he had the least amount of hours in the field- which wasn’t his fault. The rest of his team always forced him into the research position, so while they were off chasing the bad guys, he was stuck researching with a computer he doesn’t trust.

So yeah, he wasn’t an asset to them. But the bureau knew a mind like his in general was an asset, a fountain they’d like to keep a tap on. So they made work for him. It was mostly menial. He would assist with intense cases when necessary, but even then it was just research. No one knew what he would be like in the field, because they never gave him the chance.

Spencer tried not to think about how unfair this was, how stupid and purely tedious it was. He would rather be working as a T.A. at this point- which wouldn’t even be that bad. At least he gets heard and seen then.

Spencer’s normal day consists of going from his apartment to the bureau building, to directly into his cramped little office that was about the size of a jumbo walk in closet. A nice size to store clothes, but not so nice when you have to have a person, a desk, a chair, three computer monitors, two filing cabinents, a trash can, a fax machine, and a printer all crammed in there.

Yeah, his workplace was entirely too small. Thankfully it didn’t impact his ability to work, though, most the time Spencer finished his work quickly; and would end up reading. Spencer didn’t venture out from his office that much at all, (he always brought his own coffee so he didn’t have to worry about bugging the field agents.) the exception to leaving his office was to go across the hall to Penelope Garcia, his only sort of friend that he had at work. She was always so bubbly, it was a breath of relief for him to go see her- she reminded him of all the positive things, he definitely couldn’t do the job without her.

Not to mention, she had to train him from starting point zero. Spencer hated technology, after all. So he never made an effort to learn coding, hacking, how to re-route and track things. He knew nothing like that, hell, he struggles with his cellphone turning on sometimes.

Thankfully, she was able to get some sense into him, and he was pretty good at what he could do. Though he was still working out python coding, he was enjoying the learning process of using technology.

That being said- he still despises technology, and he hopes that once he leaves the job, he can throw away his very unnecessary but work mandated laptop.

Spencer made his way into the bureau building, messenger bag slung over his shoulder awkwardly as a thermos of coffee was held tightly in his right hand, while the left one reached for the door handle to enter. He got in no problem, security didn’t stop him anymore, thankfully. Though in the beginning, they did check him constantly, verifying that he belonged there. After all, he looked young, and he definitely didn’t belong in the bureau building. But then again, Garcia didn’t look like she belonged there either.

Security just made presumptions about people, he shrugged that thought off as he made his way to the elevator. Thankfully no one else was in there, he pressed the button for floor six, and the elevator doors shut.

The elevator whirred to life, taking him up to the sixth floor slowly. Thankfully today was a slow day, there wasn’t really any important case he had to work on. (Not like he ever really got given cases to work on, anyways.) So Spencer was hoping he would be able to finish his work quickly, as he had some books he brought with him that he wanted to read and re-read before the day was finished.

The elevator dinged, a signal it had reached its necessary location, before the doors finally slid back. He stepped out, taking his usual left down the hallway immediately. Forward through the glass doors was the bullpen with the agents who worked in the BAU. And god, what he wouldn’t give to be a field agent, working as a profiler. That’s why he wanted to join the bureau, and yet he was so close- his office only down the hall. But he was simultaneously so far, not being trusted by all the bureaucratic bosses, who didn’t know if he would be a good agent to warrant being put out into the field.

He hated it, but he tried not to think about it as he reached his office, Garcia’s door was shut, she was on vacation, or so he had heard. Spencer pulled on his office door, entering with ease as he moved into the cramped workspace.

Spencer sat his messenger bag down onto his desk, sitting himself down in his office chair and taking a minute to breathe in and out before continuing. Spencer hated this job. It was mind numbingly boring, he was so close to quitting. He knew the bureau would fight tooth and nail to keep him, however, but if that was the case, why not give him a better job- he didn’t want a nicer office, he wanted to help people.

He sighed, today was just one of those days where he was extra mad about not being treated right, he tried to ignore this thought process as he got ready to work; setting his coffee down by his computer mouse to his right, setting his messenger bag onto the floor next to him, pulling off the scarf that was wrapped loosely around his neck and hanging it over the back of his chair. Now he was ready for the day.

Penelope didn’t mean to forget to tell the team that she was going to be gone- she assumed they knew. At least Hotch did, all the rest of them knew was that she was going to take a week off to relax, they just didn’t know when (she had too many vacation days saved up, so she had to use them or lose them. She chose the former.) It was just a total brain fart moment on her part, so while she decided to hit up her favorite stores, spas, and websites; the team had no idea, they assumed she was holed up in her office, hacking away at whatever she normally does.

This would only show itself when Derek needed her, calling her office number and it going to voicemail “Hi, this is Penelope Garcia with the FBI and I’m too awesome to come to the phone right now, if it’s an urgent matter please call Aaron Hotchner-“ yeah, Derek hung up his phone by then, deciding to call her personal cell.

“Hi, hot chocolate!” She answered cheerfully, the sounds of people talking and laughing could be heard in the background, which Derek took note of. “Babygirl- your work phone sent me to voicemail, where are you?” Garcia was quiet for a second, before practically blowing Morgan’s eardrums out; “Oh- damnit! I knew I was forgetting something!” “Care to fill me in?” He asked her curiously, “Yes-“ Garcia sighed before continuing on, “Sorry. I’m taking those vacation days Hotch told me I had to use or else I’d lose.”

“So you’re not at the office.” He stated, “That I am not, I’m sorry I forgot to tell you! But my pal Spencer Reid should be covering for me.” “Spencer Reid?” Derek asked, unfamiliar with that person, “Why not kevin?” “Ugh, I don’t know- he’s doing that thing where he’s actually busy with other work for once. But Spencer is good, I taught him everything he knows- and I’m pretty sure he’s got three PhDs, so yeah, you replaced one genius with another- so don’t worry!” “Okay, well...” Derek took a second, “You sure I can ask Spencer about everything I’d ask you?” He meant work related, within being able to hack and get everything that Garcia would be able to get. Because Morgan knew that her talents were very special, and having someone else replicate them seemed near impossible, so he was a bit hesitant to trust someone new.

“Oh yeah- he’ll find everything easy peasy lemon squeezy. Don’t worry yourself, sugar.” “Okay, thank you mama. Have a good week of rest.” “I will! I have an appointment for a spa, and oh my god Derek- they do a seaweed wrap thing, isn’t that crazy?” “So you’re gonna get rolled up like sushi?” “No! Ew! Don’t compare me to raw fish!”

The phone call continued for a bit after that, as Derek wasn’t in an urgent matter. It was just a filing day at the office, before he hung up he asked where Spencer was, though; “Oh, he’s in the office next to mine, across the hall!” Garcia told him happily. Derek had thought that was a storage closet, but he didn’t tell her- instead thanking her and hanging up.

Now to pay this mystery computer whiz a visit.

Spencer was in the middle of re-routing a bunch of information that Garcia needed to send to her boss, Aaron Hotchner. Spencer didn’t share the same boss, since he was technically working in a more basic division of the bureau, he instead answered to Strauss- which was a royal pain in the ass, but he always turned his work in on time, came in when needed, he had never had to face her wrath yet, thankfully.

Spencer typed away, trying to get all the data to get to Hotchner as quickly as possible so he didn’t have to wait, though it wasn’t crucial the work did get completed right now. Spencer just liked to get things done.

A knock sounded Spencer out of his methodical typing, it wasn’t Garcia, obviously. And he knew Kevin was in a meeting right now with some IT people over his keyboard acting funky (Kevin could fix it by himself, but office administration forced him into talking to IT.)

“Yes?” Spencer asked curiously, turning around in his office chair, because he had no clue who it was that could be interrupting his work. The door pushed open, revealing a tall, classically handsome, muscular man carrying some files in his hands. Fuck, that would be Spencer’s luck. An attractive guy swooping in and making his IQ of one hundred and eighty seven go down to sixty in two second flat

“Hi- you Spencer?” The man asked, stepping forward into the cramped office. Spencer stood up instinctively, “Yes, I am. How can I help you?” The man handed the files over awkwardly, “I’m sorry, I usually ask Penelope Garcia for this but she’s on vacation and she referred me to you- I just need these put through VICAP, I’m not too familiar with the system as a whole, ‘cause Garcia usually handles it.”

Spencer nodded, taking the files and looking through them briefly, there were nine of them. “I’m sorry, I know that’s a lot of work to do... I’m sure I can figure it out myself-“ Derek started, doing his best to apologize. Little did he know Spencer could get this done within an hour or so.

“Oh no- not a problem at all, this should only take me about an hour, two at most, but that’s a generous estimate.” Derek raised his eyebrows, “An hour or two? Garcia usually finishes up this many files within three or four. How are you able to get this done faster than her?”

“I have an eidetic memory, which helps me recall anything that I read. I can read these files once and put all the information into VICAP knowing it’s accuracy is one hundred percent without having to double check, that cuts down my speed by half per case file.”

Derek looked confused and shocked. Yeah, Spencer could understand why. “Sorry, um. That’s a weird explanation, but it shouldn’t take me as long. I’m assuming you’re out in the bullpen?” Spencer asked him, putting the files down atop his keyboard.

“Yeah, I’m Derek Morgan with the BAU.” Derek finally introduced himself, reaching his hand out. Shit, this was Derek Morgan? Garcia has mentioned him a few times to Spencer, saying he’d love him “oh he’s so handsome, but so sweet and loving, like the hottest man on earth- I’d marry him in a heartbeat, but we don’t roll like that, Y’know?” That’s how she described him once, and of course Spencer remembered that word for word. Spencer felt like it was just his luck, that his only work colleague was best friends with a man so attractive that his mind isn’t working fully.

Not to mention he was in the BAU, Spencer guessed he was, since Garcia was their technical analyst. But still, it would be just his luck to know this insanely attractive man was part of the team he wanted to belong to so bad. Spencer wasn’t sure how to respond as he kept his composure. After all, yeah, Derek was attractive. But they probably wouldn’t speak again after this exchange. It wasn’t worth Spencer thinking about him, or how Garcia described him.

“I’m sorry, I don’t shake. But it’s nice to meet you, I’ll find you once I’m done. If you need anymore help, feel free to let me know.” Spencer told him, looking back at the files on his desk as a distraction away from this hot guy that was just standing so calmly in his office, as if Spencer ever had any visitors into the cramped space besides Garcia and Kevin.

By the time spencer looked back up, Derek’s arm was back down by his side. “Okay, thank you.”

Derek was surprised by their exchange, to say the least. How did he not know about this genius before? How was he not more well known, a memory thing, three PhD’s- that would be a useful asset? How come he was hidden away in a closet sized office? He had to know more. Even if it was nosy and stupid.

Normally, he’d call Garcia and ask her if it was about an employee. But in this case, he couldn’t. And he couldn’t go to Spencer, that would be weird.

So, he did the next best thing. He asked Hotch.

He knocked slowly on Hotchner’s door, hoping he wasn’t going to tell him to mind his business and not ask about employee facts when they definitely were irrelevant.

Derek was smart though, he figured out a foolproof way to play this. So when Hotch said, “Yes?” He came in, starting his plan into motion.

“Hotch, where’s Garcia?” He asked him, as if Derek hadn’t immediately checked up on his babygirl when he couldn’t find her. “Oh,” Hotch started, setting a file down that he had been looking over, “She took some vacation time.”

“So, who am I supposed to go to for computer help?” Derek asked, “Well,” Hotchner started, matter of factly, while he reached for a thin, unopened file on his desk. “We have a new guy helping us. Kevin’s busy with helping the child abduction unit reset their computers, as well as he’s in an IT meeting right now, so we have..” Hotch stopped, looking down to read the name off the file; “Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m sure he’ll be just as good.”

“Hotch. No ones as good as Garcia.” Derek pointed out, Hotch shrugged. “Maybe not. But this guy has a glowing personal history- and Garcia told me she taught him everything he knows.”

“What’s his personal history?” Derek asked curiously, stepping a bit closer but still trying to play nonchalance. “You know I’m not able to disclose that. You can go ask him for yourself.” Derek sighed. Of course Hotch wasn’t gonna tell him shit. He should’ve expected this. But sue him, call him hopeful. He was hoping he could’ve gotten some information on this mysterious doctor.

Derek made his defeated way back to his desk in the bullpen. And Emily, whose desk was directly across from his, immediately noticed his slight annoyance at Hotch. So she asked in a hushed voice as soon as he sat down;

“Did you get yelled at by Hotch?” Because in her mind, that was the most logical explanation that made the most sense. Derek just shook his head as a response, “No,” he clarified, “I was asking about our Garcia fill-in, and Hotch wouldn’t tell me anything.”

“Garcia fill-in? She’s gone?” Emily asked confusedly looking back to the hallway that led to Penelope’s office, as if she’d magically appear. “Yeah, but just for the week.” Derek explained, “She’s using those vacation days she had saved up. And Kevin isn’t our standby, ‘cause he’s busy. Instead it’s some new guy.”

“Who?” Prentiss asked, this time she was curious. And as if on cue, Dr. Spencer Reid came through the glass doors, and into the bullpen, carrying Morgan’s stack of files.

“Him.” Morgan pointed back simply as a response as he waved Spencer over.

To say Spencer felt out of his element by being in the BAU bullpen was an understatement, he felt like a fish out of water. Like he was suffocating and everything around him was too much.

He purposely avoided the bullpen, first reason being because he didn’t have any work with the BAU. But the second reason was he knew if he stepped in, he’d be more upset that he couldn’t be on the team. And the last thing he wanted to do was make his job worse for himself.

But, this experience was an outlier. And though Spencer can remember almost anything and everything, he planned on doing his best to purposely forget all of this. Every last detail.

He wasn’t going to let himself remember how there were field agents with real life guns holstered at their sides, how they were all sitting casually, looking over cases and drinking coffee, how they had the title of SSA (he only had SA, which he still was bitter about.), and then how at a moments notice they could fly away in a jet. How astonishing their work is, how jealous he is.

But Spencer entered through the glass doors nonetheless, looking around quickly before seeing Derek wave him over. Derek was sat at his desk, talking to a woman whose head was turned away from Spencer, all he could see was that she was his desk mate, and that she had black hair.

Spencer made his way over at a brisk pace, he just needed to get in and out. If he stayed for too long, he’d let himself remember to much.

“Hey, I- I got these into VICAP no problem,“ Spencer started as he handed Derek the case files, “But I noticed some errors on the date stamping on when you found the unsub so I corrected it myself, I hope you don’t mind.”

Derek shook his head casually, “Not a problem at all, I have a habit of messing that up. Thanks doc.” Fuck, ‘doc’? Spencer hadn’t been called ‘doctor’ in months, let alone ‘doc’. This was turning into a tailspin moment for him as he smiled awkwardly, feeling a blush rising to his face, he wasn’t sure what else to do. But he wanted to get out of there.

Thankfully, the woman with black hair introduced herself, as once he had rounded the corner to see Derek, he also saw her face. She was pretty, and had bangs. “Hi, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Emily Prentiss.” She reached her hand over to shake Reid’s expectantly, “Oh I-“ Reid started, hands down at his sides, he wasn’t going to move them.

“He doesn’t shake, Prentiss.” Derek explained casually, “Oh,” Emily said, dropping her hand down, “Sorry! It’s still good to meet you, though. So I hear you’re covering for Garcia?” She asked Spencer, who nodded as he pushed a piece of hair back behind his ear.

“Yeah she’s taking vacation time, and Kevin is currently busy with helping the child abduction unit. So I’ll be you technical analyst for the next week or so.”

“I’m sorry, but how long have you been with the bureau? You look really young. I don’t mean to be rude I’m just-“ “You’re really asking him the rudest possible question, though, huh?” Derek joked to her, and she just smacked him on the arm lightly before turning her attention back to Spencer.

“No you’re fine to ask I- um, I’ve been with the bureau a year and a half, but originally I was on the domestic terrorism field unit.” He explained shortly, he didn’t wanna go into how he got on the bureau to begin with, or how he left the domestic terrorism unit. All he wanted to do was have this conversation end, or else it would just be that much harder to forget.

“Domestic terrorism? So how do you end up doing technical analyst work?” Derek butted in curiously, up until now it has been Prentiss asking all the questions.

Spencer stayed quiet for a moment, before finally responding, “If you need anything else, my office is next to Garcia’s. It’s been nice meeting you, Emily.” All he gave to Derek was a curt nod before walking out at the brisk pace he had entered with.

“Wow, well you fucked that up.” Prentiss spoke to Derek once she saw Spencer exiting through the glass doors, and turning down the hallway.

He sighed and rolled his eyes at her, “I’m just curious about him, can you blame me?” Emily just chuckled softly in return, shaking her head as she turned her chair around to face him more head on.

“Are you curious about him because he’s cute, or because he’s replacing Garcia for the week?” Derek blinked at her in surprise; “I never said he was cute.” He protested, more confused than anything else.

“You didn’t say it, but your body language did. You think he’s cute. You called him ‘doc’ and he almost blushed, and I have a feeling you’re gonna try and call him ‘doc’ again to see that same result- and you watched him the entire time, even if I was talking.”

“You think random bureau agents are cute all the time, what’s it matter?” Derek rebutted, trying to deflect and ignore, because Prentiss wasn’t making sense. Derek wasn’t attracted to Spencer, he didn’t think he was cute. Spencer’s level of attractiveness had nothing to do with his curiosity.

Derek did have a right to be curious for other reasons, anyways. This guy was replacing Garcia for a bit. It made sense Derek would wanna know more about the guy, even if he was or wasn’t attractive.

“Yeah, I find agents cute. But I don’t go asking Hotch about them.” Prentiss said with a smirk, Derek just shot her a glare. “I asked Hotch because he’s replacing Garcia. And I’ve not heard of the guy before.”

“Whatever you say, man.” Was all Emily replied with as she turned back to her work, Derek just rolled his eyes at her again before turning to his own computer.

Okay, so he knew Spencer was in domestic terrorism. It couldn’t hurt to just search it up, right? It wasn’t anything classified, he’d be able to see it, Derek hoped. He wasn’t meaning to be nosy, but he was just so curious and confused. He just had to know more.

———————————————————————

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unprofessional-bard · 4 years

Text

Out of Touch

Pairing: Jacob Frye x Reader

Warnings: Jacob being Jacob (aka a lot of teasing/flirting), just some grabbing around (nothing to explicit), angsty at first but ends with a slightly heated fluff.

Summary: Jacob has been your bodyguard for the past month under strict orders from poor Evie who had been dealing with your father's unnecessary worrying. Jacob is a rough, reckless man who killed and you were the daughter of a man who had taught you manners and raised you as if you were royalty. Two complete opposites... right?

Author's Note: Okay nsjdjdjdsjns this is basically a Han/Leia AU... I've watched the originals again and wanted to write a fic with their chemistry: a scoundrel and a princess - Jacob and my lovely readers 😚 And of course a big thank you to @marshmallow--3 for helping me when I got stuck while writing 😊💘

This fic is for readers of all genders! If I've written anything that says otherwise please please please let me know!

Enjoy!

"Ugh!" You huffed for the umpteenth time that day because of the boredom eating away at you. All you had been doing for the past month was to sit on your armchair in the library with a hawk watching over you. Or should you say, a rook?

A rather handsome rook at that.

"What is it now, your highness?" Your supposed bodyguard groaned at you.

"Would you stop calling me that?" You snarled at him as you pushed the wood in the fireplace around with the steel poker. The poker was dirtier than you imagined, which annoyed you even more as your hands got covered in ash and dust. "This whole being stuck at home thing is really getting on my nerves..."

Jacob gave you an offended look: "You've been stuck in a big, empty house with the most handsome man in all of London for the longest time, yet you still complain - unbelievable..."

You didn't bother looking at him as you walked to the door. If it were your first week with Jacob, you'd be gasping, throwing a book his way, yelling at him to shut up with his infuriating flirting; but you were used to it by now and chose to ignore him for the sake of your nerves.

You were born in London, but your family moved to Paris when you were younger and now, ten years later, you were back in London -not as settlers but as guests- with your father. Your mother had passed before you could begin your assassin training and it wounded your father deeply, leading him to cancel your training and keep you out of the "assassin" business. It didn't anger you before because you didn't care, grieving and moving on from your mother's passing took a toll on you and it took too long. When you turned 16 however, you started realising what a great opportunity your father had taken away from you and so you've been upset with him ever since. Five years had passed and here you were, stuck with a reckless assassin named Jacob, who's father was friends with your own for a long time until his recent passing.

The reason you were stuck in the house with the said assassin was nothing but for your own safety, at least that's what you've been told by a variety of people. How hard was it to put you in a carriage and let you sail back to France?

Too hard apparently. You didn't even really know why your father was in London in the first place. He kept saying "assassin business" and hid things from you, why did he even bother bringing you along in the first place?

"Remind me, for how long more will I be stuck with you?" You walked to the living room, Jacob right behind you.

"Two more weeks," he shrugged. "Why, bored of me already, your worshipfulness?"

You sighed loudly in irritation, to which he replied: "I bet I can get you to make those sounds with my-"

"Will you shut your gob?!" You turned around, eyes and arms wide open, shouting at him. "The audacity you have, if you were half the person your sister was-"

"Oh don't bother," Jacob spoke suddenly with a tone you haven't heard before. "I'm too 'wild' and 'vulgar' and 'rebellious' for the likes of you people, I know. Spare me the lecture."

Your anger cooled down and you almost felt sorry for him, thinking about how upsetting it must be to always being compared to someone, not better than him, but different. He didn't look you in the eye as he turned around to leave.

"I just wish that you'd cut it out when you're told to cut it out," you said quietly, not wanting to start up a fight with him. "Anyways... I am going out."

That made him halt in his tracks and turn around: "I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me." You said, determined. "I am going out and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

"Oh, trust me, you don't want to know the amount of ways I can stop you from taking another step," he said, still shocked.

"Well, I don't care. You either come with me or stay out of my way because I am going ou-" Just as you were reaching for the door handle, you felt your body being pulled backwards and pressed harshly against the wall.

"Good lord-" you gasped involuntarily. He was pressing against your body from behind, your face trapped between the wall and his face which was only inches apart from yours. "You make it so difficult sometimes."

"I do, I really do..." Jacob nodded as he held you in place but he wasn't hurting you . "You could be a little nicer though. Eh, admit it, sometimes you think I'm bearable."

A moment of silence settled between you as you pushed him off yourself and turned around, still leaning against the wall, rubbing your wrist: "Occasionally- maybe, when you're not acting like a rotter."

"Rotter?" He raised a brow at you. "Rotter..." he repeated as he very slowly closed the space between you two and gently grabbed your wrist. He smirked like the rascal he was as he carefully massaged your wrist - you both knew it wasn't hurt at all. "I like the sound of that."

It took you a short moment to realise what he was doing: "Stop that."

"Stop what?" He asked, confused.

"Stop that," you repeated, trying to pull your wrist away from his big hands; "my hands are dirty."

"My hands happen to be dirty too, your majesty. What are you afraid of?" His voice was low and it couldn't have been deeper.

"Afraid?" You tried to act confused as you felt the distance between you close even more.

"You're trembling..." he pointed out.

"I'm not trembling," you tried to chuckle but instead your voice trailed off.

At this point, he was towering over you: "You like me because I am a rotter... There aren't enough 'rotter's in your life."

"I happen to like polite men-"

"I am a polite person," his nose brushed against yours and it was then, you realised, he almost had you.

Just before he could close the little distance between you entirely, you pushed him off with little force and immediately went out the door.

Jacob was absolutely stunned at your sudden act and followed you out: "Oi!"

You smirked to yourself as you skipped around the streets amongst the throng of people, thinking that Jacob will have a hard time finding you and dragging you back home. Ten minutes were all you needed and before he knew it, you'd be back as if you hadn't stepped outside at all.

Well, you were wrong.

Just after three minutes of walking around the streets you finally took a turn and stopped to rest on an empty alley, but only after 20 seconds of freedom and starting to feel joyful because of finally being by yourself, you were harshly grabbed by your waist and shoulders once more and were pulled into a small cabinet behind you.

You yelped but a big, familiar hand muffled the sound as it closed over your mouth.

After you stopped moving and stood still, Jacob dropped his hand onto your shoulder and the other remained around your waist. Your back was, once more, pressed tightly against him; his breathing on your neck sending involuntary shivers down your spine.

"Let go," you demanded quietly.

"Sshh-" Jacob ignored you. You weren't exactly sure what he was up to, but it was starting to become suffocating in there.

"Let go, please..." you asked, softer this time. Although he wasn't pressing you down entirely and you could easily move out of his hold like you did minutes ago, Jacob noticed how you weren't really fighting to get out of there but decided to reply anyway.

"Don't get excited now," He whispered half arrogantly and half disturbed.

"Well, Mr. Frye, being held by you isn't quite enough to get me excited."

But your reply seemed to excite him: "I'm sorry love, but we haven't really got the time to do anything else at the moment."

Jacob let go of you just in time as some nasty looking Blighters finished passing by and stepped out of the cabin with you.

You straightened your clothing as Jacob growled: "Do you have a death wish? What were you thinking?!"

"Perhaps I do," you replied angrily but you didn't raise your voice at him. "What do you care? Other than getting an earful from Evie and your little gang of assassins?"

"Your father-"

"Of course," you sighed. "But you needn't worry, Jacob. If he cared about me even in the slightest, he would've respected my choices and left me back in Paris instead of getting me into this mess."

"But he does care about you, a lot in fact."

"Really?" You asked, smiling bitterly. "If he had cared from the beginning, I would've been an assassin now and we both wouldn't have been stuck in that cursed house for weeks! Maybe if he didn't wail as he does with everything and lost himself in his assassin business and actually cared for me, then he would've made sure I could take care of myself instead of 'protecting me from the dangers of the world!'"

You didn't realise the tears rolling down your face as you finished yelling at the once more stunned Jacob. After a moment of quiet, you began sobbing and broke down, falling onto your knees.

Jacob calmly approached you and kneeled down beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and putting his hands on them.

"Please take me home," you sobbed quietly as you leaned in to rest your head on his chest. He didn't move while you cried a little more and thought about how hard it must've been for you. He couldn't imagine what he'd do if he wasn't an assassin and he understood your frustrations with your father.

He gently moved and picked you up bridal style. You had neither the energy nor the state of mind to fight him about it and let him carry you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying his head in the crook of his neck.

"Hmph," Jacob hummed thoughtfully as he aimed his rope launcher to the edge of a roof. "Hold on tight love."

"What do you me-" you began but got interrupted when you heard a thwip, then a far away clang from above you; and just as you felt Jacob's arm tightening its grip, with a whoosh, you suddenly gasped.

In a matter of seconds, you were launched in the air and landed on a rooftop in Jacob's strong hold. How did we not fall?! you thought.

"Jacob!"

He switched your position from his arms to his back: "If this doesn't excite you, I don't know what will." he said smugly and just as you hugged his back tighter, he repeated the motion with the rope launcher and down you went.

You were surprised at how strong both Jacob and the rope was as it carried you across the sky, downwards to your house. It took maybe a little over a minute but it felt like more - and it certainly did pump some adrenaline through your veins. You shouted and laughed all the way through which put a different kind of smile on Jacob's lips.

You both almost fell over when you landed, but Jacob grabbed your legs and found his balance. You were right in front of your door, which made you sad as you had the most splendid time in a long while. When he let go of your legs, you only grabbed onto him tighter.

"What's this then?" Jacob smirked as he tried to turn his head around when you didn't let go. He could feel your heart beating on his back and it was still beating like crazy.

"Your grace demands that you carry them into their chambers," you demanded in an exaggerated way and smirked backed. "You asked for this, I told you to stop calling me those names."

"Very well," he sighed in defeat and adjusted your form on his back, then went to open the door. If this was all it took to make you smile, then so be it.

Jacob carried you all the way upstairs to your room but instead of dropping you on your bed right away, he somehow effortlessly switched back to the bridal hold.

Your smirk dropped from your lips as you noticed that you were trapped in his hold. He gazed at you for a while -your disheveled hair, your beautiful eyes, crimson cheeks that matched your perfect lips- and then slowly lowered you onto your bed, but as he did, he carefully climbed on top of you; he gave you enough time and space to tell him to stop or push him off, but you didn't.

Jacob moved closer until your noses touched and quietly asked: "May I have my kiss now?"

Without hesitation, but slowly, you lifted your head up and connected your lips with his in a soft, passionate kiss; he, however, immediately grabbed your face and pressed you back onto the bed.

Incredible was one way to put it, arousing was another, but you truly couldn't find the words to explain how utterly delicious that kiss was. Your hands were quick to find their place, cupping his face, his beard an absolute delight to feel on your fingertips.

Just as everything was getting more heated, however, there was a calling of your name along with Jacob's from downstairs.

"Damn..." you cursed, breathless.

"We'll continue this darling... later." Jacob smirked devilishly, he was as out of breath as you were. He quickly jumped off you while you called your father.

You both quickly fixed your attire and went out of your room to greet your father. A sour expression settled on your face, which Jacob noticed. He quickly but gently pushed you against a wall and gave you another toe curling kiss.

"Thank you, Jacob..." you managed to say when he detached his lips from yours. "For today- for everything, really. Much as you infuriated me, you also made this past month more bearable."

"My my, is this a confession?" Jacob said with a brow up.

"Don't get cocky," you pushed him off and went downstairs.

Maybe it was a confession, maybe it wasn't, nevertheless it would be better if you kept it to yourself, for you'll be on your way back to Paris in two weeks.

... But then again, you could make your last two weeks more interesting. He said it himself, you two weren't done yet - it wouldn't hurt to have a little fun and make this a memorable trip, right?

#jacobfrye #assassin's creed #assassin's creed x reader #jacob frye x reader #au

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dramaticviolincrescendo · 3 years

Text

Thank you for tagging me @gallavictorious ! 🧡 It’s been a bit since I had the time or energy for writing, but it was fun to go back through things for this.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

1,527,620

3. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Somnus Ultima (FFXV)

The Seven Soulmate Commandments (Shameless)

Royal Protocol (FFXV)

Unashamed (Shameless)

Lips Sealed (Shameless)

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Ordinarily, I do. I have a bit of a backlog right now that I need to get to. I’ve always been of the mind that if someone took the time to provide feedback, I can find the time to thank them. Unfortunately, that sometimes means being…months behind now. There will be some surprised people when I get through my inbox who’ve probably already forgotten they read my work.

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

World So Cold, the first story of a Captain America/Harry Potter AU trilogy that nobody asked for but I had a great time tormenting the five people who read it with.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Honor Bound, the one and only “fix-it” fic I have ever written and will ever write. This is what happens when you take a fantastic concept, grind it up over years of production team changes and company overhauls, and throw together the scraps that remain.

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I’m not really a huge fan of crossovers, personally. I prefer to place characters in a different setting, like that Captain America/Harry Potter AU trilogy I mentioned. That said, my only crossover was Cabin Fever, which…may or may not count since dreams are involved.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I wouldn’t call it “hate,” but I’ve had a couple of people comment with criticism that I wouldn’t exactly count as constructive. I tend to ignore it and agree to disagree on our preferences.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

No. Never. Not in this life or the next. Finding ways to avoid writing it in the Shameless fandom was difficult but, fortunately, I succeeded.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

To my knowledge, no.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, though someone did offer to translate into German once. (That Captain America/Harry Potter AU just keeps coming back to haunt me today…) I declined since I would prefer to have the opportunity to check and make sure none of the meaning was lost but don’t speak German.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

On three occasions, yes. There was one I sincerely hope has been lost to the bowels of the internet, Royal Protocol with @irregularrogue , and (How to Break the) Alibi Armistice with @gallavictorious . (She’s got the link in her post!)

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

…To write? Uh. Well. I honestly don’t enjoy writing ships very much… Romance isn’t as interesting to me as other relationships, so I think I’ll cop out and just say if there’s bromance, I’m game.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I…think that I am coming to accept that In Pieces may remain unfinished. I stopped at a point where I’d actually be comfortable making that the official “ending,” but I absolutely hate that…I’ve simply lost steam. That’s what happens when you write fifteen lengthy stories in just a few months, I guess. Ordinarily, having detailed outlines helps me stay focused when I start getting tired, but the content and rapidly deteriorating coherence of Ian’s perspective has really weighed on me to the point where I took a break and never really recovered the same energy I had for it. I’m still hoping to get back to it someday, but whether that will actually happen, I can’t say. Good thing it wasn’t really getting much traffic—I’d feel even worse if I was disappointing even more people than I may already be.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I think I do well with keeping a story flowing. I tend to write from specific perspectives and make the narrative sound like an internal monologue, which can limit the amount of information a reader receives but makes it fun to only show what the character knows. I believe I’m also pretty good at making ordinary thoughts sound a little prettier by using different words. I just don’t like reusing the same phrases over and over.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

In connection with the previous question, I can get too wordy. What I could say with one sentence can take me a paragraph to get out. Sometimes that’s called for, especially if the character is in a position where they’re rambling to themselves, but sometimes it’s unnecessary.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

If I have a character speaking another language, I’ll usually put it in italics and indicate that they’re speaking another language. (…Like all the Russian in my Captain America/Harry Potter AU. I haven’t thought of that series in YEARS, yet here we are.) I don’t trust that Google translate will provide an accurate translation that would stand up to scrutiny by those who actually speak the language, and it can really detract from a story as a reader to keep scrolling to the bottom to see what the footnotes say. To each their own, but that’s my system.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter back on good ol’ MuggleNet Fanfiction. They’re all still there, too!

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

My brain…doesn’t work that way, unfortunately. I only write for fandoms that I fixate on, so there really isn’t any casual fanfiction for me. I’ve wanted to write Kingdom Hearts fanfiction for years, but it’s so compelling and complex as it is that I can never think of what I’d write for it and have therefore done very little despite it being my first and longest-standing fandom. Typically, though, the desire to write smacks me in the face when I consume something new and have that “oh…I need more…oh no” moment.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I would say it’s a tie between Somnus Ultima and the Light in the Shadows series (you guessed it—the Captain America/Harry Potter AU). While the former can be wordy and the latter is obviously one of my older works, what they have in common is that they required the most creativity. The rest of my fics tend to be canon compliant (or had better be for the endless research I put into them) and feel like playing in someone else’s sandbox. Those felt like taking multiple sandboxes, pulling them apart, and creating a brand new sandbox from the various pieces. I’m more proud of them than I can say.

I don’t really know many fic writers on a basis where I’d feel comfortable tagging them, so I send this out to just @glon-morski , @gardenerian , and @mrs-monaghansblog if you so desire! 🧡

#tag meme #it me #fanfiction

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ricinbach · 3 years

Text

mercy. | chapter 14 - question

he needs information and there is no way in hell he is playing nice.

Everyone was afraid.

No matter how much they tried to act like everything was just fine, or conceal it behind the roaring buzz of bullets, every single living soul on this earth knew that their time was very limited - and even that could end in a split second. Everyone and their mother knew nothing good ever came out of displaying the horrors felt inside, no matter how powerful and how restricting they might have been.

A single tear, hitched breath or an evasive blink - and you could join the pile of dead bodies scattered with your insides thrown around and throat bit.

Well, there was no use in hiding in that particular cabin room in the middle of the blizzard - it reeked of pure and raw fear throughout.

It was in the way they breathed - in slow, sometimes fast-paced hitches when his fist met their jaws. In the way that fresh blood dripped and splattered across the floor. The way their chests heaved from exertion and fear, coupled with sheer pain running through them.

For that given moment, it was a small price to pay, considering they still were partially alive and breathing. That did not stop the uncertainty of the next second with a man so unpredictable and so dangerous from surrounding their entire beings in agony of what was to come.

What he was going to do to them, and more importantly, why.

Suddenly the pair of hunters working under yet another crazy-enough, makeshift faction leader wished they had been long deceased. Maybe even that would not be enough to save them the agony that was to come.

"You saved my life once."

The wooden planks rattled under each thud of heavy snow boots, creaking under weight. The whisper of the winter breeze leaking through the cracks in the windows in a violent hiss.

His presence, that eminent embodiment of just what the human race was capable of doing when distressed, was what made the room freeze.

"I hope I can save yours too."

It would be an understatement to say that the two tied up and beaten down were not the only ones hurting.

The gruff man clung onto his abdomen between bouts of anger and punching, the residual pain sending shrieks through his body through the tight stitches that kept him together. How he managed to hold it together still had been just as much of a dilemma to himself. It was like this fire, fueled by anger, pure fear and agony, burned within him, giving him just the right amount the power to keep on going.

All he could do was pray that his stamina did not betray him right when he needed it the most.

Taking steps towards the one tied to the chair, helplessly trying to maneuver and kick off his restraints, the vibrations of his steps echoed through, instilling such fear into his captive.

Like a jaguar, albeit wounded, moving through the jungle to land the final blow on his prey.

He sat down and glared at the quivering man with a certain aura of determination surroinding him and his movements, his dark eyebrows furrowed together in the sheer brutality of the actions he was planning on committing in the moments to come. And in that moment, looking into the eyes of one of his attackers - he was ready to do whatever it took to get to you and her.

Torturing and extracting information after beating the shit out of whoever crossed his path had been the ways he got accustomed to during his days as a hunter, having seen both sides of things. It was not pretty, it never was - Joel did not get satisfaction in tearing apart kneecaps or popping off fingernails for it to splatter blood all over his face.

No, he only did things when he absolutely had to. Given the everlasting brutality and the harsh reality of the crooked world they lived in, he found himself doing unspeakable things more often than he liked - as much as the man beneath that stone-covered heart screamed at him not to sometimes, to give humanity a little bit of a chance to redeem themselves.

Tilting his head a bit, he actually found himself pondering the question - the man in front of him quivering in the bonds, forcing himself to look anywhere but his captor.

Would humanity really come around and surprise him for a good, welcome change? If he dropped down the gun just a little lower, would they still shoot or extend a helping hand? He had tried giving humanity a chance - the one time he would not regret putting himself in unnecessary danger was taking you along the ride.

Looking back, the way you took care of him and Ellie without being asked to further, for everything that you have done - he would not have it any other way and he was grateful, something the man did not echo into his words too often.

And only if he could find you in one piece, to tell you that himself.

A cold shiver ran through his being as he thought of the most dreadful of possibilities, of what could have happened to you and the her. That alone was enough to harden the edges of his face, jaw clenching in sharp contrast with his higher up cheekbones - creating a dangerous hollow.

Sometimes, the human race only understood from violence - that much he had learned the hard way. Too many mistakes had been made, too many lives had been lost either bleeding in his bare hands or at the end of his bullet. This was one of those times where mercy was not allowed.

It would never be allowed if it concerned you and the little girl he had grown to love, he would reckon and reason in his troubled head, as he leaned in dangerously close to the man in front of him - his hazel green eyes harboring storms that only a few had seen, turning into the palest of shades in the faint reflection of the sparkling snow through the icy windows.

If this was the only way to get a shot at saving you and Ellie, the animal in him that he had managed to keep repressed for the most part, had to emerge.

“Now,” came the dreaded low grumble, face angled just right to stare at his prey, venom dripping out of his deep voice. “The woman and the girl - are they alive?”

Joel found himself wishing he just gave him what he wanted, without having to spill even more blood. He was getting tired of this bullshit - getting too damn broken for all of this gore and monstrosity. It never was easy, and usually things did not go his way - and he was getting damn sick of it.

C’mon, say somethin’, help me out. Help yourself out.

“What are you talkin’ about? I don’t know any of ‘em.”

That motherfucker.

This time he felt no inch of remorse as he grunted and embedded the switchblade right into the man’s knee, dangerously close to his kneecap - an accuracy that only someone with the rugged experience could muster. The screams echoed, following immediately suit to the blood gushing out - his head hanging low as he yelled out a pained curse. Yet another mistake.

“Focus right here, right here,” Joel would almost coo, voice taking a sickening soft edge as one hand pushed the blade in place. The determination and the boldness so tangible as he slapped his prey to gather his attention to the only focal point that mattered at that moment in time - him.

“Or I’ll pop your goddamn knee off.”

And then it broke.

“They - they’re alive. They’re David’s new pets.”

It felt like his jaw would break from clenching. Joel had never felt his blood boil like this in a damn long time, the adrenaline mixed in with anger running through his veins, the images of the unthinkable instantly flooding into his mind - you and Ellie, battered and bruised. Losing another daughter and another woman he had realized he cared for deeply.

He was not going to be late this time.

“Where?”

The blade was pushed in deeper and further into the veins and the muscle tissue, inching closer to the cap as the man let out an agonizing scream.

“Fuck - fuck, in the town, in the town!”

Seemingly pleased by that for the moment, he would extract the blade in a sickening sound of metal against meat, opting to place the handle of the blade between the straggler’s teeth - almost prying open his mouth viciously as blood dripped from the blade to the floor in soft patters.

A tactic he had learned from his time with the hunters - a dark, dark period in his lifetime where he did a lot of things he had regretted. In moments like these, where he had to hunt or be hunted, a slight wave of deja-vu would hit. Part of him believed that the hunters and their way of surviving had shaped him into who he was now - relentless and unforgiving.

It all came in handy when he least thought of it, and he could not complain.

“Now you’re gonna mark it on the map,” came his low order, extending a dirty map of the area out. “And it better be the exact same spot your buddy points to.”

The man, shocked and dazed from pure pain, would tremble leaning forward as he managed to point the blade to the location of their supposed camp on the map, marking it in a wet crimson.

“It’s right there - you can verify it. Go ask him, go, go on,” he would ramble, tossing the knife out from his mouth to send it sprawling on the hardwood. Eyes bloodshot as he looked up to his captor folding the map and standing up with the same unforgiving expression on his face that spoke of no rainbows and sunshine.

“I ain’t lyin’, man, I ain’t - ”

His very last words would be cut short as a muscular arm wrapped around his bruised throat, cutting the air supply in a grunt as the unbound parts of his arms and legs went flailing against the surface, trying to gain purchase from anything at all - before he choked out in a throaty hiss.

The dreadful sound of a metal pipe being dragged across the wood was enough to set the remaining captive stuttering and begging for his life, struggling against the handcuffs and his heart about to burst like his lip.

“Fuck you man, he told you what you wanted,” came his final line of defense. “I ain’t tellin’ you shit.”

Much to his demise, the man standing tall in front of him appeared to shrug his shoulders ever so slightly, the faint white light hitting his face in such an animalistic glow.

“That’s alright. I believe him.”

#this scene...#just wow #still get chills #joel miller #tlou joel #the last of us #the last of us joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reder #mercy #tlou reader insert

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thehikingviking · 3 years

Text

White Mountain and Whitecliff Peak from Chango Lake Road

Kathy Rich was on a quest to finish the Western States Climbers list, and I got an invite to join her on one of her few remaining peaks. To my knowledge, there is only one person who has finished this list at the time of this writing, so even getting close to finishing is quite the achievement. The peaks on this list were haphazardly chosen, but it does a good job of mixing peaks from various different regions throughout the West. There is a lot of overlap with some of the more popular Sierra Club lists such as the Sierra Peaks Section and the Desert Peaks Section, so if you finish those, you will probably be more than 80% done with Western States Climbers. For that reason, I personally am not really focusing on this list because I feel I will make progress on it by sticking to my normal routine. My main criticism with the SPS list is the clear L.A. bias, and this was one of the main issues that the creators of WSC list were trying to resolve. The peaks of the northern Sierra Nevada are poorly represented, however the Western States Climbers list addresses this by including many peaks unlisted by the Sierra Club in Yosemite and further north. Among these is a patch of peaks north of Sonora Pass on the east side of the Sierra Crest. In this patch were White Mountain and Whitecliff Peak, and I was happy to try them as a day hike from my cabin in Sonora.

Kathy invited Greg Gerlach and Larry Grant while I invited Mike Toffey, David Dully and Colin Gregory. Toffey is open to climbing any peak on the planet, so I expected him to join. However, I was surprised that Colin accepted the invite since he is quite picky with regards to choosing peaks. It seems that available weekends trump quality of peak now that he is a father. We were all set to spend the night at my cabin in Sonora and do the peaks as a day hike, but Kathy changed her mind at the last minute and decided to backpack. If I would have known this earlier, I simply would have chose to do a better peak, since social reasons motivated me to join this outing in the first place. With this change of plans, I expected to see the others only for about five minutes on the day of the hike, and that ended up being the case. I had planned the trip to the cabin with my family, so I couldn’t change plans so easily. At least I still had Toffey, Colin and Dully who were willing to join me.

Colin and Dully arrived at my cabin really late on Friday night, but at least PG&E didn’t wake me up in the middle of the night. It was a two hour drive from my cabin to the trailhead. We took Dully’s Jeep since I wanted to leave mine with Asaka back at the cabin. We passed through the gate at the Marine Corps Mountain Warfare Training Center. There was some confusion at first when they learned we were only passing through to go hiking. I guess we all look of military age. We then continued along the graded Forest Road 059 until our turnoff at Forest Road 062, which I believe is unofficially named Chango Lake Road. We got a little confused when we passed through a ski area, and some of the road was a little challenging for Dully’s 4WD vehicle, but we were able to drive to 9,400 feet due east of White Benchmark. Here there was a fork in the road, with one branch heading towards Chango Lake and the other leading to the ridge. We decided to start hiking here. We followed the road for a short distance and then it ended abruptly. We climbed up a steep section of forest and emerged on the open ridge above. Off to the south was Tower Peak, which Colin, Dully and I planned to climb less than a month later.

We found several shell casings throughout the day. I guess the Marines come up here sometimes to hone their skills.

Simply climbing White Mountain first would have shortened our day’s effort by a bit, but we wanted to climb White Benchmark as well for the sake of completion. The benchmark stood about a mile south of the peak, and looked to only require a very reasonable extra effort. For the first time in a while, I was not the most obsessive compulsive person in the group with regards to turning red dots green, so it was easy to convince the group to take my proposed route.

The ridge had a small rise which we had to climb over. Some light bushwhacking was needed in places, but this probably could have been avoided. Dully and Toffey took the lead up the mountain while Colin and I hung back. This gave us the opportunity to talk about our kids, but also to test a theory. Colin has a bad habit of getting very sick while hiking, so he tried talking less and hiking slower than usual. I supported this vocal moderation since it's a nasty thing that I’ve witnessed him deal with. Looking back, he did not end up getting sick on this particular day, so maybe we are finally onto something.

Dully and I started talking politics as we emerged out of the pine forest. Dully was strongly in support of forgiving all student loan debt. I challenged this proclamation by stating that such an act would be unfair as it would mostly benefit middle and upper class white people. Per EducationData.org, Caucasian students have the most cumulative student loan debt. Additionally, 45% of student loan debt is from graduate schools. I was accepted to UC Davis MBA program, but when the tuition came back at over $100k, I considered the return on investment versus the amount of debt I would be straddled with and decided not to go. Even after they came back with a $20k scholarship, I still felt that the tuition was not worth taking on, and passed on the opportunity. Perhaps I can consider graduate school if tuition prices get under control one day, but I refuse to go into unnecessary debt.

The last several hundred feet was a boring slog.

The others would beat me to the summit, but I was content to hang back and take my time. We had a long day ahead of us.

We had great views from White Benchmark. To the south were Tower Peak and Forsyth Peak.

To the southwest were Leavitt Peak and Sonora Peak.

To the northwest was Stanislaus Peak.

To the north was White Mountain.

To the east were Lost Cannon Peak and the Sweetwater Range.

With the higher summit still a mile further north, we took only a short break and continued along the ridge.

We went over an intermediate bump then continued to the true high point. There was a lone backpacker slightly ahead of us. We guessed he was section hiking the PCT and Colin was eager to ask him a million questions. By the time we arrived on the summit, he was nowhere to be seen. It's almost as if he vanished into thin air. Looking back towards the south was White Benchmark.

To the northwest were Stanislaus Peak and Disaster Peak.

The rock formations were very interesting on this summit. A lot of flat granitic rocks were piled on top of a base of red volcanic rock. I found a good sitting rock slightly below the summit and took a long rest by my lonesome. I felt fat and tired, and worst of all, we had a lot of off trail hiking ahead of us.

After our break, we continued north along the ridgeline. On some sections we eliminated unnecessary elevation gain by sidehilling, but this was slow and tedious. We found some gear laying around here, and I believe this is where the other summit party of Larry, Greg and Kathy camped the night before. We would find no running water along the ridge throughout the day, so I assume they had to melt snow in order to get water. The only time I’ve ever had to melt snow was on Mt Rainier.

We reached a broad plateau about a mile north of White Mountain. I did a time check and calculated that we would not catch up to the other group on the way to the summit of Whitecliff Peak. In addition, we would most likely be done very late in the day. I expressed my concerns to Dully, explaining that we still had 5 mountains to climb. There were two unnamed peaks with over 400 feet of prominence between us and Whitecliff Peak, and we would have to climb the unnamed peaks twice. At least we had long daylight hours.

Stanislaus Peak

After the long plateau we dropped into a little saddle. Another section of elevation gain for the return, I thought to myself. I picked my way through the trees, clearly lagging behind the others. I thought about the tortoise and the hare. In this case there were three hares ahead of me. They were full of spunk, and were even climbing the unnecessary subpeak of Point 10821. I considered reminding them to conserve energy, but as the slowest person, it felt improper for me to share advice. It was a long gradual ridge to the top of Peak 11000, and then an almost rude drop down to the saddle to the north.

I hiked up some sandy slopes to the top of the ridge, again finding myself in the back. The others met Larry Grant near the summit of Peak 10990. They chatted with him and then continued to the summit. At some point Colin voiced to the others that I looked like I was struggling, and conversely he was feeling great. A few minutes later I met Larry and learned that he was still recovering from Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, and he decided to turn around since he was still rehabilitating. The good news was that Greg and Kathy had made the summit and were on their way back. I met Toffey, Colin and Dully on the summit of Peak 10990. We could finally see Whitecliff Peak about a mile further north.

The peak looked super cool and I was excited to be so close. I spotted Greg and Kathy down below cutting across the white section of ridge beneath us. I had to use the little boy’s room, so I ran ahead to find a nice bush. On the way I stopped to chat with Greg and Kathy. Unfortunately, our conversation lasted only a few minutes since my biological situation was getting dire. Toffey and I said our goodbyes and continued down the ridge. With shrubs all around and soft sand beneath my feet, I finally picked a spot to dig a hole and fill it back in.

By the time I was finished, Toffey had made some distance ahead of me, but Colin and Dully still hadn’t passed me. I looked back up the ridge and saw them both sitting next to each other staring at Whitecliff Peak from above. They are quitting, I thought to myself. This was very bizarre. Just a few minutes ago they were telling Toffey how strong they felt, and they were within a mile from the summit. At least Toffey was still getting after it. I followed his footsteps through the sand, trying my best to catch up to him.

I watched Toffey power up the steep sandy slopes ahead. He yelled down to me asking what Colin and Dully were doing, and I yelled back saying they were bailing. I looked back again and they still hadn’t moved from their perch. Toffey was speechless. Rather than dwell on negativity, we turned our focus back to Whitecliff Peak, which stood beautifully above us.

The next section looked intimidating, but I was ready to tap into my reserves. I powered up this section, putting all of my concerns about being too out of shape to rest. I caught up to Toffey on the upper portion of the peak. He was kind enough to wait for me. We examined the day’s turn of events, but remained puzzled. At least we would make the summit. To the east of the peak was Whitecliff Lake.

We transitioned from white rock back to red rock. The hike culminated with an easy class 3 chimney to the summit of Whitecliff Peak.

The ridgeline remained multicolored as it continued further north. Somewhere in the distance was Mineral Mountain.

To the east were Antelope Peak and Fish Valley Peak.

To the south was the flat top of Peak 10990.

To the southwest was Stanislaus Peak. It looked pretty cool from this perspective.

To the west were Dardanelle Cone and Disaster Peak.

To the northwest were Round Top, Tryon Peak and Highland Peak.

I felt pretty good. It was after 2pm but we were only a week away from the summer solstice. We decided to head back. Only two peaks left, I thought to myself.

The boot ski down the white, sandy section was done in a matter of seconds. Then we powerwalked along the ridge, trying our best to find the most optimal path.

I told Toffey that I would be intentionally slow on all the uphill sections, but he was kind enough to stick with me. Colin and Dully were gone by the time we reached Peak 10990. Toffey and I were still a little speechless about the earlier occurrence. We exchanged theories and made many comments in jest. I guessed that upon meeting Larry who had turned back, they began to question themselves and lost confidence. The main difference is that Larry was a 70 year old recovering from a serious illness while the others were two perfectly healthy young men in their primes. Climbing down and back up Peak 11000 was a bear. At least it was my last peak. I had a patch of service here and was able to call Colin. They decided to return with the others and were heading back to the car. I asked them if they could pick us up at the Silver Creek Meadow Trailhead and they agreed. That lifted my spirits.

We had one last little bit of uphill before reaching the large plateau from earlier. Toffey was seriously considering climbing Wells Peak as a bonus peak. I urged him on but in the end he decided against it. I called Asaka and told her to expect us at a later time. Needless to say she was unhappy. From the plateau we dropped down into the Silver Creek Drainage, hoping to pick up the trail at the bottom of the canyon.

We found a gentle cross country route down. There was a lot of bear sign, but we didn’t see any critters. Once at the bottom, we picked up a faint trial, however this disappeared as we continued down the canyon.

We would pick up the trail several times and then promptly lose it again. There was clear sign of human activity. I guessed it was mostly from ranchers running cattle up the canyon.

I must say that it was a very beautiful canyon, and I’m happy to have experienced walking through it.

We followed rocks in a line and blazes on trees, but there was not much of a method to their construction. In some locations these markers appeared genuinely random.

My feet started to hurt as we hiked the last couple of miles. My legs were also feeling pretty heavy.

We finally emerged at what I assume was Silver Creek Meadows.

We crossed the creek and finally picked up a proper trail. Towards the end of our hike, we ran into some pack outfitters.

It was a 16 mile effort from car to car for Toffey and me. To our delight, we found Colin and Dully waiting at the trailhead. I was a little concerned that they would be late or might not find the right way. Unfortunately we never saw Kathy, Greg or Larry again. It was a long 2+ hour drive back to my cabin. I was literally starving. Colin was insistent upon buying a soda, but every store along Hwy 108 was closed. Nonetheless, we had to stop at almost every convenience store, even if they were dark from the inside. To make matters worse, we took a wrong turn trying to find the cabin, adding an extra 10 minutes to our drive. When we finally got home, I was so weak and famished. Thankfully, Asaka had prepared lasagna for us, and I scarfed this down like a pig at its trough. It’s amazing how quickly I recover with a full belly. Daryn beat us back to the cabin. He did his own hike that day to Relief Peak, Molo Mountain and Kennedy Peak. As we sat on the porch, Colin was thrilled to report that he had no altitude sickness throughout the day, and for the most part felt great. Daryn subsequently asked why he decided to turn around then. The reason seemed to be that they were okay with their day and they can always come back and get Whitecliff Peak from the north. We didn’t really understand this reasoning, considering they were less than a mile from the peak, had only easy terrain remaining in perfect conditions and were physically fine. I guess we’ll just chalk this up as a peculiar circumstance.

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nicodiangelone · 4 years

Text

lesbians do exist

y’all remember this post? well i wrote it! 1.6k words of Thalia gay panicking to Annabeth, now on ao3! enjoy :)

ps Annabeth is bi in this fic she just don’t know it yet

Thalia has mixed feelings about Camp Half-Blood.

She loves the strawberry fields and the freedom to run wild in the woods and kill shit whenever she feels the urge. She likes the friendly animosity between the Hunters and the campers. She likes getting to stay in the Artemis cabin when she visits. It isn’t particularly welcoming, like the Zeus cabin, but at least it has beds, unlike the Zeus cabin. She hates the Zeus cabin and that stupid fucking statue.

On the flip side, she hates the strange looks she gets from campers who know she used to be a tree, and she isn’t particularly fond of the memories associated with that time of her life.

Right now, though, she’s never seen a thing more beautiful than the owl carving over the door to the Athena cabin. She takes a moment to talk strategy with herself and evaluates her options: to be sneaky or not to be sneaky. Both options are equally likely to end in violence. She decides that not being sneaky will at least give her the advantage of being able to see, and throws open the door with enough force that it slams into the wall with a satisfying bang.

Theres a shuffle, several thumps, and a very loud thud. The lights come on.

Annabeth is still in bed, propped up on her elbow while her free hand holds her dagger. One of her siblings is on the floor, legs tangled up in their bedsheets. Two more of them are standing in front of their beds, weapons ready.

Annabeth squints at the doorway. “Thalia?”

“Hi,” Thalia says.

Annabeth starts kicking free of her sheets, confusion giving way to concern. She gets herself upright and hops around as she tries to put on socks. “What’s wrong?”

This question gets a few more of the Athena kids moving. They start pulling on sweatshirts and reaching for weapons, which is really very unnecessary, so Thalia throws up her hands as a sign for them to stop.

“Nothing is wrong,” she says. “Just need to talk to Annabeth.”

Annabeth has pulled on a sweatshirt and hiking boots and is strapping her dagger to her thigh. Her pajama shorts have cartoon spiders on them. Thalia is amused.

“What’s wrong,” Annabeth repeats.

“Nothing,” Thalia insists. “Just wanted to talk.”

Annabeth stares at her, then looks to the sky for guidance. “Alright,” she says. “False alarm, everyone, back in bed.”

“Alarm?” Thalia says, offended.

“Yes,” Annabeth says. “We’ll just be outside.” She grabs Thalia’s arm and drags her out the door, pulling it shut behind them. At the bottom of the porch stairs, Annabeth lets go of her arm and turns to face Thalia. “Okay, seriously, what’s wrong?”

Thalia frowns. “Nothing, is everything okay here?”

“Camp is fine. Is Artemis okay? Where are the rest of the Hunters?”

“What? She’s fine, I think, and I left them in Wyoming.”

“Wyoming?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I needed to talk to you.”

“Thalia,” Annabeth rubs at her forehead, “Not that it isn’t good to see you, but it’s the middle of the night.”

“Oh. Sorry. This is as fast as I could get here.”

“Okay. What did you want to talk about?”

And isn’t that the kicker. “I think I like girls,” Thalia says.

“What?” Annabeth says.

“Girls,” Thalia says. “Did you know girls could kiss other girls? And date them?”

“Thalia,” Annabeth says. “Did you not know that?”

“Annabeth,” Thalia says. “How was I supposed to know that?”

“Thalia,” Annabeth says.

“I was a tree for my tweens, Annie, and then I joined the Hunt. When was I supposed to learn that?”

“Thalia,” Annabeth says. She starts cracking up. So much, in fact, that she has to sit down on the bottom step.

Thalia’s face burns. “This isn’t funny, Annabeth.”

“I’m sorry,” Annabeth says between laughs. “It’s just, you showed up with no warning in the middle of the night and broke down my cabin door to ask me if I knew about lesbians.”

“There’s a word for it?”

Annabeth’s laughter fades. She nods.

“Lesbians,” Thalia says. She sits down next to Annabeth on the stairs. “What does it mean, exactly.”

“A lesbian is a girl who likes other girls. Romantically. Plural, lesbians.”

“Huh,” Thalia stares out at the commons.

“So,” Annabeth says. “You think that’s you?”

“I don’t know,” Thalia says honestly. Because she doesn’t. She just knows that several months ago, Artemis told them stories of an ancient Greek poet named Sappho. She wrote love poems about women. The idea of that took up an increasing amount of space in Thalia’s brain over the months that followed, until they ended up in Seattle chasing rumors of the manticore. That’s where she saw rainbow crosswalks and learned the word pride, let it soak into her body and echo around her brain, where they stayed with Phoebe’s aunt and her wife.

Phoebe’s aunt had a buzzcut and wore bermuda shorts and tank tops that made it easy to see how muscular her arms were. She had an abstract tattoo of a naked women on her calf. She held her wife’s hand in the living room after dinner while the Hunters sat around listening to Phoebe recount their adventures.

They left the next morning, heading for Wyoming. Thalia spent the trip thinking about that tattoo. When they set up camp that night, she sat staring at the fire, thinking, and thinking, asking Phoebe questions about her aunt and her wife, until Phoebe had asked why she was so interested and Thalia brushed it off even as Kill Bill sirens went off in her head.

She found herself heading for Camp Half Blood a few hours later.

“It’s okay if that is you,” Annabeth says softly.

Thalia frowns. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

It’s hard to know for sure, in the dark, but she thinks Annabeth’s face changes into something sadder. “Nevermind,” she says.

“Sorry to show up like this,” Thalia says quietly. “I wasn’t thinking. I just--I didn’t know who else to go to.”

Annabeth shifts over and presses her shoulder against Thalia’s. “It’s okay. It’s just late, I jumped to conclusions. We never get good surprises around here. But I’m glad you came.”

Thalia lets her head rest on Annabeth’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

“You can always talk to me, you know,” Annabeth says.

“I know,” Thalia says. “Thank you.”

Annabeth takes her hand and squeezes it. Thalia loves her. Her little sister, older than her now, a counselor, giving her worldly advice on her front stoop at ass o’clock in the morning. She feels lucky to have a friend like this, lucky that Annabeth still cares for her even though she’s never around.

“I love you,” she whispers.

Annabeth squeezes her hand again. “I love you too.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes. Thalia can’t hear Annabeth thinking, but it’s a close thing.

Eventually, Annabeth says, “You know, there are gay campers that might be more help than me. You can stick around, talk to them.”

Thalia winces. “I should get back to the Hunters.”

“They won’t be fine without you?”

“I left abruptly. I should go back, check in.”

“How abruptly?”

“In the middle of the night abruptly?”

“Thalia,” Annabeth says. “Did you leave without telling anyone?”

“No! I told Phoebe, my second in command.”

“What, exactly, did you tell her?”

She lifts her head off Annabeth’s shoulder and stares at the ground. “I told her Artemis had an errand for me to run.”

“Thalia!”

“I couldn’t just tell her the truth!”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, Annabeth, maybe because we all swore off romance? And I thought that was fine because I’ve never liked a boy in my life, but now that I know there are other options I’m not sure anymore? I just didn’t know what to say to her. So I lied. And Phoebe is kind of a snitch.”

Annabeth snorts. “Bitch.”

“Yeah. Love and respect her, but she’d totally tell Artemis. And then what?”

“Thalia,” Annabeth says, voice soft again. “And then what?”

“What?”

“You can’t just go back to the Hunters and pretend this never happened.”

“Sure I can,” Thalia says easily.

“But do you want to?”

Thalia kicks at the dirt with her toes. “No, I guess not. But I don’t think I’m ready to just leave the Hunters. And I don’t want to live in cabin one, it’s fucking depressing.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“There’s a big statue of Zeus and no beds.”

“There aren’t any beds?” Annabeth exclaims.

“Nope. Just the big man himself and a bunch of eagle statues.”

Annabeth mutters something rude under her breath. “Well, then you can stay in the Big House.” She bumps her shoulder against Thalia and grins. “Or in Percy’s cabin, gods know he has extra room.”

“Gods, no,” Thalia groans, but a small part of her brain is telling her it might not be that bad. “I’ll think about it,” she says.

“No beds,” Annabeth grumbles. “Who fucking decided that?”

“I think we know,” Thalia scoffs, and Annabeth scowls.

“Fuckers,” Annabeth says. Thalia smiles and leans her head back on Annabeth’s shoulder.

“But really, Thals,” Annabeth says. “What are you going to do?”

Thalia takes a moment to think. “Go back to the Hunters. Sort my shit out. Talk to Artemis, probably.”

“Get your affairs in order?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Well, you know where to find me if you need me,” Annabeth says.

“Yeah,” Thalia smiles. “I do.”

#thalia grace #thalia #pjo #my fic #pjo fic

84 notes · View notes

deamstellarus · 4 years

Text

In Viata Asta (3)

Pairing: Stucky x Reader Word Count: 6k Warnings: Uhm…none? Maybe injuries and language?

A/N: Sorry this update is so late! My work schedule was shit last week so I was behind on editing and posting. So! I thought posting a little early would help make up for it, and it’s the longest so far? Also yes I know, this gif doesn’t have that much to do with this update but I love how it looks.

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You woke up to murmured voices and mechanical beeps. You were in a bed in a very white room. You could only assume it was the infirmary of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. Several IVs were attached to your arm. A woman with long dark hair in a bun and a white lab coat jotted something down on a clipboard beside you, then took her leave silently. Something was making your brain feel hazy. Your bets were on the strong antiseptics in the air, but it was more likely whatever pain meds they were feeding you. Your hand was bandaged now, your back probably was too for how tight it felt. You started to sit up in bed.

“You don’t want to do that, zvezdochka. With your luck, you’d probably pull all your stitches.” Natasha sat next to your bed in an uncomfortable chair, staring intensely at the screen of her tablet. She set it down on the small side table next to you, and pushed a button on a remote. Your bed shifted you into a seated position. She held a white cup with a straw to your lips. You drank greedily, the cool water soothing your dry throat.

“How long...?” You croaked.

“Only twenty-four hours. You lost a decent amount of blood but we got you back soon enough.”

Then why did it feel like you were laying on fire?

“Your back was practically shredded from the rocks.” Had you said that out loud? “You needed a few stitches but you’ll be fine. The boys should be back in a few minutes with snacks, if you’re hungry.”

You nodded. Or tried to; your neck was stiff. Natasha went back to her tablet, so you closed your eyes for a few more minutes before Steve and Sam’s voices echoed through the otherwise quiet space.

“Look who’s up. Miss Rough and Tumble.” Sam’s toothy grin lit up the room.

“How are you feeling, Blue?” Steve’s ocean eyes were filled with concern. He looked perfectly okay. As if he hadn’t almost drowned in an evil river. Stupid super soldier serum.

“Just peachy, Cap.”

“I thought we had a deal.”

“Sorry… Steve.” You smirked. Your stomach grumbled. Loudly. He chuckled and plopped the white paper bag he held on your lap. You opened it, smiling to yourself when you found a couple buttery croissants and one of those twisted glazed doughnuts. Natasha was giving away all of your secrets it seems. You chose a croissant, biting into the warm, flaky pastry. It was glorious.

“I see you still can't go very long without getting yourself into some kind of trouble," a familiar voice said.

"Sorry, sir, I—" Steve started before you cut him off.

"To be fair, I was doing fine on my own until these hooligans showed up." You muttered, mouth full, lazily gesturing to Steve, Natasha, and Sam, who stared at you indignantly.

"Don't be like that, Baby Blue!"

Fury looked unimpressed. "Excuses are—"

“...just lies we tell ourselves to justify doing something poorly." You finished his phrase, then swallowed. "It's nice to see you too, Nick."

"Nick?" Sam gasped.

"What, did you think his name was just Fury?"

"He doesn't exactly like when anyone calls him that," Sam grumbled.

"Aww, Nick! I knew you were going soft on me."

Fury grunted, but eventually relented and came over to pat your shoulder until you flinched at his touch.

"Heal up, Agent. We’ll talk about the incident when you’re standing on your own two feet again," he said as he walked to the door.

"Not an agent," you called after him.

"We'll see about that." He threw out.

You pouted. You knew it was unbecoming of you, but this is what you'd been dreading. You didn't want to come back to S.H.I.E.L.D. That time of your life turned out to be so traumatic you ended up in a cabin by yourself for two years. But the reality is, you knew he'd get his way in the end. He always did.

__________

As far as doctors went, Dr. Alexandra Marks was patient and kind, and clearly had years of experience dealing with agents that tended to make reappearances in her infirmary. She was thorough with her diagnostics and made sure to emphasize what you could, but more importantly could not, do while you were in the recovery phase. Stitches, a heavy dose of fluids, and an advanced topical solution to help “speed up cell production”, and you were patched together the best you could be. Supposedly, they had a machine that was designed to generate skin, called the Cradle. It could have prevented the scarring, but it was out of commission due to an update or something. To be honest, it sounded too much like a cross between a crazy science experiment and a magic trick. Just the thought made you wary.

“While you’re still lucid, I need you to give me a report of what happened,” Natasha said after Dr. Marks and the boys left. She attached a keyboard to her tablet, pulling the kickstand out so the whole thing could rest on the bed tray. “It’s just better to do this while it’s still fresh in your mind.”

“Yeah, I know.” You frowned at the screen. Blips of the incident flashed through your mind. “Honestly, I’m not too sure what I actually remember. It feels like it’s all a blur.”

“Any little detail helps,” she pushed. “Anything at all.”

Weren’t those guys just Hydra goons though? But if that were the case, then why did it feel like there’s something more to this?

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Her face went through a series of micro-expressions that you would have missed had you not known to look for them.

“Is it not Hydra that came after us?”

“We don’t know. But… it doesn’t look like it at this point.” She sighed. “Just write the report for now.”

“Okay.”

So you did. Any little thing you could remember from the men to the river, you included in your retelling. For the most part, you didn’t remember the men standing out in any way more than they seemed out of place in the general store. The majority of the normal clientele wore flannels, sweatshirts, or thick hunting jackets. The sleek black jackets and black caps they’d been wearing made them stand out. That being said, everything was nondescript, no labels, no logos. Pretty generic bad guys if you were being honest. The only thing you could think of was the small tattoo on the side of one of their necks, but you hadn’t been close enough to see the actual design.

Maybe that was just you being paranoid and projecting. The tattoo was probably just a tattoo.

A couple hours later, Dr. Marks released you, with a promise that you wouldn’t do “anything unnecessary like your troublemaker friends.” You snickered at that.

Natasha gave you a tour of what you now learned was the Avengers Compound in upstate New York. Apparently, S.H.I.E.L.D. has been running part of the agency out of the side buildings that were part of the campus since they re-established, while there was still a segment in D.C. She pointed out the different buildings and rooms during the brief tour, but you were distracted, rightfully so, by the sheer amount of agents that gave you judgemental stares the entire way to the main Avengers building. You steeled your nerves; you wouldn’t give them anything more before you could physically defend yourself.

You stepped into an elevator after Natasha, the smooth doors sliding silently shut behind you. You allowed your shoulders a break from the stiff, upright posture you’d taken.

“You alright?” Natasha asked.

“Yup.”

“Ignore them. The most fun the majority of them have is over rumors and gossip.” Natasha said. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., third floor please.”

“Of course, Agent Romanoff,” a voice responded from above.

“A.I.?” you questioned. Natasha nodded.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. is one of Tony’s creations. She’ll help you with anything you need.”

“Huh, well thanks in advance then, F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

“It’s my pleasure… I cannot find your identification in any system, miss. What shall I call you?”

“Oh, you can call me Blue?”

“Very well. Enjoy your stay, Blue.”

The doors opened, revealing a hallway that lead to the left and right of the elevator and seemingly wrapped around the perimeter of the building. In the center, you were able to look down over a common area of sorts, with a variety of couches, tables, an oversized TV, and a kitchen off to the side. Natasha turned to the right, passing several doors before she stopped.

“This is your room.”

The door in front of you was a glossy white with a biometric scanner to the side.

“Put your hand to the scanner,” she said. You did. A blue light shone through your hand, then with a soft click, the door slid open. The room was bigger than you thought it’d be, but knowing who owned the building, you didn’t expect anything less. There was a plush bed on one side of the room, a desk with a swivel chair on the opposite wall. Tall windows allowed natural light in the space. A fluffy rug and long drapes helped make the room less cold and clinical. But that wasn’t what drew your attention the most.

Draped across the bed was the plush purple blanket Clint had bought you when you were first brought back to headquarters. It was so, so soft. On top of that was your green duffle bag. It was the one thing you took with you everywhere. It stayed stocked and ready for if you needed to leave at short notice.

“Thank you, Natasha.”

“Of course,” she nodded.

"No chance of me going back to the cabin, huh?" You asked. Because as lonely as it had been there, it was yours, for the most part, and had become your safe place.

She shook her head. "Sorry, Blue. It wasn't discovered yet, but now they've seen your face, they know you're in the area. We can't take that chance."

You knew that, of course. She only confirmed it.

“There’s an ensuite bathroom behind that door, and a walk-in closet next to it,” Natasha pointed out. “It’s not the cabin, but it’s a good place to stay. You’ll like it here,” You nodded.

She pulled you into her arms, her hands holding you like she didn't want to let go.

"You scared me, zvezdochka," she whispered into your hair.

"I know. I’m sorry.” It was rare for her to show so much emotion. As long as you’d known her, Natasha had always kept her feelings hidden.

A cough at the door disrupted the mood.

“What does a guy have to do to get the famous Widow to hold him like that?” The man leaned against the door frame, dressed in jeans and a vintage band t-shirt. It seemed far too casual for such a well-known billionaire.

Beside you, Natasha pulled away and rolled her eyes. Like a switch, her blasé facade was back in full force.

“Tony, this is Blue. Blue, Tony Stark,” she introduced.

“What kind of name is Blue?”

“It’s a nickname,” you said.

“Uh huh.” He squinted at you. “And your real name would be?”

“Leave it alone, Stark,” Natasha growled.

“I just find it strange that not only is there no record of her in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s database, but I can’t find her anywhere. Not a name, a city, a school, medical record. Nothing.”

Natasha bristled. Her eyes were narrowed slits. “I said leave it alone, Stark. She’s a personal friend of mine and Barton’s. Leave it alone.”

Tony glared at Natasha for a moment before yielding.

“Fine, but we’re talking about this later.” To you, he said, “Welcome to the compound, kid.”

He took his leave, and Natasha shook her head.

“He doesn’t like when he doesn’t know everything about something or someone. Unfortunately, he will get his way eventually. He’s pushy, but it comes from a good place.”

“Don’t worry about me, Tasha. I can handle him. Besides, I am living under his roof for now, he has a right to know what he wants to know.”

“Only if you want to.” She puts a hand to your shoulder, before she walks to the door. But his inquiry did make you wonder…

“Why isn’t there a SHIELD file for me, or at least Agent M?”

“It may have gotten...lost when I released the files to the public.”

“You deleted mine instead of yours?” You remember she had a list of aliases, most from before she joined “the good guys.”

She shrugged. “It was time for a new chapter anyway.” She waved it off as if it meant nothing, but she risked her own neck so you could remain nameless.

“Thank you, sestrenka.” She was always looking out for you.

“Dinner is at six. You’ll meet most of the rest of the team then. Take a nap, you look like you need it.” She winked.

“Tell me the truth, how bad does it look?” You tilted your head, indicating your back.

“Eh, it’s just a few stitches.” With that, she left, copper curls bouncing behind her. And really you had no choice but to take a nap like she said. Especially when the bed looked that comfortable. __________

Natasha lied. That was your only thought as you looked at your body in the mirror of your bathroom. It was not just a few stitches. Forty-seven in total. You cringed as you read off the report FRIDAY supplied. Hearing it from Dr. Marks, and reading it off the report, hadn’t quite prepared you visually for the reality of your injuries. From what you could tell, your back was covered in black zig-zags, reminiscent of Frankenstein's monster. At least as much as you could see that peeked out from underneath the white bandages and gauze. Plum-colored splotches covered your body. In addition to your back, your right hand also received six stitches, and your sprained ankle was now wrapped. And there were bags under your eyes. You looked awful and felt like a walking bruise.

“The meeting will be starting in fifteen minutes, Blue,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice startled you.

“Thanks.” You’d have to get used to never quite being alone alone.

Dinner passed by pretty well the night before, by your standards at least. Tony had apologized for his aggressive questioning, with a nudge from Pepper Potts, however wary of you he may still be. That was alright for now. Steve and Sam had taken the initiative to make you feel included in the conversations, though you were more content to observe the people around you. You were introduced to Col. James Rhodes, who had a dry sense of humor and held himself like a military man, and Dr. Bruce Banner, whose alter ego was a stark contrast to the mild-tempered man that had sat beside you. By far, the most fascinating member you’d met was Vision, an android with an English accent who reminded you vaguely of a curious child.

Now you were heading to a meeting Fury requested you attend. A loose-fitted tee and a pair of sweatpants and you were on your way out the door, wishing you’d had the forethought to have packed makeup in your duffle bag. While you never needed it on the mountain, it would have helped make you look marginally more presentable and less dead. Especially on the walk through the interconnected buildings to the conference room where you stuck out like a sore thumb. Maybe Natasha could take you out to pick some things up soon.

You cracked the door open. Eight and a half pairs of eyes followed you to the empty seat next to Sam. You were the last one there. Of course. Fury stood at the head of the table, Maria Hill next to him, arms behind her back. She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at you. Steve, Natasha, Tony, and three agents in uniform filled out the rest of the table. A projection screen behind Fury exhibited pictures of several men you didn’t recognize.

“Now that we’re all here, let’s begin,” Fury said. He pointed between two of the five pictures on the screen. “These two men matched the facial recognition we were able to get off the cameras at the general store where the Captain and Agent M were first shot at, amongst civilians. There were no casualties in the store.”

You squinted. The men looked familiar now, especially without the hats to obstruct their faces. In the right image was the man you’d known to have the tattoo. Now that you could see it, on the left side of his neck, the small symbol looked like three triangles overlapping.

“They were found dead in their vehicle on the side of the road, SUV wrapped around a tree. This is confirmed with the reports Captain Rogers and Agent M gave upon arrival.” He pointed to the next two images. “These two were killed on sight by the extraction team in search of the Captain and Agent M.” He pointed to the last of the five head shots. “This last man was interrogated briefly by Agent Romanoff before he was terminated.”

“So were they Hydra agents from the mountain base?” Steve asked, confusion clear on his face.

“Not exactly,” Fury said.

“He wasn’t Hydra,” Natasha said. “He said Hydra was a group run by hot-headed leaders with imperfect ideals. He said what they were was bigger and better than Hydra could ever hope to be.”

“And who are ‘they’?” Steve pressed.

Natasha shrugged. “He didn’t say, just that there were more of them and now that they had a ‘confirmation,’” she made quotes with her fingers, “they’d have all they needed soon enough to execute the program. He didn’t elaborate on what the program was or what exactly they’d confirmed. But before I could really press him for more, he killed himself. Cyanide tooth capsule.”

“Long story short, we’re led to believe these were not Hydra agents that tracked the two of you down. There were no markings on the body that would express allegiance to the group, nor did any declare their motto.”

“So what are you saying?” Sam questioned.

“I’m saying there is another organization who has at least one of the two of you as their target of interest and until we know who they are, you need to watch your backs.”

“No offense, sir,” one of the agents began. “But what would terrorist organization want with her?” She was pretty, blonde, and had an intense look about her. She wasn’t outright rude, she had a point at least; you’ve basically been in isolation for two years. Besides, she had to be more than capable to be in this room to begin with; that didn’t mean her comment didn’t irk you. You pushed down the urge to get defensive, and schooled your face into a neutral mask.

Simultaneously, all eyes were on you.

“At the moment we’re not quite sure,” Fury admitted. “Agent M’s official history within S.H.I.E.L.D. is otherwise non-existent as far as the database is concerned. However, that doesn’t mean no one would recognize her if they worked under S.H.I.E.L.D. before the disbanding.”

“You think this group is a bunch of ex-S.H.I.E.L.D., ex-Hydra rogue agents?” Steve interjected.

“Anything is possible,” Fury said. “For now, it’s best to assume Rogers was the target and Agent M was just an additional person of interest by proxy.”

“Keep your eyes and ears open for anything that could be related to this organization.” Maria advised. “If there really is another large-scale terrorist group among us, it’d be best to nip it in the bud as soon as possible.”

After the briefing, Fury held you back, as most of the others left the room. Maria relaxed by his side, her shoulders not quite as taut.

“You’re reinstated as an active agent, effective immediately, Agent M.” Fury held your gaze with his good eye.

“I never said I wanted to come back to S.H.I.E.L.D.. In fact, I distinctly remember telling you I never wanted to be put in that situation again.” You glared back. The fingers on your left hand dug into your palm.

“We all have to do things we don’t want to do.” His large hand cupped your shoulder. “Just because you run away from something, doesn’t mean it goes away. You are good at what you do, and I refuse to let you waste your skills anymore.”

“But I—” He cut you off.

“You’re not the only one who’s lost someone, Blue.”

He rarely called you by your nickname. It was always ‘Agent.’ You sighed. As difficult as Fury has always been, he’d never given you bad advice. He was the one who fought for you to stay and train to be a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent in the first place all those years ago.

And yeah, maybe he was a tad softer on you than on the others. You’d seen him as a father figure of sorts. If he thought you should be reinstated and otherwise get your head out of your ass, then you really couldn’t argue.

“Fine.”

“I knew you’d see it my way.” Fury smirked, patting your shoulder twice heading towards the door. “As soon as you’re cleared for it, you’ll start training. Rest up. This little incident tells me you’ve lost your touch.”

__________

You sat on a couch in the common room a week later, skimming through the data, searching for anything you could connect to an unknown terrorist group. Without a name, it was hard to even associate what little frays you did find, and you were led to dead end after dead end. You set the laptop on the seat beside you and pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes. You looked to your Stark-issued phone for the time. It was well past midnight. This wasn’t the first time you’d been unable to sleep this week due to your mind racing about the implications of an unknown group trying to bring devastation for whatever reason they’ve deemed justifiable. The bad feeling in your gut only intensified the more frustrated you got at the lack of information. You really wanted to punch something, but you weren’t cleared to do more than brisk walking, lest you pull a stitch and elongate your recovery period.

You went to the kitchen and poured yourself some water. The cool liquid did nothing to soothe your restlessness. So instead, you paced the halls, a habit you picked up since you arrived. You passed the entryway to the lab. More specifically, Tony and Bruce’s lab. The other common occurrence you’d noticed every night were the lights in the lab always being on this late in the night. It seemed like Bruce usually went to bed early in the evening, preferring to start his day earlier than most. Which left Tony as the only possible night owl.

You hesitated by the door before pulling it open and wandering through the cool-toned lights in the lab. Classic rock played softly through the speakers. Tony stood at table at the far end of the room, back hunched over. He was poking at something that caused small sparks to shoot from the device. His masked face was probably still too close to the object.

You pulled out a stool from a neighboring table smoothly, just enough to make some noise, not enough to startle him. The masked tilted up, then focused once again on the task at hand.

“Not asleep, Agent M?” He said with an ever-so-slight sneer.

“You can call me Blue, you know.” Tony hadn’t warmed up to you like you’d hoped in the past week. He’d been distant, always in the lab. Natasha assured you that was normal for him though, so you took her word for it.

“Do I know that?” He snipped. He worked in silence for a few moments, then he put down his tools and flipped up his mask. His eyes were rimmed in red, most likely from exhaustion. “You know, I just find it odd that everything was all fine and dandy until Rogers and Co took a trip to Washington State. Now there’s a new terrorist organization we have to look out for, and you show up with no official identity in any database on the planet, and one word from Fury and we’re supposed to just be okay with that? I’m not exactly a big believer of coincidences.”

“Just ask what you want to know, Stark. I don’t want to always feel like I’m tip-toeing around you.” Because it was annoying.

“What’s your history with S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“Natasha and Clint were on a mission, found me as a teen in an abandoned warehouse. Brought me back to S.H.I.E.L.D.. I was an agent for three years.”

“What made you leave?” His gaze shifted elsewhere.

“Bad mission. I lost people I cared about.” His eyes found yours. “And with Hydra discovered inside the agency and S.H.I.E.L.D. dissolving, I just got out while I could.”

He was quiet for a long time. Absently, you twirled a random screw between your fingers.

“Tell me about the mission.”

You squeezed your eyes closed, sighing deeply. You recalled your worst nightmare like it was yesterday. You opened your mouth to begin when he put a hand up.

“Sorry. You don’t need to tell me.” He waved you away. “I can be insensitive when I’m tired.”

“It’s alright, I understand. Long story short, it went really, really wrong, and I couldn’t handle it anymore. I was young-”

“You’re still young, kid,” he quipped.

“-and I already couldn’t remember my past. Losing people, people I was especially close to, was too much.” Your breath shuddered. “I didn’t want to have to go through that again, so I left. Fury kept tabs on me, same with Natasha and Clint. But I swore I wasn’t going to be an agent anymore.”

“And now, here you are.”

“Here I am.”

Tony nodded. He got up unexpectedly, shuffling over to a hidden cupboard that housed a coffee maker. He came back with two mugs, steam spirals swirled in the air. You took a sip. Minty.

“It’s a peppermint blend. Some candy cane Christmas bullshit I got in a ‘thank you’ basket over the holiday. It’s barely coffee, not even caffeinated, but it tastes nice. Supposed to help clear the mind or something.”

You shrugged. Because it was good.

“So… you don’t remember your past?”

“I don’t even remember my name.”

“That must be tough.”

“Mhm,” you agreed.

“Listen, I’m sorry for the rough start. Genuinely. I spend so much of my time trying to do the best to defend against the bad, that I sometimes jump to conclusions and can be…”

“Overly suspicious?” You supplied.

“Yeah.”

“No worries, Stark…”

“Tony.”

“Tony,” you smiled. “I would have thought the same thing. I mean hell, I almost embedded a knife in Captain America’s head when I first met him.”

“I want to do that sometimes and I’ve known him for years.” He chuckled into his mug.

“So we’re good?” You didn’t want to just assume. A heart to heart doesn’t always form a friendship, but at least maybe you’d be on good terms now.

“We’re good, kid.” He smiled, a genuine grin on his lips. “Come on, you can help me test this new version of my gauntlets.”

Huh. Maybe you were wrong. __________

Another week passed before you were cleared for active duty. The scarring was… definitely there. Harsh, red lines spider-webbed around your back. Apparently, it healed faster than Dr. Marks anticipated, especially without the cradle. She seemed convinced the shorter recovery time meant there was a high chance the scarring would fade quickly as well. You weren’t exactly a vain person, but it didn’t look pretty as of now. At least you could cover it up easily.

You were placed into a random group of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, Group C apparently, and were given a schedule that listed off times for hand-to-hand combat training, weight training, endurance training, and shooting practice. You were convinced Steve loved to see you and the other recruits suffer as he pushed you all to run the laps of the course around the compound. The first day, you were dead after three miles, collapsing on the ground when the muscles in your legs gave up and lying on gravel sounded like a better idea. Steve only ordered you to get up and run again. You might have grumbled something about seeing if you’d ever save his life again.

Now you were able to keep up with the group. You found it a necessity, as you’d overheard in the locker room how they didn’t like you because you were “definitely sleeping with the Captain” or why else would you be there. You’d caught a stink eye more than once, and decided you had to push harder and tune them out. The chatter was useless. You knew the truth, so their opinions didn’t matter, but you didn’t want Steve to be accused of favoritism. He didn’t deserve any unnecessary backlash.

By far, Natasha was thrilled to have you in training again.

“You’re having too much fun with this Natasha,” you groaned from the mat.

You were constantly being thrown by her, taunted that you’d lost your reflexes from being out of practice. You always ended up sore and bruised after a session. The snickers of the other agents really pissed you off, but you couldn’t exactly bite their heads off. Plus, even when you were in your best shape, you weren’t always able to out-Natasha Natasha; you’d only done it a few times. You knew first hand the rest of the agents in the room couldn’t do that. And you’d out-fought enough of them to know that.

“You’re making it easy on me,” she pulled you to your feet. “Maybe you should practice with someone with a little less agility for now?” She tilted her head to Sam, who’d over heard as he sauntered in and pulled a bitch face at her.

“Oh that’s low, girl. Real low.” But he joined you on the mat anyway.

Sam’s strikes were powerful and quick, like a boxer. He shuffled his feet, throwing punches at varying intervals. You dodged and blocked what you could. He got in a few hits before you picked up his pattern. That was the problem with most people in hand-to-hand. The body naturally wants to move in a rhythm, just like in running, but it’s too predictable in fighting, which is one of the reasons it was so hard to fight Natasha. She was slippery as a snake and it was hard to anticipate her next moves at the speed she moved.

You swung your arm out, your fist clipping him in his unprotected ribs, jumping out of range after. He stumbled back. You took the opportunity to rush him, diving low last minute to the space beneath his legs. You half-turned in your crouch and kicked your leg out, knocking him off balance and crashing into the mat. Finally.

“Adequate,” Natasha complimented. “But I’ve seen you do better. That was sloppy.”

You nodded, panting. She was right, but you’d take then win. It would take you a while to get back to what your skills had been, but even you had to admit. The ache of your abused muscles was actually rather nostalgic. __________

It was well after dinner when a knock at your door had you sitting up, causing the ice packs to tumble off your body. You sighed.

“Come in!”

Natasha stepped in, eyeing the ice packs.

“Have we been too rough on you?” She teased. You didn’t take the bait.

“Nah. Just not used to it yet.”

Natasha nodded. “Just wanted to let you know Clint and the others are almost here. The quinjet should be landing in five, if you want to join us.”

“Of course.” You stumbled off the bed, and slipped your shoes on as you followed her to the hangar.

The hangar was cleaner than you would have thought. Relatively spotless and spacious. You and Natasha joined Steve, Sam, and Vision by the marker number 1 just as the rumble of an engine made the quinjet known. The noise echoed loudly in the space as the jet landed smoothly in its spot. The engines cut off, and with the high-pitched whir of the propellers winding down. The door opened down into a ramp. At first, no one came down, then there was a stumbling, mummy racing down the ramp toward you. Clint scooped you up into his arms, twirling you around, rambling a mile a minute.

“I thought Tasha was messing with me when she said you were here!” He was shouting in your ear, but you couldn’t get a word in edgewise. “When did you get here? How long are you staying? Wait! Are you back for real?”

“Barton, I’m pretty sure she can’t breathe.” Natasha’s voice cut through his excitement.

“Oh, right.” He plopped you down. You staggered before you caught yourself.

“It’s good to see you too, Robin Hood.”

His eyes flitted over you, not overlooking the bruises from training this week.

“Geeze, you look awful. What happened?”

“What is with the two of you?” You looked between him and Natasha. “You can’t just tell people they look awful when they’ve been beaten up. Besides, you’re one to talk,” you sassed. Clint was covered in butterfly bandages and deep purple bruises. “Can’t you go on one mission without coming back like you belong under a pyramid?”

“‘S not my fault.” Clint scratched the back of his neck. You stared at him pointedly. “Well, not all my fault.”

“Some things never change.” You grinned.

“Blue, this is Wanda Maximoff.” Natasha held her hand out to a girl around your age, with long auburn hair and sparkling green eyes. She looked at you hesitantly.

“Hi, I’m Blue.” You did a little wave, then immediately regretted it for how dumb you probably looked.

“It’s nice to meet you.” She enveloped you in strong arms. She had an accent you couldn’t place, but it wasn’t so thick you couldn’t understand her. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you from Natasha and Clint. It’s nice to match the face with the name.”

You smiled, because she seemed very sweet. You could already see yourself being friends with her. You noticed Vision hovering just behind her, and when she pulled away, her hand reached back to find his. That was cute. You also now had questions, but that was for another time. You certainly weren’t close enough to just ask anyway.

Behind you, Steve was embracing a man with shoulder-length brown hair. He looked just as built and strong as Steve, maybe an inch shorter in height. Steve’s eyes were closed, his lips were moving, speaking too low for you to hear. The intimacy of their moment had you assuming they were more than friends. Definitely together. You wondered if the public had that knowledge, but it was more than likely not. The media would probably have a field day with that info.

Steve opened his eyes, meeting yours with a smile before he stepped back and called out to you.

“Hey Blue! Come over here and meet Bucky!”

His companion turned around and the breath caught in your throat. You did a double take. After all these years, you never thought you’d see him again. Maybe you’d dreamed you’d find your long lost friend, hoping that you both hadn’t changed too much to pass each other on the street someday without realizing. But you would recognize those eyes anywhere.

Before you could open your mouth, he spoke.

“Ingeras?” _________

A/N: Just now realized I haven’t given any translations for words so far, but I will from now on!

zvezdochka (Russian) - little star sestrenka (Russian) - sister, sis ingeras (Romanian) - angel

_________

In Viata Asta Taglist: @rvgrsbrns @artsyspacebee @thelovelydreamer17

#Stucky x reader #Steve Rogers x reader #Bucky Barnes x reader #Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes #marvel fanfiction #In Viata Asta

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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924

Do you have a taste in your mouth right now? What of? Just the faint taste of coffee since I have a cup at the moment but haven’t drunk from it in the last few minutes. Which is your least favourite day of the week? I’ve lost the concept of the days of the week for a few months now, man. Back when we used to do things, though, I hated Sundays as I felt loneliest on that day. It was always an automatic thing too so I had little control over it. If told to clean the house, would you be more inclined to clean one room really well or clean all of the rooms with hardly any effort? Clean all rooms with maximum effort. I’d be really bugged if I didn’t strive to be perfect with the whole place lol. Do you put glue on the object you're sticking down or on the paper? Object, so that the amount of glue I’m putting would be accurate. What was your last dream about? I don’t remember the details anymore but at the very least, I know it was very vivid since I remembered it throughout the morning. I’ve been having very detailed dreams lately – it’s the depression for sure.

What is your favourite part of the last movie you watched? Haven’t seen a movie in a while but the last thing I watched in full was The Crown; Vanessa Kirby as Princess Margaret really shone through in the last episode I saw. Have you stuck any stickers to the computer you're using? I put all my stickers onto my laptop case but not the laptop itself. I haven’t had the case on for a while now though, since I’m always just at home now. Do you ever write or talk to yourself in your head when you're bored? Yes or when I’m feeling upset, as long as I’m alone. I’ve found that talking to myself is a healthy way to address and deal with my emotions. What interests you the most about other people? What I find interesting always varies. I have friends who I find interesting for their music tastes; some others for their knowledge of random trivia; some for their jobs, etc. It’s always different. Do you ever take random pictures out of boredom? What of? Not really. If I take photos it’s because I want to remember a moment or because I find something cute or funny. Basically anything that elicits a strong emotion out of me, I’m bound to take a picture of. Do you prefer listening to things through headphones or speakers? Headphones. How many siblings do you have? Do you get on with them? I have two siblings. I only get along with my sister; I have not talked to my brother since last year and have no desire to again. Would you rather live in a log cabin or a brick house? Mmm I’d take the brick house. Log cabin would be nice for a quick getaway, but I wouldn’t want it to be my permanent home. There’s a psychological factor in there and I just think that staying in a log cabin would make me feel suffocated eventually, haha. Do you have a calendar up for this year? I have a ‘Job Applications’ calendar that I’m currently monitoring, and it tracks the applications I’ve sent out to different companies and how long I’ve been waiting for a response from each of them. Really needing some positive vibes and energy since I actually just got my first rejection notice today. Other than that this year has been pretty fucking boring and there’s been little need to keep an active calendar. What was the very first CD you bought? The first CD I remember asking my parents to buy for me was like the High School Musical official soundtrack. I was big on Disney as a kid and wasn’t a big fan of any solo acts or bands up until I was around 10. Do you keep things like old train tickets, etc? Yessssssss. Do you like your smile? Why (not)? I like it; I find my smile friendly and warm. I just hate smiling with my teeth at the present since one of my front teeth protrudes. Can’t wait to get braces again. Would you rather be able to sing or dance? Why? Dance. Dancers are super hot, lmao. What was your favourite colour when you were a kid? Do you still like it? It was purple/violet and it was mostly influenced by my great-grandma who lovedddd the color and had it everywhere in her home. When she passed away, my love for the color slowly faded away and I don’t think too much of it now. Have you ever said 'lol' in real life? Haha yeah sometimes. I pronounce it as ‘lohl’ and never ‘el oh el’ though. Do you like your friend's parents? I like most of their parents, though I’m aware that some have abusive tendencies. Most of the parents are super nice, though. JM’s mom cooked a big lunch for us once and his dad buys like four party-sized boxes of pizza every time we come over, Angela’s parents treat me like their own kid, Gab’s mom constantly tells me she loves me...it’s in the little things. How many times have you moved? I can remember just the two times, but I know that we moved several times more when I was an infant. Have you ever refused to try a certain food? Which? Most stuff with fruits, hah. Sometimes it’s unavoidable, like when a sushi roll has mango or if I’m having banoffee pie, but I almost always refuse a meal with some kind of fruit in it. What's your favourite type of soup? Not really big on soup. I just like miso. Very occasionally I’ll have mushroom soup too. What is your favourite candle scent? I don’t buy candles nor do I know people who regularly get them, so I’m not very familiar with the different scents. Does the sight of blood make you feel ill? In real life, it would. I always have to look away whenever Gabie gets a nosebleed ha. But I have no problem watching bloody wrestling matches and I actually enjoy the bloodier ones. Super weird quirk of mine. What do you call it when you're sick anyways? (Sick, ill, not well, etc) If I’m referring to a fever I call it sick/ill/not feeling well. If I feel like throwing up I say I’m getting dizzy/need to vomit. I’ve never referred to puking as ‘getting sick,’ and it took me a very long time to realize that it was a common American saying, haha. Did you ever really believe in the tooth fairy? I did, and I felt super betrayed when I put my tooth under my pillow only to see it again the next morning. If you had to appear in a movie, which genre would you choose? Coming of age. What do you do with unwanted gifts? I keep them, since I still appreciate the effort of the gift-giver. Are there any clothes you haven't worn in ages, that you've suddenly started wearing again? HAHA yes. There will be rare instances where I get to go out and I always take the time to look stylish as all fuck, even though I’m only running an errand and wearing flashier pieces would be so unnecessary. I just miss dressing up and looking cute, man. Do any keys on your keyboard stick? Like, if they’re sticky? No. Would you rather own a laptop or a computer? Laptop. Love it when things are portable. Do you think you'll look at old photos of yourself and be embarrassed? My teenage years are definitely bad especially with regard to my fashion choices lol, but so are everyone else’s so I’m not super embarrassed. I cringe at the photos but I wouldn’t mind if my friends poked fun at them because chances are I’d join in too. What was the worst hairstyle you ever had? I always hated it whenever my mom took me to the salon to have my hair rebonded. That kind of look has never worked with my face shape and so I usually did everything for my hair to start curling up quicker and go back to its original form. Do you like t-shirts with sayings on them? Why (not)? Not really. It’s just not a personal preference. I like plain or slightly printed pieces. Do you click on the adverts at the side of the screen? No. Have you ever coughed and sneezed at the same time? I’m sure it’s happened before. Are you embarrassed to show people your ID photo? Nah. Whatever dude. Have / would you ever become a cheerleader? I haven’t, but I would have loved to. We don’t have a cheerleading club or varsity in my old school though so I was never able to hone my skills, if ever. What's the longest you've gone without eating? Maybe a little more than 24 hours. What is one of your biggest irrational fears? Commercials airing at night. I find jingles and graphic effects unsettling by a certain hour lol. What comes up when you press Ctrl + V? “I reeeeally miss seeing you and your purple things and seeing you give glares to people who deserve it. what a lodi <333” omg aw. It’s Jane’s birthday today and I copied that bit of my greeting to move it to another paragraph so that my message would flow better. Out of the bands you listen to, were most of them around before or after you were born? After. When did you last jump out of fright? I don’t remember. Are you currently waiting on something? What? For a company to take me in. Does time pass slowly or quickly when you're on the internet? Usually it’s quickly, but now that I feel more and more useless around the house, time’s been more slow and for the first time the distractions of the internet haven’t been working. What about when you're at school / work? Depended on the amount of stuff I had to do and whether I’m enthusiastic about them or not. Does the thought of being pregnant gross you out? The thought of giving birth does, but not pregnancy. What was the last thing you made with your hands? I mean I made myself a cup of coffee tonight, but the coffee mix itself was already pre-packaged. I just mixed it with hot water. Are you good at making shadow puppets? I’d say no. Are you more hungry or thirsty right now? Neither. I’ve been so anxious and depressed these days I’m actually skipping every single meal except dinner, and even then I eat very little. I don’t even do it on purpose; my anxiety has simply stopped me from feeling hungry. No idea what the weighing scale’s gonna tell me the next time I check, sigh. Someone hire me plz. God it really sucks being a fresh grad in this current state of the world. Are you prone to headaches? No. They only come out during hectic schedules and stressful weeks. Do you forget things easily? The little and everyday things, like forgetting my school ID at home or where I placed my keys. But I don’t forget things that are more bigger-picture, like birthdays or faces or memories. Do you enjoy going out to dinner? I enjoy it and I terribly miss being able to do it. Would you ever go on a cruise ship holiday? I would and I have. Lots of fun. Would do again and again. What's your favourite sea animal? Dolphins and whales. Do you get coughs or colds more? Coughs.

#survey #surveys

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thesalemsaga · 4 years

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𝟲 — 𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗶𝗱 𝗯𝗮𝘆

— 𝙨𝙞𝙭𝙩𝙝 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙢 𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙖.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 : 6.4k words

𝙨 : they’ve left the walls, and now it seems like they’re unstoppable. however, having to make a short stop, they soon uncover the savagery that has taken hold of the world, putting their training to the test.

“ doesn’t your eye-sight hurt? ”.

alexander peered up once seren’s voice caught his ears.

she had been sitting at his side for a good hour, glancing over his shoulder whilst his index finger trailed beneath the lines consisting of runes and symbols that she had never dreamt of seeing before. for the first time she took knowledge over how his fingers were tainted with ink, red from hours of writing, pouring every last pint of energy he had into his studies.

seren had seen copious books thrown in front of her when exam season hit the calendar, but nothing could compare to what this boy probably had to sit through to be a qualified cleric. she took to admire alexander for how he persevered, it didn’t seem like it was labor for him, he must enjoy it to some degree. even now, when he could be talking to the others, growing closer to them, strengthening bonds, he continues reading as if to never give himself a break from the school they probably wouldn’t see for a while.

yet, the more she thought about it, the clearer it became. maybe it was for the very reason that they would not face their school for some months that he clung to the only thing that might bring a sense of normalcy. school is hell, albeit the only thing they’ve ever known within the walls. it kept them grounded, centered on something. even seren, an avid daydreamer, allowed herself to be consumed by her studies and let it became the center of her life.

now she realizes that she has to distance herself from the only life she’s ever known and replace it for one she could not control, where the laws didn’t bend at her will, because nature kneels to no one.

alexander was wise, though, to keep something to occupy his mind. who knows how long it’ll be before they start to lose their ways and begin to cave into the reality of the world outside?

“ m-my father got me these at the start of the year after . . . some glasses that made my eye-sight worse. these ones have steadily improved it, though ”, he replied after a moment, immediately drawing his attention once more to the book he grasped within his hands.

seren hummed, swinging her feet slightly. “ is your hair also always like that? ”, she questioned. she found herself in a very questioning mood that day, maybe it was an attempt to distract herself from the utter boredom she might face during this flight to egypt.

“ like what? ”.

“ that bowel-shape cut. ”

his face suddenly incredibly pink, red rising to the tip of his ears. seren’s eyes widened for a moment with slight realization, “ w-well, you get what i mean. always the same style, quite conservative. do you ever switch it up? ”.

“ how? i find it unnecessary. and a waste of time, if you ask me. ”

chuckling, the girl rested her back against her seat and ran her fingers through her own hair, “ not exactly. i find that boys switch up their hairstyles more than girls on some occasions. have you seen percy? one day he has a perm, the next he’s wearing a beret. ” it was super cute.

alexander appeared timid all of a sudden. “ well i’m not percy, seren. i find that i quite like my look. sure, the glasses can be fussy and the hair is hard to cope with in the morning, but it’s my signature look. like your hair bow ”.

seren defensively grasped her ointment, “ i have my bow but i still style my hair differently on occasions. i customize it, explore my way of dressing. it’s actually a great way to learn to appreciate your looks, looking at yourself in different ways. ”

alexander seemed unwilling to counter, attention on the book once more. taking a deep inhale, the girl smiled and reached over. he had a signature look himself, that face. his entire face was a signature because his features were so firm and bold and beautiful, it would still be him even if he chose to wear something different or styled his hair.

she found herself removing his glasses, ignoring the fuss he appeared ready to put on, and messed up his hair, bringing the locks hiding his forehead and pushing them back. thankfully, they fell right into place. capturing a glance at him, seren felt like she was looking at a different person, she smiled to herself, content with the transformation that had occurred under her doing.

“ w-what? ”.

seren shook her head slightly, “ you look good. you look even better, actually. people never realize how beautiful they are when others are looking at them. you still look like you, in case you’re wondering. but just without the glasses. stop squinting~ ”.

“ s-sorry ”, letting out a small laugh, alexander raked a hand through his locks and seren was barely able to contain her excitement, he seemed to be liking it! “ i just really can’t see without my glasses. contact lenses are hard to wear, as well, i tear up and people think i’m constantly upset. ”

seren peered at the frames in her hands and hummed, “ can’t you enchant yourself to fix your own eye sight? or are long-term conditions out of question? i hear only a witch doctor can do that. ”

“ percy could. he’s a mage. the magic i access is limited only to healing and enchanting things that might bring people at death’s door. a stab wound, i can deal with. a cancer or a chronic illness, i’m afraid i can’t deal with that. believe me, i’ve tried ”, he countered, flipping aimlessly through his pages. seren’s eyes suddenly frowned. “ i would ask percy but . . . it’s too much to ask. it would demand a crazy amount of mana. ”

seren held her breath.

she’d witnessed it herself, the moment percy went pale the night before and for just a split second, it felt like he went totally limp before managing to catch himself. mana was the fuel source for anyone dealing with magic, and if you drain it, it eats your energy away in chunks if you use your magic excessively and recklessly.

alexander pushed on, “ besides, he could end up panicking and blinding me for life. i know he feels slightly reluctant when dealing with his magic. he hesitates all the time in magical art lessons. it’s like he’s scared of what he’s capable of. ”

“ well isn’t everyone? having that much power should scare anyone ”, seren shook her head, staring at her feet. “ magic is serious business, that’s why i felt lucky to not have inherited it. because as a swordsman, i have control of who my target is. as a mage, i might end up burning a whole village to kill just one man. ”

the aircraft suddenly shifted, and the girl caught herself in case she went overboard. it wasn’t turbulence, it seemed like they were going to start to make a descent into the territory they’d dreamed of stepping into. she stood up, clinging to the security railings on the roof and walls. “ what’s happening? ”, she called.

perseus peeked his head out of the cabin door with his cheeky, boxy grin. “ we’re about to land! ”, he replied over the sound of the engine roaring, but as they neared their descent, all that she could hear was the whistle of the wind. beyond the windows, she saw red. well, red soil.

the landscape in which they’d landed resembled a savanna region which you wouldn’t have expected to find in egypt a long time ago. the dirt paths were overtaken by spreading grass, tall acacia trees scattered around but not close enough to resemble a full forest. no animals in sight, as expected. and if there were, they probably fled when they heard the aircraft landing.

landing in a desolate terrain that a human being has probably not stepped into yet was a thrilling idea, albeit terrifying. because if there weren’t humans roaming then there had to be something else, lurking, aware that something strange and out of their world had just touched down on their soil.

it felt forbidden, like they shouldn’t be here.

“ are we in the sinai peninsula? ”, seren quizzed.

at the shake of kailen’s head, she was growing confused. “ i made an emergency landing because i need to figure this compass out. if i try to do it on hair it’s just going to waste fuel. we might as well pause here until i get this thing working. ”

“ well, what do we do in the meantime? ”.

“ explore for a bit, i suppose. ”

romeo was the first one out once the hatchet opened. seren stepped out and landed on the grass with her two feet. the sensation was albeit the same but knowing that they were no longer caged within stone walls and now roamed the wild, it was no wonder her heart felt heavier, blood pumping with excitement.

what she did notice was how unbearably hot it was, the sun smiling down at them, toasting the girl beneath her dense military clothes. they only weighed her down, and if she was going to traverse through desserts and dry lands, there was no point wearing it.

after ripping her jacket off, she felt a massive improvement, loosening one button of her white shirt and slipping her gloves off. “ s-seren, what are you doing? ”, she heard perseus stammer behind her. she blinked at him cluelessly.

“ i’m burning hot. besides, these things are only going to slow us down. we’re not representing valhalla out here, we’re by ourselves. ”

pacing forward, she began to investigate her surroundings with a little more liberty. time was of the essence, but they were not expecting to reach salem within a week, that was very unlikely. so whilst tying her hair back with her ribbon, she took to admiring the trees, the landscape, the mountains in the distance.

“ from what i heard ”, alexander began suddenly, crouching down to take a sip of his water. “ the peninsula became densely populated with trees. it used to be more of a dessert, mountain range. now it’s practically a rain forest. most of the middle east is a rain forest. ”

which would mean that there would be less dessert to traverse, which the girl was thankful for. she’d heard rumors that during the apocalypse period, the world underwent a series of freezes that meant temperatures drastically cooled down and even countries that used to be in the line of the equator became sudden areas stained with trees and wildlife. egypt was one of them.

and with cooler temperatures, trees and humidity, the wildlife can be, well, wild. the girl realized that after spotting something on the dry dirt just after a patch of grass. something that seemed to resemble footprints, huge ones.

whoever they belonged to, the creature had hands resembling a human being if it wasn’t so thin and so lanky, and she was certain she had just come across claw marks embedded into one of the nearby acacias. crouching, the girl ran her fingertips over the prints and hummed.

“ you okay? ”, romeo asked.

she motioned him over and pointed to the foot prints, measuring at least at three metres in length. “ what kind of animal would you find in the middle of these plains who could have such a claw? ”, she questioned.

“ dragons, or some sort of lizard-resembling creature ”, the gunner replied, grazing his fingers over the marked dirt. “ these aren’t new footprints, though, they have most likely been here for at least three or four days. they’ve not faded yet because of the lack of wind. ”

seren frowned, looking off at the set of mountains in the distance. casting her memory back to when she met alexander in the library, she had pulled out a book on the creature at hand. it spoke of the domains dragons took to, and long mountain ranges were some of them.

hopefully we’ll be out of here before such dragon can spot us, she prayed.

“ hey, i think i found a lake or pond! ”.

they immediately stood and walked on over to where evangelos stood and pointed. there was certainly a body of water, a stream of some sort that most definitely belonged to a greater source, perhaps something verging off of the nile river. “ it’s pretty cool, i’d suggest maybe getting clean water or cooling down before we head back ”, perseus called.

seren did just that, crouching over the edge and taking the water in her hands, holding it to her nose. no funny odor, and based off of how evangelos was drinking, it had no funny taste either. and it wasn’t pristine, yet she could at least see the bottom of the pond.

she refilled her water bottle and set it to be cooled, and then splashed her face a couple of times and instantly felt better, headache simmering down with each passing second until it stopped. “ you’d never would have thought the world would be peaceful like this after stepping outside ”, romeo began, grinning to himself.

“ this won’t account for the rest of the world. for all we know, the rest could be filled with monsters of all sorts trying to kill us. but it’s nice that there’s a safe haven here, minus the dragon footprints ”, evangelos ran a hand through his now damp hair. “ i asked kailen. we’re apparently very close to cairo. we might even be able to see the pyramids if we fly low enough. ”

“ seriously? ”, seren gasped and beamed. “ that’d be so great! but . . . we’d be best off staying on higher ground to avoid being spotted or alarming anyone we don’t want knowing we’re here. ”

it was unknown just how for salem’s hand stretched. eastern europe was occupied completely by her henchmen and it was why they advanced so easily down into the balkan countries. the empire military was being forced back into greece as their defenses fell, their greatest fear being that salem would find crete soon enough, and the last set of human beings would be crushed under her wrath.

earth would have to start again, smaller, weaker, with no means of fixing what they had since it was going to be stripped from them anyway. seren’s blood boiled, it came to a point where she was done questioning the morale of a person like salem, of why people go to these lengths to pursue things for their own benefit. evil people just exist, they don’t need a reason.

she would be damned if she let the woman get close to her home. having been spotted in russia already probably had her hiding out in fear, but fear brings panic, and in the midst of panic, she might do something catastrophic and seren promised her father the woman would be dead before such thing could happen.

“ do you think . . . there are human beings outside of the walls? ”.

seren turned to perseus and rose a brow, “ separate populations? ”.

the boy nodded. “ yeah. people who weren’t given a chance of treading into the walls like everyone else, people who isolated themselves. people who saw the wild as their home and never thought to abandon it. different languages, a different culture. i think it’d be nice if we came across something like that ”, he suddenly chuckled. “ though, let’s hope they’re not aggressive. ”

“ for all we know, they could also believe they’re the last people on earth. we’d surely give them quite a scare, being armed to the brim ”, evangelos stated, tilting his head. “ human beings can be sympathetic despite their differences. i don’t think we’re going to get killed at the hands of people like that, though. that’d be a waste. ”

it was never said whether there were humans beyond the walls. seren knew the government worked hard to expand the walls at the same pace that the population grew, allowing people to situate their homes in zones they deemed ‘safe.’ never was it said that they made contact with other people, and if they did, they kept it as a very, very good secret.

they suddenly jumped at an echoing sound and threw their gazes over their shoulders to find kailen at the open hatchet, waving them over with a grin. “ i’ve fixed it! ”.

romeo grumbled, “ about time. ”

once inside the ship, seren found alexander tapping away at some control buttons on the board, the compass glowing green and seemingly working pretty well. kailen had pulled out a map of the old world, and he prayed that the land structure hadn’t changed exactly.

“ it seems like we’re going in a more north east direction. as soon as we get into sinai, we’ll start treading through the middle east, and even more east just to avoid the baltics. from what i heard, salem doesn’t have much control over china and mongolia. so we have to enter through there ”, kailen spoke whilst running a red pen, tracing through path and drawing what seemed to be a border around the baltics. it was a good tactic, avoiding where the enemy’s front line was. he looked back at seren who stood just behind him. “ what do you think? ”.

the girl shook her head, “ it’s perfect. what we have to be mindful of is not disturbing any of her minions in the area, but we can worry about that later. how much fuel are we on? ”.

kailen winced, lowering his head. “ three hours, at least. t-though, i hear there is a place where we might find some . . . ”.

time skip . . .

the flight wasn’t too long, but it was long enough for the girl to catch another nap. the seats were incredibly uncomfortable, the components of the seat belt digging into her torso and waking her up when the airship would shift at times. the feeling only relieved when she had an idea.

evangelos had been sitting beside her quietly, doing what appeared to be doodling on his phone. valhalla students were given school phones that aimed mostly at giving them a better experience in their classes, and they had longer lasting batteries, which is why evangelos seemingly whipped it out. some adjustments made by alexander meant that the school could not trace them.

the seat beside the male was free, and the seat belt component was lowered which meant that what she had in mind could work, it was just a matter of whether evangelos would be comfortable. seren bit her lip and sat down beside him regardless, he lifted his gaze and glanced at her. “ what’s up? ”.

she didn’t say a word, resting her head against his shoulder and finding herself feeling way more comfortable as opposed to before, smiling softly to herself. evangelos merely held his breath, but made no attempt at moving or pushing her away. you’d think she would be more cautious around him of all people.

in reality, she would have felt awful for avoiding him because of that dueling incident. her arms were still recovering, albeit slowly. and the burn marks became heavily obvious in the daylight, hence her attempts at hiding them as best as she could.

and she probably to avoid making evangelos feel bad.

“ comfortable? ”.

the girl nodded, crossing her arms over her chest and pursing her lips slightly. she was bothered by the marks she saw on the dirt road despite romeo’s reassurance. in all honesty, she was far more concerned with the idea of there being a dragon roaming the heavens than getting to salem.

kailen had stated there was a nearby bay area on the coast of northern sinai where human dealings had stained. some sort of power plant from a long time ago had exploded, leading to the area becoming unstable and too toxic to support human life. after many, many years, it looked as if the toxicity levels were low enough for the fuel to be deemed safe enough to power the airship’s engine.

what didn’t bide well with the girl was the lack of a hostile presence ever since their journey began. they had not encountered one enemy aside from clues pointing to a dragon terrorizing the nearby area, but to come face to face with an abnormal creature was still on their to-do list. it was silent, peaceful, nothing she was complaining about but it drained the thrill from the situation and made it feel as if they were sneaking out to a party rather than, you know, saving the world.

that would only mean that whatever they encountered soon was going to shake her to her core. hence why apprehension to easing down and resting too much, but she found evangelos’s shoulder to be comfortable. his presence radiated that of protection aside from intimidation. and he was warm.

seriously warm.

“ did it hurt? ”.

“ hm? ”.

his fingers grazed gently over the surface of her arms. his touch was delicate, not an ounce of mal intention with it. it was perhaps the most docile thing she had seen from evangelos from the moment she met him. her thoughts drifted once more to the duel, to the internal shock she experienced after that impact, the agony that came from the burns, the way her bones rattled in fear when she realized her weakness.

“ well, of course it hurt. but does it still hurt? ”, he sounded concerned, and a part of her ached on his behalf. to have everyone glance at you as if you’re some sort of monster when your anger builds and you act upon it must be something nobody wants to necessarily deal with. she hurt for him. and she didn’t see a reason for holding a grudge against an injury that will heal. sure, the marks will always be there. but they will never be a reminder that evangelos was a violent person. ever.

seren glanced at his hand and chuckled, patting it gently. “ it did. but what hurts me most is that you’re still hanging on. it’s healing, as most injuries do. i just want you not to worry about it when there are other things we have to heal ”, she said.

and that was not her attempt at shutting down the conversation, it was simply a way to reassure evangelos in case his thoughts were scrambled, in case he somehow considered himself as the monster people painted him as.

“ like . . . the wounds of people who might have been denied a home within the walls. the wounds of people who never got a chance to be saved. if they’re out there, then we have to help them heal. isn’t that what heroes are supposed to do? ”.

evangelos started, “ y-yeah, but . . . ”.

“ my wounds will heal. memories stay but it’s how you remember them that counts. i don’t remember it as an attack. i remember it as a mistake. and we all learn from them. ”

it was clear she wanted to say more to nurse the situation, to put his mind at rest but she was cut off when the engine began to roar a little louder. upon listening out, it became apparent it was not the engine. but rather, waves crashing against each other. an ocean. a beach.

when the ship landed and the hatchet opened once again, seren felt a chill crawl down her spine when the pristine blue sky she had seen previously turned bleak, grey. lifeless. something you’d expect to see on a cold island in northern europe, not in a tropical region blessed with greenery and life.

upon stepping out, it felt like entering another planet.

craters of sharp rocks and dips made the landscape, the waves thrashing roughly against the shores. it was violent, turbulent, as if a storm slowly crept above them. it was a phantom menace, one that would bare its fangs and strike the rocks with pummeling strength. it took her a couple of steps back suddenly to avoid getting hit by a wave. when her back hit kailen’s chest, she let out a minor squeak.

but he applied a firm hand to her shoulder and nodded to the others, “ alright, there has got to be an oil source nearby. the toxicity will not kill you since it’s harmless at this point. but still be careful. fill the tanks as best as you can. if there’s any sign of movement, don’t wait. just act. ”

the tanks he mentioned weren’t large but it was enough for each member to carry one individually. kailen had suggested that he stayed in the ship whilst they went off to get the oil before quickly returning.

but seren was apprehensive to leave him alone. “ are you sure you don’t want someone to stay behind? ”, she quizzed as they prepared to leave. “ you know we can’t exactly communicate without alerting the academy of where we are, what if something happens to you? ”.

kailen gave her his usual comforting smile, one which causes every suspicion or worry to practically vanish. but it didn’t work this time around on seren. “ i’ll be okay. you just hurry back. it’d be nice to get going before night fall. ”

there was no use convincing him, of course.

seren hurried just like everyone else. it was in their best interest to hurry in order to avoid enemies, but her worry remained grounded on kailen who had stayed in the ship. and although he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, he might not be able to resist a mob of enemies, in whatever form they manifest themselves in. dragons, goblins, maybe even the very henchmen from last night.

“ kailen can handle himself, seren ”, romeo briskly reminded her with a quick pat on the back before hurrying her along. “ he’s an archer, sure. but his semblance won’t fail him in an attack if he gets swarmed. trust me, he will be okay. ”

seren chuckled, “ it’s a habit of mine to worry. i was even concerned when he was with alex fixing the compass. i suppose i feel anxious when we’re not in a group, if you can understand that. ”

romeo hummed, and swung the tank in his arm in a childish fashion that incited a grin from the girl. even if they were escaping mortal danger and running towards the enemy, he still acted as if it was a walk in the park. “ i don’t. but i reckon it’s due to the fact that i know their skills. and i know how strong they are individually. don’t worry, you’ll only exhaust yourself if you keep panicking during the journey. ”

to a great extent, she agreed. but this was also a habit that she has had from a young age, like her habit of taking the blame when it wasn’t hers to claim. unhealthy habits, as one might call it. it was going to take her a lot more time to grow distant from that constant worry. it wasn’t as if she was doubting their skills, they were in higher ranks than her and had stellar combat performances. yet . . .

a whistle from alexander caused her attention to shift. it seemed as if he had found something worth checking, so they hurried over.

what they stumbled across was a bunch of iron barrels with some sort of symbol on them. not the danger symbol, not the flammability symbol, but something else, a mark of manufacture. it was long faded, something that belonged to the old world yet it still sent shivers down her spine. part of the past stood in front of them.

perhaps the most bizarre detail to the scene were the skulls.

skulls.

ribs, skulls, arms and feet. as if a graveyard had surfaced from the soil, the barrels might have been a metaphor for a gold mine but the apparent human remains was what stunned seren the most. and even as the boys moved to fill the tanks, she remained with her feet nailed to the ground, her concern growing tenfold.

there was no use asking for what they believed happened here when it was somewhat clear. it had been a previous power plant, as kailen stated, and after an accident, nobody ever came to look at what remained of the location. craters of oil remained, yet what appeared to be the bodies of the workers also stayed. it was a disturbing sight of which she thought she’d only see in movies.

her steps brought her beside perseus who was studying one of the skulls closely, gloves slipped on and eyes narrowing in thought. “ notice how there is what appears to be bite or scratch marks near the top. that wouldn’t happen if it was a power plant accident, except if they were making monsters instead of oil, which i doubt ”, he stated, looking up at her. “ what do you think? ”.

seren brought her eyes towards the ocean, angry, thrashing, crashing, battling for what seemed to be a victim to pull into its grasps and yank it back into unknown depths.

“ i believe . . . it could have been a monster of some sort. maybe some animals that moved to the area and thought it would be nice to feast on the remains but the toxicity should have killed them and there are no animal bones . . . ”, she spoke, looking around. “ my bet is that it’s a monster. ”

evangelos suddenly grunted as he filled up the tank and screwed the lid shut. “ if there were monsters, they might have showed up by now. those marks look new, if we had the equipment we might have been able to locate the origin. but if it’s monsters, i suggest we hurry up ”.

but what kind of monster would attempt to dig their fangs into a human skull and then leave it aside. it would be normal if the flesh of the bodies had rotted and joined the soil beneath their feet, yet seren was uneasy. it felt too good to be true that this bay, dark and grey, was radio silent aside from the waves crashing ahead of them.

it was a horrible sensation, ignoring that worry gnawing at the back of her mind and then proceeding to fill up her tank with as much fuel as it could carry. she strained to lift it from the ground after screwing the cap shut but she heaved it up and sighed, following romeo who offered the way back to the ship.

with fuel in hand, they will be able to travel a longer distance before sundown and probably find themselves within the rain forest quickly. it would mean that they will be exposed to new danger but it would keep them hidden from any eyes from above trying to track them down.

“ where’s the ship? ”.

huh?

surely enough, when seren glanced up from the ground, her hand suddenly trembled and the tank met the floor within seconds as the ship had vanished. gone, as if it had never been there to begin with.

her first reaction was to believe that kailen might have left them. but if it had been the case, they would have heard the airship taking off and would have come running back long before their current return.

when they heard kailen’s scream, though, they all acted.

romeo suddenly bolted towards the edge of the rocks where he soon spotted the airship being dragged down the rocks, constantly being engulfed by violent waves that they couldn’t stick too close to. what was dragging the ship into the ocean?

seren’s worst nightmare.

mermaids, in mythology, are often depicted as beautiful creatures. alluring, tropical, ethereal. with perfect teeth and hair and stunning voices that will drive a sailor mad, inviting you in with docile smiles and large, curious eyes.

the mermaids that were dragging the ship into the ocean were far from it.

they were scathing around like wild animals, screeching and screaming loudly. there were dozens of them, seren was driven dizzy by the waving tails and the blunt force they used to drag the ship, pushing and pulling and screaming repeatedly and it felt like her ears were going to start bleeding soon, yet she gasped and reached for iron thorn the moment romeo fired a shot from his weapon.

“ kailen’s there! don’t let them get away! ”.

the ship was probably long gone, half submerged under water with kailen in the hatchet, motionless. seren’s food rose to her stomach in heaps yet she managed to fire some essences of ice from her blade, and it reached at least five mermaids, enveloping their tails and pulling them down into the rocks, keeping them from grasping at kailen.

but that still left at least twenty of them that evangelos and perseus were trying their best to blow away with the shots they could fire. evangelos was re-loading consistently, looking fed up by the second and perseus struggled on remaining on his feet. “ kailen! kailen, come on, man! kailen! ”, alexander yelled over the edge, flinching back when a mermaid jumped from a wave and tried to claw at his face. it was only then when seren realized that their nails were razor sharp.

with each stroke of ice and fire, the mermaids seemed to scream their way into the waves but when they began to drag kailen, alexander finally jumped into action and motioned with his hands. when the faint glow swarmed kailen’s body, the mermaid pulling him down shrieked and clawed at him. when alexander began to lift kailen’s body, seren was hopeful he would make it all the way.

when a mermaid jumped and suddenly grasped his ankle, romeo ran to keep the male on the rocks but kailen’s body began to fall back into the waves and seren did the only thing she could. and threw her sword that then pinned the fabric of kailen’s cape against the rocks. and then bolted, running the curve and launching her body over the edge and grabbing him roughly.

and soon, with the little strength she had, heaved him up, caring not for her sword that was probably going to fall into the waves.

“ perseus! ”.

seren busied herself with removing the tight jacket kailen wore as well as the chest coat and yet he made no attempt in breathing or moving. her blood began to run cold and when she began to apply her weight onto his chest, compressing a dozen times, she didn’t notice the hot tears spilling down her cheeks.

she was crying.

“ kailen? kailen! come on, wake up, wake up! breathe for me, kailen, please, we can’t lose you now! ”.

she grunted and pressed harder at a steady pace, her compression only becoming sloppy when she began to realize it wasn’t working. he wasn’t breathing. he wasn’t breathing! choking back a sob, seren pressed harder and felt someone grasping her shoulder but yanked their hand away and brought herself closer to the unresponsive boy. “ kailen, for fucks’s sake, stay with us! please! ”, she cried.

it was only when seren moved over him, pinched his nose and covered his mouth with hers, followed by two steady inhales, that she felt the boy flinch beneath her and jumped back to see the life rushing back to him.

kailen looked pale, coughing up the sea water that had been trapped within his lungs for some minutes. he was drenched, in some sort of pain, groaning through every cough and when he came to a stop, he panted. looking at the concerned faces looking over him, bringing his attention to seren and then looking around, as if to look for the ship.

“ w-what happened? w-why did i black out? ”, he grunted, moving to sit up but being pushed back down by evangelos who removed his jacket and wrapped it over the other’s shoulders. “ where’s the ship? o-oh god, did i lose the ship? ”.

seren’s lip quivered whilst she wiped the tears from her eyes, grimacing at the thought of having lost a team mate in the midst of something like that. the mermaids came out of nowhere, and through the way they shone their teeth at her, they were not good mermaids, not the ones she wold read about in stories and fairy tales. they were monsters.

and they had almost killed kailen.

if they hadn’t arrived faster, kailen would have suffered the same fate as the remains of those people they had come across near the iron barrels. he would have been eaten.

“ they dragged the ship into the ocean. there’s no way we’re going to recover it now ”, romeo voiced with a sigh. seren glanced up when perseus gave her iron thorn. her heart sank once more. if she had lost kailen and her weapon . . . she gave the boy the best smile she could manage and nodded in gratitude, looming worriedly over the boy. “ looks like we’re gonna be walking. ”

kailen sighed and met eyes with seren, smiling timidly at her. “ sorry if i scared you. but thank you for acting so quickly ”, he managed through another cough.

“ y-yeah, it’s no worries ”, seren said and smiled back at him.

but they had a lot to worry about. the day had seemingly grown darker. they had faced possible carnivorous mermaids and they had also lost their ship.

night would fall soon.

they would get hungry.

they lost their direction.

they lost their means of travel.

they were lost. officially.

#chapter six #original writing #fantasy #magic #futuristic #dystopian

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conquiistador · 4 years

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THE DRAGON & THE KING | CHAPTER 1.

The ocean glimmered in the sunlight. Gold against blue. It was too noisy to hear the soft waves sweep against the docks. There was chatter all around him. All the conversations that passed him seemed to have the same subject - excitement about boarding the cruise ship. “Regent Seven Seas Explorer” was over 200 meters long, had 10 decks, and would carry around 750 passengers. One of which would be Doflamingo himself. The ship would sail from San Francisco to Papeete on Tahiti. The cruise would take 18 days. Eighteen whole days. Doflamingo couldn’t remember ever giving himself that amount of time to devote only to indulging in his own pleasure. Nevermind the fact that while he always traveled in style, he also always traveled alone.

His subordinates returned from the ship, having carried his belongings to his suite ( he didn’t trust the cabin crew to handle his luggage ). They wished him a safe trip, and promptly left to return to their other duties. Doflamingo remained standing. While everyone boarding Seven Seas Explorer were certainly upper-class people, Doflamingo still stood out. His peculiar shaped shades with tinted glass, his expensive suit with subtle pink details, like his pink-gold cuff-links, and his pink-diamond collar pins. He towered over most of the people passing him with more than a head. They all walked in the same direction - towards the ship, but Doflamingo wasn’t looking that way. His gaze had left the ship and the sea, turned towards the city of San Francisco, and the road leading down to the docks.

Normally, Doflamingo would never SHARE the feelings of those surrounding him. Like there was an invisible barrier separating him from the world, he would never feel what others felt. Never find himself in touch with them in any sort of way. However, that was not the case today. Because he too was excited. He supposed it made him only human, and he reminded himself that this was no way for a man in his 30s to feel. The fault did not lie with him though. If anyone was to be blamed for his emotions, there could only be one candidate. The person Doflamingo was waiting for.

They could’ve spent New Year’s together, but since Kabu didn’t want Doflamingo to come to Japan for a while, that hadn’t happened. Which meant they hadn’t seen each other in over a MONTH. Today was 24. January. Doflamingo’s impatience to see him was fitting to how ( in his opinion ) long they had been apart.

Doflamingo’s Christmas present to him was this cruise. Not because it was hard to get the tickets or anything - anyone with the money could sort that out. Doflamingo simply wanted the man to ENJOY himself more. Doflamingo lived a life of pleasure, while Kabu... Lived a life of duty. It was what separated them, and if Doflamingo could break down that fence, if only just a little bit, then he was going to do exactly that. He had told Kabu that the cruise would last for 10 days, and he knew that even that had been pushing it. Kabu was busy. Doflamingo was busy as well, but not in the same way. He only took on the responsibilities he wanted. Thinking back to when he suggested the cruise to Kabu, he could still recall the immediate happiness he felt when the other accepted. A strange, unfamiliar feeling to Doflamingo. He supposed the other would’ve done research on the cruise, and he did think that Kabu would have found out that they were going out to sea for eighteen days, not just ten. How big of a problem would it be for him?

Why had he chosen a cruise, when he owned a private yacht that was more than luxurious enough? It would’ve provided them with privacy, and all the comforts they could’ve wished for. Why choose to go on a cruise with other people? There was a very simple answer to this. Because a cruise was more romantic. Doflamingo had ALWAYS been a romantic. It was why he loved operas, the ballet, classical music, poetry. His need to have anything that was unique was his way of attempting to make the world before him beautiful. Rather than the disappointing reality that it was. Doflamingo was a man who would’ve loved to live his life in a fantasy. Curious, seeing as in many aspects he was also realistic. The one subject where realism didn’t play a part was with regards to Kabu. Doflamingo didn’t want to listen to reason. That their relationship had no place in the real world, and that their parting was inevitable. He closed off his own thoughts that told him that somebody - himself - would eventually get bored. Those ROSY feelings would fade away and die. Nothing lasts forever, wasn’t that the saying? But this. THIS--- This wasn’t something Doflamingo wanted to ever imagine ending.

A black limousine with tinted windows came driving down the road. Doflamingo followed it until it stopped. A moment later, Kabu stepped out together with two men, who immediately began sorting out Kabu’s luggage after receiving orders in what Doflamingo knew was Japanese. He rarely heard Kabu speak Japanese and he thought that maybe his voice sounded a little stricter in that language, but that might be because he generally spoke in a different manner to him. They made eye-contact right away. Kabu must’ve seen him while driving down. Doflamingo knew the other couldn’t fully meet his eyes thanks to them being hidden behind his sunglasses. He knew he could’ve waited onboard in the suite, and that waiting for him by the docks was completely unnecessary. Especially considering the fact that it wasn’t exactly warm. Despite the sunshine, the temperature lay at 14 degrees. Doflamingo could thank the good quality of his suit for keeping him warm.

Kabu walked over to him. Doflamingo looked him up and down. They were dressed similarly. Both in expensive suits, though Kabu’s outfit obviously lacked those pink details that were Doflamingo’s trademarks. He looked well. Skin as fair as ever. His hair too long to be fashionable in the Western World ( Doflamingo prayed he never cut it, the longer it got the better it was to grab ). That small furrow between his brows grew deeper as he squinted slightly against the brightness of the sun. Ah, the urge to reach out for him made itself known straight away. Doflamingo could feel it like an itch in his fingertips. He had to remind himself that they would have eighteen days to touch each other. There was no rush. Patience. Patience.

❝ Long time no see. Fu fu fu fu. ~ ❞ Doflamingo opened the conversation, lips pulled into that ever-present, teasing smirk. The line was a joke, of course. He was simply making fun of the both of them for not being able to go longer than a month without seeing each other. Doflamingo didn’t think that HE was the only one who craved the other’s presence. Kabu’s feelings had to be equally strong - if not stronger. Considering just how desirable Doflamingo was. Oh, but though Doflamingo prided himself on being a beautiful man, Kabu was definitely not lacking in the looks department. Those lips and that jawline. It should be a crime.

❝ Indeed. ❞ Kabu was smirking as well. Doflamingo was used to his tone always making others flustered and uncertain, and so he truly enjoyed how different Kabu’s reactions were compared to others. Special. He was simply special. ❝ And you’ve been waiting for me? How sweet. ❞

❝ Fu fu fu fu, of course. ~ I want to make sure you get on board safely. Once the ship departs my complete capture of you will be insured. ❞ It was a leading sentence. Doflamingo was wondering if Kabu had figured out that the cruise would last for eighteen days, instead of ten like Doflamingo had initially told him.

❝ Ah, this is your way of making sure I enjoy myself ‘ for once ‘, no? ❞ Kabu was referring to their earlier talk. One they had had many times, where Doflamingo tried to explain to Kabu that it was important that he ENJOYED himself from time to time, while Kabu attempted to get Doflamingo to understand what being a Yakuza was all about. It wasn’t like Doflamingo didn’t get where Kabu was coming from, but he simply refused to bend to rules. Especially if said rules would keep them apart.

❝ Exactly. ~ I can’t believe I have to shanghai you in order for you to take some time off. ❞ Bringing someone onto a ship was the traditional way to shanghai someone after all. Though, Doflamingo didn’t have to drug him to get him on board. But - wasn’t what Kabu felt for him kind of like a drug? Doflamingo wanted to reach out for him more than ever now. Just like he wanted Kabu to put his hands on him. If only briefly.

❝ ‘ Some time ‘? ❞ Kabu repeated, and Doflamingo knew he knew. Eighteen days was a very long holiday for a Yakuza, wasn’t it? But still, Kabu was going along with it, right? For him.

❝ Fu fu fu fu. ~ Yes, just some time. ❞ More time. Always more time. ❝ Shall we? ❞ Doflamingo gestured towards the boarding area, and the two of them headed in that direction. They were walking side by side, making their small height difference evident. Doflamingo was fifteen centimeters taller. Thanks to Kabu having a broader build than himself, the other never looked that much smaller than him though. Doflamingo was leaner. His muscles were only there because he worked out to stay fit - to look good. To take care of his body which he worshiped. Kabu was fit because he had to be thanks to his work.

The two of them boarded, and were greeted by crew members offering to take them to their suite. Doflamingo declined. He had looked at the deck plans, and knew where to go. They were going to be staying in the Regent Suite on the top deck. It was the biggest one on the ship, and would give them 280 m² of indoor space, and 130 m² in balcony, including an outdoor pool. Doflamingo was used to living in luxury, so this was nothing special to him. If he was going to be away from home for 18 days, then he needed to make sure he would be comfortable. How could one hope to achieve comfort without extravagance? They received a key each to their suite. Doflamingo already knew what kind of impression it gave off when they were sharing a place to sleep. Did he care? It was hard to bring himself to. He was well-aware that for his own safety, their relationship should be kept more or less quiet. But he didn’t think whatever enemies Kabu had were the type of people to go on a cruise. They were too BUSY for that, right? This far away from Japan and everything that was familiar to Kabu, something like that wouldn’t follow them. Doflamingo was counting on that.

❝ I checked the passenger list. ❞ Kabu informed him, earning an arch of Doflamingo’s brows. Had they been thinking about the same thing? ❝ There is nothing to worry about. ❞ Ah. Kabu had thought about his safety. He had told him once that when they were together, Doflamingo’s safety was his responsibility. Kabu took his responsibilities very seriously. Of course, Doflamingo was used to people looking after his well-being, but - only because he PAYED them. There was no doubt that people admired him, looked up to him, idolized him even. But those weren’t Kabu’s reasons for wanting to protect him.

❝ I’m not worried. ❞ Now he KNEW there was no reason to worry. Doflamingo would never tell him how being protected made him feel. It was something he would not even admit to himself. He wondered if Kabu already knew. ❝ Fu fu fu fu, after all - this is a vacation. I’m sure you’re not familiar with the word. ❞ Time to tease him more about his lifestyle.

❝ At least I’m going to follow your example and live the next few days only for pleasure. ❞ Kabu smirked.

They took the stairs up to the top deck, and Doflamingo led the way to their suite. With Kabu’s key they unlocked the door. There was nothing about their suite that stated that they were on a SHIP. It might as well have been an hotel. It was open and spacious, with a polished stone floor. The interior details were black, grey and gold. When they walked in, the dining area was to the left, and the living room area and the bar to the right. In both ends of the long room, there was a door leading to a bedroom. Not that they would need TWO bedrooms. There was a bathroom linked to each bedroom. There were large windows, and several glass doors from which one could enter the balcony. It was forward-facing, so that they would always be looking in the direction the ship was heading. Apart from the artworks on the walls, and the gold details - this was not Doflamingo’s taste in interior design. He had an eye for things that were more grandiose and less modern. That being said, his pent-house apartment where he lived ( he did own several houses, but they were not convenient to live in ) was very modern. It was out of practical reasons rather than him choosing the aesthetics. Doflamingo would’ve loved to live in a PALACE. Surrounded by marble and gold. He would’ve wanted dramatic oil paintings on the walls, and enormous chandeliers in the ceiling. And the most important part? He would’ve wanted a grand garden. Well, this was a home he would make for himself when he got BORED of living in the city. It would do him good to get out of it for a while. It was rare that he spent time at sea.

❝ I prefer your house. ❞ Doflamingo stated as he walked into the room, having a look around. There was a piano placed by one of the windows. He hadn’t played since going to university. ❝ But I suppose that’s because I’ve only ever been there together with you. ~ ❞ His gaze returned to Kabu.

The ship would depart at 18:00. They would probably be on the balcony by then. Kabu would smoke, and Doflamingo would drink a glass of wine. They would pass under the Golden Gate Bridge, and then after that they could go to dinner. And after dinner? Naturally they would return to their suite and Doflamingo could finally put his hands on him. That would be the logical way to arrange the rest of the day.

They were standing next to each other again, Kabu having joined him by the window to look at the view. Or to be close to him. Their shoulders were almost touching.

❝ I don’t care where we are. ❞ Kabu said, as his fingers made contact with Doflamingo’s hair. ❝ As long as we are together. ❞ There was a smirk on his face while he said it, and yet Doflamingo knew he wasn’t teasing. Or, perhaps he was just distracted by the hand in his hair. It almost made him want to grow his hair out, if only to feel what it would be like to have Kabu tug at it. In his teenage years, his hair had been longer, but he preferred it short like it was now. He hoped Kabu wasn’t going to cut his hair. Kabu’s hand brushed over his head from his hair line to his nape, and then down his neck. It was such a simple touch, and yet it was enough to set his skin ablaze. Was it impatience on Kabu’s part, or had he simply touched him without thinking? They had spent enough time in each other’s company to develop habits. Doflamingo wanted to think that Kabu, just like himself, simply couldn’t go longer without touching him. Now that the other HAD touched him, there was no way he could keep his hands to himself. Two fingers were placed under Kabu’s chin, to tilt it up slightly. Then, Doflamingo leaned in. The kiss he delivered was nothing short of HUNGRY. It wasn’t intended that way. Their lips firmly pressing against one another, before they both parted their lips as if on command. The kiss deepened within a second. A light taste of nicotine met Doflamingo, where as Kabu would find a much sweeter flavor. Doflamingo felt Kabu’s tongue brush against his bottom lip, and he knew the other would pry his mouth open in a moment, so he invited him to stick his tongue inside by willingly opening his mouth. Next he could feel Kabu’s tongue slide into his mouth. Excitement spread from where their bodies were now joined, all the way down to Doflamingo’s groin. Was he some kind of immature teenager that would get turned on from a simple tongue-kiss? Clearly that was how he appeared right now. Now that he was already in this situation, there was no reason for him to slow down. He might as well go all-in.

The two fingers under Kabu’s jaw were turned around, and hooked under the collar of his shirt. While attempting not to break the kiss, Doflamingo pulled him down with him onto the nearest couch. He didn’t need to use much effort to do so, since Kabu was following his moves. The other’s arms were already holding him, and that possessive vibe that Kabu always gave off was shooting through the roof. Doflamingo didn’t pull Kabu into his lap - as much as he would love to - he had too much respect for him. They ended up seated next to each other on the couch, tongues still mixing in Doflamingo’s mouth. The kiss broke briefly, allowing them both a sharp inhale. ❝ You’re eager today. ❞ Kabu commented. Doflamingo silenced him with another kiss, before the Yakuza’s expression had a chance to turn smug. Doflamingo being, as Kabu put it, ‘ eager ‘ was nothing new. Impatience had been building up in him for WEEKS.

❝ Fu fu fu fu, am I the only one? ~ ❞ He knew he wasn’t. There was no way anybody could receive such kisses from him and not be affected. Not even Kabu, who was oh so good at keeping his emotions in check. Breathing into the kiss, Doflamingo slid a hand up between Kabu’s legs and palmed him firmly. The other was already hard. He would’ve expected nothing less from that man and his insane sex drive. Having his partners pleasure as a part of his own excitement was still something new to Doflamingo, and to him this was one of the things that made their relationship intimate. As Kabu’s arousal grew, Doflamingo began to map out the outline of his cock through the fabric of his pants. His size was as impressive as ever.

❝ Trying to get me off through my pants? Don’t be so lazy. ❞ It wasn’t a critique. It was just Kabu showing that he TOO was impatient. He wanted direct skin contact. Kabu had a had on the back of Doflamingo’s head now, keeping him from pulling out of the kiss, despite how badly Doflamingo needed to breathe. Kabu didn’t let him. To pay him back for this, Doflamingo pushed his hand into Kabu’s pants and underwear, and curled his fingers around his throbbing erection. This made Kabu gasp a little, and he released Doflamingo from the hold briefly, allowing him to take a deep, much needed breath. With their kiss now broken, Kabu could brush his thumb over Doflamingo’s bottom lip. He briefly dipped out his tongue to meet his finger, and Kabu pushed it into his mouth. ❝ I want you to use your mouth. ❞

❝ Fu fu fu fu. ~ ❞ Doflamingo chuckled after biting down on Kabu’s thumb. ❝ And I wand to taste you. ❞ Usually, Kabu was the one to be the first one to perform this sort of service, so Doflamingo didn’t mind changing the order. ❝ But touch me first. ~ ❞ They way he said it made it so there might as well have been a ‘ please ‘ at the end of the sentence. Kabu obliged him right away, and shoved his hand down into Doflamingo’s palm. Those ringed fingers took a firm grip of his dick, and Doflamingo moaned as he thrust into his hold. ❝ Ah--- ~ ❞ Now distracted by his own pleasure, he began to pump Kabu’s cock with firm, quick strokes. Kabu’s thumb slid over his crown, and Doflamingo noticed how he was already oozing precum. Just from kissing him and touching him. His attraction towards this man was simply dangerous. Kabu kissed down his neck, and with his vacant hand he began to undo the buttons on Doflamingo’s shirt to expose more skin. Doflamingo pumped his dick faster to encourage him to continue. Kabu’s kisses followed down his now exposed chest. He knew what the other was going to do next, and another moan sounded from him when Kabu’s tongue brushed over his nipple. One was now being teased by Kabu’s tongue, and the other one pinched by his fingers. All while the Yakuza was working his cock at a painfully slow rhythm. Doflamingo’s pace was much quicker, and he loved how he could feel Kabu get wet for him. The other’s lips locked around his nipple, making Doflamingo moan once again when he began to suck. ❝ Mhh--- ~ ❞ Next followed his teeth, pinching the hardened bud enough to make Doflamingo gasp. He wanted more. Kabu gave him more. Enough to mark him here in a spot that was ONLY sensitive because the one doing the touching was Kabu. Doflamingo restlessly thrust himself into Kabu’s rough hand. Wanting more. NEEDING more. If Kabu hadn’t been going so slowly, Doflamingo was pretty sure he would’ve been able to cum like this. Kabu’s mouth switched with his hand, so that his other nipple could get the SAME treatment. Lips, teeth and tongue marking him and making his body feel weak. The hand that had been joining Kabu’s mouth with teasing his nipples, was moved down to open Kabu’s pants. Clearly the other thought it was getting uncomfortably tight down there, with both his dick and Doflamingo’s large hand. Once Kabu’s cock was freed, Doflamingo didn’t hesitate to lean down to use his mouth like the other had wanted him to. The tingling, almost HIGH sensation of pleasure was making him compliant. He wanted to pleasure Kabu. Tongue slid out from behind his teeth. Wet and hungry for the other’s taste. As he brushed his tongue over the other’s head, he got what he wanted. A shiver ran down Doflamingo’s spine, and he could hear Kabu gasp again. Doflamingo was quick to lock his lips around him. Precum was mixing with his own spit and it was delicious. He swallowed. Quickly, eagerly, he began to bob his head up and down, playfully popping Kabu’s cock out of his mouth each time he pulled back.

❝ Ah--- ❞ Finally it was Kabu’s turn to let his voice out. Doflamingo took MORE of his dick into his mouth. He knew Kabu was watching everything, and that just made it even more hot. Of course watching someone like HIM swallow your cock like this would look divine. It made him want to put on a good show. A few more inches of Kabu disappeared into Doflamingo’s mouth, and his tongue worked around him to smear his shaft with that mix of spit and precum. Kabu had let go of his dick now, and this allowed Doflamingo to move onto his knees in front of Kabu on the couch. It was a better angle, despite how his dick was already aching to feel those fingers again. It was almost tempting to start touching himself, but he knew Kabu wanted to be the one to bring him to an orgasm. And, in any case, Kabu’s pleasure was the one in focus now. Once he was kneeling before him, Kabu’s hand was placed on his head. It was both as an encouragement, and as a small warning. Doflamingo knew Kabu liked to FUCK his mouth. He relaxed his jaw in order to take that thick cock deeper. It was hitting the back of his throat now, testing his gag reflexes which almost kicked in. They were activated enough for Doflamingo’s eyes to begin to water. Ignoring that, he hollowed his cheeks and sucked hard. It tasted so good. ❝ Ah shit--- ❞ Kabu cursed behind gritted teeth. Doflamingo loved it when he made him curse. He began to bob his head again, but this time he made sure Kabu’s cock stayed DEEP inside his mouth, almost threatening to slide DOWN his throat. One day, he hoped he would be able to deep throat him, if only to see Kabu’s expression. Kabu’s hold on his head grew firm when both his hands were holding him in place. Carefully, Kabu’s hips nudged forward, taking Doflamingo by surprise. He pulled back briefly, only because he wasn’t expecting it. But when the next thrust was delivered, he didn’t try to get away. Kabu held his head steady while he began to rock his hips, fucking Doflamingo’s mouth just like he loved doing. Doflamingo licked his shaft and sucked while Kabu’s hips moved. The other was loud enough for his voice to sound like groans. Doflamingo knew Kabu was generally quiet in bed so this was insanely satisfying to him. He could feel his own dick throb in his pants, and precum was staining his underwear. Who would’ve thought having your lover fuck your mouth could be this hot? Kabu’s hold on Doflamingo’s head was suddenly put to use, as Kabu pushed on the back of his head, forcing Doflamingo to take him just past the back of his throat. Doflamingo gagged, and attempted to pull back. Kabu’s hold made it impossible. ❝ Fuck--- Ah--- Shit--- Doflamingo, you look so fucking hot swallowing my dick--- ❞ Kabu told him through gritted teeth. Doflamingo looked up at him, his eyes had watered over from that gag. Kabu kept fucking his mouth. Doflamingo knew he just couldn’t control himself, and somehow, he found that hot. Knowing that Kabu was in so much pleasure that he was losing his control was pleasing beyond compare. Doflamingo could feel his mouth water even more, and he had to swallow hard to not drown in his own drool. A few more rough thrusts from Kabu and then the other moaned his name loudly. Doflamingo felt Kabu’s thick, hot cum hit the back of his throat. The other thrust into him as he came, and Doflamingo swallowed around him, drinking as much as he could. That much fluid couldn’t fit in his mouth, and some escaped from between his lips, staining his chin. Kabu pumped his cum into his mouth, all while holding his head down to make him swallow it all ( Doflamingo would’ve done this anyway ). Once he was all empty, he eased up on the hold, and Doflamingo slowly pulled his head back. Kabu’s cock slid out of his mouth, and Doflamingo was panting heavily. ❝ You’re amazing. ❞ Kabu complimented him. He too was out of breath. There was no need for kind words, since the other’s orgasm had been enough evidence. ❝ I almost made you deepthroat me. ❞ It wasn’t really an apology, yet Doflamingo would interpret it as once.

❝ Fu fu fu fu. ~ As payback, let me use your ass. ~ No penetration, of course. ~ ❞ This was one of HIS favorite things to do. As much as he wished to properly claim him as HIS, he knew he would have to wait in order for that to happen. He definitely hadn’t given up on that subject. Kabu leaned down and claimed his mouth for a kiss. He knew he wanted to taste himself on his tongue, so Doflamingo opened his mouth, welcoming him inside. The kiss lasted for a long moment, before Kabu pulled back again.

❝ Then let’s move to bed. ❞ He would hear no complains from Doflamingo. A bed would be MUCH more comfortable. He was so horny he could hardly wait for his release. His legs almost felt wobbly when he stood up. Kabu got up as well, and they headed for the nearest out of the two bedrooms. It was not even dark outside and they were already walking into a bedroom? This was HUNGER.

#taintedxxflesh #[ MERRY CHRISTMAS MY LOVE ]#[ here is chapter one ]#[ out of probably 6 or 7 we'll see ]#[ and yeah there is going to be an ACTUAL plot here ]#[ with some dark themes ]#[ but AFTER they have gotten each other off lol ]#[ i feel like if they didn't do this first... it wouldn't be like them lol ]#[ i hope you enjoy it ~ ]#[ i'm excited to write the darker things tbh ]#[ and as i said - this is not canon for them - ]#[ because some dark dark stuff is gonna happen ]#[ i'm glad i could finish this chapter in time ]#[ will write the next one soon ~ ]#ʰᵉᵃᵛᵉᶰˡʸ ᵈᵉᵐᵒᶰ ;; ic.#drabble.#ᵇˡᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᶰᵈ ʷʰᶤᵗᵉ ;; verse - au.01.#lemon //#longpost //

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missmungoe · 6 years

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Shanks' tattoo is on his ass isn't it, he has a tramp stamp doesn't he?

(Doc would have had to be absolutely shitfaced to agree to that. I mean, it’s entirely possible, but I…had something a little different in mind)

“You got a tattoo?”

Shanks sighed. So much for elegantly segueing into that. “Does Ben tell you everything because you’ve got him wrapped around your little finger, or just to spite me? I never know with that guy.”

Judging by her expression, she wasn’t having any of his cheek. Tiny and cheerfully pregnant, she cut a surprisingly authoritative figure. All that was missing was for her to put her hands on her hips.

Time for a strategic evasion. “Wanna see if you can find it?” Shanks asked her brightly. “You can pat me down, and I’ll tell you if you’re getting warmer or colder.” Then with a lewd smile, quipped, “I know what I’ll be getting.”

“I’m sorry,” Makino said, holding up a hand, as though to stop him. “I’m still on the part where you got a tattoo.”

He shrugged. “Sailors have tattoos. Why can’t I have one?”

“You’re nearly forty years old, to start,” she shot back, with a delicately arched brow.

He countered it with both of his, and gasped, “Oh, you didn’t even hesitate.”

She put her hands on her hips, the challenge as stark as the roundness of her belly, and grinning, Shanks murmured fondly, “There it is.”

He got a startled huff for that, although she didn’t succeed in killing her smile in time. “Don’t try to flirt your way out of this!”

“I’m not,” Shanks said. “If I was, we’d be in my cabin right now, on round two.”

“Christ, Boss, we only got here five minutes ago,” Yasopp said, walking past them. “Then again, you’re not a young man anymore. Maybe you don’t need more than that.” He slipped her a wink. “Our condolences, Ma-chan.”

“Thank you,” Makino said, with what Shanks wanted to point out was an unnecessary amount of emphasis.

Smiling, Shanks flipped him off, before turning back to look at her, and pointed to her stomach. “For the record, that took more than five minutes.”

“I’ll get you a medal,” came the demure the retort, as she smoothed her hands over the bump, before lacing her fingers together. Then, her eyes flicking to his chest, she tucked her tongue into her cheek. Shanks didn’t think she could have been more obvious if she’d been carrying a sign with her thoughts written on it.

“So…where is it?” Makino asked, her voice steady but for a slight if entirely telling stutter.

“Oh?” Shanks asked, grinning as he ducked his head to catch her gaze, delighting in how short she was, and the way her cheeks puffed up told him she was well aware. “Curious, is she? Well bully for you, because I’m not telling.” He stuck his tongue out for good measure.

“I’ll see it eventually,” Makino told him pertly. “It doesn’t take a lot to get your clothes off.” And delicately sidestepping his feigned affront to that statement, she dropped her gaze to his chest again. “Honestly, I’m surprised I can’t see it right now.” Then, her eyes widening, they shot back to his. “Shanks—”

“I can practically see your imagination running off with you,” he said, shaking his head. “But now I’m curious to hear what you’re picturing. Something filthy, I hope. Is it me, naked and draped across your counter—oh, there’s the blush I’ve missed.” He grinned, and asked brightly, “So how’s that for flirting my way out of trouble?”

The way her eyes gleamed suggested he was winning her over, but she only pressed her lips together and watched him, having apparently decided that fixing the full force of her eyes on him and staring him down in silence was the best strategy to getting her way.

Damn it, she knew him too well.

“Fine,” he said, surrendering. “Since you apparently can’t wait until you’ve got me at your mercy later, I guess I’ll just have to show you now. If you think you can keep your hands to yourself, that is. It has been a few weeks since you’ve had any of this.” To illustrate, he gestured to himself, the suggestive sweep of his hand only a little exaggerated.

“I’ll manage somehow,” Makino said mildly, hands cupped under her belly, and when he met her eyes, only raised her chin a little further, her brows quirking, as though to say go on.

Holding her gaze, he worked loose the buttons on his shirt, before reaching up to push the right sleeve over his shoulder, and he watched as her brows jumped up in surprise.

“What?” Shanks asked, pausing. “Were you expecting it to be somewhere indecent? Like right above my co—”

“Could you just show me?” she asked, but the flare of colour in her cheeks gave her away, her eyes darting to the docks around them, and the last of his crew disembarking, all of them grinning at the spectacle of him undressing, as she murmured, “I’m just relieved you’re not about to pull down your pants.”

“My ass is too pretty,” Shanks said. “It would be a crime to slap ink on it.”

“Doc refused, didn’t he?”

“Point blank,” he chirped. “Of course, my memories of the incident in question are burry at best. I think I cried, though. Most likely, given what I ended up getting.”

She sighed, and this time, actually looked more reluctant than genuinely curious. “You’re not making this any less nerve-wracking”

He rolled his eyes, and to her stomach, said, “Your mother will say I’m the dramatic one, but let the record show that she’s a big, pregnant liar.” Then to Makino, “I take back what I said—I don’t even want to know what you’re expecting. From the look on your face, you’d think I got a dirty pin-up of Big Mom.”

“One of Kaidou would be less disturbing,” Makino said, not even half a beat missed.

“God, I love you,” Shanks sighed, and saw how her eyes crinkled at the corners. “But I don’t think I’d have enough room for that. And I’d rather wade into the surf and offer the sea king my remaining arm, thanks.”

She was smiling now, seeming tentatively mollified by his attempted humour, even as she still looked like she was bracing for the worst, her hands cradled almost protectively around her belly, as though to shield their child from whatever she was about to see.

Shanks didn’t vocally reiterate his point about exaggerated dramatics, but knew she caught it from the wry look he gave her, although he couldn’t help the slight flicker of nervousness as he shrugged his arm free of his shirtsleeve, before turning it over to show her the underside of his bicep, his breath held as he awaited her reaction.

Makino blinked, and he watched as her eyes rounded, before they flew up to meet his. Her mouth had fallen open slightly, and she closed it, before opening it again, as though she meant to say something, although nothing came out as she looked back at his arm, and the tattoo where he’d bared it.

Her mouth pursed then, and she turned her eyes away, very deliberately avoiding his gaze now, and Shanks gaped, his grin so startled it dragged a laugh with it. “Wait a minute—are you pleased?”

Stubborn, she said nothing, and refused to meet his eyes now, although Shanks didn’t think she’d ever done a more terrible job at hiding her feelings.

“You are,” he said, delighted. Then with a soft chuckle, unduly pleased by her reaction and unable to keep the slight quaver out of his voice, “My vain girl,” he murmured. “And here I was thinking you’d be mortified by the homage.”

Her gaze flicked up to meet his this time, before she looked at his arm again, her expression wrought with so much feeling, it stole his breath. He couldn’t stop grinning.

“So now that you’ve seen it, how relieved are you that it’s not a pin-up of—”

She cut him off with a kiss, the interruption surprisingly smooth given the size of her stomach and the fact that she had to physically pull him down to reach him, but even as it muffled his laughter, it didn’t succeed in wiping away his grin, wide where it stretched against her lips, seeming as permanent as the ink on his skin, but then she had that effect; the greatest constant of happiness in his life. And the homage seemed a small one, compared to the permanence of that unshakeable heart.

#Shanks x Makino #One Piece #Shanks #Akagami no Shanks #Red-Haired Shanks #Makino (One Piece)#Red-Haired Shanks x Makino #Shanks/Makino #Red-Hair Pirates #One Piece fanfiction #opfanfic #mungoe writes #otp: sing me sea shanties #thousandsunny

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notgoingtohappen · 6 years

Text

Revenge, Interrupted (Part 23)

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Caroline was right.

Something had changed between her and Stefan. It was almost imperceptible; they still got along fine, they still spent the usual relationship-worthy amount of time together. Their friends wouldn’t notice, but when they were alone…

It wasn’t just her hypersensitivity. Since returning from the cabin, this entire week they had been more reserved, less talkative, more distant.

She was sitting on the couch with Elena, trying to listen to her relationship problems, but couldn’t stop her mind from wandering to Stefan.

“–and sometimes, I just want to strangle him! But then… that’s kinda hot, don’t you think? Caroline? Care!”

Caroline started.

“I knew it. Chewing your lip and staring into the distance, the sure sign you’re not listening. Not everyone’s relationship can be perfect! I told Nadia she was dead wrong, it’s Delena that’s in trouble.”

“I’m sorry, Elena. Wait, what?”

“Oh you know, our couple name. Damon and Elena, Delena.”

“No, um, the Nadia thing.”

“Nothing, she just said she got super weird vibes from you at the cabin. Asked me if you’d broken up. Something about Liam being interested in you.”

“No, of course, we’re fine…”

“That’s what I said.”

Bonnie walked in from her room and collapsed onto the couch. “What up, ladies?”

“Nothing, I just think my relationship is dead!” Elena cried dramatically and buried her face in a cushion.

Bonnie exchanged a look with Caroline. Oh boy.

“As for me, I am nervous,” Caroline added.

“Oh right, about your job tomorrow. Don’t stress, babe! You’re perfect for the job”

Caroline sighed. “I know. I just… am gonna obsess over it anyway.”

Bonnie looked around mournfully. “As long as we’re having a pity party, I’m terrified I’ll do something wrong and it’ll mess up a whole class of children and stay with them for the rest of their lives.”

“You are gonna be the best teacher they’ll ever have their whole damn lives, Bonnie Bennett.”

Elena extended an arm without raising her head and hugged Bonnie as she scooted into it.

“Are you guys sick or something?” Came a voice from above them a few minutes later.

The girls looked up wearily to find Stefan Salvatore standing there awkwardly.

“Oh look, it’s the brother. The perfect boyfriend. Blech.” Elena muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“Hey, Stefan! What did you think of your elementary school teacher? Any lasting impressions she made on you? Or any traumas associated with first grade you can recall?”

“Uh…”

Caroline had to save the poor guy. Hauling herself up, she moved to hug him, but he moved to kiss her cheek and it resulted in a really awkward dance that left her best friends snickering.

They were painfully out of sync.

“I’m uh, cooking you dinner. Because of tomorrow.” Stefan announced.

Caroline was touched. “Aw, thank you!”

Moments like these, it hurt to remember none of this was real. To see what they could have for real, but didn’t.

She followed him across the hall and to the Salvatore loft and perched on the kitchen counter, finding it had become an all too familiar spot.

Enzo and Damon greeted her distractedly from the TV and continued gaming. Stefan put some music on his phone to drown the sounds of virtual shooting out and Caroline watched him cook.

Nothing could drown out the memories of the rave from her mind. That night had been mind-blowing. It was an unfair joke on the universe’s part that what she’d told the girls a few days ago turned out to be so completely true: Stefan was the best sex she’d ever had. He made her feel things no other guys had, so easily it seemed almost too natural. Caroline couldn’t get it out of her head for too long, no matter how hard she tried.

She was over being mad at herself for it, though. Now she just had to focus on acting normal with Stefan. On both sides; alone and in front of the others.

It was going to be over soon, she kept telling herself. She wasn’t sure the thought brought more relief or heartache.

“How cheesy do you want the pasta?” Stefan asked.

“Did you say pasta, mate?” Came Enzo’s voice.

“Yeah, but I only made enough sauce for two. Sorry.” Stefan called back.

“Ugh. Pause the game, Enzo, I’m going to order some pizza.” Damon stalked into view holding his phone to his ear, glaring at Stefan.

“Chill out, Damon. He’s just being a good boyfriend” Caroline playfully raised her leg to stop Stefan when he passed by her. He turned to her with an easy smile and she rested her arms on his shoulders, nudging him closer to the counter with her legs. His hands moved to rest on her waist and he kissed her forehead gently.

She swallowed. She was expecting a normal kiss, and this threw her.

Fortunately, Damon and his grumbling came to the rescue.

“Do you two really need to flaunt your perfect relationship in our faces all the time? Some of us have actual problems, you know. I could throw up. Enzo, tell Steffy I could actually throw up.”

Enzo came into view and grabbed a bit of cheese. “Sorry, guys. I think he’s having some relationship problems with El–”

“Shut up, Lorenzo!”

Enzo raised his hands in defeat and swirled a finger near his ear, signalling that Damon had lost it.

Well. Caroline could have predicted that the day they met.

“I blame you four for setting such annoyingly high relationship standards that Elena gets mad at me for everything.”

“Just go talk to each other maybe?” She suggested.

“We just end up having sex,” Damon said glumly.

Stefan pursed his lips with a look that was a mixture of both disinterest and defeat and then went back to cooking.

“Extra cheesy,” Caroline whispered to him. “What the hell, treat yo self, right?”

Damon glowered. “That’s not a problem for you two, is it? I mean both the cheesiness and the sex. The last place I expected to find you drunk Hufflepuffs was upstairs in one of the rooms, but…”

Despite her best efforts, Caroline blushed.

“Back off, Damon.” Stefan snapped, noticing how visibly uncomfortable she was.

“Talk to your girlfriend instead of being a baby,” Enzo said helpfully.

“And we are Gryffindors! Or maybe Ravenclaws.” Caroline added.

“I never figured out which I am,” Enzo muttered.

~*~

Caroline couldn’t stop giggling.

“Candles? Seriously?”

“It’s what I’d do at this point in a relationship, especially on a special occasion,” Stefan said simply.

“Okay, then, I will dress appropriately for your fancy candlelight dinner and be right back.” She laughed and made her way back to her loft.

“Come on, no need” Stefan called after her, but no way was she letting an opportunity to dress up like this go. This was so unnecessary and fun. And cute. None of her exes had ever done stuff like this. But Stefan… it had only been a few weeks and he remained perfect. It was unbelievable. Who wouldn’t want him for real, brooding and messed up exes and all?

“Don’t you look cheerful. Going out?” Bonnie asked from the couch as Caroline walked to the door in strappy heels, eyeing her black gown and elegantly pinned up bangs.

“Nope, candlelight dinner courtesy of Stefan.”

Bonnie smiled. “Have fun!”

Stefan’s eyes widened slightly when he saw her. She’d never get tired of that reaction, she thought happily as she sat down on the chair he pulled out.

She grinned and then raised her eyebrows at him.

He didn’t look too bad himself. Oh, who was he kidding, she was probably mirroring his expression. Stefan Salvatore in a suit made her feel things she shouldn’t be feeling anymore. Or at all. Ever.

“Well as long as we were both committed to the fanciness of tonight,” Stefan explained. “Damon’s sulking in his room” he added quietly.

Caroline nodded.

Honestly, they could probably go on like this for months. They were friends, allies, and it’s not like that much had changed. They hadn’t kissed since they’d got back, and they didn’t even have to talk about what had happened again. It was like they both wanted to forget anything that hadn’t been part of the plan. It was better that way. Everything was fine.

“Are you nervous about tomorrow?” Stefan asked her as he handed her a glass of wine. They’d agreed it wasn’t hard liquor and wouldn’t do any harm.

“A little… okay yes. I want to make a good first impression, get along with the others, prove myself, you know?”

He looked thoughtful. “You’ll be great. Just relax today, get a good night’s sleep.”

She couldn’t help but stare at the shadows the candlelight cast upon his angular face.

“This is amazing,” she exclaimed as she tried the pasta. “Why aren’t you a chef again?”

“Thank you. Why aren’t you an actress again?”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“The career options are unlimited” Stefan sighed.

“A true power couple.”

Once they’d polished the food and wine and were about to go chill in her loft, Stefan suddenly told her to wait and ducked into his room.

He came out carrying a small velvet box.

“Almost forgot about this.”

Caroline froze. Her heart literally stopped. Marrying a guy this perfect was the dream, and she’d gladly marry Stefan Salvatore (it would certainly fix the problem of her feelings for him being real), but they were too young, they’d just met, and really what the fuck.

Stefan stopped in his tracks when he saw the look on her face.

“Stefan, we’re fake dating, no one said anything about marriage!” She hissed, finding her voice once she saw the ridiculous look on his face.

Stefan looked like a confused puppy, and Caroline felt an instant rush of endearment. Damn it.

“What? No… that’s not… Caroline, it’s a gift I got for you.” He gave the box to her and she opened it curiously, and what the saw took her breath away.

It was a pendant, simple yet beautiful. A deep blue star outlined in silver. The gleaming stone looked like lapis lazuli, and the faint patterns under its surface only added to its charm.

“Oh my god. It’s gorgeous. Thank you, Stefan.” She reached up to kiss his cheek. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. It reminded me of you. Plus, you know, big gesture and all. You said to take care of it.”

Caroline’s heart sank as realisation dawned on her.

Of course that’s what it was.

Before she could collect herself and say something about going to go sleep, the door burst open and in the doorway stood a very determined looking Elena Gilbert.

“Salvatore!” She called out. “We need to talk!”

Enzo emerged from Damon’s room and on seeing Bonnie hanging behind in the hallway, made a speedy exit with her to god knows where. Their beloved diner, probably.

Elena’s gaze landed on the couple standing in the living room. “Oh hey, Stefan. I didn’t mean you. Aw, you guys look pretty. Wait, is that a–”

“Pendant!” Caroline held the box up quickly.

“It’s so cute!”

“Like hell, we need to talk.” They turned to find Damon standing in his doorway. The couple was facing off from opposite ends of the living room and Caroline and Stefan exchanged a look that clearly said ‘run’.

“Stefan, let’s go to my room. I can thank you for this properly.” Caroline winked hurriedly, well aware of how comical it would have looked, and practically dragged Stefan to her loft.

They collapsed against the closed door, safely away from what was going to be a messy fight.

Caroline ducked into the bathroom to change into her pyjamas and washed the makeup off, running her hands through her hair to loosen the pinned locks.

The sight of Stefan sitting on her bed and smiling at her as she got in next to him, made her heart flip-flop against her will.

“So I’m going to sleep now. Feel free to crash here if you want to avoid, you know.” Caroline pulled the comforter over her shoulder.

Stefan took off his shoes and got in beside her. “Okay, thanks.”

When she moved to rest her head on his shoulder, Caroline told herself it had nothing to do with habit. She didn’t prefer to sleep next to him. She wasn’t that far gone.

~*~

When Caroline woke up, Stefan was gone, but she didn’t dwell on it. All her thoughts were focussed on her first day of work.

She grabbed a piece of toast, quickly hugged the girls, and rushed, determined not to be late.

~*~

The day went by smoothly.

Caroline had gotten along with the other two assistants, a goth-looking young woman and a blonde guy, just fine. Her boss and her other co-workers seemed nice enough, and the work looked interesting. The girl had shown her around the place and explained her job to her, and by late afternoon, Caroline was free. Her work hours weren’t that long. Plus, it was the first day, and she just had to shadow them.

Once she was home, she watched some reality TV with Bonnie until she left for Enzo’s for the night, and then Caroline was alone with the daunting task of cooking dinner for herself.

Suddenly, a much better alternative presented itself to her. She dialled Stefan’s number.

“Hey, wanna check out that diner? I wanted to get some dinner.”

It wasn’t too much, she told herself. Friends went for night-time walks to eat meals outside all the time. She may feel more for him because of their messed up situation, but they were still friends, and that’s what his presence was for her.

She kept telling herself that.

#steroline #steroline fics #steroline fanfiction #ri #*attempts to move the plot along*#caroline getting too dependent on stefan and enjoying the relationship too much #stefan acting like a husband and enjoying the relationship too much #them refusing to acknowledge what happened and how it changed things #its all gonna blow up #:-)#also I imagine the pendant to resemble her daylight ring #stefan gave that to her too :'

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writingthingsisdifficult · 7 years

Text

Perfect afternoon

Anonymous sent a request: Could you please write something with Sam for me? Maybe like the song For Forever by Dear Evan Hansen please? I just lost my sister to cancer and I need something to look forward to. Thank you

This was a bit hard to write, had to let the song simmer for a while before inspiration struck, ‘cause the song is so melancholic – but I hope you like what I came up with, and I hope you have let the grief run its course, but not let it consume your life.

Note: I’ve used the song for inspiration, it may not be that easily recognised all the time.

Sam x reader, and there’s no warnings on this that I can think of, except some language, I guess.

Word count: 2620

June has transitioned into July before we caught a bit of a break and got to relax for a while. The spring and early summer was hell, quite literally, and all of us yearned for a few days of just breathing and living without fighting to survive. So at the first sign of peace Dean and I managed to convince Sam that a small holiday was an absolute necessity.

That’s how we find ourselves in a spacious cabin, courtesy of a very grateful, old widow whose late husband tried to shut her in the basement of their very old-fashioned home. Granted: she didn’t fully understand what happened at the time, but she understood enough to know that we saved her life, and rescued her beloved, rat-like, yappy-type dog too, and promptly offered us unlimited use of her mountain cabin. As she said: it was just sitting there, dusty and unused anyway.

Mountain cabin is probably a bit generous, though. It is located on the outskirts of a small town nestled snugly at the base of a picturesque range of tall hills, but not high enough to warrant extra gear or a big car to get us there – but it is private enough to shield us from the curious eyes of the locals.

Dean took to it immediately. The weather is warm, and the air is dry, and he spends the days either on the shore of the small lake just behind the cabin with a cold beer in one hand and a musty, old fishing rod he’s excavated from one of the many cupboards, or with a bucket of soapy water and a rag, taking care of his one true love.

“Baby needs some love,” he says, sending looks of adoration and affection to the car, the water spraying rainbows into the air. The Impala shines like a star, standing happily in the gravel by the porch.

Taking refuge from the scorching mid-day sun, I sit down in the porch swing – carefully, testing that the wood hasn’t rotted through. It proves an unnecessary worry: the swing creaks a bit under my weight, but holds up, and I rock back and forth on my toes. “Seriously, Dean, that is not a healthy relationship,” I tease, giggling from the dark look in his eyes once he overcomes the initial shock of my indecent accusation.

“She’s not young anymore, Y/N, you know that. She needs a lot of TLC –“

“Relax, dude. I didn’t mean it. You two are made for each other. You’ll make each other very happy –“

“Shut it! Go bother Sam if you can’t be nice.” He picks up the bucket and carries it over to the other side of the car, out of my sight.

Shrugging, I get to my feet. “I would, but I don’t know where he is,” I say, hoping my voice sounds normal. Sam has been restless ever since the evening we arrived – like he has forgotten how to relax, and I rarely see him other than at breakfast and dinner. What he does with the rest of his time is a mystery. And it sort of breaks my heart a little.

Sam’s happiness, or lack of, affects me a lot. During the years we’ve known each other, I so very foolishly have gone and fallen in love with him, but I lack the courage to do anything at all about it. Instead, I have buried my thumping heart deep in my chest, and evicted all the fluttering butterflies from my stomach, and pretend that we were just friends. Because that’s what we’ve always been.

Dean pokes his head over the roof of the car and cocks his head. “Last I saw him, he sat out back with his nose in a book. Knowing him, he hasn’t moved yet.” He shakes his head and ducks back down behind the car again, muttering about rest and relaxation and not being able to take a break from research.

Jumping to my feet, I offer thanks over my shoulder and heads for the kitchen, thinking I might as well have an excuse for interrupting Sam when he obviously wants to be alone. I grab a couple of glasses and the mug of lemonade I made for lunch and head into the meadow behind the cabin.

Even though I am used to being around Sam, I still stutter a bit when I see him. He has laid out a folded blanket on the grass and sits with the book in his hand, but his face is turned towards the sun. The flannel he usually wears is discarded in a crumpled heap by his feet, and he’s kicked off his shoes and socks. If I had ever thought about how my personal heaven would look like, this would come very close.

“Hey,” I say when I get close enough.

Opening his eyes, he blinks a couple of times, and then he smiles. “Hey.”

I can’t think of anything else to say, so I simply hold out the lemonade with a tilt to my head: an unspoken offer. Sam puts away his book and scoots over to make room for me. As I sit down, I only spill a couple of drops, but it is enough to make me yelp in surprise as the cold liquid slosh over my knee, sending an icy blast through my veins. The sound of Sam laughing so heartily makes me feel like I am soaring through the blue skies.

It’s as if time slows down. A light breeze blows over us, gifting us the music from unseen birds in the trees and the buzzing insects. Drowsy summer day heat rolls over our faces, and we watch the slow ripples on the lake, just taking in the calm and storing it for times when shit blows up.

I gotta say something – this balloon in my chest is almost bursting, but when I look at Sam, I’m afraid I’m gonna talk gibberish. Taking a deep breath, I roll my shoulders. “You know what I really want right now?” My mind is set, but I chicken out at the last minute, when his beautiful eyes lock with mine. All air rushes out of my lungs. Typical. “A proper ice cream. Like made of cream and real vanilla seeds and chocolate.” The lie comes fast and seamlessly, and I don’t think he notices the hesitation that lasts for a fraction of a moment. But there is no hiding the colour that spreads over my cheeks or the heat that flushes my face like a furnace. I pick at the frayed edge of the blanket.

Sam looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t, and we just sit there, watching the trees and the water and the sun slowly making her way over the sky. To our left a bumblebee is busy head-butting all the flowers it can find, and the sight make me giggle.

“They don’t look like the smartest of animals, do they?” I reply to Sam’s curious look, pointing at the flying paradox that is now eagerly trying to fit into a light pink foxglove that is just a couple of sizes too small.

“Uh-huh…” says Sam, laughing at the bumbling creature, not noticing my lingering gaze or how I stop myself from reaching out to run my hand through his hair. Instead, he points to a different flower. “Look, there’s another one. They’re kinda… graceful…”

“Really?” I snort.

“Well, considering they’re not really supposed to be able to fly, I’d say it’s almost like a ballet dancer,” he replies with a sheepish smile.

Flopping over on my stomach, I hide my face in the blanket for a second before laughing loudly and startling the closest bumblebee. “The Ballet of the Bumblebee,” I proclaim, waving my hand dramatically, awkwardly striking a vague pose.

We fall quiet again, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve always been comfortable with silence. So close to the ground, the rich, dark scent of drying soil fills my nose, and I inhale deeply, cementing this day in my memories.

Without thinking, I pick a yellow flower and wafting it slowly back and forth. The scent is almost buttery, and sweet, and transports me back to when I was young and carefree, and the biggest worry I had was the amount of homework Mr. Lewis assigned over the weekend.

The flower slips out of my hand, and floats tucks itself behind my ear –I look up to find Sam looking down at me. His eyes are soft, and his hand lingers around the flower stem. “I…” he says, but shuts up. His eyes flick up towards the cabin, and a few seconds later, Dean saunters past us, with the cooler in one hand, and the fishing rod in the other. He is humming to himself, and almost skips over the grass.

Sitting up, Sam clears his throat. “Hey, Dean, you done with your baby?”

“Huh?” He stops and looks around, as if he hasn’t even noticed us sitting there. “Yeah, for now. Why?”

“Gimme the keys. I want ice cream.”

My head whips in Sam’s direction, and I ungraciously swallow a lot of air, and I probably look like an idiot with my eyes on stalks when Dean fishes the keys from his pocket. Before he tosses them to Sam, he gives us a stern look. “No funny business,” he says with half a smile. “And don’t you dare hurt her,” he adds after some thought.

“What, the car or Y/N?” Sam asks lightly, pulling me to my feet, but Dean’s answer is nothing more than a mumbled grumble. We burst out laughing, and run and stumble towards the cabin before Dean can change his mind.

Sam must have been more awake than me when we first drove into town, because he has no trouble finding parking space, and moments later, he pulls me through the door and into a small ice cream shop that I could swear just popped out of nowhere.

They don’t have too many flavours to choose from, but it’s enough, and we both end up with a couple of scoops of soft deliciousness that threaten to drip down our hands in the heat from the sun.

Licking the ice cream and walking slowly through the sleepy streets, we make our way to a small park that’s obviously made with passing tourists in mind – it’s filled with fake “authentic” monuments over semi-historical events and places, and every couple of yards there’s benches dedicated to people who no doubt are famous if you were born in this town.

Sitting down on one dedicated to Deirdre, who, according to the plaque, didn’t give a crap about the park, but liked to feed the pigeons, we watch people wander by, and the trees and the squirrels foraging and preparing for colder weather.

I nod towards a large grey one, and suck a drop of sugary cream off my finger. “Did you know they sometimes pretend to bury their nuts and seeds to fool other squirrels? Like, they dig a hole and drop the nut in, but really it’s still in their mouth, and then they go bury it somewhere else.” I’m rambling, I know, but suddenly I feel Sam’s sitting so close that my brain can barely function.

“You know so much weird shit, Y/N,” Sam says and stuffs the rest of his cone into his mouth like he has no worries in the whole world. How can he not know how he makes me go all gooey inside?

“Heh, yeah, I’m killing it on trivia nights.”

Smiling, Sam exhales through his nose. “I can’t remember the last time we did a quiz night. It’s gotta be years, right?”

Scrunching my eyes together, I try to remember, but I come up blank. “I think so. We don’t get much normal nights out, do we, Sam?”

“Nah. I guess… What do you think you’d do if… if you weren’t in the, uh, business, I mean?”

His voice is soft, and I imagine I can hear a whole lifetime of sadness in it. “I, uh, I don’t know,” I reply, clearing my throat to remove the sudden lump behind my uvula. “Just normal stuff, you know? Travel, I guess… I hope I’d still be writing. Maybe I’d publish a book or something. That would be cool. But I can’t really imagine having a regular job, you know?” I sigh, and stare down the path that disappears under the trees. “How about you?”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

I say, “me too,” and smile into my ice cream.

“No really, I mean it, Y/N.” His hand lands on top of mine, the one I rest on the bench seat, and he squeezes lightly. In my chest, my heart stops, and when I finally dare to look up, his eyes shine with something new. “If this is what I get… If I get to be with you, just this day, then… Life will be alright for forever this way.”

Standing up, he suddenly says, “follow me,” and we walk quickly towards the small hill over by the blackberry bushes – and I wonder if I just imagined the last five minutes.

When we pass the berries, and start half climbing up the rocky slope, I’m pretty convinced that my mind is playing tricks on me, but I can’t give up on that thought that something big is going to happen, that soon my life will be turned upside down. With my mind wandering, I place one foot after the other, the ground is wobbly, but the sun shines in our faces, so no one can blame me for not paying attention.

But then I step on a loose stone: I slip and fall, tumbling down a few yards. My foot feels weird, there’s a knobbly branch poking my back, and the world seems upside down indeed. Groaning, I try to feel my foot. It’s not broken. That’s good, at least. No, it’s nothing serious: just a bruised ankle, and an equally bruised pride.

“Oh shit, you okay?” Sam’s head appears over my face, a worried look in his eyes. He has come to get me, and everything is okay. Everything is okay.

I try to nod, but it’s weird when down is up and up is down, so I just smile. “Hhhh… yeah. Just got knocked about a little. I’m… I’m good.” Sitting up, I wince from the pain in my side, but it disappears when Sam offers me his hand and pull me up – and then don’t let go of me when I’m securely on my feet.

Hand in hand we climb to the top – and the view is breathtaking. We can see for forever from here: the vast, blue sky and the mountains and the small town behind us. I step up on a stone, maybe it’s to get a better look, or maybe it’s subconsciously, I don’t know, but blood rushes in my ears from knowing I’m here, with Sam, and we’re watching the sun over the trees and the soft pastels painting the sky. In any case, I don’t notice Sam watching me.

A cool breeze sends a ripple of goosebumps over my skin, and then I feel the warmth of his skin like a wall against my back, and I half turn to look what he’s doing, and his face is so close to mine I feel his breath fan over my lips as he leans in. The hair on my arms rise, and in my chest my heart is beating its rhythmic music, and right that moment – on that perfect afternoon – we’re both on the top of the world.

Tagging my for forever beautiful friends:

@awesomeahwu @brynleewolfe @funwithfanfics @babeinthebowtie @savingapplepie-eatingthings @winchesterprincessbride @savvythedork @littlegreenplasticsoldier @youtubehelpsmesurvive @blackcherrywhiskey @mrswhozeewhatsis @schwarzwaelder-kirschtorte @aiaranradnay @fandomismyspiritanimal @barneybrigade @mogaruke @wstrumpel @whovianextrodinare @hennessy0274-blog @sushi-senpai-chan @tardis-is-mine @badasssweetsrebel @jensensjaredsandmishaslover @megasimpleplan4ever @iamreadinginsecret

#sam x reader #sam winchester #supernatural fanfiction #reader insert #love #for forever #perfect afternoon #spn #fanfic #writing is hard

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