#like how's she gonna say love you back when anita's right there

[booasaur]

Perry Mason (2020) - 2x03

[be-my-ally]

We can't go on together (with suspicious minds) fic. 1.

first post! i've been working on a mini series of these, where the reader confronts Elvis about his other girls and his reaction to being called out. I think we're going to go for a classic and name the series Suspicious Minds? This is the first, completely inspired by that phonecall with anita, and the story from priscilla about Elvis' reaction to her divorce request.

Pairing: Elvis/afab!reader (I imagine BDE but I think you could probs picture whatever era you like)

Summary: Reader is upset at being forced to watch Elvis constantly touching and kissing other girls - his solution? fuck her until she doesn't care anymore.

warnings: 18+, blowjobs, sex, demanding!Elvis, jealous!Elvis, possessive!elvis, idk yandere? maybe a little? slight dubcon, especially in the second half. tiniest breeding kink. arguing as foreplay, references/allusions to infidelity, mention of pregnancy. Reader is definitely being manipulated here. Elvis is not being nice.

wc: 5.7k (this was meant to be under 2k whoops) I kind of hate the last couple of lines but if I didn't decide I was done there this was gonna go on forever so there we are!

The fact that Elvis kisses forty girls a night is neither here nor there, they are indiscriminate from one another and don’t mean anything - you know that. He simply has to kiss as many girls that he finds unattractive as much as those that catch his eye; although whenever he argues this point you’re uncertain if he truly knows how to be unattracted to a girl of any kind.  But you’ve so far taken it at face value - he was yours at the end of the night and you were in his bed, in his home, and honestly that’s all you cared about. You could let the other girls have their seven seconds with him.

You probably, at this point in your relationship, cared far too much about him but he made you feel like no-one else has ever done. You wonder sometimes if he even knows how love feels - or if he just truly has to be permanently in love to live, he says it so easily and freely. Regardless, you can’t help but believe him when he says he loves you. There’s just something about him, a strange magnetism or force that allows you to forgive and forget a lot more than you usually would. Constantly desperate for his approval when really he should be begging for yours. You’d beg him to pay attention, accuse him of being distant and he would somehow always turn it back onto you - “You’re just so damn needy,” and “I can’t just rush off to see you when you want, I’m a busy boy Darlin’,” until he became exasperated; “Lord, stop naggin’ me woman.” You accepted it, in a way you wouldn’t from anyone else - you simply argued your case as much as you could, hung up the phone, sobbed, and then ran to him gladly when he offered you any scrap of attention. Why didn’t he like you enough to listen if he claimed to love you?

It’s not the girls at the concerts you worry about, throwing themselves up at him, clawing at him - that display of unwomanly desire is as unattractive to him as can be, entertaining rather than arousing, and you know that for him it really is all about putting on a good, memorable show for the audience. It is as much a part of his stage personality and persona as his jumpsuits are; women and girls go to see Elvis expecting to come home kissed.

It’s the afterparty girls you find difficult. It’s when you see, from across the room or even from right beside them, his hand inching up their thigh; when their legs tangle together, or he pulls their feet on his wide spread thighs that you start to feel like its wrong. You mind it less if you’re not there to see it, and you can tell Elvis knows this too - judging from how often you’re sent home to Memphis, only called back to Vegas every few weeks. Whenever you talk on the phone you ask him about the other girls - if there are any, if there’s anyone special. He always denies it and reminds you over the phone that “I’ve only got eyes for you little darling.” But that “a man’s got needs mama” or even, “I’m a polite boy baby, I can’t just shove em offa me!” And you agree - he can’t exactly shove girls off of him, but maybe he could just…invite them over less?

 But really who knows what else he is supposed to do. It’s not like there’s a precedent for this, nor is he likely to listen to your suggestions. So you accept it all, simply as part of the price of being allowed to maintain rotation in his orbit. 

But still it’s hard. Especially when it’s been days since you last had the chance to really see him, or spend any time with him and he’s sat there lapping up the attention from these goddamn groupies like a sultan with his harem. You can’t help but go cold to his advances, giving him one word answers when he deigns to talk to you across the room. You can tell you’re annoying him, he hates to be publicly defied especially from one of his women - from his main woman, and you can tell he’s chewing his cheek by the clench of his jaw when you respond again in words of one syllable. As if to annoy you further you watch him shift in his seat, spreading his legs further apart, and laughing as he tips his head back in response to whatever blondie to the right of him says. It causes the fabric of his trousers to go taught, and his neck muscles tighten - veins appearing to tense. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and you close your eyes for a second. He’s unfairly attractive like this, in fact, he’s blinding to look at and you can’t help but shift your thighs together. 

When you open them he’s staring back at you. You inadvertently make eye contact and he winks. You forget for a second you’re angry at him, and can’t stop the heat rising up you. But then you watch his arm flex around the girl to the left of him and you regain your senses, looking away with a flick of your hair. You count to a hundred, pretending to keep the conversation up with Jerry while you wait to glance over again. When you look over again he’s whispering in her ear, and you can’t help but glare. He seems to sense you, and looks over her cheek to you. He leans back and nods to his dressing room door.  You purposefully ignore him, turning back once again to Jerry. A second later you can hear movement behind you and Elvis’ voice rises above the noise of the conversations around you; “I’m sorry sugar, but I’ve got some business to see to.” Your ears are attuned to him, and you have no idea what the conversation you’re in is anymore, listening to hear what this business was and trying to judge from the sounds what his movements are from behind your back. A second later you don’t have to try and guess as his hand touches your elbow, 

“Come on now darlin’ lemme borrow you for a sec.” You look at his hand on your elbow and your eyes narrow at him, but he’s looking at you like he’s daring you to say something, playfully half expecting you to make a scene. But that’s not your style and he knows it. You flick your head back around to Jerry and Charlie and say, 

“Sorry guys, the ‘King’ called.” You add a sarcastic edge to your words and playfully roll your eyes. You turn around to head towards his dressing room and jump as Elvis’ hand connects with your ass - propelling you forward, he walks you towards the door laughing as the boys behind continue their conversation as if you were never there. 

You pull away from him as soon as you’re on the other side of the door and look at him affronted when he shuts the door with a definitive click and turns around, practically leering at you and rubbing himself over his trousers. 

“Oh, you must be joking.” You scoff, you can’t deny you’re almost always turned on around him, but you do have some level of self respect. 

“Come on now baby, don’t be like that, thought you’d wanna help me out?” He pleads, looking at you hopefully. 

“That fuckin’ groupie gets you all riled up and i’ve gotta be the one to deal with it.” You roll your eyes again, crossing your arms over your chest. He frowns, 

“Well - if it’s such a chore don’t fucking bother.” He shrugs, and looks down at himself, “I’ll just….deal with it myself.” He rubs again before untucking himself from his trousers - his cock jumps when it hits the slightly chilly air, and you can see his foreskin tighten a little in response. He licks his palm ready to get himself going but pauses before he touches himself. He looks down, looking like a kicked puppy, “Never thought you’d wanna leave me like this though little mama,” he touches himself once, twice, starting to peel back his foreskin from his head, “please baby, help me out?” He’s talking in that utterly stupid baby voice of his, and even before the question is fully out of his mouth you know you’re going to give in, that you can’t resist him. 

He practically whimpers a further. “Please baby? Please!” and you know you’ve had it. You’re incapable of denying him any further. You move as if he’s got you on strings, dropping to your knees in front of him. You can feel your wetness start to form - the response to this position is pavlovian at this point. You nod once, 

“Fine. But only because you asked so nicely.” He looks down at you and winks, starting to gather up your hair in his hands to hold it away from your neck and face. He brushes a finger down your cheek and taps it against your lips, 

“As if you had a choice.” Despite the slightly sinister statement you can’t help but find his confidence endearing and you giggle, already feeling better now that he had you alone. Proof that he chose you. 

He’s always gentle at first, allowing you to lap at him, tiny kitten licks as you gaze up. This time is no different, you feel like you’ve been there for half hour, although its probably closer to three or four minutes by the time he starts to insistently push his head against your lips. He lets you control the pace for the moment and you obediently bob up and down on him. He looks down at you, his lips are in a little pouty grimace, and his pupils enlarged so that the clear blue of his eyes is barely visible. He’s clearly losing the battle at staying hands off, and this is even more true when a moment later you feel his grip on your hair tighten. He pulls you further, causing you to choke slightly before you adjust to the deeper motion and it doesn’t take long before he’s completely controlling the pace and depth. 

He speeds up, his eyes slightly manic as he thrusts forward, fucking into your mouth even deeper and remaining deeper to match his quicker timing. He drops your hair and with one hand he holds the back of your head, while the other creeps around your shoulders and neck to rest on the base of your throat, his fingers gently wrapping around. He pulls you all the way off, and a trail of drool connects you before you lick your lips, his precum and your spit mixing into a bitter tasting foam. He nods at you and you take a deep breath, allowing him to pull you forward once more. You hollow your cheeks, and use all the techniques you have, swirling your tongue and humming, and it doesn’t take long before he’s pulling you tighter, harder and quicker, and after that barely any time at all his hips stutter and he’s releasing down your throat, his fingers stroking where he can feel you gulping it down. 

“That’s it. That’s my good girl.” 

He leaves you there, he’s normally very generous - but today he doesn’t even order you to touch yourself. It feels like he’s proving a point, that he gives you what you get. That you’re no different to him using the other girls who get him hard. There just for him to use you, get off. You feel frustrated, and hurt, and a tiny bit like a groupie or whore yourself. But, then he’s sweet as can be the next day - showing you off to reporters, planning a trip to Hawaii together and while you still feel slight unease at how you’ve been treated, you otherwise quickly forgive and forget. 

 ——- 

There’s a party at Graceland tonight, you’ve barely seen him and you huff as you fetch yourself another drink. He’s ‘holding court’ in the music room, playing to other’s requests when you head back to the kitchen. By the time you return he’s sat on that impossibly long sofa laughing and talking with the boys and girls on either side of him and mingling around the room. There’s nowhere for you to sit and you consider the floor for a second - but quickly realise that the place that puts you out of the way of people would put you directly at his feet. You hope he looks over at you, pushes the girl off who’s sat next to him to make room for you. But he doesn’t - instead you watch him lean over to whisper in her ear. You’re openly staring from the doorway now, as he cups her cheek and pulls her in for a kiss.. There’s raucous laughter in response from everyone else, and from the angle - when he opens his eyes mid-kiss -  you make eye contact. He doesn’t even flinch when he notices you. He pulls back and pats the top of her head, she grins - clearly satisfied with herself - and he heaves himself up. Whether to go to you, or just to head out of the room in general you don’t know - by the time he’s stood up you’ve stormed out. 

You take a few deep breaths in the slightly chilly outside air, and walk far enough away that you can look back upon the house. It’s shimmering slightly from the heat within, the windows are steamed up from the volume of people and you can see little plumes of smoke from the sheer number of cigarettes and cigars being consumed escaping into the night whenever the door gets open and closed. You’re not sure why it’s getting to you so much, but it’s like he’s trying to prove a point at the moment and you just have to accept it or find your limit.  You can’t help but let a few tears escape, it’s humiliating, to be treated like that in Vegas or on the road is bad enough but in your own home is almost too much to bear. But maybe that’s the point - it’s not yours really, it’s his and you’re not your own person anymore, you’re his. You stand out there until you can feel a chill setting in and head back inside, slipping upstairs and past the groups of people without saying goodbye, and climbing into bed. 

You don’t sleep, on edge waiting for him to come up, but you do feel yourself drowsing. When he does come up he ignores your body in bed in favour of the ensuite and by the time he reappears in his pyjamas you’re drowsing again. He slides in behind you and you almost inaudibly huff as he drapes an arm over your midriff, tucking a leg over yours. You huff louder, and pull away, turning around from him to face the other side of the bed. He tries to push up your nightgown and stroke your back but you reach your arm around to bat his hand away, you’re certainly not in the mood tonight. Not after his behaviour. “No Elvis. Not tonight. Not after you’ve had those girls all over you.” He pulls away and huffs. 

 “Come on darling, you’re being a bitch.” You roll over and pretend to be asleep. He ignores you.

The next morning you wake up and he’s gone but in his place, on his side of the bed, is a huge box. This isn’t rare - he often bought you presents, or left you clothing to be worn and normally you loved it. It wasn’t even because of the materialism of being bought the pretty things - the dresses and the jewellery; the shoes and the lingerie but rather the possession of it. Owning things he picked out for you with every expectation that you would, of course, be wearing it when he next saw you. Normally this gave you a thrill -  he didn’t even need to write it on a note anymore. It was just understood that you would, when such a box appeared, be bedecked in an outfit that would loudly proclaim you as histo those in the know, if not the world. His flashy, expensive but very specific fashionable and feminine style obvious to everyone who knows him. You peek inside the box to see a flash of green sparkly knit fabric and a red jewellery box resting on top, undoubtedly containing something absurdly over the top and expensive that he expects to see you in. Not this time though. This time the dress can stay in the fucking box it arrived in and you’re going to wear your jeans and a top you bought all on your lonesome. You’re not even going to look at whats in the red box. You feel outraged that he thinks you’d simply forgive and forget his behaviour the night before because he bought you a present. It's even more humiliating than being so publicly embarrassed; the implication that you can be bought so easily. 

You storm out of the bedroom once you’re dressed and your hair is brushed - it’s not styled, which would usually irk you (and him) but you’re honestly too riled up to care. The time for calm is over and you feel like you’ve been pushed to the edge too many times now. You burst into the den, the door slamming open, furious that you feel so out of control. So unlike yourself.

“El you can’t treat me like dirt and then try to buy me off.” He’s cut off in the middle of a take of a song. You can hear the recorder still whirring - that’s going on the tape forever. You’ll make them destroy this copy later, (or Elvis himself will you’re sure) he’s obsessive about keeping everything possible but its unlikely he’d want evidence of his lack of control of you here. The boys all turn to stare, their instruments faltering to a halt and Elvis spins around, before he’s even facing you you can tell he’s utterly furious. He’s practically shaking. 

“-Get the fuck outta here!” He roars, pointing at the door; “fuckin’ hell what do you think you’re playing at?” he tugs at his hair in frustration and you cross your arms. If you leave now and he doesn’t follow you’ll lose what nerve you have. You can only imagine how you’d end up regretting your outburst, simpering apologies to him later if you left now. 

“No.” You actually stamp a foot, and your brain is going fifty miles a second trying to regain your dignity, “No Elvis I won’t. I want you to listen to me.” He puffs out a short breath and starts to stalk towards you. Charlie puts his hand out onto his forearm, perhaps anticipating that with his temper and fury so high he might do something he’d later regret. But he’s unwilling to physically hold him back, and Elvis simply shakes his head at him and shrugs him off instead rushing forward and clutching the top of your arm. 

“Turn that recording off!” He shouts as you struggle against him pulling you towards the door. 

“Elvis! Let me go! Let go of me!” He uses your momentum of your struggle against him to almost trip you over, catching you across the waist and lifting you bodily out of the room. You continue to struggle, thrashing about in his arms as he lifts you up the stairs into the kitchen. He practically drops you when you reach the empty room and you attempt to jump away from him but he holds you steady with that same grip on your upper arm, swapping over to hold your wrist. He practically growls at you; 

“Let’s go baby.” He drags you upstairs to his bedroom, despite your protestations, and slams the door behind himself. 

“I ain’t about to have it out with you with all the boys lookin’ on in, like I can’t control my goddamn woman.” He leans in to sharply whisper at you and you laugh cruelly, finally managing to pull away.

“Maybe thats because you don’t have a woman to control Elvis. I ain’t been your woman in a long time! How can I be if you’re away all the time doing god knows what with god knows who! Or even being here and doing it!” His chest is heaving as he takes in your outburst. He presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose. 

“Little girl, I’m not having the same argument with you twenty times over. We’ve already had this discussion and you’re really turning me the fuck up about it. I’ve got needs. I don’t know what you want me to say mama.” He’s clearly annoyed, but still trying to come across earnest - as if he doesn’t understand what’s angered you so much. 

“I want you to say that you actually give a damn Elvis. That you give a damn about me. About how I feel about it. About how if you promise me there ain’t another girl that there ain’t another girl that the boys are whispering about.” He rolls his eyes at you. 

“You’re not around all the time baby; I don’t know what you want me to say to you - I love you. That should be enough; why isn’t it enough for you? There ain’t no one I’d rather be with, it just ain’t always possible mama.” You absolutely can’t stand the glow that you immediately feel as he professes his love for you and it spikes your anger once again - since it comes attached to absolutely no attempt to deny his sheer infidelity.  

“Well, you’re not around either, and it’s not a choice I make to not be there for you. Maybe I should do like you do - after all ain’t a woman got needs too?” You placed your hand on your hips, chest heaving at the volume you’d not realised you’d reached.

“Don’t you dare lil’ girl, I told you there wasn’t anyone else. Don’t threaten me like that. You won’t like what you get back.” He tuts and shakes his head, and you’ve no idea where your sudden boldness comes from;

“What? Afraid I’ll like them more?”

He roars at you, throwing himself at you, pulling your hands up. He shoves his lips on yours and you have no choice but to acquiesce to his tongue’s insistent demands that you open your mouth. He growls against your neck; 

“I’m gonna make you see right now. Gotta show you, you belong to me lil mama. To me.” He pushes you down to your knees and it barely occurs to you to struggle. He’s gathering your hair in his hands - pulling it away from your face as you realise the argument’s clearly made him hard - the bulge in his trousers evident from your close angle. He pulls your head back with his grip on your hair and his other hand trails down your cheek to your neck, his fingers stretching around it. Just a presence there. You look up at him with wide eyes and a flushed face and he stares down at you. 

“You’re gonna ‘pologise to me for messin’ with my work. And for accusing me of all that shit and you’re gonna do it right now.” Your mind is gone, his eyes somehow holding you captive and all you can do is nod. “Right then, get little Elvis out baby and get to it.” He nods down at you and you quickly grasp his meaning, your fingers shaking as you fumble through unbuttoning his trousers. He is, like usual, not wearing any boxers so there’s no other fabric barrier that you have to get to before you’re able to pull his cock out. He pulls you by your ponytail and you immediately kiss the head, licking the tip and down in long stripes. He allows this for a moment before taking the hand from around your throat to slap his dick against your cheek - before insistently nudging it against your lips. The moment it’s in your mouth he pulls you down on him, barely giving you time to catch your breath. He’s rougher than he usually is right from the start and it's a struggle to keep up. 

You’re a mess of day old mascara and tears from your eyes watering, and spit and drool when he pulls out. Pulling you off of him entirely. He crouches in front of you and wipes at your face with his thumbs on each cheek before he pushes you backwards, although he supports your fall back with a hand under your neck - lowering you completely to the floor. He moves quickly to unbutton your jeans, tugging them down impatiently. It doesn’t occur to you to struggle, and while a little part of your brain is shouting at you to stop being stupid, that you’re losing the argument, that this wasn’t what you wanted to happen, a larger part can’t get over how good he looks in this moment - nor the anticipation of what you’re sure is going to be some pretty spectacular sex. “I hate you in these, baby.” You smile. That’s why you wore them. 

“Oh,” He smirks back at you. “I get it. Tryin’ to prove a point huh?” He grasps the legs as they unroll past your ankles and yanks. You hear the tearing as they split straight down the seam. “Point made Darlin.” He’s infuriating. He pushes your panties to the side and circles your clit, rubbing down before pushing into the pooling wetness. He slides in one finger, and it slips straight in so he immediately pulls it out to add a second. He pumps them a couple of times, crooking his finger in just the right spot to make you jump around him, your hips grinding of their own accord. You whine when he pulls them out, shoving them into your mouth and he drags you back closer to him. His other hand steadying his dick and he slips his other out of your mouth to better support his body. He pushes in, you’re wet as anything but barely stretched and you can feel every inch of him as he pushes into you. He stills for a second as he bottoms out, and you shiver around him. He looks back at you, his eyes blazing and his hair flopping forward, out from where it was so carefully slicked back. He’s still mostly dressed and it feels so wrong to be able to feel his slacks and open shirt resting against your naked skin but you forget all about this when he pulls you almost all the way off and slams you back down. He thrusts like this once, twice and the noises that come out of your mouth are obscene, your eyes rolling back. “That’s r-right my t-t-tight lil woman,” he stills for a second to kiss you and you clutch at his shoulders for balance as you try to get closer to him. He tugs at your lip before working his way down, sucking onto your collarbone. The heat is building in you, and you can feel it in your thighs, your pulse jumping, but his slow rocking motion isn’t enough to get you properly close; 

“El-Elvis, baby, baby, need you, need you to move.” You stutter out and feel his smirk against your neck. He then, if you didn’t know better, seems to lose control - his hips rocking in his signature way, as he fucks into you rapidly back and forth. 

His bedroom carpet is plush and expensive but still isn’t particularly comfortable to be rocked against as your t-shirt rolls up but he seems completely uncaring to the comfort of your skin being rubbed raw, focussed on his fingers getting you off and fucking into you as deep as he can get. You claw into the carpet as he makes your back arch in pleasure as he pulls away and drags you back onto him. You can feel the bruises forming in the shape of his fingertips on your hips. 

He’s out of breath with the exertion of the act and you can feel the sweat and heat coming off of him, as he thrusts so deeply it makes you choke as your head rocks forward. He lets out a breathless huff of laughter in response; 

“That’s right darlin’ gonna make you feel it.” You moan, and he continues, “Only way to get it through that thick skull of yours is fucking it into you.” He slams into you, and you shake as the words and his motions push you over the cliff. He continues talking but you can barely hear him over the ringing in your ears, and the noises coming out of your own mouth as you ride out the wave - his fingers and cock moving in the exact same way to coax you through it. He removes his hand and you feel like you can breathe again as you feel everything pulse around your core. He grips your thighs, “No-one else could fuck you like this, make you take it like this.” He punctuates his point with a rotation of his hips, pushing into you as much as he can - deeply rocking you, and you can feel his head knocking against your walls. You tremble, overstimulated from your brief orgasm a moment ago but still on the edge, “You think anyone else could make you feel like this?”

You rapidly shake your head, stuttering out a response, “No, no, nn-o.” He lets out a breathy, tiny gruff chuckle, 

“No you’re damn right baby. They couldn’t.” You moan, can’t help yourself and you feel him jump inside you, 

“Gonna knock you up darling, gonna make you mine forever.” and his hips stutter as you feel the pulse of his cum inside. You’re shocked at his announcement, but you feel yourself twitch in response and he goes to touch you again, feeling where the two of you join, his cock still inside, sliding his fingers up and down, and that’s apparently enough to send you over the edge again. When you come to he’s slipping his cock out of you, although he remains leaning over you to talk in your ear; 

“You interrupt me workin’ again doll, with shit like this, and you’re out. You understand me girlie?” You nod again, it’s like you’ve been struck cock dumb - you can barely even remember what you were annoyed with him about. He rubs your stomach and places a light kiss on your neck, he murmurs against your skin; “You can’t be jealous if I’ve given you somethin’ no one else has.”  He pulls away from you and redresses himself - well, pulls up his trousers and rebuttons his shirt. You lie there, panting, on the floor feeling his seed trickle out of you. He holds out a hand to you and it seems to take a lot of effort to take it, but you grasp his hand and he pulls you up in one tug. He holds you close and kisses you hard on the mouth, “Put  your present on,“ he glances to the box on the bed, and you nod, “Knocked some goddamn sense into ya now, haven’t I.” He declares it proudly, satisfied that you seem to be meek in agreement with him, and you smile back at him unable to even deny that his fucking you has caused you to agree with him. You turn away from him to head into the bathroom, clean yourself up a little and you can finally talk again as you go, your voice scratchy, “Don’t worry Elvis baby, I ain’t all amped up still.” You can practically feel him smile. 

“That’s good, honey, that’s real good.” He pauses, “If you can behave yourself you can come and join us, if you like, after you get yourself touched up.” You’re inspecting yourself in the mirror, responding with forced casualness, 

“Course!” As you assess your body, still flushed and littered with tiny bruises, you crane around to look at your back and wince at the carpet burn evident there. You shake your head, what a ridiculous thing to have done, when the bed was right there. You hear him leave and take a shaky breath in - how are you gonna sort your hair from this clearly debauched state. You glance down, looking at his fingerprints on your hips and sides, and consider your stomach for a moment. You wonder if he truly has, in his anger, joined you together for eternity. It’s not the first time it’s happened, but on every other occasion he’s ensured you’ve taken every precaution, short of abortion. Should you douche? You jump suddenly as you hear him sprinting back into the room, as if he could hear your thoughts he bursts into the bathroom. 

“Forgot to say mama,” He pauses and jabs his pointer finger at you, “you let that baby stick. It’s the only way to prove it to you. You let it be.”  You start to protest,

“Honey, sweetheart, do you…do you really think we should be doing this? That we should?” 

“You sayin’ you don’t want my baby, Sugar?” You lock eyes with him in the mirror and rapidly shake your head, 

“No-no-no! No! Elvis, No! Of course I do! I just, is this the way it should be done?” He laughs, 

“I don’t see how it makes the slightest bit of difference, we’ll have to go again, later, make sure - don’t see how we can tell which does the trick. Just that it’s done.” You turn to look at him properly, 

“We-ell ok then Elvie baby, let’s do it.”  

Later that night, when you’re sat watching a girl practically climb into his lap you feel a surge of pride - he glances over at you and winks - and you think, that's right have him for the second, but I’ve got what you really want; him all the time and his baby in my belly.

[pepperf]

Diego/Lila appreciation week

@brellygifs is hosting [insert ship here] appreciation week, starting today - so of course I have to post about my blorbos!

Day 1: Diego day

It's late and I'm tired, so I'm just gonna give you a headcanon I've got floating around about Diego and houseplants:

Grace buys him a plant when he moves into the gym and tells her he's got an apartment now. Just a low-maintenance thing, a spider plant or something. He doesn't have much light, but he's got just enough for one plant, so he puts it in the window, and makes a note on how often Grace tells him it needs to be watered.

And it starts off well! He's good with routine, he diligently waters it just the right amount, on a regular basis. Plants love routine, and it settles happily into its spot. It's healthy! It's thriving! He talks to it sometimes, a little self-consciously. He's given it a name, in his head, but won't say it out loud in case anyone overhears.

He finds it reassuring that he can do this one thing right. He CAN keep a plant alive, suck it Allison!

And then he gets arrested for vigilantism and spends a month in jail, and when he comes back it's dessicated and dead. He throws the corpse in the garbage, with the expired milk and eggs and the carrots that are rather TOO full of life, and silently vows never to get another plant.

(A decade later, Anita drags him over to a pathetic, dying plant in the supermarket and orders him to save it, and he’s like, I can't do that, I'm no good with plants, I’ll just kill it faster, baby. But she’s determined, and of course he caves. And it blooms.)

[auxiliarydetective]

Love and War, Chapter 9

Foxholes

i. | ii. | iii. | iv. | v. | vi. | vii. | viii. | ix. | x. | xi. | xii. | xiii.

AO3

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When people talked about the worst times of the war, lots of times, the name that was called was Bastogne. How the soldiers had spent weeks in their foxholes with little supplies, little gear, little movement. Maybe, if Anita had been a soldier, she would have agreed. But she wasn’t. Yes, she had lost her squad at Bastogne. She had lost one of her best friends. But Bastogne had only been there to prepare her for what was to come at Foy. First Tessa, then Hoobler… and then Bill Guarnere and Joe Toye. While Tessa’s lifeless body had kept Anita awake for a night, the images from that day haunted her even in her sleep. But it wasn’t the last time her heart would shatter.

It had been a fairly mild evening for the Ardennes winter and a calm one at that, so calm that, after dinner, Anita hadn’t had to immediately crawl back into a foxhole. Instead, she was chatting with Muck, Penkala, Luz and Don between the trees. Luz, his usual jester self, was entertaining the group and looking joyous as ever while doing it. This time, he had a story to tell about Lieutenant Dike during one of the last shellings.

“It’s unbelievable," he said. “You might not believe it. So: You-know-who comes running up to Lipton. He’s got no helmet, no gear, no nothin’.” Then, he once again started one of his imitations. His impression of Dike was spot-on. “Uh, First Sergeant Lipton, you organize things here and I’m gonna go for… help.”

Anita grinned widely. Poor Foxhole Norman. In over his head. She felt a little bad laughing about him. But laughing was the best thing to do right now. Why not relish every last bit of joy they got?

“I need to polish my oak leaf clusters.”

“Hey, Luz," Lipton called.

He had approached the group from behind the trees. Maybe there was something important to discuss. Or maybe this was just the sign for their little group to disperse. So, everyone said goodbye for the night and headed off in different directions. Luz and Lipton in one, Muck and Penkala in another and Don and Anita in a third.

“What a lovely night," Don said, taking Anita’s hand as they walked. “Even lovelier to spend it with a beautiful lady like you.”

“What a charmer," Anita chuckled. “You’re right, it really is lovely. You can see the stars. Look, I think that’s Orion.”

“Yeah. And look, there, the big dipper.”

“It’s almost funny. Thousands of miles from home and the stars are still the same.”

They paused for a while, looking up at the skies above.

“Hey, Annie," Don said slowly, “once this is all over, how would you like to visit Oregon?”

“You mean come home with you?”

“Yeah, I, uh," Don stammered, “I didn’t wanna say it like that, but yeah.”

“Why shouldn’t you say it?” Anita questioned squeezing his hand.

Don froze for a second. He looked flustered, with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, though maybe they were just red from the cold. Anita loved seeing him like this. It was adorable. He was just like the day she had first met him, with those kind, lively eyes. “Well, because… you know, it sounds almost like a proposal and, uh, we’re not even together yet.”

“Well, would you like to be?”

“Huh?”

“You heard me. Donald Malarkey, would you like to be my boyfriend?”

Don beamed, a sparkle in his eyes that travelled over to Anita, making her feel all warm and fuzzy. What had she done to deserve him?

“Yeah!” Don grinned. “Absolutely, yeah!”

“You know, I’ve been waiting for you to ask me for a while now," Anita remarked cheekily. “Figured I might as well take matters into my own hands.”

That made it sound like she had been planning to ask him for a long time. But really, this had been an impulse decision. If there was one thing Anita had learned out in the Ardennes, it was to think less. To trust her instincts. She knew, deep down, had known for a while now, that Don was the one for her. Between shattered trees, Don took both her hands and pulled her into a kiss, a kiss sweet as sugar.

A loud bang stopped the moment abruptly. Immediately, Don yanked Anita forward, running through the snow. Another barrage. Why did it always happen at the worst time? Then again, there was never a good time. They found an empty foxhole and hurled themselves into it, bodies pressed against each other as the world around them was shaken by artillery shells. It was almost like this was the worst one yet. Blazes of light flickered in the night, so bad that they had to close their eyes to not go insane. When the barrage finally stopped, they stayed curled up together, feeling each other’s breathing, listening to each other’s heartbeat. Only very slowly, they moved apart again.

A figure moved closer through the trees. Only when it had gotten within a few feet did Anita recognize who it was: It was Lipton.

“Hey," he said somberly, squatting down next to the foxhole. “Malark?”

“Hey, Lip," Don replied, the hint of a smile on his lips. “That was a doozy, huh? Seems like the Germans are angry today.”

“Yeah… Listen… Muck and Penkala got hit. They didn’t make it.”

Anita’s eyes widened. Immediately, she looked over at Don. All the life had faded out of his eyes. It was like you could see the shattered pieces of his heart through them.

“Do you want to see their foxhole?”

Don nodded jerkily. He scrambled up from the ground like a rusty marionette. That was really the best way to put it, despite the fact that marionettes, being made of wood, couldn’t rust. But just like that, Anita had never thought she would see Don like this. Quickly, she got up and followed him and Lipton. She caught up with them and took Don’s hand, rubbing her thumb across his skin. He looked at her, though only through the corner of his eye, and without feeling.

When they reached the foxhole, it was barely recognizable as one anymore. Just a hole of dirt where the shell had hit. But what was even harder to imagine was that there had been humans in there. There was nothing left of them. Only a piece of Skip’s rosary that Don would carry with him for the rest of the war, the rest of his life even.

After that, Don wasn’t the same anymore. He wouldn't eat, hardly move, just sit around in silence staring at the rosary. Anita would sit with him, hoping it would give him some sort of comfort. As they sat there, together, Don would pull her close as if trying to convince himself she was still there, alive, real.

“Hey, Annie," Don spoke into the silence, rosary in one hand, the other wrapped around Anita’s waist.

“Yes?” Anita replied, looking at him with a spark of hope in her eyes.

“You’ve got to promise me that you won’t die. Alright?”

“I promise," Anita said. She had no control over it. Both of them knew. But she wanted to give him a sense of security. At least a little bit.

“Stay away from anything dangerous. Don’t go wandering around in the woods, stay in a foxhole if you can, just… Please, don’t put yourself in danger.”

“I won’t.” Not if I can avoid it.

“And… if you can… stay with me, okay? I like to know you’re here. I, uh, I need you here.”

“Of course.”

It was easier said than done. How was Anita supposed to keep those promises? There was no safe place for her to be. If anything, it might be further back, where she always went to cook food for the men. Or maybe with Captain Winters, back at Battalion CP. Well, there was also the aid station, but she was no nurse. This time, she hoped, the aid station would stay intact. It was in an open field, not in a city, made of tents, not in a building. The large red cross on its roof made it identifiable from the air. Hopefully, the Germans weren’t barbaric enough to have it bombed. Anita still made herself believe that the aid station being hit during the bombing of Bastogne had been a mistake. The Germans hadn’t known that that church had been an aid station. Deep down, Anita couldn’t shake off giving humanity to the Germans. There were people like Liebgott who saw them as nothing but barbarians and monsters and frankly, she found herself sometimes thinking that too. But they had to still be human, right? Lots of those soldiers had to be drafted, had to not want to be there. She was strengthened in that belief by the story Don had told of the German soldier he had met shortly after D-Day. Not all of those people down there in Foy, in the tanks, firing their guns could be monsters.

Later that day, Easy was back to its old position and Don and Anita sat in a foxhole, staring out at Foy beyond the trees. One day, Easy would have to run into that town and take it. Anita dreaded that day. She knew a lot less about combat than the soldiers did, but enough that, with Lieutenant Dike leading the attack, it could end badly. That was when First Sergeant Lipton approached them. Anita was already expecting him to announce the attack on Foy. But he didn’t.

“Hey, Malark," he said. “Hey, uh, didn’t I hear you say you wanted to bring home a luger for your kid brother?”

Don looked up at him with widened eyes, just a little life returning to them.

“Yeah…”

Lipton reached into one of the pockets of his jacket.

“Why don’t you, uh, why don’t you give him that?”

So that was what a luger looked like. Anita had seen pictures but never the real thing. An angled grip with a circular trigger guard, a rather boxy barrel and a long, thin muzzle. A weapon just like this had killed Donald Hoobler and now, it was in Don’s hands.

“It’s Hoob’s, right?” Don asked. It seemed he had had the same train of thought.

“Yeah," Lipton said. “I… I was gonna get rid of it, but… I don’t know. … Listen," he continued, changing the subject. “Captain Winters was wondering if you wanted to go back to Battalion and work as his runner for a few days.”

Get off the line, a change of pace, motion, different scenery. Maybe it would take his mind off things. But Don shook his head.

“Tell him thanks," he said. “Imma stay here.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he gazed at Anita. She was halfway expecting him to suggest her instead, to get her to the closest thing to safety. But he didn’t. After all, he still knew Anita’s wishes to be at the frontline and he still respected them, despite the danger, despite how much he worried.

“Well, look, why don’t you at least come back for an hour or so?” Lipton suggested. “Say goodbye to Buck. I’m sure it’ll mean a lot to him.”

“Alright," Don agreed. His eyes had gone back to the luger. It had an eerie fascination on him, Anita thought.

“You be careful with that," Lipton told him. Then he left.

For a while, Don and Anita sat in silence. Anita watched Don admire the luger, turn it in his hands, inspect it from all sides, sometimes hold it up in front of him as if to fire. With each and every second he held it, Anita’s anxiety grew.

“Hey, Don," she finally said, “could you do me a favour?”

“Yeah, what is it?” Don replied, finally looking up from the gun.

“Could you take out the magazine and give me the bullets? They’d be safe with me, they’d be the only bullets I have. No chance of me accidentally using or losing them.”

“You don’t trust it. You think it’ll go off.”

“Can you blame me? It’s happened before, I don’t want it to happen again. I want to at least know that, if it does go off, there’s no way you can get hurt.”

“Alright.”

So, Don took out the magazine. Six bullets. It looked like the magazine could hold eight. At least one other had killed Hoobler. As Anita held the bullets in her hand, she felt a sort of security. Now, it was made sure that another couldn’t hurt Don. At least in that regard, he was safe. She put the bullets into a small pouch within her bag, one that was usually meant to hold items like keys or coins in more domestic environments.

“Well, I’d better go say goodbye to Buck," Don said and got up.

Anita nodded. “Give him my best wishes.”

Despite the world-shaking incident that was the death of Muck and Penkala, the war continued. War didn’t care about personal losses, saw soldiers only for their manpower. But the soldiers themselves cared. Anita cared. She felt her shattered heart ache every time she saw Don sitting there with the rosary, every time he relapsed to that empty stare the death of his friends had taught him. Only a few days later, the dreaded attack on Foy came knocking on Easy Company’s door. Well, surely the men didn’t dread it, but Anita did. Or maybe they did, too. From the moment the attack was announced, Anita noticed changes in the men’s behaviour. They were tense. Very quickly, she found out why: None of them wanted to follow Lieutenant Dike into battle. Nonetheless, they would have to.

From the moment the men started taking their positions, Anita felt like an electrical current was running through her. Don took her hand and kissed her forehead. Both of them knew exactly why, though neither of them wanted to name it. For a while, Anita stayed behind at the tent where she made the meals, leaning against a tree. She felt cold. Cold, not only physically, but emotionally. It felt like shivers ran across her heart. Meanwhile, her mind felt like a carousel. When she heard machine guns in the distance, she knew it had begun. She tried to keep herself as calm as possible, told herself that the men would do their job and do it well, like they always had, but her mind was stuck beyond the trees, out on the battlefield. After a while, she couldn’t take it anymore. She got out of the foxhole and started walking towards the gunfire. Of course, she wasn’t going to go into battle. She had promised Don she would stay out of trouble. But god damn it, she needed to see it. It was like back at Aldbourne, only worse, because she was so tantalizingly close but completely powerless. The least she could do was get a look at what was going on.

At the edge of the forest, soldiers knelt in the snow. Another company, waiting, in reserve. In front of them, Captain Winters, Captain Nixon and Colonel Sink stood, overlooking the situation. For a few moments, Anita stood at the back, staring out at Foy in the distance. But what was that? Nobody was moving. Behind some hut-shaped hay bales covered in snow, soldiers that had to belong to Easy were huddled together like sardines. It was then that Anita got the feeling that something was going horribly wrong. Without thinking, she walked forward. She came to a halt next to Nixon who held a pair of binoculars to his eyes. When he put them down, he spotted her through the corner of his eye. For a moment he was perplexed, but then he sighed.

“Worried?” he asked quietly.

“Yes," Anita whispered. “What’s going on?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”

“You better get Dike on that radio to me now," Winters barked into a radio.

Anita had never seen him like this. He was completely tense and seemingly furious.

“Dike must’ve told the men to fall back against Dick’s orders," Nixon continued. “They were supposed to go in before the Germans could get their mortars and artillery ready but now, they’re sitting ducks.”

“My god," Anita murmured.

She felt Colonel Sink eyeing her, but her gaze was fixated on the men in the distance, her ears ringing with gunfire.

“Get going forward!” Winters yelled.

A runner had gotten from the hay bales to a building with another group of soldiers. Another had gotten shot down. Now, some movement got into the group behind the house. Three of them broke off from the group and started running for some cover further into the city but one of them immediately got shot. Machine gun fire flared up in the clocktower of the town’s church. Whenever someone tried to move, they only got two steps forward before dying or having to take cover again.

“You have to keep moving!” Winters shouted desperately. His heart carrying him, he ran forward towards the edge of the woods, towards the battlefield.

“Dick!” Nixon called and followed him. “Dick!”

“Captain Winters!” Colonel Sink yelled. “God dammit, you do not go out there! You’re the battalion commander, now get back here!”

Anita felt like she was about to explode from all the scurrying under her skin. She knew next to nothing about battles, but the yells of Captain Winters, the gunfire and the images before her made her feel like she was among those men, sitting ducks, waiting to get killed. She desperately hoped that none of her friends were among the men already dead in the snow.

Silently cursing himself, Winters turned around. Anita could see the conflict in his eyes, his feelings shaking him.

“I understand your attachment to Easy Company," Sink said, “but- “

“SPEIRS!” Winters shouted over his superior officer. “Get yourself over here!”

Speirs, the CO of D Company, dutifully came running. He was a legend. Even Anita had heard of him.

“Get out there and relieve Dike and take that attack on end.”

Speirs followed these orders without a word. Anita watched him reach the men behind the hay bales, attaching her last bits of hope to him. If Captain Winters couldn’t go out there and do it, he would have to lead Easy to victory or at least to safety. If anyone could, it was him. Despite the horrifying stories that had been told about him, there were also ones of heroism, of leadership quality, and those were the ones that Anita clung to now. Finally, movement came into the group. She could spot the men preparing to fire mortars. The shell hit a building in the city. As soon as the explosion flared up, Easy started running. Anita’s heart jumped, she felt like she was among them, felt with them on every step. But one man stayed behind, right where everyone had been huddled. A single man sat in the snow, motionless.

“Is that-?” Anita whispered.

“Dike," Nixon confirmed, binoculars to his eyes.

“Reed," Winters said sharply. The anger in his eyes made a shiver run down Anita’s spine. His eyes weren’t kind anymore, they were harsh and menacing. He would tell her off, wouldn’t he? “Go over there and get Dike to me now.”

“Yes, sir," Anita said, trying to hide how perplexed she was.

As she started running, she couldn’t help but think of her promise to Don. But what use was it? An order was an order. Deep down, she felt proud to receive one like this. “Stay away from combat situations," they had told her, and now here she was. Essentially a runner. Inside her, she felt the same contempt for Dike the men had to have. His foolishness had cost many lives and would surely have ended in disaster had it not been for Winters sending Speirs.

When she reached Dike, his eyes were opened wide, staring. Scarlet red tinted one of his sleeves. That was when Anita realized what had happened: He was shellshocked. Now, she almost felt bad.

“Lieutenant Dike," she said, kneeling down in front of him. But he didn’t look at her. “ Sir! …  Norman!”

Finally, their eyes met.

“You need to come back to Captain Winters with me.”

He said nothing, just sat there and stared. Then, he nodded jerkily.

“Alright. Can you get up? Can you stand?”

Slowly, like he was rusted, Dike started moving, scrambling about. She held her hands out to him. After a few seconds, he took them and let himself be pulled up. He swayed a little as he stood, relying on Anita for support.

“Take your time. We’re behind cover, we’re safe. Take a deep breath, in and out. There we go. In… and out. Very good. Are you feeling a little better?”

Dike nodded.

“Can you run?”

He nodded again.

“Good. On three. Ready? One… two… three!”

Then, she took off sprinting, pulling Dike along with her. He had some difficulties, stumbling, but he followed. Finally, they reached the trees. Anita delivered Dike safely to Captain Winters. Winters could barely keep himself contained before yelling:

“What was that, Lieutenant?! I told you explicitly to get in there fast! What the hell were you thinking?!”

To this, Dike stayed silent. Anita returned to Nixon’s side, overlooking the battle. From here, everyone was faceless. All the soldiers together were one unit. Without a word, Nixon offered Anita his binoculars. She took them, the faceless soldiers turning into individuals. She could see Perconte being treated by a medic, Bull not far away from him, Liebgott behind a large cart, Luz with his radio next to Lipton and Don on the opposite side of the road. But who captivated her the most was Speirs, running through the enemies all by himself. Seeing him like this, his courage, his determination, Anita was sure: With him leading Easy, things would be okay.

[xamassed]

⟬ @fractisouls ⟭

Matilda practically throws herself at her girlfriend, arms wrapping around Anita as soon as she sees her. Right behind her, there's a boy who looks similar to her, shaking his head as he watches the display of affection. Knowing that an introduction will likely be skipped if she had her way, the surprise guest decides to speak up, " Hi. My name's August. I'm- " Suddenly, his words are cut off when Matilda pulls back and jumps in place, " This is August. The cool and nerdy de Rolo-MacTavish twin. I'm not quite sure how someone can be cool and nerdy but August makes it work. Oh! We also have something for you, my love! " With the announcement, August offers the bag in his hand and smiles softly, " Mom wanted to make you some sweets. They should last a couple of days. " Matilda chimes in after him, " This is her way of saying, WELCOME TO THE FAMILY! You should meet my parents sometime soon but that's a plan for the future. I figured today you could meet August. We're starting off easy. "

"About time you got here!" She anticipated a whole person being thrown in her direction, so it was with a great deal of ease ( and enthusiasm ) that she caught Matilda and lifted her off her feet. The momentum of the leap spun them around once, twice, three times before Anita caught sight of a blurry figure in the corner of her vision.

Slowly, she placed her love back onto her feet and gave the vaguely familiar face her attention.

"Cool and nerdy?" Mud-brown eyes moved between the twins, while a cheeky little smirk worked up along her lips. "Is that why you're such a dweeb?"

She meant it lovingly, of course. No one could know Anita without getting teased every once and a while. It was done from a softer place in her heart, but she leaned in and gave her girlfriend's cheek a little nuzzle just to be certain.

The gift was a surprise, but it was gratefully taken and peeked into once she was told they were home-made sweets. "Your mom does that kind of stuff? That's so cool. My dad is usually the one in the kitchen, so I'll have to have him make you guys some stuff too!"

It was tempting to dig in at that very moment, but she withheld her gluttony for the sake of opening up and practicing appreciation. Cheeks pink and eyes down, she still couldn't make eye-contact while exposing the softer sides of herself.

"This is awesome, seriously. I didn't think I'd be welcomed in so fast, but it's nice. Thank you. These are gonna be gone by tonight, I swear. Food never lasts long around me." Finally, after mustering up a handful of courage, she glanced to August. "She's told me a lot about you, so I've been waiting for the chance to meet you. Not sure how you're easy-mode, though."

She let out an amused snort and gently pressed her shoulder into Matilda's. "Twins are practically your best friend from birth, right? That's what I kept hearing, anyway. I was more worried about him than your parents."

[lunamadhatter99]

Told you.

Part 1

Okay yeah, this is my first ever fic, with Riif because at the moment he's my love.

Summary: Y/n is the daughter of a rich couple, she should be living the best life, right? Not when her parents are bigots too interested in other people’s opinions than their own daughter. That's why she prefers the company of Sharks and Jets.

She basically doesn't want to take any parts and yeah.. that's pretty much it.

Sorry, not very good with summaries and stuff😂

Hope you guys like it🤞❤

Another day, another bruise..

"shit" I think as I look in the mirror.

At least today it's not very visible, I mean it's under the eye, yes, but at least I think I can cover it with my hair somehow and, hopefully, Anita won't notice. She's been my best friend since she arrived in New York, she also found me that job with her as a seamstress (she also taught me everything she knows). But sometimes she acts too much like a mother, that's why I don't want her to see the bruise.. I don't want her to worry too much.

As I try to fix my hair as best as I can I don't notice the time basically flying.

"Shit!" I almost scream. I'm late.

I grab my purse and walk out, successfully avoiding my parents, they already did too much this morning with that bruise.

I walk down the street heading to the west side of Manhattan, which is more home than my parents'.

In order to arrive on time, or at least not SO late, I try a short-cut by the basketball court. Usually it works.

As I walk down the alley, right by the court, I see a figure appearing at the end of the alley.

"Not today, c'mon" I think, as the figure of Action comes into the view.

"Well, Hello there, going somewhere,  aren't we?" He asks me.

"Actually yes, i'm just trying to get to work on time, but apparently I'm gonna be late" I answer dryly turning around to walk in the opposite direction, unfortunately blocked by another Jet, Mouthpiece.

"You're right, princess" he told me.

"C'mon guys" I tell them as I slowly back away, with the intention of taking the alley in between.

As I turn to walk that way, my way is once again blocked by the leader of the Jets himself, Riff.

"So eager to run away from us?" That infamous smirk always on his face.

"Well, I have to work and-" I answer looking him on the eyes.

"Why do you even bother working? Aren't your parents like.. rich? High-society kinda shit" Mouthpiece interrupts me.

"Oh yeah right... sorry if I want to earn my own money and stop depending on those assholes" I answer him with a fake smile, without breaking eye contact with Riff.

"Why working with those puertoricans though?" Action's suddenly to my left.

I finally break the staring contest with Riff to look directly at Action "because I like it and they're my friends" I answer as if I were talking to a child.

"They're stealing our territory" Mouthpiece intervenes again.

I turn my head to look at him now, but I feel Riff's intense stare still on me.

"They're not the ones stealing your fucking home, how many times do I have to tell you? If only you guys collaborate instead of fighting each other.. you don't even have to like one another, just stand each other for fuck's sake"

"You keep swearing like this I'm gonna fall in love" Riff speaks again.

I raise an eyebrow at him and we get back at staring at each other.

I didn't even realise I was backing away till my back hits the gate of the basketball court and Riff put his hands on either side of my head, slightly trapping me.

"I'm late for work, guys" I try one more time.

"We just want to talk, you're one of us after all, pretty girl" Mouthpiece appears on my right, too close for my taste, but I say nothing.

Instead I turn my head towards him "oh no no, I'm none of anything here. Those people are my friends too so.. don't count me in your useless fight, thank you"

"Didn't your daddy like your dress or what?" He reply.

"What?" I ask confused.

"That bruise under your eye" he points out.

Fuck.

I sense Riff tensing up, I refuse to look at him.

"Don't you guys have stuff to do?" He asks his friends.

"C'mon, Riff we-" Action starts but is interrupted by Riff's order.

"Go!"

They reluctantly walk away.

When they're completely out of sight Riff stands up straight looking at me.

"Are you gonna tell me what happened or should I assume the worst? Which let me say, it's usually very close to the truth" he puts his hands on his hips, waiting.

"Well, he still doesn't like the idea of me working" I answer turning my head at him, but still not looking at his face.

"He doesn't want you to work with a puertorican?"

"He doesn't like me working. Period" I tell him "or me wearing pants, or me going out with 'not elite people'... let's say he doesn't like me"

"Asshole" he says.

I look at him, at last, and a small laugh escapes me. He smiles at me, not the usual smirk.. no, a genuine smile.

"You know I could help you, if you-" he starts.

"I don't want you to get hurt, Riff"

"Pff..I can handle it" he replys.

"Oh baby boy, you only act like your so tough, you're strong and brave, sure, but there are some things bigger than you" I grab his hand to five it a quick squeeze, but he interlocks his fingers with mine pulling me to him.

"I just want you to be safe" he looks me in the eyes.

"Then walk me to work, so maybe I won't be so late..  since you guys hold me back"  I drop his hand and I start walking.

He laughs.

"I want to hold your hand"

"Aaww you're not going soft on me  now, are you?" I say smiling.

"Only for you, but don't tell the rest" he walks beside me.

"Promise"

"But seriously, I'm tired of this play, I don't like it when the others flirt with you"

"Why? The big Riff has a crush?" I tease him.

"You wish" he answers.

"No, you wish" I laugh.

We talk for a while and soon we arrive at destination.

"Thanks, Riff" I say running on the other side of the street "behave... please!" I scream at him.

"Never!" He reply.

I finally enter the store, fixing my hair again walking to the back where Anita should be.

Hopefully she won't be too mad.

[toppersjeep]

Austin North-[Its you] X Reader

Summary: It’s New Year’s Eve you were invited to a party with Austin and a couple friends of his. A friend of his was performing and afterwards you noticed how she was all over him. You’ve had feelings for him. But he has no idea. Ever since you started working with him on obx you had strong feelings.

A/N: I’m honestly so bored and I really wanna write more of Austin so enjoy

___

Your POV

“You look nice” Chase said I smiled. “Thanks Chase you are rocking the single look” I said he laughed. “Oh well thanks I guess” he said sipping his beer. “What” I said as Jonah looked at me.

He was one of Austin’s friends who slowly became kinda my best friend. Really he was like a brother to me. He knew about my feelings for Aus, he encouraged me to tell him. But I haven’t.

“Why don’t you tell him” he whispered to me as I looked at Austin. He was talking to Mads Bailey about something. “Because what if he doesn’t care or I say the wrong thing” I said. “You never know if you don’t try” Jonah added.

“I don’t wanna lose my best friend if he doesn’t feel the same way” I said. “Hey guys enjoy the show” Anita asked coming over to us. She was extremely gorgeous compared to me. And I knew she liked Austin to.

(Ik I probably spelt her name wrong sorry loves)

“It was great” Austin said hugging her. The way he looked at her sometimes killed me so badly. All I ever wanted was for him to want me. To look at me like I was the only girl in the world.

“Y/N” Bails said. “Hmmm” I said. “You alright you look sad” she said side hugging me. “I’m ok” I said sipping my beer. Maybe getting drunk would help get my mind off what was going on in front of me.

Now they were closer. She had her hands all over Austin. He didn’t seem to move them or care at all. It hurt me. A tear rolled down my face as she kept flirting with him.

He’d laugh and smile.

“Y/N” Jonah said. “I’m sorry guys I can’t I’m gonna go” I said. Austin looked over at me. “But it’s two minutes till new year’s bae” Bails said. “Yeah girl come on stay” Mariah said. “I just” I said looking at her and Austin.

I grabbed my bag and walked away. I started walking away when I heard someone call my name multiple times. I ignored it thinking it was Jonah or Chase.

“Please stop” Austin said stepping in front of me. “Go away” I said shoving him out of my way. He grabbed my hand. I turned around to face him. “What’s wrong you aren’t like this” Austin said. “I don’t wanna talk to you right now” I said looking at the ground.

He moved closer and cupped my cheek titling my head up to look at his beautiful blue eyes. God those blue eyes.

“I… wanna talk to you though why are you upset” he said wiping the tear rolling down my cheek. “It doesn’t matter you wouldn’t care” I said. “I do care about you” Austin said. “Right” I said. “Tell me what I did” Austin said. “You don’t see it do you” I said he looked confused.

“See what Y/N” Austin said. “You’ve never even noticed the way I look at you have you” I said. “Have you” Austin said. “Have I what” I said. “You’ve never noticed the way I look at you” he said I looked back up at him again.

“What do you mean are you mocking me right now” I said. “Now… I .. Y/N she’s not you ok I saw the way you looked at us” Austin said. “Oh bullshit North” I said walking away. “Y/N stop” Austin said walking after me.

“Why should I you gonna tell me that you want her it’s fine I get it completely” I said. “Would you stop and listen god you are so stubborn” Austin said I stopped in my tracks.

I then turned around slowly.

“Stubborn” I said rolling my eyes. “Your stubborn and funny and sassy and a million other little things” Austin said. “Ok I get it” I said. “No you really don’t Y/N it’s you” Austin said. “What” I said. He stood right in front of me and took my hand.

“God it’s always been you I never knew how someone could make you feel so anxious all the time” he said I blushed. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone sometimes I can’t speak when I’m around you or even think” Austin said.

“…Y/N… I don’t want anyone else ok she isn’t you she’ll never be you” Austin said. I smiled and didn’t say anything. “What” Austin said.

As soon as the timer went off for the new year I immediately pulled him into a kiss. He kissed me back wrapping his arms around my waist. I circled my arms around his neck.

He gave me another quick kiss before pulling away to look at me again with those eyes. The ones I fell for. I didn’t expect for him to say anything to me.

“I… really.. l.. wow your right about the not talking thing around you” I said he laughed. “Go on” Austin said. “I’m in love with you and I have been since the moment I laid my eyes on you” I said.

“I love you too I love everything about you” Austin said. “Took you long enough” I said. “Really you should’ve kissed me sooner” Austin said. “Ah I see then why don’t you just kiss me again” I said he blushed.

“I will” Austin said kissing me again. “Yes finally you kooks” Chase yelled we laughed. “About damn time” Rudy said. “Literally though” Bails said smiling. “They are so cute” Mariah said. “So boyfriend and girlfriend or are you too cool” I said.

“No I’ll be your boyfriend any day” Austin said kissing my cheek. “Well happy new year to officially the cutest couple” Jonah said. “Happy New Years” I said. “Happy New Year indeed” Austin said hugging me.

[lepusrufus]

Double edged scalpel ch.5

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4

Summary: someone please give Nicole a break for the love of Miranda. And there be smut y'all

---

Seeing Cassandra's softer side made something flutter within Nicole's chest. The brunette was a sadist through and through. Witness to that fact was the array of torture devices that littered the dungeons. Not to mention the prisoners she frequently killed, only to haul them on the autopsy tables in her study to be examined, chopped and sectioned by the both of them.

But there was an uncharacteristic sort of gentleness in the way their lips slid against each other, sharp teeth occasionally biting down on Nicole's lower lip but never enough to draw blood. In the way Cassandra would drag sharp nails against flushed skin, but not go beyond the pleasurable amount of pain. Even the glint in golden eyes when Nicole went over some old notes of hers on more tricky anatomy concepts. Having an exclusive look at this side of Cassandra felt beyond intimate and the thought almost made her miss when the brunette spoke from where she was leaning over a notebook.

"Okay let's just wrap this up, I have plans."

Nicole hummed, dropping the liver she was holding in a freezer bag. Most body parts were already bagged and ready to be picked up by Cynthia and her undercooks, they were just putting into practice some things the brunette was curious about. She dropped the now blood soaked leather gloves in the sink and went to sit by Cassandra, who was scribbling some final notes.

"In that case I'll go enjoy a cup of tea," she sighed. "Tea that I had to skip because someone was eager to start on this early."

Cassandra raised an eyebrow at her, accompanied by her usual smirk. "I meant plans with you."

Oh? That was new. The brunette laughed at Nicole's wide eyed expression and snapped her notebook shut. She took her sweet time putting it on the shelf with the others and checking the time, pretending not to notice the redhead's inquisitive expression. Then, she lifted Nicole’s chin with a thankfully not covered in blood finger.

"Don't get me wrong I love it here but," she grimaced, "it gets stuffy sometimes. Especially in summer."

Well, that much was true. The undergrounds of the castle were oddly warm, although not downright hot, compared to what one would expect from a castle. Pair that with the annoyingly humid atmosphere and having to wear a leather apron and gloves so as to not completely ruin your outfit and you got the perfect recipe for discomfort. She really ought to ask Cassandra about installing some kind of better ventilation down here.

"Meet me in the attic in about… an hour." She leaned down and their mouths were so close that Nicole could feel icy breath on her lips.

The attic? She's never been to the attic, it was not only off limits for most staff but also dangerous if rumors were to be believed. Not that she had the clarity of mind to voice any concerns when Cassandra finally leaned in to kiss her, complete with a nip on her lower lip that made Nicole’s breath hitch.

---

The fact that Nicole had no idea how to get to the attic could be a slight problem. She had asked Anita, but not only did she not know, she also seemed mortified by the idea. Another maid just gave her vague directions to look for a ladder on the top floor. As if that wasn't like trying to find the needle in a haystack. Or the needle in a giant castle.

She was just wandering around the top floor, praying not to stumble upon anyone who would be less than thrilled to see her there. A sigh of relief escaped past her lips when she heard familiar buzzing and steps coming towards her.

"Oh Cas-" she swallowed her words when she noticed red hair spilling from underneath a black hood.

"Nicole! What are you doing here hmm?" Her inquisitive hum was way too exaggerated the same way her fangs seemed too sharp when she grinned.

"I was just looking for Ca- lady Cassandra. She asked me to meet her in the attic."

Daniela's mouth fell open, almost forming an O shape. Then back to her characteristic giggle, almost as if laughing at a joke only she knew.

"What, you don't know how to get there?"

"...Not really," she sheepishly admitted.

And that was a mistake. Nicole would've preferred to wander the hallways until Cassandra eventually got bored enough of waiting and decided to come see where her glorified lab partner was. But her plan was ruined by Daniela wordlessly grabbing her arm and pulling her in the opposite direction she was going in. She even went the extra mile to partially turn into a swarm, which made Nicole's panic skyrocket. She didn't mind bugs. But having hundreds of them fly all around you, accompanied by manic giggling was a whole other thing.

Before she knew it though, Daniela let go of her arm, laughing a little at Nicole's stumbling. She gestured dramatically towards a ladder and said:

"There you go. Say hi to Cassie for me."

"Th- thank you my lady." And with a small bow of the head she grabbed the ladder and started ascending on shaky legs.

"And enjoy your date," she called out, once Nicole was at the top of the stairs.

Blushing, she decided to ignore the comment and start looking for the sister less likely to turn her into fly food.

The attic looked… old. It was obvious that people didn't come here often, although someone probably did clean it regularly as there were no cobwebs nor dirt on any surfaces, aside from some dust. It was full of neatly arranged boxes and crates, their contents as mysterious as the castle's inhabitants. Tentative steps took her across ancient floorboards, navigating old rooms.

"Rah!"

Nicole damn near jumped out of her skin, a string of curses spilling past her lips. "Jesus fucking christ Cassandra!"

The brunette only laughed, hands on her knees and pretending to wipe a tear from her eye.

"That's what you get for making me wait for so long."

"I didn't even know where the attic entrance was! Good thing one of your sisters came to my rescue." Nicole rolled her eyes at the last word.

Cassandra stopped laughing, eyes narrowing slightly. "Which one?"

"Uh- Danie-"

"Did she hurt you?" Cassandra grabbed her arms, golden eyes looking for any visible injuries.

Nicole just laughed softly, taken off guard by the display of concern. "No, no. Just gave me a bit of a fright, that's all."

With an eye roll, Cassandra guided her further into the attic, through more dusty rooms, until they reached a short corridor, light spilling from its other end. The room they entered was relatively small, almost half of it occupied by stacked boxes as if it used to be a storage room like the rest of the attic and nobody bothered to completely clear it out. A few pieces of furniture were also present: a couch with a coffee table in front of it and paintings leaning against a wall to collect dust. This room however had a window, left slightly ajar, that allowed you to see the mountains stretching on the horizon, crowned by the beautiful orange hues of dusk.

Nicole moved to the glass to take in the view, mouth almost hanging open, when an ungodly screech from outside made her backpedal straight into Cassandra.

"What the fuck was that?" She asked, eyes widening at the sight of flying creatures circling the towers.

"Mother's flying guard dogs."

"They sound the same way I'd imagine the souls of the damned do." Nicole didn’t take her eyes off the ghoulish creatures, almost as if keeping eye contact would dissuade them from attacking.

Cassandra just shrugged. "Wouldn't be too far off. Also here." She sat on the couch, gesturing towards a cup.

Nicole went to sit by her side, grabbing the mystery cup. She frowned slightly when the steam reached her nose, bringing with it a pleasant minty and honey aroma.

"Tea?"

"Since you were so disheartened about having to skip it earlier," Cassandra averted her eyes, seemingly finding the curtains very interesting.

After a long sip, she let out a content sigh. The warmth was more than welcomed, despite the weather. She set the cup back on the table and turned her attention on the brunette, now fidgeting with the corner of a pillow.

"Thank you," Nicole said, leaving a small kiss on her cheek.

Cassandra smiled and turned around, locking their lips in a kiss that at first mimicked her gentleness, but soon turned hungry when dainty hands made their way to the brunette's nape, pulling her closer. She shifted them both, pushing Nicole down on the pillows littering the couch, until she was laying on top of her, legs on each side of her waist. Her focus was on leaving a trail of nips and kisses down Nicole's neck when the redhead jumped and barely stifled a yelp at another screech from outside.

"Ugh what the fuck is today, scare me out of my mind day?"

"How are you scared of these but countless dead bodies don't phase you?" Cassandra laughed, sound muffled by her position with her mouth against Nicole's neck.

"I used to work on corpses, not on ugly gargoyles that could chew my face off!" She gestured wildly at the window and the few creatures visible outside.

"You what?"

"You...didn't know?" Nicole couldn't help a giggle at Cassandra's confused expression.

"How was I supposed to know?"

"I thought your mother told you already. Or your sisters," Nicole shrugged.

"They knew?!" And, after something seemed to dawn on her, "Oh I'm gonna kick both their asses."

Nicole couldn’t help letting out a small laugh, placing her hands on Cassandra's cheeks and, with a pout for dramatic effect, "Right now?"

As much as the sight was both funny and endearing, the warmth starting to pool at her core was making her beyond impatient.

The indignation in golden eyes was replaced by an all too familiar glint and black painted lips went back to their work on Nicole's neck. Sharp fangs pierced the skin there, just enough to draw a few drops of blood and a whine. After licking every last bit of it, Cassandra's lips moved to the collarbones and lower, hands slowly starting to undo the buttons of Nicole's pesky uniform that was in the way.

When both the button up and the skirt were discarded on the floor Nicole tangled her fingers through black hair and pulled Cassandra in for a kiss. Her free hand went to the back of the dress, pulling down the zipper and guiding it off of the brunette's shoulders. Once both of them were left only in undergarments, Nicole pulled back to look up at the brunette.

"If I knew I was supposed to dress up I would've asked the chambermaid if there's anything fancy in the uniform stash," she said, taking in the beautifully intricate lace of Cassandra's matching bra and underwear, complete with a giggle at her awful joking.

The brunette only raised an eyebrow. "Mhm I can take care of that. Not like you'll need these for long though." Her hands reached under Nicole's back to unclasp her bra and in mere moments that too was on top of the pile of clothes on the floor.

Then Cassandra bent down to crash their lips together, tongue slipping past Nicole's lips when a wandering hand elicited a gasp from her.

Cassandra was by no means a patient person. Quite the opposite actually. But teasingly dragging her nails across sensitive skin only to feel the girl under her squirm and whine when her hand just won't go where she needed it made waiting all the more sweet. Slender fingers started to toy with the edges of Nicole's underwear. After a groan against her lips and an impatient tug of hair, Cassandra finally gave in, slipping two fingers inside her. She felt Nicole arch into her, a broken moan escaping past her lips when she broke the kiss to let her head fall back into the cushions. Cassandra took that as an opportunity to kiss the length of her neck, occasionally stopping to suck or bite at a spot, enjoying every gasp and moan she drew out of the redhead.

With Cassandra's rough pace it didn't take long before Nicole was clenching her thighs around her hand. Cassandra kissed her, swallowing her moan as she came.

The small room in the attic, Cassandra's drawing room she would later find out, was the perfect secluded spot. They spent the rest of the evening enjoying each other. First evening of many.

[plentyoffandoms]

Glamorous

Ricky Starks x f/Reader

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Gifs & photos do not belong to me.

Warnings: Some swearing. Some smut.

Main Masterlist ♡ AEW Masterlist ♡ Ricky Starks Masterlist

Summary: f/Reader is a temporary lead fashion consultant for AEW. Ricky Starks takes a liking to her.

William - Powerhouse Hobbs

Tyler - Hook

Ricky Starks POV:

I was getting fitted in my new outfit that I needed to do a photo shoot with Team Taz when I saw Cody come in with probably the most beautiful woman I have seen.

I actually think my mouth dropped opened. "Everyone, I would like you all to meet Y/N. She will be taking for Anita while she is on maternity leave."

The ones who were in the room with us said hello, but all I did was make some weird noise.

William and Tyler both looked at me like I lost my mind. I am never like this around any woman. What is wrong with me?

Y/N went around and introduced herself to everyone. I noticed how her smile, although not perfect, was perfect to me.

When she finally got to me. "Ricky right? I hope that we can work closely with one another. You are probably the most fashionable one out of all the guys here."

"I would like that." I hope I said. I kind of faded out when she said my name. Once Y/N was gone, William pinched me.

"What the hell is that about man? You like her?"

"Pfft, no." I tried to say.

"You can admit to us that you like her." Tyler said.

"Fine, I do."

Then these two tried to give me love advice. By the end of it, I was rubbing my temples.

"Look, if she likes me like that, then great, but for now we just met."

That didn't make them shut up, if anything it made them give me more unsolicited advice.

Over the course of a few weeks, Y/N and I became close. We would stay long after everyone else left to discuss anything and everything. I could tell this woman anything.

As I just finished lunch, I got an e-mail from Y/N asking to meet in her temporary office to discuss the outfit I will be wearing for Friday's show.

I knocked on her open door and I just about melted once more when she smiled at me. "Come on Ricky, close the door behind you."

Which I did. I sat across from her as she showed me her ideas. "So which one do you like?"

I picked the white outfit with the black loafers.

"Excellent choice. Now I just need your measurements. I know that Anita had them, but I know how much people's weight can fluctuate."

Y/N had me standing as she took my measure. She was so close I can smell the shampoo she uses.

The last part she checked was my chest, and her breathing seemed to be slightly laboured.

I hate to admit but mine was too. "Are you okay Y/N?" I asked her. She looked up and she must of realised we were closer than what she thought.

All she could do was nod and seeing her so close to me. I finally snapped. I wrapped my arms around her waist and crashed my lips against hers.

Y/N wrapped her arms around my neck and moaned as I pulled her flush against my body.

I walked the two of us back to her desk and lifted her just enough for her to sit on it as she started to unbutton her shirt and I pushed down my pants and underwear.

The two of us tried to be quiet once I slid into her but it was hard. She was tight and warm around me. The moment she came I had to kiss her to stop the loud moan from reaching outside ears.

"I'm gonna cum Y/N." I growled at her. She quickly pushed me away and was on her knees infront of me, wrapping her lips around the head of my cock.

I came in her mouth and I just about died as she kept eye contact with me as she swallowed it all.

She opened her mouth to show me that she swallowed it all.

I helped her stand back up and fixed her clothes and hair. A few moments later her phone went off.

"Shit Ricky. I have a meeting with The Best Friends, sorry I gotta go." She reached into her purse and pulled out a pack of gum and popped one in her mouth and I mean gone.

I didn't even see her when I came to grab the outfit I picked out. I asked Becky where she was and all Becky could tell me was that she was with Nick and Matt, helping them get ready for tonight.

I played it off once I walked down the ramp and I became the 'Absolute' Ricky Starks.

But once that was over, I headed straight for her office. I had a feeling she would be there.

Y/N'S POV:

After I had sex with Ricky, I felt like I was cloud nine. I have liked him for so long, but as I sat for the meeting with The Best Friends, I realised how stupid it was for me to do this at work.

I just hired for full-time as Anita decided to be a stay-at-home mom. I could lose my job over this.

The company doesn't care about fratenzing but I couldn't but feel horrible.

So I ignores Ricky. Every single phone call. Every e-mail. Every text message.

What I was not expecting was for him to come barging into my office, looking angry and sexy.

He closed the door behind him and sat infront of my desk. "Want to tell me why you have been ignoring me Y/N?"

Straight to the point. "I'm sorry Ricky. I got scared." His face went from angry to concerned.

"What do you mean scared?"

"I just got hired full-time that day and I was scared that someone would find out and fire me."

"No one knows Y/N."

"I know Ricky. Like I said, I was just scared. I liked you and I practically jumped you that day."

The jackass actually laughed at me. "Why are you laughing?"

"For one thing, you did not jump me and trust me I was very much a willing participant and secondly, I like you too. Have since the day you walked into thet room."

Now I feel foolish. "How about we start over." I nodded my head.

He stuck his hand out. "Name is Ricky and yours?"

I took his hand and shook it. "Y/N."

"Well Y/N, want to get out of here and go on a date? I know the best Mexican restaurant that this city has to offer."

"I would like that Ricky."

The two of us stood up, and I grabbed my purse. I turned off the light as Ricky held the door open for me.

As the two of us were walking to his car, as I took a taxi that morning, he grabbed my hand in his. He didn't let go when he drove to the restaurant.

Tag List: if you would like to be added, please let me know. @lghockey @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @kawaiikels @angelreyesgirl89

[paperpocalypse]

significance.

50 Cliché Tropes and Prompts: 26. Cuddling in comfortable silence before murmuring “I love you” + 47. “I’ve been in love with you for years”

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,118 words

Warning: Swearing, violence

His head feels like it’s been split open, the rest of his body feels like one giant bruise and the Handler’s daughter has her fancy leather boot on his fucking throat.

Five couldn’t be less surprised by his luck.

“Doesn’t feel so good, does it?”

He forces in just enough breath to answer her. “Eat shit and die …!”

The reaction is worth it. Lila lets out a furious cry, gritting her teeth and bringing her foot down even harder – and in doing so, changes her center of gravity. Opportunity. Five digs his nails into that damned shoe and pushes upwards. The sudden force sends her flying, and he can breathe again.

Fighting the ache in his bones, Five stumbles to his feet as she does the same. “Come on,” he pants, readying his stance as the woman turns to face him again. “What are you waiting for? Let’s finish this thing.”

She shakes her head. “No,” she whispers, sniffling. “This isn’t gonna be quick. You are going to suffer for what you did.”

Suffer? For Christ’s sake – Five scoffs and drops his hands. “Lady, I got no idea what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Ronnie and Anita Gill.”

“Mean nothing to me.”

“1993, East London.” Lila continues to stare at him like he knows what the hell she’s talking about. “You hog-tied them and you shot them in the head.”

Five narrows his eyes; it’s very possible that she’s just bullshitting him. But despite the rationality of just ignoring her and going for the kill, he searches his memories anyway. 1993, East London. Hog-tied. Tables overturned, the pleas of a couple inside a tiny flat in the middle of the night. Yes, wait – he does remember. 1993, toys strewn everywhere – he told you to close your eyes but you didn’t – East London, two quick shots –

“We had no choice.”

“I know. But …”

“The flower merchants,” he murmurs. Five looks at her with wide eyes. “They were your parents …!”

“And they never did anything to anyone. They didn’t deserve to die like that.”

The Handler ordered him to kill Lila’s parents. Lila, who has powers like them. That couldn’t have been a coincidence.

Absorbing this newfound information, Five attempts to talk the woman down as he fills out the rest of the picture. “You’re right, alright? I killed them. But I killed a lot of people over the years. It was all just a job. Alright? That was never personal.”

At that, Lila laughs. “‘Never personal,’ my ass,” she sneers. “Yeah, I’ve killed – it’s always, always personal.”

“That’s why you’re not cut out to be an assassin.”

She yanks a knife out of her boot as soon as the sentence leaves his mouth. “Bet your life on that?”

Right then, a shadow moves in the doorway to the barn. Five immediately knows who it is, and his heart seizes in his chest.

“Lila!” Your voice is firm and taunting.

Shit. Shit!

Without hesitation, Five lunges for the knife, only to find himself grabbing at air as Lila reappears behind you. The blade is pressed against your neck before he can even shout your name.

Five clenches his fists as he meets your eyes. Your expression is stony, hands stiffly grasping at Lila’s arm. Jesus Christ, just a little energy to blink – nothing –!

Fucking shit!

“Let her go.”

—

The bearded man smiles. “Sorry, no can do.”

The alley is frigid and dark, the air damp and rotting. He doesn’t move a muscle. In front of him, you breathe steadily, in and out, not saying a word. The steel barrel pressed flush to your temple mirrors the one against his.

“Just hand over your valuables and that briefcase, and we can be on our way.”

“Sorry,” you say, voice steady and cold. (It makes him proud.) “Everything stays with us.”

He looks at you. You blink.

Within the next half-second, he’s knocked your captor to the ground and the two of you are aiming the guns at their previous owners. They raise their hands almost immediately. Exactly like the exercise from his youth.

Another half-second, and both of you pull the triggers.

Five stares down at the corpse now lying on the ground. Then he straightens his tie and turns to you.

You’re still pointing the gun at the other target. His frown softens.

“[Y/n].”

Putting a hand on your arm, he notes how you stiffen, snapping out of whatever zone you had been in. You meet his eyes and breathe in sharply, then relax.

“We’re done.” You frame the question as more of a statement as Five takes the former thief’s gun from you.

“For the night,” he affirms, holding your gaze curiously. “You good?”

You wet your lips and tuck your weapon away. “I’m okay,” you eventually reply. He raises an eyebrow; your mouth twitches. “I just – well, you’re taking this whole assassin thing a lot better than I am. Pointing guns and shooting and killing for real, and – and all that pizzazz.”

“I was a member of the Umbrella Academy,” Five points out dryly. “Thirteen more years of formal training and being able to spatial jump gives me somewhat of an advantage.”

“… That’s true.” Still, you seem unsettled. “Five, you’re okay with this? We’re … killing people.”

“No. But we have no other option,” he says. “It’s only until I figure out how to get us back, alright?”

You hesitate, then nod. “Alright.”

The pair of you leave the alley, leaving the targets there to be found by the police. The fact that they had a gun pointed at your head should make him feel better about it. They were already criminals, too. Self-defense instead of cold-blooded “corrections.”

There’s still a bitter taste in his mouth anyway.

“You hold your own pretty well,” he murmurs after a while, trying to distract himself.

You grant him a small, knowing smile. “Thanks,” you say, taking his arm as the pair of you walk the rest of the way to the motel. “I had a good teacher while I was stuck in the ruins of the apocalypse.”

He hums. “Weren’t you lucky?”

Your hand tightens around the sleeve of his tailored suit.

“The luckiest.”

—

He’s going to kill her.

Teeth bared, Five starts toward her, only to stop short when Lila presses the blade harder against your throat.

“Not another step, Five,” she warns him, her grip tightening. “Or you’ll both regret it.”

“She’s not responsible for what happened. I was the one who killed them!”

“But she didn’t stop you, did she?”

Five struggles to control his rage. The knife is sharp and black underneath your jaw, ready to draw blood at a moment’s notice.

You inhale shallowly. “Lila,” you rasp.

“Don’t speak.”

“Look,” Five forces out as evenly as he can, catching the woman’s attention again. He can’t take his eyes off that goddamn knife. Five can almost feel the edge cutting into his own skin. “You wanna blame someone, blame the Handler, alright? She faked the kill order.”

“Bullshit! I saw the kill order. AJ Carmichael ordered it, and you and [Y/n] carried it out.”

“Lila, listen to what I’m telling you, alright? The Handler gave us the kill order. She came on the job, which she’d never done before.” He unclenches his fists with unwilling, trembling fingers. His mind is reeling. “You’re Commission. You know execs never go on jobs, but that day in London, she was there. Ask yourself why –”

“Stop trying to muddy the waters.”

Five swallows, pulse racing. He rips his eyes away from your neck to gauge Lila’s expression. Doubt is beginning to bleed into it, and he manages to keep his tone level.

Focus on completing the picture. No sudden movements.

“Think about it, Lila. It all makes sense.”

Lila’s grip on the knife relaxes by the smallest amount. She hesitates for a moment before speaking. “What?”

“She never cared about your parents. She was looking for you.”

What little is left of her anger melts off Lila’s face. For the first time, the girl looks completely vulnerable. And it’s not a farce.

“Why?” she whispers.

Come on …

“‘Cause you’re one of us.”

Lila whips her head around when Diego cuts through the silence, holding you even more tightly against herself. Five’s gaze snaps back to the knife again and he swears internally.

Dammit, Diego, you better have a plan!

“The Handler stole you, Lila. Just like our asshole father took all of us,” his brother explains carefully.

“No. It’s not the same thing.”

“You’re right. Because he didn’t have our parents murdered.” Diego approaches her, staying low to the ground, hands outstretched. “Listen to me, Lila. You were born October 1, 1989, the same day as all of us.”

The rest of his siblings close in on Lila, slowly, warily. The movement sends her into a panic, and she cuts a little into your neck. You let out half of a gasp and swallow the rest of it, but it’s enough.

Five sees red.

“Get your fucking hands off her!”

“STAY BACK!”

“Five! Back off!” Diego shouts. Chest heaving and blood roaring in his ears, Five looks at him and then at your sweaty, frozen face – and against every fiber of his being, he listens and backs off, glaring venomously as his brother then turns to Lila again. “Lila? Lila, stop. Let her go.”

She turns her head from side to side, knuckles white as she keeps the knife against your throat. “No,” she chokes. “Diego, you don’t understand. They killed my parents. They took my life away from me.”

Five seethes. “For the last time, it was nothing personal –"

“And it was wrong. I know.” Diego’s eyes flit to Five’s, silently reprimanding. “You want to make them pay for what they did. But killing [Y/n]’s not gonna bring your parents back. You know that.”

“It’s not about bringing them back.”

He nods once, softly. “You’re right. It’s about justice. Honoring their memory.” Diego’s voice is gentle. “Trust me, Lila, I get it. I lost someone to the Commission too. She wasn’t family, but she was my friend, and I cared about her. She wasn’t supposed to die. She didn’t deserve to die. But she did.”

As Diego continues talking, Five keeps his guard up on the other side, watching and waiting for a contraction of a muscle, a single forewarning of violence. If another drop of your blood stains that blade, shit, he’ll kill the woman with his own two hands, Diego’s feelings be damned.

Tightening his jaw, Five shifts on his feet as he looks at you. You stare back with calm eyes – just like that night in the alley, but this time, with no signal for him to make a move.

Goddammit, they should’ve gotten you to safety by now!

“… Just think about whether taking another life would honor their memory. [Y/n] deserves a chance to start over, live a peaceful life with people she cares about. And so do you.”

Lila’s trembling. Yet, she refuses to budge. “If it weren’t for her and Five,” she whispers, “I wouldn’t need that second chance. I would have been all alone if Mum hadn’t found me that night.”

“But there’s a reason she found you. She’s using you, Lila. The Handler.”

“You’re wrong. She raised me.” Lila pauses, then asserts, “She loves me.”

“She’s dangerous,” Diego emphasizes. “And you’re scared of what she’ll do with all that new power. That’s why you dragged me to the Commission. Because I know what it’s like to love dangerous people.”

—

“Oh, my.” The Handler puts a hand on his shoulder, hovering behind him. “One hundred and forty-three kills on the simulation? That’s a new record. Very, very good, Five.”

Five bristles at her closeness, but he doesn’t move away, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of unnerving him. “Thanks,” he says tersely.

“Tell me, Five. From what I’ve seen during your training, you’d be a lot more efficient in the field if you were a one-man team. Working alone is when you work best.”

“I’m partnering up with [Y/n].”

“And you’ve filled out the paperwork and everything, I know. I know. But I implore you to think about it logically,” the Handler tells him, leading him down the hallway. “[Y/n] has highly marked assessments, but frankly, they’re nowhere near your level.” She raises her eyebrows at him and blows out a stream of smoke. “Forgive me for assuming, but perhaps this is less about a partnership that would benefit the Commission and more about your personal … relationship.”

Five smiles thinly at her. “With all due respect, we’ve worked together for years. Almost forty years, in fact. I can assure you that our partnership will deliver more than satisfactory results.”

The woman just hums serenely, eyebrows still raised and cigarette holder between her lips as he faces her. Behind her, he sees you approaching.

“Excuse me,” he says politely.

As he sidesteps the Handler to meet you halfway, your shared employer calls out to him, voice ringing through the sparse crowd of Commission drones. “You’re a dangerous man, Five,” she drawls, “and this is a dangerous job. If you want to protect someone, we won’t stop you, but don’t let it endanger this opportunity we’ve so generously provided. To the both of you.”

“Duly noted,” Five replies over his shoulder, walking away with you. He can hear the Handler’s heels click against the floor as she goes on her way as well.

“She’s suspicious about us partnering up, isn’t she?” you ask him lowly.

He frowns. “I would be too if I were her. But we have to stay together.”

“Well.” You reach up to adjust his hat, tilting it slightly. “In any case, I’m pulling my own weight in the field. Just like in the apocalypse. No one-sided protection.”

“[Y/n], this is different from the apocalypse. We’re not dealing with food shortages or bad weather – we’re dealing with people.”

“All the more reason for you to trust me.” Despite your usual controlled tone and mien, he sees the way that your eyes glint. “I’m kinda dangerous myself, Five. Especially for the people I love, and I’ve been in love with you for years.”

Five sighs.

“You’re so sappy, you know that?”

(Nevertheless, he finds himself mumbling those four words, just loud enough for only you to hear.)

—

“Difference is …” Diego glances around at their siblings, then looks down, “they love me back.”

“Shut up.”

“The only thing she loves is power. Now, the minute she can’t use you, she will turn on you, and deep down, I know you know that.”

She tilts the knife against your neck. Five sucks in a breath, his heart pounding.

“You don’t know me, Diego.” Lila’s voice is hoarse.

Diego steps closer. He lifts a hand to cover hers over the knife.

“Don’t I?” he whispers. “I know that we can be your family. If you just let us.”

Lila’s eyes are glossy with unshed tears. Hesitantly, she turns her head to look around at his family, and in that moment, Five has a cautious inkling that Diego’s words actually got through to her. She doesn’t resist when Diego pulls her hand gently.

When she releases you, he almost feels weak with relief.

Five murmurs your name as you stagger over to him; you grab his arms, and he raises his hands to hold your face between them.

“Shit,” he breathes, “[Y/n] –”

“I’m okay,” he hears you say, but his ears are ringing and your skin is cold and shit, your neck – delicately, Five tilts your head back, and you attempt to brush his hands away. “Five, it’s – it’s just a scratch …”

His fingers brush against a wetness on your skin. You wince, almost imperceptibly. He draws back to look at his hand, and when he sees the blood on his fingertips, your blood, the wave of relief crashing onto him abruptly morphs back into rage.

Before you can pull him back, Five lunges at Lila.

Gunshots echo throughout the barn.

—

You’re smiling.

—

He wakes up, gasping for breath.

“Oh, good! You’re still alive,” the Handler says, looming over him. Her lipstick is bright red through the dizzying blurs. “Lucky you. You got to see how this all played out.”

Grappling for air, Five tries to speak – tries to give one last word, to finally tell the damned snake to fuck off as he stares into the barrel of her automatic. But it hurts to breathe and he can’t. Fuck, it hurts. It hurts. His tongue feels like lead and his throat is closed up. All he can do is look.

But before she can pull the trigger, he hears gunfire.

Bullets rend flesh that isn’t his. Five’s eyes widen, stunned; the Handler gasps sharply. She turns. More gunfire.

She falls.

Shit, that could only mean.… Five struggles to lift his head, almost blacking out from the pain as the gunman approaches, crushing straw underfoot. A shadow falls over him.

The Swede silently tilts his gun down at his face, and he realizes: they are both the last ones. Everyone else is dead. The Swede’s brothers. The Handler. Lila. His siblings. You.

This is the end.

(This doesn’t have to be the end.)

… Five blinks, numb.

(You’re the one who got us stuck here.)

Unless …

(Seconds. Not decades.)

Seconds.

His lungs burn. Hope blooms in his chest.

(C’mon, Five.)

Concentrate. Hands clenching sluggishly, Five focuses on gaining back the feeling in them. Seconds, not decades. A familiar, electric buzz thrums through his bones, warm, crackling with energy. His hands begin to glow. Blue envelops them like they had so many times before.

It happens slowly, time reversing itself like molasses oozing back into a jar. The Swede lowers his arm and retreats. Bodies begin to rise. Five feels himself getting pushed up, and his feet touch the ground; he presses forward, running, refusing to look back. The sharp pains recede to a singular ache.

Seconds.

Seconds.

He breaks through behind the barn door with a gasp. Air fills his chest, full and crisp.

Immediately, Five looks back at you and everyone else, standing and breathing, and pats himself just to make sure.

Holy shit.

Spotting movement outside, Five leaps at the Handler just as she walks in, seizing her weapon and turning it on her. His finger curls at the trigger. She raises her hands in surrender, lips pursed.

Got you, you son of a bitch.

“It’s true, isn’t it? What Five said,” he hears Lila ask. He doesn’t dare look away from her mother, meeting her poisonous glare with an equally cold one. “Answer me! Is it true?”

The Handler takes in a breath. “Well –”

Before she can finish her sentence, blood sprays out from her chest. She collapses. Dead.

The Swede. Five stares at her body, gun lowering. There’s a pregnant pause, void of any air – and then in his periphery, Lila shoots forward.

Luther charges after her. “The case!”

“No!”

Diego tackles him to the ground. Lila disappears in a flash of blue.

One dead, one missing. Neither of which are you or his siblings. There might be hope for them yet. Rolling his shoulders, Five turns his attention to the rogue assassin, cocking his gun and pointing it at him. The Swede reciprocates.

Nobody utters a word, for fear that it may be their last. But as Five feels the weight of the automatic in his arms, he wonders, suddenly, just how much he has in common with this man. A forgotten humanity. The death of their families. The force of a person with nothing to lose.

Except in the Swede’s case, he has no chance of gaining back what he had lost.

This is the end.

Five takes his finger off the trigger, then after a brief hesitation, lets go of the gun.

“Enough,” he says.

Nothing happens at first. The only sign that the man heard him is how he looks away from Five, surveying the rest of the barn’s occupants.

Five returns his gaze firmly, muscles tense, when he meets it again. The Swede regards him for another moment, then finally speaks.

“Inte mer.”

He drops his weapon. No more killing.

—

After Vanya helps the kid and calms him down, she goes with him and Sissy to help them pack up. Everyone else exits the barn as well to rest up and say their goodbyes before leaving, save for Diego, who talks to Herb and Dot with you and Five before joining the rest of the group at the house.

As soon as everything seems like it’s on track, Five brings you straight to the bathroom before you can protest.

“Five, it’s just a scratch.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

In a familiar turn of events, you’re sitting on the edge of the bathtub, sulking as he cleans the rest of the dried blood from your neck. Five scowls as he inspects the thin, rough scab underneath your jaw. For shit’s sake, it’s more than a ‘scratch’ – but at the very least, the cut wasn’t deep enough to cause too much bleeding.

Obviously, he’d have preferred it if you hadn’t gotten cut at all.

“She could’ve killed you.”

“I know,” you murmur. He glares at you softly, and you reach over to hold his hand. “Sorry for worrying you.”

Five scoffs, shaking his head. “Worrying me? I was damn well past worrying when she –” At that moment, he makes the mistake of seeing the guilt in your eyes, and he sighs. “What the hell were you thinking?”

You shrug quietly as he opens a large Band-Aid. “That I had to do something to keep you safe.”

“At your expense?”

Your miniscule smile changes into a grimace for a split second when he sticks the bandage on, but it returns immediately after. “You would’ve done the same thing, Five.”

All he can retort with is a displeased huff.

Silently, you stand up and turn him around, urging him to sit down this time as you pluck another hand towel from the stack that Vanya had given the two of you. Five sits still, mouth shut and eyes watching, as you start cleaning his face. Your expression is tender. A familiar feeling wells up inside of him.

Suddenly, you chuckle.

“What?”

“It’s just – if I didn’t know any better,” you say, scrubbing at a particularly grimy spot on his cheek, “I’d think that you were a schoolboy that just got into a fight and lost.”

He rolls his eyes. “Well, good thing that you do know better, because I obviously would’ve won.”

“Obviously.” Your eyes glint, like they have so many times before.

—

“How bad does it hurt?”

Your hand is soft in his as he glances at his wrist, propped up on a stack of books, then into the small fire burning a few feet away. “Not that much,” he answers. “Thanks for splinting it.”

“Thanks for talking me through it.” You breathe in, head on his shoulder, testing the words on your tongue before you continue. “I was worried. I’m glad it’s feeling better.”

A wrist sprain is nothing to write home about, figuratively speaking. It’s more of an inconvenience than an actual concern; Five figures that the injury will heal in a week, a week and a half at the most. Frankly, he’s more concerned about how much longer it’ll take to complete daily tasks in the meantime.

… You, on the other hand – well, he wonders if you’ve ever gotten anything more than a few cuts and scrapes growing up. The closest he had ever seen you get to panicking was after he fell today, and you’ve been wandering around with him for years.

In a strange way, Five thinks, he was glad for it. He is glad for you. Glad for your presence, your level head. He is glad for the way you hold his hand and talk to him during the day and after dark. And he is glad, secretly, that you want to protect him just like he wants to protect you.

“I love you.”

The words slip out, rough and unbidden.

Five holds his breath when they echo in his ears. You stop tapping your fingers over his skin. Perhaps that’s a bad thing. It was not a mistake, of course, and he isn’t going to take it back, but if that wasn’t what you were saying this whole time – shit. He lets go of your hand, his throat scratchy and strangely closed up.

But then – your fingertips brush his face. He swallows.

“I love you too.”

[little-writers-posts]

Shall We Dance, Sunflower? (Elliot 'Mirage' Witt x GN Reader)

Author's Note: Hello! I wrote this because it has been on my mind for a while, so I wanted to let it out. I hope you like it! Please, excuse my writing, if anything is misspelt it is because English isn't my native language, but I did my best, :D

Warnings: SLIGHT SPOILER OF THE BOOK, if you have not read it yet it contains a bit of the lore on the book, mainly about Mirage's past.

Word Count: 2397

(Y/N's POV)

‘Meet me at the bar tonight? Got a surprise ;)’

I looked over at my phone, ‘Elliot’ was written on it and I felt my heart skip a beat.

Ever since I joined the games, I have grown close to all the other legends, however, I’ve had a soft spot for the curly haired man for a while now. We’ve been getting closer ever since we got teamed up the first time, Mirage has always been there for me, had my back in every game, even when we’re in different teams, he manages to get to me.

We’ve been meeting often at his bar, after each match. Lately, I’ve been staying a little longer than the rest of the group, even after Wraith and Rampart, Elliot and I have been talking back and forth about our lives outside of the games, getting to know each other, and surprisingly, his company is really good, and I started looking forward to our little chat at the end of each night. Most of the times I even help getting the bar cleaned and he walks me home. Slowly I’ve started to like him more and more.

It’s obvious that I find Elliot handsome, but his ways are the ones that really get to me, he may be an idiot, but sure as hell he makes me laugh like no other, and deep down he cares a lot about his friends, his family. He’s been through so much in his life, yet he still manages to have a positive view of life.

I got my phone and texted back.

‘Sure thing, handsome. What you got for me?’

‘Well, sunshine, it’s a surprise, so you’ll have to wait and see. Come by at 9 pm. :D’

I smiled and looked over at the clock, still, a couple of hours to go, so I got in the shower, got a nice set of clothing and some light makeup, nothing too fancy and then order some dinner.

When it was time, I left my apartment and went to Elliot’s bar. I noticed that the door was closed, it’s a bit weird since he usually has the bar opened at this hour. I knocked on the door and heard him urging me to go inside.

Once I got in, I saw him cleaning some of the cups, as soon as his eyes landed on me, he got a huge smile on his face.

“Welcome to the Witt’s, sunflower”

“Hey, handsome. Where’s everyone?”

“What do you mean everyone?... OH, the bar! Right, I closed it early today, didn’t have a lot of customers, so…”

“I see… So what you got for me, Witt? I’ve been looking forward to your surprise.”

I sit down on one of the stools near the counter, right in front of Elliot and let my chin rest on my hand.

“Someone’s pretty eager… Well, I… drumroll please!” He made little movements with his fingers as drumsticks while hitting the counter “I made a new bevi… bevere… cocktail!”

Elliot cheered as he shows me a couple of bottles.

“And I want you to be the first to try, sunshine! I mean, I’ve already tried it, but I want someone else’s opinion.” He said as he took out a glass and some drinks.

“Am I going to die, Elliot?” The amount of alcohol he was pouring mixing with other fruits was unbelievable.

“I’m still here, so I don’t think so. Plus, I´ll kill you in the ring, not outside. Although, I think Revenant might kill all of us in our sleep.”

“I believe he might kill Loba first, to be honest” I grinned a little “Though I think he’ll have to face Bangs first, and she won’t go easy on him.”

“You think they are a thing? Loba and Anita, I mean.”

“I don’t know, but sure as hell, they look like it, and they look cute together.”

Elliot muttered something under his breath as he finished preparing the drink.

“What was that?”

“What was what? I didn’t say anything” Elliot nearly spilled the drink when he put it in front of me.

“I didn’t know that the great Mirage was afraid of speaking what’s on his mind. Guess you are afraid of something.”

“I don’t fear anything, sunshine. Now, you are the one afraid of having a taste, right?”

“No, no, I’ll taste it… eventually.”

I smiled. The drink had a yellowish colour and the smell seemed to burn my nostrils due to the alcohol, but I brought the glass to my lips and took a sip. Elliot was looking rather nervous at me, biting his bottom lip. I took another sip.

“So… How is it? C’mon, don’t leave me hanging, (Y/N).”

I laughed a little. “It’s great, Elliot, as surprising as it may seem, it tastes really good. You should definitely put it on the menu, the guys are gonna love it.”

“Really?? You don’t think I should add anything else, lemon or…”

“No, I like it the way it is, really.”

Elliot had the widest grin I’ve ever seen.

“Do you have a name for it yet?”

“Name? No, not really, I didn’t think about it.”

“You could name it ‘The Unwitty’” I laughed.

“What does that mean?” Elliot looked confused.

“Unwitty? It usually refers to someone who’s not clever, and I believe that after a few of these, you are definitely not the brightest person in the room” I said as I looked at the half-empty glass “Also, it rhymes a little with your last name, so it could be a pun, since… well… you know… you made the drink…”

“Well, that’s a lot cleveree… cleverir… more clever than what I thought”

“And what were you thinking?”

He looked at me and ended up scratching the back of his neck.

“Well, something in the lines of sunflower, maybe… or sunshine…”

“Oh, because of the colour! I get it! Never knew a drink with a name like that, but it should work.” I smiled.

“Yeah… the colour…”

Elliot started to pack up the drinks and clean what was left on the bar. He turned his back to me as I finished the drink, so I jumped over the counter and started to clean the dirty glasses in the sink.

“Hey, you don’t have to do that (Y/N)”

“It’s alright, you know that I like helping you out, plus I got a free drink” I smiled and bumped against his shoulder.

“Thanks, (Y/N).”

We finished cleaning the rest of the bar and I leaned against the counter, Elliot did the same on the other side. However, he did have a foolish grin on his face, like he was up to someth…

“I got an idea!” he clapped his hands and smiled at me.

“This can’t be good…”

“Of course it’s a good idea! I only have good ideas, sunshine!”

“Hm… No, not always, remember that one time on the zipline across Airbase…”

“No, no, no, no, no. That doesn’t count! It was all Crypto’s fault, not mine!!” He whined at me, pointing his finger like he was schooling me which made me laughed out loud “ANYWAYS, it is still pretty early to take you home, so…”

Elliot grabbed the Bluetooth controller for his sound equipment at the bar and started to go through the songs.

“What are you doing, Elliot?”

“Choosing a song.” He smiled.

“For what, exactly?” God, I think I know where this is going…

Elliot picked a pop song, one of those popular ones that are on the radio stations and stretched out his hand, bowing slightly to me.

“Shall we dance, sunflower?”

“No, absolutely not, sorry. Not happening.”

The look on his face was hilarious, I would’ve laughed harder if it wasn’t for his genuine heartbroken expression.

“But why…?”

“Elliot, dear… I don’t dance, I’ve never danced in my life, and I know I’m terrible at it. So, I’ll spare your toes and I won’t step on you.”

“I don’t mind it. Plus, I’m a pretty good dancer, I’m sure I can lead you through it.” He smiled and this time he took the liberty to take my hand and guided me to the centre of the bar.

“Elliot, this is not a good idea.” I shook my head in disbelief.

“Shhhh… I’ll guide you. Let Mirage take the lead.”

We started slowly moving at the rhythm of the song, shifting weight from one foot to the other and soon we were swinging backwards, dipping low and then soaring into the air. Elliot never let go of my hand and guided me through every move. I never felt so carefree and happy, in a small space it was just him and me having one hell of a good time.

I have no idea how many songs went by, my heart was pounding against my chest rapidly like I was in training. And then a slow melody came into play, Elliot’s smile grew wider, and he pulled me against him, one hand on my waist, the other holding my hand.

I looked up and his face was close to mine, my heart was beating faster than before, and I thought it wasn’t possible, and all the butterflies started to fly in my stomach.

Elliot started to guide me through the song once more, this time in a very slow rhythm, one step at a time.

“You’re doing great, sunshine.” He praised.

I felt my cheeks getting warmer and I looked away, anywhere but his face.

He then tried a turn, however, he stopped midway through, and pushed my back against his chest, the arm on my waist circled all the way as he hugged from the back, his other hand still holding on to mine. He leaned his face against mine, so our cheeks were touching. I felt like my breath got caught up in my throat and everything around us stopped.

We were still swinging slightly, but I could feel him moving his face, and then slowly he left a kiss on my neck.

And then another kiss.

And then another kiss.

And the last kiss had me shiver all over. He noticed.

“Seems like I found a sweet spot… Right?”

I smiled.

“Hm… I don’t know, maybe you should try it again, just to make sure.”

He chuckled, turning me back to face him. This time we were much closer than the last, so much that the tips of our noses were barely touching.

We stood still for what it felt like an eternity, I was too afraid to move, I didn’t want to ruin anything.

Elliot looked down, staring at my lips as he gulped.

“Damn… I want to kiss you so bad…” He whispered.

“Why don’t you…?”

“I’m scared, (Y/N).”

“Wha..”

I tried to look back into his eyes, but Elliot held me closer, and I had to rest my forehead against his shoulder.

“All my life, (Y/N), I saw the ones that I care about, the ones that I love, leaving me. I saw friends die, disappearing, leaving. It started with my father, who barely even knew me. Then, my brothers I couldn't even have a proper goodbye, because no one cared to try to find them. My mom is slowly leaving me, with each passing day her memory gets worse and I fear the day she won’t remember me at all and I…”

He was shaking a little which had me hugging him even more, trying to encourage him to talk to me.

“Elliot.”

“I can’t stand the thought of you leaving me, (Y/N), in any way. Makes my heart sting, my breath disappears, and my all body physically hurt. If anything happens to you while you’re with me, I’ll never forgive myself, I want to keep you safe, but it seems like I bring bad luck to everyone that I’m close to, and I can’t do that to you, (Y/N), not you…”

“Elliot, look at me.” I tried to push him lightly, but he wouldn’t let go. “Please, please look at me.”

He loosened his grip on me a little. I manage to look back into his eyes, and I realise that I’ve never seen those eyes that sad, bearing so much pain, that it started to hurt me too.

“Elliot, listen, I’m not going anywhere. I know how to defend myself and I’m here to stay, you’re stuck with me, at least as long as you’ll have me. If anything, you’ve been my good luck charm, ever since I joined the games you’ve had my back, you’re there for me every single time, you make me laugh more than anyone has ever made me, when I’m with you I’m genuinely happy like I have no cares in the world. We all have our ghosts, but we’re here to fight them, I’m here to help you, Elliot. You are the life and soul in every place you go, how could you ever be bad luck? You have a golden heart, and don’t tell yourself otherwise. Please, Elliot… I…”

He didn’t let me finish.

He held my check in his hand and leaned in, kissing me.

I never felt anything like that before, like he was made for me, all my thoughts were clouded by the feeling of his lips on mine. I reached my hand to the back of his neck, pampering with the hairs there.

I felt his tongue pushing its way into my mouth, and I let it. My heart was beating louder in my chest, my hands were shaking, but I wanted him to know how much I cared, how much I wanted him, how much I loved him, just him.

We fell breathless and broke the kiss, leaning our foreheads against each other.

“You have no idea, how long I’ve wanted that, and how much I needed you, (Y/N).”

I smiled and hugged his neck, pulling him more to me. His hands were massaging my back, up and down.

“My heart is beating so fast, it feels like it’s gonna jump out of my chest, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before, with anyone… Can we do it again?”

“Oh, Elliot, you don’t have to ask that. Of course, you can.”

He leaned in and we kissed once more.

If this is dancing… We definitely need to do that more often.

[auxiliarydetective]

Love and War, Chapter 8

Goodbye

i. | ii. | iii. | iv. | v. | vi. | vii. | viii. | ix. | x. | xi. | xii. | xiii.

AO3

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And so, Anita ended up staying with Easy Company. Starting the next day, they would be moving again. It was a welcome change of pace, especially compared to sitting around and freezing. After Bastogne, they were now in the area of Foy, a town fast in the Germans’ hands. As the days went by, Anita found herself getting more and more accepted into Easy. She made new acquaintances like Garcia, Andrews, Miller and Hashey and deepened her relationship with people like Buck Compton, Frank Perconte, Joe Toye and Donald Hoobler. First Sergeant Lipton was kind to her too, as he was kind to anyone. Even Lieutenant Dike sometimes talked to her, though the conversations were always very short and awkward. The poor man, “Foxhole Norman”, who seemed like he was in over his head. Either way, those little conversations with friends and acquaintances made the icy cold weather just a little easier to deal with. If you were complaining about the cold, at least you could do it together. But there were also moments that made cold showers, colder than the snow, run down Anita’s spine. Moments like the death of Donald Hoobler. It had been a single shot in the distance. Just one. Only a while later had she learned what had happened. Hoobler had been shot in the leg by the thing he had gone around bragging with to everyone, by his most prized loot, his luger. It had hit the main artery, leaving him to bleed out in panic and pain. But that was far from the worst. The worst was yet to come.

The day had started with Easy returning to its old position overlooking Foy, just at the edge of the woods. What had greeted them were shattered trees everywhere, a foreboding message of what was to come. That was artillery. Whatever Anita had believed to be artillery fire before had been nothing compared to the shellings here. The images of the trees around her made Anita think of her cheek wound. Splinters from these explosions wouldn’t have simply pierced her cheek, they could take out her entire leg.

Foxholes were being dug, an activity that Anita could almost say she enjoyed, simply because it made her feel the most useful. This time, she was helping Guarnere, gathering branches for his cover.

“Thanks Anita," he said and took back his little axe. “You’re a quick lumberjack.”

“It’s not like a had to chop down a tree, the Germans already did that for me," Anita explained. “I just had to chop off the branches. Do you need any more?”

“No, I think that’s enough.”

Together, they started arranging the branches to cover the foxhole, weaving them together to create a little wall.

“Hey, how’s your face?” Guarnere asked. “Is it healing well?”

“Well, I haven’t had any complaints yet," Anita said. “Probably gonna leave a scar though.”

“Eh, don’t worry about that. Scars don’t make you any less beautiful.”

“You’re always a charmer.”

“Of course. Gotta make sure you don’t regret stayin’. You ever miss bein’ a rigger?”

“Sometimes," Anita confessed. “But I miss Aldbourne for a different reason.”

“Bars? Warmth?”

“Showers. God, I would die for a shower right now. I feel so yucky.”

“Eh, you’re fine," Guarnere told her. “But if you ever wanna shower and you need someone to stand guard, ya let me know, alright?”

“Sure," Anita chuckled.

That was when an explosion went off, closely followed by another and another and another. The Germans had started firing on their position. Yells filled the air, barely audible over the noise. Guarnere pulled Anita into his chest as they cowered in the barely finished foxhole. In the middle of the chaos, Don plopped down next to them, covering his head. The shelling seemed to go on for hours, smoke clouding the skies, snow being whirled around, splinters flying through the air. When it was quiet again, it was almost haunting. Slowly, Guarnere let Anita go and gave her a pat on the back. The three of them, Anita, Don and Guarnere, looked over the foxhole like cautious rabbits.

“Maybe we should see if anybody’s hit," Don suggested, giving a voice to Anita’s thoughts.

“Eh, Malark, that’s what they want," Guarnere said. “The Krauts are trying to draw us out in the open.”

Anita’s ears were still ringing with the sound of the explosions when she heard a voice. It was pained, distorted, sending shivers down her spine.

“I gotta get up… I gotta get up…”

“Does anyone else hear that?” she gasped.

Both Don and Guarnere nodded.

“Is that Joe?” Guarnere asked.

For a few seconds, they all listened in silence.

“Yeah, I think that’s Joe," Don confirmed.

Anita remembered something: She still had one first aid packet left. Doc Roe had given it to her, along with schooling her once again that she should never put herself in danger to help another person. She should leave that up to the medics. But if the opportunity ever called for it, he had said, she could use the packet to save a life. It seemed that time was now. Joe Toye was out there, not too far away, sounding like he was in shock. He needed her help. Quickly, Anita got up but was immediately pulled back down.

“Stay," Guarnere said curtly, then hurried into the snow and the smoke to where the voice had come from.

“Stay in your foxholes!” another voice shouted further away. “Stay in your foxholes!”

Anita looked after him, clenching her gloved hands into fists. She wanted to be the one out there. She needed to know if Toye was okay. Her mind trailed back to the story about Hoobler. Joe Toye was probably in a similar state he was in, scared and in pain. At least Hoobler hadn’t been alone, but Toye was. He was all by himself. Or he would be until Guarnere reached him. Hopefully, it would all be okay.

“You alright?” Don asked, placing a hand on Anita’s arm.

This snapped her out of her thoughts. “Yeah, yeah… I’m just…”

“Worried about Joe?”

“Yeah. I feel bad just sitting here.”

“Bill’s gonna take care of him. He’s gonna be okay.”

Anita nodded quietly. She leaned against Don and closed her eyes, hoping to find a calmer piece of mind. But that attempt was cut short by another explosion. Another shelling. Immediately, Anita’s heart beat faster than machine gun fire. Toye and Guarnere were still out there! She tried to peek over the top of the foxhole, but Don pulled her down. This barrage was torture. It went on for what felt like hours, leaving Anita panicking inside over whether her friends were okay. They had to be okay. They had to have made it to a foxhole. Finally, the noise died down again. Anita looked around, trying to spot movement in the smoke.

“They’re okay, Annie," Don assured her. “They’re-“

“MEDIC!”

That was Buck Compton’s voice, but distorted and shaky. Immediately, Anita hurled herself out of the foxhole. This time, there was no stopping her. The call had come from the direction Joe Toye’s voice had also come from, from the direction Guarnere had run to. She could hardly see, hardly breathe in the smoke, but she kept going. Finally, she broke through the trees. Before her stood Buck Compton, his helmet in the snow next to him, his hands shaking. He was blankly staring at the ground in front of him. What he was looking at made Anita’s heart stop and shatter. On scarlet-colored snow lay her friends, Bill Guarnere and Joe Toye, unconscious. Both of them had been hit in the leg, but it was no ordinary wound. No. Toye had had his leg blown off, a large, bloody flesh wound right where a leg should have been. Guarnere’s leg was completely mingled, like a wild animal had torn it apart. The sight made Anita nauseous, but she could hardly feel it over the pain in her chest, the urge to scream and cry. But she didn’t. She knew she had to do something.

“Buck," she said softly, carefully approaching him. “Buck.”

He looked at her with widened eyes, his breathing shallow.

“You need to sit down, okay? Come on.”

She picked up his helmet from the floor and took him by the arms. It took some effort to turn his frozen body around, but finally he let himself be moved. Slowly, she guided him to a fallen tree nearby and sat him down.

“Drink some water," she suggested. “You’ll feel better. Everything is going to be okay. They’ll make it.”

She didn’t know if she believed what she said, but she told herself she did. Once he was safely settled down, she headed back to where Toye and Guarnere were, taking a deep breath. Who to help first? What could she even do for Guarnere? That was not a wound for first aid, that was- Oh god, it was awful. Quickly, she squatted down next to Toye, took off her gloves and pulled out her first aid packet. Where was that medic? What was taking him so long? Finally, right at that moment, Doc Roe came. Anita made space for him, letting him do his work. That was when Toye’s eyes fluttered open. Immediately, he started to breathe rapidly, pained groans escaping between each gasp for air.

“You’re okay, Joe, you’re okay," Anita told him, taking his hand. “You’re going to be okay.”

“I don’t want this anymore," Toye whimpered.

“You’ll be okay. Hang in there, Joe.” She ran her fingers across his cheek. “Just breathe.”

“Shit," she heard a groan behind her.

She turned around to see that Bill Guarnere had propped himself up. He was now wriggling around, trying to move. It reminded her hauntingly of Toye’s words. I gotta get up. I gotta get up.

“Hey, Bill, don’t move," she gasped.

She left Toye in the hands of Doc Roe and rushed to Bill’s side. Carefully, she wrapped an arm around him, giving him stability. He leaned against her limply, his breathing shallow from the pain.

“Somethin’ tells me I won’t recover from this too easy," he groaned.

“No, this is your ticket home," Anita said softly.

Steps approached in the snow and Don came out from behind the trees. His eyes were widened in shock. Quickly, he scrambled to the floor next to Joe Toye and helped him stay upright.

“What can I do?”

“You got a smoke?” Toye asked through gritted teeth.

Quickly, Don shook off his glove and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.

“Jesus, what’s a guy gotta do to get killed around here?” Toye moaned.

Whatever the cigarette Don gave him would do to help, Anita hoped it had the effect he wanted. Maybe, just maybe, it would distract him. From behind the trees, two men with a stretcher arrived.

“Bill, you’re going first," the medic said.

“Whatever you say, Doc," Bill groaned. “Whatever you say. - Hey, Anita?”

“Yes?” Anita replied, squeezing his shoulders.

“How about you kiss me goodbye?”

A chuckle escaped Anita from somewhere deep down, despite her feeling nothing like laughing. Before the two men came to pick him up, she pressed a kiss on his cheek and ran her fingers through his hair. When he was lifted onto the stretcher, Bill cried out in pain at the sudden movement, sending shivers down Anita’s spine.

That was when Lipton arrived.

“Hey, Lip. They got ol’ Guarnere this time," Bill announced as if apologetically.

Lipton just stared, then looked around as if trying to assess the situation.

“Hey, Joe," Bill said as they carried him off, “I told ya I’d beat ya back to the states.”

That was the last Anita heard from him. She stared at him for a few seconds, then forced herself to look away. Her eyes wandered around as if she had been taken out of a trance. Then, she saw Luz coming towards the group from where Compton still sat, his head in his hands.

“Hey, Lip," Luz said somberly, as if to announce something. But when he saw Joe Toye, whimpering and gasping for air on the ground, his leg missing, he froze.

“How’s Buck?," Lipton asked. But he got no response. “Luz! How’s Buck?”

“He’s fine," Luz replied quietly.

“You sure?”

“Yes, he’s fine. … You should probably go talk to him now, huh?”

“Alright.”

So, Lipton left to go see Compton. Luz stood there for a while, looking like any gust of wind could knock him over. Then, he headed off. Anita watched him leave, nausea twisting her insides. She took one more look at Joe Toye on the ground. He was in good hands, she told herself. Don and Doc Roe would take care of him. Buck Compton had someone to look after him now, too. But there was one person who had nobody. So, Anita followed Luz through the trees. She found him sitting in a foxhole, all by himself.

“Hey," she said softly.

“Hey," he replied, trying to force a smile.

She sat down in the foxhole next to him and looked him in the eyes. They were empty, hollow. Their usually warm and lively brown had turned cold.

“How do you feel?”

“Peachy," he said. “Never been better.”

With shaky hands, he reached in his pocket and pulled out a cigarette pack. His eyes fixated on something in the distance, he popped it open and fished around inside, only to find out that it was empty.

“Shit," he murmured.

Quickly, Anita opened her bag and pulled out her own, still full pack of cigarettes, offering it to him. That got his attention. Finally, he looked her in the eyes.

“I thought you didn’t smoke," he said as he took one of the cigarettes and started searching his pockets for his lighter.

“I don’t. But they gave me a pack when I left for Bastogne, just like everyone else got one," Anita explained. “Figured I might as well keep it. You never know when someone might need a smoke.”

That was when George Luz smiled again, even if just a little. It was the faint hint of a smile, but it was enough. As he fumbled with his lighter, just a little of his usual self was back.

“Here, let me help you," Anita offered.

She took his lighter and lit his cigarette for him. The smoke that now started to fill the air made her feel at home. In a way, she had started associating it with Easy Company. Those nights in the pub at Aldbourne. It reminded her of Don, Luz… but also of Bill. Her body tensed up at the memory, making her want to puke out her intestines.

“Hey, where’d you leave your gloves?” Luz asked, taking one of her hands and puffing a cloud of warm smoke onto it.

Now it was Anita whose hands were shaking. One was occupied by Luz, the other she used to cover her mouth to muffle a sob. She had left her gloves with Joe Toye.

“Come here," Luz said softly and pulled her into his arms.

She let him, unable to resist anything and yearning for human touch as some sort of remedy to her pain. Her whole body shaking with her sobs, she clung on to him like a lifeline.

“It’s okay," Luz told her, rubbing his hands across her back. “Let it out. It’s gonna be okay.”

They stayed like this for a while. Over and over, he told her that it would be okay, comforted her, made her feel safe, understood. Slowly but surely, Anita’s breathing calmed, her sobs faded away, her thoughts stopped spinning. Finally, she took a deep breath and pulled herself out of Luz’s comforting arms.

“I’m sorry," she mumbled.

“Don’t be," he replied.

“You keep having to deal with my emotions. That’s gotta be tough.”

“Hey, that’s what friends are for.”

“You’re a good friend.”

“You too. Anyone who offers me smokes is a good friend.”

“I take it back, you’re awful.”

“There’s the Anita I know.”

“You want another smoke for later?”

“Always.”

So, Anita once again pulled out her cigarette pack and took out a few cigarettes, transporting them from her pack into Luz’s.

“And when you light it…”

“I’ll think of my favourite wacko, the pinup angel who gifted it to me.”

“That’s the spirit.”

They stayed in silence for a while, watching the grey skies. Anita rubbed her hands together, trying to somehow keep them warm. She breathed in the smoke as Luz took the last drag of his cigarette and watched as he threw the remains of it away with a light flick of his hand. That was when Don approached from behind.

“There you are, Annie," he said and came down into the foxhole. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Sorry, sorry," Anita said. “I had to make a social call.”

“Those are your gloves, right?”

Anita looked at the black woolen gloves in his hands, then at her own hands, reddened with the cold.

“Yeah," she said a little faintly. “Can’t go too long without 'em in this god-awful weather.”

[fyeahnix]

Title: Happy (Unofficial) Birthday, Wraith! Pairing: Bangalore/Wraith (Voidstrike) Other Characters: Rampart Rating: G for General Audiences Words: 1232 Prompt: For #happybdaywraith on Twitter Other Tags: Cute, Happy Birthday, Surprise Party Summary: Anita has a surprise for Wraith.

If you like it PLEASE REBLOG. You can read it here or on AO3, via the link found in the notes of this post. Please read on AO3 if you prefer correct formatting!

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Slamming back a few free drinks with her girlfriend sounds like the perfect end to a rather lonely day for Wraith. Lounging in bed on Solace’s most blazing days could be fun, relaxing even. Cool air conditioning more than alleviates her purring cat and Anita’s hot bodies nestled against her. But when a cold front blows into the city to drop the highs to rare pleasant levels, who wants to be cooped up inside? Not Wraith. Too bad the string of hangout rejections lining her messages list sent her crawling back under the blankets this morning.

Shoving her less-than-stellar mood aside, the evening is perfect. Not a single biting breeze wisps through the air. A beautiful sunset adorns the clear sky behind the Paradise Lounge's shoddy sign. It’s not on, which is odd considering that means the place is closed.

Anita greets her outside of the bar, throwing her a lazy salute and loving half-smile. Golden rays cast against her sharp jawline and highlight one beautiful brown eye. Absolutely gorgeous as usual. Anita's embrace is the sun—warm and welcoming—and Wraith finds herself lost in the glow, feet now barely kissing the ground.

She melts at the rumbling of "hey, beautiful" caressing the shell of her ear. A blitz of kisses peppers her cheek, jaw, and lips. Anita wraps strong arms around her midsection, and a sultry laugh escapes Wraith, rolling right into a gentle purr.

"What's gotten into you?" she asks.

Anita hums, kisses her one last time and releases her. "Haven't seen ya in a few days. 'Member that Triple Take you tagged me in the back with a couple days ago? Wanted to tell you in person how much that turned me on."

Wraith tuts Anita with a playful push to her chest.

"And… you look amazing."

"Thanks. Though, I'm not exactly sure why I'd need to dress up to drink with you. At the Paradise Lounge of all places. Not exactly the gold standard of a Solace bar."

Anita had asked her to wear something nice. If "nice" means a simple low-cut top and fitted jeans, then Wraith considers the outfit a success. She's no wizard when it concerns fashion. Loba deserves all the credit there as Wraith would be lost if not under her tutelage. Still, Anita can't seem to tear her eyes off Wraith, so maybe her choice of clothing isn't as bad as she feared.

"Stop gawking. You're making me nervous," Wraith says.

Anita chuckles, but finally does tear her eyes away. "What can I say? Can’t help it."

"'Nita…" Wraith whines. "Seriously though, it's Witt's. What's the occasion?"

"Got a little event goin' on tonight. Wanted you to be my date."

“Wow, I get to be my own girlfriend’s date to a mystery event." she deadpans. "I’m honored.”

"Yeah, you better be. Could have asked Che instead." Anita dodges the playful swipe at her midsection, dancing around before wrapping Wraith up in a gentle hug from behind. "C'mon. Gonna miss the party."

"P-Party?"

What's going on here? In what dimension would Anita ever ask her to dress up for the Paradise Lounge of all places? And this "event" is a party? Not exactly her or Anita’s idea of a good time, but…

"Trust me" comes the reassuring whisper in her ear. And her world goes dark. Anita’s hands rest over her eyes and Wraith exhales a weak “hey” in protest. Had this been anyone else, she’d be reaching for the kunai tucked into her jeans to slash at an unprotected jugular.

"Let's walk. I got you, don't worry."

The Voices offer her nothing but silence at her plight, as if they're in on the joke and smirking in their own dimensions. Not entirely an unfamiliar situation as they're usually quiet around Anita. It's an extra level of humor that calms her nearly as much as Anita's solid form right at her back.

The trek forward is careful, one foot in front of the other into the dark abyss. It's Anita leading her, really, with awkward footing just behind hers. Wraith counts the steps: one, two… eleven, twelve, thirteen. And they stop.

Anticipation bubbles inside Wraith. She trembles, a thrill of fear and excitement rolling up her spine. The familiar creak of the door opening fills her ears. They take a few more steps inside, and the savory aroma of food makes her mouth water. There's no classic rock or hip-hop blaring, no glasses clinking against wood grain counters, and no slurred voices galavanting about winnings in recent matches. It’s quiet, unusual. A snicker leaks out to her immediate right.

"Hah! Look at her face. She looks so dang confused."

Ramya…?

"'Nita, what's going on?" Wraith says. She tugs at Anita's wrists—a gentle plea to restore her sight.

Her girlfriend chuckles in her ear, followed by a near inaudible whisper. "Happy unofficial birthday, baby."

Wraith's eyes widen when Anita's hands lower. The Paradise Lounge, while still the grungy little dive bar it's always been, is dressed up and decorated. Balloons waft through the air and skitter across the floor as Natalie and Ajay juggle them. Rainbow party streamers hang and sway from the bar and lights. Top-shelf whiskey and bourbon line the bar with a selection of the sloppiest, greasiest comfort food on Solace—burgers, pizza, wings. Ramya points at a large white banner hanging from the rafters, splattered in black and ultra violet paint in her and Witt's semi-awful handwriting:

Happy (Unofficial) Birthday Wraith!!

At the end of the message is a smug but angry-looking black cat with her “signature” bun and a kunai in its mouth. Definitely Ramya's work. It's… cute to say the least. A little embarrassing but all in good fun.

The handful of Legends scattered about the bar beam and wave at her, exclaiming their birthday wishes in their own unique ways. It’s not everyone, and that’s more than fine with her.

Overall, the entire setup is… unexpected. Truly. All this… for her? Latent memories of her old life are gone for good, never to return. No itch of familiarity burns in the back of her mind. She’s quite sure this experience, this built memory, is entirely brand new to her.

"I, uh—I don't… I don't know what to say," she murmurs.

"Don't have to say anything," Anita whispers back. “Just want you to have fun.”

It finally hits her that this small group likely worked their entire off day setting this up and pulling this off, Anita leading the charge. It feels silly now harking back to the lack of communication from earlier, and even more criminal to not appreciate the hard work at first glance. But no one stares at her expectedly. No one expects a single thing from her.

Wraith's eyes burn and her throat closes. Oncoming tears, right in front of her friends. Great. She inhales a deep and shaky breath, fingers fumbling back to find Anita's welcoming hand. Squeezes it tight.

"They're waiting," Anita says, squeezing back. "Wanna get the celebration started?"

Wraith wipes the corners of her eyes. She inhales shakily as Anita massages a thumb over her claimed hand. Silly of her to assume this group didn't care about her. The love and care put into this party says everything. The lingering sadness and frustration from earlier slowly melt away, and she gives a quick and final nod.

"Of course."

[lunamadhatter99]

Told you

Part 4

I see you're liking it very much, that makes want to keep going and posting.

So here's 4th chapter, and I'm already halfway with the 5th. Hope you'll enjoy it, leave a comment to let me know what you think, if you have questions or something

Chapter summary: just the dance.

Warning: nothing much in this chapter I think. Maybe Riff being cute (?)

I arrive at the gym and I instantly spot Grazi, I wave at her as I near.

"Look who showed up!" She exclaim hugging me.

"Hey hey" I hug her back.

She lets me go and looks at me, from head to toe.

"You look great! How dare you?" She jokes.

"Me? Look at you" I answer her.

"Oh the boys are gonna faint when they see you" she winks "especially one"

"Mh mh" I give her a look, almost to say to keep it quiet.

We join the other girls and right after the boys come in too.

"Finally" one of the girls says.

"Someone's eager to dance" I comment with Grazi and Velma.

"Someone's eager, yes, but not to dance" Velma tells me with a mischievous look.

"I didn't want to be vulgar, my parents wouldn't approve such language" I say faking arrogance.

"Since when do you care about what your parents think?" Grazi laughs.

"Never cared" I simply answer "especially after tonight, I'll never care again"

"What do you mean?" Velma is curious.

"I'll tell you some other time, tonight all I wanna do is dancing" I tell her.

"Someone pinch me, am I dreaming or is THE Y/n really here?" Balkan screams as the boys near. I can see Riff looking at me up and down with a look I can't quite figure out, he looks actually surprised I showed up, but also please, and.. relieved.

"I'd gladly punch, if you want" I challenge him.

"Careful he would like it" Diesel warns me shoving Balkan away, he offers me his hand.

"Shall we?" He asks.

"She wants to dance, Diesel, not losing a foot" Riff finally speaks.

"I'm the best choice then, am I right, beautiful?" Ice steps in, appearing to my left.

"I don't know, maybe we should test it, right Riff?" I turn to Riff with a raised eyebrow smiling.

"At your own risk" he challenges back.

So I take Ice's hand, send a wink at Riff and we go dancing with the rest.

Ice is a good dancer, he makes me turn and grabs me without stepping on my feet, so I can't really complain.

As we dance I feel Riff's eyes on me, he doesn't like it when his friends flirt with me, let alone if they dance with me. Not like a possessive way though, I think he'd just like to know everybody else knows we're a thing.

Not that we are.. I mean.. I don't know. I was always focused on protecting him from what my parents might do that I never actually thought about what I feel about him, yeah we flirt and joke around... but I never thought about it.

But now, without worrying about them maybe something could happen.. I don't know, it seems so complicated still.

We keep dancing, but then I stop when I hear the gym doors opening and seeing Bernardo and the rest of the sharks entering.

Some of the Jets look at them in annoyance, but I simply rush to them leaving Ice behind.

"Anita! Que linda" I tell her.

"Ooh that's the dress I made you? Told you, mira que figura" she hugs me.

I notice Maria, I'm surprised to see her here, but also happy. It's been a while since I've last seen her.

"Maria! Hi! How are you?" I go to hug her too.

"Bien, and you?" She smiles at me.

"Good, thank you, you look beautiful. Love the belt" I wink at her.

"Yeah Anita me ha salvado, it was her idea" she tells me.

"Hi there, Chino right?" I turn to the guy accompanying Maria.

"Sì si" he's quite nervous, I can tell, I just don't know if he's more scared of Bernardo or just nervous because of Maria.

"Nice to meet you" I shake his hand.

"So, let's dance!" Anita takes Bernardo's hand leading him to the dance floor.

I walk with Maria and Chino by the side of the gym simply watching everyone dancing, I do need to catch my breath.

I watch everyone having fun for a while talking to Maria, when Riff appears in front of me, almost out of nowhere.

"C'mon, pretty girl" he holds his hand out for me to take nodding to where everyone else is dancing.

I send him a smile before taking his hand letting him lead me.

We dance and dance, without a single worry.

His eyes fixed on mine, smiling like I've never seen.

We keep dancing until Riff's back hits Bernardo's.

Riff turns around to adress him.

"You wanna dance, buddy?" He asks him.

And then both Sharks and Jets start to come at each other ready to throw punches.

I try to calm Riff, but luckily officer Krupke makes everyone stop and the principal starts explaining "the mixing" part of the dance.

Women gathered in a small circle facing out and the men in a circle around them facing him, we're supposed to walk until the music stops and dance with whoever is in front of us. Easy.

No one moves for a few moment, the first to move is Bernardo. The sharks cheer him and, then, Anita when she joins him.

Then I feel Riff moving to take part of the forming circle, Jets cheering him too.

He then hold his hand out for me, which I gladly take. As I walk beside Anita she sends me a questioning, but also mischievous look, she's gonna tease me like crazy later.

Everybody else follows and soon both circles are made, the music starts and women and men start walking in opposite direction.

The music stops and I found myself in front of Quique I smile at him which he returns gladly. He's such a nice guy always ready to help, Anita affirms he had a crush on me at some point, but honestly I think he was just being nice.

I turn around to see Anita in front of Riff.

Oh okay.. Bernardo won't like it, I think.

"¡Oye, Javi, ponle fuego, vamos!" Anita exclaims before ignoring the previous instructions and taking Bernardo's hand.

I turn to dance with Quique, but he's basically shoved away from Riff, who takes my hand making me spin before pulling me to him.

"Missed me?" He smirks.

As I dance all I can feel is happiness and calmness, I know my parents will probably do something about me basically running away, but at the moment I really don't give a shit about them. I want to dance with Riff, I want to dance with my friends, I don't want to worry about anything else.

We stop dancing to catch our breath and I immediately go find Anita to talk to her about what happened tonight.

"¡Ay querida! You danced gratefully" Anita takes my hand.

"Not as good as you, my dear" I compliment her.

I then lower my voice "can I talk to you, por favor? Bernardo too?" I ask her.

"Sure, is everything okay?" She's getting worried. She then calls Bernando and we leave the group for more privacy.

As I tell them what happened with my parents I could clearly see Anita getting rather angrier than worried, and Bernando clenching his jaw and fists.

"No te preocupes, you can stay with us" she tells me, I want to tell her that I won't stay long, only until I find a new place to stay, but she beats me "for as long as you need, ¿claro?"

"And if you want I can take care of your parents, the Sharks will be more than happy to help" Bernardo offers.

"No no, for as much as I'd like it, I don't want you guys to get in trouble" I tell him.

"A word and we go, anytime" he jokes.

"Thank you, for.. for everything"

"Oh no no, no need to thank us, you're family" Anita hugs me.

I feel my eyes tearing up. Family. She did say family.

"Now now, no tears tonight" Anita caresses my face "tonight is only for dances" .

We then talk for a while longer, but we get interrupted by Bernardo going to find Maria behind the bleachers, from where Tony emerges a few moments after.

Bernardo immediately jumps on him, asking "what was he doing with her sister".

Anita goes to calm him and Riff goes to defend his friend.

I watch from afar as some of the Jets and some of the Sharks head to the bathroom.

I walk to Anita.

"What the hell happened?" I ask her.

"I honestly don't want to think about it" she answers.

When everyone comes back from the bathroom, Riff walk towards me.

"Follow me, pretty girl" he asks.

He leads me to an empty hallway.

"Tell me you didn't do what I think you did" I beg.

"What do you think I did" he ask curiously.

"Organising a fight with the sharks"

"What if I did?" He challenges.

"Then you're even more stupid than I thought. All of you" I simply answer.

"It needs to be done" he shrugs.

"No it doesn't" I sigh "You're just gonna get in trouble"

"Worried for me?" He smirks.

"Yes"

His smirks drops as fast as it appeared and we stay in silence for a few minutes before he breaks it.

"So..." he starts, he seems pondering what to say next.

"So...?"

"What happened?" He asks, face dead serious and eyes burning into mine. He definitely won't accept "nothing to worry about" as an answer.

"You overheard my conversation with Anita and Bernardo?" I'm not surprised.

"Maybe" he's still serious, he won't let me walk away without an answer.

I sigh "my parents.. they wanted me to go to this stupid dinner so I can meet this pervert selfish prick, who, according to my parents, has to be my husband. I said I was busy and they said that if they didn't see me at the dinner then I shouldn't bother going back home" I explain, looking down at my feet "and yeah, it's pretty much it"

I feel him getting closer and then his arms around me.

"I'm sorry" he simply says "You're the last person to deserve it"

"You've gone through worst, Riff I-"

"That doesn't mean you deserve to be treated like that" he cuts me off.

He keeps hugging me for a while longer, it feels nice. I don't know how he does this, but he always manages to take all my worries away.

He breaks the hug to look at me in the eyes.

"Did you had fun dancing with Ice?" There it is, that smirk back on his face.

I laugh at this jealousy.

"He's a good dancer" I answer.

"Just good?"

"Yeah, well he's not you" I smirk too.

"Oh so you did like our dance"

"Well, not that I had a choice, I owed you one" I inform him.

"Glad you kept your promise" he winks.

"You're just different from the other" I tell him. Our face only a few inches apart.

"And why's that?" His eyes are on my lips.

"You don't touch me when I don't want to, you unconsciously ask for permission. Always"

Riff's eyes are back on mine and a genuine smile appears on his lips.

I lean closer, but he stops me.

I look at him quite confused, I have to admit it.

"you know, I was just teasing you today" he admits "if you don't want to, you don't have to kiss me"

I laugh slightly.

"But I do want to" I answer him.

He looks at me, incredulously. He blinks a few times, almost to check if he was dreaming or not.

"Then go ahead, girly girl" he says smiling.

I lean closer again and finally our lips meet.

I never expected Riff to be this sweet, instead he caresses my cheek gently.

I back away a bit until my back is against the wall. His other hand on my waist. My hands on his chest, grabbing at his shirt.

We break the kiss, Riff's hand still caressing my face.

"I.. I.. ehm.. shit" he laughs embarrassed.

"Are you nervous?" I ask incredulously.

"You... you're literally something else, pretty girl" he looks down.

I put my hand on his face to make him look at me and then lean towards him again to leave a quick peck on his lips.

"You're so cute"

"Shut up" his forehead on mine, enjoying the moment.

Moment interrupted by Anita.

"Y/n! We're leaving, you coming?" She asks.

"Coming!" I scream at her before she enters the gym again.

"See you, baby boy" I send him a wink before heading back to the gym to find Anita.

"I knew it!" He screams.

"That doesn't change anything" I scream back.

I turn my head to see him smiling to himself.

Okay, well.. maybe I do have feelings for him.

[unholyplumpprincess]

Take Care of You

Fic for @fyeahnix ! Thank you so much for your patience during this!!! This also is a sequel for her other fic, ‘Don’t wanna forget a thing’, but can be read as a stand alone!

Ao3 link here

Summary: Wraith and her no good, awful, terrible day. Nothing is going right, stress is piling up, plans aren't going right, and to top it all off she can't sleep. She's gonna have to finally suck up her pride and ask her girlfriend to come over and help her sleep. But, Anita has better plans than just sleeping to help ease her girlfriend.Or! In which Anita takes care of Wraith in more ways than just helping her de-stress.

!!!Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked!!!

Reblogs > Likes - If you hit Like on this, please Reblog to support more future content like this :D

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Bangalore/Wraith

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, fluffy moments, mentions of Wraith’s depression, Anita tops with a dragon dildo and it’s gr8, rimming + anal play

Words: 9.5k

_____________

Life could be cruel. 

A statement that Wraith had made herself familiar with for quite some time. Though, she supposes, that this could not be the cruelest it could be. No, this was nothing like when she found out of her past- or... one of her pasts. It could get confused on who and which ‘she’ she was thinking of. Or even if they were a ‘she’ at all. Or what path, which life, which people, which-- 

Sigh. 

Exhausting. It's all too exhausting to consider. Every path, every outcome, every recent nightmare plaguing her mind and making her even more irritable. Nightmares that she didn’t know if they were of watching a life of hers get hurt, another path. Or if it was simple fears that every person had. 

Everything just seemed to be going wrong for her. It started off small enough, her nightmares had been triggered back into place. Insomnia making her dark under eyes look more like bruises nowadays and not helped by the way she rubs her eyes in exhaustion.  

Natalie, bless whatever planet she came from, would always chide her and gently move her hands from her face once she noted Wraith’s nails starting to sink into flesh. Wraith was forever grateful to her, but she wasn’t about to let Natalie believe she had to take care of her in any form of the manner. 

Natalie wasn’t her keeper, not her mother. But whenever Wraith would gently try to tell Natalie that she had this, she’d get a look from her best friend. One that was so gentle with a soft reminder from her glossy pink lips. 

“You do not have to do everything alone either.”

!Rest under the cut here!

A statement Wraith was familiar with. She��d been doing things on her own since she could remember. It just seemed hard to break that habit. To feel like she needed to do it on her own, to try and succeed when she knew it would be better to have even one shoulder to lean on.  

Relationships and friendships required balance, equality. She had to allow herself to get just as much as she gave. 

Harder than it sounded. 

On day three of her awful week, she looks at her phone for a moment in the night. Her thumb resting over the call button of the name ‘Handsome’ with a heart and ring emoji beside it. Cheesy, she’s aware. But for a moment, she thinks of calling Anita or even texting her. 

Just asking for her to be there. 

She would be. Wraith knew she would drop whatever she was doing to come take care of her, make sure she was okay. Wraith could practically taste Anita’s grape lip balm on her lips, the taste of mint on her tongue. The hint of gun smoke that always clung to Anita’s frame. The deepness of her cologne. 

Anita’s presence was like the first drink of water in the morning. The first warm bliss of sunshine after being in the biting cold. The first taste of warm food when you’d had a shitty day. Her presence was like that of comfort. 

Her home. 

In the end, she puts her phone face down. Welcoming another sleepless night with too many people talking. Too much tossing and turning. Too much yearning in her heart, but too much of a stubborn fool to do anything about it. 

-- 

The season is about midway through. Wraith had a strong start, topping the charts with her ferocity. Spurred on by Anita on an opposite squad and making her feel a bit more hectic in her need to hunt her girlfriend down. To pin her by her neck, dig her knees into Anita’s hand and murmur, “Surprise.” in her ear to watch those pretty freckled cheeks flush and a snarl uplifting one side of Anita’s lips before she stabbed her kunai into her throat. 

Flirting with your girlfriend just got more vicious when you were a part of a blood sport. 

Halfway through the season, they paired her with new people who were hoping to get in to call themselves Legends. Most wanted the glory all to themselves, going off as a solo only to get foolishly killed. Of course they did. This was a team sport, after all. But that left Wraith open and on her own. Just another body bag to take off the battlefield. 

Day five, she looks at her phone again. Thumb hovering over the text box that led to her and Anita’s conversation.  

It would be so easy.  

She would come if we just asked.  

Don’t you miss her?  

We miss her.  

Text her-  

Call her-  

Just press the button, you dumb girl-  

The girls, as Wraith has been recently referring to the voices after Anita lovingly calling them ‘Her Ladies’- as they are just people as well. They always have an opinion when it involves Anita. Wraith has always wondered if in all her other lives if they were with her as well, or if all of them had the same attraction. If they even all knew her from various lives. 

That sometimes made her smile. A childish desire to believe soulmates were real. 

Whatever the answer, they all had an opinion about the sunshine in Wraith’s life. Normally trying to get her to do like she’s considering now: Getting Anita into her quarters. 

Wraith huffs. Placing the phone face down on the nightstand and resting in bed with an arm over her eyes as an uproar of voices start trying to convince her to change her mind or to do something saucy to get Anita’s attention. 

-- 

Plans with Natalie fall through at the end of the week. She’s had a breakthrough on a project, meaning she needed to focus all her attention there to possibly prevent a meltdown. She apologizes profusely, but Wraith is quick to tell her she understands and to not worry, they can try for another day. Wraith promises to check in on her in a few hours to make sure she’s not forgetting to eat either, as she knows how Natalie can be when on the brink of something this big. 

So that falls to plan B of Elliott having told Wraith that he and Pathfinder were going to be having a night at the bar and she was free to join. But when Wraith calls him for that, he explains apologetically that Ramya wasn’t feeling too hot today so he was staying in to make sure she was doing okay. Siting something about not leaving family behind. 

It’s sweet, and understandable. Wraith once again explains that she understands, but when the call ends, she feels so horribly exhausted and at her wits end. A sigh on her lips, rubbing at her face and feeling on the very last leg of her thread. 

When she lies on her bed for the seventh day of the week, she stares at the ceiling with a blank expression. In desperate need of something. Anything.  

A sigh escapes her, her brows furrowing and coming to the realization all at once. 

She has to swallow her pride and call her girlfriend. 

It’s not that she doesn’t want to- oh she’s wanted to all week. But it’s...hard to admit to someone that you aren’t okay. That you just need someone there. Not to mention she feels a tinge of guilt. Whenever she had a bad time, her comfort was her girlfriend. To be wrapped in her arms and hear her soothing voice calming her. To smell her cologne and know her worries were put at ease with an easy kiss to the forehead and a tuck of her hair behind her pierced ear. 

Not like Anita hadn’t noticed Wraith doing well- attentive as she was. Wraith just kept saying she had it, that she was fine. Her poor defense mechanism kicking in and pushing away even the woman she loved. 

It’s hard enough for her to even sit up and grab the phone, once again hesitating before forcing herself to just send a simple ‘Hey’ text to her. Telling herself that if Anita said she was busy or even if she wasn’t going to respond because she was already asleep- that Wraith would drop it immediately. That she’d find something else- 

Ting, ting!  

Her phone lights up, casting a blue glow in the dim room and making Wraith’s heart pound at the quick reply. She feels like a teenager as her fingers wrap around her phone and flipping it to look at the text. Her heart does a flutter, feeling relief already in her body and tears pricking her eyes when she sees the text given back to her. 

‘hey boo whats goin on?’ 

A small, tired but fond laugh crosses Wraith’s lips. Rubbing at her eyes to steady herself and feeling a bit ridiculous for having worked herself up to the brink. But exhaustion still wears out her bones. Wraith sinks down onto the ground, pressing her back to her bed and sitting cross legged as she begins typing. 

She erases what she’s writing a few times, starting to become frustrated. Nothing sounds right- or it sounds too needy. Too whiny. Too wanting. But she finally settles on one. 

Honesty. 

‘I just miss you.’ 

That’s what she types at first, letting it sink in before swallowing her pride once more and beginning to type again. 

‘And I...’ 

A moment of hesitation to continue when she hits enter the first time. 

‘I feel like shit. Been having a rough week. Was wondering if you could come over tonight so I could get a few hours of sleep?’ 

When she hits send again, she debates deleting it. But when the read icon pops up in two seconds flat, she knows she’s got Anita’s full attention. 

Something about that makes her feel terribly wanted . 

‘of course pumpkin’ 

Wraith hates that it makes her smile, tired and soft. Pressing her hand to her cheek and feeling a bit ridiculous just how a confirmation and a nickname could make her heart flutter. 

‘be over in twenty’ 

Wraith clicks her phone screen closed. Moving to stand to go take a shower so she at the very least looked half presentable for Anita. Even if her body screams at her to just lie down already. 

Ting ting!  

Another text? Wraith would have assumed Anita was going to finish her nightly work out and then head over. She flips the device in her palm, opening up their conversation. 

‘and don’t even think about showering yet. I’ll take care of you tonight.’ 

‘bath? I’ll bring the snacks’ 

Wraith’s eyes linger on those words with an air of feeling like she was going to melt into a puddle. ‘I’ll take care of you tonight’ Anita said. And she could hear it in her voice too. Low in Wraith’s ear, her full lips caressing the shell of her ear and her voice dropping to a husk with a squeeze to her waist. Where Anita’s hands liked to linger, moving towards her softer abdomen that she oh so loved on her. 

‘I’d love that. Sorry if my hair is a mess :/' 

Wraith finds herself texting back in a more playful manner. Emoticons weren’t normally her thing. But, after texting between Elliott and Natalie who were both plentiful in emojis, Wraith finds herself trying to express her words better by adding some sort of emotion to them. Not so clinical. 

‘you look sexy when your hairs a mess’ 

And once again Wraith hates that it’s the small things that make her pale cheeks flush red. Huffing an amused noise under her breath and knowing Anita is probably laughing in return as Wraith shuts off her phone. 

Her room is a bit of a mess. She hadn’t had the energy to really take care of it much. So, she works on picking up dirty clothing and putting it into the hamper. Finding water bottles to toss out and taking glasses left around her quarters to go wash later. 

It wasn’t horrible, no, just some things where she just felt like she couldn’t do it. Where if she touched one more thing, she would have exploded. 

It looks presentable in a few minutes. Tasks put off that could have been easily done in two minutes that instead took a week to complete. It would have frustrated Wraith on any other day, but today she feels accomplished for even getting that much done. The small wins, as Anita would have put it. 

It makes Wraith feel proud for even rolling out of bed today. 

She also changes into some clean clothes. Nothing fancy, just simple. A spaghetti strap black camisole that her chest near spilled out of- a favorite sleeping shirt and a favorite of Anita’s to see. And some gray sweatpants that were most definitely stolen from Anita with how Wraith has to roll up the bottoms of them to not trip over them. Her hair is tied into a messy ponytail, some black waves curling around her cheeks and making her blow them out of the way with a gust of air. 

She figured she looked presentable enough. Anita tended to like when Wraith was dressed casually, even when Wraith knew how her eyes wandered whenever she dressed up. 

A reminder of their trip just a few months ago for their anniversary crosses through her mind. A small smile playing on her lips when she remembers how Anita couldn’t take her eyes off her in her tight dress. 

The time they spent in Psamathe would always be treasured. Every moment. And every photo tucked away for safe keeping for Wraith’s eyes only. The ones that were more...appropriate had another spot. Namely in her bedroom, on her desk with a photo of the both of them. With Anita’s arm around Wraith’s waist and leaning her cheek atop her head while Wraith smiled with her eyes closed. 

It was one of her favorites. 

She’s outside.  

Wraith makes her way to the living room just as she hears the telltale ‘beep beep’ of the door being unlocked. Able to see the sliding door open to show Anita. Dressed in her casual clothes with her workout bag and a plastic bag slung over her shoulder. Her curls are a bit wet looking, clearly fresh from a shower. A tight white crew neck t-shirt clings to her frame, tucked into camouflage cargo pants and a black leather jacket with silver studs on the shoulders. 

Wraith feels her clit throb. Feeling a bit too wound up already. 

Before Anita can even get a word out, Wraith pounces her. The door sliding shut behind her and bracing Anita’s back to prevent her from falling. Wraith hears a vague ‘woah’ from her and the thump of the two bags over her shoulder hitting the ground. 

Wraith can’t help herself as her strong legs slide around Anita’s hips to secure herself. Feeling calloused palms grab her ass to hold her up and in place just as Wraith’s hands move. One grabbing the nape of Anita’s neck, the other cupping her cheek and dragging her into a hot and heavy kiss. 

Wraith feels all her worries melt away the second their lips make contact. Tasting Anita’s grape lip balm, the taste of mint on her tongue, inhaling the smoky scent off her clothes and the deep scent of leather. The subtleness of the musk and citrus of her cologne. 

She moans freely into her mouth, delighted when Anita hums back, her hands gripping Wraith’s plump ass tight and appreciative. 

Anita is the first to break the kiss, but that doesn’t even make Wraith pause. Kissing down her jawline, down her neck where her teeth start to nip the sensitive flesh right above the silver chains on her dog tags. 

“Fuck-” Anita hisses through her teeth, only spurring Wraith on to seal her lips on a spot on her neck and beginning to suck. Stopping herself from smiling when she hears Anita's breath hitch. 

There's a tighter grip on her ass as Anita walks them back into Wraith’s bedroom. Wraith’s back turned towards her bed and- 

Move. 

When Anita goes to throw her onto the bed, Wraith moves fast to let herself hit the bed. Rolling out from under her just as Anita goes to pounce and promptly hooking her legs around Anita’s waist. Rolling them over so Wraith comes out on top on her lap, delighting in how Anita blinks a few times to get her bearings before her eyes settle on Wraith victoriously atop her. 

“You little -” Anita starts, but is promptly cut off by how hungry Wraith’s lips press to hers. 

Wraith can taste the frustration melting from Anita, feeling how her hands go from pressing at Wraith’s sides to shove her off potentially. To now moving slowly down the curves of her sides, sliding over her plump ass and encouraging Wraith’s little humping movements against her. 

Their lips part occasionally to mingle their breath. Both their half lidded gazes meeting and Anita’s full lips tugging into a small smile when Wraith sighs at the sight of her. But that’s cut off when Wraith leans in again, meeting her tongue first in a kiss that draws a low, deep moan from Anita’s lips. 

Anita’s hands are all over her as Wraith’s hips slowly grind into her. Anita’s hands slide up along her sides, up into her hair to tug it free from its ponytail. Silky black locks fall free, and Anita parts from the kiss just as Wraith sits up a little. Her calloused fingers sliding up and over Wraith’s collarbones, up her neck and just holding loosely for a brief moment around her throat. 

Wraith’s heart flutters, her lashes fluttering just the same and arching her back. A low moan leaving her lips when Anita croons low and raspy in her throat, “Love when you look a mess for me.” 

Wraith shudders under the attention, worries already starting to get put on the back shelf for Future Wraith to deal with. Content to lean back in for another kiss, taking her time licking into Anita’s mouth. Her hands starting to slide under Anita’s shirt, nails scratching along the way across taut muscle- 

Watch it.  

Wraith doesn’t have time to question it. Not when she’s so intoxicated by Anita’s taste and scent. Fingers wrap in her hair at the root, pulling and forcing Wraith’s back to arch and forcing her to sit up. She moans for the pain of it, her hips rolling helplessly into Anita’s lap with a hiss and a flutter of her lashes. 

A low, breathless chuckle falls from Anita’s lips, and Wraith knows the sight of her is making her just as much of a mess as Wraith is. “Woah, Kitty. Relax. I missed you too, but let's focus on you for now, yeah?” 

“I like my way better.” Wraith speaks, a smirk in her voice that is quickly extinguished when her hair is held tighter and forcing her to bare her throat. Keeping her in place like a scruffed kitten as Anita sits up to kiss the expanse of her neck down to the strap of her tanktop on her shoulder. 

“Betcha do. Always been good at distracting yourself from your feelings, hm? Let’s get you cleaned up, princess.” 

Pent up but willing to follow, Wraith only groans low in her throat. Letting Anita slip out from under her and peeking up at her when Anita looks down at her. Wordlessly, Wraith lifts her arms up like a pouting child, enjoying the way Anita’s eyes roll despite her soft smile and she lifts her up. Allowing Wraith to hook her legs around her and arms around her neck to be carried into her bathroom without much of a fight. 

The bathrooms for their quarters were nice. Some had walk in showers, some had clawfoot tubs. In Wraith’s case, she’d gotten a tub. At first that had been a struggle, but if she wanted a shower she could just go to Anita’s or the gym’s locker rooms. Especially on nights where no one else was awake. 

Small risks were had on those nights. With a hand over Anita’s mouth and the other sinking fingers into her and making the soldier beg. 

Anita sets Wraith atop the sink so she can begin drawing the bath. Going under her sink and finding the self-care items that Anita and Natalie had equally purchased for her. 

Bottles full of expensive hair care items that Anita had gotten for her, siting her expertise on hair care. Things like bubbles and soaps purchased by Natalie, who for some reason knew what scents were too much for Wraith and managed to avoid them miraculously. 

“Let’s get you undressed, baby.” Anita’s voice gets Wraith out of her trance. Feeling the weight settling back on her of the last two weeks. Suddenly tired, worn out. Too tired to take off her own clothes and grateful when she feels Anita gently working her out of them. Her warm touch sliding over her bare flesh and it makes Wraith sigh softly, her shoulders slumping. 

When she finally can refocus on the world, it’s when Anita is gently leading her to the tub. Letting Wraith sink into the warm water, the scent of lavender and vanilla quiet in the room. Anita only leaves briefly to return with a few candles, setting them around and turning off the lights to leave a quiet, low glow. 

Wraith watches her quietly. Watching as Anita begins to strip and sighing to herself at the sight of her working out of her clothes. Her eyes sliding over the muscle freshly wound up from Anita’s work out, the scars on her body telling stories not even Wraith knew all the answers to. 

She was picture perfect- even if Anita didn’t think so some days. No one would think the headstrong soldier could have her shy moments, but Wraith knew the truth. When the clothes came off and her dark eyes looked at Wraith as if waiting for her to comment something other than how handsome she thought she was. 

When Anita comes close, Wraith makes room for Anita to slide in behind her. Sliding her legs on either side of Wraith and sloshing the water a bit. Wraith leans back into her when Anita’s arms slide around her slowly, encouraging her to lean back until Anita can rest her chin atop her head. 

They sit in silence, and Wraith knows that Anita is waiting on her to open up. To work through her feelings and talk about it. 

It’d always been...difficult. Where the words wanted to come out, but Wraith’s throat closed. Where her frustrations became something more than just something as simple as a shitty week of back-to-back frustrations. 

Where her memories cannot separate past from present. 

“I don’t know where to start.” Wraith murmurs finally, feeling Anita’s fingers tracing circles into the softness of her abdomen and soothing her immediately. She tips her head back against Anita, closing her eyes when lips press to her forehead gently. 

“Don’t have to say a word ’till you’re ready, Shorty.” Anita murmurs in return, making Wraith at least crack a small smile at the familiar pet name.  

“And if I’m never ready?” 

Wraith can physically feel the smile Anita pulls on her forehead, another press of a kiss there before she grabs Wraith’s chin. She tips it all the way back, straining Wraith’s neck so she has to look up at her. “I have a good way of making stubborn kittens like you talk.” 

Wraith’s face flushes, her heart pounding in her ears and pulling herself from Anita’s hold of her chin to face forward. Anita’s body rumbles behind her with laughter, her nose nuzzling at the top of Wraith’s head and her arms squeezing her back to her strong chest. 

It’s...easy. The thoughts come easy when it’s Anita. Where the words once clog her throat and anxiety eats at her lungs- she can finally find the words. 

And Wraith spills. Talking of her hard week, feeling a weight lifted the second she mentions just how tired and exhausted she is. That she’s tired of being leader, that she just wants to get taken care of and for things to go right. How all her plans have been falling through. 

All while Anita is attentive to her. Humming and going ‘Mhm’ or nodding her head in understanding. Starting to work on washing Wraith’s hair for her, massaging into her scalp and briefly making Wraith’s woes disintegrate with each loving swirl of her fingers and scratch of her nails. The soft scent of lavender and figs filling the room as Anita tips Wraith’s head back to pour water through her hair and pecking a kiss on her forehead. 

Familiar movements come with the conditioner. Where Anita twirls her hair through each strand as if to encourage her natural wavy pattern. Anita was the type to be very particular about her hair, teaching Wraith the care behind it when she expressed interest in doing her hair for her.  

As Wraith’s words start to dwindle down and tears stop pricking her eyes, Anita starts to wash her body so lovingly. A washcloth with vanilla scented soap working all across her body. Her head being practically cradled back into Anita and Wraith’s back arching so she can let her wash her thoroughly. Arching back into her and sighing when Anita moves the washcloth down her body, down over her abdomen. As if pushing all worries down, down, down, into the water below to be later swirled down the drain. 

Wraith can’t really help herself when her breath hitches as bare fingers skim down over her happy trail, down over her mound and then back up. It’s a purposeful tease, one that makes her sigh shakily when she hears Anita’s fond hum behind her in her ear. A small nip to her pierced ear and Anita’s deep tone crooning, “Be patient. Thought you said bath time was a sacred place?” 

“Starting to regret past me.” Wraith huffs, her head straining back in an arch against Anita’s shoulder when her hand starts to come up. Squeezing one of Wraith’s full breasts and skimming over a pierced nipple in a way that catches her breath. It only quickens when Anita’s hand comes up, loosely wrapping around her exposed throat and a low moan leaving Anita’s lips in a way that makes Wraith’s clit throb . 

“Don’t look so temptin'. Might eat you alive.” 

She could make us forget.  

She better watch her mouth before we shut it for h-  

Imagine her tongue-  

Her hands-  

What she could do to us-  

Watch it.  

Wraith’s eyes open just in time to see a bubbly hand come up and a finger to gently tap to her nose. Bubbles linger, popping and tickling and making her nose scrunch.  

Laughter falls from Anita, only to spike up when Wraith squirms from her, grabbing a handful of bubbles to shove into her face. The water sloshes with Anita’s jerk and the sharp gasp from her that’s intended to sound more dramatic and offended than she is. But when she wipes the bubbles aside to look at Wraith’s smug expression, she narrows her own dark eyes. “Oh, it is war.” 

Laughter ensues when Anita lunges forward with a new handful of bubbles. The water sloshing around them and onto the ground as they both try to smash bubbles into each other. 

There's giggling, yells of ‘no fair’ and ‘brat’ being exchanged until finally Wraith goes to splash her and ends up with both her wrists being snatched and held to Anita’s chest to keep her still. 

They’re both panting. Anita’s curls have bubbles popping in them, her skin wet and glistening with the soapy water. Bubbly water swirls down the drain beneath the tub built into the tiles, the floor wet and an even more dangerous battlefield.  

“Truce?” Wraith speaks, looking at how Anita’s eyes narrow with her smile. It’s one that tells her she’s debating throwing another metaphorical punch in. 

“Truce.” Anita finally decides, jerking Wraith’s trapped wrists forward so she can press a kiss to her nose. 

They finally make it out of the bath, but when Wraith goes for her clothes- she's quickly shooed away from them and told to just go lie on the bed after she dries off. 

“Whatever you say, Boss.” Wraith teasingly quips back, quickly getting her ass pinched and making her yelp with laughter as she heads for the bed. Feeling a bit less exhausted then when they had started. 

Lying on the bed dutifully in the dark, Wraith lies on her stomach with her arms crossed under her head and a pillow tucked under her chest and stomach for comfort. It feels a bit exposing to be lying there naked, the sheets feeling cool against her warm flesh. But, Wraith finds comfort in closing her eyes and easing her body’s tension. Knowing Anita wouldn’t do anything to harm her or surprise her. 

When Anita does enter the bedroom again, Wraith can hear the soft swish of clothing on her body. Only mildly disappointing, Wraith’s almost tempted to crack an eye open and grumble for her to get undressed again. 

But words die in her throat when the bed shifts with Anita’s weight, her strong legs straddling Wraith’s thighs and the pop of a cap heard. 

The scent of some sort of oil fills Wraith’s senses first, hearing Anita rubbing her hands together before they start sliding the oil across Wraith���s shoulders and back. Working the taut muscles there first and making a sigh leave her lips as talented fingers slide up the back of her neck and then back down along her spine. 

Anita is god sent with her motions. Even more so when she leans down towards Wraith’s ear, murmuring with her chest pressed to her back and making Wraith feel each rumble of her low voice. “There you go, kitten. Nice and easy, yeah? Relax for me.” 

Wraith hums low in her throat in reply, a sigh following when Anita sits back up and her fingers work down her back and over her sides. Feeling her shift down her body to work more across Wraith’s body and all her taut muscles. Kisses press down her spine, down towards her lower back and kissing each dimple there before the weight shifts again. 

Hands slide over her ass and Wraith tenses up but soon eases. A low moan leaving her when the massaging touches get rougher. Soon pressing to her thighs and pressing them apart until Anita can move her body between them this time.  

If it were anyone else, Wraith would feel exposed. Too exposed for comfort. But...with Anita? She’s never been more willing to rip herself apart, expose all her bad- all her good that came with it. To bust her ribcage open and hold her beating pulse if it meant seeing Anita’s soft, sweet smile that was always crooked and how her dark brown eyes looked at Wraith like she was the most beautiful thing on this planet. 

Wraith’s breath catches, her fingers curling into the sheets when teeth nip at her hip. Soft, pale skin easy to bruise there and making her sigh again when a tongue dips out to taste the bite. 

“Bleh -” Anita huffs, clearly getting a mouthful of oil as she sits up and the moment breaks momentarily. It makes Wraith laugh, shifting to peek over her shoulder to see the way her girlfriend’s nose scrunches and she’s wiping her mouth off on the bottom of her tanktop. Lifting the fabric towards her mouth and showing off her abs in a way that Wraith can’t help but admire. 

“Not your smartest move, baby.” Wraith quips, seeing how Anita’s eyes shift up to her face and narrow in reply. 

“Hey, don’t condescend me.” Anita huffs back at her, reaching and smacking Wraith’s ass just hard enough to make Wraith jump with a flutter of her lashes. “I’m trynna make you feel good. I don’t need you acting like a brat.” 

“Mhh. My apologies, Ma’am. Won’t happen again. I’ll be good.” Wraith smiles through her words, knowing they sound a bit too sarcastic for Anita’s liking with the look she gets. 

Her laughter is smothered in her arms when Anita swats her ass again in a quiet way of telling her to shut up. 

When the tension dies down again, Anita gets back to work of her massage. Working on Wraith’s lower back and easing her once more, working back down to her ass where her hands slide over the plump frame of it. Nails catch Wraith, scratching down the backs of her thighs and making a whine catch in her throat. Another kiss is pressed on her lower back, and that’s all the warning she gets when hands grab her ass and spread her apart. 

Wraith’s face flushes bright red, burying herself deeper into her arms at how exposed she feels. She knows she’s wet too, feeling the warmth seeping there and shuddering when Anita adjusts her grip to make sure she can spread her pussy apart too with the action. 

Wraith can’t help but tip her hips upwards, arching her back and shuddering when Anita moans low in her throat with a, “Good girl.” It sends Wraith into a spiral as her hips jerk into the air without even being touched. 

It was rare Wraith wasn’t in control. She liked having it over Anita- who she believed needed a break from being in control all the time. And just...Wraith struggled with feeling submissive. But in times like this, it didn’t feel so much as submission as it felt like they were equals. Where Anita’s touches were experimental and quiet, always room for Wraith to disagree or politely tell her otherwise. 

It also helps that Anita’s talented hands just made her into putty. Relaxed for the first time in weeks. Her mind thankfully empty except for the thoughts running rampant about being touched. 

Still exposed, Wraith can feel how her cunt drools with slick. She can hear how Anita moans low, her breath close to her skin before her tongue slides up. Licking Wraith from her clit, all the way up her cunt, up further to lick across her ass and along her hole. 

Wraith feels dizzy from how turned on she is. Whimpers falling from her throat unwillingly when Anita’s tongue focuses on her ass. Swiping over her hole, licking and pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses. The pleasure isn’t new, Wraith has been touched like this before, but it doesn’t change how electrifying it feels. 

“God, ‘Nita-” Wraith breathes out, her lashes fluttering when she lifts her head to breathe. Tipping her head back and moaning outwardly when she hears Anita hum against her, her tongue pressing into her experimentally. 

Anita’s rough fingers slide up Wraith’s thigh, slipping briefly along her pussy and collecting the wetness seeping there before her mouth leaves her. Fingers toying now with her ass, brushing wet knuckles across until Wraith feels like she’s going to snap from how tight she’s wound. 

“’Nita- ” Wraith whines this time, her name like a prayer on her tongue as one finger sinks into her ass. Anita’s mouth doesn’t stop though, moving to kiss across her ass instead and sinking her teeth into a soft cheek. Undoubtedly getting more oil in her mouth, but being more subtle about the mistake by dragging her tongue across Wraith’s hip. 

Wraith is practically humping the bed to brush her clit across the sheets. A second finger is introduced to her hole, and her entire body trembles. 

“That’s a good girl. Gotcha purrin’ like a little kitty, hm?” Anita’s voice is rough, sending tremors through Wraith’s body and a mewl following to make her point even more clear. Anita’s fingers pump inside of her, fucking her at a nice pace and sending another jolt through Wraith’s body with a cry. “What a good kitten you are.” 

It’s an experimental phrase. Not that Anita hasn’t teasingly referred to her as a cat before. But in bed? This was new. A new word that only proves to make Wraith clutch at the sheets, mewling and twisting her body as her lower half fills with fire of desire. 

“A-Anita-” Wraith gets out, her breath stuttering and ragged. A third finger is introduced, and she buries her face into the pillow beneath her to muffle her raw cry. Tears fill her eyes at the pleasure, caught between trying to fuck herself back onto Anita’s skilled fingers, or hump downwards against the bed. 

“Use your words, baby.” Anita’s voice is like silk, her fingers rocking slow and hard into Wraith. Dragging them slowly back and pressing back inside, curling downwards into her and making Wraith feel oh so full. 

“Hhh-” Is all Wraith can get out at first, definitely drooling on herself by now as her eyes go unfocused. But she manages at the very least. “Fuck me- just fuck me already, ‘Nita, G-God you’re so good- ah!” 

Hard to talk when your girlfriend can’t get enough of you, it seems. Because Anita only hums at first, still fucking her fingers into Wraith without a sign of stopping. Her tongue returning to lick around her fingers. 

But finally, blissfully, she departs. A small pat to Wraith’s ass and a murmur to wait there and get on all fours being said. 

Sluggishly, Wraith picks herself back up on shaky arms. Moving so she can sit herself up on all fours, hugging a pillow to her chest and arching her back to put her ass nice and high in the air with spread legs. Even going so far as to slowly sway her hips, living up to that cat persona Anita is so fond of calling her. 

She’s watching.  

Wraith can hear fabrics shifting and the loud zzpppt sound of a harness being tugged tight around Anita’s body. She only knows she’s looking because she can hear the mutter of a swear under her breath. It makes Wraith smile to herself, knowing she had such an effect on her. 

The bed creaks and shifts with Anita's weight. She settles behind Wraith, a hand coming underneath her to brush her whole palm against her cunt until Wraith presses down into it in a hump. 

A chuckle is heard behind her before two fingers brush past her enlarged clit, sneaking down until they can slip into her cunt and curling forward. Wraith doesn’t hide her cry, or her eagerness when she shoves her hips back into Anita’s fingers with a moan. 

Wraith knows Anita won’t finger her long- not out of not caring, no. But because Wraith liked the pain of the stretch. It was something Anita had worried about at first the first few times she was allowed to top. Always asking if Wraith was okay, if she was hurt. But nowadays, Anita knew that the rougher she was, the wetter Wraith got. 

“Mmh, hey, Rey?” Anita’s voice is gentle despite her fingers curling into Wraith. It’s hard to hear her at first, but Wraith catches it, humming in her throat quizzically. “Remember when we had our anniversary?” 

It’s not a question. It’s a set up to something bigger. But it’s hard to really be suspicious when your girlfriend is curling her fingers inside of you juuuuust right and her dumb, stupid, gorgeous smoky voice is doing a number on you already. 

So, you can’t really blame Wraith when she practically whimpers out a, “Y-yeah-” without any hint she’s actually listening or curious to what else Anita has to say. 

Thankfully, Anita doesn’t seem to press. Just humming in reply. “Yeah. Was nice.” In a manner that would normally make Wraith suspicious at first, if she wasn’t feeling Anita’s fingers leaving and hearing the shuffle behind her as she comes closer. 

Questions for later. 

Now Wraith can feel the dildo behind her. Anita’s chosen cock of the night was one she was familiar with by now. She can see it in her mind clear as day. A dark, obsidian base to a dragon-like imagery. Thick and girthy, with ribs and bubbles that stimulated harshly. It wasn’t very long, just about maybe six inches, but it was incredibly thick. Fading to a deep shade of red at the tapered head with gold flecks hinting into the silicone. 

Wraith sighs, practically melting so her front rests on the bed and her ass sticks high in the air, thighs splayed wide and ready. She can’t help but move her hips back across Anita’s cock, slipping her cunt across it and letting her breath catch. 

Anita’s laugh behind her is soft and low, her hands grabbing Wraith’s plump ass and holding her nice and steady. “Nice an’ easy, kitty cat. Look like you’re about to purr. That happy to get fucked?” 

Wraith won’t entertain her with a retort. But she does entertain her with a huff, tipping her head so she can look behind her shoulder out of the corner of her eye. Catching Anita’s look, how her head tilts and her curls remain immaculate, her lopsided smile and the glow of the lamp behind her makes her look heavenly. 

Sunshine incarnate. 

And Wraith, the moon, helplessly attracted to her and aching to be within her orbit. 

She’s beautiful.  

She wants us.  

Look at how hungry she is.  

We could have her-  

If she just let us-  

-uld take her, wipe that grin right off her mouth.  

For a brief moment, Anita’s face crosses with worry. Undoubtedly from the milky white of Wraith’s eyes. But with a small smile sent her way to quietly tell her it’s alright, her worry vanishes back to that cocky look and a squeeze of Wraith’s ass. 

“My Ladies distracting you?” Anita says with that same cocky look, that same lopsided grin and gentleness in her dark eyes that makes Wraith’s heart race from more than just arousal now. 

Yes.  

“No.” 

Wraith’s quick reply is met with a laugh. And Wraith hides her smile and playful lie by turning her head back into her arms. 

It doesn’t take long to get back into it. Where Anita lines herself up and gently presses the head in. She’s always so careful at first, always so gentle with her grip on Wraith’s hips. It could be sickening sometimes how gentle this soldier could treat her sometimes. Like glass. 

Like Wraith was something precious to her. 

Wraith groans, shoving her hips back and moaning when she feels the sharp bite of pain from taking the entire cock in at once. She’s greeted with the hiss from Anita, a sharp slap to her ass and a harsh grip that only serves to make Wraith groan. 

“Hey- you’re not in charge here.” Anita grunts, her voice low and blunt nails digging into the soft flesh of Wraith’s ass. Wraith can’t even pretend she’s sorry, not with her moan and how she rolls her hips back into Anita’s for her to just get on with it. “Keep acting bratty and maybe I’ll just have to tie you up.” 

Now THAT gets Wraith’s attention. A weak mewl leaving her at the idea of Anita having to hold her down by the back of her throat, another on the rope binding her wrists behind her back, just using her however she pleased. Taking what she wanted. 

Now that was a thought. 

“Promises, promises.” Wraith manages to choke out through another moan when Anita pulls her hips back nice and slow. Feeling each bump, each rib stimulating inside of her. Apparently, her retort isn’t desired when she feels a slap hit her ass, making Wraith’s body jerk, only to be yanked back roughly by her hips onto Anita’s cock. 

It’s a repetitive motion, one that Wraith tries to keep up with. Trying to fuck herself back onto Anita’s cock or trying to even push herself up onto her forearms to get a better angle. But Anita lets her have none of that, a hand twisting in Wraith’s hair and pressing her cheek back down to the bed, her other hand gripping her hip and holding her still to fuck into her. 

Wraith is a mess under her, clawing at the sheets and trembling under her. Anita’s voice caresses her ear, thick and low and murmuring, “Yeah? You like being treated like this, baby? Like being mine?” And Wraith is so helpless, unable to argue or come up with snarky in time. Only able to whimper in turn. 

When Anita sits up behind her, Wraith can hear the wet sound of maybe fingers in her own mouth before two fingers brush by her ass again. It’s all the warning she gets before they plunge into her, curling and pressing downwards to make Wraith feel fuller and fuller from both holes. 

It’s so overstimulating. It’s so much- she's so close- 

And then Anita stops. 

And Wraith practically screams in frustration, trying to twist herself but still held down by the hand in her hair and only able to exhale sharply in irritation. Trying to fuck herself back onto Anita’s hips and fingers, but unable to with how she’s scooted forward to press flush into Wraith. 

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Anita’s voice is teasing, dripping with faux sympathy. Her fingers aren’t stilling either, pumping into Wraith and making her feel her own slick drool down to the bed undoubtedly in strings. “Ya wanna cum?” 

“Yes- ” Wraith practically hisses, her nails digging into the sheets and feeling just a second closer to ripping open a rift just so she could get the upper hand.  

“Then be a good kitty for me and make some noise. Meow for me.” 

Wraith’s face turns three shades of red, her heart still pounding in her chest from being on the precipice of cumming. There's a feeling almost like humiliation in her and yet she... 

She kind of liked it. 

“Make me.” Wraith finds herself saying, almost immediately regretting it from the way Anita’s fingers still and pull out of her. The feeling of her strong hands holding her hips and sliding them up and over her waist. 

“Suit yourself.” 

It’s with that that Anita pulls out, and at first Wraith goes to maybe turn herself over, but a hand on her lower back keeps her in place now. Feeling how the head of Anita’s cock slips further up, brushing across her ass and making Wraith’s breath catch. There’s no warning when Anita grabs her hips, sinking her blunt nails in and the head popping into Wraith. 

It almost hurts. Almost. But there’s something about that bite that makes Wraith’s eyes roll into the back of her head with each inch fed into her until Anita’s hips press flush to her ass. 

Oh, what Wraith wouldn’t give just to see what Anita looked like right now. 

Wraith is a mess, squirming and on the same hand trying so hard to hold still. Especially when one of Anita’s hands slides off her hip, reaching under her to capture her clit between her index finger and middle finger’s knuckles to jerk her engorged clit casually. 

Anita knew just how to work her. Just how to drive Wraith to the brink and bring her back down. Until Wraith was squirming back on her cock, choking on a sob over how full she feels and how Anita’s hand slaps lightly across her cunt and makes Wraith’s body jump. Pushing her back further onto Anita’s cock and making a moan choke from her again. 

Anita was going to kill her. And what a beautiful death it would be. 

“You know what I want.” Anita gruffly murmurs by Wraith’s ear. “Gonna make me force it out of you? I can do this all day, baby.” 

That finally seems to do it. A mewl parting from Wraith’s lips, followed by Anita’s murmur of ‘Good girl’ that only makes Wraith do it again for good measure. A shatter of Wraith’s need for control. 

Anita’s fingers hook around her hips again, pounding her hips into Wraith’s ass and fucking her harder now. Each loud slap of skin on skin bringing Wraith closer until she’s stuttering on her next pronounced mewl as she’s cumming. Cumming harder than she think she’s ever done in her life with harsh tremors of her body and sobs of Anita’s name. 

That doesn’t even stop Anita, only making her a bit rougher as she reaches under Wraith to grab at her breasts, thumbing at her pierced nipples. Sob after sob leaves Wraith, squirming as her clit throbs and squirt dribbles down her inner thighs from the intensity of her orgasm. Her eyes roll into the back of her head, helpless but to take whatever Anita gives her. 

And take she does. 

It’s when Anita slows her hips down does Wraith finally begin to catch her breath. She’s drooling for sure on her arms, blinking blearily and making a soft noise in her throat of curiosity at why the pace has slowed. 

“Said you remembered our anniversary, right?” Anita asks in that way that really means it’s not a question, so Wraith doesn’t respond. Not until her hair is pulled and forces her head up with a cry, bowing her back beautifully for Anita. It’s then that she gets why Anita is asking. 

In front of her, on the pillow, is a laptop. One that Wraith didn’t even realize was put there. And on the screen is that video she’d taken. Seeing herself crawl up onto the bed to work Anita into a strap on, her own voice in the video ringing out, “Wasn’t really asking you, Princess.” 

Wraith’s breath catches in real time, the fingers twisted in her hair keeping her nice and still as Anita’s hips start to pound into her. “Keep watching.” Anita murmurs, lips brushing by her ear and sending a shiver through Wraith’s frame. 

She’s made to watch as she guides Anita’s head in the video to her cunt, how she’s covered in Wraith’s lipstick from the night, how she slips her panties past her lips, how Anita looks so adoringly at her. 

Like she is now.  

Lips press to the side of Wraith’s neck, just under her ear and kissing down her neck, down her shoulder. Each thrust sends her body bouncing, jerked right back onto Anita’s cock and hearing just how Anita moans nice and low. The harness must be pressing right against her clit, sending dull vibrations through. 

Wraith’s mouth waters at the idea of being able to lick her raw. 

Anita’s low groan and her hips stuttering capture Wraith’s attention. Feeling her hair released so her hips can be grabbed, her wide hips being held still so Anita can fuck herself into her, humping her ass and once more making Wraith’s eyes roll back. The sounds of her girlfriend cumming making her match as she begins to cum with a cry, equally matched by how Anita slaps her ass and grips the plump cheek with a groan. 

As they both come down from their highs, Wraith can’t support her own weight anymore. Not when Anita slips from her and releases her, making Wraith practically melt onto the bed in a splat. Legs apart, one lightly pulled up, her body shaking and trembling and lying in her own little wet spot with lubricant leaking out of her ass. 

Surprise.  

Click!  

“Anita!” 

The click of a camera following flash and one of the Ladies speaking makes Wraith groan in embarrassment. Hearing Anita chuckle and lightly patting her ass lovingly. “What? Thought you’d like a reminder for later, baby.” 

“Mnnnhph-” Wraith groans in turn, reaching back to swat blindly at Anita who laughs as she slips off the bed. 

From there, Wraith is gently pulled into Anita’s lap- who has set her harness to the side and slid her shorts back on. Gently, Wraith is cradled in her lap, a hand on the back of her head and pressing her face into Anita’s neck where she inhales her scent and the hint of sweat. Anita’s other hand rubs Wraith’s thigh softly, soothingly, giving her a fond and comforting squeeze to her frame. 

A kiss presses to Wraith’s ear, and just the gentle move makes her blush, squeezing her arms around Anita tighter and making a positive noise. 

“How do you feel?” Anita murmurs, pressing a firm kiss to Wraith’s shoulder adoringly. 

“Better.” Wraith confirms in a small voice, her throat aching and her mouth dry. “Little thirsty.” 

“Mmh, I’ll bet.” 

“Anita.” 

Anita laughs at the stern, scolding tone. She murmurs an ‘Alright, alright’ as she gently shifts Wraith off her lap and onto the bed- out of the wet spot on the bed. She’s only gone for a moment before a cold water bottle is given to her, following a sugary pack of gummy prowlers that makes Wraith break out into a beam. 

Easy to please, she’s well aware. But she’s also aware of the way Anita looks at her oh so fondly with a little half smile as Wraith snatches the candy delightedly. 

Once more Anita leaves after double checking Wraith didn’t need anything more physically. When she returns, it’s with an armful of fresh sheets, but at first Wraith doesn’t pay any mind to her being there. 

She’s watching us.  

Peeking up and through her lashes, Wraith tries to hold back a blush at seeing Anita with an armful of new sheets and blankets. The little smile back on her face and the lightest flex of her biceps in her tanktop making Wraith feel how she did the first time she’d ever seen Anita look at her like that. 

Thankfully the silent staring is broken when Anita walks in and shoos Wraith from the bed to take the soiled sheets and change them. From there, she goes and gets a wet washcloth to help clean off Wraith without the need for another bath, also getting her a new pair of panties and one of her big hoodies she took comfort in. 

Anita gestures for Wraith’s arms to go up as she holds the hoodie and Wraith obeys. Only for Anita to pull it down over her head, stopping when she’s at her shoulders while Wraith is blind so she can push her back onto the clean bed. Sending Wraith gasping, only to fall into a giggling fit when Anita’s hands grab her hips to hold her in place. Anita presses kisses up her tummy, pressing a raspberry there while Wraith is helpless and squirming, still caught in the hoodie. 

The torture ends soon when Anita tugs the bottom of the hoodie down to rescue Wraith. Wraith can feel her cheeks flushing as she looks up at Anita, seeing her half-lidded eyes and her fond half smirk down at her. She’s straddling Wraith now, arms on either side of her head and looking all the more charming per minute. 

Wraith can’t stop her racing heartbeat when Anita leans in, fondly pressing their foreheads together. 

“Hey.” Anita softly murmurs. 

“Hey.” Wraith murmurs back just as soft, closing her eyes and turning her head to rub their noses softly together. 

They move back into the bed together. With Wraith tucked into Anita’s arms, her ass pressing back against her and her cold fingers holding onto Anita’s arms around her body. Anita’s chin tucks against the top of Wraith’s head, occasionally moving to press a kiss. 

“How are you feeling, by the way?” Anita starts, resting her cheek against the top of Wraith’s head. When Wraith hums back quizzically, Anita clarifies. “You were upset earlier. Ya know just makin’ sure my baby’s okay. I mean, I know you’re satisfied physically-” 

That earns her a laugh from Wraith and an elbow in the ribs, sending Anita laughing in turn. It’s good she’s got her back to Anita, or she’d see just how much her absentminded ‘my baby’ affected Wraith. 

“I’m better,” Wraith murmurs, pulling Anita’s hand up to her face to kiss her palm tenderly. “Thanks...for coming over, I mean. And just...being with me. I should have told you earlier but I-I was...” 

Wraith trails off, pulling Anita’s hand to cup her cheek and sighing when Anita’s thumb caresses her cheekbone. A quiet and patient understanding as she waits for Wraith to continue. 

“I don’t know- I was stubborn, I guess.” Wraith finishes after a moment. Rolling over to look at Anita and letting her arms drape over her waist. At first not meeting Anita’s gaze, not until fingers gingerly grab her chin, guiding her gaze up to Anita. 

“Hey, I get it. It’s hard asking for help. But you know I’m here for you, okay?” Anita’s voice is gentle, a low rumble and making Wraith’s heart burst into a frenzy again. Especially when Anita leans in, pressing a warm, soft kiss to her forehead. “I love you. For better or for worse.” 

“Your ‘hopeless romantic’ is showing again.” Wraith playfully mumbles, smiling when she feels Anita smile against her forehead in turn. 

Soon they settle back down. Only the soft glow of the fairy lights Wraith has overhead making the room glow. Anita cradles Wraith to her chest, stroking through her hair and down her neck, occasionally drawing or writing mindless things with her fingers. 

One day, Wraith’s mind reminds her. 

One day they could forget the games. Start a life on their own together. 

For better or for worse.  

[nevermindirah]

Dorothy Freeman facts

By facts I of course mean headcanons, because Nile's mom doesn't get a first name in canon (or even confirmation that her last name is Freeman). All we know about her is the picture on Nile's phone lock screen (which is Kiki Layne's real-life mom and brother!) and a few lines that Nile tells Andy about her. I’ve been collecting my Dorothy headcanons for a while now to eventually make a post, and @mprosperossprite​‘s excellent post giving non-Americans context for what it means that Nile is from the South Side of Chicago prompted me to go ahead and share this. Disclaimer that I’m white and I will absolutely make corrections if it’s pointed out that I’ve caused harm with any of this.

So here have some fun facts about the version of Mama Freeman who lives in my head rent-free:

Her family and growing up:

she was born in the mid-'60s and named after Dorothy Dandridge

I can’t decide whether she was born in Chicago or moved there later on (maybe with Nile’s dad?) and when in the waves of the Great Migration her family left the South

she came of age in the "post"-Civil Rights movement and went to college in the mid-80s when a lot of what are now the foundational classics of Black feminism were being written

she was a young adult when Anita Hill risked so much to report that a Supreme Court nominee had sexually harassed her, and as a result she HATES Joe Biden

Marriage and babies:

she met Nile's father — I can’t decide how they met and I have two competing headcanons for his name, either Gideon for the hefty Biblical masculinity vibes (Giddy for short among family, that man loved to laugh) or Carl, which started out as a shitty Carl’s Jr burger chain joke that turns out to be perfect (it means free man!), and @knoepfchen​ used it in the sequel to if you do take a thief where Carl is alive!! — and Dorothy was a little skeptical of his near-religious devotion to the military but he was really hot and really devoted to her and they made it work

she's a little pissed that she was right but it's unbearable if she thinks about it too often

it's going to be a long, long time before she can look back on pictures of Baby Nile stomping around the house in her dad's combat boots (this is a Gina Prince Bythewood headcanon, whyyyyyyyy can I not find a link to where she said this)

she named their second baby Indus, Indy for short (this is nearly as established fanon in Book of Nile circles as how much Booker loves eating pussy, and Indy Freeman as a young adult is portrayed by either Aldis Hodge or John Boyega I don’t make the rules)

Work:

Dorothy did some office jobs but nothing really grabbed her, and she was probably gonna have to move for her husband's career, so she decided on teaching — high school humanities

she’s been active in CTU (one of the strongest teacher’s unions in the US) her whole career and one year she was on the bargaining committee and her babies know damn well never to trust a boss, not even one who says all the right things — if she ever finds out the way Nile said "like Quynh?" when Andy promised to protect her, she will lose her mind with pride

(Nile was 18 and freshly graduated from high school in 2012 when CTU went on strike for the first time in a generation and she brought her mom snacks on the picket line)

one of her very favorite things is getting her students to laugh despite themselves at her "oh my GOD you're so EMBARRASSING" old-people jokes

she's one of those teachers who can get 30+ teenagers to go dead silent with judicious application of body language

she's known to occasionally go easy on grading subjective things like essays when she knows students are having a particularly rough time at home, but the second she gets the feeling they're taking advantage and not trying their best that shit is over and they better mind their Ps & Qs

she's the kind of person who says old-people shit like that

she gives her students assignments like "help 5 neighbors register to vote" and "write a compare/contrast table about the candidates in this local election" and "research 5 different ways you could get grant money to do X" and other practical civic-minded shit

standardized testing is her supervillain origin story, just kidding it’s Rahm Emanuel, why the fuck did Obama trust that asshole

After her husband died:

she would have lost her goddamn mind if it weren't for her church friends after her husband died, people from the church raised money so they could make ends meet while his pension paperwork was taking forever, church friends watched Indy so Nile could go out for the soccer team, etc etc

she sold her and her late husband's house and moved to a 3-bedroom co-op unit when Nile started high school, it's more affordable and it meant she didn't have to worry about household repairs in the same way, she can use a wrench if she needs to but she doesn't have time and it just makes her grief flare up (co-op housing has a long history in Chicago and other US cities (like Washington DC where I live) as a way for Black people to access decent, affordable housing in the face of entrenched discrimination)

the move meant putting a longer commute between her and church, but she didn't even bother looking for a church closer to their new home, she loaded the kids into the car on the weekends, parking is hell in their new neighborhood but it's worth giving up a hard-won parking spot to not have to wait so long for the L on Sunday mornings

Indy lived with her through college and he was gearing up to get his own place when Nile died, Dorothy was planning to move into a one-bedroom in the co-op building because she doesn't need so much space anymore, Indy took a day off from his new job (not so new anymore, her baby's so grown!) to help her sort things to donate when those dress-uniform Marines came to their door

part of her wishes she could've been home more and not had to rely on Nile so much for help with Indy, but he's turned out such a kind young man, and he's a much better cook than his sister is (was, oh God — no wait, is! she’s alive! what do you mean you’ve been alive all this time??)

some of the girls from church are encouraging her to check out this social dancing thing, nobody's pressuring her to date but there's definitely been some ribbing, and with Indy out of the house... maybe? probably not, but maybe

Her feelings and beliefs and likes and dislikes:

she's an absolute badass and also she's a soft human woman with lots of feelings

she's very, very traditional in some ways, and part of her mixed feelings about Nile following in her dad's footsteps is gender stuff, she's proud of her daughter and would never stand in the way of what Nile wants to do with her life, and if Nile came home and told her she's a lesbian she would never reject her, but if Nile came home and told her she's bisexual maybe she can just try focusing on men? “I love you sweetheart and I want you to be happy I just know how hard it is already for us in this world” type shit

she has been on team natural hair basically her entire life and one of the worst fights she and Nile ever had was over Nile wanting to straighten her hair as a pre-teen

Indy takes more after her and Nile takes more after their dad, she's so proud of both of them, but Dorothy's activism was mostly wearing her natural hair to work and daring bosses to give her shit, Indy's out there marching in the streets like her parents had and she WORRIES

she teases Indy for going to so many protests like he's using it as an excuse to meet girls, but she WORRIES

when she turns 60, she gets box braids with streaks of dark purple, subtle enough that it's still work-appropriate but it makes her smile, she may be old now but damnit she’s still pretty!

she loves Grey's Anatomy and Star Trek and she watched Bridgerton all in one day

she has a dirty-old-lady celebrity crush on Chris Hemsworth

if she's ever masturbated thinking about Donna Summer, well, that's nobody's business but her own (do non-Americans know about the queen of disco??)

If you want to read fic featuring Dorothy:

I won't have to leave alone, 1000 words, Nile has a nightmare and decides to go tell her family she's immortal

I See Your Eyes Seek a Distant Shore, 65k, Nile adjusts to immortality and does a lot of soul searching about what it means to "do what we think is right", Booker goes to grad school for trauma studies, the working title of this fic was Booker Reads Edward Said and Gloria Anzaldúa and Goes Down on Nile and the final product has an annotated bibliography in the author's notes if you’re into that kind of thing, a lot of my Dorothy Freeman headcanons were born of my process writing this

Gather round the table, we'll give you a treat, 2279 words, college AU, Nile brings her Jewish boyfriend home for Christmas

a contribution I made to Shitty Old Guard Deaths: (Booker, USA, 2025, cause of death: a mother’s righteous wrath)