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macabr3-barbi3 · 6 months

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Hey! I saw your oneshot requests post on AO3. I hope I'm not I'd love to make a request, hope I'm not too late! Could you please write a oneshot with Alastor catching the reader masturbating and give him a breeding kink? It's cool if you're not into it though and would only prefer to write Alastor catching the reader before having sex, lol. *gives you a massive smooch on the forehead* thank you smm

did I go a little crazy with this? maybe. I had fun though, that's what matters! I struggled a little with the breeding kink part but I hope you still like it, anon! <3

Tags: vaginal sex, possessive sex, masturbation, biting, a bit of scratching (I like Al's claws what can I say)

2.4k words

<3<3<3<3<3

Another shitty day in Hell, you think to yourself, coming home from the shit job you held at the news station. You’d think Katie Killjoy could get her own fucking coffee and fetch her own scripts from the producers but no- she needed you to do it so she could spew shit down your throat when her day wasn’t perfect. Which, you know, it was Hell- every day was shit.

You collapse back onto your bed, limbs tense and head pounding. Katie just never shut the fuck up and her shrill voice sounded like a dentist drill in your head. You’d kill a man to be able to relax- it wouldn’t be the worst thing you had done in Hell. But it had been a long time since you had done anything like that; not since Alastor had disappeared.

Alastor. Even now, thinking his name brings a pulsing heat to your core.

In hindsight, of course, trading your soul to the Radio Demon for your boyfriend’s to be free had been stupid. So, so stupid, and you realized it as soon as the bastard had broken up with you to fuck off to another area of Pentagram City. Leaving you and your soul in the clutches of one of the most dangerous Overlords that Hell had ever seen. Your job was simple at least- you spent time with Alastor in Cannibal Town almost as an assistant for a while, managing his schedule (when he could be bothered to follow it), checking in on other souls he owned (when he cared enough to check on them), and just generally being at his beck and call.

You were perhaps the tiniest bit infatuated with him at the time. You did whatever he asked of you- his tasks and errands, his housework, the organization of his radio studio when he got too into ripping someone apart. It wasn’t long until he was asking you to assist him with the deed, pushing a blade of angelic steel into your hands and guiding you towards a rapidly beating heart.

The way he had said “good girl” that day lived inside your head, would twist wickedly around your thoughts when you were trying to focus on anything.

It did now as well, and despite the fact that you hadn’t seen the demon in seven years- having just up and vanished one day- it still held the same power. Your heart raced, cheeks flushed, and you could feel yourself growing damp between your legs at the thought. You didn’t allow yourself to indulge in the memories often, but today felt like an especially shitty one. You think you could be forgiven thinking inappropriately about your old boss long enough to get a quick orgasm in before passing out for the day.

With a quick glance to the window, just to make sure the curtains were drawn, you slide your fingers under the band of your panties and run your fingers through the slickness that you find, gently circling a finger over your clit and huffing out an exhale at the sensation. Thinking of Alastor never failed to make you a mess, pleasure curling in your brain and your gut. It was a wonder you had managed to work for him so long without trying to make a move but he had always seemed so uninterested in anyone else when they tried. You wouldn’t imagine that you were special enough to change his stance on that, but your imagination wasn’t hurting anyone.

You shift on the bed, raising your hips up far enough to slide your bottoms off and shove them to the side. You freeze when you hear something that sounds like a creaking door, but brush it off as something from a lower floor, bringing your other hand under the covers.

One rubbing lightly at your clit you let your other hand reach further, slipping first one finger and then a second into the wet warmth of your pussy. You whimper and close your eyes, wishing that your fingers were longer, wishing someone else was at the other end of them and causing the stretch.

“Good girl.”Alastor’s voice slithers like a tendril through your mind, and you can’t help the groan that tumbles from your lips in the darkness of the night. “Alastor,” you breathe out, indulging yourself, the sound barely audible. It’s going to be over too quickly but you’re too wound up to care, the thought of the Radio Demon alone threatening to send you hurtling over that edge.

“Yes, darling?”

You yelp at the shock of his voice, not just in your head but echoing in the room. Eyes flying open, impending orgasm fading, you see his eyes glowing in the darkness of a corner, his grin coming into view as he steps into the faint light of your bedside lamp. “A-Alastor. What are you doing here?”

He had been gone for seven years. What were the chances he would show up here? Now?

“Can an Overlord not simply pop into the home of a soul in their possession when they choose?” He steps closer, head cocked to one side as he looks at you, and you realize that your hands are still fucking touching yourself and you rip them out from under the blanket. “I must say, this is quite the welcome home.”

“I- I didn’t-” He crouches at the end of the bed and your brain stops working for a moment. “I obviously wasn’t expecting you-”

“Hmm, that doesn’t sound quite like the truth! You said my name, did you not?” When you falter his grin widens, reaching a hand out and snatching the blanket away, exposing your bare skin to the room. “My my, what do we have here?”

“Oh god- Alastor, I’m so sorry,” you say, and try to scramble up the bed away from him before he wraps a hand around your ankle and yanks you back down. Your heart is pounding, threatening to beat straight out of your chest with the look that he’s giving you.

He gives a hum of acknowledgment. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, darling,” he murmurs, trailing his fingers up your leg to settle on your thigh. “Except, perhaps, starting without me. Do tell, did you miss me terribly while I was gone?”

You open your mouth to speak and all that can escape is a choked out moan when he slicks his fingers through the wetness he finds between your thighs. “That’s not quite an answer but I suppose it can be forgiven.” Miraculously blunt, he presses a digit into you, followed quickly by another as he shifts so he’s crouched above you, face a mere breath away from yours.

“A- Alastor, fuck,” you manage to gasp out. “Where have you been?” It should be the farthest thing from your mind when he’s got those dexterous fingers inside you, stretching and preparing you for something more if the bulge in his trousers is anything to go by.

Alastor shrugs, “oh you know, just here and there. Doing a bit of this and that.” Eyes lidded he takes in your form beneath him. “Nothing quite so interesting as what I’ve stumbled onto here.” His free hand fumbles with his belt buckle, the clinking of metal drawing your eyes to his exposed erection in his fist. “Won’t you show me how you’ve missed me?”

In answer you lift a leg to wrap around his waist, delighting in his dark chuckle and throwing your head back with a groan when he growls “good girl” against your throat.

He lines himself up with your heat and pushes in slowly, giving you time to adjust; once he’s reached the hilt he braces his hands on your headboard and pulls back, slamming back forward with a vigor you’ve only ever seen from him in his studio. You cling to his back, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt in a desperate bid to get closer.

Alastor leans down far enough to lick into your mouth, sharp teeth nipping at the sensitive skin of your lips. You bite back in retaliation, perhaps a bit too hard in your eagerness and confusion at the situation- his lip splits and you taste the metallic tang. He pulls back for a moment, manic grin on his face in spite of the bead of blood welling on his mouth. He releases the headboard and shifts, one hand twisting up into your hair and dragging your head up to meet his. The other slides between your bodies, thumb grinding into your clit and the rest of his claws gripping your hips where he could reach them.

You had already been so close to orgasm by the time he turned up- the pressure on your clit and the feeling of him inside you, his hands gripping at your body and head while he kissed you and railed himself inside you. You tear your mouth away from his to gasp his name, winding a hand up into his locks as well and striking against something hard.

Your body is shaking with the attempt to hold back, trailing your fingers to the base of his antlers and giving a soft squeeze.

He groans into your mouth, a broken sound. “Do you mean to make me spend myself already, darling?” He drops your head back onto the pillows, licks down the column of your throat while pulling your other leg up around his hip to press closer to you, deeper. “We’ve hardly begun! I thought you missed me- you’d wish it over so quickly?”

“God, Alastor,” you whimper, and his thumb increases its speed, pressing you into the mattress and digging his fingers into your skin. The release is so close, your legs tensed around the demon’s middle, fingers shaking where they grasp at him. “Fuck-”

“I’d prefer to take my time with you, but I suppose there’s nothing to be done for it if you’ve yearned for me so.” He redoubles his efforts, pounding into your tight heat while you moan and quake around him. A particularly hard thrust has him glancing off that sweet spot inside of you, and combined with his efforts on your clit you’re breaking, everything inside of you clenching and releasing in a rhythm that has him snarling into the skin of your neck.

“I can feel how much you missed me,” he hisses in your ear. “So responsive and greedy in how your body pulls me in- wishes for me to release myself within the grip of your body, to fill you with me.” Another hard thrust and you whine into his hair, grip still tight on his antlers. “Is that what you wish? To be filled? Marked as mine not just in soul but body?”

Your voice trembles out of you, “god, Alastor, yes.”

“There will be no part of you that I have not touched,” he growls, and post orgasm you gasp at the sensation of tightening around him involuntarily. “All of you will be mine- mine-”

Alastor reaches orgasm with a broken cry, clutching your body to his as tightly as he can while spilling inside of you, tensing walls seeming to be trying to pull him deeper despite being buried to the hilt already. He bites you in the moment, a push of teeth into the skin of your shoulder just under your shirt, sucking and running his tongue over the mark as he pulls back.

He leans back far enough for you to see his face again, crimson eyes lidded and smile dangerous. There’s blood on his lips, from where you had bit his and from sinking his fangs into you as he went over the precipice of pleasure. Finally he releases his grip on you.

You collapse back into the pillows, sated and exhausted, while Alastor stands from the bed and situates himself, dragging his thumb across the bite you had left on his lip and smearing the blood across the pad of the digit. He sucks it into his mouth with a crooked smirk. “Well, this was quite the enjoyable detour, darling!”

“Detour?” You sit up against the pillows again. “You’re not staying?”

“I’m afraid not- but don’t worry your pretty little head about it! Neither are you!” He snaps his fingers and your bottoms are back on your body, Alastor holding a hand out to you and hoisting you up from the mattress. He takes a moment to pat your head, smoothing down the stray hairs that had escaped your ponytail from your combined efforts before he bangs his cane on the ground.

“I am?” You look around your apartment. “But- I have a job? And my apartment, who will water my plants?”

“We’ll bring your plants with us! Do you truly care about such trivial matters when you’ll be with me?” A claw tipped finger under the chin, he makes you look up at him. “That’s what you’ve wanted all this time, yes? So help me with this little project I’m working on.”

The floor opens below you, Alastor throwing an arm around your shoulders as you shift into the shadows and reemerge in some kind of lobby.

“What the f-”

“Salutations, everyone! This is one of my associates- I’m happy to offer her services! Please feel free to use her as you see fit, Charlie- she’s quite eager to please.”

“Oh my gosh, HI!” The Princess of Hell steps forward- you recognize her from her interview at the news station a week ago, Katie hadn’t stopped bitching for hours after that shitshow. She violently shakes your hand and arm before the shorter woman, her little one-eyed girlfriend, forcibly pulls her away from you. “I have SOOOOO many ideas for what you can help out with- do you have any experience with cooking? How about cleaning? Maybe Niffty could use some help-” Charlie reaches back and grabs your arm, dragging you away from Alastor who gives you a little wave before slinking back into the shadows.

You spot Husk behind the counter of a bar, Angel Dust of all people draped across it with his head dropped into his arms. The cat lifts an eyebrow at you, another one of Alastor’s souls apparently roped into helping with this ‘project,’ and raises his glass in acknowledgment. A healthy amount of fear and anticipation fills you- you would be working with Alastor again, which would be a nice change of pace from the news station. But when Katie found out her little assistant was going to working with the young woman who made a mockery of her live on television she was going to be pissed.

#hazbin hotel #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #requests <3 #my stuff <3

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anothermansjeans · 6 months

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Kaleidoscope

aaron hotchner x f!reader

a/n: thank you to those who voted on the poll! i'll probably put up another one either tomorrow or the following day <3 inspiration from kaleidoscope by chappell roan !!

summary: to y/n, love is a kaleidoscope. as beautiful as it is, it's confusing and complicating, and it hurts so much.

warnings: not proof read </3 she's angsty (w/ a happy ending) mentions of guns, mentions of death (very little don't worry), mentions of throwing up, violence, hotch is a bit of a dick but he has redemption...?

word count: 3k

Love is a beautiful thing. It can bring light into your life. It's the brightest of colors, the most elegant of shapes. To put it simply, love is like a kaleidoscope.

Love is also a complicated thing. How it works– you'll never truly know. There’s change, but it also stays the same. It’s never confined to a shape alone. Again, in simple terms, love is like a kaleidoscope.

For Y/N, that was the easiest way to put it. When in love, it seemed as though her entire world shifted. It was a confusing and beautiful mess. The problem with this tilted and symmetrical mirror view though, was integrated in the blind spots. In Y/N’s case, that meant her judgment– one of the most integral aspects of her job as an FBI profiler.

She wasn't sure when she switched to her kaleidoscope view on life, but she knew it had to be around the time Hotch offered himself up as bait to the current unsub they were trying to catch. She was worried– she had a right to be. Her and Aaron had been together for a little over a year now– you could say they were in it for the long haul– and she didn't want to lose her love, her life, her future. She was on edge for the rest of the case, but the worst was the moment it was confirmed the unsub had Hotch.

The team was ordered to sit in the car. Stay in the car until they heard either the code word from Hotch or a confession from the unsub. Y/N knew to take orders seriously– she was almost as stern as Aaron at times when it came to protocol during undercover ops. The problem came when they could clearly hear things start to get rough and not only were they still missing a confession, but Hotch had yet to say anything. She was terrified. He didn't have his gun– the entire team knew he would've been searched the moment he walked in the high-end club the victims frequented– and the thought of him not being able to defend himself sent chills down Y/N’s body.

Again, she can't remember the exact moment it happened, but one minute she was in the passenger seat staring intently at the door to the club while listening in, and the next she sent a bullet through the unsub’s head.

She fucked up.

She knew she fucked up the moment Aaron made eye contact with her and behind the lividness, she barely found the love that resided. She wanted to explain herself. She wanted to tell him that the reason why she went in guns blazing was because he was going to get himself killed. She couldn't live without him. She didn't want to.

Unfortunately, that time never came. The moment they found themselves alone in the aftermath happened to be when the paramedic left Hotch after a quick check-up.

“You're lucky.”

His rough voice caused Y/N’s body that had been previously leaned against the ambulance to shift towards Hotch. “Excuse me?”

“You're lucky. If he wasn't the unsub and if he hadn't been assaulting me, you'd end up fired. Possibly arrested.”

“Aaron, you have to know–”

“You crossed a line.” His voice was raised, “when we got into this relationship we had a conversation. Keep it out of the field and away from the team until it is necessary for them to know.”

She scoffed at his words, “you're worried about the team finding out? We just had our one year anniversary two months ago. I live with you and Jack for God’s sake, Aaron. Your life is one of the most important to me– I would do it again if I had to.”

“You crossed a line,” he repeated, exasperation on his face. He was acting as if she wasn't understanding a word he said. “How the Hell am I supposed to trust you?”

Y/N’s eyebrows raised, “oh my fucking God.” She shook her head and turned her back to him, placing her hands on her head as she heard the low mumble she definitely wasn't supposed to hear.

“We were better when we were barely friends.”

What the actual fuck.

Tears began to burn in her eyes as she spun around and saw the look on Aaron’s face. He looked like a deer caught in headlights. She opened and closed her mouth twice before words spew out with a sob. “Well if that's what you want, agent Hotchner.”

She could barely look at him again, so she quickly walked away. She didn't speak to anyone. She sat alone on the jet ride back to Quantico and as soon as they hit the tarmac, she booked a hotel.

When the two mandatory days the team gets off ends, Y/N immediately calls out sick. The anxiety of having to see, hear, or even being in the same building as Hotch made her physically sick, and she was in no shape to be driving down to the office. She feels like a coward– she has this idea that a “strong woman” wouldn't just run away to a hotel when shit hits the fan. She thinks they'd stay and fight, or at least grab their stuff before leaving, but when she was in the bathroom, hunched over the toilet as the feelings from the last few days trek through her body, she realizes that she is a strong woman. She walked away from him. Albeit, she let him decide where their relationship stood after his snide comment, she was still the one to take herself away from the situation.

What he said hurt her. She knows she would follow his lead with whatever is decided in regards to their relationship. Even though it felt as if he made that decision right then and there. Even after the hurt that he caused her heart, body, and soul with his words, she always seemed to go back to her kaleidoscope view. Things seem to be changing… but they always stay the same.

She took another two days to herself. The second day in her hotel room was spent trying to gain the energy back she initially lost while her body found a temporary home on the bathroom floor, and the third was spent using her key to grab a few of her clothes from the home she shared with the Hotchner boys while Aaron was at the BAU and Jack was at school.

Jack. God, she didn't even want to think about how he may have been feeling. That boy felt like her own in every way that counted. She hopes Aaron broke it to him gently… whatever “it” is.

When she did come back to work, she was bombarded by multiple questions from the team regarding her whereabouts. “I’m fine, I’m fine. I must've gotten something during the last case.”

She spoke that lie with her full chest. She had to, especially in a room full of profilers.

When the interrogation was over, she was barely able to sit down before hearing the voice she had been dreading for almost a week. “Y/L/N.”

Hesitantly, she turned her head up to see Hotch at his office door. The nod of his head requested her to go in there and talk to him, and she immediately felt a turning in her stomach.

She counted as she walked up. Normally, she would be up there in less than thirty seconds. This time, she took a minute and forty two seconds.

“Yes?”

The look on his face looked pained with a mix of anger. “Why weren't you here? What if we had a case?”

“I was sick.” Her voice was soft. She really wasn't in the mood to fight.

“This is why we shouldn't have started any–” he cut himself off, a look of regret immediately flooding his face. “I meant that our relationship shouldn't be getting in the way of work. The team–”

“Aaron, I was really sick.” She was tired of his whole “the team” bullshit. Oh fucking well if they knew. “You know,” she continued as she stared at him, “throwing up in a hotel bathroom and all.” On instinct, his eyes not-so subtly panned down to her stomach, and a ball of fury must have risen up from the depths of Hell and found itself in her because maybe she was ready to fight. “Do not flatter yourself, Aaron.”

Her eyes were wild, and his paled expression knew he was about to have his ass handed to him. “I have no idea who you think you are. Yes, you are my boss, but you are– or were– my partner. Equals. You're allowed to get pissed with me, you're allowed to reprimand me as your subordinate, but you are not allowed to talk to me as if I foiled your little plan on keeping our relationship a dirty little secret to the team.” Taking a breath, she felt the tears she thought she had left back at the hotel make an appearance. “I understand wanting to keep things professional, but you lost that when you brought up our personal relationship in order to make me feel like shit in the field.

“I was terrified for you. Terrified! I never want to imagine losing you– Jack losing another parent, but that's all that went through my mind, and the fact that you're more worried about my professionalism, and me making the team realize we're together is extremely telling.” Feeling a sob making its way through her body, she spoke her next words with as much grace and dignity as she could muster. “I tormented myself these past few days thinking I was a coward running away from this fight, but I’m not. I’m letting you decide. Go ahead, be the coward, and I’ll find a way to understand. Maybe one day we’ll go back to barely being friends.”

She could barely make it out of his office before she completely broke down, and ran to the bathroom out of sight from everyone. However hard she tried though, the entire bullpen was able to see and hear her, and eyes immediately went to Hotch.

“What the Hell happened?” Morgan looked frazzled. No one has ever seen Y/N like this.

“Hotch, what’s going on?”

“Is Y/N okay?”

“Should one of us go to her?”

“Aaron.”

The last voice he heard was the one to pull him away from staring at where Y/N walked away to. Looking over, Rossi had a solemn expression and gestured to Hotch to follow him in his office.

“What's happening with you two?”

The question was a simple one really. Before the last case, Aaron would say that he and Y/N are happily in love. They found solace in one another, Jack loves her, he wants to marry her. He still does, that hasn't changed, but the moment he saw Y/N rush into the club putting everything at risk for him… it scared him. He knew he would have done the same thing, but seeing the way Y/N could so easily risk her job, her life, just to save him? He never wanted that to have to happen. So maybe the question was simple, but his true answer would be loaded.

“We’re together,” he opted out of explanation. He knew Rossi would understand.

“Yes, and?”

With furrowed eyebrows, Hotch tilted his head. Rossi had this look on his face as if it wasn't a shock that they were together. “and I screwed up.”

“How,” the older man was getting impatient.

Sighing, Aaron closed his eyes. “I said things. I made her feel bad and prioritized keeping us a secret and being professional.”

“You must not think we’re good profilers."

Aaron knew what he meant by that. The smirk on Rossi’s face said that he didn't even believe what he was saying. Deep down, he did entertain the idea that the team already knew about them, and the more he thought about that, the less and less his anger towards Y/N was originally rooted in spilling that secret.

When he hadn't said anything for a few moments, Rossi spoke again. “So what was the real issue?”

Shaking his head, Hotch scoffs. “She is so selfless at times it scares me.” Rossi’s silence prompted him to continue. “She risked so much going in that club and killing that unsub, but all she cared about was me. She told me she couldn't imagine Jack losing another parent and I just– it reminds me of Haley.”

A look of understanding washes over Rossi’s face as Hotch continues.

“This job kills, Dave. The only way I know how to compartmentalize when it comes to it is to stay professional and try not to think about the love of my life also there doing what I do and potentially getting herself killed. I don't think me or Jack could go through losing someone else.”

“Tell her that.” Rossi’s voice is stern. “Don't push away everything you two have built– which I’m assuming took about a year to build?”

“A couple months over.”

“And I’m assuming you love together seeing that none of us are ever invited over to your places,” the smirk on his face caused a light blush to appear on Aaron’s face. They really never were that subtle. “But Aaron, I think you're too old for me to say this but love is a crazy thing. It’s the nicest but also the most confusing thing. She will understand how you're feeling. It seems to me she already knows that feeling.”

Feeling a thousand times better but a million times worse after thinking about Y/N currently breaking down, Aaron makes a move towards the door to go find her, but is stopped when JJ gives both him and Rossi a weak smile.

“We got a case.”

It’s five days later and the case is still ongoing. Y/N’s been distant– rightfully so– and Hotch has been trying to find every moment possible to talk to her, but it’s dejectedly decided that won't be happening until afterwards. A break in the case had finally happened when they had come to the realization that the unsub had to be an officer on the case, and unfortunately that officer happened to be the one Y/N was currently riding with to a crime scene.

The team was at the precinct when Hotch’s phone rang, an incoming call from Y/N, and the dreadful sense of deja vu set in when he heard the voices on the other end.

“Where are you taking me?” Y/N asked. A slight panic could be detected in her voice.

“I told you… the next crime scene.”

“You'll never get away with it.”

The click of a gun could be heard and hot tears began to stream down Aaron’s face. “Try me, Sweetheart.”

“Garcia, we need that location,” Morgan could be heard behind him, but he was hyper focused on his phone. Mumbles and grunts were the only things heard on the speaker of Hotch’s phone followed by the sound of car doors closing. “Highland Bakery! Garcia says it's been abandoned for thirty years.”

Hotch was the first one out the door. It wasn't happening. Y/N would be safe. He refused anything otherwise.

When they reached the building Hotch had to remind himself over and over again to stay rational. He had to stay level headed and keep you safe, which is what he did. The moment the tact team went in there, Y/N was found half asleep, arms chained above her head, duct tape over her mouth, and cut marks along her legs. She was hurt, but she was safe. Hotch didn't even care about the unsub at that point, knowing the rest of the team was more than qualified to apprehend him. His main priority was getting Y/N to the paramedics as soon as possible.

Hours later sitting in a tiny hospital chair, Aaron held onto her hand for dear life. Her hand squeezed his, causing him to become vigilant, and when she opened her eyes, he immediately started to cry and brush her hair back. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Her voice was rough, and she sat up the tiniest bit before slightly moving her hand out of his.

His heart dropped once she did that, and the words began to flow out of his mouth. “I love you so much, please tell me you know that.” He waited a beat as she gently nodded, which he took as permission to continue. “I’m an ass. I said things that make me hate myself because you deserve so much more than that. I was scared. I'm always scared when it comes to you and this job, but something just snapped at that moment and I realized how much we risk for each other. You say you don't want to imagine losing me, well I can't imagine losing you. I am so in love with you and so please, I promise to not be an ass about it but I also need you to promise to be safe.”

They were both crying at that point. “I’m still upset about what you said.”

He nodded his head quickly, “which is expected and valid.”

“And you need to get over the team knowing.”

“Already done.”

She lifted an eyebrow and gave a slow nod. “And I need you to know that I love you too.” He laughed and pressed their lips together, only breaking away to catch their breaths. “Next time you offer yourself up as bait to an unsub,” she began, her voice just barely above a whisper, “please use the code word so that I don't have to hear you getting hurt.”

With their foreheads touching, he brushed their noses against each other. “How about one just for us? So we both know when to walk away.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Any word you want.”

Y/N took a moment before a small smile made its way on her face. “How about… kaleidoscope?”

“Kaleidoscope?”

“Yeah. It reminds me of you. Of love.”

Aaron smiles with her and slightly leans back in to fit their lips together. Love is a beauteous mess with every emotion reflecting off of those you love. Love is a kaleidoscope.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY!!!

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streetlightyeri · 1 month

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the misspoken chapter ; scott miller

chapter I of the 28 series

“you took a train to the south side of boston, you showed me where your old man stayed.”

w.c: around 7000

warnings: misogyny, extended writing of being trapped in an elevator, mention of pregnancy in medical setting, not well proofread.

Aspen rested her head on Scott’s shoulder as the Red Line railcar thundered back up across the Charles River. His arms were folded across his chest for the beginning of the ride, but his sleepy girlfriend had wedged her arms through his, intertwining her fingers into the hand closest to her. He busied his other hand with grabbing the sliding tupperware of leftovers her parents weighed them down with. It was a short train trip; Scott wasn’t sure how she was able to fall asleep and get so comfortable so fast. It must’ve been her plan from the moment he saw her heavy blinks after dessert.

When they finally got to their stop, he flexed his hand she was holding before shaking it, the movement making her grumble and lift her head. He pressed a chaste kiss to her hair before standing, her arms still wrapped around his. “This is our stop.”

She stood and let him guide her back to the street where the cool air started to wake her up. He let go of her hand to reposition himself on the outside; he flexed his hand in the absence of hers, but her warmth found him again quickly, without him having to ask.

They finally made it back to their shared apartment, their soon-to-be alma mater shining in the distance.

The two met when she overheard him bitching at an undergrad she was just helping about how he messed up a line of code and didn’t deserve the second chance to correct his homework for something as simple as a parenthesis. When the student asked what he could do to learn from his mistake, Scott looked through stacks of paper and pulled out a piece with lines of letters and numbers printed on it. “Find whoever this is, and hope they have pity on you to teach you.”

Aspen scoffed from behind her computer screen, recognizing the paper. She never understood why they had to print out coding homework, but Dr Muher was weird. Scott’s eyes narrowed in her direction; the other two students using Dr Muher’s TA’s Study Hour quickly gathered their things and bolted out the door.

“I’m sorry, is another student’s struggle funny to you?”

Aspen stopped typing and shut her laptop as though she had all the time in the world. She interlocked her fingers and rested her chin on them. “No, just that you’re using my work as an example and you don’t even know what I look like.”

Scott looked between the paper and the girl and before letting out his own scoff. “Yeah, I will not believe this is your work.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Why not? Please enlighten me.”

“This is too advanced to be a junior’s work.”

“This is a junior level class, is it not?”

“Yes, but-”

“The name on the paper is Aspen Lee, is it not?”

The TA’s hand tightened around the paper in anger at being defied.

She stood, palms resting on the table. “Why don’t you say what you’re thinking? That it can’t be me because I’m a girl. You’re the TA, why is it my job to teach my peers? I know the army doesn’t pay you shit, but that isn’t my fault. You don’t see my name on a fucking building here, and I’m not making it someone else’s problem.”

She zipped her backpack and wrapped her laptop in her arms. Just before she was out of the door she turned back, hand on the doorknob, “And by the way, his work is missing a bracket, not a parenthesis.”

A few weeks later, after very fiery glances being thrown between the two, Dr Muher called the two to her office hours. She sat with perfect posture as she looked across to the two biggest headaches of her entire teaching career, both with their arms crossed and scowls set deep in their faces. “I will not have my TA and my highest performing pupil glaring each other down every second of my class! I do not care what animosity you have for each other, but your rivalry is causing a rift to form in my classroom. You will both give apologies in front of the class for the way you two have behaved.”

Scott went to speak, but the stone coldness of Aspen’s voice lowered the temperature in the room, “No.”

Dr Muher pulled her head back in a mix of surprise and disbelief. “I’m sorry Ms Lee, but did you just say ‘no’?”

“I’m not apologizing when this is his fault.” She jutted her thumb in his direction.

He let out a groan, “What are you, five?”

Aspen rolled her eyes and swallowed hard, standing from her chair and throwing her bag over her shoulder. The professor held her hand up to Scott, warning him to stop, before turning her gaze back to Aspen, freezing her in place. “Ms Lee, I will not tolerate the environment you two have created in my classroom, you must understand this.”

Aspen’s voice was throaty, years of anger seeping into her words. “Why is it me who always has to ‘understand’? And speaking of ‘understanding,’ I thought you of all people would! You are the only woman on this goddamn computer science faculty, you know what it’s like having to prove yourself, downplay yourself, humble yourself, just to make the very essence of you palpable for the men in this field. You’re trying to tell me my work was good enough to rub in another student’s face until he saw that it was me who did it? And you expect me to just lay there and take it? I will not apologize to my peers for something that is not my fault, especially when I have yet to hear an apology from him! And if proving the point that the woman always gets the worse end of the deal requires me failing this class, that is something I am willing to do.”

Seven days later, Scott had not apologized and neither had Aspen. She was missing from all three following lectures. Just seeing her name as he transcribed attendance from everyone’s clicker made him grip his pencil to near breaking. After that third lecture, Scott was sitting at his desk in Dr Muher’s office, grading freshman coding assignments. He nearly threw his laptop after the 4th student in a row couldn’t make a circle turn 360 degrees. When Aspen walked in, he pressed the 0 key on his keyboard so hard that the student’s grade input as 000000000/10 and tanked their grade to a negative seven.

Her backpack hung off one shoulder, and she had a single piece of pink paper in her hand. She didn’t acknowledge Scott as she handed the paper over to the professor.

Dr Muher pulled her glasses off her head and perched them on her nose, pretending as if she needed to read what the paper said to know that the Pepto Bismol pink paper was a drop slip. She dropped the paper on her desk with a sigh, “Ms Lee, you are aware that dropping my class this close to the end of the year will impact your financial aid and your transcript?”

“This class isn’t even for my major, I took it as a free elective.”

The professor blinked, rubbing her eyes with her thumb and forefinger, “Remind me again why you are taking junior level C++ and are a . . . what major?”

“I’m here for coastal engineering. My programs are in MATLAB and Python. I just needed the A from this class. I’ll get it elsewhere. So, can you sign the slip?”

Dr Muher sighed again and sprawled her signature onto the slip. When the door shut behind Aspen, she turned to Scott, pointing in the direction Aspen disappeared to with the end of her glasses. “Fix this.”

The first flurries of winter were falling around Aspen as she made her way across campus and into the student union. The snow was a month early; it was only the beginning of November. It was early morning, the first class section still multiple hours away. She paid for a coffee and redirected herself to the elevators to go to the study rooms on the top floor.

An irritatingly tall man in a military uniform walked up next to her, freshly showered but still flushed from a workout. “May we talk?”

Aspen gave him a side glance, refusing to turn to him and have to look up, continuing to walk down the breezeway. “No.”

That made him falter. Scott pursed his lips and took a deep breath, summoning all of the patience he never knew he possessed. He took two steps to catch up with her, shoving his hand in the door of the elevator she had already made it to. His teeth were grit as he spoke, “Please, may we talk?”

“Why, Dr Muher threatened to give you a bad review to your Lieutenant?” She made eye contact with him through the mirrors that surrounded them as the elevator slowly ascended.

“You have to be such a dick all the time?”

Aspen finally looked at him, eyebrows lifted and eyes widened as if to say “oh, I’m the dick?” but couldn’t finish her sentence, the jolting of the elevator before it stopped prevented her from finishing. The fluorescent light above them flickered; the two turned their heads up towards it. “You have got to be fucking joking.”

She was nearest to the buttons, the two having left enough room for a squadron of kindergarteners to stand between them. Aspen pressed the open door button, hoping the stop was a fluke and the pair just hadn’t realized they were already at the 3rd floor.

The door did not open.

“Shocking.”

Aspen swung her head to glare at him. “And if we pressed the emergency call button and hadn’t pressed that, what would we have done if that was the fix?”

Scott narrowed his eyes back at her, shooing her away from the buttons. She tried to resist but his arm pushing her backwards against her shoulders was too strong and she stumbled to the corner he just vacated. His finger hovered against the emergency call button. “No smart comment about how I might tell whoever answers that there’s only one person who needs help?”

“What would they do when they came? Pry open the doors to get you out then snap them back shut and cut the cable line to let me fall to my death?” Aspen swiped open her phone with her free hand but only an SOS signal shined back at her.

Scott mumbled out a Jesus Christ at the morbid quip before pressing the button. The two sat in tense silence for a few seconds before a voice cracked through an unseen speaker. “University Police Department, what’s your emergency?”

“This is Staff Sergeant Scott Miller, a civilian and I-” Scott saw Aspen mouth civilian to herself and quietly snort out a laugh, “are in an unmoving elevator in the student union breezeway.”

Aspen rested her head against the wall with her eyes closed while he continued the call. The mirrors reflecting off each other creating infinite Scotts was too much for her to handle.

“Please prepare to be there for up to multiple hours, as we need to ensure there is nothing wrong with the wiring due to the weather. It is pertinent that you do not open the doors from the inside; the elevator may resume working on its own and can be deadly if one of you is caught between a floor and the elevator.”

The voice clicked off just before it could hear the two of them say, “Hours?”

Then the light went out.

It took only a half hour for Aspen to suck her coffee dry and begin to lose body heat. The breezeway elevator shafts were connected to the outside, meaning whatever temperature was outside translated to the inside. The box was slowly becoming an ice locker. Scott was still warm, fully dressed in his three uniform layers that kept in his body heat from his post-workout shower. Aspen looked through her bag multiple times, hoping to find an extra scarf or gloves but was out of luck each time. She breathed into her hands and rubbed them together before putting her hands in her armpits. She kept her head down to blow warm air onto herself.

A camouflage jacket hit her body before falling to the floor. She looked at Scott, who was sitting on the opposite corner of the elevator, feet planted and knees up. She lifted a brow in question.

“Put it on so you don’t die of hypothermia. If I get saved and you’re dead, the military police are going to have my ass.”

Aspen was still shivering under Scott’s military jacket. The metal of the elevator was absorbing more of the cold air from outside and turning the cube into a certified meat locker. She pulled out her textbooks and stacked them on the floor so the two of them could avoid putting their cores near the cold metal. She didn’t want to admit that it was Scott’s idea, but he had little to offer for them to sit on aside from cold, sweaty clothes in his duffle bag.

She curled into his jacket, trying to seal in any warmth left from him. Her knees were pulled to her chest and she dipped her head to meet them so her hot breath warmed up her skin through her pants.

After a few minutes, Scott noticed a decrease in her shuddering breathing movements. He nudged her side. “Are you still alive, Lee?”

She let out a grumble. “Yes, Miller. I think I am alive because if I was in hell, it wouldn’t be this cold.”

He snorted, “Going to hell, eh?”

She peaked out of her cocoon, only one eye visible to him. “If I die and you’re there, then yeah, I’m in hell.”

“What were you going to say?” Aspen asked, her voice muffled.

“What?”

“What you were chasing me to say.”

Scott sat in the silence that followed for a while. “I wanted to apologize.”

She pulled her head out the cocoon she made, brows knit in surprise.

It looked like it pained him to say it, but Aspen could tell there was sincerity in his words. There was no need for him to be as truthful as he was being. “I was an asshole to you that day in study hour, but I feel like you put words in my mouth. It made me angry - livid, so I figured if you saw me as the bad guy, I might as well let myself play the part.”

“What words?”

“You said I inherently valued your work less because you’re a woman - it isn’t and never was true. I knew that whoever Aspen Lee was, she was a woman, or at least identifying as one, according to MIT’s gradebook. The part that I couldn’t believe was that you were already there, helping him. I heard the way you spoke to that student, the way you pointed out his mistake but didn’t make him feel bad for it but didn’t baby him either. You knew that you were right and were unapologetic about it, but not mean. I’ve spent my entire time in the STEM field learning to cope with being belittled and scolded for a mistake. I think it’s why I do so well in the army - it’s the same shit.

“The company I work for outside of the military wants me to recruit talent in coding, C++ specifically. When I first saw your work, I thought you had to be a graduate student. I think that belief, that refusal to admit that someone younger than me could be so good at something I do day in and day out, prevented me from finding you. I’ve been trying to figure out who you are for months now. Dr Muher refused to introduce us, said something like we were too alike and would either bite each other’s heads off or . . .” Scott trailed off and cleared his throat, blinking away whatever memory came with what he just said, “All of that being said, I understand why you took what I said the way you did, especially here, at this school, but I would never devalue someone’s work based on their gender. What you heard in my voice wasn't misogyny. It was jealousy.”

A sudden wave of guilt washed over Aspen, causing her to hide her face again. She spent so many hours burning with hatred over him only to be wrong. “I guess I’m so used to being seen as someone who’s here to meet a rich man then do nothing with my degree once I graduate that I struggle to see people’s true intentions. And, there’s nothing wrong with doing that, but I’m just so tired of people seeing me and thinking they know my future while my male peers get asked what their aspirations are. Dr Muher is such an inspiration for me, and I felt so betrayed by her, like she was doing exactly what everyone else had. When I was in elementary and high school, I was in a STEM magnet school, and I felt so out of place, but when I’d go visit my grandmother in Oklahoma over the summers, I felt like I couldn’t belong there either. So, I’m sorry for my reaction. I think a lot of my anger was projection. But I am not sorry for the emotions I felt after."

Scott nodded, taking in her words. He extended a hand, “Truce?”

She wiggled her hand back into the sleeve of his jacket and shook it. “Truce.”

The door creaked and the elevator rumbled after a man shouted what Aspen thought was gibberish or possibly a German sneeze. SNECF. Her head shot up while Scott was already fully up and standing. She followed suit. The doors started to pry apart, the butt of a crowbar sticking out; whoever was prying was grunting with the amount of force it took. Scott kicked his steel toe boot into the crack the man made and positioned himself to push one side out, forcing the mechanisms in the elevator to open the other as well. The face of a plump man in a fire suit peered down at them. He was belly down on the ground, only a small sliver of the elevator was open to the 3rd floor. The rest of the door was blocked by the shaft.

He reached his hand out and waved her up, “Come on, Miss. We’ll get you up first.”

She abandoned her belongings but tried to take the jacket off herself to hand back to Scott but he shook his head, nodding in the direction of the fireman. “Least of my worries right now, come on, get up.”

She understood this was not a time for joking, nor was she in the mood for it, watching as Scott held open her only exit with his body. Aspen lifted her hands and the man took hold of her forearms, pulling her up with the help of another fireman. When she made it out, she felt like she entered a sauna. The heater on the third floor was working overtime, and she was thankful for it. She breathed out a sigh of relief, but her brow knit when she noticed the man who helped the fire chief get her out pick up an industrial fire extinguisher and take a few steps back from the elevator.

All she could see was Scott’s head, but through a tiny sliver of mirror she had access to, she saw a million versions of Scott take a shaky breath and reposition himself in the elevator doors, starfishing himself through them, palms out against the doors. Aspen looked between the two firemen, one who was not helping and another who was face to face with Scott and only held a crowbar between the doors. She quickly made her way over to the doors, but before she could grab a door and help keep it open, the man with the fire extinguisher grabbed her by the oversized jacket and flung her into the opposite wall with his full force. Her temple collided with the drywall, the thin material crumbing around her head as she collided with the stud. Scott leveled him with a glaze that Aspen couldn’t tell was anger or thanks. “If you two aren’t going to help, at least let me.”

“It is too dangerous, Miss.” The man who grabbed her said.

“You guys said you wouldn’t get us until it was clear.” She rubbed at her temple, grimacing as she pulled back and saw her hand coated in red.

No one responded.

Scott hoisted his legs up, holding the doors open with nothing but his hands and the crowbar, his knees rising to his chest. He took a second to breathe before lifting his legs to the patch of floor and sliding his body out, belly down on the floor. The second he let go, the doors snapped the crowbar in half with a ferocious thunder. Then the elevator fell down the shaft with a deafening crack, leaving a gaping hole in the wall. Aspen quickly wrapped her hands around Scott’s bicep, helping him off the floor, opting to not mention the bloody handprint she left on his shirt.

“Jesus Christ, you’re freezing cold.” Aspen immediately shrugged off his jacket and tried to hand it back to him. He dug in his pants pockets and pulled out a cloth, pressing it to her temple, hard. The two firemen were calling in the rest of UPD and whoever else the school deemed in need to handle the fallen elevator. The man who flung her earlier took position at one end of the hallway while the chief took position at the other to direct any passersby away.

He grabbed her by the shoulder with his free hand and walked her away from the gaping elevator shaft. He finally took his jacket from her as she took over applying pressure, sliding his arms through and trying not to react as the smell of cherry vanilla perfume filled his senses and as though there wasn’t a patch of her blood on the collar. Scott barely had time to zip his jacket back up before a man rounded the corner, shouting Scott’s name and title. It was clear he knew who was speaking; his feet shot together as he pivoted, his posture correcting itself, his chest puffing out, and his hands coming to his side.

Aspen took a step back as a man in his mid fifties approached. When he was about 6 steps away, he spoke again, “At ease, soldier.”

Scott’s hands came to rest behind his back and Aspen averted her eyes. It felt weird seeing Scott so obedient, so tame. Her wandering eyes found the elevator shaft; if she focused she could feel the cool breeze coming up it. It was pitch black in the gaping hole in the wall, the other elevator sitting pretty and untouched. No doubt there was caution tape already put up in the breezeway. She was certain that there would be crazy rumors about the incident on the school’s YikYak page.

But as she stared at the shaft, all her brain could play was different imagingings of Scott pulling himself out of there a second too late and going down with it. Her mind conjured up scenarios that made no sense: him headless, him bodiless, all different ways of him dead. All because he let her out first. She must’ve been staring for a while because when someone touched her arm, she blinked hard and turned to see Scott looking down at her.

“Sergeant Miller, bring this lady to an urgent care. No school affiliated doctors.” He turned to walk away but hesitated, turning back to Scott. “Get yourself checked too, while you’re there. Report back to me.”

“Yes, sir.”

She tried to protest, but his commanding officer had turned to another soldier who came up, giving orders.

“You okay?” He glanced between her and the elevator shaft.

She gave a half-hearted smile and nodded, “Yeah, yeah, I think so. You really don’t have to bring me to urgent care. I’m fine. It’s just bleeding a lot because it’s on my temple.”

He pursed his lips, eyes flickering from hers to the drywall dust sitting in her hair and the roll of blood down her cheek. He didn’t think she was aware there was a strip of blood on the exposed stud. “I cannot ignore an order from a commanding officer.”

The urgent care physician had eyes the size of saucers when he was taking down the reason for this visit. He started with Scott who kept a clenched jaw and flared nostrils nearly the entire time. He received a clean bill of health and a hand written and signed note stating he was allowed to continue duty as needed. Aspen on the other hand was given a doctor’s note excusing her from classes for the rest of the week for a minor concussion, only after a few too-nosy questions.

“I do want you to avoid screens and long periods of staring at boards and notebooks, so I’ll write a note excusing you. But Miss, are you pregnant?”

“I was stuck in an elevator for four hours, not an orgy.” Aspen was annoyed. She had already told the nurse that she was not pregnant and had to deny a urine test.

Scott let out a choked sound in the back, but the doctor pushed. “Exposure to the cold for that long can have an effect on a fetus. Are you positive you’re not pregnant?”

Aspen let out a scoff of disbelief. “Exposure to the cold that long can have an effect on me. How many times do I have to say I’m not pregnant until I’m believed? So unless you’re about to get on your knees and pray over my virgin womb for the second coming of Christ, then just write the fucking note.”

Scott gave her the keys to his truck once the doctor finally discharged them. He swiped his card as she climbed into his passenger seat. He joined her a minute later, their printed visit notes in hand. He handed her hers and she glanced over it and snorted before reading out loud, “Miss Lee presents to the clinic today with complaints of a possible concussion and extended cold exposure. Voiced complaints of mild double vision, ringing in bilateral ears, and nausea. Denies any slurred speech. Upon examination has poor eye tracking ability and has laceration on left temple. Cleaned and bandaged.”

“Sounds normal.”

“Yeah, until: Patient is argumentative and vulgar. Pregnancy status remains unknown.”

Scott took his hand off the gearshift, turning to her. “No way.” He’d glanced over his report earlier and the doctor had referred to him as ‘pleasant,’ something he hadn’t been called since his great-grandmother was alive.

Aspen held out the paper for him.

“You’re sure?”

She let out a belly laugh, shaking the paper for him to grab, “I think we were one more ‘are you pregnant?’ away from you watching me have a pap smear. No, I don’t care if you look.”

Scott looked over the report, “I’m taking you to a different urgent care.”

She waved her hand to dismiss the idea, adjusting in her seat to try and escape the beaming sun that came from behind a cloud. He reached out and pulled down the visor before producing a pair of sunglasses. “I’m fine.”

“If MIT sees this, they’re going to try and weasel out of any blame. You need to see a doctor that isn’t going to write off valid points as you being argumentative.”

She inspected the sunglasses, trying to tell if they were actually going to stop UV rays. “If MIT wants me to piss in a cup to prove my unborn child didn’t stop the elevator, I will. But right now I just want my bed.”

“You need to see a-”

She turned to him, fast. “What I need right now is to be alone because quite frankly everytime I see your face my brain plays the sight of you almost dying this morning all because you let me out first. I am holding onto my composure with the thinnest thread of humor right now. Please just take me home.”

She turned back in her seat and put the sunglasses on, hoping it would hide the welling tears in her eyes. Scott didn’t quite know how to react, so he just let her direct him to an apartment building near campus. When he parallel parked, she took a deep breath and went to take the sunglasses off.

“Keep them.”

She lowered her hand back down. “I just realized all of our stuff was in that elevator.”

“I’ll see if anything was salvaged and see if I can get it to you. You have a way to get in?”

“Yeah, my roommates don’t have class until 10, so at least one should be there. I’m in that one.” She pointed to a window on the 3rd floor with a Christmas tree in the window despite the fact it was nowhere near the season for it. A beat of silence passed. Aspen couldn’t find the courage to look at him. “Thank you. For everything, I-”

He held his hand out. “Don’t.”

More silence followed that Aspen didn’t know if it meant she was to leave.

“See you next Monday?”

She gave a small smile before nodding, “Yeah, I guess see you next Monday.”

She was freshly showered and no longer smelling like Scott Miller’s stupidly attractive cologne. She swiped open her phone and lowered the brightness, busying her mouth with biting her thumb nail, and typed in what she hoped was the spelling of what she now knows was a command.

SNECF

Nothing besides a few Polish articles about sunscreen.

SNECF command

Nothing aside from dog training and a targeted ad about Polish sunscreen.

SNECF military

Jackpot. But in a bad way. Aspen locked her phone when she saw it and processed what it meant.

SAFETY NOT ESTABLISHED, CIVILIANS FIRST. This command is given amongst first responder and military personnel when a situation may be dire or serve as a threat to life and/or property, but civilians are present and informing them of said situation may cause panic that would worsen or in some way prohibit the ability of personnel to adequately perform safety evacuations or further assessments.

She saw Scott before the next Monday. He knocked on her door three days later. One of her roommates opened the door and waved him in. He wasn’t sure if that meant this girl had no sense of self preservation or if that meant Aspen had explained what he looked like - or possibly even shown the horrible photo of him on the MIT ROTC webpage - to them. The apartment was clean, if a little dilapidated. They had a small Roku TV as the centerpiece of the living room, a tapestry of a shirtless Marvel or DC or some other superhero pinned above the couch with thumbtacks. The area above the cabinets in the kitchen were decorated with empty liquor bottles. It reminded him of the house he shared in undergrad. “She’s in the room with the pink door.”

Sure enough, down the hall, there was a room with a hot pink door decorated with My Little Pony stickers. It didn’t seem to match any of the other door styles in the apartment and didn’t fit in the doorframe currently. The edges of it were sawed and sanded down poorly. He knocked.

Aspen’s voice responded. “Why’d you knock? Just come in.”

Scott assumed she thought he was one of her roommates. It wouldn’t have been fair to walk in. “It’s Scott.”

Shuffling ensued, but after a few moments the door opened to Aspen, still dressed in her pajamas. She gave an uneasy smile, “Hi.”

Scott held up her backpack and smirked, his dimple popping, as he tapped her door with his knuckle, “Hi Pinkie. I was able to convince UPD to give your things back from evidence.”

“My roommate’s boyfriend fell through my door, and I got the Landlord Special. Be careful, Pinkie Pie will give you a splinter.” She took her bag from his hand and opened the door more to let him in. She sat on the edge of her bed, motioning for him to sit wherever. He opted for her desk chair. Aspen pretended to not notice the way his legs spread and his arms crossed. “UPD has an evidence locker?”

“It was mostly confiscated scooters, but yes.”

“God, the only thing UPD does that benefits this campus is infiltrate the scooter gangs. I shouldn’t have to fear for my shins walking to class.”

“They do also save people from elevators.”

She snorted, still sorting through her bag to make sure everything was there and undamaged. “The fire department did that.”

“Then the fire department threw you into a wall so hard you cracked the drywall and got a concussion.”

“My mother would classify that as a symptom of my hard-headedness.”

“She’s got that right.” He muttered. Scott was met with an attempted pillow to the head. Instead, it grazed him and knocked down her pencil cup. He pivoted in the spinny chair to clean it up and to gather his thoughts as he was once again clouded by her scent. He should’ve just given the backpack to her roommate and left, but no - he needed to see her. And good thing he had.

“Just know that hit the other you I see.”

His brows furrowed. For a mild concussion, she should’ve been far on the mend by now. The weeklong excuse was liberal to ensure she was fully healed. “Still have double vision?”

He turned back to her after putting the cup back in order. She shrugged, placing her laptop back in its home at the charging dock on her nightstand. “Nothing worse, just continuous symptoms. double vision is only for stuff not in front of my face, though.”

“So most things on Earth?”

She placed a finger to her lips and shushed him. She went back to looking through her bag, squinting at different items such as chapstick and lip gloss. The room was only illuminated by a floor lamp by her bed, casting the entire room in a warm glow. That response wasn’t good enough for him; he stood from his spot and walked over to her, arms crossed as he hovered over her. When his shadow cast over her, she looked up, head tilting all the way back to take him in. He held a small flashlight in his hand that he produced from one of his many pockets. “Hello?”

“Let me see your eyes.”

She jokingly tucked her hair behind her ear. “At least buy me dinner first.”

“Aspen.”

She gave a little pout but repositioned herself so her feet were touching the floor as he widened his stance to bring himself closer to her. He reached a hand out but stopped short of her jaw. “Are you okay if I touch you?”

She nodded, too nervous to give him her usual snarky comeback. She had curled herself into his jacket in a broken down elevator and was half asleep in his passenger seat after the urgent care, but this was somehow the most intimate moment the two shared. His hand was warm and calloused, rough against the skin Scott was sure she had a 10 step skin care regimen to maintain. He turned the small flashlight with the other hand to the lowest setting he could manage. He slowly ran the light over her eyes, watching her left pupil fail to shrink, staying wide. He tried to ignore the two butterfly bandages on her temple. When he finally let her go, she could barely see his jaw tense amidst the white splotches in her vision from the light. She blinked and looked around the room, trying to escape the splotches but they followed wherever she looked until they dissipated a few moments later.

“You need to go to the doctor again. A real office, not an urgent care. ER preferably.”

She huffed, “Not this again.”

“Really? ‘Not this again?’ Your concussion is bad. You need a CT scan.”

She laughed out loud at that; his expression stayed serious. She held her hands out around her room. “I can’t afford to live in an apartment where I have a normal bedroom door. You think I can afford an ER visit for them to tell me that I need to rest for the next couple of days?”

“I’ll pay for it.”

“What? No. I’m fine. And speaking of-” She reached to dig in her bedside drawer, producing a wad of twenties. She held it out to him. “For the urgent care copay.”

He shook his head, his arms crossed across his chest. “It was $60 dollars. And I’m definitely not taking your money for it when I think that doctor’s a total quack.”

She ran a hand through her hair, “Please take the money, Scott.”

“Not unless you go to the ER.”

She leveled him with a stare. “I’m not saying this to be difficult. I do not think I need to go to the ER. My symptoms haven’t gotten worse, just persisted, which isn’t unheard of from what my Harvard premed roommate tells me. They check on me periodically and make sure I haven’t asphyxiated in my own vomit. Please just take my word.”

He took a deep breath through his nose to ease his emotions. He didn’t understand why he was so concerned about this girl he considered his number one pain in his ass a mere 4 days ago. All he said was “Okay.”

“Thank you.”

He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a business card that had his name and ROTC office phone and scribbled his personal phone number on the back and placed it on her nightstand, next to a full glass of water and a pack of gum. “Call if anything happens.”

She blinked at him, reclining back on her palms on the bed. “Where do you get these things from? A cloth, then a flashlight, now a business card? And you kept your wallet in your pocket and not in your duffle bag that day. Very convenient. Very Mystery Mousekatool of you.”

“It’s called being in the military. Everyone should have that on them, sans business card.” He took a seat back at the edge of the bed, showing he was only staying for a few more minutes.

Aspen nodded. “Speaking of being in the military, why’d you join?”

“As you so eloquently put it, my name’s not on a fucking building. And Kansas isn’t really known for its rich families who can send their kids to MIT as legacies.”

She sighed, understanding all too well. She readjusted to recline against her pillows. “Too bad you didn’t get stuck in an elevator before the recruitment officer found you. I got a refund check for the semester’s tuition already, along with a promise of all-costs-covered for the next three semesters.”

He sat with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped. “You civilians have it so easy. I got a letter stating it was a ‘hazard of the job’ for me, so they will be providing a refunded copay for the urgent care visit that may take 6 to 8 weeks to process.”

She had to suck in her lips to keep from laughing out of shock. The two talked for another few minutes, Scott skirting the topic of what he reported back to his commanding officer (there was no way he was going to tell her that his captain asked how his “girlfriend” was doing and when informed that they were in no way a couple, was told “she should be - she makes you a lot nicer”). They got a few more subjects in before Scott noticed her responses getting slower and mumbled, her eyes fluttering open and closed, fighting sleep until she couldn’t. He quietly stood and turned her lamp off, making sure not to touch the edge of the door before he shut it behind himself.

The same girl he saw earlier was still in the kitchen, prepping her dinner. Another girl in maroon scrubs sat in the chair at the bar, a piece of pizza in one hand as she scrolled on her phone in the other. Both girls glanced at him when he closed the door before making eye contact with each other, having a silent conversation that Scott knew was about him. He figured if they were already talking about him, it didn’t hurt to interject. “Has she been doing okay?”

The first girl pointed her knife at the girl in scrubs, deferring to her. She put her pizza slice down in the box. She nodded as she finished chewing. “Yeah, for the most part. But if her symptoms stay this prominent for another day or two, I’m taking her to the ER.”

He raised his eyebrows, feigning as though he hadn’t tried to talk her into going a few minutes earlier. “ER?”

“I’m more concerned about the vomiting and nausea. She can’t keep anything down. I’m scared she’s dehydrated.”

“If she needs to go, call me, my number is on her nightstand. I’ll take her. I can tell them what happened.”

She tried to subdue her lifting brows and growing smirk. “Will do.”

Luckily, Aspen was on the mend the next day, her vision combining into one big picture again and her nausea slowly subsiding. She was back in class the next Monday and back in Dr Muher’s class for the first time in a while. Students murmured when she walked in, but settled quickly. She gave Scott a smile and took her usual spot four rows back and eight seats in. As Scott graded papers during the class, he found himself searching the faces of the massive class, continuing to land on Aspen’s, except instead of trying to incinerate the other with their gazes, she gave a small smile before turning back to the lecture. After everyone filed out, Dr Muher walked over to his desk, her heels clicking deafeningly on the tile floors. “I told you so.”

Scott fixed her with one of his famous glares.

She held up her hands in mock surrender. “Just remember what I said, you’ll-”

He shooed her away with his hand. “‘-either bite each other’s heads off or get married.’ Yeah, yeah, I remember.”

#imagine #twisters #twisters 2024 #twisters movie #fanfic #scott twisters #tyler owens #Scott miller #scott x reader #twisters fic #Scott twisters imagine #Scott miller imagine #one shot #fanfiction #twisters fanfiction

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cosmicschmidt · 11 months

Text

Dating Mike Schmidt HC’S

Mike Schmidt x fem!Reader

Word count: 2,7k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, punching, smut (NSFW/MDNI), tell me if I missed anything <3

Reblogs and requests are always welcomed <3 (just like pointing out grammatical mistakes :))

Mike is the type of guy to show everyone the cold shoulder before letting them in

Even when it came to you, right at the beginning of getting to know each other he ignored most of your attempts where you tried talking to him.

But you were stubborn, and kept on trying, ignoring his hard shell that had yet to be cracked by you, and when it did, ugh that guy was all over you.

That´s how most of works, you´re strangers, then friends and love follows shortly after.

Although with Mike the road had been a little bumpy. He's the type of guy to never ask for help, like ever.

There was that one time when he desperately needed someone to look after Abby for a few hours while he was searching for a new job, it almost ended with him taking her with him. But luckily you just came to visit them and were able to take care of him.

Although Mike wanted to pay you, you assured him that he didn´t have to, and that spending time with Abby was enough, she loves you, like LOVES you.

That ended with him forcing money into your hand and you pushing it right back into the palm it just came from.

He´d sigh at your stubbornness, and eventually accept your gesture.

Mike mostly shuts himself up whenever he´s asked if everything is okay, like how he slept or how work went.

You know about his trouble sleeping and his problems with running from one job to the next, only to be fired a week right after.

And over the time you spent together, you´re always able to read him, his gestures and the look he sometimes gets when he´s sad.

And the only thing that ever calms him down is your touch.

The simple feeling of your skin against his is able to slow his breathing and his quickening heartbeat.

And his sort of. let's say small anger issues come hand in hand with jealousy and this urge to protect you.

So you can imagine what happens when the both of you walk down a street hand in hand, and some guy decides to call on you, telling you that you could do much better than Mike, and commenting on your body.

That doesn´t end well for him though.

Within a blink of an eye, he's on the guy punching him square across his face, grabbing the collar of his shirt that then is painted in small droplets of blood that spilled from his nose.

A small crowd of people would gather around him, some urging him on to punch harder, some screaming at him to stop with his punches.

And when he doesn´t seem to let up on it, you can´t help but step in, not with words though you know they won´t get to him, you just quickly put your hand on his shoulder before he seriously hurt the guy beneath him.

With the softness of your touch on his shoulder, he stops in his tracks, his eyes meeting yours within a second and quickly lets go of the barely conscious guy.

There were other times when his jealousy showed, they don´t always end in bloody messes, just some of them do.

There was this one time where he waited outside of the store you worked at, your shift only lasting for another five minutes before the both of you could go home.

He always did this, even before you got together, he always picked you up so you didn´t have to go home all by yourself.

So when he was standing outside and got bored, he decided to look around in the shop, looking at all types of clothes, rating them in his hand and imagining you in some of them.

And when your sweet honey voice reached his ears he quickly spun around, his eyes searching for yours, although you didn´t call out to him, you talked to someone else.

A guy, a little taller than him is standing in front of you, smiling at you and sometimes trying to touch your arm, but you seem uninterested, yet your polite smile is still plastered all over your face.

Mike can´t help but notice the way he looks at you, and from the distance he can still hear the faint words that fall from his mouth.

"You´re like really pretty, you know that?" the guy says while leaning against the counter.

"My boyfriend thinks so too," you reply with a fake smile on your face, as you keep putting the stuff he bought into a bag.

"You´re boyfriend? I don´t see him anywhere, why don´t you come with me and I show you a good time, hmm?" the guy dares to touch your arm again, but that only causes you to pull it away.

Mike can´t help but clench his jaw at the situation that plays out before him, his hand tightening around something he picked up, it cracks in his hand but he couldn´t care less.

He throws the broken pieces onto the floor before him and takes rather quick strides toward him in order to close the distance that separates him from you.

"Hey asshole, back off," he says, choosing a slightly louder tone.

"Who are you? Don´t you see I´m occupied?" he turns his head back to you, and now touches your hair, smirking in the process.

That alone crosses the line even further, without thinking Mike´s fist collides with the guy's head.

I lied, actually all of his jealous moments them end with a bloody face. (not his tho)

Moving on, Mike is as already mentioned cold with everyone around him, but with you it´s different.

He has this soft spot for you, which makes it possible for you to get through with almost everything.

Whenever you ask for something from him all you need to do is smile at him and his knees go weak.

This leads him to not being able to say no to you when you begged him to take you with him to his new job, yes, the new job.

In all honesty, Mike had no idea what awaited him at his new security guard job, he thought spending some time with you could make it easier so why not, when Max was available to keep an eye on Abby, the was nothing stopping the both of you.

Although the old restaurant got the creeps and definitely caused a shudder of fear running down your spine, with Mike you always felt safe.

After taking a look around the worn-out and old building, the both of you settled in a room full of computers that showed the most important rooms he had to keep an eye on.

You knew about his past, about the guilt that haunts him in his dreams ever since, and how to ease his mind.

So when you both sat in front of the small T.V. you somewhat grew tired with time passing, until your eyes fluttered shut and you gently rested your head against Mike´s shoulder.

With you near him he doesn´t need his walkman and the sounds of nature to fall asleep, with you he feels safe and knows he still has the chance to go back to his dream in order to solve the still open case of his little brother's disappearance.

Yet, if he ever does stir awake from his dreams, some end with him waking up with tears streaming down his face and a thin layer of sweat covering his skin, you always wake up at the same time, ready to comfort him.

He´d tell you about it over and over again, with tears not stopping and small cries leaving his lips, but you listened every single time.

If he´s by himself he never falls back asleep, no matter how hard he tries to.

But with you by his side, everything seems so much easier.

You´d let your hands glide through his brown locks of hair, and scratch his head softly to lull him back to sleep, he´d rest his head against your chest and hug your waist, in order to be as close as possible to you.

Those moments might just be the most bonding moments of your relationship, the fact that you were always able to lean onto each other at your lowest points.

That´s one side of your relationship, the sweet and reassuring one, and then there's the other one, the one with the constant thirst for the other one.

Seriously, he can´t get enough of you, the way you scent sticks to his sheets or how he always feels agitated when you´re not by his side for two hours.

And when you do get back his hands would be all over you.

Like that one time, you worked an extra shift, covering for your friend that called in sick.

He sat on his couch, his knee bopping up in nervousness, he knew you´d take longer, considering you have to stay another 45 minutes.

But he just couldn´t wait for you to be in his arms again, this job he´s currently attending wearing him out more and more with such little payment.

His eyes stared at the T.V., some show he´d been watching for the past 20 minutes playing, but he stared right through the screen, in his own little world thinking about all the things he could do to you.

So when your keys jingle right outside on the front porch signaling him you´re finally home, he can´t help himself but jump up from the couch, move over to the door and pull it open.

There you stand, your eyes on your hands as you´re occupied with finding the right key for the door, but his sudden action of ripping the door open causes you to look up.

"Oh, hey Mike-" you start to speak, the view of your boyfriend washing away all the stress within seconds.

But Mike doesn´t let you finish the phrase, before he pulls you through the door and slams it shut, shamelessly pushing you up against it, the dim light of the room shining against the side of your face.

His lips easily find their place on yours, a feverish kiss breaking out, your lips fitting against each other like puzzle pieces, his eager and desperate need to taste you again, -he just did this morning- growing with each passing second.

The kiss caught you off guard, a small sigh which could be counted as a soft moan causes your lips to part slightly, Mike can´t help but use that as an opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, and his skilled muscle meets yours.

Eventually, you have to part, your burning lungs screaming at you to fill them with oxygen again.

Soft puffs of air leave yours and his mouth, your chest raising quickly with how breathless you become.

You open your mouth slightly, the words at the tip of your tongue before you´re yet again cut off by him, his head disappearing in the crook of your neck, his lips meeting the most sensitive spot right under your ear. His sudden action makes you moan, his lips delicately sucking on your skin until it hurts a little, only for him to ease the pain by gliding his tongue against the spot.

Throughout your small moans and whimpers, you quickly shove him off of you, your eyes widened in realization.

"What about Abby?" you breathe out with a gasp, your upper body leaning away from him and take a step to the side and walk all the way to her room, when you´re about to peak through the door, Mike somehow made it right behind you, his body warmth all the way over your back.

His only response is his lips, he presses them against the right side of your neck his eager pace yet again returning, you feel his hands sneak down to your waist and lower to your hips before he whispers against your neck;

"She´s at a friend's, some sleepover.", his words make you breathe out in relief, the fear of her catching the both of you quickly washed away, your mind now finally consumed by him.

His appetite grew the more you leaned into his touch, his hands quickly unbuttoning your pants and pulling down by the hem of them.

"I- I need to-" he starts, but you´re quick to respond;

"Again?" you giggle, searching for amusement in his brown orbs, but he´s more serious than ever,

"I can´t Y/N, I need to taste you." his words make your arousal grow.

He waits for your consent, and you quickly nod your head at him to continue, he does as he´s told without wasting another second, your pants now roughly pulled to the ground as you kick them off.

You´re facing him again, he´s on his knees before you with his hands firm around your hips, your hands tangled into his soft brown hair, combing it gently.

He won´t wait another second, he wanted you again ever since you left his house for work, so he´s eager to kiss his way all the way from under your breast to the side of your hips, his thumbs now under the thin fabric of your panties, gliding his hands down and taking them with him. His eyes never leave yours, he´s quick at pulling them all the way off, his mouth immediately making contact with your heat.

The sudden contact of his warm mouth against you pulls a moan from you, your head falling back against the wall in pleasure, he groans at the taste of you, his tongue sliding through your folds and dropping once or twice down to your hole making you squirm against him, your hands pulling at his hair.

He is quick to react and pulls one of your legs over his shoulder, spreading you further and pushing his tongue into you, now deeper than ever at the newfound angle.

A high-pitched moan falls right to his ears, his left hand tightening around your hip and the fingernails of his right hand softly dig into the fat of your thigh, making sure to leave a mark he could lick over in the morning.

His tongue left your pulsating hole, making you clench around nothing.

"You taste so fucking good." he hummed out, before licking a strip through your folds again and dragging his muscle all the way to your clit, roughly sucking on the nub, making you arch your back of the wall, your hands tightening in his hair.

Your moans echo through the hallway, as you mindlessly grind yourself against his face, causing him to suck again, with his tongue now flat against your heat.

Mike was completely drunk by the taste of you, as he whimpered and moaned against you, the vibrations of his sounds running all the way through your body, your orgasm quickly building with each drag of his tongue.

His mouth and chin are coated by your slick, but he doesn´t seem to mind, he just buries his face in you again and sucks softy, groaning at your taste on his tastebuds.

As his licks grow longer and deeper, your moans grow louder, the hand that was previously on your hip slides up to the small of your back and he holds you there, steadying your body with his tight grip.

"Common baby, make me happy and cum for me."

Your groan at his words, your hands pulling at the back of his neck to pull him deeper, he moans at the sensation.

You start to see white, your eyes rolling back your peak almost overtaking you whole, and with a final suck you do, he pushes you over the edge.

"That´s right, you´re mine.."

He moans against you at the view of you falling apart in his hands, the vibrations he sends through you heighten the orgasm.

He keeps licking, taking hold of all your juices, until you have to push his head away gently, the overstimulation setting in already.

The both of you breathe loudly, you more than him, desperately trying to grasp a hold of the air, as your chest starts to move slower, your heartbeat slowing down.

"Abby needs to attend sleepovers more often," Mike admits before he kisses the inside of your thigh, his words make you laugh.

#mike schmidt x reader #headcanons #josh hutcherson #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie #smut

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bats-and-birds-24 · 21 days

Text

Chapter 15:

Talia could feel her temples throbbing from the mess she’s going to have to face. Bruce would not take kindly to knowing that he has another son, one that he knew nothing about. And that’s not even touching the situation with Jason right now. At the very least, Timothy should have filled in most of what has happened to the two, which should lighten her load considerably.

Jason was still resolute in his decision to remain in Nanda Parbat which should cause considerable friction between him and Bruce. And where does Dick fall in this situation? She knew that her beloved’s eldest was not a fan of her and wouldn't take too kindly to Damian’s existence, or keeping Jason’s existence a secret from them.

She shook the thoughts away from her mind, she would simply have to trust Tim for now. The door to her office opened as she began to plan for what might happen next.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The silence was deafening as Tim sat across from Bruce and Dick in his guest bedroom.

Bruce seemed to be processing his explanation of what he’s been up to until this moment. Dick had his head in his hands. Neither were taking things well. He watched as Bruce got up to stare at the window for a few moments before coming to sit back down.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” When B looked at his face, he seemed wearier than he had been before, the dark bags under his eyes were evidence of the weight on his mind since the start of this whole ordeal.

“Well, you were not exactly in the best mindset to accept this information. I figured it would be best to keep you out of it until I could see for myself if it was real.” Tim answered honestly.

Bruce exploded at that. “What do you mean I wasn’t in the best mindset? I’m your guardian, your boss, your fa-. It’s my job to know where you are at all times and keep you safe!”

Tim too had reached his breaking point, “Keep me safe? Keep me safe? That’s what I’ve been doing for you ever since I became Robin! Were you keeping me safe when you beat up all those petty criminals back in Gotham? Or when you would disappear and leave me to inform the commissioner on cases? You were out of control Bruce, you were putting people in the hospital for simple muggings! You needed a Robin to calm you, to keep you in check.”

He could see in Bruce’s eyes that he was faltering, “And I was right, I kept Jason’s resurrection from you because I knew that if it wasn’t true, if it ended up being just a fluke, you would simply shut yourself down even further and refuse to see reason. I had to make sure that my hypothesis was right before reaching out to you.”

“I- you- but,” Batman faltered as he met Tim’s eyes, storm gray met icy blue, and in that moment, Bruce felt a swirl of emotions with anger, disappointment, gratitude, failure, and love for his third child. How he wished he was a better father, to Jason, to Tim. He stood up, not breaking eye contact.

Tim wished he knew what was going on in B’s mind at that moment, but all he could pick up on was a hurricane of emotions, not being able to place a single one. So there was no way in hell that he could have predicted what was about to come next.

Bruce pulled him into a bone crushing hug, the first he had ever gotten from him.

There were obviously more issues that needed to be addressed, but for now, this was enough.

The two didn’t notice as Dick left the room, he had a lot on his mind and needed a moment alone to think.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He could understand why Tim didn’t want to drag Bruce into this, but why did he leave him out? What about Barbara and Alfred? They all saw Bruce go through this depressive state and yet he didn’t reach out to anyone else, he tried to shoulder this burden by himself.

After all the two had gone through together, did he still not trust him? Why not tell him about Jason? He would have loved to help, and he would have kept it from Bruce. He slid down a wall, his head pounding, of course he would get a migraine now.

His head in his hands, he let his guard down in the heart of enemy territory, he didn’t notice the flash of black taking away a set of keys.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cass had done it. She had stolen from a protege of Batman. She had to admit, she thought that this was going to be much harder than it actually was, but then again, he was going through severe emotional turmoil, so it wasn’t exactly fair.

She quickly made her way back to her quarters. Her living space couldn’t have been more different than Jason or Damian’s large opulent studios, she only had a small windowless shack of a room, as her father requested. After all, weapons and tools don’t require more than a well insulated shed to be stored. A small pile of clothes and a pillow next to an exposed brick wall made up her bed. She curled up in her little bed pile and looked at her prize.

A set of keys needed to start the batplane. If Batman and co. wanted to leave Nanda Parbat, they needed to take her with them. Just a few more days and she’ll never have to see the face of the man who claims to be her father again. She’s seen Jason’s face when he talked about Bruce, there was anger, yes, but there was also fondness, nostalgia, and even the rare true smile of joy when he recounted his memories to her.

He didn’t need to be a good parent, just better than David Cain, and powerful enough to keep him away. Besides, even if she didn’t like him, she like Tim, Damian, and Jason well enough, and what she had heard about Dick along with her brief meeting with him seemed to paint him as a kind man who loved his family. She hoped that her new family would treat her better. Exhausted from the day’s events, she fell asleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jason sighed as he stood before Dick. Dick had removed his mask so Jason could feel his baby blues stare into his soul. In a bid to cut the awkwardness, he tries to start a conversation, which fails terribly the moment he opens his mouth. “So, uh, how are things going back in Gotham?”

Dick lets out a hysterical laugh, “You come back from the dead and this is the first thing you ask me? No ‘hi Dick.’ ‘I missed you Dick.’ ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I came back from the dead Dick.’”

Jason panicked, “I’m sorry! It’s just, I wanted some time for myself. After the pit I was in a fugue state and I only recently got my memories back, and you know, I just wanted to train so that I could eventually kill that damned clown.” Once the word vomit ended, Dick looked at his brother’s face to see him looking ashamed of himself.

Jason knew that they didn’t exactly start off liking each other, what with replacing him as Robin and all, but they had grown closer over time. His emotions of late had mostly been anger and disappointment in Bruce, a melancholy nostalgia when thinking of Alfred, and resentment and outrage towards Tim, the last of which he only recently got over after meeting the kid for himself.

Dick took a step back, “I yeah, I guess that’s fair, lashing out at you wasn’t going to do any good.” He paused and turned to look at his baby brother, so much had changed, yet so much had remained the same. The shape of his eyes, the shade of his skin, and the way his speech combined the grit of Crime Alley and the poetry of Sylvia Plath, and yet so much had changed, his eyes were no longer pure blue and had instead taken on a tint of green, no doubt from the pit, he was taller, more muscular, and his face seemed to be set in a permanent frown.

“So things in Gotham have not actually been going great, uh, B didn’t really take your death well to say the least.” He said, scratching the back of his head. Jason gave a sardonic grin at that, “Yeah, I’ve heard. Tim told me he’s been babysitting B since he’s apparently lost all common sense.”

The grin turned into a scowl in a blink of an eye, rage bubbled up to the surface. If he had been so distraught at my death, why didn’t he kill the reason behind it? Why did he have to go around beating up low level crooks and muggers who merely want to make a living instead of finishing off the biggest reason for crime in the city?

Jason steeled himself, but the brief change in expression already told Dick everything he needed to know. Jason catches his breath and motioned for Dick to sit in a chair as he himself sat on his bed. “We have a lot of catching up to do.” Dick cracks a smile, “Yeah, we do.”

#batfamily #batfam #batman #dc robin #jason todd #batsiblings #tim drake #bruce wayne #red hood #red robin #orphan #black bat #cassandra cain #cassandra wayne #talia al ghul

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mommycitas · 4 months

Note

hiii could i pls request negan x reader where the reader is sick and brings negan food in his cell bc it was her job and she starts to fight blacking out. maybe collapses right by his door and he reaches for the keys and gets out to help her. reader being concerned he’ll get in trouble bc he runs up the stairs to get someone’s attention maybe coming straight back to you. stuttering a “i’m scared” and holding out your hand. negan just being like r u sure and he holds it

A/N; thank you for the req!!! I love this idea so much and I hope you love what I wrote!!! And for the sickness I just gave reader like a flu/parasite typa thing but if you wanted something else lmk!!!

summary; Even when you are sick, you still have a job you have to do. When your body shuts down on itself, you get to see a sweet side of Alexandrias prisoner.

pairing; Negan x sick!fem!reader

Pronouns/Name; She/Her , Y/N

Warning; swearing, being sick, throwing up, mentions of death, feeling like dying. NOT PROOF READ !!

Word count; 786

You shift in bed, covered in a hot coating of sweat and having a pounding headache. Sitting up you already regret ever being born. You couldn’t handle being sick and here you were, a mess that felt like death. But still, you had your dumb ass job. Being able to live in Alexandria was great and all but for fucks sake, why couldn’t someone else feed fucking Negan when you were in bed practically throwing your guts up? Feeding Negan wasn’t much to do but it was 90 degrees out under the blaring sun and doing all that walking wasn’t really your idea of a good day. But then again, Michonne said you have too because you’re the only person that can stand being around him. You put on your comfiest summer clothes and walk to the pantry.

Most of the time, someone had already prepared his lunch for you. Everyone felt bad you had to deliver all his meals to him but you really didn't mind him. You felt like one of these days you'd be able to see the sweet side of him. You make it to the pantry and find a meal fit for a prisoner inside. You sigh to yourself spinning on your heels and making your way to his cell. You look up at the sun and can’t help but already feel exhausted and ready to go back to bed. Tiny black dots sprinkle your vision as you walk down the steps to the holding room. Fumbling your keys and opening the door you’re welcomed with a warm smile from Negan. "Hey doll, how are ya?" He gleefully asks "Oh, you know" you shrug off. You stumble over to the cell he's locked in and grab out your keys once again. "How are you today Negan?" you slur while inserting the key, but he gives you a strange look. You feel a wave of heat wash over you before you drop the tray.

The sound of the metal clanging on the concrete floor rings in your ears as your vision goes blurry. Your legs start to give up as you topple over. Looking up at Negan through the black spots in your vision. You watch carefully as he reaches through the bars and opens his cell and runs out. "Shit!" you thought "he's gonna get his shit kicked, he's gonna get in so much trouble, and it's all my fault." you feel an abundance of saliva in your mouth as you try and sit up, throwing up all over yourself. Laying in a puddle of your own spit, throw up, and blood. It feels like you've been left for dead, you can barely even sit up, how are you supposed to get help? How were you supposed to know that a simple sickness would be the cause of your death?

You turned over to look at the entrance and saw Negan running down the stairs and kneeling next to you. "Sorry for leaving you, doll. I had to get someone to help." you smile slightly at him before coughing yet again. "Negan" you stutter and slur "I'm so scared." reaching your hand out to his "Am I dying?" he stares at you blankly, hesitating for what seems like years "No, no you're not dying Y/N. You'll be alright." grabbing your hand intertwined in his. Michonne and Siddiq run down the stairs and lift you up, caring you to the infirmary. Negan never letting go off your hand once as you passed out.

You open your eyes and see you are in the infirmary, laying on a pitiful cot. Siddiq is right next to you, replacing your iv bag. "Oh good, you're finally awake!" He proclaims once he notices you. "You had a real nasty bug, thankfully nothing too serious." You smile and nod "Thank you Siddiq" No longer slurring or stuttering "Where's Negan?" he gives you a weird look before pointing to a corner of the room. As you sit up and turn your head you see Negan, blissfully sleeping in an arm chair. "He's been here since you got here, he refused to leave your side." "How long was I out for?" looking back at Siddiq. He shrugs "A day or two maybe"

You look back at Negan and realize you finally were able to see the sweet side of him. You watch as he slowly opens his eyes and notices you're awake. "Doll, you're up!" he practically jumps over to you, embracing you in a warm hug. "I was so worried you wouldn't wake up." You softly smile into his neck and wrap your arms around him. You were thankful for the man who was a monster in all your friends eyes.

#negan fanfiction #negan smith #negan x reader #twd negan #twd x reader #twd #twd x y/n

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ptn-imagines · 7 months

Note

ngl i rushed to the inbox at the speed of light. could we please get a continuation of cinnabar and fem chief's romantic relationship headcanons? especially marriage related ones if you will 🥺 thank you!

Thank you for your patience! I had a lot of fun writing this request, though I did focus a lot on the proposal and wedding, so if you want more married life headcanons, well, feel free to ask!

Marriage-related headcanons with Cinnabar and F!Chief

Cinnabar and Chief dated for about five years before Cinnabar finally popped the question, and even that was only due to the egging of her comrades at Serpent Eye.

Cinnabar was so hesitant around the idea of possibly messing things up with her beloved girlfriend that it wasn't until Alyosha posed a grim scenario that she realized she had to act: “You both have a very dangerous line of work, Cinnabar. Either of you could die at any moment and you'd live with the regret of never getting to marry her the rest of your damn life.”

Though Cinnabar truly hoped she would go out before Chief, she was wise enough to know Alyosha's words rang true, so she began to plan her proposal.

Even after she'd made the decision, it still took a while for Cinnabar to get everything ready. A month or two, at least, and she made sure to casually bring up the topic of marriage, just to make sure the Chief was favorable to the idea. Cinnabar felt like she could've fainted from relief when she was.

Several members of Serpent Eye offered to help with her proposal, but Cinnabar turned them down. She didn't want a big, grand gesture, just a small, intimate moment between herself and her girlfriend.

When the day came, Cinnabar stood in front of a grave in an Eastside cemetery, dressed in a fancy suit and holding a bouquet of roses. Her nervous anticipation was at an all-time high as she waited for her girlfriend; she knew this was a bizarre place for a proposal, but Chief would understand and appreciate the sentiment… She hoped.

Indeed, when Chief arrived, she was quite confused, though she accepted the bouquet nevertheless. Cinnabar rolled out a blanket and placed a picnic basket down on it, saying that she wanted to introduce her father to her girlfriend… Understanding dawned on the Chief then.

As the picnic neared its end, Cinnabar had to fight nervous instinct to keep from constantly checking her pockets. The ring box was there, everything would be fine, she needed to stop worrying…

When she determined the moment was right, Cinnabar took a deep breath and shifted to get on one knee. Chief stared at her with wide eyes as she began, professing her endless love and adoration, as well as how happy Chief had made her, and how she wanted to stay eternally by her side…

Cinnabar pulled the small box from her pocket and opened it, revealing the simple but nevertheless beautiful ring within. “Chief, will you marry me?”

For a few moments, Chief seemed shocked still, terrifying moments in which Cinnabar held her breath. Then, the Chief beamed brighter than Cinnabar had ever seen her do so before, hugging her tightly. “Of course I will, Cinnabar,” she whispered, offering her hand for Cinnabar to slide the ring onto.

As they left the graveyard hand-in-hand, Cinnabar paused for a moment to look back at her father's grave… Somehow, she had a feeling that he approved of his daughter's chosen wife.

The members of the Bureau, as well as Serpent Eye, were extremely congratulatory for the pair, and offered their help as well. Cinnabar and Chief were extremely grateful for it, as their jobs were still extremely busy and left little time to plan their wedding.

Langley and Nightingale's help, in particular, was invaluable; there were several officials that protested Chief's union with a Sinner, but with their help, Chief was able to get them to concede and get all the needed paperwork processed.

The day of the wedding finally came around a year later. The chosen venue was an old chapel in Syndicate, miraculously mostly untouched by the hands of time – it did need a little fixing up, but there was no problem.

Cinnabar waited at the altar, trying not to fidget with her suit. Members of Serpent Eye were seated on one side of the venue, and members of the MBCC on the other – her family and the Chief's, respectively.

Finally, the doors opened, and her groomsmen walked down the aisle. Her Best Man, Alyosha, nodded at her as he took his place at her side. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to Cinnabar.

Now came the Chief's bridal party. She'd opted to have two Maids of Honor – Zoya and Shalom. The Paradeisian was more than happy wearing a dress, but Zoya had been allowed to wear a suit.

The ring bearer and flower girl could be none other than Hecate and Hella. Though many of the kids in the MBCC had wanted the positions, everyone kind of already figured it'd go to those two, and were happy enough being bridesmaids for the Chief.

Finally, Chief herself made her appearance. Cinnabar's breath caught in her throat as she laid eyes on her bride; as per tradition, she hadn't been allowed to see Chief the night before the wedding, so this was Cinnabar's first time seeing her in her gown; pure white, simple but flowing, with minimal lace. Very Chief-like, Cinnabar thought.

Langley had been chosen to walk Chief down the aisle and hand her off to Cinnabar. When her bride-to-be stopped in front of her and smiled, Cinnabar felt as though her heart might beat out of her chest.

Their vows were simple and sweet, yet brought many to tears – including the brides themselves. Not a single person doubted that these two were made for each other.

When Nightingale announced that she could kiss the bride, Cinnabar felt overwhelmed. She gathered Chief into her arms, hugging her close as they tenderly kissed, met by the cheers and applause of their friends and family.

Indeed, Cinnabar was sure this would be the happiest day of her life. The reception passed in a blur and mostly without incident, but Cinnabar had never felt more elated than in this moment.

(The ‘mostly without incident’ was due to Hella trying to start a food fight. Luckily, Chief reined her in fairly quickly.)

Unfortunately, due to the demands of their work lives, the two of them didn't really have time to have a honeymoon. It was a shame, because they could have used one. They did manage to snag a weekend off, though, which they spent at an Eastside hotel, doing their best to forget about work and enjoy their newlywed life.

Still, when they returned to the Bureau, not much changed. The wedding was mostly a legal formality, a status change recognized by official channels; in truth, the two had behaved like an adoring, married couple for many years prior.

In fact, the biggest change was that, by combining their marriage documents with Cinnabar's exceptional bill of behavior, Chief was able to wrangle special privileges that allowed Cinnabar to share her room with her, rather than having to return to her cell each night.

And as Cinnabar fell asleep that night, her wife in her arms, she couldn't help but think that was more than enough.

#ptn #path to nowhere #ptn cinnabar #path to nowhere cinnabar #cinnabar #ptn headcanons #path to nowhere headcanons #headcanons

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thewalkingwillowtree · 2 years

Text

His Fierce Flower

Series Part Listing Found Here

BF2L, Slow Burn - Neteyam x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Neteyam and Enyu, childhood best friends are both obliviously in love with each other. This is their story.

Important to note before reading:

Some characters have been aged up. Neteyam is 22.

En'yuna or Enyu for short (pronounced as N Yunna or N U), is my own creation.

Full recognition, rights and credit is given to the owners of Avatar.

PART 6 - Open

“Open.”

Enyu mindlessly chewed on the berry Neteyam fed her while she focused on the tablet in her hands.

“Open.” He fed her another.

She sat cross-legged on the floor of one of the food storage tents, conducting inventory on a few racks of cured meat that came from the smokehouses that morning.

What was supposed to be a simple task turned out to be a much bigger issue. Many of the other items in the tent had not been catalogued nor organized. The tent was in complete disarray- not to mention the mess of data she was currently looking at.

Meanwhile Neteyam, who had completed his patrol all of last night and also already managed to have an early morning training session, had the rest of the day off. As per his usual routine, he tracked her down and decided to keep her company until they could go do something “more fun”. His words, not hers.

“Open,” he repeated. He was laid stretched out on his back, ankles crossed with his head comfortably resting in the well of her folded legs, feeding- or more like sneaking her berries from the bowl balanced on his chest.

“Open.”

“Mmpff-'Tey, you have to at least let me chew first,” she spluttered, grasping his wrist. “And I told you already, I’ll eat when I’m done here. I still have a lot to do. Also, you promised to not distract me if I let you stay.”

Enyu knew it was a futile promise. At first he was quietly sitting in a corner- as agreed, sharpening his knife then whittling a piece of bark. And then the next thing she knew he was nestled in the cradle of her legs, trying to force feed her.

Ever since their little “misunderstanding” a little over a month ago, he’d been extremely apologetic. It also seemed as if their friendship shifted a bit as well- for the better she would say. They'd seemed to be further attached to each other lately.

She couldn’t quite put her finger on it but he seemed even more attentive and affectionate than usual- which she just chalked up to be that he’d been afraid of losing their friendship and was now trying to compensate. They’d never fought like that before and she was just as glad as he that they were fine again.

He released an annoyed sigh. “Flower. You haven’t eaten anything for the day.” He tried to sneak another berry past her lips which she took, but in retaliation she nipped his fingertips and, still staring at her work, ignored his cry of protest. “Why are you even doing all this anyway? Isn’t this Väriä’s job?”

“Yes, but I’m covering for her. Which is good because this whole thing is messed up and I doubt she’d be able to fix it since judging by these last entries- was all her fault in the first place.” She frowned at the tablet in her hand then looked up at the items stacked around the tent.

The humans they lived with had shared their technology with the Na’vi over the years. While the warriors were taught to use their weapons; guns and communication devices to name a few, they also influenced other areas of the clan.

The clan's food inventory, for one, had been computerized- and so new roles were created. Inventory clerks was the human term for it and Väriä somehow was lucky to have gotten one of the spots.

It was a simple enough job and Enyu enjoyed it whenever she was asked to help out. All fresh meat, dried meat, fresh fish, dried fish, fresh fruit, dried fruit, herbs, spices- basically everything coming in and anything going out was recorded.

Even though technically Enyu’s permanent role in the clan was “harvester,” she- like Neteyam had taken on many other responsibilities over time. When the humans had introduced the inventory system some years back, she was so fascinated that she volunteered to cover shifts in her free time.

Inventory was overseen by one of the Elder Chief Officials who ensured that the clan was sufficiently provided for while still making conscious efforts to not waste what was given onto them by Eywa. It was why every person in the clan had their part to play. No job was more important than the next. And sure some Na’vi saw some roles as being “above others” but if it weren’t for those “lesser roles” as they so liked to call it, there would be no balance.

“Why are you covering for her again? That’s like the sixth time in two weeks! What’s she even doing?” Neteyam asked while grasping her wrist with a frown, so that she paid full attention to him.

“It’s only been the fifth time and I don't know, you know she never tells me anything. My tent mates think she’s actually being courted- well except for F’vailii. She thinks she’s just dodging her duties and off sunbathing or combing her hair somewhere.”

“Courting. Really?” he asked, shifting his head to see her face better. “Huh... But she’s so… vile. If it is courting, I wish whoever the poor soul is, good luck,” he snorted, while twisting the ends of her hair with his other hand.

Enyu glanced down at his face. “Yeah you laugh now but was it not just last month that she had her eyes set on you? That could’ve been your poor soul. What was it she’d say again? Oh yes, “Ohhh Neteyam can you come help me lift these heavy baskets? Ohh, you’re so strong, what would I have done without you Neteyam! Neteyam can mpff-” Enyu, mimicking Väriä’s sultry annoying voice was cut short when he reached up and stuffed another berry in her mouth to shut her up.

For good measure, he flicked her forehead playfully. “Har har har. Not funny. That’s a very scary thought and I’d rather we not talk about it. Seriously though, why hasn’t anyone reported her to the Chief Official, yet? I’m sure she wouldn’t be pleased to hear what Väriä’s been doing. She could do something about it.”

Enyu swallowed her bite and shrugged. “Like you said, 'Tey, she’s vile. No one wants to cross her. She’s untouchable anyway you take it- being the niece of one of the council members. I’ve seen her use it as a shield and get away with a lot of crap no other Na’vi’d be able to since I’ve been living with her.”

Neteyam hummed, thinking. She flicked his forehead knowingly then tilted his chin so he’d look at her again. “Don't even think about telling anyone. I live with her, remember?”

“My dad could help. Their next council meeting is in the-”

She smacked her palm on his chest, halting him. “That’s even worse than telling the Chief Official!” she cried. “Can you imagine they’re having a council meeting, and your dad goes, “Oh right, your niece is being a little bitch to her roommates. Can you tell her to stop?” Please don’t say anything to your parents. It’ll be fine.”

“Bitch?” he questioned amusedly, his hand mindlessly moving to intertwine their fingers on his chest instead. “You need to stop hanging out with my brother.”

“Actually, I got that one from Kiri,” she said proudly.

“Her too then,” he said seriously. “How about you just stop hanging out with my entire family then, hmm? They’re just corrupting you anyway. It’ll be great for me! No more Tuk hogging you the whole time.” He smiled wishfully, as if it were the best idea in the entire world.

“Yeah, that’s not happening. I already miss them a lot right now. My schedule’s been crazy lately.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, I wonder why.” He said it so sarcastically that it came out bitter instead. “Shit. I’m sorry,” he apologized quickly. “I didn't mean it like that... Can we just- not talk about him?”

“Fine. Alright.” She squeezed their entwined fingers reassuringly. “Back to the topic at hand then. I didn’t hear any agreement, 'Teyam- about not telling your parents.”

“Yes, alright. Fine! I won’t say anything to my parents about the fact that your roommate has been slacking off and making you do all of her work which is preventing you from spending any time with me-” he spat, sneering at the piece of technology she'd just put down as if it offended him. “But, only if you stop to finish this,” he said, raising the bowl toward her with a hopeful smile.

She snickered at his dramatics but took it from him and placed it to the side shaking her head. “After,” she responded.

He groaned peevishly and rolled around restlessly, laying onto his stomach. “You are frustrating, woman!” he exclaimed, sounding very much like that one time she heard Jake addressing his wife during an argument. “How much longer? I’m sooo bored. Ugh!” His complaint was muffled into the inside of her thigh, so she grabbed the braids at the back of his head to see his face again.

“You know, I don’t come and bug you when you’re out on a hunt or patrol and whine and complain that you’re taking too long. You don’t have to stay. You’re acting like I’m holding you hostage.”

“Well maybe you should, come bug me. It’d be a lot better if you were there. And I’m quite happy where I am right now, thank you very much,” he shot back, with a naughty grin before snuggling back into her thigh and gripping her ankle. “Now shhh, my lack of sleep from last night is catching up to me. Can you do that thing to my back, please?”

“Oh, now I'm the one bothering you? 'Teyam, I’m supposed to be working!”

That meant nothing to him it seemed because the next thing she knew, his tail sailed around blindly before finding and wrapping around her wrist, guiding it to his back in silent demand.

She scoffed at his antics but being unable to say no to him, she glanced at her forgotten tablet then turned to focus on the needy Na’vi before her.

She soothed and scratched his back for a little while before moving his hair aside and began to knead the tense muscles from his neck to as far down his back she could reach, then back up again. He groaned in contentment, squeezing her ankle appreciatively at her ministrations, causing her to bite her lip at the sounds he was making. His grunts and moans and sighs sparked something inside her.

Neteyam’s back was well defined and toned from all his training. His skin, soft yet hot to the touch felt sinful beneath her hands as her nimble fingers moved over and over his body, working out all the kinks and knots they could find.

“Enyu,” he growled breathlessly, sounding like he was falling into a pit of pleasure. She inhaled at the sound of his raspy voice and gasped when he bit into the flesh of her thigh when she rubbed a particular spot too deeply.

Eventually, after a while of working the muscles on his back, she shakily sat up straight, slowly removing her hands from him, deciding that that was enough for the day. There was an unfamiliar coil inside her that had come to life, fluttering in parts of her that were private, and she was very unsure on what to do about it.

Feeling breathless and a tad light headed, Enyu stared at the Na’vi in her lap who had fallen asleep. She’d given him many massages before but none had quite affected her like that. Had he felt it too? She shook her head. Maybe she was getting sick?

While he dozed, she was able to get a lot completed without any interruptions. She just couldn’t move, unfortunately. The actual tent organization would have to be done later but for now she focused on fixing the data.

An hour and a half later however, she heard a rustle and looked up to see Neytiri enter the tent, pausing at the scene her son and his friend displayed.

Enyu froze also, her ears perked with alertness, one finger stilled, hovering over the tablet. Glancing down, she blushed furiously when she paid attention to her and Neteyam’s current and extremely intimate position. First Jake, now Neytiri? Was she being punished by Eywa?

Neytiri moved gracefully into the tent. “Hello, Enyu. Kiri said that I would find you here. I see you have company already though,” she mused as she observed the stock surrounding them. She peeked into a few of the crates and baskets curiously- sniffing approvingly at the smell of the smoked meats, and then, eventually sat across Enyu on the blanketed floor.

“Hi, yes… he kind of- fell asleep,” she responded a bit sheepishly.

Even though Enyu had known Neytiri all her life- having grown up alongside her children and fortunate enough to have been one of the few who got to see inside the private lives of the clan’s leaders- their softer sides, Enyu was still very much still intimidated by her best friend’s mother. Jake and Neytiri had been nothing but kind to her all her life and though she knew they weren’t her parents, she found herself constantly seeking their approval.

Neytiri’s eyes fell on her son again, who was lost to the world. His cheek was squished against Enyu’s thigh, mouth ajar with a little drool trickling down and his hand was now wrapped around her tail. His own tail was spasming now and then in his sleep.

Enyu bit her lip nervously. She knew that the mother was extremely protective of her children. She remembered how long it had taken her to warm up to Kiri’s "friend" Spider. Years! It had taken years. She knew Neytiri and Jake approved of her friendship with Neteyam, but lately she’d been a bit awkward around them ever since her conversation with Lo’ak and Kiri a while back, about the whole “mate” thing.

His mother snickered. “He’s always slept with his mouth open like that since he was a baby. He snores too sometimes.” They both giggled quietly at her revelation.

Enyu looked down and couldn’t help tucking away a stray braid behind his twitching ear and when she raised her head again, Neytiri was watching them with a soft fondness. Her eyes though- held a hopeful expression but when she shook her head as if shaking her thoughts away, it was gone.

“Is everything alright?” Enyu asked.

“Yes.” Neytiri smiled. “I haven’t been seeing you lately, so I had to track you down myself. I only came to say that I am taking Tuk and Kiri to the valley in the morning to pick éveshik for the Eywa prayer tomorrow night. Would you like to go with us?”

The younger Na’vi’s jaw dropped a fraction at the offer, lips tugging upward. “I would love to. Thank you.” Even after all these years, she still felt touched when the Sully’s wanted to include her in their family activities.

“Good. Kiri said you can fly with her… So… Is my son behaving? He’s not bothering you is he?”

“No,” Enyu replied almost too quickly. “I like having him around.” She couldn’t help but be honest about it. This seemed to please Neytiri because she smiled in response.

“Have you recovered from your kidnapping? I hope that is not why you have been avoiding us lately. My Jake said you seemed quite mortified at being caught.”

“Oh Eywa…” Enyu mentally face-palmed, unable to control her blush. “Yes. No! I- well it wasn’t- we,” she blew out a breath to compose herself, “we had a bit of miscommunication and I’ve just been busy lately, is all- not avoiding any of you, I promise… Your son can be very-”

“Passionate? Yes, he can be. I know my son. He is so like his father. They are very protective over their-” she seemed to think for a moment, “most precious belongings. They do not like to share,” Neytiri emphasized, eyes squinting with hidden something. She nodded towards her sleeping son. “He clings to you as if you would disappear.”

Enyu huffed and grinned a little. “I’ve grown used to the clinging. Although it seems to have gotten worse lately. We’re working on the sharing part- though I don’t think we’ve gotten far since he’s been like this since we were children.”

Neytiri chuckled at the fact that Enyu did not get her meaning. “Yes, I remember. My husband has this saying about you two, “thick as thieves”, it means never one without the other.”

Momentarily distracted, Neytiri glanced at her forgotten tablet and then at the harvest stock surrounding them, realization gracing her face. “Have you been doing all this on your own? Where is the Na’vi who should be on shift?”

“Uh- yes? It’s not that much though, really. I can manage,” Enyu said, biting her lip.

Raising a brow, Neytiri responded, “This looks like two day’s work, Enyu.”

Saved from answering, the loud screech of an ikran roused Neteyam from his nap. He rolled onto his back, his head falling back into the cradle of Enyu’s legs as he stretched and yawned loudly. Blinking up at his friend and rubbing sleep from his eyes, he smiled sleepily and tugged on one of her braids. “Hey, how long have I been out? You finally finished yet, Flower?” he asked cheekily, voice deep and raspy.

“Good morning or shall I say good evening?”

At the sound of his mother’s teasing voice, Neteyam scrambled off Enyu’s lap, almost comically. Sitting up, he wiped the drool trail from the corner of his mouth, wide eyes taking in her presence.

“Mother. Mom, hey.” He shifted awkwardly then shot Enyu a look that clearly read, “Why didn’t you wake me?”

Neteyam, as if suddenly realizing something horrifying, looked suspiciously between the two women. “What are you two up to?”

“Bah! Nothing. We have just been talking. Can I not talk to Enyu without you always intervening or accusing me of something?” his mother cried.

“Yes of course. I- I was just...wondering,” he said, clearly lying. The truth was Neteyam hated leaving his mother and Enyu alone. When he was a teenager, he walked in on his mother giving Enyu a very detailed explanation about why he was being more “cranky” than usual, citing that his, “body was changing and he was turning into an adult Na’vi now- becoming a man.” Another time, he overheard her telling his best friend that he peed his bed until he was five. He was mortified! Only Eywa knows what other embarrassing shit his mother had said about him.

As if sensing his untruth and wanting to teach her son a lesson, Neytiri turned and asked Enyu about his most hated topic ever. “So Enyu, I’ve been meaning to ask you about your tutelage. I figured that’s why you’ve been so busy lately. How is your student- Yaćksön, was it?”

Neteyam’s jaw ticked and his nose flared in irritation. He hung his head and massaged his temple while trying to drown out Enyu’s excited chitter chatter with his mother on said disliked topic. He sighed, whatever tension Enyu had worked out on his muscles was back again- tenfold this time.

After Enyu’s explanation to him about Yaćksön a month ago, Yaćksön went before the council and his father with his confession. He was stripped of his title and position and given a two year sentence of ikran excrement collection duty. On top of that, he officially chose his “new position” for training as a harvester and to Netayam's displeasure, the fool asked Enyu to be his tutor.

To say that Neteyam disliked this new development was putting it mildly. At first he didn’t seem to mind, this was a great opportunity for his best friend. She always liked teaching and was very excited about officially being a tutor. She used to practise her teaching skills on Neteyam when they were younger, since it was her dream job.

After observing the two returning with the other harvesters one evening however, he saw something that made his blood boil. Yaćksön was flirting with his best friend.

Enyu had laughed off his observation when he told her and her response of course, was that he was “just being nice to her.” He knew the fool though, Neteyam wasn’t stupid. Lo’ak and Spider had to both physically restrain him from going over and causing a scene when he’d first seen them.

Neteyam looked around the tent, refusing to take part in their conversation. His eyes caught sight of the still full berry bowl next to Enyu and he became even more agitated. Was she seriously trying to kill him with her stubbornness?

“Mother, I’m sorry to interrupt but-” Neteyam said, interrupting their discussion and leaning closer to Enyu. “You still have not eaten anything,” he hissed quietly at her.

“Neteyam, don’t be rude,” she chided quietly as well, eyes glancing at his mother.

“Enyu! How do you forget to do something like eating? Eating!” Neteyam scolded. “You frustrate me woman. Honestly.” He leaned over her to pick up the bowl, deposited it on her lap and gave her a look that said, “Eat.”

Neytiri’s gaze bounced between the two, quite entertained. She bit down a smile when she saw Enyu pinch her son in the side for the scene he was causing but still yet she obeyed and took a bite of the fruit.

“Well, it is getting late, I should go pick up Tuk from her afternoon class. Enyu will we be seeing you tonight? My mother is making that fish you like,” Neytiri asked while getting to her feet.

“I’ll be there,” Enyu responded with a smile.

“And this mess,” said Neytiri gesturing to the stock around them. “I expect that you leave it to be taken care of by the Na’vi responsible for its state in the first place.” Neytiri had her no nonsense expression on now and Enyu nodded in obedience.

“Yes ma’am,” she said respectfully.

And with that Neytiri bid them goodbye and then the two were alone again.

“That’s it? Yes ma’am? Why do you agree so quickly with her but yet I have to get a lecture every time about how I’m “nagging you too much?”

Enyu pushed a handful of berries in her mouth to refrain from answering, smiling sweetly at him through her mouthful.

“Oh now you want to eat, huh?” he teased, grinning at her overstuffed cheeks.

'Gosh she’s beautiful.'

Jelly Tey back at it again! And it seems like mama Sully approves.

Anywhooo as always:

I'm sorry if there were any errors.

Please reblog, like and let me know if you enjoyed it in the comments :)

Take care for now.

@love13tter @behindthearcane

#neteyam #neteyam x oc #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x reader #avatar fanfiction #neteyam fic #neteyam fluff #neteyam imagine

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bunnyboowrites · 9 months

Note

Okay I have a request it’s about sanji during wci when he was at germa and he was sad because of his stupid siblings the reader is a maid and she receives bad treatment from his brothers so basically they treat each other’s wounds and bring comfort to each other with soft affection maybe some smut ? ☺️🫶🏽

alright! I'm so sorry it took so long I got caught up in the holiday stuff. I am not actually through WCI yet... just starting because I'm a big dummy and I forgot so if this is bad I apologize in advance i just looked up the names and read up on how they act but I'm kind of unsure still. Not proofread and oh yeah if it sucks it's cause I'm half awake on New Year's Day!!! Warnings: smut, p in v, cursing, abuse

Take me away

Y/N was scrubbing the floor, and Niji and Yonji were watching. She could feel her body aching from the scolding she got before for missing a piece of food Yonji dropped seemingly on purpose.

"You're such a waste of space; you can't even do the job we keep you here for." Yonji kicked the brush from her hands, his boot digging into her fingertips, searing pain running to her brain. She could feel Niji's presence behind her. He was running his hand up her neck and grabbed her by her hair, his grip so tight she was sure he was going to take some of her hair. "What should your punishment be, you worthless piece of trash?"

Hot tears were running down her face; she could only look down in fear. Of course, she would mess up the simple tasks she was assigned; now they were using her for entertainment until they got bored. It had been like this since she was young. Judge Vinsmoke had found her; she was alone at sea, and she thought she had met her savior, but she had met her captor instead.

She hadn't been able to leave, no matter how many attempts she made; she was given to Reiju. She was always behind the eldest Vinsmoke, but when she was dismissed, she would be allowed to just be by herself, thinking about how she could escape and daydreaming about how much better life would be if she was back home.

One day, she was caught trying to escape again and given one of the most brutal beatings she had to date. Sanji appeared; he was a light in the sad and tired life she led. His kindness kept her from being a numb and mindless zombie; they would dress each other's wounds and generally be a kind of support, knowing they weren't alone in this world. But like all good things for her, it came to an end when Sanji disappeared. She was utterly alone and forced to endure countless sessions of inhumane punishments for a single smudge or some other bullshit excuse they came up with.

She felt a surge of joy to hear that the blonde would be returning. His marriage to Pudding had been a victory for Judge, and he was constantly gloating about his partnership with Big Mom. She was cleaning the dining room to prepare for the engagement dinner when Yonji and Niji appeared to bother her once again. Niji let go of her hair, but the momentary relief was overshadowed. His boot hit her right in the stomach, and she buckled as she groaned in pain. Yonji laughed as he put his full weight on her hand. Thankfully, her torture had been cut short by the arrival of the third son.

"What are you guys doing? She's a lady, and she should be treated with more respect." Sanji walked over to kneel beside her. He looked at her disheveled appearance and couldn't help but feel disgusted at her treatment. He couldn't check on her for long because his younger brother laughed. "Of course the other trash is here to save her." Yonji struck Sanji with a punch to the face. Sanji hissed and glared as the pair decided they were leaving, now done with tormenting Y/N.

She broke down into quiet sobs. Sanji sighed as he grabbed his eye and stood. He picked her up, cradling her trembling body close to him. He thought to move them to somewhere more private so that he could calm her down and check her out fully.

Once they got to the room that he had been staying in, he went to grab a cloth to wipe her face with. She had older cuts that were now open again, crimson red running down her neck, and he felt himself grow angry with his family. "Y/N-san, it's okay now; you can trust me." It came out as a hushed whisper, like he was afraid that if he spoke too loud, her sobbing would worsen.

"Like, how could I trust you to stay here with me? You left without even saying goodbye," she whimpered. "Sanji, I cried every night because I didn't know what happened to you; I thought you died." She erupted into tears again, and he just sighed and ran the towel over her gash.

"If I could've told you, I would've, better yet, would've taken you with me, but I couldn't." He gazed into her eyes with years of regret. "I never should have left you here with them; I missed you every day, Y/N-san." He placed the bandage on the wound and sighed. "I'll go get us some ice packs; please just lay in bed and get some rest." He walked to the door and gave her one last look. She thought against lying in bed, but she ultimately gave up on being afraid of what would happen to her if anyone else found her in his bed.

When he got back, he grinned to himself when he saw her sleeping on the bed. She looked so at peace in her sleep that he remembered how pretty he thought she was when they were younger. He would always try to woo her, and she would just say that she wasn't beautiful. He always thought that she just couldn't see what he saw.

"Hey, Mon Ange, wake up for me." He softly shook her awake, and she wiped the sleep out of her eyes and let out a groan as she stretched, the pain in her limbs catching up to her. She noticed how close he was to her. "Sanji, I'm glad you're back," she sighed. "Even though you're getting married," she said, Sanji couldn’t help but shake his head at the mention of his fiance.

"We don't have to think about the stuff going on outside right now, Ange; just worry about you and me." She watched as he put the ice down. He leaned in closer; their lips were now inches apart. She let out a gasp, and he closed the gap, pressing his lips to hers. They were slightly chapped, and he felt her hand run up his torso, and he shivered.

"Sanji, should we be doing this? What if someone finds out?" She shudders at the thought of the punishment she would receive if the judge found out. Sanji ran his hand over her jaw, urging her to look at him. "I'll never let them hurt you again; I have a plan to get you out of here." He placed a kiss on her forehead. "You'll have to leave without me, though beautiful, but I promise I will get you out."

She was at a loss for words; she had dreamed of this moment since the day she was found. Sanji and freedom are the only two things she ever wanted, and he was here again to give them to her. Her eyes filled with tears, and she grabbed him by the face and smashed her lips back onto his.

Straddling him, she whimpered as his hands moved to her thighs, and he gradually made his way up to her plump ass. Her tongue ran across his lips, and he couldn't fight the grin on his face. "You're an eager one, huh, baby girl." She felt the embarrassment creep up on her. She shied away from him. "I-I just." She looked at his face and put a hand over her mouth. "Sanji, your nose is bleeding." She wiped the blood and sighed as she moved to get off of his lap.

He pulled her back onto his bulge and smiled at her. "Don't worry, baby, I like how much you need me." He rutted against her sweet little pussy, and he swore she let out the sweetest noise ever. "Sanji, is this a goodbye? I can't do this if I'll never see you again," feeling her fear he spoke carefully. "I will find a way to get back to you, even if I have to go through hell to get to you.”

He couldn't get any more turned on; her fucking body was doing so many things to him. "Can I take this off, gorgeous?" He grabbed at the ends of her dress; she pulled it over her head and grabbed at his shirt. "I don't want to be the only one, Ji," he smiled and looked at her; her breasts were looking so perfect, he couldn't help himself. "If you need to see me naked, that bad baby, you can get me undressed yourself," he said, leaning closer to her to take one of her perfect nipples into his mouth.

Y/N felt a pleasurable surge go through her; her pussy clenched around nothing. She began her work of unbuttoning his shirt as he switched to the neglected nipple while pinching the other. His pants were next on her list, but as she ran her hand down his stomach to his cock, he stopped her.

He flipped her down onto her stomach, fingers digging into her hips to angle them just right. Her pussy had left a wet spot on the white cotton panties she was wearing. He leaned down, and she felt him breathe in her scent. She whimpered and let out a weak "Sanji" as a scolding, but he was so focused on the smell of her perfect little cunt. His dick twitched as he groaned, "Fuck mon ange, it should be impossible for you to be this addicting."

He pulled her panties down to the backs of her knees, undoing his restricting pants and pushing them low enough so he could feel his cock be free from his underwear. His cock was so heavy she could feel it twitching and leaking sticky hot pre-cum onto her sun-kissed skin. She was sure she was leaving a puddle on the bed from how wet she was getting.

He ran the tip of his shaft over her hole and down and over her clit; he kept it up as her whines grew in volume. "Please, Sanji, please just fuck me; I need it so bad." He moved his hands, one to wrap around her throat and the other to slip a single finger into her wet hole. She moaned so loudly that she swore that everyone would know what was happening. His finger went so much deeper than she could ever reach, but she still needed more. Her hips were bucking trying to get more pleasure. "Fuck baby, that's it. Use my fingers to make yourself cum," he leaned down to her ear. "And then I'll fuck you so good you'll be my personal fuck toy forever." He slipped another finger in, much to her delight.

She was moving erratically now; he could tell by her broken noises and fucked-out expression that she was on the verge of cumming down his hand. He needed her too; so he could stop rubbing his leaking cock on her thigh and slide home into her aching, hot cunt. "Come on, my love, you can do it." His hand tightened around her throat. "Show me what a good girl you can be for Daddy." Before the last word falls from his tongue, she is trembling and pulsing around his fingers, and he purrs into her ear, "So good for me, Monange, such a good little girl with the most perfect fucking pussy." She keened at the praise.

"Are you ready for the real thing, my love?" he said as he gripped the base of his cock. She turned just enough to see his eyes. "I've never wanted anything more in my life," and he chuckled before pushing into her soaking pussy. It felt so warm, like he was in heaven, almost. It was taking all of his strength not to immediately start pounding her. His self-control was wearing thin "Please tell me when I can move, baby," he started trailing kisses down her neck and back.

Once she gave him the okay to start moving, she couldn't help but let out the sluttiest moans. His cock was dragging against her walls and reaching places she never knew existed. "So full, Daddy," she said, giving her a wicked grin. "Is it too much, my love? Your sweet pussy is only taking over half of my cock. There's still some left, love," he crooned. She just felt her eyes roll back when he hit a certain spongey spot. Her face fell into the pillows as he continued to rock his hips into hers. He was watching her ass as it jiggled with every smack of his thrust. It was hypnotizing to watch. He noticed her cries were getting more desperate, and the need in her voice was driving him closer to his peak. "Come on, baby girl, give it to Daddy," he murmured to her. "Cum on his cock and milk his cum into that perfect pussy."

She mewled as the building's white-hot pleasure erupted like fireworks in her belly. small whimpers of his name and how good he was making her feel, and that would be all it would take before Sanji pulled his cock out of her and let his load splash onto her ass and thighs with a high-pitched moan. Their labored breathing was the only thing that could be heard in the otherwise silent room.

"I'm going to get you cleaned up, and we are going to go meet someone who can take you away for me." Sanji pulled her into a kiss. "He's my captain, and I know he'll take care of you." She just gave a weak nod as she felt the drowsiness start to creep in. He just huffed to himself and got up to finish his plan to keep his love away from his awful blood family.

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okay, I have no idea if this is good but I did it nonetheless. hope you have a wonderful day/night xoxo bunny boo <3

#black y/n #black!reader #black reader #black reader insert #poc reader #black writers #sanji vinsmoke x black!reader #sanji x you

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penny00dreadful · 10 months

Text

Spies AU - Part 8

Part 1 Part 9 AO3

27th October 2015

In all honesty, Steve had planned to try to go about his life as normal in the week after his conversation with Hopper.

He was going to finish up his own mountain of paperwork from the Fred affair at Robin’s desk with her, without spilling his personal secrets and quite possibly the secrets of the whole fucking company like he’d been on the verge of doing every time he looked at her, end his day as normal, go home, eat, veg on the couch and then go to bed.

Standard boring stuff.

He was going to continue to keep his mouth shut.

Keeping his mouth shut was literally his job.

He was a spy.

Keeping secrets was, like, the main thing he needed to be able to do.

He’d always been good at it.

From his parents dirty little secrets that would have been eaten up at the monthly Homeowners Association meetings, to his own sexuality.

And when it came to the job, Robin knew that there were some things he just couldn’t tell her otherwise people might die.

But the problem with that was in all of those previous circumstances, Steve had been a consummate professional. Even when he had to keep his mouth shut about the kids he was protecting, Robin knew very little and understood. She was good with that. She knew it was a job thing.

This was so clearly not a job thing anymore.

Not even because Steve found the guy so stupid fucking attractive it made him feel like he dropped IQ points whenever he saw him, his brain filled with fuzzy static of prettyprettypretty. But also because he fucking cared.

Steve cared so fucking much about Eddie and wasn’t that just a terribly dangerous game to be playing?

He wanted to know what side of the bed he slept on, he wanted to know what his favourite food was, he wanted to know how he watched movies, if he had to pay attention to every second or if he talked the whole way through. He wanted to know how he tied his shoes or if he stayed in his pyjamas for as long as possible every day or if he had to be dressed to feel awake or how many sugars he had in his coffee or if he ate dairy or had any allergies or what the stupidest thing he ever did as a kid was.

Steve wanted to know everything about him.

And Robin could fucking tell.

She was staring at him from across her desk like she wanted to drill into his brain with her eyes and dig through the mess in there to figure out what was going on.

Because Steve would have told her immediately if it wasn’t job related, they both knew that.

So the fact that he hadn’t and the fact that he so clearly wanted to but still wouldn’t meant it was something got to do with work and Steve just hoped she thought he was hooking up with a coworker or something.

He couldn’t ignore her as he stared down at the papers in front of him, shuffling them around and flipping through them back to front and front to back, trying to distract himself, trying to avoid her eye and just hoping, somewhat hysterically, that if he didn’t pay attention to it then the problem would go away.

But of course it wouldn’t be that simple and he was fit to fucking explode.

He had to talk to her.

Not because he felt obligated to, not because a soulmate bond was an immediate right to all of his deepest darkest secrets, which it wasn't, but because he needed to.

He needed a sounding board, someone to bounce his brain off of. Someone to help him work through his messy thoughts and sort them all out. Someone to tell him he was insane and he needed to stop thinking like this.

Or alternatively someone to tell him to go for it, go get his man and sweep him away from everything dangerous, skipping off into the sunset.

He made it a whole week, stewing at Robin’s desk before he cracked, practically feeling the fissure running down his body, cutting him in half.

“I need to talk to you.” He muttered, head in his hands, hair clenched between his fingers and feeling like he was flayed open, bearing the softest most delicate parts of him in those words alone. Just waiting for her to wrap him back up warm and safe or take a vicious bite, though he knew in his heart of hearts which one she’d do.

He could hear Robin shift where she was sitting, his own gaze still trained on the desk below him while Robin was probably staring a hole through his skull again.

“Okay.” She said eventually, ignoring how Steve’s shoulders slumped in relief. “The local?”

“Yeah.” Steve’s whole body unwound, the tension practically bouncing from his back at the thought of finally, finally being able to get this all off his chest.

He had expected Robin to give him a little more flack for it, for giving in and clearly going against protocol, but she was his guy.

And he knew, he knew that she would always be on his side, no matter what.

“Do you want to go now?” She asked, already cramming her paperwork back into her drawers.

Steve started to follow suit, sorting his own papers out into neat little stacks. “But don’t you need to finish-”

“I can finish it tomorrow, this is more important.”

Steve’s heart swelled, glowing bright and warm. Robin took her job very seriously, but she was also serious about him and Steve loved her for it.

Maybe Steve hadn’t completely thought this one through. He was boxed into a booth with Robin who was acting surprisingly nonchalant about the whole thing, but that could be because she wasn’t quite aware of the gravity of the situation yet.

But he was a spy, right? Part of the job description was to get out of tight spots, literally and figuratively. So if he needed to vault the table and race out of the bar doors before Robin was able to catch him by the scruff of the neck, then he could do it easily, right?

However the way she was looking at him now with slightly raised eyebrows, just daring him to try while she drained her glass told him she would be expecting it.

And she always played dirty.

She went for the hair.

“Okay.” Robin snatched his glass out of his grip, the one he’d been swirling between his hands, trying to find the answers to all his questions amongst the amber and floating foam. She downed the dregs of his drink with a grimace. “I need you to talk to- ugh. I don’t know how you drink that shit. I need you to talk to me, stop talking to the booze.”

Steve shrugged.

He hadn’t even fought her on the robbery of his drink, just stared passively as she did it.

“It’s nice.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “Talking to the booze?”

“No, the beer.” He slumped lower in his seat. “It’s nice.”

“No, it’s not.”

It was a well worn argument. One they had nearly every time they came here together and Steve knew he was acting strangely. He was usually a lot more defensive of his tastes.

“Evie. C’mon, talk to me.” She threw her arm over the back of their booth and turned towards him, knocking their knees together and bringing them closer. “That’s why we came here, isn't it? Something’s bothering you and you’re ruminating and you’re going to start catastrophizing soon if you don’t let your conscience in.”

Steve huffed, smiling. “You’re my conscience in this scenario, Jiminy?”

“Yes, I am.”

“You’re awful at it.”

“Eh.” She shrugged. “I do okay for myself. You’re still alive aren’t you?”

“Somehow. Despite the drinks you mixed me during Dustin’s 21st.”

“Hey,” she gave him a light punch to the shoulder, “I was trying my best!”

“I didn’t even make it to my bedroom that night. I slept in my bathtub.”

“Steven.” Robin rapped him lightly on the shoulder again. “Don’t disparage that tub. It’s the comfiest tub I have ever slept in.”

“When did you sleep in it?” He sputtered.

“The night of my 25th.”

Steve blinked at her, confused. “But you were in bed with me that night?”

“I started out in bed with you, yeah. Then everything got really spinny. Then many things happened in your bathroom that I’d rather not talk about but I cleaned up after myself so it’s fine-”

“Is it?!” It had been over a year but now Steve was wondering if he needed to nuke everything all over again.

“-yes, it’s fine. Then I fell asleep in the bathtub and I woke up at some point in the morning and wandered back into bed.” Robin shook her head. “But we’re not talking about my 25th and we’re not talking about the horrors your bathroom has seen. We’re talking about your spiralling brain.”

Steve looked down, the smile slipping off his face.

With a deep breath he took her hand in his, sitting on top of the table and began to twist her rings around her fingers, like he could untwist his own thoughts with them.

Robin let him, waiting him out patiently while he tried to think of what to say.

“Do you think people can be good but be stuck doing less than good things because of their circumstances?”

“Yes.” She answered without hesitation, barely having to think about it, it seemed.

“I don’t… I don’t mean like stealing food from the grocery store so they can eat or- fucking forging prescriptions so they can get the meds they need or whatever.”

“I know. You wouldn’t be spiralling if it was as simple as that. You’d be helping.”

Steve couldn’t stop the tick up at the corner of his mouth. She had such faith in him.

“Like that guy in the alleyway?”

“The guy..?” She blinked at him, thinking. “Oh, the hot drug dealer?”

He bit his lip. “Yeah.”

“Then, yeah. Like him.” Robin’s words were soft but her eyes were bright, like everything was becoming so much clearer to her now. “Whatever happened with him, by the way?”

Steve tore his eyes away, looking back down at their hands.

“What if this good person has done some really fucked up shit?”

She scoffed. “More fucked up than what we do?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s in the ‘more fucked up’ category in my head because we’re the good guys and he’s-”

Steve swallowed and Robin gave his fingers a gentle squeeze, reassuring him that she was there.

“So, he wasn’t just a hot drug dealer?” She prodded, gently.

She truly was his conscience, his soulmate, the other half of his brain.

“No.” Steve shook his head and squeezed her fingers back. “He’s not.”

“Then who is he?”

Steve looked up at her again, darting his eyes in between hers, searching for any reason he couldn’t tell her. Anything. The slightest bit of hesitation or wariness or anything beyond soft curiosity. But there was nothing. She was just filled with concern for him and wanted him to get whatever this was off his chest. She just wanted to help.

If he could trust anyone with this information, it would be her.

“He's my informant. He’s Kas.”

Robin swallowed but otherwise didn’t move. She continued to stare at him, her face impassive and Steve could almost see the buffering symbol circling on her forehead.

She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and began to chew on it, still thinking, still processing.

Steve held tight to her hand throughout, almost unwilling to give her the option to pull back, even if he knew she wouldn’t.

“Kas is real? He’s not just a myth to scare baby spies and Creel’s enemies?” She asked, her voice even and calm in a way Steve knew she was still working things out in her head.

“Yeah, he’s real.”

“And you think he’s a good person? Kas? The Bloodyhanded? That Kas?”

“I do.”

She looked at him, watching every move incredibly closely and Steve felt like he was going through the most important quiz of his life.

“Why?”

Her question wasn’t accusatory and Steve knew that. It was just fact finding.

“I… I don’t know, honestly. He’s never hurt me. Even when I was quite literally at his mercy in what I’m pretty sure was his torture room, he never hurt me. And then again in Zagreb, with the goons.” He looked up at her. “I didn’t kill them, Rob. I didn’t take them out. He did. I was tied to a chair with a dislocated shoulder. I was finished. And he- I don’t know, I think he took issue with how they were treating me.”

“How they were kicking the shit out of you?”

Steve smiled a little, his mind repeating mine.

“Yeah, I guess. Maybe that was all it was, things weren’t being done his way but… he killed them. For me. I know it was for me. Because they hurt me.”

“Do you think he might have been doing it because he just thinks you’re pretty?”

“How do you know he thinks I’m pretty?”

“Everyone thinks you’re pretty.”

Steve tipped over until his forehead was resting on her shoulder, rolling his head to look up at her. “You’re right, it’s a curse.”

Robin smiled down at him, a gentle comforting thing.

Steve shrugged, an inexplicable shiver crawling down his spine. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and he straightened up, glancing around, expecting to feel eyes on him, but there was no one paying them any attention.

Most were too focused on the game playing out on the big screens around the bar and the streets outside the windows were empty.

He turned back to face Robin. “I don’t think it’s just because I’m pretty. I mean I haven’t seen him out saving orphans from fires or pulling kittens from trees but… I don’t know. He just doesn’t feel bad.”

They stared at each other in silence, Steve slumped and fidgeting through his nerves and Robin so still and all-seeing it was like she was some statue on top of a church.

“Okay.” She said simply.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. If you don’t think he feels bad then I think he’s probably not bad.”

“Oh. That was… easy?”

“Evie.” Robin brushed her thumb over his knuckles. “You’re the best judge of character I know. I trust you.”

“Risky thing to do.”

“I don’t think so.” She smiled at him again, bringing his hand up to place a kiss along his knuckles. “What brought this conversation on?”

“I don’t know. I-” he shrugged. “I’m worried about him.”

“Why?”

“I think I might have gotten him in trouble with his higher ups. Or his higher up, singular.”

She grimaced. “Creel?”

“Yeah, he was the guy who I stopped from killing Fred-”

“You stopped Kas?” She nearly shrieked, but remembered to keep her volume low at the last second.

“Yeah, I know. But I think on some level he might have let me. Like the guy is much faster than me, not as strong but very quick and I was able to disarm him and get him up against a wall? It just doesn’t add up. And I think that has put him in danger. I don’t know, just something he said.”

“What was it?”

“He-” Steve sighed, curling himself up as much as he could, leaning against Robin who put an arm around him. “He asked if I would be worried. And that was kind of all he asked, he didn’t elaborate but it sounded like he was asking would I be worried if he went missing or got hurt or something.” He pressed his forehead into her neck. “I haven’t heard from him since.”

“Is that unusual? It's only been a few days.”

“No, but it feels different this time.”

Robin nodded. “And no one else knows? Hopper or-”

“Hopper knows.” He muttered, tensing and feeling her whip her head around to try to look at him, her hair catching him in the eye.

“Ow.”

“Hopper- Evie, do you really think that’s a good idea? He could… He could strap him down for interrogation or hide him away at the other end of the world under lock and key so he doesn’t-”

“He won’t.” Steve said, his voice firm and sure.

“You can’t know that-”

“I do know that. Because I won’t let him.”

Robin’s arm stopped its up and down soothing motion over his bicep.

“You really mean that, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I do.”

She cursed under her breath, flicking him in the forehead. “Fuck, okay. I guess we’re doing this then. This fucking guy better be worth it.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Yes I do, Steven.” She sighed, squeezing him tighter. “You think if this all goes tits up and you have to go against The Agency, I’m gonna let you flounder around on your own? You’d be fucking lost without me.”

“I would. I’d be so lost, Bobbin.”

“So what did this Kas guy say when you asked him to run away with you.”

It was Steve’s turn to freeze now.

“Uh…”

“Oh my god, Evie. You haven’t even asked him?”

“I did! Kind of… I-”

“He said no?”

“Not in so many words. He refused… but he said ‘I can’t’.”

“That’s not straw clutchy at all.”

“Let me clutch my straws in peace.”

“Fine, fine. Are you gonna continue to do that here or at home? You need your space to think?”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Yeah. I need to figure out how to… I don’t know. Convince him to exit the employment of one of the most dangerous men in the world.”

“Want me to come with you? We could continue to drink about it?”

Steve gave her a little chuckle. “No, not that’s okay. I need to brainstorm some crazy scenarios and have you talk me down from them and I can’t do that if you’re there when I’m coming up with them.”

“Ah.” She nodded. “The old Scoops Ahoy way.”

“Yeah.”

Robin pushed herself to her feet and continued to hold onto his hand as he sidled out of the booth and they made their way out of the bar.

Just before they parted ways, Robin pulled him into a tight hug, squeezing him as fiercely as she could.

“You know I’m with you no matter what, right? No matter what happens. If you cause an international incident… again or-”

“Almost caused an international incident.”

“Sure, sure whatever.” She waved her hand dismissively in front of her. “But like… no matter what I’m in your corner.”

“I know, Rob. I know. I’m with you too.”

He pressed a quick kiss against her forehead and when they’d finally said their goodbyes, he headed home, his mind swirling with thoughts on what the fuck he was going to do about the whole situation.

How he would even find Eddie again to be able to convince him to leave.

Could he? Could he convince him?

What was even holding him down to Creel’s service at this stage?

The whole way back to his apartment, and into the elevator, he was thinking about it, staring off into space.

It was only when something started to niggle in the back of his mind to look around, he saw it.

Hidden in the groove on the button to his floor was a smudge of blood.

It was so small, barely visible, practically invisible to everyone else but not to him.

Okay.

Hopefully someone had just gotten a nosebleed or something and the cleaners hadn’t come through yet.

What were the chances he would be so lucky?

Pretty fucking low.

He had a weapon or two concealed on his person. He almost always did unless he was sleeping or showering, so he dropped into a crouch, pulling one of his smaller guns from his ankle holster.

Most of the field agents didn’t carry one. The men didn’t anyway. Because apparently having a small gun was an affront to their masculinity.

Like a bullet ripping through the air gave a fuck about how dainty the gun it came from was.

When he straightened back up, he pulled his small dagger from his belt, mostly handle with a little triangle of sharpened metal at the end but it would take less than that to sever a carotid.

Bracing his dagger hand under his gun, he kept the barrel pointed towards the ground as the elevator doors opened upon a blissfully empty hallway.

There were no more hints that anything was wrong.

No more blood, no bullet holes in the walls, no mud streaked footprints on the carpet, nothing out of place.

That didn’t stop his heartbeat slowly climbing as he approached his apartment door.

He’d have loved to hover for a few moments, listening in to see if he could hear anything but of course the thing was soundproofed.

Well, there was nothing left for it, he had to go in.

He’d been stuck in a safehouse for long enough before, he’d be damned if he put himself back in one willingly.

Plus, it’s not like he knew someone was in his apartment.

It could be nothing after all.

Yeah, right.

All doubts left his mind when he lowered his hand to unlock his front door, palming his dagger and tightening his fingers around his door handle to activate the unlocking mechanism through his biometric security.

But only one lock clicked open.

Just one sound.

Not the multiple quiet whirrs and clicks that should be audible.

Which meant someone else had opened his door while he was out.

So someone was inside.

Or had been inside and since left.

“Fuck.” Steve cursed to himself under his breath.

He fucking hated sweeping his apartment for bombs or poisons spread onto surfaces.

It was so fucking tedious.

He just wanted to collapse on his couch and continue to drink his problems away, at least for a little bit.

Well no chance of that now.

Steve let go of the handle, allowing the door to swing open and gripping his dagger again under his gun, wrists locked across one another as he pointed the barrel around every corner before stepping through.

Immediately his eyes zoned in on the difference.

His lovingly reupholstered couch had an unmoving and silent shadow of a body spilled over the cushions.

Almost as if they could be asleep.

He couldn’t tell who it was in the darkness.

Panic gripped him, crawling up his throat as he went through the mental checklist of who it could be, who could have been left there as a message to him, a warning to stop pursuing.

Could it be any of the kids, any of his fellow agents?

Robin?

But he’d only just seen her, they wouldn’t have had time, right?

Plus, they used code names. Anyone who had overheard them talking would only know her as Birdie and outside of work they just looked like any two friends?

How could they know she was his guy in the chair?

They couldn't, right?

He’d only just seen her, it couldn’t be her?

Steve was just about to take another step forward to get a better look when the shadow moved.

A pained, wheezing voice called out to him.

“Hello, sweetheart.”

Part 1 Part 9 AO3

Schedule Update Post

Divider by firefly-graphics

@geekymagicalpotato @estrellami-1

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for the magnificent beta work and to the STWG for their motivation

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #penny00dreadful #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #fanfic #pennys anniversary event #spies au #spy steve harrington #robin buckley #guy in the chair robin #cat and mouse spy fic #assassin eddie

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bitterbutblue · 1 month

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i hope you get everything you want and i hope i never hear about it

heres a little something.. u can find the full thing on my ao3 <3

tldr: zhu yuan confessed her love to qingyi.. boy it did not go well and qingyi regrets it all

Zhu Yuan finds herself wandering aimlessly down the streets after work now, her eyes unfocused on a point in front of her. She was wandering home, but the idea of going home and being alone also hurt too much. So she finds herself, walking, walking walking…

“Zhu Yuan.”

The quiet voice behind her causes her to freeze, her heart lurching at the familiar voice. God knows she doesn’t even need to turn around to recognise who it is.

Qingyi.

She feels her throat go dry as she grips tightly at her bag. She doesn’t turn around, her entire body frozen in a state of shock, tensed up and scared, waiting.

“Good evening.”

Zhu Yuan doesn’t turn around, she continues to stare at that spot ahead of her as her heart races.

“Good evening.” She responds quietly, hating herself for the way her voice cracks

“It’s been quite a while.” Qingyi’s voice… it’s different. It isn’t emotionless, more like trying to appear emotionless. And Zhu Yuan catches onto that small difference, and it hurts like hell. She takes a deep breath in, calming her nerves before she finally turns around to face Qingyi, who stands there. She looks the same, nothing has changed because nothing can change for her. Zhu Yuan is sure she looks like a mess but Qingyi looks perfect. But her eyes. Her eyes were green and her eyes showed so much Zhu Yuan felt like she was drowning. Pain, hope, longing, regret.

“You look unwell.” Qingyi says stiffly, the light on her neck betraying her emotionless facade as it flashes yellow- a sign of worry.

That simple sign of worry had Zhu Yuan biting back tears already. She was prepared for the emotionless, dispassionate voice she had forced herself to know. Not this. Not the worry and the emotions.

This hurts.

“I’m fine.” She replies reflexively

“If you say so.” Qingyi says quietly, hanging her head slightly.

Zhu Yuan can’t stop herself from studying every little detail on Qingyi’s face, from the way her eyebrows furrowed to the slight frown on her lips. She wants to know what Qingyi is thinking, what she’s feeling. Her heart just aches at the sight now because Qingyi has never felt so… small.

“Why are you here, Qingyi?”

She can’t stop herself from breaking the silence, the question had been bothering her since she heard her voice echo from behind her. Qingyi stays silent, as if contemplating her answer as her eyes flash with different emotions- too many to be faked.

“Do you.. remember the night you confessed?”

Qingyi’s voice wavers slightly and Zhu Yuan’s heart just sinks. Of course she fucking remembers, she remembers that night like it’s yesterday and it replays every night in her dreams and right before she sleeps. No matter how hard she tries to ignore it, it always comes back and bites at her at the slightest provocation.

She just nods.

“I remember.” she says quietly

“I would like to apolgoise.” Qingyi looks down “I was… overwhelmed. I wanted to carry out my job, and I didn’t want my emotions getting in the way. So I thought the best outcome would be if I just… shut myself off and turn my emotions off until I left. The idea of processing how I felt for you and ruining the precinct scared me.”

Zhu Yuan listens with a thumping heart, barely able to process as she feels the tears threaten to come back.

“Why did you… come to me now?” She asks, her own voice cracking

“I didn’t know how to approach you.” Qingyi says quietly “I knew I hurt you, and I know you’re still hurt and upset. But I can’t… end things like that.”

Zhu Yuan can’t help the pang of hope that hits her at Qingyi’s words. The remorse is evident, the guilt that eats Qingyi up is something Zhu Yuan never expected to hear but she’s dreamt of it. And each time she thinks about it she never thought how much it would hurt for herself to listen to those words. She looks at Qingyi, her eyes still searching at the android’s face. It’s stiff, unreadable, but a hint of vulnerability cracks through her tough facade. Zhu Yuan steps a tentative step closer to Qingyi, looking closely at the small girl as her heart begins to falter.

“You hurt me.” She whispers “You pushed me away, locked yourself away. It was like… you didn’t care. And I didn’t matter.”

Qingyi blinks as if she’s trying to push down surfacing emotions, but her eyes speaks the truth- the guilt and pain she’s been trying to hide showing itself openly.

“I apologise, Zhu Yuan.” Her voice cracks when she says Zhu Yuan’s name, so she clears her throat “I wanted to look out for you.”

Zhu Yuan scoffs, trying to ignore the ache in her heart when she hears Qingyi’s voice begin to waver.

“And that meant shutting me out?”

“I had to focus.” Qingyi’s facade cracks now, despite her attempts to speak firmly “I couldn’t let myself ruin things.”

Zhu Yuan feels her own anger rising despite it all. Qingyi was always so damn stubborn and this was no exception. All she wants is for Qingyi to acknowledge how that choice would’ve hurt her and was it really that fucking hard? She clenches her fists at her sides, trying to take deep breaths to calm herself but to no avail.

“And what about me?” She snaps “Did you ever fucking think about how it would make me feel? How your actions fucking hurt?”

Qingyi just swallows as her eyes widened. And for the first time, her eyes begin to well up with tears.

“I-..”

Qingyi opens and closes her mouth, unable to speak.

“I do.. apologise..” She tries to maintain her cold facade, but it fails. Tears begin to fall down her face and she lets out a small gasp- moving her hand up in a state of shock to feel the tears that begin rolling down her cheeks.

Zhu Yuan’s heart nearly stops at the sight of the tears falling, and she never realised how much it would hurt to watch Qingyi cry because that thought has never even crossed her mind. But seeing her now, so vulnerable, so open, has her own thoughts stuttering. She feels a wave of conflicting emotions because a part of her wants to wipe her tears away and tell her it’s okay but another part of her is so sick of being hurt and used- and selfishly wants Qingyi to feel even just a quarter of the pain she felt. Zhu Yuan just stands silently as Qingyi continues to process her own emotions, desperately trying to hold in her sobs but it’s taking over her. She finally speaks up.

“I am not… human, Zhu Yuan.” she croaks out “I can’t- I can’t feel emotions.”

Zhu Yuan swallows at her words, looking away. She felt like drowning, everything right now was too much. She fucking knows Qingyi is a machine, and that’s how this all happened in the first place. What could she even say next, to try to alleviate the pain for both of them? With difficulty, Zhu Yuan manages to speak, her voice raw and strained.

“I know you’re not human, Qingyi. I can never forget that.”

Qingyi sobs for the first time, and she tries to hold it back but she sobs. She turns around, hiding herself from Zhu Yuan as her shoulders quaked- the sounds of her sobs echoing down the empty streets. Zhu Yuan’s heart wrenches at the sight, she has never seen Qingyi in a state like this and she’s at a complete loss. Of all the scenarios she’s created in her mind of what she would do if she ever saw Qingyi again, this was not one of them. The drastic difference between the guarded, cold and emotionless Qingyi and this- she didn’t expect it to hurt.

“You’ll only hurt yourself more if you stay.” Qingyi sobs out “I’ve ran all the possibilities, I’m not human, Zhu Yuan. You- you mustn’t stay…”

Zhu Yuan just stares, she just stares as the pain in her chest begins to eat her alive, gnawing at each of her bones and chewing up her heart. Their differences had always been the main conflict but to hear it now, to hear that the gap between them could never be bridged… maybe dying hurts less.

“I can turn my emotions off at will.” Qingyi finally turns around to face Zhu Yuan again, her face red from crying and eyes filled with a tornado of emotions that only a human could express “You can’t. You need to let go of me, and I’ll let go of you. Please. Knowing that you love me in pain hurts me… knowing that it would never work.”

Zhu Yuan feels as if her heart has been squeezed in a vice, hearing this is more painful than she’s ever imagined and she feels like collapsing but she stays. She knew this moment would come, she prayed and begged to whoever was above that it wouldn’t come but it comes- she wants to hold onto the idea of maybe having what she use to have with Qingyi again but now she can only stare reality in the face.

Her voice is ragged as she speaks.

“I know. I know it won’t work. But I can’t just.. turn it off.”

“Then fucking forget about me!” Qingyi cries, trying to stifle her sobs “Please. I want you to be happy, Zhu Yuan. That’s all I want. Fuck, you were never a job- you were everything and it hurts knowing I can’t give you what you deserve because I’m not human.”

Zhu Yuan’s heart is slowly being ripped out of her chest, sharp claws digging into her flesh and through each muscle fibre. Hearing Qingyi plead like this only hurts more, more than ever and each word is just another smash of the hammer to her already shattered heart.

“I can’t… just forget about you, Qingyi. I wish I could, but I can’t.” She tries to keep her voice from trembling “I love you.”

“Don’t.” Qingyi chokes out “Don’t say that.”

Zhu Yuan can’t breathe now and she’s drowning in their own sea of emotions that they’ve built. The way fate has played their cards has Zhu Yuan wanting to scream at the sky and to curse at whoever put her here.

“Why? Why shouldn’t I say I love you?”

“Because I can’t say it back!” Qingyi cries. Qingyi hangs her head, a hand moving up to cover her mouth as she sobs. She sobs, her entire body shaking for minutes until she finally composes herself and Zhu Yuan couldn’t bring herself to even touch Qingyi during those moments. “I.. I can’t say it back in the way you want me to. I’m not human. I’ll only hurt you.”

“It’s not fucking about saying it back- it’s about feeling it..” Zhu Yuan whispers as she blinks back her own tears “I know you’re an android. I know you can’t say it in the same way I want. But can’t you feel something? Anything? Can’t you feel any connection at all? Can’t you see how important you are to me? How much I care about you?”

“But everything I feel for you is artificial, Zhu Yuan.”

Those words have her feeling like crumbling onto the ground.

“I’m lines of codes and pieces of plastic. Please. It’ll only hurt you more if you don’t realise it.”

Zhu Yuan feels like she’s falling through this endless abyss, her world is spiralling and Qingyi’s words are the final bullet in a loaded gun. The truth- the truth hurts, it always does. To have to face reality, to know that you’ve fallen in love with something that has admitted it would never love you back… it’s devastating. What could she even say? Could she even argue?

“So.. what you’re saying is there’s no hope. Nothing. Because you’re an android everything you fucking feel is not real? Is that it?”

Her own voice is bitter, shadowing the anger and sadness that stirs beneath.

“Is that what you’re saying, Qingyi?”

Qingyi hesitates, her jaw tightening as she considers her next words carefully.

“No matter what…” she says hoarsely “It’ll never be real.”

And the bullet was fired.

Something in her is breaking at last, the bridge that has been desperately trying to hold her together finally snaps and she can feel her own tears falling but she needs to end this.

“You’re saying that even if I love you. Even if I cared about you so much I feel like dying, it’s pointless. Because there’s nothing real on your end.”

Qingyi juts nods numbly, staring at her feet.

Zhu Yuan can only listen to her own thoughts roar, but they’re so quiet at the same time because all she can focus on is that pain in her chest. Qingyi’s words are raw, painful, and they cut through her like a knife. The silence is loud, only filled by occasional sobs and sniffles. Zhu Yuan manages to speak- her own voice is low, barely above a whisper.

“So.. what now?”

Qingyi takes a deep breath in

“It would-” she chokes out the next words as if she tries to not let her voice waver from the sobs that threaten to spill “It would be best for you to move on. We must cut connections completely. I will.. I will leave this city. We will never see each other again.”

At this point, Qingyi could’ve stabbed her over and over again with a dull blade and it would’ve hurt less. Zhu Yuan knew it would come down to this, god she knew, but she didn’t expect how harsh reality could be. How much worse it is than in her mind. She struggles with her thoughts, her heart is screaming at her to stay, to beg Qingyi to at least try but she’s tired. She’s exhausted from months of heartbreak. But she knows she’s reached her limit- if she continues to cling onto this hope, she’lll go insane. This hope.. it had always been an illusion, a painful illusion and nothing more.

“I- I understand.” Zhu Yuan says quietly, her own voice shaky “Let’s.. let’s end things now.”

Qingyi nods, her shoulders relaxing slightly as the tears continue to fall down her face.

“Thank you.. for everything.” She offers Zhu Yuan a smile- a genuine, loving smile that speaks more words than Zhu Yuan could’ve ever imagined, before she turns around so that her back faces Zhu Yuan “Goodbye, Zhu Yuan.”

The smile hurts. The smile that should comfort her hurts more than she could ever imagine a smile hurting. How can a smile hurt? What was supposed to communicate joy and happiness now used as a weapon of pain against her. She wants to reach out, she wants to hold onto Qingyi one last time, to hug her close and to feel her synthetic heart beat against her own. Instead…

“Goodbye, Qingyi.”

The light on her neck is off- colourless.

The world comes to a halt in that moment, and it may never resume again.

#zzz #zzzero #zenless zone zero #qingyi #zhu yuan #qingyi x zhu yuan #zzzero fic #zenless zone zero fic #zzz angst #god i cant do this my chinese coworkers yuri save me chinese coworkers yuri

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luminouslywriting · 4 months

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Chapter 13 (Mastermind)—MOTA Fic

A/N: Admittedly, this one was a lot of fun! I had a great lake day yesterday but that also means I'm behind on writing and answering requests haha! They're still open though, so feel free to keep sending me stuff! I'm going to try and catch up today, if I can! As always, let me know what you think and enjoy!

Ruth’s hands didn’t stop shaking after they left her office. They didn’t stop shaking when she dug through her bag looking for a cigarette and a lighter. They didn’t stop as she lit the thing—though her hands were rattling as though she was part of some jazz quartet or something. They didn’t stop shaking as she inhaled the smoke in a rapid breath, unable to get ahold of herself.

For a moment, it was all she could do to just sit there in her office and stare at the paperwork she was supposed to be doing. All thoughts of work had melted away into worries that were building and compounding about Abe.

Any appetite that she had worked up was long gone and she would take the promise of an empty stomach and a cigarette over having to socialize in the mess hall. What the actual hell had Abe been thinking? He was just a little boy. A little Jewish boy who, if caught, would surely be found out that he had lied on his forms and he would be killed or worse. Ruth couldn’t even take the thought.

There was a pull in her stomach that seemed to knot itself up tightly. She wanted to throw up, wanted to scream and punch the wall, wanted to make all of this just go away. But she did not have the power for that.

And so for the first time in a long time, Ruth Sharpe let a small whimper slip from her lips and she couldn’t help the fact that the tears came spilling out of her eyes. Like a dam overflowing, Ruth was simply overwhelmed. She wasn’t one to cry easily, wasn’t one to get emotional. But she had failed in her most simple of all jobs—being a sister.

Maybe if she had stayed in the United States, she would have been able to stop Abe from running away and trying to join the military. Maybe she could have protected him a lot better than any efforts she could give at the current moment. Ruth Sharpe, shark lawyer, JAG-Corp member, felt totally helpless. And it wasn’t a feeling she liked.

So Ruth let herself blubber for a solid five minutes. She let the tears spill from her eyes, she let the emotions run rampant and all of the ‘what ifs’ swirl around in her mind. And when she glanced over at the clock, almost exactly at five minutes from when she began her emotional breakdown, Ruth straightened up her back.

She dabbed at her makeup and at the tear-tracks. And then she got back to work. Because what else was she supposed to do?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Although Glenn Dye’s party was in full swing, Ruth had little patience for the entire thing. It was great for that particular captain that he got to go home and that 25 missions could, in fact, be done. But for everyone else, Ruth didn’t really see a point in celebrating. After all, there was another mission to be run in the morning.

Staying out late and celebrating the new arrivals and Glenn Dye didn’t seem like the best use of time, in her opinion. And her sour mood wasn’t helped by the fact that Helen and Tatty absolutely insisted that she let loose and came to the party.

Ruth had never particularly cared for parties, even her own. Her mother had always thrown the best birthday parties and holiday parties—but Ruth would rather be in a corner with a book or in a good conversation than in a room full of people. And that was thus evidenced by Ruth’s lack of enthusiasm at the current party.

In the midst of her grumbling and occasionally sipping at a gin, someone came running up to her, tugging on her arm. Ruth wasn’t even surprised to find Abe, grinning as he encouraged her to come and meet his friends.

“Aren’t you—embarrassed or something?” Ruth demanded in slight annoyance.

“Embarrassed? Why would I be embarrassed?” Abe asked, giving her a strange look. “You’re JAG-Corp AND you outrank them. I get to brag!”

As Abe brought her to a stop in front of the new recruits—a few of whom she vaguely recognized from the inspections done earlier that day—there was a slight look of fear that gave rise to pride in her chest. “Uh, Abe—” One of them started nervously.

“This is my sister! Ruth!” Abe exclaimed proudly, a wide grin on his face.

Ruth didn’t even blink as her gaze turned onto the men curiously. “The uh—the scary—” One of them started, earning an elbow to the ribs and a wince. “The lawyer lady is your sister?”

“I can see you’re just as charmed to meet me as I am to meet you,” Ruth retorted in a steel tone. “Your names, soldiers?”

“Ruthie—” Abe started in a slight warning tone.

“Nash,” The one in the middle piped up.

“Speitz.”

“Pappy.”

“Is it true that you grew up down the hall from Rosenthal?” Nash questioned, gaze flickering between the two siblings.

A tight smile found its way onto Ruth’s features. “Guilty as charged, I’m afraid. Why? Are you looking for blackmail?”

“Be nice, please,” Abe mumbled.

“Oh look, here’s Twinkle-Toes now. Just like Senior Prom,” Ruth said, letting out a sigh at the sight of Robert Rosenthal dancing his way over to the group. He continued his moves right up until he nearly bumped into Ruth, a panicked expression crossing his features quickly.

“Uh, I didn’t see—”

“You? Not paying attention? I’m shocked,” Ruth said dryly.

“I’m sorry, you said prom?” Pappy questioned, leaning forward.

Both Ruth and Rosie gave each other a withering gaze. “Oh yeah!” Abe exclaimed, cutting them off before either could speak. “They went to prom together since their dates both had the flu!”

“Anyways,” Rosie expressed in a louder tone. “What have I missed?”

“Well I’m eying broads and Pappy here’s trying to dour the mood,” Nash said, gesturing at his friend. “So in other words, nothing.”

“Sour,” Rosie and Ruth said at the same time—immediately giving each other an incredulous look of annoyance.

“What?”

“The word, it’s sour,” Rosie corrected. “Sour the mood is what you mean.”

“No, no,” Pappy insisted. “All I said is that it’s not a good sign for us. One crew making it merits a blowout bash?”

“I’m gonna grab a drink—” Abe started.

“You are not 21,” Ruth hissed, gaze withering onto her brother.

Rosie gave a grin as Abe frowned. “For you, Ruthie!” Abe exclaimed, hurrying off.

“That kid is such a menace,” Ruth murmured, shaking her head as Abe dipped off to the bar. “Drink for me—yeah, he’ll take a sip out of it.”

Nash didn’t respond and everyone followed his line of vision. “Oh don’t bother them—”

Ruth glanced over—following the line of sight onto Helen and Tatty. She nearly snorted, amusement spilling onto her features. “Good luck with that.”

Before Nash could so much as ask what she meant by that particular comment, Abe returned. This time, he was accompanied by Major Egan and Major Cleven and Ruth felt as though everything in the universe were aligning to try and take her out today.

“Ruthie!” Bucky exclaimed in a peppy tone. “Baby Shark here was just telling me that you’re his sister!”

“Oh good God,” Ruth pinched the bridge of her nose as Abe looked smug, snugly standing between the two Majors as if he had picked out two sixth graders to protect him from bullies on the playground.

“Baby Shark?” Abe questioned, glancing over in their direction.

Bucky just flashed an award-winning smile. “You know,” he said, gesturing at Ruth with his head. “Because she’s a shark.”

“Gentlemen,” Major Cleven cut in, shooting Bucky a warning glance. The last thing that they needed when they were trying to meet the new pilots was to anger Lieutenant Sharpe and start a ruthless verbal battle.

Ruth plucked the drink out of Abe’s hand and made her getaway before anyone could stop her. Her head felt like it was pounding and honestly? The last thing she needed was to put up with Abe, Robby Rosenthal, and Bucky Egan in one sitting. That was too much for her sensibilities and she didn’t have the patience for that at the moment.

Returning to the bar, Ruth found Jack Kidd sipping on a drink and she let out a deep sigh. “Push me down the stairs of the tower next time we’re up there?” Ruth questioned, gaze locking onto him.

Kidd, to his credit, choked on the drink, eyes going wide. “That’s uh—that’s an extreme reaction.”

“See the shrimpy kid over there in between Cleven and Egan?”

“Well yeah. What about him?”

“That’s my brother. And the new guy with the worm on his face and far too much hair gel is his favorite neighbor and my rival from school.”

Kidd blinked at the scene up ahead, shaking his head. “That’s awful luck, Ruth.”

“Don’t I know it,” Ruth exhaled, taking a sip of her gin. “If I have to put up with those two and Egan, I think I might just….court martial everyone on this damn base.”

“Duly noted,” Kidd retorted. “You didn’t know your brother was coming?” He added, curiosity brimming in his features.

“Not really, no. And I wouldn’t expect him to end up on the same base as me either. God must have a really good sense of humor when it comes to me,” Ruth said lightly. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll rub off on you and you’ll start having this sorta luck too.”

“Don’t you dare!” Kidd exclaimed. “I’m tired enough of Egan’s bullshit and the rest of what we’ve got going on to have that sorta luck.”

“Relax, I won’t start prayin’ for that,” Ruth insisted, a small grin on her features. “Any way we can get my brother in Rosenthal’s plane?”

“Why?”

“Kid brother, I tend to worry. At least with Rosenthal, he’ll be with someone I’ve known most of my life.”

Kidd gave a nod. “Shouldn’t be too much of a problem. I’ll get him transferred there before tomorrow’s mission.”

“Thanks, Kidd.”

Before he could reply to that or ask any further questions, a slightly tipsy Harding had made his appearance, calling out for his boys. And unfortunately for Tatty and Ruth, they knew that they were included in that same line-up—after all, Harding communicated with the Red Cross as much as he did with the Majors.

“My boys! Listen up! I just had a mood-killing conversation with Doc Stover, and he thinks you sissies could be getting flak-happy.” There were groans of disagreement from the men and Harding gave a firm nod. “I told him war is war, and the longer you go at it, the more it screws a man up. And it’s been that way since the first caveman son of a bitch picked up a club and went after the other.”

“Cain and Abel, you mean,” Ruth mumbled, earning herself an elbow from Kidd—though she wasn’t necessarily wrong.

“Did cavemen go for head-shrinking?” Harding questioned. “Damn sure not. What counts is that you soldiers show up ready and able to fight. What you do between battles…” Harding trailed off and Ruth couldn’t help the fact that her jaw dropped at the insinuation of fraternization being alright.

“I like your style, sir!” Bucky exclaimed.

“Oh you’ve gotta be shitting me,” Ruth hissed out.

“Aerial combat like this hasn’t been around since the cavemen, sir,” Red piped up.

“Well of course not, Red. Every war has its novelties,” Harding turned, eyes catching onto the decorations. He soured, a frown painting onto his features. “Who the hell decorated for this fiesta?”

“Well I put together a committee, sir,” Crosby mumbled.

“The damn plane looks like it’s in a nosedive!” Harding exclaimed. He mumbled some more before ushering the group closer together. “You know how we could end this whole thing tonight? We fill up one of our first with as many 500 pounders as she can hold and we bomb the hell out of Hitler’s hidey hole. I’m sure that Red and Bubbles could locate that mustached little fu—”

“That’s against the rules of conduct,” Ruth’s voice cut cleanly through the crowd, effectively silencing Harding and sending chills down the spines of several of the men. “And quite frankly stupid. After all, we’re aiming to kill the soldiers, not the innocent kids and families of Germany.”

Harding blinked as Ruth approached him, almost having to take a step back to process the fact that she was in front of him. “War is war, sweetheart.”

“Oh shit,” Kidd breathed out.

Before Ruth could so much as verbally end this entire thing with Harding, Bucky had taken it upon himself to speak up. “Well now who’s flak-happy?” Bucky piped up.

Both Ruth and Harding’s glares set on Bucky at the same time. “Who?” Harding questioned.

“I believe you’ve had enough to drink for the night, sir. There’s a mission early in the morning and I doubt you want the men flying into combat without your instructions,” Ruth said in a steel tone.

“But—”

“Red, please escort him back to his cabin. Egan—” Ruth turned, gaze falling on him. “A word?”

Bucky let out a slight grumble, following Ruth a short distance away from the crowd of men who were now talking. “What?” He questioned.

“Cleven talked to me earlier. And now I’m seeing what he means. I’ll ensure you get a weekend pass for tomorrow. I can handle Harding for the weekend. You need a break.”

The foul stench of alcohol stung the air in front of her as Bucky let out a snarled breath of annoyance. “I don’t need jack-shit from you. What do you know—”

Ruth’s hand sharply cut through the air, slapping against his face. Everyone had heard it and wisely chose to avoid eye contact with the fuming Major at the moment. “That was me holding back and being polite—your men need you at your best. This? This is not your best. Take a break, re-center, relax….whatever the hell you need to do to get your head back in the game. Then you come back and you lead your men through it. Understood?” Ruth demanded, crossing her arms.

“I don’t suppose it’s up for negotiation?”

“Not a chance, flyboy. Now get going.”

“Okay…..Mama Shark.”

She made a slight movement and he dashed away. Ruth just pinched the bridge of her nose. She had a sinking feeling that tomorrow was going to be an utter shitshow.

But there was nothing to be done about that now.

#mota fanfic #mota #masters of the air fanfic #mastersoftheair #masters of the air #oc originalfemalecharacters #rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal x oc #robert rosenthal x oc #original female character

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