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lqfiles · 4 months

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PAY THE PRICE — 11. a late welcome party

(wc: 1.535)

despite the many unfamiliar faces surrounding the table you were sat at, it was surprisingly loud and chattery. with jaemin sat beside you, you eyed your apartment-mates with a shy, yet also intrigued look while you waited for everyone to settle. “is everyone here?” jaemin asked after the chatter had died down and all eyes landed on him. with the confirmation of everyone’s presence, jaemin stood up and clasped his hands together with a wide smile plastered on his face.

“for those of you who haven’t formally met (—) over here” jaemin’s arm had reached down to pat your shoulder as he spoke. “please greet her nicely. she is so amazing, one of my best friends and i hope all of you can treat her well! and also.. what else.. yeah i think that’s it, just introduce yourself one more time please.” jaemin blabbered on, taking a seat again after he finished introducing you.

it was quite embarrassing, as the rest of the restaurant was eyeing your table with curiosity or a hidden annoyance at the unnecessarily loud way jaemin was talking in. you shied away and looked at your lap in embarrassment.

jaemin was unapologetically embarrassing, but you can’t say that you didn’t love him for it.

“order whatever your guys want, me and doyoung are paying!” jaemin announced before he walked off, leaving the guy you assumed was doyoung with a perplexed expression, standing up to follow jaemin. “huh? what are you talking about! you said it was just you who was going to pay!” were the last words you heard before both disappeared into the distance.

a few seconds of silence had passed and you wondered if you should’ve been the one to break it. luckily for you, the girl on the far left beat you to it. “hello (—), it’s nice to finally meet you face to face.” she started. “i’m haewon.” she added after a few more seconds and her smile was kind as she sent you a small wave from across the table. a wave you reciprocated quickly.

your eyes had slowly drifted to the person who sat beside her, occupied with adjusting his jacket behind his chair and fishing out his phone. “have i.. met you before?” were the first words you muttered that night, unintentionally catching the attention of the rest of the table. the question was left unanswered for a moment until the boy had looked up from his phone. “me?” he pointed towards himself in question, confusion painted on his face.

you weren’t expecting him to hear you, eyes widening for a second before you hesitantly nodded. you watched as his own eyebrows furrowed for a moment and he slightly titled his head in the process. “have we?” he asked you back. you hummed, attempting to remember why his face seemed so familiar.

“didn’t you give me free cookies on my first day here?”

“oh.” he deadpanned, eyebrows relaxing as the realisation hit him too. “yeah.. i guess.” he scratched the back of his neck, almost unsure of his own answer. “yeah, you were the one who gave me those cookies, the boyscout cookies boy or something, right?”

“well.. not exactly..” he started before shaking his head. “sure.” he responded back instead, sending you a tight-lipped smile. it probably wasn’t a genuine smile, but you didn’t want to look to deep into it.

“and i’m isa, remember?” the girl that sat next to him interrupted. she had a warm smile present on her face, sending you an excited wave. you couldn’t help but return it, remembering how you had previously run into her.

by the time jaemin and doyoung had returned, everyone had managed to introduce themselves and chatter started once again. turning your head to your left, you noticed jaemin’s spaced out look, wondering what was on his mind. “what’s up?” you voiced. jaemin snapped out of his thoughts, turning to look back at you.

“well, uh.. i invited haechan and he said he would come.. did he come yet?” jaemin admitted with a hesitant smile. hesitant for a reason as he watched your expression drop immediately. “you what?” you asked, almost sure you misheard him. “why would you do that? he didn’t even want to come anyways!” you complained, almost grabbing jaemin by the collar for inviting the one person whom you’ve seemed to have nothing but bad experiences with.

“i didn’t want to leave him out okay! i thought that maybe you guys just started on bad terms and a little gathering with everyone could change that..” jaemin reasoned, backing away from you and your evident frustration. “he can’t be that bad, (—).”

“yeah, i can’t be that bad.” the both of you heard from behind, and you jolted in your seat, swiftly turning to look back and seeing haechan stood a meter away. speaking of the devil himself.

“fucking hell.” you groaned, turning to look back at jaemin who apologetically smiled at you. he mouthed a small apology that went unnoticed as you instead watched haechan sit in the only seat left on the table that coincidentally was right across from you, a grin on his face that you could only describe as devious.

he cant be that bad, you repeated in your head while locking eyes with haechan who took of his coat and leaned back into the chair. you were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt once more, maybe you did indeed start off bad and could fix whatever issues you two had at this dinner.

except that didn’t happen, and he was indeed as bad as you knew him as. in fact, he was probably much more annoying now that you were sat near him for up to 50 minutes. with continues back talking, small comments here and there, or him just straight up ignoring your attempts at talking to him, you came to the conclusion that he genuinely was just an asshole, and the wall between your rooms wasn’t the issue.

fuck an apology, jaemin would have to physically kiss your feet for the next few days for this stunt he pulled.

you were glad at his lack of talking as you all were nearing the end of your meals. it gave you time to truly appreciate the welcoming atmosphere the rest had brought as they shared stories about the apartment and told you more about themselves. haechan was much more interested in his phone, and you thanked the heavens for it as you relaxed, a smile growing on your face.

“can you engage in the conversation and put your phone away haechan?” perhaps jaemin was the devil instead with the way he managed to keep ruining this dinner.

the table turned silent, and haechan looked up from his phone, almost wondering if jaemin was talking about a different haechan. he wasn’t. haechan sighed before reluctantly putting his phone in his pocket, and crossing his arms. you wondered why he listened so easily to jaemin, taking note of how it didn’t take him much convincing.

“soooo… what is it like living next to haechan, (—)?” it seemed like kissing your feet wouldn’t be enough for jaemin to redeem himself. no, he’d have to make a public apology every single day at this point.

the table grew painfully silent and you groaned before you reluctantly answered. you were sure no one else was going to say anything, except for maybe jaemin. but you’re sure that whatever will come out of his mouth will do nothing but make this dinner worse.

“well, you know, it’s definitely an experience.” you answered shortly, refusing to look haechan’s way. the scoff was undoubtedly his though, and you could only imagine the expression of disbelief present on his face as you still refused to look at him. though, you did turn your head at the sound of a chair scraping the ground, and the figure across you standing up.

haechan took ahold of his coat and had put it on in a matter of seconds. “i think i’ve stayed here enough, i’m full. thank you for paying for my food jaemin, i’ll be going now.” he announced and shoved the chair back in, eyes locking with you one more time. you could’ve sworn that he raised his eyebrow at you, almost challenging you, but he was already gone by the time you had registered it.

everyone seemed to have simultaneously turned to jaemin, possibly all questioning the same thing. “i’m sorry, i just didn’t wanna leave him out. he’s normally nice, i swear! i didn’t think he was going to be difficult today..” jaemin apologised to you specifically, but you barely heard him.

you were tired, and you blamed haechan for it, regardless of whether it was his fault of not. he was undoubtedly a jerk, and you felt silly for giving him the benefit of the doubt once again. god was truly testing you by making him your neighbour.

“i’m gonna go too.” were the last words you said that night. you needed a distraction and on the way back home, you texted the only person you knew could help you with that.

previous — master list — next

notes ; sorry guys i had to lock in for a few days cos of college but we are BACK. not cool haechan 😑

TAGLIST ; @90s-belladonna @pnkified @2jisungs @swee7dream @sinisxtea @en-dream @h-aecat @lostinneocity @sunflowerbebe07 @pookime @aerivrs @alethea-moon @yeritos @prettyrenjunn @manooffline @bath1lda @hyejooistic @emvrd @dojaejunging @odxrilove @hyuckluvr-com @jaeims @ihyucksol @tddyhyck @dalsosapple @https-yeonjun @luvlyrenwoo @yoursyuno @lilacsxjoon @heymsperfectlyfine @mystverse @ne0c0r3 @casperbutnot-theghost @hyuckies18 @w3bqrl @ckline35 @nosungluv @luvvsnae @chcnlcs @cryingforgyu @thatgirlkay @222brainrot @aggtslva @n0hyuck @sinsgaybutthatsokay @choerubies @goldustupmysea @cyber-innie @hyunjungjae @blamemef0rit @lowkeychenle @lecheugo

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rafeysbafey · 1 year

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✮ MY SHIRT, YOUR SHIRT —RAFE CAMERON

SUMMARY. rafe notices you at a party and is there to take you home when you aren’t feeling well.

WARNINGS. soft(ish)!rafe, drinking, language, fluff

WORD COUNT. 1.5k

masterlist

you swayed your hips to the blasting music that seemed to consume your every thought, not being able to hear sarah as you only nodded absently when she spoke.

you could however understand her when she passed you a shot, a grin plastered on the girls face as she threw her head back.

you followed after, letting the strong liquid burn your throat before falling into sarah’s side—the two of you holding each other as giggles fell from your lips.

“topper!” you shouted, noticing the boy that had been eyeing sarah the entire night.

when she furrowed her eyebrows together, giving you a confused look, you took hold of her shoulders and spun her around.

she gave you a cheeky grin before pointing at him, raising her eyebrows in a questioning manner.

you quickly nodded before pushing her through the crowd, letting her approach the boy as they immediately started chatting.

you spun on your heel and made your way through the crowd, on the search for more drinks after feeling quite content with playing cupid.

a very drunk cupid, but it’s the thought that counted.

you quickly found yourself in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge as you hummed to yourself—mindlessly following the beat to the music that had faded to the background.

your eyes landed on an unopened seltzer can, taking it in your hands before slamming the fridge shut.

you were about to crack it open but froze when your vision clouded, black spots appearing in your line of sight.

your feet seemed to stumble over one another, your hands falling onto the counter as the drink rolled across the marble.

before you could balance yourself and go find sarah, you felt your body go limp and fall slump towards the ground.

bracing yourself to make contact with the floor beneath, you closed your eyes and waited for it to happen.

instead, you felt your body make contact with a stiff chest whose arms wrapped around your figure, not wasting time to drag you away.

‘just perfect’ you thought to yourself before you completely blacked out.

. . .

you woke up to the sun blanketing over your eyes, a groan falling from your lips as you pulled the covers over your body.

‘covers?’

your eyes shot open as you forced yourself to sit up, a whimper escaping your mouth at the jolt of pain that ran through your body.

your head felt like it was previously used as a bowling ball, eyes straining to be kept open as you let them observe your surroundings.

the room you sat in felt familiar, but not in a way you had hoped.

deciding you needed to leave, you tossed the covers off your body and swung your legs over the side.

before your feet had the chance to make contact with the floor, they fell on something more…human.

“fuck!” someone groaned, causing you to jolt up in surprise.

before you could have time to process what was happening, the person you wanted to see least had appeared from the floor.

rafe cameron.

you had been close friends with sarah for a while now, practically living at tannyhill with how much time you spent there.

so you were bound to run into her older brother—the big scary kook king everyone feared and or hated.

he was never particularly mean to you, he would just throw you looks or little witty comments whenever you would get in his way.

so you made it your goal to not cross him—although you did find him cute.

the boy was attractive, yes, but his reputation and attitude towards others was a big turn off for you.

or at least that’s what you kept reminding yourself.

“wha- what the fuck are you doing here?” you sputtered out, not realizing how harsh you had sounded.

the boy let out a dry chuckle as he pushed himself off the floor, your eyes landing on his bare torso.

his prominent abs were on full display, your eyes trailing down to his hips that were covered in grey sweats.

his happy trail disappeared beneath the fabric, causing you to gulp as you forced yourself to look back up.

‘fuck i was looking too long.’

“this is my room, darling” he spoke, voice raspy as a small smirk made its way to his lips.

your stomach couldn’t help but form butterflies, your throat now feeling dry as you tried to form words.

“can you just— just put on a shirt,” you spat, trying to mask your flustered tone with annoyance but failed to do so.

“can’t” he shrugged, only causing you to scoff as you finally forced yourself to stand.

you wobbled slightly, finding stability by holding onto the night stand—your head spinning as your eyes squeezed shut.

“and why is that?” you asked, finally turning towards rafe as your lips curled into a frown, eyebrows bunched together in annoyance.

“you’re wearing it, darling.”

your eyes went wide as your mouth dropped slightly, head finally titling down to view the fabric that covered your upper half.

it was in fact, his shirt.

“did you see me naked?!” were the first words that rushed out of your mouth, worry setting in at the thought of rafe cameron seeing you without clothes.

he let out a groan as he ran a hand over his face, rafe probably hungover as well now that you thought about it.

“you passed out at the party—don’t know if you remember but i was the one that saved your ass from hitting the ground,” he said causing you to squint your eyes.

unfortunately, you could not remember anything after your first shot last night.

“so i decided to take you home—let you sleep in sarah’s room,” he explained before waving his hand in the air, “but you’re obviously not in her room.”

you nodded slowly, allowing him to continue as he chewed on your bottom lip.

“you woke up briefly and threw up on yourself—well, on your dress,” he said causing your face to fall red.

“oh my god,” you mumbled, putting your head in your hands as you prayed this was all a dream.

“so i brought you to my room to get changed, i didn’t see much—just you in your bra and underwear,” he added, a soft blush appearing on his features but you didn’t see.

“but before i could take you back to her room, you knocked out on my bed.”

you finally found the courage to look up at him, making eye contact as you gulped in embarrassment.

“so you…you what? slept on the floor?”

he let out a laugh, causing you to frown as he spoke—“i mean, it is still my room.”

it felt like there was a pit of guilt in your stomach, now realizing he slept on the floor last night because of you.

“im sorry,” you mustered out, swallowing your courage as the boy furrowed his eyebrows.

“i could care less where i sleep, im just glad i was there to take you home instead of some creep.”

he was right—you let sarah leave you alone with strangers surrounding you, which now in your sober state, made you shudder.

unbeknownst to you though, rafe didn’t just so happen to be in the kitchen when you passed out.

he had actually been watching you the entire night, no matter how creepy it sounds—you were his little sisters friends, and sure he found you pretty.

okay, rafe had a small crush on you. although he would never admit it, he made it his goal to not let a single thing happen to you at the party.

“is uh, sarah back?” you mumbled, wanting to change the subject as quickly as possible.

“i heard her stumble in shortly after we got back, topper drove her home.”

you hummed quietly at this information, nodding before awkwardly scratching the back of your neck.

“ill just…just go.”

you moved to the door as quickly as possible, but before you could turn the knob, rafe cleared his throat.

‘oh god what now?’ you thought, turning around slowly to meet his gaze.

“yes?”

“my shirt,” he said, a small grin on his face as your eyes widened.

“oh shit—yea, shit,” you sputtered out, quickly going to pull the fabric over your head but froze when he let out a laugh.

“not right now!”

you yanked the shirt back down, face a dark red as you gulped once again, “i knew that.”

you opened the door and stumbled out as fast as possible, slamming it shut behind you before groaning lowly.

“that did not just happen,” you mumbled to yourself, running your hands over your face before making your way to sarah’s room.

a/n: the scene at the end was supposed to be a kissing booth reference lol lol lol lol

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks #rafefics #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe x y/n #rafe fanfiction #rafe fic #rafe imagine

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bitethedevil · 5 months

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Living with The Devil You Know (Raphael x Tav): Chapter 1

Chapter: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen

Read this fic on AO3 (Link)

Fic Summary: Tav broke their agreement by handing the Crown of Karsus to Mystra instead of Raphael. Not only that, but she also robbed his house and killed his incubus. Raphael is patient and he is determined to get his revenge.

…Tav isn't too bothered. She will figure something out eventually. Until then she just has to find a way to live peacefully with a devil.

Chapter Summary: Tav gets kidnapped and is surprisingly calm about her new predicament. She spends her first night in the devil’s bed. Raphael is a pain in the ass to share a bed with.

(AN: A pretty self-indulgent fic that I am working on. It is a lot more light-hearted than what I have previously written. The plot also gives me an opportunity to explore a more private and less performative Raphael. There will be more chapters.)

Warning: NSFW

It was a couple of weeks after the defeat of the elderbrain. Tav had been out drinking with a few of her companions. She had gotten very drunk and at some point during the evening she had gotten lost from the rest.

A handsome young tiefling man had approached her and bought her drinks. He had red skin, yellow glowing eyes, and a disarming smile.

They talked for a couple of hours. He claimed to be a wizard like her. She should have known something was up when he seemed to be very unknowledgeable about even simple spells, but what could she say? The man was charming, and the alcohol made it hard for her to care about him potentially lying just to get her into bed.

When they got to his place, she was half-way out of her clothes when something hit her head.

Everything went black.

When she woke up, she heard the faint sound of something...jingling? She felt a sharp poke to her ribs. She grumbled quietly, still not entirely awake. She received another poke to her ribs. She whined and mumbled in response. Then there was a full force kick that squeezed the air out of her and made her turn to her side.

She held onto the boot that had kicked her and opened her eyes. Black boots that went into a tip at the toes. She knew where she had seen those silly jingly boots before. She looked up. Familiar orange eyes looked down on her. He was in his cambion form.

“Oh shit,” she mumbled.

“Indeed,” Raphael said in a dangerously low tone.

Tav had signed his contract back then and used the Orphic Hammer to free Orpheus. She did intend to give the Crown of Karsus to Raphael, but her companions made her change her mind. The Crown of Karsus ended up in Mystra’s hands instead, in order to cure Gale of his orb.

“Thank you for bringing her here, Cassius,” Raphael said to someone else while his eyes were still locked on her. “Now leave us.”

Tav looked behind Raphael to see the young tiefling man that she had gone home with. So, he was a warlock… It suddenly made all the sense in the world why he did not know his ass from his elbow when it came to wizardry. The warlock smiled at her as he left them. Tav’s eyes narrowed at him.

“Ugh…” she groaned and looked up at Raphael. “He’s one of yours? You couldn’t have sent Korrilla or something?”

“You know Korrilla’s face, little mouse,” Raphael sighed. “You may not be the brightest person I have ever crossed, but I don’t expect you to be so dull that you would walk into my trap willingly…Then again, nothing would surprise me with you.”

Trap? Why couldn’t he just whisk her away like he did that first time they met if he wanted her there? Tav’s brow furrowed as she tried to understand. She lifted her head to look down her body. She wasn’t wearing a shirt. That was going to have to be a concern for a later time, because she noticed that she was wearing something around her wrists. They were tight metal cuffs with infernal letters inscribed in them.

Her brain was not her friend between the high levels of alcohol still in her blood and the fact that she had been hit on her head with a blunt object. She held the cuffs up to her face and studied them with all the concentration she could muster. She had seen something like these cuffs before…

“Help me out here…” she said and looked up at Raphael.

“They are constructs like those that held Prince Orpheus,” Raphael explained. “I’m aware that your mental capabilities leave something to be desired at the moment, so I will gladly explain it to you in simple terms: You won’t leave this house with those on, and you won’t get them off without the Orphic Hammer.”

“Is that what all this is about?” she sighed. “You could have just asked for it back. The damned thing has just been collecting dust at my house anyway.”

“No, Tav,” Raphael said in a darker tone. “This is about punishment. We had a deal, and you broke it. You snooped through my house, took things that did not belong to you, killed my incubus…I allowed it because I thought you still had the sense to go through with what we agreed upon.”

She winced. It had been a stupid decision to go to his house and one that did not even pay off. When Gale had been offered Mystra’s help, they went to the House of Hope to gauge their options. Everything seemed so tightly secured and locked down that they decided not to risk it in the end.

“Listen, I’m sorry about Haarlep…” she said.

“Don’t be,” Raphael replied smoothly. “I have half a mind to make you his replacement until your dear little friends bring me my hammer back…Then, I will make you watch as your friends die a cruel and slow death. After, I will take what is now rightfully mine: your soul.”

Well…fuck.

This wasn’t good. Her friends would without a doubt come to her rescue if Raphael told them that she was held captive in his home. She needed to keep them away and bide her time until she could figure out a solution.

“Say that they don’t come,” She said. “What then?”

“They will,” Raphael said. “You will be treated well until then since I need you alive and in one piece to lure them here. You will be granted free roam of the house, three meals a day, and a soft bed to sleep in. Consider yourself prized livestock that gets pampered in its final days before being sent to slaughter. Not that you deserve it…”

She took a deep breath. She had to somehow contact her friends and ask them to stay away. Then, she would have to find a way out of those damned cuffs so she could return home. How in the Hells she would manage to do that without the Orphic Hammer, she did not know, but it was not an option to gamble with her friends’ lives in order to bring it to her.

Tav had always found a way to be calm and relaxed, even in the worst of situations. She already had half a plan in her mind. All she needed was a moment of privacy to use a sending spell to alert her friends.

Raphael extended a hand to her, to help her up and off the floor. She took it and was pulled to her feet. She winced and held a hand to her head once the blood rushed to her injury from the blunt object hitting her.

“Come,” Raphael said and led her through the house.

They stepped through the barrier to the boudoir.

“I trust that you have already familiarized yourself with this room during your burglary, so I believe we can skip the tour,” Raphael said with no short amount of bitterness and then gestured to a wardrobe. “You will find clothes and essentials in there.”

Raphael turned around to face her. He looked her up and down. His gaze lingered at her bra and cleavage for just a second too long. Tav crossed her arms to cover herself.

“Bathe, rest, make yourself at home,” Raphael said with a smug smile.

Tav looked around the room and then at Raphael.

“Where will I sleep?” she asked.

Raphael’s smile widened and he gestured to his bed. Tav’s brow furrowed as her eyes went from him to the bed.

“Are you serious?” she asked.

“Deadly,” Raphael said calmly. “You killed my bed warmer. I believe it’s only fair that you take their place…Of course, I would never force you to do anything. If this little arrangement doesn’t suit you, I can have a cell in the dungeons cleared out for you. Its last visitor has been decomposing in there for a while now…”

“Alright, alright,” Tav said in defeat. “Fine. I get it…I won’t complain.”

“I thought not,” Raphael said smoothly. “I have business to attend to before retiring. Until then, Korrilla will be watching you.”

Tav sighed. She had hoped for a moment of alone time, but Raphael was not stupid. He was probably fully counting on her trying something, so he made sure to keep a close eye on her.

Korrilla entered the boudoir shortly after.

“Evening, boss,” Korrilla said with a smile, greeting Raphael before turning to Tav. “Tav.”

Tav smiled and waved casually at her. She had never minded Korrilla. After all, Tav did not know the circumstances of her pact, and she did not feel like judging her solely because her boss was a pain in the ass.

“Remember,” Raphael said addressing Korrilla. “Do not let her out of your sight.”

Korrilla nodded and Raphael gave Tav one last glance before leaving the boudoir.

Tav and Korrilla stood in silence for a moment, looking at each other. Tav was trying to figure out how she could divert Korrilla’s attention away from her.

“I think I’m going to take a bath,” Tav said casually and moved towards the restoration pool.

“Good idea,” Korrilla said, already following her. “I have to say, you look a mess. Cassius really did a number on you, didn’t he?”

“Yes. Surely, he could have used a spell to knock me out instead. Not too bright, is he?” Tav said and started slowly taking off her clothes, waiting for Korrilla to give her a moment of privacy. “He’s new, I presume?”

Korrilla seated herself on the other side of the pool, so she had a clear view of Tav.

“Correct,” Korrilla answered.

“'Correct' to which statement?” Tav asked with chuckle. “That he is not too bright, or that he is new?”

“He is new,” Korrilla said with a smile that signaled to Tav that she did not disagree with the other statement either.

Tav pulled off her pants, leaving her in her underwear. Korrilla was still watching her.

“Are you seriously going to keep staring at me while I bathe?” Tav asked.

“Oh, don’t be shy,” Korrilla said and gestured for her to continue taking off her clothes. “I promise you that no matter what, I have seen far worse within this room.”

Tav sighed quietly. She reluctantly took off the rest of her clothes and slipped into the warm water of the pool. She felt relief as the water instantly healed her head-injury and took the edge off her hangover. Tav leaned her head back on the pool’s edge and closed her eyes for a moment.

After a long bath, Tav dried herself off and wrapped herself in a towel. She walked to the wardrobe with Korrilla at her heels. She opened it and sifted through the clothes.

There was a bit of everything: dresses, shirts, pants…Tav looked at some of the underwear. She pulled out a strappy leather bra with matching panties and showed them to Korrilla.

“Is he serious?” Tav asked with a deadpan expression.

“Leftovers from Haarlep, if I should guess,” Korrilla said.

Made sense. Tav looked after any type of nightclothes. Most of it was very revealing, but she managed to find a long silk night-gown. It was still suggestive, but it was her best option out of the bunch. The neckline was quite revealing, but at least it covered more of her body than the other negligees she found.

“This will have to do,” Tav sighed and put it on.

Tav crawled into bed after. It might have been the most comfortable bed she had ever laid in. The mattress was neither too soft nor too firm, and the sheets were silk. She felt sleepy moments after she had laid down. Korrilla was watching her from a chair.

“You’re not sleepy?” Tav asked and looked at her. Was there even a small chance that Korrilla would fall asleep so that Tav had the chance to send message to her friends, she would fight her sleepiness and stay awake.

“I’m not going to cuddle with you, if that is what you are asking,” Korrilla answered, looking wide awake. “I don’t sleep on the job.”

“Oh, you flirt. Not what I meant. I was just asking,” Tav mumbled with a sigh. Her sleepiness won against her determination. She gave up on her hope to reach her friends that night and decided to try the day after as she drifted to sleep.

She stirred from her sleep when she heard Korrilla leave, and Raphael enter. She yawned quietly. She made sure her night-gown was adjusted so it covered as much as possible before closing her eyes again. She felt a dip in the mattress as Raphael laid down behind her.

She gave a surprised yelp as Raphael grabbed around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Her back was up against his chest, his arm held around her tightly, and he settled his chin on the top of her head. He placed his leg over hers, effectively making sure that she could not move during the night.

This was without a doubt the closest she had ever been to Raphael. His skin was unnaturally warm, like that of a person with a high fever. She knew that protesting would not get her anywhere, because there most likely was a reason as to why he held her like that: to make sure that she would not try anything during the night.

She tried making herself comfortable despite the restrictions to her movements. Raphael’s grip tightened slightly in response.

“Lie still,” he grumbled.

Tav felt the deep rumble of his voice through his chest, and she would have been lying if she said that it did not do things to her.

“You’re a really uncomfortable big spoon, do you know that?” she complained and squirmed again. “I’m just trying to make myself comfortable.”

She felt something through the fabric of her nightgown as she adjusted her position in his arms. It made her freeze for a moment.

“Are you naked?” she asked in disbelief.

“Mm,” he affirmed tiredly. “Sleep, mouse.”

“I can’t persuade you to put on some clothes?”

“You are very demanding for a woman in your position,” Raphael said. “No. I will sleep in my own bed as I please.”

She sighed and adjusted herself one last time before closing her eyes.

Sleeping in the arms of a devil was pure hell for a multitude of reasons. Tav had never sweated so much in her life.

With difficulty, Tav rolled over to her other side since her back was literally soaked with sweat. Raphael’s grip was so tight around her that she was almost forced to lean her head against his chest as she faced him. She refused to do so and leaned her head back and away from him. The awkward position made her snore softly in her sleep. She was rudely woken during the night by his tail hitting her thigh, as a hint for her to stop snoring.

She was rudely woken yet again, when he suddenly snaked his arm under her to grab her and move her with him like a ragdoll as he rolled over to his other side.

In the early morning, Tav opened her eyes as she felt something press up against her behind. She could hear on his breathing that he was still at least somewhat asleep.

He was rock-hard and his, what felt like, impressive size was resting against her ass.

He rolled his hips against her and groaned softly.

The arm that had been holding her tightly, moved down to her hip to push her back against him. Another soft groan.

Tav’s eyes widened, and she was suddenly very awake.

She was careful not to move, but she did feel a tinge of growing arousal despite herself.

He pushed her back against him once again and groaned slightly louder. It was followed by a sharp inhale and a stir, as he woke up entirely.

A few moments later he got up and off the bed.

Tav squeezed her eyes shut. They had both knew what just happened. Should she say something? Should she pretend that she was asleep the entire time? Pretend she was dead? The last option was honestly tempting but she decided to try her luck with option two.

She listened to his movements. After a short while, it got quiet. She waited a few moments to be sure that he had left, before opening her eyes.

This could be her opportunity to reach her friends.

She sat up quickly and looked around the boudoir. Her eyes fell on the young tiefling warlock who must have entered without her hearing a thing. He was sitting in the chair that Korrilla had sat in the day before.

“Morning,” Cassius said with a smile.

Tav groaned in frustration and slid back into bed.

#raphael the cambion #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #bg3

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currentfications · 11 months

Text

Ocean Eyes | Part 3

Pairing: Bada Lee x Producer!Reader

Synopsis: Latrice bailed on you for dinner, but set you up for a date with Bada instead.

Warning: Swearing, Flirting, Legs

AN: Sorry for the late upload and shorter than expected chapter!! Still trying to get over Monday - will try to upload over the next few days. Thank you to everyone for following along~

Previous | Next

After finally getting the keys to your recording studio, you were overjoyed and decided to take Latrice out for celebratory dinner.

Y/N: Dinner’s on me make yourself available

Latrice: 🤨

Latrice: u tryna poison me again?

Y/N: It was one time Latrice get over it

Latrice: I don’t have comprehensive health insurance here I’m not risking it

Y/N: 🙄 I’m taking you out for dinner

Latrice: Keep talking

Y/N: THE STUDIO IS READYYYY 🤩

Y/N: And I don’t wanna drink alone

Latrice: Wait that’s actually good news I’m so happy for you ahhhh 🥰🥰🥰

Latrice: But still no

Y/N: What why what did I do?

Latrice: Nothing I am busy

Y/N: 🧐

Y/N: Busy?

Y/N: …

Y/N: Waitttttt a damn minute

Y/N: I want a name cunt who tf you linked up with

Y/N: HELLO??? MA’AM?

Y/N: Whatever happened to sharing is caring huh?

Latrice: 👉🏾👈🏾

Y/N: Oh god what have you done

Y/N: Tell me it’s not who I think it is you dumb fucking bitch 😇

Latrice: 🤭

Y/N: Ms. Kabamba 😇

Team BEBE was filming the last bit of reaction segments with Mnet while they were interrupted by a few raps on their door. “Come in!” Lusher greeted her co-captain dance mate in with a hug.

Latrice slowly poked her head through the door, “Hey Bada can I borrow you for a quick second?”

Bada looked up, confused, but walked over nonetheless. “Is everything alright?”

“Calling in a personal favour,” Latrice smiled nervously, “can you go on a dinner tonight?”

“Dinner? Sure!” The choreographer hummed and nodded excitedly, “BEBE with Jam Republic?”

“You and Y/N,” Latrice snickered, “I have a date and had to bail, but she’ll be much much kinder to me if you’d go in my place instead.”

Bada raised an eyebrow and pointed at herself. Perplexed, she sounded a little dumbfounded, “Me? Why?”

Latrice rolled her eyes at the obvious question, “She has a fat celebrity crush on you since she the first episode aired, that’s why. Now please, pretty please with a cherry on top, would you go in my place tonight so she don’t-” Latrice stopped dead as you decided you’ve had enough of her ignoring your text and started calling her instead. Her eyes widen slightly in fear as she turned to the taller dancer. “Bada please I’ll owe you one, I’m so so sorry-” she swiped and picked up your call, “heyyyy Y/N, I was just telling Bada about your dinner plan tonight. She’s super keen! Here you go-”

Latrice palmed the phone to the choreographer like a hot potato, mouthing ‘thank you’ at the blonde.

Dinner with Bada? The sentence hasn’t fully registered in your brain as you begun to rip your high school mate a new one. “Ms. Kabamba,” you uttered with the coldest tone you could muster, a tone that Latrice knows all too well. A tone you only take with her when she knows she’s done something stupid, again.

“Sorry to disappoint,” a familiar voice broke you out of your rant. “Ms. Lee here. I heard we have plans?”

Damnit that cunt, I’ll deal with her later. You quickly composed yourself, “Never a disappointment, love. Any dietary restrictions?” You tried to mitigate your hoarse voice (from screaming ‘CUNNNNTTTTTT’ right before Latrice picked up the phone) and previously harsh tone by being as sweet as possible with your word choice, knowing that phone call rarely - if ever - made you sound more personable.

Love? Your husky delivery had the tall dancer flustered, trying to hide a blush taking form on her cheeks. Bada gulped, hard, and stumbled over her words, “N-no, I’m not picky. Where and when?” She tried to pass it off as cool and nonchalant, but Lusher seemed to have picked up on her change in tone.

“I’ll pick you up when you finish for the day? Latrice gave me their schedule.” Bada hummed over the phone, you can almost see her cute head bop as she does. Okay, dinner with Bada. One-on-one. I can do this, no biggie, fuck. “See you then, Love.”

Latrice gave Bada a parting hug when the call was over, the latter still bewildered by the unexpected call. “Thank you so, so much. You’re a life saver. Have fun later!” She quickly shuffled out the room, shutting the door behind her.

Lusher peaked over the tall dancer’s shoulder, Bada’s cheeks still warm from the conversation. She gasped as the blonde slowly clasped her hands onto her face, letting out a small shriek. “Oh god Bada what was that all about?” The co-captain raised an eyebrow at her leader’s demeanour.

“Lusher, did you bring an extra outfit?” Was the first thing that came out of Bada’s mouth.

Y/N: You’re off the hook

Y/N: For now

Y/N: I will grill you afterwards 😇

Latrice: What a weird way to say thank u but ok

Latrice: ure welcome

When you pulled up in your bike, you did not expect the gorgeous specimen to be walking out the building in a skirt. You gulped and paused for a (significant) moment, marvelling at her (legs). Her hair sat perfectly, framing her face. She smiled and waved at you, walking (omg her legs) over with a small prance (her legs y’all). “Hey, thanks for picking me up.”

“God you look amazing.” After pulling yourself together, you realised a slight problem. “I am so sorry,” you quickly apologised, motioning her skirt (legs), “I did not plan accordingly.”

She chuckled and shook her head, “Don’t worry about these, tights underneath. My hair however, is a different story.”

Relieved, you handed her a helmet with a smile and hopped onto the bike, signalling her to get on. Bada giggled and straddled herself behind you, wrapping her hands around your waist. Both of you were suddenly very grateful for the helmets for keeping you road safe and hiding blushes. “You good?” You did one last check. Bada hummed and gave you a soft squeeze before you both rode off.

Tag list: @bada-lee-ily @lil-elliesgf

#bada lee #bada lee x reader #fanfic #swf2 #swf2 x reader

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littleadaline · 6 months

Text

Broken Record [P.G6] [Part II]

Warning: previous mention of infidelity?

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: I’m finding it a bit wordy and lengthy, so I’m sorry if it is lacking clarity in some parts.

Part I

——————————————————————————

A year had passed since your breakup. Things had changed, you had changed, but most importantly, you healed. Your internship turned into a full time job, at a place where you felt yourself grow professionally and creatively.

“Got a minute?” Andrea, your team manager knocked on your door.

“I was just heading out for lunch. What’s up?”

“Dani called out sick for the next few days, so he won’t be the one to cover today’s photoshoot. I was wondering if you would like to give it a shot. Your task shouldn’t be too different than what you do on paper.” Andrea handed you a file.

“Yes! I’d love to give it a try. What time is the shoot?” You took the file from her, skimming through the general details.

“From 14:00 to 16:00. There will be an interview part in the middle, so count this as your lunch break. The company will have a buffet on set, unless you wish to buy your own food, which shouldn’t be a problem. With that said, the shoot starts in 30 minutes, so I advise you to head down to the 3rd floor to make sure everything is going accordingly.” Andrea said to you, closing the door behind her.

Grabbing the file previously left in your hands, you left your office towards the 3rd floor. The subject of today’s shoot wasn’t mentioned on file, which only meant it was either going to be a group or a high profile person. The door of the elevator opened, and a scene of chaos welcomed you.

“What is going on?” You asked on the technicians, setting down your bag on the table.

“The backdrop won’t hold, it keeps falling down. Some of the makeup artist’s makeup has been damaged in transport. And Marta can’t complete the makeup without the product.”

“What kind of makeup?” You rummaged through your bag.

“Some face powder. She says Pablo Gavi will be too shiny without the powder.”

Your blood ran cold upon hearing his name. You clutched at your powder before walking over to the makeup station. There he was, sitting his back to you. His hair was longer, his arms bulkier and his shoulders broader. He had definitely changed in that year.

“Marta, here’s the powder you inquired about. Just slip it back in my bag once you’re done.” You handed her the container, avoiding eye contact with Gavi. “Javier, for the backdrop, just use the sandbags in storage to tie it down. We’ll have the players stand on a platform instead. Everything should be in storage. Have Omar help you out.”

You shot a text to Andrea, informing her of the issues you ran into and how you fixed them. You wished she had warned you that Gavi would be at the shoot.

“Y/N…” An all too familiar voice disrupted you.

“What can I help you with?” You tried to keep a professional attitude.

“How have you been? It’s been a year.” You didn’t want to face him.

“Really, Pablo? You want to do this now? At my workplace?” You said through gritted teeth. You finally turned back to face him. You had to contain your surprise when you saw his face. He looked different…better. More mature to be exact.

“We never really got the chance to talk things out. You just… left.”

“I left for a reason, Pablo. I left because you couldn’t be bothered to treat me as an equal in the relationship we had. I left because I was tired of being treated liked a maid in my own house. I left… because despite everything I did to save our relationship, you still went out and cheated. I left because your sister and your friends defended your behaviour instead of calling you out. This…us wasn’t working out.” You sighed. The last thing you wanted to do was explain your decision.

You left Pablo unable to answer and headed back to the table where you had left your bag. Soon, the rest of the scheduled team for today’s shoot rolled out. You recognized Pedri and Frenkie, shooting them a quick smile before focusing back on your computer screen. The first hour rolled by and you were packing up your things for lunch when a voice stopped you in your tracks.

“I’m sorry. That’s what I’ve trying to say,” You turned back, surprised at the words. “I promise you this isn’t an effort to get back together, but I felt like you deserved an apology… for my lack of involvement in our relationship, my dishonesty, and lack of faithfulness. After you left… I mean you must’ve seen the headlines-” You had read the headlines about Gavi’s behaviour. Slacking at work, always late, uninterested.

“I thought I would be able to deal with it on my own, but I was wrong. Pedri made me go see a therapist, he forced me.” You chuckled, sitting back down in your chair. “She taught me how my behaviour was causing distress to you, and why it led to us breaking up. I channeled the anger of my injury on our relationship. I am…sorry. You deserved a partner that showed up for you, listened to you, treated you with respect. And I’m sorry I couldn’t be that person.”

“Gavi, I… Thank you.” Was all you could come up with. You hated that it took you guys breaking up for him to wake up, but you were glad to have this closure after all this time. Your heart softened at the sight of him after his confession.

“I’ll…um leave you be.” Gavi awkwardly said, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

Unbeknownst to you, Pedri and Frenkie had caught the scene. After your lunch break, something inside the room had shifted.

“Is everything alright for the second part of the shoot?” You asked Javier. The man’s face soured at your question. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “What?”

“One of the models fell sick during the players’ interview. We’re going to have to change the whole sequence of the pictures, which is going to take some time to figure out. And the boys can’t stay too late either.”

“One thing! I need one thing to go right today!”

“Why don’t we have Y/N do it?” A voice spoke up behind you. Pedri was standing there, water bottle in hand and a smug look on his face.

“What? No. No. I am not made for modelling.” You rejected his idea.

Marta, Javier, Oscar, Pedri, and Frenkie gave you a look that suggested otherwise. You were made for.

“I can have you done with hair and makeup in 15 minutes.” Marta suggested.

“What will I lose aside from my personal integrity?” You sarcastically answered. “Fine, but I want to be done with this as soon as possible.” Marta whisked you away as soon as you were done talking. She sat you down in her chair before pulling your hair out of its bun. She played around with the curler until she was satisfied, showing you the final result with a huge grin on her face.

“You look so hot with this.” You blushed at her compliment, getting ready to get out of her chair, when she pushed you back down. “Uh uh, we’re not done yet. We’re missing a few touches of makeup.” Marta had you done in under 15 minutes, as promised. Looking at your reflection, you couldn’t recognize yourself. Your eyes nearly shined, your cheekbones and eyebrows features beautifully highlighted by Marta’s skillful touch. Marta led you to the changing rooms, handing you the silk dress and heels for the shoot.

“Que linda…” Marta said as you emerged from the changing room. She walked you back to the shoot, the crews’ jaw dropping as you walked into the room. Pablo couldn’t help but stare at you.

“Alright Y/N, I just need you to step on the platform right here. Oscar help her out please.” Oscar held your hand as you walked to the platform. “It was Pablo’s turn, so please step forward on the platform.”

“Oh wait, no-” but Gavi had already walked up to the platform. He was standing in front of you, shoulders back, a small smile on his lips. “I’m sorry. If you’re not comfortable you can step out of this. No hard feelings.” He said apologetically.

“It’s fine, Gavi. I can be professional.”

Oscar helped you pose for the first pictures, manipulating you and Gavi’s bodies. As the minutes went by, you felt yourself relax, the thought of the shoot being almost over comforting you. That was… until the photographer asked you and Gavi to be more intimate. Given your history, you were conflicted. To your surprise, so was Gavi.

“I don’t know if Y/N is comfortable with this.”

“I… Can we keep it low-key? Like maybe just like posing together… really close?” You suggested.

“That works fine. Pablo, place your left hand on her waist. Your right hand on her jawline, below her ear.

Y/N, both your hands will go on his chest, your left one slightly higher please.” Posing along, you could feel Pablo’s abs underneath his shirt. You could cut the tension with a knife, your heart rate quickening by the second. Pablo’s grip tightened on you, a breathless moan leaving your lips. You couldn’t help but stare at his lips, the faint layer of gloss Marta had applied mesmerizing you. You missed the taste of his lips, how they moulded with yours, their warmth.

You were ready to throw your morals out the window if it meant kissing Gavi one more time. His eyes shifted to you, his gaze drawn to your painted lips. He wanted to smudge the lipstick; wishing to see your makeup ruined by tears as he tore into you.

“Gavi…” you sighed.

“Y/N…tell me I’m not alone.” He begged, his voice quivering.

“We can’t, Gavi. Not with our history.” You looked down. The faint smell of his perfume was messing with your mind, your thoughts racing like a free horse. “Fuck it.” You said before grabbing Gavi by the neck, crashing your lips into his. A wave of gasps could be heard across the room, along with Frenkie and Pedri’s chuckles. Pablo pulled you in closer, one hand settled in your hair. His other hand pushing you flush against his chest.

After your stunt, the photographer showed you the pictures, glazing over the one’s of you and Gavi’s kiss.

“We obviously will not print these ones, but if you want a personal copy, send me an email. I didn’t know you were dating Pablo Gavi. Congrats on keeping it as tightly secured as you did.” The photographer told the both of you.

“Oh we’re not-” Pablo started, but was quickly interrupted by your words.

“We’re giving each other a second shot.” You shot a playful glance at Gavi, who was starstruck.

#pablo gavi #barca #barcelona #fc barcelona #gavi #gavi imagine #gavi one shot #gavi x yn #gavi x reader

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mirisss · 11 months

Text

SKZ Mafia AU

SKZ OT8 x afab! reader

Featuring Ateez, SKZ’s rival mafia

Wordcount ≈ 1.3k

Warnings: attempted kidnapping, violence, fighting, mention of weapons,

I changed the story a tiny bit but I hope you still like it.

Third person POV

(Y/n) had been out for a girl’s night with Lia and Chaeryeong, first some shopping, a dinner, some dessert, and now the next stop was a club. Lia and Chaer were excited and looking forward to dancing and singing their hearts out at the club. (Y/n) on the other hand, was feeling very tired, and she was contemplating going home to her eight boyfriends instead of going to the club. After thinking it over, she decided that she wanted to go home.

“Hey, girls, not to ruin the night or anything but I’m really tired so I’ll head home, but you guys should go,” “Are you sure?” “Yes, Chaer, I’m sure. I’m really tired so even if I went to the club it wouldn’t be any fun, you know having me yawning and asking when we’d be going home. Besides, we can always go out some other time,” “Want us to wait with you until the taxi comes?” “Nah, it’s fine, I’ll just call the boys and they’ll come. They’re eating dinner about two streets away from here,” “Alright, text us when you get home,” “Will do,”

As the two girls began walking again, (Y/n) took up her phone and dialed Chan’s number. “Hey, baby, what’s up?” “I’m really tired so I decided not to go clubbing, I just parted with the girls, are you guys still at Chang’s? I’m not too far from there so maybe we could meet up halfway?” “Yeah, we were just leaving, but I think it’s better if you stay where you are, if you’re alone you could become a target, just stay there and wait for us, we’ll be there in 5,” And so they hung up, (Y/n) spent the time scrolling through her phone, waiting for SKZ to show up.

Suddenly, she saw two pairs of shoes coming into her view as she looked at her phone. She didn’t recognize them so (Y/n) looked up from her phone, hoping her boyfriends had just gotten new shoes. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. She met the eyes of two men that she did recognize, she turned and prepared to run, only to meet 6 more men, all sporting nasty smirks. “Where are you going, sweetheart?” The shortest man spoke, sending anxious shivers down (Y/n)’s spine as she hoped SKZ would arrive soon.

(Y/n) knew that her boyfriends were the leaders and members of a mafia gang, Stray Kids, also known as, SKZ. Though, previously, she had barely noticed it except for them carrying weapons, having a bunch of money, and often dressing the part of the Mafia. She had seen pictures of one of their rival gangs, Ateez. SKZ and Ateez were the two strongest mafias in town, they didn’t fight a ton but recently a conflict had sparked between the two gangs. And (Y/n) had now become caught in the middle of it.

“Please don’t hurt me,” In an attempt to call for help, (Y/n) threw herself down on the cold, slightly wet ground. Clutching her phone close to her to hide it, she managed to dial Seungmin’s number but before she could actually say anything, Yunho lifted her off the ground causing her to drop her phone. Seungmin answered the call, calling out her name, with no response, all he heard was a familiar voice saying (Y/n)’s name and something along the lines of “Cooperate and we won’t have to hurt you,” Seungmin hung up the call and told the others of what he heard, the eight of them ran full speed, hoping to arrive in time to save (Y/n).

(Y/n) tried to run away, but failed miserably, the odds were against her. One vs eight, yeah, it didn’t look good for her. While trying to run away, she had fallen over a few times, resulting in a couple of scrapes and bruises, her phone had been shattered once Jongho noticed that (Y/n) had called Seungmin. Now, Ateez was trying to get (Y/n) to come with them away from the street. A few people were glancing at them but doing nothing as they recognized the gang and also noticed Mingi holding a gun completely visible in his hand, threatening anyone who might think of stepping in.

“Come on, princess. Nothing bad has to happen, just shut your mouth and come with us,” Seonghwa said, (Y/n) wasn’t sure who he was but she faintly remembered seeing the name Seonghwa under a picture of a man who looked very similar to this one. “If you think I’ll just surrender to you, then you must be dumb,” It was evident that Seonghwa did not like that (Y/n) was talking back to him. “Darling, you’d be much happier if you did as we said. It wouldn’t be good if we had to resort to violence, now would it? Hmm, would you prefer to come with us or lose a limb?” (Y/n) would be lying if she said she wasn’t frightened by the demonic look in the eyes of the man who now stood before her, if she recalled correctly, this was San.

Running on pure adrenaline and bravado, (Y/n) mustered up the courage to spit in San’s face. “I’d never stop fighting, now let me go,” “You bitch!” They all shouted at her action. (Y/n) was shaking, scared that she made the wrong decision and had commisioned her own death. She shut her eyes, preparing to be shot or stabbed or anything. She heard a lot of noise around yet she felt nothing until a pair of arms enveloped her in a warm hug.

“(Y/n)” The familiar, warm voice of Felix greeted her ears as she let out a relieved breath. “Come on, (Y/n), let’s get out of here,” Felix shielded her view as he led her out of there, the other’s staying to resolve the conflict. No gunshots were heard, (Y/n) hoped they could resolve the conflict peacefully. Wishing that all her boyfriends would get out safely. Felix led her to their car, where the two sat and waited for the rest. A few minutes later, the seven remaining boys returned to the car. (Y/n) scanned them for injuries, happy to see that her eyes couldn’t find any.

“Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” Changbin asked as he frantically looked over (Y/n). “I’m okay, I have a few scrapes and light bruises, mostly I’m just shaken from it all,” All the boys gave (Y/n) a hug each, mostly to calm their own worries for her safety. “Let’s go home,” Hyunjin said as they all got into the car.

Once at home, Lee Know and Han helped treat (Y/n) bruises and scrapes, then they all changed into comfortable clothes and sat down in their extravagant living room to watch a movie or two and cuddle. Happy they were all safe and sound in their home.

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diealittlesometime · 5 months

Text

Touch of Ruin

──── 002. Unseen Touch

pairing ☆ natasha x reader, wanda x reader

chapter summary ☆ As your bond with Natasha deepens, you start to experience a semblance of normalcy and comfort that had previously eluded you. Her presence brings a sense of security and the emotional support you desperately needed, allowing you to explore aspects of life you had always kept at a distance. Together, you navigate the challenges your power presents, finding solace and strength in each other's company.

word count ☆ 3.5k

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

Life at SHIELD was becoming less about survival and more about learning to thrive, and much of that transformation was thanks to Natasha. Your partnership had deepened, transcending the initial boundaries of mentor and trainee. She was no longer just your guide through the complexities of controlling your powers; she had become a steadfast friend, someone who brought a sense of normalcy and comfort that had long eluded you.

The training room at SHIELD headquarters was quiet in the early morning hours, the sun casting long shadows across the mats where you and Natasha stood facing each other. These sessions had become a ritual, one that you had grown to look forward to, not just for the skills you honed but for the bond that strengthened with each passing day.

"Focus," Natasha reminded you gently, her eyes locked on yours, not as a challenge but as an anchor. "Remember, it's not just about suppressing your power. It's about taking control of it, feeling its edges, and knowing when to pull back."

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you centered yourself, feeling the familiar stir of energy surging through your body. You focused on containing it, on not letting it spill out and cause destruction. "It’s like trying to hold back the ocean with a bucket," you said, a wry smile flickering across your face as you opened your eyes to meet Natasha’s steady gaze.

She chuckled softly, a sound that warmed the cool air. "Maybe," she agreed, stepping closer, her movements deliberate, a sign of trust and skill. "But even the ocean can be navigated with the right skills and the right navigator."

Your training sessions were often interspersed with these kinds of conversations—half philosophical, half practical. Training with Natasha wasn’t just about physical exercises; it was an intense mental and emotional journey. She didn’t expect you to embrace your powers—she knew they were a source of great anxiety for you. Instead, her goal was to help you control them to a degree that allowed you to function without constant fear. Her approach was methodical, breaking down each movement and decision to its most manageable components.

As you moved through a series of controlled exercises designed to test your limits, you found yourself increasingly grateful for her presence. Not just for her expertise, but for the reassurance that you were more than your abilities. You were a person worthy of respect and kindness—a lesson you’d been denied for too long.

After the session, as you both sat on the edge of the training mat, sipping water and catching your breath, Natasha turned to you with a thoughtful expression. "You’ve made remarkable progress," she observed. "Does it feel any different?"

You considered the question, the weight of your past struggles casting a long shadow over your answer. "It’s... freeing, in a way," you admitted. "To not be so afraid of myself all the time."

Natasha nodded, her eyes reflecting a depth of understanding that went beyond mere sympathy. "Fear can be a prison," she mused. "Breaking free from it doesn’t just happen. It takes courage, and it takes support. I’m glad I can be here for that."

The simplicity of her support, devoid of any reservations, made a significant impact on you. It wasn’t just training; it was a rebuilding of the self-esteem that had been eroded by years of isolation and fear.

"Thank you, Nat," you said, the familiarity of the nickname slipping out with an ease that surprised you both. "For not treating me like a... like a hazard."

She smiled, a genuine expression that reached her eyes. "You’re not a hazard. You’re a person. My friend."

The word 'friend' echoed in your mind, a label you had never thought to apply to yourself again. It was a testament to how much had changed since meeting Natasha.

In the quiet moments between missions, the bond between you and Natasha continued to deepen, evolving into something that felt almost tangible—a connection forged in the crucible of shared experiences and mutual trust. Yet, despite the closeness you shared, there were still unspoken boundaries, lines you hesitated to cross.

As the weeks turned into months, you found yourself drawn to Natasha in a way you couldn’t fully explain. She was more than just a mentor or a friend; she was a confidante, a beacon of strength in a world fraught with uncertainty. Yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling of apprehension that lingered beneath the surface, a fear born of the knowledge that your touch could bring only destruction.

It was during a particularly risky mission that these fears came to the forefront. Infiltrating a notorious arms dealer's compound, you and Natasha had to rely on your wits and your training to gather vital intelligence. But when the opportunity arose to extract information from a high-ranking associate, Natasha made a decision that sent shockwaves through your carefully constructed defenses.

In a desperate bid to extract the information before the target realized their deception, Natasha used her considerable charms to seduce the man. You watched in stunned silence as she leaned in close, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered honeyed promises and half-truths.

But the mission took a dangerous turn when the man, realizing he had been duped, lunged for his weapon. In the chaos that ensued, you found yourself running after him, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to keep up. It was a moment of recklessness, born of desperation and a misplaced sense of confidence.

As you closed in on the fleeing target, you made a split-second decision to remove the gloves that had become your constant companions, the barriers that kept your deadly power in check. You focused on controlling the energy that surged through your veins, repeating the familiar mantra of "control it" under your breath.

But when your fingers brushed against the man's skin, the result was instantaneous and devastating. His flesh withered and decayed beneath your touch, crumbling into dust as the full force of your power surged forth unchecked. Panic gripped you as you recoiled, the magnitude of what had just happened crashing down around you.

Natasha, ever vigilant, had followed your pursuit, her eyes widening in alarm as she witnessed the aftermath. Without hesitation, she approached you, her movements cautious yet purposeful.

"Hey," she said softly, her voice a soothing balm against the chaos of your thoughts. "It’s okay. We’ll figure this out."

But you couldn’t shake the overwhelming sense of failure that threatened to consume you. Had all your efforts been in vain? Were you doomed to hurt those around you no matter how hard you tried to control your power?

Natasha's gaze softened as she reached for the gloves that lay discarded on the ground, a silent reminder of the precautions you had taken to protect yourself and others.

"Baby steps," she murmured, her tone gentle yet resolute. "We’ll take this one step at a time. Together."

In the days that followed, Natasha became your anchor, guiding you through the turmoil of self-doubt and uncertainty. She assured you that your efforts had not been in vain, that progress was possible even in the face of setbacks.

One evening, as you sat together in the quiet of your shared quarters, you found yourself flinching away from Natasha’s touch, the memory of your recent failure still fresh in your mind.

"It’s okay," she said, her voice soft with understanding. "You won’t hurt me. Not with the gloves on."

Her words were a lifeline, a reminder that despite the dangers that lurked within you, there was still room for connection and intimacy. You reached out tentatively, your fingers brushing against hers through the barrier of fabric, a silent reassurance of your bond.

Natasha's eyes held a gentle empathy as you navigated the complex layers of your emotions. The vulnerability in her gaze was rare, revealing the depth of her care for you. She scooted a bit closer, her voice a quiet whisper meant only for you. "We're in this together, remember? You're not alone in this struggle."

The warmth of her reassurance washed over you, soothing the raw edges of your fear. Here, in the safe confines of your quarters, it felt like the walls you had built around yourself could finally crumble. There was a sacredness in this space, a sanctuary where you could let down your guard and be yourself, vulnerabilities and all.

As the evening wore on, you both shared stories of your pasts, the conversations weaving a tapestry of shared experiences and mutual understanding. Natasha spoke of her own trials, the moments of doubt that had once plagued her, and how she had learned to overcome them. Her stories weren’t just narratives; they were lessons in resilience, meant to fortify you against your insecurities.

You listened, absorbed, finding solace in the fact that even someone as formidable as Natasha had faced her own battles. It made your own seem less daunting, more a part of a universal struggle against the darker parts of oneself.

"Everyone has something they fear," Natasha said, her voice reflecting a hard-earned wisdom. "Fear tells us we’re about to do something brave. And overcoming it—acknowledging it but not letting it rule us—that's what makes us stronger."

Her words resonated deep within you, igniting a spark of determination. You looked at her, really looked, and saw not just the super spy everyone revered, but a woman who had battled through darkness to find her own light. It was inspiring, and for the first time, you truly believed you could find your way through the shadows too.

With each story Natasha shared, each layer of her past that she peeled back, you found yourself understanding more profoundly the depth of her character—not just as a formidable agent, but as a human being who had faced her own abyss and emerged stronger.

"I used to think that vulnerability was a weakness," Natasha confessed, her gaze lingering on a spot somewhere beyond the walls of the room. "But I've learned it's just the opposite. It's the bravest thing we can do—being open about our struggles, our fears. It connects us, makes us human."

"I've always seen my... condition as a curse, something that isolates me from everyone else," you shared, your voice barely above a whisper. The fear of your destructive touch had always been a constant shadow, a barrier to any real connection.

"But being here, with you, I've started to see it differently. Maybe it's not just about the harm I can cause, but about how I handle it, how I use it to protect, to make a difference," you continued, your own words surprising you with their truth.

Natasha’s eyes met yours, her expression softening. "Exactly," she said, a gentle affirmation. "You’re more than your powers. You're a person who cares, who wants to do good. That's what defines you, not your abilities."

Her affirmation felt like a balm, soothing the long-held wounds of doubt and self-loathing. You allowed yourself a small smile, a flicker of hope lighting up the dark corners of your mind. It was a significant shift, one that redefined your self-perception. Natasha had a way of doing that—of guiding you to new understandings, new strengths.

Listening to her, you realized how similar your journeys were, despite the surface differences. Both of you were shaped by your experiences, molded by the choices you had made and the circumstances thrust upon you. This realization brought a new level of intimacy to your relationship, a profound connection rooted in shared experiences and mutual understanding.

"You know," Natasha said as the night drew on, her voice carrying a new layer of thoughtfulness, "I've always believed that the people we meet are not accidents. They're meant to cross our paths for a reason. Meeting you, working with you—it's changed me, too."

Her words echoed in your heart, a sentiment you felt deeply. "I believe that now, too," you responded, the sincerity in your voice matching hers. "You've shown me that even the darkest parts of ourselves can be turned into something good, something meaningful."

Natasha reached out, her hand stopping just short of yours, respecting the necessary boundaries yet conveying warmth and closeness. "We're more alike than you think, you and I. We both fight battles, just on different fronts. And I think that’s why we understand each other so well."

The conversation drifted to lighter topics, the heavy themes of the night giving way to shared laughter and anecdotes from past missions. Each story served to further illustrate how your lives, though marked by different scars, were threaded together by more than just duty. They were woven through with mutual respect, trust, and a deep-seated understanding of each other’s core beings.

As the night wore on, the conversation dwindled to a comfortable silence, the kind that only forms when two people are completely at ease in each other's presence. Natasha finally stood, stretching slightly, the movement graceful and familiar.

"I should get some rest," she said, though her tone suggested she was reluctant to end the evening. "But this—our talks—I wouldn’t trade them for anything."

"Neither would I," you admitted, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. As she turned to leave, you added, "Natasha, thank you. For tonight, for everything."

She paused at the door, turning back to give you a soft, genuine smile. "Always," she replied simply, then slipped out, leaving you in the quiet of your room, surrounded by thoughts that were no longer as daunting as they once were.

Lying in bed, the darkness felt less oppressive, softened by the bond you shared with Natasha. You pondered over the newfound feelings of belonging and purpose, realizing how transformative genuine connection could be. The fear that once gripped you tightly was loosening its hold, replaced by a growing confidence not just in your abilities but in your place within SHIELD and beside Natasha.

In the days that followed, your training and missions took on a new light. Each challenge was a chance to prove not just to yourself but to Natasha as well, that her faith in you was not misplaced. Your interactions with other agents became less guarded, more open, as if Natasha’s belief in you radiated outward, influencing how others saw you.

But more importantly, you started to believe in yourself. The haunting isolation that your powers had once condemned you to was now just one part of your story, not the entirety of it. You were no longer just the agent with a dangerous touch; you were a trusted member of a team, a friend, a person who had much to offer.

As your confidence grew, so did your control over your abilities. The gloves remained a necessary precaution, but they felt less like shackles and more like tools—extensions of your will to make a difference, to do no harm.

During one particular training session, you tested a new series of maneuvers that required both close contact and rapid disengagement—a challenging scenario for anyone, but particularly for you. Natasha watched intently, her eyes sharp but encouraging.

"Good," she commented as you completed the sequence without incident. "Your control is improving, but remember, it's not just about being fast. It's about being aware of your environment, your teammates, and yourself."

Her feedback was invaluable, grounding you in the reality of your situation. It wasn't just about mastering your powers; it was about mastering yourself—your reactions, your fears, and your impulses. This holistic approach to your training resonated deeply with you, and each session left you feeling more capable and confident.

But it wasn't all work and no play. Natasha made sure of that. She introduced you to other aspects of life at SHIELD that weren't about combat or survival. You attended strategy meetings together, joined team-building exercises, and even participated in the occasional recreational activity. It was during these lighter moments that you saw another side of Natasha—relaxed, joking, and more open.

These experiences helped cement your place within the team. You weren't just the agent with a lethal touch; you were a valued member of a community, contributing in ways that went beyond the battlefield. Your relationship with Natasha played a crucial role in this integration. Her support and advocacy opened doors for you, helping others to see beyond your powers to the person you were striving to become.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day, you and Natasha found yourselves in the tranquility of the base’s small garden. It was a hidden gem, a place where agents could find a moment of peace amidst their chaotic lives.

"You’ve come a long way," Natasha said, her voice soft in the dim light of the setting sun. "I’ve seen you grow not just in skill, but in spirit."

Her words warmed you, filling you with a mix of pride and gratitude. "I couldn’t have done it without you," you admitted, looking over at her. "You didn’t just train me; you believed in me. That made all the difference."

Natasha smiled, turning to face you. "Believing in you was easy," she said earnestly. "Seeing you believe in yourself—that’s been the real reward."

As you sat there, the gentle hum of the evening around you, you realized how much those words meant.

After months of missions and shared experiences, your relationship with Natasha had solidified into something that comfortably straddled the line between friendship and something subtly more profound. It was a unique connection, colored by deep mutual respect and a kind of intimacy that was rare in the often volatile environment of SHIELD. This bond had naturally evolved into an essential part of both your lives, filling roles that had been vacant for too long.

One chilly evening, as winter began to make its presence felt with sharp winds and early sunsets, you and Natasha found yourselves tasked with a relatively mundane but critical assignment: overseeing the recalibration of SHIELD's extensive surveillance network. The work was meticulous and required a keen eye for detail, making the two of you a perfect team for the job.

Seated side by side in the control room, surrounded by monitors displaying feeds from across the globe, you worked in comfortable silence, each familiar with the other's rhythms and methods. The quiet was a canvas for concentration, but it also allowed for a closeness that had become a cherished aspect of your interactions.

As the hours ticked by, the monotony of the task at hand began to wear on both of you, leading Natasha to break the silence with a light, teasing comment. "You know, if I had to be stuck doing this with anyone else, I might have lost my mind by now," she said, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

You chuckled, appreciating the humor. "Glad to be of service, Romanoff. Just don't start thinking of making this a regular evening plan."

Her smile widened, and she turned to give you a more scrutinizing look. "It's not the worst way to spend an evening, especially with good company."

The easy banter was typical for you both, but tonight it felt like it carried a layer of unspoken sentiment—a mutual recognition of the significance of each other's presence in your lives. It wasn’t just about enjoying each other’s company; it was about genuinely needing it.

"Speaking of company," Natasha continued, her tone shifting slightly towards something more serious, "I’ve been thinking… about how things have changed since you came to SHIELD." She paused, seemingly choosing her words with care. "You’ve become someone I trust, not just on a professional level but personally. It’s rare to find that, and I…" She trailed off, her gaze meeting yours, loaded with an unspoken question.

Feeling the weight of her words, you knew this was a pivotal moment, one that could define the nature of your relationship moving forward. "Natasha, working with you, getting to know you—it’s changed me. You’ve shown me that I can be more than what I feared I was destined to be. And no matter what label we put on this, I value what we have. It means everything to me."

The honesty in your words seemed to resonate with her, and for a moment, there was a vulnerability in Natasha’s eyes that she rarely showed. Then, she reached out slowly, her hand stopping just shy of yours, her fingers hovering in the space between. "And it means everything to me, too," she said softly.

That moment, simple yet intense, solidified something between you. It wasn’t a declaration of romantic love, nor a dramatic shift in your dynamic, but it was a recognition of the special bond you shared. It was an acknowledgment that whatever this was—friendship, partnership, or something more—it was essential, valued, and deeply meaningful.

#wlw #lgbtq #mcu fic #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff #natasha marvel

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empyreanwritings · 2 years

Text

Two is Better than One

Pairing: Nanami Kento x fem!Reader x Gojo Satoru

Word Count: 921

Warnings: light smut, open relationship dynamics, nanami being a simp, jealous!gojo, she/her pronouns used, language (18+ only, Minors DNI)

Summary: You always get what you want - and tonight, you finally claim the man you've been craving.

“Does it hurt?” Nanami asks as he bends your foot back slightly. The action makes you hiss, but you don’t pull away. “It doesn’t seem broken. Just a bad sprain. Did you feel nauseous when it happened?”

You shake your head. “No. It just hurts like a bitch.”

“I told you not to dance like that in your heels.”

“But you liked watching me dance, didn’t you?”

Nanami is fully aware he is still holding onto your foot, and he can’t seem to let go. You slowly push it against his chest, allowing your knees to fall open as you move closer to the edge of the bed. His eyes drop only for a moment, but it’s enough to warm his face..

Of course, you’d be wearing those panties. The sheer black ones that let him see every inch of your pussy, and just along the hem is a sewn ‘S.’

The S is for Satoru.

It should make him want to turn away and deny your advances but it somehow makes him feel more alive. To know that you want Nanami? The only person Gojo would burn the world down for despite claiming not to be your boyfriend? It makes him swallow hard with anticipation. He can’t help it.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he murmurs once he manages to snap his gaze back up to your face. “You’re only interested in me right now because Gojo bailed on you.”

You stick your lower lip out and whine. He’s tempted to crawl on top of you and bite it, but he stays in his spot.

“That’s not true,” you retort. “You know I’ve always wanted you. Want both of you–is that so wrong?”

Yes.

Nanami inhales.

No.

If he were a different man, and if you were a different woman, perhaps he would feel disgusted. But if you wanted him and thirty other men, he’d let you simply because he wants to see you glow.

Though, he supposes he’s thankful you only want Gojo and not thirty men.

He chooses not to answer you because you already know what he’d say. Instead, he places a kiss on the inside of your ankle and slowly moves his lips up. You whimper and whine as he caresses his lips up to your knee. Your entire body is on fire, and the way you’re squirming makes Nanami want more.

But he stops, and it only makes you pout more.

“Gojo doesn’t share,” he reminds you. His hand slips underneath your dress to trace along the threaded initial.

“Satoru doesn’t make the rules,” you breathe out. You lift your hips, hoping to get more of his touch, but he doesn’t budge; he just keeps tracing the small ‘S’ as if it were your neglected clit.

“Oh, he doesn’t?”

Nanami’s head snaps over to the man standing in the doorway. His face is neutral, but there’s a heat in his eyes that Nanami recognizes as his rage. Had Gojo’s bulge not been obvious as well, he might have thought this moment would spiral into a fight.

You barely react to his presence as if you knew he would show up eventually. You sit up on your elbows, and a familiar cat-like smirk spreads across your lips.

“Of course you don’t make the rules, Satoru,” you reply–purposefully trying to rile him up now.

Nanami’s hand has not moved from under your dress, but you make sure he can’t even try to pull away by pressing your palm against the top of it. Gojo’s gaze flickers down to your hands, and the corners of his lips twitch. Nanami has no idea if that is a good thing or a bad thing.

“And who does, princess?” Gojo stalks towards the two of you until he’s standing directly behind Nanami, where he kneels. His knees press against Nanami’s back, and he hates that it doesn’t make him uncomfortable.

In fact, during all of this, he has somehow grown more turned on than he previously was.

You hum. “I think we should let Nanami be in charge tonight, don’t you?”

Gojo leans forward and gently grips Nanami’s chin, forcing the man to look up at him. Nanami’s brain screams at him to fight it–he signed up to be with you, not Gojo. But the way Gojo’s long fingers grip onto his chin makes him lose his train of thought. He’s slipping down a path of “I don’t just want her; I want both” and he doesn’t know how to feel about it.

He chooses not to delve too deeply on that.

“Whaddya say, Kento?” Gojo teases, letting his thumb brush Nanami’s lower lip so casually. As if they are already lovers. “Should we give the princess what she wants?”

Of all the ways he expected this night to go, this wasn’t on the list. He wonders if this is something you two plotted; he certainly wouldn’t put it past either of you to do so. At this moment, though, he doesn’t care. He wants to give into all of his desires.

He wants to fuck you and make Gojo watch. He wants to have both of you bending to his will.

He can think about the consequences later.

“Yes,” he replies. Without breaking Gojo’s gaze, he pulls up the little ‘S’ until it’s several inches above you before letting it snap back against your soft skin. “We should give the princess what she needs.”

Gojo smiles when he hears you whimper. It’s almost feral but still charming. “Well, alright then.”

#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento fanfic #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fanfic #nanami x reader #gojo x reader #nanami smut #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #nanami kento x you #gojo satoru x you #nanami imagine #gojo imagine

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steddio · 2 years

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It’s four pm on a Friday and the damn bell on Steve’s desk is ringing over and over like someone is playing whack-a-mole. Normally this wouldn’t even faze him. Almost a decade in luxury hotel guest services and entitled rich people tend to blend together into a mildly obnoxious but bearable blur. But at the moment, he’s in the middle of coaxing his very nervous-bordering-on-hysterical daughter into just going downstairs to meet her (frankly, adorable) homecoming date. He gives the universal “one minute” gesture over his shoulder and tries to gently wrap up the call.

“Sweetheart, I’m sure you look great. Didn’t your mother help you with your hair? Then it looks fantastic. It’s just Lucas, you’ve known him since you were six! I’m sure he’ll agree that you look beautiful.” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling a migraine coming on.

“If he kisses you, he kisses you, you’ll figure it out! It’s not that hard!” He hears a snort behind him and it takes every bit of willpower in his body to not turn around and glare. “Sweetie, I have to go, I’m at work. Take a deep breath and go downstairs. And please take pictures!” He can practically hear Max’s eye roll through the phone. “I love y-” he gets out, but she’s already hung up. He inhales, counts to four, exhales, and turns to the counter, customer service smile already in place.

“Hello, my apologies for the wait, how can I help you, Mr.-?”

Standing in front of him is maybe the most gorgeous man Steve has ever seen. And living in Vegas he’s seen his share of attractive people. He’s tall, just enough that Steve has to look up slightly to meet his eyes, and wiry thin, wearing a band tee with the sleeves cut off down to his waist, which should look ridiculous on a man his age but doesn’t, instead showing a hodgepodge of well-aged tattoos. His hair is long and curly, nostalgic in a pseudo-mullet 80s way, with strands of gray at the temples. Long lashes frame wide, Bambi-like eyes that sharply contrast with pouty lips twisted in a condescending smirk.

“Munson,” he drawls, giving Steve an obvious once over.

Steve tries and fails not to blush. But only a little. He’s a professional, dammit.

“Mr. Munson, how can I help you?” He asks politely. The name sounds a bit familiar, but he can’t place it. And there are lots of famous and wannabe-famous guests at this casino anyway.

“My room needs more towels,” Mr. Munson states bluntly.

Steve opens his mouth to respond that this is the concierge and they do not handle housekeeping requests and has he tried the front desk, before he sees the look of challenge in the guest’s eyes and bites his tongue. Path of least resistance it is, principles be damned.

“Certainly, I’ll make a call to housekeeping,” he replies. “What’s your room number?”

“1403.”

Steve expects the man to walk away while he picks up the phone and orders more towels for the room. But he just stands there, looking at Steve assessingly.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Munson?” Steve forces himself to ask. The migraine is in full force now, and he’s impatient to splash water on his face and take enough pain meds to make it to 10 pm when his shift ends. He’s distracted from his pain for a moment, though, when he notices an air of uncertainty interrupt the guest’s previously cocky demeanor.

“Can you, uh-” Mr. Munson starts. Stops. Takes a deep breath. “Can you put together a list of AA meetings? Ones nearby, so I don’t have to go far. Ideally one that meets tonight, but also one that meets tomorrow. And maybe just a list of all of them, organized by day, if that’s not too much to ask for, just in case.”

The words pour out in a nervous jumble that takes Steve aback. Not that this is his first request for AA meetings, but normally guests don’t come downstairs and ask for them in person. No, normally he sends them to agents and handlers and the occasional concerned partner.

In that moment, Steve is deeply grateful for his hard-earned, unflappable professionalism and the fact that this is Vegas and there’s no shortage of addicts in or out of recovery, which allows him to calmly tell Mr. Munson that, “Certainly, we keep a list on hand. Let me print it out for you.”

He turns to his computer and busies himself with pulling up the document and sending it to the printer, giving some space to the guest, who’s rocking on the balls of his feet slightly, one strand of hair pulled in front of his mouth. As he turns to grab the paper from the printer, Steve sees him shake his head slightly and square his shoulders. The sight of this obnoxious stranger giving himself a silent pep talk fills Steve with the sort of fondness for human nature that he thought he was too jaded to experience anymore.

He places the document on the counter and grabs a highlighter.

“This is the closest meeting tonight. It’s at 8 pm, and there’s another one at 10:30 in the same location,” he explains, highlighting a line on the page. “It’s about a 15-minute walk. Go right out the front door, walk to the end of the block, turn right, and four blocks down it will be on your left, in the City of Grace Church.”

Mr. Munson is looking seriously down at the paper, brow furrowed. He looks… cute, Steve has to admit. Vulnerable. Which is why he does something stupid.

“If you want, I can walk you there.” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them, and he tries to backtrack as fast as possible. “Or, I can, you know. Print out a map. Or you probably have maps on your phone, the address is right there, it’s pretty hard to get lost in Vegas, although sometimes the buildings block cell service.” And oh fuck, Steve is rambling. He cuts himself off before can dig a deeper hole.

“Would you?” the guest asks. And it’s not shy at all. No, it’s sultry, almost indecent, coupled with those big doe eyes looking down at Steve. “I’d be so grateful, if you wouldn’t mind.” And as much as Steve tries to tell himself it’s well within his job description to escort a guest to an AA meeting, he knows he’s stepping into dangerous territory. But he’s always been one to throw himself headlong into danger.

“Certainly, Mr. Munson. Just come to the desk when you’re ready to leave.”

“It’s Eddie,” the guest replies. His eyes glance to Steve’s nametag. “Please, Steve. Call me Eddie,” he grins, eyes wicked.

“Very well, Mr. Mun- Eddie,” Steve concedes, feeling a little out of his element. “Now, is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Nope.” Eddie pops the p. His grin turns down on one side so that the cocky smirk is back. “See you tonight, Steve.” He turns and walks away, narrow hips and thighs moving in sinfully tight black jeans that make Steve’s mouth go dry.

Steve lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and shakes himself a little, digging in the desk drawer for his headache meds. He goes to the restroom, swallows the pills, splashes his face with water.

“Get a grip, Harrington,” he mumbles to himself in the mirror. How many attractive hotel guests has he helped over the years? He can handle this one. Even if there’s something about Eddie (and a secret part of Steve thrills at the use of a first name), Steve can handle it. He can.

He makes his way back to the concierge desk where a young couple is waiting.

“Hello, my apologies for the wait, how can I help you?”

read part 2 here

read on ao3

#steddie #stranger things #steddie vegas au #is this anything? should I write more parts?#this au idea has been stuck in my head for MONTHS #lmk if you like it : )#A writes

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thebiggerbear · 11 months

Text

Only Ever Holding Onto You - Three - Same Old Shit

A/N: Hi all! I hope you all like this chapter. Personally, this is one of my favorites so far because I love Poppernak dearly but also I wanted to delve into the reader a bit more. This is unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Warnings: a ton of shit (literally)

Word Count: 7114

Series Masterlist

Series Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @rieleatiel

This chapter was recc'ed by @winchestergirl2 here.

You cursed quietly when you stepped in dog shit yet again. You took a deep breath to center yourself, knowing there was nothing you could do and that you would have a good hour or two of cleaning every single tread on the sole of your shoes when you got home to make sure all of the fecal matter was gone. For now, grass and a piece of cardboard that Poppernak hopefully had in the back of his car that could double as a floor mat would have to do. You opened your eyes and surged forward…right into another pile of dogshit.

“Motherfuck,” you hissed as you felt the familiar squishy feeling under your foot and the smell predictably wafted up to assault your nose. This place was a goddamn minefield!

You should have known, seeing the state the house was in as well as the makeshift garage. Not to mention the elderly age of the owners and the large lawn mower that clearly sat unused if the yards of rust covering it was anything to go by. This land hadn’t been worked in a long time; how could you expect that they would clean up dogshit where it remained hidden by grass that was long enough to wave with each passing breeze? Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Pops very carefully moving forward on his chosen pathway, obsessively checking the ground before he took a step. It just hit you that there could even be snakes in here and you could be walking through their damn living room. Son of a bitch.

“Hey Pepper Snaps, be careful! There could be snakes,” you called.

“I wasn’t thinking about that but now I am. Thanks, Y/N.”

You may have rolled your eyes and hoped he stepped in the next pile of dogshit instead of you.

“Did you find Goldie yet?” An old man shouted from behind you.

You turned around to see Lee Knutson, a man in his eighties, watching you from his porch along with his wife Marilyn, also in her eighties. Both of them owned this property and they had placed a call to the police reporting their dog Goldie as missing. They were frantic and because Helena PD loved to pass calls like this onto your department from time to time, here you were, looking for a dog in a place that could double as Jumanji to appease an old couple who loved their dog more than life itself. Hoyt had passed the call onto you with a smirk, saying “You’re an animal lover, right, Y/L/N? Why don’t you and Pop take this one?” Based on her passive aggressive comment, you knew she was still holding a grudge about your calling the Feds in on the Avuna Pharmaceutical case. You knew she had it in for you before that but now, you knew she was doing everything she could to make your life even more of a living hell as punishment. Especially when Beau publicly backed your play; that just made her burn even more.

Having no choice other than to send Pops alone, you found yourself entering the previously uncharted wild jungle of Helena, Montana, with him right behind you. You both were wading through shit and a yard that looked like it could double as an apocalyptic landscape because you’d had the audacity to try to do the right thing in a case where all parties were concerned. Something that from what you’d heard, Hoyt would have most likely done herself back in the day. You knew deep down though that her fury at you had more to do with Beau refusing to bust your ass than the Feds getting involved. You had decided that you would let it continue to be her problem and just do your job, like always. But damn if you had imagined it would get this bad. You supposed you should be grateful she hadn’t sent you and Pops into a dangerous situation where you might not escape unscathed, like exchanging fire with a perp, though the smell that smacked you in the face when you turned to face the old man had you almost wishing she had. You’d take anything else anyday over this crap.

“Not yet,” you yelled back. “But don’t worry, Mr. Knutson, we’re still looking!” You hoped you sounded more hopeful than you felt.

It really had been a shitty week, pun fucking intended.

The morning after the very weird night you’d had at The Boot Heel, Beau wasn’t in the office. Madge told you he had simply called out, claiming that he was taking a few vacation days, and that he knew the department had things handled. You thanked the woman and frowned at Beau’s closed door as you passed.

You had texted Beau the night before when you arrived home as he had asked you to, and he wished you a good night, letting you know he was safely home as well (he knew you too well). That had been the last time you heard from him which wouldn’t be that strange if he had shown up for work. You forced your worry back down and told yourself you were fretting over nothing, this spike in nerves you had was just a remnant from the previous evening. Your compass was most likely still recalibrating. Beau was fine, everyone and everything was fine, he had a right to take his well-earned vacation time especially since he never really took a day off — you were overreacting. But just to be safe, you texted Emily to check in. She got back to you within a few minutes, letting you know that she and her mom had a full day planned since they now had time to start painting their new home that they had moved into a few months back.

Carla had been ready to leave Montana after Avery’s death and Emily’s abduction scare but Beau thankfully had talked her into staying, for Emily’s sake, for his sake — all of their sakes. As soon as Carla sold the property she had shared with Avery, Beau helped her and their daughter move into a new home in a closer neighborhood that she was able to get a good deal on. You knew Beau had been relieved when Carla agreed to stay and you had as well, for him and for you. There was no way you wouldn’t try to follow him back down to Houston if he had gone, especially not when Hoyt might take his place where she could make your life miserable full-time and on the county’s dime. Just like she was already doing this week.

Emily promised to send you pictures of the finished product and you wished her luck, telling her to call you if they needed a hand once your shift was over. Em and Carla were fine; that just left Beau.

Before you could type up a text to check in with him, a quick meeting assembled that you had no idea had even been planned. Hoyt took charge and completely dismissed you, laying down the law for the next few days. She would be distributing calls and deciding who to dispatch. Which you found awful funny because that was bound to create issues with the system Beau already had in place. Madge looked slightly put out until Hoyt wrapped an arm around her shoulders and told her she would need the older woman’s help. You watched the entire scene unfold, arms crossed and leaning against the doorway, smirking and enjoying the show. It didn’t surprise you in the least when she approached you and Pops last with your assignments for the morning, a triumphant grin on her face.

“A couple of calls came in late last night that I’d like you two to follow up on.” She handed the sheet of paper to Pops who took it and scanned it quickly. “You don’t mind, do you, Y/L/N?”

Your smirk widened. She was clearly challenging you, practically daring you to say something. Beau had made it plain to her and the department often enough that you and Hoyt were equal in his eyes. Neither of you had authority over the other one. He told you later when it was just the two of you that he had done that out of respect for your career and experience thus far but also to give you a leg to stand on when it came to Hoyt. He understood that she worked hard in her position as undersheriff and he wasn’t trying to take that from her but he wanted you in the department working with him and he wasn’t going to demote you to make that happen. You were more than appreciative of his willingness to not only take you on and keep you with him but also to make sure you didn’t go backwards in pay or in your career. You found out later he had even taken a slight pay cut himself when he brought you on board, which you duly chastised him for later, not wanting him to sacrifice anymore than he already had. The response he gave you was a simple wink and his usual boyish smile.

So Hoyt and the department knew where you stood, something the blonde was testing right now because Beau wasn’t here. The department didn’t give a crap if she took advantage and lorded it over you as long as it wasn’t them, and she expected you to either fold or go running to tell Beau or something along those lines. She clearly didn’t know you at all if she expected any type of reaction she was trying to get out of you. Your grin matched hers. “Not at all.”

Her blue eyes narrowed but then you could see the triumph in her smile, thinking she had won some imaginary victory over you. “Great.” You pushed the urge to roll your eyes deep down, knowing that if anything happened with the department over the next few days, the responsibility was on her alone, officially. Unofficially, you’d keep an eye out during Beau’s absence and not let everything turn to complete shit.

Your smile grew so much that your cheeks started to hurt.

Hoyt began to say something else but before she could get a word out, your phone started ringing. You pulled it out of your pocket and the name on the screen sent your heart into overdrive. “Excuse me. I have to take this.” You didn’t wait for Hoyt to respond or Pops, but one quick glance confirmed she had seen the screen as well. The glare she was currently gracing you with was the glare to end all glares. You ignored it and stepped away as planned, hearing her snap at Pops to make sure you didn’t stay on the phone too long and to get out the door, before storming away.

This time, you did roll your eyes, and you picked up the call.

“Beau?”

“Mornin’.” He sounded okay though his voice seemed a little more gravelly than usual. You attributed it to the early hour.

“Morning. You okay?”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just taking a few days.”

“Long overdue,” you agreed.

“Yeah,” he sighed.

You glanced around and lowered your voice. “You really are okay, though? You’d tell me if something was wrong… Right? Like you coughing twice or asking me to take the pineapple slices off the pizza to indicate you’re being held against your will.”

He let out a laugh and that made you feel lighter than you had a moment ago. “I’m good, Y/N, I promise. Pineapple on pizza? How in the hell is that a pizza topping? I still don’t get it.”

“You would if you would ever try it when I order it.”

“I will never eat that crap. Who puts fruit on pizza anyway? Besides you?”

“A lot of the population in fact. That’s why it’s so popular,” you teased him.

“I’ve lost all hope for society.”

You finished taking a sip of your coffee. “Really? You’ve been working this job now for two decades and a yellow and very delicious fruit put on pizza is what finally did it for you?”

“Fruit doesn’t go on pizza, Y/N. I’m not having this debate with you again. Not this early,” he groaned.

“The trick is to get it without the sauce. That’s how I order it. It’s only weird tasting when the sauce is added into the mix.”

“If there’s no sauce, then how is it pizza?”

You snorted. “Pizza is all about the cheese.”

“And the sauce. Without sauce, it’s just bread and cheese.”

“Which incidentally are two of the most important ingredients for pizza.”

You smiled in victory when an exasperated sigh came down the line. “Okay, you win. So how do I get out of this conversation that’s happening against my will? Do I sneeze twice or ask for extra cheese?”

“Ha ha. You called me, remember that.” In your peripherals, you noticed Pops signaling to you and pointing to his watch. You nodded and held a finger up. Yes, you knew Hoyt couldn’t wait for you to go out on your crappy call list for the morning, and add more to it during the day most likely. Her pettiness could wait a few more minutes. Guaranteed, this was going to be the best part of your day and you weren’t giving it up that easily. “So, what are your plans for today? Have any or are you just taking it easy for the day?”

“Actually, I’m gonna head over to Carla’s and help her and Em out for the day.”

A small smile settled onto your face. “Em will be really happy to see you.” And both she and Carla would be happy to have the extra practiced hand no doubt. You almost wished you could join them, to help Emily prank her father by rolling paint all over his clothes if for nothing else.

“Yeah, it’ll be good to see her, too. I didn’t get much sleep last night so I spent a lot of time thinking. About work, about life and…everything, and that’s why I took a few days off. I’m gonna try to convince Em to go camping with me over the weekend. I want to spend some time with my daughter before she graduates and goes off to college.”

“Don’t worry. You’ve got some time before that happens,” you murmured soothingly. You knew this was something he worried about, he’d told you often enough. He felt like he was losing time with Emily, that the window he had was closing more and more with each passing day. That feeling only ramped up after Em had been taken hostage. You couldn’t blame him; for the first few months after, you’d hugged Emily a little longer and a little tighter whenever you saw her, something she endlessly rolled her eyes at but kindly allowed you to do each time.

“Not much.”

You bit your lip, choosing to ignore Pops who appeared in front of you, frantically gesturing behind him. Rolling your eyes, you turned to the side, lowering your voice further. “I think it’s a great idea. I’m glad you’re doing this, taking some time for yourself and to spend with Em. To hell with everyone and everything else these next few days, you hear me?”

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckled.

“And if anyone calls you from the department, I will personally run over their cell phone with my car. Twice.”

“About that…”

“Beau,” you growled in warning, walking away from Pops who was dogging your every step.

“That’s why I’m calling you. I’m not taking any calls from work for the next few days, especially if I get Em to go camping with me. I don’t want any interruptions and I trust that you and Hoyt will have a handle on things while I’m gone.”

You pressed your lips together, hating to lie to your best friend, but it was important for him to take this time. He never willingly took time off and you knew he needed this time with Em, even before he said anything. And for him to have come to this decision so suddenly, you knew he meant it. There was never a single second that Beau hadn’t made himself accessible, day or night, for anyone in the department. So for him to go radio silent intentionally for any period of time, he meant business. “Understood,” you agreed.

“But, Y/N, saying that…I do want you to call me if anything pops up that you think I should know about.”

And there it was, the caveat. “I’m not calling you, Arlen. Like you said, we’ve got this.”

“I mean it. I’m only available to you, Y/N, no one else. I trust your judgment and I know you’ll filter out most of the white noise. But also, if you need anything…you call me.”

“I appreciate that but we’ll be okay,” you reassured, quickly stepping into an empty interrogation room and shutting the door on Pops. You managed to wedge a chair underneath the knob before he could try it, smirking in satisfaction when the door failed to give way and he started knocking instead while calling your name. “And listen, I don’t want to intrude on family time but if you do need a hand with the painting, I can always drop by later, repaint everything you did, take my pineapple pizza I’ll definitely be ordering for a job well done, and go.”

“Hey! I know how to paint!”

“Yeah, you also told me you knew how to cook, too.”

“I can grill,” Beau snapped.

You heard the chair beginning to budge and you pressed all of your weight against the door, trying to prevent Pops from opening it. “Uh huh. I think the charred left corner of your deck would beg to differ.”

“Wow. That was one time and everybody was okay. When are you gonna let that go?”

“Whenever you allow me to call in some hot Helena firefighters next time to put out the fire and let me watch rather than making me extinguish the flames myself with a fire extinguisher I luckily had in my car that day. I was cheated out of muscles and sweat and big, big fire hoses that get everything wet….all that water pressure—”

“Ah, ah, alright, alright. Stop. Bad images in my head. Never coming out now thanks to you.”

You couldn’t help but snicker. “You deserve it. Now, seriously, go enjoy your time with your daughter and leave the department to us. If you need help later or if you just need anything, give me a call.” Pops was pushing against you and you were ashamed to admit you were losing the battle. Your feet were sliding against the floor as the door struggled to open, the chair having been lost some moments ago.

“Thanks. I guess I’ll let you go so you can get to work. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay,” you struggled to get out. “Have fun. Give Em a hug from me.”

“Copy that. And Y/N?”

Pops finally pushed into the room and you had no choice but to abandon your post or be flat up against the wall. “Yeah?”

“Be careful out there.”

Pops was hunched over catching his breath, glaring up at you and pointing to his watch, mouthing “Hoyt”. You smiled sweetly down at him. “You know me. Always am.”

You hadn’t heard from Beau later that day but it was just as well. You had had the day from hell just as you’d expected. You settled down on your couch in the comfiest clothes you could find and binged Real Housewives of Dallas. You normally couldn’t stand these types of reality shows, but this one had grown on you and always provided the perfect distraction. That and Floribama Shore. Beau had been present for at least the first two episodes of the latter to which he stared over at you in disbelief, promptly got up to grab a beer, and told you that he didn’t know you. And you replied back that you didn’t mind as long as he was willing to bring a perfect stranger a beer from your kitchen.

While you were indulging in your comfort show, Em had sent you pictures of the painted rooms as promised. It looked good and you liked the colors she and Carla had picked out. You broke into hysterics when one picture had Beau posing in front of a perfectly painted wall with a smug smirk and holding his arms out proudly. Beau was so lucky you didn’t have the password to the department’s website; you would have uploaded the picture so fast it would have made Poppernak’s head spin. Another picture showed a great selfie of all of the family. You liked that one, all genuine smiles and plenty of paint all over every single one of them (Em obviously had taken your suggestion and started a paint fight, you were so proud), Emily posing in the middle between her parents. It was nice to see them enjoying themselves, especially after the year they’d had.

You knew it hadn’t been easy for Carla to choose to stay in the same area she and her daughter had experienced so much trauma in; she had told you as much. It was important to her to keep what family she had left together, that’s why she initially wanted to move back to Houston. But when Beau had convinced her to stay, she did it to keep Emily’s family together though it cost her quite a bit personally. You did everything you could to help, leaning into the friendship you used to have with her back in Texas. Not to mention Carla and Cassie had also formed their own sort of friendship thanks to the mutual links of Beau, you, and Emily. There were quite a few times Denise had mentioned to you that she and Cassie had stopped in for tea when Carla was still trying to sell the old property. You all provided as much support as you could, to let her and Emily (and Beau by extension) know that they weren’t alone here.

Your phone chimed with the arrival of a new picture. This one had you bowled over with laughter for the next two minutes. Emily had taken a selfie of her and Beau making horrified faces at the camera, an open box of Hawaiian pizza next to them, the pineapple clear as day on top of the cheese (sans the sauce as you had ordered). Emily had added in text: “Thanks for the pizza…I guess?” You rolled your eyes, smiling, and texted her back that it was pizza and if she could get her dad to eat a piece, she absolutely had to record a video and send it to you. She sent a winky emoji back with a thumbs up when a new message came in from Beau.

You shrugged and quickly typed out a reply.

You snickered at the emojis he sent in response. Beau didn’t usually do emojis, that had to be Em’s influence, and you sure were getting a kick out of it.

Satisfied that you had more than made your point about pineapple on pizza being superior, you snuggled down into your pillows and started another episode of Real Housewives. Seeing location shots of Dallas intercut with the episode caused a little pang inside your chest. Perhaps that’s part of the reason you tolerated such a dramatic show. You had only been to Dallas once or twice but still, the images reminded you of home and it provided a tiny salve for your heart, something you needed after such a rough day. Smiling when you were flooded with happy memories, you slowly closed your eyes and you were out like a light before Leanne and Brandi could start fighting for the umpteenth time over who betrayed who while Stephanie watched from the background looking torn.

And the rest of the week had been just as rough. You had come to refer to it as Hell Week between you and Poppernak. Hoyt made sure to give you the worst calls she could pull from the list each morning, either giving them to you directly or giving them to Pops knowing you would join him so he had backup. And you were pretty sure she had Madge dispatching any bullshit calls to you both during the day. Truthfully, it was starting to wear on you a little but you refused to show any trace of it to Hoyt or anyone in the department. That’s exactly what she wanted and you’d die first before giving that spiteful little blonde one goddamn inch.

Poppernak had even mentioned something one afternoon as you rode about an hour outside of town for a new case. It wasn’t his norm to make comments on the ongoing conflict between you and Hoyt, choosing to cruise in neutral territory instead, but that’s how much of a fucked up week it had been.

“Man, what did you do to piss off Hoyt this time?”

You shrugged a shoulder. “I was born, I guess.”

He chuckled nervously and shook his head, turning his gaze back onto the road. “Or something.”

“Or something,” you echoed.

You hadn’t heard from Beau in a couple of days except for a single text message to let you know that he had convinced Emily to go camping after all. He asked if everything was going okay and you assured him that all was well. It was a lie of course but you refused to tell him the truth. You were a big girl and you could take care of yourself. Besides, you chose to meet Hoyt’s petty bullshit with indifference.

And now you here were, schlepping through three foot long grass like you were on a fucking safari, looking for some old couple’s runaway dog and finding every conceivable pile of dog shit for you to plow through. Pops was whistling and calling out for the dog in his area and you were pretty sure he hadn’t moved any further since you warned him about potential snakes. Normally, you would have rolled your eyes and planned to tease him later about his apprehension, but in this situation, you couldn’t help but think that he was the smart one. You kept surging forward blindly, hence the crap all over your shoes.

You had made it a few more feet when suddenly a dark head popped up not that far from your position, startling you and making you gasp. Your eyes went wide when you realized what you were looking at. Was that a…wolf? A goddamn wolf?

Poppernak called out the name of the dog, and the wolf’s head snapped in his direction. You were stunned, but you still had enough presence of mind to call over to your partner albeit calmly so as not to startle the animal in front of you. “Pops! Shhh.”

“What was that, Y/N? I didn’t catch that. You see something?” He yelled back, making you grind your teeth together.

You carefully raised a hand in his direction to get his attention. “I need you to be quiet,” you carefully enunciated as you watched the wolf staring you down. “There is a wolf in front of me.”

“I’m sorry, did you say a wolf?” Poppernak cried out in a mix of disbelief and alarm. You bit your lip to keep from screaming out at him to shut his trap like you desperately wanted to. The more loud sounds that were made seemed to agitate the wolf and you were right in its sights. If you somehow survived this, you were going to give Pops a serious talking to. If you told him to shut it out in the field while working with him, he needed to shut his damn mouth, no questions asked, case closed.

“Pops, stop making so much noise. You’re pissing it off,” you said as calmly as possible.

“What do you want me to do?” Pops chose to loudly whisper instead. “Should I call Animal Control?”

The wolf bared its teeth at you and growled. Great.

“Don’t think that’s gonna help.”

You watched as the animal tensed and coiled in a backwards motion, almost as if it was getting into an attack position. Your instincts warred with one another; you wanted to reach for your gun to protect yourself but you also didn’t want to make any movements that might pose more of a threat. From the continued growling and its yellow-eyed laser focus on you, it was obvious you were already considered one.

“Y/N,” Poppernak stage whispered to you. “What do I do?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered back. “They didn’t cover wolves in training at the academy.”

“I don’t know, either.”

“You’re from around here, Pops. How the hell do you not know what to do?”

“Hey, they didn’t cover this in training here, either. That’s why we have Animal Control.”

“Pops!”

“Okay, okay. Whatever you do, don’t look it in the eyes. I think I remember my grandpa telling me if you do that with a bear, they’ll take it as a challenge and it’ll make them want to attack.”

The wolf growled at you and coiled back further, making you let out a nervous breath. “It’s a little late for that, Pepper Snaps.”

“Hang on, Y/N. I’m coming.”

“No! Stay where you are!” You yelled out in shock, wincing when you realized your mistake.

You saw more teeth and heard another growl. You decided the hell with it, and slowly moved to grab your gun. This thing was going to attack you, that was obvious, and while you’d rather it just turn and run in the opposite direction, you had to defend yourself. At that very inopportune moment, your phone vibrated in your pocket and your head snapped up, gasping when you noticed the animal ready itself to spring at you. This was it; you were done for. One of your last thoughts was that you hoped your being mauled by one of the apex predators of Montana finally lit a fire under Beau to prompt him to action and he ripped Hoyt a new one for sending you and Pops out into the fucking wilderness with no backup or protection.

“Goldie!” The old man called out from the porch. “Here, girl!” He’d obviously given up trusting that you and Poppernak would find his dog. Based on the wolf in front of you, you had a feeling you knew where the missing pet had gone.

Almost as if it heard that thought and it had reached its limit on irritation, the animal growled and sprung forward at you, making you surge backwards and cry out as you fell promptly on your ass, right into several piles of dogshit you had somehow missed before. You held an arm up in front of your face as a last defense and closed your eyes, anticipating the feeling of those sharp teeth you had seen and the ensuing pain.

“Y/N!” Poppernak shouted. You could hear him running towards you. “I’m coming!”

Much to your surprise, the pain didn’t come. The impact didn’t even happen. Your eyes snapped open in time to see a tail whooshing past you. In shock, you watched as the wolf broke into a run towards the house.

“Pops! It’s heading towards the house!” You managed to get out. “The Knutsons!”

“Oh shit!” Had this been any other time, you would have laughed in surprise at Pops’ cursing; he never cursed. But this wasn’t any other time. “Mr. Knutson, get in the house! Get Mrs. Knutson and get inside! NOW!”

You went into a panic when you saw Lee make eye contact with the animal and instead of grabbing his wife and fleeing into the house as Pops instructed, a huge smile broke out onto his face and he held his arms out. “Goldie!”

The wolf increased its speed and you pulled your gun, jumping to your feet and running as fast as you could, Poppernak not too far behind you, both of you thinking the same thing: Lee was old and his eyesight might not be the best. He probably believed he saw his dog running towards him and being overwhelmed with relief, he didn’t think anything of it. He probably hadn’t even heard Pops’ yells too well, either, but even if he had, he’d probably think the deputy was mistaken. He was seeing his dog returning home to him. There was no way you were going to match the speed of the animal, it was going to beat you to the Knutsons, but you were determined to try. You just hoped you got there in time enough that the injuries wouldn’t be too bad.

You heard the wolf bark as it jumped onto the porch, right at the old man. “Get back, sir!” Poppernak yelled next to you. Your lungs and legs were burning, but you pushed yourself to pick up speed and gave it all you had, making leaps over little objects that littered the portion of the yard you were in to give yourself more momentum.

But to your surprise, the wolf stopped right before colliding with Lee, and instead raised up on its hind legs, placing its paws on his chest. “Shit,” you panted out and pumped your arms to help you move even faster. The wolf’s tongue was hanging out in between barks and you were close enough now to hear it let out a few cries, too. But thankfully, it didn’t attack Lee, or Marilyn when she got up and hurried over, the smile on her face mirroring her husband’s. It also didn’t bite Lee as he petted its huge head.

“Goldie! Where have you been? We’ve been so worried about you!” The wolf barked in the man’s face, making him laugh.

You and Poppernak came to a halt right in front of the house and began to raise your guns to porch level and stopped, thinking the older couple was still confused. “Mr. Knutson, be very careful,” the deputy warned. “Don’t make any sudden movements.”

Both Lee and Marilyn glanced down at you in confusion. “What do you mean?” The former asked.

“Mrs. Knutson, carefully step away, slowly,” you added. You were still working out in your head how you were going to get Lee safely out of the way and how you could scare the wolf off so you wouldn’t have to shoot it. Poppernak could then call Animal Control and get them out here so the Knutsons would be safe. Catching a whiff of yourself, realizing it was actually wolf shit you had been trekking through this entire time, you even entertained the thought of looking into getting someone out here to clean up the property for them.

Marilyn’s brows furrowed. “Why? You found our Goldie!”

“Ma’am, that’s not Goldie,” Pops calmly stated, both of your eyes still centered on the large animal who growled in your direction.

“Yes, it is!” Lee insisted.

“Sir,” you began. “I’m afraid it’s not.” You really didn’t desire to tell these people that their beloved dog was gone, most likely killed by the predator in front of them, but that was something you could worry about after everyone was safe.

“It is too Goldie! Watch!” Lee glanced down at the animal, forcing it to make eye contact. “Goldie, sit!”

And to both yours and Poppernak’s shock, the wolf jumped down and did just that, looking as docile as any well-trained pet.

“Good girl,” Lee praised. “Now, lay down.” The wolf again did as the old man instructed, wagging its tail.

You and your partner exchanged a mystified look; had the Knutsons been feeding a wolf this whole time? And now it was following their commands? How was this even possible? Just when you thought you’d seen everything.

Lee began to laugh. “Oh, I see. You think she’s a wolf from the wild, right?”

You failed to see the humor and swiftly nodded, still keeping your eye on the animal. “She’s not?” Poppernak asked in disbelief.

“Oh my Lord, no. Goldie here is a hybrid. We’ve had her since she was a pup. Got her from a breeder. So you can relax now and put those guns away. You’re making her nervous.”

Poppernak slowly placed his back in his holster but you simply lowered yours. The wolf may now be watching you in keen interest, tongue lolling out of its mouth and panting heavily, but you still remembered how aggressive it looked back in the yard when you came across it. You weren’t blindly trusting what the old man was telling you; you needed proof first.

“Mr. Knutson, when I asked you what your dog looked like, you told me it had black fur and yellow—”

“Eyes,” Lee finished for you. “That’s why we call her Goldie. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

One glance at the wolf confirmed the rich gold staring back at you.

“But when we asked you the breed, you said it was a mutt, half King Shepherd. Not to mention it was about to attack Y/L/N here.” You gave a subtle nod of appreciation to your partner at that last little mention. Both of you were trying to desperately make sense of this odd situation. Especially since you asked for a photo of Goldie and you were told you didn’t need one since she had to be lost on the property somewhere, possibly hurt or dying. It wasn’t like her not to come home by nightfall; her being missing for two days straight, she was in trouble. Their urgency overrode your attempts to get a visual of the animal you were looking for. You’d even tried to persuade them to supply you with a photo anyway but Lee had been adamant, which is exactly why you and Pops had been making your way through the endless yard.

“That’s her dog half. And a hybrid is a mutt,” Lee mused, smiling down at his pet. “I know she’s big and scary looking but I assure you she’s harmless. You probably just scared her is all. She doesn’t care for trespassers and she’s a little wary of visitors.” Marilyn nodded along with him.

You looked over at Pops who gave you a shrug, unsure of how to proceed. You let out a heavy breath and slipped your gun back into your holster, your gaze landing back on the wolf who laid her head down on her paws, almost as if she was trying to look innocent of the accusation that had just been made against her. Your eyes lifted to her owner when a thought hit you.

“You got her from a breeder, you say? Surely you’ll have papers for her then.”

Lee scratched at his head. “We do, somewhere. It’d take us forever to find it but, hey! You ask the sheriff or Miss Hoyt. They know Goldie, they know she’s legal.”

Your jaw tensed at the mention of the undersheriff. You knew she was saving the worst calls for you to go out on and you had accepted this week was pure hell that you would get through no matter what, but this…this was just plain vindictiveness at its best. Now the smirk she’d given you when giving you this call made sense, along with her insisting Animal Control wasn’t needed when you mentioned it and the Knutsons were a lovely old couple that just needed a little hand holding since they didn’t have anyone else, their kids and grandkids having long ago moved out of state.

“Y/L/N, the dog is probably somewhere in the yard and they don’t even know it. It would mean a lot to them if we respond to let them know we’re taking it seriously. Just go out there, look around, whistle a few times, and if the dog doesn’t come running, then tell them we’ll put flyers up. Open and shut case, trust me.”

You weren’t a violent person by any means. You could certainly hold your own in a fight but that wasn’t the way you preferred to resolve things. But if Hoyt were here in front of you right this second, you would have decked her.

You glared over at Poppernak who was gaping over at you. He seemed just as surprised as you so that made you feel slightly better. At least the whole department hadn’t been in on this. You gave Lee a curt nod and turned to head back to the car, more than done for the day, when you heard a loud gasp from behind you.

“Oh, honey.” You spun around, thinking the worst only to find Marilyn holding a hand over her mouth, her gaze intent on you, while Lee appeared to be struggling to hold in a laugh. You knew it before she even said it. “You are just covered in…in…”

“Dog shit,” Lee finished for his wife and burst out into laughter. Goldie began barking excitedly, almost as if she was trying to laugh along with her owner. She ignored the glare you sent her way and kept on barking. You glanced down and you were indeed covered in the excrement. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Pops hold a closed fist up to his mouth, making a sound that suspiciously sounded like a chuckle and taking a step away from you. You scowled over at him, daring him to join in the laughter. The chuckle morphed into a sudden cough mixed in with a throat clearing, his expression turning sheepish.

Marilyn didn’t laugh, though. “I have some baby wipes,” she offered.

“Thank you,” you grumbled, not able to inject any gratitude into your voice just then. You hoped you didn’t sound too rude. Baby wipes were certainly better than nothing.

“Of course. I’ll be right back.” Marilyn hurried inside the house and you couldn’t help but continue to glare at the dog who watched you intently, tongue hanging out, not a care in the world, and a gleam in her golden eyes that confirmed for you that she found your predicament just as entertaining as her owner did. You shot her a ferocious glare as you worked to get your jacket off carefully with Poppernak’s help. Seeing the excrement now caked underneath your fingernails, you left out an irritated huff. Hell week indeed.

A/N: This was the image I had in my head of Goldie btw (black fur, yellowish eyes):

This is a full on wolf but definitely the look could fit the hybrid I think, depending on genetics and the dog breed of course.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for this series.

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greatideas-badwriter · 5 months

Text

Sacrificed To The Banished Prince Ch. 23

The couple traveled for nearly two full days via carriage before it finally came to a stop. Sakura groaned softly once her feet were on solid ground, stretching her arms above her head, only to freeze when Sasuke walked around her. They were in front of a high-end-looking stable. In fact, a middle-aged man in a suit was leading a gorgeous stallion toward them. It was the biggest animal the girl had ever seen in person.

The pinkette’s arms dropped to her sides as Sasuke approached to shake the stranger’s hand, speaking to him quietly for a moment. ‘Don’t tell me…. Are we traveling even further?’

Neither had spoken about the destination of their honeymoon, but the pinkette inferred from her husband’s silence on the matter that he intended for it to remain a surprise. Either that, or he was misunderstanding her lack of questions as the absence of curiosity. She turned when the carriage suddenly pulled away behind her, watching as it traveled further up the road.

“Ready?”

Sakura faced forward again. The man who delivered the horse was almost back to the massive stable already, and Sasuke was standing before her. She swallowed a groan and nodded. A mild blush met her face when he lifted her as gently as possible onto the horse’s back, climbing on behind her and taking the reins without delay.

A tiny yelp passed her lips when the horse began moving, her hands darting to the beast’s mane only to freeze before touching its long, dark hair. ‘Will it respond poorly if I touch it? I’ve never been on a horse’s back before!’

One of the large hands holding the reins moved to her midsection. The woman looked down in surprise as Sasuke easily adjusted her position so her back was pressed against him. His voice was barely audible amidst the stallion’s galloping steps, but it still sent a shiver down her spine, “Relax your hips.”

Sakura was so taken off guard by the situation that she found herself following his advice. Her entire being burnt with bashful heat.

He grunted affirmatively, “It’ll come more naturally with time; just keep doing it like that.”

She finally found her voice while attempting and failing to ignore the firm feeling of his body against her back, “This feels…indecent….” Surely the man was uncomfortable with having to be so close for an extended period. She kept having to fix her skirt so nothing above her knees would show, given that she wasn’t sitting side-saddle, too. She felt guilty that he had to cater to her lack of knowledge like this.

It was as if her words stung the man because his hand swiftly returned to the reins. A tense moment passed before he replied curtly, “Please bear with it until we arrive.”

For some reason, Sakura felt sick then, as though she’d done something wrong. She wanted to apologize but couldn’t gather the courage. So, she gritted her teeth and did her best not to be a hindrance to the now-silent man guiding the horse.

Time passed. It had been a few hours when the pinkette fell asleep, the previously jarring motion of the steed instead lulling her.

Her eyes shot open in realization the moment she woke and took notice of the fact that they were no longer outside, much less on horseback. It was dark. The sheets were silky and cool beneath her already-cold skin.

Unbelievable terror tore a strangled cry from her lips when a warm hand suddenly brushed her hair from her face. On instinct, her hands shot out to fight who her body was screaming would harm her. In the unfamiliar, dark room, the half-awake woman could only imagine the hand belonged to the person she feared most: Hihara.

“Sakura, it’s me! It’s Akuma, stop!”

A ragged breath left her, tears running down the sides of her face to drip onto her hair and the pillows. Emerald-colored eyes blinked rapidly, searching the dark for the familiar face that voice belonged to, “...A-Akuma…?” This time, when she felt a hand brush against her cheek, she frowned and tried to cease the tears.

The demon’s voice was soft as he obviously tried not to further upset her. He brushed his thumb across her cheekbone soothingly, “Shh, now. Do you not recognize this warmth?”

Sakura closed her eyes, focusing on his words. With a shaking hand, she grasped his wrist and leaned cautiously into his touch, ‘Hihara is not here.’

Akuma sensed her understanding of the situation and sighed, finally coming close enough that she could see Sasuke’s handsome features in the dark, if only just barely. His hand slid down to her neck before slipping back into her hair.

His too-sharp canines almost glistened as he spoke, “Who would dare pluck a flower belonging to a demon lest they come prepared to sacrifice their soul?”

Those words would scare Sakura if they’d come from anyone else. Instead, they put an end to her tears. She turned onto her side, as did Akuma. They stared at one another in silence for a moment before he suddenly breathed out, “You were a bride most captivating.”

She bravely bent her arm between them to hold his hand, averting her gaze to his long fingers.

He seemed to pick up on the fact that she wasn’t feeling talkative and sighed, his lips turning into an understanding grin, “Come closer. Your skin is chilled, Dove. The prince has established he doesn’t dislike being near his betrothed.”

Sakura felt like a child being teased by a doting parent as she was guided nearer to Akuma, burying her face in his shirt with a pout.

He chuckled, “Rest. I fear enduring the idiot prince’s lack of romantic prowess will prove tiring indeed.”

As she’d grown accustomed back at the manor, Sakura was alone when she woke in the morning. The weight of the covers was more than during the night, so she deduced that Sasuke had doubled them upon waking so she wouldn’t stir in the absence of his body heat.

When she sat up, she realized he wasn’t even in the room. Now that the sun was in the sky, she was free to study her surroundings. The bed they’d slept on was the biggest she’d seen. Judging by the wooden floors and walls, she suspected they were in some sort of cabin. Other than the bed, a dresser was the only other furniture in the room. There were two doors, one leading to the bathing room and one leading to the rest of the building. Furs and antlers decorated the walls.

While climbing out of bed, Sakura wandered into the bathroom to freshen up, ‘I wonder if this is a hunter’s cabin. I’ve never seen one before, but they’ve been described in many of the books Hana and I would read.’ She was also curious as to why Sasuke chose such a destination for their honeymoon.

When the woman was finished freshening up, she was surprised to see Sasuke was also not in the den or the kitchen, both of which were similar to the bedroom in aesthetic. Upon peeking outside, her jaw nearly dropped when she laid eyes on the prince. Not only was he chopping firewood with an axe, but he was doing so without a shirt despite the deep snow blanketing the ground.

Without thinking twice, Sakura rushed to throw open the front door and hurried outside, “Sasuke, you’ll catch a cold!”

Dark eyes turned onto her, and that was when she recalled their last conversation because he quickly looked away. His lips were in a stoic frown as he said, “I’ve not had a cold in my entire life.”

Sakura’s toes were freezing in the snow, but she couldn’t focus on that as she went to his side, eyeing the axe wearily, “Please, come inside.”

He paused before seeming to give in. He let the axe fall into the snow, bundled up the wood he’d chopped, and carried it into the cabin with his petite wife in tow. She fretted in the kitchen as he tended to the fireplace, “I’ll make some tea to warm us up.” Inwardly, she wanted to mention that they didn’t even need to use the fireplace. This place, much like a majority of livable buildings in the kingdom, was heated using both the crude electrical units that’d so far been invented and magic. The fireplace was more for show than anything.

Sakura’s mood worsened as she prepared the hot drink, stealing glances at her new husband, ‘He’s so uncomfortable that he’d rather be out in the cold than inside with me. What I said yesterday upset him greatly.’ She still hadn’t figured out why that was, but her gut told her that her words were the cause of their current tension.

Her instincts took over when she served the tea. Before she could even take a sip of her own, she noticed the goosebumps on Sasuke’s pale skin. Her body moved independently. Without speaking, the woman fetched one of the covers from the bed and draped it over the man’s broad shoulders. Sasuke froze, his dark eyes locking onto hers as she pulled the blanket further over him.

‘What am I doing? He doesn’t want me close like this!’ The duo didn’t move or even blink for a moment, but then Sakura snapped out of it and looked down at the teacup he was holding, “My apologies.”

When the prince didn’t respond, the remainder of her courage dissipated and she did her best to keep her composure as she sat on the sofa. Her gaze glazed over on her own steaming cup on tea, but she didn’t touch it as it sat on the coffee table. ‘Things were going well until I said those words. Will this ruin our agreement? Has he lost the ability to care for me now that I’ve offended him?’

The sound of the man in question setting down his teacup broke Sakura’s focus.

He didn’t look her way as he quietly spoke, “I’m concerned with frightening you again. Please don’t interpret my behavior as anything else.” The couple sat there, side by side but not touching on the sofa.

“Frighten me?” Sakura wasn’t brave enough to face him yet, so they both stared at the table.

“Your hesitance toward physicality is not something for which I can blame you.”

That was when Sakura realized what’d happened yesterday. Her face warmed as her voice wavered, “Y-You thought that I meant….”

Finally, the two angled their bodies toward one another, eyes locking cautiously. Sasuke needed to say nothing to confirm her insinuated question. His mutedly confused expression was enough. Sakura’s eyes watered up as she smiled bashfully, reaching to hold his hand between hers, “I only meant that I felt like a burden to you and nothing more. You’ve done nothing untoward, especially now that we’re married.”

The prince searched her face, “Our being wed shouldn’t matter in such a situation.”

And the pinkette was once again baffled. She tilted her head before shaking it, “The law states that a husband has rights to his wife’s body as her legal provider and protector. Even if you had frightened me, it’d be selfish of me to deny you.”

The hand in hers disappeared. Sasuke’s eyes were darker as they narrowed. She winced at the edge of his tone. “As someone who understands well what it’s like to not have a choice when it comes to one’s own body, surely you don’t expect me to agree with such a sentiment.”

Sakura’s face paled in realization, and she lifted her hands to wave them dismissively, “It wasn’t my intention to insult you, Sasuke! That’s not what I meant.”

His glare remained for a moment before he sighed, the tension in his brow softening. He picked his teacup back up and spoke more calmly while looking into it, “No, I know that. I’m simply inexperienced when it comes to romance and the duties of a husband. The demon wasn’t wrong to warn you of my ignorance.”

A tiny giggle escaped Sakura before she could stop it, and she brought a hand to her lips in surprise, blushing when Sasuke looked at her again. She grinned sheepishly, feeling more relaxed now that he’d attempted to properly explain his state of mind, “Is this what’s been bothering you?”

If she didn’t know any better, she could’ve sworn the tiniest hint of color met the prince’s cheeks. His frown deepened, and his jaw flexed, but he said nothing.

Affection warmed Sakura’s chest as she, too, picked up her teacup, “There is no need for you to feel ashamed. I, also, am nervous.” She could feel his eyes on her but simply took a sip of the now-only-warm tea before grinning again, “It’s only us here, so there’s no need for facades or pride, don’t you agree?”

This time, Sasuke took his time responding. Eventually, he did. It was clear by his new tone of voice that the conversation had eased his mind, if only a little, “It would be unfair of me to ask even more of you than I already am.”

“I’m asking something far more selfish of you, seeing as you’ll have to settle matters once your curse and I are gone. Please rely on me as much as needed while I’m still capable of offering support.”

Just like that, the ease of communication faded.

A tiny squeak left her mouth when Sasuke grabbed her wrist and made her face him. By his firm grip, she expected him to be angry, but sadness was all that bled from his eyes. They said nothing. Sakura searched his face in awe because the prince was doing nothing to hide his emotions.

Bittersweet happiness made her stomach flip as she realized what he was trying to tell her. ‘He’s afraid. I’m sure after a decade of living like he has, he never expected the approaching day of my death and his cure to arrive.’

Some kind of instinct, maybe maternal or maybe something else, washed over Sakura. She whispered because that was all she could manage in her emotional state, “Whenever you’re ready, whether it’s today, tomorrow, a week, or even a month frome now. I only ask that you don’t blame yourself for my fate. Remember that I chose to be your sacrifice of my own free will.”

The grip around her wrist loosened. Sasuke’s eyes widened slightly. Sakura opened her mouth to give a second attempt at comfort the obviously upset man, only to be cut off when his lips met hers. Her green eyes widened, but the prince closed his, so she followed his lead soon after. Warmth met her chest and face as she responded to his kiss. It was sweet and much too short.

Sakura’s mouth clamped shut when the Uchiha man pulled away just as quickly as he’d leaned in, his lips slightly parted as though words were on the tip of his tongue that just wouldn’t come out. It was completely silent for a very long moment as the couple stared at one another in mutual surprise at his actions, but then Sasuke got up and excused himself into the bedroom and then to the bathing room, “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Sakura watched him retreat in a state of complete bewilderment. It didn’t seem that he disliked the kiss, which left her unsure of why he said those exact words. She sat her teacup back on the table before bringing her fingers to delicately touch her lips. She swallowed hard. More than her husband’s uncharacteristic actions, her own emotions took her off guard.

‘Why did he pull away…?’

#naruto #naruto fanfiction #narutofanfic #narutofanfiction #sakura #sakura uchiha #haruno sakura #naruto shippuden #sakura haruno #naruto shippuden fanfiction #sasusaku fic #sasusaku fanfiction #uchiha sasuke #sasusaku #sasuke

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