#that opens a door of possibilities that most criminals never considered

[dc-sideblog]

Tim: so when I became Robin you were so opposed to teenage vigilantism you almost killed me over it, but when Scarlet does teenage vigilantism you make her #2 in your criminal empire???

Jason: exactly. Now you're getting it, Timbo

[naomikozura]

Playing with Fire: Chapter 1

Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Fem!Reader (Criminal)

Trope: Enemies to Lovers, Forbidden Romance

Warnings: Mention of illegal criminal activities, strong language, use of weapons, violence, assassination, mention of drug trade, mention of harassment, ending mentions shooting someone (let me know if I missed any!)

WC: 10K

Summary: It's been six years since you left your past life, finding your way to working with one of Gotham's most known crime lords. You have risen in the ranks but now your position and work is being threatened by the rise of a new criminal taking hits on your Boss' operations. Is this new nuisance a momentary issue or a long-term conflict?

Series Masterlist

Prologue || Chapter 2

6 Years Later

The buzzing of Gotham brought you out of your trance, the rush of cars and the blurred conversations of the people around you snapping you back to reality. You looked up from the magazine you had been staring at while you drank your coffee, the warmth of the cup burning your hand that you had to wipe it against your pants to lessen the burn. Your eyes focused on the big print on the stack of papers. 

The Dark Knight Saves the City From Chaos Once Again.

Saving the city. This city was far from being saved, and yet people believed Batman fixed everything that was wrong with this place. It’s been six years and the pain still felt fresh. You ignored the burning in your chest from the resentment and turned to look out the window. It was raining, the streets covered in water and filled with people going about their days while trying not to get soaked. You closed the book you had in front of you before throwing away your coffee, pushing through the door as the rain started to downpour even more. You decided against the umbrella, you didn’t mind the rain on your body but your apartment was a close walk away. Close to the corporate offices of Gotham, but far away enough that you could easily sneak into the darkest corners of the city, the parts of the city that were filled with criminals, street dealers, and the underground informants. 

This side of the city could possibly be the worst possible place for anyone to be, but you weren’t worried about getting caught in anything that could harm you. With your position, you were practically untouchable. 

You pushed the door to your apartment open, throwing your bag on the brown coffee table and kicking off your shoes. The apartment wasn’t anything crazy, it was a simple one bedroom that gave you somewhere to live and spend your days off at. It was more than enough for just you. You walked over to the small living room, turning on the TV to have some background noise as you turned back to the kitchen to wash the dishes. 

The news reporters scripted another story about the crime rates dropping and dramatically pushing the vigilante stories for years, only specific names standing out to the general public, especially the Dark Knight himself. You found yourself annoyed by the constant stories about the man, but you had to hand it to him, he was doing what no one else could and for that you had to commend him. Though, you’d never say that outloud considering your position. Saying something like commending the Batman in front of your boss would get you killed. Tortured even. 

You had to play the game, deal your hand correctly in order to survive. And for the past 6 years that’s exactly what you did. You trained, became smarter, more skilled, more manipulative, more strategic and calculated. Everything you did was to survive. Your loyalties to no one but yourself and the man that took you off the street when he saw your potential. You owed it all to him. Afterall, he was the reason you had some sort of freedom and rights in the underground. Working with men like him, people like him, made living in Gotham tolerable. 

You had protection, a stable income, respect from the underground workers, and a hand in every meeting and operation your boss ran. You had quickly become his right hand woman, it gained you a lot of respect from his partners while many others despised that a kingpin could let a woman rise in the ranks so easily and be influenced. Some questioned the integrity of your upbringing and loyalty, suspecting that you manipulated or seduced the man, but both you and your boss knew you didn’t need to manipulate him to prove you were a genius, skilled and talented in the art of deception, technological systems, and most importantly: killing people. 

You gazed over to the clock on the counter, the time having slipped from you as you turned off the TV, heading to your bathroom to change into your night attire. You pulled out a pair of leather shorts, lifting them as they hit your waist and pulling on a tight fitting white shirt that showed off the tone of your stomach. You quickly pulled on your black combat boots before tugging on the black leather jacket hanging from the coat rack by the door. You liked to dress in dark clothing, helped keep the mystery alive and gave you more confidence to reject disgusting men if they tried to get near you. 

You found your way out the window, dropping down into the back alley that led over to the east-side of town, making sure you had your gun strapped to your side under the jacket, your collapsed bow staff in the hidden compartment of your belt and your dagger in the sheath on your thigh. Even with your protection, you stayed prepared, afterall you were still a woman in a crime ridden city where you worked for one of the kingpins of the underground. Anyone could target you at any given second. You getting to the Boss alive was important, but staying alive through all the jobs he had you do was even more dire. 

You reached the dark building, the blue lights illuminating the outside as you walked in through the secret entrance behind the building. Only the closest workers to the Boss knew about it and even then you needed access in. Luckily for you, you had access to everything having to do with the Boss, even his own personal records and will. 

You let the music vibrate all around you, the smell of alcohol and smoke filling the air as you try to move through the hallways of the nightclub. Once you reached the far side of the room, you wandered up the staircase, following the long set of stairs up to the room hidden at the top of the building. You waited patiently before looking and seeing the guards as they opened the door for you, the dim light inside welcoming you as you stepped through the door, the guards closing it and remaining outside as you walked over to the circle of couches that were organized meeting style. 

Boss sat in one chair while he had a guest sitting across from him. An ugly, charred looking man who was no stranger to you, but you remained distant for a reason. The Boss didn’t know of your resentment, that was better kept for yourself. Better to keep your enemies far away, especially when it comes to the crime lords of Gotham.

“Y/n”, Boss called out your name, your eyes meeting him as he raised a hand, a glass of whiskey in it as he motioned towards you then took a sip. “Come sit.”

“I wasn’t interrupting was I?”, you asked as you made your way around the sitting area, the Boss sitting in the middle of the couch while you sat on the arm right next to him, your body in a neutral stance. Relaxed but ready to move if need be. You always had to stay prepared no matter how trustworthy someone might seem. 

You watched as the man in front of you stared at you, not hiding the obvious skim he did over your body before meeting your narrowed eyes. Disgust filled you and you could tell the son of a bitch took it as a gamble, a sign to ask your Boss in the cockiest tone for your time. 

“How much to have her keep me company for the night?”, he asked as he took a drag of his cigar. 

“She doesn’t do private sessions or take clients.”, Boss pressed, his voice friendly but had an edge, signaling for the man to not push him on the topic. You watched as the man, who was dressed perfectly in a suit, focused on you. Your eyes locked in a glare off, something you were used to doing with the filthy men of Gotham.

This man, though, was the opposite of filthy.

He was rich, coordinated, a businessman, and he’d have brainless women throwing themselves at him but you knew the game. You’d rather cut out your tongue than let someone like him get near you. 

“I’ll give you triple the price that you’d charge for any other one of the girls here. I’m sure she’d like a good paycheck.”, his voice filled with an edge, a desire that made you revolt.  You were surprised he didn’t recognize you, then again, it’d been 4 years.

“She doesn’t do private sessions. Put some respect on her. Ask again and our meeting will have been for nothing. The boys can show you the way out, Sionis”, Boss stood, shaking his hand as the man stayed focused on you. His eyes dark before we turned and said his goodbyes and left the room. 

You watched as the Boss picked up a folder, opening it and letting the contents spread out on the table. You leaned forward, soaking in the photos and papers that were laid out.

“Who was he?”, you asked even though you were no stranger to the man, keeping appearances as you skimmed through the images and articles. 

“Roman Sionis, the Black Mask, came in with a proposition for a new street rat that’s been making hits on his drug trade. Asking to combine men to take him out, asking for a $500,000 bond on his head.”. Of course the name sounded familiar, you’ve heard Black Mask’s name in meetings and throughout the city, but meeting him in this lifetime was a first. You looked at the Boss, wondering who could possibly be trying to get in on the drug trades that have already been pre-established in the city. They couldn’t be so dumb as to get mixed in with the men that lived in the underground of Gotham, the men who ran the streets with fear and power. 

“How do you think Two-Face will do with this? Do you think he might ask us not to help Black Mask?”, the Boss turned to you before stretching his hand out, handing you a small stack of photos..

“Depends, he might tell us to help, especially since it seems this rat is trying to get involved with Carmine’s ring, already busted two sites in up-town.”, you hummed in response. You looked through the stack, taking in the images. 

Two Face and Black Mask were on opposite ends of the crime grade, but kept neutral grounds because of their alliance with your boss: Penguin. Penguin was a businessman, used for everything having to do with organized crime in Gotham. If you needed someone with a hand in Gotham’s business, Penguin was the guy. It seemed since this new nuisance had surfaced, the big names were coming together to try and wipe him out. It would be the first time in years since the high profile crime lords called a ceasefire. 

The images were of all the operations that had been busted, blood all over the ground, bodies hanging from ceilings or decapitated on the ground. There were other photos showing missing cargo, hostages, and the papers on the table were full reports of every incident from the past three weeks. Who could possibly have the guts to do something at this caliber? 

Who would possibly have the guts to target the crime lords of Gotham so casually?

“Do you need me to investigate?”, you asked, selfishly wanting to know more about who this mystery person could be. Why were they doing all of this? 

“For the time being, no. If anything comes up or the situation gets worse you know you’ll be the first one contacted.” he motioned as you nodded once then stood, walking over to the cabinet he’d just pointed at. 

You pulled out a package, handing it to him as he opened it and pulled five stacks of bills out and passed them to you. 

“Your cut for last week”

You skimmed through it quickly, counting the money in your head. $15,000. As promised. 

The upside of working in organized crime within the underground was the pay. You worked one or two jobs a week and you got 4 months rent in a night. High risk, high reward. 

You stashed the money in your jacket, securing them on the inside to ensure you’d be able to put them in your safe back home once you left the Lounge. 

You stayed around to help Penguin with some admin work, getting a few hours into the night before deciding to go home. You gathered your things as you stepped out through the hidden entrance, your senses going off as you looked around. 

Someone was watching you. 

You pulled out your gun, holding it in your hand as you moved through the streets, examining every corner above your head and below you once you reached the roof of one of the buildings. The roof was empty, everything around you as though it had been left abandoned. 

You walked over to the ledge, noticing a small piece of fabric, a fresh scent lingered in the air. A musky type of cologne you’d assume. 

Whoever was here was gone. 

But why they were watching you was your main concern. 

You turned, heading back towards your apartment, the mystery person still fresh on your mind as you settled in for the night. 

“Penguin”, Black Mask started out, putting out the ash of his cigarette in the tray, “How are we going to handle this street rat? He’s starting to destroy the outer locations of our operations.”

The Boss looked over at Sionis, pulling up the papers of the file he was given a few weeks ago. You looked over at Falcone, who kept looking at your movements but looked away when he saw you draw your attention to his intrusive eyes. You felt your body move closer behind Penguin, knowing if something happened he would step in. Boss looked at you and handed you a key from his pocket.

“Y/n, can you grab the black packet in the office?”, you took the key from him and walked towards his office that was just across the room. As you walked by the three men, you felt Sionis staring at your legs, your outfit more revealing than usual, just spandex shorts and a crop top, but nothing too out there. You knew your legs were toned and drew the attention of men all the time, that’s how you were able to draw them in so easily, men were easy to fall victim to your charm. 

You unlocked the drawer on the desk and pulled out the packet that the Boss told you to grab. You walked back out and handed over the packet. Penguin opened it and pulled out the contents. It was a few photos and a document holding information on the suspect of the crimes being held against the drug ring in Gotham.

You saw the photos, the frame showing a man with a muscular build wearing a red helmet, his body covered in what you recognized as Kevlar plates. At least he’s smart enough to know to wear some protective material with half the criminals in Gotham looking for him for the delicious bond prize. “He goes by the Red Hood, he’s only been around for a few months, just started hitting the ring a few weeks ago. My guess is to work his way up from the bottom by getting at the heaviest hitters.”

Both Carmine and Sionis looked at the photos of the new vigilante running loose on the streets. You heard Sionis slam his fist on the table in front of him, shattering his glass full of scotch due to the impact. “I want his head on a fucking platter!”, he yelled, the anger eating him from the inside out. You watched his outburst carefully, ready to exit the room if the situation called for it. You have been in these types of meetings long enough to know when to exit and when to stay. The Boss only trusted you to be present during these types of things, especially when it came to meetings with his VIPs. 

Carmine took a deep breath and stood up, buttoning the middle of his suit, “I want to know what exactly this man has in mind for trying to get in on our operations, I’ll hire my own private investigator to get more on this.. Red Hood character. In the meantime, if anything more progresses, I want to know.”, and with that he excused himself and was led out the side of the building by the two guards at the door. 

Sionis stayed a moment longer, his hand having glass in it, but no serious amounts of blood coming out. He stood and wiped his hand, picking out the shards like it was nothing before he flipped the table over and breaking everything in the process. “I want this guy dead. Not shot dead or stabbed, I mean tortured, murdered, his head on my desk type of murdered, you hear me Cobblepot!”, you quickly moved forward, your small hand held in frame, aiming at the center of his head.

“Show some respect..” you said slowly, your tone laced with warning. You could handle a lot, but violent outbursts where the situation didn’t call for it irked you. Grown men needed to get some sense of control. Sionis looked at you, his eyes narrowing and you never breaking contact. 

He just laughed before raising his hands up, “I apologize. Penguin. I want his head on my desk.”, he kept staring at you, his eyes trailing down your neck and chest, your arms still in position, the muscle noticeable due to your constant work out schedule. 

Sionis walked by, stopped just in time to whisper in your ear, “I look forward to spending more time with you”, and he excused himself and left. Your arms to your side, uncocking the gun and turning back to Penguin. 

“You don’t need to be so assertive.”, you looked at him before placing the gun on the back of your shorts. “He needs to know his boundaries. He can’t act like a fucking child in a meeting asking for your connections” You grabbed the tray off the table and took it back to the other room. “Take the night off, you haven’t taken off in almost three months.”

“You don’t need me for anything?”, you raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Not tonight. Once we get a better idea on what we’re dealing with, I’ll send you to do your own search.” You nodded at him as you watched him walk into the office, pulling on your leather jacket, grabbing your money, and heading back to your apartment for the night. 

Red Hood.

You let out a laugh under your breath.

What an idiot.

Two weeks later

It was chilly tonight, the perfect night for you to get in field training since Penguin had given you the night off. You hadn’t gone through the city in weeks so the change of pace was nice. You hated not being able to get exercise and train in the field since that’s where the majority of your jobs took place. Scoping out the land, dropping in from roof tops, or running away from people chasing you to get back what you’ve stolen. It was nice to get out and run through the streets and rooftops of Gotham for once.

You launched yourself across the air, letting your body land perfectly on one of the rooftops before you headed towards the other edge of the building, heading towards where one of the major museums were, scoping out to see if there was anything that caught your eye enough to go in and intervene or get some action. You were about to push yourself off the ledge before you felt a crashing weight ram into you like a bull. 

You felt your body go flying and skid on the roof, your arm getting scraped up as you tried to focus yourself. 

What the hell?

You looked up, your eyebrows rising in shock as you tried to get your footing, pushing yourself back as the monster of a man kept aiming kicks at you. You finally got your footing, barely dodging the heavy, black boot that came swinging at your face. You launched yourself over the person attacking you, running to the other side of the building and jumping to the other one across the street. 

Your biggest mistake was looking behind you to see if you lost him because you ended up being met with the body of a bull chasing after you. 

Fuck! What’s this guy’s problem?

You decided you needed to attack, running was only going to make things worse or get you stuck in trouble. You turned, taking out your dagger and started trying to get at him, his body movements quick and calculated. For such a big guy, he was almost a little too fast. You watched as his arms tried to get you in a chokehold, twisting your body to ensure he couldn’t grab you. 

“Hey! What the hell is your problem?!”, you yelled as he continued trying to reach you, your dagger grazing his arm, cutting through his kevlar plates before you jumped, only to feel his hand wrap around your ankle and slam you into the ground, your dagger falling out of your hand as you tried to get yourself back up. You looked at the man, he was huge. Tall, muscular, but as he stepped into the light you felt yourself freeze for a moment.

Red Hood.

He didn’t answer, but you needed to create some distance. You needed to find an opening. 

“Who are you anyway? I’ve been hearing a lot about this infamous new rat running around Gotham, care to show me what the fuss is all about?”, you stood meters away from him, ready to lunge if needed. You watched as the deep red reflected from his helmet under the lights that lit the rooftop with a yellow cast. “Turns out I might be disappointed”.

There was a long pause, before you noticed he stopped moving, holding distance as he stayed focused on you, ready to attack if needed. When he spoke, it surprised you. 

“Well, I’ve heard a lot about you sweetheart.”, his voice rang out, distorted by the voice transmitter in his helmet. “The little errand girl that works under Penguin, does his dirty work while he sits on his ass all day cooped up in that piss poor club he calls a hide out.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, unsure of what to say or do. You saw his file, he was dangerous, smart, fast, and everything in between that you could possibly think of. He was a walking human weapon, the way his body was built, the weaponry he had, the way you couldn’t catch his next move. 

“What’s a lowlife like you doing trying to make deals with the street dealers of this city? Can’t take down the big guys so you go after the bottom-feeders?”, you taunted, needing to find a way to get him off his game. You were at a disadvantage, you didn’t think you’d be in hand to hand combat with the most wanted vigilante in Gotham, your only weapon now was your gun. You had your hand ready to take it out at any second. 

“Oh trust me, I’ll get to the big guys soon enough.”, you glared at him, noticing his stance. You quickly pulled out your gun, cocking it as he held his own aimed at you. You flickered your eyes down at his foot, noticing the twitch before he lunged forward, giving you a split second to move out of his way. You kicked him in the back, forcing yourself over him in order to place more space between the two of you. 

You shot your gun at him, his body turning as the bullet grazed his shoulder and you heard the sound of his own pistol discarding the bullets in its case. Your feet moving quickly, the bullets barely missing you as you ran toward him. You quickly tried to make a run for the ledge, only for a strong hand to grab your wrist and twist it behind your back, keeping you stuck in place before you could make your escape.

“Tell the fat bird to get his men ready, don’t leave me waiting.”, the deepness of his voice rang through your ear, his body pressed behind yours as you tried to wiggle out of his grasp. 

His grip released, his slip from the roof almost too fast for you to turn and try and fight him. You let out a heavy breath, fixing your clothes and placing your gun back in your waistband. 

You quickly gained your composure, forcing away the shock before you ran through the streets of the city. You needed to warn Penguin. You didn’t care about the risk you were taking running through the streets so exposed but notifying Penguin was priority one.

You reached the abandoned alley where you stashed your bike, kicking your leg over it and driving down through the streets of Gotham like crazy until you reached the Lounge. You pushed the door open as you acknowledged Black Mask and his men. Black Mask had reached out to Penguin about the new arising problem overtaking Gotham’s crime lords, stealing his territory right from under him like it was child’s play. 

“I have some intel.”, you breathed, every head in the room turning as you spoke. “He’s in our borders.”

“The Red Hood?!”, Black Mask’s voice boomed through the room as you stepped back, not knowing if this was his name. You just knew about the previous holders of the name, the identity dying out around the same time the Joker went back to Arkham. 

“I saw him. The .. Red Hood.”, the name rolled off the tongue almost too smoothly, still leaving an ill taste in your mouth. “He attacked me while I was on patrol, told me to tell you to prepare your men and…to not leave him waiting.”

“Who does this piece of shit think he is?!”, Black Mask was overflowing with rage, he’d already faced 3 hits on his trades, he’d surely lose it if he got another. 

“Then, I guess we’ll have to wait and see where he strikes.”, Penguin voiced calmly. “If he wants our attention, then he’ll get it soon enough.” 

You stared at him, unsure of his decision but didn’t question it. “What if he does more damage?”

“That’s where you’ll come in. I want you to find this rat, track his every move and report back to us. No one is better at this job than you.”

“I won’t disappoint you.”, you nodded to him, accepting his task as he turned towards Black Mask, trying to establish a framework to track, lure, and catch the Red Hood. 

You felt a sense of adrenaline through you, knowing this could possibly be the biggest job you’ve had yet. You’d been working with Penguin for the past five years, slowly gaining his trust and proving yourself to him a little at a time. You might’ve been doubted by every other high ranking mobster and crime lord in the underground, but having Penguin vouch for you led to many others wanting you to work for them, wanting to acquire your level of expertise. 

You watched as Black Mask stood, buttoning his suit jacket as he dipped his head slightly at you to signal a goodbye. As much as you disliked the man, he had been more laid back than usual which was strange but you didn’t begin to question the reasoning behind why. You waited until the door closed before redirecting yourself to Penguin.

“Boss.”, you paused, watching as he turned to look at you. “Are you sure about this?”

“(Y/n), you’ve proven yourself many times to me, I have no doubt in your capabilities.”, He was right, your skills and success rate made you undeniably good at what you did. No one ever questioned your methods, your skills, you had enough credibility that anyone who wanted to question your work were quickly met with looks or whispers of disappointment. You have solidified yourself as one of Penguin’s best workers, your reputation impeccable. 

Even so, the task of going after Red Hood threw you off. 

Maybe it was his quick rise through the rings in the underground, maybe it was his high profile, maybe it was the way he knew who you were even though he’d never met you before.

Everyone in Gotham who was remotely close to Black Mask and Penguin’s power bracket was after him, especially Black Mask. You could already imagine the type of press it would bring in for you if you took down the infamous new vigilante breaking apart the crime rings and reestablishing them as his own.

You shook the thoughts, hardening your resolve.

You needed to find and lure in the Red Hood, even if it meant killing him. The bond on his head would be more than enough to leave Gotham forever. 

Guess Red Hood’s my ticket out of this hell hole.

The next few days seemed to drag on, you spent most of your time using your sources to get more information on Red Hood. You went through every security footage within every major territory, dipped into police records, planting information in order to gain insight in other rings. You even planted recording devices throughout many of the hidden meeting places throughout the city and every outlier neighborhood that could be connected back to the crime rings in the city. 

You had three leads, three possible ins that could lead you to find the Red Hood and his next target for a bust. You noticed how he was already starting to pick up traction, apparently holding an anonymous meeting with some of Black Mask’s outer connections, giving them a duffel bag full of decapitated heads of some of the main operators. They quickly fed into the funnel of giving Red Hood a cut of the profits. You realized then that that was when Sionis had contacted the Boss and offered a partnership in the process. 

Leading to now.

You sat in front of your computer with all the records and reports in front of you, security footage and photo stills of him all over the city. You realized his two favorite weapons to use were an AK-47 and Jericho 941’s. He liked to use his little Scorpion Evo 3 A1 if we wanted to be theatrical but he rarely reached for it. You found shell casings of his 941 around some docks, the .40 S&W casing by where the dock ended. A single shot. 

He likely shot once and let whoever it was float in the lake until someone dug them out. 

And you were right.

Black Mask’s main operant had been found shot and killed by the docks. 

One bullet to the head.

Courtesy of the red hooded vigilante. 

You narrowed your eyes, watching the screen as you decided to follow up on your first lead. Another meeting by an abandoned warehouse about 45 minutes outside the city. If you left now you would be able to make it in time to get in on the trade, see if it was a good lead to follow up on and if it was, then you were one step closer to getting in touch with the Red Hood.

You quickly changed, putting on a pair of cargo pants and lacing up your combat boots, throwing on a long sleeve fitted shirt and pulling on your leather jacket. You grabbed your goggles off the counter, knowing they’d be helpful for infrared and night vision since the trade would be happening around 2am. Stealth was of importance. If you got caught the entire thing would go to shit, you would lose your lead and tip off the very person you were looking for. You always needed to be careful even if you knew without a doubt that he wouldn’t be there. You had to treat every situation like he would be present. You’d be able to catch him faster that way.

You pulled your mask up over your nose, pulling the hood of your shirt over your head before jumping out of your apartment window and into the alley where you had your bike hidden. You strapped your guns to your holsters, ensuring they were secure and your daggers were accounted for before you turned on the motor and sped through the street to the isolated location. 

You left your bike off to the side, hiding it somewhere you could easily get to in case of any emergency. This lead wasn’t just to see if the Red Hood would appear, it was also a job Penguin had asked you to look into. Black Mask had requested a deep search of his suppliers to see who was slipping money and information to the Red Hood under the table and so you were put to the task and turns out the supplier you were after was that loose end. Two birds, one stone. 

You watched as the supplier and his men were moving cargo boxes of illegal weapons, the kind you’d only find on the black market and could only inquire through the illegal trades within the underground. A group of men loaded everything into a line of trucks, two of them directing everyone while shouting the deadline for shipment, rushing the workers. 

You used your goggles to zoom into the field, taking out a small dart gun you had to send a small transmitter to the inside of one of the trucks so you could get a better listen. 

“Hurry up! If we aren’t on time with this shipment we don’t get our money!”, one of them yelled. He was muscular, tall, but not the man you were looking for. 

“We’ll make it, don’t worry. The Hood’s gonna get our payment. The shipment won’t be delayed.”

You scoffed at the mention of Red, annoyed that he had these fools believing it was worth betraying Black Mask just to dip into Red Hood’s protection.

The final trucks loaded with all the weapons inside, taking note of the time as they would head out soon. You moved closer to the door, following behind two of the shipment trucks as they pulled out of the warehouse. You planted a small tracker on the truck before silently moving back towards your motorcycle, following closely behind as the trucks went off through the secluded streets. The darkness and bareness of the roads make it easy to get through without being detected by any of the underground criminals or any of Gotham’s Police Force.

The trucks turned into a dark alley, your bike merging down the street to avoid being seen as you noticed they were heading towards a shipment dock. You stayed a good distance, knowing your destination was only a few meters ahead. Just as you managed to turn into the road, the crashing sound of metal scraping on asphalt and the dirt mixing into the air filled your senses. Your ears rang as you felt your arm burn from the road tearing into your skin. Blood dripped from your forehead, your arm burning from the sensation of raw flesh being ripped open. 

You lifted your body, struggling to focus as you turned to look at the very person you were here for. 

“Well, fancy seeing you here sweetheart.”, that distorted voice rang out as you stayed focused on him, your hand ready to reach for your pistol if necessary. “Did you come out here to find me?”

You tried to force your body off the ground, only to be met with the heavy weight of his combat boot kicking into your gut at full force, shoving you to the ground with another kick to your back. Your body twitched from the sudden impact but you quickly rolled out of the way, leaning on your arms as you pulled out your gun and aimed it at him. 

“Do you even know how to use that thing?”, he mocked, his muscular and ominous form standing over you like a predator ready to devour his prey. You were not this fucker’s prey. You were the hunter and he needed to be hunted. 

“Want to take your chances and find out?”, you spat back. 

“You sure have a smart mouth for someone at a disadvantage”

“What makes you think I’m at a disadvantage, asshole?”, you narrowed your eyes, daggers digging into him as you rose from the ground, your gun still pointed to the middle spot on his head.

One shot. 

That's all it would take to take him down.

He walked over to you with a swiftness, your body twisting as you tried to get out of his grasp and pushed yourself back but his brute force swallowed the space between you as he snapped his hand around the collar, bringing your face close to his as the red glow of his helmet illuminated under the moonlight. It gave him a murderous glow.

“Go home to master before I send you back in a body bag”, his threat was serious, you knew he was serious. He had decapitated 5 people in the span of a few hours. You knew he’d gladly send you back to Penguin dead just to send a message. 

You stared at him, jaw clenched as you felt the anger radiating off his body. You couldn’t see his face but you could tell you were the absolute last thing we wanted to deal with tonight.

“Too bad I don’t listen to wannabe crime lords. My connections come in high places.”, you spit out as he forced himself into your space.

“Your connections wont do anything for you once I snap your neck in half, so I suggest you stop with the smartass comments before I go ahead and send you back one limb at a time.”

You laughed at his comment. He was dangerous, lethal, could snap your neck in a second and you just laughed at him. 

“Why do you care so much about Black Mask’s crime ring? What do you have to gain from any of this?”

“Revenge. Payback. Pest control.” he warned. “The more of these lowlives I get rid of, the better, the faster I get my message to that psychopath the better. Even if it means chopping you up into pieces to get my message back to that fat pig”

You had enough of his empty threat. Three times and he still talks in circles. You quickly twisted your body, using your taser to shock him into letting you go and moving your body to land a hit to his stomach and another to his chest. Those kevlar plates were going to be the death of you. You needed to find an opening, anything to just draw some blood. You could get a sample and expose his identity in a few hours. 

He turned towards you, his body upright as he pulled out a serrated knife, ready to tear through flesh and rip you to shreds. His stance was guarded, ready to attack but the distance never closed.

“Haven’t you ever wondered why it’s you he sends out to do his dirty work?”, taunting you seemed to be his favorite method to try and get a rise out of you. “It’s because he doesn’t care about you. You’re replaceable, if you fail he can find someone else, you’re just another piece of shit lowlife who is being used to do the dirty work of the biggest kingpins in Gotham”, 

You narrowed your eyes at him, calculating your next move by observing your surroundings a little at a time, not letting him have the first move. 

“You think you’re special because you get to sit in on his little meetings? Because he pays you more? Trust me sweetheart, you’re anything but special. You mean just as much to him as the rats to run around in the sewers, you’re nothing.”

“You don’t know shit.”, you barked back, watching as he ran towards you and aimed his knife at you, the blade missing as you continued to move around, landing a few punches and kicks to his body, failing to slow him down. 

You focused on knocking the knife out of his hand, but his body was quick, almost super human. You were fast, but he seemed calculative, like he knew your next move even before you did. You lifted your leg to kick at him, his body moving as you continued to lunge at him and grab his knife. He pushed himself back, crossing his arms to block the full force hit you tried to deliver. You managed to close the gap, reaching to his belt as you felt the blade rid through your arm. 

You let out a grunt of pain, a second to recoil from the knife tearing through your flesh was all he needed to get you off guard. He shot his arm forward, tightening around your neck almost crushing your windpipe. You tried to force yourself out of his grasp but his grip tightened with every movement. He was suffocating you.

“Let’s see that face of yours”, he breathed before he grabbed the edge of your mask and ripping it off your face, revealing your face to him fully, red and sweaty from the fight you two just had. “Well, at least you’re easy on the eyes”, the humor in his voice angering you. 

“Go to hell..”, you struggled against his grip, feeling yourself lose oxygen again. 

“Sweetheart, we’re already there.” 

You were not about to get choked out by this son of a bitch twice in a row. You struggled agaisnt him, stopping when you heard the sound of nearby vehicles, the red and blue lights passing by down the street. 

It was Gotham PD. 

You took the split second of his hesitation to break from his grip, your body tumbling slightly from the lack of oxygen before you ran to your bike that had skidded only a few feet away. You quickly turned it on, pressing down on the gas, hoping to get away but when you turned around you could see him only a few meters behind you. 

That fucker. 

You turned down an alley before breaking through the window of an abandoned building, riding through it to the other side to get him off your trail. You needed to get rid of the loose end before you went home for the night. It was the only chance you had to get the money he promised you. 

The lights passed with every second, your gut instinct telling you to go down a dark alley. Once you turned, you heard Red’s bike go down a different alley, getting him off your trail for a split second. You pulled over to the path that led to the meeting area, abandoning your bike and climbing to the roof of the building across from the site. Far enough to not be seen, close enough to make the shot. 

You waited, noticing the men unloading the weaponry into the truck on the other side of the walk way. there. 

You watched silently from the room, watching as Black Mask’s traitor was talking to one of Red Hood’s partners. You recognized him from your background search, he had switched out of Carmine’s ring and started working under the Red Hood when he heard about the decapitation debacle. He didn’t want to be another dead body so instead he switched sides. 

You watched through your goggles, noticing the case. Probably over $100,000. Enough money to lock away and never have to come back to Gotham. One could only dream. 

You pulled out the sniper you had hidden away for trades like this. You had your own weapons hidden around Gotham for your night jobs. Only in places you could find. You aimed from the roof, waiting for the perfect moment to shoot. You only needed to get rid of the traitor, Red’s little buyer could live another day to warn his boss. 

You waited as the men turned away, your finger on the trigger waiting for the buyer to turn back towards the trucks. Just a few more feet. You felt your finger flex, you controlled your breathing, steadied yourself, and pressed the trigger. You saw his body go down. You quickly pulled away as you saw the men rush to the dead body. You quickly hid the sniper back between the boxes and ran to the other side of the building, jumping to the roof across and sliding down into the alley way. 

You felt your heart racing as the shouts behind you slowly started to fade and kept running until you found the alley where you had left your motorcycle. You hopped on and sped away from the scene, trying to reach the lounge to let the penguin know that the job was done. 

You headed towards the nearby bridge as a shortcut, only to hear a slight beeping below you. You screeched to a halt, leaning over to examine your bike to be met with a flashing red light. 

Mother fucker. 

You grabbed the tracker, pulling it off and crushing it under your boot. the annoyance eating you alive festered until you needed to punch something. You didn’t have time for this shit. You triple tapped the small transmitter on your wrist. A small signal letting the penguin know your job was complete. You looked behind you, feeling the sense of someone watching, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You got a small transmission back, Penguin confirmed. 

You hummed softly, turning back towards the road and heading back home. 

One Week Later 

“This brat has gotten two, TWO, of my operations shut down and I am losing money, Penguin! We need to get his pretty little body off the streets and in my trophy case or I will burn this entire city down.”, Roman had anger issues, severe anger issues, and he had no intent of trying to hide that fact. You tried to ignore him as you placed the last of the money in the bag and handed it back to Penguin, telling him the $50,000 count inside and he gave you $20,000 of what was inside. You grabbed the two bands and placed them inside your jacket before walking to the other room to grab the men a drink. 

You grabbed the top shelf scotch, bringing it back over and pouring the amber liquid into both of their glasses. You bent over and placed the glass down in front of Sionis, who looked at you with lustful eyes, and you returned his gaze, only you were glaring daggers at him. Silently he grabbed the glass before shooting it back and pouring some more. You couldn’t help but feel revolted by him, but you walked out of the room in slow strides, your hips moving side to side, already knowing that he was staring. 

“We need more patrols, more people out on the field. Whatever it takes to get this fucker off our shipments!”, Sionis growled as he slammed his amber glass down on the table in front of him. Penguin looked at him with an annoyed look, his body language tired of Black Mask’s antics.

“We’ll get the men we need, and I think we need to be more strategic than strength.”

You crossed your legs as you looked over Penguin’s shoulder. He had a folder with the name of one of the current operations on it. The kryptonite shipment. You’d heard Sionis and some of his partners talking about this multi-million dollar shipment. 

“If he gets in on this, I am gonna kill somebody. I don't care who.”, Black Mask grabbed the file and tucked it inside his suit pocket before heading towards the back door and leaving. 

“You know he’ll find a way to get in on that shipment, right?”, you muttered. Penguin stood, walking over to the office drawers and pulling out a small sheet of paper. He looked it over before walking back and giving it to you. 

“I don’t think he will.”, he smirked as your face contorted into shock as you read the paper's contents. 

“He.. How?”, the question left almost pleasingly. Penguin was spinning the small dial on the safe in the office, listening to each click as he put in the combination. 

“We found friends on the inside, it wasn't difficult to contact him and he’ll get back to us shortly.”, he pulled out a package, handing it to you as you opened it and examined the contents. 

You eyebrows furrowed at the information. 

“What’s this?”, you question. 

“His name is Calvi Calbera”, Penguin motioned. “He’s a luxury goods trader and has a hand in not only the black market but up scale Gotham trades too. He gets a lot of money from those luxury stores and rich clients from the upper city”

You raised an eyebrow at him. 

“I want you to convince him that having ties with me is beneficial. We get more streams of income from Upper Gotham, he gets business trade and protection. He’s stubborn, but this is his file. You can tail him as long as you need to do what you can”

“Is this related back to the Red Hood?”

“This has nothing to do with him. Consider it a side job I want you to do.”

“What if he already has protection and a business partnership?”, you quickly mentioned as you continued reading his file. 

He had some of the most expensive, luxury jewels under his name. Million dollar jewels. He was also a dangerous card to have in your hand, he had underground connections. This would be a great way to get the money you needed to disappear. 

“That’s what I’m worried about, but I trust you’ll find a way to convince him?”

“I can do my best”, you nodded at him. “Is there a timeline for this?”

Penguin shook his head, pouring himself another glass to drink. “No, I just want to have him on our list of ties, so take however long you need.”

You nodded again, shoving everything into the file neatly before tucking it into the inside pocket of your jacket. Watching as he disappeared into the office. It was still early, only around 2am. You went to the back and organized a few documents Penguin had received from Black Mask, looking through them and gaining more insight of the entire situation with Red Hood as a whole. 

Damn. 

He really had busted through two of Black Mask’s operations, killed more than 13 of his men, stole more than 20 of his workers, and burned down two of his warehouses. Carmine was also getting hits on his operations. 20 men killed, 15 workers taken, loss of $50k in profits. 

You skimmed through some of the papers in another cabinet, pulling out everything on Penguin’s partners, their ties and where they’ve had losses. 

Red Hood really was doing a number on these organized crime rings. Dipped his foot into each one and stole men, territory, and money. It surprised you how much ground he’d covered since he came out of nowhere. 

You finished looking at the files, placing them back neatly in the filing cabinet and headed to your small locker holding your personal belongings. Just as you were about to close the small door you heard a shuffling sound from Penguin’s office. Your senses on high alert. 

You grabbed the door handle, lightly turning it before pushing the door in and seeing the Boss being held at gunpoint. Your blood boiled at the sight. 

This piece of…

“Well, how unexpected”, Red voiced out, humor in his voice. How did this man get in the hidden lounge area?!

“Y/n. Come in. Come meet our… guest.”, he said nonchalantly, your eyes focused on him as you burned with annoyance. He couldn’t just leave you alone and stay on his side of things. What a fucking nuisance. 

You watched as Red focused on you, his gun still pointed as Penguin sat in his chair. You flickered your gaze to Penguin quickly before looking back at Red, noticing how he walked towards you. He towered over you, his muscular build guarded in kevlar made him seem bigger but you knew he was strong. You’d gone head to head with him twice already. He was a powerhouse of a man. 

You moved back slightly when his hand rose, pushing a piece of hair out of your face. You didn’t break eye contact, you needed him to know you wouldn’t back down from him and the possibility of him harming your Boss. You looked over to Penguin, giving you a look, blinking twice, and said nothing.  

A simple signal, but one that let you know he had already alerted the guards. You looked at the masked man, before he turned to the Boss and spoke out. 

“She’s a pretty one, Penguin.”

This motherfucker. Pulling this shit again.

You thought silently, before standing up and turning towards the door, the Red Hood looked at you intently. 

“Don’t move.”, you heard a gun cocking and stopped. You already knew he had his handgun pointed at you. Your intuition alerting you to move out of the way, especially since you knew the guards would be here in less than ten seconds. 

You turned to look at the Red Hood, his gun pointed at you while he had the other pointed at Penguin. you heard the click to the door, and you were sure he didn’t hear it.

In one fluid motion you pulled out your gun and shot at him, which missed and he shot back at you but you had jumped out of the way and the guards came in, blocking the exit. He shot at the both of them and they pulled their own pistols out. The room was big enough for the four of them to face off, but Red jumped over the two of them. Running out the door and closing it behind him. 

He ran past you, and you saw him go out through the side door, and you pushed yourself off the ground and ran towards the door. You ran behind him, placing your gun on the inside of your shorts, seeing the man run and turn around to glance at you. You weren’t too far behind him, your stamina good enough to keep up, but not sure if you’d be able to stop him without the use of your gun. 

He ran through the hallway but ignored the stairs leading outside but took the ladder out the window to the roof. You saw him jump through the window of the second story and cling to the ladder, you jumped out and grabbed the side, slipping a little, and holstered yourself up. You both reach the roof and you were able to pull out your gun and shoot at his feet, making his trip just a little bit enough for you to catch up and push your leg through his and trip him over completely. 

He rolled on the ground and you pushed yourself on him. Your leg on his chest and your gun pointing at him. You heard him groan before he looked up at you. 

“You’re pretty fast, sweetheart. You sure you know how to use that thing?”, his voice was deep, you could tell even through the voice changer. You cocked an eyebrow at him before scoffing. 

“Do you want to find out?”, you answered back. You could hear the guards yelling, noticing the broken window below. There was only a minute before they would try and come up here, or ask you if you caught the hooded vigilante. 

“Looks like you finally have the upper hand. Tell me Y/n, what are you doing working for Penguin knowing he’ll never use your full potential?”, he asked, and you pushed your foot onto his arm to keep him from talking. He groaned a little and you didn’t falter. 

“That’s nothing you should concern yourself with. Tell me Red, why risk going after the big dogs when you can barely keep up?”

“I think I’m keeping up pretty well”, he mocks. You narrowed your eyes at him, your gun still aimed at his head. You kept his gaze, locked on him as you contemplated in your head. 

“(Y/n)! Are you there?”, you looked behind you before yelling back. 

“Yeah. I’m here!”

“Did you get him? The Red Hood!”

“Yeah, doll. Did you?”, you narrowed your eyes. You knew the price on his head was more than enough to get you out of this city. Enough to survive for the next five years if need be, but there was something that tipped you off. There was a tug in your gut, you couldn’t be sure if it was worth it and yet… 

“(Y/N)!”

A moment of hesitation and you pushed yourself off of the Red Hood, yelling back, “No, he got away!”

You stood and he stayed laying there for a moment before he also rose to his feet, his gaze still locked on you. What were you doing?

“I’ll be down, go tell Boss to warn Black Mask and Carmine!”, they yelled back a simple okay and with that they left. 

“How sweet of you.”

“I’m not doing this for you. I have my reasons” you answered harshly before uncocking your fun and placing it back in the small holster on your waist. 

“Does this have to do with that ugly faced Black Mask?”, he asked, cocking his head as he rolled his shoulders. 

You narrow your eyes at him, hesitating before answering. “It doesn’t matter who or why. Go before you make me regret not having our men torture you”

He laughed. “Our men. Sweetheart, those are Penguin’s men. There you go again assuming you’re of some value to that fat bird.”

“You underestimate me, Red”, you said through clenched teeth. Anger radiating off of you like fire. “Go before I end up shooting you” 

“Always so protective of the men that own you”, he said under his breath. 

You pulled your gun out again swiftly, pushing it under his jaw and holding his gaze with your own. “I don’t belong to anyone motherfucker. Now leave before I fucking shoot you”, you growled. He raised his hands, showing a simple surrender. 

“Okay, noted.”

“Why play such a risky game? You know you’ll get caught eventually.”, you looked at him and he shrugged, “Never been caught before. I think I’ll be alright”. 

You couldn’t tell if this man was being serious or if he was just taunting you. Most people who were raised on the streets knew how to hold their own, so you expected that he would know too and was just another power hungry nobody. 

“Okay fucker. Now leave before I put a bullet through that brain of yours”

The man took a long stride towards you, the gloss of the helmet obviously ruined, but still a bright crimson red that made him noticeable in a crowd. You could sense his breath, steady and controlled but gave away that he had no real intent to hurt you. He was painfully close, but working somewhere like the club, you were used to the invasion of privacy time and time again. 

“Sweetheart”, you looked at him, raising your head a little since you were far shorter than him, “Don’t start something you won’t be able to finish.”, he challenged.

“And what if I can?”, you countered just as fast. He stared at you, before stepping back, your heart beating in your chest. 

“I’d be more than interested to see that, but your master is calling.”, you glared at him, and not even two seconds later, your small alarm went off, indicating Penguin’s call. You looked at the Red Hood who placed both guns in his holster that seemed to wrap around his muscular thighs perfectly, cursing yourself for even noticing his build in the first place. 

“Well, (Y/n), can’t wait for our next date.”, he said before jumping off the roof and heading towards the opposite direction of the club. You stayed a moment longer before heading back down towards the Boss’s room.  

A/N:

I received such great response to my prologue for this series and I am very excited to keep it going. I’ll be posting updates every week on either Fridays or Saturdays depending on my work load! If i’m delayed or cannot post on those days I will post saying so. Please be patient as I am also in Uni and am doing this series as a way to distract myself from school and have a little hobby that is fun for me. I do have chapters planned a week in advance so I can keep a good posting schedule. But again, please be patient with me!

I love writing these so and I hope you enjoy reading them!

[thatfreshi]

We Never Cease Being Lucky (Astarion x Reader)

TW - anxiety attack

Recommended Song: Renee - Sales

You absolutely adore birthdays. Although, you haven't celebrated yours since you met Astarion on that godforsaken beach. You remember asking when his is, as you do with everyone. He trailed off, distant.

"I... I don't quite remember."

You never asked about it again, but that sadness kept you in a chokehold. How could you go so long without celebrating your birthday? It's not fair, to not be able to celebrate life, to have that ripped away from you.

Once you end your adventures, you buy a house together, free from all the past pains, dancing on hardwood floors far from anything that ever hurt you. You still live in Baldur's Gate though, and you realize something one day while lying in bed.

"Aster, you were born here, right?"

"Of course, never left, well until I was taken."

You smirk, a little plan unfolding in your mind.

"I know what we're going to do this evening."

It's not often you have a suspicious smile across your face. He's curious.

"Well my love, please do tell."

"We're going to break into the courthouse!"

He laughs, sitting up to stretch, letting go of the slumber.

"Adorable. As far as I recall, we're done with our silly little adventures."

You just stare at him, and he realizes you're serious.

"Wait, why do you want to break into the courthouse?"

"It's a secret!"

"I feel as though it's hardly fair to ask for my assistance if you're not even going to tell me why."

"Well, it's for you. You'll see."

"Alright then, I revoke my complaints. Breaking into the courthouse, sounds great."

He used to be a lot more secretive about it, but he loves when you do things on his behalf. You don't often get such an opportunity, but tonight, tonight you finally get to give him something he's been missing for so long. Of course, as long as everything goes to plan. You tell him to grab a few lockpicks, and the two of you head out into the darkness.

"Sooooo, you can't even give me the slightest hint as to what you're up to?"

"Nope, but at least now you know it involves your very own specialty: sneaky criminal activity."

"Now, I think I have quite a few other far more interesting specialties, but I guess I'm just a glorified key to you."

He scoffs.

"No, you're just really good at getting into places quietly, and I think if I did this by myself I'd probably get arrested, and I definitely don't need you bailing me out considering you'd hold it over my head forever."

"Well you're right about that."

You give him a playful shove, and he trips on a loose cobblestone.

"Okay, rude. Maybe I'll turn you in anyways, say you were trying to involve me in some illegal heist against my will."

"But if you do that, you don't get your surprise!"

"Ugh, fine. I'll play along."

You shush him as you get closer to your target. There's a sleeping guard posted outside, one that the two of you successfully sneak past, finding a side entrance.

"Do you have any idea where this door leads?"

"Nope."

You smile at him, and he rolls his eyes.

"You're asking me to open a lock and you have no idea what's behind it? You clearly are not as masterful of a thief as you used to be."

He starts to pick away at the lock anyways.

"Well, I have been in retirement for a little bit."

At the end of your sentence, you hear that final click, and he opens the door. When the two of you get inside, it's pitch black, all the candles and oil lamps burnt out.

"Do you see any signs that say Records?"

"No, what would I possibly want with the city's records?"

"You'll see! Gods, just let me do something nice."

"It seems like I'm doing most of the work so far..."

"It's fine. Once we find the records room I can do the rest. You're just helping."

He can't resist that grin of yours, clearly excited by your mysterious plans. Astarion gives in, sighing as if he's bothered, but the two of you continue to look for the records room. Eventually, you turn a corner to yet another locked door. You bat your eyes at him, and he goes to work once again.

"You owe me after this."

"Please my love, I'm telling you you're gonna be so excited!"

"If you insist my dear."

He gets the second door unlocked, ushering you inside. He casts fire, lighting up a nearby candelabra. You're met with bookshelves stacked high with pieces of paper loosely put together, turning more golden and tattered as you look to your left.

"This is it!"

You immediately start to look at the dates on the records, finding the range of about two centuries ago. Without a care for the organization, you quickly flip through years and years of records, looking for anything that could be a birth record.

"Darling, I thought the point was to sneak in here, not throw papers all over the floor and have someone know we were here."

You ignore him, becoming a little desperate to find what you're looking for. The text is fading on some of these documents, making it hard to know they're not his. He crouches down on the floor beside you, realizing you're stressing out about this unknown objective.

"Hey, hey, Tav. What's wrong?"

You start to tear up a little, thinking this would be so simple, that this stuff wouldn't be so carelessly stacked on shelves.

"I can't- I can't find it."

You throw the stack of papers on the floor, wiping a tear off your cheek.

"I know you're trying to do something nice for me my sweet, but maybe if you told me what you're looking for, I could help you."

You sniffle, trying not to go into a full sob.

"I- I wanted to-"

You choke up, almost unable to speak. He takes your hands in his.

"Breathe Tav, breathe. In, and out."

You listen to him, trying your best to just inhale and exhale. You didn't think this attempt was going to lead to an anxiety attack, but luckily he's dealt with plenty himself. Your breath steadies as you tightly grab his hands.

"Now, what are you looking for?"

"I... I was trying to see if I could find your birth certificate. You know, since we don't know when your birthday is and all, I thought it might be nice to know. I feel so bad, it just passes every year and you're none the wiser."

He's dumbfounded, shock in his eyes, almost a little confused. You were having an anxiety attack just now because you weren't going to find when his birthday is?

"Darling, I... that's very sweet, but nothing worth this much stress. I haven't even thought about it in years."

"Yeah, but I just really love birthdays, and I just wanted a day where we could celebrate you, you know?"

"I appreciate that sentiment, truly, but if we can't find it, it's okay. You tried, and that's enough. Besides, what's the point in keeping something almost three centuries old at this point?"

"I don't know, I thought that was their job, to keep old shit."

You look at the scattered papers, and he follows your gaze. Something catches his eye, a document sitting to your left.

"Wait, look at that one."

You turn, picking up the piece of paper and holding it in the light of the flame.

"Holy shit."

He sits himself on your shoulder, looking at the writing with you.

"Gods, I really am that old."

You smile, another small tear falling.

"Aster, look. It's tomorrow."

He continues to read, eyes crossing the date again.

"We never cease being lucky, do we?"

"No, I guess we don't."

You turn to kiss his cheek, and then roll up the paper, putting it in your bag.

"Wait, you can't just take that!"

"Why not? Means more to us than them."

You simply shrug and he shakes his head, almost in disappointment. You clearly had no intention of making it seem like you weren't here. He doesn't stop you though, as he can't deny he'd like to keep his birth certificate as well.

"Thank you my dear, for always thinking of me."

"There's nothing more important I could think of."

[mychemicalrachel]

THE LONGEST NIGHT

part one!!!!

Part Two.

The not-prostitute's name was Parrish and he had the prettiest face Ronan had ever seen, coupled with the most obnoxious demeanor. It began as stolen glances from across the cell while Parrish– at least that's what they called him when they brought him in and tossed him in holding– reiterated again and again and again that he, unlike these other hardened criminals, did not belong here. Ronan was pretty sure he was in love, if not with Parrish then at least with his smile. It was a nice smile, almost as nice as his scowl.

“Racing,” Ronan said. “Got caught doing 110 in a 55.”

“That's fast,” Parrish remarked and Ronan was certain he looked at his mouth when he did. Then he sucked his teeth. “Too bad you still lost.”

A startled laugh pushed its way up Ronan's throat. This Parrish guy was an asshole. Ronan looked at his mouth again. Perfectly curved cupid's bow, straight teeth, slightly pointed canines that would leave delicious marks on Ronan's skin. “Who says I lost?”

“You're here,” Parrish said. “Which means you were slow enough to get caught.”

He laughed again and Parrish smiled. Ronan would throw a thousand races just to see that smile again, which was an insane thing to think when they’d just met. They didn’t know one another, and yet Ronan felt like they had been destined to meet. Maybe in another life, they were soulmates, bound together by true love, fated to find each other in every life after.

The Catholic in Ronan winced. It was too fucking late to be considering the possibility of reincarnation and the merits of meeting his soulmate in a jail cell. And yet, the blue of Parrish’s eyes had captivated him, struck him down like a bolt of lightning, and reinvigorated him in a way Ronan didn’t know was possible. Hell, he didn’t even know Parrish’s first name. He wondered what that said about his standards.

“What if we got out of here,” Ronan said, his voice low so Parrish had to lean closer to hear, “and then I show you how fast I can really go.”

“Yeah,” Parrish said. “Yeah. I’ll tell you what, man–”

“Ronan,” he offered, “Lynch.”

“Well, Lynch. If you can get me out of here, I’ll go anywhere you’d like.”

Just the thing Ronan wanted to hear. He slapped his hand down on Parrish’s knee when he stood up. A long time ago, when he’d spent his first night sleeping off a hangover in a cell, he expected the bars to be cold. Now Ronan knew that the metal sucked up all the heat in the room, the heavy snores from the guard and the sighs of the prisoners, holding it captive, so hot it could almost burn. Grabbing onto the bars, Ronan shook them until they ratted.

“Yo, Chuck!” he yelled. “Chucky, my man! Lemme out of this shithole!”

Across the room, the chair under Deputy Dumbass creaked. He groaned when he stood up. “Chrissake, Lynch,” he said. “I told you not to call me that.”

“Let me out now and I promise I’ll never call you Chucky again.”

“Oh, you promise, do you?” Chucky raised a dubious eyebrow. He was willing to play along, even if he knew it was a promise Ronan could never keep.

“Scout’s honor.”

“You weren’t no goddamn boy scout. Back up.”

Ronan backed up. The cell wasn’t very big. Henrietta didn’t need a huge department when most of the local crime was confined to speeding and bar fights. The guys in here were regulars– Ronan saw them more than he saw his own family. They weren’t talkers and they didn’t ask questions, so Ronan enjoyed their company– until he didn’t.

Chucky unlocked the door and swung it open, letting Ronan step out.

“Go,” he gestured with the ring of keys. “Get, before I change my mind.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” Ronan stopped. “But I want to take him with me.”

Looking back in the direction Ronan’s slender finger pointed, Chucky frowned. “Can’t do that,” he said. “Gotta see a judge first. Picked that one up on a count of solicitation–”

Huh. So Parrish had been telling the truth about that.

“Come on, Chuck,” Ronan said. He looked again at Parrish, the innocence in his wide eyes, the dirty khaki pants. He looked like he should’ve been in a pamphlet for community college, not sitting awkwardly between two dudes who looked like they’d escaped a ZZ Top cover band. “Look at him and tell me he’s a motherfucking hooker.”

“Can’t judge a book by its cover,” Chuck said.

“Chucky. He’s wearing a sweater vest. You ever seen a prostitute in a sweater vest?”

Chucky considered it. It was possible, of course, if he had been soliciting a very niche group of individuals. Eventually, he sighed. “If I let him go, will you get out of my office faster?”

“You won’t even see me leave.”

He groaned some more, but gestured for Parrish to get up. He pointed a finger at Ronan, threatening, “Do not make me regret this, Lynch. Keep your nose clean. And keep his clean while you're at it.”

But Ronan had already grabbed Parrish by the wrist, dragging him toward the door, gone before Chuck could change his mind.

Parrish, to Ronan’s surprise, followed quietly until they got to the parking lot. By the time they reached the BMW, parked illegally in a handicap space, Parrish had slowed, then stopped, seemingly trying to gather his wits.

“Uh,” he said eloquently, “what the hell just happened?”

Ronan raised his arms, motioning to the car and the mostly vacant lot around them. “I just got you out.”

“Yeah. How? Did you bribe a cop?”

Bribery didn’t work on cops around here. Too many obnoxious rich kids more than willing to pay off the local fuzz. Unfortunately, money did not buy everything, but it did help.

“My brother bailed me out hours ago. So about that ride…”

“Hmm, no,” Parrish waved his hand, like he was attempting to erase Ronan. “Go back. What do you mean your brother already bailed you out? You were free to go anytime you wanted and you just… didn't?”

“Sleeping in a cell beat the alternative,” Ronan unlocked the car with the keys he swiped off Chuck's desk. “Going home meant I had to listen to my brother bitch.”

“What kind of psychopath would rather take a nap in a jail cell rather than just talk to their own brother?”

“It's not about being a psychopath,” he explained. “It's the fact that I got caught, remember? And my brother is the asshole who was faster than me. Anyways,” Ronan climbed into the BMW, starting the engine. Through the open passenger window, he looked at Parrish. Even in the dark, with an incredulous look painted on his pretty features, he was a sight to behold. “Night's not getting any younger, Parrish. You coming or not?”

He didn't know what the plan was if Parrish said no. He'd hitchhike back to his car, allegedly broke down in the middle of nowhere, and Ronan would kill time driving in circles before making his way back home.

In the end, he didn't have to find out.

“My mother taught me it wasn't safe to get into cars with strangers,” Parrish said, though his lips turned up, curled with blatant, unmistakable flirtation. He was enjoying this game just as much as Ronan. “How do I know you're not a serial killer?”

He could turn it around and ask the same question, but he knew that he would probably go anyway even if Parrish did turn out to be a serial killer. Ronan’s answering grin was razor sharp, dangerous and delicious and charming. “I guess you'll just have to trust me.”

Parrish pretended to think about it a second more before opening the door and climbing in.

[wonderswritings]

Starless Lovers {10}

Summary: They fell from the sky. We roamed the earth. We were always meant to clash.  Warnings: The 100 Themes, Angst, Death, Blood, Unrequited Feelings, Slow Burn, Possibly more to come Pairings: Lexa x Sister!Reader, Bellamy Blake x Fem!Reader (eventual)

War has always been brewing. With twelve clans, each with different ideals, it was always going to happen. But tensions rise when they come, the people from the sky. We watched from a distance, learning. But then they attacked, and if there's one thing all the clans can agree on, Blood must have blood.

Starless Lovers Masterlist | Tags

There is only one more chapter left of Starless Lovers Season 2! I am so, so sorry for such a late update! Work has been kicking my ass and I've had zero motivation to write.

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Bellamy’s chest heaved as he ran into the room, taking a few deep breaths before he made his way to Echo’s cage, unlocking it.

“Get up. It’s time to go. I told you I’d come back for you. Come on out. Our people are marching on Mount Weather right now.”

Bellamy unlocked the next cage, helping the grounder out.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re getting you out.”

Echo shook her head, grabbing onto the grounder.

“Slow down. They just bled him.”

Bellamy shook his head, looking over at Echo. 

“Listen to me. There’s an army inside this room, and I need you to help me get them ready to fight. Can you do that?”

Echo nodded, clenching her jaw. 

“Good, start with him.”

The others still in the cages started to scream and yell, causing Bellamy to shake his head.

“Too much noise.”

With one look from Echo they all stopped, Echo looking over at Bellamy.

“Ok, how do we do this?”

“There’s an army outside going for the main door. When they get it open, all hell will break loose. That is the signal for my friends to come here and-”

Bellamy stopped talking when the speakers cut on, glancing up at them. 

“My fellow citizens, this is your president speaking. I have news to share with you that will change all of our lives forever. For ninety-seven years, Mount Weather has been our home. It’s kept us alive, but it has also held us captive. Most of us have made peace with what we’ve had to survive. We’ve done these things for one reason, so that our people could someday return to the ground. That day is today.”

Bellamy’s eyes widened as she scoffed slightly, shaking his head.

“He’s going public.”

“Before my friend Lorelei Tsing was murdered by the outsiders still at large in this mountain, she found a cure. It was in their bone marrow.” 

Bellamy turned, handing Echo the keys.

“Here, I’ll be back.”

“Where are you going?”

“He’s trying to get his people to turn on each other. They’ll find my friends. I have to bring them here, now. I’ll send them in groups. You get your people ready to go, but you wait for me to come back, do you understand?”

Echo nodded, causing Bellamy to nod once before he turned, rushing towards the door when Echo called out to him.

“Wait! Thank you!”

Bellamy nodded, clenching his jaw.

“You free your people, protect mine when they get here. We can thank each other when we’re all outside.”

“This has been the dream of our people since the bombs, but to reach it now, I need your help. The forty-four criminals that irradiated level five, killing fifteen of our people, are now keeping us from that dream. Although we’ve repaired our home, we can never replace the lives that were so viciously taken from us, and, as hard as it is to believe, there are those among us who would help the people who did this, and I am speaking to you now. If you truly want to end the blood treatments once and for all, then the forty-four murderers you’re now hiding are the key to doing that. You have one hour to turn them in without punishment. After that, we’ll be forced to consider you enemies of the state. I’m asking you, please, do what’s right for your people, our people, so that we can all take our rightful place on the ground. We’re almost home.”

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Everything passed by you in a blur as the guards transported you and the doctor to one of the other floors. You couldn’t make out what they were saying, your ears ringing for some time as you looked around, the lights flashing above you. You turned your head to the side, heavily blinking when you saw someone at the corner of the hall, wearing what looked to be a guard's uniform. They ducked around the corner when your group passed them, sticking to the shadows. Your vision was blurry, but you couldn’t help but feel like you recognized the guard. The ceiling spun again as you were wheeled into a room, a bright light overhead as the doctor appeared in your vision.

“Don’t worry. It’ll all be over soon. You won’t even feel a thing.”

A cold sensation spread throughout your body as your eyes involuntarily fell closed.

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

“Welcome, Skaikru. Join us.”

Those in the guard who came, walked into the tent, eyeing the grounders as David walked towards Clarke.

“A package, from Raven. Hydrazine. She said it would do the job.” “Good.” “And uh, your mother wanted to be here, too.”

Clarke nodded slightly, a slight smile on her face.

“I know, but the wounded in Tondc need her more.”

Lexa stepped forward slightly, looking around the tent.

“Field commanders, today’s the day we get our people back. The enemy thinks it’s safe behind its doors, but it’s not. When it realizes that, it will fight back… Hard. We need to be ready.”

Lexa turned her head, looking at Clarke, nodding once.

“This is a rescue mission. We are not here to wipe them out. There are people inside that mountain that have helped us, children who have nothing to do with this war. We kill their soldiers, their leadership if we have to, but we are there to rescue our people. Is that clear?”

There was a small murmur of agreement.

“Then let's begin.”

Clarke walked towards the war table.

“There are 4 teams. Two of them... at the dam and in the mine... are moving into position already. The third... inside the mountain... is freeing the Grounder prisoners as we speak. It is our job as the fourth team to keep the eyes of the enemy off of them for as long as possible. To do that, we have to be in position here at the main door with our entire army. The mountain men believe the door can't be opened from the outside, so they leave it unguarded. Only it can be, and thanks to our source on the inside, now we know how. According to Maya, the electromagnetic locking system has one flaw. When the power goes out, it disengages. That's where Raven's team comes in. The mountain's electricity is generated at Philpott Dam. By now, they've taken the turbine room. It’s their job to blow the power. Once they do, we blow the lock. There is a catch, a backup generator inside the mountain. If the lock is still functioning when that backup power kicks in, we'll never get that door open, we'll never get our people back.”

“How much time do we have until the backup power kicks in?”

Clarke looked over at David.

“One minute. That’s the window.”

“Small window. Why don't we just take out the backup generator, too? Bellamy's inside. Have him do it.”

“Leaving them without power that long would kill them all, and as I said, that’s not the mission. Besides, we lost contact with Bellamy.”

Monroe stepped forward, looking at Clarke.

“What? We did? When?”

“After he took out the acid fog.”

“Bellamy’s a warrior.”

Clarke looked back at Lexa as she spoke.

“He’ll be fine.”

“As the commander said, once the door is open, the shooting will start, and they'll throw everything they have at us, but that's what we want. We want them looking at us because while we're fighting at the front door, Indra's team will be escorting the prisoners out the back, right through the reaper tunnels. Once all our people are free, they'll sound the retreat. We'll be back home before Mount Weather even knows they're gone, and that's it. That's the plan.”

Clarke walked back to where Lexa and Lincoln stood, Lexa looking at the reactions of those in the tent before she stepped forward.

“The mountain has cast a shadow over these woods for too long. They've hunted us, controlled us, turned us into monsters. That ends today. Thanks to our alliance with the Sky People, the mountain will fall. As Clarke said, we spare the innocent. As for the guilty... Jus dren jus daun.”

The grounders started to  cheer along, Clarke joining in.

“Jus dren jus daun!”

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

When you came to, you were no longer tied to the bed. Looking around, you didn’t recognize the room, not in the same room they had moved you too earlier. Shakingly, you tried to stand, only to fall back down due to the size of the cage you were in. You growled, grabbing the bars of the cage, shaking them, trying to force them open. You glared when they didn’t open, only succeeding in rattling the cage. You kicked your leg out, groaning in pain as you kicked the door of the cage when you heard something, causing you to look around, trying to find something you could use as a weapon, though the room you were in was bare.

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Bellamy ran down the hall, a group of guards chasing after him. He came to a fork in the hall, choosing to run down the hall on the left. He ran into the first room, shutting the door, waiting. After a few minutes, he sighed, relaxing slightly as he looked around the room, his eyes widening.

“Riheda?”

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

You tensed as the door to the room was flung open, watching as a guy ran in, shutting the door, tense. You moved back in the cage when he turned to you, his eyes widening.

“Riheda?”

You glared at him as he walked towards you, tilting your head to the side.

“Bellamy?”

He nodded, lowering the gun he held, stopping in front of the cage.

“What are you doing here?”

You watched him as he tried to open the cage.

“They took me, killed my guard on the way to Tondc. Is it true, they bombed Tondc?”

Bellamy looked at you, nodding slightly.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. But your sister is still alive, and so is the army. The attack, it’s happening now.”

You nodded slightly, relieved that Lexa had survived.

“Will you get me out?”

Bellamy nodded, pulling harder on the cage door.

“I will.”

He looked over at you, nodding slightly.

“Get back, as far as you can go.”

Nodding, you moved to the corner of the cage. You jumped when he fired his gun, the sound echoing as he shot the lock.

“Come on, we’ve gotta get out of here, they’ll have heard the gunshot.”

Nodding, you crawled out of the cage, Bellamy helping you climb out. Your legs gave out as soon as you stood, Bellamy slightly making a face before he bent down, picking you up, carrying you out of the room.

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

“Chil yo daun!” (stand down)

Clarke turned, watching as Lexa walked down the hill, Emerson behind her.

“What is this?”

“Hey, look! They’re coming out!”

Clarke turned, seeing the wounded coming out before she turned back towards Lexa.

“They’re surrendering?”

“Not quite.”

Clarke glanced at Emerson, seeing the grin on his face as he looked over at Lexa, Clarke looking back at Lexa.

“What did you do?”

“What you would have done. Saved my people.”

“Where are my people?”

“I’m sorry Clarke. They weren’t part of the deal.”

Emerson grinned as he stepped forward, Lexa cutting the rope around his wrists before he turned, walking towards the opened door.

“You made the right choice, Commander.”

Lincoln walked towards Clarke and Lexa, looking between them both.

“What is this?”

“Your Commander’s made a deal.”

“What about the prisoners from the Ark?”

“They’ll all be killed… But you don’t care about that, do you?”

“I do care, Clarke, but I made this choice with my head and not my heart. The duty to protect my people comes first.”

“And what about your sister? What about Esmeray?”

Emerson grinned as he stopped at the door, yelling out.

“The Dark Commander isn’t with us.”

Lexa looked back at Clarke, nodding slightly.

“She too, would understand. She would also choose our people.”

“Please, don’t do this.”

“I’m sorry, Clarke.”

“Commander, not like this. Let us fight.”

“No. The deal is done.”

Lexa turned slightly, nodding.

“Teik oso rowenes laud.” (sound the retreat)

The grounder turned, blowing into the horn as Lexa looked up at Lincoln.

“You, too.”

The grounders turned, cheering as they started to leave.

“All our people withdraw. Those are the terms.”

“They’ll be slaughtered. Let me help them.”

“Teik em au.” (take him)

Grounders moved towards Lincoln, one grabbing his arm, Lincoln turning and fighting them when they knocked him out. Clarke watched, looking over at Lexa, tears in her eyes as Lexa spoke.

“We will meet again.”

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Starless Lovers Tags: @kloy344  @bxnnywatts @kibumslatina @smol-book-nerd @newbooksmell777 @bamboozledbooks

Everything Tags: @jedi-dreea  @sammysgirl1997 @scarlett-witchhh @cevans-winchester @rafecameronswhore @jennmurawski13-writes 

The 100 Tags: @3leni  @topazy  @vxidnik  @kloy344 @lexajaye  @dani5216 @kelseyd07  @bxnnywatts @thebookisbtr  @kibumslatina @cryinghotmess @smol-book-nerd @mariaenchanted  @rafecameronswhore  @multi-fandom-lover7667 

Lexa Tags: @kloy344  @wonielover @bamboozledbooks @rafecameronswhore

Bellamy Blake Tags: @topazy  @vxidnik  @hftff-lol  @lexajaye  @dani5216  @im-sidney  @kelseyd07  @wonielover  @bxnnywatts @daisy-the-quake  @mariaenchanted  @bamboozledbooks @rafecameronswhore  @multi-fandom-lover7667

[cynic-spirit]

Cold heart hot coffee ii

As Yn walked down the street with her sister Maya, the two chatted animatedly, their voices mingling with the sounds of the bustling city around them. Unbeknownst to Yn, Jonathan Pine watched from a distance, his gaze fixed on her with a mix of curiosity and affection.

Maya, ever the playful tease, was determined to get a rise out of Yn. “So, this guy who’s been treating you to coffee every morning for two months,” she began, a mischievous glint in her eye, “he can’t just want to be your ‘friend,’ can he?”

Yn’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink as she considered the question. “Is he handsome?” Maya pressed.

Yn blushed even deeper, her smile widening. “Very.”

Maya’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Is he rich?”

Yn hesitated before replying, “I think so.”

Maya’s teasing grin grew broader. “Well, girl! Just hold his face, kiss him, and say ‘I do!’”

Yn nudged her sister with an elbow, laughing despite herself. “Maya!”

The two burst into a fit of laughter, their playful banter filling the air. Maya’s teasing was light-hearted, but Yn’s genuine smile and blush were more telling. The conversation left Yn with a mix of emotions, her heart fluttering at the thought of Jonathan and the possibilities that lay ahead.

As they continued down the street, Yn couldn’t help but think about Jonathan, about the depth of her feelings for him, and the future that seemed both exciting and uncertain. Little did she know, Jonathan’s heart was already set on her, and he was determined to make her a part of his world, no matter the obstacles.

Jonathan Pine could be cold and calculating, a man who rarely let his guard down. But when it came to Yn, there was a noticeable shift in his demeanor. His usually piercing blue eyes softened whenever he looked at them, and the sharp edges of his personality seemed to smooth out.

No matter how intense or dangerous the situation, Jonathan always treated Yn with the utmost respect and care. He would hold the door open for them, pull out their chair, and make sure they were always comfortable, even in the most unlikely places. When they spoke, he listened intently, giving them his full attention as if nothing else in the world mattered.

In private moments, away from the chaos of his world, Jonathan would allow himself to relax around Yn. He would smile more easily, the tension in his shoulders easing as they talked or simply sat together in silence. He would never raise his voice to them, never let the darkness of his life touch them. To Yn, he was always the gentleman—kind, considerate, and protective.

He might be feared by many, but to Yn, Jonathan Pine was a man they could trust, a man who would do anything to keep them safe.

Each morning, Yn would step into the cozy little barista, the scent of freshly brewed coffee welcoming her as she crossed the threshold. No matter how early she arrived, Jonathan Pine was always there, seated at the corner table by the window. His presence had become a comforting constant in her daily routine.

As she entered, their eyes would meet, and Jonathan's usual steely gaze would soften, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He would rise slightly from his chair, ever the gentleman, as she approached. There was always a cup of her favorite coffee waiting for her, a thoughtful gesture that had become a silent ritual between them.

Their conversations were easy, flowing naturally despite the stark differences in their worlds. Jonathan seemed to relish these moments of normalcy, where the weight of his criminal empire could be left at the door. With Yn, he was different—warmer, more open. He listened as she talked about her classes, her dreams, her life. In return, he shared pieces of himself, though always careful to shield her from the darker aspects of his existence.

As they spent more time together, a quiet bond began to form, growing stronger with each passing day. There was a mutual understanding between them, unspoken yet undeniable. They were drawn to each other, their connection deepening with every shared glance, every soft laugh, every word exchanged in the quiet corners of the barista.

Jonathan Pine, the man who could command a room with just a look, was content to simply sit and listen to Yn, to be the one waiting for her each morning. And Yn, who had never imagined her path would cross with someone like him, found herself looking forward to those moments more than she cared to admit.

Those ten minutes each morning had become a lifeline for both Yn and Jonathan. For Yn, it was a brief escape from the pressures of her day, a moment of calm before the storm of her classes. She found herself smiling more, anticipating the quiet conversations and the comforting presence of Jonathan waiting for her at their usual spot.

For Jonathan, those ten minutes were something far more profound. In a world where he had to be ruthless, calculating, and always in control, the time he spent with Yn was a rare reprieve. It was the only time of the day when he could let down his guard, even if just a little, and feel something other than the cold detachment that his life demanded. Those moments with Yn kept him tethered to his humanity, reminding him that there was more to life than power and control.

Every morning, as the clock ticked closer to their meeting time, Jonathan would feel a quiet anticipation building within him. The knowledge that he would soon see Yn, hear their voice, and share those fleeting moments of normalcy gave him something to look forward to, something that made the rest of his day bearable.

He knew how dangerous it was to care, to let anyone get close. But with Yn, it felt different—safe, even. He found himself cherishing those ten minutes more than he ever expected, knowing that they kept him grounded in a way nothing else could. In those brief moments, he wasn’t just Jonathan Pine, the feared mobster; he was simply a man, enjoying a quiet coffee with someone who made him feel human again.

Jonathan Pine, a man who had always kept his emotions in check, found himself in unfamiliar territory. What started as a quiet admiration for Yn had grown into something much deeper. He was deeply and profoundly in love with them—a feeling that both terrified and thrilled him.

It wasn't just about those ten minutes each morning anymore. Yn had become the anchor in his life, the person who gave him a reason to wake up each day, who made him question the path he had chosen. He found himself thinking about them constantly, wondering what they were doing, hoping they were safe. He was consumed by a desire to protect them, to be someone they could rely on, even though he knew the darkness of his world could easily pull them in.

This love was different from anything Jonathan had ever known. It was not the fleeting infatuations or shallow connections he had experienced before. This was something real, something that had taken root deep in his soul. It was a love that made him want to be better, to find a way out of the life he had built, just to be with them.

But he knew the risks. He knew that his world could destroy everything he held dear. Yet, the thought of walking away from Yn was unbearable. He was willing to do whatever it took to keep them in his life, even if it meant risking everything he had built, everything he had become. Because, for the first time in a long time, Jonathan Pine had found something worth fighting for.

It had been two months since Yn and Jonathan began their routine of morning coffees and muffins. Each day, like clockwork, they would meet at the little barista, sharing quiet conversations and enjoying each other’s company. Jonathan had always insisted on paying, a small way of expressing his care and gratitude without needing to say the words. Yn had noticed, of course, and it had sparked an idea.

One morning, as they settled into their usual spot, Yn pulled out a large, carefully wrapped box from her bag. The box was simple but elegant, wrapped in a soft, cream-colored paper with a neat, dark blue ribbon tied into a perfect bow. As she handed it to him, Jonathan looked at the package, surprised, his usually calm demeanor wavering slightly.

“Well, John, you never let me pay,” Yn said with a playful smile, her eyes sparkling with warmth. “So I made these cookies for you. And if you want more, I’ll make another batch.”

Jonathan took the box from her, his hands unusually tentative. He wasn’t used to receiving gifts, especially not ones made with such care. He carefully untied the ribbon, the soft rustling of paper the only sound between them. Inside, nestled in a layer of delicate tissue paper, were rows of perfectly baked cookies. Each one was golden brown, with just the right amount of chocolate chips peeking through, a subtle hint of sugar and butter wafting up from the box.

For a moment, Jonathan was at a loss for words. He stared at the cookies, then back at Yn, who was watching him expectantly, her smile widening as she saw his reaction. He swallowed, trying to find the right thing to say, but all he could manage was a quiet, “Thank you.”

He cleared his throat, his voice a little steadier as he added, “These look… amazing. I don’t know what to say, Yn. No one’s ever done something like this for me.”

Yn’s smile softened, and she reached out to lightly touch his hand, a gesture that made his heart skip a beat. “You’re welcome, John. I hope you like them.”

Jonathan nodded, still a bit dazed, as he placed the box carefully on the table. He knew in that moment, more than ever, just how much he had fallen for Yn. This simple act of kindness had touched him in a way nothing else could, leaving him both humbled and deeply moved.

“I’m sure I will,” he finally managed to say, his voice filled with genuine warmth. And as they continued their conversation, the box of cookies sitting between them, Jonathan felt a deep sense of contentment. This was something real, something he knew he could never take for granted.

Jonathan Pine sat alone in his dimly lit den, the weight of the day’s events pressing down on him like a heavy shroud. The world outside was silent, save for the occasional rustle of leaves against the windows. On his desk, surrounded by papers, files, and a glass of whiskey, sat the box of cookies Yn had given him earlier that day.

He reached for the box, carefully lifting the lid to reveal the neatly arranged cookies inside. The aroma of sugar and chocolate was a comforting contrast to the cold, sterile environment of his den. Jonathan picked up a cookie, taking a small bite, savoring the sweetness that seemed to melt away the bitterness of his thoughts, if only for a moment.

As he chewed slowly, his mind drifted to Yn. He missed them, missed the warmth of their presence, the way their voice seemed to make everything else fade into the background. It was strange how such a simple thing—a box of homemade cookies—could have such a profound effect on him. But then again, everything about Yn seemed to reach a part of him he thought long buried.

Jonathan tried to remember the last time he had eaten something home-cooked. It had been years, perhaps decades. His life had become a series of meetings, deals, and takeout meals eaten on the go. The idea of someone caring enough to make something for him, to take the time and effort to create something with their own hands, was almost foreign.

As he took another bite, he felt a pang of longing, not just for the comfort of Yn’s presence, but for the life he had once imagined he might have—a life filled with simple pleasures, with warmth and love, far removed from the cold, dangerous world he now inhabited.

He set the cookie down, staring at the half-eaten treat as if it held all the answers. Jonathan Pine, the man who controlled empires, who instilled fear with just a glance, was undone by a box of cookies. Not because of what they were, but because of who they were from, and what they represented.

For a moment, he let himself imagine a different life—a life where he could be with Yn, where he could come home to something more than this den, where the smell of home-cooked meals filled the air, and where he wasn’t just Jonathan Pine, the mobster, but simply Jonathan, a man who loved and was loved in return.

But the moment passed, and reality crept back in. Jonathan knew he couldn’t afford to dwell on what could never be, but as he reached for another cookie, he allowed himself one more bite of sweetness, one more memory of Yn, and one more fleeting moment of peace.

Jonathan Pine leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling as the thoughts swirled in his mind. The taste of the cookie still lingered on his tongue, a bittersweet reminder of the world he wished he could be a part of. But the world he lived in was far from sweet, and the more he thought about Yn, the more he realized just how much they meant to him.

He had tried to keep a distance, to protect them from the darkness that surrounded him. But it was too late for that now. Yn had become a part of him, a part he couldn’t bear to lose. The idea of letting them go, of allowing them to slip out of his life, was unthinkable. A life without Yn was no life at all.

Jonathan knew the risks. He knew that the truth of who he was could shatter everything they had. But the thought of losing Yn was more terrifying than any enemy he had ever faced. He had built his empire on control, on power, on the ability to command respect and instill fear. But none of that mattered when it came to Yn. For the first time, he was willing to risk it all.

No matter the consequences, no matter the cost, Jonathan Pine decided that he would not let Yn go. She was his. His to protect, his to cherish, his to love. If it came to it, if she found out who he really was—if the truth of his life as a mobster came crashing down around them—he would do whatever it took to keep her by his side. He would plead on his knees if he had to, beg for her forgiveness, for her understanding. He would lay down every piece of his armor, expose every scar, every sin, if it meant he could still have her in his life.

Jonathan wasn’t a man who begged. He wasn’t a man who showed weakness. But for Yn, he would. He would do anything to make her stay, because without her, nothing else mattered.

As he sat there in the quiet of his den, the decision solidified in his mind. Yn was his, and he would fight for her, with everything he had. No matter what it took, no matter what he had to sacrifice, he would make sure she stayed in his life. Because Yn had become his world, and he wasn’t about to let that world slip through his fingers.

The next morning, Yn arrived at the barista, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. The usual routine was comforting—a cup of coffee, a muffin, and Jonathan Pine waiting for her. Yet, today felt different. Maya’s teasing words from the previous day echoed in her mind, causing her to wonder if Jonathan might have feelings for her beyond friendship.

As she entered the coffee shop, her gaze immediately found Jonathan. He was already seated at their usual spot on the bench by the window, his posture relaxed but his expression more introspective than usual. He looked up as she approached, a warm smile spreading across his face, though there was something in his eyes that seemed different—more intense, more searching.

Yn sat down beside him, trying to shake off her nerves. “Good morning, Jonathan,” she said, her voice a little softer than usual.

“Good morning, Yn,” Jonathan replied, his voice steady but with an undercurrent of something unspoken. He pushed a cup of coffee and a muffin toward her, a gesture as familiar as ever.

They settled into their routine, but Yn couldn’t help but steal glances at Jonathan, trying to gauge his reactions. The playful banter and easy conversation they usually shared seemed more laden with unspoken words today. Jonathan’s gaze lingered on her a bit longer than usual, and he seemed more attentive, his focus entirely on her.

Yn hesitated, then decided to broach the topic. “Jonathan, can I ask you something?” she said, her voice trembling slightly with the weight of her curiosity.

“Of course,” he replied, looking at her with genuine interest.

“Do you… ever think about what we have here?” Yn asked, her heart pounding. “I mean, this routine, these mornings. What do you think it means?”

Jonathan’s eyes softened, and he took a moment before responding. “Yn, I value these moments more than you might realize. They mean a lot to me.”

Yn felt her pulse quicken at his words. There was a sincerity in his voice that she hadn’t fully grasped before. “Do you think… do you think there’s something more to it?” she ventured, her heart in her throat.

Jonathan looked at her, his expression serious yet tender. “Yn, what we have is special. It’s more than just a routine to me. It’s been one of the few things that’s felt real and meaningful.”

Yn’s breath caught. The words were vague but laden with implications. Could it be that Jonathan felt the same way she did, but was hesitant to express it?

Jonathan seemed to sense her hesitation. “If you’re asking if I have feelings for you, the answer is yes. I care about you deeply, Yn. More than I’ve allowed myself to admit until now.”

Yn’s heart soared at his confession. The realization that Jonathan harbored feelings for her too made the world around them feel suddenly brighter. She looked at him, her eyes reflecting a mix of relief and joy.

Jonathan reached out, his hand gently brushing hers. “I know this might be unexpected, but I needed you to know how I feel. Whatever this is between us, it’s real to me, and I want it to be real for you too.”

Yn squeezed his hand, her heart full. “I’m glad you told me,” she said softly. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot, too.”

For a moment, they simply sat there, their hands connected, both feeling the weight of their feelings and the potential of what lay ahead. The routine of their mornings had transformed into something profoundly meaningful, and as they shared a quiet smile, they both knew that their connection had deepened in ways neither of them had fully anticipated.

Jonathan Pine looked at Yn, a mixture of determination and tenderness in his gaze. After their heartfelt conversation, he took a deep breath, his voice steady but filled with a certain earnestness.

“Yn, would you like to go to dinner with me?” he asked, his tone soft but resolute.

Yn raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eye. “Like a date?”

Jonathan smiled, his eyes never leaving hers. “Not like a date, Yn. A date. A date where I would woo you, and court you, and eventually… in proper time… put something shiny on this finger here,” he said, nodding toward her left hand.

Yn’s cheeks flushed a deep pink, her heart fluttering at his words. The idea of Jonathan planning something so romantic, so genuine, left her both excited and touched. She smiled, a mixture of shyness and joy lighting up her face.

“That sounds… wonderful,” she replied softly.

Jonathan’s smile widened, relieved and happy to see her reaction. “I’m glad you think so,” he said. “I want to make this as special as it can be.”

Yn nodded, her heart full. “I’d love to, Jonathan.”

As they sat there, the promise of a new chapter in their relationship seemed to fill the space between them. Jonathan’s proposal of a true date, with intentions of something deeper, had made everything feel even more real. Yn’s smile was a testament to her own feelings, and Jonathan felt a surge of happiness knowing that their journey together was only just beginning.

Jonathan Pine looked at Yn with a warm, determined smile. “I’ll pick you up at 8 tonight,” he said, his voice filled with promise.

Yn nodded, a mix of excitement and anticipation bubbling up inside her. “I’ll be ready,” she replied, her smile widening.

With a final, tender glance, Jonathan stood up, his gaze lingering on Yn for a moment longer before he turned and walked away. Yn watched him go, feeling a sense of eager anticipation for the evening ahead. The thought of spending a special evening with Jonathan, with all the possibilities it held, made her heart race with excitement.

At precisely 8 o’clock, Jonathan Pine arrived at Yn’s doorstep, impeccably dressed in a navy suit that exuded sophistication. The suit was tailored to perfection, hugging his lean frame and accentuating his refined demeanor. The navy fabric had a subtle sheen under the evening light, giving it a rich, deep hue. His crisp white dress shirt provided a striking contrast, and his silk tie, in a darker shade of navy with a faint, elegant pattern, completed the ensemble. His polished leather shoes gleamed with each step, and he wore a matching pocket square that added a final touch of class.

In his hand, Jonathan held a bouquet of flowers—delicate and beautiful. The arrangement featured a mix of white roses and soft pink peonies, their petals exuding a gentle fragrance. The flowers were wrapped in a simple yet elegant paper with a soft ribbon tied around it, adding a touch of understated romance.

When Yn opened the door, she stood in her fawn-colored midi dress, a vision of grace and charm. The dress was fitted at the bodice, with a flattering, gently flared skirt that reached just below her knees. The soft, neutral color complemented her complexion, and the dress's subtle sheen caught the light as she moved. The high neckline and slightly puffed sleeves added a touch of vintage elegance, and a delicate, thin belt cinched her waist, accentuating her silhouette.

Jonathan’s eyes lit up as he saw Yn, and he extended the bouquet toward her with a warm smile. “Good evening, Yn,” he said, his voice filled with admiration. “These are for you.”

Yn’s cheeks flushed with pleasure as she accepted the flowers, her eyes sparkling with happiness. “Thank you, Jonathan. They’re beautiful.”

Jonathan took her hand gently, his gaze lingering on her. “You look stunning,” he said sincerely. “Shall we?”

With a graceful nod, Yn stepped out, and Jonathan guided her to the waiting car, the evening air filled with the promise of a perfect night ahead.

As they dined in the luxurious setting of the Michelin-starred restaurant, Yn and Jonathan settled into a comfortable rhythm. The food was exquisite, and the conversation flowed easily, with both of them feeling at ease despite the opulence around them.

Yn took a sip of her wine and glanced at Jonathan. “I’ve told you a bit about me, but I don’t think I’ve shared much about my sister, Maya,” she said, a fond smile on her face. “She’s the only family I have left. She’s a surgeon and has two kids. They’re my world, really.”

Jonathan listened intently, his eyes reflecting genuine interest. “It sounds like she’s incredible,” he said.

Yn nodded, her eyes bright with affection. “She is. She’s been my rock through everything. Even though we’re not very close in distance, she’s always there for me.”

Jonathan’s gaze softened. “I’m glad you have such a strong support system.”

Yn hesitated for a moment before asking, “What about you, Jonathan? Do you have family?”

Jonathan’s expression grew more subdued. He took a moment to compose his thoughts before replying, “I’m all alone. My family… they’re gone. It’s just me.”

The quietness of his admission hung in the air, and Yn could see the weight of his words. Without hesitation, she reached out and took his hand, her touch gentle and reassuring. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “That must be hard.”

Jonathan looked at her hand in his, the simple act of comfort bringing a flicker of warmth to his eyes. “Thank you, Yn,” he said quietly. “It is, but it means a lot to have someone like you to talk to.”

Yn squeezed his hand lightly, offering a comforting smile. “You don’t have to go through it alone,” she said. “I’m here for you, Jonathan.”

The sincerity in her voice and the warmth of her touch made Jonathan feel a sense of solace he hadn’t experienced in a long time. As they continued their conversation, the connection between them deepened, and the evening took on an even more meaningful significance.

As the evening progressed, Yn and Jonathan remained seated at their table, lost in conversation. The hours slipped by unnoticed as Yn shared anecdotes and stories from her life and college, her voice animated and filled with joy. Jonathan listened intently, his admiration for her evident in the way he looked at her—as though she were the most fascinating person he had ever encountered.

Yn’s stories painted vivid pictures of her past, and Jonathan found himself captivated by her warmth and humor. The restaurant’s soft lighting and the gentle clink of silverware provided a perfect backdrop to their intimate exchange.

Eventually, Yn stifled a yawn, and Jonathan, noticing her growing fatigue, gently placed his hand over hers. “We must go,” he said with a smile. “Time flies with you, Yn.”

Yn returned his smile, her eyes reflecting a mix of contentment and affection. “I’ve had a wonderful time, Jonathan.”

After they left the restaurant, Jonathan drove Yn back to her home. The car ride was quiet but filled with a sense of shared understanding. When they arrived, Jonathan walked her to her doorstep, his hand resting gently on the small of her back.

As they reached her front door, Yn turned to him with a soft smile. She reached up, gently tugging on his tie to bring him closer. Jonathan’s eyes met hers, filled with anticipation and tenderness.

Without a word, Yn leaned in and kissed him. The kiss was tender at first, but Jonathan responded with a passion that matched the depth of his feelings. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in closer, as if wanting to hold onto the moment forever.

Their kiss deepened, a reflection of the connection they had formed over the evening. When they finally pulled away, both were breathless, their faces flushed with emotion.

Jonathan gazed into Yn’s eyes, his expression a mixture of longing and affection. “Goodnight, Yn,” he said softly. “I’ll see you soon.”

Yn smiled, her heart full. “Goodnight, Jonathan.”

As Jonathan watched her enter her home, he felt a profound sense of contentment. The evening had been perfect, and the kiss they shared was a promise of the future they both hoped to build together.

As Jonathan Pine lay in bed that night, the kiss he shared with Yn replayed in his mind like a cherished, albeit intoxicating, memory. The sensation of her lips against his, the warmth of her embrace, and the depth of emotion conveyed in that single, passionate moment were all consuming. It was as if the kiss had unlocked something within him—something he hadn't realized was so desperately craving.

He turned restlessly in bed, unable to shake the vivid recollection of her touch. Each time he closed his eyes, he saw her smile, felt the softness of her skin, and recalled the sweetness of the kiss. The more he thought about it, the more he realized just how much Yn had come to mean to him. The kiss was more than just a physical connection; it was an affirmation of the deep feelings he had developed for her.

Jonathan could no longer deny that he was captivated, even addicted to her presence. The kiss had intensified his longing for her, making him yearn for more of her warmth, her laughter, and the comfort of her company. The way she had looked at him, the way she had kissed him—everything about that night had woven itself into the fabric of his thoughts.

As he lay there, the realization hit him with a powerful clarity. Yn had become an essential part of his life, and he was more than ready to do whatever it took to keep her close. The kiss had solidified his feelings, revealing the depth of his attachment and the intensity of his desire to build something lasting and meaningful with her.

Jonathan knew that no matter the challenges or risks, he was willing to face them. Yn had become the center of his thoughts, and he was driven by an overwhelming need to make her a permanent part of his life.

The next morning, Yn arrived at the coffee shop with a sense of eager anticipation. As she walked through the familiar doors, her eyes immediately found Jonathan Pine, already seated at their usual spot. The sight of him waiting for her brought a smile to her face, and she couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement at the thought of their meeting.

As she approached, Yn playfully remarked, “There he is, my… boyfriend?” She raised an eyebrow, her tone light and teasing.

Jonathan looked up, his smile widening at her words. With a glint of amusement in his eyes, he replied, “It’s an badge of honor I’ll proudly wear, darling.” He then leaned in and gave her a gentle peck on the lips, a tender gesture that made her heart skip a beat.

Yn blushed slightly, her smile growing wider. The affectionate kiss and Jonathan’s response were both sweet and reassuring. As they settled into their usual routine, the connection between them felt even stronger, and Yn couldn’t wait to spend more time together, savoring each moment and the joy it brought.

Jonathan Pine watched with a mixture of anticipation and amusement as Yn took her seat. After their initial exchange, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box. He extended it to her with a playful smile. “I forgot to give you this yesterday. I guess I was too charmed,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

Yn looked at the box in surprise, her curiosity piqued. As she opened it, her breath caught at the sight of the exquisite diamond pendant nestled inside. The pendant was a delicate, sparkling diamond set in a simple yet elegant design, its brilliance catching the light in a mesmerizing way.

Her eyes widened, and she looked up at Jonathan, her voice filled with a mix of astonishment and hesitation. “John, you don’t… I’m not accepting this. It’s too much!”

Jonathan’s smile softened, and he reached out, gently closing the box with a reassuring touch. “Yn, it’s not about the gift. It’s about how much you mean to me. I wanted to give you something that reflects how special you are.”

Yn’s heart fluttered at his words, but she shook her head, still feeling overwhelmed. “It’s really beautiful, but…”

Jonathan took her hand in his, his expression sincere. “Please, Yn. Just accept it. It’s a small token of my affection and appreciation for you. I want you to have it.”

After a moment’s pause, Yn’s resistance melted away. She looked at the pendant again, her fingers brushing against its smooth surface. She could see the depth of Jonathan’s feelings reflected in the thoughtful gesture.

With a smile, she finally nodded. “Alright, John. I’ll accept it. But only because it’s from you.”

Jonathan’s face lit up with relief and happiness. He leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Thank you, Yn. I’m glad you like it.”

Yn’s smile was filled with warmth as she accepted the pendant, feeling the weight of both the gift and Jonathan’s affection. The moment solidified their connection, adding another layer to the bond they were building together.

Yn laughed softly, holding up the pendant and admiring its brilliance. “It’s too sparkly for a professor like me,” she said with a teasing smile.

Jonathan’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “It’s not sparkly enough for you, Professor,” he replied playfully.

Yn shook her head, still smiling. “Okay, no more gifts for three months now, at least. You are forbidden.”

Jonathan chuckled, his gaze warm. “I promise to abide by the rule, though I must say, it’ll be quite a challenge.”

As they continued their morning routine, the playful banter and Jonathan’s thoughtful gesture left them both with a sense of contentment. The bond between them grew stronger with each passing moment, and the sparkly pendant became a symbol of their deepening connection.

With a final, swift kiss, Yn stood up, her smile lingering. “I’ve got to run to my classes,” she said, giving Jonathan a quick but affectionate peck on the lips.

Jonathan watched her leave, his heart warmed by the brief, intimate moment. “Have a great day, Yn,” he called after her, his voice filled with genuine affection.

Yn waved as she headed out, her steps light and her spirits high. The day ahead seemed brighter, buoyed by the warmth of their connection and the joy of their shared moments.

Jonathan Pine sat in his den, the room bathed in a dim, focused light that highlighted the seriousness of the meeting. Across from him sat Richard Roper, known in certain circles as Dickie, a long-time adversary. The atmosphere was tense as they discussed the territorial negotiations, but Richard’s casual, almost mocking tone was like a thorn in Jonathan's side.

“You seem to be busy these days, Jonathan,” Dickie said with a smirk. “I heard you found a new plaything for yourself… a little professor in linguistics.”

Jonathan’s jaw tightened, and his hands clenched slightly on the armrests of his chair. He struggled to keep his composure, knowing that showing any sign of weakness could be exploited. “She keeps me entertained,” he replied coolly, his voice carefully controlled.

Dickie’s smirk widened as he leaned forward. “Does your plaything know about this side hustle you have going on?” he taunted, his tone dripping with malicious curiosity.

Jonathan’s eyes narrowed, but he maintained a calm exterior. “Now, I believe our negotiations are over. We can discuss the rest over the weekend.”

Dickie chuckled, rising from his seat. “Looking forward to it, Jonathan. Don’t let your ‘professor’ keep you too distracted.”

As Dickie left, Jonathan’s thoughts turned dark. He walked to the window, staring out at the cityscape, his mind racing. The mention of Yn and the insinuation about her knowledge of his darker side were deeply unsettling. He knew that his enemies would see her as a vulnerability, a potential lever to manipulate or harm him.

I can't let anything happen to her, Jonathan thought fiercely. Not after everything we've shared. I’ve got to keep her safe. No matter what it takes.

He clenched his fists, the need to protect Yn becoming an urgent priority. I need to be more vigilant. Dickie’s words might just be a game, but I can't afford to take any chances. If anyone tries to use her against me, they’ll regret it. I’ll make sure of that.

Jonathan took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He knew that the coming days would require him to be both strategic and cautious. The safety of the woman he had come to care so deeply about depended on his ability to handle his enemies while keeping his feelings and vulnerabilities concealed.

I won’t let anything happen to her, he vowed silently. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe and out of harm’s way.

As Jonathan Pine stared out the window, the weight of Dickie's words pressed heavily on him. The concern for Yn’s safety was paramount, but a deeper, more personal fear gnawed at him: what if Yn discovered the truth about him? The thought that she might learn about his criminal activities and come to hate him was almost unbearable.

What if she finds out who I really am? Jonathan’s mind raced. What if she learns about the world I’m involved in and despises me for it?

He couldn’t bear the idea of losing her trust and affection, not after everything they had shared. The thought of Yn looking at him with disdain, or worse, feeling betrayed, was a wound he couldn’t afford to contemplate.

She deserves honesty and respect, he mused, but how can I reveal this side of my life without pushing her away?

Jonathan’s chest tightened with the fear of what might come if his two worlds collided. He knew he was walking a tightrope, trying to balance the dangerous secrets of his life with the genuine, heartfelt connection he had with Yn. The risk of her finding out and hating him for the life he led was a constant, looming shadow.

I need to protect her from this world, he thought fiercely. And I need to find a way to keep my truth from driving her away. If she ever finds out, I hope she can understand… and still care for me.

With renewed resolve, Jonathan steeled himself to safeguard both his secrets and his relationship with Yn. He had to ensure that she remained safe from both external threats and the potentially devastating truth about his double life.

Jonathan Pine felt a surge of agitation and worry as he paced his den, his chest feeling constricted with the weight of his fears. The thought of Yn discovering his true identity and the potential danger she might be in became overwhelming. He knew he couldn’t wait any longer; he had to see her now.

It was midnight when he drove to Yn’s house, the late hour doing little to quell his anxiety. When he arrived, he took a deep breath and knocked softly on her door. As it creaked open, Yn appeared, looking groggy and disoriented.

“John, is everything okay?” she asked, her voice filled with concern as she noticed the troubled look on his face. “Come in.”

Jonathan stepped inside, his demeanor both urgent and hesitant. “Can I please be here, Yn? I’m not here to do anything; I just need to be here,” he said, his voice strained and raw.

Yn’s expression softened, and she reached out to him, pulling him into a gentle embrace. “Yes, of course, love. This is your home,” she said soothingly, her arms wrapping around him and rubbing his back in a comforting gesture.

Jonathan leaned into her, the warmth of her touch providing a small measure of relief from his anxiety. He closed his eyes, letting the calm of her presence soothe his frayed nerves. The simple act of being with her, feeling her closeness, was a balm to his troubled mind.

Yn guided him to the living room and settled him on the couch, sitting beside him. “Talk to me, John,” she urged softly. “What’s going on?”

Jonathan took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. He knew he couldn’t reveal everything, but he needed to express the depth of his distress. “It’s just… there’s so much going on,” he said quietly. “I’ve been worried, and I needed to be near you.”

Yn looked at him with understanding eyes, her concern evident. “You don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here for you, John. Whatever it is, we’ll face it together.”

Jonathan nodded, feeling a glimmer of solace from her words. He knew that, for now, being with Yn and having her support was what he needed most.

Yn gently guided Jonathan to her bedroom, her heart aching with concern for him. She led him to the bed and, with a comforting gesture, motioned for him to sit. Jonathan, still visibly agitated, eased onto the bed and rested his head on her lap.

Yn stroked his hair soothingly, her touch tender and reassuring. “Just relax, John,” she whispered softly. “You’re safe here. Try to get some rest.”

Jonathan’s eyes closed as he felt the warmth and softness of her lap. The steady, rhythmic motion of her fingers combing through his hair began to calm him. Despite the worries that had plagued him, the tranquility of being with Yn provided a reprieve from his anxieties.

As he lay there, the physical and emotional exhaustion took over. Jonathan’s breathing evened out, and he drifted into a peaceful sleep, the weight of his fears momentarily lifted by the comfort of Yn’s presence.

Yn continued to watch over him, her heart full of affection and concern. She stayed by his side, quietly ensuring that he felt secure and cared for, letting the soothing atmosphere of the room work its magic on both of them.

Jonathan woke up slowly, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. He looked up and saw Yn still asleep, sitting with her back against the bed frame. She hadn’t moved an inch through the night, allowing him to rest peacefully on her lap. Her head was tilted slightly, and a gentle, serene expression was on her face. Despite the soreness in her back, she remained a steady, comforting presence.

Jonathan felt a profound sense of gratitude and tenderness. The sight of Yn’s unwavering care and dedication, even while enduring discomfort, filled him with a deep emotional response. He realized how much she meant to him, and how much he relied on her presence for solace and strength. Her selflessness and the way she had stayed by his side all night only deepened his feelings for her.

As Yn stirred and woke up, she shifted slightly, a slight grimace of soreness crossing her face. “Hey, you,” she said softly, her voice still tinged with sleep. “Are you okay, John? What happened…”

Jonathan looked at Yn, his expression a mix of surprise and concern. “There’s something I have to tell you about me,” he began, his voice steady but carrying a hint of trepidation.

Yn’s gaze fell to her lap, her fingers nervously fiddling with the edge of her dress. “Is it the fact that you work in the mafia?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her lips biting the inside of her mouth.

Jonathan’s eyes widened. “You know?”

“No, not until now,” Yn said, her voice calm but firm. “But I observe, John. It’s not often I see a man dressed every day in suits from Armani to Ralph Lauren, sitting idly in coffee shops. No job in the world is that easy. I guess I put two and two together.”

Jonathan’s heart sank, and he took a deep breath. He had feared this moment, and now that it was here, he was at a loss for words. The realization that Yn had figured it out, even without him explicitly revealing his secret, left him feeling vulnerable and exposed.

Jonathan looked at Yn, searching her eyes for any sign of betrayal or fear. “So when you went on a date with me…” he began hesitantly, “did you have an idea about what I do?”

Yn nodded, her cheeks flushing slightly. “I think I had a feeling,” she admitted softly. “But I just… my heart didn’t agree with my mind. I was attracted to you… mafia or not.”

Her words struck Jonathan deeply, and he felt a mix of relief and lingering anxiety. Her attraction to him despite his dangerous world was both reassuring and unsettling. As he listened to her, he realized just how much he wanted to protect her from the harsh realities of his life, while also yearning for her understanding and acceptance.

Jonathan, overwhelmed by a torrent of emotions, pulled Yn close and kissed her with a passion that spoke of both his longing and his relief. His lips were fervent against hers, and the kiss deepened as he poured all his feelings into it. “I love you,” he murmured between kisses, his voice trembling with sincerity.

Yn responded with equal fervor, her heart swelling with affection. “I love you too, John,” she whispered back, her voice filled with warmth and devotion.

As the sun began to rise, casting a golden hue over the city, their shared passion became a gentle, intimate expression of their bond. They moved together with a graceful intensity, their bodies finding a rhythm that mirrored the quiet, dawning light filtering through the window. The soft, early morning light illuminated the room, wrapping them in a warm, ethereal glow.

In those tender moments, time seemed to stand still. The world outside was bathed in a serene, golden light, and the city below stirred to life, but within the confines of their sanctuary, everything else faded away. Jonathan and Yn were lost in each other, their connection deepening with every touch and whispered word.

The soft rustling of the sheets and the gentle sounds of their breaths became a symphony of intimacy. Their movements were tender and unhurried, each caress and embrace an affirmation of their love. As the sun climbed higher, its light danced on their skin, accentuating the warmth and closeness they shared.

In the quiet aftermath, they lay entwined, their breaths slow and synchronized, the world outside continuing its rhythm while they remained cocooned in their private moment of unity and love. The city’s awakening was a backdrop to their personal sunrise, a symbol of the new beginnings they were embarking upon together.

As the morning progressed, Jonathan moved with a newfound sense of purpose. He quietly prepared breakfast, the aroma of fresh coffee and sizzling eggs filling the kitchen. Yn, still wrapped in the comfort of their shared night, emerged from the bedroom, her face glowing with happiness and contentment. Jonathan smiled as he served the meal, his actions tender and attentive.

After breakfast, Jonathan drove Yn to college. The car ride was filled with a comfortable silence, punctuated by occasional glances and warm smiles. He pulled up to the entrance of her campus, the early morning sun casting a soft light over the bustling scene of students and faculty.

“You’re going to be great today,” Jonathan said softly, his eyes lingering on Yn’s face.

Yn smiled, her heart full from the morning they had shared. “Thank you, John. I’ll see you later.”

As Jonathan drove away from the campus, he reflected on the profound impact Yn had on his life. He felt a deep sense of being cherished and accepted, a feeling that was both new and overwhelming.

Yn has accepted me as I am, he thought with a mixture of awe and gratitude. She knows my world, the darkness and danger, and yet she embraces me without judgment.

The weight of his double life had always been a heavy burden, but Yn’s acceptance made it feel lighter. Her love was a balm to his wounded soul, and her willingness to stand by him, despite the risks and the reality of his world, was something he had never imagined.

To be cherished in this way is more than I could have hoped for, Jonathan mused. Her acceptance means more than anything else. It’s not just about her love; it’s about the fact that she sees me fully, with all my flaws and my past, and still chooses to be with me.

He felt a profound relief and clarity as he considered how Yn’s acceptance had transformed his perspective. It wasn’t just about feeling loved; it was about feeling understood and valued in a way he hadn’t thought possible. The sense of being cherished by someone who saw beyond the surface and embraced the entirety of who he was gave him a newfound strength and resolve.

With Yn, I am not just a man hiding behind a façade, he reflected. I am someone who has found a place of genuine acceptance and love. It’s a gift I never expected, and it makes me want to protect and cherish her even more.

Jonathan’s thoughts were filled with a profound appreciation for Yn. Her acceptance and love had brought him a sense of completeness and empowerment he hadn’t known before. As he continued his drive, he felt more confident and at peace, knowing that he had someone who truly understood him and stood by him, no matter what.

part 3

[jungwnies]

partners ✰ 10 breaking the silence

masterlist | next

the day was spent talking to jake, getting to know each other and airing out your differences. although there was bickering here and there, it was safe to say that jake and you no longer hated each other's guts. the conversation could go from playful to deep, to serious to really dumb, but it was obvious you and jake had a connection that was masked by the past hatred.

– present time (ps)

"if you could go back in time to when we met, would you change anything?" you ask as you dipped your spoon in the ice cream.

jake purses his lips and thinks, "if i was nice to you from the beginning, i wouldn't know you as well as i do now." he answers, sighing, "i think we would've just been strictly business, but now it really feels like we can be friends."

you nod, "i agree, if i could go back in time i would still continue to treat you like the ass you are."

"i'm not that bad anymore though, right?" he asks, leaning back, holding himself up as he looks up at the sky.

you shake your head and laugh, "you're not that bad anymore, but you're still quite annoying."

"so are you." jake says laughing. "look, isn't the sky pretty tonight?"

you put your bowl down and look up at the stars, "yeah, it is really pretty."

"y/n, i knowi've already apologized, but i'm really sorry for how i acted in the past." jake apologizes once again.

"you're forgiven jake, let's just move past that." you tell him smiling.

jake nods and the two of you lay down on the blanket, stargazing.

– ts

"you're not going back to the dorms today?" jake asks as you sit back into your seat after instructing where to go.

"i have my own place, you know?" you say laughing, "i just choose to stay at the dorms most of the time because it's just easier transportation."

the car ride is quiet, yet comfortable. comfortable silence, as some would describe it.

it didn't take too long for the car to pull up in front of your apartment building. "do you mind taking me up, there's a lot of criminal activity near here." you ask, looking around.

"of course not." jake says getting out of the van with you, "out of everywhere you could've lived, you pick gangseo district?" jake asks as you lead the way inside.

"i'm never really here, and it's cheap." you tell him as you are typing the code into your apartment lock. "i come here to get away, sometimes the dorms can be toxic, with all the girl and boy drama you know?"

jake gives you a hum and continues to talk, "yeah sometimes it can get hectic at our dorms too."

the door unlocks and you step inside, "do you want to come inside, for a cup of tea or something?" you hold the door open but slightly lean on it.

"i don't want to intrude or anything." he tells you with a shy smile.

"you're not intruding, don't worry." you assure him, opening your door a little wider so he can walk in.

"for someone who lives in a dodgy town, your home is the complete opposite." he tells you as he takes in the coziness of your home.

"i try to make it as comfortable as possible since it's my getaway home." you tell him as you flip on some lights. "feel free to sit anywhere." you walk over to your bedroom door and open it, "if you don't mind, i'm going to change to something a little more comfortable." you walk into the bedroom and close the door quickly. you take off your clothes and quickly change into soft pajama pants, as well as putting on a loose t-shirt.

you leave your room and make your way to the kitchen to put the kettle on the stove. you turn the knob on the stove and ignite the fire. you make your way to your small, yet comfy living room and sit on the opposite end of the couch where jake is sitting. you lean forward and grab the remote and turn the tv on, "do you want to watch anything?"

jake shakes his head, "anything is okay."

"i hope it's not weird i invited you inside, this is my getaway place but sometimes i don't want to be alone while i'm here. considering the crime rate around here." you tell him as you launch netflix and put whatever you had in your continue watching.

jake laughs, "i think after what we talked about today, nothing between us should be weird."

you laugh and smile, "you're right."

the whistling of the kettle breaks the silence and you get up to tend to it. you pour the water into the mugs that contain the tea bags and walk back over to jake handing it to him, "do you want sugar or honey, or anything?"

jake shakes his head, "no, this is fine. thank you y/n."

you nod and sit back down into your spot. the two of you went back and forth while watching the tv attentively and also having small side conversations. as the clock ticked, you could feel yourself becoming drowsy. you put your cup down in front of you on the coffee table and lean your head against your palm as your arm is held up by the armrest of your couch. your eyes fight the heaviness but eventually you fall asleep.

"it's pretty late, i should probably go." jake says standing up to see you on the couch asleep comfortably.

word count: 742 | thanks for reading!

taglist: @whoisalexis,@baldi2,@giraffeass,@tlnyjoong,@hanienie,@yelleloww,@ghostiiess,@silcry,@reikofruitloops,@aetzensvct,@ohbeomgyu,@xiaoderrrr,@moonshoon,@kimipxl,@lalalalawon,@iea-tsand,@shinsou-rii,@vanillabeanwaffle,@Blkkgirlmagic [open - bolded could not be tagged]

2022 © jungwnies

[dearestones]

Guppy Love (Matsuda Touta x Reader)

Warnings: Fluff. 

Anonymous Request: Hii Devin!!! I hope this isn’t too much trouble for you, but um I was wondering if you could write a fluffy Matsuda x Reader where they go on a aquarium date, if that’s okay with you of course heh~

.

.

.

It wasn’t often that Touta was available to go out on dates with you. For a few years now, you knew that he was working as a detective for a high profile case, high enough that you knew that the job paid well—almost too well—but you were always worried that something would happen. You weren’t quite sure what that “something” was, but the fear that someday you would find out that your partner was in trouble or worse was frightening and induced a dread so overwhelming, you couldn’t sleep. So, it was surprising when Touta told you that he requested a few days off.

When you asked, he only gave you a small smile and reminded you that he had to take a few breaks once in a while, right? Considering that you knew Touta couldn’t talk too in depth about his work and that he had never lied to you in the past, you chose to accept it. More likely than not, maybe it was because you knew your partner was working himself to the bone for a case you thought was not going anywhere. The most that you could get out of him was that this case had been ongoing for a few years now and that there were very few leads. Furthermore, he had said that it was possible that maybe the case could never be solved. 

For a man who was optimistic like Touta, you did not expect such a disheartening response. 

If this were any other man, another man who did not have such a dangerous job like your partner, you would have pushed a little harder. Yet, you trusted Touta. 

And it wasn’t a common occurrence that you could spend the day with him. 

“For how long will you be free?” You asked. At that moment, you were pouring your partner some freshly brewed tea, the scent of the beverage filling your nose and calming your senses. “We should make plans.”

“What a coincidence!” Before you could ask him what he meant, Touta pulled out a little brochure from the inner pocket of his blazer. Although crumpled, you could clearly see from the logo and bold coloring, you saw that it was an advertisement for the opening of a—

“Oh my gosh!” 

You nearly dropped the cup full of steaming tea on the dining table as you leaned over to grab at the glossy paper. Playfully, Touta moved the brochure out of your reach before looking pointedly at your lips. Feigning annoyance, you planted the sloppiest, wettest kiss on his cheek before making the grabby hand motion at the brochure. 

“Gimme!”

Touta rolled his eyes. “I can tell that the idea of going to this place is far more appealing than kissing me.”

“Oh, most definitely.”

It was at that point that he finally relinquished his hold on the brochure and you finally got a good look at it. Right away, you were able to identify the logo of an aquarium opening that was only one train ride away and if you were lucky, you could spend the entire afternoon with your lover there. 

“Can we—?”

There was no need to ask, Touta was already at the door, wallet in hand and a smile on his face. 

“As long as you’re okay with the tea getting cold.”

No. No, you weren’t okay with the tea getting cold. Instead, you poured all of the tea in the biggest thermos you had before joining Touta at the door. Together, the both of you stepped out and began hurrying towards the aquarium. 

.

.

.

The thing that you loved most about your partner was that he was more of an action oriented sort of person. Instead of just lying around in wait, he wanted to get things done. Whether this was to make sure that criminals were locked behind bars or making sure that there was enough groceries at home, you knew that Touta wasn’t one for long term planning. Therefore, you expected him to be spontaneous to a fault, which often led to him getting caught up in all sorts of dangerous hijinks that you only knew about because you pressed too hard at times. He was reckless and impulsive, but sometimes, those traits resulted in positive outcomes.

In this case, you were more than amazed that you and Touta managed to get to the aquarium just in time a little after the afternoon rush. Gone were the groups of school children who would explore the curious world of sea creatures and young couples who wanted to spend time with their lovers. No, it was mainly older people who wanted to observe and some of the younger families who wanted to entertain their young children. 

Perfect, you thought. It was all perfect.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had a romantic date.” 

You held Touta’s hand as the both of you strolled towards one of the bigger fish tanks where the entire wall was made of glass. Behind the protective layer of glass, an entire ecosystem was thriving. Behind some of the plants and the fake structures that posed as hiding places for the sea creatures, you could see the flash of a tail or the wiggling of appendages. It took a moment, but before long, you were greeted with an entire school of fish swimming right in front of your eyes. 

“Then, it’s a good thing that I got this planned out.” He leaned a little against your back, his nose tickling your nose and his arms holding you tight around your waist. 

It was the sort of hold that you would usually experience in the privacy of your home, and even then, it was few and far in between because he spent so much time at work. To have him embrace you like this was relieving and affirmed the bond you felt in your shared relationship. 

One of your hands intertwined with one of his, your fingers loosely interlocking as you lazily watched a few fish continue to flit around in the water. You weren’t too sure what sort of fish they were, but you were too focused on Touta’s warmth to even think about reading the information plaque at the very front of the tank. 

“You actually planned out an entire evening date?” The incredulity in your voice must have been too palpable to come off as joking because Touta slumped over you, the sudden weight causing your knees to buckle. If the low groan of disapproval was any indication of his mood, you knew that he was pouting behind you. “I’m not being mean, Touta! I’m just surprised!”

“Oh, hush.” He pressed his lips against the pulse point on your neck and you instantly felt your heart rate speed up. “If you don’t stop, I’m not taking you out to that fancy restaurant you were eyeing earlier.”

“Touta! No!”

You spun around in his arms, but that was apparently what he wanted. Now that you were facing him while still in his arms, he effortlessly dipped you before planting a passionate, yet chaste kiss on your lips. Despite your surprise, you melted into his touch and closed your eyes to the sight of the atmospheric light gently caressing his face. 

.

.

.

If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel free https://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.

DEATH NOTE MASTERLIST

[aycsme]

Jace was an ordinary man with an extraordinary talent of piano playing from classics to soft rhythmic jazz accompaniment.

Recently hired word to mouth he was instructed to arrive at this particular corner of the outlet at an early time before the sun had even set. Which was a risk on its own considering the coppers were itching for a bust.

Chosen after being heard by a group of some shady looking “business” men at the hotel he frequented he eventually found himself here. Surrounded by the smell of Borax and soaps he could feel the odd stares he was getting from the housewives out doing their shopping.

Moments before he stopped in front of what looked like a washer and dryer complied on top of one another. Jace couldn’t help but notice earlier as he was making his way to the shopping plaza another pair of men just as odd looking and stand offish as himself walking away as he was walking to.

He would’ve asked them if they knew where he was expected to be but they had their cigars rested on their lips and didn’t seem like they wanted to be bothered at that particular moment. Sending him a quick glance and wink, with their suit cases in hand, continued on their own path. Wall Street men. Gotta love em. Jace just hoped he got the right location cause he was definitely short on time.

“Ha! Howvery kind of you to finally make it.” A voice from .. Well nearby sounded a bit irritating but there was no of telling for sure seeing the speaker was no where in Jace’s line of sight. “Please. Keeping looking around like a spotted target. Draw all the attention to you that’s exactly what we want right now.”

Seconds later after a few clicks and ticks the aforementioned washer and dryer had slowly swung open like a swinging kitchen door. A man about six feet dark black hair and bright blue eyes poked his head out. Taking a quick once over of Jace motioned him with his forefinger.

“Cmon now. Before the old ladies take notice I can’t keep this door longer than two minutes the smoke with draw more attention that you have since you’ve walked in.”

It was a tightly fit of a corridor dark with torches attached to the walls to light up the walk way. After a few yards and a quick left right turns. They were in front of a metal door that did not look like it belonged there.

But was Jace in any right to say so out loud? He was willingly let himself be led a dark corridor in the most criminal way possible.

“When we get in do NOT take a look of surprise. In face you must look blasé.” The bellhop quickly whispered in a voice meant for only someone as close as Jace was standing to hear.

After a few rapid knocks and a kick of his metal tipped shoe. The metal door creaked slowly to reveal a magnificent bar room. The walls seemed to glitter with crystals reflecting off a blue hue that Jace couldn’t quite figure out what it had reminded him of.

“A speakeasy. I’ve -“ The words died in his throat it took a couple of clearings to get his voice working again. “You’ve got me playing in an illegal den.”

“Welcome to the Blind Tiger. Where one of your senses are gone all the others enhances.” The guy was grinning admiration shone in his eyes as he was if he too were looking at the place for the very first time. “My names Alexander by the way. You and I are going to be well aquatinted after today.”

Jace didn’t see it at the moment but behind the stage of dancers a particular red head had taken notice of his arrival. Her eyes never ceasing to trail after him.

[brilliantfantasticgeronimo]

60th Anniversary Doctor Who Rewatch – “The Unquiet Death” takes

(Hello. This is part of a series of on-going posts covering my analysis / impressions of RTD-era doctor who episodes (and spin-offs?) as I revisit them.* The **approach of this is candid and informal, with aim to be cleaned up in the future.*)

(I’m dividing this analysis into the following categories:COMPANION WATCH(characterization analysis of the companion for that episode)/THE TIMELESS CHILD RETROACTIVE CONTINUITY BONUS (stuff that Hits Different after knowing the TTC)/ **BLORBOS(things that made me emotional re: characters / ships) THEMES(exploration of possible associations, metaphors and recurring themes)/ COLONIALISM/HEGEMONY (political critiques) / ENVIRONMENT (how the set design or architecture plays a role in the story). Note that not all the episodes may cover these points, it will depend on the episode.)

(These posts will be the basis for a larger live-document that will change according to feedback and BTS material that I encounter in the future. For now think of these posts as advanced-drafts being sent for fandom-peer-review).

COMPANION WATCH:

The bit of Rose putting the slimy old man in his place is pretty awesome. It gives me Jackie Tyler vibes as well, for some reason!

Rose Tytler regularly skipped school to go to the mall and look at boys. I stan one (1) normie. (also, it's criminal Rose and Gwen Cooper never interact, honestly!).

It's a small thing but I find it charming rose already is like "you opened the doors last time so now it's my turn!". Rose has this thing with really managing to… let’s say “keep the pants in the relationship” that I think a lot of companion/doctor dynamics strive to do, but don’t always feel genuine/don’t commit to it? But Rose manages at times to keep the power dynamics somewhat balanced (probably from her experiences with dating older guys like Jimmy Stone and Mickey?).

Then again, this episode also gives us the "Accept the way I do things, or go home". Which is a major power move from The Doctor. "You can leave if you want (I'm tempting to firing you), but I know you won't (you'll do what I think it's best)".

"You've got all the clothes and the breeding, but you talk like some sort of wild thing. / Maybe I am. Maybe that's a good thing" Rose as a sex positive activist :)

THEMES Bodies as a resource that becomes more valuable once its dead. Once again separation of the “body” from the “personsoul/consciousness** Modern Hypocrisy. Diplomacy and Negotiation (once again not working). Grief, Mourning and “Respect for the Dead”. Class (the Classic Rose/Gwen dialogue but also ‘’You look like a navvie” (from Dickens to the Doc). Margins: Cardiff, not London. Undertakers? Ghostly Christmas (paganism?). Atheism (falsely questioned?). Science Fiction vs Realist Fiction. Nine fighting / doctoring as his way of “Dancing” (“I think this is my dance” *as he saves Rose from the zombie). Fatality as in literal death and as in an attitude towards life. Illusions vs Reality (Dicken’s dilemma but also the “escapist” aspect of Rose’s travels meeting the reality of having to make tough calls). Time / Death. Destiny. Telepathy. We get also a biiit of an introduction to the whole “Earth’s self-determination” thing the New Series explores (Gwenivere should make the call of what happens to her).

BLORBOS:

Nine referring to Rose as “Barbarella”…….. coughhisroleplayscenariocough

"you look beautiful... considering that you're human" is this another nine stupid apes moment or nine's first "curse of the timelords" moment?

THE TIMELESS CHILD RETROACTIVE CONTINUITY BONUS:

The Child could have come from the (a) rift? see:

DOCTOR: Means it's getting stronger, the rift's getting wider and something's sneaking through / ROSE: What's the rift? / DOCTOR: A weak point in time and space. A connection between this place and another. That's the cause of ghost stories, most of the time.

Dickens gives us some parallels to The Doctor’s curse of immortality:

"Absolutely. I was just brooding. Christmas Eve. Not the best of times to be alone. "/ I've been rather, let's say, clumsy, with family matters. Thank God I'm too old to cause any more trouble. / You speak as though it's all over, sir. / No, it's never over. On and on I go, the same old show. I'm like a ghost, condemned to repeat myself for all eternity. "

ENVIRONMENT: the final confrontation taking place on a basement signaling the “Underground War” theme of s1. Dicken’s performance signaling the self-referential/post-modern vibe of the New Series (show within a show).

COLONIALISM / HEGEMONY: couple points… this is the kind of episodes that the more I thought about the implications the more uncomfortable it got, unfortunately.

History in *theory* being in “flux” and regrettable, but ultimately the Status Quo must be preserved. Many times aliens will come asking for help, whether genuinely or not the show's format is restricted on legitimately changing the status quo of earht, bc it means distancing the audience from "that" version of earth.

Implicit in the mythos of the Time War and The Shadow Proclamation is the notion of human societies being “advanced” (and thus other societies being "primitive". We discover that the Time War was “Invisible to smaller species but devastating to higher forms”. What does this mean? What is a “smaller species” and what is a “higher form”? Also, we know from episode 1 that the earth’s position in the “technological scale” makes it vulnerable to “invaders”. There’s a lot of assumptions implicit in this whole set up: that a technologically “superior” civilization will *always* invade a “lower” one (a kind of naturalization of colonialism), that technological advancements can be categorized this way in a progressive 1-10 scale, and that "a societies is defined by its tech" (presumably The Shadow Proclamation defines tech in the narrow, “tools and science” definition, and not the wider anthropological "any ideas that produce a desired effect" definition).

There’s a bit of an Atheist vs Supernatural thing going on in this episode. The UK is at its core still largely a Christian country, but it’s been progressively shifting with time to an atheist / agnostic one as the ruling classes has distanced from its primary tool of consent making (Christians were 71.6% on the uk's 2001 census, 59.3% on the 2011 census vs 46.2% on the 2021 one). So, it makes sense the writing reflects this anxiety. It gets a bit bizarre though…to explain, let’s look at the crux of Dickens arc, found in this dialogue:

"I've always railed against the fantasists. Oh, I loved an illusion as much as the next man, rebelled in them, but that's exactly what they were, illusions. The real world is something else. I dedicated myself to that. Injustices, the great social causes. I hoped that I was a force for good. Now you tell me that the real world is a realm of specters and jack-o'-lanterns. In which case, have I wasted my brief span here, Doctor? Has it all been for nothing?"

But... his worldview is truly being challenged by the situation. There IS a rational explanation to the “ghosts”, there aren’t “specters and jack-o.lanterns” in the who-world (eu voice: not after The Anchoring Of The Thread!). Dickens walks from the story with the impression that irrationality is True and There’s Life After Death and that he’s wasted his time writing about “the great social causes”. Again… it’s strange. I’m not sure the episode is aware it is doing this?

Finally we get the Really uncomfortable (unintentional?) allegory of this episode…

->The Gelth are refugees from a war between “superior civilizations”. -> The Gelth intentionally lie about their numbers and resources they need. ->They lie about being a “couple hundred”- turns out they’re billions! ->Earthlings cannot share their land with them. Because they will take “everything”. ->The only solution is to kill them, they’re too duplicitous and aggressive to do anything else! ->(And once again, like with the Nestene... there’s not really a grappling with how it was the Time Lords' fault that this is even happened).

[phelpsxmancil98]

Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction

Criminal Minds AU, Reid/OC

After Meave's untimely death Spencer never thought he'd find another love, he didn't think it possible that he could love someone else as much as he did Meave. Yet here he was falling head over heels for a gorgeous stranger in red, who might very well be the unsub in the B.A.U's latest case.

Song for the chapter: How'm I Supposed to Die by Civil Twilight

She stood alone by the corner waiting there, waiting on the shiny blue Corvette to pull up in front of her and the man with the pretty hazel eyes telling her to hop in for their date. Wearing a sparkly red bow-knot dress and matching red lips the auburn haired lady tucked her phone in her clutch purse, tapping the toe of her black velvet heels.

Although appearing impatient to passing tourists she was far from being agitated at the late arrival of her company for the evening. Pulling a pack of cigarettes from her clutch she fired one up and stuck it in her mouth with a sigh, "I should really stick to men without children."

While pacing back and forth she heard the faint rumble of a car engine rolling up to greet her from behind, giving a grin from ear to ear towards the driver behind the wheel. Bright, hazel eyes and a charming smile set against sunkissed skin.

Dean Tomàs.

Beat cop for the seaside city of Santa Cruz, California. Handsome, funny, incredibly tall when standing next to her elfish five foot height. He held the passenger door open for her as she took her last hit and tossed the cigarette aside, "You look absolutely stunning. That dress really compliments your hair."

His eyes roamed from the top of her head all the way down to the french tips of her toes and back up to her face after pausing once again at her chest, all wanton and hot.

"Why, thank you, kind sir. You look rather dashing as well," the woman beamed at him with a megawatt smile. "I hate to ask on our way to the restaurant, but I seem to be running low on menthols and was wondering if you minded stopping somewhere before we go eat?"

Dean shook his head and chuckled, "I don't mind at all. I just hope our reservation hasn't fallen through. My apologies for the late arrival. My daughter stalled me for as long as I would allow her." Once his date was tucked away in the seat of his Corvette he shut the door behind her and took his place again behind the wheel, riding off towards the nearest convenient store.

The auburn-haired woman laughed. A light, tinkling laugh that made Dean's heart swell with awe. It was a beautiful sound. "I bet you've had a hard time getting dates with her around. I imagine she's lovely though."

"Oh, she is. Delia is amazingly perspective for her age and she knows how important it is for daddy to get some time to himself every once in awhile."

His date turned towards him leaning forward ever so slightly, making sure he saw everything he thought he was getting later. She smiled sweetly at him placing her hand on his knee, eyelids drooping just enough so that she was peaking at him underneath her eyelashes. "And what exactly would you consider alone time?"

Dean tore his eyes away from the road to look down at her hand lingering on his knee, to her cleavage staring him down, and cleared his throat. Don't get distracted now, old boy.

"When the weather's right I like to go fishing, but most of the time I enjoy settling in my study with a good book or I visit the beach for a stroll. Nothing more relaxing than getting into a novel or walking through the tide at your ankles."

Her hand inched further up his leg as they grew close to the brightly lit store up ahead, "You sound like my kind of guy."

Dean thought he felt like he knew what was about to happen next, but he didn't know that what was about to happen would be the last thing he ever experienced in his life.

When the Corvette stopped again he unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to the gorgeous woman sitting beside him, mouth open to ask her what brand of cigarettes she smokes. Except no sound would escape him for the gorgeous woman beside him had his throat in her teeth before he could get out a word, jumping onto his lap from where she had sat previously.

Dean didn't feel the pain at first, eyes rolling back into his head as a wave of euphoria rolled through his body from the top of his head to the point of his toes. He thought he had died and went to heaven at first, then came the excruciating agony of feeling his flesh being torn apart.

He struggled and tried to scream, but she pinned him down with ease and continued her attack on his neck until he began to feel lightheaded. His last thought was to God, begging the almighty savior to rescue him from this torment. From death.

But he took his last breath, sagging against the seat.

o . O . o . O . o

"Georgia Phipps, Kimberly Madden, Anthony Richards, and Dean Tomás. Do any of these names ring a bell to you, Miss Dragomir?"

JJ started the interrogation with a bold face, "You were close by when the body of Mr. Tomás was discovered, correct?"

The red-haired lady slowly blinked at them, appearing tired with dark rings circling around her unusual green eyes. They almost appeared as if they were glowing they were so bright, dazzling even. Light and gray and blue all at the same time.

It was like looking at a doll. Perhaps she was bored of the whole situation? This strange woman who sat ramrod straight, hands elegantly folded in her lap. The hands of a pianist, or an artist perhaps. Long, slender fingers. Her fingernails were neat and perfectly manicured, no nervous nail-biting habit noted.

Even Reid had to admit, sitting across from this Alyce Dragomir, she exuded confidence and a devil-may-care attitude in waves. It made him feel as if he were being choked by his button down collar all of a sudden, his own fingers digging at the knot of his anchor tie.

The woman's voice when she spoke was like fine silk, soft and strong. "Excuse me? Of course I was close by, I had gotten stood up by my date not too far away. In front of a cute little boutique on the corner I intend on shopping at during business hours. I think it was called The Grey Lady?"

Reid exchanged glances with JJ wanting to scoff, JJ raising her eyebrows as she shot off quickly with her next question.

"I'm sorry, but you got stood up?"

Alyce wanted to show emotion, she thought of laughing or smiling, but she simply sank back rather comfortably in the hard metal-frame chair and gave a pout.

"My friend set me up on a blind date and I guess the guy got cold feet. I don't usually dress up like this for nothing."

Reid studied her every move, every slight breath. She flourished a wave over herself to emphasize the sparkly, red dress with it's bow top and pleated skirt. His eyes lingered a little too long on the curve of her neck and the smooth texture of her slim shoulders.

He was starting to doubt this Alyce had anything to do with these murders. She was so tiny, there was no logical answer to how this woman sitting before them could overtake someone like Dean Tomás.

"And this friend of yours, does he or she have a name?"

"Elizabeth Ramirez, but when you talk to her don't call her Elizabeth or Miss Ramirez. She hates her biological name. Call her Eliza."

JJ began to twirl the pen she had been gripping to the point of her fingertips burning, something screaming inside her that something was off with Alyce. "Excuse me? As far as the B.A.U. is concerned you aren't under arrest, Miss Dragomir. There is no need to talk to anyone else, unless you think they are involved in this case somehow. We are just collecting witness statements."

Finally Alyce broke out into a smile, wide and toothy like a shark getting ready to reach out for a bite. "Then I guess that means I'm free to walk out of here if I so wanted? Because as far as I'm concerned all of the other witnesses that gathered at the crime scene were interviewed on site and I was the only one who had been escorted here by police cruiser."

Reid cleared his throat and flexed his fingers, curling and uncurling them before setting them in his lap under the table. "While that is true we aren't done questioning you, Miss Dragomir, and even though we have no evidence to link you to the crime legally we can hold you for as long as it takes for you to answer our questions."

Before Alyce could respond JJ fired another question at her, "You don't happen to know the name of the guy your friend Eliza was trying to set you up with, do you? That way we can confirm your story."

Alyce wanted to glare, narrow her eyes and shoot daggers at the two agents, but she relaxed her face. Another blank, tired stare. She was definitely bored, Reid noted.

She didn't care. This man's death was of no concern for this Alyce Dragomir. Dean Tomás was simply another name, another dead man.

"Yeah, sure do. Kinda hard to forget the name Clark Smith. It's so boring, isn't it? So plain, almost vanilla. I bet he prefers missionary and likes watching Jeopardy reruns."

JJ wanted to grimace or laugh, "Did you happen to see anything or anyone unusual before the crowd gathered at the crime scene?" It was hard to keep her emotions in check for some reason. The room suddenly felt ten degrees hotter, sweat was starting to bead at her hairline.

"Other than the many flashing red and blue police lights, uniformed officers, and the CSI team? No, and I didn't hear anything either if you were going to follow up with that question. I was listening to music while I was waiting on my ride. When I saw the commotion I became curious and had to see what everyone was gossiping about."

They were getting nowhere. Every question they asked she had a straight-forward, calm response. No sign of deceit. No twitch, no tuck of the hair behind the ear. Not even a bite of the lip or a break in eye contact.

Within the next thirty minutes Alyce Dragomir was gliding out the building's entrance door, heels clicking fluidly on the linoleum flooring while her hair bounced gently behind her and every male officer gazed after her with something akin to longing in their eyes. Quite a few women were even caught staring and once Alyce was gone everyone returned to normal like a hypnotic fog had been lifted over the atmosphere.

[grayrazor]

“Who Watches Me in My Room?”

                Janet froze when she heard the dozens of tiny legs clicking on the linoleum.  She slid behind a large freestanding painting in the lobby and tried to breathe as quietly as she could.  There could be no peeking out to see whether the policething was approaching her direction, if even a hair showed from behind her concealment it would be seen by one of the policething’s eyestalks and the jig would be up.  The clicking receded into the distance, but she waited until she could hear it no longer before allowing herself to move again.  Getting captured was bad enough, but a thing would, likely as not, just shoot her dead without attempting an arrest.  Policethings weren’t built for nuance. 

She rounded the corner and took the stairs up to the next story.  The city lights out the window below looked like a mirror of the stars above, but even from up in the Tower you could see that it was not a peaceful night.  Spotlight beams flashed and swept in the smoke from a burning building, and police choppers circled like flies around a corpse.  At the stairwell’s top Janet halted again: in the brass handrail she had seen the reflection of two guards.  Either they had changed the patrol rotation, or that police sergeant that Dave had bribed had been feeding them lies, the sightlines were supposed to be completely clear in this hallway at this time.  Janet crouched down to her haunches behind the wall and considered her options.  If she made it out of this she would never hear the end of it from Colette, who kept insisting that the plan was made to too tight a tolerance.  Unfortunately, counting on things being in precise places at precise times was the only way that they had made it this far.  The sheer clockwork predictability of City Government was what made this plan possible to begin with.

A sudden noise startled Janet out of her considerations.  One of the guards seemed to be having a coughing fit.  He removed his black helmet and visor, and then dropped them involuntarily as he doubled over and began hacking and wheezing like a cat with a hairball.  Janet hastily looked around the corner, unsatisfied with the detail of the reflection.  The second guard ran to her comrade’s side, asking frantically if he was all right, and Janet took the opportunity to dash past them to the office.  The continued barking noise of the incapacitated guard echoed down the corridor, and perfectly covered the sounds of Janet’s footsteps and the office doors sliding open with a whirr of servomotors.

The office was indeed unoccupied.  That mayoral itinerary that Ronald had stolen from the computer of a government car was proving its worth.  Janet had never thought in all her life that she would see the inside of the mayor’s office.  Of course, when City News aired a story about an upcoming announcement about a new initiative that would end the “criminal mischief” of the opposing parties there was no choice but to get someone inside.  They had no idea how much time they would have, so their cell had to have everyone take risks that in any other situation would have been unconscionable.  Even the new converts, the most inexperienced, had to take dangerous gambles in order to find something that might get them a foot in the door.  Colette, the one who had insisted from the start that they should just bury themselves deeper and wait this out, had still done her part without complaint when the time came.  She had befriended an office worker from this building who ate lunch at the café where she worked; she deduced the inner layout of the rooms and halls from what must have been hours of what would have seemed like idle gossip.

Still, even this far into the project, she seemed to be dangling above the abyss of failure by the finest cord.  Not only had there been the oblivious policething and the coughing guard, before that she had gotten past a security checkpoint only because of a distracting noise in the vent.  For all her skill, Janet had only made it here because of the whim of chance.  She almost didn’t even believe that she had made it, was half expecting at any moment to wake up in a jail cell and taken away to the gas chamber.  It took some time of anxious waiting before her senses finally convinced her of the truth that she was in the most secure room in the city, and moments from now she would be witness to the mayor’s private meeting with the head of City Secret Police.

Janet was so on edge that it felt like she waited for hours, hidden behind a guest couch and a potted tropical tree-fern.  The bulletproof glass doors sliding open snapped her concentration into sharp focus.  Mayor Marie Hudson had arrived.  Janet looked at her wristwatch to see if the schedule they had was accurate, but the batteries had died and the screen was blank.  The only other clock in this room was on the desk that Hudson was now sitting behind, at an angle where Janet couldn’t see the time.  There would be no telling how long it would be before the meeting’s scheduled time.  The Mayor had begun working frantically with her computer’s mouse and keyboard.  It definitely wasn’t what was usually thought of as a mayor’s paperwork or administration.  Those usually didn’t have sound effects.  From the screen reflection in Hudson’s glasses Janet guessed it was something from the classical canon, like Quake.

Antique computer entertainment was hardly the Mayor’s only indulgence.  Through her soft boots Janet could feel the richness of the carpet, which was decorated in vivid colors and a mix of floral, feathery, and arabesque patterns.  Janet had to position herself carefully to keep her reflection from being visible in any of the countless polished marble surfaces or gold trim, a mix of classical, baroque, gothic, and art-deco styles thrown together in a particularly tacky way.  At the least there would be no recording devices here, not even film or magnetic tape.  In the City, the government records the citizens so that it can immediately know when they are guilty of crimes, not the other way around.

When Janet looked back at the Mayor’s desk, Controller One was standing there.  She bit her tongue violently in an attempt to keep from jumping in surprise at its sudden appearance.  The department head of City Secret Police and foremost of the policethings had appeared without a sound or a disturbance of the air during the moment when Janet had looked away.  Controller One was more human-shaped than most policethings, but only in a sort of abstract way.  It had a blank face like a mannequin or a suit of armor, with two blue-glowing rectangles where a human’s eyes would be.  Its shiny body always made Janet think of her mom’s old coffee machine.  In the checkered contours of its casing the room was reflected in its full detail, but distorted.  Hudson regarded the Controller above her glasses briefly in irritation, but kept her head pointed at the screen until it addressed her directly.  “Marie, I am here to brief you upon the developments my department has made.”  Controller One’s voice was disturbing even for a policething.  It was too human, you could almost hear wet lips and tongue smacking against each other, the heavy breathing of tired lungs, despite the fact that all of the sounds were just synthesized and played on a speaker.

Hudson grumbled, and paused her game with exaggerated key presses, “Yeah, what is it?”

Controller One always conveyed the utmost respect with its body language and tone of voice.  Even when making an arrest or interrogating a prisoner it always sounded like a disappointed parent or teacher at its worst, “The research you commissioned upon the topic of improved intelligence-gathering methods has had negative results.”

The Mayor tilted her head, “How’s ‘at?”

“We have performed exhaustive experiments in the field of inflicting physical pain to a suspect for the purposes of information extraction,” the policething’s face followed Hudson’s as she slouched over.  “At best, the procedure was only twenty-six point five percent effective.  All data show that innocent subjects are equally likely to confess as guilty ones, and guilty ones are eighty-one point seven percent likely to fabricate intelligence on topics they have no actual knowledge of in the hopes of satiating their interrogators.  Subjects motivated to criminal activity by devotion, loyalty, or fanaticism rather than self-interest showed an even lower positive result rate.”

“Eh?”

Controller One pantomimed clearing its nonexistent throat, “Ahem, the practical takeaway is that torture does not work.”  The Mayor started to raise one finger as if to make a point, but the policething interrupted, “I know what you’re going to say.  ‘Why don’t we just threaten their families?  If they’re so selfless, surely they would sacrifice themselves to save others?’”

Hudson rested her chin on her fist, leaned forward over her desk, “Don’t you go moralizing to me!  These rebels need to be stopped!  We must have law and order in this city, anything is justified to that end!”  Janet was aghast as it gradually dawned on her that their hated enemy, the one they were working so hard to overthrow, had committed so many atrocities and was running the City into the ground not as part of some diabolical plan to hold on to power, but out of sheer apathy and laziness.

The policething crossed its arms, “Please, Marie, we talked about this.  You may not care up here in your tower, but I have to deal with the citizens on the streets every day.  We can’t just throw around terms like ‘rebel’ carelessly.  People like rebels.  Rebels are righteous, romantic, exciting, cool, sexy.  These people who we are trying to stop are criminals, guilty of sedition, terrorism, and conspiracy to overthrow the government.  They are murderers of innocents and destroyers of public and Company property.”

Janet mouthed silently a rant about how they weren’t the ones who were kicking down doors, firing blindly into crowds, and setting apartment blocks on fire, but Controller One continued.  “We need to look like the good guys that we are.  If we go around threatening harm, or worse, doing it because the target is someone that one of our enemies cares about, then it will serve as a recruitment tool for this criminal gang and we will spawn three new terrorists for every head that we sever from this beast.”  The policething leaned forward and folded its hands, “I have consulted on this issue at length with all seven Police Citadel AIs and they all have assured me of the veracity of these data in no uncertain terms.”

Hudson leaned back in her chair again, and rolled back a bit from her mahogany desk, “All right then, what’s your big plan then, smart guy?”

“I realize that you are being sarcastic, but I have taken the initiative of preparing an alternative method for acquiring vital intelligence.”

The Mayor pushed her glasses up by the bridge with her middle finger and frowned, “Do tell.”

“While it may be less cathartic for you than all that good-cop bad-cop melodrama with the interrogations at gunpoint and beatings and electrocution and simulated drowning and thumbscrews and so forth, there are technologies that are nearing maturity that may be of great use to us.”

Hudson waved dismissively, “Whatever.  How’s it work?”

“While most previous efforts in practical interrogation have been directed in psychology, I believe that there is untapped potential in studying the human brain as a machine.  The same technology that is already widely used for mental device control can be used for more invasive analysis of the information in the unconscious mind as well as the conscious.  I found a doctor who was experimenting with the technique in order to map the human psyche for the sake of developing next-generation artificial intelligence,” Controller One placed its hands on its hips contemplatively.  “My department has seized the research, and after significant analysis four of the seven Citadel AIs believe they can use the technique to identify the patterns in a person’s mind that relate to specific concepts and images and translate them into usable data.”  The policething leaned down with its hands on Hudson’s desk, so their faces were almost level.  “The process is painless and there are no side-effects, so someone could be scanned without their knowledge if a suitable excuse could be derived for attaching the electrodes.  Furthermore, it only affects the unconscious mind and memory, so even if someone knew that they were being scanned they could not withhold information nor mislead us.”

The Mayor stood up and slammed her fist on the table, “So you’re telling me it’s foolproof?  We catch one rebel, we know everything about their organization?”

Controller One stood up straight again, “Remember Marie, criminal not rebel.  It is important to keep in mind that we could still be fed misinformation through the device.  It can only tell us what a person believes, not whether that belief is true or false.  Fortunately, I am confident in saying that if the insurgency is as large and organized as we believe it to be, they would be unable to function if they had to constantly deceive their own operatives.”

Janet smiled.  They still had one edge on SecPol.  There was no organized insurgency, not in the same way as the Government or the Company.  Each cell operated mostly independently, and the leader of each cell only had contact with the person above them, not with any of the other cell leaders.  Even if their machine can read minds they would still have to track down every group of resistance members one-by-one, and they could never be sure where new ones were being formed.

Hudson walked in front of her desk and put her arm around Controller One’s shoulders, “I love our new plan!  We’ll have them running in circles, always looking over their shoulder!”  She smacked the policething on the back, “When do we start?”

The Mayor’s gestures did not move Controller One at all.  In spite of her weight and impact he stayed perfectly in the same pose like a statue.  “The first prototype units are completing testing even as we speak.  Mass production of the standard-issue units should begin as soon as the Company finishes their bids.”

“This was a good talk.  I think we got a lot accomplished today,” Hudson wandered towards the doors, which dutifully slid away as she drew near.  “Let me know how it goes.  I’m off to lunch.”  Janet felt inclined at that comment to glance briefly back at the window to confirm it was indeed still dark outside.

Though the Mayor had left, Controller One was still standing before her desk like a toy soldier at attention.  Janet decided that a one-time opportunity had presented itself.  Not only could she warn her cell, and hopefully the rest of the resistance, about the new threat, she could cut the head off the serpent that was SecPol.  She could end Controller One right here, right now, giving them an opportunity to do as much damage to the Government and the Company as possible while they built a Controller Two and the lesser policethings were reduced to the mindless invertebrates that they were while the Citadel AIs bickered among themselves.

She crept out from behind her cover, her soft boots on the thick carpet making no sound at all.  She drew her high-frequency knife and moved cautiously towards Controller One’s back.  When she was within reach it would just take a flick of the switch and some aggressive slashing motions and the policething would be reduced to a pile of plastic shards and synthetic guts on the floor.  Just another meter.  Only another couple steps.  One more.

“Hello, Janet.  You know it is rather rude of you to attend a staff meeting and not contribute,” Janet froze, her nerves turning to ice in an instant.  Controller One did not turn to face her even as he continued speaking, “You know, I was unaware that you had been invited to this meeting.  How things do slip my mind.”  It was a statue with a speaker now: talking, but not moving or emoting.  “Nevertheless, I am very glad that you were able to attend.  How have Thomas and the baby been doing?” Controller One considered itself on a first-name basis with everyone, which probably seemed only fair to it since it knew more about most people than their own families did.  Its voice was the same as it had been when it was talking to Mayor Hudson, it did not bear a trace of sarcasm or self-aware irony.

Janet broke free of her fear and swung her knife, its blade activated and vibrating.  Controller One effortlessly grabbed her wrist with one hand without turning around, then lifted her up off the floor by it.  It brought her around in front of itself, the pressure of its grip eventually forcing her to drop her knife.  The weapon’s safety activated when it left her grasp and it plopped to the floor, no longer buzzing.  “Please, Janet, do act your age.  You know for a fact there is no way that you could kill me in a fight without the element of surprise,” Janet did know that for a fact.  Controller One pointed at its face with two fingers of its free hand, “Your first mistake was in assuming that these glowing features on the front of my head are my eyes.  They’re not.  I’ve been aware of your presence from the moment I entered Marie’s office.  The element of surprise was something you never had.”

Janet was getting sick of the policething’s condescending attitude, “Get on with it then!  Either kill me where I stand or drag me off to your brainsucker machine!”  Her free hand involuntarily tightened into a fist.

Controller One opened his hand, allowing Janet to fall, “Janet, you may leave.”

She looked up at Controller One, slack-jawed.

“You are free to return home.  No charges are being pressed for trespassing on Government property.  You may have an escort to your habitation block if you desire it, the streets can be quite unsafe at night.  If you wish, I can have a Government car give you a ride.”  Controller One’s tone of voice and posture had not changed, but to Janet it seemed like it had become a terrible black monolith towering above her menacingly, “Though Marie wanted this to be a classified top-secret meeting, I think it’s fair that it doesn’t apply to you.  I won’t make you sign any non-disclosure agreements.  Go and tell all your friends about how we know all their secrets and how their freedom is maintained only because we suffer it to be so.”

“But-”

“Why?  Because the insurgency is over.  There is no longer anything you can do to stop us.  It will be much more efficient to arrest your gang all at once than to take you now and them later.”

***

Janet was escorted off the premises.  She caught a cab back to the Lower City, refused both the lift and the escort.  As soon as her cab passed the last working traffic camera she allowed herself a small grin of satisfaction in the flickering sodium light of the old streetlamps.  Could the SecPol really be so arrogant that they let her go?  How badly they understood human psychology after all!  News of the new weapon wouldn’t frighten off the resistance, it would embolden them.  The Government had provided them with a problem they were already halfway towards having a countermeasure for.  Even barring the cells isolating each other from sharing intelligence, they had lots of people inside the Company who would probably be able to devise a countermeasure to the mind-scanner or whatever it was and keep people from even betraying their own cells.  The City Government’s biggest mistake was in trusting their War on Resistance to the policethings.  Machine learning had a long way to go to catch up with human unpredictability.

***

Humans were never more predictable than when they were consciously trying to be unpredictable.  Eliminate a few choice variables and they always fell back into one of a limited set of patterns.  So Controller One mused to itself as Citizen Janet’s taxi passed through the last tunnel to the Old City and beyond its telescopic vision.  Marie would probably be unhappy when she learned that the new plan had been leaked to the public, but one could only imagine how livid she would be if she learned who had engineered that piece of information falling into resistance hands.  With the insurgency and the Mayor’s office engaged in their petty schemes of maneuvers and countermaneuvers City Secret Police would be well positioned to increase its standing in both Government and Company matters.  If only the Citadel AIs were so easy to manipulate, but they spent enough time arguing with each other anyways.  Before long, Controller One’s name would refer to more than just the police department.

[artaacari]

16. Criminal

Ukrainian version on Facebook

Chloe Bourgeois was sitting on her luxurious bed and trying to take the perfect selfie. But something kept getting in the way: sometimes the pole of the canopy fell into the frame, sometimes the lighting was wrong, sometimes the stupid phone saved the picture upside down. She could spend the whole evening on this activity, until there was a knock on the open window.

And it was very strange, considering that Chloe lived on the top floor of the hotel. But not for the residents of Paris - since recently there has been no safe place left in the city.

So the blonde dropped the phone from her hands and rushed to the sound. After a few steps, she stopped in the middle of the room, not seeing anyone.

But the window was indeed open. All you could see was a flat cut where the handle was and what looked like a small soap bubble.

And that caused Chloe to panic even more than if she had encountered a ninja dressed in head-to-toe black in her suite.

Someone even more dangerous penetrated her.

The first thing Chloe mentioned was her shoe collection. The girl rushed to the closet, but everything was in place there. It was possible to breathe a sigh of relief, but after the latest news on TV, it made her even more wary.

They never just come.

Confused, Chloe checked her dressing table, another wardrobe, and even a stash in the bathroom, but there were no signs of a break-in. She began to think that some fool was playing a trick on her, until she heard a metallic clang in the next room.

It wasn't her room anymore, so Chloe thought about it. And then she remembered what might be there, and ran as if her life depended on it.

Well, maybe not so dramatically, but prosperity definitely hung in the balance. After all, the thief had a safe there!

Only in front of the door, Chloe realized that there was nothing she could do against the robbers. Scaring them with the police was too banal, the hotel security was too far away, and Mademoiselle Bourgeois herself could not show off her black belt in karate. Her main weapon was a sharp tongue. And those who thought that it would not cause serious injuries were very mistaken.

The final choice was accelerated by another noise outside the door - Chloe burst into the room with a simply furious expression on her face. How dare they!

The couple next to the open safe slowly looked around, blowing away the smoke after another attempt to break the last layer of protection. A guy in heavy glasses and a cap hid his face under a bandana, on which all possible acid colors were mixed. The rest of his clothes were also conspicuous, and the most suspicious was the small balloon behind his back, dressed as a backpack. The girl next to him could have eclipsed many models from the catwalks, but chose a deep purple flowing suit with shimmering white details. She only held a phone in her hands - and it was thanks to her that no one in the huge house noticed the criminal break-in.

- Hey, you are there! - Chloe could not stand it. - Get out of here! This is private property!

She looked very confident, but the thieving couple just laughed quietly.

- That's how we don't touch the house, - assured the boy nicknamed Bubbler. - We'll just borrow some money from your dad.

- Monsieur Bourgeois doesn't pay taxes anyway, - added his partner, known as Lady Wi-Fi, in a sweet voice.

And without paying much attention to the witness, they began to collect bills, jewelry and all sorts of things from the safe in big black bags.

Chloe could attack them with angry fury - but then she would simply be put to sleep for a couple of hours with a special gas, the composition of which was a mystery even to the police. Or they would have done something else with her, no less unpleasant, because this couple had so many trump cards that some seemed like comic book superpowers.

- One day you will be caught! And you will pay for everything!

It was the only thing she could do - leave the stage spectacularly. Of course, then you will have to explain to the officers again what happened, take a photo with them and sign a bunch of papers. But let them investigate, that's their job!

And Chloe can always move to her mother in New York for a while.

- That's how we collect money to pay! - Bubbler got out inventively. - Well, let's leave a little for the wedding trip to the Caribbean, right, little one?

He turned his closed face to his Lady, who just squinted dreamily. Her eyelids were painted with fluorescent paints.

- With you - at least to the end of the world!

[weepingvoidpenguin]

Unfortunately Yours

Summary: When you and Bucky successfully infiltrate a HYDRA auction, you’re told to stay another day due to max capacity on the jet. But how are you going to survive a night alone with this insufferable Super Soldier? Especially considering the miniscule size of the room and the obvious dilemma presented; who gets the bed?

Warning: S M U T , the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written, language, spit kink, daddy kink, ptsd symptoms, slight voyeurism, slight exhibitionism, hate-s e x, rough, more like enemies-to-lovers kind of thing, gagging, m!receiving, f!receiving, lots of receiving lol, 18+, M

Word Count: 10.6K (Whhhyyyyy)

   Your body burned with exhaustion and the sheer weight of your extremities felt enough to drag you to the floor and mirror a coma with the length of your hibernation. You no longer had the minimal strength required to pick up your feet properly which resulted in the sound of shuffling to fill the small, and by small you meant miniscule, room you’d been assigned to. 

   Well, you and Bucky had been assigned to.

   You’d both played your parts well enough over the course of the last few hours. You’d sauntered into the ran-shacked looking bar with Bucky’s arm tossed lazily over your shoulder, his distaste for the assignment evident on his face, but he’d cleared it away the second his foot crossed the threshold. He pulled you in tighter to his body and raised his chin into the air, emitting the energy of a man not to be trifled with. You’d portrayed your role as a damsel just as, if not more, convincing as Barnes’ opposite. Your shoulders hunched over and your steps were small and quivering, the wig on your head a tool used to curtain the hair in your face. 

   You were the lamb to this White Wolf.

   Word had traveled through the dark and twisted grapevine that a certain showing of sorts took place tonight and a high-ranking target was rumored to be amongst its audience. You and Barnes were on the first flight to Germany within minutes.

   Bucky had pulled you through the crowd moving along to the thundering music in the background and halted at the edge of the bar. His grip on your shoulder tightened once he’d caught the man’s attention and you winced, his fingers digging a little too deep for your liking.

   The bartender scanned you over and took in your frame, making you feel smaller than you had already displayed yourself to be. It took him a while to conclude but when he took in Bucky’s domineering gaze, a look as if to say Deny me, I dare you, he nodded once and wrote something down on a napkin, sliding it over to Bucky.

   Scum. All of them. 

   You nearly blew your cover trying to throw Bucky a look but you refrained from the hellfire clawing its way out of you. You had to be perfectly in control, emotions and beliefs aside. You were a damsel and you had to make certain they believed that. You knew they were watching; they always were.

   “Relax,” Bucky hissed, pulling you under his arm and bringing his lips to your ear.

   “When you pretend you’re the one being put up for auction, then you can tell me to relax,” you muttered, never looking up from the ground.

   “I have been.” When you paused your movement, he pulled away to scan the room, “Nothing’s gonna happen to you. I promise.” He led you backstage and turned the corner to a dimly lit hallway, barren of any decoration in sharp contrast to every other section of the building, “Besides, once they realize how insufferable you are, they’ll be begging me to take you back,”

   He opened an iron door and pushed you into the room, sending you tumbling down onto the carpet. He tsked, stepping over you and not looking back after shutting the door behind himself. You counted thirteen pairs of feet and judging by the way some of them were turned towards you, they had to be watching. You observed your hands for a second, counting slowly until you figured you’d stalled long enough and sent your trembling gaze to the exit. Bucky let out a low chuckle and clasped his hand around your upper arm, launching you back onto your feet and twisting your body to face him.

   Oh, darling, German fluently escaped his tongue and you nearly rolled your eyes at the condescending tone settled in his words, You know better than that, don’t you?

   His hold tightened and you winced, holding back the whimper in your throat. If you saw any hint of a bruise forming on your arm, you would give him hell later . . . and possibly even if you didn’t.

   You bit your tongue and let him lead you towards a leather chair before he pulled you swiftly down onto his lap where his hand remained on your thigh, brushing the inside softly. Had you not been so annoyed, you’d have been humiliated at all the stares devouring the scene unfolding before them. 

   Good girl, he drawled and pressed your back flat up against his chest where he could put you on display.

   You knew you should’ve been annoyed, or at least settled so into your role as his temporary whore-for-sale that the sensation coming alive between your thighs shouldn’t have made an appearance. But sometimes, the way Bucky brought his voice down real low and cooed an insult or jest your way just had an affect that your body would not deny. It kept you awake a lot.

   Instead, you swallowed hard and let yourself be splayed against him. You ignored the scent of sandalwood in his cologne.

   Your body trembled from the cold breeze floating around in the room and you shifted in Bucky’s lap to block everyone’s sight from the way your chest reacted to the change in temperature.

   Don’t be shy, he murmured and removed your arms from your breasts, letting the thin, practically see-through fabric show you to the world.

   “Buc-” You started, your panic creeping through the cracks at the cheshire sneers sent your way, but at the first sign of your discomfort, he retracted his hands and twisted you around gently, throwing your legs over the side of the chair and spreading them but forcing your upper half to face him. Effectively, cutting your chest off from their line of sight.

   You trembled out a sigh and he grabbed your face tightly, drawing your eyes to his. He examined you, his hardened gaze shouting words he couldn’t currently say. But you understood. He could be a jerk, but he wasn’t a bad man.

   Your body instinctively leaned into him for warmth as another breeze engulfed you, resulting in a shiver that made its way up your spine. “Are they still looking?” you inquired and he gripped your neck with a ferocity that made you squirm in his lap. Fuck.

   He pulled your ear to his lips and licked the helix. You whimpered. “No,” he whispered, running his thumb along your jawline, “But if you don’t quit fucking squirming you’re gonna have a problem, Doll,”

   You opened your mouth in question when you felt a sudden twitch on your backside and you swallowed. Hard. He never broke eye contact with you, instead choosing to raise a brow in mocking. Your chest heaved up and down and how you could feel his breath grazing on your cheek almost had you rubbing your legs together for some form of desperate friction. No, you had to keep yourself composed, keep the act going. But he’d seen it. All of it.

   You nod your head and slowed your breathing down until he released his grip around your throat and turned his attention towards the dim stage. You leaned back into him and followed suit, making sure to keep your attention downcast and appear disheveled. 

   “There,” Bucky whispered after a few minutes and you lifted your head only to find the man you had come all this way for walking straight towards you.

   Like a moth to a flame.

   “How much?” The older man inquired, his grotesque gaze settled on your spread legs.

   Bucky looked up at the balding man as if this was the first time he’d noticed his presence, “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?” 

   The man lifted his brow, or what would’ve been, and smiled wickedly, “I’ll give you double your price if you give her to me now,” he offered, his eyes slithering up to the apex of your thighs and this time you didn’t have to fake the shiver running up your spine. 

   A small smirk formed on Bucky’s face and he waved his hand dismissively at him, “Get in line,”

   The old man sneered but Bucky was right, most everyone had their attention fixated on what was happening currently and it was apparent there was, indeed, a line. 

   Bucky rested his gloved hand on your upper thigh and gripped tight, whether to refrain from hitting the guy or just to touch you, he wasn’t sure but he couldn’t keep you away when the man said, “I’ll give you four times the asking price but I want her now,” 

   Bucky’s grip on your thigh tightened and you squeaked at the pain, jumping slightly in his lap. “How about I give her to you for free for ten minutes and you tell me if you can handle her,”

   You jerked your head towards Bucky and furrowed your brows. Free? Dick. You nearly scoffed.

   The man gripped onto your calf and you shifted to kick his hand away when Bucky’s own shot out and and ripped his off of you, “Don’t touch my stuff,” he spit and the man let out a yell but that only spurred Bucky on and he tightened his fist, “Until terms are agreed upon, she remains mine to do with as I please. Understood?”

   The man nodded hastily and Bucky threw you off his lap when he stood up. “Anyone else?” Bucky shouted to the room, daring others to test his limits when it came to you. After a few moments of silence Bucky scoffed, “I didn’t fucking think so,”

   Bucky’s grip on the man remained and he stared down at the hunched figure, “Now, you,” he addressed and the room remained silent. This was allowed here. 

   Normally, merchandise couldn’t be touched until it was purchased. No buying before the auction, no discussing what you’re offering, no negotiating but most importantly don’t try to steal from anyone. These are criminals and that being said, they handle things amongst themselves. They know the rules and the risks they take breaking them.

   So, when Bucky drags the poor bastard away, you follow right behind him. Not a protest to be heard. Bucky throws open the door we entered through and finds the nearest room before chucking the HYDRA agent inside and locking the door behind you. 

   The room was brightly lit, with all four walls a dull cream color and dark brown couches strewn casually about. There’s no real order to this place. All cement corners and LED bulbs. Pure business. 

   “Let ‘em know,” Bucky orders and you turn around to argue only to find the man pulling a gun out of his jacket pocket.

   You jerk suddenly and kick Bucky square in the stomach, launching him towards one of the couches just as a shot rings out. You blanch at the sound, the noise filling your head and drowning everything else out. You hear yelling but you can’t make out the words, only the panic intermingled within them. Your hand reaches out around you and you grip the small button lined into your thin clothing, pressing it four times how you’d been instructed.

   Everything moved slowly and people began filing into the room. How did they get here so fast? No. It wasn’t possible, they were a quarter mile down the road, there was no way they were your backup. 

   Hands began flying in the air and you were picked up and dropped multiple times, each time landing harder than the last. You tried to blink back the spinning but the blows landing on your face and torso made it all the worse. 

   Instinctively, you threw your hands up to protect your face and fought to find some footing to help. Bucky was good but he wasn’t a God, he would need help. When the first blow met your forearms you reached out to grasp the hand and used your other to drive your fist right into the person’s nose. The bone crunched under your blow.

   You took a hit, then another when you managed to analyze the enemy’s fight pattern and waited until he left himself open before driving your knee into his rib cage. He bent over in pain and you grabbed him by the hair, hearing another crack when you shoved your elbow upwards against his nose. 

   You heard a shout and whipped your head over to see Bucky on his back, a looming figure with a gun aimed straight towards him. You galvanized towards them and threw yourself in the air, using your weight to kick him off of Bucky when another shot rang out. 

   Bucky shot up and crushed the gun with his metal arm. You scoured the room for the familiar HYDRA agent but found him nowhere. You shot out of the room, knocking into an opposing wall as you turned the corner and ducked when the sound of a bullet whizzed past you. 

   This is not going good. You had lost your target and rummaged through room after room until you’d become lost. Fuck. Where the hell did he run off to? You winced after breaking out into a sprint but pressed on, not allowing yourself to slow down. There was no way you were going to fail this mission, especially after coming so close to success.

   Sweat trailed down your face and your muscles screamed at you to halt, their exhaustion beginning to wear you down. Your breathing grew rapid and your vision blurred and just as you went to lean on a wall to rest, your shoulder exploded out in pain and you collapsed with a cry.

   “Dirty whore,” the HYDRA man seethed, a cane raised over his head. He brought it down and you spun to the side, feeling the air breeze past your ear.

   Your hand latched onto the cane and you shoved it into his gut, pushing him away. SHIELD wanted this guy alive, so alive they would receive him. That didn’t mean he had to come in one piece though. 

   You tore the walker out of his hand just as he tumbled onto his ass. You stood up, grunting along the way and hovered over his body, fear sprawled along his features. 

   “You can either stay still or get beat with your own cane, it’s your choice,” you offered, aching to bring the walker down onto his face. “Please test me. Please.” You begged.

   His gaze shifted between you and the weapon and he brought his trembling hands up in defeat. He must’ve been an agent of some Intelligence branch because his fighting abilities were evidently subpar at best.

   You sighed, sad to see the opportunity go but brought the cane down none the less. “That’s unfortunate,”

   You turned your attention to the sound of running coming around the corner and moved to drag and hide your captive in a nearby closet only to roll your eyes when Bucky came ‘round. You tossed the cane back and forth between your hands and smiled proudly towards the agent on the floor.

   “Look who I caught,” you toyed and were met with a grunt.

   “Only because you let him get away,” he retorted, pulling the balding man up to his feet.

   Everything began to slow and the hellfire you’d kept under mounds of ice had finally melted through its freezing cage. “What?”

   He turned his back towards you and trudged the hesitant man behind him towards the exit.

   “I said,” you hollered, not caring how the halls carried your echo, “What?”

   “I heard what you said,” he called back to you, not bothering to turn around.

   And there you were left, frozen and dumbfounded for five solid minutes before you could pull yourself together enough to stomp your way back towards the rendezvous point. You remained hazy for the most part while debriefing. You tried to recount everything but the way your anger engulfed you in its flame obscured your memory so you kept it short. 

   It was quickly brought up that SHIELD captured more HYDRA agents than expected and were gonna be at max capacity so you and Bucky had to stay at a base a few miles down the road. You grumbled in compliance but Bucky didn’t respond, not even a godforsaken grunt.

   What SHIELD had failed to mention though, was that this bunker was clearly meant for one. It barely counted as a room. There was a small bathroom in the corner just big enough for a shower and toilet. No sink. And a small counter with just enough space for a stove, microwave and radio. If you were to lay down vertically or horizontally you’d nearly be touching wall each way. Not to mention the singular bed.

   And that’s how you got to where you were now. Miniscule room. Exhausted body. Drained mind. Patience long gone. 

   You huffed and dropped your bag in front of the entrance before walking to the bathroom and turning to slam the door closed. You turned the faucet on and ripped the wig off, discarding your clothes in a pile before stepping into the shower. The warm water was nice and welcoming but your body already felt aflame so you twisted the knob and held your breath when the cold stream trickled down your body. It was difficult to breathe at first, but your body soon adjusted to the temperature and you began wiping the muck off your skin with the bar of soap supplied. But that’s all the was supplied. Clearly, this place was meant to be a quick pit stop. 

   You sat on the hard floor as the water streamed onto your body. You could nearly fall asleep to its rhythm; It was only when your head hit the wall that you realized you were so you begrudgingly stood up and shut off the water. You grabbed the only towel in the bathroom and pat yourself dry, noticing just then that you left your clothes outside.

   You let out a long sigh and twisted open the doorknob to find Bucky toying with the radio on the counter; not even purposefully, just looking for something to do while he waited. 

   You opened your mouth to ask him to hand you your bag but after what he said to you earlier you’d sooner eat hot coals than ask him to do anything for you. You stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped neatly around your chest and you bent over to open your bag. The shuffling on the radio stopped. 

   “You could’ve at least left me some warm water,” he grumbled and you rolled your eyes.

   You searched in your bag for the fresh clothes residing there only to turn around when you found them and have the bathroom door shut in your face. 

   “Are you fucking kidding me?” You shouted, pounding your fist against the door.

   You could hear the water running and you groaned, pounding harder. The door opened for a split second and you were hit in the face with the clothes you’d left inside only for it to instantly be slammed shut again.

   You punched the door with all the frustration built up over the past few hours and felt the wood crack with your force. Why did this man have to be incredibly baffling? You were not nearly paid enough to deal with such an unbearable partner. He would have you bald from stress before you knew it. 

   You spent the next few minutes grumbling to yourself after you changed and scribbled your frustration onto a small notebook you took with you everywhere. It was only when you heard the water shut off did you remember something. You still had the only towel. A villainous smirk tugged at your lips and you placed the folded towel on the edge of the bed, away from the door.

   Then you heard the creak. “I will walk out naked if you don’t give me the towel,” Bucky threatened.

   You shrugged despite him not being able to see you from your position on the bed, “I’ll just laugh at your dick,” 

   “You weren’t laughing earlier,” he shot back.

   Oh. So he did remember. Good. You thought he’d gotten amnesia within the past few hours, maybe he was just too ashamed to mention it.

   “Too disgusted to insult. Plus, I was playing a character,”

   “Fine,” he responded and quickly came into view, haughtily sauntering over to your side and you shouted.

   “Dear God!” You held the towel up to block your sight of his barren body. It was disgusting. He was all wet, hair dripping onto his muscled torso, water gleaming off his taut skin, 5 o’clock shadow drenched and straight out of a wet dream. Jesus.

   “Prude,” he commented, snatching the towel from your grasp and wrapping it around himself. 

   “Respectable,” you corrected, crossing your arms and shoving him away. “You get the floor,”

   He lifted his duffle off the ground and rummaged through it. “Then I get the blanket,”

   “You get fuck all,” you stated, flipping off the lamp beside you and snuggling into the warm cot.

   When the shuffling stopped and the bathroom light was shut off, you shut your eyes and let the wear of the day grab at you, lulling you into the beginning of slumber. That is, until the blanket was hauled from around you, damn near throwing you onto the floor. You shouted out and caught yourself last minute. 

   “Barnes!” You yelled, steadying yourself and reaching over the edge to grab the blanket back. Your hand fisted at the faux fur and you pulled with all your might to no avail. 

   He swatted you away as though you were a pesky fly and reached over to turn the light of the lamp on. You glowered at him and stood, wrapping the blanket around your arm and pulling upwards. Your arm strained to its capacity but the man on the floor didn’t budge. Only turned his back to you and shut his eyes. You reached over yourself and flipped the switch of the lamp, once again immersing yourself in the comforting darkness. 

   Bucky stiffened and opened his eyes then turned and froze you in your spot with his stare. He reached around and lit the lamp, slowly retracting his arm and daring you to turn it off again. So you did.

   He yanked the blanket from your grasp and threw you back onto the bed, bringing light into the room. “Light stays on,” he growled.

   “No! You’ve had your goddamn way since you stepped foot into this room. Light goes off and I get the blanket!” You shouted, not concerned about anyone else hearing considering the room was soundproof.

   “No. You get the bed so I get the blanket. Tell me how that doesn’t make sense,” he countered.

   You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of admitting that it did, in fact, make sense. The floor here was wooden and clearly uncomfortable, plus he hadn’t even argued about the bed situation. 

   You retreated, “Fine, light still goes off,”

   “No,” 

   “Yes,” 

   Silence fell between the two of you but you weren’t budging. Barnes had faced plenty of monsters, he could handle the dark. 

   “I need the noise to fall asleep,” he admitted and it was then you could hear the slight hum the bulb emitted.

   You didn’t speak for a while but reared back and pulled out your phone, “What do you want to listen to?” You scrolled through a few sounds you had stored on your phone, “We’ve got: nature sounds, frequencies, guided meditations, etc. You name it, but I’m not sleeping with this forsaken light on,”

   Bucky studied you, his expression changing a mile a minute but the one of indifference conquered, “Rain,” 

   You nodded once and selected the audio, placing the phone face up on the nightstand and turning the light off for the last time. Hopefully. You hunkered down into the thin mattress and reached down, grasping at the thick blanket. When you pulled, there was some give. He’d let you get just enough needed to cover your body if you laid at the very edge and your hand hovered in the air when you laid your arm over the side.

   Minutes flew by with your eyes shut and the exhaustion slithered over your body but your mind ran wild with the events from earlier. You tried not to get angry or sad or . . . bothered. Your breathing deepened when you began to succumb to your body’s fatigue and you drifted inch by inch into the welcoming void lulling your name.

   You didn’t hear when he shifted, only managed to register the faint tracing of his fingertips on your hand before finally giving out.

   You weren’t sure what time it was when you opened your eyes for the first time that night. This regularly happened. You’d wake up multiple times during the night to shift positions or throw off the sheets, no matter how insignificant the desire, your body always found a way to wake you for it.

   You opened your eyes slowly to a hazy vision and blinked at the sitting figure on the floor, “Bucky?” You croaked, bringing a hand up to wipe at your face, “What time is it?”

   “It’s almost one, go back to sleep,”

   “What are you doing?” You persisted, ignoring his demand and sitting up slowly, “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

   “Couldn’t,” 

   A heartbeat. Then another. And another. He didn’t care to elaborate.

   “Do you want the bed?” You offered, stretching yourself out and already placing yourself down on the floor, “It’s too hot up there, anyway,”

   His attention turned to you for the first time but you’d already began closing your eyes, not really having the energy to argue with him. You could hear shuffling from his spot and the ground disappeared below you, strong hands grasping your body and lifting you up to place you gently back onto the cot.

   “I prefer the floor,” he insisted, wrapping the blanket around you, “Besides, you’re a horrendous liar,”

   You didn’t hold back the singular chuckle, your haze still enveloping you. “Then why aren’t you sleeping?”

   He sat at the foot of the bed, his hand hovering over your leg in hesitation, “It’s complicated.” He dropped his hand to his side.

   “Isn’t the rain helping?” you mumbled, your sight now adjusting to the dark.

   “Yes,”

   “Then what?” 

   “I just . . . don’t want to wake you,”

   “Well, I’m already awake if that makes you feel better,” you jeered, a small smile forming on your lips.

   “It doesn’t,”

   “Nothing does,” you retorted, the inevitable annoyance you always felt when conversing with him already made its way up into your tone.

   He scoffed and stood from the bed, placing himself in the same spot on the floor with his head leaned up against the wall and his arm resting on his perched knee. 

   “Oh, so now you can’t handle a little attitude,” your tone came out incredulous, “You didn’t have any issues earlier when you blamed me for that guy’s escape. Which, he didn’t even get to do, might I add,”

   “I was projecting,” he replied, gaze still focused on the door opposite to him.

   You blinked, “Are you so tired that you’re actually admitting to being a dick?”

   “I know I can be a dick, but you threw yourself straight into the line of fire twice today. So I don’t really give a shit if I was mean to you,”

   “I only did that because you almost got shot twice today. Don’t take your anger out on me for your incompetence. Just say ‘thank you’ and move on already,”

   “Incompetence?” His head jerked in your direction. “What was incompetent was that you couldn’t keep yourself composed,”

   You sat up. “What in the hell are you talking about? My behavior is what got our target to basically give himself up to us! It was me that trapped him, not you!” His composure tensed and you crossed your arms over your chest, “You’re just mad your dick got hard so if anything you’re the one who couldn’t keep their compos-” His hand was wrapped around your throat and you were pinned to the mattress before you could finish your sentence.

   “Shut the fuck up,” he hissed at you, his face mere inches from yours.

   “Why?” You spoke hoarsely around his tightening grip, “Does the Big Bad Wolf not like that he was turned on? Who’s the prude now?”

   “Turned on?” He spat, his free hand resting by your head to cage you in, “You think what you did earlier turned me on?”

   You grasped at the hand around your throat and pried slightly to speak, “Fight me or fuck me, Barnes. But stop lying to yourself, it’s getting old,”

   The room seemed to freeze over and Bucky paused. His hesitation was enough to elicit the fire from earlier and your legs squirmed a little underneath him. God, you hoped he chose the latter.

   Then his lips crashed against yours. 

   You squeaked at the sudden onslaught but threw your arms around his shoulders and pulled him in tighter against you. He dropped when you intertwined your legs, his full weight pressing against you deliciously. You ground up against him, your core aching from the previous hours and the small friction elicited a moan from the both of you. 

   “So impatient,” he scolded, bringing the hand from around your throat down to your hips and pressing you into the bed. “What a whore,”

   His breath danced along your cheek and you mewled at his words. Gods, he was going to be the death of you. Or the beginning. 

   You breathed in deeply, his sandalwood scent intoxicating you in a manner that alcohol never could. When you drank, you were just drunk. But when you took a sip from the tall glass that was Bucky, it brought you to life. Your body sang melodies wherever you were plastered against each other and your skin burned with need.

   Touch me, your body screamed, touch me.

   “Fuck off,” you groaned and Bucky jerked your head to the side, exposing your neck for him to scavenge.

   The goosebumps that danced across your skin when he ran his warm tongue up from the curve of your neck to the bottom of your ear brought an arrogant smirk onto Bucky’s face. You ran your fingers through his hair and tugged when he reached a particularly sensitive spot that had your legs shaking when he kissed it sloppily. 

   Your mouth hung open in silent pleasure and your breaths were short and rapid, your body betraying all forms of control you previously had over yourself. The hand that wasn’t residing in his hair trailed down his muscled arm and you gripped at the brawn this man possessed. His skin reminisced lightly of silk despite the rough texture of his hands. 

  The same hands that now made its way into your hair and tugged at the strands at the base of your neck, jolting your chin higher into the air. Your grip tightened around his biceps and the strength they emitted sent a pool rushing to your core. You continued hunting until you found the hem of his black, cotton shirt and you made your way up his taut abdomen. You let out a sigh and he jumped lightly at the sensation of your cool fingertips across his scorching skin. It was a nice contrast for him. 

   You gripped at the shirt and hastily ripped the cotton upward. Bucky broke away from his descent down to your chest to let you remove the fabric and you’d suddenly wished you’d turned the lights on first. He mimicked your action and tossed your shirt in a deserted corner of the room to potentially be abandoned. You gasped when the cold air of the room grazed upon the perked mounds of your breasts. 

   His lips returned to their spot on the dip of your neck and his tongue slithered down in between your breasts. Your breath hitched when his wet muscle made its way up to the apex of your chest. His right hand mirrored his tongue and swirled around your nipple, his teeth pulling eagerly every so often and you hissed at the delectable pain. Your eyes devoured the scene unfolding on your chest and you reached over to flick the light on, desperate for a clearer image.

   Bucky halted and his metal arm reached over to switch the light back off but you swatted his hand away and he backed up lightly, his irritation evident on his face.

   “I want to watch,” you grumbled and shifted up to bring your lips back up to his. He let you. He pushed back lightly with his own lips and leaned in sync with your movements. He parted his mouth slightly and you followed suit, letting him lead his way into yours with the same muscle he’d just had flicking across your breasts.

   The light went off.

   You pushed him away and shot towards the switch but metal met your wrist firmly enough to keep you in place. “Bucky.” You wrestled against his hold and turned your full attention back to the figure hovering above, “I want to see you,” 

   Despite the darkness, you noticed his mouth twitch but his grip on your wrist remained solid. You sprawled back onto the bed and wrapped your free hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down onto you, pressing his surprisingly soft lips onto yours. You broke apart, his lips a hair’s breadth away from your own. “I want to see you,” 

   He didn’t move, only scanned your face over a few times and you brought him back down into a kiss. This one wasn’t like before. This one was warm, soft, patient. A ballet compared to its previous mosh pit. He danced along with you, an admission hidden somewhere in his tenderness.

   You hadn’t realized you’d been freed of his hold until you were wrapping that arm over his shoulder and the sound of a light humming began.

   “Fucker,” you jeered and the previous gentleness dissipated.

   “Shut up,” he ordered, pinning you back onto the bed and resumed his ministration on your breasts.

   The moan slipped past your lips at the sight and your chest heaved upwards, desperate for more stimulation. You licked your lips at how his mouth encased your nipple, his tongue flicking against the perked skin and you dropped your head back, shutting your eyes. You centered all of your attention anywhere that his bare skin touched your body and rubbed your aching clit against his v-line. 

   Your chest was pressed against the mattress before you could register what happened and the hard smack that met your ass evoked a yelp. Bucky pressed fully against your backside and he ground his dick down into your ass. He groaned at the sensation and you raised your ass onto him. You yelped again when Bucky ripped your leggings down and smacked the exposed skin on your ass.

   “Try something like that again and I’ll gag you around my cock ‘til you’re crying,” he growled, “Understood?”

   You nodded, wide-eyed and a mewling mess from the threatening promise of this God. 

   “Good girl,” he cooed, rubbing at the raw skin. “Now stay still for Daddy,”

  Bucky’s hand lingered on your reddening ass and the mattress dipped when he shifted to your side. He traced gentle circles onto your backside and pressed his lips on your shoulder blade, the butterfly kisses making their way down towards your spine and then lower. Your breathing grew uneven from the sheer amount of restraint you displayed. Your grip on the edge of the bed tightened when his tongue dragged from the point where your thigh and ass met all the way up to the bottom of your spine.

   “Fuck,” You shuddered, white-knuckling the blanket beneath you.

   Your skin blazed when you were met with another harsh slap. You mewled at the sensation, loving the fire that spread across your flesh and relaxed when his metal hand cooled the area. 

   Then his teeth bit into the cooling flesh and you jerked away despite yourself. Bucky tsked lowly and you chuckled at the hint of fear sprouting in your chest; you did not want to see whatever sinister expression resided on his face. 

   A strong hand gripped the roots of your hair and hauled you up. You followed his direction and knelt onto the ground between Bucky’s sprawled out legs, settling in your new position.

   “Oh, Doll,” he chastised, “you were so close,”

   “That shouldn’t count,” you retorted while Bucky pulled the blanket off the bed and lifted you up with his metal arm, shoving the barrier between your knees and the hard ground.

   “But it does.” His hands dove into his underwear and sprung his cock out onto your lips. “Now get to work,”

   Your eyes widened at the sight before you and you had to physically hold back from gulping. You were ashamed to admit your mouth watered in anticipation. You lifted your hands from his sculpted thighs and wrapped them around his length, enveloping just the tip past your parted lips. Bucky sighed and twitched in your mouth.

   You welcomed him in fully, or as much as you could anyway, and got straight to work, not bothering to act abashed at your desire. Your tongue swirled around his tip and you leaned into him until he hit the back of your mouth but you continued on, gagging around him when he’d gotten inside your throat. Bucky groaned when your throat tightened around him and he threw his head back, using his flesh hand to guide you up and down his shaft, showing you what he liked and didn’t. 

   “Fuck, Doll,” he groaned, “Just how I imagined your mouth would feel,”

   You pulled off him to comment when he shoved you all the way down to the hilt and you threw your hands up onto his thighs to hold yourself back. He used his metal arm to hold himself up and thrusted up into your salivating mouth desperately. He continuously hit the back of your throat and thick saliva coated his cock. Just as he promised, tears prickled at the corners of your eyes and he didn’t stop until your cheeks were drenched in the liquid.

   You let your jaw hang open, your tongue no longer swiveling around meticulous spots that you knew would make his legs buckle. No, you let him have the reigns. Let him fuck your mouth ‘til your throat grew bruised and jaw ached with fatigue. You committed his cries of pleasure to memory, the sounds euphoric to your ears. 

   He lifted his head and stared down at you with half-closed eyes. He was in heaven and you knew it. He watched you, how the tears trailed down, how your hands gripped at his thighs, how you stuck out your tongue just as you’d made it to the base of his cock to lick his balls in the most intoxicating way. Fuck. You were the intoxicating one. You brought out this side of him. This carnal desire that became him until he’d had to step out of the room just to compose himself. And he didn’t like being out of control. That’s why he always kept you at an arm’s distance.

   But now, watching as you sat between him with your mouth agape like the good girl that you were for him, he knew he’d never deny himself this pleasure again. Especially since you were so fucking good at it.

   He groaned, pulling you off his cock and grabbed tightly at your cheeks, nearly pinching your mouth together. “Tongue out.” He growled, waiting for your compliance.

   Your jaw ached with exhaustion but you managed to stick out the wet muscle as he pulled you closer into him and watched when he parted his lips above you, letting the saliva trail down from his mouth into yours. 

   “Swallow,” he ordered.

   But it was already done, and you left your mouth hanging open for more.

   “Jesus fucking Christ,” Bucky grumbled, putting his face right up against yours and feeding you once again; this time with a sloppy kiss that coated both your mouths in saliva.

   He brought you up from the floor and tossed you onto the bed before settling between your legs. The excitement in your eyes grew and he indulged in every minute of it. Bucky’s hand trailed down from your lower abdomen right above your pubic bone and pressed his palm into your neglected clit. The cry you let out was the unholiest thing he’d ever heard. 

   He slid his finger under the waistband of your underwear and flitted his gaze back up to your eyes, “Can I?”

   You nodded eagerly, dumbfounded that he would even ask and fought the temptation to grab your phone from the nightstand and record everything that was about to unfold. 

   At the first nod, Bucky slid your underwear down your legs and made a show of bringing the material up to his face. Your own went red hot and you hid behind your hands, poking through every millisecond to shamefully watch. He threw the panties into his open duffel and you squirmed in anticipation.

   “Remember the rules?” Bucky asked, brow lifted and already descending to your inner thigh.

   You nodded again.

   “I need to hear it, Doll,” he mumbled, kissing the inner part of your thigh, each placement closer and closer to where you needed him most.

   “Yes,” you whimpered out, “I remember the rules,”

   Bucky wanted to dive right in, he really did, but the way you sprawled yourself out so vulnerable for him, it incited a new pace that he wanted to follow. So, he did. He looked at you for a few moments, watched how the anticipation danced in your eyes, how your legs shook in wait and how you were already so goddamn wet for him.

   “This all for me?” he teased, mesmerized at your desire for him.

   You dropped a hand down to your side, near where his hands were wrapped around your thighs to keep you in place - and against his face. He cocked his head to the side, waiting for your answer.

   You nodded sheepishly and when he lifted an eyebrow in mock confusion you said, “You. Just you,”

   Like music to his ears. Just him. You weren’t for anyone else. He thought he felt his heart palpitate.

   He lowered himself down to your core and kissed your lip, drawing a desperate plea from you. You couldn’t wait anymore, couldn’t deal with the teasing. You were wet enough, needy enough, ready enough to take him, all of him. You’d been ready damn near the moment you first laid eyes on his arrogant smirk.

   “Buck - please,” you cried, drawling out the final word.

   The first kiss placed upon your soaked cunt erupted a sigh of relief and you laid back on the pillow, your eyes closed and mind gone with the sensation of those sloppy kisses blessing your needs. He flattened his tongue on your lips and licked upwards, stopping when your hips twitched into his mouth.

   “Sorry!” You apologized, fighting the desire to grind into his wet muscle. He’d just gotten started and you certainly didn’t want it to end so soon.

   He lifted his gaze up to you and you bit into your fist at the view, using the extremity to hold back your moans. He flicked his attention down again and repeated his motion, lapping at your fluids ‘til his beard was soaked in it. He shook his head into your cunt and his nose rubbed along your clit. The mewling that left your mouth urged him on and when you felt his muscle prodding at your entrance you threw your head back.

   “Please, Bucky.” You begged, bringing a hand up to tease your nipple.

   He prodded some more, his tongue gliding up from your clit and back down to your entrance, poking through enough to frustrate you. He wanted you to break for him. To lose all composure and control and just let him. He wanted you to submit to him but it wasn’t just that, it was more that he wanted to destroy you for any future experience you may have without him. He wanted you to come back to him, to need him, to beg for him and leave you with the understanding that nothing - no one - could compare to him. He wanted you. To himself. 

   So, when he could no longer refrain and had to use his metal arm to hold your hips down from squirming beneath him, he slipped two thick, rough fingers into your begging cunt. And the sound you emitted caused that carnal instinct to claw at the barriers caging it in.

   Your hand shot down, tangling itself into his hair and pushing him harder against you. He allowed it. Your thighs held him in place, crushing him with your soft skin and he groaned at the warmth you gave off. You pulled your hand away from your mouth and grabbed at his metal one resting on your pubic bone, pulling it up to your chest and wrapping his fingers on the sensitive bud for him to tease. He slowly retracted from your chest and brought it back down onto your hips and you huffed in annoyance. You looked down at Bucky but his eyes were shut, completely engrossed in the feast before him. You bucked when his fingers glazed across that sensitive spot inside your velvety walls.

   “There!” You cried, your fist tightening in his hair when the all-too-familiar wave of ecstasy began to pool together, waiting for its release.

   Bucky complied, dragging the pads of his fingers up against that spot over and over again. Your legs caged him in tighter as his tongue swirled over the hyper-sensitive bundle of nerves and you cried out at the way your body tensed.

   “Fuck,” you cried, your hands desperately grasping onto Bucky’s metal wrist and tugging at the roots of his hair. Bucky’s groan of pleasure was what tipped you over the edge.

   You gasped when the pool building released, your body shaking with euphoria and the flood crashed down onto you. And apparently, onto Bucky as well. He pulled his mouth away but continued rubbing at your clit when warm liquid squirted onto his face and his expression of surprise mirrored your own.

   When Bucky looked up at you, your face burned with embarrassment and you threw your head back, using your hand to cover your countenance. Not to mention the sight of him with your juices all over his mouth was one of the hottest things you’d ever witnessed.

   Bucky chuckled at your sheepish apology and removed your hand from your face, bringing his soaked mouth up to yours and having you taste yourself. You devoured each other, your arms wrapped tightly around the other, pulling so fiercely at the innate desire to become one in shared pleasure. He could feel his pride swell at your hidden confession. You’d never squirted before and he was lucky enough to be the one to give you that experience for the first time. 

   You clawed at him, divulging in the warmth his body radiated and intoxicating yourself in everything that was Bucky. You couldn’t get enough of it, of him. It was nearly too much.

   His hand trailed up to your gaping mouth and he inserted his fingers, “Clean them,” he ordered.

   Your hand gripped his wrist and pulled his fingers deeper into your mouth, never breaking eye contact with him, loving the way he ate up everything he was seeing. You noticed the way he swallowed.

   He retracted his hand and wrapped it gently behind your head so you were resting on him. He brought his full weight down onto your body and a warmth emanated in your chest when he brought his lips up against your forehead, each kiss closer and closer to your lips until they met their destination. When you parted your mouth against his, it wasn’t merely an action of carnal desire, it was like you were exchanging life forces. Merging and meeting in a manner that had your body exploding and crying out for more of the faint familiarity. Like seeing an old friend for the first time in years.

   Bucky looked down between your bodies at where you were about to connect before staring back up at you, taking you in as if he would never have this opportunity again. His thumb brushed your cheek and came to a rest on your bottom lip. “Ready?”

   You chuckled, “Fuck me,”

   He shoved inside in one clean motion and a breath of pleasure slid past both of your lips.

   “Fuck,” he groaned, his hand tightening slightly around your neck and he pulled out slowly then shot back inside and you moaned.

   You were still so sensitive from your previous climax that every brush against your clit sent you into a whirlwind of pleasure, the sensations shooting through every nerve in your body. 

   “Bucky,” you whined when his pace quickened and the sheer force of his thrusts drove you deeper into euphoria.

   He filled you just right, his girth and length impressive and you wondered why you hadn’t tried to screw him earlier. He slid past your tight walls, each thrust causing the room to echo with the sounds of skin slapping and moans of ecstasy. 

   He kept his actions controlled, not wanting to build up to something so intense just for it to fall short and end fast. No. Despite how good you felt wrapped around his aching and swollen cock, despite how warm and welcoming you were, how you spread yourself out for him to consume, he had to leash himself. This was going to be just as good for you as it was for him. 

   He kissed you one last time before gripping the back of your knees and bringing your thighs up to your chest, a shout of praise falling off your lips. He was drunk on the sight of his cock going in and out of your cunt and he threw his head back with a groan.

   “What a fucking pretty pussy,” he breathed out and you whimpered, biting your lip at the welcome profanities.

   At this angle, he was fucking against your g-spot and using his pubic bone to rub against your clit and watching the thin layer of sweat sheen off his skin was all too much to keep yourself put together. His eyebrows scrunched together and you caught him taking in your form, watching how your pleasure displayed itself on your face for him to bear witness to. Only him.

   He growled at the intrusion of thoughts that came to him. He pictured someone else in his position, someone else witnessing you so vulnerable and open to them, someone else fucking you and making you beg for them. It disgusted him. He brought his torso down and latched his teeth to your neck, biting down hard enough to have you tearing up.

   “Mine,” he growled into your ear and lulled his head forward when you tightened around him.

   A sinister smirk came to his face and he licked the shell of your ear, your breathy moans feeding him, “You like that?” He asked, pistoling further into your cunt and you shouted at the increase of pace, “You like when I tell you who you belong to?”

   Your mouth hung agape and the one arm wrapped around his shoulder pulled him closer to you, your desperation for his warmth taking control. “Fuck . . . off,” you hissed between breaths.

   He pulled out and yanked you up by your hair, twisting you around and pressing your torso into the wall but keeping your ass propped up for him to admire. You hissed at the pain when a sharp smack met your ass and your hands gripped at the wall for any way to ground yourself and prevent from becoming putty in his hands.

   Another hard smack met your ass and you lurched forward to get away from the sting. Bucky kept your head pinned to the cement, his hand holding your cheek from scraping the wall but applying a pressure that had your tongue lolling out of your mouth. 

   You moaned at the intrusion in your pussy and he plummeted in and out, a mix of your grunts and groans bouncing around the room. His pace constantly changed. One second it was fast, the next it was slow but filling, going so far as to hit your cervix a few times and leave you a crying mess under his hold. Your shoulder scraped along the wall and you fought to push away only to have your chest slammed harder against the cement.

   You brought a hand out, reaching behind yourself and grasping for Bucky’s hip, pushing him deeper into you when he slowed. Your nails dug into his flesh and the sound of his hiss shot straight to your core. 

   “What a goddamn whore,” he spat, bringing his teeth down onto your neck and you gripped at his hair.

   You laughed at his statement, “You’re the one that can’t get enough of this pussy. Why so desperate to claim it? Afraid I'll fuck someone else?” Bucky pulled you back and slammed you against the wall with vigor, causing you to flinch

   He stopped his thrusts altogether, “My patience only goes so far, Doll,” he threatened, tugging at your hair and you bit back a cry, “Choose your words wisely,”

   You nodded hastily, the rough texture of the wall digging into your cheek and splitting skin. You wriggled up against him to continue moving but he retracted completely and flipped you over so he was laying on the bed and you were straddling him.

   “Move,” he ordered, his hands digging bruises into your waist.

   You leaned over, pressing your chest against his to lift your hips up and down on him but he pushed you back up and held your arms behind your back to keep you in place. You whimpered but the cry quieted when you rubbed your clit against him and your pussy clenched at the friction. You moaned out a breathy fuck and swiveled your hips around his, noting how much deeper he filled you in this position.

   “Buck-” you huffed, eyes glued to the glistening abs beneath you. “I’m gonna cum,”

   “Already?” He jeered, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

   You’d lost all energy to sneer at him, your focus solely on how the sensation grew and began pooling in your cunt. “Cock . . . so good,” you breathed out, barely able to keep yourself from melting into him.

   “What was that, Doll?” He stilled your movements and you groaned in annoyance.

   You wriggled in his hold and you could tell by the furrow of his brow that he was fighting to keep control as well. You leaned over him, your lips hovering over his, “Mine,”

   His grip flew to the back of your neck and he crashed your lips onto his, giving you full reign again. You bounced your hips on his dick, slamming down vigorously and rubbing your clit in effect. It didn’t take long for your climax to build again.

   “’M gonna . . .” you whispered and Bucky placed you back up, gripping your hips and swiveling you around how you were earlier.

   “Cum, Doll,” he allowed, “Cum all over this cock,”

   You cried out, your toes curling as the dam in your core snapped and your climax washed over you. You hadn’t realized your fingers were intertwined with Bucky's until you came back down from your high, your chest heaving for breath.

   He sat up slowly and pressed his lips against your neck. “You’re beautiful,”

   Your body tensed at his words and you pulled away to give him a look of confusion. But he didn’t take his statement back, only slipped his hands around your back and gently placed you onto the bed, hovering over you.

   He moved with caution, like his gentleness might scare you off if he touched you too tenderly or stared too long in admiration. But he couldn’t help it, he did admire you.

   He spread your legs open and nestled between them, pushing into you slowly until your hips met and you both breathed out. His movements weren’t nearly as brutal as they were earlier, these thrusts were slow and deep and full of intention. He brought his torso down onto yours and you wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him closer to you.

   He ran his hand, the only one he allowed himself to touch you affectionately with, through your hair and stared down at you, waiting. His gaze shifted between your lips to your eyes and he ran his thumb delicately along your mouth.

   You looked at him then, really looked at him with fresh eyes and your heart leapt into your throat at the realization. “Kiss me,” you whispered and he lowered himself onto your lips, setting off an explosion in your chest.

   “I’m yours,” he whispered, not able to bring himself to look at you, “I’ve been yours,”

   You opened your mouth to respond but he silenced you with a deep thrust and a moan erupted instead. He quickened his pace, watching where you connected and pushed deeper and harder, your cries of pleasure driving him. He had to fuck you, he couldn’t love you, he couldn’t make love to you, just fuck. That’s it. He couldn’t allow himself to replay your look of shock at his confession, though the scene would surely be on loop for the next few days until he could get over it. Just fuck. Nothing more. Not with that look of disbelief on your face.

   He held himself up with his forearms but you pressed him against you and wrapped your legs tighter around him. “Harder,” you whispered and he complied.

   He groaned when your tits bounced and brought his mouth to a nipple, the faint taste of sweat lingering on your skin. You brought his metal hand up to your chest and made him grip the flesh there but he pulled it back and placed it beside your head instead.

   “Bucky,” you whimpered and grabbed his hand again, bringing his open palm up to your lips and placing delicate kisses on the metal. “You can feel with it, right?”

   He nodded, hesitance sprawled on his face.

   “Then touch me,” you urged, bringing the hand down between your bodies and pressing the cold metal against your clit, “Feel me,”

   His brows furrowed slightly but the look of your certainty forced him to dismiss his own perceptions of his body; or rather, that arm. And when he began rubbing circles into your bundle of nerves the expression on your face made him hate it a little less. Only a little.

   You stared up at him, his pace growing erratic and sloppy and you knew he was close. “You wanna cum?” 

   He nodded, his hot breath coming out haggard and strained. You placed your hand on his cheek and brought him up to your kiss.

   “Then cum,” 

   He shook his head, “You first,” he swirled his finger around your swollen clit and you gasped at the force of his thrust.

   Your body tensed and you centered all your focus on his ministrations, “A little more pressure,” you directed and he quickly found a pressure that had you wobbling in the knees. “Close,” you murmured, gripping Bucky’s side and bringing your lips up to his neck to pepper the skin there.

   He groaned and judging by the way his dick twitched inside you, you knew he wasn’t far behind. 

   “Bucky,” you whispered, pulling his attention towards you and his gaze brought you closer to the edge, “I’m yours,”

   He blinked and his pace faltered for half a beat. He examined your facial expression, like he didn’t believe the words you’d spoken. Not like he couldn’t believe them, but like you’d said them just to appease him. 

   You placed your forehead against his, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath to center yourself in the haze of this fucking. “Yours,” you repeated, all the emotion residing in your chest poured into the singular word. 

   And then he was back to drilling you into the mattress, a new vigor fueling his thrusts. You cried out and Bucky pressed his sweaty torso flat against your own and it felt like the essence, the being, in your chest intermingled with his own and all the climaxes you’d previously experienced couldn’t hold a match to the flame, the intensity, the rawness of the one that washed over the both of you in that moment.

   Bucky moaned out, his hips bucking into yours and you rode out both of your highs. The sensation consuming and overwhelming and welcome on both ends as it flooded through your bodies, meeting at your point of contact.

   His arms flexed above you with the ferocity of his climax and the display had you writhing beneath him, already desperate for more.

   “Buck,” you whispered when his breathing evened out after he collapsed onto you.

   He didn’t respond, afraid it had all been a dream, a trick, despite still being inside you. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to shatter the perfection of this moment. What if you’d only said that to get him to finish faster? What if you’d only fed him what he wanted to hear? What if-

   “Buck,” you repeated, pulling him from his daze and he lifted his head only slightly. You gripped his chin lightly and forced him to look you in the eye. “You’re . . . mine?”

   He wanted to shake his head, to tell you that he got caught up in the moment but instead he said, “Yours,” because he knew anything else would be a lie and he was tired of lying.

   You studied him and nodded, “Yours,” you stated, already rolling your eyes from the smirk forming on his face, “Unfortunately,”

   He brought your face to his and planted a tender kiss on your lips. He started shifting his position and grabbed the underwear he’d been wearing earlier before pulling out and using the cloth to clean the mess pooling out of you. But not before taking a mental picture, of course. 

   After a few minutes of laying together, his hand playing with a few strands of hair, you felt the warm welcome of sleep beginning to drag you into its embrace. You opened your eyes groggily and looked up at Bucky who was already looking down at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

   “I know about your night terrors,” you whispered and his actions halted momentarily before returning to brush through your hair, “I hear you sometimes. And I understand why you don’t want to go to sleep but,” you sat up slowly and placed the thick blanket down on the floor, dragging the pillow down with you and patting the open space beside you, “you should rest. I’ll be here to calm you or stay up with you. Whichever one you need,”

   He didn’t move at first, his ears drowning out any thought he could have while processing what you’d said. He’d stayed silent so long you’d thought you’d crossed a line.

   “I can always sleep on the bed if you’d prefer, though,”

   Bucky shook himself from his thoughts and edged closer to the floor, slowly descending into the available space and wrapping the blanket around the both of you as much as he could. “No,” he said, “I want you here,”

   You hummed in response and snuggled into his waiting arms, lightly wrapping your own around him, making sure to kiss the part of himself he hated the most before fatigue swept you up into its clutches. Bucky followed soon after. 

[crash-cinematic-universe]

beautiful

pairing: adrian chase/reader

summary: adrian chase is too good for this world, and you intend to let him know it

tags/warnings: hurt/comfort

notes: yes, lords and ladies, I finally finished writing an actual fic after a 3 million year long, writer’s-block inspired hiatus. i hope you enjoy it. and I hope that i can continue to do more in the future. I appreciate those of you who stuck around even though I was making 0 content 100% of the time. i love you all dearly and i pray that this writer’s block stays away. i might be a little rusty but once i get back into my groove the quality will improve probably

For most of your life, you were never considered particularly desirable. There aren’t a lot of lovable traits about a murderous anti-hero that spends their nights perched on street corners waiting for any signs of conflict. You were almost always injured, constantly littered with open wounds and deep purple bruises. Very few people find being constantly caked in blood and dirt an attractive trait, and when coupled with your aversion to empathy, it became clear that you weren’t exactly a catch. You didn’t care; you had bigger fish to fry. You’d much rather be turning criminals inside out than be stuck in a relationship, platonic or otherwise. 

Then, after a twisted chain of events, you found yourself here, in the middle of a black ops team with a bunch of strangers that irritated you endlessly. Harcourt and Murn are so emotionally stunted any attempt at socializing with them would probably yield worse results than trying to make out with a brick wall. Chris and Economos always manage to be on the opposite sides of a very, very annoying spectrum. Adebayo is… pretty cool, actually. She’s always nice to you, even when you’re not very nice back. However, none of them hold a candle to the Vigilante himself, Adrian Chase. 

Adrian is beautiful. Like a whirlwind of endearing violence and shitty puns, you found yourself being tangled in his life. He’s hyperactive and talkative— every time he starts one of his long-winded tangents, you worry he’ll die of suffocation. The entire team finds him near insufferable, and they make it painfully obvious that they dislike him. He tries his best to hide it, but you know it hurts his feelings. Maybe that’s why you’re so drawn to him, the unfamiliar sense of empathy (or is it pity?) luring you in like a gnat to a lantern. Instead of a fatal shock, you’re met with a paralyzing warmth (though, it could be argued that there is warmth to be found in lethal electricity).

As wonderfully kind, passionate, and caring Adrian is, there’s also something so profoundly sad about him. A grand sense of hurt lies within those glittering puppy-dog eyes, and it kills you to see it grow as the days go by. While he may deny that he has “regular people feelings” the excuse falls flat every time you catch his gaze during a team meeting. Still, he usually kept his composure and somehow managed to shake it off by the end of the day.

So, when you hear muffled crying coming from the back of the van, you’re inclined to investigate. Your movements are careful and calculated as you approach the van as quietly as possible. A part of you knows who’s inside, and you’d hate to humiliate him further by attracting attention from the rest of the team. Softly, you knock on the metal door.

The sound of hasty shuffling and quiet ‘fuck!’ comes through the barrier as the van door swings open. You’re unsurprised to see Adrian standing above you, face flushed and eyes red. An obviously forced smile is plastered on his face as he greets you.

“Oh, hey!” 

“Hey…” you trail off, unsure on how to approach the situation. “Whatcha doin’ back there?”

“Oh, I was just…” Adrian stands there, eyes frantic as he attempts to come up with an excuse. “...smoking weed,”

“What? Adrian, you hate weed. You threatened to shoot multiple people for possession alone,”

“I had a change of heart,” he defended. “Now my favorite hobby is blazing it. I love sitting in the back of our van and chasing the dragon,” his words come out awkward and unsteady.

“You do realize that the phrase ‘chasing the dragon’ refers to heroin, right?” Adrian’s eyes widen. Heroin is much more illegal than weed. Before he had a chance to deepen the hole he dug himself into any further, you cut in.

“Adrian, are you doing okay?” He froze. The faux-grin on his face faltered, and his body tensed. A small twang shot through your heart as you realized he was struggling to maintain his composure. He doesn’t look you in the eyes. He can’t, because he knows if he does, you’re going to see right through him. Somehow, you always seemed to cut through his façade with a single glance. 

“For sure! I’m doing totally awesome. I’m 100% fine,” His voice trembled. You didn’t buy it. He didn’t buy it either. Adrian’s hands were balled up into tight fists, his fingernails leaving crescent-shaped indentations on the meaty part of his palms. 

You step forward, gently guiding Adrian further back into the van before shutting the door. The isolation seemed to sooth his nerves a bit, but he was still clinging to his happy façade. The two of you sat there in silence for a minute, and you spent the seconds studying his face. He’s written with anguish and hurt, and the fact that he’s trying so hard to hide it feels like a punch to the gut. 

“Adrian,” You had to choose your words carefully. Adrian didn’t experience emotions in the same way that most people do, so you had to ensure you wouldn’t scare him off or upset him further. Instead of facing the problem head-on, you decided to let him come to you.

Nonchalantly, you leaned back against the van wall, letting your shoulder brush against his. “How was your day?”

Adrian seemed surprised by the question, but he answered it nonetheless. “It was okay. I’m still sore from getting tossed around like a ragdoll by that gorilla,”

“God, that sucked,” You chuckled. “I always liked Charlie as a kid. I never thought he would betray me like this,”

Adrian paused, his eyes flitting from your face to the floor. “Pretty cool to see Economos with the chainsaw, wasn’t it?” 

“Eh,” you shrugged. “It was okay, I guess. It was kind of overkill— and you totally called the whole ‘chainsaw kill’ thing.” Adrian seemed shocked to hear your answer, but judging by the pleased look that flashes across his face, he isn’t upset. 

“Peacemaker didn’t think so,” He sighed, and that sullen look returned. “I think he finds me annoying. Harcourt, too. Oh, and definitely Murn and John. Adebayo, maybe…” With a sharp inhale, he holds his breath for a moment. You struggle to meet his gaze as he turns away from you, letting his shoulders slump and his head hang. “The whole team hates me, I think,” Adrian’s voice was thick with tears. 

“Adrian, they don’t hate you,” You cooed, gently running your fingers up and down his spine. “They’re all just… emotionally stunted and really mean,”

“I don’t know what I did wrong,” he sobbed openly, hastily moving to bury his face in your shoulder. The sudden burst takes you by surprise, but still, you pulled him close and carded your fingers through his hair in an attempt to give him any and all comfort possible. “I tried so hard to make friends. I tried so hard to—to make myself more… appealing. For my entire life, I always existed as some awkward, scrawny nerd that embarrassed his older brother. I just wanted to have a real group of friends for once,”

“I can see everything they do, y’know. Sometimes it’s easier to play dumb and pretend like I don’t notice that they think it’s a burden to be paired with me on stakeouts. The rock-paper-scissors games, the coin tosses, the drawn straws; they’re all competing and being near me is the punishment. I know they think I’m crazy—that I’m some fucking freak that spends his time following Peacemaker around like a lost puppy. I guess they’re right, though. Gut always told me that I was like a parasite he couldn’t ever manage to shake off,” He cut himself off with a humorless laugh.

“No, no, Adrian, please don’t say that. You’re not a parasite. You’re a great teammate and a better friend,” Adrian was growing more and more overwhelmed by the minute, and you had no idea how to help him. “We don’t deserve you,” 

Adrian was trembling violently, his body wracked with sobs. He’d been holding everything in for an incredibly long time, and now it came rushing out all at once. You can tell this is probably the most kindness he’s received in a while.  You silently removed his glasses and took his face in your hands, swiping your thumbs under his eyes and wiping away the tear tracks staining his face. His alabaster skin was flushed a soft red and his eyelashes were shimmering with tears. He was beautiful. For some reason, you didn’t realize it until this moment, but regardless, it’s true. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Adrian. Everyone else is just fucking mean,” You brushed his hair out of his face. “You deserve better friends than them. You deserve to surround yourself with people who make you feel loved and accepted as you are, not a group of near-strangers who make you try to force yourself into a box that’s palatable for them,”

“Who do I have if I don’t have them?” He looks up at you expectantly, desperately, and you respond without really thinking.

“You have me,” 

“I do?” Adrian gazes into your eyes in astonishment. 

“Always,” A small smile plays on his lips, a sharp contrast from the fake one that had donned his perfect face twenty minutes prior. Quickly, you place his glasses back on his face and allow him to curl around your abdomen comfortably. “I’m always here for you, Adrian. Rain or shine, always feel free to hunt me down if you need me. It’s not healthy to keep all of your emotions bottled up,”

“Why?” His question stunned you. A thick silence hung over you as you pondered your response.

“Because… you’re one of the only people in the world that can make life bearable. At least, to me. And I would hate for someone so wonderful to have to live with the shit you have to,” A shiver runs down Adrian’s spine. “You’re passionate and dedicated, you’re good at your job, you somehow always manage to make me laugh—it’s almost scary how good of a friend you are. Everything you do is done with good intentions, and you’ve got a good heart. You deserve the world, Adrian, and I’m willing to give it to you,”

Adrian is silent. He’s looking at you inquisitively, as if he’s trying to solve a math problem in his head. With his dark eyebrows furrowed, he stares. Finally, after a solid two minutes had passed in dead silence, Adrian’s eyes widen and his mouth falls slightly agape, as if he’d come to some grand realization—

“I’m in love with you,”

Oh. 

Oh.

“What?” 

“I’m in love with you,” Adrian repeats. “I have been for a while, I think. It just took me a long time to realize. Originally, I just thought you were a really, really good friend, but now I realize that most people don’t feel this way about their friends,”

“Adrian…” 

“I don’t want the world,” he cut in, echoing your words from before. “I only want you, if you’ll have me, of course,”

A smirk plays on your lips as your brain begins to catch up with the rest of your body. “Why?”

Adrian shifts closer to you, his once tear-filled eyes now wide with adoration and admiration. “Because you’re the only person in the world who makes my life worth living,” With that, you take his face in your hands once again. Softly, you press a quick, chaste kiss to his lips. When you pull away, you study his face once again, and only one word comes to mind: beautiful.