#then he left. came back. snuck up behind me while I was stocking and put his hands on my waist so. That was fun.

[imnotoverlyobsessive]

Number Nine

Chapter Four: If There’s Danger in Confession

AO3 author’s note/info one two three four five six seven eight epilogue extra

Said I’m fine, but it wasn’t true. I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you. And I snuck in through the garden gate every night that summer just to seal my fate; and I screamed, for whatever it’s worth, “I love you, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?” He looks up, grinning like a devil.- Taylor Swift, Cruel Summer

Tim didn’t usually have a reason for why he got her things.

“I just like to get you things,” he’d told her once, staring up at her from where his head lay in her lap. “I want to see you in things as beautiful as you are.”

She had giggled and kissed him, still smiling.

So when he’d told her he was getting her an outfit for the sole purpose of being able to take it off her, she was not remotely surprised.

The boxes came over the course of several weeks. White Honey Birdette lingerie covered in lace and silver Jimmy Choo heels that sparkled as she walked. He’d given her the Colette jewelry in person—pearl and diamond dangly earrings along with a matching ring and bracelet—although he’d had to pick up the necklace himself. 

The Paolo Sebastian dress took the longest. It was made of ankle-length pale blue tulle with white embroidery that looked like a carousel.

When she stepped stepped through the elevator door into his penthouse, she felt like a princess.

Until she heard the moaning of several women along with what sounded suspiciously like her boyfriend. 

“Harder, Timothée,” came a female voice.

“Keep eating her pussy,” he responded lowly.

There were smacking sounds coming from the upstairs living room to her left, and when she turned her head with wide, horrified eyes, she saw it. 

Tim on the couch, taking a gorgeous blonde from behind while the woman went down on a second equally gorgeous blonde and a third looked on, touching herself as she kissed him.

Lea had known he did this sort of thing, of course, he’d mentioned it in passing and never hidden it from her, but she never thought she’d actually see it.

Near tears, she turned around again to get right back in the elevator and leave and possibly ghost him. Unfortunately for her, however, Tim must’ve heard the click-clack of her shoes on his hardwood floor, because his head snapped up and he exclaimed a very excited-sounding, “Lea!”

The girl in question winced, really just wanting to go home and have a nice long cry in the bath, but he’d seen her, and she couldn’t very well escape him now.

“I’m so sorry, girls,” Tim was saying to the group of women he’d been fucking. “My girlfriend’s here, would you mind…?”

There were three murmurs of agreement and then the sounds of clothes being put on. 

She was so shocked by all this that by the time the women filed past her into the elevator, the tears were gone from her eyes.

Lea stood there, stock-still, as Tim came bounding over, the sound of his bare feet on the floor getting closer to her. “Hey, baby,” he said happily, grabbing her hand and spinning her around to face him. “You look gorgeous. Even better than I pictured.” He paused. “An angel come to earth. Makes me wanna corrupt you.”

She glanced downwards.

His dick was still hard. And wet.

Tim noticed her looking and grinned. “Aww, you want me, too, huh? Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll always take care of you.”

She stayed in front of the elevator, staring at him in silence. 

He pouted, holding out his arms to her. “What’re you doing just standing there? C’mere.”

Lea hesitantly took a step forward, and as soon as she was within reach, he grabbed her by the waist and yanked her against him. 

“There,” he said happily. “Isn’t that better?”

She put her hands on his chest and looked up at him with wide eyes. Then, he put his hand on her cheek and leaned down to kiss her. As soon as his lips touched hers, everything else fell away. It didn’t matter that he’d just been kissing one woman while fucking another. All that mattered was that his chest was pressed against hers and his hands were in her hair and his tongue was in her mouth.

“C’mon,” he breathed against her lips, taking her hand and leading her into his bedroom.

“Do you bring the others in here?” she asked nervously, unsure of whether or not she wanted to know the answer.

Tim pressed her against the wall of windows, the skirt of her dress fanning out around her. “No,” he told her. “You’re the only one who gets to see my room, sleep in my bed.”

Lea smiled up at him, her heart fluttering at the notion of being unique to him in some way.

“Now then,” he began, strolling over to one of his bedside tables to grab small box labeled BULGARI from the drawer as well as his phone and cigarette and lighter before moving to sit on the divan at the foot of his bed. He beckoned her closer before lighting the cigarette and taking a drag. “C’mere, baby.”

Lea obeyed, shifting from foot to foot awkwardly in her sparkly Jimmy Choos.

He looked up at her, examining her form, taking another drag from his cigarette and putting his phone and the box next to where he sat, his long legs stretched out on either side of her. “You look awfully sexy in that, y’know. All pure and innocent. Why don’t you show me how bad you want this cock?”

“What… what do you want me to do?” Lea asked nervously.

He smirked around his cigarette. “I want you to dance for me.”

“D— dance?” she sputtered. “What kind of dance?”

“You like Halsey, don’t you?” he asked casually, opening his phone and scrolling through. “You’re gonna strip for me.”

Lea blanched at that, and he looked up at her, chuckling softly at her expression. “Don’t be nervous, angel. It’s just me.”

“I… I wanna please you,” she admitted.

He hummed. “You’re so sweet, you know that?” She blushed, and he tapped a song on his phone, the beat of Strange Love filling the room. “C’mon, baby. Just move with the music and take your clothes off. Anything you do will please me, I promise.”

Lea closed her eyes and tried to focus on the beat, swaying her hips to the rhythm.

“That’s it,” Tim encouraged, taking another drag from his cigarette. “Now turn around and unzip your dress for me.”

She did so, letting him watch as inch after inch of her pale, freckled skin was revealed to his eyes. He hummed when the dress was so loose that it fell to the floor at her feet.

“Good girl,” he praised. “Shake your ass for me, baby. Sway it.”

She did so, slowly moving her hips from side to side, hoping it was what he wanted. “Like this?”

He reached out to squeeze her asscheek roughly through her lace panties that hardly covered anything to begin with before smacking it lightly. “Fuck, you’re sexy,” he groaned. “Yeah, like that. God, the way it jiggles.”

Emboldened by his enthusiasm, Lea swayed her hips a bit more, enjoying the way he praised her.

“Fuck,” he said again. “Take off your bra, sweetheart.”

She considered this for a moment before deciding not to turn around and face him, instead choosing to reach behind her back and unbuckle her bra, letting the straps slip from her shoulders and her breasts escape the cups. With a small smile over her shoulder, she tossed the bra at him and moved her hips to the beat. “There you go,” she told him with a slight giggle.

Tim laughed in disbelief. “You little minx!” he exclaimed with delight. “I didn’t know you had that in you.”

“Are you gonna teach me a lesson?” she wanted to know.

“If you keep it up, I might have to,” he warned. “You are acting like a dirty slut.”

Lea turned on her heels, one arm covering her breasts and walking towards him. He was still smoking his cigarette, watching her intently. “Maybe I want to be a slut for you, Timothée,” she said softly, putting her thumb in her panties to slide them over one hip just a little. “Maybe I want you to remind me who owns me.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, his eyes bouncing around her form. “You’re such a tease. Don’t forget whose slave you are.”

Lea pouted, feigning displeasure. “I’m not a slave.”

Tim practically jumped at the opportunity. “Ohhhh, yes, yes you are. And I’m going to prove it to you.” He took a drag before continuing, “Take your panties off and get on your knees.”

Lea didn’t, instead choosing to cross her other arm over her breasts and raise an eyebrow at him, her core tingling in anticipation of what he’d do to punish her for not obeying immediately.

“Don’t be a brat,” he snapped. “I had those panties custom made for you. I’d really rather not have to rip them off you. And quit trying to hide your tits from me. They belong to me just like the rest of you, so let me see them.”

Lea sighed, finally removing her arms from over her breasts and sliding her panties down her body slowly.

“Good girl,” he praised lowly. “See? It’s not so hard to behave for me, is it? Now get on your knees.” He took a drag of his cigarette with one hand, the other pointing between where his feet were on the floor. 

She knew he wanted her to suck his dick, and god did she want to, but she loved riling him up. It was so sexy when he got frustrated. “Hmmm,” she hummed in consideration. “No, I don’t think I will.”

“I didn’t fucking ask,” Tim finally snapped, grabbing her hand and forcing her to her knees. “Suck it.”

“No. You’re so demanding.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed, grabbing the back of her hair firmly and forcing her to his cock so her lips brushed against it. “Suck it.”

She knew that if she truly didn’t want it, she could make it known to him easily. But that wasn’t the case here. Her mouth was watering at the mere idea of being able to pleasure him the way he was wanting, of making him moan her name.

Pretending to be reluctant, she took his dick in her mouth and started to suck the head, watching his face with wide eyes all the while.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “You know what you’re good for, don’t you? Just a couple of holes for me to use, hm?”

She moaned in delight around his length, moving faster over him. 

“Such a whore,” Tim observed, taking a drag of his cigarette. “You didn’t even wanna suck my cock and here you are, moaning around it like the slut you are.”

Lea reached between her legs and started to rub her clit, aching for relief. She wanted him so badly, wanted to please him so much, and god did she want him inside her.

“Look at you,” he gasped. “Such a slut that you can’t help but pleasure yourself when you’re sucking me, huh? You like sucking my cock that much?”

“Mhm,” she confirmed, moving her mouth faster and hollowing out her cheeks.

“Well, too bad,” Tim decided, reaching forward and smacking her ass sharply. She yelped around his length, but decided that stopping her ministrations for the punishment alone wasn’t worth it. “You’ll either cum on my cock or not at all.”

Lea glared up at him as she pulled her hand away from herself, mildly annoyed that he felt the need to control every little thing.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he snapped, smacking her ass again. “You’re lucky I’m letting you cum at all with how much sass you’ve been giving me.” When she closed her eyes so she couldn’t be seen glaring at him and resumed her task, he hummed in contentment. “Good girl,” Tim praised softly, and she could smell the menthol on his breath as he exhaled, his free hand running through her hair.

She looked up at him, watched him smile down at her and stroke her cheek as she sucked him. She was thrilled to be doing a good job, that he was enjoying himself.

He took another drag from his cigarette before snuffing it out and opening the box, removing its contents. She couldn’t quite see exactly what it was, but she knew it was shiny and sparkly. 

“I got you a present, angel.” His voice was mixed with the slurping sounds from her sucking his dick, and she paused as he reached around her back to fasten a clasp at the back of her throat, cool metal settling around her neck and falling between her breasts.

Surprised at the sensation, Lea pulled off of him, reaching up to where the necklace rested. Her fingertips brushed a large, smooth stone and she had only begun to say, “What—“ before the back of her hair was gripped firmly. 

“Did I tell you to stop?” Tim demanded, guiding her mouth back towards his dick. She grumbled in annoyance, but resumed sucking him anyway. “Tell you what,” he sighed contentedly as she hollowed her cheeks out again, “I’ll fuck you in front of a mirror so you can see it. How’s that sound?”

She hummed around him happily, wanting to see what he’d gotten her but not wanting to displease him.

“C’mon, baby girl,” Tim finally decided after she hadn’t stopped squeezing her thighs together for several minutes. Pulling her off of him, he stood, pulling her up with him and wiping saliva from beneath her lip before kissing her deeply. She had only just started to wrap her arms around him when he laughed softly, pulling back and turning off the music, tugging her towards the bathroom. “C’mon,” he said again.

She smiled, letting her heels slip from her feet as she followed after him.

Tim grinned down at her, twirling her in a circle like they were dancing. She half expected him to dip her. She giggled as he stopped the twirl with them both facing the mirror, his arms around her waist as he leaned down to kiss her neck. Lea moved her hair to one side so he could access the skin he seemed to want. 

And then she glanced in the mirror for the first time. Lea did a double take upon seeing the necklace. It was made of a woven snake, covered in… diamonds? No, they couldn’t be diamonds, there were just too many of them. From the head of the snake hung a stone of cornflower blue that was about the size of her thumb. 

Tim must’ve heard her sharp intake of breath, because he hummed against her throat, reaching up to fondle her breasts and meeting her eyes in the mirror. “Like it?”

“Tim,” she breathed, shocked. “This is incredible, where did you— how—“

He shrugged, grinning at their reflections and pinching her nipples lightly. “Zendaya pulled some strings.”

“But why?” Lea asked, shellshocked, watching the way the blue stone sparkled with every movement she made, every breath she took. 

He kissed her neck, one of his hands trailing down between her legs, rubbing her clit idly, almost lazily. “Because I saw it and immediately thought of my beautiful girlfriend, whom I adore. I wanted to see you wearing it. Preferably naked.”

She arched into his touch. “God, Tim, I—“

“I love it when you say my name like that,” he growled, sucking a hickey into the skin of her neck and dipping a finger inside her. “Look at how wet this pussy is. You gonna be a good girl for me, hm?”

“Yes,” she moaned pleadingly, watching him touch her in the mirror. “I will, I promise—“

“Of course you will, sweetheart. You’re gonna let me fuck a baby into you, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she gasped, rolling her hips as he started to rub her clit faster. “God, yes, I want your baby, I want you to get me pregnant, please—“

“I know you do,” Tim growled in her ear, the hand on her breast migrating to her stomach. “I know you do. And I will. As soon as you graduate, Lea, you’re never taking birth control again, understand? Gonna keep you pregnant all the time. All the fucking time. You’ll stay in my bed, waiting for me with your legs wide open so I can fuck my fill whenever I want. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” she moaned, half at the attention he was paying her clit and half at the image he painted in her mind: herself, heavily pregnant and waiting for him to come home and use her to pleasure himself, him fucking baby after baby into her, she’d give him more children than any other woman, she’d please him more than anyone else, she would, she had to. “I need—“

“I know what you need, angel,” Tim crooned. “Such a slut for it, aren’t you? Dirty little thing, so empty without my cock to fill you up and keep you satisfied. Just a pretty little hole for my pleasure.”

“Yes,” she whined. “Yes, Timothée, I’m yours, I’m yours to use.”

Tim groaned. “Then bend the fuck over.” He pushed her forcefully onto the counter. It was pretty deep, so he was able to get her entire torso up onto the black-and-white marble without any issue, her legs dangling freely. Gripping her hair so firmly her scalp stung, he met her gaze in the mirror, leaning forward to whisper in her ear. “Beg for it.”

“Your cock,” she whined, wiggling her hips and kicking her legs, trying in vain to pull him closer, get him inside her. “I need it, I need it, so empty without you, wanna be filled, fill me up, give me your cock, please—“

He smirked. “Good girl.” With that, he stood back up and slammed into her with a loud moan. “Fuck, Lea,” he grunted, immediately setting a brutal pace that had her body jolting against the cool marble, her breasts pressed against it and the pendant dangling between them. “No one feels the way you do. No one’s this fucking tight.”

“Harder,” she moaned, even as his hips slammed against her ass bruisingly. “God, Timothée, harder—“

He grasped her hair and jerked her head up again so he could meet her eyes in the mirror. His hair was falling in his face as he kissed her neck wetly, her body jolting with his every thrust. “You see us, baby? You see who owns you?”

Nodding despite the tug on her scalp, Lea clawed at the counter uselessly, moaning as he took her. “You do, you do,” she chanted desperately. “You own me, I exist for you, I swear, I’m all yours, I’m your slave, just don’t stop—“

He pulled back, letting her fall forward onto her arms again, smacking her ass sharply, and she yelped at the sting. “Bad girl,” he scolded. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, remember? I give the commands, you obey them.”

“Yes, yes,” she moaned, reveling in the delicious way he was stretching her. “God, you’re so big—“

“You take me so well, babydoll,” Tim crooned, his gentle tone at odds with the punishing way he was thrusting into her. “You’re doing such a good job, taking my cock like the dirty little thing you are, clenching around me like a whore, desperate to be filled.”

“I am,” she whined. “I am desperate for you, I need this, I need this, fuck, I love you so much—“

Lea hadn’t even realized what she’d said; the words had just slipped out without her consent. He froze, his hand stopping its movements along her back. “What did you say?” he asked lowly.

Realizing her mistake, her heart stopped. Or maybe it pounded harder, she wasn’t entirely sure. “I… um…” She gulped nervously, unsure of how to get out of this situation.

Tim gripped her hips firmly, possessively, his fingertips digging into her skin. “What. Did. You. Say?” he demanded.

She felt his gaze on her in the mirror, but she didn’t meet it, choosing instead to keep her head down. “I’m in love with you,” she said softly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, I—“

He laughed in disbelief. “You— you what?”

Tears filled her eyes, because he was laughing at her, at her feelings for him, and she was about to turn around as best she could and shove him away from her when he pulled out of her, snatched her up off the counter, and before she’d even had a chance to register the sudden movement, she’d been tossed onto his bed.

Tim climbed on after her, crawling towards her slowly like a predator stalking its prey. “Don’t apologize for that,” he said darkly. “Don’t ever apologize for that. Understood?” 

Lea nodded rapidly, breathlessly, unsure of what to make of this reaction. 

“Don’t look so scared,” he reassured her as he caged her in with his arms. “Loving me,” he went on, “is not something to fear.”

“It’s not?” she asked shakily, the terror of what she’d just revealed to him swirling in her stomach.

“No,” Tim insisted. “No, of course not. You don’t have to be scared of anything with me, but especially not that.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m in love with you, too.”

Her heart soared, a smile breaking out on her face. “You— you are?”

He gazed down at her adoringly, his smile matching her own. “Of course I am, angel. I’m desperately, hopelessly in love with you.” He kissed her neck, fiddling with the stone hanging from the necklace. “Why did you think I got you this?”

“I— I don’t know,” Lea stuttered.

Reaching down to spread her legs open for him to settle between, he said, “Because I love you. Because you're mine and I love you and I want everyone who sees you wearing it to know how very, very loved you are.”

She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. “I’ve always been yours, Tim.”

He smiled, cupping her cheek and leaning down to kiss her softly, sweetly. “You’re mine,” he agreed against her lips, “and I’m yours.”

Tim ran his hands over her body, cupping her breasts, thumbing her nipples, squeezing her hips. When he slid back into her, she gasped out a breathless, “I love you.”

He resumed fucking her, leaning back down to kiss her hungrily. “I’m so happy you love me back. You’re everything to me.” He stroked her cheek, setting a rough pace again. “Everything.”

“You’re everything to me, too,” she moaned, arching up into him, eagerly meeting his thrusts.

“Say it again, Lea,” he begged, mouthing at her neck. “Tell me you love me again.”

“I love you,” she gasped out, her breasts bouncing from the force of his thrusts despite the way their chests were pressed together. “I love you so much, I’m so in love with you—“

“Yes,” he groaned, gripping her hair with one hand and reaching down to hold her hip in place with the other. “Yes, you’re mine, this pussy is all mine, I own you, my love, mon amour—“

She turned her face slightly so she could press a kiss into his curls. “Every part of me belongs to you, Timothée,” she whined, writhing beneath him from how good he was making her feel. “My pussy, my boobs, my— my womb, my heart, my very soul belongs to you.”

“Fuck,” he moaned, propping himself up on his elbows to kiss her again. “I never knew just how much I wanted that until I heard you say it.”

Giddy with the overflowing adoration she felt for him, Lea smiled into their kiss, threading her fingers into his curls.

“Mon amour,” he murmured against her lips, still driving into her. “Promise me something, my love. Please.”

She beamed at the notion of being able to do something for him, to give him something he wanted. “Anything, Timothée. I’d give you anything.”

He smiled down at her, brushing her hair from her eyes. “Just don’t leave me. Can you promise me that?”

Lea giggled, meeting his thrusts and pulling him down for another kiss. “Always, Tim,” she swore. “I’ll always be yours. I’m not going anywhere. Not ever.”

“Thank god,” he groaned, peppering her face with kisses. “I love you, I love you, I love you—“

“I love you, too,” she moaned, arching her back when he grasped one of her breasts, squeezing it roughly. “Please, I want more, I want more of you, don’t stop—“

His other hand found her hip, and he gripped it possessively. “Never,” he growled. “I’m never stopping. You are mine.”

“Yes,” Lea gasped, clutching at him desperately. “Yes, I’m yours.”

“I wanna cover you in bruises,” he groaned, sucking another hickey into the flushed, sensitive skin of her throat. “I wanna hold you down and show you who owns your pussy, who owns all of you, every part of you belongs to me, every fucking part—“

“Fuck,” she whined, rolling her hips upwards, eager for more of the exquisite pleasure he was giving her. “I’d never forget who owns me. I exist for you.”

“Good girl.” His teeth grazed her neck, and he trailed his mouth further down her body so as to capture her nipple between his lips, suckling deeply.

“Fuck!” Lea exclaimed, arching into the sensation, holding his face to her breast, wanting more. “God, right there, Timothée, right there—“

He growled around her nipple, nibbling on it lightly. “Wanna make you cum,” he told her, reaching between them to rub at her hypersensitive clit. “Wanna feel your pussy clench around me before I fill you up.”

“Yes, yesyesyesyesyes—“

He reached up and looked her in the eye, gripping her throat firmly just beneath her jaw. “Say my name,” he demanded. “Say my fucking name. Tell me you love me. You’re my slave, my cockslut, and I wanna hear how much you love it, how much you love me.”

“I love you,” she keened as he rubbed her clit faster. “I love you, Timothée, I love you, I’m so in love with you, oh, please—“

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned, kissing her again. “You gonna cum for me?”

“Yes,” she gasped pleadingly, her walls starting to spasm around him. “Yes, I’m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum—“

“Good girl,” Tim praised lowly. “That’s it. Cum for me. Tell me you love me when I make you cum.”

Her back arched, her body freezing up as she came, forcing out an, “I love you—“ with a desperate moan. 

She was dazed from the orgasm he’d ripped from her when his mouth found hers, but she kissed him back lazily, running her fingers through his hair as he fucked into her roughly.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, god, Lea, I’m gonna cum—“ he chanted into her mouth. 

“Yes,” she breathed in soft encouragement. “Cum in me, Tim. Please.”

He wrapped his arms around her, clutching her against him with a groan before collapsing against her, panting into her neck and kissing one of the hickeys he’d given her, his lips grazing the necklace.

They lay there holding each other for a few minutes, and she cherished the way he nuzzled her, pressing gentle kisses onto any skin he could reach. When he finally rolled off of her, he kissed her nose with a heart-stopping grin, and she watched as he strolled into his bathroom. 

Tim returned a few minutes later with a wet washcloth. He cleaned her up before plopping back down on the bed with her, pulling her body up against his. “Did you mean it when you said you loved me?” he asked softly, brushing her hair from her eyes.

“Yes,” Lea breathed.

His face split into a grin, and he kissed her softly, slowly. “I love you, too.” He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against hers and running a hand up and down her side as he hummed a tune she didn’t recognize. “Your touch paralyzes me in the morning,” he sang softly, “and I don’t want you to go.” Lea watched him as he sang to her, wondering what the song was from. “Sincerely yours, forevermore.” With that, he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close to him and burying his face in her curls.

“What was that from?” she asked, playing with his hair absentmindedly.

“Scott showed me a song,” he said, nuzzling her affectionately. “Made me think of you.”

Lea laughed in disbelief. “Seriously?”

“Mhm.” He kissed her neck. “My Lea, my love.”

She giggled. “What other songs make you think of me?”

He considered this for a moment before starting to hum again; a different melody this time. “The mere sight of you,” he sang in her ear between kisses, “you’re like the sunrise, and it’s like you know me.” His arm tightened around her waist. “And I’m so lost in a dream,” he continued. “When I sleep, there you’ll be. You’re such an angel, in your halo.” He stopped humming then, choosing to focus on kissing her neck instead. “I love you so much, Lea.”

“I love you, too,” she told him, pulling him closer. “More than anything in the world.”

He kissed her then, slow and lazy, and when Lea returned it, she poured every ounce of love and adoration she felt for him into it.

And then his phone rang. “Ugh,” he groaned, resting his forehead against hers.

Laughing softly, she pressed a swift kiss to his lips. “It might be important,” she pointed out.

“You’re right, you’re right,” he grumbled, the words sounding very much like a complaint as he rolled over onto his back to grab his phone. “It’s Crystal,” he sighed.

Her heart stopped. Crystal as in his wife?

Settling back down, Tim answered the call and put his phone to his ear. “Hey, babe,” he greeted. “What’s up? Is Elle okay?”

He stroked her bare side idly, thoughtlessly. Lea didn’t know what to think. 

“Yeah,” he answered a question she couldn’t hear, “I’m with Lea right now.”

He smiled at her then, and she smiled shakily back at him. She hadn’t been aware his wife knew who she was, but she—Crystal, that is—was his primary partner. Of course she knew who Lea was.

“Yup,” he said happily, “almost three months now.” 

With that, he took her hand, twining their fingers together, and she realized he was talking about their relationship. He was telling his wife how long they’d been together.

“Sure,” he agreed even as he brushed a kiss to Lea’s knuckles, “I’ll see you Saturday, then. Uh huh. Love you, too. Bye.”

With that, he hung up, and Lea couldn’t breathe all of a sudden.

He told her he loves her, he told her he loves her, he told her he loves her, he told her he loves her, he told her he loves her, he told her he loves her—

“Now,” he began with a grin, “where were we?” He leaned back in to kiss her, and Lea felt repulsed, because yeah, this was Tim, and she loved him, of course she did, but she was very quickly realizing that he didn’t love her. Or at least, he didn’t love her the way she loved him. Maybe he loved her on some level, but he wasn’t in love with her. He couldn’t be. She ached for him so intensely, yearned for him with every breath she took— just him and no one else, and he… he could fuck any reasonably attractive girl he met.

How many others had he claimed to be in love with recently?

She backed away as he tried to kiss her, not wanting him putting his hands on her.

God, how could she have been so stupid? He’d literally been inside another woman when she’d gotten there, and she’d believed him when he said he was in love with her? How stupid was she?

“Lea?” he asked in surprise. “What’s wrong, mon amour? What is it?”

“How am I supposed to be okay with this?” she asked, her voice soft and shaky.

Tim’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Okay with what?”

She sat up, raking a hand through her hair. “You fucking other girls,” she said impatiently. “Your— your fucking wife calling you while we’re in bed together, you telling her you love her! How am I supposed to be okay with any of that?”

He sat up with her, concern evident on his face. “Lea,” he said slowly, “are… are you jealous?”

She scoffed. “Of course I’m jealous! I’ve always been jealous!”

“Well…” he hedged, sounding unsure of what he wanted to say, “why didn’t you tell me?”

She scoffed again. “What, I fall in love with my best friend who’s married with a kid, eight girlfriends besides me, plus however many other girls at his disposal and I’m just supposed to… explain to you how I’m feeling? What was I supposed to say, that I wanted you to myself?”

“Yes!” he insisted incredulously. “Yes, of course you should tell me that!”

Lea was crying by this point, and she couldn’t seem to stop. He reached for her, and she lurched back from him as if his touch would burn her skin. “I would’ve lost you!” she snapped. “I didn’t want that! I was already so in love with you I couldn’t think about anything else, and if I had told you how I felt, I would’ve lost you.”

He clenched his eyes shut briefly. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I… I didn’t know. I’m in love with you, too. I really am.”

Bitter, angry laughter sputtered out of her lips. “No you’re not.”

He frowned. “What do you mean I’m not? Of course I am.”

“You’re not in love with me,” she said flatly. “You’re not in love with anyone. I don’t think you’re even capable of it.”

Tears filled his eyes at that. “How could you say that?” he demanded. “How could you even think that?“

“Because you fuck every girl in sight, Tim,” she snapped. “Do you say you love them, too?”

He was silent for several seconds. “Not everyone I sleep with. Just a few of my girlfriends. Crystal, too.”

Lea stared at him incredulously. “Then you’re not in love with me or any of the others,” she told him flatly.

“I am in love with you, though,” he insisted, reaching for her again and wincing when she backed away from him. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

She stood up with a scoff. “What, and spend the rest of my life as part of your little harem? Is that what you want? No fucking thank you.”

“Look,” he said hastily, “I know— I know it can be a bit much at first, but I promise you’ll get used to it. You never have to meet the others if you don’t want to. I’ll show you how much I love you. Don’t go, Lea. Please.”

She wasn’t listening to him. She didn’t want anything he’d gotten her. She didn’t want anything he’d spent money on. She wanted her own clothes, ones she’d bought herself. With this in mind, she walked around to the other side of his bed and into one of his two ridiculously huge walk-in closets.

Moving to standing in front of a large built-in set of drawers, she opened the top one and took out several articles of clothing she’d left there several months prior.

Tim had followed her into the closet, and was babbling something or other about how he loved her, how he adored her, blah blah blah. What the fuck ever. It was such bullshit, and she was over it. She didn’t wanna hear about how he loved her. Not if he didn’t, really. Which he didn’t. He couldn’t.

Lea was crying, and she knew he was, too, but she was determined. She wasn’t going to let him lie to her, and if it wasn’t a lie, then she wasn’t going to play along with his delusions.

Once she was dressed, she grabbed a pair of shoes from the drawer, eternally grateful to her past self. Moving around him back into his room wordlessly, took off the ring earrings, and bracelet, reaching behind her neck and unclasping the necklace. It was beautiful; gorgeous, really, and she almost hated to give it back to him, but there were plenty of other girls he could give it to.

When she dropped it on his bed, he made a choking sound that she ignored, grabbing her phone and shoving it in her pocket as she started towards the elevator. “Lea, baby,” he was begging tearfully, “we can talk about this, you don’t have to go, you promised you’d never leave me—“

She pressed the down button before turning to face him, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You can…” She took a deep, shuddering breath before continuing. “You can have your wife and your kids. You can have your baby mamas and your harem.” He was staring at her in wide-eyed shock, but she still said, “But you can’t have me, too. I’m done.”

And then the elevator door opened, and she was gone.

I knowwwwwww I’m sorry I’m sorry gimme a few minutes I promise you it gets better I’m posting the rest in a sec here

Tag list: @meetmyothersouls @ellamaianderson @shika1200 @blackqueenstarseed1 @gatoenlaciudad @esmaada @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @softhecreator @timolaurence @timmymyluv @oddlyenoughiamweird @leecrunchybones @s-we-e-t-t-ea @almostg @vampire-reanimator

To be added, please ask 💗

[eviesessays]

41. What stories have you been told about yourself as a baby?

I loved my Dad and never had any doubt the feeling was mutual. It was he who told me stories of my early days.  I also remember from my early days wanting to be liked the most and the best.  I loved my brothers, Clifford and Carl, but I did want to be firmly established as the apple of my father’s eye.  He tells the story of coming home from work on his bicycle and the boys met him at the front gate.  He put them both on the crossbar and gave them a ride to the garage in the backyard.  I was there and was crushed that they got a ride and I didn’t.  For a long while I kept a   the front gate when his arrival time neared.

My Dad tells stories when I was about two years old.  I would sit on his lap facing him and hold his ears saying,”gib up, gib up. Yay down, yay down, yay down.  My Dad said this went on until his ears burned.  I never tired of this game.  

I can actually remember my mother frequently pleading with me to walk nicely and to stop running. I can remember trying to be compliant but quickly and easily forgetting the plea.  I can remember the new plaid skirt I was wearing when the caution came too late. I was running and fell tearing holes in the knees of my stockings. My new skirt was spared but i did not escape the disciplining hand of my mother.  There were many similar episode and I cannot help but wonder if it was some foreboding of things to come.  In my 70’s I was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease and my stability on foot is again pretty unstable.  These days I am very cautious so I feel those early warnings and cautions are not totally lost.

I remember my mother’s uncle, Sam coming to visit us.  He took us on nature walks near our home he identified things and plants by both their English and German names.  When my Dad came home one day after one of our nature walks, we greeted him declaring that we now could speak German. To demonstrate our newfound knowledge we proudly said, “Duck, svim in crick”.  We thought uncle Sam’s highly accented English was German.  What he said to us in German escaped us completely.  We loved our uncle Sam. He was a rotund man with a huge smile, happy disposition and a large handle bar mustache, 

I don’t know how old I was when Carl fell in some construction debris and opened a large gash in his left calf.  I helped him indoors and reported to my mother that I thought his guts were falling were falling out through his leg.  My mother did not pause or look away from what occupied her.  She hoped he would learn a lesson.  I was left to care for Carl. I do not remember cleaning the wound but I did bandage his leg and how he escaped a serious infection escapes me. 

We did not have colorful swing sets or jungle gyms in our back yards but the neighbors did have a 1929 Ford in their garage that I never remember being out of the garage. It proved a great mysterious place to play for the boys in the neighborhood.  They would go into the car and disappear and then come marching into the garage.  I was determined to find the answer to this magic trick.  As I snuck behind one boy I held the side of the door as he climbed in.  Then he slammed the door and the only part of me in that car was my finger tips.  I remember my hand being freed and my mitt dripping blood.  My ring and little finger were split open.  My brothers, given the price I had paid for my curiosity decided to tell me how the car trick worked.  There was no magic involved.  The floor boards of the car were totally rotted out as was a hole in the garage wall next to the car.  I had no interest in that car after that day.  

My mother tells the story of when we still lived on Queen Street.  It was a Spring day and we were all running around with our tams pulled over our eyes.  I can remember we were playing with Pat and Catherine from next door and I ran into the telephone pole and knocked myself out cold.  I have no recollection of what happened beyond that.  

I remember a red coat,hat and leggings I had when I was about three.  I remember seeing that coat in pictures and I remember going for walks with my Dad and brothers on Sundays which was his only day off from work.  We were always dressed in our Sunday best and we were usually treated to a candy or ice cream.  This was 1938 to 1940 so we were very fortunate to have nice clothes and even small sweet treats.

The one unfailing memory I have from my childhood is that of my Dad reassuring me that I was his, “little darling” and I always wanted to retain that place.

[kriffingunlucky]

Hey I absolutely adore your writing and was wondering if I could request a female reader with Crosshair where the reader is just straight flirting with him and he’s completely clueless to it?

Uh, totally? This is absolutely perfect. >:] And omg! Thank you so much, dearest! I really appreciate that. You guys liking my work is all that keeps me going. So these compliments make my world brighter. I put a "read more" link because this got longer than I was expecting hehe.

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

This has been going on for way too long.

Every morning for the past couple of weeks you greet Crosshair with a chipper "good morning, handsome!", or a compliment of that sort. A huge smile plastered on your face. The day goes on, your tasks get done, but you always follow him around and spend whatever time you're able to with him. Smiling all the while. You help him with anything he could possibly need help with. You compliment and tease him. You pat his arms and shoulders affectionately.

Why hasn't the clueless asshole caught onto your hints yet?

You really thought you were being pretty damn obvious. But it's also kind of cute that he doesn't really notice it, or at least think anything of it, at least; you hope.

You lay on top of the Havoc Marauder. Deep in thought. Eyes cast onto the stars above you.

Another Republic base in a small village you all have docked yourselves at to stock back up on supplies, another gift you've snuck onboard for Crosshair. And he still thinks nothing of the kiss that came with it. Damnit.

Chatter spread throughout the Republic occupied space, you casually walking with Wreckers huge poncho over your shoulders back to the ship, trying to be as inconspicuous as you could be.

Which wasn't very inconspicuous.

Because as you approached the Marauder Hunter did a double take at you, brows furrowing in suspicion at your form.

"Hello, (Y/n). What are you doing out?" He crossed his arms firmly over his chest.

You scoffed, placing a hand over your chest. Mock hurt in your voice. "Can a girl not go out and enjoy the city while she finally has the time?"

"Mmhm," Hunter takes a breath in. Giving you an up-down scan. "Why are you wearing Wrecker's poncho?"

"It is comfortable."

"But you have your own that fits you perfectly fine."

"Yes but his is comfier."

"Okay. But it looks as if you're hiding something underneath it. You're more bulky."

"Are you calling me fat?"

"Wha- No? Why would I do that?"

"Because you're mean! You're questioning me!"

"(Y/n)-"

"I am going to cry. And it's all because of you."

"I-"

"ALL BECAUSE OF YOU."

The Sergent throws his hands into the air, groaning, absolutely exasperated. He turns to walk back to where he was before. Loading things into the cargo hold of their small home. "Fine! Whatever! I just hope that thing you're sneaking into the ship for reasons that are beyond me do not involve me! At all!"

You grin as smooth as a tooka cat, sauntering your way into the Marauder, cooing behind you. "No worries, sarge. You'll never hear of this again."

Shedding off the large poncho you'd worn, you lay it on Wrecker's bunk, yelling through the ship. "Thank you for the poncho lend, Wreck!"

In which you get a hardy laugh and, "No problem, little'un!" in response.

Taking your time unwrapping the large basket of sweets you'd smuggled into the ship, you repackage them in a fancy way. Thinking it's rather pretty before you pick it up and scamper to wherever you thought Crosshair might be.

With no luck on your first attempts, you hear Echo's breathy chuckle. "He is outside, napping, surprisingly. You'll see him. He's laying out on the grass like a dramatic starfish."

You grin and yell a loud "thank you" as you jog from the ship, clearing your throat a couple times as you look for him. It really didn't take long to find him sprawled out in the grass. Eyes open, and looking up at the sunset that paints the sky.

Good, so I don't have to wake him. You thought in a sigh of relief.

You open your mouth to speak as you halted yourself in front of him. Standing above his head.

But when he looked up at you with his honey filled eyes, you were love struck again, and at an awkward loss of words. Again.

"(Y/n)." He greets curtly. Not having anything against you, really, but also not being super friendly with you. He was, though, very curious as to what is in that basket of yours.

He was re-situating to see whatever you had in your hands better as you began to gather your thoughts again. "Hi, Cross!" Was your very annoying, in your own anxious opinion, start. "I brought'cha something!"

The sniper raises his silver eyebrows, holding his hands out to take it from you when you offered it towards him. He hummed in confirmation and interest when he set it in his lap.

He was sorting through the contents, so you took that extended silence to speak. "I bought you some sweets from the village venders, because you're a sweet treat yourself!"

Crosshair snorted a small laugh, picking through the items and very silently judging them. You swallowed as you kept smiling. Worried you'd overdone it this time.

But when he looked up at you, meeting your eyes, his expression was absolutely beaming. No, he wasn't smiling. Nor was he really showing that he was happy with it through his facial expression par say. It was through the vibrancy of his eyes that you could tell he loved it.

They were extra shimmery.

"Hope you like it." You grinned, very satisfied with your results. And with a newfound confidence, you leaned down, kissing his cheek softly.

Turning around and walking away, practically skipping, actually, you left a dumbfounded but now quietly happy Crosshair behind you.

And you hadn't heard anything about it from him since. You rubbed your face, half of you frustrated and the other half was entertained by his obliviousness. You'd all eaten dinner together, and laughed about the day.

Tech said that you were making heart eyes at Cross the whole time, but, you refuse to believe that. Even though Echo and Wrecker second that accusation.

"I can be happy being his friend." You spoke to yourself, trying to convince your own brain of this, "He doesn't have to like me the way I like him."

The silence outside was almost mocking your statement.

"Who am I kidding?" You groaned into your hands.

Moments later, after you'd calmed down and just ended up silently gazing at the stars. You heard footsteps climbing the latter to the top of the Marauder. Lifting your head a tad from your laying position you make eye contact with Crosshair.

Letting your head thump against the ground, you sigh quietly. Not even really having much energy to chat with him. You hoped he hasn't come up here to scold you for your gift. Calling it "dumb" and "unprofessional", like you'd worried he thought it was.

"Hey, handsome." You mumble. Adjusting your hands to lay on top of your stomach, laced together slackly, eyes cast away from him.

Crosshair comes close to you, and stands beside where you're sitting for a couple of moments. The atmosphere a tad tense. And you knew it was only because of your tired mind.

You'd been so confident about flirting with him before. But you've slowly come to worry, well, you're at least just worrying right now; that maybe he understands you're flirting and is just ignoring you.

Crosshair sits beside you with a small thump, not saying anything still. Crossing his legs, then pulling something out of the ammo pack on his belt, he hands it to you open palmed.

"Here." He spoke softly.

You hummed and sat yourself half up on your elbows, furrowing your brows at what he holds. You couldn't really see it. It was dark and unlike him, you didn't have enhanced vision. "What's this?"

The sniper snorts. "Take it and find out."

You huff a laugh and sit up fully, taking the mysterious object from his hands with care. Inspecting it for a moment, you soon come to a realization.

It's a piece of candy.

One of the piece's you'd given him earlier, to be exact.

"I thought I'd thank you for giving me those nice sweets." He commented, almost bashfully, when you'd looked up at him with a smile.

"Of course, honeypot! It's my pleasure." You grin and wiggle your body from side to side. Scooting a tad closer to him. Your heart fluttering when your actions earned a small smile from the man.

You love it when he smiles. Especially at you.

"Don't call me that." He huffed out, but with no venom in his voice. Shaking his head as he watched you re-situate closer to him.

"Awww," You whine playfully. "Why not, beautiful? You're as sweet as honey! It's a perfect fit."

"No. It's cringy."

"I'm hurt by your words," you joke as you gently lean your head onto his shoulder. Breathing in a big breath. "Can I call you honeybear?"

"Oh," He snorts, "Please no."

"What about just honey?"

Crosshair sighed, smiling, even though you couldn't see it. And laid his head on top of yours. "That will be acceptable if you insist on with these dumb honey themed names."

You giggled - arm hooking around his, small hand laying on top of the other's larger one, (e/c) eyes fluttering closed - then sighed. "Perfect."

And that is when Crosshair realized, he realized he was catching feelings for you. But much to his unknown relief, he's lucky you felt the same, because all of your pickup lines and pet names still haven't clicked for him. Not yet at least.

Just wait until he asks Tech about it.

[folkloreguk]

Moving Antics (M)

A/N: This was requested a while ago and I hope you will enjoy it! I always welcome feedback of any kind! Have a good day x

genre: smut, optional bias (m) x reader (f), oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, overstimulation (a tiny bit), dom!bias, very lowkey roleplaying??, reader wears a maid outfit (not in a degrading way)

words: ~ 5.4 k

tag list: @mochi-ficz (let me know if you wanna be tagged when I post new fics!)

People had told you over and over. Moving is a stressful, exhausting process. It would take a while for you to settle in. Until everything had found its perfect place, weeks could pass. At least that’s what everybody said. What they all failed to understand, though, was that being in love could make the most tiring experience fun. Was it stressful? Sometimes. Exhausting? Why don’t you ask yourself that, when you fell into bed like a walking corpse at night? But all it took was a glimpse at your boyfriend as he carried inside the box that said ‘anniversary gifts’ and it was all worth it. You were confident in one thing at least. In the settling in department you were both ranking foremost.

You had lived in the apartment for only a week, and you couldn’t have been more all-over-each-other. Somehow there seemed to be an unspoken challenge you had both taken on. Maybe you two could set a record for most surfaces in a flat someone could have sex on. Or perhaps you should have started marking the rooms and spaces you hadn’t been able to add to your list yet. There wouldn’t have been many left. At the moment, there was only one downside to being so head-over-heels in love. A lot of the boxes in the apartment had been left unattended, as if you only waited long enough, the things would start flying out of the cartons and miraculously sort themselves out while you could stay there, in bed with your lover between your legs.

But this wasn’t Hogwarts and you weren’t some magician. And so one rainy Saturday noon you decided it would be thatday. The day you finally put away all the things that were still in the boxes. Not that the day had been successful so far. It was 12 pm and you were in bed. The shower was running in the bathroom next door, and you wondered how you would convince your boyfriend and yourself that getting things done would be a worthwhile pastime. Telling yourself you would come up with a tactic with your eyes closed, you tricked yourself into daydreaming for a little while longer, cuddled in the blankets that still smelled like him.

When you heard footsteps approach, your mind snapped back to reality. He strut through the door like a nude model, searching for some clothes to wear. His smirk when he saw you eye him was prominent and made your stomach flip. It took every last will of yours to not ask him to come back into bed with you, forget all your earlier plans and live like you were the last people on earth.

“Do you want breakfast?” he asked, finishing his outfit by pulling a shirt over his head. “I’ll make you some.”

You hummed, starry-eyed at his perfection. “Thank you,” you said. Quickly, he kissed your forehead and then walked off, presumably in the direction of the kitchen. Twenty minutes later, at the kitchen table, you finally brought up your wonderful idea.

“I think we really should unpack some more stuff today,” you said, “Don’t you think?”

“You’re right,” he said, “We’ve really been procrastinating.”

“You can say that again,” you laughed.

“Although I wouldn’t describe our scientific research of the last few days as completely pointless.”

“Our what?” you asked. You were getting up to put away the plates of your late breakfast.

“Us testing which room of the house is the most fun to have sex in,” he stated, matter of fact. “I vote for the bathroom.”

“You just love the mirrors,” you grinned, and he mirrored it.

“I do,” he said. His arms snuck around your waist from behind. “Almost as much as I love you.”

“I love you too, babe,” you said, “You know, there’s one room we haven’t tried yet.”

“The office,” he said. You turned your head and you kissed him deeply. In agreement you hummed, your arms wrapping around him. He pulled you closer, hands ghosting over the back of your thighs and up to your hips. You felt like jumping onto the counter and having him there, again, just like you had done it two days ago. But then you remembered you had other projects for the day. If you gave in to him now, you’d end up back in bed for the rest of the day, probably. Guilt was already setting in at the mere thought.

“Wait,” you pulled away and said, “We have things to get done.”

His nod was dilatory but then he seemed to recall his own determination from around two minutes ago. You wished you could have motivated him otherwise, but you were already struggling to spur on yourself to be productive. Then, you suddenly remembered something. Your eyes must have widened in surprise because he furrowed his brows at you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Stay here,” you announced, “I’ll make sure we get through with this today.”

And you were off to your bedroom. You pulled the box out from the far back of your closet. Memories flashed your mind, of when you and your boyfriend had been watching a show together. One of the characters had been wearing a provocative maid outfit, and you still thought about the way he had grinned at it, or how he had said he found it cute, which you believed translated to sexy, but he had been a little shy back then.

Long story short you bought one. And what better occasion to put it to use than now? You went all out, stockings and heels as well as your attempt at fixing your hair quickly, which you knew didn’t really matter, since you would want it out of the way if you were really going to be emptying boxes. You strut down the hall, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. The black and white costume just about covered your ass, and on your chest was a cutout in the shape of a cat’s head. The ruffles of the material bounced as you walked, excited to see your boyfriend’s reaction.

“Close your eyes!” you shouted. “No cheating!”

“I never cheat,” he said. You rolled your eyes, remembering his video game antics from the past.

“Before you say anything…this is supposed to be a motivation for us to empty the boxes. If we do that, we can have our reward,” you said.

“What reward?” he asked, eyes still shut.

“Open your eyes and you’ll know,” you said. Oh, how dearly you whished you could have captured his face on camera.

“Babe…,” he said. Then his mouth just stayed agape, as he ogled at you shamelessly. Just because he could. Because he was just thatlucky to have you.

“Do you like it?” you asked.

“Yes. Of course I do,” he said. His tone was emotionless because he was way too busy sorting out his own thoughts in his head. “But do you really think this is a good idea? How am I supposed to focus on anything but you?”

“We’ll figure it out,” you said. “Don’t you want to feel accomplished at the end of it all? If we don’t start working now, we’ll just end up feeling guilty. Again. Come on, let’s do this.”

“Alright,” he said. “Let me have one kiss.”

You laughed and granted him that one wish. His lips lingered on yours for a while. You knew he didn’t want to pull away. Neither did you. But at last, he had enough control to remove himself from you. It was the office that still needed the most work to be done. Cardboard boxes were piled on top of each other, labelled with some sort of theme or room of belonging on the outside. When you looked his way, he was only eyeing your legs. But then you grabbed the closest box to you and handed it to your boyfriend, and he snapped out of his trance.

Believe it or not, there were up- and downsides to the maid costume in this situation. The pros included feeling unnecessarily sexy whilst doing an unbelievably humane task, not getting too warm since you were already wearing little clothing and having your boyfriend virtually drooling over your appearance. The downsides were mostly reduced to one word: heels. Climbing a ladder and balancing three boxes on top of each other in your arms was an arduous task to begin with. Now add the possibility of twisting your ankle on the top step of a ladder and crashing to the floor, probably breaking your back or worse. You really couldn’t endanger the prospect of the fun you were planning on having later by taking that risk.

That’s why you chose to abandon the heels somewhere on the floor about half an hour into the process. And you came to the conclusion that finally getting over and done with what you had been procrastinating for the last week wasn’t all that bad. You were a whirlwind, running from room to room to make sure everything had its place. At some point he had turned some music on, and it was making everything even better. After all this time, you finally had your own place to decorate however you desired. As you admired how nicely things were coming together, you hummed to yourself quietly.

You weren’t sure whether he was having as much fun as you were. Especially not when you walked past him in the doorframe, carrying four pillows. Your ass – maybe not all that accidentally – brushed against his front as you entered the room. Innocence and feigned ignorance were on your face but you noticed exactly the way his eyes dwelled on you for a little longer until he got back to work.

But everything you could do he could do just as well. Fifteen minutes later, you were occupied with stacking books onto a shelf. Wanting them to stand in a very specific order turned out to be more time-consuming than you had anticipated. You heard his steps behind you, assuming he was going to walk past you. Suddenly his lips brushed against your exposed neck.

“Remember this song?” he asked. You hadn’t been focused on the music for a while now, but of course you remembered. “Remember when I fucked you to the beat of this? Because I do.”

“Babe,” you said. There was a little part in your brain that had the glorious idea of him having you right there, against the bookshelf. You wouldn’t even need to remove your clothes. With him, it took nothing but a few magic words and you felt like giving him all of you. No. It’s not time for that yet. Your rationality vanquished that little avid thought and pushed it away, back into your unconscious where it had come from. It wasn’t gone yet, only not so urgent anymore.

“You’re right,” he said. “We’ll save that for later. Just wanted to remind you of how much of a good time we can have.”

You only shook your head and grinned as he walked off, pretending to be blissfully unbothered. What goes around, comes around, after all. And you deserved that for pushing up against him earlier. It took a minute and you got back to sorting your book titles. Time passed surprisingly fast when you were being productive. Box after box emptied itself, almost as if your wish for magic powers had become reality. But it was just two people, who were so excited about their reward that they forgot to even take a proper break in between the chaos. And soon you were down to the last cardboard box. It was full of decorations you didn’t need for the current season.

Just a few more climbs up and down the ladder to the very top of the closet and you were done. He stood next to the ladder, handing you the things so you didn’t have to go all the way down each time.

“Last one,” he said, giving you a box with holiday lights. Successfully, you placed it in its new spot. When you finally made eye contact with him, he was already staring at you like you were the only thing in the room worth looking at. To be fair, from where he stood, there wasn’t much left up to his imagination. With your stockings on display, his eyes could probably go all the way up to your garter belt.

“Is this angle too revealing?” you asked.

“Absolutely,” he said, making you laugh. Smirking, he took your hand as you stepped off the ladder. You stumbled into his body as you grinned at each other. You both had the same thing on your mind, without a doubt. It was like a little inside joke you had made up just now, making you flirt through looks and small touches. His hand rubbed the small of your back as he bent to your ear.

“My pretty maid, haven’t you worked enough for the day?” he asked. “All that teasing you did today must have been soexhausting.”

You nodded overly seriously, as if riling up your horny boyfriend was physically tiring work. “I hope I did a good job. Did I?”

“No one else could have done it better,” he said. “Now let me treat you, baby.”

You hummed with your mouth already too close to his to say anything. Then your lips finally crashed onto his. It was a little ridiculous how much you missed his touch after only hours of being without it. People had told you you’d get tired of being with each other all the time. But it had been years and you still wished you could have cuffed his wrist to yours because you loved him just that much.

Your tongues fought playfully as you pushed him against the closet front. Small noises came from both of your mouths, quietly agreeing that this was what you had been waiting for – more or less patiently. Your hands became busy with the buttons of his flannel. When you came across his bare skin underneath instead of a shirt, you smiled into the kiss. Every layer less to remove meant you were one step closer to what you wanted.

“We’ve never done it in here,” you muttered against his hungry lips. “That table looks nice, doesn’t it?”

He grinned. Your hands had already messed up his hair, but nothing came close to his dark eyes in moments like these. His look never failed to make your heart skip a beat while you wondered how you had ended up with the most handsome guy in the world.

“Will you think of us, if you ever sit there and work in the future?” he asked, leading you over to the office table. He dropped his flannel on the ground on the way.

“I always think about us,” you said. “But you can make sure this one stays especially prominent in my memory.”

“There’s nothing I’d rather do,” he said, and kissed you again. Your ass was backed against the edge of the table and one of his legs pushed between your thighs. It made you whimper quietly in anticipation. He touched the little part on your thighs that was bare, playing with your garters. With your eyes closed, his tongue on yours and his hands being so close but so far from where you needed him, your head spun with dizziness. He was like a drug, like alcohol dripping straight from his lips and the more you kissed him, the less control you had over yourself. His attention gave you loose lips and the impulse to be risky, all whilst feeling so high up in the clouds you weren’t sure you’d ever find your way back down. You hissed when he pressed his fingers against your underwear.

“You’ll keep the dress on,” he said. “Will you?”

“Of course,” you obliged. “If that’s what you want.”

“Good girl,” he said, and he pulled aside your panties to slide his finger over the slickness that had formed between your thighs. As if on command, your hips moved closer to his hand as you whimpered at the too gentle friction. All afternoon you had been thinking of his hands on you. When you had watched him peel away the tape from the boxes, when he was taking your hand to help you down from the ladder and when he had run his fingers through his hair absentmindedly – all you could think about was how much you wanted those hands to grab your hips and for him to have his way with you.

“Take these off,” he ordered. His stern but gentle voice turned your insides into mush. It made you behave almost like a robot, no ifs ands or buts. When you usually liked to tease him, you knew not to test your limits when he spoke in this tone. Your underwear dropped to the floor and you kicked it a few meters away. Again, his hands ghosted under your dress and found your center. You felt like your knees would buckle from the way he rubbed small circles on your clit. Moaning quietly, you wrapped your arms around his neck for support, leaning your forehead against his chest for a moment. You let out small huffs and whimpers against his skin and nuzzled especially close to him when he touched that one special spot for a few seconds.

“Look at me.” He watched intently as your eyelids fluttered like your eyes were going to roll to the back of your head. You tried your best.

“Put your hands on the table by your sides,” he said. You hummed in disapproval but didn’t dare say so. After all, he could have also told you to put them on your back. And holding on to a wooden edge was still better than not holding on to anything, when you felt like a child standing on its feet for the first time. When he hooked his free hand under your thigh, lifting up your leg a little, your grip on the table tightened. You swore under your breath when he plunged two of his fingers into you. He curled them, pushing hard against your sweet spot and you curled your back in response.

All day you had gone without any sort of attention, when your head had been so full of things you knew you could do with him. The most release you had gotten – which was basically no release at all – was from pushing your legs together tightly when the dirty thoughts had become too much for your brain to handle. You knew it was your own fault for setting yourself up with this challenge. But now with your chest heaving and your head feeling like a tsunami of emotions was raging inside of it, you didn’t regret it as much as you thought you would two hours ago. Maybe you should play this waiting game more often, instead of jumping onto each other any chance you got.

“You look so hot like this,” he said. At the sound of his voice your eyes opened. Those eyes. While they usually held loyalty and playfulness, they now only spoke of authority. He used his thumb to rub your clit whilst his fingers were still inside of you, making you feel like floating. You were his favorite sight, by far. Above all times he watched you, from waking up in the morning to falling asleep in his arms at night, right now was the most mesmerizing. Your parted lips were the entrance to heaven and the glow in your teary, desperate eyes was putting the evening sun to shame.

“I’m so close,” you moaned. Your chest was alternating between short puffs and not breathing at all. Maybe your brain was too focused on the bliss you were chasing to care about breathing for now. You couldn’t blame yourself.

“Don’t make a mess, baby,” he said.

“No, I won’t,” you said. “Can I touch you when I come, please?”

You gave him your most entreating eyes, knowing that even though he liked telling you what to do in the bedroom, not even the strictest boyfriend was immune to your puppy eyes. You suspected that if he had declined, you might have held on to him anyways. Too overpowering was the clamor inside your head that was telling you to be close to him.

“Only when you’re coming,” he said. “Not a second earlier.”

You nodded obediently as your eyes shut again. Good thing you were mere moments away from just that. His fingers moved quickly, now that he knew how close you were to your high. It robbed your breath all at once. And it did the job, after a short while. You whined and arched your back, your hands flinging around his shoulders. Your little noises came out muffled against his skin as you closed your legs around his hand. He barely moved his fingers anymore, but kept the pressure on your most sensitive spots, making sure you could relish in every last second of your orgasm. Only after a while your grip on him loosened, and you realized how your nails had been digging into his skin.

“Sorry,” you said, rubbing over the moon-shaped marks on his shoulder. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, baby,” he said. When he removed his hand, you shuddered one last time, but missed his touch already. His magic was always working on you. Even when he had just made you come, the mere sight of the bulge in his pants, ready to spring free, made you want to pull him right into your body again.

“You came so fast today,” he said. Softly, he kissed you, but you noticed the hint of hunger that he must had been feeling as you were coming down from your high.

“That’s what you do to me,” you admitted. “Do you think you’re the only one who felt tortured all day long? It was driving me crazy, too.”

“You seemed to have a lot of fun, messing with my head,” he said, smirking.

“You’ll find that it was worth it, after this,” you said. He raised his eyebrows in question. You were already stepping forward, dropping to your knees in front of him. Like a child on Christmas morning, his eyes lit up at the sight of you.

“Aren’t you the prettiest maid?” he asked, the question obviously rhetorical. To him, you were the prettiest person in the whole universe. You tugged on his pants and pulled them down, along with his underwear. Your mouth watered at the sight of his member, hard and red from all the waiting he’d had to endure. The way he looked at you from above made you feel small, but he stroked your hair out of your face gently and you knew this was exactly where you wanted to be right now, and any other day.

“Hands behind your back,” he said. You smiled and did as he said, holding your right wrist with your left hand on your back. He caught on to your reaction right away.

“You don’t even mind, right?” he said. You were already sitting straight, mouth open, your tongue protruding slightly. “You like it when I make it more difficult for you, don’t you?”

You only nodded and hummed a small yes, then he placed the tip of his dick on your tongue. At first, you only closed your mouth around it, not taking more of him. Your tongue licked over the swollen tip almost shyly. He groaned as he watched you test the waters. After all, he was the one who could control what you did to him. For now, however, he seemed to leave you your freedom to do what you felt like. You pressed your tongue flat against the underside of his cock, licking over the tip ever so slowly. Then, you sunk your mouth further onto his length, taking as much as you could. It was so quiet you only noticed his uneven breathing as he eyed you from above.

“Shit, you’re so good for me,” he said. “Now stop with the teasing, will you? You know what happens if you don’t.”

You knew exactly. And so you shifted from your slow movements to quicker ones. You made sure to keep your tongue on him, especially when you moved your head away, swirling it around the tip now and then. His moans were music to your ears and only motivated you further. You had always loved his voice, when you sang to the song on the car radio or hummed his latest favorite song under the shower. But nothing compared to the way his voice sounded when you sucked him off. He seemed to be the most unrestrained then, not caring who heard him because he was way to obsessed with you sitting by his feet. The way he looked at you then made your stomach turn in pleasure. He didn’t even need to say anything or touch you. His overseeing eyes alone made you want him more than anything else.

His fingers in your hair curled, pushing your head further down on him. You focused on not gagging, your eyes closing. Tears brimmed behind your eyelids, but you were determined not to let them fall. Instead, you opened your lips a little wider and stuck your tongue out to make it easier for him to use your mouth however he desired.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, sighing in relief. You were awaiting treatment a lot rougher than the one he gave you, though. He thrusted into your mouth rather slowly, giving you enough of a break to remember to breathe. When you looked up at him with your sweetest eyes possible, his expression was a mix of strain and pleasure. You suspected he was trying not to overdo it just yet.

“Baby…can I fuck you or is that too much for you?” he asked. You perked up at his request. When you started humming around his length, he pulled away to let you speak.

“Please,” you said. “Fuck me. On the table.”

“Alright, my baby’s making the rules now, is she?” he said. “Come here.”

“I thought that’s where you wanted me to remember you, wasn’t it?” you asked, getting up.

“You’re right,” he said. You sat down on the edge of the office table with your legs parted for him to stand between them. Just once he kissed you. You wanted him to hurry, so you linked your heels behind his back, pulling him closer.

“Take me like a good girl.” He ran his cock over your slick folds, and he groaned when he felt your warmth on him. In response you nodded willingly, unable to wait a second more for him. Luckily, he didn’t plan on dragging out the anticipation any longer. With ease he slid into you, finding a familiar rhythm right away. As if you hadn’t just come ten minutes ago, you whimpered pathetically at the satisfaction. You leaned your weight onto your hands behind you, watching his cock enter you over and over. There was no limit to how many times you could have him inside of you. Every time it felt the same. Like he was completing you, all whilst simultaneously ruining you. His thrusts were sharp and as you raised your legs and changed the angle slightly, your eyes rolled back for a moment.

“Harder,” you asked, even though you were already overwhelmed.

“You want more?” he asked. You hummed a yes and nodded quickly. His grip on your waist tightened as he pulled you closer to the edge of the table. He didn’t disappoint. He never did. Swiftly, he pushed your legs further open and pounded into you, making your body shake every time his hips slapped against yours. It drove you borderline mad. A part of your brain urged you to praise him, to let him know what he was doing to you. But then, those unspoken words between you were inconsequential. You didn’t need to tell him how good he was. He could read it in every part of your body. He saw it in the arch of your back, in your curled toes and in your lip that was captured between your teeth. He heard it in the way you moaned and said his name like he was your savior.

Plus, you would tell him all about it afterward. But that wasn’t what your mind was focused on momentarily. It was the way he hit your sweet spot every time and you could barely breathe normally amidst your whimpers. You hadn’t even introduced yourself to all your neighbors yet, but they most certainly had taken notice of your arrival in the new apartment.

“Can you use your hands for me?” he asked. “Show me touching yourself, baby.”

His words and the look of dominance in his eyes was all it took, and without second thought your hands went to your center. You sucked in a breath at the added pleasure. It was almost too much at first, but then you let it all in. Like a wave was crashing over you, your eyes closed, and you hummed from the intensity.

“That’s it. Make yourself come again,” he said. “You can do it again.”

“Yes,” you said, almost breathed with the weakest voice. Your body had other things to focus on at that moment, letting your vocal chords do whatever they felt like. You clenched your walls around him and the knot in your stomach tightened with every little circle you drew on your clit. His usually tender eyes were everything but that as he watched you revel in the pleasure.

“So fucking hot,” he groaned. You tried hard to uphold eye-contact through fluttering eyelids and furrowed brows. “Good girl, keep going. Tell me when you’re coming.”

You hummed a yes as one of his hands cupped the side of your neck, the other remaining on your hips so he could push your body against his own with every thrust. After all this time of being with him you knew what it meant when his moans became higher pitched and he seemed to not realize his mean grip on your skin – not that you minded. You loved seeing the marks he left on you, especially when you had nowhere to be the next days. It always made him hungry, when he saw the dark spots on your skin, like a fading memory of what you had done.

A curse fell from his perfect lips and his thrusts turned sloppy as he came inside of you. His face, all twisted in bliss and from exhaustion, was all you needed.

“Stay inside of me. Just for a little while, please,” you plead, fingers on your clit rubbing at the quickest speed you could muster. “I’ll come if you stay.”

“I’m right here,” he said, slowing his actions until he was just filling you up, but now moving anymore. “It’s okay. Come for me.”

Just having him there, stretching out your walls and making you feel so close to him was all you really needed. And his words of affirmation sent you over the edge in no time. It was a toe-curling, mind-bending surge that overcame you at your release. Stars danced delightfully behind your closed eyelids while you tried to process all of it. He gripped your hand that was touching your clit and pressed it down, urging you to go on for a little while longer. You whined in sensitivity, feeling like your legs would give in, even though you were already sitting down. For just another while, he dragged out your orgasm as you struggled to control your overwhelmed senses. He distracted you by bending forward and letting his lips graze yours.

“You did so good,” he said. “My pretty maid.”

You whimpered and then sighed when he finally lifted your hand away from between your legs. Only then you could scrape together some words.

“We both did good today,” you grinned. “And I mean not only the last half hour.”

“Agreed,” he said. “Tomorrow we could tackle those last boxes in the kitchen. What do you think?”

“Can the maid outfit make another appearance?” you asked.

“I was hoping it might,” he said, kissing you softly. Your tired limbs and mind welcomed his gentleness as your hands went to his hair. You could already guess how the next day would go, then. But truth be told, you didn’t mind it one bit.

[five-rivers]

Pennywort and Swallowtails

For @phantomphangphucker :)

Prompt:  Flynn, due to being Phantom’s aka the Ghost King’s family and part of the Zone’s society, receives a Prince title and is now getting crowned.

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Flynn couldn’t put his finger on exactly why, but the Ghost Zone seemed different lately.  There was something in the atmosphere, almost.  It felt… lighter, maybe?  

He didn’t like it.  

After all these years in the Ghost Zone, he’d come to regard any change from the norm with suspicion.  The tendency had saved his life multiple times.  Usually, such changes were caused by a nearby and powerful ghost.  Or, on rare and terrifying occasions, a not so nearby and obscenely powerful ghost.

For example, that Pariah Dark guy he’d heard about from some of the ghosts he traded with.  Flynn sure was glad someone else had taken care of him.  Not that Flynn was much good in a fight against any ghost more powerful than that annoying one in overalls that showed up whenever Flynn so much as thought of making anything even vaguely box-shaped.

Which wasn’t that often.  Flynn had never really nailed the whole carpentry thing. Ha.  He’d never been super great at the whole square thing either. Because he wasn’t one.  Skipped school and everything.  The whole high school experience.  Ha.  

Sometimes he really cracked himself up, but only in the most depressing of ways.  

He sighed, heavily.  Maybe he should think about spending more time in his hideaway cave, under his cottage (aka his shack, it was a shack, who was he kidding).  Stock up on supplies.  Get ready to weather a storm.  Literal or metaphorical.  

But hiding out in the cave was so boring.  There wasn’t anything to do down there. Except try to design better grass shoes and to patch his increasingly ragged clothing with limited amounts of thread. He preferred being outside greatly. Even if it was just on his little floating island, messing around in his little garden, growing potatoes and blood blossoms, digging for those crystals ghosts seemed to fear and desire in equal measure.

Flynn was peripherally aware that he was supplying the ghosts he traded with the equivalent of ghost uranium (one of the few human-world things he’d picked up was a middle school science textbook), but…

Yeah.  Guy had to eat, and the Ghost Zone didn’t exactly have cops running all over the place, or the United Nations, or… yeah.  Honestly, the Ghost Zone didn’t have much of anything, at least not in these parts.  It was pretty empty around here.  

Just like Flynn’s heart.  

Ha.  

Yeah.  That was a good one.  

Eh.  Life wasn’t so bad.  He was sort-of-kind-of friends with half a dozen undead monsters of questionable morality, had his own house, most of his teeth, and copious free time.  Plus, it had been a while since the ‘rocks from nowhere’ decided to trash his roof.  Which was bad for the sport he had invented (Chucking Rocks into the Misty Void), but good for roof integrity.  And not having a concussion.  Or losing any more teeth.  

But, back to his original topic.  

Flynn glared absently at the Zone at large. Okay, yeah, something was going on. Was it Flynn’s problem? Maybe.  Was it directly Flynn’s problem?  No.  The day was otherwise clear and ‘normal’ (the term being used loosely in the Ghost Zone), so he might as well go about his day—

The sky tore open in front of him.  

Flynn recognized that.  Before he knew what he was doing, he threw himself away from the portal. The last time he’d stepped through one of those—

The thought crossed his mind that this portal might lead back to Earth, back home, back to Mom.  But he knew from his ghostly friends how unlikely it was that the portal would put him anywhere near his home physically, not to mention temporally. It might not even lead back to Earth for that matter.  

He took cover behind a boulder, cursing his blasé dismissal of potential danger.  Who knew what could come out of a portal?  At least according to the ghosts he talked to.  Hopefully, nothing came out that he couldn’t beat into submission with his ectoranium staff.  

This was going to suck so much.  

The portal disgorged three floating eyeball ghosts in voluminous robes.

(One of the other books Flynn had gotten his hands on was a dictionary.  Which he had read.  Twice. Living on a tiny floating island was boring when it wasn’t terrifying.)

Ah, heck.  He could take one ghost.  Three? Yeah.  Not a chance.  

Maybe they’d leave?  They couldn’t know for sure he was here.  With how unpredictable portals were, and all.

“Flynn Walker,” intoned the central eyeball ghost with a great deal of gravitas.  

Flynn’s body did something between a cringe and a blanch.  

He was never trusting Globithar the Lapidarist’s tall tales ever again.  He wasn’t going to give him any more discounts for them, either.  No way to control a portal his scarred left butt cheek.  

“Flynn Walker,” repeated the eyeball ghost, now with a touch of annoyance.  

“In accordance with the laws of the Infinite Realms,” said the leftmost ghost, in a higher-pitched voice, “we call you to take up your position in the Court of the King of All Ghosts as a member of his family.”

Ah, that ectocontamination Aunt Maddie had sometimes talked about had finally caught up with him, and he was hallucinating something fierce. Either that, or these ghosts thought unbelievable jokes were good bait.  They weren’t.  Flynn would know.  He’d made many unbelievable jokes.  They’d never attracted anything but groans.  

Ha.  

“This is ridiculous,” hissed the third ghost.  “He isn’t even a real ghost.”

“He’s more ghostly than Phantom’s sister,” said the second.  

“We don’t have any choice about her, though.  Can’t we simply… not tell Phantom about this Flynn? Especially if this cousin of his is so craven as to hide at a moment like this.”

Rude, but accurate.  

“He’ll find out,” said the first eyeball, tiredly. “He always finds out.  Damn Clockwork.”

This was officially too weird for Flynn.  Why were they cursing out clocks?

“Because they’re petty and don’t have anything better to do.”

Flynn may or may not have shrieked like a little girl at the voice behind him.  The uncertainty was mostly because Flynn hadn’t seen or heard a little girl since he was in the vicinity of his cousin, Jazz, which was years ago.  At least a decade.  

But he did scream.  Loudly.  Which he really should know better than to do, living in the Ghost Zone and all.  He brought his staff up defensively, too, though, so his self-preservation skills hadn’t completely shorted out.

“Clockwork!” chorused the eyeball ghosts.  

“Yes, yes,” said the ghost who’d snuck up on Flynn, flicking imaginary dust off his robe as he smoothly, and dizzyingly, shifted between ages.  “I’m sure you’re all very shocked that I’m here, after you just finished complaining about how much I know.”  He examined his fingernails.  “Now, Mr. Walker—”

“Walker?” shrieked one of the eyeballs.  

“Yes, he is related to our illustrious sheriff. As I was saying, I am here to bring you to your cousins, who have risen quite a bit in this world.”

“What.”

“It is, indeed, rather surprising,” said Clockwork. “To those who cannot see the twists and turns of fate.  Or those who are willfully blind to those twists and turns.”  He eyed the eyeballs.  

“What,” repeated Flynn, more forcefully.  

“Clockwork,” growled the lead eyeball.  

“Allow me to explain,” said Clockwork.  “Do you recall your youngest cousin, Daniel?”

“Uh,” said Flynn.  He adjusted his grip on his staff.  “Vaguely?”

“He was crowned King of All Ghosts a few weeks ago. As a member of his family and an active participant in ghost society, you are automatically a member of the court. Assuming you wish to be, of course.”

“You- You’re saying I have family here.”

“Indeed.”

“Like, Aunt Maddie?”

Something odd passed over Clockwork’s face.  “No.  Your cousins. Daniel, specifically.”

“Wait, wait, he was a baby.  Wouldn’t he only be, like, ten or something?”

“Fifteen,” corrected Clockwork.  

“How did he die?”

“You will have to ask him that,” said Clockwork.  He raised an eyebrow.  “If you would like, you can sleep on this and I will return tomorrow.”

Flynn bit his lip.  Hard.  Okay. He wasn’t dreaming.  And- And this ghost didn’t seem to be lying. What would the point of that even be, anyway?  Flynn was nothing.  He didn’t have anything they could possibly gain by lying like this.  

“I’ll go with you,” said Flynn.  

“Excellent,” said Clockwork, clapping his hands.  “Then let us away to the castle.”

.

Well.  That was certainly a castle.  Or a palace? Flynn wasn’t sure of the difference. The ghosts hadn’t lied about that, at least.  

It was a big step up from Flynn’s house.  Which, honestly, more deserved the title of hovel. Or perhaps shack.  

Or even hole, when compared to all this.  Dear god, this place was fancy.  

Flynn hunched his shoulders, feeling out of place even as Clockwork led him deeper into the massive edifice.  

Come on, Flynn, he thought furiously at himself. Some of these people aren’t even wearing skin.  You are not underdressed.  

Clockwork brought him to a normally sized (which was, incidentally, not a given in this place, which contained both huge and tiny doors) door with understated but elegant carvings.  “Here are your rooms,” said the ghost.  “You will find a selection of clothing in your size in the wardrobe, and the bathroom is fully stocked and human safe.”

“Human safe?”

“Human safe.”

That was ominous.  

“There is a bell in the room that will summon a servant should you need one.  I will collect you for dinner in three hours.  Long enough for you to relax, I should hope.”

Or long enough for him to worry himself into pieces and chew on their curtains.  

… There would be curtains, right?  This place had to be fancy enough to rate curtains.  

He opened the door.  

Lots of curtains.  Lovely.

No, really.  It had been so, so long since he’d seen curtains.  He might be crying.  

Oh, gosh, that bed looked so nice and soft.  He wanted to—

Wait, no, he was filthy.  Filthy.  Covered in years’ worth of grime.  He hadn’t had a proper bath since he’d still been living with his mom.  

Pathetic, right?

There was a human-safe bathroom in here somewhere. Beyond the snark, he was looking forward to having a human-safe bath.  He was craving a human-safe bath.  With clean water and soap.  

Could the bathroom also have toothbrushes?  Toothpaste?  Unrestrained luxury.  

The bathroom door was in the same style as the outer door, but the handle was different, lighter.  The inside was tiled and surprisingly modern.  

There was a sink.  

He played with the sink faucet for several long minutes before remembering that he’d come in to take a bath.  

He spent several minutes playing with the bathtub faucet.  

Then he got into the bathtub and experienced a half hour of combined panic (he didn’t really know how baths worked anymore, and the sensations were weird) and nirvana (the sensations were also good).

He had to keep cycling the water.  Because he made it so, so dirty.  He sank into the water, up to his chin.  

When he got out of the water, he decided his hair was a lost cause.  Because it was always a lost cause.  Only, it was even more of a lost cause now, because it was also wet and had been stripped of its usual protective layer of oils.  

There was a variety of toothbrushes and toothpastes available.  He tested them out and discovered that he would probably need the services of a dentist. A good one.  Were there ghost dentists?  There had to be ghost dentists.  They had a lot of teeth.  A lot of teeth.  Sharp, scary, teeth.  

Ugh.  His baby cousin was a ghost.  He’d probably have teeth like a shark.  When he’d last seen him, he’d hardly even had any teeth at all.  Because.  Baby. Little, tiny, baby.  

Who Flynn barely knew.  

Why did he even want Flynn?  Or was it just some weird ghost tradition thing?  

Ghosts were weird.  Anything could be possible.  

He flopped face-first onto the bed.  His bed?  His temporary and maybe permanent bed.  If he was allowed to stay here.  

Oh, gosh.  Clockwork and the eyeballs seemed to know how to make portals.  Could they make a portal back to the human world? To Earth?  

To Flynn’s proper time?

To Mom?  

He missed Mom so much, even after all this time.  

(Dad?  Not so much. He hardly remembered the man.)

He wouldn’t know until he asked, he supposed.  But asking maybe-royalty would be scary. Talking to all these powerful ghosts was scary enough by itself.  

Ehhhh, he thought he’d gotten rid of his more cowardly side by now.  He was living in the scariest place out of the world.  

Ha.  

Yeah.  

He crawled out of the bed, dragging his nice, clean self to the wardrobe.  Oh, boy. Many clothes.  He hadn’t even seen so many clothes since the last time he’d been in department store.  Incredible.  

They were so fancy, too.  He didn’t know how to choose.  

He didn’t even know how to wear half of these things. At least half of them.  

He began to tease lengths of fabric from the wardrobe and lay them on his bed.  Some of them looked cool.  And also the kind of thing that he’d destroy just by touching it.  

Except he had already touched them, and they hadn’t been destroyed yet.  Yet.

Oh, cool, there was underwear.  Wow.  It had been a while.  

.

Okay.  The bed was incredibly nice, but somehow too nice.  Like, no nap nice.  

He wanted to take a nap.  

But no nap was occurring.  

The bed was too soft.  Ugh.  This was like the thing in that one war novel he’d read when he was probably way too young to read it.  

He groaned.  He hadn’t thought that was real.  He’d thought it was an exaggeration, or just drama.  Or something.  

He crawled off onto the floor and the wonderfully plush carpet.  

Maybe he could sleep here.  

.

He woke up to a faint knocking sound and rolled sideways under cover.  What cover? Oh.  Bed.  That was the bed.  He was in the room.  In the castle.  The ghost king’s castle.  

His baby cousin’s castle.  

He was going to cry.  This was so weird.  

Embarrassed, he rolled back out from under the bed and threw on the first clothes that came to hand.  Which.  Might not have been the best of ideas.  But, hey, he was dressed now.  

He stumbled over to the door and spent several long, embarrassing seconds sleepily remembering how to open doors with this type of handle.  Eventually, though, he managed it.

Clockwork was standing there.  One of his eyebrows went up.  “Interesting choice.”

Flynn looked down.  Orange and green went fine together.  What was he talking about?  

Forget it, he wasn’t about to develop a sense of social shame after living in a hut for a decade or so.  

“Come, now.  Your cousins are expecting you.”

Flynn briefly considered ducking out, phasing through the floor and out of the castle using a tangibility trick he’d picked up a couple of years back.  At least, that would spare him from this ‘diner’ he was rapidly approaching.  

He decided not to do that.  Running away wasn’t his style.  

(Who was he kidding?  That was definitely his style.  He would have run away so, so much if he had anywhere to run to.)

(It wasn’t like he could exactly fight ghosts on even footing.  Each and every one of them had Martian Manhunter’s powerset.)

“Don’t be afraid, Flynn,” said Clockwork, looking back over his shoulder.  

“Do you, like, read minds?”

Clockwork chuckled.  “Only the future.”  He swung the large, gilded door open.  

Inside, there was a long table, set with silvery plates.  There were a small group of children beyond it.  One of them waved at him.  Was that Danny?

Flynn took a deep breath and walked forward, back to his family.  

[wicked-mind]

Betrayed: Chapter Four

Summary: Everybody thought Steve’s sister had passed away decades ago. But when you show up at the facility and try to attack Bucky, there are questions to be answered.

Word count: 5.5k

Warning: A bit of violence, talk of kidnapping and torture, talk of surgery, a hint of PTSD

Series Masterlist

All Writings Masterlist

NOTE: I would like to thank everybody for your support. As I previously said, this is the first time posting creative writing on any platform. As a thank you, I’ll be releasing two chapters today (3/19/21). Again, any feedback is appreciated. Enjoy (:

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Chapter Four- I Guess We Can Be Friends

The rest of the team returned finally. A smile returned to Y/N’s face after seeing her brother and Wanda after the week. Steve made sure to get a run down of everything that happened in his absence from Clint and Bucky. Hearing of her nightmares, the voice she heard, and the progress her and Bucky had made. Steve and Bucky both exchanged the word ‘progress’ again with a smile. The chip they had recovered was protected, they couldn’t access the information on it right away, having to do some deep digging.

Steve found his sister chatting with Wanda, filling her in on everything that had happened. Y/N talked to Wanda about her nightmares and how Bucky was the one who woke her from them. She told her friend about how she heard the voice in her head, to which Wanda looked concerned. With Y/N’s permission, she could look to see if there was something else in her head, but she would wait for that until Y/N was ready for that. Steve entered the room with a light knock, smiling at Y/N.

“I’m all caught up on things that happened while we were away.” Steve told his sister, with a small comforting smile, “We recovered your chip still in tact. We are trying to get into it the information on it.”

Y/N nods, then looks at Wanda, “I need you to do it. Look in my mind and see if there is someone else.” She said, to which Steve and Wanda both looked shocked, “Please Wanda, I can’t sit here and wait to see if he starts whispering again. I have to know if it is real or if it’s me slowly going insane.” She whispered the last part.

“Don’t you think we should wait for a little bit? At least until we see the information on the chip?” Steve asked, concern in his voice. He didn’t want to push his sister into anything that could more damage her fragile state.

Y/N looked from her brother to Wanda, nodding, “Do it.” She demanded.

They gathered in the medical bay, allowing Y/N to lay on one of the beds. Wanda positioned herself behind her friend’s head, looking to her for permission. Y/N nodded and closed her eyes. The whole team watched closely, besides Natasha who had already left to go to the prison. Bucky and Steve had concerned looks on their face about this. Wanda positioned her hands on either side of Y/N’s head, red glowing from her fingers. For a moment, it was silent as Wanda searched, before she drops her hand, looking up to Steve with wide eyes, “There’s someone in there.. I can’t tell who but he is definitely the cause of the whispers. It’s has the same energy as Y/N, but it’s darker, stronger.” Wanda said gently, then looking at Y/N’s face. For a moment, Y/N looked relieved that she wasn’t going insane or being haunted by ghosts. But then worry came across her face as she realized something else was pulling strings in her head.

Bucky shifted uncomfortably on his feet, feeling useless. He couldn’t protect Y/N from the voice in her mind. He had the instincts to protect Y/N from anything and everything. He was determined to find this owner of this voice in her head, make it stop.

“We will wait to see what Natasha figures out.” Steve broke the silence, walking over and helping his sister up from the table. He looked down at her and offered a smile, to which one was returned up to him.

When Natasha was able to get into the information on the chip, she gathered the team to share her findings. She waited for them all to be seated around the circular table before beginning, “The chip showed what Y/N told us. It was used to send direct orders to her no matter where she was in the world. We are still working on downloading the information of where she went and what she did.” Natasha paused, “It also had a second function. It was blocking out some other transmission to her brain. I would guess it was keeping away the whispers that Y/N is now hearing. We aren’t sure what is causing the whispers or why it was important for Hydra to keep them out.” She paused, before looking at the rest of the team, “We don’t know how dangerous these whispers are. There was a reason Hydra wanted them blocked out. They could pose an immediate threat. The safest option would be to keep Y/N in the detention center until we know more.”

Y/N had snuck to listen outside the room. She was very quiet, and could get away very quickly if necessary. She, after all, was trained for things like sneaking around and gathering information without being seen, among other things.

The room fell silent as the team processed what Natasha was proposing to them, “We can’t do that to her.” Steve told the team, “She hasn’t been a threat to any of us since the first night. If we put her in one of the detention cells, it’ll show we don’t trust her and think she’s dangerous. Y/N is just trying to get back on her feet. She doesn’t want to hurt any of us.”

“I don’t trust her. That’s the issue.” Natasha countered, “If those whispers are dangerous, she can snap at anytime and turn on any of us. If she bites one of us and flees, that’s the end of it. Someone will die. We have to take necessary precautions.”

Bucky glared at Natasha for this idea, his jaw clenched, “You can’t do that to Y/N.” He repeated Steve’s words, “She dug herself out of a grave she was meant to stay in, took the chip out, and found us for help. She just wanted to see her brother again.” He said, “She attacked me for a reason. I have forgiven her. She’s not a threat unless we treat her like one or give her a reason to feel threatened.” He paused, taking in a deep breath, eyeing everybody else in the meeting, “If we force her into a cell, we are no better than how Hydra forced her into that coffin. She will break down as it reminds her of the things she went through. You break that trust, we won’t get it back. Any of us.” He said, looking to Steve, then Clint, and to Wanda who was nodding her head in agreement.

Wanda cleared her throat before speaking, drawing the attention to herself, “Y/N is not a current threat to anybody. I’ve seen in her mind, but more importantly I’ve spent almost every day with her. She just wants to live and be happy. Her mind is full of good. She’s a good person of which horrific things have happened to. Y/N doesn’t deserve to be punished for something she hasn’t done yet. I can keep an eye on her mental state, let us have an early warning if the whispers come back stronger.” Wanda watched the others as they slowly nodded in agreement to what she was saying.

“I have part of a solution.” Clint finally spoke, his arms crossed as he sat in his chair leaning back, “She doesn’t pose a threat now. I’ve trained with her more than anybody, she knows how to hold back. She has self control. But, just in case, why don’t we keep some of her blood in stock in case she does snap and bites one of us?”

Steve nodded, “I think that’s the best idea. We will get her to donate some blood to us for emergencies. She will understand and want to help. She doesn’t want to hurt any of us, she will want us to have the cure.” He looked at Bucky for a moment, before looking to Natasha who shook her head, knowing she was out numbered, “For now, we keep an eye on her. Help her. If something happens, we will discuss it.” He said in a tone that everybody knew meant the conversation about locking Y/N away was over. He sighs, slowly standing, “On another note, the annual fundraising gala is tomorrow. Everybody pick a charity of your choice before the party.” Natasha folded her arms, looking at Steve, “You really think the gala is the best idea right now?”

“Of course. We have been walking on eggshells for six months, putting all our focus on unraveling this mystery. We need a break. Thor is already coming in, and the guests have already sent in their RSVP. They’re expecting it. ” He said, knowing he was just irritating and pushing the limits with Nat, who had now exited the room in a hurry, “I guess that concludes our meeting.”

Y/N listened, she took a deep breath, then started chewing on her bottom lip. When they started speaking of the gala, she left. She knew when her brother used that tone it was end of discussion with her situation. She swiftly made it back to her room, sitting on her bed, pulling a magazine onto her lap. She just flicked the pages, not reading it at all. She was thinking about what was said in the team’s discussion. What Natasha said, about locking her away. Maybe that was for the best, she didn’t want to be a threat. She didn’t want to hurt anyone else. But listening to what Steve and Bucky said, they were right. The way Bucky talked about how she would break, he was right. She couldn’t keep herself under control if she was locked away, isolated. It would just be more proof that she was who she thought she was, a hopeless killer.

Y/N heard Wanda approaching and focused back on reading the magazine. Wanda came in beaming with a smile, “Up, up, up, get up!” She said, pulling Y/N by her hands to her feet.

Y/N smiled and laughed, letting her pull her to her feet, “What are we doing now?” She asked, happy to have a best friend like Wanda. She brought joy into Y/N’s life, someone she can be herself around.

“We are going shopping, where’s your shoes?” Wanda said as she searched around the room before throwing the black combat boots at Y/N, how caught them with ease, “The gala is tomorrow and we need to find some dresses.”

Y/N put her shoes on quickly, excited to go out and spend the day with Wanda shopping. She hadn’t got to leave the facility that much, she was excited to see what the world offered her today. Plus it would be nice to get her mind off of what she learned listening to the meeting.The two walked out the front of the facility, Wanda spinning the car keys in her hand. Y/N looked back at the facility, seeing Natasha watching her through the window, before getting in the black BMW with Wanda, “What’s Nat’s issue today?” She asked, curious of what the reply would be.

Wanda waved her hand as if to say forget about it, “Oh don’t worry, that’s just her face. She has RBF. Some days it flares up more than others.” She joked, putting the key in the ignition and speeding down the driveway towards town. On their dress mission, they talked about things. Wanda asked Y/N to tell her if she started hearing whispers again, that it was very important to let her know to which Y/N nodded, promising her best friend. Then they talked about something Wanda always wanted to talk about. Bucky. Wanda knew Y/N’s feelings about him, the good and the bad ones. Lately the better ones have been taking over and replacing those bad memories. Wanda was determined to help replace those memories, for Y/N’s sake and Bucky’s. She knew Bucky still had strong feelings for Y/N, it was hard not to keep out his thoughts when they screamed so loudly for Y/N. And she also knew that Y/N still had those lovey-dovey feelings for Bucky, just maybe a litter deeper down.

THE NEXT NIGHT

Wanda was helping Y/N get ready for the gala, already done getting herself ready. This was Wanda’s favorite event the team held. They got to dress up all fancy and let loose in their own home. There was no shop talk, just fun. Wanda slowly ran the curling iron through Y/N’s blonde hair, curling the ends perfectly so they would bounce as she walked. Wanda was already dressed and ready. As she finished up Y/N’s hair, she smiled, placing the curling iron down, “Don’t touch that.” She warns, not wanting her friend to get burned. Y/N nodded, looking at herself in the mirror. She was all dolled up for this event.

Wanda smiled, putting on her heels, “I’ll meet you out there.” She said, heading for the door, before looking back at Y/N who was still looking at herself in the mirror, “C’mon Y/N, get dressed. Chop chop!” She said and then disappeared out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

Y/N tore her eyes away from herself. Her eyelashes were darkened with mascara and her lips were red from a lipstick she borrowed from Wanda. She looked very similar to how she did when she was taken by Bucky. She had curled her hair, put on red lipstick, excited to meet him for their date that never happened. The memory was painful, but she thought about the things Bucky had done for her. He was patient, kind. He helped her through break-downs. He said all the right things. He was being the Bucky she remembered and wanted. She decided she would be open to giving him another chance, being more accepting of him. The only way she would know for sure is if she let him in a little bit. She slowly stood, walking over to the closet and pulling her dress out. Wanda had helped pick it out. Y/N was a little reluctant, the style of dresses had changed since the last time she had worn one. When did they become so revealing? Y/N slipped off the robe she was wearing to get ready, placing it on her bed. She slipped the black dress on. It fit her curves perfectly, although maybe a little tight, “God how do people breathe in these.” She said, flattening out the scrunched lines as she walked in front of the mirror. The dress was jet black, flowing to the floor. There was a slit up the side to show off her pale leg, a little too high if you asked Y/N but Wanda assured her it was the style. It had sleeves that draped over her arms, a small dip in the front but not too revealing. She lifted her hand to her shoulders, her fingers brushing against the silver scars from a past life. She didn’t remember how she got the ones that looked like bites, but there were many of them that were hidden by the view of this dress. She slipped on her black heels, wishing she could just wear her boots. But Y/N knew Wanda would just drag her back to the room to put the shoes on. Y/N gave herself one final glance in the mirror. The dress was beautiful, she was beautiful. Even with the red eyes that seemed to glow. She turned and made her way out of her room and to where the party was being held.

As she entered, Wanda immediately was at her side, handing her a glass of dark wine which Y/N accepted immediately, taking a small sip. The lounge was decorated beautifully and filled with people who were all dressed up also. Steve was sitting at the bar with Bucky and Sam, laughing. He noticed his sister’s arrival and quickly walked over to greet her.

“You look beautiful, Y/N.” Steve said, giving her a quick hug, “I’m glad you decided to come. It’ll be fun.” He promised.

“Yeah I didn’t get to really decide.” Y/N laughed, looking at Wanda, “I’m pretty sure she would’ve dragged me down here, I figured it was easier to come willingly.”

Steve chuckled, giving Wanda a thankful smile, “It’ll be great, don’t worry about anything. Tonight is all about fun.” He said, placing an encouraging hand on his sister’s shoulder, before getting pulled away by some men who seemed excited to have a conversation with the Captain America. Steve figured a Y/N needed some fun. It had been all serious since she came back that she hasn’t really gotten to live.

Y/N and Wanda walked around, introducing themselves to guests and sharing stories. Well, Wanda was doing the sharing. Y/N didn’t have any stories to share, just listened and laughed as she met all the new people. All of them were very nice, and not too intrusive.

Bucky had noticed Y/N as soon as she walked in. He about spit up his drink by how beautiful she looked. He wondered if this is what she would’ve looked like for their date that never happened. It made his heart jump thinking about it. He watched Steve go up to her, a little jealous that he was just able to approach her so easily. He watched her throughout the night, staying at the bar. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. Y/N was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. He watched her laugh, envying the wine glass she kept bringing to her lips. It reminded him of the one kiss they shared. He cherished that memory of them. Her lips were so soft against his. He wanted that feeling again but knew it was out of his grasp.

At some point, Bucky lost track of Y/N in the crowd. His eyes scanned all the faces in the room, looking for her. He stood up when he saw she wasn’t with Wanda. They had been together the whole night, but now they weren’t. He pushed through people, apologizing and saying excuse me as he searched for Y/N, before turning to look out a window. She was standing out on the lawn alone, her head tilted up to the sky. He immediately made his way out there, wanting to make sure she was alright. He shut the door quietly and approached Y/N, smiling.

“Y/N?” He said, wanting to give her a heads up he was approaching, “Everything alright?” He asked as he stood beside her.

“Oh, hi. Yeah, sorry, I’m fine.” She said, looking over to him with her red eyes. She noted how handsome he looked. He was wearing an all black suit, his hands in his pockets. She returned her gaze up to the stars, a soft smile on her red lips, “Just needed some air. I got distracted by the stars. They’re beautiful.”

Bucky kept his eyes on her face, “Yeah.. Beautiful.” He said, not talking about the stars. He examined her face. She was smiling, and her expression was nothing but happiness. He loved seeing her like this- happy. It’s what she deserved.

Y/N looked back to Bucky, noticing he was still staring at her, knowing he wasn’t calling the stars beautiful. She turned towards him, her red eyes meeting his crystal blue ones. She smiled softly, her red lips curving, before she looked down at her almost empty glass of wine, “Buck…” She said softly, as if ashamed, “I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you. And… you know.. biting you,” She gestured towards the scar on his neck, biting her lip before continuing, “I know that wasn’t you. They were in your head like they were in mine.” She was just now realizing it had been god knows how long since she drank and she may be a little tipsy.

Bucky shook his head at her apology, his hand leaving his pocket as he touched her arm, “Hey, don’t. It’s fine. Your last memory of me was taking you to them. I understand. I probably would’ve had the same reaction. It hasn’t changed the way I see or feel about you, darling. I know who you are. You don’t have to apologize for your trauma.” He said softly, smiling at her.

Y/N lifted her head again to meet his gaze. His skin on hers felt almost electric. It made her skin crawl, her hairs standing up. She nodded, her eyes looking around Bucky, anywhere but his face. Hearing him call her ‘darling’ made her body feel warm. She felt like her heart was racing. She finally looked at his face. She could tell he had just cut his hair recently, probably to look nice for the gala. He looked just like the Bucky she knew. When she arrived his hair was longer, but now his hair was shorter, those blue eyes watching her, a small grin on his face. She took a small step towards him, “Since all is forgiven…” Y/N said, her eyes keeping contact with his, “I suppose that means we can be friends.”

Bucky’s grin only widened as she took a step towards him, his eyes never leaving her face. He was observing every move she made. Everything about her was extraordinary. As she spoke the words he had long waited for her to say, he felt as if a weight had been taken off his shoulders, “I would love that.” He replied, “That means we can do friend stuff, right?” He said, talking a small step closer to her, his hand still on her arm, “Like go for coffee, watch movies, have dinner sometime?” He said softly, hoping he wasn’t overstepping with her.

“Hot chocolate,” She corrected, “Not coffee.” She smiles, her eyes watching his as he stepped closer, she bit her lip slightly, her focus moving from his eyes to his lips.

Bucky chuckled at her response, “Hot chocolate with caramel.” He responded, remembering it was her favorite. He knew she didn’t like coffee, but she loved hot chocolate. He was locked onto her eyes that looked at him from underneath her long, dark lashes. He looked at her lips for a moment, wondering if he should move in closer. He felt as if she was giving him all the signals, even flirting back with him. She hadn’t denied him. He leans his face in closer to hers slowly, watching for any reaction, which to his surprise didn’t come.

Instead, a different surprise happened. A flash of light separated the two quickly. When the light faded, Y/N noticed a circle emblem on the ground, but then noticed the man standing in the middle of it. He had short blonde hair, was tall and muscular. He held a large axe in his hand.

“Great timing, Thor. Good to see ya. You’re late.” Bucky said, obviously a little annoyed that the moment between Y/N and himself was ruined.

“Barnes! Good to see you.” Thor replied, placing a pat on Bucky’s back. He was smiling ear to ear, obviously excited about the event, “Who’s your friend?” He said turning to Y/N.

Y/N smiled, “Y/N Rogers.” She said, her red eyes studying him. She had read about him and heard all the stories.

Thor looked at Y/N confused for a moment, “Steve got married? I wasn’t invited?” He said, almost hurt looking.

“No..” Both Y/N and Bucky said at the same time, both laughing a little bit, “I’m his sister.”

Thor looked relieved, before smiling, “Oh yeah, I see the resemblance now. Besides the red eyes, that’s extremely interesting.” He said, point at his own eyes as he talked about hers. Noticing he made her slightly uncomfortable with the comment, he continued, “Well, I better go in and say hello.” He said, walking passed the two and into the party.

Y/N looked back at Bucky, laughing a little at what just happened. It was a little awkward and embarrassing, but the timing was funny to her.

Bucky smiled as she laughed, “So uhm…” He chuckled out, watching her closely, “More wine?” He said, motioning towards the almost empty wine glass still in her hands.

Y/N shook her head, smiling, “Oh no, I’m good. It’s been forever since I’ve had a drink. Tonight I’m a one and done type of girl.” She said, nodding as she told herself this. She was already a little tipsy, she didn’t want to press her luck, “We should head back in though. My feet hurt and there’s some left over pasta in the fridge that’s calling my name.” She said, turning and starting to head back inside. Bucky followed her close behind, smiling to himself. She was treating him like a friend, maybe even more than a friend. She was talking to him like she had growing up. It was exciting to him. It reminded him of a simpler time. He followed her up the stairs to the kitchen in the living quarters, watching as she heated up her food in the microwave. Y/N grabbed a fork, turning to see him still there, “I’m gonna eat this in my room then go to bed.” She said, smiling a little.

Bucky nodded, “I’ll walk you.” He said, even though it was right down the hallway. He wanted to spend as much time as he could with her, just in case this was a dream he was going to wake up from soon. He joined her as they walked down the hall, stopping at her door and opening it for her.

Y/N slipped into the room and placed her food on the desk before turning back to Bucky who was still standing there like a dream, waiting for her. She approached him, smiling, “Thank you.” She said softly, She reached her hand out and touched his arm, still smiling up into his eyes, “Good night, Bucky.”

Bucky grinned at her touch, “Anytime, doll. Good night.” He said happily, accepting the fact this would be the end of their night together, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Tonight was perfect to him. He turned to return back to the party down the stairs. Nothing could bring him down tonight.

Y/N smiled at the pet name, giving his face once last glance, before shutting the door. She smiled to herself. She hadn’t felt like this in a long time. She felt undeniably happy. There was no negativity creeping in at all. She quickly kicked off the heels and changed out of her dress into some sweats and a tank top, hanging the dress back up in her closet. She grabbed her pasta and sat on her bed, turning on the tv. It didn’t take long for her to finish her food, placing the now empty food box in the trash before curling up in bed, falling asleep.

Thor had made his way around saying hello to everybody, before returning back to Steve who was now with Bucky at the bar, “You didn’t tell me you have a sister,” He said to Steve, holding a mug of beer in his hand.

“It never came up.” Steve said, smiling at his friend.

Thor shrugged, “Would’ve been nice to know. The red eyes are very interesting.” He mentioned, taking a large drink of her beer, “Is she otherworldly?”

Steve shook his head, “No, she was a Hydra experiment.” He informed, looking uncomfortable by this conversation.

Thor nodded, taking note of the buttons he seemed to be poking on Steve, “That’s unfortunate, I’m sorry.” He said, placing a comforting hand on Steve’s shoulder, “Oh, and sorry for ruining your moment.” He said to Bucky.

“Moment?” Steve asked, looking from Thor to Bucky, “There was a moment?”

Bucky said silent for a moment, before speaking, “It’s alright, Thor. Y/N and I were just talking.” He said.

Thor looked from Bucky to Steve, “Right… Talking. That’s definitely what I saw.” He said with a smile, “I think I need another.” He said as he looked at his now empty mug, before walking away.

Steve watched Thor leave, before looking around the gala, “Where is Y/N?” he said, realizing he hadn’t seen his sister in a while, and after hearing about the potential ‘moment’ he wanted to make sure she was alright.

“She went to bed, I walked her up.” Bucky said, to which Steve looked at him, eyebrows raised, “She said we could be friends again.” He informed, smiling slightly, though he didn’t get the reaction he was hoping for from his friend.

Steve nodded slightly, “Just friends.” He said. He was never thrilled about the idea of his best friend and sister growing closer. He was Y/N’s brother after all. He knew Bucky was a good man, but he still couldn’t think of them being anything more than friends, “I’ll head up there, be close just in case anything happens.”

“No, I’ll go. Don’t worry, I won’t disturb her.” Bucky said, standing from his seat at the bar, “Besides, you’re in charge of this party. Can’t be leaving. I’ll just sit down the hall until Wanda comes up.” He promised, to which Steve nodded almost reluctantly, still wondering what moment Thor had intruded on. Bucky turned and made his way back up the stairs. Keeping his promise to Steve, he sat outside Y/N’s door in the hallway. He could hear the tv on inside the room, listening as he tried to determine what she had been watching before she fell asleep. He concluded it must be a tv medical show of some sort. After about another hour, Wanda came through the hall, giving a smile towards Bucky with a nod as if to say she had it from here, before disappearing into the room. Bucky stood, watching the door close he caught a glimpse of Y/N sleeping soundly. He smiled, tucking his hands back in his pockets as he made his way back to his own room.

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TAGLIST: @vicmc624 @the-ayo-lit @daddysfavoritesexkitten @springsoulofengland @tcc-gizmachine @taina-eny @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable

[firefly-in-darkness]

Honey

Pairing →  Steve Rogers x Reader

Characters →  Marvel Characters.

Summary → Y/N has her mind set on hooking up with Steve Rogers, the only problem is that they’re in the middle of an Awards Ceremony.

Word Count → 1.6k

Prompt → Don’t Marry Her by Beautiful South for @cockslut-padalecki‘s Not My Ninth Challenge. 

SSB2021 Square Fill → More than Meets the Eye - @star-spangled-bingo

Warnings → 18+. Implied Cheating, Angst, Smut. Swearing.

Betas → @daydream3r-xo & @kalesrebellion // all mistakes are my own.

Firefly’s Masterlist // Star Spangled Bingo 2021

Y/N’s plan was fool proof. Tonight was the night she’d bag Steve Rogers, Captain America, America’s Ass and Golden Boy. Throughout the awards ceremony, she gave him a subtle smile or a seductive drag of her necklace to focus his attention to her exposed decolletage. On occasion, she’d catch the lust-filled glances when she bit down her bottom lip, fingers skimming the plunging neckline of the designer gown.

The intermission between the awards gave her the perfect opportunity to pounce; Steve was standing alone at the bar, his hands in the black slacks as he spoke jovially with the bartender. Gosh, he’s so sweet, Y/N pondered as she circled the beautifully decorated tables full of beaming smiles and chattering guests.

Y/N was ready to strike, only a couple of tables away, when Natasha also joined them at the bar, a wave of guilt seeped into her bones as she watched the redhead fix Steve’s bowtie. It would have been cute if Y/N hadn’t already known about their shared history and battles. 

The fully stocked bar was now calling her name, like a bumblebee seeking out its nectar. Y/N threw all caution to the wind to get something to dull the ache and nerves that crept up her skin. As she ordered her drink, Y/N kept a close eye on the pair, through the mirror at the bar, they were only a few feet away and she didn’t want to bring too much attention to herself.

After a kiss to Steve’s cheek, Natasha left his side to join Clint and Tony at their table. That’s right, Y/N didn’t get to sit with the Avengers, she was just a SHIELD agent after all. She gulped back the fiery bourbon, an attempt to wash away the bitterness from the table arrangements and how the press only wanted to see the team. Not the background lackeys.

“Something on your mind Y/N?” Steve’s voice brought her out of the glare she was boring into the mirror.

“Oh, Captain, I’m sorry. I was a million miles away.” Y/N waved her hand and a coquettishly smile formed on her rouged lips.

“I’ve told you before, please call me Steve.” He gestured to the barstool and Y/N obliged, knees knocking together with his as she took the seat, “I’m not as much of the fuddy-duddy that the team makes me out to be.”

Y/N giggled behind her hand at his choice of words before she straightened up, she couldn’t embarrass herself, this was the perfect moment, “and why are you hiding out over here instead of with your teammates?”

Steve glanced over to the Avengers; hundreds of eyes trained on them, photographers flashing away at each moment and the fans asking for autographs, “Well, I’ll let you into a little secret.”

She bit her lip and leaned closer, her hand resting on his knee. The excitement of being this close and touching Steve almost bubbled over in another giggle.

“I’m not a big fan of all that, and I’m probably going to head out of here soon.” Steve winked at her.

Y/N’s cheeks tingled at his gaze and she couldn’t help the way hers became entranced at the way his tongue poked out and swiped across his bottom lip. Snapping out of the haze, Y/N took to the floor, grabbing her skirt in one hand and Steve’s in the other.

He didn’t stop her but followed her blindly through the doors that the catering staff had entered into the ballroom. Zig zagging through the back rooms before finding a secluded spot. Y/N’s heart hammered in her chest as she tried to regain her breath.

To her surprise, and a small yelp later, Steve pulled open a supply closet door and tugged her in after him, “god, I’ve wanted to do this all night. All week.”

Y/N’s mind raced while Steve pulled her body flush to his in the dark. His cologne took over all her senses and the soft strokes of his fingers against her neck made her preen into the touch. Steve’s mouth crashed down to hers, a heated fray of lips, tongue and teeth as the passion ignited in them both. A few moments later, he pulled away, the pair of them panting in the confined space.

“I think about you all the time,” Steve whispered and nibbled at Y/N’s earlobe.

“Even though you have a fiancé?” Y/N gripped onto his biceps while he ravished her neck, humming in response to her question.

“Especially when she’s just lying there in bed, watching television without any thought for my needs.” Steve peppered kisses against the swell of her breasts. “There’s always an ‘I told you so’ after I do something rash.”

 Y/N quivered under his touch, all excitement pooling at her core, “He never listens.”

“Don’t go back to him.” Steve demanded.

“Don’t marry her.” She countered.

In a swift motion, Steve had pulled up her skirt, and lifted Y/N, hooking her legs around his hips. Steve’s hardened length underneath the soft material of his slacks pressed to her core, moans dripped from the lips that had attached to his neck.

Y/N’s kisses led to a confession, “I can’t forget that night when we had that mission in San Francisco Bay. It was perfect.”

“Oh, honey, I’d never forget,” Steve growled against Y/N’s sternum. 

“That’s a new pet name, honey.” She whimpered.

Before Steve could unzip his pants, they heard a knock. Y/N and Steve instantly pulled away and looked at one another in the near darkness. Then a third knock followed by a continuous wrap of knuckles.

The door was yanked open wide to an exasperated Tony Stark and Sam Wilson glaring at them both before the door was slammed shut in shock by Tony. It didn’t close, only opened up again, showing their widened eyes at the compromising position they had caught Y/N and Steve in. 

The door finally pulled to a close, a line of light from the way it hadn’t clicked shut. The pair gave each other sheepish smiles but didn’t move. How were they going to explain what was going on? That they were making out, on the verge of having sex in a cupboard.

A light knock on the door was followed by Sam’s muffled voice, “I think you’d better come out now.”

A blush had formed on Steve’s cheeks, a red tinge crept its way down his neck and the space Y/N had created from yanking apart his tie and collar. Fear was evident in Steve’s eyes, but there was still a mischievous glint in the dilated blues.

Y/N’s eyes widened in panic, knowing that she would look as equally dishevelled, if not more. Lipstick was smeared around her mouth and her hair no longer neatly tucked into the intricately pinned updo. Teeth dug into her bottom lip as she straightened Steve’s tie and smoothed down the evening gown, luckily unwrinkled.

Tentatively, she pushed down the handle and opened the door to the cleaning supply cupboard and met the disappointed brown eyes and folded arms of Sam Wilson. Steve followed behind, his hands on her waist before dropping at the sight of Sam’s glare now directed at him. Both felt like naughty school children, and they should really because what they were doing was wrong and they’d been caught out. 

“You better start explaining what the hell is going on right now.” Sam scolded, his stare unwavering from the pair. “Steve, you’re engaged for Christ's sake.”

Y/N went to speak but clammed up, opening, and closing her mouth. Guilt at being caught gnawed away at her stomach, while she focused on the floor and not looking at Steve or her superiors.

“Well, are you going to explain yourselves?” Tony looked between them, disappointment evident in his tone. “Now that your scandal is out in the open, care to share with the class?” 

Y/N sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, knowing there was no way out of this, “So here’s the thing, we both realised that we find these events boring so we came up with a list of things to spice it up a bit.”

“Are you serious, kid?” Tony shook his head, turned to Steve, “And I expected better of your righteous ass.”

Y/N nodded meekly at Tony, no longer able to speak from the disappointment and guilt she felt for what they had done. This wasn’t Steve, or her, for that matter. They’d just gone with the moment, caught up in it all.

Tony looked at his watch, “You both have an award to present in, oh, two minutes. Get yourselves cleaned up. Move it.”

Both walked away from the scolding looks, feeling like a pair of kids caught eating ice cream before dinner. Except this was much worse. Y/N snuck a glance to Steve, who swaggered away from Tony and Sam, a smug grin plastered on his face. She pulled her lips in, trying to hide the smile that was creeping up.

Sam called, “Y/N, you’re forgetting something.”

Y/N turned around, her brow pulled together in confusion until Sam lifted his left hand and pointed at his ring finger. Realisation dawned on her and she scrambled into her purse to find the sparkling diamond.

“Let me,” Steve took the ring from her and held out her hand, gently putting it into its rightful place. “Now that we’ve crossed off roleplay. What’s next on our List of Rebellious Deeds?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, and looped her arm through his, “come on honey, we can get back to what we were about to do in the closet the second we are home. No rebellion required.”

Everything Tag List: @kitkatd7 / @fandomfic-galore / @writerwrites / @thefridgeismybestie / @wedonttalkaboutitenough / @courtneychicken

Marvel Tag List: @natasha-danvers / @little-baby-vixen / @stuckonjbbarnes / @starlightcrystalline / @nekoannie-chan / @hailhydra920 / @vollzeitliebe / @fitzsimmons-is-forever / @ladyacrasia / @emmabarnes

[freddie-weaselbee]

April Fools//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Silly pranks and a little angst, a tiny bit of small language

Summary: April 1st was a special day for many reasons, and it’s about to get a whole lot more special once Fred asks an important question.

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Here’s a special fic for the twins birthday, as well as April Fools’ Day!  Fourth fic in Abby’s Week of Weasley. 

~Abby’s Week of Weasley Masterlist~   ~Masterlist~

Message me to join the taglist!

March 31, 1995

For the third time that night, Angelina Johnson rolled her eyes at you and hit you with her pillow. Hard. So hard that you ended up toppling off of your bed due to the excited, unbalanced position you were in, practically standing at the edge of your bed. 

“Angie!” you screamed from the floor, your smile cracking through the angry façade you were putting on. 

“Oh you deserved it Y/N!” your roommate yelled. “If I have to hear you talk about Fred for one more minute I swear...”

“I second that,” said Alicia Spinnet from her bed, rolling her eyes for the umpteenth time that night. “Just grow a pair and ask him out already!”

 “You’re crazy, absolutely insane,” you replied, climbing back onto your sheets only to be knocked down by your friend once again. 

 “Ok I swear I’m done now,” Angelina said through her giggles. “But Alicia’s right. It’s been two bloody years, why don’t you get up off your timid ass and actually do something? What could go wrong?”

 “What could go wrong?” 

 Alicia groaned at your incredulous tone, knowing exactly what Angelina had just started. She covered her ears with her pillow, hoping to drown out the next barrage of rapid fire words from your mouth.

 “Would you like the possibilities listed alphabetically or by order of significance?” you quipped, not giving either of the girls any time before you started again. “First of all, he would laugh at me. Then he’d realize how sad it was that I thought I actually had a chance with him and he’d make fun of me to the entire school. And you know that Fred can’t keep his damn mouth shut!”

 The girls murmured in agreement, knowing firsthand to never tell Fred any secrets unless they wanted the entire student body and population of England to know as well.

 “So he’d tell everyone,” you continued, “and they’d all make fun of me and talk about me behind my back. ‘Oh there goes poor Y/N, she’s so sad that she thought that the hottest guy in school would be interested in her! What a stupid stupid girl.’”

 “I personally think his brother is hotter, but to each his own,” Angelina murmured.

 “Bloody hell they’re identical twins, they’re practically the same,” said Alicia.

 “They’re not the same,” you and Angelina replied in sync, turning to each other and giggling before you finished your rant.

 “Anyways, the whole school would think I’m a moron, all of Fred’s family would think I’m a moron, and I’d probably be a laughing stock at The Burrow and I’d be too embarrassed to spend another summer there with everyone making fun of me! So that is why I will not be confessing my feelings any time soon.”

 Your friends just sighed and rubbed their temples, used to hearing this kind of talk from you. 

 “You know you’re hot as fuck, right?” said Alicia, gesturing up and down and seeming to check you out.

 “I know that,” you replied confidently. Something about being friends with Alicia and Angelina had brought out your confidence and you knew your self worth, but not when it came to the love of your life. “But there’s plenty of girls here who are hotter and haven’t had their hair held back by him while they threw up their guts into the toilet.”

 Alicia choked on the drink she was sipping, remembering that party a few months ago. “Yeah, remind us not to let you have firewhisky again you lightweight.”

 You tossed your pillow at her, making her spill her drink and grumble in your direction. 

 “Alright if you won’t tell him, why don’t you hint at it and hope for him to make a move?” Angelina suggested. “His birthday’s tomorrow, what did you get him?”

 “I, umm, I didn’t have that much money, so I had to be more... creative about it.” You pulled a sweater from one of your drawers, a deep purple color with orange stitching along the sleeves and collar. “Molly taught me how to knit over the summer and I’ve been working on this ever since. Do you think he’ll like it?”

 “That is the sweetest thing ever, Y/N,” said Angelina. “And Fred doesn’t care about money or wealth, I’m sure he’ll love it. Trust me, give him this and flirt with him all day tomorrow and I’m sure he’ll get the hint.”

 “He hasn’t gotten it yet, and I’ve done nothing but flirt all year!”

 “Then flirt harder,” said Alicia. “Give it all you have, and if it doesn’t work out then he’s a good for nothing prick. That’s how I live my life,” she said shrugging.

 “Great advice, thanks,” you drawled. “But alright, I’ll try harder. Tomorrow’s gonna be a day to remember!”

 ------------------------------

 April 1, 1995

 You and your roommates slowly snuck out of your room the next morning, being as quiet as humanly possible. On a normal day you wouldn’t bother to be this careful, but today was not a normal day. It was April 1st, the twins’ birthday. Also know as their favorite day of the year, April Fools’ Day. 

 Alicia stubbed her toe on one of the steps and let out a small peep, making you and Angelina turn to her in horror. Your cover was blown. 

 “Well, well, well,” came a voice from down the stairs. “What do we have here?”

 You shoved Angelina in front of you, clutching the back of her uniform for dear life. “You go,” you whispered. “You’re the strongest.”

 “No,” she said quickly, “Alicia’s the fastest, she can outrun them and cause a distraction!”

 “You know I wouldn’t even make it out of the common room,” Alicia replied. “Y/N can go first, she can talk them out of doing anything.”

 “Yeah, right,” you scoffed. “Like that’s ever worked before. I ended up going to bed to find a giant snake my sheets.”

 “Well, someone has to go first!” Angelina hissed. 

 The three of you continued your argument in low voices, none of you wanting to be the first to face Fred and George's wrath. You were so caught up in your conversation that you didn’t even notice the figure behind you until they cleared their throat.

 You all screamed and you tripped over Angelina, causing you all to tumble down the few last stairs. The second you made it to the bottom, you felt a warm, gooey liquid dripping down your head. Reaching your hand up to touch it, you saw that it was a green goop that was now covering you and your friends. 

 Laughter erupted from both sides of you. The person who had been standing behind you, who you now realized was George, was holding Colin Creevey’s camera and snapping a picture. Fred, standing practically over top of you, was doubled over clutching his stomach from laughing so hard.

 You sighed and looked down, already defeated. “Happy birthday, Freddie.”

 “I think you mean,” he said through giggles, “happy April Fools’ Day!”

 Angelina and Alicia were shooting daggers at the twins, who were still laughing and snapping photos.

 “This makes quite the pretty picture, doesn’t it Freddie?” George asked, showing him the camera.

 “Ah, yes it does! Y/N, you look beautiful as ever darling, even covered in goo.”

 You put your hands out, expected for him to help you stand up. Once he hoisted you to your feet you threw your arms around him, wiping as much substance as you could onto his clothes. 

 “Hey!” he said, trying to escape your death grip. 

 “What?” you asked innocently. “Can’t a girl hug her friend on his birthday?” You emphasized your words by grabbing some goo from your hair and reaching up to ruffle his, spreading it through his ginger locks. 

 “You’re a handful, love,” he said, finally giving up on escaping the revenge. 

 “But you can handle me, can’t you?” You winked at him and let him go, turning around to see George pinned to the ground by Angelina, face covered in green. 

 “I give, I give! I’m sorry!” She got off of him and offered him a hand up. You looked around at everyone to see that you all were a mess, covered head to two in Fred and George’s prank. 

 “Well,” said Alicia, “this is not how I wanted my morning to go, but I didn’t expect anything less. I’m gonna go get changed.”

 “Me too,” said Angelina and George nodded as well, heading to their respective dorms. 

 This left only you and Fred. Your heart started pounding. How were you supposed to flirt even more than you usually did? Were you supposed to make a move, maybe confess your feelings?

“I, umm, I have your present upstairs,” you said finally. “It’s not very good, but I can go grab it for you now if you’d like. After I’m clean that is.”

He bumped your shoulder with his, making your heart beat even faster. “I’m sure I’ll adore it, love. And actually, I was wondering if I could ask you something?”

“Yeah, of course, what is it?”

Fred avoided eye contact, fidgeting with his messy uniform. “Umm, why don’t we hang out today and I can tell you then. We could maybe, go on a picnic for lunch? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

A large grin grew on your face, spreading slowly but surely. Maybe you didn’t have to be the one to make a move after all. “Of course I want to, Freddie! It’ll be fun.”

“Great!” he said relieved. “I’ll see you then.”

You nodded as he ran to catch up with George. As soon as he left the common room you nearly fell over, having to hold onto a wall to keep yourself up. You sprinted to your room, mind racing with exactly what you were going to wear this afternoon. 

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

“Hey, love,” Fred called from across the entrance hall. “You look great.”

You blushed a little, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and trying to subtly look him up and down. Fred had dressed a little nicer than usual for your picnic, which made you feel better about putting in so much effort yourself. 

He came over and grabbed your hand in his, linking your fingers together and pulling you out the door. You wished your hands weren’t so clammy, and you hoped that Fred couldn’t tell. 

He took you to a secluded part of the courtyard, the corner where most kids would go to make out. Was that what was happening? Did he want to kiss you?

Fred spread out a blanket and opened the picnic basket, containing both of your favorite foods. 

“Looks so good Freddie,” you said. “Snuck into the kitchen again, didn’t you?”

“What can I say,” he shrugged. “Guy’s gotta eat.”

“You said like Ron.”

“Don’t ever insult me like that again, woman, or I will never speak to you”

You rolled your eyes at him and leaned back on your elbows. “Having Fred Weasley actually leave me alone for five minutes? That would be absolutely horrible. What would I do, not being able to hear about your pranks and projects?”

He leaned forward to tickle your sides, making you flail around and kick him away. “You’d be so desperate for me back, you’d probably lock yourself in your room all day.”

“Oh I’m sure,” you replied, sarcasm dripping from your tongue. 

The two of you continued to eat and talk, mostly about his plans for his birthday and how he was going to terrorize his mum once he got home for the summer because he could now legally do magic outside of Hogwarts. After what felt like forever of laughing and rolling around on the blanket and grass, your curiosity was finally getting the best of you. 

“Alright Fred, enough’s enough,” you said, turning partly serious. “Why did you ask me out here with you?”

Fred got nervous once again, grabbing some more food to shove in his mouth to buy him some time before answering. 

“I’m waiting. What, you wanted to ask me out but got too nervous? Huh, is that it?” You were completely joking, but Fred didn’t seem to correct you. He just turned to you and gave you a small nod, shocking you to your core. 

“What?” you asked, needing clarification. 

“Uh, well, Y/N, there’s something important I need to say.” He looked jumpy and excitable, but there was also a cocky gleam in his eye, which was always present with the boy. “I’m madly in love with you. I have been since we were 15, and I just needed to let you know. I want to hold you and kiss you and grow old with you, my darling princess. Will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

You sat there in complete surprise. This couldn’t be real, could it? Fred Weasley had loved you since you were 15? The tingles you always got when he said something to yo couldn’t compare to what you were feeling now.

Fred opened his mouth in a wide grin about to say something, when you cut him off with a hug. “Oh Freddie, you don’t understand how happy that makes me! I’ve loved you for forever, you’re perfect. Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.”

You held him tighter, burying your face in his neck and soaking in the feeling of being Fred’s girlfriend. But Fred had a completely different feeling running through him. 

He made eye contact with George, who was hiding in the bushes with his camera ready. He mouthed a question but Fred just shook his head in confusion. This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

You were supposed to laugh at him, become super uncomfortable. Fred knew that you only saw him as a friend and flirted with him jokingly. He’d never in a million years expect for you to confess your feelings back to him. 

He didn’t know what to do. You were just so open and vulnerable, confessing everything you’d been holding back. So, acting against George’s frantic suggestions, he completed the hug, resting his head on the top of yours.

What was he supposed to do? You were his best friend, he couldn’t bear to see you get hurt. How was he supposed to tell you, that this was all an April Fools?

Tag List: @famdomhideout @amourtentiaa

[human-do-a-worm]

Ramblings of an Old Soldier Part 3/3

Sorry about the wait. The second dose of COVID vaccine drains you a lot more than the first dose. Anyways here’s part 3, part 1 and part 2 can be found here.

Admiral Sturm sat on the park bench as he always did. Sipping on his coffee and reading the latest news from his datapad. Once again, the Unkall boy approached him and sat beside him on the bench. He noticed that the aging Terran was wearing a strange uniform, with the image of a furred beast embroidered on the chest and upper right arm.

“Good afternoon Mr. Sturm.” “Ah, hello there son. Back for story time again?” “Yes sir. I was wondering what happened after the summit. Almost all traces of you vanished from records 8 cycles ago, and the only mentions of you after that were how the Terran Navy wanted you back.”

“Well, as I said the other day, I became a merc. My crew and I were the best. We took contracts from the Segmentum Norrus, all the way down to the Serectan Void. We didn’t work like most mercenary groups. We sought out our clients, and saw a lot of business. Everything from running escort duty on supply runs to desperate worlds, to taking down entire groups of bandits and pirates. Wherever we went, outlaws and tyrants alike feared the sight of The Wolf’s Den.”

“The Wolf’s Den? I think we heard about a group of people using that ship last cycle in our Galactic History class. Something about taking part in the Gingral war, only a few cycles ago.” “Ah yes, the Gingral war. Some of the bloodiest fighting I’ve ever seen. That was the last contract my crew and I took. We started off in a small role; mostly just escorting supply freighters to the border colonies since most of the supply lines had been cut and the colonists were starving. Our last supply run had been going well, until 6 light cruisers decloaked and opened fire. We did the best we could, but the supply freighter carrying food and civilians was destroyed in only a few minutes.”

“We could have escaped after that. Made a jump to the nearest Unkall station and gotten reinforcements, but My crew and I all knew what had to be done. We knew that the Gingral had to pay. They may have outnumbered us 6 to 1, and they may have had us outgunned, but they didn’t account for us having a mark 7 jump core. We warped around behind them and took down 2 of the light cruisers rather easily, but then we took a hit. The jump core cut out, and we were relying only on engine power.”

“But The Wolf’s Den must have survived somehow. The history logs said that it served through the entirety of the Gingral War.”

“That’s almost right. We knew that we wouldn’t be able to keep her together much longer, so we did what all Terrans do in situations like this. We became unpredictable. We gave all power to weapons and blasted the furthest ship from us, then mustered to the airlocks. We put on EVA gear and as soon as we were close enough to the next ship, we boarded.” “Wasn’t ship boarding added to the prohibited activities of War after the Terran war?” “It was, but targeting civilians has always been among the prohibited activities of War, so we were still committing a lesser infraction. We blasted open the port hangar with a plasma charge, and cleared the first room. Then we cleared the rest of the ship up to the bridge and took out the last remaining light cruiser. Changed the comms channels to the ones we had on The Wolf’s Den, then modified the IFF tag accordingly. When we arrived at the Unkall station we had just left, they demanded an explanation, so we told them what happened.” “And you weren't reprimanded?”

“Oh, we were. There was even a small tribunal held to determine if we could still fight. That’s when the call came in. Rakthis had been attacked, with only a handful of survivors. I immediately got up and started heading to my ship. The Unkall admiral demanded to know where I was going. After calmly telling him that there was now a full scale war, we had work to do. I went to the hangar and got the light cruiser repaired and ready for combat, but not before renaming it. The Wolf’s Den was never destroyed, it just became another ship.”

“What happened next?” the Unkall boy asked. “Weren’t the forces around Rakthis said to be uncounted?”

“They were, that’s why we didn’t go to Rakthis. We went to Waalon instead. Then to Rek’lon, and finally to Scrurros. Everywhere we went, we pushed back the Gingral horde. My first mate, Sarah Callingham, had family on the outer colonies back in the Vrumoid war. Saw most of them killed in front of her when their shuttle was shot down leaving atmosphere on Vrall VII. Scrurros was a tough nut to crack, and she had more crafty ideas than I did. We landed The Wolf’s Den on the uninhabited side of the planet, then bought a grav truck from one of the farmers. It was hard to weld the armor plates on it at the right angle, but mounting the lasguns and mortar was rather simple. I stood in the back, manning two of the lasguns and the mortar while she and two other soldiers were up front in the cab. We got almost to the planetary capital before we faced any resistance.”

“But the history logs said that Scrurros didn’t fall until the later end of the war.” “That’s right. We couldn’t take the planet as easily as we’d taken the others. When the first mortar hit the shield on the planetary governance center, we knew we were in for a fight. We got the truck away with only a few shots on the armor, but we were pursued by the planetary militia. One of the armored gun trucks fired their heavy las gun and took out the rear grav drive. With the back end of the truck along the ground, our speed tanked to a crawl. I was able to keep the militia back for a while by pinning them down with the lasguns, but then another shot hit us, dead center mass.”

“How bad was it? Were you alright?”

“I made it out with only a few scratches, scrapes, and bruises, but Sarah and the others up front weren't so lucky. The shot penetrated the cab and blew up at the steering linkage. Only Sarah, myself, and the one crewman in the back with me made it out of that. We ducked into a nearby building for cover, only to find that it was a school. Not wanting to put the civilians in danger, we lightly dressed Sarah’s wounds and went on into the forest surrounding the city. We came to a cave at the foot of a mountain, and made camp inside.” “Who was the other crewman that was with you? I notice that you haven’t said his name yet.”

“His name was Richard Grumman. He was the newest addition to The Wolfpack, joining us less than a cycle ago. We hadn’t had much time to get to know each other. The Militia found us in the first week, and he was shot to death on the night they raided the cave. Sarah and I managed to get away, but we were far from being safe. The next night we got a transmission from The Wolf’s Den; They had been found, and were wondering what to do. Sarah and I were at least four days away from the ship, so I made the call and told them to leave while they had the chance, to keep fighting and never forget about us.” “So you willingly stranded yourself and an injured crewmate on a hostile planet just to save your crewmates? The stories about the Terrans must be true.” “You’ll learn that those stories don’t even tell half the story if you stick on a Terran ship for even half a cycle. Anyways, there we were, just me and Sarah on Scrurros. I treated her wounds the best I could, but she wasn’t getting much better. Eventually she died, less than half a cycle into our time on that world. I retired with her body to the farmer who sold us the truck, and paid him to let me bury Sarah on his property. Much like with the freighter, the Gingral would pay. I took stock of what I had. Two lasguns, three fragmentation grenades, an energy grenade, and a plasma charge. Not nearly enough to take on the forces of the planet, but maybe enough to make it possible.”

“So what did you do? The Gingral don’t just let prisoners get away. Especially not in the middle of a war.” “Well, I couldn't just storm the Planetary Governance Center. That would accomplish nothing but my own death. Instead I went for something better. Three grids away from the Governance Center was the Defense Center. The plan was simple. Get inside, break as much stuff as I could, and hope that was enough to take down their defenses. It took me ten days to reach the capital again, and another three to figure out how to get inside. Turns out the Gringal didn’t make their roof as secure as they should have. I opened up the ventilation system and got inside. From there it was a short trip to the bunker exterior.”

“Aren’t Gingral bunkers some of the hardest to break open in the entire galaxy? How did you get inside?” “Simple; I didn’t break in; I snuck in. I kicked out the vent and got inside the bunker, then closed and locked the door behind me and smashed the controls. There were only technicians and a few soldiers inside, who were easy enough to dispatch. The harder part was accessing the communications room. Aside from the door of the bunker itself, the communications room was the most secure place in the facility. The door was half a meter thick, and barred at six points. That would prove to be a great challenge, so I left it for later. I quickly found the controls to the weapons system, and took it down. The planet was now mostly defenseless against ships in orbit and low atmosphere.”

“So you took down the guns, but how did you get in?”

“The door was too hard to get through, so I made my own instead. I went above the room and opened up the three fragmentation grenades. Terrna frag grenades use a pressure sensitive explosive to detonate, so I poured it out above the room, then placed the plasma charge on top of it. I ducked out of the room and waited for the explosion. When that charge went off, it was as if the whole planet shook. When I went in to check on the hole, the charge had only just broken through the floor. It took hours for me to get the hole wide enough for me to wriggle inside, but it was worth it. I contacted the Unkall fleet, and they were there within the week. The planet fell and I was pulled from the bunker before the food and water stores were even dented.”

“So that’s why taking Scrurros was so easy for the fleet. There wasn’t as much resistance as the planet originally had. And you were the one to take it down?”

“That’s right. After the war, I was broken. My knees were all but useless for fighting, and I could barely stand without swaying. The Unkall empire never forgot what my crew and I did. We were paid many times more than what was written in our contract, and they even got me a home right here on Unkall Prime. Now I sit here, enjoying retirement in my old age. Though the Terran lifespan is almost 50 cycles, we’re usually out of our working years after only 30 cycles. Our bodies are too old and weak to do most of the hard tasks that we normally would.”

“So what do you do now? Surely after a life like yours you want to do something just as exciting after you’re done working.”

“I mostly just read now. When you spend your life as a soldier, you miss out on so much. I never settled down and had kids, and my time for that is even drawing to a close. I did take up a few hobbies here and there, but nothing really stuck. I still work part time for the Unkall empire, training their soldiers in virtual reality simulations is about all I can do, but I’ve given the Unkall the strength to protect their planets, and given their generals and admirals the knowledge not to go on any missions they will regret. I’m happy with the contributions I’ve made in my life, and if I had the chance, I’d do it all over again. By the way, I never did catch your name.”

“My name is Ruthal Nerzak, and I’m slotted to be a soldier in the Unkall Defense Force.”

“Well Ruthal, I hope we will meet again someday.”

With that, Ruthal stopped recording and went home, finishing his final report.

A few days later, Ukall prime came under attack. A colonial independence group made numerous strikes around the city, and Ruthal had been caught outside on his way home from class. He tried to run away, but was chased by one of the insurgents down an alleyway, when suddenly two lasgun shots rang out. Ruthal though he was dead, but he slowly opened his four eyes and saw that the terrorist was dead on the ground in front of him. Looking up, he was me with a familiar face

“Thank you Mr. Sturm, I thought I was surely dead.”

“Don’t thank me yet, we’re seven grids away from the nearest shelter, and there’s enemies all around us. You said you wanted to be a soldier, well your training just started early.”

Sturm handed Ruthal the lasgun from the dead insurgent, and after showing him how to fire and teaching him how to make sure it doesn’t overheat, he led the Unkall boy out of the alley and down the street. Two blocks later, Sturm pulled the Unkall boy into an alley.

“Alright son, listen up. There’s about fifty armed and angry people between us and shelter. Our espace routes have been mostly cut off, so I need you to listen to me and listen well. When I tell you to run, you run as fast as you can. We should be able to get past most of them by taking the alleys across the street. I picked up some kit off one of these guys. The flashbang should buy us enough time to cross the street, but I’ll have to think of something after we get to our next crossing.”

Sturm threw the flashbang far into the crowd of terrorists, blinding a dozen of them and allowing them to cross the street. After seeing how many insurgents were at their crossing point, Sturm and Ruthal entered a tall residence building across from a big shootout between the insurgent and Unkall forces.

“Alright, we don’t stand a chance of crossing that. Here’s the plan. We’ll get up high, and then open fire on them. If nothing else, we’ll draw their attention away from the defense forces and allow them to break through.”

“I can’t. They’re people, just like us.” “Look around you kid. There’s men, women, and children all gunned down by these guys. I’m not sure what that makes them in Unkall society, but to us Terrans, they’re no longer people; they���re monsters. As a soldier, our job is to get rid of the monsters, so that everyone can sleep soundly at night knowing they’re safe. Taking a life isn’t something one does lightly, but it’s still something that has to be done. It’s better that we take them out, because if we don’t, who knows how many more people they’ll kill. We don’t do this because we like killing, we do this because we love the people we protect, and we’d give anything to keep them safe.”

“But I don’t want to hurt them.”

“I understand. I’m not sure if the Unkall have a saying like this, but Terrans sure do. You have a big heart. You want to keep people safe, not put them in the ground. But sometimes the best way to keep people safe is to put bad people in the ground. We’re between a rock and a hard place. If we sit here and do nothing, they will continue to hold this street, but if we can take them down, even just one or two of them, we can make them fight on two sides, which is the easiest way to break through an enemy line. I recognize a few of the soldiers I can see from up here. I trained them myself. They’ll realize what’s going on and they’ll do the heavy lifting; we just need to give them a helping hand. So, are you ready?”

The young Unkall nodded, then Sturm and Ruthal braced their lasguns on the windowsill, and opened fire on the street below. As Sturm said, the insurgents shifted their position, attempting to defend against incoming fire from two directions. As the Unkall defense forces broke the lines, a single shot came from the street and hit Sturm in the neck

Bleeding badly, Sturm stumbled back, Ruthall catching him in his arms. As he was losing his grasp on consciousness, Sturm held Ruthalls hand

“Never forget what happened here. Never forget the atrocities you saw with your own eyes, and never be afraid to rise up against the monsters who make things like this happen.”

With that, Sturm closed his eyes. Unkall security forces soon burst into the room, seeing the state of the old Terran, they gave him the best aid they could, and sent him off to the hospital, with Ruthall at his side.

After a lengthy surgery and two pints of blood, Sturm woke up in his hospital room, Ruthall asleep on his lap. Colonel Rengar, a soldier in the Unkall defense forces entered the room.

“So Admiral, I see your retirement is going well.”

“Can the crap Colonel. How many did we lose?”

“Casualties are still being counted, but even one is too many.”

“And what about the boy, Ruthall. Why is he still here?"

"His family were among those killed in the attack. We haven’t told him yet, just that we’re still looking for them.”

“So what will happen to him?”

“We don’t know. He doesn’t have any living family, and in our culture friend’s do not step in for situations like these. He will likely be left to become an adoptee for some family here, but after this, I’m not sure who would adopt him.”

“I will.”

“What? You can’t be serious. The looks he would get, especially here in the capital. I’m not sure if he can take it.”

“He knows my story. He knows that I take care of the ones I call family. He didn’t hesitate to pick up a rifle and follow me through the streets today, and he only barely hesitated to fight beside me. He’ll make a fine soldier, and he’ll make a damn good son. Get me the documents dammit.”

“Very well.”

Ruthall woke up, and was told about what happened. He didn’t take his family dying too well, but was glad that he would not be alone. The next day that school was in session, Admiral Sturm put on his old Terran uniform, and walked his son into class. It was not easy adjusting to caring for a young Unkall child, but it was a change that Sturm was happy to make. He had known what it was like to be alone, and now he could keep Ruthall from knowing that pain.

The End

Let me know if you guys want a follow up series about Sturm and Ruthall on Unkall Prime, and how they live their lives together.

[greenygreenland]

Riptide: Cole x Reader

-HAPPY 10th ANNIVERSARY NINJAGO!! -I write for females (just as a side note) because I’m a girl and it’s easy for me soooo yeah :/ -i know jay and cole are besties, but for this, let’s just say jay still likes to tease cole (friends do that anyway tho??)

Summary: Cole finds you at the beach trying to drown yourself. When he rips you out of the ocean, he realises you look familiar.

WARNINGS: Near-death (drowning)

The waves quietly lapped against the edge of the sand, tickling Cole’s toes as he made his way across the wet grains. The moon stood high in the sky, shining brightly overhead like a lighthouse. Cole promised to catch up with the others, but he couldn’t rip himself away from the calm of the waves. 

His heart stilled with the quiet waves, sinking into the wet sand like his feet. A cool breeze passed over his face and it brushed through his windswept hair. If only Ninjago could stay this calm. If only he could be like the ocean, free, never ending. 

Cole found himself walking deeper into the ocean and away from the banks. The waves slowly met his ankles, then his knees. It soaked into his rolled up trousers, travelling up until he was waist deep. He didn’t worry about being so far out since it was low-tide. And even if he did find himself getting swept out to sea, he still had his powers. 

Something softly splashed over to his left. He whipped around, immediately taking a defensive stance. As ineffective as it was, he’d rather be safe than sorry. 

Cole eyed the smooth waters. He wondered if it was a shark, or worse, a mystical beast he never heard about. For a few moments, it was quiet, save for the waves, the calm breezes, and Cole’s steady breath. “Maybe it was a fish.” he whispered to himself with a chuckle. Something brushed his leg and he reared back with a squeal. 

“Not a fish not a f--First Spinjitzu Master!” 

The first thing Cole saw was a shirt, then a bundle of floating hair and a face hidden among it. He wanted to freak out, but a girl was laying in the sand underwater. Underwater. He plunged under the cool waves, wrapping his arms around the girl’s torso and hauling her up. “First Spinjitzu Master... First Spinjitzu Master...” Cole placed a hand on his earpiece.

“Guys! I found a girl in the ocean. She’s unconscious and...I don’t think she’s breathing. Come quick!” 

“We’re on our way.” said Zane. The nindroid’s voice was a relief to hear. “We will arrive in five minutes, and as an extra precaution, I have phoned nine-one-one.” 

“Okay, great, great.” As Cole laid the limp girl on the grainy sand, he frantically looked her up and down. Even through the curtain of hair plastered over her forehead, he could tell her face was unnaturally pale. So much, that it could have been a mirror of the bright moon.

It suddenly occurred to Cole that he had to do something. The girl wasn’t breathing and she’d die if he didn’t do something. “Gyah! I’m not the smart one!” He ran a hand over his face. There was one thing Zane did bother to teach everyone in the group, whether it be for civilian use or themselves. Cole pictured Zane standing by his side.

Place the heel of your palms on the centre of the chest.

Cole placed his hands on the centre of the girl’s chest. 

Interlock your fingers. Remember to press two inches down.

Cole interlocked his fingers. 

I have read somewhere that pressing down to the beat of Stayin’ Alive is said to ‘do the trick’ and make it easier. 

And so Cole did just that. “Ha... Ha... Ha... Ha... Stayin’ alive... Stayin’ alive...” He wasn’t sure if it was working, or even if he was doing it right to begin with. How would pressing two inches down on someone’s chest do good? How would this save her from being killed?

Suddenly, she jolted upward, coughing and sputtering out a load of water right into Cole’s face. He didn’t care though. That meant the water had come out of her lungs, right? The danger had been avoided, at least for now. 

“COLE!” 

He whipped around, letting out a loud sigh of relief. Zane and Pixal took Cole’s place, reviewing her vitals and diagnosing her with whatever. He wasn’t sure what they were doing, so he stood off to the side as Jay babbled away. “What happened? Are you okay? How did you find the girl? You didn’t have to swim out there did you?” 

Kai looked at Jay weirdly. “Do you think Cole would swim out that far to begin with? He probably found her washed ashore.” Cole wanted to say something, but he was in a daze. The more he thought about the girl, the more he wondered where he saw her from. It was like a smell you know you’ve smelled before but can’t put a name or memory to. 

He ignored the background chatter and zeroed his gaze on her limp body as Zane carried her to the ambulance. When Zane turned around and motioned for him to come over, Cole finally came back to his senses. He could think about the girl later, right now, he had to answer some questions. 

Three weeks later

“Urgh,” said Cole. “Why do I have to go with Jay?” Sensei Wu raised a brow at him as if to say, ‘really?’. “What is wrong with Jay?” he inquired. “He is a brother, and brothers should be respected.” Off to the side, Jay loudly applauded. “Period. Brothers should be respected, Cole.” He rolled his eyes with a sigh. 

“Now,” Wu interjected. “I want you both to visit Jamanakai Village. You will find Mystake’s tea shop. Get these and only these.” He handed Cole an old drawstring bag. It had a label on the string, but the handwriting was so wonky that Cole couldn’t read it. “If she tries to kick you out, tell her I sent you. That is all, I expect you both back by Thursday.”

Jay let out a long groan. “Why can’t Kai do it? Or Zane? Or Lloyd?” He smugly glanced at Cole. “Or even my wonderful girlfriend Nya? I thought they were the responsible ones.” Wu raised a brow and Cole snickered. “You will both go to Jamanakai Village. That is final. While you are out, do not forget to eat and whatever you do, no Elemental Dragons and no vehicles. You will walk the entire way to the village, am I clear?”

“Yes, Sensei.” 

To say the walk was gruelling was a nice way to put it. There were tens of thousands of other words Cole could have said to describe the terrible pain of having Jay around. Of course, he didn’t actually mean that, but hypothetically, the walk was terrible. 

“You know,” said Jay, “these birds are said to have been exported from the Dark Island.” He pointed to a nearby tree, where three or four birds sat. Their oily wings were like liquid obsidian. Funnily enough, the colour matched both Cole’s gi and hair. He watched as one of them flew away, fluttering straight over his head and into the sky above. 

Cole wondered if it would be nice to live life as a bird, but then he realised he wouldn’t have a bed or cake or chocolate and candy. 

“I’m guessing they were exported before the Dark Island became...you know.” added Jay. “I mean, how could these cute little guys be from there?” He reached out to pet one of the birds. It squawked and bit his finger. “OW!” Jay rounded on the tiny bird, who actually appeared to be laughing. “Bad bird! That’s a no-no! You don’t bite people like that.” 

Jay ripped off his glove and sucked on his poor finger. Cole stared at him as he whimpered. “Is it bleeding?” 

“Gwee, I fondt knowh.” 

Cole dug a hand in his pouch. He felt around and pulled out a band-aid along with a small alcohol wipe. “Here.” Jay took the band-aid and wipe, gingerly dabbing it on his wound and wrapping the band-aid around his finger. “Thanks.” 

“Yeah.” 

They continued on in a comfortable silence, caring only to watch the leaves sway in the wind. When they arrived in Jamanakai village, their feet were sore, and they were tired. Jay’s stomach grumbled, and so did Cole’s. 

“I knew we should have eaten before we left.” Cole muttered. Jay let out a long yawn. “Sensei Wu said we were supposed to be back by Thursday. That’s three days away without video games. Do you think I can survive like this? Do you Cole?” 

He wasn’t listening. A heavenly smell reeled him in like a fishing line. It was sweet, yet it smelled like green tea. Maybe it was cake; Cole hoped it was cake. “Do you smell that?” he seriously inquired. Jay knitted his brows together. “The bakery? Oh, it’s right there.” He pointed to a small shop to their left, where a girl stocked freshly baked cakes and buns. 

Cole could already imagine how pillowy and soft the buns would be. They would have sweet fillings that melted in his mouth, and the cake would be the perfect texture with the right amount of cream. He made his way to the bakery, keeping a keen eye on the fresh chocolate cake. 

“Cole, we’re not here to buy cake.” said Jay. “If we’re gonna eat, we might as well eat a real meal.” Cole rolled his eyes and pointed to a slice of chocolate cake. “I’ll take one of that, please.” 

The cashier took out a pair of sparkling tongs. “Will that be all?” she inquired with a smile. “My grandma just finished steaming the buns, they’re fresh.” Cole whipped towards the cashier. For some reason, her voice sounded so familiar. It was again, like a smell that reminded him of something he couldn’t quite place. Sweet, nostalgic, kind.

That’s right, he thought. This was the girl he saved on the beach. But before then, he knew her as the studious (Y/n) (L/n) from the Marty Oppenheimer School of Performing Arts. When Cole had no one to talk to in class, she was there. When he forgot his lunch, she shared it with him. When he decided to run away, she promised not to forget him. 

(Y/n) walked out from behind the counter. She handed Cole a bag of two containers. “It was you, wasn’t it?” Her voice was rather soft, like she were embarrassed anyone else would hear. “You saved me, on the beach.”

“Y-yeah, I did.” Was it just Cole or was it getting hot out here?  He didn’t need anyone to tell him his face had gone beet red. “Thank you Cole. I might have snuck ‘a few’ more cakes in the bag. That guy’s your friend, right? There are some buns in there for him too.” 

Cole met (Y/n)’s bright eyes. They weren’t as lively as he remembered, but they still held that warm glow that always made him feel safe. “I--uh--(Y/n)...” 

“Yeah?”

“Uh...do you still go to the Marty Oppenheimer School?” Do you want to hang out sometime? “I mean...uh...” How have you been? “T-thank you for the food.” He let out a nervous laugh and (Y/n) chuckled a little. “If you’re wondering, I graduated last year.” she said. Cole’s eyes widened. Had that much time already passed? 

“I live in Ninjago City now.” she added. “I didn’t think I would make it this far, but I did. I’m here in Jamanakai for the next three months before I go back to the city. I heard you’ve been up to things too--ninja stuff. Saving lives.” She smiled at Cole, as if the two shared an inside joke. 

“(Y/n)! Help me carry this, it’s too heavy for me!”

(Y/n) glanced over her shoulder. “One second, grandma!” She turned back to Cole and wrapped him in a tight hug. It was brief, it was sweet, and it made Cole remember just how close they used to be. “I have to get back to work. See you soon Cole?”

“Yeah.” he awkwardly replied. “See you soon.” He watched as she disappeared out back. When did he finally become taller than her? When had she actually spoken so nonchalantly? Last time he saw her, they were still kids. They were young, and even with responsibilities, they were still free. 

“Sooooo, you’ve got yourself a girl?” inquired Jay. He took the bag from Cole and made his way over to the fountain. The two sat on the ledge as Jay sifted through the food. There were buns filled with red bean paste, lotus paste, and even barbeque pork. Under that were five different desserts. Two velvety chocolate cakes, one egg tart, and three pieces of perfectly wrapped mochi. 

Jay took one of the meat buns. “Wow, this is really good. Tell your girlfriend to teach you how to cook.” Cole let out a short sigh. “She’s not my girlfriend, Jay. I haven’t even seen her in years.” 

“What? Why?”

Cole closed one of the boxes. He dug around the bag for a fork, but he grasped a small slip of paper instead. Jay peered over Cole’s shoulder with wide eyes. “Ooooo she gave you her phone number? See! Dating. Case closed. I’m gonna tell everyone when we get back.” 

“No you aren’t.” Cole retorted. “Like I said, I haven’t seen her in years. She probably only wanted to get back in touch.” Jay raised his brows and Cole elbowed him in the stomach. “Get your mind out of the gutter.” He pulled out one of the buns and took a big bite out of it. “We went to the same school together as kids. We became friends there, but when I ran away from home, we lost contact.” 

“So go talk to her!” exclaimed Jay. “Before we go, I’m setting you both up on a date, or at least a night out together. We’re not going home on Thursday, got it? We’re staying ‘til Saturday and that’s final.” Cole raised a brow in amusement. “I thought you said you wanted to play video games.”

“If your girlfriend has a phone, then she has video games.” said Jay smartly. Cole let out a bright laugh. All he really knew now was that he’d have to come to Jamanakai Village more often. 

NOTE: I will make a part two soon, so stay tuned! Tip jar

[yulight]

BitterSweet

Description: Vampires, Club, Sexy Victon, I’m just trash for Seungwoo

Word count: 2.6k

Genre: Part one Suggestive , but we all know its a Smut, PWP,  with Vampires. Warnings: may involve biting blood, does involve alcohol, Dom Seungwoo,  um Hanse is hot .  Paring(s): Seungwoo x Female reader! Suggestive Somi x Hanse  

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It wasn't too common for Humans, To mingle around the city at night. The streets never seem to sleep here, From daylight Humans carried out their routines While during Dusk to Dawn the other half of society came out. The town was owned by Vampires, actually literally owned by them, Humans only a couple hundred years ago became able to live within the town. Within the centuries, rules and laws were placed to keep both parties safe and able to coexist together. However one major law that the humans lived by was recently lifted, the Law of curfew, it was placed in the beginning years of the town to insure no human was hunted, hurt or kept for stock.

However, The console thought the law is in time for a change since, living with humans was part of their daily life now. It's been nearly four year since that law was lifted, many Humans still keep to their routine However, some boldly adventure off into the nightlife. Your Friend being one of them and this time she was dragging you to an event with her.

“Come on y/n you’ll love it please” She grabbed onto your wrist as he looked at you with famous puppy dog eyes, you hated how cute she was. “Pleaseeeeeeeeeeeee” she whined making you roll your eyes as you sighed in defeat. “Fine, I’ll go but if a single vampire even looks at me the wrong way we are leaving” You crossed your arms. 

“For one, you’ll be lucky if they even look at you! You don’t know how hard it is to get their attention” She would smile falling back against your bed.

“So where are we going what kind of event is it” You lean closer to you vanity as your tied your hair up into a bun. Her silence was making you a bit uneasy as she would, as you turned around sitting on the desk of your vanity. “.. No” you shock your head as you looked at her “we are Not going to the club opening” 

“You already said yes though.. Come on, it won't be bad we just be having fun! Haven't you always wished to go to a club like they do on movies and stuff. Please just one time” Somi sat up from your bed as she grabbed your hands starting to beg again. Her pleads making you laugh a bit, under your breath. She was right, I mean she knew beforehand you guys grew up together so whenever movies or shows that had clubs and nightlife in it you both would stay up talking about it. You remember the time when you both snuck out a window of her parents house sitting on the fire escape watching all the Vampires roam around the streets, that until one of them noticed you both sitting up there and threatened to bite you if you both didn't go to sleep. Ever since then, you both used to be so scared of vampires, you don't understand where her bravery came from. Thinking about it now, it may be childish to still be scared of someone who was most likely joking, and was generally wishing for you to get a good amount of sleep.

Her soft whines would snap you out of your faint memories and thoughts “Fine, but i still mean it we are leaving the second one gets too close to us okay?” She gave a faint nod “Okay cool so we have a half an hour to be there.” 

you would blink shaking your head “What? Wait, it's today? Somi!! you know how i hate you throwing plans on me last second i don’t even have anything to wear!” You groaned lightly as you rubbed your face. 

“y/n its okay, i bought us both dresses i came prepared” she would give a small laugh before grabbing her bag, pulling out two nicely folded dresses “this red one is for you, and the black one is for me” she hummed happily She would hold up her dress pressing it against her body as she smiled “shoes are also in the bag” she would turn as she left your bedroom heading to the bathroom to change. You would pick up the dressing looking at it rolling your eyes. You wouldn’t, you couldn’t wear this, the dress was so tiny wanting nothing more to scream at her, but you knew would get her way. It was like her magical charm.

You placed the dress down onto the bed grabbing a pair of heels out of her bag, thankfully you and somi shared the same shoe size.Making everything easier also great when sharing shoes., you would strip from your oh so comfortable pajamas, into Tight red dress that formed to your body, it had a small amount of lace work around your breast with a slightly deeper cut than you hoped for. Thankful the dress wasn't beyond  too tight as he held a slit going up halfway from your thigh. Giving your just enough room to breath. 

“Look at you!!!!!!!” Somi would give out a little yell as she walked into the room smiling “you look so good” You couldn't help but to laugh a bit as you rolled your eyes “You’re something else Somi”  Somi dress was far more modest, at least in your own opinion . Her Dress held one sleeve, but was far the length was a bit shorter than yours, and the bottom had a small side raise making her left thigh more noticeable. She would grab the second pair of shoes from her bag as she sat down on your bed strapping them onto her feet. 

You rolled your eyes as you sat down at your vanity pulling your hair out of the bun, watching it fall to your shoulders in the mirror grabbing the brush you ran it through your hair a bit before parting the same way you always do. Running your fingers over your makeup collection you would look back at Somi “what do i even do for make up?” .

She would look up at you from her phone “eyeliner maybe lipstick if you're feeling cheeky if not tint or gloss. It's not anything too special. It's not like any handsome vampire will notice us we’re just going to dance” you gave a small nod before turning back to the mirror, grabbing your eyeliner, drawing a small wing on each eye hoping they both came out even Grabbing your favorite lip gloss you would apply it to your lips smiling to yourself a bit. Somi would already be standing up holding a small handbag for you open “put your lip gloss and phone in her also your ID” you rolled your eyes “my ID is literally inside the case of my phone” you grabbed the small black handbag from her throwing the golden chain over your shoulder . as you placed your phone and lip gloss into the small bag. 

-------

You hated it, you hated how quickly you both entered the club, the bouncer only looking at you and somi for a second before letting you both in. You held onto each other's hand as you walked through the busy club,you couldn't believe how beautiful everyone was. You always knew vampires were more than blessed with their visuals, well being if they were born one at least. Somi would move around the club floor dragging you along with her before stopping at the bar. She would give you a quick small glance before sitting down.

“We get a drink, then we find a spot on the dance floor” She would explain a bit before looking over at the new found person who stood before the both of you. The color of his eyes were soft yellow eyes, which contrasted with how sharp his eyes shape was. The color of his eyes complemented his orange hair. “What can i get for you two?” His voice was Dull, monetoned and cold. You would look over at Somi who seem to be lost for words as she stared at the male, you would lightly kick her making her clear her throat and look away from the male “ah can we get a Dusk till Dawn and “ she would look over at you “ah - a blue lagoon “. The bartner would look between the both of you before nodding, and walking away. 

He nearly only took a few steps away before Somi had nonsense spilling out her mouth “did you see him” “he's so attractive “ “did you notice he as a lip ring” “ i like how his eyes match his hair” 

“Somi.. “ you laughed looking at her as she covered her mouth laughing “I'm sorry Y/N but, he was really nice looking, like he also has tattoos. I didn't know vampire could have tattoos”

“You know he can properly hear you” You shifted slightly in your seat looking around to see if he was close by, only for your eyes to lock with a pair of red ones who were staring at you from the other side of the club. Quickly turning around you looked at somi “See i knew this was a bad idea, we're getting stared at” you whispered lightly as you looked at her. 

Somi would roll her eyes “oh sto-” The orange hair male would make his way back to the both of you, as he crossed his arms lightly against his chest “the one in red, is wanted in the vip area.. Best not keep him waiting, doll, and do not worry. I’ll keep the one in black safe if thats what you’re worried about” He would point as two men appeared behind you and Somi. One with white hair the other with a faded pink. “They will bring you to Seungwoo.” The Pink haired male, held his hand out helping you from your seat. You would look back at Somi confused only to see her staring at the orange haired vampire without regards to you being moved off into The VIP area.

Your drink sat on the Table, along with a handsome, Very handsome man, who bared the same red eyes that were staring at you earlier. You stood before the table, holding your own hand interlocking your fingers as you lightly chewed the inside of your cheek. Unsure of what to say or do. “You should sit down” the tall white haired Vampire  whispered lightly into your ear, which made you jump forward nearly jumping onto the black haired male who called for you lap.

Inching yourself away a bit he would wrap his arm around your shoulder looking down at you pulling you back to his side. "How nice of you to accept my invitation” His voice was smooth and soft. His hand would reach for your drink handing it to you as he smiled slightly looking down at you. You would happily accept your long awaited drink taking a sip as he spoke “You know, You’re a very beautiful girl, I can’t dare to let any filthy vampire just wander around something as beautiful as you.” His comment throwing you off guard, the alcohol burning your throat as you let out a faint cough. 

“.. i..” you stutter a bit as his slender fingers lifted your chin raising your gaze to meet his own again. "You’re supposed to say Thank you”  You would look away, feeling your cheeks heat up “Thank you?” you questioned lightly before getting a small hum of satisfaction from him. “You know a conversation works when both parties are engaged, unless.. You just want me to tell you what to do that can be arranged as well” Seungwoo would glare down at you making you clear your throat as you looked down at your Drink. “Sorry, i- .. I’m just lost for words right now”

Seungwoo raised a brow as he looked back over to the two men who stood by the booth, both of them nodding as they turned on their heels to walk away. “Well let's start slow, what's your name” he questioned as he his cold long fingers lightly played with the thin lace of your dress. Shivering slightly under his cold as you placed your drink down onto the table “y/n mine is y/n, and you’re Seungwoo i was told. Ah may I ask…  ”

“No, your friend may not join, no you may not go back to her. She will be well entertained by Hanse don’t worry .and No i won’t bite you.. Unless that's what you want by the end of tonight” he would look away from you as he grabbed his own glass sipping it lightly before leaning back against the booth. “And why you? Well, I said that already. You are beautiful, and i can’t dare let any low rank vampire even look at you”  You would let out a small laugh “what do you mean by low rank? Aren't vampire just vampires”

He couldn't help but chuckle as he placed his glass down onto the table “we have ranks, darling. Pure blood, half blood and true bloods. You can tell the difference from our eyes, like the  bartender Hanse who you friends about to leave her tonight with his eyes glowed with a yellow tint therefore he is a true blood, the two I sent for you have a soft blue so they are half.”  you would nod a bit “and you're red.. And since you speak so highly of yourself i guess that makes you a pure” he would nod “so what's the difference” 

Seungwoo hummed lightly “did they not teach you this in schools? Or did they just say beware of vampires.. Well. Pure, are pure a full family line of vampires. A True is when someone is who was born human and a Half is.. Half? One of their parents were a pure blood the other was a true typically happens when a vampire falls in love with a human and turns their partner into a vampire which also, you can only be a True blood if you are bitten during sex and only by a pure To answer the next question”  His fingers would gently play with the lace again as he looked down at you with a small hum.

You sat back gently as you thought about what he said, then releasing everything he said, the comment of biting you, how he was a pure vampire. Was he imply to have sex with you? Would you even turn him down on the offer? Especially if what he said about Somi was true. 

His face would lean down as his hot breath hit your ear, his lips dangerously close to you the shell of your ear you swore you can feel them “Are you really thinking about that darling? How impropriety” His voice was  was in a hushed tone, but the smirk on his lips was auditability heard through his words. Your face would brighten as you looked up at him. “What?” was he able to actually read your mind? Or was this a game he played often and knew it very well. 

“The second i said sex, your whole body reacted, from your heartrate to your thighs closing. You may think you’re being subtle but darling, I’m not a human. I can read you very clearly” Seungwoo’s hand would gently fall from your shoulder as he moved it to the bare skin of your thigh. “y/n, i know exactly what you want. But are you gonna let me give it to you” he hummed as his lips grazed against your neck leaving a soft kiss under the shell of your ear.

You sat there in the booth stunted, at the question. How does he know exactly what you want, when you barely know it yourself. Is he applying sex with him is what you need? Was he applying something else? Why do you keep thinking about having sex with this vampire.

[softboywriting]

Don’t Go | Nathan Bateman | Ex Machina

Summary: One difficult boss, one contraband cat, and a whole lot of emotional turmoil. That’s your life these days. When you leave for a few months to get things settled back home before moving into the facility officially, Nathan doesn’t cope with your absence well. Upon your return you have to deal with Nathan being moodier than ever, hiding your cat Baxter in your room, and sorting out just what your relationship with Nathan is. [Light Angst] [Swearing] [Insecurity] [Daddy Kink if you squint] [Fluff] [No use of Y/N] [Sexual/Flirting Situations] [F!ReaderxNathan] [Assistant!Reader] 

Word Count: 5.2k

|Masterlist In Bio|

Four months. You're gone from Nathan's facility for four months while sorting out fully moving to Alaska with him, closing your leased apartment, and finding a home for your cat. Everything was squared away finally. All of your furniture and non personal items were sold and you were ready to move into his place in the middle of nowhere. Of course you couldn't find a home for Baxter, your cat, and you refused to put him up for adoption, so he was coming with you. 

Nathan didn't want a cat he explicitly said don't bring him but here you are in the helicopter with your bags and totes full of what you have left of your old life, and strapped in the back is Baxter in his tan cat carrier. You had to get special medication to help him stay calm but it was worth it. Surely Nathan won't kick him out once you've snuck him in. You'll just keep him in your room. 

You never see Nathan. He didn't help you carry everything in, he never saw Baxter, he didn't even leave a message. It's not until after you've unpacked the essentials and gotten Baxter settled into the bedroom that Nathan calls to you on the intercom system. 

"Meet me on the deck."

You jump, startled by the sudden break in silence. You slip out the door quickly to keep Baxter inside and head for the outdoor deck where the punching bag is hung. You round the corner of the kitchen and stop dead, eyes on the man on the deck, back to you. 

"Nathan?" You call out, walking forward carefully. It can't be. This man has hair. Quite a bit actually. But it looks like Nathan from the back. That is surely his ass. 

Nathan turns around and oh, it's definitely him. He looks so different without the buzzcut, he looks softer, sweeter. "About time you came back."

"Did I miss a day of work?" You roll your eyes. He may look softer but that snippy attitude was ever prominent. "Don't act like you missed me."

"You worked? I barely noticed." He quips, stepping down and unwrapping his hands.

You fold your arms. "So you just remembered to go shopping for groceries, to get your hand wraps, and to get the mineral water from the specialty place on your own? You just remembered that you had to eat every day? You don't need an assistant?"

"I'm an adult. Of course I can do all of that without you."

"So you definitely didn't use those alarms and reminders I set?"

He scoffs.

"Oh no, you did." You click your tongue. "Because they're linked to my tasks app and every time you shut one off I got a notification. And look!" You gesture to him. "You're not starved to death or bloody knuckled from training with no wraps!" 

Nathan rolls his eyes. 

"No come back?" 

"Fuck off." He sneers, grabbing his glasses off the table. 

You walk around the table and run a hand over his hair. "What's this?"

"Hair?" He pushes your hand away. 

"You've never had hair. Ever." You shove your hand back into his hair. It's short, but long enough you can grip the top. Curly, thick, dark. It's beautiful. It must grow like a weed, and with his genetics, you're not surprised it's this long in only four months. "Why now?" 

Nathan growls, shoving you back away from him gently. "Quit touching it!" 

"Then answer my questions!" 

"Fuck you!" 

"Fuck you too, Nathan!"

He narrows his eyes at you, glaring daggers. This is how it always is with him. Constant fighting about stupid shit because he doesn't know how to express himself around another human being eighty percent of the time. You're sure it's why he hired you, so he didn't go feral out here on his own. The other twenty percent of the time he is bearable and you actually really like that twenty percent. 

You let out a soft sigh and relax your shoulders. Yelling at each other isn't going to get you anywhere right now. You'll take the initiative and soothe the room. "Did your clippers break?" 

"Yeah." He grumbles, no longer looking at you, but to the bar behind the dining table. 

"And you didn't buy a new one when you went for groceries?" 

"I didn't go."

"What?" 

"I didn't go for groceries."

You close the gap and step in front of his line of sight. "Nathan, what have you been surviving on?"

"What was left. I've got some MREs in the office for emergencies. Well, I did." He runs a hand through his hair and turns away. "I'm fine. I'm alive, obviously." 

"So you just dismissed my alarms? Why didn't you go? I know the flight is a pain in the ass but it's better than starving. Is there nothing left?"

He walks out of the room, toward the kitchen. 

"Nathan!" You groan and let out a yell of frustration. If he ate everything and didn't replenish anything, then you're going to have to call the pilot back tomorrow and ride another two hours into the city, go shopping, then ride two hours back. 

"Fuck!"

_____________________

After a grueling day of travel and shopping you start making dinner. You've not seen hide or hair of Nathan since you found out he's been barely living for the last four months. You can't fathom why he wouldn't go out, why he wouldn't even get you to bring him something. Sure you were in Seattle for the time you were gone but you probably could have managed to get on a plane and bring him some protein bars. It just kills you, knowing he just let himself suffer. But why? To prove a point? What was it?

"Dinner is almost ready." You say, pressing the talk button on the kitchen com system. He probably isn't listening but it's worth a try. The man must be desperate for a real meal. 

As soon as you get everything plated, on the table and glasses of wine poured, Nathan appears. You can only assume he watched you on the cameras, so he knew exactly when to show up. He is always checking in on you with those cameras. It was alarming at first, when you arrived about a year ago now. But these days it's alright, a sense of security, knowing that if something were to happen he would be there in a heartbeat. 

"Steak, spinach salad with bleu cheese, and a potato." You say softly, presenting the food like a gameshow host with your hand as he sits down. 

"I can see what it is."

"Mmhmm." You stuff a fork full of spinach in your mouth. "Can you see the poison then?"

A small smile plays at the corners of his lips and you don't miss it for a millisecond. "Must be tucked into the cheese crumbles."

You grin around the rim of your wine glass. "Soaked the steak in it actually." 

"Clever." He mutters dully, biting a piece of said steak off his fork. 

You eat a few more bites in silence, just staring awkwardly at each other. You have so many questions about what he was doing while you were gone. But you know he won't answer them, not now at least. He will have to be exhausted or perhaps less sober. That actually is another question. Has he been sober for all this time? Or did he ration his alcohol?

"Good food?" 

"Fucking amazing." He says, voice barely above a whisper.

"Oh?"

"Yeah." He rubs his last bite of meat around in the bleu cheese. "You can cook like no other."

You feel a flush rise in your chest. "I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." 

"Don't get used to it." 

"Oh I won't." 

Nathan stands and takes his plate to the kitchen. "Did you get my shaver?" 

"Yes." You follow close behind and drop your plate in the sink beside his. "But I like it." 

"What?" 

"Your hair. I like it." You lean against the counter and he runs a hand over his head. "It looks... different."

Nathan rolls his eyes. 

"It's up to you, obviously. I'm sure you keep it shaved for whatever reason." You shrug and look away from him. "The shaver is in your bathroom."

"Thanks." He mutters and heads off into the house. He's going to the lab no doubt. 

_____________________

Finally two weeks later. Nathan is wasted. Gobsmacked, shit faced and three sheets to the wind. You got an allegory for it, that is this man right this second. Your chance is now, you can get his ass on the spot and start interrogating him. Well. That is if you can get him out of his lab. 

"Nathan, I have something for you." You coo softly into the com beside the door to his lab. "Something you'll like."

"Go away."

"Come on!" 

"Unless you're out there in some red panties and stockings then I'm not coming out."

You flush and close your eyes. He did not just say that. Surely he cannot mean that he actually wants to see you like that. God that's hot. Does he really want to see you like that? No. He's your boss. 

"What if I am?" 

"You're not."

"I could be."

"You aren't. Fuck off."

"You wanna see me all undressed hmm?" 

Nathan groans and opens the door, glaring you down. "You lied. Fuck off."

"No, I never said I was out here undressed. But now I have you." You shove your way into the lab office and plop down on his sofa. "You're not gonna get rid of me." 

Nathan stands at the door and sways on his feet. He seemingly is perplexed how you managed to overcome him and slip into his space. "You're a pain the ass."

"Mmm and you're a thorn in my side." You lay back on the sofa, and prop your legs up on the armrest. "C'mere, I wanna talk." 

"You wanna talk? What do I look like? One of your gal pals?" 

"Maybe with a little mascara, some eight inch pumps...yeah."

"I'll give you eight inches alright." He sinks into his desk chair and grabs a bottle from the desk to press to his lips. "What do you want?" 

You sit up and brace your elbows on your knees. "I want to know why you didn't leave here in four months."

"I didn't need to." 

"Nathan, you were living on MRE rations like a bunker crazed maniac. You barely called me, and when you did it sounded like you were doing fine. What happened?" 

"You left."

"Yeah?" You chuckle softly. "I had to settle things back home. I told you that, you knew where I went." 

Nathan takes his glasses off and sets them aside. "I think...I think I rabbit holed into my insecurities and loneliness."

You raise your eyebrows. This is going deeper than you imagined it would. "Okay. How so?" 

He tips the bottle up against his lips. "I thought, well maybe you wouldn't come back. Why would you? You got out, I let you go willingly. I felt like I just deserved to suffer alone." He shakes his head. 

"Nathan, why didn't you tell me this sooner?" 

"And make me look like a desperate fucking idiot? How would that look? Desperate lonely billionaire misses assistant so much he begs her to come back." 

"So you did miss me."

"Fuck." He rubs his palm into his eye and lets out a yell of frustration. "You're the only person I've had proper physical contact with in like three years, I've gotten attached to you, and you just don't even understand how messed up I am!"

You stand and walk over to him. "Nathan, do you have feelings for me?" 

He stares up at you, and sets his bottle aside. It's sloshes, mostly empty. "Don't play with me."

"No one's playing."

"You hate me. I'm so mean to you, and I yell at you and piss you off everyday."

You chuckle softly. "Oh yeah, that's all true. But when you're not being difficult, that's when you're incredible. You're so hot and cold I should have run away but somehow I still wanted to come home."

"Home?"

"Yeah." You run your hand over his hair and his head slumps forward. He hasn't shaved it off. It's been a few days. "You're insufferable but I can't get enough. I love how you talk, how you think, how you are always making sure I'm comfortable and happy even if you think I don't notice. I love how you look at me, glancing to make sure I'm still there, to make sure I'm real. I know how you need me."

"Don't want you to leave." He mutters, eyes heavy. 

"I'm not leaving." You kneel down, arms across his lap and he looks at you, hand going to your cheek.

He strokes his thumb over your lower lip. "Be my good girl."

"Nathan," you whisper and your heart threatens to explode and you're flushing, heat pooling between your legs. "You're really out of it."

He smiles lopsidedly, pressing his thumb between your lips and you open your mouth automatically. 

You lick the pad of his thumb and give a quick suck before pulling back and standing up. "You're way too drunk." 

"Come back here."

"I'm going to bed." You lick your lip, the taste of his thumb is salty. If he weren't wasted you would consider exploring this further. You've wondered if there would be more between the two of you. It felt natural. But he's your boss. This is your job and as much as you would like to be more with Nathan you know this has to end here. He's not a relationship guy. 

Nathan pushes up from his chair and slumps over onto the couch. God he's fucking gone. He won't even remember this in the morning. It's for the best. 

"Good night." 

_____________________

You make your way to Nathan's room with a bottle of water, two Tylenol and a banana. He's going to be so hungover it's not funny. You hadn't realized how much he was drinking until you found the empty bottle of vodka in the kitchen trash can and the rest of a small bottle of whiskey in the office trash and you had only bought both just the other day. Not to mention all the beers he sucked down while in the lab, a good six of the eight pack. Oh boy is he going to be hurting. 

"Nathan, hey," you call softly, sinking down beside him on his bed. "It's almost noon."

"Lea'me 'lone." He grumbles into his pillow, wrapping his arms around it tightly. 

You run a hand up his back, settling between his shoulder blades. "I brought water and a snack." 

He turns his head, face smushed into the pillows as he looks at you. "What happened last night?" 

"You got very drunk and drank literally everything we had. I'm not sure how you're alive." 

"Did I do anything?" 

"Nothing I wouldn't expect of you." 

He shoots you a leery glare. "The fuck's that mean?" 

You shake your head. He doesn't need to know he started spilling his guts and coming on to you more than playfully. "Nothing. You were a dick."

"I'm always a dick sweetheart. I told you that when you started."

"You did." You rub his shoulder and he groans. "Come on, get up. Have your banana, pills and water. Get a shower. You've got a video call in an hour."

"Oh fuck off." He presses his face into the pillows. "Attend for me. I want to sleep."

"It needs to be you. It's an HR meeting about hiring new staff to run diagnostics on Blue Book backlog data."

Nathan grumbles unintelligibly. 

"I'll make your favorite lunch." 

"Mm'not hungry."

"I'll join you in the shower." 

He pushes up fast, nearly knocking the Tylenol from your hand. "No take backs." 

"Nathan! I'm not actually going to shower with you! You're my boss for God's sake. I just said it for shock value to get you to roll your hungover ass out of bed. Shit."

"Yeah but no take backs." He grins and swallows back the pills you hand him. "Come on, it's not like you haven't seen me naked."

"Uh no, I most certainly have not."

"Oh yeah you have." He smirks, eyes holding yours in a challenging gaze. "You liked it too."

"What?!" You shove him and stand up, throwing the banana at his lap. "Eat your snack and get your shit together. I'm going to take a hike." 

Nathan rips his banana top off to peel it and takes a bite. "You're not gonna set up the meeting stuff?" 

"You just turn on your webcam when they call, Nathan."

"What if I need help?" He says teasingly. "You're my assistant after all."

You pinch the bridge of your nose. "Would you like me to wait until they call? You want me to stand beside your desk and click the button to answer with a video camera on? Is that it?" 

"You could sit on my lap." He pats his legs. "Keep it nice and warm for me."

You twist your face quickly into an expression of distaste before a flush begins to heat your skin. This is just Nathan. He isn't flirting. He's being an asshole to get a reaction from you. He's like a child. Don't reward bad behavior. 

"Oh you're thinking about it." He murmurs, voice dropping lower than usual. It's almost sultry. You've not heard this tone but maybe once before. "You wanna fuck your boss don't you?"

"Absolutely not." You grip the side of the door a little harsher than you mean to. Just another step and you're out of the room. Away from his eyes. Fuck. His eyes. What is that look for? It's so...commanding. 

Nathan presses the door closed and you lean against it. "You're a horrible liar."

"You're projecting."

"Am I? Or were you on your knees in front of me last night?" He raises his eyebrows. "Oh you think I don't remember? That's cute."

"You know that isn't what happened." 

"I know you let me put my thumb in your mouth. I know you licked it, sucked it, willingly." He catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger. "You really want me don't you?" 

You narrow your eyes. "Maybe I want you, but I have morals. You're my boss, I'm not going to just fuck you for no reason and I intend on keeping it that way."

Nathan drops his hand from your face. "You'll come around. You can be my employee and still fuck me. I'll allow it."

"Yeah, whatever." You pull the door open and he steps back. "Go shower. You've wasted enough time."

_____________________

 Days later you go for a supply run and come home late in the afternoon. As you haul the bags from the cart you use to get them from the helicopter to the front door you see Baxter on the sofa in the living room. He's curled up, the fireplace is on, he's living his best life. Wait. Baxter. No. 

"Bax what are you doing in here?!" You set the bags down and hurry to the fireplace to snatch the little gray cat up from his warm nap spot. "How did you-"

"You're back." Nathan says sleepily from the couch. He sits up and runs a hand through his hair. God it looks so good, it's gotten longer you swear and fuck the curls are just maddening. "You wanna tell me something?" 

"I'm sorry. I couldn't leave him with anyone and he is like my child. I couldn't just abandon him." You cradle Baxter against your chest. "I'll leave, if I have to. You can fire me."

Nathan chuckles softly. "Fire you? For having a cat?" 

"You said he couldn't come with me. You specifically said no pets under any circumstances."

"Yeah, but maybe I can make an exception for this guy." 

You set Baxter down as he begins to squirm. He hurries over to Nathan and winds around his legs. 

"Come here." Nathan pats his lap. "Come see daddy." 

Baxter jumps up and curls up on Nathan's lap, head butting his hand for attention. It's the most bizarre thing. Baxter has never taken a liking to anyone this fast. It's as if he's been living with Nathan for weeks. 

"He never likes people like this. What did you do to him?" 

Nathan strokes his hand down Baxter's back and massages his ears. "I didn't do anything. I gave him affection."

"How did you find him?" 

"He's loud." Nathan laughs, looking at you with a soft smile. "You were on a walk in the woods and I heard him crying one day-"

"Wait what? You've known about him before today?"

"Yes." He gives you a look that says you're not fooling anyone. "I've been seeing him for days now. Almost two weeks."

You groan and press your back against the fireplace. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I wanted you to tell me. I wanted to see how long you thought you could lie to me."

"I didn't lie. I never said he wasn't here."

"Very true."

"So he was meowing? That's how you found him?" 

"Mmhmm." Nathan chuckles again. "You must have forgotten to feed him before your walk. Because as soon as I gave him food he was happy."

"Fuck. I probably did." You sigh and laugh softly at yourself. "I'm terrible at hiding things."

"Yes you are." His eyes catch yours and you glare at him. "What's the look for? You jealous?" He pats his leg where Baxter isn't stretched out. "You wanna sit on Daddy's lap too?"

You cover your face with your hand. "For fucks sake you're a freak. No, I would not like to sit. I'd like help with these groceries." You point to the long forgotten bags by the door. 

Nathan peeks over the back of the couch. 

"Come on," you shoo Baxter off his lap and as you turn away to go get the bags, Nathan pulls you backwards down onto his legs. "Nathan."

He chuckles deeply against your back. "What?"

"I'm not sitting on your lap."

"Mmm, yes you are." 

"Nathan," you sigh softly and stand up just long enough to turn around and straddle his legs, facing him on the couch. It stuns him silent for a second as he stares up at you in bewilderment. "This what you want?"

He grins big, hands running up your thighs. "Just remember that you escalated this, not me."

"I just sat down."

"Oh no sweetheart, you sat down with a purpose." He pulls you flush against him. "I thought you had morals."

"I do." You lean in and his lips part instinctively. "I haven't done anything against them."

Nathan grips your ass and you collapse against him, foreheads together. "You're pushing it."

"I just wanna see you weak, Bateman."

He narrows his eyes and shoves you off his lap. "Little late for that." He mutters as he retreats into the house and you climb up off the floor. If he thinks you're not going to push him to admit he wants you more than sex then he has something else coming. 

_____________________

Two days later you're making breakfast and out of the corner of your eye you see Nathan walk in. You pay no mind. It's not unusual that he comes and grabs a water or a cup of tea before breakfast. You turn, plates in hand to put the eggs on and the moment you see Nathan you drop them. 

He shaved. Holy fucking shit he shaved his beard very close and his hair is still grown out. He doesn't have his glasses on and who...who the fuck is this? How does one person literally shapeshift? 

"Oh fuck, are you okay?" Nathan looks down at the shattered plates. "What happened?" 

"What- you! What happened?!" You gesture wildly to his face. "Who are you?!" 

He laughs, straight up laughs at you. "Is it that bad?"

"Bad? I wouldn't call it bad." You run a hand over your hair and look around for a tea towel to pick the glass up with safely. "It's not bad." You can't help but continuously glance at him. 

Nathan grabs a large bowl from the cabinet on his side of the kitchen and you both kneel down to clean up the glass. "You like it." 

"It's different."

"Good different."

"Yeah." You sit back on your heels and take another good look. "I almost couldn't believe it was you." 

Nathan drops the last piece of glass into the bowl and brushes his hands off on his sweater. "It's been a while since I went this short. Ten years maybe."

"Damn."

He smiles and it's like he's a different man. You cannot stop staring. It's all familiar, like if you were seeing his brother, or maybe twin. It's the same teeth, same turn of his lips, but that beard being nearly gone makes him so...fucking attractive. Not that he wasn't attractive before, you dug the buzzcut and beard combo, you dug the beard and grown out hair combo. But this is...this is hard.

"Hey, your eggs are burning." 

"What! Fuck!" You scramble to your feet and sure enough the sunny side up eggs are hard yolked and brown around the edges. 

Nathan dumps the bowl of glass in the trash and places the bowl in the sink. "Let me make something."

"I- what? You?"

"Yeah." He wraps his hand around yours on the pan handle and moves it back off of the burner. "I can cook y'know. I did it a lot before you moved in."

You step back and let him carry the pan to the trash. "Is it April fool's day?" 

"No? It's November." 

"You're being nice to me."

"Am I?" 

"Yes?" You fold your arms across your chest. "Suspiciously nice."

Nathan turns and quirks one eyebrow up. "Suspiciously nice? I don't think I'm being suspiciously nice. Maybe...considerate."

"Not a word I would associate with you either." 

"Well, I can just have a power bar and get out of your way if you like." He folds his arms, mimicking your pose. 

You chew on your lip. "Are you okay? Seriously, you've never offered to cook and you've managed to not insult me for a solid ten minutes. You even helped me clean up the glass. You're not...you."

"I had a good night's sleep."

"So you've been a dick because you haven't slept properly since I met you?" 

"Maybe." 

"Maybe? Okay y'know what." You raise your hands and let out a little laugh. "I get it. You are trying to get me to sleep with you. You have been for weeks and I can't just sleep with someone without being in a relationship. You've changed your appearance, knowing I'd like it. You're being nice, acting like you're some normal guy as if you think I'm into that. You just want to get in my pants so bad that-" 

"Or maybe I am trying to be a better person because I realized I'm going to run you out of my life if I keep being the way I am." He runs a hand over his hair and tugs. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come on so strong."

You're floored. He's left you speechless. Never has he said he's sorry, for anything. 

"You don't have to say anything. It's fine. I understand that I'm a lot to handle. You have been so patient, and understanding in this last year, and you go toe to toe with me and you don't stand for my shit, so I think you must have been put in my life to force me to make a change. I've been trying to get in your pants, yes, but I don't just want that. I want you." 

"Oh."

"I've been thinking about this since you left, and even since you came back. It's consumed me for the last five months and I-" He bites his lip and looks away from you. "I'm in love with you."

Your eyes widen. "You....Nathan..."

"It's fine, I understand if you don't love me. I've been awful and selfish and-" 

"You're really in love with me?"

"I don't waste words, you know that." 

You step forward and reach out to touch his cheek. The beard is so short, still there, but not bushy in the least. "I love you too. Even if you're a pain in the ass and a little egotistical." 

"So I don't have to be disgustingly nice?"

"I didn't fall for disgustingly nice Nathan."

"Thank fuckin God." He grabs your hips and pulls you against him. "Felt like I was playing house." 

You giggle and he groans. "Nathan."

"I love your laugh." He grips your hair and tilts your head back, kissing your throat. "I love how you say my name." 

A little moan escapes your lips as he scrapes his teeth along your neck. "Hey, easy, relationship first and sex later."

"Mmm. What do you want sweetheart? A date? Gifts? Long walks in the moonlight?" He leans back and looks at you. "I've got a proposal for you."

"What's that?" 

"Be my girlfriend. No, be my wife." He bites his lip and cradles your face. "Yeah, you'd be a damn good wife."

You raise your eyebrows. "Not sure I like the implications of that." 

"You don't like the implication that you'll be the richest woman in this country, own half of Blue Book, have everything you could ever want, and be a goddess to a god?" 

"A goddess to a god huh?" 

He smiles and presses his head against yours. "That's right. Besides, we already have a kid." 

"We do?"

"Mmhmm. Baxter. I'm his daddy and he knows it."

"Oh hell. Shut up." You roll your eyes. 

"I'm your daddy too." He hauls you against him, hands on your ass. "You like it, admit it."

"No!" 

"Yeah you do." He kisses across your jaw and down your neck. "It's okay, it's just us you can admit it." His tongue lavishes against your sensitive pulse point. "Come on, tell me you like it."

"Nathan," you moan softly and he rolls his hips against you. "Please."

"Just say it." 

"Never."

He chuckles and pulls back, leaving your neck damp and aching. "I'll get it out of you. I know you wanna say it but you're too shy." He bumps his nose against yours and your head swims "I will bide my time."

"Yeah, a long time." You press your lips to his and he hums softly. "I'll think about your proposal."

He chases your lips as you pull back. "I'll be waiting."

"Relationship first." You run a hand over his hair and push him back. "Gotta show me you truly want more than what's in my pants." 

"Absolutely." He pushes his sleeves up. "I'll be the best husband." 

"Let's stick to boyfriend for now."

"Husband sounds better." He grabs a clean pan from the rack over the stove. "So, breakfast?" 

You hop up on the counter and watch as he moves about easily. "I'll take whatever you got."

"I've got a lot." He smirks and you roll your eyes. "But let's start with breakfast."

"Yeah, let's."

End 

-----------

Header by delicate-venus

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you read or enjoyed and support content creators like myself - A

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted works.*****

[lykegenia]

The Dragon Knight’s New Clothes

The speed with which Davion left Hauptstadt left him no time to pick up clothes, so now he's back to square one and very much missing enough layers to cover up his... secrets. When he and his companions stumble on a farmstead his prayers seem answered, but there's also the other matter, the reason why he had to flee Hauptstadt in the first place, and the fear that it will happen again. Set between Episodes 2 & 3. 

Hints of Davion x Mirana

--

Read on AO3

--

Normally, Davion is perfectly fine with silence in his travelling companions. The life of a dragon knight requires long hours on the road, not all of which can be filled with talk, even on the days where there’s no hunt to keep the quiet. But normality seems to have taken its butterfly wings elsewhere for him lately, and the current silence is getting awkward. It’s just him and Mirana. Marci took Sagan scouting shortly after sunrise and left them alone together, and while she seems content with their current situation, she’s also the only one between them wearing clothes. She doesn’t have to worry about the strength of errant breezes finding their way to places, and she has the weight of a weapon at her side as insurance against any trouble they might run into. Her feet aren’t slipping around sockless and blistered in too-large boots taken off a dead man.

A man he tore to pieces.

He swallows, glances to his companion to take his mind off the remembered taste of blood in his mouth. Her shoulders are loose, her gaze soft and hair flowing where the wind lifts it back from her face, the unassuming brown sparking copper in the dappled sunlight. He swallows again.

“Soooooo…”

“Is there a problem?” she asks, slowing a little. A quizzical knot appears between her brows and he raises his hands in surrender.

“No problem!” he says. “It’s just… you’re quiet.”

“I was enjoying the peace.” If there’s a note of annoyance for his interruption it flashes too quickly for him to catch it.

“You must not get much chance to just stop and smell the flowers,” he supposes, after a moment. “Being a princess and everything.”

“There are always little things, if you let yourself look for them – but you’re right that my duties rarely allowed for anything more.”

Allowed. Past tense.

“You never snuck away to try something more fun?” He grins, and when she only quirks a brow at him he clears his throat. “No, never mind, I think I know the answer to that… I’m sure Marci will be back soon.”

She throws him a smirk. “Are you worried about her?”

“Actually,” he says, letting his thoughts tease out, “I’ve been wondering about you two.”

“What about us?” The smirk draws in, a warning that seems to dim the sunlight itself.

He shrugs. “She takes your orders, but you don’t exactly treat her like a servant or a squire, and you have that –” he waggles his fingers experimentally – “hand language. You must have known her a long time.”

She turns away from him, her eyes going to a bird cleaning its beak on the branches above them as her arms fold in a loose cross over her chest.

“We came to the Nightsilver Woods together, if that’s what you’re asking,” she says. “We were already companions before then.”

“Just the two of you?”

Something in the memory pains her. “There was no one else left.”

“What about Sagan?” he asks.

“A gift from my goddess, so that I might do Her work.” The smile comes back, and he’s glad for it. “He was adorable as a cub – so fluffy. He used to chase the reflections from my arrowheads.”

“I never had a pet,” he confesses, without quite meaning to. A memory of a mongrel begging at the back door for scraps threatens to pull him in, but it was a long time ago and his mind can’t conjure the dog’s appearance. It probably ended up like the rest of his village, anyway.

Mirana’s eyes find his face, too perceptive, too understanding. Before he can think of a new subject to distract her, he notices the birds have all gone silent. The undergrowth rustles nearby, concealing something huge. He darts forward, fists ready in place of a weapon, but an instant later he catches a flash of white and relaxes in recognition at the wide, blunt head that pushes out from among the trees.

“Sagan!” Mirana ducks forward, arms outstretched, and the tiger butts her in the shoulder, purring like an avalanche as Marci slides down his back.

A brief conversation follows in the silent language the two women use between themselves, the signs made by their hands too fast for Davion to follow. He waits patiently, even dares to give Sagan a scratch under the chin, his fingers inches from the mouth full of sabre teeth the length of his hand.

Finally, Mirana turns to him. “There’s a farmstead about five miles west of here. If we’re welcomed it would be a good place to get some rest.” She throws a casual look over him and he resists the urge to tug the too-small cloak further around his body. “Perhaps we might also find you some better clothes.”

“I’d like that.” What he likes less is her singular ability to make him aware of his body – and not in the fun way.

She starts to lead off down the path but stops, sighs, her fingers going to pinch between her brows in an attitude of long-suffering patience.

“Ride Sagan,” she says. Orders, really. “It’ll save your feet.”

He can’t help but lean closer, grinning. “That’s surprisingly nice of you, princess.”

“And it’ll stop you slowing us down.”

He chuckles at that. Even in the few days they’ve spent travelling together he’s learned the difference between her wry mock threats and the times she truly intends to bite. As he winces over to tiger and vaults into the saddle, he almost misses the look exchanged between his two companions.

“How do I, uh, steer?” he asks. The neck in front of him is too short, the shoulders much broader than those of a horse, and there aren’t any reins.

Mirana smirks at him. “You don’t.”

--

They reach the farmstead as the sun is on its last descent towards the distant hills. Barley stalks sway gently under the wind as they climb the path to the house, and when a young teen tending vegetables by the back door spots them, Davion can hardly blame them for dropping their rake and running inside. The three of them don’t exactly make for an ordinary bunch of travellers, especially not with Sagan padding along behind them. There’s a stag slung over the saddle, intended as a sort of offering by Mirana, who took it down with one of her arrows before he even knew it was there. While most would follow the custom of hospitality without such a gift, they have only a few coins from the bandits he killed, and they need more than just shelter for the night.  

“Better let me do the talking,” he mutters as they pass into the yard. It’s not the first time he’s had to explain to some poor local that he’s not a marauding thug, and that was without the daunting presence of the war tiger at his back.

For a moment, Mirana considers, but nods and hangs back, passing a hand over her holstered bow as if to reassure herself it’s still there. With another self-conscious tug on his attire to make sure his decency is covered, he advances towards the farmhouse’s front door and as he passes a soft fragrance of thyme and lavender rises from pots placed beneath the windows, though it’s too early in the year for the buzzing of bees. A memory tickles at the back of his mind but he pushes it away before the herby scent can be tainted with ash, and in the instant it takes to centre himself the door swings open to a tall, broad woman with steel-grey hair and an iron brow who steps out just far enough to not appear suspicious.

“You’re an uncommon bunch, right enough,” she comments, her face half shadowed by the overhanging thatch. “What business have you?”

Davion offers her his most winning smile. “We’re travelling from Hauptstadt. If you have enough spare for a hot meal and room in your barn for the night, we’d appreciate it.” He gestures to his companions. “My friend here managed to take down a deer, and we’ll happily share it with you.”

“Half of it,” Mirana corrects, with a hand on her tiger’s shoulder. “And the hide. Sagan needs to eat too.”

The farmer passes a calculating look over them, lingering longest on Davion and the scars so clearly visible across his shoulders, but in the end he guesses their fearsome appearance works in their favour. Their would-be host shrugs. If such travellers wanted to pillage and burn, they’d have no need for subterfuge first.

“We’re always happy to have well-mannered guests, especially ones with news of the road,” she says. “At this time of year the stock is out so your cat will be fine in the barn. Just keep him away from the back field, I’ve ewes ready to drop and they don’t a need a fright to help them along.”

Mirana nods. “Thank you. Is there somewhere we can put the deer?”

If the farmer is surprised by Marci’s strength as she hauls the carcass off Sagan’s back, she doesn’t show it, only points to the gate set into the far wall to show the way to the outbuildings. “And you always dress like that, do you?” she asks a moment later, still eyeing Davion.

He glances down at himself as if it’s going to suddenly change the nature of his attire, but the princess answers before he can open his mouth.

“There was trouble with bandits.”

“Only for your friend here?” The farmer’s eyes narrow.

“We met on the road,” she says smoothly. “If you have some spare clothes, my companion would appreciate the return of her cloak.”

The farmer accepts the half-truth with a solemn shake of her head. “Some of my late husband’s things should fit you, though he never kept quite so trim as you seem to be.”

She beckons them into the house. Davion follows, ducking under the lintel to avoid knocking his head, but pauses when he realises Mirana isn’t behind him.

“I’m going to bed Sagan down,” she tells him. “I’ll join you shortly.”

He smiles, nodding, and resists the urge to reach for her as she turns away. Inside, the whitewashed walls split the house into two, a kitchen with a large, scrubbed table in the back, and a parlour of sorts with a gathering of chairs around a large fireplace that overlooks the garden. An old woman snores in the armchair closest to the window, but she doesn’t stir at the prospect of visitors, even though the stairs leading off this main room creak under Davion’s weight, the wood worn to a polish by generations of use.

“Tayran,” his host calls out as a young woman appears from one of the upper rooms, “go help your brother with the veggies, will you? We’ve three more mouth to feed tonight.”

Tayran, a few years younger than Davion and sporting the same square jaw and brown eyes as her mother, nods and ducks along the hallway, but not before she’s let her gaze rake along the expanse of his muscles not covered by Marci’s cloak. The smile he offers in return is friendly enough, but not encouraging. He needs the clothes more than he needs someone to take them off again.

Seemingly oblivious to the exchange, his host has gone on ahead to the main bedroom and has taken a key to a heavily locked chest in the corner by the washstand. She digs through it, muttering, though he notices she never quite fully turns her back to him, and after a moment she stands again, with a shirt, breeches, and quilted jerkin draped over her arm. After a pause where she casts a critical eye at his boots, she stumps over to a dresser and pulls a rolled pair of wool socks from one of the drawers as well.

“These are the best I can do,” she says, handing the ensemble to him. “Afraid we’ve no salve for those badly fitting boots of yours, though.”

“It’s no problem,” he replies. “I really can’t thank you enough.”

She huffs. “You can pay it forward. That’s what decent folk do. I’d best go see if yon slip of a girl has managed to get any meat off that stag yet – there’s plenty of room to change in the barn,” she adds, as she chivvies him from the room.

--

Dinner a few hours later is a crowded affair, the family’s meagre supply of chairs not enough to accommodate their guests, which means Davion’s legs are folded awkwardly around the tree stump serving him as a stool, his knees already bruised from all their accidental knocks to the underside of the table. The dim light for their meal comes from the fire and from a storm lantern hanging in the rafters in the centre of the room, and in the darkness beyond this the house groans and creaks as it settles for the night. After the disdain Mirana showed for the inn in Hauptstadt he wondered how she would react to such simple surroundings, but she nods graciously as their host ladles her a portion of stew and doesn’t complain that it’s being served with a wooden spoon. Marci is already tucking into hers as if she hasn’t eaten for days.

He smiles down at his bowl. The stew itself tastes good, the venison paired well with bacon and fresh vegetables, and it’s so thick the slice of bread he’s been given can be planted into it like a battle standard. Their host seems satisfied with their enthusiasm for her food, too. She has yet to sit down, her own portion left off as she pours a clear liquid into a motley collection of cups.

“Don’t knock this back,” she warns as she passes the drinks around. “It’ll beat you round the head like a club and go through your pockets for loose change.”

Davion can’t resist. He makes a great show of tasting the liquor. “A fine vintage, ma’am. Comparable to an Icewrack white, I’d say.”

Opposite him, Mirana narrows her eyes, like she wants to kick him under the table.

“My, you’ve expensive tastes,” their host rumbles. “You won’t find anything half so fancy in these parts.”

“Oh? Shame.”

“Where have you been that serves Icewrack white?” the elder asks from the head of the table. It’s the first Davion’s heard her speak, and her voice is cracked with age and suspicion.

“Oh, a few places,” he answers, careful. “I’ve spent most of my life travelling.”

“You must have many stories,” says Tayran, leaning forward on her elbows while her younger brother rolls his eyes next to her.

“Some, I suppose.” Davion shrugs. “My – uh, I had a friend who was much better than telling them.” He can’t mention having a squire; it would invite too many questions.

The elder seems content with him, but then her eye swivels towards Mirana. “What about you?”

“Mama,” their host chides. “We don’t interrogate our guests.”

Mirana sets down her wooden spoon. “It’s alright. We came from further west, on business.”

“Wrong time o’ year to be travelling the high passes.”

“My business could not wait,” she replies. Not for the first time, he wonders what calamity must have drawn her from her woods, put the grit in her voice as she speaks of it.

“And what about you?” Tayran asks him. Her eyelashes flutter. “If you’re looking for work you’d be far more likely to find it back in Hauptstadt, or on one of the farms in the valley.”

He disarms her with a grin. “And leave my companions without a defender? My honour wouldn’t allow it.” He shrugs elaborately. “I’ve got some friends near Levinthal who should be able to help me after I go that way.”

“More people who owe you favours?” Mirana asks, casually enough, though it’s clear she hasn’t forgiven him for the cockroaches that came included with the last one.

“It’s likely just as well you travel together,” their host interrupts. “There’s rumours of some sort of monster roving about these hills. Someone found bodies ripped apart not a week’s journey from here, and whatever it was killed a dragon knight an’ all. Dangerous times, these.”

The chill that grips Davion’s spine doesn’t go away, nor the knot in his stomach that feels like another gang leader’s ring just waiting to be hocked up onto the table. Mirana and Marci both have stilled to watch him, but he doesn’t meet their gazes. Instead, he draws in a breath and stretches his best tavern-pleasing smile across his revulsion.

“Thanks for the warning,” he says. “We’ll be extra careful.”

The conversation moves on after that, well into the night. On isolated farms like this one, travellers may bring the only news of the outside world for weeks, and new stories of far off places are always welcome. Finally, drowsing under the effect of the wine and the full meal and with the supply of fire logs running low, Mirana rises to make their excuses for the night. They have an early start in the morning, and don’t want to trespass any further, she says. Davion follows.

In the doorway, however, an unexpected hand reaches out in a caress across his chest that stops him before he can make it out into the cold. His breath fogs as he turns, finding Tayran in the shadowed alcove where the family keeps their coats, the smile on her face one he’s seen on more than one young woman on his travels.

“It’ll be cold tonight, you know,” she purrs.

From the corner of his eye he sees Mirana pause at the sound of the voice, but when he turns fully she’s already resumed her pace, perfectly measured, her shoulders straight, and he wonders if he imagined it. Tayran’s hand moves up to cup his cheek, to bring his attention back to her.

“If you want a better offer than a draughty old barn, I’d be happy to oblige. If you’re not already spoken for, that is?”

“You mean with –?” He coughs. “No, I’m not. We’re not, ah – like that.”

She steps closer. “Good. Would you like to hear more about my offer?”

--

When he lets himself into the barn a little time later, bright moonlight spills around him, though his eyes take less time to adjust to the unlit interior than he expects. An oil lamp glows in the far corner.

“Your ‘better offer’ fell through then?” a voice chimes through the darkness, low with disdain.

He finds Mirana with Sagan’s head in her lap, running a soft brush over the tiger’s fur, her scowl and the sour curl of her mouth revealing the nature of whatever else she wants to say. She doesn’t look at him. His own anger rises in response.

“I didn’t take the offer,” he snaps, quiet enough not to disturb Marci. “Not that you have any reason to care.”

“I didn’t want to waste time looking for you in the morning.”

But the gaze fixed on him now flickers with calculation, the same astuteness she turned on him after he let the elf go, as if he’s a puzzle box with no clear solution.

“She was a pretty enough thing,” she comments as he unfolds a horse rug over the straw as a makeshift bedsheet. “Many men would have gone after her.”

“Yeah, well – I’ve said it before.” He throws his head down on his folded arm. “I’m not most men.”

Now more than ever, he thinks ruefully as silence descends again. If he were the sort of person who believed the gods cared at all he’d wonder if they turned him into… whatever he is… as a punishment for hubris. For a little harmless flirting. He yanks the blanket up to his chin and rolls over – he’s slept in less comfortable places, but that doesn’t make the cold, prickly ground any less frustrating. A bed would have been much better. A bed with a bit of fun thrown in, for the both of them, and yet he chose to leave, and he’s going to go mad trying to work out why.

“You’re afraid,” Mirana says into the quiet. “Worried that what happened at Hauptstadt – what you became – that it’ll happen again.”

After a long moment, he unclenches his hand and sighs. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“For what good it will do, I can watch over you, if you like.”

He shifts. The offer feels unfamiliar. A dragon knight is sworn to protect others, and though the rational part of him knows if he does turn she’ll be dead before she realises it, there’s a warm glow of comfort from the assurance in her voice. She asks nothing of him, only honesty.

“If the transformation happens…”

“I’ll shoot you.” He hears the smirk.

“Thank you.” He squeezes his eyes shut, willing away the images his mind conjures, her blood on his hands, and prays to whichever gods are listening that if the worst comes her draw will be fast enough.

[shadoedseptmbr]

Kiss prompt 24. a kiss on the inside of the wrist.

This continues on from here: 

Shore Leave part two

Kaidan set the griddle to heat and mixed batter while Aedan grabbed the plates.  He watched her wander back to the window and wondered for a moment if they were going to re-enact the first minutes of their morning all over again.  

But instead she just stretched out the shoulder she’d broken, turning her face up to the warmth streaming in through the glass as she flexed her arms, behind her back and then over her head.  The light caught in the fine golden hair that sprinkled her skin and she was softly haloed as she worked out the stiffness, every movement lithe and smooth.   

A spat from the griddle called him back from his admiration.  

As the first batch of pancakes started to cook, he went to go clean up the dried out remains of his first attempt at breakfast.

 “Don’t throw those away, they’re perfectly good.”  She’d snuck up on him on cat light feet.

“They’re congealed. It’ll take me ten minutes to make pancakes, you don’t have to eat cold eggs.”

"They’re fine."  Aedan snagged the pan from him and deftly dumped the cold eggs into a carton of noodles they’d left on the counter the night before.  He tried to snatch the carton away from her but she danced away grinning and stuffed a bite in her mouth.

"Who raised you, wolves?" He wanted to take it back as soon as he said it but she chortled around her mouthful.

"Worse.  Nuns.” Her voice went crisp, and she looked down her snubbed nose, raising one slanty eyebrow.  “Waste is a sin, Kaidan Elek Alenko.”

“I probably shouldn’t find that sexy, should I?”

“Ooh, no,” she wrinkled her nose.  “Anything but a nun-kink.”

Playful Aedan Shepard was a hundred kinds of delightful and Kaidan suddenly had the urge to see how many faces he could get her to make. “Until a second ago, it wasn’t a problem.”  He watched her out of the corner of his eye as he poured batter into a hot pan, “Now...priest-kink…?”

“Uhhhgh.” He was rewarded in full as she pushed aside the hideous noodle combo and scrunched her whole face up, “Noo, why?” 

“My, uh...my mom used to watch this vid series when I was a kid.  There was one guy in the collar...”  He grinned as her eyebrows lifted.

“Oh….*actor* priest-kink is very different.  Totally acceptable.”  

“Good to know.” He knocked the container into the trash with a tiny push.

“You think I won’t go after that?”

“There is actual maple syrup in that cabinet, please go find it and torment me after we eat?” he resorted to pleading.

“Only because you’ve broken out the big sad eyes.”  She relented and found the canned syrup.  “Hey, you spent a lot of money getting this place stocked on top of everything.  You’re gonna let me split the bill, right?”

“I, uh.  Yeah.  If you want.  You could just let me treat you.” Kaidan kept his eyes on the griddle as he flipped the cakes onto plates  and poured out more batter.  He should probably eat one while the rest cooked; he could feel his energy sapping as he stood over the stove.  The abuse he’d given his amp on the Citadel kept catching up with him.

“I could but I’m not gonna.  Beach was my idea and you could have just found us some hole in the wall motel.”

“Doesn’t seem right for you to have to pay for my sensibilities.” 

“Oh, well, if we’re just here because you’re delicate…”  There was a definite tease in her voice and he nodded solemnly.

“Very.”

“Hmm.”  She slid her arms around his waist and laid her head between his shoulders.  “I really like it.  And those smell really good.”  

He pressed his spatula free hand against hers.  “Couple more minutes.”  He chuckled at her light whine.  “Fruit juice in the cooler if you don’t want coffee.” 

“Beer in the cooler, too.”

“Not with pancakes,” he admonished as he spread a layer of butter on the first couple layers.  

“No fun at all.”   He eyed her curvy backside as she dug around the bottles.

“I am so much fun.”  He added the last of the batter before he spun around to catch her and twisted the energy around him to boost her onto the island behind him and bury his face in her neck as she giggled, her hands full with the bottle and glasses.  

He was tracing a line up to her ear when the room swung around on him.

 He dropped his grip on her to brace his hands against the stone counter.  

“Hey.” The bottle and glasses clattered before she put her hands on his chin and lifted his eyes to meet hers.  “Oof, nope.  Go sit down.”

“I’m okay.” He protested as she pushed him towards the barstool. 

“Uhhunh.  Pull the other one and I’ll break 5’7” next physical. Go sit.  I can flip those before they burn.”  She slid down, filching the spatula from his loose grip and flipped the cakes over, just a hair browner than he normally let them get.  

He poured and sipped at the juice she’d set out.  “So much for fun.” he finally muttered as she finished drizzling syrup across the two plates.

“I’m the one who didn’t let you eat this morning.  Open up.”  

Scowling, he pulled his face away from the offering, “I can feed…”

“Sure you can, but this way?  We’re still having a little fun.”  She straddled his knees and sat down, the loaded fork held carefully over the plate to catch drips.

“I guess.”

“Hey, they don’t call me tactically brilliant for nothin’.” she smirked as he rolled his eyes and took the bite.

Kaidan chewed while Aedan took one for herself and had to smile at the way she closed her eyes in bliss.  He was pretty sure he’d heard her make that noise a few hours before, but it hadn’t been quite that loud.

“Worth the wait?”

“You have no idea, holy fuck.”

The juice was already catching him up as he took another offered bite, he chewed for a minute before sighing.  “I know better.” As the next bite came, he tilted his head to press his lips, still a little sticky from the last, against the blue veins in her wrist.

She nuzzled against his cheek, her own mouth still a little slick with butter as she set the plate aside.   “God forbid you don’t have every vulnerable point on lockdown every single second, hmm?   I got your back, sweetheart.”  She paused a second, adding softly, “Just like you had mine when I should have let you eat.”

He wrapped one arm around her, taking the fork away to set it on the counter with the plate. “This...this is real, isn’t it?”

“This?”

“Aedan.” He’d overstretched more than his endurance this morning.

“Yeah.”  She sat back up and met his gaze.  “Yeah, I think it is.” She cradled his face with her thumbs brushing his cheekbones as he cupped the back of her head, looking up at her.  “Not gonna lie, I kind of thought you’d get tired of me by now but...we’re...I…” Her face scrunched again, this time in frustration and dropped her forehead against his. “I want more time.”

Three days, three months, or three years, he couldn’t imagine ever getting tired of this. Kaidan spread his other hand out over the old scar on her thigh.  “Not getting rid of me that easy.”  

They’d have to drag him away.

[legoshi-plz]

Pretenses (Louis x Reader)

Summary: Royal AU. Louis is a spoiled prince and you are a clumsy maid. Prince!Louis x Canine!Dog!Reader

AN: I’ve been writing this for like ever and I finally started on chapter 2 so I feel it’s time to go ahead and post this. This will be a multichapter series 💕

///////////

You were fired. You were so fired.

You knew damn well you weren’t allowed in the kitchen at this time. Your kind wasn’t allowed to use the kitchen until nightfall. It was the agreement the Royal court made over half a century ago when they first began to let Carnivores staff stay within palace grounds. They were allowed free range of the kitchen before sunrise and after nightfall but never in between. During the day, the kitchen was nearly entirely ran by a staff of Gazelles. They cooked and served the royal family exclusively as it had been for years and they had quite the aversion to all Carnivores. Canines especially.

You knew you were risking one of the best gigs you’d ever happened across going into the kitchen during the day but you were sure the Gazelles were on break and assumed it was a calculated risk. Boy were you bad at math.

You had snuck into the kitchen countless times when the Gazelles took their routine hour break right after serving the royal court lunch. There was a group of younger carnivores (badgers who tended the gardens) who came to you with gripes of hunger, knowing you were easily the best cook amongst the Carnivore staff. You agreed as always and set off to the kitchen to make a quick stew that would hold them over until nightfall as well be simple enough to prepare and clean up before the Gazelles returned from their break.

You had finished the stew and prepared to package it up to sneak out when two Gazelles returned to the kitchen unexpectedly. It hadn’t been the first time someone had come back early but you usually used your keen hearing to get out of dodge before hand. This time you weren’t so lucky.

You hightailed it out of there but not before they saw your face. It was over for you.

As expected you were called into the head of the kitchen’s office. An older, especially rigid Gazelle named Mrs. Stallworth. She was as mean and particular as they come, her disgust towards Carnivores not concealed in the slightest. In her office she was accompanied by an even older alpaca, Madam Peak, the head mistress of all royal staff regardless of division.

“Come in girl and stop loitering by the door!” Mrs. Stallworth snapped. You immediately approached her desk, sitting once she motioned to the chair in front of her.

“Look, I am going to ask you this one time and one time only, Dog, and if you lie to me, you won’t live to tell another,” the Gazelle sneered and you felt your heart drop.

“Were you in the kitchens today while the staff grazed?”

“Y-Yes ma’am,”

“Were you cooking using unauthorized food items not rationed for Carnivores’ consumption?”

“Yes ma’am,”

“Are you aware this is a volatile offense punishable by execution?”

“I- um, execution?”

“Enough of the dramatics, Marta,” The alpaca said gently, placing a hand on Mrs. Stallworth’s shoulder.

“Fine. Did you or did you not make this?” Stallworth produced a jar from behind her desk containing your stew. You nodded hesitantly.

“Thought so. What the hell did you put in this? Be specific,” You listed off the ingredients automatically, the recipe ingrained in your memory.

Once you were finished, Stallworth looked to her left, coming to a silent agreement with Madam Peak.

“You scrub the cobblestones with the rest of the domestic canine, right?” You nodded hastily.

“That’s grueling work, hard on the back and worse on the joints. Murder on the hands and knees as well, yeah?” She didn’t wait for an response.

“Look, you’re lucky you’re a small dog. Domesticated too. Anyone else would have been on the streets by now but I don’t believe in wasting talent when there’s far too little to be found in this world.” Stallworth said, her eyes boring into yours. You began to squirm in your seat under her gaze.

“There’s a position for you in the kitchen, if you want it. It won’t be an easy job, you’ll do all of the grunt work and you will not be treated as an equal. But you will be the first Carnivore to ever hold such a position. What do you say?” She looked at you expectedly and you realized she actually wanted you to speak this time.

“D-do I have a choice?”

“No, your only other option is termination and banishment from the palace. Report to the kitchens in the morning 20 minutes before dawn. You start tomorrow.” Stallworth sneered.

“T-thank-”

“You’re dismissed.”

////////

“Another day in paradise, huh Y/N?” Two Gazelles giggled as you reentered th kitchen in utter exhaustion. You had just been tasked with moving bag after bag of heavy flour from the stock room to the kitchen and you could feel every muscle throb in protest.

It’s effectively been about 2 months since you began your position in the kitchen and it was everything Mrs. Stallworth had warned and more. The work was seemingly never ending and you almost always got stuck transporting ingredients from the storage pantry to the kitchen. When you weren’t doing that, you were doing prep work or being used as a taste tester.

“You canines are pure muscle, it’ll go straight through you. Us Gazelles have to watch our figures or we’ll blow right up,” they’d whine before stuffing whatever dish they were making down your throat.

The job wouldn’t be so exhausting if it weren’t for the fact that after slaving endlessly for the Gazelles all day, you had to turn around and cook for the Carnivores as well. Though you hate to admit it, you had gained quite a bit of knowledge about nutrition during your time in the kitchen and tried to pass it on to your Carnivore brethren. They were less concerned about the actual nutritional aspect and were content with that fact that your food taste good.

“I’m not taking that to him! Find someone else!” One of the Gazelles screeched, pushing a tray of food away from her.

“Well I’m surely not taking it to him! Besides, it’s your own fault for sleeping with him!” Her friend retorted pushing the tray near her and walking off. This kitchen was never short of drama, that was for sure.

“Dog!” The Gazelle turned around to face you.

“My name’s not Dog,”

“Do you know my name?” She prompted. Shit, she had you there.

“Thought so. Now I need you to take the Prince his dinner. He’s under the weather and the food contains his medicine so he’ll probably refuse it. If that happens just show your fangs and threaten to eat him,” she said shoving the tray into your arms.

“I don’t have fan-”

“Better be off before the food gets cold,” She chirped, rushing off. You sighed and began your hike up to the royal chambers.

It took what seemed like an eternity to climb the countless flights of stairs until you reached the Prince’s bedroom, the royal chambers located impossibly far from the Kitchen headquarters. You began to knock on the door when you realized you had never interacted with a royal before. Had never really seen one in person. The Canines were given strict orders to stay out the way of anyone important and the Royals definitely could be considered important.

“Come in,” a raspy voice called. You proceeded to enter what was nothing less than the most extravagant room you’d ever seen in your life. In the middle of an enormous canopy bed was a stag. He looked increadibly small surround by the lush bedding.

“A Carnivore? And to what do I owe this visit? Heard the crowned Prince had fallen ill so they sent you to finish me off? They could have at least sent one of a formidable size, this is just insulting,” he sneered, his voice nasally with congestion.

“I-I’m from the kitchens, here to give you your lunch, my- um- liege?” You didn’t really know how to address a royal since no one ever thought it’d be worth the proper training for Carnivores.

“Dogs don’t work in the kitchen,”

“This one does. I’m.... new,” you said stepping forward.

“Clearly. Leave the tray by the door.” He snarled, turning on his side. You assumed you were supposed to take that as a sign of dismissal.

“I have to make sure that you eat, sire,” you began to walk towards his bed slowly as to not frighten him.

“Can’t you even follow simple instructions?” He glared at you. You remained silent, still holding the tray. Seeing you weren’t going away that easily, the Prince began to examine you.

“Judging by the way you look like death warmed over, I’m assuming they work you to the bone in the kitchens,” he sneered through his congestion. Again, you remained silent.

“Well however bad you think it is now, I guarantee I can make it a million times worse for you. Now get out of my sight,” after his little rant he expected you to flee, which made it that much more awkward when you simply stared back at him completely aloof.

“So be it then,” he huffed, snatching the tray from you.

///////////

You had expected the Prince’s threat to merely be the defiant ramblings of sick, unwilling patient and it seemed to be just that in the weeks that followed your quick interaction.

You avoided being forced to take him his lunch again and things continued as normal. You could even say that you were adjusting to life in the kitchens and the strain it put on you felt as if it began to lessen. Then it all came to a screeching halt one morning.

“Y/N! Stallworth wants ya” One of the Gazelle’s yelled entering the room. You put down the knife you were using to cut vegetables and wiped your hands on your apron as you trudged to her office. A feeling of dread began to creep into you as you felt trouble loom. If Stallworth ignored you that meant that you were doing everything right, so this had to mean something was wrong.

“Yes ma’am,” you said entering the already open door.

“The prince requested you. Said he wanted you to take his meal orders from now on and to bring them to him. I see no reason not to comply,” Stallworth said sharply. You didn’t know if she expected you to speak or not so you remained silent.

“Well what are you waiting for?! Go tend to the Prince,” she snapped and you were gone in a minute. You had no idea where the Prince was at this time so you decided the best place to find him would be where you last saw him, his bed chambers.

Just as you arrived, the Prince was exiting his room looking healthier than ever.

“My liege, the kitchen staff informed me that I was to bring you your meals from now on,” you panted from the sprint to his room.

“Indeed,” Prince Louis confirmed which led to a prominent silence.

“So where is it?” He snapped suddenly causing your ears to shoot up in shock.

“I have to know what you want first, you have to put in the request to the kitchen staff,” you said cautiously. It seemed the Prince was even more volatile in his robust state.

“My dietary schedule has not changed in years. Stop wasting my time and go fetch it, Dog.” He said as if your species was something filthy and detestable.

“My name’s not Dog,” you said in a quiet voice as you turned to leave.

“I’ll call you whatever I like, you pathetic excuse for a maid. It will do you well to learn your place.” Louis snarled. You bowed awkwardly and left to fetch his lunch.

You felt small, oh so small. And worthless. You had never been one of those Carnivores to resent the royal family (or Herbivores in general) for placing Carnivores so lowly in society, but then again you had never came into contact with such an openly contemptuous Herbivore before. The Gazelles ostracized you for the most part and Stallworth was a real piece of work but they never left you feeling so... ashamed. Ashamed of yourself and ashamed of your species.

This was to be the future leader of the Kingdom? A Herbivore who hated Carnivores? The thought was overwhelmingly depressing. Carnivores were barely getting by in society as it was, who knew what things would be like for them once a petty, egotistical asshole like him were to take the throne.

////////

All those months ago when Prince Louis had threatened to make life as hard as possible for you, out of all things you would not have expected to underestimate about him, his dedication was definitely at the top of the list.

He was relentless day in and day out, running you ragged around the palace for obscenely trivial matters, while also putting the burden of his meals solely onto you. He forbade anyone else to touch even a single ingredient of his meals, making you the only one to prep the meals, cook the meals, deliver the meals, etc. even if the exact entree was being cooked in the kitchen already.

He also made sure someone (usually one of his guards) was watching you at all times in case you tried to tamper with his food. It was embarrassing and insulting to have a guard breathing down your shoulder at every possible moment and yet that was something you were simply forced to deal with.

On days he felt like you were a little to compliant and agreeable, he’d make you eat whatever was on his plate with him, even if it was against your own nutritional chart.

“I’m afraid I can’t, my liege. Canine such as myself aren’t supposed to eat [insert food],” you said bowing slightly.

“Will it kill you?” He asked bored as always.

“Well, um, no but we get incredibly sic-”

“Then stop your incessant whining and get over here, Dog! I don’t have all day and this food’s not going to poison check itself!”

Prince Louis was a vile man. You’d even say you hated him and you had never hated anyone before. Every minute you spent in his presence, you felt lower than dirt and he had to know that. Which was why he made sure you saw him more than anyone in the entire palace. He even made you stand by his side and watch him eat, even if some days you were near starving from not having enough time to feed yourself in a rush to tend to him. All this and you still had to do your regular kitchen duties to the best of your abilities and help cook for the Carnivores at night after the kitchens were cleared.

You were beginning to be run to the bone and it was taking a negative effect in your health. Your heart would pulsate at unhealthy, sporadic rates; you found it harder and harder to digest food even when you were hungry; and your eyelids and limbs constantly felt like cement. After months of running you into the ground, you began to see that realistically, as badly as you needed this job, you just couldn’t keep this up if it sent you to an early grave.

The final straw happened in the Prince’s Study. He was taking his lunch there as he usually did. You stood at his side (he would never allow you to sit down) as he languidly ate his soup. He’d sent you back twice now for corrections to the dish but after the last time taking you so long to return (as you had to force your body to take every step), he decided to just begrudgingly eat it as is.

You barely remember what happened. One moment you were willing yourself to keep standing and ward off exhaustion and the next you were on the ground, unable to move. You heard a slight shuffle and then everything went black. The last thing you remembered was trying to get your limbs to move but they refused.

When you began to regain consciousness, the events of falling slowly began to come back to you. It looked like this was the end of the line for you. If you couldn’t do your job properly, you were fired, it was as simple as that.

You sat up slowly, ready to face the music when you opened your eyes to an all too familiar setting. You were in the Prince’s chambers. Even worse, you were in the Prince’s bed. You looked around frantically and saw him sitting in a plush chair in the corner, a book in hand as he languidly turned the pages. Upon seeing your eyes staring at his, he closed the book but made no move to stand up.

“You’re awake I see. Feeling better?” The Prince asked as bored as ever. Somehow you got the feeling that this was somehow worse than being fired, much much worse.

“M-my liege, I-, what am I-, how?”

“You passed out in my study, I carried you to my chambers.” He said standing up. He moved towards you like a predator.

“You’re basically a walking corpse. I doubt you’re even registering what I’m saying right now,” He leaned over you and before you could stop him he tore your blouse open.

“Just as I suspected. Your fur quality’s deteriorating as well,” he shook his head in slight disgust. You scrambled out of the bed and tried to cover yourself with what was left from your ruined maid’s uniform.

“I’ve had quite enough of this your highness. I- I- I quit!” you said in a fit of rage which only managed to come off as quiet frustration due to your exhaustion.

Louis rounded the room and stalked towards you. He raised his arms and you thought he was going to strike you, however his hands dipped lower to your waist to throw you over his shoulder. He marched you back to his bed and gently set you down in the center.

“Request of resignation denied. Now go back to sleep, Y/N. You’re not thinking clearly.” He said while he performed a half-attempt at tucking you in. You tried to struggle against him but your flails were weak. He grabbed you by the shoulders and languidly pinned you down until you tired yourself out.

“Finished?” Louis asked. You nodded slowly and he released you.

“Good. Now get some rest, I won’t ask again,” Louis ordered and you felt your heavy lids close as you drifted back to unconsciousness.

////////////

Louis made sure you were actually sleep before grabbing the book he wasn’t actually reading and slinking back into his armchair across from his bed. Okay it wasn’t actually supposed to be in front of his bed, it was supposed to be in his study but he had dragged it in here so he could watch you.

He told himself it was only as a form of protection, that he needed to be alert in case you woke up as an angry Carnivore. In reality, he could easily overpower you in any instance and he had just been watching you for the past few hours for his own reasons. He couldn’t help it, seeing you like this was an enigma to him.

Every time you were in his presence, your guard was up. You were painfully ignorant to the proper ways to address Royals and you knew it, so you constantly held your tongue in fear of offending him and making your situation worse. That only ever served to anger him more, how careful you were around him as if saying the smallest incorrect thing to him would hurt his feelings.

Well, he could kind of see where you got that impression. He had launched a full on personal vendetta against you and you had only been doing your job.

Okay maybe that was what started this but it certainly wasn’t what kept him going for this long. He hated to admit it but he’d hadn’t stopped this little onslaught yet because he wasn’t ready to stop seeing you. He had grown accustomed to being around you constantly, day in and day out, even if you were there slightly against your will.

The fact he found you to be the single most gorgeous creature he’d ever had laid eyes on definitely wasn’t a factor here, or at least that’s the lie he told himself.

He knew he shouldn’t think such things, he was betrothed for goodness sake. But he still couldn’t leave you alone, couldn’t let you out of his grasp just yet. He knew nothing would come of it and he was fine with that, had accepted it even. You were a Carnivore, a commoner, and he was a Prince. He was just occupying his time, nothing more.

Louis, to his own shame, had slept with numerous maids prior, of all walks of life. He was never stupid enough to sleep with a Carnivore, of course, yet he’d never really had the desire to until he met you. With you everything was different. It wasn’t just the urge to get into your pants that drove him, it was actually quite the opposite. Just being in your presence was all he craved, the thought of defiling you not even a factor here.

Whatever incessant crush he harbored on you would simply have to wear itself out but not if he wore you out first. He knew his torment of you to disguise his own feelings was childish to say the least but none of that mattered if you quit. Not that he would actually allow you to quit in the first place.

No, Louis wasn’t ready to go back to being alone just yet. He had decades of loneliness that await him during his Kingship. He would take his fleeting moments of happiness now where he could, before his time ran out.

/////////////

[soulmate-game]

“Alright, so tonight is going to be fairly standard. Arkham is silent, and there’s no solid leads on what any of the free rogues might be up to. Harley is sick and Ivy is stuck at home taking care of her, so they aren’t going to be up to anything on either side of the law for a few days. Catwoman is the only person we’d have to look out for right now, but her kleptomania has taken her out of the city for a change,” Barbara was typing away at the large Batcomputer keyboard as she brought all of the Gotham vigilantes up to speed on what to expect for patrol that night. “So, Red Hood and Black Bat will take the Narrows and surrounding area patrol route like usual. Nightwing and Batgirl, Upper east side and fashion district patrol route. Red Robin, you’re taking the route that passes city hall and through Old Gotham and Diamond District, and if you don’t throw a fit maybe you can take Robin with you. Batman, crime alley and Newtown patrol. Robin or no Robin, pick your poison,” the redhead offered, finally spinning her wheelchair around to look at everyone. “We’ll be pretty spread out tonight, but like I said, there’s nothing. No whispers of anything planned on the dark web, no news from any of the rogues, Blackgate and Arkham are, dare I say, peaceful right now. But if you see anything, I’ll redirect you guys so you can get backup ASAP.”

This was a rare night. Usually there was at least a plot or red flag to investigate, but not that night. For some reason, it seemed like Gotham had gotten a dose of sanity that it had been desperately missing.

“Actually,” Alfred took that moment to walk in, a slight pep to his step that seemed to catch everyone’s attention. “I do have news. Batman, you of course know that I have been keeping a close eye on Paris’s situation as per your orders, yes?”

Bruce, who had already been inching towards the batmobile none too subtly, suddenly stood stock still and slowly turned to look at his father figure. He could feel the eyes of his many children honing in on him, silent questions behind those orbs.

“Of course, I remember,” he confirmed cautiously. “You haven’t had an update for me in years.”

Years? Tim furrowed his eyebrows. That meant this had to be something that stretched very far back, because everything that Batman tried to keep secret from him since he became Robin had already been outed. Right? Well, he supposed there was always the possibility that Bruce could have snuck something by, but not a large one. Between him and Oracle, any new secrets he tried to squirrel away were unearthed pretty swiftly. So, most likely this was something Bruce had asked Alfred to keep an eye on at least back when Jason was still Robin. Maybe even further back than that.

“Yes, well you wouldn’t have appreciated any prior updates, sir,” Alfred said pointedly, raising an eyebrow. He always would be the one to understand Bruce Wayne and Batman the best out of all of them. “But this is a big one. I used our inside contact to check up on the Paris situation like I do every month, and this came up,” Alfred pulled out a remote from his pocket and clicked it at the computer, triggering it to bring up an article that likely had been hidden and only accessible via that remote signal. If Barbara had had any reason to check for hidden files she would have found it easily, but Alfred was good at never giving any hints as to when he was hiding something.

But what was on the computer was far more interesting than the all-too-familiar, cryptid ways of Alfred Pennyworth.

Because it was a news article from an online Paris newspaper. It was still in untranslated French, but nobody in that room had any trouble reading it. It was dated to have been published two weeks earlier.

On the cover picture for the article was a man that everybody also recognized, being high-profile and extremely influential in the fashion industry. Most of them had even met the man at least once, the aging Gabriel Agreste. In his early seventies, it was odd to see the man being herded into a police vehicle. He didn’t seem all that threatening, though he still struck an oddly intimidating figure with his cold glare and straight back. Being herded behind him was a woman of around Bruce’s own age, with long brown hair in several elaborate braids. Her dark, almost muddy green eyes bore into the camera and a snarl was on her face. Lila Rossi, the model that had been employed under Agreste for quite some years now and had turned into a sort of reality TV celebrity after she got too old to be hired for as many modeling gigs. She was known as highly untrustworthy, a lie monger and the most infamous gossip in the celebrity world. The headline for the article was;

“THE PARISIAN NIGHTMARE FINALLY OVER! AFTER THIRTY YEARS OF TORMENT, THE HAWKMOTHS OF PAST AND PRESENT HAVE BEEN ARRESTED.”

Underneath that title picture was another, this one detailing the Parisian heroes to stop Hawkmoth, who had been replaced years ago by his female counterpart Monarch, a play on the Monarch Butterfly. The Heroes, on the other hand, had remained mostly the same after the infamous confusion of the early years of Hawkmoth’s reign of terror, where Ladybug had temporarily started adding hero after hero to the team before mysteriously and suddenly retiring almost all of them.

On the right was Ladybug, who stood proud with her arms crossed and a somber gaze directed towards the two unmasked villains. On the left was Chat Noir, in a weird black leather costume that was like a bizzare yet fashionable meld of DiscoWing and the classic Batman uniform. Minus a cape or cowl, of course. Standing behind them, all fanned out, were the last four members of their team. Viperion, in a dark teal snake-themed costume. Ryuuko, standing next to him in a black and red ensemble with her elemental symbol proudly on her chest. Bunnyx, in her bright baby blue and white, and lastly the imperious Stinger behind them in her black outfit with gold accents.

As everyone but Alfred and Bruce read the article and examined the photos as quickly as they could, the eldest vigilante in the room slowly removed his cowl. His eyes were wide, disbelieving as they stared only at the two pictures on the screen and didn’t pay any heed to the article itself.

“Thirty years,” Jason remarked, turning to face Bruce angrily. “Paris has been under attack by magical madmen for thirty years, and you never told us? We knew nothing about this, and this has been going on since before us. Since before you, even,” he waved a hand at the screen angrily. “You know that they have been under attack since before Batman was even a thing, and you never said anything? We could have helped! The league could have—“

“Been a liability,” Bruce interrupted, but it was the uncharacteristic softness to his tone that ultimately shut Jason up and attracted everyone else’s rapid attention. “The league knows. The founding members, anyway. It was something I briefed them on back when we first founded the League, but we were careful to keep any mention of it off of any electronic system. The magic behind the attacks stopped any word of the terrorism from getting out through normal means. We pretended to put the JLE in Paris, when really they are centered miles out of city limits and never set foot inside Paris’s boundaries.”

“Why?” Dick asked, his own mask off so that he could glare into Bruce’s eyes without it obscuring his expression at all. He wasn’t explosively angry like Jason, but it was clear that Dick wasn’t happy either. “They all look to be your age, Bruce. Which means they’ve been fighting HawkMoth since they were teenagers, on their own, since before there was any Justice League or very many other established heroes at all to provide backup. And I get that HawkMoth and Monarch seem to have controlled or fed off negative emotions and a lot of us would have been liabilities, but there are Leaguers who have extreme control over their emotions. You could have gone. Or J’onn, you could have even sent Tim. Anybody to help even a little.”

“Paris isn’t my city, it’s Ladybug’s city. The League and most metahuman heroes stay out of Gotham because I asked them too, but I am not the first to have the idea that keeping other heroes out of a volatile city can be beneficial for damage control. Ladybug herself told me not to allow any interference in the situation,” Bruce braced himself against the back of one of their metal debriefing chairs, leaning forward so it could take most of his weight. That, and the way he never looked away from the photos displayed on the computer, tipped off everyone else that Bruce might not have stayed uninvolved willingly. That he had a deeper connection to the whole Paris mess than just keeping a shrewd eye on a possible issue.

“You know Ladybug?” Tim decides to speak up, leaning back against the desk that housed the batcomputer keyboard. His voice was decidedly softer than that of his elder brothers’.

Bruce nodded, still in an odd partial trance. “We met when I was on a trip to Paris, before I became Batman. It was twenty-three years ago, I was eighteen and found out the hard way about the situation that the rest of the world was somehow oblivious to. I was able to meet Ladybug during one of her patrols, and confronted her. Even after I became Batman two years later, she refused any help. It wasn’t until about a year before I adopted Dick that I finally decided I couldn’t keep worrying about a situation and people that I wasn’t being allowed to help, so I told Alfred to use the sources that Ladybug had given me back when we first met to check in on the situation every month or two. I know that it was not the best decision, making Alfred do what I couldn’t bring myself to, but by the time I adopted Dick I had mostly forgotten about it. I was too worried about trying to figure out how to raise a kid and then deal with raising a vigilante kid after that, for the first time.”

Silence reigned for a while. This was, essentially, news that Bruce had been waiting to hear for over twenty years. An outcome that he had been barred from being a part of. Talk about bittersweet, especially when Bruce seemed so passionate about wanting to have helped. Probably too guilty about not being allowed to.

In the end, it was Damian who made the connection between this news and his father’s foreign mood and behavior first. Or at least, he was the first to vocalize it. Cass probably noticed it sooner.

“You have feelings for Ladybug,” Damian somehow managed to make the declaration sound like a reprimand. “I admit, she is likely much better of a suitor for you than that mangy cat, but I hardly think that trying to start courting her again after so long apart is reasonable. She could have changed from—“

“I know, Damian,” Bruce’s knuckles were white from how tightly he was gripping the chair. “Trust me, I have spent more than enough hours contemplating calling her again to catch up, but I knew it was best to stay away. I had grown busy with Batman and the League anyway, and adding the time difference on there was no way any relationship between us would have been feasible.”

“So you cut yourself off from even being her friend. Which, might I remind you, I heavily advised against,” Alfred finally cut back into the conversation, hands clasped behind his back. “The two of you had maintained a perfectly stable long distance friendship for over five years, and I still consider the day you cut her off to be one of your stupidest mistakes, master Bruce. On an unrelated note, I received a call from the designer that you always commission your more high-fashion suits from, sir. She is coming to Gotham for a time, and I gave her an invitation to come visit for dinner tomorrow. I hope you don’t mind.” With that said, Alfred turned on his heel and walked away.

“That man never raises his voice, but somehow still makes you feel like absolute shit when he gets mad,” Stephanie mused aloud when the butler had left, earning silent nods from everyone else.

“How are you still alive, Father?” Damian asked, raising an eyebrow over one vibrant green eye. “If you cut off Ladybug only to continue to commission the person that I assume is her civilian identity on a regular basis, how has that idiocy not blended into the rest of your life?”

“It has,” Jason added in, always up for a game of Rag on Bruce. “He’s just always had this annoying ability of surviving even the shittiest situations he ends up in. It’s like he has plot armor or something.”

Bruce only grunted, pulling his cowl back on. “Patrol. Robin, you’re with Red Robin today. Don’t kill each other.”

“Oh no, I want to live to see the girl you’ve apparently been crushing on since you were a teenager,” Tim said as he ambled over to his motorcycle. “Seeing THAT reunion is gonna be way better than picking another fight with Demon Spawn.”

“Tt.”

—*—*—*—*—*

“Your tie won’t get any straighter,” Barbara teased Bruce, watching as he fiddled with the tie around his throat for the millionth time in just the past ten minutes. Alfred had made sure that he couldn’t escape this, even going so far as benching Batman for the night.

And to make matters worse, it was still far too early for patrol so all the Wayne kids were present. Stephanie had other obligations to see to, unfortunately, but other than her even Jason had come over to the manor to see the fallout.

“Master Bruce, she is here,” Alfred’s voice cut through the almost palpable nerves emanating from the usually stoic or charismatic man. Batman was nowhere to be seen at the moment, but neither was Playboy Billionaire Brucie Wayne. No, this was Bruce Wayne, as genuine as anybody could see him. And more nervous than his kids had ever witnessed.

The door was opened, and in stepped someone that defied any of the Batkid’s preconceptions. They were expecting someone suave, sophisticated, with hard-earned muscle trying to hide under her skin. Like a Wonder Woman type of person, bursting with strength except for when they made an effort to disguise it. But that was not what they got. No suave, sophisticated bachelorette of a businesswoman and reputable fashion designer. No goddess-masquerading-as-a-human. Not even a femme fatale like Selina Kyle or most of Batman’s exes.

But there was a distinct observation that the kids made the moment they saw her.

Black hair, so dark that it seemed to reflect blue in the light, and clear blue eyes that were dark, vibrant, and seemed to glow with intelligence and humor, with just the slightest gray tones that hid in them grim experiences and disillusion.

She had a smile that was eerily similar to Dick’s when she laid eyes on the family and let it spread across her face. It was like the warmth of the sun, and instantly made the impersonal foyer feel cozy and welcoming. But the sharpness in her eyes as she scanned over all the people gathered, more than she expected if her eyebrow raise was any indication, was just like Tim. Too much like Tim.

She came to a stop a few feet away from the Wayne clan, and rested one hand on her waist as she popped her hip out. Jason’s attitude.

Her hair was up in a simple but elegant bun, with a braid curling around the base of it. She was small, about five foot four if their estimates were correct, and the sleek sleeves of her midnight blue dress simultaneously emphasized and disguised the lithe, corded muscle mass that seemed to flow smoothly down her arms. Not a brawler’s muscle, but an acrobat or gymnast’s. The delicate silver embroidery along the sleeves and trim of her dress, and curling around her waist like a belt of thread, was in actuality a string of bats in various flight poses interspersed with silver swirls and tiny ladybugs. Her own playful personality, it seemed, something innocent and daring and subtle all at once that didn’t quite fit any of the kids, it was solely hers.

“I am Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” the woman finally introduced herself, holding out her hand even as her radiant smile stayed firmly in place. When her eyes found Bruce again, they stayed there. “An old friend of your father’s. And by the way, Bruce. If you ever cut contact with me again without ever explaining yourself, I will not stay twiddling my thumbs in some other city again. I will hunt you down and get you to tell me what exactly possessed you to freeze me out, and only if it is some really good reasoning will I let you off without giving you a remedial lesson in the importance of dodging.”

Damian’s fire.

Dick looked over at Bruce, then at Marinette. She caught his eye, nodded and winked, and looked back to her old friend.

“But I do have to say, this looks suspiciously like a family we might have had if you had ever gotten up the courage to ask me out all those years ago instead of not realizing that I never specifically forbade you from visiting Paris, only heroes in general. You’re lucky I’m patient. I spent thirty years waiting to get back the Butterfly Miraculous and lock those two up for good, but making me wait twenty years to finally confess to you is a bit much, don’t you think? And adopting kids with only blue eyes and black hair is a bit on the nose, even for you.”

Scratch that, Damian’s loyalty.

Bruce really had adopted kids that reminded him of Marinette in some way, and the way he would grin or smile at Damian when he was displaying his usually subtle but steady loyalty, or the way that Bruce had almost unending tolerance for Damian’s stubbornness, it all started to make sense.

Bruce had tried building a family around the one he imagined he could have had with Marinette.

“Mari—“

“Nope. You’ve made me wait this long, you don’t even get a hug until after dinner. Then we can catch up, and you’ll take me out to dinner in a few days,” suddenly what was happening seemed to creep up on the woman, and she fidgeted. Sheepishness rose to her face, and she winced at her own words. But damn, she had imagined this day for so long, she couldn’t help but get assertive! “I mean, if you want to. I get it if you lost interest in dating me, but—“

“How about I set up a private dinner on the top of Wayne enterprises, day after tomorrow. We can even do a patrol afterwards if you’re up to it.”

His sons all facepalmed, some inwardly and some outwardly. Barbara groaned and Cass pinched the bridge of her nose. But, to their astonishment, Marinette’s smile just came back full force.

“Aww, you know I can’t resist the offer of a patrol. But just one, I want to enjoy some time off now that I’m not perpetually on-call as Paris’s main hero.”

Bruce finally grinned back, his eyes soft for the first time in a while that wasn’t directed at his kids. In way that they had never been soft towards Selina or most of his past flings.

“Just one patrol, then.”

“Sounds like a date.”

First attempt to upload this goofed and deleted the first part, so here is attempt number two! Again, Brucinette has been invading my dreams.

Apparently there is a part 2 now.