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honey-on-your-tongue · 1 year

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Everything I Never Told You

(Part three)

Series masterlist

Warnings: Angst, and angst, and angst. Really at this point I'm just being mean. Uh, a little fluff. Slow burn. Yup, that's about it.

You needed to take a step back and regroup your thoughts. You were torn. You felt uncomfortable in the clan, like you were invading their home, but a little pebble in your heart felt like you belonged.

So, you retreated into a tent of your own. That's where you sit now, arms around your knees, mind and heart at war over what you should do next.

You want to be here. Really, you do. You like this place. You like the atmosphere, you like the freedom, you like the peace, you like how you fit in.

And the people...they only add to that sense of belonging. Especially since they all seem overjoyed to have you back. Everyone's tried talking to you, tried having conversations or simply greeting you, but you can't keep up. It takes you a while to understand, let alone to respond without messing up your words. And the fact that they all talk over you, over each other, only makes it that much more difficult to communicate. But the way they treat you, the way they're patient with you, the way they slow their talking to help you...it makes you feel accepted, cared for.

You really must've been a good person for them to care about you like this.

Can I be that person again?

Jake told you about his idea. “Maybe,” he'd said, “if we keep you around the Omaticaya, your memory will come back.”

You'd frowned. “What do the Omaticaya have to do with my memory?”

He'd hesitated, tail slowly moving from side to side. “Once, before, you told me being around the Omaticaya was the only time you'd felt at peace,” he'd informed you.

That had been enough for you to agree.

As you think about the conversation, someone calls your name from outside the tent—Jake.

“Can I come in?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you answer him.

He walks into your tent, holding a few items in his hands. He looks at you, sitting on the ground, and wordlessly lowers himself beside you.

“You know you don't have to stay if you don't want to,” he tells you gently. “You can back out any second; no one will think less of you for it.”

You smile at him softly. “It's not that I don't want to stay,” you admit. “I just...I don't know who I am. It's like there are two of me—the one who belongs here, and the one who belongs with the humans.”

He raises a hand to your face, pushes a strand of hair aside. Your ear flicks at the feeling of his skin on yours. “What do you feel like you should do?”

You sigh quietly. “I...I think I should—”

“No,” he cuts you off. “Don't think it through, the mind is too afraid of taking risks even if it's for the better. What do you feel you should do?”

You glance at him, keeping your eyes on his, your heart speeding up at how wide his pupils get every time he looks at you.

What do I feel like I should do?

You imagine yourself going back to headquarters, falling back into the mundane routine, sitting for meals where you don't belong and everyone can tell, lying in a cold bunk in a room full of people who are so different from you, it makes you feel like you're broken.

You imagine just returning. Pretending you never ran into Jake in the first place. Pretending he doesn't make you feel like that before is right there, on the surface, for you to just grab. Pretending you won't compare your fellow military to the Omaticaya people. Pretending you can be happy while oppressed by the humans' unkindness, by their thirst for revenge, their destructive ambition.

How could you ever pretend to not feel that you belong here? How could you ever go back to what your life was when you've seen the life you can have here?

“I feel like staying,” you inform Jake.

His eyes shine, a smile slowly growing on his lips. “I'm glad,” he tells you, quietly, as his tail swings excitedly. His eyes fall to the items in his hands and he seems to realize just now that he has them. “Uh, here,” he tells you, clearing his throat. “These are for you. It's...it's a loincloth and one of those, uh, beady-top...thingies.”

You blink at him, glancing down at the items in his hands. “Oh, uh, okay. Thanks,” you tell him, accepting the attire.

He nods softly, standing up, his eyes not leaving yours. “I'll...be waiting outside. If you need anything, like help with your clothes or—” he cuts himself off, looking flustered. “I mean, not that I—Not that—Purposely, I wouldn't—I'll just be outside if you need anything.”

He walks out of your tent, leaving you there on your own, trying to figure out how to put these clothes on.

Jake stands outside your tent, making a face at himself.

Stupid, he thinks. Stupid, stupid, stupid. How are you going to tell her you'll help her get dressed? Way to make her feel comfortable around you, idiot.

He sighs at himself. He's trying to be nice to you, he's trying to do everything right in hopes that you'll fall for him. He's trying to be perfect for you, but he just can't seem to keep his brain in his skull when he's around you. It's like you're some sort of divine phenomenon that messes with his head, that severs the connection between his brain and the rest of his body, and leaves him to follow nothing but his heart.

His ridiculous heart that is racing within his chest, making his tail swish erratically, forcing his breaths to become hurried and irregular.

He hears you inside the tent, cursing softly, huffing at yourself, sighing, groaning in frustration. He understands that perfectly. When he first had to put a loincloth on, it was hell.

It's a long while that he stands there, waiting for you to walk out. But you never do. You simply continue sighing, huffing, cursing.

Eventually, you call his name.

“Jake?” You sound almost timid as you speak.

His heart leaps, his stomach somersaulting. “Yeah?” he calls back, his ears hyper focused on you.

“I...I can't get this on,” you mutter.

He feels his heart speed up even more. How is that even possible? How is he not dead with how fast his pulse is?

“Do you want me to get Neytiri to help you?” he offers, fiddling with his fingers anxiously.

“Uh...I mean, I'd prefer it if you could help me, but if you can't...”

He can barely hear you after that. His heart is loud in his ears. He can hear his own breathing, too. His mind spins, his tail swooshes, and he can feel nervous excitement lick over his body.

“I can help you,” he tells you softly, gently pushing his way into the tent. You stand in the center, your now-bare back to him, holding the loincloth up around your hips.

Jake feels the breath leave his lungs. I'm dead, he thinks to himself. I'm dead and gone to Eywa. There is no earthly creature alive that's this beautiful...

He approaches you carefully, terrified of doing anything to make you uncomfortable or to scare you off.

He places his hands over yours, on your hips, and gently slips his fingers past yours to grab the thin string of the loincloth. You flinch gently, your tail swishing with unease. His fingers skim the skin of your hips as he ties the string softly, gently. He traces your hips, his heart jumping out of his chest and into his throat, the feel of your body sending shivers up his spine. The feeling is ethereal, unreal, wonderful and terrifying. He can't believe you're here. He can't believe he's touching you. He can't believe Eywa has blessed him like this.

When he's done with the loincloth, he asks, “The top?”

You point at the ground a few feet in front of you. “Left it there,” you reply, a mere whisper, almost as if you, too, were afraid of breaking this atmosphere.

Jake walks past you, picking the item up and turning back to you. His eyes avoid your naked body even though you've covered yourself from him.

He stands behind you again. He gently brushes your hair aside with one hand, sliding it over your shoulder before wrapping the string of the top around your neck. You shudder as his fingers touch your shoulders and slide across to your neck. He ties the top, quietly questioning, “Is it too tight?”

You shake your head, a miniscule movement. “No. It's good,” you answer, your voice so low, he won't be able to hear you if he breathes any harder.

The outfit is done. You're all dressed. He has no reason to keep his hands on you, but he can't help it. It's like something takes over him, keeping him behind you, making it impossible for him to leave. His fingers skim down to your shoulders again, caressing you there, before sliding down your arms until his hands find yours and he intertwines your hands with his.

And it seems whatever's taken over him is possessing you as well. You lean towards his touch, lightly resting your back against his chest, letting his chin fall to your shoulder. His breath fans on your neck, and you're too close to not kiss.

So he kisses you. On the shoulder, softly, shyly, carefully. You shudder again, letting his lips explore you.

His mouth moves up to your neck, trailing the path with kisses and little licks. Your skin is hot on his mouth, goosebumps pricking your body. He wraps his arms around your waist, his fingers still intertwined with yours. He pulls you closer, and you allow it.

He's so privileged, he decides. He's so privileged for you to let him kiss you, and hold you, and dress you. He's so privileged to have met you in the first place. He's so privileged to have gotten to know you. He's so privileged to have fallen in love with you. He's so privileged for Eywa to have returned you.

He's so privileged to be with you in reality and not just in another one of his dreams.

His mouth traces the sharp tip of your ear, making you sigh softly. Your tail curls around his calf, your hands squeezing his.

He moves his lips back to your neck, gently bites down on the skin there, and you jerk slightly.

“Jake,” you whisper, and he hums in response as his lips kiss under your jaw. “Did you go to that place—the one I found you in today—only to visit my tomb?”

His little kisses on your jaw and neck stop. His ears fold back as he replies, “Yes.”

He can feel the way you breathe heavily. He can sense your pulse. Your entire body starts racing, your breaths growing thicker, your heart speeding.

“Why?” you ask him, still whispering.

“I...I couldn't let you go,” he admits, closing his eyes with force, still terrified this is a dream, still fearing he'll wake up soon and find you're six feet too far.

“Why?” you insist, almost as if you know there's something he's not telling you.

Because I love you.

His tail flicks anxiously. “I...You were one of the most important people in my life,” he says instead.

But he's holding back so much.

You were my entire world. You were what kept me going. You were home. You were happiness. When I lost you, I lost everything. The only way I could ever be close to you while I was awake was by visiting your final resting place. You were gone without saying goodbye, and I was left confessing to your headstone everything I should have told you.

“I guess I just...had a lot of things to say, and not enough time to say them,” he adds, his lips right beside your ear. “I was hoping you'd hear me. Hoping you'd grant me closure and found your own.”

Your ears fall back against your head and you softly say, “It seems to me like it didn't work.”

You don't say it unkindly, but the atmosphere slowly cracks and falls away, leaving both of you starkly aware of how neither of you is in control in this moment. It's like the force that possessed you drifts off, seeping out of your bodies and reminding you that you're both strangers to one another, not friends, and barely acquaintances.

Slowly, Jake releases you and you step away from him. You turn to face him and quietly offer, “Thanks for helping me with...” You gesture at your new attire.

“Yeah, it's-it's no problem,” he replies. His eyes take a quick once-over of you, and he smiles gently. “You look so pretty,” he says softly, blushing a little.

You smile back, bashful. “Thanks.”

He stands there for a while longer, trying to stretch out the moment, trying to make it last forever.

He has to wake up eventually.

“Come on, I'll give you a little tour to help you get an idea of your surroundings,” he tells you, nodding for you to follow as he ducks out of your tent.

------

The people are so kind, you're surprised by it every time. As Jake leads you around the clan, the people wave at you, smiling; little kids run to you, hugging you, leaping at you, talking to you in Na'vi too fast for you to understand, so Jake translates and helps you communicate with them.

The fact that the clan has hoards of modern weapons—guns, rifles, grenades—does not escape your attention. You remember hearing word at headquarters about shipments being intercepted, weapons stolen...

Apparently, it was their doing.

The Omaticaya have the power to attack the humans, and yet...they never have.

Bloodthirsty blue monkeys. Savages, animals, beasts, monsters.

Wasn't that what they had told you about the Na'vi?

Lies, lies, lies. Because from what you can see, these people are the kindest, sweetest beings you've ever met. They're patient, benevolent, soft with the way they behave around you. It's like they know what you've been through and are simply trying to help you, to tell you, it's okay, you're safe with us.

As eclipse nears, Jake takes you on his ikran, up to the top of one of the Hallelujah Mountains for you to look over the entirety of Pandora in all its splendor during dusk.

As you sit beside him, caressing the gentle pasture that grows on the surface of the rock, you wonder, “What were you like before?”

He glances at you, his ears twitching with every call of animals from far below. “Before what?” he asks, eyes studying you closely.

You meet his gaze. “On earth,” you clarify. “Who were you?”

Jake sighs softly, turning his eyes to the landscape. “Marine,” he replies. “Ex-marine, actually. I...sustained an injury to my spine, lost motor in both my legs.” He shrugs. “I started the Avatar program in hopes of going back to earth and getting the funds necessary for my surgery. I found a home here instead.”

You look at him, amazed. Found a home here instead. Somewhere, deep in your mind, those words resonate with you, as if it weren't the first time you've heard them.

“Did I...Was I able to find my home here, too?” you question.

Jake's eyes flutter over to you and you can see he hesitates.

Yes, Jake wants to tell you. Yes, you did. You found a home here, and you helped me find mine.

You had been the first one to make this place your home, to find everything you'd been looking for in here. He'd simply followed after you. But you don't remember it, none of it, and he's not sure it's a good idea to give you answers to questions he isn't in a position to respond. You have to find your own answers, and he doesn't want to get in the way of you making up your own mind.

He sighs, doesn't answer.

“Jake?” you insist, eyeing him.

“I don't know,” he finally replies. “I...I like to think that you did, but you never got the chance to tell me if you did or if you didn't.”

I died before I could decide, you think to yourself.

What others things had you missed? What other plans did your death cut off? How many opportunities has been robbed from you because of your death?

“Oh,” you say softly.

Jake releases a tiny exhale. “I'm sorry I can't give you the answers you need,” he offers. “I wish I could help you more, but...”

Your eyes move to him again. He could help you. In your tent, when he'd held you, touched you, kissed you...it was almost like some part of you knew something, remembered something from before, and you'd felt...safe in his arms. Like a piece of the puzzle had fallen into place—like the only piece that mattered had been found.

“Don't worry about it,” you say instead. “Bringing me here, to the Omaticaya people, hoping to jumpstart my memory...That's more than enough, Jake. Truly.”

He glances over at you and places a large hand over yours. A little shock goes through you, warming your skin. You lean in a little, considering placing your head on his shoulder, but you stop yourself.

No, don't push it.

Jake feels you lean in. He can sense the ghost of your head against his shoulder, can feel his arm around you, can sense himself pressing a kiss to your forehead.

But he sees you stop short, hesitating over it, not leaning against him.

His heart squeezes itself as pain scorches it, fueled by anger towards the Sky People for taking you from him in the first place and returning a version of you that's troubled, uneasy, constantly at war with herself...He's never hated them more than he does now.

He gives your hand a gentle squeeze and moves to release your hand from his grip, but your hand races after his and holds onto him.

His eyes race to you and he finds that you look as surprised as he feels.

What. The. Fuck.

Your mind thinks of nothing more than those three words. Your hand stays on his for a few seconds, but it feels like years, until you seem to regain control of your limbs and release his hand.

“Sorry—” you start, ears folding back, but as soon as your hand is off his, Jake grabs you again.

Your eyes snap up to his, and he holds your gaze as he intertwines your fingers. Your heart skips various beats, your ears jumping to attention as you look at him.

He leans in, lips coming dangerously close to yours, and your heart races even more.

“I don't wanna fuck this up,” Jake whispers at you. “I don't wanna scare you off. But I...” He clears his throat. “I've missed you so much. And I have too many things to say. And...I'm terrified...”

Terrified they'll take me away again before you can say everything you need to tell me?

“You don't know me,” you whisper, eyes falling down to Jake's lips before meeting his amber gaze again. “You...don't know me.” And the second time you say it, it's like you realize it.

You pull away from him—well, you mean to, but you fail when Jake whispers your name.

“I do know you,” he says quietly. “I know you.”

I love you, he thinks to himself. Please let me be with you, let me love you, let me hold you. You don't understand how much I've missed you. I know you feel this, too.

And he can see you're allowing yourself to fall into him, to give in to whatever this pull is. You let him tug you closer, let one of his hands rise to your face and cup your cheek, rub over your cheekbone...His other hand holds yours tightly, fingers intertwined. His lips inch closer to yours, amber eyes scanning your gaze for any signs of hesitance, anything that tells him you don't want this.

But the way you look at him with those big eyes, widened pupils, the last rays of day shining in your irises...You're wordlessly asking him to kiss you, almost inviting him to you, and he can't say no.

He has every intention of doing it, of kissing you and holding you close and telling you he loves you. He's not in control of his mind anymore, not in control of his hands or his racing heart or his ragged breaths. He can only feel himself leaning towards you, aching for you, finally...finally...he feels he has you.

Eclipse falls. The day's light flashes away. Animals call to each other in the forest, the wind whistles through the leaves. He can't pay attention to anything but his thumping pulse, and then...

A soft sound, familiar, echoes through the air and reaches both of you. A howl, a little more high-pitched, a silent message traveling through the forest.

Your ears perk at the sound, his do too.

It takes Jake a moment to get rid of the haze that blurs his mind, but once he does, he realizes that you two have to get back.

His ears fold back, he sighs. “They're calling everyone back,” he tells you, releasing you from his grip, feeling the cold air rush over him at the loss of contact with your skin. “We've implemented curfews 'cause of the Sky People, to prevent any incidents with them, so we all have to be back by eclipse. And that's the sign that curfew is beginning.”

Your ears fall, your tail ceasing it's nervous swishing and resting against the rock. “Right,” you say, clearing your throat. Then, sounding completely unaffected by what just happened, you question, “Have there been many nighttime attacks from the humans?”

Jake swallows down everything he wanted to tell you. He swallows down the need to kiss you. He swallows down the ache he's been harboring all these years for you.

He shrugs and replies, “A few. Nothing too serious, but we prefer to prevent even the slightest accidents.”

You nod slowly, your eyes avoiding his.

Fuck, Jake curses in his mind. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why do I wait so long? I'm gonna lose her again if I keep waiting. Fuck.

“Let's go,” he says, his ears still folded back, as he stands. He offers you a hand to help you up, but you get to your feet on your own. He leads you back to his ikran and helps you on it before hopping up himself.

The animal takes to the sky. Even though your arms are around him and your body leans against his, something in Jake has never felt as far from you as he does now.

@spicycloudsalad @arminsgfloll @mashiromochi

#avatar jake sully #avatar #avatar fanfiction #fanfic #jake sully #jake sully x reader #reader insert #jake sully fluff #jake sully angst #avatar angst #angst with a happy ending

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hel-phoenyx · 2 days

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Nicomaque and Andreas belong to @soupedepates, Hei, Wren, Ocean, Sora, Maria Suzanna and Augusta to @noa-de-cajou and Natsuki and Fyodor to @corneille-but-not-the-author

____

I'm already beginning to feel tired. But Livia is too happy about that little outing, and Hope started smiling for the first time in months when I mentioned the idea of that general children-of-former-Ultimates playdate.

To be fair, it wasn't my idea. It's just that we, by pure coincidence, have a tendency to put our children in the same school and daycare, and today it's one of the events of said school. The school fair. And since I am trying very hard to be a good parent, and to give a safe space for children that don't have that luxury, I had to invite several people I didn't want to see.

It's for the children, mine as much as theirs. And because it was my idea, I have to assume the consequences.

So I swallow both my pride and honor, and sit down on the bench next to the only parent no one wants to approach but everyone needs to keep in check. Always for me the ingrate tasks.

"Don't make such a face, dear," Nicomaque laughs while putting out another cig. "I'm starting to think I am unwanted here."

"You are. Andreas isn't."

Said Andreas is currently running around the playground with Hei, Livia behind them holding one of those fake swords they sell at the fair. I'm sure Sachiko bought it for her because Thibault would find it too sharp, too violent, too dangerous for our little eight-years-old nightmare. She almost caught up to Andreas, who seems to have even less endurance than Hope. It may be the paleness of his skin, or the faint dark circles under his eyes, but it makes me wonder if he's taken care of properly.

Thinking about it, probably not. The one that knew how to left some time ago.

The father of that child chuckles, eyes locked on the playground.

"That is very rude, Blondie. Do you like me only for my child ? Didn't take you for THAT sort of people."

"I know what word you had in mind, and trust me, I didn't go from afraid of children to fucking pedo, thanks. I just want to make sure Andreas is supervised at least for a moment."

And I'm not the only one. Thus, explaining Augusta's presence, that is throwing daggers through her eyes at us since the beginning of the playdate. Maria-Suzanna is currently building a twig and pebble fort, probably to help defend against the assaults of my terrible daughter. I am not idiot enough to think the glaring of her mother is only for my current bench buddy.

She never got exactly why I stayed. I'm sure she had a lot of opinions in her mind, cowardice, weakness, evilness being the most common words, especially after what he did to Elvira and Fyodor. I don't intend to tell her I don't know.

Nicomaque is still smiling, even though contrary to me, he avoids this part of the playground like the plague. I am not in the right mood to turn the knife in the wound, especially with children present, so I don't make any comments.

A sigh escapes his lips.

"Come now, I am perfectly able to watch over my child."

"Me when I lie. What time did he go back to your house yesterday ?"

"That's just having freedom."

"Freedom at that age is the occasional allowance and the ability to go out alone with the certitude you're gonna be safe and someone is backing you up. Not being up doing you-know-what and hang out with you-know-who."

"I don't want to hear anything from the sheltered child."

"Maquo, sweetie, we were both raised in isolation and control. The only difference between us is that you were a product of emotionnal incest and I ended up tossed aside when proved useless."

That remark makes him shut up. About time. Livia is running towards me, with her cousins and Hope behind her. Andreas is following, albeit shyer. I think he's not used to so many children with temperaments such as the van Heels'.

"Papa, papa, can we get bubble waffle ? There is a stand held by Sora nearby, and I've been DYING to eat some !"

Hope is signing with her only arm something that looks like "me too" in arab sign language. Apparently she's not the only one interested, because the words "bubble waffle" is making my niblings vibrating with excitement, other children such as Wren, Ocean and Natsuki are joining the crew, and far away Maria Suzanna is looking at us with expectant eyes.

I guess Augusta told her to stay away. Fair.

Turning away from the deadbeat next to me, I smile.

"Do you intend for me to pay for all your little crowd ?"

"Well auntie Mareva said it's your turn to open your bank account, whataver that means. Can we, can we, can we ?"

Andreas looks towards me with glimmer in his eyes. He doesn't even spare a look towards his father, probably because he knew he already has his permission.

Nicomaque is not even affected by that lack of acknowledgement.

My heart can't help but tighten. In what world will that child grow up ?

I get up, with victory shouts of all the crowd.

'Alright, you little cockroaches. Let's get you something to eat, and me too for that matter. You want something, Nicomaque ?"

"Never gonna pass an occasion to eat the Ultimate Chef's food, especially if you're paying. Bring me a beer, while you're at it."

"Sure," I say, with absolutely no intention to comply. "Let's go, children, time for snack!"

#hel is talking #la peste moderne #hel ocs #lpm #hel writing #parents in lpm being parents is something I should write more often

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ledenews · 1 year

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Derik Scott Board: It Starts with a Story about ‘Radioman’

There were moments when he felt he was alone enough to close his eyes to see what he missed most. The people, this crevice of a valley, even duct tape on a bumper. He wasn’t supposed to ever allow himself to be that vulnerable, see, because was a sign of weakness and you didn’t want those nicknames in Afghanistan or Kuwait or Jordan. Derik Scott Board was a crew chief of one of the Air Force’s C-130s. He was an E4, and a Senior Airman. No one acted frightened but everyone was. They wanted to held, too, but no one would admit it. That’s called war and unless you can close your eyes and feel it again, you’ll never understand. But, Board now is attempting to open something of a portal so you and me and anyone who dares to glare might be to imagine a darkness that is about much more than the absence of light, a pair of closed eyes, and a silence that falls hollow without the pop of a pebble. It’s music Board uses now, 10 years after he finally could touch his imagination’s visions once again, because there seems to be an invisible slide he rides when pickin’, performing, and singing in sounds that only reflect a soldier’s soul felt left behind in times when herds of heroes were expected to follow each other to red, white, and blue parades. Instead, now, his bride Kaydon and his baby girl Willow coddle and care for his completeness. Derik and Kaydon welcomed Willow to form the family they dreamed of for years. Why did you decide to serve your country in the first place? I decided to serve my country after a failed attempt at pursuing college. I was immature and headed down a path that did not have an outcome that I would have been proud of. My father talked me into enlisting. Even took me down to the recruiter's office. He and I actually enlisted that day. He liked the pitch so well that he was ready to sign back up after being honorably discharged in the early 90s. When people ask you about your service, do you find yourself holding back details? If so, why? I used to hold back details and give a brief surface-level overview of what I did and experienced. These days, if you ask, I'll give you the whole story. I think a lot of Veterans hold on to their memories out of fear that they will appear weak if they break down while recounting moments within their service. What I have come to find out is we are not weak, but more complex humans with emotions, and maybe more emotion than what we let on. Board's deployments were in the Middle East between 10-15 ago. What would you like each American to understand about protecting our freedoms? The saying of freedom isn't free, is so very true. People who live within the safety of America, get to see and experience a country that will honestly let you become whatever you want as long as you keep your feet moving forward. That lifestyle comes at the cost of a service member signing on a dotted line and giving their mind, body, and soul to something bigger than them. That will eventually take a toll on the service member and it is not something to brush past. The reason are able to do the things that they do, is because someone like myself said “alright, let me strap my boots on real quick and keep those freedoms alive for ya” What will you teach your child about your service? When my daughter one day asks me about my service, I will explain that I served out of a dark place, and that service also has taken me down some dark places, but it ultimately led to a light and to her and her mother. Board is proud of his service and he now assists other veterans from his office in Jefferson County. Why is reaching veterans so important to you? It is important to me because I can empathize. It is important to me because knowing that giving somebody my ear and presence for 15 min, is often all that it takes to turn a frown upside down. Veterans have a story and I believe that if they stay mission focused on getting their story out there, a lot of the weight that they carry, can be lessened, and a bit of peace can start to set in. Read the full article

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littlejadegarden · 1 year

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Historically I have never challenged myself

I have never done anything out of fear of what others would think of me.

I ask myself that typical journaling question,

“Who did I need when I was little”

“Who is the person I needed when I was a kid”

“What was she like?”

I’ll tell you what she was like.

She was fun. She didn’t care what people thought of her at all. In my head, she was someone I could look up to. I imagined her skateboarding, something I could never do because it was for boys. And I looked ridiculous.

But she’d teach me. And she wouldn’t judge me for sucking, even if I continued to suck. She’d laugh, falling on her butt in the middle of the street and laughing like she was clutching her stomach but really all her limbs were out, shaking and moving because her energy could not be restrained. Then she’d catch a breath, get up, wipe the tiny street pebbles off her palms and show me how to do it again. All with a smile that said; relax, we’ve got time. We got this. You are not alone in this. I got you. She never got tired of helping me. She really honestly listened to me, even when I was upset or mad. “Do you really wanna learn to skateboard?” She’d ask, holding me my my shoulders, bent down to my level; “yeah.” Id say below my breath, looking away cause it was embarrassing to want to be new at something. To get something wrong. To look foolish. “Ok then. Let’s go.” She’d say. But first, an ice pop so I felt better. Eaten sitting on the front stoop with our legs spread like men’s because she did it and she never said it was bad and I knew I felt more comfortable that way.

From morning until nighttime she would teach me how to do things no one else did. Taught me how to fish, how to swim, how to box. Even if she kinda sucked at boxing. How to play basketball. How to shoot hoops so it makes a nice swish. And when we couldn’t make it swish anymore we just messed around chucking the ball at each other and playing HORSE or PIG or SNOOPY. She walked around at night and I could talk to her about anything because it was safe with her. In my head, she begrudgingly went to work at the grocery store because it was close to home. And she dealt with bad guys like a badass. She was so brave without even being brave. Because it was her nature to be.. what’s the word… unapologetic. She was unapologetically emotional and free. Levelheaded but also let herself cry in front of me or laugh her butt off. And it taught me that even when I grow up, I still need to cry. And I still need to laugh my butt off. And she was so so caring. And she’d work hard at a job she didn’t really care about that much just so she could get her own place and have her freedom too. And I’d live with her. We’d go to parks, eat ice cream, ride bikes, and enjoy the summer time. Go to the theatre, eat popcorn, sneak in snacks from her job, even just m&ms. We’d watch the sunset on the roof of a school or other high building and say nothing because the sunset was so beautiful neither of us wanted to nor felt the need to say anything at all. We’d have many times I’d want to bottle up to open on a rainy day. Memories that warm your heart. She wore shorts and tank tops and was grubby but still clean. She would tell me to make sure I get enough sleep, to eat well, to do some homework even if I didn’t want to. All the while I knew she didn’t really sleep well. That’s why she stayed up at night to hang out outside; just looking at the moon or listening to some music till she got tired enough to go home. Writing some lyrics in the garage or on the roof where she’d made her own little haven. She didn’t always eat particularly well, mostly canned stuff and stuff from plastic bags. Lots of sandwiches. See, she was never perfect. She was never the ideal. She didn’t have a strict sleep schedule, she didn’t eat “healthily”, she wasn’t a perfectionist in school. She got stressed like everyone but took time off to destress. She did well in her favorite classes like science and English and gym but she didn’t really care about grades. She naturally just,, was. She was freedom. She was choosing boldly not to care. She wasn’t confrontational but she didn’t shy away from it. She just did things. Said things. Dressed the way she wanted to. Because she could. She wasn’t youth, she wasn’t eternal beauty, she didn’t have all the answers. But she kinda did. She was sunshine and rain and thunderstorms and she was alive. She yelled outside in the middle of the storm and said I AM HERE. AND I AM ALIVE!!!! and it didn’t matter if anyone saw her or heard her because she was alive and that was the best thing to be. She told me stories about Peter Pan and Wendy and told me how things worked even if she kinda made stuff up, she’d still tell me, “but uh, I don’t really know, y’know? Who knows?”

It’s hard to be who I need when I still need her. I’m still here, and I’m alive. In the words of The Rose,

“Hoping for someone to come and save me from this story.

Now I don’t even lean

Sick of waiting on my dream

Don’t forget when you’re a child

Even if time passes

Let it stay in your mind

Don't live your life like you have a thousand years

Ready for you to waste your time on regrets

Don't you ever, you will never don't forget dreams in your head”

•

“Should’ve never gave it up

Should’ve never said I can’t

Judging me for who I am

Should’ve never listened, no

Should’ve followed my own dreams

It’s better late than never, yeah”

#Spotify

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plush-rabbit · 3 years

Text

Poly!Yandere! Big Three in a Relationship

Request: Maybe poly!yandere! Big Three x reader? Maybe sfw and nsfw hcs? 👉👈

A/N: I really like the big three. I think they’re really interesting characters and i hope we get more of them

SFW:

Being in a relationship with the Big Three would be anyone’s dream. They’re all attractive, high-ranking heroes, and seem to get along great with each other. It’s the dream to be in their relationship. They’re fawned over and most people would gladly trade places with you. To date the Big Three is truly something to be proud of. They might be obsessive, but that only adds to their charm. Who can blame them? When you’re heroes, you make enough enemies eventually. They only want to protect you and if that means using their connections and resources to figure where you are and with you, then it might be a bit extensive, but it’s only because they care for you so much.

While polyamorous relationships aren't unusual in hero society, it is still a bit of a rarity- especially when they seem perfect like the Big Three. You have the childhood best friends, the beauty queen, and then you, the sweet, little naïve partner who is coddled and cared for. You’re the talk of the news- magazines, headlines, interviews and whatever else there could be, it’s about you and your relationship. While you would have preferred to be kept on the sidelines- the less that know, the better- they can’t help but be thrilled. Now people will know who you belong to without having to say a word. It’s a nice relationship, where they each hold a different part of power over you, keeping you nice and submissive, letting you fall onto their lap as they tell you that you can’t go anywhere now. You can’t start a new life when everyone knows who you are and who you are dating.

Tamaki still holds a bit of his more introverted nature, and when he isn’t out protecting society, he’s at home with you. He has you in his strong grip, sitting beside him as he bulks up for his next day on the job. He loves to touch you, to have you on his lap as his face is buried in your chest, his nails pressing into your skin, dragging down when you try to move away from him. When Tamai is in charge of you, he hardly ever lets you go out. He much rather have you to himself, where no one can witness you nor him. There really is no escape in the home that you share. He knows all the hiding places, and has made sure- along with Mirio- to place cameras where he thinks that you would hide. If you ever seem to entertain the idea of leaving, he’d fall into such a depressive state that the rest of the household would be angry towards you and you can’t have that.

Nejire is sweet. She holds a bit of motherly tendencies, cooking for you, bathing you, and even dressing you up as if you were her little doll. She loves to keep you in such a cute state, to make sure that you look the best that you can be- after all, you are dating the Big Three. Her curious nature makes it perfect- she’s so calming to talk to that you often forget just how powerful she is, just how much control she has over you. All your worries and insecurities are questioned, counter-attacked, and in turn, when he brushes just a bit too harshly on your hair, she reminds you that you can’t really break-up with them if you wanted to. It wouldn’t work out. You don’t have friends. You’ve cut off your family. Who would ever take you in? Especially if they learned just how heartbroken they were if it were your fault.

Mirio is the one who treats you with the most care, he hardly ever gets angry at you. He really is like the sun- bright and all consuming. If you’ve ever gotten into a spat with another, he’s always the first to help you mend things. He’ll do anything to make you smile and will gift you whatever you need in order for that. In turn, all that he asks for is that you stay around him for the longest. Just latch onto him and let him worry about everything that has to do with the household. If you need to go out, he’s sure that Nejire can make time and in turn, he’ll let you take his card- seeing as you don’t have one. He’s so happy, so cheerful, that when he does get angry, it’s terrifying. Tamaki was right. There really is nowhere to hide in the home, because he always seems to find you. His grip is firm, digging and bruising your skin as he tells you to never disobey and run off again. Once done, he flips the switch and he’s wiping your tears and telling you another joke as he pulls you to his arms.

NSFW:

While having a train or a foursome isn’t all that uncommon, they also like to take turns. Tamaki will fill you with his quirk, tentacles inside of you as his cock is buried deep inside of your aching hole. In the sidelines, Nejire will have her hand wrapped around Mirio, and you’re sure if there weren’t tears in your eyes, you’d see her spirals flickering in and out. Mirio’s fingers will be buried knuckle deep as they watch Tamaki rail you. Nejire will have her tongue lap at your sex, her quirk in effect, your body tense and on pins and needles as she keep you close to her, suckling on your sweet arousal. Mirio and Tamaki will have their hands on each other’s cocks, Tamaki’s face red as he watches you orgasm while Mirio pumps his cock, even if semen has spilled. Mirio will be relentless, pushing your face into the mattress, his hands gripping and teasing at your pebbled nipples. Nejire will be perched above on Tamaki's cock, both trying to watch as Mirio fucks you senseless.

If you did fail to listen to either of them, then they’re less than kind to you. They’ll spread your legs, tease at your waiting hole and press soft kisses against your slit, as they tie your ankles and wrists. A vibrator is pushed inside of you, your body shaking and teased at by either their mouths or hands. They edge you until you’re crying. Tears streaming down your face and wetting the bed sheet under you, your hands in tight fists as you beg and cry to not misbehave again. You have to promise to do better. To smile more and hold their hand, to listen when they say that they’re tired from work. You have to be a good little house pet, and know them. They care for you of course, but it’s hard to believe that when they keep rejecting your orgasm just to see you cry.

They all really just like to see your face contort into something less than innocent. They want to see you cry, to see you shake and beg for them to slow down or to give you a break, but they won’t. You have to please three different people who all have amazing stamina and at the end of it, you’re left overstimulated. Your body shakes throughout the night and any type of touch is jolts of electricity shot through you. And even then, when you’re crying and gripping onto scarred skin, your pleas of rest are shushed with a kiss as you’re lowered onto a cock to sit on. If it isn’t cockwarming, then you're meant to kiss at Nejire’s cunt until she lets you up, but there’s also a part of her that just wants to please you. She’ll kiss at your sex and suckle on your arousal until you’re patting at the top of her head to let you rest, that’s it all too much.

This is more of Nejire’s thing, but she loves to have you suck on her breasts. It’s one of the few times she isn’t trying to fight for your attention or get jealous at how the others make you cream all over their cocks. She gets to have you for herself. To feel your mouth latch onto her nipple and tease the hard bud with the tip of your tongue. It’s the few times you ever get to have her so nurturing. To pet your hair and have her other hand teasing with your sex. All you have to do is suckle on her breast, to hollow your cheeks and beg for her to make you orgasm while her fingers are deep inside of you massaging at your gummy walls that clench around her. It’s one of the few times that she’ll ever be sweet during sex- petting your hair, allowing you to cream, and rest. All you have to do is nurse on her and thank her.

In the earlier parts of the relationship, you still wanted your freedom, you wanted to go out and live a life separate from them, but they were able to snuff that flame out. Even now, you hold onto your stubbornness and they can’t help but coo at how silly you’ve gotten. They'll wrap a collar around your neck and force you to walk around on your hands as you don puppy ears with a tail placed inside of you. You aren’t allowed to walk on all fours, or speak and if you want something, you’ll have to nudge at a leg and point at what you want. It’s humiliating but you can see just how much it arouses them- the tent in their pants, the hands that pull on your nipples, the way the toy is moved around inside of you. You’ll learn our place soon enough and when you have, they’ll treat you to something nice as a reward.

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ask-hunterxhunter · 3 years

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Helloo royal Guards as yandere please

But without the presence of Meruem because I find it difficult for them to fall in love with Reader while serving the King.

Mmmh, Neferpitou with a Reader male because my headcanon is that she is a infertile female uhhh I dont know how to explain it but I think that in the ant castes there are infertile females that are workers

Yeah, as far as I know, that's how it is with ants... I'm not an expert, but I think the female workers are infertile and care for the queen. Their development depends on how much food they receive when they're larvae. If there is abundance, some larvae will be "princess ants" (fertile and will leave the colony to start their own once the time is right).

Hmm... The Chimera Ants, however, seem to work quite different. Besides the whole "Ant Giving Birth to an Anthro Lion" and what not, they didn't end up starving once the queen died (which I read happens because there are no more larvae and the ants need them to properly feed) and many of them left to try starting colonies of their own (even some of the males seemed to want that, not just females like Zanzan)...

Perhaps this is more like some species of wasp? I've read that the queen produces a pheromone that keeps the others infertile. Once she dies, they battle for dominance in order to become the next queen. With the Chimera, however, they left for new territories rather than stay and fight...

...

Is there an entomologist in the house?

Neferpitou

The royal guards, regardless of Meruem’s presence, are not exactly easy to deal with even in their normal state (and I don’t think this is simply because they are not humans). Take them to Yandere level and, well, let’s just say it is not a pretty picture…

Pitou is not someone whose interest is easily aroused (she is the kind that “knows several people but regards only a few of them as her actual friends”) and, in a sense, the opposite is also true: It’s not easy to lose such interest, either. With her in Yandere-mode, well, it’s basically impossible. Once you’ve realized what is going, taking the usual measures to try dealing with it (such as moving, contacting the police, so on), don’t waste any time hoping she will “move on” or “change targets” as some stalkers do. It's not in her nature (both due to her personality and instincts).

Not that you would certainly realize what is going on right away. It would depend on her mood and how she decides to deal with her feelings (and she can’t change this decision): She may just go for the straight, extreme actions or keep a convincing facade of normality for a while… Regardless of whether this “normality” is you trying to kill each other or being friends (or she at least living in peace among humans)...

In the “enemies” case, Pitou would not spend days brooding about having fallen for an enemy and trying to get rid of those feelings. She would just shrug the situation off and start to debate whether it’s best to kidnap you right away or try to court you. If she’s working with other Ants for whatever reason or they just happen to be in the area, she would make sure everyone knows you are not to be hurt (and may God have mercy on whoever doesn’t listen). Her attacks would still be convincing from your point of view while being harmless playing in Pitou’s mind. After all, she lets you escape with no injures!

The “convincing facade” is more regarding how deep (and unsettling) her feelings are. In both scenarios, she would confess soon and, being what/how she is, likely act on it. No matter how much you explain you’re not interested or what arguments you use, Pitou would just wave her tail, perhaps ask what you mean exactly in that “innocently curious” tone of hers and… Completely ignore what you just said.

Well, okay, maybe you need to remember she isn’t completely human, so you can’t demand that she behaves like one, right?

Oh, boy, are you making a mistake… Not being human doesn’t mean that Pitou doesn’t understand that there are limits.

She understands.

She just couldn’t care less.

Remember when she probed Pokkles’ brain with him still alive? When Gon and Killua saw her for the first time? This is nothing next to how she can be when she’s obsessed with you.

I mentioned she would act on her feelings, right? Here’s another thing: She is also likely to do so in the manner of an animal trying to attract a particular mate. And because we’re talking Yandere-mode, I don’t mean the “bird dancing” or “penguin offering a pebble”. Not even the “cat giving you a dead prey”…

If you’re friends/she’s living in the human society, there would be some restraint at first, to the point her insistence would seem innocent… Then she would either grow impatient and kidnap you, or things would escalate, giving you hints to the darkness of her feelings until you’re forced to accept that this friend is a threat to you. Maybe after returning home, you find a note in your bed in which Pitou wrote that she loves how soft your bed is, how your home’s security is lacking… And, by the way, that person seems to have a crush on you… Hmm… Should she break their hands or their legs? The playful tone of the note only makes it darker.

Somehow you know she is not kidding.

If you’re enemies, well, she has no reason to restrain herself from the start. Her interactions with you would become far darker even if she miiight not kidnap you right away (for whatever reason) especially since she wouldn’t waste time playing by human rules. Pitou would find a way to make a claim (pinning you down, rubbing herself against you like a cat, and even leaving a love bite/hickey on your neck are very much on the table) or say it loud and clear in battle when there are other humans around. This isn’t just for the other humans, but for you as well: You’re hers, now. There is no room for discussion.

Also, in this scenario, it’s not impossible that Pitou’s “love” started with her deciding to make you her pet. Collar and all.

It should be said that Pitou is a cat in almost every sense, so the tendency to “play with her food” is very much present... Yes, she sees you as a “mate” rather than “prey”, but your attempts to avoid/hide from her consist of an opportunity that is far too good to miss! You change address and, after a few days, start to relax… Only for her to leave a new “present” at your door! It’s both funny and cute how you thought something so simple would keep her away! Awww, you’re so adorable!

Again, it’s true that some of her actions (such as this) have no malice whatsoever behind them, but I repeat, don’t let yourself be fooled: She is very much aware that what she is doing is creepy and wrong and why. I’m repeating this because Pitou can be as charming and cute as a cat… And as devious and sadistic as any human.

While some yanderes give you time (perhaps hoping you’ll eventually come around or because chasing you is so much fun), Pitou is among those who won’t take long before deciding to “take you home”.

Pitou loves having you all to herself and will be very affectionate, especially when it’s just the two of you. Maybe this sounds a little cute on principle? Yeah, trust me, it is not. It’s terrifying! Even when you reject her and she caresses your head saying you’re cute, you can see the insanity in her eyes, mixed with a sick infatuation.

It doesn’t help that, at times, her being “affectionate” involves brushing your hair, cuddling and even bathing together. Not only this invasion of space can already be uncomfortable, something about how Pitou does it makes you feel too much like a pet, especially when she talks about how much she loves you, how lovely you are, and how she is never going to let you go. In this situation, and the way she speaks, those words make you feel cold.

You should have realized by now that there is no reasoning with her and this isn’t because she is not human. Pitou is likely to twist your arguments or make points that would frankly make you think she learned from Illumi or Hisoka (and she only does that because she thinks it’s funny, anyway).

As for Pitou, well, she can’t say she is happy that you’re uncomfortable, but she believes it’s just temporary and you’ll get used to your new life… Hey, humans capture animals all the time to put them in zoos or circus. She isn’t that bad in comparison, now, is she?

She’s easily the kind of yandere that responds to pleas for freedom by caressing your head and saying you’re cute. How could she possibly let you go? You’d run away! Besides, she can keep you well-fed and protected. You say such silly things, love!

That’s not to say Pitou doesn’t have a limit to how much rejection she can take or her patience. And this is a line you don’t want to cross. It’s hard to say if Pitou would get to the point of physical punishment, but this doesn’t mean she wouldn’t make use of other means.

Menthuthyoupi.

It’s not easy to catch the attention of any of the Royal Trio, each for their own reasons. In Youpi’s case, it’s partially because he doesn’t have any human DNA on him, so despite being able to communicate and all, he doesn’t usually pay that much attention to people. It’s almost like he’s an alien (or we are, in his view). Even in a scenario when he is living in peace with humans, he doesn’t have exactly a clear opinion about them. They just exist. Maybe a few of them are okay enough, but that’s it… And in a scenario when he is still fighting them, well, they are the enemy. It’s pretty simple.

Youpi is direct, both in personality and as a Chimera Ant (in that he follows his instincts without hesitation). As such, like Pitou, he wouldn’t avoid his feelings once he comes to understand them. It’s a little strange, yes, but he accepts the fact that he loves you and that’s it. That said, Youpi would be initially confused (especially if you’re an enemy. How on Earth did he develop this sort of feeling for someone he’s supposed to kill?), and he wouldn’t make a move until he is sure of what he is feeling and what he wants.

Sadly, because this isn’t him in a healthy state of mind, this doesn’t mean anything good for you. This isn’t a shy monster-boy finding a human he considers special. This isn’t even “enemies falling in love” or “dark romance”. This is an “already dangerous individual” developing an equally dangerous obsession.

At first, Youpi starts to stalk you (if you’re his enemy/if you’ve never spoken before) or try to find excuses to spend more time with you (if you’re on friendly terms) in this attempt to understand exactly what is going on with himself. During this time, his feelings for you become stronger along with his desire to know everything about you. He’s curious. He’s fascinated. He wants to see you more often. He wants to talk with you… He just wants to be near you…

It’s pretty disturbing because, despite his size, Youpi will find the means to stalk you without anyone realizing it, just like an animal hunting. You may notice a shadow here and now, feel a chill up your spine, but it won’t be enough to make the danger clear enough. If you two are enemies, there are chances you’ll realize that there is something is wrong, as he either avoids fighting you (no issues with anyone else, though) or that he doesn’t seem to be actively trying to hurt you as much as before… Despite this, you’ll never, ever imagine he is in love with you.

Well, disturbing as it may be, it sounds almost as harmless as he can be in this scenario, right?

Not the case. You can’t forget how obsession grows, how it affects a person, and that it gets to the point when merely stalking isn’t enough. There is no such thing as a harmless yandere/stalker. So even if Youpi, at first, is satisfied with merely watching you from afar and making sure you aren’t hurt, it starts to not be enough. He sees you with your friends, smiling at them, hugging them, laughing… And he starts to imagine how it would be to have you doing these things with him, to be the one who makes you smile, to be the one holding you… And he realizes he wants it.

He loves you. He wants you.

And there is no reason to not act on those feelings.

Regardless of the circumstances between you, he seems to take the rejection well (if you manage to control the shock, act calmly and explain your reasons for it). At first, he thinks about your points and may even understand them… Only to find out that he doesn’t care. He can’t forget you. He can’t let go of you… And honestly, he doesn’t really want to. That you don’t feel the same now doesn’t matter. Don’t some couples start not feeling the same for each other, only for those feelings to change later?

In the case of “peaceful existence”, it might be easier to get a glimpse of his instability than with the Neferpitou, but it doesn’t make much of a difference. Even the precautions people normally take in those situations would only work for a certain time… The myth of the animal that “will pursue its prey to the ends of the Earth once it has its scent” is true when it comes down to Youpi (literally even).

Now, while Youpi is less likely to resort to kidnapping (at least right away), he would still find ways to inject himself into your life, so even then, you can’t say you’re free. He may not go straight to threatening your loved ones (and it’s hard to predict if he would follow with it), but there are many other tactics that he could and would use.

And being less likely to kidnap you doesn’t mean he wouldn’t if he didn’t decide it is the better course of action. After all, no matter how strong you prove yourself to be, it doesn’t mean you’re invincible. It doesn’t mean you can’t be hurt. If he keeps you, he can’t make sure you’re safe.

Either way, there is no way to be free of him.

If he kidnapped you, Youpi wouldn’t go so far as to place you in an actual cage or chain you up, but he would find means to make sure you can’t leave.

He is easily the most patient of the trio, including with your rejections and attempts to escape. It doesn’t please him and nothing can convince him to let you go, but at least Youpi doesn’t get angry, condescending, or twist things around. In fact, it gets to the point when you can lose control and try hitting him that he wouldn’t even raise his voice. He would just hold your wrists (carefully) and try to calm you down…

Now, just because he isn’t human, it doesn’t mean Youpi is unable to understand that what he is doing is wrong and why you’re so unhappy. Hey, animals also don’t like to be taken from the place they consider their home like that. He can relate, he can understand. But his obsession is too great for him to let you go and, instead, he hopes that you’ll adapt with time.

Not having human genes and understanding even less about humans than Pitou and Pouf, in his desire to make you comfortable (and make you accept him), Youpi would likely try to learn what he can about humans (probably even asking for Pitou’s help).

For Youpi, your presence alone makes him feel good. While he wouldn’t force you into things that make you uncomfortable or excessively invade your personal space the way Pitou might, there would still be times when Youpi would want to show you some affection. Chances are, he would enjoy holding you close (especially because, next to him, you feel so small and cute) and nuzzling you, which is not only a common expression of affection among animals, but it also gives him an extra opportunity to enjoy your scent.

Youpi might be less cruel than most of yanderes, but this doesn’t mean much. At the end of the day, whether he has kidnapped you or not, the situation is still essentially the same. You’re being hurt either way…

Shaiapouf.

Even in his normal state of mind, for all his apparent calmness and self-control, it’s been showed several times that Pouf can be actually quite intense with his emotions, to the point they cloud his thoughts (and that’s a polite way to say it). Well, multiply that by a thousand and you’ll only scratch the surface of how he becomes as a Yandere.

Even if, by some miracle, this is a scenario where Pouf lives peacefully with humans it doesn’t mean he likes them. It’s more that he “tolerates” and “accepts” their existence as an unpleasant fact and it’s very much unlikely he would have human friends (he would probably find a way to live with comfort and luxury while having as little contact as possible with them). In a sense, you can compare him to some yokais in Inuyasha… He doesn’t go out of his way to antagonize humans (and risk a fight), but he sure as hell doesn’t care for them.

Until you, that is.

Pouf will never be able to say when his feelings for you started to grow and it will take a long time for him to understand them. By the time this happens, well, he is way into “Obsession Land”. Once he can no longer deny what he feels and it hits him that he loves you, his first reaction is… Well, pretty much an emotional tantrum, followed by self-despise and intense fury. How could he ever fall for a human? Disgraceful! Terrible! How could he fall so low? He even tries to hate you for making him feel that way, only to realize he can’t.

This lasts for a while, with him trying to convince himself to bury those feelings, no matter what it takes. If you two are enemies, be prepared: Pouf may consider killing you as the only way to “get rid of this shame”. He soon realizes he can’t bear the idea of you being hurt, let alone by him (well, like this, I mean)… But at least you’re not having to deal with his obsession yet.

Sadly, it doesn’t mean this will last long enough for something to happen before things get out of control. Pouf can’t get you out of his mind, possibly deciding to “observe you” in order to “remind himself” that you’re just a human: Flawed, inferior, and unworthy. This evolves into stalking and has the opposite effect: He becomes more and more infatuated, as well as worried that you might get hurt. You’re so beautiful, so gentle… You should not be fighting! At all! Oh, you’re an angel. No wonder he fell for you! You’re perfect for him!

If this is the “peaceful scenario”, the course of events is still pretty similar, no matter how you’ve met. At first, wanting to get you out of his system, he may be cold whenever you meet and even a little nasty, but it won’t work. He will start to long for more of your presence and if he manages to spend time with you, to consider you only of the few (if not the only) human who is better than the rest of the masses.

Either way, once he accepts that he loves you, you’re screwed.

In the “enemy scenario”, Pouf may try once to convince you to come with him, speaking highly of you and how much he loves you… In his mind, it’s poetry. In reality? The words may be pretty, but the way he says them, the shine in his eyes, the way he insists to hold your hands between his… Well, it’s creepy. Pouf may accept you denying him for a while, but it won’t take long until he seizes the first chance he has to take you. He was just being polite, offering you the chance of doing so by choice (if he does that when you’re gravely injured in a battle, he will use that frequently to point out he saved you and how you need him to keep you safe).

In the “peaceful scenario”, again, it’s not that much a different course of events. Your attempts to make him understand you’re not interested are ignored and there is precious little that anyone can do to keep you safe and, yes, including the Hunter Organization. He would do everything to get you.

In his mind, he is not doing anything wrong. If anything, his actions are almost heroic and proof of his devotion to you.

When you wake up in an unknown location and start to freak out or try to escape, Pouf reacts as if this is just adorable, then going on about how he loves you and wants to keep you safe. And let me tell you, this isn’t a “flowery speech” or like his funny moments in the anime. At this moment you realize you’re in a lot of trouble and that the chances of Pouf ever letting you go are non-existent.

It's not easy to determine exactly how deep his delusion goes; if it’s only about the “perfect life” you two will share or if it includes you. It’s not impossible that Pouf isn’t really in love with you, but rather an idealized version of you. He may also believe that, deep down, you do love him and just need time to realize it.

Pouf is the “adoring” kind of Yandere. He would love to spoil you, care for you, and would want to lavish you with gifts. Perhaps you’d expect him to be the less dangerous of the trio, or at least the most manageable, right? You’re dead wrong. Pouf is actually the worst of them, maybe even on the list of the worst yanderes of all Hunter cast.

His personality also means Pouf doesn’t believe anyone is worthy of your attention and if there is anyone you like (or that he thinks you like), it’s just because they’re manipulative and toxic. It’s his sacred duty to keep you safe from such scum! Perhaps the better term for him, rather than “jealous”, would be “possessive”. As far as he is concerned, you have no need to get in contact with another human ever again.

You thought he hated Komugi? Trust me, that was nothing compared to this.

He would lock you in a room, which you’d only leave while accompanied by him (he can’t have you trying to run off, can he?). Actually… If that happens, you should be glad. This guy isn’t above placing bars along a corner of his chambers (they are certainly large enough), turning that area into your “room” (bed and all). It certainly would appeal to him, especially since it gives him more chance to watch you.

There are stories about how excessive love can be suffocating, the “The Chaser” episode from the “Twilight Zone”… Well, Pouf’s love wouldn’t follow this line. This would be just tiresome. His adoration is frightening, even for a Yandere. The way he’s so sweet to you is mixed with a certain darkness, not letting you forget you’re dealing with an unstable person.

He understands this is a time of adaptation for you and this change of life is a shock, but he wouldn’t be happy if you asked him to let you go every day. In the same sickly-sweet way of always, he will mix subtle (or not so subtle) threats with words of adoration. Maybe he should chain you up… Maybe you’re thinking about that person who (he believes) has a crush on you? Maybe he should make sure you never think of them again…

There is also the fact that Pouf is among the Yanderes who would have almost no respect for your personal space. For all his adoration of you, he can be quite manipulative and controlling: If he wants to hold you in his lap, brush your hair, have you sleeping next to him, dance with you, well… There is little point in fighting. You would have to choose your battles wisely and keep in mind that Pouf isn’t above tying you up if you “start to be difficult”. Some Yanderes are happy enough with having you with them and may have enough patience to “wait for you to love them back”… Well, with Pouf, it depends on his mood.

There would be times when his behavior is all “patient and loving” (more like he just smiles when you try to get away or lash out)… And times when he would basically “demand” that you love him. Not with words, though: You’d learn that there are times when it’s safer for you to act a little more loving towards him (within reason) rather than antagonize him.

#I'm sorry if this was too long #Got carried away #Now I'm wondering about how exactly the Chimera Ants work as a colony #Anyone has a theory?#hunterxhunter #hxh #headcanon #hxh headcanon #yandere #Royal Guards #chimera ants #shaiapouf #pouf #menthuthuyoupi #youpi #pitou #neferpitou #hxh yandere #Somehow I imagine Pouf would be like The Tragedy of Chateau Cepage

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voltagesmutter · 4 years

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Diphallia

Three part smut series about Leviathan and his blessing.

Pairing: Leviathan x MC (F)

Fandom: Obey Me.

Warning: Diphallia (Double Penis), hand-job.

Notes: A thank you to @theinariakuma for your help as always, I owe you so much.

Part One: Discovering.

‘Game over’ repeated in the background, the couple locking lips currently too distracted on wrestling with each other’s tongues to notice the game they’d been playing had ended. Her fingers threaded through the purple strands of his hair, tilting her head to glide perfectly against his as the flicker of his forked tongue pressed against the roof of her mouth. Leviathan pushed the controller from his lap, pulling her on to him to straddle him. Their bodies pressed close together as his hands settled on her waist before moving up beneath her shirt. His hands cupping her breasts over the bra, a motion he had slowly grown in confidence to do as their relationship progressed.

Her clothes were quickly dismissed as they flung them across the room, leaving her in nothing but her underwear. Whispers of “I’m going to miss you so much” were shared. Levi moving from her lips down and over the new exposure of her skin, skilled keyboard digits unhooking her bra and pulling it off in one swift motion.

“Levi!” Gasping with an arched back, his mouth taking a tiny bud of her nipple into his mouth. The flat of his tongue flickering over it whilst his lips sucked to pull it further into his mouth, before releasing it with a wet pop. The motion making her hips subconsciously buck down, grinding over him causing a groan from them both.

He could already sense her arousal, sweetness and desire flooding his senses as he guided her to continue to grind over him.

“Please… more I need more,” Desperation in her voice as his lips worked back up to her neck, sucking on a spot that would ensure to leave a mark. His mark, his visible clear mark to ward off his brothers whilst he was away. His tongue soothed over the reddened skin, purposefully having sucked on a spot that was visible and knowing it would have her wet in seconds. The softness of her palms ran up the impeccably toned torso, hidden beneath the thick layer of his hoodie. It was only recently that he found the courage to remove it, wanting and needing to feel the press of her skin bare against his. Waiting for his nod of approval, she grabbed the hem and pulled it off, tossing randomly across the room.

The delicate grind of her over him, the thumbs rolling over her pebbling nipples whilst his mouth focused on her neck was enough to satisfy her… for now. But she wanted more, needed more. They were no strangers to foreplay or oral, only and always on her behalf. Leviathan replaced his concentration on games for burying his head between her thighs, bringing eye-watering climaxes to her with his mouth and hand. Only he never progressed further than that or sought out his release in return. To start the young girl thought nothing of it, not wanting to push him into something he wasn’t comfortable with. Saving and hoping to have a conversation about stepping up their relationship to the next level on a physical and emotional connection, but when she tried to approach the topic of sex or foreplay on him he simply refused to speak about it. Turning his attention back to the games at hand or even the homework on his desk.

Letting her fingers graze the tone muscles, pausing on the v-lines that disappeared beneath his jeans before finally, her thumbs found the edge of his jeans.

“L-Levi… I- I don’t understand,” Confusion in her voice as her hands rested on the button of jeans, his hands above hers to stop her. Something he did every time she tried to undo them. However this time got to her, the emotional and doubt she felt running high within her. Leviathan was leaving in the morning for a two week trip on ‘Military Duties’ and she was hoping to send him off with something more than him simply letting her come on his mouth or fingers.

"You won't let me touch you... Levi, I don't understand?" Her voice was thick with emotion. "I love you. I want to be with you. To love you as much as you love me." Tears in her eyes as she looked up at him, the droplets slipping down her cheeks.

His face went red, why did she have to cry? "I... I'm not... a normie. I'm not normal..." His voice was hesitant. "I... Things are different to everyone else. When I became a demon." He was nervous. "I... have two?" He tried to explain it, face a bright shade of red. "T-that's why it's better being an icky Otaku. Because they don't care if I have two of them."

She mouthed back the words ‘Two’ silently to him in confusion, before he gestured down with his eyes. Her face matching his shade red.

"Oh, Levi..." Her fingers moved to cup his cheeks. "I don't care if you have one or two. You're you and I love you."

Levi held onto her waist as he pulled her to be flushed against his chest, sweet, tender kisses shared as they kept silent for a few moments. A mutual understanding of trust and love between them. Her thumbs stroking softly over his jawline as she kept her hands cupping his cheeks before pulling her lips away.

“Can I-... Can I see?” Her eyes getting lost in the heated yet still embarrassed gaze of his galaxy like eyes. A small nod followed as she shuffled backward slightly whilst his hands popped the button on his jeans. Slowly, he guided her hands under his, lifted his hips pulling the fabric of his jeans and boxers down. Face regaining in redness at her expression, eyes open wide and her mouth slightly ajar as she looked down.

A half mast cock stranding free just left central above his balls, at least eight inches already with more freedom to grow as it grew erect. Mirrored under half an inch to the right was another, exact same in length and shape. Both of them twitching slightly to be exposed, a delicate glossy bead pooling at the right one’s head.

“Levi… you’re beautiful…” Her voice hitching slightly, tearing her eyes away to speak to him directly rather than at his cocks.

“I- You don’t have to be nice to me, I get that- that it’s weird,” Completely and utterly flustered from the situation, nerves a light as he explained the best he could to the girl he loved.

“Levi… you idiot, you're a demon, everything about you is weird,” She teased with a light laugh, holding his cheek in her palm to maintain their intimate eye contact. “I love you regardless, this doesn’t change anything,”. Soft tears forming in his eyes at her tenderness, a side to him he felt shameful for, now exposed in an accepting and welcoming manner. “So can I- I mean, do they both… work?”.

“Uh- yeah, I have to… relieve them a lot, I get a lot of built-up release…” The red flush on his cheeks spread down his neck as he scratched the back of his neck.

“Can I touch them?” Softly stroking her hands over his chest. A slow nod came from him, the couple shifting so he was lying down, resting upon his elbows whilst she kneeled up between his legs. Putting her hands on his knees, she slowly pushed her palms up his thighs until they rested just beneath his groin. Her left hand slowly wrapping her fingers around his left cock, his breath hitching as the muscles in his abdomen twitched. Her right hand mimicked the action on his right cock, Levi groaning heavily as they both stood solid at full mast. The noise he made, made her still, keeping her hold but not moving as her eyes shot up to his.

“The- The right is really… ngh- sensitive,” Strained words as his hips rose, her fingers giving him a gentle squeeze. His head was thrown back as she stroked him in simultaneous movements, using her thumbs to coax down the leaking bead of pre-cum and stroking down his shafts.

His eye’s screwed shut, hands fisted into the bedsheets as she sped up her movements, twisting and changing the pressured grip around him, “I- ha. I’m gonna cum…”. He came apart in front of her by her touch, panting with deep groans until he spilled onto both of her hands. Thick spurts of white coating her fingers as she shallowly pumped him until his release was fully over. His release was plentiful and doubled than any of the other brothers, covering and dripping from her hands onto his thighs. Leviathan’s chest still heaving with a bead of sweat running down his neck, completely spent and blinded by pleasure.

A vulnerability to him like none before. Bared naked, body, and soul to her. Only one or two people before her had ever seen him, touched him. But none of them had reacted the way she had, no sense of acceptance or understanding. Just pretending that he was ‘normal’ and taking one of his dicks, masking a horrified expression if they came in touch with the other one. But with her, with her, it was a weight off his shoulders. Love and nothing more. Acceptance. Acceptance Levithan had struggled all his life to find. A ‘normie’, a human, his human being the only thing in Hell to accept him for his true form.

“I love you, I love you so, so much,” After a moment of rest whilst she cleaned herself and him up, sticky tissues tossed across the room. Levi cupping her face to kiss her as he sat up.

“I love you too,” Her fingers buried in his hair, gentle pecks on their lips between words. They shared a look, a heated gaze but not for lust, for love.

“I want… I want to-“ He started but she cut him off before he could finish it. “Yes”.

“But you don’t-“.

"You want to pact with me? Yes .. yes, Levi, yes." The fingers in his hair pulled his face closer so the movement of her words was felt against his lips. In class, she learned that demon pacts were something intimate, sometimes romantic. Knowing he wanted her to pact with him made warmth blossom in her chest.

“I do… I do so, so much,” In hushed whispers as he wrapped his arms around her waist to hold her against him. “But only if you want to,”.

“I want to be yours Levi… only and always yours,”.

[Part 2: Preparing].

If people wish to be tagged for updates please drop a comment! 💖

❁ Kinktober (18+)

❁ Masterlist (18+)

❁ Smut Drabble, Prompts and Giveaway (18+)

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me levi x reader #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me levi smut #obey me levi x mc #shall we date obey me #shall we date leviathan #obey me leviathan x mc #obey me leviathan smut

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It

Ch9: Lebanon, Lebagone

Co-written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Summary: A few months post their reconciliation, Jake and Stella run a mission with the rest of the team…

Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson

Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Word Count: 8k ish.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. We do not own any characters in this series bar Stella Stevenson and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: So the mission detailed here was highly inspired by the second book in the Grey Man series. Locations and a few major details are changed, and the names are completely made up. The Terrorist/Political party- The Lebanese Freedom Party, does not to our knowledge actually exist.

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 8

“Alright, let’s get in position before daylight hits.” Clay looked around as they walked down the narrow alleyway.

“Roger that.” Stella nodded as Cougar replied with a tip of his hat to show he had heard, Pooch also inclining his head.

The four of them stopped by a door to their right, Stella pulling the tool from her utility belt which was fastened around the waistband of her camo pants. She picked the lock in under thirty seconds, a simple job that required a little bit of jiggling, twisting and a good jerk with the torque wrench Cougar was holding to defeat.

“Not particularly high security considering this was a bank.” She mumbled as behind her Cougar chuckled.

Inside it was pitch black, dust rose in clouds, shimmering in the moonlight, which was streaking through the dirty arched windows. Both of them flipped out their flashlights, quickly scanning the room for any sign that someone had been here recently, but there was none.

They crossed quietly and quickly through the main atrium of the old building, taking care to keep to the shadows. The old bank was completely deserted bar a few desks and old telephones which sported thick layers of dust as they moved through, heading for the spiral staircase at the far side.

“We’re clear.” Pooch said as he looked up to the top of the staircase. “This place hasn’t been accessed for years.”

“Lima Six, anything to report?” Clay spoke into his radio and a moment later Jensen replied.

“Nothing on the comms, they’re talking about moving Kilo One out at the time we suspected but it could be a rouse to make sure…but Lima Two knows the code-word should they decide to go early.”

“Okay, as soon as you get movement let me know.”

“Ten-four, One.”

“Okay, let’s get set up.” Clay instructed and the team nodded in agreement as they all set about, placing various pieces of equipment around the place exactly where it needed to be for when their target and his security detail, in which Roque had embedded himself undercover, came storming into the pre-designated building, seeking refuge from an attack outside.

It took them roughly an hour to set up completely, things having to be precisely as Pooch directed. Eventually, when he was happy, they climbed the staircase at the back of the room. Four sets of eyes swept the square below. It was deserted, as was to be expected at such an early hour in the morning.

Stella scanned the buildings, nevertheless, her eyes sharp, looking for any sign of movement around the whitewashed and pebble-dashed sandstone that they had grown accustomed to seeing over the last three weeks or so they’d been in Nabatieh, Lebanon.

“So Khalil should be coming from there.” Pooch raised his arm and pointed to a small road to the right. “The plan is we lay down some fire by his bodyguards as he approaches the podium, and force them to take shelter in the bank, as led nicely by Roque.”

“Why do we want this guy alive so badly, anyway?” Stella mumbled to herself. “If he’s such a bastard, why don’t we just kill him? He’s a terrorist leader.”

“The Lebanese Freedom Party ain’t deemed terrorists all over the world.” Pooch grinned and Stella snorted. “Russia views them as a legitimate socio-political force.”

“Russia basically executes people for being gay” She scoffed. “Forgive me for not taking their viewpoint here as the one to set my moral compass against.” She sighed. “Cougs could take one shot, straight in the head. Boom. Job done.”

Cougar chuckled as he unloaded his rifle and stand, looking up at Clay. “She’s not wrong, Boss.”

“Whilst wiping that particular shit stain off the face of the earth might be appealing, they ain’t our orders. We apprehend alive.” Clay spoke, matter of factly and Stella rolled her eyes.

“Whatever helps us sleep at night, huh?”

****

Stella had to hand it to their Intel department. The start of the hit went like clockwork. At bang on the designated time, Jensen radioed in to say that they were moving out and sure enough, twenty minutes or so later he accounted the SUVs and jeeps had left the compound. He joined the rest of the team little over half an hour later, leaving the dirty van he had been driving hidden down a dark alleyway at the back of the bank, behind the one the rest of the team had arrived in and headed into the dank building, wrinkling his nose at the musty air as he walked in.

“Hey.” He greeted Stella, his hand falling to her shoulder as she sat in the back, her attention focussed through the window, a pair of binoculars raised to her eyes.

“Hey.” She whispered back, her gaze flicking to him quickly, flashing him a smile as she turned back to her spotting.

“So I picked up on their coms that they think Khalil’s personal security have done a sweep of the area.” Jensen looked at them. “Roques done his job nicely. They should be entering the square from the South West corner.”

“ETA?” Clay turned to him.

“Less than five minutes.”

“Excellent.” Clay nodded. “So far so good.”

The next five minutes or so passed in silence, all five of the Officers in the room observing the roads leading to the square just in case. Even though their intel was solid, it was drilled into them that they should never rely on it completely.

“Boss,” Cougar spoke suddenly, his shoulders squaring back, “target approaching. Roughly two miles out.”

“Fuck, I got something coming too from the North East.” Pooch groaned.

“What?” Clay demanded.

“I dunno but it looks suspiciously like an ARV.”

“An ARV?” Clay frowned.

“Yup. They’ve stopped. Six hundred yards out.”

“What do you mean they’ve stopped?” Jensen demanded, snatching the binoculars off him.

“What the fuck do you think I mean?” Pooch replied. “They’re not moving.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Stella growled and Clay took the binoculars off Jensen. She watched as Clay took a look before he sighed heavily and dropped his head.

“It’s the Lebanese Special Service. I recognise one of them from a mission a while back.”

“What the hell are they doing here?”

“I should have seen this coming.” Clay bit his lip. “They’re going to hit him at the rally. The false trail we leaked to them means they think we’re moving on him as he makes his way out of town and up to Beirut. They’re going to get in first.”

“It’s a double cross.” Stella looked at Jake and Pooch as she spoke, the pair of them exchanging a look before all eyes bar Cougar’s, which remained firmly fixed on his target, turned to Clay. “Why?”

“Death to the West and all that.” Clay sniffed. “They’re gonna take him out and try and use USA involvement as cover.”

“Don’t they realise that won’t work?” Stella shook her head. “We’re Black Ops, the thick fuckers. As soon as there’s so much of a sniff that shit is going west, the CIA will leave us high and dry, denying they had anything to do with it.”

“So what’s Plan B?” Pooch turned to look Clay. “I’m hoping you got a Plan B, because Plan A is going to shit.”

“Kilo one still approaching.” Cougar stated.

“You got anything special in your arsenal?” Clay turned to Pooch. “As in blow up an ARV special?”

Pooch blinked. “Yeah, the RPG but…”

“Go get it.” Clay instructed.

Pooch didn’t hesitate, he shot off down the stairs and Stella watched him go before she turned her attention back to the large square, which was roughly the size of two football pitches, busy with people bustling about their everyday business.

“If we get this wrong, the whole square is gonna be caught up in a fucking gun fight,” Stella spoke, her eyes falling on a group of kids in the middle.

There was a pause before Clay spoke again. “Khalil is our main objective; we just need to keep collateral to a minimum.”

Collateral. Stella hated that fucking word. She swallowed and looked at Jensen who gave her a small smile, which she returned before she glanced back at the square.

“One mile out.” Cougar informed.

“Okay,” Clay spoke, clapping his hands together. “Pooch, as soon as the LSS move, you shoot that RPG straight at the fuckers.”

“Gladly.” He nodded, “But, chances are if they’ve got an ARV out there then they’ll already have agents on the ground.”

“It doesn’t matter, all we gotta do is get a shot off first. Once that initial gun crack is heard, Khalil’s security outfit are gonna herd him in here anyway. And hopefully, when the LSS get note their vehicle has gone bang it’ll draw them into blowing cover somehow.” Clay nodded. “At least then we’ll be able to spot where they are.” He took a deep breath. “Cougar, keep watch on Khalil. As soon as you get a viable opportunity to lay down the fire, take it.”

Cougs, who hadn’t taken his eye away from the target sight of his gun simply tipped the brim of his hat again with his finger to show he had understood and Clay turned to the other three of them as they waited instructions.

“What about Roque?” Stella asked. “He doesn’t know about the LSS.”

“He’ll roll with the punches.” Clay rubbed his hand over his chin. “Everyone clear?”

“Clear as, boss, it’s a shoot-out.” Jensen snorted, nodding his head as he gave a chuckle. “Good times.”

“If this is your idea of a good time then I’d hate to see a bad one.” Pooch grumbled and Stella gave a chuckle.

“Hey, Poochy, I just like to see the positive in all aspects of life.” Jensen grinned, holding his hands out to the side, palms up. “You’re just grumpy because Jolene’s finally managed to…ouch!” Jensen gave a yelp as Stella punched him hard on the arm. “What was that for, babe?”

Stella shot him a look which instantly shut him up. Pooch had confided in her, Cougar and Jensen no less than two days ago that Jolene was four months pregnant, but he didn’t want to tell Clay or Roque for reasons that he was keeping to himself, as per his prerogative, she supposed. It had made her and Jensen snort a little, as when Aubrey had found out she was pregnant roughly five months or so ago, the entire world had known pretty much before the pee was dry on the test stick. Jensen’s eyes widened as he realised exactly what he’d been about to say and he grimaced, before turning to Pooch, giving him an apologetic look.

“Kilo One is approaching the square.” Cougar spoke, and they all turned their attention to him, stepping forward to the window, Clay observing their surroundings with the binoculars.

“Okay, focus up Losers.” Clay hushed them all, gesturing to Pooch. “Get ready with that RPG”

Pooch shot Jensen one final filthy glare before he stepped forward, resting the grenade launcher on his shoulder.

“Arty, Jensen, in position.” Clay instructed. “Coms on, code names only.”

They both nodded, Stel picking up a device that had been in Pooch’s big bag of tricks, and made their way back to the spiral staircase.

And then, it all happened at once. Clay gave the order to fire and both Pooch and Cougar took their shots at the same time. The popping of guns, sounds of screaming and yelling and a rather large explosion followed by Pooch’s loud chuckles of glee hit their ears and Jensen looked at Stella as they waited at the top of the stairs.

“I really shouldn’t enjoy this as much as I should.” He grinned, and Stella snorted as suddenly the room below them was full of voices, once of which the recognised instantly as Roque. From their extensive planning, Sella knew that they would likely hustle into the room in a tight cordon, with Khalil in the middle and head to the most secure part of the building, the vault. They had no idea how many of the guard had made it into the building with Khalid, but essentially it didn’t matter. The Losers were one step ahead.

As soon as the group made their way towards the main part of the atrium, through the open double doors which led through the cashier area, Jensen grinned at Stella.

“Hit it, babe!”

Stella smirked as she pushed the button on the device she held in her hand. The large electromagnets that had been placed on the locks snapped into place, firing the four inch thick steel bolts into their slots, securing them tightly, ensuring no one could get out, and no one else could get in. Yells of warnings rang out about the place as the guards instantly wheeled round, their guns raised and Roque’s eyes flickered upwards to where they were hidden on the veranda above. Jensen raised his right hand, his index and middle finger extended and he waved them across his face, indicating that their next move was about to go down. Roque made no sign he’d seen them, bar a quick double-blink.

“I’m sorry, pal.” Jensen grimaced a little as he ducked down and lifted a heavy square box off the floor, flipping the plastic cover up, jamming his thumb onto the red button. “Lima Two is about to deploy, please return to your seats and cover your ears.” He spoke into his coms, giving the rest of the team a warning. As soon as the device beeped to say it was charged, Jensen launched it over the side of the railing where it fell onto the floor below. As soon as it left his hands, he and Stella ducked down, their fingers jammed in their ears, eyes scrunched shut as the device activated.

Referred to merely by Pooch as the S-Fud- ‘Sensory Fuck-Up Device’, the item had been developed by the boffins in the CIA lab to create complete optical and aural disorientation by using ultra violet and bright white lights and a loud, high pitched sound and sonic wave. Even with his eyes screwed shut, the flash of light still bounced off all the surfaces surrounding Jensen, and the hands which were clamped over his ears might have dimmed the majority of the loud wailing siren, which lasted no more than two seconds, but the combination was still enough to leave him feeling slightly woozy as he stood to his feet, blinking furiously, his eyes feeling like he’d stared straight at the sun, his eardrums ringing as if he’d spent hours in a nightclub with music thumping in his ears. Besides him, Stella staggered to her feet and shook her head, pressing the heel of her palm to the space between her eyes. But they had no time to waste. Jake gently shook her shoulder and she nodded to show him she was okay. Together they made their way down the stairs as quickly as they could.

The S-Fud had done its job, all the men were incapacitated to some extent. As Stella’s eyes glanced around she quickly counted six men in total. Three, one of whom was Khalil, were completely unconscious, face down on the floor. Two more, including Roque, were writhing in pain, hand clutched over their ears, and one was attempting to stagger to his feet. In a flash, Stella had nailed him with a kick to the face, and he fell backwards with a thud, his nose shattering as her heel smashed straight into the bridge.

“Did you see that?” Jensen turned to the other three men who had joined them, all looking around the room. “My girl, she’s a bad ass chick.”

“Can you concentrate on the mission in hand for once and not your dick?” Pooch shook his head as Cougar hit the moving guard with the butt of his rifle, knocking him out.

“Your momma concentrated on my dick last night.” Jensen shot back and Pooch groaned.

“Seriously? Momma jokes, now?”

“Shut up.” Stella nudged Jake harshly with her elbow as she walked past, following Clay as they stepped over the unconscious guards, heading towards Roque as he groaned and lay curled up in the foetal position. Clay knelt down and reached out, loosening his tie and the top button of his dress shirt before patting him on the shoulder, as Stella did the same to their target.

“Okay, lets move.” Clay looked up. “Jensen, Pooch, you take Roque. I’ll get Khalil. Cougs, Arty, give us cover to the vehicle.”

The team all nodded, Jensen and Pooch stepping forward, each seizing Roque under his arms. They managed to get him to his feet, each supporting him, their arms round his back as his arms slumped over their shoulders. His feet staggered on the floor as he made an attempt to talk.

“We got you, buddy.” Jensen said softly. “You’ll be alright, just feel like you’ve got one hell of a hangover for a few hours.”

Meanwhile Clay had managed to hoist Khalil to his feet with Cougar’s help, the man a complete dead weight, which he allowed to slump against his right shoulder. With an almighty heave he ducked and then stood, using his legs to rise up fully, Khalil slung over him in a fireman’s lift, his arms dangling freely down Clay’s back.

Without another word, the team moved as quickly as they could to the dead-bolted doors where Stella reached into her pocket with one hand, whipping her pistol out with the other. She clicked the device, which unlocked the glass doors and they made their way across the atrium, the chaotic noises from outside growing louder as they approached the back door to the bank they’d used to enter. Stella flattened herself against one side of the wall to the right of the door as Cougar took aim with his rifle. He looked at her and nodded, and in a flash she reached out and yanked it open, Cougar darting through, rifle held in front of him.

“Clear.” He spoke and Stella moved to allow the rest of the team to step out into the alleyway, taking up the rear.

She spotted the man hiding in a doorway two down before Cougs even had chance to shout a warning. In a flash she fired pistol twice. The first shot hit the guy in the arm, causing him to drop his gun, the second in the knee and he fell to the floor, screaming in agony. Then came another, and another. As Stella and Cougar continued, Jensen, Pooch and Clay heaved their charges to the side of the van, ducking as shots rained down on them. Pooch wrenched open the door, and Jensen hopped into the back, hoisting Roque in as gently as he could, a sharp contrast to the way Clay simply slung Khalil unceremoniously into the back. As Pooch ran to the front and hopped into the driver side, Stella and Cougar both sprinted towards the van, flinging themselves in as the engine started. With a sharp tug, Clay pulled he door shut as Pooch started the engine.

Seconds later, the van roared back off up the alley, the crackle of gunfire from the square growing quieter and quieter as they put more distance between them and the danger. Pooch drove them out onto the main road, towards the point, some six miles or so away, where they would ditch the van and hop into two separate SUVs and make their way to the agreed Ex-fil point at Saida Port roughly a half an hour or so drive away.

Stella closed her eyes, resting her head against the cool metal of the van, watching as Pooch and Jensen hoisted Khalil into a sitting position, securing his wrists with flexi-restraints behind his back. Cougar was busy offering Roque some water, Stella pleased to see their teammate was finally starting to come round. She smiled as Jensen flopped down next to her, his arm looping round her shoulders as he pulled her to him for a soft kiss.

“I love working with you,” he grinned and she snorted, shaking her head as she chuckled.

“Yeah, we’re a regular nine-to-five couple, aint we?”

****

“Stel?” Jake called through the door of the bathroom of their temporary lodgings before he opened it and to be greeted by Stella led back in the bath, eyes closed. She turned her head to look at him. “I was gonna ask if you wanted head out with the guys for a beer and food but you look pretty comfortable.”

She pulled a face. “I’m feeling anti-social.” Jake laughed at her frank answer and smiled as she gave a small shrug. “Sorry, not sorry, but we spent four weeks in a hell hole motel and I’m extremely grateful Clay’s managed to get us holed up in a nice place and not the Officers’ Quarters on base so I intend to make the most of it.”

“Babes, we were both in the army.” He snorted. “Rocks for pillows and all that.”

“Yeah, well it’s been a while since I did that. What can I say? I’ve grown used to the finer things again.”

“Fair enough, I’ll let Clay know you hate them all and don’t want to socialise.” He teased.

“Jakey, we’re gonna be here for by my guess a week at least, plenty of time to go out sampling the finest bars the UK has to offer.” She shrugged, not bothered in the slightest by his teasing. “If you wanna go meet them, feel free. I’ll grab a take out. There were some leaflets pinned to the board in the kitchen.”

“Or…” Jake smirked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, “I stay here, because frankly, that bed looks really comfy and I kinda wanna test it. See how grossed out we can make Pooch.”

“Jerk.” Stella snorted.

“Well, he’s done nothing but complain since we got here about how he has to share this house with us and can’t go in with the others, so I wanna give him something to really complain about.”

“You’re such a little shit.” She laughed and Jake groaned.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what? Laugh?”

“Yeah, it’s making your boobs wobble under the water, and that’s making me horny.”

“You’re always horny.”

“Hornier than usual.”

“Well, I can solve that problem.” She grinned and Jake smirked.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, turn around and shut the door on your way out.”

“Ouch, Stells.” Jake slapped his hand over his heart. “That’s cold.”

“Hmmm,” She muttered, laying her head back and closing her eyes again. “If you’re getting in here you better hurry, or the water will be cold too.”

Jake grinned and in a flash, reached back to grab a fist full of his t-shirt behind the collar and pulled it over his head. As his hands flew to the button on his jeans Stella nodded to the door.

“You better lock that, I know you said you wanted to gross Pooch out but if he walks in on us he’ll be scared for life.”

“And?”

Stella merely arched her brow, “No locky, no fucky.”

With that Jake spun on his heel and flicked the lock, before he turned round and shoved his pants and boxers down in one full swoop and swung his leg over the side of the tub. Stella moved forward so he could settle behind her, his legs laying either side of hers. It was a tight squeeze, the tub in the two bedroomed terraced house wasn’t built to accommodate two but neither paid it any mind.

Stella took a deep breath, closed her eyes and leaned back, her head laying against Jake’s chest as his hands softly rubbed up and down her forearms, his lips pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

They were silent for a while, the pair of them simply contented to stay there for a moment, relishing the peace after a long and tedious mission and the chance to relax for an evening before the debriefs and analysis started the next day in the War Rooms of the RAF Base in Suffolk, England. Often, the aftermath of a mission was more hard-going than the action itself. They’d hash over the events, listen to the CIA operative justify some of the more morally ambiguous decisions made, no doubt the ramifications and political fall-outs, be informed about how the CIA were going to play it and then they’d have to submit written reports, which would be Classified at the highest levels and stored in the top secret vaults in Virginia.

It was part and parcel of being in a black-ops team. They knew the script, having read and played it many a times before. But it was draining and exhausting, one of the many reasons Stella was glad that the actual missions they ran, whilst they could last months at a time, were on the large few and far between.

“You okay?” Jake broke the silence and pressed his lips once more to the back of her shoulder and Stella nodded, tilting her head round so she could look at him.

“I spoke to Rey before.”

“Yeah, how is she?”

“She said she felt the baby move for the first time.” Stella beamed.

“Oh, that’s awesome.” Jake grinned back, “are they gonna find out what they’re having?”

Stella snorted, “dur. You know what she’s like. She’ll want to decorate and buy it blue or pink clothes, plus if it’s a boy she’s got time to mentally prepare seeing as all she wants is a little girl to treat like a doll.”

Jake laughed. “Is it wrong I kinda hope it is a boy?”

Stella grinned. “Nope, I was thinking the same. She’s asked me to be with her when it’s born.”

“I’m not surprised.” Jake wrinkled his nose. “Dick’s gonna be about as much use as a knife in a gun fight.”

“Knives can be very useful in a gun fight, if you know how to use them.”

“Oooh I love it when you talk dirty, babe.” Jensen smirked and dropped his head to kiss her softly. His right hand moved from its spot on her arm to stroking her hip, tracing a path down the outside of her thigh. His fingers softly traced shapes on her warm, wet skin just to the side of her knee before he moved his touch up her leg again then across to her abdomen. Stella sighed against his mouth, as her head lolled to the right. Jensen’s mouth moved, trailing a line down her neck, nipping at the hinge of her jaw.

He was growing hard against her, Stella could feel it, and the way his fingers were ghosting over her made her skin tingle and her body shiver. "Jake," she whimpered. "Yeah, baby?" His fingers found the tuft of curls and then her nub. "You gonna sing for me, Stells?" He encircled her clit with his fingertip and drew back up. "Let me play that pussy?" “Fuck...” she groaned, leaning further back into him, her body sagging into his. She loved his dirty talk, being so in control for most of the time, she enjoyed letting herself go when it came to this. “Feels good, Jakey.” "Yeah? You like it when I touch you, feel my fingers inside? Stretching you for my dick?" He dipped two fingers inside, his thumb able to press into her sensitive clit. "Jesus, fuck," Stella gasped as he moved into her. The thickness of his fingers felt like she was on fire and had her silently begging his foreplay wasn't long. "So fucking wet already, babe." Jake was enjoying the feel of her on his fingers. It'd been a long while since he'd felt all of her and he hid his desperation well behind dirty words and filthy ministrations. His mouth moved down her neck, teeth gently nipping at her skin as he went, lips curling into a smirk as he listened to her softly groaning. Her hips moving in time with his hand as his fingers curled inside her. Water began to just teeter over the tubs edge but neither paid any mind. Stella's breathy pants bounced off of Jake's cheek as he watched himself finger fuck her. "I love it when you fuck my fingers, baby." "Oh God," Stella squeaked, for she was going to hit that edge and fall right over. The time between, the angst of their mission and Jake's mouth were nearing too much. "Jakey, please," she moaned. "Cum on my fingers, Stells, then I'm gonna fuck you, really...really... good." With each 'really' Jake barely rutted against Stella, just enough to tease her at what he wanted to do to her. He wanted to slide in, slow and deep, her body seated on top his, while he feasted on her nipples and neck. He wanted to be buried into her to the hilt and paint her walls with his seed. Stella came undone as her body quaked against his chest. With a breathy squeak she went rigid and her hand flew from the side of the tub, wrapping around is wrist as she came, her walls clamping around his fingers "Fuck, Stella, turn around baby, sit on my lap." She was as languid as the water around them, her body drowning in ecstasy as Jake helped her turn in the small space. His fully erect and throbbing cock stood at attention, his head just above the water’s surface. He guided Stella just where he wanted her and slowly dipped inside her still trembling walls. The sensation was more than Stella had bargained for and she moaned out loudly as she sank into him. "That's it baby, let them hear you" Jake bucked a bit into her, closing the gap that Stella was slowly shortening, his cock fully inside her and he moaned himself. She felt so good, so tight. Like there was no one else made for him but her. The thought gave him a flutter deep in his belly. She was his, and would be forever, if she'd have him. Stella rolled her hips against his, grinding down the pressure on her sensitive clit while Jake's lips moved over her skin, nearing her pert nipples. His hands wove around her back, fingers pressing into her spine as he bobbed his hips up and down to meet with her rolls. It was a dirty grind, water sloshing out of the tub like waves licking the shore. When Jake found a nipple and rolled it between his lips, his tongue tasting her flesh and his teeth nipping at it, Stella tugged at the little bits of longer hair atop Jake's head as she squeaked out a pleasurable sound. One of Jake's large hands palmed down her back and over the curve of her ass, squeezing her cheek as she rocked all whilst he played with her breasts. The same hand soon found its way between their bodies and pressed hard into her clit before smoothing upward over her tummy and grasping her left breast, kneading it gently. The more he gave, the more she took and before long she was grinding down against him, her breathing ragged as he thrust up, hard, his hands dropping to her hips. “Come on baby,” he groaned as her head fell back, his lips nipping against her collar bone, “fuck, I love you.” “Love you.” She groaned as he thrust up, her hands curling over his shoulders, nails biting his skin. “Shit, Jakey, I’m gonna...” “Cum baby, come on.” His jaw clenched as her body trembled and her eyes fluttered closed, as she let out a broken, whispered groan. As she clenched around him, Jake gave a soft growl of his own, his hips moving slightly faster as he rutted up, pulling her down onto him. The coil in his abdomen that had been tightening and tightening snapped and his entire body surrendered, a surge of warmth spreading from his belly outwards and he stilled, his cock twitching as he came. A few sloppy thrusts later and he stilled with a satisfied him, his hands moving to smooth Stella’s damp hair back off her face as hers cupped his cheeks. She simply looked at him for a moment and he gave her a grin causing her to chuckle as she pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. “Jesus Christ, that was amazing.” Jensen mumbled and Stella grinned, her lips meeting his once more. They stayed still for a moment, soft kisses being shared until Stella shivered a little and Jake helped her move off him so he could get out of the tub and leave her to finish off. He grabbed a towel and his glasses from the basin unit before he dried off, gathered his discarded clothes and headed onto the small landing of the accommodation. Pooch, who was just emerging from the other bedroom shot him a look. “You better clean that damned bathroom before I use it.” He arched his eyebrow and Jensen grinned. “You’re like the best disgusting person I know.” Pooch continued with a snort before he nodded his head to the stairs. “Take it you’re two ain’t coming?” “Already came, Poochy.” Jensen grinned as he walked to their bedroom, laughing as the sounds of Pooch’s groans of disgust hit his ears.

****

Stella woke the next morning to a burning deep in her core and Jake’s face between her legs. Her orgasm roused her much better than any alarm or cup of coffee ever could and as Jake stuffed himself insider her, his mouth nipping softly at her neck, she smiled softly to herself as she realised he’d done this very thing the first morning they’d moved up to college together.

After pulling on her Army Uniform cargo pants, Stella tucked her khaki green tee into the waist and adjusted the belt before she sat down and laced up her heavy boots as Jake fiddled with the collar of his, complaining that it felt tight. When Stella pointed out he was slightly more built than he had been last time he wore it a good few months ago, he grinned and flexed his arms to give her the ‘gun show’ making her snort and shake her head.

They headed out of the house and walked the half a mile to the main gate of the base, flashing their ID and making their way to the Mess for breakfast where they met with the rest of the team, Pooch giving them another filthy look as their antics had continued beyond the bathroom and much later into the night. Once they’d finished eating, they each grabbed a coffee to go and headed down to the War Rooms - a network of conference rooms and IT facilities nestled in a bunker along the runway of the RAF Base - and settled down in the leather seats around the large, polished mahogany table ready for whoever it was from the CIA that would be arriving to give the debrief.

They’d been there for roughly half an hour or so and Jensen was already bored. He was messing around, twirling his pen in-between his fingers, the other tapping against the disposable coffee cup. After a pause, he took his pen and began to draw a face on the white plastic lid.

“What are you doing?” Stella looked at him, having caught his fiddling in the corner of her eye.

“I’m bored, Stelly,” his voice was a childish whine, “where is this guy anyway? We’ve been waiting here for like thirty minutes!”

“Just take the fucking pen off him, Arty.” Roque groaned. Stella reached over for it and snatched it away”

“Hey, that’s mine!”

“Jensen, shut up!” Roque shot back and Jensen turned to him.

“Why? It’s not like anyone is talking anyway.”

“You, you’re talking. As usual. Put a sock in it.” Roque turned to Stell as Clay stood up and walked to the door to see if anyone was coming. “How the fuck do you put up with this?”

“He has his mouth busy most of the time.” Stella quipped as she leaned back in the chair and Jensen gave her a dopey grin.

Both Roque and Pooch let out noises of disgust, Cougar’s chuckle just audible from the other side of the table where he lounged with his feet on the table and his hat pulled down over his eyes.

“Yeah, laugh all you want but next time it’s you sharing the digs with them.” Pooch looked at him. “I’m done.”

“Chill out.” Cougar replied and Pooch blinked.

“Did you just tell me to chill?”

Cougar smirked in response, tipping his hat up slightly to flash Pooch a wink.

“The Pooch is perfectly chilled.”

“The Pooch refers to himself in the third person,” Jensen shook his head, “that’s so not chill.”

“Oh…this just got even better.” Clay’s remark had them all turning towards him, the teasing banter dying off as Roque sat up.

“What?”

Clay simply walked into the room, rolling his eyes. Less than five seconds later, in walked a very familiar face.

“Oh great.” Jake mumbled as Stella blinked, coming face to face with her ex for the first time since he’d stormed out of her apartment all those months ago.

“Good Morning.” Evan greeted them all before he nodded to Stella, a little awkwardly. “Hey.”

“Evan, hi... what are you... what are you doing here?” She asked and Evan took a deep breath.

“It was my intel you guys were running down so I’m here for debrief.”

“That was your intel?” Pooch spoke and Evan nodded.

“Yeah, we’ve been tracking Khalil for a while and reached out to him a while ago to offer him a deal. He declined so we needed to bring him in.” Evan nodded. “His activities were giving us cause for concern, not to mention with the Russians behind him. We needed to make the grab before he got even more power behind his cause.”

Jake sensed Stella tensing slightly besides him and slid his hand over her thigh. Her fingers gently locked over his as she kept her gaze on Evan, who had spotted the subtle movement of Jake’s hand. He didn’t say anything, instead the man’s eyes flicked to Jake’s who simply stared back before Roque chipped in.

“So, we got the guy. Did he give you what you needed?”

“I can’t tell you that.” Evan replied, apologetically. “It’s classified, need to know basis.”

“In that case I don’t wanna know.” Pooch mumbled.

Stella’s mind was whirling. Truth be told, she’d started to think about exactly why they’d been dispatched to capture this particular guy alive, when his type were ten-a-penny all over the place. There was a lot more to it than the fact this guy’s ideologies didn’t fit with those of the Western World. And then, the final little piece dropped into place in her analytical brain and she turned her head to see Clay watching her.

“Did you know?” She asked.

Clay shook his head. “Suspected but…”

“Suspected what?” Jensen looked at Clay then Stella. “Babe?”

She took a deep breath. “There’s a reason why we were on a capture not kill mission. At first I assumed it was to do with not making him a martyr but then throwing him in prison would cause just as much unrest. But that unrest will die down when he’s released in a few months in exchange for his cooperation for details on his Russian backers and arms suppliers.”

The rest of the team looked at her, then to Evan who blinked, his face remaining stoic as Stella shook her head and continued.

“He then lets his supporters know that he and his friends in Russia had a disagreement and he was traded away. He retires to some island somewhere, under the careful watch of the UN and fades away into non-existence.”

There was silence and Evan took a deep breath, “it’s not quite as simple as that, Stel…Stevenson, but yeah, that’s pretty much the basics.”

“God, this is so fucking bent.” Stella shook her head. “It’s no wonder the entire world hates us.”

“You know, considering you technically work for the CIA and the Armed Forces, you kinda signed up for this.” Clay raised his eyebrow as Stella rolled her eyes.

“We tried to negotiate terms with him. He turned them down.” Evan replied, matter-of-factly. “So we sent you in to enforce them. The rest, as I stated a minute or so ago, you really don’t need to know.”

“Yeah, classified, we heard.” Clay replied, leaning back in his chair.

“Did you suspect the Lebanese Special Service would try a double cross?” Roque looked at Evan and the man shot him an apologetic look.

“It was always possible, yeah. But you know how it goes…”

Roque scoffed and Cougar shifted in his seat, Evan’s eyes flicking to him before he took a deep breath and shrugged.

“If it helps, think of the bigger picture. We remove their leader, cut off the Russian support, and suddenly the LFP is nothing more than an overhyped street gang...”

“Yeah, that doesn’t really help.” Jensen wrinkled his nose and Evan shrugged, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Well, that’s your opinion. Not ours.” He cleared his throat, “anyway, it’s done. The mission is over. For now, you guys need to lay low. We’ve cleared it with the RAF for you to stay in the area for a while until all the fuss about Khalil going missing has died down. We’ll be monitoring all the usual lines and channels of communication, making sure no one has your descriptions and doing what we can to keep your faces out of the public eye.” Evan paused. “But, I’m sure I don’t need to remind you what happens if we can’t.”

At that The Losers simply looked at one another. Evan was right, they didn’t need reminding. That was the whole point of the CIA running the number of Black-Ops teams it did. It gave them a way to do the slightly grey area dirty jobs and remain at arm’s length, denying all responsibility if required.

“Any idea on how long that’s gonna be?” Pooch asked.

“Probably be a week, maybe two. But once we’re confident we’re clear, we’ll send word and get you back to the US.” Evan replied.

“So what you’re saying is we got two weeks off?” Cougar spoke and Evan looked at him, giving a shrug.

Pooch grinned and fist bumped Cougar.

“Are you staying here too?” Jensen looked at Evan and he shook his head.

“Don’t worry, I’m flying back to Virginia tonight”

“I’m not really worried…” Jake shrugged. There was a moment where both men simply stared at each other until Clay coughed.

“Right, is there anything else?”

“Mission reports due as usual, next forty eight hours.” Evan turned his head away from Jensen and looked around the team. “I’ve arranged access into the Red Network from the hub on the base. Your liaison officer, Wing Commander Levinson, says he can set you guys up with time on the range or the phys- ops courses too, have you join their drills if you want. Might be an idea to keep yourselves sharp.”

Cougar, Pooch and Jake all groaned at the suggestion of the physical training whilst Roque and Stella looked at one another, nodding.

“Yeah, I can go for that.” Roque agreed.

“And that’s it, other than on behalf of the CIA I wanted to thank you, it was a slick operation. We’re really pleased with how this one turned out.”

The team exchanged looks and soft smiles, before Clay stood up.

“Okay, Losers. Let’s grab some more coffee and then we can regroup. Figure out what we do for the next two weeks.

Movement filled the room as they all stood to leave, and just as Stella had picked up her empty coffee cup, Evan cleared his throat.

“Stella, can I have a word?”

She hesitated and Jake turned to look at her. He opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off. “Jakey, it’s fine. Go, I’ll catch you up.”

He blinked, before he turned to Evan, the glare he gave him positively filthy before he turned and left the room. Evan and Stella stood still watching him go, before Stella turned to Evan, the man giving her a soft smile.

“You look well. Being happy suits you.” His tone carried no anger, and Stella found herself returning his smile before she sighed and shook her head.

“Listen Evan, I...”

“It’s okay Stella,” he spoke, holding his hand up, “I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to apologize. I was an asshole when you broke up with me.” Stella took a deep breath as he continued. “The way I acted and the things I said were horrible. My mother would be ashamed and I just ...” he shrugged. “I wanted to let you know I was sorry, that’s all.”

Slightly surprised at his outwardly contrite tone, Stella simply shook her head. “It’s okay. You were hurt. I hurt you.”

“Yeah you did but that doesn’t excuse the way I reacted. So, like I said, I’m sorry.” He smiled, gesturing with his hand to the door. “And I’m glad that you and Jake are, you know, making it work.”

As he spoke the final like, that tell-tale nerve in his jaw twitched a little and Stella knew that he wasn’t happy, at all. But, given that the rest of his apology had been genuine, she accepted the gesture for what it was.

“Thank you.” She gave a soft smile. “And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. I did like you Ev, it just…”

“It wasn’t meant to be.” He shrugged. “Yeah, I get that now. And hey, no hard feelings. If we hadn’t broken up I’d never have met Talia so…”

“Oh, you’re seeing someone?”

“Yeah.” Evan nodded. “It’s early days, we’ve had a few dates and been away for a weekend. She’s nice, I like her.”

“Good, well I hope it works out.” Stella smiled. There was a pause before she took a breath. “I better…” she jerked her hand towards the door and Evan nodded.

“Of course…”

“I’ll, erm, see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah, take care, Stella.”

“You too, Evan.”

With a final smile at one another, Stella left the room and headed back up the corridor. Jake was waiting outside for her, leaning against the wall of the building.

“All okay?” He asked and she nodded.

“Yeah.”

“What did he want?”

“To apologise for the way he acted when we broke up.” Stella shrugged. “That was it, oh, and he’s seeing someone else. Which is nice. I hope it works for him. He’s a good guy.”

Jensen made a non-committal noise in his throat and Stella looked at him. “Don’t start.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t need to.” Stella rolled her eyes. “Stop.”

“Okay, okay, sorry. I just, well, I don’t know what it is but I still don’t trust him, never have. He’s shady.”

“He’s an intel officer for the CIA.” Stella scoffed, taking Jake’s hand. “We’re a Black-Ops team. Far more shady than he is.”

“Suppose.” Jensen sniffed, as the two of them walked down the side of the building. As they went, Jensen suddenly had a sense of unease. Almost as if they were being watched. He turned his head to glance over his shoulder, but found no one. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head, telling himself he was being ridiculous. They were on a secure Military Base, probably the safest place they could be given the circumstances.

“You okay?” Stella asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” he assured her, “so, the rest of The Losers are in the coffee shop. Pooch is already on his phone checking out local bars, fancy hitting a few tonight?”

“Why not?” Stell grinned up at him, leaning up to place a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw. Jake smiled, and pulled her closer as they headed off to join up with the rest of the team, casting a final glance over his shoulder, once more seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

**** Chapter 10

#too loose and you'll lose it #jake jensen #jake jensen x ofc #jake jensen x original female character #the losers #the losers fan fiction #jake jensen fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans characters

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spideymarvelws · 3 years

Text

Ready Or Not

Prince!Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Main Masterlist / Add Yourself To My Taglists

A/n : I like royal aus leave me alone

Summary : With the plan in action to finally take down the king, you and Tom have a final talk before the battle for freedom, not before he has a vivid nightmare leaving him questioning if everything is really worth it to save his people.

Warnings : cursing, descriptions of blood, death (animals and people), violence, floof and angst

Word Count : 4.2k

...

“Again,”

“But father-”

“I said again.”

Tom took a deep breath, rolling his shoulder muscle before loading his bow with an arrow, raising it up and drawing it back. He didn't want to release it, he already killed so many harmless animals that his father just left to rot, not even taking it in to use as food for the kingdom.

Sure, the rest of the animals of the forest would have a field day with the meat, but what was the point when they had the power to do it themselves? Maybe it was just the sick smile on his father’s face when he walked up to the dead corpse, kicking its limp body in victory. He could still feel the bile in his stomach threatening to rise when every arrow hit, killing the helpless animals.

“Shoot it Thomas,” His father whispered faintly in his ears, a harsh hand falling on his shoulder, “Shoot it in the heart,”

Tom held his breath, aiming the arrow at the animal before finally releasing, flinching at the sound of arrowhead puncturing the flesh. He looked down at the ground in shame, not wanting to see the dead animal bleeding out on the floor.

“Good job,” his father said, patting his shoulder, “She’s going to enjoy the pain,”

Tom grew confused at his fathers words, usually he wouldn't question his outlandish comments but the exhaustion creeping up his back took away the filter keeping his thoughts to himself, “I don’t know about that father,” he scoffed, ready to move on the next victim if that meant getting back to the castle early.

“Shame really, she was a beautiful one,” he continued, ignoring his son’s words, “But that’s what you get when you come into the wrong territory,”

Tom rolled his eyes, “Pretty sure we’re the ones who invaded them,”

“Still, I'm still powerful enough to let you do the work for me,” he cackled, “Powerful enough to make you kill your own friend or was she more than that?” he said slowly, his voice becoming dangerously low,“Y/h/c hair, y/e/c eyes and a spirit that lead to her demise,” his voice started to echo, “By your own hand,”

Tom’s eyes shot open, he looked back at his father before looking at the clearing where he shot the deer. Instead of the bleeding out animal he expected, he saw you, on your knees with an arrow sticking straight out of your chest.

“No,” he uttered, dropping his weapon and running to you, sliding to his knees as your body fell, limp in his arms.

“No, no, no,” he repeated, holding you close to his chest. The arrow melted away, leaving a hole in the middle of your body.

“If only you didn’t bring her into this,” his fathers voice continued to boom in the back of his mind as he shakily put his hand on your cheek, drips of water falling from his eyes and on to your skin, “If only you were not foolish enough to defy me!”

Tom tried his best to block out his father's voice, which was much easier than he expected when he looked down at your face. Blood seeping out of your nose with your eyes wide and blown without movement and your skin becoming dull and cold to the touch. He didn't care that the red liquid stained his clothes or his father’s hurtful words, all he cared about in that moment was you.

He clenched his eyelids together, “This isn't real, this isn't real,” he said to himself, rocking your body back and forth in his arms as he held you impossibly closer, “This- this isn't real,”

“Is...it?” you croaked, coughing up a wad of blood from your mouth, “Is- Is this not reality?”

“It can’t be,” he cried softly, shakily wiping the blood dripping down from your nose, “I won’t allow it,”

“B-but you d-did,” you began coughing again, “I’m dead,” your voice trailed off, “I’m dead because of-” you paused, your lip quivering, “because of you,”

Your head drifted to the side, your eyes becoming empty with no movement. Tom couldn't breath, his mind too busy trying to process your still body in his arms, your skin blotched with blood and the words that just spilled from your mouth. He sat in silence, completely in shock as the warm touch from your skin was replaced with the coldness of the snow falling from the sky.

“Don’t worry Tommy,” his father sneered, a hand falling on his shoulder just like moments ago, “She won’t be going alone,”

Tom raised his head, suddenly he wasn't in a dense forest but a large plain, bodies splayed all along the dry grass. They continued on for as long as he could see, disappearing into the distance. The ones closest to him he recognized, close colleagues and friends part of the rebellion, the same people he convinced years ago to join his cause having the same fate as you. When he looked back at your face, it was replaced with a dirty skull, the rest of your body just a pile of bones.

He pushed away the skeleton, crawling backwards when his father began walking over the corpses, kicking them aside like pebbles on a sidewalk.

“I thought I taught you well, I thought you were ready to be the future king,” His father made large steps towards him, his stance looming over him, growing and growing with each one. His boots hitting the floor shook the ground beneath him, keeping him stuck to the floor and unable to stand.

Soon his back hit the trunk of a tree, stopping him in his tracks as his father came closer and closer.

“All these men, they could've been safe, alive with their families,” he chuckled, “But now there dead, dead because of you,”

Suddenly his father grew, his gold tunic stretching, tearing off his chest as his skin morphed into a black mush. His eyes turned sharp and red, glowing as the wind began to blow harshly, taking away some of the black liquid, only for it to grow back, patching the menacing monster his father turned into.

But before it could swallow him whole, he shot up in his bed drowning in sweat.

His hand slapped to his chest as he steadied his breathing, the other supporting himself on his makeshift mattress of leaves and scraps of cloth. He quickly took off his shirt, throwing it off to the side as he bursted out of the tent, stumbling to the ocean.

As he reached the sand, he fell to his knees, his hands reaching for the water and splashing it on his face in a desperate attempt to rid his eyes of what he just saw, what he just lived through. But washing his face alone wasn't enough, your blood didn't just hit his face but his body, his clothes. He stood up shakily, walking slowly into the cold water.

As cold as your skin when you died in his arms.

He shivered at the thought, continuing to submerge himself in the ocean, feeling more and more at peace with each step. He walked until he was fully under, his body moving with the waves of the water, cleansing him from the night.

But his father’s sick smile haunted him, even in the tranquility.

It was the same smile he’d seen since he was little. He remembered his first memory of it, when he was only four standing out on the balcony as he watched him raise the taxes in the kingdom after the beheading of a guard who was conspiring against him.

His young brain didn’t comprehend what happened that day, but the days to come definitely showed the effects his father had on the people. He never traveled to the village often, but when he did he always managed to keep his head down, shame and guilt filling his mind at the clothes and jewels weighed down in his body when everyone else wore musty brown potato sacks.

The differences only became worse when he grew older, resenting his father more and more as he noticed the gap between him and his people, the rich and poor. He only ever kept the men who were useful to him, pushing everyone else aside as casualties of his power.

The last straw was when he was fourteen, when his father brutally murdered a man right in front of his family for not lowering the price of his wine. He ran into the woods that night, looking for an escape. But the shadows of the trees and rustle of the small animals made him even more scared and lost.

But that was when he found you running through the trees, giggling with a bunny in your arms. You spotted him cowering in the bush, offering your hand and your new pet as comfort. You were an orphan, a free spirit roaming the woods with the animals as your only friends. Later on he learned that you had a mentor who taught you your skills in swordsmanship only to lose a fight protecting you against his father’s guards.

You resented him at first upon seeing the emblem of the kingdom sewn into his clothes, but he gained your trust by ripping off the patch and stomping on it with his boots, offering you his companionship.

From there you two were inseparable, he snuck out to meet you almost every night either to talk, to train or to just stroll around, enjoying each other's presence. Sure, he had multiple friends back in the castle, he had his brothers who also joined him for the rebellion, but the bond he made with you was different to anything he’s ever had before.

You were the first person he went to when he started to conspire against his father. You were the person who helped him through it, who taught him things he never knew. You were his first everything, his first fight, his first loss, his first win, his first kiss and his first love.

He couldn’t lose you, anybody but you.

And seeing you, the blood, the look, the words spilling from your mouth. He couldn't help but think it wouldn't be just a dream, that his father would get to him, would change him back to the life of a royal and make him betray the only people he was able to call home.

He wasn’t ready to face his father, no matter how many times he told himself that he was just a person, in his eyes he was the black void he saw in his dreams. A monster that couldn't be defeated.

Before he could think further, his breath caught up to him making him choke.

He gasped as his face broke the water, flailing around his arms to stay up float. He didn't know how long he had been underwater, but it gave him enough time to come up with three conclusions;

That this rebelion wasn't going to work.

The fear of his father never left.

And he was going to loose you because he was to idiotic to keep you out of his father’s wrath.

He decided to lay in the water until the sun rose and his skin became wrinkly.

...

“They’re going to set up soldiers all around the walls, our objective is to break in without being detected,” your voice boomed through the cave, concentrating on the map drawn into the brown sand, “We have people on the inside prepared to give us armor and all the materials we need,” you looked up to the people around you, “I need everyone else on the outside, even with our intel, we don’t know what the king might have up his sleeve,”

Tom watched from the corner as everyone nodded their heads. He could see almost every emotion passing through their minds, fear, confusion, regret, determination. But it was too late for them too back out now despite whatever they may be thinking, it was too late for anyone. The plans have already been set, years of preparation for tomorrow couldn't go to waste.

“Any questions?” You leaned back on the rock you sat on, looking around at the people surrounding you. Nobody dared to say anything, only looking around to there fellow pairs, silently communicating with each other, “Great,” you took the silence as a yes, “get some rest everyone,” You looked up to him with a tired smile, “You’re going to need it,”

Tom looked on as everyone dispersed, walking with one another to their respective tents and beds for the night. Usually he would stay behind with you near the fire until it went out, talking about whatever came to mind. But this time he couldn't find the heart to approach you, images of his dream flashing through his mind every time he caught a glimpse of your face illuminated by the flames.

Images of your bloody face, the harsh words seeping out of your mouth along with his father’s words jabing at his chest, making it hurt more and more with every passing second.

To the point where he couldn't handle standing in your presence much longer.

He walked out of the cave, not caring for the people he bumped into on the way out. He could feel the weight on his chest leave as soon as he caught a glimpse of the sun leaving from behind the ocean.

Despite the pressing times, the location of your lookout was beautiful. A cliff located on the outskirts of the kingdom, near the waters where the docks were only a short trip away. Sure, it was risky to set up so close to the castle, but you insisted solely because of the view.

“Shouldn't you be sleeping with everyone else?” You said from behind him, your footsteps crunching the dry grass beneath it.

“I could say the same for you,” he replied, keeping his gaze on the sea, he knew that he couldn't face you yet, but he didn't have the heart to walk away from a conversation, “You out of all of us need it,”

“We all need it Tommy,” You sighed, waking up beside him with your arms crossed, “Tomorrow is-,”

“-a very important day, I know,” he nodded his head playfully, “You’ve said it to me hundreds of times today Y/n/n, I’m surprised you didn't include it in your little speech,”

“Did you not like it?” You teased, “I thought it was quite good,”

“I’ve heard it so many times i’ve become numb to it at this point so I can't really say,” he chuckled, dropping his head to the floor, “But for your ego, it was amazing,”

“Thank you,” you said smugly, “You would have done well to you know, instead of brooding in the corner,”

“Your the spokesman here, not me,” he grinned, “I’m the one who has to safe your ass when it goes poorly,”

“I’m sorry, was i not the one who had to teach you how to hold a fucking sword properly?”

“I’m good with a sword!”

“Against a hundred men?”

“Well-,” he cut himself off, thinking of the odds in the situation. He had skill, but he was no wear as agile with a sword as you were. That, and bows weren't made for close combat.

“Thought so,” you smirked when he kept silent, pulling out a blade from your belt and twirling it around in the moonlight. You jotted it in his direction, giggling as he flinched away from the weapon, “Seems all of my training has been for nothing,”

“I’m not scared of the blade, I’m scared of you there’s a difference,”

“Then I take that back, I’m doing my job just fine,” you smiled, putting away your weapon,“Look, I have the sword and you have the arrows,” you shrugged, nudging his side with your elbow, “We make the perfect team,”

“Yeah,” he sighed, looking off at the sea, “Perfect team,”

You bit your lip, looking off into the distance with him. Tom was never one to express his emotions often, he always kept up his reputation of being a stone cold leader. But in your eyes, he was as easy to read as a children's book. You knew when he was holding back, the stiffness in his posture, his subtle lean away from you. You knew that if you leaned in to take his hand in comfort, he would deny it.

Even this morning, you noticed his hesitation to approach you with his usual hug, instead he gave you a half hearted smile before taking his horse for a ride in the nearby field. He didn't come back till sun set, waiting till the meeting to even be in the same room as you. You were surprised he didn't walk away when you approached him by the cliff, but you were grateful that he didn't.

“Everything alright?” you started, looking at him in hopes that he would make eye contact.

“You already know the answer to that Y/n,” he sighed, passing his hand over his face.

You nodded, pushing your hands into the pockets of your pants, “Well, are you going to tell me about it or just stand around stand around like a little gremlin,” you tried to make a joke but it fell flat.

Tom opened and closed his mouth, his face twisted from worry to anger to sadness. It was hard to keep up with only the side profile you saw.

“I had a dream,” he finally mumbled, letting out a deep sigh, “Well, more like nightmare,”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I-” he ran his hand through his hair, “I don't know?” he paused, “I guess, I’m just having second thoughts about this, about all of this, ”

Your first instinct was to drill him about what he was thinking, that second guessing himself the night before you stormed the castle was stupid, irresponsible and a risk to the whole operation. But this wasn't some random person part of your people, this was Tom, your best friend, alliance and closest person you had.

“What happened?” you whispered, wanting nothing more to take his hand and pull him in a hug, “Tommy-”

“It was about you,” he finally turned to face you, his eyes red, ready to burst into tears, “It was about you, and my father and everyone who walking into this fucking mass suicide,”

You stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

“There were bodies Y/n, bodies of everyone and my dad he- he-,”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he took his face in your hands, rubbing the tears that began to spill from his eyes.

“I just don’t understand,” he shook his head, “Why can’t we just leave, build a new life away from everything,”

“We can’t leave everyone behind,” you said softly.

“They have a choice whether they want to stay or not in the kingdom! Why should we risk our lives for there's!”

“You and I both know that they don’t have a choice Tom, not when your father is in rule,”

He sighed, licking his chapped lips, “I know, I know,” he put his hands on top of yours, “I just wish there was another way,”

“Me too Tommy,” You pulled him into a hug, his face burying itself in the crook of your neck, “But the way that I think it, if everything happens the way it’s supposed to, we could finally have the freedom we deserve. We just need to hang in there, you need to hang in there, okay?”

“I will,” he mumbled into your shoulder, “I’m just-” his breath hitched, “I’m scared of my father Y/n, I’m scared of what he’s capable of,”

“But we’re capable of more,” you pulled back, whipping the excess tears from his eyes, “We’ve been planning this for years Tommy, for years we’ve stood on the sideline watching as he terrorized the people of his kingdom, the kingdom that is rightfully yours,” you smiled, “If anything, he should be more scared of you,”

Tom scoffed, “I fine that hard to believe,”

“Well it’s true,” his hands moved to your waist, squeezing gently as you continued, “You’re no longer that scared little boy from years ago Tom. You’ve grown so much in not only your skills but your leadership. All these people have stuck with you because they believe in you, you made them believe that a life of freedom is worth fighting for,”

“That wasn't all me-”

“Tom, you convinced me that our freedom was worth fighting for, you’re the reason I’m here,” you brought your forehead against his, “You’re a natural born leader Tommy, and I have no doubt in my mind that when you face your father all fear will go away and turn into the righteous leader your made to be,”

Tom looked at you with glistening eyes, his lips slightly parted as he took in your words, “Do you really think so?”

“I know so,” you whispered.

“Y/n, I-”

“You don’t need to say anything,” you smiled, “I just- I just wanted you to know that,” you chuckled awkwardly, releasing how close the both of you had gotten.

You moved to pull away but his hands on your hips kept you still, pulling you even closer against his chest, his breath hot against your face.

You’ve always had those feelings about Tom, the butterflies flying in your stomach every time you talked. Your words became short when he looked into your eyes with his deep brown orbs.

But you always pushed it aside, for the country, for your people and the fear that he wouldn't feel the same.

“When- when this is all over,” he started quietly, “I’m not taking the crown Y/n, I can’t after everything we’ve been through, you know this,” he sighed, “I’m suppose to tell you this after the rebellion but, I found a cottage in the woods near the rivers, spent time cleaning it and i’m planning on living there for a while, at least after Harry takes my place on the throne,” he held his breath, “And I want you to come with me,”

You stood speechless at his suggestion. To be honest, you didn't know what you were doing after the rebellion was over. For most of your life you were so focussed on the outcomes of tomorrow that you never spent the time wondering what might happen after.

But one thing you knew for sure was that you weren't leaving your people, were ever they resided, you would stay with them. And that included Tom.

You were shaken out of thought when he stepped back, taking your silence as a nice way of telling him no. Before you could say anything though, he started rambling.

“You don’t have to of course, I’m sure you probably have your own plans after everything but I just thought I’d let you know,” he scratched the back of his neck, laughing off his nervousness and the rejection.

“How close is the cottage to the kingdom?” you asked, taking his hand to keep him from backing away any further.

“On horseback, maybe an hour ride?” he said.

You smiled, looking down before looking back up at him. You pulled him back against your chest, throwing your arms around his shoulders, “That sounds reasonable,” you giggled at his shocked face, “As long as were close by, I don’t see the issue with it,”

Tom let out a breathy laugh, wrapping his hands around your waist and hugging you tightly. He lifted you up in the air, spinning you around as you both erupted in giggles. All thought of war and fighting left your minds when he settled you back down, keeping eye contact as he smiled wider than you’ve ever seen.

WIthout thinking, you pushed your lips against his, immediately regretting it when he froze. But before you could pull away, he relaxed, pulling you closer and molding his lips with yours.

His lips were rougher than you imagined, dry against your skin but you could have cared less. Your fingers moved to tangle themselves in his dirty locks, smiling when he groaned into your mouth as you tugged on the strands, deepening the kiss. He passed his tongue on your bottom lip, asking for access which you granted, letting him explore your mouth for as long as he pleased. When he finally pulled away, he took your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling it gently.

“I’ve been waiting so long to do that,” he grinned, going back in to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“Took you long enough,” you giggled, nuzzling your cheek against his chest as you hugged him tightly, not wanting to let go.

Tom only tightened his arms, keeping you as close as possible. He didn’t know what the future held, he didn’t know if you’d both survive the fight tomorrow. But the one thing he knew was that right then, in that moment, he had everything he needed right in his arms.

And maybe, just maybe, things would be alright.

“We’re going to get through this Tom,” you mumbled.

“We are,” he said, resting his cheek on the top of your head, “We will, all of us will,”

...

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nissakii · 3 years

Text

Wedding Deal - Chapter 01 [Iwaizumi x Reader]

This is the story of how I traded freedom by becoming his fake wife”

– Y/N

Tip: If you are using Chrome there is a little add-on called InteractiveFics with that the story is much more vivid since Y/N will be replaced with the name you type in. Give it a try you won’t regret it~

Also if you want to read the stories early, they appear much earlier on our blog: nissakii.com, for those of you who like to read ahead since we don't upload on tumblr the exact time of the release.

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If there was one thing I hated the most, it was those banquets they held and princesses of each province having to attend. Even the ones that weren't supposed to become heirs or weren't of any importance like me.

I am the 3rd daughter and therefore I wasn’t necessarily needed at this event, yet the only comfort I had were one girl to my left and other to my right as both of them unlike me who was watched by my mother strictly, stretched out their legs in a very unlady-like way while one of them chewed curiously on one cupcake that seemed to be from another province.

"Do you guys get privileged food like that, oh wow I never saw something like that!", the one almost two years older than me said while taking another bite and leaning back before stretching straight and being reminded that this was an official meeting as she nudged her cousin to do the same.

"Hiyori, sit straight, and don't glare, you know our family will scold us if they take any photos!", Chiaki said while adjusting her dress that slipped away a bit on her chest and legs.

"So what? I don't care. We are not even royals or nobles unlike Y/N whose mother is going to devour her if she doesn't sit like a jerk- '', she was cut off.

"No cussing!", Chiaki shoved the weird cupcake into Hiyori's mouth and adjusted her dress in her stead.

I sighed deeply, "how many times do I have to tell you guys, I am just a princess by name, I am not important. Also Chiaki sometimes you behave more like a princess than I do, don't talk yourself down", and I regretted immediately saying that as she had that smile on her face while her eyes wanted to wring my neck.

"Ah must be nice to be a royal saying such things huh? Unlike us pebbles who were invited by your generosity", some men were staring at us and I felt uncomfortable.

"Yeah, nice to be a rich kid, huh. If I were you I would have bought all these shoes, girl and left them in debt. Wait you are a pebble, I am not one", Hiyori wiped her face and stared at her shoes, "I gotta get some new ones though."

"You got some this week", her cousin still smiled and even the men probably felt her annoyed vein popping from that mischievous grin.

"And?", was the cue that pulled the last string before I caught Chiaki in my arms in order to avoid her from choking her own cousin.

"Y/N let go", she muttered and despite that I sometimes feared her, this time it felt like I was holding a child, thank goodness I was sitting in the midst.

"Okay, Timeout prince number five just entered. Guess he is late", Hiyori pointed at a man with spiky hair, clothes in a navy blue suit with gold accents, black gloves and shoes as his gaze swept around the room before I felt Chiaki shift in my arms making herself comfy on me instead of backing off as she and her cousin analysed the guy.

"Who is he?", the one in my arms asked and Hiyori was much quicker than me answering.

"He is from the province of Aoba Johsai, 2nd Prince Iwaizumi Hajime. Despite that he hates events like this everyone needs to attend them. I heard the first prince already arrived too. But Johsai is really far away. Heard he came to find a suitor on his mother's behalf but shoved off marrying for years now", both of us stared at her and she shrugged.

"Okay I am the rich kid but how-"

"I got my ressources girl", she winked and stuck out her tongue as Chiaki shoved in a snack for her to eat casually.

"Our parents will kill us", Chiaki muttered and I nodded as Hiyori shrugged.

"I already had to attend the other event so I can roam around", but the freedom didn't last long before a tall and well-built guy blocked our guy with a stoic face and olive-colored hair he stretched out his hand like it was taught in etiquette class and asked Hiyori for a dance.

Chiaki immediately sat up like she was supposed to and we saw how Hiyori ignored the man at first.

"Lady, I may have not asked in a proper way but I want to take your next dance", the already deep voice of prince Ushijima had a slightly rough and strained undertone.

"Fine", she said after letting him stand for some minutes and took his hand as she whispered, "he thinks I am a lady pfft guess he doesn't know I am a commoner girl, let me teach that rich boy a lesson."

"And there she goes", Chiaki muttered and sighed worried about her cousin, "I guess she will be the one who gets a lesson, she got Ushijima of all people."

"What are you gonna do if they find out you are not royalty?", I asked not having thought this through when I invited them, my mother doesn't know that I befriended commoners yet she didn't ask for their rank this time.

"I guess I will ditch Hiyori and scram. The food is weird anyways and the people are super stiff, like look at that brunette guy he looks like he would kill someone in this room any time soon", she laughed.

"So you are a commoner", another deep voice let my heart drop to my feet and my guts twist as I held my breath, I didn't look up but a shadow was looming over us before I saw black shoes in front of me.

As my gaze wandered from the navy blue suit to a pair of olive-eyes my hands started sweating and I couldn't bring out a word as I saw the 2nd prince of Aoba Johsai leaning down right in front of me.

"W-Who?", I could only bring out and look away.

"Not you, I know you from other events, Princess Y/N but", his eyes wandered to the girl next to me as he fixed her and she smiled widely, if anyone else looked at her you would think she was not having a single problem.

"Me?", she asked in a friendly tone, one leg over the other.

"Yes. The one who called the first prince stiff and a murder", his gaze turned into a slight glare before I acted out of fear standing up and taking his arm as he looked at me surprised.

"M-May I dance with you Prince Hajime?", I stuttered my face red yet I feared if Chiaki was caught being a commoner and badmouthing the first prince that she wouldn't be simply lectured, no, worse....

"W-Wait, but-" as we turned around she was gone and the last thing I saw was that someone followed her into the crowd and I wanted to do the same before I felt a strong grip on my hand.

"Didn't you want to dance?", the man with a rough voice and the olive-eyes fixed on me didn't let go.

"U-Uhm-"

"Or did you want to trick me into one to shield your friend?", he tilted his head with slight disappointment on his face.

Okay Y/N... you have to keep calm, one dance it takes one dance and a bit of social distraction for him to let it go…

I tried to smile a bit concerned and nodded.

"I wanted to dance with you, yet I was afraid you would deny my wish since I asked you... it's against etiquette rules to ask the man to dance so-", he scratched his head with his other hand while not letting go of me.

"Well, if you wanted to dance, I don't see a problem nor would I tell anyone about something as strict as etiquette rules. I ever wondered if women actually liked to get asked out for a dance...", he muttered a slight shade of rose on his cheek while he stared intently.

I was also flustered by his honest answer.

"I-uh... I guess it is nice sometimes...but it feels also... unfair...", my gaze wandered to my mother who glared at me and signed for me to grasp myself and not slouch which I did.

"Even you", his eyes followed mine to my mother,"I guess we should make this a good one, and enjoy it while we can", he understood immediately and as he looked back there was a slight grin on his face.

"Just to tell you I am not much of a dancer unlike what rumors say about Hajime Iwaizumi", he muttered.

I laughed a bit and positioned myself as he held out his hand, "I guess it makes it much easier for me to easen up then."

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digitalworldbound · 3 years

Text

day five: alternate universe

a studio ghibli au where hikari is an only child and her mother has passed. luckily, the neighborhood boys offer to help find her.

The floorboards creaked under her socked feet, soot covering the once pristine cotton. Hikari didn’t care if her clothes got dirty, but she didn’t want to give her father another reason to fret over her.

Cardboard boxes littered the hallway. Despite moving in a week prior, neither her or her father had the motivation or strength to pry open memories. Instead, Hikari stacked the boxes in a makeshift castle. One day, she hoped that their Queen would find her way home.

But she had been there to see her mother’s coffin lower in the ground; she had held her father as he wept.

A bookbag hung mockingly in the kitchen. The first day of school, once the happiest day of Hikari’s life, now served as a reminder of yet another first her mother would miss. Her father slouched over the stove. Hikari couldn’t help but to feel responsible for the bags under his eyes. In between finalizing the funeral arrangements and moving across the country, he had little energy to spare for Hikari, much less himself.

A whiff of burnt eggs did little to calm her anxieties, but she stomached her breakfast like a dutiful daughter.

“See you later, dad.”

He gave a half-hearted wave as Hikari slipped out of the front door. For a moment, she considered staying home for another day. She could unpack her room and make sure that her father ate a decent lunch, but her silent wishes disappeared as a herd of boys clamoured down the dirt road. Their feet pounded the ground, a race in progress. Six bookbags struggled to maintain their grasps on little shoulders as the group ran down the road.

A raven-haired boy took the lead, navigating the rocks and potholes with a practiced ease.

From the end of her driveway, Hikari watched him draw nearer. Too focused on his impending victory, the boy failed to notice her as he stopped beside her.

“See, ‘Keru? I told you I could win!”

A head of sweaty, blond hair followed close behind. Once he caught his breath, he pushed his friend’s side. The victor erupted into giggles as he continued to antagonize his friend.

With a huff, the blond crossed his arms. His cheeks were still rosy from the wind, blue eyes bright with mirth. “That’s not fair, Ken! You got a head start!”

Before Ken was able to muster up a response, a second redhead stepped forward.

“Who are you?” An accusing finger hung in front of Hikari’s face. Six pairs of eyes, colored in surprised, focused on her. A flush crawled up her neck, her breath caught in her throat.

Her mother had taught her about the importance of a first impression, but any confidence Hikari had dissipated into the morning air. Her fingers had gone numb, palms clammy. A toe dug into the dirt, her eyes focusing on the path to school. They looked at her expectantly, eyes narrowed. Silence crackled like static, interrupted by impatience.

“She’s weird. Let’s go, Daisuke.” Ken pulled his mirror image along with him, scurrying away like frightened animals.

The others didn’t bother to stick around, chasing each other the rest of the way to school.

Hikari waited for their dust trail to settle before walking down the path. Anxiety welled into her stomach; her mother would be disappointed in her. A gentle gust of wind ruffled her bangs in reassurance.

Her feet carried her onward, further away from the comforts of her new house. The school building emerged from the meadow, a field of flowers surrounding it on either side. It reminded Hikari of the story books her father used to read to her before bedtime, back when his smile reached his eyes and her mother was there .

Throngs of children gathered like dandelion seeds on a breeze, rosy cheeks and kind smiles adorning most faces. The strange group of boys stood off to one side. Huddled in a circle, their eyes trailed her suspiciously as Hikari made her way into the building.

Her little hands clutched the straps of her bookbag, as if pulling it closer to her body would quench her worries.

Living amongst rice farmers and livestock had been her father’s choice. Hikari’s mother had been raised in the countryside, escaping into the city for her first taste of freedom. It was strange to think that her mother, headstrong and accomplished, had sat in this same room; studied at these same desks.

The room was large, accommodating for all of the children in the village. With the older kids staking their claim in the back, Hikari rushed to the last empty space.

A pair of large blue eyes gazed at her, fear puckering at their eyebrow. It was the blond boy from earlier, his cheeks still flushed from his loss. Hikari squirmed under his gaze.

His fear must have dissipated quickly. It was the only explanation Hikari had for the fingers that poked into her side between lessons.

“Psst. Psst, girl.”

Her pencil continued to scratch at her paper, dodging dirty looks from the other students. His fingers continued to dig into her sensitive side. Thin lips pursed as Hikari swallowed down the giggle that bubbled in her throat. It would be disrespectful to laugh while her teacher was talking, and she figured that disappointing her mother once already was enough.

Still, the corners of her mouth couldn’t help but to tilt upwards. Chocolate eyes danced around his cerulean ones, and his fingers stilled.

“My name’s Takeru. What’s yours?” Whispering came naturally to some while a sense of quiet evaded others. Hikari assumed that Takeru was a part of the latter, his voice bouncing off the walls.

Some luck must have been on her side. Their teacher had been distracted with the younger students, too encaptured in their homesick tears to hear the blond’s outburst.

“You need to be quiet or we’ll get in trouble,” she chastised. A crestfallen shadow danced across his features before the light returned to his eyes.

“But you never answered my question.” Takeru’s voice was more hushed than before - he was trying. A toothy grin was plastered on his cheeks, his eyes aglow with childish anticipation.

She slipped her given name through her teeth, turning her full attention towards the chalkboard.

Later, the late summer sun kissed her cheeks as school children began their trek home. Takeru rushed out behind her, looking more like a mother duck with five boys in tow than an elementary student.

“So, Hikari, since when did you live here?” Glasses glinting in the sunlight, it was difficult to see what the dark-haired boy was thinking. Several paces ahead, Hikari wracked her brain for his name. As soon as school ended, Takeru had wasted no time in introducing her to everyone. Their names swam around in her head, none of them sticking.

“My father and I moved here a few weeks ago.” She didn’t turn to them, nor did she offer any other explanation.

One of the boys scoffed. “Why’d you have to move here?” It must have been Ken, the one with angry eyebrows. Hikari stopped, turning to face him. “Well, it’s not like I had a choice. My dad just wanted a change of scenery ever since my mom went away.”

Iori’s sugary smile wilted, looking up towards the tallest of their group. “That’s sad. Right, Koushiro?”

He nodded while the others let silence wash over them. Pebbles crunched underneath them as they continued on. Wind whistled through the treetops, a babbling brook accompanying the group on their journey. Crickets chimed in harmony, the background music to a most auspicious moment.

“I know!” Takeru propelled himself beside her, arms flailing in excitement. “We can help you find your Mama!” Grabbing her wrist, he broke into a sprint. The air was warm as it ran through her short hair.

He guided them to the edge of woods. Trees stretched to the sky, their arms caressing the clouds. Hikari pulled herself out of Takeru’s grasp as the group followed him further into the forest. “Wait! Where are you going?”

Hikari could see her house just over the hill, her stomach twisting at the thought of going back to her boxed up home. The boys disappeared into the underbrush, their twinkling laughter chasing after them. Impulsively, she started after them, branches scratching at her cheeks. A stray root caught Hikari’s ankle. A pair of spindly arms caught her, Daisuke’s disgruntled expression greeting her.

“You should be more careful. I don’t want cooties.” He stuck his tongue out, weaving through the trees. It seemed as if the dust bunnies from her house had followed her here, dancing around the feet of her young companions. Cheerfully, the soot sprites lead them deeper.

The trees gave way to a clearing. Lush, green grass was bordered by wildflowers, the occasional bumble bee flitting around.

“This is exactly where a Momma would wait for her baby!” Takeru declared, a triumphant grin spread across his cheeks as if he had already won. The others seemed to agree, their chatter flowing freely amidst the tree trunks.

Boisterous plants sprouted at the meadow’s edge.With leaves as big as Iori himself, he found it no trouble to crawl underneath them. Using the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his glasses, Jou peered over the tops of the bushes. “Is she under there, Iori?”

Poking his head out from between the leaves, Iori shook his head. “It’s too dark under here for a grown lady,” he paused for a moment, brown eyes glistening, “And it’s too dark for six-year-old boys.” His voice wavered, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. In an attempt to avoid the inevitable, Jou tugged Iori out of the brush.

Little soot sprites tangled themselves in his hair, chittering at the commotion. “C’mon, you know it’s rude to ask for a free ride.” Not even enchanted dust bunnies could argue with Jou’s logic. They cascaded down to the ground, tittering as their host swatted at his hair.

Daisuke couldn’t help but to laugh from the treeline, legs dangling off Koushiro’s shoulers. Being the tallest in the group came with a price, one that he happily paid anytime his friends needed him.

From this new vantage point, Daisuke scanned the branches for something. “Hey, Hikari!”

Koushiro’s grip tightened on his knees as the pair turned towards her.

Alone, in the middle of the lush grass, she looked like a fairy. If fairies wore ill-fitting Pokemon theme shirts, that is. She turned towards them, a question dancing in her eyes.

“Does your mom like climbing trees? Maybe she got stuck!” Daisuke almost gave himself a pat on the back; he was so smart!

With the leaves ruffling his cheeks, Daisuke’s attention was easily diverted. He signaled for Koushiro to take him deeper into the woods, much to Hikari’s relief. She didn’t have the heart to say it out loud.

Not too far from her, Ken sat amongst the wild blackberry bushes. His cheeks were swollen with fruit, lips stained purple. Hikari plopped herself down beside him. With his mouth full, he was less likely to ask questions she didn’t want to answer.

Ken’s attempt at speaking was obscured by the berries, a few stray escaping past his lips. Hikari couldn’t stop her laughter, a relief from the turmoil that bubbled in her stomach. Picking a few fresh from the vine, Ken offered his sticky palm, blackberries glistening on top.

“Thank you,” she said, tossing a few in her mouth. Takeru plopped himself between the two, taking two of Ken’s berries for his own. “Wow, these are good!”

True to his boisterous nature, Takeru’s voice reverberated through the meadow. Four curious heads turned before they, too, joined the impromptu picnic.

“Hikari, do you ever think you’ll find your momma?”

She wasn’t sure who asked the question. Cicadas carried on their twilight lullaby as the sun kissed the horizon in passing.

Fireflies began to twinkle at the treeline. Hikari looked up into six pairs of softened eyes. Though their curiosity rolled off of them like waves, none of them said anything else.

The grass was soft underneath her, the breeze caressing her cheek. “I’m sure I will, someday. But, for now, at least you guys keep me company.”

#takari week #takari week 2021 #takari #hikari yagami #takeru takaishi

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let-it-raines · 4 years

Text

Playing the Waiting Game

For years, Emma was told to stay away from pirates and others who did not uphold the integrity of the crown she was raised to represent. Emma was never particularly good at listening, however, and while she can still hear the words of her parents in the recesses of her mind, there’s a louder voice that keeps calling her to one particular pirate captain.

rating: a soft m

found on ao3 | here |

-/-

Birdsong rings out from above her, wings whipping through trees and rustling the leaves, and Emma uses the sounds to keep her own footsteps quiet. There are too many leaves and stray branches scattered on the forest floor, and while she doubts there is anyone else out here when most everyone has work to attend to, she still likes to keep her presence quiet. She’s old enough to know that she’s never truly alone, and lately there seems to be some kind of danger around every corner.

Or, at least, that’s what her father was always telling her.

She was brought up with these never-ending senses of freedom and adventure and hope, and while remnants of those three remain in some of her choices, there are voices in the back of her mind reminding her to be careful with her actions.

And with her heart.

One of those voices is her father. The other is very clearly her mother.

Right now, she’d rather not hear from either of them for once.

After a few minutes of wandering, she finally finds the spot for which she was searching. Beyond the trees but before the cliffs, Emma walks upon a spring with water babbling and then rushing away as it travels to the ocean. It is not salty like the water of the sea, isn’t constantly filled with fisherman and Naval officers and the occasional pirate ship , and she seeks the peace of it and how refreshing it is to bathe without having to listen to the commotion that’s always taking place in the tavern. Emma will be forever thankful for Granny and Ruby for giving her a room and work with good pay, but the simplicity and lawlessness of the place is not what she’s accustomed to.

Well, it is now.

Looking around once more, Emma decides there is no one around, and she shrugs off her cape before working around the buttons at the back of her dress. She doesn’t have on a corset today, can’t be forced into one unless she’s trying to earn more coin at the tavern or at the docks when she sells jewelry with Ruby, but undressing still brings her a sense of freedom and a lightness that couldn’t be found for many years.

“That’s the ability to breathe,” Granny always says. “Men take it for granted because they can wear whatever they damn well please, while we have to wear torture devices to keep our waists trim and our breasts high. Bloody ridiculous.”

When Emma’s toes sink into the water, it’s chilled. The month is not yet March, but it’s a particularly sunny day. Emma assumed the waters would be fine, and after a few minutes of shivering, they are. The Summer Isles are never too cold. Misthaven used to freeze every year, frost and snow covering all of the land, and while Emma does miss the snow, she at least doesn’t have to worry about losing her toes to frostbite.

Humming to herself, Emma takes her hair out of its plaits and then wades beneath the water, letting every inch of her long, golden hair soak, before she swims to the shore and reaches over for the lotions she brought with her. This one smells of lavender, and while she knows that Ruby is not fond of the thought of becoming someone’s wife, Emma selfishly wonders if Ruby might marry Graham so that he can continue to bring soaps and lotions to the tavern.

Then again, Emma is sure she could procure these all on her own. She has some coin stashed away, could sell some of her finer dresses and jewels that she managed to bring with her, but doing that seems like erasing her parents.

Their voices pop back up again, such hope and optimism there, and she pushes them away.

Not today, not today, not today.

“If it isn’t Ms. Swan lazing about in the spring.”

Emma’s eyes spring open, and she sinks further into the water while her heart beats an erratic pace. What the hell is he doing here? How did he find her here? How did she not hear him walk over the crunch of the leaves on the ground?

“What are you doing here?” Emma finally manages to ask. He smirks, eyes looking downward, and she crosses her arms over her chest to cover her breasts.

“Well, I was going to endeavor to take a proper bath without being hounded by my crew, but it seems someone is occupying the spring. You’re making a mighty fine show of it, lass.” He raises his hands. “On my honor, I have seen nothing below those delicate shoulders of yours. Wouldn’t be proper.”

Emma rolls her eyes and starts floating toward her things while keeping an eye on him. He’s in nothing but his leathers and a long, dark shirt today that is open enough that it barely covers any of his chest. That’s not unusual, though, and she finds that her eyes linger at the dark patches of hair covering the strong muscle before they move up to the multitude of silver chains around his neck. Finally, though, they settle on the sharp, stubble-covered jaw and the white teeth showing in a smile that always makes her skin pebble up in gooseflesh.

One part of her wants to say that’s in a good way while the other is not so sure.

“Killian Jones, since when are you proper?”

He scoffs and places his hand on his chest, affronted. “I am always a gentleman, milady.”

“If you’re so much of a gentleman, why don’t you turn around and allow me to get dressed.”

“As you wish.”

“And don’t think I’m taking my eyes off of you for a second.”

He twists around and winks, the bastard. “I would despair if you did, but I promise to keep my eyes off of you, which is such a bloody shame.”

She has to bite her tongue. She doesn’t know if it’s to keep from laughing or scolding him, and since she seems to be at war with herself so much, she decides to keep her own mouth shut as she climbs out of the spring and moves to her clothes, pulling her shift down over her before dressing in more complete layers. The clothes cling to her wet skin, and her hair will take ages to brush through, but at least she’s no longer exposed to the elements and to Jones.

She’s not a prude. Really, many around the village would call her a whore because she’s been in a man’s bed before marriage, but she’s not particularly interested in societal norms anymore. But she doesn’t have much of an interest in Killian Jones seeing her in the nude if it’s not on her terms.

Ruby would cheer her on for that thought. Granny would likely tell her to watch herself.

“You can turn around now.”

He makes a show of it, slowly turning and sauntering toward her, and when he’s standing but a few feet away, she gets a glimpse at overly blue eyes that she could swear he managed to steal from the sea.

“You cut quite the figure in that dress, Swan.”

“I’m not wearing a corset.” “I think it is apparent that you need not wear one.”

Emma rolls her eyes and reaches up to start braiding her hair. “So, when did you return to the Isles?”

“A few hours ago. I was planning on bringing the men to the tavern tonight. We had a successful voyage. Figured we all deserved a celebratory drink.” “There are other taverns.”

“Ah, but none with bar wenches as pretty as you.”

This time Emma can’t hold back her laughter, and even with her head tilted back to the sunlight, she knows that he’s smiling.

“I am not a bar wench, and you are not courting me.”

“Why ever not, love?” he asks with a wink. Even then, though, he steps closer to her, and she allows him to place his hand and his hook on her hip. This isn’t unfamiliar territory for them, and she knows herself enough to know that one day she’ll cave. Is it really caving when it’s what she wants? “I could court you. Believe it or not, I was taught how to properly court a woman. I simply believe my way is more thrilling.” “That’s because your way involves rum and sex.” “You forget the gambling.” Emma scoffs, and Killian leans in closer, dipping his head to her neck so that she can feel the softness of his lips and the slight scratch of his beard move against the sensitive cords of her neck.

Fuck, that feels good.

To think that at one time she would have never dared to utter that phrase nearly makes her giggle.

“How could I – however could I forget the gambling?” “Maybe you were distracted,” he teases as his teeth gently bite down before pulling away. Emma gasps before she can stop herself, and Killian’s chuckle is warm against her skin. “I have been told I can be a distracting man.”

“In your dreams.”

“Ah, well, you are indeed in my dreams.”

She allows him to trail his lips against her skin for a few minutes, letting the pleasure rumble over her and settle deep in her belly, but then the voices are back, telling her that she’s better than a pirate, that this isn’t proper.

She never did care much about proper. Why would she now?

“I’ll see you tonight,” Emma whispers as she pulls herself away, heart thumping. Killian’s cheeks are red, his chest heaving, and she knows if she looked down, his trousers would be tight. “I’ll find time to play cards with you, and you can tell me about your journey.”

“Your heart’s desire, Swan.”

And then she’s gathering all of her things and quickly moving away. By the time she’s out of the woods and back inside the perimeters of the village, she smells wood and salt, and she can’t decide if that is from the town or if it’s from Killian.

It’s been months since he’s been back. She doesn’t remember exactly when he left, but she always knows when the Jolly Roger is docked here. The tavern is usually the home to travelers and fisherman, but every few months, each bench and bed are filled with pirates. They may bring in a different type of man, but whenever they leave, Emma’s coin purse is always full from tips and Granny can afford to buy whatever materials she needs for upkeep.

They are all surprisingly well-behaved, but really, if one knows the captain, one knows that isn’t all that surprising at all. The man likes his rum and his card games, mostly because he keeps weighted dice and extra cards up his sleeve, and while a brawl or two does break out, it’s not what Emma thought to expect from a pirate.

“Pirates are no good, sweetheart,” her father once said as he paced back and forth in the library. “They come to our land and they plunder. They have been known to take women and ruin families. They threaten lives for gold. What could possibly be good about a pirate?”

What could be good about a pirate?

A part of her knows, but it’s her parents’ voices and their memory that keeps her from fully falling into finding out.

When she gets back to the tavern, Ruby is sitting in the corner on a bench with Graham, the two of them laughing at some private joke, and they don’t pay any attention to her as she sulks through and slips behind the bar and back into the kitchen where Granny is chopping up a few vegetables while water simmers over the fire.

“We’re going to be busy tonight,” Emma casually tells her, grabbing an apple. “I would get out the rum and whiskey.” Granny turns back to her and rises her brows. “How do you know that?” “I’ve heard a rumor the Jolly Roger is back.”

Granny puts her knife down and places her hands on her hips. “Did you hear a rumor, or have you seen that captain of yours already?”

Emma bites into the apple, and juices run down her face. “He is not mine.”

“Maybe not, but he’s sweet on you.” “And why is that a problem? Graham is being sweet on Ruby out there.”

“Graham is a respectable man.”

Emma opens her mouth to say that she knows for a fact that Graham isn’t quite as respectable with Ruby as Grammy thinks he is, but instead she takes another bite of her apple.

“Look,” Granny sighs, picking up her knife to cut her vegetables again, “you are a mature woman, and you are not my kin. But you also came here five years ago with a chest of expensive goods and not a lick of sense for how to live, so you cannot blame me for caring for you. That man is a sight for sore eyes, and if you want him to warm your bed over the next few weeks, I will not attempt to stop you. When he leaves, however, and he will leave, I don’t want to hear a word of melancholy out of you. Now help me cook dinner and then we’ll prepare for tonight, aye?”

Her parents would definitely be fond of Granny.

Emma helps cook and clean and knead the dough for the bread they’ll bake in the morning, and by the time the night falls and the tavern is lit by nothing more than candle and lantern light, every bench and barstool is full with the excess men leaning against walls and sitting on open window sills that allow the night breeze to waft in. None of them have had a moment to sit down or take a breath from constantly refilling drinks and serving food, and Emma’s feet are starting to ache from constantly standing. She should have had more time to soak them today during her bath, but there’s obviously something to be said about best laid plans being spoiled.

“You have an admirer,” Ruby tells her, nudging her shoulder. “I don’t think he’s been able to keep his eyes off of you all night.” “Yeah, well, we both know I’m his type. Look at all of the women surrounding him. He could easily pretend any of them are me.”

There’s a heaviness in the pit of Emma’s stomach when she looks over at Killian, at the way he commands his table with whatever tale he’s weaving and how the women bat their eyelashes at him and run their fingers over his shoulders.

“You are blind if you think any of them hold a candle to you, my dear. Why don’t you go talk to him, play a round of cards? It’s slowing down. If I need you, I can easily get you.”

“I don’t know, Rubes.”

“Why not? He’s handsome, he’s got a sense of humor, and he’s only ever here for a few weeks at a time. I know you’re not interested in a commitment. What else could you want?”

“I want,” she starts, but then she realizes she doesn’t know what to say. “I don’t know.”

Ruby sighs and turns to Emma, placing her hands on her shoulders and squeezing until Emma looks directly in Ruby’s eyes. “I don’t know who exactly you were before you came here, but I know you’re not someone who lets the opinion of others stop her from having a little fun. So don’t listen to my Granny. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. And don’t listen to whatever part of you says you can’t be with him because he’s a pirate. It’s just a job, Emma. It’s illegal in some places and not the most clean cut in others, but nearly everyone who walks through here is doing something that’s a little…crooked.” “That’s one way to put it.”

“Go,” Ruby insists with a shake of her head. “Have a good time tonight, and if you hate it, which you won’t, I will not bother you at all. I swear of it.” “I will hold you to your word.” “I know you will.” Ruby moves her hands from Emma’s shoulders and then loosens the laces on the front of her dress, exposing the tops of her breasts. Leave it to Ruby to do that. “Enjoy your night, and if you’re fortunate, your morning too.”

Emma rolls her eyes, but she listens…after she drinks a small glass of rum herself.

Killian isn’t paying her any attention as she shuffles through the tavern and moves to the back of the room where he’s sitting. He’s shuffling a deck of cards with his hand when she walks up while muttering something to the women ogling him, but he does finally look up when she learns over the table.

“What are you boys playing?”

He blinks, slowly, and his lips tick up to the right while his tongue flickers out, running over his bottom lip. It’s a look she’s seen before, but it’s not one she’s allowed herself to fully appreciate it.

That’s a damn shame.

“Smee,” Killian calls out, slamming the cards down, “come and take my place in the game.”

“But Captain – ”

“Smee – ”

“Aye, sir. I will gladly take over.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Emma chuckles. “I would have played with you.” “You would have lost,” he whispers as he stands and gets nearer to her. “It was rigged.”

Emma clicks her tongue. “I should have known.”

“Later, though, I might shuffle a new deck, and I give you my word that I will not keep any cards up my sleeve.”

“I make no such promise myself.”

He chuckles and dips his head until his lips brush against the shell of her ear. “Would you like to come back to my ship for a nightcap?”

Emma gulps.

“I don’t believe I can leave Ruby and Granny here alone when we have all of your crew.”

“Pity that. Still, have a drink with me. I did promise to tell you about my journeys.”

“That you did.”

They settle at a table in the corner of the tavern beneath one of the few closed windows. Ruby brings them a pitcher of ale and two small glasses, and before she walks away, she winks and makes a gesture that Emma hopes Killian ignored.

Or maybe she hopes that he saw it.

Emma does not know what she wants, truly, but she pushes down those thoughts and then downs a pewter of ale while Killian begins weaving a tale of his adventures. She can tell that he’s leaving parts out, that he’s curating this for her ears, and she tries to piece together the parts he is not sharing. He went to Misthaven, and she wants to know more.

How is it doing?

Are the people happy?

What about the flowers? Were any blooming despite the month?

Is there still a large rock with her name engraved in it sitting on the shore?

But why would he know any of that? He didn’t make the voyage there to quench her curiosity. He went to make a deal with another pirate captain, something about them both coming across an abandoned ship full of goods. She didn’t know pirate captains made deals like that. She thought they simply killed and attacked for what they wanted.

Then again, she’s starting to realize that maybe she doesn’t know anything about him past the rumors and few bits and pieces he’s shared over the years.

And yet she so readily lets him run his lips across her skin and was fully ready to share his bed tonight.

Emma sucks in a deep breath and slowly lets it out. Her heart is far from calm, and she suddenly can’t get enough air.

“Love,” Killian says, his thumb on her chin as he turns her attention back to him. “Are you quite alright, lass?”

Emma nods and swallows before plastering a fake smile on her face as her hand moves from her lap up to Killian’s hook, tracing along the metal. He watches her movements, and she knows she’s distracted him.

“I have a confession to make."

"I find most women do."

“I want to know how you got the hook. You hear so many stories…”

“And what have you heard?” “Nothing that I don’t want to hear from you.”

His brows pinch together, but then he softens them while his lips stretch and she has a view of his pretty white teeth. “An enemy took it from me because he believed I took something of his.”

“Something more important than a hand?”

“More important, aye.” Blue eyes glance away before he leans in closer, his hand pressing down on her thigh. “If we’re sharing secrets, would you like to tell me how you became so educated? Or why your attention on me has increased when I was speaking about Misthaven?”

“I’ve read about it is all,” she lies. “My parents taught me to read. I was fortunate.”

“And where are these parents now? Do they know you’re associating with dirty pirate captains?”

“You bathed earlier.”

Killian tilts his head back with a big, booming laugh, and half of the tavern looks their way before he can contain himself and look directly at her, his eyes piercing. “I bathe quite frequently, but I don’t believe I could win the approval of any woman’s parents. So, where are Mum and Dad, love? Do I have to worry about dear old father want to chop off my other hand?”

“No, no you don’t.” A sob catches in Emma’s throat, and this time she can’t swallow it down. “What’d you take from your enemy?”

“That isn’t important for you to know.” “I want to know.” “Well, it’s none of your bloody business!” He picks up the jug of ale and takes a large swig directly from it, his throat bobbing as he swallows. “I think I best let you get back to work, sweetheart. I’m suddenly not in a mood for a night cap.”

He moves his hand of her thigh and reaches into his pocket before tossing a small purse onto the table. “For your trouble. Have a good night, Swan.”

And then he stands and walks away, coat swishing behind him until he disappears out the tavern door and into the darkness of night.

-/-

When the crew of the Jolly Roger comes into the tavern the next night, Emma lets Ruby deal with the Captain’s table. She feels Killian’s eyes on her the entire night, and she knows they’re a darker shade of blue than they usually are.

‘Tis no matter. If he wants to push her and wants her to talk but she can’t ask him questions, then they’ll stay at this stalemate. He’ll be gone soon enough, and he’ll be nothing but a distant memory until he comes back.

If he comes back.

She doesn’t need to be sharing her bed with him anyhow. It would be momentary pleasure only to be left and disappointed again. If she wants someone to sleep next to at night with no connection, there are plenty of other men in the village. She doesn’t need him.

So Emma lets him come and go as he pleases, serves him when she has to, sells jewelry to his crew on the days she works at the docks, and he seems to be choosing to mind his own business as well.

Good.

Days pass before they turn into weeks, and the sting when Emma sees him has dissipated to nothing but the smallest of aches, and he seems to be coming into the tavern less and less. Ruby and Granny have both mentioned it, but Emma has brushed them off, not wanting or needing to explain any piece of her life to them no matter how good they’ve been to her.

She is allowed her own bits of privacy.

Tonight she is taking that privacy by sweeping the alley outside of the tavern while Ruby, Graham, and Granny work inside. It’s unsurprisingly busy tonight. With spring sweeping in, warm weather has come too, and it has allowed the ocean breeze to settle into the air, leaving a warm salt. There’s no need for cloaks and gloves and several pairs of stockings, and Emma longs for the summer even more now.

“Where are you taking me, Captain?” Emma hears a woman giggle, and she sinks back against the building, her heart pounding as loud as horse hooves. “Are we going to your ship?”

“I’m giving you your coin, you will tell my crew I had a nice time should the question arise, and then you may go and enjoy your night.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“I’m not going to sleep with you, lass,” Killian mutters, his hook flashing in the moonlight. “Have a good night.” “Why don’t you want me to share your bed tonight?”

“My reasons are my own. Question them at your own peril.”

And then he turns and walks away, his boots crunching on the gravel.

Emma can’t quite believe what she’s just seen, and she swallows the ever-present lump in her throat before pushing off the wall and dropping the broom against the door. Her curiosity is going to get the best of her because instead of returning to her work, she follows the sound of Killian’s footsteps and then his shadow as he returns to his ship. She’s likely not welcome, but that doesn’t stop her from watching him bark at a cabin boy before he walks through the doors to his quarters.

She hesitates, lingering on her toes, and maybe she’s being dull tonight, but she quietly sneaks aboard the Jolly, making sure none of the remaining crew spot her, before she follows in Killian’s footsteps and opens the door that will lead her to his cabin.

“Jim, I said I was not to be disturbed!”

“My name is not Jim.”

There’s a clatter and a curse, and when Emma is able to climb off the ladder, she can see Killian picking up a stack of books, still muttering to himself.

At least he isn’t cursing at her. She would deserve it for having walked onto his ship without him knowing.

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing here?”

“Curiosity,” she admits, taking in the small room filled with books and a small table, as well as a bed that looks more comfortable than hers at the tavern. He seems to have quite the collection of small goods, and her mind betrays her again by wanting to know where exactly he acquired each of them. “Frustration also. I don’t understand you, Killian Jones.”

“Not many people do. Few know me well enough to, and I don’t have most people call me by my name. Most use my more colorful moniker.”

“I like Killian better.”

He huffs and picks up a pewter cup, placing it on the table next to what looks like a map. Are these his plans for his next adventure?

“What are you frustrated about, Swan? Have I done something else to offend you? Pushed you too much? Gotten under your skin? Or are you here to pester me about my past once more?”

Emma shrugs and sits down at the edge of his bed, running her finger across the blanket. “My parents always warned me about pirates, you know?”

“I imagine most did.” “They said you were all despicable and dangerous and that I should never trust any of you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

She hums, more unconvinced now than ever before. “But there’s this weird thing about you that makes me trust you despite everything in my head telling me not to. Would I be wise to assume that you haven’t been a pirate for your entire life? You noticed that I was educated. I have noticed the same of you. The Navy perhaps? But how does someone who was educated in the Navy become a pirate?”

“How does someone who knows proper grammar and etiquette start work in a tavern? How old are you, Swan?”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-two as of next month.”

“Twenty-six for me. In October.”

Killian clicks his tongue, and she snaps her head up to look at him. He’s not smiling, but he’s pleased. She can see the mirth in his eyes and the way the corner of his mouth twitches.

“You know,” he sighs, pulling the chair out from under the table. It screeches against the floor and then groans when he sits down. “I heard a rather peculiar tale when I was in Misthaven.”

“Did you?”

“Aye. You see, Misthaven has been under a new ruling for the past few years. It seems the King and Queen were killed while sailing to visit the court in Arendelle. Since the law had not passed for a woman to be able to take the throne without a King, the deceased King’s brother took the throne. It seems the princess had been unwilling to marry her suitor and ran away. It takes a clever lass to avoid that many palace guards.”

Emma nods and picks at a thread in his blanket, pretending not to care too much for his story even as her heart explodes within her chest.

He knows.

She knows that he does, that there’s no way he wouldn’t have figured it out, and maybe she should run away, should try to find some kind shelter. There has to be a reward out for her, and Killian may want it.

But if he did, he would have taken her already? He’s been here for weeks. He would have had his opportunities.

“It’s said she had hair made of gold and eyes made of emeralds, but to me, it almost seems that her hair is the color of sunshine and her eyes are comparable to only the ocean on a summer day. Wouldn’t you agree?”

She finally looks up, her lips parted to refute his assumption, but she finds that the words die on her tongue. Instead, she decides to ask another question entirely.

“How long have you known?”

“Since the moment I heard the tale last October. It was your birthday. They have a celebration in the village square.”

“If you knew how I was educated, why did you pester me about it back in the tavern? How is it fair that you know so much about my life and yet I know none of yours?”

“’Tis not fair. Nothing about life is.” Killian stands from the chair, its legs scraping against the wood again. He shrugs off his coat, his shirt underneath clinging to his muscles before it loosens. She can see the way his shoulders heave, the way he’s taking deep breaths, and he’s still turned away from her when he starts speaking. “I have no interest in reliving my past, but I will tell you these truths for the sake of good form. I was in the Navy until I was eighteen. My brother was killed because of our corrupt king, and I turned to piracy. Sometime later I met a woman who was my first love, but her husband took issue with this. He took my hand and since she wasn’t interested in being with a broken man, she went back to her husband. Is that everything you need to know?”

“Killian – ”

“Don’t,” he sighs, turning around with his face buried in his hand. “I don’t tell any of that for sympathy. I share because I should have ages ago. I don’t enjoy being on unequal footing with a woman I fancy, so the moment I figured out your past, I should have shared mine. It’s only right.”

“Thinking you’re on unequal footing is inane. This is not a game.”

He drops his hand and smiles halfheartedly. “No, I suppose it’s not.”

Neither of them speak next, silence lingering in between the two of them, and she keeps waiting for Killian to break the silence and fill the cabin with words. He doesn’t. And the longer it goes on, the more she thinks that the air gets thicker, heavier even.

The more she wonders how she’s even breathing.

“If you enjoy being on equal footing,” Emma finally begins, standing from the bed and sauntering toward Killian until she’s standing directly under his gaze and can smell the leather from his clothes, “then I must admit that I fancy you as well.”

He blinks, and she knows that the corner of his lips tick up.

Good.

“Aye?”

“Aye,” she whispers before pushing up her toes to glide her lips over his.

Emma has felt Killian’s lips on her before, but never like this. It was always on her skin somewhere, sometimes brief, sometimes not, but she has never actually kissed him. She’s never felt how the softness of his mouth mixes with her own or how his beard would feel rough rubbing against her chin. She’s never felt the warm swipe of his tongue or the way that he knows how to push and pull, how to give and take, and how to keep the pace slow, almost reverent when she was fully intending for this to turn into something that would have a fire burning so brightly in her belly that the entire ship would burn down.

That fire is definitely there, warming her, but she thinks she might be able to contain it if this pace continues.

Then again, this isn’t what she was expecting, and the gentleness of it all might make her lose her footing more than if they were to strip out of their clothes right now.

Killian pulls back first, but he doesn’t stray far. His forehead rests against hers, and his thumb has moves from her hair to her chin, his thumb resting in the indent so that she can feel the roughness of his skin and the cool, smooth texture of the metal making up his ring.

“I imagine your parents wouldn’t be too fond of you kissing a pirate.”

“I imagine not, but at some point, I think they would come around.” She leans into him again, brushing her lips over his as she speaks. “Tell me more about Killian Jones, the man. I’d like to know him outside of the view of everyone in the tavern.” “I’m afraid you won’t find him to be as adventurous.”

“Try me.”

Killian chuckles, kissing her once more, this time quick and dirty and absolutely breath-taking, and for a moment, Emma almost tugs him back into her and pulls him down on the bed, but she’s not ready. Now she knows more about him, now she knows something past the physical frustration and the sexual desire, and she finds that she wants to talk to someone who knows about her past but isn’t trying to push her and pull her back into that life.

He’s got a past too, one as colorful and heart wrenching, and she craves knowing more of it.

If he’ll let her.

Killian nods and tells Emma to sit down. She settles on his bed, pulling her knees to her chest and watching as he pulls a series of leather-bound journals out of the ornate cabinet carved into the ship. He doesn’t say anything, simply sitting down on a wooden chair and flipping through the pages, reading a few words to himself, turning the page once again, and then he settles on a passage.

“Today, I set foot in Misthaven for the first time in over a decade. The journey here was full of calm, fall waters, and while a chill nips at my nose, I cannot deny how beautiful this kingdom is. Evergreen trees spread across the ground as far as they eye can see, but then, in the blink of an eye, there are vast stretches of white sand that link to the sea. It reminds me of when I was a boy, of the way my mother would take us to the beach before she died, and though I am here for work, I wonder of the possibility of staying here on a more permanent basis.”

Killian looks up to her, blue eyes cast in a hazy shade of gray, and she swears his cheeks may be shaded in pink.

“Though,” he continues, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “I would be remiss to say that if I do not return to the Isles, I’ll never seen Emma Swan again. She’s fiery, that lass, and while I was first attracted to the curves that make up her body, I find that she is the only one who is not afraid to challenge me. I fancy that about her, even when she is yelling at me, and it would be a lie to say that I do not enjoy riling her up. Her cheeks turn pink, her lips press into a firm line, and then she shows me her wit that is purely unmatched.”

“You write about me in your journal?”

He doesn’t look at her. Instead he run his tongue against his teeth and flips through a few pages.

“With the information I’ve gathered today, I believe Swan to be the lost princes of Misthaven. This seems ludicrous, but I cannot turn my mind off to keep from thinking of this. The timeline, the description, the portraits of her in the village, all piece together. It is not my place to be intrusive, and while many would say that means I’ve gone soft, I cannot help but assume that she has run for a reason. She suffered a great loss, and as someone who has experienced many of those, I understand the urge to run. I live this life because of it.”

Emma studied anatomy in her schoolings, knows where each organ is supposed to be located, but she would be damned right now if her heart isn’t in her stomach, beating faster than it ever has while her throat constricts. Killian has obviously skipped over several pages and paragraphs in his journal, has not told her more than he has told her, but what he has told her is enough.

They understand each other, and maybe beneath the physical attraction, that has been there all along.

“Would you like to meet me by the river tomorrow?” Emma whispers as the ship rocks below them.

“Aye, love, I think I would.”

Killian meets her by the river a half hour pass noon the next day. The sun is beaming down on them, a gentle breeze whistling between the trees, and while the two of them share more than they have in the past, it is still but a bird pecking at the shallows. That changes, however, as more days come to pass. During the day, the two of them meet by the river, exchanging slow, lingering kisses that sometimes stay that way and other times leaver her entire body flushing, and at night, he comes to the tavern. There, life is almost as normal as it always is. He sits at his preferred table with his crew, women often trying to gain his attention, and while they are always unsuccessful, there’s a feeling of being unsettled that comes with it.

He has a reputation to uphold, and really, who is she to ruin that for him?

Captain Hook is who the world knows.

Killian Jones is who she is getting to know.

And as the spring melts into summer, that is who she is falling for in a way that she never allowed herself to expect.

“Swan,” Killian whispers against the back of her neck, his breath warm as it ghosts over the expanse of her bare skin.

She shifts back into him, dragging her foot along the warm skin of his calf as he presses into her so that she can feel the rise and fall of his chest and the hard planes of a sea-worn body.

“Mhm,” Emma mumbles, tugging on his hand that is lying flat against her stomach.

“I’m afraid I have some news to share with you.”

The words do not truly settle in her mind. Instead, they stay on the outskirts, waiting and wanting to get in and settle, but her sated body and tired mind don’t allow that.

“And what’s that?”

“I received a letter a few days prior from an old acquaintance who says he has news of my old king once more trying to get his hands on the poison that killed Liam. I cannot let that happen, my love. He could kill thousands, and my men are getting restless. They need to be back on the sea before I have mutiny on my hands.”

Emma blinks and swallows while her stomach swirls, the words Killian is saying finally settling in her mind.

He’s leaving.

That is what Killian is trying to tell her, and she so wishes that she could fall back asleep and not hear any of it.

She knew this would happen, but she had allowed herself to feel comfortable, content even.

Emma had allowed herself to feel love despite knowing that it can be gone in the blink of an eye.

After her parents’ deaths and after many of her courtships in her youth, Emma always believed love to be fleeting, but in actuality, it is not. It seems that it takes no time at all to fall in the kind of love that would take a lifetime to get past, and she has allowed herself to do just that.

Stupid, stupid girl.

Emma makes an attempt to steady her breathing, to someone convince Killian that she has fallen asleep once more, but she knows that he doesn’t believe her when his lips press against her shoulder once more.

“I am a pirate, my love,” he whispers into her skin. “Tis the life I have chosen, and for now, I cannot settle down in one place. In the future, I am open to every possibility, but for now, I must go. Would I be a fool to ask you to come with me? I can show you a way of the world that you did not get as a child, and if you want, we can venture to Misthaven under the cover of the night and cloaks of disguise so you can be home once more.”

Emma opens her eyes again and takes in the soft glow of the candles still burning and the moonlight shining through the windows, a mix of a golden and silver glow, and she allows herself to imagine what leaving her safe haven would be like.

What going home would feel like even if that place is no longer hers.

“But it is your choice,” he continues, each word vibrating against her skin. “Everything is up to you, and if you choose to stay, know that I will count down every minute until I can get back to you.”

Nodding, Emma squeezes Killian’s hand once more. “How much time do I have to make my decision?”

“I will not leave until you have.”

She does not know what to say or how to put her thoughts into words, and while they are pressed together so that she can feel every inch of him, that is not nearly enough. So she glides their hands downward and shifts her leg back, hooking it over Killian’s calf, and he easily takes the hint, slowly touching her in a way that has her heart racing as his lips trail along her back and her shoulder, breathing her in as she does the same to him. The ship rocks gently below them in a soothing motion that Emma has grown to love, and the slowness of the ocean sets the slowness of their pace.

A gradual building that goes higher and higher and higher with each deft movement of Killian’s hand.

But then his hand is replaced, and he slides into her in a long, slow motion, heat radiating across her skin as he fills her. It’s familiar by now, and while she will admit that it is not always thrilling, there are times like this where she cannot imagine any other feeling beside being joined with him in the early morning hours.

The pace stays the same, sometimes slowing when Emma twists her neck to capture Killian’s mouth with hers, and she lingers in living on the edge of falling over, wanting to be there but being content to wait. She’s never liked waiting for much, especially good things, but with Killian, she’s found that waiting is always with it.

Waiting for him to flirt with her, waiting for him to be honest about who he is, waiting for him to come to the tavern, waiting for him to share his past, waiting for him to turn up in the markets with her favorite dessert when she thought he was working, waiting for him to fall in love…

And the thing that always gets her is that yes, she has bided her time and waited for him in certain aspects, but she has not sat idle. She has done her job, has spent time with those closest to her, has done things that she’s wanted to do. So much of her life was controlled, and she’s not yet done with experiencing the freedom of being the only person who has any right to tell her what to do. She may have been raised to wait for a man because he makes the final decisions, but that is not the life she is living now.

Heaven knows, she has made Killian wait for her as well.

Likely far more than she has ever waited for him.

And he is not making any decisions for her. That is all up to her.

Now, though, as Killian’s hand inches to where they’re joined, his fingers working what can only be considered magic, she knows that she is no longer waiting to fall over the edge into the bliss that leaves her warm and sated almost every time.

They do not move afterward. They do not speak either. Instead, they stay pressed together under the blankets in Killian’s cabin, and when they are ready again, they once again join together. This time is not slow. It’s hard and fast, and Emma can scarcely breathe as she holds on in desperation knowing that this could be the last time for a long time.

If not forever.

She wakes not remembering having fallen asleep, and she immediately knows she’s not sharing the bed with anyone else. The mattress is not nearly warm enough for Killian to still be here. When she blinks open her eyes, she sees him standing next to his dresser. He’s not yet clothed, but she watches as a finishes attaching his brace for his hook and then slips on one of his shirts, this one long and billowy and the darkest shade of black she’s ever seen. He doesn’t button the top, leaving his chest on display, and she finds that she can’t look away from him as he tugs up his trousers and tucks in the blouse before putting on his necklaces and rings on. Emma has grown so used to seeing a variation of his clothing nearly every day, of watching him methodically get dressed and then sit down over his logs, the official ones, not the ones where he writes about her, that she cannot quite imagine the day where she is not here to witness these every day moments that are the most ordinary she has ever had.

After a life filled with extravagant and extraordinary, Emma imagines that the thrill that runs down her spine at the thought of having her own normal is greater than any thrill she’s ever possessed before.

“Ah, good morning, my love,” Killian sighs when he sees her. He tugs one last lace on his leathers before sauntering toward her and leaning down to kiss her. He tastes of mint already, and she finds herself smiling about it. “Should I call to the kitchen to get you breakfast, or will you be joining the crew there?”

“Where are you off to?”

“First, to eat,” he smiles, scratching behind his ear before brushing his hair off his forehead. “Then I have preparations to arrange before we depart. Tonight, though, I am all yours, however you want me.” “Captain, that is quite the dangerous position you’re giving me,” Emma laughs before letting the blankets fall around her as she stands and walks to the wardrobe to grab one of Killian’s shirts. “However I want you?”

“Anything for you, milady.”

Emma shakes her head and then turns back around to him, pressing up on her toes in order to wrap her arms around his neck and brush her lips over his mouth as she speaks. “I want to go with you.”

“Swan – ”

“Don’t protest,” she whispers as his hand and his hook settle at her hips. “You asked me, and I’m agreeing. I don’t know if I’ll want to go to Misthaven, but I do know that I am ready for a new adventure with you, whatever that may be.”

-/-

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@mrtinski @klynn-stormz @jonirobinson64 @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @sherifemma @shardminds @captainsjedi @galaxyzxstark @galadriel26 @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @itsfabianadocarmo @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @scarletslippers @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind

#playing the waiting game #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #captain swan

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easnuppa · 4 years

Text

The Cave

A little one shot I was requested to write, I hope you all like it.

A hugh thanks to @of-storms-and-sadness for beta reading, you are awsome girl!

You stumbled as you got up to your feet. It was dark, pitch black in fact. You couldn’t see your hand in front of you, even with how hard you tried to. You reached out and tried to feel your way around. Sharp rocks met your sensitive fingertips. You felt dizzy and you knew that you probably had a concussion. You sat down on the sandy ground and pushed your hair out of your face and tried to think back and figure out what happened.

You remembered Carol’s frantic chase through the woods. She had seen Alpha and was dead set that now was the day that the evil woman was going to die. The only reason you had joined this mission was to show your support and maybe make it clear to the man your heart was beating wildly for, that you were worth his time. Carol was important to Daryl, and Daryl was the only reason you were still breathing. You had felt this way from the first moment you laid eyes on him. Not only had you been knocked off your feet by his strikingly good looks, but you had soon discovered that his heart was as pure and good as it could be. The only problem was that he didn’t seem to notice you. At least not in the way you would like him too. You knew he cared about you, but that was how Daryl was, he cared about his family, and you were a part of that family. You had been with the group from before the prison fell. You had lost track of how many years it had been.

You had tried different things to show Daryl how much you really cared for him. Every time you went out on a run you had been on the lookout for weapons or bolts for him to use. As soon as you all arrived at Alexandria and Daryl had started working on his bike in Aaron’s garage you were constantly searching for bike parts that he might use. Daryl never saw your attempts to get closer to him the way they were meant. He looked at you the same way he looked at Carol, Rick, Maggie, or any of your other family members.

You inhaled shakily; the air was filled with dust but not as much as you would recon it would be from the explosion. The explosion inside the cave that you all had crept through, the explosion Carol had caused. Everything had happened so fast, you were all trying to get out, walkers and whisperers had been on your tail. You had all been fighting for your lives. Then, almost like it was god sent, you had spotted the small hole in the rocky roof above your head. You could feel the draft of fresh air against your skin and you had guided the group to where the entrance to freedom was.

At some point the cave had started to give in from where you all had made the exit hole bigger, your companions had tried to help everyone out while trying to hold the roof of the cave steady, but Carol had disappeared and you knew Daryl would never leave the cave without his best friend. Daryl had wanted to run after her, but you had stopped him, and told him that you would go, you would find her and bring her to safety. Daryl knew you were a strong and capable fighter and that you could handle your own, you had proved that time and time again throughout the years.

You had searched through the cave the way you had come. Your hand gripping the torch Daryl gave you before you walked back into the maze of rocks. You must have taken the wrong way at some point because suddenly you could not hear anything, it was like all sound and air was sucked out. It was then the explosion happened. You felt the ground shake underneath you; the rumble was echoing through the halls. You knew you were in trouble, you had turned and blindly sprinted back to the entrance, but you were knocked off your feet and as you fell you felt a sharp pain at your temple and then everything had gone black.

Now you were sitting there in the dark with a splitting headache, confused and disoriented. How the hell were you going to get out?

Your hands searched over your body, at least nothing was broken. Your body felt sore as all hell, and you figured you had a gash that was seeping blood from the sticky substance that met your fingertips, but you were alive. A fact that would not be true for long if you did not get out. You got down to all four and started crawling. You cursed as your hands and knees bumped against sharp rocks and pebbles. If you got out, you were going to have a serious talk with Carol. Enough was enough. You could only imagine the pain she felt after losing her adoptive son to Alpha, but for months she had acted reckless, and put the rest of your group members in danger. She had put Daryl in danger and that was not something you could accept any longer.

Daryl rolled around and jumped to his feet. He started climbing the pile of rocks that now was covering the group’s escape route.

«Help me get these rocks out of the way, we need to go back and find ‘er, » his voice broke as he desperately started to throw the heavy rocks to the side. He felt Aaron’s hand on his shoulder, and he peered over his shoulder at his friend with wide frantic eyes.

«There’s no way she would have survived that explosion, the roof of the cave gave in from it, » Aaron gently said with sorrow filled eyes, but Daryl would not accept that for a fact. You had been a part of his life, his family, for so many years. He could not imagine you not being around. He couldn’t imagine not seeing your beautiful smile, feel your gentle touch or hear your soft voice as you spoke. He needed you, he cared about you. For years he had known that he probably cared about you more than he should, more than you would welcome. You had stolen his heart, but he had been a coward and not found the guts to tell you. He regretted his decision to stay quiet now, who cares if you didn’t return his feelings, it didn’t matter, what mattered was that at least you would know that you meant the world to him.

«Daryl, we all know how much you care about her, but you need to let it go. This place will soon crawl with walkers. The sound will attract them from miles away. We need to go back home, » Aaron continued, and Daryl knew he was right. Digging through this pile of rocks was useless, he needed to find another entrance. He climbed down and grabbed his bow. He felt someone grip his arm and he violently turned towards Carol who was standing in front of him. Her eyes were pooling over and her lip quivering.

«Daryl please, I didn’t mean for her to get harmed. »

Daryl shook his arm free from Carol’s grip and took a step back, scowling at the woman he had considered to be his best friend almost since it all started. The woman who he had thought had his back through everything. He now realized that Carol was too far gone at this point. Her thirst for vengeance had drawn a gap between the two of them. A gap that probably would never be possible to fill.

«Don’t touch me, » he snarled out, «ya knew how much she means to me. She went back for ya! (y/n) would never let anythin’ happen to ya! That’s how she is! ‘er blood is on yer hands. This ridiculous need ya got to bring down Alpha gotta stop! It is putting everyone in our family in danger! »

Daryl turned to Aaron. «Bring everyone back to Alexandria! »

Aaron nodded, but his eyes were filled with unspoken questions. Daryl knew exactly what his friend was silently asking.

«I’m gonna look for another entrance. Even if she were killed in the explosion, I need to find ‘er and bring ‘er home. I ain’t gonna leave ‘er to turn under a pile of rocks. She would do the same for me, for all of ya’ll. » The lump in his throat that threatened to choke him made his voice break once more and he felt his eyes well up. He turned away from everyone and wiped the back of his hand over his eyes. Just thinking that you were no longer breathing was too painful.

He forced his legs to move. One foot in front of the other. It was almost an impossible task, but he needed to find you and bring you home. He needed to bury your body within Alexandria’s safe walls. You needed to be put to rest at the place where he had watched you blossom and thrive. Where your laughter had filled the streets, where you had seemed so carefree and happy…

You felt the hunger claw at your stomach, the thirst was unbearable. How long had you been trapped in this darkness? It felt like an eternity and you still had not found your way out. You knew that your time was slowly running out. The dust you continued to inhale was making your throat and mouth feel like sandpaper. You had at some point started talking to yourself, trying to encourage yourself not to give up, that you were going to make it. In a short time you would find yourself lying in your bed back home, safe, clean, and well fed. The dust and the lack of water had made your voice hoarse until it stopped working completely. You were so tired. Your body was aching and heavy. Your eyelids felt like bricks that threatened to trap you into darkness forever. At one point you had given in and your body had collapsed onto the floor where you had surrendered to the peaceful sleep that you thought would last forever.

Two and a half days had gone by since the cave had collapsed but Daryl had not stopped searching for you, he could not give up. He had been back at Alexandria to stock up with water, food and flashlights and continued the search. As he moved through the humid caves it felt like your voice was calling on him. It was almost like his heart led him through the narrow halls.

The light from his flashlight lit up the dusty ground, his strides had been hurried until he stopped dead in his tracks. There in front of him, lit up by the yellow light from his flashlight his eyes landed on your blue top. It had been your favorite, he knew because, even how worn and torn it was, you still seemed to wear it all the time. He hurried over to your limp body, whispering your name over and over like it would bring you back if he repeated it enough times. He turned you over to your back. Your body was limp, and your skin was covered with dirt and sot, still you were as beautiful as ever. His hands shakily cupped your face. Your skin felt cold to the touch. His fingers traced your skin down to your throat, frantically searching for a pulse. Could he feel a weak throbbing or was it just wishful thinking? He grabbed his backpack and tore it open, fishing out a water bottle. He uncapped it and lifted your head and parted your lips

«c’mon girl, don’t ya give up on me now. I’ve got ya! » he rasped out as he slowly started tilting the bottle. He could feel his hand getting soaked from the water spilling over your lips, trailing down your cheek and onto his hand. He needed to get you out. You had been so brave; you had almost made it out. Daryl had stumbled over an entrance only a couple of hours ago and his gut feeling had told him that this was it. He shouldered his backpack again and lifted you up. He needed to get you out, out into the sunlight where he could see if you were still breathing or if it was just his imagination. He jogged through the narrow halls. It felt like he was holding his breath until he reached the entrance and he took a step out into the fresh air. He sunk to his knees with you still in his arms. He pushed your hair out of your face and stared at you.

«C’mon (y/n), I can’t lose ya. I need to tell ya somethin’ I should’ve told ya a long time ago, » he forced his voice to work. It broke into sobs several times, but he needed to let you know. You could not leave this world without knowing.

«I love ya (y/n), I have for years, and I’ve been an idiot for not tellin’ ya. You’re beautiful sparklin’ eyes and yer pretty smile have been my only reason to get up in the mornin’. How can I go on without seein’ ya every day? Ya need to stay with me! » He felt the tears making his cheeks wet. He leaned over your limp body and he pressed his forehead against your chest. Inhaling your familiar scent. «Don’t leave me (y/n), I can’t go on without ya, » he continued to sob.

It was so weird. You heard a faint calling in the distance and you felt your face heat up from a bright light. Something or someone was tugging on you. How could you feel all these things if you were dead? How could you form a thought if you were a walker?

Your senses sharpened as you started to regain consciousness and then you heard it again. The same raspy thick southern drawl that you loved so much. Your eyes fluttered open and you stared right into the light blue sky. How could that be? When you had closed your eyes, you had been surrounded by darkness. It had swallowed you and you had given up on the thought of ever seeing daylight again. You tried to will your limbs to move. Suddenly a face you loved so much blocked out the clear blue sky and you stared into a pair of blue pools that always made your heart skip a beat.

«(y/n)? » you heard that raspy voice say. You tried to form a word, a sound, anything, but your mouth opened and closed like a fish on land. Your lips chapped and dry. Something cold was pressed against your sore lips and soon your mouth was filled with cold water. You swallowed and gulped, and you felt the water tickle your skin as it trickled down your neck, where you coughed what you could not swallow.

«Daryl?» you asked and his blue eyes locked with yours.

«I’m ‘ere girl, don’t speak, I’ll get ya home. »

You felt how he was about to move away so you grabbed him. Even if your grip was weak it stilled his movements. «I thought I was never going to see you again, » you whispered. Daryl tried to shush you again, but you needed to get something off your chest. Something you should have shared with him a long time ago.

«I love you, Daryl, » you continued to whisper. If you were going to die, then at least he would know how you felt, how you had always felt about him. You felt his movements still for a moment. Your eyes were searching his for any type of reaction. His blue orbs softened, and you felt him lean over you and press his lips against yours. The kiss was gentle and so soft that for a second you thought you had just imagined it happening. The next words that were mumbled against your lips though, they took your breath away. Those were words you had never thought you would ever hear from those same lips that had been pressed against yours just seconds ago. Those words were the reason you had been fighting through the dark tunnels. The hope that had led you to this very moment.

«I love ya too (y/n), always have. »

Now you knew that everything was going to be alright. You could fight to survive; you could make it through. You had his heart and it would give you the strength to take on anything.

#Daryl Dixon #Daryl Dixon/ Reader #Daryl Dixon oneshot #daryl dixion imagine #angst #hurt/comfort #twd fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #romance

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deliciousscaloppine · 4 years

Text

A TRUE RAREPAIR APPROACHES

For Jiang Yanli / Luo Qingyang (Mianmian!) Are you more the type to cut off your braid and wear an armour to save your princess or the type to give up your royal privileges to run away with your beloved maid?

This is really too long for a prompt, and too short for the story I wanted to write so excuse my bad planning (the story elements are good though)

The carriage rocked and rattled, making her sleepy.

“Is Lanling a big city?” her brother asked from outside. He was riding on a horse, out in the open air with no care in the world. No worries about his complexion darkening under the harsh sun. No petulant groom for him to satisfy with the pale color of his skin.

“Big? What kind of silly question is that! Why don't you ask if the sun shines.” her other brother barked from the other side of the carriage. “Of course, it's big, I showed it to you on the map!” He was also riding on a horse, out in the open air, his only care if he would make a good impression.

“Why are you mad! Don't you know there are no silly questions! All I want to know is how comfortable our sister will be. Lotus Pier is so distant and so small, it's okay for a peasant's life, but our sister is a fairy from the moon. She deserves the best wedding!”

“You needn't worry, young master!” the driver of the carriage said. “Lady Jiang will have no shortage of comforts. Carp Tower is like a town unto itself. It's no mere mansion. Its residences are outnumbered by its many workshops and shrines. Anything she wants will be delivered to her. All her life she might not have need to step outside of her husband's bedroom.”

An awkward silence followed. Her little brother knocked on the carriage window.

“Big sister, did you hear that?” he said concerned. “Listen, if you want to bolt, just say so. I'll take you on my horse and we'll disappear into the night.”

She had smiled “A-Xian.”

Her family where once rangers. They traveled throughout the land in ceaseless motion. They slept outside under the starry sky, they hunted for food, they knew how to make fire. They didn't mind wearing rags as they fought for justice. Perhaps that's why her father liked little A-Xian so much. He still had that hint of wilderness inside him.

But somewhere along the line, the Jiang had married well, they had acquired a big home and followers, and the ranger had become gentry. Not fully extinguished perhaps, but definitely more preoccupied with courtly manners, and dress, and important political alliances.

The carriage stopped and a loud voice was heard proclaiming some herald of the Jin Clan.

“What do you mean this carriage is too small! It's perfectly sized.” she heard her brother argue outside. “That thing is so big, it might as well be a house. How we'll talk to our big sister in this?”

She poked her head through the window. A well-dressed, if somewhat self important herald approached her.

“Lady Jiang, your future husband, the groom, the pearl of Carp Tower, our lord Jin Zixuan is sending this carriage for you so that you can enter the city with the honor befitting the status of the future lady of Carp Tower.”

Jiang Yanli was already dizzy from the rocking of the carriage. She had hoped to walk a few paces and breathe some fresh air before arriving in Lanling.

“I will take it, if my brothers are permitted to ride at the front.” she said getting off.

Her brothers looked at her uncertain. How could she tell them, she was supremely tired of their bickering. Of course, it was the nerves of the separation, but she had even more of those, and she had to maintain not only a perfect composure, but also a flawless complexion.

The road full of pebbles and rocks, crunched under her shoes and she wondered if that was that last bit of her freedom waving goodbye. A large retinue of maids and servants and all sorts of Jin disciples stood to greet her

“I am Luo Qingyang” a young, athletic lady with a sword and a fairly sunkissed complexion bowed. “I will be keeping you safe on this journey.” she said and showed her the way into the large, ornate carriage.

“You can call me Mianmian. Everybody does.” Luo Qingyang said once they were inside.

“Mianmian!” Yanli laughed behind her hand.

“Isn't it funny! But only girls can call me like that!” she said brightly and reached for a little embroidered pouch from her pocket. She handed it to Yanli. “Here! If you get dizzy smell this. It's some aromatic herbs, they help with headaches and the such.”

Yanli pressed it to her face smiling. “You make these yourself?”

“I am a talented swordswoman, but there is not much to do around in Carp Tower, I mostly escort ladies of the house and lord Jin Zixuan. I learned how to make these aromatic pouches from the other ladies there. They help me remember home.”

Mianmian took out another pouch. “This one has dried herbs my mother plants in her garden. When I get a little homesick, I press it to my face like this. I'll show you how to make them, they are pretty easy! This way you can take the smell of lotus flowers with you wherever you go.”

Yanli looked at the colorful pouch in her hands. “Thank you.” she said and felt tears coming to her eyes.

Mianmian pulled out a kerchief. “Oh, don't cry over a silly pouch! You'll see, you'll miss nothing when we get to Carp Tower. Whenever you get a little homesick, we'll just hop on this carriage and trot at the pace of a snail all the way to Lotus Pier!”

Yanli laughed. She laughed many times, until night descended around them and the horses had to rest.

“What is lord Jin Zixuan like?” Yanli asked lying down on the soft pillows, pressing Mianmian's aromatic pouch in her hand. It was hot in the carriage, but too cold for her to go outside.

Mianmian sighed. “Well, he is kind of aloof, you know. But he just doesn't know how to express himself. I mean, he comes across as conceited. Well, not conceited...self-important? No, that's not the word! Uhm, too full of himself?”

Jiang Yanli paled.

“But he is alright, I guess. I don't think you will be seeing him often, anyway. A sect leader is always terribly busy. Lord Guangshan almost never sees Lady Jin. Even though that whole thing is a different issue.”

“How so?”

“Well, they were forced into this marriage when they were very young, and they never really hit it off. I guess each felt trapped in a relationship they didn't want to be in, and both acted out in ways that caused a permanent rift between them.” Mianmian said. “Though lord Guangshan certainly did the most to ruin the relationship...with all of those uhm...extramarital affairs.”

Yanli sat up on her elbows. “I need a breath of fresh air” she said.

The night was dry and cold all around them, Yanli had needed a coat. The pebbles crunched under their feet. But the sky was clear and all one could see were stars, as many of them as the pebbles of the road underneath their feet. She smiled again to herself. Better not. Her family had good reason to settle.

“I will like Carp Tower.” she said in a loud voice.

“Eh, it's alright.” Mianmian followed. “It sure is impressive at first, but then everyone has so many opinions, so many little things you can slight someone over. So no one ever does or says anything that's slightly out of the ordinary. We all politely eat lunch and smile at each other.”

“How come you never left then!” Yanli heard herself exclaim. “If it's so horrible and boring what are you doing there.”

Mianmian lifted her shoulders. “It's comfortable, I guess.” she said, and Yanli felt her stomach twist in a knot. It was so cold she felt dizzy. The thought of galloping through the night, not with A-Xian, someone else, then seemed utterly ridiculous to her.

She was no ranger! She wasn't even a swordswoman. She was just a pliant, handsome girl who knew how to light the stove and cook, and make everyone feel better. That'swho she had wanted to be! That's who she thought she were. No catching fish or pheasants, and playing all day like little A-Xian. No practicing the sword and running amok like A-Cheng.

“Can you hunt, Mianmian? I don't mean monsters, or other ghouls. I mean can you catch pheasants or fish by the riverside?”

Mianmian looked at her bewildered. “I never had to. Every meal at Carp Tower is a feast.” Mianmian however could tell that was not the answer Jiang Yanli was looking for. “...I could try.” she offered.

“How about a horse? Can you ride one?”

“I always prefered my own two feet.” Mianmian said. “I can ride the sword though. That has to count for something.”

The sword, Janli thought. The sword.

Two days later the carriage arrived at Lanling, and an auspicious wedding was held after some time. Everyone drank to the new bride's health. She put on the fineries of Carp Tower, and smiled. And after a while there came a momeent when she had to say goodbye to her own two brothers, her mother and father and be now a true lady of the Lanling Jin.

“We'll come to see you often!” her brothers waved at her and left.

The groom? The groom was fine. Mianmian said he was polite and considerate, but Yanli thought he was entirely cold. On their first night together he had said, “Why don't you acclimate yourself to life in Carp Tower first,” and then left.

Her first thought was that she had done something wrong. That by some oversight, she had made herself undesirable. She looked at herself in her mirror and craved to be kissed, and held, and be talked to softly. To be squeezed in someone's arms.

“Don't take it to heart!” Mianmian had laughed the next day. “I am sure he is just as nervous as you!”

“I am not at all nervous.” she had said wistfully and wondered if it was wrong. If not being nervous was that disastrous oversight.

“I would be.” Mianmian mused. “I mean you do not really know your husband at all. That is a strange situation. He never had to find what you like and seek your favor.”

“It's too late now for all that.”

“I have an idea!” Mianmian said. “Why don't you tell me what you like! Then I can go and tell him! I'll be like your secret messenger.”

Yanli laughed. “That's childish!” she said. “He wouldn't like that!”

“Why not? Come on let's try! What is something you really like doing?”

Yanli mused. “I guess, I would really like it if he tried some of my soup.” Yanli immediately felt more heartened after expressing herself. “That's right! I want to make him some lotus and rib soup!”

She took Mianmian and together they went to the kitchen. The many maids that took care of the cooking were very surprised to see a lady of the house in all her exorbitant jewlery and fine silk satins among them, opening cupboards and asking where this and that ingredient were.

For the first time in several days, she felt like her old self. Like she was back at Lotus Pier, waiting for night to fall and share food and stories with her two brothers. Mianmian chattered incessantly, and from time asked to help, chopping the ribs, and grating the ginger, asking why they skim the foam from the top.

“It smells so good!” she finally said, as Yanli carefully served the soup in a bowl.

“Take it to him, before it's cold!”

Mianmian did as she was told, but when she returned, she had no eloquent messages of thanks.

“He's probably too busy to eat soup, right now.” she said.

“Or perhaps he finds it too provincial.” Yanli thought.

“Come on, let's eat the two of us!” Mianmian said and taking the ladle, she served them.

Yanli tasted the soup. It was not exactly how she used to make it. But she didn't what it was that was missing. Carp Tower had everything, it lacked neither ginger, not scallions. Was it the meat? The lotus root? Was it the air of this mansion, heavy with incense and slightly oppressive from the sweat of the fawning courtiers. Did it alter the taste of the soup?

“It's really good!” Mianmian said sipping some of the broth.

“It's not as good as I make it on Lotus Pier. Maybe that's why he didn't like it.” Yanli said pushing the bits of meat and lotus around in her bowl.

“What are you talking about! This is a hearty dish, I've never really tasted anything like it before, but even if I had, I would be glad if someone had just cooked it for me. It might not taste exactly as it does on Lotus Pier, but how could it, you are yourself a different person.”

Yanli's face droop. That's right, she thought, I am sadder. When her two brothers would come back, their faces lit up at the prospect of the soup, her heart was full. They were waiting to be with her, just as much as she did all day...Here no one paid mind to such things. Here no one was waiting.

“What's with the face!” Mianmian asked around a mouthful of lotus root. “Are you feeling homesick?”

“I do.” Yanli said.

“Then eat up! You'll feel better. That's what I always do! When I miss home, I eat watercress soup.”

But Mianmian didn't just say this. Taking a spoonful of soup she guided it to Yanli's lips. Yanli laughed and ate. And soon, she found out there was absolutely nothing with her soup. It tasted great. She ate and ate, until she finally felt full.

I should have played more with my brothers, she thought, when she had finished eating. I should have taught them how to make this soup, and they should have taken me hunting. This way my life would be more complete.

“I never really followed my brothers in their adventures.” she said to Mianmian. “Now I wish I had at least once.”

The following week, a great hunt was held in Phoenix Mountain. All week people run here and there to build a beautiful pavilion for the hunters to rest, and arrange the many refreshments that would be served. Yanli had to dress especially nice, and greet with Madam Jin the many guests. After a while all she had to do was sit at her own table and smile demurely at every remark, at every conversation, even if it was not directed at her.

Until Mianmian came and sat by her side. “I know what will cheer you.” she said. “Let's go hunting together. Let's go catch fish and pheasants!”

“We can do that?” Yanli asked.

“We'll just say you needed to stretch your legs and breathe the fresh air!” Mianmian said, and taking her by the hand, she stole away with her into the forest. Yanli became breathless and dizzy pretty soon, but there Mianmian was, kicking stones out of the path, and giving her her hand, when they had to climb up a steep path.

Mianmian was small, but she was agile and strong like a little mountain goat. They climbed and climbed until miraculously they came across a pheasant.

“I bet I can hit it with my sword from here!” Mianmian said.

“You can't use your sword for a poor bird. You have to give it a fighting chance.”

“Alright.” Mianmian said rolling her sleeves and lunging right on it. The pheasant put up a valiant fight, thrashing around agrily until it won. Screeching offended, it bolted for the bushes.

“I guess I am not that good at catching pheasants.” Mianmian said putting her hands on her waist. From the top of her head to her toes she was covered in dirt and dust, a few plumes sticking out of her hair.

Yanli laughed. “We'll have better luck catching fish!” she said, following the sound of nearby water.

“Only if you let me use my sword.” Mianmian grumbled.

Even if it was the height of summer the rivulet they found was cold, nevertheless Mianmian waded through it valiantly. “Wait here!” she called climbing on a rock.

“I see a lot of fish.” she said, shielding her eyes from the reflections of the water. “I wonder if I can try something.”

Mianmian closed her eyes and unseathed her sword.

“Lady Luo! Don't be excessive!” Yanli called.

But Mianmian didn't stab any fish, until not at first. She waved her sword in a great arc, her body following it like a wave. Rising its tip well above her head, her knee folding. Following the crescent of this move with her elbows bent, one arm extended, directing power with her index and middle fingers. Breathing as the sword rests for a moment before a decisive swing.

It looked oddly like a dance, Yanli thought. She had seen her two brothers often practice, but their form had nothing as graceful as that. They always looked as if they struggled against something; the air around them, their own shape, their own power perhaps.

The sword glimmered and shined, changing angles around Luo Qingyang's body, moving as if something invisible balanced on its very tip.

Then she brought it powerfully down, smacking the surface of water. The survace of the rivulet bounced, expelling all the fish in the air above them. Yanli shrieked, delighted, as a shower of trouts descended all around them.

Mianmian flew through the air, stabbing two fish, before landing triumphantly. “Let's eat them now!” she exclaimed.

Yanli gathered some twigs. She knew at least how to light a fire. She made a small firepit at the edge of the shore, and lined it with smooth rocks from the river. This was exciting, it was a proper outing in the wild – even if the hunters' pavilion was an hour away.

Yanli smiled to herself as she prepared the kindling. But for some reason when she tried to make fire, her hands faltered. She tried something she knew how to do, but the comfortable life in Carp Tower had made her forget.

Mianmian kneeled by her side, taking the flint from her hands. “Here, let me!” she said brightly, as she stood next to her, their shoulders touching, the sparks flying.

“My mom is a great cook! She taught me how to light a stove at least.” she said smiling.

“I knew how to do this once.” Yanli said loudly.

“You still do! You are probably tired from our little excursion.”

“...Do you think I could live outside, Mianmian?” she asked. “Like a ranger, with no home, just roaming the country on a horse and little else.”

“I am sure you could do anything you put your mind to.” Mianmian said quietly.

Even though Yanli had managed to do this one thing, her heart was now heavy. This was a summer dream, she thought as the fish was roasting. She should just enjoy it and then let it fade away.

The two of them ate their country meal, and as dusk began to approach, they made their way down the path laughing and joking, sometimes holding hands, when the climb down was too steep. When they finally arrived at the hunters' pavilion, before the sun began to set, a great commotion was waiting for them.

The disappearance of the young lady had caused quite the stir. Yanli had wanted to say, “I was just catching fish.” She knew what an immature thing it was to say. So she smiled and apologized profusely, while her husband sat at a corner and sulked, and Mianmian made her own excuses.

When the day was concluded and all the party returned to Carp Tower, Yanli felt she had to apologize to him especially. She tried to explain to him at first what that hunt meant for her. How her brothers would go on long trips, and fool around, knowing that when they came back, they would come back to a home.

“Lady Jiang!” Jin Zixuan said, as if they were not married. “How do you think it makes me feel, when I go looking for you and can't find you!”

Left alone once more during the night, she began to cry. Was it a delusion to think she could bring home with her? Mianmian appeared at the frame of the door.

“Don't cry! It was all my fault!” she cried and in less than a moment, she had embraced her.

“I am not crying about today.” Yanli said. “I am crying for tomorrow and all the tomorrows that will follow after that. I don't think I will ever have Jin Zixuan's love, but even if I did, I am no so sure I would want it.”

Mianmian dried her eyes with her sleeve.

“He might have sounded cold, but I believe in his heart of hearts he has a true fondness for you. When he sees you, he must surely feel like you are the most thoughtful and exceptional person in the world. I know that with time all he'll want is to fall deeply in love with you.”

“He never said that. Stop speaking his mind for him.”

“I am sorry.” Mianmian said confused, her eyes suddenly filling with regret.

Yanli clasped her, tightened her hands around those strong arms that could wield a sword. “When you talk to me like that don't do it for him! Defend me for yourself, love me for yourself.” she said, and as if shocked by her own words, she clasped her mouth next and fled.

She ran through the garden, and hid, like a scared child who has done something worthy of reproach. She stayed for a long time hidden, watching the carp dance in the water, wondering what was happening to her. What were those new things she wanted and why, and sometimes she thought of nothing at all, except for Luo Qingyang's face.

“Don't make this more difficult than it is.” she heard a voice suddenly say. She peeked from behind the bushes and saw Mianmian with two other disciples.

“Madam Jin wants you to leave. Here's some money, take it and go.” they said.

Mianmian looked at their hands, and then with very little hesitation, she took off the lavish garment of the Jin Clan and tossed it at them before storming away.

There were no more reproaches, only consequences.

That night, she smiled and greeted everyone at the banquet. She had graceful words for everyone, but it was not her saying these words. It was a ghost that repeated the things that had been fixed on it since childhood. Yanli felt it retreat from her more firmly with each act of decorum. Goodbye, she said to it with her mind.

At precisely midnight, a great wind swept the tower, rattling every door and window. Yanli wore her hardiest coat and exited her room. It might have been a fierce night, but the air was fragrant with the smell of the peony flowers. So she run through the empty garden laughing.

She run with with her skirts clutched in her hands, as a torrent of flowers drifted in the wind above her.

“Turn away! Go back!” angry voices sounded in the night. For a moment, she froze, thinking they were coming from her mind. A sword hummed sonorously above the raging wind.

“None of you can stop me!” a familiar voice was heard, and then the sound of a blade thrashing, humming with the stress of every hit, producing a clear sound like a wailing song. Yanli run faster.

Mianmian was in the courtyard dancing with her sword. Twisting around attacks, bouncing her blade on weapons, until they broke. Her form nothing but perfect, as if there was nothing between her and the world, no other blades, no lances, no screams. As if she was just practicing steps in the dark, in deep meditation.

“Fall back! Fall back!” the voices cried. Yanli run to the very bottom of the steps, as bewildered men fled around her.

Mianmian smiled and gave her her hand. The sword hummed and stepping on air, it pulled them through the fragrant, night air, upwards towards the stars.

There were never seen again in the world, but I am sure they are quite happy.

#the untamed #the untamed fic #jiang yanli #mianmian #luo qingyang #yanyang?#the untamed f/f #the untamed prompts

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