#i should go back to cross stitch it felt more respectable

[unpretty]

as a kid i thought i would graduate from kid problems like cleaning my room to adult problems like jobs and taxes. but instead i have a job and taxes and still have to clean my room. cleaning my room is a lifetime problem. i will never stop having to put my markers away before bedtime. this is a rude way for aging to work.

#original #i meant to do my taxes tonight #instead i played video games and then colored in my coloring book #i looked at the time and realized i needed to put my markers away and then felt some ways #i should go back to cross stitch it felt more respectable

[mxtantrights]

The magic-spy and the bird

the best friends brother trope is in my top 5 tropes. but I've also got a thing for angst. So here we areeeee. enjoy! <3

dick Grayson x f!reader

Jason Todd had asked you specifically to ask his brother out. And he did use the word brother, which you made a point to bring up. He shot it down but still decided to push his message towards you. You should ask Dick out. It wasn’t that simple.

“Jay I don’t think you’ve thought this through.” you said.

He chuckled, “Of course I did. I wouldn’t say it out loud if it wasn’t a well-cooked plan.” 

You made a face at him.

“Okay look, all I'm saying is you’ve got nothing to lose. If anything you're way out of his league.” he said and then gulped down the rest of his beer.

You didn’t like beer and so you worked on a Pina colada. You had done the whole beer thing for years now. As a trained spy it was your go-to for missions at bars. Safe to say you were sick of ales, craft beers and everything in between.

“Ah yes, the magic using spy.” you nodded your head.

Jason nodded along with you. 

“Exactly. Bird brains would eat that up.” he said.

“And when would I tell him that I knew about his secret identity? Before I tell him about mine or after?” you asked. 

Jason sighed and raised his hand for another beer. You rolled your eyes at this. Once he had a thought it was very hard for him to let it go. Especially when it included a thought about people he cared for- no matter how much he claimed the opposite. 

“All Im saying is, you never know until you try.” 

“What are you a fortune cookie?” 

“Fuck off. I’m being serious and I do give great advice you can ask Duke.” 

2 DAYS LATER 

You look at Caliban with bated breath. He had just gotten info on a magic-based rebellion. Work was tight when you rolled with the good guys for too long of a time. You blame that on two men on your life, Jason and Constantine. 

“I’ll put in a good word for you.” he says.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it. And any-”

Before you can finish telling Caliban that he can call in a favor from you at anytime your surroundings change. In a flash you go from one of the underworld crime bars to a room you’ve never been in before.

You look around and sure enough you see the culprit. Constantine.

“There she is!” he smiles.

Not only did he summon you, he did so in front of an audience. Circled around him is Gotham’s crime fighting family. All of them except Jason, Cass and Duke. All of which know about your secret identity and would’ve stopped Constantine from summoning you. The rest of the family are all looking at you liked you’ve grown a second head.

You look down at what you’re wearing. The long sleeve off the shoulder skin tight black dress was the perfect choice for the club you were supposed to be in. Maybe not so much for a meeting with the Bats and his birds.

You look right ahead at Constantine, “I don’t like being summoned.” 

“Ah, but you’re the best person I know for this job. I had to get you over here.” he says.

You take a quick look at all the other people in the room. Then at the screen behind them. Your information is plastered on it. Well, the information that you’ve decided to let the government think was yours. Your codename was at the top of the screen.

“Constantine says that you’re the best way into the underworld.” Batman says.

You’re confused to say the least. Constantine was Constantine, why would he call you in order to get them into the underworld when he can do it himself? It defeats the purpose of having to call him.

“I’m sorry,” you direct to Batman and then look at your friend, “I need you to state specifically what I’m needed for.” 

Constantine moved from the family over to you. As he did you watched as Nightwing followed him with his own eyes. Now Dick knows you’re not just Jason’s friend from around Gotham. Great.

“Bats got intel that something it going down with this magic group, the-” he starts. “hex mutiny.” you finish.

“You already know about them?” Nightwing says.

“I was just getting someone to put in a good word for me with them before you summoned me here. You’ve got great timing you know that?” you say to Constantine.

He smiles, “Well then it seems like you can be of great service, spygames.”

“And what exactly would I be doing, if I can even get a spot with them?” you throw out the question to the family.

Red Robin crosses his arms, “We need someone on the inside to tell us what they are planning for Gotham.”

“I doubt they’d let a newbie in on their plans.”

“Good thing you won’t be a newbie.” Batman says.

Constantine conjures an amulet in his hand. You want to hit him over the head. He could really be a pain in the ass. You grab it from him.

“With this, you’ll be in the perfect position to get in and get out. Easy.” he says.

You shake your head, “Every time you say that I get a new scar.” 

“I promise sweetheart. No scars this time.” 

“Yeah yeah, you owe me for this.”

EXACTLY ONE WEEK LATER

You knew you would end up wounded. Typically with Constantine it was nothing deadly, or nothing your own magic couldn’t fix. But you knew that your luck had to run out some day. And it wasn't his fault.

After finding out what the group was really up to you couldn’t just let them operate. They weren’t really rebels. No they used that name to paint a narrative. They were fascists.

You held the wound to your waist to stop the bleeding. This would have to be the farthest you could go. There was no way you could run out of this. Not with the blood seeping through the cracks of your fingers.

At least you brunt the members down to the ash. It took a lot out of you. And that’s why you weren’t prepared for a hit that tore right through you. 

“Why aren’t you moving?” Jason, or Redhood, said through the comms.

You leaned against the hallway wall.

At least you’d die someplace pretty. When you first came in you didn't notice how clean and meticulous everything was. There were painting of famous magicians on the walls. Along with some stolen art, a Van Gogh or two. 

You ripped the amulet off your neck and felt the illusion fade. The necklace fell to the floor and you let out a pained breath.

“I think,” you coughed and on the clean wall was not splatters of blood, “this is it.”

You could hear Jason shouting on the other end. He was calling out your name, calling out for Constantine to come and help you. Duke was calling for you too. And you could’ve sworn you heard Cass say your name once. 

With your only free hand you tried to open a portal out of the base. You knew it would be useless as you had a mortal wound and portal magic works best under no stress and panic, or blood loss. The usual light from your hands glowed faintly until it didn’t.

“Constantine can’t summon you?” Dick asked.

At that you let your body drag down the wall until you reached the floor. When you did sit down more blood came out. So you decided to lay down horizontally. 

“Hey hey- I told you I wasn’t gonna let anything happen to you.” you hear Constantine through the comms.

You want to laugh, but it ends out more of a chocked gargle.

“I screwed up the mission. I deserve it.” you said.

“You did good. Better than any of us.” Batman said.

“Constantine you need to call in whatever favors you have to get her out of there. Now!” Jason shouted.

“Dont,” you started.

“No. We’re getting you out of there-”

“Jason, I’m not a saint. I never would’ve imagined going out like this.” you said.

Once you were born you were thrusted in this world. All you knew was to use magic as a weapon. To get ahead, to get power, to get the glory. And that lasted you until you turned 19. 

Then Constantine crossed paths with you. He was the one to show you that magic has other uses. Such as helping and healing. You learned the best stuff from him.  And you took what you learned and began to help in ways you could.

You didn’t go on the straight and narrow. Never did you consider yourself a morally correct person. Sometimes the lines were blurred, or they need to be blurred. And so you took down seedy organizations, went on recon missions all over the world.

It wasn’t justice. But it was close enough that you could sleep at night or the odd hours of the morning for more than four hours.

“Sweetheart I don’t break my promises.” Constantine said finally.

You were just beginning to feel your eyes grow heavy. The pain was starting to be comfortably numb. Then above you appeared someone you weren’t expecting in the slightest. 

“Caliban?” you asked.

“You owe me double.”

4 DAYS LATER

When you woke up you felt battered and weak You weren’t used to these feelings and you weren’t used to being so close to death. Everyday was a new experience when you’re the Priestess of Espionage.

You cracked open one eye to find a couple of deviants at your side. Jason, Duke and Cass. The youngest took the chair next to you while Duke and Jason seemed to take the floor. Since they weren’t in their gear you guessed that you were out for longer than a couple of hours.

“Not my version of hell but I’ll allow it.” you say in a raspy voice.

It wakes everyone up.

Jason and Duke bolt to your bedside.

“Why’d you almost die on me?” and “Are you feeling okay?” come from them both, respectively. It makes you want to laugh but when you feel the ache in your waist you stop yourself.

“I’m alive, so there’s that. Positives.” you answer.

Jason shoots his younger siblings a look and they scurry out the room. You try to sit up to ask what it was for but he puts his hands up for you to stop any movement. So you lay back down.

“He would kill me if you tore your stitches.” 

You shut your eyes, “Jason I don’t think Constantine would kill you per say.”

You hear the door opening so you decide to open your eyes. And sure enough you see Jason leaving the room and someone coming in. Dick Grayson, out of his suit as well. 

As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t read his face. Besides the clear betrayal that was there. He definitely knew that you knew he’s Nightwing.

“Hi.” you say.

His face softens, “Hi.”

“I just want to say that I would’ve told you about who I am. Sooner that you think actually but this mission kinda derailed all of that.” you say.

With his arm crossed over his chest he nods, “How long did you know I was Nightwing?”

You wince.

“For about two years now. Once Jason told me he was Red it was hard to not notice the similarities of the Wayne family and the Bat one.” 

He laughs at that and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. It must be going good if he wants to laugh. 

“And when did he tell you that I like you?” he asks.

“He didn’t explicitly say that.” 

There’s a beat of silence. You’re looking at him and he’s looking at you. But he’s the one who seems to be holding his breath this time. You try to hide the smirk you feel forming on your lips.

“What?” he asks.

“Jason had told me that I should ask you out. He didn’t say anything about you liking me.” you answer him.

The red tint that covered Dick Grayson was absolutely adorable.

He nods his head to himself. Twice.

“I- I’m gonna get Jason for you.” he moved to the door.  And you don’t really know what to say. All your words get jumbled in your brain and you can’t put them together in a way that is smooth enough so you deicide to just try your best.

“If you were to ask me out, I would say yes.” you say.

He looks directly at you. Then his signature smirk appears.

“I’ll bring back some food for later.” he says.

“it’s a date.” you answer.

#dc x reader #Dick Grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #Dick Grayson imagine #nightwing imagine #dc imagine #dc #nightwing #Dick Grayson #Jason Todd x reader #Jason todd imagine

[reidyoulikeabook]

A is for Ankle Socks

Summary: The first installment in my A-Z of Spencer Reid series. Spencer Reid is very particular about his socks.

Ship: fem ! BAU reader x Spencer Reid

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Discussions of case-typical violence, blood, brief description of a fight, minor injury to reader that requires some stitches.

A/N: hello! this is my first ever series and i’m very nervous about it! it’s going to be a chronological a-z series with Spencer, detailing the progression of your relationship!

Spencer Reid permanently wears odd socks. The only time you can recall him wearing matching ones, in the year you’ve known him, was on days he had to go to court. Then, it was required that he wear the technically mandated uniform of proper leather shoes, and monochrome socks. On those days, Hotch would turn up with a pair of black socks tucked into his briefcase, just in case. Spencer had needed them, twice.

However, today is not a court day. Today is day 8 of a case in back of beyond Oregon that, quite frustratingly, seems to be going absolutely nowhere.

It says quite a lot, really, that in a day spent combing over convicts with domestic violence charges, the sight you look up to see is more viscerally disturbing. Spencer’s perched on the end of a desk, as he so often seems to be, his ankles crossed over each other. Signature black converse on his feet. And he appears...not to be wearing socks?

He notices you looking at him, and flicks his eyes downward self-consciously, “Is something wrong?”

“Are you wearing socks?”

He lets out a quiet laugh, “Uh. No. I meant to go to the laundrette last night but then Hotch called us into that meeting. I wasn’t expecting to be out here this long.”

“Is it comfortable?” You ask, “Wearing those without socks?”

He kicks his feet around just slightly, “Not really. I guess I’d forgotten about it until you mentioned.”

“Sorry,” You say, with an apologetic smile.

“Not your fault,” He says, looking back at the paperwork in his lap, “Hey would you mind coming to take a look at this actually? I think I might have something.”

***

By day 2, you’d learnt that the only sandwich shop in town had a reputation for bad food hygiene that none of you felt like risking. Normally, everyone would roll their eyes at Spencer for his investigation into such things. However, in this case, everyone else seemed to be as thankful as you always were.

It’s your turn to do the lunch run today, so you head to the grocery store that isn’t too far out of town. Putting your car in park, you mentally run through the list that the team had given you: cheap pasta for everyone but Rossi, who was willing to risk running foul of their microwave meal selection, as many coffee supplies as you could manage, some sour gummy worms for Spencer, mineral water for Hotch, and tights for you. It was frankly quite impractical to wear the things. You ran through so many brambles, fell down so many times, that you almost felt you should get pantyhose hazard pay. In fall in Oregon though? You’d splash out the $6 for the sake of preventing frostbite. If only because Hotch would be furious.

You smile at the thought. Wandering through the aisles, you collect everything you need. Spencer only asked for a pack of sour gummy worms, but, with a smile on your face, you decide to get him the strawberry laces he likes too.

It’s only when you scan the cart, last minute, that you realise what you’ve forgotten.

Tights. Shit.

Wheeling the cart around, you weave through the aisles looking for them. The underwear aisle is aisle 20, and it looks like it’s been ransacked. Flicking through the disorganised display, you see them.

A five pack of socks, adorned with farm animals and backgrounds of a completely clashing colour. It’s almost too bright for you, but you know a certain sockless Spencer who will be sure to appreciate them. Out of curiousity, you navigate your way over to the men’s section and have a look through. Mostly, it’s all black and navy. Right at the back though, you spy a similarly garish looking pack, this time with vegetables on.

You put them in the basket, eyes flickering over a pair of matching aubergine patterned boxers, as you make your way over to the tights. You select your usual kind, turning your attention back to the boxers.

Is it weird to get him boxers?

He’d know it was a joke, right?

Is it weird to get him socks?

Well he didn’t have any

Yeah but you don’t need to get him two packs

Yes I do we might be here a while

10 more days?

He could fall. He could spill coffee on his shoes. He could get shot.

How would socks help with him getting shot?

Your internal monologue gives you a moments reprieve, and then.

Kinda weird you got him socks

Nobody else would have got him socks

Yeah well I’m just thoughtful.

The last thought crosses your mind without permission, and you almost bristle at the brazenness of your lie to yourself. However, you decide, examining the real reasons you’re so eager to provide comfort to your favourite co-worker would require mental stamina you didn’t have right now. Mental stamina that would be better put to use on the case at hand. Mental stamina that definitely wasn’t being used to employ the BAU’s favourite defense mechanism: denial.

***

“I got you a surprise.”

“A surprise?” Spencer spins around in his chair to face you.

“Yep,” You say, plopping the sweets down onto the desk in front of him and grinning.

“Strawberry laces!” He says, smile lighting up his face, “Thanks ____!”

“That’s not the surprise.”

He quirks his brow, confusion tugging at his features, “Then what’s the surprise?”

You untuck your arms from behind your back, handing him the pairs of socks.

He looks down at them. He’s silent for a moment, and your heart thuds.

Fuck.

Told you it was weird.

It’s definitely weird.

He definitely thinks you’re-

You don’t have time to finish that thought, however, because Spencer scoots his chair back. Standing up, he pulls you into a hug. He gently squeezes you, and when he speaks his voice is low, cracking a little.

“Thank you,” He says quietly, “That was really thoughtful of you. Thank you.”

You lean into him, allowing yourself to be enveloped, “No problem. I know you have some issues with sensory things sometimes and I just thought, you know,” you trail off, “Anyway, I didn’t know which ones you’d prefer and I know you like to mix and match anyway so I just got both.”

He doesn’t say anything. But he squeezes you again, tighter this time, before releasing you. Strangely, he won’t meet your eye as he does.

“I’m gonna go put them on, okay?”

“Okay,” You say, watching a little quizically as he hurriedly heads out of the room.

Derek happens to be heading back to the room, bumping into Spencer on his way out.

“You alright kid?” He asks.

“I'm fine," Spencer says, waving him off. He tries to avoid meeting Derek’s eyes, knowing as well as he does that if the profiler catches the look on his face he’ll be found out.

Derek allows him to shrug past him with a confused glance over his shoulder. He walks into the room, scooping the nearest file off the desk and asking in your general direction, “You know what’s up with him?”

“Nope,” You say, popping the p.

You don’t. And it’d bother you, except you genuinely don’t have time right now to dwell on it. Although, try as you might to focus on narrowing down this list of factories in the area, it niggles at you.

***

You don’t see Spencer again until you’re heading out to the unsubs location. You get called out by Hotch in the minute before he returns, and then it’s all guns blaring. Emily and Dave managed to work some magic with Penelope, and the place he’s holding the hostage has been narrowed down to a factory quite far out of town.

You’re perched in the back, discussing entry tactics with Hotch when your eyes travel down to Spencer’s shoes.

One chicken, and one broccoli sock sit on his left and right feet respectively. It’s hard to see them though, with how far they are down his feet.

Hotch answers his phone then, immediately barking down commands at the local PD who are apparently failing to summon adequate manpower, in Hotch’s opinion at least.

You take the moment to cautiously lean over to Spencer, whispering, “Were they not the right size?”

He smiles at you, “They fit just fine as ankle socks.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even think to check the sizes, womens ones are pretty much all one size. I completely forget that men have massively different sized feet.”

He laughs, “Are you suggesting I have huge feet?”

You feel yourself flush a little, “I don’t think that’d necessarily be an inaccurate suggestion.”

Amused, he smiles. Hotch turns around to you both, momentarily taking his eyes off the road, “I need you to call Penelope, and tell her to get us all the CCTV she can get in the area. If we’re going to have to go in without enough men to cover the perimeter we’ll need all the tactical advantages we can get.”

“Of course, sir.”

***

Lunging forward, you tackle the unsub to the ground, effectively freeing Spencer from the grasp he’d previously been held in.

“It’s over Peter,” Hotch’s voice comes, even and steady.

“No it’s not.”

Before you can even register what’s happening, you’re being tossed backwards, landing against some barbed wire. Immediately, you’re on your feet again, running after him. Not noticing how the wire has ripped a hole in your tights, and cut into your leg a little.

Grabbing his arms behind him, you use all your strength to subdue him to the floor, handcuffing him. Wiping the sweat off your brow, you breathe out a deep sigh of relief.

Derek has it from there, patting you on the shoulder and giving you a “Good job kiddo.” He leads Peter out.

You rub your chest, feeling the adrenaline start to flood out of your body with all the excitement now over. A stinging senstation in your calf gets your attention, and looking down you see the nasty wound oozing blood. It isn’t much, nothing that two stitches won’t fix.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asks, having gotten up from his position on the floor, “You didn’t have to...Derek would have gotten him.”

“Why should he be the only one that gets to tackle people?” You ask, letting out a breathless tinkle of a laugh.

“Statistically, he is the one who does the most tackling out of all of us. Then Hotch, then Emily, then Rossi, then me, then you.”

“I am not the one that tackles the least,” You say indignantly.

He tips his head to the side, “Are you gonna argue with the guy who has an eidetic memory or are we going to get you stitched up?”

“Both, please.”

He laughs at that, linking his arm around your waist. You limp against him a little, out to the paramedics. Mostly it’s for Spencer’s benefit. That’s what you tell yourself, you’re letting him help you so he doesn’t feel emasculated.

When has Spencer Reid ever fallen pray to toxic masculinity?

He might have

When?

Well he could

You just like how he smells

It’s true. The faint waft of his cologne is incredibly comforting. He doesn’t loosen his grip on you for even a second, helping to hoist you so you can sit on the ambulance bed while the medics attend to your leg. You’re feeling a little woozy, so Spencer sits next to you, allowing you to lean on him for support.

“Can you tell me something?” You ask, gritting your teeth, “Distract me?”

It doesn’t really hurt, getting stitched up, you’ve just never found it the most comfortable of processes. All your favourite cases have ended with you not having to get sewn up. You know that much.

“I’ve actually only tackled one more person than you in my entire BAU career,” He says, deciding to return to your former discussion, “I didn’t really go out in the field all that much until a couple years in, it was only because of Hotch that I really went out in the field to take down an unsub for the first time. That was March 12th, 2005. You’ve only been here 9 months and have done almost as much physical stuff as me. One more and we’re even.”

“Well, if you could try not to be the person getting tackled by the unsub next time. Then I might not have to make a tackle.”

His mouth turns up at the corner, “You tackled him for me?”

You feel yourself growing embarassed, “Not for you. For the socks.”

“Oh the socks?”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s a little unfair to go putting yourself in harms way while wearing a gift someone got for you. 5 dollar socks Spencer, practically designer at that price, I’d hate to see them ruined day one.”

He laughs, his tone playful, “Well you’ll need to bare that in mind.”

“Huh?”

He tilts his head towards Emily, strutting her way across to the ambulance with Spencer’s go-bag in her arms. She hands it to him, smiling at you.

“Should I let Morgan know the team will no longer be in need of his services?”

You snort, “I’d hate to steal his brand.”

She shakes her head, “Drinks when we get back? Hotch said the jet’s ready for whenever you’re done, and Rossi says he’s buying.”

“You got it,” You nod.

She pats you on the shoulder, exaggeratedly eyeing your leg again and rolling her eyes as she walks away, “Idiot.”

You smile, turning back towards Spencer, “Are you coming for drinks? I can drive you home.”

He visibly considers it for a moment, “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

“You’re all done here,” The paramedic interrupts, wiping down your leg with an anti-bacterial wipe, “Was a really smooth tear for barbed wire, shouldn’t leave that much of a scar.”

They press a bandage over it and you thank them, getting to your feet with the help of Spencer.

“Wait, why’d you get Emily to bring your go-bag if we’re going home?”

He looks almost bashful. Out of his bag, he pulls a three pack of tights. Just the kind you always wear. Down to your preferred brand, and everything.

“When did you-?”

“I noticed you rip them a lot while we’re on cases. I didn’t know if it was weird but then...the socks?” He gestures at his feet, floundering, “I’m sorry if that’s...I just didn’t-”

“No,” You cut off his ramble, “No, Spencer, that’s really sweet. Thank you, thank you so much. Can I hug you?”

He nods, happily. You wrap him into your arms, pressing your face against his chest. Inhaling the scent of him. Reveling in how safe you feel, how protected, thinking how you’d take three hundred stitches if it meant you got Spencer out of harms way. He was so thoughtful, so kind, so attentive to detail.

Oh fuck.

You can barely look at him. It hits you like a train, the realisation. Co-workers save each other from unsubs. Friends buy each other gifts that have meaning and value. But only somebody who is in love feels like this when they get handed tights. Oh.

It’s a warm feeling. Overwhelming. So much so that you miss Spencer saying he’ll be right back, scooting off to Rossi who’s shouting him over with a question the local PD need answering for their report.

You stumble a little, thankful that you have the blood loss and adrenaline rush to blame if anybody were to notice.

You wait for the wave of denial to hit, to come and lock your feelings back in the treasure chest you’ve managed to shove them down into now. It doesn’t come. Instead, you look at Spencer with a sense of awe that feels newfound, but has actually been here all along. Watching him speak to Rossi, you really notice him: just how much he gestures with his hands, how quickly he relays information, how the huge smile on his face, when he turns around to notice you staring, truly meets his eyes.

***

You can’t tell if it makes you a good profiler, or somewhat of a stalker, that you notice Spencer wears the ankle socks you got him to work everyday for the next 9 days.

Spencer worries he’s being a little too obvious, but he can’t help that whenever he sees the socks he beams at them. They remind him of you. Unbeknownst to everybody but Dave (who somehow notices everything), he spends a good minute or so a day sneaking a peek at the novelty socks under his converse. And then trailing his eyes over to you. Thinking how much he loves the person who got them for him.

----

B is for Blindfolds

Tagslist (this is just people who replied to the post about this series and said they’d like to be tagged! let me know if you’d like to be added/removed to this series masterlist): @reidingmelodies @rem-ariiana

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #imagine spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #imagine criminal minds #criminal minds x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic

[holykillercake]

FRIED EGGS

KOBY x Pirate!Reader

word count: 2k

summary: Being infiltrated as a Marine and keeping your feelings under control was easy until you were assigned to work with Marine Captain Koby. How you wished he was a jerk.

highlight: ¨I am kissing you... but I am angry, Y/N-san...¨

warnings: read under the risk of developing diabetes.

notes: Hey, guys! This was a lovely request from @pure-kirarin! <3 I had to stop other projects to make this one because Koby threw me out of my comfort zone hahaha I really hope you like!! ALSO 1) Happy Birthday Sabo-kun! ALSO 2) In order to add more dept to the story, the main character is part of a Yonkos´crew, but I wrote in a way that all fit, so choose your favorite! ALSO 3) ART ALERT!

Leave comments, hearts and love!

¨You have been doing a remarkable job in such little time, Commander L/N. We all have great expectations regarding your transference to our Marine Headquarters.¨ 

The words of the Rear Admiral barely scratched your mind as you discreetly observed the pink-haired boy´s reflection on the crystal clear window. 

He maintained a similar posture to yours: chin up, chest out, shoulders back, and stomach in. However, while your fingers remained paralleled to your trousers, you took a glimpse of his clenched fist, thumb fidgeting the side of his index finger. 

¨Vice Admiral Tsuru was reluctant to sign your transfer. She said you remind her of herself in the past, which is always an excellent compliment to hear.¨ you nodded, acknowledging his words  ¨We´re glad we convinced her.¨

Your heart warmed with his words, and you almost felt bad because you knew the disappointing outcome O-Tsuru-san would have at the end of this. She trained you with the iron face of a merciless soldier, and the elegance that resembled the animal of her name.

It has been three years since you received the green card from your captain to part ways in a long-term solo mission. A journey to excavate the putrid secrets of the so-called defenders of the law. You learned after a short time that justice is not so black and white.

Not that you planned to reveal the dirt, no. That intel your captain could sell to the Revolutionary Army and keep the capital running. You were interested in the arms race, the corrupt diplomacy, and more importantly, the dark pipes where traitors flowed.

Someone from inside the Yonkos was feeding the Marines with crucial information about the Emperors´ activities. And in such a close fight, you could not take those risks.

All other Emperors must have their own undercover agents within the Marines, but even that was a dispute. You could point some names to your boss, who confirmed what was suspected. Those would usually be the best of the best, extravagant and loud.

But not you. You didn't have to make that much noise. You slid between the floors of New Marineford like a snake swimming with the current. Earning the respect of your superiors and being promoted without ringing any bells. You accepted each medal with a firm salutation and relentless performance. 

¨The trip must have been displeasing. Submerging ten thousand meters underwater and rising to these fiendish waters require a good rest. Our Marine Captain Koby will escort you to your quarters, Commander Y/N. The remaining instructions shall be presented tomorrow.¨

You saluted the Rear Admiral in front of you and turned to the exit, passing by Koby, who waited for you to leave first.  When your paths crossed, the pace of your heartbeats quickened, pumping more blood through your body and leaving a burning sensation on your cheeks. 

The involuntary response was instantly interpreted as alertness to danger, which needed to be handled with caution. 

Can´t let my guard down around this one, you thought.

In fact, you planned to keep as much distance as you could from him. An officer let slip that he has been gaining incredible control over his Observation Haki since the Paramount War. 

But the wind seemed to change direction, and you began to swim against the current. When the morning came, you were assigned to be his partner for an undetermined time, and he would act as your superior. The idea of being bossed around by a younger marine got your temper sparked. 

Only he was not like the others, treating you in a patronizing and condescending way. He spoke to you with the same cordiality and politeness he addressed everybody else. 

Slowly, your concrete cold expression began to soothe. You would still remind yourself how annoying his good manners were, though. So annoying, seriously!

¨Good morning, Y/N-san!¨ he greeted as you joined him for breakfast. 

¨Good morning, Koby.¨ 

¨Our Border Force correspondent sent his report early in the morning with information about possible Yonkos´ alliances in the Wano Country. We are arranging a meeting as soon as possible.¨ 

You didn´t like to handle work so early, but this subject, in particular, raised your spirits. ¨Good. It was about time.¨

You noticed that he wore a different headband. ¨What happened?¨ 

¨Hm?¨ he brought the soup bowl close to his mouth. 

¨The bandana. Green, with the fried eggs.¨ he choked on the miso soup, coughing like he had swallowed poison. 

You reached for a paper tissue and handed it to him. ¨K-Koby, are you ok?¨

¨Y-Y/N... Y/N-san...¨ he coughed some more ¨They´re not... fried eggs...¨

¨Oh...¨ your brows raised slightly ¨What are they?¨

A depressive aura grew around him ¨They are flowers, YN-san...¨

The edge of your lips contorted as you tried to hide a smile. You haven´t felt like smiling genuinely for years. Annoying boy!

From that moment on, ignoring him became more difficult. He started to ask you to train with him or invite you to spend some time with him and Helmeppo whenever you had free time. Eventually, he began to ask you how he looked before an important meeting. 

Most of the time, you would reply something like ¨ok¨. But sometimes, the mouth was quicker than the brain, and you would let an ¨impeccable¨ slip out, followed by an awkward throat clearing and blushed cheeks. 

From both sides.

•

¨Oh my-¨ you stopped yourself from finishing the sentence. 

You were chosen to complete this mission due to your excellent skills in hiding emotions and acting calm under stressful situations. No one could break you. 

Within the Marines, no joke could make you crack a smile, and no torture could make you spill secrets. 

Why did you want to ask if he was ok?

Koby had entered his office with bumps and bloody bruises over his face. His always neat uniform was blotchy, and he carried a first aid kit. 

¨Garp-san paid a visit.¨ He sat on the couch and opened the white box, throwing everything on the coffee table. ¨I bet it wasn't like this with Tsuru-san.¨ he chuckled. 

¨No. She would beat me up, wash me and hang me up to dry.¨ 

You shot from the chair, moving towards the clumsy pinkette, who struggled to attend to his injuries. He tried to hold the mirror with one hand and suture his gash with the other. 

¨Thank yo-¨

¨Shh. Don´t move.¨

You leaned closer to have a better look, giving Koby the same chance. Your delicate perfume smelled like it was tailor-made for you. Your breathing was slightly irregular, and your lip twitched with every given stitch. Your fingers felt like feathers on his skin, so much that he didn´t even feel a sting. 

The job was fast and efficient, making Koby wish Garp had put more effort into his Love Fist. Grabbing a piece of wet cotton, you cleaned the dried blood.  

¨Alright...¨ you whispered.

¨Alright...¨ he whispered back.

You were inches apart from his face, your eyes traveling across the scar on his forehead, the pink locks, and kind features. Your mind traced back all the way to the Paramount War. You had very little knowledge about him, but the words he spoke that day have always made your heart pound like cannonballs. 

You will make an excellent Admiral one day, Koby. 

I hope you don´t hate me. 

¨Y-Y/N-san...¨

¨Hm?¨

¨Your smile is beautiful.¨

¨What?¨ The stupid scene of yours was interrupted like a DJ stopping the record player. 

With cheeks getting pinker than his hair, you shot up and marched back to the chair and your newspaper. ¨You clean this up.¨ 

He left a low chuckle out and began gathering the mess. 

Oh, no, Y/N. You have got to be kidding me. 

He is a freaking marine. Breathe. 

There were a vast number of reasons why you couldn´t like him: from him being a Marine Captain and you being a pirate to the fact that your mission was coming to a conclusion.

Meaning that your journey as his partner would be very soon reaching its end. The meeting with this mysterious correspondent regarding the Yonkos´ operations in the New World would be the last move in this chess game. You would be going home. Mission completed. Everything perfect, right? 

Right, perfect. Impeccable! Ugh!

•

¨... confirm secure line.¨

¨This is Border Officer code 404890. Secure line confirmed.¨ you spoke with a low but clear voice through the nail transponder. 

¨What´s the status on our birdie?¨

¨Positive. The birdie is located at 03:24:01.¨ you gave your boss a coordinate to the name of the Marine informant. The answer you took three years to find out remained on file number one, third page, suspect number twenty-four. 

An amused laugh echoed on your end, and you buried the speaker on your jacket to muffled the sound. 

¨At least he is not one of ours.¨ a chuckle ¨Great job, Y/N.¨

¨Thank you, boss.¨

¨I know this mustn't have been easy, but you were impeccable as always.¨

Yeah, impeccable. 

¨You know the protocol now. We´ll see each other in a few days. You´ll have a party waiting for you, kid.¨

¨Aye, aye, boss. But I want the good booze.¨  Both of you laughed. 

You finished the call, and the smile on your lips died as the image of a pink-haired boy invaded your mind. You wished he was a jerk like everybody else. 

It would have been so easy. 

¨Who were you talking to?¨ your chest contracted, pushing the air out of your lungs and sending extra blood supply to your muscles. 

You hid the transponder into your jacket and turned, facing your Marine Captain. 

¨Eavesdropping, Koby?¨

What should I do?

¨Y/N-san, who were you talking to?¨ he repeated himself, offering the benefit of the doubt. You sighed.

¨My captain.¨ 

Why the need to be honest with him?

¨Y/N-san, please don´t tell me-¨

¨I´m sorry, Koby. I wish I didn´t have to do this.¨ you couldn´t bring yourself to face him.

¨A-Are you a pirate? Why?¨

You chuckled ¨Why am I a pirate?¨

¨Why did you do this?¨ his face was pale, making your guts twitch in guilt.

¨I´m on a mission. But I´ll leave soon.¨

¨You are like... Vergo-san.¨ he sounded disappointed.

¨I am nothing like Vergo. You know this.¨ or at least you hoped he did. 

He closed the door slowly, eyes fixed on your figure. The bright light from the window made him look like an ethereal painting.

While you tried to predict his next move, whether he was going to interrogate you or kick your ass, Koby acted calm and collected, not hesitating. He trusted his Observation Haki to guide his next move. Or maybe his heart.

You saw a pink blur closing distance like a missile, and before you could dodge, his hands pulled you by the waist, connecting your bodies and lips. 

He forced your back to meet the thick window with a gasp that was muffled by the kiss. His touch was rough upon the fabric of your uniform, but his mouth felt soft against yours.

Your hands moved to his hair, removing the round pair of glasses and the green bandana so you could get lost in his locks. His grip was harsh under the fabric of your uniform, but his hair felt soft on your fingertips. 

A moan escaped your lips when he parted the kiss with a loud snap and struck the glass with both hands, keeping you trapped in the middle. You let go of his hair and grabbed him by the collar, not letting him go away.

¨I am kissing you... but I am angry, Y/N-san...¨ his breath was heavy and carried with a myriad of emotions. 

¨I know... I am sorry.¨

¨Why?¨

¨Because I like you, Koby. A lot.¨ he paused for a second, fighting the urge to admit the same.

¨What was your mission?¨

This is the last lie, I promise, Koby. ¨The Marines possessed vital information about something my boss wants. I needed to get it.¨

¨Now that I know that you´re a pirate and that you stole Marine´s assets, I´m gonna have to hunt you down.¨

¨I´ll be waiting for you.¨ 

You stared him in the eyes, and he kissed you to stop himself from saying what he really wanted. 

I love you, Y/N-san.

Diary of Koby-Meppo: The Fried Egg Life Crisis.

💕 @vemuabhi

#koby #koby x reader #coby #coby x reader #marines #marineford #new marineford #paramount war #the warof the best #vice admiral #tsuru-san #otsuru-san #garp #monkey d garp #fleet admiral #sakazuki #akainu #rear admiral #four emperors #emperors of the sea #yonko #shanks #red hair shanks #kaido #kaido of the beasts #big mom #charlottle linlin #marshall d. teach #blackbeard #helmeppo

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Memories

Summary: When Dean discovers the reader has abilities she’s never told him about, he breaks things off. But when she wanders back into the Winchester’s lives a year later, he starts to realize there’s more to the situation than just a few lies...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Square: Case Fic

Word Count: 8,000ish

Warnings: language, angst, mentioned past abuse/violence, angst, sprinkle of fluff

A/N: Also written for @spndeanbingo​​

_____

Exactly three years and twenty two days after meeting the Winchesters it happened. Two and a half years of dating Dean. Countless nights in motel rooms, in the bunker, on hunts. Cuts, stitches, laughs. Colds and fevers. Being worried sick over one another and nearly dying for each other more than once.

You finally did it.

Dean saw it.

And he was so angry you didn’t even know how to respond.

You didn’t even say a word as he threw a pair of special cuffs on you. You didn’t mention how you weren’t a demon and the cuffs were useless on you. You didn’t put up a fight when you were sat down in the backseat and he drove the two of you back to the bunker.

You were quiet as you got out of the car, Dean not even saying a word as you headed straight for the dungeon without being told. He slammed the door shut after you as you sighed. You took a seat in the chair and slipped out of the cuffs with a little effort, the door opening not long after.

“How did you do that? The cuffs. You’re a demon,” said Dean as he walked straight over to you. 

“I’m not a demon,” you said. “You know it’s me, Y/N. Just-”

“What the hell are you,” he said, narrowing his eyes at you, his hand reaching behind his back and pulling out an angel blade.

“I’m human. I just…” you trailed off as you looked at your lap.

“Just what,” he said, grabbing your chin and lifting your head up.

“Do not treat me like I’m some monster. I saved your life two hours ago. You would be dead if I hadn’t done that. Do not treat me like the bad guy,” you said. He dropped his hand and you saw him hold up the blade.

“Talk.”

“I have certain...abilities,” you said. “One’s I haven’t used in years.”

“So you’ve been lying to me for years then, hm?” he said. 

“It’s not the abilities that pisses you off. It’s that I never told you, isn’t it,” you said. Dean cleared his throat and started to walk away, shoving the blade in his back pocket before he returned with crossed arms. “Dean-”

“You saved me, you get a pass. You have ten minutes to load up your stuff and leave,” he said.

“Dean. I-”

“This isn’t a white lie, Y/N,” he snapped, his face hard as you stood up. “This...this is whatever trust we had being over. If I can’t trust you, I can’t be near you. It’s that simple.”

“I never intended to use those abilities ever again. It’s not something hereditary. It would never have been of any consequence to anyone. I’m human. I didn’t tell you-”

“You didn’t tell me. I told you so much shit,” he said, the hard exterior starting to crack. “I told you about hell. About all the shit I did to souls. About the shit that was done to me. I never told anyone that. No one. That’s just one thing. I told you all of it. Every goddamn second and you...you…”

“It’s a very long story,” you said quietly. “A very long and horrible story that I was too scared to ever tell you. So I lied. I lied about a lot.”

“I don’t even know you,” he said. You reached out to grab his hand but he stepped away.

“Dean, I’m not gonna hurt you,” you said, trying to make your voice as soft as possible.

“You already did,” he said dryly, closing his eyes. “Please go. Don’t come back.”

“I-”

“I’m going out. Be gone by the time I get back.”

One Year Later

“Dean, we got another one,” said Sam. You lifted your head wearily, blinking your eyes open to spot Sam looking down at you. “Y/N?”

“‘ammy,” you mumbled, shutting your eyes again. Within a few seconds you were lifted up in his strong arms. You were drifting in and out, suddenly in the backseat of Baby and then in the infirmary in the bunker. After a little while you opened your eyes and sat up, feeling a bandage on your head. You swung your legs over the side of the bed and stood, immediately plopping back down.

“Sit,” said Dean. You looked behind yourself, Dean standing at a table, most of the lights in the room dimmed down. He spun around with a bowl in his hands and a tray of supplies. You recognized the needle and he was ripping off the gauze and stitching up your forehead before you knew it.

You hissed and he said nothing.

“Cas should be back in the morning. He can heal you then,” he said.

He worked quietly for a few minutes, new gauze stuck on your head when he was finished. He quickly left and hit off the light. You sat there until you heard footsteps, Sam poking his head in and carrying a tray with grilled cheese and tomato soup.

“Hey,” he said, setting it down on the nightstand.

“Hi, Sam,” you said.

“You were out most of the day. I thought you might be hungry,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said.

“Where did you go? You were here and then one day, you were gone. It’s not like you to screw up a hunt like that either.”

“I broke Dean’s trust,” you said. 

“There’s more to it than that,” he said.

“I’m a monster,” you said, laughing dryly when Sam stared at you. “I’m human but I’m a monster.”

“You’re one of the kindest people I know,” said Sam.

“I should go,” you said as you got to your feet. You took a leery step forward and another, Sam grabbing your hand.

“Y/N. What’s going on? You’re not a monster,” he said.

“Yes, I am. Thank you for trying to save me, Sam. But you can’t,” you said. You shrugged out of his grip and took a deep breath. You wound up outside of the bunker, by the bottom of the hill. Your head was spinning but you had enough head start that he wouldn’t find you.

You were staring at the river’s water when you heard a branch snap behind you and a flashlight light up the ground nearby.

“Not a very good hiding spot,” said Dean.

“I thought it was,” you said, closing your eyes, resting your chin on your knees again. “I’m too tired to fight Dean.”

“Good. It means I’ll win then,” he said. He stood next to you, clicking off the flashlight. “You told me about this spot, you know.”

“Once I told you.”

“I used to listen to you,” he said. 

“I don’t care about a scar on my forehead, Dean,” you said. “I’m not going back.”

“Rookie move getting caught on a hunt like that,” he said. “I thought you had super powers.”

“There’s a cost to using them,” you said quietly.

“You never said that before.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said.

“What does it cost?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” you whispered.

“Your soul?” he asked.

“No,” you said. “The only thing it ever cost me was you. I’m still a monster and a liar. Using them just reminds me of that.”

“Sammy mentioned you look ill,” said Dean. “I thought you looked scared.”

“You’d be doing me a favor by using that angel blade on me at this point,” you said.

“I’ve never wanted to kill you. I’m not going to kill you. You broke us was all,” he said.

“Yes. I did. So why are you here?” you asked.

“I heard there was a long and horrible story, that it might help me understand,” he said.

“No,” you said. He bumped your shoulder and you looked over at him. He stared and swallowed, glancing out at the water.

“Why not?” he asked.

“The time for that was a year ago. You didn’t want to hear it and I respected that. Respect my decision,” you said.

“Alright,” he said, sliding his hand into your coat pocket. You reached inside and felt the ball shape, narrowing your eyes. “Hex bag. You’re coming back with me.”

“First you tell me to go away. Now you make me come back. Take it out and let me leave, Dean,” you said.

“Not without that story. It’s a dick move, trust me, I know,” he said. You plucked out the hex bag and held it in your hand. It burned up in your hand, Dean wide eyed for a moment. “How…”

“Just let me run away. I won’t bother you ever again,” you said as you walked past him. His hand caught your arm and you closed your eyes, Dean gasping behind you. You heard him fall over as you looked back, his hands tied in front of him along with his feet.

“What…” he asked.

“You can’t get out of that, Dean. It’s the same stuff they use in Hell. When I’m away, I’ll remove it,” you said. You started to walk away and you slapped a piece of the material over his mouth when he shouted. “I’m sorry. It’s for-”

You felt yourself get tackled on the ground, your head knocking back against the paved path. 

“Sammy, don’t hurt her,” Dean said and you glanced over, your hold on him gone as he stood up. You tried to push the two of them away but your head hurt too much. You put your hands on it and curled up in a ball. “Call Cas. Tell him we need him home. Now.”

“Morning sunshine,” said Dean as you flickered open your eyes. You looked around, in a dimly lit old room. You touched your head and sat up, Dean setting down his book at the desk. “Cas healed you up. He said your head was looking like a smoothie in there.”

“Felt like it,” you said.

“You should have died like, back at that house on the hunt,” said Dean.

“I know,” you said.

“Apparently you have a ‘dark energy’ about you,” said Dean.

“Yet I’m not in the dungeon...or the bunker,” you said. Dean sighed and looked over your head, your gaze going up to the ceiling. “What is that?”

“Bit of a pain in the ass for me,” said Dean. “We don’t know what you are and that little trick by the river was pretty impressive but that sigil? Anyone with that symbol carved in them ain’t leaving a one mile square area. Two man minimum.”

“You’re holding me here,” you said.

“In this cabin and the surrounding area. I can’t leave either. Not until that gets removed and Cas is the only one that can undo it,” said Dean. 

“I can make you undo it,” you said. You stared him down, Dean frowning when he saw you tie his hands together in front of him. 

“Go ahead and do that. But I literally can’t undo it. We’re both stuck and Sam and Cas aren’t coming back unless it’s an emergency,” said Dean. You got up from the bed and went down a short hall, Dean following you and out through a front door. The air was chilly and you saw the sun was barely up. You walked and walked and walked until suddenly you bounced off of something. You put a hand against it, Dean sighing behind you. “Unless you’re God level powerful, you ain’t getting out.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me. Let me go,” you snapped. Dean held up his hands and you sighed, releasing him before you started to walk around.

“Y/N. Cas carved it into our bones. Rowena put the spell up. We are as stuck here as the day is long,” said Dean. 

“You can’t make me go back inside,” you said as you sat down and leaned back against the invisible wall. 

“I think you’re lying to me again. Something is wrong and you know it. You look sick. You’re weak. You-”

“Go away before I shut your mouth for you,” you said. He nodded and left, going back into the cabin. You sighed and wrapped your arms around your knees. “Castiel if you can hear me, come and take this off of me. Please. I just want to be left alone.”

One Week Later

“What do you want for dinner?” asked Dean as you stared out the window. It’d been raining all day. The cabin was nice and clean, modern and nice. The bathrooms were spa like and you seemed to somehow have internet all the way out in the middle of nowhere.

It would have been a great and peaceful vacation spot if there wasn’t the overwhelming threat in the air that you couldn’t leave.

“Y/N?” asked Dean.

“Whatever you want is fine,” you said quietly, watching the water roll down the panes. Dean walked over and handed you a blanket, running his hand over your head. “You will never get me to talk, Dean.”

“I was angry and I think we both know I had a right to be. But I think we both know I should have given you a chance to explain yourself and I didn’t. We both screwed up. When you’re ready to talk, we will. Until then...we can stay here and learn to be friends again. You’re safe here. You can try to recover from whatever it is that is running you down.”

“You stuck me here so I can’t go on a hunt,” you said. “Didn’t you.”

“That was part of it,” said Dean. 

“I’m not weak.”

“You can kick my ass all on your own. With these abilities you have? Pretty sure you win every time without lifting a finger,” he said. “Maybe you’re strong, way stronger than I’ve ever been. But you are sick. I can see it all over your face. You can recover here until we figure out what to do next.”

“I know what to do next but you won’t let me leave,” you growled. 

“This isn’t up for debate.”

You turned your head, Dean shoving your arm after a few seconds. He pointed at the tie over his mouth and you shrugged.

“You speaking isn’t up for debate,” you said. He rolled his eyes and went back to the kitchen, starting to move some pots around.

An hour later he shoved your arm again.

“What?” you said. Dean pointed at the food on two plates. You stood up and went to the table, sitting down and digging in. Dean took a seat across from you, grunting. You slurped down your pasta and stared at him. He scratched at the tie and you went back to eating, his eyes widening for a moment. “It’s not fun having someone control you, is it? Enjoy your Red Special.”

He narrowed his eyes and stood up, going to the bedroom he’d been using and slamming the door shut. 

After fifteen minutes and a few washed pots later, you went to the room, Dean sitting on the floor, his eyes red and puffy.

“Fuck, Dean,” you said, removing the tie and kneeling down. He wiped his hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I-”

“Red Special,” said Dean. “Red Special. That’s the first step in a Red Special and you know that. I told you all about Hell but I never told you the names of certain things so how the fuck do you know the name of it?”

You got up and tried to leave, Dean on his feet and grabbing your wrist quickly.

“Tell me. You owe me for that just now,” he said.

“Because I’ve gone through a Red Special before too,” you whispered. You shut your eyes and felt Dean’s hands on your shoulders, guiding you back into his room. He sat you down on the bed and told you not to move. He left for a few minutes before you opened your eyes, Dean returning with a sandwich and glass of water for himself. He shut the door and sat down at the head of the mattress, eating quietly as you sighed.

“You went to Hell?” he eventually asked.

“No.”

“...You had to. There’s no way you could survive-”

“I don’t want to tell you, Dean. Don’t make me tell you,” you said. He leaned over and took your hand, lacing your fingers together. You swallowed and shut your eyes.

“Were you...were you going to…” he trailed off as you shook your head.

“No. I could never do that to you. I shouldn’t have done what I did. My head just...it gets dark sometimes. It gets dark more often. The longer we stay here, the bigger the odds that I end up hurting you,” you said.

“Do you think it’s these abilities making that happen?” he asked.

“I know it is,” you said, a crack of thunder overhead.

“Then let’s try to take it away. Bare minimum information. Tell me and Sam and Cas the bare minimum you think we need to know and we’ll save the story for someday later,” said Dean. “I promise.”

Your whole body shuddered and he gave you a smile.

“S’okay. It’ll be okay,” said Dean. 

“The torturer’s curse,” you said quietly. Dean tilted his head at you and you gave his hand a squeeze. “It’s called the torturer’s curse. There’s no way to remove it.”

“We’ll find a way. We always do.”

Three Weeks Later

“Hi guys,” you said as Sam, Cas and Rowena walked into the cabin. “I made cookies earlier if you want some.”

“Maybe later. Let’s see if we can get you feeling better first,” said Sam.

“Did you bring the cuffs?” you asked.

“One pair of demonic, witch and curse proof cuffs,” said Cas, pulling them from his pocket. You nodded and tried to relax, shaking your head after a moment. Cas put them on and you saw Dean leave his bedroom, shaking his arms out. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah. I pissed her off this morning so you know, been fun around here today,” said Dean.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“Hey,” he said gently. “We’re gonna get you fixed up and you won’t be feeling any of this bad crap anymore.”

“I hope not,” you said. You took a seat at the table, Rowena and Sam moving around and setting things up. You had to give them some of your blood, the second it was in the bowl your whole body starting to buzz. “Hurry. It doesn’t like that.”

Rowenna threw something in the bowl and a puff of smoke appeared. She said a few words and then looked at you.

“Well?” she asked.

“I don’t feel any…” you said, quickly closing your eyes, everything off. You fell over, passing out for a few seconds.

“Hey, Y/N,” said Dean, shaking your shoulder as you woke up. Your whole body felt lighter. You tried to do something you could before, anything, but none of it seemed to work.

“Hey,” you smiled, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”

Cas put a hand on your head and nodded.

“I don’t sense the energy in her anymore,” he said.

“It’s gone?” asked Dean. You nodded and let out a laugh.

“It’s gone. It’s gone,” you said as they helped you sit up.

“How did you get a curse like that in the first place? That’s very, very dark magic,” said Rowenna as Sam took off your cuffs.

“It was a unique situation. It won’t happen again.”

“She won’t talk about what happened,” said Sam that night in the bunker. You were laying in your old bed, the boys talking in hushed whispers outside your room.

“I’m not pushing her. This curse was fucking with her head for a while and she’s had it who knows how long and she needs a little peace and quiet,” said Dean.

“Dean. The curse she had is not normal. It is old. The book we found the cure in...they only use the curse in something called a Hellscape. No one’s ever seen it in action. How the hell did she get it?” 

“I’m guessing she’s been to someplace called Hellscape then, genius. Lay off. She feels like shit. Go find a nice easy hunt for us or something,” said Dean. You heard the door open after a moment and Dean enter, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Need anything sweetheart?”

“Do you ever wish you never existed?” you asked. You felt him move around behind you and lay down, warm arms pulling you into an embrace. “That’s not an answer.”

“Maybe I used to, on bad days sometimes,” he said. “I’m glad you’re here though.”

“I’m not sure what the point is,” you said.

“Of life?” he asked as you nodded. “I think you try to leave this place better than you found it.”

“I don’t think that’s why I’m here,” you said.

“Why do you think you are then?” 

“To be miserable,” you said quietly. “A vast majority of my life has been a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. Then I got out of it when I found you guys and then I fucked that up and I’m back in the nightmare.”

“You’re not,” said Dean, resting his head against your back. “You’re not, I swear.”

“Maybe someday I’ll believe that,” you said as you shut your eyes.

“Y/N. Whatever you’re not telling me...it’s okay. I know it’s big. I’ll be here if you ever decide you want to share it. If not, that’s okay too,” he said.

“Thank you, Dean.”

“Hey,” said Sam the next morning at breakfast. “I found a hunt in Norfolk. It looks like a simple demon hunt if you guys want in.”

“Yeah that sounds good,” said Dean as you nodded. You went back to your eggs, closing your eyes. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Never better.”

“I think it’s that gym teacher. I had a bad feeling about him,” said Sam in the motel later that day. “No demon though.”

“Him and that assistant coach are weirdos,” said Dean. “You see the way they were looking at Y/N?”

“They’re not the person you’re looking for,” you said as you changed out of your fed suit, Sam quickly turning away. 

“How do you know that?” asked Dean. You sighed and slipped on some jeans and t shirt, plopping down on the bed. “Y/N.”

“Because this is my hometown,” you said. They looked at one another and scrunched up their faces. “I’m not from where I said I was. I lied about a lot. I get it. I went to high school with those guys, that’s why they were looking at me like that.”

“Well it has to be a teacher,” said Sam.

“No it doesn’t. It isn’t. I know exactly who it is,” you said, going to your bag and shoving your gun in your jeans.

“Care to share with the class?” asked Dean. 

“It’s my dad.”

“Your what?” he asked. “Your dad is dead.”

“A lie. My mom is but not him.”

“So a demon didn’t kill your parents?” asked Sam. “Or just your mom?”

“I killed my mom,” you said. Both of them shared a look, Dean looking you up and down. “I had my reasons.”

“Y/N,” said Dean, shaking his head. “Ignoring that bombshell, how do you know it’s your dad?”

“He’s the most evil thing in this town,” you said. 

“They didn’t...you know,” said Sam.

“Hurt me? Oh, I wish all they’d done to me was hurt me,” you said. Sam swallowed and you saw Dean nod. 

“Sammy. Go grab some dinner for us. Please,” said Dean. Sam excused himself but you knew Dean only did it for your benefit. “I’m starting to get the picture.”

“What picture is that.”

“Abusive parents with a kid that ends up having a horrible dark curse on them? I have a feeling you didn’t get that from your hunting days,” he said.

“I’ve had it since I was sixteen. I didn’t turn it on until I used an ability for the first time at eighteen when I got out of here for good. Every time I use them, the darker it got,” you said.

“Your dad do that to you?” he asked. “Curse you?”

“Indirectly. You know who gave me the actual curse,” you said. Dean tilted his head. “Alistair.”

You saw his face go white and you nodded.

“Alistair...you knew…” said Dean.

“I knew him before you did. My parents used to call him Ali when I was little,” you said.

“What?” breathed out Dean. “Don’t tell me...tell me he didn’t go near you as a child. Tell me that psychopath wasn’t near you as a kid.”

“I could but it’d be a lie,” you said. He sat down on the bed and ran his hand over his mouth. “It’s my dad that killed those two girls. I know it. Let’s just go deal with him and move on.”

“We are not ending the conversation there. Alistair? That’s-“

“Minimum information,” you said. “I already told you more than enough.”

“Y/N-“

“You of all people can understand why I don’t want to talk about that.”

“I talked about it,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to and I did and you know what? After I did, I felt a little better. I trusted you enough to tell you.”

“Dean,” you said, pacing around the room. “It’s not a trust thing. I’ve never told anyone and if you ever find out the whole truth, not the scraps you know, you’ll never look at me the same. I know I’m broken but you didn’t make me feel like it. You guys never did and I know you’ll see what I really am if you ever hear the truth. I’m sorry but I can’t go through that.”

“So you think I was broken?” asked Dean. You rolled your eyes and he stood up. “Did you lie about that too?”

“Go fuck yourself, Dean,” you said, grabbing your backpack. “I never lied about anything like that. You know what? Thanks for everything but I’m gone.”

You stormed out of there, Dean barely getting to the door by the time you were down the block.

Four Hours Later

“Ouch,” you said as you groaned awake. You were cold and your body instantly recognized the chill. You sat upright, the air leaving your lungs. 

It took a moment to realize you were panicking, breaths coming in little sharp jagged beats. 

“Y/N,” you heard from the dark side of the basement. The voice sang song and you backed up against the cinderblock wall. You could feel the shirt you had on now and the light cotton shorts, feel the band on your ankle as you watched him step into the light. “Y/N. Relax, honey. Don’t work yourself up.”

“I…” you said, remembering sneaking into the house and then it all going dark.

“You promised that someday you’d come back and kill me. I took precautions and now...we can go back to the way things were,” he said as he knelt down.

“Dad, don’t,” you said, burrowing back into the corner.

“Hunters aren’t as invincible as they say. I’ll make you a deal. You be a good girl and let Dad have a bit of blood to sell off every so often since you have that been to hell thing going for you, and I will leave the townsfolk alone. Hm? How’s that sound?” he asked. “Or better yet, you be good and I won’t have to do that thing you don’t like.”

“Alistair is dead,” you said as you finally found your voice.

“I know. But I can fool your mind into believing it’s with him, feeling all of that. I’ve learned a few things since you’ve been gone,” he said. “So. Good girl?”

Your body shook and he smirked.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get back to the way things were soon enough.”

He stood up and pet your head, walking away before he hit the light outside the door and locked it.

You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to use your abilities but they were gone.

The Winchesters were your only hope.

It felt like a day had gone by before the door opened. Your father had already paid you one unpleasant visit and you weren’t ready for another.

“Oh shit,” said Dean as the room filled with light. You covered your eyes before you dared expose them to the brightness, Dean rushing over and cupping your cheeks. “Hi, sweetheart. I’m gonna get you out of here.”

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“Me too,” he said. “I forgive you, for all of it. I promise. Let’s get you someplace safe.”

“You can’t cut it,” you said. “You need to break the seal.”

“Do you know how to do that?” he asked.

“You got a knife?” you asked. Dean pulled out a knife and handed it to you. You took a deep breath and held the tip to your foot. You dug into the flesh and sighed. You took the blade and cut into the band, the thing snapping open after a moment.

“What is that?” he asked.

“You can’t run that way,” you said. You stood up and Dean went with you. He helped you walk, pausing when you stopped halfway. 

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you shakily said, stepping over the midpoint of the room, gritting your teeth as you got to the door. Dean picked you up and carried you past the storage area and up the basement stairs, walking you quietly out to the front step outside.

“Where’s my dad?” you asked. 

“Sammy got him,” said Dean. “He’s in the office. I went looking for you.”

“Go check on Sam for me. I don’t trust my dad,” you said.

“If I see him, he’s getting a bullet,” said Dean. You nodded and Dean shrugged off his jacket, putting it over your shoulders before he headed inside. It was warm and smelled like him and you let yourself curl up in the warm safe feeling for a few minutes before you realized Dean hadn’t come back. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you stood and looked back at the house. You reached into the pocket of the jacket and pulled out Dean’s spare gun. It wasn’t his normal spare. You looked at it and recognized it as the the other one in the set he’d gotten for you years ago. 

You took that as a sign and slowly limped into the house, gun raised as you headed towards the back.

You turned inside and saw your Dad standing by the fireplace, Dean and Sam both knocked out on the floor.

“Winchesters will sell nicely,” he said. “Pieces of course. You will be punished appropriately.”

“No,” you said quietly, pointing the gun. He glanced at you and the weapon flew out of your hands. You were forced down to the floor and you gasped, staring up at him.

“You lose. You always lose,” he said. He grabbed your arm and started to pull you back towards the hall and presumably down to the basement. You caught Dean lazily staring at you. He poked his left side wearily and you reached into his inner left jacket pocket. 

The sound of a switchblade opening was deafening in the room, your father looking down just as you stabbed it into his thigh. You pulled it out and then scrambled backwards, your Dad stalking over you.

A gunshot rang out and he dropped to the ground. You rolled away, looking back to see Dean pointing his gun. 

“You okay?” he asked.

You got to your feet and walked out of the room, sitting down on the front step. You tucked your head between your knees, a gentle hand on your back a few minutes later.

“You’re alright, sweetheart. You’re alright.”

“Hey,” said Dean the next morning as you finished off your hash brown by the water. “Neat little diner they got around here.”

“S’good pancakes,” you said, popping the last piece in your mouth.

“You uh, didn’t say much last night. Or this morning.”

“Didn’t feel like talking,” you said, swinging your feet from where you sat on the railing. 

“You okay?”

“I feel better but I can’t believe it’s actually over,” you said. “I was always too scared to ever come back here.”

“I get it,” said Dean, leaning back against the railing, staring at the diner. “Talking...helps. Even if you were a pain in the ass about it back then.”

“You know when we met, I was so jealous of you. I really hated you,” you said.

“You did? Must have been my charming personality that won you over,” he chuckled.

“You were so happy and you and Sam...you have someone to love you, always. I know you weren’t happy like most people are but you got to have a little bit, a few moments at least. You guys always had each other and I wanted that so bad. I wish I’d had an older brother like you or a little one or something when I was a kid. You have no idea how screwed up I am, Dean,” you said.

“That’s funny,” he said, turning his head towards your own. “You’re one of the most normal people I know.”

“Dean.”

“I don’t know how or why but you are a good person, Y/N. Your parents from the little I do know were horrible. But you’re good and kind. You’re the opposite of screwed up.”

“I don’t feel like it,” you said.

“You will. Eventually,” he said, smiling softly. “Trust me. I learned from this really hot chick all the best ways to help.”

You glanced down and he moved behind you, wrapping his arms around you, kissing your cheek.

“I should have told you the truth back then,” you said.

“I should have been less of a dick. It’s okay. Nobody’s perfect,” he said.

“My parents made a demon deal,” you said, Dean shifting around to sit beside you. “You saw that house. My parents were nobody’s when they were younger. They wanted money and power and they met with a crossroads demon. They presented a unique deal. My soul for the deal,” you said. “I was almost two at the time I think.”

“That’s not possible,” said Dean.

“I know. The demon started to walk away when my parents got creative. Ten years from then, I’d go away for five years, with a demon. They could do whatever they wanted to me. The demon wasn’t interested at first but Alistair popped up all excited and said he wanted to test out some new stuff or something and then agreed. I spent my childhood knowing it was coming. Then I went away and lived in the Hellscape for five years. It’s like bringing hell to earth. It was basically this hidden away cabin in the woods. Apparently it can only be done every so often and needs a whole bunch of stuff and I was the lucky participant,” you said.

“Five years in hell or five years up here?” asked Dean.

“Up here.”

“Fuck,” he said, closing his eyes. “How many years…”

“If a month is ten years…” you said. “It wasn’t great. I blocked out a lot. I can’t even remember most of it. It was weird. I remember the pain but the duration is like a really crappy month or something. But yeah, I hung out in basically hell for five years before the deal was up. Alistair though, he liked me. He said I took a long time to break. He-”

“How long.”

“Hundred years,” you said, Dean nodding. “Dean...it wasn’t like what you went through. That was hell. This was his playground. Some days I was left alone.”

“Can I hear more?” he asked.

“So when my time was up, Alistair gave me the curse. He told me all about it, told me it would strip away the human emotions so I wouldn’t feel so bad. He encouraged me to rip my parents to shreds,” you said. “I wanted to too but when I got back home, I turned into the scared little girl again. I pretended to be a normal teenager at school and then home was...bad. But I met this boy. This guy was following me after one of the football games when I was walking home and this boy chased him off. Ricky. He was the gearhead kid and I was a stupid cheerleader and he was kind. He reminds me of you actually. We dated, secretly, and I started to open up and Ricky was so smart and it turned out he was a hunter’s kid.”

“Ricky Norris?” asked Dean.

“How do you…” you trailed off, Dean smiling sadly.

“Ricky was my friend when I was a little kid. It was rare to meet other hunter’s with kids. I didn’t see him much but I knew Ricky. I never heard from him after we were like twelve,” said Dean.

“His dad had stopped hunting. He and Ricky tried to help me. They helped me learn that my parents threats about going back to Alistair were lies, that it was a one time only thing. He taught me how to fight and what a safe home was and I was going to runaway, Ricky and I were during senior year. But he never showed up and I found out he’d been killed by my parents. So I went home and I didn’t think twice about killing my mom. She and my dad hurt the one person who ever loved me so I killed her and I told him next time I saw him I’d get rid of him too. Then I ran and I hunted and I got so low and down and I wanted that feeling of being loved so bad and then bam, you and Sam walk into my life and you suffocated me with it and I love you two more than you’ll ever know.”

“We know. It’s this thing called unconditional love. We know, Y/N and you got it too,” said Dean.

“You know Ricky had to explain that to me? I understood it. I saw it with my friends and their families but feeling it wasn’t something I ever got until I met you. Ricky tried, he did, but I was too scared to feel it the way you’re supposed to,” you said. “And he and his dad wound up dead because of me.”

“Hunters help people, sweetheart. If I know Ricky, me and him would have been fighting over the chance to help you out. Nothing that ever happened was you fault. You were a child. Barely a toddler. You did nothing wrong. Life handed you all the crap at once it seems,” he said.

“I couldn’t even sleep in my room upstairs. It was the pretend room. I was always in that basement,” you said, Dean putting an arm over your shoulders. “There’s so much they did.”

“All those people and things that hurt you are dead and I’m not gonna let anything else hurt you again. Neither is Sammy,” he said.

“I know,” you said, looking at your hands. “We lost a year because I wouldn’t tell you all of this.“

“What’s a year? We got this place, we got forever upstairs. Don’t sweat it. It’s okay,” said Dean. He took one of your hands and held it in his lap. “I love you.”

“I’m sorry I-“

“Stop apologizing. Please,” said Dean. “We’re good. It’s all good.”

You nodded and leaned your head on his shoulder.

“How about we take a little break from hunting, get everyone feeling better,” he said.

“I’d like that,” you said quietly.

“Me too, sweetheart.”

“Guys,” you sighed from the backseat a week later. “Why are we driving to some middle of nowhere town?”

“First off, we live in a middle of nowhere town too. Second, it’s a forty minute drive which is nothing. Third, it’s a surprise,” said Dean.

“I wanted to lay in bed and eat junk food,” you whined.

“We have a feeling you’re gonna like this,” said Sam. You sighed and a few minutes later they pulled up outside of a house. You followed them out of the car, Dean pursing his lips as he walked around Baby.

“So we may have been working a case this week without you knowing,” said Dean. “Yours.”

“Mine?” you asked.

“Your Dad said some stuff after you left that office last week. Tried to bargain us into helping him, before we finished him off,” said Sam.

“He said something that me and Sam looked into. It turns out, he was telling the truth,” said Dean.

“What?” you asked quietly.

“See that house?” asked Dean, pointing behind you. 

“Yeah?”

“That’s your house,” said Sam with a big smile.

“I’m not following,” you said.

“That is your house. That is where your parents and brothers live,” said Dean, a smile spreading across his cheeks.

“I don’t…” you said.

“The people you thought were your parents? They stole you at a park to use you for their demon deal. Your real parents are inside,” said Dean. 

“Real…” you said, both of them nodding.

“They’ve looked for decades. They ain’t half bad either. Your Dad had a blurry picture of you from your first Wendigo hunt. A little more resources and they might have eventually found you on your own,” said Sam.

“Did you talk to them?” you asked, staring at the house.

“A little. They didn’t believe us at first. I sent them a picture of you and that sealed the deal. They’re good people, Y/N. Whatever you want to do next is up to you, that’s their words,” said Dean.

You turned and headed for the front door, the boys hanging back by the car.

You swallowed as you rang the doorbell, your heart jumping into your throat when you heard someone on the other side.

An older man opened it, a cautious look on his face that turned into a long stare.

“Hi,” you said. He quickly stepped outside and hugged you, picking you up. “You’re my dad?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m your dad,” he laughed. “I’m your dad, kiddo.”

“Y/N,” said Dean, sitting on the back porch a few hours later. “Your mom makes like one of my top ten pies. Ever.”

“I’ll have to send you kids home with one,” she said as she sat back down next to you in the swing seat, your Dad on the other side.

“So what about school? You wanted to be a doctor when you were little,” he said.

“No she didn't. You were obsessed with trying to be a princess,” said your mom. Dean nearly choked on his pie as he started to laugh. 

“Watch it Winchester,” you teased. “I uh, I left school and got my GED.”

“Y/N had a rough go of it,” said Dean.

“The people that took you...did they treat you okay?” asked your mom.

You glanced at Dean and took a deep breath.

“I found some people along the way that became my real family,” you said.

“Y/N. You don’t have to tell us. We’re just glad to have you back,” said your dad.

“I’m okay,” you said, smiling at Dean. “I can’t believe you had four boys.”

“Well the twins were a surprise,” said your dad. “Never had a girl though aside from you.”

“I don’t mind,” you said, Dean polishing off another piece and looking at your mom.

“Does he want more?” she whispered.

“It’s Dean. He always wants more pie, mom.”

“Hey,” said Dean that night as you wandered into the guest room at your parents house. “Was today good?”

“Very,” you said. “I’m not giving up hunting but knowing I have this is incredible.”

“You’ve had a rough go of it. Sam and I wanted to give you your family back,” said Dean as he sat down on the bed and got down to his boxers.

“Dean,” you said, crawling behind him and giving him a hug. “You gave me a family a long time ago. It just got bigger today is all.”

“We love you. We wanted you to know you have more than us though,” he said.

“The Winchester’s have always been enough. I’m so incredibly lucky I have you,” you said, kissing his cheek. “You gave me so much, Dean. I’m so happy to have met my parents and brothers but I’m a Winchester. I’m always going to be that.”

“You have choices now,” he said.

“Yeah. I know what I pick. Same thing as always,” you said. He smiled and cupped your cheek, pulling you into a kiss. “Thank you for today and how sweet you’ve been all week. I’ve been pretty awful to you lately and I never took care of you at all.”

“You were cursed and scared. I thought I told you to stop apologizing,” said Dean, brushing his thumb over your face. “I am okay. You can take care of me too but it’s give and take and I’m good with giving right now. You still need to heal. It’s only been a week. So let’s take a few days and get to know your family. Okay?”

“Okay,” you said, Dean swinging his legs up onto the bed and giving you another kiss. “I love you, Dean.”

“I love you too, Y/N. So, so much.”

_______

#spndeanbingo #dean x reader #spn #supernatural #one shot #dean winchester #dean x #dean winchester x reader #spn one shot

[sopxhiea]

Lush

Alfie Solomons X Reader

Summary: Gradually but surely, the wild girl becomes easier to tame by Alfie but all he really wants to do is to set her wrath free and to be the only one who gets to have her.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

"All it did was to turn me on."

“Everyone already thinks that we’re dating.”

Alfie was an unusual man. 

Not because of his status as the big bad boss or the fact that he always had his cane with him lately. It had nothing to do with his reputation or the countless illegal things he’d done, not even remotely related to the fact that he had killed men with his bare hands and would do it again in a heart beat if the occasion called for it. 

And certainly not because he still had you around.

The curtains were drawn, the space was unusually quiet for a weekday. No one dared to make a noise, except for the occasional footsteps and the shuffling. Some of the men were sitting closer to the window and their faces could be made out but you had no idea who was on the other side of the room, not that it mattered.

There would be the usual screaming, it was easy to spot it from miles away and you certainly looked forward to it.

It wasn’t fair, not really but it was never directed at you so you didn’t find it in yourself to care. Alfie would yell at the lads around every now and then, it had already been done earlier in the week but a boss had to do what a boss had to do and Alfie saw that as shouting at middle aged men so they’d do their jobs a little better. 

All it did was to turn you on.

There were things that were hard to explain: how you liked your tea with lots of sugar and why you knew how to stitch a wound back together were only some of them and this just added to the long list of things. It didn’t bother you, just created an uncomfortable itch on your skin that made you want to be as close to the man as possible.

But the gem was still on.

The rules were slightly changed now that he had given you employment and a house. It didn’t put you in the lower part, you still had the upper hand and would never lose that but there were facts to consider and one of them was that Alfie was a man of extreme power who also happened to be a gangster.

It was only sensible to act carefully around the distillery with all the strange men going around. Ollie was with you most of the time when you left the office to go get something, per Alfie’s orders to keep you safe all the time. You still had a blade on your leg and a revolver in your bag but in Alfie’s eyes, those weren’t the most dangerous things about you.

Alfie was a strange man.

He had taken care of the bastard for you, his cold body had been swimming in Thames for a while now. You had thanked him kindly, in proper fashion but he knew there was a catch. This time he got to have that catch.

He still hadn’t asked for his favor.

You had not been into his bed yet, although it had been awfully close once, but he seemed to be determined with something else. You didn’t quite know if it was an ulterior motive of sorts, to get ahead of you in the game and if it was, you’d have to grant his wish since you’d promised him.

Even though you still didn’t know what it was.

You watched the lads exit the room one by one and the screaming started pretty soon after that. Alfie was fuming but the day had been a normal one, although it was hard to tell with him. His moods had been shifting too quickly lately, he was angry one minute and horny the next and you never really knew what was coming.

You stood in front of the door when the screams subdued and you could hear his agitated groans while he walked towards his office. He realized you’d been waiting for him when he spotted you and watched your flushed cheeks offer him a gentle smile. He didn’t return it but it compelled him.

Was something wrong?

You wouldn’t put it that way. After months of toying with the man, you had realized that this was wearing you down, too. The game was fun and you still played it well but touch after touch, little kisses here and there had weakened you. Alfie was already ready to go whenever you’d ask for a kiss which showed his frustration and it only made you respect him more for waiting for your call on it.

But he was becoming very hard to resist.

You took pride in having a thicker coarse of patience when it came to things that made you frustrated in any way but there you were, trying to calm yourself down as he walked towards you. You gulped right before he stepped in front of you, he didn’t say anything at first but just looked at you for a clue as to what was bothering you.

Nothing was wrong, you told yourself in a row for fifteen times. Nothing was. So what if he was becoming too hard to resist? You still got to kiss him as much as you wanted and at first, you’d though that would subdue your need for him but it turned out that it was just the opposite, the more you kissed him, the hungrier you got.

But now was not the time to give in.

He furrowed his eyebrows, arms at his side as he looked down on you. Your cheeks were flushed more than usual, eyes deep with something he’d seen before but he wasn’t so quick to judge. You were deceiving in many ways and who knew what was making you feel this way.

Except that the bastard knew.

“What’s happened, pet?” he spoke, voice soft as opposed to how he had been behaving a minute ago. You gulped, too subtle for him to notice but your cheeks gave you away anyway.

He knew that this turned you on: the power he had, the way men averted his gaze and most of all, the dominance he possessed. He had seen you lick your lips one too many times, voice always breathy when he’d return from shouting at the lads. That was the only time he’d seen you grow almost a bit sloppy, needy for his touch but you had immense self control and he wouldn’t deny that.

You blinked, looking at him through angry eyes. He knew what it did to you and yet, he had the audacity to flaunt it in front of you like this. It was fair, you supposed, you had tortured him a good amount and it equaled things between the two of you.

“Nothing too important.” you spoke, not tearing your eyes away from his lips as he looked down at your small form.

You were a marvel to play with.

“Didn’t scare you with all the fuckin’ shoutin’, now, did I?” he spoke, poking the beast with every little word that came out of his mouth. He was confident, cocky almost and it made you smile.

You were still the one who controlled the ropes.

Who was he to think that he could win?

His hand cupped your chin and titled your head softly so that you were looking directly at him, craning your neck to see the smirk on his face. It would wipe off soon, you knew. You blinked once or twice, far too innocent for him to think that you had an ulterior motive and spoke, voice soft against his face.

“All it did was to turn me on, sir.” you spoke, saying ‘sir’ like it would open the gates of hell for him. 

It took him a minute. 

It was times like these when he came into his senses. Sure, he was a wealthy handsome man but you knew the game like the back of your hand. He felt his pants tighten almost immediately, his body entirely too reactive to any act that came from you at this point. A grunt came out of his throat after a while, one of extreme approval but it was still a work place.

He nodded, blinked and nodded some more as an attempt to calm himself down but you were too impatient. You shot him a knowing smirk and walked inside the office, knowing very well that he’d be watching your every move. He gulped before following you after a minute of just standing in the same position, unable to get himself to move.

You’d be the death of him and he knew.

His grunts and murmurs about ‘not being respected in his own work place’ filled your air as you waited for him to close the door.

-----

“What do you mean exactly?” your voice was angry at this point, no point in hiding the already evident emotion on your face.

The audacity Alfie had still surprised you to this day.

Your arms were crossed as you looked at his sitting form behind the desk, he wasn’t fazed, not in the slightest but simply observing you and it only made you more mad. Your cheeks were flushed, from anger this time and he thought you were simply a vision but your words cut him off again. Like venom from a pretty crystal.

“Are you going to answer or should I repeat myself again?” you said, not beating around the bush in the slightest.

“It’s just a fuckin’ business meeting, pet. Jus’ a bit too far than the usual fuckin’ place.” he spoke, nonchalant about the whole thing.

“Alfie, first off it’s in Birmingham.” you said, trying to level down with him so that whatever that came out of your mouth didn’t mean that he would lash out at someone else later. It wasn’t a pretty sight. “And why do you need me to come?” you spoke, purely out of confusion this time. 

What was he planning?

Sure, you played with fire but gangsters were a different kind of fire you were adamant on keeping away from. You had your dangerous man in front of you and one big gangster was enough, let alone two of them. You knew he had to make appearances here and there but this was out of the game, not something you had ever planned on doing.

“You scared, little bird?” he spoke, not joking in the slightest due to the look of uncertainty on your face. You gulped and nodded before speaking, voice a hushed whisper this time.

“These are not just any men.” you spoke while Alfie got up from his chair and walked from his desk to where you were standing, listening to you as you spoke with a look of adoration somewhere in his eyes. “I don’t want to die because I got stuck in between two gangsters in a pissing contest.” you spoke at last, knowing how these things went at this point.

“Nothing like that, eh?” he spoke, face closer to yours as he looked at your small form. He wasn’t blaming you, this was normal at the sight of something as dangerous.

But he’d protect you, he owed himself that.

You nodded at the words, searching his eyes for any sign of threat or underlying intention, there was nothing. This scary burly man who many feared had turned out to be a giant sweetheart and it scared and surprised you at every single turn. He was supposed to be a ruthless but all he had been to you was gentle.

It confused you to no end.

“What am I in this scenario, then?” you spoke, voice back to normal as you walked around the room with the swift sway of your hips.

The game was on.

“What would ya’ like to be, pet?” he spoke, hand waving through the air around as he looked at you. You shot him a small smile and he crossed his arms while standing in the same position.

“You’re the boss, aren’t you?” you spoke, answering his question with a more cunning one and it only made him chuckle deeply.

Your eyebrows raised slightly at the sound, far too used to the antics the two of you had but you were gradually becoming softer, easier on him and even forgot about the game of push and pull. You’d never lost a round, not yet but he was breaking down your walls, melting them one by one by the sweet torture of kindness.

He was not a regular man.

You’d thought he’d be a tough one to crack, pull a gun on you at some point and definitely offer you a lot of money to get you into bed: these were the things you’d expected from the Camden gangster but all he’d ask for were kisses and for you to be around. He had turned out to be generous, something you hadn’t seen in a while and it made your heart feel some type of way.

“You, yeah, you’ll be my fuckin’ secretary then.” he said, playing it safe but you turned around and spoke, confident as a minx as you looked into his eyes.

“Why not your girl?” you said, a smile on your lips and it took him by surprise.

He had to be careful so that he wouldn’t accidentally wound himself with the sight of you.

“My girl, eh?” he spoke, smiling but it didn’t reach his eyes. He was curious, wanted you to go further with your words.

“Your sweetheart, the woman you sleep with, your little bird..” you elaborated, treating him like the old man he was and it brought a smile to his lips, each little word that left your mouth shot straight through his heart. “...you know?”

Oh, he knew.

He wasn’t daft, or blind in any way. Ever since he had met you, it felt like a storm had hit him right in his heart. It wasn’t fair, he thought, that he was the one to succumb like this but he was willing to, if it meant that you’d be his. He had no intentions of taming you, no, just to know that you belonged to him at the end of each day. He wanted to be your home, the pair arms to hold you. 

And that wasn’t like him.

Wasn’t he a cruel gangster, one that had killed many with just his fists? Why did it matter now that his old heart wanted someone? It had been a very long time since he’d felt the longing for a soul, long before the war. The feeling was still gut wrenching. Too dense for him to swallow. 

“Why would ya’ want that?” he asked, eyes following you and he stopped at your features to watch for any sign of emotion.

Only mischief.

He was the one in the wrong for playing with you in the first place, the one to blame for how deep he was in the mud but he didn’t want to get out. You were siren for him, a calling of sorts and even if it meant that you’d ruin him beyond recognition, he didn’t care. He supposed he had never cared.

“Everyone already thinks we’re dating.” you spoke, amusement dancing in your eyes and it earned a smile from him.

“Yeah?” he asked, but he knew the answer all too well.

You weren’t officially his girl, certainly not behind closed doors but on the street, you wore his name like an armor. You weren’t between the walls of the school anymore and people talked, really talked, around here. For all of Camden knew, you were his girl and it would not take long before you were wed.

Although there were other things said about you, too.

You were not easily tamed, most still saw you around certain clubs each week but the whispers were loud. It didn’t bother you, people liked to talk and that was not something you had control over. But the things you’d heard made you snicker. About how it was the perfect match: you and Alfie. 

The wild girl and the ruthless gangster.

You smiled at him and nodded, almost too gently this time. Your words were audible as you spoke, voice still softer than what he was used to. “I’m sure you’ve heard.”

“Aye, I have.” he said in a heartbeat. He liked the chatter, most gossip was shit and usually untrue but people had so many scenarios of how it had happened that it made him smile.

For some, he had slept with you on your first date and couldn’t get enough. Some others thought that he had proposed on the first date, unable to resist your charm. Word had gotten around your absence in the boarding house which only made people think you were knocked up and about to get married.

“Which one is your favorite?” you said, finding this all too fun with the one person who knew what had actually gone down.

He smiled and watched you relax on the sofa after you sat down, hand tugging at his beard as he spoke.

“I heard one, yeah, I did where you were fuckin’ pregnant.” he spoke, amused at the words that were coming out of his mouth and it made you giggle, all of it. “And apparently we’re gettin’ fuckin’ married next week.” he said and you smiled at the words.

“So what do you say, hm?” you spoke, reminding him of your proposition of posing as his lover.

It was all too tempting.

But he wasn’t sure if he could just act that way, controlling himself around you had been hard enough without you acting like you were his girl. He looked at you for a while, almost measuring something before clearing his throat. You were still sitting on the sofa when he spoke.

“Alright.” he exhaled, a low smile on his lips while you looked at him with wide eyes.

“Alright?” you said, a little taken back by the fact that he’d agreed. Sure, you were the one who had the upper hand and he’d be a fool to say no but he was still the gangster in this equation, the one with the gun and the power.

“Why the fuck not, eh?” he said, more talking to himself than you. You let him go on, rambling on like he usually did while leaning against his desk.

You got up, slow enough for him to get a good look at you and walked towards the man. He really had to do something about the tightness of his pants, he noted while watching you. It was an innocent act from the outside but your eyes told him otherwise. Your voice was breathy, like how it would sound after he kissed you senseless.

“But you have to act the part, sir.” you spoke against his face, he was leaning against desk and almost sitting on it but somehow still taller than you.

You looked right into his eyes, not breaking eye contact as you licked your lips. His eyes followed your tongue, watched the way you wet your lips and it earned a gulp from him. You smiled afterwards, his eyes didn’t leave your lips. His hand found your waist, slowly caressing the soft skin over the silky material of your dress.

“I will.” he said, gently pulling you towards him by the waist. He was about to kiss you but you put your hand on his chest, stopping him.

“It’s just business.” you spoke, reminding him of where he stood in the game.

He was losing, badly so but he didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

It worried you.

The game was only fun if he played with you. So far, he had put up a good fight but he was getting careless about it. He let you win, easy and clean. You wanted the chase, the thrill but Alfie just seemed to want you. There were times he caught you off guard, he was still good at the game but it seemed as though he didn’t care anymore.

And a vision of you with him in the future struck you.

If he let you win this much, he was willing to be around as much as you let him.

“I kno’ that, you minx.” he spoke against your face before stealing a kiss from you. You let him, too distracted by your own thoughts.

Maybe you would sleep with him.

It only seemed fair. 

You took a few steps back, he let you go while keeping his eyes on you. You would tell him, he didn’t seem to be playing the game and it threw you off. You took a breath, looked at him and spoke with certainty.

“I’m going to leave now. Come by at 6 pm sharp.” you spoke, calculating and he knew what it meant.

He had done it, cracked the code.

It was your way of giving him a way in. It wasn’t surrender, the opposite. You held enough power to let him have you but the chase had you tired, frustrated almost and you needed some relief. Your own hands didn’t do the dreams justice and you knew, you just knew, he’d make it worth his own while.

You’d be waiting in your own home, ready for him to get you into bed with all you had. Everything had been a bit too much lately and you thought you deserved a treat, Alfie was the sweetest treat of them all afterwards. You looked at his smile, inviting and happy like a kid as he eyed the clock and prayed for the minutes to pass by faster.

You were not surrendering, you thought yourself.

This was not you losing, just giving him an in.

“If you’re late by a minute, Mr. Solomons, you don’t get to have me.”

He watched you leave with an expression he hadn’t seen before and looked at the clock the entire time while waiting for 6 pm to come around. There was a silly smile on his lips, one that he had not put on since the war.

He had won.

----

Tagging: @clairecrive  @parkbearum @sourirez  @vetseras @mollybegger-blog @babylooneytoonz @peakascum @fuseburner @r-rose08 @innerpaperexpertcloud @caffinated-tree @cathartichaoss  @ihavefandomsssss @thatchickwiththecamera @sugarcoated-lame @alainabooks143 @enrapturedbythemoon @a-southern-doctors-drawl  @houseofdupree @evangelinesolomons​  @kissmyoops a/n: This is taking a different turn but i’m not mad at it :) I’m getting a lil’ bit busy with school but i will keep them coming as fast as I can. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and do let me know what you thought of it!!

Happy Spring, dear ones <3

#alfie #alfie solomons #alfie solomons smut #alfie solomons scenario #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons series #alfie solomons fluff #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x shelby!reader #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons peaky blinders #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders scene #peaky blinders fluff #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fiction #eames tom hardy #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy alfie

[embrassemoi]

Surrounded by the Moon and Stars ✷ 20

Pairings: Sirius B, Remus L, [F]Reader      Content: Language, possible errors  A/N: Some ppl asked for a playlist... so ofc I made one! 

Series Playlist or Chap 20 Playlist

【 Masterlist: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter 】

Chapter 20: Little Lion Man

━━━━━━━━━༻✩༺━━━━━━━━━

When Regulus was younger, his aunt Andromeda and Sirius were obsessed with Muggle stories. Andromeda would send them loads of books every month to the local Muggle post office to prevent their parents from confiscating them. He remembers the ten minute walks there and back, Sirius holding his hand tight, even stopping to buy ice cream during the warmer seasons. They would greet the delivery men and women, picking up a heavy stack of wrapped books before waddling out, each boy mirroring a large grin.

Every night at twilight, when their parents were asleep, Sirius would crawl into his bed and read to Regulus in a hushed voice. He would read a different story every night, lulling him to sleep. Sirius spent hours gushing about the fantastical tales Muggles wrote; how magical and mystical their minds were despite not having an ounce of magical blood. From Superman to Batman, the Joker to Daleks, Prince Caspian to King Miraz; Regulus quickly learned that they all had one common theme: the good guys and the bad guys.

Regulus often spent his time grappling with the notion; what made someone good? Because the definition changes depending on the person.

Were the good guys good because they were selfless — passionate? Those deemed good never let themselves be seen as selfish. The heroes would sacrifice themselves for the greater good, even going as far as giving up their loved ones. Or maybe it was because they went against the odds. But villains did that too.

So he re-worded the question; what made someone bad? Was it their selfishness or greed? Was it putting themselves above others? Did they know they were on the wrong side of history? Make a mistake, once, twice — but surely, that didn’t make someone bad. Did it?

If virtue is understood by both sides, then the bad guys would immediately cross that line time and time again. They lacked wisdom and truthfulness, filled with too much pride and vanity.

But now as he began to grow up far too quickly for a fourteen-year-old boy, he realized that there was more to people than just being good or evil, a saviour or tormentor, light versus darkness.

The definition of good and bad depended on who told the story and Regulus didn’t know who controlled his; him or his parents. The line was so blurred that he couldn’t objectively make the decision himself anymore. Was he more bad than good?

Laughter — rich and inviting beckoned throughout the library, snapping him out of his thoughts again; but it did nothing but chip away at his heart. Regulus got up, shoving his books and parchment into his bag, making sure to hide his face before they saw him. Today, the Marauders had come earlier than expected and he was caught off guard. He’d been doing everything to avoid them out of pure shame.

Before he went to turn, he eyed Sirius from the shadows. He smiled, carefree and happy, clinging onto Pettigrew, ruffling his hair like he once did to him.

What made them so special, so loved and cherished by Sirius? How were they able to make him laugh so effortlessly, able to brighten his day with a mere glance? What made them more of a family than he ever was to him?

But he knew, it was their family’s values and it had been taunting him every waking moment.

It’s not like he didn’t want to escape that night, but he wasn’t Sirius. He was never as bright or strong or as good as him. Sirius was bold and courageous and certainly had more bravery than he would ever have. Regulus was far too weak, a puppet for his parents to control. Sirius was everything Regulus was too afraid to be — a reminder of what he could have turned into.

Besides, there wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that his parents would have killed Kreacher had he left. And this way with Sirius gone, it left Regulus to be the sole heir. Sirius was free, not being hunted down by his parents now that he bore the title. That was his gift to him, freeing Sirius of all the responsibilities, pain and grief. He owed him that much. Besides, Regulus had already mourned the childhood he never had; that made everything easier.

The day Sirius left was the day before they were set to leave for Hogwarts again and the impact of his absence was massive. He no longer heard the thumping of loud Muggle music nor the clanking of piano keys or doors slamming shut. There wasn’t any screaming aside from his parents shrieking at him for taking his father's wand. The stairs creaked; he could even hear Kreacher padding his way to his room.

It was eerily quiet and lifeless in that damned house, and he was only gone for a day.

Regulus hadn’t been taking it well. Nearly every night, his face was pressed into a pillow muffling his sobs. Sirius had kept his promise, he hadn’t talked to him since.

If only he had a scarlet tie…

Ha! He could laugh; he’d been trying to get his attention in little ways. He’d even gone as far as growing out his hair to match his — coping by writing letters every night with words he wished he could’ve said before storing them in a box under his bed. Forever unsent. Hell, Regulus was a coward, every bit as pathetic as Sirius deemed.

Ever the winter break, his parents were relentless, dumping everything that was meant for Sirius onto him. Letters were sent daily; there were talks about an arranged marriage, lumps of money now being transferred under his name, getting the dark mark… and he was being watched. Every interaction he had, his parents always knew. Especially with Muggleborns; he had to limit his interactions with them to almost nothing, or it wouldn’t end well for either.

His mind reeled back to that night, where his parents and extended family toyed with that blonde Muggle, leaving her half-dead on the dining table, the image branded in his head. It made him sick just thinking about it, he never knew what happened to her, he was too busy trying to muffle out her screams.

Regulus had been questioning everything he was taught. Sirius’ words echoed in his head; was he willing to kill Muggleborns solely because of their blood status? He's a believer in old values and traditions: yes, blood should be kept pure, but to kill Muggles… that was completely different. He’d seen how his dearly beloved aunt was burned off the tapestry, threatened and almost killed for marrying a Muggleborn — a Muggleborn who he’s met and liked and respected. His family tortured them for the sake of it and more. That wasn’t the move of someone good, those were the actions of someone evil; filled with greed, spite and selfishness. But how was he going to stop a whole bloodline from their mania?

Some may call it obedience, the way he’s listened to his parents all these years blindly, but to him, it’s respect. But did he believe that? Did they deserve to be respected? He was miserable and this wasn’t a healthy way to show filial piety.

What did he believe in?

Perhaps there wasn’t such a thing, good or evil, maybe there was only power.

Regulus was lost and confused and most of all, lonely. He remembered Sirius promised him once, before the day he was set to leave for Hogwarts for the first time, that he would never be alone. What a funny thing, promises.

Tears were forming fast and if he didn’t leave then, they would fall any second now. He needed to get out of the library.

Regulus asked himself again; what made someone good or bad — or rather, was he good or bad? He’s veering towards bad.

━━━━━━━━━༻✩༺━━━━━━━━━

After catching word from Mary that Remus’ birthday was approaching, Y/N had been knitting him a sweater in her spare time (or trying to). It was sweet, simple and showed that she’d put effort into it, especially since he taught her. Although, the sweater was lopsided and she hadn’t quite gotten the hang of a certain stitch or how to close sections. Perhaps she should use magic.

Her fingers fiddled with the needle, looping the yarn over the other side. Without looking up, she made a sharp turn into the library before crashing into a hunched-over figure; sniffling and a complete mess.

An apology dangled from her lips before recognizing the figure as Regulus. It had been two months since she’d last seen him and in short, he looked like shit. His skin was grey and lost all sense of a youthful dewy glow. If Sirius had dark eye circles or Remus looked tired, Regulus beat them by miles.

Y/N stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do before gently patting his shoulder. “Regulus?” She asked softly, nothing more than a whisper.

There was a flash of pure terror as he looked up, his eyes nervous as his head spun around to look around the place like he always did. He looked mad, almost unhinged as his hands gently pushed her away, signalling for her to leave. “I — I can’t be seen around you.”

“Can’t? What are you going on abo —” She cut herself off, ignoring the matter entirely. He clearly wasn’t in the right mindset.

His voice was strained, quiet as he kept on murmuring, he almost sounded angry. “You can’t — we’ll both get in trouble. Y/N, go — please… ”

At this, Y/N felt her skin rise in small goosebumps. She looked back to the library, just making out her friend’s figures before looking down at Regulus again. She wasn’t going to leave him like this: crying and delusional.

She took a deep inhale before bending down, picking up her needles and yarn off the ground and slipped them into her bag. She placed a cautious arm around Regulus to keep him upright. “Come with me.” But Regulus wouldn’t budge, not until she flicked down her hood, obscuring her face.

She led him up to the astronomy tower, walking and twisting around before setting him down on a nearby bench, making sure to lock any entrances. They sat in silence, aside from Regulus attempting to regulate his breathing. The cold whipping wind tossed his hair and sank into her bones. With a few charms, they were both warm again, but still able to breathe in the crisp air.

He remained quiet. Y/N didn’t push. Instead, she began babbling softly about random things to distract him. When she heard a sharp exhale of air, mimicking a half-hearted chuckle was when she knew he had calmed down.

“Thank you,” he muttered. It’s quiet, barely above a whisper. Regulus’ cheeks were pink, colour finally returning to him from either embarrassment or the cold.

“Any time,” she smiled warmly. Her hand reaches into her bag, fishing out the snacks that were meant for the study group: blackberries that were for Remus, a muffin for Marlene, were now shared between them. She tried to encourage him to eat, to regain any sort of energy.

He listened without complaint, a tense yet thankful air engulfed them. It was only until he finished the food, about an hour gone by, was when he spoke again. “Why are you being so nice to me.” It’s not even a question, just an odd accusation.

She thinks for a while, searching for the best answer. “I wished someone was there for me when I was going through a hard time.”

“But you don’t know me.”

Her eyebrows raised, “Well, let’s get to know each other then. I’ll tell you something about myself and then you can go?”

Regulus looked up at her with a calculated expression, cautious and looked uncomfortable but he nodded.

“Let’s start simple. I have an owl named Celeste.”

He gulped, looking back to the entrance. His answer came delayed, strained and she wondered if she had pushed him too far. “I play the violin.”

Y/N smiled largely. “The violin is beautiful! Hmm… I can’t ride a broomstick to save my life, unlike you.”

At this, he smiles — a real genuine smile that causes his eyes to crinkle and sparkle. “Really?” His eyes burned with curiosity before he looked down, “I can’t swim.”

“Swim?” She repeats, chuckling to herself, “Who doesn’t know how to swim?”

“You’re making me feel grand. Terribly uncalled for.”

Her eyes rolled, “You should learn. It can save your life one day. Who wants to drown?”

“Maybe I’ll ask McGonagall — I heard for tougher punishments she’ll throw you into the black lake.”

“You’re the perfect candidate then.”

After a while, way past curfew, Regulus seemed cheerier; his tear-stained cheeks now replaced with a smile and relaxation. That day, Y/N unaware, was a day Regulus would never forget.

━━━━━━━━━༻✩༺━━━━━━━━━

March 8th, 1976

“Sirius, shut up.”

“You’re the one yelling!”

“... Right.”

Excused from their afternoon classes because their Puffskein was about to hatch, the Marauder’s dorm was bustling with panic and bickering. When Y/N partnered with Sirius for their project, she expected fighting (which happened every day) but not for Sirius to be like this. He’d been running around the dorm, grabbing warm towels, bowls of water and taking out his panic on her. He gripped his textbook, flicking through notes to see if they had everything. It was as if he was preparing for the birth of an actual baby.

She silently watched him, her mind thinking about Regulus rather than their project. This was the only time she and Sirius were alone and wondered if she should mention his freakout the other day but stopped — it didn’t take a genius to know they weren’t on friendly terms.

Since that night, she’d seen Regulus almost daily, but only at night before their study group. She would spend an hour or so with him before the Marauder or girls came barraging in; Regulus left before they appeared. The entire situation left her deeply confused, worried and most of all, suspicious.

“We need Kettleburn —”

Annoyance began nipping at her. “Calm down.”

“I’m not going to calm down!”

Sirius paced, both firing snide jabs. Too preoccupied in his panicked state, he didn’t hear the quiet cracking of the white shell, forming the shape of a lightning bolt before cascading over.

“Um, Black?”

“Let’s not start. How are you so —”

“Get your ass over here now!”

Sirius pressed his lips together immediately and rushed over, both huddled side by side near the roaring fireplace. The shell twitched, cracking more and they both gasped in amazement. The process was faster than either expected as they saw the small tuft of cream fur peek out along with a pair of black eyes. Its long pink tongue slipped out, already looking for its first meal. Y/N scrambled to grab a nearby dish of dried spiders to feed it while Sirius cradled it in his hand. His smile was wide, buzzing with excitement as he observed it. His hands gently glided over the soft fur as it emitted a low humming sound.

A deep chuckle erupts from Sirius and she could feel the vibrations from how close they were. His laugh, which once made her cringe, now made her skin feel fuzzy and heart flutter. But, it wasn’t like that, she thinks. Of course not! She still wants to jinx him, maybe even throw him into the fireplace. Yes, that’s it.

She snaps out of her violent thoughts when she finds Sirius already looking at her, a pretty flush to his skin as he observes her softly. Her brows crinkled; instead of a frown or on the cusp on an insult, he smiles.

“Do you want to hold it?” Y/N nods eagerly. Sirius shifts his body, placing the Puffskein in the palms of her hands. It’s incredibly soft, adorable and when it leans into her, falling asleep, she swore she fell in love.

“What do you want to name it?” She mumbled, afraid that if she were any louder it might wake it up. Sirius takes a long time to ponder and Y/N braces herself for an insult, already thinking of a plethora of her own.

“It looks like porridge… Oatmeal!”

“Are you serious?”

“I’d be worried if I wasn’t.”

Y/N tries to suppress her smile but fails. The Puffskein did look like a grain of oatmeal. Plain and simple, she liked it.

“Hello, Oats! You’re so cute — I could just eat you up!”

“Morbid much.”

Hours went by before they ultimately decided to head down to Kettleburn’s office for an examination of Oats’ health. Sirius cradled it in a small blanket, shielding it from the rest of the world. Marlene and Dorcas were standing by the sidelines, joining them as they walked past.

“Yours hatched already? Aw, it looks so cute!” Dorcas squealed. Her hands reached out, giddy as Sirius gently placed it into her arms but not without fretting. Marlene only looked down at her with a soft gaze, her face becoming pink as she wrapped an arm around her.

“Give it a rest. She’s not going to drop it.”  

“Now you, McKinnon?! I’m a father now! Our kid deserves the best care! Right, L/N?”

It catches her off guard. Sirius trying to include her in a conversation? That’s a new milestone. “Of course; the proudest parents.”

━━━━━━━━━༻✩༺━━━━━━━━━

Once done with Kettleburn, Sirius went to bring Oats back to his dorm, parting as Y/N went to find Lily who took her notes for her afternoon classes.

Out in the courtyard, walking around in the snow, both Lily and Snape wandered around before she picked up a snowball, throwing it at him. Snape sent her a deadpanned look as Lily kept hurling snowballs. Most missed him, others hit him before he retaliated and threw some back.

Y/N halted, watching the scene play out and debated whether or not to approach them. But decided to, shouting while striding up to them.

“Petals!”

Lily’s smile grew before her head whipped to her. She stopped her snowball fight, getting up to bounce her way over to her. Snape followed in suit, but as Lily began to babble on and on about what she missed, Snape’s eyes bore into her, vice versa.

“I’ll see you later, Sevy! We need to go,” said Lily, already turning to walk away. Y/N lingered back a pause, just enough to see Snape draw his wand and shoot a spell at her. She had just enough time to block it. Whatever spell it was, it sparkled like a firecracker. If Snape could easily send a hex or jinx her way inboard daylight with Lily just a little ahead, what was he willing to do had they been alone.

His angel persona around her was dropping quickly.

“Whiskers!” Shouted Lily. Her arms raised in question. “Get over here!”

A flurry of thoughts bombarded her before she could process them. She was about to cause a scene, yell and scream until that nasty sneer fell off his face until she felt a tug on her arm. Lily hooked her arm around Y/N, pulling her away. But she still had her wand drawn, ready to block another spell. She tossed one last look at him; he smiled wickedly.

“Are you okay?”

She had enough tip-toeing around Snape. She remained tranquil, gave him the benefit of the doubt and respected their friendship but that was enough.

“No, I’m not actually,” keeping her tone as soft as possible, trying not to sound defensive, “Why do you waste your time around him?”

Lily paused, her eyes going wide. An offended expression crossed her face as she took a moment to digest the remark. “Sev? What are you getting at?” Her tone was guarded which had Y/N debating whether or not to drop the conversation entirely. A fight with Lily was not on her to-do list.

“I just think you should be careful around him.”

“I can look out for myself,” she grumbled, “Severus has been there for me for years. I know how to separate myself from the wrong sorts.”

“I’m only saying this to look out for —”

“I know, but he isn’t like what you’re thinking.” Lily didn’t look mad, just tired as she nodded sharply. Taking a stack of parchment from her bag, Lily handed it to her and walked faster. “You’re around Potter too much. He isn’t like what he says he is.”

Y/N felt annoyance blossom in her chest at the accusation of James but bit her tongue to avoid more conflict. Right now, they trod on dangerous waters.

Neither spoke to each other for the rest of the day.

#sbtmas #Harry Potter #harry potter series #harry potter fanfiction #HP #HP series #hp marauders #hp angst #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Evans #Severus snape #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #young!sirius black #young!sirius black x reader #young!Remus Lupin x reader #young marauders #Marauders #the marauders #marauders era #harry potter marauders #sirius black x reader #regulus black #reader insert #sirius black x y/n #love triangle #Sirius Black x Remus Lupin x reader #James Potter

[alphabravocharliedelta]

Skyfall | Russell Adler x Bell! Reader [One-shot]

Series: Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War

Word Count: 10,000+

Synopsis: After Solovetsky, Bell is personally recruited by M16 after Park’s personal recommendation. From there, the mission to pursue Perseus never ends. It isn’t until the confrontation at Pines Mall that everything is thrown into disarray, Adler now held captor by Stitch. Unable to cope, Bell takes matters into their own hands.

Content Warning: mature content, gore, adult language, blood, injuries, etc.

Notes: I decided to write this whole piece for Adler’s birthday, especially after seeing the Season Two teaser. I’m not good at romance, so please excuse me. And yes, it was inspired by Adele’s Skyfall. Full italic dialogue is the characters speaking Russian, ‘0000′ means a short time skip. Enjoy! 

[SKYFALL]

.

“What do you mean ‘captured’?”

You look Woods straight in the eye. 

The look you gave him was something he had never seen before, and it scared him. Woods could feel his blood run cold as you waited for an answer. He choked up, pursing his lips in a thin line. God help them all.

"It was Stitch."

Upon hearing that name, you slam a fist down on the table. You like a bomb, just waiting to go off, practically shaking from anger, and it was taking your entire willpower to not blow off. 

"And…" you begin, trying to keep your voice under control. "You just let him?"

"Fuck no. Dear god, no," Woods responds immediately. "They got us. Set up an ambush right in the middle of the damn mall. We fought tooth and nail and barely made it out, yet we were too late to notice him carrying off Adler—"

"Enough."

You glare at him for a bit, before breaking off to sit back down and burrow your face into your hand. Already you were beginning to feel lethargic, your head throbbing continuously in annoyance. 

"Bell–" 

"Don't," you hiss. You didn't want to hear apologies. 

The meeting room eventually cleared out on its own, leaving you to your thoughts. No one had said a word, and Woods respected your wishes, knowing that he would just add fuel to the fire. The team was already banged up and exhausted as is, and he didn't exactly want to be pitted against your aggressive behavior in these times. He was worried about you for sure, but now he was left to wonder what the hell he was supposed to tell Hudson. 

It was hours prior that you just returned from a mission with Park. You were both working on a collaborative assignment with the CIA, in which entailed you to gather intel to cross reference with their database. Adler and his team still hadn't arrived then, so you both waited patiently for some news. Adler was the one commanding the squad, which consisted of Woods, Zenya, and Bulldozer. However, only three of them returned.

You played with the watch around your wrist, thinking back. Adler had given it to you before you left, telling you to give it back to him when you returned. He gave you a kiss on the forehead when no one was looking, bidding you a successful operation. Guilt began to belittle you the longer you thought about it, so you pulled your sleeve back over.

You should have turned down the assignment, and went to the Pines mall with everyone else. If you were there, things would have turned out better. 

A part of you blamed the team for their incompetence, unable to prepare themselves for any type of situation. But in the end, it all came down to unfortunate circumstances that they just had the short end of receiving. It was practically trained in them that the mission came first, and they did successfully prevent the Nova Six explosion. Civilian lives were saved.

With the price of Russell Adler, of course.

You should have known that it was Stitch. Adler mentioned knowing him a while back, but didn't go into detail as to how. They must have had a tight history together if Stitch was willing to abandon the N6 canisters once he got his hands on Adler. You wanted to do something, anything, but there was no information whatsoever about his whereabouts. The only info you had was Woods and the team's account of seeing a chopper take off the only piece of evidence pointing towards Adler. 

You knew the Perseus member way beforehand, even working with him occasionally during your times with the group. The two of you were nothing but fellow colleagues, as you outranked him, but there were a few occasions where you two got along. But, now that you were on different sides, and knowing that everything was pointing towards him, you wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet through his skull. 

Time felt lost as you sat, lost in old memories. It was nearly goddamn twelve a.m. by the time you got up. You nearly toppled over, both your legs asleep after sitting idly for so long. Ignoring the static that ran up your thighs, you run a hand through your hair before giving out a long exhale.

“Bell?”

Looking up, you see Park peeking around the corner. She changed her outfit since you last saw her, this time without all her combat gear. You could detect a faint smell of vanilla from her

“Hey,” you greet wearily. “How long have you been there?”

“Not long. I… wanted to see how you were doing.” She approaches you with a small comforting smile. “You haven’t moved for a couple hours.” 

“I’m fine.”

It's what you had claimed, but your appearance said otherwise. Your hair was out of place, stray hairs poking out everywhere, and your eyes were bloodshot. Throat parched, you haven’t drank or eaten anything since you returned and found out what happened. All your energy was spent wallowing in anger and regret the past few hours. 

“Did… Hudson say anything?” you inquire tiredly. 

Pity flashed across Park’s expression as she tilted her head away from you, her eyes moving to avoid your gaze. “I can’t tell you.”

Your eyes narrow. “Why not?”

“It’s within reason, especially since how close you and Adler are.”

“And you agree?” 

She didn’t say anything. 

While you and Adler tried to keep your relationship under the radar, it was still apparent to everyone else that there was something going on between you two. After all, Park was the one that urged you to shoot your shot after you consulted her about “feeling strange”. No one called you out on it, seeing how you both were basically fit for each other. The invisible connection between you two is what made everything work smoothly on almost every mission. It was as if you already knew what Adler had on his mind, or what he was planning, and you would always take steps to ensure its success. 

So she knew that you were already blaming yourself for not being there for him. Having you on the upcoming rescue mission had the possibility of causing more problems, especially with your psychological tendencies to act before thinking. 

“Why do I even bother?” you scoff. You brush past her, about to head down the hallway, only for her to grab your wrist. You look over your shoulder, sending her an accusing glare as you pull away from her.

“We’re… trying to pinpoint his location,” Park informs you reluctantly. “They marked him off as M.I.A., but given enough time—”

“We don’t have time,” you spat. Before saying anything else, you inhale through your nose, trying to reign in your emotions. Park wasn’t the enemy here. “You don’t know Stitch. I worked with the guy before. He’s ruthless with his enemies, so who knows what he has in store for Adler?” 

“I know. They’re doing their best, just let them handle it. For the time being, just take care of yourself.” 

You didn’t make a sound, and only gave her a curt nod before trailing away. 

As much as you trusted Park and Woods, you couldn’t bring yourself to place hope in their plan. They didn’t know how the Perseus group dealt with people like Adler. You had first hand experience, as you were one of the people that had to do the dirty work early on. The methods they had at their disposal was one wishes to never go through, and you even had some people die on you because of it. Unfortunate, but it was your duty then.

Military personnel going M.I.A. was nothing new in this work field. You knew you were getting worked up about his disappearance, but the thought of his presence not returning to the base made you worry. How could you not? You loved the bastard to death, and would do whatever it takes to get him back, despite everything he did to you.

Coming to a decision, you headed off to the washroom to clean off before doing anything else. 

After all, you had a job to do.

0000

“Woods.”

He perks up, finding Park standing across from him. They both shared the same overworked appearance, dark bluish bags already settled under their eyes. About a week has passed since Adler’s capture, and the entire team had been working endlessly just trying to find any hint that would point towards where he may have been taken to.

Their efforts lacked any results, and they were getting desperate. One of their best CIA agents had been abducted, and the higher ups were already considering that Adler either caved in, or died under Soviet custody. Everyone was just waiting for a sign or slip up, any information that could help them.

“What?” Woods answers.

“I need you to talk to Bell,” Park sighs, before taking a seat across from him. She briefly reads the papers in front of her, before brushing them aside to make room for her elbows. Leaning in close, they talk in hushed voices. “I haven’t seen them leave their room in more than four days now.”

Woods huffs, before tossing a manila folder onto the floor. “Bell’s fine. Leave them alone.”

“Look. The M16 decided they didn’t want to be associated with this last minute, and requested for Bell and I to return.” Park drums her fingers on the table. “That was two days ago, and I still haven’t gotten a hold of them. The head of our department is getting impatient.”

“Not my problem.”

He knew that you could very much handle yourself when it came to things like this. Hell, he himself tried to check up on you a couple of times, but he never found you loitering around the common areas or cafeteria. Though, he did note that the coffee pot would be filled by the time he woke up, with a mug missing from the cabinet. Woods didn't think you were a coffee type of person, but you only continued to prove his assumptions wrong with each passing day he knew you. So, he came to the conclusion that if you were in a stable mind to get caffinated every morning before everyone else woke, then you were finding a way to cope.

And yet the concern in Park's voice told him otherwise. 

"If we don't return by tomorrow, they're going to ban us from working with you guys."

Woods pauses. "They can't do that."

"Well, we don't want to find out now, do we?" Seeing that she got his attention, Park stands back up. "Let's go."

Seeing no other choice, he follows. They both head down a series of hallways. It felt almost like a maze just trying to get around the headquarters, to a point where Woods was starting to wonder if Park even knew where she was heading. 

After going down a flight of stairs, they came across a plain door in the secluded parts of the base. You had always liked your privacy, and the covered hallway window only further proved it. 

Park gives a knock on the metal exterior, letting you know of their presence. "Bell? It's Park. I need you to come out for a bit. We need to talk."

They waited for you to respond, or for the sound of the door unlocking. But after a minute passed, nothing happened.

"Bell, I'm serious."

"Ugh, let me do it," Woods groans, gesturing for her to move aside. He had to admit, he was a bit irritated with you as well, seeing how you didn't do much to contribute to their search.

He tries the door knob, but it was locked. Although, it was a bit finicky and loose from the sounds of it. Seeing no other choice, he reels back before kicking it in.

"Bell!" Woods yells, pushing the door open. "Enough moping ar—"

The sight of your room was something to behold. Could one even call it a room?

"What the fuck?" Woods mutters under his breath.

It felt more like a library, and a messy one at that. There were stacks of books sticking up from the floor, accompanied with sheets of paper throwing all around the place. Manila folders of various sizes and age sat around, open and overfilled with information. The wall farthest from the door was covered with a large world map.

Taking careful steps, the duo both inch their way inside. Upon closer inspection, Park realizes that the papers weren't just random, but were intel. All of it was. Everything from past information relating to Perseus, to even the most recent encryptions the CIA managed to get a hold of. Things that were supposed to be wiped off the record managed to snake their way into the stacks. 

The books were all about cryptography, dating back until the first forms. The basics, the patterns, you name it.

"Bell's fucking insane."

“No, they were always like this."

Ever since you found out about what she and Adler did to you, you became more meticulous. No rock was left unturned, and you refused to make any mistakes in your work. You double checked everything, even referring to other works to make sure nothing was out of place. There were nights where she had to convince you to stop working so you could catch a break, and she felt guilty about it.

Park brushes a lock of her hair away from her face, moving towards the map while trying not to step on anything. She could see your handwriting on the borders of the papers, as well as on the vibrant sticky notes you had slapped on some of them. Stopping in front of the desk, a few white mugs were pushed aside, just teetering on the edge. She then notices that you focused on a particular set of papers, consisting of a few encryptions. 

They were fairly new, first appearing just one day prior. Both the text and your notes were written in Russian, but your handwriting was done in a rushed fashion. You had circled certain parts, drawing arrows between them, and even drew out a legend to help keep track. While seeing you work like this was nothing new to her, she wondered why you wrote in a different language this time, rather than the usual English. You rarely spoke or wrote in your mother tongue. Sometimes you would converse with Adler in Russian, especially if there were other people around, but that was all she could recall.

"Just how the hell did Bell get a hold of any of this?" Woods mutters, throwing a few pieces up in the air. He expected you to just pop up from somewhere, seeing how they invaded your workspace, but you were nowhere to be found. "Damn, even I didn't get to see some of these before."

Park ignores him, and her eyes drift off to the map in front of her. There were a few pins that kept up scraps of paper, although nothing of interest. If there was one thing, it was the bold, black marker you had used to circle a particular location. Next to it were strange symbols, possibly relating to whatever was on the table.

Her eyes widened in realization. "Shit!"

Without wasting another second, she grabs the papers on your desk, gathering up as much as possible in her arms before rushing towards the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Woods asks, grabbing her arm just before she flees. "We have to find—"

"Bell knows where Adler is." 

His grip loosens, and Park frees herself. They stood idly in the hallway as Woods tried to put everything together. "How—"

Park gestures to the map with her chin. "Over there, those are coordinates, I’m betting. And here in my arms are all the notes that ascertain that. I'll bring this over to the cryptography team, while you need to find Bell before they do anything stupid.” 

[FIVE HOURS EARLIER], 8:23 am

"Belikov?"

"Ah, hello, Bell. What can I do for you?"

The door behind you closes on its own, a nice click coming from it. Belikov’s office was small and minimally decorated. He sat at a metal desk that had a large computer on top of it, with wires trailing away from it and into the cool grey wall. A small task board was mounted behind him, with a list of reminders or tasks he needed to get done. 

You approach him, keeping a hand in your pocket. Glancing up slightly, you notice a camera in the corner with its light blinking. From what you can gather, it didn't have a mic equipped with it.

"I need you to do me a small favor,” you announce. “Think of it as repayment for Lubyanka.”

Belikov sets down his pen, sensing that something was out of place. 

You were never really the type of person to ask favors, or help. Not only that, there was a strange underlying tone in your voice that he couldn't help but feel that your request was more of a threat. He had heard you were originally a close associate to Perseus, and his thoughts quickly directed him to the possibility that you might have gone rogue.

"Depends on what the favor is," he responds slowly, reaching his hand slowly under his desk.

"You still remember how to pilot a chopper, no?" 

"...You know I can't do that anymore. That's not what I do here."

As if unsatisfied with his answer, you pull out your hand from your pocket, revealing a pistol and shoot once towards the direction of the camera. The sound of the lens breaking filled the air, and pieces fell to the ground upon impact. Without hesitation, you then turn it towards Belikov, who pushed himself away from the desk.

He looks down at your gun. A silencer was secured tightly to the end of it, and you had a steady finger just resting right next to the trigger. His eyes travel up your arm, before meeting you eye to eye. 

“I don’t think you understand the situation here, comrade,” you chastised in a low voice, and Belikov froze. “I wasn’t asking.”

Unable to do anything else, he put his hands up, keeping an eye on your gun. “And if I don’t?” he dared to ask.

“C'mon, don't be like that," you condemn, waving your hand around for a bit. "We both know why I'm here, so you can either make it easy for both of us, or make it Hell for everyone else."

"It's Adler, isn't it? I heard what happened."

You grind your teeth. 

Surviving on a mere eight hours of sleep collectively for the past week, you were barely keeping awake. You only left your room to either refill your coffee mug, or to go to the bathroom. Having surrounded yourself with practically every source available at your disposal, you could already hear voices whispering in your ear. Whether it was thanks to sleep deprivation or to the side effects of MKUltra, you didn't care.

So, just standing here and talking with Belikov was wasting any precious time and breath.

"Here's what you're going to do," you begin. "You are going to get a helicopter, and take me to where I want. No funny business, no questions. Got it?"

He nods, knowing that he was unable to escape.

Walking out the door, you stuck to him closely. Belikov could feel the silencer prodding him in the side as you went to the hangar together. From there, you let him choose a heli of his choosing.

As he did so, you took a small detour and went behind a large crate. There, you found all the equipment you had hid beforehand, and quickly threw everything on, and grabbed a parachute. The load was a bit heavy, so you had to put some effort into pulling your weight with each step. Prioritizing tactical equipment, your only weapons were a combat knife and the pistol.

"You're going to jump?" Belikov questions in disbelief as you board.

"What did I say?" you retort, and he shut up immediately. 

As Belikov started up the heli, you could hear traffic control attempting to wave you down: "You are not authorized to—". 

You unhooked the microphone from its place, bringing it close to your mouth. “Sergeant Woods approved of this flyby, no need to worry. Goodbye, you little shits.”

It was uncalled for, but you could feel satisfaction from just going off at them. Oh, you couldn’t wait to see the look on Woods face when you returned.

Without waiting for a response, you took it upon yourself to flick the radio off, as well as the GPS tracker. Belikov gave you an alarmed look, unable to comprehend the amount of rules and laws you were breaking, and you returned with a devious smirk, just daring him to speak. 

“Fly.”

And he did.

The helicopter blades started to rotate, gaining speed. You and Belikov cover your ears with headsets, and you watched as the ground below you grew smaller and smaller. A few people were running out to the runway, attempting to prevent you from leaving, but by then they couldn’t do anything but report it back to the officers.

Everything was going to plan.

It was by pure chance that you happened to stumble upon the coded message that led you up to this point. The CIA team had brushed it off, and set it aside to transcribe at a later time. Although difficult, you broke it within a few days. If you did everything correctly, and you validated that you did, then the coordinates you discovered would lead to the tiny island of Nantucket, Massachusetts. There, an old World War II base would be found, out of commission. You had already salvaged through past records for an old layout of the base, and memorized it.

Taking everything into account, from helicopter fuel to radio chatter, Stitch and his party shouldn’t have gone too far. There weren't any records of unidentified or unauthorized aircrafts entering or leaving the East Coast, so it was safe to assume that they didn’t leave the country yet. They were waiting for something, or someone.

The thought of it being a trap did, in fact, cross your mind, but it didn’t bother you. There were other things to prioritize, and your life was second. You were probably deemed mentally insane at this point, seeing the lengths you had already gone through just to trying to get to Adler. But, if the roles were reversed, you knew he would do the same for you.

You weren’t going to fail, nor was Adler dead, so you were going to try your damn hardest for the both of you to return home. Alive.

Taking a moment, you looked over to check on Belikov. He maneuvered the copter without much trouble, although his grip on the handles were a bit tense, and you couldn’t help but feel a little remorseful, knowing that you just put him in a bad spot.

“When we get back,” you say, leaning back in your chair. “Tell them I held you at gunpoint. I don’t want you to lose your job because of me. Say that I was psychotic, or whatever.”

“No need,” he declines. “It’s the least I can do. You did save me back at the KGB after all.”

“Adler was the one who gave you this position in the first place. I don’t want to take away your chance at life because of my decision.”

He hummed. “Well, I trust that you’ll come up with something when the time comes. For now, just rest.”

You take a look at your watch. It was about 9:52 am, which meant that it took you about thirty minutes to get Belikov and board the chopper, and another twenty to get this far out from base.

It was a risky move to just fall asleep, seeing how Belikov could just turn around when you're out and turn you in. But, for someone that was held hostage, Belikov didn’t appear too bothered by it. Truth be told, you did hear stories about him, both from Adler and rumors floating around. His personality was a complete opposite of the things he had committed, and you couldn’t help but be impressed. 

A silence settled between the both of you. Listening to the whir of the blades above you, you take the chance to view the scenery beneath you. To the right, an endless blue. The sunlight made the water twinkle brightly, and you notice a few carrier ships in the distance. As for the left, you could make out the shapes of buildings and immobile cars. Some houses aligned the beaches, little dots scattered around on the shore. 

Massaging your eyes, you could feel yourself easing up as a sense of tranquility fell over you. For an unknown reason, you didn’t feel as troubled as one should in your situation. You crossed the line the moment you set foot into Belikov’s office, knowing that you could be held accountable for any mayhem that would follow. You should be shaking right now, fearing for the worse, or even thinking of possible outcomes if something went awry. But, you couldn't. 

There was only one outcome. 

Panic was unnecessary. If things happen, it'll happen.

And before you knew it, Nantucket came into view.

You slid the door open, holding onto the handles to stable yourself.

"I need you to come back in an hour!" you yell at Belikov over the wind. "The area should be clear by then!"

"An hour?!" he exclaims. "That's not enough—"

He didn't get the chance to finish his sentence, as you already jumped out. He could see your form get smaller and smaller as you pulled your arms to the side to gain speed. "Time..."

The plunge from the air, you had to admit, was a bit frightening. You never had really gone base jumping, or even skydiving, beforehand, so your experience was that of a beginner at best. It's a subject that isn't exactly given at basic military training. And despite your years of experience, this was probably the second time you had to ever jump out of a helicopter. The first time was during your time "Vietnam", when it was shot out of the air and hung up in the tree lines, but that was a different kind of jumping.

You pulled the parachute open when you were just a good distance above the water, and the old base was just a good swim away. Positioning yourself, you pointed your toes downward so you could break the surface tension of the water as you land. Once close enough, you cut the strings.

The salty, cold water immediately sent chills in your bones right as you landed. You could feel everything trying to drag you down, especially the small waves that crashed over you. A part of you just wanted to take everything off to make the load lighter, but you knew that you were going to need it eventually. Gasping for air, you tread for a bit, just trying to catch your breath.

Once you recovered, you took a leisure swim towards land. 

There was a desolate space in front of you once you exited, in which a couple of humvees and a heli carrier sat. Crates were stacked nearby, left out in the open. Seizing the opportunity, you took cover behind them and whipped out a pair of binoculars. You took a quick survey of the perimeters, wondering the best approach. 

There weren't as many people as you thought, counting, at most, five people that were patrolling the area. It was daytime, and the land was pretty vacant. 

Taking a look at the time, it was now 10:32 am. The flight took about two hours, which meant that you had about one hour to retrieve Adler and rendezvous with Belikov before Hudson and the team could catch up with you. You hoped to return before they left. If they were smart, they must have broken into your room by now. 

Returning focus to the objective, Woods had claimed that there were about thirty enemies when it came to the ambush, and a later report came out that eighteen bodies were counted. That meant there should be about twelve loitering around the base, five outside and seven inside.

"Have you counted the boxes already?"

A couple of men began to approach your area, and you instantly pulled yourself inwards and pressed your back against the crate. 

"Yes. Everything is refueled and ready for transport."

"Took long enough."

They stopped right next to you, backs turned. Their uniforms were black, fitted with a matching vest and tundra camouflage patterned pants. You could see the Perseus symbol embroidered on the biceps of their right arm. Stitch certainly had a weird sense of fashion when it came to his underling.

With them distracted, you pounced onto one of them, covering their mouth. You pulled out their firearm from their side, and quickly unloaded the bullets into his partner before he could react. The body fell to the ground with a loud thud, and the man in your chokehold’s screams were brought down to a muffle. 

You then violently snap his neck in return, and his body slumps over in your arms. With two dead bodies already on the list, you drag them behind cover, and strip the latter of his uniform, shove it on and top it off with the vest, switching out any unessential equipment with yours. It felt significantly easier to walk now without wet clothing.

Assuring that everything was in order, you headed inside.

It was eerily quiet, and you could mainly hear the whirring of machines, fans, and steam on the inside. A bit cramped, you noted, the wallways about two persons wide. The place showed little activity of reconstruction, having been untouched and abandoned. Dust collected in every nook and cranny, and there were dark spots and cracks speckled across the floor. The layout seemed true to the map you had remembered, so you traveled in deeper. 

For a bit, it reminded you of the Ukraine mission. You were paired up with Woods, both of you infiltrating the secret Spetsnaz training facility and setting the place ablaze. You even had the balls to press the large red button, stating that "the enemies should come to you instead", much to the inconvenience of Woods.

"Ah comrade, I need your help over here!"

Breaking your train of thought, you muse over if you should engage in the request. 

Ah, what the hell? you think. Maybe you could get them to spill information about Adler.

You trace back your steps to an open door. Inside, a man around the same height as you gestured you to come in. He had a fresh shave, with dark blonde hair gelled back. The top of his uniform was tied around his waist, an old tank top taking its place. By the looks of it, he seemed pretty drained.

"Perfect timing. I need you to help pack these," he requests.

"Ah," you voice. "And you're…?"

"Ivanov."

Walking in, the room was a makeshift armory. Rows of AK47s were aligned in a row on the tabletop, and underneath a crate of a diminishing supply of grenades. Ivanov was the only guy you seen inside thus far. He was filling up magazines, setting them on the table after the pack was finished. 

Seeing that you were going to assist, he hauls a box of bullets out of the ammo container, and sets it down next to you. "We're a bit behind schedule, since Captain Kuzmin got a hold of the American."

You pause, hand hovering over the box, before continuing the motion and grabbing a couple of bullets and loading them into a magazine. "The prisoner, what happened to them?"

"I'm not sure, but I heard they were keeping him in one of the basements," Ivanov answers. 

"Ah, I did not know that." You slide the mag in, making sure it was secure before pulling the top of it back. Seeing how you already knew how to do it, he straightens up, about to return to his station, only to do a double take in your direction. His eyes widened. "Thanks for informing me."

"Motherf—"

You pull the trigger.

Ivanov recoils backwards from the impact, tripping over the containers on the floor. A clean hit, right in between his eyes. 

You let the firearm fall out of your hands, and it clatters onto the floor. Stepping over his body, you made your way back out, but not before tossing a few C4s into the pile of grenades.

Once getting a couple paces away from the armory, you detonated them. 

The walls shook violently, and the overhead lights flickered. Nearby windows shattered from the blast wave, glass falling onto the gloomy floors. A few stray bits flew your direction, grazing your cheek.

Now that they had a distraction, you made your way to the basement. 

The alarms began to sound, covering the metallic rings of the stairs as you rushed down them. There was an announcement over the PA, announcing that there were intruders, and it repeated endlessly. 

On the final flight, a lone Perseus soldier ran their way up the stairs. "Where are you going?!" he exclaimed, trying to shove you back in the other direction. "There's a—"

You cut him off, sinking a knife into his chest. A few specks of blood splattered on your face, and you yank the blade back out. He gurgled, and watched helplessly as you cleaned your knife on the sleeve of your uniform. 

"Give Arash my regards," you growl, stepping over him.

Now on the lowest part of the facility, you began kicking every door open, peering in to see if Adler resided in one of them.

Another of Stitch's companions rounded the corner, this time with rifles in hand. Upon seeing you, they fired in your direction and you duck into one of the rooms.

The glass pane above you shatters as they continue to unload everything. "Fucking idiots," you hiss under your breath.

Unhooking a grenade from your belt, you pulled out the pin and chucked it out the window. It goes off, and the air fills with the screams of two.

One survived the blast, trying to crawl away. You stop them, grabbing them by the collar and flipping them over and holding a gun to their head. 

"Where's Adler?!" you bellow, pressing the barrel against his temple. "Tell me, and you'll live."

He gives out a pained, yet mocking chuckle. "You won't find him—"

You shoot him in the shoulder, and he gives out a yelp. Bringing him closer, you repeat yourself, "I'll ask again. Where. Is. He."

"You're too late," he chokes out, giving you a bloody grin. "The Captain's… He's- He's already heading to eva—"

"Fuck!" 

You let him go, making sure to put a hole in each leg so he can bleed to death. With that, you made a dash towards the stairs, practically flying up it.

While you were busy poking around, Stitch must have already begun to move Adler out. The chopper they used was still there when you parachuted half an hour ago, so that must mean you just missed him.

The panic that you should have felt ages ago began to settle in. Shit shit shit!

Your joints and limbs were aching, just waiting to give out. A part of you just wanted to give up and trip, spending the rest of the time just lying down on the concrete floor. The small possibility that Adler was no longer here made you choke up, and it makes you wonder why you came all this way. Desperation hung over your shoulders, and your throat began to tighten.

You run out to the open sun, the sun rays temporarily blinding you. 

Urgently, you look around for anything that was moving.

Here, you see a dark hooded figure just about a kilometer away, dragging something on the ground, around 300 yards away. Around him were three other soldiers. They were about halfway to the chopper carrier, and if you were to start running now, you wouldn't make—

No, you will. There was no time for doubt.

A humvee was pulled up nearby, and you quickly jumped into it. The keys were still in the ignition, so you cranked it sideways. The vehicle vibrated, a loud buzzing noise started. Switching the stick position, you slammed on the accelerator. It lurched forward, the tires screeching against the pavement.

With one hand on the wheel, you bring out another C4, tossing it into the passenger seat. You took out your grenades, your flashbangs- anything that would cause an explosion, and threw it into the pile.

They couldn't go anywhere if they didn't have the means of doing so.

You sped past the group of people, and taking a look out the window, you saw him. 

Adler was on the ground, unconscious. His glasses were gone, and his clothes were stained in dried blood. You couldn't see his face underneath all the red smeared all over it. And holding him by the back of the collar was Stitch.

A sudden rage overtook you, and you wanted to jerk the wheel to run him over, but you managed to keep a level head, and drove past.

Caught off guard, his underlings began to shoot at your vehicle, but the reinforced plating shielded you as bullets pelted against the side.

The helicopter was right there, and so you did it.

You kick the door open and jump out. The landing was brutal, the wind getting knocked out of you upon impact. You tucked in, but felt your arm give out the moment it touched the ground, and tiny rocks scraped against your skin, tearing it open. The detonator fell out of your hands.

The humvee continued without you, the pedal stuck in place, and crashed into the heli. You forced yourself into a crawl, reaching for the remote. Once you felt something metallic brush against your fingers, you grabbed it and pressed every button available. The car exploded, taking out the chopper with it. Flames burst upward, sending a heat wave within radius. 

You were all stuck on the island.

Now, it was time to deal with Stitch.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

. 

[TWO WEEKS LATER], 10:15pm

"That's it?"

"Yep," you affirm, before taking another shot of vodka.

Instantly, loud groans of disappointment filled the table and you smile smugly at their reactions. 

"You're fucking kidding Bell—"

"Wow, really leaving us hanging."

You laugh as Woods gives you a friendly slap on the back of your head. "You're the most dumbest, deranged person I ever worked with," he declares. 

"I take after you and Mason." You shrug with a smug grin. “Let’s face it though, you’re proud of me.”

“Damn right I am. But seriously, ‘Goodbye, you little shits’? You not only lie, but you disrespect me?”

"Well, would you have preferred me saying 'kiss my ass'?" you retort.

Two weeks have passed since your selfish decision to go after Adler. You managed to do the impossible, and it only took days of sleepless nights, a lot of coffee, and your mind balancing on the edge of insanity for you to pull it off. 

Truth be told, you couldn't remember anything afterwards, as your memory blanked out. 

According to Woods, they arrived shortly after where you ended your story. Somehow, you had managed to take out the other three, and were engaged Stitch in close quarter combat. They landed and took Stitch into custody, although he had left quite a mess in return.

You got stabbed in the abdomen, and got a knife pierced through your hands, and had a few bullet grazings and scrapes. Your shoulder got dislocated from your little dive out of the humvee. As for Adler, he was in better condition than you expected. He was still alive, although Stitch did a number on him.

The asshole decided to do an art project on Adler’s face, tracing over his scar with a fresh, sharp blade and gave him a broken nose. You shivered just thinking back on it. The medical report also indicated that he had a few broken bones mostly in his right arm and hand. There was a single bullet wound in his left leg as well, which you assumed he received from collateral damage around the time you were fighting the three.

They applied first aid there, before transporting you all back home for proper treatment.

Next thing you knew, you woke up in the med bay, three days after. You slept a whole sixty-two hours, catching up on sleep and recovering. Park chewed your ass out the moment you woke up, saying that you were on administrative leave and taken off payroll until a decision could be made on what to do with you.

Now, everyone was gathered in the meeting room, the lights turned down low to set the mood. You had just finished recounting your experience to the crew.

Anything work related was pushed aside, the papers replaced with several cans of beers and glasses of alcohol. Stress was relieved through downing shots, and entertainment was the good old pack of cards and chips, hard cash thrown onto the tabletops. Even Hudson was there, holding a bottle while playing beer pong.

“Bell, I just remembered,” Park perks up suddenly beside you. She reaches into her back pocket, retrieving a folded piece of paper and hands it over. “Look what I found.”

You take it, eyeing her cautiously. “What's this?”

“Blackmail,” she says lightly, and you gave her a stern look. “I’m kidding, but go on.”

Opening it up, it revealed itself to be a photograph. The timestamp showed that it was taken a couple weeks ago. More accurately, the day you went on a solo raid.

It was a picture of you and Adler sitting in the back of the helicopter, probably taken right after it landed back home. Your head was resting on Adler’s shoulder, and his head was leaning against yours. You were both holding hands, which rested on top of his left thigh.

"Aren't you two a bunch of lovebirds?" Park pokes fun at.

“What the fuck?!” you shriek, feeling heat rise up on your cheeks as Park gives you a shit-eating grin. “Helen, what the hell is wrong—”

“Oh, what do we have here?” 

Woods plucks the polaroid right out of your hands. He whistles, seeing its contents. "Wow, wait 'till Mason hears about—"

"If you tell Mason, then I'll tell him about the mannequin," you snarl, snatching it back. You then turn to Park, who nonchalantly takes a sip of her drink. "Really?"

"C'mon Bell. It's not every day you get to see that kind of stuff," she teases.

"Well, let's make this the last time then. I'm burning this."

You take your leave, Baker shouting across the room for you to get another pack of beer, and you give him the bird over the shoulder in response, before taking a turn out the doorway. 

The noise of music and speaking lowered down to the steady hum of the hanging lights as you wandered around for a bit.

You head the opposite direction of the trash room, and eventually find Adler in one of makeshift sleeping quarters. It was just him and one other person, who had just finished redressing his bandages.

He looked pale, his sullen expression exposing his insomniac habits. A large gauze pad was secured tightly with tape over his cheek, and his right arm in a cast. The medic was helping him get his jacket on, but in the end he only put his left arm in the sleeve while letting the rest hang from his shoulders. After determining he didn’t need any more help, the medic left, giving you a weary look of thanks as you moved out of the way.

Adler perks up slightly noticing your presence, giving you a small smile. “If it isn’t Sputnik.”

“Seriously?” you articulate. “That’s my nickname now?”

He ignores your question. “Are you drunk?”

“No. How's the face?"

"Hurts to talk, but I'll live."

Despite your protests, you were, in fact, drunk. You somehow managed to live up to the concept of Russians being able to handle alcohol well, yet Adler notes that you were beginning to slur your words. It was rather intriguing for many to experience the complete 180 in your personality when you get drunk. You would never shut up once someone got you to start talking, and if you had something to say, you did it in the most blunt way possible. A bit of your accent came out as well, a bit of a mix between British and Russian all together.

"You better."

Adler scoffs in amusement, but beckons you to get closer over with his hand. "C'mere."

"You forgive me?" you say hopefully, taking a seat on a swivel chair next to the bed. You both haven't seen each other since the incident, as you were forcibly isolated and interrogated once deemed stable enough. Adler most likely heard what had happened by the time you were released.

"You’re joking, right? Of course I don’t,” he reprimands, giving you a flick in the forehead. 

“What the he—”

“You disobeyed a direct order, threaten someone at gunpoint, steal a heli, raid an abandoned military base on your own, blow it up, then have the audacity to fight Stitch on your own?"

"I literally killed an entire garrison for you, don't you dare lecture me on what I did."

"Is that your way of being romantic? Committing war crimes?"

"Which ones?” you counter. “You gotta be more specific, Russ, my entire existence is a war crime."

He sighs, knowing there's no use arguing with you. It felt like he was talking to a doppelganger of Woods sometimes, so having to deal with two idiots on the team was mentally exhausting. If anything, your efforts balance it out. 

Lying down, he notices the paper in your hand and points his chin at it. "What's that?"

You lazily hold your hand out, letting him take it from you. "Did you know Park took this?"

"No. But you look dashing." Adler pockets it when you aren't looking.

"I look like a serial killer," you whine, leaning back and proceeding to spin.

"That's what you are."

"I don't kill for fun."

Adler stops your chair by sticking his foot out, worried that being dizzy and drunk might somehow cause you to hit your head against the table. “Your body count says otherwise.”

"Oh shit, am I on the top three?"

"If you keep pulling off the shit you do, you'll be first place soon enough."

You give out a boisterous laugh. "At least I beat you at something."

A silence settles between the both of you as your laughter dies out to a chuckle. To think that you were now able to have a casual conversation with Adler without having to worry felt reassuring. Despite his demeanor, he was an easy guy to talk to, but it felt like you would both argue like a married couple at times. 

You began to feel drowsy, feeling the alcohol beginning to slow you down. Wondering what time it was, you remembered something and began to loosen the watch around your wrist. "I forgot to return—"

"Keep it."

"...You're mad at me."

"I'm not. It's yours now."

And so you secured it back around your wrist. While he assured that he wasn't mad at you, you knew that he didn't approve of what you did. It was reckless, and you intentionally put the entire mission in jeopardy because you couldn't be patient. Your lack in trust towards your teammates was called into question, and that day the CIA could have lost three people.

But, they didn't. It was always the negatives that everyone focused on, not the positives. You found where Adler was, outperforming the CIA's "top cryptographers" once again, managed to take out Stitch's unit and hinder his plans. What more could they want?

You scoot closer to Adler, crossing your arms on his bedside and burrowing your head in them. "I'm sorry."

“It’s fine,” he assured.

Avoiding his gaze, you stare at the wall trying to let the thought of Adler's disappointment bother you. Instead, you feel him place a hand on top of your head, and you close your eyes as you feel his fingers run through your hair, shuddering as he moves it in a combing fashion.

"I'm not a dog, you know," you comment tiredly.

"Well you're not stopping me either."

Despite not doing much recently, Adler found himself becoming exhausted more easily. Having two limbs temporarily out of commission certainly made it harder to move around, but it was the lack of movement that made him bored out of his mind. He wanted to get back to work already to make up for lost time, but everyone denied him the pleasure of doing so, saying that he’ll need to recover before anything else. 

With nothing to do other than signing papers, Adler looked forward to seeing you pop in from time to time while you tell him stories about what had happened that day. He had planned to drop by the meeting room for a couple of drinks, but he found himself preoccupied with you instead, your own sleepiness rubbing off of him.

You were about to drift off when you felt Adler’s hand leave and the sound of the lamp turning off. He nudges you awake. Opening your eyes slowly, you found that Adler had pushed himself farther into the bed, holding up the blankets to reveal an open space beside him. 

“Hop in.”

Too tired to decline, you slip under the covers with him, pulling the sheets over your shoulders. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, and you unconsciously moved a bit closer to him, and Adler couldn't help but chuckle to himself as you did.

"Shouldn't we go join the others?" you query.

"Can't. Doctors said no drinking."

"Ah. I hope you well get soon then."

Adler does a double take. "You mean, 'I hope you get well soon'?" he corrects.

"That's what I said."

"God, how many shots did you take?"

You felt usually daring today, the alcohol going to your head. Your hand shoots up to his head. His naturally styled hair became tousled as you played with it between your fingers. It felt soft and lush like you expected. "Enough to get where I'm at now."

“So, we’re speaking Russian now?”

In the darkness, you could make Adler's expression. It was peaceful, the corners of his eyes slightly lifted as his lips were upturned in a barely noticeable, yet tender, smile. His eyes watched you fondly, just taking in your facial features and every little movement they made. It was almost like he was in a trance, and whenever you were around he could just forget everything. The pain would suddenly become a numbing tingle as his heart began to quicken itself each time. 

Love was something he hadn't felt in a long time, and even he had to admit that he was scared of trying to love again. And he could tell you were in a similar situation— not knowing what it felt like to be loved.

"Russian is considered a romantic language, you know," you point out, pulling your hand away.

The feeling Adler got every time he looked at you came with the urge to protect you, wanting to keep you out of harm's way. But in reality, it felt like you were the one protecting him, doing all the dirty work behind the scenes just for the sake of it. Yet, you were unwavering, and it was alarming. 

"Last time I checked, it’s not. You're just saying that cause you like hearing me speak it."

You gave him a meek grin. “Smartass.”

Reflecting on it, Adler didn't know much about you. 

Judging from previous missions, you've become long desensitized to a point where you had no issue dealing with the enemy in the way you had done two weeks ago, and it made him wonder what kind of other shit you went through before having the luck of meeting him. But, to see you act in such an affectionate way was something new, as you played a relentless, yet dependable, soldier on the job.

If there's one thing he did know, it was that he wanted to spend the rest of his days working alongside you. When he, and if he will, retire, Adler knew that he wanted to take you back to his hometown and show you around. Live together as civilians, take you out for dinner, maybe even rent a fancy sports car and speed down the highway near some scenic beach during sunset. It was a cheesy thought, but it was something he looked forward to, and he didn't plan to die until he did.

Lost in thought, he brings his hand up to your chin. 

"I never really did thank you for Nantucket, did I?" he murmurs, switching back to English. Hearing Adler's gravelly voice in such close proximity made you melt.

"No, not really." 

"Close your eyes then."

"Why-"

"Close."

And so you obliged. 

Darkness overtook your vision, and you strained yourself to listen carefully. You heard the sheets ruffling, and Adler moved his hand to cup your cheek, the roughness of his palms ticking your skin. Your heart began to race, and butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you waited for Adler to commit to what he planned.

Getting impatient, you were about to speak up and snap your eyes open but you felt something press against your lips gently.

The kiss was soft and surprisingly chaste. You could detect the wistfulness behind it, and it brought up a mix of emotions. His lips were different from what you had imagined. They were plump and smooth, almost luscious on its own. Rather fitting for a suave man of his nature, yet it gave you an entirely new, exclusive experience.

Eventually, Adler recedes back, pulling away, but you could still a tingling impression left on your slightly parted lips. You failed to form any words, and instead your eyes fluttered back open. 

The look he gave you made you tear up. His eyes were half lidded, and there was a sense of longing behind those ocean blue eyes of his, telling you that he had been waiting to convey his feelings in this way for the longest time. It just made you defenseless, knowing that there was someone like Adler that actually loved the monster that you had made yourself out to be.

You thought back to a couple weeks back, remembering his unconscious form and a strange sense of dread fell upon you. An image flashed in your mind, your blood-stained hands shaking as they hovered over his beaten face. Someone was trying to pull you away from him, shouting at you in indecipherable words.

Adler was fine now, but you couldn't help but sob, the delayed sense of impending doom now finally kicking in after two weeks.

A tear rolled down your cheek, wetting the pillow underneath you, and you immediately tried to wipe your eyes before more followed. 

"Sorry, I-I don't know what's come over me," you stammer, shuddering as you try to catch your breath. “Just give me a moment.”

"You want to talk about it?"

“No, it’s fine,” you try to assure him.

Adler wasn’t having any of it. He couldn’t just lie idly aside and let it pass, especially with you tearing up about it. “Talk to me, Bell.” 

You sniffle, taking a deep breath. "It's just… When Woods informed us that you were missing, I-I got so fucking scared. I worked with Stitch before, and..."

"I'm here now."

"I know, but… Just you, tied up in some chair in some unknown place, him inflicting whatever vengeance he had against you… I was confident that you were alive, but then I thought: what if I never found you? What if I was wrong, and you were never there? The thought of just discovering your body—"

"[Y/N]," Adler cuts you off. "I haven't seen you in two weeks and the last thing I want for you to do is cry. Even more so if it's because of me."

"I—"

"It's in the past now. You did what you thought was best. It was fucking stupid, but it's the reason why we're able to have this conversation today. As much as I hate to admit it, your impulsiveness saved my ass. But, as your superior, and your boyfriend, don’t you dare pull shit like that again, got it?”

“...Okay,” you assent. Adler always had a way with words, although forthright, but it never failed to comfort you.  

He nods in affirmation. “Good.”

You both gaze at each other wordlessly amidst the darkness. The light that seeped under the doors gave you the dim outline of his form, and you could see his chest rising and falling in a steady pace. Adler lied there calmly, listening to you ease yourself down into hiccups. He wanted to embrace you, but his injuries prevented him from doing so, and it pained him.

“...We didn’t do anything for your birthday, did we?” you inquire through receding hiccups. “Or that thing. Valentine’s was it?”

“You and I? No. You weren’t here.” 

A pang of guilt hits you. “Shit… I, uh— Park had to bring me back to the U.K. for a couple days due to… complications.”

Adler hums for a bit, thinking. His birthday was nothing special of sort, but the rest of the crew was eager to celebrate it, especially with his return. They held a drinking session, similar to the one tonight, but he could only sip on water and non-alcoholic juices.

“Tell you what,” he begins a bit eagerly. “Since we’re both on leave, how about we take a trip back to my hometown?”

“Where’s that at?”

“It’s a secret, you’ll find out later.” He could hear you scoff in amusement. “You can stay at my house, where the bed is actually big enough for the both of us. I’ll drive you around, show you the tourist attractions—”

“You can’t drive with your arm like that,” you snicker.

“Fine, you can drive. Just don’t scratch it. Anyways, you’ll drive us around, and we can eat at this nice restaurant that’s close by. I know the owner, so we can get a good deal. There’s a nice view in their outdoor seating area, and their wine is pretty decent.”

“You’re such a sap.”

“Hey!” Adler retorts in offense. “Not everyone’s idea of a romantic getaway is infiltrating an old military base. Let me have this for once.”

“Mhm.”

“Good.” He gives you a peck on the forehead. “But until then, you need to sleep, soldier.”

“Yes, sir.”

You nuzzle yourself into the crook under Adler’s chin, and you could feel his arm curve underneath and wrap around your unbandaged hand. You slowed your breathing down to match Adler’s as he rubbed gentle circles in your palms, and you counted each rotation, just trying to fight off sleep. You wanted to stay awake and cherish the moment, but the distant music from the party persisted, the muffled beats slowly pulling you into a light slumber. 

"Я тебя люблю,” you mumble as you drift off, your fingers losing its grip around his.

"I love you too.”

Adler kisses your forehead once again, before following you into a good night sleep.

#sorry this is long lmao #there's not a lot of romantic plot here i tried my best #russell adler #russell adler x reader #russell adler x bell #cod black ops cold war #cod #black ops cold war #call of duty imagine #bo:cw #text #bell #call of duty x reader #fanfic #call of duty: black ops cold war #me back at is again with my limited vocabulary #abcd briefing

[msawesomehalffinishedfics]

Would you stop bleeding on my couch? Sean Wallace imagine

A/N: I’m sorry, this took me forever to get to writing, mostly because I haven’t gotten around to watching Gangs of London to the end, and I just had exams and have been overwhelmed by life. But I am actually proud of this very finished imagine (Which is ironic for a blog called half-finished-fics, but what can I say? ALSO I kinda played fast and loose with the timeline/storyline. Please request different characters if you'd like, and thank you to @screechingdreamercollectorsblog​ for requesting, and to the anon who was pushing me to write it. I’m slow okay? But worth it? Hopefully? I hope you enjoy, do tell me if you do, or don’t. :) - Em

Sean woke up uncomfortable feeling first the burning pain on his shoulder. Everything came back to him, the ambush, him getting dragged off to a random car. He remembered fading in and out of consciousness, drinking some whiskey to dull the pain. Getting sown together in a dingy bathroom. He opened his eyes and looked around, not remembering where he was, and how long he had been there. He knew his family was probably freaking out. He was a little freaked as well. He looked around the small apartment and did not recognise any of it which made him nervous. He made an attempt to sit up, but groaned in pain as he did so. He heard something from the other room and tried to fumble around for his gun but found nothing. He raised his fists as best he could as the other person walked to the living room. He furrowed his eyebrows when he found a woman standing there, she looked vaguely familiar but not really. She looked at him annoyed which made him keep his guard up.

“Would you relax, so you can stop bleeding on my couch. Which you are replacing by the way.” She said annoyed crossing her arms, he looked at her even more confused feeling weird about being scolded by this woman he did not know. She had saved his life but he knew that was not a guarantee that she was on his side. He was not sure anyone was anymore. 

“Who, the fuck are you?” He spat in his normal demanding voice, if she was going to be rude he could be too, and he needed to know who she was, and where she had put his phone so he could at least tell his family that he was okay. She rolled her eyes at him but walked closer to him, clearly inspecting his wounds while doing so.

“Relax. I worked for your dad, and you. Not usually a nurse, but strange times.” She said sarcastically, he was still unsure about her, but saw no reason for her to lie right away, at least if he could get home to his family soon, he would be sure to pay her off and that would be the end of it. As long as she did not torture him and he did not tell her too much he should be good. Well, more so when he found the motherfucker who had shot him. 

“You ripped your stitches, dickhead.” She said annoyed lifting up his bandage and he hissed a little in pain but looked at her annoyed.

“Well, sorry for sitting up and being defensive, seeing as I woke up somewhere I don’t know without my phone, with a stranger.” He said sarcastically and she scoffed at him which he took a little offence too, no one dared to speak and behave like this around him, yet if she worked for them, she must know who he was and what he was. Meaning she was either bold or just daft, he was betting the ladder. She sighed and got up, reaching her hand out to him.

“Come on. Let’s get you stitched up before you bleed out on my couch.” She said and he looked at her and before she nodded and got down so he could put his arm around her, and she help carry him to the bathroom. She stitched him up in silence after cleaning the wound once again. He recognised the bathroom from the haze and was fed some more whiskey. She started talking again when she was putting the wrapping on it.

“Your phone’s in the kitchen. Took us a little time to crack the code, but I got your mums number and called her, she knows you’re here and alive, for now, told your brother too.” She said calmly now, and he looked at her as she was gently putting the bandage on his wound, if it did not hurt so much he would have thought it would be nice to be treated like this.

“Come on, back on couch, and if you bleed on it one more time. I’m ripping your stitches. K?” She said annoyed he chuckled a little at how she was treating him. He was used to getting respect so it was almost amusing seeing her like that. He laid back down on the couch and groaned a little in pain but did quickly get comfortable. She went to the kitchen for a bit and brought them both back a sandwich which he gladly ate. 

“So, you’ve been out for two days. And yeah, your mother and brother knows you’re here. We’ll move you as soon as they know it’s safe and you can move without ripping up your shoulder.” She said and he nodded taking in the information.

“And then, you’re paying for my new couch.” She said with a confident smirk and he chuckled a little amused at her. She raised her eyebrows and looked him her judgingly.

“I’m sorry, am I amusing you. You’re paying for that couch. I liked that couch.” She said sarcastically maybe even defensively he still could not wipe the smirk off his face, it had been years since someone dared talk to him like that. 

“You are amusing. Because either you don’t know who I am and who you’re insulting. Or you do know, and you’re just daft.” He said and she huffed out a breath annoyed and crossed her arms.

“Oh, I know fully well who you are. Sean Wallace, son of Finn Wallace, ceo of the Wallace coperation, and the London underworld.” She said ending in a sarcastic smile. He raised an eyebrow interested in her response.

“Then you know the last person who disrespected me got beat into a pulp before getting a bullet in his brain.” He said ending with a smirk, she leaned closer to him from her seat across from him, like she was gonna tell him a secret, then she smirked.

“I know. But seeing as you ripped your stitches from sitting up a moment ago, I would love to see you try. Besides, it’s clearly been too long since someone verbally wooped your ass.” She said ending with a sarcastic smirk which was getting on his nerves already. He could not wait till he was well enough to get away from this annoying woman.

“Can you at least tell me who you are?” He asked it being clear now that she did know who he was she just did not care, which was not a good sign. If his own employees were disrespecting him like this, he imagined the other gang leaders were following suit. He wanted so badly to not screw up his fathers legacy, and he already felt like a screw up and then all of this added pressure, he did not need this girl he did not know being annoying with him right now. She just scoffed at him and leaned back.

“Yeah, right. So you can know my name and address? No thanks. You’re probably gonna get me murdered or something.” She said crossing her arms defensively saying it in a matter of factly tone. Sean sighed and decided to be a little open with her.

“Look, unless you try and torture me and infiltrate my life to get information, I can’t really justify using the kind of money it would cost to have someone kill you and clean up afterwards. Okay, luv?” He said earnestly, she looked like she was considering it, but she was still clearly on the defence. But she sighed and uncrossed her arms.

“Promise not to murder me?” She said a little defeated Sean almost chuckled a little at that. Contrary to popular belief and his recent interrogations about his fathers killer, he did not just go around killing people left and right.

“Don’t torture me or sell information about me to the police, and then I promise.” He said calmly and she chuckled a little at how absurd she realised this kind of conversation was. 

“Fine. My names Y/N.” She said sounding a little defeated in giving up this information. Sean smiled a little feeling like he had at least won a little bit of their conversation.

“Well, Y/N, could you get me my phone? I need to get some business in order.” He said and she sighed and nodded before getting up. She walked to the kitchen and back about to hand him the phone before she stopped and he looked at her annoyed both of them knowing fully well he could not just reach for it in his current position.

“For the record, I’m not your servant. So, it’s please, and thank you, got it?” She said annoyed and Sean chuckled a little, he kind of like her. She was definitely bold, and she did not give a shit about how she talked to him. She had spunk. It had been a while since he had met someone who had spunk like that. At least in front of him. He nodded and she gave in and handed him the phone.

“Thank you.” He said a little mockingly as she walked away she flipped him off before entering the kitchen not even turning around. He called his mother to asses the situation. Sadly he was told it would probably be a while since he could be moved to the safehouse and even then it would be risky to move him. No one knew about Y/N, she was after all just a nobody who worked for him who had been at the wrong place at the wrong time. She was pretty safe for the time being. Not that he minded having to spend more time with the woman, she was definitely interesting, in a disrespectful kind of way.

_______________________________________________________________________

“Would you quit your whining?” She said annoyed after Sean groaned for the tenth time that day from shifting from his lying position. She was sat at her desk clearly doing something else, but he could not help that he was in pain and her stupid couch was uncomfortable. So he found himself annoyed and glaring at her. 

“I’m sorry, is my pain from my bullet wound annoying you?” He hissed annoyed at her nagging. He sometimes found her sarcasm a little intriguing, but after three days cooped up in her tiny apartment, they were both getting on each other nerves. She smiled at him a little kindly and he sighed a little relieved hoping to finally get an ounce of sympathy from the woman. 

“Thank you, it is rather annoying.” She said sarcastically and he groaned in annoyance once again, she glared at him annoyed now. 

“You could be a bit more considerate since it was less than a week ago I had a bullet in my shoulder!” He said annoyed and she just sighed and looked at him annoyed.

“Well, you snore, a lot. So I guess we’re both making sacrifices here.” She said and he groaned once again in annoyance at her. There was no winning with her. He had been there for a few days and they had done nothing but bicker. It was seriously frustrating.

“Could you stop being a bitch for two seconds! I’m sorry I groan every now and then, but I have been on this couch for a few days and I am uncomfortable. It might have something to do, with the fact that I have home made stitches in my shoulder!” He yelled at her his anger reaching its peak. He knew it was wrong after he said it call her a bitch, but it was all too much right now.

“Fuck off. I’m doing you a massive favour hiding you here. If you could stop being a prick for two seconds and actually be a little grateful towards the woman who saved bloody life, and is currently regretting that decision!” She said back through her teeth clearly annoyed as well. He huffed in anger and tired to turn away from her she just groaned in anger and left the apartment to get some fresh air. 

_______________________________________________________________________

Billy came by the apartment and smiled at Sean, bringing some clothes for him. He smiled at his brother and chatted with him for a bit. A little annoyed that he was risking his life to get him a clean pair on knickers. But glad to see him, really glad.

“By the way, Y/N, the girl you’re staying with love her. I was by one of the days you were out. She is the best.” He said and Sean looked at his brother confused, what woman had he met? And had she switched places with the one he was cooped up with.

“Who are you talking about? That girl, hates my guts, and does nothing but bitch about me existing in her space. She is getting on my nerves.” He said honestly and Billy just chuckled a little.

“You’ve just forgotten how real people behave around each other when they’re not scared of disrespecting each other and their territory.” He said and Sean rolled his eyes at him, but still smiled a little.

“You’ll get along. You’re probably gonna have to stay here for a good while anyway.” Billy said and Sean looked at him surprised. 

“What? Why?” He said a little worried and Billy was clearly a little taken back by this.

“Relax. I thought mum told you. She is just worried so says it’ll be a few weeks at least before she’s even thinking about moving you to our safehouse. Guess you’re gonna have to get used to Y/N.” He said with a small smile, and Sean sighed at him a little annoyed at this news. He barely wanted to spend another minute let alone weeks with this girl.

_______________________________________________________________________

He got better within the week, and started getting up and walking around a little. He tried to be nicer to the girl since he was stuck with him for a while. He walked into the kitchen when she was cooking one day and smiled a little leaning against the counter.

“It’s good that you’re up and about.” She said casually, but clearly in a natural, which he found a bit frustrating.

“Look, I am trying to be nice here. I know this situation is not ideal, but could we please just try to get the best out of it?” He pleaded a little, he was at the end of his line with being nice and being met with sarcasm. She sighed still having her back turned away from him, but she took a moment before turning to look at him.

“Yeah. Sorry. I really don’t like people in my space, especially bleeding on my couch and bathroom. And even less in longer periods of time. I have lived alone for a long time, I like my space just so, and you’re kinda, disrupting that.” She said honestly not looking him in the eye. He smiled a little, that was perfectly reasonable. Maybe a little too reasonable, but she had so far given him no reason not to trust her. He even saw her get ready for work in the morning and saw the employee badge. It all seemed real. 

“That’s alright. I know I have a bit of a short fuse too, but you are stuck with me. So just tell me what to do. And maybe disrupting your rutine a bit won’t be too bad.” He said smirking a little and she rolled her eyes at him.

“Too far.” She said and he chuckled a little glad he could still push her buttons. She turned back to cooking their dinner.

“By the way, on top of the couch you are also either giving me a raise, or helping pay for food, you eat so much. And stop touching my maltesers!” She said with a small smirk but clearly meaning the last part. He chuckled a little amused and put up his good hand trying to convey innocence.

“Okay, a raise or reimbursement, got it. But I’m not the one who ate your maltesers.” He said trying to convince her. It was him, but he would not admit that. For some reason he found it a bit emasculating that he liked sweets. He was a big strong, badass, gangster and leader of the London underworld. Sweets did not exactly fit his image. He saw that he had clearly failed to convince her, when she snorted.

“Sure. I mean it’s not like there is only two people in this apartment! How are you a mafia boss? You’re a terrible liar.” She said looking at him almost a little baffled at the end. He looked at her a little amused but did take offence to her last comment.

“Shut up. I’m an excellent liar.” He said daring her to tell him otherwise. He knew fully well he could lie like it was nothing. She scoffed again and crossed her arms at him walking a bit closer.

“Riiiight. And what was I exactly supposed to believe right there? We are the only people in this apartment. I know I didn’t take them. Which leaves one other person. What was I supposed to think, that the tooth fairy took them?” She said sarcastically and he chuckled a little and shrugged.

“Well, maybe it’s because it isn’t about something important.” He said and she raised an eyebrow at him clearly getting an idea.

“Okay, try me then? Lie to me.” She said challenging him, he found it a bit intriguing and amusing but took the challenge and stepped a little closer to her.

“It gotta be a little personal, the best lies are. So for example. I would do this.” He said with a smirk, before using his good hand to trace down from her shoulder to her hand before gently grabbing it and lifting it just a bit. He then looked into her eyes at she looked at him a bit shocked but he just smirked, she had asked him to lie to her.

“I think you’re the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. And I really wanna kiss you.” He said slowly and not too high of a volume, but still above a whisper. She looked at him a little stunned but then he pulled back and smirked, a little too proud of himself.

“See? I’m an excellent liar.” He said and she just rolled her eyes at him finally being pulled from her little daze. It was a little intriguing to him that he could make her behave that way.

“Whatever. I could totally tell you were lying.” She said clearly just trying to cover up how weird that had made her feel, he chuckled a little.

“Right.” He said dragging the word out laughing a little at her as looked at him annoyed.

______________________________________________________________________

They did start getting along a lot more. He helped out around the house as best as he could with his shoulder. They seemed to naturally develop their own little rutine around each other. She was still sarcastic and annoying and not taking any of his shit. But it was growing on him a little. He found himself liking that he could annoy her so easily, and she could annoy him so easily. It was like she had direct access to his brains annoyance center. But he liked pushing her buttons, and it was becoming more and more in a joking manner. He was not exactly the type to have friends, but after a week and a half with her, he would not mind calling her that. She was funny and threw popcorn in his face if he disagreed with her or talked during a movie. They had also taken to pushing each other lightly when other was being annoying, of course both being conscious of his still healing shoulder. As time passed and they found themselves more and more at ease in each others company. He almost felt a little awkward having to sit shirtless in front her as she rinsed his wound and put a new bandage on it. It felt almost intimate, which they had not been anywhere near since he had lied to her. It was a lie, or at least back then it was. She was funny, annoying but still, and sweet, and playfull almost. He clearly liked her company, and he liked that she was not afraid of him at all. She was pretty too. He found himself more and more admiring her eyes and smile and the way her hair flowed and especially started noticing when she would walk around the apartment in those tight yogapants on the weekends. He tried to shake all of those thoughts from his head. She tried to stop herself from looking at his shirtless body, it was not like she did not notice, she had needs and she was not blind. But he was also annoying as hell, and a rich prick. But he was also annoyingly sweet sometimes, and funny and he was annoying but there was something weirdly and much to her dismay endearing about how he liked pushing her buttons. As they had spent a lot more time together and learned each others rutines and stuff it was obvious whenever he was annoying now that it was on purpose. And there was something a little thrilling about him, she did not know if it was just her old and she hoped dormant attraction to a little bad boys, or if there was just something about how easily it was for her to get under his skin. It was almost in a sadistic way fun for them to get under each others skin just a little. Besides he was great looking which was hard to avoid with a guy you lived with. His stubbles, his clear blue eyes, his dimples, she had seen him at the office and while there was something about seeing him in his tailored suits his much more casual clothes along with his gold watch was still something she found annoyingly attractive. But she tried to push that thought to the back of her head.

After a month living in her apartment, they were sitting on the couch watch telly when the door opened revealing Sean’s mother, she smiled at Y/N and then Sean. Y/N looked to Sean confused, but he just shrugged signally that he did not know his mother was coming by.

“We found out who tried to shoot you. They’re tied up right now. We can go home love.” Marian said relieved and glad to see her other son unharmed and safe. Sean nodded with a smile, a little excited to go home and sleep in his own bed. 

“That’s good mom. I’ll pack and we can go.” He said and she smiled as he got up to pack she turned towards Y/N who stood up feeling a little out of place now, but Marian just smiled at her kindly.

“I cannot thank you enough for keeping Sean safe. I hope he was not too much trouble. I don’t know how we can ever repay you. But know that you are always welcome in our home if you need anything.” She said taking her hands in hers and looking Y/N in the eyes clearly meaning every word. Marian would do anything to keep her sons safe, and this woman had helped with that. Y/N just smiled and nodded.

“Thank you. No worries. He was a little annoying in the beginning but he has grown on me. Besides, he knows what he owes me.” She said a little amused and the last part a little louder making sure Sean heard it. Sean chuckled as he shook his head at her. She had kept reminding him. He packed the last things before meeting his mother and Y/N in the hall.

“Yeah yeah, couch and a raise, I know.” He said feigning annoyance but smiled fondly at her, she just chuckled and Marian looked between then a little confused but said nothing. 

“Because I don’t want to forget it.” She said a little sarcastically, and he chuckled a little once again.

“Oh, I am not gonna miss that.” He said and she rolled her eyes a little but kept her smile on her face. He smiled at her earnestly now and looked her in the eyes.

“But seriously, thank you, for everything. However reluctantly you did safe my life. So thank you.” He said earnestly, she blushed a little not knowing how to handle him serious all of a sudden, she stood there for a moment clearly happy about how grateful they were not used to being thanked like this. She ended up shoving him lightly out of instinct and just not know how to handle this serious side of him.

“You’re welcome. At least now I can have my maltesers in peace.” She said trying to deflect how weird and awkward and like a school girl with a crush he had just made her feel. He chuckled a little and shook his head, before leaving with his mother.

_______________________________________________________________________

They both got back to their normal lives. He started noticing her now that he could go back to the office and they would smile at each other if they did see each other but never talk. It was like an unspoken agreement, that he had his life and she had hers, even if they had both put it on pause for a little month. He somehow missed her couch a little, when he got back to his own bed, it was somehow too soft and he tossed and turned trying to get comfortable in it again. She in turn found herself thinking something sarcastic and turned to say it to him, but stopped herself when she realised it had been a reflex and he was not there anymore. She texted him a picture of her new couch which he had transferred money for. He sent her a smiley back, but they never took it further. He was back in his life. Trying to run a business and a gang while trying to figure out who killed his father. He had too much on his plate, and he definitely did not need anyone knowing there was any more people he cared the slightest about. She hated to admit it, but she was missing him, her small apartment somehow feeling empty without him there. So when she found his shirt with her laundry she first tossed it to a chair nearby thinking she could return it whenever. But that night when she could not fall asleep, missing even his stupid snores, she grabbed the shirt and found herself calmed a little by the familiar scent. He found a black t-shirt that was too small for him, so he figured it was hers he must have grabbed in his haste to pack. He first thought nothing of it but when he could not sleep at night, he found himself reaching for it, it was so familiar now, and somehow calming. He did miss her, and he knew it was stupid and irrational, but he found himself not being able to concentrate and one night he simply had enough. He did not care that it was the middle of the night he got in his car and drove to her apartment, knocking on her door. She opened it and looked at him confused.

“Sean?” She asked and he smiled a little.

“What are you doing here? It’s one in the morning. I have work tomorrow. For your company.” She said sarcastically and he could not help but smile a little more that. He had missed her voice, and her stupid sarcasm. 

“Honestly? I fucking missed you. I just, I have so much to do, between work for the company and the other side of it, on top of trying to find out who killed my dad. And yet, I missed you. So much.” He said earnestly but honestly just a little frustrated with himself. She smiled a little and leaned against her doorframe.

“And who says I missed your ass?” She said challenging him and he smirked a little at her for doing that right now. But he looked her over and grinned a little.

“Well for one, that looks like one of my shirts.” He said and she looked down having not realised that was the t-shirt she had grabbed to sleep in. She looked back at him embarrassed but he was looking at her so annoyingly proud. He did like that she had clearly missed him too, why else would she wear his shirt to bed. He liked it on her. 

“That proves nothing.” She said crossing her arms in protest refusing like always to let him just win. He stepped forward a little confident, so they stood pretty closely. 

“Right. Remember when you told me to lie to you?” He asked and she looked him in the eyes a little shocked. She had tried not to think about that day. She did, but she tried not to. 

“What about it?” She asked clearly some cracks in her sarcastic demeanour which he was proud of that he could do still.

“It’s not a lie anymore.” He said looking at her earnestly. He meant it and he wanted to see if she felt the slightest same way. Her eyes widened a little she was surprised by this but tried to gather herself again.

“So what are you gonna do about it?” She asked not really knowing how to respond and just said the first thing that came to mind. He smirked and got closer to her.

“Well, if you’ll let me. This.” He said before gently putting his hand on her cheek. They looked into each other eyes trying to read the other. Before he finally saw no objection and leaned down letting his lips meet hers. It was gentle at first but soon they both started pulling each other closer wanting more. She walked backwards slowly and he slammed the door behind her, not pulling away from her. He might have been disoriented when he first woke up on her couch, but that was nothing to how she was currently clouding all of his thoughts, but this time, he was not complaining. 

#Sean wallace #Sean wallace imagine #sean wallace imagines #sean wallace x reader #Sean wallace fanfic #Sean wallace fic #gangs of london #gangs of london fanfic #gangs of london imagine #requested

[animeyanderelover]

May I please have prompt 127 with Grell? Hope that's ok?! Thank you for always answering my requests!

That prompt honestly just suits her so well, I can’t😂.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, clinginess, obsessiveness, kidnapping, blood

Prompt 127: “I would bleed out if you tell me you like the color red.”

"Why exactly do I have to clean always the mess up you make during such missions? How did this even happen?!" Your voice sounded more shrill than usual, slight panic visible in your voice whilst trying to patch up the wound on Grell's shoulder, besmirching yourself with her blood in the process. You were no professional in this, having not the knowledge or experience how to properly sew a wound and you knew that Grell had a higher endurance, meaning she wouldn't die on blood loss. But you had wanted to help nevertheless, having panicked slightly when she had limped through the door, blood smearing her clothes and leaving a path behind you would have to clean later on if you didn't want the whole house to reek of blood.

"It was nothing too much to worry about darling. I just got in a little fight with someone and I let my guard down for a second." You raised your eyebrow slightly. "And with whom exactly did you get into a fight? A human can't have caused this damage on a grim reaper. So that must mean that you fought against another supernatural creature. Question now is which one. Do you want to tell me the reason why as well?"

A grim look crossed Grell's face for a moment, looking upset when recalling the incident that had caused her all the blood loss. "Well?", you asked, giving her a prompting look to encourage her before going back to observing her wound, trying to figure out how you were supposed to patch the wound after having somewhat cleaned it up. "You know, I can deduce this a bit judging from this wound. Were you attacked from a grim reaper's death scythe or something like this?"

"He started it!", Grell quickly defended herself, jerking a bit up in the process and making you nearly hit her in the wrong spot. "Hey! Sit still or else I'll end up sewing the wrong place. I already have troubles finding out how to even patch this!", you snapped, leading her to quickly sitting back in her earlier position.

"Did you get in troubles with William?", you continued questioning her, doing in your head a small simultation on how you would do any moment now finally mend that bleeding deep cut of hers. "No, I didn't! I said that he was the one who started it. He got punished instead of me and was raken his death scythe." You gave her a surprised look, blinking shocked. "...Wait, so this time you really were innocent?!"

"Of course I was! Why do you sound so surprised?", Grell complained, pouting slightly hurt. "Well...How do I say this?", you started, searching for the right words to explain it to her without ending up insulting her. "You're a bit more...quick-tempered and spirited?, you suggested, feeling like those words would come over as more positive.

"So I could have died back then on blood loss and you would have thought it was my fault for even doing so, am I right?", Grell started, sounding suddenly all too dramatic. "I am just being misunderstood in here. I really didn't do this time anything wrong. All I did was trying to talk with him before he suddenly started throwing his death scythe after me. It seems like he had a bad day and wanted me to shut up when all I did was trying to have a polite conversation with him. My feelings were hurt and at the very least you could be a bit more friendly because I might die here."

"Oh, come one! You won't die on this. The worst that might happen is you feeling dizzy and somewhat hazy due to all the blood that you have already lost! But that's all! Don't be such a drama queen! I'll fix you up! I'll try at least...Do you think that you can tolerate the pain?" It was kind of an unnecessary question, she had told you stories where she had been thrown through walls and hadn't looked affected so this was a ridiculous question which you noticed by the 'why are you even asking' look in her eyes. "Forget it. That was a stupid question. Still, sit still or else I'll end up piercing that thing by accident somewhere where we don't want to have it."

Your hands were slightly shaking, you were after all pretty nervous since you had never done it before. But it was either you finally closing the cut or accepting having her bleeding for a whole lot longer until her body would heal itself which you didn't want to wait for because it would only dirty the house even more than already. She would definitely help you later on scrubbing all the blood from the floor.

"You look sexy whilst being so concentrated.", you heard her chirping, her body moving a bit in the process which made you barely prevent yourself from ramming the needle with the threat in your own hand. "Grell?", you asked after calming down from the small shock. "Yes?", she replied. "Shut up whilst I'm flicking you together. I have to concentrate and your job is to sit still. No moving, no speaking, preferably no breathing. Just be like a stone. Do nothing."

"You want me to stop breathing? So mean.", she whined out, but after seeing the look with the silent message 'just do it', she let out a small huff before sucking in one last gasp of her and then completely stopping to move. "See? You can do it ans it isn't like you will die instantly. Let me just hurry up a bit."

You hadn't even gloves on, making all of this a bit gross since your hands were already stained with Grell's blood and the smell and close sight of it wasn't very great to look at either, but you had never been someone who was shaken up easily and life with the grim reaper had definitely hardened you up a lot.

For the biggest part you managed to not show your nervousness, though the slight trembling of your hands and your bloody and sweaty palms might have given it away that you had no idea what you were doing, the only knowledge you did possess was having read books about how to do it and having watched someone doing it once before, though it hadn't been on a human. But it was better than walking in on this completely blindly and whilst it ended up being a bit inexpertly, you still felt proud because for a starter it was still pretty good, but that was of course only your opinion.

You let out a small sigh, wanting to wipe your forehead before stopping abruptly, remembering just what exactly you had sticking on your whole body. You would have to take a thoroughly shower afterwards.

"Can I breathe again?", you suddenly heard Grell asking with a pressed voice, reminding you that she had hold her breath for the last four minutes, probably even longer. Respect, you didn't know if you could do that in such a situation. "Oh yes. Feel free to do what you want."

She gasped loudly, grabbing your shoulders in the process and just breathing a few times deeply in and out before straightening up and bending her head in an attempt to take a look at the freshly stitched wound. "Does it look daft?", she asked you.

"What the...? Grell, it isn't supposed to look like a work of art, not when I did it. It's just to stop the bleeding.", you quickly scolded her, tidying up all the tools and the many soaked towels and tissues you had used to clean all the blood from her wound. "And I'm sure you wouldn't want that to happen, right? Bleeding out in this house. But it seems like in the end everything went fine, the blood loss doesn't seem to have had an affect on you.", you added, feeling actually a bit relieved that she hadn't experienced any sort of dizzyness or shock from all of this.

You glaned with a heavy sigh down on yourself, examining just how terrible you really looked, blood smeared all over your face, your arms, clothes and even the tip of your hairs hadn't been spared. Someone would need to spend the next few hours in the bathroom to scrub and clean themselves thoroughly and severly up, you didn't plan on reeking like a wandering bloob bag.

"I look pretty bad.", you mumbled out, shaking your hands a bit in hopes of getting some of the still liquid blood off, though you knew you should hurry before it would start to dry. "I think you look gorgeous, covered in all my blood like this. Red suits you."

You stiffened up when hearing her saying this, although you weren't surprised hearing something like this coming from her. "Do you have to say this after I just patched you up? It makes it sound like you would have actually wanted to continuously lose blood just so I could be covered in your blood. And you wouldn't do that...right?" Why had you to ask this? She would surely not be that risky with her love for you, would she?

Grell put her fingertips on her chest, with the other gesturing at you. (y/n), I would bleed out if you tell me you like the color red."

...You shouldn't have asked this. For a few seconds you were quiet, thinking about how to give an answer to that question before just humming, deciding to leave this without any comment that could lead to her saying more stuff like this. You were for a short moment thinking if she had perhaps after all gotten a bit confused after losing that much of her blood, but with her it was hard to tell. You were sure she would be fine either way, making up your mind to just finally take a bath with a lot of soap.

"Are you taking a bath now?", Grell queried when seeing you walking towards the bathroom. "Obviously.", you replied, slowly gesturing at your currently eerie-looking figure, dry and still fresh blood mixing everywhere on your body. You were sure if you would walk like this at night through the forest and would cross paths with someone, they would run away crying and screaming. You looked like you had just murdered someone.

"Great! Can I come with you?"

"...Let me think. No."

"Why not? I could help you with cleaning you up from all the blood."

"I surely won't let you see me naked Grell! And you need to go easy on yourself now, especially with that freshly sewed shoulder of yours!"

"...I can use my other arm to scrub you up."

"Grell! No means no!"

"Fine then. I just wanted to help you. You could sometimes be a bit more polite with me."

"I politely decline.", you told her before finally disappearing, locking out of caution the door. You didn't know how effective a 'no' would be with her. You knew her overzealousness too well.

#yandere black butler #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere grell #yandere grell sutcliff

[ficforce]

Asakusa Crush Part 2

Shinmon Benimaru x Reader SFW / NSFW No set timeline New relationship

Y/N had to hide a giggle behind her hand as she brought more sake over to the table, she had heard that Benimaru had been lured into drinking tonight and was pleased it was in her grandfather’s bar. A few people from the market, a couple of Company 7 and Benimaru sat around the table, a serious game of Cho-Han going on with a large wager. She knelt down at a space on the table and collected up the empty bottles before putting out full ones, she looked at Benimaru’s face again and held in her laughter - he was smiling so cutely. Apparently, it was something that happened when he drank, it was something he had no control of and it changed his usually sullen face completely.

“He’ll get grumpy if you laugh at him, Y/N,” she hadn’t realised that Konro was to her left, he was drinking quietly in comparison to the others, seemingly there to watch people lose their money rather than his own.

“It’s not like he can do anything but smile right now.” Y/N liked the Lieutenant, she had heard he used to be a real terror in his teenage years but had mellowed out to become a protector of Asakusa, even risking his life for it. She swapped out his usual Sake for a premium bottle and put her finger to her lips with a mischievous grin, “Snitches get stitches.”

With that, she went about serving the other tables and cleaning up between, it was nice when it was busy but she was going to be so tired in the morning when she had to get up for restocking. It had to be done in the morning and she had foolishly offered thinking it would be an afternoon job. A loud cheer from the corner made her look back to Benimaru’s table, the man was losing and all he could do was grin about it. “If only you were that cute all the time…” Every time they crossed paths it ended in a challenge, people said they were flirting and Benimaru would get quiet and stalk off. She just liked to pick on him, there was nothing like winding a man up to see what they were really like. He kept his cool most of the time but he wasn’t going to back down and surrender for a second.

Only the strongest could run Asakusa and he wasn’t about to let her knock him down a peg or two in public.

Benimaru wasn’t completely oblivious to Y/N serving, between games and drinking he kept an eye on her, she was a pretty good hostess. No one was left waiting too long, she kept the other servers in check and was doing a pretty good job at avoiding drunken, wandering hands. He was struck again by how at home she was despite being an Empire girl. The twins had given him their low down of her - despite him saying he didn’t care - they said she made tasty food, that she wasn’t a follower of the Sun God and that she thought that the Empire couldn’t care less about people they couldn’t profit from. The girls kept going on about her ignition ability being cool and that she hated mornings.

Every time he saw her before noon she would look completely different from the tidy, cheerful woman with an attitude. She walked around like an old school Yakuza brat. Y/N would leave her hair loose, she would wear a flowery yukata that was thrown on and too open at the front, she seemed to always be wrapped in bandages from her chest to at least her waist - the yukata was always done up properly from the belt down. Y/N walked around like a zombie and was pretty moody if she was still sleepy. He kind of liked that.

At closing time she politely but very firmly kicked everyone out, Benimaru felt like refusing just to see what would happen but Konro practically dragged him out before he could do more than just think about it. He did hear that she had to be up early in the morning and his grin was a little too big at that.

—

“Waka, you’re up early.” Benimaru nodded and pulled on his boots as his Lieutenant gave him an exasperated stare, “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

Konro gave him a jab in the side with his foot, “Some people buy a woman flowers or invite her to festivals - not try and start a brawl with her.” It was like dealing with kids, they were both eager to punch the other rather than just hold hands as a normal person would. “It’s obvious you like her, why you gotta be such a brat, Waka?”

“I can’t have some outsider challenging me the way she does.” He wanted to know how strong she was, he didn’t want to like someone who was all bark and he wanted someone who could look after themselves if things went to shit with the White Clads. “I won’t hurt her too bad.”

He figured she’d be on the edge of town to make a restock order, it was easier to tell one of the guys what was needed and have them deliver later. Sure enough, he spotted her sleep-deprived face through the crowd of vendors and stockists. Somehow, Benimaru still found her pretty that way, he remembered how she punched that guy’s lights out with no effort what so ever and even then she was still sweet to Hinata and Hikage. He watched her turn around and begin walking toward him, unaware that he was in her way until she was right in front of him. Y/N’s eyes travelled up from his collar bone to his face and she sighed, her hand coming up to rub at her eye, “I’m too tired for this, what do you want?”

“Fight me.” She snorted at him and laughed, moving to pass him and get back home for a quick nap. Benimaru reached out and caught her upper arm, “I’m serious. You keep pulling my hair and I’m gonna react.”

It was a metaphor she was tempted to act on, yanking his hair and punching him in the face was looking rather appetising.

“I’m not challenging your authority or whatever, I’m just asking you to have some damn manners, you bump into someone you should just apologise. Why are you always so fired up when you see me? Just go cool your head and get out of the way!” Y/N didn’t care who he was or how strong he was - she deserved some respect too. She watched him cross his arms and then he had the audacity to smirk at her, Y/N’s eyes lit up and she acted without thinking. Her fist flew forward and Benimaru caught it easily, already prepared for her counter but not her foot connecting to the side of his calf.

Why did she have to like this conceited man child?

Why did her heart flutter in her chest and he body heat up whenever she saw him?

Love, at first sight, was a gross cliche and she refused to be a victim of it. She liked Benimaru but she wasn’t going to swoon at his feet like every other girl in Asakusa.

People got out of the way as they got physical, Benimaru taking advantage of her lack of basic fighting to push her toward the centre of the street. He had to admit her defence was good, he Aikido helping her just keep up with him and give her openings to hit him square in the ribs and then get a little distance between them. The man pushed off his sleeve and took up his stance again, watching her carefully in an attempt to figure out her next move - she really was just trying not to get hit and it made her unpredictable. If she found a decent teacher he figured Y/N could be a pretty good fighter.

Y/N watched him too and she realised that his style usually involved a sword or two, Iaido. She searched her memory for whether she had ever seen him with a weapon and came up blank. He had seen her moment of lost concentration and advance with an elegant swipe of his arm, his index and middle finger concentrating his flames into something similar to a sword.

So that was his style… She was so fucked.

Though that wasn’t going to get her to back down.

He sliced through her sleeve and Y/N took the chance to counter with fire. Benimaru didn’t know where the explosive little fireball had come from, he thought maybe from her sleeve, but he staggered back as it blew up in his face. The ball reformed itself and he just managed to bat it away and into a nearby wall. He waited for another, watching Y/N get ready for her next move, her hands coming up as if to form a new attack and when he took a defensive stance she took the opportunity to run in the opposite directing and into an alley. “What the… Oi!” Benimaru gave chase immediately.

He ignited baskets and debris around him and launched them into the alley after her, there was a plume of orange and red as they struck something and then it was quiet. Benimaru frowned and walked toward the mouth of the alleyway, concerned that he might have gone too far and hurt her, she was a fire user, right? That meant she had some defence against the flames and he hadn’t made his particularly hot this time. The hair on the back of his neck prickled and stood up all of a sudden, his senses told him something was coming and as he stood between the two houses he was startled backwards by what he had first thought to be a fireball. It flew past him, elongated and as he looked he could almost think that the yellows, reds and oranges looked like scales.

Benimaru flipped back onto his feet, barely dodging as the head of the fire aimed at him, “That’s…” Red eyes widened as he saw the full effect of her ability, twenty feet of serpentine-like flames rose above him, Y/N came out of the alley, her yukata singed and smoking as she moved her hands. Each subtle movement formed the flames into a stronger shape until it resembled a serpentine dragon. It dived down at him and he avoided the hottest part, it was like it wanted to swallow him whole, it’s mouth was blue and he figured it was best to keep away from that. He felt his heart hammering against his chest and it was more than the excitement of a good fight, she was sloppy and untrained and her ignition was visually impressive and right now she was angry at him and looked like she would happily let the dragon devour him.

The tail of her attack took out a stall to the side, her control wasn’t as tight as it could be and he saw potential ways to fix it. The Captain ignited a ring of flame and in three quick steps, he extinguished her attack, standing ready for another. “You’ll have to do better than that, send a bigger one!”

Y/N glared at him and waited for him to set something else on fire.

They both stood ready, seconds and then minutes passing by until he figured it out and relaxed his body, “You can’t make your own flames. Second generation, huh?” He pulled his sleeve back onto his arm and gave a satisfied nod to himself, “You’re pretty good, Y/N.”

“That’s it?” She yelled after him angrily, “You…” Was he teasing her? Was he just going to go about his day like nothing had happened?

“That’s it,” Benimaru raised his hand and waved as he headed back toward the guardhouse.

—

Konro swept the entrance of the guardhouse quietly, Benimaru had headed for his room for a nap as soon as he had gotten in half an hour ago and the twins had run off to terrorise some of the new recruits. He looked up as Y/N stepped into the guardhouse, “Hey Lieutenant Konro, can I borrow that candle?”

“Y/N?” He looked her up and down, she was panting as if she had been running and her clothing had burns on it, “Uh…Sure.” He picked the candle up and she stole the flame from it, making it grow into the size of a tennis ball and then walked past calling for Benimaru.

Benimaru opened the shoji door with an annoyed grumble at being disturbed, the words were barely out of his mouth before she launched the fireball at his face and shoved him back inside.

The Lieutenant snorted to himself and shook his head - Maybe he should go out after all.

#shinmon benimaru #reader #fire force #enen no shouboutai

[dimigex]

Innocence - KakaSaku

A03, FF

Continuing my 'let's stop obsessively worrying about being perfect and get some things posted' trend.

Kakashi pulled backward, breath hitching in his throat as he fought to maintain control over himself. The room spun and he pressed his elbows into the couch, lifting his body several inches from the warmth of Sakura's. Her lower lip slid into a kissable pout that required nearly all of Kakashi's composure to resist. He brushed a hand over her flushed cheek and traced the soft curve of her lower lip with his thumb. Meeting Kakashi's eyes, Sakura curled her lips around the finger, trailed her breathy kiss down to his open palm, then settled against his wrist.

"Stop," Kakashi groaned, sitting back on his knees with palms resting flat on his thighs.

Sakura pulled her elbows behind her, shifting into a reclining position that made Kakashi uncomfortably aware of her curves. This was a terrible decision, probably the worst one that he'd made since agreeing to become Hokage. Maybe worse than that. Uncertainty arched through his chest, warring with the desire and the thoughts that he dare not put into words, even in the safety of his mind.

A soft hand touched Kakashi's cheek, followed his cheek bone, curled around his ear, then hooked behind his neck. Sakura pulled him closer, moving forward until their chests touched. He could feel the expansion of her lungs. Without giving him the opportunity to pull away, she brushed her lips against his exposed ones. Sakura murmured Kakashi's name close enough to taste it, and he shuddered, heart leaping frantically with the desire that Sakura always sparked inside of him.

"What is it?" Sakura half-disguised the frustration in her voice, as she placed a hand on Kakashi's chest. His flak vest lay on the floor beside the couch, and the man was acutely aware that only the thin navy fabric of his shirt stood between her touch and his skin. He didn't even have mesh under armour to protect him.

Sakura's hand fisted in his shirt, and annoyance leaking into her expression. "We've been together nearly eight months, and I've known you nearly half of my life." When Kakashi frowned, she realized the poor wording and waved it off. "Okay, that wasn't the best way to phrase it. I just meant that I've known you a long time."

Kakashi's cheeks burned crimson as Sakura combed through his hair with one hand. She kissed him again, lingering on his lips then sighing softly. "I'm sure Kakashi." Her smile made his heart skip a beat, and her voice turned sultry when she kissed his neck. "I want you."

Without Kakashi's permission, his hands closed around Sakura's lower back and pulled her close. She had no problem putting words to her thoughts on their relationship, or her desire to move it to another level. Sakura's lips slid over Kakashi's neck, drawing chill bumps in their wake as she tugged the collar of his shirt aside. Warm kisses followed along the top of his shoulder. When Kakashi didn't stop her, Sakura slid her hands beneath his shirt. Cool fingers caressed muscles as she inched it higher.

It's not that different from swimming together, we've done that before, some part of Kakashi's mind tried to rationalize. There was even that one hot spring, shared between men and women. Not that he'd stayed once Sakura joined him, but she laughed and let him go. That had been after the war, before he'd become Hokage. They'd been in-

The image shattered when Sakura kissed Kakashi's chest, fingers brushing his stomach. The skin contracted away from the touch, but Kakashi couldn't bite back the moan that rose in his throat. Sakura pushed the shirt higher until he had to choose between helping her, or putting an end to things before they went too far. She tugged the garment again, and Kakashi raised his arms.

Sakura had seen Kakashi shirtless before; she worked in the hospital, after all. So, he was surprised by her reaction. Her hands explored the ridges of hardened muscle, tracing the dips and curves of his abs tentatively at first, then with growing confidence as he groaned and trembled with every brush of her fingers.

A civilian might have found the scars that crisscrossed Kakashi's skin unattractive, but as a fellow shinobi, he knew that Sakura respected the stories they told. She pressed a kiss to the top of a long, pale line that ran from almost his shoulder to his stomach on the other side. Another matching scar ran in the opposite direction, making a perfect x on Kakashi's chest, a gift from Obito during the war. Kakashi had stitched it himself before rejoining the fighting.

Sakura followed the path of the old injury between the musclest, over Kakashi's abs and toward his stomach. She had to shift positions to reach lower. Sliding her legs from beneath him, Sakura nudged Kakashi backward on the couch. Their knees touched as she brushed the scar a second time then let her hand slide through the patch of soft, silver hair below his belly button. She paused there, raising her eyes.

Kami, she's gorgeous, Kakashi thought as he met the green gaze that had stolen his heart years ago. They'd been together eight months, yes, but Kakashi had fallen for Sakura long before that. He knew that she was sure, knew that she wanted him, but he didn't know if he could do this. Sakura settled between his legs, moving back to his lips with slow, careful kisses.

Sakura joined their mouths again, and Kakashi met her desire. When they broke apart for air, she pressed her hips toward his. Kakashi bit back a moan, knowing she could feel the effect that she'd had on him. He slid his hands over her cheek, tilting her face up. "This isn't something to rush into."

"We aren't rushing," Sakura argued, kissing along his jaw. Kakashi groaned, wondering when she'd gotten so good at destroying his defenses. He could still recall their first, tentative kisses when she wasn't sure what to do. Those were a thing of the past now. Sakura knew what she wanted, had known for months, and continued to encourage Kakashi's surrender.

"I need you to be sure about this," Kakashi slid his hands through her captivating pink hair, ignoring the way Sakura's lips pursed in annoyance. "There's so many reasons we should take this slow."

When Sakura pulled back, Kakashi felt his heart clench. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was hurt her, but he could see the pain in her eyes. "I love you, Kakashi." She tucked her hair behind one ear, then sighed. "I want to be with you. I want more than this, but I can't make you want it too."

Hurt filled Sakura's voice as she stood from the couch and turned away. Fear laced Kakashi's chest as she walked toward the door. Every logical instinct told him to let her go. They were too complicated; they would always be ostracized for their age difference. He couldn't give her the kind of life she deserved. She needed someone her own age, someone full of life and hope, not haunted by the specters of his failures. Kakashi couldn't offer Sakura any of the things she deserved.

Kakashi stood and caught Sakura's wrist as she reached for her sandals. He pulled her around. "I love you too," he choked around the lump in his throat, forcing the logical arguments away. Before she could answer, before she could ask him to say anything else, Kakashi sealed their lips together.

The pair stumbled backward into the wall; Sakura's shoulders bumping into it and she dragged Kakashi closer. He didn't fight her grip, kissing Sakura with abandon to banish every ounce of empty space between them. Kakashi's fingers raced down her sides, marveling at the combination of muscle and softness in Sakura's curves. His grip traced around her back and slid lower, cupping her ass. The moan that it drew from Sakura's lips was intoxicating, as was the way Sakura allowed him to lift her. Strong legs wrapped around Kakashi's waist, and it was all he could do to move slowly.

Kakashi had given himself over to their kisses before, surrendered to the blatant desire of her touch, but this was something new. "I want you," Sakura mumbled as Kakashi lowered his lips to her neck. His hands ached to explore beneath her shirt, still uncharted territory, but they were occupied with supporting her weight. Kakashi nipped at her ear, drawing out another sound of desire. It was enough for him to abandon reason.

"Hold on," Kakashi whispered against Sakura's neck before pulling away from the wall. Her hands closed on his shoulders, and her legs tightened until her hips pressed against his when he took a step. Groaning, Kakashi carried Sakura toward his bedroom.

Sakura tightened her grip on Kakashi's hair, tilting his head back to kiss him more deeply. He stumbled, pushing the door open with one hand. Kakashi pressed one hand to Sakura's shoulders and anchored the other against her lower back, laying her gently on his bed. Before he could pull back, Sakura's hand and thighs tightened to draw Kakashi onto the mattress after her.

Kneeling above Sakura, Kakashi ran his hand down her side again. This time, however, he slid one beneath her shirt to caress the warm skin. She moaned his name, and Kakashi dipped down to kiss just above Sakura's belly button and followed the garment upward over the gentle rise and fall of her abs. She arched, trying to speed the movement, but Kakashi's weight prevented it.

As the shirt slid to Sakura's shoulders, Kakashi's heart stuttered to a halt. He rocked back to his knees, gazing down the expanse of bare skin with a blush heating his cheeks. She grinned, but Kakashi could tell that she was self conscious. Some small part of his mind wanted to chide Sakura for not wearing anything beneath her shirt; another wanted to take full advantage of the opportunity. He traced along the outside of her breasts. "Planning this?"

"Well, it wasn't like we were doing anything physical tonight." A devilish grin crossed Sakura's beautiful features before she glanced up through her eyelashes. "And, if we were, wrapping them would have only gotten in your way."

The words sent a flood of desire coursing through Kakashi's body. Sakura burst out laughing and reached up to brush her thumb above his lip. Her finger came away crimson from a nosebleed he hadn't felt. She grinned. "Want me to heal that for you?"

Kakashi dropped his head, placing light kisses around Sakura's left breast. He took the other in the palm of his hand, kneading the skin. Sakura gasped, her clever retorts lost as Kakashi's tongue followed the same path, circling inward. He brushed the skin, reveling in the way her body jumped in response. Her fingers tangled in his hair, trying to pull Kakashi to where she wanted his mouth to be. He resisted, focusing on slow, torturous sweeps of his tongue.

When Sakura writhed beneath him, trying to get more, Kakashi pulled back and grinned. "Want me to take care of that for you?"

Sakura cursed, and Kakashi knew a moment of victory before the woman's hands and legs tightened, rolling him onto his back. "You're infuriating. You know that, right?"

Kakashi's hum morphed into a groan when Sakura ground her hips against his. She kissed down his chest, torturously easing the pressure between them. Sakura paused at the button and zipper of Kakashi's pants; his breath hitched in his throat as she took her time, running a finger over the skin beneath the waistband. Kakashi exhaled with the effort of not lifting his hips as she pushed the zipper lower.

Reaching down, Kakashi ran a hand over Sakura's cheek. "We don't have to, not yet."

"I want to," Sakura mumbled, blushing. "I just, what if I'm not any good."

Kakashi didn't mean to laugh, he really didn't, but he couldn't stop himself. Sakura tightened her hands, nails pricking against his stomach so he smothered the amusement. "You tie me in knots without any of this." Kakashi kissed her forehead. "I want you to be comfortable with anything we do."

"I am," Sakura repeated, moving up to kiss Kakashi for a long moment. "I want you to be my first, Kakashi, my first, and my only."

Fear and excitement washed through Kakashi's body as he brought his lips back to Sakura's breasts. He moved toward the nipple, flicking the sensitive skin until it hardened. Sakura pushed her hips against Kakashi's when his mouth closed around the nub. He pulled back, letting the nipple slide from between his lips with a soft, wet pop then focused his ministrations on the other side. A delicious moan slid from Sakura's lips as she wrapped her arms around his head to hold him there.

Sakura's eyes shot open when Kakashi's hand dropped between her legs, massaging through the thin fabric. She arched and rocked against his palm. It was all that he could do to keep his touch slow and steady. Watching the play of emotions on her face, he slid one hand inside the stretchy black material of her pants. Sakura's hips leapt toward his hand as he brushed the fabric-was that lace? It certainly felt like lace-below.

Pushing the distracting garment to the side, Kakashi teased his fingerss over Sakura's lower lips. She whimpered his name, lost in the new experience. Kakashi extracted his hand and took Sakura's shoulders, guiding her to lie beside him. The scent of her excitement waged war on the logical part of Kakashi's brain. He exhaled and hooked his fingers in her pants, drawing them down to reveal black lace underneath. Kakashi trailed warm kisses over Sakura's panties, and her hips bucked up toward his mouth.

"Easy," Kakashi murmured, marveling at the beauty that was Sakura's body. Her scent was overwhelming when he captured her eager hips. "Slow down, and trust me."

Nodding, Sakura stilled underneath Kakashi. He breathed against her skin, drinking in every shudder and twitch. When he kissed across the lace hard enough to conform the fabric to the skin beneath, Sakura's hand clenched in the beeding. It took most of Kakashi's considerable strength to hold her steady as he pushed the panties to the side. "I like these," he murmured.

Sakura's response was lost in a moan when Kakashi's tongue parted her lips and brushed the sensitive, pink skin between them. The woman's evident excitement suffused Kakashi's senses, and her desperate gasps added fuel to the fire growing in his stomach. Gazing up at the beautiful arch of Sakura's back, Kakashi circled the bundle of nerves at the top of her slit. Sakura bit down on her fist, holding back the cries of pleasure.

"I want to hear you," Kakashi breathed, pulling back for air. He released her hips, letting them move as she dropped the hand away from her mouth. Sakura threw her head back with an expletive when Kakashi slid a finger into her warmth. Driven by the sound, he pushed his tongue between her lips. His name tangled in her throat when his curled finger sent jolts of pleasure through her body.

"Please, Kashi-oh Kami, please," Sakura's cries rose another octave, and her hips bucked toward Kakashi's mouth. His body rutted against the mattress in desperation for her touch.

Sakura's world shattered with a cry of Kakashi's name. She tried to close her legs around his head as she came, but he continued the lazy passage of his tongue as she whimpered on the edge of painful pleasure. Rather than leaving his lover to freefall through the orgasm, Kakashi replaced his fingers with his mouth, lapping at her excitement. Sakura gasped. "Please. Ohhh, fuck, stop. I can't—."

Kakashi obeyed this time, pulling back to watch the delicate shudders passing through Sakura's body. She twitched and writhed as he moved beside her, placing lazy kisses along her shoulder. Rolling onto her side, Sakura captured Kakashi's lips. She rolled him to his back and set about removing his boxers. He grunted when her hand rubbed over his erection, and his hips jerked forward despite his efforts to stop them.

Regardless of everything they'd already done, Kakashi's cheeks warmed when the cool air ran over his bare skin. Sakura's eyes roved across his body before flicking back to Kakashi's face. He brushed a hand through her hair. "You don't have to," he assured her. "You never have to do anything you don't want to."

"I know," Sakura murmured, trailing her fingers over the hard length before closing a hand around him. As desperate as Kakashi was for the touch, he grimaced.

"Gently," Kakashi encouraged, and the fingers fell away.

Sakura frowned and blew out an exasperated breath. "This is harder than I thought."

"That's usually the idea." For the second time, Kakashi couldn't stop the laughter that rose in his throat. Seeing Sakura's expression, he sobered. "Here, let me help."

Kakashi pushed himself to recline against the pillows, half sitting up. He invited Sakura to touch him again. When the woman wrapped her hand around him, Kakashi closed his grip over hers, adjusting her fingers. Kakashi moved, encouraging Sakura into a steady rhythm. After a few moments, his heart rate increased, and his fingers tightened. He guided Sakura's thumb to the head. Kakashi's control slipped, and he thrust toward the combined pressure of their hands and closed his eyes.

Having gained confidence under Kakashi's touch, Sakura set the pace. Her movement drew soft moans from his lips. Kakashi's eyes shot open when her tongue swirled against the head of his cock. He managed a gasp of Sakura's name when her lips closed around him. Her mouth was devastatingly warm.

Sakura's hand pumped a couple of times, less certain without guidance. She reached out and caught Kakashi's fingers, guiding them lower. Taking the meaning, Kakashi stroked himself to free Sakura to focus on the pressure of her mouth. He grunted when her tongue pressed against the slit. If Kakashi had ever missed the sharingan, it was now. The image of Sakura's head bobbing up and down on him was one that Kakashi would have liked to have kept forever. The combination of his familiar touch and exotic feeling of her mouth nearly drove him over the edge.

"Stop," Kakashi gasped, dropping his hand to the bed. Sakura's replaced it. He cried out her name, hips thrusting toward her mouth. The movement shocked her into pausing, which allowed Kakashi to grasp at the vestiges of his self-control. "Stop," he repeated, voice trembling.

Kakashi felt Sakura's pout when he kissed her. "I wanted to-"

Sakura lost her complaint when Kakashi's fingers slid between her legs again. The dampness revealed how much she wanted him to continue. "You already have me," Kakashi interrupted, hooking his fingers in Sakura's panties to draw them down her legs. "All of me."

Running his hands under Sakura's thighs, Kakashi positioned himself between her legs. He brushed his cock against her core. The slippery warmth made it difficult to remember to go slow. "We need protection," Kakashi hissed, shocked that he'd let it get this far without thinking of that.

Hooking a hand behind Kakashi's neck, Sakura pulled him into a heated kiss. "It's fine," she breathed, shifting her body so his cock rubbed against her clit. "I've been taking birth control for months, waiting for you to be ready."

Sakura's kiss deepened, encouraging Kakashi to forget his questions and doubts. He didn't need convincing, they were both breathless and flushed with desire. Gripping himself in one hand, Kakashi rubbed the tip between Sakura's lips. Sakura watched him with a mix of apprehension and excitement. "If you want to stop-"

"Then, I'll fucking tell you," Sakura growled, raising her hips to encircle Kakashi. She threw her head back on the pillow with another curse, and he forced himself to be still. The warmth of Sakura nearly overwhelmed him, even when he was only partially inside her. Fingers tightened on Kakashi's back, nails digging into the skin as he slid back. He pushed forward a second time, and Sakura buried her face in his shoulder.

Kakashi confined himself to slow and steady movements, even when Sakura's moans argued against the patient approach he was trying to take. She kissed his shoulder and nipped at the curve where it met his neck. The next thrust carried Kakashi completely inside of Sakura. The woman cried out, biting down on his shoulder as he paused. Pushing back, Kakashi parted Sakura's lips and found her clit. She whimpered as he started to move. If there was pain, the pleasure outweighed it. Sakura pulled Kakashi's hips down with every thrust.

All at once, Sakura came undone under Kakashi's hands. Her walls tightened and she arched into his chest, pushing his hand from between her legs. Kakashi continued as the muscles rippled around him, encouraging her orgasm to last longer. When it faded, he started to draw back. Sakura pulled Kakashi close and kissed him with abandon. Her hips rose and fell, encouraging Kakashi to continue. He surrendered.

Heat spread through Kakashi's veins like fire. Sakura pushed him toward completion, and he let himself be driven. The tension built to a physical pain below his stomach, tight and aching. Then, it snapped. Three frantic hitches of his hips later, and Kakashi collapsed against Sakura. Every muscle in his body felt like it had turned to liquid.

Kakashi rolled to the side, removing the weight from Sakura's chest. He traced a thumb over her sweat damp cheek. "Are you okay?"

Sakura nodded, squeezing her legs shut as she fought to steady her breath. Kakashi willed his heart rate to slow, too exhausted to focus on anything but the gentle red flush on Sakura's cheek. "I love you," he murmured.

"I love you too." Sakura was silent for a few minutes, then pushed into a sitting position. Kakashi startled from his half sleep to blink at her in confusion. She smiled. "Do you mind if I use your shower?"

Kakashi nodded toward the bathroom. "Of course not. You know where it is."

Sakura slid out of the bed and walked across the room, hips swaying more than they needed to. She paused at the doorway and glanced over her shoulder. "You know, I think two people can fit in your shower, if we get creative."

The words trailed off invitingly, and Kakashi wished he was ten years younger. He chuckled and tossed off the blankets that he'd pulled around himself, then crossed the room and took Sakura into his arms. He kissed her long and thoroughly. Smoothing a hand down her back, he gave her ass a squeeze. "You're going to kill me, you know that, right?"

Sakura grinned. "And, you'll enjoy every minute of it."

#My writing #KakaSaku #Probably shouldn't read this at work #some pwp #maybe a lot #First times #I think this was a challenge at some point #But it's been so long that I forgot

[moral-turpitudes]

Tea Party:

A/N: So Tumblr has been a bitch and not showing certain things in the tags so I’m reposting this requested fic lol.

Trigger Warnings: Angst, Some fluff, Slight smut, Swearing, Fighting, Blood, Drinking/Alcohol, etc.

Word Count: 3,425

Characters: Tommy x Reader

Summary: Y/n helps Ada Shelby on a whim, saving her life and earning some praise from the Shelby family, but little did she know she’d fall for one of their most respected members.

Summary of Request: “Reader saving one of the Shelbys from their enemies and taking them home safely and the family being thankful. A few days later the enemy goes after the reader thinking she works for them and they destroy her shop, house, or car. The Shelbys find out about this and offer help, and she becomes closer to the family and everybody really likes her and she starts a relationship with Tommy. I’d like angst, fluff, and smut.”

Requested by: Anon

It was a bleak winter evening the night you met Thomas Shelby. The stars were shining and the moon was illuminating the dark roads of Small Heath, giving you an rare view of the town. You had just finished packing up your small jewelry stand that you had set up near where your families vardo was parked. This was one of your more frequent stops as there were always locals wanting to buy jewelry for their loved ones. In return, this made you a nice familiar face amongst the dreary town.

In the distance, you heard screaming, but it wasn’t one of children playing or couples yelling, it was fearful and full of anguish. Before you knew it you were running towards the sound. Yelling for your mother to keep an eye on your stuff as you dashed off into the unknown. Your heart beat frantically as the shrill screams got closer, causing a shiver down your spine as your eyes adjusted to what lay before you in the dark alley. A woman seemingly around your age was lying there in a pool of blood, a cut running across her arm and a stab wound to her abdomen. You cringed at first, but having seen your fair share of blood due to your family throwing punches and hunting, it made you a bit less squeamish. You carefully crouched down beside her, pulling off your scarf as you gently placed it over her abdomen.

Her eyes were closed and her voice was horse when she spoke.

“Please don’t let me die out here. Please take me back.” She said crying as she finally glanced up at you.

“I-I won’t let you die love you’ll be fine...where do you live? What’s your name?” You asked applying pressure to her wound as she screamed out in pain.

“A-Ada...Ada Shelby...I don’t want to go home. Take me to my brothers.” She said frantically trying to get up.

“Hey hey easy, it’s okay I got you. Where are they aye?” You asked as you draped her arm across your shoulder and helped her walk down the dark glass-like roads.

“The betting shop on the corner. You really don’t know do you?” She asked.

“Know what Ada?” You asked, leading her up the street.

“Usually if I say the last name Shelby people run or they look at me like I killed their whole family. The Shelby’s are part of the Peaky Blinders...does that ring a bell?” She asked wincing, signaling for you to stop for a moment. As you both caught your breath, you shook your head no.

“I don’t know how you couldn’t tell but I’m not like most people. I’m not from here. I travel with my family and I come here often to find work and to sell jewelry, but other than that? I’m on the road.” You said looking at your flat shoes, nothing compared to miss Ada’s fancy heels.

“I see...what’s your name?” She asked smiling slightly.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You said, grabbing her arm and helping her walk towards the brick building up ahead.

You led her through the doors, the scent of whiskey and cigarettes filling the dimly lit lobby.

“Polly! Tommy! All of you bastards help me please!” She said yelling as the scarf grew more saturated with blood in the short time you walked her in. She was paling and you sat her up in a nearby chair as you heard everyone running over.

“My god what happened! Arthur, John, get the first aid kit now!” She yelled as Tommy came over, a worried look on his usually stoic face. You grabbed your coat, applying pressure as Ada winced until they got back with the supplies.

“I was walking here from my apartment. Tommy, I think one of Changretta’s men got me. They had those awful tattoos on their necks. They fucking cut me and stabbed me. I can’t die not like this.” She said putting a hand on her pale forehead.

Tommy looked at her concerned, his eyes going down to you as you sat by her holding her other hand.

“Who are you?” He asked angrily.

“Y/N Y/L/N...I heard her when I was packing my jewelry stand up. I ran over to help her. I didn’t see where the men went though.” You said looking him in the eyes before helping Polly prep some gauze. You took your glove off and urged her to open her mouth.

“You’ll want to bite down on something. This is going to hurt.” You said before pouring some of the whiskey on her abdomen while Polly poured some on her arm. Ada screamed through the cloth, earning concerned glances from some of the unrelated workers in the shop. You poured more, making sure to flush out the wound before quickly threading a needle.

“I can stitch if you’d rather not go to a hospital.” You said. Polly eyed you and Ada nodded as you began. Tommy watched as you worked, neatly stitching the small puncture wound closed.

Polly gently wrapped her arm with gauze and you helped Ada up to wrap some around her waist. After that, she gave you a hug and you went to grab your coat.

“No dear, here I’ll wash these, it’s the least we can do. Thank you for saving our Ada, Y/N.” Polly said smiling.

“Of course...I couldn’t let something happen knowing I was that close.” You said, messing nervously with the gold necklaces draped around your neck.

“So you’re travelling with the other gypsies up the road aye?” Polly asked.

“Yeah. my family likes stopping here, good business since it’s busy usually.” You said.

“Oh I’m very familiar. I grew up traveling. I think I’ve seen you before...you sell the beautiful necklaces.” She said smiling, putting your nerves at ease.

“Yeah...” You said.

“C’mon we have to find them. John you get the guns, Arthur you get the ammo.” Tommy said lowly walking by you.

“Are you going after them?” You asked him. He stopped in his tracks as his eyes pierced yours. He nodded and lit a cigarette staring at you as he waited for his brothers.

“You going to kill them?” you asked.

He smirked and looked over at Ada and Polly and then back at you.

“No I’m just goin’ to see if they want to have a tea party.” He said dryly joking.

You nodded, knowing the real answer. To be honest you’d do the same if someone came after your family.

They soon left, leaving you with Polly and a groaning Ada.

“You’ve not heard of the blinders?” Polly asked gathering your blood soaked clothing. You shook your head, yet preparing yourself for her explanation of the family business.

Later that night, you were taken back to where you family was parked by one of the Shelby’s drivers. Thanking him as you were helped out of the fancy black car. Your family came out of the two vardos and ran towards you enveloping your frame in a hug and asking where you had run off to. You hesitantly told them, knowing they were more likely to know who your new acquaintances are.

Your father tensed up and so did your mother, but you reassured them and could tell they were still happy you stopped to help someone.  

The next few days passed and you spent them selling various necklaces and then deciding to go into town with your parents. You all bought some supplies and various things, and then returned a few hours later. While unpacking your latest haul, you heard an oddly familiar voice outside. Carefully stepping out, you saw Ada and Tommy talking with your parents. They seemed at ease as you heard Tommy speaking with your father. As you walked up you saw Ada smile and go in for a hug. You embraced her gently to avoid ripping her stitches and then stepped back.

“Hello Y/N. We wanted to thank you.” He said smiling slightly, handing you your jacket and scarf from the previous night, no sign of blood on them. They were soft and smelled rather floral.

“Oh thank you. And it was no problem really Mr. Shelby.” You said, catching him looking at you as you glanced up from the coat in your arms.

“Call me Tommy.” He said, another small smile playing at his lips.

Your parents excused themselves knowing this was more your business than theirs, and you hugged Ada once more before waving them off.

A thought crossed your mind though, making you smirk.

“Hey Tommy!” You asked, causing him to stop with Ada, the two of them looking at you.

“How was the tea party?” You asked smirking.

“Great...a little bloody though.” He said smirking back.

You nodded and waved them off, putting on your coat and placing your scarf in one of your pockets. When you tried to pull your hand out, your fingers brushed against a piece of paper. You gently pulled it out, and opened it so you could read what it said.

“Y/N Y/L/N,

I apologize for being so frank last night. Per my aunt Polly’s request...as well as all of my sibling’s, I have written this as a thank you for saving my sister. She has been talking non-stop about the events that transpired and about you. Something about how we should meet more often and that you seem like a good fit for me? I can’t say no to her though, since she practically begged me to write this.

Therefore, since we didn’t meet in normal circumstances and since I can’t help but to agree, I’d love to ask you out. I’ll be at the shop tomorrow evening at 6. If you’re interested, I’d love for you to come by. I look forward to getting to know you and discussing the “tea party.”

~ T. S.”

You smiled at the small letter and laughing at the assumed inside joke between you two. You’d barely met the man, but if his family felt this strongly, you figured it couldn’t hurt. You’d been single for a long while, the constant travel putting a strain on any relationship you attempted to have in the past.

The next day you spent the day rummaging through your various dresses, picking out a lacey white one. You slipped it on and checked your makeup in the small mirror in your vardo before heading out, wrapping your coat around your shoulders. As you made your way through the streets you eventually got to the shop and walked in nervously. It was a drastically different atmosphere compared to the other night, men were roaming about yelling out various numbers and the other women among them were typing and making calls.

You saw Polly in the distance and smiled when she saw you come in. She quickly walked over, giving you a hug.

“What are you doing here dear? Is everything alright?” She asked.

You smirked. “I’m um, here to see Tommy. I got a letter?” You said, holding it in your hand.

“Ah that. I’m glad he got to writing it. I’ll show you to his office.” She said, taking your hand.

She knocked and he answered, letting her in with you following behind.

“I have a visitor Tommy. Be good. She said nodding towards him and leaving.

Tommy smiled and stood up, eyeing you as you walked towards his desk.

“I see you got the letter...would you like a drink? I have whiskey and.....whiskey.” He said, walking over to his stash of the brown liquid and crystal glasses.

“That’s a hard one...I’m going to have to go with the whiskey.” You said smirking.

A minute later you were holding a cold glass, sipping on it as you sat in one of Tommy’s leather chairs.

“So about the tea party...I’m assuming my aunt told you about the peaky business right?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You said, fiddling with your necklace.

“Does that make you scared?” He asked. You thought for a moment, but you decided to take another chance.

“Not really. I’m here aren’t I?” You said.

He laughed lightly and took a drink, sitting down beside you.

“You said you agreed to their request of meeting me...is that true?” You asked. Tommy got up after a moment and put his hand out for you to grab.

“If it weren’t, we wouldn’t be leaving.” He said. You took his hand and laughed as he pulled you through the lobby and out the doors of the shop.

“Where the hell are we going?” You asked seeing the sun was setting over the town.

“The Garrison. I figured that it’d be more of a date if I took ya somewhere.” He said ushering you inside the pub. The smell of smoke and various alcohols filled your nostrils as you took your coat off and placed it with Tommy’s.

As you all talked the night away, you grew more drowsy and he walked you back towards your vardo. But in shock, you stood there looking at the sight before you. The wooden planks holding up the intricate structure were torn off, and the inside was destroyed. You ran over to your parents and saw them picking up pieces of clothing and random trinkets the assumed robbers left behind. When you walked back and checked your living space you saw a black cross-like design had been painted on your door.

You looked at Tommy with hot, anger filled tears in your eyes.

“Who did this? Who fucked with my family aye?” You said walking up to him and shoving him in the shoulder. He barely moved as a an angry look overcame his features as well. You stormed off and rummaged for a handgun you had in your purse, never feeling the need to use it until now.

“You know who did this don’t you. Don’t fucking lie to me Tom.” You said cocking the gun and checking the bullets. He watched you as you angrily paced, and walked over, gently placing his hand over the barrel of the gun.

“I do know. It’s the same gang that attacked Ada. We...unfortunately have a vendetta with them. But going out there and shooting random men isn’t going to stop this.” He said looking at you. You were shaking slightly at the sudden rush of emotions as the alcohol still burned through your system.

“They took almost everything from us. Where will we go? Where the hell will we live? I though you took care of them last time!” You yelled, easing the handgun down and shoving it back into your purse.

“I have a spare property down the road, you all can stay there. Don’t worry Y/N I’ll make sure they won’t live to see tomorrow.” He said before you threw him into a hug. You cried knowing your family was safe, but also at the thought of losing all you’ve worked for. Your life was in that small space and it was all gone or severely broken, and your heart was too.

“C’mon, I’ll send some men to come help them. I’ll take you to the shop, and you’ll stay there until I get back ok?” He said. You nodded and followed him to the shop, this time in a much more sullen tone.

He immediately called everyone into the meeting room and he let you sit by Polly as he spoke. You quietly told her what happened and she sighed. The rest of them you had assumed liked you after saving their sisters life and all, and so they all got ready, cocking their guns and putting on their razor caps. Ada came over to you with tears in her eyes, taking your hands in hers.

“Oh Y/N I’m so sorry to have dragged you into this.” She said. You smiled and reassured her she wasn’t at fault. As the night drug on, you discussed your new living situation and were alerted by some of Tommys men that your parents were safe. You cried with relief, sitting in the meeting room shakily. Polly came in a moment later, with some tea, knowing you needed something to calm your nerves.

“Thanks.” You said, feeling the hot steam against your lips.

“No problem. Don’t worry about him, he’ll be back. He always is.” She said staring out at the night sky through the dusty window.

You nodded, sitting there as you let your mind wander. You looked up after a long while, your eyes growing heavy, and decided to concentrate on the clock. It was almost midnight.

Before your mind could race to where your new love interest could be, he thankfully came through the doors with his brothers, as they hollered and sat their weapons down.

You stood up slowly, as you saw Tommy walk towards you. He had a cut on his forehead and a slightly busted lip.

He said nothing as he came to you, the adrenaline from the night coursing through him as he embraced you, catching you by surprise. He then kissed you, his lip burning slightly as he kissed you, but nevertheless he continued. When he stopped, you stood there gazing into his eyes.

“They’re gone. You don’t have to worry now.” He said. You nodded and hugged him again, feeling him planting a kiss on the top of your head.

“Well are you going to invite her over or are you going to fuck in the lobby?” Arthur shouted as John and the others laughed. Tommy turned around slightly and gave him a look and then turned back to you.

“Would you like to go now?” He asked.

Your cheeks heated up at his brothers remarks, but you decided to take him up on the offer. “Yeah, as a matter of fact I do.” You said, and before you knew it you where being led out to his car and driven to his house, nervously awaiting what was to come. As soon as you got to his estate, he led you through on a tour. Your eyes widened at the grandiosity of the place. You had rarely seen a place like this, only imagining them in fairytales. You looked around as he led you through, stopping lastly at the main bedroom which you assumed was his.

You had just enough time to revel at the room before he kissed you again, making you giggle slightly as he snaked his arms around your waist and nipped at your neck. As he worked his way down, he undid your dress, letting it slip down your frame as he went to lie back on the bed. You hesitantly undid his shirt and pants, slipping them off as he watched you.

“Are you sure you want to?” He asked.

“Never been so sure in my life...” You said before straddling his waist. He smirked, and kissed you as you continued your movements making him fall for you more with each second that passed.

After your night together, you decided a couple of days later on another date, more-so like a re-do since you both were more drawn to each other. As time went on, you became closer with his family, while yours acclimated to their new temporary surroundings. And over the upcoming weeks you managed to land a job with them, helping you to earn some money and helping your parents to get a new vardo to get them back on their feet. After a couple of months you had been able to attend more of the family meetings, after deciding to stay at Tommy’s place instead of travelling. And after some odd weeks later, a new gang problem arose, giving you that same fearful feeling that you had some many months ago. Before heading out, tommy cocked his gun and checked the bullets making sure each one was accounted for, and walked past you with his brothers towards the door.

“Hey you forgot something...” You said smirking as he smiled and walked towards you kissing you.

“No more tea parties alright? You be careful okay?” You said. He chuckled and winked at you before heading out the door, going out to deal with death and destruction once again. As much as you hated him being gone, you loved when he came back, and his family did too of course, especially since you’ve made him a bit nicer. As you walked back to your desk and picked up where you left of with your work, you smiled, knowing you made the right choice and took the right chances.

Tag List:

@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @wowjeena, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma

#katiesanons #katiesrequests #katiesfics #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders oneshots

[missscarletta7]

The Broken Crown- Chapter 4

Enjoy chapter 4!

Summary: All Margaret Shelby ever wanted, was the opportunity to write her own story. Only now is she beginning to realize that her brother may have already written it for her...

OoOoOo

"When your dreams all fail,

And the ones we hail, Are the worst of all,

And the blood runs stale"

~Demons~

OoOoOo

1919

Maggie was so excited. She dragged Cara toward the pub the moment their school day was finished.

"Why are we going into the Garrison?" The blonde asked curiously.

"You have to meet the barmaid who works here," Maggie explained.

"I've seen her," Cara informed her. "What's so special about her?"

"We've become good friends." It was true, after such a long period of time had passed without seeing her older sister, Grace inevitably filled the gaping space that Ada had left behind.

"Should I be jealous?" The blonde teased.

Maggie flashed a loving smile, "No one could ever replace you."

When the dark-haired girl opened the pub door, the first thing they heard was Grace's melodic voice singing. "-As I've never loved before..."

Maggie spotted Grace serving drinks to the regular customers. Unfortunately, one of those customers was Ross, who was sitting with a group of men who would hang around the betting shop. Cara was quick to notice him too, her body immediately tensed.

"Since first I saw you on the village green..."

"Sorry Mags, I forgot my mum wanted me to fix stitching on some dresses," This was one of the few times Maggie had ever seen Cara looking embarrassed, "Maybe next time, yeah?"

"Come to me ere my dream of love is o'er..."

The dark-haired girl nodded, not wanting to refute the her friends claim, and watched Cara hurriedly exit through the doors.

"I love you as I loved you when you were sweet..." Maggie moved herself over to the row of empty barstools and took a seat as Grace was finishing her song. "When you were sweet sixteen."

Grace then walked behind the bar while Maggie applauded at the performance. "Hello Maggie," Grace greeted happily, grabbing a dirty pint glass off the bar. "Don't look behind you,but a handsome young man is staring at you."

Maggie felt her stomach turn, responding, "Let's change the subject."

Grace smirked, "How was school?"

"Dull," The girl said truthfully, "Harry out again?"

Grace nodded, "It's been slow."

"What have you been doing today?"

"I had a meeting with the gentleman who will be installing the pub's brand new phone."

"Neat." Maggie beamed at the thought of the new technology.

"Your brother is trying to go legitimate." Grace informed her, "He wants to make this place seem a bit more respectable."

"Which one?" The dark-haired girl asked.

"Arthur." She answered back unenthusiastically, "Though he doesn't seem too interested in fixing anything. I mean, look at the state of these." The barmaid picked up a carton of cigarettes that was ripping apart. "Where do these even come from?" She asked, hoping this question would lead to where the guns may be hidden.

Maggie just shrugged at her question. "How should I know? I think they have a few warehouses in town."

Grace nodded, taking in the information, before noticing a customer beckon her over, "I'll be back." She told the girl.

Maggie sat by herself for a few moments before she felt a presence inch closer to stand beside her. She knew there would be a confrontation at some point, she had done so well in avoiding him. She didn't have a chance to say anything before Ross spoke first, "I had instructions to give this to you."

Reaching into the pocket inside of his coat he pulled out a folded piece of parchment, placing it on the bar he slid it towards her. She was surprised but nevertheless relieved when he said nothing else and walked back to his table. Taking the note, she unfolded it to read the message that was scribbled out. As she read a smile crept onto her face. The message was from Ada.

OoOoOo

In the parlor, Maggie had been writing in her journal when Polly descended the down the stairs. "Put your shoes on," The older woman ordered, "Johns called a family meeting."

Watching Polly walk across the room, Maggie raised her eyebrow, "Thought I wasn't allowed at family meetings."

"John says it's not that kind of a meeting," Polly said, exiting into the tiny kitchen. Maggie happily closed her book and slipped on her black boots which were resting right underneath the old coffee table, before following her aunt into the kitchen.

"Pol?" Maggie asked worriedly when she noticed the woman standing rigidly by the table. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing." Polly said after a moment, "C'mon, we don't want to be late." Polly moved to enter the betting shop with her niece in tow.

"Where's John?" Tommy asked his aunt, agitated his brother was not at his post.

"John's in the Garrison, says he wants a meeting about a family matter," Polly informed him, placing her hat on her head. "After he's said his piece he'll come back and take his place with Scudboat."

Maggie tried to follow her aunt, but was stopped by Tommy's outstretched arm, "Where are you going?"

"To the meeting. John told Polly I could come," Maggie explained to him.

Though Tommy didn't look completely persuaded, Polly called on the large man taking bets. "John will be here in ten minutes"

"Five," Tommy corrected before the family walked out of the shop onto the cobblestone pavement.

"What does John want to talk about?" Tommy asked his aunt.

"Your guess is as good as mine. Always been one for dramatics, our John" Polly replied jokingly causing Maggie to chuckle out.

"You're in a good mood," Tommy noted to the smiling girl as he pulled out a cigarette to smoke.

"I like going to the Garrison," Maggie responded.

"She likes talking to that barmaid." Polly translated her nieces' words.

"You and Grace seem to chat a lot," Tommy spoke, exhaling a breath of smoke.

The girl shrugged. "I like Grace, she likes my writing," quickly adding, "We're friends."

"You trust her enough to share your work," Tommy said, impressed by the sudden growth of his sister. "I'm thinking of asking her to be my secretary," Tommy suddenly informed the ladies.

"Only a secretary?" Maggie asked, raising her eyebrows cheekily.

He flashed her a ghost of a smile, "Never you mind."

"Secretary, eh?" Polly finally spoke up as the Garrison came into their view.

"We're going, legitimate Pol." Tommy reasoned, "What's more legitimate than a secretary? Or maybe I’ll make her a bookkeeper. Arthur mentioned she’s good with numbers and helped him fix the books." Polly said nothing and this seemed to spark something in the gangster, "Got something to say?"

"Just don't let your cock do your thinking for you Thomas," Polly warned. He remained silent, but a small smirk was fixed on his face causing the aunt to roll her eyes.

When they entered the pub, it was empty, except for Harry, who stood behind the bar drying some glasses with a white rag. They saw Finn leaning against the outer wall of the private room, which Maggie assumed John and Arthur were already in.

"Stay out here Finn," Polly ordered the eleven-year-old who tried to enter with them.

"But Mags gets to go in!" The boy protested, yet his words went unheard. This made him look jealousy at his sister, who had stuck her tongue out at her little brother as she walked into the snug with the rest of the family. Both John and Arthur were already seated, and she took a place right next to Polly.

"All right John, there's only one man-," Tommy spoke, before declining the drink Arthur poured for him continuing, "There's only one man guarding the house. What's troubling you?"

"Aunt Polly, Maggie, you two know what it's been like since Martha died." John began.

Maggie gave her brother a sad smile as Polly took his hand and said, "God takes the best first."

John looked to his sister, "Mags, you've been a big help with them, but the truth is my kids have been running bloody rings around me." With hopelessness in his voice, he continued, "Running barefoot with the dogs until all hours."

Maggie's heart ached for him, but Tommy was not having it, "Pol, give him ten bob for some new shoes. Is that it, John?" He asked his brother impatiently.

"Tommy it would be better to do this without you," Polly scolded before turning her attention back to John. "Now what's your point?"

"What the kids need is a mother." John spoke again slowly, "So that's why I'm getting married."

Everyone in the room exchanged glances of surprise. Polly was the first to speak, "Does this poor girl know you're going to marry her? Or are you just going to spring it on her all of a sudden?"

John replied matter-of-factly, "I've already proposed, and she said 'yes'."

"I think that's great John," a smiling Maggie announced. Finally! She was officially off babysitting duty.

"I think there's a shell about to land and go bang," Tommy stated mockingly, before lighting the cigarette hanging in his mouth.

Hesitantly John spoke again, "It's um- its Lizzie Stark."

"Oh, eww," Maggie breathed out, crossing her arms as her family cackled at her expression.

Polly managed to compose herself, "John, Lizzie Stark is a strong woman and I am sure she provides a fine service for her customers-"

"I won't hear the word! Understand? Do not use that word." He told them angrily.

Tommy sighed out, "What word is that, John?"

"You know what word that is," John growled out.

"Everybody bloody knows" Arthur finally spoke out and pointed at his sister, "Shit, even Mags here knows."

John gritted out, "Everybody can go to Hell."

"Whore. That word?" Tommy finally supplied. "Or prostitute? How about that one?"

Fury flashed in Johns' eyes, "Right I want it known, if anyone calls her a whore again, I will push the barrel of my revolver down their throats and blow the word back down into their hearts."

"Well, that's not dramatic at all," Maggie mumbled out her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Men and their cocks never cease to amaze me." Polly berated, "John, Lizzie Stark never did a day's work vertical- "

"She's changed!" John insisted, "All right?! People change! Like- Like with religion-"

"Lizzie Stark has got religion, eh?" Tommy interrupted.

"No! No, she doesn't have religion, but- well she loves me." John asserted, "Now listen Tommy, I won't do it without your blessing. But of all the people in the world- I want you to see it as brave."

"Oh, it's brave all right," Arthur muttered before taking a swig of his drink.

"Brave is going where no man has gone before. And with Lizzie Stark, John, that really is not what you'll be doing" She told him, unable to hold back the laughter.

But he ignored her, looking back at his older brother, "Listen, Tommy, welcome her to the family, as someone whose had a hard life. All right because I need someone. The kids need someone."

Tommy looked as if he was about to give his reply before Finn pushed open the door forcefully panting out, "Tommy, we've been done over!"

"What?" Arthur asked in disbelief.

Quickly Maggie followed her siblings and Polly, who all practically ran out of the Garrison. Not stopping until they all were back in front of number seventeen, Watery Lane. "You and Finn stay outside," Polly ordered once they were outside the entrance of the betting shop.

Maggie was about to object until Tommy echoed their aunts' instructions and followed the rest of his family inside. The pair of Shelby's eventually moved from the noisy street to the alley where the car was parked. Finn carefully crawled onto the hood and contorted his way over the front window. Maggie followed her brother, stepping up to sit on top of the hood, letting her feet lightly kick the metal of the vehicle that protected the thin wheels.

"Look, Maggie," Finn giggled and the girl twisted her upper body to see her brother playing with the steering wheel, "I'm Tommy!"

The girl smiled, "If you're trying to be Tommy, you should work more on your scowl." She told him jokingly. Overdramatically Finn made a scowl but immediately broke character by breaking out in even more giggles, triggering Maggie to laugh as well.

Suddenly Tommy was at the entrance of the alleyway in front of them, he looked instantly distressed. "Maggie, Finn." He began slowly, "Both of you stay exactly where you are."

"What's wrong?" she asked him worriedly. Did something happen inside?

Raising his arm out to her spoke out cautiously, "Mags, as careful as ya can, I need you to slowly slide off the hood."

She did as she was told, while Finn kept snickering, "I was pretending I was you." The child told his brother, but Tommy ignored him instead he directed Maggie to move against the dingy brick wall.

Once he felt like his sister was out of danger he went back to the child in the car, "Which door did you open to come in Finn?"

"I didn't," He told his big brother proudly. "I climbed in."

"I want you to climb out exactly the same way you climbed in, okay?" Tommy instructed, but Finn disobeyed and opened the driver's door.

Maggie watched as Tommy ran to grab an object that had been on the side of the door, yelling out, "Clear!" before flinging it to hit the brick wall on the opposite side of the street. Maggie yelped out at the sound of the explosion, which caused working men to drop to the ground. "That's why you should never pretend to be me, okay?" Tommy told Finn, visibly shaken by this incident. Tommy then took a deep breath and pulled both of his younger siblings close to him.

OoOoOo

Polly and Maggie had just entered the washhouse Ada had informed them she would be visiting. It was a large space, but luckily there were not very many people who decided to do their laundry at the establishment that afternoon. Alone in the corner of the washroom, sitting on a stool, was a woman with a long brown coat, wide black hat, folding trousers onto the small table beside her.

"Need help?" Polly asked the woman eagerly.

The woman looked up to see her family members and smiled, "You got my letter." Ada grinned and stood up with a bit of difficulty, Polly was the first one to embrace her.

Once the aunt and niece pulled apart it was Maggie's turn. Though the hug was more on the awkward side, due to the sizable stomach that was in the way. She muttered into her sisters' ear, "Fuck, you're huge!"

"Oh, shut up." Ada happily retorted, smacking her sister's arm lightly.

"What's with the glasses?" Maggie laughed and pointed at the large spectacles on her sister's face.

"Freddie wants me in disguise when I go out now." She spoke with a bored tone and pointed to the strange-looking eyeglasses. "Can't bloody see anything with these."

Maggie grabbed a pair of socks, which she assumed was Freddie's, from Ada's hand, "Here let me help you." She told her sister and began to fold the newly laundered clothing.

"Has Freddie got you hiding somewhere near?" Polly asked hostilely.

"It's fucking rat hole," Ada spit out, "the entire flat is about the size of your room, Mags."

Maggie felt sad for her sister. Sure, the Shelby family didn't have much to their name, but they were better off compared to most of the population in Small Heath. "Is that Copper still looking for Freddie?" Ada inquired to which Polly nodded.

Ada cursed and placed a hand on her large stomach, "I just want to live in peace with my family. But instead of thinking of me or the baby, all he cares about is the bloody cause. Freddie even gave someone two hundred bloody pounds."

Polly leaned in closer to the pregnant girl, and with a hushed tone asked, "Who?"

OoOoOo

Maggie walked down the hall from her room to Tommy's, she was hoping she could borrow a pen since hers ran out of ink. Before she opened the closed door, she could have sworn she heard noises. Had her brother come home early?

"Tom?" She asked, opening the door, but that wasn't who was in the room, "John?"

Being caught, the third oldest Shelby stopped his rifling through their brothers' things, though seemed relieved it was only her, "Mags-"

"What are you doing here?" She asked before she noticed that his eyes were watery, "Has something happened?"

"The weddings off," He informed her with an irritated tone and moved to the dresser drawers.

"Oh." Was all she could manage to say awkwardly, "I'm sorry."

"Don't," he told her bitterly, shaking his head then went back to rifling through the dresser flipping over Tommy's clothes. "It ain't your fault I'm a fucking idiot!"

"You're no idiot, John," she assured him yet he just scoffed at her words.

"Never fall in love Maggie, leads to nothing but fucking agony."

“What does falling in love even feel like anyway?” She surprised herself when she asked.

John stopped and turned his red eyes to her for a moment before continuing his search, “You know it… it's like this feeling in your gut.” He told her somewhat uncomfortably, “Your heart beats a little faster, your mind always wanders back to thinking about them, no matter what you're doing; when you eat, when you sleep, when you work… Why the fuck are you asking me this?”

“No reason”, Maggie said quickly. "What are you even looking for, anyway?"

He didn't respond to her question, causing her to become frustrated. "Fine, don't tell me." Maggie walked over to the nightstand, picked up the first writing device she saw and left the room.

OoOoOo

The next evening Maggie had fallen asleep on the sofa in the tiny parlor of their home, at least until she was shaken awake by her aunt. "What's the matter?" she muttered out, quickly sitting herself up. Was something wrong? Had the Lees come back?

"Nothing, love" Polly reassured her, "I left a new dress on your bed, go put it on."

"We're going out?" The girl asked, confused, no one had told her they had prior arrangements.

"Yes," Polly nodded, "Now c'mon, we don't have that much time."

Maggie rose from her spot, "Where are we going, Pol?"

"To a wedding," The older woman huffed impatiently and made her way up the stairs to the bedrooms.

This confused Maggie even more, "Whose?"

Not two hours later Maggie had gotten her answer. She and Polly met Ada near the Lees campground and walked into their enemy's territory with no trouble at all. They approach the crowd of witnesses just as Johnny Dogs begins the ceremony. Ada stopped to stand beside Tommy.

"Let's stand over here, love," Polly said, guiding Maggie past her siblings to get a better view of the union. She watched on as Johnny officiated, taking notice that her brother actually looked happy to be up there. Her attention was taken off the bride and groom when she spotted Ross standing about ten feet away with the rest of the Peaky Blinders. Smiling softly at his familiar face, she waved, her stress alleviated when he did the same.

"I now pronounce you man and wife," Johnny said happily as all the witnesses cheered at the new couple's first kiss.

As the night went on the partygoers were all in a festive mood. Sitting on a wooden barrel, Maggie watched as everyone mingled and danced. Tommy was sitting and chatting with the matriarch of the Lee family, Arthur was in the middle of what looked like a drinking contest, and John danced to the music with his beautiful new wife, Esme. Even she had started to sway to the music as the firecrackers sounded off over the happy noises.

"Mags," Ross greeted her, walking up next to stand next to her seating place.

"Hello," she replied, followed by an awkward pause, "I'm sorry I've been avoiding you." She told him after a few moments.

"Understandable." He responded instantly, "I've been a wanker and not just to you." Taking another puff of his cigarette, he exhaled, "I'll talk to Cara."

Maggie was surprised by this proclamation, "Really?"

"I'll sort it out." He nodded looking at the others dancing, and with a smile continued, "I miss walking with you two."

Maggie returned the smile, "We miss you too."

Ross stuck his hand out, "Care to dance?"

Maggie felt her face flush, and waved her hands in protest, "Oh, no I couldn't."

"C'mon, it's a party." He urged, with his hand still outstretched. Smiling, the girl cautiously took it and was led to the crowd.

Feeling like an idiot, she tried to keep up with the fast-paced music, but it seemed like her feet couldn't move fast enough. She felt someone clumsily bump into her backside nearly knocking her over. "Oi! Watch- Oh sorry love." Ada slurred out.

"It's alright," Maggie assured her sister, regaining her balance.

Ada then awkwardly cupped her little sister's face with both hands, and with a very stern tone warned, "Don't you ever let a man call you a 'Fucking Shelby' you hear me." She then rounded on the man next to her and jabbed a finger close to Ross’s face. "You hear me."

"Don't you worry, Ada," Ross guaranteed her, which seemed to be good enough for the older Shelby girl whose demeanor quickly changed back to her delighted drunkenness, dancing away from them.

As Ross spun her around, she caught a glimpse of John and Esme, sitting together and happily getting to know one another, "Seems like love at first sight." She heard Ross say.

"Seems so," Maggie replied happily. Very soon her attention was drawn to Tommy and Arthur trying to get a drunken Ada under control, "Oh no." She breathed out, walking closer to her feuding family members.

"Come and look, Esme!" Ada shouted, "Come and look at the family you joined!" The music ceased and now everyone's attention was on the intoxicated woman. "Come and look at the man who runs it! He chooses his brother's wives for them!" Ada shouted out for everyone to hear. She wasn't finished though, the woman then pointed at her younger sister, "Have you got some old perverted man lined up for Maggie?!"

Maggie felt her stomach drop at the thought, she felt everyone's gaze turn to her as she remained frozen in place. The only comfort that she felt was when Ross put her arm around her waist, as if to protect her. Tommy just stood in front of Ada looking at her stoically, but the mother-to-be wasn't done yet. "He hunts his own sister down like a rat, and he tries to kill his own brother-in-law!"

"Ada, that's enough!" Arthur tried to intervene.

"And now he won't even let me have a fucking dance! Not even at a fucking wedding!"

"Sit her down!" John barked out.

"Calm down Ada," Polly kept repeating, trying to soothe her. "Holy Shit. Water, right."

"Not now Ada," Arthur whined, obviously devastated the party was now unavoidably cut short. "Bloody hell, you do pick your times."

Tommy rushed over to Ada placing his coat over her and assisted Pol with leading her out of the vicinity and into the family car.

Maggie turned to her friend, "I have to-"

"Go." Ross finished for her.

Maggie rushed towards her family, who all made their way to the car. "It's too early!" she heard Ada cry out as she was ushered into the vehicle. Maggie too jumped into the front seat next to her brother.

"It'll be ok, love." Polly soothed sliding in next to her, before turning to the driver, "Step on it, Tommy."

OoOoOo

"Freddie," Ada kept repeating as she laid down on the sofa in the small parlor. "I want Freddie!"

"I know," Maggie sighed out uncomfortably, moving a sweaty piece of hair out of her sister's face.

"I can't do it, Mags. I can't do it on my own." Ada whimpered.

The younger girl's heart ached, "Hey, look at me, you can do this," She assured her, "You are so strong, if anyone can do this it'll be you."

Luckily for them, Esme had finally arrived moments later.

"Ada!" They heard Polly scream before she re-entered the home. "They're getting the word out to Freddie. He'll be here, love." She assured her niece, who grunted out as yet another contraction commenced.

"I think it might be the wrong way 'round," Esme told them, "I attended three sisters."

"Yeah, I think you're right," Polly agreed.

Maggie squirmed in place nervously, "What does that mean?"

"We should lean her forward," Esme suggested and Polly nodded, helping Ada up.

"C'mon, it's not that long to go, darling," The aunt encouraged the screaming woman. "Push, two, three!"

"Holy shit," Maggie muttered out, as she watched a new life was making its way out of her sister.

"Keep going, that's it!" Polly cheered before pulling out the baby completely. "It's a boy, Ada," Polly told the exhausted woman over the newborn's cries as Esme cut the cord connecting the mother and son with some old scissors.

Polly cleaned the new baby boy off tenderly with a small rag before returning him to Ada, who was beaming at the small life in her arms. Maggie heard banging from the front entrance and if she had not gotten out of the way fast enough Freddie may have run over her. Maggie smiled at the sight of the little family. The feeling didn't last long though, because the front door opened once again, and she felt herself being pushed aside the wall by a copper. Esme could be heard yelling, the baby boy began to shriek, and Ada sobbed, clinging to her newborn to her chest.

"Freddie!" Ada cried out as the group of officers dragged the new father out of the home.

"Tommy," Polly said darkly before letting out a string of curses in Romany before storming out of the house.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #shelby sister #tommy shelby #ada shelby #polly gray #oc #arthur shelby #john shelby #1920 #esme lee #finn shelby #peaky blinders fanfiction

[sisterspooky1013]

The Perfect Gift by SisterSpooky1013

2931 words, rated E

Read it here on AO3

Adult content immediately after the jump

He trailed kisses down her sternum, stopping to lavish each nipple with the rough brush of his tongue before continuing to her belly button, dipping into the shallow well of her navel and eliciting giggles from up among the pillows. He smiled against the skin of her lower belly as he rubbed his second-day stubble on her flesh, delighting in more arousal-laden tittering. The amount of play and laughter in their newly-blossomed sex life had surprised him; someone who was generally as serious and task-focused as Scully didn’t strike him as the type to make a joke while he was breathlessly driving himself as far into her tiny body as he could get, but she did, and often. He nipped at the hem of her panties, snapping the elastic with his teeth, then ran his nose down the damp gusset of the thin fabric, smelling her arousal. He wanted desperately to taste her. Tentatively, he ran his tongue along the seam of her thigh, slipping millimeters into her panties. His hopes were dashed, yet again, when he felt her hands on the sides of his face, pulling him up.

“Come here, Mulder,” she breathed in an intimate whisper. “I want you here.”

After they had each found their release and lie sated and sweat-damp on her bed, his head resting on one of her small breasts as though it were a pillow, he surveyed her face to gage her openness to a real conversation.

“Scully, can I ask you something?” He queried.

“You just did, “she replied smartly, brushing her fingers over his scalp with a content smirk on her lips.

“Har har,” he said with a sarcastic roll of his eyes. “I can’t help but notice that you don’t seem to want me to, shall we say, go down under.” He lifted his eyebrows and tipped his head back slightly to indicate he was referring to the lower half of her body.

“‘Go down under,’ Mulder? I assume we’re not talking about a trip to Australia here?” She was making light, but he caught the slight tensing of her body when he’d mentioned it.

“Okay, if euphemisms are unwelcome, let me clarify that I’m talking about me putting my mouth on your vagina.” He punctuated the statement with a haughty little smile as her eyes briefly went big before she composed herself.

“I think you mean vulva, Mulder. The vagina is just the opening and pathway to the uterus. The vulva is everything external, including the labia majora and minora, and the clitoris.” She was averting her eyes to where her fingers were trailing down his upper arm, hiding behind facts and definitions. Had anyone else witnessed this conversation, they would not detect that she was deeply uncomfortable. Mulder knew better.

“Thank you for the anatomy lesson, Dr. Scully. But that begs the question of why you won’t let me go down on you.” He worked to keep his expression soft and open, without judgment or expectation.

She met his eye and shrugged, pushing her chin into a pout concurrently. “I’m just not a fan. Is that a problem?”

“No, not a problem per se. If you truly don’t like it I can accept that, but I can’t help but wonder if you actually don’t like it, or if you’re just not comfortable with it.” He had picked up her hand after she dropped it from his arm and was brushing his thumb over her palm. He wanted to maintain connection, to communicate that this was wasn’t meant to be confrontational. He just wanted to understand her.

She inhaled deeply and let the air stream out through puffed lips. “I suppose I would say the former, because of the latter.”

“So you’ve done it before?” He clarified. “Or experienced it, more accurately.”

She peered at him from under her eyelashes, a look of slight annoyance on her face. “Yes, Mulder,” she said as though it were the most obvious answer possible.

“And you didn’t like it?”

She sighed again, growing tired of the conversation. “I’ve just never been able to…get out of my own head, I guess. It’s just awkward, and I find it difficult not to think about what my partner is thinking or experiencing.” She picked at a patch of lint on the comforter. “I’ve honestly never enjoyed it so I’d rather just skip it.”

He absorbed this information, to which he had numerous rebuttals, but he knew that it wasn’t something he could or should push her on. “I respect that decision,” he started, “but I also think you should know, just so you’re armed with all relevant information, that I’m really good at it. Like, REALLY good.”

She smiled sadly at him. “I don’t doubt that, Mulder. But the fact remains that I could make you the best rhubarb pie on Earth and you still wouldn’t like it, because you hate rhubarb.”

He shifted so that he was lying on his side facing her, propped up on one elbow.

“Or have I only ever had shitty, underripe rhubarb? I’d have to try it to know for sure.”

“Mulder.” Her tone carried warning that he was taking it too far.

“Okay, okay. Just one more thing and then I promise to let it go.” He lifted his free hand and placed it gently on her thigh so that his thumb was resting just beside the cleft of her sex. “What if I told you that in all the times that I fantasized about being with you, which were very frequent by the way, that the thing I thought about the most was going down on you?” He swept his thumb lightly back and forth, a whisper of a touch near her clit.

“Then I would tell you that I’m deeply sorry for your loss,” she replied, bringing her hands to his face and pulling him towards her for a kiss, at the same time letting her legs fall open so he could explore her with his fingers. That much, she would happily permit.

******************************************

Autumn had arrived in full swing, the yellowing leaves and chilly air sending them into hiding beneath wooly blankets, favoring her place for the availability of a fireplace to keep them warm. It was here that they sat on a lazy Sunday afternoon, steaming coffee cups wafting up to their kiss-swollen lips after a morning of lovemaking.

“It’s almost your birthday, Mulder,” Scully remarked, “What do you want to do?”

He shrugged. “Nothing. You know I’m not a big birthday fan. For myself, anyway.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I know, but that’s because no one ever made any effort to make your birthday special. I’d like to change that, if you’ll let me.”

“I don’t want you to put a bunch of effort into it, Scully. It’s just another day, it doesn’t need to be a big deal.”

She set her mug on the coffee table and then took his, doing the same. She wrapped his cup-warmed hands in hers and looked at him with tender affection.

“It IS a big deal, Mulder. I’m certainly grateful that you were born.” He smiled sheepishly and looked at his lap, uncomfortable with such unabashed praise. “I really want to do this for you. Think of something you’ve always wanted to do but never have, and we’ll do it together. It would mean a lot to me.”

He met her eye and felt his heart swell at how open and genuine she looked. “Okay, I’ll think about it,” he finally said, and she smiled victoriously as she retrieved his cup for him.

*******************************************

“I figured out what I want to do for my birthday.” He announced. It was October 10th, and she’d reminded him a few times that she would need at least a little bit of notice to make arrangements, depending on what he decided on doing.

“Oh good!” She exclaimed, setting the file she’d been reading on his coffee table so she could give him her full attention. “What is it?” She sat at the far end of the couch with her back against the arm rest, legs crossed.

He felt nervous, knowing that he had to do this just right or it wouldn’t work. “It’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time, years actually, but I’m not sure you’ll want to do it with me.” He rubbed his palms on the tops of his thighs. “Actually, never mind.” He picked up another file and opened it in his lap.

Scully stood and moved to sit right beside him, one leg folded under her so that she was facing him, and took the file from his hands. “Tell me, Mulder.”

He fought off the smirk that tugged at his mouth. “Before I tell you, do you promise you’ll do it, even if you aren’t exactly excited about it?”

“Of course,” she said emphatically, her eyebrows stitched in concern as she folded her diminutive hands around his own. He felt a little guilty, but not enough to stop. “It’s your birthday, and I’d really like to do whatever it is that would make it special for you. It doesn’t matter whether I enjoy it, as long as you do.”

“Okay,” he said, beginning to lose the battle to maintain a neutral expression, which contorted his face into an odd grimace. He looked at her and bit his lip. “What I really want for my birthday, more than anything in the world, is for you to let me go down on you.”

Her eyes widened and then narrowed as she let go of his hands and sucker-punched him on the upper arm. “Mulder!” Her mouth dropped open in a mix of surprise and amusement. “That isn’t fair, you tricked me!”

“I did not, everything I said was completely true and honest. I have been wanting to do this for years, it’s all I want for my birthday, Scully.”

She shook her head at him ruefully, but there was a soft smile on her mouth. “I’ll give you three minutes, Mulder, and that’s it.”

“Deal,” he replied, extending his hand in an offer to shake on it. He had the good sense not to tell her how confident he was that she would be begging him not to stop when those three minutes were up.

******************************************

At the time she agreed to his birthday gift, it had been four days since they’d last had sex, and he artfully avoided being in a position for them to be intimate for the following three. Part of his plan, which was exceedingly well thought out, involved her being as turned on as possible when he finally touched her. He picked up her favorite red wine and made sure she had the opportunity go home after work before he came over, in case being able to take a shower or bath was something she’d want to do, not that he cared. He just wanted her to be as comfortable as possible, part of which included being in her own apartment.

His own excitement was palpable, his cock twitching at the idea of tasting her as he knocked on her door, bottle of wine in hand. When she answered in a knee length grey dress, the apartment abnormally warm with a fire blazing, he failed to suppress the grin that spread across his face. Easy access was all he thought, and he was hoping she had the same thing in mind.

“Happy Birthday, you bastard,” she crooned, pulling him through the door and pushing on to her tip toes to kiss him.

“Why thank you,” he returned, pulling back and holding up the wine. “I brought you something.”

Taking it from him, she walked to the kitchen and set it next to an already open bottle. “I’m two steps ahead of you,” she replied, pouring him a glass after she drained her own.

He joined her by the counter, setting their glasses to the side and gripping her by the hips to lift her up on to it. Stepping close to occupy the space between her thighs, he brought his hands to her face and tipped it up until she was looking at him. “You know you don’t ever have to do anything with me you don’t want to, right? No matter how much I want this, if you’re not into it, we won’t.”

She nodded. “I know. But I’ve made up my mind. I think I can withstand three minutes of something mildly uncomfortable for the sake of all your birthday dreams coming true.”

He smiled warmly at her. “Okay. But just so you know, my plan is that it’s slightly better than tolerable.”

She chuffed a laugh and he kissed her, a slow languid kiss that morphed into the slip of a tongue, and then the grip of a hip, until finally they were making out on her kitchen counter as he tugged her pelvis against his own, grinding into her as she hummed with desire.

He hadn’t expected them to get right to business so quickly, but he was more than happy to initiate phase one of the plan; torture her until she was practically begging to be touched. Slipping his hands under her ass, he lifted her off the counter and carried her into her bedroom, placing her gingerly in the center of the bed. He kissed down her throat, his lips brushing over the sensitive spot beneath her ear and sucking gently at the juncture of her shoulder. Feeling for the zipper at her back, he peeled it down and then pushed it from her shoulders to get at her breasts. She’d skipped a bra, and he circled her nipples with his tongue before flicking at the hardened buds. She flexed her hips, moaning softly, and he trailed his hand up her inner thigh to cup her lightly over her dampening panties; not enough pressure to relieve her need, but enough to drive her crazy with want. He moved between her mouth, neck, chest and breasts, licking and sucking as he simultaneously teased his hands around the edges of her panties, brushing close but never touching her clit. Finally he peeled her panties off and lifted her dress over her head, leaving her naked and aching before he resumed the same pattern on her bare skin. His fingertip danced at her opening, placing a hint of pressure but never going inside. He fluttered over her inner lips, hovering just above her clit and she squirmed, biting his lips and whimpering. She was incredibly wet, which allowed him to slide over and around her effortlessly with almost no pressure. This went on for a deliciously long time, until she arched her back abruptly in an attempt to force more contact and then moaned in frustration when he pulled his hand away.

He moved quickly, not wanting to give her time to pull herself out of the moment with self-conscious thoughts. Moving to the end of the bed, he shucked off his shirt and then gripped the top of her thighs and pulled her down to where he was kneeling before her. He hoped that in the future he’d have the opportunity to look and explore and taste her slowly, taking his time, but in this circumstance he instead immediately brought his lips to her swollen, aching clit and sucked it softly, fluttering the pointed tip of his tongue across it as his eyes darted to her bedside clock and took note of the time.

She sucked air into her lungs audibly, her chest rising and obscuring her face as a single, piercing “Oh” escaped her lips. He proceeded to devour her, dipping his tongue into the liquid pool of her entrance and tasting her sweet and slick, running up her seam and to her clit, when he felt her hand on the back of his head. Dismayed, he thought this was the point where she would ask him to stop, and he would without question if she asked him to. But when he glanced up he saw that her eyes were closed, her face contorted into an expression of absolute ecstasy as her other hand gripped her breast tightly and pinched at her nipple. Encouraged, he swirled his tongue around her sporadically throbbing bud and let his ears delight in the sounds of her pleasure, knowing that she was close. When her panting became quick and rhythmic, he slipped two fingers inside her and flexed them against her front wall, and she cried out in a mix of surprise and relief as he felt her clench around him, spasming under his tongue as she dripped down his chin and his wrist, wetter than he had imagined possible. He continued, slowing only as she did, pulling from her each pulse her body had to offer, not letting her miss out on a moment of it. When she shifted her hips away from him he removed his fingers and placed one last kiss to the inside of her thigh before he crawled up the bed to find her with her eyes closed, breath still quick as she returned to Earth.

“Hey Scully,” he whispered into her neck.

“Mmhmm,” she replied, eyes still closed.

“I still have 30 seconds left on the clock. You wanna go again?”

She snorted. “Happy Birthday, Mulder.”

“Thank you. Hey Scully?”

“Yes?”

“I think you liked my present.”

She opened her eyes and turned to look at him, pupils the size of saucers, a sated smile on her lips.

“That I did.”

Tagging @today-in-fic thanks!

#dana scully #fox mulder #the x files #txf #gillovny #msr #sculder #xf fanfic