#just realizing I didn’t color his buckle….. but it’s okay <3

[shepscapades]

[dbhc flavored] Hermit a Day May: Day 9 — Skizz!

Featuring his awful poe poe fit <3333

#LOVE ME A SKIZZLEMAN!!!!!! #hermitaday #hermitadaymay #skizzleman #skizz #dbhc #dbhc art #dbhc skizz #art escapades #something soooo so so wrong with him and I’m obsessed with him for it <333333 #I was planning on doing a piece with him and scar and their uniforms but idk if I’ll finish it so #I’m getting my horrible outfit doodles out now XD #just realizing I didn’t color his buckle….. but it’s okay <3 #there’s destruction to be colored #hermitcraft #hermitcraft au #hermitcraft skizzleman

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

On thin ice (Hockey player! Miguel O’Hara x Figure skater! Fem! Reader)

A/N: im using one of my fav writing tropes for this chapter, so it’s gonna be a bit longer Lmaoo. the usual, not proofread so excuse grammatical errors or spelling mistakes, Miguel might be ooc.

(Y/N)- Your name, (f/c)- favorite color.

drinking/ alcohol use, mentions of sex/sexual topics (no smut, but light NSFW)

Word count: 2.1k

Series Masterlist

Chapter 5: Have you no idea that you’re in deep?

—

“You suck ass at beer pong Miguel.”

“And you suck ass.” Miguel said back to Peter with a smirk, taking a sip of his Modelo.

He sighed before tossing another white ping pong ball into the direction of a group of red solo cups, once again missing, the ball bouncing off the rim of a cup and landing on the floor instead. “Pinche- that’s it, I’m done. I’m not getting alcohol poisoning tonight.” Miguel grumbled before walking away from the table, despite Peter’s protests, and into the crowd of sweaty and drunk college students. It’s currently Saturday night and Miguel was at some random party on frat row, he couldn’t remember which frat it was. It didn’t really matter for him though, since he was on the hockey team and the captain of said team, he didn’t have to worry about getting in. Miguel was in a pretty good mood despite not having talked to you since the incident in front of the arena two weeks ago, it’s hard not to be in a good mood when they had absolutely crushed last night’s game, having won 5 to 3.

He walked without any real destination, taking another sip of his bottle, finishing it off before setting the now empty bottle onto of a random coffee table, he wasn’t drunk drunk, but his feet were stumbling a bit as he attempted to walk in a straight line. He had found himself in a random bathroom, deciding why not “reveal” himself while he was there, after handling his business, he re-zipped his jeans and fastened his belt buckle. In his drunken state, Miguel didn’t even realize he had forgotten to lock the door to the bathroom, it wasn’t until he was in the middle of washing his hands did he noticed, because he heard the noise of the doorknob turning and the door opening.

“I’ll be just a minute Kate!-“

“Someone’s in here-“

Miguel’s words took longer to process due to the tequila in your system, so your hand had already closed and locked the bathroom door and you were in the middle of turning your body to walk further into the bathroom, your body only finally stopping when you were now face to face with Miguel. Both of you falling into a silence as you stared at each other, neither one daring to move, it felt like you were almost frozen in time for hours, when, in reality it’s only been about 10 seconds. After a few seconds you blinked out of your trance like state, Miguel clearing his throat as you rub the back of your neck.

“Sorr-“ You both started at the same time again, before stopping and attempting to apologize again, only to speak at the same time once more, causing you to began to laugh at the situation. Your head tilting back, a hand going up to your chest, Miguel thought you looked like an Angel while laughing, also let out a small chuckle, but his was more awkward, suddenly aware of the fact that last time he saw you was not a good experience. Or, rather *any* of you encounters with Miguel weren’t a good experience.

“Sorry. I guess I forgot to lock the door.” Miguel says with a small (albeit embarrassed) smile, as he moves to turn the water off and dry his hands of a small dark blue hand towel that was hanging next to the sink. You quickly bring your hand up and dismiss his apology with a wave.

“No-no it’s okay! It’s not a big deal.” You tried to assure him, a small chuckle leaving your lips, Miguel couldn’t tell if the slight blush on your face was from the alcohol you’ve been downing or from the situation. “ Did you need me to leave or…” your question trailed off.

Miguel caught your drift and quickly shook his head. “No, no I was just about done, I’ll let you… erm… yeah.” He finished with a small chuckle, feeling more relaxed seeing a way out of this somewhat awkward encounter, he mumbled a small “excuse me.” As he goes to walk past you and towards the door, you had to turn to your side so you and him could switch positions, and his hand went to lightly grab your hip in an attempt to keep him or you from falling as he squeezes past you. The sudden touch caught you off guard slightly, but you didn’t say anything about it. Not thinking much of it or the way your heart skipped a beat during it. Once he passed you, and begrudgingly let go of your hip, he goes to unlock the door and turn the bathroom doorknob, but when he went to pull the door, it wouldn’t budge. So he tried again, harder this time. Then again… and still nothing. You just watched with a confused expression, your head tilting to the side as you fiddled with the hem of your (f/c) dress. You began to shift your weight back and forth on your feet as you felt your discomfort grow from all the alcohol you drank tonight that you needed to release, your heels making a little clink with each step.

“What’s wrong?” You asked after his 3rd attempt to open the door, Miguel finally dropped his hands with a heavy sigh, turning to face you, his hand coming up to his chin before he finally replies.

“We’re stuck.”

“What?”

“The lock jammed.” He sighed as he rubbed his face with his hand.

“You’re kidding…” you groaned as you moved pass him again and wiggled the door in an attempt to get it to open, but you quickly realized it was, in fact, jammed. “Ugh, fuck. Kate has my phone…” you whined as you turned your back and leaned against the door, as you look up at Miguel.

He lets out a sigh, and dropped his hands down to his jean pockets, “it’s alright, I’ll call Peter.” He said before finding which pocket his phone in, going to turn it on, only to realize it was dead, “or not…” he grumbled as he drops his hand with his phone back to his side, while the free one runs through his slicked back hair, a heavy sigh leaving his lips.

“So we’re stuck in here?” You asked in disbelief, but before he could answer you had turn back to face the door and begain to bang on the door in hopes that someone will hear you. “HELLO?! IS SOMEONE THERE!? WERE STUCK IN HERE!!” Miguel quickly pulled you away from the door.

“Woah, woah Princesa, you’re gonna break down the door, calm down, I’m sure someone will notice we’re gone, or someone will try and come use the bathroom and will get help.” Miguel said in a calm manner as he tried to calm you down, you just took a deep breath and nodded your head. Moving past him so he was closer to the door again.

After a few moments of silence, you spoke once more. “Miguel?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you do me a favor…”

“Sure ice princess.”

“Can you… turn around and cover your ears?”

He gave you a puzzled look, “…why?”

“…erm… I have to pee still…”

—

At first, you two sat in awkward silence, you sat on the edge of the bathroom sink, while Miguel sits on the edge of the bathtub across from you, avoiding eye contact, and the silent only being broken from the occasional clearing of the throat or the shuffling of clothes as one of you two would shift your sitting positions, until you suddenly spoke up, your eyes lighting up slightly. “Hey Miguel,” you say with a smile, before digging your hand in between your cleavage of your dress, Miguel looked away to hid his light blush that was beginning to spread on his cheeks. “want a shot?” You asked with a smirk, before pulling out two small mini bottles of Patron silver that you had hiding in your dress, putting your hand out offering him one.

Miguel just looked at you with a raised brow for a second, before shrugging his shoulder, “fuck it… why not.” He mirrored your smirk as he takes one of the bottles from your hand. Once he grabs it, you pull your hand back, both of you opening the mini bottles, giving each other a “salute” as you both tap the bottles together before downing the shots. Your face cringes slightly as the burning sensation goes down your throat, wishing you had a lime to help.

—

“Okay..okay…” you say after getting your self to stop giggling, “would you rather… erm… oh! I know! Would you rather have to only play hockey in your Pjs for the rest of the season, or walk in on Peter and MJ making out?” You asked with a smile as you rest your elbows on your knees, and your chin in the palm of you hands.

“Well… considering I only sleep in my briefs, and I’ve already walked in on them making out, I guess I would be okay having to do it again.” Miguel replied with a chuckle as he looks up at you from your place on the sink. This was the most you two have gotten along without bickering, and it was odd but also… nice?

“Okay your turn.” You say to him, as your swung your feet a bit, your heels lightly hitting the cabinet underneath the sink.

“Okay, um… would you rather, get back with your ex, or tell the last person you’ve had a sexual dream about, that you had a wet dream about them?” He asked with a small smirk, and the question made you freeze up a bit. Why? Well… because unfortunately, that person was the one that was 5 feet away from you, that same person who you were locked in a bathroom with, that person… was Miguel O’Hara. It’s not like you had that dream on purpose, and it’s not like you didn’t enjoy it, but you wouldn’t admit it, it was simply a dream, it had no meaning behind it. It wasn’t like you actually wanted to know what it would be like to be underneath the hockey player, it wasn’t like you actually wanted to see how quickly he could break and tear you down to nothing but a shaking sobbing mess. Nothing but incoherent babbles and whines leaving your mouth, tears of pleasure streaming down your face as you begged for more, begged for more of him, “more Miguel! Ple-please… I-I need you so bad- I need your-“

“(Y/N)?” Miguel’s voice quickly snapped you back into reality, giving you a questionable look, you quickly clear your throat, ignoring the heat rising to your face and the slight ache that forms between your thighs, before speaking.

“Erm… can’t I say neither ?” You asked, your shoulders going up in a slight shrug. Miguel quickly shook his head and stood up, taking a small step towards you.

“Nope, you gotta pick one.” He said with a sly smirk, his arms crossing in front of his chest.

You let out a sigh, you really, really hated your ex, so you answered with a heavy sigh, “… the second one…” you mumbled as you looked away to avoid eye contact. The sudden shift of your behavior didn’t go unnoticed by Miguel, he takes another step towards you, now just a few inches right infront of you, if he takes just one more step, you would have to separate your legs to make room for him.

“What’s wrong ice princess?” He asked in a low, almost teasing tone, as he brings his hand up to gently cup your cheek, before moving your face back to look at him, your face began to feel fleshed from the sudden intimate move. Your eyes widened slightly as you look up at Miguel, his eyes were half-lidded, and they’re was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite make out. “Got something you needa get off your chest…” he mumbled in the same low tone as he leans in a bit, your breath hitches and your heart rate increases as you were now nose to nose.

“Miguel…” you said bearly above a whisper, you weren’t sure what you were even going to say.

“Yes?”

“What…” you trailed off again when you start to feel his hot breath began to fan your lips, if he just moved a little bit closer-

“Miguel! (Y/N!)” Peter’s shouts through the door quickly make Miguel pull away from you, pulling away just in time before the bathroom door opens, being faced with Peter and your dorm mate Kate. Luckily, Miguel took enough steps back so you two weren’t in a suspicious position.

“Jesus. Finally.” You mumbled before hopping off the counter, pushing past Peter and grabbing Kate’s hand, dragging her out of the frat house, back to your dorm and far away from Miguel.

—

Taglist: @tayleighuh @cowboylikeevie @coralineyouareinterribledanger @jukioku @loser-alert @migueloharaspookiebear @serpentstarr @littlexscarletxwitch

#miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o hara fanfic #on thin ice fanfic #astv miguel #astv spiderman 2099 #figure skating au #hockey au #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #astv #miguel o’hara au #spiderman 2099 fanfic #spiderman 2099

[littlepurpleunicorns]

Agere writing thing lol. Normally I wouldn’t post on this account, but it was already typed and color coded, and I don’t feel like retyping it.

Grocery Trip

OCs:

Crystal, She/Her, Caregiver

Lewis, He/They, Little

Heads up, these characters are angels, so they have wings.

Don’t make fun of me please.

Story under the cut <3

Crystal grabbed her purse and turned to stand at the door. 

“C’mon Lewis, if you wanna go to the store we need to leave now before they close.” 

Lewis tugged at his jacket, trying to get it on just right to cover their wings. They’d been hurt years back, and they didn’t look nice anymore. The jacket however, was being a pain, and Lewis had been fighting off the urge to slip all day, and this was not at all helping. 

“You okay?” Crystal asked him. 

Lewis nodded, stumbling down the hall slightly. He knew he was going to need help, but didn’t want to say anything. They weren’t sure they could say anything even if he wanted to. 

Crystal picked up on it quickly. Lewis had been so stressed lately trying to get accepted into a school. It was only natural, she figured. She expected it, and was ready for him. 

“Lewis, do you need help?”

He paused with the jacket, slightly glancing up at her. Being shorter than Crystal did not help him shake the small feeling. Could she tell?

They nodded, and Crystal came to help him fit the jacket on just right. 

“How’s that?”

“Good..” he mumbled. 

“Are you alright?” 

He hummed slightly. He didn’t want to say it.

“Lewis?”

“I.. Mm..” He held out his hand to Crystal, who took it. 

“You’re feeling small, aren’t you?”

They nodded hesitantly, and Crystal kissed his forehead. 

“You’re alright baby. You still wanna come to the store with me?”

“Mhm-“

“Alright. Let’s get you to the car then. Do you want up?”

He nodded again and Crystal held him. Being held seemed to make him sleepy, but he wasn’t going to sleep.

She carried them to the car and buckled him into the passengers seat. He didn’t want to talk much. She wondered if they were more anxious about school than she’d realized. 

Lewis watched out his window on the way to the store. The sky looked nice today. He knew he couldn’t fly anymore, but today still would’ve been a great day for flying. He had to appreciate that.

He watched the clouds as they drove. His eyes seemed to feel heavier but didn’t dare let them close. They were going to the store, and that was supposed to be fun. He didn’t want to miss it. 

They parked and got out of the car, and Crystal held Lewis’s hand through the parking lot. 

She grabbed a cart and put her purse in the baby seat. Lewis wouldn’t have been able to fit there, but he might have wanted to be in the bigger part, which she asked him. 

He did, but it would look weird in public. Especially if he fell asleep. They didn’t want to fall asleep in the cart. 

So he shook his head, and Crystal had them hold onto the carts handle so he didn’t get lost. 

Lewis looked around at all the people and things to see. He tried to count people with black hair, thinking something to focus on would make him less tired. 

Crystal went through their list, putting things into the cart and asking Lewis for his opinions. 

“What flavor pop tart do you want?”

He pointed to the blueberry ones, and she put them in the cart.

“Do we need more juice?”

He shook his head. “Has a lil bit.”

“Maybe we should get some anyway.” She smiled.

Lewis nodded and went back to looking at boxes of food. He spotted goldfish, crackers, and cookies.

Oh, he definitely needed cookies. 

They wandered to the other end of the aisle to grab a box. Chocolate chip, only his favorite. 

“Lewis?” He heard Crystal from down the aisle.  

He looked up and watched Crystal look around in a panic, finally spotting him and rushing to his side. 

“You can’t wander off like that honey. I told you to keep your hand on the cart.”

He gave her an apologetic look, and shyly held up the cookies he’d pulled off the shelf. 

“Oh, I see. Next time maybe tell me first?”

“Busy.” He told her, and when she looked confused, he pointed to the grocery list still in her hands. 

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m never too busy for you though. You can still tell me.” 

He nodded and held the cookies up more. 

She sighed and smiled lightly. “If you want them, sure, you can have them.”

He smiled and put the cookies in the cart, then put his hand back where Crystal had told him. 

They proceeded with the shopping trip, Lewis beginning to struggle against his tiredness again. He’s counted nine people with black hair. Maybe ten, they weren’t sure. He was tired, and it didn’t help that he didn’t know his numbers very well in this mindset. 

He turned to Crystal and slightly tugged her sleeve. They wanted to be carried, or to sit in the cart, or rather, they just wanted sleep. If only they were home where they could nap without people staring. 

“What’s the matter?”

He didn’t know what he wanted to ask, really. He was hoping Crystal would just know, but she didn’t. So he looked up at her with a pout since he had no words to say what they wanted.

“Do you want up?”

He shook his head.

“Do you wanna look at toys before we go?”

He shook his head again.

If anything, he’d prefer to go home with something to chew on, or maybe a new blanket. They didn’t feel like toys. Not today.

“Can you use your words? I don’t know what you’re wanting.”

He didn’t have words. All he had was pouts and whining and heavy eyes. 

They felt like crying but he refused to do so. Not at the store. Not with the lady down the aisle who would be watching them if they did. Not here. 

“C’mere honey, it’s okay,” She hugged him and lightly pet his hair. “Are you hurt, or something else?”

He shook his head. He was just sleepy. So so sleepy. They leaned against her and let her gentle fingers comb through their hair. 

Crystal picked him up and held him close, carefully swaying him to calm him down a little more. It felt so nice. Comfort replaced any distress he felt before as he clung onto her. 

This was it. This was definitely what he was wanting. He wrapped his arms around her as she smiled, finally able to calm them down. 

“All better?”

He nodded, then glanced at a teenage boy who turned the corner into their isle. 

Everything he tried to say came out as small babbles, but he tried none the less, pointing to the boy shyly to try and explain.

“Are you nervous about the people?”

They nodded. Nervous. That’s about right.

“I think you might be too small to worry about that. I can handle it for you, okay? I’m sorry honey, I didn’t think this though.” 

He nodded to accept her apology, and she smiled. 

“Then again, I also didn’t think I’d have a little baby on this grocery trip.” She teased.

He mumbled little sounds of protest to her as she laughed and kissed his forehead.

“Alright alright. Not a little baby. Though we need to figure something out for you, cause I can’t push the cart while I carry you. I can put you in the cart maybe?”

He glanced at it and nodded. Crystal would take care of the people. She was right. He was too little to worry.

So she set them down and moved the groceries to make room for them, then she lifted him up into the basket where he curled up for his nap. 

“Such a cutie, aren’t you?” Crystal smiled, pushing the cart to its next destination. 

He mumbled slightly before his eyes fell closed, dreams finally flooding to his sleepy little mind. 

#sfw agere #agere writing

[goldnn-harry]

Can we get some more singledadrry? ❤️

ofc! not sure if you wanted just singledadrry or a little bit of romance included like in my last fic, but i went with just singledadrry :) i could always make a part 2 with romance in it so lmk!

“no daddy the other one looks better!”

harry laughed, “ this one?” he held up the pink outfit he had just tried on.

“yes! it's shinier,” daisy, his 3 year old daughter, said.

he smiled. “do you like shiny a lot?”

daisy grinned and nodded.

“then i guess we'll go with the pink. and i'll also make sure a lot of the other outfits are shiny too.” harry was having a fitting for his upcoming tour. he had already seen many sketches for his outfits, but this was the first time trying them on.

right now he was choosing one for the first show.

“what about this one?” he did a little twirl, modeling some cream color pants with a white and blue stripped shirt, and some red suspenders.

daisy giggled, “daddy you look like miranda from youtube!”

harry laughed and gasped in fake hurt. “alright come here.” he grabbed her and kissed all over her face, earning loud giggles from her.

“stop it daddy!” daisy squirmed in his arms, giggling.

harry chuckled and set her down. “do i really look like miranda?”

the three year old giggled again. “you don't look like her, its just the outfit! but i still like it,”

harry smiled. “then we'll keep it.”

she nodded, “can we go eat now?”

“just a bit more. i'm almost done bunny,”

daisy pouted but nodded. harry had taught her manners very well, and she didn't mind waiting a bit more.

but ten quick minutes soon turned into two hours, and by the time harry was done daisy was fast asleep.

harry smiled down at her and gently picked her up. he walked to the car with her, buckling her up in her carseat gently, and then getting in the driver seat.

he glanced at daisy one more time and started driving.

once at home, he looked through the rear view mirror. it was a bit surprising to see daisy asleep still, since she usually woke up before they got home.

none the less, harry got out of the car and very carefully took daisy out of the carseat.

once they were almost inside, harry heard very quiet giggles coming from the young girl. he couldn't help but smile as he realized she had been faking sleeping so harry would carry her.

“oh you little trickster. were you faking it this whole time?”

daisy laughed, “you believed it!”

harry grinned and kissed her cheeks, “yes i did!” he smiled, “are you ready for a bath?”

she nodded, “i'm tired,”

“how so? you just napped baby,”

daisy shrugged and cuddled closer into harry's chest. harry frowned as he felt the heat of her forehead against him. “is your nose stuffy or anything?” he asked, while pressing the back of his hand to her warm forehead.

“a little bit i think,”

he nodded. “alright, i'll give you a warm bath and then you can nap. i'm pretty sure you have a cold so you can sleep it off,” he smiled gently and set her in the tub after he filled it up.

harry gave her a warm bath, making it quick so she wouldn't be in the water for long, and because she wasn't a huge fan of baths.

after he finished he dressed her up and tucked her in. “i'm gonna get you some medicine and i'll be back alright?”

she yawned and nodded. “can i go with you please?”

he smiles, “of course.” harry picked her back up and walked to the kitchen.

he serve a bit of medicine in a cup and grabbed a cookie for her.

“ready?”

“smells yucky,” she wrinkled her nose.

“i know baby. but you need to get better alright? you'll probably just drink it today anyways. and look, you can eat a cookie to wash it down.”

“okay..” she mumbled. she took the cup from harry and drank. her face contorted in disgust as she forced herself to drink it. she quickly grabbed the cookie from harry, munching on it to get rid of the taste.

harry chuckled, “alright, let's brush your teeth. it'll completely get rid of the taste.”

she nodded eagerly. harry walked to the bathroom and set her on the counter. he gently brushed her teeth, making sure to get all the left overs of the cookies off.

he helped her rinse her mouth and then took her back to bed. after tucking her in, daisy asked him to read her a bedtime to story. harry complied (of course) and read another chapter of the fairytale they were currently in the middle of.

“alright bunny. time for bed now,” he kissed her forehead and smiled.

“night daddy,” she mumbled, already falling asleep.

“good night,” harry smiled and walked out of her room.

he couldn't think of a greater blessing than the one of being a father.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #single dad!harry #single!harry #singer!harry #harry being a dad #dad!harry #i love harry so much #i love harry styles #harry and oc daughter #harry styles is a dad #harry styles is an angel #harry styles is a loving dad #soft!harry #harry styles fic rec

[cades-outsider]

Robby Keene X Reader

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, drinking

Cheater?

Your day wasn't going to well, first your car broke down- turns out you got a nail stuck in your tire- which left you late for school, so you had to call someone to help you and luckily your boyfriend Robby knew just the person which happened to be Daniel since he knew about cars.

Then if not to make matters worse some random person ran into you at lunch causing all of the contents to be spilled onto you. Though he apologized immensely it did not help the fact that half the school was laughing at you, plus it was your favorite shirt that got ruined.

Oh you think we're done? Nope not here- then your teacher informed you that you failed your quiz with a 67%. Great isn't it? So you had to retake the quiz and pass or get held back for the school year since summer was only one week away.

Which led to you having to study the whole weekend- well almost. Moon had another one of her party's except this time it was a week summer party which indicated that summer was only a week around the corner.

So you only got about 3-4 hours to study, eh not bad but not good either especially if you wanted to pass the grade and not look like a fool in front of yourself and everyone.

You slipped on your favorite glittery colored dress along with your heels and a light matched jacket to go over the dress. You were picking up Robby from his apartment since it was close to night and he didn't have a car yet.

  The drive didn't take to long before coming in vision with Robby's complex building. Robby was already waiting by the concrete stand, scrolling on his phone.

  Once he sees your car come into view he smiles and slips his phone I his back pocket before rushing up to the door and sliding in, giving you a gently peck that seems to last longer than a second.

  "Hey baby" Robby greets as he closes the door and buckles his seatbelt on.

  "Hi love, are you ready to go?" You question, making sure.

  He nods his head, placing his hand on your knee rubbing gently with the pad of his thumb "i am. You look... beautiful as always" A slight tent of red dusts over his cheeks.

  "Thank you baby, you look handsome as always" You compliment as you start heading to Moons house.

  The car ride consisted of you both blasting your favorite playlists and Robby constantly complimenting you literally after every second.

  A couple minutes later you arrived at Moons house, people already scattered over the back yard with drinks, blaring music, and different colored lights.

  Taking the keys out of the ignition you step out of your car along with Robby, walking hand in hand to the entrance Moon spots you and runs up to you both.

  "Heyyy guys I'm so glad you could make it!" She slurs before going back to her girlfriend, Piper.

  "Well... that didn't last long" Robby jokes sarcastically.

  You smile at his joke as you spot Sam and Miguel, you tug Robby towards their direction "hey guys" You motion as Sam pulls you into a tight hug.

  "Hey Y/n, Robby" Miguel nods his head in acknowledgment, before stuffing his hands in his pockets shyly.

  "Miguel" Robby tilts his head gently, as a greeting.

  "Hey babe, I'll grab us some drinks okay?" Robby whispers in your ear kissing your neck slightly.

  "Uh I'll come to" Miguel agrees as they leave both you and Sam to talk.

  In the course of literally just 3 minutes you and Sam somehow managed to get stone cold drunk- Sam ran off to go find Moon while you started drunkly dancing until someone places their hands on your waist.

  Knowing the feeling of Robby's hands which were currently not the ones on your waist you turn around to see Hawk smirking at you "oh hey Hawk- nice to see you here" You state sarcastically.

  "Just watching you princess" He smirks cockily.

  He drags his hands around your waist more "you know I have a boyfriend right?" You chuckle at his attempts.

  "He doesn't have to know, come on I know you want me princess" He says cockily.

  "Yeah no than-" but before you could get anything else out he places his lips on yours, it took a moment for you to register before you push him off of you.

  "So this is what we're doing now?" Someone's voice rings through your ears, a voice you knew all to well.

  Your eyes widen "I- no Robby this isn't what you think-" You try but Robby just scoffs and walks away.

  "No wait-" You push Hawk off of you before running to Robby as best as you could.

  "Robby stop!" You yell causing him to stop in his tracks.

  "What? What do you want? The one person I trusted- the one person I gave the last little bit of trust to and you do this? So what is it please in lighten me" He says as a couple tears fill his eyes.

  "Robby- I didn't want it- I pushed-" Your voice cracks slightly before he interrupts you.

  "Oh save it... we're over" Robby sniffles as he walks away.

  In the matter of just 3 minutes the love of your life was gone, no where to be seen. Yeah and that's when you realized your day could only get worse, it was the cherry on top.

  You ended up passing out in your car, you couldn't drive anywhere since you were wasted so deciding to wait until morning was the only option you had.

  The next morning you woke up by your alarm clock going off, quickly shutting it off you groan opening your eyes to the blaring sun, just then you felt your head start aching- terribly bad.

  "The cherry on top" You scowl as you remember the events that took place last night.

  It was around 12 so you knew Robby was at his apartment most likely, grabbing a bottle of Advil out of your glove box for emergencies you grab the bottle of water that had been sitting in your car for a couple days and swallowed it with a scowl.

  Cranking up your car you drive to Robby's, the ride was faster than you wanted it to be considering the consequences.

  But none the less you stepped out of the car grabbing a hoodie that you had and slipped it on because of the dress you still had on.

  Walking in the building you take the elevator and wait patiently for it to open to Robby's apartment level.

  Releasing a shaky sigh you step out once the elevator opens, your soon faced with Robby's door. Hesitantly you finally knock, there's some rustling behind the door before it finally opens to reveal a tired looking Robby with puffy cheeks and bags under his eyes.

  His eyes immediately turn sour once he sees you "Robby please let me explain" You start but Robby starts to shut the door before you stop it with your hand.

  "Please" You beg.

  "Fine come in." He says harshly as he allows you to come in, shutting the door behind him.

  "What do you want?" He grits his teeth.

  "Robby I didn't kiss him last night, he kissed me and I pushed him away" You say frantically, not wanting to waist time.

  "It looked like you were enjoying it" He sasses.

  "Come on Robby you know I would never hurt you like that" You whimper, fearing this would be the last time you would be talking to him.

  "I'm afraid I don't, every one else has why won't you?" He scowls, eyes full of bitterness.

  "Because I love you- and you're a huge part of me, why would I want to destroy that?" You exclaim.

  Robby's guard comes down as his arms uncross, "how do I know I can trust you if I don't actually know what happened?" He questions his eyes soften.

  "I guess you'll just have to look into my eyes" You bite your bottom lip.

  After studying your eyes and finding no sort of lies or bad intentions he pulls you into a bone crushing hug "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" He repeats over again.

  You pull away from the hug to place a gently kiss against his before pulling away and resting your forehead against his.

  "Oh and Y/n, I love you too..."

_______________________________________________

This was requested!!!!

#wattpad #robby keene #cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai x reader #eli moskowitz x reader #hawk #tiktok #x reader #masterlist #robbykeene #robby keene x reader #robby keene x y/n #requested #request

[ginnympotter]

call it even

Chapter 2: for old times’ sake

A/N: uhhh so spoiler or whatever but this has a small amount of pretty mild smut? which i've never attempted i can't believe i'm pressing post on this thing please don't judge me lol you can also read this chapter on AO3

I’m parked between the Methodist and school.

She read the text, looked at herself in the mirror one more time, and braced herself. She took her coat off the hook and as she was zipping it up she heard her mother coming down the stairs. “Ginny, hun, are you going out?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you later,” she said, grabbing the doorknob, trying to get out as quick as she could.

But before she could walk out Molly asked, “You know Harry could have come in, right?”

She looked at her mother’s smug smile and groaned. “Goodnight, Mom,” and swung the door shut behind her.

She walked quickly two blocks down, turned right and crossed the street. It was easy to spot Harry’s old truck, not just because there were only 3 other cars parked on that road, but also because it stuck out like a sore thumb, and also was a staple in so many of their memories. She knocked on the passenger side’s window and opened the car door, hopping into the seat. She looked over at Harry to say hi, and saw him smiling. “Hey, thanks for picking me up.”

“Of course,” Harry said as she shut the door. “But why did you make me park two blocks over?”

“Because I didn’t want it to be awkward, with me staying at my parents’ house, but it didn’t even matter because my mom just knew I was going to hang out with you.”

“Molly knows all.”

“Too much.” She looked over at their old high school building, and then at the field they were parked in front of, nostalgia filling her up. “Nice parking spot.”

“It’s weird working at the school we went to. Where those bleachers are,” Harry responded. She felt a tightness in her throat, feeling both excited and uneasy that he was already bringing these types of things up. “Remember how pissed Molly was when we skipped the prom?”

“Thank God she never found us under those,” Ginny heard herself respond. She and Harry looked at one another, twin smirks on their faces. The school bleachers might not be exactly the ideal, romantic place to lose your virginity, but for them it made total sense. She collected herself before her thoughts would get her carried away. “So, um, where to? Everywhere’s closed.”

“Did you eat already?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, okay, um...maybe we could just drive around for a bit? And then head back to my place for a glass of wine?”

Memories from last year flashed in her mind. She nodded and buckled herself in silently. He started the car, the engine gave a loud and disquieting noise, and then they took off. “I cannot believe this truck is still running.”

Harry lightly tapped the dashboard. “She never lets me down.”

Ginny rolled her eyes and sniggered. She looked out the window as they drove down the roads. “Believe it or not I kind of missed this place. Has it changed at all?”

“The same as it ever was,” Harry responded. “But I know you don’t like it that way.”

His eyes were on the road but she could feel what he meant without seeing his face. “I do, sometimes,” she clarified, hoping he would hear her for what she meant. “Is Dumbledore still principal?”

“Yeah, he is,” Harry told her. “And McGonagall still teaches math.”

“You were always their favorite.”

“Dumbledore’s, maybe,” he shrugged. “But McGonagall? She still goes on about my dad. They have tea together like, once a month.”

“But McGonagall let you get away with basically everything. She was just sly about it.”

“Much to Snape’s chagrin.”

“Oh God, don’t tell me he still works there?”

“Unfortunately.” Ginny blanched, and Harry laughed in appreciation. “He was so pissed when Dumbledore hired me. I just avoid him at all costs.”

“I can’t believe you willingly accepted a job where you have to see Snape every day.”

“I know. It’s worth it, though. I really love teaching,” he said. They halted at a stop sign and he used the opportunity to look at her as he said, “You helped me realize that.”

“I was a great tutee, if I do say so myself,” she smiled. “How about the coaching bit? Did the kids ever recover from their loss?”

Harry drove them around all the backroads as he talked about coaching and working at the school. Much of the anxiety she was holding inside her had slowly melted away as they eased back into their regular rapport. Her heart felt like it doubled in size as he talked about his favorite students (though at first proclaiming, “I don’t play favorites, but…”). He asked her more about life in LA and her first year being a starter.

When they arrived at Harry’s apartment, Ginny hung up her coat and watched as Harry’s eyes not so subtly raked over her body before he turned to his cabinet and took out two wine glasses. She sat in the same spot she did the last time she was on his sofa as Harry listed off various wine options. Harry updated her on all the most recent Tupelo gossip as they drank and reminisced on the different characters they grew up with. Every time he smiled she felt a piece of her heart break, she missed seeing it so much.

Harry must’ve sensed it- or perhaps he heard the crack inside her chest- as one of those times his smile dropped to a frown as he looked at her with concern. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Ginny tried, taking the last sip of her wine and placing the glass down on the coffee table. She then noticed the People Magazine cover where she was in a little square on the top right for her interview with them last month.

She picked it up and held it in front of Harry, who suddenly turned red. “Er, I, um-” he stammered, and she laughed.

“Fred and George were just making fun of me for this yesterday at their party.”

“What’s to make fun of?” Harry asked, attempting to recover. “I think you did great.”

“Just a bit corny of a profile, I guess,” she responded. “Can I ask why you have it?”

Harry sighed, giving Ginny a very pointed look.

“What?”

“I have it because I was proud of you,” he replied carefully, taking another sip of his wine. “Is that a bad thing?”

And before she could register exactly what she was saying, the words “You could’ve texted me” flew out of her mouth.

Harry raised his eyebrows. “About the People profile?”

“Sure,” she said. Her brain telling her shut up, shut up, SHUT UP, but her mouth continued. “Or any other time before that. Or after I left this apartment after my brother’s wedding.”

Just as quickly as Harry’s face reddened before, it had now drained of all color. “I, er… I don’t-” he stopped himself, clearing his throat. “You could’ve texted me too, you know.”

“Well, why didn’t you?”

“Ginny,” he said softly, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to do this right now. Can’t we just...enjoy our time together while you’re here? Before you leave in a few days? I don’t want to fight.”

“Why didn’t you?” she repeated, more quietly this time.

“You know why,” he said defiantly, in an equally low voice.

“I don’t, actually.”

He groaned, putting his glass down next to hers before looking at her intensely. He looked tired, sad. “Because the only thing I wanted to text you was to ask you to stay. And I couldn’t ask that; it wouldn’t be right.”

She had an inkling that this would be his answer, but it still felt nice to hear him confirm it. “No, I suppose not.”

“And I wanted to text you so many times after, but… I was too afraid of what I’d say. And then too much time passed, and- I don’t know, I’m sorry, Gin.”

“Are you seeing anyone right now?”

Harry blinked, taken aback by the abrupt question. “No,” he said.

“Neither am I,” she told him, and then moved closer to him, so close that their legs touched. “You’re right, you couldn’t ask me to stay. But… how about I stay the night, and we could call it even?”

It took Harry a moment to register her proposal. When he did, he swallowed, his adam’s apple protruding against his throat. “Are...are you sure?”

She decided then to let go of her inhibitions, to act on impulse and burning desire, and placed herself on his lap facing him, her knees tightly against his hips, her hands meeting on the back of his neck, lightly scratching the bottom of his scalp. “I’m sure.”

Harry took a deep breath. “Right, then,” he mumbled, and then his lips were crashing against hers, and his arms moved her impossibly closer to him. She opened her mouth and his tongue swept atop hers; Harry moaned as he did it, as Ginny moved her fingers through his hair and pressed her chest against his. They kissed passionately, slow and hot, then fast and urgent, then slowly again. They fell back into their rhythm seamlessly.

When Ginny pulled away to kiss his neck, Harry’s voice was raspy. “Fuck,” he exhaled. She moved her tongue lightly along his collar bone, up the side of his neck, and to his ear as she ground herself more firmly on his growing erection. He groaned, moving his hands to Ginny’s ass and cupping it. “Fuck,” he repeated. “I missed this. I missed you.”

She was too stimulated to think too much about his words for too long, but nevertheless, they still caused her heart to lurch. And hearing Harry express himself- even just the slightest showing of vulnerability from him- always turned her on even more. She blew hot air on his ear, nibbled on the lobe, and then pulled away to take off his sweater. He smiled in a daze as she got the sweater off of him and discarded it. He didn’t waste another second before throwing off his T-shirt (his glasses momentarily getting caught in the process) and then doing the same to her, so he could have the next several seconds to unhook her lacy blue bra and let it drop to the floor. He leaned back and admired the view of her chest, then glanced up at Ginny before touching her. She gave a quick nod and he let himself feel her breasts in his hands again for the first time in almost a year, massaging them gently, then with more power. Ginny felt herself grow hotter just watching how Harry responded to her. He leaned in and took her right breast in his mouth, using his fingers to play with her left nipple in the way that always drove her mad. She allowed herself to enjoy it fully, moaning as she pleased, arching into him, pulling at his hair as he switched from one to the other.

Before long it was too much, and she grabbed his face and disconnected his mouth from her chest so she could kiss him again. She felt her lips tingle with the touch of his tongue, her skin burn as his hands moved to her back, running down slowly to her waistband, reaching under her pants to touch her bare ass, squeezing and spreading her cheeks gently. God, she loved when he did that. After she kissed him thoroughly enough, and her pants felt too wet to wear anymore, she moved to undo Harry’s belt buckle, which in turn encouraged him to unzip her jeans. She removed herself from him so they could remove what was left of their clothes. Seeing how hard he was for her, full and bare, made her weak in the knees yet simultaneously at her most powerful. She pushed Harry back down on the couch, let her knees give in to the floor, and cupped his balls. “Ginny-” Harry grunted, but before anything else could come out of his mouth she took him in her own, licking up his length, sucking gently as she bobbed her head up and down.

It was only around thirty seconds later that Harry stopped her, pulling her head off of him. “Wait, wait, stop-”

Immediately, she felt embarrassed. “Was that...ok?”

“Oh, God, Ginny, of course, it was more than ok, it was fucking amazing but...but I want to help you out first. Please.”

“Harry, it’s fine-”

“No, please,” he said earnestly. “I want to. I really want to.”

She let go of him and nodded wordlessly. He helped her up, laid her down on the couch, and kissed her gently. He then whispered, “Let me make you happy.”

“You always make me happy,” she whispered back. His features changed from eager to wistful. He kissed her again, much more firmly this time, and then worked his mouth from her neck along her body, over each breast, her stomach, the inside of her thighs, before he reached his final destination. Ginny closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh as he pressed his tongue up and down against her clit.

She didn’t have to think or speak or do anything; Harry knew exactly the way she liked it, no matter how much time in between their sexual activities passed, he never lost track of exactly what made her scream, what made her shake in ecstasy, as she did only a few minutes after he began. As she came down from her high, Harry kissed his way back up her body, until reaching her cheek, which he kissed delicately. “You feel good?” he asked hoarsely.

“Mm,” was all she could respond in the moment, panting from pleasure still.

He chuckled sweetly, kissing her cheek again, then her forehead, then her lips. Once her breathing had steadied somewhat, she heard him speak again. “What else do you want?”

“To fuck you,” she breathed out.

Harry moaned at her words as he pushed his tongue back into her mouth, the vibrations sending tingles down to her toes. “Do you want to move to the bedroom?”

“We can go to your bed for round two,” she told him, smiling widely. “But round one is happening right here, right now on this couch.”

“If you insist,” he said hoarsely, moving over her, wasting not another second. They had already lost enough time.

***

Behind her eyelids, Ginny could feel the light pouring into Harry’s bedroom. She felt a twinge of joy as she moved her arms to find Harry’s torso, but all she could find were the sheets. She opened her eyes and saw that his side of the bed was empty. Her stomach fell as she scanned the room for him. She sat up and heard a bit of clanging around in the kitchen. The bedroom door was half-open. She rose from the bed, opened the drawer where Harry kept his t-shirts, and threw his go-to blue tee over her head. She stepped out of his room and walked down the hall to find Harry, wearing only a pair of boxers and his glasses, his hair as messy as ever, pouring an omelet onto a plate with expert ease.

“Morning,” she said quietly.

He turned to look at her and grinned, looking her over. “Morning. Nice shirt.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you alone in there. I just wanted to make you breakfast.”

“That’s sweet, Harry.” She went to sit at the island and he waved his hands. “No, no, not here!”

“Excuse me?”

“Breakfast in bed ,” he clarified. “I’ll bring it in, you go relax, I just am finishing up on the home fries and then I’ll bring it right in.”

“You sure?”

He waved his spatula in the direction of his room. “Go on, now!”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes at him fondly before turning around and heading back down the hall. “Fine, but I’m using your bathroom first.”

“Do what you must.”

After using the toilet and brushing her teeth, she settled back into Harry’s bed and scrolled through her phone. Only a few minutes later, Harry entered with their plates, handing one to her and planting a tender kiss on her forehead. Her insides melted at the gesture. She softly thanked him, scooted over and dug in. Harry sat on his side but at the foot of the bed, his legs folded and his plate on his lap, that way he could face her. They ate in silence, exchanging occasional grins. She felt slightly distracted by his shirtless form and the way their feet touched. When she finished she handed Harry her plate. “That was delicious, thank you. Compliments to the chef.”

“My pleasure,” he told her. “I like cooking for people.”

“Perhaps if this teaching thing doesn’t work you can go to culinary school.”

“I know you’re joking, but I’d honestly consider it,” he said as he stacked their empty plates and leaned over to put them on his bedside table. He then sat beside her and grabbed her hand, interlacing their fingers. “What would you like to do today? That is, if you don’t have any other pressing plans…”

“I do have a hot date or two lined up, but I could always reschedule them for next year,” she joked.

“How kind of you,” he replied, picking up her hand and kissing it. Ginny was finding it hard to control herself with all the seemingly small, natural affection he was showing. “But really, anything in mind?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, I thought maybe we’d sleep in half the day- just for old times’ sake?”

Harry chuckled, glancing at the clock. “It’s already 10am. You want to go back to sleep?”

“Well, maybe not right away,” she said, lacking subtlety. “Thought we could do something to tire us out first.”

“Hmm,” Harry pretended to think. “What could that be?”

She grabbed him by the neck and kissed him, and he sighed, using his free hand to cup her face. After kissing each other sweetly for a minute or two, Harry let go of her hand to grab her and pull her onto his lap. He quickly realized that other than his shirt she wasn’t wearing anything else at all, moaning as he grabbed her ass. He deepened the kiss and Ginny became wrapped up in its intensity, returning it right to him, her hands wrapped up in his hair. Although her body was in the driver’s seat, her mind and heart were racing, thinking about how much this man meant to her, how much she felt like herself when she was with him, how much he made her feel like she could do anything. She cherished every second she could steal with him, before all she’d have is memories to replay until the next time, cementing the feel and the taste of him into her brain. She didn’t want it to ever end.

But not before long, Harry seemed to slow down, and then he pulled away altogether. When Ginny leaned back in to continue the kiss, he barely reciprocated.

“Harry?” she asked, breathing heavily. “Are you okay?”

He cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah, I…” He looked at her and she could see the storm of emotions in his emerald eyes. He leaned his head against hers and exhaled. “I’m fine. But...can we pause this for a moment? Can we talk?”

A wave of dread washed over her as she nodded her head and removed herself from his lap. Sensing her tension, Harry grabbed her hand again, rubbing his thumb across the back of it. “What is it?” she asked reluctantly.

He inhaled deeply, his forehead creased. “When you leave later today, I… I don’t want it to be like last time.”

“Well, that’s easy then,” Ginny told him, attempting a smile. “All you have to do is text me when I land back in L.A. this time.”

“And what would that imply, exactly?” Harry questioned. “Me texting you, that is.”

“It-” but Ginny realized she didn’t really have an answer- or, at least, she couldn’t give the answer she really wanted. “It would mean that this wasn’t just some meaningless thing to you.”

Harry frowned, tilting his head to the side slightly. “Is that what you really thought? Or what you’ll think if you leave later?”

Ginny considered his question. “I suppose not.”

“Of course not,” he corrected her, speaking with conviction as he squeezed her hand. “Ginny… I still-”

“Stop,” she interrupted him. “Don’t say it.”

She wanted to hear him say it, of course she did, but she would never be able to leave if she let him continue. She felt her heart break a bit at Harry’s disappointed expression. “What do you want me to say then?” he asked, his voice quiet but his tone stabbing. “That I don’t care about you? That I don’t miss you? That I don’t think about you every time I try to date someone else? I’m sorry if that’s hard for you to hear, but I have to tell you, I can’t even fathom you thinking for even one second that anything between us could ever be meaningless to me. I’m sorry I didn’t text you. I don’t know how to do this.”

“No,” she said as she put a hand on his leg. She couldn’t take it anymore. He was right, hearing all of that was too hard for her.  Knowing the feelings are mutual “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… The meaningless thing was an overreaction, alright? I know… we’ll always mean so much to each other.”

Harry sighed, closing his eyes, his thinking face on. Ginny knew that face too well, and she knew he was trying to work out in his mind how to phrase all his feelings. “I just don’t understand why we gave up two years ago. We did long distance from your senior year in high school through all of college and it was fine. I didn’t want to break up. But you were so insistent that this is what was best once you got a spot on the team and I didn’t want to feel like I had to persuade you to stay together and I just…”

Ginny’s heart dropped into her stomach. There was such an ache in his voice… it hurt her to hear. “I don’t know, Harry, I thought… I thought I was doing the right thing,” she settled on. How could she explain giving up on them to him? To herself? “College was one thing, but as working adults? It just felt like we’d never be in the same place, we’d never be able to actually spend time together… I didn’t want to hold you back. I didn’t realize you…that you would’ve… I thought we were on the same page, I’m sorry.”

“No, I should’ve fought harder for us,” he told her, eyes blazing. “It’s not too late, is it?”

Ginny exhaled as Harry squeezed her hand again. “Harry, I can’t stay here-“

“I’m not asking you to.”

“Well, I can’t ask you to wait for me. I don’t know what’s going to come with my career.”

“I don’t care how far apart we are,” he asserted. “I don’t want to be with anyone else- I’ve tried, and I’m sure you have too, but we always end up back here, don’t we?  I want to be with you. We can figure the rest out as we go. It’s us, you know?”

He smirked at the end of his sentence, and all the feelings she’d been holding in for two years seemed to boil over at once. God, she missed that smile. The same smile as the one she dreamed about every day when she was only 11 and he spent every summer day over at their house with Ron. The same smile that he gave her after their first kiss, and after they skipped the prom and hid out under the bleachers, and when he came home to visit from college for the first time, and when he visited her in her dorm, and when he saw her standing in her bridesmaid dress at Ron and Hermione’s wedding, and then when he took it off of her later that night, and when they bumped into each other at the airport a few months ago, and just last night as she curled up against him in his bed and kissed him goodnight.

Tears warned to spill over, and she cursed herself for blinking one free. Harry put a hand on her face and wiped it for her with his thumb. He looked deeply into her eyes, which only caused more tears to fall. He wiped another for her, and then he kissed one away, and then he kissed her lips so gently she could barely register it.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, a hint of desperation in his voice for some type of answer.

She looked away from him, staring down at their knees. “I still don’t know, Harry. I’m confused. Everything you’re saying… I want that, I do, but it just doesn’t… seem practical. And… I mean, if we did get back together, what about everything after that? Do you want to stay in Tupelo forever?”

“Not necessarily,” he responded flatly. “I love my job now but I don’t know if I’ll still want to be here in a few years… But do we need to be making those types of decisions now?”

“Well if we don’t, then what? We get back together and three years down the line we break up because we realize we’re still not on the same page? I don’t want to waste either of our time.”

Harry let out a defeated sigh, causing Ginny to look up again. The fire in his eyes was being stomped out by disappointment. “Gin, listen… all I know is that ever since I was sixteen all I’ve wanted is to be with you, whatever it took to make that happen. That hasn’t changed, not one bit, even nine years later. I know we can make it work. If it’s not what you want… I don’t want you to be with me if you aren’t fully in it. But I want to be in your life. I don’t know what that looks like for you right now, but however it does, I’ll be there. Even if that’s only as your brother’s best friend.” He offered a sad smile as he finished.

But you’re so much more than that , she wanted to say, but felt like that’d just be proving his point, and she still felt too confused and overwhelmed. Selfishly, she leaned in and kissed him, long enough to memorize the feeling for later but quickly enough to prevent any further persuasion from the magic of his mouth. She braced herself for her own heart’s self-destruction as she opened her eyes and said, “I think I should go home, now.”

Harry’s sadness lingered for a moment, before he channeled his expertise of shutting down, his features flickering to blankness. “If...if that’s what you want. Let me drive you home, at least?”

She wanted to say no, that she’d just order an Uber, but her mouth betrayed her. “Ok.”

He let go of her hand and stood up. “I’ll, er, just throw on some clothes real quick, then run and grab yours and leave you to get dressed.”

She nodded and watched him throw on a pair of jeans, an undershirt, a jumper, and socks rather haphazardly. She listened as his feet creaked across the hallway floors, and waited with bated breath as he made his way back moments later, handing her a pile of her clothes. She muttered a “thank you” and averted his eyes as she took them.

“Take your time,” he told her gently, and made his way back out.

The moment the door clicked closed, she clenched her eyes shut and pushed out all the tears she could, so none would escape for him to see when she would have to face him again. She wiped her face and felt the warmth leave her as she got up from his bed, her haven. She threw off his shirt and put on her clothes from the night before, but folded up his t-shirt and stuffed it in her purse. It was an unspoken agreement between them that she could take as many of his t-shirts as she liked; he bought extras just for her.

She looked in the mirror, quickly threw her hair back in a low ponytail, and inhaled deeply, as if the air entering her lungs would give her courage to move forward as she opened up his bedroom door and walked towards the entrance.

Harry had his sneakers on, her shoes lined up and her coat ready for her in his hands. She slipped on her shoes and against her better judgment she allowed him to slip her jacket on for her, arm by arm. She hated the electricity that crackled through their every touch. She did not want to leave, she hated herself for leaving, even.

As if he sensed her self-deprecation, he took hold of her hand after it slipped through the sleeve. “Gin, it’ll be okay.”

She didn’t believe him, of course, it was just his typical optimism in order to protect everyone he loved, Except it made Harry look out for everyone else’s comfort at his own expense.

He grabbed his keys and led them out of his flat. They got into his car quietly. Without taking the backroads, the ride was relatively short, only taking 3 songs on the classic rock station of his ancient car radio to make it back to her home, the Burrow.

He parked right outside, which was a mistake, as her mother was out in the front with their family dog, Pig. She was wise enough to just offer a wave and a smile and resume walking with him.

Harry turned to her and asked in a low rasp, “Can I see you again? Before you fly back? Will you still be at your family’s for New Year's?”

“Yeah, I will,” she told him. “I’ll...I’ll see you there.”

Harry nodded. He clicked the unlock button for the doors. “Just...just think about what I said, alright?”

Ginny swallowed, nodding back. “I will.”

He kissed her cheek, his lips burning against her cold skin, and as he pulled away he leaned over to open her door for her. She attempted a smile in thanks, hopped out of his truck, and closed the door gently behind her.

She didn’t look back as she walked through her lawn, as she heard him call out to her mother, “See you soon, Mrs. Weasley!,” as Pig barked merrily at him and Harry laughed out, “I’ll see you soon, too, Pig!” before driving away.

She was grateful that her mother didn’t pursue her as her legs worked their hardest to get her to the door, through the entrance, and up the flight of stairs to her room, into her own bed, waiting for a sense of safety or relief that never came.

#hp #fanfic #hp fanfic #harry x ginny #harry potter #ginny weasley #hinny #au #alternate universe #modern au #harry potter x ginny weasley #harry/ginny #harry potter/ginny weasley #fanfiction #fan fiction

[hopeamarsu]

Of potions and myths - Chapter 3

William “Ironhead” Miller x f!reader

Word count 3,1k

Warnings: There is a visit to the police station and the officer isn’t the most accommodation but no words are changed. Other than that, I think none

A/N: I realize not a lot happens here, but I’m working my way to reveal more of this world, their connection and adding a dash of magical au in here somewhere.  

Chapter 2 - Chapter 4

Will insists on driving you to the precinct first, to file the complaint about the man from the previous night before heading out to meet his pack. You almost want to protest, the need and itch to solve the riddle of the connection and the pull between you much larger, but one look into his eyes tells you he will not budge. So with a sigh and a kiss, you untangle yourself from his embrace and slip into your bedroom to dress for the day. 

When you come back to the kitchen, Will has already cleaned up your cups and your coffee maker and he takes your hand as you walk outside. The air is warmer now, the morning chill defeated as you step to the curb and back into his truck. The brush against your seatbelt seems almost unconscious as the blond man starts the truck and navigates into the morning traffic. 

The drive is accompanied by shy glances and soft smiles and you speak of unimportant things, getting to know one another. Favorite bands, random titbits about food and restaurants you’ve recently tried, stuff that on the surface level seems shallow but reveal a lot of each of you as you trade questions and stories. As he pulls up behind the police station, Will almost takes your hand into his, remembering the tendrils at the last moment. It might not be best to flaunt them around until you get a better understanding, he thinks, so he guides you inside with his hand hovering beside your elbow. 

You don’t notice it, but as soon as you step in, the man scans the exits and weak spots within the lobby and moves his body to best cover you as you walk to the counter. As you tell the officer manning the desk you want to report a crime, he cages you between him and the counter, one hand on your back and the other leaning over the wooden desk. Will might look relaxed and his posture easy, but he is anything but. The thrum in his chest has changed its tone and he can feel the wolf pace around as it tracks for any potential threats. 

The report is thankfully done quickly, smoothed over by Will’s convenient flip of his wallet and credentials when the officer looks up and down at you with disinterest as you explain your issue. You wrinkle your nose in annoyance when he does it, but let it pass as it gets the officer moving, pulling up documents for you to fill. Your information is jotted down, the account of the date and parties involved and you give a description of the potion (corroborated by Will) and as soon as your signature dries on the paper, the Captain whisks you outside.

“That was fast,” He comments as he guides you back to his truck, his hand radiating heat over your body. There is a non-committal hum from your pursed lips. You do not elaborate it further, but he catches the tone of it anyway. “Sweetheart, what is it?” Will grips your hand, forcing you to stop before you can step inside the car. He gently turns you around so you are face to face again. 

His blue eyes are darker again, though not in arousal. There’s worry, apprehension and something else swimming in the depths and your heart squeezes a little as you catalogue them. Hesitantly Will lets go of your arm and the spot feels cold immediately. From the corner of your eye, you see the tendrils disappear from where he touched you. “Did I do something wrong there?” 

You are quick to shake your head. “No, no! Absolutely not. It’s just… You know I was hesitant to do this in the first place and it’s because I knew this was going to happen. They would not believe me until you showed your credentials from Delta and it annoys me. Not you, the idea that just because I’m a mundane, I’m not to be believed. Like I don’t know a potion when I smell one. Just because I don’t have a neat little ID card that states I’m born into it, but have had to work my way through research to understand the intricacies. Might as well call me hysterical, you know?” 

Will tugs you in immediately, strong arms wrapping around to envelop you in a hug. Hands run up and down your body as he curses under his breath. He should’ve known not to hijack the situation, he should’ve let you handle this particular battle but he didn’t. The need to make it all go away fast got away from him. Something fierce bleeds through from his mind to yours and you gasp involuntary as it shatters your shields. The power of it knocks the wind out of you and your knees buckle. 

“Shit!” The curse is louder this time and Will reaches out behind you to open the door to the truck and he helps you sit down. “What happened, sweetheart?” His hands run across your face, your temple and your shoulders, worry etched into his features. But it's a different type of worry now, not like before when he was worried about what had happened in the precinct. This worry comes from somewhere deeper inside him, something more primal, and it rattles you as it bounces against your feeble shields, breaking them down further. 

“I’m okay, I’m… alright. I promise,” you whisper, your voice hoarse as you gasp for air. “I can just, I can just feel your emotions. And they are loud and powerful.” Will curses again and all of the emotions vanish in a flash as his own shields slam shut. You take a shuddering breath, lifting your eyes to look at him. His eyes flash between beautiful blue and intense red as he tries to get himself under control. 

“We need to go and see the elders now. If you can feel my emotions and they affect you like this, it’s not…” Will struggles for words, trying to piece it all together as he helps you get more settled on the seat. A water bottle is pushed into your hands and he urges you to sip from it. “This connection we feel, it’s growing and changing, becoming more powerful.” He finally finishes, scratching the back of his neck. 

You nod weakly but remain silent, trying to gather your bearings as you grip the bottle tight. He holds your gaze, finding something that eases his worries, and Will jumps behind the wheel. He easily navigates out of the inner city, his hand brushing periodically at yours on the seat between you as he zig-zags the streets until the truck is on the freeway and he can grasp it in his palm. 

You have a million questions running in your mind, trying to make some sort of mental list to ask the elders while building up the shields once more. You feel nervous, untethered and all over the place, wishing you had a better grip at your emotions. The analytical side of your brain is excited for the oncoming flood of information but the rest of you is scared you’ll be turned away once you reach his pack. 

As you feel your shields slowly settle and become a little stable again, you send out a small prayer to whomever is listening that even if you are turned away, Will’s pack won’t turn on him. It’s been less than 24 hours of knowing him but you don’t want to see him hurt, ever. The gnarly feeling twists your gut and you think for a second to ask him to stop and leave you by the side of the road. The second the thought hits, another follows that tells you that he would never agree to it. It calms you a little and you twist on your seat to fully look at him.

He truly looks gorgeous, you muse. His large frame looks at home behind the wheel, the grey Henley accentuating his muscles tantalizingly. As your eyes drift lower, you take in the comfortable-looking jeans hiding powerful thighs and the black watch on his hand before you focus on his tattoos, wanting to trace them closely and learn all their secrets. All of his secrets really and make them yours too. It’s a sobering thought that you will guard whatever secret he lets you in on with your life if needed.  

“We’re almost there. Just a few minutes more.” Will turns to look at you, eyes flashing red again and this time you latch onto it. You remember it happening previously at the precinct and yesterday at the pub. “Will, your eyes…” 

“My inner wolf, he knows we’re close to the pack and wants out.” He offers while turning the truck from asphalt to gravel as he guides it towards a parking place, filled with trucks and bikes and cars of all sizes. He kills the engine and takes both of your hands to his. “I promise I’ll explain them in better detail later, but I need to warn…”

Will doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence before the front door of his truck is wretched open and something large crowds it. 

“William Arthur Miller! Where the fuck have you been? You better explain yourself!” A male voice booms and you can only watch as the man is dragged out of the seat by his shirt and a smaller, leaner version of him embraces him tightly. Two other men appear in front of the truck as well, moving closer to the couple and soon you watch all four men embracing together. 

Carefully you step out of the truck too, leaning against it as you witness the men that are oblivious to the world for that moment. It’s endearing, the love that they have for one another, so clear in the gentle touches and noses burrowing into each other's skin to confirm that they are really all here.  

It takes some time for the group hug to disperse, allowing you to study the minute movements and shifts and build up your own strength for what’s to come. But once they do separate, suddenly three pairs of eyes look at you curiously. You see two sets flash yellow and one bright electric blue as the men study you, but the colors are quickly hidden when they realize you are not a wolf yourself. 

“Will, who is this?” The same voice speaks up again, the man looking at you with doubt in his eyes. The electric blue flashes in and out of his eyes and you wonder what it means and curse yourself for focusing more on other things than wolves. You can feel tension rise in the air as the men close ranks, form a sort of a wall in front of you and the truck, blocking all exits.  

“Sweetheart, I would like you to meet my brothers. Ben,” Will feels the tension too and shifts to stand next to you and points at the man who has spoken. Ben’s eyebrows rise at the term of endearment but he only tips his head in acknowledgement as the man beside him nudges his ribs. “Frankie,”  He nods towards the man next to Ben who is wearing a baseball cap and a grey T-shirt. Next to him, a shorter man with inquisitive eyes and salt-and-pepper curly hair steps forward and holds out his hand.

“Santiago, but you may call me Pope. And you are?”  You grasp his hand, the firm and dry handshake, something you expect from a man who holds himself like a soldier. You introduce yourself, nodding to Ben and Frankie before dropping Pope’s hand. Will’s large hand comes to rest at the curve of your hip.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call or text last night, but something came up.” Will looks down at you, softness creeping up his features as he speaks. You answer him with a tiny smile and he squeezes your hip.   

Ben is about to open his mouth, maybe to throw a joke or a barb but a quick grip of his wrist from Frankie stops him. He flashes his eyes at the younger man who snaps his mouth shut immediately. Santiago takes one look at the closeness between your and Will’s bodies and he nods, his eyes flashing yellow as he narrows them before adopting a neutral look quickly. 

“Understandable. Maybe we could take this into a more calm place and we can talk?” It’s phrased as a question but you feel like it's more a command as the others all nod quickly and begin walking along the path leading away from the parking lot. Will guides you in front of him, taking up position right behind you and not letting his hand fall. 

Up the path, you see several houses, most of them built so that the backyard leads into the forest surrounding you. After a few minutes of walking, you stop and turn to face one of the houses. It’s beautiful, full of warm wood tones and a beautiful garden. “Santi’s wife works as our healer, hence the full yard. There’s more in the back,” Will whispers in your ear, chuckling low at your interested look. “I’ll introduce you later, I think you and Yovanna would get along well.” 

The inside of the house smells of herbs, cooking and love and it feels so homey that it makes your chest ache. You wish to soak all the scents and feelings deep into your bones, bask in the glow and allow it to centre you. This feels like everything you’ve ever wanted and you never want to leave the foyer, but that is not in the cards just yet. With a small tug Will guides you to the living room, gesturing you to sit down on the loveseat. Ben takes up the armchair and Frankie plops down on the couch, followed by Pope. 

The energy in the room changes once more, becoming more charged as the men study you again. You brace yourself, upping your shields and unconsciously lean towards Will as you wait for someone to talk.

To your surprise, it’s Will. He speaks calmly, explaining what transpired in the pub and you see the men sit up straighter as they realize what could’ve happened had their brother not interfered. He then tells his brothers about the pull he felt as he took you home and how he was unable to leave the street, his need of protecting you outweighing everything. You watch Pope’s eyebrows raise in surprise as Will describes the warmth and the hunger he felt, still feels, as you are close. 

Frankie rises up from his seat and mumbles something about making a call and you know that the elders will come here, soon. Your hands find Wills and you squeeze it between yours, drawing strength from your connection. As your skin touches his, the tendrils appear, dancing on your skins though they are more muted now and Ben gasps. 

“Holy shit! What the fuck is that?!” 

“That’s what we need to find out, Benny. All we know so far is that we are drawn to one another like magnets, these appear when we touch and as of this morning we can feel each other's emotions. They don’t affect me as much yet, but there is definitely potential for it to incapacitate.”

Pope remains silent, his eyes flitting between yours, your intertwined hands and Will. “What are you?” He questions finally, just as Frankie returns to the living room. Before you can answer, the man slaps Pope’s head. “You can’t go around just asking that, cabrón, you know that.”

“Well, this isn’t anything I’ve ever seen before. Either you are something very powerful and do this on purpose, or something nefarious is at play here,” Pope offers. Dark eyes study you, the tension in the room growing as seconds tick by. Your eyes move from his to Ben’s and to Frankie before you turn your head to look at Will. He gives you the tiniest of nods and you roll your shoulders before looking at Pope again.  

“I was raised as a mundane, but I’ve been studying potions and spells for a long time. I work as a researcher at the museum's antique artefacts and extracts department. I know the basics but I promise you, any power that I possess is tiny compared to practising witches.” 

You speak calmly, wanting to diffuse any malice before it takes root. You glance at Will again, your eyes betraying you as they are filled with worry and fear. He smiles reassuringly and cups the back of your neck, kissing you fast, unafraid. 

It’s a possessive move as he devours your mouth, not caring an inch that his brothers are in the same room as you are. He pulls you in closer so that you are leaning towards his chest, hands on his pectorals and neck as he continues kissing you. You know the tendrils make another appearance as someone, maybe Frankie, gasps softly but you are lost to the kiss and in Will.

A cough finally separates you from one another but his large hand on your cheek doesn’t allow you to move far. “It’s going to be alright, I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he murmurs to your lips before straightening himself to look at the other occupants of the room. There’s steel in his eyes, challenging any of his brothers to start anything, but none of them do. You watch intently as the men eye one another, the bond they share crackling in the room. Benny is the first to rip his gaze off, followed shortly by Frankie and Pope.   

“Ironhead, we always have your back, you know that.” Frankie finally speaks in a calm tone as he takes the lead and diffuses the situation. “But .. You glow when you kiss. Literally glow in gold and silver. How is this happening?” He glances at Ben and Pope, both nodding in surprised agreement.

A knock on the door shuts up any explanation you want to give and all four men rise to their feet quickly. Following their example, you lift yourself up too and Will tucks you under his arm. 

You can feel his emotions rush in his veins, mixing with yours but you are prepared this time and as they brush you, you embrace them and do not fight. You can feel your shields opening up minutely, the calming effect spreading through both of you as the connection sings in approval. You turn to face the door as Pope opens it. 

The elders are here.

*

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[lazuli-bloom]

Roses and Styx

Chapter 3 – Kids' Games To Pass The Time

Beetlejuice x Reader

Word Count : 5,399

New day, new problems. Sure things aren't the worst they could be, but that new hire isn't making things all that easy at work.

Last Chapter | Archive | Next Chapter

--=--=--

An annoying, rhythmic buzz cut through silence. Light seeped its way in, chasing away the shadows of sleep. You groaned and rolled. It was too early to face the new day.

Compounding your groggy state was the fact you didn't sleep for shit last night. The chilly October night sucked the warmth from your room, and you had only a few blankets to shield yourself from it. And the chill didn't stop your mind racing most of the night. When sleep came to you, it brought restless dreams.

The first wasn't terrible, just strange. A weird bug followed you home wanting to be friends. The other dream, however... A vile pit formed in your stomach.

Your thoughts drifted to the dream. You couldn't move. Arms, legs, head, nothing. You couldn't budge an inch no matter how hard you fought. Something wanted you to stay still. And it wasn't as if your surroundings gave you any clues either. Darkness blanketed the room. No details, just a barren inky void. The only thing you found with you was a set of pinprick lights.

A voice spoke. It whispered beautiful words coated in honey. Your guts twisted. A warm touch held your face, and the voice asked you a question. Your words caught in your throat. The entity glared at you with icy eyes, and the sweet words soured to a nasty venom.

You clutched your chest as the memory of searing heat replayed. It sank blazing claws into your waist and arm, blistering and cooking the flesh.

You drew in shaky breaths and wiped away the leftover tears. It was just a dream. It was just a bad dream. You're safe.

You took in one more breath before getting up to start your day.

Normally you would go straight to the bathroom, but you wanted to check something. You stepped out into the main living space and found it empty. A DVD case sat on the coffee table, but the TV screen was dark. The couch laid devoid of any unexpected house guests. No sign anyone else was ever there. Your heart sank as you realized the encounter you remembered was just another dream cooked up by your tired brain. A frown pulled at your lips and you sighed. No time to mope. You needed to get ready for work.

You opened the bathroom door and peered inside. Rigel napped on the top of the toilet's water tank, surrounded by shredded toilet paper. At least it was less of a mess than yesterday. You clean up the ribbons and tossed them in the garbage under the sink. After you topped off his food and water, you hopped in the shower.

The water in your apartment only ever got up to lukewarm on a good day. And that was not a good day. Frigged rain pelted you, giving you goosebumps. Not wanting to linger, you got out and dressed a few minutes later.

You combed your fingers through your hair as you looted the kitchen. Damn cat, why'd it have to throw up on your hairbrush? You grumbled to yourself and pulled out the off-brand cereal to fix breakfast.

"What 'cha doing, babes?" A voice from nowhere spoke in your ear.

Your knees buckle and you collapse, taking the bag of cereal with you. You gripped at your chest to still your heart, and rolled to sit with your back to the cabinets. A man in a rotting striped suit floated in your kitchen, clutching his rounder stomach as he cackled.

"Oh sweets, that's great! I wasn't even trying!"

As the shock fades, your features scrunched up. You got to your feet and tossed the bag on the counter. With crossed arms you pivot to glare at the ghost, still laughing his ass off.

"Giving me a heart attack first thing in the morning," you said with a huff, "I came out here and you were gone. I thought I had dreamed the whole thing, you jerk."

"So you're saying you missed me?" He batted his eyes at you, setting your cheeks on fire. You would not dignify that with a response. Instead, you turned back to the counter and fixed your breakfast.

"Where did you go then?" you asked and riffled through the silverware drawer for a spoon.

"I was checking on your neighbors. Did you know the guys a few doors down have a shit-ton of electronics?"

"Yeah, and old lady Smith has a garden in her closet."

"Really? Which one is she in? I didn't find that."

"She's on the third floor, but don't bug her too much. She's nice. Plus she bakes amazing cookies for me whenever I help her."

You scarfed your breakfast, and double checked you had everything done. Rigel was in the bathroom with his things. You had your wallet and phone. After you finished the last bite, you set the bowl in the sink along with the one from last night.

You rinsed out the bowl and hummed to yourself before you glanced over your shoulder to the ghost. He grinned at you with a tilt of his head. You gave him a small smile, only to frown.

"I have to head to work."

That simple sentence wiped the grin from his face. His shoulders sank, and the color of his hair shifted. A dull purple seeped in and overtook the green. That couldn't be a good sign. "You're leaving me here?"

"Well, you could stay here, or..."

"Or?"

"If you can be out of the way and let me focus on my work when I need to, then you could tag along with me. It’d be nice having someone other than my boss to talk to during the downtime."

His grin stretched across his face again, and he spun up to you, batting his eyes. "Oh babes, you do care! Of course I'll go with you! Not my idea for a first date, but I'll take it."

You pressed your lips tight. Was this a mistake? Not like you can take back the offer, though. That would crush him. You let out a long sigh and rubbed at your temple.

"Not a date, dude."

"If you say so," he purred.

You shook your head and grabbed the keys before heading to the car. The ghost trailed you, with an ever present chill at your side. On the way to the car, he pointed out each of the apartments and spilled whatever secrets he found out. You had an inkling of some of your neighbors' crimes, but you weren't one to go tattling. It was best to let them deal with their lives and you deal with yours. So you ended up nodding along to what the ghost told you.

When you got to your car, you sat behind the wheel for a moment. Once your ghostly friend floated into the passenger seat, you took in a breath.

"Okay. A few things before we get there," You said as you fought to start the car, "If either my boss or a customer comes up and needs to talk to me, I would appreciate it if you hang back for a minute and let me handle them. Otherwise, I mostly just front-face merchandise and I can talk with you so long as I'm quiet. Also, I take my lunches in the cemetery, so I can talk a bit more freely there."

"Sounds good to me, toots."

You rolled your eyes and got the hunk of junk started. The car protested with clangs, but you drove off with a little more of a fight. On the scenic drive to work he asked you to turn on the radio, which got a dry laugh from you.

"What's so funny?"

"Radio's broke. Most things in this car are broken. Radio, heater, a/c. All of them are broken."

"Can't you get a new one? There's cars all over the place, just take one."

"Th-this isn't Grand Theft Auto,"

"It will be once you take a car!"

"Okay, technically true. I meant this isn't the game GTA, this is real life. And I would get arrested."

"Not if you had help from the ghost with the most!"

You rolled your eyes and turned onto the main road, heading for work. The rest of the drive, the "ghost with the most" filled the air with his own voice, singing a medley of songs. Some of them you recognized, others you suspected he made up on the spot.

You pulled into the employee parking and parked your car alongside the two much nicer ones there. As you collected your things, Beetlejuice pointed to the sleek mustang.

"That car looks fun! We should steal a car like that!"

"I'm pretty sure that's Brandon's car. I'm not stealing my coworker's car to take for a joyride."

"But it would be so cool!"

"Maybe later," you said, stepping out of your junker.

The bell chimed as you entered the store and caught your boss's attention. He came over to greet you and made sure you were doing better. You gave a small laugh and rubbed at the back of your neck.

"Yeah, I'm doing better." You glanced sidelong to the ghost wandering over to the front counter.

"Good. Now hopefully I can focus on training Brandon without as many interruptions. He keeps breaking away to chat with every customer that comes into the store. So I need you to handle the customers so he doesn't have an excuse."

"Got it. And if you need help with him, I can always smack some sense into him. The new order of mallets is in the back, right?"

Mr. Turner laughed and turned to go back to teaching Brandon. You smiled to yourself and meandered over to the counter. Your ghost pal sat on the countertop next to the computer.

"You never mentioned you get to hit people at your job, any openings?"

"Sorry, spot's filled. For now, anyway. But who knows, maybe we'll need a replacement soon."

"Save it for me. I would kill to get to hang around a pretty little breather like you all day and get paid for it. But doing that for free is nice too."

"You're a shameless flirt."

"How can a sexy beast like me not be with you around and able to see me?"

You shook your head and glanced at the computer. There was something you wanted to look up, you were sure of it. But what was it? You stepped closer and opened a new tab for the search. It sat blank for a moment as you retraced what the topic could have been.

"What are ya doing, babes?"

"I can't remember what I wanted to search for."

"One hundred great ways to skin a cat?"

You raised a brow and frowned at him. "I'm not hurting Rigel." A light flicked on in your head.

You typed in the cat's name and clicked on the page for the star. A picture of the Orion constellation to the side of the page showed off the stars. Most of them had fancy looking letters next to them, with a few having numbers attached. Rigel marked the lower right star, while the upper left was the only other star with a word.

"Beh-tell? Goose? Wait..." You jerked your head over to the ghost, who wore a Cheshire grin. "That's how you spell your name?"

"Yep. That's me. Behtellgoose."

You read the name once more. Betelgeuse. Such a strange spelling to sound like beetle-juice. Kind of cool though. You smiled and closed out of the tab when an unfamiliar voice called out to you.

"Good morning, Art. Great to see you doing better!"

"Heh, yeah. Feeling better." You forced a tight-lipped smile to prevent yourself from frowning. Brandon stayed still with his own fake smile plastered on his face. After a beat of him not saying anything, you asked, "Do you need something?"

"You forgot to go grab your apron. What if a customer came in? That would look very unprofessional. Here, I'll watch the counter and you can go grab your apron."

The corner of your mouth twitched, and you took in a deep breath. You stepped away and grabbed your stupid apron. As you threw it on, the bell chimed. You rushed back out, hoping to catch the customer before Brandon.

The counter stood unattended and you found Brandon down one aisle with a woman discussing products. You groaned and pinched the bridge of your nose.

"Isn't that what your boss wanted you to stop him from doing?"

"Yes, Beetle, it is."

You hissed out a sigh and shook your head. As you walked over to them, you prepared yourself to speak in your chipper customer service voice. Brandon insisted he could take care of the customer, only for Mr. Turner to order him to get back to training. Brandon grimaced and stepped away to let you take over.

Your smile was easier to keep on your face after that. You helped the customer find what she needed and rang up her items. She left with a wave and you went back to the computer.

"What the hell is that guy's deal?" Betelgeuse asked, gesturing with a thumb to Brandon.

"I don't know. I don't know if I really care." You leaned back onto your heels and let your mind wander. Whenever you were alone, stuck at the counter, you always pulled up simple web games on the computer to pass the time. But with Betelgeuse there, you couldn't ignore him to play games.

"What are ya thinking about, sweets? How hot it would be to make out right now?"

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. "No, you flirt. I'm thinking of what we can do to pass the time. All I'm coming up with are twenty questions and I spy."

"I'm fine with that," he said as he flashed you a sharp grin. "Okay, I'll start. I spy with my rotten eye, something... metal."

"Well, that narrows it down."

The two of you spent the rest of the morning going, taking turns playing those silly kids' games. Betelgeuse huffed and whined whenever a customer, or worse, Brandon, pulled you away to help them. Any time you called him out on his grumbling, he denied it as the color in his hair shifted.

He caught you staring at his hair once or twice, which exacerbated the shifting colors. Each time that happened, Betelgeuse quickly picked up whichever game you two had been playing. You left the topic alone for the moment, but stashed it away to ask about later.

Halfway into a difficult game of twenty questions, Mr. Turner came up to the counter. You ignored Betelgeuse's smug punchable face and greeted your boss, hoping your frustration didn't bleed into your tone.

"Cass, I'm stepping out for a bit to pick up something. I should be back for you to take your lunch break. Keep an eye on the store and Brandon for me, while I'm gone, okay?"

"Got it. Burn down the place and leave no evidence. Can do."

He shook his head with a laugh. Mr. Turner said, "you turd," before he waved goodbye and left the shop.

"Ooh baby, I love you talking about crimes like that! Tell me how you'd light up the place."

You turned back to the ghost. He floated with his stomach parallel to the ground as he held his scruffy chin in his hands and swung his legs pointed upward. You laughed at the dork and smiled.

"Well, the kerosene is over there, and the rolls of rags are an aisle over. There's a blow torch with some of the other tools."

"Artemis!" You whipped your attention to the stick in the mud, frowning at you. You didn't even get the chance to speak. "That kind of talk is highly unprofessional! Going over ways to burn down the store, shame on you."

"I was joking dude, it's not—"

"Well, I don't find that funny. And you shouldn't address your elders as 'dude', it is very disrespectful."

"Alright, I'm sorry."

"Good. Now I need your help."

You gave a tight-lipped smile and nodded. Brandon motioned for you to follow him, and once he turned back, you brought two fingers to your temple and jerked your head away.

In the middle of a tedious and painful walkthrough of creating an order of paint, the bell rang. Brandon broke away the second it chimed and went straight to helping the customer. That was irritating enough, but after the regular said they didn't need any help, Brandon insisted on assisting them.

You took in a deep breath and let the man dig his own grave. If he doesn't value your help, then he's not getting it. You marched back to the counter and found Betelgeuse picking his teeth.

He licked a striped tongue over his sharp teeth then said, "What a douchebag."

"Tell me about it."

The customer came up to the counter a minute later, followed by Brandon. You greeted the regular and switched the computer over to its register display. Your new coworker nudged you aside and insisted on being the one to ring up the customer.

"Artemis, you should have stayed at the paint desk. I'll meet you back there in a minute, after I help this gentleman."

You wanted nothing more than to slap that man. Who the hell does he think he is? Calling you unprofessional and pulling stunts like that? You grit your teeth and forced a smile before excusing yourself to head back to the paint desk.

Betelgeuse floated after you and lounged on top of the desk. You spared him a glance, but stuck to pacing the small paint pit, waiting for that douche-canoe to get back there. The customer didn't even have a lot of things to buy, so it shouldn't take Brandon that long.

"That freaking jerk," you said under your breath, "I can't believe Mr. Turner hired a guy like that."

"Want me to kill him?"

"Tempting, but no. I'm just going to talk to my boss when he gets back." You checked your phone for the time. A quarter after one, which means only fifteen more minutes until your lunch break. "God, I hope he's here soon."

You tapped your nails against the metal top of the tint machine, the speed of which accelerated the longer you waited. What the hell was taking him so long? Did another customer show up? This was getting infuriating.

"You sure you don't want me to kill the guy?"

"No, Beetle, I don't want you to do that."

"Art, who are you talking to?"

You turned around to the voice. Brandon stood at the threshold of the paint pit with his hand on his hips and raised a brow at you. Your face burned as you laughed, attempting to cover up your embarrassment.

"Oh, just this annoying little beetle. It was crawling under the tint dispenser."

"Do you regularly talk to disgusting bugs?" he asked. You opened your mouth to speak, only for Brandon to keep talking. "It doesn't matter. You shouldn't act so childish. How old are you? Late teens?"

"No, Brandon, I'm closer to my thirties than my teens."

"And you're talking to bugs, where any customer can come up and see that behavior. You ought to grow up and act your age, Artemis."

The bell chimed again, and you shuffled to the side to get an unobstructed view of the front. Mr. Turner stepped in with a smile and a wave. You waved back and checked the clock on the computer. One twenty-seven, perfect. You pulled your apron's strings and took it off in a swift motion.

"Where do you think you're going, Artemis?"

"Lunch."

Brandon frowned, and you folded up your apron with a smile. He probably wanted to stop you from leaving, but that shit would not fly with the boss back. Betelgeuse hopped down from his spot on the counter and followed. You tossed your apron behind the front counter and greeted Mr. Turner. After a quick rundown of what had happened, you left for your break, with a quick stop to your car to grab your food.

On the walk to the cemetery, Betelgeuse mocked the stupid things Brandon said. He was dead on with his impression, too.

"Artemis, do you think I give a shit? I'm a giant douche with a stick up my ass! There's no fun allowed in the store."

You did your best to hold back your laughter, but that only caused you to snort. A laugh roared out next to you in Betelgeuse's voice. You covered your mouth with your free hand, but that couldn't stop your shoulders from bouncing. As the two of you crossed into the graveyard, you glanced sidelong at the ghost, who shot you a grin.

In the cemetery, devoid of any other visitors, you veered towards your usual spot, off in the corner and near the front gate. You sat on the stone bench, setting your lunch beside you. Betelgeuse, however, sat on a gravestone, with his feet propped up on the one next to it.

You opened up your small bag of chips and started snacking on them. Betelgeuse looked over from picking at his nails and raised a brow at you.

"That's all you're going to eat, babes?"

"I have a granola bar too."

You grabbed the other half of your lunch and showed him. He tilted his head with a frown, but said nothing. It grew quiet, save for your munching on the chips. Your mind wandered, and you zoned out, staring unfocused in a random direction. Betelgeuse moved, catching your eye, and you studied him.

He gnawed at his black nails with jagged yellow teeth. Stubble covered his round chin, matching the same green mixed in his hair. Has his stubble changed color like his hair has? And why did his hair change color to begin with?

You hummed to yourself after finishing the last of your chips.

"What's up, sweets?"

"I... was hoping to ask you something."

Betelgeuse tilted his head to the other side and raised a brow and pursed his lips. You gave a half smile and laughed. He looked like a curious puppy. How could this ghost-demon look so cute?

"What is it?"

"I've noticed that your hair isn't always green." 

As soon as the sentence left your mouth, the color of his hair shifted to a deep purple. You shrank back as your stomach twisted into knots. Even without knowing what the colors meant, the frown on his face and sudden dodging of eye contact weren't good signs. On no. You messed up, didn't you? Why couldn't you have just kept your mouth shut?

"I'm sorry. You don't have to say anything. Forget I ever mentioned it."

You dug your nails into your palms and turned your gaze to your knees. Betelgeuse produced a mix of a growl and a groan, and you peered up at him through your hair. His lips pulled into an almost smile as he kept sharp eyes pointed at his hands, where he raked his nails through the hair of one.

"I might as well tell you, you'd figure it out eventually. My hair changes color with my mood."

You dared to lift your head more. Your lips parted as your brain processed the new information.

"Like a chameleon?"

"Like what?"

He tilted his head and raised a brow as his nose wrinkled. You forced out a small laugh and smile as you wrung your wrists. "A chameleon, the little lizards that change color. It's to communicate their mood. Darker colors like black are when it's stressed, neutral tones are when it's calm, and vibrant greens, or reds can be excitement or aggression."

Betelgeuse lurched forward with a growl and ran his hands through his hair, shielding the deepening purple from view. Your stomach twisted into knots. This wasn't getting better. You parted your lips only to press them shut a second later. Why did you have to screw up and bring up his hair in the first place?

Your nails dug deeper into your palms. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"If you're going to strip a guy naked like that, babes, you could at least buy me dinner first."

Your face wrinkled as you tilted your head at him. Betelgeuse still held himself curled and closed off, but he wore a weak crooked smile. Your lips twitched, and you huffed out a dry laugh.

"Alright, we can go through the drive thru to get a few things off the dollar menu."

"Ooh! I wanna try one of those green sludgy shake things from that Old MacDonald place."

"Sorry to break this to you, but they only sell those in March."

"What? That's lame!"

"Everything is pumpkin spice right now."

He pouted and crossed his arms with a huff. Despite the childish act, the purple in his hair faded back to a muted green. You chuckled to yourself as relief washed over you. With a soft smile, you grabbed the other half of your lunch and hummed before you opened it.

"Hey Beetle."

"Hmm?"

"I won't bring it up again if you don't want me to, but I wanted to say I think your chameleon hair is pretty cool. Like, is it magic? Or is it a demon thing? Or—sorry. I'm sorry. I'll shut up about it now. Sorry."

Your eyes darted to focus on your granola bar. You fumbled with tearing open the packaging for a second, only for the wrapper to give. The force sent your food tumbling to the ground. You stared at the broken bar and heaved out a sigh. Just wonderful.

Your pocket buzzed, veering your attention to it. You pulled out your phone and checked the caller id. Unknown number. Chills cascaded down as you stared at the phone.

"Something wrong, babes?"

"Nope. Everything's fine. Just some spam call."

You shoved it back into your pocket and let it ring. If the caller wanted anything, they can leave a voicemail. Besides, you needed to get back to work.

You picked up your trash and nodded your head to the gate. Betelgeuse hopped up and floated alongside you. After a few steps out of the cemetery, your phone rang again. Every fiber in you tensed up, but you left your phone in your pocket. The third time your phone rang, Betelgeuse spoke up again.

"Who the hell keeps calling you?"

You shrugged and laughed despite your dry throat. "Who knows? I have to get back to work though."

With a hurried pace, you made it back to the store in a few minutes. The bell swung, chiming away as you beeline for your apron behind the counter. Brandon stood at the register with a phone up to his ear.

"There you are, Art! I've been calling you and you never once answered!" Brandon frowned at you and slipped his phone into his pants pocket. "You're obligated to pick up if I or Mr. Turner ever need to call you."

"O-oh, that was you calling." A small breath escapes passed your lips and you relax, only to register what he said. "Wait, how did you even get my number? I've only ever given this number to Sam and Mr. Turner."

"Why does it matter how I got your number? The issue is; if work calls you, especially if you have a shift that day, you need to answer."

"Fine, okay. I'll save your number so I don't panic again when I'm called three times in a row."

"Oh please, three phone calls make you panic? Artemis, you're an adult. You should know better than to be worried about something as simple as a phone call."

You grit your teeth and smiled. This conversation wasn't going anywhere you wanted, and you didn't plan on sticking around. You threw on your apron and marched to a far corner of the store to get away from everyone. Well, save for the ghost haunting you.

"Wow, babes, that guy is a major piece of work."

"Piece of shit is more like it."

You grabbed at products on the shelf and pulled them forward, turning the labels when needed. If you looked busy, maybe Brandon would mind his own fucking business. You clenched your jaw and growled as you brought more things forward.

"I shouldn't be worried about phone calls? What the fuck does he know? He's never had to put up with the shit I have!"

"And what shit would that be, babes?"

You glanced up to the ghost laying on his stomach across the top of the aisle shelving. Betelgeuse tilted his head. Soft and earnest curiosity graced his features. The corner of your mouth twitched before you closed your eyes and let out a hiss.

"I don't want to get into it," you said, keeping your voice quiet, "but I've had someone call me over and over before. It wasn't fun."

You pulled the rest of the items forward within arm's reach before sidestepping to get more. Betelgeuse floated after you as you inched down the aisle. He picked the games back up, and you welcomed the distraction.

There were one or two rounds of I spy, several goes at twenty questions—which you're positive Betelgeuse cheated and switched his topic multiple times. Towards the end of your shift, well after Brandon left for the day, you two asked a few "would you rather" questions. While he asked a few risque questions at the start—bite or be bitten, top or bottom—his questions took a tamer turn, similar to the ones you asked.

"Okay babe, would you rather find a rat in the kitchen or a roach in your bed?"

"I mean... I guess I'd prefer seeing another rat in the kitchen over finding more roaches?"

"M-more?"

"Donna hires her incompetent nephew to do the pest control for the apartments." You swept the line of dirt into the pan and tossed it into the trash. "Actually, speaking of, I should double check the traps and make sure something isn't rotting somewhere in the apartment."

Betelgeuse watched you finish the last of the closing routine. You clicked the pan back around the neck of the broom and stuffed it into a corner behind the counter. The only thing left was Mr. Turner to finish locking up the cash and heading out. You leaned against the counter and rolled your head back to look at the ceiling.

A quiet stillness overtook the store. It lasted a few seconds before Betelgeuse spoke up again.

"Would you rather have a nicer place but the same landlady, or the same apartment with a nicer landlady—"

"Alright Cass, you ready to leave?"

You turned your attention from the unseen ghost to your boss. He smiled and gestured to the door. You returned a half smile before exiting. Mr. Turner locked up, and you waved goodbye. A minute later you sank into the car seat and rested your hands on the wheel.

"Well babes, this certainly seems familiar."

You glanced his way and rolled your eyes before getting the car started.

"Yep, it's been an entire day since a demon followed my home, like a lost puppy."

"I'm way cuter than any puppy. Plus, you can keep me in your apartment all you want and your shitty landlady can't do anything about it!"

"Nicer landlady, by the way," you said as the car sputtered to life.

"What?"

"I'd rather have a nicer landlady than a nicer place. Donna would just let a nicer place fall to ruin."

You pulled out of the parking lot and drove home. At the first red light, you tapped your finger on the wheel and hummed.

"Hey Beetle, would you rather stay in a comfortable and familiar place with people that don't believe half of what you say, or cut all contact with them and be alone if it meant freedom?"

Betelgeuse tilted his head from one side to the other, closing his eyes as he mulled over your question. As he thought, the light changed, and you continued on your way home. A sharp grin stretched across his face a moment later.

"Easy. I'd take my freedom."

Your lips twitched up. "Yeah... me too."

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #musical beetlejuice x reader #roses and styx #my writing #fun fact. I kept miss spelling Brandon as Brandong when typing this

[firstofficerwiggles]

Chapter 2: Adventures in Space Babysitting

Link to Chpt. 1, Chpt. 3

Pairing: The Mandalorian x female reader

Rating: T

Warnings: Mild swearing, sexual arousal, references to sexual relationships, canonical violence

Word Count:~5600

Summary: Caretaker reader is settling into her job and she realizes she has a crush on Mando. Some fluff, action, and little angst in this chapter.

Author’s Note: Welcome to Chpt. 2! I haven’t really written anything with angst before so I hope you think that part went okay. Thanks for reading!

The little green body launches itself up onto your bed yet again waking you in the early hours of the morning. The child snuggles up close to your chest and you can’t help but rub his little back with soothing motions. You have tried to get the child on a routine these past few weeks, and this seems to be the one pattern he’s most pleased to follow every day. The first time he showed up in your bed you thought Mando had placed him there as a subtle hint that it was your turn to be on child duty. However, when you heard Mando frantically looking for the toddler that first morning, you knew the little one had managed to sneak his way over to you all on his own. Neither you nor Mando know much about the child’s life before Mando rescued him, but it seems to you that it must have been difficult, because he appears to be starved for affection and he seeks it out every chance he gets. You’ve always been a cuddler yourself though so you are happy to oblige him and honestly although it means you don’t get to sleep as much as you used to, you love your early morning snuggles with him. Besides, it helps keep your mind off how much you’d like to snuggle Mando.

This silly crush on Mando has hit you out of nowhere and you feel like a complete fool for even acknowledging it. You suppose it can’t be helped to a certain extent, as he has to be hands down the nicest man in the entire galaxy, implausible as it may seem. He’s a gun-for-hire, rough and tough bounty hunter, covered in armor and weapons, and yet he has been nothing but thoughtful and respectful towards you. When you first spoke to him about establishing a better schedule for the child and working on some developmental milestones, he listened carefully and encouraged you to do what you felt was best. Other men you’ve known in the past would have questioned your recommendations or only half-listened to you dismissively. But Mando asked thoughtful questions that showed you he valued your opinions and then he was sure to comment on how well things were going after you began implementing the changes. You couldn’t remember the last time an employer gave you a compliment on your work, and it was just nice.

Then there was the first time he brought back a bounty to the ship. He’d been gone for about two days and when he returned, he was dragging a large alien man behind him. While you tried not to be overly curious, you couldn’t help but watch him as he manhandled the guy into the carbonite freezer. You were impressed with his strength, but it also made you feel a little bit wary as he next strode over towards you and the child. Your cautiousness melted away quickly though as Mando placed a bag of berries on the crate sitting next to you, mentioning that he noticed how much you seemed to enjoy them and thought you’d like to have some more. The thought of him noticing such a detail and then taking the time to stop and buy the berries for you made you want to swoon. You told yourself you were being ridiculous and that it was clearly just an overreaction to someone finally being nice to you.

The child is starting to get squirmy and you know that means he’ll be looking for breakfast soon. You listen carefully for Mando and realize that he must either be still asleep or up in the cockpit. Either way, you doubt he’s eaten any breakfast yet as he seems to prefer your cooking over his own. You toss back your covers and get yourself ready for the day. You decide to make eggs this morning, the little one’s favorite food that isn’t sugar-based. You are just finishing cutting up some fruit to go with the eggs, when you hear Mando’s boots behind you.

“MMM, smells good.” He says sounding still a bit sleepy. “I’m starving.”

You turn around with a plate all ready for him and a cup of caf, telling him “Lucky for you, I knew you would be.”

“Thank you, I don’t know how I survived without you,” Mando replies. Your heart sings at his words and you quickly turn back to the food so he can’t see the goofy smile breaking out on your face.

“Mostly on ration bars it seems.” You noticed he had quite the stash of them when you were first on board. Fortunately, you’ve convinced him to try to get a greater variety of food whenever possible.

“Well, my taste buds thank you too.” He carries his breakfast into his bunk where he can eat in privacy. At first, you felt sad for him always having to eat by himself, but you realize he must be so used to it that it probably doesn’t bother him. Nonetheless, it hasn’t stopped you from thinking up ideas for a shared meal sometime in the future, maybe when he knows you better and his trust in you is stronger.

After breakfast, you’re getting the child ready for a day out on the town. Mando is dropping off several bounties today which means you’ll be able to stretch your legs off the ship and visit the market in Batuu. As the ship lands, Mando is already back in the hull quickly reviewing all of the safety protocols for leaving the ship. He does this each time and at first it was rather annoying, it’s not like you’re an idiot, but then you realized he does it because he simply cares that much about the child’s and your wellbeing. While his protectiveness towards the child is completely logical, you still can’t get over how much it extends to you too. You’ve been responsible for yourself for so long; it never occurred to you that another adult would care so much about protecting you.

“Before I forget, I found a holster for you.” Mando is holding out a leather belt for you. “You shouldn’t keep the blaster in a bag; you can’t get to it fast enough.”

“Oh, thank you.” You say politely, although you’re hoping that just once he’ll fail to remind you to take the blaster along. You know he said you have to take it with you every time you leave the ship, but you still feel uncomfortable carrying it around. At least when you could shove it into your bag, you could pretend you didn’t have it, but now, it’ll be right there on your hip, much harder to ignore. Your fingers fumble with buckling the holster; knowing that he’s watching you intently makes you nervous. Mando steps closer to help you, softly brushing your hands away. Maker, he’s so close to you and each time his hands brush against your waist as he secures the holster you need to remind yourself to breathe.

“There you go.” Mando finishes but lets his hand linger for a moment on your hip. You feel his thumb brush back and forth just a bit before he sharply pulls away as if realizing what he was doing. You slip the blaster into the new holster, and he gives you a nod, “Looks good.”

You feel your face heat up as you realize he’s staring at your hips and you distract yourself by making sure the child is ready to go, “Ready to explore?” you ask him, and you hear a happy coo in response from the pram.

You follow Mando down the ramp of the ship, glad to be out in the fresh air and sunshine. Shopping for supplies never seemed like anything interesting in the past, but now that you get to visit different markets on new worlds you’ve never seen before, each little shopping trip feels like a new experience. The colorful stalls filled with all types of wares beckon you to explore and discover some exotic fruit or an old book that you might never see anywhere else.

Oh, speaking of books, “I thought I might try to find a few children’s books for the child, if that’s ok?” you ask Mando.

“Are you trying to teach him to read? Is he ready for that?” Mando sounds curious, but not skeptical in any way.

“No, not yet, but I know he likes hearing stories,” you explain, “and I’m not sure how much more I can keep inventing ones to tell him.”

“Have you just been making those stories up yourself?” He nods in approval, seemingly impressed. “You have a good imagination.”

“Oh, um, thank you.” You’re caught off guard there for a moment, as you hadn’t realized he’d paid much attention to the stories you tell the little one.

“Yeah, I liked the one you told him about the magic frog. It was funny.” He surprises you again. Not only was he listening, he remembers the silly story you made up, and he liked it.

“Thanks,” you say again, stunned by his comment, but it’s his next suggestion that totally floors you.

“You should write them down, make your own book.”

“Make my own book?” The idea would never have occurred to you.

“Why not? Maybe you can even get the kid to draw pictures for it. You can get him some coloring pencils too.” Mando turns and hands you some extra credits. “I need to take care of some business, now, but you two will be safe here. Meet me by the fountain in 30 minutes. Do not be late.” He punctuates that last statement with a point of his index finger and then turns to go.

You watch him head towards a cantina and then just stare down at the credits in your palm. How is he so nice but then also kind of scary? And why does it make you ‘feel’ things? You shake your head at your own silliness and then look down at the little guy and say, “Well, let’s go find you something to color with.”

Perusing the stalls, you find plenty of items to fill up your bags and empty your wallet. You discover a great notebook with plenty of space for writing and pictures. The more you think of the idea of creating your own little book with the child, the more excited you get. You find a few children’s books too, so that you can be sure to keep the little one entertained when he’s tired of drawing. Cognizant of the time, you start to head to the fountain in the center of the market, Mando’s designated meeting spot, when you smell a delectable aroma. The baby smells it too and immediately begins whining and reaching out his little hands. You head to the source of the scent to see several types of kebabs at a nearby stand. You still have some credits and are preparing to order but the little one is too impatient and before you know it, two kebabs are floating to the pram.

“Hey! You have to pay for those!” The man behind the stand yells at you.

“I was; I mean I am,” you quickly tell him, “I’m sorry, he’s just so sneaky and fast sometimes.” You offer him a smile, hoping to smooth things over. What’s more, you pray the man thinks the child just grabbed the food and that he didn’t notice anything magical about it. “How much are they?”

The man looks you over for a moment and then his demeanor changes, “Well, for you, mama, I’m sure we can work out a little deal.” He leers at you.

“That’s ok,” you say uncomfortable at the look in his eye, and you let your smile drop from your face, “I’ll just pay the regular price.”

“Ah, c’mon, there’s nothing like a little discount among friends.” He steps out from behind his stall to stand right in front of you. He reaches out and brushes a hand down your arm, “You’d like to be my friend, wouldn’t you?”

You take a step back and say, “I’d just like to pay you for the food.”

“We can call it even, if you give me a little kiss.” This gross creep moves closer to you again, this time leaning down.

“I have credits.” You tell him, attempting to sound firm while you start to step back again, but he anticipates your move and reaches out to grab your wrist pulling you up against his body. You push on his chest, trying to pull away when you hear the sound of a blaster priming and then a raspy modulated voice says, “Let her go.”

The man drops your arm instantly and you can finally back away from him. You’re very grateful to see Mando with his weapon pointed directly at the man’s head. The man holds his hands up, “We were just having a friendly little chat.”

“Didn’t look friendly to me.” Mando deadpans, but he holsters his blaster now that it’s clear you’re safe. He comes over to you, placing a hand on the small of your back and turns you to walk away with him.

“Hey! She still needs to pay me for the food,” the man protests.

“What did he want for the food?” Mando asks you.

“A kiss,” you reply sardonically.

Mando shrugs, then turns back to the stall, approaches the man quickly and then just head-butts him hard with his helmet. The creep lets out a loud yell of pain and collapses to the ground.

“There you go, a kiss from a Mandalorian.” Mando drawls, before turning and striding back over to you.

Oh damn! That was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen and you feel your body flood with desire. Ok, so maybe that was a blatant show of male posturing, and as an educated, modern woman, you probably shouldn’t be so aroused right now. But some primeval part of your brain has taken over, and the only thought you have is how great a protector Mando is and how much you want him to protect you. You can’t even say anything to him right now because you’re just replaying the moment over in your head. It isn’t until you realize that Mando is saying your name, repeating it, that you finally snap back to reality and remember to thank him.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Mando is saying, “Are you ok?” He asks you slowly to make sure you’ve understood him. It’s possible he’s already asked you that but you were too swept up in your cavewoman thoughts.

“Oh, yes, yes, I’m fine,” you reassure him, “That creep just made me uncomfortable, but he didn’t hurt me. But, thank you again.”

“You’re sure?” Mando asks, a bit doubtful. What are you supposed to tell him? That your dazed look is because you’re turned on by him right now. Super inappropriate, having a major crush on your boss! You take a deep breath and remind yourself yet again that Mando is your employer.

“Really, I’m fine, thank you.” You’re pleased that you managed to get that out in a normal sounding voice. Mando considers you for a moment.

“Why didn’t you pull your blaster on him?” He wants to know.

“I don’t know,” you tell him truthfully, “I guess I’m just not used to reacting that way.”

“Hmm, we’ll need to work on that.” He seems satisfied at that and starts walking back towards the Crest. You force your feet to follow him, telling yourself to pull it together.

“Is that really considered a kiss from a Mandalorian?” You can’t help your stupid mouth from blurting out your question.

He laughs, surprising you because it’s the first time you’ve heard it. “Technically, yes, we call it a Keldabe Kiss.” He chuckles again and then says, “But there is a much softer version too between lovers.”

Ok, you almost become a puddle hearing him say the word ‘lovers’, and thankfully he’s still amused by your question that he doesn’t seem to notice your mouth dropping open and your feet stumbling a little. Instead, all he says is “Let’s get back to the ship, kid’s got the right idea, I could use something to eat.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later, Mando powers up the engines and you figure you’re off to the next planet, but instead he keeps the ship in the atmosphere, taking you away from the town. He lands in a clearing near a forest, and says, “This will be a good spot to practice.”

“Practice?” You’re confused.

“Yeah, I told you we’re going to work on your reaction to threats.” He says this in a matter-of-fact voice, “Plus, I know you said you could shoot, but I want to see how you handle that blaster.”

Sighing internally, you put the holster back on and collect the blaster from the weapons locker before following him down the ramp. The baby toddles down the ramp too, curious to see what’s happening.

“Alright, Miss Top-Marks-in-Shooting, let’s see you hit that tree.” Mando’s tone is rather chipper as he points out a large tree directly across from where you’re both standing. It’s a very easy target; he must think you exaggerated your skills.

You draw the weapon smoothly and shoot, just as you were trained to do, hitting the tree with ease. You fire four shoots in a small cluster pattern, to show that you are capable of accuracy.

Mando nods his head once, “Ok, now hit those five trees in rapid succession.” He points to a line of smaller trees further away to your left. You turn and successfully hit all five in what you consider to be a decent pace.

“Not bad, but see if you can go faster.” He instructs you. You try again, hopefully quicker this time. He nods when you look back at him and then points out a new target. You both keep repeating this pattern and he offers some critiques as you shoot, but generally, he seems satisfied.

“You did well,” Mando tells you after a bit, “You ever hit a moving target?”

“Uh, no.” You look at him cautiously, wondering what he has in mind. Your eyes must show how anxious that makes you, because he says, “We’ll work on that another time.”

You can’t help but let out a small sigh of relief. You figure practice time must be over for now, but then he says, “Let’s work on that reaction time for when someone is in your face. Just let me tell the kid first.”

Mando walks over to the little one who has been sitting on the ramp watching you shoot. “Ok, kiddo, this is just pretend. You understand? No one will get hurt, so no powers, ok?” The baby coos up at him and Mando nods.

“Gotta make sure he doesn’t try to fling one of us into a tree.” He says to your bemused expression. Mando returns to face you and steps close until he’s practically touching you. Your heartrate immediately picks up and your body starts to feel hot.

“I want you to draw your weapon on me, but do not shoot me,” he says definitively.

“What? No, I can’t do that, Mando,” you tell him in protest.

He reaches out lightning fast, grabs your wrist, and hauls you up against him in a similar manner to the jerk in the marketplace. Your positioning might be the same, yet this time you don’t feel creeped out, no, instead you like it, your traitorous body even pushes you a little closer to him.

“Draw your weapon on me. I’m a threat to you.” Mando tells you in a gravelly voice. Stars above! You have to bite your lip hard to keep from moaning. What is wrong with me? You realize he’s not going to let you go until you draw the blaster and so you finally comply with his order.

Mando releases you with small chuckle, as he says, “Ok, let’s try that again only not in slow motion.”

“Wait, wait, I’m not ready.” You’re panting like you just ran a race.

“That’s the whole point,” he replies, “Threats don’t just wait until you’re ready to shoot them.” You could swear he’s smirking at you under that helmet.

“No, I mean, give me a second to imagine I’m being threatened,” you are trying to buy yourself time before he decides to touch you again. “I need to visualize it.”

“Are you saying I’m not threatening enough?” Mando sounds skeptical and maybe a little insulted.

“No, I mean, of course, you are, you’re very threatening and wanted men everywhere should fear you, but I don’t fear you because I know you’ll never hurt me,” you explain to him in attempt to cover up the fact that you’re so damn attracted to him right now.

“You’re right; I would never do anything to hurt you.” He nods in agreement. “But wanted men everywhere should fear me, huh?” He sounds amused by that.

“Yes, yes, you’re very scary.” You tell him, rolling your eyes slightly.

“Ok, so pretend I’m someone you do fear.” He advances toward you. This time you think of Lieutenant Sauckel, an odious man from Imperial Intelligence that you despised. When Mando grabs you again, you imagine Sauckel’s black eyes and yellow teeth and draw your blaster as Mando pulls you to his chest.

“That was better, but still too slow.” He makes you try over and over, and each time you picture another terrible Imperial officer, Commander Brack, Major Frick, Junior Lieutenant Hess, and then finally Ensign Kerrick Hoven, the man who broke your heart and betrayed you. Imagining Kerrick’s smug face appears to do the trick, because it’s the fastest you’ve drawn the blaster yet, and you manage to wrench your arm away from Mando for the first time.

“Good!” Mando praises you enthusiastically, “That was really good.”

“Thanks.” You’re pleased to hear his words of encouragement, but your voice doesn’t show it. Picturing Kerrick again is enough to send you into darker emotions and you feel anger and sadness swirl in your stomach. Your face must give away your unhappy thoughts, because Mando suggests you stop for the day.

You stow your blaster in the holster and then head over to the child who’s been thoroughly entertained watching you both pretend fight. You reach down to pick him up and hold him close to your chest in a hug. There’s just something about his sweet little presence that makes you feel better. You’re smiling again when you pull away and head back into the ship. Mando follows you up the ramp and he’s quiet but you can feel him watching you as you stow the blaster in the weapons locker and remove the holster from your waist.

“Everything alright?” He asks you.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. I-, Thank you for taking the time to work with me on that. To practice, I mean. I know you’re very busy.” It really does mean a lot to you that he took time out of his schedule for you and you feel your heart swell as you think about his protective nature.

“You’re welcome,” he says, his voice a little softer, “Your safety is important to me. Plus, you need to be able to help keep the child safe too.”

“Yes, of course,” you nod in agreement.

“It’s helpful that you’re a good shot.” He praises you again, and this time you smile at his words.

“Thank you,” you reply sincerely. While you haven’t seen him shoot, you know he’s clearly an expert and it really does mean a lot to hear him praise your skill.

You turn back to the child, “I think it’s playtime now, what do you say, buddy?” He chirps in agreement and you head over to his small stash of toys and place him on the floor so he can start pulling out his favorites. Before you clamber down to join him, you feel Mando’s hand cup your arm just above the elbow. You turn back towards him with an inquisitive look. He just seems to stare at you for a moment, still holding your arm before telling you, “I’ll going to get us on our way to the next planet.”

“Ok, we’ll be alright down here. I’ll bring you up some dinner later.” You give him another smile and a quick nod.

“Good,” is all that he says and then he gives your arm a little squeeze before heading to the cockpit and you can’t help but feel a little fluttering in your stomach at that touch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of your afternoon passes swiftly as you and the child take his plushies on a heroic quest across the metal wonderland (the hull) to the black cliffs of mystery (a stack of crates) where you must find the golden treasure (a box of cookies). It’s a much more enjoyable game of pretend seeing as you’re not imagining Imps threatening you. It puts you in a cheerful mood and you’re still grinning to yourself when you bring Mando his dinner tray. You feel a pang of regret for him that he’s missed out on the fun afternoon with you and the child and it’s compounded by the thought of him eating his dinner alone too.

“Mando?”

“Yeah?”

You want to ask if there’s any way you could keep him company while he eats, promising to face away from him the entire time, but it feels too pushy to ask him for that. Besides, you’re probably just projecting your own feelings onto him. He’s likely much more comfortable knowing that you and the child are safely shut away from him downstairs and there’s no way he can break his creed while he eats. So, you just tell him, “I hope you enjoy your food.”

When you head back downstairs, you’re mentally kicking yourself for getting too attached. Your job is to take care of the child and make sure his needs are met. It’s nice of you to take care of Mando a little too, but he doesn’t need you to keep him company or worry about him being lonely. I’m being pathetic. You turn your attention back to your little green charge and decide it’s time to give him a bath and get him ready for bed. Still though as much as you try, you can’t stop your thoughts from wondering back to Mando. It’s hard to forget what it felt like pulled up against his chest while you were practicing your self-defense. And you may have replayed the whole head-butt scene in your head a dozen times. Stars! Am I really so desperate that I’m falling for the first man who’s nice to me? You try again to push images of Mando out of your head and focus on the baby. It works until he’s sound asleep in his little hammock and you don’t have a distraction any more. Maybe you can just grab your holopad and read up in the cockpit. That way you can satisfy your need to be close to Mando but also keep from bothering him. You make your way up the ladder, making sure it’s ok to enter the cockpit in case he still has the helmet off, before flopping down in the passenger seat on Mando’s right. You sit there and fiddle with the holopad trying to find a story that will entice you enough to keep your eyes on it, instead of tossing glances at the armored man sitting next to you. Turns out it doesn’t matter though because Mando feels like chatting.

“Kid get to sleep ok?” he asks you.

“Yes, he was pretty sleepy after his bath,” you reply.

“Probably tired after that epic adventure you went on too,” he huffs out a laugh, “I heard you doing all the voices for the toys.”

“Oh, yeah,” you’re a little embarrassed by that as you know you can be pretty goofy when you’re pretending with the child, “He really seems to like it though.”

“Sure he does, I could hear him giggling too.” Mando confirms for you. “I’m glad he’s having this time to be a child. I don’t know much about his past, but I don’t think he’s had a lot of fun in his life.”

“Well, I’ll try to make sure he does something fun every day.” You already love the little one so much, anything you can do to make him happy brings you joy too.

“Who were you picturing when we were practicing your reaction time?” Mando changes the subject abruptly.

You take a moment to process his question, and then tell him, “Just some Imperial officers from my past.” You shrug, “I figured that would be good motivation to draw a blaster.”

He seems to consider you for a moment, and then asks, “What about the last time? Who was that?”

“Oh,” you try to let out a little laugh to ease the discomfort welling up in you, “That was the man who broke my heart.”

“An Imperial officer?” Mando sounds surprised at that.

“He wasn’t an Imperial officer when I first knew him. He was in the graduating class before mine. We dated when we were in school together and we stayed in contact after he graduated. He’s the one who convinced me to do the exams for the ‘research group’.” You make quotation marks with your hands when you say those last two words.

“He mislead you?” Mando asks.

“No, he didn’t know what it really was then either. He had only just heard about it and was trying to get a job there and convinced me that it would be great for the two of us to work together.” You pause there not sure if you really want to keep telling Mando this story.

He’s curious though, as he asks, “What happened when you both found out you were working for Imp Intelligence?”

“We were both shocked and we turned to each other for comfort. It was intense, because I still had old feelings for him, and at the time, I believed he was the only one who understood how I had been deceived because he was right there with me. For a while, it felt tragically romantic, like we were two people clinging to each other in the midst of a terrible situation.”

“So, how did he break your heart?” Mando questions softly.

“I didn’t realize how one-sided our love affair had become. I thought he shared my horror for the Empire and their actions, but little did I know, he was buying into the Empire’s message more each day. As I was trying to disrupt the intelligence, Kerrick was weaseling his way closer to the officers, trying to spend time with them or impress them with his work. They awarded him the rank of Ensign when he turned me in for sabotage.” You can’t help the tear that manages to sneak out and slide down your cheek. You look out to the stars as they swirl by you in hyperspace.

“What was his name? His full name?” Mando asks.

“Kerrick Hoven, why?”

He ignores the question and asks, “Is he still alive?”

“As far as I know, yes.” You’re not sure why that matters to him.

Mando just makes a little hmm noise and then says, “No wonder you drew your blaster so quickly.”

“Well, that’s my sad story of heartbreak. How about you, Mando? You have a heartbreak story of your own?” Now that you’ve bared your sad past to him, you’re curious to hear about his.

“No.” Is all that he says.

“No? Nothing?” You push back a little; he must have something to share.

“Not really. Never get too attached or involved with a woman.” He punctuates this with a shrug.

“What about when you were a bit younger? No love affairs?” You can’t stop yourself from being curious about his romantic past; you just want to know a little something about it.

“I’ve had lovers, but nothing long-term or serious.” he states, “Relationships don’t really go with being a bounty hunter.” He sounds rather blasé about his love life or lack of one, as if he doesn’t spend any time thinking about it at all.

You feel your heart drop at that and all of your fantasies about the two of you being together someday seem exceedingly ridiculous right now. Of course he isn’t a man who gets into relationships, and if you became his lover, it would probably be a short-lived fling that would burn itself out once the novelty of new passion was gone. You feel foolish and tired. The fun of hearing about Mando’s love life has dissipated completely for you. So you change the topic and ask, “Where are we headed to next?”

“Bespin” Mando says. “It’s a mining planet with a city high up in the clouds in the upper atmosphere.”

You listen politely as he tells you some other facts about the planet. It sounds interesting enough, but you’re not really paying that close attention as you’re still somewhat wrapped up in your emotional reaction to his dismissal of relationships. You take a deep breath to center your thoughts and then focus in on his words, telling yourself that this is for the best, that you need to let your stupid crush die and just do your job. If you can’t do that, you’ll just set yourself up for another heartbreak, and what will that get you?

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

Thank you for reading! Link to Chapter 3, Lust Actually. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters.

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[hacked-by-jake]

𝐈'𝐦 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Summary: The first time you all meet. It’s no secret that Jake and Phil don't like each other, but no one expected it to end this way.

Pairing: Jealous!JakexMC

Preview:  "Of course you’re right. A life with a bar owner in a small town is much more exciting than a life with a wanted and one of the best hackers in the country" Jake sneers. You like Phil, but he’s not Jake. You fell in love with him because he’s him, and damn it, running away with Jake is stupid but sounds like a lot of suspense in hotel rooms. "What’s your problem?" Phil asks hissing. "My problem is how you look at my girl" Jake replies with equal resentment and raises your folded hands to put them on the table for everyone to see. "All of a sudden, you’re a couple?"

--

Words: 6,9k

A/n:  Hi guys, back with a new story. Everbyte gave me the perfect template for my favorite Jake, jealous Jake. Please excuse the mistakes as always.Sometimes I am insecure with myself, so can we pretend they are not there? lol. I hope you can understand everything, have fun and you like it! #IamJake ❤️🌹🎭

⚠️"I’m better than you" will remain a oneshot and won't get another part!

Tomorrow the cancelled forest search should be done. You sit next to Jake in the passenger seat and look out the window and watch trees and houses pull past you.

That Jake is back, the others in the group know, but they don’t know he’s coming to the search. You and Jake found out that you only lived two hours away from each other so you took the train to him and together you now drive towards Duskwood.

When you told Jake you were going there, he didn’t say he wanted to come too. When you told him you agreed to spend the first night at Jessy’s brother’s bar, he suddenly thought it would be the best solution if he came with us. First he asked why you all want to meet in the Aurora. You told him you were doing this to get to know each other better. You know each other through writing and pictures and phone calls but the first meeting in real life is still a little different. So you agreed to meet there and have a nice evening. And for some reason, all of a sudden, Jake wanted to come too. Thanks to the action #IamJake, the pursuers of Jake could no longer track him down.It just caused too much confusion. Jake was of the opinion that because the others from the group also helped him, he should also be in the search for Hannah. You promised him he wouldn’t regret it. But you didn’t believe his pretext, but you don’t know the real reason he really wanted to come. And now you are sitting together in the car and the "Welcome to Duskwood" sign at the entrance of the city appears a few meters in front of you. You start smiling as you see it and look excited to Jake. He turns his head to you and gives you a little smile. "Are you happy to see your friends?" he asks and looks back at the street. "Yeah, I’m looking forward to seeing OUR friends, Jake," you answered and giggled. They’re his friends too. Both sides are still a little skeptical but they are also his friends. And if they don’t be in this moment, I’m sure they will. "At the moment there seems to be more going on at the motel" you explain to Jake as he drives to the parking lot in front of it. Lilly has told us that there have been very few people staying here lately, but fortunately it is getting more and more again. The situation in Duskwood is calming down again. People don’t think so much about the body has been found in the woods of their home city anymore. Luckily, nothing bad happened since then. Jessy’s brother said that the bar has more guests and more people going out again, which is a good sign. The man without a face must not manage to plunge an entire city into fear and terror. Jake parks his car near the entrance and shuts down the engine. "Ready?" you ask him. He nods his head and buckles up. You do it like him, and together you get out of the car. You didn’t tell anyone except Lilly that Jake was coming too. Why you told Lilly? Point 1: The situation would be very strange if the two would suddenly stand in front of each other without warning. Point 2: Lilly told you she owed you a favor because of the video she made. You actually told her it wasn't necessary, but she said that she will redeem it when you are in Duskwood. Next to each other, you and Jake walk through the front door of the Motel. At the reception Lilly is standing waving as she sees you. "Hi Lilly" you said. She comes up behind the counter and walks up to you. "Hi MC I’m glad you’re here" she grins wide. "I’m happy too" you giggle. You two break up. Jake stands a little off and watches you two. "Um, so, Jake, this is Lilly. Lilly, I’d like to introduce Jake".   They both say "hi" at the same time. Lilly went back right behind the counter. "So your room is number 22 on the second floor.It is not far from the elevator.In the room you will find all the information you need. Like when dinner starts and stuff like that. If anything wrong, I’ll be down here and help, "she explains. "Just one room?" asks Jake. You look at Lilly and pull up an eyebrow. You took care of the rooms and booked two. "Yes, I’m sorry, something went wrong with your booking and now we have no rooms available.Only one I can give you. I’m really sorry, I hope that’s not a problem," she explains. You look at her confused. "But there aren’t nearly enough cars outside?" Jake asks skeptically. "Yes, most of them have all gone away.Today the weather is nice, you can go swimming or shopping in the city center" "Is that a problem for you?" you ask Jake. Briefly he does nothing at all but then shakes his head. "Okay great, and I’m sorry again for the circumstances.Have a nice stay, see you in 3 hours at the latest." Jake has been walking slowly while Lilly gives you the room key. She winks at you, and now you understand that she lied. You have to holding back a laug and turn around quickly to follow Jake. "Is this really not a problem for you?" you ask again as you enter the elevator. "No problem, we can do this" he mutters. You have to giggle. "We can do this" you repeat his sentence. "You’re kidding about me again," he notes. "Oops" is your hypocritical answer. A "pling" sounds and the door opens. Together you’ll find your room. Excited you open the door and enter the room. It’s small but cozy. The walls have a soft color. A double bed is on the wall. Next to it is a bedside table with a small lamp. Opposite it is a table with two chairs and a TV hanging on the wall. "It’s beautiful here," you say and close the door. Jake agrees with you. In three hours, the meeting will take place. In between you talk about unimportant things or about the search, or new information in your case. After a while, you get up to get ready for the meeting in the bathroom. When you stand in front of the mirror, you look at yourself. You’re in Duskwood with Jake, the hacker boy who that drives you crazy, where you are excited all the time and your heart beats faster, and and with whom you will share a bed for the next few days. You’ve never seen him before, today is the first time and when you got in his car, you had half a heart attack. He’s pretty, not just pretty, but hot as hell. Just the type of man you prefer. "Thank you, Lilly! Thank you for doing this!" you mumble. "Did you say something?" you hear Jake calling. "Uh oh no, no all good" you answer quickly. You put on a little makeup and think about how to dress. At first, you thought about putting on a pair of jeans and a sweater, but you were here with Jake. And you want to dress up a little more special. Sure, there’s something between you both, but a little styling can’t hurt. You take off your sweater under which you still wear a plain gray top. There’s a little lace on your bra that you can see on your cleavage. So you leave the bathroom to go to your travel bag. You pick out two Tshirts. (Imagine your desire outfit. Please don’t choose a sweater because it doesn't match with the story lol) "Jake, I need your help!" He turns his head in your direction and pulls an eyebrow up as you hold the tops in the air to show it to him. "What is it?" he asks you. "Which one should I wear?" His look brushes both shirts and then your eyes. "Isn’t a sweater and jeans enough?" he asks. "Definitely not for tonight," you grin. "The Tshirt" he answers and turns back to his laptop. That’s not what you expected. "Why not that?" you ask. "You asked me and I told you to take the tshirt," he muttered. "That doesn’t answer my question," you look at him. "And you didn’t answer why a sweater wasn’t enough.I think you should wear a sweater." "All right, then the Tshirt" Not completely satisfied, you go back to the bathroom to take off your top and put on the Shirt. A look at the alarm clock shows you that you should start so slowly. "Did I really need that much time in the bathroom?" you ask yourself in your mind. "Jake? We have to go, are you coming?" you ask him. No reaction. "Jakeeeee?" Nothing. "Jakiee Hello?" You see his lips move slightly as he reads something. You walk up to him stand next to him. "Jake! Can you hear me?" You put a hand on his shoulder. Scared, he suddenly jumps up and grabs your wrist and holds it fast. His face looks shocked. You were also shocked by his quick movements and gasped. Briefly he looks up and down at you to realize that you are and nobody else. His gaze stays on your cleavage for a moment longer until he looks you in the face. His face is ten cm from yours. "Please don’t do that again," Jake breathes and stares into your eyes. "You didn’t listen to me, I didn’t want to scare you, I’m sorry, I should have thought," you apologized to him. "No, it’s okay, I didn’t mean to, did I hurt you?" he looked worried at your wrist. Carefully he strokes your skin with his thumb. "Don’t worry, it didn’t hurt, I was just scared too," you assure him. He’s letting go of your wrist. You just look each other quietly in the eyes. Unintentionally, you get closer. Until Jake suddenly shakes his head and asks "don’t we have to go?". He turns away to turn off his laptops. "Could have worked" you think  and reach for your bag in which your most important things are. Jake takes the car key off the table and comes after you. "Do you have the room key?" he harks. "Yes, I have," you answer his question. Together you leave the hotel and get into his car. You use Google Maps to find the way to the Aurora, and the journey is smooth. Only one song plays softly on the radio. -

I am Not Afraid Anymore Standing in the eye of the storm Ready to face this, dying to taste this, sick sweet warmth I am Not Afraid Anymore I want what you got in store I'm ready to feed now, get in your seat nowAnd touch me like you never And push me like you never And touch me like you never 'Cause I am not afraid, I am Not Afraid Anymore No no no

-

You notice how the mood in the car changes, and breathing is a little harder as you hear the lines of the song. You can see his jaw straining against each other and realize that he is also a little tense. For the same reason as you? You don’t know. His hand is cramped on the gearshift. "Just keep looking out the window" you think. Less than 10 minutes later Jake drives to the parking lot in front of the Aurora.

The others seem to be already there. Outside the door is Dan smoking a cigarette. “are you ready?” you ask the hacker before you get out again. "Yeah, it’ll be fun," Jake mumbles. He tries to smile but it doesn’t really work. You look up and open the door. After Jake locks the car, you guys head for the entrance. You can already see Dan pulling up an eyebrow. "Look at you, the Riddle Queen is here" he calls. "Hey, Dan," you laugh. How naturally he embraces you briefly what you return. "And this is definitely our hacker, right?" asks Dan and looks at Jake. Both look not at first enthusiastic but then Jake stretches out his hand. Dan takes his hand. "Hey, I’m Jake" he introduces himself this time. Dan looks suspicious, but then sighs. "Hi Jake I’m Dan, nice of you to join us, we can use your help" You were just worried about Dan saying something stupid but luckily he says nothing. "Then let’s go inside" asks the bearded and opens the door. “By the way, Lilly already told us that Jake is here. It slipped out of her a few moments ago so don’t be mad at Lilly that we already knew it” Dan explained. "We’re sitting in the corner over there so that we will not be disturbed by anyone" Dan explains. Curious you look around, you have already seen a few pictures but in real life the bar is much bigger. "Hey, MC" calls out a voice. Phil stands behind the bar, smiling. "Hi Phil, this is Jake," you say. You look behind you where Jake stands and doesn’t look happy at Phil. "Hi, sit down, we’ll be right back, my co-workers will be here so I don’t have to work tonight" You notice a hand that lies slightly on your hip and gently pushes you forward. Jake is still looking at Phil, but then at you. He’s smiling, but you can see it’s not real. "We have visitors" calls Dan to the group. Jessy sits with her back to you, looking backwards in a flash. "MCCCCC" calls her and jumps up. Jake quickly takes a step to the side so as not to be run over as Jessy throws herself into your arms. "Wow, I’m looking forward to seeing you too," you laugh. "Finally you are there I could not wait any more" "She really couldn’t, she's been annoyed me off all day at work" Richy laughs. You and Jessy split up so you can greet the rest. Unlike expected, Richy approaches Jake on his own. "You must be Jake, Hi I’m Richy beautiful that you are there, but MC you could’ve told us you were bringing your lover boy with you." Jake slips out a little grin and you hit Richy in the shoulder. "Yeah, next time I’ll let you know" "That was a hint that the next time you bring someone else," Lilly laughs. "No, don’t worry," you blink. "So you can sit there. Actually, that would be Thomas' place but he’s not there yet so you take the two chairs and I’ll tell Phil to get another one," explains Jessy. You go to the other side of the table and sit across from Jessy. To your left is Jake, and next to him is Richy. Dan sits next to Jessy, Cleo sits next to Dan and Lilly at the head of the table. You actually expected a very different reaction, that they’re skeptical of Jake. You’re looking at Lilly and she's looking at you, too. "You?" you speak silently to make sure that Lilly helped. She nods with a smile. "Thank you" you answer. "Now how was your trip here?" Richy asks you. "Long but it was okay. Fortunately there were not so many cars on the way" you take over the talk. "Well, then nothing can go wrong today" Dan answers and looks briefly at Jake. I hope there’s no argument. "Where is Thomas?" you ask in the round. "Maybe in the basement?" Lilly grins, making everyone else laugh. "He’s got something to do" Dan tells you. Jake keeps himself in the background but answers most questions without hesitation. It was clear that there would be many questions. After about half an hour, Thomas finally arrived, who was not even thrilled to see Jake. Thomas still thinks Jake and Hannah were having an affair. He doesn’t really want to realize it’s not true, but he’s probably just overwhelmed with everything. "So, what do you all want to drink?" Phil asks as he comes to your table. "MC, let’s have a glass of whiskey!" Dan immediately shouts. You look at him skeptically. "I do not accept a no" he grins. "Okay, two whiskeys, Jessy, Cleo and Lilly, you’ll have a cocktail as usual, and Richy and Thomas a beer?" What do you want?" Phil asks Jake. "A Coke" he answers. "All right, is coming" Phil grins at you and walk back in the kitchen. Shortly afterwards, a young woman with a apron comes to you with a tray and gives everyone a drink" "For a nice and relaxing evening" Richy takes a toast. Jake and Richy seem to get along quite well. "Finally, closing time" Phil shouts grinning as he comes towards you. He pulls a chair from the neighboring table to yours and falls elegantly on it in the same motion. "At least you’ll have free time tomorrow," Jessy answers and drinks a sip of her cocktail. Dan’s and your whiskey ran out pretty fast, so he ordered two more. You didn’t want to drink much, since you’re gonna sleep next to Jake. And you don’t want to do the smell of alcohol to him. But it was too late to stop Dan. Thomas told him not to drink so much today, but he just laughed. Phil hands you his hand that you accept and shakes it. "So now I have Duskwood’s celebrity finally sitting in my bar, it’s a great honor," says Phil smiling. "You’ll get your autograph later," you laugh. "I assume he’s the second kidnapper, right?" he means Jake. The hacker nods silently. "All right, whats going on here?" Phil asks interested and drinks a sip of his own glass of whiskey. "Spend a relaxing evening and talk about the search," Cleo answers. Phil has pulled back the house ban against Thomas and Cleo fortunately. Jessy said Phil changed his mind because of you. Jessy told him that they were going to another bar but Phil wanted to meet you. You didn’t think anything of it and were just glad the two burglars were allowed back into the Aurora. The conversations are moving towards the forest search and you go through all the theories you come up with. Make plans and consider how you would react in the biggest emergency. "Luckily there are a lot of men here, if something happens I’ll protect you," Phil laughs. "I think MC can take care of herself, that’s what she told me," Richy throws in. "Oh, you can take care of yourself?" Phil’s voice sounds amusing. "Yes, I’m sure I can, but I doubt that the man without a face will ever come near us," you argue." And even if he do, I’ll punch him." Dan raises his glass like a toast and then drinks a sip himself. "I’ll bring a crowbar" Richy looks proud. "Wow" giggles Jessy. "Let’s change the subject, we shouldn’t assume the worst" You look at the glass in your hand. "MC is right. If we’re going to be stressed out by now, we’ll be too excited tomorrow and maybe miss the real Deatils". "What kind of detail should you overlook in the woods?" asks Phil. "After the sign of the raven on the tree in the forest, you never know what else we can find" agrees Jessy. "You’re right," says Cleo. "You’re such little detectives," Phil scoffs. "We’re looking for a murderer and kidnapper of a friend of ours, so don’t make fun of it," you say seriously. "Hey, I don’t want to attack you with this, just a little fun, I mean you’re good at what you do," explains Jessy’s brother. You notice the undertone his voice always has when he speaks to you. It always sounds a bit like he’s making fun of you.His eyes never leave you alone. It feels like he’s watching every single one of your movements. Phil and Jessy are telling a story from their childhood when they had a fight. Again and again he looks at you and it seems to you that he only tells the story to you and not to everyone else. "And then I pushed her into the lake," Phil laughs. "That wasn’t funny, I was scared to death," hisses Jessy. "You absolutely have to come back and then go swimming in the lake.We have a secret place where no one comes. There’s a place for a barbecue and a bench and a table, so I can show you where I shoved Jessy in." Phil addresses you again. He has a crooked grin on his lips and leans back in the leather chair. "Yes I wanted to go with Jessy anyway, she wanted to show me the lake" "Well, I’m in," he winks. All the others are engrossed in conversation only Jake sits quietly on his chair. Until he leans over to you and takes the glass of alcohol from your hand and drinks it with a sip. Confused, you look at Jake putting the glass on the table. "Everything okay?" you ask him quietly. "Yes, it’s all right, it’s not as bad as I thought it would be" "If you want to go, you can tell me," you smile lightly. He smiles back at you. It’s one of those moments where you look at each other quietly. How you’d strongly like to kiss him now. "Phil, you should still make MC the cocktail I made up," you hear Jessy’s voice. You don’t want to take your eyes off Jake. "Right, I almost forgot, but then she has to come into the kitchen with me, I can’t show it openly yet. It’s not on the menu yet," explains her brother. "What is it?" you ask confused. "I made a cocktail the other day, and Phil thought it was so good that he wanted to put it on the drinks list. I told him that you should definitely try it and say your opinion," the redhead explains excitedly. Phil gets up from his chair and runs towards the bar. "Come on," he yells at you and disappears around the corner. "Let’s go," Jessy urges. Laughing, you get up and follow Phil. Jake’s talking to Richy and Lilly again, so it won’t be a problem. "There you are," you hear Phil collecting all sorts of ingredients. "I’m unsure if this tastes good" you share your opinion when you see the chili lying on the cutting board. "Don’t worry, he’ll be as sweet as you" he jokes and winks at you. "This flirt phrase was bad" you grin. "Yes, I agree, but did it still work?" "No, it didn’t, I’m sorry." "I notice you’re making fun of me," Phil mutters as he cuts a tomato. "Tomatoes? How did Jessy come up with that idea?" you ask. "She read something on the Internet and then had the idea. The bar was still closed when she suddenly stood in here and yelled at me that she had an idea, "smiling, he crushes the tomatoes in a bowl. Together with a small piece of chili, he packs both into a Mixxer. "Actually, the cocktail should be called 'Jessy's Special' but with the chilli it is as sharp as you look. Maybe I’ll name it after you, "Phil will make a new attempt to flirt with you. You want to answer but than Jessy come in the kitchen jumping. "And how far along are you?" she asks. "Jessy I’m not a magician," Phil murmurs. "Well, as the owner of a bar, you should be faster," she counters. Phil dumps two liquids in a glass with some ice cubes in it. He puts a straw and a leaf of peppermint. He’s pushing it over to you. You look at it skeptically. He leans relaxed against the counter and watches you again. "Come on, trust me, it tastes good," Jessy tells you. "All right," you give up and drink caution through the straw. "And how does it taste?" "I have to admit, it tastes good, but how much alcohol is in there?" you ask and wrinkles the face because of the bitter liquid. " Actually it’s not supposed to taste like alcohol, that’s the good thing about it," Jessy explains. You hold the glass so she can taste it too. Disgusted, she looks at the glass. "Damn Phil, you put way too much alcohol in there," Jessy immediately complains. "I’m sorry, I may have been distracted by the sharpness in this room," he winks at you again. "Ahhh yaaa?" she looks at her brother. The door is opened and Lilly sticks her head in." MC do you have a minute?" she asks you. You put the glass down and follow her out the door. Your first look goes to the table where you don’t see Jake sitting. "Where’s Jake?" you ask right away. "That’s what I wanted to tell you, he went outside, he just said he needs some air, I’m a little worried. But I don’t know him well enough to ask, but you do, "she explains. You nod your head. Without waiting, you make your way outside the bar. Jake is leaning against the car and looks at his cell phone. "Jake, all right?" you ask as you run towards him. "Sure, I just needed some fresh air," he explains, but he doesn’t sound happy. "Come on, I see something’s wrong, you want to go? We can go back to the motel," you suggest. "No MC it’s all right," he murmurs. "No MC it’s all right" he tries to convince you. "You’re lying to me" "No I do not" Jake looks around but dont look at you. "You need to talk to me or I can’t help you" you sound desperate. "I don’t need any help either, it’s all okay I just wanted some air," he hisses. "Wow okay if you get mad now I go back in. I don’t want to annoy you" you answer insulted and turn around to go back in. "Good idea, go back to Phillip," Jake growls softly, but not quietly enough that you can’t hear it. Immediately you stop and turn back to him "Wait WHAT?"You cross your arms in front of your chest and pull up an eyebrow. "No, nothing" he tries to save himself. "No no no! I heard exactly that! Did you just say I should go to Phil?" "Yes, yes I have" now he looks right in your eyes. You are outraged by this. "What does that mean? What does that have to do with Phil?" "You know it exactly" he prickly kicks a stone aside. "No, I’m sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about." "Oh no? MC here, MC there and MC I really have to show you the lake" he speaks as if he would throw up. "Huh?" you put your hands in your hips. "He’s trying to impress you all the time! All the time! Don’t you notice that?" he hisses and comes one step towards you. "That’s bullshit! Why are you mad at me? Phil doesn’t do anything!" "You really don’t notice it, or you just like it so much that you don’t want to notice it!" "Oh, my God, what’s your problem, Jake?" "My problem is that Phillip flirts with you all the time even though you’re mine!" he throws his arms into the air. Suddenly you understand this strange situation. Whether you like it or not, you just can’t resist smiling. "Why are you smiling now?" he asks desperately. "You’re jealous of Phil," you giggle. "Pff" snapped, he turns away from you. He stands with his back in your direction, looks at the other side of the street and pretends that you are not here at all. He still folded his arms in front of his chest, which is why you take the opportunity to wrap your arms around his stomach from behind. You lean your head against his back and his smell surrounds you like in the car rides. "Oh, Jake, why don’t you say so right away?" you ask whispering. "What are you talking about?" his voice sounds like he doesn’t know what you mean. "You have no reason to be jealous of Phil," you assure him. "I noticed that" he answers ironically. "Richy says Phil’s a fuckboy, so you don’t have to take it so seriously, I don’t either." "You don’t have to think about it all the time, I've to" "You like me, don’t you?" you giggle. "Isn’t that proof enough?" he asks. "I think I need even better proof" you breathe and take another step towards him. "What proof?" he asks nervously. "I don’t know, Jake, be creative." You take another step towards him. Jake is a bit taller than you, which is why you need to look up at him. His eyes sparkle in the light of the lantern. "What are you doing?" he whispers. His facial expressions are a little insecure. "What are you doing?" he whispers. "I will give you a chance to do something" "I don’t know what you mean," he laughs nervously and looks across your head. "Kiss me, Jake" Immediately his gaze rushes back to you. "W-What?" he stutters. "Oh, Jake, that’s what I love about you," you giggle. "What? You love..." Before he can pronounce, you pull him to you by the fabric of your hoodie, stand on the tips of your toes and press your lip on his. Jake instantly stiffens and doesn’t move an inch, but he doesn’t pull his head back, so maybe he’s just too scared. You detach yourself from him and look into his wide open eyes. You just keep looking at him and not saying anything. "Fuck it," he suddenly mumbles. His hand lies down around you on your back and pulls you against him. He puts his right hand in your neck and your lips meet again. Fireworks explode in your stomach, making you warm and cold at the same time. You immediately close your eyes to focus only on his soft lips that move perfectly to yours. You put your hands on the collar of his sweaters to pull him even closer. Easily it turns you towards the car and directs you a few steps back until you feel the vehicle at your back. Your hands go down his neck and run through his hair. His left hand strokes under your tshirt and lies on your bare skin on your back.His hand is cold which is why you gasp for air. He takes the chance right away to steal a deeper kiss.

The kiss becomes more passionate and the hacker pushes even harder against the car.

You pull his hair lightly and a throaty growl escapes him. Your heartbeat stops for a moment and goose bumps form on your body. Oh God, he robs you of all your wits. He seems to know exactly what to do, as if you were meant for each other. Like your whole life was just a preparation for this moment. A wait until he comes into your life. Unfortunately, you are standing in the middle of a parking lot in front of the bar because of the owner you just had a little fight with each other. Your kiss becomes softer until it finally dissolves from you with a heavy breath. Also your breathing is difficult and your heart beats so much that it is unhealthy. "Damn," Jake breathes on your lips and leans his forehead against yours. "You are the best thing that could have happened to me," he adds quietly and without breathing. "Jake, I love you I think you already know this but I don’t want to stay away from you anymore" you explain to him quietly and seriously. It’s true, you don’t feel like pretending there’s nothing there, even though everyone knows there’s something between you that you want to be together. It is fate that your number was sent to Thomas and you learned so this hacker, who now stands before you. And that you got along so well from the first minute, just confirms it. "I tried to fight against that it was just too dangerous for both of us. But the way Phil looks at you and flirts with you, God damn it, i hate that" A small grin forms on your face. "It’s hot when you’re mad" He turns his eyes annoyed but can’t resist a grin. "See, you say a little sentence and I have to grin, it’s not normal," he mumbles. "It’ll be normal from now on," you blink. "We should go back in before the others come out and look for us," you say. "You’re right," he agrees. "Oh, and Jake? Remember, tonight you’re sleeping with me, not Phil. Only you" You just give him a short kiss and walk right the front door. "Um, MC, I think you made a misstake in your sentence" you hear his nervous voice behind you. "Maybe I did, maybe I meant it like the way i said" you turn your head to him and stick out your tongue. "You’re as naughty as ever," he murmurs. "Get used to it, babe, you can’t get rid of me." Before you can open the door, you will be pulled back at the wrist and pusches against Jake’s body. Before you can lose your balance, he holds you tight. "You play dangerous, don’t burn yourself," he breathes on your lips. Immediately your heart beats faster and you get dizzy with the sound of his voice. "Was that an offer or a promise?" you breathe. "It was a threat," he winks and kisses you again. Next to you, the door suddenly opens and a small group comes out. Immediately you break away from each other. "Look, I told you all the time that they are definitely a couple and the others don’t know it," one girl in the group says to another. "Yeah okay, you were right," the other one laughs and looks at you and Jake apologetically. You start laughing and look at Jake whose eyes are already on you. "Ups" you whisper against his lips and release yourself from his grip in opening the door. Immediately the warm air and the smell of alcohol comes to you. "Ah Bonnie and Clyde are back," Richy laughs. Bonnie and Clyde? Doesn’t sound so bad, even if you’re not so criminal, just a little bit. But only because of Hannah. "We thought the man with no face took you," Jessy giggles "Never, who can flee from the government can cope with the man without a face.This is a fool who has no friends!" Dan interferes and makes you laugh. "And MC, did you tell me about my cocktail?" Phil asks. "No, she didn’t, we didn’t have time," comes dry from Jake. "Oh okay calm down" Phil grins mean. "I am calm in person" Jake shrugs his shoulders and sits back on his chair. You sit next to him and steal a sip of his Coke. He looks at you with his eyebrow up." That’s my Coke." "Yes, but I have a dry mouth, it was cold outside," you answered and put the glass back on the table. He begins to grin and drinks himself a sip of Coke. Jessy clears her throat and you look at her. Inconspicuously she pulls up an eyebrow. She saw right through you. She’ll want to know everything tomorrow and text you tonight. "MC, if you still feel like it after the search tomorrow, we can go for a drink, not necessarily in the Aurora, also somewhere else", Phil suggests. Not good timing, Phil, not good. "No, we can’t, we don’t have time," you hear Jake next to you. "How well that I didn’t ask you but MC" "How good that I talked to MC and not you," Jake answers. Under the table you reach for his hand lying on his thigh. You fold your fingers together and squeeze slightly to maybe calm him down a little. "Now it’s getting interesting" Dan leans back in his chair expectantly. "I just want to have a drink with MC and not with you," Phil argues. "And MC has no time tomorrow" "Why not, you have to escape something again? Hacker, you’re a really bad guy." Disparagingly, Jessy’s brother looks at Jake. "I’m what you’d like to be" Jake reaches for his Coke to drink a sip. "Ouh that was good," Richy mumbles and trying to hide his grin by keeping his hand from his mouth. "Maybe everyone should calm down" Cleo tries to save the situation. "I think if MC doesn’t want to she can tell me herself"  Now he’s looking at you. "I’m sorry about Phil, but I really can’t, and tomorrow night after the search we will all be tired" you explain. "You’d rather spend time with a hacker than with a normal person who’s not a criminal?" "Ah exactly because a life in a small town is so much more exciting" Jake grins. "But a life with someone like you?" "You only want one night, Philipp, nothing more" "A night with me is more exciting than a life with you" "Of course you’re right. A life with a bar owner in a small town is much more exciting than a life with a wanted and one of the best hackers in the country" Jake sneers.

You like Phil, but he’s not Jake. You fell in love with him because he’s him, and damn it, running away with Jake is stupid but sounds like a lot of suspense in hotel rooms. "What’s your problem?" Phil asks hissing. "My problem is how you look at my girl," Jake replies with equal resentment and raises your folded hands to put them on the table for everyone to see. "All of a sudden, you’re a couple?" "We’ve been around for a while, but I don’t have to yell it out so everyone knows it, you understand?" "And then you don’t say something from the beginning?" "You know, up to a point, I can understand that you want her, she’s perfect, but from a moment I can no longer tolerate that. And this moment is now, I’m sorry my girlfriend doesn’t want anything from you, but do me a favor and accept it." And right now, Jake won the fight. "Statement" speaks Dan and pretends he has to cough. "And you’re saying that because you’re afraid MC might realize I’m better than you?" "No, I don’t care about that, I mean she sleeps next to me in a bed and not next to you. But I think you should have more respect now that you know you don’t stand a chance." "Crass, it's like kindergarten here. I'm gone, I'll see you in the search tomorrow," Phil hisses and gets up to go. "Oh, and MC?" he starts and turns to you, "if you can't sleep tonight, I still have room in my bed". You're looking the first time at Jake after the conversation . You see a twinkle in his eyes, and you know it's all because of you. "Okay, but don’t wait for it," you answer without looking away from Jake. You put your hand to his cheek and bend over to give him a kiss. Jessy, Cleo and Lilly do "awww" at the same time. Dan gives a choking sound of himself and Thomas and Richy still look confused about the situation just now. "So wait, how long you be a couple?" Jessy asks directly. "We’re not together," Jake answers casually." But how else would I explain it to your stupid brother?" "Stupid brother" repeats Richy laughing what Jake said. Everyone looks at him with no understanding, except Jake, who also grins. "Wait, we’re not together?" you ask. "No" "And why not? I mean, after the situation outside and now in here I thought it was us" "I agree with you, but you haven’t asked me and I haven’t asked you yet." "And why don’t you ask?" "Why don’t you ask me?" he grins. "Because until two minutes ago I thought we were already together" "I’m sorry, I didn’t think this could happen so fast" "Quick? We’ve known each other for months?" "MC, do you want to be my girlfriend?" he asks and grins. "I don’t know if I want that," you look away from him. "Either you say yes now or I take the question back" "This is blackmail," you’re outraged. "3..." "Okay is fine, of course i want" "finally" call the others happily in a choir while Jake stares at you.

"Okay, I really don’t regret coming with you" he whispers against your lips to kiss you for the first time as a real couple

"That took a long time" giggles Jessy.

Masterlist

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#duskwood #duskwood game #duskwood jake #everbyte duskwood #jake x reader #jake x mc #duskwood everbyte #duskwood fanfiction

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Partners {7}*

OA Zidan/Zeeko Zaki x Reader

Warning: Cursing, Angst, Drama, Action, Multiple POV changes, Talk and Mild depiction of Sex Trafficking, Racism Implied, Possibly Triggering Content, Character Drugging, Violence, Groping, Implied Blood, Plot, Mild NSFW, PLENTY OF WORDS

Words: 9k

Summary: You’re a damn good FBI agent in your own right. It is definitely partly to do with how well you’ve been trained and partly to do with you not letting anything or anyone distract you. You have a six-year plan that you’re fast-tracking for four. After being transferred from your office in Tampa, you’ve been sent to New York, which you’ve labeled the “big leagues.” Your first day there, after being introduced to your new partner OA Zidan you realized you’ve moved out of the frying pan right into the pot of distraction. A year later and your growing attraction for your partner still hasn’t been snuffed out.

Note: This is a first for me writing about a TV show and interjecting into it. Let’s see how this goes. I hope you guys enjoy this. As always, thank you for reading.

If you enjoyed this please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

Previous Chapters: 1  |  2   |  3  |  4  |  5 | 6 |

~~~~~~~~~~~

The slinkiness of the dress was not missed by you. Your fingers noticed it once you pulled it from the shopping bag. It was a pretty dress. You checked yourself in the mirror of the bathroom again, turning in every direction so you could see how you looked in a dress you probably would have chosen for yourself in Miami. The black sequins looked good against your skin, and the accent gold chains around your neck that draped down your body between your breasts made them look even more inviting than usual. You wondered who’d picked this dress. While you looked good, if you had to run, it would probably be a matter of time before you had a nip slip or a full-on boob pop out.

You took a deep breath, released it, and leaned closer to the mirror to peer deeper into your eyes. Your nerves were beginning to get the better of you.

 “You can do this, Y/N. You’ve done this before. It’s not a big deal. You know the drill.  You. Got. This!”

 Taking a final breath, you stepped back, rearranged the neck of the dress, checked your make up then nodded to yourself, pleased at the final product. As you walked out of the bathroom and down the hall of the JOC, you tried to mentally psych yourself up. It had been a year since you’d done any undercover work and the nerves never really went away. Once you stepped into the common area where all your coworkers centered, one by one, the eyes drifted to you.

 From the right, you heard a whistle. When you turned, it was Scola.

 “Agent Y/L/N.”

 You rolled your eyes then scoffed.

 “Watch it, Scola.”

 He lifted his hands in defeat as you walked up to Jubal, Kristen, OA, and Isobel. OA’s eyes slowly raked along your body, taking in every detail.

 “This is as good as it’s gonna get,” you joked.

 “You look incredible,” Isobel complimented.

 “Eh, it’s just a dress. By the way, who picked this out?”

 “That would be Kristen’s handiwork,” Jubal said with a smile as he bumped his shoulder into Kristen’s. You picked up on the way she smiled back at him before she focused on you.

 “I see I picked right. I knew you had what was needed to carry it.”

 “All right, all right,” you pushed out, trying to change the subject. “Are we ready to move?”

 “Yes. We’re meeting our informant at a pickup spot near the heights. Let’s move people,” Jubal drilled.

 Everyone went into motion, preparing to leave. The elevator ride was chatter filled as Jubal, Kristen, and Isobel listed things off from the file you had to remember. While your brain was functioning and focused on them, your body was also functioning and focused on OA, who was beside you with his hands clutched one over the other in front of him while he stared at the dial. Though he wasn’t looking at you, your body could feel the energy coming off of his body, and it was responding.

Once you piled into the van, you situated as Lim began explaining the intricacies of the few gadgets you wore, including mics in your diamond earrings, surveillance cameras embedded into the golden chains of the dress, and two chip trackers inside the ring, and an emergency explosive. You were impressed, and you let him know it. Lim was adorable. He always looked surprised to hear a compliment on how well he did his job or that someone noticed. You always made it a point to tell Lim how good of a job he was doing. You believed it was necessary to praise people when they deserved it, especially if you saw it.

 You tried to retain the information you read in the files, along with the faces you saw. You knew the key to undercover work was memorizing as much as you could. Your success in Miami was because you were good with retaining information, thinking quickly on your feet, and solving things with small details that others would not have thought of. Your nerves were beginning to pick up, and you knew it was because while you’d been in a similar undercover situation before, this was a different monster. Whereas the sex club was a dangerous environment, it was a closed environment. With this operation, many variables would be left up to chance, and that were ever-changing. That meant more risk.

 You tried not to look at OA. You didn’t want to give him any indication that you knew he was right and that this was too dangerous. Your father’s words echoed in your head.

 “In this world, because of the color of your skin and your sex, you have to be twice as good and work twice as hard to get to where others would easily get to. You have to never show weakness. They will look for it because you’re a woman.”

 Clenching your jaw, you straightened your posture and did your best to clear your mind. This assignment wouldn’t break you, thought to yourself over and over.

 Fifteen minutes later, the van pulled up at the meet location that Jubal’s informant would come to get you to add to the shipment of women. After Lim checked that you were good with how the gadgets worked and were comfortable operating them, he gave you a comforting pat on the shoulder, a gentle squeeze, and a soft smile that spoke of his confidence in you. As he made a move to get out of the van, he stopped and came back to you.

 “Can I say something I’ve always wanted to tell you?”

 You nodded.

 “Since you came to join us here, I’ve admired you. I think you’re smart, smarter than a lot of people I’ve worked with. You’ve impressed me more times than I can count, and I’m not in the least worried about you knocking this out of the park. Remember how badass you are.” He added a wink that made you smile.

 “Thank you, Ian.”

 “Anytime, Y/N. You’re—you’re great—you’ll be great.”

 With that, he walked out and closed the doors behind him, leaving you and OA. You couldn’t help but smile. He was sweet.

“I think Ian’s got a crush,” OA uttered slightly under his breath.

 “Oh, stop it.”

 He approached you with his arms held out to you. Once he was close enough, his hands latched onto your waist.

 “Should I be worried?”

 You snorted then rose to meet his eyes. “You tell me. Should you?”

 OA studied you for a few moments before he answered.

 “I don’t know. Maybe I should.”

 The warmth from his hands was working to calm some of your nerves. You sighed out, placed your hands on his forearms, and then traced patterns into his exposed skin.

 “Don’t be jealous.”

 “Ya know something; I didn’t think I was a jealous man—before now,” he replied.

 You stared at each other, neither of you speaking. After several long moments, you looked down. OA tipped your chin up, so you looked at him.

 “I feel I have to say something right now,” OA began.

 You quirked your eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

 “You look—incredibly gorgeous.”

 Slowly your lips spread into a wide smile that got wider and wider.

 “I can’t believe the first time I see you like this is for a sting operation rather than our first date.”

 The butterflies began fluttering in your gut, making your knees go weak. You slouched back on the cold table that lined the side of the van. OA’s hands slid down to your hips and squeezed. The action did nothing for the fluttering in your belly, but it helped to stabilize you.

 “Well—maybe you’ll actually get that first date if you get the balls to finally ask for it,” you teased.

 OA’s smile began small until you were staring at his perfect teeth. With no hesitation, he lowered his lips to yours for a sweet kiss that he took control of. His lips trailed down your jaw and back to your ear where be nibbled and licked along its shell. With every lick, the butterflies in your gut fluttered more rapidly, and with every nibble, your sex throbbed. You couldn’t believe you were getting turned on at a time like this.

 “Are you okay?”

 His whisper against your ear made you sigh. It was the question you were dreading. Mustering as much gusto as you could, you put on a tough exterior.

 “I’m fine. As I said, it’s no big deal and nothing I haven’t done before.”

 The more you spoke, the less you believed your own words. When you looked at OA, he didn’t even look to believe your words.

 “You don’t have to play tough with me. I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re lying and when something isn’t as it seems.”

 OA moved his hands from their place on your hips to buckle behind you at the small of your back. His long fingers splayed across your bare skin, making any cold shell you were trying to wear melt away. You sighed again.

 “Okay, I am nervous, but it’s jitters. Everyone gets em’.”

 OA kissed your forehead and kept his lips there for a few seconds. “I know you can do this. It’s never been a question of if you could. It was always, should you? I know you’ve got this because you are the most incredible agent that I’ve known in a long time. You’re smart, quick on your feet, charismatic, and don’t even get me started on what an amazing profiler you are. Plus, your right hook and roundhouse is a thing of beauty.”

 You giggled, then lowered your head to his collar. Even in heels, he was still slightly taller than you. His chuckle vibrated against your forehead, and the tension in the van automatically decreased. When your laughs subsided, you bit your bottom lip and thought about your next words carefully.

 “If this goes south,” you began before OA pulled you back so he could look at you.

 “It won’t.”

 “If it does,” you tried again.

 OA cupped your jaw and slid his thumb along your lips until it was in the center, silencing you.

 “It won’t. You got this, and I have your back. We all do.”

 For some reason, that touched you more now than it ever had before. He always had your back, and so did the team. That was what a team was. You tried to keep your emotions in check, but the longer you saw the compassion in his eyes that felt more and more like something more intimate than compassion, the more your emotions went haywire. You crushed your body to his for a hug. Resting your cheek against his chest, you listened to the drum of his heart, hoping it would soothe you as it had less than twenty-four hours ago.

 “Let me get this out, Omar,” you whispered, feeling your heart race.

 “If things go south, I want you to know I have loved every single minute that I’ve been your partner. Thank you for making me a better agent, and thank you for helping me see sometimes following your heart can lead to great things,” you said, somehow able the keep your voice from shaking.

 Before you could slow your racing heart, OA pulled you back again and crashed his lips to yours, making it race even more. You happen to open your eyes at the same moment he did, and while your lips danced together, your eyes spoke words that had been left unspoken in your heart.

 It took just seconds for OA’s hands to drop to your hips again and yours to begin to quickly fight with the belt he wore. As OA squeezed your hips and moaned against your lips, you managed to free him of his belt and undo the buttons of his pants. When OA’s hands slipped to your backside, he gripped it with such a roughness you knew his need and how closely it mirrored yours. His hands quickly pulled at the fabric of the dress, inching it up over your hips to reveal your thonged ass to the cold surface of the table.

 Finally free of his pants, he turned you, so you now faced the wall of the van. You bent forward, bracing your hands on the table as OA freed his member. When you felt him rub himself against your slit, you shuddered and anxiously anticipated the feel of his intrusion. As he slowly slid into you, connecting your bodies inch by inch, one hand gripped your hip, and the other covered your mouth in time to muffle the deep moan you let out.

 OA sucked in a shuddered breath, then groaned. Once he was buried to the hilt, he circled his hips, making goosebumps erupt all over your skin. OA lowered his lips to your shoulder, bit down on your flesh then began thrusting in and out of you. While his movements were slow, the force with which he rocked into you was intense. Within seconds he’d sped his movements and the force that he flicked his hips. With every move forward, it was powerful enough to have your entire body jerk from it. In no time, you’d begun rocking along with him. When he retreaded, you did too, only to slam back onto him, taking all of him.

 You could tell your movements were driving OA crazy because of the tightness of his grip on your body. He hovered over your back and went to your ear.

 “Habibi,” he whispered. “Aikhtar,” he groaned. “Eshq,” he panted.

 It took those three words to bring you to the horizon of your orgasm, and he must have known it because he sped up, slamming into you, filling you completely. It only took a few thrust and the cup of his large hand against your sex for you to whimper. As his fingers strummed your pearl, heightening your arousal making you more desperate for your release. It wasn’t long before OA was marking you as his from the inside out. 

Slowly both of you came down from your euphoric cloud. Your breathing evened out, the tremble of your body slowed, but your heart still pounded, and you knew it was just for him. Within a few minutes, OA had you dressed and presentable again, and when he was the self-controlled and professional Agent Zidan again, he pulled you against him.

 “I’m going to do everything and anything needed to make sure we get to have that date,” he said while gazing into your eyes with such intensity you knew he meant the words he spoke. “Anything,” he repeated for emphasis.

 Before you could speak, there was a knock on the van, signaling that the informant had arrived and it was showtime. OA pressed his forehead to yours for a few seconds, then kissed your nose before he backed off. You turned to the table, looking into the purse you had, and reapplied your lipstick. When you were sure you were good, you and OA hopped out of the van to join the team with them none the wiser.

 “I really wish we could put a wire on you, but I think you know what we can’t,” Isobel said.

 “I get it. I’ll probably go through a strip-search,” you filled in. Once you said it, you heard OA grumble.

 “We have the jewelry surveillance, so you’re not alone in there. We can’t talk to you, but we can hear and see what you do,” Jubal assured.

 You nodded as you went over the file one last time. Over your quiet surroundings, you all heard the signal. You gave them a nod being careful not to look at OA before you walked away from them. You didn’t think you could handle that. After taking a few steps, though, you looked back at him. He stood there with his arms crossed across his broad chest with the deepest scowl on his face that accompanied his tightly clenched jaw. Deciding to test the tech, you said the one thing you knew you could that only he would get.

 “My back, your back, we got that.”

  ~~~~~~~~~~~

 -OA-

He hated this more than he hated the stares he got his first few weeks at Quantico. Those weeks were a different hell. It was a hell that tested everything he knew about himself and how who he was would connect to his work—if it could connect. Because of his culture and heritage, he got a lot of flack. He’d had to work twice as hard to prove himself even though he’d done two tours in Iraq and had earned his dues and proven himself as an asset. This hell, though, it gripped his heart tighter than anything else. He wondered if it was because what he had to lose was just way in life. If he failed, he would have to live with the shame. Now, if this failed, he’d have to live with much more. Regret. Heartbreak. They were two things he didn’t want any part of. It was your fault.

 He’d fallen in love with his partner. It was the first rule in the book. The first rule that was drilled in his head in every line he went into. In the Rangers, it was don’t get involved with your peers or form any personal or intimate connections with informants or those in the field. In the DEA, it was, go by the book and don’t get involved with anyone on any level. He’d learned how challenging and intricate undercover work was there. Here he was after all these years and all his life experiences throwing the book away, setting ablaze first, though.

 He listened to the informant drill you on everything you needed to know as he walked you to the truck you’d be in. In the back of the van with Isobel, Kristen, Jubal, and the rest of the team, he felt like he was sitting on pins and needles, but he couldn’t show any of it. He knew if he showed too much concern, it would raise curiosity about your relationship's true nature. He had to remain calm and neutral enough for a partner and not venture into the realm of the concerned lover.

 You were so good that as the truck drove with you in the back, you sang a song in French. It wasn’t just any song, though. You fed them intel of everything that was around you, how many other girls were in the back, their descriptions, scents, and any other piece of information that would help with the case. Everyone around him looked pleased, and he knew Isobel was relieved. You were showing in less than an hour why you were the right person for the job.

 “She’s got this,” Jubal said aloud while nodding his head and snapping the rubber band against his wrist, a nervous tick he’d noticed when Kristen was injured in the hospital.

 At the thought of Kirsten, he looked across to her. she was sitting with Ian, and the two were talking closely, most likely about the case, but it made him look back to Jubal for his reaction. The look on Jubal’s face didn’t give much away, but being a good profiler, he picked up on a few things. Jubal didn’t look to like how close they were. He wondered then if you and he weren’t the only ones who were fraternizing.

 The puzzle gave him something to occupy his mind instead of him worrying and thinking of worst case scenarios, and he was glad for it. After almost forty minutes, your reporting notified that the truck had stopped and everyone was being led out.

 “Here we go, people,” Isobel notified.

 The tension in the van returned tenfold as everyone’s attention went to the screens. He tagged the route the truck had taken thanks to the tracking devices you wore and calculated the quickest route to you in case things went south. He watched the feed you expertly gave. You made sure to turn in every possible direction so you could give them a quick lay of the land. Every angle Ian and Kirsten tagged, they let out an audible “yes.” You were making everyone’s job easier.

 You were led into a large house. The interior was decorated richly. The techs worked to make connections with everything in the feed, artwork, photos, and even furniture. Any of it could lead to a break. You stopped for a second, then bent forward, bringing a clear photo of four men into the frame.

 “Get that picture scrubbed. I want to know everything about all of them, even their childhood pet’s name. Come on, people. Let’s get Y/N out of there in under twenty-four hours,” Jubal drilled.

 The van came alive with chatter and activity, and he focused more intently on the feed. With his fingers steepled underneath his bearded chin, he tried to stay present.

 “File in here, ladies. You know the drill. Inspection.”

 He clenched his jaw, hating what that sounded like. He continued watching the feed. He took in the details of the room and guessed they were holding the women in a basement. The women around the room were all dressed in their best. He’d clocked bruises on some and small injuries on others. Having worked an undercover case like this one, he knew the ones with small injuries were probably the older ones that had been acquired over a year ago while the ones with bruises were newer. In situations like these, the older ones, because of their wear and tear, were abused more. They were usually kept on reserve for those with particular tastes. They were deemed the expendable ones.

 When the men approached you, they brought you into another room where two men were waiting. Once they laid eyes on you, they whistled and made catcalls at you.

 “Wow. We have an exotic one.”

 “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

 “Dulce,” you replied.

 “Ah, you were brought in with Snake, part of the special shipment from Florida. He said very good things about the women in that shipment.”

 The man approached you and slowly walked around you before he stopped in front again.

 “Where you from, honey?”

 “I can be from anywhere you like.”

 “she’s good,” Isobel voiced. “She knows giving men like that control means appeasement.”

 “So you’re a people pleaser, huh.”

 “Absolutely sugar. I please people,” you replied.

 The men laughed together before exchanging glances.

 “Well, Dulce, we gotta search you, so be a good girl as I—sample the goods.”

 He watched the man approach you. He didn’t know if he could stomach watching, but he didn’t look away.

 “Ah, very nice.” He sounded like the sleaziest of perverts, and his anger flared.

 The air in the vibe went from tense to uncomfortable. They all knew what was happening. He was glad he couldn’t see your face. As soon as he thought it, you were moved, and you now stood in front of a mirror, and your reflection was now what he saw. The man in a burgundy button-down and black slacks was before you—on you. He walked behind you then brought his hands around to cup your breasts.

 “Son of a--.”

 Clenching his jaw, he continued watching. The sleazeball's hands slid down your abdomen.

 “Everyone look away,” Isobel ordered.

 He did not. When he saw the asshole’s hand creep to your crotch, he was ready to end this whole thing. The look on your face was a detached one. You didn’t look as if it phased you.

 “Hey! What’re you doing? She’s for the boss. No one is to touch her.”

 The informant came into the frame just in time before the perv groped you any further.

 “I’m sure Boss would want us to make sure she’s clean.”

 “You’re just trying to get your rocks off. You know how he feels about the first touch. Should I tell him that you dirtied his entertainment for the night?”

 The two men faced off, but the informant didn’t back down.

 “You’re lucky you’re so high up, Snake.”

 “Shut the fuck up. Know your place. You, out.”

 You walked to the door with Snake behind you. While everyone else in the room released a relieved sigh, he didn’t. This was but a tiny victory. There would be many more tests and close calls before the night was done.

 “I’ll get you to the bathroom upstairs. It is next door to the office. You have three minutes. Use them wisely. I’ll be back to bring you to them.”

 A little while later, you walked into the bathroom and released a breath. He could tell you forgot about the camera on you as you allowed your nerves to show—just a little. He wished he could be there to help in any way you’d let him, but he wasn’t. He even wished you could hear him. After a fifteen or twenty second reprieve, you were sneaking out the bathroom door to the office next door. Once inside, you began rummaging through cabinets, drawers, folders, and even the trash, giving them a glance at anything you came across. You moved so quickly that each analyst worked on each piece of data your lens came across.

 “I think I found something,” you said, opening a folder with the letters “NDB” tapped across its cover. You flipped through the pages giving them two or three seconds each page to capture it in a screenshot.

 “Yes, Y/N, that’s it,” Jubal cheered on.

 “That has to be a record with getting in,” Isobel said more to herself than anyone else.

 “It looks like these are future plans. I have names, dates, locations, pictures even.”

 “That’s all we need, right,” Kristen inquired.

 “I mean,” Jubal began.

 “No. while this is good, we need a clear shot of them all in the room and to hear talk about any attack as well as get them in some sort of incriminating situation. With that, we got 'em dead to rights,” Isobel clarified.

 “Fuck!”

 It was an outburst he hadn’t expected. He’d been trying to hold it together, but the thought of you being there any longer really was not sitting right with him. the eyes in the van trailed to him. No doubt they were shocked to see him lose his cool. No one said anything about it, though. He watched as you snuck out of the office after putting everything back to make it in the bathroom. Once the bathroom door clicked shut, Snake was there to retrieve you.

 “Change of plans. You girls are meant to be eye candy. Sort of like a look but don’t touch event. He likes to use this as his foreplay. Keep a cool head, and remember you’re not trying this on for the day. You live this. Act accordingly.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~

 -Y/N-

Snake led you into another part of the house that was filled with girls and about ten men that were being entertained by the chosen girls. You looked around, clocking your exits and the possible escape routes first, then took inventory of the girls and finally the men. Snake left your side but not before giving you a stern look as if to remind you that your life was not the only one at stake here. You didn’t need a reminder.

 Your encounter in the room was a quick reintroduction that woke your ass up to the real dangers that you’d now found yourself in. Back in Miami, you’d found yourself in a similar situation, and the only way you were able to get through it was to detach from it. You mentally put yourself in the frame of mind of a different person and became them. It made it easier. You knew it was what you would have to do now.

 “Dulce, Dulce, Dulce, Dulce,” you whispered to yourself before you took a deep breath and slowly released it. When you did, you decided to fake it until you had it. Your first move was to take a lap around the room. You still had to locate the SVU agent on no intel. The department was reluctant to share any information for fear of a leak because of the case's sensitive nature and how long their agent had been undercover. So you were running on nothing but the assurance that if possible, they would make contact.

 One lap turned to two, but before you could do a third, one of the men approached you, cornering you.

 “Why hello. I haven’t seen you before.”

 You pasted on a sugary sweet smile and leaned against the wall. “Oh, no? I’m new.”

 The man smiled, giving you a chill.

 “I like new. I like to break in the new thoroughbreds.”

 He grabbed your wrist and began dragging you through the room. His grip was tight, but you didn’t make a sound. You could see he was dragging you toward a couch. From the corner of your eye, you saw one of the girls watching you. Her long brunette hair framed her face, and her plum-colored lipstick gave her a youthful glow. Before you could take in any more details, the man dropped onto the couch and released your wrist.

 “Dance.”

 You hesitated, caught off guard by his actions and the command.

 “All right, darlin, no need to get rough.”

 You swayed from side to side in front of him in slow movements using the time to formulate a plan. Slowly you turned your back to him as you began winding your waist. It was then you noticed a dangerous looking man across the room also watching your every move. Snake approached him, whispered, and nodded in your direction. Bingo, you thought. Adding to the show you were putting on, you trailed your hands along your body and beginning at the outer parts of your thighs, up along your hips. When you reached your stomach, you brought them up to cup your breasts, all the while staring at the man across the room. Turning from him and back to the younger gentleman on the couch, you smiled, bit your bottom lip, and winked.

 “You’re a naughty girl, aren’t you?”

 You nodded.

 “Do you know what naughty girls get?”

 You shook your head.

 “This.”

 The man gripped his appendage and shook it for emphasis.

 “Come get this cock, slut.”

  As he lunged for you, you saw Snake approach. He whispered to the man before he made contact, and the look on his face went from lust riddled to fearful. He straightened his clothes, then walked away.

 “he says get a glass of champagne and sit.”

 You took the glass of champagne that Snake offered you and sat on the now empty couch. You knew that you had him on the hook. You’d expected it to be more work than that. For the next few hours, on the couch was where you remained. You watched every immoral thing the men did to the women and sat through it all. The first hour was difficult because every injustice you saw you wanted to remedy, but by hour two and three, you’d found a way to tune it out.

 A few hours later, you were brought over to the boss. You recognized him from the pictures in the files. His eyes roamed your body, taking in every detail. It was a full two minutes before he spoke.

 “You name.”

 “Dulce.”

 He chuckled. “Ha, the Spanish word for sweet. Are you sweet?”

 “That’s for you to find out, I guess.”

 No words followed. The way he looked at you made your skin crawl. It was the look of a true psychopath. He was the worst kind, though, a hypocritical one, one that sought to subjugate that which he hated. He preached up and down how whites were the superior race, and any others were inferior and seen as dirty, but here he was eying you like he planned to give you a thorough cavity search knowing damn well your skin was not white.

 You took in the details and learned his ticks. From the way his jaw flinched every few minutes to the way he held on to the arm of the chair, you knew he was trying to hold tightly to something inside of him. Men like this often had a secret side to them.

 “Sit.”

 Doing as you were told, you sat. He continued his conversation. Again the girl with brunette hair caught your eye. She was watching every move you made, and that fact alone told you she was the SVU agent. It was a hunch, an unproven one. The mention of an attack had your attention going back to the man seated beside you. His hand came out to clasp your upper thigh. His fingers between your crossed legs holding on as if he owned you. Men like him always thought people were property to own, use, then trade.

 “Just make sure everything goes off without a hitch. We’ve worked too long for his, and too many lives have been lost for it all to be for naught.”

 “Don’t worry. As we speak here, they are setting up the event location. By this time tomorrow, we’ll have our victory. That is why we’re here tonight—to celebrate.”

 You hoped those in the van got that.

 “Maybe it’s time to take your turn,” one of the men suggested.

 The Boss’s eyes landed on you before he brought them to his hand on your thigh. “Soon. You go sit there,” he ordered.

 You stood and walked over to the brunette who’d been watching you for the last few hours and sat beside her. You didn’t want to give yourself away, so you said nothing. In undercover work, you never knew who had flipped. Pretending to be someone else twenty-four-seven took its toll, and many blurred the lines forgetting who they really were. You didn’t know if she was one of them. If she were, she’d give you up in a heartbeat.

 Instead of giving yourself up, you decided to play it cool and observe. One way or another, she would show who she really was. The scene before you quickly got old. No one touched you or the Burnett you sat beside. It was like they all knew their place and didn’t even dare question it. They didn’t touch you, but they sure watched. You’d caught so many of them eye-fucking you it was seriously making you sick. For a second, your mind ran on OA and if he’d seen the scene in the backroom. As quickly as your mind dashed to him, you forced it away. Clear head, you reminded yourself. The easiest way to end up dead was to lose focus.

 A middle-aged man in grey suit pants and a matching grey button-down that was unbuttoned one too many buttons stopped in front of the two of you. He smiled and eyeballed the brunette first, then you.

 She kissed her teeth and rolled her eyes. “Keep walking, Pete. Even you’re not dumb enough to touch one of Lowball’s treats. You know he likes them clean, and you also know what he’ll do to ya if he sees one print.”

 This so-called Pete rolled his eyes, sighed, then walked away mumbling something underneath his breath.

 “Loser,” she finished.

 That was when your eyes met.

 “You’re new.”

 “What of it?”

 She smiled, then continued chewing her gum.

 “What’s your name, sweetie?”

 “Dulce.”

 “Ah, I like sweet things.”

 She trailed her pointer up over your exposed knee until it made it’s way to the hem of your short dress. Once there, it lingered, seductively tracing the hem.

 “Your print doesn’t count?”

 She smiled, then leaned to your ear. Her lips were close enough for you to feel them.

 “Nope. He likes to watch. Take a look.”

 You slyly glanced to the one she’d called Lowball, and sure enough, he was watching the two of you like a hawk on his perch.

 “See. He gets off on it, especially if the new treat has to be broken in. Do you?”

 You turned to look at her, your lips were centimeters apart, but you didn’t back down.

 “Do I what?”

 She smiled, bit her bottom lip then spoke. “Need to be broken in.”

 You slowly smirked then bit your own bottom lip. Two can play this game.

 “Depends on who’s doing the breaking,” you replied.

 The brunette smiled, then closed the gap between you, pressing her lips to yours. Before you knew it, she was taking charge of a sultry kiss. She rolled her tongue around yours then sucked. As she did, you felt her hand cup your breast. Your first instinct was to pull away, but you also knew that was the wrong instinct. This was a test. You allowed her to kiss you, then battled her for control. After a minute, the kiss was still going, but once you thought of it, she pulled away, sucking her bottom lip.

 “Was I your first?”

 You gave her a faux shy smile. “No”

 She smiled wider.

 “Hey, lowball. This stallion is a certified good time.”

 She looked away from you for a few seconds and looked to Lowball before she smiled wider.

 “Let’s go.”

 You allowed her to lead you by the hand through the room filled with sex and drugs until you were in a hall. Neither of you spoke, and when you looked behind you, there was Lowball with his eyes on you.

 “I’m Tommi, by the way,” the brunette said with a smile.

 Soon you walked inside of a bedroom that was made of luxury but built for a sleaze. The room was filled with glass and leather. It even smelled like leather. The more you walked into the room, the more detail you took in. The linen on the bed was black silk, and there was even a mirror above the bed.

 “Go get ready, Tommi. Let me have five minutes with this beauty.”

 Your gut tensed, and Tommi hesitated, looking at Lowball.

 “Aww, you’re going to have fun without me, daddy?”

 Her whine was loud. Lowball smiled.

 “Don’t worry, angel, I promise you’ll be here for the fun stuff.”

 Tommi glanced at you, then back to Lowball, then shrugged as she walked to another door inside the bedroom. Before she closed the door behind her, you noticed her hand making fists in a staggered pulse pattern. Instantly you recognized it as a common sign you’d learned at Quantico. It meant you’re not alone or among friends. Tommi was the undercover agent with SVU. You looked to Lowball who stared at you as if he were trying to figure you out and unnerve you. You wouldn’t let it work.

 “Dulce, cute name. how are you going to prove it?”

 “The easiest way to find out if something is sweet is to taste it,” you teased, uncrossing and crossing your legs again. 

His eyes dropped to them, and that was where they remained. After too long, he stood and walked over to the bar. You heard the clinking of glass and crystal and anxiously waited for either him or Tommi to come back in. when he turned to you again, he held two glasses filled with a brown liquid. When he sat again, you watched him dig into his pant pocket and come back out with a small clear packet with white powder inside of it.

 Fuck, you thought. Many perps who operated sex trafficking rings liked to string their girls out before spending time with a perp. The gossip was the drugs always made the girls more compliant and easier to take advantage of. You watched him pour the contents into one of the glasses. Your stomach fell.

 “Oooh, daddy, now we’re really starting this party,” Tommi interjected as she crossed the room dressed in a sexy burgundy lingerie set.

 “Mmm, you look, wonderful angel,” Lowball complimented.

 He held out the glass that was substance-free to Tommi and held the one that he’d just laced to you. You hesitated. You knew precisely what the plan was after you drank that, and depending on what it was, you had thirty minutes before your choices would no longer be your own.

 “There are two ways out of this room, Dulce. Covered in, or filled with my superior cum or dead. Your choice,” Lowball informed.

 Tommi caught your eye. She sat on Lowball’s knee, rubbing his arm, but her eyes were dark.

 “Take a ride with me, Dulce,” she chimed.

 Sighing, you took the glass and swirled the liquid around, examining how undetectable whatever it was he’d poured in was. You downed the drink in one rise and tried to keep from vomiting. Shit was about to get real, you thought.

 Lowball smiled then stood, making Tommi stand as well.

 “Good job Dulce. I knew you’d see it my way,” he said before he walked away to the door.

 “I’ll be back in as much time as it takes that to kick in. You girls have some fun.

 The door closed behind him, and you gasped. Tommi was beside you in seconds. She dipped a little lower to come face to face with your earrings.

 “She’s just ingested Rolong. It’s a nastier version of Rohypnol these assholes craft themselves. You have thirty maybe forty minutes to figure out a way to grab control of this sting, or else your girl will find herself in a situation she won’t be able to avoid.”

 She looked at you, and though she looked relatively calm, you could still see some sort of panic in her eyes.

 “I have this.”

 She dug in her cleavage and pulled out a syringe. You had no idea how she’d concealed it for its size.

 “What—what is this?”

 “It’s adrenaline. It’s not much, and it won’t have a big of an impact as I’d like, but it will help with the effects. It’ll buy us maybe fifteen minutes,” Tommi explained.

 “Fine.”

 You held out your arm, giving her permission to inject you.

 “It’ll work better to your thigh.”

 Tommi pulled up your dress to find the right spot, then lowered the needle. Before she inserted the tip into your skin, she looked back at you. You gave her a nod to proceed. The injection's sting was sharp, and it felt as if it continued to go for so long.

 “Here we go,” Tommie whispered before she administered the medical cocktail.

 The burn in your thigh began almost immediately. It was a burn that increased, a burn that intensified until it felt like a terrible muscle spasm without the pain. Once the burn subsided, you could have sworn you felt the drug course through your body. It could have been your imagination or the effects of the other drug you’d ingested. You didn’t know.

 “In a minute or two, you’ll feel like you’ve stuck your finger in a socket. Try to remain calm. Remember, when he returns, he will be expecting you to be disoriented and pliable. You have to play along, or he will know something is not right. Do you understand me?”

 You nodded though your head felt heavy, and you felt as if you were about to topple over any minute. The woman in front of you was no longer clear or alone. There looked to be three or four of her. You tried to snap yourself out of it, and that was when you felt your heart begin to race. It began beating ten times faster than it had before. The only other time you recalled it beating like this was with OA. You heard Tommie speak again, but you didn’t quite understand what she said. It sounded muffled and distorted as if her voice was from a static transmission.

 “Come, you have to be ready by the time he gets back,” Tommie said.

 She walked over to the bench in the bedroom and returned with a black two-piece lingerie set along with a pink robe. This was not new to you. Men like these liked to see their prize displayed in as little clothes as possible. You dressed with Tommi’s help. With each passing minute, you felt the effects of both the adrenaline and the drug. Also, with each passing minute, your movements became slower and slower.

 Once you were changed, you looked at yourself in the mirror, and you looked ready to seduce any man. You staggered to the bed and then dropped onto it, unable to even carry the weight of your own body anymore. Tommi sat beside you and opened her mouth to say something but the door suddenly opened. Tommi laid on top of you and whispered for you to play along. She nuzzled your neck while caressing your thigh.

 “Don’t let me interrupt. I think I’ll watch for a moment,” Lowball said.

 Tommi looked at him and smiled. “I have a better idea. Let me entertain you while the Rolong takes full effect.”

 She stood and walked to Lowball, who was seated a few feet from the bed. The sound of loud pop-rock filled the room, and Tommi’s hips moved along with it. You laid there feeling as if there was a war going on inside of you. Two impulses were fighting for control. One impulse wanted to lay there, do nothing and stare at the ceiling that had begun spiraling as if it were a kaleidoscope. The other impulse wanted to get up and dance as if this were the last night you would be alive. Your limbs didn’t know which to listen to. Every time your muscles twitched to stand, your upper body refused to obey.

 Your brain found it next to impossible to think of one thing. It continued to jump from topic to topic, making you dizzy in the process. You tried to fight against the effects of the roofie you’d been given. You tried to aid the adrenalin pumping through your body, trying to work as a diluting agent. Several times time felt as if it lagged. It felt as if even your blinking was slowed, taking forever to close your eyes and open them again.

 When you felt the bed dip, you didn’t know how much time had passed. It felt like an eternity. Looking to your right, you saw Tommi. She came to your ear and whispered.

 “We have ten minutes,” she whispered before she climbed on top of you then pulled Lowball into her embrace. You laid there watching, becoming more and more unsure of what was happening.

 “I think she’s ripe for the plucking.”

 Tommi giggled, then looked down at you.

 “I think we’d have a better time making her watch first. She needs to know what you like, daddy.”

 He looked to be contemplating things, and as he did, his eyes roamed over your body, taking in every detail. You felt a hand slide down your body, beginning at your neck and down the center of your body until it reached your navel.

 “I like that idea.”

 With that, he pulled Tommi to him, leaving you there to watch and listen. Your being must have felt how precarious your situation was because a strong will to fight overcame you, giving you renewed energy.

 “I’ve changed my mind.”

 Lowball pushed Tommi aside and climbed on top of you, burying his face in your neck.

 “The best way to learn is to do. She will catch on quick if she wants to live.”

 Almost as soon as his hands began roaming your body more vigorously, screams could be heard, but Lowball didn’t budge. When he heard the sound of a gunshot and glass shattering, he rolled off of you, dropping to the floor beside the bed. The room began to fill with smoke.

 “Stay here,” Tommi shouted.

 Everything seemed to move in slow motion, but real-time at the same time. You desperately tried to keep up.

 “Snap out of it, Y/N. Get up. Get up!”

 Though you were trying, your limbs were not obeying you. The sound of gunshots became louder and more persistent. Coughing, you tried to focus on making yourself get up. You tried to will your body to cooperate. Clenching your jaw, you screamed.

 “Get up!”

With much effort, you rose then bent forward until you were able to sit up straight. Instead of celebrating this small feat, you willed yourself to stand. You stood then tried to steady yourself. Before you could take a step, someone barreled into you, taking you to the ground. That was when your muscle instinct took over. You swung a punch that connected with someone’s jaw. Not waiting for them to retaliate, you began fighting back, not knowing who you punched. When you felt knuckles connect with your face, it had a strangely sobering effect like a second injection of adrenaline.

 You rolled onto them and proceeded to punch, not stopping. You felt a gun to your back. Before pausing, you punched the person underneath you once more. When you did that, the person behind you tried to grab you but got your robe instead, pulling it clear off you. As they did that, it gave you reprieve enough to do one of the tricky moves you’d learned at Quantico, which allowed you to flip the perp over your shoulder to land on the ground. You scurried around for the gun, praying you found it in time, especially with the fog in the room. When you grabbed it, you used the butt of the gun to slam down into the face of whoever was unlucky enough to find themselves your adversary.

 You stood and staggered to the door, then leaned on it trying to catch your breath. You checked the magazine in the Glock you held. Satisfied, you took a few more breaths trying to overcome your debilitation.

 “Let’s go, Y/N. You’ve got this.”

 You pushed yourself off the door then proceeded to go through the hall, fighting every step of the way. Every few moments, you leaned against a wall to catch your breath. A few gunshots sounded behind you, making you crouch and aim backward to clip the kneecap of one of the despicable men who worked for Lowball. When they reached for their weapon, you shot again, seeing the bullet puncture their chest. While they pushed out their last breath, you continued on.

 Getting to the stairs that led downstairs, you found bodies littered along the way.

 “Stop right there!”

 In front of you, the same man from the inspection stood there, pointing his pistol right at you.

 “Ha, of course, it was you. I knew there was something off about you.”

 “Guess you should have trusted your gut. Lower your weapon, and we’ll offer you a good deal,” you countered.

 “Not a chance.”

 “Listen dickhead. Do you hear that? That silence says your side has lost, and mine has won.”

 He lunged for you, and his shoulder knocked the wind out of you as he took you down, making both of you tumble down the stairs. You felt each step the entire way down. When you’d finished tumbling, you laid there, unable to move.

 “You bitch!”

 He climbed on you and wrapped his hands around your throat, and began squeezing. You gagged and coughed. It was then that the roofie took the strongest hold of you. Your entire body felt heavy, and even the thought of clawing his eyes out was too much. Every time you lifted your hands to do the job, they only plopped back down. You knew you were seconds from blacking out and seconds from death.

 He pulled one hand away, reached into his shirt pocket, and uncapped a needle with his mouth.

 “Let’s see you survive this!”

 He stabbed the needle into the side of your neck that he held with one impossibly strong hand. You screamed as he injected the substance into your bloodstream and, in the same breath, managed to reach the gun that was a few feet away from you and mustered enough energy to aim at his gut. A gunshot sounded, and the man’s movements above you paused for a moment before he tried to begin again. It was enough of a pause for you to take better aim with the gun, this time releasing another bullet in the center of his chest. He slumped forward enough for you to overpower him, but still, he fought. You rolled onto them and released one more bullet right in the center of his head.

 It was then you shouted out before you dropped onto him, then flopped to your back to stare at the ceiling. The sounds of gunshots around you slowed to only a few every so often. You didn’t know how long you laid there. It could have been five, ten, or more minutes. When you felt able, you sat up and stood, using the wall to hold your weight.

 With the gun in hand, you walked through the large home. You felt half-dead, and you knew it was whatever he’d injected you with. Your steps became slower and slower. Your movements more and more lagging. Still, you continued pushing through door after door, trying your best to fight. You slowly pushed through yet another door and found bright scope lights and red laser dots on your lingerie-clad body.

 “Freeze!”

 You tried to raise your hands but only made it halfway.

“Y/N!”

 Hearing OA’s voice, your body finally gave out. Before you touched the floor, OA was there, engulfing you in his arms.

 “I got you, baby. I  got you,” he whispered.

 You felt him tapping your cheeks, making you look at him blearily.

 “Are you hurt?”

 “Help me up.”

 OA used his strength to stand you up. Kristen was to your side in seconds, and in a few more seconds, OA had draped his FBI jacket around your shoulders before he scooped you in his arms. Unable to fight the drugs in your system any longer, you passed out sure of your safety in OA’s arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

***If you want to be tagged/untagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!*** 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#partners fic #oa zidan #oa zidan fanfiction #zeeko zaki #zeeko zaki fanfiction #oa zidan x reader #oa zidan x you #oa zidan x black reader #fbi fanfiction #black fanfiction #angst fanfic

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Hey! I just read the last part of the BTHB and I can't get enough of it!! So, if you'd like, for BTHB, is it okay that after supervillain gets all healed up, he leaves. Then when the hero agency gets to know that hero saved him, they want to punish her/execute her by death? And supervillain saves her? But she's still too injured to do just anything

And, if you're not comfortable with this, feel free to ignore!

Thank you for the ask! I changed it up a bit, just a smidge, like a little bit because I think it would make it more dramatic, but not too much. Hope you enjoy!

And this got long... so I apologize. I still don't have the ability to put a readmore.

Muddy Rain Part 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 ... if you guys like this series, I will have to make a masterlist for it soon!

@shydragonrider

Warnings: (i made two lists, one for Hero and one for Supervillain for those who aren't comfortable with lady whumpees) alcohol mention, broken bones mention, attempted murder,

Supervillain: chloroformed, drugged state of mind, limping, not healing, past trauma, memories of torture, low self-esteem, shocked by stun gun, tranquilized

Hero: restrained, kidnapped, shocked by stun gun, bleeding, knife wounds, unconsciousness, manhandled

~

Hero awoke slowly, finding her arms wrapped protectively around her ward. She sighed, looking down at his slowly breathing figure in the darkness. She didn't know if he would ever get better.

Six months later...

"Hero?!" Supervillain called from the other room. "Breakfast is ready!"

Hero smiled, biting her lip as she set down her book, and walked into the horrible smelling kitchen. She wrinkled her noise, taking in the state of her kitchen. The windows were opened with tiny fans blowing the thick, smokey air out of the hot room. Egg yolks and melted butter practically painted the counters with their yellowness. Strawberry juice was splattered across the white sink with at least ten kitchen knives tossed carelessly into a pile, waiting to be washed.

The waffle iron, coated in batter, was steaming hot and did not look like it was properly doused in canola oil.

But, amongst the mess, Supervillain beamed over two plates of charcoal colored waffles and cut up strawberries.

"Why thank you," Hero said and tried to grab her own plate, but Supervillain ripped it out of her reach.

"I got it," he said, smiling a wavering smile. Almost instinctively, Hero looked away, but knowing curiosity got the better of her.

She glanced back at Supervillain, trying to avoid looking at his shaking arm- the bad one, the one with the broken clavicle- as he carried both plates to the coffee table in the livingroom. She tried not to take much note of his funny gait either- the way his knees seemed to buckle as he walked, completely devoid of strength.

She tried not to look because of how hard Supervillain tried. How he tried to cook meals for Hero and how he dealt with jobs that he didn't necessarily enjoy- all to support Hero for all she did. He worked as a graphic designer, playing around with computers, when he would've rather been a baseball coach or an engineer.

"Thank you for breakfast," Hero said, sticking her fork in the waffle and eating it like a popsicle, trying her hardest not to grimace as her tongue was temporarily numbed by a clump of baking powder.

Supervillain blushed, his still pale cheeks turning rosy in color, as he winced at the state of his own plate.

"I could be better," he whispered, more to himself than anyone, so Hero ignored his obvious show of self negativity.

They remained in silence until a loud knocking interrupted them. Hero looked up, heart pounding, as a foreboding feeling rose in her gut. Supervillain half stood up, using his hand to balance his shaking body, but Hero gently pushed him back down.

"I got it," she told him softly and walked over to the door. Her hand hovered over the knob for a moment before she turned it and-

She was thrown backwards onto the ground and before she knew it, she was pressed against someone's stomach, arms pinned.

"Let me go!" She growled, kicking and stepping at her attacker's feet, but someone else came and quickly zipped her ankles up with cable ties.

"Hey!" She cried, using momentum to thrust herself forward. Only, she had no balance with her newly tied ankles and fell to the ground.

Her wrists were tied next and she was lifted to her feet, but suddenly, her attacker froze, giving her time to assess the situation.

There were five of them, masked. One held a bag a cable ties, the others were completely empty-handed, and one was manhandling Hero.

"Let her go, now!" Came Supervillain's familiar voice, though this time taut with rage and fury, but also a hint of fear.

She didn't see it, but felt it. The one holding her nodded and the other four rushed towards Supervillain. One grabbed a bottle of something most likely nasty and dumped it over a rag. Hero's heart jumped. No, no, no, no, no...

Her attacker spun her around, kicking in her knees to make her sit on the floor. She looked up and saw Supervillain with a gun in his hand.

"Knock him out," her attacker ordered. His voice, frighteningly familiar.

"No!" Hero screeched. "Stop! I will do what you want, just don't touch him, please."

Her hair was grabbed, head yanked back.

"I know you will, because if you don't, he will die and you know it," the man snarled. "But he will still fight for you, no matter our terms of agreement."

The four masked strangers attacked Supervillain, pushing him to a sitting position on the floor. He struggled, but only for a moment before a drenched rag was stuffed into his face.

"No," Hero whimpered, hardly able to watch, but her attacker held her head up to watch the whole event.

After a few minutes, Supervillain's frantic struggles turned into sporadic twitches as his body screamed for air.

"Stop," Hero said, voice thick with tears and face wet with them. "You'll kill him." She said the last bit in a whimpering tone.

"Who cares, he'll be out of the way."

Supervillain sunk into the stranger's arm, not yet unconscious. For a moment he hung there, head lolling in the rag and the hand holding it. Then, he looked up at Hero, his gaze faraway and glassy, before his eyes rolled into his head and he collapsed to the ground.

"Please," Hero begged. "At least bring him to the couch, please. He-" She stopped, not wanting to spill Supervillain's weaknesses, but it already seemed that all was lost. "He has a hard time standing up when he wakes and the drugs won't make it easy. Just, please." She melted into her attacker's arms, crying.

"Bring him to the couch," her attacker conceded after a moment’s hesitation. Two men each grabbed an arm. Hero stiffened when one cruelly pulled on his bad one. They dragged him to the couch, his head rolling uselessly on his chest.

"As for you," her attacker spoke. He stood up, walked in front of Hero, and ripped off his mask. Hero's body gave a nervous twitch when she recognized her colleague, Superhero.

"You are going to come with us," he finished, grabbed Hero and dragged her out of the house.

《~~》

Supervillain came to rather slowly, whimpering and crying out in pain as his head banged ruthlessly around. A dense feeling of nausea rose in his throat as the room, when he managed to open his eyes, spun.

For a moment of incoherence, he believed that he was hurt again, laying half-consious on Hero's bed as she gingerly cared for him.

But, as his senses returned, he realized that her touches were vacant and his legs weren't wrapped in the immobilizing padding.

Only then did he muster the willpower to completely open his eyes and draw his memories towards any prior events. Though, he found that if there were any, they were distant and vague- much like his memories of the month in which he hardly woke up, unless for necessities like medicine or food.

He became aware of his breathing, and then the placement of his body. Arms were strewn all over the place as if he had no control where they ended up. He flinched as a few moments of recollection came over him. Panic, rush, and the feeling of many hands on him.

His nose and mouth stung painfully, though he knew he didn't have a cold or a sniffle or anything. Not even allergies.

Then it hit him. His memories. Hero being restrained with cable ties, grabbing the gun, the rag over his mouth, lungs burning, Hero's screams, then nothing. Nothing at all.

He was drugged.

He suddenly pushed himself to his hands, only for them to crumble under his weight as an intense feeling of lightheadedness overwhelmed him. He groaned, hands flailing as they tried to clutch at his rollercoaster for a head.

He had to get up. Hero was in danger.

He swung his legs over the side of the choice, only for them to go extremely weak and splay out from underneath him. He let out a sob, head pounding painfully.

Get up.

He used his arms as leverage to shove himself up, then stumbled towards the wall, leaning against it heavily. He took in a shuddering, deep breath, lips pressed into the cold material.

He didn't know how long it took, or exactly remembered it either, but eventually he found himself slumped over Hero's motorcycle. He felt like he was going to throw up and then collapse.

But he couldn't, had to save Hero.

He swung his leg over the seat, ignoring the agonizing grinding of his still-healing bones, and sat there, waiting for the dizziness to fade.

His vision cleared and he turned the vehicle on. Revving it up, he drove sloppily out of the driveway.

He recognized the voices of the men who came. Heroes, particularly the gang that tortured him all those months ago. Supervillain's thoughts drifted for a moment, but then he found himself veering off the road.

"Snap back into it," he whispered to himself, voice hoarse. He concentrated on the road the best he could, but the way the yellow lines melted into each other was very confusing.

Okay, think, think, think, he willed himself, gripping the handles until his knuckles went white. The garage, a mechanic's garage, where he was kept at was on the far side of town. He knew it because that was where Villain worked, and Villain...

No, stop. He couldn't go that route, but his drugged mind was still traveling down that path. The sledgehammer, food just inches from his reach, the utter helplessness...

A car honked, loud and earsplitting. Supervillain sighed, he had to keep his thoughts under control. So he blocked all thinking and paid attention to the way the road melted under the motorcycle's tires.

Before he knew it, he was pulling up to the familiar building. Old, broken cars guarded the entrance to where his torture took place and with that knowledge, he went there, knowing that was where Hero was.

He crept through the cars, legs throbbing and moving stiffly. Every so often he would stop, grab at a car, and catch his breath. He was so useless, so, so useless.

Don't think that way, you have a job, you make money, you support Hero...

He stood up straighter and walked into the garage, fear clutching his chest. In there was a world of pain- something Supervillain wanted to forget.

For Hero, he would do anything. She saved his life.

Supervillain slid his hand over the doorknob, freezing as he heard the ringing of the bells- a sound that used to bring him such hope. A hope that someone would see him, or care enough about him to save him.

"Be there in a minute!" Came a familiar yowl. Supervillain started backwards, panic rising in his throat as anticipation clawed at his chest. The woman that spoke was not one of the people who broke in. No, she was more sophisticated than that. She was...

Villain.

Supervillain looked at the tall lady in front of him, trying not to glance at her heels- oh the memories of those steel prods digging into his already gnarled flesh.

"Hey honey," Villain spoke sauntering over. Supervillain slid down onto the floor, overwhelmed with anxiety and fear, just as Villain's cold hand ran through his hair. He stiffened, muscles tensing.

"It has been a while. Want some tea to drink as we catch up?" Her petting increased, her fingers pulling at the strands.

Supervillain risked it and shook his head. "I-uh," he stammered. Gosh, he was scared. So scared. Him, the greatest supervillain in the city, was scared to the point of trembling. Maybe he would blame it on the chloroform, but deep down he knew that was a lie.

Oh how he wished he was home, trying and failing to make a batch of muffins.

"What was that, dear?" Villain murmured.

"Where's Hero?" He rasped, instantly cowering in fear.

"Oh Hero? That little bastard? Oh yeah, she's currently bleeding out at an alarming rate," Villain purred and stopped rubbing Supervillain's head- much to his relief.

Supervillain whimpered, his body screaming at him to find her, but primitive instinct kept him rooted to the ground.

But, after a few moments of fighting himself, Supervillain stood up. Villain backed away, face taut with amusement.

"What are you going to do?" Villain taunted. "Hmm? You couldn't even save Hero from five men and now there are ten out there, armed with deadlier things than chloroform."

Supervillain squeezed his eyes shut. Don't listen to her, don't listen to her...

"Her life is worth more than mine," Supervillain growled, as he pushed past his former captor. He could see a smirk rise on Villain's lips.

"Yeah... it really is, isn't it," Villain chuckled. "You worthless scum." She spun around and kicked Supervillain's knees. He tripped, blood rushing through his ears, but stayed upright as he gallantly walked into his old home.

The smell of countless oils and grease hit his nose, and following that, the familiar scent of exhaust. He grimaced, remembering his utter inability to breathe on busy days.

But even those memories washed away at the sight of Hero, bloodied and unmoving, with people shocking her endlessly with stun guns.

"Hey!" Supervillain yelled, grabbing a pipe wrench in one hand. The people torturing Hero, stopped and turned around to face Supervillain who was swaying on his feet- from the lingering fatigue and fear.

"Leave her be," he growled and stalked up to them. One shrugged and zapped Supervillain in the side. His body seized as white flashes illuminated his vision. Gasping, he fell to the ground, right next to Hero's body.

"Well now we have two to have fun with boys! But, let's head in and grab us some whiskey first!" A chorus of cheers followed that.

Supervillain was still out of breath by the time the men left to go get their alcoholic beverages.

"H-hey," he rasped, slowly bringing his hand to caress Hero's face. She was unconscious, but at his touch, her eyes blinked open.

"Hero?" Supervillain croaked, relief flooding his veins. He slowly sat up and dragged her limp body onto his lap. She groaned, and that was when he realized that he jostled a whole array of injuries.

They were tiny, nothing that a strong and healthy person like Hero wouldn't be able to recover from, but they were aimed to kill.

Unlike Supervillain's torture that aimed to cripple and harm him mentally and physically.

Those lethal injuries were knife wounds, some small, others large. They spanned from her chest, all the way through her torso and down her arms and legs. It was to be a slow, and painful death, Supervillain noted. None of the wounds touched a major artery.

"I'm gonna help you," Supervillain whispered, tucking a long, wavy piece of her hair behind her ear. "Like you did for me." When did he get so cheesy? Hero did this so much better.

"Y-you don't need to pay me for what I did," Hero murmured in reply, unfocused eyes focusing for just a moment. "I-i," she winced, groaning loudly, as her bloodstained hands gently brushed a particularly nasty gash.

Supervillain shushed her, putting a finger to her bruised lips. "Quiet," he said, and brought an arm under her knees and another supporting her upper body.

He gasped for breath as he lifted her limp and heavy body. His limbs shook with exertion, but he forced himself to walk... one step at a time.

He was nearly at the door, ready to press the botton to open the large, garage door, when something shot into his neck.

He gasped. Aching pain sprouted from the spot. Glancing down, he saw blue and white feathers.

A dart.

"No," he gasped, using his elbow to press the botton. He knew the tranquilizer. He had maybe ten minutes before the sedative would kick in.

He had to move.

Slipping under the door, he ran. Moving his stiff legs faster than they had in a while. He didn't look back- that would just slow him down.

He sat Hero on the seat, slid in behind her and drove away.

After about ten minutes, like Supervillain predicted, he started getting horribly tired. He glanced behind him to see an SUV slowly following him.

"Think," he whispered to himself, pressing his face into Hero's back. Around him was a dense forest. If he just turned...

His body acted without thinking it through. He turned sharply, only for the motorcycle to crash into the guardrail. Him and Hero went flying, crashing into trees.

Just before their bodies connected with the river below, Supervillain flipped Hero's body over so he would take the full shock of the fall.

His body hit the rushing water. Pain shot through his ribs. But before the tranquilizer fully hit, Supervillain was able to grab onto a tree trunk and throw Hero over it.

Then he blacked out as a wave of water crashed over his face.

#supervillain whumpee #hero whumpee #hero caretaker #hero whumper #villain whumper #heros and villains #chloroformed whumpee #drugged supervillain #drugged whumpee #hero x supervillain #tw alcohol mention #unconscious hero #past torture #tw torture #whumpee meets whumper #attempted murder #manhandling tw #blood tw #knife wounds #shocking #lots of tags #i hope i did the chloroform part realistically #google wasn't that helpful

[slipping-through-my-fingertips]

Klaine it up! 2, 7, 12, 21, 50

Okay...I got this. PROMPTS FOUND HERE

2 - you accidentally sprayed them with yogurt when you open the lid the wrong way. 

This was not Kurt Hummel’s first time opening yogurt but it might’ve well have been. He was sitting at a picnic table in Central Park on his lunch break from Vogue.com having just picked up a BLT, sweeten iced tea, and strawberry yogurt from his newfound favorite sandwich shop. It just happened to be two blocks down from the Vogue offices too. 

After eating half a sandwich, he found himself watching three young girls practicing their hula-hooping skills. Of course, while entranced by the colorful swirls of plastic, Kurt grabbed his low-fat yogurt and pulled at the lid, and the minute he did another man was being dragged by his golden retriever over to Kurt’s table. 

Before he could stop it, a splash of light pink yogurt was splattered across the front of a bright blue polo. 

“Shit, I am so sorry,” they both said. 

Kurt had a lap full of puppy and the man covered in yogurt. 

“She’s really friendly and has a fondness for bacon,” the man said, gesturing to the sandwich. “And who can blame her.” 

With that comment, Kurt pushed his meal away slightly. Out of reach of the dog’s mouth. 

“I usually am way more careful with my food,” Kurt said. 

The handsome man only laughed, “it’s no big deal, do you happen to have a napkin?” 

“Oh yes!” Kurt reached into his bag to grab one. 

“Thanks,” he said, “come here, Lacey.” 

The puppy sat right at his side and waited. Kurt stood up to wipe the yogurt away while the man kept Lacey still. 

“I can...” he started to say but Kurt was already pulling away having cleaned it up the best he could. 

“Lacey and I also share a fondness for cute boys but I don’t suppose...” he trailed off, blushing. 

Kurt still wasn’t used to being flirted with but this wasn’t small town, Ohio. 

“And who can blame you,” Kurt replied, already grabbing a pen and paper from his bag to write on. 

THE REST OF THE PROMPTS CAN BE FOUND BELOW THE CUT

7 - you both do the side-to-side dance when you try to pass them in the grocery store aisle

Kurt told his dad to pick up an extra heavy whipping cream three days ago when Burt asked if Kurt needed any other ingredients for Thanksgiving dessert. He told him. 

“I only need 3 things: dark chocolate, heavy whipping cream, and almond extract.” 

Burt had gotten everything but Kurt needed whipping cream for both the chocolate mousse itself and the whipped topping he planned to make. Now he was at the crowded grocery store one day prior to Thanksgiving. Exactly where he didn’t want to be. 

 Of course, every grocery store made you walk all the way to the back of the store for dairy products. I’ll just grab milk and eggs real quick, you think, then suddenly you have a cart full of snacks you didn’t need. 

Kurt found the red and white carton fairly quick. He backed up and started to make his way to the self-checkout. Before he could think about the temptation of potato chips, he was stopped by another body. 

They both stopped and shifted their feet to make way for the other. From right to left and back again for several seconds before both falling into pits of laughter. Kurt looked into deep hazel eyes that twinkled at him. He wondered how long he could do this dance just to stare at them some more. 

“That’s my fault, I came around the corner too quick,” he said. 

Not quick enough, Kurt thought, we could’ve fallen to the floor. You on top of me would be quite nice. 

“No, it’s all me,” Kurt replied, “I should’ve been watching where I was going.” 

He fumbles into his pocket for a business card. Isabel’s one-month anniversary gift. 

“If you’re in town longer than tomorrow, I’d love to buy you some coffee as an apology,” Kurt said, handing the card over. 

“Oh.” Kurt watched him scan the card, flipping it over in his hands. “I’d love to, Kurt.” 

A shiver ran down his spine. Maybe he should thank his dad for forgetting the cream. 

12 - you kick a ball and your shoe flies off, hitting them in the back of your head

Blaine used to hate having an older brother. Growing up, he felt constantly in competition with Cooper’s larger-than-life personality. Now that Cooper had settled down in LA with Lisa, his wife, and had two wonderful kids, having an older sibling didn’t seem too bad.

It was summer break, Blaine was free to leave the confines of his NYU dorm room. He was trying to get lost in the sunshine of California to forget he was about to start his final year of college. Time with his niece and nephew was sure to put any nervousness out of his head. 

They were playing soccer in the park when it happened. It was bound to. Everyone in LA was hot. It was like the law. 

Cute boys and Blaine’s non-existence coordination weren’t a good mix. 

Blaine went to kick the ball and caught sight of a bicep. An unusually pale bicep. A rare sight in sunny Los Angles. Arms, Blaine fantasized, he’d love to see wrapped around him or possibly pushing his legs apart. 

He was sure he tighten his laces. This is why Blaine Anderson didn’t wear sneakers. Missed the ball by an inch but the force of his kick sent something flying through the air directly towards the cute guy: a sneaker. 

It happened so fast, Blaine heard the yell of surprise before realizing his sock was exposed. Once he realized what happened, he rushed over to the man. 

“Fuck, I am so sorry,” Blaine said. “Can I do anything?” 

“Well, an aspirin would be great,” the man teased. 

Blaine sat in the grass and chuckled. Still extremely embarrassed. 

“Not exactly the fairytale I always dreamed of.” 

“Fairytale?” Blaine asked, scrunching up his nose in confusion. 

“Cinderella,” he said, like it was obvious, “a lost shoe as it were.” 

“I’m not Cinderella,” Blaine told him, “sorry to say. I’m more of a Blaine.” 

“Kurt.” 

“It’s nice to meet you.” 

“I do believe this is yours,” Kurt said, handing over the shoe. 

21 - Almost spilling a drink because you met their eyes and got distracted thinking how cute they are. 

His dad always said pour your drinks yourself. Blaine became that friend who grabbed drinks for everyone for this reason exactly. He wasn’t sure what the occasion was exactly but his study buddy from his songwriting workshop invited him. It was at some loft in Bushwick but Blaine didn’t mind the adventure. 

Until tonight he had no reason to venture to this part of the city. 

“Blaine!” Elliott exclaimed, pushing a solo cup into his hand, “Drink up, karaoke at eleven!” 

Then he disappeared into the crowd. Blaine headed straight for the kitchen and poured the toxic mixture down the sink. He found a new cup and started reading the labels of the bottles spread out across the counter. Mixers and any alcohol of your choice seemed to be available. 

Rum and coke sounded good. He went into the fridge for a cold soda first. Blaine was happy the kitchen was empty he wasn’t quite ready to start making friends. As far as he knew, Elliott was the only friendly face here tonight. 

He poured the rum in for some semblance of tracking his alcohol intake. The last time he got drunk, he dialed the professor he TA-ed for, who thankfully overlooked that incident. Blaine cracked open the coke and while he poured surveying the living room. 

People were dancing to an upbeat pop song that Blaine strangely didn’t recognize and others were mingling in doorways or sat on scattered sofas and chairs chatting. He caught a pair of blue eyes in the crowd. 

The man they were attached to was stunning. If he hadn’t blinked, Blaine could’ve mistaken him for a marble statue carved by the gods. They didn’t lose eye contact as he walked towards the kitchen. It wasn’t until the man stood on the other side of the counter that Blaine noticed his hand was covered in soda. 

“Papers towels are behind you,” the man offers. 

Blaine set the now empty can down and spun around for paper towels to clean up his mess. 

Just great, he thought, make a fool out of yourself. That’ll score you some points. 

He cleans up his hand before wiping down the puddle of bubbling coke on the counter. 

“I don’t think we’ve met,” he continues, “and this is my party so I like to know all my guests.” 

“Your party?” Blaine stutters. 

“It’s my birthday.” 

“I’m Blaine,” he introduces. “Elliott invited me. We have a class together.” 

“Oh, you’re Blaine. From songwriting workshop.” 

“That’s me.” 

Elliott’s obviously talked about him before to this man. This gorgeous, completely out of Blaine’s league man. 

“God, he’s relentless,” he says. “I’m going to kill him.” 

“Um, might I ask why? I can leave if there’s an issue.” Blaine knows when he isn’t welcome. 

“No, no,” he replies, “don’t go. It’s just he’s been trying to set us up for months now.” 

It all clicks.

“Oh god, you’re Kurt.” 

“That’s me, the birthday boy. and you are Elliott’s idea of the best gift ever.”

Blaine blushes. “I don’t know if I can I've up to that but if I can have the next dance I can try.” 

Kurt nods. “I’d like that, Blaine. A lot.” 

50 - getting paired up on an amusement park ride that requires even-numbered riders

All of Kurt’s friends hated rollercoasters. Rachel didn’t like heights, Elliott refused to do anything with loops, and Santana, well, she was too caught up in her new girlfriend to be bothered. 

“I only wanna hear screaming tonight,” she told him. 

So, Kurt waited in line himself. Some fun day at Coney Island this was turning out to be. He was so glad he was spending the day with friends. Kurt rolled his eyes. 

The woman directing the ride gave Kurt his row number and moved down the line. Behind him someone tapped on his shoulder, Kurt turned around and found himself looking at a curly-haired man around his age. 

“Guess we’re both odd men out then, I’m the single rider in my group today.” 

“Oh, um, no, my friends were too chicken to even ride,” Kurt said. 

“I’m really surprised Wes and David are good to go. They both hate being upside-down.” 

Kurt smiled.

“I'm Blaine, by the way.”

“Kurt.” 

The ride emptied out and Kurt crawled over to the far seat. They buckled themselves in and listened to the instructions to keep all body parts inside at all times. Then, the bar came down and the ride launched. 

After the ride ended, Blaine and Kurt were chatting all the way down. Wes and David trailing behind them.

“That second loop really threw me,” Blaine was saying. 

“I saw,” Kurt exclaimed, “I thought you were going to fall out of your seat.” 

“Downfalls of being short and compact.”

When three more people joined their day at the park, no one questioned it. 

#this was a lot at once but SO FUN #monica's inbox #my fics #klaine drabbles #meet cutes

[ciggylungz]

Rivals. c2

Rivals: chapter 2

3.2k words

Summary: Y/n and Harry are both CEO’s of their parent’s companies since they inherited the businesses from them, they’ve been rivals since they were kids- now that they’re professional adults how will their rivalry affect them?

__

When Friday rolled around Y/n was excited, she’d had a grueling week and been working 18 hours a day for the past 6 days so she was more than thrilled to have a break. Friday’s were usually pretty tame in the office, but just her luck that day a new product design was dumped on her desk and she was tasked with going through the mountains of papers filled with advertisement ideas, promotion pictures and commercial ideas for the new line of clothes and perfumes coming out for the winter season since they were a few weeks away from December. Due to the time crunch she couldn’t really afford to push it off, so she sat at her desk and reviewed everything well past her normal hours.

It was around 7 in the evening when she pulled out the bottle of tequila she kept in her desk for late nights like this, grabbing some ice from the office kitchen and a tonic water from her own mini fridge stashed in the closet in her office. She kept the lighting low, her eyes already feeling the strain of the fluorescent bulbs and fine print papers after hours of reading and she’d like to save the headache for the next morning if possible.

She was a tad bit startled when a knock sounded at her office door, she glanced to the clock seeing it was nearing 10 at night and she knew her assistant left at 8 so she was a surprised by the interruption. Of course, he had to be the one knocking. Even through her mild intoxication she could tell that curly mop of hair as him, his face joining his locks a second later as he waltzes into her office. His lips were tugged in a small smile, hands holding a binder with a plastic bag cradled in his left one.

“Ah! Getting a bit wild in the office tonight? Tequila, you naughty girl!” he gave her a fake disapproving look companied with a stern finger pointing between her and the now half empty bottle. Y/n was always a bit looser after a drink, so she didn’t have her usual bitter comeback loaded she instead felt a strange shot of happiness? Relief? Fondness? She couldn’t put her finger on it. It was too foreign of a feeling to be associated with the man. The woman didn’t understand why she didn’t feel the sense of loathing tugging at her when he spoke, instead she let out a small laugh before flipping him off.

Harry was surprised yet pleased at her reaction. He always loved tipsy y/n, the booze seemed to soften her overly serious nature and make her a bit sweeter. They had some of their best moments together after they had a good buzz going, they’d even had a few instances of cuddling during their alcohol induced haze. He remembers those times fondly; he thinks back on them at times when they’re arguing or in the middle of a grudge holding session. Harry knew she’d never admit it, but deep down behind all her walls she really was a loving, sweet girl. She always had been yet her pride and fear of vulnerability would never let her admit it.

“Hello Harry, any reason you’ve broken into my place of work?” she tipped the glass back to her lips, taking another sip of her cocktail as she waited for his response. She watched him set his things down, shrugging his suit jacket off before rolling his sleeves to his elbows. “Saw you through the window, was workin’ late myself. Thought misery needed a bit of company, and knowing you I knew you’d probably need a designated driver for the night miss tequila.” He lifted his eyebrows in a slight teasing manner, a smile growing on her lips as she giggled quietly, raising her hands in surrender. “bad habits die hard, huh?” she retorted, the smile didn’t drop from her features and Harry loved it. She always had such a beautiful smile. Her plushy lips molded into the shape, her braces did their job giving her a perfect even smile. She had a genuine smile on, he could tell by the way it met her eyes that seemed to brighten when she was in a good mood. She was beautiful. He truly didn’t understand why she had always been so self-conscious. he hated when she’d talk negatively about her looks, weight, body etc. He’d always found her to be a very beautiful woman, and her strong personality amplified that even further.

“That they do miss Y/l/n, they do indeed.” He agreed with a nod, reaching his hand into the previously noted bag pulling out some bread, followed by small slices of cheese and finally a container of grapes. They both shared a love for the particular grouping of food, often having it for snack as kids or packing it when they went on little trips with their friends. It was their thing in a sense. He might amp it up a bit to feel a special bond with her in some way, even if it’s just over a love of the same foods.

“Brought some goodies, might share with you if you’re nice to m’.” Harry made himself comfortable on the couch, toeing off his shoes to leave him in his red dress socks. He liked to have accent colors when he dressed for work, often opting for pocket squares, socks or collar pins to tie together his outfits. He had decided early on just because he was in a work environment didn’t mean he had to dress boring, he worked in fashion for Christ sake so he enjoyed a bit of complimentary accessories. Tastefulness is key though, and he knew how to pick them right.

Y/n polished off her drink, reaching to pour herself another mixing it with a coffee straw she snagged from the kitchen during her original venture out. the woman shrugged slightly, taking a sip with a little smack of her lips at the strongness. She went a bit heavy on the tequila this time around.

“Eh, I’m on a diet anyway.” Her response amused Harry, chuckling lightly before popping a grape into his mouth. He always appreciated someone with a quick wit, and Y/n checked that box for him. He was starting to realize she checked most of his boxes regarding things he found attractive…and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

__

It was nearing midnight when Y/n started to show signs she was fully drunk. Her head bobbed slightly, body lightly swaying and Harry saw her eyes flutter every so often. He could read her like a book, he knew she was stressed, tired and wasted just from a single glance. The man found it quite cute, she looked so soft and cute when she was in this state. She radiated that type of energy that made you want to hug her; she wasn’t as guarded and flighty. She looked utterly trashed but relaxed and he didn’t mind the drunkenness if it meant she wasn’t as worked up as usual. She worked hard; the woman deserved to let loose once in a while.

“Hey, think it’s time to head out hmm?” Harry slowly sat up as he spoke, stretching with a few quiet pops of his joints. Y/n lifted her head slightly, giving him doe eyes and a pouty lip. “but I have work to do…” a hiccup sounded after she spoke, making her body jolt slightly. “It’ll be there on Monday, it’s late and you’re wasted love. C’mon time to go, hey don’t get all misty eyed on me it’s okay. Swear it’s alright, everything will get done.”

Harry frowned mid-way through his sentence seeing her eyes gloss with tears. She could be quite an emotional drunk, she bottled up her feelings 24/7 so in any sort of weakened state she began to crack. Harry had seen it only twice in the thirteen years of knowing her. The first time they were 15, she’d just broken up with her boyfriend at the time who was a total douche and he’d spent the six months the pair were together practically bullying the girl and mainly spending the time they had together fucking her. she had gotten absurdly drunk and walked to Harry’s home, sobbing and shaking only to spend the rest of the night cuddled into his chest. it was a toxic relationship and Harry always hated that guy; he gave the boy a few swift kicks to the ribs a few days after the incident. The second was during spring break, the pair were freshly 20 and someone had groped her at the club. Y/n had a panic attack on the bathroom floor and Harry sat with her the whole time, even though the filthy floor was sticky with booze and god knows what else he didn’t even think of leaving her behind.

Y/n took in a deep breath nodding her head slightly, letting Harry put the bottle back in it’s hiding spot and organize her papers before getting himself situated and heading to the car. With some episodes of tripping over her own feet and dizziness he’d managed to get her into the passenger seat, buckling her and joining her in the vehicle.

__

 “Y/n no, you can’t smash the window! Where are your house keys? Put the rock down”

Bargaining with someone who’s intoxicated was never easy, but he was worried about the woman chucking a random stone through her first-floor window instead of just unlocking the door. Drunk minds aren’t the soundest he supposed seeing as he was prying a rouge rock from y/ns hand.

Eventually the keys were located and used to forge entry into her modest town house. Unlike her parent’s y/n wasn’t into flashy mansions and cars. She didn’t see a purpose for such a large home when she was the only resident, plus it creeped her out knowing there would be more room for potential squatters if she had opted for an 8-bedroom 6-bath mansion like her parents had for the 3 of them. She was never someone who fancied showing off expensive thing, she found it tacky and risky because you’re flashing to people that you have expensive things to steal. So, when she purchased a home, she opted for a modest 2-bedroom town house and she really did love it.

Harry was greeted with a subtle scent of cedar and nutmeg, reminding him y/n always opted for fall themed candles and home fragrances. She felt it made places feel cozier and warmer. contrary to her guarded and sometimes cold personality, she always wanted her home to feel welcoming.

Her décor was nice, a large leather couch with some dark red throw pillows along with a fuzzy blanket folded and draped over the back of the furniture. Some arm chairs also filled the Livingroom, art hung evenly on the wall and a tv mounted right in the center of the adjacent wall. A nice area rug and coffee table really finished off the center room, it was an inviting set up and Harry had to resist the urge to sit on the large couch that seemed to be calling to him as he started walking her up the steps.

The bedframe groaned as she flopped herself down on her mattress, a content sigh leaving her lips as the woman kicked off her shoes. “mmmm love my bed, missed it.” The woman placed an affectionate pet to her pillow, Harry laughing slightly at her antics whilst searching her dresser for clothes to change her into. Pinching a pair of sleep shorts and a tshirt before tossing it on the bed making his way into her bathroom so she could change in private.

Once the girl was situated, he reappeared, picking up her dirty clothes and putting them in her hamper for her. everything was going well, they weren’t fighting and she seemed to really be enjoying his presence but because Harrys an idiot he had to ruin it.

“maybe if you weren’t such a raging bitch, I wouldn’t have to come take you home and you’d have a boyfriend who could huh?”

He intended it to be their playful teasing, how they usually pick on each other and make rude comments but it came across harsher than intended. He sounded utterly mean and spiteful, and after Y/n had spent the evening warming up to him and even enjoying his company that felt like a smack in the face. Just when she thought maybe he’d changed or wasn’t so bad he had to make a comment, picking a topic she was already very sensitive about because all her previous relationships were very abusive and put her in the position she was in now of being so guarded and cold she was left to a life of loneliness.

There was a beat of silence, Harry registering his tone and how he’d just switched the atmosphere entirely. There was no sense of playfulness anymore, just hurt and anger. He regretted ever opening his mouth, seeing the woman look away from him with veins visible on her neck from the restraint she was using to hold back her tears. She cursed herself for drinking, it always made her more sensitive and she felt like a fool for not seeing Harry was just waiting for her to become vulnerable so he could strike back even when truly it wasn’t his intention, his actions left her with only that theory to believe.

Y/n cleared her throat and shot him the best glare she could while her eyes burned with tears begging to escape. “You can see yourself out Harry.” The dismissal was curt and quiet, there was no option for bargaining or pleading because she didn’t want to hear anything else he had to say. Harry knew when to pick his battles with her so he knew it was best he left, sighing slightly before leaving the bedroom making sure he locks her front door for her on his way out. he’s never wanted to beat his own ass so bad in his life.

__

 As much as Y/n tried to hide it under her cold, blunt exterior- she was extremely insecure and broken inside. She never learned how to express her emotions or hurt. Y/n never had parents there to guide her nor comfort her in her times of need. She’d never had anyone who cared about her to look out for her besides neglectful nannies who left her to her own devices most of her childhood. She was emotionally stunted, and it had made her vulnerable to shitty people her whole life. It led to her having a 17-year-old boyfriend when she was 13 that pressured her into losing her virginity and emotionally abused her the entirety of their year long illegal relationship. It put her in the position of having a revolving door of toxic abusive relationships with cruel boys who treated her poorly, her father was never around so she never had an example of a good man so she resorted to getting attention and validation in whatever form she could even when it was harmful and a façade to use her body and status. The woman was never taught how to handle her emotions and it led to her clawing for control in any way she could, any sort of distraction and turned her to dark, destructive behaviors in her teen years that still haunt her in the form of physical and mental scars now that she’s in her adult years. She’d practically had to raise herself, and now that she’s grown, she’s running the company that stole her parents from her. she can’t tell who she hates more, her parents or herself.

Harrys word seemed to pop the stitches on an internal wound she thought was close to healing. While he was joking, she couldn’t tell. It was said with such a bitter malice it made her skin crawl. Sure, they’ve been mean to each other for 13 years but in her vulnerable state and the knowledge he had of her past his words seemed deliberate and cruel for the sole purpose of hurting her. not a stupid joke like he’d intended.

She couldn’t get it out of her head, she spent the remainder of the weekend nursing her hangover and a wounded soul. Her mind was screaming self-hating words, cruel statements towards herself and pushing her to look for comfort in another person again even when she knew she was vulnerable to falling back into the arms of yet another man who wasn’t good for her but she couldn’t bring herself to care enough about herself to make the best choices for her. she felt like she had something to prove to Harry, herself and the universe that she wasn’t so horrible that no one could stand to be around her even if the person she chose only stuck around to leech off her. it was a stupid mindset, one that’s left her torn to shreds numerus times since her early teenage years but the spiral Harrys verbal bite sent her into had her internally turning back into 14-year-old y/n who just wanted to feel like she mattered. She was setting herself up for pain again, she knew it. But like she stated before, old habits die hard.

and y/n decided she must be a glutton for punishment when her fingers started typing in the familiar number of her ex.

#harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #rivals #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles drabble #harry styles x yn #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles concept #harry styles au #CEO!harry #CEO!yn

[pettyprocrastination]

Panty & Bambi

Francisco “Catfish” Morales x Roller Derby!Reader

Summary: Helena Morales celebrates her 12th birthday at the roller rink, where she plays cupid for her kind father who’s attention has been captured by a confident skater that danced about the rink. 

Warnings: profanity, uhhh mention of alcohol?? Frankie being a fucking BOTTOM about buff thick women lmao. 

Word Count:2.9k

Perm Taglist: @honestlystop​

authors note:Wrote this because I’m sad about not being able to do derby this season and i’ve been watching lots of bouts to comfort myself in it lmao. Big inspiration to @qveenbvtch​ who wrote a fucking MAGICAL javi rollerskating fic called Ring My Bell!! It’s so fucking good read it here !!!!!! Big thank you to my boo @captainsamwlsn​ for reading this for me ILY Thais so fkin much <3

“For her next birthday could your daughter pick something that isn’t fucking murder on my knees?”

Frankie stared at his friend and god father to his now twelve year old daughter under the flashing fluorescent lights of the roller rink before taking a sip of the cheap beer in his hand. “Don’t whine Santi.” Frankie laughed.  “We both know you’d do anything for her.”

Which was true. 

Helena had only been a baby when the group went to Columbia to take down Lorea. They had always been a close-knit group of friends, but what happened on that trip, that shit-show of a mission, made them appreciate having each other even more. They visited Tom’s family when they were able to, the first few months after his death his ex-wife wouldn’t even let them on the front lawn. She took to screaming and cursing at them for his death, they didn’t tell her about the teenage boy that took her ex-husband’s life to avenge his brother. 

Tess did in fact get into Harvard. She sent Pope letters from time to time. She didn’t blame him or the others for her father’s death like her mother did. The boys couldn’t say the same for themselves. 

But the family they did have, the sweet chunky cheeked little infant girl Frankie was proud to call his daughter? Oh they all worshiped her. Little Helena had them all wrapped around her finger from the moment they set eyes on her. 

The men had been there for every tea party, fairy tale, and birthday. They watched her go from mashing cake into her mouth at one years old to laughing at a skate rink with her friends at twelve. 

Frankie had been there for everything and his boys were there to help him. 

He couldn’t say the same for Liana. 

“Twelve years brother.” Pope remarked. Frankie groaned and let his head fall forward. 

“You don’t have to tell me man. Where did it all go?” He looked out on the rink with a smile, watching his daughter skate with ease on the polished wood floors while Ben wobbled along next to her, looking more like a baby taking its first steps than a grown man. 

“It feels like just yesterday I was changing her diapers, now she’s in eighth grade.” Frankie sighed, released the vice like grip he had on the neck of his bottle. “Fuck man, I’m not ready for her to go to high school, I don’t know what I’ll do with myself.”

“You’ll do what you’ve always done for her, ‘Fish.” Frankie looked up to see Will standing at his side, setting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be there for her. Which is more than I can say about half of the dead beat dads out there now.”

“Dad!” She called out, her pigtails swaying as she turned to him, hands held out with a big grin. “Come on!”

Frankie ignored the pop of his knees as he stood up with a groan. 

“I’ll pray for your back hermano!” Santi called out with a barking laugh as his friend slowly stepped onto the rink with shaking legs

Frankie couldn’t give his little girl the world no matter how much he wanted to, he was just one man. But damn if he wouldn’t skate with her at her birthday party. 

Helena took his hand in hers as they skated, which he knew was more for his safety than hers. But he still felt his heart clench at seeing just how small his daughter’s hand was compared to his.

“How are you so bad at this!” She giggled upon seeing his knees buckle for the third time in two minutes. While Helena had taken to roller skates with ease, the same could not be said for her father, who clutched onto her hand like a lifeline. 

“Mija, the last time I was on wheels like this was before I broke my ankle skateboarding.” A woman skated by them, the wheels on her skated lighting up a bright pink each time they made contact with the floor. You turned, skating backwards for a moment with a carefree smile before turning forward again. 

Frankie’s knees buckled when Helena’s hip bumped against his.

“God-” His daughter snorted. “Maybe if you stopped staring at that lady and focused more on skating you wouldn’t be wobbling like an old man on a walker!”

His head snapped to his daughter like a whip, for a moment uncaring how he nearly lost his balance. “I am not-I wasn’t-did you just call me an old man?”

His daughter simply stared up at him with that smug little grin that he swore Santi taught her. 

“She’s pretty.” His daughter noted, he spared another glance up, feet sliding across the floor as he did. 

You skated around another couple, hips swaying to the song playing over the speaker and hands raised high over your head. You brought one foot in front of the other in a sashay along the rink, gliding over the floor with grace that Frankie couldn’t even try to get as he gripped his daughter’s hand for dear life while they skated along the inner rim of the rink. 

His daughter tugged at his hand, which had gotten arguably more sweaty when he realized that you would be passing them once more. “You should say hi.”

Frankie shook his head and offered his daughter a smile. “It’s your birthday ‘lena.” He reminded her. “You should be having fun with your friends instead of worrying about your old man’s dating life.”

Helena tilted her head in thought before smiling and letting go of her father’s hand. “Okay!”

“Wait-wait!” Frankie shot his hands out to balance himself, without the help of his daughter he felt even more off-kilter and out of his element. “Where are you going!?”

His daughter laughed before joining her friends that had skated ahead of them. “You told me to have fun with my friends! So I’m going to!” She looked behind him and smiled so wide he felt his heart drop. “Have fun dad! You got this!”

“Helena Maria Morales if you don’t-” Frankie’s threat was cut off when his legs wobbled against, one foot shooting out to steady him, except he was on fucking roller skates, which only caused his foot to slide out from beneath him and send him tumbling onto the hard floor beneath him. 

Had it not been for his skating savior that is. 

You shot forward, one hand gripping the collar of his shirt meanwhile the other grabbed the waistband of his trousers to steady him. On instinct his hands gripped your hips like you were a life preserver and he was a man lost at sea. 

“You alright there buddy?” Frankie simply stared at you, throat tight and mouth wide open as his bright wracked for a single thought, a single word to say to you. 

“Jesus Christ.” Santi groaned from the other side of the rink. He and the other boys sat watching in equal parts awe and dismay at their friend being caught like damsel and then absolutely flounder in front of you. “Say something you idiot!”

“Oh this is painful.” Ben snorted. “I don’t want to look away!”

“I’m uh, yeah I’m good.” Frankie realized as you pulled him upright how fucking strong you were, and it made his knees knock together for a whole different reason. His hands tensed and he realized he was still holding onto your hips. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine, really.” You held up a hand to silence him, his mouth snapped shut as if it were a trained command. “I know you aren’t some creep trying to cop a feel, I’ve been watching you skate for a while now.”

Frankie looked down at the floor. “Yeah well, the last time I was on wheels was when I was sixteen and tried to impress a girl at the mall by grinding on a rail with my skateboard.”

You slowly took his hand in yours and began to skate forward, slow smooth steps that he did his best to mimic. He was so focused on not falling he hadn’t realized that the pair of you were skating like a couple. “Did it work?”

“Fuck no!” He laughed. “I broke my ankle, lost a tooth, then she and her friends all laughed at me.”

You smiled at his story, noting the way the multi-colored lights bounced off his profile. “Well, I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t break an ankle or lose any teeth tonight, alright Bambi?”

Frankie’s feet wobbled again and tightened his grip on your hands, marveled for a moment at how soft they felt against his. “Bambi?”

“Yeah.” You offered him a slight shrug, he still wasn’t sure how you could skate around others with such ease while also maintaining a conversation, but was thankful for it either way. “You both have brown hair, both have shit balance-”

“Gee thanks.”

You giggled and flicked the tip of his cap. “Let me finish.” You scolded. “You both have shit balance, and you're both pretty fuckin’ cute.”

Frankie felt his heart race and his lips curl into a shy smile. He watched the colors that danced over your form like a kaleidoscope. “Well my actual name is Frankie-” The tip of his skate dipped forward, catching on the floor and sending him careening right into your arms. You kept your feet together at an angle to keep from falling, hands grabbing onto him as he barreled forward, arms thrown around you and nose pressed against yours. “-but I guess Bambi is pretty fitting too.”

“Well Bambi-” Frankie felt a tingle down his spine every time you called him that. A nickname so sweet and innocent had no business making him feel so hot under the collar. “How about we take a break from trying to keep you from falling flat on your ass and go sit down for a bit? If your daughter doesn’t mind that is.”

He looked over your shoulder, where Helena stood with two of her friends, smiling wide and flashing her dad two thumbs up. 

“I don’t think she'll mind.”

```

“A pilot?” You whistled, leaning back in his chair. “Damn, you’ve got me beat. I’m just a high school English teacher!”

Frankie shook his head, toe tapping on the linoleum floor of the little snack corner of the rink that pair of you were sitting at. “Now I wouldn’t say all that. I mean, spending your entire day dealing with teenagers who definitely don’t want to be there? You must have the patience of a saint.”

You bumped your knee against his. “We’ll now you’re just trying to flatter me.”

Frankie held one hand up and the other over his heart, as if he were taking an oath. “All truth here, coming from a former AP English kid.” You gasped and held one hand over your chest and pretended to swoon. 

“An honor student of my subject? Be still my beating heart!” Frankie snorted into his drink, which caused you to in turn laugh loud enough for the people in front of them to turn and glare. 

He had always hated dating. It felt so forced, so uncomfortable. The icebreakers were only met with bland replies of women who clearly weren’t interested in him, and only became less interested when they learned he was a father. That or they would praise him for being so “brave” to raise his daughter on his own. What, as if he was supposed to walk out on her just like her mother did? It turned him off to the whole situation. 

But this? Sitting in the tiny snack corner at a roller rink, sipping overpriced sodas and laughing loud enough to annoy people while staring at the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen? Oh it was better than any date at a four star restaurant he’s been on. 

“Trust me.” He told you. “You would’ve hated me as a student.”

“I could never!”

“Oh yes you could!” He laughed. “I fell asleep in class all the time, never answered questions and uh honestly?” He pulled his hat low over his face with a shy smile. “If I had you as a teacher? I’d never get anything done.”

His eyes flicked to the sleeve of your shirt, seeing your biceps strain against it as you leaned over for your drink. The shorts you wore hugged the thick muscle of your legs and he felt his throat tighten up at the thought. 

You smiled and pushed his cap up so you could see his brown doe eyes. “I’m gonna take that as a compliment, Bambi.”

 Santi watched the pair of you, nearly nose to nose when you leaned in close to toy with his hat. He smiled and bumped Will’s shoulder. “Look at ‘em go. ‘Fish still has it.”

“That’s our boy.”

They had all gotten the call when Liana left, she had simply packed her bags in the middle of the night and vanished. Leaving Francisco and their six month old baby alone. They knew how much it hurt him to see her leave, how much he blamed himself and wracked his brain for how to fix it, how many times he called her and pleaded for her to come home. If not for him, for their daughter. Their little baby girl who wouldn’t stop crying because she was hungry and mommy was gone. 

But to see him now, blushing like a school boy while talking with a woman who his daughter practically pushed him into, they all felt a swell of pride. 

If any of them deserved a happy ending, it was Catfish. 

“If he doesn’t ask her out-” Ben sighed. “I’ll kill him. Just fucking murder him.”

Sadly, just as Frankie was about to ask that dreaded question, if he could get your number or hell, if you’d like to get a drink sometime, a woman with bright pink hair poked her head over your table. 

“Hey panty!” She called out and Frankie damn near got whiplash at that nickname. “Can you give me a ride home? My car is busted and my boyfriend can’t pick me up.”

Your shoulders deflated at her response and Frankie couldn’t help but feel a little prideful that you felt dejected to leave his side. “Yeah no problem Jammie.”

“Thanks!” The girl chirped. “I’ll meet you outside!”

When she left, Frankie turned to you with a slow smile, his eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Panty?”

“Ughh I know!” You groaned into your hands. “It’s not some weird nickname or anything it’s just my derby name I swear!”

Frank leaned back, eyes wide in admiration. “You play roller derby?”

You grinned, shoulders back and confidence oozing off of you at the mention of your sport. You tucked your hands behind your head and Frankie took that moment to marvel at the muscle that strained against your shirt. “Damn right I do. Not to brag but I’ve been the MVP for the last three seasons.”

It was absolutely a brag and he loved it. 

“You know-” Your eyes flicked to his, shy and skittish. “-we have a bout, a game, this Saturday if you want to come. It’ll be here, at eight. You don’t have to-”

“I’ll be there.” He promised. The thought of you in those spandex shorts on skates, being positively brutal to other women on the track with that confident grin? Christ, he wouldn’t miss it for the world. “I’ve never watched roller derby before but, it’s recently piqued my interest.”

You smiled, raising your foot to knock it against his. “Well I hope it keeps you interested Frankie, because you’ve piqued mine too.”

Frankie felt a swell of pride in his chest at your shy smile and sweet words. He felt like a kid back in high school, trying his best to woo the girl in his biology class with passing notes in hopes of getting a date. 

Only this time he had more experience and a lot less acne. 

“Panty!” The woman shouted. “Lets gooo! I work the morning shift tomorrow!”

Your face fell. “Looks like that’s my que to head out. I’ll see you Friday though?”

“Fuck yes.” Frankie breathed out, before regaining his composure. “I mean uh yeah, yeah I’ll uh, see if I can make it.” You laughed and stood up from the table, turning on your heel at the final moment to press a quick kiss to his cheek. 

“I’ll see you then, Bambi.” You purred, before walking out of the door and past His daughter and three grown ass men, who stood in a circle nearby like a bunch of gossiping old women.

Frankie didn’t even have a moment to realize you kissed him before his daughter bounded over to him asking eighty questions within two seconds.

“What's her name? Is she cool? She seems cool! Are you guys dating now? Did you ask her out? Did you get her number?”

He brought this daughter in for a hug, bringing his hand down on the crown of her head in a playful nuzzle. 

“Alright speedy gonzales.” She laughed into his side and tried to wriggle out of his bear hug. “No more matchmaking, you hear me?”

“But it worked! Didn’t it?” His stern facade melted away at the excited grin on Helena’s face.He sighed, letting his chin fall onto the top of her head. 

“We’ll just have to wait and see mija.”

His daughter whooped in victory, throwing her hands high in the air in celebration. 

“That means it worked!”

#Panty & Bambi #frankie morales #catfish morales #francisco morales #francisco morales x reader #catfish x reader #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #the meaning of her derby name will make more sense in the next chapter i SWEAR

[seasidewriter1-writes]

Answering Asks from @fadingclamalmondrascal : “Hi! I hope you're still doing asks, but I understand if you're not, it sounds like you've got a lot going on. I've got 3 questions for you:

1: What made you want to adopt this story and write an "Anakin's big sister who falls in love with obi" au? What about it appealed to you initially, and what about it keeps you coming back?

2: I love Elara's Sith name! Carus is so cool. What kind of thought did you put into that name and her sith design?

3: What does your writing process for each chapter look like?”

Hi!! My asks are always open, and even if my life his completely hectic, I’ll always get around to answering them! But, thankfully, my life has started to calm down in the last week. I’ve gotten a lot of writing done in the last day, so I’m in a very “Balance” mood, so I’m super stoked to answer these!! (I also wrote a lot again, so buckle up!!)

1. So fun backstory on my finding the story: I was living in England for my first year at University, and I was on a big ol’ Star Wars kick because The Force Awakens had just come out in December. It was January. It was cold, the evenings were getting rainy, so one night after dinner and scrolled through FFN to find something fun to read. And when I first found and read the original story, pre-adoption (which I believe is still up and called “Another Skywalker”), I remember being like ‘wow, this is an interesting concept.’ And as I read it, in my head, all of these ideas were coming to my head; and I remember being kinda sad about that. I didn’t want to write my own story, then have it seem like I’d ripped off the concept from the author. Because this was the first fic with the “Anakin’s older sister falling for Obi” concept that I’d ever seen. I didn’t know if it was something of a trope for an Obi x OC pairing, or if this one was an odd one out. So I finished reading the 11 chapters, and the author had posted a note saying that the story was, effectively, up for adoption. I have never jumped on something so fast. I drafted out two scenes (a now obsolete scene where Elara sees Obi-Wan off to Kamino, and a chunk of the final battle RotS) and sent it to the author. When she told me that the story and concept were all mine to do with as I pleased, I was so excited. Because I realized that all the ideas that had been tentatively brewing in my head, I could now fully bring to fruition.

What initially drew me to the concept was the idea of being able to explore a story and a romance that is, in a way, a foil to Anakin’s. Almost a way to show that maybe, if things had gone differently, Anakin and Padmé’s romance didn’t have to be doomed. Because I have always believed that there had to be some way that it didn’t have to end in disaster. Presenting a Jedi OC x Obi-Wan can explore similar issues (and there’s a lot of fun to be had with that concept, too). But then you have two people who were raised with/to follow the same ideals. Though they are both unique individuals, they will come up to very similar blockages––struggling with breaking the Code, with sloughing off ideals and a way of life they’ve followed all their lives. But with a Skywalker OC… that changes. You get someone who wasn’t raised to keep her emotions in ultra-check. Someone who, like Anakin, is family oriented, passionate about protecting those they love, and innately wishes to express their emotions in a more open manner. Those characteristics present unique conflict (particularly in conjunction with Obi-Wan’s characteristics), and I just… I wanted to, and continue to want to, play with that. Because Elara is dedicated to the Jedi Code. She’s a good Jedi. But put her want to be a good Jedi (for herself, for her brother, for the good of the galaxy) right up against an undeniable, innate need and want to love (because, at her core, Elara is just a purely loving person)––you get whole other obstacles to overcome. It’s a lot of fun to figure out how her overcoming her obstacles helps Obi-Wan overcomes his, and vice-versa. How we can see, in recent chapters, that Obi-Wan realizing he can’t hold Elara at arm’s length anymore affects her; how she starts being more gentle towards him again, tentatively letting him back in. I just love playing with stuff like that!!

And there are a whole lot of things that keep me coming back to this story. One of the biggest things, I think, has to be the idea that ‘love prevails.’ I love myself a complex romance. Maybe that’s why I love Regency/Period Dramas so much; because there are so many ups and downs––and that’s what makes it feel so good! Because while there’s hope and love and happiness, there’s also drama and frustration and confrontation. But through all of that, at the end… love prevails. I’m a hopeless romantic, I’ll own up to that any time of the day. So seeing a couple, so hopelessly in love, go through trials and tribulations and come out on the other end completely alright? That’s my jam! And when you’ve got someone who stands so steadfastly by their ideals as Obi-Wan, but who very clearly is… so passionate and loving… That just feels like the way a love story with him would go. And ‘love prevails’ doesn’t just apply to the Obi-Lara stuff either. It’s about the familial love between Anakin and Elara, and how that love for each other may thrive or suffer in events to come… it’s the platonic love of Elara and the men of the 442nd. Star Wars is a story of many things––family, adventure, coming into your own… but it’s also about love. And getting to add to that aspect of the story in any given way, for people who enjoy reading it, to have fun conceptualizing and writing everything… it keeps bringing me back for more.

2. I had so much fun thinking up all the Darth Carus stuff!! It was prompted by a question in a review, asking what I thought Elara would be like as a Sith/what her name would be. So I started looking at all the other Sith names, and realized a lot of them were words that stood for descriptors of the Sith Lord. “Maul” for (the literal usage of) “maul,” “Tyrannus” for “tyrant” (derived, likely, from Latin tyrannia or tyrannos), “Vader” for “invader” (or “father”). So I decided I would use a Latin word for her Sith name, and decided I needed to think of what she would be like as a Sith. Tyrannical? Violent? Rampaging? And none of those seemed… right. It felt, to me, that if she were to become a Sith, it would be out of heartbreak. And it wouldn’t be a denial of love kind of heartbreak; it would be losing someone she truly loved (Anakin or Obi-Wan) forever. Their death, perhaps by a mistake that she made. So I went, ‘okay, the birth of her being a Sith is related to love.’ I searched up some Latin words and found “Carus” which means heart. And because Elara, Jedi or Sith, is so involved with her emotions and with love, with her heart… it just seemed to fit.

Now, the outfit––ohh, I had so much fun with the outfit. I’ve got a BFA in Theatrical Arts, so I’m big on costumes and costume details, so creating Elara’s Sith outfit was absolutely delightful. Again, I started with what I thought Darth Carus would be like. There’s a mournful aspect to her, so black as part of her color palette works, but I didn’t want her to be dressed in all black. I thought that, in the wake of her heartbreak, there would be a dangerous passion about her. An angry passion. So ‘anger’ and ‘passion’ are typically associated with burning colors like red, so I through red (and orange) into the mix. And I wanted them to be bright––Darth Carus is no longer hiding in the neutrals of Tatooine or the Jedi Order. She’s letting the galaxy know her pain. I did, however, want to stick with clothing articles that were more robe-like. It’s what Elara’s known her whole life. But instead of multiple layers, I stripped it down to singular, more form fitting articles. In a way, the fewer layers is displaying the vulnerability that turned her towards the Darkness. Red is the predominant color (the tunic) because it draws attention. You have to look at her, you have to see her pain. It’s almost like staring into a fire, or gaping at an open wound. And because all good Sith Lords need a dramatic cape, I thought I’d do a fun take on it and do one of the ones that attaches at the shoulders instead of drapes over them. Maximum drama for sweeping down staircases or jumping off of tall platforms. Now, like I said, I’m a sucker for small details… hence why I added the embroidery on the tunic collar. It’s floral. It denotes her love of life. Now, if this were all real life, real costume design in an actual movie… the embroidered flowers would be Gleannish Snow Blossoms. And, of course, amidst all the bright reds, vivid oranges, and swaths of black… against all this intensity… you have the delicate, cool softness of the real Snow Blossom pinned to the spot over her heart. The very same Snow Blossom that Obi-Wan gave her on Gleann. A gentle reminder of better days… of the reason she became the ways she is… of the man she loved so wholly and deeply that, in losing him… she’d much have rather killed her own heart instead. (Also, a friend of mine and I had a wonderful conversation discussing how much of a terrifying, badass power couple Sith!Elara and Sith!Obi-Wan would be. It’s delightful.)

3. So, if I’m writing a chapter that deals with a chunk of movie or episode, what I’ll do first is sit down and watch what I perceive I’ll be writing. I’ll take down notes on things that I’ll want to add in/describe. I’ve also got a whole document of ideas I’ve already written down, and a document of bullet-pointed ideas, so I’ll give that I skim/edit, too. I always have to pick what scenes to leave in or take out, decide if they can be summarized or should be left in. Sometimes this’ll happen the same day I start writing, but sometimes I take a day to really think things over, sleep on it, then start the next. Then I’ll start to write, and I’ll have the movie/episode open for reference. When I write canon dialogue, it’s a lot of: watch, listen, pause, transcribe; rewind, read subtitles, listen, pause, transcribe. I also usually have, like… five safari tabs open with different research pages open––one for the movie/episode, probably one for a character of some kind, a google image search of a costume or something, and another one that’s got, like, different kinds of starships or droids (because there are so, so many). A lot of the time I’ll just transcribe/describe a chunk of canon stuff, then go back and add in extra details, weave Elara into it, or change up the dialogue to fit. An example being Obi-Wan and Sugi’s conversation in the barn. I beefed that up a little bit, added in references, and used it to benefit the overall storyline.

With chapters that are more original content based, those take a little longer to plan. Even if I have an idea of what’s going to happen, it takes a bit of time to figure out how to order it all, how to get a proper lead in, how to make transitions. And I also contemplate whether or not what I want to write is really going to be beneficial to the story, or if it’s going to end up being meaningless filling. There are a lot of ideas that I have had or do have that would be fun to write, but don’t really… work into the story well enough (like, god, do I want a girls’ day chapter 😂). And it’s in writing these chapters in particular that I do a lot of my music listening. Star Wars soundtracks, the story playlists I’ve made… the right music can help me find the mood or setting of a scene, inspire a moment. Like, I cannot tell you how much of the bunker scene on Ryloth was inspired by Sebastian Böhm’s rendition of “Blue Monday.” Music plays a huge role in writing for me. I’ll have music playing when I’m driving or doing dishes or cooking, and I’ll start to formulate ideas while listening. There are times, too, when I feel stuck when writing that I’ll swap on over to YouTube and I’ll watch some Star Wars edits. There’s an amazing edit of “War Pigs” by Black Sabbath over battle sequences from the films, and it’s just… it feeds my soul when I get stuck writing battle sequences. I’ve got, like… a go-to list of edits I watch when I feel a little stuck, and they’re all phenomenal. And when all is said and done and I’ve finished the chapter, I usually take a break and sit on it for a bit. Then go back, read over it, do grammar edits, change things if I see fit too. Then it’s on to review replies and I get it uploaded and posted!!

#mary answers #Mary answers asks #balance asks #I’m alive! #And I’m writing again! #HUZZAH!