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#And I'm trying to figure out who's rustling around in front of him
candied-cae · 8 months
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Me, squinting at the tv a few minutes into 2x03 at Buttons in the background bc it looks like he's trying to do something with the spells Auntie gave him in the last episode:
WHAT ARE YOUR PLANS, YOU DEVIOUS LITTLE MAGIC MAN?!?!?!?!
+I just gotta say, I know everyone’s been saying stuff about about “Where’s Ed?” in the high def photos that dropped, but we already saw clips so I know he’ll be there somehow. BUT I'M CONCERNED ABOUT BUTTONS! WTF IS THAT CRAZY SEA WITCH UP TO?!?!?! Bc the only photo we got that he’s in, is him standing next to Stede and he hadn’t even changed out of the Red Flag’s uniform whereas everyone else seems to have gotten somewhere back to or closer to their original styles…
I haven't spotted him anywhere in the promo that dropped yesterday, I haven't spotted him anywhere in the teaser for 4&5 that showed after episode 3- But what we do see, the very first shot of that teaser, is of a seagull flying away from The Revenge into the night sky.
What if... he ACTUALLY transforms and goes back to The Red Flag to communicate with the Auntie or something???
I was originally on team "It's so silly and fun that they are playing with the idea that he's seriously a magic user. Haha, very funny guys." Bc shows often like to hint at things like magic or a divine power, but don't often actually canonize those things. But Buttons might legitimately be doing something insane... I cannot wait.
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Give Into The Temptation
Oscar Piastri x Fem!Norris!Reader
warnings: ‼️‼️⚠️⚠️SPOILERS FOR TWISTED HATE BY ANA HUANG ‼️‼️⚠️⚠️, cursing, SMUT
Thank you to @forevercaffeinated-lee for this idea! I hope it meets your expectations <3!
Slight enemies to lovers
Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!
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When I first met Oscar I thought he was cute and he is but my god was he so full of himself.  
Now don’t get me wrong, I love a man who’s confident and knows what he wants but Oscar was not that.
Oscar was cocky, full of himself and sometimes downright disrespectful. I usually let it slide because I didn’t see him often so I didn’t have to deal with it, emphasis on the word usually.
-
I’ve been on the road with Lando so far this whole 2024 season because he had asked me to tag along, he something about missing his twin sister or some bullshit like that, in reality everyone knew that I was here because he liked the way I made his meal preps and not the person that’s currently doing it now.
This is the week of the Monaco Grand Prix and Lando has been out all day with his trainer all day doing whatever the trainer made him do all the while I’m stuck at the condo alone.
I was chilling out on a pineapple floaty in the pool when I heard the front door open. I'd decided that I wanted to play a prank on Lando so I snuck out of the pool and quickly dried myself off before quietly sneaking into the condo. I'd heard rustling coming from the bathroom and that gave me the perfect chance to scare him. I waited against the wall for about 45 seconds before I heard the door open, I waited for a second until I saw a taller figure step out the bathroom and with a big leap I screamed 'Boo' at the man in front of me.
However, I didn't get as much joy from scaring Lando as I thought I would and that was only because I didn't scare Lando. I scared Oscar.
"Ah! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Oscar screamed as I still stood in front of him, placing his hand on his chest as if to slow down his heartbeat.
"What are you doing here?!" I screamed back in total shock and anger that he was here. I mean how did he even get the key? Only Lando and I had a key?
"I'm staying here this race weekend dipshit. You know this." His attitude evident, as always.
"Obviously not, seeing as I'm JUST NOW FINDING THIS OUT!" I shout. I'm so frustrated, I wanted to have a nice weekend to support my brother and hopefully only see Oscar when needed, but turns out I'm gonna be spending the WHOLE weekend with him.
"That's it, I'm going back out by the pool." I scoffed while I dragged my feet dramatically out to the backyard.
-
Back out by the pool, I was laying on one of the lawn chairs and I decided that I was going to try and finish the book I was currently reading 'Twisted Hate' by one of my favorite authors Ana Huang.
While I was reading, I was so deep in thought that I hadn't heard the patio door open and Oscar come out. At least not until I heard a big splash in the water and felt drops of it land on my legs.
"You muppet! I'm reading here!" I shouted as I took the towel I brought out to dry my not-so-wet legs. Oscar looked displeased with me as when I looked up I saw him rolling his eyes at me.
I continued reading in peace and quiet for about another 15 minutes before my timer went off indicating that I should go apply more sunscreen before I get too burned. I let out a annoyed groan because my book was just getting good so I quickly got up and went into the air conditioned condo to the living room to grab the spray on sunscreen, applying it before walking back outside.
Opening the back door, I was quickly met with a sight of Oscar with a towel around his waist and my book in his hand.
"Oscar, put my book down now!" my face just as red as a tomato at the thought of Oscar reading the previous page of the two characters fucking. Part of me didn't want him to know what I read on my free time but part of me wanted him to have read it so that he learns not to pick up and read random books.
"Twisted Hate? I think I've heard of this book." if my face was red before, it must've been a shade of hell right now. How did he know about this book? Maybe someone said it was a good series? Did he know about the pure sex written in it? So many questions flooded my head but before I could question what he meant by what he said he continued talking
(THIS NEXT PART CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE BOOK SO PLEASE KEEP SCROLLING UNTIL YOU SEE THE BOLD WORDS! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!)
"Yeah, Jules ends up telling Josh that she was the one that took the painting. Josh was mad at her at first but then they had make-up sex. Turns out he didn't forgive her and 'broke up' with her mid orgasm and kicked her out." My face fell in shock. There's no way this bitch just fucking spoiled this book for me. No, he's making shit up. There's no way he'd know what was going on in the book, someone could've told him about the 'break in'. Oscar loves to get under my skin and this would be a good way he could do it.
A scoff left my lips as I crossed my arms over my chest.
"Yeah fucking right. That's a good one Piastri, and to think I almost believed you. Wow, this is a new low for you." I laughed as I snatched my book from his grasp and gathered my stuff. I was going to finish my book in the comfort of my well air conditioned room until my brother comes back and we go out to eat.
(OKAY NO SPOILERS AFTER THIS PART)
-
It had been about 30 minutes since my last interaction with Oscar and I was sitting against the headboard of the bed under the covers reading. I was having a good time in the quiet of the room while reading until I got to a part that eerily started to sound like what Oscar told me was going to happen between Jules and Josh.
I kept reading because I didn't want to believe that Piastri was THAT disrespectful to actually spoil my book for me. Sure enough that Aussie dipshit did in fact spoil my book for me. With an angry grunt I peeled myself away from the book and left my room. I was going to find Oscar and kill him.
I searched the house with so much anger in me I felt like I was going to explode. I finally spotted Oscar still out by the pool except this time instead of being in the water, he was sun bathing. Lord knows he needs it because of how pale he was.
Swinging the patio door open I started yelling " OSCAR JACK PIASTRI!" The volume of my voice and the slam of the door startled Oscar and he quickly locked his phone before chucking it on the lawn chair next to his. "YOU ARE SUCH A FUCKING BASTARD!" A slight smirk plastered on his face as he saw how mad I was.
"Finally get to the part I spoiled for you?" he looked so cocky right now and all I wanted to do was to punch him right in his sexy face. No, stop Y/N don't think like that.
"You're a cunt Oscar. I want to never see you again!" I stomped my foot. I looked like an angry toddler when they wouldn't get their way.
"Oh that's cute. We're rooming in the same house this weekend and in case you forgot, your brother and I are on the same team so that's not happening." I watched as a small laugh left his incredibly sexy and slightly plump lips.
As much as I wanted to be mad at Oscar I couldn't help but want to swoon for him right now. He'd gotten out of the pool not that long ago because his body wasn't wet anymore but his swim trunks and hair were still damp. That nasty smirk still plastered on his sexy face, his damp curls laying in every direction, his perfectly toned chest on display, the damp swimming trunks sticking to his hard cock. Wait, is he hard? Was he watching porn before I came out??
"As much as I'm flattered that you're checking me out, my eyes are up here princess." Oscar called as he snapped his fingers at me before pointing to his eyes when I finally looked up.
Did I just get caught checking out the man I hated the most while I'm trying to be angry and yell at him?
"As if. I- I would never check you out. You- You're the last guy I would want to find attractive." I swallowed the lump in my throat as I watched Oscar slowly start to walk in my direction stopping right in front of me. He was so close I could feel his breath on my face, none of us moved and I don't think either of us wanted to. Oscar raised his hands to rest on both sides of my face, leaning in but stopping right before our lips met.
"Really? So why aren't you backing away from my touch?" He was so close to me and all I wanted to do was have the most rough and dirty sex with him right now. "You hate me right? You know they say there's a blurred line between Love and Hate."
"I" need you "I would never love you" I'm trying so hard not to give into the temptation of falling for Oscar but it's so hard. Oscar might be harder but I don't want to be the first to give in. I left heavy calloused hand on my waist and gave it a small squeeze which caused a pathetic small moan to escape my lips.
"That moan that left your mouth just now says otherwise," Oscar and I made eye contact just before he turned his head to whisper in my ear "just say the word and I'll fuck you 7 ways to Sunday before your brother gets back" His hand slowly sliding down my front before they got to my bathing suit bottoms, stopping right above the elastic.
A whimper left my lips before I could stop it. "Is this fine?" Oscar said as he grabbed my chin to look up and face him, a small nod of approval was what I gave him but that wasn't enough "No princess, I need words. Is this okay with you?" Even when we're so deep in this intimate moment he's getting on my nerves.
"Yes," I said breathlessly as I placed my hand on his and guided him underneath the fabric of my bikini bottoms "I need this, I need you so fucking bad." I whispered as I had leaned into the crook of him neck to leave small and delicate kisses.
A heard a groan leave Oscar's lips as I started to suck the skin of his neck to litter his gorgeous skin with hickies.
"Mmmm, fuck. I need you right now." Oscar moaned right before he smashed his lips to mine. The kiss didn't last too long before Oscar picked me up and threw me over his shoulder and started to make his way to my room and slamming the door once we were in. Oscar placed a hard and firm slap to my ass before tossing me on the bed.
"You're so sexy, did you know that?" Oscar started talking while slowly crawling towards me leaving kisses in his wake, started by my feet "I've always dreamed of fucking you since I met you" left a kiss just below my knee "I've jerked off to the thought of me fucking you in my drivers room, making you scream my name so loud they can hear you in the grandstands" kissed my clothed pussy, causing me to jerk my body up "and the thought of filling you so full you're carrying child." kissed my stomach "I've thought about taking you at so many events." kissed my breasts "I thought about us getting caught while I'm fucking your mouth." kissed the under side of my jaw before looking in my eyes "I thought about us getting married and just fucking like rabbits everywhere I can take you" He kissed my lips before biting my bottom lip
"Do it." I said breathless as Oscar leaned down to kiss my cleavage, the second those words left my mouth I felt him freeze.
"Which part?" He searched my face for an answer
"All of it." In 0.2 seconds flat his lips were on mine in a hungry kiss before he licked my bottom lip for entrance which I happily granted him access to. Our tongues fought for dominance but his ultimately won, as we made out I felt an ache in my core that I needed to get rid of. I bucked my hips up to rub against his hard cock, it didn't last long though as one of Oscar's hands pressed firmly on my low stomach pressing my lower half into the mattress.
"Impatient are we?" A small moan left my lips "Don't worry baby, I'm gonna take good care of you" Oscar took the hand that he had pressed against my stomach and moved it to take off his swim trunks before moving that same hand to undo the knots on the strings on the sides of my bathing suit bottoms. Undoing two double knotted knots with one hand was supposed to be hard but Oscar made it seem easy, and hot. Super super hot. Oscar peeled the bottoms off of me and chucked it to God knows where in the room.
Oscar grabbed his cock and fisted it a few times before lining his tip to my entrance before looking in my eyes once again asking for permission
"Oscar, please fuck me. I can't wait anymore" I whimpered. At this point I don't care how pathetic I sounded, I had a hot man in front of me about to fuck me and I needed him.
That was all the confirmation he needed before he slid his cock so deep in my cunt I felt like I could feel him in my throat. He was big and thick, not too big but my god was he thick. My walls stretched in a delicious pain as I adjusted to his size. A quick tap to Oscar's bicep told him all he needed to know before he pulled out and slowly slid back in. He kept going at a slower pace before I spoke up.
"Oscar," I moaned
"Yeah baby, what do you need?" He leaned in to kiss my collarbone
"I need you to fuck me faster" without a second thought Oscar pulled out and slammed into my pussy, easing the aching throb thats been there for a minute.
My walls stretched with each hard and rough thrust of his cock and I enjoyed every minute of it. Oscar had one hand on my hip and used it to guide my hips up to meet his every thrust. Oscar kept fucking me raw and rough for about another 2 minutes before he abruptly pulled out.
A disappointed groan left my lips at the feeling of being empty but that didn't last long because Oscar ended up flipping me around and forcing me on all fours. I turned half my body to face him and I watched he stood on his knees and aligned himself with my entrance again and grabbed my hips and thrusted his cock in me.
A loud moan left my lips as I felt so full of him again. Oscar set a blistering pace as he rocked his hips in and out of my dripping pussy. Oscar slowly withdrew his cock from my pussy before slowly pushing his girthy cock back in making sure he'd bottom out. Even though Oscar was bottomed out he kept pushing himself deeper in me which caused me to reach behind me to attempt to grab ahold of his thighs in hopes to pull him closer to me to make him go impossibly deeper in my cunt.
Oscar finally started his thrusts up again and was fucking me so hard I'm pretty sure the bed was moving. Each thrust sent my body jerking forward and I felt like I was on fire. I could feel a familiar tightness in my tummy as Oscar keeps his merciless pace going.
"Gonna cum for me sweet girl?" Oscar's hand brushed up my back and rested on my shoulder.
"Mmhmm" was all I could muster, Oscar was fucking me so good I couldn't form coherent sentences. I felt Oscar pull out of me before quickly flipping me untilI I was on my back and he thrusted right back into be with so much force.
"I wanna see your pretty face when I make you cum. M'gonna ruin you for any other man." I can't focus, I'm so close to cumming and I need this release.
"I don't want any other man" I murmured "Oscar, I'm so close. Choke me"
I didn't have to ask twice and the second his calloused hand gripped the flesh of my throat and gave it a gentle and slight squeeze my walls clenched around his cock and my body shook as my orgasm washed over me. Oscar kept fucking me through my high as he chased his own orgasm. I could tell Oscar was close just by the way his hips stuttered against me. I was going to tell Oscar to pull out and to cum on my stomach but before I could say anything he spoke up
"Can I please fuck your mouth and cum in it? Please I need to cum so bad" Oscar whimpered
"Please" was all I said before I watched him pull out and quickly made his way up to my face before he shoved his cock in my mouth and started to roughly fuck it.
He didn't last that long and after a few thrust he shoved his cock to the back of my throat and used my used his hand he had placed behind head to shove my face closer to his body until my nose was touching his skin as he spilled his cum down my throat.
Oscar pulled out of my mouth and watched me as I swallowed all his cum. He placed a kiss to my lips before having to pull away due to my phone ringing.
I picked up my phone and looked at the caller ID "Oh shit, it's Lando" I pressed the answer icon and placing it on speaker "This better be good, I'm reading" I said into the phone
"I'm gonna be back at the condo in 20 so get ready for dinner and while you're at it wake up Oscar, I called him 4 times but he isn't answering. He's a heavy sleeper." I had to refrain a chuckle from leaving my lips
"Okay, I'm gonna wake him and then take a shower. Bye, I love you too." I hung up before turning back to Oscar
"Yeah, I forgot I threw my phone on the other lawn chair." he said as he rubbed the back of his neck "And no I wasn't watching porn, I was watching videos of you being interviewed at movie premieres. I can't help it, you're just so hot." Oscar mumbled as he leaned in to kiss my lips again.
"We have to get dressed Oscar" I mumbled against his lips as I pulled away "I smell like sex and I want to wash my hair so I gotta go now." I got up from my bed and was about to walk towards my bathroom before I felt a firm slap on my ass causing me to jerk forward with a yelp
"I'm gonna fuck you so good when we get back, I hope you know that"
-
I MISSED YOU GUYS (I just posted two days ago) I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS!!
Taglist:
@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti@dhanihamidi @Ggasly.p @tellybearryyyy
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krenenbaker · 7 months
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Trick or Treat~!
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Pairing: Che'nya x Floyd (could be read platonically or romantically)
Summary: It's finally Halloween night, but Floyd is in a bit of a slump. However, the arrival of a curious companion may just make the Halloween party a bit more interesting for him.
Notes: This is my first attempt at something following a prompt - specifically, "Trick or Treat" for the 2023 TWST Rarepair Halloween event. I'm trying to get more comfortable/practiced with writing prose (which is why this wasn't posted on the 30th... oops), and only vaguely ended up following the prompt. I'm fairly happy with how this little piece turned out, though!
Tags: @dove-da-birb, @azulashengrottospiano, @inkybloom-luv, @eynnwwyjth, @officialdaydreamer00 (please let me know if you'd like to be included or excluded from future writing of mine, or only want to be included in specific types of creations)
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Floyd wanted to take a break. 
It was Halloween, and all he had done the entire week was work, work, work. Getting costumes ready, decorating, helping with their dorm's presentation, plus cooking and serving at the Lounge, all on top of normal classes? 
Sure, it was fun, especially getting to show off Octavinelle's cool setup, and 'taking care of' those misbehaving visitors. But now? Everything felt draining and boring, and Floyd simply wanted to leave, which sucked because the actual Halloween party had just started!  
Maybe he should just ditch and go back to his dorm; being in a funk when everyone else is having fun around you is not enjoyable.  He slumped down on a bench and unwrapped a sweet he had picked up earlier, before wrapping it up again. Ugh, not even in the mood for that candy he wanted only a few minutes ago. 
As he shoved the sweet back into his pocket and was about to get up from the bench to leave, Floyd heard a rustle behind him. Someone was quietly humming, and… laughing? The sound gradually moved to his side, towards the empty side of the bench.  
“Trick or treat~”
Floyd turned to face the voice. "Listen, man, I'm not in the mood to—” he froze, staring at the figure beside him. “Hang on a second, where's your body!?"
A toothy smile came to the face of the head that currently floated beside Floyd. "Oh, it's here.... or maybe it's there." A pair of hands materialized on either side of this boy's head, followed by the rest of his body. 
“I'm just kidding. Mind if I take a seat? I’d like to rest up before I keep purrowling around and startling people.”
Floyd blinked, then raised an eyebrow. “Uh, go for it.” 
This guy was... weird, and it was hard to tell if he'd be annoying, or interesting. "You don't go here, do ya? At least, I’ve never seen you before. And you’re no ghost, either.”
The cat-like boy shook his head, his jewellery jingling softly. "I'm just passing through for the festivities and collecting treats. Scaring some people, too. That’s loads of fun. And it's always nice to see my friends let loose." 
Floyd had a vague memory surface. "Ohh... you must be that RSA boy who's friends with Sea Turtle and Goldfishie." 
"'Sea Turtle' and 'Goldfishie', hey? Those are good names for my green and red friends. Cats are known for liking fish." He leaned forward, his grin growing. “Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Floyd nodded, “Floyd Leech. It's nice to meet you, too.” He looked curiously at the boy beside him, taking in his shaggy hair, piercings, and impish smile.
"You're not what I expected.” Floyd smiled, "But you seem fun, Catfish. I didn't think Goldfishie would get along with someone so... interesting."
Che'nya's eyes lit up slightly. "Catfish? Heh heh heh, most people call me Che'nya, but I guess that works. And I’ve heard some… interesting stories about you, too."
He stretched his legs out in front of him, leaning back with his arms behind his head as he sighed. "But yeah, I don't think Riddle could shake me if he tried." 
"I'm almost jealous." Floyd tipped his head slightly. "Most of the time, Goldfishie likes to swim away before I can play with him."
Che'nya laughed, "Well, if you're wondering, he 'swam off' that way." He pointed off to the side. “Just don’t be rough with him. I don’t like people mistreating my friends.”
Floyd looked off into the crowd where he had pointed, and let out a small laugh. “Alright, good to know. Maybe I’ll find him later, if I feel like it”, he smiled and sat back. “And Goldfishie’s stronger than he looks, but I guess you’d know that.”
Che’nya nodded, then leaned closer with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You know, I bet we could do something that would really surprise him.” 
Floyd turned slightly towards Che’nya, and flashed a smile. “Yeah, we probably could. I think we should talk more in the future, Catfish. You seem pretty fun.” 
Che’nya grinned, “You seem pretty fun, too.”
"Well,” he stretched his arms above his head. “I think I’m going to go and find some more treats… and play some more tricks tonight. I'll catch you around, Floyd." 
With a haunting giggle echoing in his ears, Floyd watched as the boy beside him faded into nothingness, just the same way he had arrived. 
What a weird guy.
Floyd unwrapped the candy he had pocketed earlier, then popped it into his mouth. Maybe this party was worth staying at after all.
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pedroshotwifey · 3 months
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One Condition
This is actually a requested fic from the lovely @survivingandenduring! You can view the request here if you'd like!
Pairing: Marcus Pike x fem!reader x Ezra (Prospect)
Word count: 4.9k
Tags/warnings: unprotected piv sex, sex pollen trope, dubcon, unprotected anal sex, double penetration, oral sex, cum eating, so much cum like its kinda scary, Ezra being a nasty little freak, anal fingering, pain kink, big fat juicy plot twist, this is absolutely nasty shit, stuff I'm probably forgetting, I'm actually not sorry at all for this
Summary: You and your partner, Marcus Pike, get stranded on an inhabited planet and run into problem after problem. You find yourselves in a compromising position that requires help from a strange man, who comes to you with one condition.
A/N: Uhhh. don't look at me 🫣
*****
“Um, Marcus?” 
You look at your partner, who has the same worried expression on his face as you. 
“Yup.” 
It’s not a question. You’re both thinking the same thing; you’re in the wrong place. 
It looks similar to the planet you were supposed to be landing on, but most of the scenery here is a lush green instead of the blue hues you’d been expecting. It’d looked the exact same from above the atmosphere, but there is a clear difference now that you’re on the surface. 
Marcus mutters a curse under his breath but begins the landing sequence anyway. That’s probably for the best; that way the two of you can figure out where you really were, and then where you actually need to be going. 
Dust comes up around your shuttle as you touch ground, the greenery around you rustling a bit as the jets power down. You get up from your seat when you feel the craft settle enough for the floor to be stable. 
Marcus follows, shutting everything down and then unbuckling himself from the pilot’s chair. You’re already on the other side of the small contraption, looking through the maps you have stored in the tiny compartment of the far wall. He comes up next to you and pulls up the planet encyclopedias, trying to find a description that matches the world you’ve landed in. 
You spend the next few minutes flipping through various books and maps until Marcus comes across a planet that matches. He hands the book over and points at the section. 
“Here,” he points. “It looks like we're on a sister planet to the one we’re supposed to be on.” 
You hum in agreement, reading the small passage provided next to the picture.
“Alright, well, let’s get her powered back up.” 
Your partner sighs, running a hand over his face. You furrow your brows. His face has paled a bit and he seems a bit reluctant to follow your request. 
“Is there a problem?” 
“Yeah, actually. We’re out of fuel,” he admits, trying and failing miserably to maintain eye contact. 
You gape at him. 
“Marcus! You were supposed to fill her up before we fucking left! It says here that there’s no civilization!” 
He nods along as you scold him, knowing it’s well deserved. 
“Yeah, I know. I forgot until we were halfway here, but I knew it would take just enough to get us on planet, and we could get more from there. It’s not like I knew that we would be landing on the wrong planet” He spews it out, not defensive exactly, but regretful. 
You groan and walk back to the front of the ship, checking the fuel gauge. 
“We’re running on fumes right now, I don’t know if it’s going to be enough to get us to the neighboring planet.” 
You look at him, trying to keep your anger from showing up because you know that it was genuinely an accident, and Marcus isn’t usually one to mess up like this. But of course when he does, you get stranded on an unknown planet.  
Rubbing your eyes, you walk in a circle around the floor, trying to think of a plan. You can feel Marcus’s guilty eyes following you until you come to a stop. 
“Okay,” you start. “The book said that this planet is typically only used for mining aurelac, right?” 
Marcus nods slowly, obviously confused as to where you’re going with this. 
“Well then there should be at least a few miners on planet in that case, right?” 
He nods again, furrowing his brows in thought. 
“So we should go out and try to find someone to borrow some fuel from?” he asks. 
“Yes. Either that or see if there’s someone who can hitch us a ride.” 
He sighs and puts his hands on his hips, his gaze downcast to the floor as he thinks through the options.
“Yeah, seems like our best bet,” he agrees after a minute. 
Within a few minutes, you both pack small bags and suit up to withstand the harsh environment of the planet. According to the book, the air is extremely thin and can sometimes hold toxic chemicals depending on other factors. You follow Marcus out of the craft and watch as he makes sure everything’s sealed correctly, before you both start walking into the woods. 
“Do you know where you’re going?” you ask after you’ve been walking for a while.” 
Marcus looks at you, his expression still holding hints of guilt. 
“Not exactly. I think most of the mines are located in the forest though, so we’ll just have to keep walking and hope we come across—” 
“Shit, Marcus!” 
You yell for him as he stumbles across a root and tumbles down into a pit. It’s not super deep, but just enough so that he could have seriously hurt himself with that fall. You carefully slide down the side of it to join him. 
“Are you okay?”
He looks up at you from where he’s planted on his back and groans a bit. He opens his mouth to reply and that’s when you see that his mask is on the ground next to him, crushed into several pieces. 
“Shit,” he croaks, already feeling the effects of the thin air. 
You crouch down beside him, feeling him up for any injuries. 
“Does anything hurt?” 
“Just my head. It’s fucking pounding.” 
You sigh. “Probably from lack of airflow.” 
“C’mon,” you grunt, threading your arms under his. “Let’s get you back and hope that you don’t die.” 
He glares at you but allows you to help him into a sitting position.
“Well, isn’t this unfortunate? Two little birds trapped in a cage.” 
You both jolt at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. You peer up to the top of the pit and find a man standing near the ledge, a blaster aimed directly at your head. He wears a shabby, brown suit with a bulbous helmet that would be almost funny looking if not for the imminent threat he poses. You slowly raise your hands and start to stand back up, a rush of fear creeping up your spine. 
“We’re not armed,” you start. “My friend’s mask just broke; we need help.” You try not to sound too panicked as you explain your situation to the stranger, praying to whoever may be listening that he’s not planning to shoot both of you.
“Don’t worry gem, I don’t want to kill you. I simply would like to assure myself that neither of you had plans of my own execution.” 
You furrow your brows at his choice of wording, his strange drawl only adding to your confusion. 
“I, uh. No.” What else can you really say to that?
You glance down at Marcus and see the same befuddled expression on his face. 
“I will warn you that your…friend”—he cocks a brow at you as he says it—”has chosen a rather unfortunate time to lose his filtration system. Assuming, of course,  you haven’t already discovered the effects of the tainted oxygen.” 
You shake your head as your mouth goes dry. 
“Is—is he going to be okay?” 
The stranger pauses for a moment as if in thought. He cocks his head and then looks back at you. 
“He should be as long as he receives the assistance he should require.” 
“What do you mean by that?” This comes from Marcus. 
The stranger frowns and lowers his gun, which he seems to have just remembered he was still holding up. 
“Are you not familiar with this planet’s cycles?” 
You both shake your heads.
The man sighs and kneels on the ledge extending a hand. You stare at it, neither of you making a move toward him. 
“Do you want to stay in this pit? I think it would be rather unsanitary to do so under your current circumstance.” 
You flash another glance at Marcus, who nods slightly toward you, encouraging you to take the other man’s hand. You step forward and place your palm in his, allowing him to pull you up, and then you kneel to help him hoist Marcus up as well. 
“I’m Ezra,” the man says once the three of you are standing. You introduce the two of you as well, figuring at this point that the stranger has to be at least mostly harmless. 
“Alright, well tell me, little bird; are you and Marcus of the romantic type?” 
You just stare at him, unsure of how to answer that, nor of why he would feel the need to ask in the first place. You can feel Marcus’s eyes on you as your cheeks begin to burn. 
“I–uh…” 
You let your eyes meet your partner’s, a silent conversation transpiring. You’ve engaged in some less than appropriate activities throughout your travels, but it’s always been strictly for stress release or simply a product of boredom. The last few months, it’s been more of an unspoken thing. 
The two of you care for each other and behave as most couples would, but you’ve never actually given each other the labels. You definitely never thought that the deciding conversation would be in the presence of a strange man who seems to be about to deliver some bad news. You’re about to answer when Marcus gives you a short nod, lifting the burden off of your shoulders. 
“Yeah, we are.” 
The man nods, though he’s clearly amused. You’re sure he can see what just happened and must have used context clues to figure the rest out out. 
“That’s fortunate for you. What’s circulating in the air currently is what could be described as an aphrodisiac. I’m sure you’re familiar with such?” 
You and Marcus exchange yet another glance. 
“Yes, we’ve heard of them,” you say. 
“Do you have a craft nearby?” Ezra asks, peering behind you as if he could spot one he missed before. 
You hesitate before answering. Even if he’s seemed to be helpful so far, can you really be sure it isn’t a trap? 
“We have a shuttle,” you decide on just to be on the safe side. “We’re out of fuel though. That’s why we're out here in the first place,” you add just in case the man has some extra laying around for some miraculous reason.
Just then, you near a heavy thud and a groan. You spin on your heel to find Marcus keeled over, his hands over his groin and his exposed skin covered in a layer of sweat more intense than what’s normal for this climate. You’re on your knees beside him within a second, your hands running over him until he flinches away as if you’d burned him. 
“Marcus! What’s happening?” You aim your question at Ezra, who’s still standing above the two of you with an almost pitying expression. 
“The effects are getting to him, little dove. I’m afraid you’re going to need to help him in a timely manner.” 
You think for a moment, knowing getting your partner all the way back to your shuttle is going to be a difficult task in the state that he’s in. 
“I have a camp not too far from our current location, I’m willing to offer up the space on one condition. And before you protest, we both know it’s not safe to engage in life saving activities out here in the open.” 
You stiffen at this. Of course there’s a catch; it’s not common to receive help from a random stranger without them expecting anything in return. You glance down to make sure his gun is still in its holster before narrowing your eyes at his face, not liking the way his smile has turned a bit wolfish. 
“What do you want? We don’t have any coin.” 
“Oh, no, gem. I don’t want your profits. I simply desire to join you and your handsome partner. It’s been a long time since I had something other than my own fist to keep me company.” 
“What?” you bark, slightly humiliated that he would suggest something like that, regardless of how handsome he may be. “No, I’m sleeping with a stranger in exchange for shelter!” 
“Now don’t get feisty, dove. I didn’t say it had to be you,” he says, watching Marcus with a newfound hunger. “Though it would probably be fortunate for your friend here that it was, assuming he is of the hetero kind.” 
“Don’t,” Marcus croaks, looking up at you the best he’s able to. 
You’re torn, knowing that Marcus needs help quick, but not wanting to give either of you up to this man. When it comes down to it though, you’re always going to choose what’s best for your partner. You look up at the man with disdain, knowing that you’re not going to have much of a choice here. 
“Fine. But not him.” 
Ezra’s smile broadens. 
“Very well, gem. Right this way.” 
He turns around and waits for you to get a near-delirious Marcus about halfway up so he’s propped by one of your shoulders. Noticing your struggle, Ezra comes to his other side and mirrors your position, one hand supporting around his waist. 
As you walk, Marcus’s temperature keeps rising and his groans get worse. Fortunately, the man wasn’t lying when he said he had a camp nearby; you only have to walk for about a minute before coming across it. 
He opens up the flap as you get closer, taking the zipper all the way down and helping you ease Marcus in. As you lay him down, you can see the bulge in his flight suit; almost twice what is normal. You hear Ezra zip the opening back up and then step in behind you. 
“F-fuck, I’m sorry, I can’t–” 
Marcus cuts himself off as he shakily pulls down the zipper on his suit, revealing his undershirt and boxers. His hand goes down the latter not a second later, a pornographic moan coming from him as his hand makes contact with his engorged cock. He starts stroking himself under the fabric, panting heavily, and it makes your mouth go dry despite the circumstances. 
“Shit, I-it’s not enough,” he grits out, pumping furiously. There are tears in his eyes as he looks at you, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. 
“Better help him quick, little bird,” Ezra quips from behind you, already removing his attire as well. You comply, though for which man you’re not sure. 
You strip quickly, the three of you tearing your own clothes off at the same time, each of you stark naked at the end. You feel so exposed between the two of them, especially with Ezra, who doesn’t help at all by giving a lewd whistle at the sight of your bare body. 
You give him a look so nasty that you’re surprised he doesn’t drop dead. He raises his hands in defense. 
“Woah, little bird, I meant it only as a praise.” 
You ignore him and turn to Marcus, who’s just now shoving his boxers off. You gasp when his dick springs up, heavy, red, throbbing, and leaking an obscene amount of precum. It’s swollen to a point that looks almost painful. 
You swallow your nerves and try your best to ignore Ezra as you instruct Marcus to lay down on the cot. He tugs you with him, feral to get to you at this point. You fall over him and he immediately starts sucking and licking all the skin he can get to, his hips thrusting up into nothing. 
You see Ezra move out of the corner of your eye, taking a seat in the single chair inside the small tent. You lift your head as much as you can to make sure he’s not going to try anything. 
“Carry on, gem. I’m a patient man; I can wait my turn.” 
If you’re being honest, he looks a little too smug.
Suddenly Marcus is flipping you over, shoving you down to the bed on your back, whispering something you can’t quite catch. He doesn’t wait another second before you feel his cock at your underprepared cunt, and your eyes barely have a chance to go wide before he’s forcing himself into you, groaning wildly as he tugs you down onto him. 
It’s only then that you realize he had been whispering “sorry”. 
You scream and your hands come up to reflexively try to get him off. There are tears as he keeps shoving himself in, stretching you to your limit. Through your blurry vision, you can see tears in his as well, more of shame than of pleasure by his sympathetic expression. 
“I’m sorry,” he says again.
“N-no,” you squeak even as your hands claw at his back from the discomfort. “It’s okay. Don’t stop. Even if I beg you to.”
You close your eyes and try not to focus on the uncomfortable feeling between your legs as Marcus begins to unrelentingly slam his hip into yours. You hear a sound coming from beside you, and turn to see Ezra pumping himself through your blurry vision. It’s a sight that really shouldn't turn you on as much as it does.
You moan despite yourself as the pain coming from your sore cunt turns into pleasure. You’re getting wetter and wetter as the seconds tick by, the glide of your partner’s cock becoming easier and more toe-curling. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he starts to punch that spot deep inside you. You’re getting hot fast, sweat building up in every crease and crevice as your pussy seems to get more hungry for what Marcus is feeding it. 
Each thrust sends you up the bed, but Marcus holds onto you so that you don’t go too far. He’s grunting like a feral animal, his body maneuvering every which way until he finds the position that provides him with the most momentum.  
“Ohh that feels so fucking good, baby,” he hisses through his teeth. “Gods, you always take me so f-fucking well.”
You’ve never heard him talk like this before—with this level of vulgarity. You whimper, making eye contact with Ezra as Marcus nails something even more delicious within you. His gaze is heavy and on your face rather than on your body, which surprises you as much as it flatters you. 
“Does she suck cock just as well?” Ezra’s deepened voice comes from the chair, his eyes still on you as he asks the question. 
Marcus looks down at you, albeit with heavy lids, for your consent. You nod, already fucked out beyond thinking clearly. 
“Better,” comes Marcus’s reply, his stare just as heavy as Ezra’s. “Why don’t you come see for yourself?” 
You moan at the thought of being taken from both ends, one of the domineering men on each side. This is going much better than anticipated, both your mind and body opening to the stranger despite your earlier protest. 
Ezra doesn’t have to be asked twice, already getting up to hover his thick cock over your face, slapping it gently against your lips. The cot is the perfect height for him to stick it into your mouth, though he waits. 
“You want this, gem?” 
You almost find it funny that he’s asking, considering he didn’t give you much of a choice earlier. You nod anyway, because you honestly do, your gaze is trained on it as your mouth waters. He threads one hand through your hair, pulling you into the right position, and then uses his tip to part your lips. 
He moans as he sinks in, his eyes fluttering shut as you immediately wrap your tongue around him. You find yourself groaning at his salty taste, savoring the weight of him as you start to pull him in. Your cunt throbs as he and Marcus both moan out at the same time, Marcus doubling over while Ezra bottoms out. 
Marcus brings one hand to your clit and begins rubbing up and down at a furious pace that would have made you scream if not for the other man’s cock in the way. Tears leak from your eyes as Ezra begins to pump in and out of you, his hips thrusting as he uses the hand in your hair to hold you where he wants. 
“Oh you feel devine, little gem,” he moans, his eyes still closed and his lips parted as he picks up the pace. You can feel him hitting deep inside your throat, making you resist the urge to choke. It’s overwhelming but in the best way. 
“Oh, fuck!” Marcus nearly shouts the curse as his hips stutter. “Come with me baby, come on,” he urges, moving his hand quicker. 
Your back arches up at the feeling, though you’re still pinned by both men. Suddenly, everything flashes white, your hearing going dull as your entire body convulses with the power of your orgasm. You have just enough brain capacity to think that this has got to be the highest level of pleasure attainable. 
It goes on forever, your pussy pulsing as you sob and moan around Ezra’s cock. You faintly hear Marcus’s own moans and feel his dick twitch and throb within you, coating your walls in his creamy white spend.
You don’t even realize you had closed your eyes until you open them again upon feeling your own drool dribbling down your cheeks to mix with your tears. Ezra coos down at you, wiping away the saliva though he doesn’t dare slow his pace. 
“M-messy little bird,” he laughs.
You glance back down at Marcus the best you can just to realize that he’s still hard as a fucking rock. He’s still riding out his own high, rocking slowly to prolong it as much as possible. His eyes flick back up to yours after a moment, and then to Ezra’s who watches him intently as he continues to defile your throat. 
The gurgling sounds coming from you should be downright disgusting, but they only add to the eroticness of what the three of you are doing right now. The tent seems to have filled with the thick scent and humidity of sex, making your head even more foggy than provided by your orgasm. 
Ezra’s not far after the two of you, grunting heavily and pulling on your hair to a painful level. He pulls out and strokes himself over your face, letting his cum splatter across your features right after you close your eyes. His thumb comes to your lips, making you open your mouth as he moans aloud. 
Some of his seed falls on your tongue, and you swallow it down as Ezra finishes the last few spurts. You open your eyes when you’re sure he’s done, panting and gasping despite your sore throat. 
It’s at the same time that the two men pull away from you, and you’re extremely confused until you see that they’re maintaining eye contact, seeming to have had a silent conversation while you’d been distracted. 
Suddenly, you’re being lifted by the both of them, your body being rearranged to their preference. You’re so fucking tired, but you do your best to comply with their actions. You’re being lifted onto Ezra’s lap when you finally understand their plan. 
His cock is only half-hard after his orgasm, but he begins rutting himself against you regardless as Marcus disappears from your line of sight. You half-collapse on Ezra, moaning as your clit gets stimulated thanks to his thrusts. 
“Second drawer, pretty boy,” he pants. You hear shuffling and then Marcus returning behind you before you get the chance to ask what he was doing. There’s a pop from behind you, and then a cold substance at your ass. 
You yelp at the unexpected feeling, only to be shushed by Ezra. 
“Hush now, gem. I’ve heard you have experience in this area.” 
He smirks at you as your cheeks heat. 
You moan suddenly as Marcus slips a finger past your tight ring of muscle, pumping a good few times before adding a second. He leans close and whispers praise into your ear, telling you how good you’re being for them, how well you’re taking it all. 
He works you up to three fingers before he pulls his hand from you and helps lift you up, propping you up enough for Ezra to notch his tip at your thoroughly soaked cunt. You help the slow descent down his shaft, your lips parting and eyes pinching shut at the sensation. 
Ezra chokes on a groan, squeezing both of your ass cheeks as you bottom out. 
“Fuck, little birdy, your heavenly cunt should be reserved for those of immortal status.” 
You don’t even have the energy to cringe at his wording, instead savoring the way he fills you so nicely, not as long as Marcus, but a good bit thicker. The coarse hairs above his cock rub against your oversensitive clit nicely, making you want to rut against him. Just then, you feel Marcus settle in behind you again, dragging you partially onto his lap so you’re over his cock. 
“Ready, sweetheart?” He asks, clearly having regained some of his gentlemanly status after quelling his lust a bit. You whimper and nod at him, and he starts to push inside of you. 
“Oh, Gods,” you moan, wrapping your arms around Ezra’s back and digging your nails in for stability. He hisses and increases his grip on your ass, keeping you spread for Marcus as his hips come flush against you. 
You’re already so full it’s dizzying, so when the two men start to move, you think you may come on the spot. Ezra goes first, pulling out a bit and then sinking back in, which is when Marcus makes his move, repeating the other man’s actions. Your knees are planted on the cot, giving you the opportunity to move with them. 
The three of you are panting, moaning messes, hot breaths fanning across each other’s skin as you nuzzle together. The pace starts out slow, but quickly picks up, increasing your combined noises. Both of the men start to grab at you, moving their hands and groping anything and everything they’re able to. 
You can feel their cocks rubbing against your middle wall, creating an intoxicating feeling that you know you’ll miss when this is over. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, being so full you can feel them in your stomach. 
Small whimpers begin to spill from your mouth, but are quickly caught by Ezra, who captures your lips in a sloppy kiss, his spend from earlier mixed between your tongues. It’s difficult to keep it up with how much you’re being jostled, so he gives up after a moment and instead opts to lick his cum off of your sweaty cheek. You’re pleasantly surprised when you feel Marcus’s hand come up to grasp at your chin, tilting your face so that he’s able to do the same on the opposite side. 
The two of you clean your face with their tongues as they thrust into you at a punishing pace, somehow hitting spots you didn’t even know existed. You let out a raspy groan, your hands scrambling over both of their bodies for purchase. 
A heat is beginning to build once again in your abdomen, pleasure licking up your spine. It only takes a few more alternating thrusts before you’re coming around their cocks with a scream. You tighten around both of their throbbing cocks, getting them closer to their own ends. 
Marcus comes first once again, still slightly affected by the drug from earlier. He bites onto your shoulder as he busts inside of you, slamming his hips up and locking in place, his hands coming up to squeeze your tits as his balls empty into your ass. 
Ezra follows right after, seemingly liking Marcus’s idea of a gag, and biting into your other shoulder. You scream again at the pressure of both men’s teeth, your arms raising so you can grasp both of their hair, holding them close. 
Your orgasm lingers for as long as theirs do, the three of you coming completely down at the same time. You stay in a sweaty heap for a long time, just trying to catch your breath and make sense of what’s real and what’s not. 
You all fall apart after a few minutes, exhaustion officially taking over you. You can feel both of the men’s cum leaking from your holes as they pull out and help you lay comfortable on the cot. They get situated next to you, and you’re all out like lights within the next minute. 
The next morning, Ezra’s waiting for the two of you with a portable can of fuel and an extra mask. Your departure is swift and unawkward, Ezra walking with the two of you back to your ship like you’ve known each other for years. It takes a bit longer than it should due to your body being practically fucking wrecked from last night, but both of the men help you get along. 
When you reach your craft, you all say your goodbyes, knowing this will more than likely be the last time you’ll come across this strange man. To be frank, you’re still a bit confused about what exactly transpired last night, but you choose to ignore it. Your head is pounding with what feels like the worst hangover you’ve ever had, and you’re just eager to get off of this nightmare planet. 
Ezra watches you fuel up your craft and then take off, smiling and honestly quite satisfied with himself. Neither of you even figured it out that he was the one who planted the trap and laced the dirt pit with the drug, nor that he may have let a bit more slip inside his tent.
***** I mean really, do we really expect anything less from Ezra?
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sixxeyes · 11 months
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redamancy.
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(n.) - a love returned in full feat. childe w.c. : 5.2 k warnings : nsfw , f!reader , entirely self-indulgent lol , very very soft. like excruciatingly soft. note : hbd to the literal love of my life :salute: i was going to write something out of pocket, but i'm a big baby and need lots of fluff so lol enjoy being loved by tartag three years in a row
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Throughout the time dating your boyfriend, Childe has always been one hell of a lover to you. He has been nothing but understanding and kind; whenever you told him to give you some space while you pondered your own feelings for him or needed time to yourself, he had always nodded his head and promised you that he would be there for you should you ever called him.
And Childe always came through when you did call for him. 
He was patient with you as you figured out what you wanted in your relationship with him and how you felt specifically for him, never rushing you when you took some time to finally tell him that you loved him and only began to get clingy with you when you finally reciprocated his feelings. 
He loved you so much and you could feel it with every action he showed you.
And you wanted to show him how much you appreciate him with a cake made with love just for him. Your idea was big and grand; a heart cake with a cute whale on top decorated with cute stars and a moncerous caeli, his constellation, hidden somewhere on the cake.
However, due to your lack of baking ability and patience, your frosting wasn’t working correctly and… well.
Your heart beats rapidly against your chest seeing the lump of blue frosting melting ontop of your cake. The base was decently done, the light blue frosting wasn’t perfectly even but it was smooth enough and that was all that you needed. However, the decorative blue frosting for the whale had not set properly and Childe was due to visit any time soon. 
With a knife, you carefully scoop off the blue lump and try again in hopes of the frosting understanding your panic but your heart breaks once more seeing the blob fall onto your base. Just as you begin to try again, the sound of your door unlocking and opening sends your heart to your stomach. As the door closes and you hear rustling as your guest enters your home, you quickly stand in front of your mess of a cake in a state of panic. 
He was visiting way earlier than usual.
“Sweetheart?” Childe’s voice calls out for you. “Are you home?”
A head of orange curls pokes out from the doorway of your kitchen and immediately a bright smile grows on his face. With quick strides, you’re enveloped into a warm hug; the comforting scent of citrus and the salty breeze of the ocean surrounds you and it was like all of your worries for today just melt away as soon as his arms wrap around you. Childe’s scent, his entire presence, was something you found yourself easily melting into.
The deep ocean stares back at you, the dark seas twinkling lightly as they reflect their affections for you. It’s a rare sight to see such light in his eyes according to most others, like his short grumpy coworker who always picks a fight with your lover, but you’re glad that the stars reflected in his eyes are a sight reserved only for you to see.
“You’re wearing my shirt…” he murmurs quietly as he takes in the sight of you. Rough fingers fiddle with the edge of the maroon shirt over your form and he smiles sweetly. A soft kiss is pressed onto your cheek, gentle lips tickling your skin and you fight back a smile as more are firmly pressed along your face. If they had left marks, there would be a freckle of kisses along your visage.
“What’s all this?” Childe asks. His chin rests on your shoulder as he peeks over your body, but you reflexively shift your shoulders to shield the mess from his field of view. He attempts again and your head tilts in his way. A soft chuckle is heard beside your ear before his arms hold your body still and he successfully gets a view of the cake behind you, much to your dismay. 
“I was trying to make you a cake, but the decorating isn’t going as planned…” You murmur softly, eyes averting his gaze when he glances back to you. You couldn’t bear to meet his eyes knowing the state of his cake. “Don’t laugh, I know it’s ugly right now.”
You’re fully expecting your boyfriend to tease you for the misshapen cake you decided to dedicate to him; it’s not unusual for the two of you to bicker and poke fun at one another. It was something that you loved about your relationship, but this was something you really tried your hardest on and if he made fun of you for this you were sure to start crying in front of him. 
A burning sensation begins to build in your eyes as you prepare for your lover’s remark.
“Oh, my beloved,” Childe coos. A gentle hand cups your jaw and guides your face in his direction; your eyes hesitantly meet his gaze and you want to cry even more with the way he looks at you. There’s nothing but affectionate warmth in his gaze as he takes in your gift before glancing back at you. “Why would I laugh at something you gifted me?”
You shrug and he softly chuckles beside you. You feel his lips press firmly onto the side of your cheek and your skin burns at the act. 
“You worked hard to make me a gift even if you didn’t need to, which is more than I could ever ask for,” Childe whispers lovingly into your ear. With another fond kiss to your head, your lover pulls away from your shared embrace. 
“Can I kiss you?”
Childe’s voice is soft, a contrast from your usual confident lover. The strong, powerful honed soldier fit to serve the Tsaritsa and the Tsaritsa only was now hesitantly asking you to do something intimate. You exhale softly at how you’ve gotten this powerful weapon of war wrapped around your finger and you wonder just what it was about you that he loved so much.
You couldn’t even get a proper answer out; as soon as you nod your head a pair of lightly chapped lips press onto yours. The kiss was very gentle and sweet. So many words of love and affection were poured into that simple kiss, every tender movement causing your heart to soar  in your chest. His hand gently squeezes your hand, a small reminder that he was experiencing this intimate moment with you, and you sigh from his touch.
You love him so much.
As you pull away from him, your eyes immediately meet his gaze and it only sends your nerves into more of a frazzled mess. If you’ve never been swept away by a heavy tide and pulled underneath the unforgiving undertow to be engulfed in the ocean, you might as well have experienced that now with the way your boyfriend was staring at you. Love was evident in his gaze, but with the dark blue engulfing his irises you knew there was something more brewing. 
With a short glance to your lips, Childe leans forward again to press his lips on yours. However, this time his kiss conveyed a different emotion than the previous one. Compared to the innocence of the other one, this one screamed of desperation and need. As his lips move hungrily over yours, you groan and grip onto the kitchen counter as he pushes into you. However, your boyfriend pulls away when you suddenly wince from the tile digging into your back. 
You don’t get a chance to question his motives before strong arms lift you from the ground and onto the counter. The cool temperature of the kitchen tiles contrast to the heat of the moment and you shudder in excitement, which only causes Childe to smile at your reaction. 
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, slipping between your legs and once more leaning into your body. As if on instinct, your arms loosely wrap around his shoulders to pull him closer to you. You shrug and avert your eyes playfully to the side as he leans in to press a kiss at the juncture of your neck beneath your ear. 
“Nothing much, just how much I love you,” you respond with a small laugh. Childe hums beside you before pulling away to stare into your eyes again. There’s a playful sparkle in his eyes, but it’s dwarfed by the amount of the warmest, most serene ocean blue that lull you in a comfort that you can only find with the man in front of you. 
“I would argue that that’s a bigger deal than you’re making it out to be.” He chuckles, rough and calloused hands resting on your waist as he pulls you into him. His lips find yours again, the same desire to love you and show his affections for you clear as day the more he kisses you. With a gentle prod at your bottom lip, his tongue slips into your mouth and explores everything that he can touch. Your hand runs through his orange curls and lightly grip his hair, groaning as his tongue slips over your own.
This only excites Childe further; it’s not his fault that you’re so sweet to him and have the cutest reactions when he’s giving his love to you. He wants to show you what you mean to him after going out of your comfort zone just for his sake. 
Childe pulls away from the kiss, but his lips never stray from you. They trail kisses along your neck as his fingers undo the buttons of his maroon shirt draping over your body. A sigh escapes your lips and your own fingers play with the ginger curls at the base of his neck. His tongue gently laps at your skin as his lips gently caress the area after and-
“Childe!” you yelp as you as his teeth playfully nip your skin. His lips curl into a smile that you most definitely can feel as he gently kisses your neck as an apology.
“Sorry, dear,” Childe murmurs, but he certainly doesn’t feel an ounce of remorse. Calloused fingers slide the maroon shirt off of your shoulders and the cooler temperature of the kitchen surrounds your entire being. Blue eyes are taking in your appearance, and you know there’s something brewing in the deep blue abyss as his eyes slowly stare down your body. 
Soon after, you can feel his hands explore the expanse of your exposed torso, running over your skin and curvature of your body. It’s like he’s mapping out the way your body feels from the way he’s touching you; there’s no inch of skin left untouched. Childe’s lips find yours again as he kisses you ardor, pouring every bit of love he has for you in the movement of his lips.
“W-wait,” you stammer breathlessly, pulling away from your lover when you feel his rough fingers slip under your bra strap. He’s fiddling with the clasp as his eyes meet your gaze. You can tell he was close to just letting his desires take control of him from the way he’s looking at you.
“What is it, sweetheart?” Childe asks. He tilts his head forward to press a kiss along your jaw.
“Shouldn’t I be the one kissing you?” You ask him, gently pushing away so that your eyes can meet once more. You give him a small smile as your fingers gently tickle the back of his neck. “It’s not fair for you to be in charge on your birthday; why don’t you relax while I love you?”
Childe can feel his heart soaring from the mere suggestion. Of course, he would never turn down any request from you, especially if it was a request to have your lips all over his body and hopefully around his dick. But, as much as he loved the idea, he had other plans in mind that he needed to do to you. 
It’s not his fault that you made it so easy to love you.
With a shake of his head and a quick movement from his fingers, your bra is unclasped and slipped off of your shoulders. A gasp escapes your lips as your chest is bare in front of your lover, though you know he is very much enjoying the view in front of him. 
“Not tonight,” Childe responds with an amused smile. His lips trail down your skin, soft kisses leading to your chest as rough hands gently run over your breasts. “Let me enjoy you as my gift tonight, darling.”
He doesn’t even let you respond to him as his lips press a gentle kiss at your nipple. His tongue swirls around the sensitive nub while his hand gropes at the breast left unattended. Your body shivers at his touch and you can’t help the blood rising to your face at his affections. Of course, you’re slightly embarrassed at having all of his attention on you on his special day even after making a mess of a cake for him. It should be you kissing him, trailing kisses down his body and worshiping him until all he could see were the galaxy of stars that shone the brightest the minute he was born. 
You breathe out his name in a soft whisper before Childe detaches himself from your chest. His thumbs brush over your nipples as his hands cup and squeeze your breasts. He smiles, licking his lips in a manner that sends a pleasant shudder down your spine. 
“You’re so beautiful,” Childe murmurs before leaning forward once more to kiss you. You hum in his kiss, groaning softly as his tongue parts your lips once more as he takes in your taste again and again. His hands slide down your body and his fingers find their way to the button of your shorts. With deft fingers, your button is swiftly undone and you lift your hips to help slide them off. 
“You’re one to talk, ‘Jax,” you quip back at him when he finally pulls away from the kiss, but your slightly playful demeanor when you feel his fingers brush past your clothed core. Your breath hitches and you can feel the smile on his lips when he kisses at the juncture of your neck. His name leaves your mouth in a soft whisper and your fingers cling to his shoulders. 
“Hm, what was that?” Childe chuckles softly when your body twitches as his finger presses into your clothed clit. Your huff of air clearly entertaining your boyfriend as he gently massages your sensitive bud through the thin fabric of your underwear. Your body shudders again as you close your eyes to his touch, your fingers burying themselves into his orange sea of curls as you try to ground yourself. 
“Sh-shut up,” you stammer out with a gentle yank of his hair. He only laughs softly in response and gently kisses your neck. Your breathing gets heavier with each movement of his fingers as he gently teases and prods at your clit and you can feel the pleasure building up. Your hips squirm on the kitchen counter as you try to grind up into his fingers for a bit more pressure; you needed a bit more stimulation than he was currently giving you.
Childe hums beside your ear, gently nipping your earlobe as he feels you shift your hips underneath him. “Do you need some more excitement, dear?” he muses. His fingers, however, slowly stop their pleasurable massage on your clit and your eyes widen at the cease of movement. He pulls away from you, his deep blue eyes an abyss of desire as he stares into your eyes. There’s a playful smirk on his lips as he glances at your lips and then meets your gaze once more. “There’s no need to rush; we have all day to enjoy the moment, and I want to take my time enjoying my birthday gift.”
He presses a tantalizing kiss at the crook of your neck before trailing slow, agonizing kisses down your body. You want to tell him to hurry up, but your voice fails you. Can anyone blame you when your lover was purposefully teasing you in the best way possible?
Your breath hitches when his lips finally meet the band of your underwear and it suddenly dawns on you what he’s going to do. Instinctively, your knees attempt to close so he doesn’t get a view of you down there, but, much to your dismay, his hands firmly hold your legs open.
“Childe,” you begin, but your words get caught in your throat when his eager fingers slip underneath the band of your panties and slide them down your legs. You don’t even get a chance to protest before you feel his lips kissing lower and lower until-
Your hips twitch and you let out a sweet noise when Childe kisses your clit. Your hand automatically comes up to cover your mouth knowing what he was about to do. With your fingers clinging to the kitchen counter and your mouth muffled, you moan softly as his tongue laps at your sensitive bud. The wet muscle swirls around the nub, lips kissing and sucking on it as you try your best to hang onto whatever amount of sanity you had left. The pleasure was building in your stomach and throughout your nerves as it washes over your body in gentle waves. 
A breathy cry leaves your lips when you feel him move even lower; his tongue licks a stripe up your folds and you can feel his mouth vibrate at your core as he savors your taste. You can only say his name once before his tongue delves into your pussy. Immediately, your hands fly to his head, fingers burying themselves into his ginger curls and your thighs squish around his head. 
You can feel him chuckle against you and then rough, calloused fingers firmly grip your thighs and pry your legs apart. The wet, soppy sound of his mouth suctioned to your cunt as his tongue thrusts into you is all you can hear while he eats you out. There’s the occasional groan from your boyfriend as your hand pushes his face deeper into your hips or when your hips grind up to meet his tongue, but regardless of what you hear your head is spinning as his stimulation overwhelms you.
Childe pulls away from your pussy only to press a kiss onto your clit again, one of his hands lets go of your plush thighs as he slips a finger into you. You’re panting heavily at this point and your grip on his hair tightens. The burning white pleasure is building even more as his finger thrusts inside your cunt; he’s building a steady rhythm with his meanwhile sucking and kissing your sensitive bud and your head is spinning. You are not going to last any longer if he keeps this up. 
Another finger slips in and you throw your head back. It’s hard to keep your mind from going insane with the way he brushes against that sweet spot. You can’t see him, but you can feel him smiling from underneath you and his fingers brush that spot again and again, massaging it until the heat in your body nearly explodes.
He’s so mean, but you can’t bring it in you to tell him to stop. Not when it feels so excruciatingly  good.
“Ch-Childe,” you stammer out in between moans, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.
Your boyfriend’s thumb gently rubs your thigh while the fingers that were pressing into your sweet spot over and over increase in intensity. The sloppy sound of his mouth sucking on your clit and the gentle rake of his teeth over the sensitive skin is enough to send you over the edge. The pleasure is building up so fast and your fingers bury deep into his hair as you practically shove him into your pussy. 
Were you suffocating him? Could he even breathe?
You didn’t care. All that was on your mind was the overwhelming white pleasure that burns through your body, crashing over your entire being as your hips ride into his face. His free hand grips your thighs as your legs tighten around his neck to pull him closer to your body while his fingers buried deep inside your walls help you ride out your orgasm. 
His name is the only word that spills out of your lips in a slurred and breathy mantra as the waves of your orgasm wash over your nerves.
As you cool down from the high of your climax, Childe gently slips his fingers out of your sensitive pussy. His hands pry open your shaking legs and you can see the twinkle of his eyes as he watches you, completely breathless, on the kitchen counter. 
You nearly cum again when your boyfriend locks eyes with you and licks his fingers clean. 
“You taste so sweet, love,” Childe coos, turning his head and pressing his lips against your inner thigh. He showers small kisses against your skin gently and your body shivers underneath his touch. “If I could, I would spend all day just eating you out until all I can taste is your pussy on my tongue for the rest of my life.”
You can feel your ears burning at his dirty words, but you can’t deny that it made your stomach somersault at the mere thought. 
“But, there are other, more urgent matters that I want to deal with. So, we’ll save that idea for next time, okay?” Childe whispers playfully. He presses a final kiss on your thigh before standing up once more. He leans into you; his hands firmly grab at your waist as he pulls you into his body. Your lover’s lips find yours in a kiss as his lips move against yours in fervor. 
The taste of your cum on his lips melts into your own mouth as his tongue slips into yours, and you groan as Childe presses more into you. His kisses are hungry and rough, almost as if his lust and desire to have you was taking full control of his body at this point. Your fingers cling onto his shoulders as you hold him close to you, savoring the heat of the moment and the passion shared between you two.
Childe whispers your name as he pulls away only for his lips to go straight for your neck. He’s kissing the skin of your neck, lips suctioning to areas of your skin as his tongue scrapes over the area trapped in his mouth. You sigh breathily, feeling his mouth caress and suck at your skin. You only wince when his teeth graze your skin and bite you once more. 
But you don’t stop him as he leaves love bites onto the expanse of your skin.
Lost in your own bliss and the kisses pressed into your skin, you don’t realize what Childe’s doing until you feel something hard press against your pussy. Your eyes slowly open as your turn your head to face your lover; a head of ginger curls is all you see as he’s too busy kissing your neck and fisting his dick as he prepares himself to fuck you.
Your stomach flutters in excitement and your hand slowly reaches down to touch his cock. When your fingers brush against his, you can feel your smile growing seeing his body flinch at your touch. 
“Babe?” Childe asks. He pulls away from the crook of your neck and you can feel your pussy moisten from the sight of him. 
He’s an absolute, horny wreck. His blue eyes are dark, darker than you’ve ever seen them and you fear he may have jumped too deep into the pits of the ocean from the way he’s looking at you. There’s a glaze over his eyes and his cheeks are flushed from not only eating you out earlier, but from pumping his dick in his hand and the excitement of having your cunt around him. 
Your heart swells in pride knowing that he’s like this because of you. 
“Let me do it for you,” you tell him softly, gently removing his hand from his cock as your fingers wrap around it in his stead. “It’s your birthday, at least let me treat you with this.”
Childe lets out a strained groan at your touch, but he doesn’t stop you. Instead, he buries his face back into the crook of your neck along with a few kisses sprinkled onto your skin. 
Immediately, you get to work. Your thumb swipes at the head of his dick and he shivers from the touch; you can feel your smile growing from his reactions to your touch. Your thumb gently massages the tip of his cock, gently coaxing as much precum as you could over the head before your hand begins to slowly pump his dick. It’s a slow and steady rhythm at first and Childe moans softly into your neck. His hips meet your hand in its pace and you can feel him get harder with each stroke. 
Childe whispers out your name in a soft moan when you playfully let your finger trail along the shaft of his cock before your hand grasps him once more to line him up at the entrance of your pussy. Your body shudders feeling the tip slip through your folds, the mixture of his precum and your wet pussy making the sensation all the more pleasurable.
“Are you ready?” you whisper to your boyfriend. Your free hand gently runs through Childe’s hair as he pulls away from your neck. His eyes meet yours and your pussy throbs at the pure lust and love in his eyes. A rough hand reaches up to grab yours, bringing it to his lips as he presses a kiss to your knuckles.
“I’m always ready for you, my beloved.”
Childe kisses you again, muffling both of your moans as he presses his hips into yours. His dick slides into your pussy; it brushes up against your walls in the best way possible, each inch digging into you sends waves of pleasure through your body. Instinctively, your legs wrap around his hips as you help push him deeper into your cunt. Your boyfriend laughs softly at your eagerness, pulling away from your lips with an amused smile. 
“Already?”
You roll your eyes and yank your hand away from his, but he quickly catches it once more. He intertwines your fingers with a gentle squeeze and a twinkle in his ocean eyes.
“Just shut up and fuck me, ‘Jax.”
Your lover does not need to be told what to do twice. With a quiet ‘yes, ma’am,’ Childe’s hips begin a slow and steady rhythm as he grinds into you. As the pleasant sensation of his dick rubbing inside your pussy, you sigh and let your eyes flutter shut; each movement is absolute bliss for you and you don’t doubt that Childe feels the same way from the way he’s groaning and panting in your ear. 
Whispers of praise and love are whispered into your ear the more the pressure builds up between the both of you. There’s no rush, no race for the end of the finish line as the both of you revel in the ecstasy shared as your hips meet again and again. Childe gently grabs your chin to tilt your face towards him and his lips hungrily capture your own once more in a heated kiss. Your moans are swallowed by him as he pushes you onto the kitchen counter.
The cool tile presses against your back and you shiver, though it doesn’t distract you much considering the gradual increasing intensity of Childe’s hips thrusting into your own. His fingers, still intertwined with yours, squeeze your hand against the kitchen tile as he pulls away from your mouth. His eyes are beautiful as he stares down at you, gaze in a lust-filled haze and lips parted as the most beautiful, sweet moans leave his lips. 
“You feel so good; your pussy was made for me,” Childe groans out. He leans forward once more but buries his face back into the crook of your neck. It’s hard to focus on anything when his hips are slapping against your own, the noises getting louder and wetter the more he pulls his dick out only to slam back into your pussy, and his whines right beside your ear as the pleasure spreads throughout your body. 
His free hand roughly grabs a hold of your thigh, pulling your body closer to the edge of the counter before pushing your leg up. It’s a bit of a stretch for you, but god does the angle that he’s hitting you from feel so good. A strangled moan leaves your lips as Childe roughly fucks you, sparks of pleasure rapidly building up in your stomach the more he hits that special, sweet spot that makes you see stars.
“Childe, I-I’m…!” you cry out, fingers grasping the back of his head. You feel him kiss the base of your neck.
“Go on, I’m close too. Don’t hold back now.”
It doesn’t take long for you to cum, your second orgasm crashes over you in a huge wave; pleasure engulfs your entire being as your body spasms. Your leg tightly curls around his hip, your head thrown back and back arching. You can hear Childe grunt from beside you as your pussy clenches around his dick as he helps you ride out your orgasm with gentle praise.
You feel his teeth sink into the skin of your shoulder as his hips messily thrust into your own before you feel his movements still and his pelvis buried deep into your own followed by a muffled moan. Both of your chests are heaving and the sound of heavy breathing echoes throughout the kitchen while you both desperately try to catch your breath. 
After a few quiet moments, Childe pulls away from your neck and gently tilts your head towards him to take a look at you. You’re sure you’re a mess, but you don’t care as you admire your boyfriend as he hovers above you. His hair is a mess, worse than usual from your fingers constantly burying themselves into his ginger sea of curls, and his cute cheeks are flushed from the throes of passion shared just moments prior. His lips are parted as he pants, the corners lifted slightly upwards as his ocean eyes take in your own messy, fucked out expression.
Childe kisses you, peppering soft kisses on your lips and gently around your face. 
“I love you. I love you so, so much,” he murmurs quietly against your skin and you don’t ever doubt what he truly means. His lips press into yours again, causing your heart to flutter in your chest at the simple, yet sweet act of affection. 
Your heart doesn’t stop swelling with the love you held specifically for Childe even as he pulls out of you and helps clean up the mess you made, not even when he playfully asks for another round as you head to the shower to wash up after already going at it just moments before.
You love him, too, and you thank the gods for guiding him to you so that you can love him just as much as he loves you.
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domnamewoman · 7 months
Note
You know I've always wonder if the characters meet with a teen reader (platonic relationship) who can control elements. They found her by accident and saw her like catching fish using her water bending.
(sorry if I disturbing you. Please do tell me anything if I broke a rule or something because I'm trying my best to find your rule book)
PS love your Mortal Kombat :3
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Title: Little Elements
Summary: You are a teen Elemental who is just trying to survive and find your mom after a mysterious sorcerer abducts her and banishes you to Earthrealm. One day while you are trying to catch dinner, you are ambushed by random men who believe you are the one terrorizing Earthrealm.
Warnings: Teen!GN!Reader, Canon-Typical Violence
Word Count: 1,479
Masterlist
Requests Are Open
What are you going to do? You can survive on your own, sure, but for how long? Who can you even ask for help? You don’t know anyone in this realm and from what you’ve been told, most Earthrealmers don’t even know about Outworld and its inhabitants. How can they help you find your way back, let alone your mom?
Your mom… right.
That bastard! As soon as you find him, he’s dead! You’ll make him pay for what he did to you and your mother. You’ll make him regret underestimating you and reducing your mother to nothing more than a puppet. When you find him you’ll… you’ll…
How will you find him though? You don’t even know his name. Thanks to him you are stranded in Earthrealm. You let out a frustrated sigh. You aren’t powerful enough to open a portable to get back to Outworld. Is there anyone here who is? How can you find them?
You angrily kick a rock and watch it tumble into the river in front of you as a wave of helplessness washes over you. You shake your head to clear it and take a calming breath. You’re no good to your mom if you’re frazzled and drained.
You’ll figure out a plan later, for now, you’ll focus on getting something to eat so you don’t starve to death before you can.
You stand at the bank of the river and let the sounds of nature calm you. The rushing of water downstream. The chirping of the birds’ morning song. The rustling of the wind passing through leaves. It’s almost enough to fool you into believing you are out for a recreational trek through the woods and not stranded all alone.
Raising your hands, you search for the ball of energy stored at the center of your chest and feel it unravel. It begins to spread across your chest, down your arms, and rest in your palms. You move your hands from left to right and watch as the river’s water swirls up into the air.
You parse through the water using your water bending to search for fish and wash them ashore. You are able to find three smallmouth basses and decide they are enough sustenance for today. You bend down to collect them when you feel the air suddenly become charged around you.
Whipping around, your eyes land on four men standing at the tree line. One of them shoots out his hand and a bolt of lightning comes flying toward you. You narrowly manage to dive out of the way and the bolt zaps the spot you were just in.
You feel heat erupt from your chest and plunge down your arms as flames engulf your hands.
“Who are you!?” You question as you take a defensive stance.
“Earthrealm’s Protectors.” The one wearing a razor-rimmed hat declares.
Before you have a chance to process this, another bolt of lightning is making its way to you. Unfortunately, this time you are unable to move out of the way fast enough and fall to the ground as your body shakes in pain.
After the shock subsides, you roll onto your hands and knees. Your breath is nothing but gasps as you try to get air into your lungs. How dare these people attack you unprovoked! Earthrealm’s Protectors? You aren’t doing anything harmful! All you are trying to do is get something to eat. What is their deal? It doesn't matter, you will return the favor of attacking first and asking questions later.
Resting both palms flat against the ground, you force energy through them and the ground begins to violently shake. The men are thrown off balance and it is just the distraction you need to execute an attack.
Throwing your hands out in quick succession, you send several fireballs hurling toward them. You watch as the four men jump around in an effort to dodge the onslaught.
“Now that wasn’t very nice, Hotshot.” One of them says while removing his sunglasses.
Your eyes roll as you scoff. “You’re one to talk. I can still feel the aftershocks from Sir Zaps-a-lot over there.”
“Sir Zaps-a-lot?” Asks the one wearing a… blindfold? Strange.
“Yes! He electrocuted me for no reason!”
“You appear to be no older than 14. Why are you here terrorizing Earthrealm?” Sir Zaps-a-lot asks.
You let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m 15, thank you very much. Also, how is fishing terrorizing anyone!? I was just trying to get something to eat and you attacked me completely unprovoked!”
“Unprovoked? You have been going around causing earthquakes, fires, floods, and tornados in highly populated areas. You have killed innocent Earthrealmers and destroyed many people’s homes and livelihoods! Yet you claim you are innocent?” Razorhead bellows.
“How… I-I can’t do that!”
“Um… listen, Hotshot. We just watched you fish without a fishing rod. Not to mention the fireballs and mini earthquake you used on us. You definitely can do that.” Explains Sunglasses.
“Exactly! Mini earthquake. I can’t make one powerful enough to destroy people’s homes like you’ve said.”
The men stare at you and from their expressions you can tell they don’t believe you.
“Seriously, it wasn’t me!”
“There are not too many others who possess powers like you here.” Mr. See-no-evil states.
How are your powers uncommon? Stupid powerless Earthrealmers!
“Whatever, that still doesn’t change the fact that I’m not strong enough to create earthquakes, floods, or tornados on a scale large enough to destroy homes. I’m still in training!”
“Training by who?” Sir Zaps-a-lot inquires.
“By my mo-”
Why didn’t you think of this sooner? You know someone who is powerful enough to cause damage on a scale these men speak of. Someone who is currently under the hypnosis of a deranged sorcerer. You have to find her!
“Where did these attacks take place?” You ask as you take a step forward.
“Wait a minute Hotshot, who is your trainer?”
“My mother.” You began to pace. “About a week ago, some crazy sorcerer came to our house. I-I think my mom knew him? I had seen him talking to her before. Anyway, the day he showed up at our house he was acting all crazy. T-Then he did some weird magic hypno stuff and put my mom under some sort of spell. She would only listen to him no matter what I did. She was basically his puppet. He opened a portal and forced me to Earthrealm so I wouldn’t get in the way of his plans. I bet he’s using her to do all of the stuff you said. That bastard!”
“Okay, okay, calm down. You said your mother was taken by the sorcerer?” Mr. See-no-evil walks forward, stopping a few feet away from you.
“Yes! I know you have a blindfold on, but do you also have earplugs?”
“There is no need to get testy.”
“Can it, Razorhead!”
“Pfft… Razorhead.” Sunglasses chuckles under his breath.
“My name is Kung Lao, and that is not the attitude one should have when asking for help.”
“Asking for help? Who needs your help?”
“You do. How do you intend to find your mother? Are you going to take on the sorcerer by yourself? My name is Raiden, by the way.”
Dang it, they’re right!
“Fine, I’m sorry. You’re right, there’s no way I can beat him by myself. What am I going to do?” You drop your head in defeat.
Sunglasses walks up to you and throws his arm around your shoulder. “Don’t worry your pretty little head. We won’t leave you to face him all alone. We fight for the weak. That’s what Earthrealm’s Protectors are all about.”
“I’m not weak,” You grumble, resisting the urge to elbow him in the side.
“What he means is, we will help you find your mom and take down this insidious sorcerer.” Kung Lao promises.
“We will take you to Wu Shi and inform our leader Liu Kang of your situation,” Raiden adds.
“But we don’t have time for that. We have to find my mom.” You are starting to get impatient now that you know there is a possibility your mother is here in Earthrealm.
“We will, but we need to make a plan. Plus you have been out here in the woods by yourself for a while. You look like you could use some rest… and some food.” Mr. See-no-evil pointedly nods toward the three fish on the ground you caught earlier.
Just then your stomach decides to remind you just how empty it is.
“Alright, I guess.” You begrudgingly agree.
Wait a minute.
“How do you know there are fish on the ground, aren’t you blindfolded!?”
Everyone starts laughing and you feel as though you’ve been left out of some inside joke.
Mr. See-no-evil starts walking backward toward the tree line. “Come on, I will tell you on the way.”
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Should this be a series? Also, we aren't even going to talk about the nicknames... I tried 🤷🏾‍♀️
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ratsarekindacute2 · 7 months
Text
fuck now kill later ! Sukuna x Fem!Reader ╴☆
Sorry this took so long to come out! Thanks for the request Anon! (lost the message :c ) And for the sake of this story, Yuji has his own body <3
Summary : You were tasked to assassinate Ryomen sukuna , but things take a wild turn of events
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You , a grade 1 sorcerer were assigned a mission to kill the king of curses, Ryomen Sukuna. Believe it or not but you were still considered a "newbie" in the jujitsu world but you managed to climb the ranks at a very fast speed. But despite that you were very nervous to meet the famous King of Curses himself , even tried to get out of doing the mission, but the higher up insisted that you take on the mission just so you can showcase your strength to prove you were "worthy" , whatever that was supposed to mean. ╴
You sigh, frustrated at the situation you got yourself in.
---
The leaves rustled under you feet as you walked around the forest in the middle of the night , the cold breeze sending chills down your spine as you continued to walk hoping for any hints about his current whereabouts.
"Speak of the devil.." you mumble under your breath noticing that Sukuna was now standing behind you , shirtless as always...
You turn to face him , he gives you a sly smirk , knowing that you're here on a mission to kill him. "You Jujitsu Sorcerers always know how to kill the mood..." he says with a slight hint of annoyance in his words.
His eyes look you up and down and scan your figure, you see him then smirk and lick his lips, he seems ... pleased with himself ? "Disgusting ..." you say in a low whisper. "Hmm...?" his low raspy voice sends chills down your spine, distracting you from your original mission completely. "What was that doll? " he says tilting his head slightly.
You feel your ears heating up at the little nickname but that immediately fades away at his next action.
In the blink of an eye, he moves swiftly behind you and grabs you by the hips to hold you in place. You gulped at the closeness between you two, fearing for your life. "Y'know , you would be a really attractive woman if you were to drop the attitude.."
"Who do you think you are talking to me like that?" You growl, knowing that you were tasked to kill this man but, his presence╴ there was something about him making you stop every time you tried to pull your katana out. He had you just where he wanted you, trapped in a corner...
"You really are no fun... I'm just trying to loosen the mood.." he removes his hand from your hip and walks in front of you. "Has anybody told you how hot you look when you're mad ?" He says chuckling lightly looking you dead in the eye.
He takes a few quick steps closer to you, but you in respond by stepping back, not liking the feeling of being so close to the King of Curses like this. Hoping to put distance between you two.
You abruptly come to a stop when your back hits the back of a tree, shaking the tree and causing some of the leaves to fall down gracefully.
"Shit..." your eyes widen noticing how close he is from you now...just inches away. You could practically feel the heat radiating off his body, and he could feel the heat radiating off yours.
Sukuna, on the other hand , didn't mind the closeness between you two, believe it or not but he actually liked being next to you.
While you were a blushing mess , Sukuna was admiring your features , poor guy didn't even know your name and he was already thinking about how long he could pound your pussy and how many rounds you'll be able to take.
You shifted your feet , noticing his lingering stare on your face.
Even though you blew your opportunity to kill him minutes ago, you didn't want to go back to the higher up empty handed.While Sukuna was distracted in his own thoughts you reached for your katana ,clutching it tightly as you pour your cursed energy into it.
But in another swift movement, Sukuna takes both of your hands a pin them to the tree behind you.
"Still planning on killing me eh?"
He moves his head closer to the crook of your neck with his lips almost close to kissing your neck.You can hear he muttered something to himself before lifting his head and smashing his lips onto yours.
You gasp slightly , surprised by his actions , Sukuna takes this opportunity to deepen the kiss and slip his tongue in and explore the insides of your mouth. He was quick to swirl his tongue with your own , you tasted so sweet to him. You found yourself wanting more as soon as he pulled away.
"Hmm...such a needy slut", he says while moving his hand to grip your neck slightly, not too hard and not too light.
Now that you've had a taste of him, you wanted more- no , you needed more of him.
He kept his lips hovering over yours as he spoke, "You know how bad you want it, I bet your panties are practically soaked by now" He was right, one thing you could never do was lie to yourself , and if you did you would be a horrible liar.
All you could manage in response was a pathetic whimper.
He reconnected your lips before you could get another word out. Swirling his tongue with yours once more.
You didn't want to give into the King of Curses desires but your body absolutely craved for him and needed more.
---
Minutes later you were already pinned to the forest floor , with your hands above your head and your legs spread open for Sukuna to get a good look at your , already wet, cunt.
Him on the other hand, still had his pants on.
(remember he only had his pants on in the beginning)
"unfair..." you say to yourself. Sukuna notices this frustration on your face and takes off his pants and boxers.
"Minutes ago you wanted me dead, now you want me to fuck you?What a strange human.."
You gasped at the size of his cock, you probably won't be able to walk for the next couple of days. He pressed the tip of his cock against your entrance and pressed his lips right next to your ear and whispered,
"You wanted this right? So take it", shoving his entire cock inside of you with no mercy.
"W-wait!" You moaned, not being able to take the size of his cock.
"So, tight..", he groaned. You couldn't believe it, you had the King of Curses, Sukuna , down on his knees , fucking the living shit out of you.
He thrust-ed in and out of you at a rough speed, the sound of skin clapping is the only thing that could be heard cumming from the forest.
It was like two wild animals , fucking in the depths of the forest late at night.
“Please…” you said whimpering.
"Please what?" He said with a smug look going across his features while keeping his hips at a steady pace.
"P-" you began, hesitating for a second. "Please let me cum-" you finally said, pathetically.
The man was practically splitting you open at this point. You arched your back on the forest floor as your orgasm was finally approaching.
“Such a good girl. Now take that dick and cum for me baby."
And with a few more thrust, your orgasm finally reached and your juices squired all over his length. With your orgasm triggering his own, a wave of pleasure flooded the both of you as he came inside of you.
Filling you up in spaces you never thought anything could go.
Finally coming down from your high, you reach for you clothes preparing to leave.
"Leaving so soon?" You heard him say from behind you. You turn to face him red in the face, coming back to your senses "Unlike you, I have to go explain to the higher ups that I was unable to "find" you"
He chuckled at your comment , standing up fully and walking up towards you. "Y'know I would like to join you, and walk you back to jujitsu tech."
"You do know that they're going to kill you if they see you , right?" you said staring at him all serious like.
He sighed, "I'll be fine."
"Whatever you say then..."
Completely ignoring that fact that you two just had sex, you and Sukuna walked off into the night..
---
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I personally do not like the ending, it was rushed just like this entire story... :c But I still hope you enjoyed , and remember , request are still and forever will be open !
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deerlottie · 4 months
Text
🐶🦝 — the best tip
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summary: shauna and nat don’t have enough money to pay for the pizza. warnings: 18+ MDNI, based off a porno…delivery guy!reader, bondage, dubcon, transmasc!reader, tdick, degrading.
as you wait outside the front door with a hot pizza in hand, you sigh and kick your feet. you couldn't wait to go home after this. it was your last delivery of the night and all you wanted to do was jump under your comfy blankets and sleep.
you stand up straight when you hear rustling from inside and clear your throat. a woman with brown hair that falls a little past her shoulders opens the door with a kind smile, making a noise of happiness as she eyes the pizza. "oh, finally! come on in sweetie. set it on the table will you? i'll be right back with the money."
nodding, you walk in and notice another figure off to the side smoking. they're wearing nothing but a white t-shirt, panties and fishnets. you blush and avert your eyes while timidly putting the box on the table.
"what's your name, pizza boy?" they speak, putting out the cigarette in the ashtray.
"uh, i-its-"
"natty, leave them alone! gosh, i'm so sorry. how much was it again?" the woman asks, fishing in her wallet.
"18.50." you reply, impatiently leaning against the chair. you catch who you now know as natty's eye and he smirks at you, raising his eyebrows.
"shit. i don't have enough. nat, do you have any cash on you?"
"nope. only a credit card that has a dollar on it. sorry shauna." he doesn't sound sorry at all. in fact, he looks smug as he walks towards you and looks you up and down. "how 'bout this - you give us the pizza for free, and we fuck you."
your eyes widen at his proposal and you laugh. yeah, right. you shake your head and go to grab the pizza box but nat is faster. he pushes you away, causing you to stumble back. "fuck it. just take the pizza, i'm out of here."
but before you can open the door, shauna and nat jump on you, grabbing your limbs so you're rendered useless as you try to punch at them.
"what the fuck?! let me go!" you struggle in their grip but they easily overtake you and lead you over to the couch, tossing you on it. they're on you again, and shauna covers your incessant 'bitching' with her hand, your groans muffled. "look at him, natty. so pathetic under our grasp."
you thrash around on the couch but it's no use, nat has his whole weight on your legs. he laughs condescendingly at your feeble attempts to flee and smacks the side of your ass. "stop moving! shut up and enjoy this, slut."
he motions at shauna, "go get the rope. and duct tape too."
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once they finish securing the ropes, shauna places the tape around your mouth while nat holds your face still. "good. now we can't hear him complain." he slaps your face playfully and shauna moves to sit on your legs.
her hands leisurely travel down to your pants, running against your unfortunate bulge. you hear hear chuckle as you moan from her hands feeling around it, still trying to wiggle out of the rope. "seems like your mouth says no, but your head says yes." she squeezes your tdick, making your whimper out in pleasure.
as she unbuckles your belt, you feel a wave of panic surge through your body and start kicking your legs again, but you can't lie, some part of you likes this. you hear nat mock how you're still struggling and he kneels by your head. "look at him shauna, still tryna fight back when he knows we've won."
nat roughly tugs your pants down to your mid thighs and you hide your face into your arms as you prepare for their words as they notice how drenched your boxers are. they both coo, rubbing their hands along your skin, groping and grabbing at you.
"c'mon, just relax. we'll take care of you." nat murmurs in your ear, lifting your shirt up to your chin. he squeezes both your pecs before harshly pinching one of your nipples between his fingers. you groan out in pain, trying to twist your body away from him.
shauna's still feeling you up, but now her focus is on your stomach - specfically your happy trail. she tugs and pulls until it feels uncomfortable and you plead for her to stop, but your voice is concealed.
"what's that, sweetie?" she asks in a sickly, sweet tone. "i couldn't hear you."
"i think he wants us to fuck him already." nat replies, getting up and heading to the kitchen. he returns with a pair of scissors and your eyes widen. he cuts a strip up your shirt, tearing the rest off so your upper half is completely naked.
you hide your face in your arms as nat leans down to lick at your hard nipples, ashamed at how much pleasure you're getting out of this. he bites down, growling like a dog as he tugs it between his teeth. as he's savoring your upper half, shauna's doing the same to your lower half.
she's giving your tdick little licks through your boxers, holding your hips down as you subconsciously try to hump her face. you slowly relax against the couch, mind going empty and numb as you take in everything that's happening to you.
"look at him, natty." shauna speaks softly, as if she spoke any louder you'd go back to fighting them. "he's finally giving in."
"good boy," nat praises you. you whimper, turning your head to face him as you stare down at him with dazed eyes. "i think he's ready." he nods at shauna.
your body shudders as shauna cuts up your boxers and takes them off, the cold air making your tdick twitch. she immediately warms you up though, greed mouth hungrily sucking you off.
nat watches for a minute before scooting over and resting a hand on shauna's head, making her bob up and down on your cock. your eyes flutter as you melt further into the couch, letting them use you however they want.
"i think we're gonna keep you, pizza boy." nat rasps out, and when you open your eyes, his are already on yours.
and you don't fight back, you don't disagree, because you want to be theirs. forever.
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flipidifloppody · 2 months
Text
𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄- 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨
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warning‼️mentions of knife, blood, murder. angst, pet names that's it
summary- there has been killings around boston , but there mostly targeting your friend group. almost all of your friends have been killed. You your boyfriend matt and one of your other friends, chloe are still alive. who could it be?
--
the last week has been very rough tbh, my friends have died due to this new 'killer' in town but i've never heard of him only me matt and chloe are left from my friend group.
i got a notification on my phone from matt earlier he told me to meet him at the old house down the road from mine. which i thought was quite odd because i either go to my house or he comes to mine. but i brushed it off because i new matt i know i was going to be safe with him around.
8:21pm
i pull up to the house but not seeing matts car anywhere in sight. "oh well" i thought to myself. i opened my car door and got out making my way to the house that i've always despised.
i walk in the house and creak the door open just to see no one in the house in front of me, at least i thought.
"matt!"
"matt, where are you is this some kind of sick joke because if it is it's not fun-"
i got cut off by a tap on my shoulder which made me turn into stone. i slowly turned my head to be met with a masked figure wearing a massive black cloak
"your not matt.." i say fearfully before trying to discover what or who is under the mask.
"well actually" he pulls of his mask "m-matt..?"
he smiles "hey baby"
i look him up and down "w-why are you wearing the killers outfit..? and why did you take me to this place you know i hate it here!"
"that's because doll, i am the killer"
my heart froze, i froze i didn't know what to say or do i had so many questions, was he actually the killer? did he kill all our friends? is he going to kill me?
"i-i w-what..?"
he chuckles softly "is there much to explain..?"
i gulped looking at his face, the sweet innocent face that used to be full of joy now full of pure seriousness.
"w-why matt.. w-why would you do this..?"
"it's not that simple sweetheart, i had to do what i have to do" he said turning his body so now that he was in front of me instead of behind.
i blinked just blinked and stood there in pure horror and anxiousness
"a-are you going to kill me?" i say trying to hold back my tears from listening to the horrifying news
he holds his knife under my chin lifting it up
"what would be the fun in telling you that, huh? but for all seriousness i'm afraid... y-yes i do have to kill you.."
tears start welling in my eyes as i try to blink them away they just keep coming back with more and more leaving me helplessly sobbing
"w-why..? what happened to our promises in loving each other for ever and never breaking each others hearts..?"
"like i said i have to do what i have to do, if it was up to me this wouldn't be happening either and we're not breaking that promise were making a new one.. promise me one thing..?"
i nod trying to wipe away my tears
"promise me you'll never forget me and that you know that i would never ever do this" he said softly before grabbing a small box from his pocket. "close your eyes baby.."
i hesitantly look down at his arm then back at up him before shutting them. i heard rustling from him and a quiet whisper "open your eyes"
i opened my eyes to be met with a silver necklace that had something engraved in it.
"for me..?" i say quietly, he just placed the box in my hand and motioned for me to read it.
it had a note in it , a small affectionate note that read
"this necklace is just like you.. beautiful, unique and special.. never forget you are loved.. forever and always.. just like this necklace”
i look up at his smiling face but also with tears running down it. i hug him and rest my head on his shoulder before releasing and putting the necklace around my neck.
"i'll always love you my darling, always and forever even though i have to kill you, i'll make it the least painful i can.. i promise.."
my lips thinned out in a straight line staring down at his..
"can i have one last kiss" i said through my sobs. he nodded and help the back of my head leaning his close to mine as we kissed. it was a quick one but worth it. knowing i would never feel them again broke my heart. but could i help it? no.
he broke the kiss and took a step back.
"close your eyes.. i'll make it as quick as possible. it will hurt for a second. i promise"
i shut my eyes and whisper quietly "goodbye"
"goodbye my love" he responded before taking his knife out and hesitantly lifting it up and striking it through my back.
the last thing i saw was the knife landing next to my head and matt falling to the ground.
he had striked himself after stabbing me, right in the heart.
i gasped trying to get air
"i-i..i love you.." he spluttered through the tons of blood pouring from his mouth.
before i could respond everything blacked out
@sturnsfav @lovingmattysposts @hoesformatt @sturniccz @strawberrysturniolo @guccifrog @astrolynnworld @sturnioloslurps @sturniololoverr @daddyslilchickenfingers2
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hailsatanacab · 4 months
Note
Are you still doing the wip ask game? If so, can i ask about number 5?
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I love this one and I'm so embarrassed that it's still a wip oh no!!!! This should have been completed a long time ago to celebrate hitting 1,000 followers but uh... it sorta snowballed into way more than I thought it would and this cute little oneshot is now way more than that. Whoops.
It started as a @stealingyourbones prompt that I added on to, which you can read here! Then I posted a wee little wip wednesday sneak peek, and this snippet (is it still a snippet if it's over 1k words?) carries on from there :)
👻🦇👻
Danny doesn’t join him for what is, unexpectedly, a pretty great meal.
“Holy shit, you guys,” he murmurs, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "You’re missing out.”
“Come on, Jay, it can’t be as good as the Big Bat Deluxe.” Dick whines in his ear. “You love those.”
“No, I love the Red Hot Hood Bites. That’s all I get at Bat Burger, and don’t let me hear you telling the others that I get anything else.”
“Please, Jason, don’t think we don’t have everyone’s BB order on file, who do you think you’re talking to?”
“Fuck off, Timbits. Go eat at Red Robin.”
“Hey, fuck you!”
Jason elects to tune out the ensuing list of threats in favour of finishing his burger. He’s heard them all before and he’s like 80% sure that Tim won’t actually hide his body in a Red Robin—if only because it wouldn’t take the World’s Greatest Detective to figure out who did it and he'd be so deep in the fucking shit that he may as well join Jason.
Aside from the food (seriously, that sauce! He’s going to need to rustle up a copycat or something, he can’t leave here without a recipe), the Nasty Burger is a pretty sad affair.
It’s a little run down, the vinyl covers on the seats peeling and suspiciously sticky, and incredibly quiet. The only other people around are the two teens behind the counter, bored and on their phones, and two kids, probably around Danny’s age, sitting in the corner quietly arguing amongst themselves. There’s an ungodly amount of food in front of them, but only the guy seems to be eating.
Jason sighs and looks at the rapidly cooling Supremely Nasty Meal meant for Danny. Taking a few of the fries won’t hurt, will it?
He peels the paper bag away from the greasy mess and digs in. Huh, they really skimped on his lot, there’s only like half a carton in here.
“So, you gonna bring us back something or are we going to have to starve?”
“Haven’t decided yet.”
“What a shame,” Timbo starts, with a theatrical air, “for I am still trying to decide whether or not to tell you everything I’ve learnt about the Fentons. Perhaps we could come to some sort of arrangement?”
“You finally made yourself useful and got through those firewalls?”
“Yeah, once I managed to get my hands on a native laptop. It’s weird, but whatever was keeping out my tech lets anything bought directly from Amity in. Having such localised security—to the point where even my stuff can’t penetrate?— is beyond strange. I don’t like it.”
Jason leans back, and reaches for Danny’s milkshake, finding it surprisingly light when he lifts it up. Seriously, what is with the half portions here? He turns round and glares at the spotty teen behind the counter, who doesn’t look up from his phone. Whatever. It's not like Danny’s going to drink it anyway.
Looks like the two kids in the corner have made up, if their stifled laughter is anything to go by. Most of their own food is gone now, too, so perhaps the real reason it’s called the Nasty Burger is because they stiff you on the food.
“This place is weird.” says Dick, in a rare case of being right.
“You don’t know the half of it…” Tim sighs but doesn’t offer up anything else.
Jason’s been trying his best to ignore it.
The weirdness, that is.
There’s an electrical charge in the air so strong it almost feels like he’s swimming through static. Each breath makes his steps bounce like he’s walking on the moon. If he turns too quickly, if he stands up too fast, his head spins like he's breathing too much oxygen.
No matter what Tim thinks he knows, it’s not the full weirdness of Amity Park, Jason's sure about that. Being here itches under his skin, and he resolves not to delve any deeper into it. Not with the way the green swims on the edges of his vision. 
The sooner they figure out what’s happening here, the better.
“What’s your price?” 
“Two Supremes and a six pack of Nasty Nuggies. Cake shake with two shots of espresso.”
Jason rolls his eyes as Dick splutters in concern.
“Shake and espresso? Tim, you have a problem.”
“It’s just a frappuccino. There’s no difference.”
“Then get a frappuccino.”
“I want a shake.”
“Then there's a difference! And the difference is that Alfred will kill us for enabling you!”
“As riveting as watching Timberly’s mental and physical wellbeing disappear before our very eyes is, what’s your info?”
“The same for me, please!” Dick butts in, yet again. “Except with a coke instead, because I’m normal.”
Both Tim and Jason snort. 
“Yeah, not gonna touch that. Tim, info, come on.”
“Alright, alright. Hey, so, what’s your favourite thing about being adopted?”
“Tim, I swear to God, if you don’t get to the point right now, I’ll—”
“You’re right! It’s that none of us are actually related to you.”
“And yet somehow, I’m still stuck with you all. Point, Tim, get to it.”
He grabs the burger meant for Danny and begins to unwrap it. If he has to listen to Tim being all smug about whatever he’s found out, he’s doing it with a burger in hand.
“Did you know that Willis Todd’s Great-Great-Great-Great-Great Grandfather was a Nightingale?”
“What’s a Nightingale? Aside from the obvious.”
“A Nightingale is about two generations away from becoming a Fenton.”
“Oh, what the fuck? You cannot be serious!”
“Serious as a cake shake with two espressos in it.”
“No, my… Someone ate my other fucking burger!”
Danny’s burger has a huge, bite-sized chunk taken out of it. Literal teeth marks in the bun. A slice of tomato slops limply onto the table, painting his shirt with splatters of weak tomato juice, the red half moon taunting him. Sauce dribbles out mournfully.
The two kids in the corner are staring openly now, faces red with how hard they’re laughing.
Jason sinks into his chair with a groan.
This fucking town. 
Is this how they treat outsiders? Take bites of their burgers while they laugh on—but then why only do it to his spare and not both meals? The teenagers behind the counter aren't even paying any attention, so why bother pulling a prank like this if you're not going to—
Danny.
Jason whips his head around as if he can catch the invisible little shit, but just like on the street, there's no sign of him.
Has he been here the whole time, invisibly eating the food Jason offered him? Except the packaging was still perfectly wrapped, the sticker still attached, how in the hell had he managed to eat the burger without damaging it? Did he get to it in the kitchen? Or does he—
“Wait, hold up. What the fuck did you just say?”
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alkaline-wtr · 9 months
Text
WE WILL SURVIVE
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- - CHAPTER 1 - -
Ghost x reader Description: Reader runs into a helpful stranger on the road who saves her life. Genre/Warnings: zombie apocalypse AU, Ghost x fem!reader, survivor!reader, angst, gore, violence, explicit language, weapons, mentions of death WC: 1.9k
My Masterlist
**I've been brainstorming for weeks, trying to develop a solid idea for a multi-chapter series to write. I had an old draft of this chapter from another fanfic sitting around for a long time, and I was inspired by the MW3 zombies announcement and decided to mix that with my love for TWD. So, here is the first chapter. I'm incredibly proud of it and have a lot planned for this series. I'm excited to see how this goes. Enjoy.
The gloomy sky matches the empty feeling in your stomach as you drag your feet across the gravel beneath you. Your heavy eyes are trained on the isolated road ahead.
It had been days... almost three at this point. No food. No water. No shelter. You'd been droning on for miles, and your body begged for rest. Wind rustles the branches of the trees beside you, making you jump. Paranoia settles into your sleep-deprived mind. You stop and look over your shoulder as if studying the woods, expecting something to appear.
Your heart sinks in your chest, as you hear a distinct 'click' in your ear. Slowly, you turn your head. A few feet in front of you is a man. In the corner of your eye is the barrel of a gun.
"Let's see those hands."
A masculine voice commanded beside you. The bitter-sweet tone makes you cringe. You slowly raise your hands, watching the man ahead of you.
"What do you wan-"
"Shut up! We are doing all the talking here."
You tense up as a hand tugged at the bag on your shoulders. The familiar sound of a zipper fills the silence and the man with the gun rifles through your belongings. You silently watch the cocky smirk of the man ahead of you.
"Anything good?"
He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. The second man is silent momentarily, still digging through your backpack. Finally, he steps into your line of sight, backing up slowly to join his friend, gun still cocked and aimed your way.
"Nothing."
The men look at you, anger and disappointment clear across their faces.
"Now, what are we to do with you?"
The cocky one says, dropping his folded arms.
"Please, just let me g-"
"I said shut it!"
He snaps. His eyes roll in annoyance as he turns to face his buddy.
"By the looks of her, she won't last more than another day out here alone. Might as well put her out of her misery."
The armed man says, adjusting his aim. You press your lips into a line. Fear fills your stomach as you realize that you're about to die.
The other man shakes his head. Unsatisfied with the suggestion. You watch him pace as he thinks of what to do next.
A gunshot rings through the air. You are frozen with fear, fully anticipating pain to wash over you any second.
The armed man crumples to the ground, blood pooling around his head. His friend looks at you in shock, but you are just as shocked and confused.
His eyes snap away from you as he throws his hands up defensively.
"Woah! Woah! Hey. Look, we can work this out."
He pleads. Another shot rings out, and the man screams, clutching his bloody leg. You turn to look across the road, where a masked man stands. His tall, brooding figure loomed in the distance. You recognize the bottom half of a military uniform, his icy blue eyes narrowing at you. He holds his gun steadily, aiming at the pleading man. Oddly, you feel a sense of relief wash over you as you lock your eyes with his cold gaze.
He stays still a moment longer before walking towards you. His gun remains pointed in the man's direction as he lies on the pavement crying and holding his knee to his chest. You gasp at the sudden tug on your arm.
"Let's go."
He says firmly, pulling you with him back across the road. You are pushed protectively behind the stranger as he crouches down cautiously, swiping the dead man's handgun off the pavement and backing himself in your direction. He stares at the injured stranger the whole way, his intimidating stare never wavering.
Once you are safely on the other side of the road and under the cover of the woods. The man stops in his tracks. He turns you to face him, his hands holding you by the shoulders. He leans down to meet your eyes. His gaze softens to concern as he asks,
"Are you injured? Bit?"
His low, gravelly voice was laced with a thick, foreign accent. You simply shake your head in response, looking over your shoulder. He looks you up and down to confirm you have no apparent wounds before standing back up straight. A strong hand is still planted on your shoulder.
His eyes shift behind the black skull print balaclava toward the crying man on the road. His faint screams echoed within the trees.
"We need to move. Between the gunshots and all this noise, they'll be coming soon."
A hint of annoyance rings through his words. He lets go of you, making his way through the trees. You glance around, worried. The stranger stops and turns back to you.
"You comin'?"
You nod before hesitantly following.
The sun is beginning to set as the stranger drops his bag on the ground and sits comfortably on a tree stump. You look around at the makeshift campsite. A dark-colored sheet is propped up between two trees. A sleeping bag lays neatly beneath it.
You turn back to the man who is searching for his backpack. He pulls out a half-empty water bottle and holds it out to you. You grab it, giving a slight nod of thanks.
"Are you hungry?"
You take a quick drink of water, having to stop yourself from chugging it in your dehydrated state. You cap the bottle and hand it back, replying to his question.
"I haven't been able to find food for a few days."
The stranger pulls his mask over his nose, taking a drink himself. You get a glimpse of his sharp jawline. A blonde stubble was present on his chin. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"What's your name?"
"Y/N."
You reply softly. He gives you a nod before pulling a can out of his bag.
"You like soup?"
The stranger pulls a knife from the holster strapped to his thigh and pries the lid off before passing it to you.
You sit down in the dirt in front of him, keeping a few feet of distance between you.
"Go ahead and have it all. I would heat it up for you, but fire draws too much attention."
"Thank you," you say graciously.
You sip at the cold soup. Careful not to cut your lip on the can's jagged edge. You savor the flavor, feeling a comforting warmth in the achy pit of your stomach.
The stranger sits quietly, turning the knife mindlessly in his hands. You watch him curiously. His eyes darted around.
"You didn't tell me your name."
The stranger's eyes fall to you. His oversized stature seems to tower over you, even sitting down hunched forward over his knees.
"Call me Ghost."
His voice is low. He seemed cautious of you, which was strange considering he was the sizeable scary man in this equation, with much more strength to overpower you if needed.
You continue to sip at the can of soup. By the time you are slurping up the last drops of the savory broth, the sun has set, and darkness has crept through the treetops.
You set the empty can aside, listening to the distant chatter of crickets. Ghost stands up, shuffling around a bit in the dark. He pulls a small flashlight from his bag, the dim blue light guiding him as he moves his backpack closer to the makeshift tent.
"You rest. I'll take watch."
He ends with a soft grunt. You don't speak or move from your spot on the ground. You felt uneasy about sleeping near this stranger. If he wanted to harm you, he would've done so by now. You have to remind yourself.
You weren't so much worried about him hurting you. But what if you woke up and he was gone? The loneliness would kill you if you had to bear it again.
After receiving no response, Ghost lowers the flashlight, aiming it at your shoes.
"What?"
He asks. His brow raised in confusion. You pick yourself reluctantly off the floor, your body aching from the days of walking. Exhaustion seeped into your bones as you dragged your feet through the dirt and leaves below.
Ghost lights your way, your tired body dropping to the sleeping bag with a huff. Ghost clicks the end of the flashlight as you snuggle into the plush nylon. He places the flashlight next to your head.
"Keep that one. Try to reserve the battery."
His voice had a certain softness to it now. It didn't take long for you to feel the heaviness of sleep tugging at your eyelids. Gravity pulls your body to the ground with a force unknown to you, the sleep deprivation overtaking the soreness in your muscles. As you drift into a deep sleep.
You wander aimlessly through the foggy trees. The eerie silence rings in your ears. You can taste the murky air as you breathe deep, trying relentlessly to calm the pounding in your chest. A soft rustling ahead causes the hair on the back of your neck to stand up. You slowly step forward to peer over the bushes. A man kneels beside a woman on the ground. Her wide eyes glazed over and her body, limp and still, save for the occasional jolt from the man.
You hear a faint huff and chatter from him. The crunch of vegetation beneath your shoe alerts him to your presence. A breath is caught in your throat as the man snaps his head to you. The woman's midsection is ripped wide open, her intestines laced through his bony fingers, blood coating his front and dripping from his chin. His bloodshot eyes and gray skin send a shiver down your spine. He snarls, snapping his teeth and crawling in your direction. You scream, terrified as a bloody hand reaches out to you.
Your eyes snap open. The forest around you is engulfed in a warm yellow light. Your breath hitches, and you are met with the cold gaze of the masked man.
You sit up on your elbow. Ghost turns to face you, holding out the empty soup can from the night before. A small fire crackled below him. The bottom of the can is scorched and blackened. You take it, a warmth flowing through your fingertips.
"Tea." He says plainly.
You look into the can. A soft yellow liquid sloshes against the sides. You give a grateful nod, sitting up and crossing your legs in front of you.
Ghost stokes the flame with a stick. His gloved hand gripping another can of tea.
You eye the knife strapped to his thigh. You can't help but wonder how you've faired this long without your own weapon. Ghost's eyes follow yours to the blade. He clears his throat, your attention changing to him.
"If you're planning on trying to kill me. I would advise against it."
You shake your head, pressing the warm can between your palms.
"No. Just thinking."
His brow raises as he stares at you, examining your nervous body language.
"I think we should stick together." You add.
Ghost snorts at the idea, turning his attention back to the fire. You take offense to his reaction.
"You don't agree?"
Ghost doesn't respond. He continues to stoke the fire, the can propped up on a neat pedestal of rocks in the middle.
"Why would you help me if you didn't intend to stick together?"
Anger rises in your voice as you furrow your brow, glaring into the side of his masked face.
"I did you a service. You're fed, hydrated,"
He gestures to the can.
"And rested. Now we can go our separate ways."
You huff out an irritated sigh.
"Please. Please don't leave me on my own. I almost died out there as it is! I don't even have a weapon!"
You exclaim. Your words become more frantic as the desperation seeps in.
"If you leave me out here alone again... you might as well consider me dead."
Ghost's face stays still and emotionless. His eyes are unblinking as he scans your face. You see his shoulders relax, and he closes his eyes.
"Okay."
A wave of relief washes through me.
"We can stick together. But… Only until we find some more supplies. Once you're set-up, you're on your own."
His voice is stern, and his brow lifts almost as if asking if you understand. You nod. It wasn't exactly what you were hoping for. But, for now, at least, it was guaranteed survival.
PART TWO >>
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Hi! I’d like to make a request 😄 I love fics where enemies take care of each other, so how about one where the gender neutral reader/deputy is injured or sick and they show up at John Seed’s ranch. John is surprisingly concerned about them and takes it upon himself to nurse them back to health. Thanks for considering my request!
I am a big fan of these types of fics too! I'm splitting this into parts so I can post some of this finally, thank you for requesting and I hope you like this first part!
Title: Dusk Till Dawn Part One
Warning(s): Descriptions of stitching and cleaning an open wound, canon-typical violence
Words: 8.1k
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The sun was slowly settling behind the trees, tinting the skyline with pinks and oranges as that familiar deep blue bled across the sky in the wake of its absence. John inhaled deeply, the smell of wet earth and the candles he'd lit meeting his nose and filling him with a sense of serenity he hadn't experienced since the reaping began. He had been preoccupied cleaning up after the ever troublesome deputy who seemed insistent on leaving a trail of destruction through his valley; but surprisingly they'd been MIA for a few days now. Something John was almost glad about.
Until his mind got the better of him, that is.
Even now, standing on the back porch of his ranch; sipping idly on a steaming mug of coffee and basking in the changing sky he could feel a trickle of worry on the back of his neck. It was infuriating, being worried about someone who was hellbent on knocking down everything he'd worked for; someone whose stubbornness and unwillingness to listen to his point of view further wedged an invisible barrier between them. He wasn't sure what was worse, the fact that he was worried something had happened to them or the fact that if the roles were reversed they wouldn't lose a wink of sleep over him being gone.
And lose sleep he most definitely had. His eyes droop with the sun as it finally disappears behind the trees, allowing for the moon's soft glow to bathe over the landscape. Each day the deputy was missing was another night John failed to get a full night's rest and it was starting to impair his work. Sighing he mulls over the day and how he'd snapped at a few of his Chosen who were simply doing exactly as he asked—they just happened to be doing it far too loudly and far too close to his open window.
He'd have to apologise, if only for crowd control; it wasn't very unifying for the herald of Holland Valley to be snapping and being irate at project members. Running a hand down his face John heaves out a heavier sigh, this wouldn't be a problem if the deputy was just where they were supposed to be. There were only so many places one could go off the radar in the County, they really couldn't be that far.
Rustling in the bushes pulls John out of his pondering and he feels his spine go rigid, he'd asked for some privacy so all the project members usually stationed at the back of the ranch were at the front and that fact left John a bit more vulnerable than he'd like. He takes a cautious step back, figuring he could probably make it inside before whatever was slinking around in the bushes could reach him. 
But then he catches the sight of familiar eyes, a familiar face covered in blood and dirt stuck in a grimace and he feels his heart stop.
"Deputy."
He mutters the title under his breath, as if trying to assure himself he was really seeing them and not a sleep deprived hallucination. They fall to their knees, one hand clutching their bloodied side as they stare up at him with conflict raging in their eyes. He could tell this wasn't their ideal choice of destination but taking in the state of them, beaten and looking close to death, they obviously didn't have much of a choice.
"John," 
They choke out his name and his blood runs cold from how weak they sound. The deputy always had a tone of confidence, brazen and fiery and doused in a shameful amount of pride; it was jarring to see them like this. That worry that had been fogging John's mind was now an encompassing flurry of panic, his limbs moving before his mind could catch up and he was on his knees beside the deputy in seconds. His tattooed hands flutter about around them for a moment, hesitant to touch them in their fragile state yet desperate to check on their wounds and tend to them.
He doesn't have time to question his own desire to help what some would consider his sworn enemy, as the deputy falls into his chest, their shoulder digging into his sternum and temple resting on his collar bone. The contact urges him to wrap his arms around them and keep them from falling any further. Manoeuvring them to their feet is a struggle, having a near miss of their elbow in his face and a slip of their feet nearly sending them both tumbling down to the ground again. He manages to get their arm around his shoulder and his around their waist, leading them inside as fast as their injured body would allow. 
Each grunt and hiss of pain pricked at John's skin, he found himself wincing as if he were the one injured.
He considered laying them down on the couch but the chance of his chosen walking in and seeing them was too high, so despite their whine of protest he dragged them towards the stairs. They both make it up without falling but the deputy's breathing only grows more ragged as they reach the second floor and John can feel his heart hammering against his ribcage as they stagger onto the balcony. Luckily the stray project members are distracted with each other so he gets the deputy into his room without being spotted and lays them down on his bed as quietly as he can manage. 
They don't say anything as John rushes in and out of his ensuite, a medkit in his hands as he returns to their side. John unbuttons the deputy's shirt hastily and their lack of resistance does nothing to ease his anxiety, the blood staining their stomach and deep gash in their side worsens it even more so. He wasn't a doctor, far from it, but even with his limited knowledge he could gauge it was a pretty serious wound. If they were lucky  there would be no internal damage but that wasn't something John could tell just from looking at it. 
John doesn't waste any time, pouring disinfectant on the wound to clean it; doing everything in his power to ignore the agonised noises that escape the deputy's hoarse throat as he wipes the area clean. This isn't exactly how he'd planned his night to go and he assumed it wasn't in the deputy's planner either. He tried to take in the wounds and assess how they got them, maybe a judge or cougar got a good swipe at them, or a project memeber got them in the midst of a fight. It probably didn't really matter. He could hear the chatter of project members out the front and he prayed the music they were playing would drown out the deputy's rising voice.
"You might not be happy about this deputy but i'm afraid you're going to need stitches, I don't have any—"
"Just—do it," The deputy cuts him off and for a moment he finds himself lost in that flickering fire burning deep in their eyes. Even on the verge of bleeding out in their enemies bed they still managed to be as stubborn as ever. Ready to grit their teeth and bear the pain wrought unto them. John couldn't help but smile; he'd almost forgotten how impressive their grit was. He quickly takes out the needle and sutures from the med kit. The deputy squeezes their eyes shut as he threads the needle, and he watches their body tense as the metal makes contact with their overheated skin.
He tries to be quick while also being as meticulous and careful as humanly possible, each time the needle pierces their skin the deputy writhes under his hands. Seeing their attempts to keep from screaming bloody murder is almost impressive, but he was also worried if they kept tensing their jaw like that it would snap. He didn't really have anything to offer as an alternative however so he just kept his head down and focused on closing up their wound.
Under any other circumstances he'd tell them they'd gotten what they asked for; if you set a house on fire while you're still inside what do expect to happen? But with the blood still gushing out of their wound and coating his hands he simply couldn't find it within him to be any kind of teasing or condescending. It was odd, the tension in his shoulders and hammering of his heart against his ribs. He couldn't quite understand where all this anxiety had come from, or why he was feeling it over the deputy who he'd done his fair share of damage to at the point. Well maybe not drawn any blood as of yet but still.
By the time he's done and cutting the thread the deputy is all but unconscious, eyes fluttering and chest heaving as they try to keep themself from succumbing to the exhaustion and pain anchoring them to John's bed. John watches their face for a moment and stands, wandering back to his ensuite almost robotically to dampen a hand towel. He pauses as he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, his shirt and hands coated in the deputy's blood, hair out of place thanks to their less than graceful journey to his room and eyes shaken and pupils dilated.
What on earth was he doing? Hadn't he been begging for someone to put a bullet in the deputy's head and save him from their ruthless disruption? Maybe he had been, but maybe he had also been hoping they'd come to their senses and come to him under different circumstances. This was less than ideal but still presented an opportunity. Maybe he could work with this—If they could find it within themself not to succumb to death in his bed.
A groan from the bed steals his attention again and he briskly walks back into the bedroom. The deputy watches him weakly as he folds the hand towel and wipes the freshly stitched wound, being careful not to drag too much over the fresh sutures.
"Thank you," 
John's hand stutters for a moment, shocked by the words they just croaked out. They close their eyes and he's not sure if it's because they truly can't keep them open any more or their weak attempt to avoid holding his gaze. Perhaps the genuine expression of gratitude was embarrassing and they didn't want to see the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Either way, he goes back to wiping the blood and grime from their skin and bites back any comments he could make on their docile attitude. He'd rather enjoy the moment while it lasted instead of sour it in any way.
Bandaging their wound is tricky as they seemingly passed out as soon as they closed their eyes but John manages; tying it off and then throwing what he could of the quilt half underneath the deputy over them. It's then that it sinks in that his perfectly well kept bed is drenched in the deputy's blood as well as covered in dirt and who knows what else. He cringes knowing he'll have to throw a majority of it out, blood did not come out of silk easily enough to bother trying to save it. The quilt he would make an attempt on however; when it was free of the deputy's beaten and bruised body of course.
He stands there, looking down at the deputy as their breathing evens out and their expression relaxes. They almost look peaceful and even more vulnerable than they did bleeding out in his bushes. As he himself was coming down from the adrenaline he slowly mulls over what just happened, cleaning up the med kit and disposing of any rubbish he idled around his bed. What should he do now? He could easily have the deputy taken to his bunker, placed in one of the many rooms to await confession. Their current condition might make them more susceptible to talking.
He could alert Joseph, see what he wanted him to do. But John didn't really want to do that—Not yet. He wanted to prove he could break the deputy on his own, get them to see the truth without any intervention.
He runs his eyes over the deputy once more, the menace that had been haunting him day and night without stopping was finally right in front of him. And he didn't feel how he expected too. He felt relieved. Relieved to see they were alive, albeit very badly injured, they were still breathing and he was thankful for it. He couldn't really understand why, or why he was so ready to help them but what is done is done. 
Slowly he walks closer to the bed and sits on the edge of it, tracing over every feature of the deputy's face with his eyes as if trying to find an answer in the curves of their jaw or slopes of their eyelids. He was coming up with nothing, nothing besides his heart picking up a new pattern to beat too. Completely unrelated to being so close to the usually distant and far away time bomb of a human being before him he was sure.
He reaches out and caresses their temple, dragging his thumb down to their cheekbone. Their skin was soft, still ablaze and covered in a layer of sweat and grime, but soft. The last time he'd been this close to them they were tied to a chair in his bunker, being prepared for confession for the first time. He could still remember the look in their eyes as they glowered up at him, gnashing their teeth like a wild animal as he regaled his tale of finding his path to salvation. He wanted to pull from them their own, learn what had broken them and help them put themself back together. They couldn't see it that way, calling him crazy and cursing him to hell at any chance they got.
The memory brings a small frown to John's face and he retracts his hand, instead running it through his hair as he stands and steps away. If he was lucky, the fact they came to him meant something. And maybe they would actually listen to him for once, with the option of fleeing no longer being viable in their current condition. Maybe…
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The next morning John is alerted to the deputy waking by the sound of his bed creaking and their low pained groan that runs along the floorboards. He hurries to finish off what he was doing, tossing the dirty frying pan in the sink and putting the plate of what he would call a successful attempt at eggs benedict on a tray. He hums as he places a glass of juice beside it along with a fork and lastly a napkin.
He decided it best not to give them a knife for the time being, for his own safety. 
It was a spur of the moment decision to make breakfast, John didn't usually cook for himself let alone others but he was feeling particularly chivalrous this morning. And with his surprise guest in the condition they were in he thought it only polite; and perhaps his show of kindness would make them more inclined to follow his lead. Plus showing another side of himself may help the deputy come around to him, there was a disconnevt he was sure was created solely from distance and unfamiliarity. If he could bridge that gap he would get through to them, he knew it.
Climbing up the stairs and heading to his room John carefully nudged the door open with his shoulder, walking in only to be immediately met with a gun pointed at him. His gun to be in fact. Lovely. He forgot to take it from the bedside drawer while they were passed out, good grief he was losing his touch. He'd blame it on the mess of a night, being thrust into playing doctor and lack of sleep had thrown him off his game is all. He would be more careful going forward.
"Good morning deputy, I hope you slept well." He greets, continuing inside as if they weren't pointing his own weapon at his head. If he played it calm and collected surely they'd understand he wasn't a threat to them right now, or at the very least stop pointing his own gun at him. They falter, eyeing him and the tray in his hand. Their brows knit together, clearly suspicious of him, but they lower the gun by a small margin and lean back against the pillows. Their body is still tense and index finger still hooked around the trigger so John keeps his movements slow and careful. The last thing he wanted was to get shot for trying to do a good deed.
"What are you doing?" They ask warily as he sets the tray down on the bedside table, wiping his hands on his jean clad thighs as he steps back. Giving them their space and allowing them to inspect the tray with a distrustful gaze. Like a wolf sniffing at bait in the forest.
"After a person loses that much blood they've usually got quite the appetite, am I wrong?" He asks, tone almost casual as he eyes their bloodied clothes and bruised skin. In the morning light their injuries were much more obvious, aside from the gash he'd stitched up the night before their skin was littered in cuts and the bruises painting their skin could almost mimic a very muddied galaxy. Not to mention the blood and grime covering them from head to toe—they'd most certainly seen better days. 
"You… Didn't cook that, did you?" They ask after a moment of eyeing the plate of what John would personally describe a very delicious looking breakfast. The deputy lowers the gun to their lap and glances at him for confirmation.
"I hardly think you're in the position to be picky about your food deputy, it's not poisoned if that's what you're thinking. I wouldn't let you ruin my sheets just to kill you in the most unsatisfying way I could imagine," John scoffs, somewhat offended they would think he'd do something so plain. He was more creatuve than poison for fucks sake. They roll their eyes gently and push themself up more, tentatively reaching out and grabbing the fork on the tray. They very carefully take a bite, as if one wrong move would leave them choking and fighting for life. All the while they watch John from the corner of their eye as they slowly chew and eventually swallow; his expression remaining pleasant as he watches them. 
It was funny in an odd way, they were behaving like a feral dog brought in from the wild and given food for the first time. He'd be best to keep that thought to himself though, if only to avoid having his gun pointed at him again. He didn't want any holes in his walls or himself for that matter.
"Well look at that, you survived. Not the most awful thing you've tasted, hm?" He asks after a moment and they eye him for a second in silence before nodding begrudgingly.
"No,"
"Good, eat all of it, you need it. I'm sure you'll regale me about how you ended up in my bushes half alive and bleeding out when you're feeling better," He hums, flicking his hand in the air in a dismissive motion as he turns to look out the window.
"I feel fine now," They mutter and John huffs out a short laugh. He highly doubted that.
"Oh is that so? Well by all means you're free to leave, deputy, don't let me stop you," He smiles at them over his shoulder, waving towards the door he came through as they glare at him.
"Really, you'd just let me leave? Just like that?" They ask, distrust clear in their voice.
"Well you may find my chosen a bit hard to walk through outside but I won't alert any of them if you really think you can successfully sneak out in your condition," John smirks, raising a brow as they glance past him to the window. Honestly he'd be interested to see if they could, they'd pulled off seemingly impossible tasks before with much greater risks and disadvantages involved.
"They don't know I'm here?" They ask incredulously, voice hushed now as if they were worried about being overheard. John almost feels embarrassed for a moment, it was definitely a confusing choice not to let his family's followers know he had the catalyst of the apocalypse in his bed  especially when they posed a very real threat to John's life. He'd thought about all of that, he knew there was a chance this could go south and all his hopes were for naught. But he still decides to risk it. There was no success without risks after all.
"No and I assume no one else does either?" He muses, watching as their face morphs through multiple emotions before settling on unease. They had just inadvertently trapped themself with their enemy and despite John's good intentions they weren't privy to his inner monologue and regret danced in their eyes as clear as day.
"This is quite the predicament isn't it deputy? What compelled you to come to my doorstep of all places I wonder," He can't help but taunt, turning back to face them and wandering to the end of the bed with a small smirk on his face.
"I wasn't really thinking straight, blood loss will do that to you," They mutter bitterly, glaring down at the food he'd given them as their shoulders sag slightly. Not from defeat but perhaps a resignation to their current situation. John decides not to poke them any longer, the stress and fatigue woven into their features causing a heavy weight to wash over his chest. He was trying to be civil and amicable and failing miserably. They could go back to their hostile back and forth quipping when they felt better.
"So i've heard—I'll leave you to your breakfast deputy," He utters quickly, ducking his head as he swivels on his heel and makes his way to the door. He can feel their stare burning into the back of his skull like a magnifying glass zoning in on an ant. That was good, in a way, their usual intensity was back which meant they were already much better off than they were last night. Hopefully the food would help and after that he could offer them the antibiotics he'd dug out of his medicine cabinet earlier that morning.
When he returns about ten minutes later the deputy is laying back against the pillows, cradling their stomach with their eyes squeezed shut. John makes sure they hear him coming and their eyes fly open and zero in on him as he approaches. He holds out a glass of water and the antibiotics as they point his gun at his chest, eyes guarded as they frown gently.
"I'll need to move you to another room for a moment, you did make a mess of my bed and I'll need to change it if I plan on sleeping in it anytime soon," He informs them as they push themself up, caustiously sitting on the edge of the bed and taking pills hesitantly, other hand still protective clinging to the gun.
"You're… Letting me stay?"
"Letting is one word for it," John hums, tilting his head to the side as they pop the pills in their mouth and take a sip of the water after taking the glass from him. He was surprised they didn't ask what he was giving them, seeing as they were so on guard.
"Keeping me captive then?" They prod further, eyes glancing up at him and John feels himself get winded for a moment. The food had obviously helped as that fire was starting to dance in their captivating eyes again, the flames cutting through him as they watched him with caution.
"Like I said, you're free to leave as soon as you can do so on your own two feet," John turns his gaze to the empty plate as he speaks, anything to avoid being swallowed by their inferno. Had their eyes always been that distracting?
"Why?"
The question hangs in the air and John furrows his brows in confusion.
"Why what?"
The deputy scoffs and leans back, holding their arms out and nearly spilling the water in their hand.
"You've been hunting me down for months, this is like your big opportunity to squeeze a confession out of me isn't it?" They ask, brows raised incredulously. John mulls over their words for only a second, trying not to let his rush of eagerness show as he nods down at them.
"If you wish to confess I am all ears deputy but, you came to me in your time of need. You could have gone to any of those little heretics you run around with but you came to me; call it what you want but I believe this is a step in a new direction for us," He smiles, placing a hand on his chest as he speaks. He reaches out and places a hesitant hand on their shoulder, their body goes rigid at the touch and they glance from his tattooed hand to his face. But they don't try to move it.
Once again their face twists through different emotions, settling on frustration as they shake their head and heave out a sigh.
"What does that even mean?" They ask, voice strained and tired as they raise a hand to grab his wrist. Their fingers wrapping around him sends jolts of electricity up his arm but he tries to ignore it, clearing his throat and tightening his grip on their ragged shirt.
"It means you will give me your confessions willingly, in time, and until then I will be patient and I will give you your time," John elaborates earnestly, squeezing their shoulder and offering another smile; this one much more giddy. He was so sure he was right, he could feel it deep within him. Just them being here was proof enough for him that they were edging closer to what he was saying. They would come around and see what he'd been trying to tell them, he knew they would. He just had to wait.
The deputy watches his assured expression, takes in his words slowly and removes his hand from their shoulder much to his disappointment.
"You're gonna be waiting a long time," They mutter, not bitterly, not even begrudgingly. They sound unsure, hesitant, and it only makes that spark of hope in his chest grow.
"Then so be it, but I have faith in you deputy; this is proof you have the ability to come around," John retracts his hand, missing the feeling of their skin against his immediately as he drops his hand to his side.
"Whatever makes you happy John—let's just get this over with," They sigh and John takes the glass from their hand. He places it on the bedside table before holding a hand out to them, they look at it like it's an iron rod ready to brand them, but they take it all the same. He eases them up onto their feet, his other hand resting on their abdomen to steady them. He notices they had left the gun on the bed, he chooses not to comment on it lest they reach for it and bring it with them.
John wraps his arm around their waist, just like he did last night; except this time they're fully conscious and not searing hot to the touch. They're skin is still warm and as their arm slings over his shoulder he can now fully appreciate how soft their skin feels against his. Their aroma leaves something to be desired, dried blood and sweat was never a good combination. He'd think about running them a bath once he was done, they were still weak but he knew they'd refuse if he suggested helping them bathe. A pity, he muses for only a moment, side eyeing the deputy's face as they slowly shuffle out the door. 
The deputy cringes as the sun blinds the both of them, and they duck further into John's side as they bow their head to hide from the offensive light. The contact sends shivers up John's spine but once again he tightens his jaw and tries to ignore it. He slowly guides them to the guest bedroom, he sees them glance down at the yard and look back at him with confusion knitted into their expression and he chuckles gently.
"I sent them away, only for an hour. Just enough time to clean up and get you comfortable," He explains easily, opening the door and leading them inside. It was smaller than his room, with a single bed, two bedside tables and a small round table and chair tucked away under the far window. The deputy doesn't comment on what he said, they just nod and let him lead them to the table and chair tucked away in the corner. He helps them into the chair, they grunt with the effort and wrap a protective arm around their stomach as they curl in on themself.
John rests a comforting hand on their back, rubbing gently despite the warning sirens in his head telling him not to be so bold and familiar. They do nothing to stop him so he keeps his hand there. He almost doesn't want to leave, seeing them in such a pitiful state had a foreign feeling flooding his chest and the thought of leaving them made him feel ill. But he also needed somewhere to sleep and the longer he let the blood soak his bed the longer it would take to clean. 
The mattress was going to be a nightmare he realises, perhaps he could get a chosen to clean it. He's sure he could come up with a believable enough story about the blood, one that didn't involve the deputy hunched over in front of him right now.
"I'll be right back, feel free to read any of those books if you get bored," John mutters quietly, motioning lazily to the bookshelf by the table before letting his hand fall from their back.
"Right."
They all but cough the word out, not looking up at him as they glance toward the books. Admittedly they were mostly law books but there were a few others thrown in there, surely something could appease them. If they read, he wondered if they actually liked books. What kind of books did they enjoy if they did, did they prefer fiction? What was their favourite book? Author? John leaves the room with a whirlwind of pointless questions filling his mind, in due time maybe he'd be able to ask them. Maybe they'd answer.
John walks back to his room and frowns at the sight of his bed. Without the deputy there he could see the full extent of the damage, a hauntingly large blood stain clung to the material and he shuddered to think what state the mattress beneath it was in. He looked down at his watch, sighing and rolling up his sleeves. It takes him a few trips to get all the bedding to the laundry and a few times he almost trips down the stairs but he manages to get the bed stripped. And lo and behold, the mattress looks like a murder scene. 
He does his best to scrub the top layer of blood off of the material before dousing it in disinfectant and laundry detergent—surely that would do something? It would be enough for now before he decided on what poor soul was going to clean this for him. He might need a new mattress, not that it would be easy to find a queen sized mattress laying around at the moment. He runs a raw hand through his hair, he'd worry about that later, right now he had a guest waiting for him in the room over.
He steps out onto the balcony, breathing in the fresh air deeply and allowing it to wash out the strong smell of chemicals. He stands outside his door for a moment, running his blue eyes along the landscape and taking in the mountains in the distance. He wondered if the deputy ever stopped to appreciate the scenery, with how much they ran around the county he could only imagine they had to stop every now and then to at least catch their breath.
He turns and steps toward the guest bedroom door, twisting the knob and nudging the door open slowly. The deputy's eyes are on him immediately and John smiles at the sight of an open book in front of them on the small table.
"You took your time," They say quietly after a moment of the both of them staring off silently, turning their gaze back to the book. John scoffs gently and steps further into the room, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the doorframe.
"Well deputy, I don't know if you know this but you bleed quite a lot and blood stains are not that easy to remove," He says, watching as the deputy shoots him an unimpressed look.
"Oh I'm so sorry, I'll try to bleed less next time." They say, the sarcasm dripping from their words an absolute delight to hear and John can't help but grin.
"That would be greatly appreciated thank you," He teases, grin widening as they roll their eyes at him. It felt so—friendly—normal. It felt good. Talking with them like this, like they were friends and not enemies—it felt right. Like it's how they were meant to be. A small ache echoes in the hollow of John's chest as he remembers that's not what they were, not yet at least. 
"Do you have a shower in that fancy ensuite of yours?" The deputy pulls him away from the nagging thought and he nods in response to their questioning gaze.
"I do but I believe a bath would be better suited considering…" John trails off, waving his hand in a sweeping motion over the deputy's form, still very battered and bruised. And very dirty. 
"I think i'll manage," They press their lips into a firm line as they decline his suggestion and he shrugs gently.
"Alright deputy have it your way, if you need my help—"
"I won't." 
Their words are firm. They sting a bit and John has to swallow the spark of annoyance it causes. It's not like he was helping them already or anything, no, patching them up, letting them sleep in his bed and making them breakfast couldn't possibly count as that. He bites his tongue, something he seemed to be doing quite a lot. He'd have to tread carefully lest all his unsaid comments accumulated and burst out in a fit of frustration. Not that his dear deputy was going to make that an easy task.
It would be worth it, just a bit longer, he could do it.
"Then I suppose you can hobble to the ensuite yourself hm?" 
He could be a small bit petty as compensation, it was only fair. 
The look of irritation that flashes across the deputy's face is rewarding to say the least. But then they're standing, holding themself up on the table and staring him down with that steely determination in their eyes. John watches as they stagger towards him, their legs almost giving out halfway across the floor and face twisted into a look of pain as they pass the bed.
Forever impressing him with their mere grit they stop in front of him, breath ragged from the effort of dragging their body across the room. John drags his gaze from their booted feet to their face and he smiles, reaching behind him and pulling the door open for them.
"You are something else deputy," He muses, stepping out and holding the door open for them. They grip the doorframe and stagger past him, grunting with the effort. They steady themself on the railing of the balcony and John glides to his door, swinging it open and keeping his eyes trained on the deputy as they hobble in his direction. It was cute, in a weird way, like watching a fawn take its first steps. A very angry, stubborn fawn glaring at him like he was forcing them to walk on their own. He would help but they would have to ask first. Nicely.
They make it into his room and pause by the doorway as their leg almost gives out again. This time John catches them by the elbow, they lean into his side as he guides them back up and despite himself he wraps one arm around their waist again. He'd love the satisfaction of having them ask for his help but he knows that won't happen and they'll just end up standing in the doorway all day. They don't utter a single word as he helps them the rest of the way to the ensuite. He could rub in the fact they do need his help but then they would no doubt become twice as difficult and he'd rather avoid that. 
Plus, it was much sweeter to bask in their semi-defeated silence. 
John lets them go and they lean against the sink, their scrutinising gaze running along the tiled walls before landing on him through the mirror. 
"Think I got from here," The mutter, eyes fluttering down to the sink. John nods but doesn't move, eyes transfixed on the way their eyelashes fan over the top of their frike covered cheeks. They look criminally soft, even from a distance. The deputy glances back up and he straightens up abruptly, inhaling sharply and turning with another small nod.
"Alright—Well if you need anything i'll be right outside,"
"Comforting,"
John shuts the door behind him as he leaves, rolling his eyes and letting his hand fall to his side. It would be comforting if they had more faith in him. He wasn't an animal, he wasn't going to attack them while they were already down. Not only would it not be rewarding it would go against all the work he'd done trying to get them to break their icy walls. He hears shuffling behind the wooden door, no doubt the deputy undressing and he feels a mismatch of feelings stir within him at the thought. His enemy was getting undressed in his bathroom and was about to use his shower. 
A stray thought of them falling and needing him to rush in and help ran across his mind and he swatted away as quickly as it came. 
He listens to the sound of the running water with a frown etched onto his face. He runs his thumb along his bottom lip as he stands there lost in thought, the project members and his chosen would be back in thirty or so minutes and he had until then to make up his mind about what he was really doing here.
While the deputy had done everything in their power thus far to blow his plans up into smoke they did provide a challenge he hadn't faced before. A challenge he wanted to win. He was sure he could get away with having them here for a week without any problems, if they decided to stay that long anyway. And if anything it would be beneficial to the project, they were the main cause of disruption thus far and having them out of the picture would make room for repairs and getting back on track.
If anyone found out the deputy was here, he could explain it that way and he was sure no one would question him. He could also take this time to try and ease them into their atonement, maybe having a moment of rest would let them see some reason. It would probably be easier to hold conversation now that they couldn't really run away or shut off their radio and ignore him.
Yes. Alright. There it was then, he'd made up his mind.
"John,"
He jumps at the deputy's voice through the door. Fuck, he hadn't honestly stood their that long had he? He hadn't gotten lost in his thoughts like this for a long time. He hears them repeat his name again and for a moment he considers staying silent just so he can hear it roll off their tongue one more time—but he decides against it.
"Yes deputy?" He clears his throat and answers as evenly as he can.
"Kinda gonna need some clothes," 
Ah right. Of all the things to forget.
"Right, One moment," He walks over to his dresser, picking out a shirt and sweatpants and placing them on the edge of the bed. He steps back, running his hands down his jeans as he glances at the bathroom door.
"I'll leave them here on the edge of the bed, unless you'd like some help?" He calls through the door, tacking on the suggestion as an innocent after thought. He had no ulterior motives in mind whatsoever, he was just being helpful. In their state they might struggle to change, it would be practical to have him assist.
"I'll pass, thanks," The deputy replies dryly and John chuckles, he expected nothing less.
"Well I'll be right outside if you change your mind." He calls out, making his way out the door and closing it loud enough so the deputy could hear it. 
He pauses outside the door and then takes a seat on one of the chairs by the window, clasping his hands together and running his thumb over his knuckle. Faintly he hears the ensuite door open and the deputy stagger out. A decade ago he might have turned and snuck a peek through the tinted glass, but he hadn't been that man in a long time and he kept his gaze on the road and trees in front of him. The windows were tinted anyway, he wouldn't see more than a hunched over, struggling blob micmiking a vague human shape.
Minutes tick by and John listens to the sound of the deputy struggling, it was amusing to say the least. Their annoyed grunts and curses barely make it through the thick wooden walls and to his ears. When the ruckus stops he stands, flipping his wrist over and checking the time with mild disinterest. A small part of him considered making a call and telling his chosen to stay gone for the rest of the day, but then the deputy might very well sneak out and run off into the wilderness once again. Despite their hesitancy beforehand John wasn't fully confident in their ability to stay put, they were stubborn and if he poked and prodded just an inch too far they'd crawl out of his ranch and right into a ditch.
And if that happened who would be to blame? Themself obviously—but others would no doubt put the blame on John. Joseph wouldn't be happy that he was certain of. The thought makes an unpleasant feeling curl around John's throat and he rubs at it as if to alleviate the phantom feeling. He'd just have to make sure the deputy was fully healed before they left, that way no one could point the finger in his direction if they succumbed to deaths embrace.
"Are you still out there?"
At the deputy's question John steps back to the door. His hand hovers over the doorknob and he turns it slowly, allowing the deputy time to react before he pulls it open and steps inside. They sat on the edge of the bed, glaring at him and adorning his clothes. He feels a lump in his throat at the sight, the fabric that usually draped over his skin on slow Saturdays now fell over theirs—it looked so natural. Like they were meant to wear his clothes, sit in his bed, watch him with that calculating glare.
"So now what?" They snap him back to reality and he rips his gaze back up to their eyes, they looked much livelier after the shower. Much more themselves now all the grime and blood was gone.
"Hm? Well rest is about the only thing you can do, in this state." He muses with the smallest shrug of his left shoulder.
"For how long?" The gawk, shoulders tense as they straighten their back.
"Well given the state of your wound I'd say a few days—"
"Days? Here? With you?" The deputy almost barks and John purses his lips into a straight line. He tries not to take offence, even though the horror on their face was anything but flattering. They could show a tad more appreciation for his willingness to let them stay, after everything they'd done and all he'd selflessly forgiven. He was being more than accommodating.
"Yes, with me, is that so terrible? I think you'll find when you're not raging your warpath and fighting me I'm quite pleasant company." He smiles, as if to convince them of his words. They give him a blank stare in return and it takes everything in John not to scowl.
"Right, I'll believe that when I see it."
A challenge. 
Simple, easy. John had wonderful table manners and his conversational prowess was unrivalled, as long as his companion was willing to be cooperative. 
"Trust me, by the time you're back on your feet you'll barely want to leave. I doubt Miss Fairgrave offers breakfast in bed after all." John hums, clapping his hands together and tilting his head as the deputy rolls their eyes and turns away from him. They drag their eyes over the expanse of his room and for a moment John does the same, checking the state of it and assuring himself it was more than presentable. Not a thing out of place after the thorough clean of the bed.
"Nah, but she's got whiskey." The Deputy shoots back, turning with a smug smile sneaking onto their face. It's quite a sight, one that gives John another pause. If he wasn't mistaken, that was the first time he'd seen the deputy smile.
"No whiskey, i'm afraid, but I do have scotch or wine." At his words the deputy's eyebrows shoot up almost comically.
"I thought you weren't allowed to drink?" They inquire, tone puzzled as they look at him with curious eyes.
"It's solely for special occasions." John said with a dismissive wave of his hand. Special occasions or lonely nights where he stayed up too long, a small indulgence no one needed to know about.
"And this is a special occasion?"
"Yes. Very." If only they knew. This was his chance. Both of their chances to prove something to Joseph, to get that golden ticket into Eden. A few days were more than enough for John to get them to understand what he'd been trying to tell them, if he gave them a behind the scenes view of what he did for the project they'd understand how he could help them. He was sure of it.
"Perhaps you'd like to tell me what happened over a glass?" John suggests, stepping forward and noting how the deputy didn't recoil or glare at him as he approached. Their gaze shifts to the floor and then to his now outstretched hand, hope bubbles along John's finger tips as he watches them like a hawk watching it's prey. Finally, after a moment of hesitation they take his hand. Their hand is warm, soft from the shower and their skin glides against his hypnotically. 
He tries to ignore the fire set by their touch and helps them to their feet once more. The time much slower as he slides his arm around their waist and taking his time to guide them to the door. He wanted to savour the feeling dancing through him, the glee clouding his thoughts. This was progress. This was good.
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kiyoomology · 2 years
Note
would it be fair to request a sequel for in another life (god this concept is so brilliant it needs its own book)
in another life (part two) ☆ ben hargreeves
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genre: semi-angst to fluff warnings: mentions of past fights summary: after reuniting with ben, you two work out the issues that have been burdening you since you lost each other. notes: it's the long awaited part two! if you haven't read part one, you can find it here :)
"they're all dickheads." diego chimed in, five cutting in and saying something about a throat punch, but you weren't listening.
you were dragged out of the academy by klaus, looking over your shoulder to find ben looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face.
"yeah, well, ben is still the same in some ways." klaus said, and you felt all of the siblings' eyes shift to you.
"he still seems like an asshole." you replied quietly, shrinking under their gazes.
"maybe you're our in." diego said, and the attention shifted to him and he launched into a spiel about a lengthy plan of you going back to the sparrow academy and begging for ben to take you back so that the umbrellas could infiltrate their previous home.
"i'm not going to use ben like that." you protested, seeing the obvious irritation on diego's face.
"but he's not our ben. he's stuck up, he's rude, he's a dickhead-"
"okay, that's enough. we should find somewhere to stay." viktor cut in, and you were thankful for his words.
you trailed behind the siblings, feeling like the odd one out now more than ever. even if they didn't say it, the looks they gave you when you refused to carry out diego's plan were enough of an indicator to their disdain.
as you walked, you noticed that an increasing number of crows were circling overhead.
nervousness crept into your veins as you remembered fei, their number three, and their crows that had attacked you, allison, and luther.
you tried to tell yourself that it was just a coincidence, but as the crows began to make their way towards you, you realized they were there for you.
"i don't want any trouble." you spoke, putting your hands up in surrender as one of the birds landed at your feet.
"then we won't give you any."
you whirled around at the familiar voice, stomach dropping into your shoes as ben, fei, and sloane came to a stop in front of you.
"what do you want? i promise i'm not going to try to fight you or anything, i just want to take a nap." you mumbled wearily as the three shared a look, one that you didn't understand.
"you can take a nap at the sparrow academy." sloane said cheerily, and you quirked an eyebrow.
"i really should get going, my friends are-"
"nowhere to be seen." fei cut in, and you turned back around to see their figures far off in the distance.
fuck.
"why do you want me to go with you?" you asked, wrapping your arms around yourself as you waited expectantly for an answer.
"i think you and i need to have a long overdue conversation." ben replied after a beat of silence, staring at you in complete seriousness.
you weighed your options. considering the siblings hadn't questioned where you were and come looking for you, you were probably on your own.
but did you want to go back to the sparrow academy with seven people who could easily hand your ass to you again?
"fine. i'll go back with you."
the drive to the academy was short, but you didn't even notice.
all of the emotions that you had buried when ben died were coming back to haunt you. here he was, in the flesh, ushering you into his house with his hand on the small of your back like no time had passed at all.
"i'll take you to the medical wing so you can get patched up." he said, and you mumbled something back in acknowledgement.
your body felt heavy as you sat on the examination table, the sound of ben rustling through medicine cabinets filling the air.
the two of you said nothing as he began to clean the dried blood from your face, injuries from the fight with lila in the sixties as well as the one mere moments ago with the sparrows.
"how did i die in this timeline?" you broke the silence, noticing that ben halted his movements in cleaning a cut on your neck.
"how did i die in your timeline?" he asked, and you shook your head.
"i asked first." you shot back, feeling dread settle in your stomach as ben dropped the rag he was working with, rubbing a hand over his face.
"you...were taken. taken hostage, by a villain." he said, and you had to bite back a snarky remark about how that sounded like the plot of a shitty superhero movie. "we couldn't save you."
you processed his words, them meaning little to you. i mean, you were fine, right? there was still a lot to unpack from the sixties that you would probably have to think about at some point, but in the current moment, you weren't dead and there wasn't impending doom anymore.
"what about me?" ben asked, breaking the thoughts that were racing in your mind.
"nobody has ever told me the full story, or what exactly happened. i just know you died on a mission, when we were sixteen." you explained quickly, feeling a familiar lump form in your throat.
"when we were sixteen?" he asked softly, and you nodded, moving over a bit so that ben could sit next to you.
"am i different than your ben?" he asked, voice so weak you could've sobbed.
you wanted to scream that yes, he was different than your ben, that your ben was kind, sweet, caring, and so loving, and he was always by your side with a joke when you were sad, or a kiss to the temple when you were stressed-
"kind of. my ben... he was the best part of growing up." is what you settled on finally, feeling the man next to you tense his shoulders.
"could i- could i ever be him?" he asked, and your brows furrowed. you turned to face him fully, and he reciprocated your movements.
"you are him. the same dna, the same face, whatever." you urged, studying his face intently.
"okay, well if i am the same, where does this leave us? what are we?"
his words echoed in your mind, and you opened and closed your mouth.
"do you still love me?" you breathed out, feeling lightheaded as ben stared at you, gently taking your hand in his.
"i still love you." he confirmed, a sad smile finding its way to his lips. "do you still love me?"
you could only nod, verbal confirmation lodging itself in your throat.
"then i guess that settles it." he said, and you let out a small laugh at his awkwardness. it reminded you of your ben.
but now, this ben, sparrow ben, was your ben.
"i'm glad to have you back." you said softly, shifting so that your head rested on his shoulder, hands still laced together.
"me too." he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. the action was so gentle that a single tear slid down your cheek, dripping onto your arm.
"ben, can you promise me one thing?"
"of course."
"never let me go."
"i wouldn't dream of it."
945 notes · View notes
gingerlurk · 3 months
Text
Lovers' Crest | Chapter 18: The Assassin
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Din Djarin x f!Reader
Masterlist
As the eve of battle approaches, strange alliances are formed and you acquire something new.
Word count: 2.8k
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, slow burn, non-canon (the Razor Crest never gets destroyed, it also gets upgraded with a cabin), post season 3, canon characters present, ANGST, I'm sorry, yearning, feelings of jealousy, Din speaks!
A/N: A short chapter. The next one is a biggun though. Thanks for reading!
--
Crawling across this coarse sand is something you could do without, but hell if you would dare refuse the Armourer her various missions and requests.
Shoving one elbow over the other, you scoot up until you can peer over the bluff. You spot them. A helmed figure all in black, belly down and training a hyper powered scope across the encampment’s lines.
A fucking sniper? You don’t pause, but shimmy across the edge and rustle toward the threat. When you come to be directly above them, you contemplate your move. Cock this up and they could get a shot off, and you have no idea what they might be aiming at. The action you decide to go with is risky but you don’t think you can get them away from the rifle by any other means. 
So without thinking about it too much more, you grip a chunk of rock for purchase and leap down, landing with feet on either side of their knees. You lock your own to their ribs. Lunging forward and hooking your arms under each armpit, you jerk them bodily sideways, lifting them off the weapon and taking you both into a dusty tumble.
You’re about to get them pinned down when the sniper breaks your knee lock with an athletic flip. You give a cry of alarm as you’re hurled upside down for a second before being dumped on the ground at your opponent’s head, who twists around and goes to reciprocate your attack with an elbow hold. You slip the move and once again try to get your knees in to pin them.
The two of you struggle in the dirt, neither one getting an upper hand.
You jam rigid fingers into a shoulder joint, then try to get the arm secured behind them. They grunt but manage to convert your grip on you and your upper arm is being painfully held in a vice-like lock. Your unbound arm braces to throw this assailant off of you. Fuck this, you think, time for--
‘Fennec! Stand down!’ His command freezes you both mid-grapple. You look over your shoulder and see him standing on the ridge above you. Your heart stutters. ‘She’s not—’ Din calls, hesitates and sighs. He waves toward you, ‘She’s an ally of… of the Armourer.’
The grip on your bicep releases and you drop your hands, trying to scramble to stand with as much dignity as possible. Your opponent hadn’t managed to land any serious blows, but the wind’s been knocked right out of you anyway. You work to not collapse. The first time you’ve heard his voice in months and… She’s an ally… of the Armourer.  
‘Sorry about that,’ the person next to you – Fennec – turns to collect her rifle. You take the beat it affords to huff deep breathes and plant your hands on your knees for a second, straightening before she turns back. ‘Didn’t realise there was another body in play. Din Djarin has asked me to scope the perimeter, watch for scouts.’ She stands squarely in front of you, offers a hand. ‘Fennec Shand.’
You take her forearm in a shake, give your name. ‘Same here. I mean, neither did I. And I am, an ally I mean. Am out on business for the Armourer right now actually…’ You’re babbling. You glance back up to the ridge – Din hasn’t made any moves to approach the two of you. ‘Seems like we need to improve our lines of communication,’ you say loudly, watching him.
‘Mm,’ Fennec says. You look back to her. She pulls off her helmet and you take in the dark features and stern expression of the only other human face you’ve seen in weeks. ‘What business?’
‘Uh, also… looking and… s- scouting…’ you say lamely. 
She lifts her chin at you, assessing. Then, ‘Well we can divide territory, cover more ground? Does that sound good?’
You nod, gaining some composure. ‘Sounds good. I’m most familiar with the chordal coast and the eastern plane.’
‘Good,’ she says. ‘I’ll take the rest. Watch your back.’ She pivots 180 and strides off.
Standing alone again, you look back to the ridge. Din is gone.
They gather around the table dancing with data and shifting troop positions. The air is stuffy and the room dim, a crack in the rock above letting in a single shard of white light in which specks of dust swim back and forth.
You take a deep breath, willing your nerves and doubts to the side before explaining how the gigantic imperial walker is going to help your side’s battle efforts.
‘It’s too powerful and too valuable to just destroy outright,’ you’re saying, taking in the deeply engaged helms of almost everyone in the place. The only one not looking at you head on is the only one you want to see. Din’s head is twisted to the side, as is his body. Your understanding was that Ari Wren had summoned everyone here specifically, key personnel in the approaching fight. 
So he’s here. In the same space as you for the first time in weeks and denying you any attention as you describe how you’ll risk your life to defend his clan.
‘I’ll need a partner,’ you say, trying so hard not to look at him. ‘Someone who can get me up there and be able to manoeuvre around the undercarriage.’
You’re floored to see several hands raised. Numerous Mandalorians stepping up to work with you.
Not Din though, whose shoulders hunch and put a deep wall between you.
‘I will take you,’ Wren says with finality. ‘You will stick close by me in the battle and we will action your plan when it is here-’ she indicates a point on the map.
‘Oh-okay,’ you murmur. ‘It’s a plan.’
It’s all nods and affirmative gestures around the table. You move on to point out some spots where you’ll prepare mines to lay down on the perimeter, get assigned a few individuals to accompany you. Eventually you peter out and go quiet.
‘Anything else?’ Wren asks. You shake your head. ‘Good. Report to the armoury for equipment assignment. If you need training, let me know.’
Dismissed, you start to move out of the room.
‘Din Djarin,’ Wren says behind you, just as you’re moving out of earshot. ‘Will you take everyone else through the troop formations you and I have been discussing?’
Some sharp pang spurs your footsteps on and you hear nothing more. Nope, don’t think about it, you urge yourself as you stalk toward the assigned location. Do. Not. Think. About. It.
You think about it the whole way. It’s only when you emerge into the armoury, which bristles with stacks on stacks of a dazzling array of tools to kill, that your mind finally goes blank. You freeze in your tracks and wonder what the fuck to do.
Then you spot her.
Fennec Shand is standing by a rack of increasingly elaborate looking long rifles, holding one to an eye and observing the trigger action. She seems totally engrossed and like she hasn’t noticed you bumble in. But then she speaks up.
‘I’ve been waiting for you,’ she calls across the space, in a voice so assured your feet start moving before your thoughts do. She puts down the sniper rifle. ‘I have something you may be interested in.’
You stay mute, come to stand with an awkward swinging of hands just shy of her. She eyes you over, toe to head, peers at you with curiosity. 
‘Are you trained in any staff or pole-based combat?’ she asks. The question is so left field, words stick in your throat for a moment. 
But you mentally shake yourself and answer. ‘Uh, s- some, yeah,’ you stutter. ‘Some staff techniques. But, uh, it’s just been awhile. I’m more used to just hand-to-hand…’
‘Mm,’ she replies. ‘Double-headed techniques?’
‘Uh, sure…’ What--?
She spins on the spot and heads down a row of weaponry, gesturing at you to follow.
From a small bank of two-handed weapons, she lifts a mean-as-hell looking gaffi stick. A long, thick staff. One end curves to hold a vicious spiked bludgeon; the other is fashioned into a winged barb. It has a blooded and intimidating conveyance of murder. Shand holds it out to you.
‘Think you can fight with this?’ she says.
‘Where did--?’
‘Donated to the cause,’ she says, shrugs. ‘By a friend.’
Okay, fine…
You step forward and hold out your hands. She draws the weapon level and drops it into your palms. You’re so grateful you don’t fumble or struggle with it – it lands heavy but with a balance that spurs your reflexes to give it a half twirl and bring it aligned with your body. It’s a good height, hefty but ergonomic.
‘Thought you could make use of it,’ Fennec says, a wry smile.
‘Sure,’ you say, yet again. ‘With some practice.’
She nods in appreciation, like she was hoping you’d say exactly that.
‘Then come with me.’
She grabs a smaller, chunkier pole and leads you to the opposite end of the armoury, which you’re amazed to see opens into a sizable training ground.
It’s not surprising you’ve not been back here. Though you’d been permitted some liberties in this place, you’re well aware certain things have been off-limits. Apparently not anymore.
Fennec strides to a spot that allows plenty of room to move and then settles into a readying stance, raising only an eyebrow.
After a beat of hesitation, then one more just for the embarrassment, you manage a cooling breath in, then out, and move into a wary circle with her. 
She reads your face, moves when you move. You draw the savage pole around to hold one end tightly in a fist and slant the rest across a raised elbow.
Unsure how to start, you try a basic cross swing, meeting her parry and converting the movement into a pitch downwards. The edge just glides over her forearm as she twists away.
‘Good!’ she says.
Another motion, you tap the bashing end on the ground and with the momentum make to sweep her legs with it. She backflips over your pull but, as she’s righting herself, the winged end is coming down across the back of her neck. She senses it, twists at the waist and brings her small staff up to block and shove it away. 
After a few more moves you step back, huffing a little.
‘You’re quick,’ you say. 
‘That’s fortunate,’ she replies. ‘You’re a natural with that.’
The smile slips onto your face before you even think about, the usual twinge of sadness that bites at your every emotion scarcely present for a moment. It is genuine and glad for the first time in… gods, how long? Not since…
The sound of heavy footsteps startles you as someone strides into the arena. As the new arrival moves closer, your expression turns to wide-eyed apprehension. You think you recognise that even, sure gait.
You turn and your anxiety is confirmed when Ari Wren comes to stand a few metres away holding weapons of her own - a long blade and an ornate shield. Fennec nods in greeting and you stand there like a lemon, gripping your stick and fidgeting with it. 
‘Ah, good,’ she says by way of hello. ‘Shand thought you may be a good hand with that item.’
Ah fuck she’s talking to you, you think. Say something now, please.
‘I appreciate the… allowance,’ you say. That sounded… okay?
She just nods.
‘Do not let me interrupt,’ she continues. ‘I have practice of my own to do. I will not take up much space.’
Fennec tips her head, ‘Alone today?’
‘Indeed.'
'Your usual sparring partner not joining you?'
Wren shakes her head. 'He was. But Din Djarin seemed to have other duties to attend to on this occasion.’
Your lead weight of a heart drops into your stomach, cold and nauseating. Willing the treacherous thing back into your chest, you turn to Fennec and make a motion to continue; she doesn’t make you hover and readies once again.
As you move and twist and test the scope of the weapon, you take sparing glances at Wren, who is making a ceremony of various battle stances. Broad and strong, and so sure with the blade and shield, she’s impressive.
There’s more important things you should be considering right now, you know this. Like how Fennec Shand, decidedly not Mandalorian, can just be here, handling their weapons and wandering the Covert like a family member. Like what the Armourer had said to you about ‘things having changed here’. 
Like why you’ve committed yourself to such risky and dangerous plans in order to take part in this looming battle.  
But all you can think about is what Ari Wren is to Din.
Before you can even contemplate stopping yourself, you’re asking questions.
‘So, uh, Wren…’ you start, throwing the words over your shoulder so she hears you. ‘You and Din work well together?’
‘He is a sound strategist,’ she says, moving with fluid grace from one stance to another. ‘And has valuable insight into the imps’ tactics.’
‘Uh huh,’ you mutter, trying out a few flows of your own, long-ago lessons seeping back into muscle memory. Fennec continues to meet each thrust and counter you present to her, but she’s clearly paying attention to your conversation as well. ‘And you spar together too, usually?’ 
‘Often yes,’ Wren says easily. You bite back bile. ‘He pairs well with most of our Covert for training. And is always willing to meet for a match with anyone. Usually.’
‘Right…’
Fennec is giving you so much side-eye you actually manage to land a blow, clipping the leather armour of her torso. But her sly smirk doesn’t shift one bit. She shakes it off and straightens, signalling a pause to your little exercise. 
‘So, what do you think?’ she asks, gesturing at your gifted weapon.
You nod in satisfaction. ‘S’good, well balanced. I like it.’
‘Think you’ll be able to take on their storm troopers with it?’ 
‘Well,’ you wipe sweat from your brow, give the gaffi stick a heft and a twist. ‘Like I said, you’re fast enough. But,’ another, unbidden grin pulls at the corners of your mouth. ‘They, usually, are not.’
She grins back.
A hot breeze pearls sweat on the skin you have exposed to the humid evening air. It’s a little uncomfortable, but you’re still glad for electing to take in your practice time out in the open. It had come to feel too on edge in the cavernous training space, increasingly busy as the eve of battle approached.
You’re not worried about being discovered by unwanted prying eyes. The patch of earth where you’ve staked your claim is just a little ways from the mouth of the Covert’s primary cave network. A high, crescent ridge gives cover to eighty percent of the surrounding terrain. The only exposure is to the south, where the elevation affords a dazzling view of a dark, shifting sea.
You complete one full run through of a wave form with your staff, before pausing to flex and test the range of motion in your new leathers again. It had been a surprise when a Mando craftsman had presented them to you. ‘On orders from the Armourer,’ he’d explained in a gruff tone. 
Similar to Fennec’s fit-out, but even more lightweight and modular, the garments fit you like a glove. You could move about in them with ease, the only rigid aspect being something hard and moulded laid under the shoulder pieces, stitched securely into the firm leather.
The coolest thing about the attire was you could add and remove parts to suit your attack or defence needs. Like now, when you’ve stripped the sleeves and greaves and are shifting across the dusty ground barefoot.
A step here, a lunge here. Bring the weapon around in an angry slash. You feel strong and sure, letting yourself get lost in a violent dance.
It’s when you orient the gaffi stick again to ready a chain combination that you sense eyes on you. You look around, but see no one other than the sentinels on the ridge – looking outwards. You glance back into the opening of the cave. It’s angled such that it drinks in light almost the moment its opening is breached, so it looks pitch black on approach but anyone could stand just within and see clearly out without being seen themselves.
Just as you lock eyes on the darkness, a sudden movement and the slightest glint of reflected light on steel convinces you someone had been doing just that.
But the opportunity to scrutinise that more closely vanishes when the unmistakable sound of inbound craft finds your ears. Fearful for a moment, you whirl to spot a guard making signals that their orbit patrol has returned.
Early. The orbit patrol has returned early.
You look out to the sea-soaked horizon and spy them. All three ships on a rapid approach. The warm evening air feels like a cruel slick of ice down your spine.
Because this only means one thing. 
They’ve arrived.
The enemy is here.
--
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sensei-venus · 11 months
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I have been unable to stop thinking about single dad!Hawk with a cute baby boy meeting single mom!Reader who has a cute baby girl for the last day or so I can't even remember.
Like, Idk how or where they meet each other, but I think that they start off as like young single parents who are literally just friends who support each other in that way that only the two of them understand. They have play dates together and let their babies be friends. They go out to eat together or just go on walks pushing the babies in their strollers.
Over time they start falling for each other but since their latest breakups with their babies other parent, they're both scared to commit to anything other than their kids but realize that Mayne if it's with each other, who gets it, who also has a kid, then maybe it can work.
It's just taking over my mind and I'm just obsessed 😭😭
- gemini sensei
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@gemini-sensei I kinda have a idea for a small imagine/fic for this.
But I can see them being so chte with each other as they try to figure out what they are.
When they first met it's just a random little meeting. Maybe they are at the park, both of their baby's are able to crawl around, barely even trying to walk yet. Reader is reading a book while her little girl is babbling and moving around. She recently learned ri sit up by herself so when Reader here's her little grunt she just thinks she's trying to get herself up. Suddenly their is rustling from beside her which is definitely not from her little girl. Her eyes widen as she finds a baby not much older then hers now in front of her daughter. It's a little boy from the guess as he has on a little pair of overalls with a little dinosaur om the front and “ Phoenix ” written in cursive underneath it.
He's wobbling around, clearly very very new to walking. He plops down with his hands, sitting next to her daughter. Within seconds they are talking to each other in babble and giggles. Reader looks around for a moment setting her book to the side. Clearly someone was missing their baby.
It was like or was on cue of her thinking this because a second later a loud yell filled the park.
“Phoenix! You can't- crawl off like that buddy! You had me scared!”
A boy her age comes running from a little ways away, a diaper bag on one shoulder and a small blanket under his arm. He huffs a little as he finally joggs his way over and schoops up the boy. He squeals in delight at the boy making her giggle just a little bit, her daughters eyes wonder to where her new friend has gone to. Her head bobs as she tries to stay up right in her new position.
“Hey, at least you found him! Babies can wander off pretty easily even if they are just learning how to walk. My girl is just starting to crawl and she's gotten away from me like two or three times already.” she laughs as she was her daughter gargle.
The guy seems to appreciate her words as he hufffs looking at the boy in his arms. He looks back at her and his face goes a little pink.
“Thanks...It has been pretty rough lately with him hitting all these new milestones. He literally just learned how to start walking this week and he's already managed to get away from me twice. He falls every other step but that doesn't stop him from trying to get away.” he kisses the boy on the head.
“So he's yours? Not your little brother or anything?” she gives him a suspicious look. She had already fallen for the “oh he/she's my kid” spiel a few times now. Sadly there are way to many guys trying to get in a new mom's pants for at least one go before they split town. She got the low down from some of the other teen moms in her local parent group.
He visibly gulps a little as he bounces the baby in his arms a little bit to keep him entertained. He nods saying “Yep 100% mine. We get the whole brother thing a lot...trust me he gets all the good looks from me.” Reader laughs making him grin back.
“Hawk”
“Reader”
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dcyllom · 5 months
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What's Your Name?
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Hey @lovememadly92, merry Christmas!! I'm your secret santa for the hbowar fic exchange! I'm sorry this is a few days late but I had some major technical difficulties with the Google Doc I was writing on which stopped me from posting earlier. There's also going to be another part to this that I'm still trying to recover, so I'm sorry for the wait 😅 🎄 
Request: one of the men falling in love with an SOE agent and vice versa for either enemies to lovers or friends to lovers.
Pairings: Lewis Nixon x OFC (Rosemary Young)
I hope you like this, Merry Christmas! :)
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A branch snapped. Rosie stiffened, glancing around the clearing she was in. There was a rustling to her left, perhaps ten metres away. 
A voice called out, shaky in the uncertainty of the night. “Flash!”
Rosie exhaled sharply, relief flooding her body before answering in kind. “Thunder.” There was a pause after she spoke, followed by hurried whispers, as the Americans she’d been addressing registered the feminine tone of her voice. 
She waited patiently. Branches were pushed apart as a face streaked with black appeared, eyes shining in the moonlight under thick brows. Rosie and the man stared at each other, before the quiet was broken by a nasal voice. 
“Hey Lieutenant, can we move out? My foot’s cramping.” The Lieutenant glanced behind him, one brow raised, before shifting forwards. Several khaki-clad figures holding rifles stepped out cautiously, all aiming their guns at her head. There were four of them, with eagles emblazoned on their jackets. 101st Airborne, then. Just who she was looking for.
Rosie spoke as reassuringly as she could. “Bonjour, les Américains. I am with the French Resistance, and have been ordered to aid the Americans with their landings for Operation Overlord. I have a message for your Colonel Sink.” She knew her French accent was impeccable, but she didn’t like how it made the man in front of her grin so smugly.
The Americans looked between each other for a moment. Rosie caught movement in her peripheral vision, seeing a young, clearly uneasy Private on the left of the rag-tag group of soldiers fiddling with the safety catch of his gun. The Lieutenant noticed her gaze move, and followed her line of sight.
“Put the damn gun down, Penkala. She look like a Kraut to you?”
Rosie let her shoulders relax as Penkala lowered the gun, and the Lieutenant strode forward, hand outstretched and smirking. “Pleasure to meet you, miss. I’m Lieutenant Nixon, intelligence officer with the 101st Airborne.” Well, that explained the smug grin. This officer had likely been briefed on the SOE agents who would be joining their little adventure back in England. He had a smooth, self-assured voice, and was clearly well-educated. He also happened to be quite handsome, and he looked like he knew it too if the gleam in his eye was anything to go by.
Rosie gripped his hand firmly and shook it, hoping the flush in her cheeks would go unnoticed in the low light. “Call me Thérèse. You are five miles from your drop zone, Lieutenant Nixon. I have been searching for your men and your Colonel for the better part of the night.”
“Well, mind telling us where we actually are, Thérèse? We’re in a bit of a hurry.” His tone was light, but Rosie heard an edge to it all the same. Her mouth thinned. 
“Take out your map, Lieutenant, and I will show you where you are.” Nixon looked a bit ruffled at the change in her attitude, but did what she asked all the same, pulling the scarf from around his neck. Rosie watched curiously as he shook it out, and then shone her flashlight on the silk to reveal a detailed map of Omaha and Utah beach, and the surrounding countryside. 
The other Americans crowded around them at the behest of their Lieutenant, and she pointed to a point just east of a little French village on the outskirts of Saint-Marie-du-Mont, the silk slippery under her finger. The Lieutenant swore under his breath, something Rosie privately thought the village of Pouppeville did not deserve. The words drawn from his superior’s lips also caused Private Penkala to look at him askance, twisting his shocked face to stare very hard at Rosie with beseeching eyes in what she assumed was supposed to be an apology on Nixon’s behalf. He needn't have bothered. Rosie’s good opinion of Lieutenant Nixon had not been very high to begin with anyway.
The trek to Drop Zone C, where the paratroopers she was accompanying were meant to have landed before hell opened up on them, was made quick by Rosie’s knowledge of the hedgerows they were skirting around. To his credit, Lieutenant Nixon did not question her competence as she led them through the Normandy fields, but he did tail annoyingly close, his arm brushing her shoulder occasionally. Rosie would’ve been tempted to stop abruptly so he would run into her back, if the commotion wouldn’t have put them at risk of alerting any nearby Germans. Rosie cast a look at Nixon, only to find him already staring at her and unnervingly close. But before she could do more than lift an eyebrow they heard noises from the hedgerow on the opposite side of the road they were on. 
Nixon held up a hand and the Americans were silent, watching, waiting, to see if they’d been spotted. Rosie crept forward, only to be stopped by a hand grasping her wrist. She gritted her teeth and wrenched her arm out of Nixon’s grip, moving silently across the road to lie in the ditch just in front of the hedge. Rosie reached behind her, aware of the brown eyes burning a hole in her skull, and pulled out her pistol before shifting forwards to peer through a small hole in the leaves. 
A few tired looking Wermarcht soldiers were walking along the path, talking quietly amongst themselves as they came back from what must have been a patrol.
She turned around slowly, meeting Lieutenant Nixon’s frantic eyes, and held up her fingers to show the number of Germans there were. The Lieutenant motioned something to her, but he was using US Army hand signals and was therefore being quite useless. She could see him mouthing ‘Thérèse’ at her, but she ignored him, throwing up a hand to halt any movement the Americans might make. She took aim, and fired, dropping the German closest to her with a neat shot to the head, before taking out the other two in quick succession. They barely even had time to shout in pain and shock, unaware of their fate due to the silencer attached to her pistol.
Only the crickets buzzing in the grass could be heard for a fraught second, before a loud “What the fuck!” came from the nasally soldier, who was apparently called Liebgott. Rosie slipped back to the Americans, stuffing her pistol in her pocket, only to be met by Lieutenant Nixon’s slack jaw.
His gaze became tense, hands flexing at his side. “Don’t take a risk like that again. Let us handle it. It’s our job.”
She stared at him. “It is also mine, and that I am far more experienced at this than you, Lieutenant. I would expect an intelligence officer to already know this, but apparently not. Now follow, unless you want me to leave you at the hands of the next Germans who decide to wander through here.” She walked away, leaving the disgruntled but mollified soldiers to trail in her wake towards the sounds and conversation of the American base.
Rosie earned a lot of sideways glances as she strode through the crowd of soldiers, with their harsh accents and loud voices. Eventually, however, just when she was losing hope that she’d ever find an officer amongst the men scattered around the Normandy village where they’d set up a base, Lieutenant Nixon surged forwards from behind her to greet a harried but kind  looking man who made himself known as Captain Hester, and Rosie was able to leave the aggravating Lieutenant behind in order to find Colonel Sink.
But, before she could slip into the crowd, a hand wrapped itself around her wrist once again and she was pulled back to face Lieutenant Nixon.
“Hey, Thérèse, before you run off–” He stopped as she attempted to rip her arm out of his hold, but he’d clearly expected this as he simply adjusted his grip as she glared at him.
“Before you run away, I wanted to say thanks.” Rosie stayed silent, not trusting herself to speak. For a moment, he didn’t speak either, just looked at her. “Your name’s not really Thérèse, is it?”.
Rosie’s answering smile was smug.
“What’s your name?” Nixon pressed.
“Call me Rosie, Lieutenant Nixon. My apologies, but I really must be going. I have a job to do,” and with that she slipped out of his loosened grip and darted through the mess of soldiers, dodging as she went and ignoring the shout from Nixon after her
“Hey, hey! Is that even your real name?!”
But Rosie had already vanished into the night.
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