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mrs-gucci · 3 years

Text

Casting Couch {Charlie Barber x Reader}

author’s notes: hello, hello! I was driving home from work the other day and this idea just suddenly took over my entire thought process. so, naturally, I went ahead and wrote it up :)

warnings (what you see here is what you’ll get!): smut. the enemy of my enemy is my ally (with benefits). p in v sex. protected sex. rough oral sex. cum- swallowing.

(possible) tw’s: semi-public sex.

word count: 3.2k

charlie’s taglist peeps! {charlie currently doesn’t have any taglist peeps} my general taglist peeps! @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 @icarusinthesea @gildedstarlight @mrs-zimmerman @soldmysoulagain @roseepossee @pascalisfairyy @I-can’t-draw-faces @ahsoka1 @babbushka @safarigirlsp (if you’d like to be added to or removed from any of my taglists, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist)

Two Years Ago.

“Y/N...she fucking did it again.” Nicole says as she barges through the door of hers and Charlie’s shared brownstone. “She got the fucking TV gig.”

Charlie’s eyebrows furrow a bit before looking up at his wife with an empathetic expression, setting the notebook and pen he’d been using down on the coffee table.

“Bummer. I really thought you had it in the bag.” He says, elbows on his thighs as he leans forward a bit, folding his hands. “There will be other roles; I wouldn’t worry too much. You win some, you lose some; that’s how it goes in this industry. You’ve taken plenty of roles from her.”

She sighs, nodding. “Yeah, I know, but this one I was excited about. And I really thought I had it, too. It just stung a little extra, you know?”

Her husband nods, patting the seat next to him on the couch. “C’mere, sit with me. We’ll have a glass of wine.”

Nicole gives somewhat of a dreadful grimace, a clear sign she really wasn’t interested. Charlie’s been noticing this for the past few months, her disinterest in being with him as much as she usually was, but he figured it was just her being tired. She’s been doing a lot of odd jobs to make some ends meet lately, so it’s probably a result of that.

“Are you sure?” He asks, a twang of longing sadness in his voice.

She nods. “Yeah, I’m just gonna go lay down for a bit.”

Charlie just nods, picking back up his notebook and pen, continuing to review and add to his notes from the day.

“Let me know if you need anything.” He calls after her. “I love you.”

She only offers him a small smile over her shoulder in return before emerging into their bedroom, closing the door immediately behind her.

Present Day.

It feels strange, holding auditions for a female lead. He hasn’t had to do so in almost a decade; just yet another reminder of how much of his life has changed just in the past year.

The divorce had been painful, stressful, and he was honestly more relieved than anything when it finally came to a close, despite it not really turning out the way he’d hoped for in terms of custody over Henry.

Luckily, he’s dove deeper into his one true love, directing, as a way to cope with the loss of everything he’d worked so hard to build for himself; the marriage, the 'American dream’ family and home he wished he’d had growing up.

Now, after six months of weekly therapy appointments and keeping himself busy with work, he’s feeling more like the old Charlie he was back before everything went to shit. Actually, he’s feeling like an even better version of that Charlie, the best version of himself there’s been in a while, perhaps even before he met and married Nicole.

The first audition comes onstage and Charlie can’t decide what’s worse, her off-pitch singing or her monotonous speaking voice.

God, this was going to be a long fucking day.

You’d heard through the grapevine that the famed Broadway director had moved here to LA, and that he’d divorced his witch of a wife, Nicole.

Nicole Barber had been your biggest rival ever since you swiped that first movie role away from her. She hates you, and you don’t particularly like her, either, thus your rivalry began. And it was pretty heated, too; the two of you were always trying to one-up each other.

It really was a back-and-forth battle, her swiping roles from you, you returning the favor; it was a game, to put it simply. Although lately, you’ve been getting more roles than she has, not that you’re complaining, and there’s a part of you that hopes she quits the business for good.

Word got around that Charlie is heading his first LA Broadway production and what better way to hit Nicole close to home than to show up at her ex-husband’s auditions? Even better, what if you got the female lead in her ex-husband’s production? Oh god, that would be fantastic, not only for the rivalry but also for your career.

You’ve been looking to branch out into more theater roles, and this is as good an opportunity as to dip your toe in the theater world water. Plus, you’re not necessarily complaining about having the chance to look at and work with Charlie Barber every day...

So you prepared your piece of dialogue and a section of one of the choice songs, heading over to the theater fifteen minutes before your set audition time. Your knee bounces as you sit in the waiting area, eyes running over your script and lyrics sheet one final time, solidifying it all in your memory.

Your name is called a few minutes later and you head out onto the stage, handing over your headshot and qualifications resume. The agent hands over your profile to the handsome director, but he doesn’t even really look at it, already knowing exactly who you are. A small smirk grazes his lips as he flips to a new page of his notebook, clicking the top of his pen.

“Whenever you’re ready, Miss Y/N.”

After you’re finished, Charlie scribbles one final thing in his notebook before looking up at you. His eyes trail over your figure for a moment, another smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Would you be comfortable coming back for a more intimate audition later this week? Maybe, Friday at four? I would like to get to know you better, see if you meet all of my... qualifications.”

The look in his eye tells you all you need to know about the true motivations behind his question. You nod, biting your lip.

“It’d be my absolute pleasure, Mr. Barber.” You purr.

He shifts in his seat suddenly and quickly crosses one leg over the other before opening up your folder, handing the top sheet to his assistant.

“Diane, go ahead and have Miss Y/N put down all of her contact information.” His gaze never leave you as he speaks to the timid-seeming young woman. “Make sure she gives her personal cell number.”

You pull a pen from your bag on the stage, clicking it open before Diane hands you the paper. As you write every means of contact you can think of, starting with your cell number, you playfully bite the end of the pen and tap it against your bottom lip, something that certainly keeps the already attentive director’s full attention.

“Thank you so much for this opportunity, Mr. Barber.” Your tone is innocent-sounding, but your gaze is anything but. It sends a chill down Charlie’s spine. “I promise I won’t disappoint.”

“Oh, I’m sure you won’t.” A small tug at one corner of his lip accompanies his response. “See you soon, Miss Y/N.”

You offer him a nod.

“Looking forward to it.”

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

In preparation for your upcoming...meeting with Charlie, you take a quick trip to the nearest intimates store, picking up a pretty little lace bra and panty set. Your lingerie wardrobe is long overdue for a bit of sprucing up, anyway.

When the time comes, you slip the fresh lace garments on before putting on your planned outfit, a cute-but-subtly-sexy low cut romper. You put on a light face of makeup, purely for professionalism’s sake, then head out with a small bag which contains various personal items as well as your script and composition page.

He’s not in his backstage office when you arrive, but he comes in a couple minutes later, a strong stench of cigarette smoke trailing behind him as he walks by your chair.

“I apologize for the delay. You weren’t waiting long, were you?”

You shake your head as he takes a seat behind the ratty oak desk, shifting a few small stacks of papers around on the heavily scratched surface.

“No, no I wasn’t waiting long.”

He nods, then folds his hands atop the desk, eyes flickering up to meet yours. For a moment, his eyes dart down to where your cleavage creeps out of your low-cut top.

“You’ve got the part.” Charlie says with a small smile. “You’re by far the best and most qualified audition we had yesterday, and I like the way you carry yourself. You’re exactly the type of person I like working with. Part’s yours if you want it.”

You’re overcome with joy, a wide smile spreading itself across your lips. “I’d love to be a part of this production, Mr. Barber. I’m really excited to get to work with you and the rest of the crew.”

“That’s great, I’m glad to hear it.” He nods, smile widening when as he processes your acceptance. His delighted expression falls after a few moments, replaced by one much more salacious.

“Now that we’ve gotten that part out of the way...I think you know why I called a meeting of such, uh, privacy.”

You smirk softly, shifting around in your seat slightly. “I believe I do.”

His feet plant on the ground as he pushes the rolling office chair out from under the desk, standing up and walking around the desk to tower over you.

“Before anything happens, though, I want you to know that whether or not you do this with me will not affect my casting decision. Even if you decline, you still have the part.”

You nod before standing, quickly and swiftly, stepping forward to press yourself flush against him.

“Charlie?”

“Yeah?”

Your hands rest on his chest, neck craning slightly to look up at him. “Just kiss me, will you?”

He laughs, massive hand moving to cradle the back of your head before he bends down and connects your lips in a passionate kiss. There’s nothing tender or gentle about this embrace, it’s all tongue and teeth, raw lust coursing between your two bodies.

“Couch.” His voice is soft but husky.

“Unzip me first?” You ask, turning around so he can unzip you. He does, then his hands slide down to your hips and pushes you towards the leather couch tucked in the corner of his office.

The material squeaks when you’re laid down on top of it, head resting comfortably on the cushy fabric accent pillow as he climbs on top of you. He presses his hips forward while he tucks his face into the crook of your neck and plants kisses on the skin there.

Your eyes widen as his impressive bulge rubs up against your inner thigh and you quickly wonder how in the world you’ll be able to take him. His crooked teeth scrape over the taut muscles in your neck while his hands pull the backs of your romper down over your shoulders.

His hands grab and grope your breasts beneath where they rest in your nice bra, one you wore just for him, and your back arches slightly up off the cushions with a soft sigh.

A small smile crosses his expression, teeth sinking gently into your neck. “I like the little noises you make for me, Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You smirk, running your hands through his hair. “Then I bet you’ll like my moans, too. If you think you can draw them out of me, that is.”

He laughs softly, sucking and licking at at the place his teeth have just abused. “Is that a challenge?”

“Well, it’s more like an invitation to prove yourself, but ‘challenge’ is also a good word for it.”

Charlie pulls away with a smirk, shaking his head as he sits back on his haunches and begins to unbuckle his belt.

“Brat.”

Once he’s undone his pants and pulled them down enough to expose himself to you, he leans down once more and pulls your romper the rest of the way off, leaving you completely bare, minus your undergarments. His eyes roam your figure for a moment before he dips a hand beneath the patch of black fabric nestled between your thighs.

Your breath hitches as his fingertips swipe over your erect clit, giving it a few little circles before yanking the panties off your hips and down your ankles, tossing them down alongside your previously-discarded romper.

His eyes widen in realization, cheeks flushing pink.

“Do you have any, um, protection?”

You smirk, nodding as you sit up and pat his chest. “Indeed, I do.”

He crawls off of you and you walk over to your purse, grabbing a condom from the mini-stash you keep in your wallet, the one you replenished just minutes before you left the house this afternoon. He takes it from you and pinches the tip, rolling it down his shaft. For a moment, you’re worried that it isn’t going to fit, but he rolls it on with little issue.

His hips press forward, then, entering you slowly but steadily with a soft grunt. You whine as your insides stretch out around him, hands reaching up to tangle in his hair. “S-Shit.”

“You’re really fucking tight, jesus.” He growls between gritted teeth, jaw screwed shut as his hips begin to move. “I haven’t fffucked anyone in a while, Y/N, so I can’t guarantee that I’ll last very long.”

You nod, softly. “It’s alright, Charlie; it’s been a little while for muh--me, too.”

Your eyes flutter shut and your face begins to scrunch up with each time his fat cockhead brushes up against your cervix. His pace increases after a minute or so, a consistent slap-slap-slap noise now echoing off the drywall with each snap of his hips.

“You’ve got a nice little pussy, you know that? Always knew you would be, too, knew you’d be a good little cccocksleeve.”

You moan shakily as he adjusts his position, towering over you and pinning your wrists above your head with one of his large hands. Your body begins to bounce, tits, thighs and tummy jiggling each time he thrusts in.

He’s starting to sweat, a few dark hairs sticking to his dimly-glowing forehead, more and more accumulating there as his hair rocks back and forth in time with the rhythm of his hips.

“Touch yourself, now, rrrub your little clit.” His voice is getting shaky as he draws nearer to climax.

Nodding, your hand slides down between your joined bodies until your fingertips settle onto the small bundle of nerves. The hand that’s still weaved in Charlie’s locks clenches and he lets out a sudden deep growl, hips stuttering for a moment.

“Ooooh, Charlie.” You moan, hips lifting and gyrating against both his cock and your fingers.

“God, fffuck I love this cunt.” A vulgar squelching sound knits itself within the quilt of your salacious symphony. “Wrapped around my cock like a vice, gonna pull the fucking cum right out of it. Swear you get tighter each time I push back in...christ, I’m not gonna last.”

Your fingers circle your clit faster, setting a desperate pace, one that almost matches his quick and sloppy thrusts. You’re close now, too, and it doesn’t take much longer for your orgasm to hit.

You cream around him with a long moan and a string of various other noises, with a few profanities thrown in as well. The product of your release coats his shaft in a pearlescent sheen, dripping down his ball-sack soon enough.

The sensations your climax creates around Charlie forces him to pull away almost immediately after, quickly yanking the condom off and onto his office floor, squeezing the base of his flaming red length.

His hand seizes your jaw tightly, thumb pressing down on your tongue, prying your mouth open. “I’m gonna fuck your mouth and shove my cum down your throat, and you’re gonna take it all, isn’t that right?”

You’re nodding instantly, slacking your jaw to open even further in preparation for his upcoming intrusion. He smirks.

“Good. Now, on your knees.”

He sits down where you once laid, lazily pumping his throbbing length as you get into position between his spread legs. He pulls your hair up into a makeshift ponytail with his hand, then lines you up with his cock and eases your mouth down onto him.

“Thaaaaaat’s it, oh, gooooood girl.”

You start gagging about three quarters of the way down his shaft, but he still keeps pushing until you’ve got the whole thing in your mouth. Your jaw’s already getting sore as he begins thrusting upwards, fucking your mouth.

Tears swell in your eyes and begin to spill down your cheeks the more he goes, mascara surely ruined and running down your face. The sight only arouses him further, a low groan rumbling through his puffed chest.

He’s trying so hard to keep himself together, to stave off his orgasm for as long as he can manage, but soon he finds it next to impossible to hold back. His bottom lip quivers ever so slightly as his length begins to twitch, balls drawing up.

“Fuck, I’m gonna--”

You taste and feel the salty ropes shooting down your throat before he can even finish his warning.

“Ah, fffuuuuck.” His head falls back against the couch cushions, hips bucking gently as each bit of release is spilled into your mouth. His grip on your head relaxes after he’s finished, cock softening while he catches his breath and re-grounds himself in reality.

Your chest heaves as full airflow returns to your lungs, knees and jaw aching a bit sore from their exertion. You grab your underwear from where they lay discarded on top of your romper, putting them back on before standing up on somewhat shaky legs.

Charlie also redresses, standing and straightening himself out as you do the same.

“Mind zipping me back up?” You ask, turning around again.

He pulls the zipper up your back until it’s at the end of its tracks, then steps up behind you, placing a soft kiss to your shoulder blade.

“Thank you.”

A soft smile grazes your lips. “No ‘thanks’ needed; the sweet taste of revenge and spite is payment enough.”

He laughs quietly.

“Well, I’ll certainly be available, should you ever need a little replenishing of those feelings.”

“Mr. Barber, you wouldn’t be saying that because you’d like to see me naked again, now would you?” Your eyebrows raise and you look over your shoulder, a playful smile on your face.

He laughs again, blushing a bit. “Uh, yeah, sure, I'd like that a lot. But I’d also like to see you, um...not naked, fully clothed, maybe at a restaurant in the city for dinner sometime? I totally get it if you’re not interested, it’s not a big deal if you don’t want to...”

Holy shit, he’s asking you out on a date. Well, he’s trying to, at least.

You laugh, cheeks warming at his proposition.

“Sure thing. I just accepted this new job, though, so I’ll have to get back to you about my availability...”

Charlie smiles, shoving his hands down in his khaki pockets. “I’m sure your new boss would be more than willing to accommodate. He’s a pretty cool guy, or so I’ve heard. Handsome, too.”

“Oh yeah? Sounds like you have a reliable informant.” You turn around as you laugh softly, grabbing your bag off the chair before stepping up in front of him. Your lips plant a quick peck on his, hands resting on his broad chest. “See you soon.”

He nods, biting his lip to hold back his big, goofy smile.

“Can’t wait.”

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seekingseven · 3 years

Note

All I would like to request is Legend and Sky hanging out, maybe being friends. Also, love you lots Seeking! Hope you're taking care of yourself and having a good day. It's what you deserve ^u^

Linked Universe Prompt Requests #3!

First of all, I appreciate you so much, Silver! And second, here you go!

(You can also read the fic here on Ao3)

~~~~~~

Legend leaned against his kitchen counter, chin in his palm and nose scrunched against the breeze leaking through the window.

"Foul ball, that was a foul ball!"

"Wha- no it wasn't! You can't call a foul ball whenever we score!"

Warriors and Twilight glowered at each other. On the far side of the backyard, Wind dribbled a spotted ball between his ankles and made small talk with Wild, who was trying to wipe away the sweat pooling under his arms with the end of his ponytail. Legend scrunched his nose in disgust. Apparently the champion's bright idea to host a ball game in the hottest hour of the afternoon had come back to bite him.

His focus drifted over to the other side of his backyard, where Hyrule stood forlornly between two wooden posts. His team's poor excuse for a goal, most likely.

"You tried to trip me!"

"I did not! Stop whining, would you? If you wanted to win you should have learned the rules of the game beforehand."

"Cut me some slack, Twi. It's my first time playing!"

"Not an excuse. If you wanted to learn you could have just stayed inside with Sky and Legend or gone to the market with Four!"

Warriors took a few quick steps forward. Twilight stood his ground and puffed up his chest.

"That's enough, you two." Time said, voice snapping from his spot on a nearby bench. Legend grunted. What kind of referee watched from a bench? This was why there was an argument happening in the first place.

Behind him, the kettle began to whistle. Legend pushed himself off his elbows and turned to shut off the stove top, only partially ignoring the sounds of athletic revelry from the backyard. Porcelain clinked as Legend pulled a cup off the drying rack, then, glancing across the room, pulled off another.

If Sky was bothered by any of the commotion outside or the domestic ambience inside, he didn't show it. Instead, he sat at a table by the porch window, filing idly through the mounds of miscellaneous letters and trinkets piled around him. An overhead cuckoo clock wheedled out a dinky tune as Sky scrutinized an oddly-shaped mask.

"Coffee?" Legend asked.

Sky looked up from the table, then smiled.

"Yes, please!"

"Wrong, it's tea. What kind do you want?"

Sky's eyebrows furrowed for a moment before he caught on.

"Oh, haha! You got me. Uh, I don't really know. Surprise me."

Legend nodded to himself as he poured the kettle into the two cups. "You like sweet stuff?"

"Yeah, big fan. Can't drink anything too hot, though. Hurts my face. You got any iced tea or something?"

Steam plumed from the cups. Legend let out a small snort.

"Would have been nice to know that earlier."

Sky scratched the back of his neck and had the decency to offer up an apologetic smile. With a roll of his eyes, Legend set the kettle down and hoisted himself onto the kitchen counter.

He knew he stored the ice cubes in one of the overhead cabinets, but which one? Cabinets opened and closed as Legend balanced precariously on the countertop. Where was it? Had he really been gone so long that he didn't know where his own things were?

"Hey Legend, what's this?"

Paper rustled. The legs of Sky's chair squeaked as he leaned back, and in the corner of his eye Legend saw his companion hold something up to his face.

"Little busy here," Legend mumbled, closing yet another cabinet full of pots and pans. Maybe he should give some to Ravio; the guy needed some things for his new place, anyway. "Can you describe it to me?"

A snicker, then a stifled sound of agreement. Legend would have turned around to glare at Sky if he wasn't busy gloating over his find; the ice, at last! The countertop groaned as Legend plopped the bag of ice atop it and hopped onto the floor.

"It's a letter," Sky began, his voice uncharacteristically suave. Legend's eyes narrowed. "It's in this little pink envelope, and there's a little heart sticker on it. Says on the back....'from Elise.' Oh ho ho! Who's Elise? And there's another one here! This one's white, and it has a flower sticker on the lip. Very, very cute. Is this from Elise, too? Let me see...oh goddesses! 'From Carmen!' Carmen! Now tell me, does Elise know about this Carmen?"

Sky looked up at him with an impossibly smug grin. Legend pressed the corners of his lips down as he pulled out the rest of the ingredients for the tea.

"They're just girls," Legend began. "Just-"

"Just girls? What kind of philosophy is that? And to think you criticize Warriors for his womanizing tendencies..."

"You didn't let me finish! They're just girls who work at the bakery in Castle Town. I don't know how they got my address, but one day they all started sending me letters like that."

Sky's eyebrows piqued upwards. It might have looked innocent if not for the devious smile on his face.

"Oh, I see. So why did you keep them? Elise and Carmen must have been very sorry to have not received any response," Sky said, rifling through the stack of pink and red and crème colored letters and flipping them over to read the names on the back. Legend pretended he didn't see Sky's grin widen. "And I'm guessing the same is true for poor Lisa...and Donatella...and Trish..."

It was a good thing that Legend was preoccupied with measuring out sugar and honey, because if he had been any closer to the ice cubes, they might have melted from the heat radiating off Legend's face.

"I'm serious, Sky! I don't know any of them. I don't know why they kept sending the letters -- I never even gave them my address! I mean, I'm sure they're all really nice girls, but I'm just not, you know, in the position to be in a relationship right now...with the traveling and heroics and all that..."

Silverware clattered as Legend pulled open a drawer and retrieved a fruit knife. The sound of shouting and running echoed from outside. Light streamed through the kitchen window, and the breeze pushed along dust bunnies on the floor. Sky studied Legend, watching with unusual intensity as the latter skinned and diced a peach, then folded his hands behind his head.

"Fine, fine. But one more question, then."

Legend made a vague sound that could have been read as either grateful or irritated; most likely, it was a combination of both. Sky pushed forward anyway.

"Why'd you keep them?"

"What?"

"The cards. Why did you keep them? Did you just not have a chance to throw them away or something?"

"Throw them away? Of course not! Did you see the paper they're made of? That sort of high quality cardstock doesn't come from just anywhere! If I can find a way to bleach the paper without damaging it, I can use it for all sorts of things!"

Sky snorted, smiled, and tossed a handful of pink cards back onto the table. Hoarder, indeed.

"I think that Ravio friend of yours is starting to rub off on you."

"He is not," Legend insisted, placing a spoon and straw in both cups before walking over to the table. Only after Sky brushed away the cards in front of him did Legend hand him his tea. "He would have tried to sell them off as antiques or something. Guy wouldn't know what a real antique was even if it was staring him in the face."

Sky hummed. The sound bubbled into his tea and set little capsules of air drifting across the frothy surface. "Hey, did you put peaches in this?"

"Yeah, you like it?"

Outside, Warriors cried foul and Hyrule said something about headshots. Sky sipped his drink again, then grinned. "Mmmm, delicious. Yeah, I love it! Give me the recipe sometime, huh?"

"Heh, will do. Glad you like it."

"And speaking of Ravio, where is he? Didn't you say he used to squat here?"

Legend nodded, hands cupped around his drink and goosebumps flaring from its soothing coolness. "He did, but he just moved out. Got his own shop by the castle, with a big nice sign out in front. Professionally made. It looks pretty good, honestly. I haven't seen him in a while, but I might drop by sometime to say hi."

"Ah, I see," Sky said, absently threading one of the love letters through his fingers. Legend shot him a dirty glare, but he paid it no mind. "Hey, you said that these girls somehow figured your address, right? Do you think Ravio might have given it out? Maybe while you were gone or something?"

"Ravio? That's ridiculous. He's not the sort of guy to do that. For the longest time he's been telling me to...to..."

Legend's eyes widened. The goosebumps along his arms grew more pronounced, and this time it wasn't from his chilly drink.

"He what?" Sky prompted.

"He's been telling me to get a girlfriend for the longest time and...he...he set me up. He set me up! He gave out my address to those girls. I know it! He...this is his fault!"

Sky burst into laughter. Tea sprayed across the table, splattering across rose-colored envelopes and sparkling cardstock. Legend punched him in the shoulder, hard, but Sky didn't stop.

"Ravio! Ravio as your wingman, I would have never thought! Doing the goddesses' work, he is!"

"Oh, shut up, would you? I'm not going to make you tea again!"

Their punching and tousling cooled when the front door swung open. A moment later, Four stepped inside, arms laden with groceries and a peculiar grin on his face.

"You're back!" Sky said. Legend mumbled something about Sky stating the obvious before placing his cup to his cheek, trying to smother his burning blush.

"Sorry to interrupt whatever was going on here," Four said. That odd smile was still on his face. "I’m just about to put all these groceries away, but there's something I need to give to Legend first."

"Me?" Legend asked. Four's grin widened; it looked unnervingly similar to the one Sky had worn just minutes ago.

"Yes, special delivery. From a certain 'Amelia'. It's the red box, yeah, that one."

Legend picked up the box gently, sandwiching it between his forearm and bicep, and shuddered. Sky and Four traded a sidelong look before the latter darted off into the kitchen.

"Well? What do you think it is?" Sky asked.

"I don't want to know," Legend whispered. He took a seat by the table before tossing the box by his cup. Something rustled inside.

"Open it..."

"Open it!" Four chimed from the kitchen. His voice was unusually high.

With a world weary sigh, Legend edged his fingers under the box cover and slowly lifted it upwards.

"Well? What is it?"

"Wait, would you? I can't tell..."

Legend leaned forward, squinting.

His eyes widened.

With an undignified BANG, he slammed the box shut and launched it across the room. His face was stained a dangerous color of scarlet.

"...well?" Sky repeated, "what was it?"

Legend let out a short breath, then leaned over to cradle his head in his hands.

"...remind me to kill Ravio the next time I see him," he growled.

Sky and Four burst into laughter, and even Legend couldn't fully stifle a smile.

~~ Fine ~~ I hope you enjoyed! Thank you so much for reading! [Previous Request] - [Next Request]

#linked universe Sky #linkeduniverse #linkeduniverse fanfic #linked universe legend #please dont rb as raviolink!#all platonic stuff here <3 #seeking's prompt requests!

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beelsnack · 4 years

Note

Henlo!!! Just wanted to request MC getting surprised by the demon bros in the human realm! The bros miss MC a lot so they just surprise them and hang out for a bit :) it can be HCs! Thank you and I love ya work ❤️

Henlo!! Get ready for some fluff, my dudes.

I don’t know why, but this seemed better as short little headcanons as opposed to my usual scenarios.

-----

Lucifer

- He had expressly forbade any of his brothers from going up to the human world, because “they needed time to readjust.”

- But apparently Pridey McPrideface is exempt from his own rules.

- He does his research. If the human still lives with their parents or has roommates, he picks a night when they are home alone.This night is reserved for the two of them, and he will eviscerate anyone who gets in the way.

- Honestly, he wants to do some sort of grand entrance, but in the end, he simply knocks on the door.

- “Hello, my dear,” he takes their hand and kisses their knuckles. “I’ve missed you.”

- “Lucifer!” they tackle him with a hug strong enough to knock over a lesser demon. In his peripheral, Lucifer sees a neighbor stick their head out of the door and look around with a confused look.

- “You have nosy neighbors, I see.”

“Well, I mean, I did just scream ‘Lucifer...’”

“Perhaps we should go inside before someone calls a priest?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

- The two of them spend the night in their living room, just talking. They ask if he wants to go out somewhere, but he declines.

“This is the most relaxed I’ve been in centuries. I’m perfectly satisfied with staying in with you.”

- He hadn’t intended to stay the night, but it was near impossible to resist the offer. And that would end up being his downfall.

- He had forgotten about that stupid game that his brothers and the human liked to play, where they got pictures of each other sleeping. And, just as he couldn’t resist the temptation to spend the night with them, they couldn’t resist the temptation to steal a picture while he slept.

- When he arrived back at the House of Lamentation, all six of his brothers were waiting for him in the entrance hall.

- “So, where ya been, Luci?” Mammon sneered. “Ya couldn’t have possibly snuck off to visit the human after makin’ damn sure you told us not to do that, now could ya?”

“It’s not like our dear eldest brother to do something so hypocritical.” Satan said coolly, regarding Lucifer with a raised eyebrow.

“...I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.” Lucifer huffed.

“’Hey guys! How many points is a sleeping Lucifer worth?’” Levi turned his phone around to show Lucifer a picture of his own sleeping face, with the human’s laughing eyes just poking out from the bottom corner.

“...Oh.”

He wasn’t living this one down for a while.

Mammon

- This sneaky little bastard straight up just climbs into their room in the middle of the night.

- You know, like he DIDN’T live in a completely different realm.

- The human damn near punches him in the face when he wakes them up.

- “Mammon, what the actual fuck are you doing?”

“Visiting, what’s it look like?”

“To my neighbors, probably breaking and entering.”

- They should kick him out, all they have to do is issue a pact command. But Mammon looks at them with his sad blue eyes and they just can’t bring themself to do it.

- “I got so used to ya...y’know...sleeping next to me.” he shuffled around like a kid waiting to get scolded. “It’s hard to fall asleep when ya ain’t there.”

“Shut up and cuddle with me, you big baby.”

- They stay up stupidly late watching vine compilations and talking until they straight up just pass out against each other. They stay like that for the rest of the night.

- And by rest of the night I mean until freaking noon the next day. And the only reason they wake up then is because Lucifer is blowing up Mammon’s phone.

- “Mammon, where are you?”

“If you’re out clubbing, be back at a reasonable hour. If you’re out scheming, don’t come back until you have something to show for it.”

“You better not have passed out in a gutter somewhere. We have a reputation to uphold, you know.”

“Mammon, please tell me you didn’t directly disobey an order and go visit the Human Realm.”

Four unread voicemails.

“Welp, you’re fucked.”

“Thanks, human, love you too.”

Leviathan:

- Social anxiety is a bitch and a half, so he just asks if he can come visit.

-Deadass just portals into their living room like “’Sup, I brought games, go get some snacks and get prepared to get rekt.”

- That’s it, that’s the visit.

- They decide to do multiplayer vs some other humans and they wipe the floor with them.

- “Eat it, normies, I’M the one playing with a hot person! Have fun in your moms’ basements!”

“Pot meet kettle, Levi.”

“I don’t live in a basement, though!”

“Fair point. Boom, headshot!”

- Levi manages to sleep over without repercussions solely because nobody is surprised if he doesn’t show up somewhere.

Satan

- Makes direct eye contact with Lucifer as he leaves the House of Lamentation and goes “Don’t wait up.”

-Times his surprise visit so he’s made himself comfortable with a book and a cup of coffee when they get home.

- They brought a friend over to study or whatever. The human sees him in the middle of the living room and just screeches “Satan, what the fuck?”

-The friend is like “Aight imma head out.” And like goes into witness protection.

- Satan comes bearing gifts of the newest installments of Devildom book series’ and a recording of the episodes of the crime dramas that they need to catch up on.

- They pause between each episode to talk theories even though Satan already knows what happens. Both of them feel proud of the human when they figure it out.

- Mammon texts Satan in the middle of the night in absolute terror.

Mammon: Satan you get your ass back to the Devildom right now!

Satan: Why?

Mammon: Because Lucifer is about to rip a hole through the dimensions to drag you back here!

Satan: That sounds like a Lucifer problem.

Mammon: It’s about to be a Three Realms problem!

- Read 2:09 AM

Asmodeus

- He just tells Lucifer he’s going to visit Solomon.

- And makes sure to tell him that if Lucifer decides to interrupt him, he will gladly let him listen to all of the naughty things they’re going to be doing.

- And Lucifer just straight up doesn’t want to deal with his shit so he lets it go.

- The human comes home to see Asmo stretched out on their bed scrolling through Devilgram.

- “Ugh, finally! You took forever!”

“Asmo? What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was planning on seducing you, but I absolutely refuse to have sex on a bed that moans louder than I do.”

- They go on a cute little cafe date and Asmo insists on going to all of the high-end fashion stores.

- “Devildom fashion trends always seem a few decades behind the human world. Honestly, it wasn’t until about five years ago that I could find a skirt above my knees! You would think a Realm full of sin and vice would be a little more up-to-date with provocative attire.”

- FASHION. SHOW.

-They spend an absurd amount of time trying on tacky jewelry and roasting it via Snapchat. Like, the employee showed up on Asmo’s story as they were kicking them out.

- They buy a bottle of liquor on their way back to the human’s place, get absolutely smashed and, depending on your preference, either have the giggliest sex ever or watch stupid beauty hack videos. Maybe both. Actually, definitely both.

- The next morning, Asmo does an Inter-dimensional Walk of Shame and no one is surprised.

Beelzebub

- Was going to lie about where he was going but felt guilty about it.

- So he just didn’t tell anyone.

-Knocks on the human’s door and immediately gives them the biggest bear hug.

- “I missed you, so I came to visit. That’s okay, right?”

- Beel wants to go out to eat, but the human flat out says no because they can’t afford to wine and dine the Avatar of Gluttony.

- They compromise by buying a crapton of snacks at the grocery store.

- Cashier: Must be a big party you’re having.

Human, grabbing a family size bag of chips out of Beel’s hand without even turning to look at him: Yup.

- They make themselves a blanket fort in their living room, watching movies and eating way too many snacks. Beel asks them questions about their family and their life up there. If the human has photos, he wants to see all of them.

-The human falls asleep mid-movie, slumping against his shoulder. Beel picks them up and tucks them into bed, planning on leaving to let them rest before they sleepily ask him to spend the night.

Belphegor

- Convinces Mammon to cover for him.

- Does this by going “Please, Big Brother?” and Mammon caves almost immediately.

- Pops into the human’s bedroom in the early hours of the morning and wiggles into bed with them.

- “Why am I not surprised?”

“Missed you too.”

- Human just accepts the snuggles and goes back to sleep. Belphie makes sure they have good dreams.

- If they have work or school, Belphie convinces them to call in sick and spend the day with him.

- Lots of naps and sleepy kisses. The chillest day ever.

- The human feels so relaxed that they almost convince Belphie to stay another night, and Belphie almost agrees.

- But Mammon’s ability to bullshit will only last so long, and Belphie knows he needs to go back before someone notices that his “afternoon nap” was going on 14 hours.

- “Come see me in my dreams, okay?”

#ask #obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie

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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

Text

Tricksters ~ KNJ [Request]

WORD COUNT: 1.7K

GENRE: Fake dating, jealously, friends to lovers, first kiss, first I love you

PAIRING: Namjoon x Fem Reader

A/N: I made it a Namjoon imagine just because he doesn’t get a lot of requests, neither do the rest of them so I hope this is okay for you!! I’m sorry it’s so short! @rms-moonchild

There was no huge secret that Namjoon had one of the biggest crushes possible on you, you knew it, BangPD knew it, all the boys knew it and you were pretty sure that even TXT knew about it too. The only problem with that though was that Namjoon would never do anything about it because he was far too scared and nervous about it. Namjoon was scared he would somehow ruin the friendship you had with him and the rest of the boys if he made a move...So he never did, as much as he wanted to he would just hold it back. Despite you making it abundantly clear that you had a crush on him as well he still wouldn't do anything. You'd been dropping many...many...many hints that you would like him to take you out but still, it was like talking to a brick wall. You'd even lost your patience once and asked him out on a date but Namjoon being Namjoon thought you were trying to hang out as friends and brought the boys along ruining the entire night you had planned.

"It's getting to the point where I think I need to write it down for him." You grumbled to Hoseok who was sitting beside you in the dorms. You were close with each of them so it was normal for you to just head to the dorms to hang out for a while. Hoseok chuckled as he shook his head at the thought of Namjoon, he was supposed to be the smartest one out of you all and yet he was still clueless about this.

"On big, giant, humungous cards so that he will finally get the hint," Hoseok added as he pushed some popcorn into his mouth but you began giggling shaking your head at the thought of it though.

"What?" Hoseok questioned turning his head to the side to see what was making you laugh so much but you only started to giggle harder,

"He'd still not get it though...Would he?" You groaned out as you laid down on the sofa with your head on Hoseok's lap. You were dressed in one of his hoodies and some shorts since you were staying over for the night and Hoseok stared down at you.

"I want to do something to grab his attention, m-make him see that I want him and no one else." Hoseok began to run his fingers up and down your skin to try and relax you a little but it wasn't working, if anything it only made your body relax while your brain went into overdrive. Your mind was going back to Namjoon making you overthink, maybe all of you were wrong. Maybe he didn't like you and it was all of you just imagining it in your heads.

"What if he doesn't like me that way? What if we're all wrong?" You were staring down at your hands as you picked apart one piece of popcorn Hoseok watching you disgusting as you ate the pieces you pulled off the kernel.

"Yes because I'm sure all of us who heard him cry out that he's in love with you got it wrong." You rolled your eyes throwing the popcorn kernel up at Hoseok. The boys had come straight to you when Namjoon told them he was in love with you, it was a weird day. They'd been celebrating their newest song when they decided to have a couple of drinks. That was when Namjoon revealed the song had been about his love for you and the struggles he had with it.

"This is serious, what if he doesn't like me that way..." Hoseok was about to say something when the door to the living room opened and Namjoon appeared, your head turned to look at him and your heart seemed to skip a beat. No matter how many times you locked eyes with him he could still make your heart sing out.

"Hey!" You yelled out excitedly as you sat up from Hoseok's lap to greet a tired-looking Namjoon who'd just come in from practice. His heart sunk when he saw how you and Hoseok were laid together on the sofa and that you were dressed in Hoseok's clothes. Normally Namjoon would come home to find you in his clothes since his were your favourite to wear in comparison to everyone else's.

"What are you doing here?" He questioned as he looked between you and Hoseok before you even had a chance to answer Hoseok wrapped his arm around your waist making Namjoon's heart sink deeper into the pit of his stomach.

"Y/n came to spend time with me, right babe?" Your headshot round to look at Hoseok in surprise and Namjoon's mouth fell open as he heard the nickname come from Hoseok. Namjoon could have sworn his heart was shattered onto the floor by now as soon as he heard Hoseok call you babe, everyone knew how he felt about you so why was Hoseok doing this to him? Hobi nudged your stomach as he stared into your eyes waiting for you to say something back to him,

"Y-Yeah, we're watching a movie right baby?" You looked at Hoseok as you began snuggling into him acting as though you were a couple together,

"You're dating?" Namjoon's voice cracked as he asked the question but you nodded your head at him. Now it felt as though someone was stomping on the pieces of his broken heart, he bit down on his tongue to try and pretend to be happy about it. Hoseok was his friend and if dating you was the thing that made him happy he had to respect that.

"How long?" You looked at Hoseok waiting for him to take over since this way his plan and you were just going along with it.

"Just a week-"

"Feels like just two seconds." You laughed awkwardly looking at Namjoon nervously as he nodded his head giving no signs on his face that he was effect by this but his ears were starting to turn a bright red colour which made you feel bad about this. Namjoon scratched the back of his neck trying to think of a way out of the living room when Hoseok looked up at him,

"Watch a movie with us Hyung? It'll be nice." Namjoon's eyes went to you, he could never say no to you so he nodded his head pointing in the direction of his room.

"I'll go shower first, I'm sweaty from practice." You hummed as you went to go and make more popcorn in the kitchen not wanting to have to act like a couple in front of him again. Namjoon turned to Hoseok to speak in your absence but he had no idea where to begin with any of what he was trying to say.

"You know I like her, w-why would you?" Hoseok raised his eyebrows as he looked up at Namjoon waiting for him to say something else about it but he never did. He just walked out of the room in the direction of his bedroom.

After three long and extremely awkward hours of sitting between Hoseok and Namjoon. Namjoon resting his hand on your knee while Hoseok had his arm wrapped around your waist, the entire night was uncomfortable and made you feel uneasy about 'dating' Hoseok just to try and make Namjoon do something. Both of you knew he wouldn't since he liked to put everyone else before himself.

Hoseok had disappeared to his room over an hour ago deciding he wanted to get some sleep and it was getting later, the second movie of the night had finished so you decided to sleep as well.

"Heading to bed?" Namjoon questioned as you got up from the sofa, you nodded your head as you stretched a little, bending backwards to try and crack your back.

"Yes, so move. The sofa is my bed." You laughed softly looking at him but Namjoon frowned as he wondered what you were talking about. He shook his head as he stood up and pointed to where Hoseok's room was,

"You're dating Hoseok, go share his bed." The look on Namjoon's face was enough for you to know he hadn't believed for a second that you and Hoseok were dating,

"What gave it away?" You mumbled to him as he started laughing to himself making you lay down on the sofa closing your eyes.

"The fact that every time Hoseok went to touch you or cuddle you you would get wide-eyed and start moving away." You groaned at him as Namjoon started to laugh harder and sit down, lifting your legs up so you could lay them across his lap.

"In my defence, it was his idea, I just went along with it because I was sick of someone not getting the hint." You said as you opened your eyes to look directly at Namjoon who seemed to be blushing more and more now. Sitting up you looked him dead in the eyes,

"So technically, this is your fault, Mr. Kim. Nam.Joon." You poked his chest after every syllable of his name and he chuckled softly as he shook his head at you. Licking his lips he stared down into your eyes,

"Ask me out on a date." You mumbled to him as you sat on his lap straddling your legs either side of his, he looked into your eyes as he ran his hands up your back slowly.

"Why? We already like each other so we could-" He tried to say something but you shook your head cutting him off.

"Ask me on a date." You repeated to him as you waited for him to ask you, he rolled his eyes playfully before finally asking the question you'd been waiting for this entire time.

"Will you go on a date with me?" You faked a shocked gasp in the most dramatic way you could possibly do and looked at him. Laying your hand on his chest you smiled,

"Why Namjoon! I never thought you would ask-" He shut you up by kissing you deeply not wanting to be teased for it any more than he knew he was going to from the boys. Wrapping his arms around your body he pressed your chest against his as he pulled your body close to his. Not for one second letting you go as he picked you up to carry you to his bedroom.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @fan-ati--c @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie @rjsmochii @bisexualmess007 @innersooya @sw33tnight @sweeneyblue1 @jin-from-the-block

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marvel-m-lee · 3 years

Text

Naughty Words

Warnings: tickle fic, emotions

Words: (I'm more sure, around 1000-1500)

Summary/Prompt: So an idea for a prompt could be that the reader changes a word on Steves phone to a "bad" word. So whenever he tries to write a certain word the phone automatically changes it to "fuck" or something similar. And then the reader and the others will be like "language". Steve gets extremely frustrated until he figures it out:)

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

It was another normal day at the compound. You were bored because all the other avengers were training and Peter was at school until evenings time.

You were just sitting on the couch when you began to think to yourself. You could go annoy Tony, but you weren't sure if he was asleep. Pepper would usually force him to sleep when he couldn't so you really didnt want to disturb that. You could go train but Steve explained you were too young to be an avenger yet. OkAy StEve, (y/a) isnt old enough, WhAteVer! (I got ur back)

That's when the best idea popped into your head. An idea better than any other on the planet. Perhaps you were the smartest human on earth, smarter than Stark, perhaps even the smartest living lifefo!-

"That is a stupid idea y/n" Wanna laughed. She must had only just entered because you hadn't beard her before.

You jumped up and watched her at the counter with your elbows resting on the couch top and your head resting in your hands acting cheeky.

"Wanda! It's a great idea!" You protested. "What's gonna happen? Hmm?"

Wanda began to walk over to you and looked sideways. She brought her hand to her chin to think. You knew she was acting silly but you weren'tsure what she was up to.

"Hmm, I dunno. Maybe.." She then grabbed your hips and began to squeeze them, "Tickle you!?"

You squealed and bucked, tossing and turning on the couch, wanda now had started tickling your sides and giggling with your contagious laughter.

She then stopped and smiled at your giggling self curled into the couch. She ruffled your hair, "little prankster, have fun" she then left as you recovered from her attach as not to be attacked herself.

You didn't mind the tickles, but this prank was worth so much more.

Time had passed and you were just outside Steve's room. You entered quietly, he and the other avengers other than Wanda and Tony seemed to be training so the coast was clear. You slipped inside and looked around.

"This old man's got no taste" obvious in the nicest way possible.

You looked around and saw his phone charging by his bedside table. "Jackpot" you whispered and woddled over to it. You grabbed it and switched it on. Tony had brought him one from the 21th century, finally.

Annoyingly he now had a password now. Luckily, like all old men, it was either Password or his birthday. Or just the same password for everything.

You knew the plan, sneak in, get his phone, and change 'No' with auto correction to "FUCK YES BABY" Because, Swear words, yes, and let's all be honest Steve would never say this unless he was drunk, WHICH COULDN'T EVEN HAPPEN ANYMORE!

Once completed you snucked back out and left to your room to read a book.

More time passed, and finally the team were going to start dinner. Rather than calling everyone and disrupting them Steve decide to text everyone. Peter was also here by now, he had finished school a while ago and you both were sat in his bedroom playing video games.

Old Man Steve: So who wants what for

tea?

Metal arm: Idm

Bank💸: I'm in the shop, wont be

there.

Best mom: No Tony, we're eating dinner

with everyone. Y/n and Peter can choose

You and Peter both picked up your phones after pausing the game, both curious of the buzz after buzz's.

Old Man Steve: @Y/n🍃🌷💸 and

@spiderlings😟🕷, what do you want for

dinner?

Spiderlings😟🕷: 🍕?

You watched your phone as everyone texted, about to ask about what you should eat, but suddenly you remembered the little prank you decided to play on Steve. You knew that we had no pizza left, you and Loki had eaten it the night before when everyone was busy instead of cooking.

Old Man Steve: FUCK YES BABY, sorry Y/n

and Loki ate the last of it.

That's when both Peter and you heard Tony's laughter from his lab.

Bank💸: Languaage cap!

Metal arm: Steve??

Old Man Steve: what, FUCK YES BABY- I

didn't text that.

You: Language cap!

Badass🕷Spider: Language Steve, it's a bad

example to the kids

Old Man Steve: FUCK YES BABY, FUCK

YES BABY! How do I work this?

You and Peter then heard someone walking down the halls and to neither of your surprises Steve opened the door.

"Y/n, Peter, could one of you help me with this?"

Peter was about to answer but you quickly butted in, "oh, we don't know how to. It's too hard" you gave Peter a look.

Peter's face went from confusion to fear and smug. "Sorry Mr Roger's, this is out of my hands"

Steve grunted but smiled, he left to go to see if Tony would help him. Quickly you both tested Tony and explained the situation, everyone heard Steve grunt and leave the lab to go get dinner started.

Bank💸: you guys are fucked once he finds out yk?

Both Peter and you laughed, knowing fully well you'd be wrecked sooner or later, but you couldn't be bothered as of the moment. VIDEO GAMES AWAIT!

Half an hour had passed now and you were getting hungry, so you texted Steve to ask if food was ready, once again the same situation happened. And once more, everyone corrected him on his very inappropriate language.

It was a running gag, whenever one of you swore, Steve would correct you. 20th century shit, and him being a cinnamon bun turned steroids. Now you could have your revenge.

Finally though, food was ready. Peter and you left the room laughing and joking, you were annoying him about a headshot you had got on him but he bragged about more kills so it was practically even.

Everyone was getting to the table as Wanda and Steve set up plates, utensils, and food.

You sat next to Peter and Tony, Tony next to Pepper, next to Pepper was Sam, then Bucky, Steve, Wanda, Vision, Nat, Clint, Bruce and finally back to the Spiderling. Everyone else was busy, Thor and Loki were going to come the next week anyway, they were in Asgard again.

Everyone ate their meals, laughing and talking with one another, you sat directly across from Steve and saw him trying to stop Bucky from throwing his plate at Sam.

Tony leaned in next to you, whispering, "So you did the whole text situation?" He chuckled slightly as you nodded, smirking.

"Why?" Tony asked, he was curious because he knew you enjoyed pranking everyone, but he also knew you wouldn't do this to Steve without a reason. And in all fairness, you just wanted to spend time with Steve- and poke fun at his language- but mainly spend time with him. He had been on missions, work, training, and seemed busy with his life. You just felt as though he was drifting from you.

You shrugged at Tony's question, placing some food in your mouth. Tony poked your side, he didnt need you to answer but he didnt want Steve to have all the fun once this was over.

You squeaked and then squealed once he started squashing the skin on your side, everyone looked to see your adorable face slowly turn red from embarrassment.

"Arent they adorable?" Steve teased. You giggled and finally shoved Tony's hand off you, you looked at steve with a wobbly smile and asked about his language today.

"So Steve, what was up with your texting today?"

Nat swallowed her food and pointed a fork at Steve, "yeah Steve, it was a really inappropriate word"

In all fairness the team knew you both said fuck a lot. You usually would say after a rare mission you got to go on or when there were food in the fridge. "FUCK YEAH" or "FUCK YEAH BABY", probably from deadpool- though luckily for you, Steve was not a genius. Smart, yeah, genius. No. But you began to see the clocks turn in his head as he looked over the table at everyone.

After a while of winding up Steve, you all continued as usual. You were chatting to Peter and explaining how awesome you were at a game to Tony, luckily- well not for you- you hadn't noticed Wanda and Strve watching you as she whispered in his ear.

"Steve, y/n did it earlier, while you were training"

"What?"

"The whole 'no' situation, she wanted to prank you. She misses the time you spend together"

Steve turned to Wanda with both a confused face yet all understanding. Only now had he realised how little time he'd spent with you over the past few weeks. He felt bad but also a little mad at your little prank. But he smiled at Wanda, one filled with hope and- no he smirked. I wont sugar coat it. You were done.

Quickly Steve pushed out his chair, as loud as he could and took in a deep breath causing everyone to go silent and watch him. He then casually looked up and got to his feet. Everyone was almost finished by now, Buck, Steve, Clint, and even you had finished.

"Y/n, I need your help"

You watched him, confused. But suddenly seeing as smirk and losing all your cool as you looked to Wanda with a helpless face. Steve walked around the table and bent down to your height on the chair, whipped out his phone and asked you to help.

You stuttered, but once more explained you had no clue.

"Really? Stark, Peter, how about you?" The old man looked at the tech genius's. Neither spoke up.

"You're on your own kid"

Steve smirked and picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder slightly as you had just finished eating. Well a few minutes ago but still.

"S-Steve! Steve I didnt dohoho anything." As any normal response you began to nervously laugh, knowing fully well what would come of this. But you wanted it. You missed it. You missed Steve.

"All I need is for you to help me, can you? Or do I gave to make you?"

Steve had now flung you onto the couch as most watched and others continued their conversations.

"Steve I- i told you i have no clu-" suddenly ten fingers found your sides and began to run up and down them causing you to giggle and yelp.

"Nahaha! Steve! Steve!!"

His fingers traveled to your ribs, pinching and squeezing each one, pretending to nawh on them. He didn't start easy, no. He knew you needed this as much as he did.

"Mm, that was a great dinner, but I wonder what's for dessert?" He asked, gnawing on your ribs and squeezing your hips making you buck and squeal.

"STEVEEEEE!!!" you were almost histerical when he reached your pits, scratching at the hollows inside, making you giggle and scream, beg and brawl. It was truly adorable to watch the two of you.

"Tickle tickle y/n, aww do you want to help me now?" Steve taunted. You stood strong though, you wanted to win. Well maybe you didnt, maybe you just wanted this to last longer. You werent sure.

"NOHOHO WAY OLD MAHAN!" You bucked and squealed, blush covering your face. You truly didnt think it would get worse but oh God, Steve hadn't ripped out the fruits yet. And just for your sas. Ah, you were wrecked.

"Okay smart ass"

"LAHANGUAGE!"

"That's it." Steve lifted your shot and placed his mouth right above your belly button. Now you were beyond hysterical, you knew what would happen and wouldn't be able to handle it, Steve gave some of the best- WORSE. DEFINITELY WORST. Raspberries around.

"NAH! NAHAH! STEVE STEVE IM SOHOHORRYYYY! I'LL HELP! I'LL HELP!" you squeaked and bucked, trying to escape, those at the table laughed at your helpless, blushing body and Steve's incredible stubbornness. So mean. So very very mean. Mean.

"Ah I'm glad you'll help" Steve lifted his head and lessened his grip on your hips, not fully though, as a millisecond later he blew a big, wet, raspberry directly on your belly button, sending vibrations to your core and back.

You jolted and screeched, pushing at his head as he blew more and more with tiny tickle kisses around your stomach.

After a while he stopped and patted your head as you balled up into the couch, drowning in giggles, laughter and ghostly tickles.

Steve handed you his phone and you quickly changed the words back as they were, disappointed but happy that you spent time with Steve again. You missed your bond, even the tickles.

Steve kissed your forehead and turned on the tv, spongebob. A favourite of both of yours, cuddling together as everupmr rose finished and put away the dishes. You slowly fell asleep on Steve's lap, hally knowing you've got your captain back.

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Writers note.

Hey, sorry this was- well shit I'm not sugar coating it. It was also awkward because I cant eat to great now and the cuteness was sickening. Thank you for the prompt though! This was definitely a favourite, thank you! Apologies again :)

#marvel #mcu #tickle community #m-verse #tony x reader #steve x reader #peter x reader #steve Rogers #steve #stark #wanda maximoff #avengers #y/n #sfw tickles

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forasecondtherewedwon · 3 years

Photo

Never a Gull Moment

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes Rating: T Word Count: 3523

For @yavannie, who wanted Sam to either gain new powers or carry Bucky through the air. Spoiler, I went with both. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: Sam’s had an intense first week as Captain America. The perfect opportunity for a break arises when Joaquín contacts him, offering new programming for his suit. All he needs to test the tech are the beach, birds, and one uncooperative bonehead Sam didn’t manage to leave behind in New York.

If there’s one skill Sam’s hoping to adopt from his predecessor—Steve, not Walker (sweet Jesus, not Walker)—it’s the ability to end a conversation with a humble handwave before it can even begin. Steve always had that in the bag. Leading with the wrist in a flick of the hand that came across as both sheepish and respectful. Like he’d love to stop and talk with that fan or this journalist but he was just too busy. And not rude busy, busy with a quiet nobility. Anyway, it all came across in the wave.

Sam hasn’t nailed the wave.

Four days after the GRC vote-that-wasn’t, he’s still in New York, bouncing between TV appearances; everybody wants a piece of the new Cap. Sam wishes they asked a little more about his opinions on compassion for the displaced, as well as those who survived the Snap to form new, functional communities, and less about the look of his new suit, but isn’t it always a battle between style and substance? At least people are listening. To everything except the look Sam knows he has in his eyes, the one that says this debut has been a lot and he’s longing for home.

He knows he has to nail this aspect of being Captain America too. Unfortunately, chuckling amiably with morning show hosts isn’t doing a hell of a lot to distract him from what it took to get him here. There are seconds where his attention wavers—he’ll be nodding along to whatever someone’s saying, or letting his gaze follow a bike courier down the street instead of staying trained on the camera the roving reporter has set up on the sidewalk—and that’s when Karli hurtles into his mind. He feels her desperate blows vibrating the shield, the weight of her body in his arms, in her death.

He can’t keep sitting behind desks or posing impressively and trying to answer the hard questions (on the rare occasion they’re asked) after he’s told people he’s not the expert. When Torres calls up, it’s the close-enough-to-official reason Sam’s been waiting for to step back and do something that actually feels useful.

Bucky, who’s been skulking behind the scenes, somehow never pulled into interviews (if he knows the deferring wave and he’s been doing it just outside Sam’s sightline all week, Sam’s gonna kill him), sticks with him. They head south to meet Torres, and at least that feels like the right direction. Homeward bound. Of course, they stop a handful of states before Louisiana and hug the east coast, but it’s an improvement. They meet Torres at… the beach.

He’s got his foot propped in the open doorframe of a Humvee, giving Sam and Bucky a big, eager, whole-arm wave as they pull up. Not like they’re gonna miss him; Torres is in the only vehicle parked halfway down an unpaved road. Sand dunes climb steep and high just feet from his front bumper, an informal path cutting between the dunes and leading to the water, though Sam can’t see that from this vantage.

Torres’s hand is somehow already grasping Sam’s in a pumping, congratulatory shake before he’s fully out of the car. Sam hears Bucky’s soft snort of suppressed laughter and shoots him a look across the seats. Bucky raises his palms, but Sam spots his smirk before they’re both slamming their doors and stretching their legs after the drive.

“Traffic?” Torres asks brightly.

“Nah,” Bucky answers, coming around the back of their ride. “Sam just drives slower than my grandmother and she—”

“Died on the Titanic?” Sam guesses dryly.

Bucky’s flat stare could be saying a lot of things, or nothing. Sam feels as if he’s been a student of the language of Bucky’s stare for a while now, but his comprehension is still rudimentary. Pop that asshole in a sanctuary for rehabilitated brain-washees, have somebody study his behaviour like Jane Goodall studies chimpanzees, and they might get some answers. The idea starts as something funny Sam almost shares, but then he imagines handfeeding Bucky a banana and it gets weird. He keeps his mouth shut.

“Or she got the cryo treatment too and she’s kickin’ around someplace, speakin’ Russian and makin’ headshots.”

“Come on, man, Hydra jokes about your own grandmother?” Sam scoffs. “That’s not even a little bit funny.”

Torres’s expression is like a kid watching a wrestling match on TV—awed, alarmed, reluctant to question what’s real because he’s just enjoying the show.

Bucky cracks a slow smile and Sam rolls his eyes, slapping Torres’s shoulder to get him to head towards the Humvee and the reason they’re here.

“Nana woulda thought it was funny,” Bucky assures them.

“Nana?”

“Lemme guess… You called your aunt ‘TT,’ so your grandmother’s probably… ‘GG,’ am I right?”

Sam glares at him (because his guess is correct and he’s a pain in the ass) and turns fully to Torres as he opens the back, revealing a large case.

“You were vague on the phone,” Sam recalls, watching Torres tug the case close before undoing the clasps. Bucky leans against the vehicle as he observes, dark pants picking up a swipe of road dust from the dirty taillight. “Something about an update for the suit?”

“Right,” Torres agrees.

He throws the case open to reveal the wings Sam gifted him. They’ve been repaired and Sam automatically strokes a hand over the gleaming, extended metal. If Torres did this himself, he sure worked fast.

“That duffle bag wasn’t good enough for you?” Sam asks jokingly, remembering his gear broken and jumbled, fit to be dragged out with the trash.

“They’re kind my prized possession,” Torres admits. “I thought they deserved to be kept nice.”

“You might even wanna put ’em on sometime.”

“I’m working up to that.” Torres laughs. “I wanted to make sure they were in working order before I jumped off a building.”

“Or out of the back of a plane without a parachute, right, Buck?” Sam asks, smacking the back of his hand into Bucky’s chest.

“I was fine,” Bucky insists.

“Sure you were. We can watch the footage again. I’m up for that.”

“Just let the man finish.”

Torres grants Bucky a wide smile in thanks.

“Yeah,” he picks up, “so I was fixing them, working on the wiring, and when I got the electronics running smoothly again, I started thinking about Redwing—”

“May he rest in pieces,” Bucky contributes.

“Uncalled for,” Sam complains.

“I replaced it, didn’t I?”

“The Wakandans replaced it.”

“As a favour to me.”

Torres’s gaze dances between them until Sam motions for him to continue.

“About Redwing,” Torres goes on enthusiastically. “The sophistication of the relationship between you, how intuitive the tech was. How Redwing understood not just simply-stated commands, but a more conversational approach, interpreting your intentions.”

“Finally, a little Redwing appreciation,” Sam says. He crosses his arms and gives Bucky a meaningful look.

“But what if it was a real bird?” Torres blurts.

Most of a minute passes as Sam stares at Torres’s excited expression.

“I think I might get where Torres is going with this,” Bucky says.

Sam holds up a hand to pause him. He could make a guess at it too, but there’s no need for that. They have the source of whatever alterations have been made right here.

“In your own words, Joaquín,” Sam encourages.

“Well,” he begins, one palm braced in the bed of the Humvee as he leans over the case with unconscious protectiveness, “you know I’ve kinda been itching to get my hands on the wings for a long time.”

“Yeah.” Sam laughs, remembering having to practically slap Torres’s hands away from the jetpack in Tunisia.

“Since you gave them to me a couple weeks ago, I’ve been tinkering, like I said, and I had this idea. Now,” he warns, raising both hands in caution, “this might be either really obvious or really disrespectful to the whole concept of the Falcon, but I started wondering if it’d be possible for the person wearing the wings to talk to nearby birds. Use them like a resource, like with Redwing.”

“Black Panther dresses like a cat with Vibranium claws.”

“Spider-Man has webs,” Bucky adds.

“Right,” Sam agrees, nodding to him before looking back to Torres. “I don’t think it’s disrespectful to lean into the gimmick if it’s amplifying your abilities.”

“Awesome,” Torres pronounces.

“I assume you went further than just wondering about it?”

Torres gives them a modest shrug.

“I know a guy who knows an ornithologist.”

“Bird scientist,” Bucky translates.

Turning his head, Sam glances at Bucky with a no shit look.

“Thanks,” he says insincerely.

“You’re welcome.”

“Long story short,” Torres pipes up, “she got me access to a catalogue of bird calls and the scientific consensus on what they all mean. I patched that info into the suit and, hopefully, it’s something that could be used, uh, on the fly. Sorry, I was trying to think of another way to say that.”

“So my suit would be able to communicate with birds?” Sam checks. “Automatically?”

“Yeah, it would assess your surroundings the same way Redwing does already, but scanning for birds, identifying what kind they are, and having the interpretation of their calls at the ready if needed.”

“What sort of information would I be gaining with this tech?”

“Stuff like… are they feeling threatened or disturbed? Does something feel off about their environment that has something to do with somebody you’re maybe chasing?”

“Mating rituals,” Bucky says.

“How is being able to recognize mating rituals going to help me?” Sam demands.

“You never know.”

“You brought your suit, right?” Torres wants to know. Apparently, he’s not going to bother engaging with Bucky’s nonsense. “It won’t take long for me to install the new software.”

“It’s in the back,” Sam assures him, jerking a thumb towards the other vehicle.

“Great!”

“But just the bird calls. This suit is brand new. No tinkering.”

“No tinkering,” Torres swears.

He sets up his impromptu workshop in the back seat, next to the suit. Sam has to admit to himself that Torres’s reverential expression as he handles the Captain America suit is pretty flattering. He watches the progress until Torres sits back, stating it’ll just be a few minutes for the new programming to be assimilated.

“Why the beach?” Sam asks while they wait.

“I was inspired by some shaky, far-away footage of you in New York. You did, uh, kind of a nosedive into the river there, so I thought maybe you’d be interested in testing your suit’s maneuverability in water at the same time as we did a trial with the bird calls.”

“Are we running a drill or something?” Bucky wonders.

“That’s a good idea,” Torres says immediately. “A scenario to use both the calls and the water.”

“You got something in mind?”

Sam isn’t the one who asks because he can see from Torres’s face that he does. Fortunately, he is the one who gets to laugh when the Lieutenant squints consideringly at Bucky and asks, “How long can you hold your breath?”

—

The last Sam sees of Bucky, he’s taking off his shirt.

“Oh, entire jacket this time?” Torres asked when Bucky took that off first.

After that, it was his shoes and socks, then his t-shirt, and this whole Bucky stripping thing isn’t so much a last look as something that Sam has to stand there witnessing for a while. He’s already in the Cap suit and, seriously, Bucky could’ve changed at the same time. Then, he would’ve been ready to go without making Sam and Torres wait around. But Sam wouldn’t have gotten to see him undress.

“Hurry it up, man.” His voice is a little off because, at the same time, he’s thinking, Please don’t take your pants off.

“If you’re making me play a drowning victim, I can at least not be getting weighed down,” Bucky argues. “This is to help you, right? Quit complaining.”

Finally, he stalks away, mounting the dune in black jeans and a half-assed scowl and disappearing over the top. The plan is for him to swim out, then duck under the water when Torres tells him to (the guy’s brought along waterproof earpieces for the purpose). Next, Sam will fly up and search for the ‘victim,’ relying solely on input from the seagulls wheeling lazily overhead. It’s a good exercise Torres has cooked up.

Sam hands the shield off to Torres for safekeeping before the Lieutenant heads to the beach. The shield won’t be necessary for this and there’s no way in hell Sam’s leaving it in the car. Besides, it’s kinda funny how wide Torres’s eyes go when Sam offers it up. Even bigger reaction than leaving him the wings, though this he doesn’t get to keep.

“On my signal,” Torres restates.

Sam gives him a sharp nod.

Once he’s alone, he paces between the vehicles, eager to kick off the ground. He hasn’t had an opportunity to just enjoy himself in the new suit yet. Leading up to the confrontation with the Flag-Smashers (and Georges Batroc, that fists-of-steel bastard), he was in training mode, focused and determined. In the media-heavy days that followed, he conceded to a few stunts for the camera. Those hadn’t been purely fun though; they were actually something Sam had to think quick and hard about, ultimately deciding that it wasn’t just performing on command but rather giving the public a lighthearted look at their new Captain America. Testing new tech with Bucky, Torres, and a bunch of seagulls? That seems like it’ll actually be a good time.

The instant Torres’s voice in Sam’s ear says, “Bucky’s under,” he unfurls the wings and sails up over the crest of the dune.

It’s not the warmest day and the greenish-blue water’s choppy near the shore, but there is a surprising smattering of people along a quarter mile of beach. Must be locals, Sam guesses, trekking down to the water from nearby houses. That would explain the lack of other cars where he parked. The people aren’t that close or that bothered by his sudden appearance overhead. Startled, sure, but after they’ve identified him (he sees a few hands lifted to foreheads to block out the sun so they can get a good look), he gets to return a couple big waves. Besides that, nobody’s getting to their feet to pound sand and swarm Torres, who’s conspicuously there with Sam—he is holding the shield, after all. Pretty typical. The bigger the crowd, the greater the chance of people scrambling for his attention and/or whipping out their phones to film him. This group seems satisfied with watching Captain America hanging out at their beach on his downtime and Sam appreciates them for that.

“No scanning the water,” Torres says in his ear. Sam laughs.

“I’m not, just assessing our audience here.”

“Is this a bad spot? I didn’t think anybody’d be around when I sent you my location, but—”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry. Did anybody ask you what was up when Bucky waded out into the water?”

“Nah. If they were wondering, they probably aren’t anymore.”

“Glad I won’t have to compete with a lifeguard to rescue him,” Sam jokes.

He hears Torres’s short laugh of agreement before focusing. Not on the water at all, but the birds. Those down on the sand are squawking for food, comfortable enough with these people to complain loudly in the hopes of being fed.

Sam’s sudden swoops scatter the gulls in the air, so he tries easier circles, mimicking their movements to hover high above the beach. Soon enough—these guys either have bad short-term memories or no patience—they start communicating with each other. The new programming Torres has uploaded to his suit signals to Sam that the birds are aware of a disturbance in the water. He gets a target on his goggles’ imaging and dives.

Sucking in a deep breath, Sam crashes into the murky water no more than a hundred yards out. The drop-off is dramatic enough for him to not complete a faceplant into a shallow bottom. Bucky’s treading water a couple body-lengths down, but he wrecks his form to offer Sam a raised middle finger in greeting. Sam’s wings retract as he grabs Bucky’s wrist to haul him to the surface.

They breathe, bobbing in place.

“Thought you’d be faster,” Bucky says.

“You didn’t drown, did you?” Sam points out. “Come on.”

He catches hold of Bucky’s hand and shoots out of the water, wings opening in the air to carry him once the thruster’s done its work. But Bucky squirms below him, their wet grip twisting precariously. Water runs from his sopping jeans.

“What the hell are you doing?” Sam asks.

“I don’t want to be carried to shore!”

“Why?”

“Because dangling this high above the ground feels a little weird to me! Not all of us do this every day!”

“I guess we could run the exercise again.”

“Fine. Let’s do that. Just drop me.”

Sam rewards Bucky’s melodrama by abruptly releasing his grip. Hey, that’s what the idiot asked for, and if he can fall out of a plane to the forest floor, he can plunge into water. It’s not like Sam’s up at aircraft cruising altitude, just high enough to make Torres look like a little action figure army man, standing on the sand in his fatigues.

“Running it again?” Torres wants to know.

“Yep,” Sam tells him, accelerating away from the shore. “Just giving that dumbass time to swim to a new spot.”

“Even though he can’t reply while he’s underwater… you know he can hear you in the comms, right?”

“Oh yeah.”

When Torres lets him know that Bucky’s gone under a second time, they start the drill again. Once more, Sam does a gliding approach to the seagulls. Once more, they go quiet before filling the air with their screaming, overlapping calls. Once more, Sam finds Bucky. He knows he’s quicker this time, so he’s expecting an acknowledgement of that when he contracts the wings, straightens his body, and plummets into the water feetfirst next to where Bucky’s floating below the surface.

Instead of an appreciative nod, an outstretched hand, or even a thumbs up, Bucky darts away from him. Is he trying not to get rescued? Now he’s just fucking up the exercise. Only, Sam can’t even berate him, because he’s still under too, holding his breath as he swims after Bucky. He uses the jetpack for assistance, but Bucky’s a fast swimmer, legs kicking just ahead of Sam. Goddamn human shark.

Because he is not an idiot, Sam surfaces to catch his breath, leaving Bucky somewhere below.

“There a problem?” Torres asks.

“Only with Bucky’s idea of teamwork.”

“Get him like a bird would!”

“Is that a real suggestion?” Sam asks, rising and falling as a small wave swells under him, rolling towards the shore.

“Really, Sam! You know, like how birds hunt fish.” Back on the beach, he makes a sharp, downward gesture with his arm that has Sam chuckling. He gets what Torres means though.

“Alright.”

Sam goes from water to air, then, alerted by a trio of seagulls taking annoyed flight from the surface of the water, goes into a steep dive. Nabbing the swimmer from above is the trick, he learns, when the swimmer is being intentionally uncooperative with the rescue attempt. Bucky might be quick when he knows Sam’s behind him, but when he drops down on him, there’s nowhere Bucky can go. Sam wraps his arms around Bucky’s bare chest from behind and lugs him up for air.

The first thing Bucky says is, “You took even longer that time.”

Frustrated, Sam splashes the back of his head, but when Bucky strokes his arms out, rotating to face him, he’s smiling.

“You messed it up,” Sam accuses. He rubs a hand across his goggles to smear the water droplets off.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t have fun.”

Sam narrows his eyes before a laugh bursts out of him. He can’t help it; it’s the pressure he’s been under, so much internal conflict, suddenly drawn out with the current. Yeah, Bucky was slightly uncooperative, but that’s nothing unusual. Swimming ahead like he was going for a gold medal or forcing Sam to plunge deep after him, the two of them suspended like the goddamn Shape of Water before Sam towed him to the surface—either way, Bucky definitely gave him distinct scenarios to work with. Sam can’t say he doesn’t feel more comfortable now that he’s had some practice. More comfortable with his wings in the water, with working with his feathered allies. With Bucky.

“Still don’t want a lift?” Sam checks.

Bucky’s expression hardens and Sam backs off with a laugh.

“See you on the shore,” Bucky states firmly.

“Alright. Get doggy-paddlin’, White Wolf.”

Sam feels Bucky’s hand shoot out to seize his ankle in retaliation as he launches out of the water, but he’s too slow. Sam’s wings fan wide as he flies up, up, up with the birds.

#my writing #tfatws #The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #CAPTAIN AMERICA AND THE WINTER SOLDIER #Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #Joaquin Torres #sambucky #Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes

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butteraway · 3 years

Text

when time runs out | v

⋆ summary: A young girl has fallen deeply ill with an unknown disease in her, so with all her free time spent in an empty hospital room, she spends it online playing video games. That's until she meets her cousins friends, one spiking her interest with his extremely vulgare language.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 6.3k

warnings: none

authors note: HERE IT IS!! A whopping 6k chapter can you believe this lol :’) I plan on making the chapters this long, so that means it’ll take a little longer for me to write,,, But enjoy this guys!

Y/N was laying on her bed, twirling the bottle of pills that captivated her interest. Sitting up, she slowly opened the cap and took a pill out. She examined it, liking how the yellow and green color meshed together. The pills didn't look like anything special, just your basic average pill.

Her conversation with doc was a bit unnerving though to say the least. The doctor was acting a bit off if you asked her. ______________________

Y/N looked at Receen with uncertainty painting her face. What was the meaning of this? Was it really possible for her if she took these pills? He wouldn't try to kill her? They've known each other for almost two years, so he wouldn't try anything.

Right?

"C'mon Y/N, you trust me right? You can see your family again, just take them!" Doctor Receen urged the girl with an enthusiastic smile. Though the look in his eyes seemed a bit desperate for her to take them. Weird.

"Say, Doc, I don't wanna sound ungrateful or anything, but-" she was cut off by a soft laugh. It sounded more forced.

"Y/N, there's nothing to worry about! You had professionals work and conduct these small things! Here! Just take them and think about it!" Receen tossed the bottle to Y/N, who barely caught it with both hands. "I'll have someone bring in some fresh clothes just in case you do want to try these things out.”

And just like that he was out the door. ______________________

Y/N scratched the back of her neck as she put the pill back in the bottle, wondering why the doctor was pushy with her taking them. Her eyes wandered around the room until they landed on the new pile of clothes sitting on the edge of her bed. A kind lady bought it a short while ago, giving her a small smile before leaving.

Though, Y/N decided she'd play a game before calling her parents to tell them the wonderful news. It still felt odd for her to just get pills for her sickness right then and there. Even if it wasn’t a permanent solution. She wasn't even informed about the making of her medicine, despite what Receen had told her. All that she knew was that they were trying to keep her alive. Turning on her console and taking her controller, she glanced at the bottle. She didn't close it of course, wanting to see that they were actually real.

Putting on her headphones, she put on Fortnite and waited for other players to join. She really hated this game, but it was hilarious to see people rage. Seeing someone join, she tried to talk to them, but got no response. Briefly closing her eyes for a few seconds, she snapped them open after hearing a familiar gruff voice. King Explosion Murder!

"We better win this or I'll look for all of you and kill you." That was literally the first thing the dude said as the game began. Y/N let out an awkward chuckle, a sweat drop appearing on her forehead. This'll be interesting. She cleared her throat, slightly catching the attention of ‘Explosion Murder'.

"Hey! Do you remember me? We played together a few nights ago, with this other guy called Tape Dispenser on OverWatch!" Y/N decided to take a friendly approach, trying not to blow a fuse with this guy. I do not wanna be on this guy's bad side again. Silence filled the air, making Y/N feel slightly uncomfortable.

"Who the fuck are you?" Said girl nearly choked on her spit as she doubled over. She began shooting at random people as the game began, taking them down and moving with her small team. She once again felt her eyebrow twitch.

"What do you mean 'who are you?' Y/N asked, lowering her voice to mimic Murder's voice. She made her character shoot a person in front of her. Headshot!

"I have no idea who the hell you are, so shut the hell up!" Murder's voice rang through her ear as she winced at the volume. So loud! Her other teammate was shot down and killed, making Y/N sigh.

"You sure dude? I'm the one who almost won the game, but like, died at the very end?" Y/N didn't even know why she was even trying to talk to this guy. She just felt like she wanted to know him better. Or her. Could be a girl with a really deep voice? Murder was quiet before a growl like grunt was heard.

"So you're the damn girl who did that." Murder's voice was low and Y/N didn't know whether or not to feel scared for herself. "Haha! Yeah, that was me." She awkwardly laughed, not sure if he was going to blow a fuse because of that.

Murder was quiet, with the exception of his breathing being heard through her headphones. Y/N just came to the conclusion that Murder was, in fact, a dude. She didn't want to believe that a girl had that deep of a voice. It was possible, she thought, though she couldn't picture a female with that voice. She'd die if she did. The thought made her stifle a laugh.

"The fuck you laughing about?!" Y/N looked at his kill counts and her eyes widened. 7 already?! Goddamn! She looked at her own and only saw three. "Well aren't you curious now?" Murder let out a huff, as if he were trying to contain his inner rage. "I was asking for a goddamn reason."

Y/N swore she could feel his irritation through the screen. The two met up and began to continue to go to the middle of the map. 6 kills. Cool! She once again looked at Murder's kills and felt her confidence deflate once again. Way to make me depressed dude. As she was shooting a player, Y/N looked at the kill feed and almost spit everywhere.

"MOTHER FUCKING FUCKER!" This dude exploded, and by the noise, she assumed he threw his chair. This dude! Suddenly, an idea came in her, oh so beautiful, head. "Yo yo yo, bro! I gotta deal!" This caught Murder's attention as he let out an aggressive 'What.’ She smiled wide as she continued to play the game, knocking down and killing another player.

"I carry the team and win, you accept my friend request!"

"What if you don't win, huh?" That's what Y/N was scared of. She let out a defeated sigh and surrendered. "I'll give you the most rare skin I own." There was silence as she took some damage from another player.

"Which is what?" She swallowed and opened her mouth. "It's the skin that was only given to 5 players from the event last year."

"Deal." He said it so fast that Y/N was actually scared to give him it. But she always kept her word. Looking to see how much other players were left, she felt her heart speed up. Why am I freaking doing this?! The girl continued to focus on the game at hand and began skillfully killing the other players. She got hit a few times, but never went down. When it was finally one player left, besides herself, she began to be cautious. At last, she took down the final player and yelled out in joy!

"Oh yeah! Now that's what I'm talking about baby! Sweet sweet victory!" Y/N cheered while throwing her hands up in the air and slightly jumping on her bed. She had no idea why she was even this excited to win. Maybe it's cuz I like him. Y/N stopped mid cheer, before she burst out with laughter as she wondered why she even thought that. She doesn't even know the guy!

"Well, looks like you're gonna have to accept me!" Murder let out a couple of grumbles and snide comments as he accepted her request that she sent. "It was only fucking luck. Don't get too cocky."

Y/N gave a toothy smile that he couldn't see and giggled. "Whatever helps you sleep at night." The small girl looked at the time and decided this was enough for the day. "Well Mr. Explody, I gotta go! It was cool playing with you!"

"Yeah yeah, whatever. Get off now, you're starting to piss me off." Y/N laughed at his sour attitude and decided to fuel the flame some more.

"Y'know, you should work on your gaming. You suck." The girl quickly got off the game and turned off her console, but not without hearing him yell at her. The smile never left her face as she fell on her back and looked at the ceiling. Gosh, he's so weird. She continued to replay their interactions before turning her head and looking at the phone. She sighed and sat up.

All her happy feelings went down the drain. Something just didn't feel right with the medicine the doctor gave her. Whatever. It's probably because I always thought I'd be cooped up in this room for the rest of my life. Y/N blinked and walked to the phone and dialed her parents number. She stood anxious, hearing the phone ring and her hands trembling with excitement? Fear? Who knows.

"Hello? Y/N? How are you!" Her mom's cheery voice sounded through the phone and once again, the girl smiled. "Hi Mommy! I'm fine, perfectly fine actually. What about you?" She decided to keep things smooth and simple. The laughter of her mother brought Y/N back to reality.

"Oh Y/N! No need to be so formal! I'm your mother, no need to act like that!" Y/N let out a chuckle and brushed her hair away from her face. "Yeah, sorry Mommy."

"And to answer your question, I am doing amazing!" She let out a hum, letting her mother know she heard. "Well, I have some kind of big and important news. So basically, Doctor Receen made some kind of medicine. For my, y'know, 'sickness.' Crazy right?"

There was a small pause before the cheerful voice of her mother sounded in her ear. "I know! The Doctor had already told your father and I beforehand! I was so ecstatic, and I still am for you-"

"Wait, you already knew? And you didn't tell me?" Y/N’s voice was filled with confusion. Why didn’t mom tell me? Was she keeping it a secret? Did she try hiding it from me? Was she ever going to-

“Well I wanted it to be a surprise for you from the doctor!” Said the older woman happily, leaving Y/N to feel embarrassed. She let out a small ‘Oh’, and rubbed her neck. Why did she even think her mother wouldn’t tell her something so important? Shaking her head, Y/N continued.

“Well thank you! I’m still, uh, just still a little skeptical of the pills. I’m not sure if they are actually going to work…” The clear doubt was heard in the girl’s voice. Her mother furrowed her eyebrows.

“But sweetie! Of course they’re going to work! I would’ve thought you’d be more excited about this!” Glancing up to look at the bottle, Y/N could only let out a short ‘yeah.’

“So when will you be coming! Your dad and I agreed that we would pick you up after you took one of the pills, so you could come home for a while!” Her mother’s voice continued to rant off about what they were going to do when she came back home. While the voice continued, Y/N drifted off into her head.

How am I going to tell Denki this? Should I like, surprise him when he comes back from school? Hmm, I swear if he cries, I think I will too-

“Y/N! Y/N honey are you there?” Zooming back into reality, she let out a chuckle from her mother’s worried voice.

“Yeah mom, sorry. I was just thinking about some things.” M/N hummed in understanding. It grew quiet quick, but soon was filled with Y/N’s sweet voice. “I think I’ll take the pill on Friday mommy. You can come pick me up at around three. This gives you some time to prepare for everything, heh.”

Her mother let out loud cheers, happy that she will be able to see her daughter face to face again. It’s been so long since she had last seen Y/N, not being able to take it, seeing her child confined in a spacious room.

The two talked for a short moment more until they decided to hang up. Placing down the phone, Y/N sighed. Dragging herself and the IV back to her bed, she sat in silence. Who knows how long she stayed in that position, all that she knows is that she was snapped out of her daze after a brief knock to her door. She hummed, loud enough for the person to hear. Opening the door, the woman walked in, boots squeaking against the clean floor. The short spray in the air filled the silence as the doctor walked over to Y/N’s IV bag.

Watching her check and adjust the fluid bag, Y/N’s big eyes snapped to the doctor’s face when she began speaking. “You’ve been moving a lot. The needle is off center from where it’s supposed to be.”

As she said that, the girl felt a slight pinch on her arm and saw the doctor putting the needle back into its rightful place. Satisfied with the placement of the needle, she hummed in acceptance and patted Y/N’s arm with her gloved hand. Moving her arm around to get used to the feeling of it back inside her body, Y/N wondered when it had fallen out. Huh, I didn’t even notice.

Feeling the need to fill the silence, Y/N spoke. “Well, today was an exciting day, haha. Received amazing news and had a wonderful conversation with my mom.” Y/N chuckled in false amusement, but the doctor could only narrow her eyes at the small girl. “Mm, you sound so excited, I could tell when I first walked in here.”

Now Y/N did laugh at that. Who knew the scary doctor lady could go along with her sarcasm! With now gleaming eyes, the excitement was now visible in her eyes. Now that she knew the doctor was ‘nice’, she definitely was going to have fun talking with this doctor. Seeing as she turned around and went to head towards the door, Y/N was quick to stop her.

“Hey! What’s your name?” The doctor’s eyes widened in shock and turned fully to the girl who had now stood up.

“What do you mean ‘what’s your name?’ I’ve been one of your main doctors for two years!” The woman exclaimed in exasperation, unbelieving of the situation she was just put in. Y/N could only weakly shrug.

“Sorry about that! I just, uh, like was too nervous around you to remember your name?” As pathetic as the excuse was, she was telling the truth! I am so sorry Ms. Doctor! The older woman could only shake her head in amusement.

“My name is Doctor Shuzenji Kumiko, but call me Doctor Kumiko. Now you better remember that, this will be the last time I tell you my name.” Y/N nodded her head with such affirmation, Doctor Kumiko thought the child would accidentally hurt herself. And right now she did not need that happening. While she shook her head though, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a strike of familiarity at her name. But what about it is familiar? Cranking every gear in her head, she failed to notice Doctor Kumiko looking around the room.

Doctor Kumiko was never able to get a proper look around the sick girl’s room, seeing as her mission was to go in, check if Y/N was ok, and then get out. Though she immediately noticed how empty her room was. Only one big bed, a flat screen tv perched on a small table, and the medical equipment were all that occupied the room. Though now that she started paying more attention, the room was a different color. Bland white walls were now full of a bright color, something not too dark, but not too eye bleeding. It was a nice appealing color that suited the girl standing in front of her. That’s when Doctor Kumiko’s eyes landed on the small table next to the grand bed. They slightly widened as they caught eyesight on the small bottle.

“I can’t believe he gave them to her.” Kumiko hissed silently just as Y/N snapped her fingers. Staring at the doctor, she tilted her head.

“Did you say something?”

“Huh? Oh no, it’s nothing! Just remembering something is all!” Doctor Kumiko rubbed her neck, putting the momentary problem in the back of her head for now. Y/N shrugged her shoulders, curiously looking at the doctor in front of her. Clearing her throat, the doctor shifted the focus off herself.

“So were you going to say something?” Slowly fiddling with her gloved hands, the Doctor could only sigh in relief as Y/N eyes popped open quickly.

“AH YES!” Y/N quickly wobbled to the doctor forgetting to take the IV that weighed her down with her. The doctor let out a small gasp, stepping behind the girl and rolling it next to Y/N who didn’t pay any attention to that.

“I finally recognize where I heard that last name from! And no, I didn’t just remember your name you supposedly told me before.” The lady’s sharp eyes rolled, letting her continue.

“RECOVERY GIRL HAS THE SAME SURNAME! ISN’T THAT INSANE?! I HONESTLY FIND THAT SO COOL! I wish I had the same name as a famous person, oooo like All Might’s name, or or even Endeavor’s!” Doctor Kumiko cringed at the sound of Endeavor’s name but paid no mind to that. Right now she had to deal with a hero fangirl. Just then Y/N abruptly stopped her rapid talking, moving closer to Doctor Kumiko’s face.

“Wait. Are you like-” Y/N looked around the room as if there was someone else watching them. When she was done, she leaned closer to the doctor’s protected head and whispered the following words. “Are you Recovery Girl’s daughter?” The woman could only sigh and stared into the girl’s shining eyes. When Y/N got no response she determined her answer by herself.

“Oh my gOSH!!! WAIT LIKE FOR REAL?! LIKE YOU’RE ACTUALLY HER DAUGHTER?? YOU LOOK A LITTLE YOUNG TO BE HER DAUGHTER BUT I’M NOT COMPLAINING! WOW THIS IS SO CRAZY, ALL THIS TIME YOU WALKED IN HERE AND I HAD NO IDEA WHO YOU ACTUALLY WERE!! I HAVE TO TELL DENKI HE’S GONNA FREAK OUT-” Doctor Kumiko bellowed a laugh so grand it had Y/N laughing along as well. After attempting to wipe away her tears soon realizing she couldn’t due to her helmet, she let out more bubbly laughs.

“Aahhh, you’re pure gold!! I can see why Receen likes you!” She smiled brightly down towards Y/N who gave her a beaming grin of her own in return. “But yes! You’re right, though not entirely.”

Y/N trying to keep up with Doctor Kumiko’s pace to her bed, they both sat down and got comfortable. “Since you basically found out my family tree, to answer your question fully, I am related to Recovery Girl. I’m not her daughter, but her granddaughter instead.”

The small girl’s eyes widened in shock. No way. She actually met someone who’s related to one of the greatest heroes of all time. Don’t fight her on this, she knows what she’s talking about. As she stared at the doctor with such admiration, Kumiko could only give her a weak smile. She knew what the next question would be. Her answer would always leave people with disappointment.

“Wait! Does that mean that you have a similar quirk to Recovery Girl? After two generations, wouldn’t your quirk be more evolved at this point? Or do you have a mixture of both your parents quirk, seeing as your mom could’ve inherited some of Recovery Girl’s quirk or something like that!” Doctor Kumiko only shook her head leaving Y/N confused.

“Then did you get a quirk similar to your dads?” Once again shaking her head no, Y/N was beyond confused. Until a thought passed through her head.

“Are you… are you quirkless?” Y/N didn’t really consider a descendant from a nationwide known hero to be quirkless. It’s possible, but very unlikely. After all, only 20 percent of people in the world aren’t born with quirks. Me included. Y/N’s eyebrow twitched at the truth of her thought train. Once again though, the doctor shook her head and went to explain to the young girl.

“I do have a quirk, so that’s not the problem. The problem lies in how efficient my quirk is.” Y/N listened intently, ready to store this useful information in her memory. Ohoho Denki is gonna be sooo jealous, heheh. “My quirk is actually quite weak compared to my grandmother.”

“My mother was born quirkless, meaning that when she had me, many doctors had thought I would be too. But instead, I got a similar quirk to my grandmother. Since my mother had direct DNA from her, part of that DNA was transferred to me, to her granddaughter. Everyone was ecstatic to learn I had gotten a quirk similar to my grandmother, some even thought my quirk would be even greater than hers.

“But alas, I was handed the remains of the quirk from my mother, so I only proved to have a much much weaker quirk compared to Recovery Girl.” Soaking up the information, Y/N looked to Doctor Kumiko. Despite sharing not so amazing information, she didn’t seem to be too bothered by sharing it. In fact, she looked perfectly fine!

“I’ve come to terms that my quirk will always be a weak one, but that doesn’t stop me from using it all. I help as best as I could, using my quirk to help young children when they scrape their knees, and just replenishing as much energy into those who need it the most. I think the biggest wound I’ve healed was a large burn! I was so proud of myself, but I was just so exhausted! So I mostly conserve energy when I need to.”

Y/N nodded, happy that the doctor was sharing so much with her. She didn’t care if it was ‘improper’ or something, she was just glad to be able to talk to someone who wasn’t Receen or Denki.

“You seem quite happy with what you do. How much people have you helped?” Y/N smiled happily at the doctor. “ I’ve helped so many people. And just with my quirk!” Sighing happily, Doctor Kumiko got up and headed towards the door.

“Do you visit Recovery Girl often?” Y/N had a small favor she would like to ask the doctor, though she needed to make sure she was able to do it first.

“Of course, she is my grandmother after all. She would spam call me if I hadn’t visited her in over a week.” Doctor Kumiko deadpanned at the thought of that, having experienced that before. Y/N giggled at the thought, phone constantly ringing for who knows how long!

“Makes me deliver her food too if she forgot it. That lady is too much work sometimes.” The doctor rubbed her head, a headache already rolling in at the thought of all the things her grandmother makes her do.

‘Well since you see and visit her~” Y/N smiled sweetly at the woman looking at her with suspicious eyes. “Then that means you have access to the U.A. building!” Now Kumiko was narrowing her eyes at the girl at this point.

“Yes, I’m also a helper at the school too. What cards are you playing right now Ms. L/N?” Said girl chuckled mischievously, quickly moving to grab a small note pad in the drawer of her small table. Ripping out a piece of paper and quickly scribbling words on it and folding it, she handed the paper to the doctor who stared at it in confusion.

“GREAT! I need you to deliver this to my cousin that goes to the school! Since you have access to the school, which I don’t know why you didn’t tell me sooner, this makes your little journey for me easier!” Sharp eyes flew from the paper in her hand to the young girl’s face, back to the paper. Sighing, she silently agreed.

“Thank you!!! Ok, so his name is Kaminari Denki and he’s a first year in the hero course! I don’t know which one, but he’s in one of them if he didn’t lie to me.” Chuckling, the doctor nodded and stood up from the bed.

“Well I spent too much time in here. I think it’s been the most since the two years I’ve been checking up on you.” Walking to the door, she paused for a moment, turning around to look at the girl who had sat back down on her bed.

“I’ll be sure to get these to your cousin as soon as possible. Also, I’m sure you’ll be able to help so many people when you’re out of here. But please be careful with those pills. They’re very strong so consume them with caution." And with that, she left, door opening, closing, and the familiar sound of the air purifier turning on.

Chatter filled the classroom in the early morning, the students excited for another day in U.A. Ever since the recent villain attack, many of them were still filled with fear, though their determination to grow stronger overshadowed any negative thoughts. The days passed by since then and many of the young heroes have made it their goal to be stronger than they were before.

Which leads us to a blonde boy with a black lightning streak in his hair, sitting nonchalantly in his chair. He listened to his rambling friend, the red head mentioning something about Crimson Riot, or something like that.

“And ever since then, I always followed his words! He’s my number one inspiration after all-” A grunt was heard next to him, the boys’ eyes turning to the ash blond boy sitting next to them.

“Yeah yeah, we heard this story already, why don’t you talk about something new?” His gruff voice didn’t knock down the red head’s bright mood though, only pushing him to talk more.

“Alright Bakubro, if that’s what you want!” The boy grinned, his sharp teeth on display for everyone to see. And even despite that, no one was very afraid of his appearance, seeing as his personality shone out like the sun outside. “So what did you guys do this weekend? I’ve been training for hours! Ever since U.S.J, I’ll admit, I was still shaken up!”

At the mention of what happened at U.S.J, more people around them joined in on their conversation. “Tell me about it, my parents didn’t want me coming back because of that.”

A few murmured in agreement, everyone now talking about their experiences at home. “You don’t know how long it took me to convince my mom to not call the school. But if anything, I’m still surprised Midoriya is still here. He was at the core of all the attacks!”

Said boy turns red at the mention of that. I mean, his mom was really really worried about him, so he couldn’t really say anything. Scratching the back of his neck, he could only let out a nervous chuckle.

“Yeah, luckily All Might managed to come and save the day!” Excited chatter began to fill the room once again with everyone retelling each other how cool All Might was busting through the doors of U.S.J.. Ururaka jumped in as well, her voice filled with awe.

“Don’t forget how All Might even knew we were in trouble! If it weren’t for Iida speeding his way back to UA, who knows what could’ve happened!” Even more people agreed on that, some of the guys even patting the tall boy on the back. Clearing his throat, and trying to make the blush disappear off his face, Iida fixed his glasses and began talking.

“Well of course I did that, any sane person would have done it. After all it was the right thing to do, especially in our dire situation!”

“Ah there goes Iida humbling himself again!”

“Give yourself some credit dude!”

“It was still super cool how you managed to run that entire distance!”

Covering the raising blush on his face at the rapid compliments with his fist, he spoke once again, the others around him listening to his words. “It would have been more preferable if we were able to contact the school directly, help would’ve come much more quickly then.”

“Oh yeah! Too bad Kaminari couldn’t contact the school though, those villains really knew what they were doing!”

At the mention of his name, Kaminari faced Mina and gave a tight grin. “I didn’t even know that there were people who had quirks that can block out signals!” Some laughed, while others chuckled at the exasperation in the blonde boy's voice. An annoyed sigh cut through their laughter, everyone looking to the blonde spiky haired boy who interrupted their laughing fest. Just as he was about to speak, a knock was heard throughout the class, leaving the boy to grumble to himself as the door slid open.

A tall lady walked in, her straight posture already showing the students she meant business the moment they laid eyes on her. Her long, sleek black hair flowed behind her as she stepped more into the classroom, sharp eyes observing the kids in front of her. Immediately her eyes landed on a boy with narrowed red eyes, noticing he was giving her the stink eye.

Inwardly rolling her eyes at the boy's attitude, she went back to looking at the small crowd in front of her. “Hello, my name is Dr. Kumiko and-”

She was so rudely cut off by a very short boy who stood in front of her, the purple balls on her head making Kumiko furrow her eyebrows. “Are you our substitute? Wow you are gorgeous, has anyone told you that?”

As the boy continued talking, Dr Kumiko could only try and step around him in order to avoid his beady gaze. Cringing slightly, she turned her attention back to the class and watched as they curiously gazed at her. Clearing her throat sharply and loudly, that effectively shut the small boy up.

“First of all, no I am not your substitute, though I am aware you aren’t even getting one. Second of all, before you interrupted me, I was going to say I have a delivery for someone. The other hero class said I would most likely find him in here, since he was not one of their classmates.”

With that being said, murmurs erupted between students, all of them wondering what this delivery could be, that such a beautiful woman was sent to give it to one of the boys.

Looking down at the piece of paper that was folded into an envelope, Doctor Kumiko’s eyes furrowed a little more as she tried remembering the name Y/N gave her. Uh, something like Kamayama? Kamayari? Kama- oh whatever! Straightening up, she decided that she wouldn’t attempt to damage her pride and decided to read what was written on the paper instead.

“Is there anyone who recognizes the phrase ‘electrifying baby, electrifying’? A choked cough sounded throughout the now quiet room, everyone’s eyes trailing to the blonde with a black streak in his hair. Doctor Kumiko wondered if he had dyed his hair like that.

“Uhm I recognize it?” Kaminari was too nervous to even consider how this random lady even knew him and his cousins inside joke. It became a joke when Kaminari had accidentally used his quirk when he got angry at a game both of them were playing. He went into his dumb mode and that was the first thing he said just to show Y/N he was alive. He’s still embarrassed to this day because of his slip up.

“Here you go, I was told to hand this letter to you. I’m sure you know who it is though.” Giving the teenage boy a smirk, the doctor walked closer to him, placing the piece of paper in his palms.

“Alright, since that’s all I needed to do, I’ll head off now. Don’t you give any trouble to your teacher when he arrives.” With a stern voice, Kumiko exited the classroom, sliding the door shut and leaving the students in a stunned silence.

Looking down at the smooth, neatly folded paper in his hands, Kaminari goes to open it with furrowed eyebrows, only to have it snatched from his secured hands.

“Whose this from?! A secret girlfriend we didn’t know about?!!” Inspecting the letter, Mineta’s fingers itched to open the letter himself. No way could Kaminari have a girlfriend! There were better options out there, like him for example! Cue eye roll.

“What?! No of course not dude! Just gimme the letter-” Reaching down to take back the paper, a pink hand stopped him from getting it.

“Kaminari! There’s no need to be shy about it! You know we wouldn’t judge you, no matter how you managed to get a girl to agree to go out with you!” Mina turned around to Hagakure and Tsuyu, the pink girl’s eyes shimmering with delight!

“Wow, do you think this could be one of those romantic letters couples send to each other!” Giggling, Mina and Hagakure began to try and unravel the paper, only to be stopped by another hand delicately taking the paper away.

“Yah! I was going to open that!” Turning around, the pink haired girl faced Aoyama, who looked at the letter with slight curious eyes.

“Did you know Paris is actually known as the city of love? I like to say I’m an expert in that station!” A deafening silence rolled throughout the class, Mina and Mineta deadpanning at what the purple eyed boy said. Quickly jumping towards him, both the students wrestled Aoyama for the letter, making a ruckus around them.

“Hey why are you- Just give me the piece of paper, it’s mine!” Soon joining their hustling, Kaminari rushed to try and retrieve the letter from who he knew was his cousin. Why do they go touching things that aren’t theirs!, Kaminari thought.

Soon, the now wrinkled paper flew away from their little cluster, floating all the way to another students desk. That student's desk being Bakugou’s. Staring hard at the paper that laid on his desk, he drew his hand near it to pick it up. Kaminari began to grow even more worried.

“H-hey Bakugou, uh could you give me my letter?” Kaminari suppressed the urge to shiver as he made eye contact with Bakugou’s piercing red eyes. His gaze then shifted to the small wisps of smoke that began appearing in the hand Bakugou clutched the letter in.

“You idiots are really screaming at each other. Because of a paper?” Adding more to his irritation and annoyance, more smoke began appearing around his hand. Now he was angry at their stupidity.

“C’mon Bakubro, don’t be like that! Just give Kaminari his letter.” Kirishima tried coaxing the angry blonde, but that only seemed to irritate him even more. Planning on just setting the damn paper on fire so his classmates would shut up about the stupid love letter, he clutched it even harder in his hand. Only to have it ripped away from him by something sticky. Glaring at the short black haired boy, Sero quickly yanked the fragile paper towards himself.

Right now, Kaminari was panicking outwardly, rushing towards Sero to cradle the now ruined letter. His annoyance shot up quickly, sending clear glares to the four who wouldn’t give him his letter. Mina, Mineta and Aoyama looked away with guilt painting their faces, while Bakugou growled at Sero. Growled.

“Ugh look at what you guys did I- '' Taking a deep breath in, he allowed himself to cool down. They were just too curious, he told himself. Walking back to his seat, with Sero following him, he sat down and put the delicate paper on his desk. The once smooth paper was now crumbled and burnt around the edges. Resisting the urge to rub his eyes, he turned to Sero once again.

“Thanks bro.”

“No problem.” Their exchange was short, yet Sero knew Kaminari’s words were genuine.

“Sorry about your letter Kaminari, I was just too excited thinking about you having a girlfriend.” Mina awkwardly chuckled, Mineta and Aoyama following in suit with quiet ‘yeah’s’. Giving them a small smile, he waved them off.

“I guess it’s fine. I got excited too. But I don’t have a girlfriend, this letter is from my cousin.” Nodding, she still let out a meek sorry, embarrassed that she got the whole story wrong. Mineta and his words, ugh.

Looking back to Bakugou, said boy could only let out a grunt and look away from Kaminari. Snorting, he turned his attention to the letter and began carefully unfolding the folds that had formed an envelope shape. Kaminari let a smile grace his face. She used to like making origamis. I could never have the patience to fold these kinds of stuff.

After finally opening every fold with utmost delicacy, he squinted his eyes to read what Y/N had written for him. It was hard reading due to some of the paper being burnt and blackened. He managed to read what she wrote though.

Surprise on Friday :)

Kaminari didn’t even have a second to even dwell on what that could mean, jumping slightly in his chair when he heard the door to the classroom slam open. Golden eyes widening, he quickly stuffed the paper into his bag and watched as Aizawa entered the classroom. Those who were standing quickly rushed to their seats to avoid getting called out by the fully casted and bandaged man.

Listening to his teacher’s muffled voice, he reminded himself to ask Y/N what she meant later when he got home. It was very vague, but Kaminari didn’t dwell on the fact too long. After all, he had a full and exhausting day of school ahead of him!

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #mha #bnha #mha angst #bnha fluff #bnha x reader #fanfic

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allaboutthebooz · 3 years

Text

Still Learning Pt. Three

Summary: After having everything stolen from her, the reader meets Bucky and they form a relationship, that works for the both of them. She needs money and he needs the company. There are rules that need to be followed. What will happen when the rules are broken?

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, drinking

A/N: Sorry this has taken so long. Just when I find a groove, it gets knocked off course. But it's finally here and I hope you all enjoy.

After getting your drinks, Bucky decides to get a little invasive. “So, how come you are here by yourself?”

Y/N lets out a small laugh. “I’m not. My friends decided they would rather dance than sit with me while I wallow.” She juts a thumb behind her, point to the small dance floor. Bucky looks past her to see a few people dancing. Most were couples dancing a little too inappropriately, but there were two women dancing together, and he assumes they’re Y/N’s friends.

Turning his gaze back to his company, he gives her a quick look over. Her jean jacket covering her upper body, but he notices her dress. The soft silk material, covered in a combination of blue, red, and orange, clinging to what curves her can see. Her hair down, but half was pulled back into a braid of some sort.

He looks at her face. Not noticing the look behind her eyes, until now. He should have been able to tell that she wasn’t happy. He’d seen the same look on his face, often when he’d look in the mirror. The mask she wore, similar to his.

“Wallow?” He asks.

She nods. “Yeah, I haven’t had the best luck lately.”

“Want to tell me about it? Maybe talking to a stranger will help.”

She shakes her head and huffs. “I doubt it. I’m in deep shit and have no clue what will happen.”

“Maybe I can help?”

She looks at Bucky, silent. He can see her debating what to say.

You’re not sure how long you spent staring at the man next to you. The man who wanted to know what kind of trouble you were in, after only knowing his name for thirty minutes. Looking down at the glass in your hand, you bring it to your lips and take a long sip from it.

“Fuck it. Why not tell it to you. Not like you’ll be able to find me again.” Looking back at Bucky, you see his jaw clench just slightly.

“You never know.” Is all he says. His voice gruff.

You open your mouth to start your story, when you feel two bodies press close to you. Looking to your right, you see Lexie and Deanna standing there. Both focused on Bucky.

“You okay?” Dee asks, her mama bear side starting to show.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure?” You feel Lexie grab a strand of your hair at its end. “Sorry we’ve been ignoring you.”

“No, it’s alright. I was actually thinking of heading home. I’m pretty tired.”

Both girls groan. “You’re supposed to be having fun.” Dee pushes.

You look over at Bucky, giving him a quick smile before turning back to your friends. “You know that’s impossible right now. I can’t focus on having fun when I’m about to lose my apartment. I’m gonna get home so I can get some sleep. I have to edit some photos and have them turned in tomorrow.”

Deanna opens her mouth to respond, but Lex puts a hand on her shoulder. “If that’s what you want to do, that’s fine. We know you have a lot going on right now. We just thought getting you out of the house would help.”

“And I appreciate it, but once everything if normal again, then I can start having fun.”

“Well, we can go. Let’s settle our tab.” Lexie says.

“No, you two stay. You’re actually enjoying yourselves. Don’t let me ruin your fun.”

“Are you sure?” Deanna asks. “We don’t mind.”

“Yeah, stay. I’ll get a cab.” You start to stand. Hugging the girls, they head back to the dance floor. You turn back to Bucky. “It was nice to meet you.”

You notice the panic slightly raise in his face. “Wait. I’ll go with you.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Back to my place? I don’t think that’s such a great idea.”

“No, not there. Why don’t we just walk around for a bit. Maybe see if there are any diners open or something.” He suggests.

You find yourself staring at him again. Your eyes rake over him. His dark hair, his blue eyes. His leather jacket and Henley shirt clinging to his chest. His thick thighs clad in dark blue jeans. Were you going to let this man keep you company? Were you going to open up to him? You probably won’t see him again after tonight and he seems like a nice guy. There was something familiar about him and you weren’t sure that you were ready to say goodbye.

“Okay. But just for a little while I really should get home and edit those photos.”

Bucky smiles wide and follows you out of the bar.

“I know a place that’s open all night. They have great food.” You suggest.

“Lead the way.”

You move down the sidewalk, Bucky beside you with his hands shoved in his jean pockets.

“So, you’re a photographer?” He asks.

“I am. Mostly fashion right now.”

“That’s cool. Anything I might have seen?”

You laugh. “Not unless you read Vogue.”

“No, I can’t say that I have. I really haven’t had time to do a ton of reading. My work keeps me busy.”

“Oh yeah? What do you do?” You ask, looking him over.

He stares at you like you should know who he is and what he does. “Uh I guess you could say that I work with the military.”

“Doing what?”

“Linguistics.”

You make an impressed face. “Sounds interesting.

It’s Bucky’s turn to laugh. “Yeah, I guess it can be.”

You both walk in silence for a while. You can feel Bucky’s urge to finish your conversation that was interrupted.

“You’re still wondering why I wasn’t wanting to stay and have fun, aren’t you? I can feel your curiosity growing.” You smirk at him.

He gives you a shy smile. “Yeah, I am. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I don’t want you to think I’m overstepping.”

You look up at the night sky. The stars barely visible beyond the city lights. Sighing you say, “A month ago, my ex-boyfriend stole every single penny I had to my name. He destroyed my credit. He opened a couple of credit cards in my name and a loan from a bank in my name and never paid them. He disappeared and I haven’t heard from him. The cops haven’t bothered to find him. So I have no money, except what little cash I managed to withdraw before it all happened.”

Bucky stops walking, making you stop too. “Are you shitting me?”

You laugh. “I wish I was.”

“Son of a bitch.” He says, before continuing his stride.”

“Yeah.” You both walk a bit further before you stop in front of a wall full of windows. “This is it.”

He opens the door, allowing you to step inside first as he follows.

After settling into a booth by the windows, you both spend the rest of the night talking. He asked a few more questions and you explained to him that you were pretty much out of a job and would soon lose your home if you didn’t make enough money to pay your rent.

Eventually, you convinced him to move onto a different subject. Before you knew it, the sun was starting to peak from behind the other buildings. When a ray of light blinds you, you squint and look out the window.

“Oh shit. We literally talked all night.”

“I guess we did. I’m sorry. I know you needed to get home.” Bucky apologizes.

“You know what? I’m not even upset. This was way more fun than sitting at my desk in an empty apartment that won’t be mine for long.”

You start to gather your things as Bucky lays a few bills on the table. You both step outside, pulling jackets on. You look at Bucky and wonder what to do next.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye.” You say.

“It doesn’t have to be. I’d like to see you again.”

You bite your bottom lip. “I don’t know. I’d like to see you again, but my life is such a mess right now.”

“It doesn’t have to be. I’d like to help you.”

“How can you do that? You got a ton of money laying around or something?”

“Or something. Why don’t we do this again tonight? I can explain everything then.”

“I don’t know, Bucky.”

“How about this? I’m going to come back here to have more of those delicious pancakes. You can join me and let me help you. I’ll let you decide. I’ll be here at 7. If you show, we’ll talk. If you don’t, I’ll leave you alone.”

He gently leans in and kisses your cheek.

“I hope I see you later.” He hails a cab and opens the door for you, closing it once you’re settled in the backseat and walking the opposite way down the sidewalk.

‘What the hell was that?’ You think.

The taxi dropped you off in front of your building. You hand the driver some cash, telling him to keep the change. The whole drive home, you kept thinking about what he meant by wanting to help you. Did he have a job for you? Did he want you to take some headshots for him? You didn’t know much about him, except that he worked with the military, and he didn’t seem like he was the model or actor type, so headshots were out of the question.

You walked up the stairs to your apartment still pondering why Bucky wanted to help you and how he planned to do it. You get to your floor and move down the hallway, your apartment at the very end with your door facing towards you. You’re almost in front of it when you notice an envelope taped to your door. You peel it off, curious, and stick your key in the door to unlock it.

Stepping through the entrance, you lay your purse on the counter in the kitchen, peel your jean jacket off, and then your shoes. Once you’re somewhat settled, you peel open the letter and pull the piece of paper out of its snug exterior.

‘Y/N,

I hoped you would be home when I came by. I didn't want to do this how it's been done, but I don't have a choice.

I know how tough things have been for you the last month and I've done everything to try and help. You've been a perfect resident. Always paid your rent on time. You've always been nice to everyone here. However, unless you pay your rent by the end of the week, I'm afraid that you will be forced to move out.

I've tried talking to Tom to get him to understand your situation and though he is sympathetic, he can't pay the mortgage for the building without your portion of the rent.

I'm sorry there's nothing more that I can do for you.

I would hate to see you go, but I do not have a choice.

Let me know as soon as you can, if you are able to pay your rent and we can work something out.

Again, I'm sorry.

David’

Sign you crumble the paper into a ball and let it drop onto the counter.

‘Perfect.’ You think. After having a great night, you should have known the bliss wouldn't last for long.

You wanted to cry, but suddenly felt too exhausted. You decide to get a few hours of sleep, before trying to work or do anything else.

Peeling your silky dress from your body as you move towards your bed, you unhook your bra, tossing it aside, and finally collapse onto your mattress. You barely pull the covers over your mostly naked torso before you fall asleep. Dreaming of the blue-eyed man you had just spend your evening with.

TAGS:

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*If you would like to added to the tag list, please send me an ask. I am able to keep up with them better that way!

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dearophelia · 3 years

Text

turn on your favorite nightlight

long live :: nine of wands :: turn on your favorite nightlight

Hannah partakes in that gold match from combat, i’m ready for combat. It goes about as well as you can expect.

It’s three weeks before Liv’s back on the Citadel and schedules line up for their gold match. Hannah’s spent most of those three weeks pointedly not talking about it to Zaeed, but spending a little extra time at the shooting range. If he notices (and there’s no way he doesn’t), he doesn’t say anything.

After a warmup bronze match against geth that earns Hannah her first kill medal, Hannah watches the three of them load up on gear in a way they haven’t yet. They’ll be on gold, but given how they’re gearing up for this (and that Olivia programs a missile launcher for each of them), Hannah thinks she could’ve gone her entire life without knowing her daughter soloed something called platinum. More than once.

Liv hands her a handful of mod chits to plug into her gear slots on the match configuration board. The board beeps and displays the mod name as it registers each. A pistol amp, armor-piercing rounds, shield power cells, and a shield booster, all maxed out at level five. Hannah swallows.

“Map preference?” Garrus says, flipping through the choices. “Giant, Rio –”

“Fuck Rio,” Zaeed and Olivia say at the same time. Hannah wonders what the story is there.

“– Giant, Vancouver, Goddess, Hydra, or Dagger?”

Olivia checks the sights on her shotgun. “I’m too short for Dagger. And, you know,” she says as she slams her locker shut, “maybe not Goddess.”

There’s a twinge of pain in Olivia’s voice. Earth’s never been home for Olivia, but Thessia was for a while. Probably still is.

Garrus nods. “Any objection to Hydra?” Hearing none, he selects the map, sets the enemy, and challenge.

The board flashes HYDRA – REAPERS – GOLD and then begins a countdown.

Ten seconds to back out.

“Breathe,” Hannah says to herself.

***

A barrage of grenades explodes at the other end of the map and it’s a lot of effort not to sit down in a corner, cry, and just let something kill her.

Gold is loud. Gold is chaos. Gold has too many enemies coming from too many directions at once. Gold is overwhelming. She’s gone down four times and hit a grand total of zero targets.

It’s wave three. Of eleven. And this is what her daughter deals with every time she jumps out of a shuttle. Crying seems like a really good idea.

It doesn’t help that she’s been split off from the others. She’s hiding at the very corner of the map under a ladder, hoping nothing notices her.

The others aren’t together either, but they know what they’re doing. Their comm chatter has been heavier this match – amidst calling out shots and swearing, there’s still an astonishing amount of banter – and none of them are as scared as she is.

Which makes sense: they’ve all been doing this a long time and they did it together for a year and a half. But it doesn’t make her feel better.

Something slides down the ladder and lands in a crouch next to her. Hannah startles and whips around so fast she loses her balance. She comes face to face with Olivia.

Liv peers out of cover long enough to scan the immediate area. Finding nothing worrisome, she taps her comms. “Massani, Vakarian, keep the shit off us,” she orders. “We’re in the back corner by the dam. Back in a minute.” She switches her comms to silent and then reaches out, tapping the same control on Hannah’s gear.

“Liv,” Hannah starts, but she doesn’t know what comes after. She wants to be brave for her daughter, but she’s fucking terrified.

“Mom,” Olivia says, as steady and collected as Hannah’s ever heard her. “Number one, none of this is real. Remember that. Safety protocols are locked on and there is no such thing as friendly fire. You cannot get hurt.”

Hannah nods. Olivia’s voice is calm and comforting, soothing amidst the gunfire and fighting.

“Number two, we’ve got you. Zaeed, Garrus, and I. We know how to do this. We will get you through this.”

It’s the nightmare voice.

Hannah used this exact tone with Olivia and Mark when they were small and had a scary dream. She doesn’t know how she feels about Liv using that same voice back onto her, but that’s a problem for later. Right now, the nightmare voice is exactly what she needs to hear.

“Good air in, bad air out,” Olivia says.

An uncomfortable mechanical noise whirs nearby. Liv pops up, scopes in on the marauder, and blows its head off.

A little medal appears in the corner of Hannah’s HUD: Olivia Shepard – 15 Headshots.

“Mom,” she says, drawing Hannah’s attention again. “Good air in. Bad air out.”

It’s an order.

Even if she could argue, Hannah wouldn’t. Not with that tone to Liv’s voice. Hannah takes a deep breath.

“Do you need to stop?” Olivia asks, brow furrowed deeply in concern.

Yes.

“No,” she says firmly. “I want – I need to finish this. And then drink. Heavily.” This is her daughter’s life. All this fighting, all these horrors, and Hannah can’t do a goddamn thing to protect her from it.

A brute goes down on the walkway above them (Garrus Vakarian – 25 kills) and the metal structure shakes, grating and shrieking against itself.

“Well, Zaeed lost the headshot bet in the warmup, so drinks are on him tonight.” Liv’s smile drops and she throws two grenades at an influx of cannibals in the courtyard before they can get any ideas. “I’m right here. And I’m staying right here. If you want to park it next to me in cover for the rest of this, that’s alright. I’ve got you.”

They’re in armor in a combat simulator on the Citadel, not barefoot in a chilly cornfield on Mindoir, but for a moment – it’s suddenly eighteen years ago. Only this time, Olivia’s saying Hannah’s words.

“I’m right here,” she whispered, holding her daughter close as withered corn stalks rustled in the wind. “I’ve got you.”

Hannah exhales. Bad air out.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” Hannah nods.

There’s that smile again, reassuring and solid. Olivia gently clasps her shoulder. “Good hunting.”

Hannah offers a half-hearted smile in return. She swallows. “Good hunting.”

#s:long live #s:words #livfic #s:2021

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xjoonchildx · 4 years

Text

airplane, pt. 2 | jjk x reader chapter one: ICN --> LAX

pairing: jungkook/reader word count: 6.4K rating: 18+

genre: smut | silly smut | nonsensical smut

warnings: criminal!jungkook, koreanamerican!jungkook, highly improbable condom placement, unrealistic use of available sex space, reality has left the chat, plausibility has left the chat

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

artwork by the shmexy @ppersonna who’s smut is even better than her art

*************************

One day it works out too well, then the next day I’m completely screwed (I still) Who should I live as today, Kim Namjoon or RM? 25, I still don’t know how to live well So, today as well, we just go -- Airplane, Pt. 2 BTS

**************************

Jungkook Jeon is basically your Carmen Sandiego.

You stare down at the photocopy of the state of California driver’s license in your hand, into the face of the brash little fucker you’ve been chasing across the globe for the better part of a year.

He looks barely old enough to drive.

Of course, this picture was taken years ago when he was a sophomore at Stanford. Back before he dropped out of school despite being in the top of his class. Back before he broke the law by taking six million dollars of someone else’s money, then broke his parents’ hearts by disappearing without a trace.

You should already have him in custody — and If he were like any of the other greedy assholes you usually chase, he would be. But instead, Jungkook Jeon has managed to deflect and dodge and avoid you at every turn for months.

It’s driving you fucking insane.

One time, you’d been so certain about cornering him in Argentina that you’d boarded a plane with a pair of thick-necked US Marshals and flown south. You’d had to head back to the States empty-handed and sunburnt and pissed.

The real kicker was when you’d gotten home and opened a one-line email – encrypted to hell and back – with a picture of your FBI Academy graduation headshot attached.

you’re so hot i almost want to get caught. almost.

That had hurt.

So you’d had to lick your wounds, bide your time and wait for a man who apparently didn’t make mistakes to make a mistake. And for a while, he didn’t.

Until he did.

**************************************

Agent Kim Namjoon is definitely not the pencil pusher you imagined him to be during your many phone calls and other interactions.

No, the man who meets you and your team at Incheon International Airport is what the kids these days call a snack. He is tall and broad and wears a pair of dark thick-rimmed glasses that should make him look like a giant nerd but somehow don’t.

Very, very cute.

“Welcome to Korea,” he says with an easy smile. You smile back, then clear your throat and remind yourself you’re not here to flirt with your contact with Korea’s National Intelligence Service.

Seriously.

Agent Kim’s English is immaculate – this you already knew since you’ve exchanged more than a few calls in recent weeks. He’s got his own team ready for briefing at his headquarters. After a quick drive, you’re all in one room going over the plan.

His guys have tracked Jeon to a high-end restaurant in Seoul where he’s been working for a few months. They already have a rough sketch of the area. You’re going to block off every exit, cover every angle, and make sure there’s no way he’s getting out of that restaurant without coming through one of you.

This should go off without a hitch – but then you remember Argentina and frown.

“He’s there. My guys are ready to go,” Agent Kim says, after taking a quick call on his cell phone.

It’s decided, then.

You load into black vans and take off for the west end of the city. Agent Kim drives and you have the chance to look out the window at the streets. It’s a beautiful place, you think. Agent Kim seems to read your mind.

“You should come back sometime,” he says. “When you’re not here on business.”

Sigh. You’re going to have to flirt with this man, aren’t you?

“I would like that. Maybe you could show me around some time,” you reply.

His eyes stay on the road – his hands locked at 10 and 2 – but you see the ghost of a smile pass over his lips. You smile to yourself and look back out the window.

Minutes later you’re parked outside an industrial-looking brick building. Gleaming glass-and-stone condos and perfectly manicured greenscaping confirm you are in a high-dollar neighborhood. It’s a Saturday night in a ritzy part of Seoul and you’re probably about to ruin someone’s date night.

Or maybe rescue it, depending on the date.

You stare out at the restaurant and imagine Jungkook Jeon inside, going about his life without realizing you’re here to throw a wrench into all his plans. You get a little thrill when you imagine the look on his face when he realizes the gig is up. Victory is so close you can taste it.

Agent Kim gets a call from his point man, everyone is in place.

Showtime.

******************************

“Is that consommé? It looks like consommé. What do you think, Agent Kim?”

Jungkook Jeon looks shaken for a moment when you step in front of the table where’s he’s just laid out a picture-perfect pair of starters. His guests, a nicely-dressed older couple, also look shaken as they glance nervously between you, Agent Kim, and their now permanently off-duty server.

He straightens to his full height.

The youthful roundness of the face you’ve stared at so long in that driver’s license picture is gone. You have no idea what this guy’s been eating for the past few years, but in place of that baby-faced kid is a man, tall and broad and muscular. Tattoos you can’t make out run across his hands, up his arms, and disappear into the white dress shirt he has rolled to the elbows. His hair is on the long side, pulled back, giving you an unobstructed view of what can only be described as a perfect face. Serious, literal perfection.

Good grief.

Somehow the little shit recovers from his shock in an instant. He smirks, despite his clear disadvantage.

“I gotta say, you look even better in person.”

Oh yeah? So do you.

You ignore his opening line.

“It’s time to come home, Mr. Jeon. Pay the piper and all that.”

He has the nerve to roll his eyes and your hand itches with the desire to punch him in his stupid fucking perfect face.

“Teamed up with some Korean suits, huh?” He gives Agent Kim the once-over and apparently finds him lacking.

“Mr. Jeon,” you feign a scandalized tone. “Just how do you think I was raised? It would be downright rude to barge into a sovereign country without an invitation. Besides, Agent Kim here has been an absolute pleasure.”

You could hear a pin drop inside this restaurant right now. Every knife and fork and glass has come to rest on the fine white linen on these tables. The guests are frozen in place, taking in the strange scene.

Dinner and a show tonight, guys.

Jungkook doesn’t move an inch. You’d half expected him to just walk up, accept his cuffs and get this show on the road. But no, apparently he’s in a talking mood.

“Tell me how you found me.”

You sigh. You’re not a pair of girlfriends catching up over coffee. You open your mouth to say just that, but Agent Kim speaks up.

“We had a source come through with some very specific information on you.”

“Oh, I think Agent Kim is being far too kind,” you counter. “What he means to say is that your Korean sucks. You see, Mr. Jeon, you may look like them,” you gesture at the restaurant full of guests, “but you sound like us. Let’s just say you stick out like a sore thumb here.”

The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement at the jab.

“I hated Korean school, you know.”

“It shows.”

He laughs.

Agent Kim clears his throat as if to remind you both that you’re not alone.

“Well this isn’t a social call, and I’m sure all these fine people would love to get back to their meals. So why don’t we finish this chat on the way back to the United States, Mr. Jeon?” you say, getting back to the task at hand.

Agent Kim signals his guys and they swoop in to put him in cuffs. He doesn’t resist, just holds out his hands and shoots you his most flirtatious smile.

“I’m going to hold you to that, Agent.”

On your way out the door, you glance over at the consommé and hope it’s supposed to be served cold.

**********************************

“What is a man who stole six million dollars doing waiting tables at a restaurant?” you muse out loud.

Jungkook Jeon is in the backseat of Agent Kim’s black SUV, looking out the window.

“I had to have some kind of story, right? Besides, I kind of liked it.”

“You didn’t get to spend the money,” you say.

“Not really,” he admits. “It’s much easier to fantasize about blowing millions of dollars than it is to actually do it.”

“Tsk, tsk, Mr. Jeon. What a shame.”

He leans forward in the backseat, hands cuffed in front of him.

“You know what would really be a shame, Agent? If I don’t get the chance to fuck you before you lock me up.”

A muscle twitches in Agent Kim’s jaw.

“Watch your mouth,” he warns, glaring into the rearview mirror. You immediately decide you like him a little stern. It’s pretty hot.

“Mr. Jeon, you and your dick will be free to do whatever you’d both like in about twenty years. That’s how this whole grand larceny and evasion thing works,” you say, ignoring the sensation that spreads across the back of your neck at his crass words.

He whistles.

“I’m really going to waste my best-looking years in prison.”

No kidding.

“Oh, don’t be too disappointed,” you say sweetly. “I hear there are a few advantages to having such a pretty face behind bars.”

You hear the clink of his cuffs and look into your rearview just in time to see him give you the finger.

*********************************

The government can be so cheap sometimes.

You’d have loved to pull right up to the tarmac at Incheon International, walk right onto a chartered plane like the Feds do in the movies. But alas, private flights are definitely not in the budget.

Instead, you have to settle for regular seats on a Korean Air flight. You’d been in touch with the airline ahead of time and they’d offered you and your team privacy in the back rows of the plane – complete with a curtain separator. You really couldn’t blame them for not wanting passengers to be greeted by a handcuffed man and his gun-toting babysitters.

Smart move all around.

Seating arrangements are decided, you and Jungkook on one side of the aisle, your two Marshals on the other. They’re both smart men, highly-skilled and boring as hell. You’d already had to suffer through their small talk on the fourteen-hour long flight here, and you’d be damned if you had to do it again on the way back.

“Are you going to let me have a drink?” Jungkook asks, as soon as you’re settled into your seats.

“Of course,” you reply, scrolling through a few emails on your phone. “What’s your favorite kind of juice?”

He snorts.

“It’s gonna be a long flight unless you play nice,” he warns.

“Mr. Jeon,” you sigh. “Shut up.”

He shakes his handcuffs.

“You could at least take these off,” he grumbles. “Not like I can walk off of a moving plane.”

“Nope,” you reply, affecting your best bored tone. You grab a magazine out of the seatback and pretend to leaf through it.

“So you want me to sit here – no phone, no headphones, no nothing – for fourteen hours?”

“Better to practice that ‘bored out of your mind’ routine sooner rather than later. I’m sure it’s gonna come in handy.”

You don’t look his way, but you can feel the glare he’s fixed on you and you have to fight the urge to smile.

******************************

The flight attendant who rolls a giant drink cart into your quiet section of this plane looks like a doll. Porcelain skin, huge eyes and the whitest smile you have ever seen.

Jungkook straightens in his seat immediately. He’s been pouting for the last hour but now he sees this dazzling young woman and his game face is back on.

“Hello,” he says, flashing her a smile.

Then he stops — seems to remember his audience — and resumes the exchange in Korean. You stare at him as he makes eyes at the flight attendant, working her with the confidence of a man who is not wearing handcuffs right now.

She blushes deeply at something he says before turning back to her cart to pour a Jack and Coke.

“Are you serious, Jeon?”

He smiles.

“You don’t hate me, right? Like, obviously I’ve pissed you off, but you don’t hate me. Because only a person who hated me would stop me from having a drink on my way to federal prison.”

You open your mouth to protest, but instead decide that he’s right. He’s a thief – not a killer for pete’s sake.

A super-hot, ridiculously charming, complete asshole of a thief who is definitely not getting under your skin by flirting with the flight attendant right now.

The porcelain doll turns back and hands him his cocktail and Jungkook winks at her. This man just accepted his drink with his hands in fucking handcuffs and this woman is blushing at him like he just asked for her number in a nightclub.

“Are you done?” you hiss.

“With what?” he asks innocently, cuffs clinking as he lifts the drink to his mouth.

“Eye-fucking the flight attendant.”

He feigns shock. “Are you – are you…jealous?”

You scoff and turn your attention back to your magazine.

He leans close.

“Don’t be jealous,” he says, blowing whiskey-scented breath into your ear. “I wanted you first. I’m only flirting with her because you’re really mean to me.”

He leans back and takes another sip of his drink.

There is something about this mischievous boy-man with the chiseled body and the smart mouth. He certainly has a charm. You’re certain he’s been able to use that charm to get out of more than a few sticky situations over the years.

“I wasn’t kidding you know,” he says. “About wanting to fuck you.”

He shakes the ice in his glass to show off that he’s already drained it and gives you another one of those self-assured smiles that’s really starting to piss you off. You drop your gaze back to your magazine.

“I’m not going to fuck you,” you state simply, pretending to have a deep interest in some blurb about face masks.

“No? Are you sure about that?”

“You are mind-bogglingly arrogant for a man who is headed to prison for the next two decades,” you reply dryly.

“Probably headed to prison,” he corrects. “Innocent until proven guilty, due process and all that. Unless things have changed? I realize it’s been a while since I’ve been home.”

You snort.

“Okay fine, you’re right. I’m headed to prison for the next twenty years which is why it’s imperative that you fuck me now. Immediately. Anything else would be,” he gives a dramatic shake of his head, “Inhumane.”

This time you can’t help but laugh and one of the Marshals across the aisle gives you a disapproving look, like he’s been forced to chaperone a pair of giggling teenagers.

You clear your throat and look back down at your magazine, force the smile off your face.

“Argentina,” you say. “How did you get out of there before I got to you?”.

The flight attendant returns with another drink and another smile for him.

“You want something, I want something,” he says, taking a long sip. “Maybe we could work something out?”

“I’m not going to fuck you for information, Jeon. All of that will soon come out in the wash,” you sigh.

“Then fuck me for charity. For good will. Fuck me because it’s the least you can do since you’re blowing up my entire life right now.”

You roll your eyes.

“You blew up your life, you idiot. You’re the one who intercepted a wire transfer and stole six million bucks. You’ve already been fucked. You fucked yourself.”

He smiles wistfully for a moment.

“Yeah, you’ve got a point there.”

*******************************

You stop him at three drinks.

His eyes have taken on a soft quality and his entire energy is a bit more relaxed with some booze in his system. It’s hard, it’s really hard to ignore how hot this man is without even trying.

But when he tries? Then it’s damned near impossible.

You check your watch. You still have seven hours to go on this flight.

“Luck,” he says, suddenly.

“Excuse me?” you say, looking up from your magazine.

“You wanted to know how I got out of Argentina in time. I was gonna make up some fancy story about how I’d figured out you were on to me and beat the clock to get away but the truth is, I was just lucky. I’d already been there too long and I was getting restless. I was ready to go.”

Hmm. So the booze has made him talkative.

“Your landlord said we’d missed you by one day,” you counter.

“Yup,” he laughs, closing his eyes momentarily as if reliving the thrill of the chase. “I used to have a lot of luck, actually. Before I ran into you.”

“Sorry about that.”

“No you’re not.”

“Fair enough,” you say and the two of you share a laugh. You open a bag of pretzels and offer him one. He begrudgingly accepts.

“Why did you take the money?”

He chews thoughtfully for a moment.

“Because I wanted to know if I could. I didn’t think I was gonna pull it off, but again, it was my luck. Once I figured out how to do it, I just did.”

“How remarkably stupid,” you breathe, a smile on your face. He smiles, too.

“Yeah, well. I said I was lucky, not smart.”

“Oh, but you are smart, Mr. Jeon, and don’t think you’ve convinced me otherwise. Your transcript from Stanford tells a very interesting story. What did your parents say when you dropped out at the top of your class and went to work at a gas station?”

The sarcastic back-and-forth screeches to a halt. For the first time, you see darkness pass over his face.

“Don’t ask me about my parents,” he says curtly. “I’ll tell you whatever else you want to know, but that shit is none of your business.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, and this time you mean it.

He shifts to his side, away from you, and looks out the window.

You sit quiet, thinking for a minute – but after a while you both fall asleep.

********************************************

You wake to Jungkook nudging you.

“Get up,” he says urgently. “I have to piss.”

You groan, trying to clear the fog from your brain and glance at your watch. Still four more hours to go on this flight.

“Like now,” he says, bouncing one leg to ward off the sensation.

You get up, stretch out, and wait for him to stand but then realize he’s waiting for you to help him since it’s an awkward fit in the seats with his handcuffs. Instead of making a snarky comment, you just offer your hand and a slight smile.

Very unlike you.

“Thanks,” he says, straightening out, stretching his legs. One of the Marshals raises an eyebrow at you.

“He has to use the bathroom,” you say, stilling the man with a raised hand when he makes to stand. “It’s alright, I need to stretch, too. I’ll walk him down there.”

The Marshal looks skeptically from Jungkook to you and back.

“It’s fine, Agent,” you say, a little annoyed. “It’s not like he can go anywhere, right?”

“Right,” Jungkook says, still bouncing that leg.

The Marshal gives you a look that makes clear he doesn’t approve, but he’s not going to stop you.

You walk behind Jungkook as he makes his way past the curtain, down the aisle and towards the bathroom. It’s a half-empty flight, and you’re glad for it when you see people staring at his handcuffs. You don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you can’t help but feel a little embarrassed on his behalf when you hear them whispering in Korean. At least you don’t know what they’re saying.

The firm set of Jungkook’s mouth makes you think he wishes that were the case for him, too.

“Just uh, give me a minute,” he says, when you reach the bathroom.

It turns out to be a lot longer than a minute.

You’re half tempted to bang on the door and demand to know why he’s taking so long. Maybe the Marshal was right to be suspicious of Jungkook. Maybe he figured out a way off this plane through the toilet.

You’re bouncing your own leg impatiently when he finally reappears.

“What took you so long?” you ask, annoyed.

“You ever try to take your pants and underwear off while handcuffed?” he asks. “You know what — never mind, don’t answer that. You’ll start giving me ideas.”

Ah. He’s back, then.

Part of you is a little relieved to hear his smart-ass mouth again. You feel a hell of a lot less guilty around this version of him.

“Listen, I did a little recon and it’s a tight fit, but there’s definitely enough room for us to fuck,” he says, face comically serious. “And we’re running out of time for you to pull the trigger, so what’s it going to be?”

“Ugh. You’re foul,” you say, pulling a face.

“But you kind of like it,” he shoots back.

He’s right, though. You kind of do.

***********************

Clearly you’ve lost your mind.

Pheromones have short-circuited all the portions of your brain that control logic, reason, and risk. That’s the only plausible explanation for why you are slumped into your seat right now, legs pressed together tight, imagining fucking Jungkook Jeon in an airplane bathroom.

Sympathy and curiosity and more than a little horniness are making for a strange mix. You reason to yourself — as if you are actually entertaining this madness — that he’s not a convicted felon, just an accused one. There’s gotta be a loophole in the FBI handbook somewhere.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Jungkook asks, leaning close — a smile playing over his lips.

“Shut up.”

“You are,” he whispers in a scandalized tone. “I mean with these on, I’m not going to be able to do my best work, obviously, but I’ve done more with less. Unless you want to take them off,” he says, rolling his wrists in the handcuffs.

“I already told you, I’m not taking those off,” you say sharply.

“Alright, alright. Keep it kinky. I can roll with that.”

”Shut up, Jeon.”

He gestures across his mouth like he’s zipping it shut and throwing away the key and you fight the urge to laugh.

“If I decided to fuck you, and I’m not saying I would,” you hiss, “I would have to stuff a sock into that smart mouth of yours just to not have to hear it.”

He laughs and his face looks so young and relaxed it takes your breath away a little.

“Make it your underwear and we have a deal,” he winks.

You pick up another magazine and get back to actively trying to ignore him and that annoying pulse between your legs.

*************************

Two hours left to Los Angeles.

You glance over at your guard dogs, who’ve both knocked out after a snack. One has a newspaper draped fully over his face, grandpa style.

You should have ordered a drink. You should have ordered six. That way, if you’re ever called to the carpet about the decision you’re about to make, you can blame it on alcohol-induced psychosis. Because the Marshals are asleep and you feel bad for Jungkook Jeon and he’s so hot you can barely think straight at this point. You take a deep breath and make a decision.

Fuck it.

You stand quietly, motioning to Jungkook with a finger over your lips. For a moment, his brows knit together in confusion but that look passes almost as quickly as it came. Then his entire face breaks out into a wide grin.

“Yeah?” he whispers.

“Shut up,” you whisper back, through gritted teeth.

You hold out your hand to help him to stand and when he grips it, he rubs his the pad of his thumb across your wrist. You try to ignore the sizzle of arousal he manages to drum up with that brief touch.

Quietly, you both walk past the curtain, past sleeping passengers and back to the clean but cramped bathroom where you are about to do the dumbest shit you have ever done.

You glance around at the passengers nearby and notice only one older man, eyes wide on the two of you. You shoot an excuse-me-sir-this-is-official-government-business look at him before following Jungkook into the tiny space.

You lock the door and turn to face him.

“Glad you finally came around,” he says, immediately backing you into the door. His mouth goes right for your neck and he pushes his entire body into yours in this tiny space. He is large and warm and he smells way better than he should after working a restaurant shift, being arrested, and then being jammed into a plane seat for hours.

His lips work up the column of your throat and his hands, still secured in front of him, push uselessly into the front of your lightweight wool dress. Shame, really, that you couldn’t take him out of these. You’d love to feel those hands right about now.

“I wasn’t kidding about keeping your mouth shut,” you manage to say, breathless at the feel of his mouth on your skin. “Don’t make me change my mind.”

The vibration of his laughter tickles the shell of your ear.

“I’ll be a good boy, I promise,” he says. “I just need to get my face under this dress.”

Your brain stutters for a moment, hung up on the mental image. He drops to his knees in front of you, lifts his hands to try and push up the front of the almost-too-tight garment but his handcuffs make it impossible. You graciously help him out, hiking the hem up your thighs. You’re about to work your underwear down, but he’s impatient, burying his face directly into the wet satin and inhaling deeply.

“Fuck, you smell amazing,” he groans, nosing the aching nub between your thighs. You’re glad he can’t see the way your mouth drops open when he licks out at the damp material, teasing you with the barest hint of friction.

“Help me out here,” he moans, and you do just that, sliding your panties down as best you can with the amount of space you’ve got.

At this angle, you can only get them down to your knees, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to care. He pushes his entire face into you, lips and teeth and tongue driving into you, working you with a fervor that makes your knees start to wobble. You grab a handful of his hair to steady yourself but it’s no use. Absently, you realize the tremors running up and down your body are rattling the door.

“Nice to know that mouth is good for more than just trash talk,” you tease on deep exhale. He laughs.

“Maybe some day you’ll get the chance to enjoy the full-service experience.”

“Probably not, Jeon,” you moan. “This is just a one-time favor, got it?”

All the blood in your brain has taken a dive into parts lower south and you marvel at how quickly your impending orgasm is coming on. But then, you’ve basically had about ten hours of foreplay up to this point, so maybe it’s not that surprising.

That damned door keeps rattling and you just know the little old man on the other side is probably staring it down. You’re not sure what it says about you that you think that’s kind of hilarious.

Your body jolts when Jungkook wraps his lips around your clit and sucks so hard you see stars. “You’re the one about to come on my face in an airplane bathroom,” he groans, licking obscenely between words. “So who’s doling out favors right now?”

Well, that does it.

The second he brings his lips and tongue back to your clit, you fall apart, gripping his hair so hard you’re certain it has to hurt. You pour all your energy into not screaming as your orgasm steamrolls you, and whatever energy you have left goes into trying to stay upright. Jungkook stays face-first in your heat, lapping up your release until the last tremors shake you and that goddamned door.

“Shit,” your voice is shaky, chest heaving when you finally make a sound.

“You are very, very fucking hot,” Jungkook says, breathless from where he sits on the floor. “Way too hot to be a Fed.”

You laugh.

“Well you are definitely too hot to be a criminal, but here we are, huh?”

Your eyes slide down to his glinting handcuffs, but they aren’t what’s catching your attention. Instead, your gaze heads right to the giant bulge straining against the front of his jeans. Turnabout is fair play, and you’re suddenly very eager to return the favor.

You help him stand and immediately seal your mouth to his, tasting yourself on his lips. Your fingers fumble past his restraints, underneath to where you can feel the button of his jeans and you undo it as fast as you can. He stops kissing you long enough to groan into your mouth when your hands slip into his boxers and your fingers wrap around his cock. He is hot and thick and hard in your hand. You squeeze around him, enjoying the way his hips jerk in response.

“Don’t tease,” he whines. “I’m gonna have to fantasize about this blowjob for the next twenty years.”

“I’d better make it memorable then,” you say, sinking down to your knees in the cramped space. You shove his jeans off his hips and look up at him as you gently push his boxers down and over his straining cock. His body is rock hard, lean muscle and defined lines running from his shapely legs up to his cuffed wrists and underneath that white shirt you’d love to peel off but can’t.

His head falls back the second your lips touch his swollen head. You tease it for a moment with a few quick licks, but decide this is really not the time to be dragging this out. The strangled “fuck” he whispers when you take him down fully is the sweetest and dirtiest thing you’ve heard in a while.

You manage to catch his gaze for a moment as you maintain a steady rhythm on his cock with your hands. His eyes are glassy with drinks and arousal, and you nearly have to slip a hand between your legs when his tongue slips out of his mouth to wet his lips.

He lifts and drops his handcuffs a couple of times before growling his frustration at not being able to put his fingers in your hair. You feel a faint throb of sympathy for him for a moment before reminding yourself that you literally have your mouth around his cock so frankly, things could be a lot worse for him than they are right now.

“You gotta stop,” he says, after a few minutes of the slow, wet torture. You release him with a soft pop and a confused expression.

“It’s your last blowjob for twenty years, Jeon. You want me to stop?”

“No, no,” he says quickly. “I have to fuck you. Please let me fuck you. It’s all I can think about,” he whines.

“You can’t,” you say firmly. “No condoms.”

He blows out a heavy breath like he’s thinking for a moment and there you are, on your knees in this tiny bathroom, confused as to what your next step should be.

“Look around,” he says suddenly.

“What?”

“Look – people fuck in airplane bathrooms all the time, right? It’s a thing. Maybe someone out there pulled some hero shit and is looking out for the next person.”

“This bathroom,” you say skeptically, “is the size of a goddamned shoebox, Jeon. You think we’re going to magically scrounge up a condom?”

“Just look,” he implores through gritted teeth.

“Fine,” you huff, leaning over to pop the cabinet under the sink open. You put one searching hand inside and pull out three sanitary pads that look like they were packaged in the 1970s.

He groans, frustrated.

“Hang on,” you say, jamming your hand back inside. Your fingertips brush up against something smooth and you fish it out, eyes wide with utter disbelief.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you say, more to yourself than to him.

You hold the condom packet up for him to inspect.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, cock jerking at the sight of it, like it knows he’s just hit the jackpot.

He laughs so hard for a moment you fear this entire encounter has gone entirely off track.

“My luck is back,” he declares triumphantly, finally. “Now, please hurry up and get on my dick.”

You’re shaking your head in disbelief the entire time you’re ripping the packet open, rolling it down Jungkook’s impossibly still-hard cock. He’s breathing hard, body tense with anticipation when you slide your heels off to take your underwear off completely.

“The heels,” he groans, watching as you slip your panties over your ankles. “Can you — you know…keep ‘em on?”

“Ugh, you are such a pervert,” you scold, slipping your feet back into the shoes and leaning back to line him up with your entrance. He surges forward and you moan at the stretch as he fills you entirely in one thrust.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, dropping his head into the crook of your neck, already rolling his hips frantically against you. “Shit, that’s incredible.”

And truthfully, it is. The ledge of the sink is biting into your ass with every thrust and you’re having to do most of the work given his handcuff situation but you really don’t even care because he still feels amazing like this.

He mouths uselessly at the wool covering your breasts because there’s no way to get to them. You nearly admonish him because he’ll leave crude wet spots on the fine material, but you decide against it.

“Oh, I bet you have amazing tits,” he groans, hips maintaining a steady rhythm. “Giving me something to look forward to for next time.”

“There won’t be a next time, Jeon. And there won’t be a this time if you don’t hurry up already,” you shoot back.

He laughs, a little breathless from exertion. “I’m close, I promise. Fuck, you feel so good.”

You squeeze tighter around him, push harder back against him, angle your hips a bit more to ensure he’s going to the hilt with every thrust. The guttural sound he makes in response sends a shiver up your back.

“I’m gonna come,” he gasps after a moment, mouth covering yours as his hips begin to stutter at the first ebbs of his release. Your ass is numb from the sink ledge at this point, legs tired from supporting your weight and his.

“So come then,” you tease, biting gently on the sensitive skin at his pulse point. He groans from deep inside his chest as he lets go – hips jerking as he pumps himself through it.

“Shit,” he groans, leaning on you with his full weight.

“You are crushing me Jeon,” you complain, pushing at his chest with both hands. He chuckles. “Yeah, sorry about that. Balance is a little off at the moment.”

You open your mouth to shoot another sarcastic comment his way, but there is something about the way he is looking at you right now that stops you short.

You clear your throat, uncomfortable with the tiny glimpse into whatever that was.

“Well, as much as I’d love to ruminate on how good this was,” you say, shifting your dress back down and making a beeline for your underwear, “We’ve been in here an insane amount of time already. There’s probably a line outside the door.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, a little too quiet for your liking.

So you put yourself back together and help put him back together, too.

And strangely, when you open the door to leave there is no line. But that little old man is still watching, a look of astonishment on his face as you both walk past.

***********************************

“Listen, are you sitting down right now?”

You frown at the phone display in your office because any conversation that starts with an opening line like that is headed south.

“Uh…yeah. Why?”

“Hang on, I’m coming to your office.”

Seconds later, Agent Novak bursts through the door.

“So you haven’t seen it,” he says, rushing up to your desk.

“Seen what, Novak? Spit it out,” you say, frustrated already.

“Check your email,” he says, arms crossed over his chest. He looks fit to burst with some kind of excitement and your chest already feels a little tight at whatever it is he’s dying to show you.

You click into your email to find an urgent bulletin that you’d missed because you were working on a stack of papers on your desk, not your computer. The subject line makes your heart hammer.

URGENT MEMO: Fugitive Search, Jungkook Jeon

ATTACHED VIDEO FILE

“The guy just walked out of a federal courthouse like he was on an afternoon stroll. Had on a suit and everything,” Novak says, a note of awe in his voice. “Check out the video.”

Your mouth is already hanging open before you even click on the attached CCTV footage. A camera inside the courthouse shows Jungkook Jeon walk out of a bathroom in the front lobby, dressed like an attorney, not a defendant. His long hair is cut into a more professional style, his suit covers his tattoos and he looks entirely in place.

Novak is right – he walks so casually past the guards and other visitors that no one even thinks to stop him.

“Word is, court was on a lunch break and it looks like he had everything ready to go. Walked into a waiting Uber and vanished like smoke.”

You haven’t said a word since Novak walked in with this bombshell.

You just watch the CCTV footage over and over again in a loop, willing your brain to accept what your eyes can see clear as day.

This motherfucker.

Guess his luck really is back.

***************************

#jungkooksmut #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x read #btssmut #bts fanfic #bts fic

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vintagedolan · 4 years

Text

mixtape | track four

| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist | visual by @brockhsmpton

“Hey! No headshots!”

“Then no moving your head into my shot! Cheater!” Bekah stuck out her tongue. It looked a bit paler than usual.

“Aye, I don’t cheat!”

It was quite the sight, Indy was sure. A small 15 year old versus a much larger 20 year old, ducking behind anything they could in the hospital room - curtains, the bed, the large cabinet door, even going as far as climbing under the sink to avoid each other’s paper airplanes. The first few times she’d protested their swiping of her blank index cards, knowing she would need them eventually for another study session in the future. But Bekah’s giggles were enough for her to give in, taking on her role of judge to ensure no one cheated and even folding a few extras for them.

They kept it up for a while until Bekah started to breathe a bit heavier, wincing some as she tried to throw hers at an ever moving Grayson. Indy caught on first, furrowing her brow and offering up a ‘take it easy’, but the look she gave Grayson was a bit more serious, and he nodded, scrambling for another idea that wouldn’t make it too obvious that he’d noticed Bekah’s struggle. In a moment of insight he grabbed the bedpan, sitting it at the end of the bed and moving to sit towards the top, leaving plenty of space.

“Beks, come sit down, we’ll see who's really got better aim.”

She was grateful, her exhaustion obvious as she leaned back against the pillows, landing a few good ones before Jennifer came in with that look that had her groaning.

“It’s 8 guys, time to roll out.”

“Can’t they stay just a little longer Mrs. Jennifer? Please?” She put on her best pleading voice, but it was futile. Even if they weren’t being told to go, Indiana wasn’t going to push it that night - she didn’t like the way that Bekah’s skin didn’t have it’s usual deep richness. She looked small. Jennifer shook her head.

“Not tonight kiddo, maybe next week.”

Indiana checked her phone - it was only 7:50, and Jennifer never pulled them out early.

Unless…

“We’ll see you soon Beks, get some rest okay?” She kept her voice steady despite the twisting feeling of her gut, giving Grayson time to say goodbye before they both headed out the door with a wave.

Indiana followed Jennifer towards the nurses station, Grayson right behind her. When they stopped, she reached out for his hand, bracing herself.

Jennifer was a kind woman, and she’d only cut their session short if there was something she needed to tell them.

“What’s going on? Don’t sugarcoat it either,” Indy said. Grayson squeezed her hand, running a thumb across the back of it slowly.

“She’s not responding to treatment. Her counts aren’t going down, her tumors aren’t shrinking. Her body isn’t doing well.”

Grayson stiffened.

“So what’s the next step then?” He asked.

“We’re going to try stem cells, but with her systems already so fragile we can’t have her expending any energy she doesn’t have to be. She puts on a show when you all are here, because she doesn’t want you two to worry. And when she actually has the procedure, it’s gonna be family only for at least a week, so I just wanted to give you guys a heads up.”

“Isn’t that the whole reason we’re here though? Because her family can’t see her very often? I don’t want her to have to go through that alone.” The concern was evident in Grayson’s voice, and it made Indiana’s heart swell, even as Jennifer sighed.

“I know, and I wish it was different. But it’s for her own protection, or believe me we’d be looking for a loophole. We’ll take good care of her, and you can always facetime to keep her company, kiddos usually love that.”

Indiana’s logic kicked in, her medical brain starting to spin and catch up with what Jennifer was saying. She set her shoulders, like her mom taught her to, and just nodded.

“Right, that makes sense. We’ll figure out a way to make sure she’s supported through the whole thing. Thanks for letting us know.”

Grayson frowned at the sudden change in her tone but didn’t question her as she turned away. He simply followed her, pressing the buttons for the doors as they made it through the hallways. She was walking faster than usual and he lengthened his stride to keep up, not even making his usual comment about the stairs, just moving straight into the elevator.

As soon as the doors closed he heard her ragged breath and immediately opened his arms, taking a step towards her. He was met with a closed fist pressed to his sternum, her knuckles hard even through his hoodie as she stopped him.

“I’m gonna need you to not do that right now.”

He tried not to pay attention to the way her words made his stomach drop.

“Why?”

“Because if you hug me right now, I’m gonna cry. And I don’t wanna cry.”

To her relief, he didn’t push it. Instead, he laced his fingers with hers again, a bit tighter than before, as the elevator dinged and they stepped out into the now familiar lobby.

When Grayson was six and a half, he’d gotten worried. He’d decided he wanted to be a spy, which meant he needed to practice listening to every conversation he could to get ‘intel’. Which meant picking up the extra house phone to listen in on Cam’s conversations, reading Ethan’s Nintendo DS chats, and most importantly, practicing his stealth by sneaking into the living room when it was just Lisa and Sean, to get the real gossip from the adults. But by his third day as the designated house spy, he was worried - so he did what he always did when he didn’t know what else to do. He went to his dad.

“Why don’t you and Ma talk?” He had asked. His dad had looked up from his paperwork with a frown, putting his pen down and turning to his son.

“What do you mean?”

“You guys just sit in the living room but you don’t talk. I thought moms and dads were supposed to talk. Nick’s mom and dad talk all the time when we’re at his house.”

“Are you worried? About me and Ma?”

He nodded, and Sean smiled his big smile, the one that always brought out the same dimple that Grayson had, reaching out to grab his son and lift him up onto his desk so they were at eye level.

“Let me tell you a little secret Gray. When you love somebody, and I mean really love them, you don’t have to talk. People talk to tell you what’s going on in their mind, but when you love somebody, real deep, like the way I love your Ma, you don’t have to tell them. They just know.”

“Like how I know what Ethan’s thinking all the time?”

Sean smiled, and pinched his cheek.

“Yeah babe, just like that. You can love somebody loud, or you can love somebody quiet. Doesn’t mean you love them any more or any less.”

Grayson didn’t say a word back then, and he didn’t say one now either - he just held onto Indiana’s hand and walked beside her until they made it to her apartment building. The elevator ride was silent apart from the muffled ding of each floor they passed, and he kept his eyes on her face as subtly as he could, making sure she didn’t need him.

She fumbled with her keys in one hand, unwilling to let go of his hand with her other, finally getting it lined up and turned.

They made it five steps inside before Grayson wrapped his arms around her. It was a bit of a smothering hug, as any Grayson hug was, whether he meant it to be or not. He was so big that she melted into him involuntarily, as she had every time they’d hugged goodbye over the last week. But this time, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her hair with so much tenderness that it had her nose burning, her eyes pricking.

“You can cry, it doesn’t scare me. I know you’re worried about her. I am too.”

His voice was so soft that she felt it in her bones.

She swallowed hard, fought it, bit it back like she’d learned to and squeezed him back before going limp, waiting for him to let go, knowing if he held on too long she wouldn’t be able to keep it together.

He didn’t let go.

Instead, he turned his head and rested his cheek on top of her hair and waited. Loved her quiet, let her settle herself at her own pace, relax and compartmentalize. She sucked in another few breaths and then started to walk backwards, arms still locked around Grayson’s waist as he followed her with a smile, letting her guide him to the couch.

They fell into the position they’d found themselves in at the end of Saturday night - Grayson leaned back against the cushion, giving her his whole torso to choose from as she curled up against him. There was a casual intimacy between the two of them that Indiana had never felt. She didn’t hesitate to rest her head on his chest, or throw her leg over his in a bid to get closer. She didn’t have a single doubt before she scooted up so she was closer to his lips, smiling when he reached for her, cupped her face with both hands and brought her to him for a kiss.

“You feeling better?” He asked, nose still against hers when he pulled back a fraction.

“Much,” she murmured, chasing out the last worries she had with his lips as her tool, focusing in on the way they moved against hers, the warmth of his tongue, the way her muscles tensed as his hand traveled from her cheek down her neck, over her shoulder and down to her hip. She sucked in a breath when he squeezed her skin, calloused hands rough against her smooth.

He managed to keep her there for a few more minutes, a lazy make out made up of slow kisses, deep breaths and a few giggles seemingly enough to keep her mind busy for the time being. Everything had moved so fast but so naturally somehow - strangers only a few weeks ago, and now there they were, caught up in each other as if it was the only place they were ever meant to be. But as it always did, school began to poke into the back of her mind, ruining the moment as she started to ease herself up, laughing at the way he held onto her arm and pouted, pulling her back down so he could nuzzle into her neck, pressed up so tight that every breath tickled her neck.

“Gray I have school stuff, I told you that,”

“I thought you said your exam got moved, you got that email the other day!”

She ran her fingers through his hair with a smile.

“Honey just cause one exam got moved doesn’t mean I don’t have shit to do for my other classes.”

“Honey?” He balked, sitting up enough for Indy to see his furrowed brow and wide eyes that had her giggling again.

“Not for you huh?”

“Pretty sure my mom is the only woman who has ever called me honey, so imma have to pass on that one.”

“Then what do you prefer?” She hummed as he cozied back up to her, holding her just tight enough to keep her there, arms crossed around her so her back was pressed to his chest.

“Dunno. Never really had anyone ask before. What are my options?”

She toyed with his fingers, trying to think of what to say.

“I like all of them. I like original ones, but I like the classics too.”

“Classics?”

“Yeah, you know. Baby. Babe.”

He could have blacked out hearing baby come from her lips while she traced shapes on his arm. It took him a moment, but he realized what she was drawing. Letters. B-A-B-Y.

“I like baby. It’s a good term of endearment.” Even if he hadn’t liked it before, the feeling of her fingers lingering over his skin would have convinced him.

“Endearment. So formal,” she teased, leaning a bit to kiss his forearm. He returned it with a kiss to her hair, comfortable silence filling the room for a few moments.

“You really gotta study?”

“Yes.”

“So I should go.” His arms squeezed her a little tighter.

“I never said that.”

“So I can stay?”

“If you want to, I mean it’s going to be me and my flashcards for a good two hours. Riveting stuff. And you have to actually let me study.” Her voice was pointed, half because of his hold on her, and half because of the way he was peppering kisses against her shoulder, making her mind a bit fuzzy.

“I’ll behave. Might take a nap actually.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Silence filled the apartment for a moment and he let his eyes close, relaxing until he felt her body start to shake with a quiet laugh.

“Baby?” She tried it out.

“Hmmmm,” he hummed, heart fluttering at his new nickname.

“You have to let me get up and get my flashcards.”

“You stay, I’ll get em.”

He slid her to the side with ease, standing up quickly from the couch in search of her backpack. Once he found it on the kitchen stool he pulled it open, unsurprised to see a planner big enough to be a novel, and stacks upon stacks of index cards.

“Jesus Indy, how many of these do you have?!”

“They’re for all my classes, I just need the blue ones, the ones in the blue rubber band.”

He didn’t have to ask - he knew every course she had was color coded, no doubt. He brought them over to her with a smile once he’d found them, looking at her perfectly neat handwriting, spelling out a word that he was sure he wouldn’t be able to read even if the letters didn’t jumble in his head.

“Which class are you working on tonight?”

“Pathopharmacology.”

“In English maybe?”

“Drugs. Well, conditions and diseases, why they happen in the body, and then the drugs that you should use and what they do.”

“Well then it’s definitely nap time for me,” he grinned, passing her the cards and sitting down on the couch beside her. He hesitated, eyes flickering around to the pillows and blankets, and the opposite side of the couch. The last thing he wanted to do was move further away from her, but he didn’t want to crowd her, or get in her way, make her regret letting him stay.

“C’mere.”

When he looked over, she was patting her leg, and in a moment of impulse he launched himself over, immediately getting cozy. Her leggings were soft against his cheek and he sighed, relaxing fully, muscles turning to mush when her fingers moved to his hair, starting to scratch lightly over his scalp.

“Oh god,” he groaned, making her halt her movements.

“What?!”

“Feels so nice.”

She laughed and went back to his hair.

“So you’re a sucker for a good head scratch huh? Noted.”

“Back scratches too. Those are my shit.” It took him a moment to realize that he’d never told a girl that before. It was too soft, too… personal.

“Well, I can’t really scratch your back through a sweater. But if you wanna take it off I can-”

Before she finished her sentence he was sitting up and whipping it off, tossing it towards the kitchen without a care, giving her cheek a quick kiss before he settled back down again.

“You’re adorable,” she hummed, nails starting in his hair first and then tracing down his neck, over his shoulders and then down his back in long, gentle runs. His shoulders went slack against her, and she knew that her legs were going to fall asleep with the weight of him on them but she didn’t care. She waited until his breathing settled, quiet snores starting to sound out in the room being her final tell that he’d actually fallen asleep. She kept her cards in one hand and used the other to scratch, occasionally getting sidetracked and tracing her fingers over the lions on his back, the script along the edges. Others came before me. Others to come. She made a mental note to ask him what it meant one day, but instead she let him sleep and continued in her studies, tracing more letters over his back.

If he’d been awake, he would have been soaring at the feeling of the words she was forming letter by letter.

I-L-O-V-E-Y-O-U.

But he wasn’t awake - in fact, he didn’t wake up until 10:30, when she shook his shoulder gently. He sat up with adorably bleary eyes, gaining his bearings and then moving to pull her against him again - so forceful that he actually pulled her into his lap and nuzzled into her neck.

“Done studying?”

She nodded against him, resting her cheek on his head.

“Come to Jersey with me.”

“Huh?” She pulled back, her back arching from the way his hands held her hips close to him,

“Your exam got moved to next week right? It’s supposed to be really warm on Friday, the last warm day we're gonna get. I want you to see Jersey, before it gets too cold. I can show you the land where we’re building the tiny homes, and take you to my mom’s house. You can meet her, and Ethan, and get some non-city air.”

She could have pulled out ten things in that sentence that made her anxious - meeting his mom, meeting his twin, not having enough time to study - but there was an excitement in his eyes that had her melting. Even if she’d wanted to, she wouldn’t have been able to say no.

“Okay. Yeah, let’s do it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I could use a non-city day,” she smiled, leaning in to kiss him. She could feel the excitement in his lips as they moved against hers, hands roaming up to cup her cheeks.

“You’re gonna love it.”

And she knew that no matter what they did or where they went, she would, just because she’d be with him.

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

“Bro, I can’t. I gotta rent a car.”

“You are not gonna fucking rent a car for one damn day Grayson. It’s fine.”

“It’s camo and tiger striped bro. It’s a fucking truck.”

“And? We’re in fucking Jersey, it doesn’t matter.”

“You wouldn’t have picked up Eden for a fuckin date in a spray painted Tacoma, Ethan.”

“Okay true, but only because I would have planned better and asked mom to borrow her fucking car.”

Grayson resisted the urge to pick up a rock and throw it at him. Instead, he just threw the football back down the driveway with a little more force than necessary. Ethan grunted when he caught it, rolling his eyes.

“From what you’ve said she’s pretty chill. I don’t think she’s gonna care.” He tried a gentler approach, hoping it would calm his brother down as he threw the ball back. They volleyed back and forth for a few minutes in silence, listening to the tree frogs’ song from the woods - they were getting quieter as the nights grew longer and the warmth started to fade out of New Jersey.

“Will you at least help me wash it real quick? It’s muddy.”

“Bro.”

“Fine. But I’m not vacuuming the inside, that’s all you.”

Ten minutes later and they were outside with a few old sponges and the garden hose, scrubbing away at the dirt and grime that they’d accumulated from all their back road driving. They blasted music, occasionally taking breaks to text their girls back. Ethan felt the nervous energy coming off of Grayson’s every move, and it softened him up a bit.

“You really like this girl huh?” He spoke up while they were both scrubbing the hood.

“Yeah bro. I actually think I might be in love with her.”

Ethan resisted the urge to tell him to pump the brakes - it was all reverse psychology with his twin. If he told him to slow down, he’d only speed up, and there was no use in pissing him off.

“I’m excited to finally meet her. Maybe you’ll stop talking about her constantly.”

That earned him a well deserved spray from the hose that soaked through his shirt, and then it devolved into throwing sponges and a wrestling match on the gravel that had Lisa laughing from the kitchen window. But eventually the truck was clean, and as Ethan watched him vacuum it out three times over, he realized just how serious his brother was about Indiana. So on Thursday night, over late night veggie burgers after Grayson got back from the city, he opted to offer him some advice.

“Snacks.”

“Huh?”

“Buy snacks, before you pick her up. Girls love snacks.”

“Yeah? What kind of snacks?”

“I don’t know bro, it’s your girl.”

“Ask Eden.”

“Girl snacks are not universal.”

“Then how the fuck am I supposed to know what to get?”

“I don’t know dude! Just… fucking guess?”

Which was how Grayson ended up in a gas station in New York early on Friday morning, perusing the same aisle for the third time, arms already full of any snack that he thought she might like. He settled for a good mixture of things - some salty, some sweet, and a few different drinks before he went to the counter and paid, hoping he had something she would like within the mix.

As soon as he got back into the truck he unpacked it all neatly and checked his phone, happy to see a text from her.

do I need to bring anything?

and do you want a coffee? I can make one and bring it with me

He looked down at the three drinks he’d already bought.

Nah, maybe just a pair of shoes you don’t mind getting dirty

And hell yeah to the coffee

Please :)

just text me when you’re here and I’ll come down so you don’t have to park!

He liked the message and started the truck, wincing a bit at the roar of the engine before he pulled out of the lot with Indy’s apartment in the GPS.

Indiana knew he wasn’t supposed to get there until 9. He’d told her that it would be between 9 and 9:15 depending on traffic. But still, she was in the lobby at 8:50 with two coffee tumblers in her hands, trying to keep her nerves in check. She looked in the mirror, checking her outfit again. A black crop top, maroon leggings and a pair of chacos that Charlie had gotten her last year for her birthday. Simple enough. But was it too simple? Grayson always dressed so well - he even managed to make hoodies look put together.

She didn’t have time to think on it, because her phone buzzed in her hand.

Here :)

In the orange truck 🥴

Indy walked out to the curb to see Grayson standing on the sidewalk, tall and broad, as if he was trying to hide the vehicle behind him. It was indeed a bright orange truck, but there were small spray painted stripes on it. It took her a moment to realize they were supposed to be tiger stripes, and with every moment that she spent looking at it his cheeks grew redder with embarrassment. She didn’t say anything, but it didn’t matter - he was already stammering out his explanation that she was sure he’d rehearsed in the car.

“I uh- we did it for a video - we thought it would look cool, and uh, actually it looks like shit, but we got a truck cause we didn’t wanna have to worry about a car and-”

She moved his coffee into the crook of her arm and grabbed the front of his t shirt in her fist, pulling him down to kiss him, lips falling silent against hers.

“Hi,” she said when she pulled away, popping up to give him another quick peck. She couldn’t get enough of it, couldn’t believe that she just got to do that whenever she wanted to.

“Hi.” He beamed down at her. “Missed you.”

“You saw me last night.”

“And?” He leaned down and stole another kiss - she felt like a middle schooler hiding behind the buses from the teachers, just trying to sneak in a few more kisses before they left for the day. “You ready?”

She nodded and blushed when he opened her door for her, hand moving to her ass to help boost her up even though she didn’t need it. She wasn’t complaining, moving over to put the coffee in the cupholder as he jogged around the car and got into the driver’s seat.

“I missed you too, for the record.”

He reached his hand over and squeezed her thigh.

“Good. Now let’s go to fuckin’ Jersey, I brought snacks.”

“I can see that,” she teased, looking down at the floorboard where two whole grocery bags were stuffed full. “Did you buy the whole store? We doing a cross country road trip I didn’t know about?”

He blushed bright pink, keeping his eyes trained on the speedometer.

“Just wanted to make sure I got something you liked.”

She rummaged around in the bags, happy to find a packet of Chex Mix.

“Breakfast of champions,” she grinned, pulling the edges open and popping a few into her mouth. A comfortable silence filled the cab, and it made her hyper aware of everything that Grayson did, from the way he palmed the wheel to the way he ran his thumb along her thigh. They made it out of Manhattan as easily as you can ever get out of Manhattan, Grayson managing to maneuver the traffic despite being in a pick up truck, and she found herself relaxing more and more with each mile out of the city that they drove. Cityscape turned into suburbs with patches of tall green trees and farmland between denser areas, and she couldn’t decide where to look - out the window at the beauty, or at Grayson, who was watching her every second that he could.

“Told you it was amazing out here. Jersey hits different than anywhere else in the world.”

“The whole world huh? You’ve been around the world?”

“Yeah. We did a world tour a while back, got to see a ton of places.”

“Of course you did. Tell me about them,” she hummed, scooting up in her seat so she could lean over against his shoulder, wrapping her arm around his and snuggling up to him. He pressed a kiss to her hair and smiled.

“Well, we started here, in Jersey. And then we went to Maryland, then New York. I think Detroit was next, and then Chicago, which was super cool.”

The cadence of his voice was soothing, and she listened as he listed off state after state, and then moved into countries. Brazil, Argentina, the UK, France, Ireland, Spain. It went on and on, and she laughed at the little anecdotes of the crazy things they got up to in every city, their 16 year old selves taking the world by storm. He could have been talking about the color of his socks and she would have been just as enthralled. She spent her time looking at the tattoos that she could see in person for the first time, scattered across his legs, shown off by his shorts. She’d seen them in her few limited scrolls of his instagram - every time she got on there it only intimidated her to see the comments and the thousands and thousands of likes. But in person, they were even more beautiful, small pieces that no doubt had significance to him. She held back from asking him about them as he spoke.

The drive flew by, even though it was over an hour before there was gravel crunching under the tires of the truck as he turned into the driveway. Her stomach started to tighten as she sat up, suddenly realizing what she was up against. The house was beautiful - bigger than she expected, with white siding and dark metal window frames, a large front porch with a small swing and scattered furniture. It looked neat, but lived in at the same time, welcoming and warm.

“Where’d you go?” Grayson asked, nudging her shoulder.

“Sorry, I’m here. Just nervous.”

“Ma is at work, and Ethan is nothing to be scared of. Trust me.”

“Does that mean I should be scared of your mom?”

He only answered with a laugh, shaking his head as he parked the truck and hopped out to open her door. He held out a hand to help her jump down, arm going around her shoulder as soon as her feet touched the ground, leading her towards the house.

He opened the door for her, motioning her inside of the foyer, which was nicely decorated - it looked a bit like the farmhouse section of Hobby Lobby; not her style, but nice nonetheless.

“Yo E!” Grayson called out through the house.

He was met with a returning yell, and an odd screech from somewhere else in the house that made her tighten her hold on his arm.

“The fuck was that?”

“Gizmo.”

“Who?”

“My bird. I’m allergic to literally anything with fur, so we got a bird when I was little. She’s a cutie.”

Indiana had never in her life thought a bird was anything close to cute, but she nodded anyways, focusing on the sound of what she presumed were Ethan’s heavy footsteps coming down the stairs.

He appeared around the corner a moment later with a big smile - different from Grayson’s somehow, despite the similarities across their features. The biggest contrast was his clean shaven jawline - Grayson had kept a healthy scruff since you’d known him.

“Hey! I’m Ethan, it’s nice to meet you. Indiana, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me!” She kicked herself for the way her voice went up an octave.

“That’s such a cool name.”

“Thank you!”

There was a small beat of silence that made Grayson laugh.

“You ready to go out to Woodland?” He turned his attention to his twin - Indy assumed that meant the land where the tiny homes were.

“Yeah, but we gotta get gas for the quads to take out there.”

“We got some in the shed?”

Grayson nodded and turned to lead the way, giving her a quick kiss before they disappeared around the side of the house. As soon as they were out of sight she checked herself in the side mirror of the truck, smoothing her hair down quickly and trying to find a way to look casual as she waited for them to reappear. She opted to go for the default of scrolling her phone, happy to see a message from Charlie.

Miss your face. Facetime later? She’d sent, with a picture of her and Devin with a massive Washington waterfall behind them attached. It was a beautiful sight - she was slightly jealous that her sister got to see so much of the world while she saw the inside of textbooks and the screens of laptops.

On a date today, can we do it tomorrow?

It took all of three seconds for Charlie to read it and reply.

EXCUSE ME?

A DATE???

MA’AM

I’ll fill you in later, gotta go. Love you

Right on cue, the boys reappeared with an old red gas can each, wide smiles on their faces.

BITCH YOU FUCKIN BETTER

She locked her phone quickly and tucked it in her waistband, moving towards the back door as they loaded the cans into the bed. Ethan looked at her, then her hand on the car door handle, and frowned.

“You don’t think you’re sitting in the back, do you?”

“I didn’t know if twins automatically got shotgun rights,” she shrugged.

“Most times yes, but girlfriends are the exception.” He pulled the door open and waved her in. “Up you get.”

Girlfriend.

Grayson was already in the driver’s seat, and he held up a small aux cord with a grin.

“You’re up.”

She narrowed her eyes as he started the truck up with a roar.

“Why do I feel like this is a test?”

All he did was smile and put the truck in reverse.

Indiana took the safe route, pulling up Cudi and shuffling it, laughing when Ethan perked up in the back with a “oh hell yeah!”

The drive was long, about 45 minutes down the road, but she didn’t mind; the cab was full of the comforting feelings of slightly off-key singing in her ears and Grayson’s hand in hers on the console. Her heart fluttered in her chest when he brought her hand up to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles before he pulled the truck off on a dirt path and put it in park.

“Here we are. Well, almost. Gotta take the quads the rest of the way.”

He could have said anything and she would have been fine with it. She climbed out of the truck, moving to the bed to grab one of the gas cans, hoisting it up on her shoulder so she could carry it easier.

“Hey, gimme that,” Grayson mumbled, reaching up for it. She turned away, just out of his reach.

“I got it!” She watched Ethan go around to grab the other one, just out of earshot, giving her a chance to lean over to Grayson and ask the question poking in the back of her mind. “Did I pass the test?”

He shook his head with a laugh. “There’s no test. If Ethan didn’t like you, you’d already know.”

“True!” Ethan teased, sneaking up on her and snagging the can from her shoulder, passing it to his brother. She nudged his shoulder with hers on instinct, glad to see that he laughed. There was a comforting warmth about Ethan - he reminded her of Devin in a lot of ways. He gave off a sense of automatic, unquestionable good that had her at ease as they walked over to a shed hidden away in the trees. Ethan unlocked it, pulling the doors open to reveal the parked quads. She watched the trees while they filled up the gas tanks, enjoying the sounds of the woods until she felt Grayson’s hand snake around her waist.

“You ready baby?”

She nodded, leaning into him for a second before following him over to the quad, letting him climb on first and settling behind him.

“Hold on,” he said, but she would have wrapped her arms around his middle anyways, resting her chin on his shoulder as he started it up and backed it out, Ethan following suit.

They picked up speed and she nuzzled into his back, returning his beaming smile when he looked back to check on her occasionally, wind whipping both of their hair around. They rode for about 5 minutes, a long stretch back through the towering trees. The only sign they were coming up on the houses was a thinning of the woods, which eventually gave way almost immediately to a large, bright opening - a meadow of sorts, framed out by trees. A few had started to tease with fall, bunches of their leaves turning bright orange and red, scattered amongst the green.

The boys cut their engines almost in sync, the silence revealing the song of the birds and the bugs.

“Welcome to the Jers homes,” Grayson beamed proudly, nodding ahead.

Indiana looked over his shoulder and had to bite back her laugh.

In the middle of the clearing were two small platforms - foundations, she realized after a moment. They were spread out enough for comfort, but close enough that it wouldn’t take more than a minute to walk between the front doors. And they truly were tiny homes if she’d ever seen one - the space looked no bigger than her living room and kitchen combined in her apartment.

“Which one’s yours?”

“That one,” he pointed to the left. “I’m always on the left, Ethan’s always on the right.”

“Even in houses?”

“Even in houses,” he laughed. “C’mon, I’ll show you around.”

She gave him her hand and let him lead her over, stepping onto the platform and listening intently as he started to explain the floorplan in his head.

“So, this is the kitchen,” he exaggerated it, gesturing grandly to the piece of plywood below his feet. “It’s gonna have a cabinet here, and then a sink and a little stove, which will go here. And then the bathroom is gonna be over there-”

It turned into a bit of a stretch for Indiana’s imagination, trying to envision all the rooms, and even the loft that he was describing. But she did her best, matching his enthusiasm however she could, asking questions about anything she could think of just to show him that she cared. He was so excited, and the last thing she wanted to do was damper it because she couldn’t picture the shower tile he was describing.

When the “house tour” was done it was Ethan’s turn for an imaginary walk through, which was surprisingly different than his brother’s despite the house being the same size and general base.

“And now, we go to the best part,” Grayson grinned.

“Oh?”

“C’mon, I’ll show you. Leave your phone and stuff.”

She did as he asked, surprised that when she stood straight again and saw that both the boys were shirtless, tossing their clothes onto the wood. Ethan headed off towards the trees but Grayson stayed back and waited for her, smiling softly when she automatically took his hand.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see. It’s a surprise. Which I feel like is probably not your favorite.”

She didn’t answer, which was answer enough, and he just laughed and swung their hands between the two of them as they started into the trees.

The surprise turned up a few minutes later, in the form of the running water of a New Jersey creek and a rocky cliff side that Ethan sauntered on to with far too much confidence for Indiana’s liking.

“Careful!” She called out on instinct, holding onto Grayson’s arm tightly as he moved to follow his brother.

“We always are. C’mon,” he smiled, starting to lead the two of them over. She locked her knees and shook her head.

“Oh fuck no.”

Both twins' eyebrows lifted, and then they were cackling, laughter so loud it bounced off the trees.

“Why not!? You scared?” Ethan jeered, toes over the edge of the clifface. It couldn’t be more than 25 feet high, but even that had her stomach tightening.

“You’re not?”

With that, Ethan threw her a wink and flung himself over the edge, flipping backwards once and splashing into the water feet first.

“Show off,” Gray muttered, rolling his eyes a bit. “There’s nothing to be scared of baby, we’ve been doing this since we were kids. That’s why we bought this land.”

“Nothing to be scared of,” she scoffed. “How about traumatic brain injuries? Spinal cord injuries? Broken leg? Broken ankle? Broken neck?”

“Hey.” He took her face in his hands. “This isn’t anatomy class. Get out of your head, live a little. It’s fun.”

“It’s reckless,” she countered.

“Reckless fun.”

She scowled at him, but he couldn’t take it seriously with the way her cheeks were slightly squished by his palms. He leaned forward and kissed her softly. She didn’t react on purpose, though it took quite a bit of self control.

“Will you try it? For me?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow. Off to their right, Ethan was scaling the rocks to get back up from the water, yelling about something, but her attention was on Grayson. She held her ground, didn’t react as best she could, resisted the urge to give him whatever he wanted.

“Please?” He tried again, pressing another kiss to her lips. He smiled when he felt her loosen up, realizing that it was working. “For me?”

“Maybe,” she mumbled.

“I’ll keep you safe. Promise,” he whispered, running his thumbs along her cheeks as he kissed her again, somehow softer that time, and her resolve melted into a puddle.

“You better,” she mumbled, still scowling a bit. It was more adorable than intimidating to Grayson.

“So you’ll do it?”

“Once. One time. That’s it.”

“I can deal with that. C’mon, before you talk yourself out of it.”

She kept a vice grip on his hand as he started towards the cliff, where the dirt gave way to solid rock. She stayed behind him with hesitant steps, shuffling her way over until they were above the water, keeping her eyes on Grayson, forcing herself not to look down.

“Now when we go, you can’t lock up. That’s how you get hurt. If you just jump, you’ll be fine, I swear.”

Indiana nodded and sucked in a deep breath.

“Just don’t let go of me, okay?” She asked.

“I won’t. Promise. You count us off.”

He was patient with her as she worked up the courage, settled her shaking legs as best she could.

She counted down from three and forced her legs to move, Grayson’s momentum helping to pull her off the ledge. There was a roar in her ears, a mixture of her own scream and the wind as her stomach dropped before she hit the water. Any breath she had left was gone when she submerged into what felt like an ice bath - she hadn’t accounted for the fact that despite the abnormally warm day, it had been in the low 60’s the last few weeks.

By the time she came up, Grayson was already swimming over to her, eyes alight with adrenaline as he reached out for her waist in the murky water and pulled her to him.

“See! Told you it was fun!”

“Don’t know if that’s the word I would use,” Indiana laughed, shaking her head and moving some of her wet hair out of her face. “But now I can say I did it.”

“Such a badass,” he teased. “C’mon, gotta get out of E’s way.”

She looked up to see Ethan waiting patiently at the top of the cliff - had she really fallen all that way? Grayson led them away slightly, cheering as Ethan jumped and flipped again. There was an athletic nature to the way he moved that put Indiana’s mind a bit more at ease - he seemed to have enough control over his body to make sure he didn’t land wrong, and she hoped the same principle applied to his twin when he climbed out and went to do his own backflips.

Indiana stayed to the water, wading around and trying not to panic every time she watched Grayson plummet down towards the water. She squealed when he over-rotated on one, landing a bit off kilter. She swam to him as quickly as she could, overwhelmed with the concern she had that he was okay. But when he reemerged he was laughing and shaking the water out of his hair.

The cycle continued on for a while - Indiana lost track of the time, only realizing how long she’d been in the cold water by the numbness of her limbs. With the climbing out and up the cliff, Grayson didn’t even notice the cold until he saw her wrap her arms around herself when she thought he wasn’t looking from up on the cliff.

“Last jump E, we gotta get back for food anyways,” he told his brother, jumping quickly and kicking hard to get back up to the surface, immediately swimming over to her. When he got closer, he realized she was shivering slightly, and her lips had a bit of a blue tint to them that had him frowning.

“You’re freezing aren’t you?”

“I’ve been warmer,” she admitted with a smile. Trying to play it off - typical Indiana, he realized.

“You should have said something,” he pouted, pulling her to him. Her hands were ice cold as they wrapped around his neck.

“You all were having fun, and I’m fine.”

“Right. C’mon, let’s get you back. Mom’s making potato soup for dinner. Vegan though.”

“Dinner? What time is it?”

“By the time we get back it’ll probably be 5. We’ve been out here a couple hours.”

“No shit,” she laughed, surprised by his words. It was like minutes to Grayson too - he couldn’t manage to get an amount of time with her that felt like enough it seemed. They swam over to the edge, going a bit farther down so Indiana didn’t have to climb as much, making their way up with soaked pants and smiles on their faces, which stayed there as they took the same path back to the houses. She’d thawed out marginally it seemed, but Grayson could tell she was still cold just from the way she was cuddled up to his side. So when they got back to the pile of their belongings, he held out his shirt for her.

“Here. Extra layer for the quad ride, so the wind isn’t so bad.”

He knew exactly what she was going to say before she said it, so he said it before she could.

“For me?” He tried his earlier line, holding up the black wad of fabric and wiggling his eyebrows.

She faltered, argument falling silent. He’d found a new loophole to her apparent inability to let anyone take care of her, and he ran with it, pulling the shirt down over her head and kissing her nose when it reappeared. He could feel Ethan’s eyes on him somewhere behind him - he knew what he was thinking, what he’d say later about how “soft” Grayson was. His bigger, stronger brother, soft for a girl he’d met only a few weeks ago. He’d seen this trajectory before, and never held his tongue on what he thought about it either, but Grayson hoped he could see that this time, it was different.

Different, because of the way he still got butterflies when she climbed on the quad behind him and pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder. Because of the way he threw the keys to Ethan so he could drive the truck home and the two of them could curl up in the backseat to warm her up. Because of the way she just seemed to fit, with him and with Ethan, in every way.

The last one to make a verdict was Lisa, whose car was parked in the driveway when they made it back. Indiana’s relaxed body tensed up, and he noticed her trying to adjust her still damp leggings, make herself look more presentable.

“You’re fine.”

“I’m meeting your mother wearing your shirt and pants that smell like mud.”

“Mom’s chill. You have nothing to worry about. Actually, she’ll probably be mad at me, since I didn’t bring you dry clothes.”

They climbed out of the back and followed Ethan inside, met again by the sound of squawking as soon as the door opened.

“MA!” Ethan called out, voice booming throughout the entire house.

“In here!”

The trio followed her voice, happy to find her in the kitchen and over a massive pot of soup. They kissed her cheek, one after the other and then moved on to start picking at her ingredients like scavengers that had never been fed. She smacked Ethan’s shoulder when he took one too many carrots.

“You must be Indiana, it’s nice to finally meet you! Heard so much about you!” Lisa’s smile was warm - different than Grayson’s though. He must have gotten it from his father. She wondered who he got his tendency to blush from as his cheeks flushed red at his mom’s words.

“So nice to meet you! That soup smells delicious,” Indy complimented. “Anything I can help with?”

“Well, if you’re offering.”

The kitchen was soon full of laughter and stories as they each took on a job to finish off the soup. Lisa asked about school, and Indiana’s family, her apartment and Bekah.

“So you’re set to graduate in December then? That’s amazing! You must be a smart little cookie.”

“She is,” Grayson chimed in with a smile, and it was Indy’s turn to blush.

Eventually the soup was finished and served out into bowls that were carried to a dining room framed out with tall windows. Indiana couldn’t remember the last time that she’d actually sat and had a meal with a full table around her.

Lisa was a kind woman, not much unlike Indiana’s own mom. She had a feeling that with the boys for kids that she was used to bringing all sorts of people in her house and treating them as her own, and it seemed Indiana was no exception. When she asked questions, Indy could tell that she cared, that she genuinely wanted to know. She hadn’t had an adult invest in her like that in a long while, and she couldn’t dwell on it without her throat tightening up.

By the time their bowls were empty Indiana felt like she’d been in the house for years - like she was home. Lisa took her around, offered her some clean clothes - some old running shorts of Cameron’s for her to change into. She opted to keep on Grayson’s shirt on instead of changing, letting Lisa guide her around the house and show off the rooms she’d decorated while the boys showered off the muck of the creek.

And her new favorite aspect of the house? The espresso machine that caught her eye at the small coffee bar off the kitchen.

“Is that a mastrena?” Indy asked, eyes wide. She knew the price tag on those from her time at Jets - 5k, minimum.

“Oh yeah, that old thing. The boys bought it for me for mother’s day a few years back, I never could figure out how to work it right, to make lattes,” she sighed.

“I could show you if you want! I used one just like this when I was a barista.”

“Did someone say barista?” Ethan perked up, poking his head around the corner. Grayson was right after him, now with a hoodie on, poking over his shoulder in a way that had all of them laughing.

And so Grayson watched as Indiana gathered a few mugs and the rest of the almond milk from the fridge. He stood out of the way, listened to the way she explained how to froth the milk right to his mom, voice gentle without any trace of condescendence. No other girl he’d ever brought home had been so invested in his mother, in talking to her and getting to know her. It warmed his heart the same way that the mug Indiana handed him warmed his fingertips.

“Ran outta milk. Looks like we have to share,” she hummed. Ethan and Lisa had made themselves scarce once they’d gotten their mugs - E would’ve told her it was the best latte he’d ever had, but he saw the suggestive look in his brother’s eyes and went on to distract Lisa instead.

“I’m down,” he teased, passing her the mug. “Come out here with me for a minute.”

He headed towards the front of the house, through the hallways and past the living room, back out to the front porch. The air had cooled off even more, and while she was grateful for the clean shorts, her legs were covered in goosebumps by the time they made it over to the swing. Grayson sat down first, keeping it still with his foot on the ground as he patted his lap.

In a moment of impulse she sat down facing him - it took a moment for her to get arranged and comfortable, but eventually she settled over his thighs, coffee cup in hands and legs around his back.

“I’m gonna have to start packing an extra blanket for you or some shit, you’re freezing,” he teased, chafing his hands up and down her thighs to get some friction for her cold skin. She couldn’t help but notice the way her body reacted to it, and she was glad that the sun was setting, dimming the light that would give away the flush of her cheeks and neck.

“The coffee will keep me warm,” she teased.

“Can I have a sip?”

She held the mug up to his lips and tilted it so he could have a drink, laughing at the little bit of foam that clung to his upper lip when he was done. She kissed it away, wishing she didn’t have the mug in her hands so that she could run her hands through his hair, or over his scruff - anywhere that he’d have her. They kissed slow, quiet, for a while, letting it sizzle out before they pulled back. It had gotten darker when she opened her eyes again, but his smile was just as bright, even in the twilight.

“Did you have a good day?” He hummed, taking the mug from her so she could hold on to him as he started to swing them slowly, back and forth in a soothing rocking.

“The best.”

He hesitated for a moment, taking the end of her hair and twirling it between his fingers.

“Wanna make it a night then?”

She was pretty sure if she’d been attached to a heart monitor, it would have shown a skipped beat.

“Oh?” Her mouth was a bit dry, a mixture of more nerves than excitement.

“A sleepover. Nothing else. We can even do it middle school style if you want, I’ll take the couch,” he reassured her, poking at her side just to get her to laugh, to loosen up.

“We don’t have to go that far. But won’t your mom care?”

“I think you’re her new favorite, so I’m sure she’d love it if you stayed. She always makes good breakfast when one of our girlfriend’s spends the night too.”

“Girlfriend hmmm? Bold assumption,” Indy teased, running a thumb over his cheek.

Her joke didn’t land, seeing that he his eyes went wide in a bit of panic and his shoulders tensed.

“I uh… I just thought, um-”

“Kidding Gray. Though to be fair, you never asked.” She kissed him again to finish off her point, happy to feel him relax underneath her as he nuzzled into her neck.

“Well, will you be my girlfriend then?” He muttered against her skin.

“I guess,” she grinned, pulling back enough to get back to his lips and kiss him again. “Do girlfriend’s get shower privileges? I feel disgusting, and I don’t want to get your bed all gross.”

He laughed at that, shaking his head.

“You’re always three steps ahead, you know that?” He brushed his nose against hers lightly. “C’mon, I’ll get you set up.”

Thirty minutes later and Indiana was finally warm after her shower, happy in a pair of running shorts, one of Grayson’s hoodies and a pair of his socks. When she made it to the bedroom he was sprawled out over the covers, shirtless in a pair of joggers.

“Hi gorgeous,” he hummed, putting his phone on the nightstand and opening his arms.

“That’s a new one,” she mused as she climbed on with him, curling up to his chest like she’d done it a hundred times before. It was much more comfortable than when she’d done so on the couch in her apartment, the warm blanket below her and the soft plush of the mattress giving them plenty of room for him to wrap her up in both arms.

“It’s fitting. A little long though. Might have to find a shorter one to use sometimes.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Been thinking about it. I thought about indigo for a minute, but that’s just as long. What about Dee?”

She looked up at him then, tracing her fingers over his chest, over his heart. D-E-E.

“No one’s ever called me that before.”

“Then it’s all mine. My Dee.”

All she could do was sigh and curl into him further, unable to find the words for the lightness of her body, and her mind, as he held her and pressed a kiss to her forehead, as if he were determined to hold her there until they woke up.

#mixtape #SHES HERE #all 9.4k of her HAHA #hope you love it pls pls pls tell me what you think!#grayson dolan #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan fic

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crystalessenceswrites · 3 years

Text

Burden of the Survivors- Chapter Two

Burden of the Survivors

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader Rating: T (at the moment- subject to change) Warnings: swearing, canon-typical violence *no spoilers- takes place in Season 1 timeline* Summary: Mando works alone- except for when the absolutely can’t. There are few people Din trusts – trusts as in he doesn’t expect a viroblade in the back the second he’s turned around. She’s one of them. Just as cautious and nearly as tight lipped about her past as he is, Din doesn’t mind her around too much. A/N: My inspiration is a fickle thing, I’ve been swinging back and forth between Shadows and BotS for a few weeks now. Finally got enough to sit down and finish this chapter, so cheers to that.

[Masterlist] [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Three] Cross-posted to AO3

Chapter Two

When Vero found you, you were nothing but a pickpocket on the lower-level streets of Coruscant-the byproduct of the horrors of the Clone Wars and the rise of the Empire. You were nearing sixteen and beginning to lose your touch. When you were younger-and smaller-it was easier to weave through crowds and avoid attention. Puberty and a growth spurt made it much more difficult for the teenage you to blend in. You made it work, you had to if you wanted to get by, but it took twice as much work to get folks to look the other way. Ever observant Vero caught on quick but said you had potential, just not as a street thief. The alabaster skinned theelin approached you with a job, a job that paid more than you could scrounge up in two weeks selling your stolen treasures. All you had to do was deliver a small parcel to a pilot friend of his at a docking station a few levels up without getting caught by the city guard before the pilot was scheduled to leave in two hours. It seemed easy enough and you desperately needed the credits. The last thing on your mind was what was in the package you carried. You knew better than to stick your nose where it did not belong, especially when you were getting paid. That decision changed your life.

The job was a test to see if you were capable and trustworthy enough to bring on for a real job as a runner, and you passed with flying colors. Vero took you under his wing and had you running smuggled goods and other products all over Coruscant. It was a reckless job, you knew that-even as a child-but it kept a roof over your head and food in your belly at a time in your life when you had forgotten what that was like. You were one of many street kids on Coruscant that had to turn to life in the underworld to get by, but you thank the Maker you ended up with the one crew on Coruscant that had some small sense of morals.

Vero worked for Shan Tillis, who had grown up on the streets of Corellia himself. Shan was sympathetic, smuggling had been his way out of the gutter, and he offered you that same opportunity. It had not taken long for Shan and the others to realize you were too smart and too quick on your feet to just move goods, that you and your brain could be used elsewhere. So, they taught you. Kom and Redarr, Shan’s lead muscle heads, taught you how to fight and how to fight dirty. Sola bought you your first proper viroblade (you’d nicked one years ago but it was made for hands much larger than yours so you’d always been rather clumsy with it) and taught you every trick in the book she knew, every weak spot on the body, how to wound but not kill and where to bleed someone out the fastest. Her lessons were always your favorite. Tala taught you how to pilot every kind of ship you could get your hands on, and how to hotwire a landspeeder- Vero was not thrilled when he discovered that lesson had been performed on his precious baby.

Everything that made you into the infamous bounty hunter you were now had been taught to you by that crew. Every cautious tick had been drilled into you by Kom and Vero. Redarr had schooled you on blasters, made you practice in-between jobs on how to take them apart and put them back together with your eyes closed. Zena taught you how to read people and how to know when a deal was about to go south.

Shan imparted you with the most practical wisdom of them all. How to know when you’re fucked.

This job seems pretty fucked to you.

The Mandalorian is silent as the two of you settle on the ridge above the compound. Scope out, he looks over the cluster of buildings. Even from a distance you’ve already counted ten nikto out and about, and you can safely assume they’re all heavily armed.

You tighten the various straps and holsters on your person before slipping your tactical mask into place. The contraption covers the lower half of your face and has always been more for the intimidation factor than much else. Redarr had gifted it to you all those years ago as more of joke than practical gear but you’d grown attached. Between the mask and its voice modulator, your hood and dark, nondescript clothes you could remained relatively anonymous when you wanted to, which was most of the time.

“If we come along the east side I think I can make it up to the roof without being seen, provide you with a little more cover.” You did always prefer the higher ground.

Mando nods, continuing to scan the scene, “there’s two on the northwest corner you’ll have to manage.”

Your scoff crackles through the modulator, “they won’t be an issue.”

He grunts before his head snaps back towards the edge of the compound, “shit. Bounty droid.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You whip out your own scope, focusing in on where Mando was watching. Sure enough, you spot an IG unit bounty droid making its way up to the group of nikto lingering outside.

“Subparagraph 16 of the Bondsman Guild Protocol Waiver compels you to immediately produce said asset.”

You roll your eyes as the shooting starts. Droids had to have figured out by now it was never that easy. If it was, anyone with a blaster could join the guild.

The droid has a handle on the gunfight, but you groan as you watch the compound go into lockdown, all the blast doors slam shut before the last shot is fired.

“Droids.” Mando snaps as he stands, one hand clenched around the hilt of a blaster.

You jump up, following behind him. Again, with the acting first, thinking second.

As you approach the encampment Mando jerks his head up, “you take the topside.”

“Gladly.”

You scramble up the side of the building with relative ease, there are plenty of odd pipes and vents that make convenient grips as you haul yourself and up over the lip of the roof. When the droid had ruined any chance at a surprise attack, you’d lost sight of the two guards on the roof. You keep your rifle aimed in their last known direction as you settle onto your stomach, ready to cover Mando as needed.

“Subparagraph 16 of the Bondsman Guild Protocol Waiver compels you to immediately produce said asset,” the droid repeats.

Maker they really have no learning curve.

“IG unit! Stand down!”

The bounty droid has split second reaction times, shooting at what you can safely assume is Mando when he groans from somewhere down below and out of view. “We’re in the Guild!”

“So I suggest you stand down before you take a bolt to the brains, droid.”

Your quip draws the droid’s attention to your vantage point on the roof.

“You are Guild members? I thought I was the only one on assignment.”

“That makes two of us,” Mando grumbles. “So much for the element of surprise.”

That was a kriffing understatement.

“Sadly, I must ask for your fob. I have already issued the writ of seizure. The bounty is mine.”

“Unless I’m mistaken, you are, as of yet, empty-handed.”

“This is true.”

You have to restrain your eye rolling to keep monitoring the roofline.

“I have a suggestion.”

“Proceed.”

“We split the reward.”

How many people was he going to offer to share your credits with? This was beginning to get out of hand.

“This is acceptable.”

Well considering how much Mando hated droid he at least knew how to manage them considerably well.

“Great. Now let’s regroup, out of harm’s way, and form a plan.”

You were sorely doubting that the droid was capable of forming a decent plan or following whatever you and Mando came up with, but it was worth a shot considering the situation had become even more fucked thanks to him.

“I will of course receive the reputation merits associated with the mission.”

“Is this really the time?” You shout down at the pair.

Mando seems to have the same idea, “can we talk about this later?”

“I require an answer if I am to proceed-”

An orange head pops into view on the roof across from you, “we’ve got company!”

The nikto takes a shot at the droid, “oh, no. Alert. Alert. Alert.”

Whole lot of help this one was. You land a headshot just as the doors of the compound slide open, more soldiers swarming out, blasters drawn.

“Let’s go!” Mando dives for cover and the droid follows after.

Your spot affords you a decent line of sight into the courtyard but there’s more of them then you thought there would be out in the middle of nowhere guarding who knows what you were after. It takes you picking off three of them before they realize you’re shooting at them from above. There’s a flurry of shouting and pointing in your direction and Mando makes a run for the main set of blast doors at the back of the courtyard. You were going to have friends on the roof soon. Lucky you.

Rolling back you jump to your feet, taking a couple pot shots into the courtyard as you make for the far end of the roof. The droid is a decent shot, covering Mando’s mad dash while you focus on the nikto popping up across the roof. One hauls himself over the edge to your left, making a swipe at yours leg with his blaster. The loud crunch of your boot to his skull cuts through the blaster fire around you as the body falls into courtyard. Gross. Two more appear out of thin air, their shots barely missing your head. Losing your blaster you duck and roll, knocking both over as you draw a viroblade from your thigh holster. Neither have time to react before you’re on them, each taking one clean slice to the neck.

Mando and the IG unit have made it to the main door as you duck behind some ventilation equipment at the northwest corner of the building. You appear to have control of the roof for now, but you can see the soldiers in the courtyard beginning to regroup. They have Mando and the bounty droid pinned. Shit. You can hear Mando’s modulated shouts from below but you can’t quite make out what he’s going on about. Hopefully he’s chewing out the dumbass droid who go you into this mess.

The IG unit steps out again, laying out a spread of blaster fire that doesn’t seem to do much. The nikto have plenty of coverage behind debris and the series of pillars lining the courtyard. Their numbers also seem to be steadily growing. Just how many of them were set up out here? Who needed this many bodyguards? It was nearly a small army. The IG unit cannot keep up with the incoming blaster fire, even with your help from above.

Your stomach drops as you catch sight of another incoming nikto on a hover blaster at the encampment entrance. You were all fucked. All you can do is hope Mando’s found good cover down there as you drop to your stomach, bracing behind the ventilation unit. The nikto lets it rip, covering the area with a spray of bolts. Most sound like they’re striking below you, focused on where you assume Mando and the droid are hiding.

Then as suddenly as it started the gun stops. Poking your head out you watch as the nikto is flung backwards and Mando yanks the blaster to him. You thank the Maker for whatever good fortune he earned for that to work. It takes only moments for Mando to swing the blaster around and mow down the rest of the small army.

“Well done,” the IG unit cuts through the eerie silence following the blaster fire. “I will disengage self-destruct initiative.”

“Wait, you guys can self-destruct?” Seemed a bit counterintuitive.

Mando’s visor snaps to where you’re hanging over the edge of the roof, looking for a spot to climb down. He wordlessly offers you a hand and you toss your pack and blaster down to him. Its not too high up so you simply ease over the edge and drop to the ground, ignoring the harsh jolt to your knees.

“Manufactures protocol dictates I cannot be captured; thus I have a self-destruct initiative.”

So the droid could have killed you all if had deemed the situation too risky. Great. You’re glad you hadn’t been aware of that during the shootout.

Mando helps the droid back to its feet. “You know, you’re not so bad. For a droid.”

Had hell frozen over? Mando was as droid adverse as they got, and now he was complimenting one? The universe must be ending.

“Agreed.”

“That blaster hit looks nasty. You okay?”

“Running a quick diagnostic… it has missed my central wiring harness.”

“Is that good?”

“Yes.”

Mando glances back to you, “good?”

“Never better,” you grin. This could have gone significantly worse, so you had no room to complain at the moment.

“Well, now we just need to get the door open.”

The way Mando’s helmet whips back to the large blaster makes you groan. There were easier, less messy ways to go about things. You don’t attempt to talk the hunter out of it, he most likely wouldn’t listen to you anyways. It almost looks like he has fun shooting out the blast door until in collapses inwards.

You all take tentative steps inside the compound. One head appears around a far corner to the right. Mando’s quick draw has him downed before anyone blinks. “Anyone else?”

As if any survivors were going to offer themselves up to be shot.

“I’ll clear the west side,” you offer and Mando nods before heading off with the bounty droid in the opposite direction.

An unnerving silence settles over you as you stalk down the halls of the mysterious compound. The small army camped here had been prepared and well supplied. There are crates upon crates of food stuffs, weapons and ammunition. Some places are nearly packed floor to ceiling with it. What exactly was going on out here? How did they get all this out here in the middle of nowhere?

You worry your necklace pendant with one hand, an unconscious gesture you have yet to train yourself out of. Something was not right about this job, or at least more than normal. Over the years your own morals had morphed to accommodate your line of work. You worked for the guild and were often paid by unsavory individuals, but that was what you did to survive, and you refused to let that get to you. This however was picking at an old wound, long forgotten.

Another shot echoes through the compound and you find yourself racing back towards Mando and the droid, blaster held at the ready. Swinging around a corner you find Mando standing over a small floating pod, the bounty droid smoking out of its “head” on the floor. Maybe he didn’t want to split the bounty after all.

“Mando?” Your voice seems to cut through whatever trance the hunter was under, head snapping back towards you. “What happened?”

His shoulders drop, the tension seeming to fall away at your appearance. “He was going to kill the bounty.”

“I thought you said the client specified they wanted it alive if at all possible.”

Mando nods, “they did say that.”

That gnawing sense of dreads returns. Stepping up next to Mando you glance down into the pod-which appears to be functioning as some kind of traveling pram-and are greeted with wide dark eyes and pointy green ears.

Oh Maker no…

#the mandalorian #the mandolorian x reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #fic: burden of the survivors #din djarin #the mandolorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #x reader #fanficiton #chapter two #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian imagine #bounty hunters #crystalessences writes

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re-diesirae · 3 years

Text

Chapter 5

5. Leon

Leon walked in the darkness; his gun ready to shoot anything that could be a threat as he tried to find his way out of the tunnel. He had woken up a couple of hours ago and found himself trapped inside a tiny cell guarded by two men that, he guessed, were part of the terrorist group that had tried to kidnap Claire. The first thing he did after waking up was to look around the place, but to his dismay, there were no signs of the red-headed.

"Where did those bastards take her to?" he mumbled with irritation.

He was thinking of a way to break free when he caught the two men talking in whispers.

"What are we supposed to do with the guy?"

"That's what we are waiting to hear. The high-ups only ordered us to bring the Redfield chick. This guy just tagged along uninvited, but I bet they will find some use for him."

"Another lab rat," one of the men scoffed. "I pity him."

"He got it by himself. He shouldn't have interfered."

Leon heard the men laugh, but their laughter was interrupted by a soft slashing sound and a thud. After some seconds, the agent listened to the cell doors screech open, and a bright light pointed to his face. Leon raised his hand to block the blinding light and frowned at the familiar person standing in front of him.

"Ada?"

"So we meet again, Leon," the Asian spy said. Her lips curled into a playful smile, "here, from all places."

"What are you doing here?"

"Shouldn't I be asking the same? From how I see it, I've got more reasons to be here than you do."

"I doubt it," Leon said, walking out from the cell and facing the woman, "These bastards took my friend."

"Ah, yes. The Redfield girl. I had heard that you were close."

"Do you know where they hold Claire?"

"No, why would I care about her? She isn't my mission."

Leon raised his eyebrow, and Ada smirked.

"I think she found her way out. She's probably running somewhere. If she's alive, of course," she added, "but from what I've heard, I wouldn't bet against her chances."

No, it would be a stupid idea to bet against Claire. She was a skilled woman that knew how to handle herself in a crisis. Leon frowned. He never knew what to expect from Ada, but somehow he could not bring himself to distrust her.

"You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here, Ada?"

"Work," she answered, "nothing you should know about, pretty boy. I was about to leave when I heard that you'd gotten yourself caught. It's been a while, so I thought I'd pay you a visit. Here..."

Ada threw him some things, and Leon caught them in the air. His handguns and holsters, and also his phone.

"I believe you will need those."

Leon put his things back into place and looked at the spy.

"Thanks. Care to enlighten me of where we are?"

"Sorry, handsome, but I can tell you how to get out, though," Ada said, "if you follow this tunnel, you should reach outside. Don't worry about the guards. There aren't many."

"Took care of them for me?"

"No, guards are useless in this place," Ada smirked, "until next time, Leon."

Before Leon could say anything, the Asian woman was already gone. He would never understand her, but the time and place were not the right ones to ponder about the subject. He had to find Claire, make sure she was safe, and figure out where they were and how to get out.

Just like Ada had said, he did not meet any other guards on the way outside. However, once he was out of the tunnel, things became less friendly. Leon crossed paths with a bunch of people infected with Plagas, or at least, that's what the man thought. They lurked in the darkness of the forest, waiting for any unguarded passerby to jump over him, but luckily, he had managed to kill them without problems.

After a few minutes of trying, he managed to contact Hunnigan. The signal was not clear, but hopefully, it was enough for her to locate his position and send help. In the meantime, his primary objective was finding the youngest Redfield.

Tracking down Claire would not be easy. She could be anywhere, but if he knew her well enough, the first thing the woman would do would be arming herself. The best place to do that would be a place where people lived, so finding a settlement would help him find her.

Leon searched for a town or anything similar as he navigated the forest, but so far, he had not found anything. Then suddenly, he heard a loud bang, and he saw the flames of an explosion raise from a short distance from his position.

Smirking to himself, he could only guess if that was Claire, but he did not lose anything by checking it out, and so he had found himself walking in that direction.

For what he could see, it was indeed a town, or at least what remained of it. The fire was starting to spread, and the whole place was like a giant torch. Suddenly a soft crack of leaves made his senses snap. He turned around quickly, raising his gun only to find a rifle pointing directly at his face.

"Leon?" a familiar voice whispered.

The blonde could not say how relieved he was to hear that voice again. He lowered his gun and watched Claire do the same with her rifle. Thanks to the light coming from the burning town, he was able to see the woman. Besides looking exhausted and quite beaten up with her thorn clothes and scratches, she looked alright.

"Claire, thank god. I found you," he said, relieved.

"Likewise," she answered.

Claire let out a relieved sigh, and he saw her lose her balance and stumble down. Leon made a quick spin and caught her before the woman could hit the ground.

"Hey, easy. What's wrong?"Leon asked with worry.

"Sorry about that," she replied, "I think I might have a mild concussion. I already had one when I woke up, but I think the explosion just made it worse. I'll be fine. We need to take cover, Leon. There were some nasty monsters back there, and honestly, I don't know if I blew them up, but I don't want to be around to find out."

Leon nodded. He trusted Claire's judgment, and if she thought the monsters were no good news, he believed her. Claire was in no condition for a fight, so the wisest decision was to avoid conflict for the time being. They needed a place to hide and rest a little.

"Can you walk?"

"I can manage, I think," she replied.

Claire pushed herself up with Leon's help, but her legs gave up almost immediately. The adrenaline rush she'd used earlier was fading away, and the rebound effect in combination with the concussion was hitting her hard. Leon was surprised that the woman was still awake.

"You don't look like you can..."

"Jelly legs had never been an issue before."

Leon sighed. He put his gun back in his holster and knelt in front of her, offering her his back.

"Hop on," Leon said.

"What?"

"You can't walk, and it will be much faster this way."

Claire wanted to argue, but despite her broken pride, she knew Leon was right. She could barely stand, and that would only be a nuisance in battle. Without complaints, the woman climbed on Leon's back.

Leon immediately noted how light she was. Was she even eating at all?

"You can take my gun, and you're in charge of hostile control. How's your aim?"

"As good as it can be, I suppose."

"You'll be in charge of snipping then."

"I can do that."

Claire let out a weak chuckle. He was glad that the woman was still good enough to have some sense of humor.

Finding refuge was going to be a challenging task, especially when they didn't know the area, but Leon was not going to give so easily. Claire needed a safe place to recover, and nothing would stop him from finding one. It took him several minutes and some perfectly executed headshots from Claire to find a small abandoned cottage that was barely visible amidst the vegetation. It wasn't the most luxurious refuge; in fact, it was pretty wretched, but it would serve its purpose as a suitable hiding spot.

He made sure it was clear of unfriendly visitors before letting Claire down. The woman thanked him and settled in a corner with her back against the wall and rubbing her temper.

"Let me look at that," he said, approaching her.

Leon wasn't a medic, and his knowledge of wounds and injuries didn't reach beyond the standard first-aid procedures, but he could at least try.

"Be my guest," she replied, letting the blonde look at her.

She had a large lump on the back of her head, and there were traces of dried blood behind her ears and neck. He didn't see any open wounds, but that only made him worry that damage had been more internal. Concussions could be tricky.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Honest answer? Like shit," Claire snorted weakly, making Leon smirk. It'd been long since he had dealt with Claire's singular sense of humor.

"I am serious," he insisted. "You had a severe blow on your head, and I want to be sure there is no internal damage."

"That's going to be tough without a tomography unless you have some fancy instrument in your pockets, Mr. Super agent."

Leon snorted.

"I assume it isn't too bad if you can still talk like that."

"I am fine," Claire sighed. "I am a little dizzy, my vision is blurry, and I feel like I might throw up at any time. I also feel drained, and I can assure you that a hot bath would be nice, but you know, I'm not complaining. I am still alive.

"Well, I suppose you sound ok; I'll check again later, though."

"Be my guest, Leon," she sighed, "I am a little confused right now. Would you mind telling me what happened? How's that you ended up here, too?"

"Well, I was supposed to rescue you," he snorted, "but things didn't go quite as planned. Chris is probably pissed at me now."

"Don't mind about Chris. He's pissed most of the time for no reason. He will live through it as long as we make it out alive."

"Yeah. Something is jamming my signal. I can't contact Hunnigan or any of the other services, so I have no idea where we are."

"Germany. Bavaria, most likely."

"Huh?" Leon asked, surprised, "How do you know that?"

Claire dug inside her pocket and pulled out a piece of cloth. She unfolded it to show him its contents, and Leon saw a small branch.

"Sorbus pseudothuringiaca," she said. "It's endemic to Bavaria. I found a lot of it in the forest while I was looking for the town."

Claire always found ways to impress him.

"I didn't know you had a nag for botany."

"It isn't my forte," Claire said, folding the cloth again and putting it away, "but I am still a biologist."

"So we are in Germany," Leon sighed, "shit. That was a long trip."

"Yeah," Claire nodded, "now we are trapped in a forest infested by murderous monsters. How fun, huh?"

"Don't worry. I am sure we can handle that."

"You don't say," Claire nodded, massaging her neck, "I probably hold the record for waking up in the worst possible places."

Leon did not reply. He had heard of Claire's misadventures with B.O.W.s, mostly from reports. They rarely touched the subject in their occasional calls. He knew the woman had gotten involved in a couple of cases lately, one in a soviet island and another one on an island in South America. The reports on both were vague, but he remembered reading Claire's name among the survivors.

"You're still as tough as you've always been, huh?"

"I don't know," Claire sighed, "Maybe I'm getting old for this."

"Hey, if you're getting old, what about Chris and me?" he chuckled.

"Ah, right. I didn't mean it like that, sorry. My concussion is making me say nonsense."

"Don't worry about it. You need to rest. Maybe you should sleep a little. I can stand guard."

"Yeah..." Claire agreed, closing her eyes. "Sleeping sounds nice. Wake me up for a switch."

Leon watched Claire drift into sleep after some brief seconds. Her head tilted aside, and he caught her before she slid to the ground. The man placed her head on his lap carefully and watched her. She had to be exhausted, and he could not blame her. He didn't know how long she'd been running around, fighting hostiles, and escaping while dealing with the side effects of a concussion. She was admirable, and she deserved the rest.

He watched Claire's sleeping face, and he suddenly remembered their time in Racoon City. Eighteen years had passed since the incident; back then, both had been rookies in zombie fighting, and now they were among the veterans. Leon had become one of the DSO best agents, and Claire had not only survived multiple altercations with crazy scientists, but she had become the leader of a movement working to counter terrorist advances.

Leon smiled to himself. Claire had changed since the last time they met. She was no longer the girl he met in Raccoon. She was more mature and serene now. Then again, she wasn't the only one who had changed. All of them had, and all of them had chosen their way to fight against bioterrorism. Claire, however, had chosen a path that was very different from the one Chris and himself had taken. She was a fighter, but from another kind.

"What the hell does Neo-Umbrella want with you, Claire?" he sighed, brushing a hair strand away from her face.

NOTE: if you guys want to come and chat about the fic, or just about CLEON in general. Feel free to drop by the discord and say hi! http://discord.gg/wr48UmENbx

#resident evil #fanfic #my fanfic writing #Cleon #leon x claire #claire redfield #claire x leon #leon s kennedy

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somersetmummy · 3 years

Text

(A/N) This chapter takes place right at the beginning of the story, prior to TNA Chapter 1. Some characters property of Pixelberry.

Original characters: Katie Hide (MC), Jenny Blake

New characters: Lucinda Hansen

Rating/Content Warning: Mild adult language

Word count: 2005

Summary: MC Katie Hide is an English rose, living in New York. She’s down on her luck and desperately needs a job before her visa expires and she’s sent back to London. A chance conversation with a friend leads to an unlikely opportunity. Little did she know that one little interview would change the course of her life forever.

- Bonus social edits at the end -

Just like any other Thursday morning of recent weeks, Katie and Jenny were killing time together in their favourite coffee shop just down the street from their shared apartment. It had become Katie's haven and her go-to place when she wanted to lose herself for a few hours people watching, letting the stories of their lives unfold around her.

She'd always had a knack for paying attention to the details, noticing things which passed by most others. It was a skill she'd relied on heavily in her work, always giving her the edge, at least it had until the time it led to her downfall at Panacea Labs.

Katie had recently walked out of her job after piecing together a scheme under the radar to roll out a costly new drug for treating MS, despite there being multiple warning signs that it was ultimately ineffective but instead just masked the symptoms. Anyone else would've just glossed over the signs, not even noticing, but to Katie, the anomalies jumped off the page unmistakably. It was when she tried to escalate her concerns that she was shut down and her life in the lab made a misery by the VP, Declan Nash.

It hadn't taken long for her to realise that the company was more concerned about profits than actually helping people and she knew that the battle to fall in line and keep her job wasn't worth it. After calmly and quietly sending a company wide report on her findings, she gathered her things and walked out before she could be accosted by security. Little did she know that Nash had already been keeping tabs on her communications, in his eyes she was a trouble maker, and the report never saw the light of day.

Unfortunately for Katie, the current opportunities for young women in the biotech and pharmaceutical world just weren't what they should have been and she spent the next few weeks furiously searching for something else to avoid her work visa being revoked.

Having moved from London to attend the New York Institute of Technology and graduating with a Masters in Chemistry & Bio Engineering three years ago, she'd fallen in love with the city and the life she'd built. She didn't know exactly what the future held and couldn't put her finger on why, but she had a very strong feeling that she needed to stay in New York.

Today, Katie had planned to work through all the job adverts remotely relating to her experience and qualifications, with Jenny on hand to offer moral support. Tiring quickly of hitting one brick wall after another, they'd long forgotten the laptop and instead had spent the last 30 minutes idly chatting about Jenny’s upcoming gallery event when Lucinda arrived, phone to her ear, her body tense and voice sharp as she wrapped up a call with her boss.

"Of course I've got someone Angela, I wouldn't put my name in the mix if I didn't. My candidate is going to blow the others out of the water, I just know Mr Dalton will be impressed....no not just impressed, he'll be awestruck..."

While waiting for her to wrap up her call, Katie heads to the counter to order Lucinda a much needed coffee and returns to place it down in front of her just as she hangs up. She tosses her phone onto the table and slumps back in her chair, defeated.

Jenny stares her down waiting for an explanation which she and Katie both know Lucinda desperately wants to give but is holding off for dramatic effect.

After a long sip of coffee and a moment of holding her head in her hands she finally exhales.

"I am so SO SCREWED."

Katie and Jenny share a look before returning their attention to Lucinda.

"I've just promised my boss that I have the perfect candidate for some billionaire business man's nanny position....." She glares at them both as if they should understand why that's a problem. "I never touch these sorts of jobs, I only ever look for candidates in finance, nannying isn't worth my time."

Katie chooses her words carefully, knowing how Lucinda can bite back pretty quickly when she's stressed. Speaking softly, cautious not to poke the bear, she looks Lucinda in the eye and internally braces herself for whatever might come next.

"So what made this one so different?"

Fortunately Lucinda seems to finally be relaxing, she replies more quietly.

"Filling this position will put me on the map, nobody in the firm has been able to secure someone for this guy, they only seem to last a few weeks before they quit so the sign on bonus never kicks in. If I could find the perfect person I wouldn't only get a great bonus, I'd be next in line for promotion to Senior Head-hunter."

Her demanding demeanour melts away and she's left looking almost vulnerable. Something Katie knows Lucinda doesn't find at all comfortable.

"Anyway, I'll figure it out, I always do."

She gives Katie and Jenny a soft smile, allowing herself to momentarily forget about her woes so she can refocus the attention back to them.

"So what were you guys talking about before I came in?"

As Katie opens her mouth to speak Jenny cuts in on her behalf.

"Oh Katie's just been trying to work out how to get a job before her visa renewal date comes up in a couple of weeks."

Katie lets out a sigh of her own, suddenly remembering how dire her employment prospects are and feeling equally as defeated as Lucinda.

"I can't believe I've worked so hard for my degree, I found the perfect job in the perfect city but now it's all gone down the drain and I'm going to have to go back home and never see you all again."

Jenny wraps her arm around Katie's shoulders, pulling her close. "Oh come on, like you'd be able to shake us off. Even if you are in another country!"

As suddenly as Lucinda dramatically entered the coffee shop she slams her hand onto the table making the others jump.

"THAT'S IT!" She cries, her idea almost exploding out of her. "This is just too perfect...."

Katie and Jenny share a confused look before turning back to Lucinda who is practically foaming at the mouth, clearly onto something, though they're not quite sure what.

"You need a job, I need a candidate." She says in her signature matter of fact style.

Katie still has no idea where Lucinda's going with this.

"It's win win. I'll put you forward for the nanny position, you'll get a great job which means you get to stay in New York, I'll get my bonus. Not to mention I'll look like a damn superhero at work!"

The cogs start to turn in Katie's brain as she begins to digest what Lucinda is proposing.

"But I'm not a nanny....and what about my visa, it's only valid for work in relation to my degree."

Lucinda waves her hand at her, dismissing her concerns. "No problem there then. This guy's family owns one of the biggest Biotech companies in the country, surely that's related to your degree? He's so desperate for a successful match I'll make sure the visa thing is part of the contract."

She cuts back in quickly just as Katie opens her mouth to object.

"And as for you not being a nanny, what about all those times in the lab when you had to pull rank and sort out the shit that went down between your useless colleagues? You've done more nannying of adults in the last two years than most actual nanny's do in their whole career with children."

Jenny suddenly chimes in "OH MY GOD, this is genius!"

Defeated, Katie turns to look at Jenny in disbelief. She may have had a chance saying no to just Lucinda but with Jenny on board with this idea as well she may as well give up now.

"This will solve both your problems, I mean come on, who wouldn't want to work for this guy..."

Jenny turns her phone to Katie, clearly having been searching while she and Lucinda were talking. On the screen Katie sees the most devastatingly handsome man she's ever come across. He's nothing like the guys she'd known before, this person, was a real man and the sight of him caused her stomach to flip.

While undeniably handsome, it's not just the physical attraction that she's drawn to. Her eyes move to the company bio underneath his headshot and in true Katie style, she scans all of the accolades and achievements the company has to boast about. Her mind races at the possibilities. There's no mistaking that working for this man could open the door to so many opportunities and experiences in the future.

With a sigh she resigns herself to the fact that Lucinda might actually be on to something, this could be the break Katie had been waiting for and would certainly solve her imminent visa problems if she could get it taken care of as part of the contract negotiations.

With a silent nod and slight shrug of the shoulders, she begrudgingly agrees, much to the delight of her friends who squeal at each other in delight. Lucinda immediately pushes her shoulders back, standing to attention, furiously beginning to type on her phone.

"You TA'd for your old professor right?"

"Yes, I did a year as their assistant after graduating. Mainly doing research and going to conferences with her."

Lucinda's eyes never leave her phone as she works her magic, spinning Katie's words into an impressive resume. After a moment she raises her eyebrows and flits her eyes over to Katie, a small gesture which Katie realises is an invitation to elaborate.

"Oh, yeah so that's actually how I got into Panacea Labs, I met a rep at one of those conferences."

Jenny rolls her eyes at the mention of Katie's old company, now affectionately known by them both as Pariah Labs. Despite what she felt about Katie's previous employer, she was immensely proud of Katie's achievements and wanted to make sure they were included.

"Weren't you the youngest lab boss thingy they'd ever had?"

"Senior lab technician." Katie corrects, knowing full well that Jenny hasn't got a clue about the finer details of her work. "Well, yeah eventually, after two years of working my butt off. But I hardly think they'd rave about that in any reference they give me. If they even give one to begin with..."

Lucinda waves a dismissive hand at her.

"With this resume, you won't need any reference from those bastards. Trust me."

Katie had no idea what Lucinda had written or how she'd managed to spin her experience to be more favourable for a nanny position but it must've worked because half an hour later Lucinda slammed her hand down on the table once again, causing everyone around them to jump out of their skin.

"YES! It worked...he wants to see you, you've got an interview tomorrow at the Dalton Enterprises headquarters".

She turns her phone to Jenny to show off the email and they fall into an animated conversation, no doubt planning how they're all going to celebrate once Katie inevitably gets offered the job. As they fall into a blur in the background, Katie looks back over the picture of Sam Dalton on Jenny's phone, not quite sure how she can be so hypnotised by someone through a photograph.

There's something about him which feels familiar, something drawing her in. It's almost as if they're viewing each other through a looking glass and she wonders whether in this exact moment he is feeling the same magnetic pull towards her, a stranger whom he hasn't even met yet. Tearing her eyes away from the phone, Katie's tries to steady the stream of unanswered questions flooding her mind and focus on how she's going to win this man over.

"Here goes nothing."

TAG List: @shewillreadyou @chemist-ana @txemrn @silma-words @thefrenchiemama @secretaryunpaid @sfb123

- Bonus - pre-interview pep talk with the girls -

#the nanny affair #fanfic #tna #choices

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