#they sent the guy who was trained to kill every motherfucker who got in his way without hesitation or remorse
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Sort of as a follow-up thought to this post...
I really can't wait for that Operation Javier project -- whether it's a full game or a DLC or whatever it is -- to come out and give us a closer look at what Leon's life was like between RE2make and RE4make. Because I think something that really gets missed in the fandom (likely due to the ridiculous misinformation listed on the wiki that then gets passed around the fandom like fact) is that Leon wasn't trained by the government to kill bioweapons. Leon was trained by the government to kill people. Ashley just got ridiculously lucky that the agent who was sent to retrieve her also happened to have experience fighting against bioweapons due to having been in Raccoon City.
It's subtle, but there's evidence for this in RE4make itself. It's actually baked into Leon's character arc.
At the Hunter's Lodge, Leon's trained response to encountering a person on the ground during a mission is to reach for his gun. He even starts taking it out of the holster. It isn't until the hunter appears to not be a threat that he puts it back down and tries to talk to him.
But when the hunter does become a threat, Leon doesn't hesitate in killing him. And not only does he not hesitate to kill him, but he even pulls out his gun and doublechecks that the man is really dead.
This happens before anyone knows that there's bioweapons at play. As far as Leon knows, in this moment, he just killed an old man in his home. Just an old man.
His subsequent conversation with Hunnigan is structured as such that the US's intel on the ground is only that Ashley is being held in this village. The statement "Something's happened to the people here" is tacked on as an afterthought, as something unexpected. Leon suspects that there's biological warfare involved after seeing the hunter come after him chittering and with a broken neck, but he doesn't get the chance to voice that to Hunnigan and ask for more information before he's interrupted and has to cut the conversation short.
Later, this happens:
Prior to Mendez mutating into his boss form, Leon didn't actually suspect that he was infected with las plagas. He was opening fire on and trying to kill a man who he thought, much like the hunter, was just a man. Because that's his job.
The line "I'll do my job" is particularly interesting, because most people think of Leon's "job" in this game as rescuing Ashley -- but that's not how Leon himself seems to see it. His mission objective is to rescue Ashley, but his job -- at least, in the context in which he says it -- is to kill people.
We also know that Leon was part of Operation Javier. This is never stated explicitly, but Krauser tells us this without telling us:
Krauser had a revelation in the jungle, and Leon was there with him in that jungle two years ago.
So, what was Operation Javier?
Well, we don't really know yet. I'm sure that it did involve bioweapons somehow -- Capcom wouldn't be making it into a separate title release if it didn't -- but that wasn't the original conceit for it set out by the US government in-universe.
This was the official mission statement for Operation Javier:
Eradicating drug cartels.
Which means going after people. Not BOWs.
And Leon being sent on this mission alongside Krauser and his unit didn't seem to raise any eyebrows or key anyone into the possibility that there could be BOWs involved. They all seemed to have been taken by surprise -- especially Krauser, which shouldn't have happened as Leon's trainer if Krauser knew that the purpose of Leon's training was BOW combat.
This also isn't the first mission that Leon was sent on alongside Krauser and his men. He says as much in the intro with the plural use of "missions" attached to his training.
So... Leon is a killer. He was specifically trained to kill people for the US government. He just happens to also be adept at fighting against BOWs thanks to his experience in Raccoon City. And what's chilling is that, during the intro, he also expresses a strange sort of gratitude for his combat training because it "kept [his] mind off things."
That's how broken Leon is going into RE4make. The kind-hearted guy who just wanted to protect people in RE2make spends the next six years following Raccoon City being turned into a hitman and murdering people for the federal government, and his response to that is "thank you."
That's why Ashley's contribution to his character arc is so important. At a certain point during RE4make, he stops fighting against the villagers and starts fighting for Ashley. She shakes him out of that killer's mindset and reminds him that, once upon a time, he was a boy named Leon Kennedy who wanted to save the world.
And the culmination of this is Leon's realization that both of these parts of him can coexist. He can use his intense combat training and killer instinct to protect people -- just like he protected Ashley. But he's not so naive anymore (like he was in RE2make) to think that he can protect and save everyone. And he was forced to accept, through his training and through killing Krauser, that sometimes some people need to be sacrificed in order for other people to be saved.
#resident evil 4#leon kennedy#meta analysis#this is also more evidence that leon was never in STRATCOM#why the fuck would they send the anti-umbrella STRATCOM guy to save the president's daughter if no one knew BOWs were involved#hint: they didn't#they sent the guy who was trained to kill every motherfucker who got in his way without hesitation or remorse#THAT'S who they sent#though just because that's how leon was *trained* doesn't mean that that's who he *is*#and leon remembers who he actually is over the course of the game because of his bond with ashley
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if you’re still doing short blurbs from that list I’d love to see 14! I love your writing :)
Allison is alive in this one, I really like writing with her in it!
I promise I'm trying to get to everyone's requests! Hope you enjoy!<3
Life had been….interesting since I found out my best friends were...otherworldly. At first I had been in complete shock and I thought my friends were messing with me, that was until Scott showed me his fangs and glowing eyes. Then, I had a slight panic attack until Stiles and Lydia calmed me down. I avoided them for a few days after they explained it all to me and when I finally approached them, my request baffled them.
“I need Allison to teach me how to fight.” I said confidently to the group.
At first they all looked at me, “You want-wait, -WHAT? You don’t talk to us for days and that’s the first thing you say to us?” Scott asked me, incredulous.
“Well yeah. I mean, if I’m gonna have a bunch of werewolf, banshee, hunter, and previously possessed by a demon friends then I need to know how to defend myself. I’m not going to be that defenseless human, making it harder for all of you to fight.”
“Y/n...you’re absolutely crazy, and I love it.” Allison said to me.
It took my other friends some convincing, but Allison was completely on board with showing me what she knew. Her dad even helped us a lot with training. I had become really close to them and honestly, they we’re the closest thing I had to a family, not considering the pack of course. I even started staying with them, to make training easier, or so that’s what I said. Although, I think they knew better and they welcomed me with open arms. It took 5 months before I was confident in my abilities, but Allison and Chris were convinced I was a natural at it from the beginning.
The only person who was still adamantly against the idea of it, was Stiles. He was the closest person to me in the group, he was also the one I had known the longest. Scott came in close second, seeing as him and Stiles were never really far apart. Somewhere in the 7 years I had known Stiles, I fell madly in love with him and I was pretty sure he felt the same way. We were always hanging out outside of the group, we always had to be touching each other, and we knew all of each other's secrets. But, with everything going on, we never admitted it or took it to the next level. Even if I wanted to run up and kiss him every single time I saw him.
“Y/n, I’m really not okay with this. I don’t want you out there fighting this shit with us. Scott and Isaac and them- they can all heal themselves. If you get hurt, we could lose you… I could lose you. And that just can’t happen.” Stiles confided in me, shortly after my training had started.
“I get it Stiles, trust me I do. But, you’re out there all the time in the middle of it. I could lose YOU just as easily, I can’t sit around and wait to see if my best friends come home alive. I want to HELP you guys, I want to help you…”
“I just, I can’t be okay with this, I’m sorry.”
Stiles had walked away from me that day and ignored me for a solid week. But that’s all it lasted. He couldn’t be any more mad at me than I could be at him. But after that week, there were some subtle differences in our relationship. If we were hanging out as a group, he would always sit next to me, if we were walking together he would always pull me as close as possible to him, and he would come to every single lesson I had with the Argents. Although these were not big, huge changes, it was something everyone had noticed.
I had used some of my training on messing around with Liam and Malia. They were always helpful, letting me use the things I was learning on them to practice with someone with long scary fangs. I hadn’t gotten a chance to use it in real life though, that was until a pack of omegas came into town.
Apparently, they felt like they had to ‘prove’ themselves to Scott, since he was a True Alpha. I’m not sure how fighting his pack was going to show that, but they came in ready for a brawl.
At first, I was confident in myself, almost getting attacked a few times just for Allison to save me. However, after a few ‘you can do it’ looks from her, I was totally kicking ass.
Liam threw one over my head,---CRASH! Right into the wall, sending wood splinters everywhere.
I knocked on over the head with a chair, she fell to the floor.
Allison sent an arrow right through one’s arm, Scott coming in for the tackle soon after.
I was keeping an eye on Stiles and Lydia, who were in one corner, Lydia ready to scream if she needed to.
One tried to jump on Scott’s back and I sliced him with the ring dagger Allison and Chris got me after one month of training with them. In the heat of the moment, I caught Stiles, with his bat, standing in front of Lydia, one of the bigger omegas coming towards them. In two seconds flat I was bounding across the room, before the omega could get to them. I jumped on his back. I took my dagger and sliced across his stomach, earning a very angry howl that shook the whole room. With his glowing eyes turned toward me, I knew I was in trouble. I had just severely pissed him off. Before I knew it he was coming to me faster than I could react. I watched him leap toward me, seeing my life flash before my eyes. I held my dagger up, hoping I could at least get a few more slices before he killed me. Then, suddenly he was flying across the room, Scott and Malia having leaped into him. Before I could get a chance to breathe, another one was coming towards me, but I was prepared this time.
10 more minutes of fighting and the omegas ran away, tails between their legs. We were all catching our breaths, surprised we had gotten through that relatively unscathed. Scott and Malia were the closest to me.
“Thanks for the help back there guys, I thought I was a goner.” I laughed, relieved to be alive.
“We work as a team, that’s how we get through fights like this.” Scott said, very Alpha like.
When I turned, Stiles was behind me, “Thank you y/n, you really saved my ass back there, I don’t think my bat was gonna help this time. I’m really sorry I was so against you learning how to fight, you really are a natural.” The look in his eyes was something I hadn’t seen before.
“Well I wasn’t gonna let that motherfucker kill my best friend, that's for sure.” I tried to lighten the mood, not wanting Stiles to feel bad.
In the next moment, his lips were on mine. I didn’t hesitate to kiss back. His lips were soft and felt like they were made for mine. I never wanted this to stop, this was all I had wanted for so long. My eyes were closed, but I could feel the pack’s eyes on us making me pull from him.
“You’re more than my best friend, and I’m sorry I was too much of a coward to do anything about it before. But I love you y/f/n y/l/n.”
“I love you too, Stiles Stilinski. Now kiss me again, we have a lot of time to make up for.” And our lips crashed together again, not caring this time about the stares. Or the round of applause and whistles our friends were throwing our way.
#stiles stilinksi imagine#stiles stilinski x reader#stiles x reader#stiles x y/n#stiles fanfiction#stiles stilinski#teen wolf imagine#teen wolf x reader#teen wolf fanfic#teen wolf
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On the Fly
Pairing: Homelander / Reader
Rating: T (Language, lots of bad language)
Description: You are a loud mouth New York cop that doesn't give two shits what anybody else thinks. Homelander is the hero of America, the stars and stripes of justice. The fans ship you two together so bad, and it was all your fault. If only you had kept your mouth shut.
It was such a cheesy, stupid idea that the Vought marketing team had developed. One single interaction between Homelander and some tiny, pathetic little officer goes viral, and all the fans want more of it, ALL of the fans. You were just doing your duty that day, Homelander and Queen Maeve intervened when your partner and you were about to lead a huge drug raid that had been planned for months. You, always having been the more forward one, approached Homelander, when she just so happened to be addressing the news about the incident.
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" His eyebrows rose up at the sight of you, a fleshbag at most, badgering him. Your hair was loose, the NYPD vest fastened tightly on your torso, toned biceps flashing, gun at your side, he was absolutely confused at first. No officer just straight up approached him unless they wanted an autograph, or a handshake. You wanted neither. And you were so angry, your New Yorker accent was shooting out of from your lips without restraint.
"Excuse me?" He then snorted, reminding himself that you were both being watched.
"This was my raid, not yours, you don't just come fucking barging in without notice. We had planned this for months."
"And I understand that, um..." He forced a smile, although he really wanted to just break your neck. No one had ever had the gull to speak to him that way. "You are the real heroes."
"Oh, like that fucking shit is going to cut it, huh?" You pushed Homelander, although it was almost like pushing a wall, you did it anyways. Everyone around you both made a resounding gasp, even some of the emergency services crew members in the backdrop paused what they were doing. "Listen buster, I trained for this shit show, and what did you do? You were born with the power to fucking fly and shoot lasers from your eyes? Big fucking whoop!" Homelander's jaw went taut and he sighed agitation.
"And don't you know who you are talking to? I saved your lives and made your jobs easier." You crossed your arms, lip pouting out.
"I didn't become a cop so that you could make it easy for me. I knew what I signed up for. Next time, mind your own shit! I will keep you on stand by."
"Next time, I will still do what heroes always do." He stated firmly between clenched teeth, then bowed down closer to you, perhaps in an attempt to intimidate you, but to his surprise you didn't even flinch. You came straight forward, faces an inch from eachother as you kept a hard eye contact.
"You fucking come into my establishment again, I will have your ass." You growled, fists at her sides.
"And we'll see how well that goes for you, officer." He snarled right back, then you were storming off. Even though you truly wanted to be the last one standing, you had work to do.
The next day you did the usual routine. You went on your six miler, hit the weights at the gym, and then got ready for the day. You didn't think anything of it, got your coffee, grabbed a whole of the daily paper and walked to work in uniform. As soon as you showed up to the department, it was a shit storm. People were flying back and forth, colleagues of yours sent you stares without replying to your greetings, the whole place was in disarray. Then you saw him, and your blood only boiled more, he was standing with the commissioner and several unfamiliar faces. When the commissioner saw you, his entire expression lit up in that face you knew all too well, the 'I am trying to hide how pissed I am so I will smile' face.
"Officer (L/N)! Come over here!" He exclaimed with feigned excitement, he scurried the lit of you into his office, where you took your usual seat. You had been here before, you weren't usually very good at following the rules as it was. This blonde woman took the seat beside you, two others standing behind her with clipboards. She had this eerie grin on her face, not much different from Homelander's.
"Officer (L/N), its a pleasure to meet you." She held her hand out, you didn't accept it and tilted your head towards your boss.
"What the fuck is going on?" As the woman retrieved her hand, the red head behind her replied in an all too chirpy tone.
"The fans love you! They want you in a team up with Homelander." She explained, you rolled your eyes and then stood with a sigh.
"This is a joke. I am not doing it."
"You have no choice, (Y/N)." Your boss said and he said it all too sternly, surely he would have your badge if you disagreed.
"I don't believe this, why me? Huh? Because I said what everybody else was thinking?!"
"Here are some of what the fans have been saying." The other one handed her clipboard to you, the blonde still staring in silence with that polite and cringy smile. You squinted as you read over the list of comments, particular on the viral video between Homelander and you.
"Aww, they are like an old married couple?!" You read aloud, "What the fuck?!" Then down to the next one. "Why don't they just get a room?! Team up?! What the fuckety fuck?!"
"It appears the two of you have had some chemistry, I suppose." The blonde finally spoke coolly, you then raised your glare to Homelander.
"Do you think we have chemistry? Huh? 'Cause I think you are just a fucked up, flying monkey asshole."
"(Y/N)!" Your boss chastised, you crossed your arms with a sigh.
"Whatever, lets just get this over with. People will get sick of it eventually."
"Perfect, we will have the cameras on you, as soon as within the hour." Your jaw dropped, and you wanted to speak in protest, but the words wouldn't leave your lips. As everyone left the room, Homelander was the lsst one to tap your mouth shut, he grinned.
"You're a celebrity now, (Y/N). Get used to it." You thought you could, but it was so much work trying to ride this out. The cameras followed you for weeks, allowing Vought to post short videos of your encounters with Homelander. Homelander replaced your partner for that period of time, which only drifted your friend and you further apart. The short videos became so popular, soon the two of you had your own TV show every night at nine. It was originally called Justice.
"Do you think we could film your workout routine, (Y/N)?" Vought was insufferable in their addiction for the show, it had gotten a lot of publicity and was a number one hit for the industry. Homelander accompanied you on bank robberies, house calls, domestic disturbances, etc. Meanwhile, the both of you disagreed over everything and the banter only made the two of you more popular. Vought started making t-shirts and memorabilia that selled like crazy. The two of you posing, your playful remarks, and almost all of the words that left your mouth:
Flying Monkey Motherfucker!
It was like a fucking hillbilly porno!
Go fuck yourself with some bullets!
Listen, I have bigger balls than this two bit motherfucking laser machine!
That was when the true name of the show was born:
"Yeah, like you think I am going to be like you, fucking on the fly-"
"That's it!" One of the producers shouted from behind the cameras. Homelander and you glared at him, annoyed that anybody would interrupt the very imoortant argument you both were having. From that point on the show was named 'On the Fly', it ran like crazy, and despite its popularity, Homelander and you still hated each other's guts. The fans expected the picture portrait chemistry off screen, and neither of you really understood what they meant. Until Season 8, that is...
"There's about twenty of them." Homelander stated, as he eyed the side of the warehouse.
"Perfect! Half and half." You cocked your guns and the both of you started towards the double doors, leading in through the back. There was a body cam on you, one on Homelander, and a cameraman, one of several as some of them had been 'accidentally' into the mix of shoots and dangerous fights.
"Last time you said that, you killed one of my guys." Homelander stated, pointing a finger at you in warning not to make the same mistake again.
"We'll just separate everyone as we go, okay?" You stood back as Homelander kicked the chained doors open, the shots started firing almost instantly. One thing Homelander could respect you for was that you kept up very nicely, for a meatbag that was. You were fit and vigilant and would have made a fantastic hero, if you had powers.
Homelander grabbed you by the back collar of your vest, tossing you gently up to a catwalk that crossed the warehouse, where you easily shot at four of the criminals. Homelander skillfully did his work, lasers flying around, punching threw chest and throwing people out of the roof. You both finally came to the last guy, he was unarmed. You were out of ammo and mags. You holstered your gun and grinned at him.
"Is this one mine?"
"Sure is," Homelander cringed a bit, the guy was bit and hefty, twice your size. "Unless you want me to handle this one." The man's eyes widened and he shook his head, then raised his fists toward her.
"Nope, I got it." As always, you struggled fighting against the bigger ones, but you always caught up. Homelander stood off to the side, herring you on even as you got your face punched or as you were thrown against a storage container.
"Keep going, (Y/N)! Just shout if you need help." He would mock, arms crossed, that one camera man looking in in horror. Finally you grabbed the back of the guy's head and drilled your knee into his face, he dropped to the side unconscious. Breathing heavily, bloodied face, fists clenched and sweating pooling off your skin, you kicked him one last time. You nearly fell back if Homelander hadn't been there to prop a firm hand against the middle of your back. "I knew it." He grinned, wiping a hand across the bruise on your cheek. "I could have done better, but..."
"Oh, fuck you, you pile of heroic shit." The both of you started to walk side by side back out of the front, where several cameras waited and the camera crew stood to finish the episode. You both turned to eachother and stared, you placed your hands on your hips.
"Not too bad, supershitter." You said with a huff after finally catching your breath.
"You too, officer, you too." But it felt dull, something was off, the air was thick and the wind was a bit too breezy for your taste.
"Cut!" The director came forward from the crowd, smiling with that off smile, he could feel it too. "We are going to run this ending again. Why don't you guys kiss, or something?"
"What?!" You narrowed your eyes on the director, that was where you drew the line.
"No. Not happening." Homelander chuckled, like it was some joke. You didn't know why his denial offended you right then and there, but it did.
"What am I not pretty enough for you? Fucking jerk." The director slowly started to back peddle, gesturing to the cameras to start rolling again. Homelander held his palms up in surrender and shrugged.
"You have blood and shit all over your face, why would I want to kiss you?"
"Oh, so if I didn't have shit on my face, you would do it?" You saw Homelander hesitate for a moment before returning to that same confident swagger of his.
"No, I never said that."
"Well, then what the fuck is the problem?! Why wouldn't you kiss me? Hmm?"
"Why does it bother you so much?" He jested, hands now on his hips and he stepped closer. He had to tilt his gaze down to consider your tinier self.
"Why does it bother you that it bothers me?" His eyebrows furrowed to contest.
"It doesn't bother me." He spat, you crossed your arms and smirked evilly, only really wanting the last word. It didn't matter if he kissed you, or not, right?
"I think it does. I think you are lying." You teased.
"What makes you say that?"
"Because if it didn't bother you, you would just kiss me and get this shit over with."
"Fine." You didn't expect him to just go with it, your eyes widened as you stared up at him, hands dropping to your sides. Then you shook your head, pulling yourself back into thst glare.
"Fine, then." And you both leaned into each other, tight lips pressing together, and you hated yourself but you enjoyed the contact more than you'd like to admit. Everything was quiet, so quiet a pin could drop on the asphalt and everyone would be able to hear it. You gasped when Homelander's hands snaked around your waist, and your own hands found his biceps for support as you were slightly lifted off the ground. The gasp opened your lips and Homelander's tongue slid through and the kiss deepened as your mouths opened up and fought for dominance. Homelander held you tighter as he then ascended thousands of feet up into the sky. You gripped him harder and cried out, cheek pressing to his, now too high up for the cameras to find you.
"Hom-John, what the fuck, man?! Put us down!"
"Shut up." And he kissed you again, then soaring you both through the sky towards a destination unknown. You were so lost in the kiss at that point, that it didn't matter where you were going. This was the last thing you expected to happen, ever, in a million years. But you weren't going to complain...
Meanwhile, the camera crew and director stood down below in shocked silence. The silence was soon broken by the director's words:
"That was absolutely fucking perfect! Cut scene!"
Master List
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Title: Black Dog - part three
Word count: ±2700 words
Episode summary: When Sam gets an anonymous phone call with information about his father, Dean receives a text message with coordinates to different location. The brothers clash and split up, one following orders, the other trusting his instincts. Meanwhile, in the wilderness of Cascade Range, Washington State, Zoë loses grip on a personal case and is forced to confront her demons. Without back up, this might very well turn out to be her final hunt.
Part three summary: Two leads point into different directions. Which one are the Winchester brothers going to follow?
Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures. Supernatural creatures/entities, mentions of demon possession. Swearing, smoking, weaponry. Descriptions of torture and murder. Illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Descriptions of suicidal thoughts and tendencies, depression, panic attacks, hallucinations.
Author’s note: Beta’d by @winchest09 & @deanwanddamons. Thanks, girls!
Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist
S1E03 “Black Dog” Masterlist
Dean gives his Chevrolet Impala a final clean up and looks at the end result.
Ronny nods satisfied, too. “Good as new.”
They mechanics carefully beat out the small dent in the lid and restored the paint with a polisher. The lock of the trunk took some time to replace, but now it closes perfectly.
“Thanks, man,” Dean says gratefully, offering him some money for the work.
“Any time. Put that away. I owe you Winchesters more than that,” Ronny reminds him. “Sure you guys don’t want a beer?”
Dean hesitates, but then shakes his head. “I’d love to catch up, but we should get going. The world isn’t rid of all evil motherfuckers just yet.”
Ronny chuckles at that. “Fair enough. Good to see you again, though.”
“You too. Take care, Ron,” the oldest Winchester brother returns.
The ex-hunter retreats back into his garage, and Dean glances at the trunk for the second time and smiles satisfied. He’s glad he got it fixed. The clunking sound every time they hit a pothole was driving him crazy, and with enough arsenal for a small military operation inside, he wasn’t really keen on leaving it unlocked either.
As he takes a look around the abandoned street, he realizes he’s missing the tall individual that usually occupies the passenger’s seat. Where the hell did Sam go? Instinctively, Dean scans the area, uneasiness evident in his stomach, a sensation which arises ever since he was a kid, whenever he loses sight of his little brother. Then he spots him a bit further down the road. He’s on the phone with someone, and for a second he wonders if it’s Zoë he’s having a conversation with.
Waiting for his brother to return, he leans against his car, shoving his hands in his pockets. The sun feels nice and warm on his back as it burns away the coolness of the night. Now that he has nothing to do for a moment, his thoughts sneak off. He doesn’t like it one bit, but he can’t help but think of the huntress they crossed paths with a little under a week ago. He may pretend that he doesn’t give a shit, but he has to admit that she has been on his mind more than a couple of times. Not that he likes her, fuck no, but Sullivan left an impression that has him wondering. She has been through more in the twenty-five years that she has walked this earth than most endure in an entire lifetime. Maybe that is why he deep down cares; he can relate to her.
Dean exhales, not dwelling too long on the reason behind the intrigue. Instead, he wonders if Sam’s presumption is actually true. The fierce Zoë Sullivan being in deep shit; he can barely picture it. She always seems in control, even when things don't go as planned. She caught him off guard. He, Dean Winchester, can you fuckin’ believe that? The older Winchester sibling rolls his harmed shoulder, testing its mobility. She shot me, for fuck’s sake.
Even though he has been in the field longer than she has, Zoë seems to expertly know her way around the world of monsters that is their reality. She’s a bright girl, skilled, fast, fearless. She has every aspect of a perfect hunter. But after those last words back in Paragould, he was left with the impression that the battle she was going towards, is one she didn’t expect to win. It truly felt like a final goodbye. A disturbing question pops up in his head; did he make a mistake not going after her? The two guys they saved from a werewolf in Waco probably don’t think so.
Dean stares ahead, pulling at his bottom lip with his teeth while contemplating his choices. Maybe they should go after her anyway, see if they can pick up her trail. North is indeed a big place, but then again, a hot chick on a Harley Davidson would stand out. It’s a long shot, but if they play this right, they may be able to find her.
The matter escapes his mind when he feels his phone vibrating, the buzzing device startling him slightly. Somewhat annoyed by his own reflex, the hunter takes his Motorola and notices the small icon of an envelope in the right upper corner; he has received a text message. It’s probably Erin, his hook up back in Waco, who had to wake up alone this morning. She must be wondering where the man she met in a bar three days prior has gone. But when Dean opens his inbox, his eyes widen in shock.
At the top of the list of incoming messages, it says ‘Dad’.
Dean’s heart has picked up speed, now pounding twice as fast than it was seconds ago. Last time he checked, his father’s phone was inactive, and now there’s a message coming in from that number? Different scenarios flash through his mind, not sure if he should prepare for good or bad news. With shaky fingers, he opens the text.
Job: 48°13’11.00”N 121°41’4045”W
Dean exhales, still staring at his cell. He can’t fucking believe it. John disappeared from the face of the earth, nowhere to be found, and after all this time he sent a few numbers and letters. The older Winchester brother huffs out a laugh. It doesn’t matter, though. Relief frees Dean from the crippling worry that he has tried to stuff down for over a month now, but kept him up at night nonetheless. This text confirms what he’s been hoping for; Dad is alive.
Thrilled, Dean turns around and glances down the street, noticing Sam, who hastens towards the car. He can’t wait to share the news, knowing they have both been so desperate for a breakthrough.
“We’ve gotta go,” they both say at the same time.
“Me first,” Dean demands, childish.
“What are you? Seven?” Sam huffs, raising an eyebrow to match with the sass. Despite his accusation, he counters in the same manner. “What I’ve just heard is bigger.”
“Bigger than this?” Dean brags while flashing a grin, victoriously handing his brother the Motorola.
Curiosity wins and Sam takes it, attentively reading the message. His eyes narrow, but then his jaw falls open when he realizes who the sender is. John’s youngest son isn’t impressed, though. In fact, what shows on the display infuriates him.
“That’s it?” he scoffs, agitated, giving the phone back to his brother. “After a month of silence, that’s what he gives us?”
“Sam, don’t you realize what this means? He’s okay!” Dean brings to mind. “Don’t bitch about this.”
“Just because he’s able to send us a text message, doesn’t mean that he’s okay. We’re not even sure it’s him!” Sam returns bitterly.
“Oh, come on. This is so Dad. One word and coordinates, that’s straight up Marine Corps right there. It’s more convincing than his fuckin’ signature,” the older brother argues.
“And what the hell are we supposed to do with this? Trust him blindly and do a job he can’t find the time for because he’s hunting whatever the thing is that killed Mom?” Sam assumes, his arms flying up before he lets them come down to his sides again.
“Exactly,” Dean states, matter of factly. “Don’t you see, Sam? This is what I’ve been telling you. He doesn’t want to be found, he wants us to hunt.”
Dean opens the passenger side door and rummages in the dashboard locker. When he straightens his back, he pulls out a brown notebook; it’s John’s journal.
“This book. This is dad’s single most valuable possession. Everything he knows about every evil thing is in here. He could’ve taken it with him, but he didn’t. He’s passed it on to us.” Dean looks deep into his brother's eyes while he points at the leather bound book that is the representation of the Bible to the Winchesters. “Dad’s journal, the text... Dad is telling us he wants us to do what we were trained for.”
“You know what I want? I want to find him,” Sam returns determined, handing back the phone.
“And how the fuck were you planning to achieve that, huh?” Dean returns.
“I don’t need a plan, I already know where he is,” the younger brother states.
Puzzled, Dean stares at him, waiting for an explanation. There has been zero contact between their old man and Sam for years, and now all of a sudden he has figured out where John is at?
“How?” he questions, suspicion rising.
“I just received a call. He’s in Tennessee. In Nashville to be precise,” his sibling states.
Dean frowns. “A call? From who?”
The shrug of Sam’s shoulders is nonchalant. “I think she might be a hunter or something.”
“She? Does this mystery lady have a name?” Dean questions further, trying to get details while frustration bubbles in his chest, triggered by his brother’s short answers.
“She didn’t give it, but it doesn’t matter. We’re going to Tennessee,” Sam decides.
Dean laughs out loud, dropping the journal on the passenger’s seat before he turns away. Then he returns to glare at Sam as if he just made a joke.
“You wanna go to fucking Nashville based on an anonymous call? Did the sun fry your brain or something? This could be a fucking trap, Sam!” Dean shouts, indignant.
But his sibling is determined. “I don’t care. If he’s there, I’m going.”
Dean steps closer and halts right in front of him. He has to look up to stare into the eyes of his taller brother, but that doesn’t make him any less intimidating.
“Dad has given us an order,” he growls, his words spoken in a low tone.
“I said: I. don’t. care,” Sam battles him.
“Well I do, you stubborn dumbass!” Dean counters with a raised voice. “What you are planning to do is fucking dangerous! Dad doesn’t want you on his tail, you’ll blow his cover!”
“You’re calling me a dumbass?! Dad is after an incredibly powerful monster by himself, alone! He’s the dumbass for not accepting our help! We already lost Mom, I lost Jess, I’m not going to lose him too. I want answers, I want a piece of that son of a bitch that ruined our lives and I want it right fucking now! If Dad doesn’t want me there, that’s his problem!” Sam shouts angrily.
“You’re going against him?” Dean isn’t impressed with the outbreak, and slightly shakes his head. “Oh right, I forgot. That’s what you always do; the exact opposite of what he asks!” he continues cynically.
“He doesn’t ask. He orders,” his brother corrects. “And you follow those orders like a fucking lapdog.”
“It doesn’t matter how he tells us what to do, Sam! He’s our God damn father, so you better suck it up and fucking LISTEN!!!”
Dean is sure one of Ronny’s neighbors is going to emerge from one of the houses, telling them to shut up and take this argument elsewhere, instead of fighting it out in the middle of the street. He doesn’t care, however. His little brother has forgotten his place, and he needs to set him straight.
“I do whatever the hell he tells me to do because I trust him, because I respect him, which is something I’m gonna strongly advise you to do as well, because your attitude fucking stinks,” Dean lectures, his moss green eyes penetrating, fire burning in his irises. “Now get in the fucking car, because we’re going to drive to wherever those coordinates lead us to.”
Puffing his chest while straightening his back to make himself seem even taller, Sam crosses his arms. His older sibling might think he has all the authority, but he’s not a little kid anymore who he can boss around. Those days are long gone. He thought his departure to Stanford taught Dean a lesson or two, but apparently he needs to remind his brother that he plays by his own rules, and no one else's.
“I’m not going with you,” he decides, standing his ground.
For a moment, Dean just stares at him, giving him a second to reconsider that conclusion, but Sam doesn’t even blink. Their gazes battle, the air between them almost too thick to breathe, rivalry carving a deep canyon between the two.
“I’m gonna give you a choice,” Dean snarls. “You can come with me and solve that case, or you can go fuck yourself.”
Sam gulps, but stands his ground. His facial expression doesn’t change as he steps back, away from his brother, and heads over to the back of the Impala without breaking eye contact, until he opens the trunk to grab his duffel. The glare Dean receives when he slams the lid closed says enough; he’s not coming along for the ride.
Stunned, Dean stares at him and huffs in disbelief. Un-fucking-believable. He has always known Sam was stubborn, but now he takes the cake. Disappointed, the older brother shakes his head. This is the second time Sam has chosen a different path and leaves him without even batting an eye, but it scares Dean just as much as when he left and went to college. He’s not alright with what he’s about to do, but he can’t give in. He has to listen to his father.
Frustratingly, he pulls open the door of the Impala. “Goodbye, Sam.”
Trying to hide his unpleasant surprise, the man left in the road watches him. He didn’t expect this, Dean taking off without him, but then again, how could he not expect a soldier to follow orders from his general? It doesn’t change anything, though. He is dead set on investigating this lead and finding his father.
The man who is about to put a distance between himself and the one person he swore to never part with again, glances in the rearview mirror. He wishes he hadn’t, because the coldness in Sam’s hazel eyes seems foreign, yet familiar. As Dean starts the engine, he realizes he is either having a major deja-vu, or is reliving one of the worst days of his life. Despite the painful pressure that’s building in his chest and the panic that floods his brain, he lowers his right foot on the gas pedal, and the car rolls away. He doesn’t drive off as fast as he normally would, because he’s fighting the urge to turn around. Pained, he glances in his mirror again.
“C’mon, Sam. Move,” he begs.
But Sam doesn’t even lift a finger, and he remains in the exact same spot. Then he does move, but not in the way Dean hoped. His little brother turns his back on him and heads towards downtown Hillsboro, in the opposite direction.
With a deep sigh, Dean shakes his head, clamping his left hand around the wheel until his knuckles turn white.
“Stubborn bastard,” he sighs.
His jaw clenches, as West Elm Street flows over in Route 22 and the landscape around him changes. Small homes and sheds make room for stretched out farmlands. But he doesn’t notice the scenery. His conscience is fighting his heart. He wants to hit the brakes and pull the car into a 180° so badly, but he has to listen to his father. Never in his life has Dean done anything else than that, disobedience not being a word one could find in his dictionary. Yet in this situation, both of the options are pitfalls. It doesn’t matter which way he goes, he will make a mistake either way. Because the one line that his father drilled in his mind over and over again keeps haunting him.
Take care of Sammy.
He grinds his teeth, but continues to drive further and further away, his upbringing leaving him no choice. The hunter has made his decision; he’s going to find the location of those coordinates and do the job his Dad has given him. He knows what he’s doing, he’s just hoping Sam does too, because if something happens to his little brother, Dean knows he will never be able to forgive himself.
Well, shit. The boys have gone separate ways. Who do you think will find what he’s looking for?
Thank you so much for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page)
Read part four here
#Supernatural: the Sullivan Series#Dean Winchester fanfiction#sam winchester fanfiction#Dean Winchester angst#Sam Winchester angst#dean fanfiction#sam fanfiction#Dark!Supernatural#Supernatural#SPN#Dean Winchester#Sam Winchester#Zoë Sullivan#Dean Winchester x OFC#sam winchester x ofc#Dean x OFC#Sam x OFC#Supernatural fanfiction#SPN fanfiction#supernatural series#SPN series#Dean Winchester series#Sam Winchester series#STSS#Black Dog#1x03 Black Dog#Kate Huntington
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Metanoia - Chapter Eleven (f.o)
Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.
Word Count; 4.2k
Warnings; swearing, mention of murder and torture
NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.
–
You run your fingers over the white cotton sheet, trying to ignore the fact that you’re currently inside of the training center. You’d be able to recognize this place with your eyes closed. It’s made out of concrete with all the newest technologies. The people that are walking around here--especially the avoxes--have the same clothes and designs as the people inside of the training center.
Of course, the avoxes change clothes, but the things they wear are still outstanding and degrading to differentiate them from everyone else. They still look as best as they possibly can while also looking like a servant. That doesn’t mean that they can’t re-wear clothes though, which is exactly what’s happened.
The avox that stands in the corner of your room wears the same black and white plaid outfit that they wore during the night of the interviews. It’s a terrifying outfit, really. You absolutely hate it, which is another reason why you’re avoiding eye contact. You’d ask them to turn around if it weren’t for the fact that she has to keep an eye on you.
The doors to your “hospital room” are glass, you can see right through them. Which also means that you’re able to watch the doctors that come in and out of rooms. Some push carts, others don’t. It doesn’t really matter, all that does is that there’s brief moments where someone isn’t in the hallway.
They all look so rushed, as if they’re working on some sort of deadline. How fast they’ll move…
It’s almost as if there’s something going on out there. Or they don’t want you catching on to what’s happening.
“Huh.” you push yourself up from the bed, impatient at the lack of attention that you’re getting, compared to whatever is going on out there.
As soon as you get too close to the glass, the avox jerks forward and grabs a hold of your arm. It’s not a tight grasp, she just pulls you back a little, and then lets go. Hell, from what you can see, she’s fearful. Like you’ll blow up on her or something.
“Is someone coming, then? Soon?” you ask, and she nods.
You sigh, running a hand through your hair as you take a seat on the bed again. This time, you find something to occupy yourself. Firstly, there’s no cut on the back of your head anymore, it feels like. No bump, no dip, it might be completely healed. It really just means that you’ve been here for a couple of days.
As for everything else that has happened to you--it’s gone. No more scabs from the man-eating spiders. Your skin is smooth, but that doesn’t excuse every single little scar that it’s left behind.
Your heart twists, you hold your arms out in front of you, seeing the fresh scars. Next are your legs, which are even fresher. They’ve still got that bright color to them, not yet blending into your skin tone. And it’s probably because you didn’t pay as much attention to your legs as you did your upper body.
Which was because your upper body was being televised. For the rest of that day, you were only in a sports bra. There really wasn’t a point in your eyes to just strip down the bottom half of the suit to apply ointment that wouldn’t even stay put. No one would be seeing it anyway.
The scars are fixable, you think. It’ll cost money, but you can get clear skin again--’polished’ as they say. It would have to come before the rest of the tattoos, though… and the old tattoos would also have to be fixed in that case. A lot of money, and you’re not too fond of fixing those tattoos. They’re memories, keepsakes.
You could always just get the rest of your body fixed, and leave your arms alone to avoid all the fixing stuff. It’s your best bet.
You look to your left wrist to see the soulmate words. You rub your thumb over them for a moment, and then scowl.
They left you behind. They left you with Johanna and Peeta, which was the worst thing that they could have done.
They didn’t even wait. Or even try with you standing there--it’s not like they couldn’t have seen you! You were standing right fucking there beneath their noses. And with how everything had gone down, you’re sure they could have afforded one more drop. There was more than enough time.
The glass doors slide open, making you look up.
You can’t help the amount of rage that shoots through your veins instantly.
“And so we meet again,” the words are bitter out of your mouth, you press your lips together in a thin line.
President Snow.
He motions the avox out of the room, and she listens without hesitance. With that, Snow sits in the chair--that you hadn’t even noticed was there--and crosses his legs.
“Yes we do.” he says.
You clench and unclench your teeth while you stare at him, trying not to have an attitude, since this man can kill you with the snap of his fingers and not even feel remorse for it. However, it all goes out the window because he’s sitting right in front of you with a smug look.
This motherfucker has ruined your life over and over and over.
Before your first games, you had it good. You had a big, loving family. You had two sisters and three brothers, and a pair of parents that would do anything to protect you all. Your grandparents, aunts, and uncles, and cousins were all alive. You had big gatherings during the summers, and cried when they had to go home.
And then you volunteered for the games, as you were instructed to do. You won your games, and at the end of your so-very-rich victory tour, he presents you with the worst fucking offer you’ve ever heard. Sell yourself for more money. Money, jewels, riches, clothes, love--adoration.
Except, it wasn’t an offer, he was telling you. But what he wasn’t telling you, was that he was picking off those cousins, those aunts, uncles and grandparents. Next were those siblings of yours, and when you said no for the final time, your parents. You came home to a fucking massacre in your childhood home.
Everyone looked like they were frozen in place. They were shot, beaten, bruised and bloody, but they were right where they had been when it had happened. Your father was still in his armchair, your mother face-down in dirty sink water, your siblings playing in their rooms, reading books, sleeping.
It was all the same for the rest of your family too.
And when the first fucking check with your victory money came through, you used it all to put them in the ground. You basically had your own fucking cemetary.
The worst part is that you agreed after all that. He had killed everyone, and yet you still went through with it, as if you had anything else to lose. Your family was the only thing that you had left. It wouldn’t be the same if he killed friends, because it’s not you who would be grieving anymore, it would be their family.
While you were touring the Capitol on President Snow’s order, you got the tattoos done. You had the flowers done first for your family, every name had a flower that reminded you of them, and at your wrist would be the soulmate tattoo. You had your left arm done first so that the Capitol people would think that you were being sweet.
Then you had the graveyard done. And along came the graveyard, came the nastiest fucking attitude any of them had seen. It only took a week before Snow basically packaged you up and sent you back to District Two. He has to admit that it was smart of you to do that. And for fucksake, you’d do it again.
The attitude is a defense mechanism to keep the people who are too weak-hearted and manipulative-looking away. Only the ones who don’t care, stick through it. And they tend to be the more understanding type on top of that.
The last time that you saw President Snow--other than on tv or in person as the tribute parade--was when he tried to convince you to allow Tanith to be sold around the same way you were.
You felt so fucking smart then, for picking her out specifically. You basically told Snow ‘good luck’ with trying to find anyone she cared about to kill off. She’s a fucking orphan, and back then she didn’t really like you very much. So, he couldn’t get to her by attacking you.
With Zavian, he just wasn’t desirable.
“Stop staring and get to it already.” you snap, lowering your chin a bit as you bite your cheek.
Snow laughs, “Never was one for small talk.” he pauses for a moment, his face becoming more serious, “What do you know about Katniss Everdeen and her plan?”
Well, this can be a very easy answer, or a very hard one.
Technically, you don’t know anything. You don’t know any part of the plan that they had going on, except for the fact that they had to keep an eye on Katniss and Peeta the entire time. Just to make sure that they wouldn’t get hurt, killed or ran off. The only thing you had the slightest clue on, was the fucking time on when you guys would get out. And even then, it seemed like that was unplanned.
But at the same time, you know a lot more than you’re supposed to, thanks to that talk with Finnick before the interviews. His question of whether or not you were a loyalist was an immediate click. You knew in that exact moment that he was planning something with the others.
You look over Snow’s face, he’s studying you, waiting patiently. It’s only been a couple of seconds.
You can’t play dumb, you can’t say anything stupid or he will know and be on your ass almost as quickly as you knew of the plan.
“You want the truth?” you ask him, he motions for you to get started, “I didn’t know anything, I wasn’t told a single thing--I put the pieces together myself, and it wasn’t very easy to do. Which means, I could be completely wrong.”
“Tell me what you think you know, then.”
“I thought that Finnick, Katniss, Peeta, and Johanna were in an alliance, and that they were all getting along.” you lean forward, “I was wrong. Katniss wanted to kill Finnick in the cornucopia until he showed her some dumb bracelet that belonged to Haymitch.
“I only stuck around them inside of the arena cause Finnick and I are soulmates.” you hold up your wrist for Snow to see, “I wouldn’t have dreamt of doing it otherwise.”
Snow squints at you, ignoring your arm, “What else?”
“Finnick and I had a conversation thirty minutes prior to the interviews.” you lift your chin a little now, trying to recall the entire conversation, “The basis was an alliance between him and I, at least. I chose to ask because of the scores that they had all gotten, thinking that it would be better to be on their good side. I didn’t want to be hunted.”
Snow watches you hesitate, and you know that there’s no way you can avoid this now.
The thing is, you’re trying to not get anyone in trouble, while also saving your own ass, and it’s hard to do. Because you don’t owe any of them a single thing, but there’s something in your chest telling you to do it anyway.
You feel… anxious. And it’s your own emotion.
Your voice is quieter, “Finnick had asked me a peculiar question just before the conversation was over, and I still don’t know what it means.” Snow won’t be able to tell if you’re being truthful or not, “He asked me if I was a loyalist.”
Snow hums, rubbing his white beard, “That’s not it.”
You shake your head, “That’s it. Finnick knew that I had wanted to be in their alliance to be able to kill him and the others. He said that he wouldn’t let me in because of that, and then he asked me if I was a loyalist. I told him I didn’t know what he’s getting at.” you draw your eyebrows together, “That’s when Haymitch came around the corner, must’ve heard us talking or something. He said that the interviews had started, and the conversation ended after that.”
“Which hallway?”
“The uh--first hallway to the left if you’re standing in the main corridor. In the direction of leaving the backstage area.”
Snow nods now, standing to leave.
“When do I get to go home?” you ask, sliding off the bed to get to your feet too. He’s not going to leave the room until he gives you an answer.
“Soon. I want to show you something first.” Snow says, “Get dressed.”
He takes a step out, leaving around the corner. The avox comes in with some clothes, nicely folded in her arms. The doors don’t offer much coverage, but it’s not really anything they haven’t seen before.
You strip, pulling on the new clothing carefully, afraid of hurting your newly healed skin. It’s a pair of black skinny jeans, and a pink shirt with a breast pocket. The avox then holds out a pair of black tennis shoes for you to slip on after that. And when you’re done, she leads the way out of the room.
You follow her down the hall, passing by everyone who’s moving so quickly. When you get a glance through the windows into the courtyard, you can see that you’re on the base floor, and the building towers over you.
The hallways wind confusingly, but the avox manages. She has this place memorized as if there’s a map in her mind. For a while, you’re confident and unaware of your surroundings, until you pass through a hallway with cages. Only then do you get apprehensive.
Snow is in the next room, which is a corridor of white. The avox backs off, standing in the corner, and you take it upon yourself to approach Snow by yourself. He’s in front of a particular door, staring through the window in the door.
“Katniss Everdeen, Finnick Odair and Beetee Latier have been taken to District Thirteen, did you know that?” Snow asks, he looks at you briefly, before back through the door.
There’s a sick feeling in your stomach.
“No, I didn’t.” You don’t want to see what’s through that window.
“But you knew that they were taken out of the arena.”
Just thinking about that night gives you a goddamn headache, especially with all that happened afterwards.
After the hovercraft had left, you stared for what felt like forever. Feeling dejected and betrayed, especially with all the time that had been left over. No one came for you, so it was up to you to decide what would happen next.
When you had finally gotten over your feelings, you went ahead and found Johanna, who was right next to a panicked Peeta. Screaming in her face about how all of that was her fault. Johanna took it like a champ, with her mouth sealed shut and everything. But the second that you were there, Peeta turned on you like a rabid dog.
You tried to take a page from Johanna’s book as you calmly explained to him that Katniss, Finnick and Beetee were taken by a hovercraft.
Peeta didn’t like that, and with him getting in your face, an anger was rising from your stomach to your throat. Like simmering grease, only you’re not supposed to let grease simmer. Because it gets dangerous, begins to pop and burn the skin, and that was exactly what had happened.
You tried to get Peeta to back off, because you didn’t want to make a huge mistake with Johanna standing two feet away. But he kept pushing, and pushing, and pushing so you swung. He fell, and when he tried to get back up, still running his fucking mouth, you lost it.
You hadn’t felt that angry since you found out that your entire family was dead. You did everything you could possibly imagine to harm Peeta in that moment. The first kick to his ribs was the weakest, but the second definitely left some sort of damage. Then Johanna tried to come over, and you knocked her out without a second swing.
Peeta would have gotten the absolute shit beaten out of him if it weren’t for the second hovercraft that had shown up. Only, this one dropped peacekeepers, and you knew instantly that you were in huge trouble. With the arena falling apart, the fire eating at the forest around you, the lack of Katniss, Beetee and Finnick due to an earlier hovercraft, and the fact that you were clearly grouped up with the two morons.
Johanna was an easy grab, Peeta fought relatively hard, and there was no struggle from you. The only thing you actually remember is getting a sedative inside of the hovercraft, and that was it.
“Yes, I knew that they were taken out of the arena.” you answer Snow, blinking a bit to refocus your eyes, “And that means that Peeta and Johanna are here.”
Snow moves aside for you to see inside, and with the pucker of your lips, you move over to see inside. You clench your teeth, expecting the worst, and when you do finally look in, it’s… you can’t put it into words.
Peeta is strapped to a chair, malnourished, purple eye bags that are see able even from this distance. He looks nothing like he did before, he looks gross. Like a…
Like a boy that would have to file for tesserae to eat for the next year. A kid from the Seam.
You swallow thickly, “What the fuck?”
“If I find out that you aren’t telling the truth--” His voice is measured, but there’s an underlying tone, anger, you think, “--then I will bring you back from District Two. And I will be getting the real answers.”
If this is what they’ve done to Peeta--sack of flour, absolutely harmless--you can’t imagine what loudmouth Johanna looks like.
“I’m telling the truth.” you tell him, your eyes flickering back to Peeta.
He’s spotted you now, and the two of you stare at each other, eyes locked and neither of you move. With the look of you, he relaxes. It’s strange that the sight of you gives him so much peace, even though you would have killed him if the peacekeepers hadn’t come. But he must see something in your face, because he draws his eyebrows together, like he’s asking a question.
“How long have I been here?” you ask Snow.
“A couple of weeks.”
You look at him now, “I’ve been in a coma?”
“Medically induced. Those spiders weren’t just flesh-eating, they were venomous too.”
Not to mention your head injury, and everything else that had occurred inside of there. You might as well be lucky to be alive.
“I want you to do something for me, when you do get back to District Two.” Snow says, you look at Peeta again to see that the glass is blocked.
“Which is?”
“Show them that you are a loyalist, and get the rebels to calm down.”
One word spirals up in your mind, strong and stubborn that you struggle to hold down; No.
They have Peeta strapped to that chair like he’s an animal. They’re starving him, they’re depriving him of sleep, and that window is blocked because they’re doing something to him.
“I’m not agreeing to that until I get to see Johanna and anyone else you have here.” you tell him, “Only then I will try to get two to settle down.”
Snow smiles a little, “You’ll have two weeks.”
You nearly laugh in his face right then, but manage to hold it back, “I don’t have much of a choice, I’ve already agreed, haven’t I?”
Snow nods approvingly, before leading you right next door. In this chair is Johanna. Her hair is shaved, she’s soaking wet, and she’s thrashing against the restraints without control. You take back what you said about Peeta, this is an animal. Doing this to Johanna is like putting an angry lion inside of a small cage. It’s only a matter of time before she gets out and explodes.
She looks just as hungry and tired as Peeta does. But Peeta isn’t getting nearly as bad as tortured as she is. She looks like she’s been through hell and back, as if she’s seen the devil himself and laughed in his face.
In this case, Snow would be the devil, and she would be the exact fool to do something like that.
Johanna spots you the same way that Peeta did, by the off chance that her eyes glance over the glass. The second that she has, she relaxes for a moment, and the window is covered almost immediately after.
The both of them had the same reaction upon seeing you. You can’t think of a reason why, until it hits you. They have to be thinking that you’re here to save them. You’re seeing the state that they’re in, and they’re hoping that you’ll relay the message to tell someone of their condition, you’re sure of it.
Snow grabs your arm, yanking you along to the door across from Johanna’s. When you look into this one, you’re a little more confused.
“Annie Cresta wasn’t inside of the hunger games.” you place your hand against the glass, “Why--”
“Leverage.” Snow says simply, “Who would she belong to, Miss Rosecelli? Who would tear the world apart to get to her?”
It dawns on you then, and you nod a little bit. Finnick, obviously. This is Finnick’s girlfriend, the one that you told him to keep.
“What’s the point of having her if you’re not starving her like the rest?” you ask.
“I do have morals.”
‘Not very high ones’, you think.
“I’m surprised,” you look at Snow, “Considering all the other shit you’ve done, you still have a heart.”
Annie is healthy, that’s all you have to say about her. She’s got rope to twirl and knot, she’s got books to read, food to eat and a nice bed. She’s not strapped to anything, it looks like she has medication, and she’s content. You can’t help but to wonder if she’s secretly going insane or plotting her escape, though.
“One more room.” Snow ignores your comment, ushering you to the door to the right of Annie’s.
You shuffle over, thinking that Snow couldn't have possibly taken anyone else that would matter. Beetee’s girlfriend--or whatever Wiress was to him--is long gone. There’s no leverage to have against her.
“Take a look inside.” he’s smug.
You stare for a moment, before following his directions.
Tanith.
Your hand flies up, going to grab the doorknob, but Snow stops you, a tight hand on your wrist, “Just in case you thought that it’s only your life on the line.”
He’s threatening to kill her.
You clench your teeth together, not removing your eyes from Tanith. She looks almost as bad as the other two do. Except, Tanith is a few days behind. Snow didn’t start the process on her until recently. It won’t take long until she catches up, because he could make that happen at the snap of his wrinkly fucking fingers.
“I understand.” you grind your teeth.
She’s not awake to see you, Snow was anticipating this visit. He had her knocked out so that she wouldn’t try and fight against the restraints. She’s smart enough to slip out of them, it makes you curious if Snow knows that too, or he just wanted to see your reaction to having her unconscious. Like he’s trying to trick you into thinking she’s dead.
“The avox will take you to the hovercraft.” he lets you go, “Two weeks.”
Snow has just made the biggest mistake in his life.
#ilguna#finnick odair#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair oneshot#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair metanoia#metanoia#metanoia chapter eleven
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If I wrote Loki pt 5
(Missed one? Episode 1 Episode 2 Episode 3 Episode 4)
Woo. Coming up on the end. It's been so hard to keep the same stupid storyline and just give Loki a bigger part to play (in his own motherfucking show) rather than just rewriting the whole bloody thing, but it's almost done! And trust me, guys, this has been deliberate (and painful), not a sign of lacking creativity. If I'd really written this thing, there would be no Mobius, no Sylvie, no TVA. It would have been properly about Loki and would not just be a six-hour commercial for the multiverse. Of course, it almost definitely would have also involved Loki in a poly relationship with Sigyn and Bucky if I was allowed to truly run wild 😂 so I'm not saying I'm perfect lmao
Alright. Let's get on with this, shall we?
Episode 5! Almost done! We start with the TVA side of things. Mobius is struggling to calm the other agents and keep them from killing anyone else, not an easy task when enraged, grief-stricken Sigyn is trying to kill them all. He manages to get close to her just long enough to whisper He's not dead; not yet. He slips a Tempad into her hand, winks, and then steals a weapon and prunes her. Happy now? he grumbles at his coworkers, tossing the thing (seriously, what were those called? I keep wanting to call it a melty stick, but this show isn't worthy of a Grandmaster reference XD) back to the stunned agent he'd stolen it from. We have the psycho Variant. Job well done, right? Let's get her processed.
So much for friendship, Sylvie growls at him, horrified by how casually he just murdered Sigyn. I never said I was their friend, Mobius points out, though there's a quick flash of fear and regret as he glances back at the spot where Sigyn once stood. He doesn't know her well enough to care how things go for her, but he's praying she can help Loki. There was no way he could have sent Sylvie; she's feral, she doesn't trust anyone and can't be trusted, and there's no way she and Loki can work together.
Cut to Loki appearing in the pruned dimension. Again, can't remember if it had a name. I only watched these episodes once each, which was more than enough 🤮
Anyway, he doesn't fall out of nowhere; the orange sparks that he disintegrated into on the other side are what come together to recreate him here. He meets a few other Lokis; at least two of them are his age and blue. One is wearing Jotun clothes, and he smirks at OG Loki's look of surprise. "I went straight to Jotunheim after killing Laufey. I only had my throne for a few moments before those wretched TVA people showed up, but it was still mine."
"Did it make you happy?" Loki asks, a tired, resigned smile on his face. He knows the answer before King Loki says anything, and only smiles a bit wider when he says "No. I never wanted any throne." Loki nods and picks up King Loki's train of thought: "Only ever wanted to be seen and valued. But the only thing the house of Odin values is power." They take him to the underground bunker.
His interactions with the other Lokis aren't played for laughs. There's some lighthearted stuff (I'd keep Croki and his reaction to him, because that was genuinely funny) but mostly Loki meeting other Loki variants (several of them female and no one bats an eye) is to show that he was never evil. Self-serving and a little weaselly at times, especially when he was younger, but not evil. King Loki is horrified that OG Loki tried to destroy Jotunheim. OG Loki, in turn, can't even look at Feral Loki who never deluded himself into thinking Odin would ever love him and ran away as a child. Like Old Loki, he kept himself hidden for years before he got lonely and sloppy and the TVA found him.
Each new story more heartbreaking than the last; each new Loki variant reveals more of the horrors they've suffered in service of the TVA's "sacred timeline" before being sent to this place to die. But Lokis don't die; they fight, and they survive. They're all tired. They're all a bit broken. A few have had idle passing thoughts of finding a way out, a way home, but what would be the point? After all, they'd only be sent back again. Princess Loki quietly illustrates this point by revealing that she did get out, once. She ran to her husband and wife - Baldur and Nanna; she loved Sigyn, every Loki who's ever met Sigyn has loved her, but like many of them, she never had the courage to tell her, so she latched onto the pair who would have her - and they didn't recognize her. Their connection had been erased, and her once-partners only knew her as the Trickster who'd once almost gotten Baldur killed. She was captured and sent back to this wretched place, and with nothing left to hold onto on the other side, stayed.
"Then there is a way out," is OG Loki's takeaway. He remembers the prank that had nearly killed Baldur, and he cringes a little, but quickly moves on. He needs to get out, get home. "Where is 'home', Loki?" King Loki challenges him, and that makes him pause. He'd only learned about his Jotun heritage a year ago, Asgard was slated to be eradicated... "Sigyn," he murmurs. "Sigyn is home."
"Then I suppose this is home now." Loki spins to face the source of the snarky voice behind him, and throws his arms around Sigyn, overwhelmed with joy to see her. One of the other Lokis had found her and brought her to the bunker, and all the Lokis are staring at her, missing their own connections with her, but this isn't their Sigyn, so they stay away. She smiles and backs up, holding out the Tempad. "Or we can find a new home."
He takes it, and glances at the others. "Our greatest failing is that we've always done everything alone. Look where that's brought us - all of us, no matter what path we try to take, we're all here." One of them points out that the TVA is why they're there, and he nods. "That's my point. Alone, not one of us can stop them. Our sister tried, and I brought her into their clutches." He points to Princess Loki. "She tried to escape them, but they made sure she was alone. This is not my fate. I refuse. If I can't count on myself, well..." A mocking smirk at his other "selves" turns into a fond, nervous smile as he turns to Sigyn. "I suppose I'd better start counting on someone else for help."
"There is not a single Loki that's ever existed who wouldn't die for that woman," King Loki points out, giving Sigyn a shy smile. She laughs, blushes, and turns to OG Loki, who only shrugs and nods with a sheepish smile of his own. "We can address that later," she assures him. "For now, what's the plan, Loki?"
"If Sylvie can enchant, so can I. We're twins." He grins, putting the Tempad away. "That's a handy failsafe, but I'd like to be done running. I say we enchant the guard dog outside and find out what it's guarding."
Meanwhile, Mobius and Sylvie (I'd be happy to forget about them both, but y'all like them, so...) are discovering the truth behind the "Time keepers". Finding out the whole thing was a sham, Mobius is 100% done. He and Sylvie work together to remind as many agents as they can who they once were, trying to dismantle the TVA from within. While the small army of Lokis (and the beautiful Sigyn ❤) march right up to the hungry murder cloud, Mobius and Sylvie wake up as many variants-turned-agents as they can.
Episode 6 (season 1 finale)
#loki#loki series#loki negativity#fixing bad writing#if i wrote the series#episode 5#almost done#thank gods
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Entwined, Always - 17: Hello, Big Brother
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Lucas sat in the dining room one evening with Zoe, the family getting ready to eat. His mom had dinner prepared and spread on the table. All that was left was waiting for Jack, who listened to the news from the living room. The old man joined them after it ended.
“Supposed to be a hurricane coming in soon,” he said, taking a seat.
His mom questioned, “Oh dear, you mean that storm the news has been watching?”
“The very same. An’ they said it's gotten worse. Category 3, at least. Lucas, me an’ you gonna have to seal windows an’ doors, clean out the gutters, check the pump — you know the drill.”
“Yep,” Lucas replied shortly.
Fuck. Sounded like a huge workload that he didn't feel like dealing with. He entertained Jack listing off their chores and talking about hurricane safety, but didn’t pay much attention as he ate. Louisiana's bayou’d had plenty of bad storms over the years, especially seeing as it was early October, and they’d always been a pain in the ass, with the old house leaking from every possible seam. Last year in September, the guest house basement had been completely flooded out. What fun that was, wallowing around in the muck with the old man, trying to empty the damn thing with a specialized hose. With any luck, the guest house would just collapse in on itself and he would never have to worry about it again.
After dinner, the family returned to the living room to put on the news in hopes of hearing more about the storm. Lucas sat in the corner with Diane, one arm around the dog as he got on his phone and texted Persephone.
‘Supposed to be a hurricane rolling through soon.’
He read their last text messages from that morning while he waited. She'd texted him first; a cute, if not odd greeting.
‘Good morning, papa wolf!’
To which he'd followed up, ‘Morning gorgeous, wtf is a papa wolf?’
He chuckled when he read her response for the second time. ‘You, cuz you're all scruffy and fierce’
‘You are a weird one’
‘Gotta get my weirdness quota in before Saturday’s hands-on training’
Ah, hands-on training. Happiness swelled in him to see it spelled correctly. He'd had her undivided attention and he absolutely loved it. Ronald's death had almost been a blessing. Ever since Ronald kicked the bucket in February, Persephone had been finding more time to spend with him. He didn't finish reading their exchange before his phone notified him of a new message.
‘A hurricane?’
‘Yep, category 3 according to Jack.’
‘Are you guys going to be okay?’
‘Hope so. You know how the storms round here get, but the news just suggested that everyone in the southern parishes evacuate.’
‘Holy shit, are you going to?’
‘Probably not. Momma and the old man are way too stubborn.’
He waited again. She didn't text him back, not even after 5 minutes had passed. It was 7 PM for him, so 8 for her. Probably making dinner for herself and Terry.
Thinking about her relationship with Terry prompted him to quell his anticipation by scrolling back up through their messages. He reread one she'd sent him about a week beforehand when she’d vented to him after a day of almost complete silence.
‘Sorry I couldn't talk much today. Terry called me during class and the motherfucker was threatening to kill herself. I had to call 911 thinking she'd do it and I rushed back home. Turns out, she took almost an entire 2 weeks worth of her happy pills that morning, so I was with her at the hospital all damn day. They're keeping her overnight. Now I'm back at the stupid welfare house. Feels so empty.’
Hopefully, something like that wasn't going on at that very moment. Terry had been a handful this past year. When Ronald had died, Terry’d pawned almost everything to fuel her addiction and Persephone had kept the house(s) barren since then. Terry’d claimed to never be on anything aside from her medication and booze, but neither he nor Pers believed her.
His phone’s notification went off.
‘No way, they can't expect you to just hold down the fort.’
‘That's exactly what they're expecting. Gonna have to seal windows and shit all day tomorrow. What a way to spend my weekend.’
October 5th was when the hurricane was supposed to hit. It was a Sunday and, more importantly, 2 weeks before Persephone’s birthday. No way he was going to forget such an important date, no matter how hectic it got.
She responded, ‘Sounds like it'll suck. I gotta eat and shower before bed, but I'll text you later. Stay safe. Love you.’
‘I will. Love you, momma wolf.’
By the time the hurricane reached Louisiana's shores, it had been raised to category 4. The flooding was the worst part. Everyone, Zoe and his mom included, had to tend to leaks: emptying buckets, mopping up floors, resealing windows from failed or overworked sealants; the works.
Their power had gone out for three days, and his phone battery had died moments after he'd warned Persephone that it was about to happen. Three whole days of no Pers had been a fucking nightmare but he’d managed it. After all, so much work had to be done that it’d kept him quite distracted.
Once the storm had passed and the power had come back on, he let his phone charge and went out to help the old man check the damages. Jack headed to the old house, leaving Lucas to check the boathouse.
The soggy wooden planks going out to the boathouse were so rotted from weather exposure that Lucas purposefully stepped over certain ones. Still, that didn't prevent him from nearly taking a tumble into the bayou when he stepped upon one that didn't look so worse for wear, which sent his foot right through it as though it was tissue paper. Very splintery tissue paper. He'd have to come back out with boards and tools to redo some of the docks. Whoopie. The boathouse itself didn't look so bad, though. It reeked of swamp just like normal and the inside had dried out nicely, including the stairs that led up above the door to the docking area.
They never used the damn thing but for shits and giggles, and to appease Jack so the old man would get off his back, he scaled down the ladder, into the ankle-deep layer of mucky water, and checked the dock outside. It all appeared normal, if not waterlogged and green with algae. There was an old boat still tied up and ready for use that it would probably never get.
Lucas peered around at the trees out in the swamp — none of them had downed, somehow — and the cloudy skies above. Grey as hell, but a parting in the clouds let the sun shine through, illuminating the area. The bayou was so bright, in fact, that he swore he saw something in the distance. Far out there, nestled between the treetops, loomed a silhouette of something tall.
That old Pers-style curiosity wriggled its way into his mind. It must have rubbed off on him good, given that an urge to ride the little motorized boat out there and take a gander sent him on his way. When he did, he was amazed at what he found.
“A boat?” Jack questioned back at the main house during lunch.
“Not just a boat — a huge tanker,” Lucas explained.
There was so much shit to do around the house, however, that he and Jack couldn’t check it out until the next day. It weighed on his mind what he’d seen. It looked like the massive ship had been cracked in several pieces, with all sorts of piping and gnarled metal jutting out of the wreckage. He’d wanted to explore it himself but something told him to get back-up beforehand — some kind of warning in his brain that prompted him to think of Pers and how she’d feel if anything happened to him. As such, he didn’t see too much before heading home to tell the old man. And after lunch, he texted Persephone to explain to her that he was okay and what he’d found.
‘Wow,’ she’d replied, ‘all I’ve found over the past few days has been roadkill and you find a cool busted up ship. Keep me updated, stay safe.’
In the early afternoon the next day, Lucas hurried through his bigger chores to get to the ship faster. He helped Jack, rushing the old man along until they steered the boat back to the huge tanker.
The whole ship really had been split apart and seeing it the second time still ran a shock through him. It had somehow washed up so close to home from the Gulf, probably due to the immense flooding and strong winds. But how did it get completely destroyed? Like it had exploded in two places.
As they drew closer, staring up at the tanker, their small boat bumped something. He scanned the water and his heart skipped a beat. It was a person. Just floating there.
“Oh my—…” Jack trailed off. Then he quickly reached in and grabbed her by the arm. “Lucas, get ‘er other arm an’ help me get ‘er in the boat."
He did. Her skin had been coated in a layer of disgusting blackened slime and looked ashen underneath. She was filthy and cold but as they pulled her into their boat, he could see she was still breathing.
“Holy shit,” said Lucas. “How long’s she been in here?”
Jack turned the boat around. “I have no idea — to think she’d be alive, even since yesterday.”
“Gotta be longer. The hurricane was two days ago n’ I think that’s how that tanker got here.”
“You may be right about that. I’m gonna call the authorities when I get back home, then come out an’ see if I find any other survivors. I want you to stay home, keep an eye on everythin', help your mother, an’ wait for the police to show up, all right?”
Dammit… He’d been hoping to maybe board the ship, but there went that. “All right.”
Back home, Jack carried the soggy, dirty woman to their late grandmother’s bedroom inside the recreation room, laying her down on the bed that Zoe made for her. At his mother’s suggestion, Lucas brought in a bucket full of warm water and a couple of washcloths. Then he and Jack got kicked out of the room and the old man went off to check the ship again.
Lucas made his way to the kitchen to wait for the cops to show up, engrossed in his phone the whole way.
'Y’all will never guess what we found near that boat.’
While he stood by for a response, he brewed some coffee for himself and the rest of the family. Zoe, the type to be summoned by the mere scent of coffee, entered the kitchen in moments, carrying Diane’s favorite toy and energetically shaking it to get Diane to follow. She tossed the stuffed monkey through the serving window and into the dining room, and Diane rushed to fetch.
“Your dog doesn’t seem to like that woman very much,” Zoe said, checking the coffee maker.
‘What did you find?’ Persephone responded.
“Weird, Diane usually loves everybody,” he said to Zoe as he texted. ‘Some woman. Found her just floating in the bayou. Looked like she was covered in black slime.’
“Talkin’ to Persephone?” Zoe asked.
“Yeah.”
“You been a lot easier to deal with ever since you an’ her started chattin’ more.”
Lucas rolled his eyes. “Thanks.”
Zoe chuckled, retrieving a coffee mug from the cabinet beside him. “Just glad to see you two bein’ happy, that’s all.”
‘Holy shit, what? That’s fucking crazy. What happened?’
“Just told Judith ‘bout her, too,” said Zoe as she peered at Lucas’s messages.
He hid the phone up against his chest, eying her with a glare.
“Oh, sorry, I forgot that you’re scared I’ll see Persephone’s nudes on your phone.”
“Shut up.”
She wasn’t exactly wrong — maybe not nudes but he and Pers liked to share… Questionable texts. Having Zoe in the habit of looking over his shoulder wasn’t something he wanted.
He told Pers what had happened, and after some back-and-forth, the cops still hadn’t shown. Strange. Lucas called emergency services again, saying pretty much verbatim what Jack had told them an hour before. But after yet another torturous hour, no one came. Zoe and his mom called the police several times on the land-line and he and Zoe tried on their phones, but cops never arrived.
He had to work on more chores for that day, cleaning up water from new leaks, resealing a few windows that needed it, and his mom and Zoe would check on the woman every now and again. Last they checked, she’d regained some semblance of consciousness, and called herself Mia. Zoe described her as delirious and scared, especially when they told her emergency services were on their way.
Near dinner time, Zoe put on the news for the storm to see why no one had shown up to help the woman. Lucas and his mother set the table and he looked to the television every now and again, curious about the world outside of his bubble. Maybe the roads were too flooded out and the residual thunderstorms too rough for cops to get to his house.
The old man had been gone for hours, causing his mom to glance toward the dining room doors and wring her hands on her long skirt. It was odd to him, too, that Jack was taking so long. He kept Persephone updated as often as he could.
When he finished setting the table, Lucas shoved himself into the corner near the kitchen entrance, leaning against the wall with phone in hand.
“Marguerite!” Jack called from around the corner. “Found another one!”
Lucas’s gaze shot up and he saw Jack lumber through the doors, carrying a little girl who couldn’t have been more than 10. Great, that boat’s causing more trouble than it was worth. He was about to send a message to Persephone when he heard his name.
“We’ll put her up in Lucas’s old room,” his mom said.
“Oh, come on!” Lucas complained, arms thrown out and fist clenched around his phone. “Can’chu put ‘er someplace else?”
“Hush up, boy,” Jack said firmly. “You long out grown that room.”
Ugh. He still had that other laptop up there. His newfound “Fuck You” lists were written almost exclusively in the attic. Plus, the drenched little girl dripped with filthy swamp muck. He’d kept his old room exactly the way he and Persephone left it and that little girl was going to ruin the whole thing. No fighting it, though… He wouldn’t win, as if Jack and his mom couldn’t put the little girl in their room instead, as if he was being completely unreasonable to think that such a sacred area shouldn’t be messed with.
When his mom slipped past him to go into the kitchen, he took a seat at the dining room table, texting away.
‘Just found a little girl near the ship, too. wtf’
He looked through the weather reports to occupy himself. Rain all day, rain all night, more rain tomorrow. How tiring.
Persephone texted him, ‘Wtf is right. And the cops still haven’t showed up?’
‘Nope. I mean, it’s storming, but still we called them hours ago’
‘What was a little girl doing on that ship, anyway? You said it was a tanker’
‘It’s definitely not a passenger ship’
His mom muttered something about heading to her room to fetch the towels she’d not put away yet. Mostly, all Lucas heard was,
“Watch the stew for me, dear.”
“Yep.”
He didn’t look away from his phone and checked his call list; a call to 911, and a couple calls to South Dulvey Parish police. That wasn’t even counting the times he and his family had tried to contact them on their land-line. Persephone’s notification went off again.
‘Dunno why, but I got a bad feeling about this’
‘Don’t worry, Pers. Let’s just think about next summer’
Then the power cut out.
When he tried to text Persephone to let her know, he got an error message telling him he had no service. He sighed gruffly and threw himself back in his chair. As if more things needed to go wrong ever since the damn hurricane. Maybe being able to talk to Pers so often nowadays spoiled him.
He jumped when Diane started going crazy out of nowhere. She barked and growled; vicious, mean, not at all like her. The fur on her back stood as she stared at the windows. Was someone outside? Even if there was, Diane was never much of a watchdog.
Lucas shot up and, at first, sped walked toward the window. But each step made his stomach sink lower and his stride turned to a much slower tread. Pers was right, something was wrong.
By the time he reached the windows, his hands felt clammy from sweat and his heart raced. Diane continued to bark, a crazed sound like he’d never heard from her. She wouldn’t behave that way for no reason. With a shaky hand, he pulled a sliver of their Venetian blinds down and peeked outside.
Out there, in the rain, looking directly into his eyes, was the little girl. He ripped his hand away, gasping hard from the rush of adrenaline. What the fuck? She was just passed out, taken upstairs not even five minutes ago. How did she get outside? Why? And how was she exactly where he’d looked? He’d peered out the window eye-level. How could their gazes have met so perfectly?
“Hello, big brother.”
His heart leapt hard enough that he thought it was going to come out of his throat. He whipped around to where the small, high-pitched voice came from, his back slamming against the window. There was the little girl, perched atop the kitchen table. Diane went ballistic, sticking close to Lucas and barking and snarling like crazy. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t scream, couldn’t do anything except stare in abject horror. The little girl bore into his eyes, or perhaps even deeper than that.
She giggled maliciously, black tendrils dripped from her body, then flew at him. Memories rushed through him at Mach speed, zipping before his eyes near unintelligibly. He went cold, skin like ice. Just before his vision turned black, he saw lightning in his peripherals, Diane vaulting onto the kitchen table, and heard roaring thunder and dishes shatter as the table splintered to pieces.
His fuzzy mind started coming back. How long had he been out? Hell, he didn’t remember what happened in the first place. But Diane licking his cheek was bringing him to reality. His head pounded, body drenched in sweat, and his limbs felt weak as he struggled to push himself up. Diane whimpered and lapped at his hands with her tail between her legs, shivering. He leaned down to pet her and tell her everything was okay (though he wasn’t so sure, given he’d passed out), but he stopped and shot straight up again when he noticed the wrecked table and broken dishes. What the hell happened?
His stomach then churned violently and he thought he might puke. The longer he lingered, shocked, on his sickened stomach, the worse it got, so he dashed to the toilet.
He scrambled up the stairs and toward the bathroom, but as he reached the door, something wrenched his shoulders from around the corner and threw him down the hall. He landed flat on his stomach and groaned from the jolt of pain, amazed he hadn’t been sick immediately.
That something then grabbed him by his jacket’s hood and ripped him down the hall a ways before his disoriented body fought back. He thrashed away from whatever had him and threw himself to his feet, flipping back his hood to face the attacker.
He stammered, “Wha… W-What the fuck?”
Jack reared back and unleashed a powerful punch to his jaw. The heavy hit made him delirious, dizzy enough that he fell on his ass. Jack seized him by the ankles and yanked him down the hall.
“What the hell, Dad!?” Lucas shouted, struggling to flip around so he could claw himself free.
“Oh, hush, boy! Don’cha wanna play with your new sister?”
Jack dragged him to his old room, where that little girl messed the place up with her muck. His new sister? What the fuck was Jack talking about? What the fuck was Jack doing to him!? And those words, that little girl… She’d been there, on the kitchen table, laughing and calling him ‘brother’. What the fuck was wrong with her!?
Lucas kicked wildly, flailing at the cusp of his door. When Jack went to open it, he ripped an ankle free and stomped as hard as he could into Jack’s groin. Jack dropped him and he whirled around, trying to scramble onto his hands and knees. But that was as far as he got before Jack’s boot crushed his back, knocking the wind out of him and slamming him into the floor. Jack ripped him up by the foot again and he thrashed in his grasp.
“Get off me! Get the fuck off me, old man!”
Jack only laughed and spun Lucas onto his back, tearing him into his old room so fast that the ceiling rushed by his vision. The door slammed shut as Lucas tried once again to get to this feet. Jack kicked him in the side with enough force that Lucas heard a bone crack, though the adrenaline made him numb to the pain.
His arms were forced behind him by the old man’s abnormally strong grip and he was made to sit upright before that same little girl. She still looked filthy, dripping black goop. A malevolent smile held fast on her face as she giggled.
“Hi again, big brother.”
Then she vomited.
The same black goop spewed from her mouth, smelling like bile and mildew and rotted fruit. It landed all over him, all over the floor, and down his hoodie. A scream caught in his throat. His voice was gone as he saw his vomit-covered body, blackened with the horrific fluids. He surely was going to be sick, too.
Then the vomit twitched and moved and pulsated as though alive. It quickly grew like disgusting roots, scaling up his body and neck. His voice found, he screamed, but it gave the roots a way to enter his mouth. He gagged and sputtered on it, another wave of her warm, putrid vomit splashing against him, into his eyes and mouth and down his throat. He, too, puked. Gagging and choking, his mind blanked, panic having overtaken every sense. He felt himself slipping. His vision faded, then everything stopped as he lost consciousness.
----
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Veritas - Elias x Reader (Trespass)
The ‘x’ is very suspect. 😉
@mandy23b @wltz-bby @happyskywhale #MendoTagSquad
Author’s Note: The fact I even wanted to watch this is all on you two. Yes you two! I hope you’re happy-! Thank you for making gifs, thank you for reblogging gifs, thank you for watching with me!
Actually to be real with you, this was a plot thread for Kyle Sullivan from Guns For Hire (hence why he is name dropped constantly) but at least Elias gets a little more character development! 😁
I realise that Nick Cage’s character was also called Kyle, but oh well-! Too late to back out now, maybe Elias just shouldn’t mess with people called Kyle...?? 🤷♀��
Don’t Play - Halsey
Disclaimer: Trespass and everything associated not mine / lyrics not mine (but hey! No song title!)
Premise: On the trail of your own payment, a group of robbers pick the wrong house to mess with... One in particular catches your interest.
Words: 3975
Warnings: Swearing / comically written action scenes!
_______
All alone out in Saint-Tropez
Lookin' as fine as this damn Monet
Everybody thirsty, drinks on me
Tryna take back what you say to me
I don't give a damn what you say to me
There ain't no time for games with me
I'm moving on, I'm getting paid
I'm on my own, I had some space to deal with it
I'm moving on, it's getting late
Go and grab someone and find a place to deal with it
I’m not the type to be out past dawn
Tomorrow got a flight headed to Taiwan
Now you know where the bottle gone
Drippin' so wet with the Pérignon
I am not the type to admit I'm on
How could I lie when we sip so strong?
Yeah, don't even try
Can't fuck up my vibe
Double cuppin' in the ride
Motherfucker, don't play with me
---
Sometimes you wondered why you even did this job anymore. There was something about your professionalism that felt your skills would be better used elsewhere. But here you were. It wasn’t exactly something you could escape now – even if you somehow managed that, you’d be tracked down and killed eventually. And hiding was no way to live. It wasn’t that you didn’t – enjoy was the wrong word, but – enjoy what you did, it was that it seemed to get easier… Unless you were just getting better? Perhaps. You’d been at this alone for quite some time and before that, with your mentor by your side… Years almost blurred, and you’d been bounced around the world more times than you could count, so even your time zones were out of sync.
However, now you were back ‘home’ in the US of A you could adjust a little better; despite the presence of four time zones of its own. You were currently working jobs down the East coast, so were only stuck in one.
You stretched, before dismantling your firearm, satisfied that the clean-up exercise was also done. Re-opening the office door you walked out into the corridor as if nothing was wrong; flipping all the security switches back to normal you watched all the CCTV screens re-illuminate. You wouldn’t be in any footage; almost as if you never had been around…
Walking back onto the street in the warm night air you were approached by a second man;
“It’s done?”
“Of course.”
“…It’s no wonder they nickname you as they do is it?” He was referring to the odd, and yet appropriate moniker you’d been given within the circles of your profession.
“Joel. It’s my job to get in and out without getting noticed…” You rummaged in your pocket for a moment, producing a packet from your coat, “See this gets sent to the correct people.”
“Of course… There’s a call, waiting for you.”
“I would have figured…” You walked together towards a black car parked up on the curb, nothing too flashy, nothing to draw too much attention. “…Thank you, Joel.”
“See you back at HQ.”
“That you will.” He opened the door, allowing you to step in. The car pulled smoothly away from the curb - you took one breath, and picked up the call.
“Good evening Sir.”
“I trust it is done.”
“Yes. All accounted for. Documents sent.”
“Good. Your payment will be wired to you as soon as we receive it.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“You haven’t let us down.”
“Do I ever?”
You could almost hear the small smile, “No. I have another for you. We’ll talk about it as soon as you arrive.”
“Of course, Thank you Sir.”
***
The sound of smashing glass downstairs only made you curious. You could guess straight away why someone would look at this house and think it was worth robbing – that or they had a grudge against the owner. If you were honest with yourself, you’d also understand that one. Only their presence here was about to make your errand run a little harder.
Whoever they were clearly hadn’t done any research on the man himself, but you’d leave them to ransack the place and find nothing of value. Mostly because you already had the majority of it on you. Kyle Sullivan had hired you for plenty of jobs before – though you thought, considering your hefty price tag, that his real intention was just to get to see your face – and usually he paid. Well this time Kyle didn’t have the money (or so he said) and you were about to move on; not exactly being the trusting kind or one to wait, you decided to take matters into your own hands and turn up at his house. Mr.Sullivan wasn’t around, so you’d simply take the next best thing, and call yourselves even.
You slid the dresser draw closed and listened for a moment – there was a lot of commotion, clearly they weren’t aiming to be inconspicuous, and you picked out four distinct voices. Three male, one female. Immediately your brain set to work and you straightened, walking across the bedroom floor to listen a little clearer. Kyle had a timer system in his house to make it look like people were around when they really weren’t, he used to bluff that it helped with the security, clearly not. It was how you’d managed to get around – though to be honest you’d be just as effective in the dark with a torch.
Not-so-hushed voices floated to you from the lower level, “There’s gotta be a safe somewhere-!”
“Alright, we’ll split, office, bedroom, look for anything that seems like an obvious place to hide a safe!”
You rolled your eyes; “Idiots.” You didn’t exactly want to leave Kyle’s house full of dead bodies if you could help it – it’d be a waste of ammunition apart from anything else. Wondering if they knew the building layout, you moved from the bedroom to the top of the stairs – having dispersed from below, you descended carefully pulling your gun from it’s hiding place. You might assume they were armed; you wondered why they hadn’t questioned that the alarm wasn’t. If these guys are amateurs, I swear to god…
Glass was sprinkled all over the floor from their makeshift entrance – there was a chill in the night air, but you didn’t shiver as the breeze swept in. All you could really think was it’d cost Kyle money he ‘didn’t have’ to fix it all again.
You glided silently across the lobby floor, trying to decide which set of footsteps to follow; it was oddly quiet for there being five bodies in the house, but you supposed soon enough there would be shouting of ‘anyone found anything’ and you’d prefer they didn’t have time to mobilize as a group again. Having said that, you’d taken out rooms full of people who were real threats before now. This group was nothing.
Even in heels you could make yourself silent as you followed the heaviest set of footsteps; you’d trained to walk, run, fight and even land on heels like this for a very long time, so being quiet was a cake walk…
There weren’t many shadows left in a house when every light was being thrown on, but you made use of those there were, and your silence. And it was pretty easy to take a good look at four people who weren’t doing their best to hide. You could hide in plain sight if you wanted; you certainly weren’t about to stand around doing so though – you didn’t need yelling and screaming, you needed four quick strikes, so no one would know what had hit them.
The order was determined for you – there was only one of them, perhaps two, that really knew what they were doing. The biggest was the obvious first target, because he was the one that looked like he could take you in a fair fight. He was very meticulous in the things he touched and inspected, proceeding from room to room – the expert. The leader was also obvious just by the way that he moved, less meticulous but nonchalant, cool headed – in control, or so he might think. The third man needed to be taken out as quickly as the first; you’d observed people long enough to know what someone dulled down on medication looked like – well, he was the opposite, a jittery livewire who looked like he’d ignored doctors’ orders for longer than safe to do so. Yet if you thought he was tearing up rooms in a state (and you kinda pitied Kyle at this point, but at least he probably wouldn’t know it was you who stole anything.) it was nothing compared to the woman. Your head tipped as you watched the way she would open one draw, be half way through it and get distracted by something else – pulling clothes out of wardrobes, trying them on before discarding them and trying on something else. What was telling was that you could walk half way into the room and your presence wasn’t noticed. Hard drugs were your first and only thought – there were enough tells on her. You rolled your eyes and traced your way back to the lobby before taking a deep breath, neatening your clothing to make sure it wasn’t about to hinder you, you pulled your hair back off your face and checked your gun was loaded – just in case - tucking it into the front of your pants for easy access. That would have been dangerous, but you were a trained assassin, if you couldn’t handle that what could you handle?
You stretched and, turning on your heels, started towards your first victim of the evening. Usually you’d shoot to kill even if the person in question wasn’t your intended target, if they were getting in the way of what you needed to do. You didn’t see the point here – get them down, finish up your own work, and get out of here as soon as possible.
You were right about the first man, he was the heaviest armed – and heaviest set, meaning stealth and speed were going to be the only things getting you through this. Your run up from the room opposite was good, and if he was turning because he heard you or just to move didn’t matter. Your flurry of strikes caught a pressure point, then a nerve, then his head, as you flipped him over your shoulder where he slammed pretty hard onto the floor. You paused for a second, but there wasn’t even a ‘everyone okay-!?’ or curious scuffle from anyone else. You straightened, brushing yourself off, possible overkill – but he was out cold. You smirked; this was child’s play.
The second man was a little easier, although you figured slamming his head into anything probably wouldn’t help the fact he needed medication. You frisked both for anything useful before heading back to the woman; now leaving a trail of clothes up the corridor she wasn’t particularly hard to find again – and you even got cocky enough to have your heels occasionally strike the floor. It was still one of your favourite noises – perhaps the reason you wore them.
You found yourself watching her again and almost pitied her – almost. Your movement across this room was a little slower; and you weren’t sure you wanted to hurt her by knocking her into anything. You got as close as possible before throwing your arm around her neck – she let out a gasp of surprise but not much else before she struggled.
“Hush… Sweetie, it’ll be easier on you…” You tightened your hold, dragging her slowly down to the floor as her grip on you loosened.
“That’s it… that’s it… good girl…” You let her go as she lost consciousness, puling yourself upright. That gave you a little bit of time to deal with the ring leader. You collected your bag of things and threw it around yourself; pulling your pistol, this time you kept it in hand as you walked through the house. This time he made himself a little harder to find right at the back of the house, and you pulled a chair out to wait for him in a side corridor; legs spread you leant over a knee, gun pointed to the floor, head supported by your palm as you ran your fingers over your lips. You’d give him a minute to realise there was nothing worth it this way and walk back.
He did. And you were glad to see his peripheral vision wasn’t as shocking as nearly everyone else’s apparently was by the way he walked by your corridor and paused. By the time he’d taken a step back to turn to you it was already too late.
***
Elias wasn’t exactly sure if he’d missed it entirely or you’d just popped up out of nowhere, but as soon as he stepped back, he was confronted by a woman running at speed for him. And that was the last thing in hell that was supposed to be happening. He sidestepped, but you expected it; grabbing his leather jacket you slammed him into the opposite wall. He was a fighter though, and immediately his arm went for yours and he pushed back from the wall, you weren’t having that. SMACK – one elbow to his chest knocked the air from him and made him stagger backwards but there was no way you was letting him get away that easy; his firearm was out of reach of his hands if he still wanted to fend you off, and it was easy for you to take and send skittering across the floor. This apparently made him very angry, and you dodged his swipes, long coat blurring and disguising your movements. Discovering that he was a quick learner, he had your next few hits pretty well countered, but of course he wasn’t paying attention to your legs – and you had his feet swept from under him; now he was grounded.
“GUYS!”
“Oh honey, they aren’t gonna hear you… You and I are the only conscious people in this house…” Elias’s eyes flicked to the gun in your hand, still pointed to the floor. If he could get that from you, he might just have a chance. You continued to walk forward; “I don’t know if you know, but you picked the wrong house to try and rob…” as you did so Elias backed up, and eventually managed to scramble to his feet. You rolled your eyes again; some people never learn. He came for you once more; having you move to your right was a better move than you’d anticipated, as his hand reached out to snap around your wrist; his grip was tight and he had your gun hand immobilised.
Bringing you closer he crossed your arm around your front, this time pushing you against the wall.
“How’d you like it, huh?”
“Dunno, it’s been a while since a man had me pushed up against a wall. Maybe you should do it again and I’ll tell you.” You gave him a little smirk – situation hardly worrying you. You’d been in much worse. Elias’ eyes narrowed, but the pause in action allowed him a minute to catch his breath and survey you.
Even in heels you were a little shorter than him, hair pulled neatly off your face to make sure it didn’t get in your way you were dressed in all black and all business. The kind of work he did. Your eyes regarded him with a mix of distain and interest, your skin held just a hint of a tan, as if your holidays in exotic places were just wearing off… And for all he knew they could have been, but then why were you stealing from this house? Unless you were security, but you didn’t dress like security.
His blue eyes traced back to your hand; the ring on your finger. It was a tarnished silver… the Latin cut from the ring, hollow/
Veritas. “Truth?” You gave a nod, impressed if only for a second. Elias removed his hand from your wrist to notice the ink under his fingers; “verum nocet?”
“Truth hurts.” - though now he’d loosened his hold on you - “A little like this.” You pushed him back and delivered a swift kick to his chest – this time when he hit the floor it sounded painful, and the thud echoed around the living room.
“Now…” You clicked the safety back on your gun and holstered it again, “Personally, I don’t like leaving a mess. But I certainly could if I needed to…” You stepped over him, and watched the way he breathed heavily, but his eyes still traced your body. God, men are so predictable.
A beep sounded from another room and you raised your eyebrow, “Is that… a 20-minute burglary alarm? Oh my god, you guys are amateurs. This is kinda embarrassing…” For them, obviously. You titled your head, “What’s your problem with Kyle Sullivan?”
“We don’t have one.” He managed, still winded, “Have you seen this fucking house? Why are you here?”
“Kyle hired me to assassinate someone and didn’t pay up, I’m just taking what’s due to me. I heard you talking about safes, but you’ve picked the wrong man, …?”
He realised you were waiting for his name, but you didn’t miss his eyes widen at the word assassinate; “…Elias.”
“…Elias. Because Mr.Sullivan keeps the real important things at the bank or in his downtown office… The only things worth taking are in my bag, because I know where to look. You guys are a little late.”
“What did you do to everyone-!? What the hell did you do!? My brother, my girlfriend-!?”
“She’s your girlfriend?” You raised an eyebrow, “Oh. Oops…” You pushed your heel into his chest; “…Oh, honey, I think you could do better…” You gave a smirk at the wince on his face and crouched slowly. He was still giving you that same look and the only thought that crossed your mind was ‘some girlfriend…’ You bit your lip, eyes flicking from his eyes to his lips and back; “Like me…”
“I don’t even know your name.” You moved your foot so you were now straddling him, hands either side of his head;
“OH. Elias, don’t let that stop you! Though, you seem pretty immobilised at the moment, honey…” You leant down, face close to his, “Besides – when else are you gonna get the opportunity to say you got to kiss an assassin and live, hmm?”
“Maybe you should get out the Champagne and we can celebrate.” You liked his attitude, even pinned under you.
“Perignon do you? He’ll have some somewhere.”
Elias scoffed, “Sounds like your interest in this guy isn’t purely professional.”
“Please. I don’t sleep with clients.” You watched his eyes trace your body again and this time he bit his lip. “You sure about that girlfriend of yours?”
“Shut up.” His eyes met yours again, “What do you want?”
“To get out of here without a hitch with my shit, darlin’…” You ran your nails over his face, and he shuddered, lips parted, “…You’re not going to make that too hard, are you? Cuz I can be out of your hair in five minutes if you want…” Elias’ eyes fluttered closed as they scraped down his neck and over his chest.
“Fuck…”
“Tell me you’re not still thinking about her…” You gave a smirk, “Do you want me to give you a name to scream?”
His eyes snapped open at that and he swallowed hard, but you chuckled, “Don’t worry, I hardly have the time. But baby, understand I can’t just let you go… Still, I’d like not to leave Kyle’s house a complete mess. So, I don’t want to have to kill you.” You leant over him again, this time running your hand through his hair. “So why don’t you be good, hmm? And we can all get out of this mess alive.”
“…Why…Why Veritas?”
You raised an eyebrow, “You get five minutes with me and you chose to discuss Latin?” You smiled, face close to his “…That’s poetic… Do you ask every girl you meet why she had the tattoos she does?”
“That’s not just a tattoo.” Elias got this cocky look on his face suddenly, and his eyes flashed, like he’d just figured you out;
Your voice got a little lower; “The truth is a powerful thing…” He very nearly scoffed, but that turned to a gasp as soon as your hips ground against his – it was nothing more than a tease, as much as a warning. Just to let him know who was in control here. “Which makes it a problem, no matter what you say. Which is why people lie. Half of my life is based on pretending I’m something I’m not. By the time they find out what I really am… It’s too late. Truth hurts… My mentor used to say it all the time. Before he shot.”
“Must have been quite the man.”
“Mmmm.” You nodded, “Twice the man you think you are.”
That was enough for him to growl; sick of you mocking him, Elias grabbed your shirt and pulled you in, lips on yours roughly, his kiss was harsh – you pinned his wrists back – determined to keep it for as long as you could. It wasn’t like you got to do something like this often, you didn’t keep relationships like this – they usually ended in disaster.
You pulled back, both breathless and he could tell by the look on your face that you were about to say something else smart – which only led to him yanking you back for another; he freed one hand – running it through your hair; this time your grind against his hips was pretty near involuntary, and he arched his body up into yours. Elias very nearly hated himself for moaning, but this was comparable to hate sex (unfortunately void of real sex) and he wanted nothing more than for you to tear his clothes off and have him right here. It was delightfully sinful to even think about. But you pulled back, and before he could think his next thought, you’d dragged him across the floor and cable tied him to the coffee table.
“What the Fuck!?”
“Oh, baby…” you stole another kiss, “I told you, I can’t stay for that. And…” You threw your bag back across your body from where you had left it, “You know what they say, leave ‘em wanting more…”
You crouched again, but were unable to resist giving him another hot kiss, nails back to digging into his face and throat, “Now your friends will be awake soon, just hope it’s before Mr.Sullivan gets home…” You straightened up, “I should thank you, Elias… I can blame all this on you…” You winked and blew him another kiss, “That was enjoyable. I’d like to get a little hotter and heavier if our paths ever cross again… I won’t tell her if you don’t.”
With that you swept through their make shift entrance, hardly paying attention to whatever he was yelling after you, and hopped back into your car. Maybe you’d give Kyle a tip off tomorrow… Maybe you’d just let him wallow in misery, you wouldn’t have to do this if he had just paid you properly.
You pulled away from the house with a smirk on your face – you couldn’t help but admit, that was the most fun you’d had on a job for a long time.
***
Elias was not impressed that they were all laughing at him,
“Will you just get me the fuck out of here-!?”
“Alright, hold still…”
“I have been reliably informed that we’re out of luck on this one.”
“Well. There’s always another rich bastard somewhere else…”
“There’s that…” Elias rubbed his wrists and stood; but as he did so something fell from his jacket – landing on the floor it looked like nothing more than a white piece of card.
Ty picked it up with a raised eyebrow, and then looked back to Elias; “Elias, who’s Y/N?”
“Huh?”
“Dude it fell from your jac-”
“I know!” He took it, flipping it over. The second side was black; your name in little white letters and a number underneath. That wasn’t coincidence – that was you. It had to be you. Did assassins have calling cards?
He couldn’t help but smirk to himself before he flipped it back. The light caught it just right, and the iridescent white suddenly shone out against the dull card.
Veritas.
Truth. Truth was you wanted to see him again. Truth was, it might have only been a kiss, but he wanted that just as bad.
---
Thank you for reading! 😁
#Trespass#Elias#Ben Mendelsohn#Would 100% write more of this!#Assassin Extrodinare#151#Linzi Writes#Smol Bean Drabbles#Carla#Carla Lagorio#I get to bring Carla back for round 2 with a different man but the same kinda prospect?#whats funny Ms.Amanda is I had this plot before you said anything about the type of girl you wanted him to have#and I was cackling#She's certainly a man eater - but she's meant to be so I'll forgive her#Theres a TON of Bookdock Saints references in this#If you can't guess whereabouts I made my OC... hahahaha... that's where she started!
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The Truth Untold; Sebastian Stan -> II
.Previously
Summary: Y/n Y/l/n, born and raised in south side Chicago. Now raising her five younger siblings, she’s not even sure if some of them are actually related to her. But she takes care of them nonetheless, as best as she can. While her drunk father continues to make their life harder. And her drug addicted mother comes bursting through the door once every to years. Its a chaotic life for a 23 year old, but she made it work. Until one day, the most notorious mob leaders of the country shows up to do some business in the south side.
Au: Shameless!Au, Mob!Seb
Warning(s): Cussing, smut(fingering), violence, and tiny mention of domestic abuse.
Word Count: 5.9k
Authors Note: I said i wasn’t going to make a second part but here we are, 1 month later lmao.
@chims-kookies @superdrysuperfry
a doua întâlnire
Sebastian Stan; An enticing enigma.
As people come to learn—he comes and goes whenever he pleases—takes whatever he wants, whenever he wants. And no one says a word, too afraid to face him. God forbid anyone say a word. He’s a walking dynamite ready to explode. A man of his word, and many duties. The devil in sheep’s clothing. If you were to cross his path, you outa be afraid. His gaze was intense, cold, almost. But if you stared just a little longer, you’d see the lost hope and dreams swimming in his ocean blue eyes. It was impossible though, no one would dare look him in the eye, too afraid to stir the beast he contains. Women of the evening which his trusted cohorts would provide for him—they never cared enough to look deep into his eyes to notice. Not that he cares. Hell, he didn’t even know it himself. Too invested in his business—and his business only. If you’d do him wrong, no amount of praying will save you from him. Some would call him a sociopath, owning to the fact that he was completely deadpan when it comes to killing or torturing those who don’t follow his rules. He’s a drug lord. He cannot be contained. He vanishes at the forbidden hour — only returning when the aubade is at its highest peak.
He was toxic. Lethal. Everywhere he walked, a trail of pain and fear followed. One might say he feeds off it, he lives off it. He was a beautiful yet wicked soul nature spit out. A wise man who everyone knows not to mess with. He was astute, fatal and leery. A true nightmare.
So why did meeting you somehow made him feel something? Was it because of your troubled life? Nah, couldn’t be. He has met thousands of people with troubled lives and had no issue and making their situations worse.
Maybe it was because you didn’t throw yourself onto him like most females and males did. He was especially surprised at the fact that didn’t become responsive and enticed when he pulled his money out. Yeah, maybe it was that?
He almost felt like he knew you. What type of person you were. So he knew for a fact, that you wouldn’t keep the money he had sent to help you and your family. He sent some of his men to watch over you just in case something wrong happen, even though he knew you were capable of taking care of yourself. But finding him wasn’t easy. He just wanted to see at what extent you’d go just to tell him off. It was only a matter of time before you went after him.
“Has it been delivered?” Sebastian asked as he rose an eyebrow. Making the tattooed boy avert his eyes elsewhere. Anthony, his best man, couldn’t help but chuckle to himself.
“Yes, Sir” The boy nodded, hands behind his back. Eyes everywhere but his.
“Good, now get out.” Sebastian groaned as he got up from his seat and walked over to his mini tray of alcoholic beverages. Watching as the younger male hurriedly left the room.
“You ain’t gotta be so harsh on the boy” Anthony couldn’t help but chuckle, accepting the drink Sebastian was offering him.
“I wasn’t being harsh” He scoffed, turning toward the spot where the boy had been.
I just think that you should go a little easy on your men” Anthony muttered while bringing the glass full of scotch to his lips, brows raised.
“That’ll only give em’ a reason to walk all over me. And I can’t have that. I’ll kill em all.” Sebastian defends his posture, his tone all too serious for Anthony’s liking.
Although Anthony was just as dangerous and powerful as Sebastian was, he was, to many peoples surprise, a pacifist. Which is almost impossible to be in a business so parlous. He just didn’t believe in violence, completely opposite from Sebastian himself.
“See now you’re just far fetching” He pointed a finger at the man, brow raised as he got up from his seat.
“So this girl? You paying child support?” He laughs. “I knew one of these days you were gonna knock up one of em hoes” (I am so sorry. Long live hoes. Be proud of your hoeness)
Sebastian couldn’t help but laugh at the comment, shaking his head as he sat on his wooden desk.
“Nah. Just a beautiful girl who needs a little push” He shrugged, eyes trained on his glass as if it were the most interesting thing in the whole room. He was just hoping he’d change the subject.
“Her name?” Anthony led on.
“Not important” Sebastian breathed out, eyes meeting his as he raised an eyebrow. Adjusting in his seat as he fixed his tie. Hoping he’d change the subject.
“Whatever” Anthony laughs. “Anyway, I gotta go. Have a meeting in half-hour”
Sebastian nods in understanding, glass pressed against his lips. Watching as his best friend leaves his temporary office.
After a few seconds of sitting there, skimming over the papers scattered over the desk. He couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, shaking his head at the thoughts that consumed him. It was almost unbelievable how his thoughts could change from what his next deal was to how you’d be doing, and if you were safe.
He knew damn well that there were bad men at the club that night, he knew they were watching. And it worried him that they’d take it the wrong way, causing you to be in danger.
“Well it seems like you know everything about me, so why don’t you tell me about yourself. I bet it’s much more interesting than my shitty life” She chuckled, though I could barely hear it due to the irritating music that was being played throughout the club. It was adorable, actually. Before I could come up with a lame ass excuse for a profession, I noticed a couple of men in the vip area whispering to one another each other, their gaze firmly on her.
“It’s really crawdad in here, let’s go outside” I lied, wanting to get her out before something happens.
“No” She simply stated. Causing me to stop my movement, I was shocked. I let out a cough as I recomposed myself at the unexpected answer.
“This is how things work. I walk out with you, you tell me your oh so tragic childhood which causes me to pity you. Soon, once I’m under your spell, you chloroform me and a white van appears out of nowhere and I’ll be part of an illegal sex and drug trafficking ring” She gave me an innocent smile. There was no reasoning with her, so I moved closer as if to protect her.
“I’d actually be much more creative in kidnapping people”
“Y/n, it’s been a week. I can’t believe it’s taken you this fucking long to find one guy” Jeremy hisses as he passes back and forth in the kitchen, where you sat in one of the stools.
“It’s not easy, okay. This guy literally just disappeared in midair. It’s driving me crazy” You groan, elbows resting on the table as you ran your fingers through your hair in frustration.
It’s been exactly a week since you’ve received that money, and you were growing desperate everyday trying to find the mystery man who dropped it on your front door. By the fourth day you kind of gave up. Juggling three jobs and taking care of all your siblings was stressful enough, and playing Where’s Waldo was not how you decided to spend the rest of your days. So your only choose was to tell Camille about the whole situation. You put your faith in her, she was the closest thing to an FBI, and so you were certain she would find him.
“I hate to break it to you, but we’re going to have to use that money eventually” Your head shot up and the sound of your other brother, Cameron.
“What-“
“I told him” Jeremy sighs while leaning against the counter, one arm resting on his hip.
“We are not going to use that money.” You firmly say.
“Why not?” Cameron snickers in disbelief.
“We’re running out of food, there’s no water and I’m pretty sure Ethan is selling drugs. Jeremy’s tuition is up his ass and we just got an eviction notice. We have no other choice, Y/n” He finishes, his eyes sad.
“Give me some time and we’ll find a way to pay off everything.” You sigh sadly. He was right, this money could help with at least some problems you had. Before you could make another promise, your front door opened and shuts with a loud bang.
“I found that motherfucker” Walks in Camille with a piece of paper in her hand. Her brows raised and lips pursed.
“Him? As in, him, him?” I asked hopeful, brows raised as I got up immediately walking over to her.
“Yeah, but, I think we need to talk first about your...plan” She sighs, causing you to shake your head in confusion at her change in mood.
“What about it? I’m going to give it back, just like we talked.” You confirm, looking at her, then back at Jeremy and Cameron, confused.
“Yeah well, it won’t be as easy as we thought.” You could already tell she was hiding something.
“Why not?” You press on. Suddenly confused as to why her chocolate face turned pale, or her tongue pressed against her cheek as she looked down at the piece of paper still her hand.
“Well the guys you hooked up with happens to be Sebastian Stan.” She sassed, hands on her hips and a brow raised—a posture a mother only a mother would give at her disobedient child. Which made you feel slightly uncomfortable—but the confused laugh that ripped from your throat only caused her to stare harder. By the looks of the two males still in the kitchen—they seemed to know exactly who it was.
“So who the hell is he?” You sigh, throwing yourself on the couch, a head starting to form. You rest you elbows on your knees—staring blankly at the black tv.
“Only the most dangerous man in the whole damn country. Goddamn it Y/n, what the hell where you thinking?”
“I-I don’t know” You couldn’t help but stutter. You were disappointed in yourself, and you could tell that he was too. And there was no worse feeling than the feeling of letting your family down. You felt like a child being scolded. Their eyes piercing into your tensed frame. You could feel the disappointment in Jeremy’s eyes, the shock in Cameron’s, and the sympathy in Camille’s. It was overwhelming, you feel like you just committed the worst crime—or maybe you were just overthinking the whole situation —all of you were. All you had to do was give the money back.
“I’ll fix it” You closed your eyes while taking a deep breathe. “I’ll fix all of this” You confirmed, mostly to yourself. “Just tell me everything you know about the guy-“before you could finish your sentence, the phone in your pocket started to ring, startling you in the process.
“It’s a private number” You whispered once you took the phone out and read the ID caller. You looked at Camille—as if asking permission. But all she gave you was a shrug, brows furrowed in confusion. You took a deep breathe before answering in a rush.
“Hello?”
“I hope you put that money in good use” Came a deep raspy voice. Confusion filled your body, but your mind went back to that in the club—his soft lips against the shell of your ear as he whispered profanity’s in the dirty bathroom. You breathe hitches in your throat, eyes wide in shock.
“Who the hell is it!?” Hissed Cameron, clearly worried.
“What the hell do you want?” You spat as you recomposes yourself. Jeremy seemed to know exactly who it was due to his reaction. It’s like his whole body shut down as he ran his fingers through his hair letting out a breathy fuck.
“Whoa there dragă, not need to get so defensive” His calm voice only seemed to fuel you even more. “That’s no way to speak to the man who sent you very generous gift” He finishes, and you could almost see the smirk on his beautiful face.
“Oh so this is a privilege?” You scoffed. “Well guess what, dipshit, I don’t fucking want it, so both you come and get it or stop hiding behind *67 and tell me where you are. We don’t need your goddamn charity” You finished your rant, anger radiating off you at the nerve of this guy. You felt proud of yourself, but your confidence faded into thin air when you looked at the three people still in your living room who’s faces where drained from color.
“Tsk tsk tsk. You really hate people trying to help, don’t you?”
“I’m not a damsel in distress needing saving, Sebastian”
“Fine, come find me. I’ve been itching to see you again, if I’m being honest.” It was pitiful of you, but you swear you just felt your heart skip a beat at his words.
“How do I do that” You spat, not letting the words affect you the way you knew he wanted them too.
“Looks like your friends got that covered” He says seriously while hanging the phone up.
“He’ll kill you” Jeremy says while shaking his head, walking toward the saris, Cameron following hesitantly behind him.
You sigh I defeat, like your whole body just shut down after the comment.
Here you are, fucking your family over once again.
“This is not a good idea, Y/n. In fact, this is a very, very bad idea.” Camille speaks, eyes focused on the road but you could clearly tell how worried she was by the way her forehead wrinkled as her brows furrowed in worry.
“God, I don’t need this right now. I would’ve brought Jeremy if I wanted a freaking lecture about my shitty choose in decision.” You sigh as run your clammy fingers through your hair.
“And all for what? Because he left you some money? Now that’s some bullshit right there.” She scoffs, obviously ignoring your obvious annoyance at another lecture.
“Yes, Camille. Because he left some money. I mean, who the fuck does he think he is? My knight and shining armor? No, fuck that. Him and his money.” You spat loudly, index finger pointing at the windshield as if he was right there. Noticing your best friend’s eyes softening, you immediately cooled off.
“This is very dangerous. Just, don’t let your temper get the best of you while you’re with him. IF you even get to see him.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be okay.” You smiled softly, reaching out to grab the hand that was firmly gripping onto the steering wheel.
“Plus, he said he told his ‘men’ to escort me in or whatever” You chuckled as you shook your head at the silly thought. Completely missing the flash of worry crossing Camille’s eyes.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” You demanded bravely. The room was dim, you could barely see your surroundings other than the middle, where you were met directly with his back, his very sweaty back. The cries of pain that came from his front caused you to lose your composer, just slightly — enough for you to regain it before he noticed. Sebastian stopped his movement slowly turning around, seemingly confused at the sudden interruption. Blood covered sleeves rolled up to his elbows, knuckles bruised and a half unconscious body lying motionless on a broken chair, face so beaten you could hardly identify the person. Which is what Sebastian was going for.
You were aghast, to say the least. Your eyes winded in shock, gripping your cross body bag (where you kept the money) tightly, your body shaking slightly at what you were witnessing.
A smirked formed on his lips as he watched your frightening state. He was amused at your bravery, hearing you walk in like you owned the place. Cussing at every single man that tried to stop you from walking any further. Of course he knew none of them would hurt you because of his orders. But he liked it. Liked your fierceness. But seeing you shocked with terror made him go somewhat soft on the inside. Wanting to cover your eyes from the brutality that was in front of you as if you were a kid.
“Come, let’s talk outside so you don’t have to see any of this” He coughs out, motioning you to follow. Without question, you did. Not standing the sight of the poor man who laid half dead in a rusty chair, his pleads and cries of terror would surly leave a mark on you.
“Why’d you do that?” You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat roughly, almost sure he heard it. You fought hard against the tears that were threading to spell out, you hated to admit it, but under your tough girl act you were sensitive. And seeing an innocent man (to you at least) lay so helplessly made your head shatter.
“He stole from me” He shrugged. As if it was the most normal think ever. As if he does this once a freaking week, as if he was play miniature golf with his high school friends.
“And who the fuck are you? Pablo Escobar” You replied sarcastically, pulling yourself together, not wanting him to smell your fear. He let out a short laugh, shaking his head while stopping in front of a large door.
Well his laugh made him sound less intimidating. It almost made you forget the sight of him killing a person only seconds ago. Almost.
“Come on in. We’ll talk in here.” He gives an attempt at giving you a small smile, you appreciated it. But then you remembered why you were here in the first place. And whatever you were feeling at the moment was replaced with anger.
“What are you trying to do here, huh? Some charity work? You took pity on me and now you wanna be the good fucking guy and help out? No, fuck that and fuck you. I can handle my own shit and I don’t need a stranger coming to my rescue. I’ve done this my whole life alone and I’ve been fine, we’ve been fine. So you can politely fuck off.” You were out of breathe, you were angry, completely forgetting the fact that he was extremely dangerous. Menacing.
After a long pause, he spoke.
“Did my men treat you right? There wasn’t any hassle?” He furrowed his eyebrows. Clearly changing the subject.
“Don’t you fucking dare” You tilted your head to the side, finger pointing accusingly at him.
“I was just trying to do you a favor.” He sighs, hands up in surrender.
“Well I don’t need your favors. I don’t even know you. Just because you took a lucky guess on how shitty my life is doesn’t mean you know me either.” You went from pointing at the ceiling, to him and then to you. “So here’s your money back. I don’t want it” You spat, hands harshly opening your bag and pulling out the stacks of money. Your hair was all over you face, but you could tell his hands were crossed over his chest. Lips pursed in hilarity.
“Don’t do that.” He sighs as he lays his enormous hands on the stack of money that was placed next to him on his desk, reviewing it. After a few seconds he looks at you, eyes squinting as if he was trying to memorize every detail. He then proceeded to walk toward you slowly, as if taking his time. It made you feel small.
You looked at the ground, once again, swallowing the lump in your throat as you felt his body heat on yours. You were faced to face with his chest, refusing to look up. His breath dancing over your forehead. And it took everything in you not to lean in, even though he wasn’t touching you.
Then you dared speak.
“Where you even telling the truth?” You whispered, the words barely audible. But by the way his breathed hitched in his throat, you knew he heard.
“What do you mean?” He gritted his teeth, staring at you dead in the eyes as pulled away from you, making you whine at the loss of heat. But he didn’t notice, lucky for you. He crossed his arms over his chest. You didn’t even think about your next words, or the consequences that would follow—but you didn’t dare hesitate.
“The night in the club. Your mother. Was she really sick? Or was that some bullshit excuse. Did your dad really leave you and your mother to die? Or was that also part of the plan. Fuck, is your name even Sebastian?” You snickered. Even though the situation was far from funny. The disbelief of the situation you had gotten yourself into was so unbelievable that you couldn’t help it when the noise escaped past your lips. And just like that, he was red. You could practically see the smoke coming from his ears as his eyes changed from a light blue mischief to a dark blue hatred.
“Who the fuck do you think you are, huh?” He yelled, letting his temper got the best of him. You jumped back in surprise, not expecting the outburst at all, but you knew it would happen. “I never lied to you, Y/n. I’d never joke about my mother’s sickness just for a fun story. My father did leave us, he left us for dead. And he paid for it. Just like every single person that was with him.” His breathe was uneven, he clearly had more to say—he was struggling to keep calm and you didn’t know why.
“What did you do, Sebastian? You killed him? Huh, is that was you did? Is that how you solve all your messes?” You raised your voice—edging him on. His outburst caused your own anger to bubble up in you.
“Yes. I fucking killed him, is that what you want to fucking hear, Y/n? I’m a fucking killer, a murderer. I sell drugs and guns. I’m a fucking drug lord. It’s what I fucking do. Don’t you get that?” His face was red due to all the movement he was causing and yelling, the vein on his neck prominent. You finally caught a glimpse of his belt. You froze in fear as you saw the gun that was tucked neatly under his leather belt. All the possibilities of you being killed ran through you mind and the fact that he was confessing to his crimes made it worse. “I kill people, I’ll kill anyone who stands in my fucking way.” His eyes where dark, intimidating. He confessed his dues even though you were already aware. But you didn’t get the answer you quite wanted. You were stepping on dangerous grounds, but you chose to ignore the gun that was tucked away in his belt, in a position where he could swiftly grab it and shoot you dead before you could even scream. But you continued, because you were just like that.
“How’d you kill him?” You spoke softly. His eyes immediately lit up as a sinister smile crept on his lips. And he spoke slowly, as if taking his time in remembering each detail.
“I chopped off each of his limbs off one by one as he watched in horror, not being able to do anything other than scream in agony. Started with his hands, cut off each finger before cutting his whole hand off. He didn't deserve them anyway.” He shrugged as if it was nothing. But it made your skin crawl. “I’d watch him beat my mother countless times, and I was unable to do anything; to defend her. But when I knew the power I had, I did something. Something I dreamt of doing for years. Then, I chopped off his feet. And you know what I did next? I ripped his fucking heart out while he was barely conscious. And I don’t regret a single thing.” He smirks while shaking his head, sinful tongue poking out just slightly out of his now dry mouth. His once perfect hair messed up by all the times his ran his dried bloody hands through it. Face red and sweaty as he calmed down from his outburst. Your brows were furrowed—fist clench tightly as you looked up at him. You somehow knew he was missing details.
Before he could even think of speaking (only adding to you infuriated mood) you jumped on him, legs poorly wrapped around his waist, arms holding onto his broad shoulder and lips smashing into his. Surprisingly, he did not hesitate to kiss you back just as aggressively. You couldn’t help but moan at the taste of his mouth. All you could taste was alcohol, weed and a hint of mint. Normally you’d be repulsed by this, but all you could think about was how amazing his lips felt on yours, how amazing his tasted in your tongue.
You could feel his smirk against your wet lips—and just for a second did you realize what you were doing—how desperate you must look right now. His smirk against your mouth infuriated you, causing you to bite his bottom lip harshly with a moan—causing him to growl animalistic. And god you could come right then and there. Small drops of blood seeping out of the cut your teeth made only made him look even more ravishing. Your tongue darts passed your lips as you took a slow lick over the wound, collecting the little blood that was shown—and wince coming out of him.
The heat in your core intensifying. Your short spell on him quickly vanished as soon as his rough and bloody hands went up to grab your ass giving it a tight squeeze. The moan that slipped out of your mouth only seemed to fuel him. Cautiously, he walked both of you toward his desk, careful not to break the kiss—and careful not make both of you fall. Your lips trailed desperately along his stubbled cheek, sharp jawline and neck, immediately licking a stripe up the vein that was popping out. His eyes closed momentarily, swallowing harshly as he relishes the feeling of your warm, wet mouth worshiping his neck.
Lazily, he cleared the area while dropping you on top. Wasting no time in taking your jeans off—buttons barely off, you were certain he broke them, but his face buried between your breast wouldn’t allow you to think. Once your pants where off, he forcefully opened your legs, causing a loud moan to slip past your lips as you felt your legs stretch deliciously. You could feel him chuckle against your cheek, a hand coming up to squeeze your chin between his finger, while the other didn’t hesitate to harshly slip under your underwear.
Wasting no time in separating your lips with his index and pinky finger to have a better angle to use his middle and ring finger and rubbing your clit harshly. Letting out small whimpers as you desperately bucked your hips into his hand. He moaned as he felt your warm pussy pulsing into his hand. It was heavenly, never had a man been so rough with you, and the fact that this wasn’t just a random man, but a feared mob boss. His dick was hard, fighting against hid dress pants, it was thick, extremely. The mere thought of having it in your mouth made your mouth water and your pussy wetter. This whole situation was dangerous. The hand of killer as buried deep in your underwear and all you could think about was sucking his dick.
“Fuck baby, you’re getting wetter by the second” He groans as dips his middle and ring finger down to your slit, collecting the juices that shameless fell out of you—only to bring his wet fingers back up to your clit, making it easier for him to rub. You couldn’t help but laugh at his words.
“God, i wanna suck your dick so bad” You let the pornographic moan out, causing him to let out a growl—then a snicker. Your face was red in embarrassment at the sudden confession, but you didn’t give a fuck at this point. The hand that was still tightly wrapped around your chin, forcefully pulled you into a kiss. Teeth clashing against each other, tongues exploring each other mouths. It wasn’t even a kiss due to how desperate it was. It was an erotic scene.
“Don’t worry baby, I’ll be sure to put this sassy mouth to good use” He smirked. And if it weren't for your immense attraction to him, and in the current position you were in. You probably would've slapped him. But his words were nothing but hot and provocative.
And in just minutes, you felt your orgasm approaching, just by his fingers. Pathetic. You knew he could sense it just by the way your clit kept pulsing on his fingers.
“Oh, is my baby gonna cum already. Just by my fingers.” He whispered while licking your parted lips. A cockily look on his sweaty face. All you could do was nod pathetically as your head rolled back, brows knitted together and eyes shut tightly.
“Open your fucking eyes.” He growls as he hands harshly grabs your chin once again. This only caused an even louder moan to come from you. It made you 10 time horny at how rough he was being.
“I’m-i th-im about to cum-“ You whined rather loudly, hands that were once gripping his wooden desk reached up to his clothes shoulders, gripping at them desperately. And you felt it, your climax just around the corner. But before your orgasm could wash over you, a loud, obnoxious knock sounded throughout the whole office. His fingers immediately stilled on your beating clit, causing you to lean forward with a cry.
“No!” You couldn’t help but whine. You could feel how tensed and angry Sebastian was at the sudden interruption.
“Come in!” He shouted—making your eyes go wide in shock, and mouth agape. Especially since his hands was still inside your underwear. You tried to move away from him but he held you still, fingers still roughly placed on your sensitive clit.
“Sir we-“The built man stopped abruptly in his track, eyes wide at the sight. Sebastian only turned lightly to get a good look at his face, his face was unreadable, completely emotionless, making the man squirm under his gaze.
You could only imagine what you looked like. Sweaty, hair stuck to your face with euphoric yet embarrassed features. You wrapped your arms around Sebastian’s neck, burying your head in his neck at an attempt to cover yourself from the man. You could feel his smile as he kissed the top of your head. You would’ve thought it was a sweet gesture if his hand wasn’t buried in your underwear. In front of another dangerous man.
“Yes?” Sebastian asked—clearly irritated by the sudden interruption and the lack of information he was giving.
“Um—the-the crates, they’re here, sir” The man coughs, eye everywhere except Sebastian’s eyes, afraid he’d piss him off. And eyes definitely not on you. Knowing the consequences if ever looked at his girl.
“I’ll be right out.” Sebastian says irritably, making the buff man leave quickly.
With a sigh, he softly took his hands out, making you whimper at the loss of contact. His hands were wrinkled due to your juice, but with the cool air, they began to dry. That didn’t stop him from sucking on them as if it were frosty on a cake. You bit your lips at the sight.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t finish you off properly, dragă.” He says sadly. You couldn’t lie, you were disappointed yourself.
“But if you give me a chance, I’d love to take you out to dinner. Then I can fuck you like you deserve.” He ran his tongue across his bruised lip. You couldn’t help but blush at how explicit he was, even when trying to be romantic.
“Hmm. I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it” You shrugged—smiling innocently at him as you hop off his desk. The wetness in your core started drying up, making it uncomfortable to even stand. Sebastian smirked as he nodded his head, leaning against the same spot you were sat on as he watched you pull your pants back up.
“I’m not an easy man to contact, how will I know your answer?” He bit his lips.
“You obviously know where I live and have my number” You teased. Walking back up to him and pulling him down boldly for a much more passionate and slow kiss, completely different from the ones you had moments ago. It felt nice—having his warm lips against yours. One hand draped lazily around your waist while your arm was draped lazily around his neck.
“I’ll see you around.” You whispered breathlessly while slowly dragging your hands from his neck, down to his chest as if to pull him away. Your foreheads still touching, lips caught between your lips. He was so intoxicating, it almost made your head throb. None of you finding the strength to pull away from each other. Weirdly enough, you felt safe in his arms, warm and it just felt right.
“I have to go” You whispered; nodding mostly to yourself — reminding yourself.
“Okay, baby” He nods, yet made no effort in pulling away. So you mustered up all the strength you had in your drained body and pulled away, his hands reaching for yours as he gave you one last kiss. Letting it linger around. And cue the butterflies. You felt like little school girl when her crush finally notices her. But you didn’t care at all.
“I’ll be waiting for that response” He hollers, arms crossed over his chest. Yet again, that infamous smudge look took place on his beautiful face.
“You just have to be patient, Stan” You winked as, not sparing him another glance as you walked out, immediately being met by one of his many bodyguards to escort you out. But not before Sebastian have them a murderous look.
Once out, you ran straight toward the abandoned warehouse where you had left Camille parched just in case something happened. Ready to tell her everything that had happened. The thought of him being a mafia leader far from forgotten.
“You just have to be patient, Stan” You winked as, not sparing him another glance as you walked out, immediately being met by one of his many bodyguards to escort you out. But not before Sebastian gave them a murderous look.
Once out, you ran straight toward the abandoned warehouse where you had left Camille parched just in case something happened. Ready to tell her everything that had happened. The thought of him being a mafia leader long forgotten.
“Hey, Vince” Sebastian calls, phone pressed tightly on the phone, one hand crossed under the arm that held the phone.
“I need you to keep an eye out on Y/n Y/l/n, 24/7. Her and her whole entire family. No- I don’t fucking care. Yes, even the fucking cashier at her local supermarket. Just keep an eye on her. Yeah, she knows too much, we can’t risk it.” He sighs, staring at the spot where you once stood.
#Sebastian Stan#sebastian stan fanfiction#sebastian stan smut#sebastian stan au#sebastian stan imagines#sebastian stan imagine#sebastian stan x you#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan fluff#sebastian stan headcanon#bucky imagine#bucky x reader#bucky x y/n#mob!sebastian#mob!bucky#avengers imagine#marvel imagine
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ULTRAVIOLENCE: MERCY
UV OST: #1 Crush
“It was unnecessary.” Yongguk disapproves from behind the dark wooden desk. “Waste your own bullets in your own goddam time.”
Hanbin just sits there, body tense and high on adrenaline/guilt/whatever, silently screaming for Jiwon to keep his mouth shut and just take the berating their leader is dishing out to them.
But he knows better. He knows his partner.
“He deserved it.” Jiwon spits out venomously, “He had kids packing Ice down by the docks. I put a couple of shots in his head. So what?”
Yongguk raises an eyebrow but never raises his voice, the deep calm timbre of his voice more menacing than any kind of shrill volume.
“That deserves wasting time to execute him does it?”
Jiwon snorts. “Wasn’t an execution. It was mercy.”
Yongguk chuckles for some reason but it’s not because anything is really funny. It just gives Hanbin a headache now, sitting here debriefing about a job that should’ve been discrete, simple, neat but turned out to be loud, messy, complicated and personal.
“Mercy?” Yongguk echoes quietly, as if to test that word out. “That what you’re calling your methods these days?”
“I should’ve let him bleed out. The headshots were a mercy.” The way Jiwon says all this, matter-of-factly, conversationally, with all the remorse of a cold-blooded killer, should set alarms going off in anybody’s head but well, it’d be hypocritical for Hanbin to judge him on his intent.
He’ll judge him on the execution. And his lies.
****
Today’s job was the conclusion of a week-long mission to take out one of the drug manufacturers still operating (unauthorised) on their turf. Hanbin had done some groundwork by getting to know the guy running the operations, who only went by the name PK. Apart from the essential information he’d manage to extract during a particularly drunk night out (he faked it, he never gets drunk on the job), he doesn’t tell Jiwon anything else.
And it would’ve been an easy job if they hadn’t spotted all the homeless kids being abused and then used as free-labour to pack all the boxes for shipping. They thought it’d be easy to convince the kids that they were the lesser evil but turns out, there must’ve been a strong case of stockholm-syndrome because a 12yo pulled out a handgun with shaky hands.
They’d both seen it and the shot went somewhere into the ceiling because that kid looked like he’d never shot a gun in his entire life.
Then all hell broke loose. Kids scatter everywhere, confused shouting from guys they hadn’t seen come or go during the recon-stake outs, gunfire raining from every direction. So much for stealth. So much for discreet.
June and his team get the kids out, Hanbin set the charges and goes to find the head of operations and it’s right at that time he realises that Jiwon, who was meant to be covering him, was already way ahead in the distance, standing over an angry bleeding mess on the ground.
Hanbin should’ve stopped him. Stopped him from killing like this, in this needlessly psychopathic and dissociated way, but he didn’t. Maybe it was shock. Maybe it was.....he doesn’t even know. All the does know is that Jiwon has a particularly vicious brand of justice he reserves for those who abuse kids and those who take what’s his.
He always knew this would end up messy.
“You deal with kids now huh?”
“Fuck you.”
There’s a muted crunch that Hanbin recognises as Jiwon’s boot stomping on a rib cage. It’s always followed by a breathless groan.
“Oh I will.”
They all know to expect a lot of things about each other by now, like how Jiwon prefers fists and knives to guns, but since the Accident, things have been violently unpredictable and that even though the crew talk about it hushed tones, it terrifies the shit out of Hanbin.
He doesn’t expect to see Jiwon pulling the gun out of his thigh holster. The silencer muffles two quick shots into each kneecap.
Too bad there’s no silencer for the screams. They should’ve gagged this idiot before he calls out to the calvary.
It doesn’t stop there. There’s another quiet shot into a shoulder that’s followed by an even louder scream.
When Hanbin finally comes to stand next to him and brushes against his shoulder, Jiwon barely moves his eyes and his gun from the bloodied pulp on the ground. PK looks up and even with the black mask covering the bottom half of his face, recognises him straight away and for a split second, Hanbin thinks how it’s a bit of a shame that such a smart guy like PK ended up in this line of work.
“Hey, pretty-boy, you owe me...a date.” There’s a wet wheezy cough and even through all the blood, Hanbin can see the twisted leering smirk.
“What’s he talkin’ about?” Jiwon asks in a cold voice.
“Nothing. Doesn’t matter. We’re done here. Leave him, I’ve got the chargers lit.”
But Jiwon doesn’t leave it. Neither does PK.
In some other world, in some other situation, Hanbin might’ve rolled his eyes at this obvious pissing-contest between the two of them for his honour but right now, he just feels the nausea in his gut. Not because of the violence or the blood, he’s used to those things by now, but the way Jiwon gets so caught up in revenge that nothing is going to snap him out of it.
“Ohhhhh,” PK starts, reading something on Jiwon’s face and then seemingly enjoying all this despite his predicament. “You think you’re the only one....who knows what his mouth.... feels like? You’re not-ARGH, motherfucker!”
PK slumps on the left as a shot pierces through his collarbone. There’s a groan but they also hear the quiet laughter of a madman who knows his time is up but will make everything hurt on the way down. There’s really no honour amongst thieves.
“I want...you to know that... I got to him too. Remember that next time you fuck him-”
The headshot is so fast Hanbin almost didn’t see it coming. It’s followed by two more.
Just in case.
Then another.
June’s clipped tones cuts through his earpiece, telling them the kids are all out and all the charges are in place. It’s only his training that gets Hanbin jolted from this haze.
“B. Let’s go. We’re done here.” He orders. He’s still running Alpha on this job, they still follow his plan but Jiwon’s never really been just another subordinate. He’s never been just a team member. He’s always been some other dangerous category.
Jiwon is stuck in his bloodlust: his eyes dead and black, his mind tunnel-visioned with a singular focus, his body nothing but an obedient and deadly machine. Hanbin places a firm hand on his shoulder and feels it reacting sharply, like it stings.
“Let’s go. That’s an order.”
Jiwon doesn’t move.
June is still shouting in his earpiece so he presses the comms to send back a message.
“Got it, get Gamma squad out. We’re coming.”
Hanbin knows June’s still in the middle of saying something but he quickly cuts off the comms and goes to disable Jiwon’s as well. The action does nothing to move the bigger man, who is still has his finger on the gun as he stares at PK’s dead body.
Jesus. It’s going to be one of those nights.
Hanbin sighs inwardly, coming to stand between Jiwon and the dead body. He pulls off their face masks and reaches up to holds Jiwon’s face in his hands, forcing his vision from the ground.
“Hey? Baby?”
Baby.
It usually works.
It’s a trigger word if anything and Hanbin knows he shouldn’t use it like this, shouldn’t abuse his own power like this, but desperate times call for desperate measures and this is a fucking desperate time.
“Baby....look at me.”
Silent seconds tick by but eventually Jiwon slowly looks up and his eyes tract across Hanbin’s face, reading something, searching for something, before the vision clears, he leaves his bloodlust behind and pushes the hands away from his face.
The kiss isn’t really a kiss. Jiwon grabs Hanbin’s neck roughly and smashes their mouths together so violently that there’s a dull ache of teeth hitting teeth. Just as Hanbin gets sucked into Jiwon’s heat, he’s released and pushed away.
“Let’s go.”
They blow the charges on the warehouse. An anonymous tip gets the kids sent to the local police station to be dealt with and re-homed hopefully. Hanbin knows most of them will end up back on the streets within the year. It’s the circle of fucking life around here.
Jiwon says nothing the entire ride back to HQ. He says nothing when they surrender their weapons to the armory. Says nothing when Soo questions the empty magazine in the guns. Says nothing when Donghyuk asks if they need any injuries checked out. Says nothing when he goes to shower off the blood and shove his dirty tact-gear into the incinerator. Says nothing when they’re in debrief.
It’s not part of his job anyway. Hanbin runs Alpha team and it’s his responsibility to give the reports. Yongguk’s always been a good leader to them and trusts them enough to run their team as they see fit but he does have his limits and has never stood for unnecessary and wasteful personal vendettas. This is a business and businesses should never be personal.
And that’s when Jiwon says something.
****
“Gamma said you stalled. Why?”
They’re sitting in Yongguk’s office, facing him from behind the large dark desk. The cup of tea sends soft wisps of steam into the air and for a few tense seconds, it’s the only thing that moves in the room.
Hanbin takes a breath to speak but Yongguk holds up his hand to silence him.
“No. I want to hear it from you.”
It’s directed at Jiwon, who shifts in his chair, before shrugging.
“You wanted the operation shut down. We did it. That PK asshole is dead. How is this a problem?”
Yongguk hard stare bores into Jiwon’s face and maybe there’s a brief second of defiance before Jiwon backs down.
“You didn’t answer my question. You stalled, why? Gamma were out, the charges were set, you planning on staying inside the building to get blown up? Was that the plan too?”
Jiwon looks away but Hanbin can tell from the way his knuckles grip the arm rest that he’s livid on the inside. That body nothing more than something to contain his rage.
Please don’t have an episode here. Not tonight.
“I wanted him dead. I took my time. He deserved it.”
Yongguk sits back in his chair and takes a sip of the tea. “You make it personal?”
“No.”
“I can tell when you’re lying you know.” Yongguk smiles, a rare thing in itself. “You think you can act without me knowing? You think I’m not already two steps in front of you? You forget who took you in? Taught you?”
Jiwon hangs his head now. Out of shame or tiredness or just trying to calm his thoughts down. Or maybe all the above.
“I know how you think. I know how you act.” Yongguk continues, resting the tea cup on the desk gently. “I’m taking you off Alpha for a month.”
“WHAT?!”
Jiwon whips his head back up to protest, words dying when Yongguk shakes his head that he doesn’t want to hear it.
“That’s final. Hanbin will still run Alpha, we’re sending June over to run point.”
“What about me?” Jiwon asks, sounding for once, like a how normal 23 year old should. “What am I doing?”
“You’re back on wheels.”
“What?!”
Yongguk gets up then, a signal that this meeting is over. Hanbin rises from his chair, bones aching from the entire week, and watches as Jiwon stays seated, glaring at Yongguk.
Come on, don’t have an episode now. Please.
“Jiwon.” Hanbin says, voice both an order and a plea.
The hand on Jiwon’s shoulder is warm and firm. It reminds him of something, grounds him back to something, something good and safe. But this entire week was turning out to be a nightmare so what is the point of something good and safe anyway?
Jiwon shakes the hand off his shoulder, curses under his breath and stalks out of room without looking any of them. Hanbin watches him leave. The guilt setting in like a slow stain.
“You sure you want this? A whole month?”
Hanbin looks across at Yongguk and nods. “I can’t have him out there right now. He’s gonna get me, him and the entire team killed.”
“Hate to think what he’d do if he knew you asked for this.”
“Blame it on you as usual.” Hanbin says with a smirk. “You act like you disagree.”
Yongguk chuckles and punches Hanbin lightly on the arm. “Go. Sleep. New assignment in 2 days.”
****
Jiwon gives him the silent treatment, just grabs a pillow from the bed and walks back out into the living room to sleep on the couch. Hanbin wants to roll his eyes from the melodramatics because it’s not like all of them haven’t been benched for other reasons too, but he knows this is something else.
Jiwon’s not injured. Nothing is broken except for his mind.
“Hey? It’s cold out here, come back to bed?”
“No.”
On most days, Hanbin would just leave this alone and let Jiwon work out whatever chaos he has running through his head but that was before the Accident. These days, he hates how responsible he feels for everything going in Jiwon’s life. Hates how it feels like neither of them have control of it.
“Come on. I can’t sleep properly without you there.”
There’s a scoff that he can hear, even through the pillow. “You don’t have a problem fucking other people to get what you want so why don’t you just find someone else to sleep with you?”
Jesus. This again.
“I didn’t fuck him.”
“He said you did.”
“I wanted information. I didn’t fuck him. I barely kissed him. He was talking shit.” Hanbin says with a weary sigh. “We talked about this. You know this is what I need to do sometimes. It doesn’t mean anything.”
There’s a hand that rests on Jiwon’s leg but he shrinks away from it, curling into himself under the blanket.
“Don’t fucking touch me.”
Hanbin growls in frustration despite himself. A week’s worth of sleep deprivation wears down his patience and softness. He tries but he’s running on empty.
“What do you want me to say?” He asks Jiwon’s turned back. “You act like you don’t do the same thing if it helps the job. I’ve seen you do it. How is that different?”
Jiwon turns over with irritated rage etched all over his face. “I don’t want them to touch you like that! Just shoot them! Why do you have to let them touch you like that?”
Hanbin isn’t even surprised by the outburst. He’s heard 100 times already. The Accident made Jiwon’s possessiveness worse, even when there’s never been any reason for it.
“It doesn’t mean anything. I can wash them off.” Hanbin says softly now, sinking down onto the floor and resting his head on the couch next to Jiwon’s.
“You remember any of it?”
“No.”
“You enjoy any of it?”
“No.”
“I hate it. It’s fucked up.”
“I know, baby.” Hanbin reaches out to run his fingers through Jiwon’s faded brown hair and counts it as a victory when his eyes close with a sigh. “Come back to bed with me?”
It’s easier after that. Some nights are like this. Hanbin hates how messed up they are, like prisoners of Jiwon’s erratic mind, but he can’t hate the reassuring warm weight of Jiwon’s body on top of his as they fuck slowly in the middle of the night.
He can’t hate how Jiwon looks right into his eyes as he thrusts hard and deep, can’t hate how full he feels, can’t hate how Jiwon bites his neck like he’s claiming him forever.
Can’t hate being claimed. Because that’s what he is.
#Ultraviolence#listen to the song first#it's important#i felt like writing something like this today#it belongs to UV#somewhere#it doesn't follow any order#can be read as a stand alone#so many typos oops#i don't have a beta#i should get one#lol
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i got u: one.
i. gap
Fearne Phillips was a bitch.
That’s what the guy who hit on her last Christmas at a sweets shop in Surrey said when she wouldn’t give him her number.
That’s what Simon Elliott cried when she broke his arm for calling her best friend fat.
That’s what the media thought when she refused to speak about why her relationship with Louis Tomlinson had ended.
That’s what Jessica from Teen Scene Magazine was currently thinking when she refused to give young girls tips on how to seduce men.
Fearne Phillips was one of a kind. She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. If she was uncomfortable, she was going to let you know. Most people called her reckless for it. Others called her iconic. She didn’t see herself as either of those things.
She saw herself as one thing: tired. Tired of having to be perfect. Tired of having to be prim and proper. Tired of being told what the projected sales and media trends would be if she acted a certain way. She just wanted to be Fearne.
She wouldn’t get to be that for another month. She had a few more festivals to get through before she had an entire year off. She couldn’t believe it.
Fearne had signed a record deal at eighteen and essentially grew up in the spotlight. They saw her through the good, the bad, and the ugly. That decade of stardom had its ups and downs. The worst of it was five years ago when things started to go south with the love of her life.
Sometimes things don’t always work out according to plan. That job at that high profile modeling agency is less about fashion and more about having the ability to memorize multiple coffee orders. That asymmetrical bob that looked adorable on the girl on the train somehow got turned into a shaggy looking bowl cut. That attractive guy from accounting who said he was actually going to call doesn’t end up calling.
Long distance relationships are one of those things that don’t always work out as they should. Three little words are whispered through telephone lines instead of being said face to face. Beds are shared with computer screens instead of warm bodies. Feelings of contentment are replaced by worry and doubt.
Relationships become plagued with catastrophic fights about minuscule things. Calls start to get shorter and text messages begin to stop. That feeling of love once shared starts to dwindle down to nothing.
A type of exhaustion sets in that never can be satisfied. It doesn’t go away with a weekend in bed or trip back home. It settles. It latches onto every fiber and festers until it’s too late. The mind, body, and soul become infected and a monster is created. Once it’s released, there is no hope for humanity.
Fearne Phillips and Louis Tomlinson knew that monster too well. It’s what started to transform after four long years of a relationship on the road. She was never home and he could never get away. The lack of affection and time spent together took its toll on the young couple. Before they knew it, it was over.
It didn’t just end though. It blew up. It was plastered over every tabloid magazine in the country. It was broadcasted on the morning news. It was all over the Internet for her to relive day in and day out.
That first year was the hardest. She lost herself completely. She broke his heart and she could never forgive herself for it. Why? Because Louis Tomlinson was the greatest man she had ever met and he didn’t deserve what she put him through. He deserved better and always would.
As time moved on, the only things she could rely on to keep her from falling apart again were her friends and her job. Her soul sister, Samantha Jane, fought off any man who tried to get close to her while her manager, Declan, did his best to keep her focused on her music. Her older brother, Archie, was just along for the ride. When the going got tough, he stepped in and nursed his baby sister back to health. She didn’t know what she’d do without them.
Every year, she found a way to repay them for putting up with her. This year she managed to get them VIP passes to a handful of festivals throughout the UK. They were currently attending the Glastonbury Festival. Well, Samantha Jane and Archie were attending the festival. Fearne was on the clock. She had been tucked away in an oversized tent answering the same five questions for various media publications. She wouldn’t get to join them until after her set.
Declan did his best to keep her happy but she wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone else. She needed a recharge. The last one did her head in.
“I’m not doin’ another one.” Fearne looked over at the bearded man beside her. “I’m done.”
“I’m takin’ care of it,” Declan said — thumbs flying as he typed away on his phone. “Got her editor’s number. She’s a friend of Jimmy.”
“That was just bull shit.” She said. “I didn’t overreact, did I?”
“Shite reporting.” Declan glances up. “If you were a twenty-eight-year-old lad, you’d be labeled a legend... absolutely killing it.”
“Right?” Fearne ran her hands over her face. “Made me come off as a proper slag. I don’t even know any of those men. Would you want your niece to read an article where her favorite celebrity tells her how to sleep around with men? I know I wouldn’t.”
“I’ll take care of it, Fearnie. Don’t worry pet.” Declan winked. “Now head toward the end of the tent.”
“I’m not doing another interview.” She sighed looking up at him. “I will punch someone.”
“It’s with Radio 1,” Declan explained. “Probably with Scott who you haven’t seen in ages. He won’t do anything to harm ya.”
Fearne thought about it for a moment. “ I do like Scott.”
“And you won’t punch him because he’s a good man. You’ll be fine.” Declan said urging her to start walking.
“I just want to clarify that I wouldn’t be upset if she hadn’t been so rude. Young women should know how to navigate the dating world but they shouldn’t be treated as if their only important role in life is to be a side piece for a man.”
“Yeah, yeah all that feminist shite,” Declan mumbled dryly.
Fearne shoved him playfully. “Fuck right off, Declan Jay.”
“Easy there, Pip Squeak.” He said stabilizing himself.
“I just don’t like people who make female celebrities out to be tarts because they’ve got male friends. I’m more than that.” She sighed.
“You do know you don’t need the validation of some teenage tabloid, right? You’re Fearne motherfucking Phillips.” Declan said with a cheesy grin. “The girl who nearly got kicked of secondary school for getting her nose pierced. The girl who sold out the O2 four nights in a row during her first arena tour. The girl who outlasted every single guy on Lads on Tour last summer.”
He continued, “Lionesses like you shouldn’t worry about sheep like her.”
Fearne opened her mouth to say something but decided to walk away instead. Sometimes that man knew exactly what to say to help her refocus. She decided to give him what he wanted. She made her way towards the northern end of the tent to a table dedicated to the BBC’s finest radio station. Declan started to ramble on about how lovely women were in hopes of making her feel better. He didn’t need to say anything but she appreciated that he had.
“Fuck.”
Declan stopped abruptly leaving the woman standing beside him confused. Without saying another word, the six-foot-tall man wedged his body between her and their destination.
“What the fuck, Deco?” Fearne asked.
“Mental health check.” He said crossing his arms over his chest. “0-10, how we doin?”
“I’m fine.” She said not understanding his sudden change in mood.
“That’s not a number.” Declan sighed.
“Why? What’d you see?” Fearne asked attempting to look over his shoulder.
“Just want to make sure me girl is fine after that last one,” Declan explained. “Have you calmed down a bit?”
“Oh, I’m still annoyed but —“ Fearne said standing on the tips of her toes trying to look over his shoulder.
“Need a number Fearnie.” He said calmly.
“Bout a six.” She said knowing that anything lower would set off the alarm bells.
“Good.” He nodded before handing over her phone. “Text Arch and SJ bout what they’re up to now, yeah?”
Fearne smiled swiping her cell phone from his hand.
“Promise you’re gonna stay at a six no matter what happens?” Declan asked.
“I’ll try me best,” Fearne said, eyes glued to her phone. “Don’t know what you’re so worried about Deco.”
“Horan’s here,” Declan said relaxing a bit.
“When is he ever not here? He loves this festival.” Fearne said smirking at something her best friend had sent. “Where’d ya see him?”
Declan nodded behind him. “At the Booth.”
Fearne looked up. “He is the most efficient producer at the BBC so that makes sense.”
“You’re going to have to speak to him,” Declan said. “Still gonna be a six?”
“Niall Horan is a ray of sunshine,” Fearne said still not getting what the big deal was. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I promise.”
“Fearnie, I need you to —“ Declan started to say.
“Give me five more minutes with Samantha Jane and I’ll do whatever you want. Okay? You go check in or whatever it is you do and I’ll be your perfect pop star.” She said with a weak smile.
Declan didn’t respond. He turned around and headed toward the makeshift radio studio. He was on edge. Niall Horan was a legend. He always brought the party wherever he went. He also was the sole producer of the show Fearne’s ex-boyfriend hosted. The two were rarely seen without each other — especially during festival season.
Before he had a chance to scope out who was working, a firm hand latched onto Declan’s shoulder. He turned around to find a dark-haired Irishman smiling back at him.
“Well look who the fuck it is.” Niall’s thick Irish accent called out.
“Are you ever not working?” Declan joked as he pulled his old friend into a hug.
“You should know I’d never miss out on the Bury, Deco,” Niall said with a laugh.
The two friends briefly caught up as arrangements were made for the interview. Stories about touring and family members were shared between the men. The reason they were connected was carefully being avoided. Declan knew he needed to bring it up but was worried about the answer.
“So um, is he here?” Declan said in a low voice.
“Yeah but he’s not doing the interview. I uh made sure of it. It’s Matt.” Niall said softly. “How’s she doing?”
“Just came out of a rough one so I need something to cheer her up,” Declan said glancing over at Fearne.
“The lads went to the loo so it’ll be a bit but we’ll take care of our girl.” Niall smiled. “Don’t worry.”
“Thanks, Ni.” Declan nodded.
“Just looking out for both of ‘em,” Niall said.
“Fearne,” Declan called out.
Fearne looked up from her phone and found two sets of eyes watching her closely. She put a brave face on and headed towards them. One more interview to go and she’d be free. One more interview with her ex-boyfriend’s best friend and she’d be free. She could do it. She knew she could.
“Fearne Phillips, who’d ya sell your soul to because you haven’t aged a day, love,” Niall said with a smirk.
“If I told ya, I’d have to kill ya,” Fearne said stepping into his warm embrace.
“I can’t believe this motherfucker is still your minder. Would have ditched him ages ago.” Niall said as he squeezed her tight.
“Ehh, I’ve grown quite fond of him,” Fearne said with a smile. “Lets me do whatever I want.”
“Oh, I believe that.” He smiled.
Fearne stepped back, “I like the hair change. Suits you.”
“Makes me more distinguished,” Niall said before leaning in close. “All the birds are into it.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “Haven’t changed a bit, Ni.”
“I have to get shit ready so why don’t you take a seat on the ol’ sofa and I’ll let you know when we’re all queued up.” He said with a wink.
Fearne looked over to find a lumpy old couch with two teal pillows sitting across from a makeshift soundboard. Heat rushed to her cheeks. She had some very fond memories from a couch that looked almost identical to the one staring back at her.
“Ni is this —-“ Fearne started to ask.
“Fuck no.” Niall cackled. “We got rid of it after um that.”
“Oh… well, it wasn’t that comfortable anyways.” She said shyly.
“He begs to differ,” Niall said with a smirk.
“How’s he doing?” Fearne asked — surprised at the words that had just come out. She didn’t know whether she was being polite or if she genuinely cared. She hadn’t thought about him in a while.
Declan and Niall looked just as surprised as she did.
“Still the same pain in the ass we know and love,” Niall said with a small smile.
“I wouldn’t expect anything else.” She smiled going back to the messages on her phone. She needed to prevent herself from saying anything else unexpected.
Fearne Phillips hadn’t thought about Louis in about a year. She’d see his face when certain songs would come on the radio. She’d hear his laugh when certain jokes were told. But she hadn’t seriously thought about the man she had loved in quite some time. She did wonder how he was but never intended on asking about him. She wasn’t the type to fawn over exes. After the breakup, she would move on as quickly as she could. Louis was different though. He was her best friend.
Seeing Niall was a great reminder of those days.
She was in the middle of explaining what had happened to her brother and best friend when she noticed a group form at the table across from her. Hushed voices were talking quickly. Something was wrong but she wasn’t going to let it get to her. She promised Declan she would stay at a six and that was one promise she couldn’t afford to break.
Her phone started to blow up as her two favorite people started weighing in on the situation at hand. She knew she could count on them to keep her distracted and that’s exactly what they did.
“Now then, let’s get this show on the road, Phillips.” A voice called out pulling her away from the conversation on her phone.
As she looked up, she couldn’t believe her eyes. Standing in front of her in a pair of muddy wellies was a man she hadn’t spoken to in ages. A man she dedicated two entire albums and an endless amount of notebooks to. A man whose face was now covered in facial hair and laughter lines. A man she had truly missed.
“Tommo,” She beamed taking her in ex-boyfriend’s appearance. “What the fuck are you wearin’ mate?”
“What?” The young man asked looking down at his outfit. “I look goddamn sexy, Phillips.”
Fearne shook her head standing up. “Look like you should be helping me nan with her back garden.”
“Oh fuck you.” Louis chuckled before pulling her into his arms for a hug. Her body effortlessly molded into the places that used to be called home. Everyone around them stood with bated breath unsure of how this interaction was going to turn out.
“Are you giving the interview then?” Fearne asked forcing herself to let go of his body.
Louis fought through a fake smile. “Unfortunately.”
Her hazel eyes lit up. “This is going to be brilliant.”
Something about the way she spoke caught Louis’ attention. She seemed tired and on edge. It had been a while but that man knew her better than anyone else. His eyes scanned her face for answers but fell short.
“Whatcha lookin’ at punk?” She said narrowing her eyes at him playfully.
He shook his head before stepping in close, “Y’alright?”
“I’m fab Lou.” She faked a smile. He didn’t buy it. Before he could dig a little deeper, papers were shoved in his face as a camera was slowly being set up.
Work was to be done.
Louis slid into the spot beside her on the couch. He rested his elbows on the tops of his legs as he studied the list of questions he was supposed to be asking. Fearne studied his face. She almost couldn’t believe it. His boyish features were no longer present. A week’s worth of stubble and some late nights in the studio had left him looking much older.
As he looked up to ask Niall a question, Fearne got a glimpse of his baby blue eyes. They were just as warm and inviting as they used to be but something was a bit off. She knew the look in his eyes all too well. It was the same look he had when he met her dad for the first time. It was the look he had on their first weekend away together. It was the same look he had the night he told her he loved her.
Despite his efforts to try to play it cool, there was no denying he was nervous.
Hoping to remedy the situation, Fearne nudged his leg gently with her own. His eyes left the commotion surrounding them and focused on her.
“See anyone play yet?” She asked with an inviting smile.
He knew what she was trying to do. He appreciated it. A wave of nerves had hit him when Matt said he couldn’t do the interview. He didn’t think he could do it either.
Fearne Phillips wasn’t just another musician at a festival that he needed to interview. She was his greatest love story. Every memory from his twenties had her in it. He didn’t need to fall in love ever again because nothing could compare to the time he spent with her.
Once they split, those memories were too much to handle. Her music disappeared from his show. Her albums sat on his shelf unopened. He couldn’t bring himself to be around things that reminded him of her. He wasn’t strong enough.
Seeing her after all this time was unlike anything he had ever imagined. His pulse began to race, butterflies took flight, and every day spent missing her seemed worth it.
“I went with Fiona and Jack to see Cage earlier and I saw a bit of Cold War Kids but that’s it.” He said putting on a fake smile. “What about you?”
“I’ve been stuck in here all morning.” She said sounding disappointed. “Probably won’t see anyone until after I get off stage.”
“You need to fire that minder of yours,” Louis said glancing over at Declan. “He’s overworking you.”
“Tell me about it.” She sighed.
“You sure you’re okay?” He said in a low voice.
Fearne raised an eyebrow. “Are you?”
“S’been a bit. Just nerves.” He grinned shyly.
“It’s just me, Lou,” Fearne said.
“Yeah, multi-platinum award-winning international superstar Fearne Phillips,” Louis said glancing down at his sheet of paper.
“Oh, you mean the same Fearne Phillips who can’t figure out how to build a fucking bookcase.” She said with a smirk.
His face lit up. “You still have it?”
“All me books are in piles on the floor. Samantha Jane nearly wrecks them every time she’s drunk.” Fearne admitted shyly. “The wood bits are under my bed. I’m convinced they didn’t put all the pieces in the box as a ploy to get me to buy another one.”
Louis bit back a smile. Three weeks after they met, Fearne bought a bookcase for the flat she shared with Samantha Jane. The girls were on an independence kick. They wanted to prove they could do things on their own. Samantha Jane orchestrated the completion of a bathroom remodel while Fearne focused on furniture. She got everything done but the bookcase.
One Friday night, he attempted to ask her out on a proper date but she asked if he wanted to come over instead. She rambled on about their new flat and her struggles with the furniture and how she couldn’t let her brother know she needed help. Without a second thought, Louis picked up a pizza and made his way over to help.
Things had been going well. He was already smitten and it hadn’t been that long. When they were almost finished, Louis realized he needed to figure out a way to continue seeing Fearne. Thinking on his feet, he slipped a piece of hardware into his pocket when she had left to get another beer from the kitchen. If it was missing, she couldn’t finish the job. If she couldn’t finish the job, he figured she’d be in need of his help once more.
Five years and one hell of a ride later, that piece of hardware was still buried in the drawer of his bedside table.
“Why not throw it out?” Louis asked genuinely curious as to why she kept it. He had asked himself the same question plenty of times. There was never a good enough reason to do so.
Fearne just shrugged. “Stubborn, I guess.”
“Fuckin’ Northerners.” He shook his head.
“They’re the worst.” She smiled. “Right?”
Louis laughed. “The fucking worst. All about their footie and Oasis.”
Her eyes lit up causing a smirk to form on his face. “You shut your bastard mouth, Tomlinson.”
“Oi love birds, we’ve got bad news.” Niall interrupted. “The camera isn’t working so it’s only audio.”
“Not a problem,” Fearne replied. “No one really needs to see my manky ol’ wellies anyways.”
“What she really means is her manky ol’ mug.” Louis popped off playfully.
Fearne glared at the man sitting across from her. “Like you should be talking, garden gnome.”
His mouth hung open in shock as she giggled to herself. Before he could defend his wardrobe choice, he was forced to get the interview started. He shot her a glare before clearing his throat and testing the microphone.
“Testing, testing. Tommo’s about to interview the biggest brat at Glastonbury.” He enunciated.
“How very dare you.” Fearne glared making the boys around her laugh.
Getting the all clear from Niall, Louis cleared his throat and went into interviewer mode.
“We are at the Glastonbury Festival with the ever so lovely Fearne Phillips,” Louis said as his crew cheered.
“Oi oi,” Fearne replied with a genuine smile on her face.
“You’ve got to talk into the microphone, love.” Louis teased. “S’not like you been doin’ this all morning.”
Her face lit up at his jesting. A playful glare and bare middle finger made their way into the interview.
“Anyways, y’alright Fearnie?” He asked with a smile.
“Doin’ just fine Lou.” She replied with a nod. “You?”
“Couldn’t be better.” He blushed. “How’s the festival been treatin’ ya so far?”
“So far so good. Nothing beats festival season if you ask me.”
“I hear that.” He laughed. “This year’s lineup is pretty ace and I’m told that’s why it sold out in a matter of minutes. Anyone you’re looking forward to seeing?”
“The highlights so far have definitely been The Wombats and Wiley.” She said adjusting the microphone in her hand. “Today will probably be The Kooks if I can make it happen.”
His eyes locked with hers. That was their band. The first band they saw together. The band that constantly crept in and out of their relationship. They couldn’t listen to a song without thinking of each other.
“Think they’re gonna pay ‘Gap’?” He asked with a smirk.
Fearne rolled her eyes. Every single time they saw The Kooks play, Louis made a bet on whether or not they’d play his favorite song. The reward always changed but his side never did. Unfortunately, he was always wrong.
“Mate, come off it. You’re never gonna hear ‘em play ‘Gap’ live.” She said with a grin. “Just not meant to be.”
“I think it’ll happen. So, what’s on the setlist for you today? Anything off the new album? Or are we sticking to the classics?” He said smoothly navigating the conservation in another direction.
“Um, well it’s a bit of both. A few oldies might make their way back on stage. A lot from the album we just toured with.” She said trying to picture the list of songs she had decided on. “I actually have a brand new song that I was hoping to test out.”
“Oh my days, you heard it here folks. Everyone at Glastonbury is going to get a Fearne Phillips exclusive.” He teased. “Is this the first time it’s going to be heard by virgin ears?”
“I mean my brother has heard it at least twenty times so…”
Louis couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t think he’ll appreciate that one. Arch, I’ll make sure Ni edits that out for ya, mate.”
“I’ve had to endure his obnoxious snoring for the past three days. He can handle some teasing — it’s the least he could do.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a minute. Arch is here?” He asked sounding surprised.
Fearne shook her head, “I should not have told you that.”
Louis’ eyes crinkled as a knowing smile took form. The bromance that had formed between him and Fearne’s brother was unlike any other. Whenever they were together chaos ensued. They had tried to keep in touch after the break-up but it was too difficult.
“Um, I think it’s time to wrap this up, Fearnie. Another Phillips needs to my attention.” Louis said with a playful wink.
“He’ll be going on about that for weeks.” Fearne laughed.
“Good.” He grinned. “We all know you are a veteran of the festival. What are some tips and tricks you’ve learned through the years that some of us more novice attendees should know?”
“I’m amused that you consider yourself a novice, but um make sure you stay hydrated throughout the day. Come with a group you won’t get angry with after five minutes of being with them.” Fearne said trying to think of advice she’d want to hear. “Keep a list of set times and emergency contacts accessible at all times.”
Louis opened his mouth but she quickly cut him off.
“Oh, and don’t take an open bevvy from anyone you don’t know!” She rattled off quickly.
His eyes crinkled as he bit back a smile. She hadn’t changed a bit. Before he could tease her for her maternal instincts, a hand signal was given meaning he needed to move a little quicker. He started asking questions sent in by fans. Before the pair of exes knew it, the interview was over.
“That’s a wrap,” Niall said leaning over the portable soundboard. “Well done.”
“What’s next for you?” Louis asked as a couple of interns started to gather up the microphones.
“More bull shit.” She mumbled leaning forward. “That I really don’t want to do.”
“Why haven’t you fired him?” Louis said his voice low and concerned. “He always does this to you.”
“He’s been me best mate for ages. It’s not all his fault. The team expects the moon.”
Louis shook his head. She really hadn’t changed. She was still the same girl who worked too hard for people who could care less. She was constantly being thrown in a thousand directions and never got a chance to take a break.
“Interview before you wanted me to give teenage girls advice on how to pick up men.” She said sounding glum. “Said nothing about my foundation or charity work. Nothing about how my profits for the last two tours went to music education and girls’ clubs throughout the UK.”
She turned towards him. “You were photographed with this man, this man, and this man. How’d you get them in the sack, Fearne? Give our readers a tutorial on how to lure babes in.”
“I’m fucking tired, Tommo.” She sighed. “Same ol’ shit.”
The exhaustion in her voice ripped him apart.
He reached over to comfort her but stopped halfway. He didn’t know if he should. That wasn’t his job anymore. He wasn’t her protector or confidante. He was the one who threw in the towel when things got rough. He was the one who left her in a hotel room in New York because he couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t be in a relationship with an empty bed relying heavily on FaceTime calls and red-eye flights.
He couldn’t be the man she needed and that killed him.
Louis knew he needed to say something though. The look on her face was a look he had seen on more than one occasion. He knew she needed to know that someone was in her corner — that someone was proud of her. However, he didn’t know how much merit he held when it came to Fearne Phillips Fan Club.
He opened his mouth to say something but Declan snagged her attention away. He rambled on about potentially squeezing one more interview in. Fearne tried to argue but her manager wasn’t having it. It’s what the team wanted. His phone started to ring putting a pause in the conversation.
“Have you eaten?” Louis asked pulling her attention away from the situation that was taking place.
She shook her head. “I’m supposed to meet up with SJ and Arch after this.”
“Don’t let him make you do anything else without eating.” He said softly. “The mini shepherd's pies at the booth by the toilets are just like the ones back home. I highly recommend them.”
“I really just want chips. Do they have them?” She asked sounding hopeful.
“Yeah pretty decent too —especially with a pint.”
“Can’t have one of those yet. Still on duty.” Fearne groaned.
“Same here.” Louis smiled.
“What’s on the books for the rest of the day?” She asked trying to take the attention off her.
“A few more interviews and then just chillin’.” He said making her smile.
“You seriously have the life, mate,” Fearne said.
“Best job in the world.” He winked.
“Tell me about it.” She said with a grin.
“What times your set today?” He asked cautiously.
“Five,” Fearne said mid-yawn. “Or so I’m told.”
“Excited for it?” Louis asked.
“Are you always in interview mode?” Niall asked walking by. “Give the girl a break.”
“Yeah, give the girl a break.” Fearne laughed leaning back against the couch.
“Fuck off.” Louis blushed. “Both of ya.”
The pair of adults sat quietly for a few moments watching people work around them. Declan stood off to the side with his phone pressed to his ear. Niall was glued to his laptop trying to fix some kind of recording issue.
“Arch is going to be so happy to see you,” Fearne said.
“Missed that man,” Louis said turning towards her.
Fearne yawned again. “Think Deco will notice if I slip away for a quick snooze?”
“Ehh I’d give him about fifteen minutes before he actually notices,” Louis said leaning against the back of the couch. “I’ll create a diversion for you.”
“You’re the real MVP, Lou.” Fearne smiled.
“Kooks are on at seven, yeah?” He asked with a yawn.
“Uh, I think so.” She yawned back before closing her eyes.
“You really don’t think they are gonna play ‘Gap’?” Louis asked watching her face. She was even more gorgeous than he remembered.
“When have they ever?” She replied.
He scanned her face once more before responding, “You never know anything could happen.”
“Fearne, we have to — shit… is she asleep?” Declan’s voice called out from in front of them.
“Come back in twenty and she’ll be ready to go,” Louis said taking his eyes off the woman beside her.
“Fearne, we have to go. Russell wants a quick word.” Declan said walking towards the couch.
“Tell Russell he can fuck off,” Fearne replied dryly.
“He writes my checks so I can’t do that,” Declan said as he slipped his phone into his pocket.
“Actually, mate, she’s the one who writes your checks.” Louis nodded towards Fearne. “Without this one, you lot wouldn’t have jobs.”
A small smile formed on Fearne’s face as she opened one eye to look at the man sitting beside her. If there was one thing she loved about Louis Tomlinson, it was his ability to stick up for the people he cared about. No matter what the circumstances where, if you meant something to him, he’d have your back for life. It was nice to see that despite everything that had happened between them, when it came down to it, he still cared.
“Easy there, Lou. We all know how this fight ends.” Fearne said patting him on the leg.
“Still doesn’t make it right.” He mumbled shyly.
“We need to go,” Declan said ignoring whatever moment was being shared.
“I’m not doing anything until I get food,” Fearne said as she stood up. A smug smirk formed on Louis’ face. He always liked when she took his advice and stood up for herself.
“We have to talk to —“ Declan started to say.
“Fuck Russell. I’m starving.” She said placing her hands on her hips. “I’m eating with my brother and SJ. Fuck I’ll even take eating with Tommo and Ni. I need food.”
“Diva,” Declan mumbled as he pulled out his phone to send a quick update to her team.
“Up for some grub?” Fearne asked nodding at Louis.
“You American now?” Louis teased making her blush.
“Lived in LA for a month and she thinks she’s a Yank.” Declan joked — eyes never leaving his phone.
Louis laughed at the light jesting.
“Fuck you,” Fearne mumbled shyly.
“Tommo, we are about twenty minutes out for the next one,” Niall called over to him.
“So that’s a no on food,” Fearne said with a weak smile.
“Kooks at seven?” Louis asked as he stood up.
“If I can make it, yeah,” Fearne said leaning in for the hug.
“Brilliant,” Louis said as he wrapped his arms around her.
“Good to see you, Lou.” She whispered in his ear.
“You too, Fearnie,” Louis whispered back.
And like that, she was gone.
Louis stood quietly as his mind attempted to process what had just happened.
Niall walked over and closed the space between them. He patted Louis’ side gently. “Talk to me.”
“Did that really just happen?” Louis asked — his voice low and full of disbelief.
“It’s just Fearnie,” Niall said. “You can breathe now.”
Louis exhaled loudly as he turned towards his best friend. They had talked about this moment hypothetically on weekends away and drunken nights out. Never in a million years had he anticipated running into her again. He had made a point to avoid her at all costs. He just couldn’t bear the thought of seeing her after everything that happened. It hurt too much.
“You did good.” Niall smiled. “Take a ten and call Mum, yeah?”
“She’s in the middle of the lunch rush at the diner,” Louis said checking the time on his phone. “And besides, a woman like Fearne Phillips deserves more than a ten-minute analysis with Sadie.”
“Okay,” Niall said gnawing on his lower lip. “Um, tell me what you need. A break? A pint?”
“I-I-I don’t know,” Louis stuttered not sure what he needed to do to get his heart to stop pounding. He cleared his throat and looked around the tent. “Let’s just go on with the show and deal with it later.”
“Lou--” Niall sighed.
Louis faked a smile and patted his best friend on the stomach. “I’ll be fine. Promise.”
“Fuck, Tommo. We don’t need a repeat of--” Niall started to say as Louis placed a hand on the Irishman’s shoulder.
“S’not gonna be like last time,” Louis said unconvincingly. “Let’s just uh focus on the next interview.”
“Alright.” Niall sighed. “If you need a minute, you have to tell me.”
“Ni, fuck off.” Louis smiled. “I’m good.”
But Louis Tomlinson wasn’t good. His body went into autopilot for the rest of the evening. Cheeky banter, a flirtatious wink, and his outspoken behavior were thrown into each remaining interviews. The show went on as usual.
Louis Tomlinson’s mind, however, was nowhere near the musical festival. It was grounded at Customs at Heathrow the day things ended. It danced around that chippery in Brighton they went to in the summer. It flew across the States making pit stops in Denial and Despair. It sat on his mum’s couch as she laid into him for giving up so easily. It froze when it remembered the way she would stare at him when he told a story — as if she’d never heard anything like it. It stressed over what he was to do next.
Did he call his mother? Did he get drunk and try to forget the woman who was unforgettable? Or did he give in to his desires and watch her play for the first time in ages?
Because that’s really what he wanted to do. As soon as she walked away, he wanted to be beside her. He wanted to hear her sing and watch her perform. He wanted to make her laugh and have her call him a bastard when the tiniest things inconvenienced her. He wanted so many things that he hadn’t wanted in years and that was terrifying.
Louis couldn’t believe what he was about to witness. It took three pints and two shepherd’s pies to convince himself to walk across the venue to stand side stage for one of the biggest acts in all of England. He was hoping the liquid courage would get him through the songs he knew were about him and the ones he hadn’t heard yet.
“You sure about this, Lou?” Niall asked as they claimed their spot.
Louis laughed nervously, “Not in the slightest.”
“We can uh go hang around until it’s time for The Kooks.” Niall offered knowing this was a big step for his best friend.
The drum kits were being switched out as the crowd started to grow in size. The two men shuffled out of the way as crew members worked as quickly as they could to get things ready.
“I am at a music festival and ‘ve barely seen anyone play. Can we please just watch a set?” Louis groaned annoyed.
“We can go pick another one,” Niall said. “I’m sure some indie group is playing across the way.”
“You knew as soon as I saw her I was going to be drawn in again,” Louis said. “Haven’t listened to her sing in five years. First thing I thought of when she walked away was that I’m going to see her set today. Don’t know what it is about her, Ni, but I have to be here.”
Niall nodded knowing it was inevitable. Once Louis set his mind on something he rarely changed it. “Can you give me a signal if it gets to be too much?”
“God, you sound just like Liv.” Louis laughed thinking of his sister.
“Why’s that?” Niall asked confused.
“Ever since she was twelve, Olivia decided she needed to look after her big brother,” Louis explained. “Mum was busy with the diner. Dad was non-existent. When I’d come home from uni, I’d try to make sure things were in order around the house. Liv would always try to take care of me.”
“On my first Fearneless Christmas, we went to me Uncle Tim’s house. I drove Liv while Mum drove the others. She was going to stay at Aunt Margie’s while me and the girls headed down to Dad’s.” Louis continued. “No one really said anything but they were keeping an eye on me. Liv told me that if I needed a break to come squeeze her elbow and she’d intervene.”
“She’s a smart kid.” Niall smiled. “How’d that turn out for you?”
“Pop and Gran knew better to bring it up. Aunt Margie gave me a little cuddle when we finally went inside. Fuckin’ Uncle Tim and his twat of a girlfriend were only concerned with what I was going to sell to the media about the relationship. ‘Did Fearne do this? Did Fearne do that?’ Absolute bull shit.”
“It didn’t get to me until his girlfriend’s daughter started to slag her off. It took one squeeze and Liv was making an excuse to get us both outside. She stole me keys and drove us to a park nearby. I cried in the passenger seat and she just let me. She didn’t try to make things better. She didn’t try to change the subject. She just let me know it was going to get better.”
Niall couldn’t help but smile at the heartwarming story. The bond between Louis and his siblings was truly one of a kind.
“She’s gonna flip when she hears about how today went,” Louis said with a soft smile.
Guitars were being brought in and an ancient looking rug was being placed center stage.
“How bad are the songs?” Louis asked in a hushed tone.
“Nothing you can’t handle,” Niall said. “We still haven’t talked about earlier.”
“Can’t we just debrief tomorrow morning like we do every festival?” Louis asked rolling his eyes — not wanting to have analyze everything that had happened earlier in the day.
“This isn’t like every festival.” Niall pointed out.
“I survived the interview. I can survive the set.” Louis said trying to convince himself more than anything.
“You sure about that Tomlinson?” The voice of a woman he never thought he’d run into again said from beside him.
Standing in all her glory was Fearne's best friend, Samantha Jane Wilkinson.
“Sammy J!” Niall cheered as he made his way towards the tall blonde. “Lookin’ good babes.”
“You are like a fine wine, Horan.” The woman said kissing his cheek. “Better with age.”
Niall Horan’s infamous laugh filled the air as she moved towards Louis. Without saying a word, she pulled him into a hug. He placed a brief kiss on her cheek before saying hello.
“So Tommo, who the fuck did you bribe at the BBC to get that interview with Fearnie earlier?” She asked as she pulled away.
“No one,” Louis said feeling his chest grow tight. He knew how her mind worked and he couldn’t say that he had missed it.
Samantha Jane had always been overprotective of Fearne and wary of anyone who got too close. Her brash and boisterous attitude constantly clashed with Louis’ causing a love-hate relationship to form between the two.
“Really?” Samantha Jane asked unimpressed.
“Matt had some dodgy meat and is still shitting his brains out as we speak,” Louis explained.
“Right.” She replied dryly.
“Go check the loo for yourself,” Niall said trying to help Louis out. “I had it planned so they’d never see each other.”
“So it was fate, then?” Samantha Jane tilted her head. “Interesting.”
“How ya been, babe?” Niall asked trying to change the subject. Louis didn’t need this kind of talk filling his already confused head.
“Fab. Just livin’ the life.” She smiled sadly. Both men took note of it. “How bout you guys?”
“Can’t complain. Living the dream every day.” Niall said rocking back on his heels.
“Just keepin’ busy,” Louis said.
“If you want to see Arch, he usually stands on the other side.” Samantha Jane pointed out.
“Oh yeah?” Louis asked turning his attention to the opposite side of the stage. Fearne’s older brother stood with a drink in his hand as he talked to a pair of blondes.
“Him and Fucktard don’t let me near them when she’s on stage.” She explained.
Louis turned towards her confused, “Why?”
“No idea.” Samantha Jane sighed. “It’s Declan’s doing. Apparently, I’m a distraction.”
“Why the fuck is that man still around?” Louis crossed his arms over chest.
“You know how she is.” The woman sighed as she settled into a spot beside him. “The team thinks he’s good at his job and we’ve been mates since we were in nappies so he’s here for good.”
“Fucking bull shit, if you ask me,” Louis mumbled.
“At least that’s something we still agree on.” She said.
A small huddle formed near the stairs leading up to the stage. Microphones were being checked while a sea of people waited anxiously for Fearne and her band to take the stage. Louis almost couldn’t believe his eyes at the size of the crowd that had formed. If there was anyone that deserved that kind of recognition, it was her.
Before he could get caught up in the insanity of it all, Louis felt someone nudge him. The blonde woman beside him moved a bit closer to him before speaking in a low tone.
“Don’t know what you did, Lou.” She said placing a hand on his shoulder. “She came back like a bloody schoolgirl.”
“I-I-I didn’t do anything.” Louis sputtered.
“She was giddy, mate. I don’t remember the last time I’ve seen her genuinely happy.” Samantha Jane smiled.
“When you barely get any time off and are living out of a suitcase, I could see that bein’ true,” Louis said.
“She’s getting time off so it’ll be good for her.” She said.
“Until something pops up and she has to do it or Russell will be up her arse about it,” Louis said as he watched Declan appear across the stage.
“She needs new people around her but she won’t listen to me when I try to tell her.” Samantha Jane said sounding a bit disappointed. “I guess I did that to myself though.”
She cleared her throat hoping it would distract him from what she had said. “Anyways, I don’t know what today means or if this is going to be a reoccurring thing.”
Louis looked at her confused. “What are you on about?”
“She’s not as strong as she looks so if whatever this is going to be goes south again, you’re going to have to answer to me this time. Got it?” She stated with a bit of malice.
“Something has to happen before it can go south.” He shot back ignoring the thoughts in the back of his mind. He wasn’t going to go there. It was too soon.
“I know I’m jumping the gun but I can’t lose her again.” Samantha Jane said. “She’s all I’ve got.”
“Don’t worry, Sam. I wo—“ Louis started to say before he was drowned out by the screams of the crowd.
The fiery brunette who held a special place in his heart raced past him and took her place in the center of the stage.
“Glastonbury,” Fearne yelled out. “How the fuck are ya?”
A smug look formed on his face. She hadn’t changed a bit.
Samantha Jane leaned in and cupped her hand over his ear before she spoke. “Our girl has become one hell of a performer. You’re in for a treat.”
Samantha Jane was right. Fearne Phillips was one hell of a performer and Louis nearly regretted staying away from her music for the past few years. Her stage presence and artistry were truly one of a kind. She really was one of the greatest artists of their generation. Louis spent the entirety of her set absolutely buzzing. Music festivals were tough for him. It was a lot of work and very little play so when he got the opportunity to see a set he tried to make it count.
Oddly enough, watching his ex-girlfriend sing songs about him and their past had proven to be worth it. He followed Niall down the stairs as crew members rushed past them to start taking things down. Samantha Jane followed behind him typing away on her phone.
Niall opened his mouth to ask what was going to happen next but the leggy blonde in the back beat him to it.
“You lot stayin’ for Kooks?” Samantha Jane asked looking between the pair of men.
“Uh, yeah,” Louis responded without missing a beat.
Niall shot him a concerned look but Louis dismissed it.
“Boss Lady wants us to head over there and she’ll meet us there. That alright with you, Ni?” She asked focusing back on her phone.
Niall looked at Louis. “You sure bout this?”
“He survived the interview and the set. Tommo can do anythin’.” Samantha Jane teased.
“Oh fuck off,” Louis said with a laugh.
“Arch will be absolutely chuffed to see ya both.” She smiled slipping her phone into her bag. “Glad you said yes. Boss Lady wasn’t gonna let me walk by meself anyways.”
“She runs a tight ship.” Niall joked.
“You have no fucking idea.” She rolled her eyes.
The group of adults made their way out of the backstage area and onto the festival grounds. They had thirty minutes to walk across the field, reunite with their friends, and claim their spot.
As they reached their designated meet spot, Niall and Louis shared a look that was usually reserved for “on the air” moments. It was a way for Niall to check in on Louis without drawing other people’s attention. He signed that he was good allowing the Irishman to take a sigh of relief.
“So Nialler, gotta life or death question for ya. Are you single or what?” Samantha Jane asked.
“Why? You down?” Niall smirked causing a pretty serious blush to form on the young woman’s cheeks.
“She’d eat you alive, mate,” Louis said shaking his head.
Samantha Jane tilted her head to the side. “He could handle it.”
Niall shifted on his feet not realizing how much damage a gaze from Samantha Jane Wilkinson could cause.
“He’s my baby. You’d destroy him.” Louis said glancing over at his best friend. “Can’t be havin’ that.”
“I thought you were trying to get with Declan,” Niall asked finally finding his voice.
“No. He tried it on with me.” Samantha Jane said. “And then Fearnie but uh that didn’t go over too well.”
Louis stayed quiet. He always had a feeling that Declan was a bit smitten with his missus but he could never prove it. Hearing he tried something with Fearne after they split wasn’t surprising in the slightest.
“That’s a story for another day.” Samantha Jane said before clearing her throat. “So, you lads seeing anyone?”
“Do you ever keep it in your pants, SJ?” Archie Phillips called out catching everyone’s attention.
“Like you should be talking.” Samantha Jane said rolling her eyes.
“Not my fault, ladies love me,” Archie said smugly. “Unlike you.”
“Arch, leave her alone,” Fearne said hitting her brother across the stomach.
“Yeah. Leave me alone.” Samantha Jane retorted childishly.
“As you get older, you think to yourself that maybe today will be the day when they grow out of it. That maybe this will be the moment of clarity they need.” Archie said looking around the group. “But then it hits you, they’ll never change.”
“They are always going to be annoying little sisters.” Archie winked at Louis.
“Little sisters really are the worst.” Louis laughed as he moved towards the man.
“Bring it in bruv.” Archie smiled with outstretched arms.
“It’s been too long.” Louis smiled as the two men embraced.
“Tell me about it. You’re almost an old man now.” Archie said making the others laugh.
“Like he should be talking.” Samantha Jane mumbled.
“Oi, watch it, Sammy.” Archie glared.
“How the fuck is City at the top of the table?” Louis asked stepping away from the man who was like an older brother to him.
“Because United doesn’t know how to play football.” Archie deadpanned making his sister laugh.
“Let’s not talk football.” Samantha Jane sighed.
“Just because you guys picked a shit team—“ Fearne started to say before Louis cut her off.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Just because at the moment you’re doin’ well for yourself doesn’t mean you can be all high n’ mighty, Phillips.” Louis teased.
She threw her hands up in defense. “Sorry, didn’t know it was a touchy subject for ya.”
Louis rolled his eyes while the people around him laughed.
“Question for ya though, how are the Donny Rovers doin’?” She smirked knowing his other football team wasn’t doing too well either.
“Oh fuck you.” He shook his head.
“That was a low blow, Fearnie.” Archie sighed. “That’s the man’s pride and joy right there.”
“Seems to me Louis doesn’t know how to pick a football team.” Fearne smiled making Louis blush.
“You have one good season and you think you’re hot shit.” Louis shook his head as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“How many times has United won the title since Fergie left?” She shot back making Niall laugh.
Louis attempted to defend himself but he couldn’t. A pleased look formed on his ex-girlfriend’s face.
“We’ve got all night to watch you twos flirt with each other. I need me a pint. Anyone else keen?” Archie teased.
Everyone in their small group had agreed that a pint (or two) was needed.
“I’ll go with you to get one,” Fearne said quickly.
“It’s okay. Deco and the Irish One can come with me.” Archie said thinking on his feet. Keeping his sister safe was a top priority and having her walk around in a crowd of festival-goers didn’t seem like a good idea.
“You sure about this?” Niall asked looking over at Louis.
“Yeah. What he said.” Fearne said giving her brother a confused look.
“SJ can play minder. Make sure everything goes smoothly. No more football talk until we get back. Sound good?” Archie said giving his sister a reassuring look.
“I don’t know if that’s smart,” Declan said moving closer to Fearne. “Maybe I should stay back too.”
Louis kept his eyes on Fearne’s face. She was not having it.
“It’s fine. Go with Arch.” Louis said stepping in. “We’ll behave. We’re adults now.”
“I’ll take care of your babies.” Samantha Jane said catching onto what Louis was trying to do. “We’ll be good, yeah?”
“Alright, let’s go boys,” Archie said turning around.
With that, Fearne Phillips found herself alone with her best friend and her ex-boyfriend. It was such a weird feeling. She never thought she’d get this moment again. She turned to say something but Samantha Jane just shook her head.
“What?” Fearne asked confused.
“He’s got to go.” Samantha Jane said with a serious look on her face.
“Sam, I can’t—“ Fearne sighed knowing what she was referring to.
“At least tell Arch. He deserves to know.” Samantha Jane said.
“We can talk about this later,” Fearne said glancing at Louis shyly.
“He knows you can take care of things on your own so why was he was so keen to stay?” Samantha Jane pointed out.
“Because I’m here,” Louis said. “He’s always been a jealous twat.”
“But he’s good at his job,” Fearne said as if that were a good enough reason.
“You deserve better than that,” Louis said with a sad smile.
Fearne felt her cheeks grow warm. She knew Louis was right but he didn’t know the whole story. In an attempt to change the subject, Fearne cleared her throat and threw a fabricated smile on her face before looking between Louis and her best friend.“Guess what this twat asked me today during the interview?”
“If he fucking brought up ‘Gap’, I’m gonna lose it.” Samantha Jane said looking over at Louis.
“Still thinks they are gonna play it.” Fearne laughed making Louis blush.
“You never know,” Louis said defending himself. “Today’s been a wild card of a day. Anything could happen.”
“Okay, Ellie Goulding.” Samantha Jane said rolling her eyes.
“I bet — “ Louis started to say but Fearne’s laughter stopped him.
“Fuck, I’ve actually missed this.” Samantha Jane said amazed by her own words. “You just like losing, don’t ya Tommo?”
“They don’t play it, I’ll buy you a pint,” Louis said sticking out his hand for Fearne to shake. “If they do, you owe me.”
“You could have spiced things up a bit, Lou. That was like child’s play.” Samantha Jane added.
Ignoring her best friends commentary, Fearne reached out and shook his hand. She noticed his fingers lingered against hers longer than they should have. It was interesting.
“Since you two are gettin’ on quite well, mind if I bail? I see an eight with a beard makin’ heart eyes at me.” Samantha Jane said nodding a guy standing nearby.
“Keep your phone on,” Fearne said looking over her shoulder at the group of people the stranger belonged to.
“Yes, Mum.” Samantha Jane said adjusting her top.
“No drugs,” Fearne said sternly.
“Yeah, yeah.” She said slipping her phone into her bag.
“I’m being serious SJ,” Fearne said grabbing onto her friend’s hand.
Samantha Jane looked her in the eye. “ No drugs. I promise.”
“Have fun.” Fearne nodded.
The blonde leaned in and placed a quick kiss on her cheek before disappearing into the crowd.
“I can send Niall after her when he gets back if you want me to.” Louis offered.
“If she’s not back after the set, I’ll take you up on that,” Fearne said with a soft smile.
Louis nodded as he moved a little closer to her. The pair of adults stayed silent as mobs of people moved around them. It was almost surreal. After all this time, they were going to be watching a band that had basically defined their relationship.
“I can see why Georgette is obsessed with your latest album,” Louis said breaking the silence.
“Oh Georgie, bless her.” Fearne smiled. Louis’ middle sister was always her favorite.
“Might have to pick myself up a copy of the ones I’ve missed.” He said with a smile.
“I think this next set is going to be much better than what you just watched,” Fearne said unable to accept his compliment. Louis has a very strong opinion when it came to music so knowing he approves of all the songs that were influenced by him was something she couldn’t quite comprehend.
“You’ve done well for yourself, kid,” Louis said softly.
“Thanks, Lou.” Fearne blushed.
A brief silence settled in once more as new groups formed around them. She moved a little closer to him. She could tell by the look on his face that he wanted to bring something up but he was holding back. Knowing him as well as she did, she knew it had to be serious because biting his tongue wasn’t one of Louis’ specialties.
“You alright?” Fearne nudged him gently.
“Ye-Yeah.” Louis stuttered. He cleared his throat letting her know he was lying. Fearne didn’t press the matter.
She just nodded as she looked up at him.“I’ve got like two more festival dates and then I’m off for a year. Can you believe it?”
“Fearne Phillips actually gets time off? Blasphemy.” Louis replied dryly.
“Shocking, I know.” She laughed.
“What are you gonna do?” He asked crossing his arms over his chest.
“Um, sleep.” She shrugged. “Haven’t had a year off since I started. I’m overdue on this whole sleep thing.”
“You’re right about that.” He laughed softly.
“I dunno what else. Maybe head home and get back to me Northern roots.” She said turning on her true accent.
“The North better prepare themselves.” He said.
Fearne giggled. “Been back recently?”
Louis shook his head. “No, but hope to soon.”
“I’m sure they’re missing ya.” She said.
“They get to hear me every afternoon so they aren’t missin’ me that much.” He said with a shrug.
It wasn’t long before a group of guys beside them recognized her. She sent a tight smile in their directions before moving closer to him. He moved to the other side of her body acting as a buffer from the group of men.
“Fifty quid, we get papped and sent to The Sun tomorrow.” She mumbled nodded to another group of people that had spotted them. Mobile phones were out and photos were being taken.
“Britain’s next It couple,” Louis said.
Fearne laughed. “Fearne Phillips reignites illicit tryst with scorned ex-lover Louis Tomlinson.”
“Louis Tomlinson smokes out pop star ex-girlfriend Fearne Phillips during festival love fest.” Louis rattled off.
“Remember when they thought we shagged in me car after that god awful trip back home?” She snorted remembering the unflattering paparazzi pictures.
“Never heard the end of that one.” He blushed.
“We got into some trouble, didn’t we?” She said looking up at him with a happy look on her face.
“Wouldn’t change it for the world though.” He nodded.
“Maybe less fighting,” Fearne said softly. “But I agree.”
“But the fighting brought us closer.” He said with a sigh.
“You are right about that.” She said with a nod. No matter how bad the fight was, no one went to bed angry.
“I wanna see you when you get back from being home,” Louis said leaning in close. He didn’t know why those words chose that moment to escape from his mouth but he was happy that they did. “Might be too forward but I don’t give a fuck.”
“Why’s that?” Fearne asked confused.
“Your accent gets thicker and you get more annoyed with the City.” He said smugly.
She laughed to herself. “Yeah, you’re right about that.”
Before Louis got the chance to confirm plans, someone nudged him. He turned to find Fearne’s brother with two fresh pints in his hand. He graciously took one before making room for the other boys to join in.
“No tears? No blood? No fightin’?” Archie asked looking confused. “You lot alright?”
“Fuck off, Arch.” Fearne sighed. “We’re capable of being friends. We’re adults now.”
“Where’d SJ go?” Declan asked handing Fearne the extra pint in his hand.
“Off to suck some fella’s face off,” Fearne explained.
“But she --” Archie started to say sounding worried.
“She promised she wouldn’t,” Fearne said knowing what her brother was going to ask.
“I offered to send Ni after her,” Louis said before taking a sip of his drink.
“She’ll be fine boys.” Fearne faked a smile. “Let’s focus on the show.”
“You’re too trusting, Fearnie,” Declan said. “She comes back on one, that’s on you.”
The young woman opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. It wasn’t worth the argument. Instead, she gripped her drink a little tighter and made her way to an open area that was away from her friends. She didn’t need the boys to ruin the rest of her night by making her feel guilty for trusting Samantha Jane. Unlike them, she always Samantha Jane the benefit of the doubt — even if she didn’t always deserve it.
Without a word, Louis moved from his spot beside Archie and took up the space beside his ex-girlfriend. Her body was tense until she realized it was him. Her actions didn’t go unnoticed. When he focused on Fearne’s face, he knew something wasn’t right.
Louis leaned in close. “She’s gonna be fine.”
“Even if she wasn’t, it’s not like they are gonna be the ones helping her when she’s coming off a bad trip. Or holding her hair back when she’s spewing her guts out or keeping her hydrated the next day.” She mumbled. “It’s not like they actually give a shit.”
“She’s lucky to have you.” He said sincerely.
Fearne could feel her cheeks grow warm. “Actually, I’m lucky to have her.”
“That’s true. I know this isn’t me place but I uh meant what I said earlier about Deco. You deserve better.” He said taking a sip of his drink. “He’s a fucking twat.”
“Biggest twat on the fuckin’ planet,” Fearne mumbled. “But you didn’t hear it from me.”
Louis laughed making her smile. The lights went out on stage alerting the entire crowd that things were about to kick off. Archie and the boys made their way over to where Fearne and Louis had been standing. A bit of mindless chatter began amongst them as they waited for the show to begin.
Intro music began sending a wave of electricity throughout the crowd. Fearne felt herself move closer to Louis. She couldn’t believe this was happening. After all this time, they were back together and about to watch their favorite band.
“Lou.” She said nudging him.
“Hmm.” He mumbled looking over at her.
The look in his eye was something she’d never forget. Louis had a way of making her feel like the most important person in the world whenever she spoke. It was something she had missed.
“I’m glad we ran into each other.” She said.
His cheeks grew warm from the sincerity in her voice.
“Past few years, everyone has asked me what I thought would happen if we saw each other again and this has honestly been better than anything I could ever imagine.” She admitted.
“I guess it was a good thing that Matty nearly shit himself.” Louis joked making her laugh.
“Thankin’ me lucky stars for that.” She winked.
“Mum isn’t going to believe the day I’ve had.” He said with a smile.
Before anything else could be said, the kick drum kicked in causing the crowd to roar with excitement.
The rest of the night felt like a dream. She couldn’t have asked for a better weekend. She was surrounded by good food, good music, and good people. A few more drinks were shared before everyone parted ways for the night.
Fearne Phillips didn’t know how it happened but she felt rejuvenated. It could have been because her work duties were over. It could have been the fact that her vacation was only two weeks away. It could have been the small reunion with a man who made up so many memories from her past. She didn’t know.
She did know that she wasn’t the same person as she was when she woke up that morning. That was something to be happy about.
As she got ready for bed that night, her phone buzzed on the counter of the caravan’s bathroom. On the screen was a number she hadn’t recognized but the message gave the sender away.
Tuesday. Stags Head. Lunch is on me even though you lost, loser. x
A goofy grin formed on her face. She quickly shot back a reply before adding his new number to her phone.
Maybe being friends with Louis wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.
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18.
Pushing the covers off of my body in a huff, Cassius is not home and it’s what. Lifting my phone up, the screen lit up and it’s about four in the morning, he is not funny at all. I did go to sleep but obviously with Cassius not near me it’s hard to sleep, I told him I don’t want this shit. All he said was don’t wait up, I’ll be home soon, I swear to god he just loves to annoy me. Placing my phone back on the side table and got out of bed, getting out of bed. Even if he does come home I won’t kick off, I will do it in the morning. He knows this, I have told him plenty of times, I don’t want you in that life but here he is out at night. Grabbing the glass from the side of the sink, I have been sleeping but waking up of course. Opening the tap and pouring the water in the glass, since being off work I do get to see Cassius more, I get to see what he is like. I mean throughout the day he is mine, I cook for him and we eat, then it hits about ten and then he is out, second time he has done this and I don’t like it, I don’t like being alone in this place with duffle bags full of money. I am not going to argue, I can hear him unlocking the door, I wonder what he is bringing back tonight, maybe more drugs he couldn’t get rid of, let’s see. I sniggered at him closing the door ever so slowly as I watched him, clearing my throat as I poured the water into the sink “you’re awake” Cassius said, turning around and seeing Cassius with his snapback low, wearing an all black outfit, this was not the outfit he left home with “what is in the bag?” another duffle bag “Sofia, don’t question things. Relax ok? I am trying to make things good” waving him off as I walked by him “then why are you wearing a different outfit? What are you now, James fucking Bond?” walking to the bedroom “perhaps but it needed to be done, I got the outfit from my parents home” shaking my head “right, the place I told you to bring your stuff from to here, whatever” banging the door shut, I don’t want to hear him.
Sitting on the edge of my bed, Mia has sent me a text about meeting up “don’t be banging shit in this place” looking up from my phone at his face, he took his snapback off of his head and threw it to the ground “just like you need to not throw shit on the floor, pick it up” I pointed “you ain’t a child Cassius, you do this every time. I clean it for you, now pick it up” Cassius ain’t about to do what I said, he walked off and by me as he took his top off, he walked by his snapback “since you lost weight, you become a whole asshole. Go back to being fat” locking my phone, placing my phone on the side “because you ask the same shit every night. Sofia, I told you! I need to fucking exit right, I rushed back for you, I rush back that I have to bring shit home because of you. Or I would be out till longer. I told you, fucking support me. I try my best to balance your feelings and then that shit” getting into bed “no, you like that life and I know it. I seen this new Cassius, you getting all fit and trained, when you was fat you was really more better” Cassius sighed out “I think you jealous that I look good, so what. Sofia, this is pointless, you just want to argue just because but I ain’t being dragged into it, nope” he took his jeans off, turning onto my side “whatever” I am sleeping away from him, he can do whatever he likes. He is out there living a double life, well I feel it anyways or maybe I am jealous that he is looking good, we will never know but I am going to sleep angry now.
I flinched a little hearing the sound of a bang and clatter of something falling in the living room, I frowned with my eyes still firmly shut. My eyes shot open, I can hear talking. What is Cassius even doing now, I sighed out looking behind me to see if he has gone, laying head back down on the pillow and I froze, he is in bed and panic set in “Cassius” reaching behind me “Cass” I said in a whisper, someone is here. Quickly moving onto my back “Cass” hitting him as he woke up “what?” he is fully asleep “someone is here” I am so scared, Cassius looked at me confused until he heard another bang. He jumped out of bed “I am scared” I do what I do best and cry, Cassius ran towards the side draw. Pulling out the bottom draw, crawling over the bed towards Cassius, I never knew he has a draw full of guns “get up, Sofia” Staring at Cassius in confusion, I didn’t move but just stare, Cassius didn’t have the time, he yanked me up “listen to me, I don’t know who’s out there, you need to be here, don’t move” Cassius dragged me, all I can do is cry “don’t go out there” Cassius yanked me ahead of him and pushed me back against the wall “you wait here, you take this” my heart is in my mouth right now “you take it Sofia, there is no time for you to be like this” he cocked the gun back “I took the safety off it, you stay here” I sobbed out, I don’t want this “no, I don’t want this” I said in a whisper.
Sofia needs to suck it up with the crying right now, pulling up my sweatpants. I just rushed back because of Sofia, I just knew it. I knew something was wrong, walking towards the door as I fixed the silencer on the gun “if someone walks in, you shoot. Nobody comes here” whoever is here knows I am here, they have not come into the bedroom. They are here not to kill but to send a message, I know it. Opening the door slowly “please don’t go” Sofia said but what she want me to do, pulling open the door just a little. It looks dead out there “let’s get out, come” there they are, they have their faces covered “we taking this” my duffle bags, the other guy walked off and I am guessing out to go. Nobody about to take my motherfucking money, pulling open the door. Cocking the gun back, closing the door slowly. These niggas dumb, I quickly move to the side as the nigga that walked off came back in “we got to go, if he comes out” he counting my money “I am coming, just go” peaking around the corner, he’s gone again which leaves him. They have smashed everything they could, glass all over the floor. They wrecked my whole crib, slowly walking over to him “oh shit!” the nigga walked back in saying, seeing him and I instantly did what I had to do and shoot him and I didn’t miss. Being pushed back as I looked ahead of me, I got tackled to the ground. My gun falling out of my hand, the guy’ fist met the side of my face. Reaching my hand up and around his neck, I ain’t about to let a nigga punch get me down. Punching his face “you dead nigga” quickly moving my hand from around his neck to his wrist as he was about to shoot me, punching his face again and trying to make him drop his gun, the gun fired and the loud shot went off and into the wall, pushing his hand back so much he had to drop his gun so I grabbed it, he wrapped his hands around my neck tightly, with the back of the gun I hit his head with force knocking him to the ground at the side of me, I took in a deep breath in a state of shock.
Walking towards the door, seeing the mess of blood in the kitchen and the front door open “fuck” this is not what I need, I need to get Sofia out of here quick. This motherfucker is going to wake up so I need to get Kyle to get this dealt with, I didn’t expect this, maybe I should have let them take the money “Sofia, don’t shoot it’s me. Put the gun down ok?” I ain’t want her to shoot me “have you done it?” I said outside the door “yeah” opening the door slowly, looking behind the door and Sofia is in the corner staring ahead of her. Reaching down picking up the gun, closing the door behind me. Walking around the bed, I need to just get Kyle to fucking clean this and it needs to be dealt with, I don’t know if someone is out there or someone called the police on me. Grabbing my phone, I honestly don’t know what to say to Sofia at all, I can’t just tell her that currently there is a dead nigga on the floor. Dialling Kyle’ number, I feel so bad right now. I felt something was wrong, when I was coming back I just had that feeling “Kyle, you need to come here to my crib and you need to bring the cleaning niggas cause I have fucking had niggas come here and try to kill me or do something. Just hurry up, I ain’t fucking playing” disconnecting the call, throwing my phone on the bed.
I honestly do not know what to say to Sofia, taking in a deep breath. Turning around, she hasn’t moved at all “I am sorry” I apologised, walking over to Sofia ever so slowly. A sob left her lips, crouching down to Sofia “I need you to get dressed, I need you to put some clothes on. I need to get you out of here” Sofia looked up at me “you promised you would leave this, look at what has happened Cassius” hanging my head low “I know, right now. I need you to go” Sofia cried out “go where!” she shouted “you said you would keep me safe, and this!” nodding my head “and you are riding with me, Sofia I am trying to keep you safe. Get ready, please!” getting up from my position, I am not for feelings right now. I am trying to not bring that in because I could end up locked up again, I am too scared to go out there because there could be someone waiting, the word dawned on me, I said scared and I have never been that at all.
Watching Kyle slowly walked into the living room, well what is left of it “what the fuck happened?” I shrugged “you tell me, how am I supposed to know. I came home, wasn’t you and Myles supposed to be keeping an eye on things” Kyle looks speechless, nobody has even attacked our homes, or tried to do such a thing “maybe we are being too lazy. Maybe if you fucking came with me, maybe if you closed deals right, maybe if you killed the niggas right we wouldn’t get this. Your new found fame has made you lazy. I want you to clean this shit, now!” Kyle is angry “and that can be done, we ain’t being lazy. Just people hate us more Cassius, I would never put your life in danger. Just like you want to leave so do I now, so please” Kyle said “whatever they was up too, they slashed your tires and trashed your car outside, is your girl here?” nodding my head “you know it, clean it up” Kyle nodded his head “we can exit now, we can shut shop. I think it’s getting too close, they getting brave. We can discuss more next time but get yourself out” Sofia probably hates me right now.
Slowly walking into the bedroom, Sofia sat on the bed with a bag packed and she is wearing my hoodie “I am so sorry” I have to apologise to her, she never asked for this life and here I am making her have that life “now will you leave” closing the door behind me, nodding my head “I just need to close off a few things” I mumbled “you was doing that now Cassius, it’s bringing trouble next, either you or I will be dead! Is that what you want, I will support you but you’re pushing it! Please stop this, I am begging you” I swallowed hard “I realise this” chewing on my top lip “I said I would support you and I am, I am here. I am not leaving but I don’t support this! I don’t want to die just yet, I want to be a mother, I want to grow old with you. You do it for me” walking towards Sofia, getting onto my knees “what you doing?” Sofia said, on my knees across from Sofia “I was so scared, for once in my life I am scared. I am scared because I want to see what our kids will look like, I want a future with you Sofia. You think I don’t but I do, to have you here so close to people that want to kill me hurts and I honestly promise you, by next week we will be gone, I just need you to believe me. I am so sorry” wrapping my arms around Sofia’ waist as I placed my head on her lap “Cassius I do, I am just so stressed by all of this, now I know out there there is someone dead. I ain’t stupid. Cassius just please, you said next week now you better do this. I can’t live this life Cassius, I am not made for this but I love you” I can’t lose Sofia, I cannot.
I can’t let Sofia see dead bodies now, that other nigga is dead now I ain’t do it but you know. “so are you ready to go? We going to a hotel, I will pick you up and take you out. You can come back after for a few things” she nodded her head “Sofia, I want you. I do” I hate to see the doubt in her eyes, it hurts. Placing my hands on the side of her face “it’s not you Cassius, I love you. This life you hold onto, you want me right?” she said, nodding my head “baby I want you, I want to live for you. I do!” pressing a kiss to her lips “get me out of here Cassius” pressing my head against hers “I need you to close your eyes until we leave ok?” moving my hands away from the side of her face “I will” Sofia wrapped her arms around my neck and I picked her up “honestly, please close you eyes” Sofia pressed a kiss to my cheek “I am sad they hurt your face, anyways. My eyes are closed now” Sofia rested her head on my shoulder, let me get her out of here.
Luckily they ain’t slash Sofia’ car tires, them motherfuckers didn’t know that, closing Sofia’ car door for her “don’t worry about it, we will clean this shit up but we can’t move bodies right now. It’s morning, we just fix the door and board the window up” rubbing my face “I am so stressed right now, someone is watching me, I know it. Someone is out to get me, or us. I don’t know, next week I have to get out of here. Nobody has tried to come at me in a place I am at, I am not sure if they was there to kill or give me a sign. They never came to the room at all. I put Sofia’ life in danger, even now. I am shook, just deal with that. Call me. I will be with you” the couple that live downstairs looked at me, I smiled “morning” I have to be fake “morning, was there a break in?” there is no police so let me explain properly “not exactly, a family domestic with my brother, I am sorry if we woke you. He is crazy, he has personality issue, sorry” the guy just smiled “we didn’t hear much but was concerned” thank god “It’s fine, thank you” waving them off “will call you” Kyle dapped me as he walked off, I need to be careful.
By next week I need to be out of this bitch and going to Atlanta no matter what, I just need to think “you know Cassius, I always say this but I know my gut feeling is right. You’re the boss” resting my head back on the headrest “I am nothing Sofia, look. What happens next is we go to a hotel, tonight I will be going out. I am going to gather the money I have, I mean it’s a lot of money, I need to gather it. I need to disappear with you. I need you to be not so out there, they knew. I know they knew I had you in there. They knew it, we may leave even before then I am not sure. For safety reasons” I am stressed the fuck out, someone has put out a hit on me, they must have “you know what I am going to say” Sofia mumbled “you don’t like this, just please” I am fucking livid.
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Suspended Memories
Pairing: Bucky X Vampire Original Female Character
Words: 7K
Warnings: Violence. Blood. Broken bones. Smut. NSFW gifs. Not sure how to say this but mentions of blood...as in both parties getting turned on by it and escalating from there. So go away if any of that makes you uncomfortable please
Summary: She had found what she once dreamed of: a family in a team, a paradise in an unknown nation, and a soulmate in a broken soldier. But what happens when Bucky sees Rozalia for what she is, a bloodthirsty monster that can lose control at any moment?
A/N: for @cleolemonfanfiction The prompt was “they’re about to die smut.“ This is draft three and I decided to just go ahead with what I wrote. I’m not going to lie I think this is absolute garbage and I don’t think I’ve ever felt so conscious about my style of writing but I hope you guys like it. Also, this is the first time I write an original character not a reader insert so let me know how it is. I’ll put up the tags when I wake up.
It all happened so fast she didn’t see it coming. Ironically, this was never a problem for her since everything was usually kept under control. It took the few seconds of distraction for him to get the drop on her and before she could even make a sound, she was chained and dragged away from the docks.
Between the sounds of men screaming and shots firing, Rozalia tried to stay awake, listening to Steve yelling through the earpiece and sighing in relief when the hostages were secured. But then there was this problem. Looking up, she saw a masked man dragging her with the chains to a nearby building. If he knew how to overpower her, then he most certainly knew what she was.
Rozalia kept on staring at him, wishing he’d glance at her even for a second because that’s all she needed to escape. But he never looked down, reminding her that he probably knew what she was capable of. As soon as he went into the warehouse, he took the duct tape off of her mouth and slammed her against the wall, a gut-wrenching scream sounding from her throat and alerting the rest of the team what was happening.
“Where’s Rozalia? Does anybody have eyes on Rozalia?” She could hear Steve yelling while punching someone, the responses from the rest of the team not making the situation any better.
“She was near the east side of the docks...Barnes she was coming to you, did you see where she went?” Sam seemed to be the only one who noticed her movement, making her hiss because this was not the time to guilt trip anyone. But then she heard something that she knew for sure no one else picked up on. Bucky cursed under his breath, panting through the comms and letting everyone know he started making rounds to see where she went.
Rozalia backed away from the man in front of her as soon as she saw him approaching. When he kneeled down, he saw the earpiece and snatched it away, laughing at her current situation before speaking to everyone.
“I know you can hear me Winter Soldier.” She hissed at him again, knowing Bucky was stupid enough to come to her with no back-up.
“What do you want?” Rozalia heard Bucky reply, wishing once again the man would look at her.
“We can sort that out later. You come alone and if anyone else tries anything, her head might get just a little detached from her body.” He walked to the metal doors and fired a shot, signaling their location before throwing the earpiece on the floor and crushing it.
Minutes later, she could hear someone else’s heartbeat, letting her know Bucky was right outside. Rozalia tried to scream but the man still had the chains wrapped around her neck, the smell of burning skin filling her nostrils.
As soon as he walked in, the man sprayed something at his face, only managing to anger Bucky before receiving a hefty blow to the throat. He fell backward and didn’t budge, her eyes looking at the body before turning to Bucky. He shook his head and ran towards her, face scrunching in pain when he tried to remove the chains from her neck and arms.
“Shit shit are you alright?” For a man who barely spoke more than three syllables to her in the past year, Rozalia was surprised he was even in front of her.
“Hmmm-” She nodded, taking his hands and standing up. Bucky smiled at her and Rozalia could tell he wanted to say something but she sensed movement from the corner of her eyes, pushing Bucky to the ground and screaming in anger when the shot exited her shoulder.
“You motherfucker-” Within seconds, Rozalia was in front of the man, fingers ripping off the mask before turning his chin to stare into his eyes.
“Who sent you?” She growled at him, eyes turning pitch black before his body became limp in her hold.
“Baron Strucker.”
Whatever Rozalia expected to hear, this was far from it. Bucky was as surprised as her, but he didn’t show any signs of it. She could tell he was getting nervous though, grudgingly turning her head to see if he was okay. She hated when any of them saw her in this state—unhinged and bloodthirsty—but she had to make sure he wasn’t hurt.
When she turned to the man, she couldn’t help but sniff his neck, her natural instincts taking in before she could try and stop herself. But she still needed answers.
“Why?”
“He wanted to see for himself…” The man couldn’t look away from her, mind completely entranced yet fearful.
“See what?” She tightened her grip on his neck.
“That his training was lost just like the media said.” A deep disgust lied in the pit of her stomach, and then she remembered what he did.
“And how did you know about me?”
“You were the second mission. Kill the Winter Soldier if he didn’t respond to HYDRA’s training and take you...dead or alive.”
“WHY DOES HE WANT ME?” Rozalia’s impatience kicked in, knowing her control would dissipate at any moment.
“I-it’s your blood he needs. Y-your blood is the key...the key to a new serum. The key to make new Winter Soldiers.”
And just like that, something snapped inside of her, making her forget Bucky was in the same room. Under any other circumstances, Rozalia would have either snapped his neck or knocked him out for more interrogation later. But at this precise moment, something else took over.
Bending his neck as far to the side as possible, she announced her attacked with a growl, teeth sinking into his neck, the sound of his screams music to her ears. Whether it was her loss of blood or the wound in her shoulders, Rozalia couldn’t push herself away even if she tried. It was a while later when she decided it was enough, noticing her arms and neck have healed along with her shoulder.
The man’s body dropped to the floor with a thud, her brain going fuzzy when she realized she had an audience. As soon as she turned around, she was met with a look that she couldn’t quite figure out.
And then she wiped her mouth and figured she must’ve been a sight.
He was afraid. He was afraid of her.
“You okay?” Rozalia took her jacket off and wiped her face with it, counting down from a hundred to make sure her eyes and teeth went back to normal. When he didn’t reply, she turned to him again and saw him slightly nod, coughing before he approached her.
Bucky told the team they were both safe and that some clean up was needed in the warehouse, avoiding her eyes before walking out. This was definitely not what she had in mind. Of all the people she would’ve let see her in her ‘natural state,’ Bucky was the last one on her list.
“What happened?” Romanoff was first to see Rozalia, eyes taking in the state of her shirt, and putting two and two together. “Where is he?”
“He’s in there,” was all Rozalia managed to say before she walked out, ignoring Sam’s inquiries and going straight to the jet.
The hour back felt like years. Rozalia didn’t want to talk to anyone, let alone raise her head to look at them. But she could tell he’s been staring at her the entire time. When Bucky and Steve went into the back room, she heard Bucky explaining to him what went down, cringing when he glazed over the part where she almost ripped the guy’s head off from how hard she bit him.
“You alright?” Steve came back in to check on her, the silent nod he received letting him know this was not going to turn into a conversation.
Rozalia spent the entire time meditating on how she got into this mess. It’s been over a year since she’s worked with them. Whatever happened in Sokovia made the team uneasy and once Steve found Bucky, it went downhill. They were all broken in a way and that’s what she connected with. If it weren’t for Nakia saving her ass two years ago, she would have never met any of them. Nakia brought her back to Wakanda, telling her they could be trusted and that they could help her out. When she got there, it was like her life began, the past decades meaning nothing as she finally managed to open up to people. They treated her like family and that’s what did it.
But then Bucky woke up and they told her his story, T’Challa finding it in everyone’s interest for her to join their ‘crime-fighting’ team or whatever rogue thing they had going on. Rozalia was reluctant at first but then she met Steve and he was kind. Natasha didn’t trust her for a while, and she knew very well the Russian agent had every right not to. It’s not like vampires were something people were keen on finding out are real. Sam found it hilarious and asked her all sorts of questions...for science of course.
And no matter how hard she tried, she wished she wasn’t this affected by Bucky. Whether it was seeing herself in him or just wanting to protect him and show him the better side of the world, it took a toll on her, knowing he’d probably want nothing to do with someone like her because he’s had his fair share of unnatural psychopaths his entire life. So Rozalia never hit it off with him, opting to keep her distance with the occasional ‘hellos’ and ‘good nights.’
So here she was, looking every bit of unnatural psychopath in front of the one man she felt for since god knows how many decades.
“We’re here.” Natasha patted her shoulder, Rozalia’s eyes looking up and letting her know exactly how she felt. “Get some rest and we can talk later if you want.” She smiled at the cal woman before following Steve. As soon as she got up, she grabbed her bag and was about to leave when she saw Bucky standing at the exit, not even bothering to hide the way he was staring at her.
Rozalia said nothing, looking down to the floor and moving past him to try and forget what happened.
Once she placed her stuff down in her room, Rozalia was about to walk to medbay when she realized Bucky and the others would probably be there. Knowing none of them would probably want to talk about what happened, she stayed in her room for a few hours, thinking about what or how she’d start this talk with any of them.
It was close to midnight when she decided a fresh walk around the city was much needed. Passing the different rooms, she stopped when someone’s heart rate didn’t sound right. Shutting her eyes, Rozalia focused on everyone on the same floor as her, letting her feet carry her to the last room.
The door wasn’t completely shut and once she pushed it open, her eyes widened in horror.
Bucky was on the floor of his bathroom, body covered in heavy sweat with rapid, shallow respiration, and vomit everywhere. His arms wrapped around his stomach before his head tilted up to see who was in his room.
She ran to him and flipped him on his back, his groans making her feel suddenly uneasy.
“Hey hey stay with me...stay with me. Shit it was poison. Bucky listen to me I’m going to take you to-”
“I...ca-can’t see. I can’t see….ahhhh this hurts..please make it stop. It hurts so much. It hurts.” He’s been crying from the looks of it and based on the slow beat of his heart, he wasn’t going to make it.
“I- let me call Steve and-” His sobs cut her train of thoughts, fingers holding onto her for dear life before his grip tightened on her arms.
“P-please make it stop…” Bucky tried again, making her wish she could take all his pain away.
Rozalia tried to think of what she could do but nothing came to mind. Nothing he’d allow at least.
“Bucky, do you trust me?” She soothed him, hands rubbing at his cheeks and neck, trying to make him understand she won’t leave him.
“Wi-with my life,” the words hadn’t left his lips before she slowly turned his head to the side. She whispered a quick sorry before she bit his clavicle, knowing this would put an end to whatever relationship she had as soon as he came back to himself and remembered what she did. He was about to scream when she placed a hand on his mouth, not wanting anyone else to see what she was doing to him. They wouldn’t understand, probably think she was trying to kill him or something. She needed to save him, even if it cost her having to leave.
In that moment, everything seemed to stop. Because no matter how many times his scent hit her, his blood was much more addicting than she could’ve imagined.
And the thought of losing herself in him was what brought her back to reality. Rozalia raised her head away from him when she heard his heartbeat returning to normal. But the poison wouldn’t be completely out of his system. Grabbing his knife, she slit her wrist and sat behind him, leaning down and whispering for him to open his mouth. When he didn’t comply, she did something she knew for sure he’d never forgive her for. Opening one of his eyes, she noticed his pupils dilating and staring right at her. “I need you to open your mouth for me. Can you do that? Open your mouth for me Bucky.”
As soon as he did, Rozalia placed her wrist on his mouth and told him to drink. They were both high off of oxytocin and all other chemicals, and within seconds, Bucky was grabbing her wrist and bringing it closer to his face, almost choking from how quickly he was drinking her blood.
“B-bucky that’s enough..you’ve healed.” Rozalia was having a hard time remaining focused, because even though she wanted him to stop, deep down, her body was telling her not to pull away. The thrill of drinking someone’s blood and having them drink her own was long forgotten but now it was unstoppable.
The rush of wanting to be with him. In every way possible. It was taking over her entire self and she hoped she would be able to leave before she made another mistake.
“James please…”
That seemed to do the trick because Bucky has never heard his name sound so angelic from someone.
He managed to sit up and rest his back against the wall, looking at her in a way she couldn't figure out. Just like earlier.
But something completely different was running through Bucky’s mind. He never thought he’d be in this position, doing something he knew would be intimate for her kind. Yet she did it so willingly, not even thinking about it twice before offering her blood to him. He knew how set against it she was, not even giving it to the scientists in Wakanda she trusted with her life. She always spoke of the possible side effects and she’d never want to make anyone think she had the upper hand.
He was brought back to reality when she hissed. She should’ve healed by now. But the knife seemed to have cut her deeper than she intended. And then it hit him.
Not only did she cut herself with a metal that’s dangerous to her, she sucked the poison out of his system, not even caring of what could happen to her.
Rozalia misunderstood his silent revelation for anger, remembering she was probably a sight to behold.
His eyes met her briefly, taking in the way her chest rose and fell with every breath she took, eyes pitch black and fangs still dripping blood.
She was sensational.
“I- oh god I’m sorry. You probably d-” She got up to leave, knowing she’d have to deal with the consequences later. Running back to her room, she stripped and stepped into the shower, wanting to forget the last few minutes and focus on anything but the taste of his blood.
Bucky didn’t have a chance to say anything. He was still high off of what happened and couldn’t understand why Rozalia acted the way she did. All contact between the two of them in the past year was mostly a brief greeting or a quick ‘watch out’ during missions. But she never showed any interest.
At first, he didn’t trust her because Steve told him of her powers. The thought of living near someone who could control his entire being with just one look drove him insane. He’d only just got his mind back. But everything she did proved she wasn’t that type of person. She even refused to use those powers on the people they fought, always talking about how horrible it is to know your mind is not yours.
He’d grown very fond of her but she never bothered to be his friend so he assumed she didn’t want to be. But in light of recent events, he realized she may have just been hiding behind a mask.
He’d know all about that.
Without giving it a second thought, Bucky cleaned himself up and walked to her room, knocking before entering.
His breath caught in his throat when his eyes landed on her.
She was standing in a towel, drying her hair in front of the mirror. When she heard him walk in, she turned around and stared at him shutting the door, setting her hair towel down before slowly making her way towards him.
“Why did you run away? Why did you do that?” Bucky wanted to say so many things in that moment.
“I- I did the one thing you dreaded. I controlled you. I just...god I wish I could say I had no choice but that doesn’t excuse what I’ve done.” When he said nothing, Rozalia decided she’s had enough of hiding her emotions.
“You have to understand...you could’ve died and I- I can’t live with the thought of knowing I could’ve helped. If helping you meant you’d hate me for the rest of your life then, that’s a price I would gladly pay. And I’d do it again given the chance.”
“Doll, that’s not- fuck that’s not what I’m asking.” The quizzical look she gave him looked absolutely adorable. No, focus.
“Why did you do that so willingly? As if drinking my blood might not hurt you? Why-” He trailed off, still trying to grasp her words because maybe, just maybe, he had a chance with her.
“Oh god do-don’t you know…” Rozalia couldn’t help her voice from breaking.
And just like earlier, something else took over. Within seconds, Bucky was in front of her, backing her up until her back crashed against the wall, lips seeking her own passionately and melting into her when she whimpered. Of all the things Rozalia expected to happen, this was not one of them. Her hands let go of the towel secured between their bodies and pulled on his hair, all of her bottled up emotions pouring out into the kiss.
But then she remembered why he would be acting this way.
She pushed his chest and wrapped her arms around her frame, looking at him like he was crazy.
“Wha...no no this isn’t. Shit this isn’t you. How could I be so dumb?” She wiped her mouth before approaching him. “Bucky listen to me, there are side effects to what we- I...what I did. Because I drank your blood and then gave you mine, this...whatever you’re feeling right now is not real alright? This is just- oh god you’re going to think I took advantage of you when my…. Shit no no this is not how I wanted this to happen James you have t-” He cut her off again, this time pulling her by her neck before growling into the kiss.
“This,” he pulled on her hair aggressively, “is,” lips sucking and licking her neck before whispering in her ears, “me.”
“Ho-how do you know?” Rozalia lost herself in him, trying to convince herself this wasn’t real because there was no way someone as pure and kind as him would want her, a creature that is unnatural.
“Because I’ve felt this way for months...months, watching you talk to everyone so freely and not bothering to even glance my way. Months since I’ve wanted to have you, touch you, kiss you, devour you, fucking drown in your scent...and yet you ignored me.” Bucky wrapped his arms around her, tightly keeping her body against his because he knew she wouldn’t break. Not her.
The revelation by itself made his knees weak.
“I thought that- god you feel so good, I thought you’d want nothing with me. I thought you saw me as a monster, and I couldn’t stand the thought of finally hearing you say it if- if I tried to talk to you.” Maybe it was her words or the way he held onto her but she couldn’t stop talking.
“And then the mission...I lost it. I lost myself and saw you looking at me that way and I just knew I proved to be the animal I am. And I couldn’t stand the way you walked past me without saying anything. I knew for sure you’d never want to talk to me again.” His hands made their way down to her thighs, leaning down before carrying her and walking to the bed.
“Doll, I didn’t mean to make you feel this way I swear. All I could think of was the fact that I almost lost you cause you came to help me out and then got dragged by that asshole. And I couldn’t stand the thought of thinking he got you to get to me, chaining you up and shooting you and...fuck I just had to leave before I did something I regretted.”
“T-then why didn’t you say anything on the jet?” Rozalia tried to hide behind her hands but Bucky pulled them away, kissing her wrists before leaning down and resting his forehead against hers.
“I- was afraid.”
Those words hurt her more than a stake to the heart could ever. And Bucky could pinpoint the second his words registered in her mind because he’d never wanted to be the cause of that look.
“Not- shit no no baby not of you. I wasn’t afraid of you. Never. I was afraid of how I’d react. I was afraid of trying to reason with you. I was afraid of getting carried away and yelling at you cause you took a fucking bullet for me.”
“I can heal,” Rozalia laughed, making him chuckle as well. “So can I.” Bucky retaliated.
They remained silent, gazing into each other’s eyes before Bucky touched her cheek, smiling when she shut her eyes and nuzzled into him.
“Why did you run? You never gave me a chance to thank you.” Bucky’s smile made her blush, noticing the way she suddenly became flustered.
“I- it’s embarrassing. I can’t-” Rozalia tried to change the topic but he insisted.
“Tell me. Please.”
“I needed to stay away from you.”
“Why?” He wasn’t going to give up.
“When...god this is probably going to disgust you Bucky do you really want to know?” He nodded immediately. “I couldn’t trust myself. This- when I drank your blood, it was like nothing I ever tasted before. It’s addicting. Just smelling it made me crazy and then I gave you mine and...you know about this. It’s not something we do often. It’s one thing to drink someone’s blood and it’s another to give them your blood but when both...in the rare circumstances we do both...it creates a temporary bond between the two people and that’s why I pushed you away. I was afraid you weren’t- you.” She didn’t want to look at him, knowing how the situation must have seemed strange from beginning to end.
“Do you want to drink my blood again?” The question caught the two of them off guard. Rozalia couldn’t lie and say she didn’t want to, but she knew she shouldn’t. And Bucky felt like he was flying when she sank her fangs into his skin. She met his eyes, and dared herself to descend into them. She vowed to never open up to another but the way he looked at her, as if he’d longed for her since he was born, made her want to take the chance.
She’d take the chance for him.
Maybe it was the intensity of the question or the way she played with his hair but Bucky couldn’t hold back anymore. Slowly, he moved his hands to the towel and tugged on it, the action loosening the knot and presenting her body to him. The sound of the metal plates of his arm shifting made her clench her thighs, the action not going unnoticed by him. He was struggling to stay in control and just seeing her shift to release some of that tension almost had him at the edge.
Bucky leaned forward, wanting to worship every inch of her body and mark her and love her and show her just how much he needs her. But Rozalia pushed him away, waiting for him to lay down on his back before straddling his waist and mirroring his thoughts.
“Let me.” She breathed in his scent, focusing on this moment between them rather than what she’s been wanting to do ever since she met him. He sat up long enough for her to take his shirt off, groaning and shutting his eyes when she left a trail of wet kisses down his chest, her teeth teasing his nipples and making him hiss before he bucked his hips into her core.
But Bucky didn’t want to miss anything, reluctantly opening his eyes and looking down at her when he felt her pulling down his sweatpants. Before he could relax back onto the bed, she had already licked the vein protruding on the underside of his cock, pumping him slowly before sucking on the leaking tip.
He’s never felt like a prey before this point, but as soon as he made eye contact, he knew he was. Rozalia hallowed her cheeks, taking her time pleasuring him and refusing to rush through this. She’s thought about this a thousand different ways and now that she had him here, she was most certainly going to slow down. For both of their sakes. And when his moans became louder, she took the chance to graze her canines slightly against him, nails touching his thighs lightly before he thrust his hips up.
“Oh fuck...shit shhhhhit- R-Roza…” Bucky felt her whimper at the nickname, her little hum shooting vibrations around his cock and making him almost cum right then and there. The longer he looked at her, the more captivated he became, knowing that she had him wrapped around her little finger without even trying somehow creating a sense of peace in his mind. What he once feared to be done to him turned into a deep desire, from the way she rolled her tongue around his hard length to the little scratches her nails created on his thighs. Bucky was losing himself and although a part of him screamed for him to stop because this was wrong in a way, the rest of him begged him to take it further.
And he wasn’t sure if it was the idea of being at her mercy, because he knew as well as her that she could overpower him if she wanted, or that filthy thought of having her sink her teeth near his most sensitive spot that was causing him to pant and beg for her to keep going. To have such a being, a marvel created by the universe that defies all logic, grant him pleasure like he’s never dreamed of before, it was magnificent.
Bucky kept his gaze on her, studying her every move and committing it to memory, not out of fear, he would never fear her, just out of curiosity and more importantly, admiration and lust. He’s dreamed of having her right where she is for so long he couldn’t tell if this was also another cruel trick his mind conjured up to make him miserable. But as she continued her languid attack on him, he knew this was far too sinfully painful to be another dream.
“S-stop...doll stop- please..don’t wanna cum yet baby.” His voice came out husky, not wanting to push her away but knowing the night would come to an end if he didn’t. Rozalia gave him a last lick before moving to straddle him again, chills running down his spine because of how cold her milky, smooth skin contrasted with his warm body. He pulled her by her neck, delving his tongue into her mouth and exploring it like an oasis, almost as if he needed her to survive. And it was in that moment that realization washed over her; she would gladly, and without hesitation, die for this man if she had to.
The thought evaporated as soon as he rolled on top of her, metal arm locking her wrists above her head before he attacked her with kisses. “Roza-” The thick Russian accent shot to her core, the smile she wore letting him know she liked him calling her that very much. His hand cupped her tits harshly before his tongue rolled over a hard nipple back forth, over and over again until she ached for him. Her moans drove him crazy, his hot wet mouth grazing over her just as violently as she had not minutes ago. The more she squirmed underneath him, the harder Bucky became, wanting to hear her little sweet noises all night long.
“I- I want you. Bucky please..” She didn’t care how desperate she sounded, and she struggled against his arm, somehow knowing it turned him on that she played this little game with him. “Patience sweetheart..”
“L-let me feel your tongue in my pussy...ahhh haah yeah- fuck me James,” she spread her legs for him, arching her back against his tongue the lower he moved. Before she could say anything else, Bucky smiled at her and let go of her arms, the silent stare letting her know he wanted her to keep them there. As soon as his head was between her legs, she bucked her hips against him, chasing his mouth and wanting to feel more than his breath fanning over her shaking thighs. Bucky teased her, licking and sucking red marks on her thighs and laughing when she practically cried for him. His tongue was buried in her pussy in no time, having her scream for him over and over again. He learned she was much more sensitive than “normal” dames, his mean and harsh licks sending her spiraling into insanity within minutes.
When she couldn’t take it anymore, her hands tangled into his hair, tugging and scratching his head harshly because no matter how much she wanted him to stop, she needed him not to. It has taken her decades to finally allow herself such a pleasure. And here was this kind, beautiful man that was giving it to her like she was the only one worthy of it.
Bucky growled against her mound when she pulled on his hair, not afraid of handling her more aggressively than others because he knew very well she could take it. His grip on her waist tightened, not caring if he’d leave any bruises because the thought of knowing he couldn’t break her somehow turned him on. And as soon as she felt him suck and graze his teeth just a little over her stiff clit, she lost it, cumming hard around his mouth and rubbing herself harder on him because lord knows the pleasure was turning into pain but she’d gladly accept it any day.
“I wanna be in that tight pussy...now.” Bucky said as he sat up and licked his lips, the image of him wiping her juices off of his jaw making her wish he’d just already fuck her now.
“H-how do you want me?” The question was genuine and perhaps it was her tone of voice or the way she was looking at him, but Bucky’s cock twitched because of all the thoughts that flew through his mind.
“On your stomach.” The three simple words had her shaking, following his request in seconds because a part of her wanted him to rough her up. Bucky placed a pillow under her stomach, wanting her raised a little for him. When he looked back at him with those almost pitch black eyes, he lost his last ounce of control. With a few pumps of his cock and continuous rubbing of her cunt, he couldn’t wait any longer, teasing her entrance with his leaking tip before pushing in slowly.
And when his balls hit her ass, Bucky had to stop himself. She felt like nothing he’s ever felt before. Almost as if he was sinking his soul into thick honey that engulfed him the longer he stayed still.
“R-roza...fuck ahhh you’re...oh my god fuck I can’t-” Bucky’s arms held his weight up but the more her muscles clenched around him, the less control he had over his body. She, on the other hand, was bombarded with so many sensations. It’s been centuries since she felt such a deep connection like this, refusing to become attached, emotionally and physically, to another. But having him sink her into, mark her as his, feeling his cock spazzing and hitting her walls without so much as a single movement, it was more addicting than any blood she’d ever tasted.
Bucky waited until he felt her moving her ass against him before he started thrusting into her, somehow feeling as if he went deeper and deeper with every buck of his hips. It was an odd feeling, to feel her cool skin hit him everywhere while her pussy felt like a furnace wrapping around her. Bucky wanted nothing more than to tell her how she affected him, how alive he felt in this moment, how much he loved her. But he couldn’t form a coherent thought. Not when he was taking her in such an animalistic way.
Knowing she gave him the option of being in control made him fall in love with her even more. She knew what he needed without him voicing it.
He moved against her, changing the rhythm to make this last for as long as possible. Rozalia could feel his muscles moving against her skin, the heat radiating off of his body providing her with comfort she’s never felt before. And when his metal hand snaked around her neck to hold her cheek, she gasped. He turned her head to kiss her, wanting to have every inch of their skin touching and molding together. His lips fit perfectly with hers, harsh breaths and loud moans filling the room as they slowly became one.
Too desperate to feel nothing but him, Rozalia didn’t notice the shift in her eyes, the once bright green orbs turning gray before her eyes became completely black. When Bucky pulled away and looked at her, he cursed under his breath, the sight in front of him turning him on more than he should. But he refused to look away, wanting to see how much he affects her.
But she noticed the shift in his demeanor, the realization hitting her right before she looked away from him and hid into the pillows.
“No, don’t- don’t look away from me.” Bucky tried to turn her neck but she refused, afraid he’d finally figure out he doesn’t want her like this.
“James...I’m- you don’t want to see this. You don’t want to see me.” Her voice broke, making Bucky stop and force her to look back at him. “Please, let me see you. My Roza, let me look at all of you. Let me,” he hesitated before saying the next word, a part of him wanting her to understand how much he feels for her and not caring of the consequences, “love all of you.”
That seemed to do the trick, her head snapping and gazing into his cerulean eyes before he leaned down and kissed her again.
The air shifted in the room, with Bucky wanting to pour out his soul into her and Rozalia needing to have as much skin contact as possible. He pulled out and rolled her onto her side, hiking her leg up against his waist and telling her to wrap it around him. He nuzzled into her neck before he thrust into her again, this time a little harsher because now that they’ve laid down all the cards on the table, there was no more hiding.
Bucky could feel her close to cumming, wanting to make this last for as long as possible but knowing it wasn’t possible anymore. She felt too good wrapped tightly around him, her cunt inviting him to sink into her faster and harder with every move of his hip. Bucky wrapped his arm around her torso and pulled her closer to him, his metal fingers pulling on her hair as harshly as she had been before, cheeks sliding past one another and sweaty chests sticking together as he fucked into her.
His grunts edged her on, no longer caring that her mouth was wide open and her fangs were on full display, an action she’d thought too intimate prior to meeting him. Her fingers held onto his biceps, wanting to feel something more than just the hollowness in her heart.
“Fuck, doll…’m close. Sweetheart I’m so fuckin’ close…” He whispered into her ear, biting down into her neck and making her scream louder than before.
And then a thought passed through his mind and he refused to push it away. He knew he shouldn’t say it but something told him the two of them were past all stages of fear of rejection.
“Bite me.” Bucky moved on top of her, still sliding his cock in and out to chase his orgasm. When she didn’t reply, he grazed his fingertips over her cheeks, telling her again. Rozalia was taken aback by his comment, afraid this was just in the throws of passion and he’d regret asking her later. But when he said it again, more of a request than a question, she knew he wanted to truly become one with her.
How her kind showed commitment.
So when he leaned down and whispered his trust, she couldn’t deny him. Bucky picked up the pace, hips slamming into her at a violent rate and sending her into an abyss of pure pleasure. When she felt his muscles tightening around her waist, she knew he was close, choosing to bite him just as she came around his cock.
The second he felt her fangs dig into his skin, he came inside her, his cum shooting so deep into her he was sure it wouldn’t leak out of her. Between her cunt fluttering around him and her fangs driving him over the edge, Bucky was sure he has died and went to heaven.
And then he saw flashes of memories in front of him. They all happened so quickly and with no warning that he couldn’t focus or remember one specific one. But he could feel something else, something akin to a heart beating in front of him. And then a vivid image hit him like a freight train, an image he would not forget any time soon.
The second she retracted her fangs and pulled away, he suddenly felt empty. The pleasure has peaked so high he forgot what it felt like to not have her performing such an action.
Bucky fell on top of her, groaning when she spazzed around him a couple of times before he finally pulled out and laid next to her.
Moments passed before Rozalia turned her head to look at him, her eyes back to their normal color and her lips still tainted red. “Are you alright?” She worried a bit, seeing as his heart rate was much slower than normal and his expression grew tired. But when he hummed and smiled at her, she knew he was okay.
He asked her about the memories, heart clenching when she told him that was the moment she first realized how deeply in love she fell for him, telling him it was her favorite day to look back to.
“What am I to you?” Rozalia couldn’t help but ask this question, wanting to make sure this was all real and that it wasn’t a figment of her imagination.
“My angel.”
#bucky smut#bucky barnes smut#bucky x ofc#bucky fanfiction#vampire au#bucky x vampire!ofc#sebastian stan smut#sebastian stan
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Brendon’s P.O.V. : Chapter Sixteen
I paid no attention to the amount of force I used to slam the locker room door shut but judging from the way Corvey jumped out of his skin, it must’ve created a fairly loud bang. I didn’t hear it over the sound of my thumping heart.
“I’m not gonna kick your ass, ‘cause that would raise suspicions,” I spoke slowly and clearly, taking cautious, deliberate steps toward the pipsqueak in front of me. There was a slight tremor in his legs; I had to fight hard to supress a laugh at the sight. Weakling.
“But let me make one thing perfectly clear,” I continued, picking up my pace a little. Once I was close enough, I clamped my hands down on his shoulders and gave a small, sarcastic smile; he flinched at the impact, shutting his eyes. “Under no circumstance are you to ever touch her like that again, you hear me? She’s not yours, nor will she ever be, so back the hell off. You understand?”
He nodded vigorously and I could see the fear swirling around in his wide eyes. Good. He should be scared.
“Wonderful,” I flashed him a dazzling smile and stepped back, patting him once on the back, “then we’re done here.”
I spun around and started for the exit, hearing him sigh in relief. My hand was just about to grab the door handle when I remembered something.
“Oh, and,” I turned to look at him, “You’re not training her anymore. Not in this life or the next.”
~
I watched her as she brought one hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn; she was clearly half-asleep and I felt only slightly guilty for cutting her slumber time short. But contrary to what she might think, it wasn’t an unnecessary move. If I hadn’t woken her up to do this, she would’ve been back in the centre tonight with that imbecile Corvey – God, even thinking of him made me sick – and we couldn’t have that. No, we couldn’t. Not at all.
If anyone was going to be rolling around on the floor with her, damn straight it was going to be me.
She was tiredly rubbing her eyes now, trying to brush away the remnants of sleep as she creased her forehead. I noticed that her lips were pouted, and I turned away before I could get any debauched ideas.
I flexed my jaw as I began rolling my sleeves up and cleared my throat as I backtracked away from her, willing my mind to focus on the task at hand: her training.
“Let’s start with the basics. Reflexes.”
She sighed and continued rubbing her face. “I already did reflex training with Corvey,” she pointed out; I just barely bit back a growl.
Why did she have to go and bring him up? He was idiotic and incompetent; I don’t even know how he ever passed training. He could never have trained her properly – so why did she approach him in the first place?
Images from last night flashed in my mind – of him standing so close to her; of her smiling genuinely at him; of him touching her…
Fuck, it made me mad. It’s obvious that he has a thing for her – a pathetic, schoolyard crush – but he can’t have her. She’s not available for him to claim as his own. And I would crush him if he ever tried to pull a stunt like last night again.
And I think I made that pretty clear to him in the locker room last night.
But, I still had to make it clear to her.
“Yes, but,” I flicked my hand forward, sending the blade flying straight at her head, “I’m not Corvey.”
I didn’t want to kill her – obviously – so I purposefully aimed a few inches higher than the top of her hair. She wasn’t aware of this, and the way she was currently glaring at me, panting and eyes broadened by shock, showed that she had been sincerely scared for her life.
It was an irrational fear; I would never hurt her. Couldn’t if I wanted to. Not her. But she wanted to be trained, and so I had to prepare her for the worst.
I stared at her with a blank expression, noticing her jaw tightening, fists clenching, and chest heaving. Annnnnd cue the hateful yelling in three… two… one…
“You’re right. You’re not Corvey. You’re a fucking maniac. What the hell was that, Brendon?! You almost killed me.”
I rolled my eyes, starting to think some of Corvey’s stupid rubbed off on her. Did she honestly think I would kill her? My job is literally to prevent her from being killed.
“If I wanted to kill you, I would’ve aimed lower – for your heart. That way, if you ducked, the dagger would catch your head; you would’ve died either way,” I shrugged.
“Wow, okay. Thanks. Thank you for that,” she remarked sarcastically, irately ripping her jacket from her body and aimlessly tossing it to the side.
“It’s a pleasure.”
We spent the next forty-five minutes practicing her reflexes in hand-to-hand combat. She wasn’t too bad, I’ll admit, but she definitely wasn’t where she should’ve been after her previous bout of training. That’s just proof that Corvey was a god-awful trainer; she shouldn’t have gone to him.
I went relatively easy on her, making sure to hold back on the strength of my punches and kicks. Even so, I countered almost every move she made, and I could see her becoming increasingly unmotivated to continue.
I offered some words of encouragement as we went along, and that seemed to draw her back in when she started losing focus, but then her mind strayed for a millisecond too long, and she found herself knocked to the ground.
I felt a marginal pang in my chest as I watched her land with a harsh thud. Her hand flew to her ribcage and I almost caved and rushed over to pick her up, but I refrained, and a moment later she started pushing herself up.
“C’mon, (Y/N),” I sighed, making sure that my voice conveyed irritation and disappointment and mentally drowning out the microscopic amount of concern I had felt; neither of us needed me to show that. I did, however, extend a hand to help her up. “This is basic stuff.”
“Not according to Corvey,” she retorted, wincing as she rubbed her side, “He said that was Level Four stuff.”
Again with fucking Corvey! Motherfucker. Why won’t she stop bringing him up? Corvey this, Corvey that. Fucker is probably gonna headline my dreams tonight with the amount of times she’s mentioned him.
“Last time I checked,” I grit my teeth, not even bothering to mask my annoyance, “it’s me who’s training you. Not Corvey.”
“Yeah,” she said, furrowing her brows, “Why is that exactly?”
I knew exactly what she was asking, but I feigned innocence, raising my eyebrows in a silent request for her to elaborate. I would deny it to my death.
“I tried for weeks to get you to train me, and you refused. Then, as soon as I went to someone else for help, you decided that you would. Why?”
“I just changed my mind,” I stated simply. Which was the truth. I did change my mind. As for the reasoning behind that change… that was irrelevant.
“Yeah, obviously,” you snorted, “but why? Were you… jealous?”
Fucking fuck.
No, I was not jealous. Why would I possibly be jealous? Scientifically speaking, there are commonly three reasons for an individual to show signs of jealously.
One: insecurity. I am quite feasibly the least insecure person on these premises.
Two: obsessive-compulsive disorder and/or paranoia. Nope, don’t have either of those.
And three: a history of feeling jealous. Never in my twenty-three years on this earth have I ever been jealous of anyone or anything.
Ergo, I am not jealous, and she is delusional.
I let my head tilt back somewhat and scoffed before looking at her with a half-smirk. “Jealous?” I cocked a brow, “Why would I be jealous?”
“I don’t know,” she took a step towards me, “You tell me.”
“Believe me, sweetheart, there’s no reason for me to be jealous.”
“Then why the sudden change of heart?” she pressed, clearly wanting a proper explanation as to why I finally found it acceptable to me to train her. Sadly for her, she wouldn’t be getting one.
“Why not let me continue training with him?” she carried on, “I thought he was doing a pretty good job.”
Oh, well that’s fucking lovely. She had to go and say that. Now all I can see his fucking hand on her precious face. Honestly. I hope she scrubbed it after.
“I noticed,” I muttered, hardening my face.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she frowned.
“You two seemed to hit it off really well,” I said, a hint of venom in my tone, “Or do you just let every guy touch your face like that?”
“Wha…” she shook her head in perplexity before recalling what I was referring to; then, she snarled at me, “You were spying on us?”
“I wasn’t spying,” I corrected, “I just happened to be near enough at the time to see it.”
“So you are jealous!” she scoffed incredulously, poking me in the chest with a small smile. “I knew it!”
Maybe.
“I am not, nor will I ever be, jealous of him,” I spat.
“You spied on us! I think that’s a pretty clear indication of jealously.”
“For the last time,” I growled through clenched teeth, pulling my face taut, “I wasn’t spying! The Director sent me off duty early and since I’m your bodyguard, I came to look for you. When I got here, I saw you… with him.”
“And got jealous.”
Yes.
I inhaled and exhaled shakily before lowering my gaze and advancing on her. She kept up her taunting resolve – clearly believing she was right – but still backtracked as I got closer to her.
“(Y/N), I am S.H.I.E.L.D’s best agent for a reason. I’m stronger, faster, smarter, and more superior than Corvey will ever be. Anything he can do, I can do a million times better. You thought he was a good trainer? I’m a great trainer. The things he would’ve taken months to teach you, you can learn from me in one week. I have no reason to be jealous of him. I am better than him. In every. Single. Way.”
I meant every single word that I said. Every single one. And she knew it, too. She knew that all of it was true, and she knew that no one causes me to feel jealously.
No one.
Except her.
Maybe.
Sometimes.
Fuck, I don’t know! I don’t know anything right now, other than the fact that her and I are merely a fraction on an inch apart and it’s becoming progressively harder to not kiss the fuck out of her.
The way she was looking at me wasn’t helping either, and I swear to god I was about to slip up but thankfully, she spoke before I could.
“In every single way, huh?” she chewed on her lip.
Stop that, before I kiss you.
“Can you prove that?” she challenged.
My eyes narrowed infinitesimally for a second and carefully, I lifted my hand before gently and slowly running the outside of my index finger down her cheek. Her breath hitched in her throat, and her cheeks heat up, which didn’t go unnoticed by me.
“See?” I smirked, “Hotter touch.”
She didn’t reply and I stepped away, not trusting myself. “Now that that’s settled. Let’s get back to work.”
She was so responsive, fuck.
I’m screwed.
_______________________________
Thank you for reading x
#brendon urie#brendon urie x reader#bodyguard!brendon#bodyguard#marvel#patd#p!atd#panic at the disco#panic! at the disco#emo#music#band#bands#band members#band imagines#band member imagine#emo trinity#emo quartet#imagine#imagines#fanfic#fanfiction
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Unfiltered sweary mess: 507 edition
I had thoughts so I decided to this again. Let’s hope it doesn’t become a habit.
Let’s start with the Bellarke of it all, and the sheer joy of seeing them hustle up a plan together on the fly. AND LISTEN I am not on the #bellamysucksnow train, or the #bellarkeisdead train either and as such fair warning there is squee incoming. It feels like the core of the show has returned to us after s4’s barren years and IT IS GREAT. And honestly? I don’t care that romance isn’t in the air between them RIGHT NOW. I thought I would mind but I don’t. It feels right. It feels true to Bellamy, and it feels true to Clarke, and it feels exactly like the vibe I’d expect and want between two characters who love and respect each other and their choices, who have been apart for so long and need to reconnect. Let’s do right by Clarke and Bellamy, yeah? We’ve waited for 4 seasons (the last of which gave us sweet fa) we can wait a little longer.
And seriously, even if it turns out they are just beautiful co-leaders with a lot of professional respect for each other (yeah RIGHT) they could never, ever kill that relationship for me as long as they are in scenes together like this. I don’t care if they don’t bang (call me out on my lies someone), but the concurrent Bellarke scenes in the dining hall, and the triffid room, and then on Echo-watch just gave me so many OTP vibes. Bellarke are at their most effective when they’re together, even better when they have the support of their genius friends. And we got a return of the Bellarke dry-as comedy double act WTF @the100writersroom are you trying to be good at your jobs or something.
Top bantz, as we’d say in Essex.
Too bad the Bellarke unity ain’t gonna last, but thankfully, Bellarke are just as awesome when they are just…very angry and exasperated with each other ok, but DON’T HURT YOUR PRECIOUS SELF I MAY BE FURIOUS BUT WHEN DID YOU LAST SLEEP AND DO YOU NEED SOMETHING TO EAT
Great to have Monty back in the frame cutting through everyone’s bullshit. I thought he’d been relegated to a bit part this season. Oh ye of little faith. Does anyone realise that Monty is the biological weapon earth forgot? Put that angry face in a room with Octavia and see how long it takes for her to crack and wither from Monty’s externalised disappointment with everyone and everything.
Bellamy burning Octavia ow ow ow. I’ve already spoken about this at some length but damn that hurt. And it was deserved, but still spoke to the depth of his contempt for Blodreina.
Which brings me to…BELLARKE V BLODREINA: GRUDGE MATCH
And man, was this grudge match some time coming. To make sure the audience was VERY CLEAR on EVERYONE’S MORAL STANDING, the show helpfully prepped us with some little reminders that Bellamy helped commit a massacre, and Clarke did a load of horrible human testing in Becca’s lab last season. Thanks show.
So, all armed and loaded, the mud slinging began, and boy was it awesome. First of all Bellarke takes Octavia to task about the worms and TURNS OUT OCTAVIA DIDN’T KNOW which get a grip on power here Octavia because it’s slipping from your grasp faster than you can say Wonkru Barbecue (shoutout to @mego42 – your time is coming). But Miller obviously watched the earlier part of the show and recapped for Octavia just in time because she’s ready for that shit and fires everyone’s dark past back at them. Cue: Bellamy’s best frowny face and Eliza Taylor’s saddest, most regretful Clarke eyes.
Bellarke disarmed and cowed (for now) live to fight another war they don’t want to fight.
But Octavia’s grudge match continues in her office when Indra enters with the intention of being reasonable, which is exactly the kind of shit Blodreina has warned her about before so help her god.
Indra is, obviously, the Queen of Everything and My Heart and delivers some bitchass Truths as Indra is wont to do and Octavia rewards her by throwing what my mind remembers as a skull but was probably a paperweight because why would Octavia have a skull in her office *nervous laughter*
Indra leaves, still Queen of Everything and My Heart, but not before delivering a portentous warning about losing yourself in the dark, which obviously Octavia is not going to listen to because DAUGHTERS, MAN.
Talking of daughters, Madi trying to suck at training was the most adorbs thing I’ve seen in a long time, guys and I am subscribed to a LOT of cat blogs. And man I felt for her. Sucking at anything sucks, and sucking on PURPOSE is just the height of unfair. And she’s in a new school! And the other kids are mean! And maybe they eat people!
Serious question though: from whence did Madi learn her swordswomanship? Clarke? Helios? Roan? (too soon?).
But don’t blame Clarke, Madi! Clarke’s Madi feels are pretty much on a par with mine which means she wants to cry every time she looks at her earnest little face AND CLARKE I FEEL THAT SO HARD YOUR BABY IS ADORABADASS. Which also means MAMA MODE ACTIVATED when Vodka Aunt Octavia starts messing up that precious braid she put in Madi’s hair earlier.
Hey Vodka Aunt, you don’t just get to come in here and make executive choices about Madi’s career, especially given your past efforts at parenting *looks at Ethan*
Oh, oh, oh and WE GOT A RETURN OF THE MUSICAL INTERLUDE! It was like Knocking on Heaven’s Door and Early Seasons feels all over again. But I gotta say Jason, fresh from the Sense8 finale my musical interlude expectations are higher these days and I was a bit disappointed there wasn’t a dance off. Perhaps an orgy or an endgame B/C/E triad instead? *Wanheda jaw clench*
But anyway that whole sequence of Clarke sending Madi off to her first day of training sent me in to a spiral of sadness that lasted for a lot of minutes I wasn’t counting. It was very sad and I am sad about it. Poor Clarke. Just as well Octavia helped her remember she’s motherfucking Wanheda.
MY GIRL ECHO MY GIRLING UP THE HOUSE.
Let’s just take a moment to appreciate what a babe Echo kom Spacekru nee Azgeda is. First of all: EVIDENCE OF SPACE GIRL SQUAD and I am all here for that. Second of all Echo is officially the first person on the show to get one over of Colonel Charmaine Diyoza SOMEONE GET ME A FUCKING SHOT.
And listen up everyone who bashes at their keyboards dribbling with rage about the things other women like on television: I love ladies with swords and if you want an apology for that you’ll have to prise it out of my cold dead body. But can we just take a (second) moment to appreciate that for all of Echo’s badass sword skills, she is Clarke Griffining up this joint like a motherfucker. Echo is as Slytherin as Clarke and as sneaky as Clarke and as smart as Clarke and that manoeuvre she executed with Zeke and Raven was 100% a Clarke Griffin move, don’t @ me.
It’s almost like….they’re similar….on purpose….
Shout out to all the smart, insecure girls who aren’t sure if they belong. Learn to swordfight, use your brain, and get yourself a girl squad and a soft space dad boyfriend.
Sidebar: Clarke’s faith that Echo would take the eye down and her admiration when she does will keep me in Clecho feels for months.
But friends…I am the most fervent of Echo stans and Becho shippers and I am AFEARED. She is very much circling the abyss here and it gives me a sick feeling in my stomach. I believe Raven will forgive her (FOR WHAT CAN SOMEONE PLS ENLIGHTEN ME AS TO WHAT RAVEN IS SO PISSED ABOUT??) and I believe the rest of Spacekru will 100% understand what she did because it was presented to us as an understandable choice. But but but… what’s next? Diyoza ain’t gonna take the turn the other cheek approach to learning that Echo took down her eye in the sky. What if her next move is to make *Echo* her eyes in exchange for safe passage for Spacekru?
*sweats forever*
That seems like a Diyoza move. And like…where would that leave Echo with Bellamy? Her choice would be: tell him and risk the whole mission and/or turn him into a lying liar to his sister too, or not tell him and risk their entire relationship and hurt him very badly. I think I know which one my loyal girl would choose and how that would end.
Fuck fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck fuck.
*ugly crying*
I’m not ready.
Okay it’s time for a Raven rant. What the hell is going on with Raven this season? Raven has had some beautifully executed arcs in the past, and I am high key here for her to finally get some NC-17 action now she’s done all that Work On Herself, but if Raven’s arc in s5 amounts to RAVEN DIDN’T GET BONED FOR 6 YEARS AND NOW SHE’S GETTING BONED then Imma flip a table.
Sidebar#2 obviously Raven got boned on the Ring, it’s not like they would have had a space orgy without her, come ON.
And just… I’m sorry I don’t get the Zaven. When they released the s5 pics I thought WOWZA these two are gonna be gr9 together and LOOK HE’S A SPACE EXPLORER. How could this possibly go wrong? But somehow, they’ve managed to introduce a character who, on his own, is 10x as compelling as Wick, but has about -100% of the chemistry with Raven. Which is???? Some kind of alchemy??? how has that happened? I love Zeke! I love Raven!!! They’re both MAGNETIC on screen. On paper they should be a perfect fit but it’s like whenever they’re in the same scene together I have the sudden urge to check my emails.
And someone, please, just tell me what work Zaven is doing for either of these characters. What’s Raven’s conflict? How does Zeke resolve it? Is it *literally* Raven being presented with a hot dude with a similar skill set? Sorry I’m out.
And before anyone comes at me with the usual packet of whining about how Echo has stolen all of Raven’s screentime, I’d beg you all to remember that there is no law saying that one woman’s time on tv has to be at the expense of another and this is a GIANT SEXIST TRAP DO NOT FALL FOR IT.
Talking of out, Kabby is also circling the drain and [averts eyes from discourse].
But I’m calling Diyoza’s ship name, and if she bangs Kane I hereby pronounce it TEQUILA [whatever Kane’s ship name is, someone hmu].
OK I need to talk about Gaia now before I get shot down by a thunderbolt. The girl creeps me tf out but I SOMEHOW LOVE HER NOW. This is new and unnerving because feverish religious types are not usually my jam ESPECIALLY if they present Clarke’s daughter with a creepy sacred flash drive that they want to insert in her neck, but somehow Tati Gabrielle nails that line, even if my reaction seeing the Flame was exactly the same as my reaction to seeing the worms.
But I believe Gaia’s intentions, while creepy, are pure. And WHO PICKED UP on how fluid her loyalty is? She will serve Blodreina faithfully as long as she reigns. Huh.
In other news McCreary, and more importantly McCreary’s undercut, were absent from this episode I hope they are both enjoying Memori’s couples counselling retreat. I look forward to seeing his glazed expression next week as I cry my Becho tears.
#rach reviews#507#usm#is the tag#the100#bellarke#clarke griffin#becho#bellamy blake#octavia blake#echo kom azgeda#raven reyes#morning reblog
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“Workplace Lover” Pt. 1
I was working for this inventory company for a few months when I was promoted to inventory manager. I was assigned to certain stores and pretty much had my team together when they decided to hire a bunch of people. The downside to having new people on my team was the pace slowed down due to me training them. No matter in what company you may work for when you get promoted there are going to be haters and people just downright salty because they didn’t get the position. Either way, I was happy but my love life sucked monkey balls, I couldn’t find a man to save my life. I take part to blame in that because of the insecurities that I dealt with at the time.
I got up for work this particular morning feeling awful, I went out the night before, got in at around 2:30 am and had to get up at 6 am for work. (Wasn’t one of my best choices.) When I made it to the pick-up spot my team was looking defeated as well, so I knew this was going to be a long day. I went and got all the equipment together and loaded it into one of the vans to leave. The new people showed up shortly afterward and we were ready to hit the road. I had this one friend Ron (straight guy) that I always shot the shit with every day. He would always seem to make the day easy for me by doing stupid shit that just hyped up all of us.
We made to the job site and began working, I had about 5 out of the 8 new people that no matter what I did, they just couldn’t seem to catch on to add and subtract. In the ones that I was going to definitely keep, there was this one guy named Alton, he was brown skin, had dreads, a deep voice, and a gorgeous smile. He was the most impressive, not just because he was sexy but because he actually took direction well. Once I showed him what to do, it was only a few times he came to me for something after that.
On our lunch break, I was eating at a nearby food joint with my homie Ron when Alton and a few other people walked in. I was so engulfed in Alton’s looks and the way he walked that I was totally ignoring Ron.
“Nigga, did you hear me?” He said throwing a fry at me.
“No, my bad what did you say?” I said embarrassed.
“I said that since we off tomorrow we should go to the Daquiri Café and get fucked up.”
“I don’t know about that, I had enough to drink last night to last me the rest of the year.” I said laughing.
“Punk ass, come on man join ya boy and live a little.” He said pleading, and after a lil back and forth I finally agreed. He was right tho, he would ask me to go out with him and his girl all the time, but I always found an excuse not to go.
“Aye, can I join yall?” Alton said approaching us with his food on his tray.
“Sure,” I said looking at the food on his tray. “You sure you can eat all that before it’s time to go back?”
“Probably but if I can’t then I will just pack this shit up and take it home.” He said after sitting down, we all shared a laugh together and spent the rest of our break getting to know our new team member.
We finally got thru the day, to say I was beyond tired was an understatement. I already sent a van full of people home and the only people left was the audit team. We made sure all the counts were accounted for as well as correct any mistakes that were made. This process could take anywhere from 30 mins to 4 hours depending on the corrections that needed to be made. Ron and Alton stayed back to help with this process and that made it easier for me because they kept me laughing.
“So, Alton since you apart of our team now, and since we all have the same schedule…... I was thinking that you should join Jaye and me at the Daquiri Café tonight for some drinks and bitches.” Ron said.
“I don’t know about the bitches’ part because as you and I both know yo girl will kick both of us in the dick if she finds out.” I said laughing.
“I’m game, I wasn’t doing shit tonight anyway.” Alton said. I wasn’t too sure about this because even though Ron knew I was gay, I didn’t like to hang around new people who didn’t know about my lifestyle. That could turn out really bad or just make it awkward while working.
“Cool, they have two we can choose from but since Jaye is technically our boss I vote he choose which one we go to,” Ron said smirking.
“I can’t fucking stand you and I’m not your boss, I’m only your supervisor while we work in the stores, I can’t fire or hire nobody just write you up and make a recommendation for your termination that’s it.” I said laughing.
“Stop lying nigga, I looked at your computer earlier and I saw that you got rid of some of the people that came today.”
“Shut up, that’s private information and while in training and since I’m still the lead trainer I do get to say who stays and who goes but I had to get rid of them because they just…… I don’t know maybe someone else can help them, but I can’t anymore.”
“So, was I on that list of people? I mean just keep it real.” Alton said with a nervous look on his face and I smirked.
“No, you weren’t if that was the case you wouldn’t be here right now…… enough of all this bullshit talk I need yall to go look for these sections that haven’t come in yet.” I said hanging them the list of things I needed to be checked.
After making it home I was beyond tired, all I wanted to do was lay down in my bed and sleep until the following week. That was short lived because just when the sleep was getting good my phone started ringing. I grabbed it to see it was my boos calling.
“Hey, I need some information about the people you switched and the ones you wanna keep.” She said after I picked up the phone.
“The ones I wanna keep had absolutely no problem catching on to the work but the other five were just horrible at taking direction. I didn’t suggest that they should be fired I just wanted them to go to Bobbi or Angie team because they work in smaller stores and they can focus more on them than I could.”
“Ok, we can do that but just for future references…... don’t involve me in your crap, you have every right to assign whomever you want to any team if you feel like they would be an asset to that team. Oh, and you did an amazing job today, I got nothing but good reports from the district manager.”
“Tell me something new but I will talk to you later I have some things to take care of.”
“Ok see you on Monday.” She said hanging up the phone. I looked at the time and realized that it was almost time to go meet up with Ron and Alton down the street at the Daquiri Café. I went took a shower and pulled out some clothes, no sooner than I got dressed Ron called my phone.
“Damn can I put some draws on before you get to rushing me out the house?” I said laughing.
“Nigga you should have been had yo shit on……. I’m outside so bring yo ass and open the door.” He said hanging up, I threw on some socks and went to open the door before I had to kick his ass. “You never on time for nothing nigga, you were late for work this morning, and now you just now getting dressed.”
“If you going to be bitching all night then you can beat ya feet motherfucker.” I said walking back to my room, while walking I got hit in the back with a pillow off the couch. “You better stop before I whoop yo ass and put my shit back in the right spot too.”
I walked into my room tempted to just say fuck it and call it a night, but I made a promise and I was going to keep it. I walked out the room to find that this nigga took all my pillows off my couch and tossed them on the floor. This nigga always doing stupid shit when he come over here, like the last time he came over here he put dish soap in my fish tank which killed all my damn fish. He did buy me some more but it’s stupid shit like that that works my nerves with him. I didn’t say nothing to him, I just walked into the kitchen and filled up a pot with hot water and walked back into the living room.
“Yo you better not throw that shit on me.” He said holding up one of the pillows.
“You got 30 seconds to fix my couch you jackass.” I said still holding the pot, he quickly put all the pillows back on my couch and I started laughing.
“You never play fair tho Jaye, why would you wanna throw hot ass water on me before we go out that shit foul man.” He said laughing.
“Because you always doing stupid shit, that’s why I’ma stop you from coming over here.” I said walking to the door.
“Whatever let’s go that nigga probably already waiting on us.”
“Ok but you driving because I’m still tired.”
We made our way to the Daquiri Café in no time at all because as I said earlier it was literally down the street from my house. When we walked in I spotted Alton sitting at the bar, I thought he was sexy earlier but now that I see him in regular clothes…… this nigga is drop dead gorgeous. I had no idea how I was going to get thru this evening without staring at him the whole night. We walked up to the bar where he was sitting and sat down, Alton turned his head and looked in our direction.
“About time yall showed up, I thought yall flaked out on me.” He said laughing.
“No, but there is something you should know about our boss here……. His ass always late to everything. I got over to his house and his ass wasn’t even dressed yet.” Ron said laughing.
“Well unlike you two bastards I had more work to do when I got home and plus I was still tired from last night. Yall lucky I’m even here right now.” I said flagging down the bartender. We all placed our order and sat there just talking like we had been friends for ever.
“So how long you been doing Inventory?” Alton asked me.
“For about a year now, it wasn’t my first choice but when I was offered the job, they gave me an offer that I couldn’t refuse.” I said sipping from my cup. “Overall, it’s been good, but I don’t think I wanna make a career out of it like Doris and Linda, but it pays the bills and leave me with extra in my pocket.”
“Cool, this is new to me I’m used to working fast food or doing lil odd jobs from temp services.”
“You have great work ethics, unlike some people I know.” I said looking at Ron.
“Aye fuck you nigga I’m the best person you have on your team so miss me with the bullshit or I’ma have to beat yo ass.”
“The only thing you can beat is yo meat nigga, don’t start your bullshit.” I said and we all bust out laughing.
“How long yall been cool? It seems like yall brothers or something.” Alton asked and the way he said ‘something’ didn’t sit right with me but I wasn’t going to think on it too much.
“Before my promotion we worked a few jobs together, he has been a thorn in my side ever since.”
“Yea right nigga, but Jaye is a down right cool as dude, he will do whatever he can to help anyone just as long as they trying to do shit for themselves.”
“That’s what’s up, but let’s go get a game of pool in and get this shit crunk.”
We played pool, got some food, had more drinks than I wanted to have, and had a damn good time just shooting the shit. The night was going good until Ron got a call from his girl and what ever they talked about had him in a sour mood for a bit.
“What’s going on Ron?” I asked him.
“She pissed off at me because in her words she never gets to see me until I’m horny or whenever I make time but that’s a lie because I was with her before I came to get you and she knew that we were hanging tonight.”
“Ok well let’s cut this night short and you go fix things with your girl because I don’t have time for her kicking both our ass.”
“Man fuck that, she will be just fine, I’m not about to keep catering to her bullshit every time she gets in one her moods.” He said ordering another round of drinks.
“You not gone learn until that girl murder yo ass but its your shot.” I said picking up my pool cue.
The night went on and we cut the drinks off because Alton looked drunk as hell and Ron was getting there. I had an extra room at my house, but I wasn’t to sure about letting either one of them sleep over. Ron wasn’t going to stay any way if push came to shove, he was going to call his girl to come get him and I take his car home, but Alton I knew nothing about so that was a definite no on his part.
“If this bitch sends me one more text, I’ma go over there and throw her phone in the middle of the street.” Ron said showing me all the text messages between him and her. I scrolled up reading the messages, but I went to far up and saw some pictures they sent each other. Let’s just say I see why she so paranoid because Ron had some serious meat down there.
“Umm…... just drop me off at the house and you go be with your girl bruh.” I said reluctantly giving him his phone back.
“I’m not ready to go and if you don’t wanna leave right now I can bring you home and let this nigga go get his shit together.” Alton said catching me off guard.
“Jaye don’t like people knowing where he stays so we can just do this some other time.” Ron said drinking the last of his drink.
“Nah it’s cool bruh, you go take care of that and call me later.” I said dapping him up.
Ron left us at the Café while he went to go make sure his girl was good, no matter what I did I couldn’t shake the image of his dick out my head. It was the prettiest dick I had seen in a very long time, I know I shouldn’t have kept thinking about it, but I couldn’t help it.
“You ready to go.” Alton said bringing me out of my thoughts.
“Umm yea…... but can you drive because I don’t wanna spend the rest of my night laid up in a hospital room.” I said laughing.
“Yea I got you, I aint that messed up.” He said laughing.
We left out and made it to my house in one piece, I thought about it and there was no way I was going to let this dude drive home drunk. I told him that he could crash on the couch and leave in the morning when he woke up. I went into my room to get him an extra cover and some shorts to sleep in, when I went back into the living room this nigga had kicked off his shoes and was laying on the couch watching tv.
“I got you a cover and some shorts to sleep in, there is food and drinks in the fridge as well, just don’t touch my cokes.” I said placing the stuff on the couch.
“Or you can go get comfortable as well and pour us some more drinks, I know you got liquor in here.” He said smirking, against my better judgement I went and threw on some night clothes and walked back into the living room. He had changed into the shorts I gave him, but he didn’t have a shirt on, his body was on point and I was stuck in one spot staring at him. “What you looking at nigga?” he said laughing, I hung my down in embarrassment and walked into the kitchen. I poured us some drinks and walked in the living room.
“Umm you need a shirt to put on?” I asked after handing him his drink.
“Nah, I don’t like sleeping in shirts I feel like I’m being suffocated.” He said laughing.
We started drinking and watching tv for a while, I looked at the time and it was now 3 in the morning. I stood up and staggered a lil bit from the drinks I consumed. I shook off the feelings, looked at his body one last time and started to walk to my room before he stopped me.
“If you wanna look you don’t have sneak just look.” He said smiling. I was taken back by his comment, it caught me off guard to the point where I ran right into the wall.
“You aint all that nigga but goodnight I’m going to bed.”
“I guess weakling.” He said laughing.
“Unlike you, I didn’t get much rest last night or when I got off so excuse me if I’m tired, now go to bed before I punch you in the face.” I said laughing.
“Don’t get fucked up, but I hear ya take yo tired ass to bed.” I didn’t bother saying nothing back I just went to my room and laid across my bed.
The thoughts of Ron’s dick flashed back to my mind as well as the comment that Alton made. Maybe I was drunk and overthinking things, but it sounded like he was flirting with me. the more I thought about it the more I had to find out what he meant by that comment. I got up and walked back into the living room where he was still finishing off the last of his drink.
“What did you mean by the comment you made a few minutes ago?” I asked him standing in the door way.
“Man, what yo drunk ass talking about?” He said laughing.
“About me staring at your body.”
“Oh, I meant that I noticed you staring at me a few times but when you saw me you tried to act like you wasn’t, so I said that if you wanted to look at me then just do it.” He said still laughing.
“Whatever, I look at what I want and who I want so what’s it to you?”
“It’s nothing to me, but I thought you was going to bed?”
“I am why you wanna join me?” I said and almost slapped the hell out myself for saying that shit.
“You probably would like that wouldn’t you?” He said laughing.
“Whatever, goodnight Alton.” I said walking back to my room.
I turned on my tv and laid under the covers, I couldn’t believe that I actually said that stupid shit to this dude. He didn’t go off on me but still I never said nothing like that to a straight guy before so that alone made me feel dumb as hell. I closed my eyes and began to fall asleep, a few seconds afterwards I heard my door open. When I opened my eyes, Alton was walking towards me, he didn’t say anything, he just walked to my bed and climbed in. before I could ask him what the hell he was doing he pressed his lips to mine and all rationality went out the window. Was this really happening? What am I thinking right now? How would this affect us at work? All these things went thru my mind, but my body had another mind of it’s on.
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