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upat4amwiththemoon · 8 months

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The stars

Summary: I see my lover when I look at the stars.

Pairing: Carol Danvers x female!reader

Warnings: sexism, men, it’s the 80s, some angst

Word count: 3902

a/n: second chance romance trope, I’m so happy with this you guys!!

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @natashamaximoff69

masterlists | guidelines

1985

Pancho’s bar wasn’t the fanciest place to work at as a young woman, especially because most of the customers are men from the air force. Their favorite past time besides drinking is trying to seduce Y/N, and get her number. But she isn’t interested in them, and never will be, though that’s something she’ll keep to herself. At least the constant flirting leads to good tips, which will eventually help her get out of the bar.

Y/N dries a glass with a rag now that she has some downtime. The rush time will start soon, so she wants to prepare for it to the best of her abilities. There are few regulars sitting either at a table or by the bar, but she knows they’ll let her know if they need anything, otherwise they like to quietly drink to their sorrows.

When the bell by the door rings, Y/N quickly glances at the new customers way, she only sees the air force logo on their clothes, making her roll her eyes. They’re out early today. She sets the cleans classes to their places and washes her hands, taking a deep breath, she gets ready for the onslaught of vulgar words.

“Hey, could we get two beers?”

Her head snaps up when she hears the feminine voice. Two women are standing in front of her with the air force clothes on and friendly smiles on their faces. Y/N stares at them with wide eyes for a moment. Sure every now and then women wonder into the bar, but she has never seen air force women come in.

Y/N regains her composure and grabs two beer glasses. “Sure thing! Which beers would you like?” Her customer service voice is cheery and slightly more high pitched than her normal one.

“Sierra Nevada, please.”

“Coming right up.” As Y/N moves to the taps to pour the beers, the two women start whispering and throwing looks between each other. Without Y/N noticing, the blonde woman’s gaze moves to places her eyes shouldn’t go. “Here you go.” She sets the beers in front of them.

“Thanks,” the woman glances at Y/N’s name tag, “Y/N. I’m Carol.” She hands some bills to pay for both of the drinks. “And this is Maria.” Carol states when she gets nudged to her side by the other woman.

“Nice to meet you.” Y/N says, her voice slower as she tries to figure out her intentions. Carol’s tone is similar to the multiple men who like flirt with her, though more genuine sounding, but surely that’s not what she is doing with her. “Here’s your change.”

“Keep it.” Carol winks before she and Maria go over to a table and sit down, leaving flustered Y/N at the bar.

She pockets the tip and start rearranging the dishes, trying to occupy her mind from wandering to incredibly good looking Carol.

When the clock strikes midnight, the bar is already at full swing. People are dancing to the loud music coming from the jukebox, and occasional bursts of laughter can be heard from the tables full of men, drunk men.

Y/N has been moved from behind the bar to the floor, bringing back empty classes and taking people’s drink orders. Because the other workers are men, they believe having a woman on the floor is better for business.

“Hey, sweetheart!” A drunken air force soldier shouts from a table full of them. He is waving his hand around in a come here motion. With a sigh, Y/N puts on her best smile and makes her way over to their table. “How much for a pretty girl like you to sit with us?” He waves a wad of cash in the air, his mouth formed in a grin that show his teeth. The others are staring at the two like it’s the best entertainment they’ve ever seen.

“Unfortunately I don’t have time to sit with customers. Is there anything else I could get you?” She smiles, holding a tray under her arm. She wants out of the situation, not liking the feeling of all the men’s eyes on her.

“Oh, come on, sweetheart.” The way the man says sweetheart makes Y/N want to gag. “Aren’t you supposed to do anything the customer want, eh? Besides, girls love money, don’t they?”

“I have to go help other customers, let me know if you want more drinks or something to eat.”

As Y/N goes to walk away from the table, the man grabs her arm. “Well hold on a second,” he slurs his words, “I ain’t done with you yet.”

Huffing, she glares at the man. She’s starting to get annoyed. “Listen, mister, I’m working right now, and have to attend to other customers as well.” Her voice has lost its cheery tone. “So, let me go.”

“Ooh, feisty!” One of the other man at the table comments. It makes the other laugh loudly, and enrages Y/N. She is aware this is a man’s world, but she is not going to be their entertainer.

Before Y/N can retaliate, someone else steps in to her rescue. “Hey. She said to let her go.” Carol stands next to her with her back straightened and shoulders pulled back. “So let her go.” Her voice is low, and her eyes are cold. She looks like someone you don’t want to mess around with.

“Well look at you,” the man scoffs, “it’s the wannabe soldier.” He sneers.

“Let the lady go, I’m warning you.”

“Oh, you’re warning me?” He stands up, still holding onto Y/N’s arm. All the humor has left him. “And what are you going to do about it?” He stands slightly taller than Carol, but it doesn’t seem to deter her.

The tension between the two start to grow. Y/N stands there, frozen, keeping her eyes on Carol. She doesn’t want to deal with this right now, her shift is supposed to end soon.

Suddenly, Carol raises her fist, and punches the man square in the jaw. He stumbles backwards into the chair he was sitting in, finally letting go of Y/N. “You bitch!” He shouts, wiping blood away from his lip. He goes to stand up, but before the situation escalates any further, one of the other bar workers come to escort him out.

“You okay?” Carol turns to look at Y/N once the men are out of the bar.

“Yeah,” she rubs the spot the man was holding onto, “thanks for helping.” Her mouth grows into a small smile. “That was kinda amazing.”

Grinning, Carol shrugs. “I have a things for saving pretty ladies who happen to work at this bar.”

Y/N lets out a small laugh as she shakes her head. “Okay, superhero.” Her voice is playful, but she can feel her cheeks flushing. “I have to get back to work now.”

“When do you get off?” Carol follows Y/N around while she picks up empty glasses.

“In twenty minutes.”

“I’ll walk you home,” she states, “me and Maria, I mean. You shouldn’t walk alone this late at night.”

Y/N bites the inside of her cheek. She glances at Carol, feeling warmth rush over her body when she sees the hopeful look on her face. “Alright. I’ll see you in twenty.” Giving her a smile, she returns back behind the bar.

Carol has a huge grin on her face as she stares at Y/N work. “What did I miss?” Maria walks over to her, having been occupied by beating a man’s ass in pool.

“We’re walking her home.”

Maria glances at Y/N, and nudges Carol’s side with a smirk. “You like her.”

“Maybe.”

1987

The front door of Y/N’s small, crappy apartment slams shut as she comes home from her shift at Pancho’s bar. It’s late at night, Y/N is exhausted, and she is sweaty, and she just wants to fall asleep without worrying about anything.

She throws her keys somewhere on top of the dresser she has next to her front door, and kicks her work shoes out of her feet. “Jesus!” A shout leaves out of her mouth when she turns around. Carol is standing there with a sheepish smile and a bouquet of flowers. “You scared the crap out of me.” She mumbles, holding a hand on her racing heart. “What are you doing here?”

“Sorry.” Carol sets the flowers next to Y/N’s key. “You gave me a key, so I wanted to surprise you. I didn’t remember you were working so late.” Her voice isn’t radiating the confidence it usually is. It’s softer and nervous.

The bouquet is big, it has more flowers Y/N has ever gotten before, and it’s wrapped with pink paper. “Thank you.” She smiles, picking up the bouquet and going to her so-called kitchen to put the flowers in a vase.

Carol follows her, staying close by, but still giving her space, she can see how tense Y/N’s body is. “Tough day at work?”

“Something like that.”

It turns quiet while Y/N fills a vase with water from the tap. The apartment doesn’t have any separate rooms besides the bathroom. All the kitchen appliances, a bed, small couch and a television are within reach of each other. It’s definitely not something Y/N wants to spend her whole life in, but she can survive in it, and that’s enough for now.

“How long were you waiting?” The vase gets set down to the single counter she has in the kitchen area.

Glancing at the clock, Carol hums. “Like, a couple of hours, maybe.”

“Carol,” Y/N sighs and rubs the space between her eyes, “you should’ve gone to sleep, don’t you need to be at the base tomorrow?”

“I took a day off.”

“Why would you do that?”

“To spend time with you.” The way Carol’s voice is so gentle makes Y/N want to cry after the day she has had.

Today’s shift felt ten times worse than any other shift in the past, it was full of drunk men and angry customers who genuinely believed in the fact that customer is always right, even when they aren’t. On top of that, her manager thinks the customers are more important than his employees, so he always found a way to satisfy the angry customers, which made them see Y/N as the bad guy.

“Hey,” Carol’s hands go to her cheeks, rubbing them softly, “why are you crying?”

“Sometimes I can’t handle it all.” She gets pulled into a warm embrace. “I was supposed to get out of here ages ago and see the world, but I just can’t get out of here.” Y/N sobs quietly, trying to hold herself back so she wouldn’t ruin Carol’s clothes with her tears and snot.

But Carol doesn’t care. One of her hands is rubbing Y/N’s back, while the other rests at the back of her head. She stays quiet, letting Y/N sob it all out in peace.

The two have been officially seeing each other for a while now. For the first year and a half they mostly danced around each other, both too anxious to make the first move in case they got the wrong impression, and the other person wasn’t interested in women after all. However, during that time, they became very close friends, so when Carol finally did do the first move—thanks to Maria—they moved forward pretty quickly.

Once Y/N tears start to subside, Carol whispers, “take a shower, I’ll make you a snack and ready your bed for us, okay?” Y/N nods, gives her a small peck to the cheek, and makes her way towards the bathroom.

Carol and Y/N are laying on top of each other on the bed as they watch a random movie that’s on one of the night channels. They should be asleep, but they really wanted to spend time with each other, as they don’t have a lot of opportunities to do so.

“Can i ask you something?” Y/N’s quiet voice almost goes past Carol.

“Yeah.”

“Why air force?”

“I’ve always wanted to fly.”

“Isn’t it scary?”

“No.” Carol smiles. She loves the feeling of being free in the air, having the possibility to go anywhere in the world she desires. Y/N hums quietly, not saying anything. “Why do you ask?” Carol tries to move her head in a way she’d be able to see Y/N’s face in the light coming from the television, while not disturbing her position on top of her.

“I just think it’s dangerous is all.”

“Are you worried about me?” She grins.

Y/N’s hand is resting under Carol’s shirt, tracing different shapes on her side. “Kind of hard not to be when i’m in love with you.” She whispers. The grin on Carol’s face falls at the words. She isn’t sure if she even heard her correctly, but she really hopes she did. Y/N moves her head up to see her. “I don’t want to lose you.”

The sentence assures Carol she heard correctly. “You won’t lose me, because I’ll always come back home to you. I love you.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise.”

They kiss, both feeling the smiles on each other’s faces. Carol tightens her arms around Y/N as they pull away. She closes her eyes and listens to the soft sounds of Y/N’s breathing melting in with the sounds of the television, as they fall asleep.

1989

Y/N paces around her house, ruining her nails by biting them. Her eyes are locked on her phone. She is waiting for a call, from anyone, as long as someone calls her and tells her she is overthinking things, that Carol is okay. She has called Maria three times by now, and the air force base once, but none of the calls have been successful.

Carol was supposed to come over four hours ago, straight from work, but she hasn’t arrived yet, nor has she called Y/N to let her know she’ll be late, that’s what she usually does.

Groaning, Y/N picks up the phone and punches in Maria’s number, calling her again. “Come on, come on.” She mumbles, tapping her foot to the ground in a rapid pace. “Damn it!” The phone drops to the table with a crash, few plastic pieces flying off of it from the impact.

No one is answering.

She sits down to the couch, it creaks slightly every time someone moves on it, which had led to some uncomfortable make out sessions with Carol.

Most of her nails are already too short to bite, so she moves to the skin around her them, biting them until she bleeds. Her eyes are locked onto the muted television, desperately trying to distract herself from her thoughts. She is aware of her tendency to overthink and catastrophize things, she always thinks Carol is dead if she hasn’t called by the time she promised to, but that was never the actual situation. This is the same case. Carol isn’t dead, she just got caught up at the base. Nothing horrible has happened.

A knock on the door makes her body relax. Carol is finally here. She lets out a relieved laugh and goes to open the door, however, her face turns to a frown once she notices Maria standing behind it.

“Hey, where’s Carol?”

Maria looks tired. “Can I come inside?” As Y/N nods, she steps in and looks at the floor. “I think you should sit down.”

“Maria-“

“Please,” she looks up at her, “sit down.”

Y/N sits back down on the couch, while Maria stays standing up. She is gathering her thoughts while trying to take deep breaths. “Carol volunteered to pilot with Doctor Wendy Lawson on something important, and the plane, uhm..it-“

“Don’t you dare say it, Maria.” There are tears gathering in the corners of Y/N’s eyes. She knows where this is going, but she wishes she didn’t.

“The plane crashed.” Maria sits down next to Y/N when she starts properly crying. “They couldn’t find anyone, Carol is classified dead. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I wanted to come tell you because no one else would’ve.” No one else knows about their relationship.

Not being able to say anything, Y/N just leans against Maria, who has started crying as well. The person they both consider closest to them, is dead.

1995

It has been a week since Carol helped the Skrulls to get out of the Kree’s line of fire, which means it’s been a week since she got her memories back. Ever since then, only one thing has been in her mind, her lover.

It’s early morning as Carol and Maria drink coffee in the latter’s kitchen, Monica still sound asleep upstairs. “What happened with Y/N when I disappeared?” Carol asks, her voice quite hesitant.

Maria sets her cup down. “I’m not sure. She was obviously pretty devastated when I told her what had happened.”

“She doesn’t still work at Pancho’s, does she?”

“I don’t think so,” Maria frowns, “but Carol, I haven’t talked to her in a long time. She stopped answering my calls three years ago. I don’t know where she is, or how she’s doing.”

Sighing, Carol stands up. “I have to find her.”

Naturally, the first place Carol goes to is Y/N’s apartment, though she really hopes she won’t find her there, that she moved on and started travelling the world like she planned to.

She knocks on the door and waits. Nothing happens, so she knocks again, just in case. She’s almost ready to let out a sigh of relief, but soft sound of footsteps coming from inside the apartment stop her. As the steps grow closer, a small, selfish part of her wishes it’s Y/N who opens the door.

Somehow she feels more pain than relief when the door opens, and Y/N stands before her.

They stare at each other, both stunned by the sight in front of them. Y/N has bags under her eyes, and her hair is messy. She is wearing an old t-shirt that once belonged to Carol, her legs are bare.

She goes to slam the door closed, thinking she has finally gone mad, but Carol’s hand stops it from moving. “You aren’t real.” Y/N’s voice is shaky. Her eyes are closed, she doesn’t want to see the person standing in front of her, because it can’t possibly be Carol.

“I’m real.” Carol whispers, but Y/N only shakes her head as an answer. “I didn’t die, I was captured by Krees after we crashed.”

“You aren’t making any sense, you aren’t real.”

“Can you let me in, please?” Gently, Carol sets her hand on top of Y/N’s hand, that is still holding onto the door. The touch makes Y/N open her eyes, and turn them towards Carol. She stares at her for a long while before opening the door wider.

As Carol walks inside the familiar apartment, she looks around for any changes, but it looks exactly the same as it did six years ago. She hates it. While Carol walks deeper into the tiny apartment, Y/N stays by the front door. Her arms are crossed over her chest in a protective kind of way.

“You weren’t supposed to stay here.”

“I couldn’t leave y-“ she stops herself, “Carol.” She isn’t entirely sure if the woman in her house truly is her Carol. “What happened? Who are the Kree?”

“It’s a long story.” She has a gentle grin on her face, one that reminds Y/N so much of the way Carol used to look at her. “You might want to sit down for it.” Y/N shakes her head, staying right where she is. Carol frowns, but nods, sitting down to the couch. It still creaks anytime weight gets put on it. “Shorter version of it is: when we crashed, Dr. Lawson told me the truth about her mission before he was shot by a Kree. Before he could kill me too, I destroyed an engine, which made me absorb energy of a Tesseract, so the Kree took me with him to their planet Hala. I was integrated to their society, I had no memories of my human life. A bunch of years later, I crashed back to Earth, a lot of fighting happened, I discovered my true power and my memories, and helped the Skrulls.”

“I don’t know what any of that means.” Y/N whispers. Any time Carol used to talk about air force things with her, she felt dumb, but all of this is making her think they aren’t even speaking the same language anymore.

“I was in space, and I have powers now.”

“Like a superhero?”

Carol smiles, nodding. “Yeah, I’m a real life superhero now.”

“You already were a superhero in my eyes.”

Standing up, she takes a few tentative steps towards her. All she wants to do is hold her, kiss her, tell her she’ll never leave her again. But Carol can still see the hesitation in Y/N’s eyes, she can see the years of pain and exhaustion in her expression.

“But then you died.”

Carol stops. She’s close to Y/N, but too far away to touch her. Oh, how desperately she just wants to feel her soft skin under her palm again, even if the years without her have hardened it. “I’m here now.” She pleads with her eyes—please believe me.

“You won’t stay,” Y/N states quietly, “if you’re a hero now.”

“I can take you with me, wherever I go. I won’t leave you again. I’ll help you get out of this place.” Carol takes another few steps forward, reaching her hand towards Y/N. “Please give me another chance.”

Y/N stares at her hand. It’s more calloused than before, rougher. She grips the skin on top of her ribs tightly, trying to ground herself, she feels like ripping herself apart.

“Please.” Her voice cracks. Her eyes are wet with unshed tears. “I can’t live without you.”

Y/N grabs her hand with her own shaking one. Carol squeezes with a smile, pulling her close slow enough that Y/N can stop her if she wishes to. Once they are chest against chest, she pulls her into a full embrace. The waterworks start from the both of them the second they’re in each other’s arms. Carol letting out all of the pent up grief she wasn’t even aware she had, and Y/N still trying to grasp the reality of the situation.

“I missed you.” Y/N chokes out between her sobs. “I missed you so much.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Carol holds onto her girl so tightly, pressing her against her body like she’d disappear if she let go. “I’m going to show you the world now, because you deserve so much better than this place. I’ll never let you go.”

Although, Y/N doesn’t trust in promises anymore, some small part inside of her sparks hope, that she’ll truly never be separated from Carol again. She’ll even go all the to the stars for her if she has to.

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specialagentlokitty · 4 months

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Hannibal lector x teen!reader - I would notice

Is it possible to have a continuation of 'i would notice'? Bc that fic was scrumptious and I need to see reader happy and healthy with Hannibal 😭 - Anon💜

Part two:

You resumed your therapy on a non official basis, your parents weren’t billed for the sessions like usual, Hannibal would make the time to either go to your school, your home or occasionally to some cafe.

Hannibal had come to the agreement with you that he would meet you twice a week, and if you felt the thoughts getting the better of you then you would call him no matter the time of day.

He also insisted on checking your arms for any injuries and relied on you to tell him the truth about if you had inflicted any wounds elsewhere.

You were laid upside down on your couch while Hannibal read over the letter that you had given him.

“You refuse to go to your progression meeting? Think about college or university?” He asked.

“I don’t see the point, plus the letter insists on bringing my parent or parents with me and yeah considering they’re in a whole different country that might be a bit hard.”

He hummed a little bit, setting the letter down and he looked at you.

“Do sit up, all that blood rushing directly to your brain won’t do you any good.”

You sighed, swinging yourself back around so you were sitting up.

“Are you interested in perusing a higher education?”

“I haven’t really thought about it I guess…”

“You hadn’t thought about making it past your teenage years?”

You shook your head and he nodded in understanding.

“Well, we have some time, why don’t you take a moment to think about this. What do you want to do in your life?”

You went quiet as you thought about his question.

“I guess I want to help people somehow.”

“A doctor? A therapist?”

You shook your head.

“No. There jobs my parents want me to have, I don’t want them.”

“Well, perhaps you should consider going to this meeting, see what your options are based on your grades at the moment.”

“No thanks, I’ll pass.”

Hannibal sighed heavily.

“Will you attend this meeting if I were to ask nicely?” He asked.

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“I’ll be the only student there without a parent or guardian, that’s gonna make me the laughing stock of my whole grade.”

“Just consider it, I would like you to go there tomorrow, trust me.”

Hannibal checked his watch and stood up.

“I have an appointment soon, so I must be going but do consider staying for the meeting for me, see what options there are available for your future.”

You got up to see him out, but never gave him a response.

You were supposed to still be on summer break, but you found yourself wondering the school halls as you debated actually going to this meeting.

It was supposed to be the last one before senior year, anybody who hadn’t gone to any of the meetings were going to start getting pulled aside in following year.

The meeting would help clear up some doubts you were having on your future and you knew that, but you didn’t want to go alone, so you closed your locker.

You began making your way towards the exit, and last minute changed your course to step into the classroom where other students and parents were.

“Well, look who finally came. I was hoping you would.” Your teacher smiled.

You gave a small smile back, walking over.

“Hey Daniels, I was wondering if maybe I could just get a few leaflets and go.”

He nodded, picking up a few leaflets and some other things.

“Take it I can’t encourage you to stay?” He asked.

“Nah, plus it looks like you’ve got a pretty full room anyways.”

He chuckled a little.

“All last minute, just like you. But you’ve still got time to decide so don’t panic about it.”

“I won’t, thanks.”

You stuffed them into your bag and swung it over your shoulder, turning to head to the door and you nearly collided with someone walking through.

“I hope I’m not late, there was a great deal of traffic on the way here.”

You took a few steps back.

“Doctor lector?”

He smiled as he saw you, taking his scarf off.

“You came, although I assume I caught you just as you were leaving?”

You nodded.

“Well, since we’re both here why don’t we take a seat?”

You sat at the back of the classroom with him, setting all the leaflets you had gotten on the table.

“Have you thought about how far you want to travel?” Hannibal asked.

“I don’t really want to go too far, I want to stay somewhere semi familiar.”

“Alright, in that case we’ll take these ones away.”

He took a few of the leaflets away, and picked up one of the others, talking you though it and comparing all of the colleges and universities for you.

“Well, you are interested in animals, perhaps something in that industry?”

You gasped, lightly hitting the table a few times in excitement.

“Zookeeper!! Or.. or.. or ranch owner!” You whisper yelled.

Hannibal chuckled a little, smiling softly at you, and he set a couple of leaflets down in the table for you.

“Well, you still have your senior year ahead of you, but perhaps we can think of visiting a few of these universities, see what they have to offer for you.”

“Aren’t you like real busy or something?”

“I do have spare time, if need be I can make the time.”

You nodded a little bit, looking through one of the leaflets, showing him one of the pictures.

“This one has monkeys, and it’s near a zoo I could do work experience.”

“Well then, I think we should arrange a visit to this university and see all they have to offer, don’t you?”

You quickly nodded your head.

“How do we do that?”

“I’ll handle all of that no need to worry at all.”

You smiled a little at him, and you pulled another bit of paper from your bag, handing it over to him.

“What’s this?”

“Well, we get to decorate our parking spots, this is what I wanna do with mine.”

“This will take you all day.”

“Yup!”

You beamed at Hannibal and he handed the paper back to you, gesturing to the front of the room so you could pay attention.

When the meeting was over, Hannibal dropped you off back home.

“Shall I meet you here tomorrow?” Hannibal asked.

“Nah, it’s okay. I’ll see you next week doctor Lector, and I uh.. thank you for coming to the meeting.”

He smiled at you, making his way back to his car.

You wanted to get an early start on decorating your parking space, and you placed a sheet down that you could sit while you did it.

It was still early in the day, there weren’t many students there, but all of them were doing the same thing as you, getting an early start.

You were sitting with headphones on while you worked, but you did notice a shadow over you, so you tilted your head up.

“Doctor lector!”

You smiled, pushing your headphones down and you moved over so he could sit next to you.

“I happened to find myself with the day free, so I thought I would come check on your progress.”

“I’ve got to wait for the top to dry, so I’m working on the background for now.”

Hannibal nodded his head, and he looked at the paints that you were using.

“You’ve changed your idea a little bit.”

“Yeah, I thought a forest scene would be a lot nicer you know?”

He hummed a little bit, handing you a green paint, taking the one you already had next to you.

“Try this one, it would capture the essence of the pine trees, make them look more alive.”

“I didn’t think of that.”

You changed the shade of green you were using, and Hannibal took a paintbrush to help you, following the outline that you had made.

“Do you paint or something doctor lector?”

“I believe everybody should divulge into the arts in some way another, it can help clear one’s mind, find them peace.”

You nodded your head.

“You seemed to be rather adepts at painting.”

“My parents made me take art classes as a kid, I guess I just really enjoyed it because I kept painting. I lost interest a while back, but I thought maybe I should pick it up again.”

“Why was that?”

“You.”

“Me?”

Hannibal looked at you slightly confused and you smiled a little at him.

“Yeah, you taught me it was important to keep my interests, especially if I want to clear my mind. Painting really helps.”

“And visiting the pet store?”

“They have really cute puppies?” You grinned a little.

Hannibal chuckled, and he smiled at you, turning his attention back to the painting.

“I am glad to see that you’re becoming much happier, have you considered getting a pet? For company that is, that way you are not alone.”

“I was thinking about it, but I don’t know, I don’t wanna buy one you know?”

“Have you thought about adopting one? I have a friend who has done the same, I could ask him to come with us if you’d like?”

“Yeah! Oh my god I want to find a really adorable dog!”

Hannibal chuckled again.

“Well, considered it settled then. I shall get into contact with Will, I’ll arrange a date and a time, we will go to a few rescues until you find a perfect dog.”

You and Hannibal carried on working on your parking spot, he showed you how to blend the colours to look more natural, and he did the more intricate details for you.

When you were finished you put your hand into the paint tin, and you pulled it out, grinning at him.

“What are you planning?” He mused.

You stamped your hand on the bottom of your parking space, and wrote you name underneath, then wiped your hand on your jeans.

“(Y/N), don’t do that come now, you’ll never get that out.”

Hannibal handed you a cloth, and you used that instead, just grinning at him.

He stood up, and looked at your forest themed parking spot, trees, birds, blue skies, sunlight through the trees, a stag in the middle of them all, and an owl sitting on the branch.

“Why an owl?” You asked.

“Well, because they protest wisdom, a thing I believe you have a lot off.”

“Haha very funny.”

“It’s true, you’re a smart person (Y/N), with a lot of wonderful ideas for this world, and I for one look forward to seeing you grow into a wonderful adult.”

You smiled at him.

Hannibal gestured to paint.

“May I?”

You nodded and he brushed some paint on to his hand, and he printed his hand print next to yours, signing his name underneath.

He cleaned his hand on a cloth, and he stood next to you.

“Now this is truly a work of art.” He said.

“Can we go look at dogs now?”

“Well, everywhere is closed to the public, however Will has agreed for you to come to his home and meet his dogs, would you be alright with that?”

You quickly nodded your head and rushed to pack everything away.

“Careful now, we don’t want to ruin your hard work, you spent all day on that.”

“Right! Right! Carefully.”

Hannibal helped you out everything into your car.

“Go home and change, I’ll be there shortly to come get you.”

You beamed brightly from ear to ear and he smiled at you, opening your car door so you could get in.

You drove back home to wash the pain off and change into some fresh clothes, and you were practically bouncing with happiness as you waited for Hannibal to come back.

The moment you saw his car you were running down the driveway, and he chuckled, getting out of his car to open the passenger door for you.

“Does Will have a lot of dogs? Can we get them treats?”

You carried on rambling questions for him, and he just smiled, finally seeing you with a spark of life, a spark of happiness

#hannibal x reader #hannibal imagine #Hannibal x you #Hannibal #Hannibal lector #hannibal lector x reader #Hannibal lector x you #Hannibal lector imagine

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nottsangel · 2 years

Text

pretty little thing — s.h.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: smut, mask kink, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (m. receiving), choking, hair pulling, dirty talk, degradation, creampie, dubcon, overstimulation, rough sex, cursing, face slapping, fingering, eddie walking in lol

wordcount: 3.1k

summary: your boyfriend steve wearing a ghostface costume to a halloween party turns you on a bit too much…

a/n: i know the movies/characters that are mentioned didn’t exist back then but let’s just pretend they did

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“Nurse? Nuuurse? We have to go, patients are waiting for you! Don’t let them die!” Steve shouted from his bedroom, making you giggle as you hurriedly fixed your hair for the Halloween party Steve invited you to. You weren’t interested in going at first, but Steve ultimately persuaded you to go by exclaiming, “it’s the best party of the year!”. You were certain it was nothing but a shitty excuse for him to see you in a sexy Halloween costume, though. You didn’t want to put too much effort into it, so you chose a simple but sexy bloody nurse outfit.

“Well, you’re the reason they’re dying, dickhead!” you screamed back at Steve, who was dressed up as Ghostface in an all-black outfit with, of course, the mask. You had seen the movie ‘scream’ before, so you knew all too well how ridiculous the mask looked and warned him to prepare himself for you to make fun of him all night long when he’s all dressed up. You weren’t particularly a fan of his costume choice but you’d let it slide because of how enthusiastic he seemed to be about it.

You walked out of the bathroom and made your way to Steve, who was lying restless on his bed with his eyes glued to the ceiling, whistling some song that was stuck in his head.

“Where’s that stupid mask of yours?” you questioned, noticing that it’s the only part missing from his costume.

“In this bag, can’t drive with the mask on now, can-“ he abruptly stopped talking mid-sentence when he turned his head around and laid his eyes on you, seeing you in the sexy nurse outfit that barely covered your body.

“Wow, you- you look amazing” Steve stammered with wide eyes, almost drooling at the sight of you as you chuckled softly.

“I thought you were in a rush” you asked with a raised eyebrow as you stood in front of him with your arms crossed, looking down at him with a smirk on your face. His stunned expression changed into a mischievous one, scanning you up and down.

“You know what, the party can wait a little longe-“ “Shut up, we’re going. Now!”

The drive to the party was quiet, but you could practically feel the sexual tension coursing through the car. Steve´s hand gripped your thigh, your legs exposed due to the shortness of your skirt, while his eyes occasionally peeked to the side, attempting to catch a glimpse of your body.

“Eyes on the road!” you shouted for the fifth time in a row, rolling your eyes at him and feigning a frown.

A few minutes later and the two of you arrived in a nice neighbourhood with very large houses. You didn’t know the person who was hosting all too well— you only knew he used to be good friends which Steve a few years back, which was enough for you to know what kind of person he might be; popular and arrogant.

You both got out of the car before Steve took hold of your hand and led the way to the front door while holding the bag with the mask in his other. He looked you up and down with a smirk once again as you replied with an annoyed “Steve!” before he shrugged and pushed the front door open, walking inside the already crowded house. Loud music was played and most people were already intoxicated— either screaming, singing or talking over one another. It went exactly how you expected it to go, though. Steve was greeted by his old friends who were all over him, practically stealing him from you while you were standing awkwardly next to them, unsure of what to do or who to talk to. Thankfully he caught up on it quickly and grasped your hand again.

“You want to get something to drink?” you nodded before heading to the kitchen together.

“I just hope you’ll like it he-“ “Harrington!” you heard someone say from behind you, cutting Steve off. You turned your head in confusion before recognizing the familiar mullet, moustache and smug smile that never seemed to leave his goddamn face. Billy Hargrove. He was certainly very handsome, but god, could he be annoying.

His eyes shifted from Steve to you, checking you out from head to toe while licking his lips, “Holy shit. Did you bring this pretty little thing with you, Harrington?” he taunted, his eyes not leaving your body for one second. You cast a worrying glance Steve's way, knowing they don’t get along, at all.

“Leave her alone” Steve snarled, standing slightly in front of you, the protective side of him showing. “Oh, I’m sorry. Jealous I didn’t compliment you, pretty boy?” Billy laughed condescendingly as anger was written all over Steve’s face. You quickly poured two drinks and dragged Steve out of the kitchen, before the situation could escalate at any moment. You led him to the couch and sat next to him, attempting to distract his attention from the anger that was raging through his body while keeping your hand firmly in his.

“Here. Your mask” you handed him the bag that he placed on the ground earlier, reminding him that his costume was still incomplete. He grabbed the mask out of the bag and placed it over his head before wrapping his arm around you and taking a sip of his drink. You took a good look at Steve, taking his costume all in while eyeing him from his head to his toes. You were ready to laugh at him, to come up with all kinds of dumb jokes, but… you couldn’t. He actually looked good. Not only that, but it was almost like— like you were, turned on.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked when he realized you were staring, snapping you back to reality. Oh no. You could not let him know you were turned on by his stupid costume, not after all the jokes you made about it. It would be humiliating for you to admit.

“W-what? Nothing!” you stammered, taking a sip of your drink to distract yourself. He brushed it aside and talked to an old friend that came to sit next to him. You tried to look the other way but you felt unable to stop looking at him. Steve, in that costume, did things to you. To your body. You felt so aroused and so needy, it was indescribable. You were rubbing your thighs together to create some friction. But it wasn’t enough. You were getting wetter by the second and- “Oh okay” Steve said smugly, pulling you out of your trance, “I see what’s happening”

“What are you talking about?” You replied with a puzzled expression on your face, trying to hide the fact that you were getting more aroused with each passing second. You could feel Steve's hot breath on your skin through the mask as his head drew nearer to you, “You’re turned on by my costume”. Your eyes widened, nearly causing you to choke on the drink you had just taken a sip of. He chuckled, knowing all too well that he was right.

“Meet me upstairs in five minutes” he whispered into your ear before you could even begin to defend yourself, his voice slightly muffled by the mask as you felt the anticipation raging through your entire body. He rose to his feet and slowly walked to the hallway before disappearing around the corner.

“Is everything okay?” Steve’s old friend asked you with a worried look on his face, jolting you out of your trance. Shit. He must’ve seen how tense you’ve been looking, probably thinking that you had been drinking too much. You took a deep breath to pull yourself together, trying not to think much about how sexy Steve looked in his Ghostface costume, how bad you wanted him to fuck you like you were his little slut, pounding into you so mercilessly— well, fuck.

“Yeah, totally! I’m sorry, I have to go to the bathroom” you excused yourself quickly before you could embarrass yourself even further. While following Steve´s footsteps, you quickly became aware of how soaked you already were. It was embarrassing really, how a silly Halloween costume could rile you up so fucking much.

You realized you may have had more alcohol than you thought when you stumbled a little on the stairs while passing a few couples who were kissing in the hallway. There were a few closed doors upstairs, but since you didn't know which room Steve was in, you thought there was nothing else you could do except check every door until you found the right one.

After seeing a bride covered in blood giving the joker a blowjob, a police officer making out with an inmate and a bunny undressing herself in front of Jack fucking Sparrow, you presumably found the right room, finally. You slowly opened it, not seeing Steve anywhere in the dim-lit room. You stepped inside and closed the door behind you before feeling a gloved hand creep around your neck, making you flinch at the sudden touch, “Hi beautiful, looking for me?”

“Fuck, you scared me!”

“Good” Steve spun you around and slammed you against the wall, caging you inside his arms while he looked down at you through his mask.

“Hmm, he’s right. You are a pretty little thing” his hand slowly moved to your breast, kneading it roughly as he whispered into your ear, “my pretty little thing”

His other hand moved to your core, under your skirt and feeling the wetness through your underwear, “So wet already? What a fucking slut”

You were a little taken aback by his unusual demeanour, but it simultaneously turned you on so much. You weren’t complaining about your sex life, not at all. But you weren’t used to this side of Steve. He was usually so sweet and soft— it was all pretty vanilla. He had never called you a slut before, but fuck, you would be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on.

“Y-yes” you timidly admitted, feeling your cheeks burn at his words. He swiftly placed his hands under your butt and lifted you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around him. He walked over to the bed and threw you on it, causing you to bounce slightly on the mattress while watching him take his black robe off. You expected him to wear a shirt underneath, but his exposed, hairy upper body caught your attention right away, making you even more drenched than you already were.

He moved to the edge of the bed and stood in front of it before unbuckling his belt while gesturing for you to come closer. You sat on your knees in front of his crotch and watched how he slid his pants down to his ankles, his hard erection showing through his boxers. His head came closer to yours as he lifted your head with his finger. He tilted his masked head slightly as you looked up at him through your eyelashes.

“So fucking beautiful” he ran his thumb over your lips, feeling the smooth fabric of his gloves, “and such pretty lips. Show me what you can do with them”

You palmed him through his boxers, the precum wetting his underwear as you heard a hiss coming from under his mask. You pulled his boxers down as his cock sprung free, nearly hitting you in the face. You tended to forget how big he is, the veins prominently visible when he’s fully erect. He removed his gloves, leaving him in nothing but the mask and lightly slapped your face before gripping your jaw, causing you to pout a little.

“Show me how much of a slut you really are and look at me while you do it” Steve instructed before letting go of your jaw. Your hand wrapped around his dick, pumping up and down while using his precum.

“Spit” Steve commanded, making you spit all over his erection and pumping it faster before wrapping your lips around it. He groaned at the feeling of your warm mouth around him, his hand moving to grab your head. He pushed you further onto his dick, throwing his head back at the sensation.

“Just like-“ before Steve could finish his sentence, you heard the door open as the music from downstairs started to become louder. You quickly took your mouth off Steve and turned your head to see who opened the door. Oh no. Eddie fucking Munson was standing in the doorway with drugs in his hand, watching you in a nurse costume giving a blowjob to Steve who was wearing a Ghostface mask. Great. You felt your cheeks heat up as Eddie’s wide eyes were glued to the scene happening in front of him.

Everyone froze for a moment, unsure of what to do before Eddie broke the silence with a laugh, “Didn’t know you were that kinky, Y/n”

“Jesus, get out!” Steve screamed quickly while motioning for him to leave. Eddie left the room with a smile on his face and closed the door behind him.

“I’m going to fucking kill that boy” Steve snarled annoyingly with a sigh, rolling his eyes under the mask.

“Well, you’re certainly dressed for it” you replied before hearing a muffled chuckle from Steve.

You were about to wrap your mouth around him again but he abruptly yanked you by your hair and forced you to turn your head to the side as his head drew nearer to your ear, “I bet you liked it when Eddie saw you like that. Want me to fuck you like the filthy whore you are?” he asked, his warm breath on your skin sending shivers down your spine. You nodded but his grip on your hair only tightened, causing tears to well up in your eyes.

“Aww, poor baby. Can’t even speak and now she’s crying” he said with a mocking voice, wiping your tears. His hands moved to your breasts, feeling them before abruptly ripping your shirt open, the buttons flying everywhere as you flinched. He then took your bra off before moving to your skirt and panties, removing them both at the same time, leaving you completely naked. You were dripping by now, so turned on by Steve’s dominant behaviour that was unfamiliar to you, and wanting even more.

“Lie down” he instructed as you came to lie down on your back, looking at him with big eyes. He came to lie next to you, breathing into your ear while his hand moved from your breast to your core, right where you needed him. You bucked your hips slightly out of desperation, making him chuckle as he traced over your inner thighs.

“P-please” you pleaded. “Please what?” “Please touch me. Need your fingers inside of me” you begged desperately while clenching around nothing. He moved his fingers to your clit and rubbed slow circles on it as your eyes fluttered shut. He then moved to your entrance, before pushing 3 fingers in at once, causing you to grip the sheets at the sudden feeling. He didn’t waste any time and began pumping his fingers in and out of you almost immediately. You felt your orgasm nearing when he curled his fingers up, hitting that spot inside of you that was enough to send you over the edge. You came with a loud moan, gripping his arm to signal for him to slow his movements down, but he didn’t. He continued to pump his fingers inside of you at a steady speed, the overstimulation almost becoming too much.

“Steve, I- I can’t handle it anymore”

“Yes, you can. And you will” he grunted before you felt another orgasm wash over you, making you throw your head back into the pillow and clutch the sheets with all your might. “Good girl”

He swiftly turned you around so that you were on your hands and knees before his hand reeled back to strike against your behind, hitting your ass as you moaned out loudly.

“You want me to fuck you?” he asked while teasing your folds with his cock.

“Y-yes” you admitted with a soft voice, so desperate to feel him deep inside of you.

“Then beg for it” he held onto your hair and drew your head in close.

“Please, fuck me! I will be good, I promise!” you begged, unable to wait any longer.

“See? It doesn’t have to be difficult” he pushed into you in one quick thrust, causing you to fall forward as he pushed your head into the mattress. God, it felt so good. It always did. The way his dick stretched you out, completely disappearing into your tight little hole. He slammed into you while maintaining a steady pace and gripping your hips. He noticed your moans were muffled by the pillow so he gripped your hair again to bring your head closer to his, forcing you to look into his brown eyes, the only distinguishable feature of his face with the mask on.

“Don’t hold back. I want everyone to hear how good I’m making you feel right now” he instructed as you moaned in response, your head resting on his shoulder. His hand moved to your core, rubbing fast circles on your sensitive clit. You could feel yourself nearing your release and it almost became too much for you. His cock deep within you hitting all the right spots, his finger skilfully massaging your clit, the muffled sounds of the music playing downstairs, the Ghostface mask— you couldn’t recall ever being more turned on than you are right now. He moved his free hand to your throat, choking you as it added even more to the already intense pleasure you were experiencing.

“Cum” Steve instructed, his finger speeding up as you felt your third orgasm of the night approaching, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head and see stars. You moaned his name out while gripping his arm, trying to catch your breath. “Good. Fucking. Girl”

You collapsed in front of him before he increased his pace again, chasing his own orgasm as you gasped in overstimulation. He came not too long after you, feeling the familiar pool of warmth inside you, his cum painting your walls as he threw his head back and groaned your name.

He rode out his high, pulled out and lay down next to you before he took off the mask and grabbed your face, kissing you all over it.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asked sweetly, as you nodded. His entire demeanour shifted into the Steve you knew the moment he took his mask off.

“Promise me one thing” you said, turning your head to face him.

“What is it?” he asked with a puzzled expression on his face.

“Don’t ever get rid of that mask”

comments and reblogs are highly appreciated !! <3

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a/n: this fic is dedicated to my lovely friend @my-my-only-angel ily <3 i was a bit nervous to post this but I hoped you guys liked it!!

🏷 tags: @racoonsstinkybunns @xoxoluna @missonaryjjm @drayslove @milkyoatz @nycitrains @slutforjohnmulaney @fofisstilinski @kiannaiswack @eichenhouseproperty @matchagreenbailey @romcomsonnetflixstyles @kitkatkaitin @changkyunssmiles @leelizzz @screechingtrashkid @nottluvr @angeline4potter @chaotic-fae-queen @haylexo10 @aprilwastaken @gilgunizer @khloeisntfunny @axen-gers @cobaiinn @cigarettebitch3 @bmowx @whore4hayden @paran6ia @luvmybbies @vintagevict0ria @burningdesirebby0 @adamgetawaydriver @interbad @whore4romance @hvgwartss @bunnyweasley23 @raveninhere @nia-um @bubbbsss @astrodrain @liqvidlvvck @jasminejandee @milkiangl @liltimmyst @eddiesstulwhore @fawnpilledd @leopard113 @lnglourious-imagines @giulia-malfoy @itswanktime @loveeharrington @sakura-the-flower @gulpgulpisla @kazbrekkerbybrekker @estella-things @mrstealuregirl @dr4cking @morwap @lazydreamer19 @fleurmunson @skelitinonmyback @nununununununununu @stevieswhore @pi3rcedk1tty @hellfiresprincess @lavender2003

6K notes · View notes

amiavy · 3 months

Text

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ first post!!!

Heartworm [oneshot]

✭ Scaramouche x Reader

ׂ╰┈➤ modern au / they’re in high school / idiots in love!! / fluff / light angst at the end i think!? / childhood friends / fem reader / no use of y/n

.ೃ࿐ synopsis ; you feel you and Scara’s relationship growing more distant as you enter your first year of high school. you start to feel unsure about your feelings 😱.

3,738 words

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help idk how to make posts on tumblr,, i originally posted this on ao3 but decided i also wanna start a blog so. i hope u enjoy :3 ੈ✩‧₊˚

btw he’s,,, called kunikuzushi bc i like it!

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High school is difficult. Especially your first year. It’s a completely new environment, filled with a bunch of people who always feel bigger than you. And considering the meek person you are, it’s no understatement to say that you mostly avoid getting involved with anything too big or too extravagant. You were okay with sitting alone outside in a more secluded place, eating lunch whole listening to music.

The solitude was nice. Feeling the crisp air brush along your skin was refreshing, and definitely needed after getting through crowded hallways and crammed staircases. During these small moments, you mostly felt okay with yourself.

But sometimes, it was too quiet, even for you. The elongated silences were getting uncomfortable. You just needed to be able to speak at times, to talk with someone— just like the two friends at the table beside yours would do everyday.

Occasionally, there would be some groups of kids who would come over, but that wasn’t the break of silence you needed. And yes, maybe sometimes a classmate or stranger would come over, talk for a while, but that wasn’t it either.

You did make some friends, but they were… weren’t, well... You cherished and appreciated them, but—

There was just someone in your life that you didn’t quite feel fulfilled without. And of course, who else would it be but your dear friend Kunikuzushi? Although you still went to school together in the morning most days, it was so fleeting. After that, you barely saw each other during the day.

Unfortunately, you had no classes or even lunch together. And the only after school activity you both joined was Arts Council, which happened once a week, on Wednesdays.

Wait,— today is Wednesday!

Today, you’d get to see him! Finally, after barely being able to spend any time together, you could indulge yourself in some well deserved company.

Thinking of all the topics you could tell him about, you smile to yourself and happily eat your food. You thought of talking about what happened during your week so far, and to ask him about his.

There was a prominent question you wanted to ask him, too. Did he make any other friends?

Other than you, everyone saw him as rather disagreeable— and they weren’t wrong for that! He was snarky, sarcastic, and didn’t like to talk unless necessary. Thus, it made sense for you and him to be sticking together throughout basically your entire youth. After all, the only person willing to be near him is you.

You’re able to see him as someone more than just his spiteful remarks, and so he allowed you to follow him for being “at least tolerable,” as Kunikuzushi said himself.

Being so caught up in your thoughts about him, you were pulled back to reality once you realized that the one song which reminded you of him the most began playing.

The feeling tugs a small, but sweet smile over your lips, which remained while you got yourself ready to head back to class.

Class is as boring as ever. And yet, it’s fairly different from middle school, when you used to sit beside Scaramouche at the back of the class. You remember how fun it was to make small doodles on his notebook in class while he wasn’t looking. Oh well, at least it’s last period, and you’d get to see him soon!

Soon, the bell rang, waking you up as last period ended. You were suddenly much more awake once you recall it was time for Arts Council. With excitement, you quickly pack up and make your way to the club’s room.

Many other members were already walking inside and finding seats, while you wait beside the door for Kunikuzushi.

For some reason, your heart begins pounding. Your stomach feels like it’s all in knots while you think of him. Like you were scared? Nervous? Excited? For… what?

“Hey,” A voice suddenly calls out to you. You exclaim a small wince when you feel your forehead get flicked.

“Wha—“ You were about to speak, until you realize who you were looking up at. It was Kunikuzushi. Your eyes widen slightly, and you could hear yourself stammer just a bit.

He raises an eyebrow at you, seeing how startled you were. “You’re so odd.” He simply says, brushing past you as he went inside. He looks back at you once, gesturing for you to come in as well.

You also look back at him and nod, before looking back a second time. Promptly, you followed and took a seat beside him, moving the stool a bit closer. He lightly scoffs, which makes you giggle. His attitude was always so silly.

You then turn to him, about to say something to start some conversation. However, you see two other figures approach the table, greeting Scaramouche while you direct your attention to them.

You look at the two curiously; a fair man with ashen hair and teal eyes, holding a neutral expression. His name was Albedo, who you knew from your science class. He was smart and humble, though not very social. The other boy had dark teal hair which matched his solemn expression, an amber colour accentuating his cat-like eyes. Even though you didn’t know him, he seemed to have similar energy to Albedo.

After they said hello to Scaramouche, to which he responded with a quiet hum, they both look to you. Surprisingly, Albedo greets you with your name. You didn’t expect him to know you, since he always seemed much more absorbed in his own work.

Albedo then spoke again, “Hm, so you and Scaramouche are…”

“She’s my friend,” Scaramouche answers sternly, a small sigh escaping his mouth.

Albedo nods, looking at Scaramouche with a slightly surprised expression. Once you agree, he nods once more and introduces you to Xiao, who wouldn’t say more than a greeting.

Albedo decided to sit in front of you, with Xiao quietly taking the seat beside him. Before any more words could be said, the club’s supervisor teacher comes in and began discussing today’s activities.

Valentine’s Day was soon approaching, and the council chose to prepare a cute, small photo booth. You volunteered to paint the booth’s background, to which Scaramouche agreed to help out with. Albedo and Xiao had already left the room to paint a school mural.

Everyone got to work promptly— you quickly gather the materials while Scaramouche brings over the large canvas paper, setting it over the table. He sat down once it was placed, watching as you walk over with various painting supplies.

With a sigh, he walks over to you, taking a few of the supplies from your arms.

“You looked like you were going to drop everything. Slow as ever, too.” He remarks, turning as he makes his way back to the table. You just smile, following him as you set the rest of the materials out.

“How about we do some sort of sunset? Then we can ask for some paper hearts to frame around it,” You suggest, Scaramouche shrugging in response. “That sounds fine with me, whatever you want.”

After discussing it a bit more, with Scaramouche mostly just giving passive responses and small comments, the two of you begin sketching it out. It was a rather plain sketch with not much going on since it was just a background focused on the colour and scenery.

And yet, even during such a simple task, you couldn’t help but get distracted, your eyes constantly flicking up from the paper to look at him.

Even with your unfocused attitude, the two of you got the sketch done quickly, and began painting. Your eyes were guided by the way your soft brush strokes worked in harmony with his, flowing against the blank canvas to shape colour and unity between your two brushes.

At first, the two of you continue to work in relative silence, until you finally speak, “So, how’s your week been so far?” You ask, looking up at him briefly. In that moment, he looks up at you as well, though his eyes swiftly shy away.

“It’s been the same as ever. Just some boring classes.” Scaramouche says plainly, not looking up again. You knew it was a typical response, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit upset when he said it was “the same as ever”. You wait to hear him say more— to say that he missed you, too. But you knew him, and you knew it was far too uncharacteristic.

You simply hum, nodding your head in acknowledgement. It was silent for a bit more as you both continued painting.

“…Aren’t you going to tell me about yours?” He speaks up, his authoritative voice grabbing your attention. He looks like he was forcing himself to face you as he rests his elbows on the table.

Heat burns onto your cheeks as his eyes focus onto your own.

“Ah, right,” You stammer quickly, blinking a few times. Why did it suddenly feel so tense? After years of knowing each other, you should be comfortable more than anything, right?

“It’s been… okay, I guess.” You say, “I enjoy eating lunch alone. But you’d be an exception, of course,” You laugh, sounding like you were joking, but you weren’t.

He lets out a scoffed laugh, an amused smile playing on his lips. “Obviously,” He says confidently. He then resumes his painting, looking up at you once as a signal to continue talking.

“I think I’m kinda just making acquaintances, not really friends, or something, you know?” You continue, trying to think of the right words. “I like the people I meet, but I dunno if I’d call them my friends. Maybe my definition of a ‘friend’ is a bit confusing, I guess.”

“Well, is it a bad thing?” Scaramouche asks in a smooth tone, yet mumbling a bit. He looks up at you curiously before his eyes scurry away once again.

You think about it for a moment before reluctantly shaking your head. “No, it’s alright actually. My mind’s been acting kind so it’s peaceful.” You say with a laugh, still just watching as he painted.

Scaramouche nods again. He was surprised and confused as to why he found himself somewhat glad. “Do you just plan on slacking?” He questions, giving you a teasing smile as he remarks on you simply sitting and watching him.

You frown, promptly standing up and starting to paint again. “Of course not!” You exclaim. However, some club members had already began leaving by now, so you thought about leaving soon as well.

The two of you talk a bit more about classes and work, occasionally bickering until you deice it was time to leave. After you clean up and say goodbye to everyone else, Scaramouche follows you to your locker.

He stands closely behind as you put back and grab things from your locker. Although you couldn’t see him from behind, you could feel his fixed gaze on you. His eyes scrunch slightly every time you accidentally graze your arm against his while sorting things out, but he stays silent.

Scaramouche takes a look at your decorated locker, small stickers, random decor,— and a picture of you two. He eyes it for a moment until you get up.

You opted to close the door, until he swiftly places his hand atop yours and stops you. A smug smile was evident on his face when you turned to question him.

“I didn’t know you put this up,” He asserts teasingly. It made your heart beat faster once again as you try to calm down.

“Isn’t it cute?” You ask, shrugging it off and acting unaffected. “I’m not sure about that.” He chuckles.

“But don’t take it down. That’s not what I’m trying to say.” Scaramouche says in a light tone, though clearly meaning his command.

He then closes the door, taking his hand off of yours as you put the lock back on, chasing him as he already began walking off. With a heart beating like crazy, you made your way to his side, walking to the exit together.

“Going straight home?” You ask. He hums in response, looking straight ahead.

The two of you walk through the empty corridor, not saying much. You didn’t have too much to talk about, especially after years of knowing each other. Usually, the silence would be comfortable.

And yet, it feels weirdly tense.

Every time your shoulders bumped, you can’t help but look up at him and want to see his expression. Looking at him felt different nowadays.

You try to feign ignorance to the cold, despite your mild shivering. It was early February, after all. Grass is covered in frost, and you could feel the cold air starting to nip at your face and hands. Small clouds appear at your mouth as hot breath escapes your lips, matching the sight of chimneys on houses you walk by.

Scaramouche was looking ethereal as always. His austere, cold eyes were accentuated by the season’s cool tones, additionally contrasted by the warm hue of blush on his pretty, pale cheeks which was perfectly framed by his indigo hair.

You quickly look away, placing your eyes on the snow falling instead.

After a breath, you speak, “I love the snow. It’s sooo pretty,” You happily say, “It’s really cold, but melts like magic when you touch it.”

“I know. Because it comes in contact with your warmth.” Scaramouche replies, turning his head to look at you while you watch the snowflakes. You laugh a bit at his stoic response.

There was a small pause.

You then grab onto his arm, pulling him forwards with you. “Come on, let’s stop by at the park for a bit!” You exclaim, taking him off guard. “Why would we do that—?!” He blurts, nearly falling over as you took him by surprise.

“‘Cause we haven’t seen each other often,” You tell him honestly, your voice quieting down as you lead him.

You make sure not to look at him while you spoke, so that he won’t see how much you meant those words.

“…Fine.” Scaramouche sighs, following you over to the park. It was close to your house, so the two of you used to go quite often. Or rather, you’d drag him along with you. Especially when you were kids. He’d never admit it, but he truly did enjoy going with you.

To just simply be together and forget about everything bad was heavenly— and he’s just obsessed with how you treated him.

…Not that’d he’d tell you that, of course. And obviously, he wouldn’t tell you how glad he was that you proposed to hang out for a bit. And how happy it made him when the two of you spent time alone during Arts Council.

No, he just couldn’t. Not when he was face-to-face with the risk of losing you.

Scaramouche was quickly cut out of his thoughts when you dragged him over to the swings, swiftly brushing the snow off the seats and getting on. You invite him to join you once you patted the snow off the other swing, looking at him expectantly.

He complies, sitting down as his hands loosely grasp the swing’s chains. He lightly sways, though not putting enough force to fully swing himself like you.

Scaramouche looks up at the snowy sky— or, pretends to look at the sky when he was really just staring at you each time the swing brought you high enough into his view.

He softly bit the inside of his lip, a sign of uncertainty as to whether or not he should say something.

Maybe even something about… how his chest kept feeling heavier. Suffocating, in a way. Especially when he looked at you.

At your features that were absolute perfection in his eyes. At your smile which never failed to warm him. At your starry eyes that made his breath get caught in his throat whenever they looked back at his.

“Why don’t you swing yourself?” You speak up, finally looking at him. The thought never really crossed his mind— after all, it was just pushing yourself back at forth.

“I happen to like it here. You know, swinging yourself like this is just as enjoyable.” Scaramouche says, sounding as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You hum, shrugging your shoulders. You didn’t really agree, but he was always an eccentric person. You continue to swing yourself, a small smile of amusement on your face.

Scaramouche naturally noticed it, and it caused a pleased smile to emerge on his lips as well. “Besides, you look quite foolish just going back and forth.” He mocks, sounding entertained by how idiotic he made you out to be.

You heave, frowning at him. “I do not. It’s fun. And you’re a bore,” You insult him back.

“Oh, I’m a bore?” He scoffs, raising an eyebrow. “That’s too bad. Because it seems like you’re always stuck with me.” He laughs.

“Unless you uncharacteristically run away now. Apparently even though I’m boring, you never choose to do so.” Scaramouche finishes teasingly, grinning.

You furrow your brows, glaring at him. Your cheeks heat up because you knew he was right— and it was frustrating!

“That’s ‘cause I’d feel bad seeing you alone!” You exclaim, just thinking of anything to rebut his statements.

He then grabs the chain of your swing, frowning irritably. His sudden motion caused your swing to move with uncertainty, making you hold on tightly until it finally stopped.

“Stop that!” You utter, playfully hitting his arm.

The two of you continue to bicker for a bit as usual, every so often talking about recent events and how school has been treating you. You liked having insight onto his life. And he liked having lots on yours.

You eventually slow down on the swing, resorting to weakly swaying just like Scaramouche as you continued to chat.

“How about Xiao and Albedo? Are you friends with them?” You ask, continuing the conversation.

“Mmm. I don’t know what you would consider a friend. But I guess I consider them acquaintances.” Scaramouche shrugs, not putting much thought into the other two boys.

“I just talk to them in class sometimes, when the teacher forces us to ‘discuss in small groups’.” He notes, rolling his eyes as he recalls his teacher’s ways.

“But, uh—…” Scaramouche starts to stutter, looking down as he seemed to consider his words. He sighed again.

He then brought his head up, turning to face you. “So, you and Albedo knew each other?” He breathlessly asks, his expression rigid.

His sudden behaviour took you a bit off guard. He always seemed so stern and sure of his words.

“Yeah, somewhat?— Well, not really, actually.” You stammered, thinking as you spoke. “We’re just in the same science class. He seems to like his work more than people, so…”

Scaramouche nods, his face relaxing. He looks back up at the falling snow, which had accumulated on the ground much more.

The air was much colder now that time had passed with the two of you just talking. The sky dimmed into a cool blue, signalling evening’s approaching.

There was a comfortable silence between you two. Well, you tried to think it was comfortable. Honestly, you were battling your feelings with every bit of your rationality left.

You tried so hard to tell yourself that you were okay with being friends. Friends. And nothing more. But after so long, you knew that all you wanted was more.

For Scaramouche, it was the same. All he wants is to keep you by his side forever. From childhood until eternity, you are what he wants. But not just like this.

If he had to shamefully admit it… He wanted you like the cheesy couples you occasionally watched during your many movie nights.

He hated the thought of how vulnerable you made him. How you could so easily make him weak. If you just asked, he would love you so ardently, more than anyone could.

You were both plagued by these thoughts, and you both knew you had to do something. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, and the silence that filled the space around you two, which you tried to think was comfortable, was really just full of tension and thickening air.

“Scaramouche,” you grabbed his attention, making him face you, “I’m really glad we got some time to ourselves today.” You say, your voice soft yet a bit hesitant.

Scaramouche let out a heavy breath as his mind seemed to conflict when he stared back at you. “…I am too.” He unusually confesses.

There was another pause between you two.

“I hope we’ll have lots more times like this. I… really do miss being near you all the time. It’s different.” Your words made Scaramouche’s eyes widen slightly. There was a pounding in his chest, making him clutch the swing’s chains a bit tighter.

His lips trembled a bit before responding, “We will. Don’t worry. There’s lots of time for us.” He says sternly. “If our schedules become so packed that they keep us away, then I’ll take care of it.”

There was that feeling again. Your heart started beating faster, and despite the cold outside, you felt completely warm. You hoped Scaramouche felt this way too— that the pinkish hue on his cheeks was because of his feelings and not the cold.

You smile at him.

“That’s good to know.” You giggle. “I’ll do the same, then. Promise?” You ask, reaching your pinky out to him.

He scoffs, but places his pinky out to entwine with yours anyway. “In high school? Still? Very childish, but not unexpected.” He says, still poking fun at you.

You roll your eyes and made a pinky promise, not pulling your finger away yet. You want your touch to linger more, even if it wasn’t necessary. Though, he didn’t seem to have any objections.

After another quick squeeze, you carefully pull your hand away and stand up, getting off the swing. “Let’s get home now, it’s getting way too cold.” You tell him, a shiver running down your spine.

There were still lots of unsaid words. Many things still buried. So much yearning.

But for now, with the way you tug his arm along to get home, perhaps it was better for you both to stay quiet.

————————

hell yea i can be pretty cringe! i’m surprised if u read this far ily <3

#scaramouche #scaramouche fluff #scara fluff #genshin scara #genshin impact #genshin x reader #scara x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #scara x you #scaramouche x you #am i doing this right?#avy/ami’s stuff ✮⋆˙#woah i can do that

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rookiesbookies · 5 months

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Hi i love the empress and male!concubines idea with the COD boys, I def think that it'll be interesting to see more hcs for this idea/au?

Alright my little anon. Truthfully I should have given more details in the og post (it also started as a rant about how I couldn’t handle a poly relationship because of my anxiety (I also saw a post about a girl who had 4 partners and didn’t get any attention and it made me sad so that's also way).) I have been stewing on this idea though so here’s some hc. Might do more if people are still interested in it or want more, I do love talking about my AUs (like this one and the Greek god one, so let me know if you want me to go more bc stuff like this rattles around my brain)

Also apparently there is a term for a male concubine and they’re called concubinatus or a concubinus. Honestly I took Latin and the fact I didn’t expect this lowkey brings me pain.

General HC?

The first empress in a long time. And the first empress to like her concubinuses (hope that's right) more than the idea of marrying for an emperor. So the council decided to bring you only the best warriors to keep. They of course still must serve occasionally but they have been elevated in status to there is lower risk anything will happen. Mostly kept as tacticians or kept to train the new boys joining the country’s military.

Konig and Krueger were taken as trophies of war for the Empress. They were two of the largest, smartest, and strongest men from the battlefield.

When the two were adjusting, it was difficult. The empress was gracious with them, mentioning how she wouldn’t dare make them do anything, apologizing for the war and the loss. Truthfully trying to get them comfortable, and the two were honestly shocked but I’ll get into that more in their sections.

Keegan was sent as a gift by a neighboring nation looking for peace and protection. He had a good time adjusting, sometimes making comments about how this treatment is too good for nasty military dogs like all of them but I’ll touch on that more later.

Price

Price was probably the first concubinus. He had been a strong warrior and was deemed by the council to be a good fit for what they were hoping for. He also, however, did not intend to retire from his position so they had to find an alternate reason to stop him from getting in trouble.

For him it was awkward. His empress was a bit younger than him, however he did crave to be a father. While the empress didn’t intend to fall pregnant yet, he would be on his best behavior when the opportunity came.

The chance to be the father of the next royal was something he couldn’t miss.

Soap

Both him and Gaz were best in their class, breaking records, so it only made sense it seems to send them to the empress once they got their prime years out of them.

He was probably the last concubinus to come in before the gift and the trophies of war. He has the more vicious puppy eyes. He waits for you like a dog every time you leave and enter. Always talks about how much more comfortable your bed is and how nice it is to lay with you. Definitely sweet talks you even though he’s already a concubinus.

Will literally do anything you say and it’s partially because he thinks he will get sent back to the military full time if he doesn’t.

Ghost

Definitely does checks on all the palace guards to make sure they’re up to spec. If even one slacks he uses his power to make them run.

This is all because of how gracious the empress has been with him. When he had a fit of ptsd (i'm thinking anxiety attack or something) she invited him into her room and away from the others so he didn’t feel embarrassed and comforted him as best she could before making him some tea. With an empire that stretches across Europe he was impressed she had the time to stop and care about a random concubinus.

Definitely was surprised he told you as much as he did and how you listened and comforted him. Telling him you’d never make him do anything he wasn’t comfortable with was something he appreciated.

Gaz

See the first paragraph of Soap’s bc Im not copying it again.

Since I feel like Gaz is the older of the two (he seems to have a maturity I dont see as much in Soap idk?) He was sent to her first of the two for his ‘semi-retirement’. Now they just need them to occasionally train incoming recruits.

He definitely enjoyed adjusting to the cushy life of the castle. He liked being able to keep his weapons since he did double as a personal guard for the empress. But he likes that he and the other concubinus get a hot tub more, definitely likes all the fancy clothes.

His job is the have sex with his sexy empress, what’s not to love?

Konig

Truthfully, when he was being cocky toward the other concubinus and you pulled him away into a separate room to tell him you knew he was compensating for his anxiety, he was more than shocked. He was stunned into silence.

So when you reached your hands under his hood and rubbed his cheeks, telling him it was ok and he didn’t need to act out, he melted. He had never truly been shown such softness, so to be shown it by the empress of the enemy? He was so conflicted. With a pat on his chest you told him he could take on his position fully when he was more comfortable and that you were concerned for him and there if he needed to talk. He was still quiet.

Krueger

Was not interested. No matter how many compliments you gave him or gifts you sent, he wouldn’t budge. He was grumpy and hostile. So much so he made the other concubinus nervous especially for you.

It wasn’t until you pulled him into your room that night that he relaxed quite a bit under your soft hands and apologies. Massaging his tired muscles, and lulling him into a sense of security. Now he understood how Konig folded so easily.

He offered to return the favor but you told him not until he was more comfortable and made him promise to play nice. He agreed but only to be a bit nicer.

Keegan

He honestly believes this treatment is too good for all of them. They were dogs of war, animals trained to kill, and now they’re dressed in fancy clothes? With an empress who dotes on them when they should be doting on her? Truthfully he baffles him. He isn’t ungrateful, he just didn’t expect to become a concubinus when sent here. He expected a joint military operation or to be a representative. He hit it off quickly with the group from the empire’s military.

The two from the war keep to themselves and the shorter one threatened to bite him.

Often feels the most out of place because he is the only one from his area, but he doesn’t complain. He gets nice gifts and is invited into your room pretty often, so he appreciates every moment. He wonders if it would be proper or allowed for him to get you gifts?

I was surprising more eager to write this ask than I thought. Let me know if yall want me to do formal parts to this? Maybe an actual fic for this au?

Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, don’t forget to leave me a comment or a request in my inbox to let me know what yall want to see!

#cod x reader #call of duty #captain price #konig x reader #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price x reader #kyle gaz x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #soap mactavish #keegan russ x reader #keegan p russ #sebastian krueger x reader #cod krueger #simon riley #simon riley x you

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licorice-tea · 4 months

Text

When The Tide Comes Out

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x reader

Content: angst, fluff, h/c kind of… also kissing😽

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: first time writing about Ace!! also i LOVE orville peck and this scenario just fit perfectly with this part of his song, “Blush”! Ace is so like… cowboy adjacent, too, so i think this kind of music is fitting for him! please enjoy and lmk what you think <3

There’s something ‘bout men that I don’t understand

You never would know how Ace did it. The constant solo traveling, having to find a new place to sleep every night, and not knowing where home is. Because, well, his home is a ship. He’s brave and responsible enough to take care of himself- you know that much- but still…

It’s a lifestyle that makes no sense to you.

On the other hand, you’ve never been one to stray far from home. You prefer to stay on your island, only going on the occasional vacation with family or friends. Still, you’ll always know where to come back to when the fun is over. And even then; you’re surrounded by people who carry the same feeling of comfort as your bed would.

Ace doesn’t have that. And he doesn’t seem to need it, either. He races around the globe in search of revenge. He calls it justice, but when you see the fire in his eyes- normally so full of warmth and comfort- you’re confused. It’s a scary look, one that you’d hate to ever see directed towards yourself. But, Ace could never direct such rage toward you. He barely gets to see you, why waste any time on bitter feelings?

Yet, he always leaves you. You’ve opened your door to him countless times; told him he was welcome to stay for as long as he wants. And every time, he chooses to leave after a night or two.

They’re always leaving wherever they’ve been

For what must be the hundredth time, you walk Ace to your front gate. You live in a nice rural area near the beach, and your front yard has its own garden and fish pond. It’s picturesque, and a home that most people (couples, specifically) could only dream of owning someday.

He hugs you tightly, burying his face in your hair with no shame.

“I miss you already.”

“Then stay.”

Ace shakes his head, surely messing up your styling, before he pulls back to face you. “You know I can’t.”

A thought tries to escape your mind, but your lips press together after a second thought. His hands brush a strand from your cheek- and you let him for a moment- but then you catch his wrist. “But you can, Ace.”

Brush it off with a shrug, I don’t know much about love

He sighs and a wince passes over his features; as if he’s in pain. “Let’s not do this right now, baby, please.”

“Don’t you baby me, Ace. You leave me alone for months on end and- and what? I’m supposed to just be content with seeing you for a few weeks out of the whole year?”

“… I’m sorry, I really am.”

This time, you’re the one to sigh and shake your head with a pained expression. “No it’s… I know what you’re doing is important to you.”

“But you’re important to me, too. You’re where home is.” The sentiment squeezes your heart- it feels like it’s about to burst.

“I know.” You try and offer a smile, so at least your last few moments together for god knows how log will be happy ones.

He laughs dryly at your obviously forced smile. Ace feels like he’s failing you, in all honesty, with no solution or viable compromise that will suit both his career as a pirate and the love he wishes to continue growing with you. “I’m not doing too great at this, am I?”

“You’re doing your best.” You pull him back in for another hug, and whisper against him. “I love you, Ace.”

He smiles into your neck. “I love you too.”

Still I give it a try now and then

You’re the first one to let go, pushing him away gently. “Go, before I try and stop you.”

His smile is strained, yet still bright and handsome. “I’ll come back sooner next time, okay?”

“You better. Or else I might have to find a replacement.”

Ace laughs and you giggle along with him. “Nah, I’m not too worried about that.” He presses a sweet kiss into your lips. “I mean it though. I want to make this work, and I want to be here with you.”

This time around, your smile is more genuine. “Then I can’t wait.”

Your hands turn his hips away from you as you playfully push him out the gate and toward the beach. “Now go so you can hurry back!”

The two of you laugh as you run down to where his raft is stationed on the shoreline.

Saddle up and ride on down

“You have my vivre card?”

“Mhm,” you pull it out of your pocket, “and you have mine?”

Ace lifts his hat to show you the card stitched onto it. “Always.”

He pushes the small boat out of the sand, and it floats in place. It’s powered by his own devil fruit, so there’s no concern of it drifting away without its owner. Who, as he turns back to you, gives you a look of longing. After a moment his face moves closer to yours, so you’re both smiling softly and nearly connected at the lips. Ace grips your waist and kisses you. It’s more passionate this time, and full of all the love and desire he has for you that he can fit into one action.

You huff in amusement. “Be safe.”

Ace nods. “I will.”

Maybe when the tide comes out

With reluctance, Ace releases his hold on your sides and wades in the shallow water. First he throws his bag on it, then lifts himself onto the deck of the Striker.

You wave goodbye, and he waves back. Theres a halo of sunlight cast from behind his dark curls and broad shoulders. Then, with a few sparks so as to get further from you and not accidentally burn you, the Striker moves further into the rising water. The realization that it’s high tide washes over you much like the waves themselves. You’re soaked up to your knees by now, but it’s no matter. You would swim across the whole ocean if only to get closer to him.

Ace and the Striker grow smaller and smaller in the distance, but you can still see his arm waving high in the air. You wave back with equal zeal, hopping up and down. His shouts of “I love you!” and “I’ll see you soon!” grow quieter, so you’re not even entirely sure when he stops.

Eventually, once he’s out of your field of vision, you turn back. You walk the same path up the beach- 2 pairs of footsteps still visible in the sand from your trip down to the shore just moments before.

Without your lover’s laughter in your ears, the creak of the gate is nearly deafening.

#fanfic #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece x you #x reader #ace x reader #portgas d ace #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace x you #portgas ace x y/n #angst #ace angst #songfic

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hyperfixatedfandomer · 9 months

Text

That handsome boy from the sky pt 4 (caught with Neteyam AU)

Part four of the series in which Spider and and Teyam escape RDA, only to come to Awa’atlu and find out that, surprisingly, Spider is considered uniquely attractive by reef Na’vi standards. (All other parts in the pinned post)

“What in Eywa’s name do these idiots even see in him??” Aonung pouted, kicking a rock as he sat against a cliff protruding through the sand, waves occasionally enveloping his legs.

“Seriously? Weren’t you wagging your tail at him yesterday??” Roxy chimed in.

‘Nung blushed. “Weren’t you?”

“Yeah I was.” He smiled proudly. “Can you blame me? He’s so dreamy! And his natural hair~” He mused, kicking his feet and closing his eyes.

Aonung made a gagging sound. Sure, he had a weak moment yesterday, he liked what he saw, but he doesn’t like like that Spider kid!

“…Whatever. He’s just a human.”

“A very strong one! Kiri said that one time, when sky people came back and they were running away from, uh, iron viper-wolves? Socorro threw a bolder three times his size at them!”

Chief son’s eyes widened. Alright, out of all the things he heard about this demon, this feat was certainly an impressive one. How much does a bolder weight anyway? How much do I weight—

“What!?” The boy exclaimed when he heard Roxto giggling.

“I know what you’re thinking~!” He giggled again. “It’s okay you know. We gotta go hang out with them tonight anyway.”

“What??”

“They’ll be attending the anemone harvest festival.” Roxto stood. “The Sullies want to integrate their big bros properly, since they weren’t here for the last one! And, you know, Neteyam’s really sweet too.”

“Uh huh.” Aonung rolled his eyes. “He’s just as scrawny as the rest of them.”

“But his shoulders are broad!”

“Pfff, Spider’s are broader.”

“Oh so you DO like him??”

“W-N-NO!”

***

“Hang out with who now?” Neteyam didn’t even try to cover a grimace that made its way onto his face.

“Aonung and Tsireya?? Y’know, Olo’eyktan’s children?” Lo’ak reiterated. “They’ll get you accustomed to the traditions and the dancing.”

“Yeah, we got the Tsireya and the tradition part, they’re not the problem bro.” Spider’s bushy brows furrowed as he crushed herbes into a sea-shell mortar. “You want us to be buddy-buddy with Aonung? The "let me leave you to your death in the middle of nowhere" Aonung? The "let me bully a fourteen-year old for things she can’t control" Aonung?”

“Listen, we haven’t really forgiven him for it.” Kiri stepped in. “But he’s changed for the better! Roxto was a good influence on him.”

“Is the Roxto kid going to be there?”

“I heard he’s nice.”

“He is! And ‘Nung is a lot of fun when he’s not an asshole.”

Oldest Sullies exchanged a glance. The idea of being around a boy who directly hurt their siblings wasn’t a fun one, but if they were insisting so badly, and the festival was allegedly a lot of fun, they guessed they had no choice but to give it a chance.

“Okay then. We gotta prepare right? Where do we start?”

Kiri grinned.

***

“Alright, the nets have been fixed, the platform stands strong, and the flowers sit just right…” Tsireya thought out loud, surveying the beautiful, tightly woven platform that was raised in front of the beach and would function as a dance floor for the celebrations. The harvest was rich this season, and Metkayina were giddy with the idea of eating, dancing and drinking all night, dressed in beads, shells and most importantly; the many colourful pond flowers that grew in small pools deep within the village, as well as the caves all over Awa’atlu, in the depths of the island’s rainforest. She often liked wearing the pink variety, what they call ‘the berry tulip’, and would tonight braid more of them into her hair. She couldn’t wait!

“Reya!”

A high-pitched voice chirped and she knew instantly who it was.

“You think these would look good hanging over the fire-pit?” Fwasim showed her garlands of delicate, almost transparent quartz crystals. “I was thinking that the light from the fire would reflect off of them, and bring more colour to the festival!”

“They look incredible! Did your father collect them?“

“Nope! My handiwork!” She giggled at Tsireya’s wide eyes.

“Ah, it’s amazing, friend! Go hang them up right now!”

The girl wasted no time, approaching grown-ups who were securing the fire-pit structure, when she heard another familiar voice come from behind her.

“Hey Reya~” Lo’ak mused, smiling and yet already embarrassed at his own boldness.

“What do you want?” She smirked, arms crossed but no malice behind it.

“Y’know…since you dressed me, Kiri n’ Tuk so well last time I thought…maybe…you could—“

“Help braid your brothers’ hair?”

He nodded, his smirk turning into a guilty grin. “Mom and dad are busy right until the festives start so..”

“Do they have something to wear at least?” She chuckled.

“Oh yes, we solved that, it’s just the jewellery and the hair…would you help us, oh tsakarem?”

The girl pushed him. “Oh stop you!”

***

“I don’t know Tuk…do I really need this?”

“Of course! I’m telling you, all the prettiest boys will wear this stuff at the festival!”

“Uh huh…”

"Pretty" wasn’t something Spider thought he’d give another try to imitate. His body wasn’t delicate enough, like his siblings’. Being human, he gave up on trying to appear good-looking a long time ago, thinking that thanks to his species and ancestry, whatever chance at attention he could have had been thrown down the river. Well, until recently.

“You look sick, dude!” Lo’ak complemented, entering the marui with Tsireya who held a large basket and she gasped in wonder, seeing the big Sully brothers ready for the holiday. Neteyam looked as elegant as ever with the top that she helped weave, seashells the colour of sunrise being their centrepiece.

Spider, on the other hand, looked perfect in his own right.

“You really are a sun lily in twilight.” Tsireya smiled. “Who made the top?”

The top she spoke of was a piece of art. Carefully crafted strings shone in the dark of Socorro’s shadow, made from pressed sea plants, and over his chest lay a pattern of small, azure crystals. They glittered, reflecting streaks of light emitting from flames of the cook fire, and Spider made the loincloth match it by tying a similarly woven ornament over it. He looked horribly insecure under his family’s gazes.

“Tuk wanted to put the newest gift to good use.”

“A gift?”

“Was laying next to the entrance when we got back from foraging the anemones.” Neteyam smirked. “But I recognzie that crystal work from somewhere..”

“Must be Fwasim, she loves incorporating gems in her clothes.” Spider added, twirling. “I owe her a big one for this.”

Tsireya giggled. That must has been her exact plan all along. She knew the forest boy was too noble to remain in dept, and that girl definitely planned to use it to her advantage.

“You both look just great! It’s only hair that is left and me and Kiri will help you all braid them. I brought some flowers, pick which ones you want.

The boys and their littlest sister swarmed around the basket, picking out plants for their ornaments. Spider’s gaze was fixed on tsawksyul, the big sun lily resting between smaller buds, the very nickname Tsireya and previously the girls around Awa’atlu used for him. Its golden petals were ten times as beautiful as he could ever hope to be, and felt too eye-catching for him to wear. He’d look like a narcissist…

“You want the lily?”

“Wh-no no no! I-it’s too much for me.”

“Why not? I think you’ll look gorgeous!” Tuk asked.

“‘Gorgous’ isn’t my thing Tuk…” The blonde rubbed his neck.

“Bullshit! Bro, it’s a party, you’re supposed to look your best!”

“I’ll look like an idiot.”

“You’ll look like a boy who put effort into himself for once.” Neteyam remarked a bit sternly. “Looking festive at a festival won’t kill you.” He then gently picked the flower. “Tsireya, can you help me here?”

***

The first song had begun, grown Metkayina playing drums, flutes and string instruments to create upbeat melodies.

Neytiri, with a bright blue flower over her left ear, approached Ronal who rested on a palette, her queue connected to a soundly sleeping baby in her sling. Tsahik motioned ‘I see you’ to her as she sat next to. “Where are your children?“

“I let them go early to get ready. Could not do so myself however…” She looked to the gathering crowd of teenagers and young adults.

“It is alright. First half of the festives is mostly for the youth anyway.”

“You didn’t mind that when you danced the night away while four months into your pregnancy.”

Ronal smirked. “I had to have some fun before she arrived…” Then smiling down at the slumbering babygirl, who was completely unbothered by the loud music and chatter going on around her. “I realise I haven’t apologised..”

“For what?”

“For doubting your family when you came here. You have adapted well, so had your children, each of them unique in their skills, and your eldest is everything we thought he’d be.”

Neytiri didn’t know how to answer. When Spider returned to Awa’atlu with Neteyam after escaping the Sea Dragon, it felt strange to hear Metkayina refer to him as her oldest child, instead of the one she considered her biggest pride, but she didn’t have the heart to correct them with the amount of stories she heard from her son about their captivity.

“He kept me safe, mother.” “He was the only one who stood between me and the demons.” “If not for him, they’d force me to tell them where the clan hides!” “He stayed loyal to us.”

Spider Socorro kept her son safe, then chose to run with him when his own father was right there. She could not overlook that.

And after his return, things only became further complicated. Spider helped around as much as he could, tiring himself out for weeks to earn his keep, and always there to have the Sullies back, her back.

Neytiri was unsure of what exactly Spider was to her personally at the moment, but he was without a doubt part of the family. It felt embarrassing how long it took her to realise it.

Just then, the chatter in the crowd of teenagers died down and they stilled, looking down one of the paths leading to the platform.

It was Tsireya, Tsahik in training, accompanied by the Sullies, all dressed up for the festival. Among the new guests walked Neteyam, the ever elegant Na’vi, and an ideal of an Omatikaya, and after him…

“It’s Spider!”

And it was indeed him, following Neteyam and cautiously brushing dreads off his shoulders, hoping the lily Tsireya braided wouldn’t be damaged.

“You look breathtaking!” One of the girls fawned with stars in her eyes.

Could Spider argue that? Barely, he thought, for the first time since setting foot on these shores, smiling to himself. This time the compliments felt deserved, if only for the effort of his new friends.

“Come dance with us!”

“Ah ah ah!” Then Fwasim appeared seemingly out of the blue, beating other kids to it as she motioned a greeting to him. “You like the gift I made~?”

“ ‘Like’ is an understatement!” Spider grinned. “It’s amazing! Don’t know how to thank you for this.”

“You could start by giving me a dance.” She smirked, her tale wagging playfully.

Slightly blushing, Socorro took her hand. He couldn’t refuse a friend could he? And for such a generous gift…

Some of the teens huffed, jealous of Fwasim cleverly wrapping the boy around her finger, watching her as she showed Spider the proper dance moves and walked him through them.

“Relax your muscles, let the wind guide you like a current.”

Again, the blonde didn’t normally do gracefulness. He considered himself far too "feral", as the elder Omatikaya put it, to move in sync with the world around him, but festive garments gave him a kind of confidence he only ever felt in rare, measured doses.

And when Spider grows confident, his playful side comes out like never before.

The first dance was over and Fwasim excused herself to help with other decorations around the beach, so Spider cast a mischievous glance towards the crowd, approaching it. “Kiri, s’it okay if I have your shawl for a minute?”

“What for? Too cold?”

“Nah. You know, the clan has been so kind to us, showing their way of things.” He purposefully raised his voice so the teens could hear and immediately, they were all ears. “Just thought I’d show them some culture of our own~”

Taking the shawl, Socorro winked at her and Kiri gasped, covering her mouth and grinning, then looking at the kids. This was gonna be fun.

The dance Spider prepared to perform was a tad bit flirty, and she never saw her big brother be the one to try it, as he never felt brave enough to join the other older kids back home. Until tonight it seems.

The music started and moving in harmony with it, Spider pulled the shawl on, holding both of its ends and sliding towards the crowd with a devious smile. Youngsters watched him, giggling flusterdly and batting their eyelashes at him, until suddenly, Socorro fixed his eyes on the shyest of the group; the girl who had broken her ankle not long ago, and swiftly pulled the shawl over her head and behind her back, pulling her towards him and the dance floor.

The crowd exploded in whistles, squeals and laughs. The girl’s friends, happy to see her being noticed by a popular boy, gently nudged her towards him.

She was completely and utterly flustered to say the least, but that didn’t stop her from putting her hands in Spider’s and letting him guider her through the Omatikaya dance, thought she made no eye contact with him.

“Aww, am I not even worth a glance?” The blonde frowned.

“W-what? No! No of course not I—“

“Am I really that filthy?“

“No!” She exclaimed with wide eyes, grasping his shoulders. “You-y-you…look…incredible…”

For a moment Spider’s intense, dark eyes were locked on her and that poor girl’s heart skipped a beat, her ears fluttering like butterfly wings.

And then he got close to her face and smirked. “It’s okay, I know, was just messing with you.” Then chuckled, freeing her from the confines of his sister’s shawl. “Cheers for the anemone harvest festival. Have a good night~” And just like that, the boy was gone, leaving his dance partner surprised by the sudden disappearance, but a shy smile on her face nonetheless.

Aonung and Roxto arrived when Socorro began scouring the crowd again. “Eywa! They started without me!”

“The festives are for the whole village, skawng. No one’s gonna wait for your lazy ass.” Neteyam teased, appraising the simple jewellery he wore. *The boy didn’t even try.*

“Yeah, well, somebody had to help collect the remaining anemones! My and your fathers will be here any minute.”

And just as he said that, the two men appeared out the shadows, settling next to their wives.

“Hey baby. How’s the festives?”

“Our children have a lot more fun than last time.” She smiled, looking at the Sully kids dancing near the flames of the fire.

And among said kids was Spider, locking a reef boy in a dance with him by pulling a green, woven shawl over his head.

Immediately, Jake’s eyes widened to size that of a tulkun’s. “Who’s that?”

Ronal leaned towards him. “Ora. An excellent fisherman, one of the best warriors in our clan. Very responsible, a good choice, though the rest are no worse.”

“The rest???”

“Yes, Spider danced with a variety of partners, he has good taste.” Tonowari nodded in approval.

Sully barely held his jaw from hitting the floor. He left this kid on his own for one day and now the adults are thinking that he is choosing a future mate. The idea could chase away some unserious suitors but those who felt persistent enough would likely take this as a sign to start trying to court him.

Jake looked forward to grounding his stupid son for the next ten years when they got back home.

***

Giddy, Spider plopped down on the edge of a woven deck next to Kiri, who was munching a sweet snack. She offered her plate to him as he carefully wrapped the shawl around his sister’s shoulders.

“Having fun?”

“You bet!” He chirped, taking a deep breath and removing his mask to get a taste of the fried flower petals, covered in a syrup similar in taste to honey.

“Those poor children had no idea what to do with themselves!” She giggled again. “Where did you learn to be smooth like that?”

“Kiri, c’mon.” The boy spoke after putting his mask back on, mouth stuffed with sugary goods. “I always had it in me! No teacher needed.”

“I never saw that side of you back in the forest.”

“Well…” He shrugged. “There wasn’t really anyone to show it to…”

“…Do you like it here?”

“Huh?”

“Awa’atlu.”

“I mean…I won’t stop missing the forest. It’s our roots y’know, but..”

“But?”

“It’s beautiful. When I’m in the water I feel connected to the great mother like I never had before, the ilus are cute and Metkayina are…nice.” Socorro smiled, his cheeks reddening. “Not the same as the jungle, but I’ll be fine!”

“Okay, good…”

“Why the question?”

“I hoped you weren’t getting uncomfortable with the attention.”

“Uncomfortable?? Kiri I’m a celebrity!”

“Uh huh.” She rolled her eyes.

“Who wouldn’t like being handsome??”

“You were always handsome, dumbass.” The girl nudged him playfully, and Spider grinned…

Because for the first time in forever, he felt like agreeing.

Anyway, hope you liked my longest chapter of this fic! This fanfic is insanely fun to write! Let me know in the ask box if you have anything to say!

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

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WIBTA for defending my friend from their wife?

❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 < to find later

This has been bothering me for months and I need an outside perspective. I’m (24X) in a group of friends that consists of several people including a married couple, Alex and Caitlyn. I have known both of them for the same amount of time, so it’s not as if I feel like Caitlyn is intruding on our friendship or anything. We’re all in our 20s.

We’ve been playing D&D together for over a year and have been friends for longer, and Alex is the Dungeon Master and the rest of us are players. Their wife, Caitlyn, is very aggressive toward Alex when they DM— yelling at them, calling them names like “a fucking bitch,” screaming at them to shut up, and withholding affection when they play NPCs (i.e. the villains) and deal damage against Caitlyn’s character, which they of course are also dealing against the rest of us— there’s no unfair targeting happening. She also refuses to do her own basic math at the table, and gets mad at Alex if they don’t add a single-digit number to her dice rolls for her. Alex never returns this behavior, as far as I can see.

For additional context, Caitlyn holds VERY questionable opinions about race, gender, and sexuality, even though she herself is queer. She misgenders the trans players at the table (correcting herself occasionally) and is a massive Harry Potter fan, even posting things online like “I don’t care, I’m still going to play Hogwarts Legacy.” This is bizarre to me because Alex is one of the kindest, most third-eye-open people I know, esp when it comes to social and political issues.

All of these factors have caused tension at the table, and I’m worried that I’m simply biased against Caitlyn for her questionable views. I don’t know what to do in this situation. I don’t want to insert myself into someone’s marriage, but it’s very upsetting to see my friend being treated like this, and I know I’m not the only person at the table who has noticed it. It feels like verbal abuse.

So WIBTA if I spoke up at the D&D table whenever Caitlyn treats Alex like that (yelling, name-calling, withholding affection, etc.)? Just to say things like “Come on, man” or “Let’s be nice” or “They’re just playing the character”?

#aita #am i the asshole

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gffa · 1 year

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It’s really interesting in an episode set on Coruscant that heavily deals with New Republic policy, that we don’t see any familiar faces. The show can bend over backwards to get us CGI Luke Skywalker, we have Genevieve O’Reilly still working with Star Wars, yet nowhere are Leia Organa or Mon Mothma to be found in this episode. Not even so much as a mention of them, despite that they’re the two most major players of the New Republic. The New Republic here is entirely faceless, even literally faceless in the droid scene, that we never see anyone who has any kind of real authority around, it’s just Pershing’s experience of a handful of people on the ground who seem nice or at least human, a faceless droid who only asks the same questions over and over, and the mindless, monotonous work, interspersed with rich people occasionally coming up to him after his talks. It makes the New Republic feel very much like a rebranding of the Empire, because the show doesn’t put faces on it, faces that we’re extremely familiar with, ones we would automatically associate with people we know are genuinely doing their best and care so, so much about doing this right. If Leia or Mon had shown their face in this episode, how much more charity would we feel towards the New Republic here? Knowing everything they’ve sacrificed because it was the right thing to do, standing up against the evils of the Empire? Knowing that their hearts were truly in this to help as many people as they could? How much kinder would the New Republic have seemed if we had a face to put to it? But the way Pershing experiences it, it’s just as cold and wasteful as the Empire, and that makes sense that he would feel that way, that that’s all we see of it here. We all know the New Republic eventually falls, it’s been established as far back as season one of this show that it’s struggling and doesn’t always come through on everything. But how much more slack would we cut a fledgling government, if it had been delivered from Leia Organa’s caring face?

#leia organa #mon mothma #penn pershing #the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #new republic #meta

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dejwrites · 1 year

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❪ ♡ ❫ ─── ( synopsis ) after your casting partner grimmjow come down with the flu, director shunsui kyoraku steps in and takes his place.

♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — reader discretion is advised: female reader, female anatomy described, written with black reader in mind, modern au, sw!reader, p*rn director!shunsui, very descriptive description of making out, implied oral (male receiving), mentions of pubes. (come on now we see how hairy this man is) doggystyle position, flat doggy positon, usage of spit, breeding kink, creampie, body worship, mentions of reader & grimmjow being roommates and filming buddies lol, he done made her fall in love after giving a smidget of him, this smut is just outright nasty...i need to be evaluated after writing this, word count: 3k

YOUR FACE SCRUNCHED UP IN DISGUST HEARING THE SOUND OF YOUR ROOMMATE SLASH VERY LOYAL FILMING PARTNER AGGRESSIVELY COUGH. With your back leaned against his dresser, your arm crossed over your chest as you watched him peak from under the royal blue duvet, his eyes puffy, and frankly—he looked like shit. You knew he wouldn’t be able to film today considering how he looked, but you knew that he wouldn’t particularly let you help look after him and miss work. In your mind, you could miss one day. It wouldn’t make a big deal, considering how your bank account was looking. However, your roommate was insisting you just film without him.

Grimmjow and yourself have known each for over two years now. The first year you two met after you desperately decided to do porn for cash. At first, you were timid—afraid your reputation could be tarnished as soon as Nympho Productions posted the video online. The direct deposit that hit your account had you eager to try more. According to the interactions on Grimmjow and your videos, they were prevalent. Many of them rave about the two of you having a lot of chemistry together. Weird right? Having on-camera chemistry in a porn video. So, you and Grimmjow entered a contract to do a video together three times a month under Nympho Productions. You two soon became roommates after realizing that you have seen everything of each other—some workers in the company even joked about the two of you dating.

“They’re most likely going to pair you up with someone else,” Grimmjow lets out a cough as he finally pulls the covers off his head. His light blue colored hair was a mess on his face, and his eyes were as puffy as ever. “We’ll have to film four videos together next month.” He huffs.

“The contract is between you and me. I don’t have to go in today.” You spoke out as you shrugged your shoulders. “Plus, you look like shit. I can’t just leave you in here all sick and gross looking.”

Grimmjow stares at you and blinks. “Did you just say I look like shit and gross looking?”

“That’s the only thing you heard me say?” You asked. “I don’t mind staying here and taking care of you. That’s what roommates and occasionally video partners do.” You smiled at him, and he simply rolled his eyes at your gesture and rolled over in bed so that he was no longer facing you.

“Stop being so nice as if you didn’t curse me out yesterday for eating that shitty flavored ice cream, you brought, Y/N. Don’t let me stop you from making money. Plus, you should get used to doing videos with other guys.” Grimmjow says.

“You ignored my sticky note on the ice cream that you said was nasty, you asshole.” You said. “I have chemistry with you; why would I want to do that?”

He sits up in bed, giving you an annoyed look. “Actors have chemistry with multiple people. So do porn stars. Now go because you must be at the studio in like an hour. I’ll be okay.”

Your lip gloss-covered lips part to argue against his words before admitting defeat. “Fine, I’ll keep you posted on who I’m filming with. Hopefully, it goes quickly.”

“Let’s hope whatever lucky guy doesn’t cum too quickly.”

“Just how you did our first time filming together.” You jokingly say as you shut the door before he can chuck his pillow at you.

The journey to the studio wasn’t that long. As soon as you stepped into the office, many workers were already doing their job for the day. You didn’t know how this day would go considering that you had no clue who you were filming with. You feared that you would be paired with someone who cum too quickly, which dragged on filming. Or maybe you’ll be with someone you weren’t attracted to, and you couldn’t have sex with someone you weren’t attracted to. Granted, you were a porn star—it wasn’t like you were looking for prince charming. You just thought it would be better to stare at someone pretty. You also didn’t want the sex to be seen so forced; any director could point out when the two stars aren’t into it and just doing it to get over with. You were a woman of standards and had to make sure everything you did was of criteria, including sucking cock on camera.

“Oh my God! You actually came to work,” One of the set assistants said as she approached you with a clipboard. “We heard about Grimmjow being sick and assumed you wouldn’t come in. That saves everyone's ass,” She links arms with you as she walks down the hall toward the makeup and hair department.

On the long hallway towards the makeup and hair department location, posters of popular videos the company created were on the walls. You didn’t have a poster yet, considering that you only filmed with one person.

“Don’t you have to find someone to replace Grimmjow?” You walked into the room and sat in the chair to get your makeup done.

The majority of the makeup looks depends on the scenario. In essential blow job videos, the makeup artist sometimes used waterproof eyeliner, depending on who was directing the video. Some directors adored the pleasing aesthetic shot of a pretty person with eyeliner stains on their face after having a cock tap at the back of their throat—others didn’t, as they thought it was trashy.

“Uh, yes.” The young woman said as she brought her clipboard closer to her chest. She glances down at her sneakers before speaking again, “It’s surely a first for Nympho Productions.” She forces a smile on her face, and your eyebrows are raised in curiosity.

“Who am I filming with? I hope you guys didn’t just get some random guy.” You sighed. “If that’s what you’re referring to, this being a first.”

“No, it’s just you’ll be filming with uh—Director Kyoraku.” She says after she checks her clipboard. “We never had a director step in for a video, so this is a first, and everyone has been running around like a chicken without its head because of it.”

Your mouth instantly dried up at the sound of that. You had worked with Director Shunsui Kyoraku a couple of times, considering he’s been the director for countless of you and Grimmjow’s videos. You have sat in the studio’s cafeteria and overheard many workers talk highly of him. He was charismatic without even trying. He was kind, very kind actually, and not in the creepy power dynamic kind that many directors in Hollywood give. You couldn’t deny how attractive he was. He has seen practically everything of you on camera—so why was the thought of recording a video with him having your stomach forming the most insane knots?

“You can refuse to do the video. He has stated that and wants you, his co-star, to be as comfortable as possible. He understands that Grimmjow is your usual partner—and recording with someone new can be extremely intimidating.” The set assistant explained. “We can start whenever you’re ready; the shoot can be as long or short. We need to get enough footage to release an exclusive video for premium subscribers for the site.”

Your lips form a straight line before speaking, “It’s okay. I’m comfortable with that. Are there any specific positions he prefers for today?”

“Once again, anything that you’re comfortable with.” The set assistant said. “You’re actually his first—on camera. So, he’s kinda going to be looking at you for guidance.” She chuckles lowly as she rocks on her heels nervously. Frankly, she was afraid that you’d back out last minute.

Now it was you chuckling; you’d heard rumors about Director Kyoraku. From how big his cock was to how amazing he was in bed. Now here you were with the grand opportunity to see if the rumors were true.

“Do you think we should go with waterproof eyeliner?” The makeup artist asked out loud.

Usually, when you were asked this question, you didn’t know what to say. Especially if you didn’t know who was directing the shoot during your scenes. Your lips rubbed together before parting to speak but soon were interrupted by the one man that had been running through your mind since you learned the news that you were going to be filming with him.

“Regular liner would do.”

Your eyes met with his, and you felt your body go through a heat rush. It felt like all the blood in your body rushed to your face. Your words that were tumbling around in your mind seemed to come to a stop. The makeup and hair department people around you seem to move slowly. Shunsui Kyoraku was leaning against the door frame of the room you were in.

“Then you guys heard the director, regular liner it is.” You could hear the makeup artist chuckle at your words.

“He must have quite some interesting plans for filming with you today,” The artist commented as she grabbed the black eyeliner.

Shunsui took the empty seat just a few inches away from you. He rested his head in the palm of his hand as he stared at you. Completely drinking in your looks as you were getting your makeup done. As the makeup artist turns to grab another makeup product—you catch a glimpse of him trailing his tongue across his lips before he rubs his hand across the stubble on his face.

“I came to you before our shoot to talk.” He interrupts the silence that swirled around the room.

“I already told the set assistant; I am comfortable with any position you want to try.” Your eyes met his.

“Right.” He clicks his tongue before speaking again, “I know this is awkward, but my main goal is to ensure you’re comfortable.”

You crossed your legs across one another, the jean skirt you wore rising just a bit with your provocative action. You took note that Shunsui’s eyes glanced down at your thighs. He swallowed so hard you could see his adam apple bob because of his actions. Were you making him nervous?

“I’m very much comfortable with filming you. I know I suppose to help guide you, but I’m sure you don’t need much guidance.” You stated.

The makeup artist applied a coat of lip gloss on your plush lips before asking you to rub your lips together to finish the minimal makeup look. You rubbed your lips together before glancing at your reflection in the mirror. Your golden skin glistened in the bright light that was attached to the mirrors, and you couldn’t help but smile at your beauty. Pushing yourself out of your seat so you can change into something else, you look at Shunsui before your lips curve into a smile.

“Remember the words you told me when you first directed one of my videos? Just do it as if I’m not even there. So just do that, sir.” You let your hand place on his shoulder before leaving the room.

“See you on set in about fifteen minutes.” You said out loud as you waltzed down the hall to change into something else.

You went to your dressing room, which was usually shared with Grimmjow, to change into something more appealing to the eye. Your breasts sat up nicely in the shirt you wore, but you knew you wouldn’t even have it on in a matter of minutes. You spent the remaining time in your dressing room trying to figure out if you could give Grimmjow a heads-up on what was happening. He was going to see the video regardless—but you were sure his little ego would be bruised seeing who you would be filming with. As your fingers hovered over the message thread to send a quick message, a knock was heard at the door. The same set assistant that dropped the massive news would give you a sly smile, “We’re ready for you on set, Y/N.” She adds.

“I’ll be right there.” You answered.

You never were nervous about filming other than your first time on camera. You remembered how timid you were with so many sets of eyes on your bare body. Today you were so nervous that you could feel the knots twisting and turning in the pit of your stomach. However, you kept remembering how people talked highly about Shunsui on set. Not one person had something negative to say about the guy, so of course, he would take his time with you. Of course, when action was yelled, he would make you as comfortable as possible, considering that this was different from filming with Grimmjow. His large hands caress your body like a well-trained masseuse. Obviously, you got the idea clearly of him choosing for you to wear regular eyeliner just for when your pretty mouth was wrapped around him, gagging pornographically until tears stain your heated cheeks. Mascara stained your face as you were attempting to regain your breath from Shunsui’s cock being in your mouth.

Your heart thumped against your chest as you lay on your stomach, and when you felt the weight of Shunsui on you—you could feel your breath hitch. His lips linger, kissing behind your ear. You can feel the wetness of his tongue trace alongside the line of your ear before whispering, “If I’m being too rough, let me know.”

His voice was so smooth that simply by saying that, you grew ever wetter from the time of his cock being in your mouth. You felt his lips drag a line of kisses down the spine of your back, and you could feel your skin littered with goosebumps in anticipation. Your mouth gasps apart to let out a whimper of desperation. Your pussy twitched in anticipation, feeling Shunsui’s cock resting upon your ass. The sigh of comfort you let out when you could feel him slide into you. His hand was placed on your waist as he was waiting for you to get used to the feeling of his cock stretching you out. The broken cries of pleasure you let out as soon as his hips begin to rock cause you to feel lightheaded. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but this felt different.

You and Grimmjow scenes worked as partners. You tolerate each other because you would have filmed with each other rather than anyone else. Oddly, the two of you just became close friends within those years. The thought of filming with another guy never settled in your mind until you felt the satisfying feeling of Shunsui fucking you like a madman. The pornographic sound of heated skin slapping against each other was sure to be picked up on the shotgun microphone that was above Shunsui and yourself.

When Shunsui pulled himself entirely out of you—you felt so bare with his cock tapping at that spot that caused your dreamy eyes to lolly in the back of your head. Even barer than being naked in front of a whole production. You could feel the tip of his cock kissing your drooling entrance before the wet feeling of Shunsui using his spit as lube. Once again, he’s bottom down inside you, but time slowly—teasingly. It left you whining out for more, and with each whine, he rewarded you with what you wanted. The sound of the bed tapping at the wall was attempting to overpower your moans. The wet squelching noises of Shunsui’s spit plus your wetness that coated his cock with each push forward into the cushion of your ass.

“Harder.” You gasped through your moans.

He pushed your coils from the side, placing a soft kiss on your temple. “Harder, what?” His questions through a dragged-out pant.

“Harder, please.” You whimpered out.

He grants your wishes without a complaint. His large hands spread your cheeks apart just so his girthy cock could kiss that one spot that had you seeing stars and slurring out moans of his name. The fiery pit that was bubbling in your stomach pushed you closer to the edge. The hairs on your body rise in anticipation as your orgasm finally come upon you. Your pussy pulses around him as you hear Shunsui utter something before he cums. That didn’t stop the notorious director from stopping. It seemed like that motivated him to fuck you through your mind-blowing orgasm.

Your skin was stained with his scent as the two of your bodies went limp at the feeling of playing tug-a-war with the intense orgasm. Your head plopped down on the pillow, and you could feel Shunsui slowly pull out. You couldn’t even imagine the mess that was in between your thighs just because of the mere moment of you urging him to cum in you. As soon as you heard the director yell that you guys were done, you finally were able to rest your mind that only could process Shunsui Kyoraku and only him.

While tugging on the robe someone gave you, you let your fingers brush against your coils, trying to compose yourself from the events that transpired. Your stomach felt like it filled with butterflies, and you felt fuckin’ lovesick. Your feet hit the softness of the rug that was near the bed you just received one of the best fuckings of your life on. Your body plopped backward as you could hear many filming crew members completing their duties. You felt the space next to your sink downward, and Shunsui took the spot next to you, wearing a similar silk robe that you were wearing. On the back of it was an embroidery of the company’s name on the back.

“We should do this again?” Shunsui eyes glance down at you.

“Again?” Your eyebrows raised at him, and you could only hear him hum in agreement at his words.

“Contact my assistant when you make a decision.”

And with that, you watched him walk away from your view as his assistant approached him with a water bottle and his cell phone. You were left with the taste of Shunsui on your lips and your mind filled with just him. To think you were about to call out to take care of your roommate today.

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femoso-seben · 8 months

Text

Baba Yaga Task force 141 X John Wick! reader

Tw: animal abuse, references to pregnancy, mention of miscarriages, blood, gore, violence, death

Gender neutral uses Mx for Mr/ Mrs it’s gender neutral.

Married life— you never saw that for yourself. You also never saw yourself fall for a military man. It almost feels like a sick joke. An unsanctioned killer meeting a legal one is a sick joke.

You met him on a work trip, honestly how you two got each other’s phone number was quite the funny ordeal. You met in line to be seated, turns out he was your seatmate. You gave him no mind, occasionally you two would give each other nods.

You notice him at the same hospital you. You were on a mission, and he had a bullet wound. Your eyes lock and life continues. With one of your work friends, you have noticed him in a group across the restaurant from you. You locked eyes, a strange thought passed between us, why are you here?

The last straw was sitting at your window seat only to hear a low “bloody hell.” You look up to find him again. You couldn’t help but laugh. This is ridiculous.

“I see you again stranger,” you smile. He scratched his head mumbling some more and sitting down.

“What’s your name?” You ask as he sits down next to you.

“Simon, you?”

“[Name], nice to meet you.”

You two had to exchange numbers, it was too coincidental. You only talk for a few minutes before going back to your own devices. You kept getting more job requests. With a sigh you picked on in England, you were heading there so might as well do a job there.

You two didn’t talk for a few months, you honestly forgot he existed. He texted you out of the blue, it was small and simple. It was a short conversation. Never too long never too deep. Occasionally when you were in England and so was he you meet up for coffee or tea.

It was casual— situational. You saw nothing long-term with him, not even a romantic relationship maybe just acquaintances. Two years— every six or more months you two would have a small conversation. Two years of on and off, before it got really serious. Before he got serious.

It was like a dam had broken loose. You answer your texts, more often. You two ended up calling too. It was fast a tumble and the relationship roared to life. It was all in a span of three months.

He moved in with you— into your expensive New York home. He brought his dog with him, Riley, a cute German shepherd. A well-trained one. Living with Simon, you learn one thing for sure— he’s a man of routine. He established on quickly.

We kept our jobs private and our relationship on the download. It took him a few months to mention his work— it was in passing that you learned he’s a special operator in the military. You are a traveling art appraiser.

You two both agreed, that work is something we don’t talk about. It was another three years of quiet dating both heavily busy. He was gone for months sometimes better half of a year, which was perfectly fine for you, you’re busy too. Very busy. It was five years into your relationship did he brought up marriage. He’s… joining a dangerous task force and wants to seal the deal.

You said yes— but before you could plan the wedding, you had to leave the game. Leave the underworld. The continental and the high table won’t let you go so easily. You’ll have to pay a debt. Before the two weeks were up you must complete an impossible task— kill the three most prominent underworld leaders. With one blood oath later, you were free.

Free from being the Baba Yaga.

Free from being Wick.

Free to marry.

Free to be a doting partner for Simon.

By the time you come back, you already started doing venue shopping for the wedding. You both agree to a private wedding with just your friends, he had none who are civilians, and he chose to keep his career away from you.

The wedding was sweet. Private with less than fifty people attended. The wedding ring barrier is Riley obedient and sweet carrying the pillow with the rings. You chose the rings, they’re thin and plain something that denotes marriage but also could be simply overlooked as accessories. The world didn’t need to know you two were married just you two.

You became a Riley. You didn’t want your old name— not the name of a killer. Neither did he, but you made it clear, you were happy to have his last name. And he was happy to live in your house. He had a slight chip on his shoulder— he wanted to provide for everything.

You came to a compromise. He pays for most of the housing utilities and you pay for the house tax. His money is the family’s money and yours was yours— and the children’s. You didn’t argue on that— you both know he could quit his job and you two could live rather comfortably on your money. But you could clearly tell providing made him very happy.

It’s what made him feel worthy… worthy of you.

Three years of marriage and most of the time he was away, always on the clock even on break. Only a few people in his line of work knew you existed, a CIA agent and his captain. No one else. And that was fine with you.

Retirement life is great. You spent most of your time figuring out what you wanted to do with your millions. Three years in and the two of you were considering starting a family. A few children would be too bad, You’re retired and Simon has mentioned retiring from the military, no time soon but in time for raising kids. You never consider raising kids. Hell, you never consider marriage or leaving the underworld life.

“My love,” you turn to see Simon setting his military bag down and rushing to you for a hug. “How have you been?” He murmurs.

“Not much Sí just wondering where I put the nursery.” You hum. From the backyard, you hear Riley storming into the living room and jumping onto Simon.

Life was blissful slow and trouble-free.

Until you decided to walk the street with Riley. Coming back from your surrogate who’s 3 months pregnant, lovely woman. Simon would bring his military friends over— forced by his team. You’re are very surprised, how strange this is but you don’t mind the new guess.

As you walk down the street at night Riley on highly guarded. You weren’t scared and had your gun in hand. Simon insisted you get gun training. Something to do with his pass. He only said he lost everyone he cared dearly and he did not want to lose you too. You didn’t have the heart to tell him you already knew how to shoot a gun.

You kept your mouth shut, he took some pride in protecting you— thinking he was protecting you. Why would you take that away from him? His sense of peace and duty? You didn’t mind playing into his fantasy. It’s rather cute seeing him be all protective, you never had that in your life until now. It was everything you wanted— to be wanted. You even got your concealed license to lessen his stress. Playing the perfect spouse was very… peaceful— heavenly really.

Riley’s sharp bark regains your attention. You look up to see a group of men running into the alleyway. You step into the shadows and hope to avoid them. They were speaking in Russian.

“What the hell man! You killed a Pregnant woman!” You froze and looked at them silently.

“She got in the way,” one brash boy sneers.

They continue to argue about killing the woman— they were only meant to rob her. Riley stayed silent but he was ready, ready to fight. You hear them stumbling closer, you make a loud noise and walk from the darkness.

This has nothing to do with you— your eyes caught something. That purse— just like your surrogate. You look at all of them up and down, at the stolen items in their hands. You recognize them all.

Your heart breaks.

That lovely woman— Anne. They killed Anne and your baby.

“What you looking at?” One points their gun at you. Riley begins to bark at them sneering and snarling his teeth at them.

“You killed Anne,” you mutter silently. You picked the surrogate— a friend of a friend. She was so happy to help you two. A thanks for helping her get het out of an abusive relationship. She had her life ahead of her.

With one swing at you, Riley jumps up and latch onto the arm. Another shot Riley in the stomach. You swing hard, mind going blank as your training kicks in, systematically each of them out. Breaking their hands, arms, and neck. You didn’t feel like letting them live.

Once you were done you pulled out your phone and called for a reservation for dinner. You left the coins on the body and ran home to get your car and take Riley to the vet.

Simon is not going to be happy, about this. About his dog, about our surrogate, about the baby. That is not the news he needed. But you called, he deserves to know.

“What’s wrong love?” He answer his tone tired and muddled. Evidently, you woke him up.

“I have bad news,” you begin.

He couldn’t come back early, he was deployed in a foreign country. The news was bad and you know Simon would be worried until he gets back. More for you— he’s worried about your feelings. Sweet man.

He liked Anne. She was bubbly and kind. Happy to be a surrogate and a babysitter if needed. A friend’s friend. He wasn’t so sure about her but you could tell she had grown on him. She was a surrogate a few times.

The funeral was shocking. The culprits never caught— of course, they wouldn’t, you handle it. You called your contacts and told them to leave the bodies out for the police to find— victims of a gang shootout. You have Anne’s remaining family and a small sense of peace.

A week passes and you continue to look for another Surrogate. Adoption came to mind, you were adopted. Not by the best people— they used you like a child soldier… so be it. Your child will be happy, you promise them that.

Would Simon consider adoption?

Does he even want children after this… mess?

You checked in on Riley his wounds were recovering nicely. You rest in your bed sleeping soundly. Your husband be back in two days.

The loud sharp squeal of Riley awoken you to a house of eerie cold silence. You scramble to your feet and go looking for Riley, maybe he opened up his wound. You appear at the top of the stairs to see— that bastard.

“Arseni.” You called out coldly in Russian, as you slowly descended down the steps. Once a brother in arms, a friend, now he’s in your house beating your dog.

“Mx. Wick,” his thick Russian accent twists into a cold sneer as he inches closer to you. “You killed my son!” He screams in Russian. You cock your head to the side, as one of his men kicks Riley to the side. He let out a loud whimper and crashed into the ground. Unmoving and still.

Your cheeks feel like a molten and a burning hell fire seers into your cheek. You clench your hands until your knuckles turn white. Your nose flares, lips pull back into a sneer. You stared at Arseni, ready to punch him.

A sharp pain seers into your abdomen as one of his followers shoots you, three rush forward with metal bats and begin to beat you. You let out a low groan as the metal left large bruises on your right side. Your head rings out in agony as one hit you in the head. Your vision blurs violently as it slowly goes blotchy and red.

You kick one of them and rush to the kitchen pulling out knives and trying to get to a hidden gun in the cabinet. The three ran after you, hitting you in the back with their bats. You stumble forward crashing into your marble counter.

Your bloody broken hands grab onto a knife and violently slash the person behind you, cutting one of their neck. You grab him by the back of his head jab the knife up into his neck and watch as the life dies in his scared eyes. You threw his body at the nearest attacker and went for the other.

You shove the knife into his torso and repeatedly punch the man in the face, breaking his nose with the second punch. Blood spewed out like a faucet.

Pew!

A bullet rips through your right biceps and into the side of your cheeks. Before losing momentum. You spat the bullet out and shoved the man in your arms against the last attack. As you did so you repeatedly stabbed the bloody man in your fist in the neck. Blood shoots onto your chest, staining your white shirt red.

You rip the knife out of his neck and face the last attacker. You plunge the knife right into his right eye and he crumbles onto the ground. You stop for a second, breathing hard as your lungs burn from the lack of air. You never stop working out, but your skills truly did become rusty. You rush to the cabinets and retrieve the gun.

You’d tumble back to the living room, your house trashed and photos burning in the middle of the expensive rug you bought. Your lips are pulled into a sharp frowning sneer. You flip the coffee table over smothering the fire pit. You stumble to your dog, Riley whimpers as you touch him, he is alive.

You grab your keys and rush Riley back to the vet, for immediate care. You left him there overnight. As you drive back your body is bruised and sore. As you drive back a car crashes into yours.

“That’s yer hoose?” Soap gawks at the large modern sleek design of the house. It’s large with a large yard— how the bloody hell did Simon afford this?

Gaz pressed his face against the window a wide smile on his face, it was a beautiful home. Price also stared, it was so American in design. It looks like a nightmare to defend with all those windows.

“My partner bought it,” Ghost grunts. His brows knit together as he saw the front door wide open, the window around the door shattered and broken.

“What the fuckin’ hell—“ he floored the car to the garage and rushed out and into his house. His living was a mess blood and dents in the wall.

“[name]!” He shouts. Silence greets him back, and his heart stops. “Riley!” Not even his dog was around.

“What the fuckin’ hell happened here?” Gaz asks slowly walking into the ruined house. Besides the mess, he could tell this house was beautiful, expensive, and enviable.

“Whit hav we got here?” Soap mutters walking deeper into the house his accident seeping into his worried tone.

“Ghost!” He shouts, seeing the three dead men in the kitchen. Ghost tore into the room and froze, his heart sunk and he rushed in checking to see if anyone was his love. They weren’t. He looked around the room and noticed that the cabinet with the hidden gun was open. He looked in, the gun was gone.

Ring ring!

He booked it to his landline a retro thing that you insisted on keeping. He lifts it to his ears.

“Is this… [name]?” A woman asks.

“No, I’m their husband,” Simon states.

“Your dog Riley just came out of Surgery, you can pick him up later today.”

Ghost signs and sets the phone down. The lady had no idea where you went after you dropped off Riley. She did tell him you were covered in blood and looked beaten up. You had refused their help to call the police. His dog is safe— but you were gone, gone with the wind.

What is going on?

His house is messed up. These random bodies are in his house. His spouse missing! What is going on?

His heart bounds violently against his chest as his heart falls. Where where you? Where were you taken? His worst nightmare came true— losing you. His hands slightly shake and he lets out a long sigh.

“You ok mate?” Gaz asks touching him on his shoulder.

“My partner is missing.” Ghost simply states. He walked to the garage, your car was gone. Your really nice vintage car is gone. His brows furrow together as anxiety sets in.

Ghost walks back into his house and pulls out his phone to call you. He hears the faint ring of your ringtone upstairs. The second floor was normal, with no destruction. In your shared room the lamp was still on, and blankets were thrown to the side.

He walked back downstairs trying to think. His eyes widened and he pulled his computer out. Sometimes he forgot about the security cameras he hid in this house, in the panic he had forgotten he set them up. The task for gather around to see what’s going on.

Simon’s blood rushed away from his cheeks, and he paled at the sight. His love, his light being beaten to a bloody pulp on the floor by some thugs. He switches cameras to the kitchen and to his shock he witnesses you kill all three. He could have mistaken the first kill as an accident. But the others look calculating, methodical— you could fight?

He hadn’t brought up self-defense classes yet. He wanted to, just in case his job would affect you and the baby…

“Damn, they can fight,” Gaz mumbled with awe. He switches back to the living room camera and watches as you flip the dining room table over to put out the fire scoop up Riley and drive off.

“I didn’t know your spouse could speak Russian,” Price mumbles rubbing his chin.

“Neither did I,” Ghost furrowed his brow. What were you hiding?

Ring ring.

Ghost stands up and answers the phone, his heart falls into the pit into the pit of his stomach. His hands slightly tremble, your prize car was found run off the road in a hit-and-run, and you were nowhere to be found.

“Mx. Wick,” you look at the concierge of the continental Hecate and smile politely. It took a few hours to get to the Continental Hotel.

“Make me a dinner reservation,” you calmly state. You had to get rid of the bodies in your house before your husband got home. She smiles and nods and makes the call for your residence.

You slide a coin over, “I like a room,” she smiles and nods setting a room up for you. You left the hotel and moved down the sketchy alleyway until you found an Asian restaurant. You knocked on the door as an old man appeared— a doctor.

“Doctor,” you greet.

“Mx. Wick,” he greets back letting you in. He was a black-market doctor. He patched you up and you limp back to the continental and heading back to sleep nicely.

You had asked Hecate to set up a meeting with the manager, Bereket Gerhold, you needed him to set up a meeting with Arseni. You sign close the curtains and go to sleep.

You’ll call Simon once this is all over. He must be worried. You aren’t the type to leave him— in the dark. He’s probably worried sick… you weren’t planning on leaving him high and dry after bringing his work friends over. How embarrassing, what a mess. You hope he didn’t find the bodies, how do you explain that? Any of this? You have a sleepless night.

Simon stared at the CCTV. He’s in shock, your Ford Mustang Mach 1, was slammed into violently by a black Mercedes. He watched it over and over again. How the Mercedes shoved your prized car out of the frame and into an abandoned warehouse where the cameras were long broken.

A bus came around. There was nobody left behind, just blood and broken car parts. Ghost caught a glimpse of the logo, the Continental Hotel. He thanks the police and leaves the station to find his team waiting for him.

“Where ur we gonna go?” Soap asks as Ghost reapproves the care.

“The continental hotel,” he states gruffly.

“There’s one in New York City, mate,” Gaz spoke up after looking up the hotel.

They drove off. Ghost had been to the hotel, he had seen it here and there. It’s an international hotel, for the rich. What were you doing there? He knows you’re rich but why go to a hotel and not the hospital? Not call him?

It’s late when they arrive at the continental. They walked in and people turned to them. They were outsiders— out of place. They ignore them and continue to walk to the front door.

“May I help you?” A woman asks.

“I want to know if my spouse is here.” Ghost firmly states.

“Name?” The woman asks.

“[name] Riley.”

“We have no one under that name.”

“…[Name] Wick.” The woman stops and looks up at him before a pleasant smile graces her lips. She picked up a phone and called someone. Simon felt his heart race, you were here.

“There are guests down here for you,” the woman says. She nods and hangs up. She handed over a key and told him the room number.

You sigh and stare at the door. Simon will be here soon. You change out of your bloody clothes and into a bathrobe. You chuck your bloody close into the bathtub.

You freeze and look at the door. The door handle slowly turns. You frown as a woman walks through the door a gun in hand. Arseni must have put a price on your head.

“Cordula,” you greet politely. “Wrong room?”

“Right room,” she pulls out her gun you just manage to dodge the bullet. You lunge at her wrestling her to the ground. She knees you in the groans a few times but you don’t let go slamming her back repeatedly into the ground.

She wrestled her hand free and shot you in the shoulder. You wince and let go of her. You back off holding your left shoulder. The door burst open and you see the burly body of your husband. He froze, seeing Cordula with a gun. Before she could even move to point it at him he had her on the ground pinned.

“Soap!” He calls in a Mohawk man steps in and switches places with him.

“My love!” He pulls you into a deep hug. He mumbles worriedly into your ear, “Why aren’t you at the hospital?” He pulls slightly away to gaze at your face. Touching it with tender care and love.

His eyes widen as he notices the blood oozing from your left shoulder. Something hit you in the side and you fall into his arms someone from outside of the hotel shot you in the side. Simon grabbed you and rushed you away from the window and out of the room.

“Shit,” you grumble in more pain. Now both sides of your torso have a gun wound.

“Gaz call the police—“

“Don’t.” You snap. You stagger to your feet and knock on the door next to your room. A familiar man answered it.

“Mx. Wick,” he greets everyone shocked, “are you working again.”

“No, can I narrow your phone?” You ask politely and a little curtly. Velimer steps aside and lets you in.

You call Hecate and tell her of the situation of the attempted murder on the continental ground by Cordula and the assassin out of the continental. She was understanding but a little dismissive.

“My husband almost called the police, I advise you to solve this, also summon the doctor to the continental I’ll be at the bar.” You hang up and give a curt nod to your neighbor.

“Let’s go downstairs,” you tell your husband and his friends.

“What do we do with her?”

“Bring her along the continental will deal with her.” You stagger off to the elevator. Simon snapped out of his shock and moved to support you even though you couldn't stand.

“You need to go to the hospital now.” He urges worry laced into his tone. You needed to tell him the truth but where do you begin? What do you say? How do you explain the madness of the underground crime world to an outsider?

Hecate was waiting for you when the elevator door opened. She took Cordula and you know her life is at an end. You stagger off to the bar. Your husband frowns watching as the strange concierge takes your attacker away.

Why were you so calm? What is going on? Why aren’t you going to the hospital? So many thoughts run through his mind as he chases after you.

“Love,” he calls out, “you need to go to the hospital, not the bar.”

“Relax—“

“You are bleeding!” He snaps not directly at you but at the whole situation. He’s stressed and very on edge. The one thing he spent years trying to protect is injured and he has no idea why. How wasn’t safe, this hotel isn’t safe, sure the hospital would be safer than here.

“Simon,” you sigh, he wouldn’t understand, “I am the safest here.” He looks at you strangely and watches as you walk to the bar.

Ghost stared at your staggering shuffle. Why were you acting so strange? He turns around to turn to his team. They had the same look. The strange woman comes back and Ghost approaches her.

“What is going on?”

“What do you mean?” She asks politely.

“Why did she attack my spouse?” He asks in a low dark tone. The woman pursed her lips before breaking into a smile.

“Codula broke the rules—“

“What rules?” Soap steps toward.

“The rules of the continental.” The woman smiles.

An old staggering man rushes into the hotel, the clerk points towards the bar and he waves rushing by with a man old fashion doctor's bag.

“Who’s attacking my spouse?”

“Have they not told you?” The woman leans forward. Ghost looks down at her tag, Hecate. She smiles.

Ghost backed up and b-lined it to the bar. He found you sitting in a recliner getting your shoulder wound checked out.

“My love,” he calls out his tone shaky but stern. You look with tired eyes and his heart aches in pain. You look so exhausted and tired. Are you scared?

“Who’s attacking you?”

“His name is Arseni Anastas—“

“The Russian mafia boss!” His eyes widen. He rushes over grabbing your hand gingerly and with care.

“What happened?” He searches your eyes with a worried expression. Your calm gaze didn’t help ease him, were you just petrified that you just couldn’t comprehend what was going on?

You calmly pull out a cigarette which is something you do only in times of stress if the furrowed brow deepens. You took a puff and blew out the smoke.

“Simon,” you softly stare leaning your forehead against his. “What I will tell you will change your opinion of me forever, you might hate me, you might want to leave me, but can you promise me you’ll listen?” You ask holding your pinky out for a promise.

“Promise,” he utters linking his pinky with yours.

“I am a former hitman. Arseni Anastas is targeting me because I recently killed his son, who killed our surrogate and child.” You answer with a concise tone.

He bolts up and takes a walking lap around you and the doctor who moved down to your torso to clean the wound. He looked at you before looking away there was a pained look in his gaze.

“Why didn’t you walk away?” He finally asks.

“Anne didn’t deserve to die like that,” you state taking another drag of the cigarette, “besides I found those fuckers after they did it. They weren’t remorseful.” You hum.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I didn’t realize it was Arseni’s bastard son… still would have killed him.” You hum. The doctor finishes up and you hand over a gold coin. He gives you a nod before hustling away.

“Would you and your friends like drinks?” You turn to your passing husband.

“Don’t run away from this conversation—“

“I’m not Simon, but I hate for your friends to stand around clueless. So let me get them some drinks and you can collect your thoughts before we talk again.” Your state.

Ghost and look at you eyes widening, Are you always this commanding? It’s so different. You used to go with the flow. He watches as you walk out of the bar dragged his team to the bar and paid for their first few drinks.

They sat at the counter giving you two some space. You got Simon some whisky and sat it down on the table and sat on the recliner again. You gesture to the other seat and Simon sat down.

“How long?”

“I’ve been one my entire life raised in this— economy.” You hum taking in another drag of the cigarette and letting the smoke set in your lungs before breathing it out.

“When did you quit?”

“Right before our wedding.” He stared at his glass of whisky. He couldn’t look at you.

“You lied about your job—“

“It’s my part-time job,” you correct, “it wasn’t a lie just not the full truth.” He down the drink and look you in the eyes. There was nothing but betrayal in his gaze. How could he ever trust you again?

“Is that where you got all this… blood money?”

“… Naturally.” He felt his gaze burn into your face searching for humanity. You like to look away but that is cruel for him, he deserves to know.

“So my dog was hurt because of you.” You take a sip of your bourbon and sigh. You feel the divorce coming.

“Arseni’s son…. Would have mugged me either way and you trained Riley to defend me, he would have gotten hurt either way. I saw red that night and killed him and his friends.”

You look into his pained eyes. He could barely look at you. You set your drink barely drink on the table and leaned in. Letting the smoke of your preferred poison ruin your mind for a microsecond.

“Simon, they broke continental rules trying to kill me.” You tilt your head and stare at him, “I am more dangerous than Arseni.”

You stand up and look at his friends before turning back to Simon, “Go home, let me handle this.”

“Are ye crazy,” the two of you turn around to see the Mohawk one, Soap was it… yelling “Ghost yer gonna let them do ‘is by themselves?” You turn back to your husband, Ghost? He looked at you.

“What’s your plan?” Simon asks after a moment of silence. You know he worked hard on controlling his emotions, he didn’t want to be like his father.

“I’m going to have a meeting with Arseni, he leaves me alone or I kill him.” You state. He frowns, that wasn’t a plan.

“Do you know what you're doing?”

“Yes, Sí I’ve been killing far longer than you, do you know what you're doing?” I ask. Not to be condescending but as a warning. He looked at you, you didn’t know to ask condescending questions, so he didn’t take it as that.

“And how do you know he won’t shoot you before the meeting.”

“You can’t kill on continental ground.” You state. They all look at you strangely. They all had the same look, what kind of rule is that?

“Surely you do realize the underground world is far older than your government? Then your military? Then the political wars? I live in a world of honor and regulations. I am the safest here.” You reiterate your words from before. You could see realization dawn on his face.

“How are you going to… kill him? What if he stays here permanently? You won’t be able to kill him,” Simon states.

“Well… your CIA friend must be looking for him. Either I get him or your government gets him.”

“So you're using us—“

“Don't overthink it, love,” you said looking down at him, “my other plan was to scorch the earth. Originally I was going to hunt him down… personally that’s still my preferred method but I like to end this as on as possible.”

“Damn Ghost yoo found yourself a spitfire!”! Soap cheers which earned him a glare.

“Oh,” your turn back to Simon. “I owe a Blood Oath to an Italian mobster.”

“What does that mean?” He leans back folding his arms. He’s guarding himself from you.

“If he comes to find me, I must do what he asks. It is a blood debt.” You state firmly.

“And why do you owe him one?”

“Because I left this life to marry you.” You state which took him by surprise.

“Can we talk in the lobby?” Simon asks setting his empty glass down. The confusion was gone and he made up his mind, or at least he came to redemption.

You two walk into the semi-quiet lobby the air conditioning drowning out some of the muttering of other people. A few turn to you, of course, they did. You two found a small corner to stand and talk.

“…why didn’t you tell me?” That was all he could say.

“I didn’t want to chase you away.” You honestly tell him. He cups your face rubbing his thumb tenderly against your cheeks.

“I wish you told me before all this.”

“This is pretty last minute.” He slightly cracks a smile.

“Let me help you.” He murmurs pulling you into a hug.

“I don’t want you getting hurt.” You mutter back.

“[name] I can’t know you're doing something dangerous without me… I can’t lose you, too.” You pulled you close and kissed your lips tenderly. As you pull away you see the manager walking in.

”[name],” you pull away and he turns around to look at the older man. He’s in his 50s or 60s by the look of him.

“Berket,” you greet walking up to him.

“And what do I owe the pleasure of Mx. Wick?” He asks with a fond smile.

“Set up a meeting with Arseni, I like to chat.” You fold your arm.

“Why?”

“Simply we need to chat,” he stared into your eyes before nodding.

“You must be their husband,” Berket turns to Simon with a strange smile looking up and down.

Ghost felt his body tense under his gaze. He gently grabs onto your arm protectively. He didn’t like this man, how he talked to you like you were a child. It infuriated him.

“They did quite a lot to leave this life for you, an almost impossible task.” He walks past and towards Hecate.

“What does he mean, love?” He asks softly still holding onto your arm. His grip travels down and he laces his fingers with yours.

“To leave this world you must do something major, most can’t do the task that is asked of them. I was able to, after getting help— the blood Oath.” You explain.

“You’re not truly out are you?” He mutters pulling you into a hug once more.

“Not fully, once I finish that blood Oath I will be.”

“Are you sure?”

“I hope so.” He frowns as he studies your face.

“What did you get us into?” He murmurs before lifting your chin to kiss you deeply.

“Us?” You ask.

“Us.”

“Who knows,” you murmur.

“Let’s get back to the others and figure out an actual place,” he takes you by the hand and walks back for the bar. “And we can get you some clothes later.”

You blink a few times before chucking, “I forgot I was wearing a robe.” He chuckles and you find the three chatting with the bartender.

“Is there a private place to talk?” He asks me.

“Go get them and I’ll talk with Hecate.” You hum. As you turn to leave he didn’t immediately let go he looked at you longingly before slowly letting go. He watched you leave.

You approach Hecate, “I need to use your armory.”

“Why?”

“Need a quiet and safe place to talk with my husband and his colleagues, my hotel room isn’t safe.” She froze for a second before smiling.

“Of course.”

“Will you also bring me a new suit?” You ask. She nods. You turn around to see all four men walking towards you.

Hecate walked us to the vault and the men froze gazing at the wall-to-wall guns on display and a nice couch in the middle. You sit down on the couch, your husband joining you. The other leaned Against the wall or checked out the guns.

“Why so many guns?” One asks. The other one, besides Soap, pulled out a cigar and began to smoke.

“Safety protocols.” He turns to you confused.

“So the plan?” The cigar man asks.

“Arseni Anastas leader of the Russian Mafia will be coming here for a meeting with me, with the help of the manager,” you start.

“We can contact Laswell to see if they are looking for him,” Simon speaks up.

“We can call the police swat team—“

“We bought them out,” you state interrupting Soap.

“The FBI will have to send their people, people who have nothing to do with this hotel chain or this world.” You state fiddling with the helm of your robe.

“So this place is highly corrupt?” Cigar man asks.

“Completely.” You state looking at all of them. The room grew silent as each began to think.

“Can’t you just kill him?” Soap asks.

“I can but not on continental grounds. I’m bound by rules.” He nods.

“Let’s contact Laswell, she might have a plan.” They nod. The cigar man pulled out his phone and began to call someone.

“So…” the dad cap man begins, “is the… Baba Yaga real?” He asks.

“Yeah is he?”

“Gaz, Soap,” Simon said sternly.

“What?” Dad Cap asks, “If their other hitmans out there surely the Baba Yaga is real!” Soap and Gaz turn to you expectingly.

“Yeah Baba Yaga is real.” You sigh, you forgot about your notoriety, you forgot to tell your husband. This could break your relationship again… fuck!

“Who? Baba Yaga hasn’t been seen in years did he finally die?” Gaz folds his arms speculating.

“No.”

“Then what happened?”

“I retired.”

“Oh— Your Baba Yaga?” Soap said his eyes widening in shock. You since at his volume.

“Yeah.” He looked you up and down, you didn’t look like much. You could see Simon staring at you in shock as betrayal clouds his eyes again.

“Only the Baba Yaga could do what the high table asks and leave this hellish world alive.” You tell him sternly.

“So… you know… we are hunting you?” Gaz mumbles.

“Figured.” You state standing up as Hecate walks in with a nicely pressed suit tailored to your body “I’m shocked you hunting me when all my targets have been other criminals.” You hum as you begin to put on the pants.

“How did you track down Azhar Maktar when we couldn’t even find him?” Soap asks watching you intently as you change into the black suit.

“The continental and a few connections,” you state.

“I see… will the continental help us.”

“I doubt it, you can ask but they will turn you down.” You tell them. You put on the white dress shirt hiding behind Simon’s body to as you change. You walk from behind him suit on and ready to slay.

“Can you help us locate another man?” Soap asks.

“Who?”

“Vladimir Makarov,” your face scrunches up. Hearing that familiar name.

“That bastard.” You mumble.

“You know him?”

“Met the motherfucker on a mission, got in my way so I beat him near death. Since then every few years he sends men after me trying to kill me.” You wave your hands before walking to the wall and looking for a nice gun to have.

“Do you know where he is?”

“No, my guess is somewhere nowhere Russia.” Soap groans and looks at you with slight disappointment.

“Is Makarov part of the underground network?” Simon finally asks.

“I’m not sure, I haven’t heard of him, but he could be using a proxy.” You explain, too which he nods.

“Alright,” you all turn to the cigar man who sets the phone down. “There is a warrant on Arseni Anastas. We are given the authority to get him.” He tells his crew. They all nod.

“We’ll have to drop by a base—“

“Too far,” you inturupt Gaz. “You’ll have to work like a hitman. Let’s get you suits.” You turn to them with a wicked smile. They all look at you confusingly.

“What will a suit do?” Gaz asks.

“Besides fitting in with the continental it can also protect you from bullets unless you want to risk it.” He nods.

“So where do we get the suits?” Cigar man asks.

“I know a place. We’ll borrow a car from the continental and drive there.” You explain.

“You stay here,” Simon immediately states. He looks down at you with a serious expression, “You're the target.” You sigh but nod.

“Before you go you need to know a few things.” You state pulling out a notepad. You wrote down two addresses, one for a tailor and another for a Sommelier.

“When you go to the Sommelier ask for him and when you meet him ask for a tasting. If you don’t like what he gives ask for something robust,” they stared at you a little confusingly, “Simon in your case ask for dessert.”

“Why?” Gaz slowly asks.

“We talk in code,” you explain.

“When you go to the tailor and ask for an Italian suit, it’s for a social event, tactical lining, and rush to order. Have it delivered to the hotel, got it?” You tell them. They all nod committing your words to memories.

“Let me get some coins,” you murmur.

“Coins?”

“You need to pay for it somehow.” You walk off and walk back to your destroyed hotel room. You retrieved a handful of coins and pocketed it.

“Here,” you hand over the coins to your husband. He looked at them weirdly. “Assassin currency pays what they ask for.” He nods and studies your face.

“We’ll be back soon,” Simon kisses you on the forehead.

As they depart the hotel you let out a sigh and sit down at the bar. You order another round of bourbon and smoked another cigarette. You mind your own business as people come in and out.

A few hours passed before they returned. They looked a little frazzled and very warn out. Simon sat across from you and handed over the unused coins.

“What— that was an experience.” Soap mumbles pulling a chair up next to you.

“Are those guns legal here?”

“Yes,” you answer, “yes it is.”

“So… what now?” Simon asks.

“It’ll be a few days until the suit will be done.” You begin putting out your cigarette on the ashtray. They spent their time casing out the continental waiting for their suits to be made.

Simon spent most of his time around you, asking questions here and there. You could tell with every answer you gave stressed him out even more. You pitted him, this must be so… daunting to learn.

“Love,” you look over to see your husband walking up to you.

“Yes?”

“Let’s go over the plan again,” you sigh but nod. It’s the twentieth time he asks but you know it comes from a place of pure love.

“We’ll be having this meeting in the bar. Gaz and Soap will be sitting at the bar while you and Price watch on from the lobby.” You recite again. He nods along.

“I rather be inside the room.” He spoke up finally telling you his honest desire. You looked at him. His team agreed he shouldn’t be in the room and so did you. Not because you didn’t want him there, just if it gets tense, you didn’t want him to see you at your worst.

“It’s not up to me,” you state, but to some degree it was. He turns to you eyes full of worries and grief, eyes that seem to study you with every second his gaze lingers. You knew he was trying to remember everything about you, your face, your smile, your voice, everything.

“It’s going to be ok,” you reassure him. You touch his thigh and he gazes down at your hand. He slowly nods.

“Promise me you won’t do anything drastic.”

“I promise.”

“Wow… these suits are, are almost perfect,” Soap mused to himself as he moved his arms up and down.

“It still feels a little constrictive.” Gaz mutter.

“Italians like to hug so the suits are a little more comfortable to move around in them.” You explain as you pick up a knife and slip it up your sleeve.

“I feel like James Bond,” Gaz smiled looking at himself in the mirror.

You slightly smile and look over to your husband who silently watches you. You give him a reassuring nod before getting up.

“Are you ready men,” you look over to see their Captain, Price speak up. They nod and head out, leaving you and Simon one last moment of peace.

He pulls you close to him and softly kisses you one last time. It was far longer than any kiss he had ever given. It was a goodbye as it was a final “I love you.”

“Be safe.”

“Of course,” he left the room.

If it was anyone else besides your husband you would have laughed. Be safe… You’re the Baba Yaga, you have no need to worry. You sigh and look around the room. Your anxiety is kicking in even though you’ve done this a hundred times… was it because you have something to lose now?

Ring ring

Your hotel phone goes off, you stand up put your cigarette out in the ashtray, and lift the phone.

“Yes?” You answer.

“Arseni Anastas is here.” You thank Hecate and exit your room. You made your way down to the bar. As you enter the lobby you find both your husband and the captain sitting At opposite places slowly studying everyone’s movement.

You round the corner to the bar and there surrounded by a few men was Arseni. He turns to you with this wicked cold glare. You sat across from him.

“Arseni,” you greeted coldly.

“Wick,” he sneers back, “come to beg from my forgiveness?”

“Hardly, I am asking you to walk away from this—“

“You killed my son!” He roars before falling back to Russian insults.

“And you’re done killing my surrogate and child,” you coldly stated. He turns back to you annoyed and frustrated.

“I’ll give up when he’ll freeze over.” You stood up lit another cigarette and stared down at him.

“Then let’s take this outside off of continental grounds.” You suggest moving away from the plans.

“I’ll kill you one way or another!”

Creak!

The window to the bar shatters as a bullet hits your bulletproof vest. You sense and take cover. Arseni that fool! His men turn on you guns ready. But then both Gaz and Soap caught on to the madness.

Bullets fly across the continental bar. You see Arseni and a few of his men rush for the exit. You scramble to your feet and chase after him.

“[name!],” your husband shouted but you were out the doors. You grab the onto your suit and use it to hide your head.

As the last bodyguard left continental grounds you unsheathed your knife and stabbed him in the neck. You restless the gun from him and shot him dead.

Ba ba ba!

It hit your suit. You winced in pain. Though they stopped the bullet they did not stop it from hurting like hell. You shot two more dead. A few other hitmen came rushing out, they were waiting for you.

You lungs behind a car and check how many rounds you have left. You sigh and begin to quickly take out the hire hit. You changed up to a semiautomatic gun and mode down two more.

Arseni jumped into a car and knocked out an assassin on a motorcycle. You hopped on and raced after them, leaving the continental behind.

You chased him down to a run-down building. You groan realizing this will be a shoot-out. You enter the building slowly ready to kill your target.

They came flooding out like ants to a food pile. It was almost like an all-you-can-eat buffet. They made it so easy. You swing around ducking and dodging as you take out one person after another. Every once in a while exchanging your gun out for a newer one.

By the time you reach the final door, you are completely out of it. You were very rusty, in your skills but it seems like your body hasn’t forgotten. You know tomorrow you be sore.

“In here!” You froze and duck down behind the railing and look to see who just arrived. To your shock, it was your husband and his friends.

“[name]?” Simon calls out.

“Here,” you shout back before standing up.

“You were supposed to wait!” He worriedly stated anger laced with in his tone.

“Did you do this?” Gaz asks seeing the dead boy littering the ground.

“One last room,” you state.

“Let us handle it.” You looked at your husband before sighing and nodding.

You stared at the door, your hands itching to enter. The door slowly opens in in their costing was Arseni. He looked at you with vile and hate.

“You're a filthy pig,” he snarls. Soap pushed him forward and walked him away.

“Finally this is over.”

“I doubt it’s that simple.”

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8.4K Words

@makandcheeses, @100percentlazybonez, @selinbaskaya

#cod x reader #141 #call of duty #simon ghost riley #captain price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #modern warfare 2 #cod #cod mw2 #john wick

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