#so I think the way information is trickling in is affective for the most part | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

goingmorry · 3 years

Text

PICTURE PERFECT [Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader]

Synopsis: It occurs to you that maybe – just maybe – Law’s more affected by your near-death experience than you are. And, oh, do you intend to use that to your advantage.

Tags: female reader, hurt/comfort, photography AU, idiots to lovers

Word Count: 3,096

Author's Note: This is my entry for @quirkyseastone Em's 1,000 Follower Event: Brew a Love Potion Challenge based on this potion. I had so much trouble writing this, but I had so much fun participating. I had a vision for this story, and it definitely did look all nice and pretty in my head, but when I finally put it down on paper, it’s like… yeah. Anywho, I hope it didn’t fall too flat and that you get some kick out of reading this. Thank you so much! 💖🥰

“Your devil fruit power. How does it work?”

Uncomfortable with his line of questioning, you shrug nonchalantly, hoping that the bits and pieces of information you relay are enough to sate his curiosity for the time being.

With the way Law lazily appraises you — tattooed fingers fidgeting with a bottle of ink, and feet casually propped up on the desk, the pointy edges of his boots threatening to stab you for your potential dishonesty (or so you think) — you can’t help but wonder if he’s had a lot of success asking this same question countless times to… much less savory folks.

In this case, a little trickle truth might not hurt then.

“I take photos of people, things, anything really,” you begin, albeit vaguely, your eyes wandering anywhere but at the languid pirate sitting across from you, “And it shows me their… origins.”

His lips twitch, the corner of his mouth curling upward in amusement at your poor explanation, before settling with, “I’ll need a lot more information than that if we’re going to be boarding the same ship.”

“It's nothing fancy; promise. And it's way less intriguing than yours,” you mutter, shifting in your seat.

“I'll be the judge of that.”

Biting your lip at his intrusive behavior, you eye him warily, waiting to be bombarded with the next round of questions, but not before sneaking in a question of your own.

Two can play at that game.

“How does your devil fruit work?”

If he's bothered by your sudden inquiry, Law doesn't comment, choosing instead to plant his previously elevated feet on the ground as he sits upright. Your eyes follow his inked fingers as he nimbly sets aside the object he was fiddling with earlier on the corner of his desk.

And then he smirks, that infuriating smirk of his, the one that implies a deep, dark secret that you're not privy to, and alarm bells start to ring in your head – making you want to wring his neck in frustration or slap his stupidly handsome face silly. You can't quite decide on which route would bring you the most satisfaction.

An uncomfortable silence settles in, but before you can act on your impulse, he breaks it with his low baritone voice.

“You can go.”

Surprise flits across your face before confusion sets. “That's… it?”

“For now.”

Your face falls because what exactly were you expecting? Of course, he'd table this conversation for another time, most likely after you've settled in and gotten cozy with the rest of his crew.

When you were least opposed to sharing this part of your story.

But you don't dwell on that and instead touch on the real reason for your visit, “Does that mean I'm officially part of the Heart Pirates?”

“Yes.”

Law doesn't elaborate any further, and there's nothing else you can think to say in response.

So you turn to leave, your hand gripping the side of the doorframe, but not before asking one last question to your new Captain, “Anything else I should know?”

Golden eyes lingering on the camera strapped to your neck, he scowls at the device and says, with no room for argument.

“In the meantime, no photos.”

For a second, the weight of his words seizes all range of your motion, and you nearly bang your head on the door from his request – no, command. The only upside to this encounter was that you didn't make a further fool of yourself – more than you already have, from the looks of it – as you exit his chambers with your head held high.

II.

Several months pass by when you decide to disobey his order. And truth be told, he's surprised that you lasted this long.

It's a quiet night when he finds this out.

III.

Rubbing the tiredness from his eyes, Law looks to the clock hanging in the corner of his room, scowling at the placement of its hands.

10:37 PM.

Way past dinner time.

Earlier that evening, Bepo had stopped by to remind him to go down for dinner, letting slip that the chef prepared his favorite dishes of rice balls and grilled fish in a convincing attempt to entice their Captain to eat at a reasonable timeframe. Having been preoccupied with an overflowing amount of paperwork, Law let out a groan and refused, saying that he'd be down shortly for a quick bite.

So much for that.

Releasing a shaky breath, he silently heads toward the mess hall, unsurprised by the lack of people upon his arrival.

In the lonely comfort of the kitchen, he arranges a quick bite to eat — leftovers of his favorite dishes thoughtfully set aside. Scarfing down his meal in record time, Law promptly tidies up after himself. But before he can retire back to his bedroom, a cluster of papers stuck into the wall catches his eye. Upon closer inspection, he narrows his eyes and frowns, fingertips hesitantly skimming over the colored prints.

Photos.

Joyful memories of his crew taken by you. Group photos with everyone making silly faces and hand signs, looking like one big happy family.

Candid photos of his men expressing various levels of joy — ranging from small smiles to full-blown crying waves of laughter — atypical of an infamously dangerous pirate crew.

Chaotic moments in the heat of battle. Bepo in Sulong form, illuminated by the pale moonlight, looking every bit as terrifying as the tales depicted the Minks' transformations to be. Penguin standing his ground while engaging an enemy Marine, sword confidently brandished and poised to strike. Shachi examining an injured crewmember, shielding their body in a protective manner, dark eyes glaring with murderous intent at the assailant.

There were images taken during your adventures throughout the Grand Line, celebrating the crew's accomplishments in chronological fashion, almost like a sentimental picture book one might have as a keepsake to pass down to future generations.

Soft footsteps pad from behind him, and yet he doesn't need to turn around to know that they're from you.

“I said no photos.”

“You didn't exactly specify what kind of photos weren't allowed,” you explain sheepishly, stopping a few feet away from him, “So I took it to mean no photos of you, which is perfectly fair, by the way.”

Gritting his teeth in annoyance, Law coldly glances at you, the specks of gold in his eyes shining in displeasure mixed with — gods — you couldn't quite say, causing you to wince involuntarily. He doesn't confirm or deny your assumptions, instead opting for silence.

His lack of response is maddening, so you muster up the courage and cut to the heart of the matter.

“Can you at least tell me why?”

You already know why.

Or at least you think you do, in the short time you've known him.

And yet, a part of you craves to hear the words spill from his mouth — to feed your rising curiosity for the tattooed pirate standing within arm's reach.

He doesn't give you the satisfaction you seek, leaving you to your wandering thoughts as you stare at the neglected photo collection, disappointment clouding your judgment and your heart.

IV.

When you next talk, for longer than five minutes this time, it's your ass on the line.

Getting knocked overboard in the middle of a thunderstorm was certainly not on your list of things to do before departing from this cruel world. And drowning from your lungs being submerged in water, your corpse floating across the seas, never to be recovered again, was definitely not how you envisioned your death.

You were expecting something more gallant, like a bullet to your heart or a sword cut to your chest to commemorate your short life of piracy.

Not this.

Conveniently leaving out the part where your current predicament was all due to your penchant for rebelliousness, you fight to keep your head above the water against the crashing waves, desperately hoping for someone to spot you.

“There she is! She's sinking too fast, Captain!”

Law locates you almost immediately, using his devil fruit powers to bring you aboard his vessel. You've never felt so happy to be on all-fours atop the floorboards of the Polar Tang, sputtering mouthfuls of water to empty the excess liquid in your lungs. At your heaving, the winds roar in anger, mimicking the raging seas that were so hellbent on swallowing you whole.

A few words are exchanged between Captain and crew, and then you find yourself transported to the examination room.

“Strip—” he says without delay, turning away from you to give you some semblance of privacy, ”I brought you a change of clothes.”

Too exhausted to focus on how his initial comment can be misconstrued, you oblige, shedding your drenched clothing and fisting them into a ball for easy gathering. When you're fully clothed again, you examine the sad state of affairs that is your soaked camera, grabbing a spare towel to dry the water off from the surface. You quickly learn that turning it on does nothing.

No flash of light, no power, just an empty black screen.

“Damn it,” you mutter under your breath, resigned to the fact that your trusty companion for years finally met its end along with the countless photos stored within its memory.

Law hovers over you, a shred of empathy crossing his usually stoic features, and pulls the broken camera from your tight grip to set it aside. His tattooed fingers linger over the underside of your face before lifting your chin.

Making direct eye contact with him proves to be rather difficult, your mind implacably drifting to inappropriate places where he's involved: the scruff of his goatee as it brushes against your smooth skin, the curve of his lips as it settles on your own, the tip of his tongue peeking out from his mouth to seek entrance into your hot cavern — to which you would willingly give a hundred times over — without so much as a complaint.

What would he taste like? You wonder.

Squirming under his calculating gaze and unsure of where else to look, you settle for one of the glass cabinets behind him, distracting yourself from your lustful thoughts by counting the number of medical supplies on each shelf. If Law notices your erratic behavior, which you're positive he does, considering how perceptive he is, he doesn't comment on it, much to your relief.

Because despite knowing that your current situation was between a doctor and a patient — a captain and a subordinate — the proximity does nothing to calm the fluttering of your maiden heart.

“Check up time?” you wheeze, voice hoarse from your constant coughing.

The stethoscope in his hands answers your rhetorical question. With careful precision one finds from a well-trained medical professional, Law takes your vitals, touch remaining clinical and respectful throughout the assessment. Satisfied with the lack of severe symptoms and injuries on your part, he drops the caring doctor persona in favor of being a reprimanding pirate captain.

“What? No 'I told you so?'“ you joke, trying to lighten up the mood, the tension in the air palpable.

“You were sinking,” he states, ”And fast, might I add. If Shachi hadn't found you, you'd be more than six feet under by now.”

“I know, and I'm thankful to him, believe me,” you ramble, ”If he wants me to do his laundry for a month — hell, even a year — I'll do it. I owe him my life.”

Law's scowl deepens, inked fingers rubbing against his temples to relieve the growing headache, “How many times do I have to tell you not to lean forward—”

“I know!” you say defensively, still delirious from your accident, “It's not like I meant to fall over! I was trying to take a photo of the island in the distance. I wouldn't have done this if we just docked over there in the first place.”

“You do this every damn time the ship resurfaces,” he seethes, bright teeth flashing in anger at your pathetic attempt to defuse the situation, “Are you trying to test my patience?”

His posture is rigid, handsome face contorted in barely controlled anger, teetering right on the cusp of losing it. The golden flecks of his eyes burn like molten lava, ready to incinerate you where you stand, the unspoken threat in them evident.

Choose your words carefully, or they may be your last.

It occurs to you that maybe – just maybe – Law’s more affected by your near-death experience than you are.

And, oh, do you intend to use that to your advantage.

“I need some tender loving care here, doc,” you whine, pouting your lips in mock dissatisfaction, “If this is how you treat your patients, I'm not sure I want to be under your care for much longer.”

You swear you can see a vein pop up on his temple, but he tries to hold it together – he really does.

“Are you always this condescending?”

Your lips slightly part at the insult, the atmosphere growing tenser with every passing second of your teasing. You decide to ignore the blatant warning signs and humor him anyway.

“No, I'm just that way with you.”

He recoils from your statement, hands running wildly through his dark locks, an unhinged expression on his face that you've never had the pleasure of witnessing until now.

“Does your life mean so little to you?” he snaps, hand reaching out to grab ahold of your wrist, “Or is this your way of getting my attention?”

Law feels ridiculous for letting the words slip, unwilling to entertain this thing – whatever this thing is – between the two of you, but the flush of your cheeks causes unwarranted hope to bloom in his chest.

You admire the way your hand dwarfs over his, the way the ink contrasts and ripples against his sun-kissed skin, and how much rougher the tips of his fingers are compared to your own. You decide then that it might not be such a bad thing to spiral headfirst into emotional vulnerability, despite your inner voice protesting that nothing good can come from this.

It's now or never, you guess.

“You got me there.”

“Say that again,” he prompts, mimicking your action by throwing all caution to the wind, wanting to make sure that he heard you right the first time.

Your voice is slow and measured this time, cheeks flushed in embarrassment, aware that you've long since stepped past dangerous territory the moment you met with him that fateful day in his quarters. If it weren't for his serious expression, you'd think that he was purposely teasing you.

“Which is it?” he clarifies because your vague response doesn't quite answer his question.

“I crave your attention.”

Law takes a step back as if stung by your confession, causing your hand to fall back onto your lap. It hasn't been more than a few seconds since your separation, and you already miss his warmth.

Holding his gaze unflinchingly, you face him head-on. Your words echo in the enclosed space and his head. It takes a moment for your message to truly sink in now that they're out in the open, and it takes him even longer to dissect your intentions.

You wait for him to give you something – anything – a scalding remark, a disapproving glare, or even the click of his tongue would be preferable to this deafening silence. You bite your lip nervously instead, reigning in the anxiety gnawing at you from the inside, refusing to rush him because doing so could spell disaster for you both.

As a reward for your patience, he meets you halfway.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, he closes the distance, situating himself in the space between your legs. Inhaling sharply at his nearness, you appreciate the way his Adam's apple protrudes from his coarse neck, noticing how the tension in his body seems to have been replaced with a certain calmness that only your presence can provide. Your breathing grows erratic, but the cause of your elevated heart rate isn't unwelcoming this time around.

“You already have my undivided attention.”

When you catch the unmistakable gleam in his golden irises, you gulp because you know trouble is soon to follow, “Law…”

“But you already know that, don't you?” The back of his fingers caresses the smoothness of your cheek, causing your eyes to flutter shut momentarily. In that gentle touch alone, there's no mistaking his infatuation for you.

“Why the sudden shyness?” he laughs, his trademark smirk making a reappearance, “Don’t start what you don’t intend to finish.”

It’s your turn to make a move.

Rising to the occasion, you eye his lips mischievously, reaching up to grab fistfuls of his jacket’s collar. Despite his quick reflexes, he doesn’t anticipate you pulling him down to smash his mouth onto yours.

It’s unplanned. It’s awkward. It’s done in the heat of the moment.

But, boy, does it feel fucking good.

His reaction, however, is instantaneous, maybe because he was seconds away from kissing you himself. What he lacks in foresight, he more than makes up for in action. When he playfully nips your lower lip for entrance, and you eagerly grant him passage, you’re keenly aware of how dangerous this man truly is.

Trafalgar Law reminds you of sweetened nectar; one sip and you’re a goner, the heavenly aftertaste of him potent in your tongue. And it’s far better than what your imagination can ever hope to conjure.

Your restless hands find themselves flat on his broad chest, feeling around the hardened muscles of his torso until the unmistakable beating of his heart pulls you away from your exploration.

“Your heart’s beating fast too!”

His hand fits itself over yours, guiding you away from his traitorous emotions, as though physically moving you away from the rapid beating of his organ is enough to invalidate your statement.

“You’re imagining things.”

You roll your eyes in jest, an endearing smile adorning your kiss-swollen lips, “Whatever you say, Captain.”

And then, he smiles, the first genuine smile since you’ve met, and your heart aches pleasantly at knowing that you are the cause of it. It’s rare moments like these that have your arms twitching involuntarily, seeking the power that photography can provide in preserving this memory forever.

As if sensing your thoughts, he motions to your broken camera with a tilt of his head.

“The next time you take a photo,” Law’s voice is soothing and slightly uneven in volume as he interlocks his fingers with yours.

“Take one of me instead.”

#seas brew a love potion challenge #one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece scenarios #one piece imagines #one piece fanfiction #one piece writing #mywriting

304 notes · View notes

radiosandrecordings · 3 years

Text

Crossposting my @summer-in-the-archives-event fic here too. [AO3] [Accompanying beautiful art]

He’d never get used to the rolling fields of quiet.

Miles behind and miles to go, not that he could see any of it through the thick blanket of fog that clung to his ankles, and his wrists, and his eyes. Miles to go before I sleep…

It was hard to describe the rain that fell, because even ‘fell’ felt like too active a descriptor. It didn’t pour, it didn’t ‘beat down’, it didn’t pelt, because those all required a sense of agency that the landscape just felt too apathetic to muster. It simply existed, and just happened to be moving downwards by coincidence.

Jon wasn’t sure if he knew or Knew that it seeped into his clothes, coating his skin, but he couldn’t even feel the droplets landing, even pinpricks of touch creating too much of a sensation for this place. He briefly wondered that, if he still had need for his glasses, would the rain even make the effort to trickle down and cloud the lenses.

The last Lonely domain he’d passed through, he’d never seen the avatar that lorded over it. He didn’t have any real interest in finding out, not like the personal vendettas that lead him to seeking out Jude, or Jared. Because with Peter dead he wasn’t left with any Lonely avatars left to chase, save the vague notions of the Lukas extended family. He was simply going to keep his head down and keep trudging, hopefully emerging through the thick banks of mist before he lost his mind to the monotony. If there was ever something to make you miss muffled cries from beneath the earth…

“Why are you here?”

The sound was accusatory, and may as well have been a shotgun in the silence. The damped chill was nothing in comparison to the ice that shot up his spine. The voice had no clear origin, no figures even silhouetted in shadow against the overgrown grass, but it came in close, delivered on the gentle, numbing breeze. Despite this, though, never in a thousand domains could he forget the sound of it. Of course it was his. Of course. Of course. “Martin?”

“No! ”

The voice sounded… Angry. But hurt, like it flinched away from the word. Like something that had been left to sit in the dark too long, that recoiled back from a stinging source of light.

“... I’m going to assume no one has called you that in a long time.” He tried to keep his voice light, as much as the stifling atmosphere would allow it.

“No one is anything here. It’s easier that way. If you’re somebody, you can be hurt. If you have too much personality, too many little facets and cracks, things start to snag and catch on it, and it drags you down to where things ache. But if you’re nothing, then they don’t have anything to cling onto. You can just slip away unharmed.” The voice sounded like it was moving, curling around him and moving from ear to ear, forward and back as it droned on in that echoing monotone that Jon had hoped he would never hear again, and at the same time, had longed to.

“And what about the good things?”

“There isn’t anything good, not anymore. You saw to that.”

Jon snorted. “Low blow, but fair.” He hesitated for a moment, trying to summon the words.

He’d had time, after he left the Lonely, to consider his actions. Regret pooled like acid in his stomach at the memory, and somehow it hurt more than ending the world. He wouldn’t say it was more important. He knew whatever he felt, and moreso, knew that one human life, was not paramount to the suffering of every creature great and small, but it felt more tangible. When he walked through the hellscapes, they were dreamlike, hazy, information in such clarity but to an extreme where it still felt nonsensical to perceive it as reality. He knew the fundamental truths that surrounded him but it still felt hard to accept them even as he lived them.

Yet despite having lived without it for eight months prior, the space beside him that failed to solidify into Martin still stung with his absence. And Jon regretted it every not-day he spent walking the hellscape, both in knowing he doomed a good man to suffering, or worse, revelry, in this new world, and in the far more personal, and far more selfish, part of him that missed him so goddamn much.

“But- But Martin, I think I made a mistake.”

“Obviously.”

“Not- Not that. I mean, when we were in the Lonely. The- The first time. With Peter Lukas.” The silence droned on, and Jon took that as his cue to continue. “Do you remember what I said? That maybe you were safer here? And that’s… That’s why I let you stay. I didn’t push you to, to leave with me because I thought you wanted to be here, that you’d be safer here than you’d be with me. But I don’t think that was entirely true.”

“I am safe here.”

“Maybe so. It doesn’t mean it’s better though, does it. Martin, I saw those people, in the last Lonely domain. I know it’s different, they were victims and you’re… You’re an avatar, here, you’re feeding off of all of this, but I promise you they were not happy. They were so alone and it didn’t protect them, it just made it worse. Think about it, the logic of this world. There are threats out there of unimaginable horror, and yet they were still assigned here, it’s their worst nightmare. And you were assigned here too. You’re all suffering, just in different ways, but all calculated to be your personal worst.”

“The Martin Blackwood you thought you knew doesn’t exist anymore. He had to be filed down, too many breaks and tears in him that grew and grew, any time someone raised a harsh word. The best way for him to be protected, is for him to go away entirely. You cannot hurt something that doesn’t exist.”

“Are you sure about that? Because you just said ‘I’.”

“What? ” That anger reemerged again, and as staunched as it was it was beautiful, a return to form amongst the dull monotone, reminiscent of the few times Jon had been privileged enough to witness a truly pissed off Martin Blackwood.

Jon found himself grinning. “You said ‘I am safe here’. Emphasis on the ‘I’. Ergo, you still have some form of identity left, and thus I would wager that the part of you left is Martin. Unless I’ve wandered across some other avatar of the Lonely who sounds like him, of course.”

“You’re always so fucking smug, you know that?”

The voice is coming from behind him. Actually, physically, presently behind him and Jon spins around so fast he’s almost dizzy.

And as much as it made his heart soar, and much as he was glad to finally, finally , see him again when he’d thought he never would, Martin looked… Bad.

His skin had darkened, mottled and blotchy with large swathes of a bruise-like blue or sickly green cropping up across his face and neck, or the parts of his forearms visible where his cable knit sleeves rolled back. It was like frostbite from the cold, or some disturbing onset of trench-foot from the damp, corpselike and unsettling. What was worse, though, were the parts that simply ceased. His hair didn’t even reach the tips, simply fading out into a grey static that merged with the mist, and it consumed his eyes whole, tear tracks streaking down his face in patterns of fuzzy, crackling grey that snapped and popped in the silence, far too reminiscent of a tape.

The sight made Jon’s heart clench like a fist, the combination of relief and horror, and in that moment he understood Jane Prentiss more completely than he ever had before. It would’ve felt like a rude comparison to consciously make, the person he cared for most equated to a pulped and writhing mass that churned out creatures that made your skin crawl before tearing into it. But he knew what she had seen in it, that call towards the thing that fascinated you, despite the turning it causes in your stomach.

Despite this, however, Jon steeled himself. This was rapidly becoming a battle, and he couldn’t afford the cost of emotions. He had to keep Martin, well… Martin. Draw out the emotion. In short, be a bit of a bastard. So instead, he cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you liked that about me?”

He could see Martin’s fists clench, the colour of his extremities dyed black from frostbite. The irritation was still clear as he started into “Fucking hell J-” but they both appeared taken aback as he dissolved into a choking, hacking cough.

It took everything in him for Jon to tamp down the need to surge forward, put a hand on his back and ask if he was okay. It was a strangely mundane thing; the man was made out of static and fog and despite seeming to have an on-and-off-again relationship with his corporeal form, this was the first recognisably human thing to adversely affect him. Why, though? What had Martin done to trigger- Oh. Oh .

“That- That priest from the statement… 0113005? Father Burroughs. He couldn’t say the name of god. Anything related to it, really. And you… You couldn’t say my…”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Martin spat. “You’re not a god or thee god, whatever your new eye magic might imply. It’s just…” He let out a breath that turned into a grumble. While his eyes had always been cloudy, he was now refusing to meet Jon’s gaze.

Regardless, it still drew a breathy laugh out of him. “No, I’m not that far gone into my own self importance yet. But… It’s about the connection, isn’t it?” Something in the conversation had changed, it’s tone or it’s flow, that felt contradicting. Tension coiling up to spring, or they’re barrelling towards a culmination, but at the same time, Jon felt like the wind had been kicked right out of him. He lowered himself to the ground, slowly, settling among the grass and trying to ignore the unpleasant dampness under him. Hey, he could feel the damp again. That was something.

“That’s more flattering, actually, I would say… The Lonely, it thinks if you acknowledge me directly, that would loosen it’s hold on you.” Jon huffed out a breath. “You know I listened to all the tapes. What was it that Daisy said to you, when I was on the run? ‘People say you two are close’? Well, the Lonely appears to agree.” He took a minute before adding, “I would, as well. And, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was too… Too in my own head, before, to admit it. Too much of a coward to do it before that, even. But you need to know I love you. And I know that you… Cared for me, at least? Even if I stuck my head in the sand to ignore it. But the Lonely seems to think you do, still. So will you please come back to me? I know it’s not- I know it won’t be much better, travelling through the domains, but it’s all I can offer and it has to be better than this. I can’t promise anything kind will be waiting for us in London, but you’d be yourself again, and I can’t… Martin, I can’t lose you again. To leave here, again, without you, I’d be losing you. Please.”

“No.”

There wasn’t even a delay to his response, stating it in monotone the second Jon had finished speaking. It felt like ice, lancing through his heart.

“Martin. Martin, please -”

“I said no. I thought you would’ve learned by now; I’m not exactly amenable when you come crawling to me with half baked plans of escape. Because you don’t love me, you love the idea of me. You are quite literally the only free man left in the world and you’re lonely . So you’re looking for a familiar face. Kind Martin, caring Martin, always there with tea and taking your side in every argument. Defending you to Tim when you’d just as soon slag him off behind his back, or on tape. Pretty appealing when everyone else is trying to kill you. At least he treated you like a god before this even started.”

Each sentence felt like another dagger to the chest, and it took him a moment to compose himself, tears forming at the corner of his eyes. Eventually, though, Jon spoke. “That’s not true, though. I- Martin I can’t apologise enough that that’s what it’s felt like, for you. But I need you to know, that isn’t true. A-At the start, maybe, I can’t deny I was stupid and spiteful, but you didn’t deserve any of it. And after that… I didn’t do a one-eighty and decide you were a doormat. I liked you because you were secretly enough of a prick as well. Any time you’d pull me out for lunch when I dragged my heels, or argued back when I said something shitty, that was… It felt like I was seeing the real you. The one you didn’t want to let people think of you as, but the one you were, because despite wanting to appear like the picture of innocence, you are a bitch, Martin Blackwood. And that’s my favourite thing about you. Maybe time is sweetening my memory, slightly, but I truly don’t believe there’s rose coloured glasses here. If we walk out of here, I’m not under any sort of illusion that it’ll be a honeymoon. We will doubtless find something to argue over, if not several, but I want that. I want you at my side to, to disagree and point out all my blind spots. We’re both stubborn bastards but I’m stupidly fallible, and I need you to keep me balanced. I don’t want a yes-man, I want you, Martin, and I’m asking for that knowing full well what it entails.”

When the words stopped flowing, he found himself gasping for breath, sobs building in his chest and threatening to spill over. But Martin was standing closer.

“That’s- I don’t- Fuck.” As Jon looked up, wiping at his own eyes, he could see fog starting to trickle from Martin’s mouth, coming in short bursts as his nostrils flared and chest rose and fell noticeably for the first time that Jon had seen since he stepped foot onto the moors. This caused a conflict of emotion in Jon, because while it seemed to be another step towards humanity, Martin letting the Lonely fall to the wayside in favour of reclaiming himself, it also looked far too close to a panic attack to be something worth celebrating.

“I don’t understand,” he finally settled on, voice cracking on the words. He slowly let himself sink to the ground opposite Jon, knees pulled up to his chest. “I left you. Time and again I left you. I left you to work with Lukas, and I left you when you tried to get me to run away, and I left you when I stayed on the beach.” His palms were pressed into his eyes, mist seeping from between his knuckles as he dragged them across his face, though Jon couldn’t be sure if he was attempting to wipe the fog away, or if he was stalling while he faltered, trying to summon the words. Both, maybe. Jon took the silence from him.

“You didn’t really choose that, though. You didn’t feel like you even had a choice. So Martin if… If you’re worried that I think badly of you for that, I don’t. Martin, I’ve done so many terrible things, so to- No, no, actually I don’t mean it like that. I don’t mean that you’re a good person, compared with me. I think you’re a good person full stop. And I just want you to be able to see that. I know the Lonely is quite literally clouding your judgement right now but… Please, just, just make me a deal?”

Martin’s palms were resting on his chin now, cupping his cheeks and curving around his neck. He nodded once, wearily, for Jon to continue.

Jon drew in a breath “I think I’m in some sort of… Bubble. Like a miniature domain, when I’m travelling. I think, if you agree to come with me, even for a little bit, that might dissolve some of the Lonely’s more adverse effects. Make it easier to think, to, to be yourself without its influence. If that is what happens, and you want to return… I’ll bring you back. But please, just… Try? For me?”

Martin sighed, hands dropping from his face. “...Fine.”

“You- Really?”

“Yes. I… Look, J-” Martin bit back another coughing fit. “Look. I am… There is a lot of me right now that wants to leave. The fog is… It’s in my head, figuratively, probably even literally, but… I remember something Basira said. When she got back, from, from The Unknowing . Melanie wanted to know how she got out, when the other three… When you, and Daisy, and Tim, didn’t. She said she reasoned her way out. So I’m going to listen to reason for a minute, as much as it’s paining me.”

Despite those final words, Jon felt his face crack into a smile. “That’s… Yes, you’re right. Well that’s… That’s a very reasonable connection to make.”

And for the first time in a long time, Martin smiled.

“Uhm, so how does this work then?” He eventually said, hand coming up again to scratch the back of his neck in an old nervous habit Jon could not be more happy to see.

“Well”, Jon said, taking a moment to brush sodden grass from his trousers as he got to his feet, “I would say, based on the dream logic that everything here seems to run on here, it should be rather simple.” He held out a hand to tug Martin up after him.

Martin took it.

It was almost cliché, how the Lonely fell away from him. It only took a few seconds, all in all, for the bruising to fade, receding their colourful splotches until his skin lay clear again. His frostbitten fingers healing themselves, sewing broken skin back together and returning to a healthy colour. His face, too, was returning to its original pallor, the change creeping up his neck and across his cheeks and leaving rich brown in its wake. Dark eyes stared down at Jon from behind long lashes, blinking away the last of the fog. He was beautiful.

“Hi,” Jon managed to choke out.

“Hi,” Martin said, and pulled him into his arms.

Jon just let himself be held in the pressure of the embrace for a moment, before bringing a hand up to card his fingers through Martin’s hair. While it had solidified into soft curls, the colour had stayed the same, bleaching it white under his fingertips. He wasn’t sure if Martin had noticed or not, but that was a conversation for another time. They were both a little preoccupied for the moment.

“How do you feel?” Jon eventually said, words pressed into the side of Martin’s neck.

“Uhm. Strange?” Martin eventually settled on. “It’s… I can remember what my thought process was, what the Lonely was pushing me to believe, but it’s like… It’s like the camera panned out, and now I can see it all clearly, and it looks… It looks stupid. Thank you, Jon. For coming to get me.”

“Of course,” Jon whispered, “Of course.”

Another moment passed before Martin spoke up again. “...Did you mean what you said, though? Or was that… Was that just to try and get me to leave? I- I won’t be angry, if it was, that- that’s very clever, I just want to know.”

Jon furrowed his brow. “Which part do you mean?”

Martin let out an agitated sigh. “You- You know which one I mean, Jon. The- The part where that you said that you…”

“That I love you?” Jon said, picking up where Martin trailed off.

Martin’s face flushed, and just the sight of colour spreading across it made Jon’s heart soar, let alone the implications of why . “Of course I did. I- I’m sorry that you would think I would lie about that, even for something like this. No, Martin, I love you. So very much. And I know you might not feel that way anymore, in which case I am very much embarrassing myself here, but I know that you did at one stage so I hope it won’t make things too awkward between us.” “I do, Jon.”

“What?”

“I do. Still feel that way. I love you too, of course I do. My hero.”

It was Jon’s turn to feel his face flush, pleasant warmth bubbling to the surface. “Oh,” was all he managed to stutter out.

“Can I- Jon do you mind if I…” Martin trailed off again, and Jon began to think this might be a recurring theme between them. He’d make it work. He was pretty good at reading Martin, and the eyeline pointed directly at his lips made intentions quite clear.

“Is- Would just the cheek be okay?” He replied. It didn’t really feel like the time for a full run down on where boundaries lay, but he figured it was a start.

“More than,” Martin said, leaning down to press his lips softly against Jon’s cheek. He lingered for a few seconds, skin largely healed but still chapped from the cold, and it was one of the most beautiful things Jon had ever felt. He slipped one hand into Martin’s, and he felt their fingers twine together.

Martin leaned back, clearly trying to calm his grin into something more close-lipped and calm. “Where to now then?”

“Uhm. Forward, really, is just how I’ve been going. There isn’t any real sense of geography to it, we’ll just…. Get there when we get there.”

“Right. Because nothing can be simple these days.”

Jon missed this. He missed him. But he didn’t have to miss him anymore, did he? He was right there.

He squeezed his hand once, and started leading the way.

#My Post #Jonmartin #The Magnus Archives #I'm maybe pushing this one a little hard but I just. crave validation okay #And I want to see what the difference is between how a fic does as a tumblr post vs ao3 #lets call it science #My Writing #Martin Blackwood #Jonathan Sims

70 notes · View notes

mxvladdy · 3 years

Text

Forgotten Affections: Mammon

Here is Part Two of @marymaryroo 's request!

This one used more of my True forms ideas so if you want some more contexts here is Mammon's Link

Hope you like!

Magic is a beautiful and powerful thing. It permeates the Devildom like an eternal fog. For the residents, it is as common as breathing. From the strongest of their kind down to the lowest inhabitants, it is integral to their culture and daily life. Mistakes and accidents happen daily with young and old alike learning or experimenting. Magical rebounds and mishaps mean very little to them, especially the brothers. From the Celestial Realms down, they have seen it all.

Sometimes they forget that to you, magic can be a volatile and dangerous.

Part Two of Three: Mammon

TW: Gore and slight body horror

His plans are not stupid. No matter what his brothers thought or said. He was always calculating, always thinking and scheming. Sometimes his plans were fast and spontaneous, some do get the better of him. But risks were always a part of the games he plays. The hazards are just as an addictive high as the rewards he strove for. Mammon knew his plans could go sideways, but he never cared. When he failed he just would try again. Variables changed on a dime and he knew how to handle that. Life moves fast but he always moves faster. Until he couldn’t.

The plan this time was foolproof. Everything had been in place, or so he thought. He ran a tight ship with his informants and an even tighter ship with his court. He anticipated everything. He just can never predict you.

You weren’t supposed to be here. Why were you here! You should have been at school!

Of course, the witches saw you as a threat. They thought he was trying to underhand them once again. They weren’t wrong obviously. But he would never put you in harm's way to get what he wanted. Seeing you here startles him, startles all of them. While the shock of your face showing up where it didn’t belong slows his reaction time, it increases the witches. Their spells move with blinding speed, out-pacing him by mere seconds as he tries to get to you. The spells hit you with a wet crunch, flinging you across the room. He watches in horror as your body flops like a marionette cut from it’s strings. He catches you scooping you up to his chest before hitting the concert hard. He skids along the cold warehouse floor hiss when his heat cracks hard on the metal of a stack of crates.

It hurt, but he couldn’t give less of a damn. He didn’t give a shit about the black blood trickling from his brow or the crack in his beloved glasses. He had one thing on his mind, you. You were still and loose in his arms. He saw no blood, but something wasn’t right. His pact is alight with pain, flaring and itching as he panics something wasn’t right with his master and his pact couldn’t locate it.

The next few moments in time freeze around him as he moves faster than he ever has in his life. The city and realm are brief flashes in his mind's eyes as he blinks, he just had to keep you safe. He takes you to the only place he knows you will be safe. It was the safest place in the kingdom for him, and it would be for you too.

The cave is cold. An eternal shadow coats every part of the large cavern, it had been a while since he had visited his hoard. His greatest treasure now sleeps in his bedroom and shines more brightly than even his most precious stones. Yet, now you were as cold as the jewels he once coveted. He doesn’t remember shedding his human skin but he doesn’t care using his many mismatched and uneven wigs to move you to his nest.

He tucks you into the silks and wool sheets lining his bed. Bending closer he nuzzles your arm. His many broken and scarred beaks picked up on the fetid odor of tainted magic seeping from your pores. He can’t place all the damage done to you but it is more than he knew what to do with. He was no practiced healer like Asmodeus or learned in medicine like Satan. No, he didn’t have that, but he was yours, and you were his to protect. So he does what he can through his pact, leeching some of the poison from your body into his. Getting comfortable beside you he shuffles you closer into the remaining soft down feathers on his belly. This close he can feel your frail heartbeat.

The hours move on and you still do not stir. He hates himself for this. How could he be so useless? You trust him, he was your first man he was supposed to be better than this. In this moment Mammon regrets every class he ever ditched and the class he slept through in the Celestial realms. He was never good with magic but perhaps if he had just paid attention he might have been able to help you better right now. Whatever toxins the combination of spells had embedded you rolled in his stomachs mixing with his guilt. He takes it all powering through so you could rest.

You stir sometime in the wee hours of the morning, of what day he doesn’t know and he doesn’t care. His many eyes never leave you as you wake. “Mammon?” You slur, mind still groggy with sleep and the residual effects of whatever it was that hit you. He clicks his many beaks asynchronously in delight, the chatter of bone on bone is raucous.

Beside himself, he turns back to his human form in a dizzying blur of feathers and gold light. “Babe!” He snatches you up kissing every bit of your skin he can find. “I am so sorry. I fucked up-you weren’t supposed to be there. How in the hells did you find me?” He pulls back to make eye contact with you. Your eyes are wide with shock. “What’s the matter? Why are ya lookin’ at me like that?”

You looked confused, eyes darting around you as you clutch the furs and blankets closer to your bare chest. “Mammon. What...what’s going on? Where am I?” You glance down at yourself seeing how battered and bruised you were. You look at him, the confusion now replaced with unadulterated terror. “Mammon...what did you do?”

“Ti?” He shakes his head momentarily, losing his grip on your shared tongue. “Babe-I don’t understand.” He tries to touch you. You push away, scrambling back and tumbling from his nest. Mammon hears your heart rate pick up, hammering like a helpless beast when it knows it's cornered. But where was the threat? You were safe here, tucked away with him. He feels numb, disbelief locking his jaw and tightening his shoulders.

You couldn’t think he was the threat...right?

“C-come on,” He blinks back tears. “This ain’t funny. Don’t you remember me?” He reaches out for you beckoning for you to come back to his nest. There is an odd and sharp twinge in his pact and he hisses. You mark weights him down, locking him in place from coming any closer to your trembling form. You were stopping him from comforting you. You were scared of him.

“Mammon.” You shudder holding the blankets close and back away till your back hit the rough stone wall. “You’re scaring me.”

“An’ your scaring me! You promised not to play cruel jokes on me.” His head bobbles inhumanely, sapphire and gold eyes glowing in the low moon light.

He smells the sour tang of sweat blooming on your skin, his sense locking on the bob of your throat. He mimics the dry clicking of it as you try to swallow enough spit to speak. “When did I do that?” You croak. He rears his head back. The words strike him hard. You curl away from his screeching arms raised for a blow that he would never do.

“Date? You, us!” He barks, voice coming sharper and shriller in desperation. “Our late night drives? Us...movie nights alone at the theater. Just last night?” He implores searching your gaze for something. Anything!

You shake your head clutching your brow. “I’m sorry, I don’t...” His caw of rage rattles his chest. His many heads emerge again to echo his cries. He shakes them in disbelief. “Mammon! Listen to me, please! Just-just take us home-”

“No!” You flinch back, spit coating your upraised arms. “You are my human!” Mammon’s eyes flash in warning. If you didn’t remember him then the others could try to take you away from him. He would never let you go. Your scream of terror is swept up in a flurry of wings and plumage as he disappears back into the night.

He doesn’t return home to the House. He takes flight and heads east, the winds and forest coming alive with the sounds of his legion taking to the sky with him. Search. Find. He orders images of the coven and what they did to you flashes in his mind to his murder. Those mages did this, and they would fix this. He travels on the wind ignoring the searing pain of your mark. You are calling him to return, ordering him to. The pain only fuels his desire to hunt.

He will have to be fast, for your sake. While his cave had plenty of fresh water and food for you he knew you. You were that spark in the night, that shock to the system that kept him going. You help him keep his head up high. You would try to get down from his nest, or try the other brothers before long.

His council found the witches one by one, picking off the weaker members while leaving the elder witches to him. He barrels through the punishment of breaking a pacts to extract whatever he could from them before his talons find their throats. The kills got more and more savage as each hunt turns up nothing.

On the fifth day of his hunting, Lucifer finds him. His world turns into a blur of black mist and boney fingers as his brother throws him violently from the gurgling body of his last victim. Empty eye sockets bore into Mammon's dazed faces. “Where…” Lucifer opens his broken maw, jaw creaking as his voice gurgles out. Mammon ignores him screeching and clawing at the hand pinning him to the floor. The fingers begin to close slowly, choking off his air until he is forced to revert to his other form, dark chest gasping for air. “Wheerrree…” Black smoke fills his lungs, the cold radiating off of Lucifer’s exposed bone burns his skin.

Mammon hisses back, throwing caution to the wind and landing a quick kick to his brother’s deteriorating nasal bone. “Mine!” He groans, head filling with static. “They are mine...even if they don’t remember me.” The fingers around his throat loosen before pulling back. Mammon coughs holding his throat as he struggles to his knees. “You can’t have them.” He wipes his face, cleaning off blood and tears. Devil’s when did he start crying?

“Mammon.” Lucifer tries again, flowing closer. “No one wants to take them away. I want to make sure they are safe.” Safe? Of course they were safe! The Great Mammon was watching over them, there was nowhere safer. Right? But there was safety in numbers too, what was a murder of crows or a flock of night creatures if they did not stick together. Mammon pushes his palms hard into his eyes till light spots of color irrupted behind his eyelids.

Clarity and exhaustion caught up to him all at once. “I messed up. I messed up so bad, μέντορας.” He looks at the corpse of the last witch. They were the final witness to what had happened the night he got you hurt. His last chance to help you is gone, splattered across the pavement. “Λυπάμαι. Λυπάμαι, αδελφός.” The dam breaks, all the suffering, and confusion of the past week overwhelms him in that moment, robbing him of coherent thought.

Warm human hands grip his shoulders squeezing him tight to center him. “Calm yourself. Remember how I taught you?” he nods, grimy head bobbing through a hiccup. “Good-good. In through your nose and out your mouth. Yes, just like that. Again.” Once punishing hands now wrap around him surrounding him in a sea of black silk and soft hair. It is of little comfort to him now, but Mammon feels the invisible hands clutching his hearts loosen. Lucifer does too and brings his brother out of the crook of his neck to look him over. “I want to help both of you. But, I need to know what is going on.”

To say Lucifer was displeased was an understatement. He couldn’t fault Mammon for his outburst, while he could not say he would do the same he understood what fragile hearts his sibling has. Mammon would never intentionally harm you, but as he pleads his case Lucifer began to worry more and more for your well-being. Mammon wasn’t going back to check on you, that was very clear by the pattern of violence he had marked around the eastern prefecture. Mammon’s recklessness had the potential to get you hurt, and he could not have that.

“Take me to them.” Lucifer raises, helping Mammon up from his knees.

“Can’t.”

“Mammon.” His patience grows thin.

“I can’t,” Mammon repeats himself, firmer this time. The magic he placed on his nest was the last that he had. Having a demon as strong as his brother coming in would break the barrier beyond his repair. “I swear to you I will bring them back, now, back to the house. Just please...I can’t take you.”

Lucifer sighs but relents. Mammon doesn’t swear often if not at all. With care Lucifer takes the back of Mammon’s head and brings his forehead to touch his. “Promise?” Mammon coos softly showing his neck in submission. “Thank you, now go retrieve them. I will clean up this mess.”

Mammon returns to his nest to find you sleeping again. You were clothed and freshly bathed, bits of food nearby and used cutlery at your side. He doesn’t approach fearful of how you would react after last time. He kicks a pile of gold by the side of you instead. You react immediately, lurching up in bed. Something shiny glints in your hand and he laughs. The silver dagger gleams in his direction. “Mammon?” You blink in the low light squinting hard to make out his form. “Is that you?”

“Of course,” He steps closer, arms relaxed at his side. “No one else can come up here, you know. Or, I guess you did at one point.” You lower the knife but keep your eyes trained on him still hesitant.

“Are you ok?” Getting a better look at him you frown. He was a mess, disheveled and grungy. Dark viscous matter cling to his once vibrant white hair clumping it and sticking to the hard edges of his face. You didn’t want to know what it was, but you had your suspicions.

“Yes.” He said, tone clipped and stressed. “Come on, let’s get you back.” He holds out a grimy hand to you.

You look at it. “Are we really?” With how he left you you weren’t sure if this was a trap or not. For all his boisterous claims and vibrato you never thought he would actually go through with anything. Now you weren’t sure.

Mammon nods, waiting for you to make up your mind. You take his hand after a few minutes of contemplation. Your touch was so familiar yet foreign all at once. It was as warm and soft as he remembered it to be, but that was it. You were hesitant with your touch, fingers barely resting in his scabbed and scarred over palm. “What happened?” You turn his hand over seeing how the cuts and bruises continued.

“Nothing.” Nothing of worth any way. “Come, Lucifer is waiting for us.” That makes you pick up your pace and it chafes him.

When you both land in the outside garden of the house Mammon let’s you go. Rushing over to Lucifer’s side, you almost use him as a shield between the two of you. You grab at his brother’s pressed suit jacket asking a rapid fire slew of questions. Mammon relaxes only a fraction noting how Lucifer has yet to touch you out of respect for him.

Lucifer let’s you run out of steam before speaking. “I believe I know what has happened but let’s get you checked out first, and Mammon.” He looks over to his hunched brother. “Go wash up. I’ll be with you as soon as I can.” Dismissed, Mammon slinks off to his room without a fight and empty handed.

With a clean bill of health, minus the apparent memory loss you sit in Diavolo’s office nursing a cup of tea. You look at your companions on either side of you. You, Solomon, and Lucifer sit on Dia’s large couch while the prince paces in front of you. The latter shaking with rage.

“I’m not mad.” You say again looking at the men around you. Mad wasn’t the right word for the feelings you have right now. You were angry at the situation and how Mammon handled it, yeah. But now you were more confused and fearful for his sake. Even if you didn’t recall the particulars of your relationship, what you did remember was a warm and friendly mix of emotions and companionship. He had always been a good friend and steadfast ally after the initial rocky start. Could you have been more? Something blooms in your chest.

“Irregardless,” Dia turns to you, face grim. “He put you in immediate danger and then abducted you. If Lucifer hadn’t tracked him down you still would be missing.” You nod your mouth closing on a rebuttal. He wasn’t wrong. “And,” He continues. “This matter now has more repercussions then just you and your lost memories I’m afraid.”

“That’s right.” Solomon butts in. “The covens are in an uproar. Seats have been usurped and the power imbalance now is reaching dangerous degrees. They want blood.”

Diavolo scoffs, cursing low in infernal. “Mammon needs to be reprimanded, Lucifer.”

Lucifer stiffens next to you. You hear the soft creaking of his leather gloves as he clenches his fists tight. “Is this not enough?” He leans forward imploringly. “Let me handle his punishment. You know I am fair with it.”

“He wiped out the entire East coven. This will take years for me to handle diplomatically. The council of Magi wants justice, and I cannot blame them. Mammon broke contracts and peace agreements.”

His words go over your head but the implications were very clear. “I’m so sorry.” You bow low in your seat. This was your fault. You should have taken a brother with you to retrieve Mammon that night. While trapped in Mammon’s treasure trove you had plenty of time to go over that night’s events and try to figure out why Mammon had said those things to you.

You remember that day clearly. Going to classes, turning in homework and rounding up the brother’s before they got into mischief. You run down that night the best you can too. You remember texting the group that you would bring Mammon home in time for the last meeting of the day, then the burning sensation of spells hitting you and bright flashes of light before waking up next to him in his nest. You remember him, but those nights he told you about and his feelings he shared with you were gone. Nothing there but black space.

Solomon’s hand on your shoulder breaks your musing. “This isn’t your fault. I’m sure we can settle this out over time.” The two demons in the room nod, faces unreadable. With that Solomon nods, getting to his feet. “I believe the time for humans in the room is over, shall I escort you home, or would you like to stay at Purgatory?”

“Home please.” The week's events land heavy on your shoulders. You wanted to sleep in your bed surrounded by familiar comforts. “I’m over this demon shit.” Solomon doesn’t even try to hide his snort.

“There is never a dull moment with you around, huh?” He chuckles, combing a hand through his hair once he gets to the front door. You shoot him an exasperated look. “Relax. I promise we will get this all set to rights...if that is what you wish.”

“I have a choice?”

Solomon raises a pale brow. “Yes. I do believe I can fix this with enough time and preparation. While Mammon had the right idea going to find the root of the problem and there for the spell, he did it all ass backwards. Once I get in contact with the spirits of those he murdered I believe I can get you back together again. You do want that don’t you?”

Did you?

The question perplexes you while you crawl into bed. Did you want something that you didn’t even know you had? The Mammon that had greeted you when you woke up was like nothing you could remember and had planted a seed of doubt within you. What about him had you fall for him in the first place? Would you remember all of this if Solomon was able to fix it? Could this break in your memory change how you felt for him? Ugh-why was magic always so difficult…

You are left to your own devices for a while allowed to stay in from work and school while you recover. The brothers dote over you in their own ways, all expertly navigating around any question you had about Mammon’s whereabouts. Only Beel gave you any useful information.

“He’s...working off his debt.” Cryptic, but at least you knew he was alive. With the brother’s all being tight lipped you took matters into your own hands. Your phone was gone, no doubt shattered on the floor of the warehouse when you fell. You should have had a new one by now, but Lucifer seemed to be hiding it from you like Mammon.

The door to Mammon’s room is sealed tight, no handle or seam to be found. The loud hum of magic radiates from the door making it impossible for you to open. Even his seat at the council was empty. So much secrecy, you were beginning to believe you were being punished as well.

Good thing you were too pig headed to care.

Cornering Lucifer wasn’t as hard as you expected it to be. He very well could have been waiting for you to jump him by this point. He looked tired and drained, his mark, like Mammon’s, was dark and silent on your skin. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Yes. Though, as you can see, I’ve grown tired of it.” He waves at himself leaning on the wall just outside of the kitchens. “What do you want?”

“Why can’t I find anything?”

“Any what?”

“If I was dating Mammon wouldn’t there be, I don’t know evidence of it?” There was nothing in your room, and you couldn’t get into Mammon’s. The other’s had been of no help. It was gone, as if by magic. “Is this your doing?”

Lucifer pinches his brow with a grimace. “Yes, and no. Mammon asked me to.”

“What! Why?”

“He heard what Solomon said to you. That you are unsure if you want those memories back. This is your out.” A gift as Mammon likes to think of it, the last one Mammon can give you. Even if it kills him, his brother still thinks of your comforts.

“Don’t I get a choice?” Lucifer snorts eyeing you.

“It is one of the very few strategic advantages of being human. Have you made one?”

Yes? No? “Well, I would like to make an educated one! I can’t do that if I can’t even see Mammon now can I? I’m clear headed now.”

Lucifer chortles rummaging in his pocket. “Please, the fact that you picked Mammon as the object of your affection clearly shows me you have never thought clearly a day in your life.” He drops something in your hand before turning. “The magic of the door is gone. Just-please be gentle with him. The council has not been kind.” He gives you a final small smile. “You two were happy together, you know.” He leaves you with your new phone in an empty hallway.

You clutch the small device close to your chest, eyes riveted to the screen. Lucifer had backed everything up. Your contacts, calendar dates, assignments, and pictures. You click on your photo gallery. Oh, there were so many pictures of the two of you together. For a moment you hate the you grinning up through the screen. Mammon’s arms wrap around you, his face nestle in your hair as you glow under his attention. He looked serene, eyes closed with a blissful smile peeking out through your locks. The next few photos were very much the same, little dates and windows into a life you wanted to remember. The next few you took were candid photos. Him asleep on his couch stretched out and snoring or in the kitchen trying to do something, and failing.

It was so different from the Mammon you remember and the one you saw so briefly in the cave. Deep down your heart hurts for him, out of sympathy or the echoes of your lost love you weren’t sure, but you wanted that life from the pictures again. You reach his door with a new reinvigorated fire in your belly. You could do this. Mammon would never fall for someone indecisive.

The door opens as quiet as a whisper into a dark room. Stepping in you hold your breath, ears hyper aware of just how dark this place was. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this place without lights on. Mammon didn’t like the dark all that much. The room was quiet too, except for an eerie wet gurgle. “Mammon?”

“Leave.” Deeper into the room a massive black shape moves. “Shouldn’t be here.” You turn to the shape, arms outstretched to guide you through the pitch. “Don’t-” Several large luminous gold eyes lock with you. They are weary and apprehensive. You push forward till your hands touch some feathers and…

“You’re bleeding.”

“It’s fine.” Like hell it was. Ignoring his protest and the slick feel of his blood on your hands you grab for your phone.

“Oh Mammon.” Your stomach twists. In the bright little of your little flashlight you can see only a small bit of his side, but it was shiny with fresh blood, feathers broken and limp from where hands had yanked at them. “Who?”

“The Rite of Equivalency.” A head turns to follow your fingers. He hisses, the feel of your fingers stroking along a raw gash under his upper set of wings burns. “Pound for pound of flesh for that which I took.” His beaks click, sore and irritated, they had not been gentle with their gathering today. His body was worth a lot to witches. His feathers and beak shavings were valuable in potions and on the market. It was the most lenient punishment Lucifer could broker, even if it did literally cost him a limb or two. Your hand goes still on his side, he can feel your small fingers trembling on his hind leg.

“Mammon-this is monstrous.”

The crow chortles swiveling his heads to look at you. “Are we not monsters?” He tries to joke, uncomfortable with your gentle touch now. “Hey- no...please don’t cry.” He sees tears clinging to your eyelashes, your lower lip quivering. He opens a wing to try to wrap it around you but stops gasping in pain. His side was like a live wire, healing bones burning under his thin skin while they mended. He is so tired.

You pick up on his discomfort and move away wiping at your tears. This wasn’t about you right now. “I came to talk about...us and what you overheard between Solomon and I,” His heart rate picks up.

“Lucifer put you up to this.” It wasn’t a question but a simple statement of fact. He had hoped-

You shook your head, brushing his side. “He gave me the option by opening the door, but I wanted to do this. To see you again and talk.” Talk, and get his side of the story, to fill in the pieces of the puzzle until you could get them back yourself. You pull up a few pictures and turn the screen to him. “I want to go back to this. I think I liked being yours.”

#obey me #obey me mammon #tw: body horror #tw: gore #fun request!

55 notes · View notes

egotheplanet · 3 years

Text

Betrothed (Gladiator!Eren Jaeger x Princess!Reader)

{Part 1 of my Mystical Realm AU Masterlist}

Summary: Eren Jaeger is a gladiator with the stage name ‘Titan’ who wins your hand and defends your honor in a match against the rival kingdom of your land.

Word Count: 3k

TW: Blood, Violence, Arranged Marriage, Fainting, Creepy Step-Father, Lots of Commas

The screams of the crowd are deafening as you approach the Royal-Access-Only entrance of the arena. Your step-father, ruler of the Kingdom of Chandovich, sent a request through his most trusted advisor. All he explained to Sir Rivaille, was to escort you to the match. No amount of questions you proposed to the knight would reveal any new information, since he only knew as much as you did.

He’s never once done this before. The king and queen are both well aware how much you hate the brutality of it all. You squint at the bright light of the end of the hallway and you ponder why he wants you there now. The only thing you know for certain is that his favorite gladiator is fighting on the kingdoms behalf today.

Eren Jaeger.

An undefeated beast of a man going for his 60th consecutive win. The match today is against the rivaling kingdoms champion, the Beast as he is aptly called. Your father always places a delicious incentive for the winner and is known for keeping his word.

Your mind swirls with wonder and your stomach sinks with anxiety while you think about what he promised today and what it has to do with you being there. As you enter the royal box seat, the view of adoring fans and your fathers back enters your view. The clanging of metal swords against shields assaults your ear drums. The seats are on the floor level and this close to the stage, you can see the sweat rolling off the fighters’ bodies.

The Titan, Erens well earned stage name, beats his iron against the mans shield repeatedly without wavering. His opponent, who is many times his size, is kneeling and clearly struggling albeit refusing to give up. Your kings of opposing lands stand at the same time since the match is about to end. The already roaring crowd is lively, people in the stands holding signs and throwing food and flowers into the ring in support of their respective fighter. Children can be seen on their parents shoulders in efforts for better views.

You finally walk to his side and the crowd goes wild at the sight of you. Your crown digs into your finely plaited hair, adding to your growing headache which spawned from the loud atmosphere, as you bow ever so slightly to show respect for the king. The Titan throws one final blow, slicing the challenger from his neck to his rib cage. Effectively chopping off his arm. The man falls to his knees before the rest of his body hits the ground; bleeding out though you refuse to look and see. The crowd goes berserk and Eren drops his blood soaked sword to the ground with a clatter. His chest heaves as he attempts to catch his breath. Sweat drips from his forehead down his neck and finally onto his chest. His hair, wildly unkempt and freely falling, sticks to his face. Blood covers most parts of his body.

He takes no time reveling his victory before he kneels on one knee. His forearm rests atop of it, his long brown hair covering his face as he bows his head to your father as a sign of acknowledgment.

Your father looks down at you proudly with an almost undetectable hint of an apologetic gaze. Your brow quirks in question and you part your lips to inquire as to why he looked this way, but his voice booms over the theater to make an announcement— cutting you off before you began.

“Never in my years as King of Chandovich have I seen a greater gladiator in this theater. And never once have I seen such an important match end so quickly.” The crowd is dim to hear the speech and you can hear your heart hammer against your rib cage. “Our appropriately named Titan fought well against his opponent from Vestotua. Perhaps the promise of such a grand prize gave him more of a reason to win, hm?” The crowd cheers and you frown, perplexed as to why your father brought you out here to see the end of a match.

And the allusion of your presence being such a prize.

“Well I’m proud our homeland remains victorious in this prestigious arena. And beyond pleased to announce that Mr. Jaeger has not only won his freedom.. But a title! Congratulations, Titan, your fighting years are over and your years being a member of the royal court begin today!” He claps and nods down at the man.

The onlookers cheer for the story of a commoner becoming something better. Stories of this caliber always benefit commoner-castle relations for years.

Jaegers jaw visibly clenches in disdain and he stands, the crowd audibly hushes as he grabs his sword, pointing it toward the king. They erupt in gasps and some throw a few boo’s.

Knights Rivaille and Kirschtein grip the hilts of their swords in preparation to defend the crown.

“That’s not all I was promised. Make good on your word, King.” The Titans voice is venomous and your father smirks slightly at the audacity.

“Dear boy, where do you think the title comes from? How low of me do you think that I would not keep my solemn word? The princess is all yours! Do forgive the lack of a bow atop your gift.” The crowd laughs loudly and the knights beside you tense with unease.

Your jaw slacks and your chest heaves as you look at your father in shock. The jewels and fine fabrics covering you feel heavier than cement blocks.

“What? I—“ Your voice is panicked and soft as disbelief coats your throat.

He pats you on the back, pushing you forward to the edge of the viewing box. The fighter steps ahead and bends ever so slightly so he’s eye to eye with you.

His chest continues to heave and his nostrils flare, sending hot air onto your face. He smells of blood, booze, sweat and of the barn animals he sleeps beside at night. Teal irises glare deeply into your e/c ones until you look away, too frightened to speak or move. His rough, blood covered hands reach over the edge to grasp yours.. tenderly? Hard calluses gently bore into the soft flesh of your freshly manicured hands. You wouldn’t expect such a light touch from such a brutish man with a reputation as his.

“...Good. I’ll collect my things and be back for her later.” He breathes out, the hot air again hitting your cheek from the proximity. He turns and strides away, warm hands finally leaving yours. You find yourself growing instantly cold without him before you. You clasp your hands together in front of you to savor the warmth.

The king chuckles deeply and slaps your backside hard causing you to flinch and whimper slightly. Just a small portion of the ‘affection’ your step-father gives you.

“Your things? Not to worry, boy! We have plenty of hay and pigs at the castle.” At the word ‘pigs’, he snatches your arm and flails it in the air.

The crowd roars in laughter and the gladiator halts his steps, visibly trembling in anger before continuing to walk to the fighters exit. He doesn’t look back or respond to the taunt.

You frown deeply and tears burn the bottom of your eye-line. Your heart and stomach ache because you’re being given away to a monster. Because your father views you as nothing more than a cheap gift for heathens. Because the man you’re going to marry is a murderer.

Because... he’s being as poorly treated by your king as you are. That thought sneaks it’s way in and you shake it away with a tremble.

Because he is probably going to treat you worse than you could ever imagine.

The scent of blood evaporating in the midday sun hits your nose harshly. Your head swirls and the sunlight dims impossibly dark. An unexpected eclipse? No..

Your hands and feet grow freezing cold and the breath expels quickly from your chest in one large wheeze. In all but an instant, you feel yourself falling backwards uncontrollably. But that’s all you feel before you completely lose consciousness.

The crowd gasps and the knight protecting your father leaps forward, catching you in his arms. Your only friend in the castle, Sir Kirschtein, furrows his brow in worry as he lifts you up bridal style. Preventing any serious injury to your body, he hugs you close to his armored chest.

The king rolls his eyes and sighs, hands in the air while he shrugs before slapping them down at his sides.

“Women are such frail creatures, aren’t they?” The crowd murmurs worriedly about their beloved princess. The kings eyes narrow as he yells; “I said, women are such frail creatures, aren’t they!!” the crowd pauses for a beat before erupting into forced laughter.

Jean clenches his teeth and begins walking out, his grip on you tight and protective.

The king taps his shoulder and he turns ever so slightly.

“Majesty?” Jean looks down into his eyes, almost begging him to try something. The knight stands a good few inches taller than the monarch.

“Ahem.. Yes, well. Take her to bed and ensure the handmaidens have gathered all her necessary things for her new home in the countryside. Ensure her meeting with the beast goes well or I’m sure I will get an earful from the lady Queen.” He rubs his temples in annoyance at the thought.

The knight nods instead of speaking, worried his tongue will be shaper than he intends. As much as he wants to defend your sacred honor, his head is on the line and he cannot protect you from beyond the grave.

When you awaken, you’re in your room. The sheer canopy of your bed filters the light from the windows smoothly. Your head rushes with blood and your eyes feel as if they could roll out of your skull. Jean is sitting in an elegant chair to your left, holding your hand very gently.

“How are you feeling, highness?” His voice is very soft so as not to hurt your head further but the worry trickles through his words feverishly.

Your face flushes in embarrassment as you attempt to sit up. You make it without too many problems, sitting back against the headboard and goose down pillows. Your hand rubs the back of your head where the source of the throbbing is coming from.

“Out of it.. Please tell me I dreamt all of that or I may begin to weep.” Your voice softly trembles as you recall the earlier events.

Jean looks sorrowful as he lowers his gaze.

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N. There was nothing I could do.”

You bite your lip, closing your eyes in defeat and nod once.

You’ve been trained your entire life to become a good and fair maiden. Good enough to be handed off in some sort of deal later on in life as a shining and glorious gift. You’ve grown up knowing you’d become a political tool sooner or later.

You’d just hoped it would’ve been later. Much, much later. To a prince or someone stately at least!

“I never thought I’d be handed off to some.. some monster. I thought the least the king could offer me after a life of subjection was a choice in when I get offered up. But now I’m being forced into the life of a common street dog.” You put your face in your hands as the tears finally spill over.

A deep voice calls to you from the shadowy end of your room.

“So which is it, princess? Am I a monster or a street dog?” Eren leans against your dresser; his arms crossed against his chest, eyes glaring into your silhouette.

You gasp and look up, seeing the outline of him grow larger and hearing his heavy footsteps as he walks to the end of your bed.

Jean growls, clenching the hilt of the sword on his hip. “That’s close enough, Titan.”

Eren stops immediately and sighs.

“I’m sorry, princess.”

Both you and the knight look at each other before resetting your eyes to the commonly unruly man.

As the light encompasses him through your sheer curtains, you see he’s been cleaned and redressed. The deep chocolate colored hair is tied back with a small braid running into the messy bun. His shirt is a fluffy cuffed cotton with buttons trailing down the front. His pants are black, long and high waisted, accentuating his body’s firm frame. However, the teal eyes from arena remain the same.

“What was that you said?” You whisper, not trusting your ears fully.

“I’m sorry you’re being given away like this. Forced into a marriage with me, I mean. I honestly didn’t want to fight for you at all.” Jean scoffs at this.

“Bastard.” He murmurs.

“I only wanted freedom.”

Your eyes widen as you recognize the feeling.

You listen religiously as he begins to explain the predicament he was placed in.

“The king promised me before the match that if I won against our rival land, I’d be free. He never mentioned anything about winning your hand. Until..” He trails off and looks to Jean.

“Until the opposing King of Vestotua said that wasn’t a good enough prize for a fight of this magnitude...” The good knight finishes for him.

You look beside you to your most trusted ally, hand gently gripping his forearm as it rests atop your red and gold stitched duvet.

“King Gnowles said the only prize worthy enough would be your hand, princess.” He looks up apologetically. “If they won, you had to marry their fighter to prove how submissive our kingdom is when it comes to Vestotua making commands. But if we won, you belong to our gladiator to make things even.” Jean says through clenched teeth. His hand digs into your comforter in a death grip, probably envisioning the kings throat.

Eren walks around your square shaped bed to sit beside you. Your body leans toward him as the bed dips in his favor. A hand reaches out slowly to take place on your shoulder but hesitates when you flinch away. He places the warm appendage on your shoulder after giving you a moment to prepare.

“This isn’t what I wanted. I tried to opt out, please believe me. But the king said you’d automatically go to them if I forfeit. I definitely mulled over forfeiting anyway, but their challenger started..” he shakes his head and puts his lips together in disgust. “Saying things... What he would do to you once you were his. Once you ‘belonged to him’.” He quickly stands again and the contact is lost between you both.

Your heart flips.

Whether from his recount or the feeling of his hands on you, you’re unsure.

He walks to your window which overlooks the seaside and slams his palms on the windowsill.

He growls as he stares out at the free rolling waves.

“I decided then that I would fight for you. We’re all born free. From the day we are born, we are free. It doesn’t matter how strong those who deny us that freedom are. A clerk, a knight, hell, even a king. A human being cannot belong to anyone! I’m willing to protect your freedom no matter what. You think I’d let some disgusting rat own and defile you? Not on your life!” He whips around to face you at the last line, his right hand clenched into a fist to prove his virtue. His voice is raised and posture straight as he proudly exclaims what he believes in.

For some reason.. you feel... content.

He genuinely wants you to be safe. And free. That’s more than ever could’ve be said about your step father. Even your own mother agreed to this, so you’re told. The only person in the entire castle who thinks of you as an autonomous-breathing person is Sir Kirschtein.

Up until now that is.. the man you’re betrothed to is willing to offer you your independence with his life. Your heart flips again as his eyes lock with yours.

“I-I...” you stutter and stare up at him in awe.

He feels his cheeks flush when he notices the stars in your eyes. He averts his gaze, turning around in an attempt to remain valiant.

“Look.. We do have to get married and you do have to come live with me in a house provided by the kingdom. It’s on private land over the hills. B-But that’s the only thing you have no choice in! I vow to never make you do anything you don’t want to do. I’ll take care of the land and the livestock so you can have your own life. I’ll stay out of your way as much as possible. I’ll build whatever you want and obtain whatever you like. Just..” he makes a noise sounding like a hesitant scratch in the back of his esophagus. “Just promise you won’t call me a monster or a street dog again.” He looks back up at you with pain in his eyes.

You can tell from his previous speech about freedom that he’s had a rough life. After all he’s willing to do for you, after all he’s already done, the least you can do is honor this wish.

“As you desire.” You speak softly and angelically as your body tries to stand.

“H-Hey you should be resting!” Jean tries to grab you before you get up but you move too quickly.

Your feet are wobbly, sure, but you confidently walk and stand in front of your future husband. You turn him around to face you by placing your hands on his shoulders. You smile warmly up at him.

“We can make this work, Eren Jaeger. I truly believe we can.” You reach forward and grab his hands in the same gentle manner he did at the theater.

This time it’s his turn to flush all shades of pink as he looks down into your eyes. “I’m going to do my best to make you as happy as you’re making me by freeing me from this castle.” You squeeze his hands comfortingly and your eyes begin to water from joy, the smile never faltering from your cheeks.

Perhaps you’re better suited to a life on the seaside with The Titan than you are to a life as a confined princess.

With a wedding planned for the morning, the two of you cannot wait to find out.

214 notes · View notes

anactualcaseofthetruth · 3 years

Text

Friends Can Break Your Heart Too - Chapter 5 < ao3 link

Or catch up! >>>

Chapter 1 / ao3

Chapter 2 / ao3

Chapter 3 / ao3

Chapter 4 / ao3

Story summary: Mia Flores flees to Santo Padre for one reason and one reason only: her godfather and the man who raised her, Bishop Losa. The last thing she expects is for Angel Reyes to come into her chaotic life and just maybe be the one thing that starts to make sense.

Chapter summary: Bishop gives Mia a talk then Mia and Angel have some fun.

Rated: SMUT. Sex, oral, cream pie, all that good stuff.

A/N: Esai Alvarez in this story is played by Manny Montana with Rio from Good Girls tats! Just a reminder!

Chapter 5:

“Mija?” Mia hears Bishop’s voice travel up the stairs to the bathroom where she’s finishing getting ready for a party at the clubhouse. The boys just got a big payday and that usually means a fun night.

“Bathroom!” she calls back while touching up her mascara, not at all surprised Bishop is the one to pick her up today. Angel was very clear in his text this morning the reason he wasn’t climbing into bed with her was because her godfather mentioned he planned on stopping by. Angel also mentioned that he was tired as fuck and couldn’t wait to see her later.

It doesn’t surprise her that Bishop wants to see her, he always wants to touch base after being gone on a run, and him and the boys did two back-to-back over the last week and a half, with only being home one day in between.

What does surprise her was that Angel texts her when they are on runs. It isn’t frequent, of course, but it is at least once a day, sometimes more if possible. He doesn’t say much, just that everything is going good and everyone is whole, but just the fact that he even tries means the world to her.

Most the time with Esai, Mia didn’t know he was home until she woke up and found him in bed with her, or passed out on the couch, or heard from Bishop that they were home and wanted to get lunch or dinner or something. It was rare for Esai to text her daily on runs—maybe when they first got together or if something particularly shitty was going on with her mom. She got maybe one or two texts over a five-day period, if that.

She hears Bishop making his way through the shopping bags that litter her bedroom floor. “Nice to see you’re spending your money wisely,” he comments.

“You’re the one who said you wouldn’t take anything from me for the first three months,” Mia counters while twisting the mascara closed and giving her face a last once over. “I tried to give you more than half my paycheck because I know I owe you, but you—”

“I know, I know, I’m just fucking with you,” Bishop stops her with a chuckle as he leans on the doorjamb leading to the bathroom. “You’re only doing what I want you to do—rebuild your life. I’m glad you’re making yourself at home, or at least,” his eyes flick back to the mess on her floor, “making a few businesses happy. Took a trip to El Centro?”

“That’s where Letty said the good mall is, and some pretty awesome boutiques. She wasn’t wrong,” Mia answers with a shrug. “I got her a few things too, and I’m not letting Coco pay me back, just letting you know.”

“That’s his fight, not mine,” he responds with hands up in surrender and they both smile at one another. “You look… good,” he settles on after looking her up and down a moment later.

She’s wearing a new pair of Army green cargo pants that hug her ass and thighs but are baggy at her feet. It’s matched with a dusty rose top laced up through her breasts, showing skin the whole way, but has long flowy sleeves. She isn’t wearing a bra, of course, that would throw off the whole look, but is covered up enough that Bishop won’t say anything, even if his eyes do. It should elicit a different reaction out of Angel though.

“I know,” she replies, and he chuckles again, having learned long ago that fighting about her clothes was a losing battle. “Everything went good this week? No problems?” she asks while passing him on her way out of the bathroom and starts digging through the bags for her brand new white Nikes.

Of course, she knows all went well—Angel had told her so, but Bishop doesn’t know that.

“All the drops went good, prisons up the coast and in AZ are flush with enough H to keep our brothers inside on top, and the other charters are making their deliveries,” he informs her.

“And the Chinese? I know their order was a surprise, but it seemed like you all had it handled,” she says while slipping the Air Force 1s on and smiling down at her splurge. Her godfather’s right, it’s nice to have more than a handful of things to call her own again.

“We’re a well-oiled machine,” Bishop assures her and at this Mia chortles.

“You’re definitely a well-intoxicated one,” she jokes, and they laugh once more. “I’m glad everything went well, Bop. You guys deserve this party tonight, you’ve been working your asses off lately.”

“Like we need a reason to party,” he comments, and she grins. “But a big payday does always make the boys more agreeable, and that I’m a fan of.”

“I’m sure you are. I’m ready to go if you are,” she says and slips her phone in her pocket, the only thing she’ll need for the night.

“You, uh, don’t seem surprised I’m here,” Bishop mentions.

“We usually get together when you get home,” she reminds him. “I figured we’d be doing something. It’s past lunch, so dinner,” she adds on with a shrug. “And I’m paying by the way, no buts.”

“Yeah, that ain’t happenin’,” her godfather states easily. “But, uh, wanted to check in, see how you’re doing now that you’re settling in at the job and the house, you know,” he goes on while taking a seat on her bed.

Realization washes over her. He’s not here for their normal post-run hang out, and this whole ‘check in’ shit is just that—shit. He knows how she’s doing with the job and the house, they talk every day, and before she started at the clinic he saw her everyday because she was making money at the clubhouse or scrap yard.

This isn’t just ‘checking in’. He wants to have a conversation about something particular but doesn’t know how to start it.

“I’m having flashbacks to my quinceanera, when you spent an hour talking about how I was about to become a woman,” she mumbles while taking a seat next to him, “but what you really wanted to know was if I was still a virgin because you knew Esai was about to ask me to be his girlfriend and you worried that he was going to deflower me that very night.”

“Did he?” he asks, and Mia looks at him with a raised eyebrow.

“That is none of your business, but no, he did not,” she appeases him, which isn’t a lie.

Technically, because she wasn’t a virgin that night, so when she had sex with Esai after her party she wasn’t deflowered. Not that he needs to know about that, there are some things her father doesn’t need to know. Esai was her first, but she isn’t fan of the word ‘deflower’ nor is she interested in talking to Bishop about the concept of virginity. No man’s dick is important enough to change any part of her identity.

“Good, good,” Bishop murmurs and nods. “My warnings didn’t stop you from slow dancing with him at every chance that night, though.”

“Bop,” Mia sighs and crosses her legs, “why don’t we do what we didn’t manage then? Just ask me what you want to know or tell me whatever it is you want to say, because it took me a good year to realize what you wanted from me during that long, excruciating talk before my party started.”

“I thought I was pretty clear about how decisions you made that night could affect you for the rest of your life, and how you needed to protect yourself, and do what you thought was right,” he replies.

“I was fifteen, Bop,” she reminds him. “Besides that, I knew Esai was going to officially ask me out, so I had a little more on my mind than figuring out what you were actually trying to tell me,” she goes on. “Plus, I was dreading what you all would say during your speeches, which I was right to because it was another hour of men talking about my virginity without actually talking about it and I was mortified,” she says then remembers that this isn’t the conversation her godfather wants to have. “What is on your mind, Bop?”

“Look,” he starts and leans forward onto his knees, his hands clasped together between them. “I know this shit ain’t my business, that we try to stay out of each other’s personal lives, but if it involves my club and one of my guys, I should at least know what’s going on.”

“What are you talking about?” Mia asks as dread trickles down her spine, not sure exactly how dumb to play. She doesn’t want to give away information he doesn’t know while he’s fishing for whatever it is he wants to know, you know?

Bishop continues, “I know these guys, Mia. I know them, I know their habits, their routines, and I know when something is off with one of them. They are my family just as much as you are, I’d die for them, and they’d do the same for me.”

“That’s morbid, but sweet,” she comments innocently.

“I’m being serious, Mia,” Bishop says, his voice booming. “I need you to be honest with me.”

“Then ask me what you want to know instead of trying to trick me into saying something,” she responds, her tone now just as serious.

“When we’re on runs and we’ve reached our drop point and we’re bone tired, we spend the night,” he starts. “But, boys being boys, they don’t always spend their time sleeping, if you know what I mean, and Angel is no exception.”

Mia’s stomach sinks. Does Bishop think she’s dating Angel and trying to tell her he slept with someone else on their run?

Sure, she and Angel aren’t together, but they agreed while they are hooking up to only hook up with each other. Then again, with the clinic opening she’s done little more than eat, sleep, work and repeat in the last two weeks. Maybe since she’s been too busy and tired for sex lately, he started to look elsewhere. After all, that’s what Esai used to do—get his needs met when on a run. It meant she was less likely to run into whoever he cheated with, and it also meant it was with a girl who knew better than to expect anything more from him.

“Okay,” Mia manages after a minute, not sure what else to say, and not sure why her chest feels like an open wound. It’s not the first time the guy she’s sleeping with stepped out on her when on a run.

So, Angel broke their deal, she doesn’t know what Bishop has to do with it, especially since he wasn’t supposed to know they were sleeping together in the first place. If he thinks they are dating does he think Angel just cheated on her? He always stayed out of her and Esai’s relationship—that is, until she brought him into it because she was a stupid, heartbroken kid who wanted her dad on her side, not caring what position it put him in with the club.

“I don’t know what you want from me, Bop,” she murmurs. “You know the rules, what happens on a run stays on a run, and I don’t know what this has to do with me.”

“I want you to tell me the truth about what’s going on with you and Angel, Mia,” he insists as he turns his face to look her in the eye. “I wanna know if you’re the reason why the guy who never makes the smart move and chooses to sleep on a run actually has done just that ever since you moved here.”

Oh. “Oh,” she mumbles and thinks of what to say as warmth blooms in her chest and she fights the urge to smile. He didn’t cheat on her!

Well, of course he didn’t, because they aren’t dating. He’s just the best friend she’s sleeping with.

“I know you two are close, and at the first I thought it was just him actually being tired, but it’s been months and—”

“Angel and I aren’t together,” she cuts him off quickly. “If we were, I would have told you,” she assures him. “That’s not something I would keep from you. I know what being with a guy in the club means, the power it holds, and the weakness it can be. I wouldn’t keep it a secret from you. Angel and I, we aren’t doing anything like that.”

“You sure about that?” he asks with a look of disbelief on his face.

“Yes. We’re sleeping together, that’s it,” Mia admits because there is no point in hiding it now.

They haven’t exactly been discreet. The boys know, Letty almost walked in on them, it’s only been two weeks and a few of the girls at the clinic are already whispering about him. Besides, Bishop’s too smart to think they are just friends; he knows the both of them too well.

“And we’re friends. Good friends, more like best friends, even though that makes us sound twelve,” she mumbles as an afterthought. “We can talk to each other, no bullshit, and he makes me laugh, but we’re just friends, I promise.”

“Friends,” Bishop repeats and then barks out a laugh.

“We are!” Mia insists. “I’m not fucking with you.”

He stands from the bed, a hand attempting to stifle his laughter. “No, no, I know you’re not. I know you believe you’re friends, that’s what makes this funny.”

“Bop!”

“You know, I was friends with your mother once,” he says.

“Ew! No, we’re not—this is not the same thing,” she tells him, standing so she can look him in the eye.

“Your dad was friends with her too,” he goes on.

“Enough, can we go now, please? You got the information you wanted, I’ve been adequately traumatized, I think we’re done here.”

“Yeah, yeah, we can go. Just, be safe, will ya?” he pleads, his eyes much softer now.

Mia groans. “We went over this before my quinceanera too, Bop. I know how to use a condom and have my end taken care of—”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” her godfather cuts her off. “I mean, I’m glad you’re using protection, but I’m talking about this,” he said and jabs a finger at her chest. “Your heart doesn’t give a fuck what’s going on up here,” he says and now points at her temple. “You have control over a lot in life, what you wanna do, where you wanna live, the stuff you wear and how you show yourself to the world, but your heart? That fucker you don’t have much control of, and it’ll get you every time, trust me. So, you protect it any way you can, you hear me?”

Mia nods and bites her lip. “I hear you, Bop,” she assures him. “But you see what you just said, that’s what you should have told me before my quinceanera,” she says. “That is the straightforward kind of shit a fifteen-year-old needs to hear.”

Bishop grins and leans forward to kiss her forehead. “Shut up and get on my bike, will ya?”

“Sure thing, Papa,” she answers and leads the way down the steps and out the door, completely missing the look on Bishop’s face at her calling him dad, even if only in passing. If she had, she probably wouldn’t be calling him just ‘Bop’ much longer. “But I’m still paying for dinner!” she calls over her shoulder, not caring to listen to his response because she isn’t going to fold on this one.

Hours later Mia tilts her neck to the side, giving Angel room to continue his hot kisses, her eyes trying to focus on the fire in front of them, but everything is getting hazy. “I’m starting to think I shouldn’t have told you,” she murmurs, hoping he thinks her low tone is because she’s trying to be quiet, not because she’s breathless.

“What you mean?” he wonders, his lips now at her ear, his teeth teasing at her lobe.

“You wouldn’t be torturing me like this if I hadn’t told you Bishop knows,” she moans and pulls away when he hits a particularly sensitive spot. “We need to stop. I told you we have to be respectful when he’s around.”

“Baby, this isn’t disrespectful,” he insists, his hands now playing with the lace strings at the front of her top. “If you want to see what that looks like though…” he says and tugs on the knot.

“Angel!” she gasps and slaps his hand away. “Be good.”

He grins and pulls away, leaving an arm around her shoulders and leans back in their bench seat. It’s the backseat of what probably was some kind of station wagon that the boys pulled out of the scrapyard. It fits three, and since they are so low to the ground Angel’s legs are spread out in front of them, otherwise they’d be touching his chest.

“Fuck, it feels good to be home for more than 12 fucking hours,” he sighs while scooting down the seat even more so his head can rest on her shoulders. “Feels even better to know I get to spend tomorrow doin’ nothing but you.”

At this, Mia laughs, and it’s full and hearty. “As long as you make it worth my time,” she comments. “I do only get one full weekend off a month, you know?”

“Mi dulce, have I ever not left you shaking uncontrollably on my cock?” Angel questions while lighting a cigarette, his actions very nonchalant after the sentence he just dropped.

“Hey, there’s a first time for everything,” she teases him.

He shakes his head at her. “Keep talkin’ shit, we’ll see how tough you are later,” he warns as he decides he isn’t comfortable enough and moves so his head is in her lap, his legs taking up the rest of their seat.

“Ooh, I’m scared,” she sing-songs.

“Better be,” he insists as smoke escapes his lips. “I just spent the last week on the road with dudes, busy as fuck, and without tasting my girl for sixteen days because of her job. I have needs, querida.”

Mia rolls her lips together to keep from laughing. “My poor little drug smuggler,” she coos. “Did you have a tough time partying in Oregon?”

“Yeah, fucking right. It always turns into a pissing match up there,” Angel grumbles. “They are the biggest charter next to Oakland, so they think they got bigger balls than the rest of us. The rest of ‘em forget they wouldn’t have any H if it wasn’t for Santo Padre risking our asses in the tunnels, over the border, and riding it up the fucking coast.”

“I’m sure you guys didn’t have a problem reminding them,” she comments with a hand carding through his hair.

“Didn’t have to,” he replies, “E did it for us. He’s still new to the prez patch, so he’s making sure everyone knows their places, that even though his pop isn’t the president of Oakland anymore doesn’t mean they aren’t in control.”

Mia’s movements stumble. “E? E—Esai was there?”

“Yeah. He likes to make himself known on big hauls, says he’s getting his hands dirty too, not just getting rich off our work,” Angel tells her. “Earns a lot of respect that way, and he gets to know everyone, even prospects.”

She nods, her eyes studying the orange glow. “He does have a way of making everyone feel special,” she mumbles. “Did he… did he, um, ask about me?”

Angel inhales deeply. “Asked Bish,” he says with smoke leaking from his mouth.

“What did he say?”

“I don’t know, they were walking away, wasn’t my business to listen,” he reminds her.

“Not your business?” Mia demands. “I’m—we’re best friends, it’s your business if I say it is and it is.”

“Oookay?” Angel says with his voice on the verge of laughter. “What did you want me to say?” he asks while flicking his butt into the fire. “’Wassup bro, you know the only girl you said you’d ever love? Well, I’m fucking her regularly. She says hi’?”

Mia shrugs. “You coulda gone without ‘the only girl you’d ever love’ part, I feel like that’s a little blow the belt,” she offers, and he chuckles.

“You’re alright with the ‘fucking her regularly’ part then?”

“I mean,” she starts with another shrug, “I’ve heard enough about his exploits, he can hear some of mine.”

Angel takes her free hand and links it through his. “You miss him. Just call him, querida.”

“He didn’t talk to you at all?” she asks, ignoring him, and his suggestion, as she does every time she thinks of it herself.

“We spoke, I guess? Said hi, asked how shit was, I said good, asked how his shit was, he said good, we laughed at something dumb Pac said—”

“Pac was there?” Mia questions, her voice sad as it tapers off. “Of course, Pac was there, he’s Esai's El Pacificador,” she mumbles to herself. “What’d you laugh at him for?” she demands with a punch to the chest with their connected hands.

“Ow! Nothin’! It was a joke. We weren’t laughing at him, geez,” Angel defends.

“Pac’s the fuckin’ best, he was always being made fun of by assholes when we were kids, but… he did it on purpose. That way they weren’t teasing anyone else,” she tells him. “Then Esai came around and a fight would break out. I was the look out,” she says with both nostalgia and pride splashed across her face. “We were the three musketeers.”

“Did that extend to when you and E started dating—stop fuckin’ hitting me!” he exclaims in a laugh.

“No, it did not,” she answers anyways. “But Pac felt left out so I’d make sure to plan stuff with the three of us,” she goes on. “He used to get upset because girls were afraid to date him knowing if they hurt him I’d fuck them up.”

Angel stares up at her and licks his lips. “Call them, baby, I know you miss them.”

“It’s not that easy—”

“It is. Especially with Paco, you think he’s gonna bring up what happened? He’s just gonna be happy to talk to you. He’s like a fuckin’ puppy with a gun.”

At this, Mia laughs. “You’re not wrong, but if I talk to Paco, he’s gonna tell Esai and—”

“So fucking call them both,” he cuts her off again. “Esai’s fucked you over enough times that he definitely owes you one. Call, you don’t have to say you’re sorry or explain shit if you don’t want to. If he’s fuckin’ smart he’ll just pick up wherever you left off.”

“Owes me more like a hundred and one,” she mumbles. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Alright,” he replies easily.

“That’s… that’s it? You’re not gonna keep pushing me or tell me I should do it or anything?” she wonders.

Angel sits up and gives her a shrug, “Ain’t my place. I said my part. I think you should reach out. You’ve never given Esai your new number, so he can’t do it. If you want me or Bish to pass your number along, just say so. Otherwise, it’s on you.”

Mia leans forward and presses a kiss to his lips. “You’re cute, osito,” she whispers.

“Don’t spread it around,” he murmurs, then kisses her again.

“Imma spread something later,” she says and Angel chuckles against her lips. “That sounded better in my head,” she admits and drops her head to his chest.

“To be fair, I didn’t think we were spreading mulch around,” he replies while wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “Fuck, that reminds me, I told Bish I’d cut your grass tomorrow.”

“You just volunteered for this?” she asks as she lifts her head enough to look him in the eye.

“He was about to make EZ do it, and I didn’t want him at the house—I’m tryna keep you naked most the day tomorrow—so I said I’d do it, that I was dropping by anyways,” Angel explains. “Now that he knows we’re fucking he knows that was a lie, but,” he stops with a shrug. “Imma still do it.”

“You’re trying to keep me naked tomorrow, huh?” she says with a smile. “Then how am I gonna give you a beer dressed in a tiny bikini top and my shortest shorts while you mow the lawn?”

Angel pulls her by the back of her neck until they are kissing. “That ain’t happenin’ unless you want me to take you right there in the grass.”

“Only if you’re on the bottom,” Mia counters, “I feel like grass would rub in a bad way, you know?”

He laughs as he drops his head to her shoulder. “So, you want my ass on fire?”

“Better than mine!” she replies. “And you get to stare at my boobs, so no complaining.”

“Never,” he murmurs, about to go into another kiss when they are interrupted.

“Either of you need a beer?” they hear over their heads and look up to find EZ.

“If we fucking did you look real empty handed,” Angel tells his brother, then grimaces when Mia smacks him once again. “Fucking stop that,” he mutters and rubs his chest. “It’s the same spot every fucking time.”

“No, we’re good Ezekiel, thank you,” Mia answers for them after a pointed look at his older brother.

“We are?” Angel asks with crinkled eyebrows.

“If you plan on driving me home, yeah,” she tells him and he pouts, but doesn’t speak up because he knows its code leaving soon.

He does, however, stand up. “Alright, if we’re heading out I gotta take a piss,” he says, taking her hint. “You should too, you know, for what I got planned for you,” he says while sending a wink Mia’s way before sauntering off.

“You know,” EZ starts while plopping down next to her. “He’s heading into the clubhouse like he hasn’t whipped it out in front of us all week on the road.”

“Yeah, most the girls have probably seen it too,” Mia agrees, and EZ laughs in agreement. “Woulda saved him a trip.”

EZ looks to see his brother disappear into the clubhouse. “Look, I, uh, wanted to talk to you real quick before Angel comes back.”

“Should I be nervous about this?” she asks, racking her brain for something EZ would need to talk to her about, but comes up with nothing.

“No, I just—” he stops and lifts his butt up as he reaches for his wallet. “When we were teenagers, Angel was real into art. He was really good at it too, it was something he and our mom did together.”

Mia nods, not wanting to tell him she already knew this, but is intrigued all the same. What could he have to tell her?

“But, uh, back then he doodled on everything. It drove our parents nuts. It would be all over the mail, the newspaper, his homework, everything,” he goes on. “He, uh, he stopped when Mom died, and as far as I knew he hadn’t gotten back into it,” he stops and looks to make sure Angel isn’t on his way back yet. “But, uh, before we left the motel at one of our stops, the guys made me go in to check the rooms, to make sure we didn’t leave anything. I saw this and took it without thinking,” he says and pulls a folded piece of paper from the wallet to hand to her.

She opens it with eyes crinkled to find a sketch of her done in pen.

“When I looked at it closer later I thought you should have it,” he finishes.

“I… um,” she stutters, her eyes glued to the paper. It’s only from her shoulders up, and it is rough, but undoubtedly her.

“You’ve brought out a part of my brother Pop and I haven’t seen in over eight years,” EZ tells her as she studies the sketch. “He’s not as angry or closed off. He actually even mentioned our mom the other day and we never talk about her.”

“EZ, I—”

“You don’t have to say anything, Mia. I know you guys are just friends, but I know that my brother feeling lighter, and it’s all because of you. I just wanted to thank you and give you this. It’s of you, so you should have it,” he insists.

“Thanks,” she murmurs while refolding it and putting it in her pocket. “He’s my best friend, the best I’ve ever had.”

“You’re the best he’s ever had too,” EZ tells her and stands, then offers her a hand. “Just don’t tell Coco, a fight might break out.”

Mia shrugs as he helps her up. “I don’t know, I think I could take him, he’s small, you know, and I have training.”

“I’d pay to see that,” he replies and they are laughing when Angel comes back.

“Aye, get your own girl best friend,” Angel jokes while slipping both arms around her shoulders from behind, making his little brother shake his head and walk away. “You ready to go?”

“I don’t know, but I am ready to cum,” she says then laughs at her own stupidity.

Angel turns her around and looks at her as if embarrassed for her before shrugging and lifting her over his shoulder.

“Ah! Angel!” she laughs with hands on his hips to steady herself as he heads for his bike.

“I’m just giving you what you want, mi dulce,” he insists. “Better yell bye to Bish, you’re gonna be busy for the rest of the weekend.”

Mia tries to take in her surroundings between the strips of hair blocking her vision, looking for her godfather in the upside-down masses. When she can’t find him, she just takes Angel’s advice. “Bye, Bop! I’ll call you tomorrow!” she shouts and the people around her laugh, Angel included.

“Alright, be safe!” she hears and raises a hand in acknowledgement at his double-edged meaning, but he has nothing to worry about. She’s on the pill and while Angel is in her heart, it’s not in a bad way, a way that would end in heartbreak like all her relationships do. He’s just her friend because anything more would fuck everything up and she isn’t going to let that happen.

Angel is too important.

It had just been a joke the day before, a flippant comment.

Mia had no real intention of putting on a bikini and teasing Angel as he mowed the grass, but—well, she did just buy one and it is hot outside and Angel isn’t one to turn down a beer, ever.

Him outside in a light pair of gray sweatpants and t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up didn’t help, his skin glistening in the California sun, hair free of its usual gel and so blowing gently in the breeze, and those dark shades on his face—it’s enough to make any girl weak in the knees.

Seconds later she’s running up the steps and digging through her shopping bags searching for the bikini Letty insisted she buy the day before. It’s a warm yellow with long strings that wrap and crisscross underneath her breasts before tying at her back. Instead of matching it with the bottoms, she jumps into her shortest black shorts that barely cover the slope of her ass. She throws her hair up into a messy bun before putting on some lotion, so her skin is extra soft and glowy, and envelopes her in a flowery smell, which she knows Angel is a sucker for.

Mia takes a beer from the fridge, cursing him for not buying twist offs as she searches for a bottle opener just as the lawnmower cuts off.

“Fuck!” she curses and decides to forget about opening it. If Angel actually decides to drink the beer while she’s wearing this they are going to share loud words.

She opens the door to the backyard to find Angel on his knees, his hands on the lawnmower, looking at something. He doesn’t look at her as pushes his sunglasses up into his hair before reaching for his phone and, she guesses, sends a text.

“I ran out of gas,” he calls over, his eyes trained on the cell phone screen. “Do you know if Bish keeps a gas can around?”

“No idea,” she answers while patiently waiting for him to look up.

“He doesn’t,” Angel confirms as he stands, his thumbs flying over the screen with a look of annoyance on his face. “He’s gonna send Creep with a gas can in a little bit, what’re you—” he stops as he finally lays eyes on her.

“I thought you might be thirsty,” she says innocently and holds the beer out, but makes no move to get closer.

His eyes look her up and down. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he asks with no heat.

“What’re you talking about?” she questions and shakes the beer a little. “Do you want the beer or not?”

“Fuck no,” Angel answers. “But if you don’t get in the house right now we’re gonna find out if grass really does burn.”

Mia drops the bottle when Angel starts after her, and she shrieks with laughter. He catches up with her in the living room, grabbing her around the middle and lifting her off her feet.

“You think it’s funny to tease me, hm?” he asks in her ear, his hands splayed across her abdomen now.

“You were teasing me first,” she counters and bites her lip as his hands attempt to feel every inch of her. “Wearing those sweatpants low and showing off your arms. I’m only being fair.”

“You think this is me teasing?” Angel demands of her as he makes his way to the couch, pushing her down onto it. “Nah, I’ll show you how I tease, baby,” he warns before getting on his knees.

In retrospect, she should have known Angel would take this as some sort of challenge. He always does, even if they are just playing around.

Later, she might think he does it as a way to prove himself, even if subconsciously, to show he can do anything she puts him up to because his parents never expected anything out of him the way they did EZ.

But now, as his buries his face between her legs, the psychology of it is far from her mind. Except maybe her own, how she’s a glutton for punishment, but instead of falling into old habits of shitty boyfriends she does this. It’s a healthier outlet, that’s for sure.

“Angel, baby, please,” she pleads when he pulls away after edging her for the third time.

“You think you deserve to cum, mi dulce?” he asks as he wipes her wetness from his beard and starts to leave wet kisses up her stomach and chest.

“Yes,” she breathes and gasps when he nips at her nipple after having pushed aside the cup of her bikini.

“But you haven’t been good,” he tells her before switching to her other breast, teeth scraping and tongue swirling, making her moan and mewl. A moment later he slips two fingers inside her and she sighs at the feeling of something filling her up, even if it’s not as big and thick as what she’s craving.

“I—I have,” she stutters out as she cradles his face in her hands.

“You think?” he asks and his fingers crook inside her just right making her tremble.

Mia nods. “Please, I want to cum for you,” she whispers and pushes her forehead against his. “Angel, let me show you I can be good.”

He smiles at her, it’s easy and carefree makes her heart skip a beat. “Do as I say and I’ll let you cum as much as you want, okay?” he starts and she nods up and down over and over until he starts rubbing slow circle on her clit as his long fingers slip in and out of her. “Say it.”

“I’ll do as you say,” she moans, her eyes struggling to stay trained on his.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs with a quick kiss. “You’re not going to cum on my fingers or my mouth, you’re not allowed to,” he tells her, and she wants to whine, but knows it won’t help her case. “Soon, I’m gonna get on the couch and you’re gonna ride my dick,” he says, and she nods once more, this time appreciatively. “And you’re gonna cum as much as you can when I’m inside you. I wanna feel you cum on my cock, you hear me? I want to feel every single one of ‘em. I want you to cover my cock in your cream.”

“Yes, yes, okay,” Mia agrees with her hands threaded into Angel’s hair.

“Then, when I think you’re done, you’re gonna get on your knees just like I am now and lick it all off me until I cum down the back of your throat,” he finishes.

“Yes, please. Angel, yes,” she pleads and pulls on his shirt in an attempt to get him on the couch, but all it does is make Angel remove his shirt entirely.

“Oh, baby girl,” he says with a lick of his lips. “I said ‘soon’ we’re gonna do all that, remember? I’m not done tasting you,” he tells her. “Until last night I went sixteen days without this, and I hated it,” he mumbles as his fingers start to play with her slit again.

Mia just closes her eyes and enjoys the feel of his fingers inside her, playing with her, torturing her.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, baby,” he mumbles against her skin. “Look at me,” he orders, and she forces her eyes open, but her eyelids remain heavy. “Feel with me,” he says, his voice much softer now, and takes her hand in his and brings it down to her opening. “Put your fingers in.”

She does as she’s told and her much smaller fingers slide in with no resistance, coating her skin in her slick juices. She moans at the feeling, but it’s nothing compared to Angel’s long fingers, and not even close to his thick dick.

“I want you,” Mia whimpers as Angel guides her fingers in and out of her. “Not me, I want—”

“I know,” Angel cuts her off. “Here, see why yours is my favorite,” he insists and brings her wet fingers to her mouth to taste. She opens for him and he smiles. “Good girl,” he murmurs as her lips close around her own fingers.

“Mm,” she moans at her taste and Angel smiles at her.

He leans down and takes a swipe up her slit and mimics her ‘mm’ before getting up on the couch and shucking his sweatpants off. “C’mere, baby,” he offers, and she jumps at the chance to swing a leg over his hips and settles down on his dick. “Fuck, I missed you,” he sighs as she sinks down on him. “I know I said it last night, but it’s fucking true,” he insists with his hands on her hips.

“I missed you too,” she replies as she starts to move frantically on top of him, chasing the release he’s been keeping from her. Her arms wrap around his shoulders for leverage, and she leans her head to rest against his. “Please, please, please,” she chants as she practically impales herself on his cock.

“C’mon, you can do it. I wanna feel the way you shake around me,” he says and it’s like a switch goes off inside her and she does exactly as he says.

She cums and her body shakes as her pussy trembles around him, but rather than let her come down Angel starts bucking his hips up inside her. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she swears and buries her face in his neck as she comes again, not as strongly, but it still makes Angel cuss as she clamps down around him.

Mia’s still trembling when Angel shifts to lie down on the couch, his hands undoing the knot at her back so her bikini becomes slack. He slips it over her head and tosses it to the side before lifting her chin to look at him. “You done already, mi dulce?” he asks while pulling at the back of her knees so he’s even deeper inside her.

She moans, but shakes her head.

“You sure?” he wonders with a thumb circling her clit. “All you gotta do is tap out and get on your knees to finish this, baby.”

“I’m not done,” Mia says once she composes herself, then with a twinkle in her eye stands, hating how empty she feels, even if for only a moment, before turning around and settling back down on him in reverse cowgirl, knowing it’s one of his favorite positions.

“Yes,” Angel groans in pleasure, his hips bucking to get deeper inside her.

She leans forward with hands on her knees and gets her hips going, throwing her head back as she grinds down on top of him. Suddenly, she feels a tug at her scalp, and she’s pulled back against Angel’s chest, her back arched perfectly in the air.

With one hand in her hair, Angel uses his other to reach around and rubs his fingers into her swollen clit. “Where am I, baby?” he asks in her ear, his voice low and full of gravel.

“My stomach, holy shit,” she cries and cums, this time feeling a gush and she knows she’s creaming his dick like he wanted, and it only makes her hips move faster. “One more, one more, please,” she pleads with both Angel and herself.

Angel lets her hair go and both arms move to pull at the back of her knees so she’s folded in half, lifting her in the air as his hips buck up into her pussy. “You’re so fucking tight, baby girl,” he says with each plunge inside her.

Mia completely let’s go, letting Angel take the lead and relaxes the best she can in his arms, her pussy clenching on his cock as she readies to cum.

“Go, go, go,” he chants, and she does with a spasm, her whole body shaking as it does when Angel is deep inside her, pleasuring her over and over again.

She hears him grunt behind her and knows he’s painfully close, he has to be.

When he puts her down, she doesn’t hesitate. It takes all the energy she has left to get off him and turn on her knees, doing as she’s told and takes all of him in her mouth in one go.

“Fuck,” he swears with fingers threaded into her hair so she doesn’t move. “You taste yourself on my dick, querida?” he asks, and she nods as her head bobs. “Suck it all off, baby.”

It’s not even a minute later that Angel is emptying himself down the back of her throat as promised. She opens her throat and takes everything he gives her, swallowing his white heat.

When she lets him go with a pop, she finds his face looking completely blissed out as she wipes her lips.

“Wanna know a secret?” she asks while lowering herself on top of him, his arms automatically wrapping around her, holding their sweat slicked bodies close.

“Mhm,” he murmurs with fingers carding through her hair.

“Your dick is my favorite too,” she admits and hears him chuckle against her hairline.

Before her can respond they hear the loud roar of a motorcycle pulling up. “Fuck, that’s Creep with the gas,” Angel groans and flips so she slides down the side of him onto the couch.

“Have fun finishing the grass,” Mia sighs and feels a blanket being placed over her, making her smile.

“You think you’re real funny, huh?” he asks while hopping into his shorts.

Mia shrugs, then squeals when he tickles her side.

“Aye, Angel, you in there?” they hear as the door starts to open.

“Yeah!” her best friend exclaims and runs for the door before Creeper can come in. “Lemme take you ‘round back,” he says and stops the other Mayan from coming in.

Mia just smiles against her blanket thinking she’s a lucky girl. She’s got a best friend who can fuck her then get up and cut her grass. He’s definitely a keeper.

Taglist:

@joalsglasses @mrsamaroevans @justahopelessssromantic @mrsjaxtellerfan @rosieposie0624 @starrynite7114 @proudlittlewitchbitch @luckyharley1903 @miss-nori85 @thesandbeneathmytoes @jasminee97 @jakiki94 @superhoeva

IF YOU WANT ADDED TO THE TAG LIST LET ME KNOW!

#mayans mc #fanfiction #angel reyes x oc #angel reyes x mia flores #friends can break your heart too #chapter 5 #mayans smut

64 notes · View notes

light-yaers · 3 years

Text

No Saints: Chapter Four

This content is explicit and is 18+

Warnings: Graphic sexual content, violence, implied effects of PTSD, death and explicit language.

Read on Ao3 here | Fic Masterpost

Word Count - 5.6k

Chapter Four

“You’re angry,” Mando said plainly. He stood in the shop, door closed and obviously locked, a week later. You stood behind your work desk, glaring up at his chrome visor and saying absolutely nothing.

You pointed to the collection of credits on the desktop. Mando followed your finger, seeing what the supposed problem was.

“You’re angry because I gave you my last pay?” He questioned, stepping closer to you at the desk.

“I said I don’t want your credits,” You told him bluntly. “Your money is your money—,”

“That was before you saved my life,” He interrupted, coming to lean down on the desk opposite you. You inhaled deeply, feeling a subtle rush of excitement in your gut at his closeness, despite the scolding you wanted to give him.

“I don’t want your money, Mando,” You stated, staring straight into his visor. “It’s not fair,”

“It is fair,” He retorted. “I haven’t needed information for a while. You’ve given me whiskey, bread, company—,”

“I don’t do that because I want to be paid, Mando!” You erupted. Stars, was this your first fight? God forbid.

He stepped back subtly, almost as if he was trying to figure out your emotions. You could imagine the furrowed brow beneath his helmet, the look of confusion and trying to understand what you fully meant.

“Then hear this,” He began. You heard the tone of his voice as he became sterner, as he’d figured out his words for definite. “If you go bankrupt, what happens then?”

You couldn’t help it, you had to roll your eyes at him. “That’s not your responsibility—,”

He interrupted you with a muffled groan, but instead of a seething anger, you felt... butterflies. When before it had simply been you admitting to your silly wants or desires, he’d finally cracked—he’d finally admitted that something was affecting him. “Without you on this planet, what will I do each time I return?”

You stood up slowly, involuntarily dropping your mouth open from this fucking realisation. Was Mando giving you credits to keep you in business? So he’d still have you to return to between jobs?

You couldn’t help it. All of your anger dissipated into thin air, replaced by the intense longing to fucking hug him, or laugh in his face about being the vulnerable one this time, or take off his helmet with your eyes closed and kiss his actual lips.

None of which you actually did—

Well, apart from the laughter. Soft chuckles escaped your lips, making Mando step back even further. It wasn’t often you were the one laughing at him, but this time was different.

“What?” He let out. You could hear the rising anger in his tone, but you couldn’t stop yourself from chortling. “What?” He repeated, stepping forward to approach you at the desk. You looked up into his visor, cheeks a soft shade of pink, smile shoved all over your face.

You allowed yourself a few seconds to breathe, to calm down, before you finally cleared your throat, getting in close to his visor. “You like me,” You whispered, followed by cascades of laughter once more. You had to grip onto the desk for support, otherwise you were sure you’d drop to the floor, clutching your stomach as your abs started to hurt.

Mando didn’t move, he only looked at you—stars, he was good at looking at you. Stare unwavering, body unmoving, but eyes racing behind his visor as he fought to soak up the entire image of you in front of him.

He let you have your fun, laughing solely at his expense, or maybe just to stop yourself from body slamming him to the floor in a fit of absolute arousal. When you’d slowed to subtle hiccups of laughter, he reached out, grabbing your neck and pulling your face closer to his helmet—

Stars, you ceased to breathe. You flicked your gaze over his visor, from left to right and back again, hoping that maybe you were hitting his eyes beneath. Fuck, what you’d do to see those eyes. You craved to know the colour, the warmth, the looks that Mando actually sent you. You wanted to see him clamp them shut with absolute pleasure, you wanted to see them crinkle when he laughed.

“Annoying,” Was all he said, but you didn’t feel hurt from it. You knew he was fucking deflecting—because you did that often. You settled on sending him a slight smirk in return, but all levels of composure went out of the window—when your name trickled from his lips—

Your name. The one you’d blurted out last week, before he’d fucking put you to bed. You went to move back immediately, but Mando’s grip on your neck only increased. He brought his other hand to settle on the other side, keeping you stuck right in front of him.

“There it is,” He whispered, letting out a few amused modulated breaths. “That blush,”

Stars—you wanted to simultaneously kill him and snog him.

“That blush makes your annoyance tolerable,” You raised your brows suddenly as your gut coiled uncontrollably. His voice was nothing more than a low growl, disguising itself as subtle anger; but you knew the difference. You’d heard Mando be angry, you’d heard him be soft and gentle, but you’d also heard him when he was fucking gagging for it—gagging to put his hands on your body, gagging to have you wrapped in his embrace.

“Does it, now?” You trickled out, the rising feeling of warmth fluttering through your body. It started in your stomach and spiralled outwards, hitting your chest, your arms, your shoulders and your pussy. When it hit that, your brain all but shut down, replaced with only the need—the need to hear him moan again. “What else makes it tolerable?”

Mando immediately started shaking it head. “No. I have to meet with Karga,”

You pouted at him, sticking out your lower lip and sending him a sad frown. You started sniffling overdramatically, wondering if this blatant fake act would actually work on him. He only shook his head again, faster this time, as if he was trying to convince himself not to go there. “Karga may have fallen for it, but I won’t,”

Your face dropped into an actual frown as you sighed. Mando removed his grip from your neck, picking up his satchel and slinging it over his shoulder like always. You walked round from behind your desk, trying not to get sad about how short his visit had been this week—he was a busy man, especially after the lateness of last week. He was probably trying to build up trust with Karga again.

You stood in front of him as he stared down at you, small frown still on your lips and the blush still plastered on your cheeks. “Short visit,” He stated, but it made you smile slightly. At least you weren’t the only one thinking it. “Do you still have that communicator I gave you?”

Stars, if you’d been blushing before, you were fucking red now. Your hand instinctively went to your wrist, where the comm had been since he’d put it on you last week. You hadn’t taken it off. Fuck. This is embarrassing.

Mando noticed your awkwardness, looking down to your hands and seeing that you still had it. For once, he didn’t let out a chuckle, but you figured it was as a kindness to your tomato face. “Good. Keep it,” He demanded softly. “It means I can talk to you as soon as I land,”

You tried not to let out a squeal. Mando hadn’t just admitted to wanting to keep you on Nevarro, for his sake, he’d also just made it incredibly clear that he, maybe, missed you. Missed you enough while he was off collecting quarries to want to speak to you as soon as he landed on Nevarro once again.

This man—this man of steel and metal and cold, of violence, who could definitely snap you in half in the blink of an eye, was one of the most gentle and kind beings you’d ever come across. The Mandalorian.

Maybe that wasn’t saying much, considering the people you’d been surrounded with for your entire life; but you felt the good in him. You felt his kindness, his warmth, his want to be there for you, next to you, with you. Fuck—don’t fall for him completely. Don’t you fucking dare.

If only he’d fuck you soon. That would be the cherry on of everything.

But there was something so quenching and satisfying about the build-up—the tension, the stares, the wonder of what part of your body he’d touch this time round, of which part of himself he’d reveal to you next. Stars, you loved it.

Mando nodded at you once, going to leave the shop, but you stepped forward abruptly.

“I’ll... see you next week?” You let it out in a rush, afraid that he’d dip through the door too fast for you to say a goodbye. No—it wasn’t a goodbye. It was a “see you later”.

Mando strolled back to you slowly, silently, as every step hit you like a brick. He let out a sigh, or a moan, or a whatever—it sounded half-way between pained and lost for words. Before you could figure out its meaning, he wrapped two Beskar clad arms around your shoulders, bringing a gloved hand to the back of your head and pushing you forward to rest upon his chest.

You gasped at his initial touch, not yet being used to this intimacy with him. Stars, you’d wrapped your legs around him before you’d wrapped your arms around him? It was enough to make you laugh, but all you felt in that moment was a softness that almost made you cry. It was an embrace that you hadn’t felt in years; a simple hug.

You’d forgotten all that could be fixed with one simple gesture of arms wrapped around your body. You’d forgotten the feeling of a chest rising and falling, of hearing a subtle heartbeat as your ear rested right over it. Mando’s was no different—it was a soft badum, over and over again beneath his Beskar.

You closed your eyes, guiltily realising that you didn’t want to let go, not anytime soon. But that time was cut exceptionally short, when Mando pulled himself away first. He gently peeled you from his body, extending you to be an arms-length away before dropping his arms.

“See you next week,” He said lowly. And then he was really gone, gently shutting your door from outside and leaving you to stand in the Mando-less silence of your shop.

Stars. This fucking sucks.

The more time you spent with the Mandalorian, the less you wanted him to leave. With every passing, it was becoming more of a battle on your emotions. Get it together. You berated yourself incessantly, telling yourself to get over it, to keep going forward, but with the passing time without him, you realised—

You were thinking more and more about your past.

And that was something that you never liked to do.

Despite the years, the change of perspective, the countless hours of repression and years of work to get yourself away from it, it was becoming impossible. You saw flashes while you worked, when you shot in the firing range, before you slept. It haunted you, seeping into your bones, as if you’d never fucking left it all behind.

Debilitating was a whole different ballpark, but this was debilitating. When you looked in the mirror, you couldn’t differentiate between your older and younger self anymore—behind your eyes, you still saw her; cut-throat, unremorseful, naïve.

What you always seemed to forget were your morals; you’d never wanted to do what you’d done. You’d never wanted to become what they made you, but it was all you knew, all you had, until you’d managed to get yourself out of there.

Maybe you’d picked Nevarro to settle as eternal punishment for your actions. Maybe you’d picked it because the danger, the griminess, the dirt and blood reminded you of the only home you could remember as a child.

You stifled a gasp as you dragged your hand down to your boot, sticking your fingers under the leather to feel the jagged, scarred skin on your right ankle—the mark they’d given you. The mark of your abilities, your absence of mercy, your creed.

Only when you got older did you realise it was never a creed—it was a cult, a gang—and you’d simply been one of many children trafficked to work for their ranks. If you hadn’t grown such a tough skin, you would have died alongside the ones that didn’t make it. So, you grew, you trained until you couldn’t stand, until your stomach ejected its contents, until the agony of the hits you were taking turned to a numbness that you’d learned to expect and persist through.

Fuck. Stop thinking about it. Stop.

You endured. You continued your work, you refused smiles from customers and repaired blaster after blaster, sometimes stopping to stare at the communicator on your wrist that only served as a reminder that he was gone. Stars, don’t get soft now.

It was a week later when his voice rang through the band on your arm. He said your name, and dank farrik, you freaked the fuck out. You shot out of bed, half asleep, afraid that they’d found you—that they’d scoured the universe to find you, to capture you, to torture you for your desertion—

You flailed wildly, picking up your blaster as a reflex and squinting into the darkness of your room. You were alone. “Did I wake you?” His modulated drawl spoke up again. Fuck—it’s just Mando. You clutched your heart painfully, feeling the rapid pulse of its beat throbbing throughout your entire body.

“No,” You replied breathily, trying to calm yourself down. “Where are you?”

Mando groaned on the other end of the line, but it wasn’t a noise of his that you’d ever heard before. It wasn’t strained from arousal, it wasn’t the hungriness you knew he could possess, it was pain. “Outside the city,” He replied, only confirming that something had happened.

“What’s wrong?” You bleated through the comms. “Are you hurt?”

Mando chuckled once, before letting out a colossal groan in agony. Now, you were panicking. It’s not that you thought he was indestructible, but he’d never wavered with his strength, and with all that armour you’d never know how someone could actually strike him where it hurt.

“Do you have any Bacta shots?” He asked, groaning even more. You clambered up immediately, going to check your first aid supplies. You shuffled through them all, throwing gauze and bandaids and surgical tape behind you before letting out a frustrated huff.

“No, I—I don’t have any,” You stuttered, still overcome with the adrenaline you woke up to.

“Sewing kit?” He persisted. You nodded quickly to yourself, before you realised he couldn’t fucking see you.

“Yes, I have one,” You shuffled through the cupboards beneath your work desk quickly, finding the small sewing kit that you rarely used. Weapon repairs didn’t use thread.

“Can you—,” He groaned between words. “Bring it— to the Razor Crest?”

You were already slipping on your sweats and a light jacket, nodding to yourself feverishly, before you managed to stutter out a response. “I’m on the way—be there soon—,”

“Be careful,” Mando forced out. “Sending you my coordinates,”

You followed his coordinates to the outside of the city. You’d never walked around Nevarro after dark much and for absolute good reason. It was grimy and mysterious, with dark alleys and even darker individuals. You had a constant grip on the blaster clipped to your waist as an understandable precaution, grasping it all the way to the outer sections of the city.

When you saw his ship in the distance, you broke into a run. You pumped your arms like you had no other agenda, embracing the adrenaline coursing through your blood and using it to your advantage.

“I’m outside your ship,” You breathed down the comms. His answer was opening up the hatch of the Razor Crest. You jumped in before it reached the floor, looking on the walls to close it right back up again. You stamped the controls and the ramp began to close once more, but you weren’t interested in it—

You were interested in the mound of Beskar on the floor that you recognised as Mando’s chest, shoulder and arm plates. You scanned the darkness of his ship, catching your eye on the subtle light reflection of his chrome helmet.

You rushed forward to see him crumpled on a rickety medical bed, slumped and breathing harshly. “Fuck—Mando,” You let out, approaching him quickly. You placed your hands on his armour-less forearms, but it only made him flinch in pain.

“S’okay, just a stab wound,” He whispered out coarsely.

It’s okay? This fucking idiot.

You looked at him in a panic, knowing that he most certainly wasn’t okay. He was putting on a front, maybe for your sake, or for his. You could tell he was worried; otherwise he wouldn’t have contacted you to meet him on his ship.

“Did you—bring the kit?” He stuttered out. You fumbled with the kit, pulling it from the pocket of your jacket. He only nodded, lying back onto the bed in flinches and staggered movements until only his legs dangled off the end, the rest of him laid down. “Stitches. Needs stitches,”

You stood up straight immediately, spotting a storage box by the cockpit ladder and grabbing it swiftly. You dropped it by the side of the bed, slamming yourself down on top of it and ignoring the shake in your fingers as you flicked your eyes over his body.

He’d taken off all of the Beskar on his chest, leaving on the leg armour. His undershirt was black and thick, but even that didn’t stop you from seeing the unmistakable slick of blood, gushing from beneath a spot on his stomach. Tentatively, you curled your fingers beneath the shirt, pulling it up his chest slowly, exposing the wound—

Stars, it was deep.

It was deep and gushing with red, as every breath Mando took only accelerated his blood loss. You were surprised he hadn’t passed out from the loss yet, let alone still been able to talk and just about move.

“Stars, Mando—I—,” You stuttered out, clutching the sewing kit in your fingers and wondering what the fuck you were meant to do. You weren’t a seamstress, and fuck, you’d never given anyone stitches before.

“I trust you,” The words trickled from beneath his helmet. You only indulged in his confession for a second, before tearing open the sewing kit. You spotted Mando’s first aid kit on the floor by the bed, taking a bundle of gauze and wipes as you fought to stop yourself from shaking.

You wiped down his wound, clenching your jaw as you saw the agonising way he tensed his entire body as you cleaned his flesh, ridding it of all of the blood you could. You picked up a needle then, choosing the biggest and most curved of the bunch, and threading it through with the strongest stuff in the pack. You had no idea if this would hold, but it would have to do until he started to heal, or until he could find a Bacta shot on Nevarro.

“I’m sorry,” You breathed out. “It’s going to hurt, Mando,”

He fucking laughed, spluttering out an agonising groan afterwards. You wanted to kick him, to shout at him to stop fucking doing that. “I know. Just do it,” He let out. You could tell it was through clenched teeth. He was preparing himself for immense pain.

With every groan he let out, you wanted to cry. With every stab of the needle next to the wound, you were sure he was going to slap you; you wouldn’t have blamed him, honestly. You saw the way his entire body was shaking, was going into shock slowly and agonisingly. Yet he stayed awake. You saw the subtle twitch of his fingers with every pull of the thread, with every pent-up breath you let out after another successful stitch was added to the wound.

You alternated with wiping the wound of excess blood and pushing the needle through his skin, making sure to keep it as clean as fucking possible with what you had. God forbid, infection set in afterwards. He would have been better off without you in that sense.

You were sweating profusely by the time you pulled the last stitch through, sealing up the wound as tightly as you could against his painful moans.

“Okay—okay, almost done. Hold on, Mando,” You didn’t let yourself celebrate just yet. You dropped the bloody needle and thread to the floor, picking up the roll of gauze. Stars—you needed him to sit up for you to wrap it around his torso.

Mando knew what you needed before you’d ever said it, as he tilted his helmet in your direction. Stars, you didn’t want him to see you like this. Sweating, on the brink of fucking tears, his blood beneath your fingernails.

“Up?” He let out, but you heard the regained strength in his voice. You nodded at him morbidly, but nevertheless, he did it. It was a fucking struggle; you had to give him your arm and stars, he was fucking strong. He gripped onto your arm and bit through the agony as he hoisted himself up to a sitting position. You didn’t take your eyes off the wound, too afraid that it would suddenly burst, but it held.

His shirt fluttered down his torso, covering the wound when he’d finally made it to sitting. There was no way in hell he’d be able to hold it up himself, not with the core strength it would take him to do it in his exhausted state.

You placed the gauze between his legs, curling your fingers beneath his shirt once more. “I need to take it off,” You gulped. If this was any other occasion, you’d be blushing. Seeing Mando’s hands was one thing, but seeing his chest, the gleam of his sweat, the tan of his skin and the subtle scarring from past battles—you wanted to place your hands all over it.

Fucking hell. He’s wounded. Stop it.

Mando obeyed, helping you slightly to lift the shirt over his helmet. You would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so tense; it got caught over his visor, leaving you with the image of him with his shirt stuck over his head, arms up and chest bare. God—it was sort of funny. You’d definitely laugh about it later, if he didn’t fucking pass out before you were done patching him up.

“This is not—,” He groaned. “How I imagined being—half-naked— in front of you,” The softness of his voice, despite the fucking pain, the agony, the panic that he obviously felt, filled you with a warmth that steadied you for the first time since entering his ship.

He was trying to make you feel better. Trying to calm you down, despite him being the one who should be worrying immensely. You ignored the tiny amount of blush that you felt on your cheeks, picking up the gauze and placing it over his wound gently.

You wrapped it around him several times, having to stand up and over him to wrap it behind him. You wrapped it around him four times, before you felt his fingers find your waist. You gasped slightly, but didn’t stop coiling gauze around him up. Only when his head dropped onto your chest did you stop—

You looked down at him, gauze still in your hands, just to savour this image. You were stood in front of him, while he sat beneath you, utterly encased in the protection of your body. His fingers were gripped onto your jacket tightly, feeling the fabric between his fingers and allowing his thumbs to gently fumble around your waist. His head on your chest was new altogether—the helmet was heavier than you’d ever thought it would be, and stars, you had to stop yourself from imagining his face beneath—

Eyes closed, mouth ajar as he took in gentle, calming breaths, feeling the comfort that the sound of your heartbeat offered him beneath your ribs.

You smiled to yourself, ignoring the pooled sweat that sat atop your cheeks and above your brow. Wrapping the gauze around him once more, you tucked the end back in and tied it securely, testing to see if it would budge easily. You were satisfied.

“Done,” You spoke, letting all of your panic flood away with that single word, before you slumped yourself down on the storage box next to the bed, after Mando removed his grip from you.

Fuck. You felt dizzy.

You felt utterly spent, overcome by the rapid heartbeat in your ears and the feeling of your blood beneath your skin and flesh. All you could feel was the anxiety that riddled your body, despite knowing that you were done, finished, that Mando would be okay with some rest and a few changes of gauze over the next few weeks.

You looked at your trembling fingers, seeing every little spot of dried blood that had turned to a muddied brown. All you could feel was his writhing body, his pain, his groans—

But that stopped as soon as Mando placed his hand on your cheek.

You looked up at him, flittering your eyes over his helmet and travelling them down to his, now mostly gauze covered, chest. God, that chest. You couldn’t believe you’d just touched his chest freely, but not for the reasons that you’d ever wanted to before. Stars, you never wanted to see him wounded like this again, let alone have to sew up his skin a second time.

“I was right to trust you,” He said softly, circling his thumb rhythmically over your warm cheeks. You let out an abrupt scoff, needing to find comedy in this situation before you utterly exploded into tears and cries.

“Stupid decision. You’re just lucky that I’m good under pressure,” Good under pressure. What a blatant fucking lie, evidently.

“No,” He spoke up. “You’re good in general,”

Stars. If only he knew all that you’d done in your life. He would be a saint in comparison.

You allowed yourself to let go, to feel only the touch of his fingers upon your cheek. Those hands, you loved the roughness, the coarseness, the gentleness of the ridges between his fingers and his palm. It was enough to calm you down tenfold, sucking away the anxiety and the fear that had settled within you over the past week.

“It’s late,” You spoke, sending him a small smile. “I should get back before dawn,”

Mando went stiff, so abruptly that you thought something had happened with his wound. You frowned, reaching out to the gauze, but he kept you in place by swivelling himself round on the bed to face you fully. You gasped when he raised his other hand to your face, holding your head in his hands and staring directly into your goddamn soul.

“You could stay,” He whispered it, allowing his voice to penetrate the entire space around you, filtering through your ears and travelling down your spine, causing you to involuntarily shiver. “Till morning, when it’s safe to go back into town,”

Safe. On Nevarro? That didn’t exist. But he was right—daytime in the city is better than the dark.

You tried not to visibly squirm. This was new, this was... unexpected. When before, Mando had been so quick to turn down staying at your shop, he was suddenly offering you the same on a silver platter. But this was different—both of you knew nothing could happen that evening, not with his wound, not with your exhaustion.

The thought of sleeping on the floor of a ship had never appealed to you before, until you factored in the fact that Mando would be there, too. Whether he stayed on the sad excuse for a bed with his legs dangling off the end, or whether he joined you on the floor, you’d be next to him.

It was an offer that you, unapologetically, weren’t going to say no to. But you also didn’t want to reveal just how much his offer had set you alight. You felt it in the tips of your fingers, electricity shooting its way up your arms and out from your chest, igniting all the senses in your body until your hairs stood on end at the mere thought of being this close to him for a night.

When before, you’d stolen time with him between his jobs, lucky to get a few hours with the hunter a week before he had to leave and you were left with the wondering worries of his safety; now? This was a different level. He’d invited you to stay.

And you said the only answer you could think of—

“Okay,”

Before you had the chance to move, you heard something from behind you—it didn’t sound like a person, it sounded like... gurgling? It made you jump out of your skin, forgetting about the comforting touch of the Mandalorian before you. You saw Mando’s head drop in defeat, but you didn’t know what for.

“Click that button,” He said lowly, pointing to a control pad beside a built-in closet space in the hull. You got up tentatively, standing before the doors of the closet, before pressing the button Mando had gestured to—

What met you were the biggest eyes you’d ever seen. Black, deep, and absolutely adorable. Its ears were something else. Huge, compared to the tiny body it possessed, covered in a potato sack of a robe that was far too big for it.

“Stars...” Was all you managed to let out. “What—what is it?” Your brain was struggling to determine whether or not it was cute or ugly, but when it let out the most adorable of gurgles, you ultimately landed on cute—cute as fuck.

“Baby,” Mando replied, as if it was obvious.

“A baby?” You let out in disbelief. “Mando—why the kriff do you have a baby in your closet?” You turned back to him, acknowledging the way he didn’t even seem bothered about the little green, hairy, monster baby in his ship.

You shot your gaze back to the kid when he blurted out a confused laugh, almost as if he was asking who’s this?

“I need rest,” He replied. “I’ll... explain in the morning,”

The morning. Stars, you’d get to see him in the morning. And you’d get to see... his baby. As much as you wanted to object, to know everything right that second, you were also fighting off your own exhaustion. You couldn’t imagine the physical strain that Mando was feeling, and that was enough to get you to stop with the questioning.

You strolled back to his bedside, picking up his bloodied shirt on the way and folding it up, before placing it on the floor by the medical bed. “You take the bed—,” He began, but you cut him off immediately.

“No way, you’re the one with fourteen new stitches,” You scoffed. You looked around the ship, spotting a bundled blanket by some open floor space on the hull. “I’m fine on the floor,”

“Just—,” He went to protest, but you placed a finger over where you assumed his mouth would be on his helmet.

“Don’t fight with me now, Mando. Not after I’ve given you stitches and met your son,”

Maybe he wanted to object further, but at that moment he simply accepted your word. He laid back on the bed, stretching his long torso out until most of his body was being supported by the rickety mattress. He turned his helmet towards the closet, staring at the kid. “Be good. We have a guest,” You ignored the violent blush of your cheeks at his parenting voice. Stars, why was this sexy? “Can you... shut the door...” Mando’s voice trailed off, as you realised the exhaustion and shock was full taking over his body.

You did as he asked, carrying the blanket you saw earlier while you approached the kid once more. You gave him another once over, not being able to help the small smile that appeared on your lips—god, he was cute. He was green and hairy and had wrinkles, but fuck, he was cute. You couldn’t wait to hear this story.

With the click on the control panel, the door was sealed again once more, keeping the kid safe and sound for the night. You settled yourself on the floor of the hull, spreading out the blanket and lying yourself out on it, before wrapping the excess around you like a sleeping bag. Honestly, you’d slept in worse places, and knowing that Mando was mere meters away from you meant you didn’t give a shit.

“Goodnight, Mando,” You whispered, knowing he wouldn’t hear you at all. The sound of subtle snores was already trickling from his modulator.

You knew then, as you settled onto the cold, metal hull of the Razor Crest, that for the first time all week, you weren’t thinking about your past. As you shut your eyes and sleep began to take you, instead of that naïve girl for seven years ago meeting you on the other side—

It was Mando; asking you to stay forever.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fic #star wars #star wars fic #fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #ao3 #wattpad #smut and angst #smut and fluff #no saints #no saints fic #update

59 notes · View notes

perpetuelledaydreaming · 3 years

Text

Illicit affairs - Chapter 4

summary: tony can’t catch a break with his daughter, y/n receives an unexpected call and then goes for a little day trip to coney island and for peter somethings sus.

Listen to: Girls like Girls - Hayley Kiyoko & Ta reine - Angèle

word count: 13.9k (longest chapter yet)

(author’s note at the end now)

series masterlist

If you were honest with yourself, you knew that what you had done at the club days prior wasn’t exactly the kind of behavior that Tony or Steve approved of; honestly none of the Avengers. So, the next day when you woke-up to your dad incessantly knocking on your door, you were aware it wasn’t a good thing. Tony’s face twisted as he watched your body covered in bruises and your tired eyes when you opened the door, with the complete knowledge that he had seen the news and that the news had not been so good with you.

You hadn’t obviously catch anyone, so that presented a problem from a PR point of view because at least that way you could twist the news and tell them that barely destroying an entire building had a good reason. But since it was supposed to be a secret mission it was so much harder to justify to the public. Moreover, some of the news outlets linked the fact that there was a possible connection to the Maggia family, which completely blew out the cover you had and the element of surprise. The Avengers had to release a statement explaining it had been part of aid to the NYPD on a drug raid, which still affected the Maggia family but not that much. Nonetheless, The Daily Bugle had been implacable with you, you had even had to send a cease-and-desist to make J. Jonah Jameson stop the defamation against you since he had published that you were a threat to society.

You figured you had a good rant coming your way, you were aware that you deserved it but you also knew you didn’t have many other choices to get the information you had now gotten or to escape after getting the information. It seemed only logical considering that you had been caught by one of the most dangerous men in the Maggia family / Kingpin circle but none of the Avengers saw it the same way. Harley and Wanda were the only ones that hadn’t been scolding you or giving you the disappointing looks that you received from the older Avengers, and you appreciated that from them immensely. Peter had also tried to be by your side as much as he could, every day since the undercover mission disaster after he got out of class, he would head to Stark Industries and share a chat and coffee before you both got to work or before he had to leave for studying or to see Gwen.

You were always beyond thankful for it, they were the only ones (with Pepper) who managed to make you forget that Tony hadn’t addressed the whole thing since you had opened that door the day after, which upset you even more that he wasn’t even trying to make the effort of listening to you. You preferred Pepper’s approach to the whole thing, considering she was basically your mother: Pepper said what she thought and she wasn’t afraid, she was direct and after telling you what was on her mind, she would still listen. She had told you off and you knew that every piece of a word that came out of her mouth was the truth: “You could’ve killed more people” “You could’ve gotten Peter’s identity revealed” “You could’ve been kidnapped” “You could’ve died” “Can you imagine if Kingpin was there?” “Is this really how we raised you?” “I know Morgan’s only one and a half but can you think of the example you are giving to your little sister?” But after it, she had taken the time on hearing your reasons and what you had discovered. She knew how serious it was and how upset you were, so she ended up telling her assistant to cancel all the dates and decided to spend the rest of the day with you and Morgan watching old Disney movies to make you feel better as you ate popcorn and laughed when Morgan bopped her head to the music.

Nonetheless, the only thing Peter and you had left out of the whole thing was that Black Cat had been somehow involved in it. Instead, you had decided to fabricate a story that you got a lead from your deep research and was simply trying to know more information, finally intimidating one of The Architects minions into telling you everything. Peter hadn’t been so sure about why you wanted to keep Felicia a secret since she had agreed to help you but you had begged him to stay silent, telling him that they wouldn’t trust the information given at first. You had to be sure that they would be ready to fight Kingpin before revealing Felicia’s secret and that she was counting on you.

Peter still was apprehensive about the whole thing, but the way your eyes had turned into puppy eyes when you pleaded him not to tell anything, he was bought. You were thankful that he was sticking with you and especially in the meeting that The Avengers had decided to do a few days after the whole thing, on the early morning in Stark Tower.

“He’s coming for us and he’s not going to stop!” you stated again, glaring at Nick Fury who had been insensately criticizing your behavior.

“Oh, and did you get all this information in that little unauthorized raid you did?” Tony asked curiously as he placed his hand on his clenched jaw. It wasn’t as if he was completely upset, he seemed emotionally exhausted to you with the pinch of annoyance in his voice.

“We were following a lead”, Peter stated as he intervened for you, which you felt extremely grateful for.

“And if it’s serious then we can all be in danger,” you continued as you gave him a thankful gaze. “He’s messing with alien tech and we all know how dangerous that can be”

Steve and Nat gazed at each other while Bruce shuddered at the memories of the Battle of New York, knowing it wasn’t one of his best memories. Tony looked down as if he was trying to avoid the fact that you were right along with the other’s present who’s silence meant, at least for you, that they knew what you were talking about and how serious this could become. But Fury didn’t back down as he glared at you with his only eye.

“Kingpin is not going to do anything unless we keep bothering him”, Fury stated, as he quickly removed the photos projected on the screen of the attack and Kingpin.

It was done for him, he had simply removed the photos and files from the screen, he had stated that the deal was done and it seemed like he would completely ignore your pleas. You turn to Peter, who was giving you the exact despondent expression that was drawn on your face, disbelief was dripping from your eyes as you realized the fact that no matter what you said, there was nothing you could do.

The pangs of annoyance began to grow on your body as you frown while watching Fury play with the screen and get out the other files that needed to be discussed, completely turning the page.

“But Dad-” you started but soon Steve cut you off.

“Look, y/n we are going today to Europe and although this mission doesn’t last a long time, we have to focus on it,” Steve said sternly as he gazed back at you. “More people need us there”

“Hammer’s protected and so is Oscorp, Black Cat hasn’t shown up anymore,” Nat said as if to calm you down, not knowing that Felicia’s safety now laid on your hands.

“Because they are going to be manipulated by Frisk!”, you replied urgently, it almost sounded like a cry.

But Fury cut you off before you could get a word out, which only made your annoyance grow as you glowered at them.

“No more Kingpin Drama, Stark”, Fury intervened for one last time.

“It’s an order soldier”, Steve spoke as he crossed his arms across his chest.

But you weren’t done, if the people who were in charge and had become your family wouldn’t listen to you, you would use your dad. You knew how touched Tony felt about weapons being traded, you knew that he understood the importance of stopping Kingpin because these guns and drugs could affect everyone in the world, not just New York. Although Tony had decided to avoid the topic completely, you knew that if you could at least touch a string on Tony’s conscience you could at least change a bit the outcome of this.

“Dad, please” you pleaded as you watched Tony intently. “You know that we have to stop Kingpin”

Tony sighed, folding his arms as he stood up from his seat. “Darling, we can’t right now”

“But Dad, he’s a threat-”

“I know,” Tony tried to assure you while he placed his arms on your shoulders and stroked your arms as if to comfort you. “But not right now”

You were sure that if you had felt stronger that day if you hadn’t been so mentally exhausted regarding what had happened and how it had been portrayed to the world if you had felt a little bit more support or understanding on why you went to the club that night; then you were sure that the disappointment trickling onto your already anxious mind, wouldn’t have been so obvious.

“I can’t believe you just put me in this position and hope for me to do nothing” you snapped at your father while you glared at Steve and Fury, quickly shaking off Tony’s arms and storming out of the conference room.

In the room, everyone remained silent, even Fury who had been a little bit stunned by the anger that had been dripping from your eyes before you left. Tony gave a loud sigh as he slumped back into his seat while rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hand, while Nat patted him on the shoulder slightly as if trying to calm him down about the whole thing. Every one of the Avengers seated around the table seemed a little bit surprised by the whole deal staring at each other but quickly paying attention as Fury started to discuss the mission that the majority of them were going to and how the others would help from here.

Except for Peter.

Peter was livid because he knew that you were right and the threat that Kingpin posed to you, to all of you and the people that they had sworn to protect. You hadn’t noticed it at the club that day but before you had flown out of the club, Peter had his spidey senses going off, already warning him that Kingpin had arrived. He wasn’t sure how to describe it, except a feeling of dread on his whole body. He hadn’t been scared of many things but the danger that Kingpin posed just by being near, was enough for sending shivers down Peter’s spine, causing Peter’s whole body to ache.

And now, for them (especially Fury) to simply dismiss both of you like that? Especially you who had been pouring all your time and energy into making this mission work, even overcoming your feelings towards Peter on this. If this had been before, Peter might have thought that you would leave it like that, that you wouldn’t do anything to go against what your commander had said. But as he glared at everyone intently, he knew you were probably already thinking in a way you could work this out and he knew that at the moment, he only wanted to be with you.

Peter gazed at your dad quickly, Tony looking back at him with an already knowing look.

“Go” Tony muttered as he slumped more on his chair.

Peter nodded as he went after you but before he could exit the conference room, he heard Fury clearing his throat. Peter rolled his eyes before he turned to see what else did he had to say.

“Parker, nothing more about this, clear?”

Peter remained silent, for a second, knowing that there was no way you or he would back out of this.

“Yes, sir” Peter lied with a nod as he turned around and chased after you.

Peter ran through the floor, passing employees quickly already knowing where to go to find you. Most of the people would think that after a bad discussion or a hard day, they would go to their room and lay in their beds or watch Netflix in the meanwhile. But when you were upset, you would stress invent. Usually diving even more into the work that you already had, trying to improve your suit or even Peter’s or your dad’s, anything could work to keep your mind off what was bothering you. It wasn’t a good coping mechanism, sometimes it would include nights without sleep, messing up your schedule and making you sleep all through the day, barely consuming any food, or interacting with more people. Therefore, Peter had developed his mechanism for when you were upset: hold you. He would usually look down when he got closer to you, his hand would slither behind your back or on your thigh, holding it tightly as you gazed back at him with a thankful look on your eyes.

Peter heard you immediately as the doors of the elevator opened into the lab floor, he passed his lab and walked to yours in a hurry. The glass around your lab had been misted over, so no one could see you there which was usual for you but he knew that it was darker than usual. The panel near the door beeped red but Peter didn’t care as he heard HAPPY telling him that you had asked him to deny guests into your lab at the time; instead, Peter simply quickly tapped the password that he knew by heart as the doors unlatched.

“Hey”

You absent-mindedly raised your head from your suit, quickly taking off the goggles that you were wearing and placing down the small tool you had in your hand. Peter couldn’t help to shudder at the memories that came flashing before him as he watched you tinkering away with a piece of a toolkit that was thrown open on the floor as different holograms surrounded you.

You had been tinkering on your suit and bopping your head to the music whilst Peter had placed soft kisses on your cheek as he served you more wine that you had stole earlier that night. You had giggled and stopped working for a second as you felt tingles from Peter’s butterfly kisses, Peter knew he had drunk a bit more than what he usually did and that was why he was being so forward. Then the clinking sounds of metal tools falling into the floor along with breathy moans were the only thing being heard.

“Hey”, you responded quietly as you watched Peter slowly.

Peter gave an apprehensive step but as he noticed your tired eyes, he knew that you weren’t even thinking that he had dismissed the order you had gave to HAPPY about letting people inside of your lab. So, he quickly walked towards you as your eyes were still glued to him, Peter shot a web towards a chair close by and he brought it towards himself, he sat down next to you as his eyes linked with yours slowly.

“Did I fuck this up?”

Your voice seemed so small that Peter almost felt like crying, your eyes seemed a bit tired and he could tell that you had spilled some tears before he arrived. This was completely true, you had tried your best to keep it together as you exited the conference room and walked through the hallways full of employees but you had broken down as soon as you reached the floor.

It wasn’t so much that you felt hurt about the whole deal and Fury, but it was more the frustration that you felt.

“You didn’t” Peter stated angrily, as he placed a hand over yours. “Fury never saw this coming and he’s not prepared to handle this, they are too busy with the Hydra nests and they can’t spare more avengers”

You sighed tiredly. “He is so stupid; he doesn’t see that Kingpin is probably the one giving these people their guns”

“I know” Peter stated as he listened to you quietly.

“And he’s just letting him get away!” you declared angrily, without noticing how you were starting to interlace your hand with Peter’s.

“I know” Peter stated once more as he watched how tightly you were holding him now.

“And so is my dad!” you snapped, letting some tools fall from the desk as you shook your head. “He stopped building arms for a reason and he’s now just letting Kingpin trade them as if it’s nothing?” you asked frustrated although Peter knew you didn’t want an answer. “We should’ve gone after him from day one and not Felicia, we could’ve-”

“y/n, we couldn’t have done much” Peter interrupted you as he gazed at you, somehow coyly as he admired you and listened to you carefully but you didn’t notice since you were still going off.

“Now, Felicia’s at risk and I said to her that we could help her” you sighed frustratedly, and before Peter could protest you cut him off. “I know she’s the one that said she could help us but she needs us to stop Kingpin or she might get killed. I feel like we are just leaving her behind”

You weren’t really sure why the guilt, of what seemed to be (at least from an outer point of view learned by the spying techniques that Natasha had taught you) collateral damaged from the mission, eat you up so badly. Felicia had left you at the club with nothing more but a “be careful”, but you still felt deeply sorry that you wouldn’t keep up your promise. You thought that it was simply basic human decency what you were experiencing, but in the back of your mind, you were aware that it went so much deeper than that. Felicia had triggered something inside of you and you didn’t know how to make it stop.

“I know, I feel bad for her too” Peter whispered as he stared back at you while you looked away for a second, your mind going miles per hour as thought about your next step: would you leave it like that? No, you knew that you couldn’t.

“You know I can’t leave it like this, right?” you asked Peter silently, staring back at his chocolate eyes with golden specks.

If this had been before you had left, you would’ve probably stood down and simply do as it was told. But you had seen so much destruction thanks to these weapons in Europe, you had seen first-hand what this could do to people and you realized who you were and this version of you knew that you wouldn’t leave it at that. You knew you were asking for too much at the moment, you knew that what would come next would be dangerous for both of you but you also knew that there wasn’t any other way for you.

Peter nodded but he decided to still warn you. “Fury’s not going to like it”

“I know what Fury said Peter, but you as well as I know that Kingpin isn’t going to stop” you explained quickly as your gaze burned him. “If he keeps selling these weapons and we are not there to protect the people, then what the hell are we doing here?”

Peter remained silent, knowing that you were right. It was a big thing, going against what was seemingly the right thing to do. You both knew it was going to be a bold move, you both knew the risks that it entailed and you knew that if you weren’t going to be more careful about everything then it could end badly, not just for you but for everyone. But Peter knew you weren’t backing out of this and there was no way in his mind that he would leave you alone in this, without protection.

“He’s trying to kill us so he can grow his empire, even more, you are aware of that?” Peter reason, still trying to give you all the points that he believed were important to discuss.

You nodded. “Peter he is not afraid, which makes it a bigger threat, I have to stop him” you replied as you watched Peter’s lowered eyebrows as he frowned, you knew he was thinking all the scenarios on his head before he finally agreed to anything.

“I hate going behind your father’s back” Peter finally said with a sigh as he leaned a bit back in his chair.

You felt like you could breathe now that he had agreed with you, you weren’t alone anymore.

“I know you do” you cooed as you leaned into him with a smirk.

Peter groaned as he simply gazed at you with his lips tugging into a smile as he watched watching him coyly, he could see it on your y/e/c eyes, that spark that he hadn’t seen in a long time: bliss happiness that Peter was with you on this.

“You know you want to do this with me”, you said playfully as you nudge him on the shoulder, getting closer.

“I wouldn’t do it for anyone else” he answered honestly with a genuine smile as he pulled your hand, which you were still holding tightly, and placed a light kiss on it.

You felt the slight warmth on your cheeks as you noticed how tight was your hold on him, not that it bothered either one of you.

Peter got a bit closer to you, he felt his heart fluttering on his chest while he watched you intently. He took a strand of hair you had on your forehead and pulled it to the back of your ear, his hand still lingering on your cheek as he heard your heart thumping on your chest faster as each second passed but he tried to not look as if he heard it. Peter instead focused on your features, he didn’t know how you managed to do it, to shine so brightly for him without even making an effort, he could feel the warmth on your smile as your gaze followed his as he tried to scan your face.

He hadn’t managed to be so close to you since that last night before you left and he wanted to engrave your face in his memory again, he wanted to upgrade it. He noticed you had a new small scar from your time in Europe, just below your right eyebrow, he noticed how your cheekbones had become more prominent as he fought the urge to kiss your cheek again, he noticed how good you looked with the undertones of purple under your eyes, he was surprised because he hadn’t paid them much attention before but he realized how good they look on you.

Then his eyes fluttered to your lips for a second.

You felt like you had stopped breathing when Peter’s chocolate eyes traveled for a second to your lips, you felt so stupid when you had automatically leaned it a bit after his eyes had returned to yours, those goddamn chocolate eyes with golden specks that combined so well with the chocolate curls that fell on his forehead and the freckles sprawled on his face.

Peter was about to say something, his mouth opening slightly when you heard your door opening and the two of you whipped your head towards the door as you backed away from Peter almost instantly, causing Peter to tumble on his chair, barely falling from it as Harley sneak his head into your lab, noticing the two of you before smirking.

“Everything okay around here?” Harley said with a knowing grin as he looked at the two of you.

Peter rolled his eyes at Harley’s presence while you glared at him, he knew exactly what he was doing. But before Harley could say another word, Peter simply shot a web to the door a slammed it shot, barely closing it on Harley’s fingers who was snickering as he realized what Peter would do.

“Keep it close, HAPPY” you said to your AI as you turned around towards Peter again who was blushing as he cleared his throat while standing up from the chair.

“I need to go to class but I can come by tonight, oh n-” Peter stumbled through his words while you were still watching him carefully from your place.

“What?”

Peter groaned as he took out his phone. “Ned’s visiting”

“Really?” you gushed.

It had been a long time since you had seen any of Peter’s friends, no one since that night at Flash’s parties and you would be lying if you said that you didn’t miss them. Of course, that you were extremely close, you had tried to catch up with them after you had left, random text messages each time you could send one but nothing more than that. So, when Peter mentioned the possibility of seeing them again, it caused you to instantly smile.

“Yeah, he’s here for the weekend so we were planning on doing something with MJ” Peter answered with a smile as he saw how you beamed.

“Well, why don’t you come here?” you suggested with a smile.

“Are you sure? I mean, we can reschedule or I could come later” Peter stuttered as he watched you nervously.

You didn’t have to be a genius to know it was because Peter was planning on spending that time with Gwen too. You felt a pang of jealousy growing on your chest but you quickly shook it off, reminding yourself that you had decided to be beyond that because of Peter’s apologies, that even if he had said it while you were on a rush, Peter had been truthful about everything and simply because you wouldn’t hate on a girl for being chosen over you.

“You know we left things as friends so I have no problem if Gwen comes” you finally muttered shyly as Peter’s eyes widened in surprise.

Peter swallowed hard, he was glad that you didn’t have a problem with Gwen and that you were being so mature as actually inviting her to your own home. But the thing was that Gwen would probably have a problem with him hanging out with you, again.

Especially since it wasn’t Spiderman related.

“Oh, okay…” was Peter’s only answer as you stood up from where your suit was towards your desk.

“Yeah, come and then we’ll stay up later researching more stuff” you suggested as Peter walked behind you completely stunned by your offer.

But he simply couldn’t and wouldn’t say no.

“Yeah, thank you” he stammered as he watched you while you sat on your desk, already typing furiously on it. Around eight?”

“Sounds right”

“I’ll text you” he replied before the doors of the lab opened.

“And I’ll answer!” you promised before you heard the doors closing and you smiled at the thought of what had happened.

As soon as Peter got out, you got to work. You decided to review the footage of what you had captured on the club, the only bad thing that you realized is that none of the guys at the club weren’t wearing alien technology. You hadn’t detected any actual surge of the energy type that these weapons would usually have, which was disappointing but you decided to analyze and go over the other pieces of information you had while periodically you started mending your suit.

You guessed since there wasn’t any solid plan to stop Frisk right now, you would start with the basics which some of them you already had. If you wanted to push the rest of the Avengers into this or even start any strong case against Kingpin, you had to collect all the information you possibly could need from the trading of the weapons he already had to the possible negotiations he was doing with Hammer or Oscorp. You spent hours hacking all the security systems of Frisk’s legitimate companies to check if they had any important transaction at the moment, after spending only minutes on Hammer’s information and noticing that a big payment had been made.

It was infuriating how stupid he had been, he didn’t even care to hide his trace.

Then, you decided to spend time working on the possible places where the alien technology, weapons, and drugs were being exchanged or store, knowing that New York was the center of operations, there had to be somewhere where they were hiding this. This type of thing had an incredible surge of energy and it was probably really kept-well-hidden for it not to explode or cause anything slightly suspicious. But there wasn’t more, there were a couple of warehouses that you had pinpoint and needed to take a look at but you were suddenly interrupted.

Your phone rang a couple of times, you didn’t think much about it as you turned it around.

It was a private number.

“Who’s this?”

“I’m so sad that you don’t remember me” Felicia’s silvery voice sent shivers down your spine.

Felicia had been MIA since the disaster at the club, her last words being “be careful” had indeed upset you seeing that she was the one that had brought you to the club. But as 24 hours had passed, you started to feel somehow concerned for her, you had even hacked the number and revealed the real one from where she had sent you the instructions, but you soon realized it must’ve been a burner phone since there wasn’t any real answer. After that, you tried to push it into the back of your mind, focusing on your father ignoring you and the Avengers scolding you but still, there was still lingering anxiety regarding Felicia’s state.

“Felicia?”

“Come hang out with me,” she cooed, you felt as if you could hear the coy smile that was so characteristic of her. “I know you aren’t going to college yet and it’s so boring to stay in that cold tower all day long”

You weren’t exactly sure when your mouth had decided to talk before your brain had even time to process the proposal that Felicia was suggesting, but you were already nodding.

“Where should we meet?” you asked, no hesitation in your voice.

“I’m down here at Stark Industries lobby”

You felt a shiver of panic running through your body, you weren’t sure why she had gotten so close to a place she could be recognized by someone, although her characteristic eyes were well hidden behind the mask and she was in no database, you still felt like her hair was really noticeable. You felt afraid that if she was capture by any security camera or eyed by a security guard (who had been on high alert thanks to Happy’s precautions), she might get in trouble.

But Felicia detected the panic in your silence right away and she had it covered.

“Don’t worry, I’m not dressed as Black Cat and I covered my hair” she stated with a smirk, you rolled your eyes at her comment with a smile plastered on your face. After a beat of silence, where you could only hear the people that were walking near her in the lobby and she could only listen to the French music that had been lowered down as you received the call, she spoke. “So, are you coming?”

You felt your heart thumping on your chest because you knew this was probably the last thing you should be doing at the moment, but you still felt compelled to tell Felicia that you would follow her and you didn’t care where. You just needed a good cover before you could leave.

“I’ll be right down, give me ten.” You stated before quickly hanging up.

You stood from your chair as you tried to look at yourself on the camera of your phone, checking if you were actually decent since you realized you had been hours on your lab without really fixing yourself after the meeting. You cursed realizing that you had to at least put on some mascara and blush before you went to meet with her but you cursed as you realized that you still had to sneak out.

“HAPPY” you stated as you began to create a code for a new folder with all the files regarding Kingpin. “Place all of the files on this folder, this is restricted information for anyone but Peter and me, got it?”

“Yes, Miss Stark” the AI answered as all of the holograms began to disappeared from the room.

You then ran towards your suit, which was still a bit damaged by the last encounter but would still work if needed. You placed a hand over it and then tapped the charm on your necklace, soon all the nanobots began to travel from your hand to your arm and towards your chest where they would be stored, the arc reactor shining for a second after it was done.

“HAPPY, where’s my dad?” you asked the AI as you grabbed your phone and began to open the door slightly.

“He’s on his lab Miss Stark, he is busy”

You nodded quietly as you turned your gaze to Tony’s lab, hearing Aerosmith blasting on the speakers as he seemed to be working freely on his suit, goggles on, and everything. Although your dad had taken a few years of rest, as he watched Morgan grow up and spent more time with her, he still couldn’t stop making suits or working on different things. Thankfully he seemed way too focus, on whatever he was doing to his suit at the moment that he didn’t see how you quietly ran to Harley’s lab, sneaking in before Tony finished with one piece of his suit, you rapidly close the doors as Harley, who seemed to be working on a repulsors device that Tony had been interesting on researching in depth because of its energy.

Harley quickly stopped as he realized that you were there, he turned around expectantly.

“Can you cover for me?” you quickly asked him as you leaned against the door, praying that Tony didn’t see you.

Harley smirked. “Who are you going to see? Spiderling already left and it’s studying”

You widened your eyes as you tried to brush off the question. “Oh, no one”

“You know you can tell me” Harley continued as he leaned more on his chair as he watched you fidgeting with your phone.

You knew that Harley knew something, that shit-eating grin that was drawn on his face wasn’t something out of the blue. Although you didn’t care to admit it, Harley also knew you very well after years of spending time together, he knew how to generally read someone extremely well and nothing that he did was a casualty, he was very calculating and he knew how people could react.

“I’m going out with a friend” you whispered, trying to sound as uninterested as you possibly could but you catch the mischievous gleam on Harley’s eyes.

“Friend as in girlfriend or boyfriend?” He asked as he wiggled his eyebrows coquettishly.

You shot him an annoyed look right away. “Does it matter to you?”

“No” he shrugged indifferently.

“Good” you stated as you cleared your throat, hoping that he wouldn’t notice how warm your cheeks had become or how you had been fidgeting a bit. “Thanks, asshole”

You quickly exited the lab floor; relief washed over you as you managed to sneak out without Tony noticing you and rushed to your room. You quickly picked up a bag and tried to put on a little bit of make-up, at least anything so you could look better than what you were looking for before. Thankfully, Pepper wasn’t at the apartment at the moment and Morgan was up in her room with a nanny. You didn’t run into anyone on your way down to the lobby, quickly running through it, your eyes scanning the crowded room of people (since Tony had decided it was a public space as well) to find Felicia.

It didn’t take long for you to spot her near one of the main entrances.

Her outfit was a far cry from the clothes that she had worn in your previous encounters. She was wearing an oversize high-waisted jean with chunky tennis, along with a nice black sports bra that fitted her nicely but was covered with an oversize black hoodie and a beanie, hiding the great majority of her silver hair except for a few strands that framed her face. Her greyish-purple eyes gleamed as she saw you walking towards her with a malicious smile.

“That was fast” she teased as her eyes seemed linked with yours, but you looked away nervously.

“Nice outfit” you blurted out, ashamed by the random comment.

Felicia gazed down at yours, scanning your body. You were wearing an oversize dark blue sweater over a white blouse, the collar popping out from the sweater, accompanied by a white short tennis skirt and some tennis that you had clean up recently. You knew you looked okay, it was a cute outfit but you felt like maybe it was too pristine for her taste.

“Yours too”, she said with a knowing smirk, although it was completely obvious that your outfits were completely different, then she saw you putting on a dark blue mask over your face. “What’s that for?”

You stopped as you look around, already noticing some people staring at you a little bit more than usual. It was a normal thing, for you to get attentive looks when you walked on the streets, therefore you had gotten used to hiding your face if you were going out. It was a common thing you did when you hanged out with Peter and his friends in public places if there were too many people close by, it had become even a normal habit when you were in your mission.

“You don’t want people recognizing us, right?” you asked before quickly placing the mask on your face and taking her hand to exit the lobby, to lose some of the people who had been staring at both of you before they got their phones out.

She smirked as she followed your path on the street. “You have it all figured out, don’t you?”

“Actually, I don’t because I have no idea why you called me” you turned on your heels watching her intently, you didn’t want her to notice that you felt a bit upset that she had left you behind the other night.

Felicia stayed silent for a few seconds; a bit stunned by how forward your comment was.

“Well,”, she cleared her throat. “Since we are going to be working together, I figured we could get to know each other, and… what better way than to hang out” she purred as a hand caressed your arm with twinkly eyes, without addressing what had happened days prior.

You felt goosebumps appearing on your skin, your breathing becoming not all together light as you watched her intently. You knew that probably if Tony or Peter or Steve or honestly, any of the other Avengers saw you doing what you were doing, talking with Black Cat -an enemy- in such a manner, you would’ve probably gotten your suit taken away.

But no one was watching you, no one was judging you and you felt like you could be you, this was your choice.

“Where are we going?”

Felicia didn’t answer right away, instead, she decided to grab your hand and make you run beside her to the nearest metro station, she paid for your ride and you got into the train that she had ordered you to get in, running before the doors close on you. She told you that it was going to be a surprise, you weren’t sure if your heart raced in excitement or suspicion, which even grew when you ended up taking more than one train.

But it was nothing that you expected it.

You had visited Coney Island a couple of times before, mainly with Tony and Pepper and another time with Peter and his friends. It was a place with fun memories but that seemed so far away that you hadn’t thought about it in a long time. The fast times, the bright lights, the arcade rings, the laughs; it seemed so distant as you walked through the place.

“You don’t seem like the kind of person who likes Coney Island” you commented as you glanced at Felicia who was walking next to you.

She shrugged. “I don’t like it in the summer, but in autumn there aren’t many people, which is the only way I can come”

“I get you” you nodded with a smile as you continue to see what games had been added or what you could do, not that you saw it but she smiled too.

Without any warning, Felicia took a hold of your hand and began to drag you through the whole place as the salty air hit your face, mixed with the giggles and laughs from both of you while you enjoyed the day.

If you could describe Felicia in one word, the only thing that came to mind was fearless. Felicia was herself and she wasn’t afraid to be herself, which was something that you wished to be for the longest time. During the day you observed her quietly, noticing little details about her and you felt somehow the similar warmth you had felt with Peter and them. You realized that Felicia laughed loudly, it wasn’t a common thing but when she laughed, she really laughed.

She was also very blunt, she said whatever was on her mind, and sometimes, she didn’t even have a filter; like when one guy had been trying to flirt repeatedly after she had already said she was not interested, as you both bought ice cream to eat in front of the beach. She had finally decided to sing along to the tune of “short dick man”, repeatedly, until the guy had gone away. You had laughed for about five minutes afterward. She had dark humor, which you enjoyed since when you usually made the type of jokes, Pepper or Tony got concerned -given that they were somehow still protective over you-. She was loud, she was angry, she wasn’t shy or embarrassed, she said what was on her mind, she was unapologetically herself and you loved every single moment.

She seemed to be the opposite of whatever you were supposed to be, how you had been raised. You were supposed to be quiet; you were supposed to follow the rules, you were supposed to do whatever people told you, you were supposed to help people and be a good hero, a good girl.

And Felicia wasn’t, but you loved it.

The afternoon continued perfectly, you walked through the boardwalk as you ate your ice cream while she told you stories, although you had to wait until you were far away enough from people to actually start eating your ice cream; you even share a bit with Felicia since she had already eaten hers. You had also managed to play in the different games of the arcade, both of you knowing you would ask for the biggest price as your aim was perfect, both winning the biggest and fluffiest toys that you had seen, but you quickly gave it to a few kids that were in awe as they saw you walking with them. You had managed to sneak into a circus sideshow which had a contortionist, a man who swallowed swords, and a fire eater, you had squirmed on your seat for the contortionist; even more when Felicia had whispered in your ear that she could probably do the same thing. Then, you spent some of the last hours of the afternoon watching carefully the collection of free-standing murals, even taking a few pictures in front of the graffiti of mermaids, amusement park rides, and more.

But although it all had been fun and laughs for a while, when the sun was setting down Felicia and you managed to seat in one of the benches farther away from the rest of the people. You weren’t really sure what compelled her to tell you everything that she had told you, or what had compelled you to ask if she had anyone else in her life, but you immediately felt your heart clenching on your chest as she told you really about her. Felicia’s mom was a no-show, she didn’t even remember her and had been raised only by her father who had died a couple of years ago of bad stomach cancer, which had been painful to watch. He had been the one who had taught her everything, he was the one that had encouraged her to never settle for second best and always succeed in whatever she wanted.

After her father’s death, she had enrolled in NYU which had ended up being one of the worst ideas of her life. She had been assaulted by someone that was supposed to be her friend, but she hated her idea of becoming a victim, something that she didn’t think of herself as, she never wanted to see herself like that; she had managed to get her revenge at the end but after that, she decided to drop out and continue on the path that she was now in. So, after that she hadn’t found anyone, she had acquaintances and she would go out from time to time with people from the different jobs she had, but no one really close. The only one who knew her secret identity had been the bartender that you had seen at the club, who had been a friend of her late father, who had promised her father that he would take care of her.

But regardless, it seemed like she was alone.

You knew that alone wasn’t the same as lonely, and although Felicia never said that she was, you couldn’t help to avoid that she was indeed feeling lonely. You knew being in the job, either as a hero or as a criminal was hard because not many people were in the same business. You had been lucky enough to grow in a family of superheroes and then you had been lucky enough to find Peter but Felicia, she didn’t have people. She liked that mostly she was known as Black Cat, you could tell by how her eyes glowed each time she told you about her times and adventures as this persona, but you weren’t sure why she didn’t feel the same as when she was just Felicia.

“I like that about you, Stark” she had finally sighed as she glanced at you slightly. “You are just you; you are y/n Stark. No secret identity, no hiding”

You shrugged. “Well, that’s not true,” you said pointing at the mask.

Felicia’s grin turned catlike. “Touché”

The air turned lighter than what it had been before as you heard the waves hitting the sand while the moon lightened up along with the bright lights of Coney Island. You glanced at Felicia and realized how the moon always seemed to fit perfectly with her, the way it brightened up her plump lips and for some reason, it made her eyes look more purple than before, while the silver hair combined perfectly with the light. It seemed as if she was transforming to Black Cat herself only with the light of it.

But you could still see some of the heaviness on her eyes, the conversation you had must’ve taken an emotional toll on her and you felt your stomach twisting as you thought about how she must’ve been thinking now about her father.

“Come,” you said standing up in the blink of an eye.

Felicia frowned with a smile. “What are you doing, Stark”

“Come Hardy” you repeated as you offered your hand.

You pulled her into the games once again, more people were arriving now with thicker sweaters and coats as the night turned a bit colder than before. You ran through the places and quickly stopped on the ice cream stand, now only taken one ice cream for Felicia, the one she had eaten with you, and immediately pulled her towards the bright Ferris Wheel. You quickly took your seat as you sat Felicia first and then place the ice cream on her hands and then you adjusted the seat for both of you.

As the wheel began to move, Felicia seemed a bit stunned by the whole ordeal but you could see a smile tugging on the corners of her lips.

“You look good when you smile,” you said quietly, your voice almost dropping down to a whisper as you reached the top of the Ferris Wheel and it stopped moving.

“Well, it was a good day”, she replied with a nudge to your shoulder, watching you playfully.

You glanced at her, her eyes beaming. “It was”

“And we haven’t even got to work”

You felt your shoulders tense up and you knew that your smile had vanished from your face as soon as Felicia had mentioned work. You had completely forgotten to tell her what had happened that very same day, you cursed yourself and how distracted you had been during the whole day. You stammered but Felicia had already caught up with how tense you were.

“What happened?” she asked seriously.

You took a sharp intake of breath, as your mind was grinding, thinking what was the best way to tell Felicia that there was no Avengers other than you and Peter coming to help you. That after telling you everything that she had told you that day, you would disappointment. You turned around quickly facing away as the urge to vomit grew in a second before you managed to calm down quickly.

“Look,” you said as you breathed heavily. “We were dismissed from the mission and now-”

“What? Why?” Felicia asked as she touched your shoulder hastily.

You could sense the urgency in her voice.

“Fury and the others don’t think that Kingpin is an immediate threat and they are going to a mission in Europe today. They don’t want to focus on this”

“He is! Did you tell him everything?” Felicia continued.

“I did!” you answered with the same urgency. “Fury doesn’t care, he doesn’t want to get involve and neither did my father. They don’t listen and I’m tired of it, I’m tired of being only good to follow orders and remain quiet. It’s like I have to prove myself all the time to them, especially dad” you sniffled and only then you realized you were on the verge of tears. “I’m so sorry, I know it’s not what I had in mind either but I can promise you that I will protect you, Peter and I will protect you from Kingpin”

Felicia stayed silent for a moment; you were sure that your eyes were burning holes on her face as you watched how her mind was working it out. You felt like you stop breathing as she figured out her next step, you knew that you would keep your promise but you were terrified it wouldn’t be good enough for Felicia to accept it and simply leave you. The thing was that you didn’t know why you were terrified, was it because she would keep working with Kingpin and the advantage you had for the mission would be gone? Or was it because you cared about the girl in front of you with greyish-purple eyes and silver hair who made your heart skip a beat when she gave you a cat-like smile that she had.

“I trust you,” was what she finally said as she gazed back at you with a slight frown. “If you tell me that you and Spidey can do this, then I’ll help you”

You took a deep breath of relief as you stared at her. “That means a lot”

She shrugged with a smile. “You are special, Stark”

You were a little taken aback by the words of Felicia. Through the dim lights at the top of the Ferris Wheel, you could see a bit of trepidation and heaviness in the forefront, but you also saw warmth in her gaze and something much more intense and much deeper. You would like to say that you recognized it, knowing that you were somehow reciprocating since you two had met. You felt your body burning in anticipation but before you could say anything, you felt your phone vibrating on your back.

You were taken aback by the name that lightened up the screen, along with a goofy photo of Peter from years ago.

“Hello?” you answered as Felicia looked away for a bit while you mouthed sorry.

“Hey, we just finished watching Star Wars and I think we are ready to go now, I’m sorry we are late. So, we are on our way, just giving you a heads up” Peter said contentedly as you heard MJ and Ned laughing in the back.

You involuntarily slap your face with your hand, groaning as Felicia jumped alarm by how hard you had slapped yourself. You had completely forgotten that Peter, MJ, Ned, and Gwen were coming to your home that night, you hadn’t even been checking the hour, completely silencing HAPPY for the day when you had arrived at Coney Island.

“Fuck, no” you groaned as you watched the time, it was over 8:00 pm and you knew you had messed up. Peter stayed silent at your comment for a second as if he was hoping that you had just said the wrong thing but you quickly continue. “Take all the time you need, I’ll be there in forty minutes, can you guys wait for me?”

“Oh, okay,” Peter said a little bit took aback but you didn’t give him time to say anything else as you hung up quickly.

“I have to go, I’m so sorry”, you muttered as you tried to signal the guy who was handling the Ferris Wheel to bring you down.

Felicia didn’t say anything but she just watched you quietly instead as you sighed relief once the Wheel began to go down again, you liked to imagine it was thanks to how you were screaming at the guy down there. You knew that if Peter arrived there before you did, that meant that he would probably simply take the elevator and run into your that, who knew you didn’t have many friends to hang out with and destroying the cover that you thought Harley would have for you.

Nonetheless, you also knew that wearing your suit to arrive early to the house could present a problem because if you were hanging out with someone you would probably bring them home as well and not simply be flying on your own. Plus, you didn’t want to give anything more to the media being that you weren’t their favorite person at the moment and that they could take even a small flight to criticize you.

It wasn’t until Felicia called your name that you snap out of your thoughts.

“Hey, Stark!” she called you and you spun so fast on your heels that you didn’t realize how close she was to you.

You froze as you felt her silky hands take off the mask that you had been wearing as she leaned in, you felt your breath caught when you felt the lightest touch of her hand on the back of your neck as she pulled you in. Your body was buzzing as her lips ghosted over yours, she pulled you in so close that you were now flush up against her, your eyes linked for a second and your eyes fluttered down to her lips, she decided to close the space.

Felicia’s lips tasted like cotton candy and ice cream.

You felt your whole body was crackling, sparkling with electricity and the burning need to feel closer to her. To have her touch. You weren’t going to lie that you were a bit stunned and it took you a minute to respond but her lips were plush and fervently pressing against yours causing you took a hold of her waist and pulled her even closer, another one of your hands traveling to cup her face while your lips continued to move at the same beat as hers.

You had been thinking about her lips long enough, how plump they were and how pretty they looked. But her lips against yours was a whole other thing. It was like you were breathing the other with the taste of the ice cream in both of your lips. Felicia hummed against your lips and you smiled into it, completely hypnotized by the movement of her soft lips and how you felt your skin burning where she was touching.

A whimper barely escaped your lips but Felicia had already pulled back, getting a good look at you. You opened your eyes and blinked in surprise as you watched Felicia’s plump lips form into a cat-like grin, but neither said anything as she watched you intently and quickly placed your mask on your face again.

“I’ll call you, Stark” she whispered before she let go of you and went her merry way.

You struggled to speak, to form any coherent word and so you let her go in silence. Somehow it felt overwhelming for you, every one of your senses had been locked into the moment and it felt as if everything around you had disappeared as you kissed her. You knew that you had been harboring some kind of feeling for Felicia and it seemed like you had lied yourself enough times to simply push that to the back of your head but as you had kissed her it felt like they had been poured out without any warning, and it seemed stronger than what you had anticipated.

You weren’t sure how you got home, all the way through you had only thought about Felicia’s lips over yours and what did it mean? She had been the one to initiate the kiss, was it a way to say thanks? Was it because she had the same feelings that you had? Was it because she just wanted to mess with you?

It was only when you reached Stark Tower that you snapped out of your thoughts thanks to Ned Leed’s voice.

“y/n!”, Ned gushed as he hugged you from behind without any warning.

Sometimes you weren’t really sure how Ned was always so full of happiness and energy all the time, you had guessed -as you had gotten to know him better- that he simply had a gift for it. He was the sweetest boy and the kindness that he had in his heart always set him apart from everyone else. There was a sparkle in him that resonated with you and you didn't find it weird, or awkward when you began to hang out with Ned without Peter or MJ when you first met. You could easily fall into a conversation with him and keep on going for hours, he had become a light in your life; Sometimes, when Peter had assured you that you were his sunlight, you weren’t really sure since you had guessed it was a term that fitted better with Ned.

“Oh!”, you said with a smile “Ned!”

Peter walked behind him as he talked with MJ, laughing at how Ned had raised you from the floor with his hug. Peter had been ecstatic about your invitation, Ned and MJ had been elated as well but Gwen hadn’t been that elated. Nonetheless, he knew how deeply you cared about his friends and how deeply they cared about you. You had easily become part of the group and Peter was more than happy about it.

“How are you!?” you replied as he let go of you and you placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve missed you so much!”

“MIT is great!” Ned said with this big smile as you giggled a bit. “I was hoping we could see at least one class together next semester! Do you think you will be over there, next semester? Can you make it work?”

You stammered as Ned gazed excitedly at you, you almost felt coaxed to agree with him, by how wide his smile was, knowing that it was a real possibility that you wouldn’t go back to MIT and keep studying in New York, at least in the foreseeable future but before any word escaped your mouth, MJ intervened.

“Ned, let her breath” MJ stated as she walked over to you with a light smile.

“MJ!” you gushed as you gave her a small hug, knowing that she wasn’t into being too touchy.

She hugged you back which you appreciated. “We’ve missed you here in New York.” She stated as she backed out.

“I know, I’ve missed you guys too” you answered sweetly as your eyes fell on Peter.

Sometimes you forgot how your heart would skip a beat when Peter looked at you like that. Peter Parker had a thing and that was when he smiled truly and honestly, his eyes would just wrinkle a bit and his face would just brighten up, it would look as if his freckles were beaming and would combine perfectly with the caramel curls that would often fall on his forehead. You knew that look so well, because it was a recurrent expression he would have around you but you hadn’t been paying attention since you had arrived, you didn’t know if it was because you had been so absent from your thoughts but it was the first time you were seeing it since you had arrived.

“Hey!” Peter said with a smile and you fought the urge of playing with his curls as he placed a small kiss on your cheek.

“Hey!” you answered rapidly, fighting the urge to get flush but then you remembered. “Um- where’s Gwen?”

Peter's eyes widened for a moment as he cleared his throat. “Oh,” he stammered. “She’s coming”

Peter didn’t know if she was coming.

They had been having coffee close by during the afternoon and talking about a physics exam but midway through it, Peter had told her about your invitation. He knew you had done it honestly as a good gesture, an invitation in order to mend whatever was left of your past friendship and he knew that part of it was also hanging out with his current girlfriend. But Gwen disagreed, she had growled that you were trying to win him back and that he was falling right into it, she felt offended just by the fact that you -or well, Peter- had suggested that she should come, knowing that you were once in love with him.

Deeply, Peter understood what Gwen was saying but he also tried to explain to her what was really happening and how important it was for him given that this didn’t involve just him, but his whole life as Spiderman. Gwen told him that she would think about it but he hadn’t heard back from her.

“Good, I’m glad!” you answered while you swallowed hard, biting your lip for a second as you tried to get back on your train of thoughts. Peter noticed how distracted you look. “Please, come in!”

You were glad that the lobby had already closed down by the time you had arrived so you could quickly take off your mask and breathe freely. Knowing that you still needed, given that you were still thinking about Felicia’s lips and now you were thinking about Peter’s eyes.

You entered the apartment quickly, as you tried to lay all of your things down first so you could be more attentive with your guests, given that you had spent the day with Felicia and not preparing for the hangout.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t have anything ready. I was out”

Peter frowned. “With who?” he asked suspiciously but at the same moment, Harley entered the living room with Morgan in his arms.

Harley’s curly dirty blonde hair was being tugged by Morgan’s tiny hands as she giggled loudly. “I didn’t know we were having guests tonight, then I would have gotten Morgan ready”

You smiled at them as you quickly took Morgan from Harley’s arms and the baby gushed. “y/n!” she was already getting so big and was smarter than you had expected, already speaking correctly and forming full sentences.

“Hi baby!” you cooed as you nuzzle your nose against her.

“I almost forgot you had a sister!” Ned said as he started to play with Morgan, reaching out to her as the baby quickly latched onto his fingers while he cooed at her.

“Who could forget someone so pretty?” Harley asked as he gazed directly at MJ, walking away from Morgan, Ned, and you, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

“Hey H,” MJ said with the same confidence that Harley had, as she beamed at him.

MJ and Harley had known each other since you had introduced them one night a couple of years prior at the compound when MJ was having a sleepover with you. Harley had been instantly enamored by the cool aura that MJ dripped and how little did she care for everything that a normal teenager was supposed to care. MJ, on the other hand, loved how smart Harley was, how he always seemed to say the right thing, and obviously, how interesting he was.

Nonetheless, neither had made a move.

“Harley, don’t flirt with my friends” you commented as you held Morgan tightly and shot Harley an annoyed glare.

Harley flushed a bit, the tip of his ears turning pink as he looked at you wide-eyed while MJ laughed at him with a large grin, the underlying tension between them already growing with your comment.

“Didn’t know we have people coming” Pepper appeared from the kitchen with Tony behind, her long hair tied in one of the ponytails she used to wear years prior.

Pepper began to say hi to your friends as Tony leaned on the couch of the large living room, watching you intently.

“Neither did I” Tony commented as he crossed his arms.

You felt your heart racing in your chest. “I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you”

“It’s okay dear” Pepper stated as she gave you a quick peck on your cheek as you said ‘hi’. “I’m just sad that we already ate dinner”

“Oh, don’t worry we are just maybe going to cook something or ordered it in”, you muttered as you kissed Morgan repeatedly on her cheek for a second as Ned made Morgan giggle uncontrollably.

“Where were you today?” Tony asked plainly at you as he raised his eyebrows.

You felt your blood cold as you turned around in panic while watching your father. Tony had a thing for catching people in lies and although you knew it was possible to lie at him, you also knew that if he saw the slightest twitch or inconsistency, he would be able to see right through you.

He was one of the smartest men on earth, for god’s sake.

“Uhm- Harley didn’t say?” you asked as you looked at Harley while raising your eyebrows.

Harley shot you an annoyed look, which you answered immediately with another one.

“He said you were out with a friend regarding the Halloween thing?” Tony said suspiciously, clearly questioning you and you felt the panic rushing through your veins.

“I was with MJ!” you quickly blurted out as your gaze then fell back on MJ.

MJ looked surprised for a second, stunned at your comment but she was quick, she realized that you needed a cover. You raised your eyebrows at her and nudge to say something, anything.

“Yeah, yeah!” MJ stammered as she placed one strand of hair on the back of her ear as she smiled at Tony. “y/n was helping me pick a costume”

Peter cocked his head and wrinkled his nose, knowing that there was no way that MJ was hanging out with you today, she had spent the last few hours with him and Ned. He knew that you were lying and he stared intently at you. You tried to not react at Peter’s gaze lock on you, knowing that you would have to explain later what you were doing, you only hope he gave you enough time to think about an excuse.

“Right…” Tony sassed as he walked towards you. “What costume did MJ pick?”

“Dad, stop”

“What? It’s not like you have many friends! I just want to know” Tony retorted with a shrug.

But you knew exactly what he was doing and you weren’t going to fail.

“Rude” you stated as you glared at your dad. “I have friends and if you really want to know, we went to a lingerie shop because we want to dress as the characters mean girls so if you don’t mind”

Tony’s face turned bright red as he heard you and was already covering his ears, singing a tune -loudly- by the time you finished.

You smirked.

“You were the one who wanted to know,” Pepper said with a shrug as she smiled at Tony who glared at her, you smiled with a shrug as you continue to play with Morgan and gave quickly a wink to MJ who nodded in agreement.

Peter frown at the interaction, knowing that whatever you were hiding seemed to be important.

“Yeah, yeah” he quickly answered as he stepped towards you and kissed you on the forehead, softly whispering. “I’m glad that you are okay, thank you for taking it okay”

You smiled at your dad and quickly hugged him with Morgan on your arm, who joined in the hug. Nonetheless, the pang of guilt invaded you because you knew it wasn’t the truth, you weren’t taking it okay and you were doing everything that you had been ordered not to do.

Soon after the whole thing, Tony took Morgan out of your arms and said goodnight with Pepper as they went to the other floor to sleep. It was already too late for Morgan and honestly, it was late for Tony and Pepper as well, you felt like you could breathe again when they left. Harley decided to go with you, much to Peter’s annoyance and to MJ’s delight. You then decided that you were going to cook some pasta with wine and then maybe watch a movie, the dinner was nice as Peter and you handled the pasta while Ned and Harley began to cook the sauce, MJ was the DJ as she played one of her perfectly curated playlists since she didn’t know or was interested in cooking.

Throughout the night many different topics resurface, old fights and old movie nights, how Flash seemed to have a permanent crush on you and what had happened in the time that you had left. Ned was the one that lead most of the conversation regarding college and throughout the whole night, Harley flirted with MJ, which MJ responded to with coy smiles and blush cheeks. Nonetheless, you couldn’t stop your eyes from falling to Peter who seemed to be getting quieter and quieter as the night progressed, he seemed to be constantly checking his phone and furiously typing messages.

Deep down you knew they were from Gwen when after a while she still hadn’t shown up.

It wasn’t until you were taking some of the plates to the kitchen while MJ and Ned discussed what movie to watch with Harley that you really had a chance to talk to Peter. He followed you onto the kitchen while you place the plates into the sink with a sigh.

“Hey, where were you today?” Peter said as he entered the kitchen and lean into the marble island as you turned towards him.

You froze as you watched Peter’s inquisitive expression, your mind grinding what you were about to tell him.

“I was doing fieldwork”, you lied as you got closer to him. “Nothing extraordinary”

Peter gave you a veiled expression as your gazes linked. “You know you have to tell me this type of things, right?” he finally answered with a sigh.

“Yeah, but I got no information today” you answered, which was true you hadn’t really talked about anything different with Felicia than her life or random things, there was no new information about the mission per se. “I’ll tell you if I find anything. Are you going to patrol tonight? Maybe we can-”

Peter’s phone started ringing, Peter quickly grabbed it from his pocket and read the name on it. He quickly glanced at you with a painful expression. “Sorry, I have to take this”

You didn’t manage to answer, Peter was already walking towards the living room outside of the kitchen. You didn’t know if it would be the wisest thing for you to try to listen to what he was talking about but you knew he was talking with Gwen. You remained in the kitchen, staring at him talking on his phone, not that he really noticed, he was headfirst into the conversation and it seemed rather intense. You had come to learn Peter’s mannerisms when he was mad or when he was mad and discussing with someone, his stentorian stance, how his jaw would clench, how he would roll his eyes when he felt frustrated, how he would talk with his hands if the conversation got heated.

“What are you doing?”

MJ’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts regarding Peter and your gaze from him, you turned around to see her shaking her head with a smile.

“Dishes” you answered as you pointed at the plates on the sink, knowing that there was no way MJ was buying it as she sat on one of the stools near you.

“Apart from spying on Peter” she added as she raised her eyebrow.

You glared at her. “I was not” you whined.

“Yes, you were, it’s okay,” she said with a shrug as she gazed back at Peter.

You sighed and did the same, watching as Peter ran a hand through his caramel curls frustratingly as he seemed to get louder while he kept holding his phone tighter on his ear. It wasn’t good and you couldn’t help the urge of going to where Peter was, threw his phone away and simply hold him, play with his hair and help him fall asleep as you had done so many times before.

“I just,” you said frustrated. “Why wouldn’t she come?”

“She was busy”, MJ said as she took out her phone and showed you Gwen’s Instagram stories.

You could see Gwen being in a group photo of many friends but especially close to one random guy who was holding her by the waist. Then another one of Gwen’s kissing a guy’s jaw, the photo moving from a smile to a kiss on his jaw. The last one was Gwen being held by her waist by the same random guy as he gave a peace sign.

You winced at the thought of how Gwen must’ve been feeling and you felt the pang of guilt again. You knew she was doing that because it was a call for attention to her boyfriend, you would’ve been lying if you said you wouldn’t be that dramatic, knowing your reaction at seeing them kiss a year and a half prior. It was normal, it was a normal thing to do if you were feeling like that and if you didn’t have any other tool on your emotional box to react to that.

But you also felt for Peter knowing that seeing those stories and the possible text couldn’t be anything good for him, he had to be hurt by them.

“They have been struggling a lot” MJ commented, snapping you once again from your thoughts.

“Who?”

“Peter and Gwen, they just… they have been having issues. Especially since he told him about Spiderman” MJ continued as she watched her phone.

You felt your stomach twisting inside because you knew that Peter hadn’t like being Spiderman for so long but had accepted the responsibility he had when he had gained those powers and that now, years after finally accepting them, they were going to be used against him in a relationship? It didn’t seem fair.

“That sucks?” you stated as you glanced at MJ “It’s not like Peter can decide over his powers or responsibility. It’s something greater than him”

“Yeah, but it still sucks that he has to sneak around and then leave you as an afterthought” MJ replied with a shrug.

You knew that it was also true that this work wasn’t easy and that not many people would understand.

“That’s true too,” you said as you stared back at Peter.

“Love isn’t just chemistry, it’s logistic”

You turned around impressed by MJ’s intelligence on the topic, not that you were surprised that MJ was as smart emotionally as she was smart academically. But the thing was that your mind couldn’t help but to go back to the kiss with Felicia and in reality, the whole thing that was going on between both of you. What was the possible logistic behind that friendship or relationship?

Nonetheless, you didn’t want to fester on it and you pushed it into the back of your mind for the moment; quickly changing the topic.

“Hey, so costume party, you?” you asked MJ with a smile, looking at her cheekily.

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I guessed it was time since now I have more friends. My parents are going on a trip and they let me have the apartment for Halloween so I’m excited. Betty and Flash are also coming back for it.”

You smiled widely. “You know my favorite holiday is Halloween”

It was true, Halloween had become your favorite holiday since you could remember. Birthdays weren’t that special for you, you didn’t enjoy the attention you received, even if it came from Tony or Pepper, and since you didn’t have many friends to celebrate it with when you were younger, it didn’t seem important. Christmas wasn’t your favorite either, your mom had passed away during that time and it didn’t bring good memories, they were always nice but nothing more than that, plus Tony had never bought the puppy you wanted so that contributed.

But, but, Halloween was a whole different story for you. You loved that you were able to be someone else each year and it had become a tradition for you to go trick or tricking with the best Halloween costumes ever. Most importantly, Tony would go with you and no one would recognize you since you would always wear a mask, it felt like you could be yourself and not “y/n Stark”, at least for one night of the year. The tradition had continued even when you were older, Tony agreed of going through the streets of New York in different costumes and go to pick up food and candy from any restaurant you wanted, later eating it at home. One of your favorite Halloween’s hand been when you had managed to take all the Avengers to do the same, it had ended up being one of your favorite days as you walked through Time Square with Steve dressed as Ironman, Natasha dressed as Y/N Stark, Bruce dressed as Thor, Thor as Clint, Clint as Bruce, Tony dressed as Spiderman, and you and Peter decided to dress as Black Widow and Captain America.

It was a great Halloween.

“I do know that,” MJ said as she wiggled her eyebrows. “I can’t wait to see what you come as”

“Ugh, I still have to plan it but hey, thank you for inviting me,” you said honestly with a smile.

MJ huffed. “Why wouldn’t I? You are a great friend”

You winced at MJ’s words as you turned around to watch Peter again discussing even louder, he seemed so exhausted and you felt your heart clenching. Yeah, a great friend that doesn’t tell the truth to her best friend, you thought to yourself as you stared at the soft boy.

Soon, MJ and you decided to leave Peter alone for a bit, Ned and Harley had already started the movie and you sat on the couch with a smile as you watched the large screen. Still, you would turn around towards the door, hoping Peter would come and he eventually did but he seemed so drain, if he had sat closer to you, you would have probably start playing with his hair but he sat far away from you and you didn’t want to be over him, guessing he wanted to be alone.

When the movie ended, MJ gave you the details of the party that was going to happen in about two weeks, Harley invited himself before he placed a small kiss on the corner of MJ’s lips and he said goodnight. Ned gushed about how great the night had been with the same excitement he had, regardless that it was already the other day. MJ thanked you for everything and told you to text her, and then Peter said goodbye.

He seemed so tired and upset, but you knew he was trying his best to hide it.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay and work?” Peter stated as you walked them towards the elevator.

You shook your head. “I think we could use the night off”

Peter sighed and you felt the relief on his eyes as he stared at you for a moment. Deep down Peter had listened to you and MJ talking, not the whole thing but just bits and pieces, he knew that you knew, he had also caught you staring at him throughout the movie and he wished he would just go to you and cuddle, but the pangs of guilt and anger wouldn’t let him.

Gwen had said it was his fault, that he had been the one that hadn’t set the boundaries with you and if he wasn’t willing to do it then she would. She made Peter feel remorseful about the invitation, about the fact that he was hanging with you and he hated it, he hated knowing that although he assured Gwen and himself that nothing was happening between the two of you, he deep down knew he still had feelings for you.

“Thank you” he muttered with a smile as you kissed him on the cheek.

Peter felt his cheeks blushing as he said goodbye and entered the elevator with MJ and Ned, gaze still locked on you and yours locked on him.

But as soon as the doors close, you heard your phone vibrating from the kitchen. You walked towards the kitchen to see who it was and you froze at the text.

Felicia Hardy: see you tomorrow, Stark?

You smiled.

***

taglist: @spideylovin @fandomtrash100 @soullessbabee @liljennyx3

***

Can you tell that I wrote the final scene at 1:30 am?? It’s so late but I really wanted to get this out so I can start writing for the next chapter that’s going to be SOOOOO exciting. many of you had already notice he chemistry between felicia and y/n which i’m glad because that’s what i was going for and i hope their kiss made that tension justice. Felicia’s so much more than black cat so i wanted to add her backstory although i changed it a bit and now she got her revenge on her friend. Plus, there are already cracks that are more notable now between Peter and Gwen, that would hopefully be resolved in the next chapter. I’m really excited about this chapter, I poured my soul into showing y/n feelings for both Felicia and Peter. I really hope you like it!!

The new sneek peak for the next chapter is going to be on. the masterlist if you want to see what’s coming next!

please please please let me know your thoughts and opinions on this chapter and if you have ANY theories or comments I would love to see them!!! I’m already so happy with the love you have given to the last chapters, I really hope you like it! any feedback is well received and thank you so much!

135 notes · View notes

sergaku · 3 years

Text

You Were My Nightmare

This is my @mlsecretsanta gift to you @galahadwilder. This is a sort of idea I have had for a while that I haven't seen before be done with other fics. It's a concept that I wish was in the show, but know its not gonna happen. Thanks to @gryffindorcls for the feedback. Was very nervous about this story til she read it.

The only thing Marinette could see was darkness. It was a cold darkness that sent a terrible shiver through her body. She took a step forward, letting out a surprised yelp as the darkness was replaced with a blinding light.

When everything returned to normal she noticed where she stood. She was still in Paris, but not a Paris she was familiar with. She stood atop a skyscraper, it being surrounded by a hazey blue. When moving toward the edge she noticed the blue was water. Everything was flooded, and when she looked to the sky the moon was destroyed, and silence was the only noise she could hear.

"Marinette…." A voice with venom in its tone came from behind her.

She turned around quickly to find Chat Noir standing there, eyes closed as if in a daze. She rushed towards him, only to stop when he opened his eyes. They were an icy blue and showed none of the kindness that normally accompanied them.

"C-chat? What happened to you? To this place?" Marinette asked with a shakey tone.

"Our love did this to the world Marinette."

He began walking towards her, the black of his costume slowly being turned white along with his hair. Marinette just watched in horror as she began backing away. She tried to speak, but no words were coming out her mouth. It was only when she fell on her rear and tried to crawl backwards did she find her voice.

"Plu...ple...please Chat! We….we can fix th-" The cold leather of Chat's left hand connecting to her throat interrupted her.

He stared deep into her eyes, his smile twisting into something wicked. His right hand glowing with the power of destruction.

"You made me into a heartless creature Marinette. It's time I return the favor!"

Chat Blanc yelled out a blood curdling scream as he thrusted his hand into Marinette's heart. The only thing Marinette could do was scream from the intense pain, and finally woke up.

_____________________

Marinette shot out of her bed, screaming loudly as she clutched her chest. When she got a moment to get her bearings she noticed her room, and the dark Paris night sky. She gazed down at her hand tightly grasping at her shirt and let go, letting out a sigh before hearing her door open.

"Marinette, are you ok," her father shouted as his large figure burst into the room.

He held a baseball bat in his hand, reaching up to touch her hand as a way to console/protect her.

"I'm…...I'm fine dad. Just had another nightmare is all" She pat his hand gently and gave her the best smile she could muster. "You can go back to bed."

Without another word from Tom, he left the room. Though he was hesitant to do so.

Marinette got out of her bed, ascending the trap door to her balcony wearing a jacket to fight the chill of the night. She felt the cold sweat on her face trickle down from her forehead as she leaned against the railing.

"Why...why is this happening now?" Marinette asked herself as she clenched her fists. "I thought I was over this….over feeling this way…."

"You can't exactly erase an event like that from your mind Marinette." Tikki chimed in as the Kwami sat on the girl's hand. "Chat Blanc was the most dangerous enemy you had ever fought. More than Hawk Moth."

"Yes, but this was months ago Tikki. I was able to talk with Master Fu about it. He helped me get closure...more or less. But why now?" Marinette felt her legs start to give out, forcing her to retire to the floor and sit against the cool metal bars.

"Maybe...maybe because of New York?"

"What? Why would that cause Chat Blanc to attack my dreams again?"

"Well….he could have 'returned'. Chat Noir was so distraught from failing you that his emotional state was incredibly low. Low enough to a point where if he was Akumatized as his civilian self, he would have most likely been able to turn into him."

"I….yeah. I had that same thought. But, I didn't want that in my head. But this time I have no one to talk to. Master Fu is gone and if I tell Chat about Blanc he might be upset with me." Marinette trailed off at the thought of Chat being mad at her. She kept stuff from him sure, it was part of the whole identity thing. But Blanc? He is a bigger secret than her identity. One wrong move could turn that altered future to reality.

"Then you have to tell him. You can't keep this to yourself anymore. Chat deserves to know now. And it's your job as Guardian that you do everything in your power to make sure nothing bad happens involving the Miraculous."

Tikki looked at her partner, a sense of agitation growing inside her from this situation. Tikki had to endure this for a few days the last time this happened. Now, it's been over a week. And it needed to end before Marinette could do any hero work.

"But what will he think of me? Of himself? It's not just me I am worried about. What if Chat thinks he himself as too dangerous to be around anymore. I am not replacing him with anyone else. No matter what!" The sense of determination in her tone to not replace Chat was the prime example for the love she showed him.

"The only thing that you can do Marinette is trust him. Because you know you can." Tikki gave Marinette a small hug on her cheek before retreating back into the room.

Marinette looked up into the night sky, watching the full moon hover above the world.

_____________________

Adrien had noticed how tired Marinette had been lately. He attributed that to late night studying, but now he wasn't sure. The way she stumbled through classes, her slurred speaking, her odd flirtatious tone, all off it was off. It was cute at first to see another side of her. Now, it was very concerning.

As Adrien walked into the school he noticed Marinette leaning against her locker. She looked like someone smashed a pillow against her face.

"Marinette? Is everything ok?" Adrien asked as he made his way over to her.

"Huh? Oh Adrien. Yeah I'm doing just fine you know. Just fine indeed." Marinette responded with a yawn tackled at the end. "Just...just haven't been getting a lot of sleep lately."

Adrien looked into her eyes, spotting a hint of deceit in them. He placed his hand on her shoulder, which caused the young fashion designer to look up at him with a hint of red on her cheeks.

"Marinette, if something is going on I want you to know that you have people to talk to. Alya and Nino are always there to listen if you have a problem. And…" Adrien spoke softly as he spoke. He felt his face heat up when he thought of the next words to say. "Especially me. I am always an open ear for you."

Marinette gave a small smile as she nodded at the boy. She pressed her head against his shoulder, causing Adrien's entire body to tense at the sudden contact. He felt his heart throb, not knowing what this sensation that was coursing through him.

When he looked down at the girl he couldn't help the smile that plastered his face. 'Had this girl always been this cute.' He relaxed his body some and pat her shoulder gently.

"Thanks for talking to me Adrien. I feel a little better. But….I still got some stuff to think about." She lifted her head up, her cheeks showing a small shade of pink.

"No problem Marinette. I am always glad to help you if I can." Adrien gave her a smile and a nod.

'Now I just need to confront another girl who looks exhausted.' Adrien thought as he made his way to class. Not noticing the Kwami in his breast pocket flying away.

_____________________

Tikki was sitting in Marinette's locker, bundled up with a small pillow and tiny cloth blanket. She was soon joined by her partner Plagg, taking note of the sleeping creature.

"Alright Sugar Cube, I need to know what's going on with her. Why is your bug so….groggy." Plagg asked as he shook her awake.

Tikki stirred a bit as she opened her eyes. She sat up, stretching her tiny arms and letting out a yawn.

"I don't think I should tell you Plagg. Marinette doesn't even want to talk about it fully with me." She answered melancholy.

"Yeah, when have I ever cared about that. Her demeanor is going to affect the dynamic of their teamwork. If she isn't up to snuff then we need someone else."

"...fine. I will tell you everything…."

As Tikki explained the situation Plagg slowly began to break his stoic look. His ear dropped as he sat down in the locker.

"So you know as much as I do. I can only assume that Hawk Moth found out who Adrien is and manipulated him. Used Marinette to...to turn him." Tikki looked up at Plagg, waiting for his reaction to this information.

"Huh. I don't know why she is so worked up over this. It's no big deal." Plagg just shrugged and shook his head.

"Plagg! How could you-"

"Because it's them."

Tikki tilted her head as she gave a confused look. "What? What do you mean?"

"She is planning on telling him tonight right?"

"Yeah?"

"If Adrien is half as smart as me, then he will come to the same conclusion I have." Plagg spoke with a smug look as he gave a toothy smile.

"What do you mean?"

"You will just have to trust me."

_____________________

Ladybug stood on a random rooftop, waiting patiently for her partner to arrive. Another quiet patrol, no Akuma to distract her from her thoughts. The entire time she kept wondering how she was going to tell Chat. Can she bring it up casually? Make it the focal point of a serious discussion?

Ladybug let out a sigh as she rubbed the space between her eyes. She felt the twinge of a headache approach from thinking about this too long. Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt a hand grasp her left shoulder followed by a voice.

"Ladybug?"

On instinct she grabbed the hand with her right, side-stepping in the same direction whilst bringing her left hand in a chopping motion. She had no time to process who the person was before her hand connected to the person's throat, making them let out a gacking noise as they grabbed their throat and fell to their knees. It was then when she realised she just chopped her partner in the throat.

"OHMYGOSHCHATIMSOSORRY!"

She quickly dove to his side, patting his back gently as he let out a few coughs.

"It's….it's fine….*ack* should have ..announced myself." Chat's voice was raspy, doing his best to massage his neck to alleviate the pain.

A few minutes passed and Chat was back to normal. Ladybug just looked at him as he explained his portion of patrol, not being able to focus on his words. When she looked at him she saw flashes of Blanc. His face twisting from his warm smile to that cold scowl.

"Ladybug, something has been bothering you lately. I can see it on your face."

These words broke her from her trance, and she shook her head and waved her hands in dismissal.

"Oh no no. I am fine Chat. Just got distracted." Ladybug clammed up, feeling her whole body stiffen as she stood in front of her partner.

She felt like a coward. She wanted to discuss this with him, but when she looked at him she couldn't. She couldn't bare to see the potential disappointment on his face. Her hands tangled together, rubbing her palms and jittering her fingers in a nervous fidget.

"Ladybug, you can talk to me, you know that right? I am always here to listen to you." Chat gave her a big smile as he placed both hands on her shoulders.

She only felt more tense at this. Her anxiety about the situation rising at a rapid pace. Her breathing became shallow as her world began to crumble.

"Nononono….I…..I'm…..I…."

Ladybug.

"No...I said no…..stop……"

LADYBUG!

She looked up to see Blanc staring at her, his face getting close as his eyes narrowed.

"I said NO!"

She pushed his hands off her shoulders roughly, taking a step back as her fist connected with his jaw. She panted some as she saw her world return to normal, looking up to see Chat Noir standing a few feet back with his head turned. Her eyes went wide as she looked at her fist, feeling her fingers throb from the impact.

"Chat.." She took a step towards him, her voice shaky as she felt tears start to form in her eyes.

Chat took a step back, his head moving to look down at the ground. "I'm sorry Ladybug. I didn't mean to overstep my bounds."

"Chat no it's…" She took another step towards him.

"I can see that you don't want to talk. I will leave you be for the night." He took another step backwards.

He turned around, grabbing his staff and extending it. Ladybug watched his movements and dashed toward him. Just as he jumped she grabbed his tail, bringing him back down as she fell on her stomach. He looked down at her as her face stared down at the floor.

"Don't leave...please….don't go." She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face.

Chat dropped his staff, rushed to her side and wrapped his arms around her. She felt a sense of warmth in his arms, a safe and secure place. She returned the hug, closing her eyes to enjoy this small, peaceful moment.

During their embrace Ladybug explained everything that plagued her mind. The events that transpired from her experience from Blanc, the nightmares it gave her, and how they returned on their return trip to Paris.

Chat looked at her, taking every word in and not interrupting. When she finished she looked up at him, waiting and scared of his reaction.

"I don't see the big deal."

"What! Chat did you not hear anything I said?!"

"I did. And it sounds like that Ladybug and Chat Noir were together after he found out your identity. And I assume the other you knew his. So I don't see how any of what you said could be your fault."

"But….he said that it was our love. He knew who I was. How could it not be my fault? Him knowing my identity that means that he-"

"Was manipulated. Ladybug I love you. The girl under the mask is who I yearn for. I would never do anything to ever harm you. I would rather destroy myself than have to do you any harm. Even if I was controlled by Hawk Moth, he couldn't stop the feelings I have for you. You are much stronger in my heart.

"The only way he could try is if he knew who we were and used that against us. And we know he would. Hawk Moth is very devious like that."

Chat Noir took a deep breath and grabbed both of her hands, kissing them gently and looking into her eyes.

"Ladybug, never keep something like this from me. I may not be able to do much, but I can listen. I can be there for you."

Ladybug looked down, a new set of tears falling down her face at these words. She hugged him tight, feeling a warmth spread through her body as she sobbed. This man, this man right here was someone she could trust entirely. She would be lost without him. And he deserved to know.

"Marinette. You can call me Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

Chat Noir froze as she hugged him and looked at her when she said her name. His arms snaked around her tight, letting out a hearty laugh as tears went down his face.

"I am so glad that it's you Marinette. And I am glad to say my name is Adrien Agreste."

They broke their hug as they dropped their transformations. Both of them looked into each other's eyes with an overwhelming sense of joy.

"Adrien….."

"I love you, Marinette."

"I...love you too, Adrien."

They moved towards each other, both of their eyes closed as their lips connected. It was better than any other kiss they had before. It was better because it was the first of many in this new relationship.

_____________________

Marinette stood back on that building, back to the scene. She turned around, spotting Chat Blanc standing there with a Cataclysm charged. He charged at her, yelling out to her. She just stood there and spread her arms, preparing for the worst. It never came.

Chat Blanc stood there, his hand inches from her and about to destroy her. He looked up at her, anger pouring out his eyes.

"Why aren't you scared!?"

"Because I have no reason to be Adrien."

She placed a hand on his cheek, giving him a warm smile and kissing his lips. Blanc's eyes went wide at this, but slowly closed them. His Cataclysm disappeared and stood tall infront of her. His costume slowly changed from white to black, and then his costume disappeared. Adrien was left there with her and the world returning to normal

_____________________

Tikki looked at Marinette, smiling in her sleep as she grasped the Chat Noir plushie tight against her chest. No screaming, no cold sweat. She was at peace.

"Well, I guess you were right Plagg. I'm excited for the future."

#ml secret santa #ml spoilers #ml fanfic #tw anxeity #miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #healing

114 notes · View notes

walkerwords · 3 years

Text

“The Savior Sessions” Part 28 of 33 - Negan x GN!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: AMC

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: Negan is slowly getting on good terms with the Alpha, the reader is slowly becoming desperate, and Alpha has a plan in motion.

Word Count: 4243

Warning: Swearing

Song I Wrote To: “Little Black Submarines” by The Black Keys

Note: I am trying to finish this before the 28th when TWD returns. Remember, this will not go past the 10B finale. Some of these chapters are getting shorter, but that is mainly because Chapter 30, which is the hilltop battle, will be quite long! ALL OFFICIAL DIALOG IS PROPERTY OF AMC.

-------

"Well, that's...creative,” Negan said as he was looking at the disassembled body that sat at the Southern border. Negan thought the tiki torches were a nice touch even if they were a tad dramatic and that was coming from him.

It was early that morning when Alpha approached him and told him to follow her. Knowing his history with her enemy, she had asked for his counsel on an issue. Considering they hadn’t known each other long, Negan was confused but went along with it anyways. However as soon as he saw what was at the border, he knew what was going on. The other side had finally made their move.

"They are declaring war," Alpha said, tilting her head to the side. Negan noticed that she did that a lot and it made him both uncomfortable and intrigued.

"Isn't that what you did when you put nine of their people on pikes?" Negan asked. Alpha looked at him with a neutral expression. Negan shrugged, the bat on his back shifting on his leather jacket. Alpha had returned his weapon shortly after they had met. She said that if he had even attempted to try to swing it without her permission Beta would gut him within seconds. Negan didn't doubt that. The giant man was even more psychotic than Simon was and that was saying something. Negan was always wishing for a gun whenever Beta was around and he could bet that you were too.

"The archer?" Alpha asked, her voice quiet but still very calm and emotionless. Negan took a few steps towards the dead man and kneeled to look at the body and then up at the decapitated head.

Seeing as there were no penetrating wounds that Daryl’s bow would have caused, Negan didn't think this was his handy work. Also, if it had been Daryl, he probably wouldn’t have taken the head off. Daryl was ruthless when he needed to be, but removing the head like this was too personal and if Negan knew Daryl even a little bit, he would have done something more simple. No, this was someone else.

"No," Negan said, moving the body onto its back. The headless body reminded him too much of Glenn and Abraham, especially with the amount of blood. It was never a good moment when he thought about his victims, especially when he was portraying a persona who was supposed to enjoy the kill rather than shying away from it. Shutting away those memories, Negan examined the other wounds carefully.

Looking at the clean cut at the neck and then the two hits to the chest and eye, Negan realized something. It was a clean kill with a sharp blade. There wasn't any type of torture or prolonging of death. With the depth and width of the strikes, he finally recognized the blade.

Jesus' broadsword. Your sword.

"Dammit," he muttered under his breath.

"Do you know who did this?" Alpha asked. Negan shut his eyes for a second before turning to her with his own neutral expression, not letting her see how affected he was by his discovery.

"Couldn't say for sure, most of those assholes handle blades."

"Shame, he was a good soldier," said Alpha. Negan furrowed his brow.

"He was one of your men?"

"Sent him in to...gain information," she said. "Didn't think he'd be this foolish to be caught."

"Can't all be winners," Negan said, turning his attention back to the body. He had seen a lot of dead bodies since the world ended, but there was something about this one that was bothering him. You were not this...cold. At least not since he had gotten to know you. There was something off about the way you had done this. Anyone else, besides maybe Daryl, wouldn’t have noticed, but he did.

Negan had only seen this deadly side of you a few times and it made him do a double-take every time. The first time had been that first night in the clearing. You were nearly out of it, blood trickling down your collar.

He had just threatened Rick and was laying down the rules when his eyes had fallen on you. Dwight had to keep his hands on you in order for you to stay upright, but you were still hanging on. Your arm was reaching out to Daryl next to you, not quite touching him, but enough for the archer to know you were there.

Your eyes, however, were switching from staring at the ground to staring at him. Negan wasn’t sure if you could actually see him at that point. Throughout his speech, his eyes kept flickering back to you as you fought to stay upright and awake.

When he killed Abraham, your eyes never left Lucille and the blood that dripped off her wooded form. It was only after he had Daryl pinned to the ground and Glenn’s blood was splashed against your face that you locked eyes with him and in those irises, he saw pure fury. It wasn’t long after that first look when you fell over from the head trauma.

However, that one look was enough for him to remember you. The second time he saw that look was when he had brought Carl home from the Sanctuary. You didn’t seem to care about Spencer and while you were pissed about Olivia, nothing bothered you as much as seeing him parading Carl around Alexandria. While he didn’t speak to you, seeing your glare from the top of the Gazebo as he walked in had made him remember your face from the clearing.

It was from then on that he found himself always looking for you when his people met yours. Little did he know that your talents with a rifle had you always watching him rather than the other way around. You were always so precise with your shots so he shouldn’t have been surprised to see how clinical you had been with Dante’s body. However, the idea of you removing his head and doing this made him a bit sick. Though, he didn’t let Alpha see a second of that.

“How are you going to retaliate?” Negan asked.

“I have something in motion,” Alpha simply said.

“Can I get a hint?” Negan asked with a sly grin. Alpha just looked at him with her signature look and Negan raised his hand in surrender. “No worries. Gotta win the boss’ respect, I get it.

“You talk too much,” she observed as she turned away from the border.

“So I’ve been told,” he said, catching up to her. “Force of habit, I’m afraid.”

“Tell me more about these people who held you captive,” Alpha said.

“Not much more to say,” Negan said. “Their old leader is dead and their new ones don’t really know what the hell they’re doing. Got some good fighters, but they don’t have a central person. They don’t have an alpha,” he said.

“Then they have weak spots,” Alpha realized.

“More than one, I bet,” Negan said.

“Have you seen my daughter with them?” she asked and Negan forced himself not to hesitate.

“Lydia, right?” he asked and Alpha nodded once. “She’s around, seems to be alright.” Negan tried to get a line on Alpha’s reaction to hearing about her daughter, but like with everything, the woman remained stoic. He also then noticed some discoloration on her arms. It didn’t take long for him to realize they were the same wounds that adorned Lydia’s arms. Negan fought to keep relaxed as he remembered what Alpha had done to her child. You had told him about the abuse, it was one night when he had been able to spend the night with you…

Months earlier…

The cold air from the winter weather outside seemed to be seeping through the walls as if they were made of paper.

Negan lay next to you in your bed, his arms securely around your waist. He had only woken up a few moments ago and couldn’t help but watch as you slept peacefully next to him. These nights when Michonne and Gabriel found that they still had a heart and would let him spend the night indoors rather than freezing in his cell were his favourite.

Whatever the reason was, he was just happy to be there with you. With a deep breath, you turned towards him, slowly waking up. Your eyes opened just a bit to see him and when you did, a tired smile spread across your face. “Why are you awake?” you whispered.

“Why are you?” he countered, leaning down to kiss your forehead. Being able to kiss you or hold your hand whenever he could, was the greatest gift anyone could have given him. Negan was desperate for your touch and whenever you gave it to him, he relished in it.

Reaching up, you caressed his face as he leaned into your palm. Even with the cold weather, he had stripped off his shirt, using his own body heat to keep you as warm as possible. Dancing your fingers across the tattoos on his chest, he shivered under your touch. Just as he was about to pull you on top of him, a noise broke the tension.

Confused, you both looked at each other before sitting up in bed. A second later and the noise happened again and Negan finally realized where it was coming from. Nudging you, he pointed over the side of the bed. Crawling to the edge, you looked down to see Lydia fast asleep on your floor, a blanket thrown over her as she softly snored.

You and Negan shared a look then that said everything you both were thinking: the teenager was scared. Lydia must have snuck into your bedroom just as you both had fallen asleep. She had been staying in the guest room downstairs, but you now figured that she wasn’t used to sleeping alone.

“Do we wake her?” you asked him. Negan shook his head, grabbing you again and pulling you back into bed. He slid his arms around you and tucked your head under his chin.

“Let her sleep,” he said in your ear. “The girl has been through enough.”

“And yet she feels safe enough to sleep in here? She barely knows me, knows us,” you argued.

“She trusts you,” he said. “She needs you.”

“She needs someone who can protect her from her mother,” you said. “I won’t let Alpha lay another hand on her. She is never going to be hurt by someone she loves again.”

“Her mother is abusive?” Negan asked and you just nodded.

“Shit,” he swore, pressing his nose into the back of your neck.

“I have to protect her, Negan,” you said as you rolled over and lay your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“You will,” he promised. “We will.” Looking up at him, he leaned in and kissed you firmly before tugging the blanket up further onto your shoulders.

“I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you, too,” Negan said. “Forever.”

Negan was pulled out of the memory as he and Alpha arrived back at the Whisperer’s main camp. An ache had opened up in his chest as he thought about you, but he kept it suppressed. He had come too far to mess up now. Especially since Alpha had taken an interest in him.

As Alpha went off to do whatever she did during the day, Negan began scouting the camp. He checked out how many people were in her little army and the kind of weaponry they had. There was no way that she would have everything out on display for some newcomer, but he was getting a decent idea of who these Whisperers were and he hated them more by the second.

It was a little while later when he ran into one of Alpha’s scouts. The man looked worried, but angry as well. “What’s got you all freaked out?” he asked the man.

“Enemy near border,” was all the man said.

“Did ya tell the boss?”

“Can’t find the Alpha,” the scout said.

“Big man went that way,” Negan said, pointing towards where he saw Beta disappear earlier. The scout nodded to him and went on his way. While Negan knew he should be doing more to be seen as a “team player”, curiosity got the best of him and he headed towards the border from which the scout was coming from.

It wasn’t far, and he figured it was probably Carol trying to figure out a weakness in Alpha’s defenses. However, it could have been another body drop, which would only light Alpha’s fury even more. Then again, Negan wasn’t sure if she really cared if a few of her men and women were sacrificed for her greater good. Just another thing Negan hated about the woman.

Continuing through the thick trees, it took him a bit longer to reach the ridge that looked over the specific border he was looking for. As soon as he made it to the tree line, he was struck by what he saw. It wasn’t Carol at all or even Daryl.

It was you.

You, and the young woman he knew as Enid, were walking along the invisible line that separated your territory from Alpha’s. Walkers were following you as you and Enid took them out with quick and fast strikes of your sword and her knife.

His heart jumped in his chest at the sight of you. He couldn’t hear what you were saying, but there was something about your body language that made him worried.

There was a hardness to you that he hadn’t seen in a while. There was no doubt in his mind now that you had been the one to put the Whisperer’s head on the pike. Watching as you killed the Walkers, all he wanted to do was reveal himself, to tell you that he was still there, but he couldn’t. Still, he didn’t move as you continued to cut down the undead enemy, whether it was risky or not.

-------

The weather was heating up and you didn’t like it at all.

Kicking out at another Walker, you kept walking, ignoring Enid’s looks that she had been sending you since you had met up with her earlier in the day. “You know, if you want to say something, just say it,” you finally said.

“I’m not sure you want to hear it,” Enid said.

“Try me,” you said. Enid sighed but finally said her piece.

"Antagonizing her wasn’t the best idea, (Y/N)," Enid said as she pulled her blade out of another Walker.

"What else was I supposed to do? I am sick of playing offense," you said, slashing down another Walker who came at you. Flicking away the blood off your sword you continued forward. It had been a long day and a long night. Siddiq was finally resting with Coco not far from him. Rosita was feeling better and everything back home was finally getting back to normal. It was only the external force that threatened your family now.

"You need a strategy," Enid said and even with your back turned to her, you knew that she was giving you one of her "doctor looks".

"I have one," you argued.

"Is that why Lydia is out there by herself?" Enid asked. Looking over your shoulder, you narrowed your eyes.

"I didn't tell you that for you to judge me," you said. After reviewing the maps, Lydia noticed a few landmarks that you had circled in red. She was sure that she knew where she could start looking. According to Lydia if Negan was your family, he was hers as well. Lydia had left early that morning with the promise that she would be back within a day or so.

"I can't believe you let her out there alone," Enid said.

"She knows what she's doing," you argued.

"She's a child!"

"So were you when you fought against the Saviors," you reminded her.

"That was different," Enid said.

"No it wasn't," you said. "Lydia was raised in this world. She knows what needs to be done and so do I."

"You're losing yourself in this vendetta against Beta and this drive to find Negan."

“Weren’t you just telling me that it was okay that I was still doing that?” you asked her.

“I didn’t mean for you to go all slasher film on Dante,” she accused.

“I had to send a message,” you said, ducking under another Walker’s arms and shoving your blade into the back of its skull, sending it to the ground to join the others.

“To Alpha or to Negan?” she asked.

“Does it matter?” you snapped back.

“You still think he’s around, don’t you?” she asked. Pausing, you took a moment to collect yourself. When you had invited Enid out to join you, you hadn’t expected a full-blown interrogation. You figured that she would still be rather reserved from the trauma she had sustained, but clearly, she was doing better than you thought.

“Yes,” you said with a sigh. “I don’t know what he’s doing, but I don’t believe that he’s completely gone.”

“What if…” Enid began. “What if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not,” you said defiantly. “I can feel it. He’s not lost and I will find him.”

“Just prepare yourself, okay?” she offered, landing a comforting hand on your shoulder. You let the weight of her touch soothe you as you got your thoughts together. It hadn’t been that long since you had last seen him, but it had been long enough. Waking up in the middle of the night, you found yourself reaching for him next to you only to find the spot empty. That coldness that echoed in your blankets mimicked itself in your heart and it was only a matter of time before your entire body froze over.

You needed him home and you needed him now.

A chill ran up your spine just then, that feeling of being watched returning. Turning towards the tree line, you narrowed your eyes. You knew it was a risk to be this close to the border, but you were willing to risk it. However, if the Whisperers were watching you this closely, it wasn’t for regular observation.

“What’s wrong?” Enid asked, noticing the change in your behavior.

“We need to go,” you said, gripping your sword tighter. You began to move back towards the main road when your radio lit up.

“(Y/N), come in,” Carol’s voice crackled over the line.

“I’m here,” you responded.

“I need you back home,” she said simply and that was all you needed.

“On my way,” you said before hooking the radio back onto your belt. “Come on, I gotta get back,” you said to Enid who began to follow you to the point where you both would turn off to go home to your respective communities. Just as you were about to leave the clearing, you glanced back over at the tree line and you swore you saw someone watching you.

---------

Negan watched as you disappeared again and was frozen in that spot for a while before deciding to head back.

It was dark when he finally returned to the camp. If anyone asked, Negan would say he got lost. He didn’t want to be around people and he didn’t want to be around Beta especially. He needed a moment to clear his head, though that did turn into several hours.

Arriving back into the fold, Negan was glad to see that he wasn’t met with spears or blades. In fact, it seemed as if nobody noticed that he was actually gone. Negan figured that nobody would really care if he had left. Then again, as he approached the fire, he did happen to see one person who looked up as soon as he was in view. Alpha had returned from wherever she had been.

The woman looked incredibly determined and actually quite smug. It made Negan a bit nervous. Still, he sauntered over to her, leaning into his hips with that sly grin on his face. “Just the Alpha I was looking for,” he said.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“I wanted to talk,” he said.

“About?”

“Well, I hear we're supposed to be keeping our eyes peeled for a spy lurkin' in the woods. I have an alternate theory to run by you,” Negan offered. Alpha gestured for him to sit down and he did.

“Go on,” she said.

“The spy you're looking for? Right here in your camp,” Negan said, enacting the next part of his plan. Divide and conquer.

“My people know the enemy have nothing to offer except lies,” Alpha said.

“Maybe they do. Maybe they don't. Believe it or not, I have been where you are right now. And if you don't want to end up where I am right now, I suggest you zig where I zagged,” said Negan. Alpha narrowed her eyes.

“You and I, very different,” Alpha said with a dismissive look, but Negan didn’t back down.

“I had people. I had a system. I thought they believed in it, just like you,” a flash of Simon’s traitorous face echoed in his mind and Negan pushed it down. “See, the thing is, you stay king or queen long enough, with people telling you all day, every day that your shit don't stink, eventually, you start to believe it. The thing is it still stinks.”

“Who?” Alpha asked, getting impatient.

“Well, based on my own personal experience, I'd say look closer to home. And, no, I am not talkin' about Frankenstein's Hemorrhoid. That big dude is clearly a goose stepper. But the little one?” Negan said, referencing Gamma. “You see, she is close enough to you that she knows exactly where that horde is. But she guards the border, which means she's close enough to the enemy that they could've gotten to her.”

Negan had overheard Gamma a day ago telling Alpha about a man with a metal arm. Negan wasn’t surprised to hear that Aaron was trying to be a hero. He was the type. However, this news did offer him an advantage. He didn’t think Alpha would care much about Aaron, which was good because his death was the last thing Negan wanted. He actually quite liked the man. Gamma, however, Negan didn’t care at all what happened to her.

Alpha didn’t like his tone all that much after his suggestion. “I will not have you sowing paranoia,” she said and then drew her knife, levelling it at his groin. “If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I will take these,” she said, pressing the blade to his jeans.

“Fair enough,” Negan breathed as the blade bit into his inner thigh. When Alpha withdrew the blade, she returned to staring into the fire with a proud look on her face. While he didn’t plan on sowing any further paranoia, he had planted that small seed in her brain which was exactly what he wanted to do. After a moment longer, curiosity got the best of him.

“You look rather thrilled,” he said, breaking the silence. “Did I miss something while I was out taking my evening stroll?” he asked. Alpha looked back at him as she cleaned her nails with her knife.

“Our problem won’t be lasting much longer,” she said and a coldness fell over Negan. He had a sudden image of your head on a spike and it made him feel rather sick. Like always, he pushed it down.

“What did you do?” he asked in a teasing tone, leaning closer to her. Alpha looked at him and there was mischief in her eyes. It was the kind that made Gotham villains so special and the kind that Negan really didn’t like.

“Carol wanted the horde,” Alpha said slowly, “and so I gave it to her.” Negan didn’t know what that meant, but he didn’t like the sound of it. He knew that Carol was out for blood when it came to Alpha and that she had been quite reckless with her vendetta. He remembered the day he went home and found out that she had taken a shot at the leader of the Whisperers. He wouldn’t be surprised if she had tried again. However, based on how elated Alpha looked at the moment, it seemed that Carol had lost this round.

Looking back at her, Alpha was watching him with a fire in her eyes that wasn’t solely mischief. If the circumstances were different and he wasn’t in love with you, he may have taken her up on the question that was so clearly written in her irises. Yet, he knew he wouldn’t. If there was any chance that he would get back to you, he didn’t need something that big weighing on him. You could forgive a lot, but him taking a tumble with the enemy would not be something you could turn the other cheek with.

Negan distracted himself then, looking around the camp at the masked soldiers. However, one in particular was still missing.

Where was Beta?

--------

In the dark of a cave, survivors struggled to find the light.

Then as night settled on Alexandria, a grave was no longer empty as a large shape, armed with knives, emerged into enemy territory.

TAGS: @lucillethings @cameronsails @stark-dreams @amaroho @thanossexual @yes-sir-hotchner @boom-bunny @delusionalteenagewhispers @scootankle @ritajammer21 @writteriguess @tea-atfive @jennydehavilland @waspyyy @yespleasejayhalstead @hoemadegrace @writingdeadangel @huffledor-able541 @pulplorrd @felicisimor

#walkerwords #the walking dead #twd imagines #negan x reader #negan x gn reader #savior sessions #negan #oc #twd #whisperers #negan x you #negan imagines

62 notes · View notes

chaoticallysapphic · 4 years

Text

Oh my heart part two

Summary: Lin never expected to have a soulmate, in a world where your mark appears whenever your soulmate is born she grew up completely blank. So when she’s thirty and it finally etches itself around her arm, she vows to never be with the one meant only for her.

A/N: one more part after this! Originally I just wanted it to be a two parter but it feels better this way.

Word count: 3k

Korra was becoming overbearing with her concern for you. Once you come back to air temple island she was there waiting to rant about a theory she had regarding Asami’s father. Usually, you’d reply and give good advice, unlike Pema’s, and would remind her not to get too worked up. But instead, as she opened her mouth to begin her rant, you broke out into tears. You wouldn’t tell her why, you were too embarrassed about the rejection of your soulmate to confess, even though it would help put Korra at ease to at least be in the know. She’d probably hunt Lin down and start some kind of fight with her regarding what happened.

“Korra,” you say one night when you both are lying in your separate beds in your shared room. “Have you met your soulmate?”

“I don’t know, I’ve kept it covered” she replies softly, she props herself up on her elbow, her eyes narrowing in the darkness, which you don’t notice. “Even with all these new people we’ve met?” your voice is soft, almost a bit hesitant of your inquiry.

“I like Mako, but I’ve seen his mark and it’s not what I said to him, I don’t want to confuse myself by looking” she sits up fully, “Is that why you're so sad, did you meet yours?”

“They didn’t want me..." You roll over so your back is facing your sister. Korra tries to pry it out of you, her voice laced with quiet rage but you simply squeeze your eyes shut and tune her out.

The next morning, Korra doesn't leave your side, she tries multiple times to get the truth out of you, but you always tell her to drop it and walk away. Later on, she reluctantly leaves to do some avatar stuff and asks Pema to keep you company. Pema was nice and in moments like these when you wished your mom was around to comfort you she was the second-best thing. Both of you are sitting at a table, teacups in your hands as the laughter of the kids can be heard from out the window.

"Korra told me what happened" Pema finally breaks the silence, it knocks you out of your thoughts and you harshly set the cup down onto the table, some of the contents of the cup sloshing out from the sides. "That was between us" you spit out.

"Tenzin tells me a lot of things and he's a man so I don't think he's pieced any of it together but… " Pema purses her lips and sets her teacup down onto the table, gently. "It's Lin, isn't it?" Sadness trickles down your throat and wraps itself around your insides, suddenly the door you'd hastily locked to keep yourself from crying in front of anyone busted open, and with it a tidal wave of tears. Pema pushes herself up off the floor and sits down next to you, albeit it takes her a few minutes to get there in her pregnant state. She wraps her arms around you and pulls you in tightly. You let your head fall onto her shoulder as you weep, your shoulders shake as the feeling of loneliness rocks you to your core.

“She doesn’t want me,” your voice is muffled but Pema hears you perfectly, she shushes you, running her hand soothingly through your hair. For what feels like hours all that can be heard is the sound of your strangled breaths and Pema’s humming. She slowly pulls away from you, panic rises in you and you try to stay within her arms but she places her hands on your shoulders to keep you from doing so.

Her hands reach up to your face, wiping away the tears that continue to seep out of your eyes. “I think part of Lin’s hesitation has to do with me,” she begins, your brows furrowed in confusion but before you can ask any questions, she continues “A long time ago Lin and Tenzin were together, he hadn’t met me yet but I knew he was it, even without having spoken to him. So when I saw him pulling away from her, I finally made my move and admitted I was his soulmate, the woman who could make him happy.”

Lin and Tenzin?... jealousy bubbles up in your throat which you try to push down, that was forever ago but maybe, she still loved him. Maybe that was part of the reason she rejected you. Pema pulled you out of your thoughts, brushing some of your hair out of your face in a motherly way. “I think because of that, she doesn’t think anyone else can love her.”

“But I’m her soulmate” you respond, sure you didn’t love her yet but you knew you felt something, ever since your discovery at the arena you’ve dreamt of being wrapped up in her arms once more, to be so close to her you can see every detail in her gorgeous green eyes. These dreams that fill you with pain and longing when you wake up, feel so unattainable now due to her swift rejection.

“Lin is a very confusing person, I think you need to try again and show her you won’t take no for an answer.” Pema’s words swirl around your mind as you try to think up a plan, her advice she gave to Korra a few weeks ago may have been bad but this seemed like it might work. If not then at least you wouldn’t stay awake at night wondering what if.

------

Before you can even formulate a plan on winning Lin over, Korra drags you off to help her with something important. She’s talking a mile a minute while Naga weaves past mobiles and dodges anyone who enters her path. The sun is high in the sky, marking that it's roughly midday and families are walking down the sidewalk together, couples are hand in hand, laughing about something the other has said. A part of you wonders what it might be like if Lin does decide to give the two of you a shot. She doesn’t seem like the kind of person to show affection in public, but what about behind closed doors?

Due to how fast Korra is talking along with you getting lost with the idea of Lin, you don’t pick up a single word she’s been saying, so when the polar dog finally stops in front of a warehouse that is in the middle of getting raided, you're a little confused, to say the least. You both climb down and walk towards the entrance where Tenzin and Lin are talking, that childish feeling of jealousy hits you at the sight of them talking and you mentally scold yourself for it. Tenzin is happily married to his soulmate, you remind yourself.

“Found anything?” Korra calls out, catching the attention of the two master benders. Lin’s eyes land on you and for a split second a look of sadness and pain crosses through her features but she quickly smothers it down with her usual scowl. It seems only you notice that momentary slip up as Tenzin begins telling you and Korra, even though honestly you aren’t listening, about whatever has gone on since she’s been gone.

Apparently, Korra believed Asami’s father to be an equalist which seemed a bit far fetched, he did sponsor her pro-bending team, right? But you trust your little sister and so when they find his factory to be empty, you place a gentle hand on her shoulder to offer her some form of comfort.

“It would appear Hiroshi is innocent” Lin finally speaks up with her arms crossed, since that first glance when you arrived, her eyes have been set on Korra. It stings to know she’s ignoring you but right now is about helping your sister and getting to the bottom of this. Asami waltzes up to the four of you with Mako by her side. “Okay, you did your search. Now you can all leave.” Korra ignores Asami and walks off to talk to Mako, leaving you alone.

“I can’t believe your in on this” Asami says to you, for the most part, you’ve stayed out of Korra’s drama, only lending her advice in private and helping her out when it came to equalists or Tarlock. You let out a sigh and look away from her gaze “she’s my sister Asami and she wouldn’t do something like this without reason.”

“Well he’s my father and he’s innocent, your sister is dragging him through the mud over a misinterpreted conversation” she fires back. Asami glares at you, taking a step closer to you to most likely try to get you all to back down. Before you can even think up a retort Lin, surprisingly, speaks up. “Ms. Sato, during these hard times we can’t leave any stone unturned, the warehouse is empty so you don’t need to worry about us anymore.”

Asami walks off with Mako’s arm slung around her shoulder and Korra all but storms back over with a defeated look on her face, you side glance Lin, who isn’t even paying you any attention anymore. She was probably just trying to keep a fight from breaking out, you tell yourself, she doesn’t care about you. But then Pema’s advice rings through your head, louder than the self-deprecating thoughts and you try to remind yourself that maybe Lin does care about you, hopefully.

After talking to the mystery man at midnight who ends up giving valuable information involving Hiroshi, a plan is set in place. You're all in a police force blimp, if not for the situation at hand you’d be marveling at the machinery with unbridled joy. You’ve never been on something like this before, sure the South Pole isn’t behind on the times but they don’t have any form of aircraft. “Raiding the Sato mansion is risky with Tarlock breathing down your neck. If we’re wrong-”

“I know. I can kiss my job goodbye. But protecting republic city is all I care about. We can’t let Amon get his hands on this new weapon” Lin says, effectively cutting Tenzin off. You stand a few paces behind them, fiddling with your hands as you eavesdrop on them. You want to get to know her, and Lin’s words offer you a piece of information regarding her personality and life without even meaning to. She’s a good person, she might have hurt you but she’s good and that warms your aching heart just a bit.

There are so many horror stories of people's soulmates being monsters, of being chained to someone who doesn’t treat them right that at least the universe decided to spare you on that front. You shake yourself of your thoughts, now is not the time to lose yourself over Lin, and soon enough you land in front of the Sato mansion, once inside Asami puts up quite a fight over her father's innocence which you don’t blame her for. If the roles were reversed you’d probably have already gotten physical with whoever tried to hurt your dad.

The workshop behind the house is small and empty, the policemen try to find any sort of nefarious plans hidden in drawers or boxes but once again come up empty-handed, the confusing part though is how Hiroshi is also nowhere to be found. There isn’t a connecting room where he may be and there aren't any windows he may have left from. “Chief, the estate has been secured, no one has left since we’ve arrived,” an officer tells Lin.

“Perhaps we just couldn’t see him leaving” she replies as she walks over to the center of the room, you step to the side as Korra had sort of stepped in front of you protectively when you entered the workshop, to see what she’s doing. What she does next you’ve heard of but never seen, many talk about the way Toph Beifong revolutionized earth bending, not only by learning to bend metal but also with her aseismic senses. She bends the metal off her foot and slams it down onto the ground. Lin closes her eyes and for a few seconds remains completely still.

“There’s a tunnel beneath the workshop running deep into the mountainside.” Your eyes widen at the discovery, maybe sometime in the future, if you and Lin do work it out you can gush about how much you admire her bending abilities, how truly powerful she is. Asami interrupts your daydream with her denial of such a thing, you do admire her loyalty to her father and his innocence and you honestly don’t want to see her reaction if he is an equalist.

Lin effortlessly bends a piece of metal from the floor and slams it into the wall, showcasing a staircase that leads down, just like she said. You grab onto Korra’s hand knowing she probably wants to race down immediately to find out what lurks below. “Maybe you don’t know everything about your father,” Korra says in an apologetic tone, looking over at Asami, “I’m sorry.”

Lin orders the officers to go down first and as you make your way to the stairs, Lin stops you. “Uh-uh, you four stay up here, officer so-” you scoff, going to push past her but she clamps a hand down onto your shoulder. “That includes you too.”

“I am not letting my little sister go down there without me, I can handle myself” You shrug Lins handoff and push past her to make your way down the stairs, her voice stops you as you take your first step down. “I’m the chief of police and I am order-” you look over your shoulder at Lin who looks completely composed, it irks you that right now she’s trying to control you, acting like she has some sort of say over your actions.

“Yeah and I don’t care, family trumps law enforcement” you reply, effectively ending the conversation.

“Wait, does that mean we can go down to?” you hear Boin ask from up above, Lin barks out a no as she follows after you, most likely scowling no doubt. On the tram that speeds downward, Lin approaches you with her hands held behind her back, she’s still scowling from earlier, but her expression softens just a fraction when you look into her eyes.

“Stay in the back and out of trouble” she orders, Korra and Tenzin are on the other side of the tram, out of earshot. You push off the railing and take a step closer until your chests are touching, maintaining eye contact with her. Lin’s breath catches, which pleases you and offers you a bit of hope.

“If Korra needs me I’ll do what I must to protect her, even if that means being in the frontlines,” you say defiantly. Lin sighs, her scowl diminishing. “You shouldn’t care anyway, remember? This, us, isn’t a thing… unless you’ve changed your min-”

“I haven’t, I want you out of the way because you’ll be a nuisance to the mission if you end up hurt or in need of help,” she says, taking a small step away from you before stalking off. Your shoulders sag, oh. Pema’s encouraging words seem so quiet right now, you could really use another pep talk from her right about now. For a second it seemed like maybe she’d caved, maybe she’d finally admit at this moment on the tram that she had feelings for you and wanted to give it a shot after this raid. Your hands clench as you try to squash down any oncoming tears and sigh.

The tram lurches to a stop and you stumble forward a bit before catching yourself. You can’t let Lin be right, can’t give her the satisfaction so you square your shoulders and march out after them. An audible gasp leaves you at the sight ahead. Korra was right, all day it seemed like a wild goose chase but in front of you is a large warehouse that has banners hanging from the ceilings with Amons face on them, fear crawls through you at the memory of being electrocuted at the arena, of the explosion and Korra almost dying too many times to count.

The center of the warehouse is empty, but what lines the walls are towering, mechanical… statues? You squint in confusion at the contraptions “and I’m guessing those are the new weapons” Korra states. You take a step forward from the group but Lin grabs your forearm and pulls you away from the statues and has you stand behind her. A part of you wants to yell at her, claim you aren’t a nuisance or useless, but now doesn’t seem like the time.

“Hiroshi was lying alright, but where is he?” Tenzin asks, and as if answering his question a large metal wall shoots up from beside you, Lin pulls you away from it and if not for her you probably would have gotten killed as it slams into the roof, locking you guys inside. You look up at her and she immediately drops your arm, tearing her gaze away from you and composing herself once more. Lin steps forward and tries to metal bend the wall back down, but nothing happens, not even a slight tremor, green lights flash on within the statues as they come to life, Hiroshi’s voice suddenly surrounds them, he must be talking into a microphone.

“I’m afraid you won’t be able to metal bend that wall, Chief Beifong. It’s solid platinum.” The statues make a loud whirring sound as they start to move away from their respective spots and glide towards the group, effectively cornering them. “My mecha tanks are platinum as well. Not even your renowned mother could bend a metal so pure.”

“Hiroshi, I knew you were a lying no good equalist. Come out here and-”

“And do what, young avatar? Face the wrath of your bending? No. I think I’ll fight from inside here, where my odds are a little more… equal” he cuts Korra off. Your eyes widen, not hearing what Lin says as he shoots a metal hook out of his tank's hand, you all jump away from it but the other tanks keep moving in on you.

You look around for any kind of water source, for a moment it seems like a fruitless attempt until you feel it, you whirl around and notice the metal pipe against the wall. You run-up to an officer and shout “I need you to break that pipe for me!” He stares in confusion for a minute before following your pointed finger and realizing your intentions. He rips the pipes open and water comes flooding in, you hope there's some kind of drain around here or you might have just doomed you all.

There’s no time to worry though and you bend sharp daggers made out of water and aim them at the tank closest to you, it whirls its face around to stare at its attacker and starts to advance on you, but you bend water around its feet and legs, then freeze it. While it’s immobile you send more frozen daggers at it, this time aiming for its chest and two finally penetrate the metal, causing sparks to fly out of its chest as it whirs, you bend water into the two holes, completely breaking it. Without a second to lose you move onto another that the officers are holding down with their wires and do the same to its chest. A loud crash is heard behind you and you whirl around to see that the tank Lin was on fell against a metal beam and onto the floor.

Your heart squeezes in fear until you see her standing on top of it, completely fine and a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in finally escapes with a strangled noise that probably would have embarrassed you in different circumstances. In your moment of distraction, the officers you helped had moved onto another tank, and you watch in horror as it electrocutes them by using their metal wires. The officers shout in pain as they spasm out of control before dropping to the ground.

That same tank advances on you quickly, you stumble back, slipping on the ice you had created for the first tank and fall onto it with a groan, your head slams down onto the ice and pain begins to spawn from that same spot but you can’t stop now, you can’t be a nuisance. Out of the corner of your eye, you see another one shoot its wire out at Lin and slam her against the wall. “Lin!” you shout, your eyes widening as she doesn’t move. Next Hiroshi’s tanks knock out Korra and soon after Tenzin, you're the only one awake and the tank chasing after you finally stop but doesn’t make a move to hurt you.

Hiroshi’s tank swirls around from its stance in front of Tenzin and charges at you, you bend water around the floor in front of you to create ice in hopes of stopping his advances, your starting to feel weak from the wound at the back of your head.

“I have plans for you,” Hiroshi says through his tanks microphone, it comes out a bit staticy due to the attacks but otherwise it moves like it’s still in perfect condition. You try to bend daggers at him but you can’t throw them far enough to hit him, they all fall at his tanks feet and a mocking laugh echoes through the warehouse. Something warm trickles down your neck, you hesitantly raise a hand to the back of your head and when you pull away your met with blood, it drips off your hand and onto the ice. You can’t beat them all, not alone and not in your state.

The ice begins to melt due to the heat of the room and Hiroshi shoots out a wire of his own, your heart gives out as you know what's about to happen, you close your eyes as you wait for the inevitable and are shortly encased in shocking pain, it's worse than last time, so much worse and you think you might have screamed, you're not entirely sure due to being disoriented from the millions of sharp pinpricks you feel in your bones. All to fast you once again succumb to the pain and your eyes give out.

223 notes · View notes