#team cap salt

[captainwidowspring]

On Nico's Ability to Defend Himself

An often-overlooked aspect of Nico's death scene in TFATWS is that there was literally nothing preventing him from thwarting John's attempt to kill him, and keeping it from being a death scene; he just didn't so that there would be a reason for the Captain America title to be stripped from John and given back to Sam. I feel like a major reason why a lot of people don't pick up on this fact, and instead perceive Nico to be defenseless (aside, of course, from the shamelessly manipulative framing) is that in the Siberia incident, the incident Nico's death scene is frequently compared to, Tony, after he lost the upper hand, didn't really get a chance to do much before Steve disabled his suit. It thus didn't stick out too badly when Nico also didn't do much before John attacked him with the shield, even though there was a lot more he could have done. Therefore, let's examine the two situations to see how they are different.

This is how the shield incident played out in Siberia. Near the end of the battle, Tony had managed to gain the upper hand and inflict serious damage on Steve. After Steve refused to stop defending Bucky, Tony prepared to straight up blow Steve out of the bunker and down the mountain: but right before he got the repulsor shot off, Bucky grabbed his leg. Irritated, Tony turned and kicked Bucky in the head with his metal boot. Then, before Tony had the chance to do anything else, Steve grabbed Tony and hoisted him into the air; Tony tried to use the jet packs on his boots to get out of the situation, but too much damage had been inflicted on them at that point for them to be of use, and Steve threw him to the ground. Steve then immediately rushed on top of Tony and punched his face mask three times out of sheer fury, after which he broke the helmet by hitting it twice more with his shield and then tore it off. He subsequently raised the shield, which caused Tony to frantically raise his arms to cover his face, and this allowed Steve to have a clear shot at the arc reactor, which he brought his shield down on and broke.

Now, considering how thoroughly biased Civil War is against Steve, and how much it sought to act like he was the one in the wrong—even though the entire Siberia fight was literally just Tony having a temper tantrum and Steve and Bucky trying to survive it—the creative team certainly wouldn't have minded if Tony had cried out in fear like Nico did, as it would be quite useful for the propaganda efforts. Therefore, there is clearly some reason why he didn't.

And it appears that there are two main reasons for this. The first reason seems to be that everything simply happened too fast. Indeed, the entire incident, from Tony preparing to shoot Steve to Steve disabling the arc reactor, took place in the span of about fifteen seconds. And Tony totally wasn't expecting Steve to grab him; presumably, he assumed that Steve was injured enough that taking his attention off him for a few seconds in order to kick his friend in the head wasn't a big deal. He underestimated the strength that poured into Steve's limbs when he saw Tony so callously abusing Bucky, as well as the fact that Steve is a supersoldier, so he can move really fast when he wants to.

So there was the element of surprise, and there was also the fact that Tony probably would have been a little stunned, both from the impact of being thrown to the ground, and from being hit in the head multiple times. It must, of course, be remembered that Tony was wearing a full-body metal suit, so no actual harm was inflicted upon him, but Steve is a supersoldier, so even with the layer of protection the impacts would certainly have been felt. These factors combined to produce the effect that, when Steve raised his shield, rather than take the time to yell anything, Tony simply prepared himself to face what was about to happen, which he thought would be Steve attempting to end him. But fortunately for him, he was wrong. Steve wasn't trying to kill Tony; Bucky was still alive, so Steve was able to contain his fury enough to refrain from a killing blow, and he hit the arc reactor instead.

Now, let's look at how Nico's death scene played out. After John pursued Nico for a bit, and managed to fend off a concrete trash can that Nico threw at him, he was able to hit Nico with the shield as Nico ran into a square. This forced Nico to stop to keep his balance, which allowed John to hit him again, and this finally knocked him over. Nico then tried to get back up twice; the first time John hit him with the shield again to keep him down, and the second time he put his foot on Nico's chest to pin him to the ground and stop his escape attempts. Then, since he couldn't try to get away anymore, Nico waved his hands and nervously insisted, "It wasn't me." He said this because, given the role he played in Lemar's death, he was well aware of why John might be mad at him specifically, for more than just being a friend of Karli. John, for his part, had been preparing to interrogate Nico about Karli's whereabouts, but this clear falsehood evidently filled him with rage, and he raised his shield in a fury. Rather than make an effort to block the imminent attack, Nico simply repeated, louder, "It wasn't me!" even though it was clear that John was not about to accept his garbage. And then, of course, since Nico wasn't about to actually do anything, the beating with the shield commenced.

Nico just lay there and was obediently killed, even though there was literally nothing stopping him from simply catching the shield and keeping it off his chest. His arms and hands were not at all restrained—indeed, he was waving them around—and unlike John, who had acquired a gash on his head, Nico was completely uninjured, so there wouldn't have been any pain distracting him either. And as we saw earlier, Nico is just as strong as John—he was able to restrain John so effectively that Karli would have been able to easily stab John if Lemar hadn't stopped her—and his evident fear would likely have given him enough strength to cancel out John's rage. So he would certainly have been able to keep the shield off his chest until Sam and Bucky, who appeared shortly afterwards, could save him if they wanted to.

Indeed, Nico didn't save himself even though, as evidenced by the fact that he did actually have a chance to cry out, he was dealing with a much less challenging situation than Tony was. For one thing, John bringing down the shield on Nico's chest was not at all a surprise. After John had pinned Nico to the ground, Nico had time to say, "It wasn't me" before John made any sort of move: and after John registered what Nico had said, he shifted his shield, which had been on his arm, into a two-handed grip, and then raised it. Nico clearly saw this coming; indeed, this is what caused him to shout "It wasn't me" a second time. And John's intentions at that point were obvious, so it's not like what happened with Tony where Tony thought that Steve was going to do one thing but he did another; it was pretty clear where John's shield was going, and this would have been plenty apparent to Nico since terror tends to make time slow down. So he had ample time to catch it.

Additionally, Nico would not have been stunned in the way that Tony was. Tony was slammed to the ground and then received five forceful rapid-fire close-range blows to the head, which is several hard impacts in a short span of time. Nico, by contrast, was hit once with the shield, then was knocked by John to the ground. This was a much shorter distance to fall than the overhead bench-press position that Tony was thrown from, and there were even stairs to break Nico's fall. Thereafter, Nico was hit with the shield again—and he hadn't gotten very far up, so he didn't fall very far back down—and then John thwarted Nico's final attempt to get up by pushing him down with his foot. In addition to the fact that the push was much gentler than getting hit with the shield again would have been, as before Nico hadn't gotten very far up, so he wouldn't have hit the ground that hard.

Therefore, in contrast to Tony, who received six sharp blows pretty much back to back, Nico received three fairly spread out blows—after the first hit with the shield, John had to close the distance between them and wind up again before hitting him a second time to knock him over, and then Nico fell to the ground and started to get back up before he was hit a third time—as well as a kind of shove. Nico thus did not receive nearly as harsh a pummeling as Tony did. And on top of that, he is a supersoldier: so even if his treatment had been rougher, Nico would have a much higher tolerance for pummeling than normal human Tony would.

Hence, Nico would not only have had plenty of time to see what John was doing, but he also would not have had to contend with the disorientation that Tony experienced. There is no excuse for why his only reaction to John's attack was yelling.

And here's what makes the fact that Nico didn't try to defend himself even more ridiculous. Even though Steve's attack was much more rapid, forceful, and unpredictable than John's was, Tony STILL did the logical thing and was ready to try to catch Steve's shield. Indeed, you can actually see a bit of strategy in his response to Steve raising the shield. Tony knew he wasn't strong enough to entirely keep the shield off his face since his suit was failing, so rather than try to stop it from hitting him, he was instead planning to try to grab the shield during its descent in order to slow it down and cushion the blow. As Steve brings the shield down, you can even see Tony open his fingers as he expects to encounter the shield. Nico did not do anything of the sort, he just aimlessly shouted as he passively lay there and waited for John to kill him. But come on! If Tony, who was just a normal human encased in a suit of rapidly failing metal, and who had been completely taken by surprise with a harsh walloping, could make an attempt to stop Steve from killing him (even though, as it turned out, he didn't need to), then Nico, who was a supersoldier, and who had received far less of a thrashing, could definitely have tried (and succeeded) to stop John from killing him. Especially since, unlike Tony, he actually would have been able to completely stop the shield from hitting him.

There is another difference between the two situations that is very interesting, however. Tony, for his part, was well aware that he was acting dishonorably. For instance, a little after Tony began his assault, when Bucky was trying to run away and Tony was intent on pursuit, Steve stood in front of him and said, "It wasn't him, Tony. Hydra had control of his mind." But Tony already knew this, so he simply responded "Move," in a way that clearly indicated that he didn't care and didn't want to hear it. And a short time later, when Tony prevented Bucky from escaping, Steve tried again to get through to him and said, "This isn't gonna change what happened," but Tony replied, "I don't care, he killed my mom." Tony knew that Bucky wasn't to blame for his parents' deaths, and that killing him would not help anything: but since he was angry with Steve for refusing to accept the Accords and all their rights-violations, he saw the revelation as an excuse to attack both Bucky because he knew it would hurt Steve, and Steve himself because Tony knew that Steve would not just stand by while Bucky was being assaulted. He ignored Steve's attempts to reason with him because he figured that he had enough power to be able to do whatever he wanted, and he also correctly guessed that Steve and Bucky would continuously hold back against him, even though they shouldn't have. And because of these things, before Bucky's intervention, Tony had been about to do something that could have quite possibly ended Steve's life. So when Steve regained the upper hand and Tony was at his mercy, Tony was aware that he had no right to ask Steve to spare him, because when he had been in Steve's position, he had been ready to potentially end Steve's life without a second thought. Therefore, he said nothing; his only response was to see if he had enough strength left to hold off Steve.

So Tony, in the face of Steve's attack, didn't yell anything because he knew that what he had done was indefensible: and it is due in part to this modicum of contrition that Steve was able to contain his rage enough to spare him. Nico, meanwhile, had been doing something similarly heinous. He had been actively engaged in trying to kill John because John was Captain America, and when Lemar frustrated the attempt on John's life, Nico was also the reason why John was unable to protect Lemar from Karli's subsequent death-blow. And just like Tony, Nico had been relying on his strength to protect him from repercussions. So what he had done was just as indefensible as what Tony did: but instead of taking the smallest bit of ownership of this, he tried to completely absolve himself of responsibility for what had happened, and this resulted in his downfall. For while John had clearly been intending to just interrogate Nico, the fact that the person who had held him helpless while his best friend was murdered was trying to act like he was not at all responsible for what had happened caused him to lose it, and this resulted in the shield incident. Now, Nico definitely should have made it clear that he was surrendering if he intended to, and even apologized if he genuinely regretted what had happened to Lemar: and again, when the attack did happen he could have easily fended it off. But if he had simply recognized the fact that he was not worthy of John's mercy since he had not been prepared to show mercy to John, and remained silent like Tony did, the shield-attack would never have happened in the first place.

But in any case, as mentioned above, Nico didn't try to defend himself because John needed to kill him, so that the show would have an excuse to take the Captain America mantle from John and give it back to Sam without it seeming too dubious. (Though considering that the incident ended up resulting in Sam and Bucky attacking John for the shield a very short time after he literally lost his best friend, the show completely failed at that.) Not to mention, if Nico had put up a fight, this would have highlighted how much he was still capable of threatening John, and put lie to the show's attempt to act like he was helpless. Particularly since, again, if he had tried to save himself there is no reason why he would not have been successful.

Now, it is important to also remember that Nico was definitely not surrendering, the other widespread misconception about his death scene. He kept trying to fight John until he literally couldn't—he threw a concrete trash can at John while he was running away, and tried to get back up twice after John initially knocked him over, which is not something someone who wanted to surrender would do—and then after John had him pinned, all he did was try to disingenuously absolve himself of responsibility for Lemar's death, rather than trying to apologize or making it clear that he was surrendering. But on top of the fact that Nico wasn't trying to surrender, and refused to own up to what he had done, he was perfectly capable of surviving John's attack when it happened. These things make his death scene, as well as the subsequent reaction to it, completely ridiculous and utterly nonsensical.

#john walker #pro john walker #john walker defense squad #john walker meta #john walker did nothing wrong #tfatws critical #anti captain america civil war #anti ca:cw #anti tony stark #team cap #fandom wank #marvel meta #mcu critical #mcu salt #long post

[valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn]

I continue to think Wanda should've left the Compound after this moment.

She immediately begins packing the moment she learns that Stank wants her confined. Vision tries to stop her from leaving, she puts him through the floor, and then leaves, and hides with Clint for a day or two. Wanda's words hit a chord with Vision, and make him realize "Yeah, it's wrong for me to be Wanda's jailer, and Mr. Stark is wrong about everything". Then he tracks her down, apologizes profusely to her, they reconcile, and Vision makes it up to her by helping Team Cap during the airport battle.

Frankly, I still don't understand how Vision would be on Stark's side in the first place. From a meta POV, sure, they needed both teams somewhat balanced and having Wanda and Vision in the same team would have rendered the others completely useless and the movie would have ended in 10 minutes, but in-universe?

He was quite clear in AoU that he understood the risks of holding too much power and how much damage and suffering that could cause so he joined the Avengers to stop Ultron, so what's the difference here? I'm assuming the Accords must have been uploaded somewhere, he should have been able to read through them in less than a minute and he would have seen them for the outrageous violation of civil rights that they are.

And yet in CW he's all about rules, strict guidelines and blaming the heroes for the shit the villains do? "Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict", sure mate, that's how it works. You don't stop and let the UN take over because that only makes matters worse, he should be able to see that.

I prefer him switching sides because he realizes that they're wrong rather than changing his mind out of Wanda's plight though. I do agree however that Wanda should have been given more screen time here because the way they treated her was so weird... Stark is talking shit about that American guy dying in Sokovia as if Pietro hadn't died as well, she's illegally kept hostage in the compound and nobody asks why the hell does Stark have any kind of authority over that when he's retired at that point? They're talking of Wanda being dangerous and then handing her internment protection to the guy who had the entirety of Sokovia destroyed? Is that a joke? 😂😂🤦‍♀️

#team cap #anti civil war #<- is that even a tag? #mcu salt #anti tony stark #Vision

[jelliessoap]

Idea! he team found out about Price's husband on a tv game, which they were watching out of boredom. His last name on the jersey is [lastname]-price. They think its a coincidence. But when he makes a winning shot, and the camera pans to him, he dose this specific hat thing, like pinch and smuge the rim of his hat, like when you pinch salt. They realize, its what Price dose! Coincidence I think not!

OMG I LOVE THIS IDEA SM!!!! IM !!!!!!!

hehehe some hcs under the cut thank you anon!

no warnings i can think of, m!reader, reader is a pitcher in this!

- john would have the game on at the base, ultimately forcing the rest of the task force to watch as well

- literally put the remote in his pocket so they couldn’t change it. they just assumed he really liked the sport for some reason and watched it as well.

- soap was and gaz ended up being the only ones truly paying attention, ghost would give the screen a glance every now and then, mostly just listening to the announcers voice as background noise.

- price only paid attention when you were on the field as per usual, sat next to gaz puffing away at his cigar, soap sat on the floor ( swears its more comfy ), with ghost at the opposite end of the couch

- it was bottom of the 9th and the opposing team’s bases were loaded, 3 balls 2 strikes and 2 outs. your team was up by two points but if they managed to hit a run or walk there was a good chance they could catch up. you needed to strike him out.

- price was stressed. his body tense as he leaned forward eyes fixed on the screen.

- gaz is looking at him like ‘???’ because price never mentioned being a baseball fan.

- it wasn’t that he kept you or your career a secret, it was well known he was married. he was just never questioned about it by the boys and the topic never got brought up

- he also figured it might be safer for both of you seeing you were such a public figure and he had plenty of threats with his job, it wasn’t exactly something he bragged about at work. should your identity fall into the wrong hands he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something happened to you

- ghost ever the observer couldn’t help but notice the way price paid extra attention to the player with, [last name]-price on the back of their jersey. though he figured it was just coincidence

- soap was just excited to be watching a sport tbh, thought it was boring but started to understand as the game went on. now that things were tense he was at the edge of his seat.

- “c’mon luv…” price would mutter under his breath barely audible as you prepared for the pitch that could make or break the game

- you threw a strike with precision, striking their batter out and earning your team the win for the night

- you had your signal to price, it’d become a bit of a signature move for you. as your teammates joined you on the field, cheering and celebrating everyone pumped full of adrenaline you smiled brightly eyes searching for the camera

- as soon as you found it you pulled your signature move, pinching the bill of your baseball cap and smudging your fingers along it while shooting a small wink to the camera. every one of your movement a direct communication to price. that you’d played for him, you won for him, that you were still thinking of him

- gaz noticed your gesture and looked to price in slight confusion. he’s seen price make that exact gesture with his boonie hat more times than he could count.

- ghost noticed too, also taking note of the way price’s lips twitched upward when he watched you and your team celebrate on screen. he was already sure there was something deeper to price’s interest in the game

- soap of course was the first to open his mouth

- “s’like he’s yer soulmate er somethin, captain.”

- “he is.” price would state so seriously, not a hint of joking in his tone. only fondness, even a bit of pride, his eyes never leaving the screen clinging to every bit of you he could get while so far away

- gaz’s eyes would get all wide and he’d say something like “right way to go cap.” finds the fact that price would watch a whole baseball game just for you and your on screen silent communications really romantic ( hopeless romantic gaz truthers rise up! )

- ghost pats himself on the back mentally, muttering a “knew it.”

- then there’s soap who turns his head so fast he nearly gets whiplash, eyes wide and jaw dropped, “YER GAY??” which earns him a light nudge in the side from ghost’s boot and a chuckle from price

#I LOVED WRITING THIS SO CUTE!!! #might make this a series or something #cod #cod headcanons #call of duty #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod x male reader #ghost cod #gaz cod #soap cod #john price #captain john price #john price x male reader #john price headcanons #headcanons #cod mw2 headcanons #male reader #cod modern warefare 2

[fxrmuladaydreams]

little crush (cl16)

charles x reader

request: hiya lovely could you maybe write something about charles with the subtle romantic gestures prompts? any of them are fine ❤️❤️❤️

wc: 1234

notes: charles, my first f1 love 🤭 this was actually so fun to write, i hope you enjoy it

Charles Leclerc was the Prince of Ferrari, Il Predestinato. He was one of the best drivers on the grid, sought after by almost every team. He had fans swooning for him wherever he went. And yet, he couldn’t get over this tiny little crush on you.

You were a friend of another driver, brought along to a race as a guest. He watched as you wandered the paddock with wide eyes, staring at everything around you. He watched as George threw an arm over your shoulders, steering you to the Mercedes building.

A few people questioned the Ferrari driver’s sudden interest in hanging around the Mercedes area all of a sudden, but all it would take was one look at him with you for everything to become clear.

It was nearly impossible to hide the longing look in his eyes whenever he was near you, and it only became worse when he actually got to know you.

He would often be caught trying to pull you away from the Mercedes garage, setting a bright red cap on your head after tossing away the black one. It wasn’t uncommon for you to willingly follow him to his garage, catching a smirk from his teammate. Even the fans had started to question why George Russell’s friend had suddenly become a frequent Ferrari guest.

You thought your friendship with the Monégasque was blossoming beautifully, but others would tell you otherwise. George’s teasing comments about the smile you couldn’t wipe from your face made you flush. Carlos’ insistence that Charles drives better when you’re in his garage made the Monégasque blush.

Of course Charles had already been aware of his crush on you, he’d had a crush on you before he even knew you, when you were still someone who just passed him by in the paddock. He just hadn’t expected his feelings to grow when he’d gotten to know you.

He didn’t want it to seem like he was taking some sort of claim over you, but he couldn’t help but be moody towards anyone who tried to pull you away from him. He remembers an incident with Pierre, the Frenchman had tried to get your attention, he’d offered to take you to the Alpine garage, to show you the car after you had mentioned liking the pink livery. He’d ended up on the receiving end of a harsh glare from Charles, but that quickly faded from his face when you turned back to him, tugging his hand towards Pierre.

“Let’s go see the car Charlie.” He stumbled after you, his hand still clasped in yours and a goofy smile spread over his face.

As much as you’d hoped the others were right about Charles’ supposed feelings for you, you took everything they said with a grain of salt. Charles was a world famous F1 driver, one of the top athletes in his sport. You were simply a friend of a friend, and he was simply being nice.

You had been looking forward to a dinner coming up that George had invited you to, some of the other drivers and their girlfriends would be there too. You enjoyed getting a look at the extravagant life George lived, and he enjoyed having you there with him.

George and Carmen had picked you up from your hotel, Carmen looking you up and down and fawning over you.

“Charles is going to melt when he sees you!” She says as she loops your arm with hers.

You simply laugh and shake your head.

The restaurant is dimly lit, a waiter guided your group to a back room where the rest of the drivers were. George and Carmen were quickly pulled away by Alex and Lily, leaving you shifting awkwardly on your feet. You felt a little out of place, like you were somewhere you didn’t belong, until your eyes met Charles’ and it all melted away.

He quietly excused himself from the person he was talking to, and took a few quick strides to get to you.

“You look beautiful Y/n.” He says as he pulls you into a hug.

“Thank you Charlie.”

You mingle a bit with the others, Charles' hand never leaving the small of your back, even when he’s talking with someone else.

“He’d been waiting for you to come in ever since he got here.” Lily whispers to you, a smirk on her face.

You end up seated across from Charles at dinner, his eyes rarely leaving yours, and watching you as you laugh at a joke he makes. A proud smile graces his features as he watches you lean into George slightly, hiding your face with a hand.

He’s surprised to feel a foot kick his leg under the table, and turns to see Carlos looking at him. He smiles, and shakes his head.

“You’re funny, but you’re not that funny.”

The rest of dinner goes well, more mingling afterwards, until you slowly feel your social battery draining.

“I think I’m going to head back to the hotel.” You tell George and Carmen.

“We can drive you back.” George starts, reaching for his keys in his pocket.

“It’s alright, I can walk.”

“I’ll walk with you.” Charles is quick to say.

“You don’t have to.” You tell him.

“I want to.” He smiles.

He grabs his jacket from his chair and follows you back outside.

The evening brings a cool breeze, making you shiver slightly. Charles drapes his jacket over your shoulders, shaking his head when you tell him he should wear his jacket.

“I’m fine amour.”

The term of endearment takes you both by surprise. His cheeks color a soft pink, but whether that was his words or the cold air you didn’t know.

You make conversation on the way back to the hotel, smiling to yourself when Charles steps around you so that he’s standing on the edge of the sidewalk.

Your hands brush against his several times, tempting you to interlink your fingers with his. You’ve held hands before, but always as friends, this would be stepping over a line that still seemed foggy to you.

He walks you up to your room, his arm brushing against yours. He looks like he wants to say something but can’t quite get it out.

You stop in front of your room, and slip his jacket off, holding it out to him.

“Thank you Charles.”

He smiles and ducks his head down.

“Did you want to come in for a drink? Before you have to go back to your room?” You ask, taking a chance.

He furrows his brows and fiddles with the jacket in his hands. “I have to walk back to the restaurant to get my car…” he laughs awkwardly.

“Charlie, why-”

“I wanted to spend more time with you, and I had fun. I like being with you.” He shrugs.

You stare at him, Charles Leclerc and his pretty green eyes, and his stupid smile, and you can’t stop yourself from holding his face and pulling it to yours to kiss him.

His hands instantly find themselves resting on your waist, pulling your body against his as he returns your kiss.

He smiles into the kiss, cursing the need to breathe when he has to pull away from you. As you pull him into your hotel room with you, he thanks god that he never got over his massive crush on you.

#charles leclerc x reader #cl16 x reader #charles leclerc #formula one x reader

[1-800-local-slut]

House of Memories (Spencer's Version)

Spencer Reid x Black! Fem! FBI! Reader

A look at your life with Spencer through the eyes of his team mates

Warnings: none really, just fluff, the team being observant, adult objects (condoms, alcohol, etc.,), not a warning but a note: reader isn't in the BAU but she works in the FBI, through Emily's POV

“I wasn’t expecting an invite from you, Reid. Thanks for having me over.” The front door to the apartment opened. Emily was holding a bottle of cheap wine that she grabbed from the liquor store down the street when she realized she forgot to bring a house gift. It was a close call too, she was literally driving past it when she realized and had to make a very hasty u-turn. 

“It’s no problem, thank you for coming! Derek, Garcia and Hotch are in the living room, Rossi’s in the bathroom and JJ’s coming late. Her loss though, I think she’d really enjoy Interstellar and if she comes late I know she’s going to complain. Come in, just take your shoes off if you don’t mind.” Emily nodded, after Spencer gave her a light side hug and accepted the bottle from her. 

He wore a white tee-shirt, pajama bottoms, and smelt fresh. His hair was damp as well, like he’d showered a few hours ago but his hair is so thick that it takes a minute for it to dry. She noticed his light shrug, as if it wasn’t his preference but he would take it anyways. 

Ghosting through the threshold, she bent down and slipped off her boots. She heard light chatter, music, smelt a vanilla and sea salt (it was a rough guess) candle burning, and heard the clatter of pots in the kitchen. 

She couldn’t help it, her analytical mind working before she could stop it. Sometimes she would find herself profiling strangers even when it was rude. And profiling your coworker who invited you into his home was very rude. 

Spencer’s shoes were thrown on the floor, one knocked on its side but still close together. As if it was an attempt on his end to be some sort of neat. Pairs of heels, pumps, boots were lined on the shoe rack but after doing a quick count, she noticed something. There were far more womens shoes than there were mens shoes. About six pairs of men's shoes to a 10 women’s shoe ratio.

Aaron, David, Derek make three, and the other three were clearly Spencer’s. Pen’s shoes obviously were one of those female shoes. The bright purple heels sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the browns, blacks, and deep reds of the female shoes. 

‘Enough Emily, stop being rude.’ 

“Your house is beautiful Spencer.” She couldn’t help but look around in slight awe. She wasn’t expecting Spencer’s house to be so…neat? No, that sounds mean. Neat in a way that didn’t seem like it was all Spencer. Sure Spencer’s little unique touches were sprinkled about the apartment and she was still standing at the doorway.

There were pictures of nature hanging on the wall, of a young black woman standing in front of a large pond far from the camera. She wore a pink baseball cap and had her hands flung out as if to emphasize how big the pond was. Who was that? A secret lover? She looked familiar, like a face Emily had seen in passing.

“Oh thanks. I just moved in a few months ago so not everything is fully set up.” Spencer called from the kitchen, and there were three clicks from the stove. Then he slid out, wiping his hands on a towel. As she walked through the house, she noticed more.

Potted plants with lush green leaves, knitted plant holders hanging from the ceiling, a red and dark blue patterned rug on the floor in the hall. From where she stood, she could see there was a small dining area. A nice wooden table, with papers and files scattered all over. 

She found her way to the living room and saw her coworkers engaged in whispers on the couch. More papers and files were on the small tables on either side of the couch, a contrast to the neatness of the rest of the house.

“Hey everybody, what’s up?” Emily asked. Heads snapped towards her, and she noticed Penelope’s eyes curved up in a mischievous grin. 

“Hi! Come sit, come sit.” Penelope motioned next to her, Derek and Rossi sliding over to make room for her. 

“Did you make it in okay?” Hotch asked and Emily nodded while she slipped onto the brown leather sofa. A dark purple hand knitted black was thrown over the back of it. Did Spencer take up knitting or was this just a nice purchase? 

Spencer plopped down into the brown leather armchair and rested his feet on the pouf in front of him. Emily noticed how spotless the glass coffee table in front of them was. 

The whole house was ridiculously clean. The wooden floors sparkled, the carpets meticulously vacuumed, the TV sparkled and the speakers next to the TV were flawlessly dusted. The large oak bookshelf that was up against the wall that was closest to the kitchen was also dusted and the books neatly organized. 

When would Spencer have time to clean his house so thoroughly? They were on a mission all of last week, got back two nights ago and have been at work since then. Sure, it’s Spencer he could just be very clean but the way things sparkled, it was clear they were cleaned merely a few hours ago. 

When they did go home it was late at night and they were back at work early the next day. Did he spend his whole Saturday afternoon scrubbing his floors, and preparing to cook for them? Spencer wasn’t the type to have a housekeeper, especially when he does his work all over and you can’t exactly leave FBI documents in the eye of the eye of a random house keeper.

“Sorry about the paperwork, I still have to set up my study. I have to put up my desk and everything.” Everyone voiced a consolation, some variation of ‘I don’t mind’ or ‘you should see my place’.

“Not the handyman?” Derek teased, wiggling his eyebrows. Spencer chuckled and shook his head. Spencer’s been smiling a lot more lately.

“I like keeping myself out of the hospital. Did you know every 45 minutes a piece of furniture falls on someone, and 25,000 people a year are treated at the hospital for a furniture related incident?” Spencer rattled off, emphasizing the numbers with his fingers.

Before anyone else could say anything, the doorbell rang. Spencer glanced back at the door, before he sprung to his feet with enthusiasm like he was expecting  Emily and Penelope exchanged looks, giggling while Rossi lightly rolled his eyes.

“Of course he knows that. Also, did any of you know that Spencer moved to a new place?” Derek asked.

“Well I knew. I know where all of you live. But it was very considerate of him to invite us over.” Hotch nodded, taking a sip of a bottle of water. Not Spencer’s usual brand but she did notice a switch some time ago. From Purelife to Poland Spring.

“Did you see the coat? Hanging by the door rack?” Penelope whispered, motioning for everyone to come in closer. There was a devilish twinkle in her eyes, her brain working overtime.

“What, you think he has some… extra company? A secret lover?” Rossi chuckled. Of course she noticed, but she just thought it was Penelope’s. 

“Maybe! Do you think?” Penelope asked excitedly, her hands flapping around with enthusiasm. Oh Penelope, ever the romantic. Derek giggled next to Penelope. He was lightly smacked by Penelope as a rebuttal and he giggled as if the slaps tickled him and they heard Spencer’s reapproaching foot steps along with an extra pair of heels. 

They all turned, eager to see who it was. Would it be the woman in the photo? His mom? Someone else?

“JJ!” Emily exclaimed when the final member of their team came in. She twisted around in her seat, happy to see her friend. JJ wasn’t able to make it on their last assignment so it had been a minute since they’d seen her. For people who practically live together, spending almost every moment together while at work was normal. They’d all fallen into a natural balance of being around each other. Of course they’d missed JJ while she was out sick.

“Hi!” She held her arms open for hugs, while the entire team voiced their hellos.

“Sorry I’m late, the grocery store was ridiculous. You wouldn’t believe what I saw, some lady's ex boyfriend came there and she called the cops on him like right there in the store. Apparently, he gave her something on purpose. She got on the speaker and called him ‘Dirty Dick David’. And then they fired her for playing with the mic that way!” She told her story while passing out hugs and then plopped down in the opposite arm chair across from the one Spencer was sitting in before.

“What?” Spencer laughed while he sat back down. 

“Right there it happened.” The whole team was laughing and Emily remembered that this was why she got along with her team so well. The easy laughter was so simple and refreshing.

“Woah, right there is insane! I guess she was sick of him.” Emily leaned slightly into Penny, allowing herself more comfort

“Imagine being at work and your ex who purposely infected you with something shows up to both you? I’d be pissed too.” Derek chuckled.

“I’ve been through three wives and never got a reaction like that, Dirty Dick David certainly had it coming.” Rossi added before they all laughed even harder.

Then there was a loud ringing noise. Spencer’s phone was going off and he patted himself down, lifting himself up checking to see if he was sitting on it. Then he got up, his face making a tiny expression like he could finally recall.

“I’ll be right back guys.” He ran into the kitchen and Penelope pulled everyone into a huddle.

“Okay, here’s what you missed JJ, you ready?”

“I’m ready?” She asked with an arch eyebrow and a nervous smile.

“There’s a bunch of lady stuff around here, like a coat and I don’t know if you saw the shoes but there are a lot of lady shoes. Rossi was in the bathroom and saw a bunch of lady stuff too, like a special face cleanser but he didn’t wanna snoop. I think he should’ve gone for it but whatever. Also I don’t know if you know but I know that Spencer doesn’t cook. 

His house is also really clean like really really clean like it was just clean but when would he have gotten the time to clean it? I mean we got off work like three hours ago. Running theories? Spencer has a housekeeper, a secret girlfriend, or his moms visiting. Got it? Okay, got it.” 

JJ blinked after Garcia’s rapid rundown, Derek nodding like he was able to keep up with that and Hotch all around looked displeased.

“We are guests in Spencer’s home, don’t go looking through his stuff. Maybe Spencer likes that stuff, that’s not any of our concern.” He frowned with a crease in his eyebrows. 

“Yeah Garcia, besides if Spence did get a girlfriend then I think that’s great for him.” JJ chuckled and Derek rubbed her shoulder comfortingly.

“I’m back! I picked up the shrimp and some wine. I also got some beers if you want any. The coolers are for me, you can have one but don’t take any of the pink ones. I like those ones.”  A familiar voice sounded through the house.

The sound of socks hitting the floor padded through the house and a young woman walked in. The woman from the photo more specifically. Her hair was in long braids that curled around her waist. She was gorgeous, a red scarf was wrapped around her neck to protect her from the chilly winter air. More specifically she was familiar. 

More specifically she was from a different team. More specifically a member of the HRT. The Hostage Rescue Unit. They’ve seen Spencer speaking with her a lot. They’ve teased him for their closeness multiple times, and knew they were a bit closer. But Emily didn’t know they were such close friends. For her to just walk into his home this way.

No offense to Spencer but when Emily said she was hot, she meant she was hot. Like she just stepped out of a magazine. And she never thought Spencer would have it in him to pull. Spencer was certainly nothing to sneeze at but my god was this woman attractive.

She was making her way through the house, to the kitchen lightly waddling. She held a bag of groceries and as if she could feel all the eyes on her she turned. 

“Oh hi! I’m sorry, I ran out to the grocery store. I didn’t realize we ran out of shrimp but the food will be done soon.” She beamed at them and put one of her hands on her hips. And Emily did as profilers do. She profiled even if she didn’t truly mean too. She was wearing pajama pants, and a puffy coat that was zipped open to reveal a white tank top. Above all she radiated joy, confidence and comfort.

“It’s nice to see you again.” Hotch cleared his throat, and she nodded at the members of the BAU.

“You got the shrimp?” Spencer called, coming out of the kitchen, slipping his phone into the pocket of his pants. He came up behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist. She instinctively angled her head to his and pushed herself up onto her tippy toes to plant a kiss on his lips.

Penelope was on the verge of exploding, her mouth open in a wide grin. She let out an excited squeal. The two agents jumped upon hearing the high pitched noise and everyone on the couch turned to face her.

“What?! Oh my god, when were you gonna tell us?!” Penelope asked, bounding up from the couch. Spencer looked confused above all as Penelope raced towards him and his apparent girlfriend.

“I didn’t think I had to, we weren’t exactly shy about it.” Spencer laughed as he looked at Penelope basically bouncing up and down in front of him. She giggled and Penelope paused.

“Dude we thought you were just friends?” Derek questioned from the couch. Spencer shook his head, looking more and more shocked by the second.

“So how long has this been going on?” Emily asked with a laugh. She had to laugh! How could she not be happy for Spencer? He looked so happy, he literally hadn’t stopped smiling since she came into the door and they kissed.

“Like a year? I mean, I know we jumped the gun with moving, but my lease was up and I decided that this would work and I couldn’t find anywhere close enough to work. We decided to go for it.” Spencer added, scratching the back of his neck.

“You guys really had no idea? I mean I tell you guys that we go out every weekend, I have a picture of her on my desk. We literally come to work together everyday.” Spencer exclaimed, motioning around with his hands.

“I don't see you that often at work, they probably don’t really notice those things.” She rationalized to him and rubbed a hand over his chest. He never moved his hand from around her waist. 

It all made sense. The candles littered around the house, the small basket of yarn and needles on the floor next to one of the arm chairs. The food even smelt too seasoned to be like anything Spencer could cook, the photos that Emily was just now realizing were taken of Spencer. The romance novel that Emily saw sitting on the glass coffee table. How spotless the entire house was. The shoes, the coat, Emily was just mad at herself for not recognizing the photo.

“Well. Way to go Reid, I didn’t know you had it in you.” She smirked at Derek’s remark and stood on her toes again. She whispered something in Spencer’s ear and he cackled with his mouth open in shock. 

He was turning a bashful shade of red and his voice squeaked as he sent her away. 

“I’ll be finished with your food soon, you guys.” Trailing into the kitchen, Spencer glanced over as if to check if she needed anything.

“Oh gosh, you didn’t have to cook for us! Thank you so much!” Emily exclaimed, realizing that she was just sitting there like a fish with her mouth wide open. 

“Let her cook, why not enjoy dinner and a movie?” Rossi joked. It seemed like the shock had dissipated and JJ giggled, her blonde hair shining like the Sun and Emily noted how her entire face lit up like a star.

“Honey, can you come help me with these groceries?” Spencer nodded, following her into the kitchen. They watched, waiting to watch them fully go into the kitchen. Then like little girls at a sleepover, they leaned back into their huddle. 

“Wow!”

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.” Hotch tried to keep the peace before his team of impatient agents ran rampant. Emily herself felt like she needed answers and she needed them now. 

“Did you see the way he looked at her? They’re so cute, I had a feeling when he came to work that one time smelling like perfume and wearing the same clothes but they were like all up on each other.” Penelope whispered excitedly. 

“I always knew opposites attract. You know they make a handsome couple too.” The excitement died down for a second and everyone had to look at Rossi. Who even used that phrasing anymore?

“You’re so old, Rossi.” JJ giggled and Hotch shook his head. Rossi smiled playfully, the way he always did when they made fun of him for being ancient.

“What do they even talk about? I mean sure they have stuff in common but for a whole year? I wasn’t expecting that!” Emily exclaimed.

“Reid’s never short on things to talk about.” Derek teased and Penelope swatted him again.

“I mean I noticed he’d been a bit happier but I wasn’t expecting this! I guess you just never know.” JJ added in, glancing over to the kitchen to make sure the two weren’t standing right there. 

“We can find out what they talk about.” No one wanted to admit it but they wanted to snoop so bad. So bad that when Penelope suggested it the best thing to do was to stop talking and be extra quiet so they could hear. Even Hotch, slowly reclined.

Over the clatter of pans, the soft clinking of bottles and things being put away, and dishes being taken out they heard her voice. 

“Emily brought us some wine. Pink.” Spencer’s voice broke through and Emily tensed up. Oh god, what if they hated the wine? 

“Oh my favorite. I’ve always liked that Emily. If it wasn’t for you, I’d go for her.” She laughed and plopped something into what sounded like a liquid. 

Derek made some funny eyebrows at Emily and Emily felt her cheeks heat up. JJ and Penelope both grabbed each other to stifle a laugh. As bad as it was to listen to your teammate and his girlfriend's conversation, they couldn’t stop.

“Aw babe don’t pout.” Then a kissing noise.

“There’s that smile. Also I picked up some condoms, we were down to six and you know we go through those like crazy. Speaking of which, I was thinking, do we really need those? I mean I’m on the pill and at the rate we go we’d save more money just not having sex. To be honest we spend a bit too much money on that stuff anyways and I don’t want to replace another bed frame. I like this one and we literally just got it. That or we just need to stop having sex so often. The call is totally yours but that bitch who works at the front cashier keeps looking at me funny everytime she sees me walk up.” It took a moment for everyone to process what she was talking about. It really took a moment. An identical frown spread over both Rossi and Hotch, and Derek had to put his fist in his mouth to avoid cackling. 

Oh god, this was an awful idea. Now there was just awkward silence. None of them could say anything even if they wanted to.

“So my options are death, death or going raw?” Spencer whined immediately.  Emily focused her eyes on something else instantly, the patterned carpet on the floor, the TV that was showing different scenery as it was in rest mode.

“Oh my god, you are so dramatic! You’re not going to die if we don’t have sexy every day.” The sound of a spoon clattering down and then she broke out into a fit of giggles.

“But how do you know!” He whined again.

“Like I said, it's your choice. It doesn’t really matter to me, I’m just sick of always having to go to the store. And you’re squeezing my ribs.”

“I like your idea. Besides, we have abortion money.” She gasped softly and then broke into light laughter. JJ’s jaw dropped open and Derek snorted before he covered his nose. Of everything that was expected it wasn’t that.

“That’s awful, baby.” She scolded and Emily got a mental image of the two. Was she standing in front of the stove, the smell of food wafting through the house, Spencer standing behind her with arms wrapped firmly around her? If Emily wasn’t so uncomfortable right now her mouth would be watering. It would also warm her heart to hear how happy her friend was.

“I’m sorry.” He joined in on the laughter.

“Oh my god we’re being awful host! Plate up the soup and I’ll pour the wine.”

Once the two came back out, it was hard to even look at Spencer knowing that he had apparently helped break a bed frame. Even if he was holding trays of the most mouth watering gumbo.

“Who wants to watch Interstellar?”

#black reader #x reader #x black reader #fem reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x black reader #criminal minds #bau team

[submariini]

When Finland’s Käärijä took the stage at this year’s Eurovision, a star was instantly, explosively born. With an outrageous energy, infectious presence and that oh-so-catchy hook, the Vantaa-based rapper may not have won the contest but he certainly snatched the hearts of those in his home country and beyond. We ask Käärijä the million dollar question: what next?

[full article under the cut]

Last May, a peculiar frenzy engulfed Finland. Virtually all green foods – cucumbers, especially – were sold out from stores. Buildings across the land were bathed in vivid green lights. Social media brimmed with green-themed parties, while data obtained by Swedish fintech company Klarna showed a 570 per cent increase in the online sales of neon green shirts.

This phenomenon was all thanks to Käärijä, the rapper who represented Finland in the 2023 Eurovision Song Contest. His now-infamous, blazing green puff sleeve bolero – dreamt up by Finnish broadcasting company Yle’s costume design team and which he dons when performing the smash hit track ‘Cha Cha Cha’ – had taken on a life of its own, the lush hue uniting the entire nation amid the competition. “It was incredible to see it happen and so cool being part of it,” Käärijä says. “It wasn’t planned at all – it was the people who created the commotion. I’ll definitely never forget it.”

When we speak over Zoom, Käärijä, whose real name is Jere Pöyhönen, is lounging in his minimal apartment in Vantaa, a city just outside Helsinki. He appears on my screen shirtless, a chunky gold chain dangling on his neck. On his head sits a pastel turquoise cap adorned with little cat ears. As he gestures with his hands, I spot flashes of poison green nail varnish. Pöyhönen’s chosen attire, or lack thereof, is extremely fitting – he typically performs bare-chested (“It gets so hot during my gigs”) and his Instagram handle is @paidatonriehuja, or ‘shirtless rascal’.

Hot off a performance in western Finland, the 29-year-old is enjoying his first days off in a while. It’s been a sweltering summer of non-stop touring, with fans flocking to festivals and concerts nationwide to see his explosive live show. Things are not winding down either, with Käärijä heading off on his first-ever European tour this month. Some of these shows sold out in mere minutes, an indication of his immense international following. “It’s so exciting; I’m definitely jumping into a new territory with that tour,” Pöyhönen says. “But I don’t have any expectations – I’m just going to let everything happen organically rather than stressing about it.”

Although he created one of this year’s buzziest songs, the guy on my screen is humble and, save for his look, almost un assuming. I remark on the stark contrast to his fiery and flamboyant stage presence. “Through Käärijä, I get to channel all the craziness, quirkiness and hyperactivity I’ve had since I was a child,” Pöyhönen says, describing himself offstage as “just this ordinary dude”. Without delving into further details, he tells me that the name Käärijä (translating roughly to moneymaker) stems from a history with gambling. Despite the darkness of its origin, he notes that the moniker is to be taken with a grain of salt.

While it might seem like Käärijä exploded into the public consciousness from obscurity, Pöyhönen has a long journey in music behind him. Born in Helsinki but having spent most of his youth in Vantaa, he started dabbling in the medium at just three years old. Coming from a musical family (“My dad and big brother both play the guitar”), jamming sessions were commonplace in the Pöyhönen household, his instrument of choice being the drums. “I was playing with pots and spoons before I got a set of those plastic kids’ drums,” he says. “When we moved to a bigger house, we built a band room downstairs where me and my brother spent a lot of time practising.”

At that time, rap music hadn’t yet entered Pöyhönen’s life; he was strictly a self-described “metal guy”. His older brother had instilled in him a love for the genre, particularly metal icons Rammstein. Upon starting high school, his musical taste broadened and he began listening to Eminem and popular Finnish rap groups Fintelligens and JVG. “Me and my friends were filming our own music videos to old rap songs, learning the words by heart,” Pöyhönen says. “It [making rap music] pretty much started as this humour thing I did with my mates.”

Encouraged by his loved ones, Pöyhönen began writing his own songs, still playing it for laughs. Turned out he had a knack for it. “Since I was little, I’ve been an avid storyteller – my imagination ran a little wilder than the rest of the kids’ at my school,” he says. “So when I started making music, I didn’t even need inspiration; I was able to whip up the lyrics from my head.”

But then, at 15, an unexpected turning point came by way of a severe sudden illness. Rushed to the hospital with ulcerative colitis, a chronic inflammatory bowel disease, Pöyhönen underwent emergency surgery to remove his colon. Had he not been treated immediately, the complications could have been fatal. “I was writing songs in the hospital – music became a source of strength for me,” he says. “I decided that if I make it through this, I’m going to give my all to music and be serious about it.”

After over a decade of hard work and countless hours in the studio, Käärijä released his first album, Fantastista (Fantastic), in 2020, but it would take three years for him to become a household name in Finland. After snapping up the top prize in Uuden Musiikin Kilpailu (the Finnish contest for new music) with his party anthem ‘Cha Cha Cha’, a song dedicated to a hedonistic night out fusing rap, electronic music and metal, he secured the coveted spot as his country’s entrant for the 2023 Eurovision, held in Liverpool. One of Pöyhönen’s craziest dreams had come true.

For Pöyhönen, Eurovision was “an amazing but immensely tough experience”. The event’s intense schedule and the little time carved out for practising surprised the artist. There was no room for errors or retakes once it was time for rehearsals. “They didn’t give much mercy,” he says. On the bright side, the long days filled with “lots of press conferences and waiting around” gave Pöyhönen a chance to get to know the other artists. “The group we had there was wonderful – there wasn’t a competitive atmosphere at all,” he says. One of the contestants he became especially close with was Sweden’s Loreen, with whom he exchanged numbers and promised to “meet up and talk about everything else but music”.

By the time the grand finale came, Käärijä’s explosive performance and infectious song had made him one of the favourites to win. Ultimately he came second, while Loreen nabbed first place. How did Pöyhönen handle the letdown? “It was a huge disappointment, but in the end, the feeling didn’t last long,” he says. “When I thought about how far I’d gotten, the incredible journey it was and all the new friends I made, I realised that these things are far more meaningful than winning.” Plus, he still achieved something major: ‘Cha Cha Cha’ made history as the first ever Finnish song to reach Spotify’s global most-listened charts. The track’s reach proved to Pöyhönen that language doesn’t matter; it’s all about creating a singular, infectious sound: “The mouth is just as much of an instrument as the piano or the guitar is,” he says.

Having made history, I ask Pöyhönen if he felt any pressure after the Eurovision bubble had burst. “Of course there are the thoughts of ‘what now?’ and ‘is this going to be it, will anyone be interested anymore next year?’ – I’m aware that the hype won’t last forever,” he says. “But I’m onto creating the next thing, trying not to feel any pressure for future releases. I haven’t done that before, so why would I do that now?”

Pöyhönen hints at a new album dropping sometime next year, but in the meantime, he’s enjoying the attention – including his Vogue Scandinavia debut. Shot at the extraordinary home of the late interior architect Antti Nurmesniemi and his wife, textile artist Vuokko Nurmesniemi, we find the space where Pöyhönen and Käärijä meet, the quiet confidence mingling with that more-is-more persona.

And while Käärijä might develop as a character (“I want to show that he’s more than just a bolero chap”), he’s adamant that he will stay true to his music and keep singing in Finnish, despite the sudden international attention. “In the end, I’m doing this for myself,” he says. “Also, why change something that works?”

Photographer: Karoliina Bärlund Stylist: Sanna Silander Talent: Käärijä Hair Stylist and Makeup Artist: Neea Kuurne Photographer Assistant: Milja Laakso Stylist Assistant: Nelli Korhonen

#käärijä #jere pöyhönen #eurovision #the article in full

[hughesurdaddy43]

bad sacrifices

Summary: you love your best friend who loves someone else

pairing: quinn hughes x fem reader

You and Quinn stare out your window from your fourth floor walk up. Strangers in the streets, out and about enjoying the night life, wrapped up in winter coats and knit scarves.

"I bet they're cold." You laugh gently, sloshing around red wine in your coffee mug. The weather forecast told you there was an 80 percent chance of rain and heavy winds. You and Quinn made plans to go out, but he knew how much you hated driving in the rain, so he asked for a night in instead.

Quinn gets up from the window first, making his way over to the kitchen to pour himself a new mug of wine. "Typical Canadiens," He says, "I think this makes you some type of outcast, Nat." His back is facing you, but you know there's a smile plastered on his face. Is he really your best friend if he isn't giving you a hard time?

You follow Quinn to the kitchen, pulling yourself onto the counter to be near him again.

"Outcasts are cooler any way, Quintin. I know you know that."

You watch Quinn as he laughs. A stray piece of hair falls over his face and his free hand reaches up to push it away.

You loved this side of Quinn. The side where he isn't too busy worrying about his team. Where he can relax and be himself, because you won't ask him to be anything he's not. Just Quinn Hughes.

You watch Quinn carefully. Sometimes afraid to blink, afraid that the second your eyes close, the boy in front of you will vanish.

"Can I be honest with you?" You ask Quinn, regaining his attention. His eyes meet yours, and you're almost positive he's looking at you the same way you look at him. "Always," Quinn says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You let your eyes drop from his, afraid of what you're about to say next. And if it weren't for the alcohol coursing through your veins, you'd never have the courage to say this.

"I wish you loved me the way you love her."

His eyes are still on you, you don't need to look back at him to know.

There's silence, but the air isn't thick with tension. No sorrowful sighs or rushing out the front door.

"You wanna go for a walk?" He asks you, and you say yes because you can never imagine a life where Quinn isn't right there by your side.

Now you two are the strangers in the street. Wrapped up in coats and scarves. Quinn wears a cap on his head, in hopes that nobody will recognize him.

You're hanging onto his arm, which isn't unusual for the two of you.

The two of you haven't said a word since leaving your apartment, but you were comfortable.

There's a gelato shop ahead of you and you pull Quinn inside because you can't keep on pretending that you aren't freezing, and because you want a reason to talk. You want to hear his thoughts.

You both get the same flavour. Salted caramel.

"You want to try mine?" Quinn asks you, breaking the silence. You laugh and open your mouth so he can shovel a small spoon full on gelato in your mouth.

"Very good, Quinn." You tell him, and he laughs with you over nothing because it wasn't really that funny, but it's Quinn, and when you're with him you can't not laugh.

Across from you is Quinn, who isn't saying anything at all, but you can tell that his mind is scattered all over the place. For a moment, you think you broke him.

"I'm not a cheater, Nat." He tells you, and then he closes runs a hand over his face, almost regretting what he just said. You don't react because you don't really know what to say.

Quinn stands up, sticking his hand out for you to grab. "Lets head back, yeah?" You nod your head, reaching out for his hand.

There are less people outside now, the weather dropped significantly since you stepped into the gelato shop, but you're grateful because you are in love. And you feel like your love is taking up so much space in your body to the point where it's seeping out of you and there isn't enough space on the sidewalk for anyone else except for you and Quinn.

You reach your apartment in no time, hand still holding Quinns. Your face is turning red from the cold but you don't care because he is right there next to you, and you would sacrifice warmth and everything more for Quinn.

"I'm not a cheater, Nat" Quinn repeats, and it makes you feel like he's trying to convince himself. He lets go of your hand and folds his own together to brace the back of his head. "I'm not asking you to cheat, Quinn." You whisper, and you're not sure if thats true.

"I love her, Nat. I really do love her," He looks at you and once he sees that you aren't looking at him he drops his head. Eyes glued to his feet. "I wish, God. Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"It's not like I planned this out Quinn. You made me fall in love with you."

In a split second Quinn has a hand on your chin, pulling your face close to his. Your eyes are closed but you can feel how close are lips are to his. You want to kiss him, you want to be able to forget about the world around you, and just as you're about to lean in to close the space between you, you pull away.

"You have a girlfriend Quinn, that you love. We can't"

Quinn laughs and takes a step back. You aren't sure whats happening right now, actions speak louder than words and he told you everything you need to know.

You start to head up the stairs to your apartment. Quinn stays on the sidewalk, and you both know that it's for the best.

"Nat?" He calls out for you. You stop and turn around, but you don't walk back down the stairs, afraid that if you're too close to him you might not be able to control yourself. "If I ever get married to a girl that's not you, I'd pray to God that you'd stand up and object."

Your eyebrows furrow together, unsure of what that's supposed to mean.

"That's how I feel about you."

You smile at Quinn, setting your hand on the doorknob of your apartment complex. "Goodnight, Quinn."

You leave him in the cold, because he has a girlfriend, and you love him, and you'd sacrifice your own love if it meant Quinn was happy.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes blurb #hughes brothers #hockey boys #hockey blurb #nhl imagine #jack hughes #luke hughes #nhl #nhl fic

[garbinge]

Jane Austen and a New York bench

Jess Mariano x F!Reader Warnings: Fluff, light bickering/back and forth. Typical Jess angsty-ness. Summary: After school shenanigans with Jess in NY. Word Count: 1k All Writing Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics A/N: Never wrote for Gilmore Girls before but fun fact is actually one of my favorite shows!! I've watched it at least 10 times through. I am team Jess always and forever. Enjoy this light and fluffy (as fluffy as Jess can be while still being Jess) fic!

“I didn’t take you as a Jane Austen type.” You plopped down on the bench next to Jess. 

“I never said I don’t like Jane Austen.” His voice was littered with frustration as he set the book down on his lap. 

“True, but I’ve never seen you read anything by her.” You tucked your legs up on the bench so you were now facing Jess, your side now resting against the back of the bench. 

“Until now.” He lifted the book up and dipped his head as he shook the book. 

“Until now.” You agreed, nodding your head. 

“Where you coming from?” Jess asked, adjusting himself so he could look at you, resting his arm along the back of the bench behind your shoulder. 

“You know, there’s this establishment, institution some may call, that provide these spaces for learning and education and they’re usually in session from the morning to the afternoon.” You sarcastically explained. 

“I must look into this fine establishment you speak of.” Jess responded. 

“You know the more you miss the more you’ll have to make up for.” You leveled with your best friend. 

“I’m caught up.” Jess’s voice raised in defense even though he still had a slacker attitude that was always impossible for him to lose. 

“Yea, thanks to me.” You pulled away to grab books and notes from your bag to hand over to him. 

He grabbed them and started filtering through them. “You know, your capital letters are always hard to read, it’s like a drop cap every start of a sentence.” 

“Beggars can’t be choosers, Mariano. If you don’t like my notes, now hear me out," you paused for a few seconds as your eyebrows raised, "maybe you could go to school and take your own.” You faked a shock face like what you said was ground-breaking.

“But then we wouldn’t get to share these moments, that I cherish so deeply, with each other.” 

You rolled your eyes and rested your head on Jess’ arm and closed your eyes. 

For a moment you both sat there, you were soaking in the relaxation from a long day. Jess was taking the time to stare at you, taking in your features, his hand was beginning to get tangled in the fur of your coat as he lightly rubbed your shoulder. 

“You hungry?” Jess asked at more of a whisper than he was speaking before in case you had began to fade to sleep. 

“You buying?” You mumbled back to him, eyes still closed. 

You felt his breath hit your face as he chuckled from your response. “Sure, hot dog?” 

“With everything on it.” You pouted and thought if you wanted anything else. “And a soda, ginger ale–no, coke.” 

He let out another laugh. “I’ll get a ginger ale and you get a coke, we’ll share.” 

“You’re wasting that brilliant mind not coming to school, Mariano.” You were already off the bench and starting to walk down the busy New York street as you yelled back to him. 

Jess was still smiling as he gathered his things quickly before catching up with you. 

“Maybe I’m too brilliant for school.” 

“I change my mind that statement proves you have no brain cells.” You teased him as you approached the hot dog cart and began ordering. 

As Jess handed the man a $20 bill, you were beginning to balance the drinks and hot dogs and finding another bench in the same park you were just in. 

Jess was close behind you and wafted a paper tray of french fries in your face before plopping down next to you. 

“Okay, that earns you TWO braincells.” You spoke with a mouth full of hot dog, covering your mouth with your hand to hide the half chewed food.

“French fries have to earn me at least 4 and the salt pepper combo another 2. So I should be at like 10.” He argued as he unwrapped his hot dog. 

“You should be at zero again, you can’t do simple addition.” You teased. 

His smile grew and he was grabbing something from behind his back and before you could question anything the plastic cup filled with liquid gold was shining in front of your eyes like the angels from above had presented it to you. 

“Melted cheese?” You took a deep breath in shock and happiness all at once. 

“Melted cheese.” Jess repeated your question as a statement and held it out further for you to take.

“But you haaaate getting the side order of cheese, you say its a rip off.” You were quick to remove the cap off the plastic container and dip a french fry in it pretty immediately. As you ate the cheese dipped fry you dropped your shoulders in an act to show how great it tasted. 

“I’m not oblivious to the greatness of a hot dog cart melted cheese cup, I just think $2.00 for a tiny cup of cheese is ridiculous.” He argued as he was making his way to dip his own fry in the sauce. 

“But yet you did it this time.” You were pointing at him with a french fry while your other hand was bringing up your soda to drink, eyes slightly frowning trying to figure him out. 

“Because you like it, and I like when you’re happy.” It was a short sentence but for someone like Jess who grunted or rarely spoke about anything emotional in more than two syllables it might has well have been a novelized love letter. 

You paused and looked up at him, he had spoken the sentence so nonchalant as he was switching sodas with you, again another action to prove his thoughtfulness. 

“Jess, the romantic.” It was a playful comment but there was truth behind it when you spoke it. 

He smiled at the comment snd continued to pick through the food that was spread along the bench. 

“What can I say it’s all that Jane Austen.” 

#Gilmore Girls #Gilmore Girls Fanfic #Jess Mariano #Jess Mariano x Reader #Jess Mariano Fanfic

[trulybetty]

dec' x 20 - coming home

Prompt: coming home Pairing: frankie x reader Word Count: 1,253 Warnings: cold weather, homecomings, mentions of Frankie's curls, general fluff and we're un-beta'd here, all mistakes are my own. Summary: Frankie returns home after his first deployment of your relationship. AO3: Linked

x. masterlist

A/N: I figured since I had this one ready to go I'd post it. Might queue up what I have done and circle back to the days that need completing before the month is out. If I tried to write now, I think it would be a series of gif's and gibberish in hope I got my story across lol

The air was cold and sharp and stung at his eyes. He reached up to pull his cap down out of habit, forgetting he’d left it on the bedside table two minutes too late when he’d left over three weeks ago. The ground was a mix of slushy snow and ice mixed with the grit of salt. The salt trucks had come around the base early that morning but would do little once the night's colder temperatures came in to freeze it over. 

He hadn’t been permitted to fly into base. Part of the process of post-deployment and debriefing, but he had heard the pilots discussing the weather. The mass snowstorm that had hit Colorado had eased enough for them to be flown in, allowing them to come home as planned. 

Home. 

Frankie thought it to be such a novel concept suddenly. He’d never referred to returning to base home in the past. But with you there now, the word had slipped from his tongue more than once.  

Communication was cut off during reconnaissance. As it usually was standard, but this time all personal communication devices had been sequestered and he’d had no chance to send you a message that he was on his way back. A part of him, something that he hadn’t allowed himself to indulge in before you, had imagined seeing you on the tarmac, at the parking lot. 

He’d never had anyone waiting for him before. 

He’d watched all the other guys at some point in their lives come home to waiting arms eager to have them home. Heck, even Santiago had someone there waiting for him at homecoming on more than one occasion. It wasn’t like there hadn’t been anyone, there had been several relationships before you - but none had existed to run the gauntlet of that first deployment, tapping out before things could get serious or unable to cope with the trappings of military life.

Things between the two of you were still so new. Yes, there had been the whirlwind year playing fast and loose with the notion of it just being ‘fun’ and ‘friends with benefits’. But you had jumped into the deep end with him without the preamble of a typical relationship. 

Within two weeks of saying yes, your apartment was packed, a new remote position was signed and all his belongings on base were already packed and making their way to Colorado. 

As part of their cover, their return was coordinated to coincide with the homecoming of a troop from Afghanistan. The tarmac was heaving with emotions and bodies, families and friends creating a sea of faces, each one searching for their own loved one. Frankie and his Delta team, always adept at slipping in unnoticed, used this chaos to their advantage. But Frankie's eyes were solely focused on one thing – finding you in the crowd.

Will, standing beside him, nudged his arm. “She gonna be here, man?” His voice was barely audible over the commotion.

Frankie shrugged, a tightness in his chest. “Don't know,” he admitted, the uncertainty was gnawing at him. What if you weren’t here? What if you didn’t know? He hadn't been able to get a message to you, to tell you he was coming back. You still didn’t know anyone on the base and he wondered if anyone had reached out to let you know.

Then, like a scene from a movie, the crowd parted, and there you were. Lost amongst the sea of people, pulling your coat tighter around you, seemingly too thin against the Colorado winter, your eyes scanning the area, a look of hopeful anticipation across on your face.

Frankie's breath caught in his throat. It had only been three weeks since he'd seen you last, but in that moment, it felt too long. The way the cold air made your eyes brighter, the way your breath formed clouds in the frosty air, the way you bit your lip in concentration – it was like seeing you for the first time all over again.

He hadn’t even realized he was moving until he was halfway through the crowd, his focus solely on you. The noise around him faded to a dull roar, the cold, the discomfort, the fatigue from his deployment, all of it disappeared. All that mattered was the few feet of distance that still separated you from him.

Will called out something behind him, but Frankie didn’t hear it. His entire world had narrowed down to the space where you stood.

As you finally noticed him, your eyes widened in surprise, then filled with unmistakable joy. A smile broke across your face, a smile that reached your eyes and lit up your entire being. Frankie felt a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the temperature.

You started towards him, a little hesitant at first, as if you couldn’t believe he was really there. Then, as if suddenly realizing it was indeed him, you broke into a run.

Frankie met you halfway, and when you threw your arms around him, all the pent-up emotions, the fears, the loneliness, seemed to melt away. He held you tightly against him, breathing in the scent of your hair, feeling the realness of your presence. This was what he had missed the most – the simple yet profound comfort of holding you.

You didn’t dare let go, didn’t dare blink for fear he would no longer be standing before you. You wanted to touch his face, feel his lips beneath your fingertips. You wanted to leave with him in hand as much as you wanted to stay in that moment and ignore the fact that this was to be one of many times when he’d be taken away from you at a moment's notice.

“I’m sorry I missed Christmas,” he said, finally breaking the quiet between you.

You gave him a half smile, “I kept the lights up for you.”

“I would’ve called if I could,” Frankie said, his voice thick with emotion. “I missed you so much.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with eyes shining with tears. “I missed you too.”

You were tied to him now, you weren’t going anywhere. Anywhere he went you knew you’d follow. Whatever plans you’d made for your future were gone on the promise of forever. If he said jump you would say how high. 

You curled your finger around a curl at the nape of his neck, his forehead pressed against yours. You wanted it all with him and then some. You didn’t know then the cost that would take. But for that moment, it was just the two of you.

“Let’s go home,” you whispered, the word ‘home’ feeling more real and comforting than ever.

“I need to do something first,” he said softly.

Before you could ask what, he dipped his head capturing your lips with his, soft and gentle at first, as if getting familiar with one another for the first time again. Before the overwhelming need to make up for lost time urged him to deepen the kiss. Frankie's hands held your face gently but firmly, his thumbs stroking your cheeks as if he couldn't bear to let go.

You didn't know how much time had passed when Frankie pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours once more and you blinked to regain your focus.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, his voice a whisper. 

You smiled, your heart feeling full. “Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” you assured him.

#december x 500 #frankie x mav #frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #jfrankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction

[kitakashi]

Cursed

Kuroo Tetsurō x Reader

Soulmate AU

born from conversations with @shoulmate 💚 (not edited or beta read)

Warm sand tickled the bottom of your feet. Digging your toes deeper into the beach you watched your friends play volleyball from your spot on a towel.

University finals were over. As soon as the last exam finished you packed your bags to join your friends for a much needed vacation.

You sat beside Kozume under a large umbrella enjoying the salt air and the crash of the waves. And of course the view of swim trunk, baseball caps, and sunglasses.

Kuroo, Bokuto, and Akaashi were shirtless and sweaty only a few yards away. Alongside other friends the bunch of you had made at Tokyo University. But those three in particular were the sweetest eye candy.

Your fingers slipped under the thick wristband you wore to cover your soulmark. Rubbing the name if your soulmate unconsciously, until Kozume cleared his throat giving you a look. Adjusting your sunglasses on your face you pretended not to notice his stare.

Your friends knew you were one of the few with a soulmate, but you had never shared with them who is was. Kozume, however, was too observant and you suspected he knew. Gratefully he never said anything or pushed you about it.

It happened right before you started high school. You were with your parents filling out paperwork after moving to a new area. Scrolling endlessly on your phone, bored out of your mind, when the skin on your wrist exploded in pain as if on fire. Gasping you cuddled your arm to your chest, tears pricking your eyes.

Curious faces turned towards you. Some confused, others shocked at the outburst. It wasn’t until your parents pried your arm from your body did the realization finally set in. You had gotten a soulmark.

Having a soulmark wasn’t common. Most people knew someone in their extended family or group of friends who had one. They appeared randomly during your mid to late teens if you got one. And not everyone saw it as a blessing.

The mark was a name. The name of your soulmate. But your soulmate would not have a mark. Just having the mark didn’t mean they were close by or did it mean you’d ever meet them.

This caused a lot of problems in relationships. Either you held out for a soulmate who never came or one would randomly pop into your life after you had already settled down with someone else.

But your teenage heart had high hopes that couldn’t be dashed by your parents’ realistic and logical words. It wasn’t that they weren’t happy for you. They just didn’t want their precious child’s heart crushed by this Kuroo Tetsurō whom they didn’t know.

You met Kuroo right after starting high school. He was a year above you. And he was perfect. Handsome, funny, athletic, intelligent, talented, and kind.

Well, you didn’t actually meet him. You heard the name Kuroo Tetsurō and your wrist throbbed alongside your heart in excitement. You rushed to tell him who you were.

That’s when you realized it was no blessing but a curse upon your wrist.

Kuroo was a member of the volleyball team. A second year pillar of the team. Relied upon by his seniors and juniors. His athletic prowess alone was intimidating. Yet he was also studious, beloved by the teachers. He was surrounded his teammates and by fans. Pretty girls, handsome boys.

You tried to worm your way through the crowd to talk to him but the glares you got stopped you in your tracks.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” A voice snapped.

An elbow dug into your ribs, “we were here first.”

Wincing you took a step back from the throng of people. Clutching your arm, you rubbed your wrist. An action you always seemed to do to quell your anxiety. You looked for another way through the crowd. It wasn’t as though you had to tell him today but you wanted to be with your soulmate as soon as possible, believing in a happily ever after.

You could see his head above the others. If only you could get Kuroo’s attention somehow. Trying again to squeeze through the sea of people it wasn’t until someone grabbed your arm did you stop.

The girl had wrenched your arm back trying to see your wrist. “Oh shit you have a soulmark!” You panicked trying to pull yourself free. “Lemme see who it is! Is it one of the guys on the team?”

Ripping your arm back before she could see the name, you gave her a nasty glare. But the damage had been done. Curious faces heard her exclamation and turned towards you.

Another girl lurched towards you and you took a step back. “A soulmark? How neat!”

“Seriously?” Her friend looked suspicious, “she’s gotta be one of maybe 5 people at this school.”

“Who is it?” Someone curious spoke you couldn’t see, “whose name is her mark?”

Nearby a girl scrunched up her nose in disbelief, “Really. Idoubt it. Probably wrote it with sharpie.” She rolled her eyes and the people around her laughed.

“How pathetic,” another scathing voice, “who would want to be tied down to her?”

You couldn’t even see the people laughing at you anymore. Nails biting into the skin of your wrist, you hugged the name Kuroo Tetsurō to your chest. If your legs didn’t give out, your lungs would. You couldn’t breathe.

“I feel sorry for her soulmate.”

“Make her wash her hands and prove it’s real.”

Their words cut deep. Self deprecating thoughts filled your mind. You knew they were just petty but you couldn’t help the tears from forming. Suddenly you didn’t want to meet your soulmate. A burst of strength let you rush off before they could see you cry. Later you thought of ways to hide your mark.

Somehow you had made it through high school without anyone finding out the name on your wrist. A thick wrist band covered the name and you never took it off unless to shower.

A feat especially hard after befriending Kozume Kenma. You shared class with him all three years. After finding out the two of you enjoyed the same video games, a friendship grew and solidified. Unfortunately, that also meant that Kuroo was part of your friends group. Your soulmark wasn’t done cursing you.

Even without the soulmark you liked Kuroo. You couldn’t meet his sharp feline gaze when he seldom spoke to you. Just being around him made you rub the skin beneath the band on your wrist uncontrollably. Your face felt like a furnace anytime he caught you staring, and you stared a lot. And smiled. You didn’t even realize you would just have this dopey grin on your face. Not until Kozume pointed it out. Another reason why you think he knows.

And because of your cowardice, you had to watch Kuroo date other people. You had no one to blame but yourself. But every time you thought to end your misery by spilling your secret, you imagined him asking why it took you so long. Or that he only saw you as a friend.

The feeling of a hand on your arm snapped you from your inner mind. Kozume had grabbed your wrist to prevent you from injuring yourself. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d rubbed the soulmark raw. He called your name and you met his worried golden eyes.

“Sorry,” you tried to laugh it off, “I was spacing out.” Kozume frowned. He opened his mouth but you stood cutting him off. “I think I’m going to wade in a bit. Try and cool off some.”

Dusting off a bit of sand you made your way to the waves without waiting for a response. The water was cool as it gently lapped at your legs. A shiver went down your spine at the temperature difference between the ocean and the hot sun.

A figure sliding beside you made you jump, slipping on the wet sand. Grabbing the person who startled you to avoid plummeting into the ocean, you weren’t expecting intense yellow eyes to stare down at you.

“I scare you that bad?” Kuroo cackled. “I did call your name you know.”

He helped you stabilize yourself and you regretfully released his bicep. The raven stretched, joints cracking. You did your best to not completely ogle him from behind your shades.

“What are you doing over here? I thought you were playing volleyball?”

“Drink break,” broad shoulders shrugged, “gotta stay hydrated.” Kuroo had the gall to wink at you.

You nodded, staying silent. Gazing at the open ocean, unsuccessfully trying to quell your beating heart. Cold water splashed your sides. You shot Kuroo’s smirking face a glare.

“What’s on your mind?” He splashed you again. “You’re even more quiet than usual.”

“Quit that,” you scowled.

He wiggled a finger in your face, “now that’s not very nice. I’m just trying to be friendly.”

“You have plenty of friends to bother.”

“True,” he acknowledged with an obnoxious grin, “but I’d rather bother you.”

You rolled your eyes, splashing him back. Glancing back at your friends you saw Bokuto animatedly telling a story keeping his audience enraptured. Snorting you shook your head, guess Kuroo really was free right now.

“Hey,” squinting you looked back to Kuroo who was pointing to your wrist, “aren’t you worried about the salt water eating through that?”

Tugging at the wrist band you shrugged, “I guess. But it’s not like I can’t get another one.”

“Why not take it off? We are on vacation after all. And who knows you might even meet them here.” Glad Kuroo wasn’t looking at you, you couldn’t help but squeeze your wrist. He was gazing out at the ocean but continued, “if I had a soulmate I know I’d be trying everything to meet them.”

“You don’t seem to need help in that department. You’ve always got girls around you.”

Kuroo frowned looking down at you. “And if you haven’t noticed, not once has any date worked out.”

Snapping the soggy wrist band against the soulmark you couldn’t help asking, “what if…” You floundered uncomfortable under the raven’s intense gaze. “What if, when you met them, you didn’t think it would work?”

Dark eyebrows skyrocketed over his sunglasses, “you’ve already met them? Did you tell them?”

You flinched from his incredulous tone, avoiding meeting his eyes. Shifting your weight you rubbed harder at the name on your wrist.

“Hey,” Kuroo softly called your name, “talk to me.” Why did he look so sad? Not knowing what to say, how to explain, you didn’t speak. He pushes his shades to the top of his head to look at you better despite the bright sunlight. His voice was gentle, “why do you think it wouldn’t work?”

Salt stung at your wrist as the flesh peeled from the harsh friction. You knew you were standing in the surf but it felt like you were being dragged down to the ocean depths.

Kuroo’s body was completely facing you now. You had his full attention. No calling of his name by Bokuto could distract him from you. His rough fingers caressed your arms, trying to keep you from a panic attack. Tears pricked at your eyes.

“I’m not,” you choked out, stopping to clear your throat, “I don’t think… I’m just, just not. And he, he’s… amazing.”

Fingers slid up your arms to grab your face. Both of Kuroo’s large hands cupped your jaw as he looked at you sternly. “Stop that right now,” he growled, “anyone would be lucky to have you as their soulmate. If you don’t stop with this bullshit I’ll start listing reasons at the top of my lungs.” You gaped at him. “I’ll sing them too if it’ll stop you from crying. Poorly I might add.” Using his thumbs to wipe your tears running from under your dark sunglasses, he kept speaking. His voice softer now, “I mean it.”

You couldn’t help but stare at him. He was leaning so close that your noses almost touched. Yellow eyes deeper and brighter than the sun baring down overhead. A mixture of sweat and ocean spray glistened on his skin. Already messed raven hair held down by his sunglasses and whipped every direction by the cool breeze.

“What if it was you,” not even sure he could hear you, you whispered, “what if my soulmate was you? Would you still want a soulmate then?”

Kuroo took a shaky breathe, licking his lips. Using his thumbs, he slowly pushes your shades to the top of your head. “If it were me,” fingers gently traced your jawline, “I’d want to know why you didn’t tell me. If it were me, I’d kiss you until we were both breathless. If it were me, I’d make sure we were never apart for the rest of our lives. Because if it were me who had such an amazing soulmate, there’s nothing less I could do than give you everything.” Hot breath danced across your lips. His golden gaze searching, with a prayer held inside. Reverently, he whispered your name. “Show me, so I can finally kiss you.”

Biting your lip, you fiddled with the soaked wristband hiding your soulmark. Hands shaking you held your wrist up to him. A moment passed before he realized, you wanted him to remove it. One hand moved along your arm while the other rested against your neck. Silently searching your eyes for permission, he removed the offending cover.

There on your wrist, was his name. Kuroo Tetsurō.

Not a moment later was his mouth on yours. And the soulmark curse trapping your heart was finally broken.

#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu x reader #soulmate au #not edited or beta read

[sycamorelibrary754]

Whoopie!

Summary: You decide to play baker while Yelena is at work and you’re stuck at home recovering from an injury. A fluffy sugar rush ensues. 

Pairings: Yelena Belova x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Angst

Word Count: 2k words

Warnings: A tiny bit of angst, but with a happy ending. Mentions of injury. 

A/N: I had so much fun writing this! I took from my own experience as a dessert lover with a tendency for sugar rushes. Plus, I like the idea of Yelena saying whoopie lmao.

You were starting to go stir-crazy. You scrolled through the channels on the TV for the third time that morning; having watched every episode of Friends on Netflix. You were recovering from a gunshot wound to the shoulder and a few lacerations from a mission that went south last week. After surgery and a week in the Med Bay, Cho cleared you to continue recovering at home.

You felt like you were ready to get back to work in some fashion, but Yelena insisted that you still rest at home. This was her first day back at the compound since your surgery, so you knew she was going to call soon to make sure you were okay and not over-exerting yourself. You were about to give up on something to watch when you came across an episode of The Great British Bake Off. You have seen the show a couple of times. Wanda convinced you to watch it with her when you were on an undercover mission together. 

You had a major sweet tooth and everyone on the team knew it. You were the only one who had a penchant for hiding candy in your suit pockets. Nat was furious that one time you tossed her a gun during a fight, and instead, she caught a Twinkie. Subliminal messaging being a powerful tool, you were now craving something sweet. You get up carefully, mindful of your sling, and make your way to the kitchen. After unsuccessfully locating any candy, you grumble and start to walk back toward your bedroom when you remember The Great British Bake-Off.

You fancied yourself an accomplished baker. You made Christmas cookies for the team every year and pastry chef-quality cakes for birthdays. Thinking it over for a moment, you set about locating ingredients and the KitchenAid stand mixer. Your girlfriend couldn’t be mad at you for being up and about if the stand mixer was doing most of the work, right? 

You look up a couple of recipes on your phone and decide to go with red velvet whoopie pies. Not only would they be delicious, but you wanted to do something sweet for Yelena. She wouldn’t admit it, but you knew she had been terrified from the moment she heard the gunshot and found you on the ground clutching your shoulder. Yelena has done a brilliant job taking care of you over the past week. Helping you wash your hair in the shower and get dressed, both now a challenge with only one arm. You wanted to show her how much you appreciated it, and baking was one of your love languages. 

Flour, baking soda, vegetable oil, eggs, sugar, salt, buttermilk, and vinegar. The KitchenAid mixer blended the base, and then you added in the red food gel. As the batter started to turn red, you heard your phone ringing in your sweatpants pocket. You take out your phone and are greeted with your favorite picture of Yelena staring back at you. You smile and slide your finger across the screen. 

“Hi, Yelena,” you said, putting the phone on speaker. 

“Hi, detka. How are you feeling?” Yelena asked. 

“Alright”, you sighed. “Although, if I see that commercial for Rogers: The Musical one more time, I’m going to come down there and punch Cap in his stupid perfect face.” 

“Hmm, I’ll be sure to tell him how much you miss him”, Yelena said sarcastically. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I left some of the pain meds Cho prescribed for you on the counter if your shoulder starts getting cranky. I know it’s hard with only one arm, but have you checked your stitches today?” 

“I did, everything looks good.”

You turn the mixer on high to better incorporate the red food gel. 

“What’s that sound?” Yelena asked. 

“Oh… nothing. Just the TV, I’m watching the Food Network,” you fib. You wanted the whoopie pies to be a surprise. Plus, you knew your girlfriend would kick your ass for not resting if she found out you were currently playing baker. 

“I should be home in a couple of hours. Natasha is going to help me write my overdue mission report from the day you were injured so I can get out of here sooner” Yelena said hopefully. 

“Sounds great, I’ve missed you”, you admitted. 

“I’ve missed you too, malyshka. Get some rest, and I’ll be there soon to snuggle”.

“Looking forward to it! See you later, love.”

“Bye,” she replied

You put your phone back in your pocket and get back to baking. Once the batter is completely mixed, you use an ice cream scoop to transfer the batter to the trays and pop it in the oven. 

You then get to work on the filling. Butter, cream cheese, powdered sugar, marshmallow fluff, and vanilla extract. You give it a taste to make sure it’s right. You hum in delight, and have to stop yourself from eating the entire bowl of cream filling right then and there. As the round cakes are baking, you take a seat on the sofa. Fanny hops up next to you wanting you to pet her. Not caring that you only have one good arm. 

“I think your mom is going to love the surprise, what do you think?” 

Fanny tilts her head engagingly back at you. 

“Me too. Or she’s going to curse me out in Russian for not resting. Either way, we get dessert”, you say before kissing her on the top of the head. 

When the oven timer goes off you remove the pan from the oven and leave them to cool. You decide not to disobey Yelena completely and go change your bandages. Thankfully it was your non-dominant arm that took the bullet. By the time you’re done, the whoopie pies are cool and ready to be filled. You scoop the filling onto one cake and top it with the other; smiling to yourself when you finish assembling all of the whoopie pies. 

You put the eighteen whoopie pies in a Tupperware container in the refrigerator and take a seat at the counter. You glance at the clock and realize that time does fly when you’re having fun. Yelena is due home in 30 minutes. It’s then you notice the discomfort in your shoulder has grown into genuine pain. You pick up your prescription that she left out for you and a glass of water. You are about to take it when you notice the label on the pill bottle says they must be taken with food. 

You groan and slump down in your chair, not having the energy to go find something to eat. Maybe Yelena was right, you shouldn’t have over-exerted yourself. Then you remember the whoopie pies. Okay, so they weren’t exactly the healthiest partner for your pain meds, but they were fresh. You grab one of the confections from the refrigerator and a soda to drink. After you eat the whole thing, you wash down your painkillers with some soda. 

Hopefully, the meds would kick in before Yelena got home. It was true, you were an Avenger, but you were terrible at hiding things from your world-class spy girlfriend. You sit back down on the sofa and start scrolling through your phone. You can't help but look back up at the refrigerator. Maybe one more whoopie pie wouldn't hurt. After all, you did need to keep your strength up. You grab another one and another soda and walk back to the living room. Fanny watches you intensely as you enjoy the second dessert. 

“Fine, one little piece. Don't tell Mom” you relented, as you tear off a tiny piece of the red cake and give it to the dog. 

When you’re done, you sigh and drag your hand down your face. Your baking escapade was the most energy you had expended since your injury. Not wanting to head back to your bedroom yet, you make yourself comfortable on the sofa. You get settled with your favorite blanket as Fanny cuddles up at your feet. After about 20 minutes, you notice the pain in your shoulder has almost completely subsided. Pleased with yourself, you do a little happy dance while still seated. You turn on your favorite playlist and can’t help but stand up when the beat drops on your favorite song. That little happy dance soon turns into full-blown one-armed dancing and singing. All of that sugar finally going to your head. 

You’re so engrossed in your sugar rush, that you lose track of time. You don’t hear the jingle of keys or the opening of your front door. Yelena stands in the doorway watching you before finally interrupting and scaring the living shit out of you.

“This is what you call resting?” 

You jump three feet before you realize it’s not a threat. “Yelena, you’re home! Woohoo! Happy dance!!” you shouted as you start dancing around the room. 

“What is happening? Have you been sampling my vodka?” she asked, her eyes following you around the room.

“What? No, I just had a snack! Two snacks… Well, dessert. Oh, and sodas! See, I wanted to do something nice for you because I know you've been worried about me since my injury and I love you, so I made red velvet whoopie pies!” you ramble a mile a minute. 

“Calm down… you made what now?” Yelena asked with a furrowed brow.

Red velvet whoopie pies! Soft rounds of red velvet cake with cream filling in between!” You run over to the counter and pick one up to show her with a child-like grin on your face. 

Yelena stares at you with a blank expression for a few seconds before launching into her native tongue. 

Tebe polozheno otdykhat', a vmesto etogo ty provodish' ves' den', kricha! Vy s uma soshli? Vas zastrelili. Chto delat', yesli shvy razoshlis'? YA ne khochu snova okazat'sya s toboy v Med-Bey. YA znal, chto mne ne sledovalo ostavlyat' tebya odnu.

You are supposed to rest and instead, you spend all afternoon making whoopies! Are you crazy? You were shot. What if your stitches split open? I don't want to end up back in the Med Bay with you. I knew I should not have left you alone. 

“Does that mean wow, you’re amazing sweetheart I’d love to try one?” You questioned with a giggle from the sugar rush.

“No”, Yelena said softly as she walks over to you. Her eyes meeting yours with concern. “You should be in bed”.

“Just try one for me pleaseeeee”, you said with your best puppy dog eyes.

“If I try it, will you rest?”

“Absolutely, for sure, of course, affirmative, by all means, certainly, yep, very well, okey-dokey, yes.” Happily bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet.

You hand Yelena a whoopie pie. She eyes you up and down curiously before taking a bite. 

“Well?” You ask with a smile.

“It’s very good”, she said, wiping cream filling from the corner of her mouth. But you can see a smile pulling at her lips and you know she loves it. 

“I knew you'd love it!” You say doing a little dance and raising your good arm in the air in triumph. 

“Fine, it’s delicious. Sweet, just like you, malyshka”, she admitted.

“Whoopie!  It’s so cool, right?”

“Yes, your little American whoopie is so cool,” Yelena agreed patting your cheek lovingly to get you to focus on her. “I’m going to shower and get changed. Will you please go back to bed now, detka?”

“Yes, ma’am. I could do this all day!” You joked in your best Captain America voice. 

Yelena rolled her eyes. “Now I’m going to punch Cap”, Yelena grumbles before turning around and walking towards your bedroom.

You start to follow her before you pause to quietly reach for one more whoopie pie. 

“And no more whoopies!” She yelled without turning around. 

“Awww!” you whined.

You finally get back in bed, admittedly starting to crash from your sugar rush. Yelena joins you after showering and changing into sweatpants and one of your band T-shirts. She climbs into bed beside you and wraps her arms around you gently. 

“I’m the best baker on the team…,” you mumbled as you start to drift off. 

“Yes, deka, the best baker on the team”, Yelena agreed. “Get some sleep now, whoopie.” 

#mcu #yelena boleva x reader #yelena belova x female reader #the avengers #fluff #comfort #angst with a happy ending

[marypaol]

My Hurting Heart

Aang x Fem!Reader

Summary: Before the team faces the Fire Lord before the eclipse, Reader sees Katara and Aang kiss.

Warnings: Self doubt, negative mindset, loads of angst, crying, kissing, mention of war, mention of loosing someone, mention of death, I think that’s all :)

Note: This is new!! I normally write for Draco, but I had to write this story I came up with because I love the show.

Reader is nicknamed “Flower” so no use of Y/N

Masterlist

Request Requirements

@roseeyyyiee I saw a post of yours wanting Aang x Reader :)

Katara’s hair was in her face. Now, it wasn’t something that the girl didn’t necessarily dislike; it smelled like salt water and her father’s leather uniform from carrying him earlier, but the way it tickled her nose was something she didn’t exactly enjoy. On the contrary, she did kinda like the fact that Aang’s nose was brushing the skin of her shoulder, his breathing fanning her neck as the team embraced for what they feared would be the last time.

Doubt crowded their hearts and minds, the hands of anticipation squeezed their throats until they couldn’t breathe.

Who knows what would happen after they broke apart. Would Sokka’s invention idea suddenly go downhill? Would Katara get hurt on Appa, and would be unable to water bend? Or wound Toph get stuck in a bunch of rocks she couldn’t control? Or worse, the girl thought, would she loose Aang?

The last thought lingered as so did their touch as the group separated.

Hakoda emerged from the submarine, his hair breezing at his cheeks.

He announced everyone back in, and the group followed his orders, the girl thinking Aang and Katara followed them.

She thought she heard their soft footsteps, or rough feet of Katara running to ride Appa. Or the snap of Aang’s glider as he prepared to go the Fire Lord.

But sometimes even her mind played tricks on her, and the things she thought she heard didn’t occur.

None of them did.

“Hey, flower, go check on Katara, she needs to fly on Appa in order for us to move on.”

Sokka’s voice rang in her ears, her stomach twisting as she realized her friend wasn’t on the armed bison yet. Her feet hurt as she climbed the ladder to the hole, the sun almost blinding her as the darkness of the submarine flooded with light.

Her lips parted after her tongue escaped to lick them, vocal cords ready to call out Katara’s name.

Instead her mouth was opened more in surprise, doubt swarming her stomach, thick and hot.

She disturbed them just in time to see the back of Aang’s head close to Katara’s, a soft gasp escaping her when his lips pressed to hers.

He pulled back, hands going to his glider as it snapped open, the blue flags of fabric spreading out. The noise echoed in the girl’s ears as the boy took off, the air and him becoming one.

At that very moment, the girl couldn’t think of anything else as she watched Katara look off into the distance of the sky, most likely with flushed cheeks after the previous events.

The girl’s chest suddenly hurt with a sharp pain. No, not her chest, she thought, hand going up to squeeze the fabric of her shirt, her heart.

Her heart hurt. And she knew why.

She cleared her throat, her friend whipping around, expression flustered but cheeks back to normal color.

“Sokka told me to tell you to get going if we wanna move on.”

The girl’s voice hasn’t sounded any worse. Her throat was cloudy, imaginary hands gripping her vocal cords. What was heard was a soft hurting voice, almost inaudible.

But Katara heard it well and clear, her head nodding as her mind quickly focused on something else.

“Right, don’t worry I got it.” She said, running towards Appa.

The girl wasn’t so lucky, the picture of the two repeatedly playing in her mind.

She nodded back even though Katara was long gone, head dipping into the submarine as the cap closed loudly behind her.

She saw Sokka flinch from the noise. “Flower, why’d you let it slam!?”

He might of said something else but she didn’t get to hear it, hot tears not only clouding her vision but all her senses.

She didn’t know where to go so she went to where the water benders would be steering the submarines, since there wasn’t anyone in there at the moment.

There she curled up in the tightest ball she could, feeling like a child crying after their mom yelled at them.

She did feel yelled at, like the world finally yelled the fact that Aang would never love a girl like her. She was the alive and breathing opposite of Katara.

How could he like her? When she thought about herself she couldn’t think of one thing she liked. One thing Aang would like.

Because when he looked at her he just saw the girl who couldn’t bend anything, the girl who just was good at plans but most of the time they went with Sokka’s anyway.

Why was she even trying at that point. Trying to thrive in the group was hard enough, and trying for the Avatar to like her was like trying to get a pig to fly. Impossible.

So the girl stayed there, and later found a secret cabinet in the ship that she hid in while the water benders did their thing.

The tears were still flowing endlessly, her sobs only letting out when there was a loud noise to cover it up.

She couldn’t feel anymore alone.

Katara didn’t care about her.

She cared about showing the power of women and the Avatar saving the world.

Sokka didn’t care about her.

He cared about Suki and his sister.

Toph didn’t care about her.

She had other things to worry about, like her parents and her previous royal life.

And especially Aang. He didn’t love or care about her.

He loved Katara, and cared more about the water bender more than he could ever care about the girl crying in the submarine instead of fighting the Fire Nation.

He wanted someone who was brave and tough, someone Katara was and she wasn’t.

She sniffed loudly, and thankfully the water benders didn’t hear her but a small part of her wished they did.

At least then someone would show a speck of care she thrived for.

She wanted someone to care, to love her, but Aang wasn’t that person as she hoped he would be.

“Flower I feel you under there.”

She gasped at the voice, knowing all too well that it was Toph because of her feet being her eyes.

“Go away; aren’t you supposed to be helping the earth benders?”

Worry gripped the girl for a moment, scared that Toph and the team somehow failed and she came to tell her that the Avatar is dead for good this time.

Toph chuckled, sensing the girl’s worry with just her feet.

“Yeah, but I noticed you were gone…. Well Sokka did because I can’t see you. But I wanted to look for you.”

The girl wiped her eyes, thanking God that Toph couldn’t see her tears. And praying that she couldn’t sense them.

“There’s no use getting me- I’m no help to the team anyway.”

Toph blinked, seeming to be looking off into space but the girl knew she was listening.

“Yeah you are, flower, without you Twinkle Toes would still be a nervous wreck.”

The girl thought back when she assured Aang that he was ready for the Fire Lord, despite his nightmares saying otherwise. What she told him was true, every word about him being strong and brave and all the other things she told him.

“Katara would’ve said those things too.”

Toph shook her head, hair strands moving in front of her face.

“Not as good as you did.”

The simple sentence reassured her for a moment, but that didn’t change the fact that Aang didn’t feel the same way.

“Doesn’t matter!” She suddenly exclaimed. “Aang kissed Katara before he left so that means that he loves her, not me, so if anything I am useless and stupid because if he doesn’t love me than I don’t know what I am. What am I, Toph? I’m a nobody without him. Without him, I feel empty, and stupid, and lonely, and unhelpful and unloved, and-“

She was babbling on so much she didn’t notice the tears blurring her vision once again, her cheeks soaked from the liquid of doubt.

Toph reached out for the girl, grabbing her hands and held her once she found out where she was.

Toph shushed her sobs, rubbing her back as she placed her feet on the ground, so she could sense that if anyone was coming.

“It’s okay, Flower. Twinkle Toes will realize what he lost.”

The never ending tears soaked the earth bender’s clothes, but neither of them cared.

“He’ll never even notice. I was never his.” The girl whispered.

“Not true.” Toph said instantly. “And if his stupid brain doesn’t realize it I’ll make him.”

The girl let out a very small smile into her friend’s clothes.

Thanks for reading! 📖

#avatar aang #avatar the last airbender #avatar #netflix avatar #aang x reader #atla #atla zuko #avatar live action #atla aang #prince zuko #sokka #toph #katara #avatar last airbender #avatar imagine #aang imagines #Aang stories #kissing #rejection #one sided love #hurt/comfort #angst #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #imagines #stories

[gelu-the-babosa-multiversal]

I just had another thought about Charlie's jealousy. He would totally be jealous of Captain America acting like a father to Cody, since he thinks Steve is cooler, more capable, and he thinks Steve and Cody have more in common than Charlie and Cody do.

And it wouldn't help that Cap is biologically younger than him, despite actually being much older. Since he looks more like he could be Cody's dad than Charlie would. (I still see someone calling Chief Cody's grandpa at some point, adding salt to the wound.)

Fortunately, Steve would assure him that he isn't trying to take his place as Cody's dad.

OOOOOOHHHHH this would be sad man!!!!

If someone confuses Cap as Cody's bio dad it would be if it happens outside of Griffin Rock or an inside joke between Cap's peers. Someone calling Chief Cody's grandpa would nerve the rest of the team.

Things like maybe Cap letting Cody hold his shield (Black Panther is looking in the shadows), taking the kids to rides on his motorcycle, retelling his veteran stories with Bucky and the Red Skull... there are so much more interesting than waiting for your dad to come back from work tire and having no time for you.

But

Steve is a good man, he would have nothing but respect for Charlie. A police officer that takes care of an entire island full of dangerous technology/people. An old man that should be retired at this point but still keeps going. And of course, a loving father.

I wonder if Steve could form such a friendship with Charlie that would make him wonder if they could have been good pals if Cap never got trapped in ice.

I do wonder how the rest of Cap teammates would react to this. Laughing as a one-time joke I think so, but after learning how complicated Chalie and Cody's family is, they might suggest Steve to keep his closer to the Burns to the minimum, including for their protection.

Because you know... Hydra and Zemo are out there looking somewhere to hurt Cap...

I actually don't know if say that Griffin Rock is under SHIEL radar or they didn't know about their existence until the Avengers arrived on the island... or SHIELD is sending all that wacky tech to the island 🤔

#ask #thanks for the ask! #au #crossover #maccadam #tf #transformers #rescue bots #transformers rescue bots #tfrb #rb #my stuff #idea #no ships just platonic friendship #cody burns #chief charlie burns #chief burns #charlie burns #angts #steve rogers #captain america

[rise-my-angel]

One Last Drink

Pairing: Ezra x Female Reader

Length: 15.8k

Warnings: Angst/hurt comfort, threats of violence, implied threats of abuse, kidnapping, hostage situations, morally ambiguous behavior, possessive behavior, smut, oral (f and m receiving), p in v, rough sex, biting during sex

Notes: This is a bit of a darker Ezra, but most of the trigger warnings are mentioned either in passing, or in implication not directly mentioned. Takes place after the film.

The longer you sat at this bar, the more you felt a growing sense of isolation. Sure not all of your new team members agreed to meet here, but some of them had. Yet it had been an hour and not a word from any of them. Instead it was just you, sitting against the counter mindlessly pulling away the salt decorated at the rim of the glass down onto the napkin it sat on. Occasionally you’d bring it up to take a sip, but the remnants of it still sat too strong in your mouth to enjoy the liquid.

You were starting to think they had invited you out as a joke. The new member of the team, unimportant and even warned most of them would delegate you to grunt work. Keeping inventory, cleaning equipment, only being considered useful when they needed medical attention. You were excited to find a job what took you off world for even a time, but maybe you wished the team you were joining shared your enthusiasm.

The bar was dingy, dark, and very likely not super clean but it also was as good as you get in this kind of area. A docking port nearby, the city centre was usually packed with people coming and going to the point it made you a tad uncomfortable. Even thinking about heading there just to leave for the job made your heart race a tad.

You at first thought they suggested this place because it was quieter and out of the way, a tactic to make you feel welcome, but now you were beginning to wonder if they sent you here, just so they could meet up in the dense sections of the city where you wouldn’t go.

Sure you didn’t know them very well, but it sure felt as if you should know them better then where you stood. Keamy, your team leader had given you the run down of what to expect, what everyone’s jobs were and what to look out for.

Well, who to look out for more specifically.

“Got an easy start, to raiders on this one but if harvest is good enough that I know it, means our competition knows it too.” A few groups were placed in this category, some of which sounded more threatening then others. You were sitting across from his desk, hands together in your lap, back straight while the large man was leaned back in his far more comfortable chair.

One knee over the other and flicking his pen up in the air. “Couple guys give us more grief then others. One dude, ‘bout my size but never shuts the fuck up. Good at tricking people into giving him what he wants, could talk you into bed if you let him.”

You didn’t though, miss the pause as he looked over you with narrowed eyes before glancing away with a disbelieving eye roll. Blood cooling down to a point it send shivers through your limbs, you tried to remember that you needed to cooperate. You didn’t need Keamy to think much of you beyond keeping you on contract.

Flinging his legs onto the ground he stood up, making his way to the makeshift bar sat at one corner of his office. “Usually travels with this big fucker, doesn’t talk. Wouldn’t be surprise if the fucking ogre didn’t know how.”

Watching him round the bar, you saw him flip the cap off some unknown amber liquid before raising it up with an eyebrow as well. Shaking your head no, his already unpleasantly expressed face fell more unimpressed, but relented as he continued. “The others’ll warn you about him but if you ain’t got a gun then most of ‘em will leave you alone. It’s the talkers you got to look out for. Charm a naive little thing like you into an early grave if he can.”

Some of the men he described in appearance, others he had record photos for but it all just melted together in the sea of too much information. Now you were alone and dreading the weeks you would spend alone with those who couldn’t even bother to keep appointment. The rest of the team didn’t appear to be much in the way of enthusiastic either.

Though, you suppose it made sense. Most of you weren’t complete employees of the company hiring you, just individual contractors who need money damned of how. Keamy was the one who had final say and he would set out with the rest of you, but now you already began feeling that dread of wanting to be home. Not one foot set off planet side, yet the dream of coming home already felt heavy in your chest.

Luckily, the bartender seemed to have been content with leaving you alone in your sulking little corner barley making progress on the one drink you slapped your first credits down on. Had it been almost two hours by now? Half an hour? You wouldn’t sleep well tonight, so may as well stick around until you finished the dark green liquid swirling in your glass or you spent so long sulking the bartender kicks you out.

Your communicator in front of you blinking messages that felt too depressing to open. Notifications that of your team confirming when to meet tomorrow evening in the port, another a sad notification from the renters informing you of an interest increase by the time you’d be back. No one wishing you luck, or telling you to be safe or even congratulate you on finding a job that gets you off this dark, dirty rock.

Eyes trained on the foggy liquid, time spent untouched now separating from top to bottom. No doubt needing a mix before attempting even another sip. Seeing no one approach, hearing no one nearby, you only flickered your eyes up briefly to see the bartender nod at someone behind you before turning to make something.

Which was when a warm feeling washed over part of your back and side just as a looming figure obscured your already dim light. A voice drawled deep in your ear, sending another shiver down your spine making you sit up straighter. “Salt’s supposed to take the edge off you know, not get knocked off the edge.”

Not yet turning around, your voice felt heavy with led staring forward. “It’s too much, can’t taste the drink with all that.” Your nerves shivering more as they chuckled deep, just as warm sounding as their close proximity felt.

Moving more into view however, you could see a tall figure slid around to lean his hip against the bar counter, arms crossing his chest. You didn’t look at his face yet, just hiding a little bemused smirk at his tone dropping to something more casual. “Syrup’s all the way at the bottom, jem. Not sure you’re going to taste anything on that next sip leaving it like that.”

Well, he did have a point. Pushing it away with your finger, it nudged barley a centimetre but the liquid sloshed around enough to stir it up slightly. “Probably, yeah.” Your heart beating a tinge fast at the unknown, you braved the move. Turning slightly to the side, you had to look up more to find his face as he stool taller then you.

A broad chest at your biggest sights, shoulders wide with a tee shirt that stretched across his torso up to a thick neck that ended high with scattered facial hair. Some dark, almost black in the lighting, and greys scattered throughout up around plush lips and ending at a coarse moustache beneath a strong well framed nose.

His eyes however, caught you more. Large and wide, the darkness much more prominent swimming in it’s colours then anything else. But flashing behind them was something that felt like intrigue but unsure of whom. Your own, or his. His gaze was intense and unblinking, sending you into a brief worry of how rude you were being.

Moving to stick a hand out, you very quickly felt one hand twitch before forcing the other up. One arm was the same size as the muscular original on the other side, but covered in a smooth metal. Such prosthetic were available, but only the vastly rich usually could afford to have skins artificially grafted onto it and hide it’s origins. Still, it was well made. Certainly someone affording a luxury as that had no normal place in something only the bottom feeders like you could afford.

But regardless, you knew some held offence at shaking with their metal arms so you quickly made sure to not look quite so pathetic so early on top of rude. That plush mouth forming into a delicious smirk he grasped your hand firmly. Trying to appear in control you realized he was not returning the firmness that you were, much unlike Keamy days earlier who all but crushed your hand in his shake.

Nervously you laughed, letting go of him entirely as it slunk back into your lap. Palm resting flat across your thigh as you looked anywhere but those eyes shining with amusement. “Sorry, uhm, force of habit, sorry.”

Oh he chuckled one again, and this time he sounded even closer. His now free hand rested on the counter top right by your glass as he leaned into the top of your head. “Now, now. No need for any of that. I’m not judging someone pretty as you by her lousy grip, we can fix that.”

The deepness in his tone felt like there was something else there but you were in no head space to match words to the dark look penetrating your eyes. “Sorry, did you want something? Or, no, do you want to sit down?”

Smile never quite leaving his lips, he tilted his head in agreement before taking the stool next to you height still intimidating even as he was level with you. “I’d ask if you were around here much, but judging by how long that there,” his hand pointing to the drink, “I’d say you aren’t much of a drinker. So I’ll ask a better question. What’s a pretty jem drinking all alone like this?”

A flush growing inside your chest, you tried to consider he was just a random hoping to pull you into his bed and kick you out just as quick. Wasn’t that what so many novels taught you? If so, why did you still bit your cheek at the word pretty?

Glancing to him and back at nothing once more, you shrugged. “Was supposed to meet some people here, thing’s came up so now I’m-”

“Lying to a new friend about being abandoned.” You whipped over to see his raised brows, almost smug at his assumption. “Little thing like you, probably don’t feel comfortable over in such a bustling city scene so they choose a down trodden locale and ditch you to have far more fun with the other degenerates who crawl about there.”

There was a deep tinge to his accent that you had no clue where it would have come from, but it sounded soothing attached to a slower cadence like his. Your mouth was parted slightly as you swallowed down your embarrassment. “Probably.”

You were not doing a fine job giving as much as you were receiving in conversational skills. But the flutter in your chest might have something to do with that. Not that he seemed to mind. “Well good. Means I get to get nice and close to you instead.”

Just then, the bartender returned with two drinks. One a thin bottle of sorts, the other just a clear liquid that he sat in front of you. Pointing to the green untouched one, “You about done there?”

Mouth opening and closing to find the least offensive way to say yes, the man next to you took the reigns for you. “Not much of a drinker she is, probably not a good way to ease into it either. Just add it onto me.”

Nodding, he turned away with little fuss, you slowly picked the glass up peering into the no smell it gave off. Small sip you deflated at the clear taste of fresh water. Well, more fresh then what normally was available. “Thank you.” Though it did occur to you that not only did you not ask for it, but it was brought over with the man’s own. Turning to him suddenly, you almost jumped in place finding him looking at you still further. “Sorry, I never asked your name.”

“Ezra.”

Smiling somewhat you returned yours, enjoying the sound of it slipping soothingly off his lips before soaking them with a swig of his drink. Just then however, his own communicator went off. Taking a minute to let him check, you quickly put your own into your jacket. A preemptive hope that maybe you indeed found some form of company for the time being.

Turning back, he gave a look of remorse. “Forgive me, just a little bird begging for my attention is all.” A flip switched in your heart at the realization, but it must have shown too clearly on your face as he started to laugh. A metal hand reaching to rest gently on your upper arm. “I do mean little, fear not. Cee’s still getting used to her new school and I’ve gotten nothing but many earfuls about not being around to take her for the weekends.”

Tilting your head genuinely, you could see a fondness in his held back smile that spoke volumes of affection. “Your daughter?”

Another smile, this time attached with it being a long history that was not the time nor place to discuss here. “As good as. She’s under my care now, though I am hesitant to grace such a title onto her without permission. She’s a complicated one.”

For a little bit, you felt like the evening was just as planned. Sitting around at the bar, listening to a stranger open up. Ezra clearly adored the teenager, smiled all the way through the many stories he wove about her person. Apparently he had started her in a school, “Her father hadn’t exactly treated her with the gift of a proper education. So she has a few years of catching up to do.”

She apparently would board for the week, and then go home with Ezra on Friday afternoon to be at home. “Get’s mighty upset when I have to leave for work those days, not that I can blame her. I sure do miss her when she’s gone too.”

Nodding, your fingertips danced along the rim of an empty glass. “It’s probably good for both of you. I don’t mean to overstep anything, I just mean, you said her father was kind of overbearing?”

Ezra’s eyes darkened to something else, but shook away as quick as he could blink. “You could call it that, yes.”

Biting your lip in thought, you treaded slowly. Things unsaid were on the side of painful rather then irritating here but you meant no harm. “Then letting her be at school, have a weekend or two just to hang out be around other kids instead of being dragged along to a job? She probably enjoys herself once she can move past being upset.”

You couldn’t get enough of the gentle smile on his lips thinking about the girl. Claiming not to be her dad, but he sure looked proud like one as he gushed of her accomplishments. “I reckon you’re right, jem.”

Was it hours or mere minutes that passed between then and now? If your sense of time was to be trusted on face value, then it felt as if you went from discussing each other’s little lives like casual strangers to now in seconds.

Ezra’s broad chest pressed up against your back as you stood by the jukebox. The little corner of the building was not well lit, little people coming over for any reason and yet even if they did? The bar was not the kind of place that you suspected looked down on such displays. His hands holding your hips in place just as you went to turn around, the feeling of breath hot on your neck having startled you into a jump.

He chuckled deep into your ear as he ran his nose down the side of your cheek, his metal hand squeezing tighter then the other in a possessive way you couldn’t tell if you liked or not. He certainly seemed to think so. His other one, fingertips rough as they slid just under the bottom of your shirt.

Breath hitching in your throat, eyes fluttering he ran them over the soft skin of your stomach with no shame for the plushness he found. If anything, he only held tighter, pressed closer to the point you could feel his hips press into your ass. The heavy weight of a bulge just enough to boil your blood at how much those jeans must be hiding.

Voice deep and vibrated through your ear down the length of your torso to settle between your legs as it smoothed over you. “We could dance here, but I have it on good authority that my own abode is close by and child free. Could do any kind of dance you and I desire, jem.”

Leaning back into his touch somewhat, you felt him sink his fingertips tracing just over the waist of your pants until you nodded. “Yes, please.”

Inhaling deep through his noise, his jaw clenched at the airy tone of your voice. “I can’t decide if I want to hear you sing with such manners for me more, or fuck it out of you completely.” Shivering in his touch, he seemed to know your answer. “Maybe a bit of both.”

Leaving your stomach to cup your chin, he pulled your head back at an awkward angle, not that he minded. Pressing his lips harshly to yours, your quick gasp had Ezra lick inside your mouth. Forcing you to accept the wet swipe of his tongue against yours as he held you against him as if letting go would send you melting to the floor.

There was a greed in his kiss, a warning that he might not let you go if you grant him more and more of you. But seductive enough to lure you into such a trap willingly. He kissed you like a lover in the dead of night but out for anyone to see. Did he not care, or did he crave others to watch what he had. Sensing your own insecurity however, he pulled away a grin of his lips before pressing a final to your neck.

The city felt nicer with his arm resting on your lower back. Slow strolling to match the paced drawl of an accent you were becoming addicted to. Neither of you in a hurry to get there despite the urgency to leave prior, it was like the calm of night painted something softer in between the frenzy.

He wasn’t wrong, not too far away from the bar was a set of rowed homes, tall stairs leading upwards to the base level ones and off to the side were spiral stairs much higher to the balconies above.

Leading you up such a spiral, Ezra stuck close to you the entire time his hand hovering over your back. Flexing to itself with want to just yank the fabric over your head now, but restrained with a tense jaw. Having to satisfy his eyes just looking over you, planning where to tease you most.

You could feel the gaze, the darkness looming in his eyes behind your sight and forcing your heart to race as you considered what he could have in store. What a tryst like this would be like, one last leap before heading out the next day for who knows when, not knowing if a future even exists once you return.

Not bothering to move you, Ezra just reached around you. Pressing you close to the door as he unlocked it. Eyes looking down your form the entire time. As soon as the lock clicked, he lost the last remaining patience within him. Hand still on the doorknob, he shoved it open and you inside with a noticeable force.

Stepping in, he slammed it behind with another quieter click to trap you both within the heavy bubble between you. He didn’t ambush your lips, but with his hands. Yanking your shirt up, his teeth were gritting, nostrils flared as he looked over your torso, having pulled your bra up as well in his impatience it seemed.

Still not quite at the ready, he next wasted no time in pulling down your pants as well. Almost knocking you over in the process he just took off everything you had throwing it to the side in irritation of it’s very being.

Looking up to you, his dark eyes were nothing but a black you could fall into a trance with. Rising up to his full height, Ezra captured your cheeks in his hands, yanking your mouth back to his and pressing you tight against his chest. His metal one taking advantage of it’s grip, sliding to the back of your neck and keeping you against his mouth, turned to angle you so he loomed over you. Biting hard at your bottom lip, the resulting gasping whine letting him slip his tongue into your mouth once more.

He couldn’t decide it seemed, to taste your mouth with his tongue, or bite at your lips until they pulled and bled. You could already feel the sensitive skin ripping at such a force but you could only hold onto his waist, nails digging into the bare skin his rising shirt granted you access too.

Free arm wrapping around your waist, turning you in place to walk you down the hallway not once letting your lips go free. Skin heating up, you felt as if you were being dragged down into a sauna emminating only from him alone. Hands, as if desperate to cure such temperatures started pulling up on Ezra’s shirt as if his bare skin was your salvation.

In a way it was the complete opposite. The feeling only growing worse and worse, feeding into a hunger that usually didn’t exist with you but here this man was. Biting and licking into your mouth as if to leave his mark for all to see. Hands moving down to grab at his belt, Ezra suddenly yanked you off of him. A trail of saliva trapped between your lips only to snap as he tossed you onto the bed. More like pushed, but the metal arm seemed to hold more strength then one might have assumed.

The bounce and softness underneath almost made you giggle, yet Ezra caught the look in your eye. A raise of his own eyebrow, he slowly moved to undo his belt buckle. Slowly, dark eyes following the path of yours down his chest to a softer stomach that only let you peek at what he had for you underneath.

Swallowing hard, the lump in your throat had you unsure as to where you wanted him first. Sliding up to the foot of the bed you let your legs hand, pressing your palms to the comforter and looking up at him almost innocently. Were it not for the clear lack of clothing.

A grin slowly formed on his face, making sure to take his time pulling his belt open, undoing the zipper millimetre by millimetre. “As much as I’d love this mouth, jem-” his fingers trailed up to pull down at your swollen, and bite littered lips before tilting your chin up to look at him. His other hand pulling his jeans down to reveal the nothing underneath. Not that such a grip on your face let you look down just yet.

“I’d much rather have one last drink.” Leaning down he pushed your knees apart as he settled onto his own. Your heart raced at the broad man moving his head down between your legs, only to flush at how casually he winked at you for such a stare. He focused little on his amusement of you at that point.

Large hands gripping your hips and yanking you to match up to his mouth, it caused you to fall backwards. Bouncing off the mattress with a gasp. He didn’t go right for you. No, he had more to do then taste, he was a biter. And your inner thigh was like leading a harvester to aurelac. No choice, no ability to turn away from such a treasure.

His teeth though, were sharper then on your lips. Crying out instantly, your hands gripped the sheets above you tightly. The sting as he moved from closer to your knee right up before your pussy before running his tongue along the indents. Back arching at the wet trail along such marks only to have no reprieve as he kissed the other knee, and sunk his greedy bite into the fresh thigh. There was no touch, to brushing, no trace along your slit, just a harsh attack on your skin that made him grin into it each time your cries mixed with a whining moan.

You would've felt embarrassed at how wet you were, no hiding the sight from Ezra who kept his eyes trained on every single part between your legs as if a feast were before him. In a way though, of course it was a feast his mouth was watering for it. Finally leaving one last bruising mark so close together, he turned to look at you. His eyes admiring the view before leaning in, pressing his nose against your mound as he inhaled.

Your face burned, covering with your hands at how unashamed he was for such an act. One hand pressing against your clit with his thumb, and his other yanked your hips up to his mouth proper as he licked you from clit to inside of your walls.

There was no preamble with Ezra, no teasing build up for this. No his mouth and tongue licked and tasted as much as he seemed to be physically capable of in a manner that took your breath away. Quite literally, you could feel your lungs shrink, chest tighten and air failing you more and more as he licked inside of you.

The coarse facial hair and moustache rubbed against the highest peak of your inner thighs, scratching red and even leaving such a rough feeling on your cunt itself. He knew what it did, and just as he licked up to your clit, he nuzzled into you like a madman. Burning you more, even on top of two others.

His hands pushing your legs as open as possible and the soreness of bites that would no doubt look like a violent attack to anyone whom would see. Not that anyone but this man would for a long time. His fingertips rubbing and pressing hard and tight circles into your clip had sparks fly inside of you. You may have jumped in his touch were his grip not so iron clad.

A coil inside of you twisted and turned so tightly that you weren’t sure if it was his mouth, or the pain he inflicted before hand. Both was a reasonable answer, yet pain had never been something you could get so worked up from ever before, not even considered. Back arching in pleasure he had the audacity to smirk.

Muffled voice just slow enough to ensure you could hear him, the voice rumbled against you only adding to the sensation. “I said I wanted a drink, jem.” Licking up to your clip you yelped as he nibbled ever so lightly. His movements stopping demanding you look.

Sweating just as you were with his facial hair already covered so much it made you feel ashamed for what he was doing to do. His eyes, were not joking in the slightest. “You don’t get my cock until you cum twice. We’ll be here all night if we have to, but I’m a greed man, jem. You give, I take. Got it?”

It should scare you, such possession should be terrifying and yet you couldn’t fathom the concept. A nod and a pleading, “Yes, anything, anything you want, Ezra. Please,” His eyes didn’t soften, but a smile made it’s way onto his expression in gratitude.

“A good girl with good manners,” leaning back he dove back into your cunt with now both hands holding you tightly at your hips still speaking. But your ears ringing from the pleasure coursing through your veins like wildfire couldn’t hear the words. His mouth was aggressive, if what before was a meal this was a man starving for a will to live found only in the fountain between your legs.

Faster and faster it approached until like a band snapping it hit you straight in the chest how much you needed to cum. Unthinkingly writhing into his face he pulled you into his mouth with another yank but didn’t slow down whatsoever. No, he seemed to want more. He couldn’t be serious about twice you thought.

Oh how you thought, and the impressiveness in how quickly such an idea faded away in his pleasurable touch. The white noise in your brain seemed to overtake you, letting your orgasm flood both your nerves and his mouth but he never let you come up for the air you needed.

No he spoke almost more into your cunt, unable to stop talking to himself singing praise of taste and greed like you were all he required. Did your orgasm stop and rebuild quick, or were you too lost to notice it never stopped until the second one slammed you out of your body.

Two thick fingers rubbing against your clit almost too hard, but he pushed you and took what wetness your orgasm graced his taste buds with. Sweat accumulated on both your bodies, and the blonde streak of his hair stood out as it soaked against the brown curls and clung to his forehead.

You cried out, whines muttering into soft moans until the pant of lungs in need of filling took over what was left. Only then, did his actions slow to gentle licks. Jumping in shock of too much, he ran his hands over your thighs. Letting go of his tight hold and soothing you just above the bites. “Just cleaning you up, jem.”

He pressed a kiss to your clit, making you bite the lip he no doubt tore open and then kissed up your stomach. Ignoring how stilted you became at the location, he pushed on. Up between your breasts only to pause. Eyes glinting like a greedy child, and thus pushing himself up by his palms now on either side of your arms and using such vicious teeth to bite and tug at your nipple. The other breast tightly groped with and dragging out more breathless cries.

Finding any kind of strength to chuckle, you reached down to run your hand through his sweaty hair, nails scratching at his scalp soothingly as you tamed it down. A vibration against your chest came out of him like a growl, pulling his mouth away from your nipple to playfully glare up at you. “You better enjoy that now, jem. ‘Cus I ain’t going to be so generous in a few minutes.”

Your eyes widening as your hand paused mid movement. That glare on his face turned to a sadistic smirk at how innocent your surprise was. Knowing you should be double guessing this encounter, the greed, the roughness, the possessive way he manhandles you, all would be red flags were his voice, touch, skin, mouth, cock all addictive like the substance so many of your profession rely on.

Could you just bring him with you, and there would be every vice you could need. Ezra you suspect, would willingly give it too. Nothing but stinging, sore marks on your body covered by his saliva and the Green would be ever pleasant in comparison to the tole he so pleasurably takes.

And take did he ever. Before you could lose yourself to such thoughts, Ezra had flipped you over onto your stomach. Taking the air out of your lungs as he did so. With his own grunt, he then yanked up your hips pressing you right back up against his cock. You couldn’t even remember at this point if he had always been naked or if you were just falling so deeply out of it.

You couldn’t see from your position, face pressed into the soft sheets as you turned to the side trying to gasp for breath but you sure felt the thickness slide between your legs. Running along your soaked entrance, it felt as if his cock went on forever. Heavy between you, no doubt his size would be intimidating had he let you see it for yourself.

But Ezra was far to preoccupied running his length along you, soaking him while teasing pushing him each time his head barley pushed in before leaving once more. His voice was rough, shattered as if words were being forced through gritted teeth. “Arms above you,” complying, you slid your hands up the sheets until the were stretched just under his pillows. “Hold onto something, jem.”

He gave little warning off anything else, just the right amount of time for your hands to fist the sheets under them before your body jolted forward. His cock sliding inside of you, sinking as deep as he could in one rough thrust as you gasped loudly.

The stretch was something else, a burn that you could be feeling for long after even if things ended right now. Two strong hands at your hips kept you pressed in place for mere seconds before he decided he was unable to wait.

Thrusting with a rough intensity you couldn’t tell if it was pleasure or pain he was giving you, nor did you know if you truly cared. There was a firestorm in your blood that flowed through your limbs and made everything tighten and constrict inside you. His cock running right along a sensitive wall inside you had you crying out. Barley moans, or even whines, but gasps and shock at how hard his cock both fucked into you and the force of your ass being slammed against his hips.

You could barley hear Ezra over the sound of your skin slapping against one another, something you imagined the entire street must be able to hear along with your cries. His cock slid so deep and barley even tried to pull out much. Little by little Ezra tried pulling back more but just to yank you back onto his cock even harder.

Tears welling up in your eyes, nails digging so hard into his sheets they could have ripped. His metal hand left your hip and ran along the length of your spine until they reached the back of your neck with a bunch of your hair now in his grasp. Pulling it back you definitely whined as he pulled right as he did the same with your hips.

His cock a relentless roughness inside of you, neither of you sure if it was just how wet you were, or a mix with how much precum he already had been leaking that made it so slick. Ezra knew from his own sight that his cock was covered in both, and a pride that he made you so wet that someone of his girth could fit so well inside of you.

Squeezing him tightly, you either just barley could handle him or maybe it was a fit crafted by the powers above. A message that the only place worthy of you, is his cock. Thrusting hard, his hand either pulled your hair or pushed his palm against the back of your head to brace himself as he swore.

He shouldn’t be so close, but you were close and it just drove him towards that creeping edge. You tightened and clenched around him with barley any words capable of coming out of your mouth beyond begs of his name. He had to fuck you harder, just to get as deep.

Like a slap to the face, so did your orgasm hit you from nothing. Creeping up in an instant, a tightening inside you snapped and attacked every inch of your nerves. White noise both in your ears and in your veins had those tears fall freely along with moaning cries that never stopped.

He kept fucking you, no change in pace in fact just a tad faster yet as hard as before. Before the shocks of your orgasm even simmered in your body, Ezra pushed you down into the mattress, his body heavy draped across your back as he moved to leave your hair and wrap it around your lower stomach and press his palm heavy into you.

His cock pounding hard, much more shallow but with a pace that filled the room with such an obscene sound it made Ezra clench his jaw before biting down to your neck with grunts. “All mine, gorgeous cunt made just for me. Right, jem?”

What were you agreeing too? You didn’t know, just nod and let his fucking careen you right back towards another orgasm. The pressure of his cock so deep and his hand pressing at your lower stomach multiplied the electricity stabbing at you.

Ezra kissed and licked your neck up until he took your ear into his teeth. Words panting hot from his mouth, higher in pitch and more breathless the more sporadic his thrusts became. “Let me paint you, jem. Mark you with my name, sign yourself and this beautiful cunt over to me.”

Pressing his head against yours, you nodded barley. “Yes, please.”

Just as your final orgasm flooded your body like water rushing forth, Ezra pulled his cock out as he throbbed inside of your walls. Almost too late, some of his cum spilling inside of you before most of it spreading out on your ass and lower back.

Your own orgasm had you laying in wait, boneless as it took whatever energy was left in you and replaced it with an addictive pleasure that left you foggy. You could feel Ezra press his cock between the cheeks of your ass, almost running through them like he did the walls of your cunt. Spreading his cum as much as he could, hand leaving your hip to run across his work and paint you to his ownership.

It was much later when you properly came back to yourself. Body sore, and covered in cum from your tits to your thighs you weren’t sure how many times Ezra fucked you after that. You dropped pretty hard, all you knew or felt, or saw was Ezra and that’s all you needed.

Now, the nightlife outside was likely dead, and finally creeping your eyes open you saw Ezra also under the sheets, facing you with a hang on your hip gently. Reaching up you tenderly ran your fingers over his facial hair, thumb tracing his cheek as you did so.

He had insisted you sleep tucked warm in his arms, a kiss that you’d only ever read between the words of chaste lovers pressed to your lips as he cradled the side of your face. For everything, you looked at him and smiled. Something about the man left you unwilling to see danger others like him presented, and an affection that begged you to take more of.

You did however, need to use the washroom. Very slowly, at first not to wake him up, but also the only speed the immense ache in your muscles could work past. A dash of luck on your side, instead of reaching out and forcing you with him, Ezra just grumbled. His brows narrowing in annoyance even in sleep. His hand on your hip just sliding to press down on the bed where you just were and scrunching the sheets up in his fist.

You had to leave tomorrow night, but as you left the washroom whatever plans you had about what was to be of you and his man were shattered. It was an accident, honestly. Your hip had accidentally knocked over papers precariously balanced on top of a thin cupboard.

What you felt as you bent down to look at them, was how much of an idiot you truly were. The name, the appearance, both markers you were told but never considered. Not until you saw work permits, forms, and statements of his employs before now.

He was one of the prospectors Keamy specifically had warned you about. One he called dangerous, and unstable willing to do and take whatever he wanted. Your team leader looked you right in the eye and told you that should you encounter him, to leave the confrontation to them. Not to get anywhere near such a snake.

Heart beating much faster the normal in your chest, you felt like a traitor. Ezra didn’t tell you what he did outright but maybe the signs were there and in such a naive state of temptation you were too enamoured with the intensity he doted on you with.

You didn’t pick them up, or even do anything. You knelt there for a moment before whipping your head to look a the man still slumbering. Such a peaceful expression past the tenseness. Soft features that had run over you skin and lips with reverence now mocking you for not recognizing them as what was described to you as the enemy.

Scrambling to gather your clothes, you only put them on as you left the bedroom. Going through the pitch blackness of his home until you reached the front door.

Tinge of guilt hit you, but looking at at the door, you also realized the second way in which you should be embarrassed. He picked you up at a seedy bar. In what world would such a strong, handsome, brazen man want anything to do with the likes of you beyond what you could do for his cock.

He got that, and if what Keamy said about such a person was correct, he wouldn’t even want you here when we wakes up anyways. It was a fight not to let the tears hit you, but once you got home and into the shower, you could pretend such tears were such strands of shower water already hitting your skin.

Letting what remained of your naive stupidity wash down the drain before skipping everything about sleep or routine. You packed for departure, and by the time the rest of the team got to the port you had long since been waiting.

Just the foolish romances of a stupid girl trying to be replaced by the determined tenacity of a member of this team rearing to go. You thought of Ezra as the main ship took off, the muscles on your body ached and the burn between your legs still sparking you with the phantom thickness of his cock.

Even if he wouldn’t remember you past that night, you still thought of him.

The air in this place wasn’t toxic, but it sure wasn’t what you’d refer to as breathable. Oxygen masks covering all of you, it took a few tries to match voice to face. As you predicted, the team mostly knew each other already. Jokes, rough housing in off times, inside comments that you weren’t privy to, but you also sure weren’t welcome to be part of it.

You kept inventory, did their grunt run around work, patched them up when asked but you for the most part were stuck in the back. Watching them engage in their spoils both in harvest and after. Night’s were usually quiet for you but now it was a constant fest of testosterone that felt more braggadocios then it warranted.

“Mutt, you want to get your head out of your ass and re wrap this?” Head whipping up from the notebook in your hands, Faraday stood a few feet away raising his bicep up to you. Your nickname was far from welcoming, having been accidentally tripped on the day landed day and landing in a mud pit leaving you looking like a stray mutt according to the team.

You questioned whether any of them remembered you even had a first name, but silently nodded as you knelt down to stash the notebook away in your pack before swapping it for your field kit. It had been weeks on this little moon and you were starting to get used to it’s heavy air.

Having to stop and refill your oxygen filters more often then not simply due to how much you had to breathe in to keep up. Keamy had assured suits would not be necessary, but you’d take a suit right now over these masks. You couldn’t see through them and half of the men on this team looked like each other.

Faraday didn’t even glance at you while you worked. Uncaring of the slow, gentle movements of your fingers and feather light prodding at the cut to ensure it wasn’t infected before replacing it with a clean one. You asked him to wear long sleeves to make it harder for dirt to get in, but you didn’t have a voice beyond “Yes, sir.”

To your luck however, the current onslaught of behaviours around you had thoroughly distracted you from that night. Keamy had presented himself as stern but reasonable, but now working at his side you see the truth. He is ruthless, emotionless, and comes close to using violence anytime his calm disposition didn’t scare you into silence. You could only imagine what he would do finding out that the weakest link slept with someone whom you know understood was someone he truly hated.

Night’s spent telling stories of past incidents with other prospectors and Keamy had enough about Ezra to fill any normal person with nightmares for years. Though, it did feel on the air of hypocritical, considering on some planets Keamys stories of his own would have him considered a war criminal, but hey he stood behind the title of mercenary. He excused much horror under that title.

Faraday strode off as soon as you were finished, leaving you amongst much of the gear to pack away while he ran over to a few of the others to do whatever they did while you did your job. On the bright side, at least you had time to yourself to look at the beauty of such a planet.

The heat bearing down making your hair accumulate so much sweat it poured down your face, soaking the strands like a shower head as you worked. You considered stopping to put your hair up, but with both your hands encasing the various jems collected in their proper storage it was just something you’d have to live with.

A far cry from weeks ago when you felt such euphoria that time seemed to stop in the dead of night.

What even was there to say about your work? A lack of interaction, feeling constantly out of breathe and covered in grime and each night having to spend an unusual amount of time in the set up shower just to accomodate the marks between your thighs. Washing around the stinging teeth marks unsure if you wanted them to just disappear already or preserve them for the only glint of joy you had in years.

You were a mess, in more then just skin deep. How on earth did one night that meant nothing to the other party leave you scattered and dreaming of that night as if it could or would ever happen again.

If Ezra was anything like Keamy, you were just a commodity to get off with. That’s it. Hell, you had been suspecting none of these men on your team even said or looked at you in such a way because you were just unattractive enough to not be worth the effort.

Ezra must have been in a real dry spell to settle for you. Even those who speak of women like they are nagging flesh lights can’t be bothered to look your way in a gross manner.

Not that you wanted it, but it sure made you feel like a child with a silly fantasy for wishing Ezra’s painful bite marks on your thighs would stay forever.

However many days later it was, you were once again off to the side. Refilling your field kit before heading out for the day as the others already masked up, gathering their plan outside the stuffy air of the tented enclosure. You didn’t even bother putting on your comm yet, it was too early in the day to hear them talk about whatever massacre they enwrathed on others years prior. You could not care less about this group the longer you went.

The world outside muffled as you meticulously organized everything. You took pride in how detailed you were, even if just for personal gratification. If you were so needed, Keamy would just slam his fist on the bar right outside the main entrance and shout at you.

Maybe, you should have paid closer attention just this once. Fluttering back and forth putting your things in your pack, scribbling on your notebook before tossing that in as well and securing your mask all in the span in took for whatever occurred out side the tent walls to escalate.

By the time anything came upon you, it was a shock unprepared for. Stepping out into the sunlight, you saw your team split between two spots. Three of them stood off to the side, hands raised, and one stray laid out many feet ahead of you in the path to a lush grove. Blood pooling by his middle far too much to be helped, but it wasn’t just such a sight that made you gasp.

Pulled back against a large figure and knife pulled up to your throat and a shockingly strong arm wrapped around your front, restricting your arms from rising to high in retaliation. The figure leaned down close to you ear, voice slightly more ting sounding from the shift of a communicator, but not one you had so easily forgotten.

“Now I may ask, what is a fine jem such as this doing with a group of mercs like yourself?” His voice and face so close to your ear, but dark eyes trained on Keamy’s whose blazed back in anger. It was only with the shift of Faraday beside him did you realize a man behind them with a thrower. Tallish with dark hair that was just as sweat filled as most others on this heat ridden rock, but nothing else which stood out.

Keamy was the only one allowed to talk, or perhaps just the only one in a position to talk back. “Just doing my job, Ezra. Like you. Or better I guess. Nice arm.”

It was possible he felt you stiffen uncomfortably in his hold. An odd thing to get offended on someone elses behalf given the situation. His chuckle though, was not the same one you heard many times so playfully in your ear that night. No this was hollow, devoid of feeling leaving just dust and rage in it’s path behind. “Gained a lot worth more than an arm that day. More then this lot has. Hauls not so impressive for how many of you there is. One might think jems aren’t what you’re here for, is it?”

His arm tightened around your front, keeping you close to both his chest and his blade to your neck. It didn’t press, but you felt it graze only when shifting around yourself. Keamy glared at him, “You holding my medic hostage because you think she’s worth that to me, or you just that desperate now that you’ve become a freak?”

In an instant, you tried to hold back a gasp as his hands switched. The blade now pressing between your breasts, placed so perfectly that enough of a good shove would slid it through the fabric and into the skin smoothly. His metal hand, now reached up grasping you by your throat, his head leaning over your shoulder but you stood still, too afraid to look anywhere but forward at the body far off.

Shivers shot down your spine as Ezra pressed the blade just enough that it scraped against your chest. A tiny tear right down the middle exposing the skin visible through the cut. “Now Keamy, I don’t have all day to play with you. I have much more important things to tend to,” the tip of the blade now running up and down the sliver of exposed skin. Only pressured to that of a scratched nail. “But I do find myself eager to indulge in a bit of pay back for the last time. Led to me becoming a freak afterall, didn’t it?”

Keamy, was quick to throw away an accusation you didn’t quite understand. “I didn’t do shit. You fucked up, so we fucked off. Anything that happened after that was your own damn fault.”

The thumb of Ezra’s metal hand traced over the very middle of your neck, unknowingly producing a grin at how hard you swallowed and shook at the motion. His eyes still didn’t go to you though, no you were too well behaved to run and you think he knew it. Just kept you hostage. “If I am to recall, you were the one making an awful fuss over trivial matters and I was unceremoniously kicked away for calling you out on it.”

Not enough of his body moved to have the men see, but Ezra very slightly pressed his hips to your ass with more pressure. His grip on your neck tightening at the whine wanting to come out of your mouth, and how little you understood where it came from. “I did come out on top now didn’t I? Aurelac, a nice new arm, and a life waiting for me out there. What spoils have you engaged in, Keamy? A low brow dancer only giving you the time of day because your stupid enough to let her overcharge you?”

Both eyes looked to him wide, and Keamy’s entire face twitched. Leaving it in a position that resembled a little too much like some wild feral creature. “Get to the fucking point. What do you want?”

If they heard the smile, they said nothing. But you did. “What you owe me, that’s all I want.”

The silence was deafening in the pause it took the man to contemplate. A silence broken by a snap of a bolt landing directly into Faraday’s head coming through the front of an eye. The hand on your throat sliding up to cover the scream no doubt wanting to come out. A deep shush vibrating in your chest as he consoled you like one would an animal. “Fear not, jem.”

How that was even possible you didn’t know. Nor would you tell him. And yet the touch now covering your mouth slid from claustrophobic to calm in a manner of seconds. Sparing such a glance you felt brave enough to peek, and there they were. Brown eyes dark and full of an unreadable danger, only to flicker to you with a different kind of flash not so volatile. A glint in them radiated at your own wide ones, before glancing much more casually up to your team.

“Here is the deal, I’ll be taking my share of the last job as what was owed, then I’ll walk in the other direction and we leave that mess behind us.” The other man glared over to Ezra who paid him no mind.

Keamy’s glare was harder. “What’s to stop me from shooting you the second you turn around?”

Pulling you closer to him, Ezra leaned close to your face. Should a mask not be there, you’d be able to feel his strong nose trace down the length of your cheek, and the bristle of facial hair that burns in it’s scratch. “You shoot me, I gut her. Bad business letting a fellow harvester murk one of your teams medics.”

Heart pounding in your chest, it was impossible to know if that was true. His greedy touch suggested not, but his words laced with venom spoke threat. Keamy, nodded though. Little care for anything which could get in the way of his own success, even if that was a temporary sacrifice.

His hand slid down finally, away from your mouth and back soothingly over your throat with a more gentle grip. “Now, we’ll be going one way. My companion here shall collect the payment and we’ll be on our way.”

Your head jerked to look at him, but he gripped tighter, a single barley audible shush leaving his lips as he did so. “Fellas.”

No speaking was done from any party as Ezra led you away, a knife still pointed at you despite the known truth between both that you would do nothing to tempt his temper. In fact no words were shared until the sight of a much smaller tent enclosure came into view. It felt so near to your own that a coincidence did not sit well in the put of your gut.

As you assumed the team dropped from view, so did the blade to your chest. Instead, sheathing the weapon to the guide you by your hip in quiet. Much like Ezra preferred to speak to your face then through a communicator, at least for you specifically. Like if he couldn’t spill forth temptation what was the point of wasting the difficult breath?

Stopping in front of the entrance, Ezra looked at you firmly. “If I let you go, jem, you going to run?” Once more you heard the smirk on his face at how diligently you shook your head no. “Good girl.”

Leaving your throat he opened it up to you, nudging you inside with a bump of his hip into your ass and one hand closing it behind both your figures.

The room looked much like the one you were in but smaller. A little entrance way serving as prep and storage and just ahead of it two cots one messy, one done neatly. Ahead a little pathway that served as a kitchenette one side and a little table the other with the shoddiest of stools you’ve seen and finally a simple washroom hidden by the end door.

Looking over with an eyebrow raised, Ezra yanked his mask off. Reaching for his belt he undid the filter hold with a grunt and tossed it to the side. Your body doing it’s best to pretend as if him reaching for that area in such a manner did nothing to your insides. He turned to you, hair sweaty and sticking to his forehead and his eyes a little more ragged then you once saw.

Pointing to your mask with a smirk, “You’re welcome to remove that.”

Hands hesitantly rising, they paused mid air to watch him move about normal as could be. Resting weapons right out in plain sight you swore to yourself for being such a coward. Worse, a coward who couldn’t hold her own in a fight even if death was the only other outcome. Allowing the journey to continue, you very carefully undid your mask and detached your filter.

Turning back and forth in place seeking a place to rest it, you sat it down beside where Ezra put his own on top of a storage crate much neater then his was thrown about. You wondered briefly if the messy bed was his, and heart chiding you for even caring.

Your hands remained wrung together in front of your chest as you turned to watch him. Like nothing was wrong, he moved about the food supply searching for something as if there was nothing of note about such a situation. Your voice small as it cracked out in the quiet. “What are you going to do with me?”

Turning his head, Ezra’s eyes were narrowed as if offended yet confused. “Right now, I intend on finding us something to drink. Lose a lot of water in this kind of heat, jem.”

He was so normal that it wasn’t normal. And you suspected that he was fully aware of such a fact yet didn’t move to ease your head whatsoever. Just pouring what looked like a filter of water into two cups and moved them both over to the table Sitting one down at the seat across from him and waving you over as he took his own seat.

Baby steps with your nails digging into the other, you eyed his aloof disposition. It reminded you of how casual he was that night at the bar. Just a handsome stranger looking for some company. His eyes squinted in thought as you sat down very slowly. Pulling your cup close and looking into it with a tensity in your veins.

“You watched me pour from the same filter, I assure you I have no intention of drugging myself just to make a point.” Biting your lip at such words, your nails rung against the cheap metal as if pointing to the other possibility.

Ezra, with a bit of a cheeky smirk trying to hide itself, leaned over the small table, taking a sip from your own and putting it back down without breaking eye contact. Deep sigh making it’s way out of your chest, your lips parted as you raised it for yourself. Pausing as you looked to his calm, unblinking expression take a sip from his own barley moving an inch.

The water did indeed, feel soothing on the back of your throat. Your first small sip turned into going back to down half of the drink in one fell swoop before dropping the cup on the table. Sighing much more relieved your eyes slid shut for just a second before reminding yourself of where you were sat.

Jolting in place, you yanked your hands down to your lap away. The absurdity that he could do anything less to you should he be able to what? Touch your hands easier? You knew without a shadow of doubt that he could overpower you so what did you even think was your defence. “Please don’t tell me it’s just a coincidence that you’re here, I don’t uh, don’t really think I could believe that.”

Brown eyes still squinting at you, he relents with a shrug and went for another sip. Twisting his body so he leaned back more comfortably, his legs spread out in front of him with his free arm resting atop the chair back. Hand like yours did, using his nails to tap at the cheap metal of the cup. “Alright, then I won’t.”

You hated that he just played the game. Sat in content quiet, letting you stew in the worst of outcomes or possibilities until you broke first. Which, you did. “Ezra-”

Oh to be such a snake, waiting for you to utter the first words only to interject overtop your voice. Not even looking at you, but around the small room glowed in an orange light. “Would it make you feel better to say I followed you here, or would it sound more poetic should I say I’ve followed you for far longer.”

Blood freezing in your veins you felt the limbs stiffening like a turn to stone. Eyes wide on his profile, you despised that it was his elegant nose and plush lips that you found your own eyes drifting towards unconsciously. Even when you did, still you did not look away and you had no clue what that was saying about you. “Did you?”

The plush lips now forming into a grin, his eyes crinkled with the movement in a manner once endearing to you. Now just filled with an unknown dread. “If you haven’t figure it out, jem. I’m not a man who chases.” Turning his head to look at you, the playful smile was there but a darkness fogging in his eyes that had you continue to form a statue in your body. “I’m one who takes.”

That he was. You had many questions yet none the answers that felt safe to hear. You wanted to just go home, back to your quiet life of nothing, hop from job to job, moon to moon and be forgotten by its faces just as easy. Your nails started to dig deeper into the skin of your hands, pain slowly replacing the sensation of pressure yet you pushed on.

As did Ezra, but for words. “I presume at this point, you understand what kind of person men like Keamy are. I do such things for myself. To survive to claim what belongs to me, not out of some twisted sense of joy.”

You weren’t sure if it was you that was shaking or just your insides. “What about me?”

Ezra however, did not let such a sinister feeling bloom on his face. No, rather the sight of a fallen guilt it seemed came over him. Chucking down the rest of his drink, he stood up. Pacing to the other side of the room before turning back to stare at a nothing on the floor. Hands on his hips, his lips pursed in thought. “Why did you leave that night?”

He still didn’t look at you, but his eyes were felt on you nonetheless. A compelling force wrapping it’s tendrils around the truth and gently pulling them up your throat and into the air rather then a desperate lie. “I didn’t recognize you until I accidentally saw some of your papers.” His eyes peered up at you but didn’t commit to facing you fully. “Keamy gave me the rundown of people that were supposed to be competition, and I just....panicked.”

“Panicked how.”

That roughness in his tone radiated through your heart, like a bar twisted and broken ready to snap at the slightest of provocation. You didn’t quite jump in your seat, but your heart did in your chest. Voice high and quick, defensive without offence to balance. “I thought I’d get in trouble if Keamy found out and-” You cut yourself off, but Ezra didn’t appreciate it.

Pacing over to you, he stood barley two feet from your own looking down as he now crossed his arms over his broad chest. Just a raise of one eyebrow.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you felt your eyes sting like a pathetic child. “And I didn’t think you’d want me around when you woke up anyways.” You didn’t look up to see the flames and anger in his eyes, nor did he speak to show you. So you kept going. “I’m not exactly a catch, and I mean- that’s fine, it’s whatever. Easy night for someone like you, but I didn’t think-”

“Didn’t think what? That I wouldn’t want to wake up with you in my bed to repeat that night all over again?” Eyes wide once again but you dared not look. He knelt very slowly to meet your eye level but had yet to take over your gaze. “I got a girl to take care of, jem. I didn’t bring you to my home just to kick you out the next morning. Not after all we did.”

Face flushing with either embarrassment or something a little warmer, only felt heated that much more as Ezra turned your face to look at him. Two fingers on your cheek firmly before dropping down as you looked at his inquisitive stare. “I just-”

Shaking his head there was a twisted pout present. “No. I don’t care what you were worried about, I care that you ran from me after letting me have all of you. That’s cruelty, jem.””

He was angry and dark, but eyes spoke of a distance that felt much more like longing. “I- I’m sorry.”

He kidnapped you, and you were apologizing. What sense were you truly making here?

Ezra nodded a few times, mostly it appeared, to himself. “Well, I have some things which require my attention. How about you head back there,” nodding over to the back room, “And alleviate yourself of the stink of today’s confrontation?”

Were your nerves not shocked to high alert, you might have smiled at the odd manner which he spoke in. Something that seemed to so hilariously blend between painfully normal, to aggressive and spitting and circle down to enticing and otherworldly. But the world currently spoke to you in anxiety, and your tongue remained stagnant. So your head did the speaking for you.

You didn’t really remember your time under the warmth of the shower. So often your turns were forgotten and there was nothing left in the water heater to sooth you. So your cool showers turned cold halfway through and left you scrambling to finish as quick as could be.

Ezra’s however was warm the whole time. No seconds in between turning from warm to hot even. A small group clearly having some perks over the swiftness of larger ones. Face having water pouring down on it, your thoughts dripped away with the water leaving your heart blank and your head empty.

Perhaps it was the only thing you could do. Let the possibilities die, so that whatever actual future he is holding over you cannot come as the worst case scenario. If there is no scenario then nothing can be worse. It was a long time before you emerged.

If you were thankful for one thing, it was Ezra’s courtesy to allow you however long you needed to pull yourself together. You should feel exposed, bare in this room for anyone to come in and attack, but should you be brave enough to glance down, you’d see between your thighs.

The bite marks still bruised into your skin at his deceleration of possession. He had been worse with you then then now, even though you were willing for those previous. Did you make any sense in your considerations or was that the confusion he was hoping to trick into you? Make you more compliant if you had no idea what to do or feel? Well it was working.

Even as you carefully pulled your clothes back on, nothing about your time in the shower gave you an answer, hope, prayer or even concept of a plan. You just had to hope that should the worst possibility be death, he wasn’t so cruel as to force it to elongate.

Stepping out, you saw Ezra organizing things on the previously neat side of the room. A travel pack with scattered items, used and new as he gently placed everything needed much like one of your own did before departing for such moons like this. He was at ease himself, shoulders light, hair now drying out leaving it thick and fluffy like you recalled. The perfect volume to run your fingers through, and even now the phantom curls raked through your skin like a ghost.

On the bed as well as a few stacks of what looked like basic clothes, and a refilled air filter. Looking up at you, he smiled wide. “Come here,” Nodding you over with a tilt of his head, Ezra continued to pack.

Your steps felt a bit easier knowing he was still not showing you the kind of terse aggression he had been displaying towards the rest of your own crew. If this was a long ploy, you were playing right into it but maybe for the sake of your heart? That was alright for now.

Coming up to a few feet away, Ezra paid no mind to the surprised yelp in your chest as he yanked you to stand pressed right up against his side. His warmth so much more prominent as the cool air hit your still wet skin. “I want you to look everything over, and tell me if there’s anything more you need.”

Eyes now flying up to his face, your lips parted in question and his brows narrowed in confusion towards yours. “For what?”

Looking playfully taken aback for a moment, his voice was once more low and drawled out. “You didn’t think we were going to stay here forever, did you, jem?” When you didn’t move, he leaned in to you, voice a whisper as he pointed over your shoulder. “That ain’t a bed I’m willing to take you on more then a few times. Got a testy back, jem.”

A wink and a hand sliding across your lower back you only froze. “You don’t think I’ll try to run?”

You didn’t dare turn to face him, but he sure was to you. His brown eyes boring into your back and his voice tight as if his jaw was clenched to the point it could snap. “You care about those vultures so much, you’re willing to run back into their arms? Knowing they’d leave you behind with me in a heartbeat? That is if they haven’t left already.”

Don't turn around. Do not let him see the tears welling up with impressive speed. “You kidna-”

He was sharp enough to make you jump at the cut of his tone. “I took what I care about away from what doesn’t. You wouldn’t have gotten naked in my shower if you trusted me so little.”

He sounded offended, and were you to turn around that hurt would also display on his face. Sharp looks now soft and longing with a loneliness. And you were just weak enough to fold should you fall into such a soulful trap.

He sounded a little far away, closer to the direction of the main entrance as shuffling movements added to the mix. “Cry, scream, run away if you want. But when I come back, I’m not letting you go, jem. Know that.”

The sound of the enclosure opening before sealing you inside with it’s quiet hum filled you. He left you alone with what you needed to run. So...why weren’t you? Why did you stand there, unable to find even a thought to focus your efforts on? He wouldn’t let you go when he came back and told you to leave before he does so.

But the bites between your legs stung. Whispered like a creature dangling on your shoulder as a guide, and your eyes fluttered shut at how much you screamed at the worst bites of them and yet how much it also made you gush. You hated that you stood like a fool, reliving the feeling of his cock stretching you to the point it was uncomfortable and yet that memory appealed to you more then running in the Green to a team who didn’t fight for you.

It all happened so fast, before you truly even were awake. At some point you had sat down on the edge of the cot, bag sitting on the ground in front of you as you contemplated what would be your fate either choice. At some point your eyes drew heavy, struggling to keep them open as your body filled it’s space with lead. Weighing you down and dragging you conscious mind into the black depth’s along with it.

You dreamt of nothing, or at least nothing that you’d consider important. Just a sweep of images that acted to distract what could be an impending nightmare, and for that you were thankful. At some point, you heard a voice but your dream gave it no thought.

A darkened whisper that felt hovering over you, and a musky wind drenching your face and forced something from your throat that could overpower it. But nothing came, and the dream felt like a figure blocked it’s sun as the deepest part of your mind struggled to climb out of sleep.

A tightening in your chest and muscles flexing as if a fight stood before you, but nothing connected together in such a state. Your legs, the arms, finally as if a burning grip on your jaw as the wind whirled almost in your mouth you could taste it’s toxicity. That wind spoke to you in words not comprehended, until your mind scurried out of the dream enough for your eyes to flutter.

And the strange ghosts across your standing figure now a jolt of pressure. One that send you flying back into the ground behind you and the insane your head slammed into the hard surface did you find your eyes torn open from such a pressure on your physical form.

Laying down you barley registered a figure on top of you like dead weight, but you did see the blood in your vision and it’s wetness scattered across your face as the sight came into clear. Before you could let out a shout in shock, the weight was pulled off you with a snarling sound.

Scrambling up once freed, you sat up with your palms hoisting your upper body to see Ezra yanking another person onto the ground and kicking him over with a fierce press of his boot.

Your voice felt pained, like dry wall scraped the walls of your throat and choked you from any depth in tone. Your scream was really a scratched gasp, a large chunk of the mans head missing as Ezra stood above with some kind of tool drenched in the red missing from the man.

Looking between them, you recognized it as the partner he travelled with. The one who stayed back to handle your crew as you were whisked away from and to things you didn’t understand. Ezra tossed the object to the side before looking over to you.

His chest heaving, nostrils flared with eyes doused in anger. But just as he found your confused and frightened ones did he lighten his. Coming down to cup your face in his hands, they felt rough in their touch but it soothed you for whatever reason. His body knelt to the ground as he looked over the blood that luckily, was not yours. “I told you to go, jem. Gave you everything you needed to return to your crew, and yet here you are in a mans bed that’s not my own.”

Breath caught in your throat you couldn’t move even if the fear left your frozen position. Ezra’s grip tightened as you tried to look over to the body once more, keeping you nowhere but his own.

“You’re lucky I came upon you when I did, kevva knows what he would have done without me to come across it.” Not letting you go, he kept you still to look over you finding nothing out of place or there which wasn’t put by him. “Stay here.”

Your body flinched only as he let you go, eyes now nowhere to look but the figure on the ground and the sudden parallelization of what might have just occurred, or about to. Before you could move closer to the edge of the bed, Ezra returned, a cloth in hand damp in appearance.

His touch was much more gentle this time, cleaning you of any blood. Breathing harshly in your face, his was not a wind that choked you but a gentle breeze that calmed you out of it’s care. It simmered the twisting in your head that you didn’t understand, even though why it did so also was something you didn’t understand.

Ezra spoke to you low, controlled in a way that spoke of how much effort was being put into his gentle touch to your face and jaw, cleaning without scaring you. “I’m going to get rid of it, then, we’re going to talk.”

No wait for an answer, no room for question. Just cleaned you off, then immediately moved to drag the fresh corpse out before it could rot the sensitive air you breathed. He took a long time. Long enough that once your heart settled back in your chest, you managed to stand on two feet.

It wasn’t so much exploring, as it was familiarizing yourself with the limited surroundings. Glancing at tools, and papers, and the minimal possessions brought with him. On his bed were three things which caught attention.

One you recognized, one you didn’t. The one you didn’t was unlocked. Peeking in a goldish glow flowed out of it’s light. Shining with aurelac in a modest abundance. The other, looked much like his, but larger and it was the one you knew too well.

Mindlessly shutting the smaller case, you pulled the bigger one to where you stood. Turning it on it’s side you looked down at the combination lock yet to be solved. Still in the same numbered order it was in when you closed it previously. Payment he said.

Something about ending a job with them badly and demanding payment, slowly you opened the lock up and suspicions confirmed. The entire lot gathered from your team. Something Keamy would not give up willingly, but it didn’t make sense. Why would he steal you away, then more payment then he needs?

Gently letting the lid of the case fall back down, your brows furrowed as you couldn’t quite put the pieces together of a game you had no hints for. The third object was easily identifiable but the most unusual.

It looked like a notebook. Lovingly worn and torn, you very slowly flipped the pages open to see hand written scribbles. The writing rather pretty for a man such as Ezra, and yet the words were quite good.

An elegant style that shined much personality and emotion. Names and tales of a story you didn’t know, this looked like a novel, or the makings of one. It was long, the early pages more passed over then the latter. Clearly a project long worked towards.

You could hear Ezra approach, but your eyes and brain were trapped. Fingertips gently holding the pages open as you read the lines over. His warmth and even scent something that wasn’t unfamiliar and for once so far, his closeness did not startle you. Nor did his voice, but it also wasn’t the anger or harsh manipulation of before.

“It’s Cee’s favourite book. Well, sort of.” Neither of you looked away from the pages, your eyes of curiosity his of fondness. “Without a copy of her own, she started writing what she remembered of it. Adding new things, characters, conversations what it would be like for her to be there with them along with it. Really made it her own.”

His fingers brushed yours, his torso leaned into you as he placed himself closer to see the words. “She found a copy of the real thing at her school, but they won’t let her have it. Kevva forgive a teenage girl takes something like a book home to cherish more then a dusty shelf.”

Shrugging, he pulled away. Looking at your distant face with his hands on his hips as he kept going. “I told her I’d love to read it, but for now, her own version is doing just fine in my eyes.”

Ask, your brain told you. Ask about the case, why he has all of your crews jems, what is to happen to you. You did none of it. “I never wrote anything near this long when I was her age.”

Moving in front of you, Ezra pushed the cases up against the wall. Sitting on the edge of the cot, arms crossed but without the dark, sharpened glare of suspension. No, his curiosity was again, much like that night in the bar. “You write?”

Shaking your head, you gently closed the notebooks cover. “Nothing good.”

A dimple appearing as Ezra grinned to himself, “So my Cee thought at first too.” The frown slid back though, looking down at nothing as his hands flexed to themselves. “Probably would have stopped all together if her father had anything to do with it.”

Nothing of what he spoke about the man that night told you they had fond memories but the way he himself looks when talking about her is proud above all else. “Does she want to write for a living?”

He huffed a laugh, “She’s fifteen and spent most of her life travelling around backwater moons like this. Girl’s got no clue what she wants to do.” There was no malice or judgment, just a fond smile still. You tentatively sat down beside him, not wanting to disrupt the softness. “It’s why I sent her to some fancy school. Give her the chance to figure out what she wants, even if it’s just for right now. Not many kids in this kind of life get that choice.”

Heart beating wildly, you were as soft spoken as could get. “Ezra, what’s going to happen to me.”

A man with a mind of wonders, he answered your question with a question. “I told you half the truth that night. About myself.” Turning his upper body to face you, he felt so much larger then you did. Like even sitting his broad frame towered over you with his dark eyes. “Me and Cee live over on Lorien. That junk rat planet you call a home is just where my, former partner, was staying.” His hand gesturing out to the unseen planet side beyond the walls.

Lorien was no joke. A planet side of the water, many homes living like their own island with a tunnel system interconnecting them. It was expensive, but quiet. The kind of money to live in a place like that and yet he sat next to you, as run through and grime covered as any other prospector and just as rash and dangerous. “Why-”

“We were going for a Queen’s Lair.” He didn’t look at you, and missed the wide look on your face as well as the twist of confusion once more. “I was hurt, told her to leave me behind. But she’s stubborn, went for the jems, and came back for me. And for whatever reason, decided that half that money was mine even though all I did was get my arm cut off. By her no less, I may add.”

There were details you couldn’t grasp, but if the gist of what he was saying is accurate, then a man such as himself as no reason to interact with someone like you. Let alone sleep with them, hunt them down, take them for himself or whatever this was. “Then why do you still...you know, do stuff like this?”

Smiling to himself there was a shimmer of brightness poking through. “Used to work with him a ton,” once more jutting his chin to the entrance. “Got himself into some trouble, loan sharks and the like. So he calls me up, asking for a favour to help pay them off his backs. Not that sharks matter on the Green.”

You didn’t ask, he didn’t say. Some things you were okay being in the dark on detail.

Inhaling, he leaned back grabbing the case that belonged to your team and tossed it into your lap. “I assume you already know what’s in this.”

Holding it in your hands you pressed your fingertips harsh against the metal. Your eyes narrow and jaw clenched as you contemplated your answer. “Just tell me the truth on one thing and I’ll never ask again. Did you steal it or did he?”

“Technically he did, and it very likely makes me equally as bad for not wanting to return what is rightfully theirs.” You didn’t bother opening it again to look. It was just jems. Stones and the like that would sell for more then you’d ever get paid to harvest even a planet of them. You liked working off world, you didn’t really care about the rush of harvest.

Small voice, you wished you had more confidence to just demand it all make sense. “You don’t need the money.”

Ezra, was firm. And quick. “No, but I do believe in being paid what I am rightfully owned. Keamy marooned me on place not to dissimilar to where we are. And I made it out, orphan in tow and missing my fucking arm. He’s a leader, he has to pay for such mistakes.”

You touched the numbers on the lock, now stationed at it’s opening combination. You could scramble it now. Ruin the opening and force him to give you back in return for the jems. But you didn’t. You sat there, frustrated that the book behind you interested you more then what could be easy extortion to freedom.

Sighing out, you gently placed it down onto the ground between your feet before wringing your hands in your lap together once more. “Can I ask one last question?” You could see Ezra nod in the corner of your eye. “Why me?”

Not looking at him caused you to miss the sinking in his heart. In his eyes, who else but you? How could you spend that night together and not understand that you consumed his soul and plagued his eyes with visions and ears with haunts of your soft cries and tender pleas. In what galaxy would he not feel so possessed by you?

Mimicking your leaned over posture, Ezra looked at you firmly even tough you couldn’t muster your heart to be brave and look back. His voice was low, and a rasp that sent static through your veins.

“Give me one last night, jem. And I’ll show you.”

You should have said no, in fact you should have run while you could have, he was giving you that option earlier. Left you all alone with every chance to escape, so why were you here? Back almost pressed against the wall of the shower, trapped between it and Ezra as your knees begged you for mercy.

All he had done was prompt you to kneel in front of him and you were the one who dropped in an instant. Your mouth already filled with saliva both yours and his from how urgently he kissed you, that and the water still reigning down on you forcing your eyes shut from the constant pressure.

His hand tightly gripped in your hair, he didn’t even need to tap at your swollen lips to open, you seeked his cock with hunger. Both moving down his length and the push of him at the back of your head, Ezra sank deep within your mouth.

Had it been hours since the conversation earlier? Days perhaps? You couldn’t tell, he stripped you down and has kept you naked and either on his cock or attached to his lips at all times. Your neck already sore and burning from the marks he now proudly bit into you, showing a display of teeth and bruises that would draw much attention to them.

Only when you were quite covered did he suggest a shower, but had no patience to do anything but satiate his appetite. You think he might have taken something, his cock always seemed hard no matter how many times he fucked you and took pleasure in being the one to guide you to just take more and more.

Filling your mouth, your nose brushed against the coarse, dark hair surrounding his cock but it too was wet and soaked from the shower water. The pressure screamed at you to gag, but you felt his fist in your hair tense, flexing as if to warn you from moving. Only slowly did he let you come down, hissing over the already loud noises around him. “That’s right, jem. Cock’s made only for you, you and this sweet little mouth- fuck,”

Tone trying to be deep and rasping, but switching to a moan each time he spoke too long. Unable to maintain composure without losing his grip on control. Control that you long had since realized you willingly signed over to him.

Guiding your head slightly faster, your hands tightened on their grip of his thighs. Knees screaming at you to get up, but truly did you want too? He was screwed up, and so was this, but you felt yourself grow needier the closer he was to cumming.

Only, such a need was yanked away from you just as your mouth was his cock. In a second, the rest of your body was pulled up. World spinning as Ezra flipped you and pressed your chest right against the wall, his body hard against your back.

Teeth digging into your neck, jaw and up to your ear you could feel how much he was gritting his teeth as he spoke. “Maybe we’ll never go back. Just stay right here, have you all to myself whenever I want, however I want. Huh, jem? You want that? To belong to me?”

You reached a hand behind you, raking it through his soaking wet hair. Pushing your hips back to press his cock firmly into your ass. Your logical side said no, don’t nod, don’t say yes. Make him let you go, forget this obsession or possession that has bewitched him with you and go back to the quiet, nothing life of your backwater planet.

But you didn’t. You nodded yes, pleading his name as he sunk his cock once more deep inside of you. So wet that there was little need to even thrust hard, and yet he fucked you as he had every time so far, hard and with pounding thrusts that could echo the room.

Throbbing inside of you, Ezra came with only a few minutes of hot water left. Every time unable to decide if he wanted to cum inside of you or all over you. Pulling out half way through, your walls were painted with his cum but now so once again was your cunt and ass.

He’d reach his hand down, smearing it over your skin as he rubbed harshly at your clit, fingers two, three sliding deep to push the rest of it back inside of you.

His voice was low and deep in your ear, dripping with a malicious affection that scared you as much as it dragged you further down the need of addictive. “We belong together, jem. World wouldn’t have brought you to me if we didn’t.”

Tilting your head back, he pressed his lips to yours. Tongue sliding in, much more smooth and gentle then his fingers were inside of you. Tasting one another, and a mix of himself on your own tongue it made you both moan. At the very least, you could spent an eternity kissing him and be content.

It wasn’t until later, much later as the night fell upon the planet with you curled into his chest, did Ezra start thinking. What to tell Cee, what life he wanted to give you, and exactly how he should make sure you are happy, happy with him, with Cee. In their home, in their family.

After all, Ezra didn’t spent over a year stalking you from the shadows, just to make you miserable.

#ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x female reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect/reader #ezra prospect/you #ezra prospect imagine #ezra prospect fanfiction #ezra propsect fic

[sir-teddy-of-bear]

tell me about the caphavers teachers fic pls , literally the best kind of fic : 3

i agree!! :D

I’m not exactly sure how many chapters it will be but I have the first one written and am currently half way through chapter 2, I also originally started writing this before the last season aired so did decide to change it to use their canon names instead of what i normally use for fanon.

Antony Havers is Button High School’s newest English teacher because I saw a headcanon a while back that he was an English teacher before the war and I just couldn’t let it go, Thomas is the head of the English department, The Captain (completely made up a second name for him which I’m currently going with Hatt) is a History teacher along with Humphrey. Fanny and Pat are both The Cap’s best friends (Fanny is a Maths teacher and Pat is the local scouts leader).

Alison, Mike, Mary, Robin, Julian and Kitty (Who is Cap’s daughter) are all students.

Thomas puts Havers forward to represent the English dept. in an annual school wide quiz and he has to team up with Cap, they end up running a club to help the kids prepare and Haver’s finds out that Cap runs the school’s LGBTQ+ Club and offers to help with that too.

They end up getting closer and spending a lot of time together but are both so oblivious that neither of them will confess their love to the other so Kitty starts to put a plan in motion to help move things a long.

I plan a lot of cute fluffy bits in this especially ones where they’re taking Kitty on days out towards the end and both of them being total dads bc I’m a sucker for Aus where they get to be a happy and cute family. I also have some really fun scenes planned for Cap’s friend group and for the student group.

Also I’d like to explore them running the LGBTQ+ Club to kind of give the kids a space that they didn’t have, especially both being ex-army.

And because I have so much of it written I thought I’d include a preview:

“Nice to meet you Anthony, i’m Mr Hatt, but please! call me James” The man said with a dazzling smile. Anthony couldn’t help but blush, he hoped beyond anything that it wasn’t too noticeable. The man before him couldn’t be more than a year or two older than him and with his salt and pepper hair he was rather handsome.

“I see you know Kitty” James continued “she was just telling me how much she was enjoying your class”

The young girl gave him a wave “Hi Mr Havers!”

The man smiled “I’m glad you liked it Kitty, you seemed to already know Animal Farm”

She nodded “Dad and I read it last year”

Dad? Dad? Oh good god above he was royally screwed.

#bbc ghosts #lieutenant havers #anthony havers #the captain #captain james #kitty #caphavers #teacher au #ao3 #button house

[reavenedges-lies]

I just don't get people on the internet especially hockey fans on the internet. So I'm going to be 26 this year my home team has been here longer than that they have always been here they have always been my home team. So why is it that when people see me being positive about my home town hockey team that they go I hope your team moves I hope you lose your team. Like damn okay caps fan on Twitter I'm glad that you're so gung-ho about the coyotes moving to salt lake City when your team and your main player can't do jack shit cuz we signed your power play coach.

I just don't get why according to some fans theyre allowed to be happy they're allowed to have their team but depending on what's going on with other teams in the league their fans aren't allowed to be happy. Hockey works here hockey belongs in this desert in the low desert and caps fans and Toronto fans and all of the other millions of people that absolutely say this foul shit about the coyotes not belonging here don't get it. To everyone who says Arizona needs to move I hope you're fucking team implodes that your ownership absolutely ruins your team and that you have to move because that's what you keep telling me about my team