#But I'm going to take this time to answer more asks while I take a break from animation

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 21/11✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hi! Would Macaque kidnap Wukong again? I read your comic, the last page, where Macaque is the kidnapping expert. And I'm very curious about it. Anyway, I love your comics! You are awesome.

Haha I don't think they really need it unless they want to do a "traditional wedding courtnapping" but it would be pretty odd since they kind of already live togehter.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I know this is definitely a LONG ways away, but, imagine: Wukong and Macaque playing the newlyweds game. What questions? What answers? Who’s asking the questions? Who’s getting the most right?

I wont list all the lesson but I think Macaque would get most of them right just because Wukong never really changed a lot during the years, while Macaque went through different stages of his life, and and he has new hobbies and tastes.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will mk have a nightmare about LBD? If yes Then we will have some angst with fluffy monkeys family moments!!!

Oh he has. He has many. Most of them he has while he is at pigsy's.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Can you please shows up a flashback backstory on how MK/Wukong discovered/found out/came out as trans?? 🙏🙏🙏 Banana sundae with chocolate sauce, rainbow sprinkles, THREE cherries, and a super-deluxe one-and-only Monkie King™️ collectible spoon???

Anonimo ha chiesto: will we see any past Shadowpeach?? I’m interested to see how you frame their dynamic back 5en.

Hahah maybe in the future, I'll see

Anonimo ha chiesto: Can we get Wukong telling dad jokes? Please, I’m begging i want to see MK laughing and Macaque just being so disappointed with Wukong yet so smitten. I want to see more Monkey family domestic blissss. 🙏🙏🙏🙏

I don't have my dad jokes book here but man give Macaque an award for the patience he has with these two children

@goofybearclown ha chiesto: Hi :3 Just wanted to say I love your shadowpeach and cotl AU!!! I didn't notice you made both at first but when I did I was like "waow :0". Tbh your works are in my top 3 series on Tumblr! @fenikzia ha chiesto: I love your LMK comic so much, I look forward to reading the new additions to it when they come out every other day,and reading your comic just makes my day better. Even if it hasn't updated a particular day, I make sure to go back and reread the newest part.Keep doing what you're doing and make sure to take breaks! @skye-minecraftyt-blog ha chiesto: You! I like you! Your Bio parents Lmk au always makes me extremely happy and I regularly reread it. ((o(^∇^)o)) Just wanted to say it @blazeandsilver ha chiesto: Hello, I just wanted to say your artwork is absolutely stunning, it makes my day whenever I see that you posted something new to the BioParents comic. Please keep up the good work and be sure to take some time for yourself, you’re important too.

AWWWWWW THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE!!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hihi shadowpeach au question: You mentioned in the latest comic that Mac is more lean and skinny than Wukong. Will we ever see the full extent of that?? ALSO I ADORE YOUR ART OMG ❤️❤️

A fully naked Macaque you say? Maybe.... who knows....

Anonimo ha chiesto: I come to defend Wukong acting like a man looking at a victorian lady ankles, he hasn’t seen his (ex) husband’s fur in centuries. And he probably hasn’t socialize in years either besides MK and the gang. Romantically he is stunned right? I doubt he has even looked at anyone besides Macaque anyways…

Honestly I like to think that Macaque was the only being in all the universe that was eer able to make him flustered

@mochalikesdrawing ha chiesto: So I got a question, will we ever get to see kaiju MK again?

I have a scene post AU I would like to draw. Maybe.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Ignoring all the angst because it is crushing my soul /pos, I'm lowkey convinced that Macaque knows Wukong feels some kind of way about him because he can hear his heartbeat go crazy at certain moments and isn't dumb, but just isn't calling Wukong on it because he's still trying to sort his own feelings first. BUT ONCE HE DOES OH BOY-

Hahah Macaque knows perfectly well Wukong is down for him. In the meantime Wukong is alwasy afraid he's just imagining things bc he's dense af.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Do you think Wukong and macaque would be cuddling and macaque would be watching something scary and Wukong would be trying to not pay attention to it because he hates scary stuff or would it be the other way around?

yess

@ep2nd ha chiesto: In your shadowpeach bio parents au, if MK and Wukong were created by Nuwa, with Nuwa using Macaque and Wukong as a base, has anyone wondered who created Macaque? And does Macaque himself knows?

Wait Nuwa created Wukong? If that's so I think then all the 5 monkeys were made by her, for some reason.

@boonalina ha chiesto: Sooo what exactly is the courtnapping process like? Is it just a simple "I'm gonna pick you up and carry you away" or is it an entire ceremony? Does someone have to lure the person into place? For example, Mei bringing Redson over to a secluded spot so that Mk can "courtnap" him? (Side note: I've been in this fandom for around two years now, and this comic is what made me find out about courtnapping lol)

I "think" anything that can be counted as like a sneak attack that takes them out of guard and brings them to the designated courtnapped room can be considered as courtnapping technically.

Anonimo ha chiesto: ... Hey so your shadow peach bio parent AU is better way better than season five. WOAH, WHO SAID THAT!! (no but seriously it is like a sitcom I tune on ever so often. Much love 🫶)

Haha thank you! That's a HUGE statement!

Anonimo ha chiesto: I wonder if MK has any unique attributes/abilities as a living mass of celestial material?

He's such a cocktail ofdifferent energies I wouldn't be surprised he is able to glow in the dark.

@cjtuy ha chiesto: I do have a question it's mainly about pigsy and tang when and how long have they been together as a couple and did both of them find mk are they married ?

They have been together for almost a year, but I don't think they are married, but maybe that could happen in the future??? But yeah MK found out a little after season 5 that they are together, that was also the same time he started calling Tang "Papa"

Anonimo ha chiesto: Has macaque added any personal items to the house? Like is he moved in? Have Wukong and macaque improved or changed anything else besides making the bed bigger?

Yes he did! Half of his belongins are in FFM, althought he's a little more minimalistic than Wukong. He also have been bothering Wukong to death so that he can finally organize his stuff (and they were roomates

Anonimo ha chiesto: I feel like if they were to play Minecraft or something macaque would be the base mom. He would be the only one to remember to farm food to not starve. The others would probably forget all the time that hunger is a thing in game. Wukong or Mk: oh dang does anyone have food I'm starving Macaque: (always brings extra for this reason) "sighs" yes

AH!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Remember the Minor Scale episode, from season 2? Where MK learn how to shrink himself? And there’s also the final episode of that season where MK just grow very big to try to fight LBD. I just love that part of his power and I have seen very little people showing it. Like, sometimes that power can show up when the poor boy is experiencing overwhelming emotions that can’t be contained anymore, or pure exhaustion. For example, Having many responsibility can lead to a lot of stress and exhaustion and at some point MK just can’t do more and just become tiny, not able to do more. On the opposite, maybe he experience trauma again through a nightmare (like about azure for example) and the emotional burden is to much and he just becomes big because of that. You see my vision? I love sizeshifting base on emotions :)

Aww and i love emotion-based powers, they are just so easy to play around.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Tbh the show should let macaque have a motorcycle. Wukong gets to be passenger princess

Yesss

Anonimo ha chiesto: as we get into the colder months i like to imagine MK’s first winter coat and he’s all super fluffy and warm

Cool for the monkey parents, bad for pigsy and all the hair in the restaurant from sheeding.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I think it would be so funny if MKs rock hadn't been cracked and he'd been raised on FFM by wukong. If the same thing happens in the show macaque planning to take mks powers thinking he's just Wukongs student but then while macaque and MK are training. Since macaque is so close he notices his ears. (Being raised by a monkey he gets his form sooner) suddenly putting everything on hold busting into FFM and is like WUKONG WTF

There's a fic on AO3 about it it's A Son of Two Dads

@cheese-hommo ha chiesto: Hii, fiesta I want to say I love how you draw and everything, it just looks so cool and beautiful. Now, with the last chapter of Monkey parents Au and so, with the acknowledgement of the demon etiquette and else, DBK and Wukong really misunderstand the comfort scene for a confession? Or something more? It was just so funny seeing the two of them getting so embarrassed at the end 🙂‍↕️

Ah, 2 young demons in their true forms so close to each other, blushing? Scandalous.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I've seen Mk is his Lego merch- he gots a tooth gap- so does this MK have one or did he get it filled?

Wait that was a tooth gap??? I though it was like, a detail of the smile

Anonimo ha chiesto: 🎤 what is your official (if any) opinion on Ink MK? (as a character, plot device, literary parallel, what have you)

It's ok. I personally believe "shadow" version of one character with their own fears and doubts is a clique a little bit too much used. But they give a lot of angst.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Thoughts on Macaque knowing either Japanese or Korean due to him liking anime.

I'll give you one better. Macaque always traveled to Japan pretty frequently during the centuries. Then became a weeb

Anonimo ha chiesto: Maybe it's just me but Wukong looks a bit thicker each time, is it because his fur's thickening or is he getting chubbier ??????? Anyway luv ur art

Both.

[ifonlyyuweremine]

Captain’s Girl [Part II]

John Price x Reader (Call of Duty)

Synopsis: Mixed tension combined with a failed mission leads to a heated kiss between you and the Captain. But what happens when kissing turns into something more? And will a new mission back in Urzikstan be the catalyst to bring you together or tear you and your captain apart?

Tags: Enemies to lovers, SMUT, guys I'm not joking I went crazy with the smut, military romance, secret feelings, pining, idiots in love, fighting, secret relationships, consequences, LONG.

Word count? Do you even need to ask?

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

The helicopter ride back was abysmal, a whole 3 hours spent in absolute silence. You'd spent the majority of the time staring at your fraying shoelace. The subtle rocking of the aircraft kept you awake while everyone else slept off the rough morning (and the hangover). It turns out that drinking the night before being dispatched wasn't the best idea. Shocking.

It didn't help that your mind was still hung up on the kiss between you and Price. Also shocking.

In the past 24 hours, you discovered that there was a widespread rumor that you and your captain had been sleeping together. Everyone on base had started calling you the Captain’s Girl. And that Price didn't apparently hate you and thought that planting one on you was the best way to prove that.

Why he kissed you was an entirely new can of worms you didn't have the stomach to open right now.

Now, did you kiss him back? Yes. Why? You didn't know the fuck why. There were several possible answers to this dilemma, answer one, it was the heat of the moment. Answer two, it just felt right to do so, it's rude to leave a guy hanging. Answer three, you were just too shit-faced to think critically about it. You were leaning toward the last one.

The worst part of the whole situation, (besides the fact that you may have given those rumors a tiny bit of validity) was that Price was a phenomenal kisser. You remembered it in excruciating detail. And unlucky for you it might have been one of the best kisses you'd ever had.

A small part of you wondered if he enjoyed it too, but given his face when you separated. All flushed and surprised, his eyes wide with horror and his breath heavy… yeah maybe it was best not to dwell on your kissing abilities.

It was a small blessing that Gaz had been the one to almost catch you in the act. He loved to tease but he wasn't an asshole, your and Price's secret was most likely in good hands. Heaven forbid it was Ghost or Soap because you would've had half a mind to jump out of the helicopter without a second thought. The thought was still tempting though.

You glanced up at Price, his head tilted back and his eyes shut. He wasn't faring much better than you were. He had heavy bags under his eyes and the line between his brows was far more defined than usual. Somehow he still looked good. In a very professional way, of course. Not in a ‘we made out last night, and thinking about it turns me on,’ kind of way.

Eventually, you would have to interact with him professionally again. When his foot healed it would be back to regularly scheduled training.

Best case scenario, they'd put you all on leave and you could have a week or two surrounding yourself with other men to clear your head. You'd never really been one for an extended vacation, but exceptions could be made. Plus, going back to base meant going back to a whole bunch of people who thought you were bangin’ the boss.

You grimaced, vacationing in hell might have been better. On second thought, you'd take the checkpoint base any day. Home base could go fuck itself, at least it was hot and sunny back in Urzikstan. You heard someone chuckle and looked up to see Ghost looking at you.

“Ya’ look like you swallowed a lemon.” He said enthused. You made a sound that crossed between a sigh and a grunt.

“Just preparing myself for landing,” You breathed as the helicopter wobbled. The aircraft began to descend in a linear motion, making your stomach sink a little.

“Home sweet home.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

One week and three days, you had been back at base for almost two weeks without speaking a single word to Price. Maybe if you kept this up you could spend your last 8 months with 141 in peace.

Your days now had been mostly consisting of training (supervised by Ghost instead of Price), mindless tasks, eating in the commons, watching movies in the break room, and naps. It was kind of perfect, this was probably the most relaxed you'd ever been while at base. And nobody bothered to tease you over Price since he was rarely around. When he did make an appearance he didn't speak a word to you, which was somewhat nice.

A part of you wished for some explanation for the night of the kiss, but maybe ignorance was bliss. Whatever the reason, it was all behind you. You could totally remain professional when he comes back from recovery. Totally.

Gaz tried to talk to you about that night once, to which you immediately shut him down. Though, you knew he saw through you, and Price too, it was probably easier reading Price than you at this point. It was odd for Price to seclude himself away, even odder that he wasn't on speaking terms with you conveniently after the night that you tracked him down and blew up at him for starting a rumor that he most definitely did not create. Ghost had caught onto the odd tension between you two almost as fast as Gaz did.

Jhonny well… he was still in his own world, the man was smart sure, but he was a bit of a dunce when it came to reading other people's emotions. On the bright side that made him the perfect buddy to be around because he wasn't analyzing every interaction you had. You were grateful for him in his own way.

You were walking down one of the hallways after a bit of a loose end. Having nothing to do after training was a pain sometimes, you had an hour or two until dinner, and the base gym was at its busiest. And you didn't feel like you were in the mood to wait twenty minutes in a sweaty gym for a turn on the leg press machine. So, you opted for wandering around like a lost spirit in search of something to do instead.

Just as you turned a corner you collided with what felt like another wall. Your eyes met a 4x4 truck with a skull mask. Ghost.

“Easy, aren't sharpshooters supposed to be vigilant? Or are you the only exception?” His voice reverberated off your eardrums like a low-pitch bass. You rolled your eyes but let out an amused breath of air. To give the big guy some credit his name fits him perfectly, you didn't know how someone who was built like a standard Lego brick could be so stealthy. He could fit into any dark corner and nobody would be the wiser.

“Just you Ghost, you seem to be the only entity that evades me.” That seemed to pull a junction of his lips up because the corners of his eyes slightly crinkled. He held a small file filled with a few articles of paper tucked away into its folds.

Ghost crossed his arms, “What ya’ doin’? Have you taken up wandering hallways as a hobby now?”

You grimaced, “Gym was all full, didn't want to bother.” You said plainly, earning a nod from the bigger man.

“So… suppose that means you're free for time?” There was a slight smugness to his tone as he held the file up to you. Your gaze dropped from him to the file, he didn't phrase it like an order but you knew it was. You sighed and took the file from his hand. “Fine. Who do I have to track down to give this to?”

He shifted on one foot, “Price. You know where his office is.” You tried not to let your mouth fall open, this bastard.

You shook your head and tried to thrust the papers back into his chest, “What? No, I'm not giving these to Price. Can't you find someone else?”

Ghost stepped back and shook his head, raising his hands up in surrender. “Nope, s’outta my hands now. It’s one file, just knock on his door and drop it on his desk, easy.” You shot him a spiteful glare, there was probably an evil grin under that stupid mask.

You squeezed the file in your hands tighter, feeling the paper wrinkle in your vice grip. “Bastard.” You grimaced, turning on your heel towards the direction of Price's office. You heard him chuckle over your shoulder, “Good soldier.” He called after you, the shit-eating grin practically spotlighted through his tone.

Trudging through the familiar hallways toward Price's office was like walking through a dead-end alleyway. The further you got, the more signs you saw telling you to turn back. Sure you saw him after the night of the kiss, but you weren't being forced to talk to him or even acknowledge he was there. This was different, you would be alone with him. Alone in his office. Even if it was for a split second that you were in his presence the knowledge still made your skin pebble with goosebumps.

Before you knew it, you were facing the dreaded door of his office. The sight of the familiar plaque of his name gives you an almost Deja Vu feeling. The last time you were here things didn't go over too well, not that things ever really went great when the two of you came in contact.

You drew in a breath, just get this over with and you could be done. Maybe go take a shower or something, just go anywhere that was a good distance away from here. Your fist met the hardwood of the door, giving it a hearty few knocks. After a beat, his muffled voice reached your ears, “Come in.”

Pushing open the door you were greeted with the sight of Price. Doing pushups in the corner of his office. Okay, I guess. You were a little dumbfounded, usually one uses an office for things like paperwork or meetings. Not a personal gym. “I thought the point of recovering was that you're supposed to be resting.” You deadpanned. The file in your hands long forgotten.

His head immediately snapped up at the sound of your voice, pools of blue staring right into you like you'd walked in naked. Price halted mid-pushup, “[Name].” He breathed, obviously caught a little off guard by your appearance.

“Unfortunately,” You said back, watching as he got up and brushed himself off. The cotton of his shirt stretched over the expanse of his biceps and chest. Your eyes shot back to his face, a little guilty. Price cleared his throat, “They won't let me train in the gym yet. So, I have to improvise.”

You blinked at him, “Base doctor must love you.” You said sarcastically, glancing down at his foot. “How's your foot?” You asked politely, filling the awkward silence.

Price looked down at his wrapped foot, shrugging. “It's better. Don't need the crutch anymore.” He said plainly. You responded with a nod and an ‘ah,’ creating an even longer awkward silence. The two of you stood there for another beat, just looking at each other. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to run to him or run away from him. Just then you remembered the whole reason why you were here.

“Oh- uh, I have this for you-“ You held out the manilla file for him to take, “Ghost told me to bring it up here.” Price's eyes darted from the folder and then back to you, he hesitantly walked closer and took the file. His fingers brushed yours and you swear an electric current shot through your spine. His fingers were warm and rough, transporting you back to when his hands were in your hair, holding your face, cupping the back of your neck.

You swallowed, it felt like your heartbeat was in your head. “Thank you.” He said, pulling back his hand and the papers with it.

It was like someone had knocked the wind out of you, you were frozen. “…Right, I'll go then.” You said, taking a step back from him as he put the file on top of his desk.

“[Name]. Hold on, please.” His voice stopped you in your tracks, making you rotate a little to face him completely. His voice didn't sound angry, but it was firm. “Everything alright?” You chewed on the inside of your cheek, watching as he faced you. Leaning against his desk with his arms crossed.

His adams apple bobbed up and down, lifting a hand to rub his mutton chops. “Yeah…I just wanted to clear up something with you.” His voice was careful, the pauses and hesitance filling you with dread. Shit. He wanted to talk about the kiss, which you most definitely did not want to talk about. A part of you was dying inside but you nodded, “Yeah, what's up?” You said through clenched teeth.

“About what happened the night before the team left Urzikstan, I just wanted to… apologize. It was unprofessional of me especially considering the circumstances.” You stood statue still, well this was a first. He was apologizing to you. Price continued, “It was a moment of weakness and emotions were running high and frankly I didn't know how else to show you I didn't hate you. I give you my word that it will never happen again.”

A moment of weakness? What the hell was that even supposed to mean? It was nice to hear an apology come from him but to be honest, you weren't sure if you were happy about the fact he was sorry. Maybe that meant he didn't enjoy it, but it certainly didn't seem like it when his tongue was down your throat. Well, if you were already on the subject mind as well ask.

“Did you hate it?” You asked, Price looked at you for a moment. His face was puzzled like it was the last thing he had expected to come out of your mouth. “What?” He asked, his voice thick behind his British accent.

You stood your ground, “The kiss-” you clarified. “Did. you. hate. it?” His eyes searched yours for an ounce of reasoning, “I- it was unprofessional and I shouldn't have initiated anything as your Captain-”

“That wasn't my question.” You cut him off, your eyebrows furrowed together as your gaze bore into him. “I asked if you hated kissing me.”

Price shifted, leaning back a little against his desk. It was silent for a while, the sound of the wall clock and your beating heart was the only noise you could hear. “No… I didn't hate it.” He said after another beat.

A small part of you soared, you could sleep at night knowing your kissing abilities weren't the cause of his skittishness. The next question slipped past your lips before you had the mind to stop yourself. “Do you regret it?”

Again his lips pulled into a frown and his eyes darted away, “[Name], I don't know why these questions are necessary.” But you weren't going to let him deflect you that easy, right now all thoughts of professionalism and integrity were out the window. You deserved an explanation, even if the logical side of your mind was telling you to leave. You stepped closer to him, so he couldn't ignore your presence.

“It's necessary because you kissed me out of nowhere and I deserve an explanation.” You said defiantly, “So do you or do you not regret it?”

He gave you an exasperated look before swallowing his pride. Pinching the bridge of his nose between his pointer and thumb, he spoke, “I regret kissing you at that moment, and how I went about it. But I don't regret kissing you, no.”

Price’s cheeks turned a slightly rosy color that reached his ears. He looked like a guilty dog. You didn't know what surprised you more, the fact that he apologized or that he didn't regret kissing you. But his admission sparked a heat that crawled into your bones, burying into your stomach and coloring your cheeks similarly to his.

“Then just kiss me again.”

What came out of your mouth seemed to surprise you just as much as it did Price. He looked at you like you had grown a second head, “I'm sorry?” You felt your limbs lose feeling, fuck it, if you were going in mind as well go all in.

“I said what I said, if you regret how you went about kissing me last time…make it up now.” The silence that stretched over the two of you lasted for far longer than you were comfortable with. Price shook his head, seemingly coming back to reality. “[Name], I'm not kissing you.” He said pushing off the desk to stand at his full height.

You frowned, well shit. “Why not?” You said, trying not to let the surprise and annoyance bleed through your tone.

He looked at you incredulously, “Because we're in my fucking office and you're my subordinate.” Price said, gesturing around his office to further his argument. Jeez, you really hated this guy. He could at least throw you a bone after pulling a kiss on you out of nowhere.

“So? You kissed me out in the open at the checkpoint base- and I was your subordinate then too.” You knew that he knew you had a good point there, “If you don't want to kiss me or something you could've just said so.” You glared.

Price groaned and shook his head, rubbing his hand over the nape of his neck. “No- I- fuck, of course I want to kiss you. But it's not appropriate, there are fraternization rules. Especially when it comes to me as your Captain.”

Aha! So he did want to kiss you, that at least was one more mystery solved. You craned your neck up to meet his eyes, your hands seizing his face. Cupping his scruffy cheeks between your palms. “Rules only apply if you get caught. And you owe me a better apology.” You told him sternly.

Price’s eyes were wide and his body tensed for a moment. Only to relax a moment later, the heat of his face could burn your skin. Your hands tingled as the pads of your fingers slid against the coarse scuff of his beard. His face hid something behind the mask of surprise, something that glinted in the pools of navy and grey. Everything about him looked so odd, so real.

Back at the checkpoint base, you didn't have time to look over his features or memorize them. You weren't able to watch the flicker in his eyes, something akin to a stalking wolf.

“One kiss.” Price breathed.

“One kiss.” You repeated back to him, trying not to let your voice quake.

That was all it took before his lips were slotted against yours, swallowing your breath and your mind with it. The kiss back at Urzikstan was rushed, desperate, quick. This. This was different. It was like a switch in your brain was flipped off, the mind-numbing static and the gentle rhythm of his lips replaced where your rational thought was supposed to be.

Large hands seized your waist, digging into your flesh. Slowly, the gentle probes of his mouth morphed into heavy kisses and heated groans. His mouth tasted the same as it did before, like smoke and whiskey. You doubted you'd ever forget the taste of him.

Your hands slid around his neck, and your dull nails dragged down his nape. Earning a throaty moan on his part, with each lick, groan, and movement of his lips, you only seemed to get sucked in further. Your senses were drowning in him, yet you only ached to go deeper. To let the water fill your lungs and cloud your brain.

Lips, tongue, teeth, you didn't know where it ended nor where it started. Hell, you didn't know what you were even doing. You didn't even realize you had moved until your behind hit the solid edge of his desk, making you retract for a sharp breath.

Price panted against your lips, still slick and kiss swollen. Neither of you did anything, standing still in the aftermath. The kiss said more than either of you could have ever put into words. Hands squeezed your hips, “On the desk.”

You blinked, only somewhat coherent, “What?” Price lightly pushed you further, the back of your body being pressed against the hardwood. “You heard me, sit on the desk.” His voice was rough and thick with his accent. It wasn't more of a request but a demand, and unlucky for you it made your knees weak.

Carefully you lifted yourself onto the flat surface, his body wedged between your open legs. The rough pads of his fingers grasping at your hips, and before you knew it you were kissing him again. It was addictive, he was addictive. This felt more like your fist kiss with him, the kisses became rougher, more rushed, and more desperate. Like trying to fill an endless void with his lips.

“I thought you said one kiss,” You managed to gasp out between open-mouthed kisses. You felt the pull of a smile on the corner of his lips before separating from you only to attach to your neck. Suckling at the skin and leaving trails of blooming redness in his wake.

“You said you wanted a better apology right?” Price said, his voice vibrating against your collar. The texture of his beard against your skin sending full-body shivers down your spine.

You nodded, your hands reaching to his back to fist the material of his shirt. “Yeah.” Your voice was breathy, it sounded almost foreign to you. Like you hadn't even spoken it. Hands dipped under your shirt, running up the soft skin of your ribs, mapping out your body. Price looked at you, something in his eyes was desperate, like a wild animal looking at their next meal.

“Then let me make it up to you. Please.” Fuck.

When had a man ever said that to you? And not any man but John fucking Price. A pulse drummed in your stomach that reached your core, here you were, sitting on your captain's desk with him in between your legs. Asking you to let him make it up to you. Really…who were you to refuse when he asked so nicely? You swallowed and nodded, “Okay.”

With your confirmation, Price lifted your shirt above your head, hastily tossing it somewhere on the floor. His hands making quick work of your bra with it, the offending garment joining your shirt on the floor. He stood there momentarily, taking in the new expanse of revealed skin. Price’s calloused hands glided over your abdomen, cupping your breasts and brushing a thumb over the hardened nipple.

You hissed, your spine curving at his touch. Price’s hands were hard and warm, a stark contrast to the plush mound of your chest. “Fuck, you're a vision you know that? So fucking pretty.” He breathed, his comments adding fuel to the fire between your legs. You couldn't remember the last time a man had called you anything near a ‘vision,’ but damn it felt good. It felt good to be wanted.

Your thighs squeezed together, blocked by his frame standing between them. Every movement he made caused your hips to brush, sending shocks up your spine. And shit could you feel him, he was a large man but the size of the tent brushing against your clothed core was downright ridiculous. No wonder his ego was so big, you absentmindedly thought.

A finger hooked one of the loops of your standard-issue pants. Price was looking at you, “Can I…?” He motioned down asking permission to discard the rest. To which you nodded, trying to hold back your eagerness. “Yeah go ahead.”

Price helped you out from your pants, letting them drop to the floor with a dull thud. He groaned as he caught eye of your underwear—a very embarrassing and very obvious wet spot coating the fabric. Fuck-you didn't realize that was there. You'd been so caught up in his hands you'd barely felt it. He shot you a knowing look, the corner of his lip twitched up.

“All this cause of me?” He asked smugly, circling a digit over the sodden fabric. You twitched, the contact making you bite down on your lip to keep from making a startled noise.

You glared at him, “Don’t fucking tease me.” You said, the embarrassment in your tone disguised as venom. He grinned, prick’ you thought. Price guided a finger over your clothed slit, leaning into the crook of your neck. “Never baby, just want to make things right with you.” He murmured into your skin.

Price tugged the fabric to the side, letting your slick lubricate his fingers. You shuddered, your hands holding onto him for dear life. “Fuck-” You choked out, your hips leaning into his hand. It felt infuriatingly good, the way his digit glided up and down your labia at a leisurely slow pace making you fein for more. He groaned as he watched you moan from the way he brushed his thumb over your clit.

“Atta girl, so good f’me.”

Oh.

You liked that. You'd never really paid attention to the gratification of someone praising you outside of an academic or professional level but at that moment you could tell that did something for you. And Price seemed to notice too.

He gently prodded at your entrance, earning a whine from your lips. “One finger or two?” He muttered, you could barely think let alone answer his question. What you did know was that you need more, “Two.” You said breathlessly.

A light chuckle reverberated off of him, “Greedy girl.” Price didn't wait and plunged two fingers into you slowly. You threw your head back as his thick digits stretched open the gummy walls of your core. “Fuck, look at you. So wet for me, so fucking sexy like this you know that?” You could only manage another choked whine as he mimicked the ‘come here’ motion with his fingers.

It was euphoric, the way he filled out your walls with his fingers alone. Slowly pressing the pads of his middle and ring up against the spongy spot inside you. You dug your nails into his shoulder, a silent scream fell from your lips. Price’s other hand holding the small of your back to support you. “Stay still,” He whispered into the shell of your ear, making you shudder.

You didn't listen, how could you? You could barely focus on what he was saying as it was, let alone when he was knuckle deep inside you.

When Price noticed you weren't listening he retracted his fingers, leaving you hollow. You whined, already craving the stretch of his fingers again. He rested his palm against your cunt, his digits barely tracing over your entrance. “Come on, I know you can listen, stay still for me yeah?” His voice vibrated against your neck and his beard brushed over the exposed skin. Making your body prickle with goosebumps.

“You're an asshole you know that?” You panted, going rigidly still. He smiled against you, his fingers plunging back into your wet heat. “And you're all bark and no bite, fuckin’ vixen. Always looking at me when you know you shouldn't, driving me insane all the time. Stubborn girl.”

You threw your head back, trying hard not to let your hips twitch or jerk. Your mouth fell open to let out a lustful moan that would've made anyone in the near vicinity blush.

Price continued, “You like driving me mad? Never fucking listening to me, arguing with me, riling me up.” He muttered, sliding his fingers in and out at a brutal pace. Making your cunt flutter, producing the most obscene sounds you ever heard from yourself. “Then you come in here all sexy asking me to kiss you. It's like you wanted this, wanted my fingers.”

You felt the burning fire in your core tighten and roar, “Price- slow down. M’gonna cum if you keep going.” You babbled, your nails leaving crescents on his bicep. Everything was happening so fast you couldn't keep track of what was going on.

Price’s fingers were rough, thick, they filled out the lining of your walls with ease. A thick fog started to cloud your mind, making the world almost blur. In. Out. In. Out. It was maddening, he wasn’t slowing and you were only growing more feverish.

He shook his head, his other hand leaving your hip to grab your chin. Forcing you to look into his eyes, an animalistic hunger written over his face. “No, you're going to cum on my fingers. Look at me while you do it, look at me while you soak my hand.” Price’s thumb circled over your clit, making you clench and pulse. A full-body shudder racking through you.

You came suddenly, unexpectedly. It was hard and fast, but in a way, it was like you were floating. Your muscles went rigid, your back curving, and your startled moan bounced off the walls of the office. It came in waves, crashing over you like the tide as he finger-fucked you through the orgasm. All the while staring directly into those familiar pools of blue and navy. Your pussy spasmed around his fingers.

After a minute you fell limp, like you'd just run miles, you panted. Hair falling in your face and wetness coating both his fingers and your inner thighs, the juices pooling onto the dark wood of the table. Price held your waist with one hand, letting you slump against his chest. It was peaceful bliss for a moment.

You caught your breath enough to sit up, meeting his gaze. His hand that held your waist moved to brush a few stray hairs falling over your eyes. The corners of Price’s lips pulled into a smile, and your heart stuttered, only a little though. “Have I made it up to you yet?” He murmured, the thickness of his voice could have melted your ears. Smooth like syrup but rugged enough to be devastatingly masculine.

“Apology accepted.” You breathed, trying not to sound too winded. It was too late to form any semblance of decency so the next best option was pretending he didn't single-handily give you the most toe-curling orgasm of your life. Easier said than done.

Price detached from you, walking over to one of his office drawers and pulling out a box of tissues. “Normally I'd have something better to clean you up with but these will do for now.” He said casually, pulling a few from the box and coaxing your legs back open to wipe down the mess. Somehow, you felt a blush spread across your cheeks.

This was so...domestic, sweet even, it wasn't like him. Then again, fingering you on his desk wasn't like him either but here you were. You both had crossed a line and there wasn't any going back, you swallowed. “Thanks, but uhm…what do we do now?” Frankly, it was a dumb question but you couldn't help asking.

He gave you a look, “What do you mean?” You squirmed under his gaze, trying not to look down at his warm hand brushing up against your inner thigh.

“Well, we can't exactly pretend like this didn't happen.” You clarified, watching as the wheels in his head turned. Price shrugged, “We can leave it at this if that's what you want. I think both of us are just on edge, y’know, the heat of the moment.”

Somehow his words didn't match his face, there was more that seemed to bellow beneath his tone. But rather than bringing it up, you thought about his words. This wasn't ever something you anticipated to happen but to your surprise, you didn't hate it. “What if we just kept it going?”

Price looked at you, his eyes widened a tad, the surprise written across his face doing more for your nerves than you were comfortable with. “Like- in the sense that you and I both have a lot of built-up tension and unresolved issues. But if this works to keep the peace why not give it a try? Discreetly of course.”

It was a beat before he responded, “Alright, but like you said, discreet. If anyone catches on this is done.”

You soared, why? You didn't know, it just felt like the best news you'd gotten in forever. But looking too deeply into that feeling was uncharted territory. Better off leaving it in the corner of your brain with all the other repressed emotions.

“Works for me.” You agreed, Price got up again to grab your poor clothes that had been flung across the room. Handing them back gingerly, he was nice enough to turn around as you reclothed yourself. There was a slight charge to the air, almost like static. It pricked at your skin, making you jumpy and nearly insecure. It was like you had reverted to a teenage girl.

He caught your gaze, and the unspoken tension and lingering awkwardness faded just a little. He gave you a nod, “I'll see you tomorrow for drills.”

You smiled just slightly, “See you.” Walking to the door and turning the handle, you forced yourself not to look back at him.

After shutting the door you breathed a sigh, brushing out your clothes and smoothing your hair of the lingering frizz. Getting cozy with your captain was not on your yearly bingo card, but hey, beggars couldn't be choosers. You absentmindedly thought about the implications of technically giving that stupid rumor some validity. But you were only human, a girl has to do what she has to do to get laid.

Discreetly, of course, you were great about being discreet. Yeah, easy peasy. All you had to do was make sure nobody found out.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

At first, you didn't really know what to expect when you first made the arrangement with Price about “solving the unresolved problems between the two of you.” But after a few weeks of working out frustrations ‘on’ each other, you could say with full confidence that this arrangement exceeded your expectations.

Not only had the genuine fights between you been on an extended hiatus, but it started to be replaced with playful banter. And when you weren't bantering or training or hanging out with the group, you were fucking. And boy was it something.

For one, Price was experienced, to say the least, he knew what to do and when to do it. He had mapped out your body and played it like a fiddle. And with your extent of mediocre lovers, it was like a breath of fresh air. And his body was nothing to sneeze at either, he had muscle allll the way down. Battle scars be dammed, everything just seemed to make him more appealing.

The only troubling part of the arrangement was keeping up the ruse and getting creative when it came to the actual action portion of it. But turns out that unconventional areas to have sex weren't as bad as they seemed. Office? Hell yeah. In the medical wing private rooms? Why not. In the showers and bathrooms? You only live once.

Unintentionally getting laid was also fixing your mood. Who knew an orgasm was a great way to fix an attitude problem? Well, at least most of your attitude problems.

You were outside running the trail that weaved its way around the base, at least once or twice a week Price would make you and the team run until you thought you would pass out. Something about endurance training. Running wasn't the worst thing but the harsh trail and uneven ground that zigzagged and dipped made you want to tear your hair out.

Your breath came out in small puffs, the cold air around you doing little to soothe the hot ache of your muscles. Your baby hairs stuck to your forehead and by the looks of it, you still had a few more miles left.

Jhonny ran beside you, his heavy breaths synchronous with yours. Up ahead was Gaz and Price and a few inches behind you was Ghost acting as caboose. You watched them run in front of you like you were studying a Peloton ad. Seriously, how the hell had they barely broken a sweat yet?? It was downright annoying how athletic they were.

“I swear, neither of them are human. Price just got cleared to run a week ago and he looks like he's having the time of his life.” You said between pants, next to you Soap laughed.

“Can’t say I disagree with ya’ there Bonnie, think he just does it for show at this point.” He said, his voice equally hoarse. From behind you, Ghost chimed in, “Maybe if you two stopped talking you'd actually catch up to them by now.”

You shot Ghost a glance over your shoulder, “People in glass houses.” You quipped, considering he was the caboose it was a little ironic. Not by much but still.

Soap grinned, “She’s right ain't she L.T.? Say, how's the arse of the train treating you? Got a nice view?”

Your laugh hurt, the air felt so thin but the pit of your stomach warmed. Talking while running (especially laughing) wasn't the smartest, but it was a distraction. Ghost swatted at the back of Soap’s head, cutting his laugh short.

From up ahead Price turned his head to look at you and Soap. “Two miles left, I’d suggest you save your stamina. If you fall behind on time you run extra.” He deadpanned. His voice barely sounded tired, the nerve.

You grimaced, “I think I’d prefer one of your medieval torture methods than running any longer.” Despite what you thought was an amusing comment Price didn't look enthused.

“That was a nice way of telling you and Jhonny to shut up, am I clear?” He said sternly, you held in your groan. Hookup buddy or not, Price was still annoying. “Clear.” You and Soap said in unison.

The rest of the path was spent in lingering silence. And by the time you reached base, you felt like you had one foot in the grave. You hunched over, your hands on your knees as you took in as many breaths as you could without it hurting. Had the air always been this thin?

Price was a few feet ahead, hands on his hips as he cooled off. His hair was slightly messy and his body glistened with a thin layer of sweat. He reached for his shirt and pulled it up to wipe his face, exposing the hard muscle and his happy trail. Dear lord. You watched him like a hawk, zeroing in on his abs as they expanded and decompressed with each breath.

He glanced your way, you were incredibly obvious so it was no surprise how his eyebrow twitched up and his lips pulled into a wry smile. “I did tell you to save your energy.” He commented quite smugly, referencing your current state.

You snapped out of the trance his abs had put you in, leaning back up and darting your eyes away. “I’m fine, just catching my breath. And for the record that felt way longer than normal, at this point, you just like to watch the team suffer.”

Price chuckled, crossing his arms. “Well someone’s bitter. But look, you did it and you came out fine. It's a win-win.”

You glared at him, unimpressed. “Sure, you work me like a dog until I inevitably die of overexertion and I get a paycheck in the mail that I'll never be able to spend because I'm dead. Win-win.” You said sarcastically. Price's lips tugged up, his mutton chops creating an almost teddy bear-like effect.

The corners of his eyes slightly crinkled, “Maybe you should've taken up drama instead of Military. Might fit you better.”

Your lips pursed into a line, Price was quick witted, but way too full of himself. It was a good thing you were there to keep his ego in line, you liked to think of yourself almost as the balancing act of the team. After all, there could only be so many cooks in the kitchen before things got rocky. “Good thing they don’t pay you for jokes.” You said, finally gaining back your breath.

Just as Price opened his mouth to give what was most likely a poor rebuttal a large hand patted your shoulder.

“[Name], pub tonight yeah?” It was Gaz. His beaming face almost made you squint. You took a minute to process his words, you were rarely one to inhabit the pubs on the outskirts of the base. But a brief memory of him and Jhonny asking you to go from earlier that morning cleared up your memory fog.

You cleared your throat and nodded, “Yeah- wouldn't miss it.” You said through your teeth. Gaz looked forward to Price, “You tagging along Price?”

You looked back at Price too, curious. He stood there a moment before sighing, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess I will. Someone's got to keep the lot of ya’ in check.” Your spirit plummeted, the last time you were drunk in front of Price you started cursing at him like a drunken sailor. And you started kissing him in broad…daylight? Nightlight? Whatever. The point was, that you had zero self-control when you drank.

Heck, you barely had any self-control when it came to Price. You were on him any chance you got, and mixing two of your greatest temptations just sounded like a recipe for disaster.

Gaz smiled, ruffling your sweaty hair. “Great! We’ll leave after dinner, Price you're designated driver.” You forced yourself to smile back, giving a weak excuse for an ‘excited’ laugh.

“Great.” You said through your teeth, giving an enthusiastic thumbs up. Price gave him a nod as he walked off towards Soap and Ghost.

“Can’t wait.” You breathed to yourself.

Game plan: Don't drink and avoid Price at all costs. Simple enough. After all, it was just a pub, how bad could it be?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Spoiler Alert: Bad. It could be bad.

In the first thirty minutes of being at the shabby pub, you'd broken your first rule by getting roped into a drinking game with Jhonny. Not the smartest of decisions by far that you made. But it did take off the edge, now the orange lighting and the peeling paint on the walls seemed quaint instead of creepy.

The warmth in your stomach buzzed with a low frequency that made you giddy. And you hadn't paid for any of your drinks courtesy of Jhonny. Things may have been turning out for the better if you stayed on your A game. But unsurprisingly you failed to do so.

You sat on one of the barstools, a classic marg in hand with the salted rim and fancy lime slice on the glass. Ghost was sitting next to you while you both watched Jhonny trying to sweet-talk some poor girl from across the bar. Price sat a few chairs down next to Gaz, wrapped up in a conversation with the old bartender. Slowly, you felt yourself getting cozy.

And you were drunk enough that you merely hummed along with the maroon 5 reruns that played in the background.

“I got fifteen on the girl slappin’ him by the end of the night.” Ghost said as you watched the scene unfold.

You couldn't help but let an unabashed giggle slip from your lips. “Honestly I can't tell if she wants to take him home or take him to the local station for harassment charges.” Ghost grunted in agreement.

The girl gingerly took another sip of her drink as Soap talked to (at) her. Earning another hearty laugh from both You and Ghost. After another minute of people-watching Ghost patted the bar table, fishing a pack from inside of his cargo pocket. “Alright, I’m taking five’ I'll be outside.” He said as he got up.

You frowned but nodded, your gossip buddy was gone which was annoying. But instead of dwelling on it, you took another sip of your marg. The tequila burned your throat in a sickly sweet way, it wasn't the best drink you'd ever had but it did the job. Mid-drink you felt someone else walk up behind you, without warning someone slid into the empty stool next to you.

“This seat taken?” You didn't recognize the voice, it was masculine but it didn't sound like any of the guys. You looked to your side, it was a guy. He looked to be taller, with pale skin, sandy brown hair, and dark eyes. He wasn't about to be on a magazine cover but he definitely wasn't hard to look at.

You didn't quite know what to say, “uh…yeah, I suppose by you.” It was a lame response but he did kinda already sit himself down.

He smiled, white teeth, a little crooked but nobody's perfect. He had a good jaw, not clean-shaven but it made him look a bit more approachable. “That’s good to hear,” he was holding a drink, a gin-and-coke by the looks of it. “I saw you and your friend playing that drinking game earlier, pretty impressive, didn't think you'd be able to keep up.”

You gave a bit of an awkward laugh, unsure of what to make of the situation. But friendly conversation wasn't off the table, and the mystery man seemed nice enough. “Yeah, I guess I did, thanks. You uh- you done anything like that before?”

Mystery man shook his head, “No I can't hold my ale. I prefer to let the professionals handle that.” You laughed, finding the comment a little ridiculous.

“I’d hardly call myself a professional.” You replied, taking another sip of your drink. His eyes dipped down to your lips, watching as you raised the glass to your mouth and swallowed. But, they quickly averted back to your eyes.

“I don't know, I would hardly classify you as intermediate. I would buy you a drink but I'm not sure that much to drink in one night is healthy.” He said smoothly, leaning one elbow against the counter.

Buy you a drink? Okay, maybe a bit too friendly. But maybe he was just being nice, people buy strangers drinks all the time. You nodded, “Oh that's nice of you. Yeah, I'd say after this I’ll call it quits.” You said, raising your marg.

He hummed and nodded, licking his lips. “Hopefully you're not too drunk, right?” Something about his tone you didn't like, it was like he was teasing you.

You averted your eyes, “Uh hopefully not. Just buzzed for now, I’ll probably feel the brunt of it later.” You laughed awkwardly.

“Did you drive here yourself?” Okay, what was with all the questions? You weren't sure if that was a courteous thing to ask or just downright nosy.

You shook your head, “No someone drove me.” You said simply, keeping it short and sweet. Maybe then he'd get the vibes you were putting off. He hummed, his eyes drilling into you like one of those toy lasers.

“Are you going home with anyone?” He asked, you almost choked on your drink. What was with this guy? How did you go from drinking the game two seconds ago to this??

He cut you off before you had the chance to say anything, “Because if not, I’d be willing to drive you back. Free of charge, of course.”

Free of charge my ass.

The actual charge probably consisted of a blow job in the back seat of his Toyota Corolla. Or white van, you were still figuring out the vibes on this guy.

You were stunned to speak, absolutely dumbfounded by the lack of social cues. It was like walking into the shallow end of a pool only to step into eight feet of water. To make it worse he reached forward, brushing a stray piece of hair out of your face. “Come on, don't leave me hanging. What do you say?”

Pound!’

Something hard hit the counter, making both your drinks wobble. You swiveled your head towards the noise, and low and behold your second greatest desire now stood between you and the mystery guy. Price.

His fist on the counter cut the conversation short as well as all the noise around him. Creating an oh-so-silent bar. The mystery man retracted his hand like he'd been scorched by an open flame. Looking up at Price with a bewildered expression, “What the fuck man?” He asked with a furrowed brow.

Price looked down at him, his expression unmoving. “Apologies, but I think it's time you go bother another person. Particularly one that isn't a part of my team.”

Whatever thoughts of arguing that the mystery man had immediately died as Price crossed his arms, puffing himself out like a bird when ruffling its feathers. You looked at both of them incredulously, sure you were glad Price came to the rescue but you could've handled it yourself. You didn't need him to come barreling through like a charging rhino to handle something you didn't even ask him to do.

You looked around to see everyone's heads turned in your direction, looking between Price and the other guy. Suddenly the alcohol in your stomach turned sour, and you felt your cheeks grow hot from the unwanted attention.

“Jeez, look I wasn't looking for any trouble. I didn't know she had a man, my bad.” He said, holding his hands up in surrender. Price didn't budge, guarding you like a stone wall. “Then off you go.” He said sternly.

The mystery guy nodded, sliding out from the barstool and walking past you and back to the table where he came from. The pub started to go back to normal, people picking up where they left off. Price turned back to you, his posture deflating a little. He looked down at you, and from the way you were looking back at him, he immediately knew something was amiss. “What?” He asked.

Your eyebrows slid lower on your face, your lips pursing into a tight frown. “What do you mean ‘what?’ What the fuck was that?” You whisper shouted at him, your cheeks still burning with embarrassment.

Price looked at you like you were crazy, a frown on his lips. “The bloke was touching you, you think I'm just going to stand by and let him paw at you?” He asked defensively.

Oh please. He barely even touched your face. It wasn’t great, but, it didn’t warrant Price making a whole spectacle. Especially not in front of the team, let alone a group of spectators. You looked back at Gaz, who was staring directly at you, then at Jhonny, who went back to talking to the girl.

“Can we talk about this somewhere else?” You signed, not wanting to be in earshot of Gaz who was most definitely eavesdropping. Friend or not, he couldn't know any more than he already did, the bastard was perceptive enough as it was.

Price glanced at Gaz and then back to you, his jaw working with tension. “Fine.” He huffed, you were a bit taken aback by the irritability in his tone. Why was he so mad now? He was the one who caused the scene. Nonetheless, you slipped out of the bar and followed Price as he stormed off.

You weaved through tables and people, trying your best to squeeze by without knocking into anything. Price walked into an emptier hallway that led to the restrooms. It was one of those creepy hallways with no overhead lights and weird pictures strung across the walls. You eyed the peeling wallpaper, it was like you'd stepped into a time capsule. Warm light poured from the main area of the bar, casting an orange hue against you and Price that was cut off by shadows.

He turned back to you, the furrow in his brow knitting the skin in between. He looked sexy. The thought popped into your mind before you had the sense to block it out. While very true you had to stand your ground. A hot man and some liquor in your system would not sway your resolve. (Maybe it could sway it a little.) focus!

“What was that? You charging up to that guy and slamming your fist on the counter.” You asked folding your arms over your chest.

Price leaned against the opposite wall, facing you. “I didn't charge up to him, I simply made it clear that he crossed a line.” He said defiantly. You raised a brow, unsure of what to make of the blanket statement.

“What line?” You asked, to which Price scoffed.

“He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, and don't think I didn't hear the way he was interrogating you. Come off it [Name], I know you're not stupid, you could see clear as I could what that fucker wanted.” He spat.

You exhaled, either the liquor was catching up to you or it was starting to get hot. “Well yeah, but he barely did anything, and that hardly warranted you taking matters into your own hands.” You defended, “-I could have just told him to fuck off or something. I didn't need you charging in like a bull and letting the entire bar know.”

You watched Price’s hand bawl into a fist, flexing the strain in his neck as he glared down at you. “What else was I supposed to do? Politely ask him to leave? When he's got his dirty hands on you like that-” He groaned, wiping his face with one hand.

“I'm not defenseless, I don't need you to rescue me.” You retorted, your hands holding your arms tighter to your chest.

Price rolled his eyes, “I know that. Don’t get smart with me.” He said pointing a finger your way, his mouth curling into a small snarl. “You don't get it, watching him practically undressing you with his eyes. It was fucking aggravating to watch- the way he looked at you.”

You were a bit surprised that he caught on to that, but you didn't feel like he was undressing you with his eyes per se. More like just intently staring, you pushed his accusatory finger down. “You're exaggerating, and you don't even know what he was thinking.” You tried to reason.

Price looked at you with a glare that would’ve made anyone else back down. But you didn't, as Jhonny once commented, you had the rather: “Fucking idiotic tendency to never be scared of Price.” What could you say? You liked a challenge.

He took a step forward, making you take one back. Your back hit the wall of the hallway. Like a caged animal, you were trapped. “I know exactly what he's thinking.” Price snarled, he grabbed your face. The rough pads of his fingers pressed into your hollow cheeks, his hand was so big it dwarfed your lower jaw.

“-Because I fucking think of the exact same things when I look at you.” His voice was harsh and low, sending ripples through your spine like shock waves. Price’s hand forced your face up so it was locked dead onto his, making you look into his eyes shadowed by the darkness. Flecks of light caught on his face, against his beard and jaw. If anyone were to walk into the hallway, it may have looked like Price was about to devour you like a starving carnivore.

You shuddered, he was so close it was driving your senses crazy. You could smell him, taste the venom in his voice, and God did it turn you on. You wanted more, you wanted to push his buttons. It felt good to drive him to the point of fury, to watch him slowly lose his composure. Years of hard discipline and mental strength all crumbling within minutes, and you wanted to watch.

“I don’t care if every man on the planet looks at me that way. I'm not yours, you don't get to put a claim on me. And you sure as hell don't get to make a scene in front of the entire bar and the team.” You spat back. Like an open flame, the wildfire between you and Price only seemed to burn brighter, faster, harder.

“-And what happened to being discrete huh? Last time I checked, scaring off any guy who looks in my direction isn't discrete.” You pried.

Price scowled down at you, his breathing starting to grow more labored. His hand clenched your face more forcefully, not enough to hurt but enough that you couldn't move. “You're right. You don't belong to me, but I am still your Captain, and you answer to me. Not to Gaz, or Jhonny, or Ghost. Not to some stupid prick who just wants a quick fuck. Me.”

Price was slowly getting angrier, to be honest, you rarely saw him this pissed. But deep down, it kind of did something to you. Knowing that you were the cause of his anger.

It was an ache that settled deep within your bones, making your blood coarse red hot. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe it was something more. Either way, you didn't care, you just needed to feel the satisfaction of breaking his ressolve. Stripping him of every facet that made him a man and revealing the primitive monster that lied underneath.

Your eyes narrowed into slits, “Fuck you Price.”

There was a beat of silence that stretched for far too long. It was so quiet you could almost feel the way your heart hammered in your chest. You made hard eye contact with him, watching the way his eyes widened and how his irises scanned over the expanse of your face.

“Fuck me?” He spoke, his voice hard and breathy. His hand forced your face up, straining the muscles in your neck. The back of your head was pressed into the hard wall with firm pressure. And to your surprise, the corner of his lip turned up into an amused smile. “Fuck me huh?” He repeated, and as suddenly as it appeared, his smile dropped.

“Fuck you.” He spat, surging forward into a clash of tongue, teeth, and lips. You quickly grabbed at his head, twisting your fingers through his hair. Your arms wrapped around him like a constricting snake.

The kiss was so rough you didn't even know if it could be classified as a kiss really. His body practically slammed into you, pinning you to the wall like a fly caught in a spider's web. One of his hands still clutched your face while the other was pressed flat into the wall beside your head. You heard one of the pictures that was hung on the wall next to you clatter to the ground. Everything seemed to fade into the background, all that mattered was the man who was currently pinning you to the wall.

Price was kissing you like a man starved. You forgot where you were, what you were doing, and why you felt so angry in the first place.

You distantly felt his hands move down to roughly cup your ass and then the back of your thighs. Price hoisted you up, trapping you between the wall and himself. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, grinding your hips against his. You groaned as you felt his tented pants against your clothed core, he was hard as a rock.

Your hands raked down the expanse of his back, fisting the soft cotton of his shirt between your fingers. Price took a few steps back, holding you to his chest still. His back hit the other wall with a thud, making the other pictures rattle. He kept maneuvering around like a blind man until his back hit the door to one of the bathrooms. It gave way to his weight, swinging backward.

“Price what-” Your words were cut off by another open-mouthed kiss. You returned it just as eagerly, maybe asking what he was doing could wait another minute. Price’s back hit the door again, one of his hands scrambling for the lock. He carried you across the empty bathroom, bouncing off the walls and counters as you went.

He managed to open the door to the last stall tucked away in the corner. Slamming against the stall you kissed him like an animal, clawing at his back and rolling your hips into his.

After another minute you pulled away for a breath, panting like you'd just swam up for air. His breath fanned your lips, thick with his taste and your mixed spit. The dingy bathroom was poorly lit, casting everything inside it in a dark light. You swallowed, “What are we doing in here?” You panted.

Price’s hands squeezed your ass, “Making sure nobody else can see what I'm about to do to you.” His voice was heavy and thick, like molasses sugar. The richness of it clouded your senses, making you loopy. Without warning he pulled you off him, setting you down on your feet with a hand tangled in your hair.

“On the ground.” He spoke, more of a command than anything.

You blinked, either it was the round of drinks or just his effect on you but the words barely processed. “What?” You breathed, your eyebrows knitting together.

Price gave your head a sharp yank, a surprised gasp slipping past your lips. His thick digits curled around your hair tighter, pulling your scalp taunt. “I said on the ground, I know you can listen to me.” He said, his voice was rough now, scratching against your eardrums like sandpaper. You knew you were in far too deep to back out now. (Not that you wanted to). So, you obeyed, much like an animal self domesticating itself to survive.

Your knees pressed into the cool, hard tile. Price still held your hair, craning your neck up to look him in the eyes. You saw it, the small restraint he always held, like a second face he wore around everyone else- it was gone. There was pure, unabashed want in his eyes. You felt your lungs deflate, the breath leaving your body. Hands that held his thighs dug into his jeans, an unspoken message that screamed ‘go.’

The adams apple in his throat bobbed, and Price’s other hand migrated to his belt. Gradually he unclasped the silver belt buckle, “You’re a smart girl [Name]. I know you didn't just say all of that before cause’ you wanted to prove a point to me.” He spoke, sliding the leather band open and pushing the top button of his pants through the slit. “-I know you're not that fucking stupid. So tell me…why did you? Just to get under my skin? To rile me up?”

Your throat ran dry, eyes glued to his fingers as they slid down the zipper. Preening to watch the way his boxers spilled out of the narrow opening. Price yanked your head back again with a sharp yelp on your part.

“Look at me. Not my cock, you'll have plenty of time to look at it later.” He breathed, pools of navy boring in your eyes. His pupils dilated, the soft red that colored his cheeks and ears doing little to soothe the roaring flame that burned between your legs.

You were at a loss for words, to be honest, you weren't completely sure why either. A sense of curiosity? It was hard to put into speech, “I…I wanted to see what you'd do.” You answered, making his eyebrow twitch up.

“Thats all? Not because you have a fascination with me? With fucking with my goddamn head. You don't like driving me insane?” He spat, palming a hand over himself. Your eyes flicked down, watching the fabric of his briefs stretch over the bulge.

You swallowed, looking at him tentatively. “I wanted to see the real you. Not the front, not the put-together Captain. You.”

A silence hung in the air, one that casted a thick layer of tension between you. Price’s lips turned upwards, a darkly amused chuckle echoing through the empty bathroom. “You already had me, baby.” He reached his hand into his briefs, pulling out his thick cock. He groaned, rubbing his hand up and down his appendage, “Fucking temptress that's what you are. You want me to not hold back, is that it? To fuck you stupid?”

You couldn't take your eyes off him even if you'd wanted to. No matter how many times you saw his dick it never got old, all you could do was marvel at it. He was big, and more importantly, he was thick. You watched his hand stroke the peachy skin, watching the heaviness of its girth and the reddened mushroom tip that beaded with milky pre-cum.

Price laughed, eyeing the way you looked at him like a starving animal. “This what you wanted? What all the fuss was about?” You couldn't help but nod, wetting your lips just at the sight. “-Tell me you want it. That you want me to fuck your throat raw.” He spoke, Price held himself just out of reach. Like a cat with a feathery toy, you were completely entranced.

You nodded, “Price fuck my throat.” The words sounded so odd coming from your mouth, so raw and crude it almost surprised you.

Price gave your head a small tug, a satisfactory grin on his face. He looked down at you, nodding his head to you as if to say ‘Go ahead.’ You could barely contain yourself as your hands slid around his cock, feeling the burn of hot skin beneath your palms. He was so thick your one hand almost couldn't wrap around his girth, two hands would have to do the job.

The weight of his length felt good, oh yeah, and not to mention that he was harder than a metal pole. Hastily you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, swirling your tongue over the bulbous tip.

Price’s head fell back against the stall door, his hips twitched forward. A hearty groan fell from his parted lips. The hand in your hair gave you an encouraging squeeze. You hummed, letting the vibrations from your voice reverberate off his dick. He tasted like skin, musky and salty, leaving an earthy kind of aftertaste that clung to your tongue like syrup.

You separated with a lewd ‘pop, watching the muscles in Price’s neck strain. Dipping your head you licked a stripe up his cock, coating the length in a thin layer of spit. One hand stroked him up and down while the other dug into his thigh, leaving small crescents into the fabric of his pants. Beads of pre-cum spilled out from the small slit of his tip, you let your thumb swipe over the head generously lubing up his base.

Price’s hands tightened in your hair, “Fuck- that's it. Just like that pretty girl.” He panted, earning a pleased hum from your lips.

Without warning you took his cock back into your mouth, sinking down the furthest you could without gagging. The gummy walls of your throat tightened around the foreign object, accompanied by a wet gulping noise. You inhaled through your nostrils, trying your best to take him further.

Price cursed loudly, the sound of his voice bouncing across the tile walls. His cock twitched in your mouth. You moved your head down then forward, repeating the motion until you found a steady rhythm of bobbing down on his dick. What your mouth couldn't reach your hand made up for, squeezing and stroking faster and faster. He was so wound up you could practically feel the tension under his skin.

You pulled off of him, your mouth agape as you panted. Spit and other fluid gleamed against your lips like a gloss. Price looked down at you, confusion written across his face with a tad of concern.

“Are you okay?” He said through heavy breaths, to which you nodded. However, you shot him a stern look.

“You're holding back.” You panted, staring at him with a knowing glare. Price looked at you, unsure of how to respond to your accusatory tone. “-I said-Fuck. My. Throat.”

His face hardened, and the same animalistic gleam came back. “Fine. You want me to let go? I can let go.”

That was all it took before his hand wrapped around your hair like a rope. Pushing you down his cock inch by fucking inch. He moaned through his teeth, “Fuck- you know what to do if it gets to be too much.” He said breathlessly. It was true, you did know you always had an out, but this was way more fun.

Your jaw went slack to accommodate him, the stretch of him down your throat sending full-body shivers down your spine. Then he started to move. Your hands found his thighs, digging your nails into his pants.

Price made good on his promise, fucking your throat like it was his life’s goal. The tip of his cock hit the back of your throat making you almost gag, hot tears stung your eyes. It was rough and desperate, he used your throat like he hated your guts. And you couldn't help but love every second of it, you managed to crack him. The hard shell he kept, and the walls he built up, were slowly crumbling down.

Then, as quickly as he pushed you down he pulled you off of him. You sucked in a desperate breath, making a small noise of confusion. You stared at Price with a quizzical look, one that bordered on ‘wtf??’

Price looked wrecked, his hair tussled and cheeks tinged red. Small beads of sweat trickled down his temples, but he smiled. “I'm sorry baby, did you want me to keep going?” He exhaled, an almost pitying aspect to his tone. The hand in your hair slid down to cup your chin, a rough thumb swiping over your puffy bottom lip.

“Why’d you stop?” You frowned up at him, and try as you might the disappointment in your voice was clear as day.

Price cupped your jaw, forcing your head back further. “Because as much as I love your mouth, I would much rather cum in that beautiful cunt of yours.”

You tried not to choke, refusing to give him the satisfaction that his words sent whole body shivers through you. But, it did sound heavenly, so you nodded and let him help you to your feet again. From there he guided you up against the stall, your palms flat on the cool door.

Price’s chest went flush with your back, his face tucked into where your shoulder met your neck. His hot breath fanned against you and the hairs of his scruff tickled your skin. Thick hands found your hips, sliding to your crotch to unzip your pants. You tried not to let your breath hitch as he palmed a hand over your clothed cunt.

“Jesus- this wet for me already? Haven't even touched you yet, but here you are, soaking your panties like a slag.” Price murmured into your nape, and even though you couldn't see it, you could feel his smirk.

You bit down on your cheek, “Big talk from someone who could barely keep it together while getting a simple blowy.” Your pants slid down and a sharp blow was delivered to your behind. You yelped, caught off guard by the harsh slap.

“Careful.” He murmured, his voice reverberating off the shell of your ear. Your eyes stung with tears as the burning sting of his mark cooled into a low ache. “-We don't have a whole day for you to think of a good comeback before someone comes knocking on that door. So I’d try to cooperate unless you want me to leave you high and dry. Which I'm perfectly fine with doing.”

Liar. He was bluffing, but Price was just as stubborn as you were and would most definitely make you wait an unseemly amount of time just to cum. So, for once in your life, you listened.

Trying to bite back your moans, you stood statue-still as Price tugged the offending garment to the side. Two fingers slid along your folds before plunging inside with a wet squelch. “Fuck, you're tight. You sure you can take me?” He breathed, and you threw your head back into his chest. He fingered you slowly, mapping out every crevice and dip with the pads of his fingers.

It wasn't enough. You needed more, “Price if you don't fuck me right now, I swear to god, I will do it myself.” Okay, so maybe that sounded a little bit more desperate than intimidating, but it got the message across.

You felt his breathy chuckle against your ear, and suddenly, his fingers slipped out of you. “Yes ma'am,” he said. However, the empty void left by his fingers was soon replaced by the burning contact of his cock against your swollen folds. Price groaned as he slid himself back and forth, gathering up your slick to use as lube.

A shudder ran down your spine, your palms pressing against the door harder. You pushed your hips back against him, earning another pleased hum from your Captain. You could barely breathe, there was a burning tension that ate away at your core. Like a rope stretched too tight, all you could do was wait for it to snap apart.

His tip slowly slipped inside your hole, the burning stretch of his girth sending the hairs at the back of your neck up. Inch by inch he seethed himself into you, “Price-holy fuck.” You moaned, even with how wet you were, no amount of lube would ever fully prepare you for the sheer mass of him.

Price drew you in, letting your walls stretch and mold to his dick. His hands grabbed at your hip and lower stomach, holding you in place. His beard brushed against your collar as he placed a few nipping kisses on your neck. “I know baby, I know, taking me so fuckin’ well. Shit, this pussy was made for me.” He murmured into your sweaty skin.

Without warning, his hips drew back only to snap forward again. You couldn't help the unseemly moan that fell from your lips, he pounded into your cunt like it was his last day alive. The sloppy sounds of skin echoed through the room.

“Oh my god- Price.” You choked out, the side of your face pressed against the door. “-feels so good.” You panted between wet slaps as his hips drove into your behind. You could barely think over the sound of your moans, each second that his dick plunged back into your sopping pussy felt like sparks being lit inside of you.

He moaned, his voice resounding across the shell of your ear. A hand snaked its way up your stomach and cupped your neck like a choker necklace. His skin burned, thick fingers curling around your scruff. It didn't hurt but it was firm, making you pliant to his body. “That's it. Take my cock, let me fuck you like the slut you are.” He grid out, “-this pussy knows what she wants, and it's me. Nobody else can fuck you like I do. Nobody else can give you what you need, what you deserve.”

Your cunt fluttered around him, causing his hips to stutter before driving back into you with so much force your hips hit the door.

Knock knock knock’

You're body went rigid, and all the air in your lungs seemed to escape your ribs. Fuck! You had totally forgotten that you were in a public bathroom for Christ's sake. Price had locked the door, but that didn't mean people wouldn't try and come in.

Knock knock knock!’

It was louder this time, more impatient. You tried to look back at Price, but his hand on your neck held your head still. He wasn't stopping.

“Not so fast girly, I’d like to finish what I started.” He chuckled, angling his hips as he slammed back into your cunt. The head of his cock nuzzled against the spongy muscle of your g-spot. You were so caught off guard you didn't have time to cover the absolutely shameless moan that slipped from your lips.

Price groaned, and his cock twitched. “Fuuckk that's it, let them hear you. Let everyone know how good I'm making you feel, how good I'm fucking this pussy.” You could barely process his words, everything was starting to build up to the point you were almost seeing stars. “-Come on baby, cum for me. Cum on my cock.” He panted through firm thrusts.

A sharp cry rang through the empty walls, you saw white. Body pulsing as the waves of euphoria washed over your body like the tide. Each thrust sending new shocks down your spine, prolonging every second of your orgasm. Price’s hips stuttered, a loud curse ringing from his lips as he came inside you.

What followed was an extended silence that was filled with heavy pants. You could barely stand, Price’s chest flush with your back, his head leaning against your shoulder.

“Think they got the message?” Price mused, his voice thick with exhaustion. You couldn't help the laugh that rose from your chest, listening in for another knock. When none came you sighed, “Guess so.” You breathed.

After another minute of rest Price pulled off of you, leaving a trail of cum seeping down your thigh. Not to mention your sweaty back and all-around messy appearance. Price simply grinned at you when you shot him a nasty glare, using some toilet paper to clean up the fluids. “Whoops.” He shrugged.

It was a good thing you were on the pill, you might've slapped him if otherwise. He chuckled and pressed a ‘sorry’ kiss to your temple, “Come on soldier, you look like you've been through a war.” He quipped. You didn't even try to laugh at that one.

“Funny.” You said sarcastically, but once he opened the door after redressing you, you froze. The reflection in front of you looked well…like you had just been fucked in a bathroom stall. Small bites and hickeys littered your neck, poking up to where it was obvious to see. You hit his shoulder, “You dumbass, I look like I've been attacked by a swarm of mosquitoes! What the hell is the team going to think Mr. Designated Driver?”

Price looked at your reflection too, scratching the back of his neck. “We’ll find you a coat.” He settled on.

There was a small beat of silence, you looked back at him. “A coat, and I get to skip running drills for next week. Then you're forgiven.”

He looked back at you, “Deal.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You really shouldn’t have been doing this. It was stupid, completely idiotic. (maybe not as stupid as hooking up with your captain in a pub bathroom.) But alas, John Price could charm you into anything.

The cold night air of autumn nipped at your nose, making your face feel numb. Somehow you still felt the breeze blow through your bones while bundled up in a large coat and scarf. Hands in your pockets, you tried your best to walk inconspicuously through the small town streets next to the base.

It was late, past lights out. Just minutes before you were getting ready for bed. However, when Price called you up out of the blue asking for you to meet him for a night walk, curiosity got the best of you. To say it was odd would be an understatement, but you knew better than to pass up the opportunity. The nightlife in the little town was pretty nice, with Halloween now in full swing and all.

Small pumpkins and candles littered the ground while stores and bars were strung with purple and green lights. For a second you almost forgot you were supposed to be meeting Price. You checked your phone, reading over his message again.

[Captain]: The place is by the park, on 82th Ave. It’s an outdoor pop-up, festive. You can't miss it.

You looked over at one of the street signs, 79th Ave, it said. At least you were getting closer, directions weren't really your strong suit so all you could really do was hope for the best.

If anyone saw you out of base, especially with Price you’d 100% raise a few eyebrows not to mention you'd be in deep trouble. So you dipped your head as low as it could go to conceal your identity. Was this behavior one of a paranoid schizophrenic? It was possible. But after the phesasco at the bar, you were okay with being weary.

You heard a soft crowd of voices coming from a distance away. Walking towards it you saw a playground lit up with small lights, two children with what looked like their parents chasing them across the woodchips. More adults walking around the greener outskirts of the ground, laughing and holding dogs on leashes.

It stirred something good inside you, like a warm feeling that you didn't often get. You stopped walking, just watching the scene play out like a domestic storybook.

“Took you long enough.”

You jumped, whipping around to see the deep voice behind you. Standing there was Price, dressed in a thick coat with worn-out jeans. He held two plastic cups in his hands, steam rising off the mystery substance inside.

“You scared me,” You deadpanned. Your eyes went from the drinks in his hands back to his face. “-What’s with the cups?”

Price rolled his eyes, nodding behind him to the pop-up stand. “It’s cold, so I got you something to warm up.” He handed you one, which you accepted. Raising it to your nose, you sniffed the steam. It was warm, thick with spices, and sweet. You looked back at Price with a quizzical look, to which he smiled. “It’s cider.”

You raised an eyebrow, looking at him skeptically. “Not the spiked kind I hope.” Holding the cup a bit away from you like it was radioactive. Price's eyes crinkled, chuckling as he shook his head.

“No, not spiked. We've got drills in the morning, I wouldn't do that to you.” With his confirmation, you took a sip, pulling your scarf down so you could drink. The hot liquid burned your tongue, but the flavor was worth it as it slid down into your stomach. Your eyes flickered up from the rim of the cup, looking at Price.

His eyes were on you, looking at you with a rare kind of softness. But after the split second of eye contact, he was the first to look away. You wiped your lips of the remaining sweetness, “Price what are we doing here?” You asked.

He cocked an eyebrow, “I thought I told you we were going on a night walk.” He said nonchalantly, earning a half-grunt on your part.

“I know that, but why am I here? I doubt that you're incapable of walking alone.” You pointed out, but Price just shrugged.

“Good company.” He said serrupticously, a wry smile stretched onto his lips. “-Are you really that averse to spending time with me? I'd hope after all this time spent together I wouldn't need a reason to want to be around you.” Price started walking, and out of instinct, you followed behind him until you were shoulder-to-shoulder with him.

“You're a bad lair.” You said, taking another sip of your cider. You watched the calm nightlife and a thought bubbled into your mind. Maybe to an onlooker you and Price probably looked like a couple just going on a stroll. It wasn't rocket science to see that there was a fraction of tension between you. Your cheeks pinked at the thought, but you pushed it away as soon as it came.

Price was also looking at the surrounding people, an odd look on his face. Something akin to yearning or want. He must've felt your stare because he spoke up. “Inquiring minds?”

You averted your eyes, “Sorry.” To which he shook his head, taking a sip of his drink.

“Don't bother, it’s fine.” He said cooly, his eyes fixed on a family standing a few feet away. You looked back at them then back to Price. A dawning washing over you in an instant. Your eyes furrowed in question.

“You uh… have a family?” Jesus that sounded choppy, you cringed at yourself. He looked at you a little surprised but shook his head.

“I mean sure. Everyone does, at least at one point. But if you're asking if I do currently then no.” You nodded, feeling a little bad for asking. It wasn't too uncommon in your field, but it still put a grim mood in the air. You tried thinking of ways you could rectify it.

“So…no crazy ex-wife or estranged children that I need to be worried about?” You said humorously, when Price smiled, a part of you sighed in relief.

He shook his head again, glancing at you. “No ex-wife or estranged children, no.” You smiled and nodded, but that raised another question.

“How come?” you asked simply.

He shot you a pointed look, “You're asking me that like I'm ancient. I'm not that much older than you are,” He breathed. “-But if you have to know I guess I just never had the time. It's a bit testy trying to form long-term connections with people when you're in this line of work.”

You nodded in understanding, he was right. The long deployments, chances of not coming back, weird hours, it all would put a strain on a relationship. It didn't stop some, however, sometimes after not seeing the good in humanity for so long you lose the ability to connect with anyone. Especially ‘normal’ people.

Your mind flashed to an old ex-boyfriend who used to talk at length about how cool it was that you got to “kill people for a living.” You didn't see it that way. Desensitized or not, it was still a human life you were taking, it took a toll, even if you were getting paid for it.

“I get that. It's hard to commit to someone you don't get to see most of the time.” You shrugged, a part of you wanted to ask about every relationship he'd ever had. More importantly how you fared against them. And for some odd reason, you felt uncomfortable knowing that he had been with other women. Maybe it was just basic biology or primitive instinct.

Price nodded, “If I could I would've.” He glanced back at the family, watching as the dad swept up his toddler into a hug. It was bittersweet, the way Price looked at the display, dangerously pulling at your heartstrings.

You gave him a weary smile, “There’s still time. Like you said, you're not ancient. Why not just retire and settle down with someone?”

Price looked back at you for a split second, not saying anything. He looked back out at the dark trees, the leaves rustling in the cold wind, and the lights that wrapped around the park. “Maybe at one point that was an option, but not now. I'm not cut out for it, my life is here. I'm no good at civilian shit, so I best stick to what I know.”

You didn't know what to say to that, it was a tough pill to swallow. It was silent for a few seconds. But, You nudged your shoulder with his, “Well then, I guess you're stuck with me.” Offering a somewhat awkward smile to go along with it.

Price looked down at you as he walked, his blue eyes were dark like the ocean. You didn't want to look away, you wanted to swim in his thoughts, drown yourself in his pools of navy grey. Eyes that housed so much hostility and venom towards you now bore into your own with a warmth that struck you like a match. His lips turned up, “Guess there are worse places to be.”

Your smile came back, and the mood between you ebbed into a lighter, happier atmosphere. Taking a last swig of your cider you shook your head, “You guess? Need I remind you who asked me to be here?”

Price chuckled, doing the same and tossing his empty cup into a nearby garbage. “Alright, you win. I am grateful you came, like I said, all in good company.”

The conversation faded into a comfortable silence, and you and Price walked around the park. You watched as more and more people slowly started to dwindle, leaving it emptier than when you got there. After doing a sort of loop you both agreed to start walking back to base, and so you did. Shoulder to shoulder you walked with him through the small streets and shops.

Once you started coming up on the familiar large building a strong gust of air hit you. Your eyes shut tightly and your nose scrunched. When you did open your eyes back up Price was looking at you, you stared back at him. “What?”

Price snickered, “Wind got you pretty good. There's a leaf in your hair.” He pointed out, to which you blindly started to try and fish out said leaf. He shook his head at your feeble efforts, stopping your hands.

“I’ll get it. You're just messing it up.” He breathed, carefully his large hands combed through your head. Plucking out a pine leaf and a small fuzz, “There.” He said proudly.

He flicked the unwanted objects off to the side, but one of his hands never left your hair. He was almost holding your face in his palm, you blinked up at him. Wondering why he wasn't letting you go, “Is there something else?” You asked.

Price looked at you, licking his lips before pursing them in a line. Slowly he shook his head, “No.” It was silent for another beat, the soft puffs of your breath visible in the cold. You watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed.

“Tell me you don't want me to kiss you.” He breathed.

Without a second thought, you shook your head no, “Price kiss me.” It was almost alarming to you how naturally it came out. You barely even processed your own words.

And as his lips met yours in a chaste, soft kiss, you let yourself melt into him. You let him in.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You had five months until your time with 141 came to an end. In that time you had managed to befriend the whole team, make enemies with your captain, kiss said Captain, go on to have a very explicit no-strings-attached relationship with him, and now…this.

What was ‘this?’ Well, you didn't really quite know yourself. But after that night when he kissed you outside of base without any intention of hooking up with you, your clear-cut relationship with him became a jumbled mess of suppressed emotion. No longer were intimate gestures limited to sexual encounters, in fact, they were frequently more domestic.

Was this all of Price’s doing? No. It was both, both of you were an intimacy-starved mess. But you couldn't help it, his private quarters were so nice and his king-sized bed seemed to fit both of you nicely on the nights you couldn't sleep. And what of it that you helped him with paperwork into the wee hours of the night? He hated being stuck up in his office alone, it was a kind gesture. Now you didn't even have to make your morning tea and coffee because whenever you made your way into the small break room a fresh cup was always sitting on the counter for you in Price’s signature mug.

And on your weekends off? Oh, you bet your sorry (but not really,) ass he was stuck to your hip like glue.

Without knowing it, you and your captain had almost formed a routine together. One that slowly started filling the lonely silence of your day with his body, his voice, his presence.

You knew every scar on his body, you'd mapped them out like constellations. You learned something new about him every day too, it was exciting yet familiar all at once. Unbenoiced to you, 141 and by extension Price, had become home.

All of this had somehow been accumulating without your knowledge until now. To which this realization that you were a little too fond of your captain hit you like a truck. Bringing you to your current position, hunched over a small table that was tucked away in the corner of the break room. It was wayyy past lights out, but laying in your bed left with your thoughts and anxiety sounded nightmarish. A steaming cup of tea sat on the table a few inches away, (in Price’s signature mug of course.)

Just as you were about to finally take a sip, someone walked in. You sat straight up, your heart running a million miles an hour. On top of that, you almost knocked your tea over. Who the hell was coming in at almost one in the morning???

It was Gaz.

You placed a hand over your racing heart, letting out the breath you didn't know you were holding. “Jesus- you scared the shit out of me Garrick.” You said wearily.

Gaz stood at the door in his beat-up grey sweatshirt and plaid pajama pants. He looked a little rough, well, as rough as someone with his looks could be. He scratched the back of his head, “Sorry, didn't think anyone would be up this late.” Dark eyebags colored his smooth brown skin, making him look like he was two steps from passing out.

Your eyebrows furrowed in a slight amount of worry, “rough night?” He nodded, walking into the room, and making a beeline for the refrigerator.

“Pretty much, figured it was better to be awake than sleeping if sleep wasn't doing me any good.” He yawned, grabbing one of those refrigerated protein bars from the fridge. You nodded a silent understanding. Nightmares were commonplace, nobody talked about them, but everyone had a shared understanding of what went on in and after you woke up. Sometimes it was hard to distinguish where the dream ended and reality began.

He looked back at you as he tore the wrapper off, “What about you? You look like shit…so I want to say you're in the same boat?” Gaz took a large bite of his bar.

You groaned, your head falling back down on the wood table. “Gee, thanks. But not really, just sorting out some other business.” You said bitterly.

Gaz hummed in understanding, but when you looked back up he was pulling the opposite end chair out. He sat himself across from you, folding his arms as he ate. “Okay, what's up then?” He said plainly.

You blinked at him, “What? No, I'm not just going to tell you. It's private.” You said shaking your head and putting your hands up as if to block his question. Gaz looked at you unimpressed, raising a single eyebrow.

“Uh-huh, does it have something to do with Price?” He said, staring at you with the intensity of a laser.

You almost choked on your spit, looking at him like he'd just killed your family cat in front of you. Your mouth agape, “Absolutely not. Why would you think it’d be about Price?” You said quickly.

Gaz simply looked at you, raising both his eyebrows at you. A silent communication of ‘Are you serious?’ was said by his stare. After another moment of the staring contest, you gave up, dropping your head back down with a groan. “I'm so fucked.” You said defeated.

He perked up, “Spill.” Was all he said.

You covered your mouth, almost as if to stop yourself from saying anything. This was so breaking every agreement you and Price had talked about. But frankly, you were going insane keeping it to yourself. And maybe Gaz was the best person to tell, as much as you loved Ghost and Soap, they were useless at keeping secrets.

You glanced back up to Gaz, his brown eyes intently staring at you. Your resolve started to crumble, “I think I’m in love with him.” Whispered, the haunting words magnifying the gravity of the situation you found yourself in.

Gaz’s eyes shot wider like he’d just been injected with 1,000g of caffeine. His mouth fell open, and the half-eaten bar in his hands dropped onto the table. You both sat there staring at each other with similar mortified expressions. He shut his mouth, “I-Well that wasn't really what I expected to hear.” He said agast.

You buried your face into your hands, groaning. “Fuck I know- I don't even know where that came from. But we've been like…messing around with each other for a few months, and I thought it was just that.” You sighed, rubbing your face with your palms. “But now everything is like complicated, I just let my feelings take the reins and got ahead of myself. Now I don't know what to do and nobody knows because obviously, I couldn't tell anyone. After all, either of us could get in trouble.”

Gaz sat silent as you rambled on, “-I’m still not sure exactly what I'm feeling. I've never felt this way about anyone else, I've had boyfriends, but not a weird hookup situation. So, I'm not sure how one really goes about this.” You looked down at the table, taking a breath. “So, does that answer your question?” You breathed.

He stared at you, dumbfounded. “So that rumor you got so mad over was true?” He said lamely, to which you groaned and threw your hands up in the air.

“No!” You whisper shouted, “-I mean no but yes. The rumor came first, that night I stormed off Price kissed me. And after that things just kinda… got carried away.” You said sheepishly, feeling a bit guilty.

Gaz let out a deep sigh, leaning back in his chair. “Jesus [Name], I knew something was going on between you but I didn't think it went that deep.” He ran a hand over his chin, scratching his jaw. “-So…you and Price have been secretly fucking, but just recently you realized that this uh, arrangement, has gone to shit because you now have feelings for him. Am I following?”

You pursed your lips into a tight line, “Pretty much.”

He nodded and hummed in concentration, “Okay, but what changed? What made you realize you had feelings? Because to the rest of the team, it still looks like you’re at each other's throats.” Gaz said, crossing his arms.

You thought about it for a moment, trying to pull maybe a specific event from your memory. “I guess it just kinda built up…I mean he just changed. Sure we still fight but it’s more like banter now. He kisses me, and he holds me, he's funny and sweet…it's almost like I get to see an entirely new version of him that I just didn't see before.”

Gaz blinked at you, seemingly surprised. “Actually?” He said, stunned. To which you nodded aggressively.

“Yes- he's totally done a 180. But in a good way, he's still the same asshole but he's loving and caring too. And I feel like I'm pulling my teeth out just staying in a situation where he makes me feel like I mean so much, but then I have to go and pretend I hate him.” (you still sometimes did.)

Gaz listened to you speak, holding his chin while he thought about your words. After you were done, all he could do was sigh, “Well…shit. Half of me wants to pat you on the back while the other half wants to slap you across the face for being stupid.”

You scrunched your nose, holding your hands up in surrender. “Please don't, I have enough problems as it is. I don't need to add a black eye into the mix.”

Gaz breathed an amused laugh, though, it sounded more weary than you would've liked. Even if it was the worst idea in the world to tell him, you felt better now that it was off your chest. You looked down at the table, “So, what do I do now?”

He opened his mouth to respond but all that came out was silence. He was just as lost as you were.

You looked at him hopelessly, “Come on man, give me something.”

Gaz looked down at the table, pursing his lips in a tight line. Obviously, he had an idea, but he just wasn't saying anything. “What if you tried to make it work with him?” He proposed.

Your eyes widened a fraction, your mouth hanging open in what only could be described as ‘gobsmacked.’ “You're kidding right?” You asked, your tone nearly laughable.

He shook his head, crumbling up the wrapper of his protein bar and tossing it into a nearby trashcan. His shoulders rose with a sigh, “No I'm not. I mean… why not just try? It sounds to me like you've got a fighting chance to make things work.” He said encouragingly.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, your eyes squeezing shut. “Two minutes ago you said you wanted to slap me, and now you're telling me that I should go for it?” You said incredulous.

Gaz held his hands up in surrender, “Yes, but that was before I knew everything. I just thought you were fucking the Captain at first, which is still completely idiotic. But it sounds to me like both of you are emotionally invested in each other.” He said putting his hands back down, “-And you're only here for a couple more months right? Just keep it on the down-low then you can do whatever you want. I'm like ninety percent sure that Price likes you too.”

You groaned, your head falling on the table with a clunk. “Only ninety percent?” Peeking up to look at him, his face morphing into one of scrunched wash cloth.

“Maybe like eighty-five. But those are still good odds in my book.” He said guiltily, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You're not helping.” You sighed, resuming your dramatic pity party. Gaz rolled his eyes at your antics, placing a comforting hand on your head and giving it an encouraging pat. “Hey, I'm not saying you have to do some big confession. All I'm doing is suggesting that communicating with him may bring some good. Like Soap said that one time, Price acts differently around you, I think you've got some good chances.”

You finally looked up at him again, his face a pitying smile. “Think about it.” He said finally, leaving you with more on your mind than you originally started with.

“Okay, I'll think about it.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Four months to go and nothing had happened. Well, not necessarily, the team had continued to train, your sneaking around with Price was still going, and the world kept spinning. Turns out that realizing one's feelings for another doesn't cause the sun to explode. Fascinating stuff.

However, there was still no confession of feelings of any kind. The two of you danced around your ‘relationship’ like it was a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode. Maybe it was for the greater good, some things were just better off unsaid.

In the meantime, your focus had shifted in light of new events that were fast approaching. You still cringed thinking of your first real mission back in Urzik, and while nothing horrible happened, it still left you with a sour taste on your tongue. There were small things 141 had been doing but now a new mission was right around the corner. There was still little to no word about rouge commander Shepard nor an explanation of the abandoned facility you had raided months back.

You still didn't even know if the two were connected, probably not. But it was still possible, maybe best not to think too hard about it. After all, you weren't the brains behind the operations, you were just the pon they sent to die in their place.

The air around 141 had become tense again, much like before Urzik. Everyone was on edge, especially Price. You were happy to take the edge off most of the time, but there were some things that sex just couldn't fix. And this fell into that category.

You were sitting on an office chair in one of the conference rooms around base. The rest of the team stood close to the large wooden table or sat in the other scattered chairs. The tension in the room was thick, nobody said a word. All focus was on Price, who stood a few feet apart from the group, flipping through a manilla folder. His eyebrows furrowed in tension and his lips pulled into a subtle frown.

He set the folder down, “We’re going back to Urzik.”

You could almost feel the shift in the mood from bad to worse. But before you could voice your complaints Soap beat you to it. “We’re going back to that shite hole? After what happened last time I would have assumed someone figured out that we should stay out of the terrorists and the Russians assholes.”

Price sighed, punching the bridge of his nose. “We don't know if they were terrorists back at the compound. And Urzik hasn't been under Russian occupation since 2019.” He said, earning a half laugh from both Soap and Ghost.

“Come on Cap, you don't even believe that crap they're pushing.” Soap chuckled, his arms crossed over his chest. Leaning against the wall behind you.

While it was true that Urzikstan had been liberated from Russian rule, some of the men under General Markov’s command had disappeared after his death. Leaving some loose ends for the CIA and SAS to clean up. There had been some word of Markov’s men teaming up with local militant groups who despised Urzik’s central government. But it wasn't confirmed, nor viable.

Price shook his head, “It doesn't matter if I believe it or not. The point is that we have a job to do and we’re not going to let past affairs get the better of our judgment.” He ran his hand over the scruff of his beard, “-Laswell wouldn't be sending us in again if she didn't have a good reason to. They have reasonable intel that just outside of Riyzabbi there's an abandoned bazaar where all of the goods from the compound were relocated.”

Ghost chimed in, “So they're sending us on the same wild goose chase they did before? Who's to say they don't pull the same shite as last time?”

You nodded along with his words, he had a point. Price grunted, waving him off. “Like I said before, they have better intel. I'm asking you to trust me, if I see anything I don't like we’re out. Whatever is in there, we have the means to put it to an end.”

Everyone fell silent, taking in the information. It was a while before anyone spoke again, Soap sighed. “If I have to eat that awful food back at checkpoint base I’m quitting on the spot.”

For a second the mood shifted, and you laughed, but the reality of the situation was hovering over you like a looming storm cloud.

For a brief moment, you locked eyes with Price, and his stare told you everything you needed to know. He was just as frustrated, if not more so. His gaze shifted again, staring down at the table with an intensity you couldn't fathom. “Everyone’s dismissed. We leave at 0500 in 72 hours.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

As Price said, 72 hours later, you were back in the air, flying to Urzikstan. An ache gnawed at the back of your head, making the already dreary ride more depressing. You were too uncomfortable to sleep and too tired to stay awake. Creating an odd out-of-body experience that you had the “pleasure” of basking in for the whole 5-hour flight.

After you had landed at the checkpoint base you took a moment to reacquaint yourself with the landscape. Not much had changed aside from a few new tents and other minor additions to the camp. You felt a sense of Deja Vu looking at the old dining hall tent and medical area. Memories from your and Price’s first kiss flooded your mind, under different circumstances, it might have been somewhat pleasant recounting the moment. But now, it only made you feel profoundly sad. It was nostalgic-back when everything was simpler between the two of you.

Whatever was bubbling up inside you, you shoved it down as far as it could go. Hating someone was a lot more straightforward than loving them.

You made your way to the ‘barracks,’ setting what little things you had onto the small cot. Everyone else was just as miserable as you were, obviously, this wasn't their first choice for sleeping quarters. A part of you wished it wasn't daytime, it would be easier to sleep away the anxiety and headache.

You had until dark to do as you pleased, when nightfall came, you were going to be loaded up into the trucks again. From there, you'd go to Riyzabbi, and once it was clear to do so, to the bazaar.

Just like the last time you were here, you felt a deep sense of dread. One that you couldn't pinpoint, nor could you explain away with ‘just nerves’. There was too much that you didn't know, and too little payoff. The only advantage 141 had was the element of surprise, and even that wasn't confirmed. A small part of you felt anger towards Laswell, she probably knew that there was something off about this mission, and yet she was sending you and the team directly into the pit of lions.

To quell the sense of impending doom, you started to wander around the checkpoint base. Not sure where you were going or what your end goal was, you continued walking. That was until you heard someone's voice bleeding out from one of the tent walls. Their tone was accusatory, malicious even, it was laced with so much venom you could feel your skin recoil. It didn't sound familiar, but the voice who came after it did.

“You know just as well as I do it's a suicide mission. I’m not sending my team out there to die. All for some fucking game of territory monopoly and protecting Shepard.”

Price.

The other voice spoke up again, seemingly more agitated than the first time if that was possible. “Shepard is gone, and he sure as hell isn't going to be here in Urzik. And It's not a suicide mission. The CIA hired your team to do a job, not back out when things get real. Your opinion on how the government deals with involvement concerning foreign enemy affairs has no merit, Captain. If it were up to me, your team wouldn't even be here, but Kate Laswell keeps you on a tight leash doesn't she?”

You heard a loud bang, akin to a hard fist being slammed onto flat wood. “Watch your mouth. You and your muppets can both go crawl back under the CIA’s boot. As for Laswell, you know just as well as I do she would be more than happy to bring you and rouge commander Shepard's previous associations to the attention of your government.”

There was silence for a beat. Suddenly you could feel your heart beating, pounding in your chest. Your fingers felt numb, and even time seemed to slow. You could say with 100% certainty that you were not supposed to be listening, you weren't even sure if you wanted to keep listening. You heard footsteps coming from the inside, in your peripheral vision, you caught the slight rustle of the tent door. Without thought you jumped out of sight, pressing yourself to the side of the tent just as a man stormed out.

You watched the back of his head as he muttered something, you held your breath. After a good minute, you exhaled, silently creeping out from where you stood. Something in you was telling you to leave, to pretend you had never heard what you did. But there was a magnetic pull that drew you back into Price.

Carefully, you peeked your head through the tent door. A few feet away was Price, his back was turned with his hand over his face, the other on his hip. Before you could speak he turned around to see you, his eyes growing twice the size. Time seemed to freeze for a second time, you watched his eyes go from surprise to anger, and then to exhaustion. By the look on your face, he most likely already knew what you were hiding.

“How much did you hear?” He sighed, rubbing his hand over his cheek.

You walked into the tent, standing awkwardly in front of the door. “Just the last part.” You confessed, swallowing what little bravery you had left.

Price didn't respond, his hand moving over his eyes to rub and smooth over his temples. His cheeks pulled in as he bit the inside of his mouth. “Right… well, I'm sorry you had to hear that.” He breathed, his voice more weary. A stark contrast to the raw anger you heard from him a few moments prior.

You shook your head, “Don't be sorry. At first, I was mad at you and Laswell for going through with this. But… I guess after that, I know you didn't want to either.” You tried your best to form a semblance of hope, giving him a drained smile. “Like you said, this mission is fucking suicide. But if anyone can lead the team and somehow come out alive, it's you.”

There was a flash of something in Price’s eyes, it was the same thing that you saw back on your walk with him months prior. You glanced down at his hands, watching the way they flexed. Like he was aching to hold, to touch something. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, “I’m sorry.” He breathed, “-I’m sorry that I'm putting you and the guys in this situation.”

Price’s hand came back up, dragging it across the side of his face. His eyes shut tight, eyebrows knit together. “It's just…the longer I stay here, doing this, the more it's clear to me none of it was for a greater good. And I don't want that for you.” He sighed, “-I…I want you to know there is a way out [Name]. You don't have to continue to do this.”

This made you draw back, Price had never sounded like this before. He sounded like he was already admitting defeat, and like he was giving you a chance to escape what you chose to do. Your eyebrows furrowed, marching straight up to him with your lips twisted in a frown. You reached up to pull his hand away from his face, your other hand reaching up to cup his cheek with your hand. Your palm pressed against his jaw, feeling the rough bristle of his beard under the pads of your fingers. Forcing him to look at you.

“Don’t do that.” You said sternly, making his eyes snap back. Looking at you with a mixture of surprise and confusion. “-Don’t act like everything is already set in stone, we don't know what's going to happen. It could go bad but it could also be fine. And you're also acting like I didn't choose to be here, I'm willing to do this job Price. Just because I don't like what shady shit someone is doing behind the scenes doesn't mean I'm going to back out.”

Price stared at you, and you stared back. Willing him to understand that you had hope for him, you had hope for the team. Maybe it was stupid to try and be strong, but if you didn't try, you'd be giving up too.

You couldn't leave, not now. Not when you had a reason to stay. As much as you hated the idea of someone sending you into a death trap, the only thing you hated even more would be leaving Price to go into said death trap. You couldn't pry yourself away from him even if you tried. Your hand squeezed his, I love you, the gesture said.

Price squeezed your hand back, “[Name], I-” I love you, his eyes said. You shook your head, staring back at him with the same intensity.

“I know.” You breathed back. You couldn't stand it, you wanted to hear the words from his mouth. You wanted it with everything in you, but this was probably the worst time you could think of to confess. So, you settled for a mutual understanding. A silent promise, that when you came back maybe things could be different.

There was another beat before he leaned in, and like an idiot, you let it happen. Your hand tightened slightly against his cheek, eyes fluttering shut as he kissed you. His lips were warm, and you sighed into his mouth as you got a taste of him. His mouth that tasted like smoke and whiskey, and you yearned for more. His body was charged with an electricity that sent shivers down your spine. Every brush, touch, and groan had you on edge.

Before you knew it, he was pushing you up against the table that sat in the middle of the room. Your hand slid down from his face to fist into his shirt as you were slowly backed against the wood. You should've pushed him off, it was too risky to be doing this now. It was mid-day for fucks sake, not only that but anyone could walk into the tent.

Yet something about the tension, exposed and raw like an open cable wire, held you back from protesting. Hell, if this was the last time you were going to see him outside of the field, mind as well go out with a bang (literally).

Price must've come to the same conclusion by the way he sat you down on the table, standing in between your parted thighs. His breath was heavy and his lips slick, taking you in with his eyes. “Fuckin’ Christ love, you're a vision. I don't say it enough, but you're gorgeous.” He murmured, breathless.

You felt your cheeks go hot, the warmth seeping up into your ears. Taking compliments was never your strong suit. Price pressed a chaste kiss on your forehead, his hands moving from your waist to the belt and zipper of your pants. His lips brushed against the shell of your ear, “Baby lay back for me.”

Well with that voice, you couldn't bear to not comply. You hesitantly lowered your back onto the flat wood of the table. Propping yourself on your elbows, watching as Price slowly pulled your pants down to reveal your undergarments. His eyes flickered to you then back to your covered pussy, an insatiable hunger in those pools of navy blue. He lowered to his knees, hooking your thighs under his biceps. Price pressed a few soft nips and kisses to the burning skin of your inner thighs, earning a few soft gasps on your part.

Your nails scraped against the wood, biting down on your lip to keep your voice down. With one hand, Price hooked his finger against the fabric of your panties, parting it to the side to show your soaked cunt. A small groan left him at the sight of you, he glanced back at you. “You’re gonna be quiet now right?”

Without a thought behind it, you nodded. Desperate to have his mouth on you, he leaned in, flattening his tongue to lick a long stripe up your folds. Your head fell back, eyes fluttering for a moment. When he started to swirl his tongue over your clit, you almost broke. “Price-” You gasped out, your voice a whisper.

He hummed against your cunt, suctioning his mouth against your clit. “No Price here, we’re far past that love. Use my name baby, use my name and I'll listen.” He murmured, the vibrations of his voice making your mind dizzy. One of your hands threaded into his short hair, guiding his face against your pussy.

“Fuck- John, feels good. Feels so good.” You whispered, your voice almost a mewl. His dull nails dug into the meat of your thigh, groaning softly as he lapped at your weeping cunt. Your eyes squeezed shut, all of your concentration honing in on trying not to moan out loud.

His tongue switched between fast flicks of your clit and drawn-out open-mouthed kisses to your mound. When you got more desperate you guided him to where you wanted, and John was happy to oblige.

Your back was now flat on the table, thighs locked around Price’s head like a boa constrictor. Your voice was now silent moans and labored breaths, and with every passing moment, it was harder to stay quiet. Your nails tugged at his hair, gripping onto him like a lifeline. John suddenly pushed his tongue into your hole without warning, pushing the tip of the muscle in and out with vigor. You nearly screamed, slapping a hand over your mouth to bite on your knuckle.

Price was devouring you like a man starving.

Your back arched off the wood of the table, methodically moving your hips in tandem with his tongues movements. The slurry of noises coming from John’s mouth and your cunt was obscene. Wet smacks of his lips mixed with small groans and deep gasps.

It felt like you were floating, your senses muddied beneath the feeling of his mouth. Your body was burning, a coil in your stomach just begging to snap. You bucked your hips into his face, begging him to quell the fires raging in your body. Price seemed to catch on, he held one of your thighs tight while the other slid between your legs. His mouth hovering over your pussy, he slipped a digit into your aching cunt.

You silently cried out, your core tightly gripping his finger as he curled it inside you. Then, he slowly worked in a second, mimicking the ‘come here’ motion with his fingers buried deep in your pussy. “Atta’ girl, little longer for me.” John breathed against you, his breath fanning against your cunt.

Suddenly he was on you again, swirling his tongue over your swollen bud while curling his digits in you. You could have died happy then and there, everything felt so good you couldn't think. Your nails dug into the table, marking it with long stripes.

Between his fingers and his tongue, you were a goner. Your vision went white, trying your hardest not to scream out to the heavens. “John- shit I can’t I'm gonna cum.” You whined through heavy pants, tears pooling in the corner of your iris from the stimulation.

“Come on then, cum for me. Let go love, cum on my mouth.” He murmured against your sopping pussy, flicking his tongue over your clit and speeding the movement of his fingers.

That was all it took before you came, hard. Your back arched and your head fell back, biting down on your hand so hard that it hurt. Your thighs shook as the wave of your orgasm crashed over you, white-hot and mind-blowing. And John fucked you through it, never letting up on his page until you fell limp like a bag of flour. After those precious few moments, he gently slid his fingers from your cunt. Pressing a soft kiss to your thigh before setting it down slowly.

You were gone. Your brain turned to mush, a daze of post-orgasm exhaustion and giddiness. Slowly you blinked your eyes back open, letting John slowly guide you back to a sitting position. He held the small of your back while his other hand held your face.

“You alright?” John murmured, his mouth shiny with your slick. You couldn't help but laugh, your forehead hitting his lightly.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm alright.” You breathed. The after-glow hit you hard, but there was still the looming anxiety of the mission. You knew the moment wouldn't last forever, you just hoped you could bask in it a little longer.

John sensed the shift, knowing it was his turn to be brave, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. His eyes soft, “Hey, like you said, we’re gonna be okay. Nothing is set in stone yet.” He whispered, making you nod.

“Right. We’re going to come out of this.” You said, more for yourself. He nodded, the both of you knew deep down it was wishful thinking. But maybe having something to hope for, something to come back to, would push you to fight even harder to keep it.

And in the end, you were willing to do anything to keep this.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Everything around you was dark, with an air pungent with dust and grime. The walls only grew bigger and shadowed as you passed, ducking behind doors and boxes to remain out of sight. Just like last time everyone was paired in either a group of two or three, you were with Ghost. You had to give him credit where credit was due, as large and burly as he was, he was silent as he moved.

The bazaar was large, with huge openings in the ceilings covered by hanging fabric. Open doors that connected rooms and massive lamps draped from the walls. It might've even been nice had it not been for its years of inactivity, and under the cover of night, it was simply eerie. Wires covered the walls and ceiling, some even hanging down low enough to snag someone if you weren't careful.

You weren't quite sure what exactly you were looking for, after all, you didn't know what this aforementioned ‘bio-chemical lab’ looked like. And if it was easily portable, it wouldn't exactly look like your standard chemistry lab.

“[Name].”

Ghost spoke into your headpiece, standing several feet away. You snapped out of your train of thought, looking back at him.

“Let’s get a move on, the others are on the top floor. I'm guessing it’s near the bottom, or even underground, be on high alert. There's bound to be people this time around.” He said, earning a nod from your end.

With that, you made your way further into the bazaar. Gun at the ready, you weaved through rooms and piles of storage and other junk. When you got to a large room on the north side of the building, tucked away between rubble and containers your body tensed. There wasn't anything unordinary about it, it looked exactly like every other room, but something felt off. A few steps into the space and you had your explanation for the uneasiness you felt.

With an odd thunk’ of your boot on the ground, you looked back at Ghost. He looked back at you, the same expression on his face, it was hollow.

You came off it, brushing your foot over the area again to remove the grime and dust. It was a different color and texture than the ground. “Well I’ll be damned, you were right.” You breathed, “-Think this opens up from the outside?” Ghost kneeled on the ground next to whatever you found. Pushing his hand over it and sending small clouds of dust into the air.

“Doesn't matter if it does.” He said, fishing out a knife from his bullet vest. Finding a dibet with his finger in the ground he wedged the blade in between the surface, pulling up until the ground lifted.

With a grunt, he wrapped his fingers around the edge of the trap door. Pulling until the structure revealed a human-sized rectangular hole in the ground. A latter peeking out from inside the ground pressed into the side of the dirt. You stared down at it, knowing this was it. Clicking your headpiece, you spoke, “Cap, we got something. Northside, ground floor, it’s a trap door in the last room.”

After a moment you got a response, “Copy. See what you can find, we’re coming. If you see anything don't think, just shoot. I want you and Ghost alive.” Price’s voice rang loud and clear in your ear.

With a nod, you looked back down at the hole, even with night vision, it was hard to make out the bottom. Ghost was the first to go down, with you following suit the minute he gave the all-clear to come down. Inside was dark and smelled like mildew, a tunnel leading further into the unknown. The same wires that hung down from up on the surface were strung about the dirt walls. It wasn't spacious in the tunnel, but it didn't make you feel claustrophobic.

Ghost raised his gun, nodding to you to follow as you made your way deeper. It wasn't long until you reached a door, it wasn't impenetrable by any means, but it was going to be a pain to get through. But the thing that caught your attention most was the faint light that peeked from the cracks of the hinges. Ghost looked at you, “Get back, and I’ll break the door, you follow in straight after and shoot at anything you see.”

As said, with a firm kick, Ghost kicked the door down. The metal swung open with a crackle, and with your gun at the ready, you quickly followed him inside. The first thing you heard was voices, panicked and deep. Your eyes met a man in the corner of the room, quickly scrambling up to his feet and reaching the rifle that lay in front of him. Just like you were told, you didn't think, you acted on instinct.

Your gun went off, and his body was forced back by the blow. Blood spattered the wall behind him, his head rolling limp on his shoulders. You heard another shot fired, looking over to Ghost who was in firing position, and then to the direction of his rifle. Another body, this one standing, keeled over onto the floor, pooling red onto the ground. A deafening silence followed after, you waited for more voices but they never came.

“Just two?” You said, looking between the two. “-and they don't look local.” You muttered, focusing on the pale skin and European features. You looked back to Ghost who was standing a few feet away. “-Think they might be Russian like Soap said?”

Ghost shrugged, “It's possible.” He gruffed, looking around the room. It was emptier than you expected, with a table, lamps, flasks, and a few weapons. Another voice rang out from somewhere in the cavern before you could look any further. Coming from another hallway that you had missed when you first saw the room.

You quickly ran against the wall near the hallway entrance, pressing yourself into the hard surface so you wouldn't be seen. Ghost followed suit, and not a second later another man ran out, rifle in hand. And just like before you fired, watching the body hit the ground like a sac of potatoes.

This one looked like he could be from Urzik. You looked back at Ghost, who pushed off the wall, ducking into the hallway. It wasn't long before you entered a much bigger cavern, full of boxes and equipment. Open containers of guns with ammunition, tables covered with cylinder-shaped lab equipment. You could hardly classify this as a lab, more like a glorified basement with makeshift tools. Large computers also lined what little space they could occupy. Florescent overhead lights cast the room in a putrid dimish glow.

Before you had time to react a bullet brushed past your arm. Sending a burning shock through your system. You ducked, trying to avoid what you couldn't see.

“They're shooting!” You yelled out to Ghost, finding refuge in a large container that you hid behind.

You looked around, desperate to see where the firing was coming from. Your eyes caught three at first glance, one person across the room, hiding behind another container. Another fired from a doorway, and the last one hid behind a table. All three aiming for either your box of Ghost. Your hands held your gun with an iron grip, turning your knuckles white.

You peeked out from behind the container, aiming for the second guy in the doorway. Your first shot missed, but your second shot straight through his forehead. Ghost, from wherever he was, took out the third guy from behind the table. Leaving the one behind the other container, peaking back out you felt another bullet fly past you. You scrambled back, your heartbeat hammering in your chest.

You called out to Ghost, “I can't get him! You're gonna have to take the last one!” After another shot to your hiding place, chipping the wood of the contained, Ghost called back.

“Copy! I've got him!” He yelled, a final shot echoing through the cavern before everything fell into an eerie silence. You tentatively rounded the corner of the container, looking back at the first guy's hiding spot. When all you saw was his body flat on the ground, you breathed a sigh of relief.

You heard Ghost call to you again, “[Name], you hurt?” You stood up, looking over in the direction of his voice. He was behind one of the walls of the hallway, pressed against the dirt wall.

“No, I'm all good. You?” You said back, scanning him for any sign of injury. He shook his head, letting his gun fall to his side.

“I'm clear.” He said, walking out from the hallway. You looked back at the three bodies adorning the floor, which made six in total so far. These three also looked like they were locals, you walked over to one. Moving your foot to hover over their hand, you kicked the gun away, staring at the blackened tattoo on his palm. Before, Soap had mentioned that rebel groups in Urzik shared a tattoo on their palms. Much like a gang tattoo, it united them under a common collective.

You looked back at Ghost, “What do Urzik terrorists have to do with us? If this really is a problem with uprisings against their government, why would the SAS and the CIA get involved?”

Your mind flashed to the conversation between Price and the commander back at the checkpoint base. He had said that if it had been up to him, 141 would never have been involved. Laswell had been the one to push for the team's involvement, even with its potholes. Then came Shepard, whose disappearance had led to your involvement with the team in the beginning. The only link to this you had to Shepard was his name being mentioned back at base.

Jesus, your head hurt just trying to think about it.

Ghost walked over to you, “My advice wouldn't be to think too hard about it [Name]. We’re doing a job, thinking about shite like this leads into a bigger rabbit hole than you think.”

You nodded, a frown settling onto your lips. Nothing about this sat right with you, but that was the cost you paid for being here in the first place.

“The important thing is, we located the lab. Now we just make sure there's nobody else so someone else can pick up the mess over here.” He said, making you nod along with him. Price and the other guys would probably be down any minute, that would make clearing everything out a hell of a lot easier.

You looked back at the man on the ground, staring into the fleshy eyes that held no light. You were reminded of the compound, staring into the eyes of the man who had shot Price’s foot. You didn't feel sorry, more hollow.

Ghost turned his back, looking over to the entranceway hall. And the split second for him to turn around was all it took for something to go wrong all over again. With no warning, you felt something burn your side, sharp and hot like lava. A hand yanked you back, snaked around your neck, and held you back to something firm. You could barely choke out a gasp, the thorn in your side sending shocks of pain through your body you didn't even know was possible.

Something cold pressed against your temple, you could barely process what was happening before you heard a click. Ghost whipped around at the noise, immediately holding up his rifle to whatever was behind you.

For a brief moment, time stopped. You were all too familiar with what was happening, you were being held at gunpoint. Nobody moved, Ghost's voice suddenly echoing through the silent room. “Shepard. Let her go.” He said.

You blinked, Shepard? Fuck, you didn't see that coming. You thought maybe he had a small part in the involvement, but you didn't expect him to actually be here. You tried to look at him, but his arm around your throat only tightened, making you squirm. The thing in your side, most likely a knife, only seemed to hurt more the longer it was left sticking out of you.

“Drop your gun, and I will.” His voice was cold, it sounded like sandpaper. His breath made your nostrils recoil in disgust.

Ghost shook his head, his eyes darting between yours and the man holding you. “You and I both know that's not happening.” The barrel of the gun pressed into your skin harder, making you wince. Your hands clawing at his arm to pry him off your neck.

“If you don't drop that gun, I will kill this one. And that's a promise.” He said, your body felt numb, and the lack of oxygen only seemed to make you all the weaker. You heard voices from beyond the hallway, your mind screaming for John. You needed him, you needed him to come and fix the mess you had gotten yourself into. Being a hostage was by far your least favorite activity.

Ghost swallowed, still pointing his gun at Shepard. “Shepherd, it's in your best interest that you let her go. You're not getting out of this, you know that. You shoot her and it’s just another kill added to your list of crimes, let’s not lengthen that sentence.”

Shepard snarled, “I'll be damned if I'm sent to prison, we can do this all-day lieutenant. You pull that trigger, and I fire. If you put the gun down, maybe we can negotiate something.”

You tried gasping for air, your airways closing up. Nails clawing at his shirt, like a caged animal trying to get out of its enclosure. From your squinted eyes you could make out the form of Price, Gaz, and Soap entering the room, guns at the ready. The pain in your side fired back up again as the blade twisted, making you yelp.

“Shepherd put the fucking gun down!” You absentmindedly recognized John's voice, your vision growing fuzzier by the second.

You tried your best to fight, thinking of anything you could to stay conscious. You thought of your friends, family, and John. Between the knife in your side, the gun against your head, and his arms around your throat it was a miracle you could even think. You blinked again, gasping for more air. You saw Ghost and Price, Soap a few feet away, Gaz must've been somewhere in the room as well.

“Get back or she's dead!” Shepard barked, his voice ringing in your ear. You saw blotches of black in your vision, your body slowly losing its feeling.

As you blacked out, you heard a gunshot fire.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

A white light flooded your vision, making your face scrunch up in discomfort. It was harsh and almost painful, you tried shutting your eyes as tight as they could go, but it was burned into your retinas.

Your limbs felt sluggish, you couldn't lift your arms. It seemed like you could only move your face, after another minute of trying to shut out the light, you gave up. Blinking your eyes open, you saw said white light hanging down from an even whiter ceiling.

“Holy shit, you're awake.” A female voice said, making you halt. You knew that voice, your eyes darted to the sound. Turing your head from its apparent, laying position to follow your gaze. Your eyes met an older woman, she had bangs and blondish hair.

“Laswell?” You croaked, your voice was shot. It sounded like a frog, making you internally cringe.

Kate Laswell stood at the foot of your bed, her hands grabbed at your arm. “Don’t talk [Name], the nurse said you shouldn't be using your voice for the next couple of days.” She scolded. You grunted, your throat felt as dry as the Sahara.

The pain slowly started to come back, a deep-seated ache that made you wince. “What happened?” You breathed. Your mind was fuzzy, the last thing you remembered was being in the bazaar and being held at gunpoint by Shepherd.

Laswell pursed her lips in a line, obviously not too thrilled about the events that transpired. “Well, John told me after you passed out they managed to disarm Shepard. But by that point, you were already gone, so they got you out. After that, you were transported to the checkpoint base and now you're in the hospital.”

You were following up until the hospital part, last time you checked, the checkpoint base didn't have a full-fledged hospital. “Hospital where?” You croaked, looking at Laswell for an answer.

“D.C,” She said plainly, almost like it was obvious. “It was the easiest place I would be able to keep an eye on you until you woke up.”

You barely had the energy to be surprised, “Oh.” Was what you settled on. “Where is the rest of the team?” You asked.

She sighed, “John is here. Garrick and Ghost are still in Urzik for another day, they have other matters they need to sort out first. Soap also came here with you, though he's not in the hospital.”

You nodded along, a small part of you relaxed when you heard John's name. He was here, which meant he was most likely safe. Your eyes closed, “oh, good then.” You sighed, your voice a whisper. Any louder and it would sound like your vocal cords were being torn to ribbons.

Laswell looked down at you, a sadness in her eyes. Almost guilt, “[Name].” She said, grabbing your attention again, “-I’m pulling you off the team early.”

You froze, your eyes doubling in size. Maybe you misheard her, 141 was your family, she couldn't just pull you off. You still had a few more months with them! “What? Why?” You asked throatily.

She looked at you incredulously, “Because you almost died. Honestly, it was my fault in the beginning, I shouldn't have put you in the situation.” Your eyes narrowed, you tried to sit up but she placed a firm hand on your chest to keep you from doing so.

“Laswell, I’m fine. I don't need to be taken off 141, everyone in the world has probably had a near-death experience.” You protested, “-I want to keep being on the team, I know at first I was only doing this as a favor but I'm not anymore.”

Laswell looked at you, a bit stunned. Her eyes stared into yours, deciphering if you were really telling the truth. “Are you sure? I was only going to do it because I believed that is what’s in your best interest. But are you positive this is what you want? Even after what happened?”

You stared back at her, determined as ever. “I'm positive.”

There was a beat of silence before Laswell sighed, rubbing her face. “Okay,” she breathed. “But you're still not allowed to participate in anything until you're fully healed.” Your demeanor relaxed again, almost sinking into the mattress. It was a win, a small one, but a win nonetheless.

You looked back at her, “You said Price was here right?” You asked, trying your best to hide the eagerness in your tone.

She nodded, “Yes, he's outside. He's been coming with me to check on you.”

You could've run out of bed at that exact moment, from the first minute you'd woken up he was occupying half of your thoughts. “Could I talk to him…?” You asked, trying to disguise your desperation.

Laswell gave you a pointed look, obviously, she knew more than what she was letting on. “You have ten minutes, then I'm pulling him out so you can get more rest.”

You thanked her profusely, waiting in anticipation for John to walk through the door. You shimmied up into a sitting position, trying not to irritate the stitches in your side. After a minute, your captain walked through the door. His hair was a bit tousled, and his beard had been trimmed, but there were large bags under his blue eyes. Clad in an army-green cotton shirt with jeans. He was a sight for sore eyes that was for sure.

After a minute of staring he bolted across the room, enveloping you in a tight embrace. His hand holding the back of your head to his chest and his other arm wrapped around your back. You weakly tried to hug him back, inhaling his scent.

“You have no idea how worried I was.” He breathed, pulling away to get a good look at your face. His hands cupped your jaw like a precious jewel. You smiled, laughing to the best of your ability.

“Well, I'm alive. That's saying something.” You breathed, taking him in. You’d barely spent any time away from him, yet you missed him, you needed his presence like you needed air. “Nobody can kill me that easy, not even Shepard.”

He looked at you, unimpressed by your attitude, “I wouldn't boast your level of confidence for someone in a hospital bed.” He deadpanned. You simply waved him off, but a question popped into your mind before you could say anything.

“Hey, what was Shepherd doing there anyway? I know you mentioned him earlier but I still don't understand why he was involved.” You asked, making him sigh.

John rubbed his neck, leaning back a little from his position. “If I'm being honest? I don't know either, I had a feeling he would be there but I wasn't positive. My best guess would be that he probably got involved with Markov's goons after he went rogue. After they must've teamed with underground gangs to keep tabs on what the CIA was up to.” He looked back at you, “A few people from the inside still had communication with him, that was most likely how we got the tip-off that he was in Urzik.”

You hummed, mostly glad you could put Urzik behind you. It was over and that was all that mattered, “So what happens now?” You asked.

Price raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“What happens now that you caught him?” You clarified. Staring at him curious.

John shrugged, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Well Shepherd is dead, he died during the altercation back in Riyzabbi. As for the team, we go back to normal. A few people who had relations with Shepherd are being tried in international court for unauthorized communication with enemies. But that's it, as far as I know.”

You hummed, letting your eyes flutter shut. Basking in the feel of his thumb against your skin, “Mm, and us…?” You asked, feeling a bit brave.

You felt him halt, “Well, you obviously know we can't exactly be public about this.” You opened your eyes back up to him, “-But, I don't think I can really deny what I feel for you.”

Your lips curled into a warm smile, one that seemed to say ‘I love you.’ John traced the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip, ‘I love you’ the gesture said.

“I love you.” You said, unable to hold yourself back from uttering the words any longer.

John smiled, “I love you too.”

Pulling you in for a chaste kiss, you smiled against his lips. Your nose brushed his, his eyelashes tickling your skin.

You were going to be just fine.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Hey, don't go!

Okay first things first, I want to say a HUGE thank you to everyone who liked, commented, reposted, or send me kind messages on my last post. I never thought I would reach 1,000 likes but you guys work miracles! It literally means the world to me.

Second, so sorry for the long wait. I know it was awhile but I’m balancing my classes, social life, and my writing so it gets hectic sometimes. But I appreciate you for having patience in me, I want to ask if you would be so kind as to like, repost, or leave a comment! It really helps, more than you know.

Lastly, you definitely haven’t seen the last of me yet. There is more content coming! It might take a bit but I am working hard to please you ;) and with that I hope you enjoyed Captains Girl Part II, I love you all! Toodles ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ̀ˋ 💕

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Taglist

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.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Part I of… Captains Girl: ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Thank you

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

[ye4gerism]

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐊, 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍!- 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

word count 4.8k

content warning a little bit of spiciness, false positive pregnancy mention, black reader friendly

author’s note hi. i suffered through writer’s block these past three months but BOOM mouthwashing and fanart of this fine ass man popped up on my fyp. i’ve watched two playthroughs of this game, so i hope i captured the right image of curly. oh and he’s australian here. and my requests are open!

synopsis on a study abroad trip, you meet another (handsome) study abroad student who talks his way into your heart and ends up being a key part of your life

Winter in London was not up to your standards.

You were here on a study abroad trip for your master's program. You did the whole overseas thing during one quarter during your time as an undergrad - it was a little visit to South Africa which you thoroughly enjoyed. But “travel some more,” everyone said.

After a lot of thinking, you gave in and decided to travel to the U.K. as you wanted something that felt familiar. You were wrong in so many ways - the roads followed unnecessary loops, plugs were shaped unusually, and...oh, every drink there was some sort of 'diet' or 'zero sugar' crap.

But over time, this place began to feel like a routine. It wasn't home but you were okay. You liked the opportunity to grow in your program and you liked your classmates. Everything was balanced - school, eat, chat, sleep.

Except for one particular day after your classes, a few of your classmates insisted you go to a pub with them. Something about 'getting you more exposed to the London culture'. After much pestering, you indulged.

So you found yourself at this pub but not as excited as the people who invited you. Over time, they were engulfed in their own conversations and inside jokes and you were off to the side, whiskey in front of you, own your own. It's weird to drink when the people who are supposed to have your back don't.

"Enjoying yourself?"

Oh boy, were you about to have your first unwanted encounter in London?

You look over your shoulder and see this strikingly tall man, his head full of bright hair. His shy smile

is highlighted by his stubble. Your eyes soften for a moment and the tension in your shoulders fades.

But then it returns. "I'm enjoying myself. Thank you. I'm with my...my classmates." Your tone is sharp. You gesture to your classmates, who are still in their own world.

"You're American? Are you sure these people know you?" He asks. You pause, trying to find a witty answer of your own. Part of you wanted to point out his thick accent as it wasn't as posh as the Londoners. Maybe Australian. You think for a while but you're still stuck.

"Curly." He extends his hand to you. You shake it.

"Your name is Curly?" you ask curtly. "And I'm supposed to feel bad about my situation?"

He chuckles at your response, his face settling into a smirk. "My name is Grant. Everyone just calls me Curly."  He swirls his glass, eyeing the empty barstool next to you. "Do you mind if I sit with you?"

You look him over noticing his muscular build once more. "I don't mind." He swings his leg over the seat and rests his forearms on the counter. Curly takes you in for a moment. You take this time to take note of his eyes - a shade of deep blue. He's sort of cute, you think.

"So, why exactly is an American girl like you here in London?" And it all goes away. You find yourself a little annoyed with his question as it's yet another variation of the same question you've heard since you arrived here.

"You ask that like I'm not supposed to be here. It's not like the United Kingdom is some sort of war zone," you respond. He raises his right hand in defense. "I'm studying abroad for a quarter. I'm a grad student," you finally answer. "You don't sound like you're from here either. What's your deal?"

"Well, I'm here for school too." He downs the rest of his drink. "Masters too actually. I'm trying to go to space."

"Still doesn't explain the accent," you cut in.

"Well, my father's Aussie and my mother's from here. They separated years ago and I spent most of my life in Australia with my Pa and spent time with my mother when I wasn't in school. She moved to the States after the divorce. I decided I'd pursue my college education in America and have been there since."

"So you're here studying abroad as well," you state. He nods and then gestures to someone behind him. "That's Jimmy. I like to think we've been attached to the hip for the longest time."

This Jimmy he speaks of is on the opposite side of the bar, socializing. "I'm really happy we got to take this trip together. He made my breaks great. I was really bummed that the person I considered my best friend lived on the other side of the world but the great thing about adulthood is the lack of limitation."

You laugh at his comment and he gives you a confused look. "As an adult, I feel that there are so many limitations. Especially as we get older."

"Well, it's up to you if you let those limitations run your life. You have free will, you know, and...and you typically only live once." He places a hand on your arm and it slowly runs down to your elbow. Your eyes are locked now.

"My name is Y/N."

"I like that."

You like the weight of his hand and you like his eyes and you like his hair. He seems like a cute guy and he has such a cute name - Grant Curly. What a cute face.

"Hey Curly." The moment is broken by an unfamiliar voice but a familiar face. The Jimmy guy. "It's getting late and we have shit to do. You think you can stop flirting and leave now." He pauses and looks at you. "No offense."

You're taken aback and not sure of what to say but you respect him for keeping his friend in check...but maybe not with that tone. You look behind you and see that your classmates have left you. So much for adults.

"You're right. I lost track of time," Curly admits sheepishly. He looks at you first, then at Jimmy. "This is Y/N."

"Great. Nice to meet you, Y/N." You wait for a handshake or something. "Let's go now." Jimmy starts to walk away from where you're both sitting.

"Sorry about him. He's nice! I promise!" Curly rubs his neck nervously. "How are you getting home? Going back with your friends?"

"They left. I'll have to call a cab or something," you say. He looks over at Jimmy, who's exiting the pub, and then back at you. "I'll take you back home. What's your address?"

"It's okay. Your friend...he doesn't seem receptive. And besides, I can take care of myself," You answer. You start to rummage through your purse and pull out your wallet to pay for your drink. Curly gently holds your wrist. Your breath hitches at the electrifying feeling. "Let me pay for your drink and take you home," he starts, "I know you're definitely capable of taking care of yourself but it'd kill me if I left you alone."

You look away from him for a moment and think. This was your opportunity to get his number. "Okay...I'll pay for the drink and you can take me home," you offer. He shakes his head and gestures to the bartender. "Please put this lady's drink on my tab," he says. Curly pulls out his wallet, then his card, and slides it over to the bartender. You lightly slap his arm in protest. "Why would you do that?"

He just smirks at you before taking back his card and receipt. "Let's go." He offers his hand to you to help you off the barstool but you playfully swat it away before plopping off.

Curly leads you outside to the parking lot and clicks the unlock button on his keys. His friend is leaning against the car and you take note of the fact that he was rushing Curly when he didn't even own a car himself.

"What is she doing here?" He asks. "Jimmy, we're dropping her off. You think you could move to the back so the pretty lady can sit up front?" His friend asks.

Jimmy gets off of the car and mumbles something illegible under his breath. You feel bad so you say something, “He can sit-"

Curly cuts you off, "No, no, you sit down." He opens the passenger seat for you and you slide inside.

Something you noticed about the two friends was how opposite they were; Jimmy was clearly someone who didn't like too much change and you assumed that Curly lacked any anxiety. They seem to balance each other out...maybe?

As you conversed with Curly about your respective lives, you couldn't help but notice Jimmy's eyes piercing your image through the rear view mirror.

“Hi love." You feel so much relief when Curly's lips meet yours. You can't help but melt against him. It felt so good to have him in your home.

The two of you had decided to go long-distance months after you met in London. Curly was based in Colorado; his mother lived there, it was where he attended school and he loved it so much because of the snow. It seemed like whenever you called, he was on some sort of mountain or on his way there. While you were living in California, where there wasn't much of that, Curly claimed it reminded him so much of home - so he didn’t mind you living there.

After your first meeting, you regularly hung out and spoke over the phone. Sometimes you both were lucky to be alone; he'd take you out to lunch or take you to tourist sights in London. Sometimes you'd spend time in his flat and Jimmy would be there. The latter wouldn't say much but you always felt like he never really wanted you around. When he did speak to you, your conversations would start somewhat simple and then he'd say something to kill the mood.

One night as your school's study abroad program came to an end, Curly showed up at your flat without any notice. The Curly you saw that night wasn't the one you were getting to know all this time - he was much more bashful than ever. Not the type of bashful when Jimmy tries to embarrass him but bashful in the sense that he was well into his twenties, almost 30, and was struggling to find the words to confess to you. Luckily for him, he didn't need to completely contextualize as you felt the same way.

"How is work, baby?" You ask him. He came to California as it was his turn to take the flight to see you.

"Same old, same old." He started working for some space freighter company months before he met you; you only heard about it once you got back to the States. You weren't too sure about the whole thing but he was making money and getting practice for the career he really wanted.

You pull away from his chest and take his image in. "I missed you so so much." Curly pulls you closer to him so that he can kiss you again. This time it's a bit longer. He pulls away looks behind himself to find your couch and leads you to it without bumping into anything.

He sits first and invites you to crawl onto his lap. Once you're settled, he grabs your thighs and you take hold of his shoulders, kissing him again. His hands roam from your thighs to your back before finding themselves under your shirt. At the feel of your bra, he asks, "Oh, what's this?"

You feel your cheeks heating up at his playfulness. "Why don't you take my shirt off and find out?"

Taking this as permission, Curly unclasps your bra and moves his hands to your shirt; you raise your arm as he pulls the bottom of your shirt off. Once it's been discarded, your bra slightly falls off your chest and Curly does you the honor of taking it off of you.

He lets the back of his hand run lightly against your nipple and you can't help but mewl a bit. "Missed me?" He asks. You nod. "Every single day."

"I think about you a lot. At work, at home, when I'm outside. It's hard knowing that I have such a pretty darling on the other side of the country." He brings one of your breasts to his lips and wraps his lips around your nipple, where his tongue dances around. He pulls his lips away with a 'pop'. "Grant," you let out breathlessly.

"I think about doing you at my desk, on my bed, everywhere." He lowers you down on the couch and adjusts himself so that he's on top of your lower half. "I think I'll take you on this couch and maybe if you're up to it, on your island counter next, and then after-"

He's cut off by a vibration in his pocket. "Just a moment, it's probably work," he says, pulling out his phone. You notice a slight annoyance on his face when he reads the Caller ID.

"Jimmy, hi." Speak of the devil. At the sound of his name, you shuffle to sit up on the couch. Curly puts a hand out to stop you but you swat it away.

"No, Jimmy, I didn't eat your pickles. Have you tried looking around the fridge?"

You reach next to him to pull your shirt and bra out of the crevice of the couch.

"You found them- no, I landed here hours ago."

You clasp your bra and put your shirt back on.

"I'm sorry that - Jimmy!" You jump at the volume of Curly's voice. He sees this, places a hand on your knee and mouths an apology. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't call you. I just got here. I'm with my girlfriend- huh? Ok. I'll talk to you later. Bye Jimbo." He then hangs up. Curly sits back on his knees. He brushes his hair back with his hand and releases a sigh before placing both hands on his knees and looking at you. "Sorry. Just Jimmy."

"I don't like him." You give him a pointed look. You cross your arms, obviously disappointed that his idiot friend ruined your time with your man. You're aching for him but at the same time, you don't even want to fuck Curly anymore.

"I think he's a nice bloke," Curly says under his breath. You raise your eyebrows, practically asking him to speak up. "It's like you guys are the brother and sister that hate each other for fun. You'll both come around eventually."

Your face twists in disgust and you fake gag, which makes Curly laugh. "What brother is deeply in love with their sibling, you in this case?" you question, "He clearly wants me out of the way."

"No, he doesn't. He loves you!" You can see Curly's face melt into confusion. "Maybe not love you...but he likes you around?"

You scoff. "See, you don't even know yourself." You wiggle your legs from under Curly and get up off the couch. He reaches for your hand. "You don't know want to...?" He cocks his head toward the couch.

You purse your lips and shake your head no.

"So gorgeous!"

"How many karats?"

"The proposal! What was it like?"

One year and a few months after your meeting, Curly decided to propose. He took you to Australia to meet his paternal side. In truth, you were scared of those big-ass Australian spiders and whatever the hell else happened to live there but your love for Curly was stronger. The night before your flight back home, he planned a candlelight dinner for the both of you in his father's home and proposed to you - your answer obviously being 'yes!'.

Today you were at your wedding shower with all your friends - Jimmy too!

"How do you feel about getting married after just a year of knowing each other? I mean, Grant can't possibly know everything about you in a year!"

Curly's mother was a piece of work. You had met her a handful of times during your trips to Colorado and yet you couldn't seem to just get along. You were polite but she always had something to say. There was some attachment to her son but he was her only one so you let it slide.

"Well...you do know we're getting older. I fell in love with him and have been since I met him. I feel that Curly-"

"Grant. His name is Grant," she interrupts.

You take a deep breath and smile a forced one. "Grant. I feel that he and I can be mature adults and grow and learn about our marriage and what makes it work." Part of you wants to mention why her marriage didn't work out but one of had to be the bigger woman.

Mrs. Former Curly hums trying to find some witty response. "Is the Bride-to-be avoiding me?" You let out a sigh of relief and you never thought you'd do it to this particular voice.

"Jimmy! Nice to see you, hun!" Curly's mom moves past you to hug Jimmy and kiss him on the cheek. For once, Curly's friend looks cleaned up compared to the other times you've seen him.

When Curly's mom pulls away, he looks over at you. "I wanted to pull Y/N aside. Haven't gotten to properly congratulate her on the engagement. I can catch up with you before I head home," Jimmy tells her.

After the engagement, Curly decided to move in with you. It was a decision you were confused by; you were easily willing to pack up your bags and move to Colorado with him. You knew he loved the snow and his mom would probably lose his shit if he was so far but he insisted on moving in with you.

At first, he wouldn't tell you the truth, something about high housing prices and about wanting to explore more. Eventually, he told you he wanted to get away from Jimmy. He opened up to his friend about the idea of getting engaged - showed him the ring and everything. It turned into an argument about you being the right choice and Jimmy low-key insulting you. After he told you the truth, you let Curly move in before the wedding.

Over time, Jimmy apologized to Curly and even extended an apology to you and the two got closer again. Although they weren't best buddies, it didn't sit right with you how quickly Curly took Jimmy back as a friend. Maybe Mrs. Former Curly was on to something.

"How have you been, Jimmy? Has living alone served you well?" You ask. He makes a funny face at you. Were you making a dig at him?

"It's fine. I actually got a new roommate. He's pretty chill. Keeps to himself." Jimmy avoids eye contact for a second. "How's living with Curly? I know he's ecstatic but are you?"

Living with Curly was great, especially when Jimmy was briefly out of your lives; uninterrupted cuddles, uninterrupted dinner, uninterrupted sex. You were living the life!

Instead, you answer, "Living with Curly is great. He's lovely. He's the best roommate and fiancé I could ever ask for."

Jimmy's trying to keep a light demeanor but he truly couldn't. "You know, I hope you're really right about that. Hopefully, he doesn't drop you like a sack of potatoes...although, I hope he does. I really really hope he does. You don't deserve any of this."

Your face drops and for once he's left you silent. Jimmy smirks when he realizes he's really hurt you. "Congratulations again, princess," he says before walking off.

You feel your body buzzing and you just want to cry but everyone - your family, friends, Curly - are all gawking over you and you don't want to set any alarms off. You want to find Curly but you know at the sight of him, you'd burst into tears.

You eventually find the strength to walk out of the party - passing by with polite 'excuse me's and 'just a moment's. You take a moment to feel the breeze. It picks up and your breath struggles but once it slows down, an entire weight is off your shoulders.

You decide to sit in the car. A tired heavy sigh escaped you. You noticed your fiancé left his winter jacket in the car and used it as a blanket.

For a moment, you wanted to cry but you had all this makeup and didn't want others to realize that you were upset. But besides that, you didn’t have the urge. Why couldn’t you cry?

You chalked it up to space. You needed to be away from Curly's petty mom. You needed to be away from Jimmy and his weird attachment to your fiancé. You both needed space for this whole thing to work out.

A shadow hovers over the window and you turn your head to see Curly, who lifts his finger to knock on the window. You open the passenger seat door and before allowing him to speak, you start first.

"Sit."

He doesn't argue and walks around the car to sit in the driver's seat. "Babe, what's going-"

"I can't do this, Grant." You can see his eyes and panicking and his mouth trying to find the right words. He grabs your hands and lets out an incoherent version of "but I love you" and other things you couldn't catch on.

You shush him and it takes him a while to quiet. You place a hand on his cheek. "I don't want to say my vows in front of people who are wishing on our downfall. You know what Jimmy said to me tonight?"

His eyes go from saddened to worry and then a building. "I knew it. I shouldn't have - what did he say to you?!"

You place a finger on his lip, quieting him again. "Grant, baby, please. We'll deal with him later. I want to go to the courthouse and marry you. I want to say the vows I wrote for you there. And then after, I want to eat a burger or something...something greasy and salty as hell, and then after that I..." You move your finger from his lips down to his chest and then even lower.

"You want to...?" He's playing coy.

You move his finger away from his pants and slap his chest, which makes him release an "oof". "I want Jimmy and your mom to suck it and let us have our moment," you say. You watch his face as he starts to think (he has this cute thinking face that you can't help but melt for).

"Ok. Deal." Curly kisses the corner of your lip. "Can you come inside now? Everyone's worried." You kiss his cheek now and chuckle an 'ok'.

Back at the party, everything felt fine. You had your friends and family to cheer you on and your amazing fiancé who loved you more than life. It was toward the end of the night you felt a shift.

You were catching up with another friend when you observed Curly walking Jimmy outside. After a few moments, it was just Curly that returned.

"They want you to do what for how long?"

"It's just a year, baby." He was still with this Pony Express bullshit. "It's nothing we haven't done before. Think of the other times as practice.”

He was doing space deliveries in a span of a few days or even hours to the International Space Station....when he could be working up there.

A part of you felt bad for complaining but the money with good. With your income combined, you were able to buy your first home. You had the most spacious dining room and connected kitchen. It helped with family gatherings, dinners with friends, and hard conversations like these.

"Why can't you get like...I don't know...a real job at like NASA?"

He slams his hand on the table. "It is a real job like NASA!"

You're startled - you can't think of one time he has ever raised his voice at you. Your utensils clutter against the plate and you get up, pushing the chair back with your legs. “Y/N, babe, sorry-” he tries.

You ignore him and leave the dining room, your shared bedroom being your target. Curly’s pleadings and footsteps can be heard behind you.

You reach your bedroom and Curly places a hand on your shoulder. It stops you from walking away from him again. He counters you and now both hands are holding your shoulders. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. I know I never yell at you.” His right hand moves from your shoulder to your cheek. “I’m really really sorry. I shouldn’t have taken my frustrations out on you.”

You blink and your face scrunches up trying to stop yourself from crying, which you fail. Curly brings you in and holds you.

“Grant, I can’t do it. I can’t do a year,” you sob, “And with all the negative tests…I can’t do it. I need you here with me.”

The both of you were trying for a baby but haven’t been lucky. Just a lot of no’s and one false positive - that was the one that hurt the most. The excitement was immediately gone when your doctor told you there wasn’t anything to begin with.

So it was back to Square one and other options.

But this year's mission had thrown a wrench in your plans.

Curly leads you over to the bed and has you sit down. He kneels in front of you and takes your hand. “Listen, it’s some quick cash. A lot of money. When I get back, I’ll quit. I’ll find something else. And we can focus on ourselves and our family. I’ll make it happen. It’s a promise.”

There’s so much hope in his eyes. He sticks out his pinky finger, indicating that he is serious in his own lighthearted way. You hug him instead.

"So who's the lucky girl?"

Curly looks up and sees Swansea, who's pointing at the gold ring on his left hand.

"Oh!" He turns red at the thought of you. "My wife is back home. I didn't realize how hard it would be - being this far from her. We actually dated long distance for the longest time but yet, I can't shake the unusual feeling in me."

“Your wife…” The older man thinks for a moment. “Oh! The one that pulled you to the side to give you an earful!” He lets out this belly laugh and it goes on for quite a long time. Curly takes a deep sigh, letting his shoulders drop. Swansea slaps his left shoulder, perking him up again. “Yeah, I miss that too.”

Curly was about a month into this delivery trip. He stopped counting the days because it made him miss you more. He just wanted to blink and be home so that he could hold you in his arms and apologize a hundred times over.

You both got into an argument when you found out that Jimmy once again found a way to be in Curly’s space.

One night, Curly got back-to-back calls that he kept ignoring. “Just pick up please so we can sleep,” you tiredly snapped. He chuckled at your annoyance and kissed your forehead before complying.

You didn’t find out until you saw Curly off at work before the start of the mission.

“Are you kidding me? Don’t tell me he was the one calling!” You exclaimed. Curly looks back at his crew who are feet away saying bye to their own families or prepping the ship. “Can you please-”

“No! No, no, no, no,” you hold a finger in front of his face. “Why is he there? I tell you all the time - I don’t like him and I don’t like the influence he had, or I guess has in this case, on you-”

“He needed a job! He needed some help. Things aren’t good on his end. He’s a damn good pilot. He just…he just needs the right push.” His blue eyes hold so much sympathy. You loved your husband’s compassion for others but when it came to Jimmy - after all the times he made it clear you weren’t welcomed - you just wished Curly had a little bit of backbone.

There’s still so much anger and disappointment in you but you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped.

“I hope it all works out and that your boy succeeds. Good luck, Captain.”

You raise both hands in defeat and start to walk away from Curly. This is your last image of him before you fully turn around. He says your name once but doesn’t follow you.

[tinylilacbun]

Could you do a JJ’s little sister fanfic where she gets hit by Luke and JJ comforts her and takes her to the chateau to get her away from it? She could be like 13 maybe

Daddy Issues

Pairing: brother!jj maybank x sister!reader

Warnings: angst, child abuse, Luke, bruises, swearing

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

You squint your eyes shut as you try to close the front door quietly, praying to god that your father is dead asleep or passed out from drinking.

Peeking inside the living room you sigh in relief when he is nowhere to be seen only to squeak when you bump into a chest, looking up to face your father.

"You're late." He states, the smell of beer reaches your nose and you refrain from the urge to scrunch your face up in disgust.

"M-My phone died and I lost track of time." You stammer, cursing at yourself mentally for giving him the satisfaction of knowing that he's scaring you.

"Uh-huh..." He trails off before his fist suddenly connects with your face, sending you on the ground from the inpact. "Care to explain why your goddamn school called me today 'cause you keep ditchin'?"

You cradle the side of your face, tears stinging in your eyes as you try to come up with an explanation only to flinch when he raises his hand again.

"If I get one more call I swear I'll give you a beating that you'll never forget." He seethes and when you don't give any acknowledgement he leans down to grab your face with one hand, his fingers digging uncomfortably into your skin. "Got it?"

"Y-Yes dad..." You answer, your voice shaking.

He let's go of you harshly, walking past you to get himself another beer and you quickly scramble off the floor to rush for your room, locking the door you press your forehead against it and let the tears finally flow.

Fun fact, the only times you don't go to school are the days you got another bruise from Luke, not wanting to keep explaining to your teachers where they're from and risking that CPS gives you a visit, knowing they would instantly take you and JJ into foster care and the chances that you both stay together is low.

You wouldn't know what to do without him. He's your big brother, the only person you can tell everything and see more as a father figure than Luke.

20 minutes later you're curled up on your bed, sobbing quietly into your pillow when a tapping on your window startles you, lifting your head to see JJ.

You force yourself to get up and walk over to the window, opening it for him to stumble through.

"Thanks...didn't wanna get caught by dad." He says, standing back straight he smoothes out his clothes, adjusting the cap on his head.

He doesn't notice what state you're in until you move back to your bed, getting a glimpse of your face from the lamp on your nightstand illuminating it.

His eyes widen as he approaches you. "Whoa, what happened." He asks, lifting his hand to grab your chin but when you flinch away he stops mid air, his jaw clenching the moment he realizes.

Luke. He's gonna kill him. He's gonna fucking-

JJ's thoughts are interrupted by you starting to sob, pulling you into a hug with a hand cradling the back of your head against his chest. "Shh, I'm here now...I got you."

He just stands there with you for a while, not making any move to pull away, waiting for you to make the first move and when you do he pushes you gently to sit down on your bed.

Without saying anything he grabs one of your bags and shoves some clothes into it and any necessities he thinks you might need, then crouches down to pick up the teddy bear you had since you were a baby and shoves it in there as well before he stands back up.

"Let's go." He grabs your hand and pulls you towards your window.

You don't protest and climb over the window seal, your feet touching the ground again you watch JJ come out after you and shut the window quietly.

He grabs your hand again and leads you to his dirt bike, helping you sling the bag onto your back, climbing onto his bike first he waits for you to get on as well.

After you do, you wrap your arms around him tightly, your face pressing against his back. JJ revs his bike before taking off towards the Chateau, knowing you'll feel safer there.

Arriving at your second home JJ stops the others from greeting you, telling them you need a moment and taking you inside, placing his hands on your shoulders he leans down to meet your gaze.

His heart aches at the sight of the blooming bruise on your right eye, your eyes puffy and red rimmed from the crying. "Go take a shower, I'm waiting with the others outside, yea?"

You nod, making your way to the bathroom JJ sighs, walking back outside he grabs a beer can and cracks it open, taking a big sip.

"What's up with tiny maybank?" John b asks, his concern growing when JJ starts pacing, pulling the cap off his head angrily.

"Fucking Luke..." The blonde mutters. "He hit her man! He hit my baby sister!"

Everyone's eyes widen, protectiveness and anger flaring up in all of them. You're the youngest of the group, so of course they see you as their own little sibling and would do anything for you, just like JJ does.

"Why? What happened? Is she okay?" Kie asks concerned and JJ scoffs.

"No, she's not fucking okay, kie. She has a damn black eye 'cause of this piece of shit!" He snaps at her, too worked up to see that his friends are just as worried and upset as he is.

"Man, calm down, okay? We're trying to help." Pope tries to ease the tension.

"Right, right. I'm sorry- I just...fuck. I should've been there I..." JJ trails off, feeling tears build up in his eyes but pushing them back.

He knows how you feel, the feeling of not understanding how someone who's supposed to love and take care of you can hurt you like that without batting an eye.

JJ feels even worse for not being there to protect you, to stop his father from laying a hand on you.

He sits down on the ground near the crinkling fire, his arms braced on his knees when he feels a hand on his shoulder, looking to his side to look at John b.

His best friend doesn't need to be a mind reader to know what he's thinking, squeezing his shoulder in reassurance. "It's not your fault, jay. We're here for you both."

JJ just nods, giving him a small smile. "I know. Thank you. All of you."

Everyone's attention goes to the Chateau when they hear the screen door being shut, seeing you coming towards them, freshly showered and dressed in an oversized shirt.

JJ instantly gets on his feet again, approaching you to pull you into another hug and you wrap your arms around him, holding onto his shirt tightly. "I'm sorry I wasn't there I-"

"S'okay..." You whisper, already feeling a lot better being in the presence of your real family. "I love you, jay..."

"I love you too, kid." He whispers back, pulling back to press a kiss to your forehead. "More than anything.

You smile at him, the throbbing pain from your bruised eye slowly fading as you turn to look at the others. "Hey guys..."

"C'mon, sit with us, sweetie." Sarah pats the places next to her and you go to sit beside her, letting her wrap an arm around you.

The moment everyone gets settled again the usual banter and laughter kills the built up tension in the air, JJ keeping an eye on you the whole time to make sure you're alright.

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu @mylettterstoyou

For JJ:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @flora-eva

[gotta-winwin]

2019 debut year special <> you do too much pt 2

word count: 2.8k TW: anxiety, hurt, angst, comfort, mentions of hit the road trauma italics are in english, bolded words are in mandarin

She supposed she should've expected tour to be difficult. The first couple legs of their An Ode tour were fine, Cyana had gone in wide-eyed and immensely happy to be sharing the stage with her found family. She liked how she was able to hear the cheers of their fans every night and how it lingered even after the concert. She was still nervous about returning to LA for their North American leg, but Joshua had promised he'd make it okay. Cyana always had a strong love for travelling, and was glad she could do it while performing.

Everything started to go sideways moments before landing in Jakarta.

"1-10, Cyana?" Jun touched her shoulder gently to catch her attention. They were waiting at the airport for the others to get through security.

She blinked. "7." It was a system she had started with the boys, finding that asking for a number was easier than asking how their condition was. It was easier for them to answer to, if the pain was rated on a scale. She had deemed anything lower than a 4 to be dangerous and a cause of worry. So far nobody had reported anything lower than 6. Thank god. "What about you?" She asked back. She had noticed the heavy eye bags despite Jun covering his face with a hat.

The boy shrugged. "7 too. Just tired."

She turned, about to tap Dino and ask him the same question, when Wonwoo stood up, startling them all. He had been napping and his sudden movement was unexpected.

"What's going on?" Jun asked, grabbing Wonwoo's elbow to steady the boy.

"They're here." Wonwoo nodded to the rest of the group, who had finished security and was approaching them. He nudged Dino awake with his foot. "Let's go. I need to crash on the plane."

Cyana grabbed her bag, grateful the staff had taken all their luggage. In her drowsy state, she would have a higher chance of forgetting her things than anything else. Shuffling to Seungcheol's side, she walked to match his pace. It was unusual that she could, most times Seungcheol walked too fast for her to keep up.

"Cheol? Number?" She asked, her eyes betraying her worry. Joshua looked over from Seungcheol's other side with as much worry as she felt.

Seungcheol seemed to struggle to even compute the question. "5." He mumbled, glancing at them both. "I'm fine."

Cyana's eyebrows furrowed. "That's low."

"Not a 4." Seungcheol countered. "Don't push it." The tone of his voice sounded more weak than stern.

Cyana could only look at Joshua, who shrugged. She remembered what he had told her just this morning, when she complained to him she just wanted to strap Seungcheol down so that he could rest.

"You can't help people who don't want to be helped." He had told her, although he looked just as distraught. "Coups needs to want to help himself first. Before we can do anything."

Now, looking at the boy in question, she felt eerily as if he wasn't there at all, like some shell of their leader was the one walking next to them instead.

"Can I stay with you tonight?" Cyana pleaded with Jeonghan, who looked mildly bemused under his tired state. "All Mingyu and Hoshi does is snore."

That pulled a laugh out of him. Jeonghan was another member on Cyana's worry radar, and if Mingyu and Hoshi's snoring could gain her a ticket into keeping an eye on Jeonghan, she would take it.

"Okay." Jeonghan relented, moving over to let her into his hotel room. "But just tonight. Don't get too comfortable." He gave her a teasing smile. "You might get too attached."

Cyana frowned. "Big headed much?"

She was glad to see him laugh. She knew how much his body had been aching during this tour. Every time she looked over after a song and saw a brief look of pain flash across his face, she felt a heavy pang in her stomach. On any other circumstance she would've quipped that it was because he was old. But that was the exact reason why it scared her so much: Seungcheol and Jeonghan were getting old and so were their bodies. She wished desperately that they could be young forever.

Sliding into bed, she heard Jeonghan shuffle to turn off the lights before joining, tugging the blanket away from her with a cheeky giggle. Pulling back equally hard, they finally settled in a standstill as they both stared up at the ceiling.

"Number?" Jeonghan whispered into the dark.

"8." There had been no concert today. Cyana felt fine. "Less tired. You?"

"Mentally I'm at a 9. But physically, more like a 6." He admitted.

"Sit out of the next concert, please." Cyana pleaded into the darkness. It helped that neither of them could see each others faces. It was in darkness where it was easiest to talk.

She could hear him breathe as he thought. "I want to perform. For Carats."

"They'll be sad that you're not there, sure." Cyana agreed. "But they'll be even more upset if you die."

Jeonghan laughed. "Oh, our little pessimist." He cooed good naturally. "I'm not going to die."

"It feels like you might." She admitted out loud for the first time. "Every time you take off your shirt for taping it's like you're withering away."

There was silence, and Cyana started to fear she may have overstepped.

"You worry too much." Jeonghan finally said. "If it gets too much before our concert tomorrow, I'll sit out. Promise."

She nodded, although he couldn't see it. "Good. If only Cheol was as cooperative as you."

"You've got his stubbornness, that's for sure." Jeonghan let out a loud sigh. "He's not doing well."

"I've noticed." Cyana agreed. "It's kinda hard not to."

"His mind's not doing well." Jeonghan corrected himself after a pause. "I'm been trying to get him to take a break. See a doctor. Admit he's going a little crazy. He-" Jeonghan's voice cracked. "You know he scrolls through SNS like a ritual? He'll just sit there and read comments. I can always tell when he reaches a particularly cruel one cause he just sits there."

"He hasn't been talking much during filming either." Cyana recalled. "He used to like filming for Going."

"Dieting too." Jeonghan added. "Even though I told him he's fine the way he is."

"He told Hoshi he doesn't see himself being an idol after his contract ends."

Jeonghan froze, and Cyana could tell by the way his arm suddenly stiffened from next to her. He hadn't known.

"I thought he would've told you." She added lamely, feeling like she had definitely said something wrong.

"I guess not." Jeonghan sighed after awhile. "We're a mess, Nana. You joined at a bad time."

Cyana hummed, rolling over to lean her head against his. "That's okay. Maybe it was just meant to be. I'll fix it. I'll fix him."

Jeonghan wrapped an arm around her. "I like that idea actually. You and us all being meant to be."

It was only because she was listening too hard, so concentrated, that she could tell exactly what moment Jeonghan fell asleep, his arm still around her. She told herself to sleep too, she would need all the energy she had if she wanted to help Seungcheol and perform tomorrow.

"We go on in twenty minutes!" One of the event coordinators called out towards the members who had all gathered in the green room. Cyana adjusted her stage outfit, tilting her head up to give her makeup artist easier access. Her eyes flitted around the room as she mentally counted her members. She knew it was the leader's job and she had no business stepping in for a weary Seungcheol as the youngest, but she felt as if she had to. She was easily the most well rested out of them all.

"Number?" She mouthed at Mingyu, who she briefly caught eye contact with.

He merely flashed back an ok sign and a bright smile. She knew he was telling the truth. If there was one thing Seungcheol enforced the most it was their strict 'no lies' policy.

The man in question sat bleary-eyed on the couch, seemingly out of it.

"Are we almost finished?" Cyana mumbled to her makeup artist, who was busy touching up her lips. "I need to go speak to Cheol."

She shook her head. "Not yet."

Cyana sighed as Jeonghan approached her, wincing as he rolled his shoulders. "I think I'm heading out." He leaned down to whisper into her ear.

Her eyes widened. "Really? Good." She eyed his shoulder warily. "Does it hurt a lot?" She asked.

He nodded. "I can barely remember our choreo. Figured I would do better not embarrassing myself onstage tonight."

She let out a sad laugh, stopping quickly when her makeup artist scolded her for moving. "Is Cheol going too?" She wondered hopefully.

Jeonghan shrugged before wincing at the movement. "He hasn't said anything. I'm gonna go to the car before I pass out." He offered weakly, waving towards the staff who was waiting for him at the exit. "Have fun. Be safe." He reminded her, pressing a light kiss to the top of her head before leaving.

She waited impatiently for her makeup artist to finish. Hoshi found her next, murmuring into her ear about position changes they needed to make without Jeonghan here.

"Scratch that and make us 12." She whispered back, moving once she got a green light from her makeup artist. "Cheol's not performing tonight."

Hoshi looked at her, surprised. "He finally agreed?"

Cyana shook her head. "I'll convince him."

He scoffed. "Good luck with that. We've all been trying since last week."

It felt like the longest twenty minutes Cyana had ever experienced.

"Go back to the hotel, Cheol." She begged, fixing his hair so it wouldn't fall into his eyes.

"I'm fine." He insisted again, turning his head away from her. The stubborn piece of hair fell back where it was before.

They'd been at this for hours, it felt like. She was blindly aware of the amount of eyes that were on them, watching who'd win the mental battle.

"Number?" She asked, hoping he'd give her the truth this time.

"7."

She couldn't help but scoff. "You're lying again. We said no lying about the number system."

He finally looked up from the ground to shoot her a glare. "I'm not lying."

"I don't want to fight, Cheol." She sighed. "We're worried. You're not doing okay."

His shoulders dropped as he looked away again. "I can do this concert."

"Hannie oppa's going home." She offered, knowing it'd make him feel better not to be the only one dropping out. It was almost silly, his pride and responsibility.

He looked at her with surprise before quickly averting his eyes again. "Jeonghan's leaving?"

"He's in the car waiting for you. His shoulders aren't feeling well." Cyana grabbed his hand and tried to pull him off the couch. "Please." She begged again.

Resigned, Seungcheol stood up, wavering as he called their manager over with a feeble wave. They both stared at him, watching as he tried to form words into sentences.

"I think-" He broke off, before picking up again. "I think I need a break."

It was like a dam cracked open. Cyana let out a harsh sigh of relief as she watched their manager take Seungcheol away, presumably into the car with Jeonghan and back to the hotel.

"He'll be okay." Minghao joined to stand next to her. He took her hand, gently leading her towards the stage entrance. "Game face on, Yue Liang. We can worry later."

She nodded, knowing he was right. They were resting and safe and that was all that mattered. She'd be back to them in a couple hours anyways.

Cyana cracked open the door to Seungcheol's room as quietly as possible. She knew he was awake, the lights were on despite it being nearly 3AM. The concert had gone smoothly despite the missing members and she knew Seungcheol would appreciate an update.

"Cheolie?" She called into the room, walking in and see the leader standing on the balcony. She slid open the balcony door and stepped out to join him.

He turned around at the sound of the door opening immediately, frowning and opening his mouth to scold her when he saw how little she was wearing.

"Stop." Cyana held a hand up before he could go on his rant.

"You should be wearing a jacket." He said either way. "You'll catch a cold."

"I'm okay." She moved to stand next to him and looked out at the city landscape. "Everything went really well today. Carats had fun."

She received back nothing but silence. Still, she continued. "DK led the skit and he roped Vernon in with him. They somehow got me involved too. I was nervous, but it ended up being lots of fun." She paused to glance up at Seungcheol, who had his eyes trained on the night sky. "I went and said hi to Jeonghan before coming here. He's okay. Worried about you. We all are."

She watched as his eyes seemed to quiver and glisten with forming tears.

"Minghao told me it was just part of the job, going onstage and pretending like everything wasn't just chaos. It was hard. I don't know how any of you do it. Vernon told me it's not like America, where we can just take a break whenever we wanted to and have people understand." She stopped talking again, wishing he'd say something. It was odd for her to be the one talking the most.

"I think people would understand though. You've all worked so hard and people can see it. You should've heard how loud they were cheering you and Jeonghan's names today. It was like you guys were there anyways." She smiled softly at the memory. "We'll be here for a long time, Cheol. You can step back for a little while."

There was a pause as a particularly strong gust of wind passed them, diverting both their attentions.

"I think-" His voice was quiet but she could hear him. "I think I need a break." He echoed the same words he had said hours ago. "I talked to manager-hyung and-" His voice broke. "he said it was okay. If I stopped for a bit."

Cyana nodded. "We'll be okay without you for awhile, Cheol. You don't need to carry so much on your back. There's 14 of us for a reason, we can all take a little bit of the burden."

He was still staring off into the night sky, giving no sign he had really heard her. "It just felt like if I stopped even for one second, the world might spin too fast and lose me." He continued. "Like I needed to be there every moment."

Cyana could relate to the feeling. "I know." She had the same problem. "Someone once told me it's okay to step off the world for a little bit. To stop chasing the cycle and to breathe."

"It spins too fast." He whispered, finally looking at her. She felt a pang in her chest when she noticed there were tears tracking silently down his face. "The world spins too fast."

Cyana nodded ruefully. "Yeah, sometimes it does that." She tried to smile, reaching up to wipe his tears away with her sleeve. "Don't cry, Cheol."

He sniffed, looking down at her and giving a weak smile back. "We've been doing a lot of that recently, huh."

She laughed, and he watched her throw her head back as the sound echoed into the night. He couldn't help but smile at the sight. "It's okay." She said, coming back to him. "Crying is good sometimes."

"You're good at this." He mused. "Comforting people. Maybe you should replace Jeonghan as SEVENTEEN's therapist. Surely you'd do much better. He usually just listens and then starts scolding."

She shook her head. "That's okay. Feelings still make me iffy." Shivering suddenly as another gust of wind blew past, she patted Seungcheol awkwardly on the back. "Good talk. You're okay now, right? It's cold."

He let out a breathy laugh. "I'm better now. Go inside, I'll be in in a moment." He turned back to look out at the city's nightlife.

Cyana moved back into the hotel room, shivering as she grabbed one of his spare zip-ups for the couch and pulled it on. Pulling out her phone, she selected her conversation with Jeonghan, typing out a text.

me: seungcheol, fixed!

She smiled, amused when she saw him immediately start typing back.

hannie: you're the best.

Liking the message, she was about to swipe out and peruse the ramen packets Seungcheol had laid out on the coffee table when another text popped up on her screen.

dino: we're in hoshi's room. got ramen.

Sending Dino a silent thank you, she called back into the room as she opened the door to leave. "I'm going to Hoshi's!" She knew Seungcheol would need his silence.

A quiet grunt of acknowledge came from the balcony as she closed the door behind her.

She knew Seungcheol was a long way from being completely fixed and fine again. She knew Jeonghan's body was still a long way from healthy. She knew they still had months of tour left over without the two. Yet, just like she had told Seungcheol, the world would keep spinning, and Seventeen would come back stronger in 2020 then ever before.

a/n: more angst for you guys (..◜ᴗ◝..) we're officially kicking off into hit the road era!

[sweetkpopmusings]

miserable (you & me) | h. hyunjin <3

a/n: i have had these blurbs in my drafts FOREVER. "miserable (you & me)" is a song i've had on repeat since it dropped. i'm also a sucker for angst, so please enjoy these self-indulgent posts (they all have happy endings, i promise!) there will be one for each member, so stay tuned <3 pics not mine~

content: angst, happy ending | wc: 1k | warnings: none really! | pairing: hyunjin x gn!reader | requests:open

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

난 가망이 없는 미래에 손을 뻗어 날 부었네 / “i stretched out my hand towards a hopeless future and poured myself out”

of course it would be raining right now. the day’s weather had been normal, a smattering of clouds above and an overcast glow hinting that the weather might take a turn for the worse, but nothing was set in stone. that turned out to be true in a more literal sense, hyunjin realized, while watching people mill about on the street below with freshly opened umbrellas. he scoffed. what did you think would happen? what did you think would change?

the answer was nothing. but i had no choice.

you and hyunjin met up for your usual weekend get-together, returning to a favorite drink spot of yours after a few weekends of schedules keeping you apart. he had missed you so dearly, something that became achingly clear when his whole body lit up from seeing your face peek through the entrance. you noticed the buzz in his body when he greeted you, a sweet laugh escaping your lips. hyunjin’s heart melted at the sound, collapsing even more into endearment when you said, “i missed you a ton, too.”

a moderate number of people took up the tables and seats in the building, so there was a comfortable hum of casual conversation surrounding you. hyunjin, as always, was so closely tuned into the sound of your voice, he would’ve believed you if you said the place was completely empty. it was clichéd for sure, but he was enraptured by every single thing you said. he loved listening to all your thoughts, stories, jokes, anecdotes; whatever you were willing to share with hyunjin, he’d accept with open and grateful hands. you both laughed as you finished telling him an embarrassing story your friend shared with you the other day, and, so you could take a sip of your drink, you asked hyunjin, “how are you?”

without skipping a beat, hyunjin answered, “i’ve liked you for the longest time.”

seeing as that was quite the unexpected answer to your question, you froze. your brain buffered, face showing barely any expression, except maybe shock or confusion. hyunjin, perhaps realizing what just occurred, reacted with wide eyes and frantic apologies. if his confession hadn’t stopped you so sharply in your tracks, the endless refrain of i’m so sorry! i don’t know why i did that. i’m so stupid! would have drowned out the words he spoke so naturally. you didn’t have time to process, but you tried to protest against hyunjin’s incessant apologies. this, it seemed, was fruitless.

hyunjin, with shaking legs and fumbling hands, gathered his things. 

“hyunjin, what’re you–”

“i should go, y/n,” he responded quickly, too quickly for him to mean it.

your heart broke at the way his voice cracked when he said your name, “no, just stay for a minute. please, i–”

his chest tightened when please fell from your lips, but he couldn’t bear the idea of you begging him to stay, only to tell him you didn’t feel the same. yes, it was immature, and, sure, it was probably selfish. yet all hyunjin could think to do was leave. so he did, his goodbye all staggered breaths and darting eyes.

you turned in your chair, barely catching his gaze as he raced to who knows where, “hyunjin?”

his eyes caught yours, and he ripped them away before he lost his foolish resolve. he hoped he offered you a soft smile, something to say i’m sorry for this. i just want you to be happy, and i guess this is me trying to make sure you stay that way. the adrenaline rush meant he couldn’t feel his face, though. he had no way of knowing what he looked like when he looked back at you. 

hyunjin’s whole trip home consisted of pleas for his legs to move faster. if his steps hit the ground hard enough, he could ignore all the scolding voices inside his head until he was safe in his room. if he were honest with himself, he was outrunning the look of shock on your face, and the way your voice fell when you asked him to stay. hyunjin, as he caught his breath in his room, realized that running away from you meant he ended up in front of his window, facing a future of heartbreak. a sardonic laugh broke free from his lips. maybe if you did it the right way, at the right moment, you’d be looking at them instead. maybe you’d be thinking of something other than angsty plotlines for the strangers passing by on the street below. 

“or maybe i could be hurt much worse,” he whispered to himself. 

that was the last sound that shared space with hyunjin in the room. he sat, mind racing and leg bouncing, completely silent. until someone knocked on the door.

hyunjin shuffled to the entryway, instinctively opening it at a familiar knock, only coming to when he saw you standing before him. of course, no matter how hard he tried, his body would always end up right in front of you.

ignoring the way his deflated figure twisted your chest up in all the worst ways, you chided, “you know it’s rude to confess to someone and leave immediately after, right? you didn’t give me a chance to respond.”

you huffed as you spoke. hyunjin couldn’t help the endeared smile that graced his face when he watched your frustrated, furrowed brow turn into a cute, unintentional pout. 

he thought, they are more precious to me than they’ll ever know, and he admitted, “you’re right. it was very rude of me. while i may not deserve to hear it after the way i acted, would you mind telling me what you were going to say?”

your shoulders relaxed as the familiar shine in hyunjin’s eyes returned. his beautiful smile came back too, as he watched your face light up with a reply he’d only ever dreamed of before.

“i like you too, hyunjin. i have for the longest time.”as though his hands weren’t shaking from anxiety a mere five minutes before this moment, hyunjin reached out to you, pulling you into his home and into his arms. when you accepted his invitation and melted into his embrace, hyunjin thought, i’ll pour my heart out to them again and again, if it means we’ll always end up right here, together.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[ninupi]

Hello I have a request! Could you write a scenario where either Kakucho or Draken (you can write for both or do one or the other I don't mind) have a crush on reader(they're friends though but they haven't confessed) however there's someone else who also likes reader and asks them to help them get together with reader🥸How would they react? And what would they do? I hope that makes sense 😅

Thank you 😊

Jealous | k. draken & kakucho (separately)

₊˚⊹♡ tags; fem!reader, both of these are in a good timeline where everyone look gets along, mention of reader looking up at draken, everyone lowk making fun of sanzu in drakens lol, ran being canonically blind but refusing to wear glasses is so funny to me LMFAOO, kakucho being a liar boy

₊˚⊹♡ wc; 830 (draken) 331 (kakucho)

₊˚⊹♡ a/n; ahh im so happy I finally found time to write this, I literally couldn't stop thinking about it when I first saw it lol

k. draken

Draken was intensely watching the TV from the couch while Mikey and Mitsuya were competing in mortal combat on the TV. Most of the guys were over at Mikey's house right now taking turns playing the new game. 

"I'm going to kick your ass Mitsuya..." Mikey warned after receiving a combo almost ending his character's life "You said that the last two rounds, maybe you should focus on fighting!" Mitsuya laughed nudging Mikey with his elbow trying to distract him. 

"You seriously suck at this Mikey!" Smiley laughs angering the blonde even more "Next round, you and me asshole!" Mikey yells pointing at Smiley after Mitsuya's character brutally rips Mikey's apart. "Ok let's go, this is gonna be a piece of cake" he smiles while switching places with mitsuya to sit on the floor. 

While the two of them argued about who they wanted to play Draken heard the front door open "I'm home! And I brought y/n so don't be weird!" Draken perked up once he heard Emma mention your name, you two had become friends earlier this year at school and Emma's been bringing you around a lot more. 

"Ok, so no one cares that I'm home?" Emma asks walking into the living room while y/n is behind her "No, not really" Mikey answers locking his character in "Oh screw you Mikey, I hope you lose!" she yells throwing a couch pillow at the back of his head.

"Hi y/n! How are you?" Draken can't help the way his face contorts in disgust at Sanzu's tone of voice "Hi Haru, I'm fine. Are you playing too?" Haru? Draken didn't know that the two of you were so close "Yeah, I played against Baji earlier and won" he bragged causing Baji to yell at him. 

"Are you not going to say hi to me Draken?" you question softly kicking his leg, he can feel the back of his neck getwarm. "Hey" He knows he probably seems like an asshole he just gets so nervous every time he talks to you. But when he sees you smile at him he knows you don't mind his cold demeanor. 

"Come on y/n, let's go!" Emma grumbles grabbing your hand and leading you toward her room "Bye y/n!" Sanzu calls out waving to you "Bye Haru! Bye Draken!" you smile waving at the two of them. Draken gives Sanzu a certain look when he hears Baji speak up. 

"You're so embarrassing man..." he sighs and Draken looks at Baji who's nodding towards Sanzu "Huh? What do you mean?" Sanzu questions offended "When are you going to tell her you like her? I'm sure she knows but it's best to get rejected now" Smiley laughs starting up his round with Mikey. 

"What are you guys talking about? I don't like y/n..." Draken turns to give Sanzu giving him an unimpressed look while everyone else turns to look at him including Smiley who paused the game to do so, much to Mikey's dismay. "NO!" he screamed out at the paused screen displaying how he was about to hit a combo on Smiley's character. 

"Do you think we're dumb?" Mitsuya genuinely questions fully turning to face Sanzu "Hi y/n! I love you y/n! Can I lick your shoes y/n!" smiley mocks Sanzu causing the guys to all laugh except Sanzu who starts protesting in embarrassment "I don't sound like that, and be quiet what if she hears you!" he hisses looking in the direction of Emma's room where the two of you were. 

"Her room is on the other side of the house, they can't hear anything" Mikey explains while fidgeting with the controller in his hands "Whatever man just ask her out already she might say yes, who knows" Smiley shrugs turning back to the tvand unpausing the game.

"Can you help me ask her out?" Draken can't even hide the way his face contorts in disgust before facing Sanzu "What?" he asks even though he heard him the first time "Can you help me ask y/n out?" Sanzu asks again a bit more harshly this time "No, do it yourself" Draken snaps feeling a bit annoyed about Sanzu's presence now. 

He feels Sanzu slump into the couch next to him when he gets up saying he needs a drink when the others ask him where he's going "Get me a soda!" Mikey calls out before losing to Smiley, again. When Draken walks into the kitchen he sees you sitting there almost like you were waiting for him. 

"Hey..." he mutters walking to the fridge "I heard you guys," you say without much emotion "Oh" Draken just continues to stare at the inside of the fridge not really caring about a drink anymore "I don't really like Haru like that you know..." you sigh leaning against the counter next to the fridge. 

Draken can feel a weight lift off of his shoulders "Oh really?" he questions standing up a bit straighter while closing the fridge, without grabbing a drink. "Yeah I kinda like someone else...someone a bit taller." you smile looking up at him. "That's nice to know" he smiles giving you his full attention now. 

kakucho

Kakucho really liked ran haitani, but right now he really wanted to punch his teeth in. "I'm real sorry about that sweetheart, are you alright?" Kakucho watched ran held your arm softly with a clenched jaw as he approached the two of you "Yeah I'm fine, don't worry about it" you smiled up at him.

"Hey, what happened?" Kakucho questioned walking up behind you softly pulling you out of rans hold. "Oh nothing, we just bumped into each other" you explain with a soft laugh while ran moved a bit closer to Kakucho squinting at him. 

"You should wear your glasses, then you'd see where you're going" Kakucho muttered pushing Ran's face away roughly "Come on my eyesight ain't that bad" he laughed standing straight realizing it was Kakucho who joined the conversation. 

"It actually really is, you need glasses" Kakucho sighs wondering how Ran's gotten this far in life being so blind "Oh yeah you should probably get glasses if it's that bad! But I have to go, I'll see you later kakucho?" you question looking at him with hopeful eyes. 

"Yeah, I'll come pick you up" he smiles nudging you with his elbow "Ok great, I'll see you later, bye guys!" you call out, running towards your class "You gotta set me up with her Kakucho" ran immediately says once you're out of earshot, nudging him with his elbow.

  "Yeah, not happening man," Kakucho says walking away from the taller boy "What? Why not? C'mon, help me out man" Ran sighed throwing an arm over the younger boy's shoulder "I'm not gonna help you ask out my girlfriend."

Kakucho is forced to stop when ran stops walking looking at him slightly shocked "Oh man I'm sorry, I didn't know you two were dating…that's my bad" Kakucho refused to look at ran knowing he was lying straight to his face. Ran didn't need to know that right now though, "It's fine, but yeah I'm not setting you up with her."

[mybworlds]

Chapter 9: Emptiness

Pairing: joel miller x f!reader (no use of Y/N) | Rating: 18+ Minors DNI | W.C.:

Summary: Your life sounds perfect: you live with a perfect man, you live in your dream house, you do the job you love, you don't miss anything, except love and passion.

Warnings: no use of Y/N, use of you, reader is a photographer, reader has no physical descriptions except hair (no type or color) long enough to hold on to, unspecified age gap, Joel and reader are two cheaters, for a while. Smut, use of pet names, dirty talk, masturbation, unprotected PiV but the first time, creampies, comeplay, oral (both f and m recieving), exhibitionism, size kink, personal use of an unspecified sex toy. No outbreak here. Let me know if I missed anything!

Masterlist

follow @mybworlds and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

Thx for the dividers @saradika-graphics

Taglist @harriedandharassed

The air suddenly becomes suspended, as if charged with a strange electricity. Patrick no longer speaks and Joel seems to have become a statue, you don't know what to do or say. You wish you hadn't been so direct and hasty in your words, but now it's done, you can't go back.

“Patrick?” you resume “I'm sorry, but I had to tell you the truth. It's not fair that you still believe or hope that we'll get back together.” you are lapidary even though you don't know if there will actually something with Joel, but you really hope so.

Patrick sighs, “I see.” He sighs again, “Are you happy?”

You feel a tightness in the pit of your stomach, you close your eyes and look up at Joel who instead is not looking at you anymore and you feel empty. Is he afraid? Does he not want to? Does he not care about you?

On the other hand, he’s always been clear, he told you since your first meeting that he doesn't want a relationship with you or anyone else, why should he change his mind now? For you? Not even before you were in bed, he told you that he wanted a future with you, he just told you that he was fine, but... while for you that might mean having feelings, for him it might not be like that.

“I'm confused.” You are sincere in your response to Patrick.

“He doesn’t want you?” he asks you.

You look up at Joel who has his back to you now, his body turned toward the kitchen and his hands resting on the sink, his head still low.

���I don't know.” You answer him and in those moments, seeing his reaction, you can't help but wonder if deep down you didn't do everything wrong with Joel and Patrick. “Patrick, I'm sorry,” you add, clutching the phone tighter.

“We’ve both hurt each other, baby.” He sighs. “I don’t know what’s going to happen with him, but I hope he makes you feel more important than I did.” he adds with a regretful tone.

You wanted to tell him that given Joel's expression, it's highly unlikely that you can or he will want to continue seeing you. But you don’t say anything.

“I wish you every happiness,” Patrick tells you again.

“Yes, you too.” there’s still a moment of silence between you, then he ends the call.

You place the phone on Joel's kitchen peninsula and then look up, taking in the weight of the words you just said: Joel is silent and motionless as if everything he has heard has robbed him of the strength to move and speak. He still doesn't look at you.

“Joel?” you call, getting up from the stool. “I’m sorry you heard it that way, but… it’s the truth.”

He sighs, looking towards the window next to the kitchen, “Do you know why I never wanted to bond with someone again?” he asks without looking at you.

You shake your head, even though you know he's not looking at you.

“Because I can’t stand to see or hear words like the ones I heard. D’ you know what my ex-wife said to me when I tried to find a way to get back together?” he pauses, a long one and that's when he turns towards you “That she had fallen in love with someone else, that she was confused, that things between us weren't workin’. Do you know how that made me feel? Useless, a useless man." he nods “And the worst thing is that Patrick is my friend and I did what I did to him.”

You frown, “There were two of us, there have always been two of us who were together, in confiding in each other.” You tell him almost in a pleading tone “Please, don’t feel guilty. We both wanted it.” he shakes his head. “Joel? Please don’t.” a horrible creepy feeling spreads inside you, Joel doesn't want you. He's pushing you away.

Your eyes fill with tears, your lips tremble, you look down, while timid tears fly towards the floor. You feel like throwing up, a feeling of rejection, of pain tightens your stomach making you almost unable to breathe.

“Please, talk to me.” you beg.

His face becomes tense, then he finally looks up at you and the sweet look you had found there until a few minutes ago has disappeared. He looks cold, his gaze hard, then shakes his head, “I can’t.” his gaze is empty, unrecognizable.

“Maybe we could...”

“No.” his tone is cold, he doesn’t allow for replies “There’s no us.” you freeze in place "You better go.” he adds, looking everywhere but at you.

The world around you is spinning wildly. Suddenly nothing seems to make sense, every thought you have is jumbled together so meaningless. Your lower lip is trembling, shy tears are streaming down your cheeks, “That was the reason why I just fucked. Now even that won't be possible anymore because every time it’ll happens, I won't be able to help but wonder if I will see your same look in another woman, or if any other woman won't want to change her life because of me." his is a thin whisper in which each word is well articulated and impossible not to hear.

You’re about to tell him not to shut himself away, not to treat you like this, but he interrupts you again, “When you go out, make sure you close the door tightly.”

You're about to repeat his name and beg him not to treat you like this, but nothing comes out of your mouth, not even a sound. He gives you one last long, silent look, then you're left alone in his house.

You look desperate and absent at the same time, you don't even know where you're going. You only know that you're empty, completely empty. Your heart is beating hard in your chest, it hurts. You are speechless and almost breathless. What happened has completely shaken you. You are struggling not to give in to the tears that are building up in the back of your eyes.

Everything is destroyed. Everything is lost.

You have lost everything.

You have nothing left and what could have been a beautiful project that you could have shared with him, with Joel, has disintegrated because by his own admission he himself has already lived everything and does not intend to do it again. He's always been clear from the beginning. His previous relationship burned him so much that even his heart is reduced to ashes and now maybe hearing it beat again for someone pains him so much that he doesn't want to feel it.

You wipe away your tears a couple of times, not wanting to attract anyone's attention. You know that surely no one will even look at your face, but crying for you has always been an act to be done alone.

You have now arrived in front of your shop, the seat of your great infinite pride, your job. Maybe everything can start from here, from who you are, a photographer, a good photographer. And it's not you who says it, but the people who turn to you.

You struggle to concentrate, your mind often goes back there, to that silent goodbye. Joel won't go back. If his ex-wife hurt him as much as he says, he won't look for you again.

No matter how hard you try to think positively, to focus on something else, your mind always takes you back to that exact moment, to when you destroyed three lives at once, when you uttered those fateful words.

I fell in love with someone else.

You feel stupid because for a day you really had illusions that Joel could choose you, but then all of that dissolved before your eyes, shattering your hopes and your heart.

Emptiness.

That's what you feel.

Emptiness.

Just a deep, unbridgeable void.

As the hours pass, the situation does not improve, indeed it seems always be worse.

You feel weak, cowardly, maybe the problem is not Patrick or Joel who clearly rejected you, but you are the problem. Maybe you need so much love, passion, desire that you don't care about making others feel bad if you're fine.

What kind of person have you become?

Daisy's words that should comfort you make you collapse into a state of great despair. She’s very sweet, she takes great care of you in every possible and imaginable way, but all this doesn't lift your spirits.

You don't know what kind of person you are anymore. You once knew exactly who you were and what you wanted, you thought you knew it and you went straight down that road.

The result?

You hit a wall called Joel Miller. A wall that left your heart broken, bleeding and humiliated you like no one had ever done before.

But you want to make a last desperate attempt, you want to talk to him. You want to do it calmly, find the right words and not be reckless. You know it will almost certainly hurt to hear certain things, but you want to hear them. You have two.

Are you a masochist?

Yes, maybe.

But then you tell yourself that if he's cruel to you again, you'll be the one who doesn't want to think about him anymore. You want him, you want him in your life, but you don't want someone who makes you feel weak and vulnerable, who uses you and then throws you away like that.

You are not like that, you know it. You know you are worth so much more than this. You deserve better. And if that better is being without Joel Miller, then so be it.

Daisy of course advises you against it. She says you aren’t thinking clearly yet. You feel confused, but determined.

It's been almost three weeks and now you're sure you want to talk to him, you need to. Even if you know you probably won't get a different answer than the one you've already had, but as much as it may hurt you now you want to put an end to it.

The emptiness he left in you has given way to disappointment and anger.

You reach his house thinking about what to say to him, but everything seems stupid or incoherent. You are in front of his place.

You ring the bell.

What the fuck are you doing here?

You hear a voice shouting ‘comin’, it’s a woman. Your heart skips a beat. A moment later, a beautiful woman opens the door. The woman is wearing a bathrobe, she looks strong and determined, but above all happy. She smiles at you, “You’re the delivery guy, aren’t you? You were fast!”

You're shocked, “No... uhm, is Joel there?”

“Yes, are you a colleague of his?” she asks you, pulling the edges of his bathrobe a little tighter.

“No.”

“So, who are you?” she asks.

“Uhm…”

“Tess, who’s there?” another voice from inside reaches your ears. It's Joel.

Joel appears behind her, opening the door a little wider. His expression changes from puzzled to astonished, then he becomes gloomy, “What are you doing here?” he asks you.

What are you doing there? You're wondering that too.

Tess looks at your face, then at Joel's. You don't know what to answer.

You kind of expected it, but not in such a brutal way. He replaced you even though he told you he couldn't do that anymore after what you told him.

“Sorry, I was wrong to come.” You don’t know what else to say to them.

How stupid!

You turn your back on them, feeling a lump in your throat. You move away quickly from Joel’s place. You were wrong to go there, but now more than ever you feel like you can move on and stop thinking about him. He has already replaced you. There’s nothing left for you.

You decide you don't want to think about Joel Miller anymore, since you met him you have fallen into a vortex of passion, he has satisfied you every time, but no one has shattered your heart like he did. You hold your hair with both hands, tonight you stay in your shop where you tinker with the computer. You look back at all the photoshoots you've done over the last two years and think about how many times you've put yourself aside to please others, but making yourself unhappy and pretending it was your decision.

Now all this has to end. From now on you will only think about yourself, for a while enough with love. You have only known how to make a lot of messes. You go through some old emails and find one from a few years ago that you received for a fashion show of a prestigious fashion house. You never wanted to trash it because you liked to remember that moment and then because in the email as a post scriptum they had written to you that if you had been interested there would always have been a place for you. It was really a great service that you did, you remember that they wrote to you that the sales had even tripled after your work!

You smile while looking at the screen. Why not!

Maybe Saint Barbara will do you good.

[zhuoyichenpretty]

Eps 30-33 Commentary

No meta, just reactions! I have less to say about some eps so I'm combining several episodes worth. To make up for my head-emptiness and lack of meta, I've included more pictures lmao. Spoilers under the cut!

Ep 30:

"You really are pitiful." Li Lun waking up thinking of ZYC's words oooh they did that opening line for Li Lun/ZYC lovers (me)

What a homoerotic way to give the Truth Eye

ZYC and ZYZ having their first drink(s) together here, ZYZ and Li Lun having one last game of chess here. Gay ppl will go “I know a place” and take you to a damp cave and a little stone table in the Wilderness

Oof. The apparent inherence of winning/losing in their activity of choice compared to the drinks that took place here between ZYC and ZYZ. Even with a draw, it’s competitive by nature. If Li Lun knew about the three (very intense, very intimate) toasts that came before in this very spot, I wonder how aggrieved he’d feel.

Ah well there goes the date spot /:

I’m so happy to see LZY (Bai Jiu’s actor) get to fight! His fight scenes in MTJY were awesome and he continues to impress here as well. It’s so fun to watch!

………..to revisit my question from previous commentary about when the grievances against Ying Lei will end, the answer is never ;-;

Damn…For ZYC to promise to spare Li Lun after all that Li Lun has put him through specifically and personally. ZYC really fucking loves ZYZ doesn’t he.

I’m so fucked up over Ying Lei’s last words jesus christ.

ZYC sobbing and feeling the fleeting warmth of the rock Ying Lei was just leaning against…when will the world stop taking away his family members??? His brothers???

That scene of everyone looking at Bai Jiu after Ying Lei dissipates. The fact that he's right there. And it’s like they traded one life for another. The two babies of the group. Goddammit.

Do NOT hit me with Bai Jiu’s actor singing “Broken-Tailed Bird” right now oh my god

So like…regarding ZYZ losing his demonic power, does he still count as the most evil demon of ZYC’s time? Can someone ring Ying Long and ask?

ZYC crybaby oh no I can’t believe he’s crying over ZYZ being so weakened aw I love him

My god, Bai Jiu running after Ying Lei and into ZYC’s arms has to be one of my favorite sequences in the whole show. So so good. So so painful. Between this scene, all the flashbacks, and ZYC’s reaction when he died, I’m at least glad the show is spending so much screen time and significance on Ying Lei’s send-off, even if I’m heartbroken that he’s gone. We couldn’t even have the whole family reunited for one moment.

Also have you ever seen a man so mother?

No but seriously "Cry if you want...[tears] have to do with our hearts" ZYC my healthy masculinity king!!!

This song fucking hurtssssssssss this cheese (it's buttermilk) hurts everything hurts

I’m glad PSJ gets time and space to react. Her lines about being a mortal and not being needed are so good but also ow!!! And oh WX always knows exactly what to say to her 🥹

I love everything ZYC says to Bai Jiu about each family member (like yeahhh WX is unlucky ��� and yeaahHH PSJ does need support too) but MAN the way he says ZYZ’s name is so fucking good. The fact that it gets so much emotion across without saying a single word further as he gets interrupted. His voice and his expression both collapsing a little in that moment. Efficiency of acting strikes again.

Is it even possible for ZYC to cherish this little family more?

Yo this dramatic ass lighting on ZYZ and ZYC standing in the doorway. Why y’all need so much drama just to talk? Also oughhhh ZYC’s gaze is a mess looking every which way while discussing WX’s poison. He is such a bad liar (but he looks so good doing it). Is that why they gotta talk about this like ten feet apart so ZYZ can’t see him lying? Lmao

Okay also tho if ZYC's coming around looking like this I am not hearing a single thing he's saying:

They flashed back to the previous time ZYC held his hand out but cut away from ZYZ taking it this time. Is it bc the absolutely unfettered tension between them can’t pass censors anymore? Haha god but that shot of ZYC slowly meeting ZYZ’s eyes from ZYZ’s POV whewwww we don’t got the skinship but their gazes are kind of insane??? TJR in blue contacts is too powerful I'm shaking somebody needs to stop him.

Ep 31:

Trying so hard not to be driven a little crazy by the lapses in continuity in this show (‘: It’s just tonal and costuming stuff that are a little difficult for me to ignore, just the fact that it’s kind of apparent which scenes were filmed in what order based on their costume/styling changes + the sets, and how sometimes the tone from the previous events don’t smoothly carry over because of this. But it's momentary, I just gotta. Power through.

YO the Pei siblings sparring was so cool and for what. They should have had WX spectating instead of staring at nothing in the previous scene (-:

Damn how long has it been since they played the fun music. Also feels kind of wrong without Ying Lei though fml

Awwww Qing Geng I missed her she’s so cute!! I wasn't doing ep commentaries during her arc so I gotta make up for it here. Her actress is so talented and adorable, and her costuming in this show is stunning!! Her lashes!! Her colors!!

THE TREE BRANCHES lmfaooo ZYC what happened to being worried for ZYZ’s weak body?? We really haven't had a moment like this in so long though (':

Well I do like the reason why WZY had a fake out death, that’s pretty clever and narratively sound, but also oh god what in the AOT??? The inner cores hidden in the medicine is some odious fucking work dear lord

I also like that the endgame is coming about from what initially seemed like another small-time case. Of course the evil physician's huge scheme at the end weaponizes plague and poison and medicine.

Ayeee fun that they used the teleporter on WZY instead of as a getaway

Lmfao ZYC just standing there taking a huge hit of the poison smoke. Poor baby doesn’t watch movies and doesn’t know smoke from a bad guy always means some kind of poison

Why does poisoned!ZYC have such an incredible smokey-eye siren look I’m shook

After knowing the poison is about indulging in your greatest wishes, the first moment ZYC woke up and approached ZYZ they sure looked like they were about to indulge in something sorry ignore me

The way this is so similar to ZYZ’s imaginings where he and WX always turn around and look at the camera. The show wants censors to believe they’re looking at ZYZ but we've known all along who the third POV is here

Also why aren’t ZYC’s bro and dad in the wish illusion?

Ohh the eerie instrumental rendition of the OST when ZYC draws his sword is too good. And yesss we were so due for some more crazy dream fuckery like is this real? Is this real??

Ep 32:

The team is spread so thin )-: One man (mountain god) down and a whole town to save and an immortal villain to vanquish.

WZY's eagerness in trying to goad ZYC into killing himself while poisoned is so so sinister goddamn. I love how disturbing it is to slowly realize what he wants without any lines at all

ZYZ shielding ZYC from a huge fucking fireball with just his hand is adorable and sad:

I already normally love Li Lun's whole leaf-swirly entrances and exits but you know I cheered when he deus ex machina-ed his way here!!! With that bgm too!!!

Li Lun came back to accept ZYC into their throuple. He's had some time to think and yeah he's decided ZYC's kinda hot and maybe shouldn't die or else ZYZ will be sad.

):

ZYC's soft and anguished, "Qing Geng" when he realizes she gave him her inner core. That's my bleeding heart hero ;-;

Throuple of the fucking yearrrrrr:

Spoiler for ep 33/34 but—watching Bai Jiu watch the three of them and realize he can't do anything to help here... It would have been dangerous for him to stay, but I wonder if things could have ended differently ):

Ep 33:

Oughhhhh Pei Siheng ))): The cruel fucking poetry of PSJ, the most emotionally closed-off character, having her heart, her brother, made into her armor. And then to lose him once more.

ZYC proving time and again that his heart is entirely boundless and he'll shelter anyone from the rain and he just wants everyone to live:

LI LUN/ZYC LOVERS HOW ARE WE FEELIN'?!?

Did not expect MORE ZYC choking now that they're on the same side but yeah Li Lun is not one to let go of a good thing I get it. I'm screaming but I get it. "I'm giving you half my demonic power" yeah right just admit you like doing this dw Li Lun this is a safe space.

Literally what am I watching and also no don't mind me, keep going. Feral over ZYC dropping his hand and letting it happen.

But lmfao the way Li Lun did not need to be doing all that, like he sends his power out to ZYZ without even making physical contact. He could've just grabbed ZYC by the shoulder.

Can't believe I just keep winning:

ZYC didn't even know what Li Lun was doing putting his arms around him and he just let it happen. That's some next level trust.

Ah goodbye Li Lun, presumably another victim of the "(ex-)villains can't have good endings" brand of censorship

Oof I love that the initial horror after the seeming victory is reserved first for the simple fact that ZYC and ZYZ are separated, that ZYC can't go to him the way he was intending to. Even when it's unclear yet that WZY is still alive, just the wrongness of them being divided this way is so poignant. ZYC has such a helpless look about him when he says ZYZ's name.

Goddammit WZY saw Li Lun choke ZYC and got ideas.

Oh I love the uncertainty of whether the One-Word Spell works on ZYC or not. ZYZ's sudden and intense fear. Also though WZY tries to use ZYC dying as a deterrent for ZYZ blowing up the barrier but he's literally choking the life out of ZYC as we speak

Bai Jiu's completely unrestrained screaming and crying in pain is so brutal to listen to. His scenes go on forever. Also, the choice of having some of his flashbacks be blurred and vague in the background, once again something privately kept for the character

ZYC holding out his hand to ZYZ a third time ;-; The utter relief of being able to reach each other again paralleling that previous horror of separation.

ZYC physically feeling Bai Jiu's death oh god. We do not get a single moment of happiness and victory in this drama everything is bought with pain and returns pain I hate it here.

Also another post-finale thought (spoilers for the end of the drama)—If ZYZ remained in his weakened state, I really am curious if he would have still met the conditions of the prophecy (ZYC being cursed to kill the most evil demon of his time, if the prophecy is indeed conditional like that, of course). If that could have been a technical loophole, did Li Lun giving both of them his power and then ZYC giving ZYZ his as well basically fulfill it again? I mean, logistically speaking, without that extra power, I'm not sure if ZYZ would have been able to trigger the Baize cycle again (or whatever it is he did to save the town). So the show's final tragedy can be traced all the way back to these moments of giving out of love and protection, just as Bai Jiu being in the perfect place for his final sacrifice came about because ZYC, ZYZ, and Li Lun were trying to protect him and get him out of danger. The way love and grief are so helplessly, inevitably intertwined that one begets the other. They were all just trying to save each other.

On that completely painful note, that's 30-33! And it'll be downhill from here for the next one (-:

[thelunarfairy]

Hey there! Am back :3

Chap 120 was uh...ow. AidaIro hurt my feelings to put it lightly.

Ahem- anyways.

I was thinking a lot about how in thos timeline, Tsukasa and Amane almost switched roles. I mean, Tsukasa is still infested with the entity, but Amane is the one doing the enitity's bidding this time. I know Hanako still had the entity in him in the normal timeline, but you het the point.

Anyway, I wanted to know your take on why Amane seems so out of control with the entity, and Tsukasa handles it better. Why Hanako needs a seal. I mean, Tsukasa does some pretty fucked up shit, sure, but he also doesn't try to kill everyone or sacrifice them (Sakura, Natsuhiko, etc). It's like Tsukasa and the entity have more of a partnership, while Amane is almost enslaved to it.

Now, I know memory also plays a part here, because he doesn't recognize Kou or Nene (at least not u til the split second when Nene screams for Hanako to help her) and it snaps him out of it. If he remembered them, would he able to hold back and not murder Kou and Mitsuba? Then again, can't exactly ignore all the murdering he's doing anyway. Besides that, Amane has always been known to have the kinder temperament. You can see it in his eyes versus Tsukasa's, and his personality in general.

I guess my curiosity stems from the fact that with the entity, Tsukasa never killed humans despite having the entity in him. He was probably hurting Amane, but it was because he WANTED to break Amane right? Wanted him to kill him. So why could Tsukasa grow up (before he was murdered obv) and not go on a murderous rampage, while Amane does? Amane is literally an adult too, and Tsukasa is still a child! Lil psychopathic bb.

Sorry if this is too long of an ask 😅 I really dont know how to stfu lol. Excited to see your take on this if you decide to!! No worries if not :)

Hello dear!!!!! welcome back!!!

That chapter made the fandom suffer XD

You answered your own question. Tsukasa has a special connection with the entity. Apparently he is the first one not to fear the entity, he taught it to speak and stayed with it daily for a while.

Tsukasa sacrificed himself willingly, he fulfilled the agreement, and he went alone, he didn't have to be forced to do it. So yes, he and the entity have a partnership.

Tsukasa does what the entity asks, which means that it doesn't need to control and order him, because he will do it.

And the entity "trusts" Tsukasa so much, that it allowed him to come back, and the one who asked it to come back with him was Tsukasa.

It wasn't the entity that said "you'll only come back if I go with you".

It was Tsukasa who said that the entity would go with him.

In the old reality, Tsukasa is committed to accomplishing some still mysterious things, his intelligence resonates with the entity. He can convince it to do certain things or stop it.

Like how he easily makes the house retreat when he sets it on fire.

Not because the house wouldn't listen if he asked, but because Tsukasa was pretending not to have a direct connection with the house to Kou and Nene, so that they wouldn't suspect.

He wouldn't say "stop it" in front of them, so he used another effective way without taking away the idea that he is trapped and is a victim of the house. Yes, he is a victim, but he was the one who chose to sacrifice himself, he wasn't forced to do it.

He talks casually with the entity, as if they were close friends. He isn't afraid of anything, so Tsukasa doesn't need to be manipulated or controlled, he does what he has to do.

Remember that I'm referring to Yorishiro and little Tsukasa from the old reality. It's still too early to conclude anything about Tsukasa of the new reality.

Amane from the old reality fears the entity, you can see the fear reflected in his eyes, he knows the danger that creature represents. Hanako doesn't like the entity and is forced to do the things it demands.

He doesn't like what he does and is against it, but it seems that he has too much experience and understands that fighting the entity is problematic. The entity will force him to do what it wants, as you saw, and since Hanako doesn't want to do what it asks, then the entity takes control over him.

This seems to be something that really happened in the old reality too, since he can only control himself if he is sealed.

In the new reality, Amane has no control at all, suddenly he is controlled and the entity does what it wants without even allowing Amane to have memories of it, so that he won't be able to try to get rid of it.

So in short, Tsukasa has a partnership with the entity, so it doesn't need to control Tsukasa at all. (in the old reality).

Hanako fears and is against the things the entity does, that's why he is possessed, to be forced to do what the entity wants.

Amane probably wouldn't kill Kou and Mitsuba if he were fully conscious, at least if it didn't have any direct objective.

For example, if he needed to sacrifice the two for someone he loves, he would do it. He already did. Hanako will always be Hanako, what changes are the circumstances. As much as he is kind, he still has the potential to be someone bad.

Tsukasa hurting Amane is an old theory, because the signs point to it, who would Amane forgive for hurting him like that?

Tsukasa, but Nene too.

Tsukasa can be aggressive and violent with people, but so far he has never been like that with Hanako. That must mean something. I once created a theory about Amane's injuries.

Now about Tsukasa, don't believe that he is a "psychopath".

We now understand how the entity works, in many moments we have clearly seen how the entity also influences Tsukasa's actions, just as Aidairo made it clear how the entity acts.

Amane is a serial killer now, but it is not exactly him. The boy is just a shell that is being controlled by the entity, it is the entity that wants the deaths.

You just said that Tsukasa does not kill humans, how would he be a psychopath if he does not kill humans?

Remember, the entity is still inside him.

Why is Tsukasa, who has always had the entity inside his body, still considered a "psychopath", and when Amane kills MANY people, he is just the boy who is being "controlled?".

Do you see the point here?

They both have this thing in their bodies, and they are both under its influence. Neither Amane nor Tsukasa want to kill anyone, in any reality.

The only psychopath that exists here is the entity.

Don't worry!!!!!!! Thank you!!

[help-itrappedmyself]

Pairing Thing

You guys remember that poll I put up a while ago, to help me pick a pairing to try practice writing romance/flirting. Well, this is that. It did not go where I had planned it too, and I'm not sure if it counts, but take it anyway.

Tim has reached his last nerve with their new hire. Tim surges toward Danny, intent on getting some answers out of him. Danny stumbles back at his approach, but Tim just reaches out, one hand grabbing ahold of Danny’s tie and the other pushing flat against Danny’s chest. In another quick second, Danny finds himself pressed against the wall of the classroom. 

Then, Tim loops the tie fully around his hand, tugging Danny’s face towards him. Danny’s breath hitches and his eyes go out of focus for a moment, lost in the sensation.

This makes Tim falter. The moment causes Tim’s mind to blank, forgetting to speak, and pausing as only one thought crashes circles. The thought circles around a few times before it starts to slip out of Tim’s mouth.

“You…” The word comes out angry, but Tim can’t quite make himself keep going the way he had planned a few moments ago. Tim looks Danny up and down, and Danny can do nothing but flush at the scrutiny, and the inevitable realization Tim comes to. Danny braces himself for the vitriol, but when Tim speaks next it is nothing but a murmur. 

“You like this.” A murmur in a voice that has turned into honey and Danny can do nothing, eyes slipping shut involuntarily.

“Do you not care that it's me that's eliciting this reaction? I thought you didn’t like me.” Tim wonders aloud, and Danny can hear a tone in the voice that threatens to elicit shivers. A tone of sharp curiosity that concerns Danny more than anything. Danny’s eyes flutter back open, locking with Tim’s.

“I don’t like rich people.” Danny mutters. “It’s nothing personal.”

Tim, very slowly, lets the tie slip from his fingers. Danny is tempted to sigh in relief but before the sigh can become reality, Danny feels those fingers slide to his throat. The second they reach the skin there Danny’s breath hitches on a gasp.

A dark smirk graces Tim's face and the grip on Danny’s throat tightens for just a moment, just long enough for Danny’s eyes to flutter. Danny practically whimpers, chin tilting up subconsciously, exposing more throat to Tim.

As the grip loosens again, Tim leans forward to whisper into Danny’s ear. “Tell me, Danny. Would you respond to anyone this way… or is there something about me that encourages this reaction?”

At that, Tim’s arms fall to his sides as he takes a step away. Danny blinks after him, dazed and confused.

After a few moments of nothing but them watching each other, Tim straightens and squares his shoulders. “Are you going to answer the question?”

“Tim.” Danny chokes out, a lump in his throat that was oddly hard to work around, and no true idea what he was going to say next. He took a deep, shuddering breath as he stood straight, no longer leaning on the wall. Trying to buy time, he tried to fix his shirt and tie as best as he could, but after a moment of fumbling with it he gave up. 

Tim was still standing there watching him, face a mask of indifference. 

Danny had the thought that he didn't need to answer Tim. He also didn't need to be here anymore, and so he turned to leave. 

But when he got to the door it wouldn't open. He glanced back at Tim, who didn't seem to have moved, before trying everything he could think of to get the door to unlock. 

After a few moments, Danny sighed deeply, resting his forehead against the door for a count of three before turning back around to face Tim again. 

“What have you done?” He asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

“I locked the door.” Tim responded coolly. “I have full control of this building, you know?”

Tim walked back to his desk and sat down behind it. “ Now, I had some questions for you regarding your purpose in Gotham, why you chose to work with us at Wayne Enterprises, that kind of thing. But I find myself increasingly interested in your answer to my previous question.”

Danny swallows roughly. “Look, you're just going to have me on about it either way, why does it matter?” 

“It matters. Answer the question.” His eyes are hard and unwavering. Danny knows that he won't get out of here until Tim gets what he wants.

“It's because it's you, okay.” Danny spits the words out, hoping if they sound harsh enough, the content would be ignored in favor of the tone. “And I think this may count as some form of sexual harassment.” 

His hopes plummet as Tim starts to smirk.

“Well we could continue this meeting as normal if you would prefer.” Tim opens the folder he had placed on his desk after Danny walked in. “I will never bring it up again if you’d like.”

Danny sighs, then goes over to sit back down in the chair in front of Tim’s desk.

“Can we just continue the meeting?”

“Of course, Danny.” Tim winks.

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

In Love and War (9)

Summary: The completion of the wards falls on an anniversary Warlord!Rhys can't forget.

Content Warnings: Mentions of Death/Infant Loss; Depression; Mentions of Drinking.

Author's Note: Brought the story back just to fill it with angst, I'm so sorry!

Previous Chapter/ Masterlist

---------

Rhys is gone by morning, his side of the mat cold. My head feels like it’s full of cotton; mouth full of sand. My bones ache, most of all my hands, it’s an effort to stretch out my fingers without feeling like my skin might tear right off the bone.

At least I haven’t covered the tent in vines while I slept.

There’s a waterskin and some rations left beside the mat for me, after a couple minutes of trying to rub the stiffness from my fingers, I sit up and scarf it down like I haven’t seen a meal in a week. My stomach certainly rumbles like it. I wonder if an increased appetite is a side effect of expelling so much power?

Once I’m finished, I slip back into my armor, wincing at the smell that clings to the leather. I need a shower, desperately! We’re supposed to be meeting up with Cassian’s group today, hopefully that means we’ll return to the valley soon and I can find some place to get clean. 

By the time I’ve finished with the laces, Azriel’s poking his head in the tent and giving me a five minute warning before camp starts to move. He doesn’t offer up any answers as to where Rhys is before disappearing again.

Hoping the minatiny of this familiar task will help lessen the tension in my muscles, I make quick work of tearing down the tent and getting it all rolled up to leave. My head still feels terribly foggy, but I suppose I could still feel like I was going to tear out of my skin, so I’ll take it as a win. 

Azriel helps me get the supplies mounted onto Rhys’s horse, but the warlord still doesn’t show himself until right before we leave. He wears his cowl again, the stars covering his eyes, the heavy fabric shielding his wings from the cold mountain air. His gloved hands grab my hips and lift me into the saddle and he swings silently into his seat behind me without so much as a hello. 

I try to not let the silence get to me, but worry worms its way into my chest the longer we go without speaking. Had I done something wrong yesterday? Was he irritated with how slow my progress has been? He seemed pleased last night, had I misinterpreted it?

His powers seem… dull today. The starlight not so bright, his shadows sluggish as he stitches the wards back together. His body is heavy against my back, like he’s having a hard time holding himself upright.

“Are you ok?” It takes a couple hours for me to work up the courage to ask.

He nuzzles his cowl covered head against my neck. “I’m all right.”

“You’re quiet today,” I say gently.

“Just a little tired,” he assures.

“Did you not sleep?” I was so exhausted last night I hadn’t been aware enough to see if he’d fallen asleep with me. He’d been so exhausted when we’d made it back to camp I’d just assumed he was out as fast as I was.

“I’ll sleep when this is done,” he replies.

My chest aches at the thought of him being up all night, tying these wards back together after spending all day babysitting me and my errant powers. “You need to rest too.”

He kisses my temple, his lips like ice against my skin. “I’ll be alright.”

A few more minutes of silence stretch out between us, the only sound the horse’s hooves against the rocks and boisterous conversations of the men behind us. They’re in good spirits today, making bets on whether or not we beat Cassian around the mountain. Rhys makes no attempt to join the conversation, his focus still on the wards.

I see no sight of the other group ahead of us, just lots and lots of mountain, and some dark clouds ahead of us. We might meet Cassian as the storm arrives to meet us. I shiver at the thought of what might have happened to me if I was still out alone in that kind of weather. It’s almost cold enough to snow, if I had still been looking for game in that poor excuse for clothes, no real shelter to be had, I’d be dead. It still hits me like a slap to think that Tam left me out here, knowing I could die, knowing I wasn’t prepared to make it on my own.

“How do you feel today?” It’s not the first time I wonder if he can hear my thoughts somehow. He always seems to know when they turn to Tamlin.

“My head feels like it’s full of cotton,” I say truthfully. “But it is better than yesterday.”

He twists to find the waterskin and passes it to me. “It might feel like that for a while.”

I subconsciously bring my fingers up to rub my temples. “Suppose it’s better than clawing at my skin all day.”

“It will help if you keep practicing,” he assures. “The more you get comfortable with it, the less energy you will have to put in expelling it. It will come out naturally and it will hurt less.”

I think the bones in my fingers might snap in half if I keep trying to summon claws after yesterday. 

He stops warding long enough to cup my hands together in my lap. “Just practice making those flowers, like last night. No shapeshifting on Midnight, he doesn’t like having fangs near his neck.”

“Your horse’s name is Midnight?” I can’t help the laugh that slips out of me. Death Incarnate rides a horse that sounds like it got its name from a child! It’s so very un-Warlord like of him that I can’t help but smile.

“He was born at Midnight, so his name is Midnight,” Rhys counters and Midnight huffs in what sounds like agreement.

“Oh of course, I was just expecting something… more intimidating, I guess.”

Midnight shakes his mane in a way that looks to me like I’ve insulted him and I run an apologetic hand over his silk smooth neck. 

“It’s intimidating,” Rhys insists.

“It’s cute,” I amend.

He huffs as he leans his chin down against my shoulder, hand leaving mine to resume his stitching. “I was ten, it sounded cool to a ten year old.”

I try to picture a scruffy haired ten year old Rhys, but come up empty. “Even cuter!”

“Hush, you’ll ruin my reputation,” he warns, nipping playfully at the juncture of my throat and shoulder. 

“Your reputation is safe with me,” I swear.

He chuckles at that, but as my focus shifts to practicing like he suggested, he once again slips back into silence. His shadows drift lazily over my arms and wrists as I practice, as if watching my progress. Sometimes they brush soothingly over my shaking wrists, or rub circles into my palms when the tension becomes too much, but Rhys says nothing for hours.

The storm on the horizon continues to drift closer, the temperature dropping the further into the mountains we go. When I start to shiver, he draws his cloak around the two of us, and tucks himself a little tighter around me to share the blissful warmth of his body heat, but even then he says nothing. 

Worry once again worms its way into my chest. Is he hurt? Did I do something wrong yesterday? Did he somehow figure out what I’d done?

I worry my lower lip between my teeth to avoid him seeing me wringing my hands the longer this drags on. We don’t stop for lunch, only for a brief period to let the horses drink from a small stream, and not even long enough for us to dismount and stretch our legs. It’s a quick drink and then we’re right back to it. The men seem pleased with this, the less stops mean the sooner we reach the rendezvous point and beat Cassian. If any of them think something is amiss with Rhys, they don’t voice it.

It comes to a point that I try to catch Azriel’s eye to see if the other male notices anything off with his warlord, but Rhys keeps us steadily ahead of the others, leading the way into the coming storm. 

The wind beats relentlessly at us now, I have to shield my eyes by tucking my head inside Rhy’s cloak. Still, Rhys doesn’t slow, even if I hear the heavy rasp of his breathing beneath his chestplate the harder he pushes. 

By nightfall, lightning streaks across the sky in angry slashes, thunder echoing off the mountain tops. I can smell the rain on the wind, though trouble finds us first when a lightning strike hits the side of the mountain and a rush of boulders and debris come raining down on our heads. 

Rhys’s magic flares in a protective shield above our heads, sheltering us from the worst of it, and once he’s sure everyone is unscathed, he presses on. 

Still, none of the men protest. Not even when the rain finally comes. It beats down on us like thousands of icy needles, pelting relentlessly against every bit of exposed skin it can find. Rhys’ cloak protects us from the worst of it, but even for all its magic properties, it can’t keep the rain from sliding down into our boots. 

I try not to complain. I’ve been through worse. But my teeth are chattering and I’ve done my best to curl up into his chest to try and preserve any bit of body heat I might have left. “Rhys, are we going to stop soon?”

I’m not sure at first that he can hear me over the rain, but his body shifts, an arm wrapping around my waist and then Midnight is moving faster, uphill. A few minutes later, the rain stops. Well, not stops, I can still hear it, but it no longer beats against us. 

He slides off the horse and I hear the wet thwack of his boots against stone before he hauls me down onto the ground next to him. I don’t know how he’s not shivering, he’s as soaked as I am.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, pressing a damp kiss to my forehead. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

We’re in a large cave carved into the mountain. It’s cold and damp and so dark I can barely see, but it’s not raining on us any longer so I’ll take it. The rest of the men file in behind us, proving the size is bigger than I can make out in the dark. 

“Az, get a fire going,” Rhys orders. 

“This the spot we’re meeting the others?” One of the men asks.

“It’s up the ridge,” Rhys returns as he pulls off his gloves and shoves them in his pocket so he can help rub some warmth back into my fingers. “I’ll finish it in a moment.”

He brings my hands up to his lips and as Azriel gets a fire going with some debris littering the cave, I get the first real look of him all day. “I’m sorry, Darling,” his eyes are rimmed with dark circles and bloodshot, face pale. “I’m sorry.” He keeps repeating it even as he kisses my knuckles, more like he’s talking to himself than me and my chest cracks open a little more.

“It’s ok,” my teeth are still chattering. 

Some of the men find the wood they’ve kept wrapped and dry and get the fire growing, but Rhys pulls me farther into the dark, deft fingers unlacing my chestpiece, the leather sticking to my damp skin. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again and even though he’s still brushing his lips against my forehead while he works, I don’t feel like he’s seeing me at all. He’s far, far away from me, body moving on instinct and I reach out to touch his face.

“Hey, I’m ok,” I promise.

But he won’t stop moving, not until he’s completely stripped me of all my wet clothes and found something dry to slip me into in his pack. They’re all way too big for me, but they're dry and I can’t make any complaints about it. 

“Was distracted,” he mutters to himself, hands pulling my damp hair off my neck and into a swift braid. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m ok, Rhys,” I assure. Some warmth already returning to my stiff limbs.

He still doesn’t hear me as he leads me back over to where a roaring fire now blooms in the heart of the cave. A few of the men stand around it, warming their hands, but the rest remain dutifully near their horses, waiting. 

Rhys throws a blanket around my shoulders as he helps me sit like I’m incapable of doing it on my own. At least all the supplies had been covered in waterproofing before we set out. Nothing has been ruined. Anything too soaked to be of use gets left draped over some rocks near the fire to dry out.

“Better?” His own wet clothes make a puddle around him as he kneels next to me, making sure I’m fully wrapped up in the blanket. 

“Better,” I confirm, and I mean it, the heat is delicious, warming the rock beneath us so that the chill is no longer seeping through my clothes. 

He leans in to kiss me gently on the lips, like I’m made of glass or something. “I’m sorry.”

I try to reach for his hand to assure him that I am fine, but he pulls away before I can. 

“Stay with her while I finish the wards,” he orders Azriel.

I drag my attention away from Rhys to look at the other Illyrian. The orange glow of the fire of the sharp planes of his face make him look like a primordial god. 

“You shouldn’t go alone,” Azriel returns, muscular arms crossed firmly over his chest.

Rhys huffs as he strides past him, “Stay. With. Her.” Then he’s back on his horse and riding back into the rain before anyone else can try and stop him. 

Azriel sends some of the men out with him before settling down next to me on the floor.

I don’t know Azriel well enough to start up a conversation, at least, rationally I know that. That doesn’t stop me from trying anyway. “Is he ok?”

Azriel throws his wet boots to the floor to dry out with a sigh. “Today’s a bad day.” His wings flair out behind him, shaking out water droplets that make the fire hiss and sputter.

I glance at the remaining men, who make themselves comfortable and busy doing anything other than sit near the two of us.  “What’s today?” 

Hazel eyes flick briefly to me, and I get the distinct impression he’s sizing me up, before he goes back to starring in the fire. “Feyre…”

Shit.

“She died five years ago today.”

I glance back towards the mouth of the cave, out into the rain, even though I can’t see him out there in the dark. 

“She…” Azriel throws another log into the fire with the energy of someone who just needs to be doing something with his hands. “She was pregnant. A boy. They’d just found out the gender.”

I don’t know what to say. The beast that lives caged beneath my skin howls and rages against my bones, like it might break free and rip through the pain I feel shred my soul at the realization of how deeply Amarantha had hurt him. My claws tear easily through my nail beds.

“He always gets like this on the anniversary,” Azriel continues. “Usually does some reckless shit and drinks himself half to death.” He too glances out the mouth of the cave. “Give him some space tonight, ok?”

I nod, not trusting my voice to speak. 

“He’ll need you in the morning. It’s usually worse the day after, when he wakes up and realizes…” he trails off.

“When he realizes she’s not coming back,” tears prick the corners of my eyes. How many mornings had I awoken, still anxious that my mother had wandered off while I slept, only to remember she was gone?

“Yeah.”

“Will you check on him, in a bit?” I tuck my head against my knees. 

“No,” Azriel replies. “If I leave you alone tonight…” he lets the words hang there, but I get the point. The look in Rhys’ eyes earlier was clear enough. If he thought for even a second that I was in danger tonight, after what he’d already lost, he might just tear the whole world apart.

I pull the blanket tighter around myself and lean back against a boulder, trying to get comfortable. I’ll just have to wait up for him then. He has to come back eventually, right? He’s not so distracted by the date that he’d stay up in the rain all night, would he?

Azriel brings some food out for me a little while later, and some of the men start playing card games to pass the time. We don’t speak any more after that though, the silence only broken by the pounding of the rain against the mouth of the cave. I barely have the stomach to eat anything, I just keep staring at the entrance, waiting.

Today isn’t the day to ask him why he chose me. Tomorrow won’t be either. That’s ok. For whatever reason, it doesn’t feel like it matters right now. He needs me. I’ll be here. Whatever the reason fate brought us together, whatever either of us intended to do, tonight it’s irrelevant. Tonight I don’t want to think about all the trouble behind me. I just want to be here for him, like he has been for me. 

The hours start to tick by. Some of the men unfurl their sleep mats around the fire and drift off. Azriel sits dutifully beside me, spinning his dagger in his hands, only getting up every now and then to feed the fire. Rhys still doesn’t return. 

My fingers drift absently to my chest, to that spot where I sometimes feel that thing that ties me to Rhys. I don’t know that it’s really a bond, it seems cruel that the Mother would tie me to him when he deserves someone better than me, but tonight I hope that it is something. I push on it, hoping that there’s another end where he can feel me. An end that tells him I’m here if he needs me, if he wants me. I can’t replace her. Or what he’s lost. I won’t even begin to try, but if he wants me, I will be here, waiting.

“You should get some sleep,” Azriel says after a while.

I shift my position to be a little closer to the fire. “No.” I don’t need to explain myself, so I won’t try.

An hour past midnight, horses come into view through the downpour. As I sit up, hopeful that he’s finally back, Cassian dismounts from a horse covered in mud. Mor follows, barely conscious, her rain slicked hair plastered to her face. She yawns as she stumbles over to the fire, and strips right there in front of everyone, her wet clothes hitting the floor with a thwack. 

I don’t miss the way Azriel quickly looks away from her. 

Cassian only chuckles as he throws a fresh pair of clothes at her. 

Once she’s changed and holding her own blanket, she settles down next to me with a grin. “Guess you guys win this time around!”

“Yeah,” the words come out of me absently, my gaze still fixed over her shoulder, trying to see past Cassian and the rest of his men as they file in. 

Azriel stands to help them light a second fire, further blocking my view. 

“He was right behind us,” Mor assures, following my gaze. 

I find myself biting my lower lip again as my gaze jumps from one male to the next. Where is he? He should be back by now! But none of the faces that slowly come into view as Azriel gets the fire going is the one I want to see. 

My lip is bleeding from how much I’ve been biting on it tonight; I move to start biting at my nail instead. He shouldn’t be out there this long! Azriel says he gets reckless, did he do something stupid? What if he’s hurt?

Mor reaches out to grab my wrist and only then do I realize how deeply I’ve been digging my knuckles into the knot that’s been steadily forming in my chest. Her eyes are gentle as she pulls my hand away. “We weren’t followed, he’s fine.”

The beast beneath my skin snaps and growls. He’s not fine! He’s alone out there in the cold and rain, in pain and I can’t shake the feeling that he needs me… but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it.

“He shouldn’t be alone.”

She glances over to Azriel and Cassian before looking back to me. “Trust me, he wants to be. Just give him space.”

The minutes drag on for eternity. Mor lays down next to me and drifts off almost immediately. I’m so restless I’m about to start pacing. I might have actually gotten up and done it if Azriel’s disapproving gaze didn’t land on me the moment I tried to stand back up. Bastard!

It’s probably no time at all before Midnight finally comes riding through the rain into the mouth of the cave, but it feels like eternity, as if I’d been holding my breath the whole night. The knot in my chest loosens as Rhys jumps out of the saddle and finds some scraps of cloth to dry the horse off with. 

His cloak is still drying across the fire, his clothes now sopping wet. Every move he makes leaves a puddle behind him. The strands of his dark hair have slipped free from the knot he’d tied them in, the long locks now clinging to his face. It takes everything in me not to get up and push them out of his way for him. 

He strips down to his boxers quickly, tossing his ruined clothes somewhere behind him carelessly. The glow of the fire makes the circles under his eyes darker as he snags a wineskin from one of the men. 

I watch as Cassian tries to make a joke, but Rhys just huffs at him as he pushes his hair out of his face and takes a long drink from the skin. 

I’ve waited all this time to make sure he’s ok, but now that he’s back I don’t know what to do. Azriel told me to stay away tonight, and by the looks of it, he’s following his own advice as he finally retrieves his mat and lays down near the entrance of the cave. Cassian hovers for a few minutes, trying to make conversation, but Rhys just keeps drinking and ignoring him, his gaze lost in the flames. Eventually he gives up and gets his own mat ready for bed. 

I wait, watching as Rhys finally sits down in front of the other fire, the light glistening off his damp skin. The shadows trace his tattoos like I often find myself wishing to do with my fingers. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how I’m supposed to make this better for him. But when my world fell apart, he’d come and held me, so maybe he needs that too?

I swallow the lump in my throat as I finally stand, dragging the blanket with me. 

For once, Rhys doesn’t seem to notice me, eyes still locked in the flames as he brings the skin to his lips and drinks again and again and again. 

I should be afraid of him. All the males in my life were violent drunks. The scars on my side are a testament to that. Rhys is stronger than all of them, and I have no idea what he’s like drunk. But I only feel trepidation because I don’t want to make his pain worse, not because I think he’ll hurt me. I don’t think he’s capable of that.

I take the blanket off my shoulders and drape it around his, careful of where his damp wings drape across the floor. Only then does he glance up at me, his eyes glassy. Wordlessly, his hand brushes over mine, barely holding on, just enough to give me a little tug, asking me to sit. For a moment, I just sit next to him under the shared blanket, but his skin is so cold! He’s not shaking only because he’s had enough to drink to keep him from noticing.

Damn me, and the stupid thing that lives in my chest that feels like it’s breaking from my inability to fix this. I’d thought what I was feeling might be pity at first, but now… now I can’t help but think I manifested this somehow, when I asked him all those days ago if he would show me how to be a good mate. 

I had spent most of my life wishing this kind of pain on him. I’ve gotten what I wanted and I hate every bit of it. This isn’t what  I want at all!

Slowly, unsure of myself, I twist so I can wrap my arms around his waist. At the very least, my body heat might keep him warm. He stills under my grip, body rigid. Maybe this was the wrong move, maybe Azriel was right and I should have stayed away.

“What are you doing, mate?” He whispers in my ear, voice slurring.

I tuck my head against his bare chest. “Want to hold you.”

“Why?” His hands shake as they trail down my spine. 

“You’re sad.” That’s an understatement, but I don’t know how else to put it. “I’m not very good at this comforting thing, you know? But you’ve held me when I’ve been sad so I thought, maybe, you would want that too.”

He goes quiet for a bit and I think maybe I’ve lost him to the horrors that plague his mind again, but then he tosses the wineskin to the floor and rolls us both onto our sides on the rough stone ground. The stone is uncomfortable without a mat, but he shifts so his arm is beneath my head, and glides my leg up over his hip so we’re chest to chest. I’m not sure how warm he’ll be with the fire at my back, but I hope my body heat will transfer to him well enough. 

“You didn’t have to stay up for me,” he says.

I gently trace my fingers over the swirls of ink on his chest. “I know, but I wanted to. I didn’t want you to be alone.”

He nuzzles his face against mine. “Will you stay with me?”

“For as long as you need,” I assure.

His wing comes up to cover us, but he doesn’t close his eyes, fingers drawing lazy shapes against my back. 

“You should sleep,” I try but he shakes his head.

“Not tonight.”

I wonder if he sees what he’s lost as clearly as I do in my dreams, but it feels like a bad time to ask. No need to further dredge up those awful memories. 

“You said you used to tell your mother stories,” he says, the firelight dancing over his face. “Will you tell me one?”

It is an easy rhythm to fall into, as easy as breathing. The words spill out of me, the tale weaving itself along with the tempo of the crackling wood and the pouring rain around us. I tell story after story about the nymphs and the dryads, in a world long before Hybern and Amarantha, long before war tore our people apart. I talk until the fire starts to die, and the rain becomes a dull thud against the rocks outside; until the words become as heavy as my eyes. He never says anything during my tales, but he never closes his eyes either, hands still wandering absently up my back. The gesture more soothing than he realizes, I don’t think anyone had ever held me like this. My eyes droop despite my best efforts, words starting to slur.

“You should sleep,” he says.

“Don’t want to leave you alone,” I confess, but my eyes are so, so heavy. The strain of the last few days still weighs on me. 

My vision is blurry, sleep pulling on the edge of my consciousness, so it has to be a trick of the light that I see tears in his violet eyes.

He buries his head in the crook of my neck, breath stuttering out of him, and I realize that it’s no trick. Not when I can feel the damp stain across my sleeve. He muffles a sob in my shirt, the dull thundering of the rain enough to cover the rest. My fingers move instinctively into his hair, brushing through the tangled strands., my senses once again alert and awake.

The knot in my chest aches so deeply I think it might keep me awake for days.

“I wasn’t fast enough,” he whimpers. 

Gods, how many times had I whispered that very thing into the dark, rocking myself to sleep, trying to soothe myself with all the possible ways I could have saved my parents, even when I knew it was futile? 

“There was nothing you could have done.” That’s what you’re supposed to say, right? It sounds right. Sounds like what I wanted someone to tell me when I spiraled down into the depths of my depression. 

“It should have been me,” he sobs.

I draw him tighter against me. If I had any way to draw that pain out of his chest and take it into my own I would. I’d do anything, offer any distraction, sacrifice any plan, to take that burden off my mate.

The world feels like it zeroes in to that one, particular point.

My mate.

Of all the godsdamned times for it to click into place, for him to be right, it had to be here, in this damp cave when I have no idea how to make any of this better. I’m out of my element, in more ways than one.

“You…” I’m having a hard time breathing around the knot in my chest--no, the tether in my chest, all jumbled and tangled by all the fucked up stuff between us, but a tether none the less. “You can’t think like that.”

“You don’t understand-” he growls into my throat, but I cut him off, “Yes, I do. I do understand what it feels like to have the people you love ripped from you.”

His body stills under my hands again.

“I understand the emptiness, the loneliness, how… dark and cold and fucking brutal the aftermath is because there is suddenly no one there to tell you that it’s not your fault. There’s no one to assure you that they would want you to live and not carry the weight of it on your shoulders every godsdamned day.”

He slowly tilts his head back to look at me, his face tear streaked. I move my hand out of his hair to brush some of it off his cheek. “No one can replace what you lost.”

Slowly, he leans his head into my touch. “And I’m so sorry that you’ve lost so much.”

It’s unfair that one person should have to lose so many of the people that he loves; looking at him, I can’t believe how close I was to bringing even more pain into his life. If I had succeeded… gods I would have been worse than my father!

“But I have to believe that you are still here for a reason.” He should get to have a life! Whatever that costs me, he’s more than earned it. “Even if you haven’t found that reason yet.”

Rhys leans back down against my shoulder with a sigh that makes his wings shake. “It’s so heavy,” he whispers.

My hands go back to his hair, working through the knots the rain has created. “Show me how to help you carry it?”

His wing comes back over me again, his weight now fully on me. Somehow, it feels like that helps the tether linking us together settle. The ache… soothed, just a bit. I drift my hands from his hair down his back, careful to avoid his wings, soothing over hard muscle, until his breathing stops feeling so shaky. 

“Distract me,” he whispers.

“Whatever you need, Rhys, I’m here,” and I mean it.

“Tell me another story?”

“As many as you like,” I promise. It’s the least I can do, for my mate. I shove all the fear and uncertainty the word brings to mind into a quaint little box in the back of my mind; bury it under layers of emotional damage I’ve never dealt with and refuse to let my thoughts run away with me. I will figure it out tomorrow. I will find a way to make sure I don’t become another scar on his heart. He can’t ever know what I planned to do… it would ruin him.

And I wouldn’t survive it.

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Thank you all for your patience! <3 I'm trying to get back on schedule with this!

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Yes This Fear's Got A Hold On Me

Zayne x gn!Reader

Literally drabbled this out earlier while cooking dinner bc it hit me so hard. I think I'm just in the mood for putting Zayne through angst rn

Title from "Death" by White Lies

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fear of death, overthinking, domestic moments, established relationship, rain/storms, recklessness, self-sacrificing behavior, cooking/food

Word Count: 1,767

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

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“I can’t answer the phone right now, I’m too busy kicking Wanderer butt! Leave a message and-”

Zayne sighs and hits the end call button again. Every call goes straight to voicemail. He can’t help but be worried.

The rain is coming down in torrents outside. It hits the windows like angry fists. The wind howls like wolves in the night. The streets are flooded, but even if they weren’t you took your bike into work today and all public transport is closed. He called your coworkers earlier, just on the off chance you actually listened to the shelter in place warnings, but they said you’d left an hour ago.

His pacing is going to eat through to the apartment below if you don’t turn up soon. He tries calling one last time. Not two words into the automated message, he’s ending the call and shoving his phone in his pocket.

He shrugs on his coat, prepared to make the last ditch effort of going out there to find you himself when there’s a knock on the door. One sleeve hangs half off his shoulder as he swings it open. His heart is caught in his throat.

You force a smile through chattering teeth. A puddle forms under your feet on the welcome mat, with smaller puddles trailing down the hall from the elevator. “My hands are too pruny,” you manage, gesturing with a nod at the door handle and its biometric lock.

He doesn’t quite register your words, pulling you inside hurriedly. Your shoulders are soaked with water where he touches them. Your whole body is soaked with water. He helps you take off your coat. It drops to the floor in a wet heap to be dealt with later. “Did you walk all the way here?” he asks. He already knows the answer.

You nod. You tuck your hands in your armpits, desperate to contain what little warmth you have left as he helps tug off your shoes. Your socks are soggy and uncomfortable. A forceful chill wracks your entire body, before settling back into the consistent, exhausting chills they were before. “I was gonna call, but my phone died.”

Well, that explains his last 20 minutes of frustration. “I’ll scold you after you get warmed up.”

“‘Preciate it.”

He shakes his head as he takes his coat off to wrap it around your shoulders. It’s ever so slightly warm from the short amount of time he had it on, enough to provide a smidge of relief.

Your steps slap against the hardwood as you’re led across the floor he was pacing only minutes ago. He leads you straight to the bathroom and abandons you by the sink to start running the water for a shower. You whine at the sight of even more water.

“Aren’t I wet enough?” You know it’s for the best, but you feel oddly reminiscent of a cat being forced to take a bath.

Zayne doesn’t dignify your complaint with more than a stern look. As the water runs, steam starting to billow up overtop the glass doors, he returns to you and steals the dry outer layer you’d only just gotten. You whine again, unbidden. He has the decency to look a little sorry as he continues to strip you down. “You’ll be warm soon. While you heat up, I’ll make you dinner.”

You shiver. Goosebumps raise up all over your body, exposed to the unforgiving air. You rub your arms. “You don’t have to.”

“It’s for my own sanity, if you must know.”

On any normal day, Zayne’s hands usually ran pretty cold. You liked to joke that it was because he’s a doctor, and all doctors seem to have cold hands all the time. Right now, they feel so warm against your skin as he helps you into the shower, under the blessedly hot water. He doesn’t pay attention to the water that gets on his sleeves as you cling to him. You think you see a hint of a smile before you close your eyes and put your face right under the spray, shuddering with the temperature shock.

“Take your time. I’ll leave some clothes out for you.” He shuts the glass door and gets to work gathering the soaking wet clothes left behind. If you didn’t get sick after this, he’d have to write it up in a medical journal as an unexplained phenomena.

“Thank you~” you call out.

He shakes his head, though you can’t see it. You really drive him up the wall, sometimes. Walking for an hour through a monsoon for no justifiable reason is up there in the most stress-inducing things you’ve done on the ever-growing list he has. And yet, here you are, thanking him as he takes care of you, fighting against the possibility of a cold that hangs overhead like an undeniable certainty. God, he loves you so.

He closes the bathroom door behind him and beelines for the laundry room. All your clothes go into the wash. Your coat gets hung up to air dry. He stuffs your shoes with newspaper to draw the water out. Then, to the bedroom, where he pulls out some fresh, dry clothes for you to change into. He sets them on the bathroom counter, listening as you quietly hum to yourself. At last, he gets to work preparing your favorite hot drink as he works on making a batch of soup.

All the while, his body readjusts to the fact that you’re okay. He hones in on your humming while he chops up vegetables, willing himself to relax and release all the thoughts that had plagued him before - terrible images, all made worse with his own medical knowledge putting names to all the conditions and effects that could have destroyed you. The rain knocks on the kitchen window as a cruel reminder of what could have been.

But none of it happened. You’re here. You’re only a couple rooms over, taking a shower. You’re here. You’re going to drink from your special mug and sigh with the first bite of your soup. You’re here. You’re going to be safe in his arms tonight, fast asleep, not face-down under the harsh flood-

The image of your bloated body, drowned and lifeless, jolts through his system like an ice bath.

You’re here. You’re here. You’re here.

He stirs the soup around the pot.

The water of the shower shuts off when it’s just about done. He pulls down two bowls from the overhead cabinet and ladels some into both. Though he doesn’t really have an appetite, he knows he should eat something. Maybe the normalcy of a quiet night in will bring it back. For now, he puts more of the savory concoction in your bowl than in his.

Your socked feet don’t make much sound as you shuffle through the apartment to the kitchen. The sleeves of one of his many cardigans is bunched up at your elbows, as they’re far too long on you otherwise. The sight of you in his clothes - something he didn’t lay out for you to change into, nonetheless - only makes the fear in his chest ache even more.

You smile at him, apologetic and grateful all at once. “I’m ready for your lecture now,” you say. He can see the way you seem to brace for it. The way you avoid looking him directly in the eye, like a child who knows they’ve done something bad and is about to be grounded for it. The way you pick at the threads of the cardigan, restless and anxious. The way your shoulders bunch up toward your ears without you even realizing, preparing for the blow of his scolding.

It’s all too much.

You look up at him with wide-eyed confusion as he crosses the short distance between you and wraps you up in a tight hug. His face is pressed securely into the crook of your neck. His hands rest on your back, drawing you close to his body. The warm air of his sigh graces your skin when you hug him back.

“Zayne?” You gently pet his hair. He doesn’t let you pull back to see his face.

In all your time with him, he’s never hugged you like this before. You can feel the way his fingers curl around the knit of his cardigan, the slight shudder in his breath, the tension in his muscles.

“Please,” he whispers - begs, “don’t do that again.”

Slowly, as the realization begins to sink in, you squeeze him tighter.

It’s easy to throw yourself into danger - you do it every single day at work. If you get hurt, you’re saving someone else the pain. If you get a scratch, a civilian doesn’t. If you break a leg, someone else gets the chance to run away. It’s a commendable trait for a Hunter.

You didn’t realize how painful that would be for someone else.

“I thought… I thought getting back home would… I didn’t want you to be alone.” The explanations all feel hollow, for how true they are.

“What if you didn’t make it?” he questions. His voice is tight with emotion. It’s locked away under a layer of severity. “Nobody had any idea where you were. All I knew was that you weren’t at work. If the storm overpowered you, we wouldn’t know. I wouldn’t know.” He holds you tighter. “I’d rather spend one night alone than the rest of my nights alone. Do you understand?”

You nod immediately. “I’m sorry.”

He exhales shakily. “Please, think of your own safety first. Just once.” His fingers slowly release their hold on you. His shoulders fall as he reluctantly lets you go. His eyes stare into yours like a turbulent forest, trees kicked all around by hurricane winds. “Are you still cold?” he changes the subject. You let him.

“A little.”

He takes your hand and leads you to the counter with the bowls of soup and your favorite mug. “We can eat this on the couch. By sitting together, we can conserve our warmth.”

You tug on his shoulder lightly. He leans down without restraint, watching you. You kiss his cheek. “I love you,” you remind him, feeling as though you need to after the hell you must have put him through.

He closes his eyes for a second, taking in those wonderful words. When he opens them again, the hurricane has been reduced to nothing more than a light breeze. He looks at you with all the love of winter giving way to spring. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc

[dseval]

What are your thoughts of CrossDust? What dynamic you think they have?

Permission to yap about CrossDust??

Short answer: funny i like both of them they should kiss

...Long yapping ahead (there's yapping about my Murder Sans interpretation, then there's also CrossDust. It's long.)

I'd like to first clarify that my interpretation of Dust may be different compared to many (I think, at least). Since I base his character on the canon information from Ask-Dusttale and fangames— particularly Evan Streblow's Dusttale (if you don't know, it's the one with the psychotic HAHAHAHAHAHAHA and "We're gonna have a MAD time!")

I also slot in some headcanons (and self-projections, can't help it) and some character adjustments because I think canon Murder is extremely difficult to work with, especially in the context of shipping and anything else this fandom does with him in general.

But just the gist of it so you all don't have to read that much (I can go on for ten more paragraphs. I'm obsessed with this guy):

I'll use the names Murder and Dust interchangeably and within different contexts. I like to think Murder is a front that Dust puts on— an apathetic murderer who finds emotions difficult to feel, someone who always lies to get his way, a sociopath. While Dust is quiet, honest, and more contemplative. It's mostly Murder who interacts with others.

Murder and Dust aren't necessarily two different people. Ultimately, Dust directly influences Murder's choices, and Murder may disappear one day once Dust feels content.

His hallucinations aren't only Papyrus, he also hallucinates about others although Papyrus is the most often. And these hallucinations speak different things according to the state he's in. Murder's hallucinations would encourage him to hurt more. While Dust's would induce guilt.

Murder is a very focused person, not afraid to take the lead, and he hates it when nothing happens. Dust on the other hand is content just doing nothing.

Murder finds love absurd. Dust too, but he entertains the thought of it.

Murder and Dust both think words are silly, insincere, and can change meanings, so they are more action-oriented.

He's demisexual. That's a headcanon.

And if anyone has any different interpretation of Murder/Dust Sans, that is absolutely okay and amazing. Dusttale is a very hard AU to actually get into (all the informations are scattered). Plus, there is nothing wrong with fanon. I think it's great, I like fanon. I sometimes like fanon more than canon.

Now CrossDust.

For their general dynamic, I think it's very difficult for them to get together. They just go back and forth between something and nothing. They have like... The slowest of slow burns.

I'd like to implement the entire Underverse thing. Remember how Cross stole Classic's soul? Apparently, Sanses across different alternate timelines can share a memory. So Geno knows Cross stole 'his' soul. Killer also acknowledges this and says to XChara that they stole 'his' soul.

So technically to Murder/Dust— Cross also had stolen 'his' soul (And Murder would've had felt all Cross's pain while at it, too). I think Murder would find it hilarious that Cross brought literally every single innocent AU into his problem. Dust would feel like Cross's plans are ridiculous, but since it's XChara's plan, and XChara is the human, Dust wouldn't even question it.

In a way, they share SOULs once, even if indirectly. Murder/Dust knows probably a lot about Cross. But Cross didn't know who the hell this guy is. Either way, with that in mind. Murder probably didn't have a good first impression of Cross. Dust might empathize with him, since Cross also committed a genocide in order to 'make things better' which is also Dust's reasoning. Cross might learn about Murder's actions later— but cannot judge Murder/Dust for it.

They are very similar. Kindred souls in a way. They went through similar struggles but they turned out to be completely different people. Because Cross in his entire life is under control, while Murder acts on choice. Because Cross knows what he did is horrible and he'll carry that sin to the grave, while Murder justifies his actions.

Cross is too trusting (he doesn't trust easily now), too seeking for approval, he doesn't know what to do if no one orders him. Murder thinks he himself is enough, Murder thinks he is the hero, he doesn't need anyone else.

Cross thinks Murder is a bad person, an absolute jerk. Murder likes to toy with him, probably also uses Cross to his advantage. Murder can either try to hurt Cross, or will try to win his favour. But can Cross judge him? Not really, hell, I don't think Cross even noticed if Murder did manipulate him. Low-key toxic these two.

But then there's the private moments, the intimate moments where Dust shed the front that is Murder. Where Dust is sincere; he doesn't talk, but the way he gazes and acts towards Cross is honest. And although reluctant, maybe Cross desires to bring that side out of him more.

It's both difficult for them to trust. But eventually Dust will learn that Cross cannot lie— Dust will trust words again. Eventually Cross realizes that he's not the only one hurt, and he can find a home in others, he can choose to find a home.

Cross will find it frustrating how Dust shuts himself down. Dust would find it frustrating how hard Cross tries for him. But eventually, Dust would learn to no longer front himself up with Murder. Cross would need a signal from Dust that what he's doing is okay and perfect before they can advance further.

They'll care about one another.

Eventually, they'll trust each other.

In a relationship sense where they're both happy and recovered, though. I think both of them like cuddling. Dust still had a hard time with words, but he knows how much it means for Cross to have words of affirmations, so he would praise Cross a lot. Cross knows Dust is as restless as he is, so he makes sure they both have a full schedule with a lot of things to do.

All in all, they're comfortable with each other. And that's enough, really.

(i almost yapped for ten more paragraphs but I think this is enough for now sksksksk)

Dust Sans by Ask-Dusttale

Cross Sans, Underverse, & XTale by Jakei

Mentioned characters: Killer Sans (by Rahafwabas), Geno (by loverofpiggies/CrayonQueen)

[kill4luvina]

This Action Will have Concquences

Part 2

Summary: You've been embarrassed ever since the incident with your boyfriend in the parking lot. He's been on you, not letting you even text or go out with any of your friends. While sneaking out to a club with your homegirls while he was away on a short business trip, you bump into Gojo, who takes you home and swears he won't let you go.

Content MDNI : Unprotected Sex, Cheating, Going to the Club, lowk some ghetto shi...and more. Also not proofread (the smut part mostly & i lowk rushed im srry yall :(.

tags ; @baddiereads

"Said you got a boyfriendFuck that gotta do with me? I know you wanna come slide through We finna fuck and then smoke on these trees"

Ever since that night, Gojo found himself thinking about you none stop. When he'd wake up, he'd have flash backs to that night. When he'd go to sleep the he couldn't help but picture your face and how pretty you looked drowned in pleasure.

He had tried to text you, call you, even ask others about you, but nothing. Confused and weary, he tried to ignore it for a few weeks, depression swallowing him whole. He had tried speed dating to get the idea of you out of his head, but nothing worked. His friends worried and forced him to go out one night.

You, on the other hand, had no access to your phone. That night, Toji took your phone, noticing how upset you had gotten with him, which made him believe you cared more about that man than him. While he wasn't right, he wasn't completely wrong.

You'd stare at the phone he had gave you in replacement of yours. The only number there being his, and your best friend whose number was hidden from him.

Luvina : We're going to the club today, i'll pick you up at 9..

You : wait, wait, i know he's on a trip but what he comes early? or i get caught up-

Luvina : You haven't left the house in almost a month you need to see people and have fun. be ready

You : ok

Your eyes would water a little; she was right, and you’d been having mixed emotions about him. You didn’t want to be with Toji anymore, but he treated you so well in a terrible, twisted way. Your head was spinning with thoughts as you looked at the time.

5 p.m. You quickly put your head back on the pillow, falling asleep to clear your mind. You’d wake up again around 7 before dragging your tired body to the bathroom. "Alexa, play 'Sumin' by Sexy Red,," you’d say as you got into the shower, the warm water waking you up.

"Playing 'Pound Town' by Sexyyred," Alexa would reply as the beat slowly started to get you out of your depressed state. Mid shower you'd catch yourself shaking a little ass, laughing as the excitement started to catch up to you.

"I'm F R E E Fuck Nigga Free!" You'd chant with the music playing in the back as you did your makeup in the mirror, dancing to the music. The music would dim down, and "Incoming FaceTime from Luvi" would be announced by Alexa.

You'd quickly answer your phone as Luvi started screaming in excitement, seeing how pretty you looked. You'd place your phone down in your PJ pants and cropped top, twerking a little as she hyped you up.

"Oohhh, whats the outfit idea?" She'd ask, you'd shrug as you fixed your lash extensions. "Alright, I'ma be there in like 45 mintues tho, i'm picking up Mimi n Juju." She'd say before you nodded and she hung up. You'd walk into your room before almost destroying your room looking for your best outfit.

"Incoming call from Toji." You'd heart would drop as you quickly turned off your phone. You'd quickly answer, putting on the fakest sleepy voice ever. "mmh?' you'd answer "oh, was you sleeping?" he'd ask.

"mhmm" "alright, i'll call your tomorrow morning, sleep well mamas." he'd hang up before you could say anything making you jump up and down in excitement quickly putting your phone on DND. You'd soon find yourself dress in a skimpy pair of jean shorts you had.

Ass completely out, and a tight-ass black crop top that barely held your tits from the bottom. The Cleavage from the top still showing, your nipple piercing wanting to be seen. You'd giggle at the thought of your man completely crashing out at the sight of you in an outfit like this.

You'd accessorize, wearing your favorite DollsDream bracelets along with one of your mans most expensive watches dripped in diamonds with a black face, and your custom-made Cuban link chain with your name on it.

The doorbell rang as you quickly ran to the door, your three homegirls screaming and hyping you up in excitement as they came inside. You'd run up to your room, quickly grabbing your black Rick Owens sneakers. Coming back down the stairs the moment they were completely on, your eyes lit up in excitement.

The bottles of Don Julio, Hennessy, Absolut Peach, and the carts had you jumping around in excitement. It had been almost a year since you had last been to an actual club, and you were going to turn up because it could be your last. Already knowing he would see you through the cameras later if he ever had suspicions.

In the car, you and your friends in the back seat of the Uber were turning the fuck up, Mimi shaking ass to the music as you all laughed, the alcohol already starting to take effect.

By the time you all were there, you were the only one out of the three of your friends who was only tipsy; they were about drunk as hell. You'd all enter the club cutting the line because Juju's man was the owner's close friend.

Around two hours into the party, you found only you and Luvina together on the dance floor dancing. Juju was with her man, and Mimi was flirting with a guy. "Y/n?" You'd hear a familiar voice, making you freeze up, going from grinding up against Luvi to now turning to find where the voice came from.

"Gojo?" You'd gasp, memories and embarrassment flooding you immediately. "AAA!" Luvina would scream, now on the floor laughing, drunk as hell. You'd be startled, looking down quickly and getting your friend up from the floor. "Y'all need a ride home?" He'd ask as he watched your friend's actions with a concerned manner.

"That would actually be wonderful," you'd smile, trying to ignore your friend, who was acting out for a guy who was staring at her from across the club. Obviously hinting it was time for her to be tucked into bed.

After dropping her off, you and Gojo silently sat in the car outside her house. "Gojo- about what happened-" you'd start as he looked over, intrigued by what you were about to say. "I—" you were at a loss for words.

"I want you right now." You truly meant it, but it was the alcohol giving you the courage to say it. "Right now?" he'd ask, confused and caught off guard. You didn't even realize when but you were now making out with him. A Sloppy and messy make-out session lasting for a hot minute as you slipped your hands into his pants.

You'd quickly remember you had a man, making you pull away quickly, guilt filling you as Gojo almost whined at you pulling away. "We can't do this I got a whole nigga omg.." you'd start to panic as gojo looked over at you.

"bro, fuck that gotta do with me & what we got going on right now?" he'd say starting his car as he'd start to drive, he only lived a few mintues away, your eyes looking anywhere but at him. The moment he parked in his driveway, he was all over you, bringing you the straddle his hips in the driver's seat.

You'd let yourself fall victim to all your sober thoughts becoming drunk actions. Slopply moaning and making out with him, the warm night air hitting your the moment he opened the door carrying you to the door.

"F-FUCK!!" you'd scream, as your hands flung to gojo's hair. Eye's rolling back as he devoured your pussy, on your 3rd orgasm as he ignored the aching of his dick tending to you. Completely ignoring his needs.

"Never gonna let you go." He'd repeat for almost the 100th time since he has gotten his hands on you. Bringing his head up to give you another sloppy kiss as he pushed his mouth agasint your wet and messy cunt.

Moaning into the kiss as you felt him enter, your eyes rolling back as you felt him start to slowly thrust into you. Your left leg resting on his shoulder as he held the other. "so- good!" you'd cry out as his fat dick stretching you out perfectly, even better then your boyfriends.

You'd rememeber about him for a second, until gojo started pounding into you. Your mind completely going blank as you moaned and creamed all over his dick. Your boobs bouncing as he pounded even deeper into you. Your back would arch as you felt the build up break, as you came all over his dick.

Squirting from this being your 4th orgasm of the night, your eyes watering at the overstimlation. Your hand weaking trying to push him away, as he moved it kissing your hand before going right back to ramming your shit.

"C-cumming!!" You'd scream, your 5th orgasm having you seeing stars, as he slopply started to slow down before busting a fat nut right in your pussy. The cum mixing with your fluids as he pulled out, watching it lowly drip out your wrecked cunt.

"too- good-" you'd say in between heavy breaths your legs shaking, gojo smiling at the praise. "Better than that other guy right?" he'd asked "yeahh-" you'd babble half asleep as he held your neck giving you a kiss before you were completely knocked out on his bed.

You'd deal with everything tomorrow morning, knowing that not being home by now was already terrible. Oh well.

(idk if yall fw this igu with a part 3 if yall ask in the comments)

"You and your nigga really ain't a fit Forgetting about him when I'm in the mix Shawty be bussin' when I'm on her clit"

[jessilynallendilla]

DPXDC SHIPS FIC REC

TITLE/LINK RATING COMPLETED-WORD-COUNT SERIES

DP FIC REC HOME POST

let me know if the links aren't working and feel free to suggest any

JASONxJAZZ 

Friendly Neighborhood Vigilante  T 

Meet Jasmine Fenton: Smart, resourceful, kind and the very proud sister of Amity Park's own undead superhero Danny Phantom. Therapist at your service. Intern at Arkham Asylum. Can kick your ass. Likes tea and long walks at the beach. Meet Jason Todd: Smart, resourceful, not-that-kind (if you say he's soft you may get knifed) and the very proud vigilante and protector of Crime Alley. Died for a while but got better. Holds grudges. Likes reading a nice book and the sound of the rain against the window. They are neighbors now. 

Batman, Meet Team Phantom  NR 118,359 SERIES 

Jason leaves Amity Park for Gotham, but an emergency call changes everything. The Fentons have discovered Danny's secret, and things are going horribly wrong. While Jazz, Sam, and Tucker save Danny from Jack and Maddie, the group is now on the run. Jason and his family pull all of their resources together to make things right. 

Present, Future, Past  T 

After a fight gone sideways, Bruce finds himself in the future, one that's a lot brighter than Bruce could have ever hoped for. And yet, there are still some shadows Bruce must overcome. But perhaps the insight of the future can help Bruce do just that. 

Can't Help Falling In Love (With You)  T SERIES 

When a ghost does shenanigans, Jazz usually stays out of the trouble, since trouble is her brother's thing. This time? This time trouble found her in the form of a ghost that marries her to the Red Hood against her will. 

When The Side Quest Gets Real  T SERIES 

Jason gets confused for one Jack Fenton by one exasperated teacher, who immediately tells him off for not answering the school's calls-Right in front of Tim and Dick. 

Shovel Talk?  T 3,464 

Things were finally running smoothly for The Batfamily, then Jason decided to throw a wrench into it. That wrench was named Jasmine Fenton. Now the whole family have to prepare for a shovel talk. 

Deal  T 3,884 ESRIES 

One day, a woman hires Jason to kill an unusual amount of people. The more he looks at the case, the more he is convinced he has to accept. 

There's Something Wrong With The Nightingale Siblings  G SERIES 

A reveal gone wrong, a drive to Gotham and a sister made of shadows. Danny didn't know this is what he was signing up for when taking the crown, but naming his sister queen regent was better than the alternative. He'll just have to see what kind of trouble Danny and Jasmine Nightingale can get up to in Gotham. 

Gotham's Favourite  T 1,315 

Jason has heard the rumours going around Crime Alley, about the Saint of the Dead. He didn’t believe them, at first, of course. How could he? When they spoke of an ethereal being that appeared amongst the living and brought them in contact with their dearest departed? Brought them closure? 

Drunk Summonings  T 1,577 SERIES 

Jason is dared to summon the ghost king. Only instead of getting the ghost king, he gets the queen regent. 

Core Skills  T SERIES 

Jason doesn't want to disappoint his family (or worst, be called out by his brothers). Jazz tries to get custody of Danny. I wonder where it all could go. 

Why Not?  T 5,263 

Jazz goes to Gotham Public Library to get out of the house. Jason has a rare day off. 

I'm Picking You Up  T 2,939 

Jason Todd has been secretly dating an amazing woman named Jazz Fenton, but hasn't told her about his vigilante/crime lord life. When he's captured by the Riddler on a day when the rest of his family is unavailable, he discovers that his girlfriend is more than meets the eye. Maybe he should have asked a few more questions... 

The Wonderous Beauty Of The Statuesque Scarlet  T 9,773 

Jazz knew she was tall. It wasn't like it affected her life or anything (sarcasm). It wasn't like she didn't end dates early because the dude asked her if it was really necessary for her to wear heels. Yes, she was tall. And strong. On top of that, she had duties as Ghost Princess, so finding a partner was not easy for her. 

The Night Will Come But Not To Stay  T 

Jazz is excited about going to Gotham University for college. It's halfway across the country from Amity Park and anyone who knows about her weird family or ghost nonsense. Finally, she can pretend to be a normal woman who just wants to go into psychiatry. She meets a cute guy named Jason, and they seem to be getting along great. Jason finally decided to put aside his vigilante work long enough to get a degree. He's learning how to be a normal person again, with a family that cares for him. He's even made a few civilian friends, including a cute girl named Jazz. Surely, nothing could come up that would reveal their other lives to each other. 

Cujo And The Ghastly Gotham Grabber  G 9,520 

When Joker grabbed Damian, Cujo said “not on my watch mister!” and proceeded to tear the clown to shreds. Then Cujo takes his new friend to Danny to make sure he’s okay. He is delighted when he makes even more friends when Damian’s brothers come looking for him. 

Talks At The Fenton Bar And Brunch And Mount Justice  G 8,299 SERIES 

The Fentons talk, meanwhile a six (and a half!) year old halfa does what every nosy child does and listens in only stopping when the ghost of time drops in for fudge. Meanwhile, Tim is wondering what the exact relationship the Fentons have with the Infinte Realms is that the Young Justice's newest member wants to look into Jason's background. 

You Look Like You’ve Seen A Ghost  T 37,602 SERIES 

Jason and Danny became friends in the Ghost Zone. This is about to be everyone’s problem. Batman just wants to know who this illusive teenager is. Because he’s a meta. Obviously. Not for adoption reasons. No siree, not him. 

Somehow Whatever's Eternal In Me Knows Whatever's Eternal In You  M 

Everyone knows the story of Jason Todd’s resurrection. He dies, he gets resurrected half a year later, he crawls out, goes to the hospital for another half year, and then gets taken by Talia to the League before he finally comes back to Gotham 3 years later. But what if that didn’t happen? When an additional force comes to Gotham with the intentions to take over, she finds Jason Todd lying on the ground and then decides to take him with her. Everything in Gotham changes. 

Wrong Exit  T SERIES 

Danny comes into the story too early and makes it everyone else's problem. 

Is Batman A Ghost?  T 

The Fentons learn about the Bats in Gotham. Thanks to the portal to the Ghost zone breaking and the ambient ectoplasm in Gotham, Fentonworks sets up shop in crime city. Shenanigans ensue 

Turning Shadows Into Shapes  T 

When the GIW gets too close to finding out who phantom is, Jazz takes custody of her adopted brother and moves out to Gotham. Danny is enrolled in West Reeve and Jazz goes to Gotham U, and finds a job at Arkham. Everything was going fine, for the first couple hours. The more Jazz and Danny try to avoid the Bats, the more they seem to meet, and Danny and Jazz figure that this can only lead to conflict. 

Won't You Be My Neighbor?  M 

Jazz is excited to start a new job in a city that has never heard of the Fenton’s. So what if they have raving psychopaths and people dressing up in tights to fight them, at least she doesn’t have to deal with ghosts. But, why did her new neighbor trigger her brother’s ghost sense? And why does she feel like she’s falling for the mysterious vigilante that crashed through her window one night? 

Blood On The Crown  M SERIES 

She leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his brow, a covenant between them, a secret promise that she would tear the world asunder if it meant keeping him safe. 

Premeditation  T 17,192 SERIES 

The problem is that so few people are even able to see what the problem really is. The problem is that things that manage to find the balance on the knife’s edge of life are so, so hard to kill. The problem, Jasmine Fenton realizes, two weeks after she moves into Gotham, is one that almost no one, in any dimension or realm, is able to solve. The problem is simply put, though, even if it’s almost impossible. The problem is this: The Joker is a Halfa. 

Custody Battle  G 1,274 SERIES 

"Touch starved Danny gets cuddles from tallmom!Jazz and tankdad!Jason after a long and hard custody battle against the neglectful Fenton parents. " 

If You Find A Vigilante In The Dumpster  M SERIES 

The plan was simple, Jazz and her now de aged brother would go lay low in Gotham, act as a mother-son duo. Wait as Danny heals up by absorbing the ambient ectoplasm leaking from the city and Vlad gives the green light that he has a safe place they could stay. Plus with the blessing from the Ghost of Gotham and knowing that even the GIW wouldn't dare to encroach on Batman's territory, it was a pretty safe plan. That was until a certain vigilante just keeps on finding himself in their dumpster. 

Crying Is Okay  T SERIES 

I will change the summary when I get a better idea I am winging this, but so far it's about what happens if Danny goes to University in Gotham and gets a job at Arkham. 

Rifts  T 

As a general rule, just when you thought it couldn't get worse it suddenly did. This is something the Fenton siblings knew from experience. The thing is, normally her brother is the one who puts them on the spot. This isn’t one of those times, and Jazz just knows that she will never get Danny to shut up about it. ...If they ever get to see each other again, of course. 

There Will Come A Soldier  T 9,644 

Jason jumps to defend a woman getting mugged but she uh...doesn't need the help. She appreciates the heart-eyes he shoots her, though. 

The Business Of Family  T 

Things are not well in Amity Park. With the GIW getting more and more aggressive and their parents becoming ever more suspicious of Danny each day that passes, Jazz knows that they're running out of time. It's not safe, and their options are painfully limited. Out of sheer dumb luck or a little intervention from Clockwork, she manages to discover a distant relative that just might be their salvation. If asked Oswald Cobblepot would say that it's just good business. Adopting a few kids had done wonders for Bruce Wayne's reputation, why not his? It's not like he can't afford to put them somewhere out of the way if they get to be a problem. It's just business. Nothing more. 

Advent Reunion  G 4,765 SERIES 

Danny was gone. The GIW had wrecked his core and Jazz was left grieving with her family and friends, all devastated. They hunted the monsters that destroyed her brother, hunted them all the way to the Himalayas and destroyed the Guys in White but Jazz felt like it was a hollowed out victory. Grieving and anguished she stole Vlad's booze and wander off, runs into a guy hiding a body and deciding to spend a weekend running amok with "Jason" (a nice jerk that left without even saying goodbye and who she really should not have developed feelings for). Then she discovered she was pregnant, and Clockwork told her he had placed Danny's ruined core in her so he could be reborn. Skip nearly seven years later and Jazz is the mother of a rambunctious six (and a half!) year old boy who is the reincarnate of her brother and she just moved to Gotham with her family to go to school. Jason meanwhile runs into a kid that tries to steal his wheel and pay for it with coco, a duck candle and a literal piggy bank... and then reunites with a blast from his past... and she has a tinier version of him attached to her hip. 

DANNYxTIM 

The Blob  T 

Tim sees a floating green blob and believes it is a delusion, but it is actually a ghost, one of the victims of the murderer he caught. The blob ghost latched on to him and refuses to leave. As Tim finally admits to himself that it's real, more blob ghosts attach themselves to Tim, hoping he will catch their murderer too. Finally, his family notices that something is amiss with him and attempts to figure out what is wrong. Meanwhile, Danny in the Ghost Zone hears that there is a human, in the living realm, that the blob ghost can't stop praising. 

Social Media + Insomnia = Epic Fails (Not Clickbait!)  T 8,216 SERIES 

Yes I Sleep @TimDrake_Wayne Fellas… is it gay if he’s dead? Otherwise known as: Tim makes an Oopsie 

Hold The Stars Close (Like You Were Holding My Hand)  NR 

Daniel Fenton had to run, Amity wasn't safe for him anymore, he couldn't stay, so he left. By no means did it mean that he understood how he ended up in a crime filled city with a baby to care for, and another teen vigilante for a co-parent. Maybe it would get better. 

You Can't Teach An Old God New Tricks  M 

Danny didn’t have a lot to his name. He arrived in Gotham 2 years ago lost and confused. He knew he was a king. He knew he was a halfa, and he knew that he ruled all of the infinite realms. But the harsh realities of Gotham also kept him on his toes as he tries to ignore his past. Nothing from before the age of 14 but electricity down his spine, A sister whom he loved, and an apparent complaint of his newfound lack of Empathy because of it. Danny had avoided the infamous Bats for too long but as the ghosts start to delve into the world once more moaning for the Phantom, and a family edging on being a gang. He finds himself far too close to the vigillante’s and Batman than he really wants to find himself. And as his world collapses in on itself, maybe he needs someone to catch him for once. Someone he never expected. 

Tim Drake's I.E.F (Invisible Eldritch Friend)  T SERIES 

The last thing Danny expected while haunting his new favorite pastime while bored (read: homeless) was to find out his secret identity. It was cool though, and he helped the dude get through the days easier now. He expected even less, though, to be caught rooting around in his fridge by their butler. The last thing Tim expected while getting stalked was to get used to the unseen creature and how they started taking care of him. He expected even less for them to be the same age 

Till Death And Beyond  T 85,655 

Danny and Tim have known each other for a year, have been dating for months, and are very happy. Sure, Tim would prefer if his boyfriend let him help him at least get a nicer apartment, or even an internship at WE but Danny won't let him. Dating Tim is not keeping his head down but as far as everyone knows, Danny Fenton died with his parents and sister. Danny Nightingale has no links to him, thanks to Tucker and Technus' magic. But there are still those who would love nothing more than to get their hands on Phantom, despite his not having been seen in a long time. And why is there a vigilante bleeding out on his apartment floor? 

Bones Exposed  T 44,774 SERIES 

After years of being a halfa, Danny's body starts to gain more symptoms from his death, resulting in his human half slowly dying. In a desperate attempt to live the rest of his life in peace, he becomes a hermit, living isolated in Gotham and only leaving his home when his services are needed at Wayne Enterprises. His life isn't what he expected, but it's his and he's accepted it. That is until Tim Drake gives him a reason to start looking for a way to stop himself from dying all the way. Now Danny is desperate to learn how to deal with his disabilities and stop his body from dying completely. At least he has Tim Drake at his side to help. 

This Is Me Trying  T 17,337 SERIES 

After an argument with Dick, Tim snaps under the pressure and quits the Bats. Thanks to some encouragement from Tam, Tim goes on a road trip in the hopes he can clear his head and figure out what he wants to do with his life now that he's left the Waynes behind. It's not easy, not even close, but somewhere along the way he meets a kindred spirit. And maybe, kinda falls a little in love along the way. 

The Price Of Peace  T SERIES 

The Juistria League - the alliance of the major countries of the continent Juisitria - has long since stood for peace. Unfortunately there is one country that is a thorn in their side whenever they try to solidify that peace: The Infinite Lands, a country of barbarians to the north where the only reason they survive is the magic in the air. Where the magic is so strong that even children develop a talent, which they themselves call "the blessings of the dragons". The country that, last time the Juistria League had tried to negotiate, had waged a war more brutal then anything seen before on them, for over a decade - right until the moment a rebellion caged him. Not long ago, his murderer took the title. And now, that very same newly crowned High Chief demands negotiations of them. Bruce would rather die, would rather see Gotham and all of Juistria in flames than to allow that man to take one of his children. Tim, however, makes another decision before he could say that. Now, everyone has to hope Phantom will be happy with the boy… Meanwhile Danny is just too stunned that they actually agreed to that to do anything about the sudden engagement. 

Given Flesh And Form  M 6,308 SERIES 

When Bruce is stuck in time with no way out, there are faster ways to get results than to chase clues all across the seven continents...and it's not like Tim needs complete body autonomy anyway. So what if he agrees to host a budding baby royal ghost until it can form a new body? That's, like, what, under a year's worth of taking it easy? In exchange for his adoptive Dad's life? No contest. Tim strikes a deal with the King of All Ghosts and doesn't regret it for a second. Meanwhile. Tim's family is certain that something is wrong...but what? 

I'll Pay You Ten Times  G 5,004 SERIES 

Being kidnapped is nothing new. Being kidnapped by a boy more or less his age, with zero recollection of how? That's kind of new. Offering said boy, who looks like a mercenary, money to save him in hopes he doesn't have a moral code? Yeah, that's totally new. But Tim is acing it. He can do this. Now only if this mercenary didn't look so hot while kicking goons' butts, that would've been really nice. 

Better Halves (And Other Such Falsehoods)  M 

Danny's trying to recover all the shards to an entity's chalice so that it'll stop destroying the zone while tensions rise amongst his subjects- and trying to finish high school. Tim's juggling his case load, his work as CEO, and does not have time to be embroiled in a sex scandal right now. If that means he has to pretend to date a very suspicious heir to a rival company, then so be it. It's a mutually beneficial relationship. So what if Tim's becoming a little too intrigued by the illusive, powerful Phantom? So what if Danny can't stand the Justice League for leaving him to deal with all of Amity's problems when he was just 14? That's a superhero thing. And their fake boyfriend has no clue that they're a superhero. 

Ghosts Don't Go To High School  T 

Danny Fenton is having a good day, really. It's his birthday and the ghosts were leaving him alone for once! Then his parents discover his blood is contaminated with ectoplasm and move him halfway across the country to Gotham City! Now Danny needs to keep his secret safe from his parents, help a ghost child find her way home, and try not to get expelled from Gotham Academy. And why does the sight of his physics partner make his heart pound? Must be all the coffee he brings him. Danny needs a nap. 

Hi My Name Is Danny What's Your Favorite Dinner Food?  T 666 SERIES 

Clockwork is prolly laughing his ass off right now, the prick. Alrighty, itemizing time, what does Danny know about his current situation? He is apparently a cartoon here? 

The Bakery Is A Front!...Right?:  T 13,211 

Danny Fenton starts his own business in Gotham. He knows that moving to Gotham is dangerous, but it is the only other place with enough natural ectoplasm to sustain him. His bakery quickly grabs the attention of the locals for its fantastic taste and unknown secret ingredient. Things are fine until Danny starts hiring goons out of jobs and getting street kids to make deliveries. His pastries have a strange effect on people, leading people to assume Danny is pushing a new type of drug, using his bakery as a front for his up-and-coming crime empire. To prove it, Tim and Jason go undercover to find out what he uses and how to put him away. 

xOTHER BATFAM 

I Was In The Middle Before I Knew What Had Begun  G 

Danny Fenton is starting a new life with his sister Jazz. Only Jazz isn't the annoying, well meaning big sister that he's known all his life but a five-year-old. Now thrust into the position of caretaker to the one that has always been a caretaker to him, Danny has to push through his pain at losing the one he loved the most while reconciling to his new reality. Now Danny Fenton, uncle to Jazmine Fenton, he's struggling to make ends meet and keep the right to care for the last family member he's got (something that the city of Gotham is far too eager to rip away from him). Cassandra Cain is enjoying her life. She has a cause to rally for, something to devote her whole life to that gives her such purpose that she might as well be alive because if it. She is finally starting to engage in a civilian life as well, setting down some roots in a ballet studio and allowing herself to make some tentative connections with her peers there. When she offers to help out a friend with her ballet class for underprivileged children, Cass is struck by a young man carrying so much grief inside. When she investigates more, Cass discovers this Daniel Fenton is at the mercy of a merciless city because of his meta status. 

Harrowing Holidays  G 8,553 SERIES 

After a few months of dating, Danny invites Jason to Amity Park for Fenton Thanksgiving—both Danny & Jason have convinced themselves, despite all evidence to the contrary, that the other is their normal civilian boyfriend, and don't want to mess things up by revealing their secrets. 

Stand By You  T 11,867 

Dick tumbles through his bedroom window and stumbles to the kitchen. His black and blue suit is stained with blood but the pain from the cut in his side is nothing next to the mental anguish he’s feeling at the moment. All he wants is to get himself patched up and in bed. He had been optimistic this morning that today might turn out okay. Now he doesn’t remember why he’d ever thought that. Upon reaching the kitchen, finds the lights already on and a person dozing at the kitchen bar. His next step ought to have been equally soft as the ones before, barely audible, perfect for stealth. But between the pain and his surprise it came out as more of a thump than a soft pad like cat’s feet. She perks up and turns to face him. He freezes. It’s Jazz. It’s date night. 

We Are Infinite As The Universe We Hold Inside  NR 8,399 

Stephanie Brown finds herself in the awkward position of being pregnant with a god's child and learning this from John Constantine of all people. 

Time To Fall In Love  NR 6,294 SERIES 

A cult uses a ritual designed to summon and bind the Ghost King to their will. What they don't know is that it's actually a ghostly marriage ceremony. 

Equilibrium  M 

There's a new mask on Jason's turf, and this one refuses to leave. Will Jason be able to scare him off, or will they enter into a partnership that can either save them both or drag them screaming into the darkness that hides in both their hearts? 

Fuck Around And Find Family  M 14,144 SERIES 

Danny spends some quality time with the Batfam. And the GIW 

A Deal With The Ghost King  NR 4,524 

When the Ghost King refused their offer of souls in exchange for saving the world, the Justice League had been scrambling to find something he would accept instead. But when the King dissapeared and the world was saved when they weren't looking, Constantine had been in a panic. Someone else had made a deal with the King, offering something worth more than all the souls on Earth. But what? And who had made the deal? Meanwhile, Jason left the meeting. He had a date to plan! 

Empty Graves  NR 

Danny has lost everything. His family, his friends, his haunt. His core is shattered, his powers don't work. He wasn't able to save them, what good is he now? Stuck alone in the limbo between life and death, Danny has nothing left to live for. After a panicked flight that finds him stranded in Gotham, Danny stands atop a tall building and stares down, the tips of his shoes teetering over open air. he closes his eyes and--there's a scream. Fine. He'll try to save one more life. He has to. Or he'll die trying. 

Smash Or Pass?  T 

imagine this, a reporter is asking citizens of Gotham their opinions on the various bats in the city when they stumble across Danny.sleep deprived and looking it, Danny is not paying attention to the reporter at all. 

reporter: "What is your opinion of Red Hood?" 

danny, who stayed up all night playing smash or pass with sam and tucker, only hearing red hood: "Smash." and then danny keeps walking, unaware that he'd just gone viral with only a single word. 

Behind The Fortress Walls  T 32,706 

Jazz is in love with Dick. He’s kind, considerate, and caring. Far and away the nicest person she’s ever dated. But she’s lying to him. About so, so much. And he’ll hate her once he learns the truth. Assuming he doesn't get tired of her canceling all their dates first. When Danny and Ellie go missing, the latest in a series of ghostly disappearances, she's forced to cancel another date. Going to Elmerton to meet up with Tucker and Sam, she will get Danny and Ellie back from the GIW no matter what it takes. Only...they aren't the only ones breaking in.