#HELLO SEND ME MY PLANE I NEED TO CLEAN IT SO WE CAN HAVE A KICKOFF FLIGHT TOMORROW

[crj-200]

WHERE'S MY AIRPLANE, ATLANTA

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Please...

Alright...Is everything ready?

Ryuji, off-screen: Camera's been set up and everything is in place. I've started recording.

Wait, already!?

Ryuji: We can cut out the parts that you don't want left in...But I have to ask, Mahiru...Are you sure you want to do this?

Some things need to be said, Ryuji. It'd probably be better if it came from my mouth anyway.

Ryuji: Alright, if you're sure. Start whenever.

Alright...

*Mahiru clears her throat.

Hello everyone...As you all know, I am Mahiru Koizumi, the former Ultimate Photographer, Remnant of Despair, and agent of Branch 3 of the Future Foundation.

And yes, I am speaking directly to those who follow this blog. The anons. Nice to speak with you directly for once when I'm not answering your questions.

I do, deep down, wish that what I want to talk about could be something a little more lighthearted.

Not that this is anything TOO serious, but still something that's gotten to the point that I need to bring it up and...just ask people kindly for a favor.

Alright, so...I guess I should start by providing a bit of context.

Recently, we had a big wash out of the asks in the box. Answering everything that was stored in there before today so that we have a clean box for when we open it again this weekend.

Keep in mind that though the box may open, we no longer have a schedule for answering asks. We will likely only do it when we have availability to do so. I hope you guys can understand that, but...that's not what I'm here to talk about.

Something that we noticed...as we were going through the asks...is that there was an abundance of a certain type of ask...

Now, since this blog started to gain followers, many people from all walks of life have come to visit, ask, and follow our adventures. And I cannot enforce enough just how grateful we are for all of that, and for all of you.

But...we need to make sure that we're all on the same page here, so I'm here to talk about a specific group of people...who are sending these very horny, degenerate asks, prying into our romantic and sex lives.

Now, let's state the facts here. We have rules on this blog that we expect everyone who comes here to follow, but we do not have a specific rule saying these sorts of asks are forbidden. And they shouldn't be. We encourage people to speak their mind here, and even though we're not therapy central by any means, the purpose of this blog is to hear people out, and answer questions that they want to have answered.

That includes these sorts of asks, but know that we are not obligated to answer them. But we can, and we usually do.

The reason I'm here talking is, as you might have noticed, me and my...well, fiancé, I suppose...get these asks a LOT. People constantly picture in their heads the idea of us being a super freaky couple behind closed doors, and...constantly pry into that.

Do I like it when they do that? No.

Do I think I can stop it? Also no.

And I don't know if I would really want to stop it, since I don't like the idea of not giving the people who follow us what we want...However...

What you have to understand is...just because we exist on different planes than you, we are still living creatures at the end of the day. Even if you don't see us as such. It's fine if you don't, heck, you shouldn't be blending our world with yours but...I need to level with you guys...

When clearing out the box, there were...a lot...of horny, and/or otherwise super sensitive, explicate, perverted asks...SO many...and...I hope you can understand that even though we don't put restrictions on that kind of thing, no one here really wants THAT stuff to be the main content of this blog.

I mean, my friends tease me on my sex life all the time, so there's nothing wrong with what people are doing...

...Mostly...

See, the thing is...there are some asks...I don't know who it is specifically, because of anonymous questioning...who are sending these asks that...are a little over the top.

Stuff like asking me if I can get naked for Hajime or Izuru...Asking Makoto what his favorite sex position is...Stuff like that.

Now, if you are one of the anons, I want to ask you a question. Do you walk up to people that you don't really know too well, and ask them those sorts of questions in real life?

I bet you don't. And if in some cases, you DO? I'm sorry to say this so bluntly, but that's messed up and wrong.

To make matters worse, we have received DM's from some people asking about the ask box being closed, and whether or not their degenerate asks are being answered...and...

People are being...angry? When they hear that we won't answer them? Like, you sent an ask where you asked someone to slap my bare butt, and when we refuse to answer because it doesn't fit with the rules, that upsets you guys.

[cwritesforfun]

Rooster x Fem!Reader: Farm (Request)

Rooster ejects and falls to a forest. Y/N is a farmer and lives alone with her two dogs. Your dog’s names are Coco (border collie female) and Max (border collie male).

Y/N - Your Name & L/N = Last Name

Masterlist

Rooster’s POV

I need to make an emergency landing. This plane is not going to make it back to base. It’s too old. I don’t even know if it’ll make it to land.

Y/N’s POV

I yell “Come Max and Coco! Let’s go!”

I turn and see them sprinting off past me.

((Like the border collie in the gif below))

I chase after them into a clearing where there is a plane that crashed and a man who is struggling to get out. I rush over and help the man hold open the opening, so he can squeeze out of the plane. He falls out of it onto the ground and I help him walk away from the plane.

The man pushes away from me and starts to walk on his own. He makes it two steps before he falls to the ground. I rush over to help him stand up and he says “I’m fine. I’m fine. I don’t need help.” I reply “Don’t tell me you’re fine. You’re bleeding! You need medical attention. Look, I have a cabin about 1 mile from here and I can stabilize the bleeding. You can also call your friends or whoever you’re with to let them know you’re okay.” He asks “What’s your name?” I answer “Y/N L/N. What is your name?” He answers “Bradley Bradshaw, but my friends call me Rooster. I feel better knowing your name. That makes me feel like you won’t kill me.” I laugh and reply “I will not kill you, Bradley Bradshaw. I swear on my dog’s life.” He replies “Then it’s been sworn to the truth. I believe you.” I laugh and he leans on me then we walk to my place.

Bradley/Rooster’s POV

I think I am slightly crazy. I took a plane that clearly was not meant to fly then I went with this random girl to her place, so she can fix me up. I better not regret this. She does smell good at least.

We make it to a cabin and I see rows of plants all neatly organized by rows. There are vegetables, fruit trees, and gigantic flowers. 

Y/N exclaims “So this is home. The bathroom is inside and so is the phone.” I reply “The place is beautiful. I truly cannot believe how great your plants are. I kill plants so fast.” She laughs and replies “Get an aloe plant. They do need a little care, but they are great for cuts.” I thank her.

We go into her place and I wash myself off. She then helps stabilize the bleeding from my arm. I then use her phone and call Maverick.

R = Rooster M = Maverick

M - Hello? R - Hey Mav. It’s Rooster. M - Where are you? We lost your signal over a forest. R - About that, I am in the forest. This nice woman helped get me out of my plane that I crash-landed. She let me clean up here and use my phone to get a ride back.” M - Ok. Just let me know how to get to you. I’ll send a plane. R - Yeah let me ask Y/N... Hey Y/N... Could you help for a sec?

I let Y/N tell him directions and then she hands the phone back to me.

M - Rooster, are you back on? R - Yes I am. Did she give you good directions? M - Yes. She sounds kind. Be safe and we’ll be there in an hour. R - Ok. See you then. M - I’m glad you’re okay, kid.

I talk with Y/N until Maverick shows up.  I then leave.

3 days later... Y/N’s POV

I found some great-looking apples and I’m using them for a salad. This is going to be great.

I hear noises outside and I slowly walk to my front door. I look through the peephole and see a plane. 

I open the door and wait. Who could it be?

Bradley gets out holding a bag and walks towards me. I notice his arm is now in a sling and not just gauze I had. I’m glad he got help.

I exclaim “I’m so glad you to see your arm in a sling and not still in the gauze. I take it you are feeling better today..”

He exclaims “Yes, I did get the help for my arm and I do feel better. The other day … I couldn’t just leave the other day and not get you anything. You saved my life and you took me in when you didn’t even have to. I brought you a small bag of gifts as a small thank you.” I take the bag and say “Thank you ... hey if you’re free, would you like to join me for lunch?” He answers “Uh sure. In that case, good thing I brought a present. One or two things can be contributions for lunch.” I laugh and he walks in. 

Max and Coco run up to him. 

I walk to the kitchen and open my bag. It’s a blanket, wine, and chocolates. He sure knows the way to a woman’s heart. 

I finish cooking lunch and I serve us two plates. 

We eat on the porch overlooking my garden. We spend the next few hours just talking about our lives.

Bradley exclaims “I hate to leave. I’ve had such a great time. I would love to see you again. Would you like to go on a date with me?” I answer “I would like that very much.”

[maebird-melody]

hi hello can you provide context for yr death-defying german stunts? that sounds badass

Sure! It was mostly my own idiocy that led to it, haha.

I was studying abroad on a music program in college, and our practice rooms were located on the second floor above a winery. The owners of the winery lived in the back half of the building, which was in a kind of L-shape. It also backed up against a hill that was overgrown with trees and shrubs, impossible to navigate. Our program director gave us a key to unlock the iron gate at the front and another to unlock the ground floor door which led directly into a stairwell to the second floor. Now, I should note that up to this point, I had not made the mistake of leaving the communal key behind.

I recently visited my sister in Europe and we spent some time in Heidelberg, so I actually have pictures of the building. The door we entered was in the back corner, beneath the carport overhang.

It was a seven minute bike ride from our hostel to the music building, and when I arrived, the iron gate that usually closed off the little courtyard and driveway where we locked our bikes was open. Further, a small group of elementary students would also sometimes use the building for classes, so when I checked the door, it was unlocked. The point being, I did not at any point check my pockets to see if I had the keys on me because I did not need them.

I spent a few hours practicing piano, even heard the cleaning lady come and go. But I liked practicing in the music building most when it was empty and quiet. Then I noticed it was getting dark out. We had some sort of event going on that night, and I was already running late since I’d lost track of time. Figured it was time to go.

I opened the door at the top of the stairs, walked down the steps, and tried to open the ground floor door. Locked.

Strange. In America, you would normally still be able to open a locked door from inside the building. No problem, though, right? Just get the key out and unlock it. Except my pockets were empty. I checked them and my music bag twice for good measure. It’s at this point that I realize I’ve left them behind.

Now, maybe I can call someone. I got the ability to make international calls shortly after arriving in Germany, so I should be able to call one of my program mates and explain the whole embarrassing situation to them.

No cell service. I try every inch of the building. Even standing on the counter in the bathroom and holding my phone out the window. I can’t get a single call or text to go through. I’m in a complete dead zone.

At this point I sit on the bathroom floor and cry. I’m gonna be stuck here until morning. I missed dinner and I’m already hungry. I’m at the whims of the next person to enter this building. Will anyone miss me? Surely they won’t assume that I just decided to ditch the event. Will they even notice I’m gone? I’m the only one of us staying in a room alone, after all.

Another important note about my time abroad, however. There were only seven of us total, a very small program, and when I first arrived in Frankfurt, an hour outside of Heidelberg—the town where I’d be staying—I was the only one coming in on a different plane since I didn’t live in California. Through various mishaps, I got left behind at the airport (a story for another time perhaps). The experience of being a young twenty-year-old, alone in a foreign country where I didn’t speak the language, stuck navigating on my own dime and by my own wits to an unfamiliar city, I think, understandably, left me distraught. My RA, however—another one of the program students—did not agree. He wanted to send me home before the program even began. Didn’t believe I had what it took to study abroad. That I lacked emotional fortitude.

The thought of proving him right gave me the courage to dust myself off and try to solve this problem on my own.

So first thing, I check my options. Are there any fire escapes? Other doors I might’ve missed? None that I can see. There is a high wall separating the building from the back of the adjoining property, probably 10-15 feet tall. It passes under the bathroom window, but that window is too high up and its opening too small for me to fit through. I try going up to the third floor, as if going up would actually help, but the door to the third floor is locked anyways.

Next, I check the windows in each practice room. There are six rooms in total, five that line the right side of the building and look down into the courtyard, and one large room at the end of the hall where we have our conducting classes, with windows that look down onto the street. These windows are in a German style where they open either upwards or inwards like doors, no screens on them, giving me a large enough opening to pass through.

Now the classroom’s windows that overlook the street only have a sheer drop down the side of the building. I could try reaching the drain pipe and shimmying down it, but there’s no guarantee it would hold my weight or that I could reach it from the corner window. Same deal with the windows over the awning, it doesn’t look strong enough to support my weight. I may have only weighed 105 lbs in college, but that was still more than I imagined these non-load-bearing structures were used to.

The first two practice rooms have a view over the carport cover these days, but ten years ago that wasn’t there.

Finally, I come to the very back corner window in the very first practice room. From here, I can see the living quarters of the winery owners. They have a little balcony with a wrought iron-iron railing around it. I could probably make that jump, right?

Granted, it takes me a bit to psych myself up. What if they see me and think I’m some kind of burglar? The curtains are drawn, so hopefully they won’t even notice. It’s probably only a five-foot gap in total, but it feels so much further when you’re standing on a window ledge.

From where I stood, I didn’t know there was a staircase down to the courtyard that led from the balcony, so I thought I’d have to run down the conveyor belt they used for the wine.

I start by tossing my music bag onto the balcony. When it lands safely without scattering my sheet music everywhere, I breathe a sigh of relief. The next part requires me to make the jump, however.

I hold the sides of the window for support, then launch myself at an angle, catching the railing of the balcony and pulling myself over to safety. I sure did wish I’d noticed the massive spiderweb covering the entire window before I’d jumped straight through it, though.

From there, I discovered the staircase and ended up in the courtyard. I did almost immediately go back up the stairs and round the building to the back, hoping to ford through the foliage up the hill rather than jump the iron fence like some sort of criminal, in view of a well-trafficked street. I puttered around the 15-foot wall for awhile, wondering if I could escape through the backs of the other buildings. But finally, I gave in and jumped the fence, trying to time it for when the fewest possible people lined the street (not hard since it was late at night by this point).

The rest of the saga involves walking twenty minutes to the hostel to retrieve the keys, then walking another twenty back to the practice building so I could a) go upstairs and close the window I’d left open and b) retrieve my bike, which in no way would have made it over the fence if I’d tried throwing it.

I had to explain to the RA why I’d missed the event, and he was none too pleased. I double- checked that the key was on me every time after that, scared I’d get reprimanded for my thoughtlessness if it ever happened again.

So, not so much a tale of daring as a comedy of errors. It was unpleasant at the time to go through, but makes for a great story now at least!

@leasayswhat was abroad with me, idk if you remember this tale of woe 😅 — I might be misremembering the specifics of the key situation as well but I think I got it mostly right.

[justanotherfanfolks]

Twisted Wonderland Main Story Scattered Thoughts (Prologue Chapter 3-5)

Sad boi bgm is playing! Feeling bad for Grim, he's experiencing the disrespect. Riddle is team cat for Grim. Azul… stop being weird. This dude has clearly been trying to strike a deal with Riddle for a while. Yuu’s calling Grim an it! Yuu, don’t be rude! CROWLEY WHAT DO YOU MEAN SPARED FROM BEING SERVED AS DINNER! Grim probably took a lot of disrespect before. I’m imagining the student body just being the monkey puppet meme after watching that. NOOO MALLEUS! I remember him wondering why everyone was in their ceremonial robes in the vignettes, but he never cracked the case! One day he’ll wear those robes in public. “Maybe you should have told him yourself” no but it hurts more because they literally spoke to each other earlier that day, but Kalim didn’t realize he didn’t know! What do you mean you don’t know him too well either Kalim, don’t lie to me I read your ceremonial robes, I know you had a conversation! The NPCs are talking! LILIA! LILIA! PEEPAW! Boy with deep voice, lol. … So Lilia knew there was an orientation? And he didn’t tell him? Did he break his phone again? Someone needs to make a bulletin board just for Malleus, the man doesn’t understand email! Azul’s apologizing profusely, he wants those Diasomnia points. Riddle’s just like, eh. Actually, did we ever find out where Malleus went during the ceremony? No one found him until he showed up at the dorm, and they absolutely must have checked there. “I’m afraid that you will not be attending Night Raven College after all” Yuu: I was dragged here against my will, so… Wait, is that the BGM from the overblot reflection scenes?! I LOVE THAT BGM! WHAT’S IT DOING HERE! Ugh, I love TWST music! “Take this person back from where they came!” DM: lol, I don’t know where that is. Crowley’s having a crisis over here. DM’s just shrugging as a disembodied face. Library time!

Yuu is an extraterrestrial confirmed! Or from another dimension, yeah you right Crowley. Would you be more shocked to travel planets or dimensions? Shoe? Yuu, you have shoes, right? Yuu: my wallet! MY PHONE! POV: the portal that let you travel between dimensions robbed you. Crowley’s stuck with a magicless broke teen. RAMSHACKLE! No, but this dude really stuck Yuu into a probably haunted building that is falling apart, headmaster of the year. And will you be cleaning it, Crowley? We will investiage other ways to send you home my butt, you’ve been sitting on your ass for 7 books straight! (please excuse my language) A model educator, sir you don’t teach anything. Well, at least I get to see our beloved Ramshackle Dorm!

…I forgot how bad this place looked at first, THE OSHA VIOLATIONS!(I know OSHA is for working conditions, but still) Lawsuits, lawsuits everywhere. “This is too much character, if you ask me” I love a sassy Yuu. Wow. It looks… okay… I’m going to do more research he says, LIAR! Yuu’s about to become one with the dust. IT’S RAINING! We just got here, and it’s already raining. Oh, it actually looks better with the lights on! GRIM! “Like a bat that got blasted by a water gun.” Grim, you say like you’ve seen it before. Sir, did- did you blast a bat with a water gun? Don’t tell Lilia that. Honestly, it doesn’t seem that hard to sneak in, I don’t think there’s magic on the fence. Yuu can call for guards, I don’t even remember seeing guards, where did that idea come from? I wonder how Grim got here in the first place. Did he jump a carriage? Did he do that plane/boat thing Idia and Lilia mentioned when discussing getting to the island? GRIM’S EAR FIRE CAN GO OUT?! Grim, don’t be magic…ist? Useless? At least Yuu can meet people on eye level. But Grim, you benefit from fixing the holes in the roof. Why do you need payment. I’m convinced homeboy can’t actually do it. Oh, hello strange noises- THE GHOSTS! They’ve always given me Lonesome Ghosts vibes. I forgot what their voices sound like. I’ve been playing too many voiceless events and vignettes, I can’t remember what people sound like that aren’t the core 23. I love how they are ??? when later on they are Ghost A/B/C. Nah, that is absolutely a death threat, run Yuu, RUN! Grim, no fire in the dorm, there are already leaks! Grim, open your eyes to aim! Yuu knows how to bribe. The ghosts coming in with that perspective shot. Oh, time for that legendary Ramshackle Duo teamwork! This is what I imagine they do during Overblot fights. Twistune! A true bop, this song! AHHH, I’m not used to doing the ghost vignette so SLOW, it’s been 84 years since I did it on easy mode! I’m just imagining when Grim gets cocky, Yuu is just standing there arms crossed watching the ghost about to spook him and just letting it happen.

[hizashis-lil-bunbun]

No Rest for the Wicked- HardDom!Dabi X Fem! Brat Reader

Prompt: Dabi just wants to take a nap but everything goes wrong

I asked a friend in one of my discord groups for a random writing prompt when I was up late. Something about this one activated my inner ✨brat✨

Enjoy!

Word Count: 3.3k

Kinks/Warnings: brat taming, degradation, pain play, spanking, belting, mild dacryphilia, bondage, edging and denial, hints of dubcon

Banner made by the always lovely @ladyshinigami!

••••••••••••••

Exhausted.

That was the best way to sum up Dabi’s mood as he trudged through the bar fronting the League’s headquarters. Shigaraki had sent him out on a mission with orders to “stake out and take out” a small band of up-and-coming heroes. It had been easy enough to find them (newbies can never resist being flashy), but making sure they were all disposed of was another matter. A matter only made more complicated by a few rogue civilians that happened to spot him. It had taken him two full days to track everyone down, leaving him covered in blood, soot, and burns. In short, Dabi needed a break.

“Well, well, well.” Came the nasally voice of their fearless leader, “The prodigal son returns! Took you long enough, Dabi. Hope that means you didn’t fuck up the mission.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist.” Dabi snaps back, too tired and sore to care about his tone. Not that he’d be any kinder to Shigaraki if he wasn’t. “I did what you asked and left no witnesses. Now piss off before I turn you into a smoldering pile.”

Shigaraki didn’t rise to Dabi’s bait, opting to simply flip him the bird before going back to whatever game console he was currently obsessed with. Dabi returns the gesture in kind, glowering as he disappears behind the bar and into the League’s living quarters. Their warehouse provides more than enough space for everyone to have their own room, and the boss even allowed them to decorate and furnish them as they pleased. Wasn’t that generous? Dabi plods down the hallway to his assigned room and kicks open the door only to find it was occupied. By you.

“Dabi?” You question for a moment before your eyes light up with excitement. “Dabi! You’re back!”

As a fellow Stain devotee, you’d sought out the LOV and been initiated as a member a mere six months ago. And two months later, you’d been initiated into Dabi’s bed. You wouldn’t exactly call yourselves “lovers.” Love was few and far between in a hornet’s nest of villains. But you’d certainly become something more than the occasional lay.

He grunts as he stalks into the room, shedding his coat and boots as he went. Dabi was never big on grand displays of affection. And in his current state, that small show of acknowledgment may as well have been equivalent to a bear hug.

“I missed you.” You chirp back, undeterred by his gruff response. “How was the mission?”

“Long and shitty.” Came his terse reply as he strips off the rest of his clothes and grabs a towel from a nearby wall hook. “I need a fucking shower.”

He wraps the towel around his waist before he sets about searching for body wash and a first aid kit. Greedy eyes roam the plane of his toned torso, eager to touch the scarred and stapled flesh you’d spent many a night mapping out. Before joining the League, you’d never had an opinion one way or the other on touch or physical intimacy. You didn’t dislike it by any means; it was just something people did, fuck buddies or otherwise. But now that you’d shared a bed with Dabi, your perspective had changed. His rough touch was your drug of choice, intoxicating in all the best ways. And with him being gone for almost 72 hours? It was safe to say you were jonesing for a hit.

“Oooh, sounds like fun.” You purr, sprawling out on the mattress in a catlike stretch. “Want me to join you? I think we could use a little… quality time together.”

He snorts derisively at that, straightening up once he’d found his supplies and fixing you with a deep scowl. So pretty even when he’s pissed. You bat your eyelashes in return.

“Don’t get cute, dollface. Once I get cleaned up I’m passing out for the next century.”

Before you can shoot off another coquettish remark, he turns on his heel and marches out the door in the direction of the communal showers. You huff and clamber out of bed to follow him, determined that he wouldn’t get away so easily.

“C’mon Dabi!” You whine, trotting along behind him as he stalks down the hallway. “I haven’t seen you in days! Are you really just gonna give me the cold shoulder?”

“Yup.” He snaps back, shooting you a harsh glare over said shoulder before barging through the bathroom door. From the other side you can hear his bark of “Move it, psycho!” followed by an indignant squeak from whom you can only assume to be Toga. You huff and stamp your foot like a petulant child, turning on your heel to flounce off in the direction of the League’s bar front.

“Bastard.” You seethe under your breath, “Who does he think he is, ignoring me like that? It’s his fault I’m so pent up. If I tried ignoring him when he was all hot and bothered–!”

You pause for a moment as a lightbulb goes off in your head. A single impish thought flashes through your mind and it causes your lips to curl into a Cheshire grin. He wants to play games? You’ll give him games.

You continue your trek into the dimly-lit, woodpandeled speakeasy, a renewed vigor in your stride as you make a beeline for the bar top. Kurogiri is standing behind it as per usual, wiping out a pint glass like the faithful bartender he pretends to be. You sidle up to the bar and place both hands on the oaken surface, adopting a sweet, too-innocent lilt to your voice.

“Kuro-baby.” You purr, the cutesy pet name causing the misty specter to look up from his task. “Can I have a glass of water, please? With lots of ice, if you don’t mind.”

Wordlessly, Kurogiri sets down the glass and picks up a shorter one, using it to scoop up a generous portion of ice from the freezer below before filling it nearly to the brim from the tap. If he has any suspicion of you, he’s very good at hiding it. The same can’t be said for Shigaraki, sitting a few stools down from you and still tapping away at the buttons of his console.

“Fucking with Staples again?” He questions disinterestedly, followed by a hiss of annoyance when the game lets out a series of gunshots. He must have gotten himself killed again.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You shoot back airily, swiping the glass from Kurogiri’s outstretched hand and hopping off your own barstool.

“It’s your funeral!” He calls after you, waving you off with one hand. You snicker as you march back into the living quarters, one hand wrapped around the chilled glass and the other flattened over the top to ensure you won’t spill a drop along the way. Soon you find yourself back in front of the bathroom door and, suppressing the urge to giggle, you slowly push through it and into the steamy room beyond. In spite of the hideout’s outward appearance, the place is surprisingly clean and well-kempt (all thanks to den mother Kurogiri). Two sinks stand against the left-hand side of the wall, with two doors opposite them leading to the toilets. Next to the sinks are the showers: three open-faced, tile cubes barely covered by flimsy plastic curtains. Toga is standing in front of the nearest sink, wearing a skimpy pair of Hello Kitty pajamas and washing the blood and goop from her latest transformation out of her navy, pleated skirt. She looks up at you when you enter and you quickly put one finger to your lips, smirking as you point between the glass and the running shower beyond. Toga lets loose a sadistic giggle of her own before hastily shushing herself when you hear Dabi’s bark of “Pipe down out there!”

As you move past her, you can see her mouth the words, “You’re so dead, big sis.”

You can feel a jolt of adrenaline course through your veins as you sneak up to the edge of the tiled wall separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom, the glass in your hand shaking briefly. A small amount of water sloshes over the rim and spatters onto the floor, the sound barely overshadowed by the shower.

“Doll?”

His low, rumbling voice coming from the other side of the curtain sends another shiver down your spine.

“What are you up to out there?” He growls dangerously, as if he has a sixth sense when it comes to you and your shenanigans. For just a moment, the rational part of your brain takes over and makes you question your actions. Dabi’s already in a foul mood, and getting worse by the second by the sound of it. Maybe if you hold off and behave like a good girl–

Your body seems to move of its own accord. The next thing you know, the contents of the glass are sailing through the air, arching high over the plastic curtain rod and landing with a messy splat onto your unwitting victim on the other side.

“What the fu–!” Dabi’s curse is cut off by yours and Toga’s mad giggling as you sprint out of the bathroom and down the hallway. Passing by a very confused-looking Spinner, you dart inside Dabi’s room and slam the door, locking it for good measure. Seconds later, he’s pounding on it, using enough force that you’re convinced it might splinter and break off its hinges.

“Open this door right now and make this easier on yourself!” He roars, furiously jiggling the handle.

You let him pound away for a few more seconds, in part to allow yourself time to catch your breath but mostly to delay the unenviable punishment. With a deep, steadying breath, you plaster on a mildly amused expression, undo the lock, and pull open the door. Dabi is visibly seething, water dripping from his hair and cascading in rivulets down his toned chest onto the towel slung low on his hips. His brows are knitted together in rage, turquoise eyes flashing dangerously while one hand is still raised in a fist.

“Oh hey, babe. Done with the shower al–?”

His hands are around your throat before you can blink, your sassy remark devolving into a high-pitched squeak.

“You little bitch.” He spits at you, forcibly backing you further into the room as he advances. “Was that your idea of a joke?”

“N-no.” You gasp in response, voice slightly raspy from the pressure on your jugular. “I just thought–“

“Thought what exactly?” Dabi growls, kicking the door shut behind him with one foot before giving your shoulders a hard shove and pushing you onto the bed. You land with a slight bounce, the momentum giving you just enough time to prop yourself up on your elbows.

“Well?” He hisses, venom dripping from the word as he glares down at you.

“I was worried.” You start slowly, tone almost loving as you gaze up at him with big, doe eyes. “You seemed so tense when you got back. And don’t think I didn’t notice those new burns on your arms. So I thought, since the mission was so hard on you…”

Your face suddenly splits into a shit-eating grin.

“I thought you might need to cool down for a minute.”

Dabi blinks for a second, seemingly struck dumb by your remark. And then his hands are back on you in an instant, roughly flipping you over to lie chest-down with your legs hanging off the edge of the bed.

“Of all the stupid–“

Your shirt is ripped over your head from behind.

“Immature–“

There goes the bra, clasps and straps lost to a wildfire of blue flames as it falls away from your body in a charred heap.

“Bratty little schemes.”

Your leggings and panties are harshly yanked down, slipped off, and discarded into some unknown corner of the room. You feel cool air hit your legs and backside, moments before a harsh slap lands on your right cheek. With a yelp, you cast a wide-eyed glance over your shoulder at the menacing presence behind you; a pillar of rage and sadistic urges looming over your naked form.

“You wanted my attention that badly, dollface? Well I’m sorry to say you’ve got it now.”

Before you can react beyond a pained, needy whimper, Dabi hooks his right arm under your thighs to haul you up and onto the bed. He lays his full weight across your back and reaches around and underneath the farthest edge of the bed to produce a simple, black cuff, attached to the nylon spreader running along the underside of the mattress. Giving it a few cursory tugs, he grabs ahold of your right wrist and yanks it towards the corresponding corner, attaching the device with practiced speed and precision. You continue to writhe and pant below him, muttering a litany of curses and “no’s” as he does the same to the opposite side. You’re now bound by both wrists, unable to do more than thrash wildly on the mattress in a humiliating, spread eagle position.

“Seems like you need a reminder of who’s in charge around here.” He snarls in your ear, pushing himself off of you and marching over to his discarded pile of clothing. You can hear the soft rustle of fabric, followed by the telltale clink of metal on metal that makes your eyes go wide.

“Y-you wouldn’t dare…” You start breathlessly, just before the first blinding sting of leather greets your exposed skin, right at the juncture where the soft swell of your ass meets the tender flesh of your thighs.

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart.” Dabi says mockingly, his tone dripping with false pity and saccharine sweetness as he takes his place at the edge of the bed once more. “I don’t have any problems dealing with a mouthy… little… brat like you.”

His words are punctuated by three more vicious blows, this time striking the meatiest part of your ass and sending the pliant flesh jiggling. The metal rivets in his belt only add to the pain, biting into your rapidly heating flesh and causing tears to prick at the corners of your eyes. Shifting your hips in a futile attempt to get away from Dabi and his newfound torture device, you roll partly onto your side and look over at him with watery, pleading eyes.

“S-sir… Dabi, please!” You sputter out, voice already wavering as your resolve crumbles beneath the stinging sensation. But Dabi’s not in the mood for bargaining. Instead, he growls as he wraps an arm around your waist and shoves his left knee underneath your belly, hiking your ass further into the air.

“Hold still!” He barks at you, another crack of his belt sending a fresh wave of searing pain along your already raw skin. You scream in agony, unable to do more than wriggle and squirm against his hold.

“Start counting, brat.” He demands huskily, your only warning before the next punishing spank meets your burning flesh.

“One!” You gasp out, “I’m sorry! Please–!”

Another blow lands, somehow harder than all the others, revisiting the spot where ass and thigh meet and causing you to wail in pain.

“Too late for apologies, dollface. The only thing I wanna hear from that slutty little mouth is counting. Understand me?”

The arm looped around your waist tightens in warning, and you hiccup before sputtering out a shaky, “T-two.”

“That’s more like it.”

He continues spanking you at a steady pace, the only respite coming when he pauses to hear you choke out the next number. By ten strokes, you’re bawling. By fifteen, you’re practically brain dead, unable to quell the sobs that wrack through your body or think beyond the next count. He mercifully stops at twenty, dropping the belt and loosening his own grip on you. All you can focus on is the burning pain radiating out from your tanned backside, sobbing as you bury your face into the pillow below you for comfort. Dabi’s own breathing is heavy and ragged, and he takes a few deep, measured breaths to steady himself. After a few moments, that hand that once held his belt is carefully laid on the curve of your ass, and you gasp both at the gentle touch and the shock of prickly pain it brings. Judging by the way he strokes the heated flesh, you’re sure the silver eyelets have left a series of bruises behind.

“S-s-sir.” You blubber, “I’m... I…”

“Shhhh, quiet down.” He says softly, voice uncharacteristically tender as he runs his hand along the width of your heated cheeks. “It’s over now. You did so well.”

The unexpected praise makes you whimper beneath his affections, devolving into a quiet moan as his hand travels even lower, fingers coming to rest at the entrance to your heated core. He begins to gently massage at your folds, middle finger slipping inside to find you impossibly wet and clenching around the digit.

“You filthy little thing…” He breathes out on a chuckle, “Are you really that turned on by me beating the hell out of your cute little ass?”

His finger delves deeper, pussy eagerly sucking him in as you keen below him. His free hand begins to lightly scratch up and down your back, goosebumps rising in the wake of each careful caress. Without thinking, you shift further onto your knees, fighting through the pain to push against his hand.

“Please, Sir.” You moan wantonly, “More. Please.”

With another dark chuckle, Dabi slips a second finger inside of you and begins to languidly pump them in and out. Pain and pleasure meld together in a sinful symphony, pants and whimpers coming from you as you rock your abused body against his own scarred flesh. He adjusts the angle and crooks his fingers downwards, curling them just shy of that sensitive bundle of nerves you know would have you seeing stars. Your back arches as you hungrily push against him, dignity forgotten in the face of pure, carnal desire.

“Getting impatient, are we?” He growls teasingly, fingers suddenly slipping out from your sopping core and wrenching a high-pitched whine from the back of your throat. He moves off the bed entirely, ordering you to stay put as he walks over to the nearby dresser and opens up the top drawer. Like the cuffs would allow you to do anything otherwise.

“Ah, here we go.” He says after a few seconds of rummaging, striding back over to the bed and taking up residence behind you. You feel the mattress dip under his weight seconds before his hands find your hips, roughly hauling them upwards and forcing your face further into the pillows. You shriek as he grabs ahold of your left cheek and squeezes harshly, pain shooting up your spine like a bolt of summer lightning. Something hard and cool prods at your quivering entrance, briefly brushing against your clit before being plunged inside of you. The sudden stretch feels at once too much and deeply satiating, sending burning, pleasurable heat licking across your oversensitized nerves. Once the toy is sunk to the hilt, Dabi gives a short grunt of satisfaction before sliding off the bed and circling around to lean over your quivering form. You turn your head to face him and he smirks at the sight of your fucked out expression: eyes red and puffy, cheeks streaked with half-dried tears, lips swollen from the bluntness of your own teeth.

“Aren’t you a sight?” He hums lowly, brushing away an errant strand of hair to plant a condescending kiss to your temple. “Such a needy little slut for me.”

With another dark chuckle, Dabi pats your cheek, straightens up, and turns towards the door.

“Wait!” You squeak out, squirming against your restraints as you watch his retreating back. “You’re just gonna leave me like this?”

“That’s the plan, dollface.” He shoots back, casting you a wicked grin over his left shoulder as he pulls the door open. “At least until I finish my shower.”

[daisys-gard3n]

THe concept of conditioning is impossibly hot to me. I imagine getting fucked so thoroughly by Avdol every day, sometimes even multiple times, and when he has to go on a trip and I need to stay and mind the chickens and cats we definitely own, by the end of the day I'm grinding helplessly on a pillow wrapped in his clothes like I'm in heat because my body NEEDS it so bad

yall...I can't be in a relationship because if something like this happens, i will absolutely go crazy without dick

You get fucked so good by your hubby every single day and so often. You've gotten so used to the feeling of your legs lifted over his strong shoulders as he sinks his cock into you, pounding into your hole and making you clench around it until you're cumming so hard and milking Avdol for everything he's got. If you have a cunt, god damn he's gonna make you squirt so hard around his cock. If you don't, he'll make you cum so hard and so long, you've never experienced it before as Avdol strokes at your p-spot.

Sometimes, after your twitching after your orgasm. Avdol waits for you to calm down a bit before he starts teasing you again, his balls weren't empty and he needs to unload in you until you're dripping with cum.

So when he has to go on a long trip, kissing you goodbye and telling you he'll be back in a month. Leaving you alone, holding one of your cats that was purring in your arms.

You had a duty to look over the animals you raised, looking over Avdol's vegetable garden, cleaning around the house (bc cat fur), and etc. But within a couple of hours, you've already become needy. Your sex burning with arousal and staining your underwear with want. Your fingers weren't good anymore, you had to go with grinding helplessly against a pillow wrapped with a couple of Avdol's shirts and staining it with your want. It still wasn't the same, you yearned for your husband's cock to pound you into the mattress. To call you sweet pet names and kiss your skin as he makes you cum so hard, feeling him fill you up...

You had to call him.

"Hello, Ya Amar. Are you doing okay? I just got off the plane."

"M-Muhammad..."

"...Ya Amar? Did something happen?" He sounded concern, not suspecting anything at first.

"I-I tried...Really hard...I honestly did...B-But I miss you so much."

"Oh, I miss you too. I know it's a while, but I promise I'll be back."

"I-I know...But...S-So...So horny!...W-Want your cock!...W-Wanna cum!"

"Oh, Ya Amar..." Now getting this situation, Avdol let out a chuckle. Quietly, he told you over the phone. "I never knew you were this needy for me...It's really cute. Be a good girl/boy/baby for me and stay on the call, I'll help you make you cum as best as I can."

Avdol sees how horny you are and how much you beg for him to call you so you can get off. You send him lots of pictures and videos, crying out for him as you grind against a pillow or stuff your fingers in your hole as your weeping sex can't get off without him. He'll even do one of those clone-a-willy and send it to you so you can fuck yourself on the replica of his cock and send him videos and pictures. But it's still not the same.

Just wait until he gets back, he's gonna have a lot of fun satisfying you for the week.

[marauderundercover]

Jason Todd is tired. He’s tired of vigilantes and villains and dreary skies. Despite swearing to himself that he didn’t need a break, nor did he want a break, he accepted Bruce’s offer of a break (though Bruce was smart enough to not word it as a break). Instead of patrol and listening to police scanners, Jason was tasked with scouting out a location for a new branch of Wayne Enterprises in Paris. Tim was bitter that he wasn’t the one going, which just added to Jason’s excitement. If it meant pissing off the replacement, Jason would wear a pink beret, anything to piss the kid off. Grinning as he takes in the clear skies through the window of the plane, Jason can’t help but feel relaxed for the first time in a long time.

--------

So maybe Jason shouldn’t have allowed himself to feel relaxed. Because apparently, Paris has freaking supervillains that can flood the entirety of Paris without breaking a sweat.

Jason curses under his breath as he climbs higher up the fire escape, trying desperately not to look at the carnage surrounding him. The entirety of Paris, underwater. The only reason he wasn’t one of the bodies floating beneath him, was the location of his hotel room. B had insisted on Jason using the Wayne’s suite at Le Grand Paris, the one that he had bought in case of emergency trips to Paris. Not that Bruce ever made emergency trips anywhere, seeing as the bat much preferred to stay close to his own home base. Stopping on the roof, Jason pulls out his phone and dials Dick.

    “Hello?” Dick says, his confusion clear even an ocean away. Jason had made sure his brothers knew that his trip to Paris was going to be a silent one, he needed this time away from everything.

    “I know the news may look a little crazy right now, but I’m okay. Might need some Wayne Foundation trucks out here though once clean up begins. The survivors are gonna need somewhere to go-” Jason says, stopping as Dick cuts him off with a surprised noise.

    “Survivors? Little Wing, what’d you do?” He asks and Jason scoffs.

    “Just cause something bad happened, doesn’t mean I had anything to do with it Dickwad. Are there no news stations reporting this shit?” Jason asks as he glances around.

    “Reporting what? You’re kinda freaking me out-” Dick says, but Jason cuts him off.

    “Freaking you- Okay, hold on.” He pulls the phone away from his ear and snaps several pictures of the carnage surrounding him, careful not to get any of the bodies’ faces in his pictures. He sends the pictures and waits a few seconds before hearing the sharp inhale of his older brother.

    “Why are no reports coming from Paris? This is- Jason this is huge. Can you tell how many survivors there are?” Dick asks, his voice more serious than Jason had heard in awhile.

    “Not immediately. I can see people on the surrounding rooftops but-” He pauses, glancing around. “There’s not a lot of people up here Dick.”

    “You’re coming home immediately. I don’t know why B let you go across an ocean by yourself-” Dick rants. Jason rolls his eyes and prepares to respond when suddenly, a bright light flashes in the sky and waves of light rush around the city. Jason blinks and suddenly, the water is gone. And where there were bloated corpses, are now living people. Smiling and acting as if nothing serious happened.

    “What the fuck.” Jason says, and Dick immediately stops talking.

    “Jason? What’s wrong?” He asks. Wordlessly, Jason takes several more pictures and sends them, once again waiting for Dick’s response. “I- is that a current view?” He asks.

    “Uh, yeah. Some freaky lights went everywhere and all of a sudden corpses are walking around and everyone is acting like this is normal.” Jason says, pacing the roof as he tries not to freak out.

    “Monsieur?” A voice calls out timidly, Jason whirls around and his eyes widen at the girl standing in front of him, a foot shorter than him and dressed in what was obviously a hero costume.

    “Uh, hi?” Jason says, ignoring the rapid fire questions from Dick.

    “Oh, um, are you okay?” The girl asks in heavily accented English. Jason just blinks at her before glancing around.

    “What was that?” He asks, barely able to hide the horror in his voice. The girl grimaces.

    “That was an akuma, sent by Hawkmoth. You are new in Paris, yes?” She asks and he nods slowly, not sure where she’s going with this. “I am Ladybug, one of Paris’ heroes. I can explain more, but you really should get off the roof first. And try not to panic, I’ll answer what questions I can, but just stay calm.” The girl says, holding her hands up in a calming manner. Jason nods and points to his phone. She nods in understanding and pulls out a yoyo before propelling to the ground. With a yoyo. Jason blinks in surprise but goes back to his phone.

    “I swear to god Jason if you don’t say something soon I’m going to-” Dick rambles.

    “I just met one of Paris’ heroes.” Jason says, cutting Dick off and reveling in the silence he created. “I’ll call back later, she’s supposed to answer some questions for me.” Jason says before unceremoniously hanging up. Jason climbs back down the fire escape, dropping the last ten feet and landing in a crouch. He stands up and quirks an eyebrow at the look on Ladybug’s face.

    “I could have helped you, no need to almost break a bone.” She says with a frown.

    “Kid, I’m twice your weight. You might be able to swing on a yoyo, but there’s no way in hell you’re gonna be able to carry me too.” He says, crossing his arms.

    “I’m not a kid, I’m uh, I’m a hero, er uh, Ladybug. I’m Ladybug.” She stammers, just solidifying in his mind that this is, in fact, a child. But he just nods, accepting that he was being a little patronizing.

    “Got it, sorry. Can you tell me why all of those corpses are just walking around now? And acting as if that was completely normal?” He asks, and Ladybug sighs.

    “Honestly, my guess is that they’re used to it by now. There was a lot of panic in the beginning, but once people realized that only made things worse...it’s better to just move forward.” She says, pursing her lips.

    “You’re all used to watching people die and come back to life?” Jason asks incredulously. Ladybug nods.

    “This all started a little over three years ago. We have to be used to this by now, otherwise people would be akumatized immediately after every battle.” She adds, and Jason frowns. Akumatized? Three years. This has been happening for over three years? Wait a minute-

    “Have you been the hero since the beginning?” Jason asks, cursing under his breath as Ladybug hesitantly nods. She glances around, watching the horizon nervously.

    “I- I’m not sure why you’re upset about this, and I’m really sorry for this, but you need to breathe. Just, try and think about something else if it upsets you.” Ladybug instructs, her gaze flitting around, occasionally falling back on Jason’s angry face before she’s once again glancing around.

    “Why the hell should I breathe? This is- this is insane! You may be a hero, but you’re still a kid. This is-” Jason freezes and blinks as Ladybug’s yoyo nearly crashes into his face, instead sucking up a little purple butterfly. Eyebrows furrowed, Jason glances at Ladybug’s face, almost immediately taken aback by the resigned look on the hero’s face.

    “This is why you should breathe. This is how Hawkmoth akumatizes you, it’s how he controls you and makes you into a villain that my partner and I will then have to battle. I understand your feelings, and it’s awful that you can’t completely feel them in Paris, but I have a feeling that you wouldn’t want to be used by a supervillain.” Ladybug explains, and Jason tenses. Stupid ass villains attacking kids who- he quickly tries to think about anything else when he sees how tired Ladybug looks.

    “Have you called for any outside help? I mean, no offense, you obviously know what you���re doing. But have you thought of calling for backup so that you can actually take a breath?” Jason asks, and Ladybug huffs before frowning.

    “We did- in the beginning. The day after the first attack, my partner and I met up and we called the Justice League. We were desperate, we knew that we needed help, training at the very least. But- the hero we talked to told us to call when there was an actual problem. As you saw with all of the water, I’m able to fix everything and return it to its state prior to the akuma attack. Anyway, by the time we could have built a case and petitioned for help, I decided it wasn’t a great idea. My partner...he’s tired too. He needs a break, so he petitions for help from time to time. But we can’t risk a member of the Justice League coming here, getting upset, and then turning into a villain. There are some akumatized people who were hard enough to beat without them having prior knowledge of combat. I- I trust my partner. But I don’t think either of us could fight against an akumatized Superman or Wonder Woman.” Ladybug explains, and Jason tries hard to avoid glancing at her shaking hands, lest he embarrass the poor kid by pointing out that she’s anxious about the whole conversation.

    “Would you be willing to accept help if it’s already currently in Paris?” Jason asks, an idea forming in his head.

    “What?” Ladybug asks, her hands no longer shaking as a shocked look flashes onto her face.

    “I’ve worked in security in some pretty intense cities. And I’ve worked as a freelance detective. If you want, I could help you and your partner.” Jason offers, only feeling slightly bad for the lies. Well, they’re not completely lies? Oh well. Not like the girl’s gonna figure that out or anything.

    “I-I would need to talk to my partner first. I don’t make these kinds of decisions without his input.” Ladybug says, and Jason nods.

    “If you and your partner agree to talk to me, I’ll be on this roof at midnight.” Jason says, and Ladybug purses her lips, but nods.

    “Thank you. Bye.” Ladybug waves, using her yoyo to swing away across Paris. Jason frowns as he watches her for a moment. Another kid brought in to fight a war that wasn’t their own. Jason curses under his breath, pushing his hair up as he takes deep breaths to calm down. Pulling out his phone, Jason dials the one number he didn’t want to contact while in Paris.

    “Hey, Replacement, listen up. I need you to do something.”

Next

[santigarcia]

Bot 🤖

Human Touch Part One

a nathan bateman x f!reader fic~

word count: 3.3k

rating: T - nudity (non sexual), mentions of masturbation

summary: After a wrong turn on a hike, you find yourself on Nathan’s property and joining him for dinner. 

a/n: ahhh this is part 1 of 10 of this series! i cannot wait to share it all with you!! remember these will be posted at 9 CST. check here for the schedule so you won’t miss one!! thank you to @punkpascal for encouraging this and listening to me yell nonstop! and thank you to @sergeantkane for your support and for making the moodboards for this series!! 

You only agree to this because of the view. Not for any other reasons. No. No. Certainly not.

Your cousin owns a timeshare in Norway for her work. And she invites you to come up for a few weeks. You’re in desperate need to get out. She won’t even be there half the time, which is even better. You love your cousin but you’re ready for some quiet. Some space. The fresh air. And you’ve seen photographs, the mountains outside her door look beautiful.

Those are enough reasons for anyone to go.

But it’s when you find out who her ‘neighbor’ is that has you chomping at the bit to go.

The term neighbor is a loose term, the neighbor in question lives two hours in a different direction. It’s a secluded private area. But it still gives you some strange hope you might see him.

“I’ve only seen him once,” you remember your cousin telling you. She wasn’t that impressed, but you – you’re dying to see him.

Nathan Bateman, the multi-billionaire CEO, and creator of Bluebook. He’s a celebrity crush of yours. Half the reason you have a Bluebook phone in your pocket is because of him.

There’s something about him. You’ve followed his career quietly, but more than anything you think he’s handsome. Gorgeous even.

He’s a hot topic for gossip since he remains in seclusion, working on his mysterious projects. To be that close to him sends a thrill down your spine. And he’s all you can think about on the plane ride over.

Your cousin picks you up at the airport and you spend the next few days hanging out with her and relaxing. She leaves on the third day and you spend most of it reading that book you’ve been meaning to finish.

As you sit near the window, you can’t help but admire the mountains. The lush greens of the field at the foot of it, the rich white snow. The crisp air feels good to you, even if it gives you chills.

You decide that you want to go hiking. Your cousin mentioned there are several easy trails and you think you can figure them out.

You get to packing that night. You shove your backpack with things you think you’ll need. You don’t plan on being gone long, so just some essentials for the hike.

The next morning is a lovely one, that mountain air is crisp, and it fills your lungs. You feel rejuvenated. The trails are easy to follow and you walk for hours. You stop to rest every so often and keep hydrated and eat.

You have every intention of turning back when it begins to rain. Hard. Within minutes you’re soaked to the bone. It’s freezing and if you don’t get warm you worry you’ll get sick. You try not to panic, but the rain is coming down so hard you can’t see the trail.

Somehow you take a turn and find yourself going down a decline. Maybe you’re near the trails edge.

The rain continues to pour, but through it you see lights of what looks like a house. Shivering, you make the long walk to this place. It’s your port in the storm.

It’s not your cousin’s house, and you don’t remember seeing this one on the way in. You bang loudly on the front door, hoping someone will hear you over the rain. The house looks huge.

“Hello?” you bang on the door; you feel tears welling up in your eyes. You’re so cold. “Is anyone home?”

After a few moments, the door is opened. And you’re not sure who is more surprised. You or the one and only Nathan Bateman standing across from you.

“It’s you,” you gasp, shivering violently from the cold. “Nathan!”

He blinks, his eyebrow ticks up in bewilderment.

“How the hell did you even get out here? Are you okay? Yeah, come in. Shit, you’re freezing. Umm… yeah. That’s me.”

He opens the door wider so you can come inside. The warmth hits you like a wave, and it almost hurts. You haven’t stopped shaking. And now you’re trembling for any entirely different reason.

“I was hiking, and it started raining and I got lost and…” your teeth are chattering. And Nathan looks confused but concerned.

“This is a hell of a way to get introduced, but-“ he pauses for a beat. “We need to get you out of those clothes. You’re gonna get sick.”

You follow him in this maze of a house, and he takes you to a large open bathroom. He turns on the shower and you take a step towards it, but he stops you.

“This is for the steam, you need to get warm slower, you’ll go into shock.”

You’ve heard about this, and you know he’s right. One of the best ways to prevent hypothermia is warming the body through skin to skin contact and body heat.

“Look, shit, I know this isn’t ideal,” he snorts, “but you need to get naked. I won’t look.” He smiles softly and you feel sick. Maybe it’s the hypothermia.

You turn your back to him and begin to awkwardly peel off your clothes. You’ve never felt so embarrassed in your life. He’s turned the opposite direction and isn’t saying anything. You almost wish he would.

“Ok,” you tell him. You’ve turned back around with your arms covering your chest. He’s taken off his shirt, and he’s quick to wrap you up tight in his arms before you can think too much.

His bare chest is warm. His arms squeeze you tight and he rubs your back. His beard tickles your ear, and you feel all of him all at once. It’s making your head spin. Is this? Is this how you’re meeting him?

“I’m Nathan,” he chuckles softly, “but it seems you already knew that.”

You tell him your name, and he chuckles again. “Interesting meeting huh? Story to tell the grandkids.”

That gets a soft laugh from you, and you can feel him physically relax. The awkward tension has been cut.

“You’re feeling warmer now, less shivering.” He states this as if you don’t know, but it’s impossible not to shudder while naked in his arms. He seems to pick up on this, because of the look he gives you when your bodies pull apart. “You okay?” he looks at you, his eyebrow up again.

Tears well up in your eyes and you can see a look of slight panic cross his face.

“No,” he whispers, “No, hey sweetheart, it’s ok. No need to be embarrassed ok? Do you need me to call someone for you?”

“There’s no one to call,” you sniffle out. “I’m staying with my cousin at her place, but she’s out of town.”

“Do you- you wanna stay here tonight? Get warm? We can figure out shit tomorrow.”

“I’m not an inconvenience, am I?”

“Not even a little. You’re the first person I’ve seen in… months. And… it’s way too cold out there. You’re safer here. Just as long as you’re not a serial killer or somethin’… you can stay.” He gives you a little smile, and hands you a towel to wrap yourself in.

”Definitely not a serial killer. I killed a spider last week and I screamed.”

He chuckles while he dries off his chest and pulls his Henley back on.

“Is it just you in this house?” you ask trying to keep the subject off your nudity.

“Yeah, just me. It’s… yeah, it’s a little lonely. But it’s the ideal working environment. No distractions. No noise. But sometimes, it’s too quiet. Listen, hey we can talk later. You should get in the shower, get warmed up ok? Don’t turn the water up too hot alright? I’ll have my housekeeper set aside some dry clothes for you.”

He exits quietly closing the door behind you with a soft click. Once he’s gone, you drop the towel and step into the warm spray of the nicest shower you’ve ever seen.

You try to process what just happened, and you decide this must be a sign or a dream.

At one point there’s a soft knock on the door and you briefly see a woman set a stack of clothes on the counter. She exits as quickly as she arrived.

You wonder why he’d said he’d not seen another person in months when there she was.

After you dry off, you reach for the stack of dry clothes which you assume are his. There’s a soft pair of sweatpants and a warm Henley that looks like the one he was wearing. They smell fresh and clean, and you pull them on eager to not be naked in this house anymore.

You step out of the bathroom and no sooner do you step foot into the hall do you see his face.

“You don’t have any kind of electronic device on you, do you? Like your phone? Just until you leave, for security purposes. It’s just a precaution.”

“You scared me!” you laugh and touch your chest. “And I do, in my backpack. Which I don’t remember where-“

“It’s in the dining room, I’ll show you.”

Once again you follow Nathan through this maze. Your backpack is sitting on the table just as he said. The fabric is soaked, and you have little hope anything is dry on the inside. There’s a neatly folded towel next to the backpack and you spread it out to take out the contents of said pack.

Your phone is in there, and it looks dead. Soaked from the water.

“I can fix that,” he tells you and extends his hand for the phone. You hand it to him, and he pockets it.

After your phone is out, you dump the backpack onto the towel and all your stuff spills out. A clean shirt, a small first aid kit, a phone charger (just in case), and to your horror – a forgotten vibrator that had been stuffed in the bottom of your pack.

You look up at him with fear in your eyes, but he’s got that eyebrow up again.

“Carrying the essentials huh?”

“I-“

“I have so many questions about why you’re hiking with a vibrator, but you look way too embarrassed to answer them honestly. You can keep that for yourself.”

You quickly shove it and the rest of your things back into your soaked backpack.

“So, you’re just… in the middle of the wilderness, alone, with a phone and a vibrator. And no one to call. And you’re sure you’re not a serial killer?” he winks playfully.

“I swear I forgot that was in there!”

“Hey, sorry. I am the last person who’s gonna judge you for somethin’ like that. And you’re not the only person here with a vibrator,” he winks again.

“You sure you’re not a serial killer?” you flush.

“Would it make a difference if I said no?” he can’t help the grin on his face. “Kyoko, my housekeeper, is done with dinner. Would you like to eat with me?” He picks up the damp towel from the table.

“That would be nice, thank you. You’re a good host.”

“I’ll admit, I don’t get a lot of visitors. Or… any visitors, really. But against my better judgement, I’m not gonna let you freeze to death outside. And you seem… relatively harmless,” he smiles again fiddling with the towel in his hands.

The woman you saw earlier sets plates of food down on the table, and Nathan hands her the towel.

“This looks amazing, I can’t thank you enough for your hospitality.”

“I’m glad you’re feeling better. You kinda looked like a wet cat when you got here. No offense,” he bites his lip and glances over at you.

“None taken,” you laugh.

“Do you drink?” he glances at you when he sees you reach for an empty glass.

“I’m not much of a drinker, but I like the occasional wine!”

He chuckles fondly, “We can definitely do wine. I have a Chateau Lafite 1787 and a Cheval Blanc 1947 that are begging to be opened. And… from the look on your face, you have no clue what that means. Kyoko, grab the Cheval.”

“I admit I don’t know! But I can tell you do. You seem to know a lot about a lot of things. Including saving someone from hypothermia,” you almost grimace at the memory.

”That’s why they pay me the big bucks,” he chuckles taking a generous sip of his freshly poured wine. “Damn… this is the good shit.”

You watch him drink and it’s beginning to hit you. This is really him; this is the Nathan that you have his social media accounts on notifications. This is the Nathan that you’ve watched random tech videos you have no interest in but wanted to hear his voice. And now you’re sitting across from him, at his table, watching him drink wine.

“You definitely seem to enjoy the finer things in life, don’t you? And yes, this is good, especially with the meal. I’m not used to this much luxury. I feel like I don’t belong here,” you bite your lip. He’s a genius. Famous and sexy as hell and you’re just-

“Well, you get used to a certain way of living when you’re… me,” he chuckles.

“This wine probably costs more than I make in a month,” you laugh taking another sip. “I don’t know what I’d do if I even had a million dollars.”

“Done.”

“Pardon?”

“I can wire your bank tomorrow.”

“Wait, you can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack,” he shrugs. “Pocket change. Consider it a get well soon present. So, what’s home like for you?” He changes the subject so abruptly, but you go along with it, but it’s hard to keep up.

Suddenly you feel like spilling your whole life out to this man. That you’re stuck. You live at home because you can’t make ends meet and nothing seems to stick. You’re looking for something, but you don’t know what it is.

“I live in a small town. It’s cozy. Simple. But sometimes it feels too small. That’s why I wanted to get away. See something new. I realize how I’ve not experienced much in my life. I want excitement. I want- well I want to move away. That’s what I want.”

He takes another sip of his wine and you can’t help but stare at his delicious beard.

“I specialize in exciting, honey. You stumbled into the right place,” he grins, another soft chuckle escapes his lips.

“I think I did, though it sounds like you know something I don’t know.”

His brow raises as he smirks devilishly, “there’s a lot you don’t know, kitten. There’s a lot I can show you. I didn’t come out here just to be alone.”

Your stomach drops and you feel your face heat. He’s called you two pet names back-to-back. His eyes are fixed on you, watching every move on your face. He’s calculating, tucking everything away into his memory.

“K-kitten?” you find your words, but you sputter on your wine. “Did you just call me kitten?”

His smirk only seems to grow. The confidence is oozing out of him and it’s thick in the air.

“You liked that, didn’t you? Your pupils are dilated.” He causally sips his wine as if he didn’t just ruin your whole life with a short sentence.

He’s rendered you speechless, the very air in your lungs is gone. And there’s a feeling low in your belly. A pang of arousal and need and thrill hits you all at once.

“I-“ your words are lost again, but he speaks up for you.

“Look, kitten,” he punctuates the word, he’s teasing you now. “You obviously did. Can we just skip to the part where we have the conversation?”

“The conversation?”

“Y’know. The one where I tell you I’m not just interested in you because you’re the first person that’s come around here, like… ever, but because you’re beautiful and interesting and genuinely fun to be around. And that you need to make the first move if you want this as much as I do because I’m not some rich asshole who’s trying to take advantage of the fact that you’re completely vulnerable right now. That conversation.” He sips his wine again, and you feel like you might pass out or jump across the table into his lap. You’re too frozen to do either.

“You think I’m beautiful?”

“Honey,” he sighs setting down his wine glass and folding his hands together resting his elbows on the table. “I don’t mince words. And let me put it to you clearly. You’re exactly my fuckin’ type.”

“Is this really happening?”

“Only if you want it to baby. But I’m as real as it gets. And I couldn’t have made a more perfect woman if I tried, and I have.” He mumbles the last part into his wine glass, it’s so quiet you almost don’t hear it.

“Look Nathan, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m in love with you.”

Both his eyebrows raise in question and a smile grin spreads across his face.

“No, I mean,” you bury your face in your hands, “I mean I have a crush on you, you’re kind of… my celebrity crush,” you wince a little and peek out from behind your hands. “My cousin really does own a timeshare and I really did want to get away, but I came because I thought you would be nearby. I didn’t actually think I’d be having dinner with you after you saw me naked.”

“So, that explains the vibrator then,” he scratches his chin, pretending he’s lost in thought. He’s messing with you but when he sees your obvious distress he leans back in his chair. You think he’s about to apologize when you get up and walk down the hall and pick a random room that’s open.

You sit down on a couch and look up to see a Jackson Pollack painting on the wall. Lights are angled at it, it’s the focal point of the room.

A few moments later you hear a soft knock on the doorframe.

Nathan walks in and leans against the desk under the painting, he’s facing you. His arms are crossed, but he doesn’t look angry.

“Look, I wanna talk to you about earlier. I know I come on….strong. And it’s a shitty excuse but you’re the first real woman I’ve seen in months that isn’t my housekeeper and what I said before about you being my type? Shit. I scared you, didn’t I?”

“It’s just overwhelming,” you flush. “My celeb crush saw me naked today and wants to have sex with me. Not to mention you offered me a MILLION dollars without batting an eye!”

“Okay, okay. How can I put you at ease about this? We obviously have a connection. And you might as well stay until I can fix your phone.”

“What about the money?”

“I could put you to work. I’m writing a thesis. And I need to make sure it’s readable to someone who may not understand all this,” he moves his hands around in the air.

“Is that worth a million dollars?”

“It would be to me; I need help on this.”

“Okay,” you nod. “I’ll do it.”

“Really?” he smiles, he seems so excited. “Great. I’ll take you to a room you can stay in. Let me give you a tour of the place.”

Your tour ends with the bedroom. He tells you goodnight and disappears down the hall. You shimmy out of the sweatpants but leave on the Henley and slide into the bed. The sheets are soft, silky. There’s a thick warm blanket on top and you snuggle deep under the covers.

You’re thinking about your day, what a crazy day it’s been. You try not to linger on the naked part, but you think more about his skin. The warmth. The touch of his beard. His obvious desire for you at dinner. You wonder what he’s doing right now. You wonder if he’s thinking about you as much as you are thinking about him. Maybe you have some charge left in the vibrator….

// 

if this looks familiar....it’s because w/ permission from @sergeantkane, i wrote a fic based on my thread w/ her on @thatortheschlong!! 

// 

next part will come on thursday feb 18th!

// 

tagging: @punkpascal​, @pascal-isaac​, @wasicskosgirl​, @velvetmel0n​, @huliabitch​, @shadow-assassin-blix​, @writefightandflightclub​, @aellynera​, @softboywriting​, @veuliee2​, @spider-starry​, @mylifeliterally​, @millllenniawrites​, @ntlmundy​, @foxilayde, @writingletterstothefire​, @mandoplease, @anetteaneta​, @feelmyroarrrr​, @artsymaddie​, @shakespeareanwannabe​, @thevalentinowhitebag​, @deanfanatic​

[1234-angelika]

Dinner Party

an:Hey y'all! So I am almost all caught up on this series. This is the fourth installment of the Happily Ever After series for Hotch. As always, I hope y'all enjoy.

words:1.2k

warnings: mentions of childbirth, death, canon-typical violence, military mentions

summary:"Without a family, man, alone in the world, trembles with the cold." -André Maurois

masterpost|taglist|have an idea

You had briefed the case on the plane, on the way to New Jersey. Two boys had been taken and killed and, a third child had gone missing; Kyle Murphy, a seven-year-old boy.

Once the plane landed, one group of you—you, JJ, Aaron and, Spencer—went straight to the precinct to investigate. The other group—Derek, Emily, and David—went to the Murphys' home to further investigate the scene and observe the press conference. The case moved very quickly since we were on a strict timeline. What we didn't see coming was the fact that Kyle's brother was the one who killed him. The case was a rough one, and everyone was feeling it.

The flight home was silent. You and Aaron were sat side by side, David and Derek across from you, Spencer on the couch and, JJ and Emily in the seats across the aisle. You had been reading a book until you were unable to focus any longer. Shifting in your chair, you turned your body to see Aaron better. The two of you chatted amongst yourselves, trying not to draw too much attention—for the sake of keeping the relationship a secret. However, you knew it wouldn't be able to go on as a secret for much longer, given the fact the two of you were surrounded by some of the best profilers. So, together, you decided that you would announce your relationship to the team. Because you were a team member, you were ok with the rest of the team finding out on their own, but Aaron insisted on a formal introduction. He was very persuasive. Together, you decided to make the announcement on Friday over dinner at your place.

Today was the day! Friday came quickly, the nerves of announcing the relationship coming faster as the dinner got closer. The decision to have dinner at your place was significantly influenced by the fact that you had yet to meet Jack in any capacity. You had already filed for a half-day, needing the time for cleaning and cooking, and Aaron pushed the papers through.

You hurriedly walked into the FBI building, trying to arrive to work on time and also to avoid the chilly weather outside. You made it to your office just in time. Setting your stuff down, you immediately started on your paperwork left from the case earlier this week. The morning passed in a blur, and surprisingly, no one had interrupted you. Finally, the alarm you had set on your phone went off, alerting you that you were done at the office for the day. You put your coat on and gathered your belongings before leaving for the day. You went up to Aaron's office to update him and then headed on your way out of the office.

As you walked through the bullpen, you said, "Dinner at my place tonight. At 7, Garcia will send the address. See you later."

You rushed to the grocery store and flew through, getting everything off of your list before heading on your way home. You drove up to the gate, and the guard walked to your window.

"Miss Y/L/N, welcome home." He said with a smile.

"Thanks Norm. I am expecting some guests this evening, if you could please alert me when they arrive."

"Will do Miss." He started on the way to open the gate when you asked, "Are the kids home Norm?"

"Annie is with them, they are with her in the guest house."

You gave him a nod and a smile before driving through the gate and towards the garage. The butler, Oscar, met you in the garage and helped you carry the groceries in.

"How's your day been Miss?"

"Its been okay Oscar. How's your day been?"

"Its been swell Miss."

"I'm glad to hear it," "Are the lounge and dining room prepared for tonight?"

"Yes Miss."

"With the specifications I left?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Thank you Oscar,"

He left the kitchen after you dismissed him, and then you began to prepare dinner. You got to work chopping and peeling and slicing and dicing. After you placed the chicken in the oven, you went upstairs to get ready.

A quick shower later, you were working on your make-up and doing your hair. Simple make-up and sophisticated hair-do were decided on. You slipped into your black dress and black pumps before making your way back downstairs. The time you had left before the team arrived was filled with cooking and adjusting the place settings. Just as you placed the last wine glass onto the table, your phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Miss Y/L/N, your guests have arrived. Please check the camera to confirm before I let them in."

You walked over to the monitor before answering Norm, "It's them. Thank you Norm."

You then hung up and walked out to the foyer to greet your teammates. You opened the door, and Oscar walked out, taking the keys from each of your friends as they walked up the driveway. They all walked inside, and you watched the expressions on their faces change.

Turning to them, you said, "Welcome to my home."

The team was wide-eyed and looking around when David said, "Bella, I always say I have a mansion but your house… it's absolutely massive."

Gesturing, you said, "The house belongs to my parents—"you were interrupted by the kids running up to you. Annie was hurrying behind them, out of breath and panting apologies. You just waved her off, making sure she knew you weren't angry. Your niece hid behind your legs as soon as she looked up and saw Derek. Crouching down, you picked her up, and she immediately hid her face in the crook of your neck.

"Y/N, who are these cuties?" JJ asked while interacting with your nephew.

"These are my sisters kids," you replied, "That's Marko," you said, pointing to the boy JJ was playing with. Then, stepping to the side, you revealed two little girls standing behind you. "This is Abigail and this is Aleksandra." The two offered a shy wave to your teammates.

"And who might this cutie be?" Derek asked, gesturing to the shy girl in your arms.

"This little one is Briana." You answered with a smile.

Slack-jawed Spencer asked, "So what happened? With their parents I mean."

"My sister passed away due to complications during Brianas birth and during her pregnancy, her husband was serving overseas and was KIA."

"Are you their guardian now?"

"No, legally my parents are. At the time, I was living in LA and couldn't get a transfer here, plus with the job they need a stable home. I live here now though, so I can help out."

The conversation kind of lulled, everyone loitering in the foyer. Aaron decided that now was as good a time as any and made the announcement before dinner even started.

"I know everyone here knows each other and you all know Y/N in an official capacity but, tonight was meant to be used as an announcement of our relationship."

"Emily, Rossi, you both owe me 10." Said Derek, with his signature cheeky grin.

"What for?" You asked, already wary of the path you were heading down.

"We were betting on when the two of you would come clean." Answered Garcia with a smile.

And even though you were a part of the team, somehow, it now felt more like you were a part of a family. The dinner was full of laughter, chatter and, embarrassing stories, continuing long into the night.

taglist:@multixfandomwriter @honeyofthegods @myescapefromthislife @sparklykeylime

[holidaywishes]

Your Call

  Requested: 👍

  Summary/Request: Can you write about Freddie and his girl being long distance and just the ups and downs of that I guess? If you could make it smutty that would be cool too 😍

  Warning: soft/fluffy smut as requested, some angst obviously, some fluff

  Author’s Note: Alright! I’ve pretty much locked myself in my room for the weekend because my mom has a conference and the weather is SHITTY so I can’t do stuff outside. So, that means we get to see how many of these requests I can get done. I’m not entirely sure if this is as angsty as you might have wanted, anon, because it doesn’t delve too deep into the “ups and downs” and it is pretty short but I still hope you enjoy it! Stay Golden, loves! <3

  masterlist

  the other masterlist

xx

  “I don’t want you to leave” you whined as Freddie packed his bag to go on a two week road trip

  “I know babe,” he sighed, “but I’ll be back before you know it and we’ll talk every chance I get. Like we always do when I go out of town”

  “I hate it”

  “I hate it, too, love” he said before kissing your forehead and hugging you close. You pulled out a sweater from his bag before he could zip it up and kept it close to your chest, “(Y/N), come on,“ he laughed, “I have to go...”

  “You don’t need this sweater” you tried to bargain, as if this sweater was the thing that was going to get him to stay

  “You’re right,” he smirked, “I don’t” he made his way downstairs toward the door, throwing his bag by the door before grabbing a glass of water from the kitchen

  “UGH!” you groaned as you clambered down the stairs

  “Babe, elske,” he chuckled, “it’s only two weeks”

  “BUT THAT’S FOREVER!” you groaned again, “what if I want you? What if I need you?”

  “That’s what this is for” he smirked, circling behind you so you fell against his chest as he showed you a video on his phone. The room was soon filled with moaning and heavy breathing as you watched Freddie thrust into you on his small phone screen

  “FREDDIE!” you shouted, pushing the phone away, “when did you record this? How did I not know you were recording this?”

  “I’m very sneaky”

  “I’m not sure I know how to feel about that” he kissed your temple and whispered in your ear

  “This way we’ll have each other when we feel that need”

  “You think of everything, don’t you?” you turned around, wrapping your arms around his neck and playing with his hair. He leaned in but didn’t connect his lips with yours, instead he sighed and his breath brushed across your skin, “what?” you asked

  “I have to be on the plane in twenty minutes”

  “Don’t go” you whined

  “I have to...” you finally let him go but hated it the instant you closed the door. He made sure to send you had the video and you found yourself watching it on repeat for almost an hour

  “We’re very good at this,” you giggled, tilting your head slightly, “he’s soooo good at that...” When you finally stopped watching the video, you were unnecessarily out of breath and you felt like your whole body was on fire but as the days drew on, you were starting to feel his absence.

  “Hey,” your friend, Kaycee, called as she walked in through your front door, “where you at?”

  “I’m in the kitchen!” you called back, turning around just as she walked into the room

  “Have you seen this?” she cut right to the point, something she was known to do when there was something on her mind

  “Hello to you to, Kaycee,” you laughed, “have I seen what?”

  “When was the last time you talked to Freddie?” she asked and you furrowed your brow before sitting at the kitchen island

  “Uhmm.. last night?” you replied, “yeah, last night before bed, why?”

  “What time was that?”

  “I don’t know.. it was before bed. What’s going on?”

  “You haven’t talked to him today?” she continued

  “KAYCEE!” you laughed

  “THERE’S A PICTURE!” she yelled as if she was trying to rip off the band-aid

  “Alright,” you said, “what’s the picture?”

  “Freddie...” she started to explain but decided to just hand you her phone instead. The picture wasn’t much to look at, nothing scandalous, just Freddie in a rental car, outside of his hotel -- which was enough to confuse you on its own -- but when you examined it a little more, you noticed that it was fairly early in the morning and there was a girl getting into his car; a girl you didn’t recognize.

  “What is this?” you scoffed uncomfortably

  “No one knows who she is or, at least,” she added, “they haven’t been able to identify her because of her mask”

  “Maybe it’s not what it looks like”

  “Or maybe it’s exactly what it looks like...”

  “Look, Kaycee, I trust Freddie, so whatever it going on here,” you replied, sliding her phone back to her, “doesn’t matter. It doesn’t mean anything...”

  “If you say so” she said passively, as if she didn’t believe you and, honestly, it was hard not to think that something else was going on but you did trust Freddie. You just hoped that was enough.

xx

Freddie’s P.O.V

  It had only been a couple days but you were already missing (Y/N) and the way she nibbled on your ear to wake you up in the morning or the way she moaned when you trailed your finger down her neck; you had watched that video so many times that you’d practically timed how long it would take you to get off just from hearing it. 

  “(Y/N)” you whispered into your phone on the plane so the guys wouldn’t hear you

  “Freddie? Why are you whispering?” she grumbled on the other line

  “What are you wearing?” you asked

  “What?”

  “I don’t think the video was enough. I’ve watched it too many times for it to really be effective at this point, so...” he added, “what are you wearing?”

  “Who was that girl...?” she asked suddenly, taking you by surprise

  “What girl?” you stopped whispering

  “The girl outside the hotel. Getting into your car...”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about”

  “The internet never sleeps, Fred”

  “I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about”

  “Someone saw you picking up a girl outside your hotel, in Edmonton, and they showed it to me,” she said angrily, “because of course they did”

  “She’s on staff. Her car broke down but we were going to the same place so I offered to give her a ride” you defended

  “That’s it?” she replied and you could tell she didn’t believe you

  “Why would I hookup with some random girl outside of a hotel when I have you? Whose call I look forward to every night, whose face pops into my head all the time, whose breasts I want to message right now, whose lips I want to kiss every second, every minute of every day?” you rambled

  “I hate this” she whined

  “What?” you asked

  “Being away from you,” she groaned, “you being away from me”

  “I do, too, but it’s only one more week”

  “It’s still more than a week”

  “Only by a couple of days”

  “Please, don’t pick up any more girls outside of your hotel, okay?” she pleaded and you assured her before hanging up. You sat back in your seat and sighed, imagining what she might be doing now that you’d woken her up, but hating that she was having all these thoughts rolling around her head that you couldn’t ease with a kiss or four.

xx

  After you’d accused Freddie of cheating on you, the two of you spoke every second of his free time and every night until both of you fell asleep. You hated being apart, the long nights alone in the big, quiet house but you knew it was part of his life when you started dating him, so the lonely feeling was inevitable; still, every time it came around, you hated it more and more. He always managed to keep your mind at ease though, telling jokes or stories about the guys and making sure you knew how much he wanted you when he finally got home and you’d try your best to send him sexy voice notes or the occasional snap of you in his favourite t-shirt. The last few days felt like forever and you found yourself pacing between the upper and lower levels of the apartment, opening the door every once in a while when you thought you heard someone in the hallway

  “Where are you, baby?” you mumbled to yourself. You cleaned, you organized, you poured yourself a glass of wine and he still wasn’t there; you huffed in frustration as your marched upstairs to put on some sexy lingerie for whenever he finally walked through that door.

  “Elske?” he shouted as he came in

  “Shit” you whispered to yourself, fumbling with the lace teddy that you had started to put on, “shit” you repeated, his footsteps moving through the apartment quickly

  “(Y/N)?” he called again and you positioned yourself on the bed just in time

  “Hi” you said when he opened the bedroom door

  “There you are” he smiled, making his way toward you and peeling his jacket off on the way

  “Here I am” you giggled, trying not to feel silly while trying to act sexy

  “Hi baby” he repeated, circling the bed until he could climb on top of you

  “I missed you” you whispered, gripping his sides to feel his body underneath his shirt

  “I missed you, too” he smiled before pressing his lips to yours. Your hands moved gently to undo the buttons on his shirt without breaking the kiss, untucking the fabric from his pants before removing it from his body; caressing his skin with your fingertips as his body pressed closer to yours

  “Freddie” you breathed when he kissed down your jawline and neck before his hands wrapped around your back to pull you up

  “You look beautiful” he said seductively, a growl to his tone

  “I wanted to wear something nice for when you got home”

  “I’m glad you did,” he smirked, “but why don’t we take it off?” he stepped back off the bed and pulled you, by your legs, close to him and he gently pulled the teddy off you; removing his black dress pants when you were completely naked

  “Should I just make sure I’m like this next time you come home?” you teased but he nodded in return, climbing over you once more, his already hardened cock pressing against your thigh as he leaned down to kiss you

  “Yeah,” he smiled against your lips, “cut right to the chase” you giggled before he went back to kissing you. Your hands traced down his body before wrapping around his waist, pushing his hips into yours as he licked your nipple

  “Fuck me, baby” you moaned into his shoulder and he smirked at you in response, licking his finger before moving his hand to your centre; rubbing your clit as he prepared to thrust into you. You moaned breathlessly, continuing to push him into you by the small of his back and arching your back to keep the space closed between you. Freddie pressed soft kisses to your neck to match his slow thrusts, moaning deeply as your hands moved across his body, stationing themselves on his sides.

  “Fuuckk” he growled, hips stuttering as you pulled his hips even closer to yours; creating too much friction to bear.

xx

Freddie’s P.O.V

  She moaned into your ear as she forced your hips to grind into hers. A moan you always missed when you were away.

  “Freddie” she breathed, arching her back more than she already had, the crown of her head the only thing touching the mattress but still it wasn’t enough. You kissed her neck before whispering for her to turn around; she kissed your neck in return, groaning at your request, “fuck me” she pleaded.

  “Turn around” you repeated lowly and she obliged. You pulled her hips to yours before pushing into her, eliciting a near breathless scream

  “Shit” she said between laboured breaths and you pulled her up, holding her arms tightly by her side as your pace increased. The room fell silent for a second as she tried to contain her pleasure but, with one hard thrust, her scream filled the space in front of her. You let go of her arms so you could pull her face to yours, kissing her lips harshly as you breathed into her mouth, grabbing her breast with your free hand

  “Fuck,” you moaned, “fuck, baby you feel so good”

  “Fuck me, Freddie” she smirked back as your hand circled her throat, kissing her temple before letting her fall onto her hands; your hand slipping off her throat and moving to her hips. Your pace increased until the only sound in the room was skin slapping against skin and raspy moans

  “Fuck” you panted

  “Fu—” she started but the sound was cut off while you fucked her deeper. “I’m cumming, Freddie,” she finally cried out, pushing back into your hips, “fuck baby, make me cum”

  “Cum for me, (Y/N)”

  “Fuck” she moaned before dropping onto the mattress, letting her arms go limp. Once you reached your climax, you turned her over and kissed her lips, making your way down her body until reaching her core; every move you made against her clit made her legs shake, letting you know that she was on the verge of her orgasm. “Fuck, Freddie, mmm, fuck” she cursed as your tongue circled her clit and your finger curled inside her. Her thighs flexed and tightened around your head as she lifted her back to increase the friction, “oh god, oh god, oh fuck, oh shit, fuck, Freddie, baby right there” you continued your ministrations, her legs locking you in place until she found her release, laughing as she waited for you to lay beside her. “Hey,” she called when you walked away from her, “where are you going?”

  “I’ll be right back” you laughed, grabbing a cloth from the bathroom and dampening it before you brought it back to her, wiping her clean before kissing up her body and dropping beside her. She exhaled deeply before turning her body to yours, “hey” you said

  “Have I ever told you that you’re like really good at that?” she smirked

  “Thanks” you teased and she gasped sarcastically

  “Hey!” she giggled

  “I’m not nearly as good as you though” you replied

  “Thank you” she said proudly

  “I missed this”

  “I missed this, too”

  “I missed you” she smiled as you kissed your forehead

  “So don’t leave again” she teased

  “Ahh but see,” you joked, “the sex is so much better when we’re apart first” she laughed in return before laying a gentle kiss to your lips

  “I love you” she cooed

  “I love you, too”

  “I hate long distance. Please don’t leave again” she repeated

  “It’s my job, I have to,” you sighed, tracing her skin with your fingers, “but we’ll be able to do this again”

  “And better” she added before curling into your side and you wrapped a blanket around the two of you, falling asleep shortly after. You had to admit, sometimes you hated your job too, knowing that you had to leave her but coming back always made it worth it.

[some-dr-writings]

Fuyuhiko x Reader who won’t confess

·       Of all people you could have fallen for, why did it have t be the YAKUZA BOSS!? He has a bad temper on top of that! What if you tried asking him out and he was insulted by it so he had you killed!? Nope! No! You couldn’t do it! You were way too scared! It would be best you ignore the feelings…

·       …

·       But how could you!? Sure, he was a hot head, but he was a good guy, kind and loyal to his friends. It didn’t help either that you saw each other every day because you were in the same class. It also REALLY didn’t help that your best friend there was Peko, her and Fuyuhiko never spent much time together but the few times they did they seems to be good friends, and Peko seemed to know a lot about Fuyuhiko, so the pair of you would end up talking about him and your crush on him often.

·       “I understand your apprehension, but you can try talking to him more, nothing has happened to our other classmates who have gotten close to him.” “Peko. Gurl. I am the Super High School Level Crime Boss. I may be bold and cunning, but I’m not going to approach the heir of the biggest and greatest crime syndicate in Japan with something like this. I could go with the excuse we are both great powers and should be on amicable terms so we don’t slaughter one another, but that would be a lie, and we don’t lie in my family.” “… Would it be a lie to say you wanted to get to know him because you like him, and he is your classmate?” “… Hmm… perhaps. Even so, I don’t need others on looking, possibly seeing us getting chummy and taking that as a threat.”

·       You didn’t avoid the man per se, but you did try to spend as little time with him as possible, fearful of him asking something in just the right way where you couldn’t dance around it and would have to confess. The few times you did get to spend time together was rather nice.

·       The wind rolled past carrying bright green leaves along with it, a much-needed break from the heat that came pouring down from the cloudless sky. You sighed, taking a sip of your cold drink. With the condensation on the glass, it slipped in your hands for a moment, almost spilling into your lap. You and Peko chatted away at the balcony of the café, loving the summer day. You sighed noticing Fuyuhiko from the corner of your eye. You had figured out long ago that Peko was Fuyuhiko’s secret bodyguard, the man always was near by whenever the pair of you spent time together outside of school. He was even generous and kind to his subordinates letting them live life outside of his syndicate. It truly kind man.

·       “Hmm, oh, Kuzuruyu, hello.” “Huh?” “What?” Clearly both you and the man were caught off guard, it evident on your faces. “What are you doing here?” “Uh… Well, this place just opened but I’ve heard nothing but good things, so I decided to check it out.” “Same with us. Say why don’t you join us?” You spat out your drink, choking on it mid-sip hearing the suggestion, thankfully for the heir who only would have gotten flustered if you had noticed the bright scarlet that had erupted on his cheeks when he approached you and Peko. “Y/N!?” “I’ll get some more napkins.” Peko immediately dashed off, leaving Fuyuhiko with you. You were still coughing, covering your face with napkins, embarrassed by the whole situation and not wanting your crush to see you like this. Nervously Fuyuhiko pat your back, feeling too awkward to do much else. When you settled down you were completely embarrassed but tried to remain calm and let the staff clean the table. “You okay?” “Physically, yes. Emotionally, no, I am a wreak right now.” “Ah.” …

·       …

·       Thankfully for the awkwardness neither of you tried to make idle chit-chat allowing you to notice… something. “Since the staff are taking care of things let’s look for Peko.” “Yeah.” Instead, you both immediately left the premises. Your suspicion was confirmed, you were being followed. At the first opportunity you raced to anything you could use for a quick getaway, a motorcycle this time. Mentally you apologized to the couple and made sure make a note to repay them with a new motorbike later as you slammed a helmet on Fuyuhiko’s head, dashing away on the bike.

·       “Sorry for getting you caught up in this. I recognize the bastard, some assassin who’s like a cockroach, won’t just die no matter how much lead I pump into em’!” A bang sounded, a gun having been fired, the bullet landing right beside the tire sending a few sparks flying. “A cockroach. I’ve dealt with the likes before. Focus on driving, I’ll take care of them.” “Alright. Let’s see how good of a shot you are!” A chuckle seeped out of you, the thrill of the chase always something you couldn’t help but enjoy no matter the danger. With a rev of the engine you took a sharp turn, turning around, leaving skid marks on the pavement as you did so before charging head on for the car behind you. Fuyuhiko blew out a tire as you raced past. “Only two in the car, usually has at least ten assistants. Don’t let your guard down!” “Wasn’t going too. This isn’t my first assassination plot.” “Except you’re a bystander who got dragged in this time, so at least you aren’t the primary target.”

·       Fuyuhiko kept up carefully aimed fire, only having so-many bullets, but you though trying to escape and dodge fire you also specifically made opportunities for Fuyuhiko to get good shots in on any attackers.

·       “Fuck! Gun’s jammed!” “OF COURSE!” Fuyuhiko kept muttering swears under his breath desperately trying to get the damn thing to work again. You looked over your shoulder for a moment, finding Fuyuhiko opted the hurl the junk at the car, cracking the windshield right on the driver’s side. “Hah! Nice one.” “Don’t celebrate just yet. We’re out of fire now.” “Hell no! We could die at any moment, so we’ve gotta celebrate when we can!” You laughed, speeding away as the car behind you wavered, almost crashing. Still though it made chase. Now it was completely up to you to keep you both alive. Taking a sharp turn off the street you instead raced down an alleyway in between buildings. You smiled seeing where you were. “Take in that ocean air Kuzuryu! We’re almost home free!” “Home free you say? Alright, show me what you’ve got!”

·       “There’s more assassins!” “Got it.” Unfortunately the streets by the sea side were much narrower than deeper in the city so dodging was near impossible, all you could do was weave between cars and hope for the best.

·       “Kuzu, Hold on tight!” You dashed through traffic, turning into the opposite lane and cutting across it, slipping between spaces in the railing. Unfortunately, the hill beyond the railing was a bit steeper than you remembered, the pair of you being in the air for a while before crashing down, wavering too much you could only keep balance for a few moments before flipping over.

·       “Hey. Hey, Y/N!” You groaned, slowly getting up, your head ringing and the world swirling and spinning. “Y-you alright?” “For now, but we need to go!” Taking your arm he pulled you up and ran along. The motorcycle left deep marks in the ground, signaling where it crashed, pointing out where you were. “Just gotta get to the docks. We’ll be safe there.” “Got it!”

·       Quickly the pair of you ran along, hiding behind anything you could, from shrubbery to beach umbrellas, the gun fire raining down around you. However for a short time it did suddenly come to a stop. “Peko!” Indeed it was the swords woman, putting a stop to the attacks as long as she could.

·       “Young Master!” Finally you had reunited on the docks. Not stopping for even a moment you raced for a building, kicking the door down upon entering. “Get in the seaplane, now!” The moment your companions were in, you started the engine, immediately going not even giving them the opportunity to strap in.

·       You were surrounded by nothing but blue. Blue skys, blue water, not another plane or boat in sight. You let out a shaky breath, shuttering. “Holy hell, I have not had a chase like that in a while! You two okay? If not there’s a first aid kit under my seat. If you have any serious injuries we’ll have to land and do work on the wing of the plane. But if it can wait for an hour or so we can take care of it on the island.” It was a rather small plane, just for personal use so there was little room, only enough for four seats to be squished against to one another. “I’m fine. Peko-” “I am unharmed. However, you have several cuts.” “Y/N, you’ve been shot!” You gritted your teeth, instead focusing on piloting. “Maybe… but it can wait.” “No! You’re landing this thing right now!” “Kuzuryu! The island has much better supplies for this, and though I know there are no other sea planes in the docks they could have them hidden elsewhere and I want minimal risk of them finding us and my private hideaway. So we have to out run them” “… Fine, but we’re using the first aid kit on you.”

·       You winced as Peko and Fuyuhiko tried patching the wound as best they could. The bullet didn’t get in too deeply but the longer your flight went on the more that fiery pain seeped into you, it no longer being ignorable as your adrenaline lowered and slowed. You could feel our heart pounding against your rib cage, your breathing getting heavier. “Y/N, you’re pale.” “I-I’m fine.” “Like Hell you are! Don’t pull that bull shit with me!” “I can fly this thing, if I can keep doing that I’m fine. It… it’s not too much farther now.”

·       …

·       You were in the cabin. “A-aunty, Uncle.” You smiled, knowing you had arrived at the island safely seeing the elderly pair. “Wh-where’s my guests? How are they?” The woman simply gestured to the wide open doors leading to your tropical paradise, the sand and ocean waves so close, Fuyuhiko and Peko standing in the frame. Fuyuhiko had a few bandages but seemed fine. Both of them looked relived. “Boss shall we leave you with your guests?” “Yeah, but before you go, how long till I’m healed?” “You may get up now.” You looked questioningly to the older gentleman. “We sedated you with sleeping drugs this time so you would not have to just lie in bed and constantly sneak out instead of resting for your health.” “H-hey! I’m not that reckless!” “Boss, you had three bullet wounds.” You simply shriveled in your bed. “I-I needed to check on everyone else myself. Too many got injured that time. Those basters needed to pay.” “And you can not risk your health when doing so, Boss.” “… Thank you, Uncle. You and Aunty prepare some food for us.” In unison the elderly folk said ‘Yes, boss’ heeding your command and making their leave. “I shall assist.” And Peko left with them. Slowly you sat up, getting out of bed. “Well… care for a walk? I feel rather sluggish from having slept for several days at least apparently.” “Sure.”

·       Even if you would regret it later, you could safely spend time with the man now, knowing none other than Peko where here to protect him and heed his command. Just this once you could get a little closer without fear, and more importantly, learn exactly how bad his injuries were.

·       You took the chance to explain to Fuyuhiko just who exactly your assailants were, how they were actually an organization made by rogue government officials who wanted you dead no matter the consequences. How this island was your personal place you only allowed the most trusted of family members in your organization to go to, or those injured should this place be the most convenient, how you ‘Aunty’ and ‘Uncle’ were individuals who had worked in your organization since you first created it and were like family though not actually being blood related to you or even married to one another. And… you just kept talking like how you found this island and made it your home away from home, about school and your classmates. You both just talked about whatever through the day.

·       And soon there you were sitting on the sandy shore, looking up to the starlit sky. “Really? I don’t believe it.” “No, I really did crash the car there.” “You call the assassins cockroaches, but that more so describes you.” “What!?” Fuyuhiko couldn’t help but chuckle a little seeing your reaction. “Yeah, surviving car crashes, being shot through the chest, poisoning, now a motorcycle crash. Seems you’re unkillable.” “Excuse me, but all of those were calculated risks!” “Exactly. Even in crazy situations you can keep calm and take the less disastrous outcome…” His smile faded, a more serious expression taking on his features. “Y’know… When I step up as the leader of the Kuzuryu clan, I’ll need someone strong, and capable by my side… maybe… someone like you.” “……… Are you… confessing, or am I horribly misreading this.” Fuyuhiko froze, a blush flaring up on his cheeks. “Well, I think we worked rather well together today so… W-wanna go out?” “Yes! Absolutely yes!” “O-oh… alright then.” Clearing his throat he stood up. “Well… it’s getting late, I’m shoving off to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow… maybe you could give me a run of the grounds here?” “Yeah, definitely!” “Good… I’m looking forward to it.”

·       “Oh my god, Peko, I finally asked them out! And they said ‘Yes’!” “Good for you, Young Master.” “I didn’t even hesitate! I know you said they it would be safe since nothing had happened to our other classmates, but… they’re still the Boss of the greatest crime syndicate over seas! This could have gone horribly and I just did it! I didn’t even use the excuse we should be on good terms or allies, so we don’t kill each other. I just asked them out!”

·       Even if Peko’s plan didn’t go quite as she thought it would it still worked out. Her duty is to protect her young master, so it would not do for him to kill himself due to stressing over asking his crush out. She already knew things were going to turn out great for the pair of you. You were so alike and so drastically different you just complimented one another perfectly.

[rhysismydaddy]

Unholy Matrimony Pt. 2 (Nessian)

Damnation Series

Parts 1 / 3 / 4 / 5 

_____________________________________________________

~Nesta~

The day after meeting my fiancé, I drop Alexei off at the plane, tell him goodbye, and drive further down the tarmac to where Cassian’s waiting in a completely different private plane.

Very environmentally conscious, our lifestyle

The stairs are unfolded, so after making sure my luggage is transferred over, I head inside.

Cassian’s waiting, sipping bourbon despite the fact that it’s nine in the morning.

He’s dressed in dark jeans, boots, and a black long sleeve t-shirt that makes the tattoos on his hands and knuckles seem even more pronounced. He seems more comfortable now than yesterday.

Like he’s not trying to fit into the mold of a respectable gentleman in a suit.

He looks over as my heels click against the floor, eyes dragging up my legs, pausing at my chest, and scanning my face.

“Hey,” he murmurs, almost like he doesn’t know what else to say.

My lips twitch as I slide into the seat across from him, staying silent for now to throw him off.

As expected, he shifts in his seat, looking mildly uncomfortable.

Then, like he realizes what I’m doing, he narrows his eyes. “You realize that a woman who just sits there, looks pretty, and doesn’t argue is pretty much a man’s dream, right?”

A smile tugs at my lips, but I sigh like I’m not the least bit amused. “Good morning, Cassian.”

His mouth opens and closes a few times as he tries to determine the proper response for such a ground-breaking conversation opener.

He finally decides on: “You don’t have an accent.”

“Not when I speak English.”

Alexei, the hypocritical bastard, said English should sound like English and Russian should sound like Russian.

“Do you speak any other languages?” he asks, apparently not having looked in my file. He’s probably trying to figure out if his secret conversations with his fellow countrymen are safe.

“I speak Italian, since that’s what you really want to know.”

He grins, playful light in his eyes. “I think I’d like to hear that.”

An amused laugh escapes me at that, but I give him what he wants as I murmur, “Sono sicuro che lo faresti.” I’m sure you would.

His eyes seem to darken, and I roll my eyes. Men.

“I speak a little Russian, but not much,” he tells me. Considering I, unlike him, I did my homework, I already knew that.

Done with this conversation, I close my eyes and attempt to sleep. A plan that goes out the window when Cassian says confidently, “I usually only speak Italian when I fuck.”

I know he’s trying to feel me out, get a rise out of me, so I keep my voice completely deadpan as I reply, “Interesting. I tend to choose French.”

He laughs, face splitting into a humongous, goofy-looking grin. “Now that, I can’t wait to hear.”

Ah, yes. Because the idea I won’t sleep with him is unthinkable.

To me, too, but at least I’m not an asshole about it. Time to humble him a bit.

I feign like I’m not attracted to him in the slightest as I make a show of looking him over. “I never said you would, tupitsa.”

Before he can respond to me calling him a dumbass, I close my eyes and go to sleep.

~Cassian~

My fiancé passes out in a matter of seconds. It’s a little impressive, honestly. One second she’s teasing me with the thought of French whispers under silk sheets, the next she’s dead to the world.

I, unfortunately, am stuck on the first part.

Fuck, she’s hot.

It’s an effortless sort of beauty, considering she isn’t wearing makeup and her hair appears to be naturally blonde and straight.

Regardless, she looks like she just stepped off a runway.

Delicate bone structure, fierce eyes, full lips that sounded so good saying my name it took me a moment to formulate a response.

Distracting curves, sweeping hips, long legs that are currently crossed and allowing the slightest hint of lace at the top of her stocking to show.

My dick takes notice of that site, and I remind the greedy bastard she’s a Russian--an enemy--but he doesn’t seem to care. Nope, he wants me to peel those stockings down. With my teeth.

What’s somehow hotter than even her choice of legwear is the fact that she isn’t doing it on purpose. She’s completely relaxed, asleep for God’s sake, not trying to seduce me.

I grit my teeth and look out the window.

Like every other time I fly, I get restless after about ten minutes. I pull out my phone and make sure everything’s ready for when we land, work on my laptop for a bit, stare at Nesta sleeping for a longer bit, and pace the aisle like a caged lion when I start to feel like a creep.

Because I’ve been dealing with administrative shit like getting engaged, it’s been a while since I’ve done something to quell the rush in my blood.

Business, surprisingly, is boring when an army of hateful Russians isn’t trying to kill you all the time. I haven’t fought in days, haven’t shot my gun in longer.

I send Ricardo a text and have him set up a fight for tonight, but even the thought of the coming violence does nothing to help me calm down.

By the time we land, I’m more than ready to get the hell out of this plane.

Nesta wakes up when the wheels touch down, stretching and looking annoyingly well rested.

As the plane taxis, I tell her, “I have to work tonight.”

It’s a lie, and she cocks her eyebrow like she knows it. But she doesn’t call me on it, doesn’t even seem that interested. “I already requested a separate car.”

My brows furrow because I hate being predictable, but I keep my mouth shut.

Nesta stands as the stairs drop open, straightening her dress and pulling it down over the lacey top of her stockings that are now right in front of my face.

Before I even realize what she’s about, there’s a sharp smack to the bottom of my chin that forces my head up. She tsks, shaking her head teasingly.

“What was that for?” I ask, even though I already know.

She grabs her bag, and I follow as she walks down to the tarmac. “Somnophilia.”

I take a second to look up what the hell that is, laughing so hard I have tears in my eyes when I find the definition. Nesta shakes her head, small smile on those distracting lips, and walks to her waiting driver.

“I’ll see you at home, wife,” I call, not able to resist.

She just flips me the bird over her shoulder, making me laugh again.

Like I said, not what I was expecting.

~Nesta~

Things with Cassian are going... well, I guess.

He has the emotional maturity of a seventeen year old boy, but he isn’t terrible. As long as he stays out of my way, I dare say this marriage might work.

He’ll go about his business, I’ll go about mine, and we’ll avoid each other for happily ever after just like the fairytales say.

I shake my head as Maxim, one of the first New York transplants, navigates us through the city and to Sera. I’ve visited all my clubs at least once, and I have to admit, this one is by far my favorite.

As it should be.

The other three I run in New York were all my father’s originally. Built by a man, for the entertainment of men, I have to say they aren’t places I’d visit myself.

But I built Sera from the ground up, and while it’s designed to appeal to both men and women, men are--for the first time in history--not the priority.

The building it’s located in is a skyscraper, one I rent out to different businesses that don’t need an entire place to themselves. The ground floor is a bank, one that discretely cleans Russian money and makes us more through interest.

All in all, an unremarkable location to the public eye.

But every night, after normal banking hours have long passed, a select number of guests are invited to Sera--a speakeasy-type burlesque club with a hidden entrance in the secondary vault of the bank.

It’s secret, exclusive, and private as hell.

When we get to the bank, I enter the passcode on the side door--changed nightly--and walk through the silent lobby to the back room where the bouncer sits on a wooden stool.

“Privet, boss,” the burly man greets, sweeping the door open and ushering me through with a meaty hand. “Man in the back is asking for the owner.”

I nod and step inside, the door immediately closing behind me.

It’s the perfect level of crowded; enough people that no one stands out but not packed to the point of misery. By design, of course.

Everything seems to be the same as when I visited a few months ago except for the changed flooring I had installed last week. The tables and booths in the back are full of people captivated by the jazz singer on stage, a woman I discovered while walking to a business meeting in Paris.

Her cigarette-roughened voice had pulled me in, much like it does the audience now, and I’d offered her a job on the spot.

One of the bartenders, an ex-con who was locked up for stealing insulin for his diabetic daughter, smiles at me and slides me a tumblr of vodka as I make my way over.

“Good to see you,” Dima greets warmly. “How long are you here for?”

“Permanently.”

His eyebrows shoot up, which makes sense, considering the engagement hasn’t been announced properly. We’re apparently having a party of some kind in two weeks to celebrate the big news.

“I’ll explain later,” I tell him, noticing a group of people approaching the bar.

He nods, and I slip away towards the back corner where a roped-off set of stairs lead down to the basement below.

Like usual, there’s a private poker game happening in the main room of the bottom floor, and I stop to make say a few hellos but eventually move on to the hallway containing offices for some of the management.

The soldier stationed at the door to mine nods in acknowledgement, then tells me a whale’s inside.

My brows raise at the idea of a big-time investor coming to see me at this hour, but I shrug and walk in, shoulders back and face blank. I learned a long time ago to never let my emotions play out on my face.

The man waiting inside looks to be in his forties, richer than sin, and cold. Mafia, undoubtedly. His dark eyes rake over me, and he asks in a tone I don’t appreciate, “Who the fuck are you?”

“Nesta Orlov. You requested to speak to me?”

His bushy brows pinch together. “No, I want to speak to the owner.”

“One and the same.”

“I was told Cassian Azara is the owner.”

My jaw clenches at the thought that we’ve been engaged for less than two days and people already assume my shit is his. “By who?” I ask, remembering our upcoming nuptials aren’t even public news yet.

“My Capo.”

That gets my attention.

Rhysand’s telling people my club is Cassian’s? Why?

Something isn’t right.

I might not know the Italian boss, but I’ve heard he’s straightforward. Ruthless but honest. So why would he lie?

A little voice inside my head whispers, What if he isn’t?

Mind whirling, I turn to the man and smile politely even though it’s the last thing I feel like doing. “Would you mind giving me a moment? If you go upstairs, our bartender will get you anything you want, on the house.”

He shrugs and leaves, and as soon as the door clicks shut, I go to my desk and pull up the electronic copy of our marriage contract.

Like I thought, nothing’s amiss.

I read this shit thoroughly enough to know exactly what I was getting into, and in case I missed anything, I had my private lawyer scan over it.

But that little voice, that gut feeling, refuses to go away. So I grab my bag and look through the physical copy, dread unfurling when I notice an extra page tucked in the middle.

It’s a prenup.

One I’ve never seen.

And there, smack dab in the middle, is a line declaring the deed to Sera the property of Cassian Azara.

A rough breath forces its way out of me, and for a second, I’m so angry, so blind with rage, I can’t hardly think. What the hell is going on?

I force myself to think through this, to rationalize what I’m seeing.

Replaying the moment in the Capo’s office, I realize the switch between the original and this version of the contract must’ve happened prior. I was only in there a few minutes and had the papers in my hand the whole time.

Which means...

Alexei picks up on the first ring, like he was waiting for the call. “Da.”

“What the hell have you done?”

He sighs. “What needed doing.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it. I wasn’t the one who started a goddamn war with the Italians, and yet I’m the one who’s paying all the prices. I’m marrying the bastard, for fuck’s sake. Give him one of your clubs.”

His tone hardens. “He didn’t want anything else.”

“I don’t give a shit! This place is my property. It isn’t yours to give away.” I take a deep breath and try to quiet the rushing in my veins. “That idiot will run it into the ground.”

There’s a long moment, and I swear he sounds a little guilty as he says calmly, “He has more than a few businesses of his own, Nesta. It will be fine.”

I pinch my lips together to keep from cursing the man who raised me.

“If you read the document,” he says, a strange note to his voice. “You’ll notice there are a number of clauses.”

My eyes scan to the bottom of the page, and I read as Alexei continues. “He is permitted from selling, unless to you. The investors have the option to vote him out at any time. And if he is unfaithful to you or ends the engagement for whatever reason, Sera is returned to you in full.”

All the violence, all the rage, seems to dim. Just a little.

This is so like Alexei; in fact, it was one of his first lessons to me.

Give someone the illusion of winning, and they’ll sign anything you want them to.

I read through the clauses again, lips twitching. “Let me get this straight. If I can prove Cassian Azara--notorious playboy of New York--is cheating on me, the club is mine? And if the board at Sera votes him out, he can’t fight it?”

I can practically hear my father’s smile. “Da.”

“Or if I drive him crazy and he ends the engagement?”

“Da.”

Sounds easy enough. I drive Alexei absolutely insane and have never had a long-term relationship. I’ll have him running for the hills in no time.

One thing doesn’t make sense, though. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew if I told you, you wouldn’t sign. It’s still a risk, even with the clauses” He takes a deep breath. “I never told you, but we were losing the war in New York. We would’ve lasted another year, and then we would’ve lost the city.”

“Alexei-”

“I need this alliance to hold, Volchonok,” he says. “And either of you calling off the engagement or divorcing the other is grounds for the war to start back up.”

“So you’re saying I still need to marry him.”

He gruffs a confirmation, and my brain whirls as it thinks of a new plan.

My options are down to three: have him sell to me, prove he’s cheating, or get the board to vote him out.

“One more thing. You only have until the wedding. Once you’re married, the only way to get your property back is if he signs the deed to you.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, moving my timeline up by a factor of a hundred. Checking the calendar proves what I already know: I have less than thirty days to somehow convince one of the most notoriously stubborn men in the world to give me a multi-million dollar company.

Easy.

“I’m... sorry. For lying.”

I’m so shocked he just apologized--something he’s never done in my twenty-five years of life--it takes me a moment to respond and tell him he’s forgiven. “Ty proshchen, otets.”

I disconnect the call and swivel around in the chair, a smile pulling on my lips.

I’m going to drive him fucking crazy. All while I make him fall in love with me.

Oh, Cassian. I almost feel sorry for you.

_______________________________________________________

NEXT CHAPTER

[botanicials]

wish this was the full part, but here is a sneak peak of falling in love at a coffee shop. the first few rough paragraphs. coming soon! littles will be posted until then ❣️

falling in love at a coffee shop

i. (sneak peak!)

October 13

The cold NYC wind is forgiving for once, all things considered. You had just spent your evening watching over seven sugar high eight-year-olds that had decided finger painting was the ideal after school activity. It was laborious at times and their parents probably weren’t too pleased, but the kids were happy.

Your phone is warm against your cheek as you walk, owing to the Disney Favorites playlist you were asked to play- and Eloise skipping nearly every song that wasn’t sung by Elsa or Moana. Your mother’s words are insistent in your ear: plane tickets, dinners, graduation details.

“It isn’t for another… what? Four months? We’ll figure it out.”

You hear your mother sigh. “I’d rather plan everything out now, the end of the year brings me enough stress as is.”

“It-“

“And what is it with your graduation ceremony being in January? Such an odd time. I mean, right after the holidays? Don’t they realize we might want a bit of a break?”

You laugh lightly at that, eyes spotting the familiar rusting sign hanging up ahead. “Um, has to do with my hours and the kids’ semester ending. I don’t know. Tickets should be cheaper, they usually are after Christmas.”

“Suppose that’s a positive.”

“Definitely a positive- I’ll call you later, I’m grabbing some food so I can hurry up and get home. There's an apron covered with paint in my bag and I’m convinced it’ll stain everything I have inside.”

You begin to unwrap your scarf from your neck as you near closer to the mahogany red door, turning to push it open with your side. “You put an apron covered in paint in your bag?” She sounds incredulous.

“It’s rolled, mom. I’ll call you later.” You repeat.

“Soon.” She says, and you hum before finally ending the call.

A gust of warm air hits the chilled skin of your face when you enter, along with the strong aroma of brewing coffee and a hint of vanilla. You move quickly to close the door behind you, not wanting to disturb anyone with the reality of what they’d have to endure once they leave.

“Welcome in.”

Your eyes follow over to the voice that called out, to catch him take a quick glance at you before turning to meet your eyes again.

He’s not much taller than the familiar college students that work here, but judging from his shoulders, his build is clearly much larger. Atop his wool baby blue sweater is a- definitely used -burgundy apron you’ve seen time and time again. Who you haven’t seen, however, is him.

Once his eyes flicker to the new customer in front of him and back to you, you realize that you’d completely ignored his greeting. And hadn’t moved from the door?

You find yourself sending a clumsy smile before moving across the hardwood floors to stand in line behind the short balding man repeating his order.

Your phone is in your hand a moment later, needing a distraction as to not ogle at the pretty green-eyed barista any longer. Your thumb instinctively lands on Instagram, as much as you wish it hadn’t.

A selfie of an old friend from high school.

A photo of someone’s newborn. The third you’d seen this month.

The conventional food flat lay.

You hear the man in front of you make a second order of two dozen bagels for a big meeting tomorrow morning. “Hoping for a promotion,” he says, a clear smile in his voice. You silently wish him the best. With bagels from Coldwell’s, he was bound to make a good impression.

You’ve been coming here since the beginning of your junior year, finding the cozy café to be a home away from home. You’d discovered it after moving out of your dorm, it was an unmistakable upgrade from the campus coffee shop you were forced to visit every morning.

Thick floor to ceiling windows on one wall, exposed brick and a menu on another; coupled with the bulbous string lights, numerous plants hanging from the ceiling and perched on shelves with the occasional vintage record. 

There were unspoken sections inside; couches and low tables for group study sessions, a line of comfy booths along the back for brunches and dates, a few tables with mismatched wooden chairs for those who’d rather spend some time alone. It was always clean and well kept, and during Christmas, it smelled of nutmeg.

Depending on which barista had their phone connected to the speakers, the shop was either playing Spotify’s Chill Lofi Study Beats or smooth jazz, both welcomed by the regulars that filtered in day-to-day.

You hear the last drop of the bagel slicer when your phone buzzes faintly. Milo: We should go for breakfast one morning. When are you free? :)  That message alone was enough for you to stuff your phone into your bag. Jesus Christ.

You watch the man’s scuffled loafers as he makes his way out, the arm free from two large boxes lifting to wish his barista a good night. Speaking of, he’s got a welcoming grin on his face when you step to the counter. There was no doubt he was recalling your odd entrance.

“Hello.”

His eyes are bright, they remind you of a dewy morning in a garden - and you wish you were in the right state of mind to watch him the way he was watching you. “Hi, um”, your eyes fly up to the menu as if you weren’t sure of exactly what you were getting. “Are you still selling those bottled fruit drinks? I usually get them in the morning.”

“The Pressed ones? Got a few in the back but I’ll grab one for you. What flavor?” You take a second to inwardly scold yourself for focusing too hard on the way he’d flavor, there was no second-guessing on whether he had an accent or not from moments ago.

“Blackberry,” you say, sending a small smile.

He taps at the screen of the POS, his lips tucked into his mouth as you reach into your bag for your wallet.

Not there. No. Not that pocket either.

You frown.

“So, a blackberry Pressed, anything else?”

Your head is nearly inside of your purse as you move your belongings around, cautious of smearing Crayola paint anywhere. “Please, a blueberry um...”, you flip the apron to stick out a bit and allow you more room to see, careful not to squeeze it too hard, “bagel?”

A beat of silence.

“You sure?”

Your head snaps back up to find the barista- Harry, his name tag reads, it suits him -smiling at you, teasing.

You laugh at yourself a bit before buttoning your bag closed. Your wallet was nowhere to be found; which would frighten you if you hadn’t already left it in the classroom twice this week. “Yes-. Yeah, sorry my brain is like, fried from studying.”

“No, yeah totally get it,” he says. Tot-ally.

You find yourself contemplating on whether you should tell him to completely scrap your order or give in and finally figure out how ApplePay works. He scratches at his chin. “Erm.. cream cheese?”

You have some at home. “No, thank you.”

He nods and you take a glance at the tiny hoop earring that catches in the overhead light as he does. You’re just about to resume digging in your bag to check one more time, when he surprises you by saying something that isn’t your total. “What are you majoring in?”

You readjust. “Education. I want to teach 3rd grade.”

“Do you?” His smile is wide and you notice the dimples that sink into his cheeks. Because of course, the guy has dimples.

His genuine happiness takes you by surprise and you laugh. “Yeah, I graduate this year. Well- hopefully. Still have to pass my finals.”

He’s still tapping at the POS- definitely taking much longer than normal, but you don’t mind. Thankfully you had nowhere to be for once.

“M’sure you’ll do great.” You smile, despite the fact that his eyes were still on the screen in front of him. “I um, I graduated just last year,” he looks up to see your eyebrows rise in question. “Film.”

“Film?” you repeat. “I.. Honestly, I can see that.” The earring, the eyes, his style. It made sense.

Tap. Tap. You catch the price going down.

“That because I’m working at a coffee shop?”

“That- What? No, no. I-“

He lets out a boyish giggle and shakes his head. “Only joking. That was a bit of a dig to us film majors, hm?”

“A little. It just makes sense,” you continue. “You look like a film major.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s a compliment,” you say, and his lips twist to fight a smile.

“I’ll take it,” he says, slipping a glove onto his left hand. Your eyes immediately take notice of the cross etched next to his thumb. “Total comes out to $3.21. I’ll go grab your-“

“You didn’t have to do that.” You’ve ordered this countless times, and though Anne let you have your things for free when no one else was around, it’s always come out to $6.78.

Harry only frowns, shaking his head. Don’t worry about it. “I’ll go grab your drink.”

“Sure. Thank you.”

The second he disappeared into the kitchen  you’ve seen so little of, you quickly lift your wrist to try and figure out how this stupid watch worked.

You told yourself to test this out at some point, but you just haven’t had the time. The pad of your figure taps and swipes against the tiny screen, nothing screaming pay with me!

Not that app.

Not that one either.

Had you even set it up?

You hear the door smack lightly against the wall. “Alright here’s- oh,” Harry stumbles upon return, eyebrows drawn together. “Did the card not work? There’s a chip at the bottom-“

“No, I was- I left my wallet at work and I’m trying to..” You point at the card reader. “Does this have Apple Pay?”

His eyes flicker between your watch and the reader before nodding. “Yeah, you’ve just got to..” he leans over the counter a bit and his hand hovers over yours. “May I?”

With confirmation, his nimble fingers press lightly into the inside of your wrist, tilting it toward the reader. His touch is soft- he’s excessively gentle despite only adjusting your hand. He moves his thumb to double click a button on the side of your device, the palm of his hand brushing the side of yours.

The both of you look up at one another, eyes meeting in much closer proximity than any time tonight.

You can’t possibly pick up a guy at a coffee shop. Right?

Ding!

You look down at your wrist that’s still in his hold, your tiny screen now displaying a successful checkmark.

He swiftly pulls his hand away, the gloved one quickly grabbing your bagel as the other grabbed a waxed baggie. “Sorry-“

“No, thank you.” You can’t help but let out a clumsy laugh at the moment the two of you just shared. Silly, you think to yourself.

“To go, yeah?”

“Please.”

He smiles, eyes focused on the screen before the printer hums to life and begins to spit out your receipt.

You watch as he works the bagel slicer and toaster without conscious thought, large hand pulling off his glove before taping the flimsy paper to the front of the bag. He’s sliding your items over to you to grab when you speak once more.

“And thank you again, for the discount.”

He only shakes his head, lips turning down into a funny looking frown. “Don’t worry about it, really. Good luck on finals.”

You smile gratefully, managing to hold your juice and bagel in one hand as you make your way back over to the door. “Thank you! Have a good night.”

“Bye, love you—“ He practically chokes on his own spit, turning quickly to cough steadily into the crook of his elbow.

You were halfway out of the door when you heard him, and now you stare, amused as the cold wind nips at the left side of your face. “Love me?”

“I-“ His nose crinkles, and he coughs one last time. “Sorry, I-“ You watch as he visibly relaxes once his focus is back on you and not on trying to breathe correctly. 

Your head is tilted to the side, an obvious glint in your eye.

He lets out a breathy laugh before trying to continue. “I don’t-” Your eyebrows rise as he stumbles. “- love you. I just- I say it to friends a lot and I guess it… slipped? I don’t know-“

“I’m teasing.” You call out over the wind that blows through as you push the door open wider. You can’t help but laugh to yourself as you move to leave. “Don’t worry. Bye, Harry.”

[lovelyirony]

oh my GOD mechanicfam is god tier just may i present an au where tony adopts harley after his mom and sister die in a car crash (post-mandarin) and so tony's the only person harley knows to go to and harley's the thing that makes rhodey and tony get their HEADS out of their ASSES

Harley keeps the business card that was left on the workshop of his house. He kept it in a kitchen drawer that his mom never used, because it full of the “nice” dish towels that were only taken out come Christmastime. 

His fingers shake as he grips the phone, punching in the numbers. 

“Can I ask who’s calling?” 

“It’s...um. Harley. Keener. From Tennessee.” 

There’s a shift on the phone, and Harley feels a bit guilty because it is late, but he doesn’t know where else to turn. 

“What’s up, kiddo?” 

“Um. I need help.” 

“With what?” 

And that’s when Harley loses it. He can barely enunciate the words, and he’s trying to furiously wipe away tears as he hears a litany of curses over the other line. 

“I’m...I’m sorry, I just didn’t know who else to call and I don’t know what to do, and-” 

“Kid, don’t you worry. I’ll be there in...two hours. Hell, maybe one if I can break the sound barrier. You have anything to eat yet?” 

“Um, no?” 

“Okay, then we stop for food when we get home.” 

“Home?” 

“...we’ll talk when I get there.” 

-

Tony, in all honesty, does not know what he’s doing. God knows he had two stellar examples of parenting from Howard and Maria. 

But he knows that a kid like Harley will get torn apart, and he...he can’t let him do that. 

“Are you sure about this?” Rhodey asks. 

“Yes,” Tony says. “I’m sure. We’ll...I’ll figure it out. I promise.” 

“You act like I’m not going to help you,” Rhodey says. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you get back. You have a way of transporting him back?” 

“Already ordered a car to the airport, we’ll be taking a plane back home.” 

“Bring him back safe.” 

“Always.” 

- 

Harley collapses into Tony’s arms when he touches down, armor barely off. 

“Please,” he sobs. “Please just get me out of here.” 

- 

Tony wasn’t going into the situation blind. He had seen the article from their newspaper about the crash. 

Harley said he had been riding his bike. Abbie really wanted to get a burger, and he hadn’t wanted to go. 

“They would still be here if I had gone,” Harley says bitterly, and Tony’s heart has a pang of hurt because he understands that feeling all too well. But right now, Harley doesn’t need someone to understand everything, he just needs to be cared for. 

Tony sits down with him at a kitchen table and doesn’t miss how Harley stares at the two chairs across from them. 

“I want to talk with you,” he says quietly. “I want to know what you want to do.” 

Harley looks at him. 

“I...I wasn’t really expecting you to come.” 

“We’re connected,” Tony says, a soft smile on his face. “I always will, whenever you want. Now, I’m just here to help you figure out what you want.” 

“...what are the options?” 

Tony’s willing to go through hell and back for this kid. He doesn’t tell him this verbatim, but the sentiment is there. He’d be willing to do anything, so long as he could see Harley safe and happy wherever he was. 

- 

Harley sits outside for a moment, breathing. 

And then he can’t breathe. 

Abbie’s looking up at the night sky, smiling. 

“It’ll always be like this, right Harls?” 

“Right,” Harley says, smiling nice and easy. “I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to us.” 

Except he did. 

It was all over the news, and everyone knew about it. 

He comes back in, and Tony can probably tell that he’s at his absolute worst. 

“I can’t stay here. I-I need to leave. Now.” 

“Alright, let’s go.” 

- 

Driving in the car is a mostly silent affair. Tony hums along to AC/DC and tells Harley about new projects. 

Their first rest stop, Tony goes out with Harley, watching him carefully. 

“I’m not gonna break,” Harley snaps. 

“Not saying you’re gonna.” 

“Well I’m not.” 

“Okay. Rhodey’s at the house waiting for us when we get there.” 

“He on leave?” 

Tony nods. “Three months. Lucky.” 

“Yeah.” 

Not a lot after that. 

At some point, Harley dozes off, leaning his head against the door. 

Tony sends a message to Rhodey when they’re boarding the plane. Harley’s still a little groggy, and mostly content to just blearily go and find a seat and pass out. 

He sleeps the whole flight home, and Tony is left with his thoughts. 

Thought One: Maybe he Should’ve Left This Alone. 

Thought Two: He needs to answer Pepper’s email regarding the press conferences and publicity things, get that all worked out. 

Thought Three: He hopes Rhodey has some sort of food ready. 

- 

Rhodey sees Tony and Harley stumbling in, and he’s struck for a moment by just how similarly they carry themselves, how Harley’s eyes dart around like Tony’s did when he first moved into their dorm. 

“Hi,” Rhodey says. “You hungry?” 

“Um.” 

“We’ll sit down anyways,” Tony says. “Planes are the worst, Harley. They zap all your energy no matter how long you sit on your ass.” 

Rhodey sends Tony a look that says “you should probably watch your language.” 

Tony sends back a look that says “now’s not the time to discuss my behaviors.” 

- 

Harley sleeps. 

He’s surprised he does, because he wakes up about nine hours later, and he feels like he doesn’t deserve this long of sleep. He gets slammed with the current news of his life all over again, and his lips tremble as he gets out of a bed that he thinks is too nice for him, and stares into a mirror. 

“Mr. Keener?” 

Harley jumps. 

“...is that you, Jarvis?” 

“It is indeed, Mr. Keener. An honor to make your acquaintance, Sir has told me so much about you.” 

“Please tell me he didn’t tell you about the potato gun.” 

“I can neither confirm nor deny.” 

Harley grins up at where the voice emanates. 

“Your presence is required for breakfast, if that is alright.” 

“That’s...that’s fine.” 

He’s not hungry, but Rhodey slides him a plate of toast and eggs. 

“Try to eat as much as you can,” he says. “Tony can finish off the rest, if he ever comes down from his bed.” 

Harley nods, nibbling on the toast. 

“You want jam or anything? We have grape, and...only grape. This peach looks questionable.” 

Harley snorts. 

“I’m good. Thanks, though.” 

“No problem.” 

They eat in awkward but companionable silence, and finally Harley speaks. 

“Tony said you’re on leave for three months.” 

“I got lucky,” Rhodey says, grinning. “I get to stay here with you guys for longer than three weeks. A full guarantee, unless of aliens.” 

“They’re that much of a concern?” Harley asks, eyebrows raised. 

“Only at high levels,” Rhodey says, giving him a lazy wink. “You didn’t hear it from me.” 

“If anything, you would hear it from me,” Tony says, wrapped up in a gaudily-patterned robe. “Hello dearest, hello little one.” 

“I’m not little,” Harley grumbles. 

“You are shorter than me, you are little.” 

“For now. Doc said I’m supposed to be over six feet.” 

“Hm, we’ll see,” Tony says. “But enough about that. We have to have a little chat.” 

Harley’s heart leaps with anxiety. When adults talk about having a chat, or talking, it’s...well. It’s never a walk in the park. Or a jog for that matter, either. 

“What about?” 

“How we can help you.” 

Harley sighs, burrowing deep in his seat. 

“We have to talk about this?” 

“Yeah, we do.” 

- 

Harley gets set up with a therapist who he’s not sure he likes yet, but so far she’s been pretty nice. A bit of a mess, because she comes into their second session late and with iced coffee. 

“Oh shit, I should’ve asked you if you wanted something,” Joan says, fretting. “Um, hi Harley. How are we doing?” 

“Um, fine? I guess? For someone who’s dealing with a lot of change?” 

“Oh, that’s great to hear. Do you mind...?” She breathes for a minute. “There was a really cute girl in the elevator for the dentist office above me, and I had to avoid her so that I wouldn’t talk about things and ruin things, so I took the stairs. Do you mind if I just drink my coffee for a moment?” 

“...knock yourself out.” 

So they sit there for a few moments, while Joan catches her breath and Harley wonders if he can text her his coffee order later. 

“Alright, let’s talk you, Harley.” 

- 

Therapy goes well. As well as it can go, honestly. 

And Harley? Well, he settles. 

And he notices things. 

Rhodey is still with them, two months and three weeks in. This is his last week, and Tony is miserable although he won’t say anything. 

Harley notices how Tony will automatically move closer to Rhodey, and Rhodey welcomes him into his space as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

They bicker at each other, but Rhodey slides scrambled eggs onto Tony’s plate as he argues, and Tony leans over and grabs the coffee mug that Rhodey favors. 

- 

Apparently, they’re not together. 

This leaves Harley very confused. 

Tony gets all flustered and in denial when he asks about it. 

“Why would...why would he...why would he be with me?” Tony asks, moving around the kitchen. “He has more to life than that. Now come on, get your shopping list together, kiddo. I’m not gonna hear you complain for another week that we didn’t get your pumpkin-carving-coffee-creamer-whatever.” 

“It’s pumpkin spice, and you would know that because you pretend like you don’t use it.” 

“We’ll get two bottles this time,” Rhodey says, only coming in on the tail-end of the conversation. “Tony, babe, remember to get the provolone slices when we’re there for the deli sandwiches.” 

“Got it, honey.” 

Harley stares. 

They’re so...domestic. 

Harley hasn’t seen that often. Certainly didn’t see it with his parents before his dad left, and his mother...she didn’t get to have that with anyone else afterwards. And his sister, oh god-

“Kiddo, you okay?” Rhodey asks. His hand is on Harley’s shoulder, eyes full of concern. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“Just...just thinking about my mom. And my sister.” 

Rhodey brings him into a hug. 

Harley breathes in and out for a moment, absorbing the clean smell of Rhodey’s shirt and focusing on the touch. 

“Okay. Okay. I’ll be fine. Let’s go, before Tony gets to choose the car and we have to fit fifteen bags into a Maserati.” 

“Then we’ll have to leave you at the store,” Rhodey teases. “Let’s see if we can get a rational car.” 

-

Grocery shopping is...it’s nice. It’s one of Harley’s favorite things to do, as boring and uninteresting as that may be. 

He mostly just likes watching Tony and Rhodey do it. It’s entertainment, and they’re so practiced together. 

Harley isn’t sure if his mom and his sister are still looking on, but he always gets their favorite snacks, just in case. He puts a bag of hot fries and a carton of strawberries into the cart, and then he grins as he finds Tony and Rhodey still arguing over whether or not they should get two bundles of green onions for the Wednesday dinner or not. 

“Come on dad,” Harley says, throwing the extra bundle into the cart. “It’ll be good, and we can probably make some sort of soup garnish for the end.” 

He moves the cart, and he doesn’t even see how Tony and Rhodey stare after him. 

“So obviously, I’m dad,” Tony says. “That’s me.” 

“Or is it?” Rhodey asks, faking suspicion. “We don’t know until a full investigation is launched.” 

“Oh full investigation my ass,” Tony says. “Come on, before he leaves us in the dust and ends up getting far too many packages of candy.” 

“Like you minded, heathen.” 

Tony pushes off the grocery cart, and Rhodey has to smile for a moment. 

He’s going to miss this. He only has a few days left, and then he’s back and he’s alone, and he’s not alone, but he...

Rhodey always misses Tony. He’s tried to convince himself over the years that it’s just what best friends do, but he doesn’t think that best friends think of each other in the way that he thinks of Tony. 

And now there’s Harley. 

Harley, who is so much like Tony, and so good. He smiles, and he jokes, and Rhodey now can’t imagine life without him. 

He doesn’t want to miss out on a thing, honestly. They’ve already joked about teaching him to drive in New York traffic. 

And he wants to come home. He has his own place in New York, honest to god doesn’t know why he pays rent on it since Tony usually has him stay over anyways. He should sub-let or rent it or sell it. That’d be common sense. 

-

Dinner goes well. Both Rhodey and Harley have a good rhythm in the kitchen, even with Harley’s questionable music taste and Rhodey’s inability to follow a recipe. 

“People who follow recipes are chumps,” Rhodey says, dumping more garlic powder into the mixture. “Never follow a recipe.” 

“We can call your mother and ask about the blueberry crumble incident of 1997,” Tony says innocently. “If you want to rehash how well that advice went for you. I recall a nearly-burned-down-house?” 

Rhodey scowls, turning to Harley. 

“Don’t listen to a word this man has ever said, he is an unlovable scamp.” 

“Oh really?” Harley says. “Seems to suit you just fine, right?” 

Rhodey momentarily pauses, and then grins. 

“I suppose you’re right.” 

All too right. 

They eat dinner, and Tony as well as Rhodey make no mention of what’s going to happen come Saturday morning. 

At least, until Harley does, because Harley does things like ask questions. 

“So. When are you going for your next mission?” Harley asks. “And where?” 

“Classified, and seven a.m. bright and early Saturday morning,” Rhodey states. “You gonna get out of bed in time to see me off?” 

“Mm, we’ll think about it,” Tony says, biting into the pasta. “The beds are awfully comfy...” 

“Aw shut up,” Rhodey whines. “Just for that, I get to choose the movie, and I’m choosing the not-movie. I’m choosing the BBC Pride and Prejudice.” 

“You suck,” Tony groans. “If you weren’t a gorgeous man, I would have kicked you out decades earlier.” 

“You make us sound ancient.” 

“That’s because you two geezers are,” Harley says, taking his dish to the sink. “Come on, I totally dibs on getting the mint candies.” 

“Absolutely not, you stole them all last, at least let us portion them out,” Tony says. 

“Do we not live as a family? Can we no longer share things?” Harley cries out dramatically, draping his body across the couch. “Am I reduced to nothing but a pretty face?” 

“I don’t know where you get your dramatics from,” Rhodey deadpans. “Truly, I don’t.” 

Harley pokes his tongue out, and gestures for them to come over. 

“We can wash dishes later, we need to see if Mr. Darcy comes back,” Harley says. 

“You know he does,” Tony says, looking over at Rhodey. “He always will.” 

It means...something. They’re not sure what, and they’re not going to ask each other while Harley is busy commandeering the couch and wiggling his way into getting the best blanket. 

Tony on one side, Rhodey on the other, although the latter is busy popping popcorn and thinking. 

He doesn’t even really want to go. He signed up for this tour, and he wasn’t honestly thinking it was going to be his last, but with Harley now, and with how life is going...would it be a bad thing? 

Tony’s always wanted him to do at least consulting work for SI, and he could semi-retire comfortably... 

“Honey-darling!” Tony calls, “the ETA on popcorn? I’m getting desperate!” 

Harley sends Tony a sneaky look, and looks back towards the movie. 

“You should remind Rhodey to get chocolate chips,” Harley says. “You know he likes them.” 

“Of course I know that, how do you know that?” 

“You usually get the popcorn,” Harley says with a shrug. “I know what you know about him. And you know a lot, don’t you?” 

“I...I suppose,” Tony says, getting up. 

Harley settles into his spot on the couch. 

Tony comes up to Rhodey. 

“Remember your chocolate chips,” Tony says. 

Rhodey looks surprised. 

“I thought you hated how sticky they got your hands.” 

“That’s what napkins were invented for,” he says with a laugh. “I’ve been dealing with your chocolate chips for years, haven’t I?” 

“I guess,” Rhodey says. “Just like I’ve been dealing with the fact that you pretend like you don’t like it, but you steal all of it.” 

“Lies and slander, dearest,” Tony says, and Rhodey grins smoothly. 

“Get back to the kid, sweetheart. I’ll be there when all of this is done.” 

And it sounds so goddamned domestic. As if it’s real, as if they’ve been doing this song and dance for years. And they have, but it’s never been...

It’s never been real. Sure, they’ve waited on each other when Rhodey leaves or Tony travels, and they fall in together in a nice and easy rhythm. 

But Tony...he’s a Stark. He needs a good reputation, and while most wouldn’t say his reputation is exactly good, there’s a lot that the public can forgive. Rhodey is not part of that. 

Tony thinks that Rhodey deserves someone better. He knows it, knows it in the way that Rhodey smiles and it’s the best damned thing he’s ever seen, knows it in the way how his eyes track people who need help the most. 

- 

Harley knows virtually none of this. The only thing he knows is that his guardians are the stupidest people on the planet, and now he has a side project besides school and by god it’ll be fun. 

But first, Rhodey is being sent off. Tony’s hands are wandering all over the place, as Harley’s noticed they do when he’s nervous. His do the same. Tony is talking about everything and joking about changes, and Rhodey smiles and nods and they both know what is going to happen. 

Harley, for his part, mostly just tries not to doze off because it’s too early for any of this but also he wants to remember this. 

Rhodey will be gone for one month and three weeks. According to Tony, this isn’t the longest he’s ever been away, but usually he’s not gone for this long. The older he gets, the shorter the missions or projects get. But they need his expertise with rookies. 

Tony, for his part, has packed about three extra bags for Rhodey under the guise of them being “goodie bags” or the army to peruse after Rhodey. 

“I won’t need all of these fancy pieces,” Rhodey says, rolling his eyes. “I’m not even leaving the US this time, cupcake.” 

“You saying you can’t be in danger when you’re here?” Tony asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Take the stuff dad,” Harley says exasperated. 

“Ha!” Rhodey teases. “So I’m dad!” 

“You both are,” Harley says. “You’re both dad.” 

They grin at each other, at least until Tony furrows his brow. 

“Then how will we know which one you’re talking to?” 

“I’ll come up with a different name then,” Harley says. “I don’t know. Let’s not talk about this while you’re supposed to be boarding a jet.” 

Rhodey shrugs, leaning in for a hug from Harley, and facing Tony. There’s something in his eyes. 

“Stay safe,” Tony says. “Promise me that.” 

“I don’t make promises,” Rhodey says, a smile playing at his lips. 

“For anyone else,” Tony finishes, grinning. He brings him into a hug, probably holding on for a touch longer than necessary. But he’s leaving, so you can’t fault him for it. 

Harley is smiling to himself as Rhodey whispers something in Tony’s ear, which causes him to widen his eyes in delight. 

“Seriously? You’re serious.” 

“As a heart attack.” 

Tony cheers for a moment, before they hear a shout across the tarmac. Rhodey gives a lazy salute. 

“Until one month and three weeks.” 

“Until then, nerd,” Harley shouts. 

Tony blows a kiss, and Rhodey “catches” it and puts it in his pocket. 

Harley sends Tony a look as they’re driving home. 

“So. What did Rhodey whisper in your ear?” 

“He’s going to move in,” Tony says, grinning. 

“He doesn’t actually live at our home?” Harley asks, absolutely flabbergasted. “There’s no fucking way-” 

“Language!” 

“You said ‘shit’ during breakfast, if anything this is just leveling the playing field-” 

“Don’t care, you’re a small child. What would the public say if they knew I was teaching my boy curse words?” Tony says dramatically. 

“They’d probably not be surprised,” Harley answers. “Didn’t you tell the paparazzi to ‘get fucked’ when they ambushed our dinner last month?” 

“Not the point.” 

“Or is it?” 

“You’re detracting from the fact that you get to help me get rid of all of Rhodey’s ugly furniture in his apartment.” 

“Seriously?” Harley whines. “No, I’m...doing something.” 

“Doing what? Eating hot fries on my couch and getting it stained with spicy cheese dust?” 

“...no.” 

“Hm, thought so. You’re coming with me.” 

- 

Rhodey isn’t expecting to miss home as fiercely as he does this time around. He’s irritable, but he finds comfort in talking with some of the other members of the crew about kids. 

“Didn’t know you had a kid,” Hicks mentions. “When did that happen?” 

“About six months ago,” Rhodey answers. “Kid needed a guardian, Tony stepped up to the plate. He’s a real neat kid, really a genius. Just like Tony, in that way.” 

“You live with Tony, finally?” Thompson asks. “Or do you still have that dinky bachelor pad?” 

“I’m selling it,” Rhodey said. “I told Tony I’d help out with Harley, and that’s what I’m doing. Figure since I’m always over there anyways, might as well move in.” 

“I’m surprised you didn’t move in sooner, what with you and Stark anyways,” Thompson remarks. 

“What do you mean?” Rhodey asks. 

“You’re...not together?” 

Rhodey looks away, a bit sheepish. 

“Uh...no. We’re not.” 

“But you wanna be,” Owens teases from her corner, eating her sandwich. “You stupid lover-boy.” 

“Aw shut up,” Rhodey fires back. “As if you aren’t all over your husband when you get back.” 

“But I, my dear old man, am married,” Owens says. “Put a ring on it! God knows you should’ve, like, eight years ago. Have you even asked him on a date?” 

“He has other options, and a life outside of me,” Rhodey says. 

“Bullshit,” the team crows, laughing. Rhodey just shakes his head, and bites into his sandwich. 

He misses them. 

-

Harley and Tony miss him equally as much. Tony is down in the dumps, sulking in his lab while Harley attempts to rebuild a projectile weapon. 

“Do you have a permit for that?” 

“Do I need one?” Harley asks. “I’m not gonna take it anywhere, except maybe when I’m in trouble.” 

“When will you be in trouble?” 

“...you’ll know.” 

“Please tell me you’re not going to be on national news.” 

“Just on regional, don’t worry.” 

Tony sighs. 

“Rhodey is going to want to witness that, so can you wait?” 

“...potentially.” 

- 

Rhodey gets letters from the two of them. He thinks it’s Harley’s idea: after all, Tony would simply just hijack the internet feed and yell at people until Rhodey was called for. 

He gets two pages from Tony with his elegant writing, the writing that almost never comes out because he remembers that Tony was taught how to write in blocky, all-caps letters that he was fond of now. 

Harley writes in chicken-scratch that is barely legible, although he mentions that he’s been learning about lettering from Tony. 

Tony misses you a lot, by the way, Harley writes, he’s been playing all of your favorite songs, and I didn’t know that you liked Three Dog Night. Interesting. 

It’s not surprising that Tony knows and plays his music, not really. But Rhodey is still pleasantly surprised that even when he isn’t physically present, Tony keeps a piece of him around. 

Similarly, Tony writes about Harley. 

The kid misses you, honey. He’s been compiling a list of things he wants to do when you get back. You’re better at hugging him, by the way. Today (well, Wednesday for you) we had a good cry session. Wish you were there, but we made do with what we had. Why did you take your sweatshirt, by the way? Stupid man, now I can’t wear it and drape myself across couches like a scorned widow. Honestly...

- 

Rhodey comes back on a Tuesday morning. Harley’s allowed to miss school for it, which he’s very happy about. 

“That doesn’t mean you get to sleep in,” Tony says. “We’re picking him up at eight.” 

“Why must I be punished for all time,” Harley moans. “Eight? Seriously? Doesn’t the army know that noon exists?” 

“They made up the early rule because of me,” Tony jokes. “But I promise that Rhodey will most likely want an actual breakfast, which means we get diner breakfast.” 

“Yes!” Harley says, pumping his fist. “Waking up early just became worth it.” 

“Yeah sure, just look at the emails your teachers sent you about missing homework and be sure to text Peter and Ned about the classes you missed,” Tony says. 

Harley nods, walking out of the kitchen before pausing and turning back. 

“You should wear that Black Sabbath shirt that Rhodey likes tomorrow,” he says. “It’ll be nice for him to see.” 

Tony raises an eyebrow. 

“And since when did you know what Rhodey likes to see?” 

“Since I was born with vision,” Harley deadpans. “He always picks that shirt out for you when you come back after a business meeting overseas.” 

- 

Waking up at eight a.m. is worth it for a hug from Rhodey. Honest to god, that man gives the best hugs Harley’s ever had, short of Abbie and mom. 

Tony is asking a million questions a minute, and then telling Rhodey about the results of the apartment. A Stark Industries employee is renting it, and Tony managed to save some of the mugs, and chastised Rhodey for stealing a colander, apparently. 

“It was our good one! Why did you leave it in your apartment?” 

“I thought I stored it where we put the pans!” Rhodey defended. “How was I supposed to know that it was at that apartment?” 

“Quit arguing and start moving,” Harley says. “We have breakfast to get to.” 

“Our boy is growing,” Tony says, sighing. “Soon he’ll eat us out of house and home.” 

“We live in a gigantic tower in New York, I think you’re gonna be fine,” Rhodey says. “Although let’s get on it before there’s too much of a wait.” 

“It’s a Tuesday, darling,” Tony says. “No wait. And they know us.” 

- 

Harley enjoys witnessing breakfast. Basically because Tony and Rhodey fall into their respective rhythms as if no one had ever left. Rhodey is fighting about the hash browns, and Tony is reaching all the way across the table for the hot sauce. 

Harley has honestly and truly missed them all together like this. 

Even if Rhodey nabs a sausage from his plate. 

“I’m the growing teen here!” Harley says, gesturing with his fork. “Why steal from your poor, innocent charge? Was it not enough to leave for a month and three weeks?” 

“And three weeks! Honestly honey,” Tony says, distracting Harley enough to steal the other sausage off of his plate. “You should’ve been here sooner, we could’ve eaten more of these!” 

“You both are criminals,” Harley says. “Criminals who I have to live with. This is unforgivable. I’ll waste away into nothing...” 

Rhodey laughs, and he catches Tony’s eyes. 

Yeah. It’s good to be back. 

- 

Living with Tony and Harley isn’t really an adjustment at all. Rhodey had barely used his apartment before, and now is no different. He just gets to decorate his room a little bit more, and contribute more to groceries. 

He’s also around for more of Harley which is...interesting. 

The kid knows something, that’s for sure. 

He is also sneakily good at making sure that Tony and Rhodey get alone time, whether that be last-minute-ditching plans with Pepper or “forgetting” that he was supposed to be going to Ned’s for a video-game championship. (Harley was good at lying, but Tony and Rhodey have had years of practice.) 

Rhodey has a sneaking suspicion that he knows why. 

Harley isn’t a stupid boy, not by a long shot. 

He’s caught on to Rhodey’s stares, the way that Tony and Rhodey have something, but neither really want to acknowledge. 

To acknowledge means to know, and knowing is something that is far more terrifying than most people give it credit. 

- 

Harley eventually has help. 

After all, he and Pepper didn’t just go their separate ways when he ditched his guardians to give them quality dates, and he didn’t just talk about video game strategy with Peter, Ned, and MJ. 

He was planning. Figured it would fit with a life plan, honestly. 

Pepper is quite potentially even more tired than he is, and has agreed to help set up a nice date. 

She’s made deals she never expected to. 

She owes the god of mischief a bottle of wine. It’s ridiculous. 

Peter and Ned have been elected with getting the “aesthetic” right, and MJ has been “helpfully” suggesting where lights go. 

“MJ, if I move them any more left they’ll fall off the building and become a hazard,” Harley grunts. 

“Exactly. Nothing says romance like dangerous situations,” she says with a shrug. “But put them in the tree, and we can link the extension cord behind. It’ll look nice. All Pinterest-y and shit.” 

“Why can’t you help and then joke?” 

“I never joke. You just always like my second plan better.” 

“I don’t know whether to be terrified or alarmed!” Peter calls from his spot of building the cheese-board. 

“They’re synonyms,” MJ says. “When are we going home, by the way?” 

“As soon as Rhodey finishes up with his afternoon run, and Tony realizes that dinner is still a social concept,” Harley says. 

“Time, then?” 

“...five-thirty.” 

“Perfect.” 

“I’ll call my mom about the pizza,” Ned says. “We still thinking one pepperoni and one veggie?” 

“Sounds great,” Peter says. “What movie are we watching tonight?” 

“Twitter polls said Clueless over the Leonardo DiCaprio version of Romeo and Juliet. Sorry Ned, looks like your choice will be next week.” 

“My heart hurts, but it understands,” Ned says sagely, placing a hand over his heart. “I will see Mercutio soon enough.” 

- 

Tony was not aware that their rooftop had lights. He doesn’t remember putting them there. 

He was also pretty sure that Harley had a question about the flight patterns of birds in relation to GPS technology in drones, and it was weird that it was outside, but- 

There’s a cheese-board. And now he gets why Pepper made him change shirts. He knew that his shirt wasn’t ugly! 

Rhodey is standing across the way, looking at the dinner set-up and the tealights flickering gently from their placement. 

“Is this...did you do this, Tony?” 

“I don’t have this much of a creative eye,” Tony says, eyeing the intimate table placement. “Maybe Pepper?” 

“She doesn’t do lights...” 

“Harley,” they both say in unison, laughing. 

There’s a note at the table, written in the same near-illegible handwriting: 

Either get together or I get to make a Twitter thread. Your call. 

Tony snorts as he looks at the placement of everything. 

“Well...it’d be a shame for it to go to waste.” 

“Is that you saying you’re flattered, but no thanks?” Rhodey asks. 

“No,” Tony says, looking at Rhodey. “It’s not that at all, if you-” 

“You mean-?” 

“What? Is this what’s happening?” Tony asks. His breathing speeds up. He’s quite embarrassed that he can feel his cheeks turn red. He thought he got rid of blushing in ‘96. 

“I...damn it, Tony. I love you!” 

Tony stares. He just stares, and for a moment it doesn’t process, until it does. He flings himself into Rhodey’s arms, and laughs. 

“Holy shit, that’s a relief.” 

Rhodey spins him around, taking a brief moment to kiss him gently on the cheek. 

“Oh, you owe me more than that, soldier.” 

“I think I’m a little bit higher ranked than that.” 

“Oh, and what would that be?” 

“Boyfriend, for one.” 

Tony rolls his eyes. 

“We’re, like, a minute into this and you’re already the cheesy one.” 

“Well one of us has to be, and I’m going to beat you to the punch.” 

- 

Harley gets one text at four in the morning from Rhodey: 

no twitter thread for us. and you need to figure out what to call tony because i’m claiming “dad.” 

Harley cackles, grinning. 

got it, he’ll be pops then. 

Tony texts Harley a minute later. 

if you call me ‘pops’ there will be a mutiny! a mutiny!! 

Harley laughs again, tapping a message back. 

wotever. 

Tony doesn’t respond, choosing instead to roll back over and sling an arm around his significant other. It’s too early to be nitpicking your kid’s grammar. 

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Out Of Time ~ 107

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 4,300ish

Summary: The team figures out the monolith and tries to save Simmons

“Do something!”

“Fitz,” Y/N got up and hurried to him. She was afraid to portal, scared of what the monolith might do. “Come on.” She grabbed his arm but he tore it away. “We have to get out of here!”

“Leave me alone!” 

He turned and decked Y/N in the face, causing her to tumble down the steps and to the ground. Y/N gently touched her face, pulling her hand back to see blood.

“Fitz! Y/N!” Mack shouted, rushing to grab Fitz from the container.

“Fitz, get out of there!” Hunter yelled, getting the door.

“Are you crazy?”

“Close it!” Bobbi yelled. “Close it!”

“Y/N!” Daisy rushed over. “Oh my gosh, you’re bleeding.”

As soon as Bobbi and Hunter closed the container, the monolith turned into liquid. Everyone was panting.

“Damn it, Fitz,” Coulson murmured, coming into the room.

“I had to know,” Fitz panted. “Had to— had to know—“

“I already lost Simmons to that thing. I cannot afford to lose you or Y/N, too.”

“Trying to get yourself killed?” Hunter wondered.

“Sorry,” Fitz said. “I won’t give up. I can’t give up.”

“None of us want to, Fitz, but…” Daisy tried to say.

“Fitz,” Bobbi knelt down in front of him, “you tried. Okay? You tried your hardest. Everybody knows that.”

“No,” he shook his head. “I missed something. I m… I missed something.” He wiped something off his face.

“What is that?”

“Proof.” Fitz got up and ran to the lab.

“Y/N,” Coulson said, the others turning to face her. She was still on the ground, breathing heavily. “Oh my…” There was a long cut down the right side of Y/N’s face. “Did he—“

“I’ll be fine…” She panted. “I’ll be fine…”

“Come on,” Daisy urged, helping Y/N up. “Let’s get that stitched up.”

Daisy took Y/N to Coulson’s office and Bobbi brought all the supplies to help patch up the cut.

“He didn’t mean to,” Bobbi said quietly.

“I know,” Y/N responded.

“He just misses Simmons so much.”

“I know.”

“It hurts—“

“I know, Bobbi! Just stop, okay?” Tears formed in Y/N’s eyes. “Out of everyone here, I think I understand the most… I lost Bucky… no one could find his body… I was torn. I acted out too. That’s how I’m here… So I understand. I get that now we know Bucky’s alive, but we didn’t then. And I didn’t think he would ever come back… Honestly, at least he has hope. That’s more than I ever had.”

~~~

Fitz showed up in the office not too long later. He had a tablet in hand and pulled up his findings.

“Sand,” he stated. “Not just sand. Impossible sand.”

“The monolith’s case is a clean room,” Mack said. “There’s nothing in there but that rock. Not even dust.”

“Unless you blast it open with a shotgun and contaminate everything,” Hunter retorted.

“That’s not what this is,” Bobbi shook her head.

“Okay, the sand itself, not unusual,” Fitz continued. “Mostly silicone-dioxide particles just like on Earth.”

“Wait, are you saying…” Y/N paused. “You’re saying this sand is not from Earth?”

“Carbon dating show that—“

“It predates the Earth by a billion years,” Fitz interrupted Bobbi.

“So you think the rock is a portal?” Daisy asked.

“No. No, I’m proving that it’s a portal. Okay, to another planet, a-a very old planet. A crack in space-time that carried Simmons away… and carried the sand back. Which means…”

“She’s out there,” Coulson stated. “But it’s been months.”

“Yeah?”

“She could be long gone from wherever this thing dropped her.”

“Yeah.”

“She could be dead.”

“Yes.”

“But we’re gonna find out, aren’t we?”

“Yeah.” / “You’re damn right.” / “For sure.” / “Yeah.”

“Okay, Fitz, what do you need?” Y/N asked. “I can get Tony to bring some things as well.”

“Uh, uh, well, uh, more historical data. People have studied this thing for centuries. I need an expert on quantum mechanics and Einstein-Rosen Bridge theory. And a— a sandwich would be nice.”

“I might have an idea,” Coulson said, nodding, “about the other things.” He turned to Daisy and Mack. “You two, stay with our new inhuman guest. Be here for Dr. Garner’s assessment. Building that team is still the priority.”

“What did I say?” Daisy commented, her and Mack exiting.

“Bobbi—“

“I’m on this with Fitz,” Bobbi responded.

“Yeah, haven’t you been on this with Fitz the whole time? Hiding his trip to Morocco, covering for him on a constant basis?”

“Have I?” She smirked, walking out.

“And you know where you’re going,” Coulson said to Hunter. Hunter nodded and left.

“What about me?” Y/N asked. “I’m staying until Simmons is found. I’ve already texted Tony and he’s on stand-by if we need anything.”

“With me.”

~~~

Coulson explained that they were going to make a visit to a Professor Randolph. He was an Asgardian, hiding out on Earth. The team had a run in with him once when Y/N was on a break. Bobbi and Fitz joined them.

“I’m sorry,” Randolph said, reading a book inside of his cell. “I can’t help you.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Coulson questioned.

“Potato, puh-tah-toe.”

“And your reason?”

“The nightly news, cities flying into the atmosphere, government task forces, and now the public is freaking out about alien outbreaks. Pretty crappy time to be on Earth if you’re not a local, so I am staying low. And of course,” he chuckled, “there is my current situation.”

“Destruction of property, public drunkenness,” Bobbi clarified.

“And here I thought that Asgardians could hold their drinks?” Y/N retorted.

“Yes, well, Asgardians can generally hold their drink. It’s just, well, one night I tried to hold all the drinks.”

“Asgardians are also strong, right?” Bobbi questioned. “You could easily break out.”

“What? And miss dinner?” He chuckled. “Oh, no. Yes, norse prisons are surprisingly evolved—decent food, comfy bed, extensive library, and no attention being drawn to me. Come back in a few months, why don’t you? Maybe then I’ll be in the mood.”

“Can’t I just call in Thor?” Y/N muttered to Bobbi.

“We don’t have a few months,” Fitz stated.

“And neither do you,” Coulson said. “I don’t have to remind you that I saved your life. Though I did just mention it in case you forgot. But I’d still have no problems contacting those task forces you mentioned. I bet they’d go bonkers to have a real life Asgardian to dissect in their labs. I don’t know how comfy you’d be there.”

“Why, Agent Coulson…” Randolph said, standing up. “Are you threatening me?”

“I wouldn’t call it a… well, yeah, I guess I am. That’s absolutely a threat.”

“You’re different now. You know that?”

“One must accommodate the times or things get messy.”

“What’s with the hand?”

“Things got messy.”

“Well… you’ll have to cover my realize. And if there is a portal, which I will have to see to believe, you are diving into very dangerous waters here.”

“We live in the dangerous waters,” Y/N commented. “And have been for a while.”

Randolph exhaled sharply. “Alright. Well, it’s not like you’re giving me any choice.” 

He quickly tore off the door and the alarm started blaring. He grabbed his coat and they began walking out. Guards rushed in.

“He did it,” Randolph said, pointed at Coulson.

Coulson gave a nervous chuckle and a smile.

~~~

After talking themselves out of it, they took Randolph to the base. He walked around, observing the monolith.

“Well, I hate to disappoint, but it looks like your regular, old—“ He stopped when the monolith turned to liquid then back into a rock. “Oh. How often does it do that?”

“It’s random,” Fitz answered.

“No. No, no, no, no. It may seem random. But… something is clearly triggering it.”

“I’ve checked it against tides, relation to the sun, rotation—“

“On this planet. So you have no idea how to control it. Why come to me? I’m no interstellar-travel expert. I’ve never even studied gravitational lensing or zero-point energy fields or quantum-harmonic oscillation theory.”

“Yet you know all those words you just said,” Bobbi retorted.

“And you’re scared of portals,” Coulson added. “You’re scared of being dragged back home through a portal. Y/N?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Y/N replied with a smirk. 

She walked up to Randolph, opening a portal behind him and pushed him into it. Another portal opened on the other side of the room, causing him to exit from it.

“Impossible,” Randolph panted. “No human should be—“

“I’m connected with the Tesseract,” Y/N interrupted. “I can channel it. And I know it’s on Asgard and I’m pretty sure if I tried hard enough I could send you back there.”

“What I think, Randolph, is that in your drunken stumble through history, you’ve probably investigated every story involving a portal,” Coulson said. 

“And I’ve seen you eyeing all of your exits,” Bobbi added. “My knee brace, wondering if you can get away with it. The only reason you came with us was to confirm its existence.”

“And destroy it,” Randolph confirmed.

“You’ll have to go through me,” Fitz stated.

“And I could. Literally. But, then, I don’t know what amazon woman and robot hand are capable of these days. And don’t get me started with the Avenger over there. So I will help you get her back. I’m not entirely heartless. But if I do, I want your word that we will demolish this portal and no one passes through it again.”

“I’ll sleep better at night,” Coulson confirmed.

“Good. Well, I’ve investigated a lot of these wormhole rumors. But that’s all they were, rumors. None have panned out. So we know nothing of its origin.”

“Kree, maybe.”

“And this parchment was found with it,” Bobbi said, grabbing the paper and handing it to Randolph.

“Well, hello,” Randolph said, studying the parchment through the bag it was in. “I’ve seen this.”

“It’s a common Hebrew word.”

“Yes. What else do we know, Mr. Fitz?”

“Uh, well, the monolith changed hands a lot,” Fitz explained. “Germanic tribes, spent the hundred years’ war in France. But before the Napoleon era, it was moved again. I lost track of it somewhere in—“

“England.”

“Yeah. How did you know that?”

“Because I have seen this word carved into the walls of a castle in Gloucestershire, England, in 1853. To the plane!” Then Randolph started for the door, when no one followed he turned around. “W—am I allowed to say that?”

“Let’s all go to the plane, I guess,” Coulson agreed.

~~~

While on the flight over to England, Y/N was talking to Tony.

“Are you sure you guys don’t need my help?” Tony asked. “I could get there at the same time as you still.”

“I’m sure, Tony,” Y/N replied. “The lead we’re currently following seems solid.” Y/N sighed. “I just want to bring Simmons home so that I can come home.”

“You’ll find her. I know you will.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

From the doorway, Fitz cleared his throat, drawing Y/N’s attention to him. He looked guilty.

“I need to go, Tones,” Y/N said. “I love you.” She hung up, slipping her phone in her pocket. “You need something, Fitz?”

“Yeah, I, uh…” Fitz started, coming to sit beside Y/N. “I need to apologize… I shouldn’t have hit you back like I did. You were only trying to help… I’m so sorry.”

“I know, Fitz.” She rested a hand on his knee. “I completely understand… I was the same way when Bucky died. Or, I guess, when I thought he was dead… So I get it, Fitz. I think that’s why Coulson called me in.”

“Or cause he missed you. You and May left, he lost his hand and Simmons… I think he just wanted a little of the good old days back.”

“Sadly, after we find Simmons, I can’t stay… I need some more time. I’m doing much better than I was. But I don’t think I can ever go back to this life full time. I don’t think it’s in the cards anymore.”

~~~

Randolph led them into the castle. They looked around with their flashlights, searching for the carving.

“Yes. Yes, yes,” the Asgardian exclaimed. “I came here for a costume ball. That was the pretext, of course, ‘cause I had heard rumors of travel to the stars. Found it all to be nonsense. But it was a fun party.”

“The carvings?” Coulson questioned, trying to get back to the point.

“Oh, right, right. Of course. So I was here admiring the stone work, and…” 

Randolph turned and shined his flashlight on the stones over the door. There was the word, carved in to one of the stones.

“The same as the scroll,” Fitz stated. “Death.”

“Maveth,” Randolph clarified. “Yeah, one of its translations is actually ‘death by punishment’.”

“Could mean no trespassing,” Coulson suggested.

“A Hebrew warning carved in an English castle struck me as odd. Out of place. Seems ancient.”

“But you stopped looking into it?” Y/N asked.

“A man dressed as an owl, of all things. I got him drunk enough to admit that no travel to other worlds was even occurring. Just ritualistic killings.” Everyone continued to look around as Randolph talked. “En, the whole thing stunk of half-baked satanism. Just some fabrications to entice new members. And, well, there were fire dancers. I got distracted.”

“Here’s another one,” Coulson called. “This is why I got rid of all the SHIELD logos on our vehicles. It’s like screaming for attention.”

“About time,” Y/N muttered.

“You know, there’s an ginormous eagle symbol on top of our jet,” Bobbi pointed out.

“Yeah,” Coulson agreed. “Sometime I can’t help myself with the cool.”

Coulson then pushed a stone in the wall, causing part of it to open up. Revealing a passage way.

“You certain about this?” Randolph asked. “It does say death by punishment.”

Fitz and Y/N went in, examining the walls. They made their way down the passage. Eventually it led to a round room, with old equipment in it.

“Okay, well, this wasn’t on the last tour,” Randolph said. “It’s an odd shoe for architecture this period. Definitely built after I was here.”

“Reminds me of the bunker under the Louvre,” Bobbi commented.

“What? There’s no bunker under the Louvre. That’s a joke, right? You messing with me.” Bobbi simply glanced his way and walked to the other side of the room and Y/N chuckled. “Alright, great. Now I’ll have to check.”

Fitz knocked on the metal he was studying. “It’s late 1800s,” he stated. 

He pushed the lever up. Suddenly, electricity crackled and the room lit up.

“Still got some life to it,” Coulson commented.

“I hear water,” Bobbi added. “Could be a stream underground, maybe hydroelectric power.”

On the other side of the room, Fitz hit the control panel on the wall and Randolph pulled down another lever. Suddenly, a round floor panel, in the center of the room, disappeared. They all walked up to it, looking down.

“This looks a lot like it was made to hold—“

“The monolith,” Fitz interrupted Bobbi. “This machine was designed to control the portal, to open and close it at will.”

“Do you know that, or is that just what you hope it to be?” Coulson asked.

“Well, there’s only one way to find out.”

Sighing, Coulson pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Mack, I need you to load something onto Zephyr One and bring it to us.”

“What exactly am I bringing, sir?” Mack against on the other end of the phone.

“Yeah… you’re not gonna like it.”

~~~

It wasn’t long before Mack and Daisy arrived with Zephyr One and the monolith was being lowered into the hole. Fitz and Randolph were getting the systems working. Bobbi was guiding the container down, monitoring the monolith on the tablet she was holding.

“Zephyr One,” Bobbi called into the comms, “you’re clear to retract.”

“Wow. Room full of ancient gack,” Mack commented as him and Daisy entered the room. “Kind of reminds me of your office, director.”

“Realistically, what are the odds of this thing working?” Daisy asked.

“If we were realistic, we never would have gotten this far,” Coulson said.

“With anything,” Y/N added.

“Well, Andrew Garner thinks I need to be more so,” Daisy said. “He recommended three months observation and counseling before reassessment for Joey. Says I’m reckless.”

“Wonder what he thinks about me.”

“Don’t take it personally,” Coulson said. “He probably just meant that—“

“He said you’re desperate,” Daisy added.

“What? He didn’t say that. Did he say that?”

“I can read minds, Phil,” Y/N said. “He definitely said that.”

“You can read minds, too?” Randolph pipped up. “Why is the Tesseract gifting you all these things?”

“Long story.”

“Let me guess,” Bobbi came up to them. “I’m struggling to come to terms with physical limitations and losing my sense of self instead of redefining it.”

“No,” Daisy said. “He didn’t mention you.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, he did. That’s what he said.”

“Oh, good.”

“Yeah.”

“Mack,” Fitz called. “Mack, push that lever.” Mack turned to a lever. “No, the one— the one that’s— the one that’s down. The one— the one beside it. Push it.”

Mack did as directed while Fitz did the same thing on the other side of the room. The gears starting turning, the machine started working. The room began to tremble and the monolith turned to liquid.

“Fitz, it’s working!” Y/N exclaimed.

Fitz knelt down beside the whole, pointing a flashlight into it.

“It’s staying open,” he stated. “Light! I need more light!”

The trembling began to get to Daisy. Y/N watched with concern as she groaned and put her head in her hands. She went over.

“Daisy?” She quietly called. “Daisy, what’s happening?”

“We got a problem!” Mack shouted.

“I need some bloody light!” Fitz yelled.

“Fitz!” Coulson called, tossing him a flare gun. 

Fitz shot it through the monolith. Daisy held her head as she began panting.

“The gears have locked!” Mack yelled. “Bobbi!”

Y/N’s eyes grew wide as she saw blood coming out of Daisy’s nose.

“Daisy!” She exclaimed. Y/N caught her as she fainted, slowly lowering her down. 

“Skye?” Coulson called, coming up beside them. “Hey.” The trembling and machine stopped. “Skye, are you okay? Skye?”

“It’s Daisy,” Daisy replied softly.

“What?”

“It’s Daisy now,” Y/N responded.

“You’re really having a hard time with this, huh?” Bobbi wondered.

“Damn it,” Coulson muttered. “Yeah. Daisy, hey.” Daisy lifted her head up. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” she replied. Y/N helped her sit up. “I’m better. That pulsing sound was killing me.”

“What pulsing sound?”

“Are you serious? It was deafening.”

“The vibrations,” Y/N whispered. 

“What?”

“The vibrations. You can sense them. And there was so many, that it was too much for you. It’s kind of like, how if you’re all thinking at once, especially about a similar think, I can sense it.”

“Maybe, Y/N’s on to something,” Bobbi agreed.

~~~

The team was currently trying to find a way to put the machine back together.

“It’ll just rattle apart again,” Fitz stated. “We have to reinforce the connections.”

“Reinf— look, most of the workings are under the ground,” Mack said. “We just can’t tear the castle down. And actually, we’re lucky the room is shaped this way, or the machine might have shaken it apart on top of us.” The two bent down to try and pick a piece of the machine up.

“Wait. Wait. Yeah, yeah, yeah. That’s the point. Quantum harmonic oscillation theory, like the professor said.”

“I know that look,” Bobbi commented.

“It’s a strange shape for this time period because it’s made to resonate, uh, to—to—to—uh— create a-a quantized field within the stone.”

“Fitz, you’re talking, but we’re not totally following,” Coulson said.

“The room is a speaker. The machine is an amplifier. Uh, a sub—subsonic frequency to resonate with the monolith.”

“You saying you figured out a way to fix the machine?” Mack asked.

“No. I’m saying I figured out that—“

“We don’t have to,” Daisy said, glancing at Y/N. “I can do it. I can open the portal myself.”

“Daisy, no,” Y/N said. “It’s too risky.”

“If I can open the portal and help save Simmons, then I’m doing it.”

~~~

The team added a frame with a lot of rope, to lower some into the portal and bring them back.

“Well, turns out we’re standing in the in the middle of the world’s largest subwoofer,” Randolph stated.

“Yeah,” Mack agreed.

“If the point of the machine was to resonate the room at a certain frequency,” Daisy said, “I can do that.”

“And you can replicate it?” Coulson asked.

“Kind of drilled into my brain.”

“And it could kill you,” Y/N stated, not at all happy with this plan.

“How long do you think you can hold it?” Coulson asked. 

“Maybe a minute,” Daisy responded.

“If it’s too much, you pull back. I can’t lose you, too.”

“I got this.”

“Here we go,” Bobbi said, reentering the room with a machine. “Camera and data sensors are hard-lined back to us through a cable. No signal loss that way.” She clipped it onto a cable to be lowered into the portal. “If Daisy can hold it, we’ll get a visual of the other side.”

“That’s what we’re looking for,” Coulson said before turning to Daisy. “Alright, you listen to me. You take care of yourself. We lose that probe, nobody cares.”

“Uh, I’m confused,” Randolph spoke up. “What exactly is she planning to do here?”

Allowing her space, everyone moved as Daisy readied herself. She held both arms out to the sides, causing the parts of the old machine to tremble.

“Sorry,” she strained an apology. “Still tuning.”

After getting the right tune, she aimed at the monolith. Causing it to turn into liquid. 

“Hold it open as long as you can,” Fitz stated.

Everyone turned to him. He had clipped himself onto the cable. He ran towards the liquid monolith.

“Fitz, no!” Coulson shouted.

But Fitz jumped into the monolith, disappearing.

“I’m going in after him!” Y/N yelled. 

“No!” Coulson held her back. “I can’t lose you anymore than I already have.”

“But I’m the best chance to get back if Daisy can’t hold it long enough.”

“You don’t know if you can do that.”

“And you don’t know if I can’t.” They stared at each other. “If Daisy looks like she’s ready to give out, I’m going in. And no one can stop me.”

The trembling and the cable rope moving was causing the structure that was keeping it steady to lose up. Mack, Bobbi, and Y/N all quickly grabbed onto a different piece, trying to keep it steady.

“Damn it. Pull him back,” Coulson ordered, rushing around to where the cable was. “Get him back here.” He pulled the lever and the cable began spin back up.

“I can’t hold it!” Daisy shouted.

“Y/N, don’t! We can’t lose the both of you!”

Before Y/N could jump, Daisy stopped the trembles and the monolith burst into pieces. Every looked down in the hole, hoping, praying, for something to give. Suddenly, Fitz uncovered himself and pulled Simmons up. Daisy fell to the ground, Mack and Y/N rushing to her.

“You did good, tremors,” Mack said. “You did good.”

~~~

Y/N brought everyone onto Zephyr One quickly. Simmons needed to be checked out immediately and Fitz needed to be monitored in case of radiation. They laid Simmons in the containment module, hooked up to IV’s and allowed time to rest. Randolph and Y/N were standing outside as Coulson came to update them.

“They’re gonna be okay,” he informed. “No sign of radiation or infection. Fitz would never have found her, but she saw the flare. We brought a woman back from the dead today.”

“Yes,” Randolph agreed. “And, happily, you kept up your end of the bargain. The portal is destroyed.”

“Thank Daisy for that.”

“Yeah. Agent Coulson… what exactly is Daisy?”

“The call themselves inhumans.”

He looked surprised. “I have not heard that word in a very long time.”

“You know it?” Y/N questioned.

“I know more about them than I do you. You are something else… The Tesseract you said, that’s how you get your abilities?”

“Part of them.”

“Interesting.”

~~~

They were landing at the base when Y/N pulled Coulson aside.

“You’re leaving,” he stated.

“I am,” she replied.

“Anything that I could do to convince you to stay?”

“No… Look, I’m sorry, Phil, that I left and May left. But sometimes you need to tap out. SHIELD can’t be everything in anyone’s life… Even yours.” Y/N pulled him in for a hug. “If you need anything like this again, I’ll be there.” She pushed herself away, walking back towards the portal she opened. “Just don’t go opening anymore portals to other planets any time soon. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Bye, Phil.”

~~~

“But she’s safe? There’s nothing wrong with her?” 

“Nothing,” Y/N shook her head. 

“Wow,” Tony leaned back. “That’s… that’s—“

“A miracle. An absolute miracle.”

“And you’re sure you don’t want to join the team again?” Tony pulled Y/N in-between his legs. “You didn’t miss it at all?”

“I missed them. But not SHIELD. Plus,” she gave him a kiss, “I wouldn’t get to do that as much as I would like.”

Tony hummed. “Good. Can you do it again?”

next chapter >

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