#I have and have had good gentle men in my life so I don't truck with misandrists

[lost-technology]

(After replies in the comments) - I sought out the blog and took a look. Part of it just seems to be Trigun reblogs and interactions, part of it is... a lot of yikes - but they do not seem to be a mere troll, just someone who is kind of yikes. Very adviseable for anyone who just does NOT have the spoons to go ahead and block. However, I'll leave myself open for now, and here is why: I really feel like people do not have a chance to change until they are exposed to multiple views of life, and if they're just outright shunned by, say, entire fandoms that they're in, it doesn't give them a chance to encounter viewpoints counter to theirs by people they might respect. In fact, it might drive up any persecution-complex they may have developed for themselves. I would know, I used to be a little conservative-Christian wanker say about 20 years ago (when I was first in this very same fandom!). Why, yes! I was one of those OG Trigun fandom-assholes on an idiot's crusade against the rampant scourge of Vash x Wolfwood yaoi! (Still don't ship it outright, but can appreciate it now). My views on life, morality, religion, etc. changed. I can tell you, it did not change because people were shunning me, blocking me, calling me garbage, wishing me "into the cornfield," borderline were "kys" with me. Sure, I deserved to be hit over the head with a dead fish, especially when I got out of line and *was* harassing people, and some of that might have woken me up a little, but what did more to help me were people just sharing their personal stories, getting to see "my podunk-mcnowhere country church pastors know nothing and have bad opinions." (Couple that with some spiritual searching, but I won't get into that). Also, I had undiagnosed / untreated bipolar disorder, so my insanity was... bad...then. Meds help. And this is why I am disinclined to outright block anyone who isn't going out of their way to harass people or to harass me. Hell, I think I've got someone following this blog - another Trigun fan that I've seen come up on the callouts for being a religious-nut/right-wing/ and *shudder* Trump-supporter. (This is pretty shitlist for me), but... I'm kind of like... "maybe you'll see something I say about something adjacent to the fandom that'll let some light in through the cracks." Not my job to save anyone, though, in the end. I feel like I'll see how it goes if they interact with me. (They may be disinclined to. Depends upon how "queer" they consider Asexuals. I'm also in my 40s - and I don't really like it when people who are only 17 interact more than reblogging my art, to be honest). But, I am really... kind of older and having been through it, I have a lot of faith in younger people to learn and grow. Holy shit, I feel a bit like Vash right now. Like "I think people are wrong, but I won't shoot them" (unless I have to, and then it'll be a flesh wound).

i’ve been seeing this person interact a lot in the trigun fandom and i would advise blocking her, she is a raging TERF and marked red by shinigami eyes

[whore-ibly-hot]

How strong is Joey? You said previously he has big man tatas

And how’d he treat his sons vs daughters? I feel like he’s accidentally lovingly misogynistic. Especially given his conservative religious upbringing. Like he doesn’t believe that darling should labor in the sun, but he doesn’t believe that darling is lesser than him because she’s a woman. Does this make sense?????

Joey's actually very good about beating back any unintentional misogyny. He has a lot of family members, but Betty Jo, one of his sisters, is probably the biggest and strongest laborer in the family. She's huge, and could probably hog tie a cow and carry it into the next field if she needed. He's no stranger to women working just as hard if not harder at traditional masculine activites than men.

He tends be more gentle and allow darling to stay in the house and do stereotypically feminine chores because he just loves them so much! He thinks they're delicate, and their from the city. He doesn't want them to overwork themselves!

As far as kids, Joey is thrilled at whatever his little guy or gal is into! More of a home chores kid? Great! Wants to help on the farm? Awesome. Doesn't really want to do anything but sit and play with rocks? A little odd, but he's more than happy to join in.

The only real difference in how Joey treats kids is age. Until the kid is about eight or so, Joey will treat them like glass. Gently holding them, extremely slow and careful piggyback rides, and baby proofing the house even if they're old enough to ride a bike and swim. Once they're over eight? All bets are off. Play wrestling, swinging the kid around over his head, or throwing them into a big bale of hay from the hayloft. All if the kid is okay with it, of course.

He's excited is his kiddo is good at something he isn't. If Joey's little boy comes up to him and talks about how much he likes cooking or baking, Joey's thrilled! He's always had someone too make meals for him, and he can't cook to save his life. He's so excited that his kiddo has a hobby he can learn with them. Regardless of what his kid is into, he'll sit and listen with fascination.

Joey has had a lot of siblings, but as the youngest boy he doesn't have a ton of experience with babies. Because of this, you'll have to tell him off from time to time, as well as his other family members because of the odd things he may do. He's only ever been around baby animals, so you'll have to explain why human babies can't be held by a scruff, or why they won't start walking within a few days like a baby cow. He's a little disappointed he won't be able to have a conversation with his kid for a few years, but that doesn't stop him from talking to them.

"Mhmm, there's my big healthy lil' dumpling'. What're you gigglin' at, huh? You happy to see daddy? Are ya?"

Joey is thrilled that his family uses hand me downs so much now that he has kids of his own. Seeing his little girl in his old red truck shirt of his little boy in some big green rain boots is enough to make him cry. Expect to see him showing the kids and the rest of the town old family photos of him in the same clothes when he was little.

He's a great dad, especially in the early years. Diapers need changed? He's dealt with grosser. Babies hungry? You stay in bed, he'll feed them. You honestly don't even need to purchase a crib, because his baby is not leaving his broad chest.

"Cmon, darlin'! I'm big and soft, I'm just as good as any old crib, and Joey Jr. Here agrees. Let him stay a lil' longer? Please?"

[writeforfandoms]

Fast Car 2

Find my Simon Riley masterlist

Two years after the end of the world, you have a choice to make, and potentially a new life to settle into. One thing you definitely now have: a nemesis.

Warnings: Swearing, lots of grumbling, gentle interrogation, don't forget these guys are a trained very effective unit, dick-ish behavior, reference to cannibalism, reference to the wider zombie au.

Word count: 1k

You approached the meeting place carefully, slowly. Sure, you were planning to go with them. But that didn't mean you had to trust them. 

It wasn't terribly hard to spot three people, standing exactly where hat guy said they'd be. You didn't see tall and scary, but that was just fine with you. 

Maybe you'd get lucky and he'd been eaten overnight. 

“Took your time getting here.” 

Spoke too soon. Grimacing, you half-turned to see him emerge from his hiding spot, gun in hand but aimed away from the two of you. Small mercies. 

“I'm on time,” you defended yourself, planting your hands on your hips. It wasn't as effective given the large pack on your back, but still. 

“Means you're late.” He turned and strode off back to the others, clearly expecting you to follow him. You grit your teeth, momentarily tempted to just walk away. You didn't need a town. You were fine on your own. You could do it, keep on going on your own.

Except the empty windows and yawning doorframes of this town reminded you how hard it was to come across supplies. 

So you grit your teeth and followed him, footsteps light. 

You stepped directly in one of his boot prints, out of curiosity. His feet were much larger than yours. 

You walked a little faster. Just in case. 

Hat guy eyed you and nodded once. “We're taking the truck back,” he said. “You're in back.” 

You almost wanted to object to that, mildly outraged, but, well… all four of these guys was pretty big, in the beefy military esque kind of way. They probably needed the space. 

Still. Jerk. 

“So you're the mechanic, eh? I'm Gaz.” He held out a hand to you, and it took you a moment to remember what a handshake was. 

“Call me Soap.” He was next, quick to fall in on your other side so he and Gaz escorted you to the car. “Ye good with cars?”

“Dunno, you good with that thing?” You nodded to the big gun slung over his shoulder. 

He laughed, grinning at you. “Aye,” he confirmed. “Ye'll do just fine. In ye go.” He opened the back seat to the car you'd almost looted yesterday, ushering you in. Gaz slipped around the other side. 

Not only were they making you sit in the back, but in the middle. It had been a solid year since you'd been on a car, but you remembered how awful it was to sit in the middle seat. 

The only big plus was that the big unfriendly guy was in the front. 

“That's Price,” Gaz told you. “And Ghost.” 

So the big mean guy was Ghost. Easier to avoid him when you knew his name. 

“I'd say nice to meet you but I generally don't say that to people who almost dislocate my shoulder,” you snarked. 

“Shouldn't have messed with the car.” Ghost didn't sound the least bit apologetic. Not that you expected him to. 

Big asshole, for sure. 

“Ye traveled a lot?” Soap interrupted, breaking Some of the tension. 

“Eh. As needed.” You shrugged, uncomfortable as your shoulders rubbed his and Gaz's. “More than I really wanted to. Hard to stay in one place with cannibals around.” 

“Cannibals? Really?” Gaz sounded mildly dubious. 

“Really. Not like food is aplenty out there. Lots of canned goods are gone.” 

“We grow a lot,” Gaz said, glancing at you. 

“Not us,” Soap added with a cheeky grin. “Cannae grow shite, us. But the rest of the town, aye. Got a good lot of skills between us all.” 

“But not a mechanic,” Price interjected. 

“Least I'll have job security,” you joked, leaning back in your seat, refusing to show how uncomfortable you really were with the two men pressed close like this. “At least until everything quits working.” 

“We'll find work for ye,” Soap assured you, grinning. “Plenty to go ‘round.” 

That was not as reassuring as he intended it to be, but you didn't say so. That would just be fucking stupid, and you liked to think you weren't fucking stupid. 

“How'd you end up here?” Gaz asked, expression open, hands relaxed in his lap. Oh, he was good. Could've gone into acting, this one. 

Sure, he was acting all nice, but that was absolutely an interrogation question. 

At least he was being nice, and not threatening to break anything. 

So you told him. The short version. How you'd traveled for a bit with people, ran into cannibals, escaped with your life, and had been running from zombies ever since. 

The end of the world had made most people absolutely bonkers.

All in all, it was a pretty gentle questioning. And you couldn't blame them, not if they really were taking you to a whole town full of people. 

Price finally parked the car about mid-afternoon, and you got out gingerly, stiff from sitting still for so long. You stretched out, groaning softly as your shoulders and upper back popped. 

Ghost stood to one side, watching you. You ignored him, even as you noted yet again just how fucking big he was.

Price invited you inside, leading the way to the house. It looked well kept, at least, windows all intact, a pile of wood just visible to one side. You stepped up into the house, not sure what to expect.

The mouth-watering smell of bread and some kind of stew was not it. 

You swallowed back the obscene sound you wanted to make at just the smell of real cooked food, and wandered further in. A woman in the kitchen turned to greet everyone, smile wide and warm. 

You hadn't seen anywhere so homey, so warm, since… Well. Before the zombies, for sure.

It rather astounded you how fast they folded you into the routine, showing you where to wash up, offering spare clothes, assigning you a seat at the table. Truth be told, it left you a little wrong footed, and you kept quiet through dinner. 

So did Ghost. 

Ghost was the one that showed you to the couch, told you you'd be staying there a few days. You didn't object, still too full and happy from a hot meal. 

If they ended up being cannibals… Well, you'd die full. That wouldn't be so terrible.

[tikiface]

Since someone went and opened my fucking pandoras box of Potemkin Headcanons: MORE

Potemkin spends a lot of downtime in Zepps public parks either painting or enjoying nature, and he is a bit like a Disney princess in that he stays so still that the wildlife tends to perch or hide on him like he's a weirdly shaped tree. He's very slow, patient, and mindful, and rarely scares animals away with his movements.

He's very popular with the elderly Zeppian citizens that visit him in the parks because he is a consistent presence and enjoy how well-mannered he is. He frequently gets gifts like handmade items and baked goods from them, and they check in on what he’s painting.

Gabriel sometimes has to remind Potemkin to take more time off. He's just way too eager to keep working or even shoulder the workload of other people simply because knows he can do the work of 10 men by himself pretty easily. Has a tendency to overbook himself without thinking. Why send 20 men when he can do it himself? Gabriel has to remind him that just because he can do certain things with ease because of his gift, it doesn’t mean its his job to always be the one to do it.

Gabriel has planned and fashioned Zepps headquarters and newer public infrastructure to accommodate for Potemkins size, Like larger doors, higher ceilings, and sturdier seats in places he frequents. This also lead to more extensive accessibility infrastructure for the elderly, deaf, blind, etc as well.

Potemkins house is comically huge on the inside. everything he owns is huge to the point of being unusable to normal people, though he still insists on having tiny furniture for guests. He enjoys actually being able to cook for himself though.

He has a set of Zepp-forged unbreakable tungsten artists tools given to him by Gabriel after he became president. They are some of his most prized possessions, mostly because they are some of the first things Gabriel went out of his way to make accessible for him.

Some darker HCs

Potemkin has personally witnessed a bomb collar go off on a fellow slave trying to defect at least once. This one is vaguely hinted at by Bedmans Theatre of Pain in Xrd where he reacts by saying "Wait, Don't go! It'll explode!"

Potemkin has only been free for around 8 of the 41-ish years he's been alive. (Time between GG and Strive being 7-8 years. Apparently the only thing close to a canonical age for Pot was some beta concept page putting him at 34 in the first game.) So it's no wonder he still adjusting and has severe self worth issues.

I like to think Gabriel is between 10-20 years older than Pot. Old enough to have been in a commanding position while Pot was still a kid.

Pots limiters are actually embedded in him and at this point, are required for him to survive. Releasing them for any amount of time allows him to use his full strength but is incredibly bad for his health in the long-term.

He has to eat so fucking much just to stay calorie-neutral. He burns energy like a diesel truck and can very easily begin to starve if he's not in an environment of abundance.

He has an over-apology habit from when he had less control over his strength and accidentally broke a lot of stuff. Even worse, he has trauma from accidentally harming undeserving living beings. He treats others with extreme mindfulness and a feather-light gentleness, but to this day it still takes a huge mental toll and it exhausts him having to constantly by hyper-aware of himself for too long. This along with his introverted nature leads him to need a lot of alone time.

He feels oddly comforted by the fact that Gabriel is strong enough to easily fold him. The one person in his day-to day life he doesn’t have to worry about hurting. Someone he admires and actually challenges him.

[misspearly1]

LILY!!! 😭😭

Holy hell. I wish you could have seen me doing my little happy wiggling dance when reading through this. In fact, I wish you could have seen all my reactions when reading through this. You know me, my love. The feedback is a little long, so expect more under the cut 🥰

Ok, first of all, I have to admit that I didn't watch any youtube vids on Yellowstone yet. I did plan to, but I've read books before in the past then watched the movie afterwards and it was so fun to see the characters I read about in real life. I'm going to do the same thing here. If you don't mind, could you keep tagging me for this series? I am really interested in Ryan and Reader - I love her name too! Annabelle Dutton. 💚

I like how you started off this story in the beginning. Straight away, we are in jail with Ryan and it sets the scene nicely for the rest to unfold. Oh man, I just love anything regarding men with southern accents and reading him call her 'sugar' got me drooling!!! YOU GOT ME DROOLING WITH YOUR WRITING! Good job, my lovely.

Moving onto the next paragraph (after the divider), I like how the POV changes and we get some insight on how Ryan feels. Honestly, meeting John through his eyes made me feel nervous too! I wouldn't want to get on the man's bad said either and I'm interested in knowing more about this entire series. I want to know more about the Dad and Yellowstone Ranch & Reader and Ryan too. (If I have to watch some of the show to understand, I don't mind doing that. 🥰)

'Before John can say anything else, you drag Ryan down the stairs and towards the truck. You finally had a date with him after all this time and not even your dad could ruin it.' -- is that a little foreshadowing there? 😏 I like it!

As we moved through the story, I really enjoyed the glimpses of how she met Ryan and why she adores him so much. It's teasing me with a little information that ultimately makes me want to know more! I want to know where she has been over the years. I love when two characters find each other again after some time had passed, but that attraction never disappeared. 💚

Moving onto the smut - oh wow! You wrote it so beautifully. I love how giggly and sweet they both were. I love how gentle Ryan was and careful too (condom). I love reading a little humour in the middle of something so intimate. And this paragraph right here -> 'Looking into your eyes, his soften, the desperation giving away to something more. His lips find your again, but gone is the primal hunger, left is only love. And as he kiss you deeply, he push in.' <- Wow! Just wow! So eloquently written with a lot of love and passion.

Okay, this is what I was talking about with my reactions, because where the story went next made me clasp a hand over my mouth in shock. I knew somewhere, at some point, they're going to be arrested for something because it began with them both in jail. But it still took me by surprise and it was a nice surprise too! The condom hitting his hand is where I broke me silent shock and started laughing! Aghhh! I can picture that moment being so embarrassingly funny.

To end the story, I love how we're back in the jail cell, and even though it's not a nice place for either of them to be, it's still sweet and beautiful between them. Certainly didn't feel like Valentine's was ruined at all. I love how you wrote them exchanging those three important words 'I love you', and I especially love that you wrote Ryan saying, “I’ll make you mine one day, Annabelle Dutton.”

Oh wow! Lily, you took me on beautiful whirlwind ride of emotions with this one. And I've enjoyed ever second of it! Your writing never ceases to amaze me. I always think, there's no way Lily can top this off, this is the best thing I've ever read from her. But here we are!!! You just keep getting better and better with the storytelling.

Thank you so much for tagging me. I look forward to reading more 🥰💚

Really loving this guy now, thanks to you hehehehe! 😏

A Day to Remember

Ryan x reader

Summary: Yours and Ryan's first date doesn't exactly go as planned.

Notes: This is actually part 3 in a small series I'm making for Ryan. My brain just didn't want to get part 1 and 2 done first 🤣

So part 3 came first and are a part of the Thirsty for Cox writing challenge. The prompt was "I didn't picture spending my Valentine's in jail".

Also.... reader has a name. Annabelle Dutton. This is used maybe 3 times in all the parts I'm planning. But it's for a purpose and it's still a reader insert. No descriptions of her appearance. Thanks to @e-dubbc11 for help finding the name ❤️

Warning: fluff, kissing, dry humping, protected sex (Ryan is very responsible and very scared of John Dutton 🤣).

Stretching your back, you slowly start to feel the ache going through your body from the uncomfortable seat. The worn mattress on the bench beneath you had definitely seen better days. The coldness from the wall you’re leaned against is starting to set in and a slight shiver runs though you. Very cold and unwelcoming. As you shiver once more, you get why people hate it here.

Not long after a jacket is draped softly over your shoulders followed by a comforting hand on your head. “Well, I didn’t picture spending my Valentine’s Day in jail.” You chuckle softly, looking over at Ryan next to you. He just smiles before pulling you closer, trying to get you warm.

“Me neither, sugar, but you gotta admit. It’s a Valentine’s you won’t forget anytime soon.” He laughs, hands rubbing your arm and back gently. “And getting here was kinda fun.”

Not many things could rattle Ryan. With the life he lived on the Yellowstone ranch, he’d seen and tried it all. Deaths, fights, shootings, you name it. Yet now, he feels his hands get clammy and the nerves settling in. This was by far the most terrifying thing he’d done. Walking up to the door, he exhales sharply. Right now, he’d rather wrestle a bull than get the potential wrath of John Dutton. Still, he rings the bell.

After a long wait, John opens the door, clearly confused to see Ryan there. “What do you want? Is there a problem?”

“No. Mr. Dutton, I-” Ryan pauses, taking off his hat, nervously brushing off some dirt. “I’m here to pick up your daughter for a… a date.”

John frowns, looking over his shoulder towards the house where the voices of his family can be heard in the next room. Looking back at Ryan, confusion washes over John’s face. “Beth?!”

“No, Sir. I’m here for-”

“He’s here for me, daddy.” You sing behind him, giving John a quick peck on the cheek before snaking around him to go out the door. As soon as Ryan lays eyes on you, his smile widens. You wonder if you’ll ever tire of his smile and the way he lights up when he sees you. You take a step closer, taking his hand as a soft blush creep up your cheeks.

“Oh my. Darlin’, you look-” Ryan starts, but is cut of but your dad clearing his throat. He eyes Ryan with a killer look. He takes a step forward, looking Ryan dead in the eye. “Have her home by 10.”

“Daddy, I’m not a kid! I-”

“I said 10.” He cuts you off, before looking at Ryan again. “Ryan. That’s my baby girl. If anything happens…”

“Yes sir. I understand.”

Before John can say anything else, you drag Ryan down the stairs and towards the truck. You finally had a date with him after all this time and not even your dad could ruin it.

First stop was a spot you were all too familiar with. Ruby’s Café. It wasn’t the fanciest place in town, but it did mean a lot to you both. It was here he’d picked you up after your first drunken night, where you’d shared your first lunch off the farm and where you had first realized you had feelings for him. You had looked at him and Rip at the counter, his smile and laugh so infectious. When he locked eyes with you across the room that afternoon, you’d known right away that your heart would belong to no other.

The meal was good as always and the hours flew by. Never once an awkward moment, lots of laughs and memories shared. He tried to catch you up on everything that had been going on while you were away and you shared what you had done the last few years. Mostly you kept coming back to how much you had missed him and every time Ryan’s face lights up.

“Where can I take you now? Want a drink?” He asks as you leave Ruby’s, his voice dropping low as he closes the distance between you. One hand snake around your waist, pulling you closer. His finger hooks under your chin, bringing your eyes to his. Leaning down, your lips meet in a sweet kiss.

“No. Take me to your favorite spot instead.” You smile. A bar would be fine. You wouldn’t mind a drink, but you’d rather have him to yourself anywhere else. Ryan just smiles, his face telling you he knows exactly where to take you.

He takes you back to Yellowstone, on the outskirts of the park. Bordering on your family’s land, there is a clearing by the river. In the summer it’s a really popular spot for hikers, but there’s rarely anyone in the winter months. The weather is still a little cold, but Ryan pulls some blankets from the bed of his truck and place them on the ground. It’s all so perfect. The view over the Yellowstone, the sound of the coursing river next to you, stars above and moonlight to illuminate it all. But most importantly, Ryan by your side.

“You know…” He starts as you both sit down on one blanket, pulling the other around you. “I always dreamt of doing stuff like this with you one day.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t have taken you for such a romantic.” You tease as you nudge his side. Deep down your heart is threatening to burst through your chest, but you try to keep it cool. You love him so much and you know he cares about you too, but a part of you, the part who grew up on the Yellowstone and knows how life can be, is afraid to hope for too much.

“Only for you.” He smiles, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. “But if you tell anyone else, I will deny it.”

“Of course you will.” You giggle, kissing his jaw. The whole ranch already knows how gone for you he is. He hasn’t been the same since you came back and honestly, neither have you. Ever since you got a second shot at happiness with Ryan, your whole world has turned around. A total cliché, especially on Valentine’s day, but the world is suddenly a better place with him in it and you never want to let him go.

Leaning into his touch, you kiss him. Softly at first, savoring the feeling of his soft lips against yours. But soon the kiss turns more passionate, hungry. Within minutes you’re straddling his lap, grinding against him, needy for more. You feel him harden, his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans as you grind harder.

With greedy hands, you open his jacket, slowly moving to open his shirt. His hands are on you, moving under your jacket. The night is cold, but you don’t even feel the gush of wind on the sliver of exposed skin. You’re burning, the desire enough to keep the cold at bay. With the last button taken care of, your hands glide down Ryan’s exposed chest. But just as you reach for his belt buckle, he stops you.

“Sweetheart, maybe we should-” He breathes out, swallowing hard as he pulls away from you. “Maybe we should head home instead?”

“Yeah? To your bunk bed or my room… who’s right next to my dad’s?” You ask, cocking an eyebrow at him. Ryan opens his mouth, probably to throw a sassy remark at you, but he just stops, smiling at you.

“Well, when you put it like that.” He shrugs before breaking into a grin. The grin quickly disappears though, when you grind your hips against him once more, making him moan under you. You’re playing dirty, you know it, but you want him and the hard bulge pressing against your already soaked core tells you he wants the same.

He lays you down gently, lips never leaving yours as his hands move to the bottom of your dress, fingers moving up your thigh as they push the dress up. Needy and unable to hold back any more, you open his belt buckle and pulling the zipper down. Any other time, you’d take your time, but right now you feel like you might die if you don’t feel Ryan inside you soon. So many years wanting this and you can’t wait a minute longer.

“Eager, are we?” He grins, sucking on your neck, surely leaving a mark that you would get teased about tomorrow. But you honestly don’t care.

“Shut up, Ryan and fuck me. Please.” You beg, not even trying to hide the desperation in your voice as you roll your hips against him. Pushing away from you, Ryan sits back on his heels as he search his pockets for a condom. When he finds the little foil packet, he frantically push his jeans down and fumble with the rubber. You can’t help it and giggle softly at his desperation.

“Don’t laugh at me. The last thing I wanna do is get you pregnant. John would never forgive me.” He grins as he comes back down, hovering over you. Looking into your eyes, his soften, the desperation giving away to something more. His lips find your again, but gone is the primal hunger, left is only love. And as he kiss you deeply, he push in.

You gasp as he fills you, the stretch of his thick length beyond anything you could imagine. Slowly, he bottoms out, breathing hard at the feeling of you. “Fuck sweetheart.” He whisper against your neck, peppering your sensitive skin with soft kisses.

Little after little, he begins moving faster, thrusting into you harder. Your whole body feels alive under him and as he hits your sweet spot, again and again, you’re close to-

“Right, break it up.”

Frozen in place, you both stare to the side, finding one of the Donnie’s deputies pointing a flashlight at you. “Shit.” Ryan says through gritted teeth as the breaks away from you, making sure you’re covered. He helps you to your feet, doing his best to stand between you and the deputy until you’re decent.

“You have to come with me to the station.”

“Look, you’re clearly new.” Ryan turns and close his pants, reaching in to pull the rubber out. It springs off his cock, the end hitting his hand. He mutters under his breath, shaking off the pain, before he looks to the deputy again. “I’m Ryan. From the Yellowstone. Livestock agent. You don’t want to take me in.”

“Public indecency. There are campers on the other side of the river.”

And surely enough, further up on the opposite bank you see a small fire and some tents. Shit. You have no chance but to follow him down to the station.

“You think dad will be mad?” You ask, snuggling closer to Ryan. His hand comes to a rest on yours, rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand.

“Yes, he will.”

Looking up, you see your dad standing next to Donnie, a sour expression on his face. The door to the cell slides open and John gestures for you to follow. Eyes fixed on the ground, you avert his gaze as you walk past him. He stops Ryan in the door.

“Not you.” John removes his hand, looking into Ryan’s eyes. “I tell you to take care of my daughter and you get her arrested? You can spend the night here, I’ll send Rip after you in the morning.”

Knowing better than to argue with the boss, Ryan throws his hands up in defeat, sitting back down. Taking a hold of the bars, you look in at him with a smile. “Hi, Ry.” He looks up, those beautiful blue eyes finding yours and even now he can’t help but smile when he looks at you. Grinning, you blow him a kiss. “Best Valentine’s ever. I love you.”

“No, you don’t.” John groans, pushing you away from the bars. Ryan just grins, running to the bars, closing the distance between you.

“You love me? I love you too!” He shouts after you. Giving hell to your dad, you run back and give Ryan the biggest kiss through the bars, grinning like a fool. “I’ll make you mine one day, Annabelle Dutton.”

Before you can answer, John drags you out of the station and into his truck. The entire way home, you think about Ryan, already excited for your next date. Your dad would come around eventually… You hope… He’s a Dutton after all, so you never know.

@e-dubbc11 @itwasthereaminuteago @mindidjarin @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog

[niskoo]

Burrito run

pairing: rich kid! Jake x rich kid! reader

genre: fluff, crack, bff2l! AU

warnings: food, swearing, sneaking out (??)

word count: 3k words

a/n: my dumbass posted this on my nct acc omfg

this was originally for haechan of nct for my nct acc (@daegall) but i thought i could treat you guys to hehe

networks: @enhypennetwork

You had known Jake for more than half of your lives. Thanks to both of your rich ass parents setting you two up for a playdate at the age of 12, now you have found your rock and partner in crime. You know when he's feeling down, when he wants to cause trouble for no reason, when he has an eye for someone, heck, you know when and how to get him out of any situation when needed.

Like right now, as he gives you a side glance as he talks boringly to a group of men. All they talked about was business. Jake wanted to talk about that one burrito place down the block, he wants to get out of there and go get some. He wants to get out of this stupid high class party he has no part of.

He knows you do too, he knows by the way you keep glancing at the back door by the kitchen, and how you occasionally move to each group closer to the door. You know he catches up to the plan, how he also moves from group to group, excusing himself every 2 minutes.

You politely excuse yourself from the many unknown rich aunts who just questioned your love life, giving them a very passive smile, before turning to move to another group.

You don't get to go to another group, because you're already so close to the door, and Jake approaches you.

"Why, hello there, miss Y/n."

You feign shock at his greeting, holding a hand to your chest, "My, Jaeyun, wasn't it? It's been too long!"

Your best friend nods, playing along to the small skit you two have created, "About 2 hours, I think? You've grown very beautifully,"

You flick your hand at him, nudging his shoulder not-so-gently, "Oh stop."

You bite your lip to hold back a loud laugh when Jake winces at your harsh push at his shoulder, watching as his face twists in playful anger. You can't help but thin he looks absolutely adorable, nose scrunched up and eyes narrowed in a non meaningful glare, you ought to kiss his puffed cheeks.

You shake the last thought from your mind, bringing the elegant glass of champagne to your lips, sipping lightly at the sweet and slightly sour liquid. You then take a double check around the spacious room, to see if anyone is watching.

Your mother and father were chatting at the far corner with the parents of Jay, a guy you met earlier this evening. He looked just as bored as you. Jake's parents stood not too far from your parents, greeting anyone who approached them.

This was your chance.

Quickly, as Jake was mumbling something about you growing up strongly as well, you grab his arm. He yelps in surprise, as you drag him through the back door, lightly blushing at your gentle touch at his wrist.

The back door soon slams behind the both of you, and you are met with a large yard.

"Y/n! What if someone caught us?"

Giving Jake a side glare, you start to trudge down the flight of stairs to the garden, "You were too busy complaining about my guns to notice we had a chance to escape. You're welcome."

"You're weak!"

"Am not!"

"Are to!"

You ignore the upcoming argument you could've started, taking off your painful heels. They were absolutely stunning, but stung your feet constantly. Beauty is pain, as mother says.

"Lead the way to the burrito truck you claimed to see on the way here!"

Through the many bushes, and many guards, and even more bushes, you finally make it out the the big mansion, and into the dark streets. It's 10 in the night, you hope the burrito place is still open or your only choice left is a McDonalds about an hour away or convenience store food. Not that you minded, but you haven't had a burrito since you were 18. You had it right after graduation day with one of your closes friends who you have no idea of her whereabouts now.

The last time Jake had a burrito is about last week, the first time he met another rich kid named Sunghoon. Their parents gave them a bunch of money to go spend on expensive and top quality foods, but they both mutually agreed to get cheap burritos that would probably give them a bad stomach.

Jake takes the lead, as expected, for he was the one who spotted the food truck. He took off his blazer some time ago, you don't remember when, but with his jacket thrown over his elbow and sleeves rolled up like that, you can't help but admire.

You notice every single little thing about him, his slow, rhythmic paces, occasionally kicking stray rocks on the sidewalk. You watch as his hair slightly bounces as he kicks yet another rock, and you want to pet his hair.

There was that one time when you were 16 and you had a movie night as your parents went away for some business, he had his head on your lap, you didn't mind for some reason. At some point you had started playing lightly with a few strands of his hair, but you didn't notice. The moment you softly ran your hands through his hair, you realized, and decided to keep your hands to yourself after that. To your surprise he protested against it, claiming it was very comforting. So now every time one of you come over to the other's house, you would somehow find yourself playing with his hair, like pure human instinct.

But now as you observed your best friend more, you have a different feeling running through you as you had an urge to softly play with them once more, as if it wasn't as platonic anymore. But that was absurd. you've been friends for 10 years now, why are you just feeling like this now?

Your heart jumps in your chest when you are suddenly met with Jake's eyes, shining brightly with a slight mischievous gloss glazing over them. "Can we pick up the pace please? I'm getting pretty hungry and I know you are too."

Your heart softens as he sticks his arm out, gesturing you to come next to him. You jog barefoot to his side, instantly looping your arm with his.

It doesn't take long to find the food truck Jake mentioned, just a 10 minutes from the mansion, somewhere near the center of town. You had to drive about 2 hours to get here, and so did Jake, so it's a bit strange how he knew his way around the town so easily. You guess he just is that way.

You practically drool at the smell of savory foods that lingers in the air, sucking the saliva in your mouth.

Your best friend eyes you playfully, nudging your hip with his, "See? What did I tell you? Burrito food truck!"

You don't respond, simply grunting and dragging him to the cashier to order some food.

It takes a lot of time to decide on what burrito you'd buy, there were even tacos, and weirdly, cookies and croissants. It was your dream food truck, really. In the end, you both went for the classic burrito, nothing could beat it.

There were no seats to the food truck, sadly, so you and Jake opted to sit on the curb, legs sprawled out on the road, hopefully no cars drive by.

"You ready?" Your best friend asks you, looking at you with much anticipation. You stare at your own burrito in much more anticipation, it's been 4 years since you had a burrito. You wonder how you could survive that long.

You nod vivaciously, already opening your mouth to take a bite. Jake chuckles as he watches you take your first bite, your cheeks instantly puffing out full of the contents. You shut your eyes in bliss, licking your lips for anything left on them.

As you continue to chew, you shake your head, "Shit, I haven't had anything this good in sooo long." You exaggerate, taking yet another bite of the heavenly treat.

Jake can't agree more, he just had a burrito last week, but somehow eating one with you feels different. Especially when you don't mind him seeing and pointing out the smeared food around your mouth, simply trying to search for it with your tongue instead.

Your best friend wants to cherish this moment forever, keep it deep in his heart and laugh at it in the future when he suddenly gets reminded of it, he wants to brag about it to his friends, maybe even share it with his grandchildren, he doesn't know. All he knows is that you're it for him.

You're the one he's spent all of his teenage years with, his first heartbreak, first sleepover, first drink was with you, heck, you were his first close friend!

You know so much about him, you share so much about yourself to him, he's the one you trust. He's the first person you call out to when you're down, first person you call out to in the best of your times. It amazing how much you've been through together, and Jake thinks anything is possible, as long as it's you.

Falling in love seems so much easier than ever, especially at that moment, eating a burrito instead of the expensive caviar at the party before, just with him. And nobody else.

He wants to make you his. Not just his best friend, his lover, his soul mate, his whole world. Not that you weren't already.

"What's wrong?" you suddenly ask Jake, startling him. "You nudge your chin at the burrito in his hands, "Why aren't you eating?"

Jake flushes, realizing he's been staring at you the whole time, taking a big bite of his burrito, before looking away bashfully. "It's nothing."

You grow suspicious of his actions, watching as he swallows and bites his lip shyly. You choose to leave it there, instead bringing up your parents being out of town next week.

The conversation keeps going, from one topic to the other, swerving all over the place, but that's just how it is, talking to the person you're most comfortable with.

The conversation goes on and on until you find yourself walking along the streets blindly, fiddling with the paper packaging of the burrito you ate. You also find yourself wearing Jake's shoes instead of walking barefoot, he gave to you after you complained about walking over so many rocks, and you didn't like how your heart swarmed and beat dangerously fast as he claimed it would be better if you borrowed them for the night.

Strangely enough, his blazer he took off about and hour ago now stayed on your shoulders, keeping you warm from the cold breezes of the night. All your best friend's actions made you swoon over him, and that wasn't something you would feel often. Maybe occasionally, but not everyday.

Jake doesn't know what got into him when he took his shoes off for you, or when he draped his blazer on your shoulders, or why he took your heels and held it for you. What he does know, is that he enjoys the way your lips purse and a light shade of pink dusted over your cheeks. Or how you pull his blazer tighter around your body and sub-consciously loop your arm around his again.

You two never really got to go through the proper high school experience, your parents forced you to go to a strict school with strict rules, they didn't even have celebrations.

Jake always imagines what it would be like to go to a dance, prom, maybe? Full of fun, dancing, and definitely you. You had a similar vision. Chugging down punch or soda and dancing crazily together until you both get sick and throw up in the bathroom.

Prom was like a mutual yearning for the both of you.

God, how you would kill to have a normal high school experience.

"You know," Jake starts, "this feels like I'm walking you home after prom."

You can't stop the grin from reaching your lips, giving into it and letting out a soft laugh. Softly, you elbow his side, "Corny."

There are a few laughs here and there after that, but overall just comforting silence that goes throughout the night. The crickets that echo throughout the night are your only noises, and the few cars rushing by. You two come to a stop at a random bench by a streetlamp, settling there until you realize it's time to go back to the party.

You realize it, but you just don't want to let go of the moment.

You feel Jake hook his leg under yours, swinging them together in sync as you rest and stare into the night sky. Tonight isn't that much of a pretty night, no stars, barely a moon, but that's alright, you're enjoying the most of it.

You turn your head away from the boring black sky, instead facing the mot interesting thing you find in life. Jake is staring down at your swinging legs, smiling at the sight. He fiddles softly with your fingers, caressing and tracing them as if they were one of the most precious things in the world.

Your eyes trail from your tangled legs, to your tangled hands, all the way up to Jake's face, tracing each and every detail with your gaze. You don't remember when he matured, you only remember the fluffy cheeked bowl cut Jake when you two were still middle schoolers. Now all that cheek has become more defined, especially his jaw, you can't help but admire him. He was like a piece of art. Your favorite piece of art.

For the second time that night, you focus on his hair, and ought to run your hands through them once again. To pull him into your embrace as he rests on you, to simply relax and twirl his strands around your fingers.

It seems like whenever you're staring at his hair, Jake just startles you with his eyes, still glossy, but this time they hold something different.

They admire you just as much as yours admire him.

Slowly, as if an unspoken agreement, you lean in closer to his face. His breath close to your cheek sets goosebumps trailing your body, and his touch now on your neck warms you inside.

Your eyes flit between his eyes and lips, oh those plump, soft lips you dream of. You would never admit it, but you have had many urges to crash your own upon them.

And that's exactly what you do. Though, crash isn't the right word to describe it. They press together softly more than recklessly, pulling into a soft lock, something much more than just platonic love being poured into it. Pure bliss and love are being poured like gentle and calm rivers, the ones you find clear and beautiful in parks. It runs faster as Jake tilts your head to kiss you closer, lips wrapped up in the warmth of yours. It feels like home to him.

Jake is absolutely perfect, you decide, despite all the many nights spent together breaking down, left for each other to pick the other up, it makes him perfect.

He thinks you're the most flawless thing he's ever seen, despite all the gems and crystals he sees in most parties, you're the brightest one shining, he could never find any jewel more valuable than you.

You pull away with one last soft lock of your lips, but stay close and ghost them together. You find his eyes the shining the most you have ever seen in the 10 years you have spent with him, one different emotion fluttering behind them. Love.

You surely don't feel that big of a person when you're at these big rich parties, even if everyone knew of your name. But kissing your best friend and being the one he sees, he loves, being his, you feel like you could rule the world.

You know you're his after this. How could you not? The way he breaks out into a very bashful smile when you leave one last peck on his lips, the way he holds you so close. There was no way he couldn't be yours after this.

A week later you have a very sleepy boyfriend on your couch, his head resting on your lap as you play softly with his hair. Nothing is all that different, except for all the kisses he steals when reaching up to you. And of course, the corny lines being thrown at each other as a competition to see who can come up with the cheesiest, most disgusting pick up line ever.

"I want to wrap you in my arms and make you my baerito."

"Ugh Jake that was just straight but bad! Not even funny or cheesy!"

Jake simply laughs, and wraps his arms around you just as he claimed to have wanted to, mumbling how he agreed into your forehead.

Being in his arms, you feel like you could fight everything that would try to hurt your lover, but for now you stick to the playful pokes he gives to your stomach and sides.

[paversandplatters]

||𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚙|| (5/20)

Apocalypse! Au (TW! Minor gore and cussing)

Reader x multiple

Chapter 5: A Flock Found

They pack a wheel barrow to the brim with the newly acquired supplies they find not botheringing to leave behind much of anything, making sure to cop the twenty five gallon container of gasoline from the tool shed out back behind the building... Lord knows they'll need for the grand task ahead of them. By the time the light in the south western sky began to fade from a light gray to pink over the backwaters of the panhandle they're ready. They slip outside through the rectory's side door and creep single file along the edge of the property. Y/n takes the lead, periodically glancing over her shoulder for any sign of the herd that had crossed the highway or any sign of the group that occupied this space all too recently. She carries a glock with a full magazine just in case. The dusky air gets clammy and cool on the back of the stranger's neck as he follows them to the car. They climb in hurriedly, stowing their provisions in the rear cargo bay. Y/n kicks the engine on as the newcomer clambers into the passenger seat next to her- much to the dismay of the other two- unfolding an old dogeared map.

"They usually stick pretty close to the ocean." He says almost to himself, silently calculating the mileage between them and the gulf. "Probably should start down by Perry or Carwfordville." He senses movement ahead of them through the windshield and glances up in time to see a couple of jagged shadows emerging from the woods about a hundred yards away, drawn to the sound of their engine. Garbled growls can be heard over the drone of crickets. The trace smell of garbage on the breeze, the light and space of the outdoors is almost overwhelming to him. He feels like he's been asleep for a hundred years, locked away in that dank and dirty church- he starts to feel dizzy.

Y/n gooses the accelerator and the SUV lurches away. He sinks into his seat as they roar down the road, swerving to avoid the half dozen or so biters now skulking out of the woods blocking their path. They sideswipe one the creatures, ripping a chunk of its shoulder, splattering fresh gore across the glass of his side window.

"You get used to it." she states after he flinches in disgust. He just stares at the splatter, flecks of bone chips, and a long trail of black bile.

"I don't think anyone can get used to that ..." Nick mutters from the back seat.

Night falls and the darkness deepens behind the trees on either side of the road. Most of the streetlights in this part of the country have gone the same way as the internet or cable TV, so the road only gets darker and darker as they head south towards the steaming thickets and festering swamps of the coastal lowlands. The going is slow, most of the two lanes are crowded with rusted out wreckages ,the carcasses of cars and trucks so old now that the weeds and switchgrass have begun to grow up from their metal endoskeletons. The two young men in the rear breathe heavily, thickly, half asleep while Y/n drives and softly hums some forgotten tune. They had passed the jerky and water around a few minutes ago- their standard fare of supper- and now their bellies growl and their eyelids droop with exhaustion.

"You never gave your name..." His hushed voices rings out from the shotgun seat.

"Hadn't crossed my mind at the time, sorry about that... It's Y/n" She chuckles softly. "The one with the headband is Nick but goes by Sapnap, don't ask i don't know- the other one with the accent is George." he just simply hums in reply.

"What about you big guy? What do they call you?"

He takes a moment to regard the woman seated next to him; his head still trying to wrap itself around this complete stranger who's shown him nothing but kindness. On the one hand, she seems trustworthy enough, friendly, a good listener, courteous and capable of single handedly taking out an entire chapel full of reanimated corpses... On the other hand she seems like a walking time bomb. He'd seen her type before- they type that's too kind until something or someone breaks that trust. A hairline trigger. The sad fact is he doesn't have a large array of options. Staying in that hellhole of a church with those enslavers, listening to the groans of the dead, waiting for whatever those bastards would do next quickly loses its charm... Seeing the aftermath of her cleaning house with that knife had given him an odd charge- a cathartic release. He's also aware that he'd never be able to find the caravan on his own given the sorry state he's in. He really has no choice but to go along with her and her scruffy ass men and hope for the best.

"I don't have a name.. that is, one that I can remember.."

She desperately wants to pry, how could he not remember his own name? But the thousand yard stare and glassy gaze is enough to stop her from inquiring any further. "Well we've gotta call you something big guy." She's met with silence in response. "Alright, I guess Big Guy it is then." He offers only a meek hum in response. In an attempt to silence his own raging thoughts his eyes landed on the red bandanna tied to the rearview mirror for what was probably the hundredth time since he started on this way too long car ride.

"... What's that about?" He points to the red scarf.

"It belonged to a friend of mine a long while back, before Sapnap and George were a thing." Her hands tighten their hold on the wheel. "I was caught by 'traders' and he was stuck in the same hole as me... Couldn't have been any older than fourteen at the time. One night the compound was under attack, their front gate was breached- luckily we were kept at the very back end, so when the opportunity came we managed to escape our holding cell and I hoisted him over the wall. Told him to keep running, to not look back. He got away but I was caught again," She takes in a deep breath before resuming her story.

"I was quickly sold off to some asshole who had these two chained up for breaking into their stores... one thing led to another and we snuck out and snagged this ride... we've been moving around since." It was obvious by her tone there was a lot she was leaving out and probably for a good reason. Notably the two in the back seat were dead silent, so much so that it made the air feel heavy and dense enough to cut with a sharp enough knife. Suddenly he was wishing he hadn't bothered to ask in the first place

"That sign back there," He manages, desprate to break the heavy air "Said 'Cross city 12 miles" He glances up from the map in his lap, gazing out the side window at the stewing darkness of Dixie County Florida. "Got a feeling we're getting close."

The vast patchwork of wetlands passes in a blur on either side of them. The land oozing a low blanket of methane as gray as mold, clinging to the shadows of pine thickets and gullies like dirty lace. The air smells briny and rotten with dead fish. Every few minutes they pass the ruins of a small town or wreckage strewn trailer parks. No sign of survivors in these parts, though only the occasional silhouette of an upright corpse shambling by, it's eyes like twin yellow reflectors in the darkness.

"We can't just keep burning gas all night." Sapnap says from his place in the rear, his voice all cranked up with pain and panic "and we can't just go off of what you overheard those traders talking about- Much less go off of feelings.." Big guy just keeps a neural face.

"We're in the ballpark" He persists "Believe me they'll be hard to miss." Y/n grips the steering wheel, her jaw working overtime on a piece of gum, snapping and chewing complusively as she drives.

"How many vehicles do they have in this convoy?" George questions between wheezy breaths.

"No idea... but it's quite a few ."

"That's pretty general."

"They'll be easy to spot." He replies once more, gazing back out at the darkness. "Our best bet is to follow the coast, they like to keep close to the water.."

"Why's that?"

He shrugs. "According to those 'traders' they keep their eyes peeled for ships or any possible way they might get their asses the hell out of here. Most of the bigger boats around here have been destroyed by the hurricane that hit a couple years ago, so it's a long shot that they'll find anything..."

They're about to give up the search when they start to climb the gentle slope- at first so gradual it's almost unnoticeable - up the side of a vast malodorous landfill- the barren trash-strewn scrubland to their left reaches across miles of sandy berms, all the way down to the deserted ghostly boardwalks that wind their way along the beaches. The sky has begun to bruise pink with predawn light and Y/n has just started to say something when the Big Guy sees the first faint streaks of red dots in the distant haze.

"LOOK!" He points his large gnarled hand down at the far dunes of ashen white sand winding along the coast. The surface is so pocked and windswept it resembles the dark side of the moon.

"Where?" She cranes her neck, slowing the vehicle down to a crawl.

"I don't see anything."

"About Half a mile up there... Look at the tail lights!"

She takes a deep cleansing breath as she finally sees the caravan chugging along the coastal road in the predawn light, it looks like embers throwing up puffs of smoke in their wake.

"Holy shit, I see it." A big smile washes over her face, Glad she decided to follow through with this insane plan.

"What do you think of those boys?" The two young men in the rear lean forward, transfixed by the sight, each of them rapt and silent as they gaze at the convoy.

"What are you doing?! Blaster your horn at them," George stutters anxiously. "Don't let them get away !"

Y/n smiles to herself, in her former life she used to be fascinated by the wildlife shows, often catching them in the late night showings after work before she turning in for the night. She remembers one episode in particular, on the behavior of sheep vs the behavior of wolves. She remembers the flock mentality; the sheep moving almost as one, easily managed by a single sheepdog. She remembers the instinct of the Wolf, stealthy, patient as it and its pack creep up on the flock. She shoots a glance across the dark interior at the larger man sat next to her before turning her head to face the two sat behind them.

"I have a better idea."

Taglist

@the-wandering-pan-ace @hvrcruxes

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 13

first time readers click here 💖

TWs/Summary: In this house, we ship Reader/Tony's Rolls-Royce. Reader and Tony being dorks on a date. That's it that's the chapter. Lots of sass and Tony being Tony.

A question for my readers: Are you still invested? How's the slow burn? Is everything realistic? 👉🏻👈🏻🥺

As usual, my beta is @miscmarvelwritings . I love her.

"Nice digs, Cupcake."

"Nice ride, Tin Man."

The sass fell from my lips, warm and familiar, paving the way for our upcoming debut like the old, soft living room rug. Any awkwardness I had expected there to be left the moment I saw Tony pull up to my front gate in his Royce: the man was just that extra. The size of my estate, the five-figure outfit of mine - it paled in comparison to his own clout. 

In a world where my choices were usually distributed between stuck-up rich boys or insecure middle-class men, Tony was a fresh drink of water with his absolute indifference towards my and his own net worth.

I wasn't afraid to admire said ride, either. Being a huge petrolhead was what got me interested in engineering, physics and computer sciences in the first place. The desire for speed grew into thirst for knowledge: how to get more horsepower, how to tune, how to mod. No mechanic took an eighteen year old rich-girl seriously even when I had all the lingo right, I had to be a step ahead, at all times, if I wanted my ride to be the best. And I never settled for less than that.

"No driver?" I inquired for the reason behind the unusual behaviour. After all, a Rolls' wasn't the kind of car you drive personally. All the amenities it had, it had in the back.

"Gave Happy a day off," Tony remarked absently. I noticed the small quirk of his eyebrow, however. He was intrigued.

I decided to give it a shot. "So what, this thing packs, what, about five-fifty horses?" I mused, watching Tony nearly swerve into the opposite lane. "At two and a half tons, it's still gotta be pretty quick with that V12-turbo. How fast it go?" The satisfaction was immeasurable, as pleasant to my soul as sitting in a heated leather chair with the smell of a new car, engine quietly rumbling in front of me. And by quietly I mean, it was focus-or-you'll-miss-it kind of quiet.

"Well aren't you full of surprises, baby girl," Tony grinned; a happy, excited grin even. It made his face lose ten years of age just like that. "Zero to sixty in five and a half seconds," He said after a moment. 

"Not bad," I said, sounding impressed. I already knew that but I wasn't planning on robbing Tony out of well deserved praise for his choice in vehicles. 

"Got a ride of your own?" He asked with a smile, like he didn't know it already. No background check would have skipped my three speeding tickets, but I concur. This game was fun.

"I do, actually. It's a 2008 Range Rover. Supercharged," I added in the end, just to emphasise.

"A big car for such a little girl," Tony whistled playfully.

"I'm compensating," I deadpanned. "I'm a little slow on the uptake, y'know, so my Rangie with five hundred horses makes up for it. Gotta keep it balanced."

Tony chewed on his lip. "Five hundred? Haven't heard about that, it comes with three-ninety-five in stock," His eyebrow wiggled. "Tuned it?" He cast me a contemplative glance.

"Yup," I exclaimed happily. As far as the date, I would have been utterly ecstatic to talk about cars all evening. Screw the boring "where do you see yourself in five years" questions, talk to me about your favourite engine swaps. Concept cars, give me those. Monster trucks? Yes, please. Vintage low-riders? Couldn't wait to get my grubby little hands on one. Gimmee!

Tony kept his silence and kept his press smile starting the moment we set foot on getting out of the car. The place he'd taken me to was ridiculously upscale and fancy; the valet hesitated only for a second before catching the keys Tony so carelessly tossed in his direction. There was almost no fear in his body language when the boy approached the massive, expensive vehicle.

The hostess smiled big at Tony and gave me the world's biggest stink-eye when he looked the other way but what else is new? As soon as she left us in the privacy of our booth, I didn't hesitate to stick my tongue at her retreating back. A brief lapse in maturity, if you will.

Tony cackled, growing suddenly serious. "Did she bother you? I can get her fired. I should get her fired."

"Nah," I shrugged. "Don't really care, just wanted to showcase my amazing sense of humour." Snorting, I gave Tony a wink and a secretive grin.

"You really don't give a fuck, do you," His eyebrows twitched again, a sign of mild interest that I noted during our routine sciencing time together. Tony was incredibly expressive if one took the time to observe.

"I could suck your dick under the table right now," I answered honestly. "It's just that when God gave out things like dignity and shame, I wasn't home. Too many fun things to do, y'know," I spoke as casually as I could even though I was dying of laughter inside.

Eyes bulging, jaw hanging mid-way to the floor. Tony was serving Looks™ and I didn't mean just the white tee and purple blazer combo. "Princess, you're going to be the fucking death of me!" He took a sip from his water glass, smirking.

Finally releasing my mirth, I gathered my hands in a lock in front of me. His own, warm and calloused, reached over - I allowed the brief intimacy, clasping them, fiddling with the leather band of his watch. For a moment, it was just us, sitting in the dim light, discovering each other anew to Robert Johnson singing the blues and NYC bustling with life just behind the wall. 

The waiter took our orders - and if I totally butchered the Italian, Tony was gentleman enough not to make any remarks. 

"Somehow, every time I am with you, you both manage to meet my expectations to a T and surprise me at the same time," I wasn't able to completely ignore my nerves. My hand was still loosely in his and he didn't mind at all, me messing with his watch.

"How so?"

"I'm going to loosely quote someone, bear with me." Mr Davies's words popped into my mind just as I was wondering how to best articulate my feelings. "You're eccentric and interesting because it's, well, it's you, because it would be much weirder if we'd be sitting here and making boring small-talk and asking each other the genetic get-to-know-you questions," I briefly paused to sip my Dom Peringon and stare at our hands. Gathering my wits. "That would be why I don't do dates. It sounds so tedious on paper, just sorting through people until a person that's not absolutely mind-numbing comes around."

Tony was silent for a moment, the sheen of his eyes, the faraway look; he was lost in memories. Probably remembering all the girls he had charmed before. I didn't doubt it was easy for him: his smile was distracting and people usually were attracted to shiny things. He shone plenty. Also, most people were stupid, they never cared to look past the golden wrapper. I was convinced there was a diamond under it. But then again, I was biased.

"I've never thought about it that way, but I guess you're right," He finally said, serious. "With Pepper, at least, it was. Come to think of it, we never had that much in common, besides Stark Industries and her willingness to put up with my shit." It was painful for him to talk about her, that much was obvious. His laugh was forced and sardonic.

I, on the other hand, never understood why they got together in the first place. Or maybe I did - but the cold, composed Pepper and the chaotic, energetic Tony reminded me too much of my own parents. All four people in this fucked up equation could have been much happier if they choose... What? Being alone? That was terrifying, too.

I kept quiet, giving his hands a gentle squeeze.

"You know, this is so bizarre. Even an eighteen year old kid has got it figured out," He suddenly said, his tone bitter like the coffee that he loved.

"Woah, slow down," I put up a hand. "I never said I know what to do. I just said I know what NOT to do." The 'kid' remark would have made me eye-roll so hard my skull would crack any day. In this context, however, it was pretty spot on.

Tony snorted. "And how did you come by that information, pray tell, Baby?"

I huffed. "Have you met my parents?" We simultaneously cringed and I hurried to erase that mental image. "I make fun of myself for being into old dudes all the time," I made air quotes around the phrase that made Tony scoff, "But, honestly speaking, I've never even been on a date. Like a real one. Usually it's twenty minutes and I'm falling asleep mid-conversation. People can't seem to keep up with me or something," I felt genuinely dejected. "So many meaningless questions, so many downright idiotic comments. From men," I pointed out the obvious. "My mother used to tell me she thought I was gay because I didn't act like a girl... Whatever that means."

"That sounds pretty shitty," Tony was studying me like one would have been looking at an exotic animal in a zoo. "That said, I agree."

"That I don't act like a girl?" I teased him, the left corner of my mouth tilting upward. "Fuck that noise. I want to drive fast cars, drink straight liquor and have orgasms. If that makes me a dude... I look pretty good for a dude in a dress."

We laughed in unison, tension evaporating under the shared, mutual understanding. With Tony, it was easy. The waiter brought our selected dishes. Blink-and-he's-gone. Top notch service.

"A dude in a dress, can't say I'm surprised 'bout your lack of dates," He remarked conversationally, happily digging into his food. The noises he made were intriguing, to say the least, and I followed suit on my own food, finding it absolutely delicious. A delicious meal with a delicious man at my side. I refused to feel guilty about my thoughts.

"I guess I have exactly one (1) date on my ledger now," I raised my argument.

The fork clattered as Tony once again, came to a sudden realization. "Holy shit, you weren't kidding."

"No shit," I gave into the urge to roll my eyes. "But on the upside, my first date was with the most gorgeous, intelligent and witty bachelor of the city. I'd say I don't have it all that bad," I quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Aw, you're making me blush," Tony recovered quickly, grinning. "And don't be shy. The most desired bachelor of the country, if not the world."

I shook my head. "No, the world's most delectable bachelor is one of the Saudi princes. What's-his-name, the one who posts goat and horse pics on Insta," I snapped my fingers a couple of times, trying to remember the name as Tony looked at me all offended. "Anyways, you get my point. I could have a go at him, don't you think?" Cocking my shoulder, coyly twirling the strap of my dress, I gave Tony my best come-hither look and was rewarded with an appreciative once-over. His eyes were growing hungry again. 

"You're a million dollar baby," He finally said, voice low. "And the extent of people I would be willing to share you with is very small."

That got me interested, sudden heat prickling underneath my skin. The conversation took a turn I didn't expect it to; and there lied the delight of being around Tony. He was always ready to surprise, in the best way. "Tell me," I requested politely.

"That's a conversation for another time," He was enjoying the chit-chat, desire beginning to creep into his features.

"Mmm, you think?" I allowed the strap of my dress to slip down my shoulder, exposing a collarbone, showing him just how far I was willing to go to satisfy my curiosity.

He swallowed audibly. "I think... You're smart enough to figure it out," He finally gritted his teeth, finishing off his dinner and immediately calling for the check. 

I wasn't done yet, however. The possibility of riling him up, taunting him into a lustful frenzy - I was in heaven. Karma had favoured me that evening, it had given me a chance to get Tony back for all the times he unknowingly made my mouth water and my brain go blip. "Must be Steve then," I bit my lip in thought. 

Honestly? I was as clueless as the couple next table over. Steve it wasn't, that much I knew for sure, he and Tony had their little love/hate dramatic connection that always ended in a massive ego standoff. Tony would be on the frontline fighting against Steve if the blonde dared to show anything even remotely resembling romantic interest towards someone Tony himself had his eyes on.

"Princess," Tony growled, sarcastically raising an eyebrow.

"Not Steve," I replied, cracking a smile. Success! "You know, I'm really bad at guessing who's into me. Unless someone is balls deep in me," My face was mere inches away as we quickly shrugged on our coats. "And even then, I can't be sure."

My giggling was accompanied by Tony shaking his head in exasperated fashion; he took my hand nonetheless and I happily swayed it between us, poster child for "not a care in the world". He allowed it, maintaining the same exasperated air about him, and I let him. Fondness and happiness seeped through that anyways.

"Brat," His voice was kind. And his kiss tingled where he left it on the corner of my mouth, sweet and short. "Here, have a go," Before I could react, the keys to his Rolls Royce were placed in my palm and he was making his way around the car to the passenger's side.

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[cosmiccandydreamer]

Stability Chapter 4

Otis driftwood x Reader

(I do not own these gifs)

Authors note:~ Quick reminder please be aware of any triggers that may make you uncomfortable when proceeding with the story, which is not limited to hateful terminology (I tried to be as accurate as possible with the dialogue in the movie), mentions of non-con, sexual situations, and violence.~

Saying Baby and Otis enjoyed having hostages would be an understatement, the stress of everything that happened in the last 24 hours took a toll on them, and these poor folks were just the people to help take out some of that stress. “Chinese, Japanese, dirty knees, look at these” Baby sang and danced around the motel room to the forced audience, while her brother sat in the chair across from the group pointing a gun at them. Roy tried to avert his eyes from Baby’s dancing and cower with his wife, but it was slightly difficult with her pushing her tits right in his face.

Otis took this opportunity to further provoke the man. “Hoss, are you staring at my sister thinking bad thoughts?” he asked him, pointing the gun at the four of them. “No,” he replied with a shake in his voice. " Well, why not? are you a faggot?” Otis asked him looking at him slightly sideways "No” said Roy, "Well, what are ya then? I mean you got this hot, piece of ass shaking her shit right in front of you and you're not getting any ideas. What do you call that?" "I'm a married man,” he replied. "Wow!” Baby yelled, waving her hands in the air, “a married man!" "Well, shit” Otis exclaimed “I'm married too! look at us, that's just great! Let's give him a big round of applause, folks for the married man! come on! Oh, man ain't married life just great? You should see my wife Hoss she's got the best part of tits on her whew shit".

Otis looked down at the gun in his hand after that last comment, the hand that had the matching scar that you had on your left hand. He slowly used his thumb to caress the lifted scar tissue. Fuck he missed you, no he ached for you. He trusted you and knew that you could take care of yourself, but the idea that he didn't know where you were and when he was going to find you.. that didn't sit well with him. God, he missed the smell of your hair when he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close. His large hands gripping your locks as he pressed y/h/c into his nose. The little laughs you would do when he startled you and grabbed you from behind. He took those moments for granted, he knows that now and he regrets it. He thought back to the last night you spent together before you all had to flee. You had helped picked that nights victim earlier that day, you had been at work when a group of young men had entered the gas station, they looked like a group of tourists just passing through,

“Hey waitress why don’t you make yourself useful and go see what’s taking my fucking chicken?” one of them snapped at you while picking up random items and putting them down. “ I’m not your waitress but I can go see what’s taking so long for you,” you replied through gritted teeth, “ thanks sweet cheeks,” he said as he slapped your ass when you walked by. Well needless to say Otis was not happy when he heard that occurred, you had taken down the license plate before they took off and gave it to him as soon as you got in the truck. After heading home and grabbing Rufus, the boys searched the nearest motel for the make and plates of the car. When they found them they kidnapped them and dragged them back to the house. It was a bloodbath, you and the rest of the family took no mercy on the boys, tearing them apart all night.

Eventually, it ended up just being you two in the basement, Baby had long gone upstairs to play dress-up with one of the boys. Otis held the victim that had slapped you on the ass while you stabbed him over and over again, right in the side of the neck then the chest, and later under the armpit, while this occurred Otis screamed words of encouragement to you hyping you up during this assault. By the end you both were a bloody heaving mess, your heart was fluttering like a hummingbird, blood was splattered all over the both of you. You turned to him with your chest heaving heavily, “Otis” you painted still holding the knife, you let it fall to the ground with a clang “ yeah sugar” he walks over to you and grabs your face with his blood-soaked hands lifting your face to look at him, running his finger over your lips, mixing the red lipstick on your lips with the red on his hands, “what do you want from your almighty devil”?.

Seeing the look in his eyes you knew that the devil that lived in him was front and center, this didn’t scare you though, oh no quite the opposite. You closed your eyes for a second, before opening them and looking him straight in his ” you’re the almighty devil, and I want you to make me your fucking whore” with that last sentence you took his blood-soaked thumb into your mouth and sucked on it before letting it out with a pop. He sucked in air sharply before grabbing the back of your neck and shoving you down toward the floor “ on your knees like my good whore”. You happily obliged, kneeling in front of him you took his large member in your blood-soaked hand and inserted it into your mouth. Never breaking eye contact you bobbed your head up and down until you milked every single drop from him. Grabbing your hair he turned your head upward at him, you smiled with your face a mixture of blood and semen, “ such a beautiful good whore”.

“You said you’re married?” This question came from Adam still cowering behind the ladies and Roy on the bed. This question snapped him out of his fond memory and forced him to look toward them. “ Yeah I did, why is that shocking? are you saying that an ugly fuck like me couldn't score a hot piece of ass like my wife?” “no no no that’s not it” “ Then what is it hm? You got something to say to me?, Boy, the next word that comes out of your mouth better be some brilliant fuckin' Mark Twain shit, 'cause it's gettin' chiseled on your tombstone.” “ I just .. does your wife know you do things like this?” asked Roy, raising his voice a little, Gloria gasped and lightly gripped his arm, shushing him.

"Woooo man! getting a little bold there Roy! Such a big brave man all of a sudden, showing off in front of the misses there hm?" Otis said, pointing the gun at Gloria, he got quiet for a second after that, lowering the gun and thinking to himself "All right. okay, mama, front and center, on your feet.". Gloria and Roy looked back at each other confused. "okay, come on, Mama. Take that shit off, let's see what's been holding Hoss's balls at attention all these years" "what … " Gloria asked looking back at Roy then at Otis," What? Take off your clothes, or one of these assholes is going to die. Come on, come on". Gloria stands and shakily takes off her top and pants leaving her in her underwear, "shit, way to go, Roy! she ain't too bad. She got a tight little ass on her!" Baby exclaimed.

Otis grabbed Gloria bringing her to him, why did Roy get to enjoy his wife while he couldn't? Naw fuck that, fuck Roy, fuck the world for taking you away. "Please don't hurt me, please don't hurt me" Gloria begged as Otis pulled her real close in running the gun all up and down her leg and stomach "you like this, don't ya? Say "Yes, I do. " You like that, don't ya? Say "Yes, I do. " Yes, I do. Yes, I do". Gloria tried to look at the ground but Otis pointed the gun at her temple warning her to start compiling "Yes, I... I do".

"You like they don't ya? Hmm huh, mamas" *grunts* "yes yes I do" you moaned as Otis grabbed both your breasts and squeezed them as hard as he could. The messy blow job was just the beginning, after you smiled at him with your sinfully filled mouth he had scooped you up and pressed you up against the nearest wall. You moaned again as he pounded into you and bit your teeth into his shoulder earning a deep pornographic growl from him and causing Otis to thrust into you even harder and faster. "Give me some sugar mama, oh yeah make it sweet" he whispered onto your lips before roughly kissing you, you opened your mouth wider to deepen the kiss and he took this opportunity to shove his tongue inside your mouth. You pulled back to gasp for air after the intrusion on your mouth and before you had a chance to catch your breath, you kissed him again but this time it was soft and gentle, he pushed into you slower now and less violently. He lazily nipped your bottom lip, pulling it back some, he rested his forehead on yours and stared into your eyes as he finished with a few final thrusts.

"Okay. Okay, now. Give me some sugar. Make it sweet. Don't want me to tense up my trigger finger. My finger's getting tense... I want you to say, "You're the almighty devil, and I want you to make me your fucking whore. " Come on, say it. I know it. I know you're feeling it. Say it.". Otis at this point had forced Gloria into a kneeling position after violating her with the pistol. The whole scene was a vile obscene site, he suddenly grabbed her again roughly pulling her up towards him, " fucking … say it" "You're... the... almighty... devil and I want you... to make me your... fucking whore" she splattered barely getting the words out. Otis laughed and shoved her back toward the bed " you fucking make me sick". This site causes Baby to bust out laughing "Woo-hoo! I feel like we're all getting to know each other now". " All right, ladies" her brother exclaims, "I and the boys have an errand to run. We'll be back in a little while. Come on, Hoss, move it. Come on, shit stain! Gotta go! Come on! God damn it!".

[whitewolfmoving]

Boston Burning Part One

Pressure

Summary: After the ceiling caves in leaving Nika Stan trapped and injured on an emergency call, she's ordered to take mandatory sick leave until her injuries heal. She can think of no better place to rest and recuperate than in Boston with her (and her brother's) best friend.

Warnings: very minor description of injuries

Word Count: 1459

A/N: Here's chapter one of part one of my two-part crossover series! For a setup chapter, I personally think it sucks a bit. But I hope you like it. This story was born of my love for firefighters, my need for d/Deaf representation, and dreams no one needs to know about but that I told one of my best friends of anyway (hehe). Happy reading!

New York born and raised, Nika Stan had always been her big brother's little shadow.

When 13-year-old Sebastian loudly declared one warm evening at the dinner table that he was going to grow up and be a firefighter like the one he'd seen on the way to school, a chubby-cheeked 4-year-old Nika proudly echoed, "Me, too!" And when her big brother leaned over with his dark ocean blue eyes to kiss her forehead and whispered gently in her ear, "Of course, you will, my little Sunspot!" Nika knew then that she was born for greatness.

For Nika, that greatness took the form of many things throughout her life; from saving kittens stuck in trees and helping her neighbor Mrs. Jenkins across the street after school, to following in her brother's footsteps all the way to the National Fire Academy. Sebastian always taught Nika that she could do and be anything she put her mind to, he was her number one fan and biggest supporter. Whenever she needed a little extra encouragement, he was right there to give it to her. Likewise, Nika did the same for him.

The call that changed their lives came just after 2 AM.

Sebastian was out of bed, dressed, in the car, and walking through the doors of Brooklyn General within the hour. It was late, the emergency room was empty save for the Squad, Engine, and Truck members huddled in the far corner of the waiting area. Before he could make his way to the reception desk to inquire about his sister's whereabouts, the Squad Lieutenant intercepted him.

"Hey, man. They're treating her now and Brooklyn PD is taking her statement. Chief's with her, but she's been asking for you. Straight back, first room on the left."

"Thanks. All of you, for being here. I'll update you when I know more."

The whitewashed walls of Brooklyn General were never Sebastian's thing; he belonged on the outside, keeping people from having to enter its doors. Now, though, he carefully wandered its hallways looking and listening for the one person he never wanted to see taking up residence in the massive building — Nika. The Chief had assured him that her injuries were minor but he wouldn't believe it until he could see her with his own eyes. He continued down the hall to the first door on his left, and knocked before heading in.

To Sebastian's surprise — and the credit of the doctors on call late that night — Nika didn't look too worse for wear. He breathed a sigh of relief and acknowledged Chief Jackson briefly, before he settled in the chair at Nika's bedside.

"Frate mai mare," she greeted softly. She looked up at him with glazed honey-colored eyes, no doubt a result of the mild sedative they'd given her to help with the pain. White gauze poked out from under the right shoulder of the clean hospital gown she wore, her wrist had been placed in a hard cast and propped up on a pillow in her lap. She looked so tiny beneath the blankets.

"Sora mai mică," Sebastian answered in kind. He gently pushed a hand through Nika's hair. watching closely as her eyes fluttered shut at the comforting contact. Once he was certain she'd fallen asleep, he turned to address the other men in the room. "Did she say what happened?"

"She was clearing the top floor, called out and received no response. When she turned to leave, the owner ambushed her from the next room. The ceiling came down on top of them," Chief Jackson told Sebastian calmly. "The only thing she remembers after that is waking up here."

Dr. Fuller handed Sebastian a copy of Nika's x-ray. He hated this part, they all did. Everyone loved the younger Stan sibling as much as Sebastian did, seeing her in any sort of discomfort put them all on edge. "She's got a broken radius and second degree burns on her shoulder and across part of her chest. We'll keep her overnight for observation, just as a precaution. She can go home tomorrow afternoon but it's in her best interest to keep her off duty until her wounds heal."

Sebastian chuckled. "She's not going to like that. Thanks, Doc, I appreciate it."

"Unfortunately, the owner of the house fled the scene before we got there. But from what Nika and a few of the guys were able to give us, we have enough for a rough sketch. I'll keep you updated when we have more information, Seb. We'll find out who did this." Detective Brighton firmly clapped Sebastian on the shoulder before following the doctor and chief from the room, leaving the siblings alone.

Nika slept soundly for three days which the doctors assured Sebastian was normal for the small amount of trauma her body had endured. On the fourth day, he was growing increasingly concerned for his sister's well-being. As he weighed the pros and cons of waiting it out against going to ask Dr. Fuller to recheck Nika's vitals, Sebastian paced back and forth at the foot of her bed.

"Bas, you're going to wear a hole in the floor," Nika said. Her voice sounded rough and scratchy from sleep, but at least she was talking.

Sebastian sighed, relieved. His fingers curled around the two small devices in his right jacket pocket, she wouldn't be able to hear him without them but maybe that was for the best right now. He withdrew his hands from the comfort of his jacket pockets, stood at the foot of Nika's hospital bed and braced himself for the flood of emotion and attitude that would soon pour from his sister like rolling thunder.

"Hey, Sunspot. Glad to see you're awake," Sebastian moved his hands with such a calm fluidity when he signed. He'd learned for Nika when no one else would, it often made moments like this a lot easier for them. "How do you feel?"

"My chest is sore, but it's not too bad. Ready to get the hell out of here, honestly. Hospitals wig me out."

"You're good to go today, but you're out of work until your wrist and burns heal."

Nika rolled her eyes and scoffed indignantly at her brother's instruction. Not working wasn't something she knew how to do, firefighting was in her veins. She sighed.

Sebastian chuckled. "Look, Nik, I know you don't want to hear this. But you need to take some time off, to rest, to heal. Do it for me. Please?" He knew he had her with those last five words; Nika would do anything for her brother.

Two days later, Nika stepped off the plane at Boston Logan International Airport.

She walked through the gate with the crowd, happy to be in a place where her brother wasn't for the time being. She loved Sebastian, loved that he wanted to protect her, but his concern lately had been stifling. Nika needed a break, needed a change of scene. As soon as they'd left the hospital, she called Chris and told him what happened. Without a second thought, he told her to come to Boston, said he'd be there when she landed.

She waded through the sea of people heading for baggage claim, keeping an eye out for Chris's tall frame. She was tired, sore, and just wanted to be somewhere she could relax without thinking of the accident for a while. She needed to take her medication, the dressing on her shoulder and chest needed to be changed, and she desperately needed a drink.

"C'mon, Evans. Where the hell are you?" Nika was just about to break down and call him, when she felt a strong hand wrap around her waist from behind.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you not to stand around by yourself in an airport?" Chris's smooth Boston accent said in her left ear. He had her backpack slung over his shoulder and her rolling suitcase in his hand. His bright blue eyes sparkled as he smiled down at her. "Ready to go?"

She nodded, signed back, "Ready for the pressure to stop. Thanks for letting me stay with you for a few weeks."

Chris grabbed her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, then kissed the top of her head. His voice met her ear once again. "Ah, Nik. What are best friends for, huh?"

Nika hummed. She missed her brother, but she knew she'd be safe with Chris, too. Being out of the game wasn't going to be easy for the youngest Stan sibling, she was used to the fast pace of firefighting; she counted on it as much as she counted on her brother to have her back. Without it, Nika wasn't sure who she was or who she could be.

Till The End of All Things Taglist: @arrowsandmixtapes @pinknerdpanda

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Dangerous Love (Pt. 09 of 13)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Batman) X Harley Quinn's sister!Reader

Word count: 3K

Summary: You're Harley Quinn's sister, Havoc, one of the many villain's of Gotham. But you've been caught, and has been tortured constantly for an year in Belle Reve. But when your think your life can't be anything else than the nightmare you find yourself into, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, takes you in for a project. He has a program to rehabilitate villains, and you're his lab rat. But soon enough confusing feelings start getting in the way. You know falling for Bruce is stupid. But can you keep your heart under control?

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{Justice League - DC Masterlist}

×

Some Dreams Become True

Two man hold you, one on each arm, walking you through the rocky path of the Wayne House. They're just making sure you can walk. When you see Bruce, tears fill your eyes. You want to run, but you don't think you can. He's nervous, hands clenched into fists, a hard expression on his face, eyes on the man holding you.

When you're climbing the few steps to his front the door, feeling Bruce's eyes on you, the man holding your right arm let go, and you use the last bit of strength to turn around, hitting him in the chest with the heavy metal handcuffs.

He lets out a groan, falling down. The other man is quick to respond, pushing you violently to the floor. You feel a sting on your leg, hurting on the already injured skin.

“Get your hands off her!” Bruce yells, stepping forward and placing a punch on the man's jaw. Everyone backs up, hands raised, straight back into the trucks. “(Y/N).” He comes to help you up, and you're thankful for having his arms to sustain your weight.

You pull him with you as you move to get inside, out of those men's sight. When you're in, he pushes the door closed, and you just can't help it, you fall into his arms, hiding your face on his chest. “They beat me.” It comes out as a whisper, a low cry. “In the truck, just now, they... They said you'd think I got them from the mission but I didn't.”

Felling vulnerable isn't your thing. But you spent so much time playing as the tough one, it has a hint of freedom to accept that you're breakable, human. And with Bruce... You feel you can be fragile... You don't have to hide it.

“I'll have them fired.” He says, his chest vibrating with the anger in his voice. “I swear to God I'll–” He stops suddenly when your legs fail and, if it wasn't for him, you'd fall. Bruce picks you up bridal style, and, since you can't look at him right now, you hide your face in the crook of his neck. “Let's get you cleaned up, ok?”

Nodding, you feel as he carries you upstairs, to the room you missed so much. Bruce sits you down on the bed, carefully taking off your shoes. “Do you need help? In the shower?” He speaks low, not sure if he should say it.

“No, I think I can stand up for a while...”

“I'll be right here the whole time, so if you fall or need anything, just call me, ok?”

Nodding, you give him a small smile. Bruce takes some clothes and puts them in the bathroom for you before taking you there. When he leaves, you get inside the box, opening the warm water and taking everything you'll need and laying it on the floor around you. Slowly, and trying not to moan from the pain, you take your clothes off and start washing away the dust and blood. You wish you could wash away the bruises too, but that only time can provide.

It hurts, but you have to wash your hair too. You take so long that Bruce asks if you're alright a few times, and starts making some questions, just so he can make sure you're well. You step out of the shower, dry yourself and your hair before dressing up. As soon as you open the door, Bruce comes, picking you up again and taking you to the bed.

Then, he starts attending to all the wounds, no matter how small. Your heart is a confusion of feelings, and the butterflies give you no rest. After a little more than two weeks, you're finally back in the place where you feel safe. With the man who has been unbelievably gentle. He asks permission to lift your shirt and that's when he sees the four inches of stitches on your left side, just below the ribs.

“What was that?”

“One of the terrorists cut me. The soldiers wanted to heat up a knife and just burn it, but Floyd... Deadshot... Made them call the doctor to stitch it up.” Your voice is low, and you flinch a little when he touches the wound.

“Sorry.”

It takes almost an hour until he stops, gathering all the medical stuff he used before giving you two painkillers. You don't know what to say, you're completely lost. During the mission, you had more than enough time to think about how you'd feel to be back here, but now it's different. It's real... And you have to apologize for what you did before you left.

“Bruce... Before I left I... I kissed you and I shouldn't, I- I was so scared and I didn't want to go so I had an impulse. I'm sorry.” Your heart is beating fast now, so you look down at your hands.

“Why did you kiss me? Tell me the truth.” Bruce moves closer, his hand coming to your cheek. You can't help but close your eyes and sigh, melting into his touch.

How is it possible that he doesn't know how you feel yet? You're sure you failed to hide it under his sharp eyes. “I... I really wanted to kiss you because it's- it's a sign of affection, right?”

“A kiss on the cheek is a sign of affection. On the lips... It means a completely different kind of affection.” His fingers trail the outline of your jaw, your chin...

“I know, I... I just...”

“On the times you thought I was a dream, you said you could fall in love with me. Do you remember what I said back?”

“What?” How does he know... “Was that... Was that real? Did you really came here and...” You don't know what to think. Why would Bruce do such a thing? Not only bother to come but to stay and hold you... Why did he hold you like that? “But- but you–” You stop talking because Bruce leans closer, closer than he ever was. You feel his lips brushing on yours, so softly that it makes you wonder if this might be a dream all over again. But the pain is very real, so this must be too. “What are you doing?” You question him, struggling to control yourself, to stand still.

“I'm trying to explain how I feel about you without using words.”

Before you can say anything, you feel his lips on yours, fully this time. It takes no time until you react, your arms around his neck as you move your lips at his pace, trying to move closer. But a sting on your side makes you jump, and Bruce starts pulling away.

“What was–” Screw your beat-up body. Right now, you couldn't care less. You pull him close once again, not wanting the kiss to be so brief. You waited for a hell of a long time for this, and you won't let a wound ruin it.

You're happy when he gives in to the kiss, and his lips are so soft, so warm... Imagining it didn't get anywhere close to the real thing. There's a small cut on your bottom lip, and it burns a little, but you don't care. This could last forever.

“(Y/N)–” He breaks apart again, but you push yourself forward, chasing his lips, groaning a little when your body complains. You use his shoulders to sustain some of your weight, pulling him into the kiss again. It probably comes out as too needy, but overthinking won't do any good now. Bruce kissed you. He kissed you. Against all odds, against every possibility, Bruce might like you. So you want to have it, to taste his kiss for as long as you can before trying to understand what's going on.

“(Y/N), slow down.” He tells you when you pull away to breathe. “Slow down.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, foreheads touching. Bruce helps you sit back down, resting your back on the headboard, and fixing the pillows around. “What- What was that about, Bruce?”

“Doesn't it make things clear?”

“I know, I just... I need you to say it because I keep thinking that I'm a criminal and it's been a while since I've been trying not to have feelings for you because we're on different sides and... The dreams that weren't dreams happened, the birthday party, all the rest but I... I'll be forever telling myself I'm misreading the signs if you don't tell me...” It comes out all confusing, and you feel pathetic.

“I tried so hard not to fall for you.” He begins, moving the hair away from your face. “That's why I disappeared a while after you got here. My feelings started confusing me so I thought it would be better to call out the project. But I couldn't. Your beauty was the first thing that caught my eyes but after that... Everything you are, it just got me. You got me.”

Biting back a smile, you look down at your hands. “So... I'm the first criminal of Gotham who actually got the Batman.” Such a bad joke.

But a low giggle makes you raise your head and stare at him. “I guess we can say that. But you're not a criminal anymore.”

“That's not what they think.” You tilt your head towards the door.

You're still speaking when Bruce stands up and walks to the other side of the bed. You watch as he takes his shoes off, pulls the blanket away, and sits beside you. “Come here.” He says, and you move as carefully as you can. Bruce puts an arm around your shoulders, and you rest your back on his chest. You don't know why he's doing this, but who are you to argue. It feels good to be held by him. “It's this ok?”

“Yes,” you mutter, closing your eyes. “Being... Being away from you was the worst part of the Suicide Squad, but... It was also a constant reminder of who I am. Or who I was. Havoc.”

“Tell me how you felt.” He asks.

“Therapy session?”

“No. I just want to know everything about you. And help as much as I can.” Softly, he caresses your hair.

You don't want to go back there, but you did wish you had Bruce there to tell him everything that confused you. That made you feel bad. “You know what Havoc means, right? Great destruction, devastation. Something or someone who causes ruin and damage. And I used to be so proud of it.”

“Who gave you this name?”

“A newspaper used the word to describe me in an article about my very first assault to a bank. The place was wrecked.” You speak low, and despite the fact that you hate to remember what you did in the past, there's a good feeling, of pure bliss to be like this with Bruce. His arms are the best place in the world, and your sore body can rest. “And I did that because I wanted to, just for... Fun.”

“Sometimes I get the feeling that your idea of fun was influenced by your sister.”

“Well, my life was terrible until I started hanging out with her so yes... I guess I allowed that world to shape me.”

“Do you still think about returning to your old life?” You feel the expectation on his voice, and also a little bit of vulnerability. Bruce is scared that he likes someone who may still slide back into the crime life.

“On my birthday, before going downstairs I was thinking about it.” You turn around slowly, just enough to look into his eyes. “And I was going to ask you for help.” You smile when he caresses your cheek. “I'm sure now that I don't want to go back... I had money, cars, jewels, but those were only things. You... You showed me things aren't enough. So I made the decision to try. To really try. But I don't know what to do. I supposed to be graduated by now, and have a job, you know... To have started my own life, but... I have nothing.”

“If you want to study I'll pay for your college.”

“I can't let you do that.” Biting back a moan, you turn your body towards him, so you're laying your head on his chest. “It's expensive and... It would be weird.”

“You have to let me take care of you. Not only when you're injured.” He rests his chin on the top of your head, and you close your eyes. “So I'll pay for your college. Then help you find a good job.”

“Hm...” You mumble because you're so tired that you can feel yourself drifting off to sleep. “Will you be here when I wake up?” You manage to ask.

“I'll try, but Batman needs to be on the streets tonight.” He answers in an apologetic tone.

“That's alright, Batman. I understand.”

“Now try to rest, sweetheart.”

“I love it when you call me that.” Whispering, you smile to feel his chest vibrating when he giggles.

And for the first time in a long, long time, you drift off to sleep peacefully, feeling safe and sound, in the arms of someone you truly care about, and who also cares about you.

Your dreams aren't bad. Not as bad as they used to. But yet, you're awake in the middle of the night, completely alone. As you check the clock, 3 a.m., you imagine what Batman is doing right now...

Your body feels numb from the painkillers, so that makes you more secure to stand up and walk around. You do what you usually do, standing in by the window looking down. But then you remember you can go there now. That Bruce doesn't lock the door anymore. Smiling to yourself, you go to the bathroom to wash your face before going to the garden, just to shake the sleep away. The girl in the mirror looks so different from the one you used to see a couple of months ago... Her eyes are different, softer, not desperate, and full of uncertainty. How is it possible that a person can change so much in such a little time? Despite the bruises, your skin does look better, and so does your hair.

Your hair...

The dark roots look bad, and the faded lilac color suddenly seems too odd. In a rush, you search for the box dye Bruce got you. The hair is the only thing that remains of your past. The bruises will heal with time, but it's your job to fix the hair.

You know what to do, so you have no trouble avoiding a mess. Maybe this is something superficial, silly even. But you meant what you said to Bruce, you do want a different life, a restart. You dyed your hair lilac because you wanted to look wild and crazy, like the Joker or Harley. Now you don't need to look like someone else, you feel secure enough to just look like yourself.

You use all three boxes, so you'll be sure to have nice coverage. You're scared now, afraid of how you'll look. When your hair is completely dry, you brush it, moving to stand before the mirror, eyes closed.

Taking a deep breath, you open up your eyes. You're smiling even before you notice, and there are some tears in your eyes. Bruce chose the right color because it merges perfectly with the natural color. Running a hand through your hair, you pull it over your shoulders. You're mesmerized by how it looks. You can't wait to show Bruce so you decide to check if he's back already.

Leaving the room, you walk through the house, calling him. But after a while, it's clear he's not here yet.

“Miss Quinzel?” Alfred calls, and you turn to look at him. “Do you need anything?” He raises his eyebrows at you. “That's a nice change, Miss Quinzel.”

“Thank you, Alfred. I was just checking if Bruce was back already.”

“Master Bruce just got back. He's at the... Cave.”

“Cave?”

“Follow me, please.”

Alfred guides you through the place, to an office in the back of the house. Then, he moves closer to a clock on the wall, and before you can ask what's he's doing, he pushes it to reveal a hole in the wall. “You can go in, Miss Quinzel, he's down there. Careful with the stairs.”

“Ok.” The stairs are dark, so you squint your eyes to try and see better. They take you to a huge, open area. It's a cave indeed, but it looks like another building underground. You'd never guess this was under the house. “Bruce?” You call him, your voice echoing through the place.

There's a whole lab here and a complete hospital room. On the far left, a gym, with more types of equipments than a normal gym would have.

“I'm here.” Bruce comes from behind a wall, wet hair, still buttoning up his shirt. “How did you get in here?”

“I- I'm sorry. Alfred brought me here, through a hole behind a clock. I didn't know I couldn't–”

“Hey, it's alright.” He walks your way, and his face lights up when he gets closer, and a smile comes to his lips. “You look beautiful.” Bruce takes a strand of hair in his fingers before bringing them to caress your cheek.

“I just dyed it and... I wanted you to see it because I really liked it.”

“That's what matters.” Bruce bends down, and you close your eyes to receive the kiss.

You tiptoe when you feel his lips on yours, surrendering into the kiss and wrapping your arms around his neck. You still can't believe this is real, that Bruce actually wants to kiss you. You can't help but wonder what this is. What's this means... You know how a relationship works. A person can be either single, dating, engaged, or married. Sometimes it's complicated, and maybe that's the best you can get with Bruce. These thoughts make you pull away, breaking the kiss without even noticing.

“Something wrong?” Bruce asks, looking a little confused.

“No, I was just... Thinking... It was nothing.”

“(Y/N), we're supposed, to be honest with each other, remember? If you're not ok with me kissing you like that you just have to say and–”

“No!” You burst out, shaking your head slightly. “Please, that's not it.” The thought of not kissing Bruce is just absurd, unbearable even, that you just cut him off, keeping him close by holding the collar of his shirt. “That's not it but I... I can't tell you.”

“It's about me, then.” He affirms. “The last time you didn't want to tell me something it was about you dreaming of me.” Bruce places a soft, delicate kiss on your lips. “Tell me what's bothering you. Please.”

Taking a deep breath, you step away, turning your back at him. It's easier if you're not looking into his eyes. “My mind is always working, you know. I'm always thinking and... I was just wondering what this is. What we're doing, what we... What we are, you and I.”

“What do you think we are?”

“I wouldn't be asking if I knew, Bruce.” You sound defeated, shy.

“Tell me what you want, then.”

“I can't. Haven't you noticed that this is crazy? Dangerous, even. You're a hero and I'm a villain. And I do want to try and change my position in this but... It's still complicated and I don't want us to be complicated. I'm tired of complicated things.” Bruce moves closer as you speak, so you hide your face in his chest.

“Do you want us to be together? Officially?”

“It's not about what I want, it's about–”

“I want us to be together.” He interrupts, strong arms embracing you. “Now I need to know if you want the same. It's not about me or about you, it's about both of us.”

Be brave, just say it. You just have to say it. “I want to be with you... Like... I want us to have, Uhm... A relationship status? Is it how people call it?”

He giggles, pulling away just enough to raise you face his index finger. His eyes are gentle, calming, and you realize you don't have to be so desperately nervous around him. That you trust him more than you ever thought you could trust anyone. “Do you want to be my girlfriend, (Y/N)?”

Biting your lip to hold back a smile, you nod. The smile comes anyways, but you push yourself forward, tiptoeing to kiss him. This is insane. This is... Real. You thought you'd die in that prison, or in any other, or maybe on an alley after you lost a fight... But this is so much better.

You're still kissing when a beep starts. Rolling your eyes, you pull away and step down, looking at the source of the noise. “Come.” Bruce takes your hand and guides you through the cave, to a high tech computer with six huge screens, a table full of buttons, and a chair. On the screen in the middle, you see what looks like a call. Bruce moves closer to the table and presses a button, and five people appear on the screen. You know them from the news. They're the other superheroes, so you step away just before Bruce connects, so they won't see you.

“Bruce. We have a problem.” The woman says, Wonder Woman. “An alien spaceship is hovering over Washington.”

“They haven't made contact yet, but the ship has several weapons, which I imagine they will use.” It's Superman who speaks this time.

“I never liked that Independence Day movie.” A younger boy mutters, but nobody seems to pay much attention.

“Is anybody in Washington?” Bruce asks.

“Just Clark and I. But the rest is coming too. And we need you.” Wonder Woman answers.

“Alright.” He looks down for a moment before looking at you. “I'll be there.” He says before hanging up.

He seems to be a little sad, but you don't mind that he has to go. It's his job, to protect Gotham and the world. Smiling, you walk over him, placing a kiss on his cheek. “Go get them, Batman. I'll be waiting for you.”

×

@fionanovasleftnut @glitterypinkkitty @mybabyboytony @chipster-21 @agustdpeach @yaakimoon2 @chloe-skywalker

[phoenixhalliwell]

Do You Want to Know A Secret?

Pairings: Frankie 'Catfish' Morales X Gender Neutral Reader

Word count: 3100

Author's Note: Good Evening all, Welcome to my first ever fic! So if you somehow stumble upon this, I hope you enjoy it and if you don't please be gentle with me :P I tried to write this as inclusive as possible ( I've given them a nickname to keep myself right when writing) so I hope I've done a good enough job of it. Also I hope you don’t mind that I’ve tagged you guys in this. 

@catfishingmorales​ @cinewhore​ @wickedfrsgrl @abuttoncalledsmalls

Frankie happens to meet the younger miller sibling at a party and drama ensues.

 Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Frankie tightens his grip on the steering wheel of his truck and tries to keep himself calm. The loud music from the party drifts in through the window, causing him to sigh.

'It's just party, it's a safe place. Your brothers are inside. Just go in, have a drink, show face and if it gets too much get the fuck out of dodge.' He repeats the mantra over and over again. So caught up in his thoughts, he doesn't see movement out of the corner of his eye.

BANG

"MOTHERFUCKER" Frankie nearly launches himself through the front window at the sudden interruption.  Heart racing, he turns to the source of the noise, only to see Santiago giggling with his face pressed up against the door.

"I swear to God Pope, one of these days I'm going to end you!" he growls, quickly opening the door and knocking his friend in the face with it.

"Owwwww" Santi whines, rubbing his nose. Frankie just smirks.  "Serves you right pendejo" Grabbing his cap off the passenger's seat, he shoves it on his head like a protective shield and jams his hands in his pockets.

"Thought you were never gonna get out of that fucking truck Fish" Santi teases but only receives a half hearted shrug of the shoulders in return. He feels a pang of sympathy for his friend and quickly  tries to reassure him.

"Look, I know you're not the best with people, but it's a party! Just have a drink and relax. God knows you need to chill out yeah? Lets head in, it's fucking freezing out here."

Both men trudge up the driveway towards the house, Santi gives Frankie a playful nudge before opening the door and heading inside. Frankie takes a deep breath to brace himself before heading into the 'warzone' The Millers party is in full swing. With the combination of Will's organisation (there is enough alcohol here to open a liquor store) and Benny's love of people, the house is jam packed and the party goers want for nothing while they are here. Santi is in his element and happily mingles with everyone, smiling and hugging people as he goes. Frankie makes a beeline for the kitchen, his usual designated safe place and finds Will  already there, chatting away to an unfamiliar face. Will's face lights up when he eventually sees his friend and calls out

"Hey man! Didn't think you were actually going to make it"

Will excuses himself from the person he was talking to and rushes over to give Frankie a bear hug.

"Pope can be pretty persuasive when he wants to be" Frankie has to shout a little to be heard.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, Santi tackles Will from the side and a tussle breaks out. Frankie just rolls his eyes and grabs himself a beer to watch the show. The boys have a quick catch up in the kitchen before Will is stolen away to play party host. Frankie is nursing his second beer and trying to keep himself calm when he suddenly gets a quick jab in the ribs from Santi.

" What the fuck man?" he growls at his friend. Santi slides closer to him before informing him

" You've caught someone's eye hermano" and subtly nodding over to someone behind Frankie.

Frankie does a quick glance over his shoulder to where Pope gestured and suddenly feels his breath leave him. Standing in the corner of the kitchen has to be the most beautiful person he had ever had the pleasure of seeing. While everyone else is decked out to the nines, they have opted for a more casual approach which he loves. A further glance up and he sees the warm smile which is currently being given to him. Be still my beating heart is all Frankie can think. Ever the Hawk, Santi notices his brother's heart eyes and doesn't hesitate to shout over.

"Hey! Fancy joining us? "

Well that sure as hell snaps Frankie out of his daydreams and panic runs through him. Whipping round he sees  Santi wiggle his eyebrows at him and shoot  him a thumbs up with a shit eating grin. Frankie feels his face flush muttering curses under his breath. He's definitely going to end Pope, he just has to figure out how to make it look like an accident. Their new guest is quick to make their way over to them and introduces themselves.

"Hi, I'm jinx"

Frankie gapes down at the hand that is currently extended to him but makes no move to shake it. He feels utterly betrayed by his body right now.' Why are you so fucking awkward?' He wants to shout to himself.

Jinx gives Frankie an unsure look as though maybe regretting coming over. Santi is quick to take the lead  and playfully pushes Frankie out the way to  get to Jinx.

"Jinx! What a great name. I'm Santiago and this useless bastard here is my favourite flyboy Frankie" Jinx lets out a belly laugh at this and Frankie has to hold onto the counter to keep himself upright. A small pang of jealousy shoots through him at the thought of Santi being able to make Jinx laugh like that. 'Smooth bastard' he thinks bitterly. After a few moments of listening to the two of them talk, Frankie gets his wits about him and is able to engage Jinx in a conversation. And boy is he given a run for his money. Jinx is funny, sharp as a tack and sarcastic as hell. Frankie finds himself falling a little deeper as time goes on and can't for the life of him remember now why he didn't want to come to this party. Time seems to fly by and he doesn’t want to ever leave.

" I see you boys have finally met the baby of the family"  Benny interrupts the moment, slinging his arm around Jinx's shoulder, squeezing their cheeks together before ruffling their hair. Jinx squawks in outrage and lands a sold punch on Benny's shoulder, causing him to wince. The ensuing sibling squabbling begins to fade out as Frankie feels the colour drain from his face.

"Wait. You're Y/N Miller???? I thought you said your name was Jinx?" Santi questions, casting a glance at Fish.

" It's a nickname my brothers gave me because everything always goes to shit whenever I get involved" Jinx replies,  face heating up.

Frankie is in the middle of a meltdown at the new revelation. He Looks between the two millers and draws a complete blank. There is no family resemblance there whatsoever and he can't see a trace of Will either. Then a word flashes in Frankie's head   "ADOPTED" Of course! He'd forgotten that part. Of all the people at this fucking party, he had to be pining after his brothers' younger sibling. Frankie groans in realisation, causing everyone to turn at look at him in sync.

"You good there Fish? you're looking a little pale." Frankie is suddenly brought back to the group, embarrassed by being  caught out.

"Fine, awesome, Fantastic" Frankie replies with a nervous laugh. Benny narrows his eyes at him before  throwing another curve ball into the conversation, causing Jinx to blush.

"I hope the two of you kept your hands off baby Miller, I know what you're like Garcia!" Benny warns, point a finger at him.

"Not me you have to worry about" Santi mutters under his breath, causing Frankie to elbow him roughly in the side. Benny just glares at the both of them. 'And that is enough fun for one evening, time to retreat' Frankie decides and makes his excuses to his friends. He makes sure to tell Jinx how lovely it was to meet them before hightailing it out of the kitchen. He's nearly at the front door when he feels a hand on his arm and turns to see Jinx looking at him nervously.

" Look I know this goes against protocol with you and the guys, but I had a really fun time tonight and I'd really like to spend more time getting to know you if you were interested as well. .."  Jinx is suddenly cut off by Benny shouting "YO JINX WHERE YOU AT?"  Sighing, they shove a piece of paper into Frankie's hand , and give it a tight squeeze.

" Balls in your court  Frankie" and then they disappear into the crowd to find Benny. Frankie looks down at the number in his hand, hardly believing his luck. Maybe Pope can live another day.

 After a lot of back and forth, Frankie bites the bullet and texts Jinx. Palms clammy he rewrites the message for the millionth time before launching the phone on the table and throwing himself dramatically on the couch. He has had found a lot of bad thoughts creep into his mind over the past few days since the party which kept him from messaging sooner.  

'What have I possibly got to offer? Am I good enough? Why would they want to get involved with a washed up old army man? What if this is a joke? Frankie is pulled from his thoughts by a loud buzz and a coldness washes through him. Moment of truth. Taking a deep breath before glancing down at his phone, a surprised laugh suddenly escapes him.  

Messaged received from Jinx: Took you long enough flyboy. You owe me dinner for making me wait.

 It's been so long since he had felt this light and care free and it was all thanks to Jinx. After messaging constantly back and forth, it was decided that their first date would be at a cosy little diner. This eased Frankie's mind as he was already a nervous wreck without bringing a fancy establishment into the mix. It was easy to talk to Jinx and Frankie found himself pouring his heart out about his past mistakes: about his substance abuse, how his license had been suspended and how he'd lost his wife and daughter because of it. Shame welled up in him but was swiftly chased away with the feeling of Jinx's hand covering his and the sweet smile they gave him. The next few weeks were honestly the best of Frankie's life. The couple had come to an agreement  that they would keep whatever was going on between the two of them to themselves. To allow their relationship to bloom without any outside interference (i.e The Miller brothers) Frankie would wake up to texts wishing him good morning which made his day that much brighter. They would sneak in  frequent date nights and their stolen kisses always made him feel like a teenager. His favourite night had to be when they had went out a drive in his truck and sat in the bed of it looking at the stars and making up constellations to make each other laugh. He had made sure to bring a blanket with them and the feeling of Jinx in his arm's quietened all the noise in his head. He was finally at peace.

Of course he felt guilty about sneaking around with Jinx behind his brothers backs but the more time they spent together, the less Frankie began to care about the 'betrayal' His friends started to get a bit suspicious of his sudden shiftiness but Frankie was quick to assure them that everything was fine. And everything was fine until one Santiago fucking Garcia had to go and ruin everything. One night after a nice dinner and drinks at a nearby restaurant, Frankie and Jinx ended up back at his house for the evening. As soon as the front door closed, the couple were all over each other unable to keep their hands to themselves. Giggling, Jinx dragged Frankie to the couch before playful pushing him onto the couch and quickly straddling him. Hands roam each other's bodies and they are just getting into the swing of things when the front door was rudely thrown open and Santiago came marching in

"Frankie what the fuck man why aren't you answering my tex....."

Santi stopped abruptly in the living room doorway, doing a perfect imitation of a fish. Both parties just stare at one another before Santi suddenly points at them and shouts

" I fucking knew it!!!!"

" Please, you didn't know shit" Jinx scoffs while Frankie hid his face in his hands out of sheer embarrassment of being caught. Sighing, he gently rolled Jinx off him onto the couch and received a confused look in return. Frankie dragged himself off the couch and made his way to Santiago, grabbing his shoulders and looking him straight in the eye.

" Pope, I need you to listen to me right now ok, this is important. Me and Jinx have been seeing each other for a couple of months now and its going so good man. I haven't been this happy in a long time. But you CANNOT say anything to Will or Benny about what you saw. If they find out they're going to kill me!"

Santi looks between the two of you, noticing the way Jinx nervously bites their lip, waiting for his answer. Crossing his heart, Santiago nudges Frankie.

"Don't worry guys, your secrets safe with me"

What a load of shit.

 *a few weeks later *

"OK boys listen up! I want a clean fight. Smack talk is allowed but absolutely no contact or you will be disqualified." Jinx announces to the room.

On one side of the table, Santi is rubbing Frankie's shoulder, furiously whispering instructions into his ear, while his friend is just nodding numbly along but not really taking anything in. Across the way he sees the Miller boys sending him death glares. Frankie gulps, why did it have to come to this?

After Santi (who still feels really guilty about it) accidentally let it slip at boy's night the previous evening that Frankie and Jinx where sneaking about together, shit hit the fucking fan. In a slight rage, Benny had tried to strangle Frankie for "breaking the bro code" while Santi  tried to pry them apart all the while pleading Fish for forgiveness. Will  was pacing the floor off to the side giving Jinx a lecture down the phone about the sanctity of brothers in arms and " WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE FRANKIE JINX?"

Eventually the drama had simmered down and an agreement  had been made. This would be settled through a good old game of Beer Pong (which Jinx had picked because the whole crew were all abysmal at it) The terms and condition where as follows:  If Frankie's team won, he could continue seeing jinx to his hearts content and nothing would be said on the matter.  If the Millers won then Frankie was to never see the youngest Miller again and would be forced to live a life of exile ( Will eventually talked his brother down to Fish having to spend a week in the 'doghouse' for his transgressions) Jinx was chosen to referee the match because there wasn't anyone else who could come out to play at such short notice. The only reason Jinx let this go this far was so that their brothers go to do the whole 'overprotective' thing. They scoff at the thought that benny and Will actually believed they had a say in the new relationship.

Regardless of the outcome, Frankie was going home with them tonight.

"Like all great battles, this is to win the hand of your one true love. We know Benny can't shoot for shit so it's Will we have to keep an eye on. We've got this hermano" Santi whispers in Frankie's ear.

The next hour descends into complete chaos as the boy trashed talk one another and take dirty shots and became the most competitive they have ever been in their life. Eventually a tie breaker between the two teams causes a hush fall  over the room. This next one would the deciding shot, his last chance. Santi solemnly hands Frankie the ball. No Pressure. Inhaling deeply, Frankie sends up a prayer and takes the shot......

A rabble of noise descends over the room. It takes him a while to understand that Pope is screaming in triumph while Benny is screaming in outrage.  Frankie finds himself quickly scooped up into a hug, with Santi chanting " WE WON, WE WON!!!" in his ear. When he is eventually put back down, he turns round to see Jinx doubled over , tears streaming down their face, laughing  at the madness. There is a tight feeling in his chest as he suddenly realises just how much he loves them.  Sensing movement just behind him, Frankie quickly turns to see Will beside him. The eldest Miller stares him straight in the eye before sighing and shaking his head.

"Listen Fish, i'm not gonna lie I am not 100% ok with this situation. In my eyes, no one is ever going to be good enough for Jinx, but I suppose if they HAVE to be with someone then you are the best man for the job."

Frankie lets out a breath he didn't even realise he was holding. He sticks his hand out to Will who takes it and gives it a firm shake.

"You have no idea how much of a weight that is off my shoulders man. What about Benny?"

" He'll come around eventually, he's just really overprotective of Jinx." Will reassures, clapping Fish on the back and heading into the kitchen to get a beer.

Frankie's shoulders slump in relief that this whole debacle is over. No more sneaking around, stealing kisses and quiet moments together. No more having to keep his feelings a secret. He can still hear Benny grumbling away in the background, arguing that the game was rigged and demanding a rematch. Santi being the shit stirrer that he is, cackles and continues to wind him up, calling him a sore loser. Frankie finally glances back to Jinx who is leaning against the wall smirking at him.

" Ready to claim your prize Francisco?"

Frankie's heart soars.

[babybuckleydiaz]

Here's a prompt for you: Post-Eddie Begins coda where they're married, they don't say much as they make their way home, Eddie goes to grab a shower, and after a few minutes of cleaning himself up, Buck joins him without warning. No, it doesn't have to be smutty, just them holding each other under the water, Buck starting to break down at the thought of almost losing Eddie, and Chris almost losing his dad.

Warnings; spoilers, and cursing. Married buddie. Hurt/comfort.

Honestly, writing married buddie is one of my favourite things. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you like it :) and honestly it’s been fun writing for other people, so thank you.

  The car is completely silent as they make their way home from the hospital, the only sound being that of the wind outside and soft barely heard music coming from the radio. Buck’s eyes stare forward as he continues to drive, every few moments Eddie looking over at his husband in concern at the silence that seems also deafening to him. Buck is never this quiet, even after a bad call, usually he lets useless facts out to distract himself.  But this time he doesn’t say a single word, but he doesn’t need to for Eddie to know what’s going through his head.

  Bobby had told him of Buck’s reaction today, about his husband screaming his name as he dug into the dirt with numbingly bare hands to reach his partner. His heart had ached at the mere thought of what today had put his husband  through, and despite his own aches and pains he just wants his loved one to feel better. It isn’t going to happen right now though, both of the men needing the silence to wrap their heads around what had unfolded on their call. Eddie needs to wrap his own head around how close he was to dying today, how close he was to leaving his husband and son to carry on without him. He would do the same move again though, he would chose to cut that line again because all knew that if he didn’t try to save the boy than he never would have forgiven himself. Every time he looked at his own son, he would have thought about it.

  They get home, and both are thankful for the fact that Maddie and Chimney had offered to take Christopher in for the night; not after both of the men had given their boy a hug that lasted longer than they can remember.

  Buck is still silent as they walk in side, as he throws his keys onto the kitchen table without caring where they land. Eddie stands still for a moment, just letting his eyes follow his husband’s movement as the younger male moves around the house like a zombie, eyes alarmingly blank as he gets some water and hands it to Eddie.

  “Hey, I’m gonna jump in the shower.” Eddie lets him know, knowing that Buck would appreciate knowing where he is and not just disappearing; not after everything that happened today. In return, Buck nods his head and musters up the best smile that he can; it’s small and sad but it’s one none the less. Moving over and pressing a kiss to Buck’s forehead, letting his lips linger there for a moment longer than he needed to, feeling Buck sigh contently and lean into the loving touch. He makes his way into the bathroom, shedding himself out of his clothing and he turns on the hot water; just needing to wash away the day.

  Sighing in relief when the hot water touches his skin, Eddie braces his hands against the wall as he closes his eyes and just soaks the soothing touch in. It’s a moment after that he can hear the door open, and he doesn’t need to peak around the shower curtain to know that his husband has entered the room; deadly quiet. He hears what he knows is Buck undress, letting his clothes fall onto the floor without a care as to where he dumps them; a moment later the shower curtain is pulled back to reveal a teary eyed man.

  “Oh sweetheart.” Eddie says as he gently places his arm on Buck’s bicep and guides him into the shower and under the stream of hot water. That’s when Buck’s breath hitches and he drops his head onto his husband’s shoulder. Eddie begins by washing Buck’s hair, letting gentle and soothing fingers roam over his scalp in a way he knows comfort his husband.

  “I’m still here.” Eddie declares, unprompted. His voice is so soft, almost like speaking too loudly would break this calmness that surrounds them. In return, Buck is still silent as he nods his head. Eddie can see that he’s trying to wrap his head around his thoughts, can imagine the wheels in Buck’s head turning as he pieces together what he wants to say.

  “But you almost weren’t, Eddie.”

  Buck’s voice breaks when he speaks his partner’s name, the first sob breaking through as his shoulders tremble with the force of it. For a moment Eddie doesn’t know what he can say, because he knows that fear of almost losing the man he loved when Buck was stuck under the ladder truck. That choking fear that the next time he sees his partner will be when they’re placing him in a body bag, and it kills him to know that he caused that fear in Buck. “I almost lost you, Chris almost lost you.” Buck presses on, and he lifts his head and looks at Eddie under the stream of flowing water.

  “I know, and I’m sorry I scared you. But I’m okay. I’m still alive and here with you.” Consoles Eddie, momentarily able to ignore how sore his body is from this call because his main focus is on the man in his arms. “Let me wash your hair.” Buck suddenly says, and Eddie doesn’t bother saying that he’s already done it because this is something that Buck wants to do, just touching his husband means that he’s still here.

  The next few moments are still quiet, and every few moments Eddie hears Buck sniff as he tries to keep his tears at bay; and for the moment Eddie just lets him. He feels how Buck’s hands tremble as he finishes washing his hair, can feel them grip that little bit tighter than usual in his own way of convincing himself that his husband is still alive.

  “I’m mad at you.” Eddie knows that, of course he does, because he’s always beyond mad every time Buck pulls a stunt that could cost him his life. So instead, he nods his head instead of trying to defend his actions. “I know, baby.” Is what he settles on, and another moment Buck doesn’t say anything before he begins to openly weep, hiding his hands in his face before Eddie takes him into his arms. Still with his hands covering his reddening face, Buck leans into Eddie’s shoulder as he feels one hand run soothing motions on his back and the other scratch at the hair on the back of his head.

  “Y-You could have died! You almost left me and Chris, you asshole.” Eddie nods his head as he takes in what Buck is saying, just lets him talk because he knows it’s what the younger needs right now. “I can’t raise our son on my own! We need you, Eddie.” Tears are burning in Eddie’s eyes now, and he doesn’t bother blinking them back; he lets them slide down his cheeks. “You could, you know you could. But you don’t have to, I’m still here.”

  Eddie has full faith that Buck could raise Christopher on his own, he’s seen firsthand how amazing he is what their kid and how much he loves him. Buck is a wonderful father and doesn’t hesitate in letting his love for Christopher show, he would go through hell for that boy. Maybe if he wasn’t thinking of this because of what happened today, Buck would have also said that he could raise Christopher on his own. But right now, he needs the reassurance that he doesn’t have to do that. “Shh, I’m right here. You’re not alone, neither of you are. Shh.” Soothed Eddie, and to his own ears he can hear how his own voice trembles as he thinks about how close he came to leaving them alone. He doesn’t want to leave his boys yet, he still has so much he has to do with his family and he will always fight like hell to get back to them.

  “You ever almost die again, I’ll kill you.”

  Eddie chuckles when Buck says that after a second of just breathing in the scent of his husband, moving his hands away from his face and wrapping his arms around the shorter man. “Deal, I give you full permission.” He retorts, knowing that if Buck is able to begin joking about it he was coming out of whatever place he had let his mind travel to. They could begin to work passed this.

  “Do you wanna go to sleep or watch a movie, love?” Questions Eddie as he pulls away from the embrace they shared just enough to love at his husband’s face, to brush away the tears that had fallen. The younger man takes a moment to respond as he thinks about the choice, trying to figure out what is better for them right now. “Can we watch a movie. I…” He paused, trailing off for a second. “I don’t think I can fall asleep just yet.” He admits, and Eddie just smiled at his husband; thankful that Buck was being honest about what he needed right now. “We can do that, sweetheart.”

  “I really like the nicknames.” Buck suddenly says, and Eddie can just feel how his heart swells in pure love at the soft look that adorns his husband’s face. “Makes me feel… warm.” He admits and Eddie can’t help his chuckle and leans forward to peck a kiss to Buck’s lips before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Good, because I like saying them.” Responds the dark haired male as he turns around and turns off the shower water; at this point keen to just curl up on the couch with his husband. “Oh I left some pain meds on the table for you, and a bottle of water.” Buck suddenly says with a louder tone, an obvious sign that he had almost forgotten to let his partner know that little piece of information that he had meant to say when he entered the room.

  “Thank you, baby. I know you get a headache after crying, so I want you to take some as well if that happens.” Eddie instructs as he climbs out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist and handing another one to Buck to use. Buck hums and nods his head in response, and Eddie takes that as an answer as the two of them migrate to the bedroom.

  “We picking up Chris tomorrow? I think we need a Buckley-Diaz family day.” Questioned Eddie, already knowing that no matter what mood they are in that their little man can brighten up their day with his charming smile. Something that both of them needed and loved, and Buck is quick to nod his head. “Yeah, we can do that. I promised him we could get ice cream before he went with Maddie.” Buck retorts as he pulls on his clothing, yawning despite not wanting to sleep as he waits for Eddie to dress as well.

  Buck sees that his partner is struggling to throw his shirt over his shoulders, his body sore and beginning to protest now that they have finally calmed down. Without hesitation or thinking about it, Buck makes his way over and uses gentle hands to help ease the material only his body; Eddie smiling at him gratefully. “Go sit down, I’ll bring in your water and pain meds.” Buck instructs, and Eddie just thanks him with a kiss; not needing to use words to show that he’s grateful.

  Right now, in this moment, he and Buck were okay and that’s all he would focus on.

[wickedbarnes]

He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not | John Wick x Reader

PROMPT: Hanahaki Disease AU! Reader realizes she's in love with John but John, on the other hand, can't reciprocate the feelings because he's still in love with Helen. And so, reader begins to cough blood red rose petals...

WARNING: Major angst. Blood. Get your tissues ready.

NOTE: This is my take on the fictional disease so please don't attack me if some of the concepts of it is wrong. I just did it so there would be more impact to the story. An explanation for my take on the Hanahaki will be provided down below at the end of the oneshot to avoid any confusions. Other than that, please enjoy!

--

If there was one thing you hated doing, it was breaking promises. And you rarely did it unless it was really necessary. But you hated it when you did. And this... this was a promise you swore you would never break. But here you were, staring down at your bloody palm, examining the rose petals that stuck to your skin.

A lone tear cascaded down your cheek as you wiped the blood from your lips.

It finally got to you. The disease. The same disease that had killed your beloved Mother. And you were sure it was the same one that was going to kill you.

You vividly remembered how your Mother would gush about how beautiful love was. How magical it is and how you'd feel as if you were floating when you experienced it. And in a way, she has a point. But not everything was easy.

Because along with love comes pain. The pain of a broken heart. And as you grew up you realized that love was only beautiful when it was reciprocated. When the person you love is in love with you as well. But like your mom, you weren't so lucky.

You had no one but John now. When your Mother died of the Hanahaki Disease, you swore- vowed, rather, that you would never fall in love. But that was, until John.

The moment you saw the man, you could tell just how miserable he seemed but there was something about him that just drew you in. He charmed women without even noticing it. And so you did the unthinkable and was bold enough to go ask him what drink he wanted and that it was on you.

You worked as a bartender in the Red Circle. And when you spotted John you had no idea what type of man he was and what type of world he lives in. But even after that, you didn't care. You still stuck with him.

And you didn't even plan on doing so. You just wanted to give the man something to look forward to. Something to give him a little boost. But when chaos broke and you were almost shot by Viggo's men, John was brave enough to catch the bullet himself before the rest of them ran out thinking they had finally killed the Baba Yaga.

That night, you couldn't just leave him there dying. You had insisted he goes to the hospital but he told you not to and instructed you to take him to the Continental. The hotel where you didn't even know housed assassins like him. You didn't know why but you had stayed with him the whole while he was being patched up despite the fact he kept telling you to leave because it would be dangerous.

But the stubborn person you are, you decided to stay. And the rest was history from there.

You felt it creep up on you. You could tell because you felt the same itch in your throat that didn't seem to go away ever since your feelings for John got stronger. But the moment you realized you were in love with him, fate had finally decided to give you a sign that the feelings you have for the man just wasn't mutual.

And in a way, you kind of understood why. The wedding band on John's finger was proof of that. It was the proof of his undying love for his late wife, Helen. Who were you to compete with that?

The whole situation caused you to let a laugh under your breath. How ironic. John Wick never intends on hurting you. And yet here he was, being the reason why you're ill today.

---

"Y/N, you need to rest, you've been coughing all day and you don't look too good. I can handle it from here." John tried to approach you but you instinctively moved away from him and sat down on the couch yourself. Your reaction took him aback but he quickly regained his composure and sat down next to you but made sure to give you some distance.

You were pretty sure the handkerchief you were coughing into was full of blood by now and you prayed no petal would fall off or it would only worry John even more. You suspected he knows about the disease as well.

Day by day, it was getting hard for you to breathe. You knew the plant inside your lungs was growing and every night you had battled and hoped it wouldn't be your last night. Even sleeping had come to terrify you. You were afraid you wouldn't wake up anymore.

"Y/N, are you alright? You're not telling me what's going on, I have to know so I can take care of you." John would say, concern written all over his face and your heart ached at the sight because you knew he only meant that as a friend.

"I'm fine, John, I'll be okay I told you it's just allergies." You sighed and stood up to get a glass of water when you felt the familiar itch on your throat creeping up again. But the moment you took a step forward, you leaned forward and began to heave as you wretched out blood along with rose petals on John's floor.

You somehow felt embarrassed but your body fell on the floor as you kept throwing up blood. John was almost sure he would've had a heart attack with what he saw. He immediately went over to you and rubbed your back, panic beginning to creep up in his body.

This was like when Helen was ill.

When you were finished throwing up, you opened your mouth to apologize but you found yourself going limp and passing out in John's arms.

John looked at the blood and rose petals that were smeared all over his floor. The realization hit him like a truck as his face began to go pale. He looked down at your unconscious body in horror.

"Y/N, what the hell..."

---

John couldn't even fathom looking at you like this. Pale and sickly looking. He hadn't noticed just how much you had lost weight and how horrible the bags under your eyes looked. You were always with him but he was too caught up in work that he barely had time to see how his friend was doing.

He knew about the Hanahaki disease. John remembered how someone in Ruska Roma died because of it. But he never expected you to get it.

The assassin pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned back against the uncomfortable plastic chair. Who the hell were you in love with? You had never mentioned anyone from work that caught your eye. Nor did you introduce anyone to John. The idea of someone being the root of all this caused him to clench his fists until his knuckles turned white.

Whoever it was that didn't love you back, John was sure he was going to get a piece of his damn mind.

John's thoughts were cut off when the doctor came in and greeted him with a polite smile. When he looked at Y/N's records, the doctor let out a sigh and John knew this wasn't a good sign.

"Does she have family?" The doctor, Dr. Mercer had asked to which John responded by shaking his head no.

"I'm the only one she has now." Dr. Mercer nodded.

"Mr. Wick, I'm gonna be honest. Miss Y/L/N is in critical condition. The amount of blood that she threw up was very alarming. I'm sure you're aware of the Hanahaki Disease?" John nodded solemnly at the question and never took his eyes off you.

"Well, the plant inside her lungs is growing more and more. And it won't be long until it fully suffocates her. Looking at her x-rays right here, you can see that the plant is almost corrupting her lungs fully." Dr. Mercer showed your x-ray scan to John to which he took carefully and it only made the situation even real.

Was he going to lose another important person in his life? He already lost Helen and Daisy. He only has Dog now. Could he really lose you, too?

"Is there a cure to this?"

"There is. But... both of them aren't as easy as they sound." John looked up at the doctor with a confused look causing Dr. Mercer to sigh.

"In order to cure the patient, the person she's in love with has to love her back. And I don't mean platonic love. I mean, real genuine love. If that doesn't work, then we can surgically remove the root of the plant from her lungs."

John perked up at the mention of surgical removal of the plant. Obviously, whoever this person is didn't love you enough to even cure you. John felt that option two was the only logical option left. Or else, you'd die.

"I think I'd like the plant to be surgically removed from her."

"Mr. Wick, I think the patient has to decide for that. Because even though it could cure her, it would erase everything she felt and remembered about the person. Once the operation is done and successful, that person never existed for her. And unfortunately, Y/N here would be stripped away of the ability to experience romantic love. The removal of the root will cause that as well."

John couldn't believe what he was hearing. Y/N won't experience romantic love anymore? He looked at your frail body and put a hand over his face. He'd heard Dr. Mercer excuse himself but all John could think of was how he was going to save you.

He doesn't want you to live up your life not knowing how it feels to be in love and be loved by the person you're in love with. But if you don't do anything about this, you'd be six feet underground and time was slowly running out.

John's thoughts abruptly stopped when he noticed you waking up from a deep sleep. You had been out of it for about fourteen hours.

You fluttered your eyes open and took in your surroundings. Your throat felt really dry and you could use a tall drink of water. Looking around, your eyes soon fell on John who stood up from his chair and smiled softly down at you.

Your heart fluttered at how beautiful he is. You almost mistook him for an angel.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" He asked softly and brushed away some of your hair away from your face. His touch sent shivers down your spine and in a way, it hurt for him to be here. He was so gentle and patient. Was he like that with Helen? Or was he even more loving when it came to her?

"Like death." You laughed softly as you averted your eyes to the glass of water that was sitting on the table beside your bed, "Can I get a drink, please?"

John immediately took the glass of water and helped you sit up from your bed so you could drink. You were dehydrated from the amount of blood you just threw up hours ago. John gently patted your head when he saw that you drank all of the water from the glass.

"Good girl." He'd praise you and your heart swelled at it but it made you cough a bit.

John sat back down on the plastic chair but brought it closer by your bed as he looked at you in the eye.

"Y/N, who did this to you?" He asked. It took you about a minute to figure out what he was on about. And then you remembered the disease. Your situation probably took a turn for the worse and you assumed what had happened earlier almost scared John to death.

"Y/N." John sighed. "You're one of my most trusted friend. The only friend I probably trust with my whole life, really. But you need to tell me what the fuck is going on. You're dying, honey, and someone is the cause of all this and it's frustrating that I don't know who it is."

It's you, you wanted to say but the words didn't come out the way you wanted them to. You didn't want to see the look on John's face when you laid out the truth. Even now, on the verge of death, you were afraid of what he'd think. You knew he has a lot on his plate and he's just getting the chance to finally grieve for Helen. You didn't want nor had the heart to tell him that he's the reason why you're dying.

"It's no one, John, he-" You pursed your lips and let out a breath as you looked down at your hands that were slightly stained with your own blood, "He went away he- he loves someone else and that's all you need to know."

John nodded and although he was frustrated you didn't tell him everything, you knew it was just because you didn't wanna dive back into the fact that this person didn't reciprocate the feelings you felt. So he understood.

"Y/N, Dr. Mercer gave me two options so you could be cured and he-"

"John, I can't be cured, he doesn't love me." You said firmly and it felt so different saying it in front of him like this when he has no idea it was him all along that you were in love with.

"I know, darling, I know." He grabbed your hand comfortingly and you almost hated him for acting like this when all along you knew it was just platonic. You were just a friend to him. Nothing more and nothing less.

"But then he told me about option two. Option two is that you can get the plant surgically removed from your lungs." You perked up at hearing this.

You never knew it could get surgically removed. Your mother never told you. So why didn't she do it?

"W-What? What do you mean I can get it surgically removed?" You asked as tears began to fill your eyes but John was patient enough to talk you through it.

"You can, it's possible. But it's not that easy, Y/N." He let out another sigh before looking up at your tear filled eyes, "When the operation is successful, all the memories you have of that person will be gone. Including your feelings for him. It was like he never existed. Apart from that, once the plant is removed from your body, you ability to experience romantic love wouldn't be there anymore."

Tears cascaded down your cheeks. Not because you wouldn't be able to fall in love again. But because the thought of forgetting John scared you so much. Were you going to remember him again? Can he reintroduce himself again to you? Or should you not go through with option two?

At that moment, you finally realized why your mother never had the plant inside her get removed. It was far more painful than anything else.

---

"I'm sorry for your loss, Jonathan." Winston would say as he poured a drink for the assassin and John just nodded at him in thanks.

"Some things are beyond our control." John replied as he took a big gulp of his drink. He needed it right now after all.

He just came back from the hospital and that was the first time in a while John had felt so overwhelmed. The hatred he had for himself just increased a ton.

You decided to go through with the operation after giving it a deep thought for a the whole day. John was happy. Although you weren't able to experience romantic love anymore, he assured you he'd be by your side every step of the way. Just like you had been for him.

But what came next almost made him collapse down to his knees.

Aurelio decided to pay you a little visit when your operation was done. He had found out about what had happened from John and you knew the man well enough that he could give you discounts whenever your car had problems.

When it was time for visitors, John felt ecstatic. You were alive. He wasn't losing someone important from him again. When they got inside the room, you had already woken up and had a nurse slowly help you sit up from your bed but the moment your eyes fell on John, he noticed the slight confusion written on your face.

"Y/N, God, I'm so happy the operation was successful." John smiled and tucked a piece of your hair and he noticed how your body stilled from the touch as you looked up at him with wide eyes.

Thhe reaction was weird but John brushed it off and thought that maybe, it was a side effect from the pain killers you'd been taking.

"Aurelio's here and brought you some stuff. You like those cookies from the bakery near his shop, right?" You found yourself nodding slowly at the man's question even though you had no idea who he is.

Who was he? And how does he know your name? How did he know you liked those chocolate chip cookies from that bakery near Aurelio's shop? It was starting to freak you out.

John took notice of your reaction and the nurse excused herself when she was finished checking your vitals. John put a finger underneath your chin to make you look up at him and in your eyes, he saw fear.

You never looked at him like that. Never. Not even once.

"Y/N, darling, what's wrong? Did I do something, why are you-"

"Who are you?" You asked, cutting him off and John looked at Aurelio to see if what he heard was right.

Aurelio looked at him and then back at you with shock written on his face.

"What? Y/N, it's me, John. Your friend, your best friend." John replied but you had no recollection of the man in front of you so you shook your head slowly.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so confused I don't know who you are." You apologized shyly and looked at Aurelio. "Aurelio, is he a friend of yours? I really don't remember him, I don't wanna seem so rude."

John stood there in his spot, completely frozen. You remember Aurelio but you had forgotten him. That could only mean one thing...

"Come on, Y/N, stop fooling around this isn't funny. Tell me you're just joking and you know who I am." John's voice was laced with desperation now and you took notice of how his eyes were starting to fill with tears and you had a sense he hated crying in front of people.

Why did you feel so guilty? As if you'd done something wrong?

You looked up at the man apologetically and shook your head at him. "I'm so sorry, John, I really don't know who you are. I believe I just met you. Aurelio would have introduced you to me back then but... I don't remember that he has."

John couldn't take it. Everything was so overwhelming. When he gruffly excused himself you watched as he hurriedly made his way out of your room and Aurelio followed soon after probably to chase after him.

You had no idea of who he was but you could never forget how heartbroken he seemed when he looked at you.

Did you know him before?

John, on the other hand, needed to get out of there and he ignored Aurelio's calls as he got into his car and sped down the road. He felt guilty for leaving you there all alone, probably so confused as to why you were there in the first place but he just needed to have his space.

And so here he was, sharing a drink with Winston.

"You weren't entirely fair with her as well, Jonathan. You couldn't blame her if she hadn't told you."

"I was grieving for my wife." John stated to which Winston replied with a hum.

"But you could've showed her you felt the same way. Maybe told her. Hanahaki disease is a complicated kind of illness. Y/N believed you were still in love with Helen. And maybe you still are. That's why she was on the verge of dying that day. But it could all have been cured if you two had just acted on your feelings right away. A lot of people die from that, you know."

John stayed silent and poured himself another drink.

He had moved on from Helen a year after the whole incident with Viggo and his son. If Helen was alive, she would've wanted John to live his life fully and that was the only way he could honor her. And he did, and that was thanks to you.

You were like a breath of fresh air and John was scared he might ruin the peace that you had in your life. And he kind of did in a way. But you were too stubborn to leave until he just couldn't handle the thought of you leaving.

Like you, it crept up on John and the familiar itch on his throat, as if he was about to cough kept popping out of nowhere. Especially when you were near him. And for a moment, he didn't want to believe he caught it. He couldn't be possibly catching feelings for you it was a dangerous game to play.

John believed everything he touched turns to ash and he wasn't turning you into one. You deserved far more better than that. And it'd be impossible for you to feel the same way about him, he's too damaged to be loved at this point. But it's true when they say that you can't help who you fall in love.

But today, today was different than the others. John placed the glass down and leaned back on his chair and soon leaned forward when he began to cough and cough and cough.

Winston looked at John with an unreadable expression on his face. As if he knew it was coming. Somehow, he felt bad for the man. He had lost his wife and the dog she gave to him. And in a way he lost you even though you were still perfectly alive.

And now the disease had caught up to him.

His hunch was right when he saw the blood on John's palm. John stared down at it and noticed that there were petals of your favorite flower sticking onto his hand along with his own blood.

The assassin stayed silent as he grabbed his handkerchief from his coat and wiped the bloody residue off his skin.

Winston poured the man another drink but this time, he didn't pour himself some. He knew John needed it more than he did.

"Are you going to remove it or not?"

John looked at Winston but the manager took it upon himself to get up from the chair and leave Jonathan alone in the rooftop to decide.

This was all a bad case of wrong timing and lack of courage, obviously. And John leaned back against the chair and pinched the bridge of his nose as he felt a tear slip down his cheek.

Was he ready to go? Or will he risk forgetting about you like you did to him?

John realized just how difficult this all was. He realized now that it hurt to have you forget about him completely. Like he was dead to you. But knowing you, you would've made the decision just so you could live for John's sake. He knew you decided to live even though it would be hard on the both of you.

Because in your mind, you probably chose to live and see John again even though you had forgotten about him rather than die and let him live this world all alone without you.

But would it be the same for John? Could he really forget about you? Or was it time for him to go and let you be free?

Either way, as he began to cough once again, he knew that he needed to think fast and decide.

Time is gold and he's slowly running out of that.

---

A/N: I know in some stories this is not how the Hanahaki disease works but this is my take on it. Reader almost died because she believed that John would never love her the way she did. When all along, John was slowly developing feelings for her and while he did, he also didn't believe she'd have feelings for him because he believes he's too damaged to be loved. To put it shortly, my understanding of the Hanahaki is that as long as the protagonist believes the enamoured doesn't love them back, they'll slowly die. But as long as the enamoured confesses to the protagonist, they'll be cured of the disease. And if that doesn't work, the plant can be surgically removed.

The disease caught up to John and the reader because they didn't act upon their feelings and confessed to each other right away. They both believed everything was platonic between them. As a result, they kept it to themselves until it slowly killed them. In other words, this is all a bad case of wrong timing and lack of courage to say what they really wanted to say to each other.

[faythelyse]

Joji x Reader {female reader} Apocalyptic setting. Part two.

It had been about a week since I had invited the two new men to our community. Tending to George became a regular part of my day. Cleaning the wound and dressing it atleast 2 times a day. He has slept through all of it, I wonder when he will come to. Ben and Ashlee have been going out every day for a supply run. We haven't been this stocked since everything shut down.

Ashlee had grown close to Ben already, they go out frequently on supply runs, and spend most of their waking time fixing up the truck that is now currently running. To top it all off we haven't seen any infected near the community in 3 days. On my way to now to what is basically George and Bens room. I think they might end up living here for a long time. The thought of that made me smile.

I walk in medical bag in hand ready to dress up his wound. He was actually sitting up with his legs crossed. He appeared groggy, but smiled as I entered. "Did you sleep well?" I asked in a happy tone. Sitting next to him I open up my bag and start getting stuff ready. George starts to try and rip at the medical tape around his bandages.

I reach out and stop him with my hand. "Here let me help" I take a cotton ball and soak it in baby oil and wipe it all around the edges of the tape. He watches quietly.

"Let that sit a bit." I got up to throw the cotton ball away and his eyes followed me around the room.

"Thank you" he says as I sit back in front of him. "Where is Ben? "How long have I been out?"

"Ben is out in the garage with Ashlee, unless they have left already. They are heading out to get stuff to build up our walls a bit more, and you have been out for about 5 days. Did you dream?"

He rubbed his eyes "Um. Yeah, I did." He watched as I pulled out new clean bandages and tape. I start to softly pull off the tape around his ribs and chest. "You've been taking care of me all this time." I nod and continue to remove everything.

He winces as I clean his injury. Its healing. "You are lucky. It seems to be healing up great."

"Thanks to you.. We were lucky to stumble across you. I don't even recall what your name is."

"It's Y/N, if there's anything else you need just let me know" Right as I was close to the door he speaks up again.

"Can you just stay a moment with me. Ben and I haven't seen any others in months. It's nice to just be around someone who isn't infected."

"I understand. The girls and I who make up this community were getting restless not having anyone else to communicate with besides the raiders who come by to give us a hard time and steal our food."

"Raiders come and steal your food?" George looked genuinely worried knowing we really weren't in a good position to fight back.

"They killed Elenas fiance awhile back. We have tolerated them ever since." You look away not knowing what else to say on the subject. You couldn't yet explain to him that one of the raiders was especially infatuated with you and you had no choice but to go on tolerating it with no real way to fight back.

You change the subject "SO what did you do before the world shut down?"

"I made music. I still make music really. Just no ones around to hear it.. " He scratches the back of his neck nervously. "I heard you singing the other day when you came in to clean up the room."

You immediately blush. You don't sing in front of anyone.

"Don't be embarrassed" he laughed so casually "Y/N you sounded beautiful."

You smile nervously still not able to say anything. You could feel your face get hot as he just sat and stared at you for a moment.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to secretly listen in, I just didn't want you to stop.."

Ashlee opens the door "Y/N! We kind of have a small emergency." She motions for you to follow her. Before you leave you grab a pen and some paper from the desk in the corner of the room and lay it on Georges lap. "To write music." You say and smile before leaving the room.

George feeling great about finally having someone else to bond with besides Ben is immediately struck with inspiration and starts writing. George glances over at the green coat he had been injured in and has a flash of memories about the night he had met you. The tone of your sweet voice bounces around his head. Your messy hair, soft eyes and pouty lips had immediately drawn him to you. He wanted to know you.

Ben bursts in and plops down whilst shoving an immense amount of potatoe chips into his mouth. "They have ramen" he says with a mouthful. George rolls his eyes and smiles at his friend. "Yeah Im doing fine, thanks for asking dickhead."

"Aw come on, I knew you'd be fine, you've literally eaten a hair cake and survived." Ben laughs and shoves more chips in his mouth.

"You keep bringing that up like it's some life achievement." George manages to stand up and leans up against the wall next to the window. Ben walks over and gazes out the window with him. Ashlee and Y/N are outside trying their best to catch a mean goose that had laid her eggs in Elenas garden. They had plans to catch and breed her for food. George and Ben laugh quietly while watching this go down. "So what do you think of the girls? They seem great right?" Ben watches Ashlee, he is clearly into her.

"I actually completely agree with you on this one. They are great.." He says while thinking of you. "What if the people who gave me this" he points out his woind" find us here. Then we are putting them in danger."

Bens expression turns serious. "How are they going to find us? Besides if I see those fuckers again I'll be prepared this time."

"They found us last time, and we barely escaped.."

"That was last time, this is different. Have trust." Ben slaps George on the shoulder and starts to leave " Besides, we owe these girls. It wont hurt to stay awhile."

"And your dick has no alternative motivation for this?"

Ben smirks "Of course not, I have no idea what you are implying. " he shuts the door behind him.

George still by the window looks over the area for a moment. A garden was out in the right corner of the yard where a young woman was planting seeds while talking to

Y/N, who was sitting on a nearby stone bench. She appeared to be writing. George thought for a long time on if staying here was the right choice but something about Y/N made him want to linger a bit longer.

He walked outside, and stood behind y/n for a moment before making her aware of his presence. She was so immersed in her writing she didn't hear him walk up.

"You have nice handwriting." George spoke softly but his gentle voice made y/n jump even higher. "Jesus, you scared me. Also its rude to spy on someone who is so obviously journaling." You slam your book shut hoping he hadn't read to much into what you were writing. His big dark brown eyes lightened slightly in the sun. "Could I get a tour of the place? We can talk about how to pay off my debt to you. I really owe you my life." He was serious. You stand up and glance over at Elena. Elena looks up and waves her hand at you giving you the okay to leave her to her garden. "Sounds good, I'll show you around." You lead him out the gate into the front yard. You turn around and show him the full outside view of the house. "This is where we lived before we combined the house behind us, we decided it would be better to have a larger space, and fenced in both backyards, even cleared the second house. Now we have plenty of room in and out without having to worry about infected." You both walk back in, you lead him around the kichen and show him to all the rooms. "Where is your room?" You are starting to get the sense he could be flirting with you. You open the last room revealing your space. It was filled with old cds, books and papers, a bed with maybe too many blankets, and couple game systems hooked up to a tv that was plugged into a generator. "Homey" he says as he walks in making himself comfortable and plopping on your bed.

"You seem comfortable." You smile taking in his small gestures and goofy smiles as he gives your room a good look over. "Okay we can move on to the -" he interrupts you "Whats this?" He picks up a wrinkly piece of paper. It was a suicide note you had written a month or so ago after the raiders had killed elenas fiance and deemed you their new play thing. You didn't want to live in a world where you were trying so hard to survive only to get used whenever they decided to come back. Which was about twice a month. Sucked it up though. You care to deeply for all of your friends. You couldn't leave them to a worse fate. "I don't plan on doing that anymore. It's not a big deal." You whisper while looking down out of embarrassment. He walks up to you and pulls your chin up to meet his gaze. "Y/N I'm here to help if you need me." He pulls you into an unexpected hug. You relax in his arms. That was the moment he decided he didn't want to leave. He wanted to hold onto you and this peaceful place as long as possible. This felt like a dream to him. Ben and George had been wandering with no real home for atleast a couple years now. This felt like it could be home. "I'll pay my debt by helping you get rid of those assholes who think they can come by and take whatever they want." You push away from him. You knew this was dangerous, thinking about standing up to them at all made you sick to your stomach. We couldn't continue living in fear though. You nod your head in agreement. And you both walk back outside where everyone was circled up talking.

[canonconspiracy]

We Need To Talk About Benny

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Benny Lafitte x Reader

Warnings: Mild Swearing

Cross-posted on my wattpad (@rmorningstar21) in Supernatural One Shot Collection II.

__________

You could see it in Sam's puppy dog brown eyes that he was fuming.  The three of you had arrived on a case, and Sam had realized that the vampire that you and Dean had brought back from Purgatory after the Leviathan ordeal was living in the same town that there was some vampire sucking humans.  Dean and you both glanced to one another knowingly, before looking back at Sam.  

"It's not Benny," Dean said firmly, his emphasis on the not, as if Sam would need more of a pie chart to show that Dean was correct.  "He doesn't drink humans." 

"He's a vampire, Dean," Sam stated firmly in counter.  "Why isn't he dead?" 

"Neither of us would have been topside from purgatory if it wasn't for that vampire," Dean countered back, his face clearly contorting in anger.  Sam was his brother, but he was questioning his reasoning. It was almost logical, seeing as Dean had killed other supposedly good monsters, after all.  

Benny wasn't a monster, though.  He may have been a vampire, but you swore that man had a heart of gold.  Sam wouldn't understand the way that either of you did. The three of you had spent a full year in purgatory with him and Castiel, and none of you would have lived through purgatory without him. 

You would not have stayed sane without him.  Dean, your overprotective older brother, would have driven you crazy right along with the monsters that were ready to kill all of you.  At certain points, call yourself crazy, but purgatory was beginning to feel like home. It was all Benny's doing, though Castiel and Dean had both saved your ass more than a few times.  

"Benny is less of a monster than most humans," you muttered out, glaring at Sam.  "We'll find the damn vamp that's killing around here, but it sure as hell isn't him." 

"You two are both way too close to this," Sam said, before he ended up hitching it with another hunter to take down Benny.  It was someone who did not know Benny, just like Sam. They both just looked at him like he was a monster, while Dean and yourself both knew otherwise.  

Dean and you both knew that you needed to find Benny before the two hunters found him, along with the actual vampires that were killing the humans in this town.  After plenty of missed calls, the two of you had gone on the road to find him, scouring the surrounding area to find any sign of him. The two of you had split up and asked the locals about where he would be living.  Thankfully, you had finally gotten a lead.  

Despite the need that you had to see Benny alone, you had opted to go with Dean, especially if Sam and the other hunter were to find him before the two of you did.  When the two of you, guns drawn, walked into a secluded area that the locals had said he lived, you could hear a familiar southern drawl say, "If this is about the missed calls, I didn't want to get y'all involved."  When the two of you had gotten closer, you could see that he was merely wringing out some laundry. "Now, how about you two put the safety on and we can talk." 

You felt a rush fill your body as those blue eyes flickered over to you, and you had to fight the urge of your lips to curl up into a smile, though it lightly tugged upon your lips.  Dean had started talking first after the two of you had put your weapons down, saying, "There's a vampire feeding in this town, and you better tell us it's not you." 

"With Andrea gone and y'all back hunting, it seemed like time for a homecoming," Benny explained after shaking his head.  Both of you had known the answer far before Benny denying it after all. "You three being the only ones who kept my ducks in a row. Went back to my old job at the cafe.  I even found someone to hold myself accountable to. Best kind of someone, Dean." He smiled gently as he kept talking, before his eyes once again shifted to you before shifting back to Dean.  "Family." 

"Elizabeth," Dean and you had practically said at the same time.  Dean was more lustful, while you were more disappointed. You felt as if you missed your chance with the handsome vampire. 

That was, of course, until Benny had continued.  "My great-granddaughter," he said fondly. You stifled a laugh at the look upon Dean's face when he asked for confirmation with a really.  "Now, hold it.  You didn't, did you?" 

"Uh, no," Dean replied quickly, receiving a skeptical look from Benny.  

When Benny's eyes shifted to you once more, you could see his lips curl into a gentle smirk as he placed a hand upon your chin.  "It's wonderful to see you, Cher," he murmured out, causing you to blush darkly, a smile tugging at your lips.  

You were almost disappointed when he merely brought you into a tight embrace, though you were happy to feel his strong arms around you.  Hugging him back tightly, you said, "I've missed you, you know." 

As the two of you separated, you could see the longing look that he gave you before he turned to Dean, giving him a brotherly hug.  The two of them were as close as the two of you, after all, possibly even more. You just happened to be the Winchester to fall for Benny Lafitte.  

After your short lived reunion, the three of you had taken care of an entire vampire nest together, and had to deal with a hunter that held Elizabeth hostage to kill Benny.  He had to kill to save his great-granddaughter, and you were sure after everything was over that you would not see Benny again.  

To your relief, you had received a call on your phone to meet him at a gas station about 10 miles out from the town, and you had sped there faster than anyone would imagine.  Dean knew where you were going, and though he was iffy about the whole situation, he still allowed you to go. When you were face to face with Benny again, he had planned to merely say goodbye to you.  

"You better keep yourself out of trouble, Cher," he whispered, giving you a sad smile, his blue eyes never leaving your gaze.  

"Benny," you murmured out quietly.  "I don't want to be missing you again."  You were the one to bring your hand to his cheek, your hand tickled lightly by his facial hair as you brushed your thumb against his cheekbone, staring up at him.  Your hands were cold to the touch, though he had not seemed to mind, a soft smile tugging upon his lips as he nuzzled gently into your touch. It had been a while since anyone had gazed at him with that look, or touched him in the gentle, loving way.  Too long, for that matter. 

"I've never been a fan of long distance relationships," he said with a joking chuckle, his southern accent ringing out gently in your ears as he spoke, as if your favorite song had just turned on in your truck after a long, grueling hunt. 

"Neither have I been," you said softly to him, the smile tugging upon your lips gently.  "Nor have I been a fan of saying goodbye to you." 

As his light blue eyes bore into your own y/e/c orbs, you wondered where to go from there.  The man that you desired was so close, and you could easily close the gap between the two of you.  On the other hand, you could move your hand, instead merely embracing the charming vampire in a hearty goodbye, leaving the sentiments back in Purgatory where just maybe they belonged.  

The one thing you knew for certain as you were staring up into those light blue eyes was the love that you had for this man.  This man was charming, funny, and sweet. He may have been over 100 years old, even more so than that, and yet he had been less of a monster than more than half the men you've met in your own years.  

"Maybe, Cher," he whispered nervously in his southern drawl, "we don't have to say goodbye."  He gave you a hopeful smile, the kind of smile you knew you could never say no to. "If you're willing to settle down with a monster." 

You chuckled gently, a smile fully imprinted across your face as you shook your head.  "I won't be settling down with a monster," you said with a wink. "A charming southern gentleman that's saved my ass more times than I could count - well, that, I would adore." 

He gave you a curious look, as if he were testing the waters as he moved a little bit closer to you.  You could feel one of his hands move to the small of your back, beaconing you closer. Taking one last longing look into Benny's eyes, you wrapped your arms around his neck, closing the gap between the two of you.  The kiss was gentle, lips lovingly paced in sync with one another. His stubble tickled your face as you kissed him, and you could feel his arms move to your waist, pulling you closer.  

When the two of you were finally in need of oxygen, you separated, him resting his forehead against your own.  His light blue eyes stared into your own y/e/c eyes, and the southern gentleman had a quirky smirk across his lips.  "What would your brother Sam think of me stealing you away?" He questioned in his drawl, somewhat as a tease with light seriousness laced into it.  

"The boys will have mixed feelings, but they'll live," you said with a smile.  "I love you, you know." 

He hummed in satisfaction, a genuine smile against his lips.  "Purgatory's a wild place to fall in love, but I love you as well, mon Cher," he said softly, and you could not be more pleased to hear it.  The two of you connected lips once again in a longing, loving kiss before the two of you had returned to one vehicle - to his vehicle. Though neither of you knew where you would be going right away, you knew you were on your way to the rest of your life with the light of your life.