#Palaye Royale smut

[wanderingblindly]

You Bring Me Closer to God (Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri, 9.7k words, oneshot)

They’re still close enough to whisper, Lando’s hand holding him in place as he grins wildly. “You like it rough, Osc?” He doesn’t even care if it’s just a bit, just Lando’s stage persona washing over him like it does all his fans. Looking up at Lando, looking at the lipstick he smeared across his cupid’s bow and chin – it’s like he’s seen god. Felt it on his lips, tasted it on his tongue. Oscar grabs him by the nape of the neck without a second thought, pulling them together just as viciously as the first time. Or: In which Lando is a very slutty front-man for a small band seeking their big break, Oscar is an enamored bartender, and Jenson's bar brings them together.

READ HERE!

Thinking a lot about Lando getting off on attention, thinking even more about how hot he'd be if he was the front man of a band,,,

Anyways, here's a short song that sets the mood perfecty:

[sleekervae]

Surrender | Remington x Eva

Masterlist

A/N: Happy Halloween! I've got a cold like you wouldn't believe so I figured it's time to bless you guys with some treats. A little vampire-esque fantasy blurb based on this ask.

Summary: Remington catches Eva writing about her fantasies

Warnings: fanfiction writing, some tumblr angst, light but tantalizing smut, a lot of hickeys

⋆ WORD COUNT — 3.6k

Slowly, Victoria pushed the bedroom door open, contrasting against the quickening of her beating heart. She had given him time and he had found no cure for her. She was ready to embrace death if it meant him and his brothers could be saved.

Skin still damp from the pouring rain she clung tightly to her cloak, making her way downstairs in his eerily homely home. It was warm, as it has been throughout her stay there. Usually he would never feel the need to turn on the heating, but with a human under his roof he’d grown considerate of her comfort. Aldous basically did what he could to keep Victoria alive, all while staying well out of her way and in turn not killing her himself.

Before she even had the chance to call out his name in the open living area, he was resting against the doorway in front of her – as though he sensed her coming. Water beads trickled down her face when she stayed completely still, frozen, staring at the vampire who’d been hellbent on protecting her soul.

Aldous swallowed, wetting his lips all while his eyes slid over her body and drinking in her silhouette in her dainty, floral corset. Unlike herself, he was dressed more casually in a loose, puffy shirt and suspenders drawn tightly against his torso. All tied together with black slacks and bare feet. His disregard for colour palettes or themes when it came to fashion choices never failed to amuse Victoria.

“Did you need something?” His voice was flat, unreadable, much like the expression blanketing his sharp profile that only softened by the wavy locks of blonde hair tickling his thick brows, “Did you leave another book here?”

“No… I just-, I just wanted to see you I guess," she sighed absentmindedly, shaking some excess water from her hair, “It’s pretty lonely up there,”

The look on Aldous' face was nothing short of pained when his eyes squeezed shut, he looked almost guilty before he pinched the bridge of his nose, “Victoria… I’m sorry. But it’s for your own safety,"

“You’ve never hurt me before,” she mumbled, averting his gaze.

And he hadn’t. Initially when Victoria first met Aldous all those months ago, she was terrified of him and the prospect of what he could do to her. He was strong, a lot stronger than a regular bitten vampire, he’s a Blackwell vampire, he was born for this life. It was in his veins and always had been. Even before he and his brothers secured their place in the immortal world, the monster he became lingered beneath the surface. Waiting. Begging to be freed.

But then she got to know Aldous on a personal level, and he would do anything to keep her safe. The fact she was standing in his house proved the fact on some level, despite having no soul, he did care about her. There had been moments together, heated moments, moments that would last an eternity in his mind, where he could’ve succumb to his inner demon and blood lust. But he didn't.

Aldous' features soften upon meeting Victoria's eyes, his doe-like eyes may be raven black in colour but they were swimming with emotion, enough to make her drown in them, “Truthfully I don’t know what’s worse,” He frowned, pink lips parted, “Staying away from you makes me crave you more, but being near you…”

“Makes you want to kill me,” Victoria cleared her throat, somewhat overwhelmed by his presence.

A while ago he’d asked her if she believed in fate, soulmates, convinced that she and he were tied by the beauty of the moon. But as she watched the man in front of her physically struggle to breathe around her, Victoria was reminded that it was nothing more than the curse of the Blackwell bloodline.

The corners of his lips quirked up into a soft smile, “It’s not the curse,” His voice was low, still equal parts infuriating and endearing that he could read her thoughts and she'd never get used to it. “You’re… It’s…. It’s more than that. If I were only interested in you because of the curse you would’ve been dead a long time ago. The curse complicates things, but, well…”

“Maybe it’d be better for everyone if I just died already and got this over with.” she chuckled, while simultaneously trying to ease the budding tension with a joke at her own expense it was obvious Aldous didn't see the funny side. His frown deepened, a small hum escaping him.

“Is that how you really feel?”

“I’m just saying…” she sigh, squeezing the cloak around her body a little tighter, “I give my life in exchange for the Visigoths leaving you alone… And you won’t have to waste time searching for a miracle. You can go back to your normal life before we met—”

“My time will never be wasted when spent on you.” He took a step forward, surprising her, his jaw clenched so tight she wondered if vampire bones were capable of shattering, “If it takes me forever to get ride of Lilith then so be it, I’m not prepared to let you die.”

She tried to reason with him, shuffling a cautious step in his direction, “I don’t want you to be in pain anymore, if dying is the only way—”

“I’m not going to let that happen!�� The projection of his voice startled her, but not as much as the loud bang followed by bricks crumbling around his feet after he punched the door frame did. She stared at him wide-eyed and frightened, unable to peer away from the way his chest heaves up and down with each angry breath. “I need more time… I’ll find a way.”

At this she lost it, laughing humourlessly before she matched his volume and rage, “There isn’t another way Aldous! You’ve tried!” she rushed over to him, until she was in arms-length distance and being mindful not to step in the aftermath of his temper, “I can’t live like this anymore, knowing that it’s hurting you and your family… I just-, I want this to be over with. I’m ready,” she sighed, eyes fluttering shut. It was such a relief to say that out loud.

Aldous swallowed, dark eyes zoned in on her face, “Well I’m not ready to lose you, Victoria,”

“It has to be this way, to save --”

“I'm not letting you go, not yet. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you,” He began, trembling boney hands gently finding purchase on her shoulders, “You’re the poem the universe wrote only for me.”

A tiny gasp betrayed her when his cold fingers found her chin, tilting her face up to meet his. It was indescribable how beautiful the man was standing before her, even in his human life he must’ve been the most handsome person around. His eyes were dark in colour, framed by even darker delicate lashes. The pits of her stomach ignited with desire, along with an uncontrollable need to be closer to him. A pull so inhumane and sewn deep into her soul that Victoria struggled to compare it to anything she'd ever experienced. It was Aldous' breath, warm against her lips that broke her from the trance, gazing up at him with big eyes.

“I know you feel this too… This comfort, this desire…” He whispered, until his lips were a hair away from hers, his own eyes sliding shut, “The ache in your heart, is my promise to you that this is more than the curse. You belong with me,"

“Then change me,” she pled quietly, cupping his angled jaw with her hands, “There’s no way to beat the curse, if it’s death that completes his transition… Technically I’ll be dead. Change me.”

“There’s no guarantee it’ll save you or us, there’s no guarantee you’ll even survive it… Not every human is strong enough to withstand it. It’s too risky. Your life isn’t something I’m willing to take chances on.”

She sighed again, pressing her forehead to his, “Please, Aldous...”

"Whatcha' working on?"

Eva nearly jumped out of her seat, moving swiftly to change the tab on her laptop, "Remington!" she spun around in her chair, coming face-to-face with her moppy-haired boyfriend. He gave her a curious glance, his brow popped and she prayed he couldn't hear her heart thundering in her chest, "I -- I didn't hear you come in..."

"Yeah, I just got home," he chuckled, "Did I startle you?"

"Just a little bit," she nodded sheepishly as she glanced around their shared space. It was bright out when she last checked, now it was bordering on the sun setting, the clouds blanketing the sky a dark, dull bluish grey, "Oh my gosh, it's late. I totally forgot about dinner!"

"Don't worry. We can order in," he bent down to give her a kiss, smoothing her hair out of her face with a gentle stroke of his fingers, "What were you working on?"

Eva shrugged back, "Oh, just... more paperwork and stuff. Client reports... taxes..." she hated that she was such a bad liar.

"Taxes aren't due until spring, babe," he tutted.

"And why not start now rather than later?" she replied with a simple shake of the head, getting up in search of her cat, "Where is Pluto? I gotta' feed him,"

"I think I saw him dart under the couch," he noted, glancing at her computer from the corner of his eye. Eva groaned aloud.

"Not even a smoke bomb's gonna' get him out," she turned around and to her horror, Remington was hunched over her computer, skimming through the blank article she clicked to, "What're you doing?" she asked, her tone sharp and swift.

He turned back to her, a small smirk curling at the corners of his lips. She loved that smirk as equally as she did hate it, "Are you hiding something from me?" he asked, two fingers scrolling up and down on her track pad.

She scoffed back, shooing his hand away, "Of course not,"

"You sure?"

"Yes, yes I am,"

He took a step forward to which she took one back, "You were just working on taxes?"

"... yes," she stiffened.

His smirk grew, trying to stifle his laugh. He found her so stupidly adorable when she was flustered. Eva winced when the backs of her thighs hit the edge of her desk.

"... And is Aldous Blackwell your financial advisor? Or is he an accountant?"

Remington was delighted when Eva smacked his arm repeatedly with her sweater paws, her hands stuffed into the cuffs. He laughed as he grabbed ahold of her, awing at her pouty lips and her averted blue eyes.

"Shut up! You saw -- you dick!" she whined.

"Well of course I saw!" he cackled, "If I walk in and Pluto's the only one who greets me I know you're working on something important. Clearly -- my alter ego is very important to you," he winced and cringed as she smacked him again, "Okay, okay! Calm down! It's okay!" he assured her.

Eva wasn't one for hearing his assurances. She buried her face in her hands, grumbling to herself, "Please don't tell anyone,"

"Are you crazy? I'm not gonna' tell anybody! C'mon, look at me," he replied, taking her hands away and placing them around his waist, "How long have you been working on that?"

She huffed, debating whether it would be more worth her while to kill him or herself in that moment, "I -- Billie and I were going through some of your videos and we were watching Tonight is the Night I Die and... I just had this idea and it fit so well into your story line..."

Remington stepped back, taking his spot in her chair. The screws squeaked under his weight and the padding on the arms were worn, but it was comfortable for him nonetheless, "Tell me about it,"

Eva sat on the edge of her desk, she thought about telling him to fuck off, or she'd simply walk away and try to change the topic. However, she began to laugh. Not a full belly laugh, a bashful stream of giggles that matched the tinge of blush on her cheeks.

"I -- there's no -- I can't," she stammered nervously.

"Oh, c'mon Eva," he drawled, pouting his moist, pink lips at her. Eva looked away, knowing she was always unable to deal with that pleading look he perfected, "Or I could just read the blog post if you prefer..."

"Absolutely not," she shut that down very quickly. The only thing she treasured more than her cat or him was her secret blog, still swearing up and down that she'd never show him, "... I wrote about this girl who owes a debt to the Visigoth family, so they send her into the Blackwell manor and they give her this potion that infects her blood so if one of the brothers bite her, they die. The catch is that the potion is slowly killing her until vampire saliva is injected into her arteries. So the only way she can save her life is if the brothers bite her, but she ends up falling in love with one of them and yada-yada-yada. It's so cliché," she huffed, crossing her arms across her chest like a child.

Remington was amused to say the least. He rolled closer to her, his hand brushing up and down her bare knee, "I don't think so. It's an interesting angle. What part were you at before I came along?"

This had to be a test from God, it must've been a biblical test of patience for her. Eva shook her head, "I'm not answering that,"

"Why?"

"Remington..."

He lifted her feet into his lap and rolled the chair closer, her legs bending so he could rest his chin on her knee, "C'mon, please? I swear I won't laugh. I can't speak for Pluto,"

Eva rolled her eyes, nevertheless she knew he wasn't going to let this go. If there was one thing Remington had going for him, it was his persistency, "I was right about to dive into the cesspool of animalistic vampire sex that was so carnal it would make Morticia Addams blush,"

"... And your female protagonist -- does she bare a striking resemblance to someone I know?" he asked.

"... Maybe..."

He quirked his brow again, his intrigue fully peaked now. His fingertips tickled at the undersides of her thighs, reaching the hem of her cotton shorts and drifting down again. Eva swallowed back whatever uneasiness was bubbling in her throat, could pick off by the darkened look in his eyes that Remington was already up to no good.

"What?" she asked suspiciously.

"What?" he echoed back, feigning innocence.

"I get nervous when you look at me that way," she replied, her giggles bubbling with apprehension.

"Why? I could offer you some inspiration, if you need," he said.

"I don't have writers' block,"

"And?"

She couldn't lie that the masochist in her enjoyed how he toyed with her nerves. That being said, she enjoyed playing hard to get even more.

"You're ridiculous," she pushed him back with her foot before hopping off the desk.

"Me?" he gaped with mock insult, "You love me so what does that say about you?"

She smirked back, rocking back and forth on her heels, "That I probably need a psych eval,"

Remington's eyes narrowed and he gripped hard on the armrests of her chair. His head leaned back against the rest, his dark eyes fell into slits and his long dark hair fell at the sides of his face, and Eva swore she only saw him look so brooding once before.

"C'mere," he waved her over with his hand.

Eva shook her head, "No,"

"Please?" he leaned forward.

"Nope," she took a step back.

"Eva..."

"Aren't you hungry?"

"Oh, you have no idea," and with that, he took off out of the chair. Eva took off a second later, a chase ensuing throughout their apartment. Squeals and childish laughter echoed through the air, likely heard by their neighbours but they couldn't give two shits.

Remington finally slid across the floor to grab Eva, lifting her by her waist and tossing her over his shoulder. She slapped at his butt, a futile attempt to get him to put her down but she was awash in joyful giggles that were just music to his ears.

She was still laughing when he tossed her down on the bed, quick to pin her arms over her head as he crawled on top of her. His lips crashed over hers in an instant, messy and rough and so devilishly hypnotizing. In and instant the mood in the room went from playful to carnal; no matter how Eva squirmed or tugged Remington refused to let her loose.

He was careful not to smother her with his weight, a sly smirk tugged at his lips as he watched her, "You're so cute,"

Eva's only coherent response was to stick her tongue out at him. Remington chuckled darkly, "I'm gonna' bite that tongue, young lady," he mused.

Remington wet his lips, flashing her a lascivious grin before he moved forward, bringing his lips just before hers. He breathed against her, teasing her with the idea of a kiss, before turning to the side and finding her neck.

 Goosebumps freckled her skin as the heat of his breath hit her pulse point, and within a hot second, Eva was a goner. Remington's lips pressed against your throat, and the connection was so incredibly electric, her body tensed, currents crackling throughout her veins. 

Eva squirmed as his teeth scraped across her skin, applying enough pressure in his bites to certainly leave a mark but not to puncture the skin. He let his lips brush back and forth over her collarbones, kissing her lightly before suckling hard. His teeth grazed over the warm skin, leaving soft red imprints, tongue darting out to lick at any marks he might have left behind, but before he could actually get his lips to suck the hickey he desperately wanted to lay on her skin, she called out to him.

"Remington," a moan of his name and he was pulled from her neck, lips detaching, still parted slightly, puffs of air slipping through his teeth. Driven on instinct and fed on her whines he craved to hear the moan again, see the marks imprint his mind once more,

“What is it?” he cooed, taking her face in his with one hand, eyes still lingering to the pretty marks, “Tell me what’s wrong?” he smiled when she bashfully looked away.

"Nothing's wrong," she groaned, but it was more than the eye could see. She was consumed by the power he had over her, was torn between how gentle he was being with her and simultaneously craved him to ravage her.

"I never thought about it until now," with no objections, he tore away the shorts and slowly from her body, gliding them down her legs, "But I think if Aldous had a lover that he would be very passionate... but he'd also be very impatient if he didn't get his way,"

Eva exhaled heavily, squirming as his fingers slid over her slit through her panties, "And if he was here right now what would he want?" she asked.

" -- He'd want to hear all the pretty sounds you make when your pussy is played with... just like this," two fingers were on her clit, rubbing in short, concentrated circles, "And if his lover liked to put up a fight, then he wouldn't stop until you surrendered to him; doesn't matter how many times he has to fuck you,"

Make noise she did, not that she could help it. Her hips bumped up with every pass, every twirl and manipulation on her clit had her silently begging for more. She mewled, struggling to pull her arms down for some little seam of control but Remington was relentless.

He pushed her against the mattress, looming over her with his incredible body. He completely swathed her, entirely controlling her pleasure as his lips drew sinfully arousing kisses on her neck, hungry and lustful while his fingers played calculated chords between her legs. 

 His teeth lightly nipped her skin before his tongue smoothed the ache, and he moved onto another part of her neck, ravaging it. She wriggled underneath him, exhilarated by his body pinning her into the wall, his hips pressing into hers — she didn’t ever want him to stop.

“It's okay, baby,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of her head while he curled his fingers down and then upwards, brushing against that spot deep within her, “Talk to me,” he encouraged. 

“Feels good,” she whimpered, almost whining when he slid his fingers out of her and dragged his fingertips over her clit, “So fucking good.”

“I can tell,” he chuckled, sliding two fingers back in, “You’re opening up for me,”

“F-fuck,” she moaned brokenly, turning and burying her face into the crook of his arm. Remington sped up the pace of his fingers after, her sinful moans only spurring him on.

“You gonna come?” he whispered and she nodded, gaping when his lips reattached to her neck and he sucked hard, “Go ahead baby, come for me,"

“Rem,” she gasped, her back arching against his chest when he used his thumb to brush against her clit. 

“Be good and come on my fingers baby,” he whispered, filthy words pushing her over the precipice, her orgasm rippling from the top of her head to the ends of her toes.

Remington felt a surge of power, easing her legs wide as he continued to slide his fingers in and out of her, lips dragging down to fresh skin around her chest and bringing more hickeys to the surface, sucking on her like a god damn vampire.

[buryustogether]

plssss viktor vektor smut, maybe after female v got injured and had to be rushed to him?

mr doctor man

viktor vektor x f!reader (v)

wc: 5.2k

summary: an argument with your ripperdoc/friend with benefits leads to a distraction during an important street fight. luckily, he’s not going to hold it against you.

warnings/tags: friends with benefits, allusions to sex and hook ups, swearing, blood, reader gets the absolute shit beat out of them, fighting, angst, vomiting, gun violence, love confessions, allusions to smut

author’s note: ask and ye shall receive

partially inspired by mr doctor man by palaye royale

“ mr doctor man

questions his hands

lost his mind

clinically fine ”

Viktor was sure he was out of his mind.

When he’d become a ripperdoc, he did so with one goal, one job, in mind; helping the injured, making sure everyone in this city had a fair chance at facing whatever was waiting out there for them. He was supposed to protect his patients, make sure they were fit and safe from the very things he installed deep within their muscles and memories.

He was supposed to take care of his patients, not fuck them into oblivion.

You couldn’t help but admire the raised red scratches your nails had inflicted upon Viktor’s back as he sat tinkering with the new piece of chrome he was about to put into your open forearm. Sweat was still in the process of drying on the back of your neck, cooled by the hum of conditioning that eased out of the grates overhead. Sure, you’d come in this afternoon to grab some new tech - but you could have done that over in Kabuki. Corpo Plaza. Arroyo. Anywhere you passed on your way here. But those clinics didn’t have Vik, didn’t have the glint of his glasses when he glanced your way, didn’t have the ‘tats inked into his arm that you held onto for dear life when he was railing into you hard enough to make you see stars.

No, this was your favorite clinic by far. And it wasn’t just because you lived only five minutes away.

“So tell me, kid,” said Viktor as he gingerly placed the reinforced piece of chrome into the meat of your arm. You held your breath at the strange sensation as his expert hands slowly adjusted the metal. “You’ve never exactly expressed interest in physical combat gear. Thought you were more of a gun steel gray kind of girl.”

He talked to you like you weren’t a thing, like you weren’t a couple.

Because you weren’t. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you didn’t know exactly what you were. You’d been friends, of course, when Jackie had first brought you in with him to get his nose popped back into place after a bar fight tilted away from him. You would come over in the evenings with dinner after he closed the clinic and watch fights. You would help clean up when he needed the extra hands. And when friendly banter turned more and more flirtatious, you hadn’t been obliged to stop it.

When slaps on the shoulders turned into kisses, and those turned into finger fucks, and those turned into full-on poundings on his table or against the wall, you hadn’t protested one bit. You wanted there to be something more to it all, wanted him to think about you the same way you did him - when you were alone eating breakfast by yourself, when you were driving across town, when you were in bed at night, anywhere and everywhere all at once.

But you’d never said a word of it.

You didn’t want to cross a line you knew you couldn’t see, take whatever this was one step too far and lose one of your best friends. So you left everything where it was - don’t fix what’s not broken, right? Don’t meddle with things doing just fine on their own, right?

So you kept your mouth shut and your legs open.

“Oh, yeah,” you said and stared up at the ceiling above your head. Across the room, the low sounds of a match beginning to start murmured from the television. “I’ve got a fight in Heywood coming up in a couple of days. Guy’s known for being built like ‘Saka Tower, so I figured I’d steel myself up before going to get my ass handed to me.”

You expected Viktor to smile, for him to chuckle and for his bare abs to tense up like they did when he found something amusing. But he didn’t. Instead the corners of his mouth tilted downward as he pulled the machine that would hotwire your skin back together over to the table. “What’s this guy’s name?” he asked offhandedly.

His sudden change in tone irked you slightly. “I don’t know. Heard he goes by Decard. Big in the Badlands, apparently, and he came into town looking for competition that wasn’t walking on four legs or eating after the four-legs.”

“Hmm.”

Pursing your lips awkwardly, you drummed your fingers on your bare sternum - you were both still in the bare minimum after your little late afternoon romp - and pulled your focus back overhead. You took a breath and pushed it out. “Got a problem with me fighting or something?”

Viktor looked up at you over the rims of his glasses - fuck, that steely gray of his irises were something else - and fixed you with a warning stare. “Don’t bring your attitude now, kid,” he said and rotated the machine patching you up. Even as the conversation was going south, he was still intent on giving you the best treatment he was capable of.

“Well, I mean - sorry, but it suddenly seems like you’d rather be literally anywhere else than here.”

“I will be, if you keep running your tongue like that.”

Your stare turned into a glare as you looked up at the ceiling above your head. What the fuck was this? You and Viktor hardly ever fought - and if you did, it was over who was going to win the match you were streaming. Fuck all, you just sucked his dick until he whimpered, and now he was giving you some weird kind of cold shoulder?

You waited until the machine had done its job and your arm was back together before shoving off the table and gathering your clothes that had been scattered across the clinic floor. You could feel him - sitting in just his pants on his stool - watching your movements like a hawk. “You know what,” you said, bristling as you tugged your clothes back on, “if you’re going to go full blown hermit on me out of the blue for no fucking reason at all, I have no reason to be here.” You angrily yanked your shoes over your feet, not bothering to tie the laces. “Don’t bother showing up to the fight. I’ll have Jackie there if I get my spleen shot out.”

“Didn’t know there was an extended invite,” Viktor said as he pushed away from the table on his stool and rolled over to his desk.

“There would have been if your stage four terminal dickery hadn’t ruined the party.” Snatching up your holsters from his side table, you stopped for a moment while you clasped them over yourself. “What was that, anyway? What’s your deal? One minute we’re hot and heavy, and the next you’re acting like you want to be rid of me.”

Viktor rolled his eyes - you saw it in the reflection of the dirty mirror hung opposite his desk. He picked up that damned screwdriver he was always tinkering with and began to adjust the calibrations of his mechanical fingers. “Maybe if you got your head out of your ass for once, V, you’d see that it’s just the opposite. I don’t think you should be sticking your neck out more than you already do for a couple extra eddies. You and Jack already run around pulling enough shit. Street fighting when you should be resting isn’t exactly the move you’d pull if you’re playing with a full deck of cards.”

Fuck, he was good. He could roll five different insults into one and make it sound like he was actually worried about you.

“I’m sorry,” you said and cocked your head at him pointedly, “this coming from one of Night City’s greatest ring fighters?”

He shook his head in that way he did when he was getting ready to put something to rest - an argument, an idea, a patient… It made something in your gut twist. It made you feel small and childish - like you both knew he was right about this. Like he was talking to a little girl who refused to give up the fight just for the sake of fighting. “You’re stubborn, kid, and that’s a good thing most of the time. I’m not going to tell you what you can or can’t do. Go on. Kick some ass and prove me wrong.” He paused his tinkering for just a moment, and you thought he was going to rise and kiss you goodbye like he always did - but he just turned up the volume on the television. “I’ll be here either way.”

Overwhelmed with that sickening, roiling feeling in your belly, you threw up a hand and stalked toward the gates of the clinic. “Whatever, old man.”

As you stormed up the stairs leading into the alleyway between Viktor’s clinic and Misty’s shop, a coil of guilt turned itself about in the hollows of your chest. Maybe he was right - about your head being stuck up your ass. Your entire life you’d been fighting for your fair share in this city, being raised in the shadows of those who proved themselves time and time again to be bigger than you. From the time you knew how to properly hold a gun and throw a punch and speak your mind, you hadn’t let anything stop you - which hadn’t always been a good thing. A couple broken bones and black eyes had taught you that much.

But fighting - whether it was for your life or not - was all you knew. Arguing, and challenging, and defying… it felt as if it were in your blood like part of your DNA. The feeling of desperate survival never went away, no matter how much money you had or how full your belly was. Once it was there, it never went away.

This was what you told yourself two evenings later, when the stars and the moon were blocked out by the smog and the nighttime air was disrupted by thumping music and excited shouts and the wails of sirens in the distance. It was what you told yourself when you popped out the cricks in your neck and accepted pats on the back from those who had bet their monthly rents on you. And yet despite the fight about to happen in a few minutes’ time, despite the dozens of people surrounding the basketball court where it was to take place, your mind was stuck back in the clinic. Your ears still rang with the words both you and Viktor had hissed, your chest still stung with the venom laced between breaths. He had not called you, despite having a little get-together-date-night-come-over-and-let’s-fool-around-thing set up for last night. You had not called him, despite desperately needing encouragement for this fight, because you had caught a glimpse of Decard, and you’d almost choked on your own spit.

“Aye, V,” said a voice in your ear, and you were pulled back to the sidelines of the basketball court, where a crowd had gathered to watch the smackdown. You looked up at Jackie when he clasped your shoulder in a tight grip, forcing your attention up to his face. “You doin’ okay, choom? You nervous?”

Swallowing thick, you furrowed your brows and waved a feeble hand. Your knuckles had already been wrapped in bandages - something Viktor usually did before your fights, because he knew the best ways to keep them tight when you threw your punches. You had wrapped them yourself, and they were already falling loose. “M’fine,” you answered over the radio blaring across the lot. “Just… mind’s somewhere else.”

There came a look across Jackie’s face that told you he already knew exactly what you were talking about. You didn’t want to think about how he did. “Listen,” he said and grasped your other shoulder. “Worry all you want after, chica, but when you’re out there?” He used his knuckle to shove your chin in the direction of the court, where the fixer who had arranged the fight was arguing over bets with a corpo. “Your mind’s got’ta be out there, too. Otherwise you’re goin’ to get your ass handed to you and your brain won’t catch up ‘til you’re hurtin’ tomorrow.” When you looked back at him, mouth stretched into a taut line, his gaze softened a bit. He jostled you. “These kind’a things don’t last forever, choom. Trust me - Misty’s been on my ass enough times that she knows it better than I do, and we always come around. Just… let it go for a few minutes, yeah?”

Steeling your heart and sharpening your expression, you nodded your head slightly and took a breath. Just for a few minutes. Nothing but left hooks and dodges and roundhouses for just a few minutes. “Okay,” you said and shook yourself out. “Okay.”

“Atta’ girl.” Jackie clapped your hand in his own, then spun you around and shoved you in the direction of the court. “Now go and kick some ass. Drinks on you at the Afterlife to celebrate your victory, aye?”

Rounds of both cheers and taunts followed you as you walked onto the court to meet the fixer and your competition. Upon facing your opponent, you found your neck craning up. And up. And still up. Decard was fitted with an entire body of chrome and tech, more cyber than human in every sense of the word. Nearly seven feet tall. Fists of collapsable nanotech. Cybernetic eyes pixelated red that made his pupils look as though they were bleeding from the inside out. You’d be lying if you told yourself he didn’t intimidate you to the point that if you weren’t being watched by hundreds of eyes, you’d probably have pissed yourself just a little bit.

“Alright, people,” said the fixer as he tallied up a number of bets. A quick glance at the pad in his hand told you that the onlookers’ faith lay more at Decard’s steel-toed feet than yours. “Please don’t turn this into a crime scene. I’m already on a watchlist for these kinds of things, so let’s keep this quick and clean. Hopefully I don’t have to tell you both that no cybernetic advancements are allowed. Gorilla arms, thermal knuckles, mantis blades, the whole shebang. No killing - perioud. ‘Kay?”

“Sure,” you said.

Decard growled from low in his throat.

Once the fixer had left the court and motioned for the pair of you to get ready, you took a moment to assess your opponent. As you dug your toes into the dirty tarmac, you looked him over. His head, of course, was an option, throat exposed over the collar of his tank top. But you doubted you’d have much time to grab at it, even if you got past those mechanical arms of his. You were scrambling to find a weak spot, to find some way this didn’t end in you limping away with a broken arm and a shattered ego, when your gaze shifted slightly behind him and into the crowd after catching a subtle glare of glass.

Fuck - he’d shown up. There he was, standing with crossed arms and a wide stance amongst the young onlookers streaming on their phones and squealing with excitement. Viktor met your eyes across the distance.

Then an earth-shaking, rib-crushing blow landed to your sternum, sending you tumbling over yourself in a heap of flailing limbs to the feet of the crowd. Pain like thunder blossoming violently across the sky expanded from your chest where Decard struck you, but you weren’t given much time to process what had just happened before the crowd was pulling you to your feet and pushing you back onto the court.

You had barely regained your breath before Decard came charging at you, steel teeth bared like some kind of animal as he barreled in your direction. Turning on your heel, you just barely managed to miss him - then took a running leap up onto his back and sat yourself on his hulking shoulders. The crowd erupted in surprise. Clenching your jaw and fighting with everything you had to stay on top of him while he bucked and pulled at your legs with a grip that would surely leave bruises in their wake, you locked an arm around his neck and began to squeeze. It wouldn’t take more than maybe twenty seconds for him to start getting lightheaded, even with all those implants. Maybe fifteen if you were lucky.

But it turned out you weren’t lucky. Very, very, very unlucky, in fact.

Decard backed up across the court as you tried to choke him out, heading straight for the rusted old hoop on a metal pole that creaked when a breeze blew it the wrong way. With a great roar and a heave, he slammed you back into the pole. Howling, searing, thundering pain overtook you, spreading from your spine to your shoulder blades to your hips, all throughout every nerve ending and fiber inside of you. Your vision whited out for just a moment as you slipped off the man’s shoulders and dropped to the warm tarmac. Goddammit, that hurt. That hurt like a bitch. That hurt like your vertebrae had cracked and one wrong move would put you six feet under.

With a low groan that you felt echoing in your very bones, you slowly propped yourself up on an elbow. You coughed and spat out a bit of saliva mixed with blood that pooled from where you’d bitten your tongue after being slammed into the pole. You knew after a blow like that you wouldn't be able to finish. As much as you fucking hated it, you were going to have to forfeit. All those cameras on you, all those eyes and bets… all fucking wasted.

And Viktor… fuck, he wouldn’t ever let you hear the end of this. If he spoke to you again outside of emergency clinic visits and checkups.

Sucking in a shallow breath, you stretched out a hand and patted the ground once, twice, three times. Those who saw it groaned at the fight having been so short. Eddies were being passed around, deposited into accounts as you began to make your way to your feet to slink off the court with your tail between your legs. But you didn’t quite make it.

Before you could find your footing, Decard’s large cybernetic hand snatched up the vulnerable skin of your throat and lifted you off the court into the air. Panic flooded your systems as your eyes widened and you gasped, trying to pull in air around the blockage on your neck. A few people cheered, thinking the fight was still on. No matter how much you kicked and flailed, they didn’t seem to get the hint that you had forfeited. You didn’t want to fight anymore.

They said you don’t always get what you want.

“Some shitshow for a merc I’ve heard so much fuss about,” Decard said, just inches from your face as he lifted you closer to him. Up close, you were able to see his cybernetic gaze flashing back and forth between your suddenly terrified eyes. “I was hoping I’d get a run for my money.”

You gasped around his iron-knuckled grip, uselessly kicking your feet against his chest plates. “M’done!” you wheezed out, listening to your heart pound wildly in your ears. “Y’win! Let me go!”

Decard grinned a sickening smile and brought his lips to the shell of your ear, so close you swore you felt his tongue brush against your lobe. “Come on and show me what you’re really made of, mercenary.” Then he turned and threw you across the court, sending you sprawling over yourself for the second time that evening. Another roar went up from the crowd as the cameras began filming again and new bets were placed.

Vision hazy and your spine screaming in protest, you scrambled out of the way just in time to miss Decard’s boot cracking the concrete where you just lay half a moment ago. You weren’t lucky enough to evade his next blow, a backhand that had you careening to the ground once more. Smack after punch, blow after kick, you were slowly losing the ability to raise your arms to even cover your face as he followed your pathetic little parade around the court.

The crowd seemed to be loving your beatdown. They cheered for more, for you to just give up, not knowing that you already had.

Upon coming to rest on your aching back from a roundhouse that had knocked you off your feet, you tilted your bloodied and bruised face to catch a glimpse of two figures arguing violently with the fixer who organized the whole event. Through the blur twinging the edges of your vision, you recognized Viktor and Jackie practically screaming at the man, gesturing wildly back and forth between you and the man approaching to possibly finish you off. Without your permission, your vision screen kicked in to read their lips and translate what they were saying.

“He’s fuckin’ killing her, idiota!” Jackie said and raised a hand to your form cowering on the ground.

“She tapped out fair and square,” snarled Viktor and poked a mechanical finger in the fixer’s chest. “Call it off before it goes any further.”

The fixer raised his hands in defense, shrugging a shoulder to prove his point. “Listen, chooms, just because you lost your bets doesn’t mean you’ve got to take it up with me.”

“She forfeited!” Viktor said. “Everyone with their eyes in their head saw her call for mercy.”

The fixer grinned sadistically. “I didn’t see anything.”

Snapping back to the court, you raised your gaze to the tall, sinewy mass of a man who towered over you with a heaving chest and a sick emotion of satisfaction sitting upon his stupid fat lips. For the second time, he raised you into the air by your throat and held you up like a trophy for all to see. You didn’t have the energy to fight back this time, couldn’t even if you thought it would do something. You simply gasped for air and gripped his forearm, hoping you’d black out sooner than later so you wouldn’t have to keep enduring this torture.

“Too bad no one’s going to remember your name,” Decard said to you over the noises of the onlookers. “V, was it?”

Through the blood spilling over your lips and the ache in every damn inch of your body, you snarled and spat, “Go fuck yourself.”

“Oh, I will,” he replied. “To the image of you begging for mercy like a fucking dog.”

The words had barely escaped his lips when a miracle graced the old basketball court. A deafening gunshot like a firecracker went off just feet from your ear and an instant later, you were dropped from being suspended in the air. Forcing yourself to look up from the dirt digging into your cheek, you watched as Viktor, now standing on the court before a kneeling Decard as he screamed and cradled the blown-apart junction of his knee, leveled his handgun with his opposite shoulder.

“Don’t bother showing your face to any ripper in this fucking city,” Viktor warned, then cracked off another bullet into Decard’s shoulder. The man howled over the sounds of the crowd stampeding for their vehicles and the streets, then collapsed in on himself. “They won’t have any mercy on you.”

It was the last thing you saw before you rolled onto your side and vomited, allowing yourself to fall into that everlasting darkness behind your eyelids.

The first thing that hit you when your senses returned was the faint smell of cleaning alcohol, the kind that docs used to sterilize equipment before they dug deep into your chest. The second thing was the familiar sound of a television playing the sounds of a boxing match; the ringing of the bell and the commentator’s voice would have lulled you back to sleep, had it not been for the ache that thrummed like fire beneath your skin all across your body. From your toes to your scalp it hurt, pulling a low moan from the back of your throat.

Your brow scrunched, you opened your eyes and blinked a few times before recognizing the ceiling overhead as the same one you had glared at while fighting with Viktor two days ago. You were in his clinic, propped up on the operating chair with an IV stuck in your arm and bandages wrapped around your torso. Your spine bitched at you as you sat up and swept your gaze across the clinic. Viktor was nowhere to be found.

Fuck, you wanted to go home. Go home and take the longest nap in the history of time. How long had it been since the fight - since you got your ass almost literally handed to you on the internet for thousands of people to see? Your vision screen told you it had been almost twelve hours.

With a grunt, you carefully pulled the IV from your arm and swung your legs over the side of the chair - only to crumple to the floor the moment you tried to stand on your own two feet. Just a few seconds later, you heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, and you prayed it would be anyone except your doc. You couldn’t face him, not after he had to save your ass after telling you not to fight. Hell, you almost wished it would be Decard coming to finish you off.

But you recognized the bottoms of the shoes rushing toward you as Viktor’s, and you could do nothing but whimper and groan as he gingerly lifted you off the ground and back onto the chair.

“Jesus, kid,” he said as he carefully stuck the IV back into your skin. “Only just came to and you’re already trying to walk out like nothing happened.”

You said nothing as he sat back on his rolling stool beside you and brought up your vitals on his tablet. You couldn’t bare the thought of looking into those eyes of his as he chastised you for being so fucking stupid, for not heeding his advice. He probably thought you were an idiot, a naive kid so blinded by chasing glory she didn’t realize she was running straight into the sun.

But it seemed that Viktor didn’t get the this-is-supposed-to-be-awkward memo. “Hate to say it,” he said as he scrolled through his device, “but you had a close call, kid. Popped a vertebra out of place in your spine, fractured four of your ribs, dislocated a finger or two… I could go on, but I’d like to save time where I can. In other words, I’ve never had a patient come in quite as fucked up as you.”

“Gee, thanks.” You exhaled a painful breath, unable to push down the bubble forming in the bottom of your throat. Just when you thought you’d be able to ignore it, it ruptured. “Why don’t you just tell me off for being so stupid and send Misty to take me home?”

Viktor didn’t look at you. And that made you all the more furious. “I’m not doing this again, V,” he said and rolled away to deposit his tablet on his workbench. “Shut up and take a rest from it, will you? You’re fogging up the place with that hot head of yours.”

“In case you forgot,” you shot back, struggling to sit up straight in the curved operation chair, “you’re the one who started this shit. So don’t you try and pin it on me.”

He stood and remained there on his feet for a moment, hands placed firmly on his hips and nodding his head with pursed lips - like he was preparing himself to have this same spat again. A pang of guilt shot through you, but you beat it back.

“You know what?” he said and finally looked at you through his glasses. He threw out a hand and let it smack against his thigh. “Fine. I did start this. I’ll own that. But I only started it because - and this may come as a surprise to that thick skull of yours - but I actually care about you, kid. I do really give a shit if some shady bastard you decide to throw hands with over a few eddies manages to get the better of you and leave you bleeding out in a dumpster on the wrong side of Pacifica.” He ran his good hand through his hair - and over his temples, which were just beginning to show through his dark tresses with a few streaks of gray - and began to tread closer. “Maybe what we’ve got between us is a fun way to kick off a bit of stress for you, and I’ll keep myself in check if it is, but goddammit, V, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if you got yourself gutted in a fucking streetfight!”

You realized he had gotten closer to your chair and raised his voice only when you flinched at his sudden outburst. He seemed to understand, too, just how close he had come, because he at once stood straight again and began to back off.

You reached out your hand and grabbed his wrist. “It’s not,” you found yourself whispering when he glanced at you over the rims of his glasses. You swallowed thick and forced the words up and out. “Just… just some outlet. I… I love you, Vik.” A wave of tears threatened to overtake your vision, turn your eyes watery and your voice wavering. “I know it doesn’t really seem like it a lot of the time, but I promise I do.”

There were a long, silent few moments in which neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke. You squeezed your eyes together, suddenly afraid you had gone too far. That’s what you always did. You either went so far the line wasn’t even a line anymore, or you fell short enough that you didn’t even know there was one to begin with. You started to release his wrist, feeling as though you had fucked up yet another one of the good things in your life, when you felt his fingers angling your chin up so that he could press his lips to yours.

It was just like the millions of other times he had kissed you, when you were both in a rush to get your clothes off and climb on top of the other, and yet it was different all at the same time. This kiss was deep and genuine, relieved and thrilled. Sweet. Loving. He tasted like a faint twinge of whiskey, and when you grabbed his shirt collar to pull him closer and he grunted, a fan of breath swept across you like a ghosting whisper.

When you finally pulled apart, Viktor rested his forehead against yours and gently kissed the slope of your nose. “You better rest up quick, kid,” he murmured against your lips. “Because when you do, I’m going to spread those legs of yours and show you just how much I fucking love you.”

[aredeemantagonist]

Wait, a pinned post?? In this economy??

"Go on, make my day, go get high, on my mistakes."

Hi! I’m Antagonist/Kris/Nikolai, a certified crazy person silly goober.

I also go by Jack or Mercutio, but ask before using those names for me + nicknames. Jack and Mercutio is only for friends, and Tio as a nickname is only for very close friends

Artist page (Basic info) ->-> Meet the Artist!

My lovely boyfriend is @thund3randrain <3

Head over heels for my QPP @the-fallen-collective <3

I am unwell over many many things such as Palaye Royale, FNAF, BSD, Laceygames and unfortunately many many more

"Daydreaming of my funeral, like who would go, bet no one would show"

Currently obssessing over: FNAF + Afton Family Lore (specifically william afton) Palaye Royale The Amazing Digital Circus BSD Bendy and The Dark Revival + Bendy and The Ink Machine (blue is the biggest hyperfixations currently)

He/It/Void/Gore/Confetti/Pop/Doll/Lace. No They/Them (unless we're close) or She/Her please!!

"This is goodbye, you've bled me dry."

18+ users can interact and DM as long as you aren’t icky and comfy with the fact that i am a minor :3

DNIs: - Bad people in general - General DNIs (homophobes, transphobes, misogyonists, etc etc) - Radqueers - Pro-contact - Zoophiles, Pedophiles, etc etc - [Pro] Endogenic systems - Anti-recovery blogs (for EDs, S/H, anything) - NSFW + smut blogs - MDNI blogs - Anti-alterhumanity

"Same me, same you! Until the drugs start doing you~"

for our system blog see @a-void-of-a-system , there’s a personal blog list there. mostly the host (kris) will be posting here!!

I try to use tonetags, also please use tonetags with me!! It helps a lot :3

Please ask before touch!!

I mod too many RP blogs to count- I'll make a masterlist one day.

"I'm sorry mom I've got to go, I've dug this grave I call my home."

Interests -

FNAF + Afton Family

Super Mario Bros. (Basically every mario thing ever)

Bungou Stray Dogs

Laceygames

Classical literature

Drawing (i do take requests!! might be a bit slow though-)

Writing (both fanficition and original stories!!)

Saiki K

Assassination Classroom

"Unfaithful night, housewife she can smell the perfume"

common tags used on this blog:

#antagonist reblogs - i reblog random shit!! won’t always remember to tag though T^T

#antagonist rambles - my incessant yapping!!

#antagonist shitposts - i shitpost lol

#antagonist stims - self explanatory

#antagonist doodles - my drawings!!

#antagonist wrote something - my fics!!

#antagonist yaps with friends - me chats with my friends!!

#antagonist used a braincell - my thoughts. could be anything from shitposts to philosophy to maths!!

#antagonist vents - my vents, always check and block the tags pls!!

#antagonist is tired. - i am so so tired.

#antagonist laceyposts - what it says on the tin. i laceypost!

#antagonist is william afton - william afton posting

#man i love michael afton - michael afton posting

#my love <3 - i ramble about my beautiful wonderful boyfriend

#meri jaan <3 - i ramble about my fantastic beautiful partner

#antagonist roleplays - me just being a silly little guy with RP blogs on my main ^^

#antagonist raises the sun - i say good morning !

#antagonist travels to eep land - i say good night !

"Poor me, poor you, maybe one more drink or two Big dreams, small shoes, got nothing else left to lose"

uhm i think that’s it!! just be patient with me if i’m taking time to answer asks or requests, i get overwhelmed easily, and don’t take it personally ^^

all my moots ily and everyone else have a great time in my little corner of insanity!!

[chemical-killjoy]

✨MASTERLIST✨

Greetings Dear Reader! Right now the majority of the fics on my masterlist are from my old blogs, @immrbrightsideeee and @remingtonisleithal, so most links will take you to that, any and all notes on those posts I am not likely to see for a bloody long time, so please message me or send an ask or something if you really liked the fics/want a sequel or are anything! Also if you like my writing, check out @smiling-girl and @fandomfoodiedancer, they're amazing <33

Requests are OPEN

(and encouraged lol)

I write for a whole bunch of fandoms, but here's the ones I can think of: arcane, black veil brides, bridgerton, buffy the vampire slayer, maneskin, marvel, motionless in white, my chemical romance, palaye royale, pierce the veil, the artful dodger, the raven cycle (books), and supernatural :)

If you like my writing, here's the link to join my taglist (It's very important you guys fill this out if you wanna join my taglist as I do write some serious, dark topics sometimes) and here's a link to buy me a coffee

updated: 23/10/24

Damiano David:

*A night to remember 1/2

smut. Damiano is attracted to reader singing iwbys

Movie and a kiss

the reader had a fight with their family and Damiano looks after them

Fast Car (trigger warning)

Honestly this is just angst and emotional and if you don’t cry I have failed as a writer. But it’s got a happy ending!!

Vic de Angelis:

Knight in Shining Armour

Vic saves the reader from a creep at a bar

Remington Leith:

*Caught in the Storm

reader and remington share a bed in a storm. What ever will happen?

Feel better

comfort fic, remington takes the reader on an adventure to feel better

*Only one answer (part two of Feel Better)

I will find you

mesmerized by someone in the crowd, remington has to find the reader

Something beautiful (part 2 of I will find you)

I Just Need Some Air*

young!Remington and the reader are at a party and after confessing their feelings things get heated.

Better Than Nutella

Remington is hooked on his new friend’s cooking, and smile.

Movie Night

Remington and Y/N have a movie night

Morning Light: (this is a collab with @cursivetalk)

vampire Remington, based on the tonight is the night I die video. Series, currently being written.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Emerson Barrett:

Teach me

emerson teaches the reader the drums

Andy Biersack:

Don’t go (trigger warning) (there is comfort)

I Don’t Wanna Be Alone (trigger warning) (with comfort)

Love isn’t always fair *

After a concert Andy reveals his love for his best friend

Mortician’s Daughter (trigger warning)

Thomas Raggi:

Moonlight’s Curse (part 1)

werewolf!thomas, a series being written :)

Mistakes and Misunderstandings

Ronnie Radke:

*untitled

pwp really, Ronnie meets Y/N in a bar and things happen

Vic Fuentes:

Hell Over Me (trigger warning) (happy ending)

Frank Iero:

Not A Kid *

TW brief mention of abuse, age gap. Y/N works for MCR and it turns out Frank likes her just as much as she likes him

Gerard Way:

Cemetery Drive

TW for suicide and self harm. Y/N visits her ex’s grave, and is surprised to find him there

Hang Em High

Cemetery drive part 2

Demolition Lovers

Part 3 and final chapter of Cemetery Drive

Kisses and Coffee

Coffee shop and accidental kiss AU

Dean Winchester:

Life In (Rose) Pink

Dean is a romantic cliche trying his hardest

Chris Motionless:

Eternally Yours *

Based on the music video

Jinx:

You Decide

Reader has a breakdown and Jinx helps them

Jack Dawkins/Dodger:

Healing Kiss *

Reader is in hospital, but Dr. Dawkins is there to heal her. TW for self harm, suicide and mentions of abuse.

Healing Kiss part 2 *

Smut ensues after part 1, it's very lovey-dovey

[fever-daydream]

Fever-Daydream Request Rules and Information

1. At this time, I will not write smut. I am okay writing more suggestive topics and may be open to writing smut in the future, but not right now.

2. Along with smut, I will not write large age gaps, extreme gore or violence, abuse of any kind, or any stories involving hateful rhetorics towards any group of people.

3. Though I will write stories about real life people, I won’t write about ships between real life people (ex. Joshler, Frerard, etc.). I am all for shipping, but it is just not something I personally am comfortable writing.

4. All “x Reader” pairings will be “x Fem! Reader” unless a gender neutral reader is explicitly asked for. I will not write “x Masc! Reader”. This is due to the fact that I am a cis female and do not feel like I can accurately do so.

5. If you request a romantic pairing between two characters, they must both be canonically legal adults (18+). In all requests that are x reader, the reader will be at least 18 years old, even if the pairing is platonic.

6. I am a graduate student. Though I will strive to get requests done as fast as possible, I have no specific timeline that can be expected. I ask that you give me grace. Constant asking about when I will fulfill a request will result in the request being denied. If this happens multiple times, you will be blocked.

7. I have the right to deny any request if I feel uncomfortable with the subject matter and/or it does not follow the above stated rules.

These rules may be updated at any time and are not all encompassing.

Who I Write For

Movies and TV Shows

Top Gun/Top Gun: Maverick

Pete “Maverick” Mitchell

Tom “Iceman” Kazansky

Nick “Goose” Bradshaw

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

Jake “Hangman” Seresin

Robert “Bob” Floyd

Javy “Coyote” Machado

Twisters

Tyler Owens

Boone

Scott

Javi

Mission: Impossible (Movie Series)

Ethan Hunt

William Brandt

Star Wars Universe

Poe Dameron

Cassian Andor

Anakin Skywalker

Luke Skywalker

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Kylo Ren/Ben Solo

Han Solo

Finn

Bodhi Rook

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Steve Rodgers (Captain America)

Sam Wilson (Falcon/Captain America)

Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier)

Tony Stark (Iron Man)

Clint Barton (Hawkeye)

Peter Quill (Starlord)

Pietro Maximoff (Quicksilver)

Scott Lang (Antman)

T’Challa (Black Panther)

Grant Ward (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D)

Howard Stark (Agent Carter/Captain America: The First Avenger)

Loki

Thor

American Satan/Paradise City

Johnny Faust

Vic Lakota

Leo Donovan

Dylan James

Bands

Twenty One Pilots

Tyler Joseph/Clancy

Josh Dun/Torchbearer

Black Veil Brides

Andy Biersack/The Prophet

CC/The Destroyer

Lonny Eagleton/The Redeemer

Jake Pitts/The Mourner

Jinxx/The Mystic

My Chemical Romance

Gerard Way/Party Poison

Mikey Way/Kobra Kid

Frank Iero/Fun Ghoul

Ray Toro/Jet Star

Palaye Royale

Remington Leith/Aldous Blackwell

Emerson Barrett/Alan Blackwell

Sebastian Danzig/Fredrick Blackwell

If you do not see a person or character on this list, feel free to message or send me an ask! I am a fan of many things!

[louscartridge]

bands/musicians

i do not give permission for my fics to be posted claiming to be yours, translated, or posted on another platform.

i try to make every fic of mine so everyone can read then despite their gender, race, and sexuality unless stated otherwise.

tw i will be writing about triggering topics such as eds, sh, and just angst in genral as they are rly big comfort fics for some people. these fics will be marked with ♡

smut will always be afab and will have its own separate masterlist.

tokio hotel

griffin taylor 

simon crahan

nicholas matthews 

max green

motionless in white

ronnie radke

andy black/sixx

vic fuentes

my chemical romance

Jamie bower

waterparks

icon for hire

palaye royale

[kitthepurplepotato]

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

When a weird, melancholic melody plays Bakugou’s broken heartstrings just the right way, he can’t help but embrace his scars and change for the better.

But when the music is gone and the reality hits, his two worlds suddenly collide.

This is a story about a struggling hero and a broken soul who only speaks through music trying to atone for her past mistakes by giving up on everything to save more people than she has ruined in the past.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

General info:

Genre: Fluff and angst with eventual happy ending. It will get quite deep, so minors please DNI - the story is 16+ in my humble opinion.

Every chapter comes with a song of the day! (Rock/alternative/emo bangers!)

The updates will be slow on this one!

Warnings (for future chapters): Mentions of depression, trauma, communication issues due to that trauma, angst, mentions of toxic relationships in the past, mentions of suicidal thoughts, eventual suggestive content (or not, I’m not sure yet) with definitely NO smut. (Sorry) (You might need to get a dentist appointment after you and Katsuki get to know each other tho.) New warnings on every chapter as the story unfolds.

(This makes it sound so much worse than it will be, I honestly can’t write anything too angsty, so if you have a sensitive soul, you are still welcome to read this, I will probably change my mind halfway through the ficc anyway, if not, just write me a message and I’ll give you lovely spoilers to soothe your soul.)

About the reader: She/her pronouns, alternative style, mentions of piercings, tattoos and colorful hair. The reader has trauma and a really messed up past but she’s gonna be fine. Reader is also a musician and has a cool but uncontrollable quirk. I can’t say more without spoilers.

About the writer: English is my second language, please be kind.

More notes and fun facts by the end of the chapter!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Chapter one: Off With The Head!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Songs of the day:

Palaye Royale - Off with the head

Underoath - I gave up

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The Present

I miss the sound of my soul

The music of my heartstrings

But the dream is about the end

I can almost feel my heart bleed 

With tears and blood I fought

Cuts deep red and violent

I want to stay with you…

But I’m lost in the silence.

This is the last day you are surrounded by your favorite sound on the Earth; music.

The sound of someone tuning a guitar, a random rhythm played on the drums nearby, the feedback of the amps, the echo of an empty building that’s about to be filled with thousands of people. 

As you throw your favorite pick into the air to catch it halfway down, lazily lying on the uncomfortable sofa in the dressing room you can’t help but wonder; what will your life be when this is over? 

“You’ll be fine, Y/N” comes an answer in your head to the question you never said out loud.

“I thought we made a deal; no sneaking around in my head without asking for permission.” 

“I just wanted to take your hand in case you are lost in that mess inside.”

Haru is your best friend. You’ve been attached by the hip since you met on a band practice; Haru quickly became your favorite person to hang out with as he was the only one who could understand you without words; his telepathy quirk allowed you to have a voice without the need of speaking up, and eventually, it helped you to get through your trauma and be able to speak again. 

There is a reason why you sing so much about silence and there is a reason why you only communicate through telepathy when you’re “Miss X” on the stage; but that’s a different story for a different day. 

Today, you will break your own heart and step on it, grind it in a grinder and throw it in a pit.

You are about to jerk out all your heartstrings out one by one, leaving nothing but emptiness behind. 

You are about to ruin everything you worked so hard for, for the greater good.

You are about to disband the band that saved your life to save everyone else’s instead.

No one ever told you that to be a hero, you need to die first. 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

A story from 3 years ago.

Bakugou Katsuki was a lone wolf.

He enjoyed his solitude, loved the sound of the city rushing under his massive windows on the 7th floor, he loved the peace and quiet of his black and white flat, the beautiful shine of his pure golden handles, the feeling of freedom he felt in his massive living room.

As he sat down on his black fluffy sofa, he couldn’t stop thinking about all his friends; they were out having “fun”, spending all their hard-earned money on booze and band merch. 

Out of his close friend group which consists of Kirishima, Mina, Sero and Denki, Bakugo was the only one in the top 10. The reason was really obvious to him; while his buddies loved to party, loved to get into weird relationships that made them unfocused or grumpy when their significant other broke up with them without an actual proper reason, Bakugo did none of these things.

Bakugo wakes up at 5AM every day, trains until 7 in his own gym, goes to work at 7:30, grinds until 8 in the evening or sometimes 10, then goes to bed right away. 

Some people call it “lonely”, he calls it efficient. 

He’s only 25 yet he owns a massive flat in the fancy area of the city and has enough money in the bank to be able to survive without doing any work for the rest of his life; even tho he hopes he can stay a hero until he’s unable to walk and function properly.

With that said, Bakugo was absolutely happy with his life. He didn’t need alcohol or stupid concerts to have a breather; his work was his life, his reason of existence.

And if that was not enough, he didn’t even listen to music at home as the sounds of his surroundings were calming enough for him to be able to rest after a terrible work day.

Bakugo didn’t understand why was Denki so all over him about this concert, but here he was, jumping around the sofa like a monkey while the blonde tried his best to ignore his existence.

“Bakubro, just this once.” He begged, down on his knees. “You will absolutely love this band. They are super edgy like you, their lyrics are so deep and so meaningful!”

This guy never gives up. 

“Jesus Christ, fuck you.” said the angry blonde standing up from the sofa and pushing Denki just enough to fall on his ass. 

Fucking electric Pikachu and his nonsense… “Okay, I’ll fucking go! But if is sucks balls like the last one I’ll never go anywhere with you ever again. Got it, Dunce Face?” Chargebolt nodded at least 10 times. He literally looked like one of those plastic dogs with the wiggly heads, Bakugo found it quite amusing. 

It only took 10 minutes for the blonde to get ready; he put on an old black t-shirt with a skull printed on the front of it, tight black trousers, a black face mask, some old rings and a necklace he bought when he was an edgy teen, then topped the full set with a black beanie. 

While his main idea was to stay incognito, the whole look worked so well on the blonde that Denki almost had a heart attack. 

“You literally look like a rockstar, man, let’s go.”

Bakugo Katsuki felt really uncomfortable in the crowd. He just wanted to go home and sleep as it was was way past his bedtime. 

The sound of the clinking glasses made him feel super annoyed, he hated the commotion that came with the whole concert, he hated his loud friends cheering for the shitty songs playing in the radio before the gig and if that was not enough to make the blonde feel nauseous, the whole place smelled like spilled beer and sweat. 

The lights turned off all of a sudden; people started to scream and cheer and Bakugo wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He sat down on the bar stool and waited for the lights to come up; but instead of the usual grand entrance with strong, colorful lights and fake fires, there was a sudden announcement in the radio topped up with a massive amount of fog coming from the machines on the sides. 

We are nothing. We are zero. 

We are not dead 

But we are not alive.

We are nothing. We are zero.

But we are free. 

Suddenly, Bakugou forgot how to breathe. 

Heavy rock music blasted through the speakers, resonating in his bones, his head fuzzy, mind blank. He had no idea when he left the bar, but he certainly did. 

3 people emerged from the shadows, their bodies still hidden by the thick fog; their silhouettes made their way to their assigned positions; an outline of a guitar appeared in the middle and another guitar shape with a longer neck appeared on the right; probably the bass. The fog started to disappear so Katsuki took a good look at the two people in front of him; the singer-guitarist had a full black make up, his face was also full of piercings. His attire was edgy and sinister, but there was kindness written all over his features as he smiled at the crowd.  

The bassist; also clothed in all black with neon, hand painted scribbles all over her attire; she had black, long dreadlocks with a few neon green and neon purple streaks hidden in the darkness of her hair, face hidden under a creepy plague doctor mask. She looked like an alternative version of Momo.

As the fog got thinner and thinner in the middle and on the right, the left fog machine was still going on full blast, hiding one half of the stage from the curious eyes of the crowd.

The fog also revealed the drummer; he almost looked tiny behind his massive drum set; his indifferent ice blue eyes barely cared about anything but the drums as he played a heavy rhythm. He was on another level. It made Bakugo miss his early high school days and his random band he had with his friends. 

It also felt like he was a part of the drum set and not a living and breathing person playing the drums. He was there but he wasn’t. His pure white hair blended into the white screen behind him and Katsuki could understand the guy so well; he loved the music he was playing, but he probably hated the fame that came with it so he decided to disguise himself as much as he could to stay sane.

The blonde was mesmerized by how different all these people were yet they worked so well together. The concert only just started but he already felt some weird connection with the band. 

He was just about to get out of his stupor when someone else entered the stage with a massive jump from the side; a beautiful creature with colorful strikes in her otherwise black hair, face mask hiding her face from the crowd. Bakugo swears he saw black paws when the lady first emerged: she jumped high enough to be visible for a few seconds as the fog on the left side was still thick around the ground. Her whole body was full of colorful tattoos, except her face. This person looked almost inhuman, her eyes piercing through your soul, even tho she did her best to not make any eye contact with anyone. Bakugo did not believe in love in first sight. He didn’t believe in love, end of the sentence; but the way his heart fluttered by the sight of this almost inhuman being was worthy to be called something like that.

If her beautifully extravagant presence was not enough, she rocked a black and gold striped guitar with skulls on the neck and horns on the top. Black and gold; just like his home. 

We are nothing. 

But we are here

We are zero 

But we believe 

We are nothing

But we’re not alone

We belong 

We are free. 

The whole “song” sounded like a mantra; it wasn’t about the words or the music for this intro. To be honest, the whole song did not make  any sense, yet you couldn’t stop chanting, you couldn’t stop “feeling”; like the song just went straight to your soul then clawed it’s way up to your mouth to let all your real, bottled up feelings loose.

And Katsuki felt everything; the pain of an unsuccessful rescue, the frustration of having no one to go home to, the emptiness in his heart and the sore in his muscles. Actually, when was the last time he took a day off? 

By the end the concert, the main singer went to the side and ruffled the other guitarist’s head. She looked vicious and adorable at the same time. Katsuki couldn’t stop staring at the friendly interaction; so she is a human, after all. 

“Your turn, X. Show them what you got” 

Instead of talking, she just nodded and went to the middle without making an eye contact with the crowd. She was in her own little world. 

She took her mask off and knocked her fingers on the microphone 3 times. Her face was decorated by a few piercings here and there; the same kinds the other guitarist was wearing.

Needless to say, in Bakugo’s eyes she was even more beautiful without the mask. 

“She said hi” translated the bassist, and before Katsuki could think too much about what just happened, miss X played the first few chords. The guitarist guy put his guitar on a stand and went straight to the piano at the back. 

The crowd went silent. 

I stay behind 

I stay quiet 

I let you hurt me

Bloody and silent

The sound of the guitar was clear, it almost sounded like an acoustic session. Miss X barely sang; she just whispered into microphone. 

I want to scream 

But I have nothing to say

No strength to talk

No words to spare 

Her voice got stronger, but wavered like she actually had no strength to sing this song until the end. The whole place felt stuffy, anxiety popping off the walls. Some people just stared at the stage, silently crying. 

As my silent tears 

Fall down on my face 

I leave you behind 

I am done with the pain

I have no voice

I have no words to say

I might be broken 

But I can still run away 

Slowly, her voice got clearer and clearer; with a crooked smile on her tear stained face, she pressed a button on the floor. 

Katsuki almost fainted when the clear sound became distorted and loud.

Suddenly, the clear voice changed to a scream, the slow melody turned into heavy rock music and the whole place woke up from their daze. 

I’m done with the pain 

I won’t let you hurt me

Not anymore 

You played me so dirty

The blood on your hands 

Won’t wash away 

The hole in your heart

Won’t ever mend

You will rot away 

In your personal hell

Your soul so broken 

An unfixable mess 

The sound got heavier and heavier then got to a sudden halt; the guitar settings were changed again to a less aggressive sound. Her voice sounded broken and weak but still aggressive, leaving goosebumps on the hero’s skin.

I wish you could have seen

The love you left behind 

The hope of a future 

Happy and kind 

I gave you all the chances 

I gave you my all

You broke all your promises 

You’ve broken them all

While first Katsuki thought the song will be a break up song, the melody and the lyrics made him think otherwise. Katsuki worked with people with trauma. He knows a broken soul when he sees one. 

As you lost yourself in pity 

As you completely lost your mind

Freedom might be lonely,

But I welcome them with a smile.

Katsuki was shaking. 

Katsuki also somehow ended up in the first row. 

As Miss X finished the song, there were no cheers coming from the crowd. Everyone was too shook to their core to speak up.

The singer suddenly found Katsuki in the crowd and showed off her broken smile again, just for him, wiped her tears off with a napkin she got from the guitarist and the whole band left the stage. 

The lights went off again. 

We are nothing. We are zero. We are free. 

As the room got bright and the life came back into the building, Katsuki left the crowd, left his friends and went straight to the exit. 

He had no voice. He had no words to say. 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Things have changed for Bakugo in the last few years. 

After his first concert, Bakugo closed himself off a for a few days to think about what he wants to do with this newly found obsession of his. He is not the type of guy to get so involved in music or a person but he couldn’t stop thinking about that one song sang by that one beautiful creature. 

The blonde is also an extremely stubborn person, so looking into Denki’s eyes and telling him he was right was the biggest challenge of his life and he almost died for saving this country, so that says a lot. 

After a few days, Bakugo came out of his shell and embraced his new self; the guy who goes on gigs sometimes and actually enjoys them. 

His old rings became a part of him. He’s still himself; but more open minded and a bit more edgy. He also owns some cool merch now.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The present 

It’s that day again. The day when Katsuki is able to see his favorite person on Earth; Miss X. 

“Oh, someone looks edgy and cool, are you off to see your wifey again, Kacchan?”

Oh yes. His friends found his obsession hilarious and even Deku decided to bully him for it.

“I would shut my trap if I were you. You might need your balls one day. Oh, wait!” Katsuki makes a dramatic surprised face and looks deeply into the green nerd’s eyes. “You probably won’t.” 

“Hm, this is quite a bold statement from someone who never had a partner in his life.” Says Todoroki Fucking Shouto, the prince on the white horse, the forever defender of princess Deku. 

“Fuck the both of you, I’m out.” Katsuki rolls his eyes at the two and leaves.

His relationship with Deku changed a lot since he started to go out more with people. They might sound the same as they were in high school, but instead of their usual rivalry, they just work side by side now as the first and second best hero in Japan. Katsuki is aware that Shouto could easily take their spots and be the first if he wanted to, but he decided to join Deku’s agency to make his old man furious instead. He’s still the third best hero in Japan and  he looks comfortable with his current position; it makes Katsuki’s blood boil.

As Bakugou’s favorite band is based in Japan, he was able to see them 9 times in last 3 years. He usually gets 2 weeks off when they are on tour and he goes to at least 3 or 4 gigs per tour. It’s quite convenient this way; he’s able to use his holidays, see new cities in Japan and because traveling all around the country costs a fortune, non of his friends is willing to pay the money to come with him so he is able to have a few, peaceful days to himself and himself alone. It’s annoying enough to have them around on every single concert in Tokyo. One time Denki decided to make a sign that said “Marry me Miss X” and gave it to Katsuki before the concert. Needless to say, the sign was burned into ashes before they stepped into the building. 

This concert is special to him. First of all, this is his 10th concert, second of all, this is the last gig of the tour; it’s a special Tokyo gig with only 100 tickets available. Katsuki was lucky to win one ticket for himself but thankfully, no one else in his friend group could get one. 

As Katsuki opens the door to get into the tiny venue in the middle of the city, he’s welcomed by familiar faces; there are no cordons this time and one half of the band is already sitting on the stage, chatting away with the fans and answering questions. His eyes wonder around the venue and he smiles; Miss X and the band’s Drummer Yuki somehow managed to find the highest place in the building, which is a massive shelving system for the booze behind the bar and they are silently watching the other two talking from the top of the cabinet like two indoor cats looking for excitement in a boring flat.

Katsuki hears a quiet snicker coming from miss X, and Yuki takes his wallet out and gives her some money. 

“X said you’ll find us in 10 seconds and I said you won’t.” Shrugs the guy like they didn’t just make Katsuki’s heart miss a beat by acknowledging his existence. 

“Thanks, I guess?” Answers the baffled hero and    instead of his usual water, he asks for a glass of whiskey. 

“Our treat!” Grins the drummer and jumps off the cabinet with a massive thump. Miss X lands right in front of Katsuki on the middle of the counter, almost spilling his whiskey; she looks at the beverage like it personally offended her and takes a sip from it before disappearing into thin air. When he looks down at the counter there is some change and a note next to his drink. 

“This is a goodbye, but this isn’t the end. X.”

Katsuki is a little bit smitten right now, but… he definitely did not like the sound of that message. He only hopes he completely misunderstood what Miss X was trying to say.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“Seems like Miss X wants to start this gig so let’s meet in 5 minutes guys!” Speaks up your best friend who’s still outside talking to the fans. 

It’s happening. This is the last time people will hear your voice. 

You know you shouldn’t have left that message to Dynamight. You know he’s probably all freaked out right now. But while you never talked to the guy; you never talked to anyone except your closest friends to be exact; he was such a great supporter for so long and you wanted to warn him about what is about to happen. You wanted to tell him in person in your own, messed up way.

“Y/N, are you ready?” Says the voice inside your head and you wake up from your daze. Haru is right next to you, with a sad smile on his face. 

You nod your head and make your way to the now dark stage; it’s time to scream your heart out one more time before the silence swallows you whole. 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

As the light goes off, Katsuki emerges from the bar and makes his way to the side of the stage; it might not have the best view of the band, but he enjoys being close to the stage without other people bumping into him, and no one ever had to guts to send him away from his spot before, so he hopes for the same for this time. 

The concert starts with the usual song; Zer0, which is actually the band’s name as well. 

We are nothing. We are zero. But we are free. 

Katsuki knows something is wrong right after the first few notes of the intro; the always smiling guitarist, Haru just stares at the crowd for a moment and as Miss x emerges from the fog, she “accidentally” bumps into the guy to get him out of his head. 

The rest of the concert goes as usual; the crowd cheers, then the crowd cries when Miss X takes the mike from Haru to sing her heart out. The concert is about to end but there are 3 taps on the mike right before the lights are supposed to come back. The teary eyed crowd silently stares at miss X who doesn’t look like she’s about to leave the stage.

So this is it - Katsuki thinks. - This is what the message was about. 

“There is a song I wrote for today.” Speaks up the always silent guitarist, and everything freezes; no one dares to look away. “This is our last song as a band. Our journey has come to an end. I want to thank you guys for everything. So… listen to me one last time.”

All the lights go off on the stage except for 4 spotlights; one for each member. Miss X starts to play a song no one has ever heard; the song start off with a pleasant but melancholic melody; it’s full of pain, determination and longing.

I miss the sound of my soul

The music of my heartstrings

But the dream is about the end

I can almost feel my heart bleed 

With tears and blood I fought

Cuts deep red and violent

I want to stay with you

But I’m lost in the silence.

Miss X looks to the side; she looks right at Katsuki who can’t help his tears this time. For his surprise, Miss X keeps her eyes on him for the next few lines, like he’s the only one in the building who would understand the meaning behind her words. 

This is a goodbye 

But this isn’t the end 

I’m not giving up

I just need to defend 

Defend the ones in need 

Defend the ones in pain

To help the world to heal

So we can all be free again.

With tears in her eyes, she gives Bakugou a broken smile and he can’t help but smile back. 

He understands. He understand this way too much. 

This is a goodbye 

But this isn’t the end 

Take my hand to see 

This future ahead 

This future full of smiles 

Where no one’s left behind 

Where voices are heard 

And hearts are always warm 

Miss X takes a deep breath and tries her best not to cry out loudly; the song is about to end which means… these are her last words to the fans.

But we won’t stop fighting 

We won’t let you down

Our melody of freedom

Won’t ever die. 

Everything comes to a sudden halt; darkness swallows the whole building as the band members disappear one by one. A loud “fuck!” is heard from the back of the stage; probably one of the members having a meltdown in the backstage area; it was broken and manic, probably coming from a person full of tears and frustration. Katsuki’s guess is the main singer-guitarist Haru, as he was out of it the whole time while playing on the stage. 

After the show is over, Katsuki feels nothing but emptiness. He already cried enough in the last few minutes to not be frustrated about the sudden announcement, and he also had 2 whole hours to get ready for it thanks to the message he got from Miss X before the concert. Everyone else is in pieces; random strangers are comforting each other in the first few rows, some people are shamelessly bawling their eyes out in the corners, some others left right when the concert has ended as they did not feel comfortable showing emotions in front of so many strangers. 

Katsuki takes a deep breath and makes his way outside; the message from Miss X safely hidden in his jacket pocket for the days when he can’t help but miss the freedom he felt during these concerts. 

He always wanted to be a hero, but having something else to wait for made his job so much easier for him. Before his first concert, he always felt like a caged animal who’s only existing to serve; a disposable tool who’s ready to die any day for the greater good. 

Katsuki already feels the cage door closing down on him; the feeling of dread and misery washing over him and burning his skin and bones like acid. 

As Dynamight makes his way home by foot to clear his mind he can’t stop thinking about Miss X’s lyrics; he has a feeling their path will cross again in the near future but it might as well just be a lie made by his brain to cope with his current situation. 

It’s not like Miss X will magically fall from the sky right into Katsuki’s arms on a random sunny afternoon. Life is not a cringy romantic movie, but Katsuki, for the first time in his lonely life, wishes it was. 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

1 month later 

Dynamight isn’t the most liked hero in Japan at the moment. 

Well, he was never a fan favorite; thanks to being short-tempered and almost anti-social when it comes to any kind of human interaction, Bakugo was only admired from a safe distance, and only by those who actually did their research to see how much he has done for this country when he was a teen. 

Katsuki knows he has no chance to be the Number 1 hero anyway; Deku’s name is the same as All Might’s - Saint and Untouchable, the Symbol of Victory and peace, the savior of Japan and probably the whole world, as he likes to travel abroad to help out other countries in the time of need. 

Japan is in a really good place right now; even with the Number 1 hero being away, villains still have no chance against the current heroes as their generation was not only trained to fight off bad guys but also to win an impossible war. 

Katsuki also lost years worth of experience after his fight with All for One; Katsuki had some serious surgeries at a young age, so him being Number 2 is an absolute miracle anyway. He might be stubborn, but he‘s old enough now to know when to give up. 

With that said, Bakugou’s reputation went down even more in the last few weeks.

Since Zer0 disbanded, Katsuki didn’t really know what to do with all his pent up energy so seeing Dynamight in the news for almost blowing up the paparazzi was a weekly occurrence. 

Today was one of those days when Katsuki was ready to blow someone’s face up if they came close to him; and the fact that he could feel someone tailing him in the shadows of the alley didn’t help his mental state at all. 

Katsuki honestly does not understand the paparazzi. They literally behave like the villains sometimes; they follow people, lurk in the shadows and they also ruin everyone’s precious eyesight with their camera’s flash and then they get offended for being blown to the moon by accident. Like bruh, don’t be an ass if you don’t want to be smacked in the face, am I right?

And also, how is he supposed to know if he’s being followed by an enemy or just by a paparazzi trying to get some money to feed his family? Being a famous hero is mentally exhausting. 

The blonde lost himself in his thoughts for a second there, which was a terrible mistake.

The next moment everything happens all at once; a loud thump as something hits the back of his head, the world spinning around for a few moments, his back hitting the wall with great force - Dynamight collects himself enough to find the enemy, but his eyes can see nothing but the darkness of the alley.

The enemy has an invisibility quirk. Bakugou is absolutely fucked. 

There’s also a massive gash on the back of his head, blood trailing down his neck, dampening his shirt; but that’s fine. He was in the mood for a good fight anyway. 

He is just about to fight the invisible culprit by throwing explosions in every direction until it actually hits the target when a black, panther-like shadow emerges from the top of the building; but Katsuki’s head is throbbing so much he can barely concentrate on the invisible fight let alone on another shadow attacking from behind; Katsuki’s mental instability is clearly clouding his decisions right now and he is definitely not prepared for a proper fight tonight. 

One of his explosions finally hit the villain and the impact makes him visible for long enough for Katsuki to land a good punch; but his knuckles meet with nothing but the thin air as the black shadow snatches the now fully visible villain by his neck. 

Katsuki needs a moment to get the full picture here. For the first few seconds, he can see a black panther in a ghost form - what? - literally CHOMPING on the guys neck while throwing him into the brick wall of the alley. The villain goes through the wall, into the building, his body almost completely covered by the falling debris; needless to say, he is not going anywhere and Katsuki is sure he’s also unconscious if not dead already. 

Katsuki takes a few steps back from the panther, ready to fight for his actual life if that thing attacks him; but the panther suddenly morphs into a black fog and from it emerges a… person. A person he missed so dearly in the last few weeks. 

This is all a fever dream, a vision (thanks to his severe concussion) or a shape shifter villain. This isn’t real. 

“You… needed help?” Comes a small, stuttering voice Katsuki knows way too much. 

“Stay away.” Warns the blond, getting in a defensive position, barely standing. The new “enemy” turns their head to one side like a dog, confused, but it only takes her a few moments to understand the situation. 

“This is a goodbye, but this isn’t the end.” says Miss X, clearly uncomfortable with being forced to talk for so “long” and Katsuki can’t take this anymore; the hope of safety washes over him as his bleeding head almost meets the concrete. Thanks to Miss X’s quick reflexes, he lands in her arms instead. 

“I was about to finish him off.” Slurs the blonde and Miss X snickers quietly at the response. 

She did fall from the sky - thinks the hero, amused by his own correct prediction as a sweet, pleasant scent fills up his nose right before he passes out due to the blood loss he didn’t have time to acknowledge in the heat of the moment. 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

To be continued in Chapter 2 - Concrete Jungle

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Wow, I feel like I just gave birth to a child.

I hope you guys liked the first chapter of this story, I’m so excited (and anxious) to write the rest of it!

Some side notes about the first chapter:

💥 The Readers Guitar is a Schecter Synyster Gates Custom S, Sustainiac in black and gold.

💥 The intro’s sound is similar to the Palaye Royale song (at least in my head haha) and the main song of the first concert is similar to the Underoath song, hence why there are 2 songs for this chapter for you to listen to (you don’t need to tho!)

I have no idea how to write lyrics so please don’t judge me too much. Thank you. 💥

💥I know That Bakugou shouldn’t faint so easily but keep in mind that he was really out of it, the attack was unexpected and he wasn’t in his hero costume either so… poor guy was the wrong place at the wrong time in the wrong mindset.

💥 Also random fun fact: I based the drummer on my boyfriend of 8 years who also played the drums in a band when we first met and I find it absolutely hilarious that I ended up using his personality for one of my silly side characters! 😂

Have a great day, guys! 💜

P.s. I can also make a taglist for this one if you guys are interested!

[sleekervae]

The Neighbour [4.6]

Masterlist

A/N: Christ on a crutch, here we are!! Thank you again to everyone for your patience! It was so tough writing a good conclusion to Eva's journey and over all I'm very happy with this! And I think considering that we're about to enter into another new Palaye era speaks volumes to this transition. Thank so much again for your patience! Happy reading!

Warnings: some emotional angst, fluffy reunion, Happy American Thanksgiving to those who celebrate

--

Thanksgiving was rarely ever a grand, extravagant affair in the Kropp family; nonetheless, subtle nuances from the previous year's celebration were easily discernible. Their once exuberant friends-giving festivity now found a cozy haven within the confines of Remington and Emerson's dining room. The smells of warm spices and gravy wafted through the air, a mouth-watering promise for what was to come. A select few friends exchanged shared, delectable side dishes amid clouded conversations, all the while Sebastian was attempting to carve up the turkey in the kitchen. He had only uttered a few cuss words so Remington figured it was going well enough.

He was only partially listening to Caity's conversation with his mom, catching up on work endeavours and whatever plans they may've had for Christmas. However, Remington couldn't help but keep glancing at his phone, once, twice, his mind racing as he wondered where Eva could've been. She told him she'd call him before their own Thanksgiving dinner, though he noted how quiet she'd been since the latest update on her mother's health. He wondered if he should just say fuck it and call her himself, though he'd panic before he could, assuring him that she probably just needed her space. She was supposed to be home in a day, and it felt like it couldn't come fast enough.

"Earth to Remington!" Caity waved her hand in front of his face and he instantly snapped out of his trance, “Copy if you read us,”

"What was that?" Remington asked.

"What do you want for Christmas, doofus," Caity asked, holding back a chuckle, "C'mon! You've been so quiet all night! I know we're still pandemic-struck but still!"

Stephanie simpered, "He's missing Eva, that's all,"

"Mom," Remington grumbled, "That makes me sound like a whiney pre-teen,"

"Well, you're certainly moping around like one," she replied, "Why don't you go help Sebastian?"

"Mom, he's supposed to be slicing turkey, not me," he replied.

Caity simply just rolled her eyes, "Oh, c'mon Remi! He's not gonna do that. Not with witnesses around, anyway," she joked.

"Speaking of your brothers, where's Emerson?" Stephanie turned her head, glancing around the room.

"Probably seeking refuge in his hobbit hole," Michael said as he passed by, crunching on a cracker with slathered in artichoke dip, "Great dip by the way, Stephanie,"

"Thank you Michael!" she beamed back.

None on them were the wiser to Emerson curled up on the stairs, sketching away in his notebook and far away from the camaraderie in the kitchen. He had Pluto nestled beside him, his leg still wrapped in the blue cast, though he was unbothered as he snored away beside the youngest brother. Emerson would pause between pen strokes to give the tabby an affectionate head pat, he figured this was the coziest the cat had ever been in the time he'd known him.

Emerson's train of thought was broken suddenly when the doorbell echoed through the hall, and his heavy eyes glanced up to the front door. Pluto perked up as well, raising his head and his ears sprung up. Emerson glanced over the railing towards the crowd, calling out.

"Hey! There's someone at the door!" though to no surprise, nobody could hear him. He figured he could've answered the door himself, but he was already comfortable in his spot and he didn't want to disturb Pluto, "Remington! Sebastian! Michael!" and still, no one could hear him.

And so, in true Emerson fashion, he whipped out his phone and began to type...

Remington had just finished pouring himself a glass of wine when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket, whipping it out faster than a gunslinger in the west. However, he was dismayed when he saw Emerson's text:

Someone's at the door

With an eye roll, Remington texted back.

Where are you?

Sitting on the stairs

So why don't you go answer the door?

Because I don't want to disturb the cat

The cat with a broken leg, mind you...

It's sprained, not broken

Same difference

Remington huffed, setting down his wine glass and begrudgingly heading for the front door. Sure enough, he passed his little brother on the stairs, the tabby cat nestled against his legs. He glanced between him and the front door.

"You really couldn't make the ten foot walk to open the door?" he asked, tone verging on bitterness.

Emerson shrugged back, "Would you disturb this innocent child?" he pointed to Pluto with his pen, "Besides, our visitor is probably catching a cold out there,"

"They'd be catching less of one if you just got proactive," he muttered back, "Did we invite anybody else?"

"I don't think so," Emerson replied, "Maybe it's Amazon?"

Remington reached for the door knob, "I didn't order anything..."

He wrenched the door open, steeling himself to welcome a potential unexpected visitor or perhaps discover a package-bearing Amazon delivery person. Yet, astonishment washed over him as his eyes widened in disbelief at the sight of Eva standing on his stoop, luggage in tow behind her.

"-- Eva!?" his voice quivered slightly, yet the edges of his mouth tugged upward in a smile tinged with incredulity.

She locked her left right ankle in front of her left, smiling with giddy and a twinkle in her eye, "... surprise!" she half-sang, half-giggled.

Remington scooped her up in his arms without a second thought, hugging her tightly to his chest, inhaling her vanilla essence. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, her cold nose pressed to his skin but quite frankly he couldn't care. He missed her so damn much.

"I thought you weren't coming home until tomorrow?" he murmured, relief laced in his voice nonetheless.

"I was, but I just... I needed to come home," she replied, "I missed you so much,"

"Fuck me, I missed you more," he kissed her, aching for the comforting familiarity of her chapstick's faint sweetness, the pillowy softness of those lips he could've spent hours kissing. Eva wound her arms around his neck and pulled him to her with an intensity that surpassed mere physical proximity, reveling in the sanctuary of his embrace.

"Eva?" Emerson's voice suddenly rattled from behind them. The couple broke apart and glanced over, Remington was none too surprised to see Emerson hadn't bothered to move from his spot on the stairs. That didn't stop him from craning his neck like a giraffe to try and see what was happening.

"He's still not getting up!" Remington shook his head as he grumbled.

Eva tittered softly, "Hi Emerson,"

"How did you get a flight so fast?" he asked.

She shrugged, stepping aside as Remington moved to grab her luggage from out of the cold, "My sister's boyfriend has a cousin who works for the airline, turns out," she replied, "... I hope you guys don't mind having one more dinner guest?"

"Are you kidding me?" Emerson gawked back, "I'm willing to sacrifice Sebastian in order to make space for you myself. Right Pluto?" he glanced down at the tabby.

Pluto finally made the move from the stairs, slinking down the marble and hobbling over to his master. Eva was nevertheless quite concerned when she noticed the bright blue cast on his leg.

"What the -- Pluto!" she was careful as she picked him, cradling the big baby in her arms as she turned to Remington, "What happened?"

Remington smiled sheepishly, glancing between her and the cat as he nervously puffed his cheeks, "Ah... well, he -- uh... Emerson?"

"Nope, you're on your own here," the youngest brother muttered.

"Remington..." Eva stared up up at him, anxiously awaiting some sort of explanation.

Remington sighed, "He... it's a long story but basically your neighbour is insane and he fell off your balcony. But we rushed him to the vet as fast as we could!"

"I've never seen Sebastian drive that fast," Emerson tacked on.

Eva glowered at her tabby, who was none the wiser as he cuddled into her shoulder, his claws gripping tightly to her jacket, "Jesus Christ. Why didn't you call me?" she asked the brothers.

"Because you had so much you were dealing with and we didn't want to worry you," Remington replied, remorseful and uneasy, "But I should've called you. That's on me, I'm sorry,"

Eva shook her head, "You're damn right you should've! I have pet insurance!" she exclaimed, "I could've had the bill covered!"

Remington simpered, "Honestly Eva, don't worry about the bill," one hand moved to her waist and the other rubbed between Pluto's ears, "As long as Pluto's still running around, I couldn't care less,"

Eva's apprehension settled as she relaxed in his embrace, cuddling the cat closer to her chest, "You god damn chaotic mess of fur; I'm seriously gonna' get you a bell!"

"Wouldn't be the worst idea," Emerson said, finally making the move to stand, "C'mon, I'm hungry," and he started for the dining room, notebook still tucked under his arm. Remington simply shook his head as he walked off.

"You know, he just watched while Sebastian yelled at me about peeling carrots. Like -- it's not hard to peel carrots!" he said.

Eva shook her head with a gentle laugh, pressing up on her toes to press another kiss to his cheek, "I'm sure you did just fine. It smells amazing in here,"

"That's mom's artichoke dip,"

She followed Remington into the dining room, still holding Pluto in her arms as they joined their friends. Shy was the first to rise from her seat, rushing over to envelop Eva in a tight hug. Meanwhile, Sebastian poked his head out from the kitchen, curious about the sudden commotion. Eva wasn't surprised to see his apron draped over his stylish pinstripe suit underneath. Chairs were shifted, a new place setting was prepared, and despite Eva's offer to assist, Larissa and Stephanie insisted that she sit back and relax.

The turkey was brought out soon enough, accompanied by a spread of sumptuous sides and a delicious bottle of wine. The table was alive with chatter: Michael animatedly discussing the band's latest video plans, Caity and Hayden enthusiastically sharing their upcoming Christmas trip itinerary. Amidst it all, questions came Eva's way—about her mother, her early return home, her fatigue, and more. Yet, in that moment, Eva couldn't have felt happier. She basked in the warmth of the gathering, feeling entirely at ease, all traces of anxiety vanishing with Remington's arm draped casually across her shoulders.

Only a couple hours later the house was emptied, plates were partially washed and thrown hastily in the dishwasher, any leftovers were packed up and sent home with friends. And because he had shown the least amount of effort in prep, the brothers decided it was Emerson's job to tidy up the table. Remington meanwhile had hauled Eva's bag upstairs, much to her protests that she could do it herself but he remained insistent; he was just so happy to have her home.

Her bag was barely unzipped before Remington threw himself on the bed, chin cupped in his hand as he watched her begin to unpack. There were a plethora of questions burning in his brain.

"Soooo..." he trailed.

"So?" Eva queried.

"Why are you home early?" he asked, "I didn't want to pile on at dinner but..."

Eva placed down the shirts she was about to pull out, sighing as she took a seat on the bed, "Well... you want the long story or the short story?"

He simply shook his head, "Whatever you want to share, where ever you wanna' start,"

She shifted over so she could lay beside him, her hands coming to rest over her stomach as she stared up at the ceiling, "Well... we got a call from the hospital Friday morning..."

Eva's heart dropped when she saw the caller ID flash for the hospital, nevertheless she picked up the call and brought the speaker to her ear, hesitating before she answered, "H-Hello... yes, that's me..."

Magda, Greg, and Theo watched silently as Eva turned her back, her voice coming to a hushed octave. Impatient as ever though, the oldest sister turned to her brothers, "What the hell is going on now?" she asked, tone verging on exasperation.

Greg scoffed back, "Well, in not so many words, Eva's not a match for mom's transfer. But someone else is," he replied.

Magda glowered at him, "And are we waiting for a 90s soap-opera style dramatic pause, or...?"

"She's seeing someone else," Theo admitted, "I guess you guys already knew that -- but he stepped up as a potential donor..."

Magda's eyes went wide, "-- No... Greg!" she turned to him, "Please don't tell me..."

Greg nodded solemnly, "He's a perfect match for the kidney. They're gonna have him prepped this week, after the holiday," he confirmed.

At that, Eva got off the phone with a simple, "Alright, thank you..." and she turned to her siblings. She felt her hands shaking, her heart racing as though she'd had drank coffee on an empty stomach and the caffeine was just beginning to kick in. This whole journey, all of this fighting and tiptoeing and pillage of more trauma had all in turn been for nothing.

"Whelp, she struck again," Magda sighed with a head shake, "Crazy old battle axe did it again..."

Greg steeled himself against the wall, utter defeat overcoming his face, "So, is Julien asking dad for the number of his divorce attorney, or..."

"He has someone," Theo admitted, his eyes averted to the ground, "He said he's always kind of suspected something was up,"

Magda scoffed, "Not to be a downer but as the saying goes: if they cheat with you, they cheat --"

"Mags!" Greg stopped her with a swift glare, nodding his head to their younger sister. Eva was just frozen on the spot, dark blue eyes glazed over as she stared off into space. There was partial relief overwhelming her, she didn't have to go under the knife after all. However, so much had happened in three days, so much mental strain and it had finally taken its toll on her.

"Eva?" Magda stood up and approached her slowly, picking off the reflection of tears brimming, "Eves, are you okay?"

Eva didn't -- couldn't respond. For once in her life she was at a complete loss for words; and yet she had so many thoughts scratching in her brain, so much jumbled jargon to spew out in a twisted heap of nerves and fear but all she could do was give a silent nod, her eyes clamped shut in a futile attempt to stop herself from crying.

Magda caught her just before the dam burst, holding her tightly as the first few sniffles and sobs left her. The two sisters held each other tightly, the eldest not uttering a word as she just held her, rubbing her back as she cooed softly, "It's okay honey, let it out. It's okay,"

Theo couldn't stand to watch anymore, stepping forward to throw his arms around the pair. Greg followed suit, a solemn scene in the antiquated kitchen with the despair finally being lifted from all of them. Eva had so much anger she was still holding on to, but in this moment she couldn't care less. This mess was finally over, tremendously and brutally over, and all she wanted now was to go home...

"... we didn't really plan for a proper Thanksgiving, so we kind of threw some stuff together last night and called it a day," she finished off, her gaze having never left the ceiling, "And Magda's boyfriend got me a last-minute ticket this morning. I was on the second standby out of town,"

Remington stayed beside her the entire time, listening intently, his mind blown at the full revelation of Eva's trip. He was relieved on the one hand knowing she wouldn't have to go under the knife after all, on the other hand he could see how such a plot twist had rattled her, dredging up old feelings she was sure she didn't have to deal with again.

"Holy fuck..." he gaped in awe, "She just threw away her family like that? No explanation, no nothing?"

"Straight to the calculating point, it's her pattern," she sighed, chuckling with pity, "It's classic: she'll let him play as her white knight until she gets bored and finds someone else to pull into her web. She's never gonna' stop, Rem,"

"And that's not your problem," he cuddled up beside her, gently drawing his arm around her body, enfolding her in the embrace of his chest, "I'm so sorry, Eva,"

"Why?" she glanced up at him.

"Because, you went over there with the best intentions and it just -- I just don't want this to affect you more then it already has. I'm worried, is all," he explained.

"I'm okay, Remington," she turned over onto her side, coming nose-to-nose with him, "I'm okay, I swear to you. I'm a little worried about Theo, but Greg assured me he's gonna keep an eye on him. He's done nothing to deserve any of this,"

"Neither have you. I'm proud of you, though," he said.

"Why?"

"You made up with your sister. That's not nothing, believe me," he chuckled at the end, "And you and Greg got closer, and you gaped bridges with Theo and his dad, that's not nothing,"

Eva simpered quietly, "I think you meant 'mend bridges'? 'To bridge a gap' means having the qualities of two different groups or things or... stuff,"

All Remington could do was laugh, at her train of thought, at the sleepy slur of her voice, how her lips curled when she knew she was correcting him but she tried to play it off as no big deal. Words alone couldn't express how much he missed this girl, and how it would be a long damn time before he spent such time away from her again.

"There's my girl," he awed, pressing kisses to her cheeks and her nose, "I missed you so fucking much,"

"I missed you, too," Eva giggled, squirming in his arms but she made no move to push him away; she was just so happy to be home again. She sighed when he let up, pushing loose locks of blonde hair behind his ears, "Do you think you're ever gonna' cut your hair?" she asked curiously, "Not that I don't love this look on you,"

Remington scoffed, "It is getting a liiiiittle long," he admitted, "You miss my spikes?"

"Yeah! They're so quintessentially you!" she replied, "But then there's so many more layers to you than just your hair. I love every side of you,"

With no hesitation he buried his face in the crook of her neck, overwhelmed in her familiar scent, pressing soft kisses to her pulse point as she wrapped her arms around him, "You're so fucking cute. I love you so much," he mumbled.

Eva smirked back, her fingers threading through his hair the way she knew he melted at, "Mmm, I think I love you more," she said.

"Not possible," he squeezed her tighter to him to make his point.

"I don't know about that," she teased, "You're only the greatest thing that happened to me in my life, so..."

Remington couldn't keep the beaming smile off of his face, shifting up so they were at eye-level with each other. His next words spilled out before his brain could catch up, impulsively escaping from his lips:

"I'm gonna' marry you one day,"

To say Eva was a little taken aback was an understatement, "What?" it took her another minute to process what he'd just said to her.

Remington chuckled bashfully, "Not like -- now or anything. But one day down the line... when you're least expecting it, I'm gonna' ask you to marry me," he decided.

"Oh really?" Eva cocked a brow, resisting the urge to bite her lip, "And you just assume that I'm gonna' say yes?"

"Of course I do," with tender affection, Remington traced small circles under Eva's sweatshirt, his touch light and comforting. She turned towards him, a soft smile gracing her lips, and met his gaze with a warmth that spoke volumes, "I love you. I'm a way better person everyday because of you. You are every reason, every hope, every dream I've ever had and no matter where we go in the future, I will always be yours," he brought his hand up to her cheek, caressing the soft skin as though she were porcelain, "And you, my darling, will always be mine,"

Earlier that day, Eva had sworn to herself she wouldn't cry upon her return. Yet, despite her determination, she couldn't stifle the swell in her chest, the insistent pull at her tear ducts, nor the overpowering wave of affection she had for Remington. Each word he spoke felt like a lifeline, flowing from his lips in his husky voice, and she clung to them fervently.

"Oh my God," her eyes fluttered closed as she tried to bury her face in the sheets, "I take it back: that's the most romantic thing I've ever heard you say,"

Remington's expression softened, a gentle smile gracing his lips, "Better than William Blake?"

"So much better,"

Closing the distance between them, Remington reached out to brush a stray tear from Eva's cheek. His touch was tender, his fingers lingering against her skin as if tracing the delicate contours of her emotions.

Their connection intensified in the silence that followed, a subtle electricity lingering between them. Remington gently tucked a loose strand of Eva's hair behind her ear, his touch a tender gesture filled with unspoken affection.

Eva's gaze met Remington's, a softness in her eyes that spoke volumes. In that moment, amidst the quiet intimacy of his -- their bedroom, they shared an unspoken understanding, each wordless glance conveying a depth of emotion that transcended spoken language.

[dangerous-disposition]

Being in a gc w me comes with many benefits. Sometimes it's smut and sometimes it's emotional damage

The song was this btw

[wonwoosthetic]

HI MADDIE

I literally havent logged into tumblr in a WHILEEE but i wanted to see whats up with you and how youre doingggg🫶🏻

Also i wanna vent because yesterday i went to one of my life goal concerts(Palaye Royale, if you dont know them and like rock def go check them out i can give song recommendations!!) AND POST CONCERT DEPRESSION IS HITTING HARDDD so now im rereading amour haine & co for comfort:’)

And i just realised i need to look for smut with the frontman.

I LOVE YOU MADDIE CANT WAIT FOR THE NEW CHAPTER WHENEVER IT IS<33333

-ahod anon

OMG HIIIIIIIIIII, HOW HAVE YOU BEEN?????

Please let’s chat again more, I’ve missed you soooo much😭🥺🥺😭😭🥺🥺😭

I’m doing much better now that I’m back to writing and back on here :)

Omgg, I’m so happy for you!!!!👏🏼👏🏼 always open for song recs btw🤗🤗 oh well, then… I hope You’re also gonna enjoy the new chapter🤭🫣

[one-shotsforher]

About Damn Time *Remington Leith One Shot*

A/N: What follows is smut about Remington Leith from Palaye Royale I saw them recently with Yungblud and they were amazing and I’m in love so here you go I know its been five years since I updated and this doesn’t necessarily mean I’m back but here you go here is something

Word Count: 2,353

I sighed to myself and rolled over again. It was almost four thirty in the morning and I wasn’t able to fall asleep. I had been trying and failing for the last two and a half hours. Tonight was just one of those nights.

With another frustrated sigh I sat up, “hey google turn on the bedroom light,” I called quietly into the darkness.

With a quick okay and a flash the overhead light in my room came on. I searched first for my phone which in my tossing and turning had gotten lost in my blanket. I found it and decided to scroll Instagram. The first image set that came up was that of my friend and roommate Remington. He and his brothers are in a band and had recently done a photo shoot for some up coming promo they had planned.

The photo set was of him in a plaid skirt shirtless goofing off in a pool. The first photo of him looking down at the camera I had to admit was rather attractive. Don’t get me wrong he was basically my best friend but I wasn’t blind he was basically perfect. 

There was a knock at my door a subtle tap that pulled me out of my thoughts. Thoughts that had been running rampant lately teasing me with what could be if I was willing to take a chance. Thoughts that showed to me only the good out come not the most likely outcome. The one where I ruin a friendship and make living here weird for the both of us.

“Come in,” I call shaking my head to clear it quickly before Rem steps in. He’s shirtless and in just his black boxers and gray sweats. Sweats that hung low enough to expose the deep v by his hips and the top of his boxers.

“What are you doing up,” he asked rubbing his eyes. I responded with a shrug of my shoulders and tossed my phone to the side making sure to lock it first to avoid his prying eye seeing himself plastered on my screen. “Well since you’re awake do you mind if I hang out here I can’t sleep either?” He asked already making his way to my bed.

“Sure,” I said making room for him on the right side of the bed. This wasn’t an unusual thing for the two of us we usually hung out when either of us couldn’t sleep. Having Rem as a roommate was interesting to say the least. Him and his brothers spent a lot of time touring so sometimes we could go months without seeing each other. This was actually Rem’s second day back after a brief European tour.

“Are you still jet lagged?” I asked not sure how long something like that might last for him.

“A bit but mostly I’ve just got a lot on my mind,” he said with a tired shrug.

“Oh yeah like what?” I asked laying down and turning to face him.

“I dunno, just stuff,” he said shrugging again before sliding down into the same position I was in. 

I was on my back with my head turned to face him and he was also on his back head turned to face me. We laid there shoulder to shoulder in silence for a moment before I spoke, “You know you can tell me anything,” I said softly reaching out a hand to brush his hair off his forehead. His normal spiky hair was a slept in mess standing up in some places and across his forehead in others. 

He grabbed my hand and laced his fingers with mine gently. It was moments like this moments when it was just us two quiet no one else in the world knowing that made my imagination run wild. If we could stay like this if we could just be us for even a little while then maybe I could give in. Give in to my every urge and instinct be with him in the one way I really wanted to.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked his hand dropping mine to mimic my earlier actions brushing a strand of hair out of my eyes. His warm skin brushed against mine sending a chill down my spine.

“You,” I admitted giving him a warm smile behind my words.

“What about me?” He asked his voice low and quiet.

“Your lips,” I mumbled glancing at his lips then his eyes. I guess I made the decision to go with my imagination and hope for the best. This was a conversation we had had multiple times in my head. I only hoped he got his side of the imaginary script and would play along.

His lips pulled into a smirk before he spoke, “what about my lips?”

I hesitated for a second before continuing to speak, “just wondering what they might feel like pressed against mine.”

“Why don’t we find out?” He questioned shifting his position to lay on his side. Was this really happening was I about to kiss Remington? He leaned over me his face inches from mine breath fanning over my face.

I held my breath not moving for fear of making the wrong move. He inches closer his lips pressing gently to mine. My mind began to swim and when my breathing came back it was heavy. I felt Remington begin to pull away knowing the soft gentle kiss was about to end I shuffled up pressing my lips closer to his deepening the kiss. His brief movements away from me now forgotten he pressed his lips meeting mine fully the gentle kiss becoming more heated.

Remington broke the kiss and pulled back his breathing as heavy as mine. Before I could make another move he pressed his lips back to mine and I brought my hand to his face to hold him there. I parted my lips slowly and Rem took the cue to press his tongue against mine. I let my hand trail into his hair gripping it tightly in my fist.

Remington let out a groan and I moved back onto the pillows pulling him with me. His hands found my hips and I parted my legs so he could lay on top of me. His hands pushed up my top but we didn’t break the kiss to remove it he just explored the exposed skin. One of his hands grazed over my breast and it was my turn to groan into the kiss. “Fuck Rem, I want you,” I whined quietly against his lips.

“Are you sure?” He whispered back his eyes searching mine.

“Yes,” I assured him.

A smile broke out across his face, “god you dont know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.”

He proceeded to pull my shirt over my head and pulled his pants down. I pulled my shorts down leaving the both of us in our underwear. Before I could get anxious about being half naked in front of my friend his lips met mine and shut down any insecurity I could have had. His lips were rough this time eager for more. They didn’t stay on mine long they soon found my neck kissing sucking and biting all the right spots. “Mm fuck Remington,” I moaned tugging at his hair again. His hands found their way to my panties. Slowly and teasingly he started to rub me through the thin lace fabric causing me to swear again.

The contact was good but no where near enough. I bucked my hips up begging him silently for more. “No no, love,” he chided quietly, “I’ll be taking my time here… enjoying every second,” he spoke his fingers doing a little walk up my center to my belly button. His teeth came down on my collar bone just as his fingers went back to rubbing me through the now damp fabric of my underwear. I couldn’t help but gasp as the circles he rubbed got harder.

I reached down quickly pushing away his hand and discarded my panties over the side of the bed before he could stop me or say anything. “Someone’s very eager,” he said with a laugh now admiring my fully naked form.

“Shut up and kiss me,” I said pulling his face to mine and pressing our lips together for what felt like the hundredth time that night. I wanted him so bad it hurt and I wasn’t happy with his teasing. I wrapped a leg around him and pushed him over so I was on top all the while keeping his lips locked with mine.

I rotated my hips into his loving the sounds he made, “fuck, (Y/N),” he swore and moved us again so he was back on top. His hands found my wrists and he pinned them above my head using one hand to hold them and the other to trail my body. “Is this what you want?” He questioned as his fingers danced nearer to my core. I couldn’t speak I felt so turned on I just wanted him to touch me to do something. I nodded my head slowly keeping my eyes on his, “use your words,” he demanded his fingers stopping just above where I needed him.

“Yes, touch me please,” I choked out. With a smirk he let his fingers continue down to my clit rubbing in slow deliberate circles. I let out a quiet moan enjoying the pleasure but needing more.

“I love seeing you like this,” he spoke quietly his lips finding my neck again. His fingers danced harder and faster over my sensitive center and a wave of pleasure corded through me from the sensations. His movements ceased and he dipped one finger down into me causing my eyes to screw shut at the new feeling.

One finger quickly became two and he moved them in a swift rhythm. I was nothing short of a moaning mess. “I’m I’m gonna… gonna,” I mumbled out not being able to finish my thought.

“Not till I tell you,” he growled slowing down and pulling out. He took his fingers and pressed them to my lips. I opened my mouth letting him slip his fingers passed my lips licking them clean. He pulled his fingers out of my mouth and pulled down his boxers. He lined himself up and entered me slowly. I moaned at the feeling of him stretching me. I arched my back my chest pressing to his. He groaned in my ear and let out a sigh as he sank in fully. We both waited and I held my breath waiting for myself to adjust.

When I finally adjusted and could breath again he started to move. I moaned quietly my nails finding his back as he picked up the pace.

We both moaned and swore as we got closer. Slowly but surly I got closer and closer, “ugh rem please please I’m so close,” I moaned and scratched at his back.

“Not yet,” he breathed pulling out completely, my inevitable release was delayed again. I let out a frustrated sigh “turn over,” he commanded.

I did as told and turned over my hips and ass in the air. Slowly I felt him sink back in and the pleasure picked up again. The heat between my thighs felt like it could burn us both. By this point I was dripping wet and way beyond ready for my orgasm to take me over but he had other thoughts. He drilled into me placing one hand on my back for leverage the other on my hip to help rock me back into him. Over and over with each thrust the pleasure increased and I thought about not saying anything this time but I couldn’t hold back, “oh ah fuck Rem.”

“Not yet beautiful,” he spoke pulling out of me again. I wanted to scream I wanted to fight but I was getting so exhausted from the constant denial of release that I could barely breath. Rem turned me back over a smirk on his face, “I wanna see your face,” he said pulling me up onto his lap.

He kissed me gently a sweet kiss compared to the previous heat and passion we had been sharing. Slowly while his lips were preset to mine he slid into me again. I broke the kiss and let out a loud moan. “Fu-uck Remington,” I called and I heard him chuckle slightly.

“You look so good like this,” he cooed, “my cock deep inside you your head thrown back just beautiful.”

“Ah fuck fuck fuck,” I cried I was so close I could taste it this time and if he denied me again I don’t think I could take it. “Please please please Rem,” I begged.

“Please what baby girl tell me what you want.”

“Please let me cum, please please I need to cum,” I cried my nails digging into his shoulders.

“Let it go baby,” he said finally letting me give in. I shook and writhed on top of him my orgasm pulsating through me.

“Ah fuck,” he called releasing into me. His thrusting slowed to a stop and the two of us tried to catch our breath. I rested my head on his shoulder and let out a laugh, “What?” He asked pulling my face up to look at him.

“That was… intense,” I spoke with another laugh, “I can’t believe we just did that.”

“About damn time,” he said laughing with me.

I pulled myself out of his grasp and reached for my shirt that was on the floor. I pulled both my shirt and panties on and threw myself back down onto the pillows. Rem pulled on his boxers and laid next to me. “I think I can sleep now?” I mumbled curling myself into his chest. 

“Good, me too,” He said wrapping his arm around me. 

“Hey google turn off the bedroom light,” I called into the now too bright room. With a quick okay the light turned off leaving both of us in the dark.

[remingtonisleithal]

Caught in the Storm

pairing: female!reader x Remington Leith

summary: two besties, being friends, sharing a bed because of a storm, definitely not going to lead to anything more.

warnings: smut, mentions of loneliness, no use of protection (don't be silly, wrap your willy), thigh riding? If you squint sub!remington

author note: if you like this please reblog! also, editing fics in the same room as family is bloody hard. Thank you @bidet-and-legolas for reading it first :)

oh gosh, that smile. He told himself he'd never fall but the moment he spoke to you, it was too late. Remington had fallen for Y/N. Years later, no one knew, but he couldn't keep it to himself for much longer.

You'd just spent the last few hours on his make shift bed on the tour bus, watching movies together. After hours had pasted, he was laying on his back, you were lying on him, back against his chest, and he was wishing that he could just kiss your head, your mouth, all of you. If he was going to make a move, now would be the right time, the guys had gone out for drinks hours ago so you had the bus to yourselves. This way no one would witness the rejection. No, no, he can't think like that. He needs you in his life.

You rolled over to face him more and mumbled a little 'I'm so tired Remi.' You looked at the computer in front of you both and saw it was 11:30pm. The sound of rain thundered down on the bus, as a violent storm began. "Shit, that weather's sounding bad." You were worried to go out into the pouring night. Remington was thinking the same things and said, much more softly than he intended, "Stay?". He coughed a bit and you pushed away the thought that he cared about you more than just a friend. It's just an offer after all, he's not asking you to kiss him... no matter how much you wanted to.

It was then that you realised you were still staring into his beautiful eyes. You wriggled gently to get up, claiming that nature calls and then turning red and regretting saying it instantly. In the small bathroom you hid for a moment, and wondered what to do. Maybe another movie? But you were exhausted and needed to go to sleep. Maybe he wouldn't mind you going to sleep?

"hey Remi?" you asked

"what's up Y/N/N?"

"Do you mind if I have a nap or something? i didn't sleep last night an-"

"Sure, I mean you can stay over if you want. It doesn't look like this storm is leaving." He cut you off.

Moments later, you had stripped into your undies (because no way are you trying to sleep in skinny jeans. Nope) and put on a baggy top Remington handed you, and he had changed into some shorts. And you were squished into his bed, Remington against the wall, you against him, no mattress to spare. It was going to be a long, long night of false unrequited love.

By the 2 am mark, the guys were not back, thunder jolted you awake. A groan.

"I can't fucking sleep with this storm" He groaned, and you agreed.

A moment passed. Silence except the storm.

"So. How's life?" Remington asked with a playful smile and you giggled.

"To be honest? Pretty bad." For once you answered the question with truth. Remington tried to wiggle around onto his back, but it failed. You shuffled over so you were facing each other.

"What's wrong?" his eyes and voice portrayed equal concern

"Nothing is right. To quote a very handsome man, I'm so sick and tired of being alone." he let out a half laugh as you called him handsome. "There's this guy. I love him so much and he will never know. I can't tell him."

"Well that's just dumb. You should tell him, no matter what happens, you have to be honest with yourself." He mentally punched himself for his hypocrisy, but he couldn't think of any other advice. What would he say, 'that's rough buddy'?

"It's not that easy. It's all just so hard. You know my track record with guys and girls, I never pick the right ones, I always get hurt and not in the fun way."

"The fun way? Oh so you like that?" He teased you with a laugh, without realising just how he was teasing you.

"Fuck off Remi. I know you have no rights to judge. My point is no one ever loves me, or seems to know how."

"Are we talking physical or emotional?"

"Both."

Conversations were always easy between you, and you saw no point in ignoring topics like sex.

You had both been looking away from each other for fear that the other might read their eyes and see the love in their souls. You were the first to look back.

"I just wish someone would kiss me. At this point, I'll take anyone! I'm just so fucking lonely. I know he'd never love me back, and-"

"Then he's a coward. He's not worthy for your love or of you if you feel you can't tell him this." He got so mad with jealousy, but overall he just felt horrible, as he believed he'd never be worthy of you. "You're perfect, do you know that?" He mumbled. He lent in, eyes pulling you closer, until the thunder boomed and you jolted apart.

You rolled over, scared, and there wasn't anywhere for Remington to put his arms besides around you. Slowly, you shuffled back into his warm arms and breathed a sigh. He moved around to get comfortable. You moved a little more, moving your hips a bit. You felt something hard against your butt and you let out a silent sigh. Neither of you were comfortable, and it was clear why when you moved your hips again and Remington couldn't hold it in. He let out the sexiest moan you'd ever heard.

"... Ah, Remi?"

"Shit, I'm sorry I didn't mean to I..." He rambled on, mortified and you moved your hips again. That made him shut up.

Turning around you looked into his eyes. They were pleading with you not to leave, not to freak. To just stay with him forever. Before he could stop himself, he lifted a hand to brush some hair away from your face, and, unable to form words, you let out a light whimper.

Neither of you could form coherent sentences, the conversation was held by your eyes. His, full of surprise, asking, 'do you like me?', biting your lip your eyes said yes. He smiled. Your hearts were beating so fast, but he moved slow towards you, gently placing an open mouthed kiss on your lips. A sea of emotions erupted in you as electricity flooded your body. He pulled away to look you in the eyes.

"Y/N, I have loved you since the moment I met you. I'm sorry I've been so scared to tell you, i can't handle the though of losing you."

"I- you- ah-" you couldn't form the words back, but you pulled him closer and kissed him with all the fire you felt in your heart. he responded with a groan and licked your lips, asking for entrance into your mouth.

You didn't hold back, and you explored each others mouths in a moment of excitement, bodies pressed against each other. You pulled away, needing oxygen, but he pulled you back, needing you more than air. Soon your were against each other, moaning, desperate for more.

"Remington?"

"Yes?"

"Take my shirt off?"

His response was immediate, tugging it off you, and claiming your mouth once again. Your hand wandered down his chest to his boxers. He released your mouth for a loud moan and you felt yourself instantly get wetter.

After muttering 'fuck' he kissed down your chest to your boobs, taking one nipple in his mouths and gently pinching the other, until your back was arched in pleasure. You nudged him back up, so you could reach down into his boxers.

He was painfully hard, and he was groaning in a mixture of pleasure and pain, as he had been hard for an hour trying to ignore your beauty.

"Please." he mumbled in your ear. Immediately, you moved your hand and put your leg in between his, starting to rub yourself onto his thigh as he did to yours. You were both a mess, sweaty and begging each other for more, more, more, until eventually you stopped humping him. You kissed down his chest but he stopped you.

"No. Please, I just need you now." So you both searched for a condom. You couldn't find one. He couldn't find one. You were dripping for him and he was painfully hard, you surrendered to your instincts.

You asked "are you good without?"

"I hope so."

You giggled a little but stopped when he took his undies off. He was perfect, enough to stretch you but not to hurt, and you felt your chest constrict without meaning to.

"How do you want me?" You asked

"However you want. I just need you." he said with a sigh

"Fuck" you moaned and climbed onto him.

You fell gently, both crying out in pleasure as you felt in all the way in you. You clenched and he moaned a high pitched moan that only turned you on more. Soon you were a mess, riding him, him thrusting into you in perfect timing, getting closer, closer, closer. Without saying a word he started to rub your clit gently. You screamed in pleasure and asked for him to go harder, faster. You cupped his balls and he groaned.

"I'm not gonna last much longer." he grunted into you, and you lay on top of him, boobs pressed to his chest, turning you on like nothing else. You ran a hand through his spiky, sweat-dampened hair and whispered:

"come into me, then"

You clenched and he was done, and seeing the face he made of pure ecstasy sent you over the edge, coming undone harder than ever before. Hands on your hips he helped you ride it out, and breathing heavy, you stayed like that for a long time.

"wow" was all Remington said and you laughed, rolling over. He climbed across you to find a wet wash cloth and clean you both up, taking time to kiss you softly and he cleaned you, only making you wet again.

"I love you Remington."

"I lov-" the doors to the bus suddenly opened, Sebastian screeched and shut it immediately, not wanting any more of a visual than he got. Neither of you realised the rain had stopped.

[descentintobandom]

Hang On

Title: Hang On Chapter: One-Shot Pairing: Andy/OC/Remington Rating: T Fic Summary: Author’s Notes: Inspired by Palaye’s new song “Hang On to Yourself”. Can we please agree that this song should be on everyone’s “Songs to have sex to” playlist?

“What did you want to show me?” Jenni asked Remington. She’d been upstairs when he texted her to come down to the studio.

Remington said nothing as he pressed the play button.

She heard a sexy beat and trumpets before Remington’s voice came out of the speakers.

Remington, who was standing behind her, put his hands on her hips and coaxed her to sway with him as he sang softly in her ear. At some point in the song, Remington’s hand slid into her hair as he peppered her neck with kisses.

By the end, Jenni was panting. She spun around in Remington’s arms, pulling him down for a fierce kiss.

Remington returned the kiss with unbridled passion. His teeth nipped at her bottom lip as Jenni tried to press her closer to him.

The two were utterly consumed by their lust for each other. The world could end and they would pay it no mind.

Remington’s hand grabbed Jenni’s hair and yanked her head back roughly.

Jenni moaned as Remington attacked her neck, biting and sucking at the sweet spot under her ear.

Somehow they made it to the couch and Remington threw Jenni down on it. He knelt in front of her and helped her out of her shorts. He stroked her and placed kisses on her clit.

Jenni let out a soft moan as he slid two fingers into her.

Remington placed kisses on her thighs as his fingers moved in and out. At some point, Jenni’s hips started rocking into Remington’s hand. He found it incredibly hot how she was practically riding his fingers, chasing her release.

Her chest was rising and falling rapidly as she gripped the back of the couch.

He curled his fingers just so. The sharp gasp and shuddering breath told him he’d found that perfect spot. He lowered his mouth to her clit.

Jenni grabbed his dark hair. “Remington!”

Remington smirked. He loved hearing his name fall from her lips. His fingers started moving in and out of her faster as he worked her towards her climax. He knew she was close when she started clenching around his fingers.

Jenni came with a loud whine.

Remington placed a gentle kiss on her stomach, before standing up. Jenni pulled off her shirt and bra as Remington quickly shed his clothes.

Remington was about to crawl on top of her when he realized he didn’t have a condom. “I don’t have anything on me”, Remington told her.

“I don’t care. I want you inside me now”.

Remington felt shock wash over his body.

This would be the first time they’d had sex without a barrier.

Jenni had been in a relationship with Andy for well over a decade and they still had sex with a condom.

“Are you sure?” he asked her, “What if…?”

Jenni pressed her lips to Remington’s. “If it happens, then it happens”.

With that Remington slid into her, moans leaving both their mouths.

Jenni’s hands came up to rest on shoulders as he started to move.

His strokes started out slow.

Jenni’s back arched, thrusting her chest into the air.

Remington took this opportunity to shower her chest and nipples with kisses.

“Oh god, Remi”, Jenni moaned.

“Fuck”, he cursed, his thrusts slowly speeding up. Remington’s hand slid up and wrapped around her neck as he pounded into her.

It had been a while since Remington had been so rough with her, but Jenni loved it. Jenni moaned his name loudly as he hit that perfect spot inside her.

Remington grabbed her thigh and wrapped it around his waist, bringing her closer to him. Jenni let out a whine and Remington pressed his lips to hers, swallowing the divine sounds that fell from her mouth.

“Remi, I’m…”

“C’mon sweetness”.

Her fingernails dug into his shoulder blades as she held onto him for dear life. With a loud cry she fell apart around him, her nails dragging down his back.

The mix of pain and pleasure made Remington let out a yelp as slammed his hips into hers a final time. Remington’s head dropped to her chest as he panted. His hips rocked into hers gently as they worked through their climaxes. “I’m guessing you liked the song?” Remington asked her.

Jenni held Remington’s face in her hands as she kissed him. “Liked it? I fucking loved it”.

[remingt0nleith]

painted kisses • remington leith imagine • smut.

REQUESTED. Remington Leith smut • 2.2K • Imagine form -- the reader is a female as requested -- Reader accidentally calls Remington daddy while hanging with the boys, which causes him to get dominant & possessive. This leads to smut, smut, and more smut. daddy kink af, basically. Took me a little while to do this so I made it longer <3. Mature content warning!

The outfit & look for Remington... (dare I say this is the only inspo I needed for this). Story below cut as always. 

The boys were hollering and cheering as they made their way into the dressing room. They just finished the meet and greet which took place before the concert. The brothers carried armfuls of gifts from their amazing fans. All three had huge grins on their faces as they set their treasures on a table and began to sift through them. Emerson excitedly pointing out new drawing pads and pens while Sebastian wondered how fans managed to sneak in bottles of gin for him. Remington arranged his pile of Nutella, happily commenting on a Harley Quinn shirt he was given. It warmed your heart to see the boys so loved and appreciated because they damn well deserved it for the hard work they put into their craft.

After getting dressed in their outfits for the show, everyone had time to kill and decided to watch a movie and relax. The movie turned more into everyone being on their phones but you didn’t care as you were snuggled against Remington. Head resting on his shoulder, fingers threaded through his as you enjoyed his company and close proximity.

Rem nudged your head with his nose not wanting to move from his comfortable position.

“Baby, can you hand me my drink?”

You nodded, turning slightly to grab his soda from the table, passing it to him with a grin.

“Here, daddy” you mumbled.

Remington’s eyes darkened as he grabbed the drink from you, a chill enveloping you in response to your mistake. The boys didn’t seem to notice what happened but you knew Remington wouldn’t let you forget it.

Your boyfriend spent the next few minutes chatting with his brothers and Luis while simultaneously ignoring you, his body now rigid against yours letting you know the depths of your slip up.

“Fuck,” he grumbled. “I left my phone on the bus and I was supposed to check my emails before the show.”

“Just go to the bus and take care of it” Sebastian replied, eyes glued to his own phone.

“We have a bit of time before the show, anyway.”

“Good idea.”

Remi stood, holding his hand out to you, his gaze dark with a warning. You swallowed, taking his hand in your own as he led you to the tour bus.

Once inside he locked the door and turned to look at you his dark eyes swimming with a mix of lust and anger. Your skin felt hot with a combination of excitement and trepidation.

Remington’s fingers worked to undo the paisley tie which was fitted loosely around his neck. His white buttoned-down shirt half undone revealing his toned chest covered in tattoos.  A red bandana was tied around his arm, black leather pants clung expertly to his hips. Copper-colored eyes lined messily with black eyeliner, lipstick smudged over his plump lips, messily running down his chin.

You bit down on your lower lip as he stalked closer, red lipstick calling out to you -- begging to be smudged against your own. The heat from your skin spreading to your core.

You reached out to him, fingers barely grasping the thin material of his shirt before he pulled away, instead grabbing you by the waist and turning you so your back was to him.

“Remi” you whined, feeling his breath on the back of your neck.

Suddenly, his tie was against your eyes obstructing your vision, causing you to whimper in protest.

His lips pressed gentle kisses along the side of your neck, leaving behind streaks of red.

His sultry voice filling the small space of the bus as he led you to his bunk.

“What did I tell you about calling me daddy in front of other people?” He scolded, your knees hitting the side of the bunk before Remington helped you inside -- you laying flat on your back.

You reached out to touch your boyfriend, hands grasping for his built frame, pulling him close against you -- desperate for his touch even if it came from a place of faux anger.

“I’m waiting.” Remington practically growled, long fingers undoing your jeans, the cold metal of his rings brushing against your newly exposed skin.

Your reply drifted away against Remington’s lips as you kissed him feverishly, his hands worked to undress you, your own gripping the thin fabric of his shirt, fingers quickly working to shed him from his clothing -- leaving you both in your underwear.

Suddenly, Remington pulled away, instructing you to get onto your hands and knees, you quickly obliged, skin prickling with anticipation while you were left to guess his next movements.

The bus’ bunk was small not leaving much room between the two of you, it was often like a game of twister when you were trying to do anything in the confined space. Yet, when it came to anything sexual you enjoyed the closeness.

Remington’s warm mouth trailed wet kisses down your spine, slowly making his way downwards. The wetness from your core soaking the thin fabric of your panties as his fingers slowly made circles over your throbbing clit, your hips moving against his fingers, desperate for more while Remington gently bit down on your hip, sucking a purple mark over the flesh.

“More” you whined out, head dropping to the pillow.

Remington pulled away from marking the exposed skin of your hips and moved to your thigh, tongue lapping at the flesh -- too close to your heat but not close enough.

Your face stayed buried in the pillow as you fought back curses knowing well enough that his teasing was a form of payback for using that nickname earlier.

The singer loved seeing you so wet and desperate for his attention, his cock hard and straining against the tightness of his boxers. Peeling down your panties, Remington was met with your dripping cunt.

“So fucking wet for me.” He grumbled.

Leaning down he slid his tongue against your folds, lapping at your wetness causing you to moan out loudly against the pillow, hips bucking back desperately against his movements.

Your skin was streaked with the red lipstick Remington wore but by now it was completely smeared and faded, his mouth occupied with sucking gently at your clit.

The sensation caused your stomach to clench in anticipation as the bundle of nerves throbbed against your boyfriend’s wet tongue.

Your hair was matted and sweaty against both the pillow and the tie around your eyes, you moaned out loudly, gladly your cries of pleasure were being mumbled.

Just as your orgasm was about to peak, Remington pulled away leaving you on the edge but without release.

You turned your head to whine out in protest.

“Remington, fuck, please. Please, daddy.” 

You were practically trembling with the need for release as your boyfriend watched you. He loved seeing you like this -- so wet and spent for him. His thick cock twitching against the fabric of his boxers at the sight of you laid out like this.

He wrapped his hand around your long hair and gently pulled on it, knowing it was a turn on for you. His raspy voice filling the small bunk space,

“Think you deserve to come, baby girl?”

You whimpered out a response, barely audible.

Remington tsked again before leaving the small bunk to double check that the door was locked. He returned a moment later and snatched the tie away from your eyes, instructing you to get on your knees in the small hallway.

Your limbs felt like jelly but you obliged, Remington, helping you as your eyes adjusted to the dim light.

He took place in front of you -- your eyes greedily taking in his toned body covered in dark ink, eventually looking at the outline of his cock straining against his underwear.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and choke on daddy’s cock?”

He grumbled, fingers finding your hair again, painted nails tangling in the strands as you licked your lips and looked up innocently at him.

“Yes, daddy. Want you to fuck my mouth.”

You whimpered whilst he pulled the material down with his free hand, his hard length now visible.

You leaned forward and took the tip in your mouth, sucking gently on the sensitive skin. Remington moaned in pleasure, head against the wall while you took your turn teasing him. Just as much as you loved being pleased by him, you loved satisfying your boyfriend. 

You looked up at him to take in his smudged stage makeup, lips between his teeth as he desperately awaited your next move.

You opened your mouth to him, tongue moving against the underside of his cock before you took him in -- starting to bob your head in a steady rhythm. Remington groaned out in pleasure, fingers tightening in your hair.

“Fuck. Just like that, baby.”

You lived for his praise in moments like this, enjoying the sound of the lead singer’s moans as you took him farther in your mouth until you were basically choking on him.

Dark eyes opened to watch you, fingers gently brushing your hair from your face as you bobbed your head along his length.

Remington’s hand moved to the back of your head as he started to gently buck his hips, his hard cock hitting the back of your throat as you let him take control. Your warm mouth driving him closer to the edge as he fucked your mouth.

“Fuck... ‘m gonna cum.” He breathed out, eyes screwed shut in pleasure.

In response, you picked up the pace until the taste of his release flooded your mouth. You moaned in pleasure pulling away to swallow his load, looking up at him through your lashes as you licked your lips.

Remington’s toned chest rose and fell as he recovered from his orgasm, untangling his fingers from your hair he pulled you up to kiss your lips.

Both of you moaning in pleasure, the taste of his release fresh on your tongue.

Remington pulled away, nose brushing against yours as his hands found your hips.

“Please fuck me, daddy.” You whimpered, still needing release from earlier.

The sound of you so desperate for his touch caused Remington to get hard again, finally ready to let you give in to your orgasm.

In one swift motion, he had you pressed against the narrow wall -- wasting no time in sliding his hard length inside of your opening.

You immediately let out a cry of pleasured relief as he filled you to the brim.

He picked you up, you wrapping your legs around him as he began to steadily thrust causing you to become a writhing mess from the sensation.

Your lips crashing against his in a sloppy kiss that kept getting cut short by your moans of pleasure.

Your body began to tense, head dropping to Remington’s shoulder as you cried his name while he quickened his pace.

“Come for me, baby.” He grunted, voice rough with pleasure.

You bit down on his shoulder as your orgasm began to build up, stomach clenching as you chased your high, letting out a loud moan as you came -- body shuddering in pleasure. Remington moved one hand away from holding you up to gently rub your clit as you rode out your orgasm.

“Such a good girl for daddy.” He praised, loving the sight of you coming undone around him.

Once your orgasm was over, you rocked your hips against Remington’s to help him come -- his own release inside of you, causing him to mutter a string of curses.

The two of you stayed put for a few minutes, catching your breath, skin sticky from sweat.

Remi’s makeup messily smeared across his face, his lipstick now all over you instead of on him.

Setting you down gently after pulling out, he moved a hand through his now damp blonde hair, letting out a raspy laugh.

“God damn, baby.” 

He grinned, heading to the small tour bus’ bathroom to take a quick shower and get re-ready for the show.

You quickly dressed, checking your phone to realize he had 25 minutes before the show started. Emerson and Sebastian had probably caught on to your extended absence -- not daring to interrupt. An unspoken pact between them that as long as you made it to the show and didn’t leave the bus a mess, one could have privacy with their significant other if needed.

Remington emerged a few minutes later, hair back to it’s perfected spiky form and makeup reapplied including a fresh coat of red lipstick which covered his swollen lips.

You looked him over in appreciation, but before you could say anything he tugged you to the bus door.

As you two walked the short distance to the venue, you looked over at him with an innocent expression.

“I just wanted to say you looked good.”

You smiled wide, nudging him with a playful shove.

He just rolled his eyes and grinned at you, opening the venue door which led backstage.

“Mm, sure you did. But, I think I’ll look better with you sitting on my face tonight.”

He winked, leaving you in the doorway with a flustered expression.

xxx

[sleekervae]

You Look So Cool | Remington Leith x OC | The Robbery AU

Masterlist

A/N: wow, so this got really long and it took on a whole other life of its own. However, I haven't written action sequences in a long time and I'm proud of myself! I hope you all like it, don't forget to like, comment, reblog, whatever you feel like! And I'm super excited for the Debilitate video!

Warnings: guns, violence, swearing, some naughtiness but no smut

No one ever batted a second eye at the Hideaway Diner, a local truck-stop dive outside of Vegas that hosted a variety of curious and outlandish characters. The owner didn't really give a damn so long as his patrons paid their bills and no rough housing went about. The paint was peeling off of the walls, the wooden tables were chipped and worn down, and the end-to-end carpet could've used a good deep cleaning, nevertheless the mighty portions and enticing smell of crackling bacon was enough to leave every customer satisfied.

On a particularly sunny late morning, the diner was bustling with truck drivers and hitchhikers. Overworked and underpaid staff went about brewing pots of watery coffee and the kitchen staff were sweltering in the humid kitchen. There was indistinct chattering, retelling of stories and old men getting into debates over their bets for the next big football game. Nobody was paying attention to the young couple in a back booth, two half-eaten plates of hash and eggs sat cold between them.

Remington looked like every straggly, lanky weirdo you'd see on the side of town your mother would warn you not to visit. The people who didn't understand him would make assumptions, he's heard them all: drug addict, drug dealer, parolee, a deviant. Nevertheless, no one could deny how handsome he was, alluring in a dangerous classification that could spell trouble in the best way. The younger waitresses would always light up when he strolled in, instantly smitten with his sharp gaze and his charming smile.

He didn't have a lot to hold on to, just his car, the crucifix chain he kept around his neck, his two brothers, and of course he had his girl. Sitting opposite to him, Vera was a statuesque beauty with pixie-like features, and at first glance not many people would understand what such an innocent-looking girl was doing sitting across from Remington. But those same people making assumptions about Remington made poor ones for Vera, too. They couldn't possibly imagine what greatness the inconspicuous couple had to sit on.

Vera picked at her scrambled eggs absent-mindedly, taking bites between reading through the drawn plans Emerson had given them the night before. Remington had skimmed through them already, but he knew how prepared Vera liked to be for everything. He watched her curiously; the loose hair from her ponytail swinging across her face, how her eyes darted between Emerson's notes to the ones she made on the napkin, and her lips moved slow, chewing her food thoughtfully. They were all such simple things, but Remington couldn't deny watching Vera be in her own presence was a true privilege.

She looked up when she felt his eyes on her, dropping her pen and sitting back in the booth, "What?" she asked.

"Nothing," he shrugged back, his fingers inching across the table towards her free hand, "I just like watching you,"

"I'm not doing anything, though," she smiled at him skeptically.

"So what? You're pretty cool, anyway," he replied.

"I know," she teased back, "Maybe not as cool as you... but still,"

"We're gonna have to disagree on that," he simpered.

Vera didn't hesitate as he took her hand into his, giving her an affectionate squeeze. Even the simplest things he did, how he complimented and took care of her, Vera appreciated him so much. She had never met anybody like him. Underneath all his faults, Remington was truly nothing more than a dorky goofball.

"Well then, would you like to read your brother's blueprint so you can get on my level of cool?" she asked.

"I already read them," he replied simply.

"You barely glanced at them yesterday," she noted back.

"But I cased the place last week. I memorized every exit and noted all the shift changes in security," he reminded her.

"Sweetheart, all due respect, but you have the memory of a goldfish," she smirked.

"I do not!" he exclaimed, mocking offence, "I have a great memory!"

"Oh, really? What movie did we watch last week?" she asked.

Remington shrugged listlessly, he truly couldn't ever recall, "It was at the drive-in, right?"

"No, we were at home," Vera replied, "What about what I cooked for dinner Tuesday night?"

Again, Remington regretfully drew a blank, "You know, it was just so good I was more consumed with eating it than actually taking in what it was," he decided, trying to work his charm. Vera however had been around long enough to know when he was bullshitting her.

"Hmm. My point," she nodded victoriously.

"Hey, hey, hold on now," he interjected, "Those are just minor things. I remember all the big things,"

"Like what?" she asked.

Remington smiled coyly, "Like the red dress you wore for our first date; it had the white buttons going up the front and you had a black shirt on underneath," he recalled, "How about our first vacation together? We booked a ratty little BnB and the generator went out so we had no heat?"

Vera blushed, "And we had to find creative ways to keep warm. I remember," she chuckled.

"Not to mention our first heist together," he went on, "I was all nervous because it was your first one but you handled everything so fucking smoothly," there truly was no denying how proud he was that day, watching Vera take command of ten people so seamlessly and keeping them all in order while the guys took what they could from the bank safe.

Vera giggled some more, "Does it make a difference if I mention I was absolutely shitting myself and was just trying to impress you?"

"It worked!" he agreed, "And every time, you've done better and better,"

"Well, I did have a great teacher," she winked, "He's a pretty cool, guy,"

Remington slid out from his side of the booth and slide in next to her instead, looping his arm around her shoulders and Vera let her head rest on his chest, "Not as cool as you, V,"

Her eyes slipped shut as he kissed her head, a simple gesture but it made her heart flutter every time. No one had ever treated her as well as Remington did, and Vera didn't care if people didn't get it. He was her person, now and -- God willing -- forever.

However, their moment of bliss was interrupted as the waitress strolled over, a pot of sloshing coffee in her hand. Vera moved quickly to hide the evidence of what they were doing under her arm. The waitress, an older woman with greying raven hair, smiled at the couple.

"Well, aren't you two just adorable!" she drawled in a Carolina accent, "Can I offer you some more coffee?"

"That would be great," Remington smiled, pushing his coffee cup towards her, "Breakfast was excellent, as always,"

The waitress giggled merrily, "Oh, you're just the sweetest thing, hon," she then caught on to the blueprints under Vera's arm, "What're you two up to with them papers?"

Vera opened her mouth, her mind racing for a believable answer, but Remington beat her to it, "Oh these? They're plans for our new house," Vera looked at him skeptically. The waitress gasped in delight.

"Plans for a new house? You two are building a house?" she asked.

"Yeah," Vera nodded, quickly catching on, "We're just figuring out whether we have the space to put in a walk-in closet or a man cave?"

"You know which one gets my vote," Remington added.

"Well, good for you! That is excellent! I don't see a lot of young people these days taking the initiative like you two are. That is wonderful," she spoke as she topped up their coffee.

"Thank you," Vera grinned sweetly, covertly brushing her foot up Remington's leg. He did his best to bite back his smirk.

"Can I get you two anything else?" the waitress asked.

"Just the check would be great," Remington nodded.

"You got it," and she walked off back to the front.

Vera slumped in her chair, shaking her head as she began to put the plans away, "Okay. That was too close," she mumbled.

"C'mon, she didn't suspect a thing," Remington assured her.

"To be fair, we could rob this place right now and she wouldn't bat an eye," Remington chuckled as she went on, "But now the next time we come in, she's gonna be asking us about our house that we do not have," she replied.

Remington pulled her in closer, bringing his lips just over her ear, "Hey, depending on how this goes tonight, we can totally have that house,"

At that, Vera was intrigued, "To buy or to build?"

"How about both?" he suggested, "We could get a plot of land out in the country, build our dream house. My brothers wouldn't be around, either, just you and me,"

As much as Vera loved Emerson and Sebastian, having their own separate life to build sounded wonderful, "Sounds like heaven," she drawled, "Let's just not fuck up tonight,"

"We won't," he assured her, "We never do,"

She eyed him skeptically, "People who say 'never' always tend to get it in the end, Remi," she pointed out.

"Okay," he nodded, "How are you going into this, then?"

"With skewed optimism and a prayer to Jesus,"

Ambition was Sebastian's middle name -- or so he liked to think. However, when he saw the news of a diamond bid a year ago, he didn't bat an eye before he told his brothers of their new target. Emerson was skeptical at first; a great big convention centre in the heart of Las Vegas brimming with people of all walks of the economy, housing millions of dollars worth of diamonds. The money alone couldn't compare to the jewels and priceless accoutrements the crew could get away with. But the security was unparalleled to any bank they'd hit before. Nevertheless, the brothers, as well as Vera and their right-hand man, Andrew, had spent the past year preparing and planning for what would be the peak of their heist career.

The ultimate prize tonight was the Warhol Diamond necklace, worth a reported 11.5 million dollars. That should be more than enough for a house.

Of course, since this event was so upscale, it called for upscale tactics. They had to use some of the funds from previous jobs to score some invitations, and of course the invitation required them be dressed to the nines to get in. Of course, this was no problem for the crew, they always liked to dress it up a little on their jobs.

The evening came upon them quickly, and already the strip in front of the convention centre was packed with people. It would be so easy for any of them to slip away unscathed. The top of society was attending, limos and high-roller cars were lined up around the block while dashing men and extravagant woman stepped out, practically dripping in jewels. Remington licked his lips like a hungry predator.

"Did you have to wear the hat?" Sebastian grumbled at Emerson, who was dressed in a tailored red jacket and dark slacks. He had an antique top hat on his head, the brim lined in gold thread.

"I like the hat," Emerson grumbled, not very impressed with Sebastian's own velvet maroon suit, "You're the one wearing an ascot with an open-neck,"

"It draws less attention than a top hat," Sebastian pointed out. The brothers were hanging around in the lobby, shuffling through the herd of people who were oohing and awing at the gold-crusted, lavish Venetian decor. Everything oozed expensive, even the security guards at the metal detector appeared in bespoke tailored suits.

"Hey, c'mon. He likes it, just leave him alone," Remington grumbled back, dressed up in his own dark tartan suit.

Emerson was gawking around the halls, "They really beefed up security around this place. Are you sure about the shift change schedule?" he asked Remington.

"Of course I'm sure. We've been casing this place for a month," he assured, "Trust me, everything is under control,"

"It's all under control as long as V does her part," Sebastian whispered.

Remington smirked back at him, "You talk like she never pulls through," he said.

"I'm not saying she doesn't," Sebastian replied, "But it doesn't matter how many of these we do; there's always an outlier,"

"You were the one that wanted to hit this place," Emerson mumbled.

"Vera is gonna' be fine," Remington assured them, "She knows what she's doing. As long as Andrew's not late we'll be just fine,"

The boys got into the security line up, separately of course. They didn't want to draw attention as a group. One by one, they each went through the metal detector and a pat down, neither of them were flagged.

Meanwhile, Vera was already inside the party. She assimilated well into the crowd of philanthropists, politicians, and unabashed millionaires. She stood off from the bar while she waited for her drink, appearing lusciously priceless in a sleek, velvet black gown. It was a more expensive piece she bartered for, it made it so easy for her to slip into the persona of someone she could only dream to be.

She thanked the bartender for her whiskey soda and she wandered around the venue, meeting eyes with inconspicuous guests. Everyone was gathered around an empty stage front, awaiting when the bidding would start for the extravagant variety of jewelry pieces. Where would the money gathered be going? Well, the front man, Alister Warhol, announced that a percentage of the proceeds would be going off to benefit various charities. The only thing he neglected to mention was he was keeping over 90% of the proceeds for himself, as most philanthropists did.

With most of the guests distracted, she stopped to bend down in front of one of the vent grates. Attached to her garter belt were five canisters, each the size of a large fingernail. Vera had distributed the other four already, having slipped them into the vent grates. Making like she was adjusting the strap of her shoe, she was about to slip the last canister inside when she heard a throat grumble from above her.

Vera looked up, coming face-to-face with an older, distinguished gentleman. He was slender, his stark cheekbones protruding harshly through his skin, and his sunken eyes made him appear older than he appeared. He nursed his own champagne flute, and he smelled as though he'd enjoyed a few beforehand.

"Hello," he drawled, looking her up and down.

Vera strapped an alluring smile to her face, "Hello,"

"I'm sorry if I startled you, but I noticed you from the bar," he said, "You are absolutely stunning,"

"Why thank you," Vera smiled back, "Are you a bidder, tonight?"

He chuckled blithely, "Not exactly. I'm an acquirer for Mr. Warhol,"

Vera raised a brow, "Ah, so these pieces have come from your collection?" she asked.

"Some are mine, some are from other generous cohorts, some have been sold off to Warhol to pay off debts," he replied.

"I imagine I wouldn't want to be the person to owe Mr. Warhol money," she said.

"Absolutely not," he then took her hand in his, "The name's Redmond. Redmond Barrymore," and he kissed her knuckle.

Vera swallowed back her distaste, "Sophia Blackwell," her public cover name.

"Sophia Blackwell..." Redmond drawled, his expression furrowing, "... Oh, yes. I recall seeing your name on the guest list,"

Vera hummed, "I thought you were just Mr. Warhol's acquirer, Mr. Barrymore?"

He chuckled heavily, brimming with the bravado of a man with enough secrets to eradicate every person in this room, "Well, I like to have a handle on who may be bidding on my diamonds,"

Across the room, the brothers had finally entered the major ensuite. Remington immediately accepted a martini from one of the passing serving staff, scanning the room for their target. And there it was, the Warhol Necklace on full display in bullet proof glass, shelved on a high platform and out of reach for any person of general stature. Of course, it was surrounded by a handful of security guards.

"God, it's beautiful," Remington awed, "All 11.5 million of it,"

"We could make out pretty well with some of the pieces on these guests, too," Emerson added, looking around at the crowd.

"Remember, we have to stay focused," Sebastian reminded them, "Where's Vera?"

"I'll find her," Remington nodded, "You remember where we put the bag?"

"Yeah, I'll get it," Sebastian nodded, "We'll meet at the south-east corner in twenty minutes," and he ducked out of the crowd.

"I'm gonna' get a drink," Emerson decided before he too took off.

Remington sipped his martini meanwhile, his dark brown eyes skimming for faces and the odd Tiffany or Rolex he could knick away with. In the next pass he locked on Vera, her exquisite appearance accentuated against the shimmering gold and marble fixtures, not to mention the peak of her long leg beneath the high slit in her dress was so sexy. Remington had so many ideas of what he could do to her in that dress... if only that old man chatting her up wasn't ruining his picture.

He finished the martini promptly and placed it on a discard tray, making his way through the crowd and towards his girl. Vera meanwhile made her attempts to leave, though Redmond wasn't ready to let her go.

"Why don't you join me at my table?" he offered, "We're having dinner courtesy of Wolfgang Puck,"

Vera smiled politely, "That's very kind of you to offer, Mr. Barrymore, but I'm afraid I already have a table tonight," she replied in kind.

"Oh? With whom?"

"With me," Remington appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and Vera was relieved. Redmond looked him up and down, a little more critically than he had with Vera.

"Ah. And you would be...?"

"Aldous Blackwell, sir," Remington shook his hand, "Of the Toronto Blackwells,"

Redmond nodded slowly, "I see. I haven't seen you around here," he replied skeptically.

"I was kept late at an important business meeting, so I sent my wife ahead," Remington explained.

"And... what business do you run, Mr. Blackwell?" he asked.

Vera linked her arm with Remington, "The type that could afford him over half of Alister Warhol's diamond collection," she said. Remington squeezed her hand, never breaking his gaze with Redmond Barrymore.

"Very well, then," Redmond nodded, "I wish you luck in the bidding. As for you, Mrs. Blackwell," he took Vera's hand again and planted another kiss on her knuckle. Remington felt his blood pressure flare, though he kept his composure without a flinch, "It was a pleasure,"

"The pleasure was mine," she tried not to sneer as he walked away. She squirmed on the spot and rubbed her soaked knuckle on her hip, "God, what took you long?" she whispered to Remington.

"I couldn't help it," Remington ushered her through the crowd and towards the back hallway, "They got into it over accessories,"

"Well, they sure picked a time. If it wasn't for you, that creep would've suckered me into sitting for a dinner by Wolfgang Puck," she scoffed back, not thinking as Remington ushered her away from the crowd and into a dark, quieter hallway, "Not that I'd complain about the latter part,"

"I think with this, we could buy us a set meal from Mr. Puck's restaurant," before her eyes, Remington held up Barrymore's Panerai watch.

Vera wasn't shocked per say, though more or less impressed at his speed, "When did you take that?"

In a sharp instant, Remington had her backed into the corner, the watch shoved deep into his pocket, "While he was slobbering all over your hand,"

Remington stepped impossibly closer and pushed her legs apart with his knee. Vera's gasp was swallowed by his mouth engulfing hers, lips and teeth smacking in a rough, passionate kiss. She squeezed her legs around his, fingers threading through his hair as he moved to nip at her neck, his hand coming up to wrap around her throat. She had to bite her lip as he marked her, the rush of adrenaline and carnal tension shivering through her body, every touch of was electrifying and excitement bubbled beneath her skin.

“Remington,” she breathed, trying her best not to smirk as his dark expression, "Did it really bother you seeing the old man so close to me?"

He chuckled suddenly, though she knew it wasn't from amusement. His hand left her throat, slipping down the silky material of her dress until he reached the slit of her dress. His hand slipped up, caressing the inner part of her thigh, his eyes never leaving hers and his smirk widened.

"You belong to me," he mumbled, the intensity of his stare so dark and sharp, "You're all mine, and anybody who tries me will fucking regret it," he did not hesitate before pressing his lips firmly against hers, a desperate attempt to feel more of her. Vera looped her arms around Remington's neck and threaded her fingers within his soft locks, tugging it, smirking against his lips in satisfaction once he hissed at the action.

He swiped his tongue against her lower lip and pushed his tongue inside her mouth, deepening the kiss. With his other hand, he jerked her hips closer to his and pushed his hips against her, she moaned at the sensation of him rubbing against her. He emitted a low groan, his eyes clouded with pure desire as he pulled away from her lips in order to trail kisses down her throat. Oh, if only they had the time, the privacy, she would wrap her legs around his waist and let him take her against the wall right now, the crowd be damned.

"Are you for real?" their moment was slighted by Emerson, standing at the mouth of the hall, his unimpressed glower lit dimly in the shadows. Remington groaned, pulling away from his girl to face his brother, "You guys are like God damn rabbits; can you wait at least until we leave the premises?"

Vera couldn't help but laugh, the brothers equal annoyance with each other a nice breather for her.

"Alright, c'mon then. Let's go find Seb," she patted the lapel of Remington's jacket and walked off, all the while he stared a hole into his cock-blocking little brother.

"Five minutes," he grumbled at him, "You couldn't have let me have five fucking minutes?"

Emerson shrugged, not bothering to hide the shit-eating grin on his face, "You forget your room is right next to mine. You take way more than just five minutes," he smirked.

"Oh, fuck off," and he brushed right past Emerson.

Sure enough, twenty minutes had past. Bids were called, alcohol was consumed, and the diamonds glittered so deliciously under the chandelier display. No one was the wiser to the crew crouched down behind the stage, the dapper looking group having switched out their classy shoes and heels for treaded sneakers, and each of them slipped a gas mask over their head. Sebastian kept checking his watch, it was almost time for the canisters to go off.

"Are we all ready?" he asked.

Remington nodded as he checked his phone, "Andrew's ready and waiting downstairs," he reported.

"And the canisters should be going off in five minutes," Emerson added.

At the mention, Vera's face changed. A sharp fear ripped through her as she realized she never finished her assignment, "Fuck!"

"What?" the boys turned to her, praying her exclamation wasn't anything bad.

"I forgot one," she whispered, reaching under her skirt.

"Forgot one what?" Sebastian asked nervously. They were stunned in silence as Vera pulled out the last canister from her garter.

"Fuck," Emerson covered his mouth.

Sebastian glowered at her, "How could you forget?!" he snapped.

"I didn't mean to! I'm so sorry!" she gaped.

"It's not her fault," Remington cut in, "She was almost caught by Warhol's collector,"

"And yet you wanted five minutes," Emerson snickered at him, slipping his mask over his now hat-free head.

"Shut up!" Remington snapped at him.

"Five minutes? Five minutes for what?" Sebastian asked.

"Nothing!" Vera replied swiftly, "You guys go ahead, I'll slip the last one in the vent real quick," she pulled her mask off and hid it behind her back.

"You're gonna' go out there without your mask?" Sebastian queried.

Vera started for the curtain, "I'll make it. Security just hit shift change," and she disappeared around the velvet material.

"Is she serious? Fuck," Sebastian kicked at the wall.

"She's right, though. She'll be fine," Remington assured, slipping his gas mask over his head, "Let's move,"

Sure enough, the security was switching to the late shift, leaving just a few crucial minutes for the boys to take the stage. Sebastian was swift to subdue the first guard and Remington hopped onto the platform. The auctioneer was more than confused as he turned mid-bid of another diamond piece, coming nose-to-nose with a stranger in a gas mask. Remington knocked him upside the head with his own microphone, taking the stage to address the astounded crowd. Gasps and screams of horror bounced off the marble-slated walls.

"Ladies and gentleman!" he announced, his voice muffled by the mask, "Please, we ask you to remain calm! You are not in danger! However, in case it wasn't clear: this is a robbery!"

Vera meanwhile was slipping through the crowd, the gas canister clutched tightly in her fist as she ran for the last vent. She heard it begin to sizzle and it burned against her skin. In the chaos of the mess however, she was suddenly slammed by another body. The impact threw her to the side and the canister went flying. It was long gone by the time Vera realized what had happened, and she was sure to catch shit for it later. Nevertheless, the canisters were beginning to release the gas from within them and she needed to get her mask on fast.

Some people tried to run for the door, though they found they had been locked in. It was all thanks to Andrew and his quick skills with heavy chains wrapped around the handles from the outside. The sleeping gas began to fill the room, no one would be getting out.

"We're not here to hurt you! In just a few minutes, you're all gonna' feel the most relaxed you've ever been," Remington called out. And sure enough, the gas had begun to take effect. The echoing of coughing, sputtering, and gasping bounced across the walls and bodies began to slump. It wasn't just the guests within the hall, the gas traversed through the vents, reaching the security wing above them, as well as the kitchen below. No one within the immediate vicinity would be able to call for help. Sebastian was holding some taken aback guards at gun point while Emerson was tying them up with duct tape.

"Hey you!" Remington glanced down towards a brave security guard, aiming at the younger boy with his gun, "You get the hell down from there, right now!" he shouted angrily.

Remington, ever so the one to tempt fate, stepped out from behind the podium, his arms raised in an open target. He was goading the guard to shoot him, revelling in the chaos, the panic, and the thudding of bodies beginning to hit the floor.

"You talking to me?" he chided. The guard coughed, trying to cover his mouth and nose with his jacket lapel, and he fought diligently through the gas.

"Yes! Now, I won't tell you again!" he exclaimed. He was none the wiser to the striking young woman coming up from behind him, the bottle of champagne in her hand she used to crack him upside the head. He went down hard and fast, his gun flying off to the side.

Vera stared up, annoyed with her showman boyfriend, "Really?" she groaned at him.

"Hey! You love my theatrics!" he replied, pulling her up on the stage.

"Not when you're goading a loaded gunman into shooting you," Vera rolled her eyes, watching as the last few groups of people began to succumb to the sleeping gas. It was truly a marvel to behold, the room that was bustling with excitement not ten minutes ago was wilted and weak, struggling for air like plants in a drowsy, dark room.

"I saw you coming, anyway," Remington assured her, "Did you get rid of the canister?"

Vera inhaled sharply, "Kind of,"

"What does that mean?" he popped a brow.

"... I might have lost it," she admitted sheepishly, fear flashing through the eyeholes of her mask.

"What do you mean you lost it?"

"I got knocked into one guy who knocked me into another guy and it's out there somewhere!" she pointed to the sea of bodies.

Remington peered out in shock and dismay, scanning as though he could magically spot the canister in the mess. He had a sinking feeling in his gut.

"And which vent were you supposed to put it in?" he asked tentatively.

Vera shook her head, self-resentment and disappointment settling in her chest, "... The one that leads to the security office,"

"Shit," Remington turned to the plethora of diamonds, calculating as their estimated time was now cut by half. Surely, security would be down within minutes, and it wouldn't take them long to cut the chains off the doors.

"Sebastian's gonna' kill me this time," Vera shook her head, "I fucked up, I fucked up real bad --"

"Hey! It's okay," Remington took her by her shoulders, "Listen, you tried. Shit happens,"

"But Remington --"

"But nothing, Vera! We'll be fine! I'll handle Sebastian, you start on the codes for the cases. Let's just get what we can,"

Remington directed Vera to start getting the diamond cases open. Emerson went to help her while Sebastian kept watch over the guards. Remington wandered over to him sheepishly, knowing fully well he was going to be pissed.

"Don't be angry," he muttered to him.

Sebastian eyed his younger brother cautiously, "... Why should I be angry?" he asked.

"Our time was just slashed in half," he admitted. Sebastian gawked at him, his furious expression maximized by his mask.

"Okay, I'm angry. What happened?" he asked.

"It's not important right now,"

"Remington --"

"Don't argue with me right now, please? It was one slip up," he pleaded. Hell, Sebastian of all people had to know nothing was perfect, not even circumstance. Remington just prayed that they could get away with enough bounty to calm him down later.

Sebastian was at a loss for words, staring back and forth between him and the diamond cases. He decided quickly; if they only had half the time then they had to go for the most valuable pieces. He immediately looked up to the Warhol necklace, still perched on its high platform.

"Alright. You scale the platform and get the Warhol. We'll take it and whatever else these guys can get, and we go," Sebastian decided.

"Deal," like a bat out of hell, Remington began to climb the stage set up, clinging to the bars like a howler monkey in the jungle. He had had enough practice that every move was a calculated piece of cake. The Warhol diamond was just within reach.

He jumped for the platform, clinging tightly to the shelf as he shoved at the glass case, moving it until it just teetered off the edge.

"Hey sweetheart!" he called down, garnering his girl's attention, "Here's our house! Heads up!" and the case plummeted down into Sebastian's arms. Emerson and Vera meanwhile had broken out a few key valuable pieces, definitely enough to warrant Remington and Vera their own property and then some.

However, the true crown jewel of the collection was the Warhol Diamond Necklace; a custom waterfall design with stardust African diamonds, ordered by Alister Warhol himself. The rumour around town was he'd had it especially made for the woman he wanted to marry, the only woman in the world who had supposedly rejected him and his high-class attempts.

"Emerson! C'mere!" the youngest brother discarded the last case he had in favour for the big one. He was an expert at cracking codes, give him any safe in the world and he could have it open within minutes. Time of course was not a luxury they could spare.

"What house is he talking about?" he asked.

"I don't know," Sebastian shook his head, "They're at the stage where they wanna' start playing house,"

"Ew. Gross," Emerson chuckled, working as quickly as he could to unlock the case.

"I heard that!" Remington called, still hanging from the rafter. Vera laughed to herself, working quickly to pack what few pieces they had into the duffel.

"Don't be upset, honey. They're just jealous," Vera teased.

"Oh, you wish," Sebastian simpered.

It was painstaking process, and every second they spared was another second authorities had to gain on them. However, Emerson heard the last click of the combination lock and the lid snapped open. With glazed eyes, he pulled out the million dollar masterpiece, truly feeling as though he had grasped the Golden Idol.

"God, she's beautiful!" he mired.

"All 11.5 million of her," Sebastian agreed, swinging around to Vera, "That's buy each of us a house and then some,"

"Hell yeah it will!" Remington leapt down onto the stage with a hard thud, though he walked away unscathed, "I can see it now: large open yard, rock wall faces, Italian fixtures --"

"How about a pool?" Vera suggested.

"Dream house needs a dream pool," Emerson agreed, slipping the necklace into their bag.

Remington chuckled, "And a big pool we can light up at night so we can --" however, he was cut short when a sharp bang rang out through the air, and a crippling pain in his torso followed. Remington fell to the ground to the horror of his crew, Vera and Emerson dropped what they were doing and rushed to him.

"Remington! Oh my God!" they quickly turned him onto his back. Remington was still alive, he was sure of that as he saw the gruesome fear rippling through his brother and his girlfriend, and his body felt as though it was burning from the inside out. He had been shot.

Sebastian meanwhile turned out to the crowd, finding himself in a gun draw with Redmond Barrymore. The older gentleman's gun was still smoking from his fire. He wheezed heavily, keeping himself upright on the table with shaky limbs. It wouldn't have taken much to take him out if not for the nine millimetre he had aimed for Sebastian's head. He grunted through the gas, his willpower seemingly stronger than the gas.

"You put my diamonds back! Or you're next!" he sneered.

"How in the fuck..." Sebastian drawled.

Redmond chuckled darkly, "What's the matter, son? You didn't expect to see an old man come back from the dead? You don't work for Mr. Warhol without having some special tricks of your own," he reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like an epipen at first glance. Whatever was in that needle was a counteract to the sleeping gas, an insurance policy should an occasion as this arrive.

"We don't want to hurt you," Sebastian assured him, "We're just gonna take our loot and go. You'll never hear from us again,"

The older gentleman was in hysterics, "Really? You're quite brave for a man with no options, sir! You're down a man with no escape route because the security will be busting through those doors any minute!" he roared, "I commend your efforts though, the gas masks are a nice touch!"

Remington was gasping for a deep breath under his mask but he knew he couldn't remove it. The air was still too thick. Emerson had to hold him down while Vera ripped off part of the curtain, trying to clot the pack the wound so he bleed out. In his haze of pain and uncertainty, Remington focused on the giant chandelier. Thousands of crystals glinted and twinkled, giving him a brilliant yet crazy idea.

"The chandelier --" he sputtered, "The chandelier!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. It's pretty," Emerson grumbled.

"No! The chandelier!" Remington snapped at him.

"What about it?!"

"Use it!"

"What?"

Vera faced up to the ceiling, almost being blinded by the chandelier and its many glinting, sharp crystals. There was a cable holding the entire structure up; and it hung smack over Redmond Barrymore. If only she had something to cut the cable, they could make a clean get away. It was then she remembered the guards carried their own guns.

She raced over to the group of large men, each of them still out cold as she felt around for a gun. She found the perfect line of trajectory behind the stage, aiming at the guesstimated angle she prayed would make quick work for their escape.

Sebastian froze as another gun shot rang out, but it wasn't from his nor was it from Redmond's. He heard a distinct tinkling, jewels clanging together above his head. The cable holding the chandelier up was sizzling, and he caught wind of what was about to happen. He took a cautious step back.

"You know, I believe things are looking up for us," he noted. Redmond glanced up to the vibrating chandelier, just as another shot rang out. He leapt out of the way just as the chandelier plummeted to the ground, sending thousands of crystals smashing and flying everywhere, electrical sparks raining down from the cable.

The brothers didn't have time to take cover, they made quick work to get Remington to his feet. Vera took the gun with her and grabbed the duffel bag while Emerson had the bag with their stuff.

Redmond hadn't gotten away from the crash unscathed, his leg was pinned down by a metal rod, effectively shattering his shin bone. He cried out in pain and in anger, lashing out as the crew headed for their escape route. He roared like a lion who had missed his dinner, rage flaring through his body as he called, "Who the fuck are you people!?"

The crew stopped, turning back to Redmond with a great smugness hidden under their masks. Remington gathered his wits enough to taunt him back with a sassy remark, "Us? We're The fucking Bastards,"

A loud banging thundered from the doors, and they knew their time was up. Vera and Emerson lead the way while Sebastian hobbled along with Remington, all the while the middle brother kept pressing the curtain tightly into his wound. It hurt like hell, but it was nothing compared to what being caught would feel like.

They cut through the kitchen, a mess of passed out staff, bubbling pots and burning pans. The smell was distinguishable of just burnt, burnt flakey char that nobody would eat. The service elevator was in the back and they all piled in, just as a flood of footsteps entered the kitchen. They had a second to relax.

"Well, that was fun," Emerson puffed.

"Yeah," Sebastian turned to Vera, "Nice thinking with the chandelier,"

Vera shrugged, "It was all your brother's plan," she replied simply.

"Do we have everything?" Remington groaned.

"Not like we can go back," Emerson replied.

"I just hope Andrew's ready," Sebastian shook his head.

"What's he driving?" Vera asked.

The boys looked between each other, realization hitting that they never asked what vehicle Andrew was going to be in. Vera stared dumbfounded between them.

"He didn't tell you what he was driving?" she asked in disbelief.

"We were running late, we just trusted him," Emerson replied.

"It's okay," Remington assured, "Andrew always pulls through,"

The elevator dinged to the basement level and the giant doors swung open. Much to their luck, security hadn't reached the basement yet. They quickly shuffled out, looking around for any sign of Andrew. It was then Emerson found the obscure looking ambulance in the sea of high-end cars, and sure enough, Andrew and his wild head of hair were sitting upfront, his own gas mask covering his face.

"I found him!" he pointed to the ambulance.

"Huh, fitting," Remington chuckled.

Andrew looked up from his round of candy crush and spotted them immediately. He started the truck before Sebastian could wave him down and pulled out in front of them. Sebastian ripped the back doors open and they all clamoured inside. Remington slumped to the floor.

"We all good?" Andrew called them.

Sebastian took the seat beside him, nodding and panting heavily, "Yeah. Drive,"

Andrew however had focused on Remington and the pool of blood staining his shirt, "What happened to him?"

"Just drive!" Sebastian snapped.

Andrew didn't need to be told again, he peeled out of the delivery truck exit and onto traffic. Police cars whizzed by them meanwhile, all stopping at the convention centre. Vera watched out the back window with bated breath, finally relaxing when she saw they were safe.

"We're clear," she announced, and they all pulled off their masks.

The fresh air was a welcome reward for their strife, that and the bag full of diamond trinkets and other jewelry pieces the crew pocketed. They drove unscathed out of the city, the flashing lights of the Vegas strip quickly dissipated into blacked out desert. Some lights flared from homes in the distance, the further they drove the less there was around. Remington stayed slumped on the ground, breathing slowly through his pain whilst he gripped tightly to Vera's hand. She cleaned his wound as much as she could, more of the dirty work would have to be done at home. When they hit a particular checkpoint they had to switch vehicles, Andrew already had a camper van waiting and left the ambulance behind.

After thirty minutes of driving through seemingly nowhere, they turned into an obscure bungalow neighbourhood. It was a lower middle class community where nobody asked questions and everybody usually kept to themselves. The camper van pulled into their home, and the engine hadn't even been cut before the back door flew open and Emerson and Vera helped Remington inside. Sebastian and Andrew meanwhile took charge of unloading their loot.

Remington groaned as he fell into the bathtub, turning over to rip his shirt off. Vera began soaking rags in disinfectant, beside her a hastily thrown together medical kit. It wasn't much, but the tools she had were enough to patch her boys up when necessary.

A half-drunk bottle of whiskey sat on the rim, and Remington swigged it plentifully to numb the pain he knew was coming. Vera's hand were already a sticky mess of blood from the centre and she scrubbed hard to get herself clean.

"I thought he'd killed you," she rattled off, "I didn't know he had a gun, I should've known. He's a diamond collector of fuck sakes --"

"Vera. Vera!" he called, "Sweetheart, we got away scot-free,"

She fell to sit on the rim of the tub, staring at the open wound in his skin with marred distain, "But you got hurt, anyway," she huffed.

"We knew what we were signing up for," he assured her, taking her hand, "You did so fucking well tonight,"

"I fucked up, Remington," she sighed, "We could've gotten more than double what we made away with,"

"And it's enough. Vera, I don't care what we take or what happens to me, I just need you to be okay," he replied, searching for a depth of sparkle in her eyes, "Are you okay?"

She inhaled deeply. She couldn't lie that she had been rattled, and it was surely just a fluke of luck that she had shot down that chandelier so skillfully. She hadn't done her job properly and yet Remington was still so concerned for her. She couldn't imagine how she could even begin to repay him for his love. But then that was it: love wasn't supposed to be something transactional, it was a deep connection and profound fondness for one another. Remington wasn't just her partner in crime, he was her partner for life.

"I'm okay," she nodded, staring wistfully at the rags on the sink counter, "You're probably not gonna' like me in a few minutes," she warned.

"Impossible," he smiled, "You're so fucking cool,"

Vera blushed, supporting herself on the rim and wall of the bath and leaning in to brush her lips against hiss, but was interrupted when their foreheads bumped together, making them both giggle and the tension faded away.

She kissed him sweetly, muttering softly under her breath, "I love you,"

"I love you, too," he sat back in the tub, bracing himself for the stinging pain of retrieval and cleaning. He'd done it before, but every time it never got easier.

Vera took her own swig of the whiskey bottle, holding it out for him, "Drink," she ordered. He obliged her happily, his eyes stayed glued to hers.

Vera sighed as he handed her back the bottle, making a silent apology, "Good, now bite your tongue," and she poured the alcohol over his wound.

The boys couldn't help but tense up when they heard Remington shouting from the bathroom, a position neither of them envied him for. He would bitch and complain for about twenty minutes, grovel about his pain for a day, but he would be back to normal in no time. It was all worth it anyhow as Emerson held up the Warhol necklace, every individual diamond sparkled in the low light. No matter how many hitches they hit in their job tonight, The Bastards were successful in what they'd come for.