#and everyone is wary of him...but why....

[demonic0angel]

DC x DP prompt: Zeus is a dick, as is most of the Greek pantheon. As such, Cassie Sandsmark is looking for a new patron god. Dani hears this, and introduces her to Danny, the Ghost King and new god like being.

(I haven't finished reading through the Young Justice run, so I actually don't know too much yet. So just beware that this will probably be incorrect.)

Cassie snarled as she straddled the dummy to beat it with her fists. From a distance, the rest of the Young Justice looked at her with various amounts of wariness and worry. Dani leaned close to Kon.

“What’s going on?” She whispered.

Tim was the one who answered, “Cassie’s powers are disappearing. Something with Zeus? I’m a bit more worried about her raging though. She’s going to hurt herself at this rate.”

Dani nodded and shared a look with the other girls, who also gave her a look. Then they all stepped forward, leaving the boys behind to share a sigh of relief.

They approached Cassie carefully, who was panting and winding down from her brutal beat down on the practice dummy.

“Hey, Cassie,” Cissie began. “Wanna talk about it?”

Greta and Dani both helped Cassie up and while Greta patted her back comfortingly, Dani put away the dummy. Cassie scowled, but then her expression changed into something more sad. “My powers are leaving. I just— I just want to know why! I thought that they wouldn’t leave me no matter what…”

Dani perked up. “Wait, you need another patron god?”

Cassie nodded but then she paused, alongside Greta and Cissie. “Wait… do you know someone?”

Dani beamed. She nodded and flew forward to hold Cassie’s hand. “Yes! He’s new to being a god, but I can promise that he’s powerful and he won’t abandon you! I can promise you 100%!”

Cassie looked hopeful for the first time. She looked down, thinking to herself as she muttered, “I only wanted Wonder Woman and Wonder Girl to be proud of me…” She looked up at Dani. “Who is he?”

Dani grinned. “He’s a death god, but he only came to power a few months ago. He rules over the domain of death and everyone who is dead or will be dead. Also space.”

Cassie hesitated. “Death…? I’m not sure if I’m comfortable with that.”

Dani clenched her hand gently. “I promise that he won’t make you kill. He’s the god of death, so he only helps ferry the dead souls to the afterlife. He’s more like… Hades, if that makes sense. He was a hero himself in our world.”

Cassie brightened. “I’d like to meet him! Who is he?”

Dani grinned. Her eyes were sparkling from excitement. “He’s my brother.”

[aennasan]

Hybrid Sanctuary AU where avian crow hybrid Johnny is so enamored by you that in your eyes he is more like a puppy than a bird. When he was rescued, his kind was already deemed extinct, until you were brought in and rescued from a mansion which collects exotic hybrids.

At first, he was so surprised by your presence that he did nothing the whole day but stare at you. It was your fault because you got lost and it was too late before you realized your mistake. You went inside his nest, your awareness has been dulled after years of being chained down. You were so scared that all you could do was crouch down as he tower in front of you, waiting for him to kill you for ruining his nest.

But nothing happened.

When the rescuers can't find you, they started frantically looking for you, and almost fainted when they saw you inside Johnny's nest. Alone, scared, and shaking in fear.

They were able to save you from him and they brought you back peacefully in your place. Later you found out that Johnny was known to be unpredictable and deadly. That's why he was in solitary for years now. No one could explain how come you got lost in a cage that was supposed to be inaccessible by another avian without permission.

Although whatever happened has been scary to everyone, especially to the doctors who have been taking care of you, they somehow deemed that maybe being around you would make Johnny less intimidating. And so your cages were moved side by side with each other, with only the glass wall separating you.

You were fully convinced it was a bad idea. You were wary of him and the thing he may do. Until you were always woken up each morning with him tapping on the glass, leaving behind gifts, placed at the side of the glass wall where you can see it first thing in the morning. He would even bring you his meals. Gets frustrated when he realized that the rescuers will not allow him in your space. But ended up with a solution anyway as he decided to eat up his meals at the same time as you eat yours. Making sure that you are looking at him before he munches and tells you it tastes good. He would even try to talk to you but all you did was stare at him, still wary about being in the presence of a male.

The behaviour that started as odd to you, has become a habit. You are not as scared of him as before but still there is fear. You started to learn to be comfortable around him but maybe it was just a calm before a storm.

The alarm blared as it signals the emergency. Metal bars started replacing the friendly glass walls and all you can do is walk away from them, as you look around, shaking, and trying to understand what's going on. The intercom keeps repeating the same thing, "Abandon the facility now!" and your brain who wasn't taught enough words may not understand what was being said, still felt danger, and in panic, you ran away.

You don't know where you at. You don't know what happened. You didn't see any hybrids running away except you. So you were alone as you made a temporary shelter at a cave, behind a waterfall. You were so tired that the moment your head was placed in something comfortable, you slept, the water sound was soothing and you finally were able to get a shut eye.

It was the feeling of warmth that woke you. A hand draped on your waist, tightening when you whined about the feeling of being too hot. Your mind was still drowsy from sleep, but all your senses snapped open when a familiar thick voice warned you to stop grinding your ass on his cock.

You try to push him away, claw at his arms, almost gauge his eyes out but he only pouts and whimpers at your efforts to remove his hold on you.

You don't understand and cannot comprehend how Johnny found you and even slept beside you without you noticing. It was as if he followed you. Then something clicks and you froze when the realization hits you.

How did you run away in the first place without the facility finding where you are? Also, this whole thing is familiar. It was as if the reenactment of how you got lost in his nest when there is no way you could be lost there.

[ficxworm]

A Different Kind of Medicine

Pairings: Wilson x House

Tags: supportive Wilson, House’s Vicodin addiction, implied romantic feelings

Dr. Gregory House, MD, was, if nothing else, predictable in his unpredictability. To everyone around him, he was a brilliant diagnostician whose addiction to painkillers was as legendary as his ego. Dr. James Wilson, his best—and often only—friend, had long ago accepted that House was his own worst enemy. But tonight, for the first time, Wilson saw a glimmer of willingness in House’s eyes—a willingness to try.

“You’re serious about this?” Wilson asked, skepticism coating every syllable.

House rolled his eyes, adjusting himself on Wilson’s worn leather couch with a wince. His leg was already aching. “Don’t look so excited, Jimmy. Yes, I’m serious. For now. That’s as much as you’re getting out of me.”

Wilson nodded, his expression softening. He wanted to reach out, offer some kind of reassurance, but knew better. Instead, he kept it simple. “Then let’s start small.”

For the first time in his life, House let someone take his stash. He handed over the orange prescription bottle to Wilson, who tucked it away with a wary glance, half-expecting House to snatch it back. But House didn’t. He just sighed, his fingers drumming against his thigh, betraying his restlessness.

The first few days were the hardest. The withdrawal symptoms crept up like a slow burn, insidious and relentless. The pain was one thing, but the itch, the craving—the need for Vicodin felt like it was tearing him apart from the inside out. House threw himself into work, trying to drown out the pain with puzzles and patients, but it was never enough.

Wilson was there through all of it. He spent every break checking on House, convincing him to come over after work, even making dinner a few times. At first, the effort was awkward. Wilson wasn’t used to this kind of care, and House wasn’t used to receiving it. There were moments of sharp tension, glances that lingered a little too long. And there were the times Wilson’s hand brushed House’s, lingering for just a second before pulling back.

After a week, House was sitting at Wilson’s kitchen table, staring at a plate of cold spaghetti. He’d been quiet all evening, staring off into the middle distance.

“Maybe this was a mistake,” he muttered. “I need the pills to function. Without them, I’m…useless.”

Wilson leaned forward, voice gentle but firm. “You’re not useless, House. You’re just…not used to relying on anyone but yourself. It’s okay to need help.”

“Yeah? Then why don’t you need help?” House snapped, the bitterness in his voice sharp enough to make Wilson flinch.

“I do,” Wilson admitted, surprising himself. “I just…choose different ways to cope. You’re not broken for wanting to take the edge off your pain, House. You just need to find something that won’t destroy you.”

Wilson held House’s gaze, the vulnerability in it catching them both off-guard. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Finally, House slumped forward, rubbing his temple.

“So, what then?” he muttered. “What am I supposed to do now?”

“One day at a time,” Wilson replied softly. “And if you need me to, I’ll be here for every single one of them.”

The next few weeks were a blur of tension, progress, and plenty of setbacks. House was still grumpy, still sharp-edged, but every once in a while, Wilson would catch a glimpse of something different—a House who was tired, vulnerable, and maybe, just maybe, a little grateful.

One night, House showed up at Wilson’s door unannounced. He looked haggard, his usual bravado worn thin.

“I thought about going to the pharmacy,” House said, not meeting Wilson’s gaze. “But I came here instead.”

Wilson’s heart twisted. “I’m glad you did.”

They didn’t talk about it any further. Wilson let House crash on his couch, and as they sat in the darkened living room, House’s head lolled back on the cushion, his guard down in a rare moment of ease. Wilson found himself looking at him a little too long. He realized, with a pang, that there was something more here—a tenderness he could never quite put into words.

“Thanks,” House murmured sleepily, eyes half-closed. And then, with a wry grin, “For not saying I told you so.”

Wilson chuckled. “You’d hate me if I did.”

“You think I don’t already?” House’s voice softened, and his eyes drifted to Wilson’s. “If I didn’t… I wouldn’t still be here.”

The words lingered, heavier than House’s usual quips. Wilson’s breath caught, and before he could think better of it, his hand reached out, brushing against House’s fingers on the couch cushion. He half-expected House to pull away, but he didn’t. Their fingers rested together in a silent, unspoken acceptance.

As the months went on, the little moments between them grew. The small, shared glances, the lingering touches. It was an intimacy they never discussed but one that quietly became essential. In those fleeting moments, House found something he didn’t dare name—a balm that was, in some ways, as addictive as the Vicodin.

One night, as they sat in Wilson’s apartment after a particularly hard day, House looked up at him, expression open in a way Wilson had never seen before.

“This thing we’re doing… is it just the drugs? Or…” House’s voice trailed off, uncharacteristically hesitant.

Wilson felt his throat tighten. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from House’s face. “No. It’s not just the drugs, Greg. It’s…us.

House met his eyes, the hint of a smirk curving his lips. “You’re sappy, you know that?”

Wilson just smiled, letting his fingers linger against House’s cheek. For once, neither of them tried to hide behind a joke. In the stillness of that moment, they both understood: they had become each other’s medicine.

And for House, that was a kind of healing he had never thought possible.

[florallylly]

less steve harrington "i try to be a good guy despite my past" and more steve harrington "i've always been a good person (albeit probs annoying asf), you just stereotyped me based on my interest in sports"

[deiaiko]

#23.1 Prank

Grace didn't know what to make of this situation.

One moment he was bringing Agni his lunch, and now he was in one of the bathroom stalls with Endorsi. 

Endorsi had asked him if she could use the tag to talk with him, and he agreed to her request without any questions. Agni had begrudgingly sent him away with her, which was fair. But then she chose the bathroom, out of all places they could talk.

Grace was sitting on the closed-lid water closet, while Endorsi stood in front of him with her hands folded over her chest. The way she towered against him felt like he was about to get scolded or interrogated.

"Well…" She leaned closer. "We only have three minutes, so let's not waste any time and get started, shall we?"

Grace could only sit there awkwardly. "What…do you have in mind, exactly?"

"Huh, I hinted at it in our conversation earlier. Did you not catch it?"

Grace tried to recall. Something about Endorsi wanting to make someone jealous? Was that it? "Sorry, I spaced out earlier. Can you refresh me on that?"

"I want to prank your team." She lowered her voice, and only then did Grace catch the playfulness in her tone. "I just need you to look a little messy."

Grace raised an eyebrow. He knew what she was implying, and this didn't look like it would benefit him in any way. He knew how much Gyetang and Dan idolized her, and what would Agni think if Grace let her do anything to him?

"Look, I'm not going to steal you from your man. So I will keep my hands to myself, but you'll have to comply." She said that as if she just read his mind. "If anything, it might make him more clingy if he takes our bait. What do you think?"

He was still not convinced that this would be a fun prank. But one thing he learned about Endorsi was that once she set her goal, there was no changing her mind until it failed to meet her expectations. Well, as long as no one was harmed, he would humor her. "Okay. How are we doing it?"

Endorsi dug through her pocket and pulled out a lipstick. "Do you know how to apply this?"

Grace blinked, suddenly unsure if it was what he thought it was. "Uhm…by smearing it on your lips?"

"So you know. Good."

"Well, I have my own." Not exactly lipstick though; Agni said it was a tinted lip balm. But anyhow, it should work about the same.

Endorsi didn't look surprised, but her expression turned thoughtful. "Huh, that could spare you some work. But I don't think it would make a convincing story…"

She started mumbling something that made less sense the more it went on. So instead, he started to take note of her appearance.

Today she chose to wear a sporty bra, leggings and shoes, which meant she came prepared for some exercise. He looked forward to sparring with her after lunch, curious on how powerful she currently was. The ponytail also suited her, although it couldn't tie all of her shorter hair on her nape. It reminded him of the time when his and Agni's hair was at her length.

"–Yeah no, that won't do." She turned her attention to him again, pulling him out of his thoughts. "You should use mine."

She took out a tissue paper and cleaned the tip of her lipstick before handing it to him. Grace examined the light shade of pink and thought that it was a lovely color, very Endorsi-like. He glanced at her once again to make sure, before using his lighthouse as a small mirror and applied the lipstick on his lips. Turns out, the color didn't suit him that well.

"Ehh." Endorsi seemed to have the same opinion, taking back her lipstick. "Well, that doesn't matter. Now, kiss the back of your hand, and then transfer the mark onto your cheek. Can you do that?"

Grace had no complaints doing so. Endorsi was thoughtful enough to respect his boundaries this time. If anyone asked, he could confidently say that she did nothing to him.

As Grace was doing as told, Endorsi cleaned the tip of her lipstick again and applied it on her own lips. He noticed that she deliberately smeared it a little on the edge.

"Here." Endorsi handed him a new tissue paper. "You should wipe your lips and hand."

"Okay."

"Hm…Maybe make your hair a little messy too?"

Grace pulled his ponytail to make it a little undone. 

She smirked after giving him a once-over, satisfied. "Yes. That should do it."

Grace smiled politely, before checking the timer on his pocket and found out that it had only a few seconds left. "We should go back."

"Okay." She said easily and made her way out of the bathroom. "Remember the rule. Whatever happened earlier stayed only with us."

"Yes. I know." It was the rule that Agni made for this 'private time' reward, and it was only fair that he followed it.

"Oh and, that mark stays until someone points it out. Just pretend you didn't know it exists." She pouted playfully at him, before turning back to a cheerful mood. "I can't wait to see everyone's reaction!"

As they walked back to the cafeteria, Endorsi flashed him a grin –this time a gentle one that he rarely saw. "Hey, thanks for indulging me."

Grace felt a smile tug on his lips. It probably was the first genuine smile he had from her, ever since he came back to the past. He hoped it'd stay that way from now on. "No problem."

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[dutybcrne]

Love the idea of Kae painstakingly learning Hilichurian, at first bc he figured it was another skill under his belt then bc talking with them made him curious abt them and their origin

[brionysea]

love this shot. it's like mike is inviting them into his mind/game ("alright, wheeler, i think we found your hub") + max and dustin are the ones who step into frame. i am staring at the implications

[jankwritten]

After finishing BOTL, I have to say - the fanon interpretations of Nico are sooooooo……yikes. I’ve been away from canon for so long that I forgot, but he’s not like. A sniveling shy little ooby baby. Like he’s 11 but he acts like he’s 15-16. He’s had to grow up way too fast and it shows in how he’s awkward around people his age, awkward around people in general. He’s angry, he’s capable of massive anger, but he doesn’t hate people, he doesn’t hate being around people. He’s distrustful because he’s been burned so many times in just, like, 8 short months. He lost his sister and learned that his hero betrayed him and found out his father makes him an outcast and that even the one place he was meant to belong won’t accept him. Of course he’s angry. Of course he’s hurt.

But he’s not whiny. He’s not overly emo, at least not in BOTL. The reasons for what he does and why he behaves the way he does are valid and understandable.

It’s interesting. I love his canon character so much more than I remember. I just wish fanon would stop getting it wrong.

[llycaons]

sometimes I feel like I've overcorrected on the unhealthy relationships in media thing because there is so much nauseating bullshit out there that people present as aspirational, which is kind of a shame because a lot of the most interesting fictional relationships are absolute nightmares and it's a real gift to see them appreciated by people who understand the nuances and the appeal

[boogiewoogieweeb]

thinking about a joplittle/while you were sleeping au where jops is the lucy to ned's jack, with francis as platonic!peter and blanky as saul -i'll leave my (very) scattered thoughts on this in the tags but man the urge to plot this out is overwhelming rn...

[mellowwillowy]

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝

Yan! Sugar Daddy who fell in love with you at first sight in the cafe he often visited for his daily to-go coffee. He had seen lots of beauties but you were the first to catch his breath.

Yan! Sugar Daddy who tried to woo you, he tried his best to not scare you and subtly flirt with you. It took him a huge courage to approach you and ask for your number.

Yan! Sugar Daddy who found out you were still just a college student who was most likely to be struggling with financial issues, or so he assumed from how most of the students there were.

Yan! Sugar Daddy who took his time bonding with you before subtly offering an arrangement with you, a mutual arrangement of a sugar relationship. Instead of sex, fancy dates, or a plus one to those higher-ups events, he wanted your company all the time if he could.

You were wary and hesitant but his silver-tongued nature convinced you that this would change your life for the better.

While you were inexperienced in most of it, Yulian made sure to make you feel comfortable about it and him. The weekly allowance and PPM were enough to make you never lift a single finger to work anymore.

The more you spent time with him, the less it felt like an arrangement. It felt like a man treating you with utmost respect while spoiling you with luxuries you would never imagine to have.

But with such great benefits came a great price. You noticed that you had been seeing your friends less because of the attention you had on him.

You noticed the higher-ups never stopped sneering at you for being a commoner or his pet whenever you attended the fancy events with him as his plus one.

You noticed how you had almost less to none freedom, always heavily guarded by what seemed to be his bodyguards. Who was he and why did you even need this sort of protection?

One day you decided to trick his bodyguards with your flat-out white lies so that they'd leave you alone. They did not expect someone like you to ever lie and put them at risk so they left you alone.

All you did was wander around in awe, checking the grand balcony to go to the washroom as normal people would.

Yan! Sugar Daddy who was seething in rage when the bodyguards came to him, tricked by your childish lie. But there was no way something bad would happen with this slight mistake right? You were not his spouse by any means.

But oh did everyone know you were someone he fancied for the first time in his whole life. Part of his brain just tried to look at this mistake in a bright light and it backfired.

Yan! Sugar Daddy who had to be endlessly teased by his great-for-nothing cartel friend. He had to endure the stress of losing you and the risk of not being able to take you back.

It's not like the Drug Lord couldn't help him, it was simply humiliating for him to endanger you by not keeping a close eye on you.

Yan! Sugar Daddy who could track you down in less than a week and ordered a mass slaughter on the faction that imprisoned you. You were not wounded terribly but a wound was still a wound.

Yan! Sugar Daddy was just a confidant to the Drug Lord and an infamous lawyer. You only knew he was a lawyer but never the lurking threat of his other occupation. No wonder he was always wary of his surroundings.

How could someone from such a cold underground world have the heart to fall in love with you? That was what you thought when you woke up to his concerned face.

Weeks passed and it didn't take him so long to propose to you, for you to become his spouse.

"I truly love you, dear. I have never even once seen our arrangement as something strictly business instead." He showed you a velvety box with a diamond ring in it. "I admit, it was not the best approach but I thought I could work my way into your heart while profiting you with all the benefits and luxuries you could have from me."

He swallowed the lump in his throat, "I wanted you to see how capable I am."

Something told you that nothing good would come out of your refusal. And instead, logic swarm into your brain. You had been in an arrangement with him for almost a year already and had never even once felt any hardships.

He was nice to you, downright kind and loving even. He cared for you deeply and wouldn't hurt you in any way. It was your fault that you broke free from the barrier of protection he granted you.

With great fame and luxuries, came all sorts of threats. He wasn't disloyal like those higher-ups. He didn't belittle you like others would. He loved you.

Even if you didn't love him, you knew how great it felt to be loved by him. There was not a single loss from this arrangement which was a marriage, right?

[ink-asunder]

Okay against my own vows, I'm rereading my dragon age fanfic and I wanna bite people!! This shit is so riveting

[simplyholl]

Filthy

Summary: After a long mission, Bucky needs you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY.

See my Masterlist Here

"Would it be too crazy if we slept together?" Your sweet voice replayed over and over in his mind. He hadn't flat out refused your offer, but he hadn't said yes either. Now as he laid under the rubble of the bomb Hydra had detonated, it was all he could think of.

You were friends, one of the only people besides Steve to make him feel welcome on the Avengers. The others were wary of him, and he didn’t blame them. He had done unforgivable things as The Winter Soldier. Now he was fighting for the right cause. He couldn't help the reoccurring nightmares of the horrors he encountered in his past. He didn't want to get too comfortable in his new life, the one Steve helped him obtain because he was scared The Winter Soldier was still lurking around in his brain somewhere.

That's why he never dated. Sam would tease him, telling him he could have anybody he wanted, but he settled for his hand every night. Bucky couldn't afford to get too close to anyone. Especially someone who was weaker than him like the opposite sex. He was scared he would lose control while being intimate and hurt or even kill his partners. So he never let anyone get too close, until you.

You came bouncing into his life unexpectedly. You were brought on the team shortly after him. He would never forget your first day. Steve introduced you to everyone at the morning meeting. You were all smiles, your bubbly personality instantly drawing him in. The others were making comparisons between the two of you immediately. You were so happy, so upbeat all the time and Steve was the only one who could get Bucky to crack his cold exterior and actually smile.

Despite your differences, you got along great. Which was a bonus since Tony liked to pair you together for missions. You worked well together, complimenting each other in ways you had never thought of. Who knew almost dying together every week can cause you to form close bonds? You were spending all your free time together. You introduced him to your favorite films, some of them were awful, but he would never tell you that. You would stay up late together watching old reruns of 90's sitcoms for comfort after long missions. Bucky would go shopping with you, holding every bag you had and never complaining.

The team thought something was going on between you. Why else would the cold super soldier follow you around like a lost puppy? They put Steve up to asking about it, but Bucky denied anything but friendship. There had never been anything happen in the whole year you knew each other. You never sat too close or crossed any boundaries, never thought about it until a month ago.

One of the longest, most dangerous missions you had ever been on finally came to a close. There had been too many casualties and you were upset. Even the comfort of your warm pajamas and favorite movie didn't ease your mind. Bucky thought you needed to be alone, so he told you goodnight and headed for his room. You called after him pleading him to stay with you. You couldn't be alone, not after that.

He hesitated, he never stayed the night with anyone because of his nightmares. Tony even gave him a pass when a mission required room sharing. He was the only one who didn't have to pair up. He was afraid he might hurt you or scare you during his sleep. He tried to tell you, but you couldn't be swayed. He found himself under your fluffy pink comforter on heart shaped pillows, surrounded by a mountain of stuffed animals but he felt oddly at home.

You tried to cuddle up to him, but he scooted away. He didn't want you too close to him while he was asleep just in case he had a nightmare. But you didn't care. You told him if he attacked you in his sleep, you would blast his dick off. That made him a little less worried. "How do Tony and Clint do it?" You asked as you wrapped your arms around him, trying to snuggle the grumpy super soldier. "Do what?" He relaxed a little under your touch. "The whole normal family thing. They have a wife, kids, the works, and they are the only ones. The rest of us can't keep a relationship for more than a month, and some only do one night stands. It's hard being a hero when you have to give up stuff like that."

Bucky considers your words carefully. "Is that something you want?" You throw your leg over him, trying to get comfortable. "Eventually, I want to settle down. I'm thinking at least ten years from now, not any time soon. It's just hard to tell who is asking you out for the right reasons or because you're famous. I can't tell you how many phones I've destroyed after dates because they were trying to live stream the whole thing. Is that why you don't date?"

Bucky tenses, explaining how his past as The Winter Soldier scared him away from anything like that. "So you haven't been having sex because you're scared you will hurt someone?" He nods and you giggle. Bucky looks at you like you've grown a second head. "I'm sorry Bucky, that's ridiculous. Your arm must be so tired! Oh my God! Do you use the metal one?" His silence makes you laugh harder. "Bucky there are super powered women you could have been sleeping with this whole time. People who could at least put up a fair fight if something like that happened, but you're okay now right? I thought the code words didn't work anymore." You rub his back soothingly.

You gasp as an idea hits you. "Would it be too crazy if we slept together?" It was like word vomit. You didn't mean to say it out loud, but you couldn't take it back now. Bucky is so still that you think he's fallen asleep. Thankful he didn't hear your unhinged suggestion, you lay your head down to go to sleep.

"You mean that?" Bucky asks after a few minutes of silence pass. "If it wouldn't hurt our friendship then, why not? I trust you. And I could hold my own if things went sideways. Plus, I'm a lot hotter than your hand, you have to admit that." The quip earned a chuckle from him. "Can I think about it?" He asks, his seriousness taking over. "Of course." You snuggle back into him, sleep finding you more quickly than you would've liked. That was a little over a month ago, neither of you brought it up afterward. You figured he didn't want to hurt your feelings, so you let it go.

Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand helping him to his feet. "I thought we lost you back there." He says leading him to the quinjet. On the ride home, Bucky thought about his life, how unhappy he had been lately. He thought of you and how he kept you at arm's length to protect you from himself. You were always so open to him, always letting him know what was on your mind. When you suggested the two of you sleep together, he was shocked. Of course, he wanted to but he couldn't. You were too sweet, he was jaded. He would end up hurting you somehow, he was sure of it. But you weren't scared of him, you trusted him.

Bucky thought of all the times he laid alone at night, masterbating when he could have went home with someone instead. He always turned them down, he couldn't risk it. He lived too dangerously. He could lose his life any moment saving the planet from the next alien attack. Wasn't it time he started living for himself? He had his mind made up when the quinjet landed. Steve told him to go get the cuts on his face and arm examined but he ignored him.

He almost ran to the elevator, not bothering to wait for Steve to get on before pressing the button to shut the doors. When it finally stopped on his floor, he walked by his room, stopping three doors down right outside of yours. He should have cared that it was three in the morning, that he would be waking you up, but he didn't. He tapped on the door loud enough to wake you.

He regretted coming straight here as he waited for you, he should have went to his room to shower first. His leather jacket was dirty and torn. There was a small gash on his arm that had finally stopped bleeding. His face was filthy and according to Steve, he had a cut there too. He probably looked terrifying. He thought about leaving to clean up, but then he heard the pitter patter of your feet as you approached the door.

You pull it open slightly at first, to see who is outside, opening it wider when you see him. He steps inside as you shut it back, locking it behind him. Bucky looks around the dark room noticing the glow from your tv. Your hair is messy, you must have been sleeping fitfully. His gaze drops to your body, you're wearing a black t-shirt that stops at your hips and black lace panties.

"Are you okay?" You ask taking in his disheveled appearance. You turn to get something to clean his wounds, his vibranium hand catches your wrist. "Bucky? What hap-" He picks you up with one arm, holding you close to his body as his lips crash into yours. He walks you to the edge of your bed, tumbling on top of you as your back hits your fluffy pink comforter.

"Do you still want this?" He asks, his voice rougher than he intended. You can't think clearly, not with him on top of you, caging you in like this. His blue eyes search your face as he waits for an answer. Your panties grow wetter with each second that passes. Your nipples are peaked under your shirt, desperate to be touched as you press your chest to his dirty leather jacket. "Yes" You somehow manage to whisper your confirmation.

His mouth is on yours again, rough and demanding, almost desperate. You cup his face with your hands, "Slow down, I'm not going anywhere." You assure him, breaking the kiss. He groans, hating the loss of contact. "Can't" He rasps, his face nuzzling against your neck. He nips and kisses the sensitive skin there, his tongue licking from your shoulder to your jaw.

His flesh hand travels to your chest, rubbing his thumb over your clothed nipple. He keeps kissing his way back down your throat until he reaches the collar of your shirt. His metal arm grabs the top, slipping underneath to get a good grip on it. He rips it down the center with little effort.

You gasp as the cold air hits your now exposed chest. But you're not cold for long, Bucky's lips capture a nipple between his lips tugging and sucking like his life depends on it while his flesh hand toys with the other one. You're not sure what has gotten into him, you never expected it to be like this, like he needs you.

He kisses a trail down your stomach to your panties. They aren't exactly see through, but they don't hide anything either. His vibranium fingers dig into your hip as he lowers his face, his pink tongue licking up the center of your soaked panties. You whimper underneath him, your fingers sliding in his hair, pulling at the short strands.

He grunts as he licks you through the lacy material. You try to close your legs around his head, hoping to bring yourself more relief. Bucky's steel grip on your hip tightens as he brings his flesh hand to your thigh, pulling it off him. He opens you wide, continuing his desperate assault on you. "I need more, please." You whine, needing to actually feel him against you.

He thankfully takes mercy on you, removing his hands to grab both sides of your panties. "Lift your hips for me." You do as your told, and he slides the unwanted garment off of you. He drags you to the edge of the bed, lowering himself on his knees in front of you. He parts your thighs, metal hand returning to its rightful place on your hip. You place your leg over his shoulder, taking a deep breath as the anticipation makes your skin prickle.

His hot breath on your soaked core makes you tremble. You feel him smirk against you. "I havent even touched you yet and you're shakin' like a leaf." A dark chuckle escapes him and he dives in. His tongue flat against you as he gathers your slick, bringing it to your clit and swirling it around. He moans, loving the way you taste. He wraps his lips around your most sensitve part, drawing you in, causing your hips to buck upward.

His grip on your hip tightens, a bruise beginning to form under his thumb. "Be a good girl for me. Stay still." His voice is soft, gentle, a complete contrast to his actions. He alternates between sucking you roughly and licking you slowly. You squirm underneath him, you're so close. He suddenly stops, removing his face from you.

His flesh hand rubbing your stomach, before laying his arm on you forcefully to keep you from moving. "I said stay still." He growls, his tongue swiping your clit before he sucks it between his lips once more. It takes every ounce of concentration you have to not writhe against him. You've never seen him like this so needy, almost feral. He's like a wild animal slurping you down like you're the first thing he's eaten in weeks. You don't dare to disturb him. So you lie as still as you can, letting him have you.

He needs this. He needs you. He flicks his tongue expertly over your clit, sendng you spiralling. He holds you down as he takes all he wants from you. He's not satisfied until you come three times. Your legs are wobbly, you couldn't get up if you had to. Tears stream down your face from how intense it was. He finally stands, unbuttoning his pants, sliding them down just enough to free himself.

He adjusts himself between your legs, filling you up. You gasp, grabbing onto his grimy leather jacket for support. You wonder why he didn't bother with getting undressed, but you don't mind. You love how dirty he is. How the filth on his jacket rubbing against your bare chest is the sexiest thing in the world right now. How you can see the cut on his arm, dried blood on his sleeve. You don't know if it's his or some Hydra asshole's, and you don't know which is hotter.

His hair is disheveled. His face is scraped, dirt from the mission caked on him, remnants of your arousal still on his mouth. He fills you completely over and over, holding you as close as he can. His pants rub the back of your thighs as he pounds into you. You caress his face, "Can I be on top?" You ask quietly, afraid you'll offend him some way in his feral state. He flips you so his back is on your mattress. Normally you would be upset that your sheets were getting dirty, but you didn't mind at all. You place your legs on either side of him, sliding down his length. Your ass hits the fabric of his jeans as you take all of him.

You look behind you noticing how big he looks on your bed. His leather boots covered in mud, hanging off the edge. A gush of arousal floods his lap, his hands hold your thighs, pulling you closer. You begin to lift yourself up and down on him, your legs still shaky from your earlier orgasms. Bucky notices you won't be able to keep it up for long, so he clutches your hips, taking over. He thrusts underneath you, your hands land on his shoulders needing to steady yourself. You love that it's giving the illusion that you're in control, your body on top of his, but he's calling all the shots, moving your body like he owns it.

You've never felt so full. It's as if Bucky can read your mind, his flesh hand pressing on the bulge he's making in your stomach. He works you harder now, his vibranium thumb coming between you to swirl your clit. Your vision goes blurry, stars bursting behind your eyelids. You come with a loud cry of his name. He follows shortly after, spilling inside you. He holds you close, as you listen to his breathing slow down as he drifts off to sleep while still inside you.

Tags in the comments! ❤️

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

Talk (Silence)

~

Danny has gotten used to not having to watch what he said as the years went by.

In Amity everyone basically knew he was Phantom and just treated it as normal, and he had already told his parents what had happened,

They did a total 180 on their opinions, now chasing after ghosts to question them about everything they could squeeze out of them.

They were very proud of Danny too, often helping him with their technology.

Having said that he got used to not watching what he said in Amity, everyone knew so why bother right?

Unfortunately he was not in Amity

He was in Gotham visiting Jazz, who had moved for University.

They were currently in a cafe catching up, talking as their used to.

Not realizing that their conversation without context sounded very worrying.

~

Jazz: " So how are mod and dad?"

Danny: "Oh you know the usual, they're making new weapons, hopefully this time they wont target me, getting shot sucks, but I prefer it over getting electrocuted "

Jazz: " Good luck!"

(TOPC)The other people in the cafe: What the fuck

~

Danny: " Vlad keeps putting cameras in my room, so I went and confronted him about it again, I don't care that he's the mayor! "

Jazz: " He really needs some therapy"

Danny: " He's a fruitloop, he's beyond help"

TOPC: *concerned side eye*

~

Jazz: "You know I was a bit more worried about the criminals here, but honestly weak, I miss actual competent villains"

Danny: "I told you!"

TOPC not sure if they should be offended or wary of where they live

~

Jazz: " You know I kinda miss the food back home"

Danny: "What that it would come back to life and fight you to the death?"

Jazz: " I mean that too, but I was talking about the taste"

Danny: " Oh yes the chemically contaminated food really has some extra flavor compared to this" *gestures at his plate*

~

Danny: " I went to the park to play with Cujo and got kidnapped and they almost cut me in half"

Danny/Jazz: "Typical Friday!"

TOPC recording on their phones to make sure they're not hallucinating, someone is live tweeting.

~

Just an Idea

[hurlingdown]

thinkin’ about . . . gunplay with fushiguro toji. you’re a notorious mafia boss, and he’s a sharp-witted spy sent out to honey trap you. what comes next?

tags. sub! toji, dom! reader. gunplay, oral, cock-stepping, dirty talk, degradation, slight feminization, sir kink, toji being a (cock)slut.

fushiguro toji would have never thought his honey trap mission would end up with him being on his knees for you and a gun to his throat.

“don’t tell me,” you muttered, patting the barrel of the gun against his cheek, “you actually thought you would be able to pull this off without getting caught?” 

toji was staring up at you with such composure that normally would have pissed you off, but you didn’t miss the way he visibly swallowed when you traced his jawline with the muzzle, betraying how affected he really was. he couldn't help it. the way you were treating him was exciting, and he had to remind himself that you were holding a weapon that could end his life. 

at his silence, you slowly trailed the mouth of the gun down the vein of his neck, cold metal scraping against hot skin, making him shiver. 

“so quiet,” you sighed, angling the gun in a way that circled his adam’s apple, his breath hitching at the slight pressure on his windpipe. “and to think you were talking so much earlier, when you attempted to seduce me in that bar.” 

toji smirked. “n’ i damn near succeeded.” 

“if you did, you’d be in a far better place than here, kneeling at my mercy. don’t you think?” 

“y’were ready to bend me over the table,” he drawled, lazily meeting your eyes. “if you didn’t see the gun—you would’ve fucked me in fronta everyone.” 

eyebrows furrowing, you gripped his hair forcefully, lifting him to meet you face-to-face as he grunted in pain, struggling to stay on his knees with his hands bound behind him. “—fucker. give a warning.” 

you clenched your jaw.

“i can see why they sent you,” you said nonchalantly, a carefully constructed facade for your anger—hot gaze trailing down the tempting crevice of his chest, down to the erection that practically bulged obscenely against the front of his trousers. “with this slutty body of yours. could make you half a woman with the size of those.” 

“could it,” toji wheezed. it didn’t come out like a question. “got a thing for whores with big tits? or ‘s just me, sire?” 

what was he playing at? you jerked his head back roughly, lining the gun up at the base of his throat. 

“open your mouth again, and i’ll put a bullet through your pretty face.” 

toji stared the gun down as though being held at gunpoint was a routine for him at this point, completely unfazed. his gaze darted towards you right after, face contorted into a strangely smug expression, like he knew you weren’t going to shoot him. you watched as he carefully parted his lips, taking his tongue out and shooting you a naughty gaze through his lashes. 

it took you a moment to gather your bearings before you snarled, half in anger and half in awe. “you fucking slut.”

if he wanted something in his mouth, well, you were going to give him something.

ignoring the glint of wariness in his eyes as you raised the gun from his throat, you pressed the tip of it against his lips before slowly pushing it past the rim. it had to taste bitter, with residual gunpowder staining the edges, but toji didn’t show it. if anything, it looked like he was enjoying it, jaw slackening as he allowed you to push in further. 

toji’s eyes fluttered shut as you finally bottomed out, trying not to gag as the muzzle hit the back of his throat. there was a small frown fixed on his face in concentration, and he tilted his head expertly to allow it to slide in deeper. 

his lips were wrapped taut around the thick barrel up to the trigger where your finger laid, lewd gurgles now sounding as saliva rapidly gathered in his mouth at the overstretch. a line of drool tantalisingly dripped down the side of his chin, dribbling down the exposed column of his throat. 

the loud click of you cocking the gun had him letting out a pathetic whimper, swallowing hard as he tried his hardest to take it in deeper. he glanced up at you through smouldering, watery eyes, looking for something akin to… approval. 

“think i underestimated how much of a whore you are,” you muttered, yanking his head to the side, to which he whined lowly at. “got a thing for sticking dangerous objects down your throat, toji, or is it just my gun?”  

toji let out a muffled response, or tried to, as you took the opportunity to flatten the side of the barrel against his tongue, the heel of your foot simultaneously digging down hard onto his clothed erection. he groaned, hips bucking up as he tried to chase the sudden stimulation, the overwhelming pleasure making his eyes roll back in an erotic display.

“that’s enough,” you rasped, pulling the barrel out. it was now thoroughly drenched in his spit, and a lewd string of saliva connected the muzzle and his lips. he looked up at you with dazed bedroom eyes.

“i want the real thing now,” toji purred. “sire.” 

kinktober masterlist! main masterlist!

[seresinhangmanjake]

Forgetting

Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: Jake forgets to pick you up at the airport because of his ex, and for the first time, you think maybe you and Jake aren't mean to be.

Notes/Warnings: Angst, but ends fluffy. Fighting. Cursing. This was a request that I said I'd have done in a couple days and it took me a week and a half. Sorry about that. Also, please be gentle. I haven't written for Jake in what feels like a millennium.

Words: 2700

Jake Seresin Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List

As much as it would kill you to know that he could be hurt, you hope he’s hurt. You hope he’s on his way to the hospital to receive life-saving treatment because if he’s not hurt, if he’s not receiving life-saving treatment, then he simply forgot about you. And that makes your heart want to claw its way out of your chest and scamper across the floor until it’s well out of your range to catch it. 

Your call goes to voicemail for the fourth time. You send your twelfth text: I hope you’re ok. I landed an hour ago. Please call me. Nothing different than the eleven other messages that have gone unanswered. Forty-five more minutes pass of you sitting on a bench by the airport exit before you finally surrender your last shred of hope and call Bradley to come save you. 

Within the hour, you’re sighing in relief, the sight of a friendly face almost bringing you to tears. He approaches you with open arms and you fall right into the embrace, comforted by the hug that should be in your boyfriend’s arms, and the warmth that should be from your boyfriend’s body, and the forehead kiss that should be from your boyfriend’s lips. 

“Please tell me he’s ok,” you say against your friend’s chest. 

A heavy palm rubs up and down your back. “No one could get ahold of him.”

Your head jerks back so you can meet his eyes. “Oh my god!”

“I’m sure he’s fine, kid. Don’t worry.”

“How can you say that? He was supposed to be here and he’s not and–” You pause when Bradley looks away from you, and a hefty stone settles in your gut. You know your friend well. He’s a good man, honest but sensitive, and when that honestly meets that sensitivity, it results in his inability to look someone in the eye if he thinks the truth might hurt them. You’ve seen it a hundred times, but never with you. 

Your posture wavers with your lengthy exhale. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Another great thing about Bradley: he doesn’t make you play any games. You don’t have to jump through hoops. You don’t have to ask the right questions in the right way in order to get what you need out of him, unlike many men, your boyfriend included, who recently has found ways to skitter around telling the full truth. 

“Javy said he saw him a couple of hours ago,” Bradley says.

Your back teeth clench. Your mind shoots to one conclusion. “With her?” you ask. Bradley’s eyes drift from yours again and you nod, a tear at the ready to leak down your cheek. “He forgot about me because he’s with her.”

“We don’t know that for sure, and–”

Your hand scrubbing down your face cuts him off. Your fingers pinch the bridge of your nose before you suck in your whimper and say, “Rooster, why did he even ask me to come here?”

“Because he…I mean, we thought he–”

“You thought he gave a fuck about me.”

“He does,” Bradley says, stressing his words in an attempt to reassure you. “He never shuts up about you.”

“Sure,” you say. “He gives so much of a fuck that he forgot about me to be with his ex. How can you explain that?”

Rooster sighs. His hands slip into his jeans pockets just to have something to do with them. “I can’t.”

“Exactly.” 

No one can explain it. Not you, not Bradley, not Jake. Everyone you know back home would be telling you to run for the hills right now. They were already wary of this ‘Navy guy’ that they’d only met twice around the holidays, who lives a decent distance away from your entire life and who constantly requests that you be the one to hop on a plane rather than the other way around. 

For the duration of your time together, you’ve been understanding of that sacrifice. You know his schedule doesn’t allow impromptu trips out of state, but that hasn’t made it any less exhausting for you. And maybe that’s a sign. Another sign. A nail in the coffin. Maybe you and Jake aren’t meant to be. And why would you be? You met him on a brief vacation to visit a friend who doesn’t even live in the same town anymore, and somehow, during those few days, he convinced you to take a chance on him. So you took the leap. But being that bold doesn’t guarantee you won’t fall flat on your face, and you think that’s exactly what’s happening. You’ve tripped over a guy only to realize he doesn’t care about you to the same degree that you care about him. 

However, you’re not the type to avoid confrontation. If Jake Seresin is going to mistreat you because of his ex, then he is going to do it to your face. He’s going to look you in the eye when he shows himself to be the liar he is. It may hurt more to go to him rather than get on the next plane home without so much as taking in a breath of fresh Californian air, but you’re too upset to let that thought fully develop, and a moment later, Rooster is following your stomps out the door. 

—

You find him at the Hard Deck, standing at a hightop with a beer glass in his hand that clinks against the one in his ex’s before he takes a sip. Bradley’s comforting hand lands on your back in solidarity. You only met him because of Jake, but the two of you bonded despite their differences, and having him by your side now makes him nothing short of a life-saver. 

He helps guide you through the crowd to the table, and when Jake spots you, he chokes around the liquid going down his throat. His blown-out emerald eyes rival saucers and his mouth gapes like a fish, but then his stare flicks to Bradley, and those eyes shrink into narrow slits. His face heats to a boiling red. 

“What the fuck!” Jake snaps, shocking the composure right out of his ex’s poised stance. Bar patrons close by turn their heads but quickly return to their own conversations. Jake steps away from the table, coming to a halt in front of you and his squadmate. “What the hell is this?”

You figured he’d be bothered if you showed up with Bradley in tow. And good, that’s what you feel he deserves. Jake’s been wary of the other Dagger’s closeness to you for a while, and even though you know—as does Bradley—that it’s an asinine concern, you have no problem using it against him now. But still, the intensity of his reaction manages to surprise you. You didn’t think he would be this angered by the sight of you with another man that it would have him overlooking his mistake of forgetting you.

Your arms cross. “This is your girlfriend and the guy who saved her when her damn boyfriend left her stranded at the airport.”

“Excuse me?”

Jake’s ex’s prying gaze tugs at your attention, but when you glance over his shoulder to catch her in the act, she quickly looks away—just more proof that whatever the fuck she’s doing with your boyfriend is something to be ashamed of. 

Bradley’s saying something. You can’t quite hear him over the anger-induced fuzzing in your ears, but you’re pretty sure it’s a scolding based on the twisting of Jake’s features as he shoots back his own words of aggression. And then your hand is in his and you’re being pulled through the bar, out the back door, and onto the deck where the only intrusive sound is the lapping of waves on the shore. 

“Why are you here?” he asks. 

You scoff to mask the heartbreak that comes with that question. “Because you asked me to be here.”

“Tomorrow.”

“What?”

“It’s Wednesday,” he says. 

“It’s Thursday, Jake.”

“No, it’s—” he freezes, and you don’t know if he’s tipsy or stupid, but it takes him a minute to come to the same conclusion: it is indeed Thursday. “Fuck,” he mutters.

Your lower back meets the edge of the railing, and you sigh, thankfully keeping in the tears. “What are you doing with her?”

“What the fuck are you doing with Rooster?” he returns much more forcefully. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I called, I texted, I left voicemails,” you tell him, “But clearly, she was more important.”

Jake’s hands pat down his pockets, mouth setting in a frown when he can’t find his phone.

“Don’t bother. Phone or no phone, you forgot about me because of her. Last time I was here, you were late for one of our dates because of her. You spent fifty percent of our time together stepping away to take her phone calls,” you say, trying and failing to avoid the bitter taste on your tongue. “Just fuck her, Jake, if you haven’t already. I only came here to tell you that she can have you.”

You’ve never seen him fall apart the way he does. You’ve never seen the blood drain from his cocky face. You’ve never seen his features break and crack and contort into the vision of pure devastation as they do. His parted mouth must’ve gone dry because his next words come out slightly hoarse.

“You don’t mean that,” he says, but it’s more of a plea than anything. “Why…Why would you–” He swallows. A wrinkle forms between his brows and he shakes his head. “You love me. You didn’t mean to say that.”

You do love him—terribly so—but you’re willing to be one of those people who won’t view love as enough if it also means laying you out as a fool. “Jake–”

“Take it back,” he says. His steps are quick, and then you’re trapped where you stand, his hands on either side of your body, gripping the rail. Eyes drill into yours, and for a second, you feel a pang of guilt. “Please, baby, take it back. She doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“And I mean less.”

“No!” he says. “That’s not true. You’re everything, ok? You mean everything to me. She was just helping me, that’s all.”

“Helping you,” you mimic with a roll of your eyes. “Helping you what? Get off?”

With a little whine, Jake’s head drops between his shoulders, his blond hair brushing your collarbone. “Please. Please quit saying things like that.” His hands slide closer to your body and land on your hips. You don’t push him away—you can't—and his touch softens you ever so slightly.

“Then tell me the truth,” you say. “Right now. I’m giving you one shot.”

His head snaps up. His eyes flick back and forth between yours, ironically searching for your honesty, as if you’re the liar on trial here. 

“It was a surprise,” he tells you. “She’s a realtor now, and for the last few months she’s been helping me find a new place, one that’s bigger than what I’ve got because I was going to ask you to move in with me.” Your heartbeat stutters. A layer of goosebumps coats your arms. When you don’t respond, he continues, “I hate missing you. I hate how unfair it is that you’re always the one to come here because I can’t fly out at the drop of a hat. I know it’s a big step, but I figured if I had a place, I could show you how great things could be. That’s why she and I came here. We were celebrating because I’m signing on a house first thing tomorrow,” he says. “Well, that’s why I’m celebrating, anyway. She’s probably celebrating because she just made a decent commission.”

It’s almost unfair how that new information doesn’t make you feel any less of a fool. Had he told you that under any other circumstances, you’d be leaping into his arms, kissing him like you’ve been deprived of him for years, repeating ‘yes’ over and over between those kisses, but you can’t. You can’t because his explanation doesn’t fix everything. 

“That still doesn’t change that it’s Thursday, not Wednesday,” you say.

“I know, baby. That’s my fault. I was so excited, and I was thinking how perfect the timing was that I would be able to pick you up tomorrow and drive you by the house now that it’s officially mine, but I fucked it up.”

Jake’s thumbs press into your hips, and you’re instantly reminded of each moment in your relationship when you’ve felt that same light pressure on your skin. A gentle claiming. The same pressure you felt when you agreed to be his girlfriend. The same pressure you feel whenever you’re in bed together. 

You sense eyes on you other than your boyfriend’s, and when you turn your head, you find his ex staring right at you, an expression on her face that you wish you could say wasn’t one of distress, but it is. And worse, it’s obviously not distress for herself, but for Jake, as if she’s hoping she wasn’t just a contributor to a bomb dropping on his life. 

Jake’s busy staring at you despite your averted gaze, and in a monotone voice, you say, “She feels bad.”

He doesn’t follow your eyes. “Because she knows I’ve been doing this all for you.”

You blink. Your hand runs down your face before sifting through the strands of your hair. “You really want me to live with you?”

“Of course I do,” he tells you. He’s shaking his head, but you know it’s because he thinks any idea that he wouldn’t want you to be blasphemous. His hand cups your chin. “I love you.”

With a sigh, you push aside the rollercoaster of emotions, the misunderstandings that lead to frustration and hurt, and look him directly in the eye. And where moments ago you thought you saw lies, you see honestly. Where you thought you saw betrayal, you see love. 

“Can I see it?”

—

It’s small—a two-bedroom with a little driveway, the shingle siding painted a blue-gray shade that is more blue than gray; bundles of flowers bloom in the boxes under the windows; a bay window protrudes from the side of the structure facing the beach. And it’s perfect.

You can imagine building a life here. You can picture a dog that you’ll have to build a fence for and children years later that will have you reinforcing the fence because they’ll probably be like their father, and Jake didn’t choose to be a pilot because of his lack of adventurous nature. You look at this house and you can see the core of a family. A house that, no matter how far you go for Jake’s job, will always be home base.

Jake is leaning around you so you can both watch the house from the passenger seat window. “I’d offer to show you around, but I don’t get the keys until morning.”

“It’s ok,” you tell him. “I don’t need to see inside.”

When you say that, he falls back into his seat. The back of his head presses against the headrest. His fingers squeeze the steering wheel with his sigh of defeat. “You don’t like it.”

Shifting your body to face him, you say, “Jake, I love it.”

Just like that, his eyes brighten like a pouting child who was just offered a lollipop, and you can’t help but chuckle. You can’t help but forget everything that happened earlier in the night, all of it seeming so insignificant now, even though you know it’s not, and you both know that if he ever makes the same mistake again, he’ll have hell to pay. But something tells you that won’t be a problem. 

“Enough to live with me?” he asks.

You nod. “Enough to live with you.”

---

A/N: Thanks for reading! Comments make my entire world, so if you liked it, let me know? Thanks :)