#except that of course since we haven’t seen each other in a while she wanted to chat & ask me questions about picking up more work & im like

[mildmayfoxe]

i was actually dreading today because saturday notoriously busy day at any business but we especially get so many donations on saturday & i thought it was just gonna be me & two other people, one in the store & one who recently had surgery & can’t lift anything heavier than eight pounds. so as you may be able to infer i would have to do all the lifting which is fine except for the fact that my work station is on the entire opposite end of the building and i have SOOOO much work to do. as you can imagine going back and forth to bring stuff down would be extremely time consuming & going back to a task after being interrupted always takes longer than working in a streamline. but my savior coworker who i thought was still off today is unexpectedly HERE which means god willing everyone will leave me alone & i will actually be able to get some THINGS DONE

[irndad]

hi im back! okey so def can see spencer still wanting to hug and snuggle with you even when fighting or mad at each other. he even gets genuinely ??? confused ??? when you try to sleep on the couch instead of in bed at night. he holds you and either reader or him is like "i know we are snuggling right now but i am still super pissed off at you." lol i can just see it. he may be petty when mad but he wont stop trying to touch you bc its a biological need of his and no argument is more important than needing you 🥺

enjoy this I did it very fast!!!! ily

He knows he’s not easy to be with sometimes. She would never say it, but it’s true. He doesn’t always get the jokes, sometimes pushes things too far and without even knowing it the ground gets pulled out from under him. 

And sleep- Sleep is so complicated. The memory of the first time she slept in his bed is etched into a place he could never erase. Spencer had always had trouble sleeping, either fear or alertness plaguing him into the late hours of the night. He used to lie awake, the kind of exhausted that feels like it’s seeping out of your bones, while constantly facts he’d unwittingly memorized about how sleep deprivation can cause brain damage. 

But then she’d come into his life. All soft words and gentle disposition, and there really is something magic about the way that everything just dissipates when her warm, soft body curves into his own. He’s slept well almost every night since. 

Except today, she isn’t coming to bed. 

It’s his fault, and he knows it. He wasn’t being fair. She hadn’t seen him for two weeks (and he hadn’t slept nearly enough without the weight of her form beside him since the last time he saw her) and she’d said that she wanted to be prioritized more. 

“I haven’t seen you in weeks, Spence!”

His head was killing him. Was it actually possible, for a headache to kill you? Her voice is audibly upset, and it’s alarming how he could be the cause of it. 

“Please,” he had said through labored effort, “Can we talk about this later?” 

“When would you like to talk about it? Because I don’t ever know if you’re leaving-“

“Do you even know what it is that I do?  That it’s not a choice for me to go? I have to do this. I can’t pick and choose and honestly, I don’t want to. If you don’t get that, we’re not doing what I thought we were doing.”

It sounds foreign, his own voice. And it’s after he’s said it that the sick taste reaches his throat because oh, that means the end. Her lovely face is unreadable for a brief moment, before something like grief splays over her expression.

It’s silent for a beat, and Spencer wishes he could swallow the words back up, rewind his life like a battered VHS tape where he’s not so stupid to mess up the one thing that’s ever brought him peace.

“You’re not yourself, Spencer. I’m gonna give you a minute.”

A minute, it turns out, is hours in the living room. She hadn’t left, thank fucking god, but she hadn’t come back. Of course she hadn’t. She wasn’t the one who needed to apologize. 

He’s just so tired. 

He thinks of her so-sweet voice, the curve of cheek- the junction of her neck and shoulder, and how much he would like to have her pressed against him. He pads out into the living room like a nervous puppy, and sees her sleeping on the olive green couch she had picked out. Her hair was splayed across the arm of the sofa, and her head laid on a throw pillow, their fuzziest blanket draped across her form. 

His first thought is how low he’s dropped, that he’s jealous of a blanket. 

His second his that she is not coming to bed. He sits beside her gingerly, and the scent of her body wash lingers in the air. 

“Are you planning on coming to bed?”

“I didn’t think you’d want me to.” He can tell she wants to sound cold, but the truth is much worse; she sounds guarded. 

“I always want you to.” It’s the most honest thing he’s said today, and it’s just not fair, how much he revolves around her. How he has waited 14 days, 13 hours and 34 minutes to hold her again and managed to ruin it within the first 20 minutes of having seen her again. He grabs her hand, soft and pliant against his in a way that almost makes his heart leap. “Please? Come to bed?”

Her gaze softens, the warmth and light that guides him back in her eyes, and he hopes his relief isn’t too visible. It’s then that she drinks him in. It feels too revealing like she can see right through him. His clothes are old. He’d rushed off the jet to see her, and the half moon circles under his eyes only lend to the unimpressive picture of himself. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” she breathes, touching the side of his face. He instantly leans into it, the contact more than he’d be willing to give up to save his dignity. “Come here.”

She wraps her arms around him, and he pulls her into his lap, squeezing her tight to his chest, like she might disappear. 

“I’m still mad at you,” she says, looking at him with such affection it betrays her words.

“That’s okay,” he says into her collarbone, “As long as I still have you.”

[ripdragonbeans]

Love In The Darkest Of Places // modern!Aemond x Reader

Chapter 7: A Brief Respite, Perhaps?

Summary: You take a break from everything for a while but Aemond somehow shows back up in your life anyway.

Warnings: none

A/N: Thank you @exitpursuedbyavulcan for making this just a hint messier lol ❤️

Chapter 6 // Chapter 8

He didn't look back.

He didn't look back.

He didn't look back.

Those were the words that echoed in your head. Your heart crumpled. Tears ran down your cheeks. You hugged yourself tight.

A week has passed since you last talked to Aemond. He held true to his word; you were still blocked on his phone. Any attempt at a call went straight to voicemail. He was really cutting you out. You didn't exist in his life anymore.

“Sweetie?” There was a knock at your door. “You can’t stay in your room forever. You’re going to have to come out eventually.”

You talked just loud enough to be heard through the door. “Please leave me alone, Hel.” You sniffled a bit, and a few more tears dropped down. 

Yes, it’s been a week. Yes, you haven’t been able to stop crying for more than a few hours at a time. Yes, you miss him. Yes, everything hurts. No, you don’t feel like you’ve healed at all. You felt everything and nothing all at once. It was unreal; nothing felt real.

For a few more hours, you stayed in bed, curled up, occasionally crying. Whenever you thought you were done crying, a new thought would make its way to the front of your mind, and you'd start all over again. Once you got out of bed, you still wrapped yourself in your blankets but walked out into the living room. 

“I'm alive,” you said unenthusiastically. “I feel like shit, but I'm alive.”

“And I'm glad you are,” Helaena nodded. “Now, what would my friend like to do today except stay in bed?”

You shrugged and mumbled something incoherently.

“That's not going to work, sweetie. You need to get out. Let's go for a walk around the park. Maybe we can find some cute dogs!” 

You smiled at your friend as you gave in. “Fine, let's go find some dogs.”

You waddled back to your room to change into your usual day clothes. This time you chose to go with a casual dress and tights with a jacket and boots. While spring was nearing, it was still a little chilly. You looked at the sapphire necklace on your vanity. It took everything in you not to cry again. You softly caressed the necklace, wishing you could put it on, but you promised Aemond you wouldn't wear it anymore, and you were done breaking promises to him. Even if it hurt you. 

Leaving your room once more, you met Helaena in her car, already warmed up.

“I was thinking we could check out the dog park. It's the best place to find dogs, of course,” she said as though it was an amazing discovery.

“What about the shelter? It's a little smelly, but they're all looking for love.”

“Oh, but I don't want to give them false hope!”

You sighed. “That's fair. To the dog park we go!”

Despite the chilly day, there were quite a few people out with their dogs. You and Helaena sat on the bench and petted every dog that came by to say hi.

One husky came up to you, all friendly, and even jumped on you.

“Down, girl!” A voice called. It was a very familiar voice.

Looking up, you scrunched your eyes in the direction of the voice. “Cregan?” 

Cregan came jogging over to you and Helaena, his shoulder length hair tied in a half up half down ponytail.

“Hey,” he smiled. “Haven't seen you in a few years.”

“Yeah, it's been a while,” you agreed.

Over the years you kept in slight touch with Cregan but not actively. You would like each other's posts on social media and wish each other happy holidays when the time comes around, but that was about it.

“This is my girl, Tempest,” he said while he petted his dog. “Tempest say hi.”

Tempest let out a big “woof” to say hello to you and Helaena. 

“She’s well-trained. Did the training myself. You two got a dog here?”

“No, we just wanted to visit the pups, honestly,” you told him.

“We needed a break from the world,” piped up Helaena.

“That's fair,” Cregan chuckled, then looked at you. “How's you and um, what's his name? Oh, Aemond! How are you two doing?”

Your face dropped immediately. “We're…fine. I guess. We're not together, if that's what you mean. I haven't talked to him in a while.”

“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I thought you two were really close.”

You hugged yourself. “Yeah, we were,” you said quietly.

Silence hung in the air.

Helaena broke the silence. “How about we all go walking downtown? There are plenty of dog-friendly places there!”

Cregan was quick to jump in. “Yeah! Tempest would love to walk around, wouldn't you, girl?”

Tempest barked in excitement and wagged her tail.

“Meet us outside the library, yeah?” Cregan asked before he left.

“We'll be there!” Helaena called after him. “Come on,” she turned to you, “let's go walking with an old friend.”

Once you met up with Cregan and Tempest at the library, it was fairly easy sailing. Everything was okay again. Your heart felt lighter since this morning. It was nice to have something else occupy your mind other than Aemond.

The three of you and Tempest walked up and down the streets of King’s Landing. There were soap shops, clothing stores, tourist shops, and antique stores galore. Every now and then, you had to stop to allow a stranger to pet Tempest; she was more than happy to receive affection. 

You were at a peculiar knick-knacks shop when you felt a pair of eyes on you. Something wasn't right. You turned to ask Helaena about it when you saw them at the front door. Alys and Aemond. Your stomach dropped at the sight of them. You were ready to throw up.

Once again, they were holding hands but didn't show any other signs of affection. They were looking straight at you. Alys looked devious. She grimaced at the sight of you and tried to turn Aemond around but failed. He couldn't take his eye off of you. 

You silently mouthed his name. He was here, and he was so close. You wanted so badly to run to him, but you held yourself back. Not with Alys right there.

He took a step forward, like he was about to try to talk to you, but Alys pulled him back. She got up on her toes and whispered something in his ear. That's when his eye darted to Cregan and his close proximity to you. His jaw ticked, and he quickly turned on his heel, letting go of Alys’s hand and leaving her in the store. Alys didn't seem to mind. Instead, she winked at you and began to browse the store.

“What was that about?” Whispered Cregan.

You brushed it off. “Nothing. Nothing happened.” You bent down to pet Tempest. “Right, Hel? Nothing.”

Helaena nodded her head in agreement. “We should actually get going. It's been a long day.” She gave Cregan a quick hug and Tempest a kiss on the head. “It was nice to see you again.”

After you said your goodbye to Cregan and Tempest, you followed Helaena out the door and to her car, quick to avoid Alys.

When you got home, you sighed, heaviness starting to settle in your heart again. “That was…”

“Weird?” Helaena finished the sentence for you.

“I didn't know if I was going to cry or if I was going to scream at Alys.”

“Did you see how he left her, though? He left her behind.”

“Well, whatever she said to him pissed him off. It probably had to do with Cregan. Gods, she just wants me out of his life,” you groaned. Fear and sadness enveloped you once again. “And it's working. Aemond doesn't want me around.”

“Don't say that, you know that's not true!” Helaena said. “He was about to go to you. Alys just stopped him. If she weren't there, he would have talked to you.”

“If he wanted to talk to me, he could unblock me from his phone,” you countered. You sighed as tears gathered in the corners of your eyes. “I just want him back,” you whispered. 

“He'll come back, I'm sure of it.”

“...okay.” Your heart was no longer light anymore. It was heavy and difficult to carry. “I think I'm gonna go to bed now.” You got up and slowly made your way to your room.

“No, please don't. I need you to stay up,” pleaded.

“I'm drained, Hel. Thank you for the day, though. It was nice to be outside for a bit.” You gave her a sad smile from the hallway, then went to your room.

Curling up in a ball after changing clothes, you thought about the day. It was so nice until you saw him. Gods, you almost didn't even want to think about his name. Just his name made you want to cry. You let a few years fall before settling yourself into a deep sleep.

A few more weeks had passed. Graduation was almost upon you, and soon, Aemond and Alys could be open about their relationship. That was your only thought as finals were coming around the corner. You wiped away tears that threatened to fall. You haven't stopped crying completely but it certainly wasn't as bad as it was before.

You were about to head to class when your phone vibrated. When you unlocked it to see who it was, you almost dropped your phone.

Aemond.

Aemond Targaryen was calling you.

He was calling you.

You fumbled with your phone. “Yes?” You answered.

“Hey, can I come over? I know I've been gone, but I need…I need someone,” he said.

“Are you sure you want me and not Alys?” you asked.

You practically see him nod. “I don't want her. I need you. So, can I come over?”

“Yeah. Helaena is out for classes all day, so it would be just you and me.”

“That's fine.”

“Okay, I'll see you in a bit. To - I mean, bye.” And with a click, you hung up.

Aemond showed up fifteen minutes later. When you opened the door to let him in, the first thing you noticed was the exhaustion on his face.

“Aemond, are you okay?”

He tackled you in a hug, then quickly stepped back. “You were right.” Aemond ran a hand through his unruly hair and curled up on the bed. “She was cheating on me. I caught her with another student.”

“Aemond…” you were careful with your words. “I'm so sorry.” 

You slowly reached out to touch his shoulder, giving him enough time to turn away, but he didn't. He welcomed your touch. Aemond’s hands went to bury his face, and for a while, that's how you stayed. It was comforting, but at the same time, it wasn't enough. You wanted nothing more than to wrap him in your arms and hold him. How dare someone play with his heart after all he's been through.

Aemond suddenly started clawing at his face. “FUCK!” He sat up, ripped off his eyepatch, and threw it across the room. “What the fuck did I do? What did I do to deserve this?” He turned to you. “Tell me. What did I do that made the gods hate me?” Tears began to trickle out of his good eye. His sapphire shimmered as though it had tears as well.

“Aemond, the gods don't hate you,” you tried to reassure him. You slowly brought your other hand to his cheek. “No one hates you. I certainly don't.”

Aemond sniffled. “What about Alys?”

You took your hand away from his face. Alys. Of course he's still thinking about Alys right now. She was the reason he was feeling like this. 

“Alys…made her choice. I'm not saying she never cared about you, but it's showing how much she does by not being faithful.”

“Gods fucking dammit. I hate this. I hate her.”

Hearing Aemond proclaim his hatred for Alys should have your heart soaring, but instead, it made it sink. She was such an important person to him that she made him feel this way, and she didn't give one shit.

“That dinner, when you met her?” Aemond asked. “Guess it was all a fucking lie. She didn't care about me. She cared about getting you out.”

You let his words wash over you. Alys just didn't want to be fired from her job for hooking up with students. It was always about alienating you from Aemond to make sure she kept her job.

“You have a choice now. You can either break up with her and leave this all behind,” you took a deep breath. “Or you could go back to her like nothing ever happened.”

Aemond looked at you with unease in his eyes. He was conflicted. “I choose…” he started, “I choose to leave her.”

You stopped yourself from grinning. “Good. You deserve someone so much better than her. You deserve someone who cares about you.”

“Do I, though? Every person I've cared about has hurt me.” Aemond looked down. 

“Listen to me.” You cupped his face in your hands. “You are the most deserving person of all good things I have ever met. Every wrong that has ever happened to you never should have happened.”

Aemond’s good eye was glossy. He shook his head. “It's difficult to believe that after everything.”

“I know, and I'm so sorry that I'm one of those people who make you feel that way.”

Aemond sniffled. “Not all the time,” he admitted. “You've always been there, except for those few months, but even with everything with Alys, you still stayed.”

“Of course I would.”

He looked at your neck. “You're not wearing my necklace.”

“I didn't want it to remind you that I broke my promise.”

Aemond hummed. It was more of a comforting hum to himself. “Do you miss us?”

You sighed and gave him a small smile. “Of course I do, Aemond. I've missed you every day I've been away from you. Leaving you alone was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Not wearing the necklace hurt my heart. It was my own reminder that I fucked up.”

Aemond moved closer to you. “I've missed you, too.”

And there you sat, holding Aemond closely as though he would disappear.

“I know I've said it before,” you whispered, “but I'm truly sorry for everything.”

“I know you are,” he whispered back. Aemond looked up at you and cupped your face. He sat up and began to lean in.

As much as you wanted to kiss him, you stopped it by placing a gentle finger on his lips.

“I want to kiss you, gods, how I've been wanting to kiss you, but you're hurt right now. I don't want to take advantage of you.”

Aemond flushed and backed up. “Yeah, I understand. I'm sorry, I just -” he stuttered. “Yeah.”

“Let's take it slow, okay? For both of us.”

“For both of us,” he echoed. He looked at you hesitantly. “Can we start with a date?”

You blushed. “Yes, we can start with a date.”

"Together forever?”

You smiled and kissed his forehead. “Together forever.”

[joocomics]

eyes on me

pairing: photographer!jungsu x fem!reader

genre: smut wc: 3k

contains: friends to lovers trope, praise kink, body worship, masturbation, dry humping, filming

[ xdinary heroes masterlist | general masterlist ]

You always used to say that you’ll never make an only fans, but here you are - your account is all set up, you just need to make the first post.

“There’s no way you won’t blow up.” Your friend peeks at your phone.

You keep checking your profile although it’s still empty, and there’s nothing to look at except your name and the cheesy bio that you should definitely change with a new one before you upload anything.

“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous and your best friend is a professional photographer who doesn’t want your money.” Your friend keeps babbling while scrolling on her phone as you snack on a bag of chips together. “If that’s not a recipe for a successful only fans I don’t know what is. So when is the first shoot gonna be?”

“This Saturday.” You reply, just now realising how near the date is.

“Are you nervous?”

You look away from the screen, taken aback by her question.

“About what?”

“About getting butt naked in front of Jungsu?” She spits out, as if making her elaborate was super unnecessary.

For an unknown reason you start thinking over the question. Your friend stops chewing, staring at you intrigued.

“No…” You turn around to avoid her stare. “Of course not.”

Should you be nervous?

You’re making the last final touches of your makeup when Jungsu rings at your door.

He enters the hallway with a big backpack on his shoulders, an extra bag with equipment in hand and a warm smile. You want to help him out by taking something, but he tells you it’s heavy, so you step aside to give him space.

“Oh, what happened here?” He enters the living room after you, blinking impressed towards the small cozy spot you created right in front of the windows. His eye notices the different positions of some of the furniture right away.

Since you live on a high floor you doubt someone will catch a thing of what you’ll be doing, so you decided last minute to open the curtains and let the natural light come inside the space where you’ll take the photos. The fuzzy blanket on the floor, the vase with the flowers, the candles and cushions are all nicely lit up by the sun making it the perfect time to shoot.

“I moved a few things around last night to make the photos more interesting.” You talk as he inspects your decorations. “Is it too much?”

He turns to you after hearing the slight concern in your question. As he stands in the centre of the room with hands hidden in the pockets of his jeans, Jungsu for the first time since he walked in, allows himself to just stop and really look at you.

Is it because you haven’t seen each other in a while because you’ve been both busy with work and finals, or is it because the reality behind him being here is starting to sink in?

“No, I think it looks great actually.” Jungsu quickly mumbles like he’s trying not to get lost in his thoughts again. He squats down to unzip his bags. “You might make a good creative director.” He chuckles quietly, taking out his equipment one by one.

A moment later, after Jungsu has set up his camera in the right position with the appropriate settings and lights, he takes a step back, giving you a thumbs up.

“We can get started if you’re ready.”

“I just need to change, I’ll be quick.”

He mumbles you to take as much time as you need, watching you run to the sofa that’s now moved to the other side of the room. He didn’t expect you to change here so when he accidentally catches you pull down your sweats, he turns back around so quickly, as if he’s not about to actually photograph you half naked, and then eventually… completely naked.

He feels your familiar presence getting closer, but he’s too stunned to move a bone, and he hasn’t even seen you yet.

The second you appear in front of him he realises what a huge mistake was to agree to this. There’s no way he can spend an hour, or even more, cause things like this are time consuming, looking at you in this state - with your familiar gentle gaze sparkling with lust; with your gorgeous body swaying provocatively in front of the camera, bending in different positions that will be lit up by the sun, while the lingerie will do the worst job at covering up anything.

“I have a few poses in mind, but you better tell me if something doesn’t look okay.”

“Of course,” Jungsu responds in a lower tone after clearing his throat. He continues to speak while focusing on the camera. “You said you want a profile picture, right? Let’s do that first.”

You pick up loosely your hair as you face the camera, parting your lips slightly just like you’ve seen models in different magazines do.

“Lift your chin up a bit,” Jungsu mutters focused on the little screen, and without even realising his lips curl into a smile as you follow his instructions. “Yeah, pretty.”

The clicking sound rings in the room again.

You do a few more - with you biting on your nail; hands on your boobs; a side profile. Each snap is only another reminder of how in love Jungsu has been with you for the past what… almost six years?

Different poses follow up after you kneel on the blanket. Jungsu alternates between squatting and standing up to photograph you from a higher angle while hovering over you.

The closer he gets to you, the more his palms sweat against the camera. It’s surprising his hands haven’t started shaking yet. His mind is fully occupied by thoughts about how beautiful you are; your shape, your curves, and the fact complete strangers from different parts of the world will touch themselves while watching those exact same things he admires right now.

He notices your thumbs tug at the waistband of your panties, and his eyes immediately unfocuse from what he’s doing.

“I think we can move onto the video.” You say through a soft voice that effects him just as much as your next move that consists of swaying your hips left to right seductively while your fingers tease by tugging the lingerie lower and lower before bringing it back up.

Jungsu swallows while zooming at the view of your pussy peeking through the thin fabric. It’s just for a few seconds, but it brings pressure into his core that unfortunately he cannot ignore. He’s undeniably turned on.

He keeps recording as you lean slowly on your elbows, arching your spine like a cat. He starts to feel the fabric of his boxers pressing a bit too harshly on his cock when he’s suddenly standing behind your ass that’s up in the air.

“Jungsu,” your mellow sweet voice pulls him out of his trance. Hours could’ve passed since he started recording and he wouldn’t know, that’s how lost he is in this moment; in you. “Can I ask you to pull my panties down? For the video.”

He hesitates for a second. Is the camera catching his heartbeat? He feels like it’s banging too hard against his chest.

“Are you sure?” He peeks at you. Your head is resting on top of your hands, but after his next words you lift up on your palms, trying to take a look behind your shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t mind I—“

“No, silly,” you chuckle. “You’ll cut this part out, right?”

You smile, staring at the floor while the gentle brushing of Jungsu’s fingertips starts to linger on your hips. He’s so careful with every move it brings shivers down your spine.

He traces his knuckles up your back then glides them all the way down to your lower waist very slowly, making sure everything is caught on the screen. His fingers sneak under the string and tug down until the panties begin to expose more of the pretty shape of your ass.

His mouth waters at the sight. He would’ve never thought he’d find himself in this situation; that he’d be able to see you the way he does in his secret fantasies. True, this is all for your content, but he can feel you underneath his fingertips, and it feels like a dream.

Jungsu’s gaze alternates between watching your folds through the camera and outside of it. It’s time he does something else or he risks to leak through his underwear if he keeps staring into your pussy like that.

“Turn around.” His voice comes out as a whisper. He doesn’t even know why he suggests that. If you turn around he’s almost sure his heart will jump out of his body.

You shift on your back, and your eyes catch Jungsu’s darkened gaze. He looks uneasy, and not as concentrated as he was earlier, when he brings the camera back up close to his face.

You keep on the seductive look while biting on your bottom lip.

“You’re doing perfect,” he praises you, causing your eyes to glow even brighter from the compliment. “So beautiful, stay just like that.”

He moves backwards, as the sun hits the perfect parts of your figure just at the right angle, earning you even more effective shots.

You let out a chuckle when Jungsu notices your panties are tangled around your heels. He drops on his knees and removes them while keeping the video going.

“You can touch me.” You tell him, tilting your head. You’re not really sure what to do for this video anymore, and to be honest, a part of you misses the feeling of his hand on your skin.

Your lips open for a gasp, but nothing comes out, because his palm gliding on your inner thigh steals your breath. It most likely comes from the fact you’re standing with your legs spread wide in front of him…. naked. Both of you can see your tummy clenching as his fingertips trace light patterns on your skin, reaching closer to where you feel warm and wet at the same time. Eventually they trail away, not daring to go further.

The drunken state this put you in makes you bolder, and you take Jungsu’s hand, guiding it to your chest. This time you’re relieved to see he doesn’t hesitate to act on his desires.

“This makes things more interesting, right?” Your question comes out airy from the way he squeezes your breast through the lacy bra.

You both stare at each other for a moment, trying to figure out if you understand the question the same way.

Jungsu nods, moving the camera in the direction of his roaming hand which goes up your cleavage, your neck and stops at your lips. His thumb swipes them lightly to feel enough of their texture without messing up your lipstick.

“You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous.” Jungsu’s breathing turns uneven as your teeth graze his finger before he pulls it back.

He’s kneeling between your legs, so hypnotised by your pretty face that he’s memorised like the back of his hand, but yet, feels completely new to him right now, that he doesn’t notice when your hand starts to rub slow circles on your clit.

At this point he cannot do anything about the tent in his pants. His erection throbs and yearns while he films your lower body sat on the fuzzy blanket. After a moment of you touching yourself, the silence in the room grows intense from an obvious squelching sound - clear lewd noises begin to emerge from you, and not a minute later Jungsu notices that your folds are glistening.

“Jungsu,” a moan spills from your lips; one with his name, that makes even breathing a difficult task.

“Y/N… Shit, you’re so wet.” Jungsu utters, as he regains a better grip on his camera, although caring about the quality of the video is long neglected thanks to your arousal and the way you call his name.

For a moment he wonders if you’re asking him for something. If you’re provoking him. However, he quickly tunes back into his own reality again, - he’s a friend helping out a friend.

“Keep going, you look perfect.” His dreamy voice encourages your hand to move faster, reaching for your peak while simultaneously building up the bubbling pressure in his tummy too. “Your body is so perfect, you’re perfect…” Jungsu’s thoughts that have been clouding his mind from the start begin to burst out on their own.

Your body squirms the second you stop your fingers in one place to delay your orgasm. The camera records your overwhelmed panting, and each flinch of your muscles that anticipate the sweet burst of energy.

You observe your friend who seems just as excited as you, and your attention lowers to his crotch, or more specifically the big vivid bulge underneath the black denim.

“Is it true?” You lean closer, placing your hands on his thighs. “Do you really think I’m perfect?”

He doesn’t hesitate to say the truth, nor he needs time to think about his answer.

“In every possible way.”

You both recognise a new spark in each other’s eyes, one you’ve never exchanged before.

Jungsu’s brows knit together for a moment when you distance yourself back from him.

“Kiss me then.”

Jungsu leaves the camera on the floor not bothering to waste time by turning it off, and crawls on top of you. Your legs hug his hips while the rest of you easily gets used to the nice feeling of his weight pressing against you.

Your lips cannot separate from each other. You kiss deeply and sensually, making up for all these months you spent secretly fighting back against your own cravings. The pleasure flows even stronger through your veins, causing Jungsu to welcome each and every one of your small whimpers inside his mouth.

You break the moment to catch your breath when you get the idea to switch places.

You take a seat on Jungsu’s crotch after he relaxes on his back, attaching hands to your hips. The simple thrill from your weight suddenly on top of his erection shoots intensely through his core, and he groans before you even press against it properly.

You grind once, shutting your eyes closed at the immediate pleasure, then repeat the same move, watching Jungsu’s expression change in a euphoric state.

“Yeah,” Jungsu moans again, but louder, feeling his cock throb inside his clothes, “yeah, like that, baby.”

The friction coming from the rough denim fabric is so strong and effective, it provokes you into instantly speeding up your movements back and forth. The lucent slick spreads onto Jungsu’s clothed bulge, as you put in the effort to reach both of your peaks while rubbing your clit on the stiff shape. He is so immensely hard, that you don’t need to apply much force in your humping to heighten the stimulation. One normal swaying of your hips is just enough, but with each passing second Jungsu’s desperation becomes thinner.

“Fuck, gorgeous…” His hands drag higher on your waist, quickening the way you move on his cock. His fingers dig in your flesh emphasising his needs. “Faster—“

You listen to his pleading tone, and with palms underneath his t-shirt for support, you fasten the pace.

Jungsu’s hazed gaze trails up and down your mesmerising body after he lifts up on his elbows to appreciate the view better, especially the one of your breasts pushed together from the position of your arms.

The hitched pants and whimpers escaping your mouth melt into longer moans as you get dangerously closer to fall apart, but the burning exhaustion of your legs slows you down. Jungsu sits up, digging back into your lower half with his fingertips, not letting the sensation slip away.

You wrap an arm around his broad shoulders, as he helps you ride out your high. His open mouth covers your neck with kisses while you shake on top of him, pressed down as hard as possible by his strong grip. Your voice cracks in the middle of your orgasm that muddles your mind, but not enough to not realise Jungsu cums at the same time as you.

“Aah, f-fuck, ‘m gonna—“ his weakened voice is lost, muffled in the crook of your neck, but it still rings so captivating in your mind, clearing out everything except the thought of him.

Your fingers tug tightly at his shirt as your arms stay around him. You listen to his elevated moan; how it becomes less heavy till all that’s left from it is just panting from relief which warms up your already sweating skin.

While the warm release soaks his underwear, Jungsu slows down the motion of your hips, slightly bucking up his own, as his climax washes off.

You stay in each other’s embrace for a while; the only thing filling the silence is the sound of your own heartbeat till Jungsu whispers in your ear.

“I want to see you.”

His hands leave your body, so you can lay down, allowing him to take a nice look between your legs. The sight of your intimate lips is even more arousing with your skin coloured in light red from the fabric of his jeans; your entrance clenching around air, begging to feel him inside.

You humm from delight when Jungsu pushes half of his middle finger in, gliding through your walls with ease from so much slickness. His ring finger goes in next, stretching you out in the most pleasant way. It feels soothing, laying like that on the floor while he freely moves his digits so slowly like he has all the time in the world. You don’t even realise the camera is back in his hand until he speaks out.

“This is just for me.” He says, meaning the footage of the way you’re squeezing around his slick fingertips.

As time passed, the sunlight sneaking through the window turns much more subtle, and now it invites new shadows to fall over your silhouette, making it even more seductive and addictive for the eyes.

“It’s all for you,” you say back.

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise for any mistakes i’ve might missed

[levi-venn]

Accolades - Part Three (Final)

Timeline: A Year after the final escape from Mount Tantiss.

Summary: Omega receives her own Accolades.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three Available on AO3

“You made all of these?” Omega asked, studying the five decorated boxes in front of her. 

“Mmhm.” Hunter sat beside Omega, letting the quiet moment settle as she absorbed all he had told her.

He wanted to present these five boxes as a happy little exercise made by a brother who had love and pride for his squad. 

Of course she had questions.

“Why haven’t I seen these before?”

“Did Tech get to see his accolades?”

“Why didn’t you give these boxes to your brothers earlier?”

They were hard questions to answer, but good ones. Whether she meant to or not, Omega's unflinchingly honest questions always put things into perspective for Hunter. To his surprise, he felt his heart heal more and more with each answer he gave, while their brothers sat in the circle and listened.

“It was painful to look at them after Crosshair left the squad”

“No…Tech never saw his accolades.”

“I planned to give them to my brothers after the war ended.”

Omega closed each of the boxes, except for one which had remained untouched.

The brothers had all agreed not to open Tech’s box, but they didn’t want to tell what Omega would do. As always she would do what she felt was right.

Omega picked up Tech’s box. She leaned against Crosshair as her fingers traced over the digital skull. Admittedly, seeing Omega and Crosshair bond like this would've kicked up jealousy in Hunter's chest like a gritty dust storm. In the end, after a lot of self-reflection, he recognized that Omega and Crosshair's bond was just as strong as his own with Omega. Just different. It was different with everyone in Omega's life. She went to Hunter to be comforted, and she went to Crosshair to commiserate. She went to Echo for deep conversations and to Wrecker to forget her worries. Her bond with each of her siblings was all equally important and Hunter wouldn't have it any other way.

“Are you going to open it?” Crosshair asked, breaking the silence, sitting stock still, as if to provide a pillar for her to lean on.

Omega shook her head. “It doesn’t feel right. This isn’t for me, it’s for him. And he was always particular about not sharing his stuff.”

She looked up at Hunter suddenly and it took him a moment to realize she was looking for approval.

Hunter smiled. “We felt the same way.”

Omega looked up at her brothers. “You haven’t opened it either?”

Wrecker, Echo, and Crosshair shook their heads. 

“Eh, it’s like you said,” Wrecker said, rubbing the back of his head. “just didn’t feel right.” Then Wrecker perked up. “Can we show her the surprise now?”

“There's a surprise?” Omega gasped, sitting up straight.

“Is there a surprise?” Hunter asked with a growing grin, unable to resist teasing his brother and sister who were now both bouncing excitedly.

“Ugh, Hunter you knowww,” Wrecker whined.

"Show me," Omega whined, too.

“He's kriffing with you two,” Crosshair rolled his eyes. “Go get it, Wrecker.”

“Yeah!!” Wrecker hopped up and went to Hunter's armor tote and pulled out a silver coffer painted with a pink energy crossbow and a lurca hound paw print. 

“You made this for me?!” Omega gasped, taking the box from Wrecker.

“It was long overdue," Hunter said.

“Yeah, you've done a lotta wizard things since you joined us!” Wrecker said.

“We all pitched in and created some medals and ribbons for you, too.” Hunter said.

“And only one fight broke out,” Echo said, dryly.

“No blood this time, I hope,” Omega grinned, hugging the box.

“Just glitter.” Crosshair sneered at Wrecker.

“He aimed at my head,” Wrecker pouted, turning to reveal a patch of silver sparkles on his bald head. “I’ll never get it out.”

“You shouldn't have tried to steal it from me,” Crosshair shrugged, his toothpick flicking like a serpent’s tongue. “Silver's my color.”

Hunter nudged Omega. “Go ahead and open it.”

“My accolades are the best,” Crosshair said, confidently.

“But look at mine first!” Wrecker said, giving Crosshair a rough shoulder bump.

Omega opened the lid. “Whoa...”

The boys had outdone themselves. Arts and crafts weren’t exactly their forte, but they knew how to put colors together. Yellow, gray, and blue ribbons, painted scrap metal, and colorful ripped fabrics handsewn together and...glitter. A shocking amount of glitter, though that was probably due to the Great Glitter Battle that took place in Hunter's living room.

Omega picked up a medal that barely fit in the chest. It was a tarnished metal disk painted yellow with a message burned into the surface. Four long chains dangled over her fingers as Omega read the message: "Most Mantel Mix eaten in a minute! I remember that day!"

“Ugh, that Mantel Mix,” Echo huffed. “You two were the reason we owed Cid so many credits.”

“Hah, worth it though,” Wrecker laughed. “But it wasn't a fair fight, I had already eaten four boxes before that challenge.”

“I warned you I’d win,” Omega grinned, sheepishly.  “Though, I guess we both kinda lost because of how sick we were afterwards.”

“Oh yeah. I remember,” Hunter said. Omega had curled up in his lap with what she describe as "the worst tummy ache of her life."

Omega took her time looking at each medal, giggling, giving sudden hugs, and excitedly recounting each adventure with her brothers. 

When she picked up one of Crosshair’s ribbon, she read the inscription and flashed their youngest brother a secretive smile.

Crosshair sneered back.

Hunter squinted. “What’s it say?”

“Nothing,” Crosshair and Omega said at the same time.

Hunter laughed and rolled his eyes. “Right…Always gotta keep an eye on you two these days.”

“You’d have to find us first!” Omega said, cheerfully, then looked to Crosshair for approval. Crosshair gave her a wink.

“Hey, I'm a tracker, remember?” Hunter poked Omega’s ribs. She laughed and scooted closer to Hunter, leaning against him while she put the medal away and picked up a new one. “This one says ‘Winning the Most Credits in Under an Hour'.”

Hunter narrowed his eyes at Crosshair. “Hang on. What do you mean ‘Winning’? You took her gambling?”

“Actually, I took him gambling,” Omega said, gazing up at Hunter with her “sweet smile” that always got her out of trouble with Hunter. “But it was for a good cause!” 

"I'm sure it was."

“This one next,” Echo prompted, tapping a hyper realistic version of an Arc Trooper's medal. Hunter realized that Echo must have donated one of his own medals to the box.

Omega read the message silently, her face lighting up like a Pabu Sunrise before she lunged towards Echo.

Hunter caught the message: To Omega: Best Hugs in the Batch.

“Oh what, that medal doesn't go to Wrecker?” Hunter smirked.

“Ugh, no. Wrecker nearly crushes me to death with his hugs.”

“You mean like this?” Wrecker grabbed his entire family and pulled them all into a giant, crushing hug.

“Like that,” Echo wheezed, making exaggerated choking sounds.

Omega giggled and hugged back.

 Crosshair and Hunter sighed in the exact same way and shared a smile. They’ve been tolerating these hugs since they were kids.

“Guess that just leaves mine,” Hunter said when Wrecker finally freed them.

Omega pulled out the medals Hunter made. She read each of them quietly. 

“Hunter,” she said, her eyes brimming with tears.

“What do they say?” Wrecker asked.

Omega started to cry.

“What the hell, Hunter,” Crosshair snarled, bristling. “You made her cry.”

“No, no, they're happy tears,” Omega sniffled and raised her arms up to Hunter. 

He knew that one day soon she’d be too old to hold like this, but for now, he scooped her up in his arms and held her protectively. She clutched the medal to her chest. 

“Proud of you, kid,” Hunter said, quietly. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

The medal was a triangular fabric pin with a silver star against the starry black background, black paint flecked with white. In gray paint it said. “The best daughter in the galaxy”.

One by one, the brothers peeked at the medal and their expressions all softened as if realizing that they felt the same way Hunter did. 

Hunter had always had brothers, and brothers made a squad.

But when Omega showed up, she made them a family.

The boys gathered around, joining in on the hug…this time Wrecker didn’t choke anyone out, Crosshair didn’t complain, Echo didn’t huff. They just existed, thankful for the time they had together. 

Tag List:

A special thank you to @dragonrider9905 @yeehawgeek, @cw80831 for requesting a sequel.

A special thank you to @kybercrystals94 for seeking this fic out.

[rachetmath]

Jaune's Last Man

(Hi sorry this has been my head and I completely forgot about this so let me end this with a kicker. A rap you may say. If you need a recap or you don’t know what this is about....he links here.;

Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/rachetmath/681709097493659648/ilia-blake-i-want-to-come-with-you-blake-ilia?source=share

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/rachetmath/683991434179805184/can-we-please-get-a-sequel-to-the-post-about-jaune?source=share

Part 3: https://www.tumblr.com/rachetmath/688883250974916608/so-i-know-ow-you-said-you-dont-normally-do?source=share)

Jaune: Mercury.

Mercury: Vomit Boy. How’s it hanging?

Jaune: I’m doing fine.

Mercury: Really? I mean since you killed your friend. Your girlfriend dead. And Atlas. I would think you be in a site of depression.

Jaune: Yeah. Except I’m in state of rage.

Mercury; Oh.

Jaune: I mean I haven’t seen my family in years to where I can barely remember their faces. I watched thousands of innocent people die. I was betrayed by someone I wanted to call friend. All because of my stupidity.

Mercury: Wow finally admit it. You don’t know what your doing.

Jaune: Still don’t… but I’ll take my chances.

Mercury: So what are you going to do torture me.

Jaune: Haha no. Of course not. Ladies.

Neo and Ilia walks into the room. Neo before she took a seat on the table, she gives Jaune a kiss on cheeks while Ilia a has weapon to Mercury’s neck. Mercury was still shocked with Neo.

Jaune: Alright. Let us begin. I’m here to make a deal.

Mercury: A deal?

Jaune: You bet. I want you on my team.

Ruby: What?

Jaune: Yes.

Mercury: Why?

Jaune: We need someone like you on our side. Guys like you come in very short supply.

Mercury: That doesn’t give me much of a reason. Why should I give you allegiance?

Jaune: I’m willing to give something that can’t refuse.

Mercury: Please, your not even giving me a right to choose.

Jaune: *sigh* Ilia.

Ilia removes her weapon and sits down.

Jaune: Fine, I’ll play by rules. Look, I understand. Your father he was bad man. But brother he’s dead.

Mercury: I know.

Jaune: I know it was by own hands. I get it wasn’t easy but you fail to get-

Mercury: Is?

Jaune: That you can be better. So much clever. Do really want to stay in his shadow forever?

Mercury: Please. Who are you to judge me? If I recall correctly didn’t you cheat. You went to a school filled with talent. With nothing to show but empty promises and values. You talk a big game but you can’t measure up. Face it bud, your only here because of luck.

Jaune: …. ….

Mercury: Got nothing to say. Guess the fun is over. No more debates. I guess I’m done now prison await. Besides Salem offered me world on a plate what’s better than that?

Jaune: Okay, little man, so what’s your plan?

Mecury: What?

Jaune: Yeah, little man, what’s you plan?

Mercury: I mean-

Jaune: What’s your plan? Tell me, little man, what you gone do when you got the world in your hands? You get all money and get some respect. You make yourself sound like you really are a threat. Yes its true, your right about me. I did what it took to follow my dreams. But now look at me. I am all three. Money, Power and respect. A threat guaranteed. I lost many people but yet I still breath. Yet I still believe in what we can achieve.

Mercury: … … …. What are you saying to me?

Jaune: We’re nothing like them.

Mercury: What do you want from me?

Jaune: Show me your bravery. Leave it all BEHIND and make history.

Mercury: But I-

Jaune: You’re nothing like him.

Mercury: I’m-

Jaune: You can still be better.

Emerald: *burst in door* And if your not sure we can explore it together. We’ll have each other.

Jaune: And if you believe-

Mercury: Believe?

Jaune: In yourself.

Emerald: And me.

Jaune and Emerald: There’s nothing you can’t achieve.

Mercury: Really?

Jaune: Right.

Emerald: You can fly. Again. Sore the sky. Again.

Jaune: Away from sun. Together with us. We can make history. Forge our destiny. Our story will be legendary. So-

Jaune: *pulls his hand out* What do you say?

Mercury: Hmm. Well-

Jaune: Yes, you will paid.

Mercury: And?

Jaune: Yes, come man, what do you say?

Mercury: *shakes Jaune’s hand* Alright you got a deal compadre.

RWBY: Dang.

Oscar: They went play by play.

Nora: So Jaune? Tell us, what’s now the team’s name?

Jaune JMNI. What do you all think?

Mercury: I got say, it’s got nice ring to.

Ilia: I accept the team name. No mistake.

Neo: *agrees with smile*

Jaune: Guess we agree. But before we celebrate we have demonstrate, how useful we are, leave no trace to debate. So let’s start on our first case. What do you say?

Mercury, Ilia and Neo(with a sign): Bring it.

Jaune: Oh this will be great.

Nora: Can we stop rhyming.

[grunkle-no-more-colombian-nights]

AO3 is down so this is here earlier than there 😭 enjoy❤️

No More Colombian Nights - Mindwalk

Snores echoed off the walls of the underground lab as Ford sat, staring at his own fine script on the paper in front of him for a moment before crumpling it up and tossing it with the multiple other attempts at an apology by his feet. It had been a couple of days since they had recovered Honey and there had been little progress. She had been contained in a tank of Fiddleford’s design from years before. Ford was a bit surprised certain things had held up so well after everything. Beyond what Stanley had broken throughout the years, and the rest of the things that had broken last year during the incident, he was amazed anything had survived. But of course, Fidd’s always had a way of amazing him with his inventions.

He turned his attention to his buzzsaw sounding brother, who, much to his annoyance, also had not left the lab for those two days except for the occasional bathroom break. Stanley had refused to move from the side of the tank, deciding rather to watch, forlorn as Honey huddled into the corner, only occasionally moving to violently launch herself against the front pane if he stood too close. Her eyes gave Ford a shiver. They looked like a shark, dark and shiny, with no sense of emotion or soul behind them as she stared out into the lab at him while Stanley slept for the first time in nearly forty eight hours. The last time she had done it she had split her own lip, smearing blood across the glass as she did, making an unsettling sight.

It had taken more than a three person dose of tranquilizer aerosolized into Stanley’s AC unit to finally get her to lay down. They had tried to keep the kids from seeing her, but as Stanley carried her limp body back into the house, they clamored around regardless. Wendy, normally strong and stable in the face of distress, let out a gasp, followed by quiet tears when she saw her cousins bruised and bound body. Soos lead the kids out before they could get a good view, knowing nothing good could come of seeing her in that state. Mable’s face had fallen in a way he knew she had already seen too much.

That had been a little more heartbreaking than he had expected. It was not a good feeling to disappoint the kids. And even though he was not by any measure fond of the creature, somehow her crumpled being felt like his own failure. In the hours since the incident he had tried to call the McGucket mansion to no avail, no one had been home since, it seemed. The possibility that Fiddleford did not want to talk to him had also occurred. He refused to acknowledge that thought as long as possible. But by the second night it had crept in all the same, gnawing at his confidence with each passing minute.

Grabbing a new piece of paper, Ford stared blankly at the ivory sheet for a few minutes before groaning and getting up, finding a slow paced walk around his lab. Stan snuffed and grunted as he woke up violently, jumping forward with fists raised before sighing and sliding back down into the chair he had been occupying. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, adjusting his glasses again before leaning forward to look into the tank. Honey had covered herself in her pelt, curled in a very small ball, seeming to be asleep for now. That seemed to relieve Stanley to some degree, the deep worry lines around his eyes relaxing slightly as he cleared his throat and looked towards Ford.

“Has she been up at all?” He asked gruffly, his voice a little creaky from sleep.

“No, you’ve only been asleep for a few hours. She’s been covered the entire time.” Ford sighed back. “She seems to be in traumatic shock. It’s hard to say how long she will be this way. I expected a creature like her to be able to slip in and out of this vicious hunting mode. But I haven’t heard a word from her since we broke her out.”

“Can we use your mind reading machine for this?” Stan was no longer looking at him, rather clearly fixated on the subtle rising and falling of the pelt as she slept under it.

“Not without restraint. I worry she will injure herself or us before we made any progress with it.” Ford responded. He had contemplated trying to draw her out of it from inside her own mind, but it seemed too dangerous a possibility for a number of reasons. Not the least of which was that he didn’t trust she wasn’t exactly herself in that moment, a furious fae, angry at her hunt being interrupted. The old tales were often contrived, but specks of truth were always between the lines. He had never known fae to be anything less than tricky, and trended more towards deadly the more interest in humans they had.

Knocking her out again for long enough wouldn’t be an option either. It took such a large amount the time before he worried she wouldn’t wake up. Not to mention how fast it wore off. It was a much more difficult situation than Ford cared for already. Stanley was not one to be swayed easily once his mind was set to something. Normally selfish with his time and energy, Stanley had even surprised Ford in his reluctance to leave the responsibility of watching over her to him.

It was hard to say when or even if the shock would abate. And if it didn’t, what would they do then? They wouldn’t be able to keep her in there forever, or at least Ford did not want to do that. But he doubted Stanley would let this die easily, his fierce gaze confirming what he already knew was true. She had settled comfortably into his heart, filling a void Stanley dearly could not allow to exist comfortably again. Too many things at odds with each other, meaning decision making was an hour by hour discussion.

The elevator to the lab caught their attention as it slowly made its way down from the main floor. Ford sighed in relief when it was Soos that appeared in the opening doorway. Stan’s eyes only traveled as far as making sure it wasn’t either of the kids before his attention went back to watching the rising and falling of the pelt.

“Hey dudes, how is she?” Soos’ eyes watered slightly any time he came down to check. It was clear Ford was in the minority when it came to questionable opinions on her. Ford flexed his jaw a little as he watched another fallen face focus on the tank.

“No changes yet.” Ford mumbled, letting out a small breath to himself. He went to Stanley’s side, placing his heavy hand on his brother’s broad shoulder. “Stanley, we should go to my study. It’s time to do the walk.”

Stanley felt weary beneath his palm, worn down in exhaustion and worry as he met his eyes.

“Uh yeah…sure, Sixer.” He nodded, looking torn at having to leave her for any amount of time. “Will it be long?”

“Depends on how much I have to comb through.” Ford shrugged, unsure really how to answer that question. He’d never had to deprogram someone like this before. He wasn’t even fully sure how much he could alter through Stanley’s memories. Or how objective they would really be through his brother’s eyes. But it would be worth a shot. Stanley stood, straightening out his back as he groaned loudly. Ford averted his eyes, trying to ignore his brother’s choice of attire. Or really lack there of as he lounged around in his wife beater, striped boxers and slippers. He really had no shame.

Soos followed them up the elevator, their trip short as they entered Ford’s previously secret study. He breathed deeply, always enjoying the smell of old leather, bound books and nice wood that encapsulated his little sanctuary. It was easy to get himself lost in the cozy room. On the other wall stood his refashioned machine, ready with two helmets now to meld the mindscape and allow him to walk through his brother’s mind. Ford took another deep breath, steeling his own mind to the idea of what he may see. Stanley plopped ungracefully into one of the leather chairs that sat in the room, near enough to the machine Ford could put his helmet on.

“Let’s do this, Sixer. When she comes out of this I don’t want her to be alone.” When. That was a loaded word, Ford thought, only deepening the concern his brother was far more hopeful than he was of that prospect.

“Put that helmet on next to you. I’ll put the other one on. Soos, once we’re both properly connected I will need you to coordinate the travel through Stanley’s mind. Here on the screen you can input a subject. In this case, Honey. You can help move along anything that doesn’t suit what we’re looking for by pressing this button. That should take us where I’ll be able to see what Stanley saw. It will render us both unconscious for the period of time the machine is activated, so keep it limited to what we have to do. I don’t want to spend an eternity walking through Stanley’s mind. Once we’re done pull me out.”

“Yeah, not like I’m askin’ ya to.” Stanley mumbled as he rubbed his sleep laden eyes. “Can’t you just go back to a few nights ago?”

“Memories are not always tethered correctly to time or space. It’ll be easier to index by person, place or thing and work your way through that. Otherwise you may end up lost.” Ford spoke officiously.

“You got it, Dr. Pines.” Soos said, giving a little salute.

“You can just call me Ford, Soos.” He said dismissively as he adjusted some of the wires that connected to the machine, not having ever felt very comfortable with the moniker of doctor,. “If anything goes wrong, or we need to be pulled out asap, push this button.” Ford gestured to a yellow square button on the very edge of the keyboard that read caution. Soos nodded with all the seriousness he could muster. Ford took his place in another chair, fixing his own helmet to his head. It tingled on his scalp as the energy flowed through it. He had always trusted McGucket’s calculations, hoping his trust had not been misplaced this time as he imagined being electrocuted in a particularly gruesome fashion. One more deep breath.

“Ok, Soos, send me in.” With that Soos hit the input button, sending radiating pulses through Fords skull. It was an unnerving feeling that quickly saw the world melting back before becoming blindingly white. Suddenly and without warning it felt as if his body was being sucked through a portal again, the force unbelievable before it stopped and he stumbled blindly into a dark room with pulsating music and bright dance lights. Ford’s eyes widened as a familiar face, flowing long blond hair with nearly nothing on looked entirely shocked as she looked down at a single patron who wore his brother’s old coat…

The patron rose quickly, rushing to the bathroom, drawing Ford along with him. He felt compelled, unable to see anything other than what his brother was seeing that night, just from a weird out of body perspective. He felt like a ghost, wandering through the ether of reality. His brother’s face however, quickly drew him out of his awed observation, unable to not comment on the busted face that reflected in the dirty club mirror.

“God, you look like shit. What happened to you?” Ford mumbled to himself. Much to his surprise however, Stanley spoke back, seeming too aware of his brother’s presence as they traipsed through his memories.

“Fuck you. You’re not even supposed to be here.” He spoke with venom, clearly having just been beaten well within an inch of hospitalization.

“Sorry. I didn’t realized I’d be taking a grand tour of you getting your ass handed to you.” Ford prodded ungenerously. Stanley growled, running his hand through his thick, long chestnut mullet, his eye completely swollen shut as he pushed past Ford and back out onto the floor. Ford followed as things dematerialized behind Stanley, the world only appearing as he remembered it from thirty years before. It was a smoke hazed place, filled with scummy men and a flurry of working women, jostling and laughing loudly as Stanley made his way to an empty table. Ford sat next to him, observing the room as his brother pulled out a cigarette. His gaze moved rapidly up Honeys form as she materialized next to the table, perched over it so her chest was well displayed in his brother’s face.

A couple shots and a cup of ice was placed in front of them as she smiled, her normal heated sugary vanilla smell invading the space as they bantered flirtatiously back and forth. Ford grimaced as he tried to keep his gaze higher than her chest, noting the lack of attire in the entire place. He was a bit amazed though, she really looked no different, the same easy smile on plump lips and steel blue eyes shining out of the heart shaped face of a woman in her mid to late twenties. He was a poor guesser at ages though.

“You could have warned me. You would frequent places like this. The floors are sticky.” He grumbled as Honey’s curvy frame moved away from the table. He saw that stupid look his brother got any time he saw a woman he particularly admired. Some things really never changed. “No wonder she singled you out, you were smitten as soon as she spoke to you.” Ford rolled his eyes.

“I thought you were in here to decide on if she’s dangerous or not.” Stanley grumbled back as he slammed the two shots before standing and moving back outside. Ford followed reluctantly, this was much farther back than he had wanted to delve. Stanley slid some of the ice out of the glass Honey had given him, holding it to his bruised and swollen eye as he moved to his old car, leaning up against it with an exhausted slump as he reached it.

“I am, but I have no control over where it takes me specifically. Your first memories of her are here, so it brought me here.” Ford shrugged,unsure how else to explain why it brought him so far back. “I promise I don’t want to be here any more than you want me here.” Stanley rolled his one good eye, his annoyance palpable as they stood in the quiet night outside the club, the music pulsing through the walls as they stood in the small pool of light the street lamp afforded.

A scream cut through the quiet of the night, his blood running cold before his meathead of a brother was off, full bore in the direction it had come from. Ford jogged behind, coming upon a scene he had not expected. Honey was curled near the ground, a small ball that had become more familiar than her actual face in the last couple of days as Stanley, much more his usual self, knocked a large man unconscious that had clearly attacked the shivering girl. Ford continued to watch the scene unfold as she chucked the badge and wallet down the ally, her ripped and bloodied white lingerie leaving little to the imagination as she moved to charm. As soon as she had slipped back inside, he mirrored his brother’s pose against the wall, leaning up against the cold brick as he stared at the stars.

“No wonder she has you wrapped around her finger. A half naked girl handing you cash. Pfft. Like you dreamed her up, huh?” He joked slightly, taken off guard by the genuine moment of vulnerability he had witnessed between the two. She had seemed significantly weaker in these earlier years than she was now. He pondered the possibility of her acting weak to get his help, but he saw little reason to believe she let herself get that hurt for the sake of trapping his brother. Stanley tensed his jaw a bit as he stood, pondering. What exactly though, he was not sure.

“Unless you’re lookin’ for a show, you may want to figure out how to speed run some of these memories.” Stanley warned, the sound of the back door drawing his attention as Honey stood, observing for a moment Stanley’s still form in the ally. Before Ford could ask what he meant by that, Honey was back out and they were off in the Stanley mobile, speeding like a bat out of hell down the dark highway. Ford sat uncomfortably in the back seat as best he could, awkwardly sitting over all of the junk in his brother’s car, realizing quickly Stanley must have been living in it. That guilt hit like a train.

For some reason Ford had always imagined his brother rolling in money from scamming everyone in whatever fifty mile radius he lived in. Or maybe a drug kingpin or mobster’s right hand man. Nothing glamorous of course, but not homeless and beaten like a stray dog. It was a bit gut wrenching as he looked over the various adds and personal items scattered about the floor, his entire life seemingly in a small duffle bag just a foot away. He also couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the intense flirtation happening in the front seat, or notice the fact that he had given a false name to her. Stanley’s hesitation at her questions was subtle, but he knew when his brother was lying all too well. He could see it in the way she repeated him that she did not buy it either.

Unfortunately, as they parked and found their way to the hood of the car, it became all too apparent as to why Stanley told him to speed run the memory. Honey’s writhing body against the glass of the windshield and her hands traveling his brother’s body was enough to make him want to yell. This was not anticipated, although it probably should have been. He spoke into the quiet of the empty car, hoping Soos would be just as uncomfortable and move the memory along too.

“We could probably do without examining this too closely.” Ford sighed heavily, trying to avoid even listening to the sounds emanating from outside. Another odd feeling, like being sucked through time and space again made the world blur around him as Soos thankfully moved him to the next morning, and once again further than that. Ford sat quietly now through it all as he became privy to their private conversations and intimate feelings, muddled uncomfortably between more lurid moments he desperately begged to not be witness to. Thankfully, Soos; also not one to want to voyeuristically peep in on those memories, opted to spare Ford more often than not. That, however did not always stop them from popping in mid-tryst, much to everyone’s clear dismay.

As Ford walked through those two first weeks, things felt more clear, and yet somehow more complicated. Stanley, much to his surprise this time, was telling the truth. At least by his memory, she had been nothing but sweet and helpful to him in those early days. And as he sat next to his disheveled and broken brother on that dirty bed in the motel room they shared, he saw him mourn her loss, and harden as hours ticked away until the fateful day his postcard fluttered through the door. He didn’t want to watch what happened after that moment, knowing he would have to replay one of the most painful moments of their lives. He’d already done that in his own head enough for a lifetime, not sure he was strong enough to watch Stanley do it too.

“Soos, see if you can push me up to a few nights ago. I think I’ve seen more than enough here.” Ford’s own voice sounded exhausted, saddened by the things that could not be changed as the sucking feeling drew him through the mindscape again, dropping him sometime a week or two earlier on the dock. Stanley strolled along the beach of the lake, headed towards the boat though he was clearly looking at her cabin. Could his mind be any more easily distracted, Ford wondered as he walked closely behind.

Suddenly Stanley tensed before running to the other side of the boat. Honey, on the edge of consciousness and bleeding profusely over the pelt she carried with her, was naked and breathing lightly through her shuddering gasps in the sand next to their boat. The gash in her side was horrific, burned on the edges but oozing blood. A gunshot wound. It was concealed quickly as his brother scooped her up in his arms like she weighed nothing, whispering to her softly as he nearly kicked in her front door, laying her as gently as possible on the floor before he ran through her house, searching for something.

“She needs saved a lot.” He mumbled as Stanley came back with disinfectant, gauze and bandage, quickly going to work on her, trying to keep her from fading any further than she already had. The smell of metallic iron clung to the air, her blood soaking through one of Stanley’s wife beaters in a gruesome display as Ford observed the slapdash way his brother tried to cover the area. Honey’s body violently came back to life as he pressed the alcohol to her open wound, her claws flying through the air as Stanley expertly evaded them, pressing into her chest with his large palm to calm her before she did anything else.

“She’s been hunted her entire life. You and I both know what that does to a person…” Stanley commented as his memory played on, working through her whimpering pain before huddling her into an embrace he knew his brother tended to reserve purely for those closest to him, not one to be touchy feely on any regular basis. Another blinding moment before he was torn back to a few nights ago, confirming again what Stanley had said. She had only been protective, in the most violent nature possible, surely, but protective nonetheless. And he found himself guilty again as she crumpled to the ground, bleeding from an eardrum he was sure now he had probably ruptured accidentally in the scuffle.

It had been enough now, the context of their time together shedding at least some light on who she really was. Not all together an unkind creature, and one who clearly had some real feelings for his brother, but also one capable of intense destruction as well. It was a balancing act he knew all too well… but even with that, could she be trusted now?

“Birds of a feather…Soos, bring me out please.” Ford said as he felt the familiar pulses bringing him out and back into the study, much to his relief. That had been unexpected, but enlightening he supposed, but did not solve the current issues at hand. As he blinked slowly to reawaken, Stanley huffed and groaned next to him, removing his helmet before moving to the other end of the room, creating some distance after their minds walked too closely together. Ford grimaced as he commented wearily.

“Can you put some clothes on? I’ve seen more than enough of your ass for an eternity after that walkthrough.”

“Hey poindexter, next time let’s take a nice little jaunt through your first six years here in Gravity Falls. I’m sure I’ll have my own fun commentary for your life.” Stanley shot back, clearly not in the mood after that invasion of his mind. He didn’t wait for a response before starting his way back to the elevator though, anxious to be back at the tank. Soos took it in uncomfortably, not having anything to say on the sordid movie of events he just watched play out.

“We need to have a real discussion, Stanley.” Ford called as he followed his brother, Soos close behind as they descended their way to the lab again. Stanley looked hollowed by the experience, almost dissociated as the hum of the elevator took them down a floor quickly.

“We got time, Sixer. I just need to…” his voice choked off as they came back to an empty tank, blood smeared against the glass and walls where the vent above the tank had been ripped open. Honey, in all her feral nature had escaped through the ventilation and up into the house.

“Uhh dudes, this may be a bad time to bring this up, but the Summerween party is starting in less than a couple hours.” Soos chimed in, sounding sheepish as Ford ran to the tank to look up at the kicked out metal on the floor. She had somehow gotten it open just enough to wrench it free and struggle up the nearly vertical shaft, surely hurting herself further in the process of her escape. Stanley cursed, not bothering to wait for anyone or look at the damage before he was back in the elevator and headed up to the main house. With a party and half the town in their house and a feral, bloodied anomaly trying to escape, this was sure to be a disaster.

[missacidburn928]

Wicked Wednesday Goodies...

A new Crossover AU story is live on my ao3!

Go ahead. Click keep reading. I know you want to.

Let Me Spell It Out For You

Jax Teller x Rockstar!Reader "Firefly"

ExBf!Rockstar!Steve Rogers x Reader

It’s Battle of the Bands Night at your local hole in the wall bar run by SAMCROW. You're currently dating their prez Jax Teller. Your lifelong best friend and first real love. Somehow your ex, Steve Rogers and his band The Howlies have shown up, vying for top spot and the cash prize. Such a shame they’ll have to go against you and your all girl group Serenity. It’s going to be a verbal bloodbath and you can’t wait to humiliate his arrogant ass.

The energy in the bar was none short of chaotic. Between the loud music, the alcohol flowing and the rowdy mix of bikers and patrons it was looking to be a night to remember.

“I can not wait to get up on that stage and destroy some wannabes!” Zoey practically shouts while strapping on her electric guitar.

“Nothing beats that high,” I smile devilishly. “Well except for sex of course.”

We all laugh as we hear our band being called to the stage. “Next up, Serenity!”

It’s the first round of Battle of The Bands Night. I’m not worried about making it to the final round and grabbing the cash prize. Most bands here are so fresh they haven’t performed as a group much yet. So that leaves us at an advantage. We’ve been thick as thieves since high school when we used to skip class and jam out in my garage.

Not wanting to blow our load on the first round we chose to start with “Becky’s So Hot” to show off our sex appeal and my vocal talents. I may be singing about Becky, but in actuality it’s about the time in my life when Jax was dating Tara when he and I were broken up. 

I wanted to destroy her for having the audacity to be with him. While at the same time I wanted to know first hand what made her so special that he kept her around as more than just a lay. The feelings were so conflicting, the only way I could work through it was to put it into a song.

Fine, okay, I'll say, I went and stalked her

And I don't really blame you 'cause

Damn, the waist, the hips, the face, this is awkward

Are you in love like we were?

If I were you, I'd probably keep her

Makes me wanna hit her when I see her

'Cause Becky's so hot in your vintage t-shirt

Ooh, she the one I should hate

But I wanna know how she taste

I kinda wanna hit her when I see her

Becky's so hot in your vintage t-shirt

As we reach the interlude, my eyes catch the familiar frame of one Steven Grant Rogers. My ex and lead singer of The Howlies. Standing to his left, bass strapped to his chest, is of course Bucky Barnes. Steve’s best friend and cliché fuckboy musician. 

He happens to also be Zoey’s ex. This is going to be interesting to say the least. It’s been months since we’ve seen each other. Much less been in the same room competing to see who the better band is. 

It’s us of course. The Howlies are good. But they rely heavily on their good looks to fill seats. About 80% of their fans are of the female variety. Where ours is ratioed at about 60/40.

I turn to Zoey. She gives me a subtle nod. Acknowledging she’s aware of their presence and that it’s playtime.

I scan the crowd for my favorite blonde haired biker until I lock eyes with Jax just as the final chorus begins. I sing to him for a moment before turning my attention back to enticing the crowd into wanting to see more of us.

I sing the last line and drop a kiss to Zoey’s neck, as I stare down our exes. A challenge in my eyes. Tonight just got so much more entertaining. 

Continue...

[middleearthpixie]

Wanted Man ~ Chapter Five

Summary: A price on his head, Loki of Asgard finds himself stranded on Earth and in need of one woman's help in order to free himself from the bounty and try to reclaim what he sees as his rightful throne in Asgard.

McKenna Carlin just wanted to put a horrible day behind her. She had no idea that things would get worse before they get better…

Pairings:  Loki Laufeyson x ofc McKenna Carlin

Characters: McKenna, Loki  

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 4k

Tag List: @fizzyxcustard @court-jobi @guardianofrivendell @piggledy-higgledy @evenstaredits

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here! 

What she’d hoped would be a quick breakfast at the diner turned into anything but as Loki's eyes practically popped from their sockets as he read the menu. His first taste of bacon led to a four-course breakfast of eggs, pancakes, French toast (she thought he might actually cry when he tasted it with maple syrup), bacon, sausage, and hash browns. She’d never seen a man eat the way he did and it was nothing short of amazing that he managed to put so much food away. She was pretty sure her credit card actually groaned when she paid for breakfast and managed to drag him away from the dessert carousel at the front of the diner. 

“You can’t possibly still be hungry,” she grumbled, grabbing him by the hand to pull him away.

“You’d be amazed,” he replied, but allowed her to steer him out the door to her waiting Honda. “I had no idea how well Midgardians ate.”

“Trust me, there was nothing even close to eating well in what you had. And where did you put it all?” She unlocked the Accord and slid in behind the wheel.

Loki sank into the passenger seat with the heavy sigh of a well-fed bear. “So, where do we go next?”

“You need the basics. Jeans. Socks. Underwear. So, we’re heading to the mall.”

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “The mall it is.”

She glanced over at him as she maneuvered through the traffic on Route 18. It was always heavy near the mall and today was no exception. But finally, she pulled into the parking lot and managed to find a space. With any luck, finding Loki suitable clothes would be relatively painless.

And it was. He was perfectly amenable to any suggestions, which was nice for a change since Joe was always a very particular shopper with particular tastes. And what was nicer still? He didn’t mind sharing the load when it came to carrying everything. In fact, when she’d reach to take the short stack of jeans from him, he drew back with an, “I’m quite capable, you know.”

Finally, when they’d amassed enough clothing for what seemed like half of the people in Brunswick, McKenna blew a wayward tendril out of her eyes and said, “Maybe you should try something on now?”

To her relief, he nodded. “I probably should, yes. And where do I do this?”

“Come with me and I’ll show you.” She wove her way through the racks and stacks to the back of the store and the dressing rooms. “Just take something and go in one of the little rooms. I’ll wait right here.”

“Shouldn’t you accompany me?”

Heat flashed through her and she had to bite back the word yes as it pressed against her lips. “No. It’s okay. The rooms are barely big enough for one person and since you’re a little bigger than most of us… well… we’d probably get to know each other a little too well, if you know what I mean.”

His dark brows pulled low. “I’m afraid I don’t, actually. I haven’t the foggiest idea of what you mean.”

“Just… trust me, okay? You’ll be fine on your own.” She handed him the pile of clothes and gave him a little push. “I’ll be right here when you come out. And remember, go slow with the zippers.”

He nodded and off he went, while she paced about just outside the dressing rooms like a nervous mother. When he emerged, he was wearing new Levis, with a plain black tee shirt stretched across his broad chest, and she smiled. He cleaned up nicely. Still looked a little battered, but otherwise… 

“These jeans are stiff. Are they supposed to be?” he asked, walking a bit bowlegged in her direction, as if he’d just gotten off a horse.

“They will until we wash them. Don’t worry. Eventually, they’ll be like a second skin. And nice and soft, like the ones I gave you.”

He smiled. “You are very kind, McKenna. I appreciate it. Not many people show me kindness.”

“Well, that’s kind of what happens when you kill and maim people.” She held his stare easily, but still breathed an inward sigh of relief when he slowly nodded.

“Yes, I suppose it does. Would it make a difference if I had a good reason?”

“I don’t think so.” She gestured to his dressing room. “You should go change back, if you’re done trying things on.”

“I am.”

“Good.” She glanced at his feet. Fortunately, his boots went with jeans, but she thought he might like something a little more comfortable as well. Surely her credit cards were groaning again, but so be it. He needed clothes, right?

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s hit the shoe department and then get out of here before I’m completely broke.”

After the mall, she did a quick grocery shop, and when she pulled into her apartment building’s parking lot, she groaned. A white Acura was parked in her space. Joe.

Loki was dozing in the passenger seat and she really hated having to poke him in the ribs. “Come on. We’re here and there’s no way I can possibly carry everything.”

He sat up, rubbing sleep from his right eye with one hand. “I think I can manage.”

She popped the trunk and he lifted everything as if it weighed almost nothing, and her belly twisted into knots as they made their way up to the third floor. Sure enough, the front door was unlocked. 

Her keys dangled from her hand as she pushed open the door and as she and Loki stepped inside, Joe poked his head out of the kitchen. “Kenna! Where were you?”

“I was out. What’re you doing here?” 

Loki set the bags on the floor just inside the door. “Who is this?”

The two men eyed each other like two lions trying to decide if they were going to do battle. McKenna tossed her keys back into her purse and set her purse on the coffee table. “This is Joe. Joe, this…” She paused, not really sure how to introduce Loki. How did one go about introducing a god wanted in at least two realms?

Joe’s hazel eyes narrowed. “Yes?”

“A friend,” she said, glancing back at Loki only to find he wasn’t looking at her, but still staring at Joe. Not only were his blue eyes icy now but they also had hints of green swirling in them now, and she had the sinking feeling the body count was close to going up by one. 

Turning back to Joe, she said, “What are you doing here?”

“I need my Rutgers sweatshirt. Shelley and I are going to Ocean City and I might need it.”

“You broke into my apartment for that? I don’t have it.”

“Sure you do. It’s in the bottom drawer. And I didn’t break in. I unlocked the door, like a normal person.” 

As he spoke, he held up the key she’d given him and as soon as she saw it, she snatched it from him. “What are you still doing with this? I told you leave it in the dish, didn't I?”

“Yeah, well, I didn't and I want my sweatshirt, so do me a solid and go get it.”

Her fingers tightened about the key on their own, and she ignored the sting of the teeth biting into her. “Do you a sol—are you kidding me?”

“I think the time has come for you to take your leave now,” Loki broke in, his voice low and steady.

“I think you need to mind your own business, pal,” Joe retorted. “I want my sweatshirt, Kenna. Where is it?”

“I told you, I don’t have it.” And she didn’t. Last weekend, she’d used it to scrub the toilet and tossed it into the trash with a glee that was almost scary. 

“Go get it, Ken,” he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Shelley’s waiting in the car and I don’t feel like getting caught in a ton of traffic.”

“Get out, Joe. I told you, I don’t have it.”

“Come on, Ken. I’m not in the mood for games right now.”

Loki caught her by the wrist and gently drew her around behind him. “She said she doesn’t have it and she’’s .”

“This really doesn’t concern you,” Joe glared at him, “and if you don’t back off, you’re gonna be sorry.”

“Am I? I think not.” Loki never raised his voice, but a flicker of fear shone in Joe’s eyes. 

Still, Joe was nothing if not stubborn. “Yeah? You think not, do you?”

Loki didn’t let him finish, but grabbed him by the throat and spun him about so his back was to the door. Joe gasped, “Let go of me, you son of a bitch.”

“Don’t hurt him,” McKenna broke in, grabbing Loki's right arm to try to break his hold. “You’ll get in trouble and he is not worth it."

“I’m not going to hurt him. I’m going to help him leave,” Loki replied evenly, shaking her off as he backed Joe across the room and shoved him out the door to send him reeling backward into the hallway. He hit the far wall with a crash and slid down in a daze, while Loki calmly shut the door on his glazed expression.

A flick of Loki's left hand, and the lock clicked into place, and he turned back to her, his eyes still cold and hard. “That is the man you lived with?”

“Well, he wasn’t always such a jerk,” she replied, sinking onto the arm of the sofa. 

“I find that difficult to believe.” 

“Yeah, well… he wasn’t.” She didn’t know why she was defending him, except for it didn’t say much for her, that she spent three years of her life accepting Joe’s bossy, overbearing, stubborn ways and for what? So he could dump her for his perfect Shelley, who’d he’d been screwing for months before he’d come clean about it?

Every last bit of happiness drained from her as she reached up to rub her forehead. Up until now, it’d been a pleasant day. She’d actually enjoyed the errands, enjoyed shopping, even enjoyed watching Loki put away his body weight in diner food. And now? Now she just wanted to crawl into bed and pull the covers over her head.

Loki put the groceries in the kitchen. “Where do you keep things?”

“I’ll get it.” She sighed as she pushed up from the sofa arm and trudged into the kitchen to join him. As she was putting things in the fridge, she caught sight of the bottle of white wine chilling on the bottom rack on the door. When she finished, she plucked the bottle from the shelf and set it on the counter. “Want a glass?”

“I think we could both use one. Where are the glasses?”

“In the dining room, overhead rack.”

He left, returning with two red wine glasses, but she didn’t care. She plucked the cork from the neck and emptied the bottle into both glasses. It was a Pinot Grigio, light and crisp, and after his first sip, Loki smiled. “Now that’s not quite as good as the coffee, but better than those potato-things I had at breakfast.”

She grinned. “Hash browns. They were hash browns and I’m amazed you had room for them.”

“What will we do for our evening meal?”

“I can cook, you know. I just didn’t have anything for breakfast.” She swallowed another mouthful of wine. A slight buzz settled over her. Perfect. “Beef or chicken?”

“Pheasant, if you have it? Or some wild boar, perhaps?”

“I don’t have them, Loki. Beef or chicken?”

“Surprise me.”

She smiled at him over one shoulder. “There’s another bottle of Cavit on the wine rack. It’s just below the glass rack.”

While he went to retrieve it, she lit the broiler, seasoned the flank steak she’d bought, and got it ready to go in the oven. He came back with the bottle. “A corkscrew?”

“Top drawer, left side. And I have to admit, I’m amazed you know what a corkscrew it.”

“We do open bottles in Asgard, you know.”

“You don’t just use magic?”

He grinned. “At times.”

She glanced up at him. When he smiled, the skin around his eyes crinkled in a way that was really cute. Especially since the bruise was fading from beneath his left eye. “I thought you were going to really hurt him,” she confessed, tearing off a sheet of aluminum foil to line the broiler pan.

“Joe? You should have let me.” Loki expertly popped the cork from the bottle and refilled both glasses. “He didn’t deserve you.”

“Oh, I know. I’m totally a prize.” She looked over and grinned at him. 

But he didn't smile back. “Why do you say it as if you don't mean it?”

“Because I don't meant it. And besides, ” she set the steak on the foil and bent to open the oven door. The pan slid in easily and by the time she straightened up, the delicious scent of garlic and pepper wafted up from the broiler, “he wasn’t always a jerk. Not at first.”

“He was trying to win you then. It’s unfortunate he didn’t keep trying to win you, because he should have been doing just that.”

She gave him a look. “Is that so?”

“You have a good heart. People mistake kindness for weakness, and that’s unfortunate, which I know sounds strange, coming from me, but a hint of kindness can go a very long way, you know.” He lifted the wineglass to his lips. 

There was something in his voice, a hint of wistfulness, perhaps, that suggested he had personal experience with being shown only hints of kindness. Sympathy swirled through her. He was a villain, he’d actually killed, and yet if she didn't already know what he’d done, she’d never believe it if someone told her right then. Aside from the way he’d handled Joe, and his arrogant demeanor the previous day, Loki had been almost been the perfect gentleman.  

“Thank you.” She set down her glass. “Salad or frozen veggies?”

“Salad.”

“Good. Fixings are in the fridge. Go crazy.”

He laughed. “I should have known.”

****

After dinner, McKenna cleared away the table, loaded the dishwasher, grabbed the bottle of wine and gestured to the living room. Loki followed, smiling as she curled up on the sofa and tucked her feet beneath her. He was finally a little more comfortable in the jeans, although they were a little snug in the crotch, which she insisted was how they were supposed to fit. Not quite as comfortable as the clothes he was used to, but definitely cooler.

“Now,” she was saying, swirling the wine in her glass, “tell me about this bargain and the—” she paused, her forehead wrinkling—“the Chitauri. Did I say that right?”

“You did.”

“Good. Tell me why they’re out for your head on a platter.”

He sat down on the edge of the coffee table, trying hard to keep his gaze off her legs. They were tanned and shapely, and rather nice to look at, but this was neither the time nor the place for any type of those thoughts. He needed her help and that was it. She’d had her heart broken recently, although he was certain she’d never admit to it, and she was vulnerable and right now, he felt no urge to play on that vulnerability.

The Midgardians were a curious lot. They warred with one another over the most petty of disagreements and thought nothing of slaughtering one another in mass numbers. They lied. They cheated. They abused one another with unspeakable violence. And that violence was kept to human alone—they were even cruel to those far weaker than themselves. How they hadn’t exterminated themselves yet was a miracle.

He’d hoped to rule them, to bring them peace if nothing else. Unfortunately, thanks to his brother—his adoptive brother—and his group of friends who called themselves The Avengers, that hadn’t happened and now, here he was, relying on one Midgardian woman to keep his head firmly attached to his shoulders. He had to be mad.

No, not mad. Desperate.

He sipped the warm wine in his glass. It made him feel relaxed, more so than he’d felt in a very long time. Relaxed. At ease. Comfortable, even. But could he trust her? He thought so. She wore her heart on her sleeve and seemed quite guileless. It was easy to see how a man like that Joe could simply take and take all he wanted from her, and she would let him. 

Normally, he would have sneered at her perceived weakness where that dishonorable Midgardian was concerned, but he felt no such revulsion now. There was something about McKenna that begged to be cared for, a part of her that wanted only to be loved that she couldn’t hide no matter how hard she tried.

“I’m not so certain I can explain them. They come from nowhere and everywhere and can look like anything they please.”

“That sounds horrible.” 

“To make a long story short, after I was—shall we say—deposed as king of Asgard, I was exiled and in this exile is where I encountered The Other.” As she opened her mouth, he held up a hand. “Don’t ask me to explain, for I cannot. I made a bargain with him. The Tesseract for control of the Chitauri. I would,” he paused, because no matter how he explained it, she was bound to be angered by it, “rule Midgard as your king with the help of the Chitauri armies and in return, I would hand them the Tesseract.”

“Tesseract?”

“An energy source. A neverending energy source and valuable to all the realms.” He drained his glass and set it on the table next to him. “And quite simply, I failed.”

“The Hulk.”

“Among a few others.” His back ached at the mere mention of the green beast that had grabbed him by the ankles and repeatedly whipped him back and forth until he was, as she pointed out, buried three inches into stone and steel. Not pleasant. Not pleasant at all. “Including my brother.”

“Close family.”

“He is not my family. I was stolen from my family as an infant and raised an Asgardian. But I’m not. Not as Thor and Odin, and even my mother, were.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What are you then?”

“I’m a Jötunn, a Frost Giant.”

“You don’t look like a giant.” 

He smiled. “No, I don’t. But I assure you, I am.” He held up his right hand, gave a flick of his fingers, and snow started falling over her.

“What the hell…?” She laughed, setting down her glass and raising her hand, palm up, to catch the gently drifting flakes. “How did you do that?”

“My mother. She was quite the skilled illusionist.” 

Snow clung to McKenna's golden hair and she smiled at him as she stuck out her tongue to catch a flake on it. Such an innocent gesture, and yet, his hand went still and the snow stopped. 

She sat back, brushing the snow from her leg. “Cold. Now, you say she was a skilled illusionist. What happened to her?”

“She died. Was murdered, actually.”

“Oh my God…” Her eyes went round and wide with sympathy he knew to be genuine. “How awful. I’m so sorry.”

He bobbed his head. “I thank you and if you don’t mind, I’d rather not speak of it.” He tried like mad to never think of what happened to Frigga, for each time he did, his rage bubbled to the surface and threatened to devour him. She wasn’t his mother, but she was the closest thing he knew to a mother and the one person he trusted. She was the one person he loved. 

“No, I understand. I lost my own mother not too long ago, although it wasn’t unexpected or violent. She was sick. Brain cancer. And it was a long, slow—” Her voice hitched and she pressed her lips together as her eyes glimmered. Tears. He could almost see her heartbreak.

He moved his fingers again to make it snow a little more, but she didn’t smile this time. So he moved them with a little more speed and created a snowball in the palm of his hand, which he handed to her. “Throw it at me.”

“What?”

“Throw it at me.”

She took the snowball and lobbed it at him. It hit him in the chest and exploded into a shower of white-winged butterflies that sparkled as if encrusted with diamonds as they fluttered all about the room. She couldn't keep the amazement from her voice as she murmured, “How did you do that?” 

“I already told you.”

“They’re so pretty.”

“Do you prefer white? Or perhaps purple?” He didn’t wait for her response, but wiggled his fingers and the butterflies sparkled like rich amethysts. “Perhaps green?” Sparkling emeralds darted about the room.

“Perhaps multicolor?” The swarm became a kaleidoscope of brilliant, shimmering butterflies. Then, with a wave of his hand, they all vanished. “And to answer the rest of your question, I thought everything was as it should be. Asgard believes me to be dead. I assume the other realms do as well. But then, the Chitauri appeared. I couldn’t take the chance I might be discovered, and since I couldn’t access the Bifrost, I had to find other, less secure means to take my leave of Asgard. And that’s when I crashed into your flat.”

“Why did they believe you to be dead?” 

McKenna refilled her wine glass and as she reached to fill his, he held up a hand. “Thank you, but no.” She set the bottle down and took her glass as he added, “Because I let them think so. Thor believes I sacrificed myself on Svartalfheim and I let them all think it. I avenged my mother’s murder and it was either let everyone believe I was truly dead or spend an eternity in Asgard’s dungeons.”

“Because of what happened in New York?”

He nodded. “Because of what happened in New York.”

“And yet, here you are and I’m not dead. Amazing.” Her words softened, running into one another as the wine hit her hard.

“I’ve no cause to kill you.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” She sank back against the arm of the sofa. “Our clothing suits you, Mr. Loki. Jeans look wonderful on you.”

“I think you’ve had a bit too much wine, Miss…” He frowned. “Have you a surname?”

“Carlin.”

“Miss Carlin.” He smiled as she fought to keep her eyes open. He rose from the table and slid his arms beneath her, one under her knees, the other about her waist, and lifted. She was not quite as light as she looked, but she wasn’t exactly heavy, either. 

She didn’t fight him, but looped an arm about his neck, murmuring, “The room is spinning…” as he carried her back to her room and balanced her against his hip as he freed one hand to tug down her blankets.

He shifted her back, and bent to gently place her on the bed’s left side. Her hold on him tightened, and she whispered, “Please stay…”

“No. That wouldn’t be wise,” he replied, reaching up to peel her hand from his shoulder, where her grip was like iron. But he managed to free himself and he straightened, pulling the sheet and blanket up to her chin. “Perhaps another night, McKenna. But not this one.”

Her eyes were already closed, a breathy sigh floating up from her lips as she snuggled down into the pillow. Cinder hopped up to curl into a ball on her other side and Loki stood there for a while, he knew not how long, and watched her sleep.

In sleep, she looked so young. The day’s cares and worries faded from her face. Her blonde hair spilled across the pillow, glinting in the glow of the nightlight plugged into the outlet next to  her bed. She was a lovely creature. As beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside.

“Sleep well, McKenna Carlin. Sleep well.”

[bonesandthebees]

Then we have Quackity. And having reread the prequel, this is the second time Wilbur almost gets screwed up by the light from the windows messing with his vision. If I had a nickel… and so on.

Anyway, they are friends! (And probably doing some may or may not be joking flirting.) It’s amazing how fast the light air disappears when Quackity tries to get info about the announcement and Wilbur won’t show his cards. To Quackity Wilbur is just playing coy or showing loyalty. While Wilbur just does not want Quackity to know that he doesn’t know because of all the aforementioned implications.

[He wanted Quackity to be successful. Just not as the future King.] Sums up how Wilbur views Quackity pretty well. He doesn’t hate or even dislike him. He’s just in the way of Niki’s success, and Wilbur does want to see Niki succeed very badly. Both because she’s his friend and because it’s a guaranty to his position as future consul. Wilbur even says he admires Quackity’s skill as a leader and his willingness to take risks.

He also says that his wit is on par with his own, which Quackity sees too. [But I want you to know that there can still be a place for you here, regardless of how things shake out tonight.”] You could take this as either 1. Quackity’s faith in Wilbur’s ability to be a good consul because he’s obviously trained to be, 2. Quackity’s believe that Wilbur is useful to have around because of personal knowledge about his skill set. 3. Quackity wanting to keep Wilbur around because they are friends or most likely 4. A combination of all of these.

There’s also the nod during dinner (or more like right before the announcement), which feels like an acknowledgement that even though Wilbur is sitting at Niki’s side, he still has a place with Quackity. Because Quackity full believes it to be the announcement and thinks he will ‘win’ on top of that.

Also, side note cuz this probably won’t fit anywhere else, but we haven’t really seen a lot of Niki and Quackity together, so I can’t guess too much about their relationship, BUT he did talk to her about to announcement after(?) the dinner. They do talk, which means they are at least on okay terms, which means Phil’s plan to have them know each other is kinda working (except for the part where both of them think they are entitled to be the heir and a third dog is about to arrive to get the bone.)

(2/?)

-🌲

BACK TO THE SPRUCE ROSE ASKS it's been a hot minute oops

hehe yeah the light in wilbur's eyes definitely isn't going to come back not at all nope

they're friends!! one of the things i'm most excited about with rose!tntduo is how their relationship is going to change over the course of the fic. they start out as childhood friends who, yes have this sense of rivalry always hanging over them, but it's never been too invasive. because while the choosing sides between quackity and niki existed, it wasn't fully there yet. choices like that didn't have to be made as children. but as the stakes get higher...

wilbur also admires quackity a lot. like niki is his best friend, his closest confidant besides his father, and the one who has promised him power for years now. so of course he's going to stay loyal to her. but he respects quackity and his intelligence. and quackity feels the same way about wilbur. despite the fact that wilbur is loyal to niki, quackity knows that since there's no true animosity between them, if he gets chosen as heir wilbur would be a powerful ally to hold onto. and also again, that's his friend! he wants wilbur to stick around.

you'll learn a bit more about quackity and niki's dynamic as the story develops, but yeah, right now the two of them are on pretty good terms. yes they're competing for the title of heir, but it's kind of a 'may the best man win' deal. they've grown up with each other, and have a lot of respect for the other as a result. while the trio of niki, wilbur, and quackity was never a proper 'trio', the three of them definitely snuck out into the palace gardens one night with a stolen bottle of wine and got drunk together.

[serenemy]

panopticon as fuck

as a witch she was supposed to be outside the globe looking in. through a series of events best phrased contemporaneously as “playing herself” it had turned out otherwise

but like whyy tho??

why would anyone read a Book that doesn’t spark their magic? why would anyone pay this much attention to a character they actively dislike and engage in complicated ruses to have removed from the stories?

it pains me to acknowledge this could be some form of magic. new corrupt spells from the bad wizard? [any gender can be a witch whether good or bad. but not this person. wizard is synonymous in every way except it isn’t derived from the native tongue of the vvitche, an honor, she had pettily decided, too painful to bestow] lingering remnants of his old ones? or was there another bad wizard in the midst? or some weird wild juju of indeterminate origin and moral appropriateness?

idk

i just know it makes me uncomfortable. i’ve felt its hostile presence everywhere for like two human years. its existence made no logical sense and i used my thusly discredited sense of it to undermine me on other things in dangerous ways. the magic’s been wrong across realms for awhile

magic works both ways with a Book of Shadows. theoretically a powerful enough interaction between pages and a hostile reader could leave even a completed works altered, perhaps irreparably so, and i’m not sure i should go on

perhaps the Board has a point

here is where she is a liar because while she might not have been the only source of dangerous magic—there was at least one corrupt wizard in the region, she had mistaken to great effect for a mundane—in her secret heart of hearts she had known for a long time, maybe all along

she started it

at a minimum, she opened the door

she tried to eat and have two cakes

every propagandist in human history knows you can tell a story and manifest a thing that didn’t previously exist. in a Book of Shadows a story can weave a spell. and she was not solely a witch. she was many other things and one of them was storyteller

of course the risk would be there, in her Book, even if she told herself you’re only writing down the honorable parts and keeping the rest inside in your soul

it is the soul from whence all springs, little mouse

here is the other part where she is a liar

she knew she wasn’t really going to maybe quit either. it was different than expected, less morally pristine, more reckless. but there was still beauty and powerful good in the pages

not all the secret watchers had stained it with malevolence. some touched the works with beneficial magic so lovely it alone justified continued existence in the present form

and the muse was the right one. one she’d learned in bittersweetly painful ways to trust

and the songs still felt true and right and beautiful

as the “writer,” if she existed, it wasn’t so much surprising—

she could argue there should have been warning. the content wasn’t ready. you still as of now haven’t seen the [*BENIGN and] creative place this is going [she was like grrm. but the content was still alive. there was time]

*yinze know i use content warnings. some people love a tragic story. some feel bait and switched when they get their hearts broken by a story they loved. i write both but i don’t trick people. to me that’s a shitty click baity and unnecessary way to get readers

we don’t do jump scares here. one of my central theses as an author is that compelling, exciting fiction, with high stakes, can in any genre including smut be created around moral characters who treat each other in morally sensitive ways and via moral stories that treat their audiences morally. these stories exist, they’re gorgeous, and since i didn’t find as many as i wanted, i started making my own

i’ve broken so may “i swear i’ll nevers” along the way

i’ll swear i’ll never write anything with sex shaming language [guy character calls his sister a whore, a word i promised myself i’d never replicate in any form]

i swear i’ll never write a rape scene. it’s not the worst thing that can befall a woman. for most women, if they really thought about it, it wouldn’t be as close to the top as they expected

so can we get some other storylines?? a lot of survivors have been encountering that one their entire lives and the scenes are really really unpleasant. plus while a lot of the fiction comes from women, the idea that this is the worst thing that can befall a woman is a cultural construct originating entirely with men

the other thing is they almost always treat the event itself as the trauma. i’m not familiar with a single example pre Unbelievable that understood sometimes the worse trauma is the reaction of others. [wrote a rape scene in a romance novel. i think ‘wind river’ is powerful art the existence of which improves the world. because it showed something impossible to tell. mattress girl’s “porno” does the same and should exist for the same reasons]

i swear i’ll never write a revenge story. i just couldn’t conceive being interested. still haven’t watched old boy eg. if morality is your guiding star, it answers every question about how to respond when someone wrongs you. to the extent the genre intends to differ from a “justice” story any “revenge” story i could love would definitionally have to be the former [might have written one. turns out i have a more complicated relationship with those themes than i thought. sometimes the hero’s cause is just but the nature of the remedy demanded by the context of the storylines opens the door for hatred and anger to influence proportionality in morally culpable ways

in my novel i weighed that. the villain received notice. my hero went no further than remedy demanded. if it seemed otherwise the flaw was in the author’s storytelling, not the character’s choices]

it’d be intellectually dishonest to deny i could fail more i swear i’ll nevers in the future. what i can say is two things:

1. i have no such works in progress, in mind, or alive in my head at this time and can’t foresee that changing anytime in the foreseeable future

2. if you haven’t encountered multiple content warnings (as my villain did) you’re not going to get ambushed with content

—as it is unexpected

i’m not sure it’s a good place for an author to be mental health wise to court a cult following of hate readers for a project so experimental they can see the words *of a Book of Shadows no less* being written—and deleted—in real time

can potentially alter its course with their attention

the presence of the observer changes things—in science and in fiction

[there was a reason she’d been telling the truth when she told that prelator she only sought or wanted a few acolytes who were perfect fits for the material. she really didn’t like to lie, even to someone who wouldn’t remember. wait. wrong “character.” nvm, all fiction lies]

but i don’t know. there might be something here

something lovely and worth telling. something sufficiently moral to justify its existence

[sometimes so do all truths]

[sweetmusingss]

Oscar shrugged a bit, always having issues with his self-esteem and his own insecurities. He didn’t feel like he had that much to offer and as much as he hated to admit it, it wrecked him knowing that you would never see him that way. Although to be fair, he was aware that you were way out of his league. You probably wanted a guy that was so sure of himself and had no self-confidence issues, like Charles. “I only went on the date because of peer pressure from the guys but it’s actually going better than expected.. I will keep seeing her as long as she wants to,” he said, not wanting to dwell on this topic for so long. He definitely felt more pressure to date because he was trying to get over you. “But you didn’t ruin anything,” he said, squeezing your knee gently before giving you a small smile. “I am not going to ever leave my best friend just hanging and trapped outside because I am on a date,” he reassured you. He tried to play it off like he was just being a good friend but deep down, he knew there was more to why he wanted to rush over here and save you.

“Don’t just date this girl because Lando wants you too. If you like her, keep seeing her... but if she doesn’t give you butterflies or excite you, then why bother?” I remembered back in the day when Charles gave me butterflies, but now he just made me angry majority of the time. “I’m so confused by you... you’re cute and kind and a gentleman, and yet you only went on a date because you were peer pressured. No one is exciting to you? There’s no one you want to ask out? Or are you just super picky and particular?” I scoff and shake my head at his comment about never leaving me hanging while he’s on a date, “Obviously, you’ve never been on a good date before because I promise if you were on a date with someone you really liked and you were connecting on every level, leaving me to sit on the floor for a few hours wouldn’t sound that bad to you. God, you’re too nice, Oscar...” I smile at him, taking another sip of my wine, watching him closely.

__

Charles laughs softly, his eyes lighting up because he was getting a kick out of all of this. “No, definitely not. She would be more upset if you didn’t say that, actually. And not that you need an extra confidence boost, but I have known Katie for a long time. I haven’t ever seen her get that googly eyed, except maybe when she looks at Leo,” he smirked at you. He had never anticipated the two of you having a connection but now it actually made sense. He walked back over to the girls with you, kissing Renee sweetly before petting Leo’s head.

I met your eyes when you walked back over, feeling like you got even more attractive since the last time I saw you. “Hi,” I say softly, feeling like a schoolgirl with a huge crush. You looked great with your hat on but now that I could see your hair, I couldn’t help but admire it and picture running my fingers through it. I fell into step with you as we followed Renee and Charles to the car. “Do you drive a lot around Monaco?,” I ask you curiously, knowing Charles had a thing where he always liked to be the one driving, wondering if this was going to be weird for you sitting in the backseat with me.

Max felt good about what Charles said, glad to know that he wouldn’t be stepping on any toes if he were to pursue you. “Hi.” He gives you a smile as Charles and Renee greet each other, for the first time in his life wishing he had someone here to hug him and kiss him and tell him he did a good job after a hard day like today. Race weekends were always so strenuous and stressful, and Max always handled it alone, but now a lot of the guys on grid had girlfriends and seeing them all get that support left him yearning for it himself. “Yes, of course. I walk if need be, you know, but majority of the time I am driving... also, I sadly don’t get to spend much time here. I’m only here on the off season... in-between race weekends, I am usually in the UK at Red Bull headquarters. Do you live here in Monaco? You don’t sound Monegasque.” He looks down at you, truly interested in you and where you were from, still unable to pin point where he knows you from but he knows you look familiar.

[niennandil-me-writes]

Fragments of a Cybernetic Mind: Chapter 3 - Date Night at Stardust

Summary Half a year has passed since the events of Christmas of 2064. The world is slowly adjusting to sentient ROMs. But Turing is distracted from their task as ROM-kind’s leader and ambassador by another obligation they carry. They want to deliver Leon Dekker’s last words to his daughter. But first, they’ll have to find her, which doesn’t prove easy. They ask their journalist friend for help, who seems less than thrilled.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 (final) Epilogue

CN: alcohol, suicide mention, ableism, war

As soon as I enter the club, I can feel the music as well as hear it, strong bass tones vibrating through my bones. I’ve missed this. It’s Friday night, so of course Stardust is packed full with people, drinking at the bar, talking at the high tables or moving their bodies on the dance floor. I look around for a while before I spot Crow sitting at the bar, making small talk with Gus, whenever he isn’t busy. He saved a seat for me, which tonight must have been a feat even for his big frame.

“There you are, big kitty,” I smile as I approach him. “It’s nice to see you.”

He smiles as well. “Glad you could make it,” he says in his husky voice. He’s already got a drink in front of him, a Bear’s Wintertini. Of course.

I order a Butch Flower from Gus and sit down on the high chair. “Yeah, sorry that I don’t have much time right now. I got a lot on my plate.”

“Don’t worry, I get it.”

Sitting on the chair next to him, I immediately feel more comfortable. We haven’t seen each other in weeks, but tried to make something work via texts. We’re not exactly dating, but we are seeing each other as often as we can manage. It’s nice to have him around. Takes some edge off the stress. If the stress allows me to see him, that is.

“You wanna dance?” he purrs.

I look over to the dance floor. I spot Jess dancing with some of her hybrid friends. She dances surprisingly well for someone with a stick up her ass. Close to them, completely stealing the spotlight, a white-haired hybrid with markhor-style horns is twirling around a scruffy-looking man covered in tattoos, who seems a bit out of it. 

“Maybe later,” I say. “For now, I’d just like to get a bit more drunk.”

“Rough day, huh?”

“Rough week,” I say. “Month? I don’t even know.”

“Work killing you?”

“I don’t wanna talk about that right now.” The reality is that I’m still stuck on writing, that the pages stay blank. It’s the same with Turing’s little project. We’ve been combing through data for two weeks now, with little result, except that I have less time to write. I shake my head. “Let’s not talk work right now. That’s not what I came here for.” I put my hand on his arm, fingers trailing through his soft purple fur. It might be superficial, but this might just be half the reason I like being with him so much. I doubt he’d mind. He chose that himself, after all. In fact, he doesn’t seem to mind at all, since he starts purring.

“Well, I don’t wanna talk about work either,” he says.

“You mean your ‘office job’?”

“Yeah,” he grins. “That.”

We’ve long dropped the pretenses. I don’t know exactly how Crow earns his money, only that it’s dangerous, technically legal, and that Lexi doesn’t approve of it, or him. 

“This club is really getting popular, huh?” Crow says while his eyes wander through Stardust. A small crowd has formed on the dancefloor around a very pissed-looking Jess and the tattooed man, who looks like he’s about to throw hands. His datemate doesn’t stop him, filming the whole thing with their phone. A bouncer draws close. I can’t stop myself from grinning.

“Well, you know what they say.” I turn back to Crow. “Bars come and go, but Stardust is forever.” 

 For a while, we just talk about the most inconsequential stuff, mostly what clubs Crow has been to lately, and new Hassy flavors. There’s some ruckus behind our backs as the man who messed with Jess gets led outside by security. Seems like she got the last word, as she tends to do. The music booms over the dance floor, but the speakers are far enough away from the bar that you can hold a conversation without screaming your lungs out – or order drinks, which I do now. Majid brings them over, another Wintertini and a Bionic Femme for me.

“You’re really drinking yourself through the entire menu, huh?” Crow asks.

“I’ve done that already at Christmas. But now I don’t remember which ones I liked.”

“That’s what that will do to you,” Majid laughs.

“You know, if you need help with your writing, I’m sure I could look through it and give some feedback,” Crow offers.

“Yeah, I’m sure your fanfiction experience will help with a recounting of real life events and politics,” I tease.

“Hey, it’s great writing practice.” He sounds insulted, but his grin says otherwise. “Besides, I have a good writing style.”

“Did your smut readers tell you that?”

He punches me in the arm. It’s supposed to be affectionate, but he still manages to push me off my chair.

“Everything alright?”

I get up, holding my stomach. “Yeah, but I think the Bionic Femme is doing something to the Butch Flower in my belly.”

“Yeah, they tend to do that,” Gus says, as he takes our empty glasses away.

I sit down next to Crow again. For a while, we just listen to the music, the hustle of the bar, the cheesy flirting between Majid and Gus.

“Is something wrong?” Crow eventually asks.

I look up from my glass, confused. “No? What do you mean?”

“You just seem... distracted.”

“Sorry, I...”

“I don’t mean it like that,” he adds hastily. “Just... You seem like there’s a lot on your mind.”

“I do?” I notice that I’m not smiling anymore. Damn, when did that happen? Maybe I need another drink?

As Crow orders for us, I bite my tongue. “There is actually something I wanted to ask you.”

Crow takes a sip of his Wintertini and looks at me expectantly.

“You fought in the Korea war, right?”

He looks up in surprise. “Yes, I was stationed there as a mercenary with my gang – then gang, we’ve disbanded.” He furrows his bushy brows. “Why are you asking?”

“No reason.” I can see from the look on his face that he doesn’t buy that. “There’s just something that came up in my research.”

“This better not end up in that book you’re writing,” he huffs.

“It’s not for that,” I say quickly. “I mean, not really. It’s more a personal project.”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk work tonight.” He looks broody.

I sigh. “You’re right, Crow. Sorry.”

He relaxes a bit. “Don’t apologize.” He lays a hand on my shoulder, gently this time. His fur feels warm and soft against my skin. One more drink, and I’d probably just want to sink in there. “I’m not mad. I just get the feeling you’re overworking yourself.” He’s so gentle now, so much more sensitive and receptive than the gruff exterior he showed when I first met him.

“I am,” I admit, sighing. “I promise, this is just for my own curiosity. I came here to have fun with you, not to interview you.” I lean against his shoulder. He purrs. 

“Now, are you going to ask me that question, or are you going to stew on it the entire rest of the evening?” he asks with a smirk. 

I sit up, still feeling a bit guilty about this. But then the investigative journalist comes through again. I sit up to face him, leaning one arm on the bar counter.

“Did you ever meet any combat androids during the war?”

“Oh, for sure. The military really stocked up on them at that time, and for good reason. They were mostly deployed as shock troops. Most of my colleagues stayed clear of them, to be honest. There’s something off about them. I know, rich coming from someone looking like I do. But they were not like hybrids. More like assembly-line created psychopaths. A lot of people found them creepy. Can’t say I blame them. We mostly only interacted while we were deployed in battle.” He picks up his glass and takes a sip. “I did get along pretty well with some of them. A few I might call friends.”

“Do you remember a man called Leon Dekker being among them?” I ask. “Though he might still have gone by Wilson Dekker at that time,” I add.

Crow thinks for a moment, then shakes his head. “Can’t say I remember that name.” He tilts his head. “Why are you asking? Are you looking for him?”

I nod. “It’s for...” I stock. A part of me wants to tell him everything. Another part of me doesn’t like the thought of retching up all that I’ve kept hidden inside me in a crowd of drunk partygoers. “I’m looking for him, for a friend. So to speak.”

He seems to understand that I either cannot or am not allowed to share details. “Well, I still have some contacts from back when, so I can ask around a bit.”

“Thanks.” I smile, hesitant. “What was it like working with them?” I don’t know why I’m asking. Not like it will help me. Not like I actually need to know.

“Mostly business as usual.” He shrugs. “Aside from the above average enthusiasm for murder and ultra-violence, they mostly weren’t that different from most mercs I know. I’ve worked with plenty of violent and sinister people in my life.” He looks down at his glass, swings the liquid around while contemplating something. "There’s one incident outside battle I still think of, though.”

I sit up, listening.

“It’s not a pretty story, though.” He side-eyes me, gritting his teeth.

“I’m used to not pretty stories,” I say. “I’m a journalist, remember?”

He takes a sip and nods. “One night, when I went outside to have a smoke, I noticed a combat android cleaning his rifle. Except after stepping closer I realized he wasn’t moving it, and didn’t have anything to clean it, and that the muzzle was pointed at his chin. And no matter how creepy you find them, when you see a person training a gun at themself, you stop them before they hurt themself. Or worse. I ran up to him and saw that his finger was trembling on the trigger. I yanked the gun away from him. He just stared at me from bloodshot eyes. I don’t know if I just imagined it, but I swear I could hear him whisper something like ‘pull the trigger, please’.”

Neither of us talks for a while.  Then I hear myself explain: “They have protocols installed that prevent them from harming themselves.”

“Yeah, that’s what I found out later. Poor sod. I never saw him again. Maybe he found a loophole.”

“Maybe.”

The club music drones on, swallowing up our silence. It seems muted to me. Garbled. I hear a scream that isn’t there.

“Sorry, I told you it’s not a pretty story.” He sounds apologetic.

“It’s alright,” I assure him. 

“You have any other questions?” he asks.

I consider asking more about the combat androids he met, but I’m already feeling nauseous, and that’s not just the Bionic Femme and Butch Flower doing unspeakable things to the Modest Connie I just downed. “No, that’s all for now.”

“Good.” He sounds relieved. “I thought you were gonna ask me about classified information.”

“Like what?” I perk up again.

“Uhm, forget I said anything.”

“Wait, let me get my pen real quick so I can jot everything down for my next - hey!”

He tries to punch me again, but this time I dodge. I still land on the floor again, thanks to the three drinks I’ve had. He helps me up. “You wanna dance now?”

I nod, leaning against him. “Enough sulking for today.”

“If you want we can go to my place afterwards ,” he purrs. “I’ve got some new ropes. They’re way more comfortable than the ones I used so far.”

I laugh. “You’re such a sensitive kitten sometimes.” I lean further into him. His fur bristles, tickling me. He puts his arm around me. He feels so soft and warm and smells of comfort and cologne, and now, after the third drink, I yield to the coziness and sink into him, letting him lead me to the dance floor.

We don’t talk about our work anymore that evening. We have better things to spend our time on. The day after, I return to my flat relaxed and happy, though not well rested. I could barely sleep because in my dreams I’m in the server room again, holding my zapper in Leon Dekker’s face, and he begs me to pull the trigger.

[peaky-shelby]

Say My Name Three Times | Kylian Mbappè

Pairing: kylian x reader

Series: Take Me On The Field

Request: Heyy, can I have a Kylian Mbappe request maybe they’re at a game of his and she goes to surprise him, she’s his girlfriend and an actress they haven’t seen each other in a month

Writer's note: this is the first story of the take me on the Field series. send in requests for our favorite players. You can check my prompt lists here.

When I reached Qatar I was praying to everything holy for no one would recognize me. So far I had done a great job at convincing Kylian that I wasn’t going to make it to the final because of reshoots for the new project. The thing I loved most about him was that he didn’t even get mad about it. We were the exception of the rule that footballers dating actresses never ended happily. We both understood each other’s busy schedules, even when it wasn’t in our favor.

Of course the fact that he didn’t get mad didn’t mean that he didn’t complain. He wanted me there as much as I wanted to be there and it was eating us both alive. When I got the ok two days ago to leave the movie set I decided to surprise him, instead of telling and giving him a boost of confidence from the sidelines.

The hat covered most of my facial futures, along with my eye vision which was the reason I bumped into about 20 guys wearing Messi’s shirt. But thankfully my mask hid the rest of my face, as did my black as night sunglasses. To mix with the crowd I was wearing one of Kylian’s jersey’s and an old pair of sweatpants. Nothing about me was screaming celebrity, which was exactly the way I liked it.

The only one helping me with everything and knew I was coming was Giroud. He had spoken to the drivers, so one of them would be waiting for me. On the way to the French base, I stared out of my window, at the people, dressed and blue and white or in dark blue carrying the french flag over their heads. I smiled, truth was, kylian or not, football had been a part of me since I was a kid, the view made me emotional. When we reached the French base, the team had already left for the stadium. One of Giroud’s assistant was waiting for me on the foyer.

“Bonjour Mademoiselle!” he exclaimed when he saw me. He dealt with the security and helped me find my way to kylian’s room. All the way to his room, he’d mumble about how happy he was the Giroud has trusted him with this mission. I laughed at his excitement and thanked him a bunch for his help. When we got inside it instantly felt like home as Kylian’s perfume filled all my senses and I almost snuck in the bathroom expecting to find him by the mirror, shaving. I left my stuff next to the bed, as I raised my head I noticed he had a picture of us by his nightstand. I must have stood there looking at it for a long time because Giroud’s assistant, patted me on the shoudler “We have to go Mademoiselle!”

I nodded quickly, picked just my scarf with the French’s team’s logo, my phone and my jacket and ran outside with him. Everything else happened too quickly, the drive to the stadium, sneaking in with Giroud’s passes and all the way to the dressing rooms my phone was buzzing with Mbappe’s picture. I stopped just right outside the dressing room, smiling at myself. Giroud’s assistant looked at me confused as I answered the call.

“Babe! Où étais-tu ?” he asked, stressed, before I even had time to say anything.

“Je suis désolé! I got caught up at work! Has the came started?”

“Non!” I could hear the nerves in his voice. “Two minutes before we go out! I need your good luck!” While he was speaking I peaked through the door of the dressing room, all the boys were there sitting on their benches. Talking, laughing, putting on their uniforms. Mbappe on the other hand wasn’t there at all.

“You have all my good luck! You know that!”

“HEY! KYLIAN! JE DOIS ALLER AUX TOILETTES, MEC ! SORTEZ !” I heard somebody yelling through the phone.

“FUCK OFF ! Je parle avec ma copine!” he said shot back, my heart sinking when he called his girl. It sounded beautiful in any language he’d say it. I finally walked in the dressing room, everybody started exclaiming until I shushed them with my finger “You shouldn’t be talking to your teammates like the kyky!” I walked behind the benches, high fiving giroud as I passed him and got to the hall that led to the toilet. Tchouameni was knocking on the bathroom door. I guessed Kylian must have been inside.

“They shouldn’t be interrupting me when I’m talking to you.”

I patted Tchouameni on the shoulder. He jumped and covered his mouth when he saw me, he was as shocked as I hoped Kylian would be. I tilted my head to signal him to away for a moment and I got closer to the door. I could swear my heart was tied with Kylian’s because the closer I would get the more I felt it beat, like it wanted to jump out of my chest and right into his hands. I leaned on the door.

“If they gotta pee, the gotta pee Kyky!”

“Can I face time you?”

I smiled “I don’t have time. I have to go meet somebody.”

I heard him sigh and curse. I imagined him covering the microphone because I only heard it through the door, the he said on the microphone. “I really wish you were here, mon cheri!”

“Say my name three times, I might appear out of nowhere.”

He did it without thinking, he’d believe in anything if it could get me to be where he was. I laughed and knocked on the door.

“Putain de merde ! Laisse-moi tranquille Tchouameni!” He yelled, making me laugh again! So I knocked, with my palm, loud, like I was his teammate in need of the toilet. “PUTAIN!” He yelled and I heard him stand up, my heart reaching the speed of an airplane about to lift off. I heard him unlock, my breath becoming so stiff I thought I would choke right then and there and then-

“Merde Ts-“ he stopped. His eyes starring blankly at me, his voice eaten, his body frozen. I thought he was on facetime and the connection had fallen as it usually did and he was gonna stay like that for the next hour. I was scared to even touch him, as if he would reload and disappear completely. Then he spoke, relief filled my lungs, he was real. “Merde..” he said, this time softer, this time like a prayer. He didn’t even waste any time to put his phone back on his pocket, he just let it slip off his hand and wrapped his arms around me, lighting me up. I tied my legs around his waste, hiding my face in the crook of his neck, taking In his perfume and his skin. A drug I had long missed. He spoke curses and muffled words in my hair, until I pulled my head back, just so I could look in his eyes. I smiled widely and kissed him, the way I’ve waited for a month. He walked until I was against the wall, still kissing me and holding me like I was part of him. It felt easy, it felt as it should be.

We pulled back to breath and I leaned my forehead against his, our eyes saying a thousand words as we stared into each other’s souls. He was smiling like a dork, I think I was too.

“Hi.” I whispered and he laughed. Still unable to believe this was real. He shook his head.

“You came.” He whispered, his one hand reach my cheek, stroking it. I leaned to his touch.

“You said my name three times” I whispered back, getting another laugh from him. Then his expression got serious, his eyes fell on me with lust burning out of them.

“I’d say your name every second of every day non stop if I have to.” He answered and leaned in to kiss me again, this time deeper. We were interrupted by someone flushing the toilet. We hadn’t even realized his teammate had walked passed us while we were reuniting. When he came out he gave us a teasing look. Kylian kicked him in the ass, cursing him and then we looked at each other, laughing. It was as it should be.

[midnightstar-90]

The One That Got Away

Jason Todd x Reader

Taglist | Request | Wattpad

Main Masterlist | DC Comics Masterlist

Summary: After learning about Jason’s death, her and Nightwing set course to Gotham.

Warnings: Mentions of Character Death, Angst, Slight Suicide TW

A/N: I plan to make a part 2 to this, but with Red Hood, so stick around for that. But otherwise, enjoy!

It’s been 6 months since Jason left, and everyone has been okay… all except for me. Since the day that Jason left with Rose, only leaving me with a kiss goodbye, I haven’t been much of anything to anyone. I haven’t moved from my bed, and when I do, it’s to use the restroom.

I’m pretty sure that when I lost a bit of weight since the last time I had a well-cooked meal, with my diet only consisting of crackers, ice cream, and whatever juice Gar and Rachel had decided to hide from Dick and his insane health kick. Like, what teenager do you know eating cauliflower mash? Anyways, one of the Titans would show up in my room with a plate of food every now and then, begging me to eat it, but I just ignored them. I never accepted the food, I was too upset to do anything other than wallow for 24 hours a day and 7 days a week. They would leave the plate of food on my nightstand, hoping that I could pull myself together enough to eat, but I just left it to sit there for days before someone came to get it.

No matter what I do, I can never get Jason out of my head. Anytime I entered the kitchen, I was reminded of when Jason and I would stay up late and hang out. He would sit on the counter, swinging his legs back and forth, causing them to repeatedly hit the cabinet doors that sat under the countertop while I baked whatever recipe I had seen on YouTube earlier that day. (He was the perfect subject for recipe experiments)

But it wasn’t just rooms inside the tower. Jason seemed to haunt my dreams too. I couldn’t stop dreaming about that night… The night he left me alone. When he abandoned me to go with another girl, leaving me with only a kiss.

Everyone sat around the commons area of Titan’s tower. Thanks to Conner, we were able to get Jason back from Deathstroke, unharmed. And since then, nothing has been the same. 

After saving Jason, Deathstroke broke into the tower, placing objects- memorabilia for each Titan to find. For Hank, it was a bottle of bourbon. Rachel had crosses drawn all over her room. Dawn was met with a photo of a friend who had recently died. And Donna received a bottle of orange soda. Specifically, a brand of soda she once shared with a close friend of hers who had also died… a former Titan.

But to make things worse, everyone (except me) blamed Jason for their recent trips from memory lane. This only ended with me coming to Jason's defense. My fellow teammates were shocked at my outburst, all of us failing to realize that Jason was no longer in the room.

Dick soon stormed into the central living area, where all of us stood, and warned us of the true threat. "Hey, where's Jason?" I asked everyone, nervously looking around. My eyes fell on Dick's, giving each other a knowing look, before setting out to look for Jason. We found him on the roof, planning to jump off the rooftop. I tried to stop him, but Dick and his dark secret ended up getting him down from the ledge.

So now, here we all are, listening to Dick explain how he lied to us, his so-called “friends,” for the hundredth time, and everyone was fed up. Upset because of the trust this team had for each other.

I sat next to Jason at the kitchen table, who propped his head against his hand. I lay face down, no longer wanting to be here, forced to listen to friends argue. After earlier, Jason was so disappointed in himself that he couldn’t even look at me. And judging how everyone was earlier, I could only imagine how much everyone would judge Dick for this.

Now, I couldn’t see anything, but I could definitely hear. I heard Rose speak up for the first time since Dick explained everything. “My brother’s dead because of you,” Rose said with a sense of hatred. “I’m out,” she continued before standing up and making her way out of the room.

“I’m going with her,” Jason added, giving me just enough reason to look up. I looked at Jason, feeling my lips tremble as I looked up at the boy. He turned away from Dick, looking at me with an emotionless expression, but his eyes said everything. “Come with us,” He whispered, holding his hand out. I hesitated. When I didn’t take his hand, Jason took it as a sign of rejection, giving me a sad smile before leaning down and kissing my lips. My eyes closed, trying my best to hold in all the tears I wanted to release as I heard the sound of his steps disappear into the next room.

I felt everyone's eyes, watching me as I slowly began to break down. My cheeks grew warm and were about as red as a cherry. My eyes flooded with tears as they fluttered open. My eyes were focused on the door where Rose and Jason walked out of.

“Jason,” I whispered, finally feeling myself give in to the loss of my boyfriend. My best friend… The love of my life.

And since then, I’ve never been the same. Every time I fell asleep, that memory haunted my dreams, and there was no escape. I wake up every night sobbing, wishing Jason was here to hold me. And although it hurt, I would sometimes imagine that he was here, comforting me. His warm breath running down the back of my neck, leaving goosebumps, as I clutched onto him, with my head resting on his chest. And it really did help… but not entirely.

Anytime I missed Jason, I called. I sometimes called to see if he’d answer, but it was no luck. And even though I was sent to voicemail, I still left him messages. I hoped he listened to them and felt just as bad as I do right now, but there was no way of telling.

Sometimes, the thought of him and Rose would enter my mind, making me even more depressed than I already was. “Does he love her more than me? Is that why he left?” Those questions ran through my mind almost 24/7, but deep down, I knew why he had left.

Feeling the urge to move out of bed, I slowly got up, making a few loud grunts and groans from the relief of being in bed all day. I went into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. “Damn, I look rough,” I whispered as I rubbed my fingers against my sunken eyes. Seeing how thin my cheeks seemed, I had lost more than a couple of pounds. I looked half dead if you asked me.

With an exhausted sigh, I walked out of my room and stopped. Something strange in the atmosphere told me to go back to bed, but I didn’t listen. Instead, I walked to the kitchen, only to be stopped by the sound of Kory. It sounded like she was talking to someone. I walked to the end of the hall, which connected to the common area, where everyone once hung out, and I peered into the room. I saw Dick and Kory sitting at the counter with sad expressions, telling me something terrible had happened.

“What am I going to do? I don’t know how to tell her,” I heard Dick say as he looked away from Kory. He rested his head on his arm, much like Jason did before he left that day. I watched as Kory leaned back in her seat, taking Dick’s words in. 

When he was done speaking, Kory began to speak. “She needs to know, Dick. She hasn’t been out of this tower in 6 months because of Jason… I hate to say it, but he broke her, and now she’s slowly killing herself the more she stays in that room,” Kory told Dick.

“I know, Kory. But how do you tell someone who can barely eat that her boyfriend was reckless and impulsive and killed himself? Wouldn't that just make it worse?”

Listening to Dick and Kory’s words, I soon realized that they were speaking about Jason. I watched Kory sadly place her hand down on Dick’s leg. Suddenly it became hard to breathe as I also realize that they weren’t just talking about Jason. They were talking about telling me that Jason was dead. I felt my body slam into the wall, making a loud enough sound to get the attention of the two adults.

Dick and Kory ran over to me as I slid down the wall, clutching my chest, where my heart rests. Ugly cries exited my body as I thought of Jason being dead. Dick grabbed me, holding me in his arms as I cried in his chest. He rested his chin on top of mine and slowly rubbed my back. 

“Jason," I cried. Dick’s arms hold me tighter.

I couldn’t believe it. Jason Todd was dead. I always knew his abilities would get to his head, and that’s exactly what he did. He was cocky, and believed that he didn’t need help… that he could fight the fight by himself. And that’s what killed him. Now, I didn’t know how he died exactly, but I knew teenagers don’t just drop dead. Especially not Bruce Wayne’s kids. But, I also knew that there was a possibility that if I had accepted Jason’s offer that day, that none of this would have happened.

“I know. It hurts. Cry it out. Cry it out,” Dick muttered into my ear. Kory sadly watched the two of us as we held onto each other.

“I could have saved him,” I whispered.

“No,” Dick said sternly, pulling away from the hug. “What Jason did was on him. You probably would have had no idea what was going on, no matter if you were there or not… much like the Deathstroke thing,” he said, looking me in my eyes.

My eyes narrowed as I felt a rush of anger flow through me. “Jason only went out to fight Dr. Light 1. Because you and the “O.G. Titans” couldn’t beat him. And 2. Jason only wanted to prove to you and Bruce that he knew what he was doing. None of you ever gave him a chance,” I scowled.

“Jason did get chances to prove himself,” Dick said, making me even angrier. “And everytime, he proved that he was still reckless, still impulsive, and still full of rage. There is a reason Bruce sent him here. And when he left and went to fight Joker on his own, he was still the same Jason we all know. And that right there- that’s what got him killed,” Dick said.

The Joker ran through my head as I tried to take in everything he told me. I remember running through the streets of Gotham, hearing the name Joker, and every single bad thing he had done. How gruesome he left his victims. I could only imagine what Jason went through in the time before his death, but I knew what ran through my mind wouldn’t do the real thing justice. 

But it wasn’t just Joker running through my mind. It was also the fact that the people who didn’t give Jason a chance believed that they knew him… but they didn’t. They didn’t know the true Jason Todd. The Jason Todd I knew was kind. When it was just me and him, he didn’t want to punch a wall. We would have movie nights almost everynight back at Wayne manor. I remember sneaking into his window to see his slightly messy room, and how we would cuddle in his bed, and we would just talk about everything during the movie. Sure Jason was everything Dick described, but he was also so much more. I just wished everyone else could have seen that.

“You’re wrong.” That’s all I said before pulling out of Dick’s arms indefidently, and standing up to leave. I could hear as Dick shuffled to get up and run after me, but I think Kory stopped him, because all I heard was a quiet, “She’s grieving. Let her process this on her own, for awhile.” And with that I was out of their line of sight. 

I made my way back to my room, where all the anger and sadness I had once felt released out of me. I screamed as loud as I could as I fell to my knees. I felt the energy shift, like something new had awakened in me. My chest heaved as I began to cry harder than how I was earlier. I faced the ceiling and opened my eyes. Expecting a white ceiling to appear, I found loose objects floating in mid air.

“What is happening?” I whispered to myself. And suddenly everything fell. I looked down at my hands as a blue mist escaped my hands. I slammed my hands to the ground, making everything around me shake. I heard multiple sounds of feet slamming against the floor as the remaining Titans met up outside my door. Small murmurs appeared, but i ignored them.

I let out a small sniffle before making my way over to my bed, and climbing in, and laying down as if I never got up in the first place. I slammed my eyes shut, trying to imagine that this was all a dream, but then a small knock at my door appeared. I faced the wall as I heard the sound of my door opening before slowly shutting. I heard the sounds of a pair of shoes against the hard wood of my floors. I felt a dip in my bed, next to where my legs laid, causing me to open my eyes, but I didn’t face whoever it was.

“I’m sorry,” Dick started. “I guess I really do live up to my name. You know, after losing Donna and now Jason, I realized that I can’t loose you to.”

“Why? Because we all just learned in a span of 2 minutes that I have earthshattering powers?” I asked with a hint of anger.

“No,” He sighed. “I can’t lose you because you are a big part of this team. And I didn’t reealize it until Jason left, and you entered your current state. Both of you were such a big part of this team. You and Jason were a power team all by yourselves, with you as the brain and Jason as the brawn.” He paused, taking a deep breath. 

“At first, I hated to admit that Jason was my brother. After losing my parents in the circus, I closed myself off, not even allowing Bruce into my life. But then, after years of being closed off from the world, I eventually opened up. When Donna died, I felt just how you felt. Growing up, she was always like the big sister that knew how to keep me in control. She was my Y/N, and I was her Jason. So I understand your pain, and I want you to come with me, back to Gotham. Just you and me.”

I slowly turned facing Dick, I looked down, not wanting to look him in the eye. I gave the man a slight nod, accepting his offer. And with that, he patted my leg before getting up to leave the room.

“Dick?” I called out ot the man. He peeped his head back into the room, and I continued. “Thank you,” I said with a smile. The first smile in 6 months. Dick gave me a short nod, continueing back to were he was planning on going.

The trip to Gotham was quiet and also quite tense. This would be my first time back in Gotham without Jason, and knowing that hurt. I could tell Dock wanted to say something about it, but he remained quiet. Instead, Dick kept his eyes on the road and I kept my eyes on the different types of scenery we got with each state we drove through.

So, when we had finally made it to Wayne manor I was desperate to get out of the car. Dick pulled up in front of the entry door, and instead of being met with Alfred like always, we were met with nothing. Jason wasn’t the only person that the Wayne manor had lost. Alfred’s soul also rested in our memories.

Dick and I got out and I was met with the familiar smell of Gotham’s air. I turned to my left where I found a tree. It was the same tree I used to sneak in and out of the manor to see Jason. At least, that was until Alfred found out and convinced Bruce to let me stay with them. He only agreed to let me stay because of his obsessive need to bring in children from off the street. Children in need of a home. It only surprised us that he didn’t adopt a whole orphanage.

I continued to make my way towards the tree where I softly rubbed the rough bark which brings back a sense of nostalgia.

“Hey,” I heard from behind me. I turned to find Dick with both of our bags in his arms. I ran back over to Dick, trying to grab my bag from him, but he only responded with an “I’ve got it,” as he nudged me towards the front door.

Dick knocks at the door before remembering that it was just Bruce here. He gripped the knob and slightly twists, opening the door. I look at Dick with a scoff, “I think he forgets where he lives.” Dick laughed, as we made our way into the large home.

“Okay. You go find your old room, and put your stuff away. I’m gonna find Bruce,” Dick said, handing me my bag. I walked up the stairs feeling the small dents in the wood from where Jason would ride down the steps on his motorbike. I smiled at the memory and continued up the steps. 

I walked to my room and stopped right outside the room. I looked across the hall to where Jason used to sleep. Lucky for me, the door was shut. If it wasn’t, I probably would have broke down again. I just turned back towards my room and opened the door. The room was just as I remembered. The walls were still the same pearly white that I remembered. And the bed looked as if it hadn’t been touched since I left. The grey bedding was positioned just as Alfred had done it that morning. I didn’t have much decoration, considering I didn’t have much at the time, and I didn’t really want to be a burden towards Bruce, since he had already done so much for me. 

I flopped onto the bed, relishing in the soft sheets I had laid in once before. I stared up at the ceiling as I took a deep breath before closing my eyes. I felt almost at peace with where I was at. The only thing missing was Jason’s presence. But it was enough to put me to sleep.

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @esposadomd

[tobesolonely]

house hunting

A/n: hello!! I’ve been having a mad case of writers block, so @goldenbluesuit​‘s list of prompts was posted just in time! Thank you and i hope you all enjoy!! thank u @harryysstyless​ and @nationalharryleague​ for looking this over also :) Love u guyssss!

summary: newly engaged y/n and harry realize they have very different tastes in homes when they begin house hunting!!!

warnings: smut

word count: ~3.3k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

With all the joys that came with being engaged, there was a good deal of logistics that you hadn’t even thought of when you excitedly told Harry, “Duh, of course, I’ll marry you!” just four short months ago. Should you wed in the fall or wait until the spring? Outdoors or indoors? These were things that you and Harry went back and forth about most nights, cuddled in bed next to each other before drifting off to sleep.

Something you were most excited about, though, was finally owning a home with Harry. You practically lived together as it was, seeing that you were at his place most nights. Still, his home wasn’t yours—you were reminded every time you had to grab something forgotten from your apartment. Or when he was away for work and you couldn’t bear to be in his large, empty house by yourself.

So while you already knew each other’s grossest habits, (Harry loved asking you to pop his back pimples) you didn’t yet own a home together. Sadly, house hunting was turning out to be a less-than-joyous task when you and Harry were looking for completely different things.

“I jus’ think we’re cottage-style people… that’s all,'' your fiancé’s hand rests on your thigh while you wait in his car for the real estate agent to arrive. “This one’s nice, yeah, but is it who we are?”

You refrain from rolling your eyes at him. “You’re only saying that because they remind you of home.”

“So? They’re lovely,” he sounds a little defensive, but not mad. Your response  to Harry is interrupted as the real estate agent pulls into the driveway.

“Be nice,” you remind him as you open your door to let yourself out. “I understand the Craftsman isn’t your first choice, but she worked hard to find this place for us. At least go into it with an open mind.”

Your fiancé mutters something under his breath, but you know he’ll behave himself––he didn’t have a mean bone in his body. Harry’s demeanor immediately changes once the real estate agent is within earshot, turning on his signature English charm. “Thank you for meeting my fiancée and me today. We’re both very excited to check out this lovely home.”

Since you’re privy to the reality of the situation, you can tell he’s laying it on a bit thick, but your agent is loving it. “You’ll both fall in love, I know it,” she begins her ascent up the long driveway and you and Harry follow behind hand-in-hand. “Six bedrooms, eleven bathrooms, and nearly twenty thousand square feet. You can’t beat it.”

Harry seems unphased by the enormous size of the house, but your breath hitches in your throat. Did the two of you actually need this much room? The house appeared to be even bigger than the one Harry owned now––you knew you would hate staying here when he was away for work except this time, you wouldn’t have a quaint apartment and a roommate to go back to when you were feeling lonely.

“H, ‘s kinda big…” you’re trying to speak quietly enough so the real estate agent doesn’t hear you. “I don’t know if I like it.”

“What’s tha’? We haven’t even gotten inside, love,” Harry stops walking to give you his full attention. “You don’t like it?”

“Just the driveway by itself is enormous,” you feel your cheeks growing warm. “I would be too scared to stay here by myself.”

Harry hums in agreement. “Can we have just a moment, please?” He sweetly turns to face the real estate agent who insists you take your time, walking farther up the driveway to give the two of you privacy.

“We’ve not seen the inside, doll. Gotta at least do that,” Harry’s hands run along your bare arms. “‘Member what you jus’ told me? Let’s go into it with an open mind. Don’t have to place an offer on it or anything.”

“Okay…” you’re reluctant and Harry can tell, but neither one of you want to be rude to the real estate agent. “You’re right. I guess it doesn’t hurt to just check it out.”

Harry gives you a dimpled grin. “Y’never know. Might fall in love with it, puppy,” Harry leans in so close that you can feel his breath on your nose. “Besides, think of all the rooms we’d get to have a shag in if we moved in here.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“I hate it.”

“What’s there to hate? Look at how cozy it is.”

“Don’t like the color.”

“It’s nothing to slap a fresh coat of paint on the outside.”

You open your mouth and then close it in defeat. He wasn’t wrong. You let Harry lead you around the perimeter of the house while you wait for your real estate agent to arrive to let you in—Harry’s animatedly talking about all the renovations that can be done to upgrade the house (even stating he could do some of them himself) and deep down you know this is the house you will end up living in. 

“So sorry I’m late,” the agent’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. “There was an accident on the 405–made traffic a nightmare.” 

“No worries at all,” Harry says cheerily. “We’re just excited to get inside and take a look at this place. It’s gorgeous.” 

The lady doesn’t even try to hide her surprise. “Really? I agree that it’s a beautiful home, but I thought it would be your last choice given it’s on the smaller side.” 

“How many bedrooms?” You change the subject,  gazing at the house in front of you. You thought it was rather large, but to each their own. 

“Five bedrooms, four and a half bathrooms.”

You glance over at your fiancé, who appeared to be deep in thought—he was most likely calculating if five bedrooms would be enough to host friends and family who came to visit. 

“That’s perfect,” he says after a moment, squeezing your hand in excitement. “We’d love to get inside.” 

The real estate agent mutters a quiet, “please, follow me” to which you and Harry oblige. She leads you up a gorgeous cobblestone pathway that ends at weathered brick stairs. Harry lightly placed his hands on your waist as you ascended the three steps, knowing you tended to be on the clumsy side. 

“Porch is nice, innit?” Harry says to you, lowering his gaze so he’s looking square in your eyes. “I can see us ‘avin a cup of coffee in the mornin’ while lookin’ out at the street.”

Your husband-to-be was trying to sell you on the home more than your real estate agent was––you weren’t mad at it. You simply hum in agreement, not wanting to fully give into Harry just yet.

The real estate agent unlocks the door and ushers the both of you ahead of her, wiping her feet on the mat before entering the home. It was beautiful. The floor plan was open, the living room flowing easily into the kitchen which led into the dining room. Large windows let in plenty of natural sunlight, which you know Harry appreciated. 

You listen attentively as the real estate agent gives her typical spiel, informing you about the history of the house (and how all the wood fixtures were original). Harry is long gone, tucked away in some other part of the house, most likely examining the crown molding or something of the sort.

“...because the floor plan is so open, it’s the perfect space for entertaining.”

“So true,” you respond politely, looking around the space. “I was just thinking that. I’m sure Harry would agree... wherever he ran off to.”

“He’s a fan of this one, I take it?” She’s walking again, leading you to the back of the house.

“Oh, definitely. He’s been telling me we’re “cottage people” to warm me up to the idea of moving in here.”

“Is it working?”

You let out a quiet giggle. “Surprisingly, yes.”

“Babe, come look at this bedroom. S’gonna be ours!” Harry calls out to you from deeper in the house and you furrow your brows as you try to determine what room he ducked into.

“Where are you, love?” 

“‘M in here!”

You roll your eyes at how Harry did nothing to clarify his exact location for you, but you quickly figure it out, anyway. While the house was large, it was nowhere as big as some places you’ve already looked at which you appreciated.

Once reunited with Harry, he immediately reaches for your hand and pulls you into him. The bedroom you’re now standing in has floor-to-ceiling windows, an adjoining bathroom, and even a fireplace. It was stunning.

“This room is nice,” you say quietly, leaning into his touch. Harry nods.

“S’our room. Can’t you just picture us sleepin’ in here? Relaxin’?” He leans in close to your ear. “Fuckin’?”

A shiver immediately runs through your body at your fiancé’s vulgarity, but you try your best to play off your reaction as you turn to face the real estate agent. “Let’s see the rest of the place, yeah?”

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No one warned you about how much work went into actually closing on a home.

It was a long process. You were glad you had Harry, who had financial advisors, to help you close on the deal. You and Harry ended up going with the cottage home, of course, which ultimately was the best choice for what the two of you needed at the moment. 

Waiting to move in seemed like it took a lifetime, even though it was only a couple weeks. Your apartment was a mess of boxes and packing tape, and you were glad you had your roommate to help you gather the things you still had left there (since you had basically already moved in with Harry as it was).

When the day finally came to move all your boxes into your new home, you were more than ready to get it over with. You weren’t sure how Harry could remain in such high spirits engaging in such an arduous task (you were honestly feeling quite crabby), so you let Harry deal with the movers lest you accidentally lose your cool and snap at someone. He kept offering to help them move things, feeling guilty for just standing around while they heaved your extensive amount of belongings around, but they kept insisting they were fine. Your fiancé opted to contribute by going to the kitchen and making them lemonade and little sandwiches, instead.

“We have a lot of stuff, don’t we?” Harry glances up at you as you walk into the kitchen, a mischievous look on his face.

“What’s this we? Pretty sure they’re struggling to carry your things around, not mine,” you snake your arms around Harry’s waist. “Maybe we can have a garage sale? Get to know some neighbors too, hmm?”

“Weird to sell Gucci at a garage sale, innit?” Harry cuts a sandwich into four perfect triangles and sets them beside him on a platter he must’ve dug out of some box. You shrug.

“I’m sure you’re not the only person in this neighborhood who can afford Gucci.”

Harry hums in response, continuing to slather spread onto the sandwiches he was making. “Can you go offer these to the movers? Ask ‘em if they want lemonade or water, too.” He tilts his head toward the tray on the other side of the counter and you reach around him to grab it.

“Look at you makin’ everyone snacks and whatnot. So domestic,” you tease, grabbing Harry’s cheek and pinching firmly. “It’s getting me all hot.”

“Yeah?” He questions, going along with your playful pestering. “Y’like it?”

“Fuckin’ love it,” you coo, giving him bedroom eyes. Harry throws his head back, letting out a loud guffaw. You exit the kitchen and go from person to person, kindly offering them sandwiches which they are more than happy to accept.

The movers finish a couple of hours later, your beautiful home still just as beautiful, but now a myriad of boxes and trash bags. The two of you had absolutely no furniture yet, seeing as Harry wanted to buy everything new instead of bringing the furniture from his old home for reasons you were still unsure of.

Harry settled on making the two of you sandwiches for supper, seeing as that was the only food you had in the entire house, and neither one of you felt like running to the store to buy anything else. He pours two tall glasses of lemonade before carefully walking to where you sat cross-legged on the floor of the living room.

“Our new home...,” Harry trails off, looking around the cluttered space. “The first thing that’s ours.”

“I could cry,” you reply, voice slightly shaky. “Like, it’s just so surreal. We can really decorate however we want and celebrate holidays–”

“Gonna fight wif’ each other ‘n love on each other,” he adds. “Grow old with each other... so happy you’re all mine and ‘m all yours.”

Your heart swells at Harry’s words. He can always tell when you’re growing emotional––he knows you better than anyone else, after all––and he quickly moves closer to you, pulling you into his side. Neither one of you says anything, there’s nothing that needs to be said. You opt to bask in each other’s company and the comfortable silence that fills the dim living room. Out of the corner of your eye you notice Harry scoot the food and drinks out of the way before he pulls you fully into his lap.

“I can’t wait for all of it,” you wrap your arms around his neck, sucking lightly on the area where the skin of his jaw trails into his neck. “Can’t wait to have it all with you.”

“Know what ‘m lookin’ forward to the most?” You hum. “Lookin’ forward to the baby makin’.”

Your breath hitches in your throat at Harry’s admission. Sure, you’ve discussed children before––you were getting married! Still, he catches you off-guard.

“Yeah?”

“Mmm,” his hand slowly makes its way underneath your shirt, loving how he already had you squirming under him.

“I’ve got it,” you mumble quietly, moving away from him. You expertly unclasp your bra and fling it out of the way, letting it join the rest of the mess that litters the floor of your home.

“This is really the first place we’re gonna shag in, then?” Harry asks breathlessly, sucking roughly against your collarbone. 

You shrug your shoulders before moving to tangle your hands in Harry’s hair. “The entire house is a mess, this is as good a spot as any.”

“Can’t argue with that,” he mutters, trailing his hands down your body until he gets to your bottom. He easily shimmies your tight leggings down your legs, having done this many, many times before. “Gonna help me christen every room in this house, angel?”

“Yeah,” you’re quick to respond. You wish there was more kissing and less talking going on, but your arrogant fiancé loved two things: teasing you, and the sound of his own voice. “Can I have a kiss?”

“Where do ya want that kiss?”

“Get your mind outta the gutter,” you plead, tilting your head to the side so Harry can access your neck easier. “My lips.” 

You know what Harry’s going to say before he says it. “Which ones?”

“H, come on,” you whine, tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck. “Gimmie one.” 

Harry finally gives into your requests and presses his lips delicately against yours, humming in pleasure as he feels you sink deeper into the kiss. “I’m messin’ with ya, Y/N. I could never pass on givin’ ya a kiss.” 

“I’m glad,” you answer triumphantly, shamelessly stealing another kiss from him. 

“Gonna go all the way with me on our living room floor? Dirty girl, you are,” Harry says quietly, gently removing you from his lap. He helps you lay back on the floor, but not before bunching up your leggings for you to use as a pillow. 

“All good?” 

“Mmm,” you reach up for him, wanting to feel his lips against yours once again. He doesn’t give in so easily—not this time. Harry allows you to take his plump upper lip into your mouth before pulling away just out of your reach. You let out a pitiful whimper which causes Harry to puff out his chest, his ego getting the best of him. 

“Gonna make ya feel so good,” he says quietly, rubbing his palm against your core. Your underwear was still on and you knew he was approximately four seconds away from ripping them off.

“I know,” you answer quickly. “I know, H.”

“You sound impatient.”

“I just wanna get on with it.”

Harry sits back on his heels. “What’s tha’ rush? Jus’ us, yeah? Jus’ me?”

“I need it,” you say under your breath. You were usually quite vocal in bed with Harry, but something about the way his gaze fixed on you had butterflies fluttering all-around your stomach.

“What do you need?” Harry taps your bum while he’s saying this, signaling for you to lift yourself slightly off the ground so he can get them around your ankles. 

“I need you in me,” you whisper. You knew he knew exactly where you needed him, but you’d stroke his ego a bit if it meant he’d fuck you just how you wanted him to. “Hard. F-fast.”

“I can manage that,” he cheekily replies, giving his hard cock three tugs before pressing himself to your entrance. “Don’t want me to eat ya out or summat?”

“No,” you answer entirely too quickly. “Please just fuck me, H-”

He understands just how needy and desperate you are now and wastes no more time, swiftly entering your tight cunt like he was made just for you. Your body always molded together so perfectly––no one knew you better than he did. When you were really pressed for time, he could get you off in less than five minutes. Although his pace is relentless tonight though, there is no rush. 

You felt full in such a way that only Harry could make happen. You let out a loud moan as he moves your leg ever so slightly to angle you in such a way that he knew would hit your spongy walls deep inside of you.

“Y’like it? Like me fuckin’ into ya like this?”

“Love it,” you moan breathlessly, reaching to cradle your tits. Harry raises his eyebrows, pace faltering slightly.

“What are you bein’ so quiet for? S’no one here except us,” he reaches in between your sweaty bodies to flick your clit. “Can feel you clenchin’ ‘round me–are you gonna come, puppy? Come around my cock?”

His teasing is all it takes for you to cum around him, clenching down so tightly that it takes a surprising deal of strength for him to keep moving. Harry follows shortly behind you, letting out an animalistic groan that sounds downright filthy. In that moment, you were glad that there was no one else in the house because if there was, they definitely would’ve heard you and Harry coming down from your respective highs together. He speaks after a moment, chest still heaving.

“One room down, the rest of the house to go.”

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as always, please let me know what you thought here!