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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years ago

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HASO, “The Harbinger.”

It was nice to finally write this piece, and sorry for not posting for the last two days. With my work schedule, weekends for me sometimes fall in the middle of the week.

Hope you all have a great day!

“This is going to be a disaster.”

Overhead the UN flag snapped in the wind desperately trying to cool their bodies from the beating Sun.

“So you say, but I disagree.” She glanced down at the crew roster in her hands, “The boy really did his research, asked for people specifically, all the way down to the marines. A lot of them crewed the original enterprise. If this were a deck of cards I would say he has a royal flush.”

The other Admiral grunted but didn’t argue with her.

The man had never personally be into space, never even visited mars, so he didn’t pretend to know more than she did, while simultaneously being skeptical. She could deal with that, but at least he respected her enough to have trusted her decision.

Together they stood on the tarmac of the launch field.

The new ship wasn’t there as it had been built completely off-earth at Europa station considering how massive the ship was and how unwieldy the thing would have been in atmosphere. However, someone had taken the time to throw up some projectors, showing the view at Europa station as the last finishing touches were added, and cargo was loaded into her hull.

Across the Tarmac, they watched as Captain Vir stepped from UNSC headquarters and out onto the pavement. If the boy had any more bounce in his step he might as well have been skipping as he made his way up to the lectern and sat just off to the side on a metal folding chair. There were still other speeches to be given, those being the UN president, a few other major officials, and a broadcast by the GA, who were very pleased with their decision despite continuous grumbling by UNSC officers who still thought the boy was going to screw it all up.

The other admiral turned his head to look at her, “just look at him, he’s like a puppy, probably gonna piss all over himself with excitement.”

Admiral Kelly looked over to where he was sitting, on the edge of his folding chair, hands casper before him and one leg bouncing like a jackhammer against the pavement. There WAS something surprisingly doglike about him, “Oh give him a chance. I was just as excited as he was to fly my first mission, the difference was I didn’t show it. You can hardly blame a man for wearing his heart on his sleeve.” “More like smack in the middle of his forehead.”

“Give him a chance.”

He glanced over at her, “You’re fond of him.”

“He makes it easy to be fond of him.”

The UNp resident finished with his speech and stepped down from the lectern.

“Oh here we go, what is it gonna be, a cheesy joke and a Star Wars reference.”

She glanced at him from over her shoulder, “how do you know about star wars?”

He blushed only slightly, “I have a son who is into that old vintage stuff.”

“Mmmmm Hmmm.” She said pointedly before turning back to Captain Vir as he stood from his seat. She watched as he took a deep breath to calm himself, and then walked slowly up to the lectern his back straight, his expression serious

She smiled as she watched her friend’s eyebrow raise in surprise.

“Just over a year ago I sat in a VA hospital wondering if I was ever going to walk again, Eight months ago, I wondered if I was going to survive, six months ago I wondered if I would ever fully recover, and one week ago I wondered what kind of drugs the brass was smoking to offer me this job.” He smiled slightly as the crowd laughed, “All joking aside, I am privileged and honored to have been chosen. I know there has been a lot of controversy behind my appointment to this position, and Ithink Admiral kelly especially for her faith in me. I am not going to delude myself into thinking I can make any promises about whether or not I will succeed, but I can promise that I will do my best, which is as much as any man can promise considering such uncertain circumstances.”

He glanced down at his papers as the wind tugged at his cap, “As we speak the last cargo is being loaded onto my ship in preparation for our first deployment into the stars. I have thought long and hard in preparation, and for a proper name for the ship that will help usher in a new age of cooperation and companionship between us and extraterrestrial life. Sleepless nights, hours with the Oxford dictionary, and plenty of inappropriate suggestions from family members…” He paused there to allow a light chuckle from the crowd, “Hours and hours of thought and planning,...” he paused smiling ruefully, “I actually found the perfect word while out with my dad searching for new tractor parts. You know how these companies are, they have to make their tractor parts sound really manly or they’re worried we won’t buy them.” There was another slight chuckle from the crowd, “Anyway, the word I found means ‘ something that comes before and that shows what will follow in the future, a herald, a precursor or a forerunner. The word I chose and the name that my ship will take is Harbinger, a herald of things to come, the forerunner of humanity’s expansion into the stars and our alliance with alien races. She will be a harbinger, but a harbinger of good things to come. The crew of the harbinger will uphold all the values and oaths of the UNSC, protect, when others cannot, sacrifice when others will not, and fight when others actively rise against those that we protect.”

He went quiet as the un flag snapped behind him in the breeze.

“I give my soul to this endeavor with every fiber of my being, and I ask for my crew to do the same.”

***

Europa station 1200 hours EST

UNSC identification badges must be worn at all times.

“Now remember, she’s got six main engines, the back one is the most powerful but make sure to use your left and right for maneuvering to keep power. Never fire the warp core andt the engines at the same time unless you want to end up a thousand light years away and by all that is holy try very hard not to initiate that shatter sequence if you can help it.” Europa station director, and lead commander on the build team led him across the open deck and towards the open cargo ramp.

Adam’s eyes were wide, stuck open with awe as they approached the ship. He had seen her only once in her full glory, having asked the shuttle to take a quick tour around the Europa station so he could get a good look at her where she was docked

By all rights she was as aesthetically pleasing as a cinder block, but he thought she was beautiful all the same.

The man pulled him to a halt waving over another figure who had, up till that point, been busy shouting orders to a group of grey jumpsuits people who scrambled to do her bidding.

She stopped yelling at them long enough to turn and walk over.

“Captain, I would like to introduce you to your Chief Engineering officer Narobi. She knows everything there is to know about this ship. If she so much as suspects something might go wrong, you listen to her, no dumbass macho man act, and no blowing her off because she's probably more important than you will be when it comes to keeping this beauty in the air.”

She was tall just an inch or two shorter than him with dark skin and hard brown eyes. She wore one of those grey jumpsuits of the other engineers, but had wrapped a bright orange and red scarf around her head, tied up in a decorative knot. She was probably the most beautiful woman he had ever seen though the look on her face made it very clear that she wasn’t the type to hold such things at a high priority. Looking into her cold hard eyes he had no doubt that she was ready and willing to brain him with a pipe if he ever deserved it.

Adam held out a hand to her, “A pleasure to meet you-”

She took his hand, her grip as a calloused vice against his. He hadn’t expected that and grimaced as her fingers crushed his, she leaned in very close, “You see that ship right there, captain.”

He squeaked out a response, suddenly afraid for the safety of his bones.

“That right there, that ship, is mine. You may pilot my ship, and I will even allow you to talk about her like she’s yours, but at the end of the day she is mine. I take care of her, I fix her when she is sick and I keep her in the air. You treat MY ship well and we won’t have any problems.”

She squeezed again just a little harder before letting go, and he took back his hand waving it slightly to disperse the apin, “Got it, she is your baby.” He grinned at her, “Strong grip you have there, though I’d like to keep my hands for flying next time if that’s cool.”

His smile seemed to throw her off guard and she frowned slightly, “I…. I’m sorry I was sort of expecting….”

“Some raging asshole on a power trip….?”

“Something like that.”

“It’s ok, I get it.” he flexed his fingers and waved at her as he was carted off. She stared after him eyes narrowed slightly and a look of confusion on her face .

That boy is either a real idiot or a scapegoat for the UNSC who thinks he’s going to fail

Adam stepped onto the ramp before him and headed up into the interior of the ship wide eyed like a child and bouncing with excitement. When he reached the top of the ramp he looked around watching as men and women hurried to stow cargo and do last minute checkers to see if everything was strapped down.

Turning he found a group of marines standing in one corner receiving orders on how to help. One of the marines turned, and they locked eyes.

The marine’s face was split with a matching grin, and he broke formation to race across the floor. Adam did the same, and by the end they had the entire cargo hold’s attention as they met in an embrace each of them trying to squeeze the life out of the other. Eventually Adam used his superior height to pick up the other marine and spin him around once before setting him down.

“I knew you loved me but I didn’t know it was that much.:”

Adam grinned, “ramirez you son of a bitch. I missed you.”

“I can hardly blame you.” He winked a grin splitting his handsome face, “Last time I saw you, you were on a shuttle to Anin.” His smile died slightly, “I heard about what happened, I’m sorry to hear….” He glanced down at Adam’s leg before a smile lit up his face again, “On the brightside, you’re a cyborg now, can I see?”

Adam was surprised, not entirely used to people being so bold about wanting to see the prosthetic but, well it made him feel better, and he liked the idea of being a cyborg, so he pulled up his pant leg to give the marine a good look.

“Damn! How far does that go?”

“Buy me dinner and find out.”

The marine looked up, grinned and laughed, “Wow look at you. Not even blushing either you raging prude.”

“I only blush when I’m attracted to people.”

“Ouch, rude.”

Adam grinned and patted Ramirez on the shoulder, “I am glad you took my offer.”

“Glad to receive it. They’ve had me sitting on my ass over at fort Georga for the past year, and man being a marine is a lot less fun when you aren’t out being abducted by aliens.”

“That I can understand. Anyway, I gotta get up to the bridge, but I’ll catch up with you later, alright.”

“Later then.” The marine jogged off and he turned back to see some of the officers staring at him. He just shrugged, smiled and allowed them to lead him up and onto the bridge. The moment he stepped in was like, like nothing he could have ever dreamed. The station was facing towards jupiter, and glowing light from her swirling surface filtered in on the command center seats, and the captain’s chair was placed high above it.

It took every fiber of his being not to jump up and down squealing like a child. Even so he couldnt stop the stupid little dance that led him over to the chair. He could still sense the others staring at him, but he didn’t much care, sliding into the seat and feeling a warm rush of pure joy shooting through him like fire.

He leaned back in his seat.

Then he reached into the little pocket at the front fo his uniform and pulled out the small notebook there.

“Preflight!”

The officers hurried to their stations, and watching them rush at his words sent another thrill through him.

Engines

Warp core

Crew

Cargo

He rubbed his hands as they were almost done, “And one last and most important part of the preflight.”

They all turned to look at him, as he scrolled through his downloaded playlist, “You can’t just launch a ship without some epic tunes. My life didn’t come with a preset soundtrack so I guess I have to make my own.” They stared at him, but he just grinned and turned on his pre picked music selection. It had been difficult to chose, but he had finally made a decision.

The crew shifted almost nervously as they looked back and forth between each other unsure if they wanted to be a crew under this lunatic.

Adam engaged the microphone for the rest of the ship, “Alright Ladies, gentlemen and…. marines , welcome to the Harbinger, please keep your hands and feet inside the car for the duration of the trip, don’t throw marshmallows at neutron stars and no playing golf out the airlock. Next destination, Andromeda.” He let go of the announcement button and sat back in his seat.

“Harbinger ready for launch in Ten…” He engaged the countdown, and the crew rushed to their positions. He felt the rumbling of the engines as they engaged below him, and took control of the manual drive as the ankers were disengaged from his ship. There was a sharp thud as they disengaged from the airlock.

He slowly adjusted their rotating engines.

The ships engines fired, and he took control of the ship, gently maneuvering her away from Europa with all the skill and finesse of an eagle riding an updraft.

He pressed the button to call down to the engine room.

“Captain Vir calling for report.”

Nairobi’s voice came over the intercom, “She’s practically singing, Captain.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

He let the com drop, “Engage warp core.”

Europa station was already receding into the backdrop against the massive glowing orb of jupiter.”

“How far?”

“Safe warp distance approaching in in ten…”

He flipped up the switch on his chair, and waited for the count.

Their navigator turned to look at him and gave a thumbs up. At that moment he shut off the engines, and flipped the switch for warp following the targeting directory and input.

The entire crew braced themselves for warp, many of them remembering what it had felt like the first time.

Luckily for them it was a long warp, so it wouldn’t be so instantaneous.

Adam’s eyes went wide as he watched the stars bend around them. His teeth flashed white.

He had a good feeling about this.

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period-dramallama · 3 years ago

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Thoughts on Domina (2021)

-Definitely one of those shows that got better as it went along.

-The first two episodes were not very good at developing character imo. I didn’t feel any chemistry at all between Young Livia and Young Gaius.

-I was also confused in the first two episodes as to who’s who- and I’m a total nerd for this era!

-They skipped the civil war...I kinda wanted to see Gaius and Livia grow together.

-first two episodes also felt very rushed. I wanted each scene to be longer to have proper character introductions. just too many characters introduced at once without giving them moments to distinguish between their personalities.

-Would have been nice to see Gaius/Octavius/Augustus be a bit more cunning rather than just killing people all the time.

-On the other hand, the fact that he spent all of episode 8 killing people actually aided the episode imo, because it created tension before the last scene. Him cleaning his knife and Livia all vulnerable in her white nightdress. There was a great contrast between his brutal assassinations and him refusing to even raise his voice at Livia.

-The last scene!! So tender, the expressions, the touch, “I love you, Livia Drusilla”.

-The suspense of the last scene doesn’t really work if you’re a history nerd who came into this show knowing that Livia died aged 86 of pneumonia. Still, I can appreciate the suspense from an aesthetic point of view.

-Hugs between macho straight male friends, we love to see it!

-Gaius crying on Livia’s shoulder at the end of episode four- was that because of reconciling with Agrippa? Or because Livia came back? Or both?

-Internal conflict was something this show did well- a character having multiple motivations that sometimes directly contradict each other. Livia loving Gaius but also wanting the Republic back and also wanting to protect her sons from Marcellus...I love it.

-Marcellus and Julia were already miserable, him raping her added literally nothing.

-Ditto the wedding night rape. Livia and her husband had other reasons to quarrel, him being aggressive added nothing, it didn’t have any proper consequences.

-The only gay characters being Aprio and Marcellus.... did not love that. They tried to work around it by having characters state Nothing Unusual for Two Men to Bang but imho... just don’t make your gay character a rapist for no reason?? Especially as the Nothing Unusual for Two Men to Bang line is spoken by a character who said two seconds earlier that A Wife Must Do Her Marital Duty When Her Husband Demands.

-Why so much peeing? We get it- you read in a history book that Romans used sponges on sticks, and now you want to shove that factoid in wherever possible.

-I don’t think Antigone was a Black Best Friend. She was black, she was Livia’s best friend, but I don’t think she counts as an example of the Black Best Friend trope as she had more agency in her storyline. It was her decision to start poisoning people, and getting revenge was something she did for herself, not Livia, and as she said “I’m not your personal poisoner.” I liked how her revenge storyline fed into the main plot.

-too much use of the F word. When it’s used as a comma, it loses its power. Also, these are Roman matrons. I think the bad language would have more impact if it was saved for moments of extreme stress. (Like Livia going “fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck” in one of the later episodes).

#domina sky #domina 2021 #period drama

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thatsamericano · 4 years ago

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Take My Hand, Take My Whole Life Too

Pairings/Characters: America/Romano. Background Gerita, and Seborga and Prussia are there too. Very brief appearances from Denmark and Lithuania in the video, as well as a ton of other characters who don’t get lines.

Rating: Teen, but only for cursing. Very fluffy, and no warnings to speak of.

Word Count: 2518

Summary: America sends Romano a special video for his birthday. He isn’t Elvis Presley, but it’s the best rendition of the song Romano’s ever heard.

A/N: I wanted to post something fluffy for Romano’s birthday. This will be up on AO3 soon.

It had been a nice, quiet birthday for Romano so far. Feli’s macho potato had dropped by to spend the day with him, and Prussia had tagged along too. Savino was glad Gilbert and Marcello were here, because otherwise he would’ve been stuck third-wheeling the sappiest couple in the world on his own birthday. Spain and Belgium had said they would arrive in a couple hours, which Romano was looking forward to as well. Most of the people who had sent his little brother a happy birthday message had remembered to send one to him too. America had sent them both silly e-cards, and the gifts he’d sent had arrived a week early and would be unwrapped along with all the others after they frosted the cake.

Romano was not lonely, especially not for someone who would’ve had to fly across a whole ocean to see him. He only threw a spatula at Germany’s head when he leaned in to kiss Feli right after he put the cake in the oven because the sight of the potato bastard kissing his little brother grossed him out to no end.

Feliciano pouted at him. “Fratello, that wasn’t very nice of you.”

“I had to stop you two before I lost my appetite. I want to actually be able to eat a slice of cake later!”

Germany muttered something under his breath, and Seborga giggled while Prussia ruffled his hair. “Relax, Savi. It’s your birthday.”

Romano shoved Gilbert’s hand away. “I’m relaxing just fine, damn it.” He walked over to the counter to check his phone, which had received a few new messages since he and Feli had started making their joint birthday cake.

As he was reading a message from New Zealand (who seemed to be confused by the time difference and hoped their message had arrived on time), a new text popped up on his phone. From America.

“Huh, that’s weird.”

“What’s weird?” Marcello asked.

“America sent me a link to a Youtube video.” Alfred liked to upload a lot of strange things on Youtube, including cooking videos with his twin, recordings of him prank calling England, and the occasional stunt that would’ve turned Savino’s hair gray if he’d aged like a human. Seriously, what the fuck had possessed him to surf down a staircase on a fucking ironing board?

The message before the link was cryptic as hell. Happy bday. Here’s an extra present for you. 😉 Hope you enjoy.🎶 Knowing America, Romano wouldn’t have been too surprised if he’d opened up the link and seen that one Rick Astley song the idiota still thought was funny to send to people. But Feli immediately got excited about it.

“Oh, he finally sent you the video! I thought he’d do that a month ago!”

Prussia smirked as Feli rushed over to them. “Nah, Al had always planned to upload it today.”

Germany came over with a subtle hint of a smile on his face, like he knew what all this was about too. At least Marcello still looked baffled as he leaned over to get a look at Savino’s phone.

“What the fuck are you assholes up to?” Savino didn’t like this feeling. He didn’t like that everyone except his baby brother had been plotting something behind his back.

“It isn’t bad, Romano,” Germany promised. “Just open the link and you’ll see.”

Romano didn’t trust Germany further than he could throw him, and the guy was way too heavy for him to even lift. But if Germany thought it was okay, it probably wasn’t a video involving the kinds of ridiculous shenanigans America liked to film, and it certainly was nowhere near as heart-attack inducing as some of the videos he’d seen Fredo post (especially if Prussia or Denmark were egging him on). Savino squinted at Ludwig suspiciously before he clicked on the link.

It wasn’t Rick Astley. The video started with a black screen. “No, Gil, you’re supposed to press the red button!” The voice sounded like Denmark.

“Magnus, I pressed the red button!” That was Prussia.

“Guys, maybe we could use my iPhone instead?” America asked. His voice sounded uncharacteristically strained and nervous. “The quality won’t be as good, but at this point Vinny’s probably given up anyway.”

Suddenly, the image of a white dress shirt with a navy tie (and an inexplicable ukulele) appeared on the screen. The camera zoomed out a little, and he could see Alfred smiling at him in a crowded bar with many nations Romano knew well, and many who were only acquaintances. Denmark rushed past him, but Romano could scarcely take his eyes off America. He was wearing the same outfit he’d seen him in on the day of the last world meeting he’d attended a couple months ago in Berlin, and he was cradling a ukulele in his arms. His warm smile, as always, made Romano’s heart skip a beat. But there was a hint of anxiety in his crystal blue eyes, and that made Romano wish he was there to talk to America and help him with whatever seemed to be bothering him.

“Hey, Vinny! Right now it’s still January, but by the time I upload this video, it will be your birthday, so happy birthday, dude! I hope you’re having a good day with your brothers.” He chuckled. “You guys will probably need a huge cake if you’re gonna blow out all your birthday candles.”

Romano rolled his eyes. “That’s what numbered candles are for, idiota,” he murmured.

“Anyway, I know I’m not the best singer in the world—” Prussia snickered from behind the camera and America glared at him sharply before relaxing back into the smile he’d had on his face before. “But I’ve been practicing this song a lot, so hopefully you’ll like it.”

Romano wondered which song it was. If it was the Italian version of “Happy Birthday,” America wouldn’t need a ukulele, and this video would not be three and a half minutes in length.

America started strumming the ukulele, and it wasn’t the “Happy Birthday” song. Savino vaguely recognized the melody, and apparently Feliciano knew what the song was, because he was bouncing next to him and muffling squeals behind his hand. Savino was tempted to smack him, but that would involve looking away from his phone.

Then, America started to sing in a shaky but surprisingly clear voice, staring straight at the camera. “Wise men say, only fools rush in…”

Marcello gasped. “He didn’t!”

“Oh, he totally did,” Prussia replied smugly.

Savino was too emotional to talk. He teared up as Alfred continued with the next line. “But I can’t help falling in love with you.” Fredo’s voice was full of sincerity, like he actually meant it, like he actually loved him. For so long, Romano had assumed his feelings for America were completely one-sided, that he would have to ignore them as much as possible, vainly hope they might disappear, and move on with his life as best he could. But clearly, he had been wrong, and the proof was that America was serenading him with a love song. On his birthday.

America started walking backwards with his ukulele, and Prussia’s camera followed him. At the end of the first verse, he’d reached a booth with Spain, Portugal, Belgium, the Netherlands and Luxembourg. They all held up signs wishing him a happy birthday in various languages as they sang the last line together. Spain waved and Belgium winked at the camera, and America grinned as he kept walking through the bar.

He briefly stopped by other groups of people to allow them to hold up signs wishing Romano a happy birthday as he sang. Russia, his sisters, and Canada. Lithuania, Estonia, Latvia and Poland. Hungary, Austria, Germany, Switzerland, and Liechtenstein. China, Japan, Taiwan, Vietnam, and South Korea. France, Monaco, all the UK countries, and Ireland. Australia, New Zealand, Seychelles, and Kenya. Greece, Turkey, and Egypt. All the Nordics too. It was the sweetest, most romantic thing anyone had ever done for Romano. America must have gone to so much effort to orchestrate something like this, to gather so many countries together in one bar in Berlin and convince them to go along with his plan. Savino smiled as he kept watching the video. Maybe Alfred wasn’t as good a singer as Elvis Presley or any of the many people who had covered this song, but his performance was heartfelt, and Savino loved every second of it.

Near the end, all of the countries sang the line “For I can’t help falling in love with you” together and held up their happy birthday signs. The bartender and some confused humans sang along with them. Savino laughed as Alfred chuckled sheepishly in the video, cheeks turning pink because this was an unusually public spectacle, even for him.

Alfred repeated the final chorus and sang with just him and the ukulele, as he had begun the song. “Take my hand, take my whole life too.” His eyes were shining with tears, and not the happy kind Savino had been shedding since the second line of the song. “For I can’t help falling in love with you.” He repeated the final line then took a deep breath.

“So, yeah. That uhh… wasn’t just a song.” America glanced off to the side. “I’ve kinda been hopelessly in love with you for a while.”

“About 90 years, give or take!” a tipsy voice shouted from off camera. It sounded just like Lithuania, the few times he’d had a little too much to drink at a speakeasy back when he, America, and Romano all lived together. Romano remembered those days fondly.

America hunched his shoulders with a pained look on his face. “Yeah. What Tolys said. You mean a lot to me, Vinny, both as a friend and possibly more, if you want that. If you just wanna stay friends, that’s cool. I hope you liked the song. Happy birthday.”

The screen abruptly cut to black, and the video ended. Savino wiped his eyes and looked up at Feliciano. “This is… this is why we had to fly back right away, isn’t it? Our boss didn’t call you.”

Feli shook his head. “I lied. America asked me to lie so he could surprise you with that video.”

“I can’t believe he did that for me.” Part of Savino felt like he didn’t deserve it, but a much bigger part of him was too selfish to care about what he did or didn’t deserve. He just wanted to be happy. “I wish he was here,” Romano confessed quietly. “I wish I could tell him I feel the same way.” And he wanted to kiss away every tear that idiota had ever cried over him, which was long overdue.

Savino ignored his little brothers cooing over what he had just said and tried not to bristle at the fact that even Germany seemed to think it was adorable. Prussia, weirdly enough, was too busy texting on his phone to join in on the overbearing fawning.

Gilbert chuckled at something on his phone. “Alfred’s a lot closer than you think. He decided to skip the Saint Paddy’s Day parade this year.” He grinned up at Romano, who instantly got the message. Alfred wasn’t celebrating with his Irish-American citizens. He was here in Italy, and it wouldn’t take much effort for Romano to find him.

He sprinted to his front door and flung it open. Alfred, who had been standing with his back to the front door, turned around to face him. “Vinny, I…”

Savino was too impatient to let him get another word out. He tugged on the collar of his emerald green t-shirt and sealed their mouths together. Alfred made a muffled sound of surprise and started kissing him a couple seconds later. He wrapped an arm around his waist, and Savino could feel that he was holding something wrapped in cellophane in his hand. He didn’t give a fuck what it was. He didn’t give a fuck about anything except the fact that Alfred was grinning against his mouth as he reluctantly pulled away for air.

Alfred’s face was flushed, and he had to reach up to fix his glasses. “Wow. This t-shirt never worked before.”

Savino glanced down at the shirt, which read “Kiss Me, I’m Irish!” (of course it did) and snorted. “I didn’t kiss you because of a fucking t-shirt logo. I kissed you because I watched that birthday video you sent me, which was the most adorable goddamn thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“So you liked the song, huh?”

“I loved the song. And I love you too, Fredo.”

He heard sniffling, and it couldn’t have been Alfred, who was beaming at him like every prayer he’d ever uttered had been answered just by Savino saying those words to him. And the sniffling noise was coming from behind him. At least one person had followed Romano to the front door, but Romano had been too focused on America to notice.

Romano tensed up as America laughed and put an arm around his shoulder. “Germany, are you crying, dude?”

“I… I’m verklempt. That was a beautiful moment.” Savino glanced over and saw that Germany wasn’t the only one. Veneziano, Seborga, and Prussia were all standing in the entryway, and they all looked misty-eyed.

Romano groaned and turned to bury his face in America’s ridiculous t-shirt. “Seriously, did you come out here to fucking spy on us?! What the hell is wrong with you?!” America squeezed his arm around him in a silent gesture of support. He could probably tell how embarrassed Romano was.

“Well, you were the one who decided to run out the front door suddenly,” Marcello said teasingly. “You can’t blame us for wanting to see what was going on.”

Veneziano piled on. “It’s nice of you to visit us on our birthday, America. You can come inside if you want, or you can stay out here and kiss Savi some more.”

Romano growled and turned to shoot vicious glares at both of his brothers, but America didn’t seem bothered at all. “As tempting as it sounds to stand here and kiss Vinny all day, I think I’ll come inside.” He dropped his arm from around Savino’s shoulders and presented him with the floral bouquet he somehow hadn’t noticed earlier in his mad dash to the door. “These are for you.”

“Grazie.” Savino smiled as he bent his head to sniff the bouquet of red roses mixed with white lilies. The symbolism wasn’t lost on him.

“Anything for you,” America whispered, too quietly for the others to hear. He pressed a kiss to Savino’s cheek, grabbed his wheeled suitcase, and dangled out his free hand as they headed into the house behind the others.

Romano grabbed America’s hand and laced their fingers together. This was the best birthday he’d ever had, and it was due in no small part to the fact America was holding his hand right now and smiling like he was the one who had received everything he ever wanted.

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mourntheantagonist · 4 years ago

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Billy Hargrove’s Exploration of Beauty

Part 5: (I’m Not) A Real Man

also on ao3

***

He doesn’t know why he says it. It wasn’t prompted in the slightest. But the thought had been rattling inside in his head for weeks and it just slipped out.

“It’s a good thing you like both, I guess.”

It’s been on his mind ever since the panties. Ever since the three pairs turned into ten. Ever since his once bare and unmanicured fingernails were gently held in Steve’s hands and coated in a clear polish. Ever since he upgraded from clear to nude, and from nude to a deep blue.

“It matches your eyes.” He’d said. Quietly under his breath with a smile pulling at the sides of his mouth. Both boy’s cheeks twinning with the same red tint. Sure he removed it before he left the safety of Steve’s house, but it was nice while it lasted.

Ever since Steve had made it a point to call Billy beautiful at least once a day. Peppered in with every greeting and every goodbye. “Hey, beautiful,” and “see you tomorrow, beautiful.” Occasionally interchanged with “gorgeous” and the rare and teasing “pretty boy.”

He could not wrap his head around it. How Steve was just okay with it. Understanding. Supportive, even. He figured it must have something to do with him liking women, too. He was attracted to femininity, so it must make it okay. Steve was getting the best of both worlds, right?

So he said it. The two of them sitting on his couch watching Saturday Night Live, slowly working their way through a large pepperoni pizza. Sitting at opposite ends of the couch with their feet propped up and their legs intertwining. As much as he loves to be all wrapped up in Steve, he loved that position. Getting the best seat in the house to watch as Steve’s nose scrunches and his eyes crinkle when he laughs.

Steve wasn’t laughing now.

“What are you talking about?” He’s understandably confused.

Billy shifts. Brushes his foot up against the hair of Steve’s calf. Picking at the purple nail polish on his fingers as he tries to come up with a way to phrase what he wants to say. He’d been getting better at talking about it, at least a little bit. Opening up to Steve how he sometimes feels trapped in his clothes. How he wishes he could do more. How he wishes the nail polish could stay on. But it got more difficult when he stopped talking about the physical. The clothing and the polish he can talk about, but getting specific about how it makes him feel inside? What it all means for him? He hardly even knows the answer himself.

“Just with you know, all the girly shit. It’s good you, y’know, like girls too.”

Steve is just staring at him. Eyebrows furrowed. He shakes his head.

“You’ve lost me.”

Billy’s biting the inside of his cheek, trying to come up with a better way to word it. A way Steve will understand.

“The nail polish, and the uh, the other stuff,” he waves his hand in the air, the word ‘panties’ always feeling like a slur on his tongue, “I wouldn’t exactly call that manly.”

Steve’s eyes narrow, squinting. Like he’s unsure of what he’s looking at.

“Are you saying you don’t feel like a man?” Steve is straight-faced. He’s asked one question, but suddenly Billy feels like he’s being interrogated. And he’s getting defensive. Even if he’s not being attacked. Even if he’s unsure of what he’s guarding.

“Well there’s certainly nothing manly about wearing pink lace panties Steve.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

And Billy is silent. They’re both silent. And it’s deafening. The words out of Steve’s mouth just hang there in the air, suspended and never to be caught.

“Forget the fucking macho masculine bullshit. Do you, Billy Hargrove, feel like a man?”

“Well I’m definitely not a woman, Steve.”

“Answer the question.”

He can’t answer. Stunned by Steve’s sudden change of tone. He sounds angry. Not angry at Billy, but angry about something else.

“Answer the question, Billy.” He’s determined.

“No! not a real one.”

And now it’s out there. It’s out there and he can see the cogs turning in Steve’s brain as he tries to decipher the meaning behind Billy’s words. His mood however, doesn’t change.

Steve is thinking. Thinking about all the things that had been ruled by society and surely had been ingrained into Billy. Real men don’t cry. Real men don’t back down from a fight. Real men don’t wear pink. Real men don’t sleep with other men. Steve is guilty of having fallen into this mindset before. But it’s plain as day that it’s all wrong. It’s all just a bunch of bullshit.

“Does using the Farrah Fawcett Hairspray make me less of a man?”

“No, but the fumes are definitely doing something.”

“Shut up, it’s quality shit Mr. Aqua Net.” Steve takes in a deep breath. “Does me liking men make me less of a man?”

Billy’s eyes quickly shoot down to his lap. Staring at his hands as he chips away at the last remaining marks of polish on his nails. Treating it like an hourglass. Treating it like his armor. Times up. It’s all gone. You’re exposed. It’s time to face the music.

“No.” It’s soft. He says it like a confession. A confession to himself. Like he’s not saying it to Steve, but fighting against the voice in his head that says the opposite.

But it’s Steve, so it doesn’t apply here. Just to himself.

“Then why is it different for you? Why should my bisexuality have anything to do with it?”

“You don’t understand, Steve. It’s different for me!”

Steve just shakes his head and laughs. Not a laugh of humor. He looks mad. Bewildered.

“I understand perfectly fine Billy! It’s you who’s not fucking getting it!” He stands up from where he was seated. Now pacing across the room, shutting off the television in the process so he has Billy’s undivided attention.

Steve’s head looks like it’s about to explode and it’s freaking Billy out.

“Nobody else gets to decide who you are Billy! You are whoever you say you are! There’s no such thing as a fake man. The things you like don’t change that. I need you to believe that Billy!” He’s almost screaming. His voice echoes through the empty halls of his house. Billy just lies there speechless.

Steve walks closer to Billy after letting out a heavy breath. A desperate release of anger because he doesn’t like yelling at Billy. He kneels in front of him on the couch. Taking a hand in his and looks Billy straight in the eyes. Deep into his soul.

“I understand needing to take things slow. That’s okay. But if you’re holding back because you think I won’t still see you as a man, then I’m sorry, I won’t be patient with you about that. I won’t tolerate that. Because it’s not fucking true.” It’s still aggressive, but his voice is more hushed and less biting.

Billy’s eyes stay focused on their clasped hands. Holding onto that feeling. The feeling as Steve’s words travel through his brain and connect. The feeling of validation as Steve continues to hold on. Refusing to let go. His warmth radiating off of him and into Billy as the force to make his words stick. To make them stay.

“Okay.”

It’s all he can think to say. But it’s not enough for Steve.

“I need to hear you say it Billy. I need to know that you believe it.” Steve pulls Billy into a hug, gently combing his fingers through the hair on the back of his head. “Tell me you’re still a man.” It’s just a whisper in his ear.

“I’m still a man.” It’s voiceless. Coming out with just his exhale. But it’s all that was needed.

“You’re still a man.” Steve copies. “And you’re fucking beautiful. And those things don’t contradict each other.”

Billy just squeezes him tighter. Clinging to the feeling that the word brings him. Clinging to Steve. Clinging to the feeling that Steve’s love gives him. Melting into him. Breathing him in like he’s the last remaining oxygen left on earth.

“I know it’s hard, baby. But you have got to start loving yourself. It hurts me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just let me in, okay. I’m here to stay.”

I’m here to stay.

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

I promise.

“No more holding back around me, okay?”

Steve’s pressing kisses to the space behind his ear with every sentence and Billy just sits there with eyes shut and his heart pounding out of his chest.

“No more holding back.”

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #fanfic #mandi writes tresh

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jay-and-dean · 5 years ago

Text

Not in love

(Dean x Reader)

This is a request from @acklesterritory :

Hey Jay. I think you know me by now. You got me hooked on your last series fic and you know it. I just wish for a Dean x Reader fic where the reader is just like 8 or 9 younger than Dean and love him to the moon and back, can take bullets for him but still don't want to admit it even to herself bc she thinks 1. He deserves better 2.She's not good for him 3. She got honor & hates to beg for love.

Warnings : Angst, Swearing, Smut.

Words : 7.3k (I know...)

Note : I took the liberty to insist on the “she doesn’t want to admit it, even to herself” because I thought it was very interesting. I really hope you like it, and @acklesterritory, I’m sorry it took so long <3

Want to read more => ***MASTERLIST***

___________________

You look across the room searching for familiar faces. Hiding behind your glass of this cheap whiskey they gave you, your back on the wall, you sigh.

Flannel everywhere. A room full of hunters, that’s rare and, well, loud. You love hunting, it is your life and unlike most people, you regret nothing about it, yes it can be gloomy and dirty, but it's a life of adventures, where almost everything is possible.

But hunters…

That’s different. Most of them are machos, rude, lout. They only talk about guns and you don’t really like guns, they are necessary but you would never act like them : like a stupid kid collecting toys. They keep saying they are humble people, bragging about how simply they live only this glass and their gun, owning nothing else... but the truth is they are conceited bastards ; narrating their feats on a loop. They live in violence and it rubs off on them, nothing stays pure about them, and alcohol makes them smelly and moronic... The one you met before at least.

No, you never liked hunters. And they never really liked you.

You don’t talk to them if you don’t have to. You really don’t need sexist comments, or behaviors close to harassment, like you suffered a few times, so you just act like they were all the same. Bang the hunter chick… A fantasy for most of them. But yet, you tried two or three of them along the years, and no thank you. Sweat smelling selfish boors.

When they don’t try to convince you to suck their dirty cocks, they make fun of you for hunting, just because you don't look like the typical monster killer. In the best case, they ignore you.

Of course, there are some exceptions, and you started to meet the good ones. Like Jody. Maybe it is because she’s a woman, maybe it is because she isn’t a hunter for long but you really love that woman. And the hunters she introduced you to were always the kindest and smartest.

Your eyes find Sam. Sam Winchester himself. He’s the biggest exception ; how can a man so good be a hunter ? His soft face remembering you of the good times you had together, his friendship enlightening your days with trust and joy.

He looks at you and winks, you wink back of course. It’s his way to tell you he is with you -he knows you don't like this kind of event- and your way to tell him you’re good.

But, to be honest, the only man you really want to talk to is always the same : Big brave impressive Dean Winchester. The other exception.

When you first met him, you really thought he was just like all of them. The first thing that made you change your mind was his smell : Dean doesn’t smell like old sweat and rancor, but like some delicious manly sweet boy. His face of course too : the man is so handsome you’re still not sure how he is even human and there is no ounce of stupidity on his features…

But the childish laughs and the touching fear of not being enough to be loved, the bravery of his soul and the nobility of his heart are what made you change your mind for good. He let you into his life, into his house and heart like he does so generously, that’s when you decided you needed him in your own life and became a devoted friend.

You lost him when you arrived the hunter funeral of some douche -at least you decided he must have been a douche- you never knew, and your eyes never found him again after that. You hate that. It’s really weird that need of knowing where Dean is all the time.

At least here you’re pretty sure he’s not hitting on some girl… Almost sure. What if he was ? Your heart races and your stomach make knots.

Oh shut up Y/n… He’s an adult, he does what pleases him.

You sigh and hesitate to go looking for him. You’ve been avoiding everyone for an hour, you're bored, and now, you miss your best friend anyway.

Your best friend. Not only your best friend, but the best friend. A friend that makes you breakfast because he knows your laziness can make you skip it when it’s too early, that holds your hand during horror movies, a friend that lets you take selfies with him, even if that makes him grumpy, and on most of your photos, you’re annoying a frowning Dean.

In a deep inhale, you decide to throw yourself in the crowd, holding your head high, and wearing that cold look of yours, the one you wear when you really don't want people to feel like they can approach you.

You find a bottle and pour some whiskey in your almost empty glass, that's when you hear it : Dean's captivating laugh. Turning around, you catch sight of the man you were looking for.

He's standing in the kitchen doorframe with a beer in his hand. Form this angle, you can see his slightly pointy ears and smile without pointing your finger on what makes you beam each time you see his face.

You hesitate for a second, you want to join him but he's talking to two of the type of men that you usually avoid. When you decide to leave him and maybe go back to your calm place next to the stairs, he turns his head to look at you, like one of the men had told him you were staring, and he smiles quietly.

"Y/n !" he calls you from across the room, making your heart beat a little faster.

He raises an arm and invites you to join them with his hand. After a short hesitation, you walk toward him. And as he always does, he welcomes you by wrapping his arm around your shoulders protectively.

"This is Y/n, she's the one who killed the freaking Kraken" he introduces you with a large grin, and for a second, you're mesmerized by the strength emanating from him. "Y/n, this is Leroy, and Mike."

The two men greet you and Mike eyes you from head to toe.

"I didn't know the famous Dean Winchester had a girlfriend" he says, and you know exactly what he's doing. This is not an innocent question, it's a territory question, but you’re not a property.

"Huh ? No she's not my girlfriend..." Dean starts and you roll your eyes.

Mikes downright laughs and you feel a needle going through your heart. What is so funny ? Thinking that a man like Dean could like you ? That a man like him would settle down ? Does he laugh because he thinks you're available ?...

"What's so funny, Mike ?" you snap sternly, making him stop right away.

Dean turns his gaze on you with that look again. A look you've seen a few times lately, but you can't read at all, like he needed to understand you, his deep green eyes searching your face. Something unreadable between confused and sure, between tender and angry... Puzzling.

You push Dean's arm and sigh, why is he acting like this anyway ? You take a sip of your drink and glimpse another unreadable look between the three men. Jeez you hate this kind of moments... Before Dean can say anything, Jody calls you and you take a deep relieved breath.

"Excuse me Deanie... Dean" you correct yourself. The last things you want is to give them anything else to talk about or to embarrass your friend.

"Tell me when you want me to drive you home" he says in a kind smile.

"Just... enjoy the... funeral" you say realizing how weird it sounds, but you know Dean doesn't have much occasions to meet other hunters.

After a smile, and a friendly touch of his arm, you leave, a little sad that you have to share him all the time, missing the days you had just the two of you last month, when Sam went on a "hunt" alone with Eileen.

The best days of your entire life... The first two days, you drank and played all the games Dean knows : pool, poker, some gambling in shady clubs, drinking games with the money you made... It was the first time you actually were drunk for 48 hours straight. The days after, you both just stayed at home, cooking for each other, watching lame movies in the Fortress of Deanitude, falling asleep close to each other like puppies... But after that, the weird look on his face appeared.

"Y/n" Jody puts a hand on your shoulder. "I was wondering where you were, I know you don't really like those kind of... event" she says kindly, filling up your glass. "But, hey... I should have known, of course you were with Dean" you really don't like the smile that appeared on her face.

"What does that mean ?" you frown.

"I mean... Dean and you" her smile won't fade despite the stern look on your face. "Come on !" she says a little annoyed now.

"Dean and I are friends" you state, your voice a little lower than usual.

"Yeah but..." she looks confused now. "Y/n... You like Dean, everyone in this room can see it, I mean it's written all over your face whenever he's in the room, and it’s… It’s cute, don’t…"

Your throat becomes tighter, and you can feel your palms sweat so you cut her.

"I don't" you turn to look at him and catch him looking back. "You're mistaking Jody. Dean is my best friend. He's not into relationships, and I'm not either."

"Yeah..." she nods. "Okay, I'm sorry Y/n. Just... Sam thought..."

"Sam !" you cut her. "You talked about this with Sammy ? Am I the only one not aware that I like Dean now ?"

"Y/n..." Jody tries when you rub your face with both hands.

But you leave. In an attempt to hide the anger raging inside of you, you mutter something about going to the bathroom before walking to the stairs.

***

Loving Dean... No she said liking Dean but whatever, that's stupid. Dean is... It would be like loving the Sun, it just doesn’t make sense. And you're not a desperate teenager, good thing you don't love, no like, Dean, because you wouldn't even tell him anyway.

You find the bathroom and sit on the edge of the bathtub. What did Sam say to Jody ? What did he say to Dean ? At this thought your breath shakes.

"Y/n ?" Sam's voice calls you through the door. "Can I come in ?"

"What if I say no ?" you mutter and he enters.

His too tall frame takes all the tiny room all of sudden, and looking at him from so low doesn't help, but he squats to face you.

"Are you okay ?" he asks with too much caution and it makes you roll your eyes.

"Why wouldn't I be ? I just needed space for a second, Sam.”

"From Jody ?"

You sigh, not knowing what to answer to that.

"Yeah I know you...” he continues. “You don't run to hide in bathroom when everything is okay" he searches your face.

"I didn't run" you protest kindly. Seeing he won't stop looking for answers in your eyes, you just shrug. "She said something... It's not her fault."

"Was it about Dean ?"

"Wh-... What do you all have with Dean ?" you protest but your next words get stuck in your throat when the man you're talking about is standing right behind Sam.

"Sam" he says and his brother just gets up, like he had nothing more to say to make him leave the two of you alone.

Sam touches your shoulder like you had been through something lately and walks away. When he's out, Dean closes the door and sits next to you on the bathtub in a little grunt, his thigh against yours.

"I told Sammy to let you alone, but you know him, he never listens to me" he gives you a corner smile. "He thought something was bothering you..."

"Nothing is bothering me" you say.

"That's what I told him, because I know when you need your space, you really want to be alone... But I also know you have something on your mind" his hand finds your leg.

Why does he do that ? Now Jody put those things on your mind, you are aware of every one of his gesture. Does he think you lo-like him too ? Is he trying to seduce you ? To sleep with you maybe... Is it his fault you can't take him off of your mind ? Did he somehow, put ideas in your head too ?

It’s true that lately, he’s been closer to you. He’s attentive and sweet, somehow, he acts like you two shared a bond the others don’t understand ; but do you ? That time you got out of the cinema together, he had this weird pause, was he trying to ask you something ? Dean and you are really good friends, and for a long time, you noticed opening up to him is easier than with other people. And it's both ways. You’re the only one Dean talked about Mary for example, when she came back, when she left them, when she died… Again.

Maybe people are just mistaking a perfectly good friendship with flirting. Why does that makes you that angry ? Maybe because the idea of Dean and you together is just insane : He’s Dean Winchester, if he ever chose to be in a relationship, it will be with someone worth it…

You look at his hand and realize your lips made a thin line. You remember falling asleep next to him to wake up in his arms, you never really thought of that, it was just natural, but do friends do that ? He has to stop making this friendship weird. And that unreadable look…

"What did Jody say, I saw your face change" he gives you his drink, for you to take a sip of it.

You can't tell him.

“Nothing special, she was kind as usual” you just shrug.

“Yeah, she is, that doesn’t prevent her to be clumsy… Was it about your dad ?” he asks.

Your lips forms a corner smile, he’s the first one to not bring up… well… himself.

Dean is the only one you talked about your dad in details. He was a hunter, a weird kind of hunter : he only went after demons, with books and exorcisms, you don’t think he ever touched a gun or knife, with his glasses and skin frame. He looked more like an exorcist from what you recall, and he had a regular job too, at the museum. You never really asked how he acknowledge demons, but you always imagined him finding books and ancient spells all alone at night in the museum library… Like in movies. He was quite a joke among hunters, despite the amount of successful exorcisms he proceeded. He died when you were seven anyway, and your life went down closer to Hell since then. Until you met Dean… and Sam.

“I know you’re uncomfortable around hunters, and that one or two of them made fun of your father…” Dean continues.

“It wasn’t about my dad” you just say, wanting to rest your head on his shoulder like you often do, but not daring this time.

“Okay… Was it about me ?”

You frown : not him !

“Why would that be about you Deanie ?” You put on your mocking smile. “Not everything is about you.”

“You were saying something about me when I came in.”

Your smile dies and you look down. He’s Dean, you never lied to him.

“Jody just said we were always together…”

“And ?” he asks, obviously having no idea how that could bother you.

“Like it was, I don’t know, fishy…” you complete your sentence.

He grins and bumps your leg with his.

“Does she think we’re having sex and stuff ?” he wiggles his eyebrows, which usually makes you laugh but this time his words hurt your guts.

“That’s ridiculous” you sigh.

“Is it ?” Dean just pouts making your blood boil.

“Wh- You’re… Jesus Dean !” You get up to free your thigh from his warmth. “You’re incredible !”

“In the good way ?” he cautiously asks making you groan. “Oh…no, bad way.”

He gets up, trying to take your hand, but you put both of them under your back.

“Why do you act like that ?” he frowns.

“Why do you act like that !”

“What ? I act as usual !” his eyes search yours.

You don’t answer, and look down. What can you tell him ? Do you really want him to back off ? Probably not.

“I’ll take you home” he says.

“No. No, Dean, I’m okay, really, go talk to people, I’ll take another drink and…”

“I don’t like it here either” he cuts you. “I don’t fit here, and people don’t stop asking me about the Demon part of my life, I don’t know how they heard that… Or Hell, Purgatory. I feel like… I don’t know… People admire me for Hell, but I…”

“Yes” you just say, knowing he’s talking about him torturing souls, about the fact that he will never forgive himself for saying yes to Alistair.

“And they think the Demon thing is funny” he chuckles to hide the pain. “The worse is, I know at some point I would have like them, but now, after all that…I don’t know, I just don’t fit in.”

“I’m sorry” you say, finally reaching his hand, you know Dean really don’t like people reminding him about those days. You sigh, the idea of him hurt way more unbearable than the touches you want to avoid. “Two hours drive, we still can watch a movie when we’re home.”

“I’ll take my jacket” he smiles, putting his hand on your back to lead you outside.

He got you just like that. You were determined to stop being so close to him, and just with a heartbreaking word, he got you asking for more…

You go down the stairs just before him, trying to swallow the pain in your throat, what is this freaking pain anyway ? Your best friend is awesome, nothing sucks about it, and people can think what they want.

“My my… Dean Winchester and his “not girlfriend” coming out of the bathroom where they locked themselves together” Mike says and Leroy laughs along with a few other guys.

Before you can think, you take three quick steps toward him and punch him, triggering a chain reaction : He is taken aback but his friends take a threatening step toward you. Dean pushes you back to place himself in front of you. Silence falls, and Sam appears on your side.

“Are you crazy !” Leroy yells, checking his friend’s bleeding lip. “It was just a joke !”

“Maybe she’s just tired of your jokes” Dean states, annoying Mike who’s already furious with pain and humiliation.

“Keep your bitch on a leash, Winchester” he spits but Dean’s fist makes him fall on his butt this time.

“Dean !” you call, afraid he will go to a fight.

“STOP !” Sam shouts. “This is funeral, let’s cool down. We’re leaving… We’re leaving” he repeats with his hands open at shoulder height. “Dean. Now.”

Dean grabs your arm and follows Sam outside, his face his stern and you can’t read how much he’s mad at you. He opens the door to you, and you sit in the backseat with your heart in the back of your throat, it was your turn to be shotgun.

You wipe the few tears that overflow your defenses in your sleeves during the ride, trying not to think too much about how it hurts to know he’s mad at you, trying to keep your thoughts logical, and not indulge in stupid fantasies.

Sam tried to talk about the event but Dean just cut him with a grunt that means shut up, put some music, and focused on the road.

***

By the time Dean’s precious car enters the garage, you’re still not sure what to think, and what to do. You look at him in the rear-view mirror, but there is nothing you can read, his bright eyes are lost in front of him.

When the engine stops, you get out of the car in a sigh, looking at your hurt hand. You know you shouldn’t have reacted like that, but to be honest, you really have no control of your emotions lately.

Dean just walks out of the garage without a word, that’s when you realize he’s not just pissed, but furious. Your stomach contracts in pain and fear. The idea of Dean, your Dean, that man you would die for, being angry at you, thinking bad things about you, it makes you nauseous.

What if you had lost him ? In the bathroom, you were hard on him but he was so sweet, he always is with you… Now you obviously crossed a line, and you don’t even know which one.

You don’t even remember why you were so hard on him… Oh yes, because he’s too friendly, too close.

What kind of reason is it ?

Sam waits for you, forbidding you to finally cry like you desperately need to.

“Y/n…”

“I know, I’m sorry Sam” you sigh, trying to escape a talk you really don’t want to have.

“Just talk to Dean…”

You let out a dark chuckle.

“No, Sam. I’ll just let him alone, he’s obviously mad at me.”

“You know Dean practically as much as I do… You know he’s hurt” Sam says and it’s like a punch in your heart.

Why would he be hurt ? Nothing makes sense. Maybe after he told you how rough the night was for him, he hoped that you would just be here for him, and not make a scene… Dean doesn’t open up often, but when he does, he needs you to be there.

Maybe Sam is right, it’s time to make things about him, and not you. You could die for him, you could go to Hell for him… So you can face his anger.

***

Entering your room, you sigh. Thinking of Jody’s words, you rub your face.

His bathrobe is on your bed from the las time you wore it, just before you left for the funeral. Now you think of it, you always wear it.

One of his t-shirt is there too, and another on the chair, you know there are at least three others on your closet… How did you end up with half Dean’s clothes in your bedroom ? Oh, right, it’s because you’re always in his room, and change here when you decide to stay for the night after the third movie ended and he fell asleep during it.

You look around. When you hanged this photo of him on your wall, you managed to convince yourself that it was to annoy him, because he doesn’t like it : he was sleepy and makes a weird face on it. But he got used to it, and you never removed it from your wall. That seems weird now.

And this little bowl on your desk… Looking at it, you realize it is filled with only Dean : Theater tickets from when he invited you to watch Star Wars, the button that got ripped from his flannel and that you never fixed, an identity picture you stole from the last fake idea he made…

You have an old tape player here, you bought it when he made you one, with songs he thought you would like, and your Ipod is abandoned on the side of it since then…

Everything you have here is linked to Dean. Maybe you have to admit he’s way more important than you think, maybe you missed something.

You sigh again, he deserves better. You owe him an explanation, and if he’s angry, you’ll listen to him anyway. He’s Dean, and he’s everything to you. It’s impossible to explain, but you can’t let him be hurt if he is.

***

You knock, waiting with apprehension. Thinking maybe he will grunt, yell, ignore you. But he just opens the door with a stern face, staying in the door frame. You’re not welcome, and that alone hurts.

“What do you want Y/n ?” he asks harshly.

Your blood run colds, you search his beautiful green eyes, but he closed the gate to his soul.

“I’m sorry for… you know making a scene.”

“It’s okay” he states, starting to close the door.

“Dean, wait…” you half panic, but when he turns toward you again, you have no idea what to say. “Dean…”

“I know my name” he says.

And his ice-cold words make you mute. You look down.

“Sorry” you mutter.

“The last t-shirt you took is one I like, please bring my robe when you give it back” he adds, closing the door.

***

Your tears fall on the t-shirt in your hands, you did lose him for good. But why ? How did you manage to screw the only thing that matters ?

Dean is not unfair, so there is a reason he’s furious. But in the din of your heart breaking, you can’t think clearly. Maybe he realized your friendship wasn’t healthy, but why did he agreed to watch movies back in the bathroom ? Maybe he guessed you love, no, like him…

You sniff in the t-shirt, his smell somehow calming you. You already miss him so bad it hurts, living without this friendship will be close to Hell…

But you deserve what’s happening, or –better- you never deserved him. It’s Dean freaking Winchester, this man is a diamond soul wrapped in a masterpiece body, more precious than the stars… And he gave you his friendship. What did you do to thank him ? Reject his touch, embarrass him, and involve him to a fight for nothing.

***

You put the neatly folded t-shirts and bathrobe next to him on the kitchen table, trying to avoid looking at him so he doesn’t notice your eyes are red from crying all night.

“Hi, thank you” he says, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Sorry for keeping them” you mutter, still hoping a little that he will add something, maybe even something nice, but his mouth stays shut.

His mouth stays shut all day.

Walking in the too big bunker, you try not to cry again. It’s silent, you don’t dare playing music like you sometimes do, or going to the Dean-cave to watch a movie ; what movie anyway ? The only ones you said you would watch, you want to do with Dean. You can’t focus on reading and you already checked social media twice, not interesting, he is not on it…

You miss him. You miss him like crazy, and your heart weights two hundred pounds. You will be erased easily, Dean lost people so dear to him, get rid of a bad friend shouldn’t be a problem. That’s at least some consolation : you hurt him but it won’t last. For you in the other hand… It’s like there has been no sunrise today, like night never stopped. You saw the daylight outside, but it didn’t reach you at all.

And when night falls for real, sadness invites a friend of his : fear wraps its ice hands around your neck, whispering in your ear : What if he went out ?

Dean going out was never an idea you liked, because you’re possessive maybe, and like to have him spending evenings with you. You fought that idea with all your strength because it was just a childish whim, but it never faded. So you always made sure he had something funnier to do at home, and it worked almost each time.

But now he’s mad, you suddenly feel the anxiety sharpen its blade. And a new thought hatches in your head…

The idea of him making love to someone terrifies you.

Why ?

… Because you are in love with him.

I love him so much…

Your head falls loudly on the kitchen table and you whine at the screams of your heart. It hurts, it hurts more than a demon punch, more than a monster breaking your bones, more than losing your family… more than anything.

Loving Dean… You don’t even deserve to feel this way about him. You will never be anything close to good enough for him.

Stupid.

A noise makes you lift your eyes shyly off the table and the fear and the sadness tighten their grip on your throat.

Dean is here.

He finally got out of his bedroom to eat something, opening the fridge, he doesn’t look at you.

“Did you eat something today Y/n ?” he asks, his body mostly hidden by the big door.

“Y-yes” you try to lie, but your voice breaks and he closes the door to finally look at you.

He searches your face, but when you feel tears threatening to soak your cheeks, you look down and put your hand on your forehead to hide, pretending you’re just resting your head on your fingers.

“I’m sorry” he states in a sigh, like he knew for sure he was the one making you cry… Like he did it on purpose.

“You did nothing wrong” you whisper, knowing your voice will betray you again.

He sighs deeply, staying there, in the middle of the kitchen, and you pray he will just leave soon to his room, because holding back the tears is becoming impossible. But he stays here, you can feel his presence even if you don’t see him, and hear his breathing in the deadly silence.

After a very long minute, you clear your voice a little and lift your head, unable to hide the pained frown on your face.

“It’s okay, Dean, you don’t have to stay here, I just… I just have a headache” you lie.

Usually, you would talk to him, he has always been your best friend, but right now what can you say ?

I love you…

That’s insane.

“Listen…” he starts low, rubbing his face. “We can’t… We can’t go on like this.” His words are like broken glass in your ears, you don’t even know what he is talking about. “I will… I will leave for a few days, weeks… I…”

“What !” You can’t hide the panic, anger slowly replacing sadness in your chest.

“It will be better for the two of us” he states, hurt all over his perfect face.

But nothing can be better without him, you already didn’t bear him being away when you didn’t acknowledge your love for him…

“Better ?” you almost snarl. “What is this even about Dean ?” You get up, feeling your blood boil as you lean on the table with both hands. “I’m sorry I made a scene but… What the… Why the hell are you so mad at me !”

“I’m mad because you find it so repulsive to be with me, that you punch people who insinuates it !” he raises his voice now, his right hand open toward you, the gesture he has when he’s about to consume with anger.

Your eyes widen.

“What ?”

“You know what I’m talking about Y/n ! You…” he looks at the ceiling biting his lower lip, like he was weighting his words. “What is the problem with Jody saying we are always together ? Huh ? WE ARE !”

When he finally yells, you close your eyes hard, like when someone hits you, and the tears you’ve been so cautiously holding back fall heavily on your cheeks. But he doesn’t stop, pointing his finger at you.

“What is the problem with people thinking we are together Y/n ! We… We fucking act like we were for months ! Now you know how terrified I am by what we have, you know me ! You know everything Y/n ! I told you fucking everything ! GAVE you everything !”

Tears appear in his eyes and he takes a deep breath, wiping his cheeks with one hand.

“Just… Make up your mind” he says low, anger suddenly vanished from his voice to leave there just sadness. “I-if you’re so repulsed by the idea of being… I… You can’t look at me like I was your future, then lock yourself in a bathroom because people noticed.”

“Dean…” you have no other words.

“Sammy keeps joking about me being so slow to make a move…” he lets out a dark chuckle then shakes his head. “I have no idea what you want from me… I have nothing left to give you. I… I try to read you, but…” a big unique tear falls from his eyes again.

“I think I love you” you bite your lip at what just escaped it.

“Well until you know…” he whispers like that wasn’t a scoop, making you gasp. “I can’t go on like this.”

He turns to leave but you run after him, unable to let him leave you like that, still stunned by his words.

“Dean ! I do… I do” you sob. “I’m sure !”

You grab his shoulders and stand before him, searching his face for a moment before letting your head fall on his chest to sob, like you’ve been dreaming of all day.

“I’m sorry… I do… I love you like crazy…”

He puts a hand on your neck and you feel his chest shake a little, like he was holding back a sob or a scream. He smells so good…

And you both stay here for a moment, you’re unable to look up, terrified by what you could see in his eyes, trying to proceed what he just said, what it means… You’re playing memories in your head, and it’s like you saw them with light for the first time… Dean wanted to kiss you this night after the movie, when he took your hand in his on your way to the car… He wanted to kiss you.

You take a deep breath and look up, immediately finding his piercing green eyes staring back at you. And, gathering your courage, you lift your body on your tip toes, shyly putting your lips on his.

You didn’t know you were craving for it so much.

When he bends his head slightly to crush his plumb lips on yours, you heart skips a beat, and a new fire burst inside you. He cups your face, nibbling at your lower lip with his tongue joining his teeth. You take a shaky breath, your lips parting slowly.

You can feel anger still irradiating of him, his hands roughly grabbing the side of your face to deepen the kiss. His tongue is conquering, his fingers could bruise you.

“I know you’re a proud woman, and… I really like this about you” he almost groans between burning kisses. “But this was…”

He doesn’t finish, lifting your thighs strongly to wrap them around his waist. Your fingers are in his hair and you let his smell invade your every thoughts.

Will you really make love to your best friend ? Will you really welcome him between your legs ? Let him sink inside you… Your stomach shake, and you a burning feeling strikes your core powerfully, your inner walls clench.

“Dean… I want you” you let out in a moan, the only feeling of his body keeping your legs open making you see stars.

He starts walking, somehow managing to hold you and kiss you, his hands digging in your ass cheeks, and the delicious steady dance of his footsteps making your crotch brush his lower stomach.

When he enters his bedroom, closing it with his foot behind him, you put your forehead on his, pushing it back slightly to make him look up and reach his lips. His unbelievably soft lips.

He throws you on his bed, managing to place you in the middle of it, before he crawls on top of you.

Dean, your Dean… crawling up between your legs, his lips swollen by your kisses, and his eyes devouring you. You never felt anything more intense. Tears fill your eyes : Sex, you know, but love ? You weren’t even that nervous on your first time.

His lips reach your neck, he kisses, licks, nibbles at your collarbone and jaw. He’s feasting. And you want to explore this body you love so much, but your hands are glued to his head for now, unable to really realize that this man laying between your legs is actually Dean.

“Those evenings with you…” he full on groans now. “Those nights having you close, smelling you…” he’s opening his belt, his delicious mouth still on your shivering skin.

“I…” you know you have to say something, but everything that comes to your mind seems dumb. “I wanted you to touch me… But you…”

He sits on his ankles to take off his flannel and shirt, and your words are lost.

Throwing it across the room, he let his body fall on yours again, only keeping his weight from crushing you with a hand next to your face.

“But I ?” he asks when your shy palms finally dare to explore his chest.

“But you…” it’s your turn to kiss his neck now, stealing a moan from him. At this sound you feel another earthquake down your core. “You’re Dean…” you pant. “You’re Dean freaking Winchester.”

“What does that even mean” he groans low.

But he lifts your shirt, and you feel like a virgin, your shaking hands helping him to get you out of your close. You lose your voice, unable to tell him what it means exactly, to tell him how impressive he is, how brave, how heroic, how beautiful… To tell him how ridiculous the idea of him wanting you seemed, how he deserves the world, how scared you were to love him…

It’s not your body that makes you shy : he knows it already. Those scars, he saw them when they were still held by stiches, the little fat around your belly, he held it so often in his hands, during fight, while patching you up, during your nights in his arms… What makes you shy is that need, that hunger irradiating of him, your craving for that intimacy with the man you love.

You close your eyes a second, just to bath your senses in his touches, in his smell ; and when you open it again, he’s tugging at your pants.

You gasp when your panties roll down with it.

You gasp when his teeth nibble at your inner thighs.

You gasp again when he kisses your folds.

“Dean !” you cry out.

He hums, his tongue tasting you softly and your eyes roll inside your skull.

“Finally” he mutters before another lick, surer, more firm. “Finally.”

You once read that sexual pleasure was strongly increased when love was involved, it left you wondering, you never knew love after all…

Now you’re already shaking, trying to hold back the jerks of your hips, while Dean is soaking his mouth and chin on you, his tongue and lips sharing your clit.

“Dean !” you grab the sheets, looking down at him.

But before you can fall of the edge, he crawls up your body again, kissing you fiercely, making you taste yourself on his lips. You never tasted yourself… And you blush at how much you like it.

One of his hand grabs your thigh strongly to keep it up on his hip, and the other finds your hand.

Staring deep in your eyes, he intertwines his fingers with yours, an expression of awe on his features. You can’t stop staring at him, at how that fearless warrior is now gentle. Dean needs love, he needs touches and he craves for that tenderness he barely received in his oh so dark life.

“I love you” you whisper.

“I love you” he answers with his lips grazing yours, and your heart grows the size of the galaxy.

The hand holding your thigh let go for a moment to slip between you, and the motion itself rekindles that coil in your belly.

“Shit…” he groans, letting his head fall on your shoulder.

“Dean ?”

“I don’t have a condom…”

“Shit !” your voice echoes him. “I… I’m on birth control and I’m very clean… You ?”

“I am too but if you don’t want to…”

“I want !” you answer a little too quick. “I… I really need you.”

He lifts your head, a tender smile on his face.

“Oh now you need me ?”

Before you can say anything, the tip of his cock teases your entrance and you gasp, clinging to his back, your finger enjoying the firm moves of his muscles. He pushes in slowly, shallowly thrusting, letting your body time to adjust him inch by inch… It’s already so much, and your head digs in the pillow in shaky moans.

“Fuck…” he whines.

After another minute of grinding softly, of kisses on your open mouth, of whispered curses, he bottoms out.

In a loud moan, your hands grab his ass but meet his jeans, still up on half of it, so they roam the curve of his lower back, and the sensual dance of it. He’s there, on you, in you, and you can feel everything. His chest becomes sticky from sweat, and drag your hard nipples in the slightly up and down movements of it.

He’s making love to you. Dean. Your Dean. His moans in your ear, his fingers squeezing yours, his cock twitching inside of you…

You let your knees fall apart from each other, enjoying the weight of the man you love caging you with his huge body. And you lose control…

You cry out and he groans in return, starting to thrust stronger, faster. Your walls are fluttering hard, your whole body burns… And you come in a strangled gasp, both losing track of the world completely, and perfectly aware of his gasps, and the ropes of cum coating the deepest parts of you.

“Y/n !” he groans in your neck, his hips still grinding on yours.

It is true : Sex is really different when love is involved.

He stays here for a minute, his body slowly stilling, panting hidden in your neck, your loving hands in his sweaty hair, softening inside you like he didn’t want to leave, ever, and almost crushing you…

After a while, he finally move, probably earing your breathing whistle a little, and lays on his side, facing you, an arm still wrapped around you.

“People will talk about us” he says low.

“I don’t care…” you smile, your guilt probably visible on it.

“Now you don’t care that people know ?” he chuckles softly, pushing a strand of your hair out of your face.

“I was the one that wasn’t ready to know… I am now. I am in love with you.”

He pecks your lips.

“And I am with you, now, please… will you stay tonight ?”

“Yes.”

“Forever ?”

“Sure.”

_____________________________

***FEEDBACK IS GOLD***

Forever Tags : @parinarain @animegirlgeeky @mogaruke @masterof-agony @rainflowermoon @tftumblin @deans-baby-momma @roonyxx @thefaithfulwriter @vicariouslythruspn @emeow1496 @daryldixonandfrogs @holylulusworld @cocklesbelli @sandlee44 @mogaruke @screenchingartisancashbailiff @donnaintx @hawaiianohana31 @akshi8278 @magssteenkamp @sister-winchesters99 @neii3n @alanegaming @im-a-shrub @sadwaywardkid @hopelesslydevotedtoyou1912 @slyqueenj @i-love-superhero @waywardsisterandpie @sunsetsandbooks @fangirlxwritesx67 @mrspeacem1nusone @stylesismyhubs

#SPN #spn fic #spn fanfic #SPNFamily #dean winchester #Supernatural Dean Winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x y/n #dean x reader #Smut #dean winchester smut #fluff #angst #jay-and-dean

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daisy-loves-sh · 5 years ago

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Gay subtext in Lady Blue

Starsky & Hutch: Lady Blue

Season 1, Ep 10

Okay, can we talk about the fact that Hutch appears to be romancing Starsky in this ep where Starsky is mourning his dead ex-girlfriend?

I swear I’m not making this up.

As evidence, I present these two scenes:

1) The guys are in the morgue hallway and Starsky is feeling down. Hutch offers him coffee but Starsky waves it away. Then Hutch puts his hand over Starsky’s hand and says “Oh, Starsk” in THAT way. Starsky replies, “It’s alright” and puts his hand over Hutch’s. And then it looks like PMG starts to laugh just before the scene cuts, but I digress.

2) The tag. You know, the one where Hutch lights candles and cooks Starsky’s favorite meal that he got from his mother-in-law Starsky’s mom. CANDLES!

Now, an episode in which Starsky is mourning his dead ex-girlfriend doesn’t exactly seem like the best time for Hutch to try to seduce him, but that seems to be exactly what Hutch is doing. And it IS a good way to hide the gay subtext, because who would suspect it in this ep?

Now, you could argue that the hand-holding and “Oh, Starsk” is just Hutch being really supportive and that he has no romantic feelings whatsoever. Sure, that could be. The scene is totally gay, though, if I can be honest.

But if we put the lovey-dovey morgue scene together with the tag (or even just the tag by itself), you can most definitely see that Hutch is trying to romance his partner.

Let’s dissect the lovely tag, shall we?

Hutch has called Starsky’s mom to get his favorite recipe, cooks it and invites Starsky over for dinner, tries to get Starsky to look at the sunset (for which Starsky has zero interest), and sets a romantic candlelit table. Totally not gay, right? (I’m being sarcastic, btw, it’s totally gay). And he doesn’t just light some candles that are already on the table. He brings them over from near the window where he’s watching the sunset and then lights them.

But when Starsky inquires about the candles by asking “Who are the candles for? Expecting someone?,” Hutch answers “Yeah, that’s why we’re eating early,” while totally avoiding looking at his partner and trying to act nonchalant.

Starsky, for his part, seems disappointed by this (but in a non-romantic way, I think) and asks “What time am I leaving?” to which Hutch deflects by lifting the cover on the Paul Muni special. So he never answers the question. Because Starsky isn’t going to be leaving early.

Also, this is going slightly off-topic, but I have the same exact speckled-black roasting pan as Hutch. I find this very exciting because I have been a Hutch girl since I was a kid, and I’m not the one who bought the roasting pan, my hubby did.

Now, you might be thinking, what’s gay about Hutch having a girl over later and serving an early dinner to Starsky? And apparently he really WAS serving it early or Starsky would have pointed out that it wasn’t early. And the sun is just setting, although we don’t know what time of year it’s supposed to be. But the ep aired in mid-November and sunset in Los Angeles Bay City would have been around 4:45pm, so that IS pretty early to eat dinner.

So does that mean there really was a girl coming over later for a booty call with Hutch? NO! IT DOES NOT MEAN THAT! It means that Hutch was embarrassed that Starsky didn’t pick up on his cues and so he made up the story about the girl. Because why the F would Hutch be lighting candles during his dinner with Starsky if he was planning on having a romantic time with a girl LATER THAT EVENING? The candles would be burned out by then and I doubt he was planning on having a second dinner with this fictional girlfriend or that he and the girl would be anywhere near the kitchen table. The candles are totally for Starsky.

Confused? Still wondering why Hutch serves dinner early, if there is no girl coming over later?

Did you figure it out yet? No? Then scroll down for the answer…….

…...

……

It’s because Hutch wanted Starsky to come over early so they could watch the sunset together.

Think about it. It’s the first thing Hutch mentions at the beginning of the tag. Why would a grown man want another grown man to look at a sunset with him? Do platonic heterosexual men-friends normally do that sort of thing?

No, I’m pretty sure they do not.

And also, Hutch doesn’t just casually mention the sunset in an offhand way. He talks about it for a while, and even mentions how it has the colors of the rainbow: “Blue, gold, red, purple.” As in, the gay rainbow. Now, I know that the rainbow wasn’t used as a symbol of gay pride until 1978, and this ep is from 1975, but still, rainbows were used by marginalized groups in the 70s, including in California, including by the gay community. And there’s the whole Judy Garland “Somewhere over the rainbow” queer icon thing. We had a discussion about this on FB a few months ago.

Regardless, even if the rainbow wasn’t intended as a gay reference, you still have a scene with a man talking about rainbows and sunsets with another man while serving him a romantic candlelit dinner.

So yeah, Hutch totally tries to seduce Starsky but Starsky is clueless. That doesn’t mean that Starsky doesn’t also pine for Hutch in his own way. Maybe he does and maybe he doesn’t. But he’s not in the right mindset in this episode because Did I mention that he’s still mourning the brutal murder of his ex-girlfriend? And yes, it’s totally weird and uncomfortable when Hutch mentions Helen in the tag.

But they had to have two levels of what’s going on in this scene so the gay stuff wouldn’t be too obvious.

So we have the surface text (two straight guys who like women having dinner together) and then we have the subtext (all the gay romantic stuff plus the bonus “Starsky is Jewish” Paul Muni reference).

And men who like women can’t possibly be gay or bi, can they?

So the subtext is a man trying to romantically woo his best friend by talking about sunsets and rainbows, cooking him his favorite meal which he got from his friend’s mom, and setting a romantic candlelit table. And making up a story about a girl coming over in order to save face.

So the fans who were not inclined to see the characters in a romantic way would just watch the scene and think it was sweet and shippy, because the guys are such good platonic friends, and not really spend any time thinking about how platonic heterosexual men-friends don’t really do stuff like that.

But the fans who wanted to see the romance between the guys would see it.

And both types of fans would be happy and would argue with each other for the next 45 years about whether S&H were gay or just really really really good friends.

Except maybe for straight males who were just there for the car chases and shootouts and macho stuff. I really have no idea how those fans feel about this tag.

#Starsky and Hutch #Boyfriends #Hutch got the recipe from his mother-in-law #My first Tumblr post #Daisy loves SH #lady blue

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venactricisfics · 5 years ago

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Malibu Desert

It was just supposed to be a workout.

A Mayans based Story Adult Content

Master List

Chapter Nine

“Are you going out like that?” Bishop asks as I bend down to tie my sneakers. I look down at myself wearing yoga pants and a crop top and hop up on the stool.

“Yeah, just going to the yard to work out with Gilly,” I give him a confused look. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? Do I need to change?”

“Are you comfortable, querida?” he sets a cup of coffee in front of me as he goes back to the stove to fry bacon. I nod. “Don’t change. You wearing that is just gonna make it hard for anyone to get any work done.”

“Stop,” I chuckle as I take a sip from my cup, “No one but you looks at me like that.”

“Everyone looks at you like that,” he responds. “They don’t act on it because you’re my queen.”

“Your queen?” I quirk a brow, slipping from the stool to make toast. I could successfully make toast without burning it. That’s still cooking, right?

“I’d never call you my ol’ lady,” he places the cooked bacon on plates and we sit together at his kitchen bar, “at least not to your face.”

“That makes you a very smart man,” I peck his cheek, “Another reason I love you.”

“No, it’s cause without me you’d starve,” he says back, giving my thigh a gentle squeeze.

“That too,” I slide my arms around his neck from behind and give him another kiss before taking a piece of bacon from his plate. “I gotta meet Gilly in fifteen, see you at the yard?”

“I don’t like the idea of you going out alone,” Bishop’s word’s stern.

“It’s fifteen minutes. Straight there, no detours, I promise,” I say. “You’ve still got to get showered and dressed.”

“I still don’t fucking like it,” he stated. “That shithead is still out there.”

“I know that more than anyone,” I grab my keys from the table by the door, “I can’t be watched twenty-four/seven. Yesterday I had to stop Coco from coming in the ladies’ room with me at work.”

“Alright,” he agrees reluctantly, “text me when you get there.”

As promised in fifteen minutes I shift my SUV into park and type out a text:

"Now I'm thinking about you naked in the shower alone," I smirk and hit send.

"That's not what I meant when I said text me. I've already got your ass in those pants on my mind. Be good. See you soon," he sent back.

I send him a wink and a heart emoji then step out of my SUV. I give Chucky a wave as I cross the yard to the cage.

"You ready, hermana?" Coco greats me. He takes in my confused look. "Gilly is late. Asked me to get you started."

“OK,” I drop my duffle by the gate mentally preparing myself for my lesson.

“I was thinking,” he said, “you’re little, right? There’s no fucking way you can take down a huge guy by yourself.”

“You and Bishop aren’t exactly huge and you hold your own,” I state.

“Si, but we’ve been training for fucking ever. Our fucking life made it where we had to from the fucking womb,” he said. “And we don’t have that kind of time. Imma teach you something that will fucking keep you breathing. And put the other asshole in the fucking ground.”

I nod listening to him. I knew at my core he was right. There was no way a few days of learning how to kick or punch would stop Warren or any one of his men from doing whatever they wanted to me. I could slow them down but just enough to piss them off. And then I’d still be running and hiding. Coco’s way was a permanent solution.

“Take this,” he pulls his piece from the pocket of his kutte. “You ever shoot before?”

“I used go skeet shooting with my dad,” I hold the 9mm pistol in my hand studying its weight, “Nothing like this.”

“The fuck is a skeet?” Coco asks.

“Clay target flung in the air. I was pretty good,” I curl my fingers around the butt of the gun letting testing how it feels.

“Rich white people making up shit to shoot at,” he snorts a laugh, “that,” he motions to the piece in my hand, “you use that to put down a guy. Nothing fake about killing a man. You do what you gotta hermana. The rest of the bullshit fades away.”

I nod, “I get it. We’re not that much different. Life may have fucked us in different ways but we both got fucked. And now we’re here. You’re teaching me how to keep from getting fucked again. That’s something.”

For the next couple of hours, Coco taught me to hold the gun, aim, and shoot. Gilly arrived and showed me the best ways to take a guy down unexpected. Side and groin being the best targets. Kicks would be far more impactful than a fist. My legs are stronger than my arms.

I move into the shade and take a drink from my water bottle and reapply sunscreen. Getting a sideways look from the guys. “Not all of us are blessed with caramel skin. Y’all should wear it too, melanoma is a bitch.”

“Take your fair skin inside,” Gilly laughed tossing a sweaty towel at me. I wrinkle my nose and toss it back at him.

I close my eyes, feeling the cool air hit my skin when I walk in the clubhouse. I didn't realize how hot it was outside until I savored the air-conditioned room. I reach my arms up in the air to stretch and then bend down and lift my foot to stretch the backs of my legs. I was a little sore. But nothing a few stretches couldn’t fix.

"Fuck," I hear Bishop mutter behind me, "you are making it really fucking hard to concentrate."

I glance back at him over my shoulder seeing that he’s clearly checking out my ass from his table with Taza and Hank, “I am not doing anything.” My lips tug into a slight smirk as I stand. I rather enjoyed the way he was looking at me.

“You are doing plenty, querida,” he says back. “Come sit.” I give a gentle kiss to his lips before taking the seat beside his.

“I didn’t mean to distract you,” I move my gaze between the men.

“It is a welcome one, sweetheart,” Taza says. “Beer?” I shake my head, “Too early for me. I’ll take a Diet Coke if you’ve got one.”

“Just regular,” he responds grabbing a can from the fridge. “I’ll put it on the list for the Prospect.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I open the can and take a sip.

“You’re here almost as much as we are,” he states, “It’s not a big deal.”

I nod realizing just how much I was here. If I wasn’t hanging out with Bishop after a table meeting I was helping Chuckie with the yard books. Or EZ clean. I wasn’t privy to all the details that happened on the other side of the stained glass door. But I knew enough.

“It doesn’t bother you that I’m here so much?”

“Na, you class up the joint,” Hank responds. I shake my help with a smile. I knew he was flattering me. It was nice to have people. For so long Warren kept me from people. I was isolated. And now I had freedom. I could be fully myself. And I couldn’t thank Bishop enough for that.

My thoughts are interrupted by a bang and a loud crash from outside. Without another thought, the four of us push out of the clubhouse door. The noise was coming from the garage.

“Mother fucker,” Angel lies on the garage floor as Coco and Gilly lift the bike off of him. I rush back to my SUV and grab my medical bag. I couldn’t stand idly by since there was something I can do to help. I drop to my knees beside him. My eyes quickly scanning over him and I shine a light in his eyes. Watching his eyes dilate.

“Doesn’t appear to be any brain damage,” I give him a slight smile, “well not much.” His pulse was racing, his breathing was labored. “Look at me, Angel. You’ve got to stay calm.” My hand moves along his side and find a screwdriver lodged in his side.

“Fuck calm,” he grunts as he starts to get up. I shove him back, “Be still you moron.” I hold the screwdriver steady keeping the blood from gushing more. “You have a dislocated shoulder on top of a puncture in your side. It’s in there pretty deep. We really need to get you to the hospital.”

“Just yank it out, Malibu. Give me a bandaid and a beer,” he groans.

“And have you bleed all over my shoes, no fucking way,” I responded. “You don’t have to act all macho. I know it hurts like hell.” I glance back as the guys surround me in a semicircle, waiting for instructions. I lock my gaze with Bishop’s, “Bring my SUV over and put the back seats down. I can’t fix this here. And I don’t want you dragging him through a dark, dirty tunnel.”

We hadn’t talked about what happens on the other side of the border, but I knew. Not everything but enough. Some of the shit that happened they couldn’t explain in a traditional hospital. But Angel is legal and he fell in the garage.

“Get him in the back,” I keep pressure on his side as Gilly and Riz hoist him up. I climb in as they load him through the hatch. I look down with a half-smile, trying to keep calm. But he was weak and the color was fading from his face. I meet Bishop’s eyes in the rearview and give a nod. “Hurry.”

It felt like an eternity as we drove the few miles from the scrap yard to Santo Padre Memorial Hospital. I had the ER on the phone and they were ready as my SUV pulled into the ambulance bay. The hatch opens and the ER doctors help unload him onto a gurney. I was so focused on keeping my hand pressed to Angel’s side I barely heard the doctors and nurses telling me they got it.

“You can’t come back here, Nova. Now let us work,” Dr. Ramos says as she takes over keeping the pressure on the wound. The warmth of his blood flowed through my fingers as I let go. They wheel him through the double doors. I stop and stare after them relaxing only after I feel Bishop’s hands on my shoulders.

“Did someone call EZ or their father?” I wipe my hand across my face as I’m lead to the waiting room.

“They’re on the way,” Hank says and hands me a rag to wipe the blood from my hands and face.

“Thanks,” I slide my arms into the dark hoodie that Bishop offered then take a seat beside him. I didn’t realize how much blood and grease was on my body until I slide the zipper up. I didn’t care how shitty I looked at the moment. My eyes bounce from the nurses' station to the door watching as Felipe Reyes walks through the automatic doors. He’s met instantly by Taza and Riz. They explain how the bike fell from the lift and fell on top of him.

I stand up when Ramos comes from the back. I relax reading her expression. I knew Angel would be OK before she spoke. He needed fluid antibiotics overnight and he would get to leave in the morning. Take it easy for a few weeks. EZ and Felipe are lead to the back to see Angel.

“Take me home?” I slip my arms around Bishop’s waist.

“Of course, querida,” his arms around my shoulders as he leads me out of the hospital and to my SUV. I walked straight from the car through the house and into the bathroom. Bishop helps me strip my clothes from my body. It wasn’t seductive, it was comforting. I let him take care of me. He followed me into the shower. The blood and grime rinse from my body and swirl down the drain. He scrubs my hair and body clean.

I settle with my head resting on his chest in my bed. We lay there quietly as he rubs my shoulder lightly with his thumb. The day had everything. Joy and Fear. I know above anything, that here is where I belong. I just say simply, “I love you.” Before closing my eyes.

#Mayans #Mayans MC #mayansfx #Bishop Losa #Bishop losa x OC #bishop losa x reader #Bishop losa smut #SOA #sons of anarchy

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cherry3point14 · 6 years ago

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Thunder Thighs

Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Kinda cracky. You’re a bit of a perv. Stitching up an injury. Word Count: 3000ish. Summary/Prompt: You’re visiting your friend Jody when two flannel-clad brutes come storming in the door, both bleeding and needing help. You help the shorter one with stitches to his thigh. When Jody and Sam walk in to check on you guys, they were not expecting to find you like that! A/N: Guess who’s back, back again. By that I mean guess who’s back with a prompt by my girl @divadinag? That’s right, me! Basically, this is a trash fic with no discernable plot beyond holy shit DEAN HOT.

Ao3 if you prefer

As much as you hate doing the dishes, and that’s why you own a dishwasher, you’re still doing them. Jody cooked for you, saving you from the pseudo-food in your freezer. Plus your mom taught you that manners matter, especially if you’re the guest. It doesn’t help that Jody excused herself to the living room to take a call from the station.

Honestly, it’s her fault. She straight up left you alone with the dishes.

It’s not that bad anyway. Considering you never do your own it’s almost a novelty. The soap Jody has smells like a poor imitation of roses. It’s pink anyway. And the whole thing is keeping you entertained while she's busy. Idle hands are the devils' playthings and all that.

You’re humming to yourself since there’s no music. You’re offended by the lack of a radio or anything but Jody probably didn’t count on being gone this long. Or the fact that you’d start doing chores in her absence. She’s going to smack you upside the head when she gets back but the dishes will be done so you know she’ll be grateful too.

It’s a particularly stirring moment of the tuneless song you’re humming when the back door slams open, “Jody! Little help here!” Two hulking masses of flannel amble in with no consideration for the fact that they are total stranger dangers.

Obviously, you scream.

The noise begins shrill and high pitched. Like how you imagine Macaulay Culkin screams now that he’s come of age. Then it morphs into a roar of attack all without taking a breath.

Of the two men who have burst in unannounced and covered in blood, the taller one scrunches up his entire face. Dramatics aside you’d think the noise is causing more pain than whatever injury he has. The shorter one leans his friend against the wall and then raises his hands in a calming, defensive position, “sweetheart…”

You finally take in some air, by which time Jody has come running in guns blazing. But you’re not some defensive, wilting wallflower. You can look after yourself. You dip your hands into sink again hoping to find a knife or other sharp kitchen implement. What you yank out, dragging a trail of dirty, soapy water with it, is a metal potato masher. Determined to not die like this you do the only that seems reasonable since Jody hasn’t fired a shot yet.

You throw the damn thing.

It spins as it cuts through the air and hits the shorter man square in the face. Success. You’ve fended off your attacker, or at the very least softened him up. Now all you need is some butter and you’re in business.

“Shit!” He growls as he rubs the wet spot on his face while your weapon clatters to the floor.

“Y/N! Y/N! It’s fine.” Jody’s tucking her gun away and stepping between you and the potential murderers, before you attack again. “I know these dummies.”

She throws a pointed look in their direction as you finally feel your heartbeat calm enough to think rationally. “They didn’t knock.” It’s the most important thing your coherent mind wants to say. You’re not crazy, because it’s them who are uncivilized.

She smiles at you like you’re a child but her tone is clearly meant to chastise the lumberjacks behind her. “That’s right they didn’t knock because they were born in a frickin’ barn. Y/N, this is Sam and Dean.”

They’re both introduced together so there’s a solid minute where you’re still not sure which one is which. You only know that collectively they form a duo known as ‘Sam and Dean’. The taller one, all hair in his face, whichever one he is, seems to be struggling to stand straight. Although, considering his height the air might be that much thinner up there.

“Listen, Jody, we’re real sorry to barge in like this but Sam he’s-” it’s the shorter one talking, at least now you know which is which.

Jody takes one look at Sam and her friendly annoyance becomes motherly concern real quick.

“What the hell happened to you guys?” You watch your friend go across the room and eyeball Sam's blood-soaked undershirt. Dean, still watching you with annoyed suspicion in case of more flying utensils, pulls her in to whisper in hushed tones. She pushes him back with an elbow to the ribs, “what am I going to do with you two? Help me get him upstairs.”

“Jody what’s…” you start.

“Y/N I’m sorry maybe it’s best if you went on home?” She doesn’t outrightly say she’s throwing you out but it sure as hell sounds like she’s throwing you out.

Dean chooses then to grit his teeth at Sam’s weight back on his shoulders. You scan his body for the source of the pain and see a sizeable cut in his now red stained jeans.

“At least let me help him with that while you help… um, Sam.”

Dean looks about ready to argue but Jody catches your meaning and rolls her eyes. “So, you’re both hurt?” She sighs like they're both so exhausting although you can read the worry behind it.

“It’s fine, I’m fine. Can you just patch up him please?”

“Sure, I’ll patch him up. While my nice doctor friend takes a look at you.”

Dean doesn’t argue but then Jody has that power over the majority of people she meets. Sheriff or not, she gets her way most of the time.

You follow behind them as Jody carries most of the weight but somehow they manage to get Sam moving. Between the three of them, it’s all limbs and sideways shuffles but they move him upstairs and out of sight.

Everything happened so quickly that the sudden silence of the room now that it’s empty is deafening. There’s scraping furniture and muffled yelling from above while you’re left there staring at your nails.

A minute later and Dean starts hobbling back down the stairs. Apparently, he’s forgotten you’re there because he’s grimacing with every step now that Jody and Sam are gone. It’s only halfway down that he notices you still standing in the middle of the living room and straightens his jaw. “I’m fine by the way."

“You sure look fine,” your arm stiffly points at the dining table. “Sit.”

He grumbles under his breath but still slumps into the chair, Jody and her superpower must be rubbing off on you.

You lean over and use careful, measured touches to peel the frayed denim away from the cut. You don’t normally deal with patients so you’re paying extra attention to the pressure of your fingers. Shooting for gentle. It still has to hurt though. The cut is deeper than it looks. “Dean right?”

“Yeah.” He grinds through clenched teeth.

You stand up swiftly. Quickly enough to give yourself headrush if you weren’t so focused on the task at hand. “The jeans, lose ‘em”.

You don’t hang around to see his mouth twist in confusion. There’s a first aid kit under the sink, god knows what Jody is using upstairs. You know where it is because you’d been here a few months back when Claire cut her hand on something or other. Of course, she’d only needed a bandage at the time but you know it will have the tools you need now. In the past, you’ve never questioned why your friend has such a large at home medical kit. Now you’re guessing evenings like this are why.

When you wander back into the living room with the hefty plastic box in your arms you’re instantly irritated at the sight of Dean still clothed. “Do you need help taking those off?”

There’s a reason you don’t work in clinical or surgery, you have a shitty bedside manner. Though Dean, to his merit, seems to be riling you up extra fast.

“I don’t need to take these off.” For someone who looks like a male stripper he sure is being a brat about taking off his pants.

“That cut needs stitches and I need to see what I’m doing if I’m going to sew you up all pretty. Normally I’d cut them off but I’m guessing you want to be a big boy about this?”

He frowns petulantly, then sighs and finally starts working on his belt and fly. “Don’t get excited or anything sweetheart. This is strictly professional.” He’s trying to claw back some of whatever macho bravado he thinks he has.

“Don’t fall in love. Got it.” You quip back at him complete with a finger gun. It’s all fun and games anyway. That is until his pants drop.

The guy is handsome. That’s not a question. He’s an Adonis. You don’t need to dwell on the sharpness of his jaw, the emerald hue of his eyes or his lips that are the perfect mathematical curve for kissing the fuck out of.

But the guy almost murdered you tonight, in your mind at least. So, you’d made an effort to not let yourself be distracted by his face. You’d been doing well so far. You hadn’t looked at him much at all, even if you’d thought about it.

At least you hadn't looked until those pants dropped.

It’s hard to pinpoint what makes your throat tighten. Is it his black boxer briefs that leave nothing to the imagination? Probably. The guys got a third arm for crying out loud. And it’s so inappropriate that you’re even noticing but damn, those thighs. He's got those bowed legs, which are hot on a regular day, except Dean also has these thighs that are pure sin. Toned, muscled tree trunks that look like they could slam into you with all the force off…

He whistles, waves a hand to his face and lets a self-satisfied smirk settle on his lips. “I’m up here sweetheart.”

Oh god, you’d been staring. It wasn’t professional but then again your patients are usually a lot less chatty and a hell of a lot less handsome. No one is handsome when they’re dead. It’s not your fault. You’re at Jody’s. You hadn’t been prepared for this.

Somehow you have the gall to act affronted by his accusation, “and your gaping wound is down there genius. I’m a doctor for crying out loud.”

Good. He looks confused like he can’t decide if you’re a pervert or medical professional. The truth is a little of both. It’s hardly your fault that his cut goes all the way up his thigh to the edge of his underwear. Wait, what if it goes further? No. No, it can’t.

Once you open the first aid kit everything flows on autopilot and his dumb half-naked body fades into the background. You know this, it’s as easy as blinking. You sterilize the needle and lay everything out like you're at work. A latex glove gets pulled over each hand and you remind yourself to be careful since he’s still breathing.

"This is going to hurt," you warn him with alcohol in your hand.

“I’ll be fi- shit!” He’s so busy trying to be brave that he doesn’t brace himself for the sting as you clean the cut and blood drying on his skin. His fists clench at his sides but other than that he stays deadly still while you finish.

Then when you're ready to put Humpty Dumpty back together again you find yourself pausing to look down at his leg. You’re too high off the ground to do this without killing your back. You already know that there’s only one solution and as much as you don’t want to you slide to the floor. Resting your knees between his thigh gap, all the better to stitch him up.

Whatever he wants to say he holds in. Thankfully. If you’ve got to ignore being this close to his dick then the least he can do is keep his perfect mouth shut.

It’s a grueling silence at first. You’re not talking because you’re concentrating on how many stitches you want to make. He’s not talking, you imagine because it hurts. It's only after the first few stitches are tied that he’s used to the jab of the needle enough to speak.

“So, you’re a doctor huh? That how you met Jody?”

You’d shrug or laugh if your hands weren’t busy, “I mean, I’m a doctor but not a doctor doctor. We actually met over a dead body.”

He stiffens under your touch and you don’t think it’s because you hit a nerve. Unfortunately, it’s not an unusual reaction when you tell people about your line of work.

“I’m a pathologist. So, I deal exclusively in bodily fluids, specimens, and autopsies. I mean, I’m great at stitching things but my patients are normally pretty stiff.”

He laughs at you and the sound is refreshing. There are no questions about why you’d want to cut open a dead body or how you can stand to do it. “That why you don’t have the whole soothing doctor thing going on?”

“Exactly. I never was a soft touch and cadavers don’t talk back.”

You’re going faster now. He isn’t so tense under your fingers and you’re finding a rhythm.

“I can’t believe I’m nearly finished and you still haven't told me how you got this.”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you darlin’”

God knows what it is about the way he says darling but it stops you from sinking the needle into him again, at least for a second. From your kneeling position between his legs, you can’t help but look up at him through your lashes. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you wonder if you're the only one who can taste your heartbeat.

“Try me.” You don’t even know what you mean when you say it. You don’t even know what you're offering.

Jody does.

“Y/N! Dean! What the hell?”

Jody is standing at the bottom of the stairs with a freshly sewn together Sam, who is better able to support himself on the banister. And they’re both wearing equally shocked looks. All raised eyebrows and open mouths. It’s only when you look up at Dean again and how the green of his eyes has all but disappeared that you understand.

No less than an hour ago Dean burst in as a stranger. Now you're on your knees in front of him while his jeans and belt sit around his ankles. And when you paused to stare into his eyes like a lovesick puppy you rested your hand on his uninjured thigh. Something you’re only noticing as the heat of him seeps into your fingers.

Yeah, you can understand what Jody thinks she's walked in on. You get what this looks like.

“It’s not what it… I just have one more stitch and then he’s free to go.”

Well, now it sounds like you’re the one who orchestrated all this. Like you’re keeping Dean here against his will. He doesn't seem to notice their entrance. Or care. He hasn’t stopped looking at you with this curl to his lips like he thinks the whole thing is so damn funny. He might be right. You’d see the funny side if it wasn’t you on your knees.

You tie and cut the last stitch with Sam and Jody whispering as your soundtrack. As soon as you’re done you jump up and pretend that you don't need to get away from the heat between his thighs.

“I… erm. I need should wrap that up and you need to keep it dry for a few days.”

“Whatever you say doc.”

It’s not fair that he’s so comfortable now. You almost regret stitching him up. Now that Dean isn't in pain he's far more dangerous than when he was busting in the kitchen to kill you.

Jody’s helping Sam to the sofa even though he insists he’s fine and they’re both so there. But Dean's still looking at you like they don't exist.

You pick up the gauze intending to wrap his thigh and realize with him sitting this might be harder than it looks. “Um, can you…?” You point upwards to motion standing without thinking of the consequences.

You bend down again to wrap his thigh only realizing halfway through that because he’s standing you’re now eye level with his dick.

His barely concealed by his underwear dick.

You cut the gauze probably before you should and secure it so you can jump back again. The smile on Jody’s face definitely isn’t making you want to blush. It’s just a dick. Every second person has them. Or at least, that’s what you’re telling yourself.

“Ok, you’re good to go.” You say loudly enough for the room while packing up the first aid kit.

He pulls up his still bloodstained, ripped jeans chuckling to himself, “thanks, doll. Hope I was a better patient than a dead body.”

“Debatable,” you glance at him out the corner of your eye.

He holds a hand to his chest dramatically, still staring at you, as Sam hauls himself up again. “Come on dude, we’ve still got to clean up that thing.”

Dean all but ignores Sam, once again focussing on you. “Right right. I should swing by and see you though? Get these stitches removed by a professional?”

Jody starts pushing Dean out the door, finally sick of them both, “if you wouldn’t mind not accosting my friends. Any more than you already have.”

“I’ll see you in a week! Doctors orders!” you call out from behind Jody. She closes the door giving you a look that’s half warning and half judgment.

You 100% don’t care.

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewillpage Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278 @bloodydaydreamer

#dean x reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn x reader #dean winchester x reader #spn fanfiction #supernatural #spn #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean x y/n #kinda cracky

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fanficshiddles · 5 years ago

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You owe me, Chapter 15

Loki and April were SO relieved and happy when they knew that the ship had docked in America.

They bundled into the boot of the car once again and Martin drove them off. It was so much quicker than when they’d loaded. So they weren’t cramped for too long. And Martin was glad when he opened the boot, they weren’t going at it like rabbits again.

‘We can’t thank you enough, Martin. Here’s something for your troubles.’ April said and handed him some money in an envelope.

‘Cheers kiddo. This should pay for new eyeballs after what I’ve seen.’ He said jokingly and gave April a pat on the back.

‘Could’ve been worse.’ She shrugged.

‘How, exactly?’ He asked.

‘At least we’re hot! You might’ve had to see two old, horrible, people going at it.’ She winked at Martin, making him laugh.

‘That’s true. Now you both take care of yourselves. And remember, they drive on the wrong side of the road here. I don’t want to hear about you two being stopped by police after making it all this way.’

‘We will be careful. Thank you.’ Loki smiled and shook his hand, he liked Martin.

Martin waved them off, then Loki and April got in the car. Loki took the driver’s side again.

‘You think I’m hot.’ Loki smirked.

‘Don’t flatter yourself. I’m the hot one. You’re…. average.’ She shrugged and put on her seatbelt.

Loki rolled his eyes. ‘So, what’s the plan now?’

‘I don’t know. This is all on you now. I have no idea what we need to do or where we need to go.’ April said.

Loki nodded and tapped his lower lip with his finger, thinking.

‘We need to find a base. Come up with a plan. I have someone I can get in touch with, someone on the inside.’

‘What, exactly, are you needing anyway?’

Loki glanced at her, then decided she best know what they’re after.

‘I need what is called a tesseract. It’s an infinity stone, incredibly powerful. It holds my power, once I get hold of it, I will have my powers back.’

‘Tesseract? Weird name. What does it look like?’

‘It’s a blue cube. You’ll know it when you see it. But it’s too powerful for a mortal to handle.’ He said firmly, looking at her intently.

‘Alright then. Let’s go get your blue cube.’ She smirked and sat back on the seat.

Loki shook his head and rolled his eyes. ‘First, we are getting food and getting a proper sleep somewhere.’ He put the car into gear and off they went.

It took a few hours to drive to the outskirts of New York, where they booked into a motel for a few nights. Hoping that SHIELD wouldn’t know they were there, at least not yet.

Loki used a burner phone to get in touch with an agent he had on the inside. He set up a meeting with him in a café across from the motel.

He was told as far as SHIELD knew, Loki was still in England. He was also told of the location where the base was, and was also given confirmation that the tesseract was indeed in there.

It was just going to be a matter of getting inside and getting hold of it.

When Loki returned to their room, he was confused to find April asleep. But she was clearly having a nightmare. She kept thrashing back and fore, saying no repeatedly and flinging her hands about. She also mentioned the name Alexander.

‘April?’ Loki called out and moved towards the bed.

He reached out and grabbed her shoulder, shaking her awake. April was in such a panicked state when she woke. She launched at Loki and got him in a head lock with her thighs, hauling him down to the floor and pinning him there. He let out a grunt as he hit the floor, his eyes wide in surprise at her sudden strength considering she had just been asleep a second ago.

April’s eyes focused and she realised it was Loki. As soon as she loosened her thighs, she jumped up.

‘Shit. Sorry.’ She rambled quickly and backed away.

Loki stood up and rubbed his neck, he was impressed though.

‘Nightmare?’

She nodded and rubbed her arm, looking awfully vulnerable all of a sudden. Loki wasn’t sure what it was, but he knew now wasn’t the time to give her into trouble for pinning him like that. He had a feeling there was a lot more to it.

‘Want to speak about it?’ He asked as he stood up and dusted himself off, then sat on the edge of the bed.

‘No. It was just a nightmare. Monsters and stuff.’ She shrugged.

But Loki knew that was a lie. She was obviously thinking about Alexander and going after him. They were getting closer, so to speak.

‘Where are you going?’ He asked when she moved across the room towards the bathroom.

‘For a piss. Is that alright?’ She snapped suddenly, glaring at him.

Loki narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Don’t take that tone with me, young lady.’ He snarled.

She shook her head. ‘Whatever.’ She muttered under her breath and continued on into the bathroom.

When she emerged a few minutes later, Loki took great pleasure in forcing her to submit. She defied him, wouldn’t kneel when he told her to. But with a harsh tug in her hair, he easily had her down on her knees on front of him.

Once he’d forced her to give him a blowjob, he repaid the favour. Spreading her out on the bed on her back, he latched onto her cunt and made her dance on the tip of his tongue.

He had to reach up and cover her mouth with his hand when he made her come, because she was about to scream so loud he was sure the entire motel would’ve heard. That did make him feel very smug though, when he crawled up over her body, his lips and chin was glistening with her wetness.

‘Fucking hell, Loks. Where did you learn to do that?’ She gasped, unable to comprehend what he just did to her.

Loki chuckled and kissed her on the lips, hungrily. Biting her lower lip and tugging back playfully, that made her whimper.

‘Practice, my dear.’ He grinned.

‘Well… You can practice all the more on me anyyyytime.’ She grinned back at him.

‘Good to know.’ He chuckled.

The following morning, April was awake before Loki. She was doing some workouts at the side of the bed. Loki rolled over and watched her for a while, admiring her body and the way she moved.

‘Thought of a plan yet?’ She asked when she noticed he was awake.

‘Mmm. Not yet. Unfortunately, SHIELD is not easy to get into without any of my powers.’ He sighed and rolled onto his back, hands behind his head.

April hopped up onto the bed and straddled over him. She was still naked from the night before and so was he. He could feel the warmth from her cunt upon his stomach.

He couldn’t help himself from stroking up and down her thighs, gripping them tightly. So firm and strong.

‘Well, we need to come up with something. There’s always ways to infiltrate somewhere.’

‘Oh is there, now?’ Loki asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

‘Of course. It’s just finding the right kind of… leverage.’ She said teasingly as she trailed her fingers across his chest, noting his breathing deepen.

‘And what kind of leverage do you suggest?’

‘The best kind. Sex of course. It is a male orientated organisation, isn’t it?’ She grinned wickedly.

‘Yes…’ Loki said cautiously.

‘And what can’t most macho males resist?’

‘Sex.’ Loki commented, his eyes darkening as she started rocking her hips very slightly against his toned stomach. He could feel her wetness against his skin now, as she was becoming aroused.

She rolled her eyes. ‘As well as sex…’ She trailed off and looked at him, waiting for the answer.

But Loki wasn’t thinking entirely straight with the way she was softly grinding against him.

‘My god. You men really do just think with your cocks.’ She sighed and moved off him, to kneel on the bed next to him instead. Hoping it would allow his brain to work more.

‘Enlighten me then, with what else we apparently can’t resist?’ He growled and moved onto his side, leaning on his elbow.

A smirk spread across April’s face.

‘A poor, beautiful, damsel in distress.’

#Loki #Tom Hiddleston #fan fiction #you owe me

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imagine-loki · 5 years ago

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You owe me, Chapter 15

TITLE: You owe me CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 15 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine after the battle in New York, Odin sent Loki back to Earth without his powers as punishment. SHIELD are after him and he meets a woman who isn’t all she seems at first and she has her own agenda. The two end up teaming up, to help one another. But it’s not quite as plain sailing as they’d hoped. RATING: M