#i almost lost it when the seats where rolling rolling ~~ during that part in UN Village

[violexa]

okay so watching lonsdaleite dot in a 4DX cinema was the weirdest experience ever! Feeling your seat vibrate with the bass was so much fun!!

Quick question: does anybody know which scent they used to spray in the room? It kinda reminded me of juniper? My hair still smells like it 😄

[lostintransist]

Secrets Are For Grown Ups | Part 2

Shout out to the fabulous @xbirdiex for letting me hit them up in their DM's to beta for this. 😘

CW: Limb Loss, suicide mentioned in passing, thoughts of murder, Emotions™

What does one do when confronted with their unknown sins?

Follow them home of course.

Johnny had lost his left leg at knee due to a bomb going off at a job and Simon had been discharged after repeatedly failing mental health evals. They were both given pensions and discharged with honors. Roach and Gaz had been kept together when moved to a new team and Price had been ‘gifted’ a higher position by command that left him chained to a desk.

The only confirmation they had that your leaving had been somehow their fault was the face down picture on the table. Price had called them to check on you as you had a family emergency. You had been firmly ensconced in a hard airport seat when they reached your flat. If they shared a speaking look about the photo before Johnny slid it from it’s frame and folded into his pocket, they never discussed it.

The discharges were how they finally ended up together. Simon needed something, someone, to care for to keep from eating a bullet and Johnny fighting him tooth and nail to stay alive was the right project. The physical therapists loved seeing Johnny rolled in by Simon because they knew he wouldn’t fight them on exercises today. He would snarl at his “L.T.” and actually work. They had to be careful to not let him overwork himself lest he be unable to work at the next day’s appointment.

Their first kiss had been when Johnny had been fed up with Simon’s sass about physical therapy. He had only been legless for a month and barely started trying to relearn how to balance.

Simon carried him from the car to their shared flat.

“I’m not going back.”

“Mmm, what a surprise it will be when I drag your ass to PT tomorrow then.”

Being carried bridal style rankled somewhere deep in Johnny. He wanted to take a bite of out Simon’s neck and keep ripping but that would have left him stranded in the hall with a dead body and only one working foot.

The look Simon sent him, one of cool acknowledgment and smugness had Johnny gripping both halves of Simon’s face and planting a kiss on him.

That would show the bastard.

Showed him something alright. All Simon could see the remaining few steps to the flat was the subtle shift in Johnny’s gym shorts and rising heat in his cheeks. Simon hadn’t said anything about it. Dinner had been a simple soup. Night fell. When Simon helped Johnny to bed that night, he inserted himself next to the man.

Johnny didn’t question it. Frankly he was relieved. He had flirted for years in front of the man he didn’t think he would ever catch. The press of his dry lips and light fingers had ignited the combustible fumes that swirled between them. Those fumes choked out any hope of anything healthy with anyone else.

When Johnny had ‘graduated’ from therapy and could walk with almost no limp Simon invited Johnny to move with him. They found a medium sized city in a place neither of them had been to but could reach several national parks and an airport relatively quickly. Housing costs were rising but they found an older neighborhood with a good amount of trees in the yards and a little space in the back to grow plants. They could see the mountains when they stood on the second story porch.

The previous owner had mentioned that the school pick-up and drop off point happened at their house for the junior high and the elementary schools. Kids would wait on the corner of their yard away from the cars. That is why the two owners prior had installed the stone benches that sat so close to the sidewalk. Simon had planned on taking them out until he heard that piece of information.

One day, during mid-spring where the mornings were chilled enough to need a jacket but the afternoons would leave you sweating, Johnny saw something that gave him pause. He was in the process of moving bags of clothes into the car to drop off at the shelter when the bus delivered a load of kids. He waved with the bus driver and slammed the trunk of the crossover.

The squeal particular to children had Johnny snapping his back to a pair of children who walked past his parked car.

“Don’t do that Mac!”

A glare he had only ever seen on Simon’s face painted itself across the face of a child who couldn’t be any older than seven. Johnny felt the bottom drop out of his stomach and fall into his ass.

“Don’t yell at me stupid!”

“Mom says you can’t call me stupid! Stupid!”

Stepping into the sidewalk Johnny watches the the children, one with long hair and the other short, bicker until they reached a house five doors up and disappeared behind the front door.

Stumbling into the garage Johnny attempts to call for Simon. All that escapes is a croak. After a hard shake of his head and clearing his throat it works.

“Simon!”

The shout must have had an edge of panic because Simon appears with a hand gun pointed at the floor and the his Ghost eyes staring out. Upon seeing Johnny, unharmed and alarmed Simon tucked his work face and his gun away.

“What happened? Why are you sweating? Are you sick?”

Johnny swatted away that hands that reached for his face.

“I saw a fecking child with your face Si. Kid got off the bus and was arguing with his sister. I need you to come with me.”

Simon blinked at his beloved a few times. The fuck did he say?

“Why would a child in the states have my face? You know it is possible for unrelated people to look alike right? It’s important to me that you know that.”

“Listen to me Simon!” Johnny stumbled back, prosthetic catching funny against the concrete floor. “I, never, in all my life have seen a glare that looks exactly like yours. But this kid when yelling at his sister had one of your meanest glares. I could see him in you still after he smiled. I am asking you to come with me and knock on a door to introduce ourselves to the neighbors and find out what the hell is going on.”

Simon hadn’t seen Johnny this riled up in a long time. He searched his husbands face, noting the heaving of his chest and the flex of his fingers as he fought them from curling into fists.

“Okay,” he said gently as if he were speaking to a spooked horse, “let’s go meet the neighbors.”

That is how the found themselves at your door. The waiting after the harsh knock sounded into the space beyond the frame rattled something loose in Simon. Could he have a kid? He had been no prude before settling down with Johnny but he couldn’t remember more than a few women he ever fucked raw. Everyone of them had been on birth control, at least they said they were.

Johnny crossed his arms, drawing Simon’s gaze. They were both freaked out, concerned.

When the door opens there is you. A little older, a little more solid than when you had fled England, a few new piercings, but it’s still you. Simon glances to the wall visible behind you catching sight of two children in photos who wouldn’t look out of place on the walls of his and Johnny’s home. His gaze snaps back to you as you blanch and slam the door shut.

The deadbolt slamming into place solidifies in him the answer that there is something going on here and it absolutely involves them.

Before Johnny can pound his fist into the door to demand answers Simon catches it. Placing a gentle kiss along his knuckles he coaxes him from the door.

“She won’t answer the door. You know she won’t. Let’s all take the evening and try and come back tomorrow while the kids are at school.”

“She owes us answers, Si,” Johnny’s eyes flashed as he snarled.

Simon pulled him down one more step. Once Johnny started moving they walked home, hand in hand.

“She does owe us answers, but we know where she is now and can see about getting them. Right now I suggest we recoup and see what we can find. One of the kids in the photos looked like you Johnny.”

Johnny vibrates with tension until he sees the wisdom in coming at this from another angle. His shoulders drop from his ears as tears prick at his eyes.

“Why wouldn’t she tell us Si?”

Mulling over the answer they complete the walk home.

“Why would she Johnny? You know how we are.”

That sobering statement colored the remainder of the evening. It is late when they decide to call their former captain.

Part 3

Secrets Masterlist | Masterlist

Tags:

@love-kha1 @bdbdhshhs @persephone-kore-law @vmaxis @splaterparty0-0 @momowhoo

@talia-the-gemini @redkarmakai

@beloveds-embrace @cherrycosmos392 @mxtallymarks @love-kha1

[sarahghetti]

it's time for bed; m.k.

pairing: marc spector x reader, steven grant x reader, jake lockley x reader

summary: the boys help out when you have trouble falling asleep.

warnings: none, just fluff all the way through.

MOON KNIGHT MASTERLIST | ALL MASTERLISTS

steven

out of the three of them, steven’s the one who stays up the most. between late night inventory shifts at the museum and getting sucked into a new thousand-page tomb he picked up at a bookstore, he’s the one who tends to bid you goodnight with a sheepish smile, promising that he’ll join you in just a minute, love—I’m almost done.

of course he gets carried away—how couldn’t he? you can’t leave a book halfway through a chapter, after all. but the next chapter is only a dozen or so pages, he can get through that in a jiffy.

repeat that ad infinitum and then it’s late late, which makes him immediately embarrassed when you scuffle out of bed to where he’s seated on the couch.

“sorry, darling—lost track of time.” he slots a bookmark into his current page, giving you a warm smile as he stands. “I’ll come join you now—”

you shake your head, and steven frowns. “everything alright?”

“can’t sleep, s’all.” you mumble and he hums, pulling you down onto the couch with him. you lay your head in his lap, and he covers you with a throw blanket.

“you’re in for a treat tonight,” he says, voice soft as he picks up where he left off. “just started the part on conflicts during the first intermediate period of egypt.”

he starts reading again, out loud this time. steven keeps one hand in your hair, the other tracing over the words as he goes.

“Stable eras of Egyptian history are referred to as 'kingdoms' while eras of political strife or instability are known as 'intermediate periods.' this period has long been labeled a 'dark age'—oh, those are always fun, hm?” he raises his eyebrows and you can’t help but snort softly before he continues. “…When the central government of the old kingdom, which had been built on the model of the early dynastic period in Egypt…”

steven’s always had a nice voice but it’s gentler now, accent rolling over each syllable as he reads. his fingers lightly scratch your scalp and combined with the soothing sound of him speaking, you feel your eyelids grow heavy with each page he turns.

the first time you fell asleep while he read to you, it was on accident.

you just… couldn’t help it. there’s nothing more relaxing than listening to steven animate words on paper, injecting his comments here and there whenever he found something particularly interesting.

but even when you’d flushed red upon waking, steven wasn’t offended in the slightest.

why would he be? he glances down at you now and smiles. there’s a smidge of pride in his chest as you finally doze off in his lap.

he couldn’t care less about the book with you here, finding comfort in him.

steven doesn’t dare try to move you to the bed—not when you’ve finally fallen asleep—and only shifts his position to recline a bit further down the couch.

he can sleep like this. with you, steven could sleep anywhere.

jake

when jake stays up, it’s because he’s out late at night, working his cab shifts. he always lets you and the others know his schedule the minute it comes out so that there are no surprises between you all, and so you don’t worry when he doesn’t come home before you go to bed.

he makes sure to give you a little kiss and an I love you before he leaves, and even texts you around your bedtime as well: good night, princesa. sleep well.

you responded to him hours ago yet here you are, sinking into the mattress with not a wink of sleep to show for it.

it’s not a surprise when you end up hearing the turn of a key in the front door. then, the careful shuffling of someone trying to be quiet as jake comes back from work.

he clicks his tongue, thinking that you’ve left the light on when you fell asleep, but is quickly proven wrong when he sees you’re still awake.

“what are you doing up, baby?” he frowns at the clock, coming to kneel one knee beside you on the bed.

“can’t sleep.” you groan into a pillow, exhausted, and he sighs as brushes the hair back from your face.

“eat with me?”

jaek tends to have a quick bite after a shift before getting ready for bed—either leftovers from dinner or something quick he can scrounge up in the kitchen without making too much noise.

but you’re not asleep this time, eliminating the need to be quiet, and so he hums as he leads you to sit down at the dining table before he goes to search the fridge. he pulls out a container of pasta.

“who made this?”

“steven.”

it immediately gets tossed back on a shelf and you harumph on your poor boy’s behalf, though you know it’s just because jake hates vegan cheese.

the next thing he grabs is a saran-wrapped bundle, one which you recognize as the cookie dough marc made a few days back.

that makes you perk up. “you wanna bake some cookies?”

“who said anything about baking, princesa?”

so that’s how you end up curled around each other on the couch, picking at cookie dough with your hands as jake queues up a movie.

you raise an eyebrow at the runtime. “there’s no way I’m staying awake during all this, you know.”

“of course you are, this is one of my favourites.” he gives you a look, one that implies that you’ll break his heart if you don’t, and you splutter.

“you can’t—you can’t reverse-psychology me into falling asleep.”

“I’m not,” he claims, like a liar.

to his (faked) disappointment, you start to doze off about halfway through the movie, sugar still lingering on your tongue. for all the ribbing he might’ve done before, all he does is press a kiss to the top of your head from where it lays on his chest.

he’ll go to sleep when he’s ready. for now? jake’s got you in his arms and his alter’s baking to eat—it’s a good night.

marc

marc tries to go to bed when you do. no matter if they have to go out to patrol that night, he likes to lay with you as you fall asleep, feeling your breath slow in his arms as he embraces you against his chest.

it’s impossible to stay awake for long when marc’s holding you, not with the gentle way he plays with your hair and grazes his fingers over your skin.

but tonight is different. no matter how much you try, you just. can’t. fall asleep. you shift around in his arms, and he patiently allows you to rearrange your positions as you try to find something comfortable, but nothing sticks.

you grumble, frustrated, and he laughs softly. “can’t sleep?”

“no.” you press your face into his chest, as if you’d find the answer for sleep enveloped in the scent of him. you sigh. “you should just go on patrol, I’ll be fine.”

above you, marc stills, and tilts your head up to give you a stern look.

“none of that, now.” he lightly flicks your nose. “khonshu can wait.”

can he? you wonder, watching marc’s gaze flicker to an empty spot in the room for a moment. he doesn’t move however, only settling in even more beside you, almost pointedly.

you can’t help but grin. “are we antagonizing the bird tonight?”

“only a little.”

marc stays with you as long as you need, talking and joking around with you in bed. he might not say it, but these conversations are some of his favourites—just you and him in the dark, giggling softly as if you’ll wake the city up if you’re too loud.

he can stay up later than you, too, so he especially likes it when you finally start to drift off to sleep and your speech becomes nonsensical.

“don’t put that there,” you mumble out of the blue, eyes long since closed. you’ve practically melted in his arms, and he’s gentle with his touch as to not disturb you.

“my bad,” he whispers, fighting off a laugh. “where does it go?”

“’s simple… it’s…”

you let one last sigh and he knows that you’ve fallen asleep now, nuzzling into him like a cat.

marc wants nothing more than to curl up around you and go to sleep himself, but khonshu makes a snide remark and he knows that he’s pushed the god enough.

he does take one last moment to appreciate you though, admiring you in what little light streams in from the gaps in the curtains.

as much as he loathes to leave you each time, it’s a good motivator—the image of you in their bed, peaceful and safe. cleaning up the streets of crime is just one way for him to help keep you that way, and the faster he works, the sooner he can come home to you.

[sarahs-library]

Come to Solstice with me?

A/N - This is a cheesy Christmas movie trope Az/Reader fic that absolutely nobody asked for that I just couldn't help myself from writing.

Word Count: 1700

Part Two

Your POV

You tapped your foot in time to the beat, eyeing the patrons as they swept across the sticky floor. You raised a hand to the bartender when he looked in your direction, motioning to your empty glass before turning back to observe the room as he began making you another drink. You’d only been waiting fifteen minutes, but the room was stifling from the heat of so many bodies packed inside. The bartender set down a glass of wine next to the tumbler of whiskey, ice already beginning to melt, and you slid a few coins across the counter and thanked him, words lost mostly over the raucous music.

Craning your neck towards the open doors of the patio you tried to find seats where you wouldn’t be jostled every time someone tried to order a drink. You spied an empty table and began to move, weaving in between the drunken revellers on the dance floor whilst trying to keep the drinks in your hands from spilling. Crossing the threshold into the cool night air was a relief. Solstice celebrations were in full swing, even if the day itself was still over a week away, and most bars and restaurants in the Day Court were packed late into the night. You settled down onto the bench to wait, pleasantly surprised that the magic that heated the bar seemed to extend to where you were sitting. You sipped your wine and watched the fae mingling in the streets under the festive lights.

“Sorry I’m late, I got tied up. Were you waiting long?” The voice came out of the shadows behind you as a gloved hand squeezed your bicep in greeting. You turned, smiling up at Azriel as he moved around you to take a seat on the bench opposite. You nudged the tumbler of whiskey across the table to him as you shrugged.

 “Long enough to be a drink in Az, next round is yours.” He inclined his head, a small smile on his lips as he sipped at the whiskey. You’d only seen him a handful of times since the war, he stopped by whenever he was passing through on business for Rhysand, if his schedule allowed it. You’d enjoyed the opportunity to rekindle your friendship, almost fifty years of no contact during Amarantha’s reign had left you missing the shadowsinger’s company.

Azriel gestured to the table and the glass in front of you. “I’m surprised you didn’t just get a bottle, no plans of dancing on tables this evening?” You rolled your eyes at the jibe but couldn’t help the smile that bubbled to your lips.

“I blame Rhys for that.”

“As you should, he’s always been a bad influence.” Under the fae light Azriel’s face looked relaxed, something you hadn’t seen in centuries. He certainly looked better than the last time you’d seen him, broodier than usual and knocking back whiskies almost as fast as you could pour them. He hadn’t said much that evening, just enjoying the companionable silence you’d provided before falling into a deep slumber on the sofa.

“How is everyone?”

“Good, Nyx is getting so big now, he’s becoming a bit of a handful. It’ll get even worse once he can fly by himself.” He smiled as he recalled some memory of his nephew. You’d met the babe once, and even though you weren’t a fan of children when he fixed you with a toothy smile you’d been smitten. You’d joked with Rhys that he was going to be even more successful with the females than he’d been in his youth.

“And the others?”

“Cassian and Nesta are making real progress with the Valkyries, they’ve even got a few of the females from the camp taking part in the training sessions.” You smiled at the thought, Cassian had been championing for an aerial unit of female Illyrians since Rhys had become High Lord, it seemed with Nesta at his side he was finally making the progress he’d always talked about. “Mor’s still in the continent, enjoying playing emissary but from her letters it seems she’s mostly just indulging the sights and local cuisine.”

“That sounds more like her.”

“She’s coming back for Solstice, everyone is. Even Lucian and Elain.” You nodded, not sure if you should push on that particular door yet. He’d told you what Rhys had said, how he’d ordered Azriel to stay away from the middle Archeron sister in the name of Court relations. She’d fled the city, after calling him a coward for not fighting for their budding relationship, ending up in the human lands and the waiting arms of her mate.

“And you? How have you been?” You knew Azriel well enough to see through his blatant diversion but didn’t comment.

“Good, we’ve been making some real progress Under the Mountain. Amarantha had all kinds of tomes hidden, some of them not even from Prythian. I enjoyed getting my hands on those very much.” Azriel nodded, draining the last of his drink. “I think we’ve finally found the last of it though. There’s still so much missing, but it hasn’t been as bad as we originally feared.”

“And your research?”

You sighed, swirling the last of the wine at the bottom of your glass. The thesis you’d been writing before Amarantha had turned Prythian upside down and the war had come had taken a backseat. Especially with the death of your family, you hadn’t found the enthusiasm to continue your work.

“I haven’t thought about it much. There’s still time though.” Caramel eyes watched your face, always assessing. You didn’t sound convincing, even to your own ears. But he offered you the same courtesy and allowed you to change the subject without prying.

“Will you see your mother this Solstice?”

Azriel shook his head; a gloved finger traced the rim of his glass. “Her and Clay have decided to spend Solstice with his family this year.” You knew he was happy for her, to find her partner all those years ago, especially as he’d helped her get out from underneath his father’s thumb whilst Azriel had been sequestered away in the war camps unable to visit.

“Do you have plans?”

“I’ve got a few offers, nothing concrete yet though. I might just spend the opportunity to get ahead with work.” You’d had a few invitations from various friends to spend Solstice with them, and an invite to Helion’s annual ball, but you’d struggled with the holiday since the death of your family. It had been easier in the aftermath of the war, everyone still grieving in one way or another, but now that the people of Prythian seemed intent on celebrating with excess at every given opportunity you weren’t sure if you could stomach the celebration.

Azriel adjusted himself in his seat, leaning a little closer across the table. His wings flared slightly behind him before he tucked them closer to his back. You considered him, waiting for him to speak but he just continued to watch you.

“What?” He opened his mouth, seemingly unable to get the words out. He shook his head, leaning away from you again. You stopped watching him, instead looking over his shoulder and into the street below.

“Actually I-,” he paused, noting your empty glasses. “I’ll grab another round.” He stood abruptly, shadows trailing in his wake as he headed for the door back into the bar. You watched in amusement as the drunk fae inside scrambled out of the path of the hulking Illyrian figure and his teeming shadows. He’d certainly have more success getting to the bar than you did earlier.

He returned quickly, shadows brushed against you as he laid the fresh drinks on the table and took his seat again. He gulped down his drink, setting his empty glass down before you’d even clutched at the stem of your own.

“I need a favour.” His face was serious, barely visible through the throng of shadows caressing his form, roiling up his shoulders and coiling like a second set of Illyrian tattoos on the skin of his neck.

“A favour?” You tried to keep the shock from your voice, it was very uncharacteristic of Azriel to ask for anything so openly. “Name it.” He pursed his lips, shaking his head. A gloved hand rubbed against his temple.

“You don’t even know what it is.” You leaned forward to snatch at the hand he’d left on the table, squeezing the warm leather underneath your fingers. You were so close that you could see the veins of green that ran through the brown of his eyes.

“Doesn’t matter Az. We’re friends, I’ll always do whatever I can to help you.” He smiled at that, a genuine smile. Something so rare from Azriel that the flash of his teeth in the fae light made your heart clench.

“Come to Solstice with me.” You smiled back at him then, bemused at the request.

“That’s it? Az, you don’t need to call in a favour for me to spend time with you all.”

“It’s not just that,” for a moment he seemed to disappear into the shadows entirely before he reigned in his emotions. “Mor and Emery will be there together, Elain’s bringing Lucian. And of course, there’s the others. I’ll be the only-“ his throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly. But you heard what he didn’t voice.

“You’ll be the only person there alone.” You understood that, not just the desire for companionship but to feel a sense of belonging and acceptance amidst the festivities. You were searching for that too. You knew that attending the holiday celebrations your friends were throwing would leave you feeling alone, in a room full of people who were something more to each other.  

The silence before his answer felt like it would swallow you.

“Yes.” His eyes met yours. Under his gaze you’d always felt like he saw through every façade you hid behind. Like he could see into the darkest parts of you, that he saw them as was your friend anyway. Because you saw them in him too.

“I suppose I’ll have to do more gift shopping then.”

Please let me know what you all think! I'm planning out part two of probably three but I'm not sure exactly how they'll play out until I'm writing them.

[rovasdiary]

Popular Annaka x loner reader? Like they have a secret relationship because of her popular status? Idk if that makes sense lol

decided to make it a oneshot :) enjoy

annaka fourneret x fem!reader . ✧.*

warnings: (internal) homophobia, bullying, fluff, bad writing once again

𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

꩜ school was fake. that was your conclusion three weeks into junior year.

and then there was her.

annaka fourneret. all pink skirts and shimmery lip gloss, always in the middle of the hallway with her flock of designer-wearing besties. she laughed too loud at things that weren’t funny. flipped her hair like she was in a shampoo commercial. she was a walking stereotype.

and you were sleeping with her.

okay—not sleeping sleeping. not just that.

but enough.

enough that it had become a problem.

because annaka had rules. rules that she whispered between kisses in your bedroom with the blinds drawn shut.

no one can know.

you can’t talk to me at school.

you can’t look at me when i’m with the girls.

and the worst one: this doesn’t mean anything, right?

and you’d just shrugged, because what the hell else were you supposed to say? “actually, i think about you every night and it makes me physically ill that you won’t even glance in my direction during lunch”? yeah, no. hard pass.

so you played your part. the mysterious loner with the permanent scowl and ripped hoodie sleeves. you kept your head down, stayed out of her way, and pretended like you didn’t know what lip gloss she was wearing based on the taste.

and yet… she still found you.

every friday night, without fail, a soft knock on your window at 11:43 pm. always the same time. always her.

and you always let her in.

“you’re mean,” she mumbled against your neck one night, voice soft and sleepy, mascara staining your pillow.

you snorted. “you’re fake.”

she laughed—this small, breathy thing—and curled tighter into your side.

you didn’t ask her to stay. she never did. she always left before the sun came up, lipstick smeared, excuses rehearsed.

and still… you waited for her every friday. like clockwork.

things changed the day someone saw.

you were in the library. your usual corner. hoodie up, headphones in, pretending to do homework. she slid into the seat across from you like she hadn’t spent all morning with her arm around some guy who definitely didn’t know her favorite show was gilmore girls.

“hi,” she whispered, all soft and secret.

you raised a brow. “you get lost, princess?”

she rolled her eyes, but her smile was real.

“i missed you.”

you blinked.

she never said that. not even once.

you almost smiled—almost—when a throat cleared next to you.

alyssa. queen bee of the mean girls. armed with a starbucks drink and enough venom to kill a room.

“annaka,” she said slowly, narrowing her eyes. “what are you doing over here?”

annaka froze.

you watched her change. right in front of you. shoulders up, voice higher, smile faker.

“oh, i was just—i dropped my pen earlier and, like, i thought i saw it over here, haha,” she said too fast, eyes wide.

alyssa didn’t buy it. you didn’t either.

“right,” alyssa said, cold and flat. “let’s go.”

annaka hesitated. for a second. just one.

then she stood.

you didn’t say anything. didn’t look at her. just stared at the book you weren’t reading and pretended like you didn’t feel like throwing something.

you didn’t answer her texts that night.

or the night after.

you told yourself it was fine. you told yourself it didn’t matter.

but you were a shit liar.

especially to yourself.

friday night. 11:43 pm.

the knock came anyway.

you stared at the window, jaw clenched, pulse racing.

you opened it.

she looked like hell.

“i’m sorry,” she said immediately. no jokes. no smirk. just wide eyes and shaky breath.

you crossed your arms. “for what?”

“don’t,” she whispered. “don’t do that thing where you act like you don’t care.”

you said nothing.

she climbed in anyway. stood in the middle of your room like she didn’t belong. maybe she didn’t. maybe you didn’t either.

“i panicked,” she said. “i was scared.”

“of what?” you asked. “alyssa? the girls?”

“of everyone,” she said. “of me. of how i feel.”

that made you stop.

she looked at you like she wanted to cry. or scream. or both.

“you’re not just some… secret,” she said, voice cracking. “you’re the only person who actually sees me. and that scares the shit out of me.”

you stared at her.

and then, because you were weak and stupid and already in too deep, you reached for her.

she collapsed into you.

you kissed her. slow. like she was breakable. like this meant something.

because it did.

monday morning. chaos in the halls.

someone posted a photo.

someone saw the two of you.

your hoodie. her lip gloss. your hands in her hair. her mouth on your neck.

blurry. dark. but obvious.

the comments were brutal.

some laughed. some were confused. some were disgusted.

alyssa’s name popped up on the post. wtf? annaka??

by third period, everyone was talking.

you sat in the back of class, phone buzzing nonstop, eyes fixed on the desk.

she didn’t show up.

you didn’t see her until lunch.

she stood in the middle of the quad, surrounded by her friends. or former friends. it was hard to tell.

alyssa was yelling. loud. nasty. dramatic.

annaka just stood there, eyes glassy.

you walked right past them.

you didn’t stop.

you didn’t want to make it worse.

but then—

“hey freak!” alyssa’s voice rang out.

you turned.

“you think you’re good enough for her?” she sneered. “she’s just slumming it with you. it’s pathetic.”

you didn’t flinch. didn’t blink. just stared.

“you’re a sad little girl with no friends and no life,” alyssa kept going. “you’re nothing.”

and before you could say a word—

annaka snapped.

“shut up,” she said. loud. clear. voice shaking but steady.

alyssa blinked. “excuse me?”

“i said shut up,” annaka repeated. “you don’t get to talk about her like that. you don’t get to talk about us like that.”

alyssa laughed. “us? oh my god. us?”

“yeah,” annaka said. “us.”

and then she walked. straight to you.

eyes locked. hands shaking.

“i’m scared,” she whispered.

you nodded. “me too.”

then she grabbed your hand.

and didn’t let go.

things didn’t magically get better. the whispers didn’t stop. people stared. alyssa blocked her on everything.

but annaka smiled more now.

she wore your hoodie in public.

you held hands at lunch.

she kissed your cheek in the hallway once and nearly tripped from how flustered she got after.

and you… you didn’t feel so angry all the time.

it still sucked, sometimes.

but at least it sucked together.

one night, lying on your bed, her legs tangled in yours, she looked up at you.

“you know you’re my favorite person, right?”

you smirked. “obviously.”

she rolled her eyes, giggling. “shut up.”

you pulled her closer. “you’re mine too.”

she grinned.

then kissed you like you were the only real thing in a fake world.

maybe you were.

maybe you both were.

and for once, neither of you had to pretend anymore.

divider by strangergraphics!

rova’s notes ౨ৎ

i hope you liked it!!! i literally worked a nine hour shift yesterday it was insane ANYWAYS hi poppyyyyy as always

[moviestarmartini]

Babygirl... we NEEEED brahim x reader where brahim is all soft and subby and begging for it. Pls pls.

hit the switch. — brahim díaz x reader

summary: away at a family reunion for some time now, brahim gets desperate at the drought you've put him through.

wc: 1.8k

warnings: established relationship, nsfw (18+ DUHHH), sub!brahim, slightly mean dom!reader, kitchen sex, p in v, barely any foreplay aside from making out (don't let men do this to you y'all), fluffy ending as always.

A/N: i think i got this request abt a week ago and got STRAIGHT to writing thank u sm for this anon. hope you like it !!

now playing. . . comerte entera by c. tangana

Brahim had been following you around like a lost puppy for the last few hours. Your family loved him dearly; he was a gentleman, so the invitation to the yearly family reunion was imminent. But the questions and catching up could get overwhelming after some time. The adults were outside drinking and arguing about politics, while the ‘children’— cousins and siblings, all grown adults with children of their own, even— sat in the studio catching up. The booze was flowing, everyone was positively buzzed, excluding you and Brahim. He didn’t drink to maintain his diet, and you only followed in partial solidarity, only drinking a glass of wine during dinner.

After the fifth embarrassing story of your childhood you sighed, rolling your eyes, “I’ll go get another glass of wine and a bat to shut you guys up!” The room burst with complaints as considering you should transition to harder alcohol and join in the fun. You respectfully declined, getting off your seat… and by seat it was Brahim’s lap.

Brahim watched intently how you walked. The way your hips moved, the curve of your back that traced down to your ass, and he had to stop himself from salivating at the way it naturally bounced with each step you took.

“Now that I’m finally free, I’ll go to the bathroom.” Brahim joked, the room full of drunks howled as he got up. He did go to the guest bathroom, but in no time sauntered by the kitchen, watching you from the door frame. He crossed his arms across his chest, lips parted in amusement. A tiny smile peeked from behind the plush rosy lips as you hummed a song, only noticing he was there once you’d finished serving yourself the red wine.

“What is it?” You knew him like the palm of his hand. He looked at you with hunger, a passive one. He just shook his head, taking slow steps towards you as the kitchen door slammed closed. Brahim wrapped his arms around you, brushing his nose against your cheek before hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“Nothing. You’re just stunning.” He replied, lips ghosting the length of your neck as he pressed slow kisses. The grip around your waist loosened, his hands finding place in your hips as he pulled you closer. He gripped over the fabric of the satin skirt, inhaling your scent. He knew you disliked wearing underwear with that type of fabric, considering it would mark in a way you considered unflattering.

But he kept torturing himself with that information.

“You sure it’s nothing?” You broke the hug, reaching your hand forward and cupping his face. You saw the amusement flash through his eyes, soliciting a smirk to start growing on your face. You read him like an open book. “I told you we have to wait to be back home.” You took a sip of your glass before setting it on the counter, propping yourself on your arms to sit on the marble countertop kitchen island.

Brahim pouted, “Pero mi princesa,” He whined, finding a place between your legs. “I literally saw your cousin hooking up with her high school ex when the party started! They’re all looking to expand the families at the family reunion, why do we need to hold back?” He sounded genuinely frustrated, and for good reason; you would have sex at least thrice a week before coming here. You’d been there for almost a week and there had been barely any action.

You laughed lowly, brushing his hair into place. He looked at you with those shiny brown eyes, knowing he wanted to coerce you. “It’ll be quick,” Brahim appealed for his case, his hands resting on your hips once more. “No te pongas así, mamita. Please”

He watched with panicked eyes as you seemed to really think it through, and all his hopes seemed to be crashing down before you tugged him by his sweater into a kiss. It started out slow, careful. Each time Brahim tried to turn things up an octave, you pressed a warning hand to his chest. He was quick to follow your lead, afraid the disobedience would mean you were going to back down.

His hands pulling you closer, arching your back so your chest would come in contact with his only invited you to turn the kiss sloppy, your tongue sliding into his mouth. The soft whimper he made gave you a smirk mid makeout session, your arms pulled him closer by his neck.

“Please…” He begged once more, his face hidden in the crook of your neck as he deposited slow kisses down its length. “I’ve been good all week. We still have three days left here.” Your head tilting back gave him an open invitation, but you still relented giving a straight answer. You could feel his clothed cock growing hard and pressing against your thigh.

“Let me think…” You teased, though your voice came out more breathy than you would’ve liked. You could feel the pulsing between your legs, that familiar tickle in your lower stomach. “Do you really want it?” Your hand took itself to cup the boner, squeezing it a little only to watch him squirm.

Brahim leaned into the touch, jerking his hips ever so slightly. “I do… Please, please.” His voice dripped of desperation, and you could feel yourself growing hornier. “I need your pussy, joder.” His hand also sneaked under the soft fabric of your skirt, tracing the length of your upper thigh. You peered at the kitchen door; he’d closed it, and it automatically locked. That door had always been faulty, easily becoming stuck. The curtains were drawn earlier that day as you made cookies with your cousins, the decision taken by the bright sun rays becoming annoying for those still carrying a hangover headache.

‘Ah, fuck it.’ You groaned in your head, before taking Brahim into a frenzied kiss. As the oldest woman from your nuclear family, you were bred to be uptight, serious and not prone to having fun. You grew out of that as you moved away, but you encased yourself back into that mold the second you stepped into your childhood home.

“Is that a yes?” Brahim panted as you parted for a second, fluttering his lashes at you. You nodded, and you noticed how he began to pull away. “Where are you going?” Your voice sounded severe enough to give you those big puppy eyes.

“Our… room?” He questioned, returning to your side. Without an explanation, you stuffed your hand inside his pants, right past his underwear. “No more teasing, please. I just want you.” You swore your boyfriend would have melted into a puddle right then and there as you stroked his cock lazily. Brahim held onto the kitchen island with one hand and gripped your ass with the other.

“You said you needed it, didn’t you, pretty boy?” You mocked his tone from earlier, receiving a puckered lip and a frantic nod in return. You cupped his face with your free hand, “The main door is probably stuck, everyone is too drunk to look for us.” You let go of his stiff dick, instead busying yourself with undoing the button and the zipper of his pants, pulling them down enough for his cock to spring up free.

“Fuck me. Right here.” You brushed his nose against his, “Or you’re losing the chance.” It didn’t take long for him to take your lips in yet another heated kiss, this time, he hiked up the flowy skirt to rest above your hips. He dragged you closer, pressing his leaking tip against your core. You moaned, wrapping your legs around his waist before he lined up and pushed his length inside your entrance.

“Thank you, thank you princesa.” He muttered against your neck, taking a few seconds for adjustment before he started thrusting. The romantic slow thrusts didn’t last long, as his fingers grazed up your upper thighs, his thrusts became deep and hard.

Soon, you were letting yourself go, chest flushed as his hands sneaked under your sweater to grope your tits. “Fuck, these are so gorgeous,” He managed to mutter, but he was barely making any sense. You smiled, noticing his labored breathing, his hair sticking to his forehead from the cold sweat.

“What’s wrong, my baby? You look a little red,” You still teased between your own moans, “Answer me,” Your coo with full of demand, watching as he struggled with his words. So pussydrunk he barely made any sense, even when you dictated he do so.

“It just feels so good.” He cried out, pulling you even closer. He stopped for a second to throw one of your legs over his shoulders, and you were suddenly the one speechless. The tip of his cock kept repeatedly hitting that sweet spot, coercing sounds you had to muffle with your own hand. You didn’t know how much you needed this too, feeling your arousal drip down to the countertop.

“Don’t cum,” You commanded, noticing how he had to hide his face in your calf to avoid making too much noise. The way his rhythm was thrown off gave away his intentions, and your denial made him pause. “I didn’t tell you to stop, didn’t I?”

Brahim nodded, taking a deep breath in. As he resumed what you considered to be a brutal pace, you felt your own body about to be pushed over the brink. “Fuck, cum— cum with me.” You moaned out, covering your mouth as your released washed over you, his own filling you up to the brim once your pulsating walls milked everything he had left.

“C’mere.” You reached out for him once he pulled out, both legs sitting on the counter once again. “I’m sorry for keeping you waiting for so long, okay? You know they shove a stick up my ass every time I come here.” You brushed his hair back gently, staring into his soft brown eyes. “You did amazing.”

“Hm yeah?” Brahim purred, leaning into your touch. “You? Not so much. We’ll see how we handle it next time.” His voice was low, with the same tone you carried earlier. It sent a shiver of expectation down your spine.

“Can’t wait.” You winked, giving him one final peck. “Hold on— how are we going to get out of here?”

“Is the door actually locked?” The reality dawned on Brahim at the same time someone knocked on the door. “I thought you were just trying to convince me.”

“Oi! Why did you get locked in there with all the booze?!” One of your brothers asked, trying to pry the door open. You laughed, hiding your face in the crook of Brahim’s neck before you pulled yourselves together, only to find out the door was really stuck.

“Perfect opportunity for another round.” Brahim hugged you from behind, pressing a kiss to your neck. Only to receive an elbow to his ribs, followed by the melodic sound of your laughter.

Oh, how much he loved you.

[phantomdreamgirl]

You're Only Lonely

I needed to write for this man, so this is part one of what's going to be just a two parter, as of now 🙃

Baron's been driving non-stop for days.

The floor of his newest car is covered in various Moon Pie and fast food wrappers. His hand brushes an empty soda cup as he reaches for the map that had fallen off the passenger seat.

He slowly pulls off the highway, putting the car in park as he drapes the map over the steering wheel. His finger traces along the tattered paper, mentally mapping out all the little side roads that branch off the main one.

He decides on the one that seems the most promising then folds the map the best he can, before tossing it back towards the passenger seat.

In his periphery, he catches his reflection in the rearview mirror and almost doesn't recognize himself. His shorter hair, though now necessary, was going to take some getting used to. After spending so much time as one version of 'Baron,' he wonders what the newest version should be like, sound like, etc. He still has time to figure it out, as it's still quite a drive to the next town.

After putting the car in gear, it's engine roars to life as he speeds off down the worn asphalt.

He rolls into town during the hottest part of the day. Sweat forms on his brow before he quickly wipes it away with the back of his hand. He has both windows rolled down, in an effort to create better air flow, since this car didn't have working A/C.

The lack of a breeze makes the heat almost unbearable as he slowly cruises down what passes for this town's 'Main Street.'

He thinks how he'd do anything for a vanilla ice cream cone when he looks up to see a weathered sign for an ice cream shop, at the end of the street. He says a silent prayer as he parks in front of it. With a boyish smile, he hops out of the car and excitedly goes inside.

He emerges soon after, with prized vanilla cone in hand. He then decides to walk around for a little while, and see what his new home has to offer. He tries, in vain, to eat his ice cream before it melts all over his hand and the cracked sidewalk below.

It's then he notices a storefront with the words 'Antiques and More' printed on the glass. He stops and gawks at the mannequin in the window. It's wearing a tight, leopard print dress, and he's instantly infatuated.

He enters the store, and immediately goes over to where it's displayed. He's able to size it up better now that he's closer and thinks it could possibly fit him. He's too lost in admiration to notice someone walking up behind him.

"Sorry, but you can't have that in here," a voice says, pulling him out of his daydream.

"What?" Baron asks, turning slightly to see you standing there, looking slightly annoyed.

"The ice cream. It's melting all over the floor. Didn't you see the sign?" You continue, pointing to the hand written 'No Food or Drink' sign that was taped to the door.

"Oh, no I didnt," he replies, flustered. "I'm sorry, I'll... be right back."

He quickly exits the store and disposes the sticky cone in a nearby trash can. You watch his hurried actions with a bemused expression. He returns, wiping the excess ice cream on his jeans, while sporting an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, I guess I was too distracted," he laughs.

"Obviously," you reply, also with a laugh. "Though, I totally get it," you begin, taking a step closer to the window display. "This dress is my favorite one in the store."

He follows, watching with rapt attention as you glide your fingertips along it's hemline.

"From what I could tell from the label, and my thorough, yet limited research is that it's from the fifties," you inform, turning your head so your eyes meet his.

The sudden intensity of his gaze has you looking away.

"Its pretty amazing that it's still in such great shape," you continue, with a wistful smile. "Its, like, comforting to see how certain things stand the test of time, you know?"

You glance at him again and he nods. It's then you notice how his damp, white t-shirt clings to his chest and you have to look away again.

He tries to keep from grinning at the faint hint of blush on your cheeks.

"Anyway, um, I feel like I've taken up too much of your time, so I'll let you have a look around," you announce, with a polite smile, taking a step back.

"Its okay, I don't mind," he smiles, in return. "It's been too long since I've really talked to someone, so this is nice."

You allow yourself to gaze into his soft, hazel eyes and almost melt from how he's looking at you.

"Plus, there's so much stuff in here that I'll probably get overwhelmed, so you might need to show me around," he says, strolling past you before turning on his heel, to face you again, making you giggle.

"I think that's the least I can do, since you're my first and only customer I've had all day," you reply, still with a smile.

"I guess its my lucky day, then," he grins.

You spend the next hour or so guiding him around the store, showing him your favorite pieces. He seems genuinely enthralled with everything you say, a smile still present on his lips, as you ramble on about the history of certain items.

As he follows you towards the back of the store, he notices a rack of more presumably vintage dresses, off to the side.

You also notice how his eyes linger on them, which prompts you to ask, "Why were so you interested in that dress in the window? If you don't mind me asking..."

"It, uh, reminds me of someone," he answers.

You nod, and he immediately senses what you really want to know.

"I don't have a girlfriend, if that's what you're wondering," he adds, as you both reach the back corner of the store.

You try to hide your relieved smile when you turn to face him.

"Why would I be wondering about that when I don't even know your name?" You ask, gazing at him innocently.

He moves closer to you, making you step back. Your lower back presses against the rough, wooden edge of cabinet displaying old NASCAR memorabilia. His eyes never leave yours as he braces his hands on either side of you.

He leans in, his sticky sweet breath on your lips as he counters, "Why don't you tell me yours first?"

Normally, you would never let yourself be lured into a situation like this, but this guy was, quite possibly, the most gorgeous man you'd ever seen. His alluring nature is impossible to resist.

Your name tumbles from your lips, earning another smile from him.

"Its pretty, just like you," he laments, as the tip of his nose brushes yours.

Your hands grip the wood at your sides, with your nails digging into it, as you desperately want to wrap your arms around him.

He teases your waiting lips with his, as he debates whether or not he wants to tell you his real name or another made-up one.

He brings his hand up to your cheek, his thumb lightly caressing your skin, as he whispers, "I'm whoever you want me to be."

[meet-you-at-the-north-star]

Lucky in love

Robert Leckie x Australian barista! Reader

Summary: part of a larger enemies-to-lover(ish) narrative I have in mind where the reader is a waitress in Melbourne and her and Leckie slowly develop a relationship while he’s stationed there. But since I’m incapable of writing multi-chapter stories, this is just a little snippet lol

Word count: 967

It had been a long Saturday night at work. On weekends, the place was even fuller than during the rest of the week and I was barely able to take any rest between one set of clients and another. There was always something to do.

Worst of all, as usual, was the Americans. They had been coming in every single evening for several weeks now, a small group of them, always occupying the same exact table, around a corner of the bar that I’d begun to dread turning.

They were pretty loud, careless and obnoxious but their mere presence caused more trouble than anything else. What’s with all the annoying attention they received, for opposite reasons, from both the male and female population of Melbourne.

Some of them would take advantage of their uniforms, dancing and hitting on as many girls a night as they could. Others would simply sit and drink and talk to the locals or among themselves, growing louder and louder by the minute. They had been coming so often I’d learned all their names and faces at this point.

One of our usual guests stood out to me more than any other, and not in a good way. The only way to describe him was as someone annoyingly in love with the sound of their own voice: he wouldn’t shut up for a minute, whether it was to impress his own friends with his “superior” culture and refined way of speaking or, more often, a different naive young girl every single night.

His name was Leckie, although most of the times I heard the boys called him Lucky. Once he’d had a few drinks, he became even more insufferable and trips to their table less pleasant. It was exactly the case that night.

Fortunately for me, I’d been too busy with other tables and managed to avoid the marines one for the last 45 minutes, which made the scene I was about to witness all the more surprising.

The next time I got to his table, the blonde girl Leckie had been trying to charm, as well as all of his friends apparently, had left. For the first time ever he sat there alone, playing with the glass in front of him, almost absent-mindedly, lost in thought. His expression was incredibly sad.

I don't know what came over me at that moment when I decided to take a seat in the chair in front of him, placing the tray on the table. “Didn't work out?” I asked gently, surprising even myself in the process.

The only words I’d ever spoken to him before that were snarky, sarcastic retorts whenever he made a pass on me.

“Not exactly” He tilted his head slightly with a sad smile and a shrug of his shoulders. “Have you come to do some gloating?”

“What, a girl can't do anything nice around here?” I rolled my eyes, making him chuckle despite himself.

“Well, that's certainly nice of you” he raised his glass in my direction and drank the remaining sip of beer in one go.

I looked at him curiously. This was certainly a side of him I had never seen. The cocky playboy attitude all but gone, making me doubt it was ever there in the first place.

“Why do you do that?” I hesitated before adding “that's not really you, right?”

He perfectly understood what I meant without me having to explain.

“Being in the army is different than anything else I've ever experienced. You find yourself part of a new family, forced to play a new role and it almost feels like you can start anew.”

There was weight to every word that came out of his mouth now, each of them carefully measured.

“And I guess I just wanted to…try and be someone else for a little while” He finished with that sad crooked smile again.

I fell silent, taken aback by the unexpected display of vulnerability. Then with some trepidation I approached and placed my hand on his own that was resting on the table, near the glass. “You know, I can’t believe I’m saying this but it turns out that your actual self is not half bad, Robert Leckie”

He looked up at me, both of his eyebrows raised. His deep blue eyes sparkled from the glow of alcohol, but they were sharp as always. “You know my name?”

I scoffed. “Not willingly, but yes”

“If only I'd known that all I had to do to get your attention was to be myself, it would have saved me a lot of trouble.” He gave me a quick sideway glance, then looked down. “Unfortunately, it usually works the opposite way.”

I laughed, immediately dismissing his words in my mind as nothing but a joke. “You're definitely drunk”

“Not that drunk” He smirked and I finally recognized the cheekiness I'd gotten so used to over the past few weeks.

“You were doing so well, Yank” I sighed. “Don't ruin it now”

“I never did learn how to quit while you're ahead…” He teased.

“Well, for your own sake, you better start learning” I shot back.

With that I stood up, collecting all the empty glasses that were left on the table and placing them on the tray that I had abandoned earlier.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

“Y/N”

“Can I see you again, Y/N?” The question stopped me right before I could walk away and made me turn around.

“Of course you can see me again, you've been coming to my bar every single night”

He shot me an eloquent look, but I could see he was nervous. “That's not what I'm asking”

I allowed myself to let out a smile: “Maybe, if you’re lucky”

His smile grew into a big grin. “I’m always lucky”

[hausofmamadas]

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies

Part 2

⁂

Pairing: Danny Lyon x Kathy Cross

Word count: ≈ 4K

TWs: Allusions to infidelity, love triangles, flirting, angst. (ꔘ) indicates this comes directly from dialogue in the movie.

But whatever it is, it feels important. Like you’d regret it slipping through your fingers. So important, you don’t wanna blink. Cause when you open your eyes again it’ll be gone. Picking up right after part one (read -> here to catch up), at the bar the same night, Danny loses focus on the meeting when he gets a surprise visit from Kathy.

⁂ The ash on his joint’s nearly a half inch long when Cal’s hand waves in front of Danny’s face, knocking it off to scatter onto the barroom floor.

“Earth to Danny, come in Danny.”

“What? Oh, sorry.”

Not only has Danny barely taken a puff of his joint but Frankie was long gone, replaced in front of him now by Cal who’s made his way over from the pool tables to ask for a drag, a request to which Danny has been apparently nonverbal. Yup, too lost in the soup upstairs and now he’s second-guessing this joint he hasn’t even really smoked. Maybe he is more toasted than he thought.

“Need me to take that bud off your hands, bud?” An impeccably-timed Cal speaks to these fears. “Looks like you might’ve had one too many.”

Handing the joint over to Cal gladly, Danny cracks a smile, a real one, “Sure thing, gramps,” because for all his oddities Cal’s the only one of them that feels real and not like a character in a dream he can never fully remember. Besides Kath. “Say, remind me again, what time’s curfew? Don’t wanna be late for supper after all.”

“Well, now,” Cal tips a hat that’s not there, affecting the voice of an old southern grandpaw, “I’d certainly say by sundown, sonny.”

“The fuck’re you two doofs on about?” Brucie, characteristically cranky, looks up from his newspaper, face all pinched like he’s not here for their shenanigans. Which is funny considering the general company he keeps. If shenanigans were an occupation, every one of them including Danny would be bonafide professionals.

Cal leans over to pat him on the shoulder, “Now, now, Brucie, this is a family matter,” before taking his seat at one of the tables.

“Just my fuckin luck.” Brucie rolls his eyes like it’s just Cal being Cal, which it is, “Coupla comedians over here,” and tosses his newspaper on the bar before swiveling his stool around to address the group assembled at the tables. “Alright, alright, ladies. Pipe down, meetin’ll start in about five minutes.”

Danny snags a few crowd photos while everyone’s distracted. These usually turn out to be his favorite, catching people when they think no one’s looking because usually no one is. Scanning the room for another shot, Danny can’t help but shake his head at all the non club-affiliated patrons packed at the front of the bar by the pool tables because he’s yet to figure out why some of the meetings are conducted during business hours. This is made even more baffling given some of their other meetings were held off-hours when the Stoplight was closed and there was less noise. So it seemed no one was opposed to the idea. Why not just have them all then?

Danny grabs his pencil from where it perpetually sits behind his ear and a little notepad from his vest pocket, jotting down to ask Brucie or Kathy, the two most likely to give him a reliable answer, about it later.

“S’at my name I see you writin there? What could you be writin about silly ‘ole me, I wonder?”

“Oh shi– uh, he– hiya, Kath,” Danny jumps right out his shoes, practically three feet in the air, his voice almost as high. “I, uh, didn’t think you’d be comin tonight.”

“Yeah, well my car’s busted, so’s I had to get Benny to pick me up from work and he said he could only do it if we stopped here first ‘fore goin home.”

Danny offers his sincerest condolences with a nod and shrug.

“Boy, I am glad yer here though, I’m tellin ya,” she says, grabbing a piece of gum from her purse and popping it in her mouth. “Nice to have someone’a talk to ‘sides just dese wahoos.”

“Oh yeah? Well, uh,” searching the congregation through the cigarette smoke that’s filling the fiberglass shields around the fluorescents so it looks like everyone’s moving in a tank of dusty water, Danny spots a sleek crop of honey blonde hair seated up front and off to the side, “what about Benny?”

She waves her hand. “Please. You know better ‘an anybody, dat boy don’t talk. And I love him to death but he’s a wahoo, same’s any of ‘em. But hey, who says you can’t love a wahoo.”

“Not me,” Danny agrees, smirking privately to himself, as was the custom these days any time he talked to Kathy about well, pretty much anything. Given so many opportunities to practice, he’s become well-versed in trying not to look like he’s enjoying himself as much as he is. See, it’d be a problem if it was a problem. But it’s not. Not at all.

Bringing his camera up to snap a picture of the group gathered around Johnny, he can’t help but chuckle at how it looks like a scattered Sunday night mass if mass was held in the smokestack of a hay bale on fire. A hay bale with billiard tables and a jukebox.

Kathy leans over wanting in on the joke, “What’s so funny over dere?”

“Ah, it’s noth– it’s ju– well, it’s hard to explain.”

“Sheesh.” She shoots him a look that would’ve been withering were it not for the smile on her lips and in her eyes. “You been hangin ‘round Benny too much. I swear one’a these days, you’ll go quiet on me yet.”

“C’mon, you know I’d never,” Danny says, smiling so much he’s struggling to line his eye back up with the viewfinder.

“Oh, does’at mean you’re like me, then, huh? Not enough, whats’a word–” She snaps her fingers in an attempt to summon it, which she does. “Discipline. Not enough discipline to be dat stoic.”

“It’s not that so much as,” he flashes a cheeky grin, “I’m just not cut out for that kinda commitment.”

“Y’know,” Kathy crosses her arms, shakes her head, and just to have something to do, starts kicking the leg of the unoccupied barstool in front of her. “I used to think you Brooklyn boys were aaall trouble. Just– y’know, on account of all’sa movies I seen, right. Buncha meatheads, mobsters, criminals n’ such. But you Danny Lyon, you’re just a doll, aren’t ya?”

“Am I?” The blood’s warming his cheeks already and he falls back on some well-worn sarcasm to save face. “Well, don’t go blowin my cover or these guys’ll boot me out on the street and I’ll have nothing to show for the last six months.”

Smiling, she drags her thumb and her forefinger across her lips, locks and throws away the key.

Danny turns his attention back to the meeting that’s started, trying to make like he’s been industriously picking out shots and listening. Not that it mattered if he wasn’t. His club membership was little more than ceremonial, a kid’s costume. Sure, he had colors now and his own bike, a junker Cal chopped together because he got sick of Danny piggy backing on his all the time. He joked about it when he gifted it to Danny. Much as it’s been a treat chauffeurin you around, if we do it much longer people’ll start to think we’re going steady. Now, I’m all for broadening your horizons but I’d hate to be the one to compromise your journalistic integrity, y’know, being with a respectable lady like myself.

But neither of those things made him integral to the day-to-day goings on of the club. Although tonight they’re talking about whether to approve the formation of a St. Louis chapter, so it’s more than the usual shop talk, even if the answer is a likely yes since Johnny’d already given the go-ahead to Milwaukee last year. Kathy had told him a guy named Fat Jack, or Big Jack, or Big Fat Jack(ꔘ) had to battle it out with Johnny for that one. Whether that’d be the price of admission for St. Louis remained to be seen.

“Say, I gotta question.” Kathy makes a move to claim Danny’s undivided attention again, the subject of an apparent tug-of-war between herself and the club. “I been wonderin, how d’you know when to take the picture?”

She’s yet to win that war on the Benny front but she’s well ahead on this one, what with Danny all-too-happily taking the bait. “Hm? What d’you mean?”

“Y’know like how d’ya know what’s gonna make a good photo? And do they all come out lookin how they look when you’re peekin,” Kathy points her index finger, retracting and extending it a few times at the viewfinder, “through that thing, er what?”

The camera in his hands comes down slow with the steadiness of an elevator dropping from floor to floor and he fidgets with the camera strap like he’s uncomfortable with the question. He might be. There’s something intimate about it. What’s more though is he doesn’t have a great answer. There’s no easy way to summarize what he’s devoted the last seven-some-odd years perfecting. The even more embarrassing part is that he’s never really given it a lot of thought. Not conscious thought, at least. He just sorta knows. But that seems like a cop out somehow and he doesn’t want to give her that kind of answer. Because nothing’s worse than questions met with answers that don’t really answer anything at all.

“Heck, I didn’t expect that to be such a stumper.”

“Oh–?” Danny snaps to, summoning a gentle smile to reassure her the dead air response isn’t because he’s bent out of shape about it. “Oh, no. I don’t– I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to– it’s just, to tell you the truth, it’s not something I think about.”

“Well now,” she elbows him lightly, “I find that hard to believe.”

“I guess– well, do you mean in a technical sense, as in how do I frame a shot? Or how do I find something I wanna take a picture of in the first place?”

“Mmm, the second one,” Kathy chuckles. “I think.”

Thumbing the advance lever, Danny’s gaze is now stuck on all the club members seated in front of them, “Hmm, well–” trying to find a way to break down what’s been, for all these years, as good as muscle memory. “I guess it’s a gut feeling more than anything. Like if you’ve ever been in the middle of somethin– the thick of a scene, and then stopped a second to look around, right?”

Eyes narrowed like she’s thinking intently on what he’s saying, Kathy bobs her head up and down.

“And something about it– doesn’t even have to be anything grand, y’know. Might just be, you like the lighting. Or the gestures people are makin, having a conversation. Or the look on someone’s face when they’re concentratin on something. But whatever it is, it feels important. Like you’d regret it slipping through your fingers. So important, you don’t wanna blink. Cause when you open your eyes again it’ll be gone. Not gone gone, y’know, just arranged a little different than it was, right. Cause the moment’s different. And you wish you could sustain it somehow, bottle it like a ship so you can see it any time you want. What it feels, looks like, sounds like. I guess– well yeah, anyway.” Danny’s voice drifts off with the smoke and the bar chatter and the music from the jukebox. “When I get to feelin like that, that’s how I know.”

“Wow.” The word tumbles out slow and for a second, it rings out like she’s the only person speaking in the whole bar before getting swallowed back up in the cacophony. “Seems like a lot for somethin you claim ya never thought about.”

Danny’s mouth twists off to the side in a self-effacing smirk and he hangs his head, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well alright then, Mr. Poet, so what’s so special ‘bout all’a this,” Kathy sidles up closer to him, gesturing in front of them, hand limp at the end of her wrist like she can’t be bothered. “What could be so important here?”

Head swiveling from Kathy, to the meeting, then back to Kathy, Danny gets an idea. He ducks, lifting the camera strap over his neck and hands it to her. She meets this with a blank look like he’s just presented her a dead fish.

“C’mon, set your bag down,” Danny laughs. “I’ll show ya.”

There’s a reserved smile as she uncrosses her arms, slides her purse off her shoulder, flopping it on the table next to them, and holds her hands out to accept the camera with some hesitation. “How’m I gonna know if I’m holdin it right? I don’t wanna drop it. Then you’ll really have a reason to not talk to me.”

“Well, you’re in luck cause,” Danny holds the strap open like he’s awarding her an Olympic medal, “that’s what this is for.”

She grabs the camera to keep it from swinging too much as he guides the strap over her head and lays it gently around her neck. “Gosh, this is heavier’n it looks.” Once it’s on, she starts pulling her hair out from underneath it.

Danny shrugs, “Guess I’m used to it,” helping to smooth the collar of her denim jacket that’s gotten flipped up, thanks to the weight of the camera. Then he turns back to the group, waving her over to stand in front of him. “Alright, so what feels important about this. Or I dunno, what I like, I guess, is–”

Kathy keeps glancing back at him over her shoulder as she steps in front, hanging on every word like she might miss something crucial.

“–is the lighting here.” From behind her, Danny gestures at the camera. “Go ahead, take a look. See how smoky this part of the bar is, how it’s accumulating under the hoods of the fixtures, reflectin the light? But then all the space in between is real dark, right. S’cool, I was thinkin it looked like a buncha little lightning storms over everyone’s heads.”

“Oh yeah,” he can hear the smile in her voice, “lookit that. Could be like lil’ lighthouses, them.”

“Go ahead, take a couple.”

“What, me?” She’s incredulous and he could kick and drag himself across the pavement on the street right outside for thinking it’s as adorable as it is. “Didn’t you just take some?”

“Sure, but people have shifted around in their chairs, the smoke’s hangin a little differently now. Could be your shot’s better than mine. Go for it.”

“Huh, alright. So what do I do. Press this here, den?” Her finger taps the shutter button.

“Yup, press that and then–“ he reaches over her shoulder to place her thumb on the advance lever, “pull this. Yeah, press, then pull. Just like that.”

Stifling a giggle of pure joy so as not to disrupt the meeting, she nabs a few photos, “Say, this is a gas. I see why you wanna do this all’a time,” before breaking away to note with some skepticism, “the chattin, though. Y’know, with the microphone an’ tape deck ya cart around practically half yer size. That, not so much.”

“Really?” Danny says, sticking his hands in the pockets of his vest because without a camera, he doesn’t really know what to do with them. “See, I would’ve thought that’d be your favorite part.”

“Oh? Why’s dat?”

“Cause you sure like talkin.”

Conceding with a wry smile to cushion the blow of the accompanying eyeroll, she turns back to snap a couple more.

At the front of the assembly Benny tips his chair to lean on the back legs, his head hanging over the top rail, cigarette dangling from his mouth, looking bored yet untroubled in his boredom, when he spots Kathy with the camera.

“Please tell me you’re gonna get–”

A click sound answers Danny’s question before he can finish asking as Kathy pulls the lever to take another one. “Aaaaalready on it, Mr. Lyon. Dontcha worry.”

There’s no possible way he can hear them over the noise, but Benny, in a stroke of luck or genius or divine intervention, winks at Kath, baiting her to take another one because he knows it’ll make for a better shot. This time Danny doesn’t even have to open his mouth because Kathy’s finger beats him to the punch. Click.

“See. Told ya, yours could turn out better than mine.”

Kathy turns back around, face lit with a smile so bright, one he’s not sure he’s seen since in months, not since their first interview at the laundromat. “Boy, you weren’t kiddin none, I’ll tell ya,” she says, pulling the strap over her head to return the camera tentatively like she might be sad to part with it. “Hey, maybe one’a these days I’ll have yer job, huh?”

“Look at you,” Danny accepts the camera, as she passes it back with one hand and smoothes her hair with the other, “masterminding my retirement. If I were any wiser, I might think you were tryin to get rid of me. And after all that back-n-forth about me not talkin to ya.”

Her eyes get real wide. “Oh, I don’t think so, mister.” Even as she’s laughing while she says it, she’s also gripping Danny’s arm, holding him in place before he might get the chance to dissolve before her, float right up to the ceiling fans, and diffuse into the air completely. “I take it back, ya hear me, I take it back!”

But he’s got her on the hook now, “You sure?” so he keeps going, “I mean, I know where the door is, I can always just–” skipping his index and middle fingers to the front of the bar, a sneak preview of his supposed exit.

“So help me,” hand on her hip, Kathy wags her finger at him, eyebrows halfway up her forehead, “Dann– Daniel Llll-Louis Lyon, if you go anywhere–”

“Louis??” Danny starts cracking up so hard, he nearly drops the camera. “Who’s Louis?? That’s not even my middle name!”

She smiles, all cat that caught the canary. “Oh, I know. But it sounds scarier, don’t it? Y’know put the fear’a God in ya. An’ all that.”

Still laughing, “Sure,” Danny mimes the sign of the cross, shoulders shaking on every beat of Father, Son, Holy Ghost. “Put the fear of I-don’t-know-what, anyway.”

The sound of chair legs screeching across the checkered tile floor marks the end of the meeting and Danny hasn’t been paying a lick of attention. He'll have to ask Cal about the club’s verdict on St. Louis later, or else eavesdrop on Brucie and Johnny in one of their many little barside confabs of mumbles and grumbles. When Benny starts making his way back to them slowly, taking his time as he stops to shake a couple guys’ hands, loans a cigarette to another who’d run out, Danny starts to sweat, suddenly all too aware that Kathy’s hand has slid down his forearm and is holding his wrist now.

“Heya, Kath?”

“Huh?” she says, absently, smiling at Benny from across the room.

“You uh– you out to take hostages, here? Or—?”

“What’s ‘at, now?”

Danny gestures at his wrist with an index finger.

“Oh lord, I’m sorry.” She shakes her head and drops her hand, taking a step back toward the table where she’d set down her purse. “Silly me.”

His eyes dart over to Benny to see if he’d noticed the exchange but he’s too busy dodging a conversational trap with Cockroach, gearing up, no doubt, to regale him with some loony story. Probably waxing poetic about bugs. The tension in Danny’s shoulders melts away as he sighs pure relief. By the time Benny makes it over to them, Kathy’s got her purse back on her shoulder and her hands in her pockets like she and Danny are less than strangers, just making small talk.

A tender kiss lands on her cheek as Benny slings an arm over her shoulder. “So? The kid’s teachin’ camera classes now?”

It should bother Danny, Benny calling him ‘kid’ given the two of them are pretty close in age. But for some reason, coming from Benny he doesn’t mind. “Wasn’t much teachin to speak of. You won’t believe the coupla ace photos she took.”

Benny’s brows scrunch together like he’s already forgotten his own role in staging the perfect shot.

“Yeah, she’s regular Cam-Jam over here. Caught two of you when you were leaning back in the chair. I’d put money on ‘em bein the best of this roll.”

“Beg yer parden? Cam-Jam? Don’t go pokin fun at me just cause yer envious’a my natural talent.”

Danny laughs. “Nonono, it’s a compliment. Means you’re jammy with the camera. I used to get called it back in college. It’s kinda like, uh— what d’ya call— beginner’s luck. Only your luck don’t run out.”

“Hear that, babe.” Benny kisses Kathy on the nose and she giggles, playfully swatting him away, an exchange so tender and sweet it actually smarts. “Think he’s sayin you got ‘the eye.’”

“Yeah.” Danny lights up with recognition. “Exactly right.”

“Ah, so yer sayin I gotta future in this business of yers. Well okay, whats’a next lesson, Mr. Poet-Professor-Danny?”

“Hmm. I’ll have to go over the curriculum and get back to ya on that.”

Fishing around for a cigarette in his jacket pocket, Benny’s got that far away look in his eye like they’ve already lost him. Which makes it all the more surprising when he opts to prolong the conversation by asking Danny, “So, St. Louis?”

“Uh, yeah.” Having found the cigarette but looking lost for his lighter, Danny flicks his own out to light Benny’s smoke, remarking cautiously, “So Johnny’s gonna do like they did with Milwaukee.”

It’s statement enough to sound like an answer to the question but question enough that Benny still has to confirm. Danny wouldn’t have to ask Cal what happened in the meeting after all.

“Mm-hm. Probly go the same way but–” Benny looks over, blowing a funnel of smoke in the direction of Johnny. “They got heart to show first. So, you in?”

“Goin down this weekend?”

Benny nods.

“Mm, guess it depends.”

“What,” arm still over her shoulder, Benny uses it to give Kathy a little jostle, “need Ms. Cam-Jam to help with your book report?”

“Nah, it’s more, I was actually wonderin—”

Brows scrunched again, the closest Benny ever comes to looking confused is just Marlon Brando.

“—how likely you are to put your fist through another car window,” Danny says, grinning.

Rolling her eyes, Kathy pops the gum in her mouth with manifest disapproval.

“Mm,” Benny appraises the odds, ignoring all five-feet, four-inches of reproach brewing right next to him, “likely as any other day.”

“In that case, ‘course I’m in.”

“Oh not you too, Danny.” Kathy smacks him in the shoulder before crossing her arms. “You know he don’t need any more encouragement, getting inna trouble. I thought you were s’posed t’be the grown up in the room.”

Benny’s quick to Danny’s defense. “S’okay, hun. I’ll have him back in time for camera class.”

So Danny tacks on, “Yeah, and I’ll have him back in one piece for– I dunno, detention.”

Looking at both of them like she could bonk their heads together right there, Kathy just sighs. “I’ll say, if this isn’t the most cracked school I ever heard of, lemme tell ya.”

“Hey,” hit with some kind of revelation, Benny snaps to, almost animated - or animated as Benny gets, “how long’s it take to make the pictures… y’know, pictures?”

“Not long. I’ll probably develop these when I get home tonight, maybe tomorrow mornin. Why?”

“Next time you stop by the house, bring the ones our girl here took.”

“If they turn out to be any good,” Kathy mumbles, blushing.

“I don’t need to develop ‘em to know they’re good. I mean, there’s always a chance the film got overexposed or I s’pose I could fuck up developin them. But, barring major snafus, those ones’ll be printworthy.”

“Yeah? I hope so. Aright, c’mon Benny, take me home. My feet’re achin somethin awful n’ I been lookin forward all day to dat pint of mint chocolate chip we got inna freezer.”

Eyes cast off in the direction of the door, Benny plants a kiss of compliance on her forehead. And with that, the two take their leave, delayed only by Kathy’s turning back every so often to toss a few fretful glances Danny’s way. It’s strange, the look she’s got on her face as she disappears out the front doors of the Stoplight.

The more he’s thinking about it, the more he feels the rope tangled around his heart gets pulled taut by the eighty-pound anchor in his stomach. A feeling not unlike being crushed by a boa constrictor.

Yeah. Miss you too, Kath.

It’d be a problem if it was a problem. But it’s not. Not at all.

═

taglist: @narcolini, @drabbles-mc, @ashlingiswriting, @tofuwildcard, @cositapreciosa, @axreliono, @bellinitini, @complete-nonsequitur, @when-did-this-become-difficult, @ladygoatee (tagged everyone I previewed this to in wc but no pressure to read bc I know not everyone is in this fandom)

[teaandfiction-28]

I was one of those that guessed correct 🙌🏼 Could I request smut 1 please? Honestly enjoying your writing so much 👏🏼

Well-guessed @r3dskywaterfall 💛

Thank you so much for the lovely comment - I'm thrilled you're enjoying these stories!

I'm not sure why but Hank Voight losing his virginity has been a little plot bunny bouncing around in my head for *years* 😂 So here you go - hope you enjoy!

—————————

Prompt: “Staying quiet was never your strong suit, was it?"

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Smut, First Time, Language [18+ only]

Timeline: Set during C31 of ‘Brand New Day’.

“Hank, do you remember your first time?”

It was almost midnight on Christmas Eve and, after finally getting an overly tired Alexis to sleep, Hank and Kate had collapsed into an exhausted tangle of limbs on the sofa, two half-empty glasses of wine on the coffee table and ‘It's a Wonderful Life’ on the TV.

She wasn’t sure where the question came from but she supposed that it stemmed from her incessant desire to know everything there was to know about Hank Voight. In her eyes, no piece of knowledge was trivial when it came to the enigma that was her husband but, when his body tensed beneath her and her question was met with complete silence, Kate lifted her head from his chest to peer up at him, curious hazel meeting startled russet. 

“That’s a subject I ain’t touching with a barge pole.” He eventually grumbled with a huff of amusement, prior experience dictating that these conversations were better had when their house was void of both Erin and their daughter but, undeterred, Kate continued to gaze up at him expectantly. 

“Honey, why would I let you get upset about something that happened long before you were born?” He challenged, more than a little baffled at her left-field line of questioning but, when she jutted out her lower lip and muttered a quiet ‘please’, he rolled his eyes and caved like a house of cards. 

“Summer of ’84. Prom night.”

Kate pushed into a seated position at his side and instantly he regretted indulging her when she robbed him of the warmth of her body, the soft cotton of his t-shirt instantly becoming cool without her touch. 

“I’d had a great football season my senior year of high school and Northwestern had offered me a full scholarship. I guess as a promising Quarterback, I was like catnip for the girls who wanted to hang off the arm of a football player.”

Of course she knew he had snubbed both college and a career in football to follow in his father’s footsteps but she couldn’t help but imagine a young, inexperienced version of her husband in a darkened classroom, locking lips with his giggly date as he battled with the ruffles on her dress with shaky, unsure hands.

“Hank Voight, the cliche.” She teased with a smirk but the cute montage playing in her mind soon came to a screeching halt when provided some clarity on the identity of the young woman with whom he’d cashed in his v-card. 

Turns out, it wasn’t his prom date after all. 

“Wait…you lost your virginity to your Spanish professor!?” She balked, her jaw going slack and her eyes widening comically when he hiked a casual shoulder as though it was commonplace to loose your virginity to a woman who was probably old enough to be your mother! 

“After I took my date home like the perfect gentleman I was, I headed back to school to meet some buddies and she was, uh, waiting for me under the bleachers.”

His teacher was waiting for him under the bleachers!? Part of her wanted to hunt this woman down and knock her teeth down her throat for taking advantage of him but she wasn’t naive enough to believe that even a teenage Hank Voight could have been forced to do something he didn’t want to do. 

So instead of letting her fiery protectiveness ruin the rest of their evening, she simply cocked an eyebrow and levelled him with a serious look. 

“So…how was it?”

Biting back the clipped bark of laughter that rumbled in his chest, Hank shook his head in disbelief. Of course she would want to get right down to the horny details. 

“Fast.” He admitted with a snort of amusement, vaguely recalling how he’d almost ruined his dress pants when his busty, olive-skinned instructor had propositioned him with a lascivious glance over her shoulder, blood-red lips quirked into a coquettish grin as she slowly lifted her tight skirt up and over her hips.

It had been over almost as quickly as it began, stumbling away from her on trembling legs as he fought to catch his breath, his heart jackhammering against his ribs. But she had simply shimmied her skirt back over the voluptuous globes of her ass, pecked him on the lips and left him standing awkwardly in the darkness with her sultry adios cariño echoing in his ears.

When he caught Kate’s pensive expression out of the corner of his eye, he idly wondered what she was thinking. Was she imagining him pinning a faceless brunette against a jagged beam, their quiet moans interspersed with the sound of flesh meeting flesh? Or perhaps she envisioned him looking utterly terrified as a Mrs Robinson-type character dropped to her knees at his feet and proceeded to blow his innocent little mind into the next solar system?

Either way, he couldn’t contain the quiet sigh of relief when the corner of her mouth tugged into a wry grin, her eyes sparkling with genial mirth as she met his gaze from across the couch.

“Well, it’s good to know you weren’t always a stallion in the sack.” She teased with a wink, a pleasant sensation blooming low in her belly when his eyes darkened with lust, a fission of sexual tension zinging between them like an electric current. 

“A stallion, huh?” He growled, caging her between his arms as he planted both hands on the cushions either side of her hips, inching forwards until her had her pinned between the pillows and his warm body.

Capturing her lips in a searing kiss, Hank settled his weight in the cradle of her thighs, her long limbs instinctually winding around his body like ivy to draw him down until they were pressed together from chest to thigh. 

“You know I saved my best work for you sweetheart.” He rumbled when his mouth left hers in favour of tracing hot, tongue-filled kisses along the line of her jaw and down the slope of her neck, grinning against her heated flesh when she mewled in response and her hips jerked against his in search of sweet friction.

Whatever smart-assed response she had in mind died in her mouth when Hank slipped a hand along the soft curve of her belly, fingertips gliding over the smooth flesh to slide beneath the elastic of her sleep shorts. 

“Hank, we can’t…Erin’s upstairs.”

Her protest fell on deaf ears when his deft fingers dipped between her legs to trace slow, teasing circles around her swollen bundle of nerves with the pads of his fingers. 

“Better stay quiet then.” He whispered with a smirk, clearly having forgotten how they had both almost perished with embarrassment not too long ago when they were caught in flagrante by his pseudo-daughter. 

While at least they were still fully clothed, it was a bad idea. It was such a bad idea. But all thoughts of trying to persuade him to wait until they were in the privacy of their bedroom left in rush when he slipped first one, then a second thick digit inside of her, the rough pad of his thumb taking over the rhythmically stroking of her aching clit. 

“Fuck Hank!” She whimpered, hands scrabbling to find purchase on the soft cotton of his t-shirt, the fabric bunching in her vice-like grip as she used his body as a counter-balance to her own undulating hips.

“So good for me.” He husked, adjusting his weight so that he could shove her t-shirt up and over her chest, lips quirking into a grin as her dusky nipples instantly pebbled when bared to the cool air. 

When he drew one tight bud into the warm cavern of his mouth, Kate released her grip on his shirt in favour of frantically clutching at the back of his head with one hand, the other flying to her mouth in an effort to muffle the tight whine of pleasure that was threatening to escape unbidden in response to his masterful stimulation. 

Before long, Kate was dancing along the precipice of bliss, her chest damp and heaving as she gasped for breath, desperate for him to push her over the edge. Releasing her nipple with a quiet ‘pop’, Hank increased the pace of his once-languid movements, propping himself up on one elbow to watch her lithe body bucking and writhing beneath him, face contorted in pure ecstasy. 

“C’mon baby, let me feel you.”

He could sense her climax coming long before her slick walls began to pulse and throb around his fingers, giving him ample time to knock her hand out of the way and seal his mouth over hers when she came with a sharp cry, suppressing the instinctive, guttural groans that followed before she woke up the rest of the house. 

Easing her back down to earth with slow, steady strokes and soft, easy kisses, Hank was watching her intently with an expression of smug satisfaction plastered across his handsome face when Kate eventually managed to force her eyes open, the flushed skin at the base of her throat pulsing rhythmically in time with her rapid heart rate. 

When the fluttering around his fingers eventually ceased, Hank withdrew his hand from her shorts and, with his eyes still locked on hers, lifted his arousal-slicked digits to his lips, sliding both fingers into his mouth with a hum of delight. 

Ignoring Kate’s breathy “Jesus Christ” at his salacious display, he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to the very tip of her nose, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he peered down at her. 

“I guess staying quiet was never your strong suit, was it?”

[mjrtaurus]

Really obsessed with Modern AU Urpi having some silly delinquent past rn.

Like imagine one day the kids come home from school, Iva and Kuma tagging along as they usually do, and obviously they have to stay for dinner. During dinner the table is filled with chatter about work and assignments and the kids start talking about current research projects.

Kuma chose to look through some older newspaper for a good topic and mentioned benignly that he saw Urpi in an older article. Nobody really bats an eye at that, she doesn’t have the best stall in the farmers market for almost two decades with some local acknowledgement but Kuma clarifies that it wasn’t that but doesn’t expand on it either.

“I’m sorry I just didn’t want to make a wrong assumption.”

“Sweetheart I won’t be offended by any means, don’t be scared to ask and be wrong! As long as you accept the answer I don’t see the problem in an assumption.”

“Okay. Mrs Urpi, were you by any chance part of a motorcycle gang?”

A beat passes as utensils hover over plates. Urpi blinks in surprise before responds much too nonchalantly.

“Yes, I was.”

The table erupts in gasps and one lone baritone chuckle from Garp. Dadan has her hands covering her mouth, Kuzan's chill unaffected persona melts away and Dragon's eyes threaten to pop right out of his skull. Iva was smiling harder than anyone had ever seen them.

Urpi looked at the children confused before realization took over. “Have I never told you guys?”

Dadan looked around incredulously “Um I think we would have remembered you being in a motorcycle gang!”

“Well technically I wasn’t just in one, I founded it when I was…16 I believe.”

“You were the founder? So the blonde girl on the dragon head helmet was you?”

“BLONDE?!?”

Iva, sowing of chaos that they are, immediately jumped in.

“Loved your hairstyle by the way. Not everyone can pull off box dye blonde and a half shaven look so well.”

“Thank you dear, my parents were furious at the time but they came around eventually.”

“How’d they take the news about your little extracurricular activities?”

“Surprisingly well! My dad always said you get one big screwup as a kid and to them this was mine. Still, they got my motorcycle license revoked and threatened to send me to Alaska every once in a while but that was it really.”

Urpi got so lost in the memories she didn’t even notice the stares from her children, they looked at her as if they had never seen her before.

“WHO ARE YOU?!?!?!”

“A stone-cold badass!” Is immediately what Garp would say, grinning ear to ear. And Urpi would wave a hand at him like she’s shooing him away.

This is extra funny if Dragon has already entered his rebellious little shithead phase where he’s making his court assigned parole officer gray prematurely. He’s realizing that the reason his mom has always been so understanding and approachable whenever he fucks up is because she was the same way.

He comes by it naturally, apparently.

Iva had always had their suspicions. Garp rolled with the punches too easy to have much of a rebellious bone in his body. Plenty of stubborn ones, though. They are so, so excited to hear more of her.

Kuma is listening with rapt attention, always eager to learn from the elders who truly cared. He may or may not ask for permission to get an audio recording of this so he can take notes for the report on this newspaper article. He just had to convince his teachers that she was a genuine primary resource. How exciting!

Meanwhile Kuzan and Dadan are stunned, but on the edge of their seats, just ready for her to spill more of those beans.

But then, from Garp’s side of the room:

“I still remember when we first met! She pulled a knife and took a few swings at me! Cut me up pretty good, too!”

“SHE WHAT?!”

Urpi looks at him with a coy smile.

[matrixxsystem]

Luck Runs Out Part 4

Leo pulled back the curtain to Donnie's lab with April following behind him and was immediately met with Casey's uh, interesting, music playlist. It was no wonder him and Donnie got along so well, they both liked the kind of mechanical dubstep Donnie always played when he was working on something. Casey was sitting at Donnie's work bench with a pair of goggles on as small sparks flew. He was doing something with the tech inside the mask it seemed.. Leo gave April a look like he wasn't sure if he should bug him or try and wait till he was done. 

"Hey guys. What's up?" Casey called from his seat, causing both April and Leo to look a bit surprised. He turned the music off and lifted the goggles off his head, swiveling in the chair to see them with an awkward smile. "Okay-" Leo started as he took a step forward, "How in the would did you hear us over that?? You were across the room with loud ass music and you were fiddling with your mask thing-"

"I think you forget I grew up in a bunker during the apocalypse Leo-"

"....Fair 'nough- Anyway, we're all going out to get lunch and I'm dragging you with us cause we need more humans to make it look less weird"

"Less weird..? Please tell me you aren't going into town for lunch.. I don't- I mean I just- Y'know-? I'm the last guy you want in your group to make you look normal-" Leo rolled his eyes and threw his arm over Casey's shoulder, "Yes we're going into the city, and you are coming cause we can all use some fresh air. And me and Usagi kinda have this idea.. We want to use the cloaking pins Donnie made and we know my brothers have been kinda weird about using them.. And since you haven't disappeared yet like in those Back from the Future movies we can only assume you're just, here now.. So you have to learn how to be a human in the 2020s" 

"Well, I guess" Casey sighed a little, "I mean Donnie feels pretty bad about sending you alone and then.. You kinda snapped in the government facility and... y'know, killed two people, and wont talk to them about it- And you lost your arm and almost died, like, I helped stich you up after the.. Invasion, and I mean I've seen blood before but that.. It was just a lot for everyone." 

"But I feel bad too-! Like it sucks and I get that, I really do, I'm literally forced to look at my mistakes in the mirror everyday- But those pins don't represent what happened to me and I mean.. If anything, shouldn't the pins represent that I made it out alive, and that we did it? I guess.. I dunno... I just don't want them to feel stuck in the lair like we failed when we didn't. Donnie wanted to go to school and he still hasn't even applied to places around here! Mikey was looking at art schools. It's just.. It's not fair." Casey gave Leos hand a sympathetic pat and pulled away, starting to clean up his space, "I get it, I really do.. It's hard watching the people you care about struggle, or hold themselves back because they don't want to hurt you. Sensei was like that a lot when I was young, I think cause I was really little he kind of, held back when he was around me for some reason, I think he didn't wanna scare me or he thought I was fragile or something? I don't really remember the reason, and I guess it doesn't really matter now.. But the only real things that fixed it between us was time and communication."

"...I don't like how smart you are sometimes haha, but yeah I'm sure part of it is my fault too, maybe that's something we can talk about before we leave, cause I'm sure by now they're onto my plan-" Casey nodded, setting his mask aside, "Yeah, that might be good, I am kind of excited to try some more food from around here, even if that means having to deal with people I guess.. Where are we going again?"

_____

"So.. Where are we going exactly?" Donnie asked, tilting his head at Usagi. "It's a surprise, but you will need your cloaking pins." The air was suddenly a lot more tense when he mentioned the pins, Mikey hesitantly glanced down to the pouch on his hip where his pin was kept. "I uh... Well uh..." Usagi went over at sat on Leos beanbag chair, "It was Leo's idea" He said with a little shrug, "He said he felt bad you guys never use the pins you all worked so hard to get. So we were gonna go have lunch in the city, our treat."

"..He does?" Raph asked, giving his brothers a little glance before sitting in his own beanbag chair, "What... Did he say exactly?" Usagi sat up more and thought for a moment, "Just that, since his little accident and the near invasion where he got hurt again, it feels like you guys tip toe around the pins and he feels bad that you feel like you can't use them, he mentioned that Mikey was looking at studios for various hobbies and Donnie was looking at colleges, even that you Raph might've wanted to get out of the house too but that no ones really done it. And it makes him feel a little sad, since he uses his pin to hang out with me and it doesn't bother him so much." Raph sighed a little, "I-I mean... Yeah we've looked around- Of course it'd be nice to y'know, go do stuff and make friends outside of the hidden city.. But it's dangerous, even if.. I just mean like... Oh- Have you ever seen the Spider-Man movies? Peter Parker is the main character and he has these powers to stop bad things and bad people, so he starts wearing a mask and fighting crime. But because he's always off saving the day he never has time for a normal life, his family, his girlfriend, his school, his job.. He's always ditching without an excuse and messing up his normal life because he's trying to do the right thing and protect everyone.. We can't have both normal lives and ninja lives. We know that.." 

"Did this Peter Parker also have three brothers and a sister and one of their siblings partners able to support him?" 

"Well no.. He was always kind of alone, that's part of what made it so hard. He did have a friend helping him eventually and like being on the computer for him while he was out so the friend could hack stuff and find things for him. But besides that one person no one else knew"

"-Till the second Spider-Man Miles came into the story! Then they fought together for a while!" Mikey chimed in. Raph nodded. "Right. But even then Miles was always avoiding his family and making them worry and Peter didn't have much family left after his uncle was killed-" Mikey pouted a little, "I mean yeah I guess, but in the newest installment Miles finally comes clean to his family after this big battle with the other spider people who disagree with him and they all accept him and he gets the girl and his friends who understand him! It's not about pretending to be normal, it's about finding people who accept you for you! And there's no weirder place than New York, I mean April is a human raised by humans, and she's super chill and is even dating a mutant, there's no way she's the only one" Usagi nodded a little, "All things take time, but just as April understands you, others can too. This is merely a step towards that, you all deserve lives outside of this, and no matter what happens, or where you go, you'll always be family and you'll always be there for each other. You can worry about being Spider-Man when the time comes, but today it's just lunch. And I think a big tough guy like you can handle that without too much overthinking right? If anything, do it for Leo. He's been putting a lot of thought into asking you all to wear the pins more often. He wants to see you all being happy and doing the things you talked about wanting to do before all this happened.."

"I know you're right but.. Raph just has a bad feeling- I don't want to stop anyone or myself from doing stuff, and I don't want them to feel bad either. I just, I can't stop seeing it when I think about the pins." Usagi reached over gently patting his shoulder, "Well, lets face it together then. Okay? I've known you for what, three years now? There's nothing that you, or this family, can't do. What do you see?" Raph let out a small defeated sigh and rubbed the back of his neck, "Yeah.. I've heard that before.. But you're right. I can't over think things that haven't even happened yet." He paused for a moment giving another glance to his brothers before talking again, "When you brought Leo home. His arm had been torn apart, there was so much blood and.." He paused again, thinking back to Usagi stepping into the room with Leo in his arms, tear streaks staining Leos face that was masked with blood.. His arm broken to nothing and bleeding out the whole way into the medbay. There was bits of.. someone, stuck in his teeth and he couldn't stop throwing up till Donnie gave him a sedative.. Usagi gave him another sympathetic pat on his shoulder, Breaking Raph out of his thoughts, "It was hard." Usagi spoke quietly, "I understand, really. I know we don't always see eye to eye but Leo is... He's my everything. I have never cared for someone so deeply, he makes me want to be more than I am, and makes me feel so.. Seen. I wanna protect him with everything I have as long as he'll have me, probably as much as you do. And seeing him there in that hallway, bloody and weak.. And all scared and beaten up. It was jarring to see, and I can only imagine how you felt when I brought him back and you had to clean him up. And even now, two years later, it's hard not to get a little panicked when he insists he can go off alone somewhere. But the one thing I've learned about Leo is that he's so much more capable than anyone realizes, and sometimes even when you're unsure you just have to trust him, even when he doesn't have a plan, or doesn't know if he can win, even when he gets caught. You just have to trust him." 

"I do-" Raph said as he stood up, "And.. I don't hate you or nothin' y'know, I could never. You're a good guy, and I know Leo would've been in real trouble without you around to help him out with all the stuff he had goin' on. And we're real lucky he has you. " He paused a little and took his pin out, "Alright, I think we've had enough mushy stuff for the week, let's go have lunch" 

-_-_-_-

Leo, April and Casey walked into the room a moment later, seeing Usagi help fasten Mikey's pin on his hoodie. Casey gently pushed past the two to get a good look at how they all looked. "Oh wow, you guys look so.."

"Different?" Raph asked, tilting his head with a little smile. "I'm really not used to having hair-" Leo said as he put his pin on, "No no, I mean you look.. Like you. Its not bad, its just so weird to see you guys as human." Leo nodded a little, "Yeah I didn't think Donnie's hair would be in locs- It suits him though, less day to day maintenance and all." Donnie rolled his eyes and pointed back to Leo, "And you having those long bleached dead end dreads certainly fits your aesthetic dear brother." Leo rolled his eyes and decided just this once he'd let Donnie's comments slide, they didn't have time to wrestle right now. "You're just jealous I'm the hotter twin~" He said with a little laugh, "Are we all ready then?" 

Everyone nodded and followed Leo and Usagi outside, everyone looked a bit nervous, which was to be expected. No one wanted to get caught, or mess up on any first impressions on their first group outing topside since they all almost died. Usagi took Leo's hand with a little smile, "We aren't going far. Just up the block, figured a pizza place might suit you guys" 

"Pizza?!" Mikey repeated, pushing past April and Donnie to look at Usagi with stars in his eyes, "Ohmigosh you read my mind!!" Usagi chuckled a little as they walked, "Well you have said before how much you all love pizza, and I think a place with options might be good for Casey who doesn't have a lot of experience with the food of our time." Casey nodded a little, "Heheh.. Yeah, we didn't have very much there, and definitely not this kind of variety. I recently got to try something called ramen though- It was amazing!! Michelangelo was always a pretty good cook, even when we didn't have much he always found a way to make it enjoyable, or at the least, easy to get down." Raph tilted his head a little, wondering what kind of food they had in the future. He knew it was hard for stuff to grow, but was it really that bad? "No wonder you're so thin," Raph said with a little chuckle, Donnie raised his hand to pull the attention towards himself, "We should have a night where we all make our favorite foods and share them. I'm kind of interested now to try some of the food Casey was subject to- I mean, grew up with." April and Mikey both nodded, "Yes yes yes! I wanna try the pasta April's mom always makes for holidays! It sounds sooooo gooooood!!" Usagi slowed down for a second turning to Donnie, "Everyone's favorite..?" He asked in a quiet but serious tone. Leo stopped too, looking between the two. "Because, I wouldn't want to be invited to something like that only to make you all uncomfortable. Or well, most of you at least." Donnie hesitated for a moment but then nodded, "It's been about three years, I'm sure well be fine- And I mean, even if we don't eat it I know Leo and Casey will." Casey nodded, "I'm all for it" He said with a little shrug, "I don't know how well you're gonna like my cooking though-" 

"What's the main stuff you guys had to eat?" Mikey asked, ready with his phone to look up what sort of meals they could've made with whatever ingredients they had available. "Well.. When we had the mass greenhouse in the abandoned buildings we had a lot of vegetables, mostly tomato's, potatoes, and carrots I think. So we had a lot of soups, things that were easy to take with us in any container and could be had hot or cold. That kinda stuff. Oh but, we did have these crunchy like, candied flowers that Draxx always brought when he came to visit. But he never let just anyone eat them, it was special, he brought them when someone died, or when someone was born. But on a normal day we had cold soup left overs and Autolyse, which is kinda like bread?"

"I'm sorry, auto what?" April asked, more confused than ever. Donnie raised a finger, "It's flower and water, it's the most basic and bland version of bread, commonly made when people are lacking supplies. But as a side to other foods or when packed with things like protein it can be a pretty good survival food." Casey nodded, "I wouldn't call it my favorite food but if you really wanna know what food was like that's a pretty good start."

"So we're really gonna do Donnie's idea?" Leo asked, "Cause I mean, I'm all for it I just.." Raph gently patted Leo's back as a reassuring gesture, "I'm down, how bad could it be? Look Leo, I know you've been trying really hard lately to keep your side of things out of the house in trying not to freak us out and we've been really weird about all this but we're all grown ups here, I think it'd be good to do something fun like this. I mean Usagi's like family now, and I wanna get to know that side of him." Leo blushed a little as he looked back to Usagi, then smiled more and nodded, "Heh, since when did you get mature huh- Fair enough. Think tomorrow would be too soon? The new JJ movie is hitting the internet and Donnie said he could put it up on the projector for us to watch, might be a good activity to warrant having so much food."

"That's a great idea, I don't know how easily it'll be to get pops out of his chair though.."

"Eh, we can burn that bridge when we come to it."

"...Uh, Leo? Don't you mean.. Cross that bridge when we get to it?"

"Hm? Oh- No, no I did not."

"...I-"

"Oh look-" Usagi chimed in, pointing across the street to a fairly decent looking restaurant. "We're here." And now look, when I say decent, I really just mean decent by New York's standards, which in this case really just means there's no bugs in or on the food, there's still people inside who haven't choked or ran out screaming, and all of their lights work. You can't really ask for a better place in this of corner of the town when you're looking for cheap food and a table of 7.to just be ready when you walk in.  LRO Part 1 Part 5

[lucan-multiverse]

cosmic sidestep - their multiverse p7 [Part 1], [Part 2], [Part 3], [Part 4], [Part 5], [Part 6a],[Part 6b]

--

Nessie’s cockpit powers down, the blue and orange glow of her console stuttering out and leaving him in the dark with nothing but his own weariness. After the adrenalin of the battle, fatigue settles over his limbs like a shroud.

He’d achieved what he had set out to do – he’d snuck past the reaper’s defences and destroyed it, saving the Berlin and all her crew - and while initially, he had cheered to have escaped any damage, further inspection while limping back to the Berlin showed he hadn’t been as lucky as he had thought.

Nessie was a wounded thing, and Luc had no idea how long she would need to heal.

The weight of it makes it hard to move. After the debrief with a grateful Captain and his core officers, Luc realises Blake and his parents feel further away than ever. There 's not enough resources - barely enough for the Berlin, certainly none for his little flyer. He was effectively grounded. It's a gargantuan effort to push himself away from the controls, steadfastly ignoring looking at the co-pilot seat beside him that’s sat too long empty, and stumbles his way into the small living quarters in the ship’s belly. It had been his favourite place once. A lifetime of various knickknacks collected during their travels on the walls, full of love and life. Now it’s bare. Mostly empty, the reminders of what he’s lost tucked away behind her bulkheads where he tries to tell himself it won’t hurt as much.

The sleeping quarters sit a deck above, up the short ladder needed to get up into the space. It’s almost as big as the entire living quarters below – a wide, luxurious bunk and a wider viewport that stares directly out into space and the stars above the bed. There are no stars there to look at now, just an echo of the Berlin’s metal cargo bay roof and Luc pauses long only enough only to slam the control to lower the heat shield and to gather up a lone navy blue jacket littered with badges from a low couch nearby. It’s far too big on him when he pulls it on and crawls into the sheets, but it’s not just the softness and warmth he really wants from it. The jacket had belonged to Blake, and once it had smelled just like him but now only the faintest strains of his husband remained.

Despite his exhaustion, he void in his chest seems to pulse in time with his grief, making sleep a long time coming.

--

The circle of stones in the distance seems strange. Heavy. Ominous in an odd way but Luc can only focus on the chill of the wind coming off the highlands trying to sneak past his coat.

“We don’t have winters like this at home,” he says, shivering and thinking of Terra Nova’s temperate climate. “I can’t say I’m a fan.”

Beside him, Blake’s laugh is deep and rumbles in his chest. Luc loves the sound of it. “This isn’t winter, boy. This is a balmy Scottish summer.”

Luc shoots his husband a suspicious look. “I know you scots are all a little tough and a little crazy but this is not balmy. This is freeze-your-balls-off winter chill.”

“Oh and are ye balls in danger of fallin’ off, are they?”

“Yeah,” Luc grins. “You gonna do something about it? Or you might end up with that wife you’ve always wanted after all.”

Blake laughs again as he pulls Luc close. “I willna let you freeze, Luc. But I’m not ready to go back yet.”

Luc bites back his whine but presses close to his husband’s side. He’d known Blake had been running from something when he’d enlisted, Luc just didn’t know it had been all this. Not these cold, desolate hills, but the sprawling estate that lay beyond them. It was the weight around his neck that kept him tethered when all he wanted to do was fly.

Luc was grateful Blake had brought him here, had showed him all this.

“What are we doing out here anyway?” he asks, unable to stop another shiver from rolling through him. That wind was ice. “I’m pretty sure I can still appreciate the rugged Scottish highlands from the car. You know, where it’s toasty and warm and no wind and there’s even a little heater under my butt-“

“See down beyond that ridge?”

Luc squints, his eyes following the path Blake’s fingertip draws across the landscape. In the distance, a long, squat building is tucked into the side of the mountain. “Yeah?”

“That’s where we’re goin’. That’s where we’ll find our ship.”

--

Luc tugs at the wiring under the console with frustration as his eyes blur from the tears the constant replays of his memories conjure up. It’s exhausting. Trying to keep all this agony inside him, trying to fill the empty spaces he knows will never be filled. He’s been running on half a heart for years now and he’s truly starting to wonder if he has the energy to keep going.

“Dun think like that, boy,” a voice, familiar and rough and 100% Blake comes to him. Luc doesn’t open his eyes, knowing if he did, there would be nothing but a void there anyway.

His whole chest aches.

“Why not?” he says bitterly. He thinks of the rift, floating out there beyond the scopes of the Berlin and wonders what it would be like to just point Nessie at it, broken as she is, and just let her drift. Maybe a flare will take him too. Maybe the flare will take him wherever it had taken Blake, because it sure as hell wasn’t here.

“I miss you,” Luc says into the quiet but there’s no answer and of course, when he opens his eyes, he’s alone.

Almost.

A shadow skitters past the bottom of the ramp and Luc feels the same odd prickle of awareness against the back of his neck he knew could only mean one thing: Luca.

He shoves a curl out of his face – his hair is getting too long now, too much like Luca’s unruly mess – and sits up. He waits for a full minute without speaking, knowing himself well enough to know that Luca is slinking back, trying to summon up the courage to venture closer.

It takes longer than he expects but this Luca seems like a broken thing, half wild. He finally shuffles into the light from Nessie’s glow and looks up at Luc from the bottom of the ramp. “Um.”

“Do you need something?” Luc asks, tired. He’s not sure if he has the energy to fight with himself today. Not another version of himself. His own thoughts are already loud enough in his head, his own reprimands and recriminations. He’s not in the mood for Luca’s too.

Luca takes a halting step forward, his hands flexing anxiously against the dark threads of his uniform pants. “Um. I was wondering... that is, um. Do… Do you want some help? I know you’re, um, a pilot, like R-… Like Blake, but I’m an engineer. One of the best on the ship, Cap says,” and Luca flushes proudly for a brief instant before it fades into uncertainty again. “I could help. If you want.”

Luc looks down at the mass of wires in his palms. Luca wasn’t wrong. Whatever innate techmancing ability that graced Luca in this word, it didn’t translate into his. Luc could fly, second only to Blake on the timeboards, more kills than he could count during the war, enough combat missions that rivaled even this father’s records, but putting his ship back together after a firefight on his own… that was new and far beyond him.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. Grateful. Maybe Luca will stop hating him - or maybe Luca is just trying to get him gone - far away from his space to where he’s not a threat. Luc can understand that. “That’d…. I’d appreciate that.” -

[baurbiediv]

midsummers

pairing ➔ jj maybank x gf!pogue!reader

warnings ➔ reader got that STRAP ON HER, reader basically pulls a S1E01 jj move at the boneyard that will forever be classic, fic takes place during S1,E05, mention(s) of a gun, reader is not playing around with y’all, and yes i used the dialogue from the show, and yes i altered it???

synopsis ➔ what happens when the reader happens to be in the wrong place at the right time?

a/n ➔ not proofread per usual

-

midsummers.

the annual island club party. you never understood what it was and why it was so special, yet every year kie attempted to drag the entire group with her in an effort to keep herself sane during the kook event.

this was the year that kie was able to get you to join along with her.

the one time of the year where every kook princess ever got dressed up in pretty silk dresses and wore weaved flower crowns that almost identically matched the dress.

“i’m not too sure about this guys. i mean what if something goes down and we’re not there?” pope questioned, he said tapping his foot on the creaky floorboard of the chateau porch.

“i mean me and kie will be there, nothing too much to worry about. we’re both responsible!” you piped in earning a nod from kie.

jj spoke up from his spot on the small seat, “look, in the event that something happens, someone’s gotta have something on them.” he said, pulling the gun out off his pocket, waving it around in the air.

you leaned over and snatched the gun out of his hand, proceeding to tuck it in the waistband of your shorts, then turned back around at jj then looked at him as if he was stupid.

john b pointed at you, “see jj, that’s exactly why you shouldn’t do that.” he said before laughing, causing jj to dramatically roll his eyes. “look j, you can’t just do that,”

you said mimicking his previous actions with your hands, which made everyone else but jj laugh. “but the guns safe with me. i promise.” you said as everyone nodded and carried out with the rest of the plans.

-

the day of midsummers had crept up on you.

and quite honestly, part of you was excited for it, the other half? not so much, an uneasy feeling had rested in the pit of your stomach.

something inside was saying that about to tonight was going to go down, but clearly you couldn’t pin point your finger on what exactly it was, and so you easily decided to brush it off.

kie had practically begged on her hands and knees to get you to stay over her house, saying that it was ‘important so she wouldn’t lose her mind’, if that wasn’t one way of asking to get ready then you don’t know what was.

sighing loudly, you flattened the small wrinkles in your dress with your hands. the silky fabric feeling smooth against your hands.

kie came bursting into her room (like it wasn’t even hers to begin with), “hey y/n? you almost ready —,” she blurted out before seeing you standing in front of the full body mirror in the corner of her room.

“dude, you look amazing!” kie said excitedly before running over and hugging you, which made you smile brightly before hugging her back.

“this almost wants to make me go full kook! almost.”

-

the amount of fancy suits and rich entities that surrounded you was quite literally starting to give you a headache.

trying to enjoy yourself was going well until the amount of kooks that bumped into you and eyed you like you were the one to blame.

chugging down a shot, sarah found you clearly lost from kiara even though you two arrived together. “you’re by yourself huh?” sarah said leaning against the counter.

you playfully smiled at her, “i don’t know how though, kie magically disappeared and that’s how i ended up here!” you laughed.

“look, if you see her tell me!” patting her shoulder before walking away to find the bathroom.

-

during your hiatus from the main venue, jj was trying to not make himself too noticeable as he tried to slip a note to sarah, but in the midst of trying to get away, he was a little too late.

rafe caught up to him and turned him around, making sure jj faced him.

“i’m wonderin’ if you could get me a mai tai my friend.”

“yeah pogue, how about you make that two?” kelce piped in.

“well i’m on the clock right now, you guys look spiffy.” jj blurted out in an attempt to buy himself some time to escape his situation.

“you know, uh, i got a couple of orders ahead of you, so why don’t you guys go ahead and wait by the bar?” jj suggested, hoping that they’d actually listen to him.

but of course, rafe didn’t like that answer, “but until then, help yourselves to hors d’oeuvres.” jj said now walking backwards in a poor attempt to run away.

rafe scoffed as he brought his friends over with a simple hand motion, “hey guys, jj’s gonna serve us some hors d’oeuvres.” rafe said now hot on his trail. “we’re actually gonna follow you in here just to make sure.” rafe said, chasing jj through the door.

meanwhile you were still on the hunt for the bathroom, seeing so many hallways that lead to literally nowhere.

much to your knowledge, you stumbled upon a door and you pushed it open, not to sure on where you were you looked to the right of you and opened the large brown door and walked in then groaned, you were in the goddamn men’s locker room.

of course you out of all people would do something this stupid. you cursed yourself mentally before hearing multiple voices suddenly come in, quickly putting your ear on the door.

“hey, man, what are you doin’ in the locker room?” a voice all too familiar voice said, rafe. you rolled your eyes before hearing more footsteps and grunts. “wow that’s a cute outfit.” another voice said, jj.

you wish how badly you could’ve sighed out loud right now, you wanted to help him, scratch that, you needed to help him.

only god knows what rafe and his friends were planning on doing. kelce came up behind jj and put him in a chokehold. at this point in time, you were peeking through the small openings of the door.

“hold him still. what — what do you think? a four iron, right?” rafe said cracking his knuckles.

“alright hold his head still. i’m gonna line this up.” he said.

“very rafe of you. five on one?” jj said trying to get out of kelce’s grip.

“if you could please stop talking? it’s very disrespectful, i’m trying to hit a ball. learn. your etiquette my friend” rafe said, getting ready to punch him.

“come on.” jj said still wriggling

in one swift motion, you took the gun from out the holster of your dress and opened the door. sliding the barrel of the gun back and placing it on the back of rafe’s neck.

jj looked at you, “y/n?” he said.

the entire room fell silent, “look rafe,” you said before laughing, “i don’t think your friends would enjoy seeing your brains splattered all over the floor now would they?”

you said out loud, rafe kneeling down with his hands in the air while you were waiting from a response from his friends, nothing.

“look y/n, you seriously have no idea who you’re messing with.” rafe said, sounding very confident in himself you scoffed as you put your index finger on the trigger, “shut the fuck up and let me repeat myself. do you think your friends would like seeing your brains splattered on the floor? yes or no!”

this time putting more emphasis in your voice, and pushing the muzzle of the gun harder into his neck.

hearing various ‘no’s’ coming from the boys, “didn’t think so.” you muttered, suddenly you pointed it at kelce, “let him go.” you spat and he complied, letting jj out of his grip.

you slyly put the gun back under your dress and making your way over to jj, and grabbing his hand leaving rafe and his friends behind and dumbfounded.

jj was hollering, he was so proud of you, “that’s right! that’s my girl!” he screamed, you slapped your hand over his mouth and laughed, “too loud j!”, before finding your way to john b and finding the others

-

“i mean you guys should’ve seen it!” jj said as he re-enacting the entire scene, pope was shaking his head, shocked at everything he was hearing.

“y/n, no way you pulled a gun on the rafe cameron.” pope said.

you sat up brushing your shoulders off, jokingly, “i did! but i mean look. i wasn’t about to let jj get his ass jumped by a bunch of kooks.” you said as jj stepped in.

“now now, i wasn’t letting them jump me, i was just .. stalling.” he said which caused you to look at him at the side of your eye,

“yeah. sure. okay jj.”

[silent-stories]

𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐

Summary: You keep sleeping next to Dean, maybe this will finally lead to something else, one night.

Pairing: Dean × F!Reader 

Warning: mentions of death and blood, hurt!dean, fluff

Word count: 1203

Author’s Note: Did anyone need a part two? Absolutely not. Did I write it anyway? Yes.

First part here

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After the night Dean came to your room, when he had a nightmare, he had come several more times that you lost count. Not every night, only when he couldn't sleep or just because he wanted to have you close to him.

Sometimes he would put his head on your chest as you run your hands throught his hair and he would fall asleep like that, listening to your heartbeat, other times he would hold you with his arms around you, pushing you close to him.

You never told him that every night you hoped to hear him knock on your door and that every time he didn't you would fall asleep waiting for him.

This time, however, was different. Very different. During a hunt Dean was injured by a werewolf and you found yourself in the back seat of the Impala trying to keep Dean awake while Sam drove as fast as he could to a hospital.

You helped him lie down and he put his head on your lap, you kept stroking his hair and telling him it was going to be okay all the time. When he closed his eyes, tears began to flow from yours, which stopped only when the doctor, about an hour later, told you that Dean would be fine.

When they let you, you entered the white room where Dean was staying.

"Hey." He smiled at you when he saw you.

"I hate you." It was the first thing that came to you to say.

"Thanks, just what I wanted to hear." He replied rolling his eyes.

"You could have died!" You bursted out.

"Who cares." He said, almost to himself.

"I care, Sam cares." You said as your eyes filled with tears again. "Don't try to do that again! Do you know how I felt when you lost consciousness on me in the car? Your hand stopped holding mine and you were losing a lot of blood! I thought you were dying!" You kept saying as a sob left your mouth.

"No, no sweetheart don't cry. I'm sorry, come here." He said softly, opening his arms for you.

You sat on his bed and softly hugged him, careful not to hurt him.

"I don't hate you, Dean. I'm sorry." You whispered after a while, Dean's arms holding you tight to him.

"I know." He said simply, moving a lock of hair that had fallen on your face.

You stayed next to him all night, even though he told you you could go home with Sam. The next morning, when you woke up, you were still in his arms.

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Once, you slept next to Dean when you stopped at a motel where the heat broke down.

"Y/N, sweetheart, what's going on? You're shaking." Dean asked you that night, keeping his voice low so as not to wake Sam in the bed next to his.

"I'm cold." You said without turning to him.

For a moment, you didn't get an answer and you thought he probably decided to ignore you, then you heard your bed mattress lower as Dean sneaked into your bed. He wrapped you in his arms and pushed you against his body, you found yourself with your back pressed against his chest. Dean's body always gave off a pleasant warmth, you thought as he tucked the blanket around you.

"Better?" He whispered in your ear. You blamed the cold for the shiver that ran down your back.

"Mh-mh." You muttered nodding.

You heard Dean chuckle before you felt a kiss between your hair.

"Goodnight sweetheart."

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You and Dean slept in the same bed in a motel one more time, after a hunt went south. You had managed to kill the wendigo, but not before a little girl was killed, she bled to death in a pool of her own blood. All the way to the motel Dean hadn't spoken and he hadn't even turned on the radio in the car.

At the motel, you found a room with two beds and when you walked out of the bathroom after taking a quick shower like Dean did earlier, you found him lying on a bed, staring at the ceiling. You said nothing and turned off the light, getting into the other bed.

You tried to sleep for a while, but you felt that something was wrong, opening your eyes and turning to the other bed you found Dean in the same position you left him, his open eyes staring at an indefinite point, his hands clenched into fists.

"Dean." You called him.

"I just can't sleep. It's okay." He answered quickly.

"You're not even trying." You said.

"It's my fault that that little girl died, how can I sleep?" He sighed, he really looked exhausted.

"It wasn't your fault, De. You couldn't have known there were two wendigos." You said sitting on your bed.

"If it wasn't my fault then why do I feel so bad?" He whispered.

"Can I come there? Please?" You asked pointing to his bed. He stared at you, some moon rays filtered through the window lighting up his face for a moment, then he just nodded.

Lifting the blanket, you sneaked into Dean's bed, snuggling up next to him. He didn't move.

"Dean, whatever your head is telling you right now, it's not true. It wasn't your fault." You said, your low voice had a slight echo in the room.

When his gaze finally met yours, you smiled.

"Don't make me tickle you." You said.

"And since when you are the one who tickles?" He said as the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

"Since now." You giggled as your fingers reached his side.

He laughed before he quickly grabbed your hands to make you stop. "Don't even think about it, I'm the one tickling here, not you." He said as his fingers reached your stomach and you couldn't help but laugh.

"Okay, okay enough." You said when you had tears in your eyes. "Dean! Stop it!" You added when he didn't quit.

"See? I'm the one who tickles here. Not you." He said smiling at you, wiping a tear that ran down your face as his hand lingered for a moment on your cheek.

"Thank you for always being there for me." He whispered after a while.

"Well, now you're smiling. Mission accomplished." You said settling next to him again.

"And your "mission" was to make me smile?" He asked you raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I don't like seeing you down." You said as his arm wrapped around you and brought you as close to him as possible. You rested your head on his chest.

"And you have a contagious laugh, do you know that?" You added.

When he didn't answer, you looked up at him, did you say something wrong?

You didn't have time to meet his gaze that his lips collided with yours. Your mouths kept moving against each other as Dean ran one of his hands through your hair and you brought yours to his face and neck.

"God, it's much better to kiss you when you're awake." He told you when you broke the kiss as your lungs needed air.

"Wait, what?" You asked confused, trying to figure out if it was possible that Dean kissed you when you were asleep and trying not to smile at the idea.

"Oopsie." Dean laughed as his lips met yours again.

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Tags: @eevvvaa @spn730015 @supernatural111222 @youcancallmelily @clairenovakanddeanwinchester @dads-on-a-hunting-trip @3amstillawake @supernaturalmess @marvelandsupernatural @agirlwatchingalotoftvshows

[to-the-stars8]

Learning to Love Slowly

Parings; Jason Todd x Female Reader (1) Pride and Prejudice and Hair (2) Seven-Eleven Karens and Pinky Promises at 3 AM (3) Google and Hand Holding (4)Cookies and The Butler and The Girlfriend (5)Push-Ups and Hoodies (6) Slushies and Happiness and Pizza (7)Book Recommendations and Jane Austen

8- Gotham Mornings and Daydreaming

Sometimes, mornings in Gotham were beautiful. In a city that was constantly run by ugly nights, it was welcomed. When the sun rose just above the tallest building in the city, illuminating the few, hidden beauties, there was a moment of quiet. During the best hours of the morning, most people would be at work, leaving the birds to have their songs echoing in the parks and against the tallest buildings. The city also seemed greener since the sun hit trees lining the streets or in the parks just right, and everyone seemed happier. It was for a few hours that the people of Gotham, who had been so used to loud nights, could be reminded that there was actually a bit of peace in the world. 

One morning, when Jason had actually gotten enough sleep to be up at a normal hour, he went to you. You were in the middle of making coffee when he arrived, still trying to shake the sleep from you, and handed him a mug before telling him to follow you to your room. Jason sat as he watched you open the curtain, letting the sunlight pour in, before taking your seat next to him. As he took a sip of the coffee, he noticed it smelled sweet, like most things you liked. 

“You slept well?” You asked in almost a whisper despite being just the two of you. 

“Yeah.” He had, that wasn’t a lie, but Jason also left out the part that was after spending most of the night thinking about you. 

Laying back against the pillows, you watched as far as you could outside your open window. The only thing you could see from where you sat was the windows of the apartments across the street. The people you could see, leaned out onto their fire escapes for an early morning smoke or to drink their coffee. Others ran by their windows getting ready for the day. 

“Is this how you spend most of your mornings? Staring?” Jason asked.

You spoke softly, still. For a moment Jason wondered if this was how you sounded every morning. “Yeah. I’m more daydreaming than watching.”

Jason hummed, watching for a moment longer before finding your hand to hold it. You broke your eye contact with the windows to look at him. 

“Honeybee,” You said sweetly. “Your hands are cold.”

Somehow, for some reason, the rest of Jason was warm, but his hands were always cold. Jason flexed his fingers, before relaxing them against your hand again. “Cold heart, I guess.”

You weren’t amused by the joke and rolled your eyes instead of saying anything. Yawning, you set your mug down onto the nightstand before rolling over onto your side, looking up at him with those gorgeous eyes of yours. 

“Lay down with me?” 

Jason looked at the mug in his hand, thinking of how he would answer. Did he want to? Yes, but the nagging way in the back of his mind didn’t want him to. Chewing on his bottom lip, he decided to ignore the voices in the back and got comfortable next to you. Jason laid a good half arm's length away from you, on his back so he wouldn’t have to stare into your eyes. He wasn’t sure how long he could last under your gaze before melting. When he felt your hand, still wrapped in his, move onto his chest his heart fluttered instead of tightened. 

“What are you doing today?” He whispered. 

You scooted a bit closer and Jason didn’t mind. “I have work at noon, but, luckily, it’s a short shift. To make up for some lost hours.”

“Hm, then, I can take you out for breakfast, if you want.”

When Jason looked over at you, in the sunlight coming through the window, he could see you blush just a bit. He brought up a hand to brush against your hair and you grinned. 

“Breakfast sounds great right now.”

Maybe Jason could wake up at normal morning hours more often.