#i really only had one moment of 'OH SAINTS SOMEONE'S GONNA ASK ABOUT MY JOB'

[kanerallels]

In my hubris I didn't realize that in going to this funeral, a bunch of my mom's family friends would be there and they would have Questions about what I'm doing with my life

[memetaped]

star trek: deep space 9 taken from the tv show.

come on, let’s get you home. 

looks like you need a new bandage. 

it’s good to see you got your appetite back.

you��re lucky you only got singed.

i need to know that you’re here, safe. that way, a part of me will always be safe, too.

get your hands off of me, before i do something i’ll regret.

we’ll see each other again soon. that’s a promise.

whatever it is you’ve been through has taken its toll.

that boy’s life is in our hands, and i won’t let anybody give up on him.

there are too many ways to get into serious trouble here.

get some hot chocolate and tell me about it.

you can channel your feelings of aggression in other ways.

this is important. you and i. things change, but not this.

you’re a great boy, you know that?

you have to leave me here and go on by yourself.

but the thing about dreams is, if you talk about them, they kind of go away faster.

now that kid is here under my protection, and i swear, if you do anything to hurt them, i will make you regret it. is that clear?

everyone has to have someone to confide in, someone to hear their stories.

my heart is too big.

the boy’s in a lot of trouble.

everything’s gonna be all right, but you have to try and stay awake for me.

if you were hurt, i’d leave you behind.

hold on, i’m not finished with you.

my dear, you should not be here.

it’s just a nosebleed.

hey, who said anything about being scared?

everyone went out of their way to look after me.

it takes a lot of courage to admit you’re wrong.

you run now, i won’t be able to protect you.

give me that before you hurt yourself.

i don’t need counseling, or relaxation, or time to adjust. i just want to be left alone.

get out.

and i am gonna pray, because i don’t know what else to do.

care for a root beer?

i’ve always loved you. even when i hated you.

before you volunteer too quickly, understand what you’re getting into.

do not hug me.

mom?

i’m not afraid, papa.

you’ve been so kind to me.

i’ve said my piece. sorry for butting in.

you know, why don’t we just call it a day? you obviously have other things on your mind.

i feel sick when i eat. i have pains in my head, in my chest.

you keep moving around, you won’t need any nurse.

i’ve known nothing but violence since i was a child.

what the hell has gotten into your head?

so, now you’re hiding things from me?

i think i could handle some soup.

save your strength

a sharp knife is nothing without a sharp eye.

so, my young friend, what do you think we’re looking at?

confession is good for the soul.

i’m gonna stay here, take care of the wounded. that includes you.

that’s a very personal question.

is this some kind of joke?

look at me. i need to know you’re going to be all right.

hold on, i’m not finished with you.

continually distracted, depressed, and agitated.

you always tighten your brow just a tiny bit whenever you’re about to ask a question.

it’s so small even i can’t stand up in there. look, i’m developing a slouch.

the one good thing about going away is coming home.

you don’t want me hanging around here? fine. i’ll do my thinking someplace else.

i don’t know who’s going to hear this. i don’t even know if i’ll be alive by the time this log is recovered.

we have rights, including the right to be as stubborn or thickheaded as we want.

i know it’s too difficult to speak right now. just rest.

you might say it came to me in a vision.

what are you doing up? you’re supposed to be in bed.

i’ll miss you.

and you’ve got a lot of nerve complaining about being cold when you’re the one wearing the jacket.

the last thing i want is to become a burden to you.

rudeness will get you nowhere.

okay? i’ve forgotten “okay.”

keep your eyes and ears open, follow orders, and try not to get in the way.

it’s not a trick, it’s a choice.

that’s how i think of you. and maybe that’s why sometimes, it’s hard for me to relax around you.

it’s a treatment, not a cure. it’ll prevent hallucinations, take the edge off the depression, but that’s all it’ll do.

you know, that was a very ugly thing you just said.

right now, my head is swimming in bloodwine and i’m going to bed, and so should you.

i’m a little tired. didn’t get much sleep last night.

i appreciate your concern, but i’ll grieve in my own way, in my own time. 

we’ve come to care about what happens to these people.

i know that you’ve been working with the maquis, and right now, i don’t care.

are you some kind of anarchist?

when you take someone’s life, you lose a part of your own as well.

home! i want to go home!

besides, i could never live with myself if something happened to you.

now we either freeze to death or starve to death. take your pick.

isn’t there someone you can talk to? someone you trust?

that’s right. it’s okay. everything’s going to be fine.

take my word for it, you’ll survive.

i don’t know about you, but it’s past my bedtime.

do you want to come color with me?

look, i’m not asking you to like me or to be my friend. i’m asking you to join me, to fight at my side.

sealing the entranceway was a risky thing to do. you nearly brought the whole ceiling down on yourself.

i can’t feel my legs.

“a needle in a haystack” wouldn’t do this job justice.

you ought to get some rest.

don’t deny the violence inside of you. only when you accept it can you move beyond it.

make sure to put your plate in the replicator, sweetie.

you know, it’s attitudes like that that keep you people from getting invited to all the really good parties.

i feel like someone just walked over my grave.

we need to get you to the infirmary.

enough. you’re pushing yourself too hard.

if that’s how you remember it, you must’ve hit your head harder than i thought you did.

you should take a break. you’ve been working nonstop for days.

well, you tried being alone and it hasn’t done any good. so maybe it’s time to stop brooding and start talking.

are you part of my family?

my leg is broken.

i’ve been looking all over for you.

you’re suffering from a severe form of amnesia.

speak up for yourself while you’re here, okay?

things that would send cold chills down your spine and wake you in the middle of the night.

i’m the one who should be struggling to stay conscious. i’m the one who’s in excruciating pain.

not just a bad dream – bad memories.

are you two fighting again?

i don’t want your sympathy and i don’t need your advice!

you stay a while longer if you want to, but you have to promise me, when the time comes and i tell you to go, you’ll do it.

look, i know it’s too late for an apology. but for what it’s worth, i’m sorry.

why don’t you go to your quarters and lie down for a while?

everyone keeps looking at me. they’re afraid of me.

i’d never felt more alone in all my life.

i’m half-frozen. i haven’t eaten for days. my muscles won’t work anymore!

what you experienced was an artificial reality, an interactive program that created memories of things that never actually happened.

what could be more important than dom-jot?

i’m not sleeping. i’m checking my eyelids for holes.

i’ve found that when it comes to doing what’s best for you, you humanoids have the distressing habit of doing the exact opposite.

you’re going to give yourself indigestion.

speaking of pain, this is probably going to hurt.

i never thought i would say this to you, but you are listening to your heart, not your head.

would you please go on vacation and get out of our hair?

you should take things easy for a while. 

i wish there was something i could do. some way i could promise you that everything is going to be okay.

i’ve done some things i’m not proud of. 

i want to stay with you.

my weakness is i’m too generous, too forgiving.

oh, this is one stubborn infection. how long have you had it?

just to “speak up for myself”, i’m feeling a little betrayed here.

the best way to survive a knife fight is to never get in one.

you can annoy me, bait me, question my very existence. but in the end, we both know i’ve won.

i haven’t seen one of these since i was a kid.

it’s a good weapon – solid, simple. you can drag it through the mud and it’ll still fire.

i’m sorry, i hope i haven’t offended anyone.

little children do that.

you know, eventually, you’re going to have to stop talking and deal with this.

if you come with me, you can be a soldier again.

i still wish you’d given me a little more warning.

you can’t expect me to cure it overnight.

i used to dream about you coming to save me. that’s what kept me alive.

you’ve never had those feelings. you don’t know what it means to really care about another person.

let me put it another way. i don’t want to play cards, and even if i did, i wouldn’t want to play with you.

what’s next? do you want to apologize to me? express your sympathy?

i think you went to your quarters last night and you tossed and turned in bed, because you knew some of the things you said to me concerned me.

you’ve got all the emotions of a stone. no offense.

because i have the bad habit of telling the truth even when people don’t want to hear it.

i’m always suspicious of people who are eager to help a police officer.

for as long as i can remember, i have always been an outsider.

you were wounded. try not to move around.

terrorists don’t get to be heroes.

i’ve never needed a friend more than i do right now.

i cried for you. i missed you so much.

we need to stop the bleeding. we better get you up to the ship.

i’m not afraid of you.

for the moment, why don’t you relax? try not to be so tense, take it easy.

we don’t belong in this time. we’re from the future.

you federation types are all alike. you talk about tolerance and understanding, but you only practice it towards people who remind you of yourselves.

now, i think we should concentrate on getting you comfortable with this weapon.

out there, there are no saints, just people – angry, scared, determined people who are going to do whatever it takes to survive, whether it meets with the federation’s approval or not.

yeah, i just banged my head on something.

it’s life. you can miss it if you don’t open your eyes.

i should have known you’d develop feelings for these people you’ve been living with for the past few years.

there’s nothing you can do. um, i just need some time.

i’ll teach you. it’s a very simple game.

you don’t deserve it. nobody does.

and you want to know why you don’t scare me? because i’m already more scared than i’ve ever been in my life.

oh, please. i’m suffering enough without having to listen to your smug federation sympathy.

i know what it’s like to worry about a child.

last night, it sounded like a takaran wildebeest was tromping around up there.

do you remember my face? even a little?

between you and me, those people have every right to defend themselves.

there’s a time for levity, my young friend, and a time for genuine concern.

why? why do you care so much?

i have to save you from yourself.

just because a group of people belong to the federation, that does not mean that they are saints.

life is yours for the taking. all you have to do is reach out and grab it.

no one on this station is better than anyone else. we’re all equal.

that’s why i came to you, because i knew you’d protect me. you will protect me, won’t you?

just because we don’t understand a life-form, doesn’t mean we can destroy it.

oh, we’re all very good at conjuring up enough fear to justify whatever we want to do.

it’s an expression of affection that you find difficult to accept.

look, i just don’t want anything to happen to you.

as your friend, i have to tell you i’m worried about you.

have i ever told you how much i hate that smug, superior attitude of yours?

and as for bedside manner, i’ve known nicer voles.

you’re the terrorist. you tell me.

i repaid kindness with blood. i was no better than an animal.

you don’t know what it means to care about someone, do you?

i’ll try to keep my problems more quiet next time. 

are you sure you’re all right?

oh, i slept like an alvanian cave sloth.

just watch your back. you’re in danger.

the thing i don’t understand is why you pretended to be my friend.

i have to say goodbye to you.

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 13

Masterlist

Thanks to @acollectionofficsandshit​ for being my bestie and beta reading! This would have never happened without her ❤ Make sure you read Roman Profile, set in the same universe!

Word Count: 6.7k

Recommended song: "Cupid’s Chokehold/Breakfast in America” by Gym Class Heroes

"I have to go."

"Can't you stay five more minutes?"

"I wish."

"Come on, just a few more minutes to cuddle." Pierre flings back the fluffy duvet and holds out a hand. "Please?"

"I have an exam," you say with a sigh but bend to press a kiss to his upturned palm. "I can't skip."

Pierre groans and slings an arm over his eyes. "What am I supposed to do all day?"

"I don't have a sim but I have an old PlayStation you're more than welcome to use. I think I still have one or two games."

"That won't keep me busy."

"I'm sure you'll find something. Just stay out of trouble okay? I'd like to get my security deposit back when I finally move out of this hellhole."

"Okay," Pierre grumbles, sitting up to give you a quick kiss. "What time are you getting back?"

"Four. We can go out to dinner or something." You smooth a hand over his hair, smiling lightly. "Or we can go for a picnic and take a walk through Saint James Park."

"Sounds like a plan." He turns his head to kiss your palm. "I'll be counting down the minutes."

You roll your eyes but your smile contradicts the sass. "I'll be home before you know it. Love you, champion."

"I love you too, mon coeur."

He was endlessly grateful for how easily the two of you had fallen back into each other. When he had shown up at your doorstep he had expected there to be awkward pauses and minutes of tense silence, but there had been blissfully little of either. As the days bleed into each other, your relationship only gets steadier, closer and closer to what it used to be. Maybe it was because you had been the one to break the silence or maybe it was because he had thrown himself into his career into someone's bed- whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. He was simply grateful to be welcomed back into your life. He didn't plan on leaving any time soon.

Pierre allows himself a half hour of lounging in bed before forcing himself to get up and shower. Off weeks were hard; all he wanted to do was rest and recharge but he still had to follow his workout regimen and sleep schedule or he risked falling out of the habit, making it that much harder to get back in the groove come race week.

First order of business: clean the clutter you had shoved in closets and the spare room prior to his arrival the day before. Folding the three baskets of clean laundry took an hour, washing dishes another thirty minutes, and vacuuming the entire flat took twenty. Once the counters are spotless and there isn’t a stray sock to be found, he takes stock of your pantry and notes what staples you were running low on.

Two hours later he trudges back up the three flights of stairs to your apartment, arms laden with reusable bags packed to the gills with food. His legs burn and he's slightly winded from the excursion; at least that could count as his work out for the day.

He's just about to start slicing vegetables for dinner when his phone chimes with a text from his PR agent, Sylvie.

You're supposed to be in an interview now. Where are you?

"Oh shit." He scrambles for his laptop which of course was dead. He manages to plug it in at the dining room table and angle it so the background is mostly neutral, just a band poster framed behind him. He checks his hair before logging into the interview.

"There's the star," the interviewer says, far too chipper to be entirely genuine.

"Sorry, I was having connection issues." He queues up his signature sweetheart smile that gets him out of any squabbles. It works, the woman's irritation melting into a more easy expression.

"Let's just get right into it. Since we're low on time I'll jump right in, if you don't mind."

Pierre leans back. He had an inkling where this was headed. "By all means, please."

"We just saw news of your deal with Christian Horner- if you take seventh in this year's drivers championship, it looks like you're at Red Bull Racing next year. How does that feel after being publicly demoted mid-season in 2019?"

A smirk tugs at Pierre's lips. He had known this exact question was coming. He had debated how to answer it without starting waves and still remaining truthful. If there was one thing he prided himself on, it was his ability to be diplomatic when others may have let their egos get in the way.

"Obviously I'm grateful that Red Bull has recognized the hard work I've been putting in at Alpha Tauri," he starts. "I think I've been able to push the car as far as I can but I still have pace in me, personally. So moving into the Red Bull would let me loose, so to speak, and give me a chance to prove that Red Bull is where I belong."

"Right, you have had quite a spectacular season so far with a race win under your belt and a few podiums for good measure. What do you attribute that success to? Why is it so different now in an Alpha Tauri versus that coveted second Red Bull seat?"

Pierre purses his lips. The answer he was expected to give wasn't one he was willing to voice. Instead he opts for neutral. "I've been able to focus and hone my driving this season. I've found a groove that works for me and with it has come an insane amount of confidence, which is something I struggled with for awhile after going back to Torro Rosso. I think it's really just that I'm finally comfortable in the car and with my team and that makes a huge difference."

"Thank you for that," the journalist says and Pierre nods. "Shifting gears, I have a few questions about your personal life if you don't mind."

This was the part he always dreads. Questions were often prying and he had to subtly skirt around them in a way that offered a satisfying answer without giving away too much. It was an art he liked to think he had perfected over the years but still didn't enjoy.

"As long as you don't mind me staying silent if I don't want to answer."

The woman laughs, the sound sharp and grating. "Of course. Unless I can bribe you into giving me an exclusive."

"Likely not. But you ask the right questions and we'll see."

"You've been seen hanging around a certain London neighborhood lately- that wouldn't have anything to do with you and your lovely lady, would it?"

He had been waiting for that one, too. When the two of you had returned from Red Bull headquarters he had noticed the man taking pictures across the street. He hadn't said anything to you at the time because really, there was no point in getting you worked up when he had a plan to handle it.

The question played right into his hand, in fact. 

Pierre sits forward, folding his hands in front of him. "Actually yes. We recently got back together and if you'll let me, I would like to make a request."

The woman leans back and checks her notes. "Well it's not quite what I had planned but please," she gives a flourish with a hand, "you have the floor."

"I know driver's personal lives are something that a lot of people are interested in and that's great. I don't mind sharing things with my fans or letting them get the inside scoop, but there's some things I would rather be left alone. My relationship is one of them. I know you all took note that she hasn't been around the past couple months and if I'm being honest, it's because of comments and press coverage that invaded her privacy. I think some people forgot she was more than just a name on a screen."

Pen poised to take notes, the interviewer prompts, "You said you had a request?"

He doesn’t stop to assess the damage he had already undoubtedly done. Sylvie was probably already on the phone doing damage control with every news outlet she could get her hands on, if her muted and black square at the bottom of the screen was an indication. 

"All I'm asking is that you leave her alone. If you have questions or comments you have to make, just direct them at me. Don't follow her around asking about me. Don't comment on her posts unless you're capable of being a decent human. Just… let her live her life in peace."

Maybe he was a love sick fool, but honestly he didn't care if he lost some support from fans. If they had such strong opinions on his personal life, he would be better off without them anyway. And his team could cut him and even if he was unable to secure a seat in Formula 1 after next season, he would survive. 

But if he lost you again, he would be broken. It had taken being apart from you for him to realize it and he'd be damned if he was ever disconnected from you like that again.

"That's quite the speech."

Pierre shrugs. "It was. She's the most important thing in my life, right up there with racing.” Now that he had started down the road of truth, he found it impossible to hold his tongue. “I lost her once because people couldn't be bothered to remember that their words have consequences. I won't let it happen again."

"So you see yourself with her for a long time then?" The woman's eyes glitter with the potential of getting an even juicer tidbit from him.

Pierre’s jaw sets, muscles feathering. "That's not something I'm prepared to discuss."

The woman purses her lips and tips her head to the side. There was clearly more she wanted to say. "Well, I have to thank you for what you've given me here. My boss is gonna love the exclusive. I won't push any further. Thanks for your comments, Pierre."

"Thanks for actually being respectful."

“We aren’t all monsters.” The woman shrugs. “I can’t say I haven’t had my moments but I try to be straightforward.”

“Right, yeah. I get that you have a job to do.”

“Anyway. I look forward to seeing what you can do the rest of this season. Good luck.”

He signs off and instantly anxiety washes over him. If she twisted his words he was screwed. Sylvie would be on the phone as soon as the article was printed, no doubt trying to soothe sponsors and investors. She'd give him an earful about being respectful and not poking the bear but he'd tune it out like he always did.

The sooner he got away from Red Bull, the better.

Instead of dwelling on it he busies himself with cooking. It was one of his guilty pleasures. He always requested a full kitchen when he was staying anywhere more than a few days so that if he had the chance to make a home-cooked meal, he had the option. For tonight he had selected his favorite recipe. Parmesan-Cesar chicken wasn't normally something you would ever touch with a ten foot pole but as long as he was making it, Pierre knew you'd at least give it a try.

Music blasting in the background, Pierre sings along quietly as he unpacks the rest of the ingredients and gets to work. He does a little spin between the island and the sink, rinsing the dishes and putting them right in the dishwasher as he uses them. A clean kitchen is the mark of a great chef, his mom had told him, drilling the phrase into him when he was young.

In the middle of cutting potatoes Pierre gets a call. He only has an hour until you're home so he doesn't bother stopping, just puts it on speaker and continues measuring spices.

"Hey Daniel."

"Heard you're in London," Daniel says, Australian accent thick. "And a little birdie told me you and your lady got back together."

"We did," Pierre says, a smile splitting his face. "Finally."

"Thank god, now I don't have to listen to your drunk woe-is-me rambling anymore."

Pierre laughs and sets aside the measuring spoons. "It's not that bad."

"Oh please." Pierre could practically hear the eyes rolling. "The number of times I had to send an uber to a bar after a grand prix is insane. Charles and I should be entitled to financial compensation with the amount of babysitting we've been doing."

"I can handle myself!"

"Not after a martini you can't."

He was right there. "Is there a point to this conversation?"

"Oh right- I'm actually in town today too, got some stuff to shoot for McLaren before we head to Austria for the race next week. You guys wanna come out with us tonight? We're heading to a bar or two."

"I actually had something planned-"

"She already said she's coming!" Dan's girlfriend shouts in the background.

“Well then why even ask me?”

“To be polite,” Daniel offers with a laugh. “We’re meeting at the rooftop bar at the Trafalgar hotel at seven. That give you enough time to do whatever you had planned that’s apparently more important than seeing your best mates?”

“We’ll be there,” Pierre says and hangs up. He finishes seasoning the potatoes and pops them in the oven, finally getting a chance to sit while they cook alongside the main course.

He's on his feet a few minutes later, decluttering the last bits of mess around your flat. It was clear it hadn't had a decent cleaning in quite awhile- hopefully you'd keep it tidy now that the effort had been made. The guys would tease him endlessly if they found out he was acting like a housewife.

You arrive home just as he’s setting the table. “God, it smells amazing in here.”

“Salut, mon amour.” Hands full with hot dishes, he settles for a kiss to your cheek. “I made dinner.”

“And you cleaned,” you observe. “You were a busy boy.”

“Pyry would kill me if he found out I was laying around all day. I had to do something.” 

You hang your backpack on the hook behind the door and take a seat at the table. “Well remind me to thank him again when I see him. This looks delicious.”

Pierre grins over his shoulder at you. “Me or the food?”

You throw your head back and laugh, loud and unrestrained. “The food, you goof.”

Pierre quirks a brow. "Is that the honest answer?"

"Okay, maybe both." 

The meal is filled with your ramblings about your exam and your new hobby- this month it was hiking. You went into detail about all the few trails in the city you’d been on as well as the more challenging ones that dotted the countryside. Pierre just nods along as you talk, already planning on staying up late to learn what he could about the topic so he could be a better conversation partner.

The pair of you work together to tidy the kitchen and put away any leftovers. “Did you bring something semi nice to wear tonight or do we have to make a quick trip to the store?”

“I’ve got some Tauri stuff I can wear. And not just team gear,” he adds when you groan. “You know that cream sweater you love? The one with the logo debossed on the front? I’ve got that.”

“Oh,” you say before biting your lip. Your eyes trail down his frame and back up like you’re imagining it on him. A tingle travels up his spine under your assessing gaze. If you kept that up, neither of you would make it out of the apartment tonight. “My favorite. Yeah, wear that. It’ll be on my floor by the end of the night.”

Pierre places his hands on your waist and grins. “Will it? And what will be on the floor from your closet, hm?”

“Your favorite dress.”

“The orange one?” He realizes half a second too late that you would never know how much he adored that dress from the gala. It had hugged your curves in all the right places and left your back exposed, which would leave him free to trace patterns on your soft skin whenever he pleased. He had missed out on worshipping you in it that night and he wouldn’t mind the opportunity to do so now.

You roll your eyes. “I can’t wear that to a bar.”

“Says who?” Pierre nuzzles his face against your neck, breathing you in. A light undercurrent of sweat from your walk home from classes mingles with the usual bright scent of you, only serving to rile him up further. Never in a million years would he have guessed that a simple scent could do him in, and yet here he was, completely wrapped up in yours. 

“Says me.” You sigh, tipping your head to the side when Pierre’s nose grazes your skin.

His lips follow until he reaches your jaw before he pulls back. “What one are you wearing then?”

“Does it matter?” You cross your arms, the smirk playing on your kissable lips tempting him.

“I have to mentally prepare myself.” And if whatever you chose was too sexy, he would need to get his handsiness out of his system before the pair of you met up with Daniel and his girlfriend. The last thing he needed was to be on the front of some seedy gossip column when his plan was to ease back into it. 

You smile up at him, broad and unrestrained as if knowing your answer would affect him greatly. “The cobalt blue one that makes you stutter.”

The dress in question was just as form fitting as the orange one, but shorter and decidedly more distracting. It fell mid thigh and the spaghetti straps left your shoulders exposed, which coupled with the low back displayed a downright sinful amount of skin. You had worn it at a Torro Rosso event a couple years back and he had scarcely been able to get a full sentence out around you all night. 

“That one’s a close second.” He follows you to your room, leaving you to hunt through the closet while he digs through his suitcase, thankful that he had the foresight to check out of his hotel on the way back from Red Bull and bring his things here.

Because there was no way in hell he was missing a second of being by your side while he was in town. Every moment had to count when he had no idea when he would be able to sleep next to you again, not when the season was nearly over and there were two double headers between now and winter break. When so many variables stood between him and you, he had no problem prioritizing you over a routine workout or a full night’s rest.

Pierre changes into the sweater and a pair of dark skinny jeans well before you emerge from the bathroom. He doesn’t bother responding to Dan’s text that includes an address and reminds him to be on time, instead opting to scroll through his instagram feed. He likes a handful of posts from his fellow drivers, including one of Max actually smiling at something off camera.

“Well?”

Pierre’s head snaps up at the sound of your voice. The phone falls from his hand when he drags his eyes over your body, head to toe and back again. 

Oh, he was so fucked. 

Maybe it was selfish, but with your hair done like that, the barest brush of makeup lining your eyes and in that stunningly blue dress, he didn’t want any other man to have the privilege of laying their eyes on you. 

No, you were all his.

The moment you’re within reach, Pierre places his hands on the back of your thighs, just beneath the curve of your barely covered ass. You chuckle and tap your fingers under his chin. “Close your mouth; you’ll catch flies.”

“Just so you know, if you wear that dress I can’t be held liable for my actions.” Up to and including scaring off anyone that wasn’t Daniel or his girlfriend. No one else deserved to be blessed with your radiance. Hell, he didn’t deserve it, and yet here you stood. 

“We’ll see about that.”

**********

Daniel and his girlfriend had already made their way through a round of drinks by the time you arrive. It wasn’t Pierre’s fault he couldn’t keep his hands off you and wound up getting distracted on the drive over.

"Late as always," she greets, kissing your cheek. "Dan got us here fifteen minutes early because he wanted the table with the best view."

"Like our names wouldn't have gotten us the table if we asked," Pierre says, wrapping Daniel in a one-armed hug before kissing his girl’s cheek in a traditional French greeting. "The view is pretty great though."

You were already leaning on the glass partition, hands curled over the edge and undoubtedly leaving behind fingerprints on the pristine surface, completely unfazed by the fact that the other patrons were staring. You had eyes only for the London skyline and Trafalgar square lit up below. The bar with its white marble tabletops and strict dress code was absolutely not a place that you should be standing on your tiptoes for a better view, but there was no way he could condemn you when your face lit up like that.

Pierre just places a hand on the small of your back and shoots a look at the bartender currently glaring in your direction, daring the smartly dressed man to say anything. He only raises a brow and resumes filling drink orders.

"You guys know how to pick a place," you say, "I could stand here all night."

"Right," Daniel's girlfriend says, rolling her eyes at Pierre who shrugs as if to say what do you want me to do? He was powerless to deny you anything that brought you a semblance of joy; your smile was everything to him. “Love, why don’t you come tell us about uni? You’re the only one of us currently enrolled, and I’m sure the boys would love to hear about all the drama.”

You and Pierre share a secret grin. You shake your head but allow him to guide you back to the cocktail table. “Drama? I’m an engineering major. The closest thing we have to drama is someone grossly miscalculating a structural load.”

Dan shoots Pierre a mischievous grin. “I heard Stroll might be moving next year-”

Both you and Daniel’s girlfriend groan at the same time. “No racing talk when we’re around tonight,” she says. “I’ve heard enough lately.”

“What’s new in the publishing world?” You ask, leaning into Pierre when he wraps an arm around you. He only half listens to her explain the so-called “top secret” project she’s currently working on, instead opting to get drunk on you. 

The light breeze filtering through the surrounding buildings ruffles your hair. You lift a hand absentmindedly to tuck it behind your ear in an attempt to keep it out of your face. Everything you do is amazing to him, snagging his attention even when he should be listening to whatever it was his friends were saying. Your gravity was simply too strong to bother resisting.

“Enough talk,” Daniel’s girlfriend says, waving a hand. “You need a drink, and I want to dance. Let’s go.” Before Pierre can protest, she’s dragging you away to the glass top bar. You throw an apologetic glance over your shoulder and Pierre just winks. He was fine watching you from afar for now.

Pierre’s gaze drops to your perky ass when you lean in to let the bartender know what you want, likely shouting to be heard over the music, your dress riding up a bit with the movement. For having such a strict dress code, this place sure did feel like an upper class club.

You hook your thumb over a shoulder, the bartender’s gaze darting to Pierre before the man nods. The only explanation you offer is a wink, followed by a note on a cocktail napkin and a beer delivered a few minutes later by a server.

This is supposed to be the best beer they have. Just try it.

Leave it to you to constantly push him outside his comfort zone. Pierre tentatively sniffs the foamy glass and shrugs before taking a sip. Not bad, but he still preferred his usual whiskey. 

Setting the glass down, Pierre turns back to Daniel. “Congrats on extending your contract with McLaren by the way. Should give you a decent shot at keeping up with the big boys and landing some serious points.”

“Seems like most of us are moving around, doesn’t it? Sainz to Ferrari, Seb to Aston Martin... The only one with any sort of long term commitment is Max and now me I guess.”

“And Charles,” Pierre adds. “He’s stuck in that red monstrosity for the foreseeable future.”

Daniel laughs, taking a swig from his glass. “And you’re moving too, huh? Austria should be interesting,” Daniel remarks, watching the girls at the bar nursing their own drinks. “What with the news of your new contract breaking and all.”

“Potential contract,” Pierre corrects. “Not for sure yet.”

Daniel scoffs. “Come on mate. You won’t have any problem getting up to seventh by the end of the season. Perez is slipping and the news that his seat is in jeopardy will only help your cause.”

Pierre takes a sip of his amber beer and nods. “I’m sure Perez doesn’t appreciate it, but he’s always been a good sport.” You catch Pierre’s eye and lift your fresh flute of champagne in a mock salute. Dan’s girlfriend drags you out on the dancefloor and immediately spins you. Your laugh is nearly audible, the memory of it fresh in Pierre’s mind as he watches you.

“Mate, have you been listening to a word I’ve said?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Daniel shakes his head and drains his drink. “I really don’t know how it took you two this long to come together. You’ve been dancing around each other for years but neither of you would admit it.”

“I could say the same about you two.”

Daniel shrugs. “Fair point. At least we got it all worked out in a weekend though.”

Pierre rolls his eyes and shoves his friend’s shoulder. “Whatever. Not all of us can have a perfect love story.” 

The grin Daniel shoots Pierre is pure sunshine. “How long are you planning on waiting before you ask her to marry you?”

“What?” Pierre sputters, nearly choking on air. “Who said anything about marriage?”

“Oh come on,” Dan says, rolling his eyes. “We all know it’s coming eventually.”

Pierre would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it. But he wasn’t sure if it was the time for a proposal, not when you had just gotten back together. The last thing he wanted to do was go through the pain of losing you again because he was too forward.

“One day at a time,” Pierre says finally, dragging himself back to earth. “I just got her back a few days ago. I don't want to scare her off by proposing just yet.”

“Right. Well you might want to get a ring on that hand sooner rather than later,” Daniel notes, gesturing to the two men who had approached the girls. “How long are we gonna let that go on before we step in?” Neither of you paid the men any attention, instead enjoying each other’s company, but the men’s eyes roaming over your body sets Pierre on edge.

“They can handle themselves,” Pierre remarks, shifting on his feet. The weak attempt at self assurance didn’t do much to negate the red tinting his vision. “They’re fine.”

“Her sharp tongue will hold them at bay,” Daniel says, winking at his girlfriend. “For a while at least.” Props to Daniel for possessing inhuman amounts of restraint, but Pierre’s muscles were coiled and ready to interject at the first sign of trouble. 

He has to pause to remind himself he doesn't own you. You could make your own decisions about who you spoke with and who you entertained as long as he was the one to take you home. He didn't care if you wanted to flirt; he knew it meant nothing and if you got a free drink out if it then so be it. But those were the rules: flirting, no touching. He'd step in if need be if someone took it too far.

But that didn't mean he had to enjoy it.

Pierre watches tight lipped as you politely chat with the man, your body language closed off and dismissive. Pierre hates that you even speak a word to him. He knows it shouldn’t bother him because he trusts you, but the stranger is a wild card. Pierre watches like a hawk as the man inches ever closer, slowly interesting himself into your personal space. He waits for you to take a step back, to grant him that silent permission to come over and insert himself in the conversation and get his hands on you, this proving you weren't on the market.

One of the men shouts something at you over the music and you leer back at him, clearly disgusted at whatever he had said. Whirling on him, you open your mouth, likely to snap out a profanity lined retort, when his hand latches onto your arm.

"Oh, fuck no."

Half a second later, Pierre is stalking across the dance floor, no thoughts other than teaching the asshole a lesson. His hands are already curled into fists, ready to swing if the man hadn't moved by the time he arrived. Tolerating someone hitting on you was one thing, but blatantly ignoring the clear dismissals and laying a hand on you? No way in hell was he standing by and letting that happen.

The resounding crack of your open hand hitting the man’s face has pride swelling in Pierre’s chest. That’s my girl. You’d solved the problem before he’d even arrived. You jab a finger in the man’s face, Daniel’s girlfriend right there with you to back you up.

“Fuck off,” you were saying as Pierre approached, “or do you need to go back to kindergarten and learn to keep your hands to yourself? Maybe next time you’ll think twice before laying a hand on a taken woman- or any woman, for that matter.”

Driving your point home, Pierre slips an arm around your waist and pulls you in until your back is flush to his chest. You crane your neck up, the tense muscles beneath his fingertips and the fury contorting your features confirming just how rattled you are.

The lines creasing your brow are soothed away when you realize who holds you. You open your mouth to say something but Pierre places a hand on your throat, thumb and forefinger framing your jaw as he cuts you off with a kiss, his eyes locked on the guy still standing off to the side holding his cheek. 

You taste like the champagne you’d been sipping all night. It’s the only thought in his head outside of the jealousy licking through his veins like wildfire as he claims you then and there in front of the crowd. Mine, his heart sings. He flexes his fingers, taking advantage of your surprised gasp to slide his tongue against yours. Mine, mine, mine.

Pierre lets you be the one to break away, lips curling in a smug, kiss-swollen smile as you address the men. “In case you still don’t get the picture, I’m not interested. And neither is she.” You jerk your chin, indicating your friend and Daniel, who had indeed followed Pierre and since mirrored his possessive stance, one arm wrapped tightly around his own girlfriend.

The two men reluctantly slink away after mumbling something unintelligible but undoubtedly indecent. It had been a week and a half since he had been on track and he had plenty of pent up aggression to get out. He didn’t normally opt for using someone’s face as a punching back as a stress reliever, but rulers were made to be broken. Your hand splayed on Pierre’s chest is all that stops him from following and asking them to repeat themselves.

“Just let me hit him,” Pierre says, voice far more level and put together than he had expected it to be. “Just one punch. That’s all I would need.” His knuckles smart like he had already connected them to the man’s face. 

“And let you throw away your contract? I don’t think so. The last thing you need is a blurry photo of you knocking someone’s teeth in hitting the front page of every gossip mag in the country. I’m fine, so you can cut the bravado.”

“Yeah, I hear you.” 

“I was wondering how long you were gonna leave us out here,” you say, trying to regain Pierre’s attention. When it doesn’t work, you grasp his stubbled chin and force him to look at you. “I didn’t expect to be stranded for so long.”

The eye contact is what finally calms his racing thoughts. Seeing the trust reflected in your face is enough to have his grip on your waist loosening to allow you to face him. “Someone convinced me you could fend for yourself. And while it seems that’s true, I couldn’t stand it anymore.” 

Your satisfied hum is swallowed by the pounding bass but Pierre feels it rumble in his chest. “Sometimes even a queen needs saving.”

Though his point had long since been proven, Pierre’s hand slides down your back to rest on your ass nonetheless. “I knew you going out looking like this would cause trouble.”

You tip your head to the side, feigning innocence as you press your hips to his. You grin, noticing the hard on that had been bothering him all night. “Looking like what?”

“Drop dead fucking gorgeous,” he says, accentuating his point by sliding his hand up your thigh and under the hem of your dress. “You know I’m tearing this off you the second we get home, right?”

“Why do you think I wore it?”

The sound that escapes him is primal and possessive. The presence of bystanders does nothing to prevent him from palming your ass and kneading the flesh. He presses his lips to your neck and mumbles between kisses, “To torture me.”

You push lightly at his chest, laughing although your eyes dart around the space in search of cameras. Old habits were hard to break. “That may have been part of my motivation. But you’ll have to wait. I haven’t seen Dan in forever and I would actually like to have a conversation with him before we sneak off somewhere.”

At least you knew he wouldn’t be able to wait until you got home to get between your legs. “Fine,” he grumbles, hands settling on your hips. “Only because I love you.”

You beam up at him. “Love you too.”

Arm still slung around your waist, Pierre nods at Daniel and follows the other couple back to the table.

After two more drinks, you and Daniel's girlfriend are singing along to the music in lilting, off key voices, simply enjoying the night air. A stray breeze catches your hair just as you turn to look at Pierre and his heart damn near leaps out of his chest.

To his credit, Pierre’s cheeks are rosy from more than just the charged glances you throw at him as the night wears on. He was on his fourth beer, far more than he usually drank these days, and the buzzing in his head was becoming increasingly hard to ignore. When he has to squint to tell the time on his watch, he figured that was enough.

"I should probably get going mate," Pierre says, turning to Daniel. "Early flight."

Daniel laughs and beacons for the girls. He kisses his girlfriend's cheek when she returns with you in tow. "Are we leaving already?" You pout, and Pierre had half a mind to stay simply have your smile make an encore appearance.

"Car coming," he murmurs, dipping his head to give you a proper kiss. God, you were stunning in that dress- he might not be able to string together words coherently, but he knew that much. 

"Fine." You cross your arms for a split second to convey your feelings on the matter before wrapping your friends in a hug and saying your goodbyes.

Pierre's hand is already on your ass before you're in the uber. Get a few drinks in the boy and he let his guard down. You laugh and pull out of his embrace to usher him into the sleek black suv. If he had been coherent, he probably would have chatted with the driver about the specs of the engine or maybe even racing if he was a fan. Instead the ride is filled with stolen touches and sloppy, wet kisses to your neck.

"I can't wait till we're home," he mumbles. "You're gorgeous. How did I snag you? You're so far out of my league. No way should you be with me."

"I have a thing for guys that go fast in circles on the weekends." 

"Really?" Pierre frowns. "Should I be worried?"

"No. You're the only one I have eyes for." His head is fuzzier than when you left the bar but your laugh breaks through, his stomach flipping at the melody of it. "And we are home."

Pierre blinks, realizing he does indeed stand in your kitchen, with no recollection of climbing the three flights of stairs between the street and your flat. "Oh. When did that happen?"

"After I half dragged you up the stairs." You bend over to undo the straps of your heels, giving him the perfect view. He lets out a whistle that ends in a hiccup.

"Take me to bed, lover," he says in what he thinks is a husky voice. It should be impossible for you to resist.

You roll your eyes and wrap an arm around his middle. "That's the plan. I'll take you to bed, strip you out of that sweater, and you'll be asleep before your head hits the pillow."

"Nnnnnno," he protests, hand sliding down your exposed back to settle at the base of your spine. "I wanna make the most of tonight. I leave tomorrow."

"You don't leave until noon," you point out. "Plenty of time to nurse your hangover and have fun before then, after you drink some water and get some sleep."

"But baby-"

"No buts. Do as I say or I'll send you off tomorrow without a goodbye kiss."

Even in his half drunken state he knew it was a swiss cheese lie, spotted with holes and completely stale. You'd never let him leave without a kiss goodbye because neither of you knew if it would be the last time. He was a race car driver after all, and that came with risks. 

But he sighs anyways and slips off the cream sweater, letting it fall to the floor. At least one of you kept their promises. 

After confirming he was settled into bed, you retreat to the bathroom. His heart aches at the absence, even though you're mere feet away with nothing but a thin door separating the two of you. He registers the sound of the tap turning on and your soft, off key humming of the last song he remembered hearing before getting out of the uber.

"Mon amour," he croons when you re-emerge in a set of silk pajamas. He reaches out his hands for you and you slide under the covers, immediately slotting your body against his. A leg hitches over his hip, tugging him closer until your middles touch.

"Mmm," he mumbles, nuzzling into your neck. "Je t'aime. Tu es l'amour de ma vie et nous vivons d'amour et d'eau fraîche."

"I have no idea what you're saying," you whisper, running your fingers through his hair. "But I like it. Feel free to keep going."

"Tes baisers sont du feu et je fond à ton toucher." He presses his lips to your neck before resuming his mumbled French. "Je pense toujours à toi. Je veux être avec toi pour toujours. Tu as mon cœur et je ne voudrais pas qu'il en soit autrement."

"I like the sound of that." You press a soft, sweet kiss to his forehead. God, that tenderness was why he loved you. That, and your personality, and your eyes, and your… everything. "Dormir, my love. I'll be here to listen to your pretty words in the morning."

The single word of his mother tongue on your lips has him smiling. "Oui, tu le feras. Parce que tu es à moi et je suis à toi."

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[usmsgutterson]

Certainly- Kaz Brekker

The reader is a bit of an astrology and astronomy alike geek for this, which I hope y’all don’t mind! Also, in this case, phones exist so lets pretend that phones exist in Ketterdam, making it a bit of a modern au, I guess!

Also, this’ll probably be a bit ooc for Kaz

Fic type- angsty fluff

Warnings- blood, mentions of death, and the reader is sick (nothing specific, I just kind of took random symptoms and made up a word for the sickness)

You were determined to see the stars before you went, and as you grew sicker, none of the crows knew when that would be, so, after a little convincing, the crows had gotten Colm to let you spend a couple of months at his farm in Novyi Zem, where the stars were the clearest at night, not burdened by light pollution or the screams of lively cities. 

It was the seven of you crammed into a basement, sharing beds, but none of them cared, and you were just glad to be with the people you called family. You were happy that they were with you, that Kaz was willing to wheel you everywhere when you got too weak to stand, that Jesper still made jokes, even despite watching you deteriorate. You were grateful for Inejs smile, Wylans music, Ninas impeccable tastes and Matthias and his big arms that could lift you and put you down without issue. 

The six of them had started taking shifts taking you outside. Nina took you outside Sunday nights, Matthias Mondays, Wylan Tuesdays, Jesper Thursdays, Inej Fridays and Kaz Saturdays. Wednesdays you rested up; ate when it was time to eat, used the bathroom when you needed, took a shower if it were the appropriate time, but other than that, you slept.

It was Kaz’s day to wheel you out, and you’d had a particularly rough day that day. Inej went with him, promising not to intrude on the time that you would spend together. She’d do backflips and run across the roof of the farm if you asked her to, but she’d not interrupt otherwise. 

“I love the stars,” you whispered, leaning back in your wheelchair and tightening the hold of the blanket over your lap. “Thank you both. For doing this.” 

“Don’t you worry, love,” Kaz murmured. “Just keep your eyes on the stars, okay?”

“We’re happy to do this,” Inej added. “All of us are. Really.” It was like both of them could sense it as well as you could. You had a feeling that the night would end terribly, just like the morning had begun.

You’d woken up only to need to rush to the toilet immediately, blood coming up your throat like bile, staining your skin and leaving your bottom lip red as a cherry. 

Kaz had been at your side in a minute, Nina and Wylan right behind him. Wylan kept your hair away from the sides of your face, Nina slowed your heartrate and Kaz wet a cloth with cold water to get your body temp down. 

Kaz had forced himself to stay in the moment, to not let his thoughts stray to the urge to sleep in the same bed as you to make sure that nothing happened while you slept--to be there in case something did--but to stay on the sun as it set and the faraway sound of Wylan playing his flute with the window open so that you’d be able to hear it. 

Once you’d gotten settled under a tree, Inej ran off, making her way inside and up to the barns roof, where she sat, keeping a watch from a distance as Kaz let you rest your head against his shoulder, gloved hand interlaced with yours. 

“I love you, Brekker,” you murmured. “Please don’t forget that. Ever.” 

“I won’t,” he whispered. “You’re gonna stay around and get better until we can spar again, and you can beat my ass even though I’ve my cane as a weapon.” 

“You know full well I can’t promise that,” you wished that you could. You desperately wished. “I’m going to die young, Kaz. I’m not gonna get to eighteen, much less eighty.” Kaz hated you for that.

He hated you because everything that you said somehow managed to be right. It was like you had a sixth sense for that kind of thing, and while, on missions, it proved useful, in that scenario, it just proved annoying. 

“You’re gonna make it to eighteen if it kills me,” he informed you. “I’ll take you around the globe if I need to, just to make sure you end up okay. I will not live a life without you in it, Y/N.” 

“You’re sweet,” you murmured. “Incredibly sweet.”

“Only to you, L/N.” That was the last bit of conversation for a long while as the sun set and the stars came out.

“Did you know that the moon isn’t circular?” You pointed lazily to it, bright and beautiful amongst the even brighter stars. “According to scientests, it’s actually shaped like a lemon!” Kaz didn’t fight his smile.

Of course you’d be spouting off the little factoids you knew about space. You loved it, how vast and crazy it all seemed. 

“And that the clouds at the center of the Milky Way smell like raspberries and rum?” Kaz snorted.

“Okay, now, theres no way that ones true!” 

“Oh,” you leaned up, booping his nose without a care in the world. “But it is! It’s in a study somewhere, I think! Look it up!” He laughed, pulling you closer to him as you rambled.

Inej had started doing running flips across the roof, spinning and dancing and no doubt laughing as she did. Kaz knew it was an elaborate effort to get you to smile, and it seemed to work as she moved; a delightful silhouette amongst a star filled sky. 

“I love you, Kaz Brekker,” you whispered. “You don’t need to say it back, but I really, truly do love you with every bone that exists in my body.”

“I love you too,” he said it without hesitation. “And I’ll love you until we’re old and grey, I swear it.”

“Don’t hold me to that promise,” you murmured. “You know how bad this is. Stop thinking that I’ll make it into the new year. I probably wont.”

“You will if it kills me, Y/N,” he gave your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I’ll drain the bank dry if I have to, I swear to Ghezen.”

You didn’t say anything after, too exhausted to even think about starting an argument with him, simply not wanting to. 

But then, an hour later, Kaz felt fear trickle into his stomach like it hadn’t ever in his life.

“And then theres Supernova. It’s like a star that’s dying having it’s last celebration. Like when we get a really big win, or when we get away with what we intended to get away with, and we all get shitfaced before we collapse onto our beds and sleep for the night? A supernova is a dying stars explosion. It’s the last celebration that the star has before it dies out.” you’d been rambling.

“Tonight is my... tonight is my...” Kaz had called for Nina right then and there, screaming her name while he felt you go slack against him.

“Zenik!” He screamed, not caring at all if he were to wake up Jespers father. “Zenik, call in that fucking favor with the bloody Ravkan prince!” Matthias came barreling out after her, phone in hand, already speaking to someone as Nina began working, steadying your heart and trying her hardest to keep you alive. 

Kaz had to force himself to walk away from it all, pushing his feet away after giving your shoulders one last squeeze and walking far out into the field. 

Once he was sure he was out of earshot, he couldn’t stop himself. Tears flooded his eyes and he found himself glaring at the sky, wanting to scream, wanting to shout, wishing that there was someone around that he could gut like a fish. 

“Saints,” he murmured through gritted teeth. “Sankt Ilya, Sankt Adrik, Sankta Alina of The Fold, I know I am a terrible person, but Y/N is not. They’re good, they smile, they laugh, they’re kind to others when those people probably don’t deserve their kindness. I know I’m damned, I know that you probably strongly dislike me, but they’re different.” He’d never asked the Saints for anything before, and he never would again.

“Please, just, let them live. Let them get the life that they deserve. I’ll do my best to make them happy, but you have to let me,” he wiped the tears from his eyes as they came. “They deserve the life that you’re so willing to take away, and all I ask is that you don’t take it.” He heard the sounds of the ambulance car and raced back to you, gripping your hand as they helped you onto a stretcher and out of the field, through the house and out the entrance. 

I won’t lose them, he told himself. A world without them is one that’s unbearable. 

O N E Y E A R L A T E R 

You laughed as Nina chased you through the halls of the Little Palace, running quickly through the endless corridors, your laughter carrying through them as you kept yourself in front of Nina.

Nikolai had kept you in the Os Altan palace since that night, where Inej laughed and danced and did her flips, whilst Wylan played the piano and Kaz sat beside you, listening to your ramblings without a care in the world. 

“You seem delighted,” Nikolai noticed as you stopped in front of his office. “I’ve never seen you walk without that Brekker boy at your side, much less run while Zenik is on your tail!” You shrugged, laughing as Ninas front crashed into your back.

“This is the best I’ve felt in a year,” you murmured. “I figured I’d see if Nina was up to chase me around this morning, and I haven’t stopped running since!” You peered in through the open office door, looking for that familliar mop of dark brown hair.

Nina wrapped her arms around you and gave you a gentle squeeze. “He’ll be here any minute,” she murmured. “He and the boys are just finishing up a job for Nik in East Ravka, but Matthias told me the second that they’d left!”

“Trust me. Y/N,” Nikolais smooth voice murmured. “I put them on one of my fastest boats. I knew how long it’d take them to get from here to east Ravka and back, and I promised him he’d be here when you finally awoke.” 

“Hows it feel, anyway?” Zoya appeared at his side. “Eighteen, I mean.” You shrugged.

“I miss Kaz,” you murmured bluntly. “I hate that I have to tell him that he was right, but I still miss him.” 

Nikolai took Zoyas hand, pulling her close as you and Nina watched, smiles on your faces. 

“Young love,” Zoya teased. “Zenik, let go of them so that they can turn around.” Nina obeyed, letting you go and moving to lean against the doorway with Nikolai and Zoya. 

You turned, and smiled when your gazes met. “You were right, Brekker,” you murmured, walking toward him as he held out your gift to you. “I’m better now, and the second that you’re ready to spar, I’m gonna beat your ass, even though you’ve your cane as a weapon.” He grabbed your pinky with his the moment you were within distance.

“How’d the heist go?” You murmured once the two of you had walked out of earshot. 

“Good,” Kaz let himself be close to you as you two moved, squeezing your pinky as you slowed your steps. “Plan went off without a hitch, for three idiots and a mastermind with a limp. I brought you this from it,” he held the gift out to you again, and you took it in your free hand, examining it.

“I had to ask permission for that,” he murmured. “I had to get the Ravkan kings seal of approval to steal that for you.” You laughed, looking it over.

It was a journal. Black and leather bound, pages crisp and untouched. A pen was tucked into the cover. 

“I promise, we’ll go home soon,” you responded. “I miss Ketterdam. I could go for some waffles.” 

“Don’t they have waffles here?” Kaz questioned.

“Not Ketterdam waffles, love. Ketterdam waffles are unlike any pathetic waffle from here! Doused in syrup and whip cream--” You let out a satisfied sigh. “So good it’s almost surreal!” Kaz smirked.

“Waffle date when you’re well enough to return home then?” 

“Certainly.”

[the-siren-and-the-sailor]

Tag list: @caloroso-cosmos @kissthe-gogoat Let me know if you wanted to be added or taken off!

Nadox once compared himself to Cain. I wonder now what it’d be like if they ever met. I’m gonna edit this to say that since Nadox is Sarkic, there’s gonna be mentions of gore. Mild stuff though, it’s only mentioned.

Can air become like lava’s equal?

It certainly did here. But then, it had easily tasted like bitter winter not a few weeks and several hundred leagues ago- the season’s fluidity by locale was more than typical for this eternal wanderer.

Yes, the man thought, I suppose it can. The sun was sweltering and the sand burned Cain’s feet, yet he did not falter between them. He did hope to find a town soon- he seemed to only ever stumble across one when he was most desperate. Forlorn of fresh water and conversation, Cain sighed and kept trudging.

A nearby hill obstructed vision of the continuing path in all directions, allowing a separate, similar man- one who in actuality, could not be any more different than his sunbeaten analogue- to be hidden in it’s gracious shadow.

He sat, cocooned in his cloak, not worried about anyone seeing the scroll he so plainly pulled out of his own body (he had several extra eyes grown around and about to watch for the prying ones of strangers).

Not enough, however, and he straightened upon finding that some blue-clad traveler had managed to evade him. By no means had they snuck up, but their progress was certainly noteworthy- only his serpentine little sister had ever managed that fully.

Regardless, he covertly tucked the parchment and the rest of his far-spread flesh back into a compact, human form again. Hopefully he would be ignored this way.

He was successful in replicating a mundane appearance, but was nevertheless a perfect fit for the other’s lacks.

“Hello there!” the person, a man, said with a voice that was distinctly… metallic, somehow.

Shrinking back into his coat wouldn’t work now, so he simply waved back as dismissively as he could. Of course, it was no use. But as the man approached, an odd thing became clear; it seemed at first that his skin tone differed from face to limb, but this was in fact, not skin at all. The tinny clicking of his ankles proved that.

“I was beginning to lose hope of finding my way, but it seems the gods have been merciful. You wouldn’t happen to have a map, would you? I’m afraid I may have lost my way.”

Gods, plural? Perhaps the assumption that this was just another Mekhanite was incorrect. What a strange occurrence. The cloaked sage shook his head. He did possess one, but would rather not be forced to speak, let alone quite literally spit it out.

“Oh that’s unfortunate,” he paused for a moment, a finger sheathed in leather curved to his chin in thought. The loose sleeves of his tunic fell around his elbows. If he was trying to cover up his metal parts, he was doing an extraordinarily terrible job.

“Well, you must’ve gotten here somehow. Do you know where the nearest dwelling is?” From Cain’s perspective, this fellow was being more than slightly suspicious, and he was curious to draw the conversation out.

The cloaked man simply pointed down the path. Cain was about to give up and be on his way, when a thought seemed to occur to the other, and he reached to his side. It struck Cain that he had not yet seen the man’s face.

He faced back a moment more, this time producing a parchment and quill (from where?), and simply wrote on it, Forgive me, I cannot speak. Turning his head, it appeared that his mouth was coarsely sewn shut with thread.

“I’m terribly sorry. If I have been a bother at all-” but the mute shook his head, returning to the writing, coming back with a, Who are you?

And he meant the question. What was someone like this doing out, alone, in the hot desert? He had a hunch, but-

“My name is Cain, I come from far away. You seem to as well. And who might you be, if I may ask?”

Cain? Certainly not that Cain. Well, it made some semblance of sense. But in that case…

Certainly you know already, he wrote.

This only served to confuse Cain. He didn’t- should he have? Oh, if he should’ve, it would’ve come across as so very rude.

“I hate to say it, but I do not. Could you perhaps elaborate?”

I fear I would frighten you away with the only method I have for a voice.

“I’ve had conversations in strange ways before. Whatever it is, I’ll understand.”

Instead of responding by text, the man stood to his full height, several inches taller than Cain, and motioned for them to walk. Cain, still confused, obliged.

After only a few paces, the gaunt man turned his head, still in step, divulging his brilliant orange eyes. A voice, silvery yet brittle, rang through his mind. “I am Klavigar Nadox. Perhaps you recognize me now?”

Cain stumbled and gulped. Oh, just his luck that his only company was a Sarkic saint! “Oh my, I do. I mean you no harm, I swear! I was travelling to visit my cousin, I only met you by accident-”

“I heard stories of you as a child. Perhaps you even inspired me, in a way. Are you truly the son of Adam? King of Canaan, the Reassembled One?”

Cain stared at Nadox, a mixture of expressions along the lines of confused fear on his face. The henchman of Ion himself, simply… talking?

“I don’t understand. Am I not your enemy?” Cain paused, trailing off and warily eyeing the other.

“You tell me.”

“…”

Well, this was awkward. Nadox, while wanting to know more about Cain, was really just as scared of him as he was of him. Derdekeas had been formidable, and he was just a man- this, on the other hand, was no less than a demigod.

“Do I have to be?” Came Cain’s response. Ah, there it was. A note of distinctly regal conviction.

Cain’s mind was, in all honesty, made up before they met- for he had also heard stories of Nadox. The Flesh was not the be all, end all of evil, nor was Bronze designed to be its foe. This was not a confrontation: it was a learning opportunity.

“I don’t suppose you are, then. If this is true, then I am not yours.” He really wasn’t. It was rare to cross an immortal’s path, why mire the chance with old tired conflict of broken and dying gods? Surely Ion could not be upset with this bid for knowledge, upon his return.

“Well then. Would you care to walk with me? I’m sure I am as curious of you as you are of me.”

“I am, and I would.”

Yes, this was a shining arrangement. The only problem was…

“A moment. Does this restless wanderer’s feet always know where to take him?”

“They don’t usually do an especially decent job, no.”

“I’ll give you a map if you promise to remain level-headed despite its whereabouts.”

Cain’s nod quickly turned to gagging upon the sight of the paper’s… method of containment. Was this how all shepherds of the flesh kept their documents? It begged many questions that the metal man did not particularly want answers to.

But then, Nadox had bristled later on, when Cain unlocked a compartment in the metal of his leg to retrieve a quill and compass.

Clearly, they each had much to learn.

[jadedxrealityw]

-Second And Third Chance- Tony Stark x Female Reader

    ☼-☪-☼

   Kody: favorite dilf- i’m sorry lmao

   Movie/Show: after endgame. but no one is dead because i’m still in denial.

   Summary: (Backstory included) Being the fiancee of Tony Stark was all you could dream of, but not everyone is perfect and Tony is certainly no saint. Even with Thanos being gone, Tony is still obsessing on how to keep you safe from other worldly beings, but due to his own ignorance ends up losing you all by himself. 

   Possible Triggers / Warnings: angst with fluff ending, cursing, Tony being Tony, F.R.I.D.A.Y and Wanda being your besties lmao, 

    ☼-☪-☼

   you wondered how you were ever came across such a man. Narcissistic, arrogant, just completely full of himself in every way possible. You had met the infamous Tony Stark at a shield ball/party so long ago. He was charming, you’ll admit, but you were fully aware of his playboy status. 

   you wore a long black off the shoulder dress that started skin tight at the top and flowy at the bottom, also sporting a slit down the side of the dress. Some said hi and gave you compliments on your outfit. You wanted to find Fury so you could talk to him as he was the only person you really knew. 

   walking along the floor a woman holding a platter of drinks offered you one and you gladly accepted it. You spotted Fury a few tables away, talking amongst Natasha Romanoff and Steve Rogers. Once you made it over, you slipped yourself into a empty seat. 

   Fury noticed you first and patted your shoulder “Didn’t think these parties were your scene Agent L/n” he spoke with his usual formality. You hummed into the glass of wine as you took a sip “They are not, but i needed a reason to drink” you admitted, earning a chuckle from Natasha. 

   you then took the time to look at both of them and smile “Natasha Steve. Still doing the whole saving the world thing?” you say. Steve cracks a smile and nods once “The world can’t seem to give us a break” he says. A chuckle bubbled in your throat “Not that you would take it though, right cap?”

   you four spent a good thirty minutes talking about the usual, until Maria Hill showed up then you got to talking about new missions that he Fury only trusted you all with. You were like Fury third in command. Someone Maria had recommended if something would have ever happened to her. 

   not to long Natasha and Steve had left the party earlier then expected, but they were always in the rush. You, Fury, and Maria were now standing next to the table. Maria’s phone rang and she slipped it from her bag and pressed the green button “Yes?...Give me ten minutes” 

   she hung it up and put it back in her bag. Fury looked at her with a questioning stare “I’m going to assume Romanoff or Rogers were on the end of that line. Would the rest of us be needed?” he asked. Maria shook her head “No. Just a minor problem. I’ll call if it escalates”

   Fury nods once and gestures with his head to the exit, dismissing her. They were so loyal to each other. Maria then sends you a polite smile before exiting the ballroom. You placed your cup on the table were you all resided minutes ago “Should we be concerned?” you ask. 

   he shakes his head “They’ll be fine. I like to come in at the end anyway, makes me alluring” he says, making you stifle a bit of laughter. “Right” you agreed not really wanting to dwell in that subject. Only seconds later is when an unfamiliar voice spoke “Nick”

   both you and Fury turn around and see the nice tailored suit belonging to the less nice man of Tony Stark. Fury cracks a small grin and holds his hand out “Stark, fashionably late” he points out. Tony grabs his hand and shakes it “Well if i wasn’t i’d be stuck looking like you losers.”

   did this grown man just call you both losers? Okay then. You folded your arms over your chest, not really paying much attention to there very testosterone filled conversation. Tony eyes removed themselves from Fury and looked at you “and who is this?” he asked. 

   you removed your eyes from the people walking past you and looked towards the billionaire “ This is Agent L/n. works alongside Agent Hill and myself” Fury explains. You give Tony a polite nod “It’s Y/n L/n” you say. Tony grins and went to say something more when Fury coughed. 

   “I’m going to use the bathroom. Tony don’t be weird” he spoke before leaving you both by your lonesome. Great. “May i offer you another drink?” he asked and you shook your head “I already had one and i have to be alert at all times. It’s in the job description. Very fine print”

   “Sounds like you need a vacation or a xanax” he makes a face, earning a small smile from you “Maybe, but i like my job too much” you reply. Tony steps to the side and gestures with his hand for you to walk. You didn’t see much wrong with that, just a friendly stroll. Why not. 

   you step in forward and Tony lifts his arm up a bit for you to link yours. ‘What a charmer’ you thought before slipping your arm through his. YOu both began to walk slowly through the ballroom “So what does your significant other think about how much you work?” he asked. 

   ‘very slick’ “I don't have a boyfriend or girlfriend at the moment. Tried dating on the job, but no one really understands how much working here changes you in a way” you explained, Tony nodding along with your answer. Being an Agent had its perks and downfalls. 

   “Why did you get into this line of work, if you don’t mind me asking?” Tony questions. It was strange seeing him be so genuine with his wording, the complete opposite of what Fury, Steve, Natasha, or Maria had to say about him. It was pleasant.  

   you gulp, a few choice memories deciding to flood your mind “I worked CIA with my sister for awhile. Our whole family was worked in some form of Government job. Then the 2012 attack happened and we were told to stand down. Me and my sister were stubborn so we didn’t”

   you inhale deeply and managed to keep your formal smile upon your face despite the urge to down another glass of wine and call it a night “No one knew about aliens back then, but we wanted to help people in any way we could. In hindsight it was very stupid of us”

   your mind began to wander to something else, the smile fading from your face and be replaced with a blank stare. For an expression so neutral it would be hard to tell that you were reliving a terrible memory. Crashing, a blood curdling scream, your pleas, and a then silence.

   Tony looked at you once you had stopped talking abruptly and used his free hand to pat your shoulder. You broke out of whatever horrific trance you were in “Sorry, zoned out- anyway my sister ended up passing, i was charged with treason funny enough, but Fury convinced them to drop the charges”

   Tony chose to ignore the brief daze you were in for your own sake and you two continued your stroll. The night ended with more talking and much needed laughter. He also offered you a ride home and you gladly took him up on that. It was really nice. 

   when you got to your house he asked you on a date to a very nice restaurant near your place. You accepted even though your brain was telling you not to. On the day of the date you ended up being called in and canceled. He said he understood and that you could reschedule anytime. 

   you never did go on that date 

    ☼-☪-☼

   just like most things it only happened once and you figured that was that. Spending a couple magical hours talking to Tony Stark would be any girls dream and just like dreams you awoke to reality. You had a job and had many other important things to do beside fantasize about a billionaire. 

   that was until Hydra took over Shield in 2014, you and Fury faked your deaths. Tony actually went to your funeral, wearing sunglasses and standing away from everybody. It was pretty sad, but you had a job to do. fury actually came back, but you stayed in hiding.

   then in 2015 when Ultron was a the main problem and you were itchy to bash some robots skulls in- wait they don’t have skulls. Whatever, Fury wouldn’t get involved. Then Sokovia became a giant plane and Fury caved. After a year of doing grunt work you could finally fight. 

   all the staff, including you loaded up a helicarrier. You made your way to the command center where Fury and Maria resided “Ah Agent Y/n. Glad that you could join us. Already suited up i see?” Fury points to your all black outfit and mask. 

   shrugging, you walked towards the front “I’ve been ‘dead’ for a year, cut me some slack for being excited” you say. Fury nods, agreeing with your statement before facing forward. “Set a course to Sokovia and making it fast” Maria announced.

   and with that, you were off

    ☼-☪-☼

  Maria hacked into the Avengers coms and connected Fury’s, your’s, and her own. “Where else am i gonna get a view like this?” a woman said through your earpiece. You instantly recognize it as Nat. You missed her so much, god you couldn’t wait to talk to her again. 

   “Glad you like the view Romanoff. It’s about to get better” Fury spoke, folding his arms behind his back, interlocking his hands. The helicarrier started to raise above Sokovia. Holy shit this is high. As you ascended you were able to see Nat and Steve standing together. Nat cut her hair, it looks pretty.

   rest of the staff began to enter the command room and set up “Nice right? Pulled her out of mothballs with a couple old friends. She’s dusty, but she’ll do” he spoke. “Fury you son of a bitch” Steve said right back. Did he just curse? That had to be Ultron. 

   “Woah, you kiss your mother with that mouth?” Fury said with a fake surprised tone. His comment made you chuckle a bit since he had a foul mouth. Hypocrisy am i right? “Altitude is 18,000 and climbing” Maria spoke, typing away on her keyboard like desk. 

   another guy spoke up from behind you “Lifeboats secure to deploy, disengage in three...two...take them out ” he clicked one final button and sat back. You felt the helicarrier rumble beneath you, which meant the lifeboats were being sent to the ground.

   oh shit. You were supposed to be on one of those. “Shit!” you yell before running out the command room. You raced down the stairs and made your way to the deck. You watched as a lifeboat flew right below. This is such a bad idea. Your doing it anyway.

   taking a couple steps back, you mentally prepare yourself before running as fast as you could. As you touch the edge you jump and launch yourself off the helicarrier. The lifeboat came closer to you until your shoulder collided with it. You hissed and slowly pushed yourself up “Damn- that’s gonna sting”

   “Did you just jump off the helicarrier?” Fury says through the coms

   “Who did?” Steve spoke

   “Oh you know, backup-” Fury replies before Maria cut in “Sir we have multiple bogeys on our starboard flank” she spoke and indeed when you looked up you saw a bunch of Iron man suits flying above. Oh shit. “Show them what he got” he replied back. 

   you reach down and pull both guns out the holsters that were on both of your thighs “It feels good to be back” you said to yourself. You heard something fly above you that wasn’t a Bogey and saw War Machine- Rhodey blasting through a bunch of them. He’s pretty cool.

   just as you were about to bask in the moment a Bogey landed on the lifeboat and came charging at you. It swung and you ducked just in time, lifting your foot to kick it in the chest. As it stumbled back you raised your gun and shot it straight in the head.

   the literal lights behind its glass ‘eyes’ flickered until it shut off and it fell to the ground. “It better not be that easy to kill the actual Iron Man” you spoke. “And your not gonna find out” a voice spoke. You turn around and see Tony in his suit, with his arm raised, ready to attack you. 

   you raise your hands “Woah- What the hell Stark!” you shout. Oh shit- you had a mask. “I’m on your side” you add. Tony tilts his head “Really, prove it” he says. You slowly move your hand. as to not startle him and slowly pull the mas down from your face “Hey Tony”

   he visibly tensed up. His mask retracting back into his face. Still has handsome as ever. He reaches up with both arms and takes off his helmet, dropping it to the side. “So is faking your death a Shield initiation thing or you just really didn’t want to go out with me?” he asked. 

   you cracked a smile and dropped your arms to your sides “I told you work gets in the way” you said. He went to say something when four Bogeys landed on the lifeboat. Damn you couldn’t let any on until you landed. Tony groaned dramatically and shot one in the chest, causing it to fall off the ship.  

   “No. See regular work doesn’t involve faking your death. I went to your funeral you know?” he says. You drop off and push off the seat and onto the Bogey, wrapping your thighs around its head. You push the barrel of the gun against the top of its head and shot “I know. I was there!” you shout.

   “Oh that’s just great. You saw me all vulnerable and teary” he says with a scoff. what was happening right now. You drop to the ground and the Bogey grabs your leg, pulling you back. You shot it in the arm and it lets go “I actually didn’t know you cried. That’s kind of cute though”

   you shoot the Bogey in the head and stand up on your feet. Just as you are about to take a step, a metal arm wraps around your neck, pulling you back. Oh yeah there was four. You went to reach behind as Tony shot through it’s head. The grip around your neck was released and you pushed it’s corpse off.

   “Your welcome” Tony spoke, he still sounded snappy. “Your such a baby Tony. What can i do to make you stop moping?” you ask, putting one of your guns into the holster. You look behind you as the lifeboats pull up next to Sokovia “One date after all this. So i can show you what you missed of course”

   you crack a smile, pulling your hood off your head. You raise your hand and hold up one finger “One date. That’s it” you say and he nods along “That works for me” he replies before picking up his helmet. He puts it on his head “But you’ll come back for more” he says as his face is covered by metal once more.

    ☼-☪-☼

   present

   you ended up did going on that date with Tony and he was right, there would be multiple date and girts until he finally asked you to be in a relationship. It was any big grand gesture that you expected from him, it was simple and sweet. It took him three years for him to propose in 2018.

   but he was always one to wait. 

   the second battle with Thanos, but everyone seemed to be somewhat recovering, but Tony wasn’t himself anymore. You already knew he was a workaholic, but it had never been this bad. He’d stay up all night working on new tech. Security, suit adjustments, anything. 

   when it first started happening you chalked it up to his response to trauma. One night you suggested he’d go to therapist. Just one session and if he thought it would work then he could continue and vise versa. Tony ended up shooting down the idea with a couple harsh words. 

   it was strange to see him yell at you because he had never done before. It was like you were talking to an entirely different person. It scared you to be honest, but you loved him. A whole year after Thanos had gone by and he was just falling deeper and deeper into his work and less into you.

   “Friday, is Tony awake?” you spoke, pouring coffee into a black mug. You place it on the silver tray and grab the light beige cardigan off the counter, slipping it over your white sports bra. “Yes Miss. Would you like me to inform him your coming down to the lab?” Friday asked.

   “No that’s alright. I’d rather surprise him. Thank you Friday” you say and grab the tray off the counter, it had a mug of coffee and a plate of pancakes. You knew he wouldn’t have eaten already “Just doing my job Miss” she replies. You smile to yourself. You liked listening to her accent. 

       ☼-☪-☼

   you push open the door with the side of your hip since your hands were full “Tony!” you call out, looking around the lab one time. You stop as you see your lovers head pop up behind a machine you were unfamiliar of “Y/n? What’re you doing up? It’s late” he said, putting down a tablet.

   you roll your eyes and walk over to the big table in the middle, placing the tray down “It’s nine in the morning, love” you reply. Was he starting to lose track of time now? This place needed more windows clearly. Tony put on a confused face as he scratched the back of his neck “Really?”

   nodding, you lift up the mug of coffee from the tray and make your way over to Tony. You dodge a few tools laying on the ground and hand him the cup “Drink” you say. He takes it from you and brings it to his lips “Thanks” he says. While he drank you studied his face. He looked so exhausted.

   it broke your heart

   “You look terrible by the way” you comment, causing him to crack a small smile. “You said yes to this face, remember that” he retorts. Well he wasn’t wrong about that one. “That is true, seriously i want you out the lab today and into bed. Tomorrow is an important day”

   Tony goes silent for a moment and you can tell he was trying really hard to think “Tony” you said, your voice sounding like a mom who was getting ready to lecture there child for forgetting to do homework. “I know i know- important day. Can’t wait for that...day”

   you narrowed your eyes “Friday” you called out. “Yes Miss” she replies instantly. “Read me Tony’s schedule that he set for himself for the week” you ask. Tony steps forward, but you take a step back, moving away from him. “There is nothing on Mr. Stark’s schedule this week Miss” 

   wow

   moving away from Tony, you walk over to the table “It’s our anniversary tomorrow you ass” you snap at him. Tony sighs and runs his hand over his face “I’ve been busy-” “You’ve never forgot it before” your tone was unusually calm, which through Tony off. 

   “Thanos is dead Tony” 

   “I know-”

   “Then what are you doing?!” you shout, shocking yourself at the loudness of your own voice. “I’m trying to keep you safe!” he exclaims. Your fist clench. God you loved this man, but you wanted to punch him in the nose “You know i thought that you would get over this, but i can’t take much more”

   your words seem to scare Tony a bit, but you continued to speak “It’s been a year Tony. You don’t sleep next to me, we barely talk unless it’s me making sure you don’t fucking starve to death, we haven’t been intimate in god knows how long. I’m tired of being neglected”

   crying for a man was so pathetic, so you reached up and wiped any forming tears away with your thumb. Tony reached his arms out and wrapped them around you. You wanted to push him away, but he hasn't hugged you in so long, so you gave in. 

   he rubbed the back of your head as you let a few tears fall onto his shirt “I’ll stop okay- look i promise i’ll get some sleep and will have a whole day together okay?” he says. You were mad and you wanted to scream at him, but you also loved him and wanted to give him a second chance.

   “Okay, but i swear Tony. You screw this up and-” you were cut off by him placing his lips on yours. Damn Stark. You smiled lightly into the kiss and pull away a couple seconds later “and you’ll throw me out on my ass i know.” he says. 

   you ended up making Tony go to sleep in your shared room while you cleaned up his lab and such. 

    ☼-☪-☼

   the anniversary, night 

   you were waiting outside a restaurant since Tony wanted to show up in his car to ‘swoon’ you wearing a black jumpsuit, it was his favorite color on you You looked at your phone and noticed he was about ten minutes late, but that didn’t worry you much since he liked to be fashionably late. 

   he’d come. He wouldn’t risk his last chance.

   would he?

    ☼-☪-☼

   after two hours Happy ended up picking you up and taking you back to your home. He apologized for Tony a couple times, but you said it was fine. Once you got home you kicked off your heels at the door. You were kind of running on autopilot just in shock and realization at the same time.

   you knew what you had to do, but at the same time you didn’t want to, but it was over. You gave Tony a chance and he blew it. Nine years down the drain in a flash. You just couldn’t believe it. Walking down the hall, you wipe your face from the warm tears.  

   shutting the door to your shared bedroom, you go over to the closet “Miss you seem to be in distress is there anyway i can help?” Friday spoke. For an AI she was very self aware on feelings. “Is Tony awake Friday?” you ask, going over to your closet. “No Miss, he is asleep in the lab. May i call someone for you?”

   you open the closet and pull out a suitcase you had in there and bring it over to the bed “Call Wanda” you say as you unzip the suitcase, opening it up and throw it on the bed. “Of course Miss, contacting Wanda Maximoff” she replies. After a couple seconds you hear her voice. 

   “Y/n? It’s late, are you alright?” she asked. You had confided in Wanda about your relationship problems with Tony since you were both in a long term relationship. You had also told her about the anniversary thing and Tony’s last chance. she said if it didn’t work out yo could stay at her place.

   “Hey Wanda- uh. Yeah i know it’s late but-” you didn’t get to finish speaking when Wanda cut you off “Are you crying? Tony didn’t come did he? Know what? i’m on way. He better like a car through his window” she threatens, you could hear her moving around and the sound of keys. Well damn-

   you began to grab your clothes from your dresser and stuff them in your suitcase “He’s sleeping, just pull in the front. I’ll send you the gate code okay?” you say, beginning to take off the jumpsuit you were wearing. “Fine, but no promises if i see him in the street. I’ll see you soon Y/n, goodbye”

   Wanda hung up the phone “Friday-” “I sent Wanda the gate code. Before you leave would you like to leave a message for Mr. Stark?” Friday asked. You grab a dark green sweater and jeans from your dresser and throw them on quickly. You didn’t bother to pack the jumpsuit. 

   you wanted Tony to know why you had left so he could see the consequences of his actions and so that he wouldn’t tear the city apart thinking you were kidnapped. “I will, can you record a holographic message?” you ask. “Yes Miss, also Wanda will be arriving in 15 minutes”

   “Okay”

    ☼-☪-☼

   Tony awoke to the sound of his alarm blaring off into his ear “Shit. Friday shut that off!” he groans, lifting his head from the table “Yes Boss” she replies and the alarm shuts off. “Y/n has left a message for you to listen too. It is very important” she adds.

   “Play it” he says going to lay his head back down on the table “It is a holographic message, Boss” Friday says. Tony begrudgingly lifts his head and leans it on his arm “Play it” he repeats. A second later you appeared sitting on the chair at the table with a blue hue around you. 

   “Hey Tony” you spoke a half smile on your face. tony would have found comfort in it if he doesn’t your puffy eyes and saddened expression. His head lifted on his arm “Remember our anniversary, you know your last chance and all that? Yeah.” you began. Tony sighed mumbling curses under his breath.

    “I care about you, i have since you talked to me at the Shield dance, but i haven’t been your first priority in a while and i get it, but you promised when i left Shield that you would always make time for me. I know that Thanos shook you and you won’t admit it, but you need realize that something bad isn’t lurking around every corner”

   Tony watched as you reached up and rubbed your eyes, the scene tugging on his heartstrings “We need a break from each other Tony, just for a little while. I’m going to stay with some friends. Please try to help yourself, get out the lab, clean yourself up, all of that.”

   you pulled something off your ring finger and placed it on the table. Tony looked down and saw the silver ring with three aquamarine stones. He remembered proposing to you with it. You said the color reminded you of his reactor. Weirdly enough your hologram looked up at him and smiled. 

   “I’ll be waiting” you said and then flickered away “That’s the end of the message, Boss” Friday says. Tony slowly picked up the ring off the table. You had recorded the message in hear, talking to his sleeping body. He wished he had woken up. 

    ☼-☪-☼

   three months later

   staying with Wanda was fun, but after a month or so you decided to get your own place. As much as you loved your big house you shared with Tony you bought small cabin well away from the city. It was quiet, it was outdoors and you loved it. 

   when you and Tony got engaged you ended up retiring from Shield so you could be more at home and help Tony with his work, but now even though you didn’t need a job you also didn’t like the idea of sitting on your ass. In that night of packing you put your old suit in there while on autopilot. 

   It took awhile, but you called up Fury and he was more than happy to let you back in “What does Stark have to say about all this?” he asked and you just sighed quietly “What Tony doesn’t know won’t hurt him” you replied and he didn’t ask any more questions after that. 

   getting back into your old life was pretty easy. All you needed was to get back into your regular exercise regiment that you had been lacking on and you felt more confident than ever. You didn’t feel neglected or forgotten, the complete opposite, you felt badass. 

   one day when you were walking out the store after picking up some groceries you felt eyes on you as you walked along the sidewalk. After years of being an Agent you knew when you were being followed. What was strange was that it felt like someone was watching you from above.

   having a hunch at who it might be you quickly looked up and see a quick blur of red and blue swing away from your vision. Was this kid following you? but why? You duck into an alley way and walk slowly. You hear him drop behind you and follow your steps. 

   “Peter”

   “Hi” he replies in nervous tone. You turn around, placing your free hand on your hip “Why have you been following me all week Peter?” yopu ask. You haven’t talked to Peter in months. Did he need something? Peter lifts his arm and grabs the top of his mask, pulling it off of his head. 

   he was lucky you were in a remote part of the city “Mr. Stark told me you weren’t together at the moment” he starts, looking at his feet. “I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright” he says and flashes a toothy grin. Aw- wait. “Did Tony ask you to check on me?”

   Peter shook his head “No. He’s been busy with setting up the new senteries and therapy- i mean i don’t know. I just missed you and i can tell Mr. Stark is trying to change, but i hate to see you both so sad. I couldn’t imagine not being with Mj” he says. This kid was too adorable. 

   not only that he went out of his way to see how you were doing. Wait- what did he say about Tony “What senteries?” you asked, stepping closer to him. Peter started to fidget a bit “Uh- i really have to get going-” “Peter” you said in a demanding tone. 

   he exhaled deeply, knowing he wasn’t getting out of this “Mr. Stark has a whole line of senteries to sell to the senator so he can finally retire from being Iron Man. Not fully retire just on a long term vacation- that’s what he called it.” he spoke. Holy shit- you hoped he had done this for himself

   and you as well- but mostly himself

   a smile creeped onto your face. The most stubborn man you had ever met changed. “When does he plan on doing this?” you say to Peter “A dinner party this weekend. I wasn’t supposed to say anything until it was done. He was going to do some grand gesture to show you he’s changed” 

   you shook your head and placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder “Don’t be. For once i’m doing the grand gesture”

    ☼-☪-☼

   saturday 

   after figuring out and planning on when and where you were going to show up you decided to tap into Friday’s systems and watch most of his speech then find Tony when the time was right, preferably when he was alone. Being with Tony for so long you figured out a way to enter your shared home, undetected.

   once you were in the building you hid away in a spare room that was never used “Friday show me the room Tony’s in” you spoke, pulling out your phone “Yes Miss” she spoke and on your screen you saw Tony in the dining room. You lift your phone and flick it so its projected off the screen.

   your eyes latched to Tony as soon as it turned on. He looked so different and healthy. It was pleasing to see that he was doing much better. You were also glad he took your advice. A warmth invaded your chest, it’s like you fell in love with him all over again. 

   gosh how you wanted to run into his arms that very moment. 

   “So Stark, why retire now?” the senator asked, taking a sip of wine from the glass he held. Tony seemed to tense up the question, but no one noticed other then you and Tony himself “If you asked me three months ago i would have told you to go to hell and that i don’t need to retire”

   “and now?”

   “Well back then i had my fiancee and thought i was the king of the world. Then i lost her because of my workaholic nature- also i’m not retiring Iron, Man will still be here for whoever needs him, but i think it’s time i put my future wife first if i want to keep her” he shrugs his shoulders casually.

   most at the table were stunned into silence before the senator lifted his hand for tony to shake “I guess Tony Stark does have a heart” he spoke and Tony shook his hand. You felt something warm come down your face and reached to wipe the tears away.

   god- what a charmer. Always knew just what to say.

   “Well this was fun, but my finacee i’ve been talking about is actually here on the moment” he said. Wait what? You looked at the screen as Tony’s head turned towards the camera, sending you a wink. How the hell did he find out?! Tony grabbed a pen from his pocket and signed the paper.

   “Happy will show you all out” Tony waved them off before walking out the room “If you step out the room you’ll be able to meet Mr. Stark in the hallway” Friday spoke. Oh so she snitched. Betrayal at it’s finest “Thanks Friday” you spoke before stepping out the room. 

   as you turned your head you come face to face with your husband to be, except he seemed nervous? “You look great- well you always look great” Tony says, making you form a smile “I’m proud of you” you say back. Tony reaches up, using this thumb to wipe away a stray tear. 

   “That means a lot coming from you. I can’t believe i let you slip away” his voice got darker, a frown forming. “I’m right here” you open your arms out. tony takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “But seriously Tony i will really leave you next time”

   he nods “I know i know. You can have the whole house if i do” he says, making you chuckle. After a moment of staring into each other's eyes, silently making up for lost time. “Oh my god Tony Stark if you don’t kiss me right now-” you didn’t even need to finish before his lips were on yours. 

   the kiss was desperate and starved for a deeper feeling. Who knew one person could miss another so much? After this, you speculated you’d be stuck to his side like glue for a couple weeks before he say something stupid to piss you off. 

   Tony’s hands traveled lower and lower until they gripped the back of your thighs, causing a familiar feeling to bloom within you. He pulls away from your mouth and his lips attach to your neck, leaving hot open mouthed kisses. Zero to one hundred real quick. 

   “Tony” you breathed out. You could feel the smirk against the skin of your neck. Horny bastard “Tony seriously” you say, a laugh bubbling in your throat. He pulls away and looks at you ‘I’m trying to seduce you. Why are you interrupting?” 

   you shake your head and hook your arms around his neck “I love you, you idiot”  you say, trying to catch your breath. A ego filling grin decorated his face as he pecked your lips “I love you too. Now let me get back to work” he says and goes back to kissing your neck and his hands worked off your belt.

   yeah- you were in love 

    ☼-☪-☼

   Click here to join my Taglist!    @sonbelleame @hel-viti @loudbluepancake @vmame

    ☼-☪-☼

   Kody: Eh this kinda sucks. requests are open and my taglist. Anyways, peace

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: So Close Yet So Far Away

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Frankie Morales x Jay 'Lady' Ray

Warnings: Language, talk of sex, throwback to sex, Pope is a crude asshole. Yearnnniinnngggg.

Summary: Lady and Pope get into an argument and Frankie sorts her out. Cue some elite level yearning.

A/N: HAHAHA I wasn't even meant to write this today but I woke up with this on my mind and I just had to because they're my BABIES. This is an instalment in the Frankie x Lady series and takes place back when Lady was in Frankie's squad, before they were an item.

Jay should have known better than to ask about everyone’s weekend. She just wanted to make small talk while they got prepped for a field exercise. She wasn’t ready to hear about their night out on Saturday, how Santi, Frankie, and Benny all scored some willing chicks, Will only missing out because he had a girlfriend, not because he didn’t pull.

All the while Jay was stuck with her family, listening to her mother go on about how she was too good for the army, she should leave while she was still alive, get a normal job, marry, have kids… She could have been out with the guys, maybe get lucky herself and if not, at least have a fun night. Get drunk instead of sad.

And now she finds herself listening to Santi talk about his one night stand, not giving Benny a chance to talk about his, while Frankie, quite characteristically, clammed up about personal stuff.

“Nutted her so fucking hard and all she did was beg for more,” Santi brags, “best fuck I had in ages…”

Jay’s been in the military since she was 18. She knows how soldiers talk, she’s heard it all, she’s participated in the crude joking, she’s not put off by it. But on this Monday morning, while the squad is assembling their equipment, she doesn’t want to hear it.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Pope, do you fucking have to talk like that?” she barks, unable to hear one more word about his sexual conquests. The rest of them cease their activities in wait for Pope’s reply. Working so closely together, sometimes spending weeks cramped up on assignments builds close bonds but also breeds discord. It’s normal to be at each other’s throats from time to time but it’s rarely Jay who flies off the handle.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, My Lady,” Santi replies with a smirk, his voice at its most velvety. “I meant I made passionate love to her all night – “

“You are so fucking disgusting, you know that?” Jay hisses. “Just shut the fuck up about the whole thing, nobody wants to hear about it.”

“Clearly not you,” Pope drawls, quick to anger. In the corner of her eye, Jay notices Will shake his head at him. Don’t engage, bro, just drop it. But Santiago Garcia is someone who doesn’t let things slide when he’s in gear.

“When was the last time you got laid, Ray? You need to get those pipes cleared out. Get some d.”

When was the last time? Too long ago. She does have an itch but last time she scratched it, it just didn’t feel right. She had the same feeling of detachment as she experienced just now when she heard about last Saturday night, particularly the fact that Frankie got laid.

It’s not that she’s jealous. She’s just more comfortable with the idea that Frankie doesn’t sleep around with anyone.

“A dick isn’t going to solve my problems, Santi, unless it’s a big one up your sorry ass,” she snaps, a rude laugh from Benny telling her she scored a point. Staring hard at Pope, whose ridiculously handsome features show an obnoxious amount of amusement, she knows that he won’t budge until he’s drawn metaphorical blood.

“Just name the time and the place, Ray, I’ll be there. Will you?”

“Okay, knock it off.” It’s Frankie, of course. The voice of reason. “Redfly’s gonna be here any minute and I don’t want to do extra laps just because you two can’t play nice.”

Frankie always has that calming effect on her, even now when she’s inexplicably mad at him for having fooled around with some random girl he picked up at their usual dive. Is there a possibility of her being there again in the future? Jay doesn’t want to think about it. Right now, she focuses on the sense that Frankie’s words make. It’s not worth it. Santi’s not worth it.

“Just stay away from me, asshole,” she warns Santi before going back to her kit. The tension in the room eases and Benny, who’s closest to Jay, gives her a brief pat on the back and a nod that says Good call. She hears Frankie murmur something to Santi behind her back, then Santi’s mutter: “She on the rag or something?”

That does it. Jay throws down her backpack and spins around.

“You say that to my face, you piece of shit,” she growls, taking a step forward. Her body is quivering with pent up rage in need of an outlet and knocking Pope on his ass would serve as an adequate one.

“Jay, he’s not worth it,” Benny tries to placate her but she barely hears him. Her whole focus is directed at Pope and his shit-eating grin. He says one more thing…

“Got your panties in a twist?”

She lunges forward but doesn’t make it to Pope as several hands grab her and hold her back.

“Hey, hey, hey!”

“Calm the fuck down, Ray!”

“Crazy bitch – “

“You’re on really thin ice, too, Pope! Shut that motherfucking mouth of yours!”

Benny is physically restraining her as she practically vibrates with desire to beat the crap out of Santi, who’s held back by Frankie.

“Ray, he’s not worth it,” Benny tells her. “Take a walk. Smoke. Calm down. He’s an asshole.”

He’s right and Jay knows it. Mustering up all of her willpower, Jay rolls back onto her heels, straightens her back, and squares her shoulders. Without looking at anyone, she turns around and stomps out.

Frankie finds her by the vehicles, in the backseat of a Humvee. Her fore and middle fingers are rubbing against her thumb: she’s quit smoking but is clearly wishing she had a cigarette right now. Frankie climbs into the backseat from the other side and pulls up a pack from his pocket, offering it to her without words. Jay hesitates but eventually takes one and leans closer to him when he flicks open his lighter. Frankie can smell the anger on her, a sweaty tightness that radiates from her muscles. She sits back, inhaling deeply before exhaling in a frustrated puff of smoke.

“Fuck,” she mutters, “I don’t wanna die because of these.”

“I thought you quit?”

“I did.” She throws him a glance and a grimace before flicking the cigarette out through the open door. “I thought you quit as well?”

“I keep them around for emergencies like this,” he shrugs. Jay looks pointedly at him.

“Then you haven’t truly quit, have you?”

He loves it how she puts him on the spot like this, provokes him, forces him to reconsider, change his way of thinking. She always does it with such ease, sometimes with a teasing glint in her eye. She just makes him want to be a better person.

“I guess not.” He throws her a small smile that goes unreciprocated. She stares into the back of the seat in front of her, lips tight. Frankie would love to just sit here in silence and let her lead, let her open up in due time, but he knows that if they don’t join the others soon, Tom is going to make a scene.

“Pope’s an asshole,” he states. Jay scoffs but says nothing. “But what’s up with you? You usually don’t let shit like that get to you.”

Her nostrils flare and he sees the muscles of her throat flex. Eventually, she parts her lips to speak, her voice strained.

“I spent the weekend with my dear mother, my brother, and his family. And you know what mom’s like.”

Frankie nods. Yes, he’s heard about Jay’s mother and the dislike the woman has for her daughter’s career choice. The older brother is married with one kid and another on the way and he, of course, is a saint, a pinnacle of human achievement, his children the very essence of what makes a successful life, his wife the perfect picture of Woman.

Jay suddenly twitches, then kicks at the seat in front of her.

“Fuck!I hate this fucking shit!”

Frankie refrains from putting a hand on her shoulder, no matter how much he would like to. He might end up with a broken nose.

“I cut her off,” Jay says tonelessly. “Completely.”

“About fucking time, Jay.” He’s been waiting for this to happen and he wants to tell her that he’s proud of her but it’s not his prerogative, no matter how much he would like it to be.

“Yeah,” she agrees, still not looking at him. “I kept hoping that she’d get her shit together but…” Her voice trails off and she swallows hard. “Fuck. I miss my dad.”

“He’d be proud of you,” Frankie assures her, biting off the endearment that threatened to escape him. Mi amor. Querida. He wants to be able to call her that, wants to be the one she’d come to with her sadness. Wants to be the one to call her mother and tell her to go suck an egg.

“You should’ve called,” he tells her but she only shakes her head. Stubborn as a mule.

“You were out. I didn’t want to ruin your night.”

It had been ruined the moment Santi laid eyes on the company of three young women by the bar. He had zoned in on the curvy brunette and Benny had picked the fiery redhead, leaving Frankie with the blonde. He didn’t want her, didn’t want any of the others, but he had fallen for the peer pressure and for every drink, he figured it could be a good idea to get laid. The girl was pretty, funny, nice. She had a hot body and was clearly willing. They had gone to her place and he had treated her like he would treat every woman he slept with: he ate her out, giving her several orgasms with his tongue before even thinking about putting his dick in her.

She had insisted on riding him. Frankie didn’t mind but as she bounced on his cock, her round, heavy tits jiggling in front of him, he didn’t see her face anymore. No, it was Jay all along, Jay’s long, lean body on top of him, Jay sinking down on him, her slick, hot pussy swallowing his cock while he swallowed her moan. The fantasy had become so real that he had to wrangle the woman off of him and take her from behind instead.

He left in silence once she was asleep, crept out like an asshole, a coward. He usually asked a woman if she wanted him to stay, he had once upon a time enjoyed having breakfast the next morning, sharing kisses when he finally left. But now, it all felt like cheating.

“You wouldn’t have ruined the night,” he tells her quietly. “It wasn’t that good.”

“The night or the sex?”

“The latter.” His ears are burning and he refuses to look at her.

“Too much to drink?” There it is: that sweet, amiable little taunt she saves for him only – or at least he hopes she does. He’s never heard her speak like that to any of the other guys.

“Wrong girl.”

Jay turns her head and looks at him. The distance between them in the backseat seems to shrink and grow at the same time when he returns her gaze. The hairs at the nape of his neck rise when he loses himself in the fathomless ocean-blue of her eyes.

He has to kiss her. He mustn’t kiss her.

“Are you two done with your fucking therapy session?”

Both of them startle when Tom shows up by the open door on Frankie’s side.

“I have an exercise op to run and I don’t have time to wait for you to feel quite ready, Ray,” he adds before slapping his hand to the roof of the Humvee. “Get your asses in gear.”

He leaves without having noticed anything. Frankie wonders how it’s even possible. Didn’t Tom feel the air crackle with electricity? Didn’t he hear how hard his heart was beating?

Jay gets out of the vehicle and slams the door shut, and Frankie follows suit. As they walk back, keeping a distance of two feet between them, Jay murmurs a Thank you, Morales to him.

“Sure,” he replies easily, forcing himself to sound neutral. “I got you, Ray.”

[izzyfandoms]

Like Lipstick Stains On His Skin

SHIPS: Remile

CHARACTERS: Emile Picani, Remy Sanders

WARNING: Anxiety, references to heartbreak

GENERAL TAGLIST: @quillfics42 @aj-draws @phantomofthesanderssides @phlying-squirrel @sly-is-my-name-loving-is-my-game @because-were-fam-ily @imtryingthisout @a-creepycookie @emo-disaster @littlestr @spooky-scary-virgil @fuyel @mimsidoodles @soupgremlin @aroaceagenderfluid @birdsbookshiddeninrealbirdsskin @quirkalurk @gingers-trashy-stuff @iinyxtello @justaqueercactus @melodiread @mrbubbajones @glassferns @pun-master-logan @gayturtlez @k1ngtok1

Masterpost

A Series Of Soulmate AUs Masterpost

Emile Picani had been in love with his best friend for as long as he could remember.

The moment he had first laid eyes on Remy Sanders, his initial thought had been that that was the most attractive person he’d ever seen. And, after getting to know him better, Emile’s thoughts only solidified; Remy was funny and sarcastic, smarter than anyone gave him credit for, and casually flirty in a way that made Emile’s heart stop and pound and ache all at once.

And Emile’s feelings had only strengthened as they grew up together.

From awkward teenagers still figuring out their sexualities to adults with their own homes and jobs and independent lives, Remy and Emile had stayed friends through it all, sticking together like glue since they’d first met in middle school. They knew almost everything about each other, and they were best friends.

But that was just it – they were friends. Nothing more.

And Emile was... fine with that. He was fine.

He loved Remy. Loved, loved, loved Remy.

And, sure, it hurt when he was with Remy, but not really with Remy, not in the way Emile always wanted to be. It hurt to be around him and know that it would only ever be platonic, that his best friend would never love him back in quite the same he loved him.

But time spent with Remy was better than time spent with anyone or anything else. And Emile knew that Remy cared deeply for him, too.

Emile could take the heartache if it meant he never lost his best friend.

When Emile heard the knock on his front door, he immediately recognised it as Remy’s. He jumped up – perhaps a little too enthusiastically and excitedly, but the only person that could see him right now was himself, so there was nobody around to judge. He rushed over to the door and pulled it open. Remy’s eyes lit up when he saw Emile, and he grinned.

Emile would never admit aloud to the tremble of his heart in his chest at the expression on his best friend’s face, but he did immediately squish down the traitorous hope that emerged every time Remy looked at him like that. Which happened almost every time they saw each other.

“Hey, Remy! You’re here early,” Emile said.

“Hope that’s chill, babe. I was not watching the time.”

(Emile did his best to ignore the feelings that the use of the nickname ‘babe’ stirred up.)

Remy’s sunglasses were propped up on his head, as they often were, and his warm brown eyes were on display. He was wearing his signature black leather jacket, too, as he usually was, with a white crop-top – with the word ‘bitch’ across the front in block capitals – underneath, exposing his midriff.

It took effort for Emile to keep his eyes from drifting downwards.

“It’s fine, Remy,” Emile smiled, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on his best friend’s face. “You’re always welcome here, you know that.”

Remy laughed. “If you keep saying that, I’ll end up showing up here at 4am when I’m drunk.”

“Well, I would rather you came here than go somewhere else and get yourself hurt.”

“Even if that means I wake you up from whatever candy-coloured, cartoon-filled dreams you’re having?”

“Mhm!”

“Damn, gurl, you really are sweeter than sugar, huh? How the hell did someone like you end up being besties with someone like me?”

“Aww, Remy, I think you give yourself too little credit.”

Remy laughed again. “Nah, babes, I love myself. I’m just kinda an asshole sometimes.”

“Isn’t everyone sometimes?” Emile said.

“Not you, apparently. Come on, you’re basically an angel, like, 24/7 and I have legit no idea how you do it. You’ve got the patience of a saint and a smile that literally gives me toothache just looking at it. You’re downright adorable.”

Elation bubbled up in Emile’s heart, and those bubbles filled his chest and spilled over in the forms of happy giggles. He covered his smile with his hand, and practically melted on the spot at the soft, fond look that crossed Remy’s face for just a moment – almost unnoticeable, but Emile paid enough attention that he saw it – before being replaced with Remy’s usual grin.

“Do you want to come in?” Emile asked, still smiling.

“Sure.”

Emile stepped to the side, and Remy’s arm brushed against his own as he walked past him. He hoped the stuttered breath at the contact wasn’t obvious.

“I like the new tie,” Remy commented as Emile shut the door and turned to face him.

Emile perked up. “Oh, you noticed!”

“Course I did,” Remy said. “I’ve seen every tie you’ve got like a million times. I could tell that one was new basically as soon as you opened the door.”

“Aww, Remy... you’re great. The best friend a guy could have!”

Emile’s smile was soft, fond, and so, so caring, and – for just a moment – he could have sworn that Remy looked flustered to be the recipient of it: wide-eyed and as still as a statue. But then, the moment passed, and Remy’s expression smoothed over and returned to normal, and Emile was sure that he’d only imagined it.

“It’s nothing, babe,” Remy said, waving his hand dismissively. “You noticed when I got that new skirt last week, even though it’s identical to my old one-”

“Your old one had a big hole in it! The new one didn’t.”

“Yeah, so I had to get a new one ‘cos it made my ass look great and I wasn’t ‘bout to give that shit up, you know? Ooh, and I especially love it paired with those heels that get everyone looking at my legs, ‘cos that combo makes me look fab AF.” Remy paused. “You know what, I think that’s kinda beside the point. Any-gay, you noticed ‘cos you’re cool like that, so me noticing your tie is, like, nothing.”

“Aww, Remy,” Emile reached forward, and poked Remy’s arm. “It’s not nothing, most people wouldn’t even be able to tell! You’re my best friend, and it makes me really, really happy that you notice these kinds of things.”

Remy’s expression softened. “Well, then I guess it makes it pretty special then, huh?”

Emile felt like screaming. Or kissing Remy. Or kissing Remy and then screaming.

(Though, really, if Emile ever got the chance to kiss Remy, he’d be too busy savouring it to even think of doing anything else. Too busy savouring the feeling of warm lips against his own, of Remy’s gentle hand against his cheek, of a chest pressed against his own, of being so close to the one person he wanted to be close to more than anything else in the world. But he never thought he’d ever get the chance.)

Emile stumbled over his words, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other as he fiddled with his hands. He had no idea how he was supposed to respond to that, and wasn’t sure if he even could without losing control of his mouth and accidentally confessing his undying love for his best friend.

“Um...” he trailed off.

Remy laughed awkwardly, running his fingers through his hair and glancing away.

“So, uh... what did- what did your patients think of your new tie?”

“Oh!” Emile perked up again, at once both disappointed and relieved by the return to the original topic of conversation. “Yeah, two of them complimented it. And someone said the red was a nice change from the usual pastels, so I think it was a big hit!”

He smiled, and Remy immediately smiled back.

“Nice.”

“I think the pink tie’s still my favourite, though.”

“Mine, too. It’s a classic Emile colour.”

Emile laughed. “There are classic Emile colours?”

“Sure, there are! You’ve got your baby pink, baby blue and, you know,” Remy reached out, tugging gently on Emile’s cardigan sleeve. “You’ve got your cardigan-colour. I’ve, like, barely ever seen you without this thing. How many of these do you have? Like, a hundred?”

Emile giggled again, covering his mouth with his hand. “I have two. And they’re both a little different!”

“Right, right,” Remy nodded. “One’s, like, a little bigger.”

“Mhm! And this one’s a bit softer.”

Remy nodded again, slowly and with an amused tint to his smile. “So, are we gonna, like, move, or are we gonna stand in your hallway forever?”

“Oh, right!” Emile said, like he’d only just remembered that they were still stood at his front door.  

He moved past Remy, gesturing for his friend to follow as he went into the next room and sat down on the couch. Remy immediately flopped onto it beside him, getting comfortable on the soft, squishy cushions. He leant back lazily and stretched.

“Ooh,” Remy finally said, straightening up. “I bought a new lipstick yesterday!”

“Ooh, what colour?”

“It’s, like, pink. It matches the shoes I bought last week, and it makes me look killer. I’m gonna get all the guys’ eyes on me, so it sucks that I can’t wear it when I’m, like, actually looking to kiss strangers, you know?”

Emile ignored the pang of pain in his heart, and did his best to smile encouragingly.

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned,” he said. “I- I bet you look great in it. And it- it's a shame you can’t wear it when you want to.”

“Yeah, I’m kinda tempted to, you know, but, like, if I’m wearing lipstick, then I won’t know if any marks my lips make are ‘cos of my lipstick or ‘cos of soulmate shit, right?” Remy continued, gesturing vaguely with his hand. “And, like, what’s the pointing of making out with people if I can’t also know if they’re my soulmate?”

“Right.”

“So, I can only wear lipstick when I’m not looking for people to kiss. Sucks, but it’s gotta be done.”

Emile nodded slowly. Then, he paused, and his brow creased in thought.

“You don’t usually wear lipstick when you’re with me,” he said. “Even when we’re going out and it’s just us, no- no kissing strangers involved. How come?”

Remy froze in place.

“Uh...”

Emile blinked at him. He tilted his head questioningly. “Hmm?”

He could practically see the cogs turning in Remy’s head, while he searched for an answer that he obviously did not have or did not want to share. He looked... flustered, in a way that Emile had almost never seen him before – opening and closing his mouth a few times – and Emile just couldn’t seem to figure out why.

Remy and Emile just stared at each other, neither knowing quite what to say to the other. Emile was confused, not wanting to speak up at the risk of interrupting whatever Remy wanted to say. He also absolutely would not let his mind wander to the any possibilities that would fill him with hope.

A crushed hope was definitely not something Emile wanted to deal with, not right now.

Remy cleared his throat. He swallowed.

“Um- there’s...” he then huffed, looking down at his lap and running his fingers through his hair. He let out an awkward laugh, and then looked back up at Emile. “I... okay,” he sighed. “There’s something I think I should probs tell you.”

Emile stared at him, blinking. “What is it?” He asked.

“It, uh...” Remy sighed again. “I have no idea how you’d react to this. The thing I want to tell you... it could probs mess up our friendship.”

“Remy...” Emile said softly. “You’re my best friend. You can tell me anything, and I promise you this won’t mess anything up, okay?”

“You don’t even know what I’m about to say.”

“I don’t need to. I know you.” Emile leant forward slightly, giving Remy his best attempt at a soft, reassuring smile.

Remy stared at Emile for a second. Then he laughed again, a strange mix of awkwardness and nervousness and with a hint of slight joy, too – with a confusing, even a little alarming, effect. His eyes never left Emile’s smile.

“Jeez, babe. How are you making this so much harder but so much easier at, like, the same time?”

Emile blinked. “Um... is that good?”

“Dunno. But...” Remy took a deep breath. He clenched his hands into fists, looking up at the ceiling for a moment before he turned back to Emile. “Okay... wow, I’ve wanted to tell you this for forever, but, like, fuck, this is terrifying.”

Emile’s expression creased with concern. He reached forward, looking him over worriedly, and rested his hand on his best friend’s shoulder, squeezing reassuringly.

“Remy, are you okay? You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” he frowned slightly.

“No, I- I want to tell you. God, you have no idea how many times I’ve thought about telling you about my feelings.”

Feelings. Feelings, feelings, feelings.

Did that mean what Emile thought it meant?

The hope rose up, though he tried so hard to squash it down, but it was like trying to fit something large in a container too small and he could hardly keep it from filling up and overwhelming him. His breath stuttered, and he was sure he tensed up and froze in place for a moment, before he finally regained his composure and physically relaxed.

“Feelings?” He asked, in a voice slightly more strangled than before. “What feelings?”

Remy let out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, that’s- that’s what I’ve gotta talk to you about. My- my feelings... for you.” He took another deep breath. “I... I love you, Em.”

“I love you, too,” Emile answered back immediately. “Haven’t we said this before?”

They had. The two best friends had been friends for so long: exchanging ‘I love you’s was practically part of their routine, by now.

But it had always been platonic, at least from Remy’s side.

Right?

“We- we have...” Remy said slowly. “But that’s not what I meant. I love you. Like, love love. Like the head over heels in love kind. The- the I can never stop thinking ‘bout you kind. The, fuck, you’re so gorgeous kind. The kind that means I’m, like, basically always thinking about you and about kissing you and about how, wow, you’re- you’re just amazing. I mean, damn, I know last week when I told you that you’re my favourite person, I kinda said it like a joke, but I meant it. I like really, really meant it.”

When Remy realised that he was rambling, he clamped his hand over his mouth, like it was the only way to get the words – the pretty, pretty words that had set Emile’s heart aflutter – to stop tumbling out.

Emile was frozen.

He stared, wide-eyed at his best friend.

“Oh,” was the only thing he could say, in a strangled voice.

He was sure that his face was already bright red.

“Great.” Remy sighed, removing his palm from his mouth and burying his face in his hands. “I’ve really fucked this up, haven’t I?” He mumbled just loud enough to be audible. “I- I know you don’t feel the same way, babe, and it’s fine. It’s totally, totally fine. I’m happy just being friends with you, ‘kay? You- you don’t have to return anything. It’s- it’s whatever. It’s chill.”

Emile’s brain had broken. He could hardly think anything other than the words ‘Remy’ and ‘love’ just over and over on repeat.

Instead of saying anything in response to that – as he wasn’t even sure if he could – he just suddenly burst into nervous, delighted laugher. Emile was sure he sounded like he was crazy, especially when Remy turned to him with a bewildered expression.

“Did- did you really mean that?” Emile asked when he could finally collect his thoughts enough to speak, which took slightly longer than he would have liked it to.

Remy blinked. Then, his expression softened.

“Of course, I did,” he said. “I’d never lie to you about something like this, Em.”

“So, you... you really mean it?” Emile asked hopefully.

“Yeah. Yeah, I did,” Remy said. He hesitated for a moment, before nervously adding: “Do you- I mean, is it-”

“I love you, too.”

There was a beat.

Remy stared back at him, wide-eyed. The moment of silence was somehow simultaneously nerve-racking and also soft and so, so exciting, because, oh my gosh, Remy loved him. Remy loved him, he loved him, he loved him!

Love! Love! Love!

And, oh, heavens above, Emile was about to start wiggling excitedly because, gosh, he really, really just had to kiss Remy, right now. And maybe – maybe, maybe, maybe – Remy would say yes if he asked.

Emile let out another giggle, covering his mouth with his hand.

“You... you do?” Remy asked, eyes wide and hopeful, and Emile was suddenly glad that the sunglasses were propped up on his head, as his expression was always much easier to read that way.

“Yeah,” Emile responded, equally soft. “I really, really do.”

“Wow. Just- just wow.”

Emile reached forward, impulsively cupping Remy’s cheek with his hand, and Remy froze. His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

“Oh, gosh- sorry,” Emile apologised. “I should’ve asked-”

He moved to take his hand away, but was stopped by Remy covering Emile’s hand with his own.

“You’re good- you're- yes. Yes.”

And, well, that was exactly the answer that Emile had wanted to hear.

He leant forward, and finally – finally! – did the thing he’d most wanted to do for years. Years. Since the moment he’d first laid eyes on Remy, he’d thought about it.

He kissed Remy.

Softly. Carefully. Holding Remy’s face so delicately like he was holding something precious.

And the way Remy was kissing him back...

Emile had seen Remy kiss people before – strangers, friends – and he’d always kissed them like he was doing it for fun, not love. He’d never seen Remy kiss anyone as gently as Remy was kissing him, right now.

Bubbles of delight and fireworks of excitement were going off in Emile’s heart and his mind.

He sighed happily into the kiss, and he could suddenly feel Remy smile against his lips.

Emile broke the kiss with another delighted giggle and Remy couldn’t help but just start laughing with him, too. And, of course, that just made Emile’s giggles louder and more enthusiastic.

He was so focused on the laughing and the delighted feeling in his chest from the fact that he had just kissed Remy, that Emile didn’t immediately notice that Remy’s lips were suddenly pink – a light, pastel pink that certainly hadn’t been there before.

And, in fact, it was Remy who halted the laughter first, by freezing in place and staring – yet again wide-eyed – at Emile’s own lips.

Emile paused, and tilted his head in confusion.

“Remy?”

Remy opened and closed his mouth a few times, never taking his eyes off of Emile’s lips.

“Em... your- your lips.”

Emile blinked. He reached a hand up to his own lips, and swiped a finger across them. He then looked back down at his hand, and found nothing – no blood, no anything.

He paused, and then turned his head to look at the mirror that hung on an opposite wall.

His eyes landed on his reflection, and he finally noticed that there was a smear of shiny silver across his lips that definitely, definitely hadn’t been there before.

Emile sucked in a breath as Remy turned his head to look into the mirror, and he realised that Remy’s lips were now a lipstick-like pink, when he certainly hadn’t been wearing any just before the pair had kissed.

“We’re-” Remy started.

“Oh,” Emile breathed.

“Oh,” Remy echoed.

They turned their heads to stare at each other, equally wide-eyed and shocked and excited.

Soulmates.

They were soulmates.

And then Remy surged forward, and kissed Emile again.

[mrs-gucci]

The Angel, Chapter One: Intel {Flip Zimmerman x biker!Reader}

Chapter One: “Intel”

series summary. The Angels are the newest biker gang in town, looking to dethrone the current high-riders, The Sharks, a notoriously violent gang. Fresh off the Klan case, Detective Flip Zimmerman and his new partner, Detective Ron Stallworth, are tasked with finding out more information about this new gang. After a passionate affair behind the bar with a mysterious woman calling herself Siren, Flip discovers that perhaps he’s a bit closer to this investigation than he originally counted on. Can he manage to use this newly-recruited ally to not only take down The Sharks before they strike again, but perhaps use it to benefit his lonesome personal life as well? Find out all this and more in “The Angel”!

chapter summary. Flip and Ron head over to Ace’s, a local bar in Colorado Springs to gather intel on The Angels, the newest biker gang in town. The young detective gets more than he bargained for when he meets and beds a mystery woman named Siren. Except ‘Siren’ ends up being the last person Flip expected to get intimate with and now, he’s entangled in this case, both professionally and personally.

table of contents. Intel (NSFW) * Saint Siren Turned  Sharks Intercepted Epilogue

(a * indicates where you are in the table of contents)

author’s notes: hello, hello! saw a few bikers as I was driving on the highway, and my mind decided that I wanted to write a multi-chap fic about flip with a biker gang reader love interest. I love exploring the whole ‘flip with an independent/dom fem reader’ trope. so, here I am, designating an entire ten chapters to it.

**this multi-chap will have 5 parts total (4 ‘story’ chapters and an epilogue). due to the shorter number of chapters/parts, expect each to be longer, usually between 4-6k words.

word count: 6.1k 

warnings: smut. heavy flirting. swearing. a generous amount of dirty talk. degradation. oral sex. reader smokes. use of the term ‘pig’ to describe the police.

(possible) tw’s: tobacco use (as is canon for flip’s character). public sex.

my taglist peeps: @frank-and-honey @shygirl268​ (if you’d like to be added to my taglist, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist. I’m also willing to do a series-specific taglist if enough people are interested!)

---

“Alright, everyone. Rumor has it that there’s a new biker gang in town, called ‘The Angels’.” Chief Bridges says. “We gotta be on top of this, make sure they’re not the violent type.”

Flip rubs his chin, stroking his beard as he listens to the limited intel the department has on this new group. 

“I’m putting Zimmerman and Stallworth on this one. You’re gonna hang out at some of the local watering holes, see if you can gather some more information on this new group.”

His eyebrows raise and he looks over at his partner. “C’mon Chief, don’t you think our talents could be used elsewhere? It’s just an intel mission, a beat cop could do it.”

“This is incredibly important, Zimmerman, and I only trust my top talent to do the job right.” Bridges crosses his arms, staring daggers at the dark-haired detective. “It’ll be a quick job, I’m sure. No more than a week’s time. Now, get over yourself and do the damn job.”

He huffs softly, nodding as he looks away. “Sure thing, Chief.”

“You’ll head to Ace’s tonight, since that’s where they’re said to hang the most. Meeting dismissed.”

Everyone piles out of the small conference room and back out into the bullpen. Flip lights a cigarette as he sits down at his desk and continues typing up a report from last week’s home invasion-robbery. 

Ron sets the ‘Angels’ file down on his desk a few minutes later, sighing as he sits on the edge.

“What are you thinkin’ about this case, Flip?”

“I just wanna get it over with, rookie.” He leans back in his chair, shrugging and taking a drag. “I think it’s nothing to worry about, since they haven’t done anything yet, but the Chief wants us to check it out so I guess we have to.”

Ron nods.

“Well, we’ll head over to Ace’s after work. Hopefully we’ll find something and then we can get back to finding the Sharks.”

The Sharks were the biggest gang in Colorado Springs, spreading violence and dominating the northern part of town. But, all of them wore masks or helmets with masks, so no one’s been able to identify any of them. 

“Mmhmm.”

Flip hums, stubbing the cigarette butt out in the mug on his desktop.

Before he knows it, the clock hand lands on 6, and everyone starts packing up. Flip gets up and puts his freshly-typed reports on the Chief’s desk before heading over to Ron’s desk. 

“You ready to go, rookie?” He asks, hopping up on his partner’s desk.  “I need a fuckin’ beer.”

Ron laughs, shaking his head as he stands up and both men walk back to get the mics and listening equipment together. Flip clips the lauve to his white undershirt, then re-buttons his signature buffalo plaid flannel. 

They head out and hop into Flip’s pickup truck. He pulls away from the station and heads down the freeway towards Ace’s while Ron sets up all the audio equipment in the front seat. 

The parking lot of Ace’s is almost full when the two detective’s pull in, and when Flip puts the truck in park, he immediately catches sight of a series of bikes parked at the front. 

“They’re here.” He says in a low voice, nodding over to the bikes.  “I’m gonna go check the jackets to make sure.”

Flip casually gets out from the cab and walks over. He sees one of the jackets draped over the seats with the words ‘The Angels’ and a logo on the back. 

“Yup,” He says to Ron through the window of his truck. “It’s them.”

Ron’s eyes widen slightly. “Well then, get in there, partner. See what you can find.”

He chuckles, sticking a cigarette between his teeth and flicking his lighter on as he walks into the bar. His eyes scan the room, looking for biker-like characters, but his attention is quickly drawn to a certain young woman sitting at the bar. 

She’s not much younger than himself, if Flip had to guess, and her subtle smile was infectious. Flip was absolutely taken with her, but he maintained his cool, approaching the bar. 

“Hey, Earl.” He says, leaning against the bar.  “Get me a Miller, would you?”

“Sure thing.” The bartender nods, giving Flip a handshake before heading over to the beer fridge. 

You can’t help but look over at the handsome man that’s leaning against the bar. His eyes move over to you, and yours dart away quickly. He smirks, and when you look back over, he gives you a quick wink.

Your cheeks warm as you and the handsome stranger make eyes at each other. You’ve only been in town for a little while, and you’ve certainly never seen someone like him around before. 

Once the bartender hands him the dark brown bottle, mister tall, dark and handsome casually makes his way over to where you’re seated. His presence is intimidating in itself, patrons suddenly hushing their voices as he stands behind you.

“Like what you see?” He asks in a low voice, smirking. You chuckle.

“Perhaps, although you don’t have much competition. The human eye is naturally drawn to the most appealing sight in the room and quite frankly, I’m so damn tired of looking at old white men. You were the reprieve.”

“Mmhmm.” Flip laughs, sitting down next to you at the bar, pulling out a cigarette and holding it between his teeth as he flicks his lighter on. “I’m impressed at your ability to spin such a convenient story for your obvious ogling.”

“Don’t act so innocent, prettyboy. Your eyes were not keeping to themselves either.”

You huff softly, taking a drink, the smoke from his latest drag clouding the space between you.

 “Perhaps.” He retorts, taking a sip of his beer before looking over at you. “What’s your name?”

“Oh, I bet you’d like to know.” You hum softly. “You can call me Siren.”

His eyebrows furrow.  “Siren, really? What, is that a nickname or something?”

“Something, yes.”

He’s intrigued by your mysterious and closed-off presence, your casual yet extremely confident demeanor. God, how he’d love to make you crumble on his cock, scream his name and beg him for release.

The thought has him stirring in his Levi’s.

“Phillip.” He says after a beat of silence, taking a drag off his cigarette. “In case you were wondering.”

Back in the truck, Ron shakes his head. “Did you really just use your own name, Zimmerman?”

Flip realizes his slight mistake, mentally kicking himself for not having an alias name already prepared.

Your finger swirls around the rim of the whisky glass. “I wasn’t.”

His eyebrows raise for a moment. He liked this game you’re playing with him, in fact, he loves it. 

Finally, a woman giving him the thrill of the chase, making him work for it.

“Are you new in town, Miss Siren? I think I would remember seeing someone like you around here before.”

You nod silently. “Got here a few weeks ago. I’ve got some business to take care of, y’know, tie up some loose ends and such. Then I’ll be out of here.”

“What’s the rush in getting out of here? You don’t like it?”

Your lips curl up into a small smirk. “If I didn’t know any better, it almost sounds like you’re sad to hear that I’ll be leavin’ soon, prettyboy.”

He huffs softly in amusement, although his liking of your nickname for him is much greater than he anticipated or would ever admit aloud.  “No, nothing like that. Just curious, is all.”

“I’m more of a city girl. All this fresh mountain air makes me sick.” You quip, smiling softly. “I like the polluted smell of New York much better.”

Flip laughs. “Oh, a city slicker. Yuck.”

Now it’s your turn to laugh. He’s kinda cool.

“What, Colorado Springs isn’t enough to convert you, or at least open your mind to the idea?”

He takes one final long drag before crushing the butt out in the ashtray on the bar.

Your eyes linger on his seated figure for a moment before turning your attention back directly in front of you.

“Well, now that I’ve met some more of the locals, I’m thinkin’ about it a little more.”

“Yeah?”

His voice lowers an octave as he leans in a bit closer, one of his large calloused hands now resting on your denim-covered thigh. You shiver slightly beneath his touch, the smell of cigarette smoke and freshly-chopped lumber intoxicating as it ensnares your senses.

“I think you’d like it out here, if you gave it a shot. We’ve got a few things New York can’t offer.”

You’re biting your lip as his husky voice rasps in your ear, his close proximity thickening the tension between you. You haven’t been this rattled by a man in a long time, and damn, it feels good.

“Oh really? And what is that, besides trees and grass, hm?”

His chuckle makes you squirm in your seat.

“Men. Real men. Not the city pussies that gel their hair up all fancy and can’t get a speck of dirt on themselves without throwin’ a damn fit. I mean...”

“Big,” He leans a bit closer.  “Strong,” Closer. “Men.”

His lips are practically on top of your ear now, hot breath tickling your eardrum. He smirks. “And that’s all you’ve ever really wanted, isn’t it, slick? A big strong man to take care of you, protect you...satisfy your every whim and desire.”

You can barely see straight, vision blinded by the sheer lust rolling off his tongue. He’s so damn cocky, a real alpha male type, and you were eating it up. You couldn’t wait to break him.

“I’ll have to see it to believe it, prettyboy.” You say, voice unwavering as you turn to look him directly in the eyes with a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lip.  “So why don’t you go ahead and prove it, hm? I’d like to see you try.”

His jaw clenches along with his fists, body turning lurching forward slightly to the edge of the chair, now fully facing your side. 

“You’re walking an awfully thin line with that trap of yours, slick. I’d watch yourself, ‘cause the folks out here won’t hesitate, like city folk do, to make an example outta brats like you.”

Your eyes don’t leave his as you lean forward a bit, challenging him right back. “Lotta big talk from you this evening, prettyboy, but no action has come to match these claims. All bark, no bite, just like everyone else in this town.”

Flip is hard as a fucking rock, erection urgently pressing against the seam of his Levi’s, but he can’t even focus on that right now. You work him up like no one else ever has before, and he’s not about to let you just leave with the last word. No, he’ll have the last word tonight if it fucking kills him.

“You wanna see some fuckin’ bite, slick?” He growls, standing up and grabbing hold of your jaw, keeping a firm grip on it. “Talk to me like that again and see what happens.”

You grin deviously, wrapping your hand around his wrist, holding it as you remove your jaw from his grip.

“Heard it all before and nobody’s gotten me just yet. You’re no different, prettyboy.”

A twenty is thrown on the tabletop and then you’re leaving.

His blood is boiling, cock twitching with excitement as he lets you walk out of the bar, letting you think you can get away with this. Then, as soon as you’re outside, he strides across the room, flings the door open, and grabs your arm.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

He walks you to the side alley and pins you to the bricks, body caging yours in. You’re breathless and defenseless against him as his wiry whiskers tickle the side of your neck. His legs spread out and his large hands grip your hips as he scoops down, grinding his arousal against your ass with one long, rough stroke.

The denim-trapped bulge presses incessantly against your backside when he stills and lights up a smoke behind you, taking a brief drag, exhaling through his nose.

“Y’know, I work hard all damn day, seven days a week, bust my fuckin’ ass to get shit done.” He stands up again, kicking your ankle so your legs spread open. You gasp softly at his brazen moves, which only fuels his arousal. “I come here to kick back a few beers and have a few cigarettes, relax, unwind…”

 His hands yank your jeans down your hips suddenly, then one curls around to cup your clothed mound, lifting up against you.

“But instead of that, now, I have to bring you out here and fuck some goddamn manners into your bratty cunt before I can go back in to finish my beer.”

You can barely formulate words at the moment, his every move dripping with pure power and unwavering dominance. You’re absolutely taken by him, but that doesn’t mean you won’t fulfill your own agenda. 

Let him think he’s the boss, that he’s got you wrapped around his finger. It’ll only wreck him harder in the end.

The small jingle of his belt buckle being undone brings you back to reality, as well as his fingers swiping over your clit through the material of your panties. He pulls away for a moment, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, yanking them down far enough so that he can pull his length out. 

Luckily, due to his massive body size and the fact that you’re in a dark alleyway behind a dumpster, nothing is too exposed in case someone happens to come by and see the little show about to unfold.

Your panties are torn down your legs quickly and his digits swipe through your warmth. He smirks when he feels how wet you are.

“Now I can call you slick for two reasons.” He chuckles darkly into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “I knew you liked this, dirty girl. Bet you’ve been wet all night since I came into the bar.”

His fingers trace over your clit, pressure on and off with his lazy circles, and within seconds he’s got you gyrating against him. Then, suddenly, he pulls away and steps back, hand on your shoulder. He flips you around quickly so that you’re facing him, then forces you back against the wall, flicking his abandoned cigarette away onto the black pavement.

“Why’d you turn me around?” You ask nonchalantly.

He smears some of your fresh arousal onto the tip of his cock, moving it around over his girthy length while his fingers force themselves into your mouth, grabbing and pressing on your tongue.

“I decided that I wanna ruin your disobedient little mouth first. On your knees, use my boots as padding if you need.”

Your legs close and you cross them at the ankle, leaning back against the brick wall freely, arms crossed over your chest. His eyebrows raise and he pulls his fingers out of your mouth.

“Did you not hear me or something?” Flip asks, voice low. “On your damn knees, slick, or I’ll put you there myself.”

Silence. You don’t move a muscle, watching the frustration fester. He leans in suddenly, face real close.

“I’m gonna give you one last chance to do as I say before I force you down.”

Nothing.

His hand wraps in your prettily-done hair, holding the roots just above scalp-level, yanking harshly. He steps back a bit quickly as you cry out, hand on your shoulder, pushing you down as the shock and pain weakens your knees. 

Your knees rest on his work boots and his impressive arousal is lip-level, now. He loosens his grip on your hair ever so slightly, still holding you firmly as he rubs his head over your cherry red lips.

“Don’t make me take this from you too, slick.” He warns.

You offer him a cheeky, close-mouthed smile, batting your eyelashes teasingly. He snarls, pulling your hair again, and when you yelp in pain, he pushes his hips forward. His cock forces itself into your mouth and your eyes widen, choking immediately at the sudden intrusion. 

Flip’s head falls back and his eyes squeeze shut as your throat contracts around his length. He holds your head, keeping your mouth wrapped around him, and he gives you a quick look of concern, breaking character for a moment. 

Once you give him a quick wink and small smile, indicating that everything’s okay, he draws back before pushing forward again. He establishes a consistent back-and-forth rhythm, grunting softly with each thrust of his hips. You’re taking him so well, better than anyone before. Your choking and gagging has essentially ceased within the first minute or so, the quickest recovery Flip has ever experienced.

Look, he knows he’s got a nice cock, there’s no denying it, especially when he’s got women chanting it in his ear on a weekly basis. It’s long and girthy with a slight upward curve that gives him the ability to hit the g-spot almost every time. Plus, he knows how to use it properly.

But, women often have trouble taking him or making him feel good with oral sex because he’s always concerned that he’s genuinely hurting them. A lot of women are also very intimidated by his size, which doesn’t help him in feeling okay about it. 

You, however, didn’t say a word, give it a concerned look, or hesitate even a bit when he put you on your knees. You’re something else.

He groans, fucking your mouth even harder, hands on the sides of your head. Your eyes are watering and tears have already begun spilling down your cheeks, but you’re not complaining in the slightest. He looks so incredible like this, restrain and composure slipping as the pleasure begins to consume him.

You do your best to establish a bit of suction on his length, and when a guttural growl emerges from above you, you know you’ve done it. His hips lose their rhythm soon after, cock throbbing in your mouth, meaning he’s close. 

He’s panting heavily, spine curling as he fucks your mouth harder, shuddering every once and a while from the sheer amounts of lust coursing through his veins. 

Just before his release, he forces himself to pull away, a strangled groan of agony rumbling through his chest as his shaft bobs angrily at the lost orgasm. 

“Christ!”

You catch your breath for a moment, but that moment is brief because within thirty seconds, he’s got his hand wrapped around your jaw.

“S-S…” He takes a second to compose himself. “Stand up, turn around, take your panties off and spread your fucking legs.”

This time, much to his surprise, you obey, getting into position with little resistance. He smirks, giving your ass a quick swat before rubbing his head through your folds.

“Mmm, shit, you got wetter just from having your face fucked?”

His chin digs into your shoulder as he lines himself up with your entrance. He pushes in quickly with a long, low groan, then settles inside of you to allow for an adjustment period. 

Your eyes go wide and you whimper, walls stretching out to accommodate the large intrusion. Soon, you move your hips a bit, looking over your shoulder.

“You can m-move.”

Flip nods, drawing back before pressing his hips forward again, sighing through his nose as he picks up a steady thrusting rhythm.

“Fuck you’ve got a good little cunt, wrapped around me so goddamn tight.” He growls in your ear, mouth lazily kissing and nipping at your neck.

The burn of being stretched out subsides soon after he begins, replaced with copious amounts of pleasure, jaw slacked as your body jolts back and forth with each powerful movement.

“I can feel you clenching around me, slut...I know you like this. I wanna hear you fucking admit it.” He breathes. “Tell me how good I’m making you--fuck--feel. Tell me how much better my cock feels fucking you than any--goddamnit--other f-fuckin’ city slicker’s cock.”

When he doesn’t get a response, his pace suddenly quickens a bit and one of his hands comes up to wrap around your throat, squeezing experimentally.  “Say it, slick, admit it!”

“Y-You, you feel...okay.”

You smirk, eyes squeezing shut when he brushes against a particularly sensitive spot inside you.

Flip huffs. “You’re a fucking brat--god fucking damnit.”

He snarls, hand closing tighter around your neck, lips right up against your ear.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ destroy you, slick. I’m gonna fuck your tight cunt so hard and stuff you so fucking full of my cum, make it run down your fucking thighs when you go home. You’re gonna have to walk into your fuckin’ house with my cum leaking out of you like the dirty slut you are.”

A loud whine comes from your lips, goosebumps spreading like wildfire over your skin at his words. You’re close already, the anticipation and sensations too much to hold off much longer.

“I know you’re lying, slick, I know you love this fucking cock, and I know you’re close. Say it, say it and I’ll make you cum so fucking hard you can’t see straight for the rest of the night.”

He growls into your ear, panting heavily.

“All you gotta do is--shit--say it and I’ll give you what you want, what we both know you want.”

Your walls clench and pulse around his shaft, preparing for your approaching orgasm. But, even though the temptation is sweet, you hold out.

“Eh, I’ve h-had better. You’re really--oh--not t-that big, prettyboy.”

“Fuck!”

His reaction is exactly what you were looking for, hips thrusting impossibly quick as his hands grab your wrists and pin your hands behind your back. Part of him liked this, being called ‘small’ and being taunted, although he’d never admit it to anyone.

“It’s your fucking loss, slick.”

“Oh, is it?” You smirk, adjusting your hips subtly until you find the right spot, crying out softly as you teeter on the edge of orgasm. “I don’t t-think so--fuck!”

“NO! Goddamnit, f-fuck...NO!” He tries to stop your climax, but it’s too late, you’re already there.

“Y-Yes, fuck...yes!”

You’re trembling as you ride out your intense high, his hips pumping you into a delicious overstimulation.

Your release gushes out around him and Flip feels his own climax rapidly approaching, hips starting to lose their rhythm.

Flip’s absolutely pissed that you made yourself cum, allowing his frustration to fuel his thrusts. His teeth sink into the muscle on the curve of your neck, drilling into you as hard as he can manage.

“Brat!”

He snarls against your skin.

“You’re a fucking d-dirty, filthy--yeah, so fuckin’ tight--naughty brat! O-Oh fuck, shit, gonna--fuck goddamnit--cum…”

“Are you gonna cum? Fill me up, prettyboy?”

You clench around him one more time, bringing him over the edge. 

“Oh f-fuck, yes, gonna--unnhh!”

Being fully prepared to bury his load deep inside you, fill you up, it took him by great surprise when you suddenly pulled him out of you. His eyes fly open and a choked cry leaves his lips.

“FUCK, N-NO!”

He roars, load erupting out onto the bricks and alleyway pavement instead of inside you. His hips rut forward instinctively as he rides out his high, groaning against your skin.

You smirk, slipping out from beneath his grip, pulling your panties back up over your hips. He’s still panting and recovering from his climax, hands spread on the cool brick of the building, eyes catching sight of his seed dripping down the wall as he redresses.

Before you walk away, you run a hand through his silky black mane. You give it a gentle tug, earning a low growl from the handsome man.

“Told ya, no one’s gotten me yet and no one ever will.” You pat his cheek, giving him a soft smile. “Have a good rest of your night, prettyboy.”

You’re quickly overtaken, within the first few steps of walking back towards the front entrance, by a large set of hands. Flip turns you around in his arms and crashes his lips on yours, pulling you close to him.

At first, you’re taken by surprise, but that lasts for only a few seconds before you melt into his touch, melding your lips with his. He pulls away a minute later, a big smug smirk stretched across his face.

“Good night, slick.”

He walks back towards the side door, lighting a cigarette on his way, leaving you frozen in suspension for a moment. Every inch of your skin, every fiber of your being, is buzzing. You find yourself unable to wipe the small smile off your face as you walk back towards the front of the bar.

You look through the window of the bar as you slip your leather jacket on, then your helmet before swinging your leg over your bike. The engine rumbles, ground quaking beneath it as you pull out of the parking lot and onto the freeway, wind whipping around your body as you disappear into the cool Colorado night.

-

Flip is drunk on you as he pays for his drinks and stubs his cigarette out in the plastic ashtray on the bar. The damn bastard’s essentially grinning and giggling with joy as he walks back out to his truck, or at least ‘grinning and giggling’ by Flip’s standards, which pretty much just means a small smile.

It’s quickly wiped from his face when he sees Ron in the passenger seat. He hadn’t even thought about the fact that Ron was listening the whole time, and he can only hope that his partner took the headphones off before anything too explicit happened.

He hops up into the cab and immediately, Ron begins chuckling to himself. 

“Oh, shut up.”

He says, frowning as he backs out of the parking lot.

“I hope you took the headphones off.”

“So, did you find out anything about The Angels?”

Ron asks, snickering.

“Or did you focus on learning more about the inside of her mouth?”

Flip growls under his breath, rolling his eyes.

“Can it, rookie. We’ll go back tomorrow. And, for the record, I cased the joint when I walked in, and there were no bikers in sight. No one that seemed the type, y’know?”

“Well, the bikes were there. They had to be there, right?”

His jaw clenches, kicking himself for losing focus. Although, he doesn’t exactly regret anything he did with you, he just wishes he had worked the case a bit beforehand. 

“They should’ve been there, but I’m telling you, there was no one.”

Ron gives him a look and Flip shakes his head.

“Look, I know what it looks like, but I’m serious. I cased the joint when I went in, and there was no one even close to the basic look of a biker gang.”

His partner sighs.

“I know, and I trust you, Zimmerman. We’ll go back tomorrow, like you said. We should go a bit earlier, maybe try and catch these bikers coming to the bar.”

“Agreed.”

Flip nods as he pulls back into the station, sighing when he puts the truck in park.

“Alright, let’s go report to the Chief.”

The Next Day

It’s another long ass day at the station, although there was a bit of excitement when the Chief went out to his squad car and found the window busted out.

Everyone chuckled to themselves as he flipped his shit, almost as if he’d temporarily forgotten that he was a police chief. 

Flip and Ron went out to lunch at the local diner, discussing the ‘Angels’ case, and of course Flip’s back-alley hookup last night, much to the detective’s dismay. 

He just resorted to sucking down as many cigarettes as he could while Ron fired off questions, hoping the nicotine buzz would get him through this all quicker. It didn’t.

Finally, with the Chief’s approval, Ron and Flip head out at five to Ace’s in hopes of spotting The Angels as they come to the bar.

Luckily, when they reach the bar, there are no motorcycles in sight. Flip backs the truck into a spot facing where the motorcycles were last night, putting it in park before lighting up a smoke. He and Ron pass the time with some casual chit-chat before the telltale rumble of motorcycle engines.

The first bike comes into view, the leader no doubt, and slowly rolls up to the front of the bar, foot planting on the pavement. There’s something so oddly familiar about this leader to Flip, the way they move, their demeanor in general, but he thinks little of it, determined to actually focus on the case this time. 

Once the whole gang has pulled up, Flip grabs his notepad and a pencil, ready to write down the names on their jackets while Ron pulls out his camera. The bikers' engines all shut off almost simultaneously, pavement settling back into the dirt as they all dismount their bikes. 

Flip looks at all the names on their jackets, each beginning with ‘Saint’, writing all five of them down before pausing when he reaches the leader’s jacket. It read ‘Saint Siren’, glitter-infused stitching catching in the evening sunset. 

No, it can’t be.

Saint Siren reaches up to pull their helmet off, and when they do, Flip is stunned into utter and total silence. It’s you...you’re Saint Siren. 

You're the leader of ‘The Angels’.

Ron’s snapping a bunch of pictures as the rest of the gang takes their helmets off, revealing the women beneath each. Both detectives were surprised to see that ‘The Angels’ were all women, considering the general ‘man-ness’ of biker gangs.

Your hair flutters in the gentle breeze as you hang your helmet on the handlebar of your bike, reaching into your jacket pocket for a cigarette and lighter, hand shielding the flame from the gentle breeze. 

“Zimmerman?”

Flip faintly hears his partner say, but he doesn’t process it, too focused on the reality hitting.

“Zimmerman!” Ron says, shaking his partner’s arm.

“What’s the matter with you?”

His eyes dart over to Ron, a serious expression etched on his face.

“That’s her. That’s the girl from last night.”

His eyes widen in disbelief. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m fuckin’ sure!” He snarls. “I only spent all night with her. I’m not that shallow, rookie.”

Ron stifles a laugh. “Uh huh. Well, now we understand why no one could ever figure out who this gang was. No one would ever suspect women to be bikers, much less in a biker gang.”

Your jacket is taken off and draped neatly over the seat of your bike, and Flip quickly tosses his notebook on the dash, clipping the lauve to his undershirt with a sense of urgency. His face is steadily turning redder the more he thinks about it, and Ron can almost see the smoke coming from his ears. He’d be whistling like a damn tea kettle if that were true. 

“What are you gonna do when you get in there? Remember what the Chief wants, intel only.”

Flip huffs, buttoning his flannel back up before flicking on the microphone set on the front seat, tapping the top of the machine. “I know how to do my damn job, I know what Chief said. Just be sure to listen and write the important stuff down.”

He hops down, the heels of his work boots reverberating off the pavement as he walks, more like storms, into the bar.

Earl, the bartender, greets him, but he’s already closing in on you. He doesn’t even hesitate, just walking right up to the table you’re sitting at and putting his hand on the top.

“Can I speak with you a minute?” He says in the calmest voice he can muster at this point, staring daggers at you, teeth gritted. “Please?”

All the girls look up at him, then back over at you, awaiting your answer. You stub out the cigarette between your lips before gesturing for Gladys to scoot out of the booth. She does, and you slide out, standing in front of the familiar man.

“Lead the way, Flip.”

He spins around on his heel, then stops, stomach dropping. How do you know that name?

You giggle to yourself as you walk by and out to the alley. He’s hot on your tail, slamming the door shut behind him, bounding down the stairs.

“I figured it out pretty quickly.” You say, twirling your hair as you lean back against the wall, arms crossed in front of you. “After I saw the mic clipped to your undershirt last night. Looked through the yellow pages this morning and found the contact information for one Detective Phillip Zimmerman of the Colorado Springs Police Department. There’s only one other man by the name of Phillip living in this town, and he’s the guy down at the gas station.”

“Could’ve been a fake name.”

Your lips curl up into a smirk. “Yeah, coulda been a fake name, I guess. But I saw the way you reacted when you said it, looked like you wanted to kick yourself in the nutsack. The mic on your shirt tied it all together, and then when I did some surveillance on the station, I saw you.”

Flip isn’t sure if he’s more nervous or impressed by your ability to observe and fact-find. 

“I’m not the only one that hid my true identity last night, Saint Siren. Nor are you the only one that did surveillance today.” He growls, standing in front of you. “You’re one of the ‘Angels’, the leader, in fact.”

Your face is unchanging, still wearing a neutral expression, before a small smirk tugs at your lips.

“Congratulations, Detective. I’m a little surprised you didn’t put two-and-two together last night when you read the name on my jacket.”

His eyes widen, which makes you laugh. Had your name really been on the jacket that he’d seen, and he just missed it?

“Saw you not so discreetly snooping around the bikes before you came in last night. You ought to check your surroundings a little more thoroughly before ‘casually’ sauntering by the bikes and leaning over to read the jackets...someone might see you.”

You laugh quietly, shoving your hands into your jean pockets.

He’s pissed, you can tell, but there’s also a sense of respect buried deep within his gaze, and perhaps there’s even a bit of desire mixed in, too.

“I...you’re…”

Suddenly, an idea pops into his head, and the rage suddenly melts away. He could use this to his advantage.

“Join me.”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you look up at him. “You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m not. Think about it, it’s beneficial for both of us. You want to knock the Sharks on their asses and kick ‘em outta town, and I want to stop them from taking over the whole town. We both get what we want.”

You just burst out into laughter.  “You’re a funny guy, Detective, thinking I’d ever even consider becoming an informant. Ha! Sure, I hate the Sharks and I wanna kick ‘em out, but I don’t need the pig’s help for that.”

His jaw clenches. 

“You’re trying to turn her now, Zimmerman? What the hell are you thinking? INTEL, Zimmerman, we’re here for ANGELS INTEL, not the Sharks.”

He shakes off his partner’s words, staring deep into your eyes.

“You know this is a good idea, I know you do, slick. All we need are some names. It’ll be quick work, and in return, we’ll help you get rid of them and stay off your ass after they’re gone, as long as you don’t start or engage in any violent altercations.” 

“Man, you gotta stop. You can’t make promises like that without the Chief’s approval. C’mon, Zimmerman, get outta there!”

“I’m not falling for that bullshit, and I’m not becoming a pig, even if it’s only for a few weeks.” You say, pushing off the wall and standing up straight. “G’night, Detective.”

Flip quickly grabs you before you can even take a step back towards the door, holding your arms as he steps up behind you.

“I never say things I don’t mean, and I never make promises I can’t keep, slick.”

He grabs one of his business cards out from his wallet, teasingly sliding it in your back pocket, giving your ass a quick squeeze.  “In case you change your mind.”

Your skin has erupted in goosebumps as you walk back into the bar, overly conscious of the business card tucked into your back pocket, gently poking your bottom with each stride.

As you sit with your crew, drinking and chatting the night away, you can’t stop thinking about this proposal. 

The thought of being an informant scares you.  The thought of turning on the Sharks scares you.

What scares you the most, though?

You’re ready to get to work.

[rizlowwritessortof]

Meant To Be - Chapter 2

Dean and Jordan are each trying to escape their painful pasts. Their chance meeting and a dangerous encounter begins a relationship that may give them both a new start.

Pairing: Police Detective Dean Winchester/Jordan Taylor

Word Count: 2050

Warnings: Abusive relationship and related violence, nothing graphic.

Aesthetic by @editsbymichele on Instagram; Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Dean pulled on his jeans and shoved his feet into his running shoes, then grabbed his gun, clipping his badge onto his waistband before heading outside.

Jordan’s car was engulfed in flames, and the sound of one of the windows exploding from the heat made him jump. “Fucking hell,” he muttered, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of Darrel. He had to be close, watching, probably waiting for Jordan to come out. He heard sirens in the distance as he doubled back and went around behind the building.

He moved quickly to the other end of the structure, peering through the darkness for a sign of his prey, then moved across to the backyard of the houses that lined the east side of the block. He moved carefully, almost silent, from one yard to the next until he spotted Darrel watching the fire from behind a tree near the corner house. As he drew closer, he could hear the man mumbling, “Come on, Jordan, where the hell are you?”

Dean stepped up behind him, pressing the muzzle of his gun against the base of his skull. “She’s in her room, right where I told her to stay, dickbag.”

“Man, who the fuck are you?” Darrel blurted out in frustration as he raised his hands.

“Well, for one thing, I’m a cop. And the local boys are on the way, so let’s go meet ‘em.”

“All I wanted was for her to come out, so we could talk.”

Dean snorted and shoved the gun against Darrel’s head, urging him along. “Social skills are really not your strong suit, are they, Darrel?”

Dean marched his reluctant prisoner back to the motel parking lot, holding his badge high as the police cruiser pulled in, followed by the fire department. The officers got out, guns drawn, and Dean shoved the gun into the back of Darrel’s neck again. “Move.” He tossed his badge to one officer, who examined it and handed it back. “This guy is your arsonist. He also assaulted the woman who owns this car earlier today and tried to abduct her. Sorry, don’t have my cuffs on me, so if you’d do the honors...” He gave Darrel a push, filling the officers in on the details as they cuffed the prisoner. As he finished with his report, Jordan flew by him in a furious blur.

“You son of a bitch!” She shouted into Darrel’s face, then rocked back and punched him square in the face with everything she had. The man howled in pain, blood spurting from his nose, and Dean grabbed Jordan’s arm, pulling her away.

“Fuckin’ bitch broke my nose!” Darrel yelled, as an officer, struggling not to laugh, pressed a wad of tissues to his face. “I wanna press charges!”

“For what? I didn’t see anything. You guys see anything?” Dean asked, unable to smother the grin on his face.

“Nope. Didn’t see a thing,” the arresting officer answered with a wink at Jordan. They walked Darrel over to the rescue squad, letting them staunch the bleeding before shoving him into the back seat of the cruiser. With a nod in Dean’s direction, they backed out and headed for the police station.  

As soon as they pulled away, Jordan bent over, groaning in pain, her hand shoved between her knees. “FUCK. Nobody ever told me how much that would hurt!”

Dean tried not to laugh as he reached for her injured hand. “Let me see.” He gave her hand a quick once-over, then put an arm around her shoulders and steered her back towards the room. “Nothing’s broken, at least. Come on, Sugar Ray. Let’s get some ice on it.”

He walked her around the fire truck and down to his room, ushering her in and seating her in a chair before heading to the bathroom for a towel and to the fridge for ice. She accepted the ice pack from him with a sheepish ‘Thank you’ and applied it, wincing. “I know, that was stupid. But damn, it felt good. For a minute, anyway.”

Dean laughed softly. “Yeah, I bet it did. He had it comin’.”

“So...” she glanced up, watching him pour more whiskey into cups for them both. “You didn’t tell me you were a cop.”

“You didn’t tell me you were an MMA fighter, either,” he joked, and she smiled, blushing.

“I’m not. I’ve never hit anybody before in my life.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he chuckled. “But you did a fan-fucking-tastic job of it.” He sat down across from her, sliding one of the drinks over her way.

She laughed softly. “Thanks.”

“Anyway, yeah – I’m a detective. Violent Crimes Division in Kansas City.”

“Oh. That sounds – dark.”

He geared back a little with a nod, a grim smirk on his lips. “Yeah. Sometimes,” he replied, downing a swallow of his whiskey. “So what do you do? Or did you do?”

“I worked for a local attorney. Small town, small office. Hated to leave him, he was a good boss, I’ve worked for him for years. But I needed to get the hell out of Dodge, you know?” She stared into her cup for a moment. “I don’t know what I’ll do now. My plan was to drive to Kansas City, find a cheap motel to live in until I found a job and a place to live. Can’t really drive anywhere now, thanks to that douchebag.”

“Law office, huh?”

“Yeah. I know, it sounds thrilling. But I ran the office, and I loved it. Just… finding something in the city is gonna be a lot different than working for someone I knew my whole life.”

They chatted for a while, until Jordan was yawning more than she was talking, the adrenaline gone and her exhaustion kicking in. Dean laughed softly, and she gave him a shy, sheepish smile. “Well, it is, what – 2:30 AM?? Are you kidding me?”

“Yeah, pretty late. Listen, why don’t you just crawl into the other bed and get some shut-eye. Tomorrow morning the local PD wants you to come in and give your statement, and then that’s hopefully the last you have to deal with Darrel.”

“God, I hope you’re right. But I don’t want to impose on your space...”

“Not imposing. I offered, and I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want you to. You’re barely keeping your eyes open, and we’ll both be asleep as soon as we hit our pillows.”

“Ok, I won’t argue.” Jordan stood and stretched, then headed for the extra bed, pulling the bedding back and slipping between the sheets with a sigh. Dean stopped in the doorway to the bathroom, looking over his shoulder at her.

“I’m gonna grab a quick shower. See you in the morning, Xena.” He flashed a grin and went in,  laughing as a pillow flew towards him, deflected by the quickly closed door.

Jordan fell asleep still smiling.

The next morning Dean was gone when she woke, squinting at the alarm clock next to the bed. It was only a little after 6 AM, but she dragged herself out of the warm cocoon of blankets and headed out the back door to her own room. After a shower and some clean clothes, she was feeling almost human, except for the nagging need for coffee. She was just figuring out the miniscule coffee maker in the kitchenette when a knock sounded at her front door. She peeked through the peephole, then smiled as she opened it to Dean, bearing two very large coffees.

“You are a saint,” she said gratefully as he handed her one of the steaming cups and set the other on the table.

“It’s been said,” he grinned, and she laughed. “I thought we’d have a primer, then head to Molly’s for some breakfast before we go down to the police station. If you want.”

“Oh, breakfast sounds amazing. I’ll bet Molly makes fantastic pancakes.”

“And bacon.” Dean’s eyes closed in pleasure at the thought. “Maybe a couple of eggs.”

“Ooooh, and hashbrowns!” She giggled, sipping at her coffee. “You’d think we didn’t stuff our faces with bacon cheeseburgers and fries last night.”

They took their time at Molly’s, eating their fill and lingering over their coffee, then drove to the police station late that morning. It took longer than Jordan had expected, but finally she was putting her signature to the documents and breathing a sigh of relief, hoping that chapter of her life was behind her at last.

Dean dropped her off at her room, and she spent the next couple of hours on the phone with her insurance company, grateful that they would pay for a tow company to haul her burned-out car to a junk yard. Buying a new vehicle would have to wait until she was back to work.

With that depressing thought, she flopped down on the bed and started sorting through the overwhelming List of Things To Do in her head. Get a rental car, find a cheap but hopefully safe hotel to stay in until she could afford an apartment, and, the biggie… FIND A JOB. In a new city, where she didn’t know her way around.

Her mind was still going in circles as she made more notes and chewed on her pencil, and her phone ringing made her jump. She saw Dean’s name and answered with a little laugh. “Hi, Dean.”

“You doing anything important right now?”

“Not really. Just trying to figure out what’s next for me. Haven’t been making much progress.”

“Well, I kinda wanted to talk to you about something. Can you come to my room? Sam’ll be showing up pretty soon, so I hate to leave.”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll be right over.”  

Dean was on his phone when he opened the door, and she walked in and took a seat at the table as he finished his conversation. “Okay, Sammy – see you in a while.” He grinned at her as he pulled out the chair across from her and plopped down.

“So, Dean, what’s up? There’s not a problem with the statement at the station or anything, is there?”

“No, nope, everything’s fine as far as I know. I just wanted to run something by you.”

She leaned back in her chair and looked at him, not sure what to expect. “Okay...”

“So, you’re headed to KC, right? That’s the plan?”

“Well, yeah – it was the plan before my car got torched. Now it’s getting more complicated.”

“Not really. It’s actually pretty simple. See, Sam and I are headed back there tomorrow morning. There’s no reason why you can’t just ride down with us.”

Jordan’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. Why not? We live there, anyway, we’re all headed to the same place. If you want. I’m not trying to push you or anything, but – we’d be more than happy to give you a ride.”

“Is – I mean, would your brother be okay with that?”

“Okay, second thing. So, I told Sam about your former job. See, he’s an attorney, and he just lost his legal assistant about three weeks ago. He hasn’t been able to find anybody else yet, and he’s dying to meet you.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I’m serious.”

“Dean, I don’t know what to say… The only thing is, I’ll need to rent a car so I can look for a place to live temporarily until I have a steady paycheck.”

Dean grinned. “Third thing. Talked to Donna, my partner. She lives in a two-bedroom place, and she’s been talking about getting a roomie. Not that you’d have to commit to that, but she said you’d be welcome to stay with her until you got settled down there. Or stay on as her roommate if you like it there and decide you want to, whatever.” Jordan was staring at him with her mouth open, so he continued. “Look, I know I just dumped a whole load of stuff on you, you don’t have to answer this second, but the offer – well, offers – are on the table.”

She moved her gaze to the table top and blew out an overwhelmed breath. Tears were stinging at her eyes as she looked back up at him. “Dean Winchester, where have you been my whole life?”

Chapter 3

[papabirdurskeks]

I ask this both for Baron Dark, Ariandel and SkekSo !

Give me a character and I will answer: @ben-the-hyena

Oh boy a triple feature! :D Here we go, folks!

Under a read more cause its going to get long but each listed character will be split apart evenly!

First up is Baron Dark!

Why I like them: He is just bombastic in personality! He lives loud in his actions and words, participating in most of the action himself while also showing he is a threat and menacing altogether! I also like that he is one of the few villains that shows he cares for his crew as a “family” (at least for most part of the series before being overtaken with obsession to have power more on his own). Given the dynamic we are given from the show, its obvious he cares and treats them all on a level of respect as well, something so rare to see nowadays! And I also enjoyed that his reasons to take over and do the shit he did in the series, “Because I can!” is just as refreshing and fun to see in a villain too!  And again, his design is a top tier design I love overall! Its menacing, powerful, and outright amazing! Definitely adds to the character and how well he works in effect to keeping my attention! Like just look at that design! And his VA did a wonderful job of adding to that charm that is just delightful to see in his personality! Overall, he is totally a villain I would love to see more of in the future!

Why I don’t: I say my dislikes often fall on the usual tropes of a kid’s show of the 90s. He talks too much when he could be doing things himself and falls victim to the typical “I am too powerful” but doesn’t think of the obvious steps ahead that will be his downfall. But honestly, its so small I don’t find it jarring or that bad to be in the way! It was the 90s and aimed at kids at the time, so we can’t expect TOO much out of that xD

Favorite episode (scene if movie): Oh man, that’s a tough one cause every scene/episode Baron is in he totally slays it! Its either a tie from the first episode to the very last one cause the stakes of start and finish are so well done, I love it all! 

Favorite season/movie: Obviously, the TV series is the best version of him! The comics sucked and turned him too OOC from what was initially given! Like how does one go from point A to be Z so freaking fast? xD

Favorite line: “Because I can.” Yeah, not gonna lie this was indeed my favorite line of his xD

Favorite outfit: Honestly, the outfit he gains near the end of the series is by far my favorite! Its like a mix of the Bejeweled Catacomb Saints and Mictlantechutli put in one and its befitting of the Baron given his gain in power! 

OTP: Baron and Cyborn are my OTP and are married, fight me. 

Brotp: Definitely Brotps with the rest of his henchmen though I see them more being like his adoptive children! 

Head Canon: Baron is of indigenous background! I also like to headcanon that the white tuft/strands in his hair are truly his and have been there since birth!  (I have so many more HCs for him but I will keep it short cause it can go all day x’) )

Unpopular opinion: Don’t think I have one, at the moment at least. 

A wish: To have gotten more information/lore on him and the entire cast, honestly! I would have loved to see more of his character explored and what more he could have had to offer as a series main villain! Hell, the whole damn series had so much to offer! And just the relationships he has with the others and what more he could have done post season and before! So much potential there to be explored! I honestly would not be objecting to a reboot/revival or continuation of the series! 

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: Though with that said, if a reboot does come around, don’t turn it into the mess of current cartoons we have. Not that they are all bad but most of them have been very disappointing in keeping my attention and liking. Keep the same type of messages it had before! It worked beautifully as it did then and still does work now! I’d love to see the same formulas used while also updating it to be more gritty and mature like they did for Castlevania! Just... Don’t turn it into a cringe worthy mess that will ruin Baron and all the characters in the series! Don’t do what the comics did! 

5 words to best describe them: Charmingly evil, badass, fun, conniving bastard, and menacing. 

My nickname for them: Mega dork (affectionately speaking)

Next is Ariandel!

Why I like them: Oh boy, there is a lot to say in terms of why I like him but I will try to keep it short and simple for time purposes!  His design is top tier for me! Like a rotting skull like face? Check! A monstrous body much like a bird’s? Check! And to add he is a giant Corvian, which are one of my favorite enemies in Dark Souls III!  His personality also differs from the usual loud, bombastic, and proud characters I tend to gravitate for. Instead, he’s withdrawn and rather sad to look at and hear. You know he’s going through a lot but don’t know exactly what it is. In game, one can sort of get hints as to what has gone on behind the scenes but at the same time, its still vague and hard to really pinpoint what really did happen. So he has that air of mystery to him that I honestly adore in many characters as it leaves room to explore deeper into their lore! But I also find his personality relatable as well as sympathetic.  But that���s just me, I can gush about him all day but I will cut it short here x’)

Why I don’t: To be honest I don't have any reason not to like Ariandel other then the small fact that he followed Friede and let the Painted World rot in such a terrible state. But that is so minor of an issue to me to really make a difference, lol. I adore this giant bird man!

Favorite episode (scene if movie): I have to say the scene where he ultimately snaps and breaks out of binds after seeing Friede's lifeless body before him is my favorite scene of his. The amount of pain and anguish heard in his scream and the way he moves prior and after; I can very much relate to that feeling. Sometimes, actions truly convey the emotions better in the most powerful means necessary. And this scene alone truly nailed it.

Favorite season/movie: He's only ever seen in the Dark Souls III DLC, so obvious answer points to the DLC!

Favorite line: "When the Ashes are two, a flame alighteth. Thou'rt Ash, and fire befits thee, of course..."

Favorite outfit: Uhh, he doesn't really wear any clothes save for his cape? So I guess the cape does him well as he is, though I always draw him without it xD

OTP: To be honest, I don't ship him with any canon characters within Dark Souls. Friede does not deserve him..

Brotp: Ariandel being best friends with the Ashen One is my ultimate Brotp! Just think of how much of a valuable ally he could have been!

Head Canon: I know his origins are debatable, as either theory I have for him can be plausible but I often lean more towards the idea of him being half Giant and half Corvian! IDK why but I just like it a lot more x’)

Unpopular opinion: While Ariandel is partly responsible for what happened to the Painted World, I still feel he was manipulated overall and probably at one point did have a change of heart before being forced into complete isolation. He plays more the role of the willing/unwilling accomplice then the actual perpetrator of the crime.  

A wish: He could have had a happier ending without having to die for Friede. I know, its Dark Souls. Such a thing is expected to happen in the Soulsborne series but its a wish, right? 

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: That anything beyond the infatuation he had for Friede took place. Just.. No. He loved her but never could ever have her in that sense and never did. Just no, she is horrible to him. 

5 words to best describe them: Sad, lonely, birdman, withdrawn, and tragic

My nickname for them: Papa bird

And lastly for skekSo!

Why I like them: I think its as obvious as the case for Baron Dark. I like evil, smug bastards that shine through their wickedness and don't usually hold back. In the case of skekSo, I actually didn't care for him at first but then after my second viewing of the show, I started to like him more and enjoy his villainy! He's selfish, arrogant, vain, and conniving and I love it! Added that his design is really appealing to the eye and how he carries himself out, I gotta say he's one of the few villain characters from a show that makes the turn around for me to like them instead of hate them more. Also, his voice. Can NOT go wrong with that voice cause DAMN, its good and shows just how powerful a villain can be with a voice like his. And those eyes. Oh man, those eyes!

Why I don’t: Despite his villainy being the main point that caught my attention, its also a part of his downfall too. His constant greed and arrogance pushed him too far into doing what he did and ultimately cost him everything in the end; including loyal allies that end up dying for him in the long run. I hate how easily and quickly he changes his mind when actual logic is put into perspective of his plans and how quick he is to dismiss someone else when they don't please him anymore or things don't go his way for the smallest things. And yes, that is part of his character, I know that. That is what makes him as scummy as he is and why I love how trashy he is. But I also can't ignore just how easily he pushed skekVar away and believed skekSil despite knowing just what a lying bastard he is. IDK, it just feels too obvious but at the same time, it is what it is and I am not upset about it in the least x)

Favorite episode (scene if movie): Honestly, I enjoyed all the scenes with him in the show but mostly in particular with his interactions with skekVar, especially towards the end of the series. It showed a peak part of his vulnerability in his character that honestly I doubt he ever shows to anyone else. He spends most of his time pushing others around and making them fear him but with skekVar there is a sort of mutual respect going that really speaks out in a different way. Maybe I am just reading too much into it, but I always did enjoy how they interacted with one another!

Favorite season/movie: Well, skekSo didn't get much screen time in the movie other then him dying and turning to dust so.... Definitely enjoyed him more in the show then the film xD

Favorite line: "NOOOOO!" (Yes, this scene is still very infamous to me for personal reasons but the way he carried out his "no's" cracked me up each time xD)

Favorite outfit: Honestly, the main outfit he wore throughout the show. It's just so regal and goth, I love it! And as a goth and fashion enthusiast myself, I am all up for the style he has! The battle armor he wore near the end made it a tad more laughable to be honest.

OTP: I started shipping him with skekVar but ended up with an OT3 of skekVar and skekZok. So now all three of them live in a happy relationship with each other in my noodle~

Brotp: I see him being on neutral terms with skekMal! 

Head Canon: I feel that even in the show it wasn’t seen or given, but he did feel a lot of remorse and regret after the loss of skekVar. He seemed very close with him and spoke with skekVar with more trust then he did the others. Perhaps in secret he did mourn the General’s loss. 

Unpopular opinion: Does this count as an unpopular opinion? I know most people see him with just a few strands of hair but I tend to see him with a head full of long flowing white locks he keeps hidden beneath his clothes. It adds to the extra layer of vanity for a proud Emperor such as he! He looses it over time the darkening consumes him and withers down his health. 

A wish: To see what he was like as an urSkek prior to being split up into a Skeksis and urRu. Yeah, I know people don't care or like the urSkeks all that much but honestly, I would LOVE to see more urSkek lore and see what it was that made SoSu so special among his peers. It was said, after all, he had a voice that could move the stars but was conflicted and consumed with darkness. Honestly, I want to know why and who he was prior to all of this mess! SkekSo even says in the show he still has nightmares of the life before so I wonder, what they were and how it was! So much potential here, man!

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: I don’t think I have any of these to be honest? At least with skekSo. Not that I can think of on top of my head now. 

5 words to best describe them: Proud, absolute piece of shit, pretty, conniving, and menacing. 

My nickname for them: Stupid idiot

[seijorhi]

Complicit

A/N: As promised my (slightly late) Yandere Dabi/female reader fic 🔥

TW kidnapping, implied abuse, non-con

You’d come to like the silence in the empty house. It meant safety, peace, if only for as long as its occupants were away.

It wasn’t often. Most of the time they went out in pairs and smaller groups, all of them going at once meant that awful things were about to happen. It usually also meant that when they got back, at least one of them would drop in for a one on one visit. You tried not to think about that part too much.

In the early days, you’d spent those precious hours alone desperately trying to free yourself. The door to your room didn’t lock, there were bars on your window, yes, but they were old and badly rusted, they might be easy enough to break if you applied enough force. Hell, the front door was just wood, and not particularly strong wood at that.

But there was a reason that they hadn’t bothered to put padlocks on the door, why they didn’t worry about you alone in the big empty house - the solid iron manacle wrapped around your ankle and the heavy chain that bolted it to the floor. They hadn’t been cruel with it, or at least not as cruel as they could have been. The chain was long enough for you to access the dingy bathroom attached to the side of your room, even long enough to reach a little way down the hallway.

You’d broken your nails trying to pry yourself free, scraped up your hands working on loosening the screws that anchored the chain down. They never so much as budged. While everything else in the house was worn down and decrepit, the chain remained strong. You could still remember the fear that flooded your veins the night that Shigaraki had come back to find you frantically trying to jimmy the lock open. Your eyes had gone wide, your breath coming in short gasps as he stared at you, those bloodshot eyes flickering from your face to the shackle around your ankle, and for one awful moment, you wondered whether he’d kill you for it. Instead, he’d laughed, more of a snort really, rolled his eyes and just walked away. It’s why they didn’t bother locking you in anymore, they understood as well as you did, you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon, not unless they wanted you to.

And sometimes they dragged you out, made you sit with them in that shitty, run down living room, stuck between Toga and Jin as they drank and gambled and laughed while watching that ancient, static-y TV. The whole time, you’d sit ramrod straight, hands clenched into fists on your lap as Himiko cooed at you, fingers twirling around your hair as she whispered awful things in your ear. But as unnerving as the sadistic little psychopath was, you’d much rather be stuck with her, any of them really, instead of Dabi.

He was the one who’d found you.

You weren’t a hero, you’d never wanted the spotlight, you just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It was cold that night, and all you remembered was the smell of burning flesh and a whimpering cry echoing out as you walked the dimly lit streets on your way home. It was a bad neighbourhood, bad things happened. Most people would have kept walking, it was safer that way. Maybe it was selfish, but it was really just self-preservation - Good Samaritans didn’t seem to last very long in places like this. Keep your head down, ignore what you weren’t supposed to see and live another day unbothered by the seedy underbelly of the city. Too many innocent people had been hurt because they’d tried to help. Nobody would have blamed you if you just kept going.

But the man sobbed again, his voice cracking as he begged for help, and you felt that twinge in your heart. If he was hurt… you could help.

Help him, and leave quickly. If you were lucky, he wouldn’t even remember your face.

Against your better instincts you crossed the road and wandered down the darkened alley. You found him lying behind a dumpster, hunched over and moaning in pain. The bile had crept up your throat at the sight of him - half of his face was badly burned, the skin, what was left of it, was a weeping mess of black, red and pink. The burns - the twisted, melted flesh- continued down his neck and spread across his right side. It looked like someone had thrown a wall of fire at him, and you had a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach as he moaned again, his one good eye rolling to look at you. The smell alone was enough to make your stomach turn.

“P-please,” he gasped. “Please help me.”

It was one thing to ignore the cries for help entirely, another to walk away after seeing the state he was in. With burns like that, he’d be lucky to survive a few agonising hours, if that. But one look, and you could guess who’d put him in that state in the first place. Blue flames always burned hotter, and you knew of only one villain with a Quirk like that on this side of the city. It was possible that he was just an innocent man who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, but on this side of town it was just as likely that he was no saint himself.

And yet you hadn’t even paused as you dropped to your knees beside him, ignoring the grime of the asphalt as you leant over and placed one hand on his chest, the other on his cheek. Nobody deserved to suffer like that. He shivered under your touch, his gaze flickering wildly from you to the dark alleyway, as if he half expected whoever had done this to come back.

Whoever it was was likely long gone, assuming the poor man would die before anyone else actually showed up.

“It’s okay, just… try and breathe, alright?” you told him, trying your best to muster a reassuring smile. Truthfully, he was probably in that much pain that it wouldn’t have mattered what you’d said or done, he was hardly in a state to fight back. “I promise it won’t hurt for much longer.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as you reached inside yourself, tapping into that power and letting it flow through your fingers. Your hands began to glow, a soft shimmer like moonlight emanating as his flesh began to mold itself back together. You were so focused on the energy that poured from your hands into his body that you didn’t feel the weight of a cerulean eyed stare burning into your back from the fire escape above.

Most of the wounds you worked on were small, hardly life threatening. Minor cuts and burns, a few broken bones and torn muscles. Wounds like his took a hell of a lot more focus and energy. Your brows drew together, a bead of sweat slipping from your temple as you forced more energy through the tenuous bond - there was still so much damage to fix, but slowly his skin began to heal.

With a cheshire cat-like grin, your voyeur dropped silently to the ground behind you. For a moment he simply watched, watched as your Quirk healed the piece of shit he hadn’t quite finished toying with. At first he’d been pissed at the interruption, but this? Oh this was a treat he wasn’t expecting.

Loudly, he cleared his throat. “Now what have we here, hm?” he purred, chuckling as you snapped around to face him, pretty eyes going wide with such delicious fear. You didn’t even notice that your hands had slipped, or that the man on the ground had started to sob anew at the sight of the villain before you.

With his wild dark hair, bright blue eyes and swaths of rough, scarred flesh stapled across his arms, chest and face, he was unmistakable.

Dabi.

You could only swallow and gape as he sauntered over, ignoring his victim entirely as he studied you. “Isn’t it a bit late for a cute little thing like you to running around, sticking your nose where it don’t belong, babydoll?”

Absolute dread crawled up your spine, freezing you in place as Dabi knelt down on the ground beside the two of you. Every instinct you had was screaming at you to run as fast as you could, because you sure as hell weren’t gonna be able to fight him off if he attacked, and heroes had stopped patrolling here months ago. But even if you could move, it was pointless. You’d seen footage of Dabi’s fights before, hell, the man you’d been trying to save was a perfect, horrifying demonstration of his abilities. You could try and run, you might even make it back onto the main street, but his fire was quicker than your legs, and his Quirk far more lethal than yours.

So you just swallowed again, nervously licking your lips as Dabi leaned closer. “P-please let me go. I-I won’t-” but your words stopped in their tracks as the cremation user’s hand reached out and caught yours, the other conjuring up a ball of blue flames that flickered in the cool night breeze. You could feel the heat it gave off, licking at the bare skin of your face and fought the urge to cringe away from it.

His grin widened, his thumb brushing back and forth against the back of your palm. “You won’t what? Tell anybody?” he mocked, his eyes finally flickering down to glance at the half-healed man. A flicker of irritation passed through his eyes as he sighed. “Ah, it’s my own fault, I suppose. Never leave a job half finished.” He glanced back up at you, running his slowly up and down your shivering body and winked, “Still, not a total loss, right babe?”

“Wha-” you never finished your sentence, Dabi striking like a viper to knock you out. You never asked what happened to the man in the alley, but you could imagine well enough. Hopefully, he’d ended it quickly, but somehow you doubted it.

The next thing you remembered, you were waking up in that rundown old house, lying on a filthy mattress, a chain wrapped around your ankle. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Dabi who walked in first, but Shigaraki. You could still vividly remember the way he’d simply strolled into your room, picked up the lamp sitting on the lone night stand between four fingers, his pinky hovering in the air.

Staring right at you, his pinky made contact and you watched with a racing heart as it turned to ash before your very eyes. In a calm, detached voice he explained exactly what was going to happen: You were going to be good and you were going to be quiet. If one of them got injured, you were going to heal them, no questions asked, no fuss. In return, he wouldn’t turn your body parts to dust one by one.

Such a generous offer!

In a trembling voice you’d told him that your Quirk wasn’t limitless. You could only heal so much damage before you passed out, if they were too close to death or if they’d lost too much blood, you weren’t going to be able to bring them back from that, and you couldn’t heal sickness.

And then you’d looked him dead in the eyes and told him in a trembling voice that if any one of them so much laid a finger on you, you’d wait until the next time one of them got badly hurt, and instead of healing them you’d finish the damned job yourself.

It was a bluff, of course it was a fucking bluff, but it was all you had. Your only hope of keeping yourself unharmed.  

Tomura had just smirked, his thin, chapped lips baring across his teeth, and scoffed. “I can see why he likes you.”

Then he was gone, leaving to acquaint yourself with your new home.

For the most part, it wasn’t… awful. They mostly left you to your own devices, they made sure you were fed - you’d been surprised when the food they gave you turned out to be surprisingly edible. Oh, you never forgot that you were their prisoner, but compared to some of the other poor people they brought home…

Sometimes, they’d drag you down into the basement and make you heal their latest hostage, again and again and again and again, just so they could inflict more pain. They’d do it for hours, taking turns to hurt, to the point that whatever poor hero was trapped down there would start screaming whenever they saw you, begging through tears and snot for you to just let them die. And as awful as it was, and as terrible as it made you feel, there was some part of you that was just glad it wasn’t you tied down to the gurney.

There was also some part of you that wondered if at the end of the day, that made you complicit. Even so, when you were lying wide awake in your bed at night, that wasn’t what kept you up. No, it was the way that Dabi had stared at you, smiling like a cat that ate the canary as you did as your captors bid.

So yeah, you liked the nights when they were all off doing horrible, awful things, because it meant that you got peace.

But there was always a price when they came back.

In the eerie silence of the empty house, it was hard to miss the creak of the front door as it swung open just before. The rabble of their voices and laughter floated down the hallway - whatever they were doing, it must have gone well. Hopefully that meant that they’d have no need of your or your Quirk. Your eyes fluttered shut, your arms folded across your chest as you held your breath.

Keep walking, please keep walking.

The soft knocking at your door shattered those hopes. You opened your eyes open just in time to see Dabi slide into your room and shut the door behind him, that lazy smirk splayed across his face, but that wasn’t what caught your attention. No, it was the wide gash cut along his chest and the gruesome wet crimson stain on his white shirt.

“Aw, you stayed up for me, babydoll?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “You got hurt,” you replied blandly.

Dabi just chuckled, making his way over towards the bed. You scampered up to the headboard, burrowing into your pillow as he settled himself down far too close for comfort. He shrugged, inching closer. “You know how it goes. Some bastard got a lucky shot in,” he said with a chuckle. “Don’t worry though, I took care of him.”

Bullshit. You didn’t believe it for a second. You weren’t sure how long they’d been keeping you locked up in here for - a month at least. In that entire time, Dabi had been the only one to come on an almost weekly schedule. It seemed like he wasn’t capable of going out to conduct League business without finding himself hurt in some way or other.

You’d seen him fight - with his Quirk he didn’t need to let others get close enough to even get a shot in, and yet every time, seemingly without fail, Dabi managed it. Maybe you wouldn’t have doubted the legitimacy of his injuries if it wasn’t for that stupid smug expression he wore whenever he sauntered into your room, like he was enjoying it just a little too much.

“C’mere. You can’t do it properly from all the way over there,” he crooned, wrapping one hand around your wrist and tugging. Knowing that it wasn’t worth the fight, you complied, crawling towards him as he shrugged off his jacket and shed his bloody tee, tossing it across the room.

You averted your eyes, your cheeks blushing a pretty pink that had Dabi chuckling again. “I can heal you just fine with your shirt on,” you muttered under your breath.

“Oh, I know.”

God, sometimes you just wanted to hit him in his stupid face.

He winked as if he knew exactly what you were thinking and beckoned with a single finger. “I don’t have all night, sweetheart.”

More lies, but you wanted this over quickly. Ignoring the heat of his burning gaze you crept closer still, almost sitting in his lap, rubbed your palms together just once before placing them on his chest, just below the still bleeding gash.

You could feel the pump of his heart, the steady rise of fall of his chest with every breath as your Quirk started to activate. Your hands began to glow and Dabi let out an almost pornographic moan. One of his hands reached out to clutch as yours, pressing it harder against his skin.

Your flush spread to the tips of your ears, but you ignored him (and the growing bulge in his jeans), squeezing your eyes shut and focusing instead on trying to force your Quirk to work faster.

Anything to get him out of the room. He always did it, acted like it was something gross and sexual whenever you had to heal him. You never felt good after helping any of them, but Dabi was the only one who ever made you feel dirty afterwards.

Maybe that was why you missed the heady lust that glinted in his eyes as his skin knitted itself back together.

“You really need to stop getting yourself-”

Dabi struck.

Quick as a whip he had you on your back, straddling your stomach with his thighs resting either side of you. Your hands, which had been on his chest, were both swept up in one of his and pinned to the headboard.

“Dabi, what the fuck?!” you hissed. “Let me go, you asshole!”

There was nothing but wicked intentions in his smile as he licked his lips and let his eyes roam. “Don’t be like that.” He ground his crotch against your stomach, leaning down so that his face was hovering just above yours. “Are you gonna try and fight me off, babe? Do you think it’ll do you any good?”

Shivering in repulsion, you considered his words. Would it? If you screamed loud enough, would any of the League come? And if they did, would they stop their friend or help him hold you down? Toga liked you, if her psychotic, twisted version of friendship could be considered as such, and Tomura didn’t seem to hate your presence. Twice sometimes slipped in to have a smoke and talk, but did that count for anything? You were still their captive and Dabi-

“I’m still gonna fuck you anyway,” he said with a lazy shrug.

Dabi was a fucking asshole.

“Get the hell off me,” you hissed instead, thrashing beneath him.

Dabi just laughed, “Nah. I’ve waited plenty. Y’know, I think I made a mistake bringing you here.” His lips brushed against your neck, kissing it lightly and nipping at the tender skin as he pulled away. “You remember the night we met? You were so terrified, shaking on the ground as you begged me to let you go. D’you remember, babe? You were so adorable! So damn cute,” he purred. “I wanted to fuck you right there in the alley for the whole fucking city to see, but I had other shit to deal with, so I took you with me. Figured I could keep you here if I could make ‘em think you were useful enough.”

The index finger on his free hand lit up like a match and you could only watch in horror as he slowly dragged it down it down the oversized tee they’d tossed at you. You felt the heat brush against your skin, but it didn’t burn - only the fabric did. “A healing Quirk like yours is rare, and it didn’t exactly hurt things that you such a sweet, submissive little thing. You never even tried to fight back, just like you’re not gonna fight me now, right, cutie?”

Shame flooded your core as he let go of your hands to pry the ruined scraps of fabric apart, his cyan eyes lazily trailing across your exposed chest. A bra, apparently, had not been considered necessary when they’d decided on your wardrobe. “Aw, dollface,” he tutted mockingly. ‘You’ve been holding out on me. Who knew you had such a cute, delicious pair of tits, hm?”

He leaned over again, shuffling down your body so that he could comfortably wrap his lips around one rosy, pink nipple. You stiffened at the contact, crying out in shock as his tongue swirled around the bud, alternating between licking and sucking on it. Even with his mouth occupied, Dabi grinned as you trembled beneath him, biting your lip to stifle any sounds. When he finally relented and let go, it was with a sick plopping sound that made your stomach flip and a wave of revulsion crash over you. But Dabi was far from finished, kissing, sucking  and biting a trail across to you other breast, intent on giving it the exact same treatment.

You hated yourself for the warmth you felt pooling inside you, the slick that gathered between your legs the longer Dabi lavished your tits with attention. With one hand braced on the mattress beside you, his other reached up to cup its twin, kneading the soft mound in his greedy palm, tweaking your nipple just to hear you squeak.

“Please, Dabi,” you gasped,  “Please stop.” You didn’t expect him to listen, but you begged him anyway.

But surprisingly he did, pausing in his attention for just a moment to let out an irritated huff. With one final bite, he righted himself, wiping off the excess saliva on his lips as he met your terrified gaze, his eyes hardening as they narrowed into a frown.

“It’s partially my fault, I’ll admit that, I didn’t think these idiots would get so attached.” Your shock must have shown on your face, because Dabi scoffed, “Oh don’t play dumb, doll. I’ve seen the way ol’ crusty looks at you when you’re not paying attention. He wants to fuck you,” he cut himself off, seizing your lips  in a needy kiss. His tongue swept past your bottom lip, pushing into your mouth to taste you. He groaned as his lips moved forcefully against yours and you couldn’t help but shudder at the odd feeling of his scarred skin against yours. There was nothing sweet or tender about the way he kissed you. It was primal, violent, ravenous. When he finally pulled away, biting down on your bottom lip and tugging hard enough to draw a bead of blood, his eyes were blown wide - wild and terrifying. “And he’ll do it soon, too. He might be an awkward fuckin’ virgin, but there’s only so much wanting a guy can take before he just snaps.”

Each word out of his mouth sounded more ridiculous than the last, but still they made you feel sick to your stomach. Outside of forcing you to heal him once or twice, Tomura had never laid a finger on you, he barely spared you a second glance! Hell, he seemed to just barely tolerate your presence when the others dragged you out to play.

But what if he was right? What if he was just biding his time, waiting until your guard was down to attack?

Dabi chuckled, petting your cheek in a mockery of tenderness. “No need to look so worried. I’m not gonna let that creep touch you, or any of ‘em, for that matter. Y’see, I grew up in a pretty big family, had a few younger brothers and a sister who always wanted to play with my toys, but I never did learn to share all that well. You, babydoll,” he said, reaching down to toy with the drawstring of your pyjama shorts, a truly wicked grin adorning his face. “You’re mine.”

You licked your lips, your heart rate picking up as his other hand grasped at his belt buckle, the echoing clink of the metal sending shivers down your spine. “I think it’s time we left the League behind, don’t you, Babydoll? Make our own way in the world, just you ‘n me?”

You could only watch in frozen horror as he moved onto the zipper next, sliding it down with exaggerated slowness, revealing his boxer shorts and the straining erection of his cock beneath. Oh god. Oh god, please no.

“Dabi-”

He shook his head, the fingers that were tracing patterns across your stomach heating up enough to have you squirming beneath him as he pulled himself out, not even bothering to shed his jeans entirely. Your eyes widened at the sight of it, your mouth going dry. It was bigger than you’d expected, thicker too, with a prominent vein running along the underside and a noticeable curve. Pre-cum beaded at the head as he stroked himself leisurely, preparing himself for what was about to happen.

Like a terrified rabbit you started to shake, trembling beneath him. You wanted to yell, to fight and kick and scream, but it wouldn’t do you any good. There was no way he was going to fit that thing inside of you, no way it wasn’t going to be painful! Tears of sheer terror welled in your eyes as you silently begged for somebody to stop this. As if he could read your very thoughts, Dabi just winked.

“But first,” he said with a lewd moan, sneaking his hand underneath the waistband of your shorts as he continued his languid strokes along his cock. “First, sweetheart, I’m gonna fuck you ‘til you’re begging me to let you come.”

Whatever protests you had were swallowed up in a heated kiss as he violently tugged your shorts down. “You’ll learn to love it,” he whispered between ragged breaths.

[rjhpandapaws]

How a Family is Built

Chapter 2: These Things Take (too much) Time

Connor had a hard time being idle. Like with most of these things, he wasn’t sure how much of it was his programming and how much of it was him. By the end of his first week with Hank the entire house, save for Hank’s room, had been deep cleaned. He had even given Sumo a bath. He and Hank had a bit of a fight after that. Hank had felt like he was taking advantage of Connor, and Connor was having difficulty explaining that being busy helped him relax. They each made themselves heard after a fair amount of yelling. Connor couldn’t shake his guilt even after the many apologies and started looking for other places to stay. He had asked Markus for help. Which, looking back, was probably how Hank had found out. Connor didn’t want to keep making Hank uncomfortable, but he also wasn’t comfortable with the idea of staying in a place where he would be surrounded by other androids. Which had been the whole reason he had asked for help. He didn’t know that his help would go to Hank. Not until he got a call from him on is lunch break. “Good afternoon Hank.” He said once the call connected, “Is something wrong? You don’t normally call during your work hours.”

“Did I do something wrong Connor?” Hank asked, “If it’s about the cleaning thing, I’m sorry. I’m still.... adjusting to living with another person again.” “I don’t understand.” He replied. Then it clicked, “Ah, well no, not really. It’s just - I’ve been living with you for a while now, so I figured you might want your space back.” Hank sighed and Connor could almost clearly imagine his exasperated expression. “I’ve got one question for you Con.” He said after a moment, “How are you going to pay for a place of your own?” Connor hesitated. He had been so concentrated on getting out of Hank’s space that he hadn’t thought that far ahead for once. “I don’t know.” He replied weakly, “I’m just - it’s - I don’t want to be a burden.” “Oh Connor.” Hank responded with a gentleness to his voice that Connor wasn’t used to, “You aren’t a burden kid. You know me. I don’t typically don’t do things that I’m against. You’re staying with me because I like having you around.” He paused and then changed gears, “Hey, if you’re serious about this whole moving out thing, I’ll help you look for jobs on the weekends. Once that’s handled we can find you a place of your own.” Connor nodded despite the fact that Hank couldn’t see him, “Alright.”

“Try not to worry so much, alright?” Hank continued, “I’m gonna finish my lunch and then get back to work.” “Have a good day Hank.” He replied. “You too Connor.” Then he hung up. Connor sat back against the couch with a sigh. It was a habit that he had picked up from Hank. He was half tempted to call Markus and ask him what he had wanted out of telling Hank about this. He knew why though. As Hank liked to say, it had come from a good place. Markus had been worried, and now Hank was too. These things took time. He understood that, but he was getting tired of it. He had been designed to handle any situation. Adaptable and all that, but instead he was stuck. He could handle everything but being his own person it seemed. At this rate he would always need to lean on someone else. Become a burden, no matter how many times he was told that he wasn’t. He needed to go clear his head. These sorts of thoughts weren’t doing him any good, and staying at the house wasn’t going to help him shake them. He made his way to the front door and Sumo joined him. Having company wouldn’t hurt so he took a moment to get Sumo into his harness. He wouldn’t be able to walk as far as he would have liked with Sumo, but at least he wouldn’t be alone with his thoughts.

Even with Sumo he wound up walking far enough that he had to carry Sumo back to the house. His plan had been to walk until the stress notification cleared from his system, but it took longer than he had planned. Poor Sumo wasn’t going to let Connor walk him again. When they got back to the house and as soon as Connor got him out of his harness Sumo flopped onto the floor and just stared at him. “Sorry bud.” Connor said gently, “I had more on my mind than I thought. I’m sorry it turned into such a long walk.” Sumo only huffed at him in response. Connor have a slight smile as he walked into the kitchen. He got out his usual mug. It was something that Hank ad gotten him shortly after he had moved in. It was shaped like a Saint Bernard head and painted to match. He set it on the counter and opened the fridge to grab a pouch of thirium. He still couldn’t feel the cold in the same sense as Hank, but the rain as well as his rolling thoughts had made it a warm thirium kind of day. When the microwave beeped he took the pouch out and pulled the cap to pour it into his mug. That was how Hank found him when he got home shortly after. Leaned back on the couch with a warm mug of thirium cradled in his hands.

“Still thinking about it then?” He said in way of a greeting. “In a way.” Connor replied, “I’m just frustrated. I was made to be more than this, and I still fail at everything I’ve tried.” Hank stepped out of his shoes and came to sit beside him. “They never intended for you to be an independent being. You were never meant to handle these things.” He gave Connor’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “I know you hold yourself to a high standard, but that doesn’t mean you have to do this alone.” “You and Markus both have better things to do.” Connor replied and looked down at his cooling thirium, “I am only adding more to that and it’s unfair to the both of you.” “Have either of us said that Connor?” Hank pressed. “Well, no, but-” He started, and Hank cut him off before he could finish. “Then let us help you Connor.” His tone was gentle, but Connor understood that there was no room to argue, “You won’t be admitting defeat if you do.” “But these things take time.” Connor finished for him. He had to have heard it a thousand times by now, “I know; I’m tired of waiting.” “It will be worth it, I promise.” Hank encouraged, “For now, let’s try and unwind.”

It felt like defeat though, but Hank had a point. So Connor resolved to let it go if just for tonight. Hank was always good at keeping his mind in a better place. Connor drank from his now room temperature thirium and listened to the goings on at the station that he had missed since he left. His troubled thoughts could make themselves known another day.

[rudysrings]

Easy - JJ x reader

A songfic based on Camila Cabello’s Easy

Summary: You’re a complicated girl, but JJ know this. He loves you anyways. It takes you a while to realize that he doesn’t love you in spite of your flaws; he loves you because of them.

You tell me that I'm complicated And that might be an understatement Anything else?

The two of you argued very rarely. You understood each other too much to actually get into an argument. The problem was, however, was that when you did fight, it was a huge ordeal, and you had trouble backing down, instead just adding fuel to the fire.

At one point in your argument that night on the beach, JJ closed the distance between you, grasping your shoulders and shaking you in frustration. “Fucking hell, you’re just so complicated!”

You stopped yelling. He was right, of course. He rarely yelled back, but when he did, he was right. Honestly, crazy might have been more accurate. You knew you had issues. Your family life was tough, your past relationships had molded you into a ball of caution, ready to lash out at any sign of disloyalty. At the same time, you knew it was no excuse for you to act out.

You admired JJ. He had waded through so much shit and come out of the end of it relatively okay, he came out of it perfect when compared to you.

Every day, he inspired you to be better than you were yesterday, because even if you were stupid sometimes, the one thing that you knew with absolute certainty was that JJ deserved the best. You knew you weren’t the best, but you would fight tooth and nail to be better.

Tell me that I'm indecisive Fickle, but I try to hide it Anything else?

You were constantly contradicting yourself. You asked him to leave and then yelled at him when he didn’t stay.

JJ called you out on it, saying that you didn’t know what you wanted. “You keep pushing me away and then you keep coming back only to push me away again. C’mon, darling, you’re giving me whiplash.”

Your shoulders slumped and you looked down, squeezing your toes together and gathering sand. “Jesus, JJ. You shouldn’t have to deal with this—with me…” You looked up at him. “Maybe you would be better off with a girl who’s got her shit together.”

JJ’s arm flinched, angry, as if the very thought of being with anyone other than you made him uncomfortable.

You tell me that I overthink 'Til I ruin a good thing Anything else?

He shook his head, chuckling sadly. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts and looked out at the waves crashing furiously on the shore. “Man, you think too much. You keep trying to find something wrong with us. He cocked his head as looked at you. “When are you going to accept the fact that we’re a good thing?”

You tell me that you'd rather fight Than spend a single peaceful night With somebody else

You stepped back and scoffed. God, he just kept criticizing your character today. “Wow. You just never stop. You got anything else to say about me?”

JJ walked over to you, nodding. “Yeah, I reckon I do.”

You quirked an eyebrow, shocked at his nerve.

Then he smiled, tilting your chin up to look at him. “As much as you keep trying to ruin us, I know we’re beautiful. You’re my girl and I’d rather fight with you every night of my life than spend it peacefully with anybody else.”

And then he kissed you, melting away your anger just like that.

You really, really know me The future and the old me All of the mazes and the madness in my mind

You really, really love me You know me and you love me And it's the kind of thing I always hoped I'd find (yeah)

You tried not to smile, but you did, and he smiled back against your lips. He really did know you inside and out, knew what made you tick, what made you cry and exactly how to make you smile.

You said to him, barely at a whisper, as if you didn’t want him to know. “I guess I’m just trying to prepare for when you leave me.”

JJ frowned. “Don’t say when. It’s not going to happen.”

You shuddered. “I’m just afraid.”

You pulled you closer, so that you were standing on his toes and brushed you nose with his. “I know, darling, I know,” He whispered against your mouth. “I love you.”

You grinned. “I never thought I’d get this, J. I always hope but, I really never dreamed that I could be so in love with someone.”

You weren’t prepared for the blinding smile he gifted you, almost falling back at the sight. “It’s terrifying isn’t it?” He asked.

You nodded, humming in agreement.

He took your hand, leading you off the beach. “Let’s go,” he said, nodding towards the dirt bike you had gotten here on.

Always thought I was hard to love 'Til you made it seem so easy, seem so easy

Though you had driven the two of you to the kick-back at the beach that night, you were too physically and mentally drained to drive now so JJ took the job, you wrapping your arms tightly around his middle as he drove. With your forehead on his back, your thoughts wandered. You were difficult to love, your past lovers had made sure you knew that. It became a truth in your head, until JJ. He made it seem like loving you was natural, it came easy, rolled off him in delicate waves. He never seemed irritated at having to deal with your overthinking mind and easily triggered imagination. He had the patience of a saint when it came to you and it never failed to amaze you. When you asked him about it, he would shrug and say he didn’t have much of a reason why he was that way with you. “But if I had to guess, it’s because it’s easy to love you.”

Touch me 'til I find myself, in a feeling Tell me with your hands that you're never leaving

That night, JJ took you in his lap, your hair a curtain around the two of you, making your private moment in the spare bedroom of the Chateau even more intimate. You spent of a lot of time just feeling you, and you him.

His warm, familiar hands brushing across your shoulders, your back, your hips, your thighs. Gripping you tightly, saying without words that he was always going to hold onto you. He was physically grounding himself to you, kissing your neck as he whispered. “There’s no when. I’m always going to stay. You’re my girl.”

You blinked away the tears, kissing his jaw as he mumbled. “Never gonna leave…I can’t.”

I never liked my crooked teeth You tell me they're your favorite thing Anything else?

The next morning, JJ woke you up with a series of kisses all over your face, ending at your lips. You pulled away and smiled wide, before quickly covering your mouth with your hand.

JJ wrinkled his nose. He swatted your hand away, pecking your cheek. “Don’t do that. Your crooked teeth are my favorite thing.”

His hands wandered, sliding over your hips and around your thighs, which he hooked around himself, pressing himself closer to you.

You saw what he trying to initiate and you shook your head. “No, no, no, J. You know morning sex isn’t my thing.”

JJ pouted adorably. “Well, why not?”

You laughed, “Well, it’s light out. You can see everything. All the stretch marks around my thighs and the scars on my knees.”

JJ shook his head, smiling sadly. He leaned over you, crawling down your body and finding said stretch marks. He looked up at you coyly before looking back at what was in front of him, slowly placing open mouthed kisses all over your bare thighs.

All I know is you, heal me when I'm broken Heal me when I'm broken, oh All I know is you, saved me and you know it Saved me and you know it

He moved to your knees, frowning at the marred skin. He kissed those, too, even more fervently, as if he could heal them with sheer passion.

You were surprised to find yourself crying, tears filling your eyes at the tender gesture. JJ noticed immediately, moving back up to you as soon as he noticed. “Hey, hey, hey…what’s wrong?”

You shook your head against his shoulder. “You saved me, JJ. I don’t know where I’d be without you. I don’t know how you do it, I make it so damn hard for you—”

JJ tilted your mouth up to meet his, stopping right before your lips met. He smirked. “It’s not hard at all. It’s simple really. It’s easy to love you.”

You giggled. “You spoil me, Maybank.”

He simply nodded, flipping so that you were on top of him. He tucked your hair behind your ear as he looked at you with absolute adoration. “I know.”

Always thought I was hard to love 'Til you made it seem so easy, seem so easy

[iaal]

how strict is the uniform policy for maid reader?? she obv isn’t gonna wear the traditional “maid uniform” that everyone thinks of, but is she allowed to just wear her regular clothes?? are they like the uniforms in heavens arena?? so many questions arise

Hisoka x Maid!Reader Part.2

“Do you really need to wear...” Hisoka scrunched his faced and point at your clothes , “...that.”

You looked down on your uniform, it was just a black ensemble, pants and a blouse with the company logo embroidered on the chest. Your clothes were easy to clean and move around with, good for your job. Sure it was nothing fancy but nothing to warrant this kind of repulsed face – you almost pout before realizing in front of whom you were standing. Showing coquetry would just bring unrelenting teasing.

“I do, it’s the mandatory uniform, Sir.” It was kind of a lie. Of course newbie had to wear it but when you got enough of your own regular clients it was at the maid’s discretion if they wanted to wear something else. As long as the clients didn’t complain the company was lenient on how you dressed and it wasn’t like they were watching you anyway.

“Oh really? It’s so strange,” he questioned, finger tapping on his lips. “I recall one of your predecessor from the same company saying they weren’t that strict with it.”

You didn’t even flinch. Since the time he tried to make you wear what he considered a “proper” maid uniform you’ve thought of every excuses you could imagine to refuse when he’d inevitably try again, even imagining how he would counter it. You were ready for him.

“Of course, it’s not like they can force us to wear anything once we’re out on our own,” you started to explain, dusting the shelves. “I find it unprofessional to wear anything but the one they provide us though. Rules are not meant to be broken just because no one is actively enforcing it.”

“My, my! How serious of you!” Hisoka surprised you by patting your back as he praised you. “When you’ll get tired of wearing this hideous garb I’d be more than happy to provide with something more alluring.”

More surprising was how easily he gave up, you almost felt disappointed to not be able to use all the arguments you prepared. You should have been relieved but it was so out of character that you could only be more suspicious of his words.

His intention became clear once you got home and undress. On the back of your blouse, in big bold letters “Hisoka’s Pet ♥” was written. No matter how much you washed and scrubbed to erased it it wouldn’t come off. You didn’t even care to know how to managed to do it you just swallowed your pride and with a sigh threw your cloth in the bin. This time was his win.

You opened your dresser and prepared your next work clothes. This one was white, with a flower pattern that wouldn’t be out of place as your grandma wallpaper and two size too big for good measure. He’s going to regret messing with your uniform.

“And it’s not even my final form” you smirked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You have what now?” you blurted dropping the broom.

Hisoka furrowed his brow, “I said I have a friend who’s going to spend the night. Did you perchance thought I didn’t have any friends?” he said in a hurt voice.

‘Yes’ you thought. “Of course not, Sir,” you answered.

Hisoka’s “friends”, so far, always shared his room and you seldom only met them on their way out. So for him to ask you to prepare the guest room and even to go all out for diner it meant friend-friend. You picked up the broom and your countenance and went back to work.

Your curiosity has been piqued though and you spent the rest of the day imagining what kind of person Hisoka call a friend and more importantly, what kind of person would hang out with him. For free. You barely managed to stand him because that was your job, CHOOSING to be with him was a mystery.

Almost everything was ready when the doorbell rang. You exited the kitchen to answer the door a pang of excitement and apprehension to the person you’re going to met. Either someone with the patience of a saint or an even bigger weirdo than your employer.

You weren’t prepared for you eyes to met a pair of cold dead black eyes. The excitation was short lived.

“Welcome, Sir. Please come in.” You moved out of the way to let the guest enter and motion to take his jacket before guiding him to the living room. All the time you felt his gaze boring a hole at your back.

“Oh Illumi! You’re finally here! Should I give you a tour?” Hisoka was smiling, obviously thrilled to have his friend home.

“Why? I don’t think you have anything of interest here.” The guest answered without looking at his host, sitting on the couch.

You took that at your cue to start serving them drinks while they were chitchatting, well it was mostly Hisoka who was running his mouth non stop. He looked positively beaming in stark contrast of Illumi. What and odd pair.

When you started serving dinner Illumi’s eyes resumed following your every move to the point of making you nervous. After serving Hisoka you move away to returned to the kitchen but a hand gripped your arm and you topple on his lap.

“Mr Mo-” you started to complain but cut yourself by the thick tension you felt rising at the table.

“Please, Illu, don’t bully my maid.” Hisoka said in a cold voice you never heard him use, looking right at his guest.

Confused you looked between the two men. Illumi did nothing, only Hisoka was gripping at you and preventing you to stand up.

“It would be safer if we were to talk about the next mission.” Illumi didn’t even blink.

“You don’t have to worry that. Right?” This time he was looking at you with his usual smile but it sends a shiver down your spine. You understood the message clearly. Hisoka let go of your arm and you made your exit. Not before hearing more of the conversation.

“No need to look at me like that, I was trying to help, Hisoka. I still think it’d be smarter to let me use a needle.” You heard Illumi say.

“I already warned you about touching my toys.” Hisoka sighed.

“We don’t have a shortage of good maid at the estate, I could recommend you one.”

“Ooh Illu, your maids are certainly well trained but they’re boring as hell.” Hisoka’s laugh followed you until you closed the kitchen door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were awaken by your phone ringtone. Rolling on your side you looked at your clock, it was past 2am. You had a pretty good idea of who was calling. That was part of the job though, you sat on your bed ready to drive to Hisoka’s place.

“Yes?” Your voice was a bit hoarse and you moved the phone away to clear your throat.

“You know, Illu’s maids call him Master.”

You hanged up. Immediately Hisoka tried to call again, you put your phone on mute and went back to sleep. Waking up to 34 missed call was a bad sign of how the rest of your day was going to be. Hisoka was going to be more petulant than usual and you’d get lucky to be able to do half your work. Fortunately he was out when you arrived and cleaning went smoothly for the better part of the afternoon. You winced briefly at the sound of the front door opening.

“Hello, honey, I’m home!” He announced in a singsong voice when he entered the bedroom.

“Hello, Sir.” You flattened the bed covers and arranged the pillows.

Really, you had no idea what game he was playing but just ignoring it as usual would be the safest choice. After ignoring him all night you had feared he had more in reserve for you than just playing house. Maybe he wasn’t as petty as you thought.

“Go home safe, honey,” he said as you departed.

“Thank you, Sir.” It was fine by you if that how he’s getting his fun, he could call you however and he seemed to focus on his game to tease you.

For weeks he didn’t stopped. “Honey could you pour me a drink please?”, “Oh honey please make pancakes for diner!”, “Honey could you clean my white outfit?”.

At first it was grating, not enough to react, but still grating. Now you didn’t even pay attention to being called honey ten times a day. It was a new routine and you even forgot what triggered it.

“Hello, honey,” Hisoka’s greeted you as you came in for work.

“Good morning, honey,” you answered automatically.

In half a second you registered what you just said and you clasp your mouth but it was too late. Hisoka was grinning ear to ear.

“Oh my! You’re finally dropping the formality! How cute!” he crooned.

“It was obviously an accident, Sir,” you dismissed. It was stupid to be embarrassed about it but you were, that was like calling the teacher ‘mom’ in front of the whole class. Just a slip of tongue, nonetheless you feel heat on your cheeks.

“Was it really?” his arm encircled you shoulders. “Are you sure you didn’t want to call me that for a while now? It came so naturally! I don’t mind if you were calling me ‘honey’.” Hisoka cooed.

Yup, he spent weeks training like a fucking dog so you’d slip and call you exactly what he wanted to be called. And now he was gloating about his win. What next? He was going to make you bark and give him you paw? Cold anger washed your embarrassment.

“Can I...can I really call you however I like? Even if it’s unprofessional?” Submissively, you looked down and didn’t even try to remove his arm around you. You even tried to blush, remembering all the humiliating moment you experienced hoping it would do the trick.

Hisoka fell silent for a moment and you wondered if he took the bait. You were maybe a bit too obvious but so far you learned he could get ahead of himself because of his pride, that could be enough.

“And how would you like to call me?” You noted a hint of wariness in his voice. Well he didn’t fell for it hook, line, and sinker but he did swallowed the bait alright.

You looked at him with your best smug face, “Sir Bozo” .

[yamithediaperdork]

Billy's Birthday Bash part 1 (DC)

Billy yawned and sat up in bed, reaching over and turning off his alarm clock which was blabbering away about how the justice league had saved the day last night, again. from alien attackers, Again.

"Like I don't know that." Billy muttered, swinging his blanket off and twisting in his bed so his bare feet could hit the floor. "I was only there."

Billy Batson after all was the secret identity of the world's mightiest mortal Shazam, gifted with gifts from seven gods and one of the league's heavy hitters.

Just thinking about that brought a smile to the 13 year old hero's face and he turned to pose in in the mirror in his bedroom, and then his face fell as he saw his reflection.

while once he said his magic word he was a 6'9 muscled beefcake, the image looking back him with it's scrawny arms and chest which were covered with a faded flash themed PJ top while around his hips was a semi bulky and again flash themed overnight diaper, that was drooping from being used many times (Thankfully only wettings though, something he confirmed with a quick pat to his padded rear and a sniff of the air) despite Billy having only made it to bed at around 3 am.

He hadn't of been worried about getting in trouble for being out so late though.

the once orphan had been happily adopted and taken in by one Barry Allen and got alone great with his new dad and tried to be pleasant around Miss west, Barry's girlfriend who came over often enough to have her own key.

It wasn't that she was unpleasant or anything, it was just with Billy's 'problems' acting up bad enough that he needed his diapers basically 24/7, she insisted on diaper checks, even in front of her nephew Wally who'd come over sometimes with her and was like the coolest guy ever!

The reason why he hadn't of been worried about Barry finding out though was because Barry was also a member of the Justice league, ironically the Flash who's symbol had been on the front of the bulky diaper at one point.

"You'd think he'd be mad these things even exist since till Bat's set up that account for us there was no way to collect royalties." Billy grumbled to himself.

But when asked Barry admitted if he could help kids like Billy who had potty issues feel big and brave like superhero's, He was fine with the diapers being made and mostly didn't touch his share of the royalties.

though as Billy's legal guardian Shazam couldn't touch his share either without permission and was irked that Barry would use some of Billy's money to stock up on his diapers.

"I'm teaching you to be reasponable. if you have to pay for the diapers you'll be less likely to rip them up like that first pack Iris got you." Barry had reminded Billy, with a smirk on his face but a slight stern tone.

"I said sorry..besides they had stupid ponies and stuff on them." Billy had whined back.

still he fell in line and even if he had wanted to just blast the diapers with his lighting some times and suck up the wasted cost, with his new day's symbol on it he just couldn't do it.

Since he was only wet Billy was allowed to change himself, there had been the great carpet incident a few days after he'd moved in trying to change a dirty diaper on his own and Barry had made him pinky swear to ask for help with those.

since Billy was on the family plan and had his own cell phone he could just discretely call Barry when he was smelly, though thankfully his daytime accidents were few and fair in between.

Snapping the tapes off Billy had a minor moment sulkiness again since his budding pubic hair had been shaved clean because of his diapers, though he had to admit Barry had been right, he was getting a LOT less rashes.

balling the soggy diaper up and holding it out with one hand, Billy took a deep breath and pinched his nose with the other one as he stepped on the foot petal for his diaper pail and dropped it in, not wishing to smell memories of diaper past.

with that done he walked around enjoying the lack of a waddle in his step for the precious few moments he would and tugged opened his version of a underwear drawer, stocked full of daytime and overnight flash brand diapers.

"Gee, what's a boy to wear, flash themed disposable undies or flash themed disposable undies?" He asked, tapping a finger on his chin and smirking a little."the struggle is real for 13 year old pants wetter."

"heh, Oh really?" Came a voice from the doorway and Billy yelped and tugged to tug his shirt down, even though he knew Barry had seen everything.

"B-Barry knock!" He huffed, and blushed, hands over over his crotch now.

"I did, someone was off in his own little world.. in fact so off he forgot what today is." Barry said and smirked, pointing over to a Shazam themed calendar on the wall, with the dates date circled in red."Your not 13 anymore silly. Happy birthday~"

Billy, who normally was ignored on his birthday either by choice or lost in the shuffle while in foster care really had forgotten and now grinned big time.

"That's right! I get a real party, with cake, and ice cream an-" Billy was saying and was cut off as Barry zipped over, a little bit slower in his blue jeans and denim shirt but not by much and was ruffling Billy's hair.

"And you get a birthday spanking." Barry teased, but winked to let Billy know he was joking.

"Try it and I'll saw you know what." Billy giggled and blew a raspberry.

"Hmmm flash vs. Shazam in a spanking fight. we could sell out areas. But At last, your butt's just too cute to mare." Barry chuckled and gave the boys chubby cheeks a soft pat before zipping back to the door frame.

the pat while gentle, was unexpected and Billy yelped and a little trickle of pee came out, something Barry missed but the now hard wood floor of Billy's room could handle it.

"Finish getting dressed buddy and I'll get this cleaned up in-"

"Don't say it!" Billy groaned rolled his eyes.

"A flash!" Barry said, zipping off as Billy snatched a pair of daytime diapers out.

'He's so corny sometimes.' Billy thought.

Dressed in a red t-shirt and a baggy pair of black shorts that did a good job of hiding the bulk of his padding (there there was a tell tale crinkle for those listening for it) he made his way to the dinning room and grinned ear to ear as the table was loaded with chocolate pancakes, blue berry waffles, fried eggs, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages and a pitcher of chocolate milk and a pitcher of orange juice.

with how fast Barry's metabolism was he was always making big meals and was part of the reason Billy had put on some much needed wait, but even so, this was above and beyond.

with drool trailing down his chin he grabbed a plate and looked over the feast, almost at a lost of where to begin.

"heh, Did daddy do good or did daddy do good?" Barry asked, zipping into the room.

"This. Is. Awesome!" Billy squealed. "Was this all you or did Iris help too?" Billy asked.

"She's out of town on a assignment for a news papers, she's sorry she's gonna miss the party." Barry said, looking sorry.

"Well it's ok." Billy said, starting to load up his plate, a impish grin coming across his face. "we can just have anther party with more cake when she gets back. It'll be hard having all that sugar and getting double presents, but it's a sacrifice I am willing to make." he said, topping off his plate and plopping his butt onto his special chair.

with his bulky diapers and the fact he leaked sometimes, Barry had gotten him a dinner chair with sides coming up to the middle of his tummy so Billy wouldn't lose balance and fall off, and it had a plastic cover for a easier clean up instead of the stained oak that the rest of the chairs had.

Naturally Billy had been least then pleased at the fact he had a toddler chair but after falling off of the other chairs three times he'd finally bit the bullet.

"Oh, your willing to have two party's huh? truly, your a saint among men. We'll see what happens." Barry said, coming over and getting his own plate while taking a second to mentally gush at just how adorable Billy looked, his legs kicking under the table as he scooped food in his mouth like he hadn't eaten in a month. "Heh, wow, and I thought I was fast..slow down before you choke buddy."

Billy as normal, took that warning as a challenge and sped up.

After 4 helpings Billy just sat back in his chair, burping softly and groaning as he put a hand to his belly, not even offering a fight as Barry came over with a cloth to wipe his face and hands.

"Did somebody maybe eat more then he should of?" Barry asked sweetly, as he helped the groaning boy out of the chair, and after a second picked him up, setting him on his hip and patting his back.

Billy's reply was a loud blench and Barry winced, glad he'd had the foresight to get Billy's head over his shoulder.

"well put. any follow ups?" Barry chuckled, and kept patting, this wasn't Billy's first semi food coma and he doubted it would be the little thunder champions last.

Billy went to open his mouth to say something then a loud booming fart blasted out of his bottom and for a split second Barry wondered if his arm would of been burnt if not for the padding.

"I-I didn't..I.." Billy whimpered and buried his head into Barry's shoulder and Barry could feel the heat from the boys face.

"Hey..hey..it's ok. fart's happen. besides you've gone uh-oh in my lap so this is hardly worse." Barry said, tilting his head and giving the poor blushing little guy a smooch on the head.

"N-Not helping!" Billy whined.

"Ok ok, I'll drop it.. here let's get you sat down and watching some carto-" Barry started to say but anther thunder poot from the champion of lighting cut him off.

"gawd! that stinks!" Billy whined.

"...Or Maybe you wanna go and sit on the potty." Barry said trying to be nice, but the boy wasn't wrong.

"I know when I have to go poop Barry!" Billy huffed and two more loud farts came out and the boy switched from huffy to shocked. "..and that would be right now. Potty daddy!"

Any other daddy wouldn't of stood a chance in the world, But Barry Allen didn't call him the fastest man alive for nothing, but even then it was a close call as he barley got Billy's shorts and diaper down and got him on the toilet before the boy started to unleash hell.

Knowing how Billy valued some privacy, Barry left almost as quick as he'd gotten him in there, though not before bringing a few room freshers into the bathroom and opening a window.

'don't want him to pass out form his own stink.. man..I wonder if there's anther god powering.. skunkculues, champion of stink.' Barry mused as he waited outside the bathroom door just in case he was needed.

Billy groaned as he hunched over and pounded a fist on the sink's counter, wondering if maybe he had a natural power over lava because that's what this felt like as he made use of the potty.

His own stink was assaulting his nose though thankfully daddy had set it up so it would be as bad, though he still ended up having to flush a couple of times just to help with the smell.

Sweating, Panting and feeling drained, he barley had it in him to wipe himself when it was all said and done, and swore he'd never cram that much food into his tummy again all at once.

(of course since he swore that once every three or so days the oath may of fallen on deaf ear.)

which his cheeks wiped, Billy went to stand up on shaky legs and plopped back down, then noticed the shart stains in the back of the diaper and signed.

"Dadddd..IUh...I need help." he called out. huffing and slumping, elbows on his knees and waiting.

when the door opened up and his cousin/cool bro via adoption opened the door Billy yelped and in vain tried to cover up the diaper around his ankles.

4 minutes earlier...

Wally who had retired from the superhero game while going to collage and trying to be a CSI like Barry, had surprised Barry by showing up for the party.

"Wally! good to see you!" Barry had said, shaking the younger mans hand, but then, ever the good daddy/uncle had narrowed his eyes. "Aren't you suppose to be in class right now?"

"The professor for the only class I had today had a family emergency, so the class was called off, and I was gonna try and make it anyways." Wally said, keeping his voice down and Barry picked up on it and kept his down as well.

"Ah, a birthday surprise for Billy." Barry said and smirked. "you know he thinks the world of you right?"

"I might of picked up on that. hence why I pretend not to notice his little problem." Wally chuckled and ran a hand though his orange hair. "you'd think he would of linked how Aunt Iris doesn't do bum checks when I'm around with it buttt.."

"Heh, Well he see's what he wants to see. He's on the potty right now though so maybe if you hi-" Barry started to say when his com beeped.

it wasn't his JL com, but the one he'd given the Meta human crimes department for central and Keystone city, being the hero of the twin cities.

dashing over he answered it, and frowned, then dashed back to Wally but even as he did he was in costume.

"I hate to do this, but Weather wizard and Captain cold are causing heck in Keystone. could you stay with Billy? he might need a little help." Barry said and gestured his head to the bathroom.

"Of course. Listen, if you need any back up.. I might not have my costume, but after Billy gets out.."

"Hey, I'll handle it. I'll be back.."

"in a flash. I know I know." Wally groaned, having the same opinion as Billy about the phase.

Barry just smirked like it was the worlds greatest dad joke and took off.

"W-Wally!? Get out! I-" Billy was whining and had actual tears welling up in his eyes, making Wally just wanna hug him.

"Billy, Billy listen to me, Barry had to go and fight the rouges, I came here for your party..and I've know about your diapers since Barry adopted you." Wally said, cutting right to the chase.

"..No you haven't! I was super careful and someone as cool and awesome as you wouldn't wanna hang out with a diaper wetting baby!" Billy whined, in denial even as Wally sighed and shook his head.

"Really Billy? I'm training to be a CSI, so I'm learning to notice little things, I move at super speed, not as fast as Barry but still, and you crinkle lots." Wally listed off on his hand, raising fingers, then giving Billy a hurt look. "Also, you think SO little of me I wouldn't wanna hang out with a awesome and cool little guy like you just because you have accidents?"

"But..I.." Billy whimpered and sniffled, and went to wipe at his tears with his arm but Wally was there, with a wad of tissue.

"Hey, it's ok Billy. Truth be told, I wet the bed for 3 years after getting my powers. But My Parents weren't as nice and Uncle Barry and aunt Iris. they were the ones who looked after me like they're looking after you now. so no more tears alright? let's get you dressed and then we can play some video games." Wally said, and ruffled the boys hair.

Billy gave him a smile and then hugged Wally's waist, and the 19 year old almost melted and patting his head.

Tossing the dirty diaper, Wally got Billy in a clean over night diaper, and added powder, though Billy whined a little he was pacified by Wally saying he thought those looked cooler.

Going off of that logic Billy when offered a pair of baggy pants to go over the thicker diaper went all shy.

"uh. well..I mean.. if you wanna see this diaper because it's cuter.. and we're not going out anywhere.." Billy said, squirming and shifting all around.

"..I do think it's cuter, and Barry said he'd call if he needed us. Uh.. " wally trailed off and then blushed himself, and put a hand behind his head. "I have ONE question that's been bugging me."

"heh, what is it?" Billy said, holding up his arms for the older boy to pick him up.

"when you change.. do you have to take the diapers off first or..how does that work?!" Wally asked, picking him up and gushing as Billy cuddled in.

"heh, Nah, the big guy isn't padded, and as to how that works.." Billy paused and let wally hold his weight as he spread his hands, wiggling his fingers.

"Maggggggic~"

Wally snorted and smirked.

"your such a dork sometimes you know that?" he asked playfully, carrying Billy at normal speed down the stairs.

"Pffft please, I've seen you marking out over dad's cases when going over them with him, and not his stuff as flash, but as Barry Allen,CSI."Billy teased back.

Wally huffed and blushed himself and then smirked.

"You're lucky your cute or I'd super speed your butt to central park right now."

"heh, you wouldn't do that, A) because I'd say the word and leave, B) because Dad would kick you butt and C).." Billy said and tapped Wally's chest as he listed off his points. "You'd made me cry and hate yourself for it~"

"..Dang, guilty as charged."

Getting into the living room, Wally sat Billy on the couch and then went to look though the selection of games they had for two player.

"Super monkey fury 5 good for you?" He asked, looking over his shoulder.

"Um..whatever YOU think is a cool game!" Billy said, and gave a big grin.

he might of been 14 but in his diaper and t-shirt, and all eager to please his 'big bro' figure, he looked like a toddler.

"Heh, it's YOUR special day Billy, whatever YOU wanna play we'll play it." wally chuckled.

"W-Wellll.. Dad doesn't let me play Duty calls a lot because it's so violent.." Billy said, poking two fingers together.

"..I think Barry will understand." Wally smirked and put the game in, coming over with controllers for both of them.

As Wally sat down he was surprised as Billy moved from his spot next to him to sitting in his lap.

"heh,What are y-"

"it's MY Special day right?" Billy asked, flashing his imp smirk. "So I can sit anywhere I want.. rightttt?"

"heh. of course."

Barry hated how long it took him to deal with the rouges, they had gotten reinforcements from mirror master so it took longer then he would of liked to finish up, plus then he had to deal with the police over and handle the press, all part of keeping up the hero image and while any other day it wouldn't of irk'ed him, knowing he was missing out on Billy's big day, he was short tempered

he had almost snapped at Detective Morro, a long time friend on the force in both identities but caught himself.

"you ok Flash?" his friend asked.

"I..I'm missing out on my kid's birthday party for this." Barry admitted.

"heh, didn't know you HAD a kid. go on, get." the heavy set cigar chomping hard ass said. "We'll try to manage without you for the rest of the day...Oh, tell yer kid happy birthday."

"heh, Will do!" Barry said and after a trademark flash salute, was off and running.

Getting back to the house Barry found Billy in Wally lap and whining a little, sucking his thumb and a kiddy cartoon was on the TV, much younger then Billy usually liked to watch.

"Hey guys, I'm back, whats going on?" Barry asked.

"Oh well see, I was a jerk and tried to make Billy play a game I like an-" Wally started to speak up but a whimpering Billy cut him off.

"Noo! it was me! I made Wally play duty call's with me and it was way more awful then I thought and I know I've done worse as you know who but but..I dunno and I started to cry and and-" Billy whined and whimpered.

"..Billy when your Shazam you have the wisdom of Solomon that let's you work out why you have to do the things you do. not so much as yourself. that's why I didn't want you playing that, you're not in trouble, either of you but I think we're gonna keep it to cartoons or silly games for the day." Barry said, coming over and as Wally hugged the whining Billy in his lap, Barry did too and Billy sniffled and smiled.

"Kay"

with Billy calmed down, they sat down for a few episodes of different baby shows, with billy giggling and clapping alone even if Wally and Barry were bored out of their skulls. trying to break it up they pulled out a few board games but after having to watch Billy do his 'i won you lost' diaper booty shake 4 times in a row (which admittedly was pretty cute with his diaper butt on display) they switched from candy land to clue, where Wally won 2 out of the 4 games.

Barry technically could of won the other two but played bad on purpose for the last game where billy was getting all huffy.

After that they played pay day and once again were subjected to Billy's singing about how awesome he was and how much they sucked, while wiggling his padded rear in their faces but compared to the sulky silence that losing brought, Barry and wally put up with it.

Or at least they tried to till in the middle of shaking his butt in both their faces Billy froze and then let out a muffled poot.

"Really Billy?" Barry asked, waving his left hand at super speed to blow the smell away.

"I-I didn't mean to.d-do that! I'm Sorry!" Billy squeaked and turned around, blushing and starting to tear up. "P-Please don't ha-"

Before Billy could finish his thought, Wally and Barry were on either side of Billy, hugging him.

"Hey, hey, It's alright, Fart's happen." Wally was saying, rubbing and patting Billy's back.

"And I'm 90 percent sure you wouldn't fart on me after winning a game. Now if you lost.." Barry said and winked, patting billy's bum.

"D-Daddy!"

"Hmmm, Feels like it was just a fart, do you wanna sit on the potty just to be sure buddy?" Barry asked.

"Daddy, I know when I have to po-" Billy started and let out a long fart, one eye half closing and a leg coming up. the fart went from a normal sounding if massive one to wet and muddy, then Billy's leg came down and he was popping a squat.

Of course either Wally or Barry could of gotten him to the bathroom, but honestly, they had both agreed wordlessly to just let him fill his diapers.

"D-Daddy I'm Pooping!" Billy whined, as if Wally or Billy couldn't of told, and they just hugged him tighter and went double time with the bum and back pats as he whimpered and put his face in either shoulder, bearing down and finishing up even as whimpers of 'stinky' came out of his mouth.

As the diaper drooped in the back and Billy finished up, he sniffled a few times then pulled back.

"D-Daddy..Wally..Diapie change?" He asked in a voice that made him sound like a toddler.

"Of course buddy. I'll have you clean i-" Barry started to say but Wally moved his hand over and closed Barry's lips.

"I'll change him it means I don't have to hear that pun again." Wally said and winked to Billy even as Barry's eyes went wide from shock then a little glare.

Billy meanwhile was giggling like crazy and hands coming up his mouth to try and hide it.

Barry got Wally's fingers off his lips and smirked.

"oh, you think that's funny little man?" Barry asked, looking to wally and giving a evil smirk.

"I mean.. Kinda.. sowwy.." Billy said.

"Oh come on Barry, it WAS funny." Wally said and smirked.

"..Not as funny as this is gonna be." Barry said and Wally saw what was going to happen but could never beat Barry's speed, so was too slow to stop what happened next.

His hand moving at a blur, Barry smushed and squished the mess in the diaper around, making sure the boom boom went EVERY where as Billy's mouth formed a O and Wally groaned.

Zipping up to his feet Barry smirked.

"Have fun cleaning that up.. Oh and you can't use speed speed for cleaning up a poopie diaper, it'll hurt billy's bum." Barry said and went off to go and start working on lunch.

"wait what?!"Wally yelped.

"I..Poopie all over..I.." Billy was mumbling, looking out of it, and swaying back and forth on his feet, too out of it for Wally to ask if that was really a thing.

"DICK MOVE BARRY!" Wally yelled, then cradled Billy, the smell was even worst now and Wally gulped, wondering if he was strong enough to do this.

Billy mewed softly and wrapped his arms around Wally's neck and nuzzled his head into Wally's chest.

"I Sowwy. I stinky." Billy mewed, eyes semi glazed over.

Looking at how much Billy needed him, Wally found the will power needed and dashed billy off to the bathroom, though he did a slight detour to get a clothespin for his nose.

'maybe it won't be as bad as I think.' Wally thought, getting Billy on his back on a towel in the bathroom, sliding the little guys thumb into his mouth and gushing at how cute he looked.

opening the diaper, Wally realized it wasn't as bad as he thought.

it was worse, much much much.

Wally wasn't a stranger to changing diapers, as big of a family as he had and baby sitting jobs but this was the record for longest and grossest he'd ever handled.

going though a whole freshly opened box of wipes, he got it done, going at normal speed and taking time to comfort billy and talk softly to him.

it took the better part of 15 minutes, and then just to be safe Wally gave Billy a quick bath, semi worried as Billy had apparently slipped into a baby mode of sorts and was playing with some rubber duckies while Wally washed him, at one point offering one of the duckies he had been chewing on to wally.

"Uh..No thanks. you keep chewing." Wally said with a sweat drop.

Billy just giggled and nodded, noming on his ducky and letting wally wash him, only fussing when his hair was being washed, though thankfully Barry had gotten no more tears shampoo.

with Billy washed up all nice and clean, Wally got him dried off with a big fluffy towel and was walking him back toward his room to get him dressed when Barry cut him off, holding one of the presents under one arm.

"Thought I heard the tub running.Lunch is ready downstairs, I'll get the birthday boy dressed. go get something to eat." Barry said.

"Heh, Sure, now that I've handed all the smelly stuff you wanna tag in." Wally teased, and Billy giggled.

"What can I say, Perks of being a daddy and honorary uncle." Barry said.

Wally just shook his head and headed down the step while Billy toddled along side Barry, wrapped up in the towel and then just laid back his bed, willing to let Barry do all the work.

"heh, your being pretty cute kiddo. maybe you should poop your pants more often." Barry teased, tickling billy's tummy and getting a fit of giggles out of him.

Deciding with how little Billy was acting and the bigger accidents he was have, Barry got billy into a daytime diaper but cut slit in the front of back of it first, while Billy watched with a confused look and a finger on his bottom lip.

"Ummm daddy, what cha doing? I'm leak all over now." Billy pointed out.

"Well, if that was your only diapie you would, but daddy figures since we're not going out and you're having lots of accident's.." Barry said and pulled out the bulky bed time diaper.

"Sheesh, I'll be waddling like a toddler with both of these on!" Billy said and stuck out his tongue.

"I know! I don't know why i didn't think of this sooner!" Barry gushed and got a raspberry from billy.

with the bulky diaper taped up over the thinner one, Barry helped billy stand up and gushed and coo'ed at how Billy's legs were forced apart.

"Sheesh, One more and I think I'd be stuck crawling!" Billy said, rubbing the back of his head.

"Don't temp me." Barry said then handed Billy the present. "Here, open this up, it's from Iris and I thought it might be useful right now."

Warning bell's were going off in Billy's head as he took the present and he had to suppress a groan, it was a flash themed diaper shirt.

"Well what do you think? Iris noticed that your diaper sag a lot when you got pants-less and this will help! Heck, might even get you a few of theses if it works out. but for now,you can be the fastest pamper butt alive!" Barry asked.

"..I think I'll save it special occasions." Billy tried and Barry just laughed.

"Silly boy, this is your birthday, that IS special, here, I'll help you get it on." Barry said taking the diaper shirt from Billy and dashing around the boy. in seconds he was snugly fit in the diaper shirt.

Despite how humiliating it was to need the shirt for his saggy diapers, Billy had to admit it felt right, even if his bulky diapers semi showed.

"Soooo?" Barry asked.

"..I could get used to it. " he said and started to head for the door, realizing just HOW bad his waddling was now as Barry squealed behind him. "..I'll calling it in. carry me."

Billy sighed then giggled, holding his arms out.

"Well if I HAVE to." Barry laughed, coming over and picking up Billy and heading for the dinner table.

So far the day had been fun and cute, and it was only gonna get better.