#if I find the energy I'm gonna clean it up a bit and maybe paint it

[rapidreptile]

just a little guy?

[massivedrickhead]

99 for the prompt please.

99. Starting a family with them.

Words: 3673

Notes: Once again, I'm sorry it took so long to write this prompt request. I didn't intend for it to be this long, but once I started writing I realised it was a universe I wanted to spend more time in. So if people like it, I would be up for writing more.

Read on AO3

101 ways to say I love you with actions

Beca and Chloe hung back, hovering by the doorway of the newly decorated bedroom, watching as twelve-year-old Levi looked around the room. His hand was tightly gripping the strap of his backpack as if afraid it would be whipped away from him at any second.

He looked so much older than he was. Looking at him it was hard to believe he wasn’t even a teenager yet.

“We can paint it a different colour,” Chloe blurted out, never one to deal with silence very well. “If you don’t like grey. We thought neutral would be best but-”

Beca gently elbowed her in the ribs, and she stopped rambling. Chloe was radiating nervous energy, and Beca didn’t want Levi to pick up on it.

It had all been leading up to this moment. The application forms, the meetings, home visits, parenting classes, all of it had been leading up to this. 

They had met Levi a few times now, but this was his first night in their home. In his new home. If it all went well… 

They both knew things could still go wrong, they were still a long way off from adoption, but this felt like the biggest step they’d taken so far. 

They were both so excited to be finally starting their family. Both so terrified that they were going to mess it all up.

“The colour’s fine,” Levi said, still looking around the room. It wasn’t big, but it was comfortable. Clean and tidy, still smelling of fresh paint. “It’s nice.”

There was a bookcase in the corner that was empty save for a few used paperbacks they thought he might like, mostly ones Beca had gotten from her dad when she was a teenager. 

Under the window was an empty desk with a chair tucked neatly underneath, and a wardrobe and chest of drawers lined the wall opposite a double bed. A nightstand stood on either side of the bed. An alarm clock on one side, a lamp on the other.

“It’s a little bare right now,” Chloe said, her nerves bubbling up again in the silence. “But we thought maybe you’d like to pick things out for yourself? We could take a trip to IKEA or something at the weekend? Maybe we could get you some new clothes too while we’re out if you like? We’ve already bought you a few bits, but we don’t know what you like to wear or-”

Another elbow in the side from Beca.

“Or we could get it for you,” Beca said, her voice calm in comparison to Chloe’s babbling, “if you don’t want to come. I know I hated shopping when I was your age.”

“You still hate shopping,” Chloe said. 

“Very true,” Beca agreed. 

“IKEA sounds like fun,” Levi said. “I’ve never got to pick out my own things before.”

Chloe beamed. “Awesome!”

“We’re gonna let you get settled in,” Beca said. “I need to check in with work, and Chloe is going to finish up dinner. Come and find us if you need anything, okay?”

“Yeah,” Levi said, looking relieved to be given some alone time. “Um, thanks.”

“Mac and cheese for dinner!” Chloe said, brightly. “Ice cream and a movie after, if you eat all your veggies!”

Levi pulled a face. “Veggies?”

“Oh, Chloe will make us eat vegetables with almost every meal, dude. It’s really the only thing that’s wrong with her,” Beca said.

Chloe whacked her playfully on the arm, and Levi laughed before he could stop himself.

“Make yourself at home, okay kid?” Beca said. Levi nodded, and Beca smiled at him before leaving the room and shutting the door behind her.

Instead of going into the kitchen, Chloe followed Beca into her office.

“It seems to be going well,” Chloe said, starting to pace as soon as Beca sat down at her desk. “Right? Like he seems to like it.”

“Yeah,” Beca said, looking up from her computer, watching Chloe walking in circles around the room. “So far so good.”

“Am I being too much? Like, overbearing? I don’t want to be weird and freak him out.”

Beca smiled. “You aren’t being weird. You’re making me dizzy with all the pacing, but you aren’t being weird. You aren’t too much.”

“I’m just so nervous,” Chloe said, wringing her hands.

Beca stood from her desk, and placed her hands on Chloe’s shoulders, stopping her from pacing. “I know,” Beca said. “So am I, and I bet he is too. It’s normal to be nervous when you care about something this much.”

“What if he hates it here? What if he tries to run away like he did at his last foster home? What if we can’t do this, Bec?”

Beca’s hands moved from Chloe’s shoulders to cup her face. “Take a breath,” she said, trying to get Chloe to hold eye contact with her. “We can do this. We know why he ran away from his last home, and we aren’t going to treat him like that, are we?”

Chloe shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. “Of course not.”

“He isn’t going to have any reason to want to run away from us, and he isn’t going to have any reason to hate it here. I’m sure we’re going to make mistakes, it feels like we’re starting at level 5 of a video game without playing the tutorial first, but I know us. I know we can do this. I know you can do this. Let’s be the parents he never got the chance to have, yeah?”

Chloe swallowed and nodded. “Yeah,” she said, hastily wiping at the tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think I’d start spiralling so quickly.”

“It’s okay,” Beca said, kissing her forehead. “You don’t need to be sorry. You feel this way because you care a lot, and that’s a good thing. I’m sure I’m gonna have my freak-out moments, and I know you’ll be there to talk me down.”

“We’re going to need to plan them so we don’t both have a meltdown at the same time,” Chloe said, causing Beca to laugh.

“I’ll put a schedule up on the fridge.” She kissed Chloe again, and let her hands drop. “I’m gonna go finish dinner.”

“I thought you had to work?”

“It can wait,” Beca said. “Take a few minutes to get yourself grounded again and then come help me?”

Chloe smiled and nodded. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

-

“Levi, dinner’s ready!” Chloe called into the hall, spooning mac and cheese onto plates. 

Beca was setting the table, putting down placemats and cutlery, her heart soaring as she finally got to set the table for three instead of two.

Levi came into the room and hovered near the door, as if unsure where he should go.

Chloe smiled at him. “Can you grab some glasses out of that cabinet and put them on the table?” She asked him.

He nodded and did what she asked, placing three glasses on the table by a pitcher of water. Beca took the plates from Chloe, and placed one on each mat, glancing at Levi who still seemed uncertain.

“Have a seat wherever you’d like,” Beca said, sitting down in her usual spot. Levi hesitated for a moment before he took a seat next to Beca.

“Okay, dig in,” Chloe said, sitting opposite Beca, smiling as she watched her start removing the broccoli from her own plate and putting it on Chloe’s. “What did I say about eating veggies?”

“And what did I say about making me eat broccoli?”

“It’s good for you,” Chloe said, doing her best to look stern.

“Yeah, it tastes good for me,” Beca replied. Levi laughed, and Beca felt it in her chest.

“Do I need to start hiding it in the mac and cheese again?” Chloe asked.

“Not if you want us to stay married,” Beca said, smirking as she watched Chloe trying not to laugh. 

“Hmm, how could I cope without you? What would I do if there was no one hogging all the bed space and letting dishes pile up in their office? I don’t know if I could live that way,” Chloe said, her eyes twinkling at Beca as Levi continued to laugh.

“Ouch,” Beca said. “You’re making me look bad.”

“Maybe next time you’ll just eat your greens.”

They bantered back and forth while they ate, and Chloe felt the nerves she’d been carrying for the last few weeks begin to slowly dissipate. He was here. He was finally home, eating dinner with them, laughing at Beca’s lame jokes.

It had been over a year since she had Beca had decided that adoption was the way they wanted to start their family together, and a little under a year since they’d decided they wanted to adopt an older kid. A kid that was more likely to get lost in the system until they aged out of it. 

It had been stressful and emotional, but they’d made it this far. They were parents now. 

“I’m stuffed,” Levi said, putting his knife and fork down. 

“Not too stuffed for ice cream though, right?” Beca asked. 

He shook his head and grinned again. 

“I can still see something green on your plate,” Chloe said.

“Don’t worry, I got this,” Beca mumbled to Levi. “Hey, Chloe, what’s that behind you?”

Chloe rolled her eyes but turned anyway, and Beca took the piece of broccoli from Levi’s plate and put it on Chloe’s.

“Now who hasn’t eaten all her vegetables?” Beca asked.

“Don’t laugh, you’ll just encourage her,” Chloe said as Levi practically giggled beside her. It was a contagious laugh and Chloe couldn’t help but join in. 

Beca gathered their plates and piled them into the dishwasher before getting the ice cream out of the freezer.

“What movie are we watching?” She asked. “Also, Levi, do you want mint chocolate chip or strawberry shortcake? Or I think we have some vanilla buried in here somewhere?”

“Um, mint please,” he said, standing to help Chloe clear the table.

“Atta boy,” Beca said, scooping out the mint for herself and Levi, followed by the strawberry shortcake for Chloe.

“Go get comfy on the sofa,” Chloe said to Levi. “You can start picking a movie. We’ve got Disney Plus, Netflix, Prime, the whole lot.”

“We have too many,” Beca added. 

Levi dropped onto one of the sofas and started scrolling through Disney Plus.

“All good?” Beca asked Chloe quietly. 

Chloe nodded, and let her head rest on Beca’s shoulder briefly. “You made him laugh.”

“Yeah,” Beca said. “That felt good. He looked so serious when he got here. So grown up. It was nice seeing him look like a kid again.”

They joined Levi in the living room a few minutes later and Chloe sat on the sofa beside Levi. Beca sat on Chloe’s other side and handed Levi his ice cream.

“Did you pick something?” Beca asked.

“There’s too much choice,” he said with a shake of the head.

“That’s what I’m always saying!” Beca said, her voice triumphant as if she’d just won an argument she was constantly having with Chloe.

“Choice is a good thing,” Chloe countered. “What sort of movies do you usually like?” Levi shrugged. “Comedies? Action? Musicals?”

His eyes flicked in Chloe’s direction.

“You like musicals?” Chloe asked. Levi shrugged again. “Musicals are the best.”

“They’re okay,” Levi said as if he was admitting something embarrassing. He shifted in his seat slightly, his attention focused on his ice cream. “Richard, the, um, the guy from my last foster home, he said musicals were for girls. Girls and fa- I mean, girls and, um, gay people.”

“He doesn’t sound like a very nice guy,” Chloe said, trying to tread carefully.

“He’s also totally wrong,” Beca added. “I’m a girl and I’m gay, and I don’t like musicals.”

Levi grinned, but he didn’t look up from his ice cream. “He was a jerk,” he said. 

“So we probably shouldn’t worry about anything he had to say,” Chloe said. “It doesn’t matter what he thinks, because he isn’t here and you don’t have to deal with him anymore.”

“No one here is going to make you feel bad about the things you like,” Beca said. “You’re… You’re safe here, Levi. I know you really don’t know us yet, but, well, we want to be your parents, or guardians if that’s what you’d prefer. We want to take care of you. And we’re going to keep you safe, especially from big jerks like Richard.”

Levi nodded but didn’t say anything else. He seemed embarrassed and maybe a little uncomfortable, so Chloe turned her attention back to the TV. 

“Have you seen Hamilton?” She asked.

Levi looked up and shook his head.

“You’ll love it,” Chloe said, clicking on it and hitting play. “Even Beca likes Hamilton.”

Halfway through Beca’s phone rang, so Chloe hit pause on the movie and used it as an excuse to stretch her legs and tidy away their empty bowls.

“Sorry, it’s work,” Beca said, answering the call and quickly leaving the room. 

“Do you want a drink or anything?” Chloe asked, carrying the bowls through to the kitchen.

“No thanks,” he said, turning so he was kneeling on the sofa, looking over the back of it at Chloe in the kitchen. He seemed more relaxed now than he had been since he arrived. “Does Beca usually work at night?”

“Sometimes,” Chloe said. “She’s not supposed to, and they aren’t supposed to call her after six anymore.”

“How come?” He asked.

“Because she gets a bit… wrapped up in work. She really loves her job and she’s really good at it, and sometimes she works so hard that she forgets she needs to do other things too.”

“Like what?”

“Like eat, sleep, and spend time with her wife,” Chloe said, glancing towards the door Beca had just left through. 

“She forgets to eat?” Levi asked like he’d never heard anything so crazy.

Chloe laughed at the incredulity in his voice and nodded. “It’s happened more than once.”

“She works in music, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Chloe said, returning to sit beside him on the sofa. “She’s a producer. She helps artists make their songs sound as good as possible.”

“And you’re a vet?” 

“I am,” Chloe said, grinning. “What do you think you might want to do for a job when you’re finished with school?”

Levi shrugged again. “I don’t know. I’m not really good at anything.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Chloe said. “I bet there are lots of things you’re good at. But it’s okay if you don’t know what you want to be yet. I didn’t know I wanted to be a vet until after I’d graduated college.”

“You didn’t? What did you want to be before then?”

“I honestly didn’t know,” Chloe said. “Sometimes it takes people a long time to find their calling, and not everybody has one. Beca has known since she was a kid that she wanted to make music, but I didn’t know until after college what I wanted to do. So it’s okay if you don’t know yet. It’s okay if you never know.”

Levi thought for a moment. “I like to draw,” he said.

Chloe’s eyes lit up again. “You do? That’s so cool! Do you have any drawings you can show me?”

“They aren’t very good,” he said, his ears turning red.

“That’s okay,” Chloe said. “They don’t need to be good, as long as you had fun drawing them.”

“I have my sketchbook in my room,” he said.

“You’ll let me look at it?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Um, I’ll go and get it.”

He returned a few minutes later, holding the sketchbook in his hand like it was his most prized possession, which it likely was.

He tapped his fingers against the cover before sitting beside Chloe on the sofa again.

“You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to,” Chloe said, sensing his hesitation.

“No, it’s okay, I want to,” he said. 

He handed over the book and Chloe began carefully turning the pages.

She couldn’t have smiled harder if she tried.

The book was full of drawings of superheroes and comic book characters and even little comic panels he’d drawn up himself.

Chloe could see his drawings improve as she turned the pages. She could see the points when he’d begun to understand proportions and poses. She asked him about the characters, and he seemed embarrassed to admit that he’d come up with a lot of them himself.

“That’s so clever,” Chloe said, turning the pages. “I can’t do anything like this.”

“They aren’t that good,” he said, the tips of his ears glowing red again. “They’re not as good as, like, Spiderman or anyone.”

“Well Stan Lee had to start somewhere,” Chloe said, not wanting to look away from the pages. “What about this guy? What’s his superpower?”

Beca had finished up with her call and had returned to the living room. She leaned against the doorway, her heart practically bursting as she watched Chloe and Levi interact. He was talking to her animatedly now. Excitedly. And she could see the warmth and love in Chloe’s eyes as she hung on his every word.

Chloe glanced up and their eyes met. She was grinning so hard it made Beca want to cry.

Chloe had wanted this for so long. She’d wanted to be a mom, to have a family, for so long. 

“Bec, come look at these, they’re so good,” she said, waving her over to the sofa.

“Is that okay?” Beca asked Levi, who nodded. She took the book from Chloe and started looking through it the same way Chloe had. Handling it like it was made of gold, turning each page carefully. “Dude, these are seriously so cool. You came up with all this stuff by yourself?”

“Yeah,” he said, shifting a little closer to Chloe so he could see what Beca was looking at. He pointed to a character on the page that looked like it was in a particularly complex pose. “That one took me ages.”

“I bet,” Beca said. “It looks like you worked really hard on it.”

“I did,” he said, with something like pride in his voice. Beca wondered how many people he’d shown this to. How many people had praised him on it. She hoped they weren’t the first, but judging by his reactions it couldn’t have been many.

The drawings stopped with only a few blank pages left in the book. “You’re almost out of pages,” Beca said, handing the book back.

“Yeah,” he said with a frown. “I’ve been trying to save them so I don’t run out.”

Beca glanced at Chloe. “We’ll have to get you a new one,” Beca said.

His eyes flicked up again. “Really?”

“Of course,” Chloe said. “We can’t leave you with nothing to draw on.”

“We’ll be giving you an allowance each week,” Beca said. “You can spend it on whatever you want.”

“But maybe this could be an extra treat,” Chloe said. “Call it a welcome home present. I think there’s a Michaels close to IKEA. We could go this weekend when we get the stuff for your bedroom?”

“Can we?” He asked, looking between them.

“Yeah, of course we can,” Beca said. “If you want to.”

“I want to,” he said, his eyes lit up with excitement. “Thank you!”

“And here was me thinking I’d have to beg you to come shopping with me,” Chloe said, grinning at the excitement on Levi’s face. “So, are we gonna finish this movie?”

“Yeah,” Levi said, sitting back down, his attention returning to the screen.

Chloe got comfortable beside him as Beca sat on her other side. Beca took hold of her hand and squeezed as she pressed play on the remote with the other.

When the movie was almost done, Chloe felt her chest get tight as Levi let his head rest on her shoulder. She squeezed Beca’s hand, who glanced over and smiled.

When the credits rolled Levi sat up and stretched.

“Think it might be time for bed,” Beca said, checking her watch and yawning. “Do you want to take a drink of water or something to bed with you Levi?”

“Yes please,” he said, and Beca stood to go and get him one, ruffling his hair as she passed.

“Did you enjoy it?” Chloe asked, turning off the TV.

“Yeah,” he said. “I really liked it.” 

“I’m so glad you like musicals,” Chloe said. “Now I’ll have someone to watch them with.”

“You’re really taking a bullet for me here, dude,” Beca said, handing him his water. 

He took it with a smile and followed them down the hall to his room. 

“We sleep just across the hall,” Chloe said as they hovered in the doorway again. “Come get us if you need anything, okay?”

He nodded and put his glass down on his nightstand. Then, after a few seconds of hesitation, he took a step toward Chloe and wrapped his arms around her. 

She hugged him back quickly, looking at Beca as her eyes filled with tears.

“I’m so happy you’re here, Levi,” she said.

“Me too,” he said.

When the hug ended, he turned and did the same to Beca, catching her slightly off guard. She hugged him back, a hand coming to ruffle through his hair again. 

“Night kid,” she said when the hug was over.

“Night,” he said back.

“Sleep tight,” Chloe said. 

“Thanks,” he said. “Goodnight.”

They closed his door behind them and went into their own room, neither speaking until the door was closed.

“He hugged us,” Chloe said. “He likes us, Bec.”

“Yeah,” Beca said, letting out a shaky laugh of disbelief, tears springing to her eyes. Chloe pulled her into a hug and kissed the side of her head. “I’m so happy he’s here. I’m so happy he’s home.”

“Me too,” Chloe said. “Me too.”

[everythingthemoontouches]

Can I get a reading of what Maribel ♓️ thinks of me? Does she know I like her in a romantic way?

- T ♍️

Hello T

🌹I wonder if you guys have used a medicinal cleaning rag 🦄, or some alcohol based disinfectant around each other a lot or in a significant way? I've applied two coats of really strong nail paint since I started this read. Or maybe she really associates you with drinks / a certain type of smell.

Lol, so this reflects my reaction to this ask which was, y'all have got to stop cheating by asking oracles and tarot and just live your lives(pot meet kettle? 😂🍯) #takesomerisks

In other words, I feel like she has an inkling you might be about to ask her out soon, like the 6 of Cups just tells me she's waiting for that lovely little bouquet, or to be told that you'd like to be more than friends perhaps. She kinda knows though?

The heron in the star tells me she wants to tell you something?

♒She sees you as someone hardworking, a bit eccentric, unafraid to stand your own and she really admires the way you water your own garden. I think you guys have similar ideas and outlooks on what you want from life. There's this sense of pride she sees in you. I'm quite certain that she respects the person that you are. I feel she knows that you're single or atleast there aren't any complicated situationships. On that note, been single for a while now, which brings me to the 9 of pentacles.

You could be somehow giving her the idea that you're quite happy on your own 🙄(boiis smh) which is seriously great to hear, but if you're ready for something more, I suggest you could give her hints about that or just flat out tell her, nicely 🥰

Please don't do the whole' oh I'm so happy to be single' routine around her. Show here that you're looking for a relationship if that's what you truly want. She really values you as a friend (the star represents aquarius which is all about friendship and community) so I can see the reluctance to risk making things awkward. As the virgo, I'm pretty sure you could be overthinking every move / putting up too many defenses etc. A friend of mine dated a virgo guy and he didn't tell her he loved her 3 months into their relationship. It's good to want to be sure of things but the trouble is, that if she, is someone who wears her heart on her sleeve this kind of reluctance is gonna send out a very clear ' I'm not interested in dating/ dating YOU' kind of a message and we wouldn't want that now, do we? You bring her structure she shows you how to take things easy. I think you'd compliment each other quite well.

I'm feeling a lot of water sign energy for sure with the cups. There's a lot of love, and genuine care for each other. You cards are also in such harmony of each other water and earth make a really good sign. I know you've only mentioned your Zodiac signs but I ha e a feeling that if you were to look at each others charts you'd find some really good aspects for a healthy, loving relationship. The kind where you give the other person room to be themself and cherish them for who they are.

Good luck 💕✨

Tell me how it goes?

[fireblaze5555]

Hi All! After discovering a love for the Kastle ship and reading numerous excellent fics about them I decided to give it a try myself. This is just a oneshot I thought of yesterday but I do have a full story I am working on at the moment.

This is explicit, sexual content and language so beware if you are not a fan of either of those!

You can also find it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23396581

Thanks for reading!

Title: Distance

Summary: Post TPS2, Karen gets injured chasing a lead, Frank finds her in bad shape, helping patch her up and also unwillingly dealing with his feelings for Karen.

----------------------------------------------

Karen's hands were shaking and covered in her own blood. It seemed so much easier sewing someone else's skin together, hell, she had so much practice on Frank by now she should be a professional. An honorary nurse. As it was, she could barely thread the needle much less start to put herself back together. She was still bleeding pretty heavily, maybe she made a bad judgement call, not going to the hospital. But at the hospital they would ask a lot of questions and she couldn't afford that at this point. She had pushed a little too hard on the lead for this Smithson case and really didn't want to hear from Mahoney, once again, that if he caught her trespassing for information one more time he was going to have her locked up. He may actually mean it this time. Not to mention Matt would start with the preaching and she just didn't have the energy for it right now.

So there she sat, on the edge of her bathtub trying, for the sake of clean up later, to bleed into the tub and not on her floor. A knife wound on her side that she had to bend awkwardly to access and a needle with no thread clutched in her blood slicked hands. The blow to the head she had received exacerbating the lightheadedness from her blood loss. However, a last ditch effort to thread the needle was successful and she gave a quiet woop before having to steady herself, clutching the tub tightly with her free hand.

"Easy does it. I don't think Frank tips himself out of the tub every time he stitches himself up." The image made her giggle before she hissed, starting the first stitch.

--

Frank seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to Karen Page and trouble. He was working on cleaning his arsenal when he got that itch, an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. That's how he found himself at her door, getting ready to knock when he saw the smear of blood on the door handle. It wasn't a small amount, it looked as though a hand had been completely soaked with blood when it gripped the handle.

Cursing, he pushed the unlocked door open, his gun in hand. He scanned the room with the proficiency of a soldier before looking down and seeing the drips of blood, a morbid trail to the small bathroom of her apartment. Fear gripped his heart. It was too much blood. He didn't let the panic take over, still watching for potential threats and only once he had cleared the apartment did he enter the bathroom.

That's where he found her, painting her bathroom with her own blood. Her beautiful blonde hair was matted with a mix of dark red and fresh bright red at the temple. She was in a pair of jeans that she had opened the button on and a bra, her shirt discarded by the door. One small capable hand gripped the side of the tub while the other was braced against the shower wall, still holding a needle. She was slumped awkwardly and when Frank got to her side in a rush, he realized she was just barely conscious.

"Goddamn it Page. What the hell did you get into now?" He tried to sound scathing but he's pretty sure it came out softer and more panicked than he had intended. She gave a slight jump, her delicate brows coming together as she looked at him fuzzily, as if she couldn't decide if he was actually there.

Her voice was thick and quiet, "Frank?" He moved quickly, taking the needle out of her hand and dropping to his knees to inspect the wound on her side. It was deep, thankfully not deep enough to hit any organs but enough to bleed excessively.

She had managed to get several stitches in but still had several more to go. His voice was rough with restrained rage when he answered her, "Yeah, it's me. Want to tell me why you are bleedin' out in your bathroom?" Her eyes closed as he pushed the needle through her skin. He let the anger drain away all at once. He could be angry after, feed his bloodlust later. He needed to focus now. Putting as much authority into his voice as he could muster, Frank ordered, "Eyes open, Page." When she didn't comply he spoke louder, "Karen. Open. Your. Eyes." She did, sluggishly, turning her head to look down at him.

"Why are you in my bathroom?" Her voice confused but she followed his hands as he pulled another stitch through.

"See my previous statement about you bleedin' out in your bathroom." He grabbed some gauze from the open first aid kit and used it to dab away the blood that was now sluggishly seeping from the remaining open wound. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"Uh...someone hit me in the head pretty good with something. I'm not sure but I think I might have gotten a broken finger somewhere along the way too." She waved the hand closest to him around almost drunkenly and, sure enough, her pinky was at an odd angle. Snipping the string on the last stitch, Frank cleaned it up and smeared salve over it before putting a bandage in place.

He stood, ignoring the protest in his knees to look at her temple. Karen's large blue eyes followed him as he stood which nearly caused her to tip over the side. Frank had both hands on her quickly to steady her, raising an eyebrow when she let out a small laugh. Even in her disoriented state she must have sensed his look because she simply stated, "That's not the first time that has almost happened tonight."

There was a sizable bump on her temple just inside the hairline and a gash to go along with it. This one, thankfully, didn't look like it would need stitches and had stopped bleeding on its own. Carefully, Frank used fresh gauze to clean away dried and crusted blood before prodding gently at the area to check her skull for cracks. Karen hissed and made an unsavory comment about his lineage.

Despite himself, Frank let out a bark of laughter, "Now, now Page. That kind of abuse and I may have to take my nursing skills and go." He wouldn't dream of it. Lord knows how often she had dealt with his cranky ass, stopping by for help patching himself up. Bleeding all over this very bathroom. Hell, he considered it a privilege to be verbally abused by Karen Page.

Guilt twisted in his guts though when she grasped his hand, broken pinky and all and whispered quietly, "Please don't go." She wasn't looking directly at him but he could see the pain and grim acceptance she always had in her eyes when he made himself walk away.

Christ, he was an asshole. He should stay away for good but instead he keeps coming back, reopening their shared wounds every time he turns around and leaves again.

"Hey," he spoke quietly, his voice full of gravel. He rested a blood covered hand on her cheek before setting his forehead gently against hers, "I'm not going anywhere, yeah?"

A few small tears seeped from the corners of her eyes before he felt her give a slight nod. Giving his own nod, he set back to work. Looking over the rest of her, head, torso, arms and legs he didn't see any more injuries. That meant it was time to reset her pinky.

He switched back to business, feeling around the digit to sort out the best way to set it. "Alright Karen, I'm going to reset this finger. I'm gonna count, okay? On three. One..." He snapped it back in place as he said two, making her curse loudly. He showed up often enough with dislocated and broken fingers that there were splinting materials in the first aid kit as well. However, before he did that he wanted to get her cleaned up a bit.

Frank had her lifted from the edge of the tub and had her sitting on the toilet before Karen could register so she just sat there dazedly as he ran a shallow bath. When he turned back, she was still unsteady but he could see some of her usual alertness returning. He realized that the next step would be getting her clothes off and suddenly his handle on the situation slipped a bit. She needed to be cleaned up, less of a chance of infection and she would just feel better not being covered in blood and grime.

Frank had always been very careful about keeping that distance between them. Hell, they held so much intimacy between them without getting physical he was afraid of what would happen if those barriers were gone. He was terrified he wouldn't be able to make himself walk away after that.

This is not the time to be a brooding asshole, just help her get cleaned up idiot. She's your patient. Just another soldier needing some first aid. He told himself a lot of things to rationalize his thoughts when he was around Karen Page.

His voice was rough when he finally spoke, "We uh...need to get you cleaned up." Karen blinked at him owlishly for a moment before she reached the arm with all five working fingers behind her to unclasp the bra and let it fall to the bathroom floor. Frank was frozen in place for a second before mentally slapping himself into action. She had attempted to pull her jeans down but they were tight and blood loss had left her weak and uncoordinated.

Frank knelt again, this time in front of her and rested his hands on her waist, over her smaller hands. He couldn't seem to find the words but she read the question in his eyes. Even with a head wound she never missed anything with him.

Her voice was quiet as she rested a careful hand on his cheek, "It's okay Frank. It's not exactly how I imagined it would happen but it's okay." If he hadn't been so gobsmacked by that statement he would have laughed at how she managed to become even paler, despite blood loss, at her statement.

He did manage a small smirk, "Thought about it, have you Ms. Page?" Before he could stop himself he continued, "Yeah it's not how I would have hoped either." Fuck. He really hopes she didn't catch that.

He kept careful eyes on the bathroom tiles as he peeled the denim from her legs, taking her underwear with them. "Alright, stand up, real easy. I'll help you in." Karen stood, a touch too quickly and swayed unsteadily at her full height. Frank placed steadying hands on her, gaze involuntarily trailing down her body to assess potential injury from the movement.

He was struck dumb. Frank knew he shouldn't be ogling her in such a state but goddamn she was beautiful. The blood splashed across her body a stark contrast to her beautiful pale skin. Her long, graceful legs standing her at equal height to him, her long blonde hair laying over straight shoulders and determination in her crystal blue eyes. She looked like a valkyrie, straight from the battlefield, standing tall and proud before him. Karen Page was a survivor, a warrior. It's no wonder he couldn't stay away from her.

Before he did something stupid, like tell her she was most incredibly thing he had ever seen, he helped her lower herself into the tub. With a clean washcloth he began gingerly wiping the blood from her face before moving down her body. Carefully removing every bit of grime he saw. He placed another cloth over her bandaged side to keep the gauze from getting wet but he knew it was going to have to be changed either way. Once he was satisfied he'd removed the dirt and blood from her body he shifted his focus to her hair.

Thankfully her showerhead was detachable, so he drained the tub, pulling the showerhead down to wet her hair. Karen was pliable in his hands, shifting at gentle nudges or instructions from him. Her unwavering trust in him always astounded Frank. He didn't feel like he deserved it but she always offered it, no questions asked.

Eventually he had worked the last of the blood from her hair, shampooing it quickly before shutting the water off and pulling a large towel from the rack. Karen managed to look both rejuvenated and completely exhausted. He helped her stand, wrapping the towel around her shoulders.

"Can you dry yourself while I go get you some clean clothes?" When she gave a nod, Frank waited for just a moment to assess how steady she was on her feet. She was shaky but he wouldn't be gone long. He went straight to the drawer in her bedroom he knew she kept her sleeping clothes, wondering for only a moment when he became comfortable enough in Karen's apartment to know where she kept her things.

She had managed to dry herself for the most part but he could tell the effort had sapped what little energy she had left. Frank helped her dress as quickly as he could, careful of her injuries, rewrapping her side with a fresh bandage before sliding the shirt over her head.

Without preamble, he had an arm under her legs, the other supporting her shoulders as he bridal carried her to her bedroom. She made a noise in the back of her throat in protest. Good, she was coming back to herself little by little.

Frank was glad he had the foresight to pull back her covers when he came in for her pajamas because he was able to lay her down easily, pulling the covers back over her. Karen snagged his hand, meeting his eyes clearly for the first time that night.

Her voice was exhausted and quiet, "Thank you Frank. I'm sorry you had to do all this."

Frank didn't need a lot of things but he definitely never needed gratitude from her, he most certainly didn't deserve it, "Don't mention it. You've put me back together enough times I think I owe you this." He didn't mention that he would walk through Hell to get her bag for her if she asked him to. "Just get some rest."

She didn't let go of his hand, "Will you stay?"

He gave her hand a light squeeze, mindful of her splinted finger, "I'm not goin' anywhere. Rest."

"I mean will you stay in here with me?" Her voice was even quieter, like she felt she was asking too much of him. His brain screamed at him that he shouldn't do this, he would be closing that distance even more, succumbing to his weakness for her. His body, the traitorous prick it was, had already sat on the corner of the bed to strip off his boots and socks. The gun he had tucked in the back of his waistband rested on the nightstand by the opposite side of the bed and his shirt draped over the footboard. He slid in next to her with his pants still on. They were damp from helping her bathe but he didn't mind.

She rolled, looking at him with tired eyes, he saw the aching question in them as he tucked some hair behind her ear, "I'll be here when you wake up. You can tell me how you got in this shape in the morning." His voice was gruff and he found he was tired as well as the adrenaline drained from him.

Karen gave him the sweetest smile, a mix of relief, gratitude, affection and something so profound he couldn't bring himself to name it. But it made his heart ache in the most terrifying and exhilarating way. Who knew the Punisher could be brought to his knees with a pretty smile from a beautiful blonde. Of course he knew that not just any pretty blonde would do.

"Yeah, yeah, don't think being cute will keep you from telling me everything tomorrow." He tried to hide the tightness in his throat by pulling her flush against him, mindful of her injuries. She huffed out a laugh and it sounded like she attempted a reply but it turned into a light snore before she could finish.

Frank lay completely still, letting the weight of her head on his shoulder ground him. He thought back to a time several months ago when he was lying in a hospital bed and Karen held his hand. A time when he pushed her away with what little strength he had left. A time when he told her he didn't want to find someone else to love.

As he lay there with her pressed against him, her breath sliding over his collarbone, reaffirming her life to him, Frank heard his own words echoing around in his head, 'I don't want to.' He vividly remembers the flash of pain and defeat on her face before it turned into frustration. He was good at letting her down. But she believed him, because Frank didn't lie to her. She was very clear that was something she appreciated most, honesty. Of course, the whole gesture was wasted when a couple of months later they crossed paths again, and just as it always happens with them, they stayed in each other's orbit.

What Karen didn't know is that, while he absolutely did not lie to her, Frank was proficient at lying to himself. He told himself he didn't want to but lying here with her curled around him shook Frank to his core. That distance he so carefully crafted between them had disintegrated in a single blood soaked night and what he was going to do with that knowledge, he had no idea.

---

Frank woke to a deep ache in his shoulder, his arm asleep and Karen stirring awake beside him with a groan. He had slept fitfully, waking up periodically to check on Karen. He had enough concussions in his life to know how serious they could be so it wasn't until the first rays of light started to come in through the window did he finally fall into a deeper sleep.

With concentrated effort, Frank pulled his arm gently from under her and made his way to the bathroom. He was back in a matter of minutes holding a couple of tylenol and a large glass of water. Karen was squinting in the morning light, she took the glass of water and watched as Frank made his way back around the bed to lay on top of the covers.

She placed the medication carefully on her tongue before downing half of the water. Her voice was hoarse when she spoke, "Did you sleep in jeans the whole night?"

Frank raised an eyebrow at her as he laid back reaching an arm over his head to bury it under the pillow. He did his best to ignore the liquid hot gaze Karen trailed over his bare torso before he answered, "Maybe I like sleeping in denim." He didn't but if he woke up with/ended up with a hard on while in bed with her, it would be much easier to hide with jeans on. Besides, the hot look she had just given him paired with her bed head and flimsy tank top, he had made the right choice.

Karen gave a hard scoff but cut it off quickly with a wince as she sat up against the headboard. She took assessment of her own body, feeling gingerly around the cut on her temple, lifting her shirt to prod gently at the bandage there and finally looked over her splinted pinky. Finally she said tiredly, "I feel like someone tossed me off a building, my everything aches."

That reminded Frank that he had not yet gotten an explanation out of her as to what happened the night before. "What did happen Karen?" Her eyes shifted away from his quickly. Frank was having none of it, he leaned down to catch her eyes and looked at her expectantly.

With a sigh, Karen rubbed a hand over her face. Her voice was steady as she recounted her evening. "I went to a factory on the east end for a case we are working on. It's a clothing factory and one of the workers came to Nelson, Murdock and Page to file an unsafe work environment lawsuit. He had been injured due to improper maintenance on the machinery. So I went down last week to ask some questions for the case." She gave him a rueful smile, "They weren't exactly happy to see me. Wouldn't even let me in the door and had some choice words for me as a I left. So of course, I went back last night to see what they were hiding."

Frank clicked his tongue but didn't comment. Karen eyed him irritably before continuing, "I knew there was something else going on. They reacted too strongly for it simply to be negligence on machinery maintenance so I spoke to one of the night guards and convinced him to let in to look around a bit."

Frank was drawn in as he always was when Karen talked about a case she was working on. Her eyes always lit up with determined fire and her passion rekindled a little bit of his dead soul as she filled him in on the details.

"I was looking for the maintenance records when I came across a file that listed very generic products, something that this particular factory shouldn't be dealing with, so I went to the storage facility to check it out." The way she paused to take a drink of water told him he probably wasn't going to like this next bit. "When I got there, there were firearms everywhere. I mean, some big money, definitely not legal firearms. I took a few pictures and was about to leave when, uh..when someone grabbed me."

Frank was scowling, he knew he was but it didn't slow her down, "One of them hit me pretty hard," she gestured loosely to her temple, "I think it was a billy club or something. I managed to get away from him but the guard that let me in was at the door waiting." Now she was scowling, "Dickhead. I pulled out my gun but they managed to grab me again. Somewhere in the struggle I got my pinky caught. I was kinda out of it from where they hit me but I'm pretty sure I winged one of them with a bullet which made everybody take a step back. That gave me enough time to book it out of there. I guess adrenaline kept me moving for the most part cause I was halfway back here when I realized I had been stabbed. I didn't realize how bad it was when I decided to patch it up myself, it was hard to check while I was driving." She looked like she had more to say but paused when she looked at his face.

Before she could continue he said roughly, "You know, if you knew it was something suspicious you should have given it to Red. Or me. We could have looked into it."

The glare she set upon him was so fierce it made his breath catch. He knew he was going to regret that statement but, god, that look was exhilarating. Her voice was sharp, "I was already there, I could handle it. I can take care of myself Frank."

He knows she can, he never made the mistake of underestimating Karen Page. So many often did, among them was a dead man and another behind bars, hopefully for life. It didn't mean she couldn't ask for help. Damn stubborn woman.

Frank figured she was already fired up, why not stoke it, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Yeah, right, you really had it covered last night. The morning light really shows how well you took care of yourself, 31 stitches in your side, a broken finger and a busted up head. I'd say you really had it under control." He let a bit of his earlier anger bleed into his voice.

"That's really rich coming from you Frank. You've definitely never showed up here beat all to shit after running headlong into something." Her lip was drawn up in a snarl, a little color had risen to her cheeks, not that she had much to spare after last night but he was a master of bringing up her ire.

Frank shook his head sharply coming up to his elbow to face her more fully, his voice growing rough with intensity, "Yeah, Karen, I get beat to shit, that's my job, that's what I do. You-,"

"THIS is my job Frank! It's what I do!" She put heavy emphasis on 'I' to fire his words back at him, "I was there doing my job. I'm not going to sit behind a desk and pretend like stuff like this isn't happening around me! No, it's not safe but it has to be done and I am not going to be sorry about that." She was leaning towards him, breathing heavy, her full lips parted still as her clear blue eyes burned with hellfire.

Christ, this woman was going to be the death of him and what a sweet death it would be. Before he realized what he was doing, Frank had a hand around the back of her neck, burying his fingers in her long hair and cradling her skull. He jerked her towards him and covered her mouth with his, devouring her anger.

Karen didn't miss a beat, matching him at each turn of his head. He let out a rumbling groan when she gripped his deltoid to steady herself before nipping and licking at his bottom lip. Frank opened his mouth and then her sweet tongue was sliding over his and he was lost.

He surged forward, pushing her back as gently as he could, still conscious of her injuries. She made the most beautiful keening sound as he trailed down her jaw then her neck with dragging kisses and nips. Frank had half covered her with his own body when he reached the neckline of her tank top with his mouth. Resting his chin on her sternum he looked up at her, lips swollen and red, breathing hard and obvious desire in her eyes. He almost didn't recognize his own voice when he spoke, and he had to force the words out like they were jagged glass, "We should stop, you just got attacked, injuries are still too fresh."

Karen brought a soft hand to his face, giving him a small smile before sliding her hand up into his hair and giving it a rough tug, she had his undivided attention, her voice low with need and so sexy he now regretted opting to keep his jeans on, "We should most definitely not stop." To punctuate her point she pulled her tank top from under him before pulling it over her head. She winced when it stretched her stitches but gave him a challenging look.

He really should push back harder. Re-establish the distance he needed to have between them, let her know how bad of an idea this was but as he set his mouth to work on one of her perfect breasts he couldn't bring himself to do it. Frank nipped and sucked at one dark pink nipple roughly while his hand worked the other breast over, feeling the weight of it in his palm. Her hip was pressed into his erection and as she squirmed under his ministrations it caused him to let out a low moan into her skin.

She wasn't in any better shape, letting out gasping moans with every tug of his mouth, her hand still in his hair, dragging over his scalp slowly which only fed his growing need. He rocked his hips into her seeking the glorious friction it granted him before he released her nipple with a wet pop. He surveyed his handiwork for a moment, little red marks mottled her pale skin from his teeth and lips, he growled in satisfaction. Sure, maybe it made him caveman to be so turned on by leaving his mark on her but goddamn, she looked so good under him. Despite his alpha male bullshit, he knew he was only able to do this because she allowed it. Karen Page wasn't one to be owned or controlled but she allowed him this and it made him want her even more. If that was even possible.

Pulling the blanket off of her, he rolled himself between her legs. Frank laved a slow kiss to her sternum before slowly working his way down, looking up at her through his lashes as he went. She never broke eye contact with him but he saw and felt every breath hitch in her chest with every new kiss to her abdomen. He reached her waistline, the hands he had been slowly running down her sides stopped at the swell of her hips but his thumbs continued little circles, dipping below the elastic of her sweatpants from time to time.

"You sure about this?" He wanted to kick himself, he'd rather run himself through than stop now but if Karen didn't want to continue he would not hesitate to step away. "If you want me to stop, you just gotta say it, yeah?"

A little bit of mirth flared in her eyes behind the desire, "This is more how I imagined it happening."

Frank let out a low chuckle before sliding his large hands around her hips, under her waistband to firmly grip her ass. He drug his teeth over a now exposed hipbone making her moan prettily. As he began sliding her pants down he growled into her skin, "Yeah this is more what I was hoping for too."

He slid her pants past her feet, kicking his off in the process. He let out an almost imperceptible sigh when his cock sprung free of the confines of his pants. Karen had her bottom lip drawn prettily between her teeth as she took him in, when she realized he was commando she raised an eyebrow at him.

He settled back between her legs, running his tongue up her inner thigh before he mumbled into the crease where her leg met her body, "I had a bad feeling last night so I showered quick and threw on some clothes before I came over without really thinking." She let out a slow gasping laugh but it cut off to a sharp intake of air when he ran the flat of his tongue over the seam of her pussy.

"God Frank." The breathy way she said his name made his heart stutter in his chest before he began to devour her. She tasted as sweet as she smelled and it was a humbling experience, going down on Karen Page. One he never thought he would have the privilege of experiencing. He intended to take full advantage. He brought one of her long legs up over his shoulder pressing the calloused hand on that side into the flat of her stomach. He felt every flex and twitch in her abdomen move in time to the attention he was giving her clit.

He nipped and teased, listening to her moans amp up before slowly pushing a finger into her. Frank let out a rough moan when he felt how wet she was, he was nearly dizzy with the heady feel and taste of her. He added another finger, pumping both into her in a steady rhythm. Karen had a hand fisted in the hair at the crown of his head and when he glanced up at her he felt his ego swell a little. Among other things. Her head was thrown back against the pillow and she could only get gasping pleas past her lips.

"Please, I'm so close...fuck." Her hips were lifting to meet his strokes so Frank began curling his fingers, giving a few firm licks to her clit before sucking hard. He felt her body go rigid just as he felt her clamp down over his fingers and then she was falling apart around him. It was one of the most beautiful things he has ever seen. Frank rutted into the bed a few times just to relieve the incredible pressure that had built up.

Karen slowly came down with heaving breaths, she placed a gentle hand to her bandaged side but otherwise didn't show any pain. He didn't miss the gesture though. Climbing up her body, careful to keep most of his weight off her he gave her a languid kiss. She hummed appreciatively into his mouth, wrapping both hands around his neck. After a moment he pulled back, asking softly, "Are you alright? Didn't hurt your side did I?"

She prevented him from pulling away, keeping her hands locked around his neck before she rolled her hips into his arousal. Frank's eyes closed as he drew in a ragged breath. Karen's voice was low and sultry when she answered, "I'm way more than alright." She kissed and nipped at the underside of his jaw, raising her hips again until she felt him at her entrance.

Frank was wrecked, every muscle taut with hard won self control but before he could say anything, Karen cut him off, "If you ask me if I'm sure, I will personally shoot you with your own gun. Don't make me wait any longer than I already have Castle."

He settled his hips lower, bracing himself on his elbows while he ran a line of kisses from the juncture of her neck to the shell of her ear, "Yes, ma'am."

And then he was sinking into her. She keened in his ear as he fought hard to control the urge to slam into her. She was hot and slick, cinched around his dick like she was made just for him. "Fuck, Karen, you feel so goddamn good." Once he was fully seated against her he paused. She turned her head to look at him, her crystal blue holding his coffee brown eyes and it seemed like everything stood still.

There wouldn't be distance between them anymore, they both knew that. He was fooling himself if he thought he could walk away from her for good. A flurry of unsaid words passed between them in that gaze and after a moment Frank gently rested his forehead to hers, closing his eyes to the bliss as he began to move inside her.

In the beginning he wanted to slam into her, be rough, re-affirm that they were both still alive despite their attempts to the contrary. But suddenly the urgency was gone and he savored the slow drag of her walls against him. Their breaths mingled as they stayed close together, every once in a while he would twist his hips just right and she would gasp, rewarding him with a dragging kiss across his lips.

He felt the telltale tingling in his spine, Karen felt so exquisite around him, he knew he was going to be able to last much longer. Especially not with the way she was dragging her nails down his back so deliciously.

Frank sat up, pulling her hips to him. He braced her with one arm to, hopefully, keep from jostling her side too much and his other hand moved to run an urgent thumb over her clit. He snapped his hips forward.

"Frank. Fuck, do it again." Anything for her. He pulled out slowly before slamming back into place, his thumb keeping pace all the while. Another tantalizing pull and then he was bottomed out inside her again. Karen had been running her hand down his chest when her orgasm hit her. She gave a breathy scream, sinking her nails into his hips as he snapped them into her again.

Watching her come undone ruined the rest of Frank's control. He slammed into her in quick succession, leaning back over to press his head to hers. It was only a few strokes before he was spilling into her with a low growl, his hands buried in her hair on either side of her head, holding it in place. As he came down he realized her hands were gently stroking his jaw, her eyes were wet and her mouth was set in an adoring watery smile.

Frank's chest ached. He told himself he would never feel this again. That he didn't deserve it and he still believes he doesn't. But it didn't change the fact that he felt it.

Instead of telling her everything that was roiling around in his head, 'You're incredible. I don't deserve this and definitely don't deserve you. You're the strongest person I know. I fucking love you.', he gave her a long, slow kiss. Trying to put everything he was thinking into it, hoping she understood him with this like she did with everything else.

When he pulled back, her smile was no longer watery but firmly in place as she ran gentle fingers from his brow bone, down his cheek to cup his jaw. She understood him, she always did.

Frank helped her clean up in bed before checking her stitches, thankfully none pulled. He settled back in beside her. She nestled back against him much like last night this time resting a hand over his heart. He had his larger hand over hers, absentmindedly running a thumb over her wrist.

Her sleepy voice filtered up to him, she was still low on blood and the exertion of their activities left her exhausted. "You'd better be here when I wake up, Frank. And then you should feed me."

He laughed low in his chest, watching a slow smile form on her lips. His voice rumbled quietly, "I'll be here. I'll feed you if you're nice. Get some rest, Page." She huffed out a laugh before he breathing evened out.

As she slept, Frank prepared himself for the next row they would have before long. He had every intention of finding and killing the men who attacked her. He was still the Punisher after all and his retribution was swift. She probably already knew it was going to happen, the arguing about it was just a formality at this point.

Resting his cheek against her hair he began to doze off as well. Last night he wasn't sure what he was going to do with the knowledge that there was no more distance between them. Today, he knew he was going to use it to love Karen Page.

[fangirlxwritesx67]

Dancing Queen (Sam x Reader fluff)

For @awesomesusiebstuff . Hope you feel better soon hon! Sorry not sorry for 1000 words of fluffy crack

Today was a good day for spring cleaning. It wasn't often that you had a day off with the house to yourself in the middle of the week. When you did have such an unlikely occurrence, it wasn't usual that you would be motivated to clean. But today, you were. Maybe it was the rising spring weather giving you energy. Maybe it was the fact that you had one -okay, two- bloody marys for brunch at 1pm and now had a generally carefree and happy outlook on life. Maybe it was the soundtrack to Mamma Mia blasting through your record player, making you dance through your chores.

Whatever the reason, when the doorbell rang, you were actually almost disappointed to be pulled away. You were less disappointed when you opened the door to find two of the most beautiful men you had ever seen on your doorstep, dressed like- male strippers?! Both of them wore the unlikely combination of clerical collars and sleeveless shirts. Your mind instantly wandered to some of your favorite fantasies.

Both men were tall and handsome. The slightly less tall one (no one could call him short) was a classic American male pin-up, with a built body and chiseled face. The even taller one had a leaner build but was even more eye-catching. His oversized features and bright hazel eyes, topped with a mop of dark hair, made him almost beautiful.

"Whatever you're selling, I'm not buying it," you announced before they could get a word in. "And whatever religion you have, I don't want to join." Although that was not entirely true. If the taller, hotter one was taking confession... Your mind snapped back to the moment at hand.

"Oh, no," answered the less tall one with a sexy chuckle. "We're not selling anything. We're Dean and Sam, and we're Chippendales dancers. We just moved in- we are your new neighbors. "

He pouted his lips adorably. The taller one shook his head, tossing his dark hair, but a slow smile spread across his face. Dimples popped below his high cheekbones.

You heard the opening notes of "Super Trouper" start in the living room behind you. Whatever these adorable fools were up to, you didn't have time for it. You and your mop had a dance routine for this song.

"Sorry guys, I'm busy." The men nodded and turned to go. You closed the door, although not before letting your eyes linger on the view. Broad shoulders, narrow waists and nice butts, both of them- although you liked the taller one's lanky walk better.

Spring cleaning, at least for you, usually led to spring repainting. The next warm Saturday found you out front in your most ragged, paint-stained clothes, covering the front door in a coat of shiny dark green paint. You had the Mamma Mia soundtrack on again and were dancing a little while you worked.

You noticed but didn't really register movement on the sidewalk until one of your new neighbors strolled up. It was the taller one.

"Hi," he said simply, his hands tucked in his jean pockets in an easy gesture.

"Hi," you answered, "Sam or Dean, whichever one you are."

He grinned and pushed his floppy hair back from his face with one big hand.

"I'm Sam. Dean is my brother."

You looked at him skeptically.

"And you're male strippers, and that's how you decided to introduce yourself to your neighbors?"

Sam laughed, a laugh that started as almost a giggle and quickly turned to full body, gasping amusement.

"Wow," he said, "So sassy! Really, we're FBI agents but that was the field cover they sent us in with."

That story was as believable as the last one, and you just shook your head.

"Hey," said Sam. He took a step closer to you. A mischievous twinkle shone in his deep hazel eyes. "I could pass as a dancer. Look."

The unmistakable starting notes of "Dancing Queen" were drifting out your front door. Sam began to move his body in a rolling rythmn and lifted the hem of his thin grey t-shirt, flashing you a glimpse of tanned, toned abs. With a saucy glance, he pivoted on one heel to face away from you. He rocked from side to side, letting his hips and long legs carry him. His high, round ass gyrated enticingly, and you felt yourself flush. He was the best show you had seen in a long time!

You watched for far too long, enjoying his sexy movements too much to care who might see.

"That's enough!" You gasped finally, "Sam, or whoever you are. What do you want?!"

Sam turned towards you, an irresistible smile lighting his beautiful face. He had deep dimples under his high cheekbones. The sun lit up flecks of gold in his blue-green eyes.

"I saw you painting," he said. "It looked like you could use company."

You hesitated, unsure what ulterior motives your new neighbor may have.

"Look," said Sam after a moment, "It's simple. I can reach the high parts, and we can talk while we paint."

You and Sam spent the afternoon painting in the new and hopeful spring sun. You talked and laughed, and at some point as he reached for a high corner, his arm curled around your shoulder. You would never admit it, but you leaned into him just a bit. His body was warm and firm against yours.

More sounds of Mamma Mia played from inside the house.

"If you change your mind I'm the first in line

Honey I'm still free, Take a chance on me

If you need me let me know, Gonna be around..."

You turned to face Sam and saw that he was mouthing the words as he painted, his hips rocking along in time to the music. You threw your arms around his broad shoulders and ran your hands up through his long dark hair. He slipped strong arms around your waist and together, you danced.

[kimmycup]

"Talk."

He is met with silence and if the media portrayal is to be believed that's not Stark's natural state.

"Well?"

The guy's face changes, expression still betraying his fear but strange determination underlying it all. He wonders if that's just the man or if it has something to do with the fact he was missing for three months and eventually ended up in someone's car boot. Sounds like quite a journey.

"Whatever you want to know, you're not getting it from me."

Bucky sighs

"Look--"

And suddenly, it's like the floodgates open.

"Listen, if you were just hired to kill me, I am pretty sure I can pay you more than they did. Maybe. Okay, I'm not sure but... Fuck. I don't know how but I can find a way to make it worthmhmmm!"

Bucky just plasters the tape back on him and crouches down to his level.

"I am not here to kill you. I am not working with them at all whoever they are. I'm just the transporter. All I know is I've seen you on TV and you seem like an asshole but when I signed up for this job I expected another package with a stolen painting, not a person. So. I'm willing to listen to your version of how you ended up in my car boot, and then I can either untie you or throw you back in that trunk and send you off to the highest bidder. I'm gonna let you decide which one, but you should know I prefer honesty to bribery."

Stark looks a bit scared, or maybe shaken, in a different way, but he nods, though he doesn't speak up immediately when Bucky ungags him.

"Listen, if it has to do with the whole Afghanistan thing, I don't need the full recount--"

"But that's the reason. The whole Afghanistan thing. I saw you check out my chest, shiny thing, isn't it? It's a miniature reactor, clean, efficient energy, and it's powering an electromagnet keeping me alive because there's shrapnel from a missile I designed stuck on its way to my heart. I designed it. And produced it, in a cave, and then used it to power high tech metal armour to get away. And I came back, to the only father figure I had, and I showed it to him, and he stole both a spare and that armour and auctioned me off after declaring me dead. Because when I came back I told him that I want to withdraw Stark Industries from weapons production."

Bucky looks at him, eyes masked in a way Bucky thinks is characteristic of people who spend their life in the eye of the public, but there's pain and resignation under that mask.

He sighs and reaches to untie him.

You know what I want? A WinterIron Transporter AU.