#like it's far from intentional but that's the thing you've got a kid and you've got to think past that intention to how it may hurt them

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

Fantastic chapter like always and absolutely adorable.

I love how you expand so much on the characters even the dead ones in this fic in a way that makes them so present in the narrative. The way this makes Frank just completely absorbed by his family constantly while still building them as real people independent to him is great. Just the little details about Maria this chapter and how they relate to Matt is absolutely fantastic

The situation between Peter and Frank needed to blow up spectacularly before getting resolved I should have known that something would actually blow up.

The way you showed the Spidey sense in action through Franks pov was really good it's my favorite Spidey power and really fun to see in action.

Poor Peter though. I hope that once the situation gets resolved he can have a good cry about everything ever.

Also I really want Tony to get punched in the face. Just a small punch! Just once! But Jesus Christ the way he handled this situation has been so bad for Peter I am so angry at him. I know he's dealing with something behind the scenes bit still he needs to think about the impact this all has on Peter it's so bleak and isolating

i simply love explosions and add them in to everything i can. they're the spice of life. do not have the police investigate me i am so so normal about fire

Maria Castle is alive in my head and I love her. the version that lives in my head simply loves Matt. He's the dumbass little brother she's always wanted. He enchants her with his poor decision making and emotional unavailability. When he comes over she insists on throwing herself in his arms and he twirls her around because it annoys frank and they're inherently both assholes. The Maria in my head will never be showcased unless i end up pushing my Castle Family Agenda in earnest, but I will reference her as she exists in my head in works where she's still dead. I love her your honor.

The reaction to tony in kintsugi continues to be hilarious to me because kintsugi partially exists because I didn't see this reaction post-CW. Like the reaction I saw was mostly hardcore Iron Dad and i just didn't really see or hear a lot of commentary about how he handled the time between CW and Homecoming. And in kintsugi I changed literally nothing about how Tony treated Peter in that time and people are soooo mad at him. It's kind of funny

[v4mp-re]

𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲

SUMMARY: When your childhood best friend Theodore Nott sleeps with you one night, your feelings for him over complicate the delicacy of the situation. ᴛʀᴏᴘᴇ: childhood bestfriend! Theodore Nott x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

T.W: Angst, mentions of lost of parental figure (mother), commitment issues, implications of sex, mentions of the word "porn", mentions of smoking, drinking and promiscuity, the word "fat" used with slight negative connotation, google translated Italian. ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀ: @cafekitsune

It was as if all hell broke loose.

Ever since you've been young, your memories have been stained with that of the presence of your best friend, Theodore Nott. Influential pureblood families had to stick together, that and it just so happened that your mothers were good friends. You were about 5 when news of his mother's death came around, still remembering the tear stained cheeks belonging to none other than him.

That was the only time you'd seen him cry before.

The two did everything together, from getting their Hogwarts acceptance letters to getting sorted into the same house and forming a friend group of their own.

The group worked as sort of a combination of both your close friend groups, yours consisting of Pansy and Astoria and his of Mattheo and Lorenzo. It was just the 6 of them for a while until Pansy introduced Draco, who brought Blaise with him, and eventually joined the group as well.

Things changed in 5th year.

What at first seemed like Theodore reconnecting with his mother's death and coming to terms with it, turned into smoking, obsessive drinking and even whoring around. It wasn't something you necessarily expected either, growing up, he was always that chubby kid that you'd befriend but always depised when it came his turn to sit on the swing. Now however, he was different. He had grown, obviously, but puberty laced with Mattheo's influence, shaped him into the man he is today. And as much as you hated to admit it, he was gorgeous.

Theodore Nott. The very boy you grew up with, was now this tall, rich, Italian pureblood, slytherin boy that every girl wanted to get with, far from the ''fat geeky kid'' he used to be.

So what else could he do other than to embrace it?He had never gotten this much attention before and it wasn't as if the girls of Hogwarts were all a pain to look at, plus, Mattheo had showed him enough porn to know what to do, right?

His inexperience wasn't known to you. Surely you thought he had slept with you with the intention of wanting to get together, afterall he was your bestfriend and you both knew each other practically your whole lives. So you took his drunken kiss as a confession, the way his hands slid into your hair, how his tongue slid itself into your mouth, down to the way he looked at you as you laid there bare for him for the first time.

You should have known better.

By the time you woke up, he was gone. His presence almost non existent, except for the faint smell of him still lingering in the air, the only indicator that what happened last night wasn't a wild dream of yours. You thought nothing much of it, getting ready when the sight of your skin littered with hickeys made you freeze. You weren't drunk but you weren't necessarily sober last night either, for it being both your first times, it surely didn't felt like it. Your bodies felt like they were made for each other, and in a way you were conviced you were too.

You got ready, making sure to cover up the bruises claiming your neck as you walked to the great hall. You had been friends long enough to know that Lorenzo's love for the school's food had rubbed off on the others as well. You knew exactly where to look.

Though the sight you were greeted with wasn't necessarily pleasant.

Sitting at where you usually did, was Daphne Greengrass, a gorgeous blonde slytherin that just so happened to be the same year as you guys. Theodore's arm drapped right across her shoulder.

Mattheo, whom was previously in a conversation with Theodore, spots you almost instantly. He smiles that charming grin he always carried, one that you grew to adore, before calling you over. Theodore doesn't even glance.

With your original seat currently occupied by a girl, of which none if them had ever talked to prior, you sat beside the spare spot near Mattheo, who immediately pulls you closer to him by your hips. A gesture you normally would pull away from, yet the sight of Theodore being so cozy with another girl after the night you too had together was a new kind of pain you wish you never knew.

The insistent giggles coming from Daphne felt like a knife getting plunged deeper and deeper into your chest, knowing that the reason for said giggles was the man beside her, so carelessly whispering in her ear as his hand played with her hair.

''You're awfully quiet.'' A voice that unmistakably belonged to no other than Lorenzo. His eyes ever so slightly flickering to the way Mattheo's hand was still snaked around your waist, in which his fingers were carefully drawing patterns against the fabric of your skirt.

''I'm just tired'' You spoke, a slight smile gracing your features though your words carried a certain innuendo to it, one only Theodore could pick up, one which he ignored so openly.

Mattheo's low chuckle unmistakable, his arms moving to wrap around your waist, head nuzzled in the spot between your neck and shoulder. His breath ghosting against the surface of your neck.

Your eyes flickered to Theo, who, would once immediately tell Mattheo off, now sat occupied with the pretty blonde. His eyes fixed on hers like she was the only person that mattered. The glimpses of the night prior, the way he looked at you, how he treated you with such care, now a fleeting memory.

You felt used. Like Theodore had taken advantage of your friendship together and used it as a cheap way to test out what he already knew. Toying with a lot more than you had let on.

It was then on that you decided to distance from the Italian, something he had barely noticed until he strolled into the potions classroom, after flirting with random girls throughout the whole duration of the morning, to an empty spot which you normally occupied.

It was abnormal to him, you were his potions partner, his seat mate that allowed him to copy off you on tests, the one person who could help him pass the class, yet there you were, sitting with Mattheo instead of him.

It wasn't as if finding a new seatmate was hard, almost immediately, a brunette ravenclaw sat beside him, her friends giggling from the seat behind her, but she wasn't you.

As the class went on, Theodore found himself looking your way. His eyes would linger on the way you ever so carefully measured the ingredients and placed them to the side, a gesture that his current partner didn't care to do. How you laughed when Mattheo so dropped the eye of newt in an attempt to flirt with you.

It infuriated Theodore, but god was he too stubborn to admit it.

The smell of alcohol reeked the common room, the blasting of the music through the speakers weighing heavily on the countless of sweaty, intoxicated teenagers present, all of which, unbothered by it.

Draco had thrown possibly the 4th party in the past 4 months, all of which, you had previously attended on Theodore's insistence. This time, it was on someone's insistence, though not his.

Heels clicking with every step, you weaved towards the familiar green leather couch situated in front of the fireplace. Spotting your usual friend group, all of which slightly drunk and possibly high.

Mattheo, ever the observant, spots you almost immediately.

''For a second there I thought you wouldn't show'' His voice laced with amusement, it was clear he had probably been drinking prior, the scent of alcohol lingering with every breath he took.

He doesn't await a response before wrapping his arm around your waist, an action that doesn't go unnoticed by Theodore Nott, who in turn, pushes off the slytherin girl who was previously seated on his lap, before abruptly standing up.

You knew better than to follow after him, that Theodore Nott was no longer any of your business, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't care about him anymore.

Moving out of Mattheo's grasp under the excuse of wanting a drink, you made your way to the one place you knew Theo would be.

Theodore knew you'd come after him, you always have. The clicking of your heels an echoing reminder of your fleeting friendship. The once obnoxiously loud music now muted by the glass of the common room balcony.

You knew he'd be there, he always was. "Why are you doing this to me?" He spoke, his gaze fixed on the moonlight that reflected off the black lake, now even darker. The only flicker of light coming from his lighter as he brings it to the cigarette hanging off his lips.

"Doing what Theodore?" You spoke, your tone unconsciously laced with irritation and an air of indifference to his dishriveled appearance.

He pulls the cigarette away from his mouth, letting out a trail of smoke in it's path.

"Cazzo. (fuck) You know what I mean! You and Mattheo! Mio Dio, mi sta facendo impazzire!" (My God, it's driving me crazy) He turns to face you and for the first time tonight, you catch a glimpse of his expression.

It's been years since you've seen Theodore Nott cry, and yet here he was.

He moves towards the lounge chair, sitting at the edge, cigarette long forgotten. His shoulders shake with the kind of sorrow that you've only ever saw once in your life, his face buried in his hands.

"È come se ti stessi perdendo." (It's like I'm losing you) He mumbles ever so slightly, looking up for the first time as his gaze catches yours.

You knew there was no turning back. With your resolved crumbling at the seams, you moved to sit beside him on the chair. "I can't lose you, né a Matteo, né a nessuno" (not to Mattheo, not to anyone)

His cheeks were tear-stained as he stared out toward the lake. The party music in the background had grown faint, almost as if the world itself had narrowed to just the two of you.

But you weren’t having it.

"This isn't fair. You can't just sleep with me and then act like nothing happened! You can't just toss me aside like I was nothing and then get mad when Mattheo suddenly takes interest in me!"

"I don't get why you're bringing up that night we slept together. non è stato un grosso problema." (it wasn't a big deal)

"It was a big deal!" Your voice cracked, the weight of your emotions pouring out with every word.

"And why’s that?!" he snapped back, his voice sharp and defensive, but there was something else there—something unspoken, trembling beneath his anger.

"Because I love you!" The confession tore from your chest like a wound finally bursting open, raw and unfiltered. For a moment, the world seemed to still, the air between you heavy with the gravity of what you’d just said.

He froze, his breath hitching as his eyes searched yours. You could see it—the flicker of vulnerability in the depths of his gaze, the way his jaw tightened as if trying to hold back a storm of emotions.

"You love me?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper now, as though the words were too fragile to say out loud.

"Yeah," your voice trembling but resolute. "I have loved you ever since first year, and it's killing me that you're pushing me away and acting like nothing happened!"

"Yeah, well, maybe I’m pushing you away because I don’t know how to stop myself from destroying everything good in my life!" he snapped, his voice breaking. He stood up abruptly, running a hand through his hair as he paced in frustration. "You think this is easy for me? You think I don’t hate myself every second for the way I treat you?"

"Then stop doing it!" you cried, standing as well, your voice trembling with anger and pain. "Stop acting like you’re some broken thing that can’t be fixed. I see you, Theo. I’ve always seen you. And you’re not broken—you’re scared. But so am I!"

He stopped pacing, his back to you, his shoulders tense. "You don’t understand," he muttered, his voice low.

"Then make me understand!" you pleaded, stepping closer, your heart hammering in your chest. "Tell me why it’s so hard for you to believe that I love you. I’ve seen the parts of you you’re too scared to show anyone else. And I’m still here, aren’t I?"

He let out a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of his own self-loathing was finally too much to carry. "I’m scared," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I’m scared of what happens if I let myself believe it—believe you. Because what if I lose you? What if I ruin it?"

"You’re already losing me," you said softly, tears slipping down your cheeks now. "Every time you push me away, every time you act like this—like we don’t matter—you’re losing me a little more."

For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze fixed on the ground. Then, slowly, he looked up, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

"I don’t want to lose you," he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his confession.

"Then stop pushing me away," you pleaded, taking another step closer. "Stop pretending you don’t feel this too."

He hesitated, his lips parting as if to argue, but then he closed the distance between you in one swift, desperate motion. His arms wrapped around you tightly, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let himself break in your embrace.

"I’m sorry," he murmured against your shoulder, his voice muffled but filled with raw sincerity. "I’m so sorry."

And as you held him, feeling the tension slowly leave his body, you knew that this was the beginning—not an easy one, but one where neither of you would have to carry the weight alone anymore.

[fuxuannie]

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ  𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢 𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 | kenji sato x gender neutral reader

love mail     —      ヽ(o´3`o)ﾉ full & utter credit to @coralwitchsheep in support of their preview of a kenji x reader series they're starting! (i'd suggest reading theirs first before reading this for context) i'm inlove w the idea and can't wait to read the next parts o(T□T)o ♡♡ this is my own spin on it, so to cut it short — likely not canon events! i js wanted to make a oneshot w relatively same concept,, if this does okay maybe part two. maybe ! (this is kinda long 🙁)

︰꒱꒱ "THAT WENT WELL." you grumbled, entering your home with a frustrated sigh. what kind of guy runs away from an interview? all you asked was what could've possibly made him want to start from the beginning by coming back to japan. sure, maybe you startled him with your presence after 20 years, but come on. can't he be a little more professional? and maybe a little more welcoming to his best friend once upon a time?

as you snuggled into the comfort of your couch, you wanted to binge watch a few movies that you've been putting off.. but work called. you had to check your email incase any of your private interview bookings were accepted, or if the head journalist had yet another task for you. and if so, then to your dismay you'd have to figure out bookings and schedule.. and you should've been overjoyed to not receive any new ones, but there was one unopened email. curiously, you click on it — and you pause. kenji sato, as in — the one that just ran off after a single question, kenji sato? how did he find your email.. something you'll have to figure out later, but continuing to scan the contents, it seems like he wanted to have a one on one interview, and everything had been planned in advanced. it's in a restaurant not far from your home, in fact.. it was your favorite one from when you were a kid. reading the restaurant name makes you smile a little, fond memories of kenji's family and yours going there together, but you quickly shake your head to focus, this was basically work — after all.

it was a dinner, he wanted to apologize for his dismissive attitude to you earlier that day and give you a private interview. the entire email honestly felt computer generated, if mina wrote it you wouldn't be surprised until you got to the end;

"please, (name), let's catch up. professional setting or not, that's up to you. i just need to see you."

now you had to admit, that felt...— you weren't sure what it felt like, but you felt something while reading that. your fingers swiftly type back a response, accepting the invitation, with no bad blood between them for the prior interaction. as you click send, your mind began to wander off to possible situations. after all, twenty years.. it's a significant amount of time, and people can change — you just hoped it wouldn't be the worst reunion in the world.

the following day passed like spring breeze, next thing you knew you were dressing up for the arranged meeting with kenji. unsure whether to be casual or business, you weren't even set onto whether you wanted to catch up, or catch a story. job or feelings? now that's a hard decision. in the end, you went for a mix of both, a casual business attire.

you wondered if it was intentional for kenji to pick a place so close to home, literally and figuratively; it was a 5 minute walk and it.. honestly means a lot to you. your family still visits there often, and there's not one day that they don't discuss how much more joyful things would be with the sato's to share a meal with you. you couldn't help but silently agree, even if you wanted to act like you hated kenji for leaving.

you thought it would be smart to be there 10 minutes earlier, but kenji seems to have beaten you. he hasn't noticed you coming in yet, however he seems nervous. he's talking with the elderly head chef, who could easily recognize professor sato's only son boy — catching up after all those years. his head moves to the door by coincidence, catching your gaze. you wave hello and he smiles, waving back.

"holy shit." kenji feels like the air from his lungs is stolen right out of him. you've grown so much, well — yes, of course, it has been years, but god he didn't think you'd still have that affect on him. even as kids, as teenagers, and now as an adult — he couldn't help but feel breathless at the sight of you.

"hi mr. sato." you'll start, sitting next to him and giving a friendly smile. he laughed, taking his shades off his face and resting them down onto the table. "you know you don't have to do that with me, use my name. it's not like we're strangers." you didn't expect that, and kenji could see that in your eyes — he almost regrets saying it the way he did, but your expression melts into a much more casual one. "alright, kenji."

his attitude felt different, honestly. the things you've read about him from articles, he's an egoist — completely full of himself, he just can't stop talking about his own achievements. so to sit right next to him, and to feel like you're a little kid again, just eating wirh your best friend.. it's weird.

the silence is suffocating, food sizzling on pans and fire burning were the only things being 'exchanged' between the two of you.

deciding to break the silence, you cleared your throat. "so.. how has life been in america?" you immediately regret it. now you'll have to listen to him boast about his wins, how happy he's been — how you haven't even crossed his mi— "lonely."

your racing thoughts came to a pause at the sound of his voice, weirdly vulnerable, — you unknowingly made it so easy for him. "it was lonely. sure, but i won't lie—" kenji chuckled, although it lacked the joyful emotion tied to such form of laughter, and instead — sorrow. "the spotlights great. winning awards and trophies, it's what i've wanted to do for years. but.."

his hand moves over to his face, and suddenly it's harder to keep eye contact with you. he leans back into his chair and scoffs, looking away. "i missed japan. i missed my family.. i — i missed you."

your mouth goes slightly agape in an 'o' shape. you suddenly fumble on any words you can think of, even in your own mind, you begin to stutter. "i'm—" you'll try to speak but it's like you have no mouth, nothing can describe how you feel at the moment, it's such a basic and simple arrangement of words, an 'i miss you', and yet — why do you feel like this? you resented him for not calling, you envied how happy he was through a tv screen, and you wished that he'd just.. come back. and he did. he was doing exactly what you had hoped for in the past 20 years but — "i.. i've watched your life through a screen. every game, every loss, anything that involved you. and for those years, it felt impossible to tell *anyone* we were best friends. once." the *once* hit kenji harder than you thought. "but i wished, like some child spotting a shooting star — that you'd call. and not those half assed ones, where it was really just our parents talking and they call us over to say hi to each other. i mean, like we used to."

"what do you mean?" "you know what i mean."

your mind feels nostalgic as you reminicse; "2AM, you'll be talking about some punk from school who gave you trouble. and how i'd promise i'll beat them up once mom and dad had enough money to visit." a pitiful sigh escaped your lips. "they never did."

"i just.. i never wanted to move on, kenji. i never wanted to stop waiting. but.. i didn't want to keep feeling like a dog at your door for you."

as clichè as it is to hug someone during a dramatic monologue, kenji felt like there was nothing else he could do. words were practically silence when actions could do much more for him. his arms wrapped around you tightly, and his face was buried into your shoulder. he wanted to explain, but there was so much to cover in so little time — and he honestly just wanted you to feel better at the moment. "i wish i had known this is how you felt all those years apart. and i wish that i could've done more, but shit happens and i—"

and it's even more clichè to return that hug, with just as much feeling. "i know. and let's just.. talk things out, yeah? i've got a free day tomorrow so.. i don't think i'll mind spending the night with you."

"reword please, you'd love to spend the night with me."

"don't flatter yourself too much before i change my mind."

"alright alright, let's just eat already."

[myrmica]

some loose thoughts on The Full Story of WORMHOLE: Minecraft’s Deadliest Exploit...

largely building on thoughts i had while watching it with my partner, and conversations i had on discord (shoutout will 75hearts irrealisms). i started writing notes in the s4 directory and it got away from me so it's a post now. disclaimer also that while i am very critical here, i still found the video interesting. the problems with it are interesting problems. second disclaimer that everything is about vitalasy (and princezam) forever.

the video is presented as The Full Story, the Truth, things spoke didn’t want to show during season 4 or in the videos he released about it then, because it would make him look too bad. he says this about it in a youtube comment, before it's released:

the first hour or so of this video succeeds incredibly in being what he says it’s going to be; you get information we’ve never heard before about the dupe war and spoke’s thought processes therein. you get this, the best moment of the entire video:

[51:00 - 54:40] Spoke: I'm not kidding when I say this, but this was probably the angriest I've ever been while playing minecraft. Not only was I so dumbfounded that I really just sat there popping totems, but after I died I was dead silent for 15 minutes. Except for the few times I practiced the lies I would have to tell Mapicc and Zam, to somehow save this plan. [Video cuts to that recording of Spoke talking to himself after he respawns. He wanders around the post-dupe-war wasteland, no items in his inventory.] Spoke: What was the thought process? [cut] I just wanna ask, what—[cut] I'm really curious… about the thought process of this one. [cut] Come here for a second—[cut] So here's the first issue. [cut] Here's the problem I see with this thinking. [cut] I thought you were very well aware of the intentions. [cut] there's a difference between... and prolonging—[cut]—I need to keep going with the plan. I want to get back to the vault. [cut back to voiceover] Spoke: I needed a way to somehow gain their trust back and keep the vault safe, so I wouldn't be banned. At first I thought about telling them my plan to trick Parrot into doing the exploit, but I already had too much on the line to risk something like that. The second idea was telling them the lie I told Parrot, about doing this for the NPPP, but that would just confirm their beliefs and they would for sure pocket the duped items. The only idea I had left was to tell them... I scripted this. A couple months before these events, I ran a staged roleplay server called Unstable, and I would invite these guys on for the scripted recordings. So I already had that stigma with me, and I assumed if I just told them I was helping the enemy find the vault for content, that I learned my lesson or something, they would forgive me and let me back. I knew from there I just had to go on with the plan in a different way, so I joined a call with them. But I didn't realize how bad I truly messed up. [cut to that call] Spoke: So what's the plan? Mapicc: Spoke, you—[exhales]—you've given us so many reasons not to trust you. Spoke: Which is? Mapicc: You speak ominously, you have a bad record, you're—you were in contact with Parrot the entire time. Vortex called me and said there are at least three or four double agents that are on Team Awesome right now, that are actually on Parrot's side. Spoke: Christ. You guys—okay, okay, i'm just gonna be completely clean, bro. Parrot's a double agent on APO. Parrot is an obvious double agent on APO. But he's not a double agent in content, guys. He's a double agent to make the story better. I literally have not told them the base coords to make this more interesting. Mapicc: The base is gone, Spoke. Spoke: YOU BLEW IT UP? Mapicc: we took— Spoke: WHAT THE--WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? Mapicc: We took a ridiculous amount of money and we're hiding far away, Spoke. Spoke: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? WHY. [cut to narration] Spoke: There was literally no point in me continuing this lie, since the vault was confirmed to be gone. But, what you're about to see is what no content creator should do on any SMP. And despite me using quote-unquote content and entertainment against them to get my way, all I really did was ruin their videos.

my whole point in the barrier blocks essay about season 4 was that lifesteal’s storytelling is competitive. and it is something weaponized on screen in season 4 plenty of times, but it’s never so blatant as this. It’s never admitted like this. Spoke outright saying, “i fucked everyone else over so i could get my video.” I never considered that the scripting thing might be a flat out lie like this. even though i knew spoke was ultimately doing all of that as part of the plan to get parrot in position for wormhole, and even though i came to the conclusion that dupe war couldn’t really have been “scripted” in a way that mattered even without knowing that spoke was lying about this, because WHY would you LIE ABOUT THIS?

It’s kind of beautiful. the perfect piece of information about season 4 to tie it all up in a bow.

and it’s incredible for being this albeit brief, raw glimpse into spoke’s mind. a completely off camera moment that nobody ever would have seen. something you never, ever get from spoke, who rarely streams, and refuses to let other players see inside of his head, or even have real conversations with him in season 4. whose power is predicated on maintaining that exact distance. because it all falls apart if you get to hear how he feels underneath it all, if you get to see the way everything he does in season 4 is nothing but madly improvising lie after lie, trying to keep the tower he’s built intact even as it is constantly at risk of falling out from under him. It’s spoke making himself for once truly vulnerable, truly seen.

but… AFTER this point, the video largely loses this undercurrent of emotional vulnerability that sells the whole thing’s premise. It doesn’t matter if spoke is lying about minutiae in that first part of the video, fudging dates and summarizing events, because the emotional honesty matters so much more. but a lot of the threads spoke presents to us in the beginning of the video never feel like they actually get delivered on, and this window into his mind is closed to us again. It feels like he falls back into the motions of just, making a lifesteal video, making a minecraft youtube video. this moment with the dupe war feels like something legitimately special and unique, precisely because of that element of vulnerability. It’s probably the closest a lifesteal video has ever come to capturing the parts of lifesteal that i love, the things you only really get on stream where it’s much harder to keep up the sort of powerplays spoke relies on.

unfortunately you are hardwired to make youtube videos and there is no saving you. I would wager there are two full hours of reused footage that adds basically nothing. and it’s the worst deflationary effect i’ve ever seen. the tension builds to this crazy height and then it’s just gone and you’re watching, dr. donut vip day. poopies the endermite nonsense. nothing against poopies the endermite nonsense, but you show me all of that and then you expect me to watch you fuck around with minecraft mobs for 40 minutes straight?

and just as a side note, it’s edited in the most confusing way possible. i think this was heightened for me because i watched it with my partner who isn’t quite as into lifesteal as i am, but this video is comprised of: 1) brand new footage and new voiceovers by spoke explaining his current feelings/reflections on what happened then, 2) old stream footage, and 3) footage from old videos that spoke previously uploaded, including the editing choices from those old videos. none of these things are ever flagged or indicated to the viewer, you have no real way of knowing which is which unless you’ve seen all of those old streams and videos. and this carries over into the way spoke presents information to you, because it’s still largely done in the rapid-fire information summary, telling instead of showing style that plagues these videos. i don’t know how you are expected to absorb any information from this narration style if you don’t already know the minute details of everything that happened in season 4. which i do, so it was fine, just stylistically puzzling on several levels.

which brings us to…. an elephant in the room. the thing left out of what is billed as the full truth. vitalasy is not part of this video. spoke’s relationship with the other exploiters at large is never really dwelled on or explored, even when ash does appear on screen relatively frequently, but there is not a single clip of vitalasy speaking in this video. we get a couple screenshots of his discord messages, only on screen for seconds, a few of which appear to be dated from a different day than spoke says they are. he’s mentioned about as infrequently as you could possibly manage to discuss season 4, let alone wormhole, without vitalasy. who we know spoke was working with in some capacity throughout the full duration of these events, who appears both in the beginning of this video as spoke establishes where the exploit came from, and in the end, when spoke jumps into the void and ops vitalasy in the same moment.

there are all of these scenes where the bedrock prison is there but never explained, or someone (parrot in one of the last pivotal conversations spoke has with him in the video) is holding an eclipse shield, and it all makes him so overwhelmingly present in his absence. spoke seems to realize how glaring it feels, because he addresses it:

[3:25:17 - 3:25:34] Spoke: I told Ash I would give him whatever item he wanted, except operator. Even though he was bummed out, he said it was fine. Vitalasy on the other hand wasn't too happy. There was some more stuff between us that I had to cut out since this video is already too long, but long story short Vitalasy felt entitled to it because he found the glitch, which does make sense. However, the risk of another player having admin was too much, and I declined.

every other time spoke mentions vitalasy, it’s with this same combination of avoidance and active dismissal. I keep coming back to that scene at the end; “i gave vitalasy op” and no further acknowledgement. what do you mean more happened between you but you’re not going to show us, and in everything we do get it feels like nothing at all has changed since season 4, you’re still portraying him in the exact same way he was portrayed then? framing it as the full truth, but there’s still this central point you’re taking great pains to talk around. the video is too long. the video is already four hours, how much worse could it get? what about all of that reused footage? that you could cut, and the pacing of the video would be better for it? am I really supposed to believe that’s why you made that decision?

and ultimately this plays into why the video doesn’t really work for me past that hour-or-so mark. because spoke isn’t actually being honest. past that point, things are glossed over or hidden the same way they would be in any lifesteal video.

maybe part of this is the fact that the dupe war stuff is new information to me where what was streamed at the end of season 4 isn't, even if it was cut out of the youtube videos, but i really don’t think it’s just that. It’s in the pacing of the video, what’s prioritized and what isn’t, the amount of time and dramatic attention given to these final moments.

In the scene towards the end where spoke monologues to parrot, after he tricks parrot into giving him admin, parrot doesn't say anything. It’s just spoke talking at him, and then the scene ends without parrot getting a word in edgewise. you get that little moment between them before spoke puts on pants and jumps into the void, but that's still parrot responding to spoke's lie, not to the truth. even if you don't get some sort of conclusion or elaboration on parrot's thoughts here, which is fair enough, you don't even get any real reflection on all of it from spoke in the end.

this is how the video ends:

[3:55:40 - 3:57:25] Spoke: After that I was left thinking, why in the world did I do this? I mean, I was so confused I ended up yelling "Ah, fuck this." then I put on some pants, gave Vitalasy op, and jumped in the void. No one understood why I did this, and I didn't either. Why did I let them win? Why did I follow the rules of the challenge in the first place? Why did it feel like I did all of this for nothing? I wouldn't find the answer until far later. For the next season Parrot didn't want to be the owner anymore, due to the stress and time it took, but he reached out to me and Ash to take his place. He did this, apparently, because we knew a lot about server stuff, but we were willing to give it a shot. I ended up hating that season. Since, no one trusted me, my only teammates on the server were Ash, and surprisingly Planetlord, who almost became the server villain himself, but the worst part was that there was no point in exploiting anymore. Why would I break the game to obtain something I could just get through console? Except, that's when it clicked. The following year, I brought back my Unstable series, this time with Parrot and Wemmbu. These videos would be scripted, but not scripted to save time or be efficient, but instead to push the boundaries of storytelling in minecraft. I've had so much fun this past year, creating things that have never been seen in the game, and that's when I realized it. My favorite moments from the wormhole were when I was making a plan destined to fail, or when I abused a new exploit, or literally any moment when i was doing something that had never been done before. I did the wormhole because it felt like I was doing the impossible. And that feeling was pretty cool.

the whole thing kind of defeats it’s own point doesn’t it? All of this weight on your self reflection, and the mistakes you made, and the way you prioritized your own Content/Story/Narrative/Career/Etc above the other people you were playing with, about chasing this feeling of power. and how, the power was only made real in the lie. you had to lie about how powerful the exploit was in order to trick someone into handing real power to you, and you had to keep that lie up so he wouldn’t stop you, because at every moment you worried that he could stop you. the wormhole is nothing, the exploit was nothing, in any of the ways that really mattered. at one point in this same video, spoke launches a hack client because he’s bored and it isn’t even remarked upon, because there’s no weight placed on launching a hack client. it’s not about what the wormhole can do, it’s about convincing everyone that what you’re doing is interesting enough, is powerful enough, that the power becomes real. it's a social game. If spoke is honest, spoke loses his power. If spoke is vulnerable, spoke loses his power. If spoke, at any moment, stops obfuscating and posturing and acting scary and obtuse and selling his power, spoke loses his power.

that’s what happens to vitalasy. vitalasy is vulnerable, and more importantly accessible, to both the audience and to the other players. because he will sit there and talk to you for hours, and argue with you, and consider your point. spoke makes himself unreachable, so vitalasy receives all of the social consequences that spoke is outrunning by keeping that careful distance. and you have to assume that vitalasy becoming the scapegoat was nothing but useful to him, even if it wasn’t something spoke did intentionally, or consciously.

at a certain point, the only explanation for why spoke won't just actually come clean to parrot instead of hanging onto all of these false pretenses, pivots everything he does on the nppp story in the end, instead of being honest about the conditions nppp was formed under in the first place, is because he doesn't want to deal with the consequences.

everything spoke does in s4 is both chasing that feeling of power in doing what should be impossible, and running away from the point where all of that crumbles and he has to face social repercussions for it. especially when it's obvious that in spite of the lie underpinning everything, and the fact that he was using parrot to achieve godhood, he still cares. it's not like there's this sense of glee in his villainy that will endure, it's just going to hurt if he stops digging himself into this pit, so he can't stop.

he still spent that time with parrot. it was still a real team, no matter why spoke did it in the first place. and the story spoke is telling about the nppp is so much more compelling, so much more meaningful, even when it can never add up right in the end. it's one thing to hurt someone by lying to them, and it's another thing to start wishing the story you were telling was the truth because you won yourself over. In the same way that vitalasy changes course during season 4 because of how much he cares about zam, only you never get to see it happen with spoke. If spoke does feel this, it doesn’t stop him. he doesn’t change his course.

what happens to vitalasy is maybe what spoke is afraid of. because vitalasy does receive those social consequences, on screen, and it’s worse by far than anything we ever see spoke receive. It all falls apart and vitalasy has to respond to it right then and there, taking center stage in a way that allows spoke to slip by under the radar.

despite this, it’s a strange kind of mutual parasitism that works out for both of them in the end: spoke remaining committed to his lie, keeping himself hidden and detached, is what allows vitalasy to avoid playing the villain role he realizes he hates, even when nobody but vitalasy seems to apprehend this as a victory for him. neither wants to be in the other’s shoes. it's easy to look at spoke doing all of this heavy lifting and think, vitalasy really didn't do anything, did he? he found the glitch and that was it, he got spoke involved. but in the end vitalasy says: this is exactly what i wanted.

and vitalasy is put in that position of social vulnerability largely through zam’s presence, acting on lifesteal as a force that (largely unconsciously, at this point) demands vulnerability on multiple levels; not only must you be visible to the audience, but you must be comfortable losing, you must open yourself to embarrassment and potential mockery. you must care. where spoke lets the audience in on nothing, zam lets us in on everything. If zam is going to portray vitalasy a certain way no matter what (and she is, because she refuses to do anything if the audience isn’t there with her), the only course of action is to attempt to control the narrative yourself. even though the more information the audience has, the more you're seen, the less control there is. (a second shoutout to will 75hearts irrealisms on this one)

i guess i don’t know what i want, really. you can’t expect more. It’s a youtube video. he’s not going to stop behaving like it’s a youtube video. but there’s something there, there’s really something there.

zam is my favorite lifesteal member for a reason, and part of it is in the pure lack of care for making videos. going back and watching a zam stream from season 3, the difference is immediately apparent; everything zam did then, she did for the sake of a video. and somewhere over the course of season 4 that changes. so much changes.

If we’re being honest, lifesteal isn’t what I want it to be a lot of the time. most of the players don’t approach it in the ways that interest me. but the thing I care about is real. it is there. and every once in a while, you get it from someone you aren’t expecting, at least for a moment. but whatever, that feeling was pretty cool, wasn’t it? the exploit was pretty cool.

[glaciertea]

It's Our Paradise, and It's Our War Zone

Another Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

I wrote this as a very small collection of one-shots from my longfic (you don't need to read that to read this). I made some minor changes, but it's nothing too crazy. Also, if the Spanish is off, let me know~

Word count: 3.5K

Content Warning: 18+, Pwp, PinV, bondage, overstimulation, toy usage, he uses his webs (not just for tying things up), blindfold, cunnilingus, bad jokes :]

Summary: Miguel helps you out with a daydream you've been having for awhile.

For the past few days, you've been self-motivating yourself to finally tell Miguel about a fantasy that's been lingering on your mind from the moment you realized you held that attraction to him. Specifically, sexual attraction.

You wanted to dangle from his webs, completely exposed and restrained, bounded by trust and that gripping lust.

You would stand in front of the mirror, reciting how you would blurt it out or ease it into a conversation; however, when the time seemed permitted, you would chicken out the last second, pretending as if it was some other ‘important’ thing, such as ‘pancakes, waffles, or French toast?’ Or, ‘did you watch that one show as a kid?’

So far, the mission has been an obvious failure. But that wasn't going to deter you from it. Far from it. Tonight was the night you would finally megaphone your burning desires and sensations to him once and for all.

When he arrived (through the window, because he doesn't believe in the key or door), things went as normal. You made some homemade burgers and pre-cooked fries, watched random episodes from some show, and played a few rounds of your karting game. 

There was some chit-chatting in between, but the main topic refused to show itself on stage. Your palms were sweaty as you wiped them on your shorts for the umpteenth time in a row. You battled with how exactly you were going to say this; all that practicing you did began to clash, and it wasn't helping you one bit. You were scattered.

“Alright. Tell me what's on your mind before you blow a nerve over there, amor.”

You yelped at the sudden confrontation before nervously laughing louder than you expected. "Oh, it's nothing, Miggy. I'm just thinking about some funny jokes in my head.”

Miguel raised a brow. You weren't very vague; there was more to it, and he knew it, but he wanted to see if you could get it out with just a bit of a push from him.

“Okay then. Tell me a joke.”

“Wh-what?” You blinked, a bit stupefied.

“Tell me a joke. I want a good one. So go ahead and make me laugh.” His body was facing you fully. 

You were thrown into an unwarranted spotlight. All eyes were on you. You hated that you got yourself into this.

“A… a joke.” You gulped loudly.

“Si. Give me a joke.” Miguel's authoritative tone seeped out, and it wasn't helping you at all. 

A joke? That's a difficult thing to serve, especially when one is put on the spot, unless you're a professional. Witty one-liners and puns are easier, but having to come up with the starter, the execution, and the punchline is a whole process in itself.

You thought about stalling and beating around the bush.

“No stalling either.” 

At this point, you believed he was a mind-reader. There was no other explanation for it.

He was intently staring into your soul with those mesmerizing eyes, as you did your best to look at everything else besides him. 

“Right. So, here's my joke. It's coming up right now, right this seco-”

“You're stalling. Joke. Now.” 

You felt yourself straining in more ways than one.

“Okay, uh, let's see… How do you catch a squirrel? Climb a tree and act like a nut.” You drummed the air, tittering, before tightening your lips together.

The air was cumbersome, and Miguel's dead gaze wasn't helping.

“That was bad. Muy mal.”

“Hey! I don't think it was that bad. You asked for a joke, and I gave one.”

“Yes, but a joke that makes me laugh.” He leaned in, entrapping your body. “That didn't even get a chuckle, corazón.”

You squirmed on the sofa, his husky breath traveling through your veins. How you disliked, but loved the easy affects he had on you.

“So tell me, what's really running through there?” He skimmed his knuckle from your forehead to your chin, your breathing picking up.

He wanted you to speak your mind. He often reminds you not to be scared to do it, especially around him. He loves listening to your thoughts and observations. And one thing he also adores hearing is your wants and needs. He's always ready to care for and respect them.

“I-I…”

“Go on. What's going on in that brain? I know for a fact that it isn't just jokes.”

He had you cornered. Figuratively and literally. That stare wasn't going anywhere, and neither were you. He could do this all night if he really strived for it. He is a strong-willed man after all.

“Fine! Back when we were first getting to know each other and all, we knew each other, but we didn't have that ground of–”

“You're stalling!” He snarled out, pressing his body into yours. “To the point. Now!”

Your eyes widened at that domineering voice. You didn't even realize he could get that booming and demanding. He started to tense up when he recognized that change.

“I'm so sorry, mi corazón. I didn't mean to sound like that. I usually don't use that voice unless others refuse to listen. Wa-wait! I'm not saying you're not listening; I mean–”

“I had this fantasy of being fully tied up in your webs. A sense of trust and longing to be there.” You bumped your forehead into his, that burning passion glazing over.

Miguel's breathing became rapid. Was this what you really wanted? Or was it something that you would believe he would want? He couldn't lie that he also didn't have those lingering around his brain, but would you truly be okay with it?

“I- are you sure you want something like that?”

“Yes, this is what I want to try. This is something I want.” You were determined to do this, praying that he would accept your fiery cravings.

“Corazón, will you allow me to–”

“Yes, I will allow you to take control. To tie me in your webs.” You placed your wrists together, expressing that vulnerability. “Please, Miguel.”

Miguel nodded, knowing that no more words needed to be said. Everything was now on the table. He lowered his head until his lips were on yours. Folding your legs around his waist and your arms over his neck, Miguel picked you up, placing your body on a nearby wall.

“Mi hermosa amor, te adoraré ahora y siempre. Siempre me preguntaré cómo te conseguí.” Miguel whispered against your neck, causing you to moan and writhe. 

He nibbled the crook of your neck and collarbone, his tongue gliding over the delicate skin. His hands dragged down your shirt, lifting it over your head. 

He brushed his claws over your hardened nipples, tweaking them before bending forward and nibbling the nubs hungrily. You blissfully sighed out, when a sudden memory popped up in Miguel's head.

“That vibrator… It's in your left bottom drawer by your bed, right?”

You froze. “You… I… How did you know about that?!” You honestly assumed you swept that in the corner, hidden away from the naked eye.

“I found it when you told me to bring that bottle of lube.” He flicked his tongue over your cleavage, leaving hickies on your chest and the valley.

“How—but you had to really peek to have—”

“You were the one who told me to put it there, baby.” His claws made their way to your shorts and tugged them down, caressing your thighs. “It rolled out when I pulled the drawer out.”

You were flustered, stuttering, when Miguel planted a kiss to quiet you down. “Do you want me to get it? I will only do it if you want me to.”

It took you exactly one second before wholeheartedly agreeing. You wanted to know how far this fantasy of yours would go, and you were excited that there was an unexpected but welcome addition.

You slid out one of your dining room chairs and sat down. Miguel held that confidence in his walk, and you knew it. Strolling back out with your purple and white magic wand and the bottle, you gave a thumbs-up.

Retaking your earlier positions, he sat the items in the chair, pressing your body back into the wall, two fingers making their way in your panties, rubbing the folds, proud of how wet you were.

“Mm, I–ah–want to be gagged and blindfolded.”

“You really want to be tethered up, don't you?” His thumb rolled over your clit as he stared for any signs of displeasure.

“I have an eye mask in the same drawer, and the fantasy includes your webs in between my teeth.” 

Miguel made no hesitation; he was back with it in a blink of an eye. You could tell how roused he was by the throbbing bulge in his pajama pants, as you swore you could see some damp stains. 

“If I do this, you'll need to have a way to alert me if you start feeling uncomfortable. Safewords won't exactly work.”

You closed one eye, thinking for a few seconds, when you snapped your fingers. Propping your hands over your head, you gave a thumbs-up. 

“Thumbs-up means you can go; bunny ears mean slow down; and when I snap, stop.” You demonstrated each motion as Miguel nodded.

“Vale, vale, bien.” He brushed the side of your face and smiled. “You ready?”

You nodded, arms still above your head. He picked you up with ease as you examined him shooting his webs at the wall and the ceiling. Carefully sticking you to the netting, he bound you in a dragonfly shibari tie, thoroughly taking his time. 

“How many times have you done this?” You eyeballed his work as much as possible.

“A few.” He pressed a kiss on your stomach. “But that's all I'm going to say.”

You hummed out at the intriguing fact that'll now be stuck in your brain.

Putting the eye mask on, he waved his claw in front of you, happy that you didn't react to it.

“Okay. Ready to be muted?”

“I'm ready to be partially subdued.” You chuckled as he joined in.

“Okay, just let me know if you feel uncomfortable.” He shot out a long string, double roping it around your mouth and part of your head. ��Bite down.”

You obeyed as you tried to get used to the thick organic webbing. It was like a rope, but not. A feeling that if someone asked you to describe, you wouldn't know where to begin.

He strummed over your curves, crooning at the beauty that was secured before him. His full lips and tongue were dragging and wetting your body as you felt two unsheathed fingers hook the bands of your underwear, drawing them down until they were on the floor.

His eyes were locked on your arousal. You exhaled out contentedly, knowing that you were in safe hands. Even if you weren't in control, you still felt like the leader of this.

He dropped to his knees, eye level with your clenching heat. You awaited him, electricity coursing through your veins, desperate to know when he would have his way with you. You could only groan, not being able to move any part of your body as you spread open like a buffet exclusively for him.

“Always a delightful sight.” He nipped your inner thighs, adding suction to leave markings. 

“Mine.” He trailed his tongue over your vulva, making sure to get every part.

A while escaped, your chest heaving from the sensual lick. You yearned for more as you tried, but no matter what you enunciated, only jumbled-up groans from your throat came out.

He pretended not to hear your neediness, teasing your folds with a flick here and there. He would quickly bury his head into your entrance, pumping his tongue for a couple of seconds before pulling out. He did it several times, and you weren't happy with the taunts.

“Mmm! Mm mmmph!” 

“Mmm, no puedo escucharte. All I hear is murmurs, amor.” 

You could envision his condescending smirk just from his voice. You growled, but stopped when you felt the familiar head on your clit.

On a low setting, Miguel settled the toy, knotting the web around your waist and hips so it could stay attached right to the fleshy bud.

“Now, you will cum when I tell you. Understand?” He slid two fingers into your core, scissoring to help with your urges. 

You hastily gave the thumbs-up, and your moans in his ears made him grunt. “Muy bueno, muy, muy bueno.”

He yanked his two fingers out, causing you to panic and request that he keep going as best as you could, when he suddenly upped the power.

“Mmmm—Mmph. Mmn!” 

He removed his clothes and sauntered over to the seat you left out. Cozily perching himself down, he squeezed some of the clear substance on his hands, pleasuring his throbbing cock.

You despised that you couldn't see a thing, but you loved the feeling that he was still providing, even if you didn't know what it could be. You listened to his praises, your ears picking up squishing noises. You couldn't tell if that was from you or if he was doing something to himself.

“Look at my gorgeous moon. She's doing so well, trying not to cum. You're such a good girl for following my rules.” 

He stroked himself faster as he eyed your messy, trembling figure. The vibrator went wild as your legs spasmed, but with the restraints, it barely seemed as though they were moving.

He licked his lips at your dripping pussy—a nice puddle formed on your wooden floorboards. A delicious view for only him to behold.

Your muffled screams and begs were music to his ears. Your face drenched in sweat, tears, and saliva, your mind ragged, knowing that he's observing every reaction and every moment. You knew he was enjoying himself way too much.

“Let's see if we can add a bit more, corazón.”

You shook your head; your faint pleas went unheard. The fact that he already denied you to orgasm, and now he wants more? He's torturing you at this point just because he can. And you adored it.

“Mmph! Mmm!” You wriggled as you sensed him getting closer to you.

“You doing okay?” He stroked your hair, and you gave the thumbs-up to have him keep going.

“Bueno.” 

You heard another buzzing sound. Did he have a second vibrator? Did you? You swore you only had one, so you had zero idea what it could be.

“Mmmm? Mmm?”

Miguel chuckled at your curiosity, placing a kiss on your sweaty forehead. “Remember, mi amor. No cumming unless I say.”

The sound was getting louder. You really wanted to see what it exactly was, so you snapped your finger, and Miguel immediately tore the silk from your mouth.

“Corazón? You okay?” He examined your face for any indication of uneasiness.

“I'm fine, Miggy. Just a bit interested if you had another vibrator.”

“No. It's my web.” 

You were a bit lost. His web? But the ones around you weren't humming or anything like that, so that probed the question: what type of web was this then? 

“But how is it buzz–” Your mouth was once again covered as you screeched when Miguel took hold of the toy, rubbing and pressing it harder on your clitoris.

“Laser web. Now remember. No. Releasing.” You gasped when something heated was pushed into your opening, convulsing and pulsating lightly.

Your toes curled at the overstimulation. You sobbed, your heart hammering at a treacherous tempo. You wanted to cum so badly; you wanted that sweet release of relief and satisfaction, but he wasn't going to allow it.

“There you go, such a good girl.” He pushed the web in and out in a rhythmic pattern. The drones from the objects, the squelching from your pussy, and those cute noises emitting from you made him twitch madly.

Your juices trickled down his claws, the other side wanting to escape as the nectar from your delectable pussy stickied his hand and web, as he knew you were doing everything in your power to not release.

He dropped the web when a raspy, guttural growl rumbled in his chest. “Fuck, fuck—I want you, corazón. I need you. Please.” 

Miguel grasped the webs, his eyes lingering, waiting for that signal. You nodded, as he saw the thumb. He smiled and removed the mesh and blindfold, revealing that warmth and faith in your smile and gaze.

“You are beautiful, you know?”

“You mention it every chance you get.” You giggled out when he pushed his forehead on yours.

“Then I will continue to do it. You are very beautiful.”

He kissed you, sliding his tongue into your mouth, before shoving himself in one go. You threw your head back at the suddenness. A cry quickly turned into a shriek when you felt the familiar buzz on your clitoris once more.

Miguel began to thrust maniacally, your back rubbing against the wall from every pump he gave.

“You like that? Mmn, mmm, fuck, mi corazón, such a perfect little pussy for papi.” He grunted in your ear, licking the lobe.

“Mi-Miguel! Too… too much!” Your screams sprang out, your walls constricting with every deep impact.

“You can- fuck… You can take it—ah, mierda, so good…”

He released his firm hold on the netting to your hips. Pulling all the way out, he paused for a few seconds before ramming himself back to the hilt. He repeated this, prizing himself on the reactions.

Tears rolling down your chin, your shudders, and whimpers that merge into strangled moans. Your disheveled state as you took Miguel, feeling the tip brush against your cervix, as your belly bulged from every breach.

His hips grinding against yours, your brain foggy with white, and him in the center. The vibrator was whirring with every rock; you were losing your mind.

“Too sensitive- Miguel. Please!”

“I'm not stopping. Going to fuck–ah–going to fuck you until you can't walk.” 

“Miguel!” You wailed out as drool leaked down as he rubbed against your g-spot.

“That's right; let them know who's doing this. You're mine. I'm going to have you and everyone else remember.” He rasped out in that ragged, husky tone, making you quiver all over.

His name was the only thing leaving your lips as your soaking walls clenched. The sensation from his throbbing, heated shaft as he hit every point perfectly. You slowly began to garble out his name, slurring it into one incoherent sentence.

“Mig-Miguuel!”

“There you go, who owns this pussy?”

“You.”

Miguel snarled in your face, yanking your head back. “I don't like repeating myself. Who? Owns? This? Pussy?!”

His hip bones slammed into yours. You were aware you were going to be overtly sore and bruised in the morning, but it was all worth it in the moment.

“Miguel! Miguel owns this pussy!” 

“¡Sí, joder! ¡Buena chica, qué buena chica! ¡Papi es dueño de este coño, papi es dueño de este hermosa coño!” 

You were far gone; the sounds of your wet, erotic bodies covered every square centimeter of your living room and kitchen, and maybe even out of the door.

Your feverish sobs and his primal growls sent you into a frenzy. A strong yearning began to creep itself into your stomach as Miguel's brutal pace refused to let up.

“I feel—ah—Miggy! I'm going to—I'm going to—”

“Cum, cum, my love. Yes, yes, cum on my cock. Do it. Cum!”

His hand reached between you two as he pressed the overwhelming toy more on your sensitive bud, jerking it back and forth like a joycon.

Your mouth opened wide, and your eyes rolled all the way into the back of your head when you snapped.

“Miguel!” 

The bubble burst. You squirted out on his abs, your thighs, the floor, and who knows what else. Your body quaked as if someone were trying to perform an exorcism. But whatever was possessing you, you didn't want it to leave.

He growled out, pushing your legs up to change the angle. He propelled sporadically as he was close to his own climax.

“Sí, sí, sí, joder, joder, joder—corazón!”

He roared out, his talons pricking your hips, as he emptied his entire soul into you. 

His chest heaved, your bodies glistening in sweat, as he pressed his forehead into yours, a shaky breath released.

“Ah… ah- ha…. Fuck. Baby? Corazón? You… you okay?”

“I…”

“Yes? You okay?” He wiped some moisture off your face.

“I- if the dove is the bird of peace, what is the bird of true love? It’s the swallow.” You gave a goofy and sleepy grin.

Miguel froze before he snickered and began to laugh. 

“I did it! I made you laugh.”

“Ay, yes… Yes, you did. What am I going to do with you?”

You both smiled into the kiss, happily swirling your tongues in a messy dance.

“Did I fulfill your fantasy, amor?”

“Mhmm, but let's go another round, just to be sure it was completely satisfactory.”

“Dios mío, me estás matando, luna mía. Pero maldita sea, si no es de la mejor manera posible.”

You didn't understand, but your eyes were right back covered, and that was enough for you to know.

[demonicbaby666]

A Job Offer

One Shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Criminal Minds 

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x fem!Reader

Genre: Angst and Smut

Words: 5.2k+

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, NSFW, smut, cursing, fingering, oral, overstimulation, strap on use (JJ!recieiving)

Summary: Despite you and JJ not being a couple, you do share nights together, nights that are not so innocent. However, when a job offer comes your way, you have to decide whether it'd be better to stay at the BAU or accept your new position, and like it or not, JJ has a part to play in this choice.

A/n: Hi, the kids don’t exist in this timeline. Also the timeline doesn’t timeline cause JJ ain’t really liaison, but I care not. Also, leaving it on a sorta cliffhanger without a part 2 cause I’m mean xoxo

"I'm going to cum!" JJ screamed up to the ceiling, her hips moving erratically to and from the mattress, "Fuck baby, so good."

You were fucking her just how she liked it, dirty, rough and hard, pounding the strap in and out of her so fast it became a blur of skin slapping against skin, the dildo only appearing in rapid intervals. JJ's hands were encouraging your every thrust, her nails etching their distinct curved signature into the supple skin of your ass. 

"Do it," you encouraged, soaking up every desperate moan. With a slip of your hand between your bodies, you rubbed the older woman's clit, gently enough so that the sensitivity gained from the last hour of fucking was not piqued but hard enough so that the pressure would give her the needed edge over her impending orgasm, "Cum for me JJ." 

"Yes!" She cried out, her release simultaneously sparking life into every cell in her body and freezing it in its tracks. Her hands stayed stagnant but firm, keeping you fully sheathed inside her as her body shuddered and her hips ground in circles, lengthening her orgasm to its full extent. 

Slowly, a steady breathing pattern was adopted between the two of you. The hands holding you close slackened, allowing you room to pull out and fall back onto the mattress with a content sigh falling from your lips. The moment was only made better when soft blonde locks tickled your chest, and you glanced down to see JJ's head settling on your shoulder. Metal clacked quietly - fingers expertly unbuckling the harness from your hips, allowing you to shuffle it off and place it aside. 

A comfortable silence soon fell over your bedroom, warm and lulling. Your fingers traipsed mindlessly up and down JJ's spine whilst she wrapped an arm around your waist, nestled closer into your neck, and planted light kisses over the salty skin. It was easy in times like these to lose yourself, forget the daily struggles that fed your sullen mind, and imagine that life could always be filled with the contentedness you were given a brief taste of. A daydream come true, but the reality was much crueler. 

"I've got to go," JJ sighed after a minute or two, showing no intent or want of moving, "Will's back in an hour." 

"A few more minutes," you grumbled, running a hand through her hair and pulling her body in a little closer. 

No argument was made, and JJ wholeheartedly accepted her fate, shuffling her body half atop yours and moving her kisses higher to the fine line of your jaw. The finite moment lingered with sweet kisses and caresses shared, and soon, you succumbed to sleep. It's a simple but treasured thing, sleeping next to the person you've found yourself undeniably falling for. It's seeing another side of them and letting them see a secret side of you when you have no control over how you look - peaceful or softly snoring from the exhaustion of a long work day, as JJ often did. 

The cold woke you, alongside the quiet shuffling from the far side of the room. It was never a fond sight to sit up, rubbing well-earned sleep from your eyes, and see JJ dressing herself, going over what excuse she'd come up with to tell her fiance. 

"Shit," she groaned, walking over to the bed and placing a chaste kiss on your forehead, "I didn't mean to wake you." 

"It's okay," you smiled, "What time is it?" 

"Almost eight. We slept for about an hour," JJ rushed to say, double-checking her phone before tossing it into her bag, "I've got to go, but I'll see you tomorrow." 

You tried your best to give her a convincing smile and a cordial nod, though you knew it was anything but. She was trying to hide the obvious stress running through her system from sleeping in too long and, most likely, being late back home. So you - as always - found yourself empathising.

"Drive safe," you said, your false smile still intact. 

It wasn't hard to fall back asleep once you heard the front door to your apartment close. You'd become accustomed to warding off unpleasant thoughts after encounters and partings with JJ. The two options were either to feed them and entrap yourself into believing a false reality or to acknowledge that life just isn't pretty or straightforward, it's a brutal battlefield, and the only way to survive is to face the truth of a shitty situation. That acceptance kept you strong and tactile in how you responded to the predicament you'd found yourself in. So, sleep came easy, knowing you'd already surmounted the horrors that fought to keep you awake. 

The following morning was, as it turned out, not so ordinary. The routine check of your emails had you up on your feet and pacing, overcome with utter bewilderment. A job offer to run the Washington FBI office for counterterrorism had landed in your lap a while ago, and you'd taken a gander in submitting your name into the mix. In honesty, it was a drunken gander, and you had never expected to be considered, let alone chosen. But life had a funny way of surprising you then. 

Though the start of the day was somewhat unexpected, you treated it as any other, getting breakfast, driving to work, and sitting down at your desk to sift through mountains of paperwork. You'd worked in the BAU for a while, and it only dawned on you with thoughts of leaving that the work grew to be tiresome, cases were exhausting, each taking its toll on your psyche. Yet the gratification of putting shitty ass people behind bars just couldn't be matched. Plus, you adored the team. They were your family; you settled down in Virginia, and, well, there was JJ. The pros seemed to outweigh the cons, but you hadn't had time to do more research, so assuming that staying at the BAU was the better option wasn't exactly foolproof. 

"You're moving to Washington?!" A high-pitched squeal came from behind you, and you felt everyone turn to look at you as Garcia stormed towards your desk. 

Soaring from your chair, you yanked the blonde by her arm and pulled her into the hallway, ignoring the curious looks from the rest of the team.

"First of all, stalking me… Not cool," you bitterly whispered before taking a deep breath and quelling your tone. In times like these, it was hard not to find the technical analyst's snooping infuriating, but at the end of the day, the truth was her checkups came from a place of worry, "Second, I haven't decided yet." 

A flash of hurt crossed her features, "So you are considering it?" 

There was no use playing coy, "Yes. It's a good job, Garcia and I'd be stupid not to." 

"I just," she said, briefly pausing and giving you a watery smile, "I know. I'm happy for you. I just don't want to see you go." 

It was safe to assume every little outburst this woman had was down to her rampant emotions and her fundamental problem with change. That's why it was hard to stay mad at her. She honestly didn't want to see you go and was most likely beating herself up for feeling so conflicted. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't known what that felt like. 

"Come here," you open your arms to her, and she gladly accepts the gesture by falling into them, "I promise I'll tell you what I decide. Plus, I'd never let you miss the opportunity to throw me a killer goodbye party." 

"You better not," she grumbled, pulling back to fix her hair, "We've got a case, by the way. Hotch is waiting in the briefing room." 

"Well, rally the troops, and I'll see you there."

The briefing went as briefings do: information was handed out, and vivid imagery was shared and imprinted into your head forever. However, the presence of JJ next to you did help. She had a calming aura, and all you'd have to do when you felt as though the world was a shitty place - which it very much is - was turn to her and admire how her smile could be so warm, how her fleeting reassuring touches would pacify your sunken mood and how throughout her whole time at the BAU she'd remained so strong and still so loving, and you'd feel fine. 

"You okay?" JJ asked as you walked to the car, "I heard Garcia this morning, and you seemed off during the briefing." 

"I'm all good," you lied, giving her a smile when she opened the passenger door for you, "I have a lot on my mind, that's all." Not a lie. 

She appeared sceptical, her eyes zoning in on you and creasing every so slightly at the sides. But she must have pushed it aside whilst closing the door and making her way around the car because the next thing she said was, "Well, I'd be happy to take your mind off it later." 

You chuckled at that. It was no secret that JJ had a high libido, and hell, if you didn't love it, particularly in times when she'd ravish you all night and would still have the energy to go again the following morning. It made you feel the most wanted you'd ever felt during the entire duration of your hapless life. The passion bred in nights spent together was mind-numbing. It felt like you found your escape with each other - away from the team, your home lives and the constant strain of cases. Somehow, even the mention of your nights together, previous or upcoming, had a way of putting your mind at rest and eliciting a beaming smile to grace your lips. 

"You know I'd never say no," you said, smirking, admiring how JJ mirrored your facial expression as she started the car and headed to the airstrip.

It was the truth; you'd never found a good enough reason to decline her offers, and the likelihood was you wouldn't. She had a way of twisting you around her fingers and never letting you forget it. Lunches, catch-ups, and, even once, a weekend trip away had been cancelled, and to think all it took was one phone and a particular husky voice at the other end of the line requesting your company. 

So, true to word, after a long day, you snuck into JJ's hotel room and found a pleasant surprise. She lay sprawled out on the bed, stark naked, a tantalising smirk adorning her lips. One index stretched out then curled in a come hither motion, and you practically leapt. 

"Someone's eager," JJ chuckled, cutting herself with a moan as your lips descended to her neck.

"Can you blame me?" You said, words slightly muffled, with you nipping and sucking at JJ's throat. 

"Mmmm, I'm not complaining," she hums as she tilts her head back and grabs the neckline of your t-shirt, "Though I will complain about you still wearing clothes," she moved her hand down to the lining of your shirt and tugged, "Off." 

Sitting up, you rid yourself of your shirt and bra, much to JJ's delight. No matter how many times she's seen you naked, she still looks at you like it's the very first time, and that in itself gets you wetter than the thought of all your exes combined. 

By the time you were done revealing your upper body, hands were already grasping at the waistband of your trousers. The irony of her earlier comment staring you right in the face was too hard to ignore, so you let out a breathy laugh whilst saying, "Now look who's eager." 

To that comment, JJ stopped her efforts to take off your trousers and instead used them to yank you forward, the tip of her nose brushing against your stomach. She darted her head down and harshly bit the side of your hip bone with a growl. You had to hold your bottom lip between your teeth to stop a moan from spilling out. 

After her display of dominance, you knew two things: JJ wanted to be in control tonight, and by the look in her eyes, if you weren't naked soon, you'd face some heavy consequences. 

"Okay, okay," you surrendered, helping her remove the last barriers between your naked bodies. 

Instantly, she had you on your back. Stationed between your legs, she looked down at you with blown-out pupils, shamelessly taking in the sight of your bare body on display. 

"Stunning," she whispered, sounding more like she was talking to herself than to you, but you seemed to blush regardless. 

JJ left you no time to repay the compliment before her lips crashed down on yours, and her tongue demanded entrance, which you readily granted. She swirled the muscle around your mouth in a practised dance, stopping now and then to nibble at your lips, then going right back in. The way she kissed was addictive, and often, you thought you could come undone just from it alone. She'd perfected the art of being rough yet gentle, fast yet slow, passionate yet loving. It set your whole body alight, made your throat dry, and your knees weak. Even when laid down, you felt your body failing you, the mattress against your back a reassuring fail-safe. 

Tender kisses fell lower, marking an invisible path to your collarbone, where they took their time dotting an array of scarlet blotches into your skin. JJ knelt back, smirking as her eyes darted over the canvas of bruising marks before she got back to work, lowering herself back down to the juncture of your breast. There, she became softer, pecking lightly from side to side till she was close enough to encapsulate a firm nipple into her mouth and lather it with her tongue. She knew your body so well - too well, you sometimes thought - you hadn't even needed to mourn the isolated attention to one breast before a warm hand cupped neglected flesh and began to knead. 

"Oh god," you whimpered, pushing yourself further into JJ's mouth and hand. 

You felt her lips curl around your breast, likely proud of herself for getting you worked up so fast despite knowing perfectly well she could do so with much less in her arsenal. Gloating put aside, JJ brought her free hand resting beside you to your thigh, squeezing the muscle - her thumb skimming the outskirts of where you almost certainly needed her. She continued to tease, and a protest lingered on your tongue, watching JJ brazenly settle on paying homage to your stomach, planting kisses high and low, but never as low as you wanted them. The pit in your stomach grew bigger, and the ache between your legs became more painful, yet the blonde paid no attention to your dejected whines. 

Finally, when even the rutting of your hips did nothing, and the wriggling about only brought JJ back to your neck, you half huffed, half moaned, "Do I need to beg?"

Oh, so pleased with herself, JJ retorted, "I'd like that very much."

Choosing your release over your pride, you grabbed the sides of JJ's face, pulling her up so she was at eye level before confidently saying, "Please fuck me, JJ. I want to feel your fingers inside me. I want you to make me cum so hard that I can't walk tomorrow."

"Mmm," she hummed, her hands squeezing both your breast and thigh, "Well, since you asked so nicely." 

The cursed thumb that had been endlessly teasing you moved, brushing lightly over your clit. As brief as the stimulation was, it was enough to cause you to jolt and grip the bedsheets. JJ retired her hand from your breast and clung to the pillow behind you, fingers running through the wet mess between your legs. 

"I love how wet you get for me," she husked, placing a quick peck on your lips and ignoring your disapproving grunt to being denied more, "I want to watch you." 

Just as she made her plans known, she thrust two fingers inside you and watched your mouth open in a gasp, biting her lip at the erotic sight. You burned, not only from her eager gaze but from the biting pleasure that ran its way along your spine and caused all your muscles to tense. The room faded to dark, your eyelids drooping, letting you hone in on the sea of sensations swimming through your body. Your chest rose and fell with every sharp intake of air you took, and it only became worse when JJ started to move, sliding her fingers out and then plunging them back in. She did this over and over until you felt as though you might burst. There were bulbs of sweat forming over your brow. Your lips were permanently parted. Your jaw shook with each breath. You were so close to the edge but not close enough. Then a thumb began caressing your clit, and you almost screamed in relief. 

"Yes," you hissed, hips bucking up and down as JJ angled her fingers to run over ridged flesh, "I'm going to cum."

"Open your eyes," she tenderly whispered, kissing your temple, then leaning back again, "Look at me." 

You did as instructed, watched JJ sway above you, saw the reverence in her eyes, and gazed into them as you felt the knot loop tighter and tighter in your stomach. She moved faster, using her hips to fuck into you harder. In a flash of white, your legs were shaking, your fingers tearing into the bed linen as your release poured out of you right onto JJ's fingers. All you could do was loop your arms around JJ and muffle your shaky cries into her neck, praying you wouldn't be heard. 

The two of you stayed intertwined like that for a while, her fingers still inside you, moving slowly and steadily until you winced from being so sensitive, and she delicately withdrew. You had to blink to make out the room decor again: a wooden bedside table with a flickering lamp atop it, a sorry-looking armchair sitting idly in the corner and a dainty coffee table beside it. 

"You okay?" JJ smiled above you, brushing strands of hair out of your face. 

Returning her smile, you gave her a nod before pulling her down for a passionate kiss. You threaded your hands through her silky hair, scratching at her scalp and enjoying the content sighs she let out. There was a harmony to how you and JJ fucked. Where you'd often find in relationships one person getting off a significant amount of times more, a giver and receiver dynamic if you will, that was nothing like what you two had. Together, you walked the line of balance well, but at that moment, feeling her above you, tasting her tongue in your mouth, and remembering the way she looked at you whilst giving yet another brain-numbing orgasm, it made you want to give her more - give her everything. 

You wanted to make sure that come the following days, she'd be so sore she wouldn't even consider letting Will touch her, let alone fuck her. Trying to eliminate the possessiveness and jealousy that lay dormant within you was useless, so in times like these, you used it for good. You could show JJ that no one else could do this for her. Her body was painted into your mind so clearly that you could be blinded and still tell it was her from touch alone. You could have your memory taken away, but with a pencil and paper, you'd draw the dips of her hips, the creases beside her eyes, and the jutting knuckles that run along her slender fingers. No one else knew her body like you; the need to remind her of it was dire. 

Using her kiss befuddled mind to your advantage; it was easy to flip the tables and trap JJ beneath you. The move earned you a shocked yelp, though the second your lips found a dusky nipple, no complaints were heard. Only sultry moans warmed your ears. 

Palms pushed the back of your head down whilst JJ arched to fit more of herself into your mouth, and you dutifully took her in. It didn't matter that you could hardly breathe, not when you could feel and hear how JJ's breath was catching in her throat and how her heart was hammering against her chest. 

After giving the older woman's breast the much-needed attention they deserved, you sought your sights lower. Leaving a shimmering trail down JJ's taut stomach, you crawled back on the bed and positioned yourself comfortably between two muscled thighs. A sharp inhale from above, and hands fisting in your hair were sign enough for you to drive forward and deliver a long lick along JJ's slit, closing your eyes to enjoy the bitter flavour of her exploding over your tastebuds. 

It wasn't long before you worked JJ up into a wiggling mess. It was painstakingly evident from the tireless efforts of the blonde's buckling hips that the lack of notice of her clit was becoming a problem. Taking pity, you sought to eradicate JJ's frustrations. With one final up swipe of your teasing tongue, you brought your lips to her needy clit and sucked. The gratification echoed around the hotel room as JJ slapped a palm over her mouth to keep quiet. 

You kept going, alternating between sucking and licking, occasionally moving south to tease JJ's cunt with the stiffened end of your tongue, then returning to her clit. 

"Don't stop," JJ breathily begged, "Don't you dare stop."

And you didn't, not for a second. You continued lathering JJ with unbridled pleasure, coaxing her body into a quivering mess until the muscles in her stomach were painfully tense and only then did you ease two fingers inside her. The pace you immediately set was vigorous, thrusting in and out of her so quickly her body was struggling to keep up. With her head flung back, JJ came with your name on her lips, breathily panting. Yet, still, you wanted more. 

Sitting up, you waited for JJ to regulate her breathing as she held tight to your forearms and only then did you start moving your fingers again. Nestling your head in her neck, you moved faster, finding and hitting a spot deep inside JJ that had her digging her nails into your skin, marring you with crescent moons dotted in red. The pain only motivated you to keep going, fucking into her harder until she was all but screaming and sure to be heard. You didn't care. She was perfect like this: panting, out of control and solely focused on what you were doing to her. 

Your arm began to protest; it ached and cramped, but you fought hard against it, using your body to drive in and out of JJ's exhausted pussy. Over and over, she spoke your name, hushed this time, as her awareness of where she was prevailed. 

Sensing JJ's orgasm from the pulsing clenches around your fingers, you snuck your thumb over a tender clit and added another finger to your thrusts. The additional force sent her toppling over the edge, but you didn't stop even then. You continued to fuck her right through her orgasm, biting into the flesh of her neck to keep her crying out. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!' JJ cried out, "I-"

She never finished, a third orgasm rapidly washing over her, snapping her spine and leaving her motionless, half off the bed. Her jaw was trembling, and her eyes wedged closed, but the starting of a contented smile was tugging the side of her lips. When she slumped down on the mattress, she was boneless and limp, her chest heaving as she struggled to draw in steady breaths, "Fuck," she finally whispered, her eyes still closed and a tear falling down the side of her cheek, "Fuck." 

Settling down next to her, resting on one elbow, you mindlessly traced patterns along her glistening stomach, smirking proudly to yourself. Aftercare had always been a big thing between the two of you, and after what you'd just done, she looked like she needed it. So you stayed that way for a while, laid down together, occasionally sharing innocent kisses and soft smiles until you wound up in each other's arms. JJ lay atop you, her leg becoming a blanket to your waist, her head and breath a chest warmer. 

"When were you going to tell me," JJ asked, and you looked down to see her eyes already on you. 

Moving strands of silky blonde hair behind JJ's ear, you give her a questioning look, "Tell you about what?" 

The question seemed to infuriate her. She shuffled out of your embrace and leaned back against the headboard, giving you a blank stare. "You don't want to go," JJ proudly stated her opinion as fact, arms folded across her chest as a finger steadily taps away at her forearm, "You know you'll get bored sitting behind a desk so much."

Brushing off the fact she had a point and focussing on remaining civil but not coming off as a pushover, you held your ground, "It's a good opportunity, and I'm not not considering taking it," you were silently begging her to understand, your eyebrows knitted together and lip wedged between your teeth.

"Come on, you can't be serious," she humorlessly laughed. The audacity of her tone gave you half a mind to walk out. You didn't, though, because this had to happen at some point, be it now or in a few days. 

"What's left for me here?" you asked, eyes trained on the blonde, your finger under her chin keeping her from looking away and trying to escape. If she wanted you to stay, so desperately as she seemed to, she owed you this, "Give me one good reason I should stay." 

Her lips parted, her jaw moving up and down in small increments. It was like the words she wanted to say were there, but she was fighting to get them out. You gave her time, looking at her with expectant eyes, softening your gaze to encourage whatever was trapped in her bobbing throat, but nothing came. Then her mouth snapped shut as though someone had tugged on an invisible string sewn through pink velvety lips, permanently sealing them. 

The silence became too loud. It sought to engulf you, swallow you up so that all you'd hear was the sound of your own broken heart beating so painfully loud it made your chest ache. Your arms felt limp as you slung them to your side and rolled on your back, staring at the ceiling. It felt cold and bare without the promise of another comforting embrace because somehow you knew there was an unspoken realisation that this was truly the end of something. 

The stinging behind your eyes had made itself known fully, and you couldn't handle JJ seeing you like this. Straightening yourself out with a roll of your shoulder and a lengthy exhale, you stood up, threw on your clothes while ignoring the awkward atmosphere that circulated the room and made your way to the door. Turning back before you exited, you sneered, "I thought so," and slammed the door shut behind you. 

To say the next day was awkward would be an understatement. If the team had noticed the tension between you and JJ, which they most likely had, they used their better judgment to ignore it and focus solely on the case. From the corner of your eye, you noticed their regular stares, but you knew it was their way of ensuring you were okay. Once you caught on, you offered small smiles and brief nods that told them all was well, and you were thankful that that was enough to ease their curiosities. 

It wasn't till much later in the day, when you were packing up to head back to the hotel, did JJ acknowledge your existence, and you weren't having any of it. She approached you as you slung your bag over your shoulder and started walking out with Reid and Emily. Instead of doing the mature thing, which would have been to wait for JJ to catch up and deal with your suffocating predicament, you gave her the cold shoulder, ignoring her presence completely and walking out. 

A faint sigh came from the room you'd just vacated, and you fought against your better judgment to head back to the hotel and put the whole day behind you. It was for the best; you needed time to think, and you still had a looming decision hanging over your head. It was a life-changing decision; you couldn't afford to cloud your mind with a frivolous affair. 

With what comfort a shabby mattress could offer, you settled back, opened your laptop, looked at some apartment listings, checked over the job description a couple more times, and re-read the email, indeed confirming you had been offered the job if you wished to take it. Despite your best efforts, the god-forsaken argument continued to play in your head: JJ's dejected look when she was unable to voice her true feelings, the razor-sharp tone she used to admonish you and most of all, her inability to give you the one thing you needed that would have turned the tables and made your decision for you. 

A knock at your door pulled you from said incessant thoughts. You'd have been grateful for the distraction had you not sensed who would likely be your 'knight in shining armour'. Rising and looking through the peephole confirmed your suspicions, and an involuntary groan slipped free. 

"Real mature," JJ quipped. Taking a deep breath and then staring pleadingly into the peephole where she knew you were standing, she tried again, "Sorry. Please, can we talk?" 

The door fractionally opened, enough for you to slip your head out and huff, "I'm exhausted, and I don't think I have the energy to deal with this now." 

"I'll give you one," she muttered under her breath.

"Give me what?" You huff. 

Opening the door to let her in, already fed up with where this conversation was inevitably headed - which was most likely an argument - you move over to lean against the outdated armchair. 

JJ watched your movements as she shut the door and stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, "A reason," she began, looking down at her left hand. You curiously followed her gaze. There on her finger sat an elegant diamond ring, glinting in the lamplight. It was a sickly sight, and the vexing thing was it never used to be. Your stomach lurched, forcing you to avert your gaze to keep yourself from spewing your dinner onto the atrocious carpet. Honestly, it was a mystery that the team wasn't investigating who committed this interior design crime. 

"I don't want you to go. I want you to stay," she took long strides towards you, and you shot your head up to see, in the blink of an eye, JJ was standing tall right above you. Her fingers fidgeted with her engagement ring before she slipped it off and let it fall to the floor. The boldness of the move left you momentarily frozen until you were pulled to your feet by your waist and felt a pair of lips ghosting over yours, "And if you'll have me, I want you."

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[therealslimshakespeare]

The kids aren’t alright

Summary: Ida wakes up and takes stock

October 1943

Requested? ✅ 18+ mature (thematic material)

Warnings: a lot of bodily injuries mentioned, way too much use of vomiting sorry, mentions of an intentional dog bite, past references to sexual abuse, very brief mention of an object being used to rape someone…if you read that sentence? it’s about that bad, I tried to keep it vague

When Ida woke for the first time, well and truly and fully, it was to the feeling of muggy warmth and a comforting snugness pressing to her chest. Her body ached but only in the way that suggested that moving would make it far worse, and so she tried to remain still, clock her surroundings, its smells and noises and the likely extent of her injuries by pain alone. Her cheek hurt the worst, a raw sort of agony that increased with each breath until she switched to inhaling through her mouth to make it stop, her right rib smarted in the way of an open cut, and her mind scrambled to supply a cause for this, quicker than it had for her cheek. Most sluggishly it tried to alert her to the all encompassing throb of her pelvis, a pain too intense and easily provoked by thought alone that she summarily shoved it down for the time being.

She would try to open her eyes, and then move off her cheek, and if that was possible, only then perhaps could she shift her hips. Her lower belly felt as if filled with glass shards, and if she were to jostle them, they might begin slitting her open anew. Take a peak Ida, she told herself, see where you are, see who is near.

With that plan of action barely in place, Ida willed an eyelid open.

Foggy sunlight filtered in, wether the window pane was filthy or the weather overcast she could not discern, but there was a blurry expanse of lumber before her and as things began to slot in place she recognized the camp. Not the horrid one, no, the stalag, the prisoner of war camp -she had made it, they had all made it. Almost all, that poor corporal and her warm brains hadn’t. The nurse either. Forsyth either.

There were bunks and lumber and a fuzzy stack of dishes and someone moving in a chair at a hulking object that was likely a table.

She held her breath, hoping her vision might clear if the smarting of her cheek would stop, and in response the arms that seemed to be bracing her together squeezed all the tighter. She let out a grunt of pain at it and moved her frozen hand to tap at the large paw interlaced over her sternum.

She really shouldn't be able to guess its owner so accurately considering the professional nature of the relationship they shared, yet she could: "I see you decided to join us, Egan." she rasped, throat feeling made of sandpaper.

The iron tight grip spasmed in response before loosening. "Oh hell Ida,” Bucky sighed heavily behind her, “scared me, ya stopped breathin’, -thought you were dead there for a minute."

"So you already took over my bunk?" she was passibly amused by his presumption, it was too relieving that he was even alive.

Whoever was at the table rose and came nearer.

"No,” Bucky countered firmly, “I didn't want them to find you cold and take your body away."

That was touching. And like him. She must’ve been in poor shape. "Bucky, you've got the heart of a child."

The figure from the table stooped over her and the back of a gentle hand she’d know anywhere, ran along her hairline, “Hey.” her brother greeted softly and Ida felt a sudden burn to her eyes at the relief of seeing his cherished face and feeling his doting touch. She knew she had met him, reunited with him here, but it was such a blur and she had no idea how long she’d been out for. It hit her now, Johnny and Bucky had her. She was alright, and so were they.

“Jack.” she croaked to him, trying to kiss his knuckles in sheer gratitude to their creator for allowing them both a little longer together. “Johnny you- you’re ok? And you’ve got legs.” she reaffirmed to herself and he laughed in agreement, watery and happy.

“Yeah,” he got to his knees by her bunk so they might be at eye level, his grin the homiest thing she’d ever seen, “all in one piece. God, it’s good to see you awake, Ida. You ok? Want some water?”

She could manage a nod but was loathe to let go of him, Johnny only managed to laughingly extract himself after he’d kissed her forehead twice over and “-jug is just on the table, I’m not going far-“

“Is everyone alright?” she asked of them both as he went to fetch it, tracing over the broken skin of Egan’s knuckles, the one part of him she could see without shifting. She wondered how he’d gotten here, how long after. “Everyone? My girls are -are my girls ok?”

“All settled, all fine.” Johnny assured her as he kneeled back down, tin cup filled with the brackish camp water they’d taken to filtering through an undershirt. It was the best they had to offer. “Cleven’s got all sorts of measures in place, there’s been no trouble.”

“How long?” She sighed in relief, trying to find the strength to lift her head and take a sip. “How long have I been out?” Her girls had needed her and she’d crashed on them, they’d asked for bunks and remedies and they’d barely managed a shower before she’d abandoned them for her bed.

“Almost two weeks, Eye Eye.” Johnny whispered as if that blunted the news, Ida startled predictably and Bucky Egan made a soothing sound like she were a pet to be calmed. “You need to drink.” Johnny observed practically in reference to the timeframe and she supposed he was right and let him help tilt her jaw and bring the rim to her lips, Bucky’s hand came up from somewhere in back to prop up her heavy head.

As thirsty as she was, the bitter tang of metallic water was not at all what she had dreamed of when it first sloshed against her lips. She forced gulp after gulp of it down, grateful for it and all too reminiscent of recent times without, but it was revolting. No sooner had she pulled away to gain some upper hand on the rising nausea than she felt the surging of bile instead, faster than she could process, much less tamp down.

Something in her face must’ve shown as her observant brother tumbled backward on the floor with a flailing hand that grasped for any receptacle available, right as she wheezed out a warning “bucket!”

Her face felt horrible, and her stomach hated the rough and involuntary movements that puking required. Ida groaned weakly between bouts but it kept coming -the urge that is, after the water came up there was nothing else besides bile. Johnny had managed to grab something, although Ida was too preoccupied vomiting and keening in agony to notice what. She puked in the general direction of his lap and hoped for the best, the grounding feeling of his hand cupping her battered cheek the only thing tethering her in the pain.

For a moment Ida had the displaced thought that her brother was helping hold back her hair. But the feel of his fingertips against the lacerations on her tender scalp reminded her she hadn’t any. And that memory brought another wave of revulsion and she wretched all the harder. She was in this state, in this much plain, out cold for two weeks because of what those men had done to her. Oh god, did everyone know what they had done to her—

“Breathe, you’ve got to breathe.” Egan was gripping her chest again and it made it worse except now she could feel herself shaking and that brief, spiraling moment of numbness began to dissipate and she almost mourned it as the pain returned and she sobbed into her next retch. “That’s it, that’s it, shitty water is all, Johnny’s gonna get you some sparkling, aren’t ya Johnny? Yeah, yeah breathe Ida, breathe.”

She had to stop sobbing. It was pathetic at this point, she was perfectly safe now and all that harmed her was a little brackish water and a sour stomach. She breathed as told and blinked the water out of her eyes. “Johnny, that's a damn plate.” she scolded, now noticing what he’d grabbed, “I said a bucket.”

Johnny smiled back ruefully, “Wasn't one close.”

“Now you've got -I’ve made a mess of you,” she cried, contrite herself, “that’s disgusting.”

Johnny shrugged and set the full plate aside, brave face in place despite the gnarly nature of the incident. “Seen worse.”

Ida just stared at his lap and the odd pattern of criss cross stitches on his trouser seams and the rusty stains all along them. What had they done- “Johnny your pants-“ she didn’t even notice the way she tried to rise in her agitation until Bucky’s firm hand came again from the back like the spectral arm of God and pushed her down once again. “What did they do to you?” she was back to numb at the horror of it and this time she didn’t like it.

John Brady stared at her and then back to his lap before jerking with horrified realization, “No, no these -these are yours.” he rushed, utterly unsure that was actually a comfort, wishing in fact that they were his and he’d have borne their significance for her, “I gave you mine while we mended yours. Now they’ve got vomit on ‘em too.” he tried to grin, to make the joke they were his work pants now, best used for the grittier duties in camp, an eyesore no matter what and rather talked of. He preferred to be the one wearing them, the one talked of instead of her, it was all untrue speculation in that case and the guards’ taunts were empty and without real history while he wore them. “These are yours.”

“You two lanky lil shits.” Bucky mumbled to break the tension. “Not an ounce of butter fat on either of you.”

“Are you done puking?” Johnny asked her conversationally.

“I think.” she muttered.

“Ok, put your head back down. Can’t keep holding your cheek.”

“Don’t have to,” she protested even as she lay back down, face on fire by the lack of incline, “the hell is wrong with it?” she groaned.

“The doc says your cheekbone’s broken.” Egan supplied.

A flash of a table rising up too fast and her cheek slammed down against it, of a hand in her hair and a man, one of many strong and large men, pressing down on her head over and over, the pressure on her face too strong and finally making way with a sickening give just like other places had given way when they— Ida felt like retching again but for Johnny’s sake she was glad nothing more came up, although his hand was back to holding her cheek together.

“The recommendation was not to exert the facial muscles.” Johnny snarked.

Ida willed her mind away, “Noted.” and began to wonder at how this camp worked, “What sorta doctor?” it seemed odd no one had hauled her off for two whole weeks, not to a grave and not to surgery. Maybe not that odd, Egan had been in her bunk. And Cleven would have never let them. But she’d have never allowed so many things and yet -they happened all the same.

“There’s that med student pilot from the 418th,” Egan told her, “everyone calls him doc around here since we haven’t got any medics. Shitty oversight in the air, fatal on the ground. It’s him or camp doctor, and we didn’t want him gettin’ curious over you.”

“Major Cleven wouldn’t let them take you.” Johnny told her what she already suspected and Ida felt like smiling despite the way it hurt her cheek.

“Everyone’s really alright?” she asked once more.

“Yeah, everyone’s fine.” her bother swore, “Except for you, you’re our biggest worry.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t use that tone with me.”

“Then don’t lie.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Alright, but you’re not currently fine.”

“You and your distinctions.”

“You and the pants you’ve worn for two weeks.”

Ida gaped, knowing and loving his sharp tongue but having missed it all the same, “Well that’s -that’s low, Jack.”

“I’ll get Smith in.” he decided after sharing a look with Bucky over her shoulder, she wished she could see Egan’s face, something made her suspect foul play beyond boredom for him to be in her bunk. “You haven’t stopped -bleeding.” he winced, wether in sympathy or in discomfort over the topic, she could only guess it was both.

“Well get me up, sit me up.” she asked first, her curiosity regarding her own damage growing and she didn’t need dear Tallulah to see her freshly puked and still lying like a corpse. She could sit up if she was going to remain conscious. “It’ll make the cheek feel better.” She cajoled her brother in the most effective manner -logic- and so he assisted her to sit up against the slats.

“Bucket.” she warned again because her vision was spotting and her stomach rose at the painful change in position but it felt good to be up, and Johnny handed her an actual bucket to dry heave over. The irony was not lost on her.

When the feeling passed she found she was looking down at Egan, that he hadn’t moved with her and he still lay on his side, garish green bruise around his eye and a grimacing smile stretching that still pristine mustache. Well, it needed some trimming at the corners, her fingers itched to straighten them. “Ribs are a little cracked.” he offered in explanation before she could ask.

“Yeah he’s not supposed to move much.” Her Johnny expounded and Ida didn’t doubt this was a source of much argument between them, she could tell by the familiar, bitchy tone and the look Johnny gave his superior, one just short of wry enough to get him court martialed. Ida realized with sudden sobriety that she would be stuck in close proximity with this duo for the foreseeable future.

Mother Mary give her grace.

“Where do you pee?” she asked, it was a decent segue and it was also a pressing issue, mounting over even the horrible ache down there.

“Uh,” Johnny floundered for a minute, “pretty loose around here but -there are latrines.” Ida could picture the sheer amount of pissing against stumps and combines that likely occurred here instead, “You’re not walking there, not today. We’ve got buckets, girls use those mainly.”

Ida stared at the bucket clutched in her arms, still there in case of another upset. Right, alright. Buckets.

“Brady, get Smith.” Egan directed helpfully and her brother roused himself and went out into the hall.

Ida waited until the sound of his footfalls faded thoroughly before bringing her hand down to rest on Bucky’s shining forehead, he felt feverish, or maybe it was only oily. “How is he?” she asked. “Really, Bucky, how is he handling it all?”

“He’s a champ.” Bucky replied levelly, before giving her a gentle look, “A champ who’s cried a few times. I’ve been giving him too much trouble to ask him what he thinks about having a battered sister, if that’s what you mean. But he’s ok, you know him. He’s okey.”

“Alright.” she muttered, staring down at her lap, noticing the stains she’d made on his trousers. Poor Jack, she didn’t know how she could bear it if it were the other way around.

Bucky waited a beat before adding softly, “He asked me what to tell your parents.”

That startled her, the idea of letters, of news, of more than anyone here knowing, “What did you-?”

“I told him to tell them you’re alive.” he answered and she took a great breath, “And that you two were together. The facts of the matter.”

Well that was another kindness. “Thanks.” she managed.

“Hey, you just worry about gettin’ better.” He charged her, hand nudging gently under her chin, mindful of the bruises.

She gave him a grin despite her cheek protesting, “Back at ya, Egan.”

“Race ya?” he suggested.

“Race to what?”

“To the latrines. Whoever can get fit fastest wins. I’m sick to fuckin’ death of pissing in a can he wants to hold like I’m past ninety and should be put out to pasture -now you’re awake it’s gonna be even funner.”

Ida thought about asking if he’d really been relieving himself in bed beside her, to ask who’d been cleaning her in the meantime, but some familiarity was best left mysterious and the stomping sounds of approaching persons made her pause.

“Great, he brought a crowd.” Bucky muttered without heat and sure enough, Smith came skidding in like Mary Magdalene at the empty tomb, and behind her Johnny, Cleven and Graham.

“Ta-daa.” Ida vocalized weakly, feeling mildly possessed by the spirit of Kendeigh to make a drama of it all -it was only that they looked so ridiculously hopeful and small crowding the doorway like that.

Gale slapped the doorframe and buried his face in the crook of his arm, something like a rough laugh coming out, “I’ll be damned.”

“Well Graham, you’ve seen her breathing, go, come on go, we asked for Smith.” Bucky good naturedly snapped his fingers dismissively.

“Good to see you Graham.” Ida called to her poor Co-Pilot who was fast not to loiter.

Tallulah Smith gently crept up to her bunk and sank to her knees beside her, sweet face still a little mottled but the old pearl white smile in place. Missing a tooth. A jolt of heartache ran through her— “Ida.”

“Hey old thing.” Ida smiled back, or tried.

“God it’s good to see -to see you.” Smith settled for before dropping her face to kiss Ida’s unwashed hands. Poor kid, Ida was sure Cleven was looking after her but he didn’t know the half of it. All these weeks she was needed and Ida had failed her.

“Hey, hey you guys get me up, I’m getting cramp.” Bucky hollered to Brady and Buck.

“You’re not supposed to move Bucky-“

“Johnny -I’m not going on a goddamn journey. I just wanna walk in the hall and piss on the doorframe like everyone else. C’mon get me up.”

Ida and Smith crouched further into the bed to allow Egan to lumber over them with the help of their friends, a painful, grunting business that suggested his leg was busted along with his ribs. He was leaving to give the girls privacy, Ida knew it, and perhaps her brother had picked up on it as he stopped protesting and shouldered his weight uncomplaining.

“See you dolls later.” he saluted as they dragged him out.

It was bizarre to have the room to themselves when the door shut. The door had a window, and that gave Ida the creeps but it couldn’t be helped.

“They aren’t going out, they’ll stand watch.” Smith whispered assuringly as if she could read Ida’s mind. “We’re all in this combine with just one’s from the 100th. Cleven insisted. I don’t know how he gets half of what he gets done but he’s been so good to us.”

Ida stared at her hands intertwined with Lu’s and nodded gently, never doubting that would be the case. She just worried for him, she hoped it meant their guards were fair, or at least the commandant. But she recalled Cleven saying he’d stayed clear of the fellow, kept his head down, not sought attention -until the girls came, now he no doubt made himself familiar. It made her pulse pound in worry for him. She hoped the commander was fair, that was the whole point of getting to a stalag.

“And you?” Ida asked, knowing that of everyone, Smith was perhaps the only one who’d like to be asked.

She watched the girl perk up, brave cheerfulness fluttering across her features, no less genuine for all that it was forced, “I’m ok. It’s easier here but I can’t sleep much, and I’m so scared it’s going to happen again. There’s dogs everywhere.”

Ida winced at that. “Cleven won’t let that happen.” she insisted gently, “You stick with who he puts you with and if they don’t stick with you then you tell him, he’ll get someone else. Really Smith, speak up.”

“Ok.” she muttered, “It’s been Murph or Crank so far, they’re never away.”

“Good.”

“It’s just-“ Smith’s deep brown eyes grew watery and Ida braced, “-what can they do? If the Germans really wanna? What can they actually do about it? I don’t think -oh Ida I don’t think I could take it, the way they did it in front of you -I couldnt take it, not in front of our boys. I’d wanna die this time, I would. I’d wanna die.”

It hurt, the heavy pressure of Smith’s face buried in Ida’s wounded belly, but the poor girl was suddenly sobbing and Ida impulsively ran her fingers through oily black strands, humming gently and ineffectively. What was there to say about that? What could she say to that? “Everyone here would die before watching that, Lu.” was all she could come up with, but it was true as truth could be. “And they can’t shoot up a whole stalag, they can’t,” she went on, it was soothing to hear herself spout such ephimerally comforting bulshit, “so, if they tried, that’s a dead end. Not gonna happen ever again, Smith, it won’t. We won’t let it.”

Smith turned her head, looking not a day older than her eighteen years and smiled back, soft and sad, “Ok.” she accepted, and Ida knew it was more for her benefit than real belief, “I just worry someone is gonna still have to-“ she quieted down in frustration with herself, “-sorry I’m so glum.”

Ida squeezed her hands strongly, “No, no, you’re right. It’s very uneasy, and it will be for as long as we’re on this side of our lines. What were you saying?”

Smith bit her lip thoughtfully before quietly confessing, “I worry someone else may still have to. The guards aren’t as bad but they seem -I’m paranoid, I know. But I also -oh Ida, I shouldn’t say. He said I shouldn’t say but-“ she was back near to crying.

“Telling your senior officer is like telling a priest.” Ida reasoned softly, teasingly, “There is no harm and there is no record.”

“I’m Baptist.” Smith laughed.

“Unburden yourself, my child.” Ida insisted, mouth wry with sad humor. “That’s an order, Lu.”

“It’s Major Cleven.” Smith got right to it, “I’m afraid someone hurt him. The way they hurt us. Before we got here. And I’m worried if that person is here, I’m worried that- I’m worried that it’ll be someone, if not me again, it’ll be someone else.”

“You’re not paranoid.” Ida muttured, cold dread seeping in along with fury, she counted to five before asking as casually as she was capable, “When he told you not to tell, what -what all did he say?”

“Not much, really,” Tallulah admitted with frustration, “it’s just he came to check on me, first night in and we were alone in the hall and I told him a little, since he asked, he’s always so kind and he was kind then. But he told me he understood, and then right away it was like he regretted it. Saying that, you know? And I asked him, if they’d hurt him like that and -h-he was so shaken by it, and he told me I shouldn’t ever talk like that. He didn’t said no, he just kept saying I couldn’t say that. About him.”

Ida felt her stomach plummet and she clutched at the bucket as if there was anything left to puke up.

“Ida I’m sorry- I should've waited.” Tallulah fretted at her agitation.

“No!” Ida’s voice came stronger than even she expected, “No you’re right to tell me. I’m his officer too, you know. You’re right to tell me.” she repeated before trying to straighten herself, make Smith look her in the eyes, “And now, Lieutenant, I need you to let this go, alright? Really, you’ve done the right thing now, give it over, let it go. He might not have meant that, might’ve meant anything, really. Try not to dwell on it. Any of it, if you can.”

Smith rubbed her hand beneath her nose gruffly while murmuring a “yessir.” She was back to smiling when the hand descended. “Now, what can I help with?” she asked, cheered at the chance of lending aid.

“I need to pee.”

“Oh gosh, sorry-“ Smith laughed at herself and her poor timing for a confession.

“It’s alright, it’s alright.” Ida joined in, “This is going to hurt like hell, I do believe.”

Smith winced in sympathy, “Yeah, still hurts for me.”

“No, truly?” Ida mourned through gritted teeth, depending on Smith’s arms to scootch to the edge of the threadbare mattress.

“Yeah. A little better after a week but not, it’s just -it’s stayed since. You’re still bleeding, though.”

Ida stared down at her bloodied crotch. “Yes.” she hissed, “I’d like to -take a look. Any mirror: in here?”

“No sir. Sorry.”

“Anyone else bleeding like this?”

“No one besides Kendeigh, got her period.” Smiths cheeks turned pink at the mention of normality.

“Ah, small mercies.”

“Yes. Try telling her that, sir.”

“Have you gotten yours, Lu?”

“No sir.” Pinker still under that dusky brown.

“Mm.”

“I could check?”

“What?”

“I could be your mirror.” Smith clarified, sheepishly as she got Ida up, arm around her neck, her officer about crumpling at the pain of standing.

Ida grimaced again at the mere notion. “Bit above your pay grade.”

“I’m a lieutenant.” Smith shook her head proudly before adding, “Besides -nothing I haven’t seen on the farm.”

“Oh thanks a lot.”

“I didn’t mean-“

“Joking, Smith, I’m joking.”

“Oh. Ha.”

“I’d not be so concerned,” Ida went on, shuffling towards the bucket in the corner of the room where it sat between two bunks, “if I didn’t suspect a little -tearing.” she muttered, humiliation burning her cheek and adding to the throb. “There was a, uh-“ god, she shouldn’t tell a subordinate this but they hadn’t any mirrors, “there was a knife. And, I-i- think they, it wasn’t the blade but the handle and it -still it felt like…Well, everything got even worse after that.”

“Oh Ida.” Smith whimpered in compassion.

“Oh stop it, you of all people don’t need to feel bad for me.” Ida squeezed her shoulder, the one supporting her weight. “It’s just I really don’t know what to expect. What’s normal. Yes? To bleed is normal, we always hear that but. How long, how much, you know? My brother seems to think it’s too much. How would he know?” she snickered briefly before ceasing at the sight of Smith’s solemn face. Ida was reminded of when she’d first met her as a little recruit, keen eyed and perceptive in training, Tallulah Smith had been so freshly out of the nest she’d delightedly blown up her standard issued rubbers and tossed them around their hut, charmed by the army’s thoughtfulness to provide balloons along with toothbrushes. Not even the worst of the cads had said a thing to dissuade her and Benny DeMarco had followed suit, even going so far as to lie that he’d been additionally given bubbles since he was more senior.

When the day came that Bucky had pinned Smith her single bar on her jacket, he handed her a tube of bubbles, too.

Five weeks before it all went to hell.

Now Smith wore a shy little look, one Ida remembered well from when she’d had to break it to the girl what the damn balloons were really for. Today, if it were anyone else, Ida would have ignored that look.

“What do you want to ask?” She called her out.

“Can I?”

“Yes.”

Smith helped her fumble with her belt buckle, trousers loose and low on her waist, not even Johnny’s trim figure a match for the weight Ida had lost in her convalescence. “Was this-“ Ida could only see Smith’s eyebrows and the beautiful flat bridge of her proud nose, “-was this your first, too?”

Ida had never once felt shame, inadequacy, anything other than a natural state over her own purity. It was a conscious decision and a matter of habit, she might have disposed of her virginity had she wished but she never had, never saw fit, never felt the lack of knowing. There were handsome men, and if they were worth the loss of her convictions, her standing and self respect, she might have enjoyed hopping on them as her baser first instincts suggested. As is, she had not, and life had felt perfectly fine and full without that knowledge. One day, she had told herself, maybe one day there’d be someone right and worthy and fitting. Suddenly it felt so very embarrassing to have known nothing more than this, to pretend authority and yet not even know this intimate response of her own body. She could still hear the disbelieving glee of the guards at the same realization.

A female colonel. Who was a virgin. What a lark.

Yet if it served to comfort Smith? Provide some solidarity not even Maureen’s brazen bravery could supply? Ida meant to give it her. “Yes, my first. I’ve never done anything of the sort before.” it served to be plain, to be thorough.

She was rewarded with the lifting of Lu’s face, mournful shyness fading into relief before compassion flickered again. “How do you want me to look?”

Ida ended up propping a foot up on an adjacent bunk, slacks around her ankles, face buried in her elbow as Smith crouched with veterinary efficiency and peeled her apart down there. Ida stifled an involuntary whimper into her fist, not so much from pain as the jolting feeling of that area being touched again.

“I honestly can’t tell much.” Smith sighed, standing up again and it took Ida a good long minute to regain enough composure to pull her face out of her elbow and meet her eyes. Smith wasn’t looking at her anyway, “It’s bloody. But not a lot. I can’t tell about tearing, not on the outside at least.”

“Alright.”

“Here, let me help you squat.” Smith was at the ready with strong arms for Ida to squat over the bucket and do her business, as best she could between sobs at the pain of urinating with some much adjacent damage.

“Are Kendeigh’s hands alright?” Ida thought to ask once Smith had helped pull her up. Piss and blood swirled at the bottom of the metal pail, it turned Ida’s stomach, a foreign queasiness having seemingly settled over her.

“I had to set a few fingers,” Smith replied, “Hammy helped me. But the swelling is going down.”

“Good.” Ida muttured, redoing her belt with Lu’s help, “Now,” she stalled the girl, “how’s the bite mark?”

Smith’s bronze face flushed darker. No doubt she hoped Ida had forgotten, no such luck -Ida expected to replay that scene a million times in her nightmares for the rest of her life.

“Your brother got us penicillin.” Lu rushed to assure her.

“Did he?”

“Yes!”

“How nice. Shots?”

“Yes.” Smith smiled brilliantly, “The boys they’ve -they’ve been so wonderful.”

“Excellent.” Ida agreed.

“Major Cleven said we could-“ Smith’s eyes fluttered aside, “-could get sick from the guards. I didn’t know but -he said the shots would help.”

Ida clasped her arm soothingly, squeezing it until the girl’s eyes came back to life, “He’s right. Good to take precautions. What've they said about the bite?

No answer came. Of course the girl hadn’t even told them. Ida could curse herself for falling asleep so long on the job.

“How’s the bite, Lu?” she insisted on being answered.

Smith sighed, defeated, “It’s -a little festered.”

“How much is a little?” Ida quirked a brow. “C’mon, show me.”

Lu begrudgingly undid her buttons and pulled the placard aside, showing the deep imprint of a canine bite to her breast. Partly healed but angry and hot to touch, Ida suspected it strongly. At least it didn’t smell. “Have you been seen for this?” she asked once more.

Smith shook her head. “They say the doctor is not good.”

“How’d Jack get penicillin then?”

“Well -I don’t know. But he told me never to go.”

Ida resigned herself to feeling perpetually on the verge of emptying her guts in this place. “You either need more or some sulfer, I’d say, but then, I’m no doctor.”

“The boys have been wonderful!” Lu reaffirmed as if that changed anything while refastening her shirt. Ida shuffled back to the bed and sat herself down too fast, wanting to let rip a scream at the pain. “Gale looks after us and Jack gets the medicines and Bucky has been so watchful even from bed and Crank and Murph -I told you how they’ve been so good to me.”

Ida summoned a smile for the girl. The things she was concerned about were an officer's concerns, it was right for Smith to be soothed by stuff like this, it was right she be taken good care of. Whatever it cost the men, whatever it cost her brother. She forced her smile to stay in place. “Good.” Ida confirmed assuringly, “I’m glad to hear it. As they should be. You know that, don’t you? They should be good to you, and it’s not too much to expect that they should.” she let that sink in a minute before adding her point, “Some men aren't, and that’s why we're here in the first place. -And, personally, I like to think about how many of those scumbags we’ve turned to crisps, you and I. Job well done, mm?”

Smith grinned back, “Yes sir, job well done.”

“Mm, alright, now you go get Gale Cleven for me.”

“Sir.” Lu seemed torn, half alarmed.

“I’m not going to broach that topic, I need medicines.” Ida gave her a warning look, too much questioning on her sick bed and she’d turn into nothing more impressive than a half starved woman with no rank.

“Yes sir. I’ll get him sir.”

“And when you’ve fetched him,” Ida went on, “Go make certain Bucky is off his ribs. No baseball, no big movements, not even to retell a story. Got it?”

“I got it.”

“Alright, off you go. And Smith,” she added when the girl was near the door, “thank you, for the care. And speak up, alright? When you need something, speak up.”

Smith ducked her head sheepishly, nodding in obedience, “Sir.”

It would seem Ida needed a word with Gale Cleven regarding tough little lieutenants with a tendency for sepsis.

A solitary set of footsteps broke the eerie silence left after Smith's departure. Ida took stock of the room as best she could, who seemed to be bunking with them, what clutter was on the shelves, that the dishes were indeed stacked as she imagined on waking. She heard the rap of his knuckles on the door frame before the lanky line of him sauntered in, hand on the overhead plank, just looking at her pleased and a little mischievous. Gosh he was a sight for sore eyes and a heart aching one all at once. Where he’d once been golden and blooming, he was as gray as his shirt. How would they fare in winter if they started autumn so sallow?

“Major Gale Cleven, reporting for duty.” he teased, somber gray eyes lit up boyishly like they did when he wanted to be taken at the jokes’ value.

Ida grinned back at him as best she could with her broken cheek, “Bucky not follow you?”

“Nah,” Cleven came in, picking a chair up by its slatted back and bringing it to her bedside, straddled it, “he heard I was called for. He’s plagued you enough.” Nothing dimmed that fond smile despite the exasperated words.

“Cannot believe he took over my bunk.” Ida observed.

Gale’s smile fell. “Really didn’t know if you were gonna make it, Ida.” he insisted gently, firmly. “Are ya now?”

Ida wanted to chuckle, feeling more horrible than she knew she could but after all this time she wasn’t going to die on him now. Not now she knew how needed she was. Remained needed. How much he’d endured, possibly, she had to remember it was only possible. “I’m sticking around.” she affirmed, and his smile came back, dimmer but still there. “And you?” she asked, not expecting the truth but she had to try.

The upbeat grin that painted his face was worthy of an Oscar. “Fine. Much better to see you alive, John too. Both of you been out for ages.”

“Sorry about that.” she feared more and more what burdens he had to bear alone, and what precedent that set for the remainder of their time here. Once Gale Cleven had shouldered a responsibility, he wasn’t one to delegate, even if overtaxed. “How is the commandant? Smith has told me what you’ve achieved.”

Cleven’s face wore an expression of pleasant surprise as if he were relaying pleasant findings for the first time, “Most decent German I’ve met.” His tone held such genuine relief that Ida had to believe him. “Supplies are scarce. They've shot enough of us down in short enough order it’s all a bit much for the Red Cross.” he let that dismal statistic hang for a brief moment before rallying, “But he’s fair, shares my low opinion of his subordinates. No real incidents but, they leer and they’re harsh. No girls can go out alone, I’ve laid the order down. Been no harm.”

Ida observed him, familiar chubby cheeked crinkling with what seemed genuine pleasantness, and she had gotten rather genius at deciphering that boyish face after years of training and laconic friendship. “What does he want in return?” she asked.

“Order.” Gale had an answer right away, “He’s got a massive thing going here, he wants order and he wants no complaints about females. So, I want the girls accompanied -he wants them accompanied. It works.”

Maybe there was honor among villains after all. “Good. How’s Maureen?”

Gale bit his lip before shrugging, “Alright, settling in, getting everyone else settled. We got shots for everyone and she’s had us cleaning the place, fussing about wintertime and how all the water to mop will freeze up then. Hands aren’t back fully.” he paused for a brief moment before glancing up, shyly, “You got any explanation for those?”

No more than he had given for his cuts. “She’s told you. As much as she’s told me. I don’t think anyone hasn’t got a story. Or ten.”

“Bucky’s having trouble with that.” It was a comment, not a warning or a complaint.

She might’ve guessed. “And my brother? He proving of any use?”

Gale’s pale skin seemed to color at that and his eyes skittered to the side, briefly, before he recalled himself, “He’s a damn bulldog with a task. Been -been real essential.”

“With the doctor I hear.” Ida ventured, “Smith told me.” and Gale nodded in understanding, “She also told me she’d been warned never to go herself. Which brings up a few issues.”

“Colonel?” Gale frowned at her like something she said was puzzling.

“I’ve got girls who need to see a doctor. Should be in the infirmary -hell I oughta be.”

Cleven just shook his head, “They tolerate the girls here, so long as you’re not anything more than a number. Ida, we can’t attract attention that way. We got shots, Johnny’ll get more. He’ll get -Anything.”

“And how’s Johnny gonna get ‘anything’ for me, mm?”

Cleven didn’t have an answer for that, he just looked terribly tired. “Tell us, we’ll get it but I can’t condone lettin’ a woman go there.”

Ida tried to settle her stomach, a laundry list of worries a mile long had begun to arrange themselves in her mind and by the size of Cleven’s eyebags, he carried them too. She had to prioritize, if only she wasn’t so very tired and practically an invalid. “Then I need your promise to be tenacious in the care of someone who ought’ve been in hospital weeks ago.”

He cocked his head to the side, alarm at the unknown flitting across his face, he looked her up and down as if anticipating she would name herself.

“Smith has what looks like a raging infection.” Ida stated.

Well that got him startled, confused and a little irate. His blue eyes widened, “Looks like.” he repeated. “-where? From what?”

“And she’s not told a soul.” Ida observed with an eyebrow that only slightly accused, it was lethal enough on Gale’s frail morale, “As she’s a stubborn thing and also -shy.”

Gale knew Lu to be both. He had taken pains to ask after her the night she came in with that express suspicion in mind. “I asked her.” He swore.

“She says she asked you the same.” Ida bounced the hypothetical tennis ball right back, quite casually she thought, and Gale gave her a wary, unreadable look. There went that topic for the present, Smith had to come first. “No, this is a dog bite. More like a maul, a gash, it’s horrid.”

“What?” The chair under Gale creaked from his irate posture. “They let loose a dog on her!”

“Set.” Ida corrected, straight mouth going even sourer, “They set a dog on her. Now it’s hot and pink and awful. Since she didn’t tell a soul and no one noticed somehow.”

“I-I-“ Gale wasn’t in a fluster to defend himself, Ida knew him better than to think that, he was merely in some disbelief at the cruelty, “I- gave her a shot, in the hip. Didn’t see-“

“It’s her breast, Gale.” Ida gently interjected, “Reasonable not for her to be eager to show. But it must’ve been stubborn pride or some assumption of a better lot that had her keeping it from Maureen.”

Gale took to pinching the bridge of his nose, a nervous tick Ida knew well, and it served to steady his hand, pinch away a budding migraine and hide the tell-tale windows of his eyes. “They set a dog on her -on her, to- and it tore her?” he couldn’t even get it out and she felt for him.

But he had the right of it. “Yes. And it needs something. Sulfer ointment? I don’t know. It’s why a doctor would be preferred. It could get septic-“

“I know damnit!” Gale still shaded eyes from her as his voice shook. “Why didn’t she-“ it trailed off, weary and rough.

Ida pursed her lips and swallowed back a dozen things she wanted to say: apologies and reassurances, demands that he tell her what he himself had endured. “I’m sorry you’ve got so much to be done.” she offered instead, mildly and with some gentleness she hoped she’d retained. “I’m sure Kendeigh will be a great help with this. I only ask you keep after Smith about it-“

“-I don’t mind the work.” Gale lifted his hand at last and his eyes were red rimmed, “You know I don’t mind the work.”

“No.” she agreed. It was only the sort of work. It was the hapless, thankless, hopeless work of piecing together friends who had been intentionally smashed to bits by a handful of demons. It was never about the work. “And you are to bring as much of it to me as you can. That’s an order, Major.” At least that got her a small smile, a conceding nod, “And I have my spies, you know.”

“Oh I know.”

“I can’t wait to be about. Help with it all.”

“Just try’n live Ida, if you can.” Gale laughed, short and clipped, “Seemed a lot to ask of ya just last night. Don’t wanna push my luck.”

“I’ve ordered you to push your luck.” she reminded. “And now, don’t you think it’s time we stop Bucky from thinking of things to keep everyone outside?”

💋 Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, please feel free to scream in comments or the inbox, I love it and wanna hear it all. Trust me, nothing is “too dumb”. Your thoughts mean the world to me.

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[tactical-jellyfish]

Watcher 1-1

Part Seven <3

Warnings!: The 141 will be criminally stupid, fumblers, all of them. Death (canon-typical), Violence (canon-typical), loss of limb (I will cover the symptoms as well as possible, but any and all corrections are welcome) They do get kissy, but no smut (that I'm writing, but it's very much implied).

Warnings for this specific chapter: (technically) main character death, written descriptions of injury, gore and blood talk. Included reference and experience with post-surgery symptoms of various degrees of seriousness. One character affectionately refers to another character as "slutbag"

Keegan is a good man.

You learn this quickly, as you get into moderate, common spats with the United States healthcare system.

In the days that narrowly follow the surgery, when you're more often unconscious than awake, you often wake with the nurse (technically certified, but you really have no idea if he actually works here) at your bedside who's just... doing whatever in the corner.

You're lucky you haven't been snippy enough to shove him away from you, just yet.

In your own defense, your dignity has been directly removed by most of this terrible shit.

You can't even get up to use the bathroom, anymore. It's a bedpan.

And apparently, you're still lucky. Because you're going to get your drainage tube out of the lovely leg wound in a few days.

You are, for all intents and purposes, about to kill someone or yourself. But Keegan is still often there, answering your questions or giving you just a bit of humor to hold onto as you go increasingly stir-crazy from waiting for Laswell to finally come and give you the rundown of the tatters that must remain of your career.

If you got lucky, she wouldn't be too upset. Maybe, if you were really lucky, she would tell you where the boys are. Why none of them have dropped in to see you yet.

It'd only be another week. You weren't sure you could last that long.

As if an angel somewhere has answered this thought, the door opens again.

"Hey, slutbag. I finally found you some enrichment."

Keegan's voice is playful, and he wears a shit-eating grin as he tosses a small bag to your bed, hitting you almost-square in the chest.

"Mm. Poor aim, Mr. Russ."

You may be tired, in pain, and you may be in a frankly terrible mood, but that doesn't mean you're not funny. Your name isn't Price.

Still, you open the little bag, and there's a box inside. You open that too, as Keegan plops himself in the chair that hurts his back because he can't be assed to bring in something better.

It's... a lock, casted out of clear plastic, with a small set of tools to pick it. Also a set of keys, which you already know you'll refuse to use for pride's sake.

Two watchful, fond blue eyes are scanning your motions and you can feel him smile, without even looking.

"I could have given you a manual, but I think you'd like it better to do it all yourself. Was I right?"

The tool's handle is smooth as you hold the lock steady, fighting to not immediately fiddle with the thing in front of Keegan. He would be too damned smug about it.

"...Thank you, Russ."

He did deserve that thanks, as far as you thought. You were pathetic right now, useless and bed-bound and panicky. And still, Keegan was willing to look upon you, he still willingly chooses to see you.

This thank you encompasses all of those things. You know you've been less than fun. Less than useful. And you know Keegan deserves to know that he's been good to you. Better than you've ever deserved.

He's quiet, for a time, but then you hear a warm chuckle as he reaches forward to give you a gentle pat on the shoulder.

"Don't say that like you owe me anything, kid," You really should interrupt him, tell him that, if you're not older than him, you definitely outrank him, but you don't. "You're much better than working in a shit-hole like this."

Your eyes find his, and you can see him smile as he lowers his mask. You're noticed that he only seems to do this in the room, with you. And only when you're both alone.

"...I know some people who could change that."

"Really?"

"I'm missing my leg, I still have my connections, Keegan."

His smile is worth the scolding you know Lawell will give you for trying to promise to pull him into the service.

You don't care. He's medically smart enough, and pliable enough to train into shape.

Maybe, if you can't serve anymore, you can bring someone who was more brilliant that you ever were. Maybe, your debt is still something you can repay.

His smile isn't wide, but it's happy. Something in your chest squeezes too hard, but he's kind enough to ignore how your heart monitor beeps faster. You know he notices, because his eyes crinkle at the corners.

"D'you want me to give you some hints to pick that lock faster?"

For once, you see that offer for help, and it doesn't strike you as a direct insult to you. You can see, right there before you, someone who wants to get close.

And it's so very stupid to trust someone. But something tells you that you will never be too slow for Keegan.

He seems fine with waiting for you to catch up.

Maybe that's why you nod at that question.

Maybe that's why he sits on the side of your bed, and starts to explain the basics, gently leading your hands into proper position as he starts to gently wriggle the tool agains the pins.

You would have never allowed this, otherwise, but it feels surprisingly good to have him there. Not because he thinks you're weak. Not because he thinks you'd be better if he taught you this.

Keegan is teaching you this because he thinks it's something you want to learn.

The tool turns before you're ready, and the lock pops open under your hands. Keegan's hands too.

First chapter | Previous chapter | Next chapter

[resident-idiot-simp]

Bucky and Steve running across Logan and meeting Wade and Laura in the process

(x)

Logan was out shopping when he heard a whisper "Lucky James." And smelled familiar scents. It's Barnes and Rogers, he knows immediately his plans for the day are going to be postponed.

He just sighs and walks towards an alley so they can talk without too many onlookers. They stand at the opening of the alley with crossed arms and wide eyes. Logan just puts his arms out to the side as if he's showing off.

"It's been a while." Logan acknowledges.

"A WHILE?!" Rogers half shouts, "How are you not old It's been close to a century?" Barnes asks.

Logan just raised an eyebrow at them, "I could ask you the same thing but I know the answer to that." Logan points out.

"Of course you know the answer everyone knows did they enhance you too?" Rogers asks and Logan shakes his head. "Nah I don't need enhancements I was born this way." Logan says with a shrug.

"Explain." Barnes orders and Logan does. "I'm a mutant."

Barnes and Rogers share a look. "So what are you just slow to age?" Barnes asks. Logan smirks, "Kinda It's more like I have a healing factor the likes of which you've never seen. With a few other things." Logan tacks the last part on like an afterthought.

"What do you mean?" Rogers asks. Logan chuckles to himself, "For all intents and purposes I'm immortal. I was there when the bombs dropped in Japan and I'm still here."

Barnes and Rogers looked shell-shocked.

"I'm twice as old as both of you." Logan adds just because he can.

This seems to break them slightly. "Do you want to get lunch with us so we can catch up?" Barnes asks and Logan shrugs. "If you pay with that Stark money." Logan offers, and they agree.

They go to one of Logan's favorite places Wade had shown him and he takes their normal booth in the corner. The waitresses greet him happily and he smiles and waves back. It's very different from the world he was in and he'd like to keep it that way.

Barnes and Rogers couldn't keep their eyes off him like if they looked way he might just up and disappear. He understood but couldn't really relate.

"H-how have you been what have you been doing?" Rogers asked and what a question to start with. He might as well rip the bandage off now.

"I'm not your Lucky James." He says completely ignoring that question for now. "Also it's Logan now has been for a while."

They stare blankly and he continues.

"The man you served with isn't me he died a while ago. I'm from another universe a far shittier one of my own making. I was brought here as a replacement for the man you knew."

"...what?" Barnes breathed sounding a bit heartbroken.

"It's complicated and I don't know the full story, but you need to understand I'm not the same person you knew. It is most likely that we had the exact same experiences, but you are not my Barnes and Rogers and I am not your Logan."

"What happened to him?" Rogers asked.

"He sacrificed himself to save some kids. He was a hero and a legend to those who knew him." Logan answered.

"And you're not?" Rogers asked, sharp as a tack that one.

"Not in my world. I did a lot of bad things got real mad...lost control...... I'm not like the other Logan my story differs after the X-Men."

"You are an X-man?" Barnes asked and Logan looked away.

"Your Logan was. I am just a disgrace who couldn't accept I needed to get over myself."

Barnes's eyes lit up as he connected dots, "You're Wolverine." Steve's head wipped towards Logan as he also realized.

Logan nodded.

"Well, the question still stands How are you and what have you been doing?" Steve asks and Logan smiles slightly.

"Better, I have a new purpose and shot at life thanks to Wade. I'm doing jobs with the maniac and living a pretty normal life."

"Who's Wade?" Barnes asked with a raised brow. Logan smiles he can't help it. "My fiance. He's the one who brought me here, but that's a long complicated story that I promise isn't that interesting." Logan answered with a shrug.

"You said you did jobs. You want to specify?" Rogers asked and Logan rolled his eyes.

"We work for the TVA which is something I'm not going to get into and normal merc shit." Logan says offhandedly.

Rogers splutters his drink and Barnes looks interested. "Would I know Wade?" Barnes  asks and Logan smirks, "Definitely." They give their orders as the waitress comes and Logan gets a call.

He answers with a surprisingly soft, "Hey kit." That has Barnes and Rogers looking at one another eyes wide.

"Yeah yeah, we're at our favorite place." A pause. "Yeah ok, do you want your usual?" Another pause, "Ok see you in a bit bye."

The waitress raises an eyebrow at Logan, "Does she want her usual?" Logan nods and she scratches something else down before leaving.

"What was that?" They ask at the same time and Logan just smiles. "The main reason your Logan sacrificed himself is coming." He says and he sounds so incredibly fond.

They talk for a while longer until Logan perks up and the super soldiers turn to see what Logan's looking at.

It's a young lady who looks so much like Logan all of the questions they have are answered after just a glance.

"Come here kit." Logan calls his voice seeming to vibrate like a purr. The lady makes her way to the seat next to Logan smiling.

"Hi, papá." She greets her voice vibrating the same way. Logan throws an arm over her shoulder and squeezes before letting her go.

Rogers is trying and failing to speak as Barnes just stares. "This is Laura." Logan introduces and Barnes manages to get himself under control first.

"Nice to meet you Laura you can call me Bucky that's Steve." He sounds only slightly breathy which is impressive. Logan knows full well this is one of the last things they expected.

"I know." She says flatly and Rogers can't help the bark of laughter that escapes him. That's definitely Logan's daughter no doubt about it. Barnes seemed to have a similar reaction but managed to only snicker.

Logan doesn't even hide the shit-eating smile that crosses his face.

"Did Wade follow you?" Logan asked and Laura rolled her eyes. "He said he wouldn't so I give it 30 minutes until he shows up." Logan nods along like he expected this answer.

Barnes seemed to remember what Logan had said about this being the reason they're Logan had sacrificed himself as he looked at her closer.

"You're our Logan's kid." He stated more than asked. Rogers jerked in his seat as he too recalled that. Laura just sighed. Barnes suddenly felt like shit. Logan however didn't seem upset or annoyed at him.

"Yes, but I'm technically a clone. They took his DNA during the Weapons X program. I'm an attempt at recreating the perfect weapon." She said as she gestured at Logan who looked pissed off at the reminder.

There was a lot there that Rogers and Barnes hadn't heard yet none of which sounded good.

"I miss Dad but his sacrifice wasn't in vain. I have another life now a better one just like he wanted." She answered easily. Rogers and Barnes nodded sagely It definitely made them feel better knowing that their friend had sacrificed himself to save his daughter.

"I don't know how much you want to answer but what exactly was Weapons X?" Barnes asked the both of them.

Logan answered, "It was an organization that prays on mutants. It really started with me they tricked me into getting adamantium adhered to my bones before...well...they made me into the perfect weapon and took away my free will."

Laura leaned into him and Logan welcomed it smiling softly at her before continuing, "I was the tenth attempt and the first success. I eventually escaped, But they couldn't let it go so they tried cloning me." He breathed out.

Laura picked up from there, "I'm the 23rd attempt." She answered with a shrug. "Weapons X has been taken down but there's still offshoots that's what got pop."

Logan growled softly. "Fucking Francis." He snarled. Barnes seemed to look like he might be connecting some dots but couldn't quite put the whole picture together.

They were interrupted by the food being delivered. They talk for a while longer about less touchy issues after that, Laura even explaind what it's like in the mansion. That is until a while later when the diner goes silent and Logan and Laura perk up.

Rogers and Barnes reluctantly turn to see Deadpool sans his normal outfit. As he makes his way to the back booth where they are sitting. People he passes scramble out the door behind him.

Most of the waiters and waitresses look nervous, but he pays them no mind as he makes his way over. Rogers and Barnes prepare for a fight. "Peanut Mini, how are we doing?" He chirped.

Laura starts purring, "Pop." She greeted. "Thought you said you weren't going to follow the kit darling?" Logan asked his voice warbling the same way Laura's was.

"And let you two have all the fun? Please!" He rolled his eyes. He then turned and finally looked at the other two men and his eyes went wide.

Logan lunged at him covering his mouth, "Don't you dare scream Wade." He threatened as he pulled him down into the other open chair next to him.

Laura just laughed and Logan glared at her. Eventually, Wade managed to wiggle out of Logan's grasp, "OMG CAPTAIN AMERICA MY HERO!" He cried.

Rogers looked distinctly uncomfortable, "YOU KNEW I WANTED TO BE EXACTLY LIKE YOU WHEN I GREW UP DESPITE THE FACT I AM CANADIAN!" Wade exclaimed excitedly.

Rogers wanted to point out the fact that he ended up the exact opposite of him but didn't. His face however must have conveyed this because Deadpool answered." I KNOW I DIDN'T QUITE MANAGE IT BUT I GOT PRETTY CLOSE!"

Steve went to speak but Bucky was quick to speak over him because he had questions. He had never dared get close to Deadpool he was terrifying but now seemed like a perfect time.

"What do you mean by pretty close? I mean you're known for taking any job with a high enough pay?" He didn't ask rudely just really pointing out a fact in the underground.

Wade turned his attention to him, "Well sure But it's mainly bad people, Hell I'm quite warm-blooded for a merc. Besides when you're the best at what you do you end up taking the dirty jobs." And then as an afterthought tacked on, "And I do like money how else am I supposed to buy cocaine?"

"Al does love her cocaine." Laura agreed and Logan nodded along with that train of thought.

Rogers looked like he might explode and Logan looked lovestruck. The soldiers wondered distinctly what Logan saw in this maniac.

"What do you mean warm-blooded?" Barnes asked.

"Well, sometimes when kids get desperate they come to get help through unorthodox means. Most people don't touch it because the pay isn't good." Deadpool explained easily.

That seemed...actually pretty sweet which was surprising for someone like Deadpool.

"Besides I mainly take hits on drug lords, child traffickers, rapists, murderers, and the other unsavory," Deadpool answers easily and Logan nods at that confirming it.

The conversations continue and surprisingly Deadpool or Wade actually seems... Okay. Logan is enamored with him and it's understandable he has a charm to him if you can get over his...eccentricities.

Laura also clearly loves him and that's enough for them. They plan to have lunch at some later point. They pay and Wade leaves a generous tip...like a couple hundred dollars generous. The waitress seems to know him and thanks him with a smile. And just like that the trio is gone.

Steve and Bucky make their way back to the tower as they try to figure out how to explain the encounter they just had with the other Avengers.

"So where have you been?" Tony asks the moment they appear in the main area. The two share a look, "We met an old friend and caught up."

"Old friend, how old was he 90?" Clint asks from the couch. Bucky chuckles, "Actually he's much older than that. We had no idea though turns out he's a mutant."

Everyone pauses at that and looks over to them all asking them to continue with just a glance.

"Super enhanced healing factor It's as immortal as it sounds." Steve answered.

"Yeah?" Tony asked eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Yeah, but it's complicated and it turns out he has a kid and fiance." Steve answered easily.

"With immortality? that sounds painful." Tony asked seeming haunted at the idea of outliving Pepper and Morgan.

Bucky chuckled, "Funny thing that they're also immortal."

Everyone paused, "How did that happen?" Bruce asked.

"Both are experiments from his DNA." Barnes revealed.

Tony and Bruce shared a look, "Is there any way we can meet them?" Tony asked excitedly.

Bucky and Steve shared a glance, "Well...sure but.." Steve trailed off.

"One of them is Deadpool." Barnes finished.

Natasha and Clint seemed to jump a foot in the air out of shock alone.

"WHAT?!" They both shouted in shock.

(I plan on posting this tomorrow to Ao3)

[epwritten]

T a s t e ~ l.f

"Just look at me baby, day and night"

Description: You want what you're afraid of getting. You both play this game of want and desires, temptations, and limitations, secrecy, and need.

Word count: 8K. Hehehe. 😬

Author's note: I got into Stray Kids late summer last year, so there's a lot of performances I'm still getting into. But a week ago I saw Taste for the first time and...wow. When I first watched the Taste performance, everything was running through my mind at once. It was the perfect showcasing of temptation, where me -a usually by-the-rules person - had thoughts that were uncontrollable. I've never seen anything quite like that before, where in the moment I was so captivated. This concept came immediately after watching the video late hours into the night.

Additional notes: AU kind of...even though they're Danceracha, they're not members of Stray Kids. They're three college friends trying to make it by, making music.

Another note! This can be a little toxic, but the whole gist of this one shot is to showcase what temptations between people really look like, especially if you have one who grew up under strict conditions and now goes through inner conflict of whether or not they should throw away their restrictions for a chance. I don't want there to be anything that upsets anyone as they read this. It wasn't my intention honestly!

AND MOST IMPORTANT!

There's no smut in this. I'm not comfortable writing it. I know this one shot more ofc focuses on temptation and what that feels like, but I'm just not comfortable so please don't expect it and then get mad when you've reached the ending and there's nothing aha <3

Okay that's it! Happy reading! Hope you will enjoy <3

To lay it out in simple terms, you were drowning.

No, not literally. But it felt so much like it.The place had a way of heightening all of your five senses in one setting. You always found yourself playing the senses game with your dad when you were young. He may have forgotten about it, but you carried the habit with you, even if it was subconsciously. You always observed the five senses in a place and how that made you feel. Sometimes it was for safety measures, identifying what in an unknown room could be your shelter. Other times it was a reflection of happiness, if you were at the beach or somewhere that you could not count all your senses aligning in the best way.

But sometimes, on a night like tonight for instance, it was out of nerves.

Smell: The scent of expensive perfumes from those in the room lingering in the air.

Hear: The noises of conversations in and out of your ear through everybody else who was in the room.

Touch: Your pulse, right under your neck, a signal of nervousness when things got too overwhelming.

See: The lights dimmed in perfect blue, everything dark and rich in color that you may as well have been drowning with the wave of shade plastered and flashing shadows where the lights loomed.

Everything about this atmosphere was tempting, inviting, alluring. You could feel the vibration of the bass, on the floor right where your foot was planted, but also buzzing in your chest. You knew needed to breathe. But nothing was working with your senses anymore, almost as if they were too far gone, lost in this place of entrapment.

Why did you decide to come?

You were definitely out of place, you considered, as you craned your neck trying to look for something and nothing at the same time. People were chatting and laughing and you wondered if being social was a game of pretend that everyone aced at, or an actual skill. Nobody even looked bored before an event would start. It amazed you so. You on the other hand, always hated to be so early to places where you had no other choice but to socialize before the main events arrived. Yet for this specific night, you didn't dare arrive late. You didn't want to admit it out loud, but you didn't want to miss...him.

Great. Your mind was doing it again. Thinking about what you vowed not to think of. But there it was, a delicate subject you didn't want to tempt with thought and imagery, but it pulling you in.

Him, with his dark eyes, a stare that captivated you, and seemed to control all of you- your mind, your body, your soul. He was dangerous to what you thought held your convictions for so long, the definition of what you couldn't cross and somehow you did. Though not really. But still. The whole thing was rather...complicated.

Because it started with you, that night, three months ago. You didn't even know why you were there. Life was tough and you needed somewhere to escape to. Your friends always suggested a high scene that could make your feelings go numb for the evening, how the dopamine release would maybe even be good for you. You never considered it those days of your youth, but a few months back, you found yourself at a high scene of a nightclub under blaring lights.

~ 3 months ago ~

Even though you were in your early 20s, it was your first time, so of course you felt out of place. Did people actually enjoy this?

That night was a night of many firsts. A stranger sauntered over to you and asked to buy you a drink. You didn't realize that what happened in the movies you saw could actually take place in real life. People were making out in the back corner- full on, not caring if anyone else was looking, and not getting a room anytime soon. The music was loud. There were so many people, so many stories. But, you all were strangers to each other, and that was the pep talk you told yourself.

You were a stranger. Whether you were actually shy and timid or confident and sexy, no one would know the difference. It was one night in this nightclub. You could be anyone you wanted to.

You could also meet anyone you wanted. And that's what you did.

He was on the top floor when you first saw him, manspread on the purple lounge couch. There were two other guys with him, one with brown hair and the other with blue hair but you barely noticed. Even when they stopped talking to each other and eyed you as you got to the top of the staircase, searching for a place to sit, your eyes only zeroed in on one.

See: Jet black hair, dark eyes, pale skin, wearing all black. He was the most beautiful person you could ever see. His features were pretty, but his stance was dominant and you couldn't help but let your mind run with thoughts that normally didn't cloud your vision. But this night was meant to be different anyway, at least, that's what you were trying to tell yourself.

You swallowed before you spoke out. "Am I allowed to sit here?" You asked, because for some strange reason no one else was up in the balcony seats, just those three men.

The man in the middle of the couch smiled before he shifted in his seat, moving to the other side of the couch.

"Of course you are. Come sit."

Hear: His voice was lower than expected, a velvety tone with a certain accent, though he didn't say enough words for you to realize which one it was. Your heart churned deep in your chest as you slowly walked towards them. You sat down right where the middle man patted and immediately you were hit with the scent of his cologne.

Smell: A hint of springtime but spice of power.

When you sat by him, the two other guys that were there wandered off, leaving you and the middle man alone. They made no excuses and walked out like it was no big deal. You didn't want to disturb any of them, but they were out of your hair by the time you sat.

You couldn't help but sneak a glance at who was sitting right by you on the couch. The music was blaring, lights were dimmed but luminescent enough so you could see the sparkles around his eyeliner and the color tint on his lips. He looked incredibly unreal, just sitting there.

And then he looked at you.

It was strange. You would be the person who would look away instantly, blush constantly and find something to fidget with, causing so much of a distraction to reduce the heat on your cheeks and color on your face. But right there in that moment, you didn't look away, you stared right back.

You didn't know anything about him, but you remembered how when you first walked into the club you said to yourself that you wanted a change. That you could be whoever you wanted, and no one would know anything different. He wouldn't know anything of your shy nature, the innocent image that so many mocked you about, he wouldn't know.

"Can I get you a drink?" The man asked finally, his pupils looking so intensely at your soul you thought he was genuinely lost in them. He was attentive, that was noted.

You shook your head. You've never drank before. Even though tonight would be the night of promises to live young and not overthink everything, you were still nervous for the substances.

"I'm good. Thank you though." You answered.

He nodded understandably as he sat up straighter. "Ah, that's okay." He said.

"I've never seen you here before. Are you new to the city?" He continued.

It was when he said that your heart started beating a bit more. Australian, that's what it was. He was definitely Australian.

He angled his body on the couch so he could face you properly. Though you were shy among his gaze, and had trouble fully looking at him.

"I've been here, I just..." You paused. You didn't want to seem like such a fool if you were to say that you've never been in a nightclub before. The man looked around your age and it would be somewhat embarrassing.

So you lifted your eyes and looked at him.

"I just never got to actually talk to you before." You said.

The man blinked before he leaned forward, a hand brought his chin as he gazed at you. "You've seen me here, but you never talked to me?"

You swallowed but wanting to keep going with the act. You told yourself in your mind not to care. So what if you flirted a little bit? Anything that would comment for this man would be truthful anyway.

So you scanned him with your eyes, taking everything in before you spoke out.

"Well...you're the sexiest person I've ever laid eyes on, so it'd be difficult..." Your voice trailed off.

Oh goodness. Did you really just say that out loud?

The man raised an eyebrow, but his smirk said otherwise. "Sexy, yeah? That's what you think of me as?"

When he repeated your words back, it made you suddenly shy, looking away. How did people at clubs do this? Were they always that forward?

He looked like he was okay with it, but you couldn't keep this front and confident act much longer. But you wanted to. You so wanted to just forget about your worries and let the night take its course.

"Hey," He chuckled warmly. "Don't go shy on me now." He said, eyes never leaving your face.

So you didn't. You took a deep breath and looked back at him. "Yes, that's what I think of you. You're sexy."

Being forward left a weird taste in your mouth, but the way he looked at you said so much at the same time. It fed you, fed your emotions. Because you could see that your words were the ones to cause him to smile, despite the shyness wanting to creep up on you.

"Thank you." His voice was a low decibel of temptation. He let his eyes travel down past your eyes for a split second before centering back on your face again.

You blinked and took a shallow breath, trying to ease the thundering beat in your chest.

The man then smiled genuinely and you swore you never saw anything more unreal. He looked kissable. You wondered what kissing him would feel like.

Where did that thought come from?

"You're a little shy, aren't you?" He guessed, reading your like a book.

Touch: You crossed one leg over the other, accidentally brushing his leg with yours and you quickly drew it back. You were failing your confidence but the way he looked at you...there was really no chance.

He chuckled when you didn't respond. "Don't be, get comfortable. What's your name?" He asked.

You said it and he repeated your name to himself before he nodded. "It compliments you. You're just as beautiful if not more."

And there came the butterflies once more.

You turned to him, trying to come back to look into his brown eyes. "What's your name?" You threw the question back to him.

"Felix." He answered, giving you his hand to shake.

It wasn't the most unexpected name for this midnight prince of a man. If anything, it was pretty attractive.

Around you both the music still blared and you started to feel your mind drifting back to the scene around you with your senses. But you wanted to be present and looked back at Felix with a question in mind.

"So...why are you here tonight?" You asked, trying to attempt conversation.

Felix looked up at the ceiling and then around. "Honestly...I'm performing on that stage in a minute." He said, looking behind him.

You did a double take when you saw the stage. "On...the pole?"

Felix shook his head and laughed. "No, no. A couple of friends and I we dance and make music, and then we perform at clubs."

Your face flushed. "Oh."

That was it. You were done. Embarrassed. You would try to take a cab and leave and never return. Possibly leave the country. Never be seen again. Burried in a hole. Whatever worked.

You didn't realize you were actually spacing out and planning a disappearing act until you felt a strong but soft touch on your arm. You averted your gaze and saw Felix shooting a soft smile.

"Why are you here tonight?" He asked.

It was very much of a good question. You wanted to know yourself. Life was being a lot. You needed a change of scene. You wanted to check out the club. You wanted to not let your worries cloud your mind. You were a rigid person and you imagined what it would be like to, for one moment, live more freely.

But you weren't about to go into the details of it all. You still were assigned one task, and that was let go.

"Because...I want to see you perform." You answered softly.

Felix blinked in surprise before he smirked, his hand patting your leg.

"Good girl." He muttered.

Hear: The words "good girl", over and over in your head from now until morning. You didn't know what to do with yourself.

Felix suddenly stood up and you looked at him, your heart beat picking up in haste."Wait, where are you going?" You asked, confused.

Felix glanced at the stage and then back at you, his eyes daring. "Going to be the reason why you came here tonight, of course. You should watch the stage." He winked and then walked away, going down the stairs, not looking back once.

He was so mysteriously sexy, so captivating, that you didn't know if your mind was held straight. You were thinking a million thoughts, imagining instances that past you would never do. On and on were piles of debating in your head between the two. The familiar innocence you vowed to protect, or the risking image that didn't care who you were, allowing you to dive deep into someone else. Maybe someone you were all along.

You couldn't think much because soon the music died down and you walked to the rail of the balcony, looking down. You technically could've gone down, but there were so many people. You liked having the space to yourself. It made you observe.

And when Felix and his two friends were finally on stage and danced, you were absolutely stunned. The other two were passionate, of course. The one with the blue hair was like blazing fire and then other with brown hair like sharp ice. Yet Felix had a power to him, an aura that was unshaken. He moved effectively and gracefully at the same time.

Their small set ended, only a couple of songs before the three went back upstairs and joined you as the stage was getting ready for exotic dancers. You stood up, wanting to pull Felix aside. When Felix saw you, he smiled, sauntering over to you.

"What did you think?" He asked in a low tone, reaching you.

You looked at him, truly. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and his hair was slightly messier from the dancing. He was breathing hard, staring at you. It made you feel vulnerable of the true thoughts in your mind. You wondered just this once, how he would react if you were direct.

"I think you're a dangerous temptation." You finally answered bluntly, stepping into his space.

Felix raised an eyebrow. "Really? I'm a dangerous temptation, how so?" He asked, though his voice was smug.

He was taller than you but he crouched down, leaning forward so he could be at eye level with you.

You took a deep breath. "Because..." Your voice trailed off as you noticed a strand of hair covering his eye. You wanted to see his eyes. Without thinking you moved his escaping strand away, brushing it behind his ear. But it wasn't until you felt your fingertips reach the side of his face and saw him staring at you, not backing away either, gave you a weird longing.

What if tonight nothing mattered?

What if you could just be?

Felix stepped closer to your space, looking down at you. When he watched your hand slowly run through his hair, you caught him biting his lip subtly, but to you it was so hot.

He said your name then, eyes on you. When you looked at him, as the blue lights shone on his face, you could see a dark look in his eyes, it was calling you.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" You asked lowly.

A night of first experiences. It started with the drink offering, it continued with the flirtatious comments, and now it came to this point. You may have imagined the possibility of 'what if', but now it was your reality.

You just asked the hottest man in this whole club if he wanted to leave with you. That was something you never imagined yourself to do.

You looked to the side for a second, but the moment that you would want to second guess, a gaze of his would send darts to your heatt, causing it to beat rapidly in response to how he was looking at you. A wave of intensity and suddenly fear of regret if the night didn't happen, rushed through your soul.

"My place or yours?" Felix asked. His voice was even deeper if that made sense, filled with need.

"Yours." You said immediately.

~Present Day ~

You glanced on the watch on your arm, and then looked back to the stage. It was empty, the smoke machine clouding your vision. The playlist in the background was loud, the stero basically right in front of you. But what did you expect, you were front row.

You wondered where he was, maybe backstage with Hyunjin and Lee Know. You recalled when you first formally met the two, a few days after the first night you met Felix. It was a hang out, he called it, where a bunch of his friends and him were grabbing drinks and he wanted to see you again. He also wanted to talk to you. You didn't know why you said yes. He was supposed to be a stranger you'd know for one night, and then you both would leave each other and never see each other again. But of course, knowing your luck, it could never happen.

That night, the first one where after his set, you both left the venue not looking back, nothing actually happened. You were a virgin, you were raised strictly under rigid parental rules, you never drank or did drugs, you haven't had a first real kiss, you've never had any guy talk to you let alone bring you to their place, and you were scared regardless. But you wanted him. You didn't know why, but you wanted Felix so much.

~3 months ago~

Your foreheads pressed against each other. You felt his hands grab your face but you let your head stay around his. You could feel him all around, inhaling his scent. You were in his room, in his bed and yet...nothing. Sure there were touches here and there, kisses peppered down your neck, but you were so nervous. In the heat of the moment, being in the club with the blaring lights, electrifying music and sensual atmosphere it was easy to not think and let go. But right there in Felix's house, things were more difficult to navigate.

"I...don't know." You admitted softly.

Felix sighed, planting a kiss on your forehead once more. When he departed, he looked at you, and then ran his hands down your arm.

"If you don't want to do this, we don't have to." He said.

You glanced at the bed. It was soft, inviting, right there. And that was Felix was well. He was right there.

You looked down at your lap. "I want to, but...i- I don't know."

Felix remained quiet, nodding. When you saw his understanding you rested your arms around his neck, giving him some physical consolement. He breathed in deeply, eyes closed for a second before he leaned in once more and kissed the side of your chin. You hitched out a gasp.

"You want to but you don't know." Felix repeated your words against your skin.

He had a tendency of doing that, of throwing back the words you said so that you could hear echo in his voice. It was a shot of questioning if you were really sure. But it was so attractive coming from him.

Without even realizing it, you slightly tilted your head to the side, allowing him the access. His hands traveled down to your waist and as the kisses went deeper he found grip in your hips. A slow hand creeped, under your shirt to touch your bare skin. But as you felt his touch your eyes opened and you moved in your seat.

"Felix...I..."

You didn't want Felix to get annoyed. Every time you initiated something, he would respond to it, then you chickened out. You were sure that back in the club there were a lot of people who would want to spend the night with Felix.

You were the one that asked him, and now that it was happening you're nervous and indecisive?

You shook your head, feeling stressed out. It shouldn't be this stressful. Either you wanted it or not.

"I'm sorry." You apologized in a whisper.

Felix stared at you a little more. "What do you want from me, baby? What do you want me to do for you?"

~Present Day~

Two months and 13 days. It had been two months and 13 days since you've seen him. You were nervous as you craned your neck trying to look for something. You eyed the exit sign. You felt ridiculous. Surely you wanted to see this performance, but you were right up front, meaning Felix would see you.

He sent you an invitation, letting you know that he was going to be performing at an event. It wasn't even a bar or a club, it was an arts venue where people got the chance to display their talents and get scouted if they had the chance. You were proud of Felix, and Hyunjin and Lee Know. You knew that they were talented and worked hard.

You were curious for their song choice. Felix didn't say much when you asked him, just that it was written by the three of them inspired by true events. Then he told you it'd be special if you could make it, since it was inspired by you.

You never had a song inspired by you before.

You were going to go regardless. It wouldn't matter if they sang about bowling, whatever it was, you knew they would put on a show. But the fact that it was inspired by you...what part of you?

Would it be very direct and knowing? Did it include your name? Or was it slightly subtle, using certain words and symbolism that only made sense from the person that wrote it, and the muse.

Your heart beat at the thought. There was an anticipation growing in the air as the smoke machine from the stage traveled just about where you were. You breathed in deeply and closed your eyes. You were ready for whatever was to come.

~3 months ago~

It became on and off, like a tennis match.

Another night the guys performed at a bar. When their set was done, a lady with long brown hair and a sparkly black dress walked over to Felix and was talking to him across the room. She was smiling, using wild gestures and you're stomach flipped when you saw her hold on to his arm while laughing. Felix gave a smile and talked with her for a bit, nodding along to what she was saying.

You felt pathetic. Why did you think that you and Felix had something? There were rules and natures to the club scene. People weren't to be in contact with each other after a nightly exchange. So if you were the one Felix talked to that first night, that meant someone else would be the one the next time.

You got up from your seat abruptly, and Felix's eyes averted to you but you turned, picking up your purse, and then weaved your way through the crowd. You were done with the night. You needed to go back to your place and relax.

You left the bar and stood by the crossroad, waiting for the light to turn green so you could walk. As you looked up into the night sky, your eyes trying to adjust to the orange street lights in comparison to the darker theme shades in the bar, you heard footsteps behind you.

"She just wanted to say she liked our set. She works in the music industry."

It was Felix no doubt.

You shook your head and then shrugged. "Okay...? That's great."

"You don't have to be jealous about it, I'm not interested in her."

You weren't facing Felix, but you could hear the undertones of his voice and recognized the smug. He was enjoying this.

"I'm not jealous." You said.

Felix hummed. "You're not jealous, huh?" You could feel him walking closer to you.

"You must think so lowly of me." Felix's hand snaked around your waist and then pulled you closer with no effort.

"You left a whole bar, took all your stuff, just because I was talking to someone of the opposite sex. You don't think I know what's going through your brain right now, do you?"

You breathed in deeply, inhaling his scent once more. The close contact was driving you crazy but you kept your eyes to the signs, waiting for the signal for you to walk.

And then a kiss planted on the back of your neck. And another. And another.

"The way you look mirrors how I look at you. The way you think of me is what I think of you. How your body yearns for me is how my body yearns for you. You don't think I would know?" Felix's voiced out in a low purr in your ears, his breath fanning your skin.

Slow kisses peppered lightly on your neck and then traveled down to your shoulder.

"You're sexy when you get jealous. So innocent yet so possessive? It turns me on." Felix narrated, holding you up as you could feel tingles throughout the course of your body.

It should have been weird thinking that you were in the position outside for all the public to see as you waited at the crossroads, but you didn't mind. In a weird way it was almost thrilling? You wished that you could go home with him then and there.

But you couldn't. And just as Felix's left hand slid down your thigh, you took a step forwards moving away.

"Felix," You took a deep breath, and then faced him. "You know I can't." You said.

For the first time, he got quiet. There was a slight look on his face, a flash of something you couldn't depict before he looked at you.

"What do you want from me then?" Felix asked, once more, saying your name calmly.

"You undress me with your eyes but get all shy whenever I touch you. What are you leaving me with?" He asked.

You looked down. You figured you owed Felix the truth.

"I've never done...anything with anyone before." You admitted.

Felix nodded. "That's fine, I have no intention of taking something away from you if that's not what you want. But you've told me you wanted it. And you seduce me. You ask me to take you to my apartment. I can't think straight when I'm with you. And yet the moment we try, you're gone." Felix said, running fingers through his hair.

"You're confused." He added.

I blinked and then shook my head. "You're the one confusing me. I don't know what I want to do with you. I don't know what I want you to do to me. I imagine things and I want to experience it with you..." You let your voice trail off.

Felix brushed hair out of your eyes. "I want to do everything to you. But you're not helping me. And this innocent self of yours isn't innocent at all. You're a temptress." Felix kissed you once more right by your jaw, just where you felt your knees went weak.

But he left go before anything escalated. His eyes looked over your head and then he pointed. "If you really want to go, it's your walk now."

You turned and looked seeing that there was indeed the countdown for the street. Cars waited for you to cross, their gazes impatient. You looked back at Felix and then the light once more.

You may have been a 'temptress' but Felix was nothing more than a 'tempter' himself.

~Present Time ~

They were last. Of course they were last.

The event night had gone on, with amazing debuting artists and groups. You liked the music and enjoyed the varied dances. There were traditional styles, ballads sung, hip-hop numbers, rock...etc. It was a little bit of everything.

You almost forgot the main reason why you were here. You were enjoying the night way more than you had initially expected, but as the MC came on stage thanking everyone for coming, it was then you realized they were the showstoppers.

"We have one more group for you guys, they're performing an original never performed before, ladies and gentleman! You're the first to hear this so let's make sure it's extra special to them. Give it up for Danceracha!"

The audience cheered and your heart thundered as the room went dark, lights out for a second. You sat up straighter, your eyes never leaving the stage as you prepared for anything though you weren't sure for what to expect.

See: Blue lights. It was a deep hue, and with the visuals of bubbles on the screens surrounded the room as though the place was underwater. Three spotlights in light blue lines centered towards the three that move as soon as the song starts. Hyunjin to the left, Lee Know in the middle, and Felix on the right side. There were dancers around the stage in black, in a startup runners position but not moving.

Hear: The music started. F# minor. It sounded mysterious, alluring, matching the colors of the lights around. It's own kind of sexy but captivating in a way that would make anyone wonder what was to come.

The three danced with grace and flow, synchronizing with the beat. The intro played, your eyes looking to where he was.

And how could you not? He looked incredible in a deep indigo unbuttoned silk blazer atop a black tank top over black dress pants, accessorized in silver index rings for both his right and left hand, and a lock necklace over his chest. His black hair slightly growing a bit longer in the back, and fluffy front covering the sides of his face. He moved seriously, passionately, elegantly, and dangerously.

The backup dancers with them got up and the three starting walking to the center of the stage. Just as they started their formation, you heard the voice you unknowingly missed, the voice you craved.

Fake eyes open

또 속아버린 아픔

이참에 날 또

가지고 놀아줘

You took a deep breath. Even within the first lines you knew. You knew exactly what he was saying.

Lee know started singing next and you heard the softness of his tone.

Fake eyes open

또 속아버린 아픔

이참에 날 더

망가지게 놀아줘

Hyunjin came in third with the power of the song building up.

It's like bad red roses

향기에 미쳐 호흡이 가빠짐

아름다움에 가려진 짙고 두꺼운 가시

Don't care about it 알고 있잖아

베일에 싸인 눈동자

헷갈린다면 지금 이 순간을

Lee Know sang once more in a falsetto.

즐겨 baby baby don't test me oh no

Baby baby don't get me wrong

The next sequence had Lee Know and the dancers lower themselves, immediately drawing the spotlight now to Felix as he sang the next part. People around you cheered.

거짓은 안 해 감히

의미 부여한 이 밤의

정답은 you can get me

오로지 you can get me

The music played then, no words excepted Lee Know vocalizing and the smoothness of their dance. Almost like they were swimming. Almost like you were drowning.

They all got up, Felix singing once more.

Yeah make you feel my love la la la

지금 너 come and taste me now

Yeah you better watch out

You're gonna like ah

그래 난 속삭여 la la la la

Hyunjin came back to the center, carrying the last of the pre-chorus as the beat was building.

너와 나 둘 사이의 거릴 좁혀

잠깐의 호흡과 맞닿아 true up

이 스윗한 공간에 빨라진 ah

이 스윗한 공간에 달궈진

The music came to a sudden stop, only the faint sound of a chimy instrument playing as Felix graced the center of the stage, eyes turning to you as he pointed.

Just look....at...me

The beat of the chorus came back strong as the room erupted with cheers. The dance had intensified, filled with electrifying motion that made your heart soar. They were so in sync with each other and yet knowing that what they were saying was inspired by you...it made you sit up straighter and clear your throat.

And then your breath was held when you saw them in hypnotic rhythm going down to the floor.

Just look at me baby, day and night

A single touch. Even though part of the choreography, you weren't ready for Felix's hand that drifted up his leg as his back arched slightly, head rolled back as he sang that line.

What on earth was he doing to you and why was it working so much?

Lee Know started singing the next part again as the ground work was now on their knees.

Don't make me bad make me bad

I'm addicted to you

Hyunjin sang the next part in a beautiful falsetto.

이미 길들여진 내 맘을 자극해

They spun, getting out of the position and were now standing along with the dancers as Lee Know sang the same line again, the beat dropping.

Don't make me bad

Bad

Addicted to you

In synchronized movement, all the guys on stage leaned to the side. It was when looking at Felix and seeing his hand go up to his face did you realize it was him singing the same way Hyunjin just did in a heavenly falsetto, as if he wasn't the one with a low sultry voice for the duration of the song.

시작해 버린 이상 내 게 아님 안 돼

The music started to quiet down, back to the soft purr of seduction like the intro of the song. All of the guys' movements flowed like water, breathing heavily but graceful and poised in a swimming-like manner. It was just the keyboard pad and the chimed-like instrument playing as each person took a step back, and then another. And as the dancers dispersed to the sides of the stage, Felix, Lee Know and Hyunjin held their ending pose as the music came to an end, centered on the stage.

The lights went to black and everyone throughout the room cheered. You could see people around you giving standing ovations yet you stayed unmoved trying to still your beating heart and finding a way to process everything that just happened in the span of two minutes.

Desire. Need. Yearning. Passion. Sensual images and thoughts running in your head. Throughout the performance, though still professional, Felix managed to make a way of giving you his personal show. No one in the building would ever think anything of it, but the words, the dance, the eye contact, everything was what you understood.

It was something the two of you danced with yourselves. Wanting to give in, but being afraid. Yet so separately wanting to find out what would happen...if...

You sat back for a long time, an aftermath of conversations were playing as your background music even though the song was still in your head. Felix was engraved there. The way he looked, the way he sounded, the way he moved...it was everything to you.

The MC came back saying that the night was still young and there would be the chance for everyone to start partying and dancing the night away. The groups that would be scouted would be announced the following few days, but to throw all the worries aside the MC invited people go the dance floor.

You stayed for a little bit, and then got up. You needed to wash your face. You didn't know necessarily what that would do but you needed something to help you feel loose? You were feeling courageously needy, but for the first time, you didn't want the feeling to shoot down once activated.

When you took a minute to yourself- even though it didn't help much- rinsing cold water on your face, you looked at your reflection in the bathroom window. Replays of the performance ran once more through your head. You couldn't help but feel a bit of pride, considering the fact that there were many young and pretty people who had eyes and could definitely see Felix as attractive, and yet...you were the one he was singing to.

You had to find him.

You stayed in the bathroom for about a minute more and wiped at the cold droplets on the sides of your face before you took a deep breath and walked out, going back to the main room. You stopped right at the entrance of the door, scanning the crowd. Felix could be anywhere. Perhaps backstage, maybe talking to people, or maybe....

Wait.

It was timely how you recognized him. Insane, really, because all down the far side he was basically a shadow. But you saw him. You saw at the far corner someone sitting by the back corner. Drink in hand, manspread on the wooden chair. His blazer was off, revealing his black tank top.

He was ruining you without even doing anything.

Surrounding him was a couple of other guys. They had black T-shirts on so you figured it was the some of the backup dancers.

You took a deep breath and then started walking. You awkwardly weaved your way through the dancing train of people before you got to the back of the room. When you reached the table, everyone turned. You felt nervous seeing that you were looking right at Felix after all this time of no contact.

"Um...we're gonna go to the floor. I'm sure you two have some catching up to do." One of the dancers said. He gave a knowing look at you and you wondered if he knew who you were.

Felix shot a smile, giving him a crisp dap and then a salut. "Okay, have fun." He wished.

His voice. How you missed the sound of his voice.

Felix waited a few extra seconds to see each of them leave you both before he averted his eyes to you. There was a story twisted with an airing confidence in his eyes.

"Didn't think you'd show." He said, now planting his elbow on the table. He leaned back, shamelessly staring down your low v-neck shirt. But you were shamelessly staring at his arms, playing at this game as well.

You shrugged. "I had to. I know how much this night is important to you."

Felix nodded, taking a sip of his drink before setting the glass down. "So..." He pushed his hair back, combing his fingers through it before he leaned forward.

"Did you like what you saw?" He asked.

You didn't want to sugarcoat it. You couldn't anyway.

"You were incredible. And the song...it was...it made me think of things..." You answered shyly.

Felix didn't say anything for a few seconds but you saw the corner of his lip lift in a small smirk.

"Yeah? What kind of things?"

You looked down, feeling the heat on your cheeks as your mind went wild. Imagining having Felix touch you, to whisper sweet nothings in your ear with his deep voice, to be the one you could experiment with. He sold that image during the performance, and you wanted nothing more than for him to carry that persona with you, behind closed doors, no one watching.

"Talk to me, baby. What's on your mind? I wanna know." Felix said, his eyes looking up at you in a strange innocent doe way, as if he wasn't the one in charge for setting your soul on passionate fire.

You breathed deeply, taking slow steps towards him. He was right in front of you now, though he didn't stand up and you didn't sit. You were looking down at him and Felix was looking up at you.

"It made me think of...you doing whatever you want to me..." You said.

Felix didn't make any quick movements but somehow he sat closer. He reached forward and hooked his finger to your belt loops, slowly reeling you closer.

"Is that so?" He asked, looking up at you.

You took a sharp intake of air, trying to hold it together. It wasn't even much but this gesture made you feel in need, like a glimpse of what could happen tonight with his control.

But suddenly Felix let go of his grip, his hands in the air in a surrendering position.

You looked at him confusingly. Why would he stop right there? Right when you began to feel once more like pottery clay molding into his hands.

Felix looked at you dead in the eye. "I'm not going to touch you at all, if you don't want this. Okay?"

You nodded.

"No, love, I need words. You got it?" His voice was firm and clear. It seemed to you he was done with mixed signals. And you understood him, because you were done too.

"Yes." You answered in a small voice.

Felix nodded once, licking his lips as he took in all of you. But just as he said, he stuck to the rules, folding his arms instead. You knew in this moment you had to be the one to take the first leap.

So you did something you've seen in movies a couple of times. You stepped closest to Felix and then brought your hand down to his chest, slowly. Felix took in a sharp breath, but still looked at you, challenging a continuation by your command. When you felt confident in doing so, you withdrew your hand from his chest slowly. Locking eyes with his, you nodded.

"I do want this. I'm not going to be like a light switch and annoy you, I truly want this more than ever. I want you." You said.

Felix looked at you and then looked around the room, and back at you. "You're sure?"

"Yes." You repeated, your voice louder.

Felix flashed a smile as he stood up, towering over you. He wrapped an arm around your waist and just when you were right in front of him you could feel his kisses finding their way across your neck, a familiar feeling you didn't know how much you missed.

But you didn't want your first time to be in a crowd as loud as this, barely hearing as the pop and EDM fill your eardrums.

As though sensing that, Felix pulled away, but lifted your chin so you were at eye level with him.

"I'm going to take you to my place, okay? Do you have your stuff?" He asked lowly.

You were so caught up staring at him, so close to your face, that you almost forgot what he asked. But you nodded, looking down at your purse. "Yeah, it's all here."

Felix nodded and then smiled at you in such an endearing way you could almost kiss him first at the sight.

You were breathing heavily, heart beating. The moment would soon be yours and you wanted to savor everything, remembering the exact feelings you had to look back on.

Felix didn't waste time placing a hand on your knee as he drove, caressing you ever so softly but enough to make you shiver in your seat. It was a reminder that you very much so were in his car and was going back to the place you hadn't been in months. Only, there would be a different ending with this time.

And when you arrived, you let out a small noise when he didn't even bother warning you, didn't even bother opening the lights, but he led you through the dark, entering his room. You faced the bed, knowing that tonight would be when it all would happen.

"You haven't changed your mind, no?" Felix asked, leaning against the drawer as he eyed you.

Why was he so effortlessly hot?

You shook your head and looked at Felix. "No." You said.

When you thought back to the performance, the words Felix said, how he sang, the daunting look in his eyes, you would be a fool to not take this opportunity and truly let go for the first time. And you wanted it to be Felix who would have his way with you, however he wanted it. You couldn't see it any other way.

"You're shaking."

"Oh am I? I didn't notice." You replied sarcastically, which made Felix chuckle.

"I missed you." He admitted, which made your heart flip.

"I missed you too." You repeated.

Felix slowly walked over, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.

"Close your eyes and relax for me?" He whispered in your ear.

Hear: His low voice penetrated your being. Sultry and soothing but charming and the very thing that made you at his service and obey.

You closed your eyes immediately and felt his lips nuzzle your ear. But you let out a small giggle, squirming a little. You could hear Felix laugh behind you.

"It tickles?"

You just giggled in reply. You still keep your eyes closed. For a few seconds there's nothing, but right after you felt his arms wrap around your chest, holding you tightly as he presses his sweet kisses on the back of your neck once again.

Smell: The scent of his cologne was intoxicating, beckoning and surrounded you at the same time. You wanted to bathe in it.

You sighed deeply.

"Remember to breathe, yeah?" Felix advised, his lips moving on your skin.

"Yeah." Your heart fluttered and you exhaled.

Felix hummed, his hand grazing down your chest. "You're so..." His voice trailed off.

You waited, hesitant but curious as to what Felix thought of you. But after long seconds of nothing as Felix started to kiss down your shoulder, you turned your neck slightly, opening your eyes.

"I'm so...? What? What am I?" You asked.

Felix took your waist, and gently moved you so that you were now turned around and facing him. Strands of hair fell in your face in the process of sudden movement, and Felix smiled, pushing the strands back behind your ear.

"When there's a better word than tempting I'll use it, but until then, that's all I'll say." He whispered.

"You're tempting me." You let out in a small voice.

"I'm tempting you." Felix repeated. You now concluded that when he repeated your words, it was the hottest thing ever.

Felix tilted his head upwards, looking at you with daring eyes. "Do something about it?" He dared.

Oh. My. Soul.

You took a deep breath, looking down. You were still scared, even though there was something that enveloped you. A feeling of want and need mixted together, as though the aftermath wouldn't even matter as long as Felix was right in front of you, staring with the same look of desire.

Touch: Your hands slowly grazed his chest, slowly and tentatively pulling the hem of his tank top.

Felix eyed you as he licked his lips, as though blinking would make him miss something.

Your heart beat continuously, mind pressing with thoughts as you, once more, noticed the scene heighten your five senses.

See: No other eyes but his, looking at no one else but you. The glow after dancing on stage, the beauty that was present with his dark features. The intoxicating look of thirst in his gaze.

Hear: Breathing. Faint but heavy. You couldn't even tell if it was coming from you or him, but you could hear the tension.

Smell: His cologne. The scent of springtime with a spice of power.

Touch: The fabric of the tank top. Cotton, perhaps? You didn't know. You didn't care. You suddenly wanted it off.

There was once more sense, but the intensity of the moment was making you experience a sort of amnesia. It made you frustrated, those leading up moments where they were careful and with care, but also dropped with tension that would wanted to cut. It was like a dam just moments before it would burst. But now this was driving you crazy because....

What was that last sense?

Felix's beautiful lips parted when you felt his abs through the shirt. He held your head with his hands, his eyes solely fixated on your lips.

"Kiss me or leave me." He whispered, the words powerful enough to send a wave through your core.

And that was when it clicked. His song. The last sense.

Taste.

The taste of his lips on yours, crashing, furiously enough let your head fall back. He groaned against your mouth, holding the back of your hair with the palm of his hand. He tasted like cinnamon but also a hint of peppermint as well. He fueled you in a way that was better than any of your imaginations.

So like tonight, and 3 months ago when you both first met, you were drowning in alluring waters under the surface of where you temptations washed over you. But unlike the game of tug-of-war to your body and heart where you would win, tonight you let the rope go with no regrets. You knew that this night was where finally, all of your senses aligned gloriously, and that there was no other person who could give it all to you but Felix.

[eyrina-avatar]

Explaining Periods to The Sullys

synopsis: reader explains what a period is to the Sully kids (with the help of kiri)

pairings: neteyam x reader implied couple(aged up), reader x sully kids + spider

genre: idk, informative??/ comedy???

author's note: you guys didn't forget about dr. max patel, right? I barely see him in anyone's writing. proofread once

warnings: mention of female bodies(?), periods, blood, slight gun mention(nothing violent), maybe a few swear words, slight suggestive comment, slight stabbing threat(threat was made as a joke- calm down guys)

word count: 1.6k words

"OOF" you rubbed your forehead as your butt had just landed on the floor.

"I'm always forgetting that my avatar form is taller than my human body" you sighed as you got up.

"This is the third time this week that you've bumped into that doorpost" Norm snickered before hitting himself on the light bulb above him that was illuminating the lab.

"Crap" he murmured, rubbing the top of his head in pain.

"Ha!" you let out in retaliation.

Spider and Lo'ak laughed at the scene unfolding while Kiri and Neteyam rolled their eyes.

"Anyways, what was it that you kids wanted from the lab?" Norm squinted at the Sully kids, weary of their intentions.

"We just wanted to see where it is that y/n does all of her experiments" Lo'ak responded as he played around with the light fixtures, flipping through some different light colors illuminating a plant.

"Whatever, just don't break anything or the top scientist with have my head for any more expenses." Norm warned

"It's alright, Norm. I'm watching them. They won't break anything. And if they do, I won't take Lo'ak hunting again." You reassured him.

"Hey, what do I have to do with that! You know if you don't teach me how to use one of those rifle thingies then I'll have to wait for my dad. And you know how that is. The last time he taught me was months ago, he's been too busy teaching Neteyam." Lo'ak side eyed his older brother.

"Pff, it's not my fault that you're not responsible enough and that dad gets nervous every time you have a gun in your hands." Neteyam shot back.

"But-"

"Then you'll just have to stop touching everything you see in the lab, Lo'ak. You see? Easy peasy. Problem solved. Then you won't break anything and I can give you your next lesson tomorrow." You patted Lo'ak's back and gave Norm a reassuring smile. 'Don't worry,' you mouthed and turned around, focusing your attention on the Sully kids.

"So, what's the plan?" you tilted your head in question.

"Well, I've gotta get a new oxygen tank for my mask and-" Spider headed for the cabinets

"SPIDER, are you for real?"

"What?" he shook his shoulder in question.

"You're still using those crappy RDA masks that need a wire and oxygen tank and all of that. I thought Norm gave you the new ones, from my research company."

"You own a company?" Max teased as raised his eyebrows at you.

"No... you know what I mean. I mean the science department that I'm part of. The new scientists that came to Pandora after your disastrous RDA was kicked out." You shot a look at the doctor.

"Really, you didn't have to go that far..."

"Oh, lighten up Max." you patted his shoulders. "Anyways, where are those new masks? Spider needs one, he's still using those outdated ones."

"Really, those old masks shouldn't even work anymore." Max shook his head and handed Spider a mask, "Here you go, kid."

"I thought Norm gave him one." Max crossed his arms while conversing.

"Nah, I guess Norm's been too distracted with the Na'vi school he took over after Grace" You shrugged.

"Yea... well, see you later guys, I have some more research to work on." he waved before walking away.

"So, Spider, let's get this thing on. All you have to do is take off all of those wires and that old mask. Next, just put this one on like you did the old one and adjust it and it should start working immediately." You helped Spider with the process while Kiri visited her mother's avatar body.

"No tank or anything?" Spider questioned.

"Nope, this has a little filter thing that automatically filters out the carbon and nitrogen inside the mask. No more heavy tank for you to use." You threw the old air tank to the disposal pile and was headed towards one of your plants before being interrupted by Lo'ak.

"Hey y/n, what's this?" Lo'ak held up a packet of pills.

"Lo'ak, put that back." Neteyam scolded before snatching the pills from his hand and placing it back on your table.

"It says, birth-control," Lo'ak scrunched his eyebrows while reading the words on the wrapper.

"Take once a day to prevent pregnancy..."Spider read aloud before putting the pills back.

"Woah..." Lo'ak and Spider let out in unison before giving you and Neteyam looks.

"Are you guys...doing ummm...having errr" Lo'ak stumbled as tried to get the words out of his mouth.

"First of all, that's none of your business! Second, those pills aren't even for my avatar body. They're for my human body, and not for what you think it is."

"Then for what?" Spider raised his eyebrows at you.

"They're for my period. But only for my human body because my avatar doesn't get periods." You sighed in having to explain periods to fifteen-year-old boys.

"What's a period?" Lo'ak asked.

"Women things." Kiri responded as she rolled her eyes at her brother's nosiness.

"And how would you know? You're a na'vi." Spider interrogated.

"Because girls talk to girls about things they don't talk to boys about. Duh." Kiri shot back.

"So, what is it?" Lo'ak waved his hands in question.

"Yea, what's a, um- a period? Isn't that the little dot that goes at the end of a sentence? At least that's what Norm taught me..." Spider trailed off.

"Yea, you're partially correct, Spider," you gave a small nod as you thought about how you were going to explain things.

"But umm.. I'm talking about a different type of period called menstruation. It's when a female human bleeds for 5-7 days straight each month." you let out as you saw Spider's and Lo'ak's faces change from curiosity to shock.

"L M F A O- Is that how you spell it? FIVE TO SEVEN DAYS STRAIGHT?? You've got to be kidding me. You don't expect us to believe that, right? I mean, sometimes Spider and I do dumb things but you don't expect us to be stupid enough to fall for that, right?" Lo'ak simply stared at you, waiting for a response.

"No, she's right. You guys could definitely learn a thing or two about humans." Neteyam rolled his eyes at his younger brother's ignorance.

"Wait, wait, wait," Spider held his arms out in shock, "You actually bleed for up to a week and don't die? How the hell do you not die?"

"And why do you bleed for that long? And from where are you bleeding?" Lo'ak pitched in.

"She's bleeds from her pu-"

"Kiri." Neteyam warned.

"What? It's true. Might as well be blunt with these two skxawngs." Kiri rolled her eyes again.

"So basically, when a human female starts getting more physically mature, sorta like coming of age.. Her body starts preparing for pregnancy every month. It basically lines the uterus and gets ready for a baby. When the body sees that there is no baby, the uterus starts shedding it's lining for about 5-7 days until it's cleaned up. The shedding comes out in blood and that's what causes the bleeding."

"..."

"What?" You cocked your head in question.

"So basically, because you didn't get knocked up, your body bleeds?" Lo'ak squints his eyes, trying to understand the information he was just given.

"What's so hard about that?" Spider shrugged.

"WH- WHAT'S SO HARD ABOUT THAT?! Are you guys kidding me or what?" You mouth drops at the nonsense you hear coming from the younger boy's mouth.

"You bimbos, it's not just bleeding. It involves many symptoms such as heavy cramping, back pain, nausea, dizziness, fatigue, mood swings, headaches, appetite changes , and more." Kiri stated as she crossed her arms.

"So the symptoms of a cold, big deal." Spider spat out, trying to minimize the severity of everything.

"Oh I'm sorry, did you just say big deal? Maybe I should put a fucking knife in your stomach to see if that's a big deal or not because that's what the cramps feel like. Or maybe, better... I should kick you in the fucking balls, right?" You lashed out at the boy in front of you.

"Damn, chill, he didn't mean it, right, Spider?"Lo'ak tried to calm the situation, "Maybe she's on her period right now..." he whispered.

"Avatars don't have periods you dingbat" Neteyam let out.

"Well maybe her human form is experiencing cramps in the link pod and so the emotions are traveling through the conscious connection and that's why she's so cranky." Spider stepped back, not trying to get on your bad side.

"..."

You only blinked in response as Kiri and Neteyam bursted out laughing.

"What in the name of eywa..."

"I've never heard so much bullshit come out of someone's mouth before." Neteyam shook his head at the human boy's imagination. "You know, y/n told me that humans usually read a big guide book before joining the avatar program... well maybe you should read one on human biology. It's only fitting since you're ehh, you know..." Neteyam trailed off.

"Ha, I'm glad I wasn't the one to say something stupid this time" Lo'ak applauded himself.

"Nah, you too Lo'ak. How about you read it with Spider so you can both giggle at the pictures and whatever shit you two happen to read" you turned away from the boys as you went back to examining the plants you were experimenting on.

"Does she really bleed from her va-" Lo'ak was cut off.

"And for a week straight..." Spider chimed in.

"Shut up!" Kiri's voice rang through your ears as you quietly giggled to yourself.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

should I make more fics like this; reader teaching the sullys some human things? Tell me what you think!

as always, comments/reblogs are much appreciated❤

do not steal my work and please don't post it on ao3 or wattpad

© eyrina-avatar

colors used: #01DBFA and #01B3CC

[bratphilia]

would it be a bother to ask for a fic w a tomboy reader and william afton? ive been on such a kick w william afton x reader fics here since i watched the movie and i love all of them but i am not feminine in the slightest so if you could write one id be so grateful!! and age gap and size difference too would also be sooo 👌👌👌. thank you so much!!!

note ✧.*‎ this was a lil hard for me to write considering im on the girly-er side so if anything looks weird in relation to the premise i apologize in advance!! also so sorry for getting this out a lil later than promised.

pairing ✧.*‎ steve raglan / william afton x reader

cw ✧.*‎ age difference (reader is 18-21, william is 45-50), degrading, spanking, approximately two slaps to the face, blow jobs, rubbing through jeans? idk what to call that, coming in pants (fem)

taglist ✧.*‎ @dilfity

synopsis ✧.*‎ while attending yet another meeting with your career counsellor, he has a few choice of words for you.

jeans (w. afton x reader)

you sit in mr. raglan's office, trying to sit straight up, legs crossed, not bouncing. he slightly shifts in his chair as he reads your file, moving his spinning chair from side to side, as he mentally scrutinizes your report. it's nerve-wracking. anyone in your shoes would feel this way, but the way he's intently reading over every little detail makes you squirm.

the worst part is, this isn't even the first time you've been in this exact position. it wouldn't be so bad if mr. raglan wasn't such a hard ass on you. always practically demanding answers of why you keep getting let go from the jobs he gives you, criticizing the tiniest details. nothing gets passed this guy, and yet here you are.

(there's something that almost riles you up about the way he talks to you, though. he has a habit of talking with those big hands of his in a way that makes your insides twist.)

"so you sit here in front of me..." he pipes up suddenly, looking at you then lifting a brow, "wearing jeans to a meeting, for christ sake, asking for yet another job, so what? you can get 'let go' again?"

"well, yes," you say, a little dumbstruck at his comment on your attire.

mr. raglan laughs shortly. "i got news for you, kid. people with your kinda track record don't exactly find jobs as easy as you think they do."

you hold back from rolling your eyes. your fists clench at your side angrily. you speak through gritted teeth, "look, i just need a job. i'll take anything, i'm desperate."

"hate to break it to you, but things just don't work like that—"

you've had it. "will you just stop being such an asshole and give me my damn options already?! i didn't come here to be lectured."

you're seething, breathless from your outburst. your heart is pounding but nothing can beat the jaw-slacked look on his face. there's a deafening silence that has you on the edge of your seat. then, shortly, "you come here for advice, and i'm giving it to you."

you want to say something again, you open your mouth to do so, but he raises a hand to silence you promptly. "you said you're desperate, hm? want my real, useful advice?"

you stare at him, not liking the direction of this conversation or his weirdly tone of dripping malice. "get the fuck on your knees then."

it's hot, you'll admit it. and he's the whole package too, total dad-i'd-like-to-fuck and all. this isn't your type of deal, but if he's gonna offer it to you, fuck it, you'll take it. you'll take everything this man gives you. "mr. raglan—" you say, purposefully furrowing your brows, trying to act scandalized for godsake—

"get your ass over here," he scoffs with a roll of his eyes.

you shut up, perking up at that, and make way to the open space between his legs. "look at you, you degenerate thing. on your knees for such a cause."

your head swims and the buzzing between your thighs becomes far too apparent to be ignored. but you're willing to wait for that relief. you part your lips expectantly, hoping he'd get the message to undo his pants and he just laughs at you. "filthy fucking thing wants my cock in her mouth so bad."

"uh-huh," you say, mouth still open.

he does away with all the restraints and guides his cock into your mouth. eagerly, you take him and lick up the underside of his dick, eliciting a groan from him. he makes a fist around your hair and guides your mouth up and down his cock, not caring about what you can and can't take and you fucking love it.

the noises of him hitting your gag reflex is music to the mouth of your ears. the way you push him out only for him to slide back in is truly a marvel. and the grunts, groaning, and degradations that come from him makes you want to take him even faster, more than what your body can handle, and he just laughs it off, commenting on much of an "eager, filthy thing" you are.

when you feel his helping hands thrust your mouth more erratically is when he decides to pull you off. he uses your hair to stand you up and practically shove you against the desk, back facing towards him. you yelp in pain, only adding to the ache in your stomach. he stands to his full height and you gulp. fuck, he's so much bigger than you, of course he can just throw you around like that. when you ask him if you should remove your clothes, he pauses for a moment, thinking. then, mischievously, "no, i want to make good use of those jeans."

curiously, you look back at him, but his fingers are pressing against your clothed pussy. he presses hard, letting the fabric grind on you. "oh, fuck," you moan.

"yeah? you like that?" he asks gruffly, rubbing your clit through your pants from side to side. usually this stimulation wouldn't be enough, but fuck you were so hot for him that you didn't care. "fuckin' dressed like a boy," he scoffs.

tears burn in your eyes, partly from his words, the other part from the stimulation. then he slaps you across the face. "i asked you a fucking question."

"yes!" you cry, moving a hand to rub at your stinging cheek. he grabs your hand and then slaps the other side of your face, just for fun. a few tears slip down your face at his physicality, but doesn't change that fact that you, "love it so much!"

"think you deserve to come?" he asks. "after that shit you pulled. you think you deserve it?"

you sniffle, knowing damn well what his answer's going to be. "well, i don't."

he removes his hands then promptly wipes them on his pants. you sob out, grasping for his hands but he pushes off of you. "you better come back with a better attitude if you expect anything more than what i gave you."

[laswells-ashtray]

Hii pooks! It’s me again(weapon John ask)

Read your little tidbit and immediately read it three more times because you went above and beyond the original idea I had in my head.

Another idea/question since I’m here; how do you think John and Mac met? I think that with John’s stubborn(and cunt-ish) personality, it took maybe months to get him to be on Mac’s side, and years for Mac to break him from that “weapon” mindset.

I can also imagine that John gets to experience things that he never has, maybe something like fast food or playgrounds or something as simple as puzzles?

Anyhow, that’s it from me. Enjoy your New Year’s Eve and drink carefully!

God, how I wish I had seen that last sentence last night. One day i'll learn to stop combing chronic illness that doesn't mix well with drinking and treating my liver like it's easily replaced.

The first time Mac meets John Price, he takes a boot to the ribs that undoubtedly breaks at least two of them. The lad is a violent little fucker and is actively trying to murder him until he gets a backhand to the jaw for his trouble.

Maybe the boy isn't used to people fighting back or maybe he's just never been smacked across the face before but the way the stranger blinks at him with furrowed brows and mutters "what the fuck." under his breath is something that sticks with Mac.

And then John's handler stumbles upon them both, the very man Mac had been set to meet before he'd been attacked by a lad who barely looks old enough to buy himself a pint and fights like he's done a stretch in Barlinnie.

"Ah, Captain MacMillan. I see you've met my pet project, John. Forgive the lad, hadn't warned him we'd be having visitors on base."

It grates at him, burns across his flesh like accidentally scratching sunburnt skin the way he refers to the lad as some kind of dog. Like a mutt who needs a tug at his leash. And it only serves to irritate him more the way the boy doesn't blink at it.

The stranger, John, he mentally corrects himself offers him a hand and pulls him back onto his feet. He looks repentant as he glances between his apparent minder and Mac, waiting for a nod of approval before offering the Scot a gruff apology.

"Eh, sorry. Shouldn't have pounced on you like that, might've broken a rib or two."

"Probably three, yer a scrappy wee bugger."

"Maybe you're just slow."

By the end of the day, MacMillan comes to two conclusions: one being John Price reminds him far too much of a mistreated wain and two, he's a bit of a prick. Mac likes him.

He sees the lad a lot, works in close quarters with him and the rest of the team he claims to be a part of. One thing is clear, the kid's training is far more extensive than even the SAS could offer. John fights without a care for himself, he doesn't have to. He's yet to see anyone land more than two hits on the boy. But John fights in a way that scares people, it intimidates the other boys his age and none of them will glance at him outside of any missions.

If Mac learns anything from talking to the kid's "handler" it's that it's intentional. Keep John isolated, alone and under his hand to use the poor fucker as a weapon. He's a gun with a man behind the trigger.

From the little interaction they share, Mac learns that John is funny. He's a cunt, he's biting and he has little patience for the typical soldier antics of the people surrounding him on base. And he's got a knack for saying things that leave MacMillan in stitches.

One day it hits him like a boot to the balls, he wants John working under him. Not because the sergeant is some deadly force to be feared but because he wants the younger man to be something more than that. He wants John to be a soldier, not artillery to haul around from base to field.

It takes several favours, a minor amount of blackmail and the help of a CIA lassie that he'd met recently who'd found herself unwillingly trying to befriend the sergeant to get John on his team. The lad doesn't seem to mourn the loss of his handler despite how bitter the man is at the thought of letting John go.

John doesn't settle well and MacMillan doesn't expect him to. He's tense, he's restless and he can't fathom articulating why. Mac offers to spar with him, and he learns how efficient John is with minor injuries when the lad resets his nose for him.

So, Mac enforces "meetings" with the sergeant. He drags John into his office under the guise of missions, paperwork and planning. While John is intuitive and he takes a weight off of Mac's back on and off the field, that isn't his goal with John. He isn't going to use the younger man as a tool to benefit himself, he's going to break open the mental vault surrounding John and his relationship with personhood regardless of whether it takes a crowbar to pry the door open and do so.

It takes four informal meetings until John lets something slip to him, the sergeant is an orphan and his dad was a drunk, a mean one at that. He brushes over the information so casually that Mac almost doesn't catch it, too focused on how John is dismantling his best pen on the desk. He feels for the younger man, truly he does. An abusive alcoholic father who dies and then he's thrown headfirst into an institution that crafts him into the divine executioner. No one who cared, until Mac threw himself tits over toes into the situation.

John has never mentioned his birthday, any past memories or a hint to when it might be. Mac does the next best thing and uses his own birthday to spend time with the kid. When he asks John his usual order from an Indian takeout he's met with an almost comedically blank look, it takes a bit of coaxing to find out that John doesn't have an order. He doesn't particularly do takeout, what good is a fighter if they aren't in their best shape. One day Mac is going to see John's "handler" dead with nothing left to bury.

He orders something simple for the sergeant, garlic chilli chicken and chips. If John doesn't like it then he can pick at the chicken madras Mac orders himself. Hell, if the lad didn't like either of them then he'd order from an entirely different place just so John could eat something he enjoyed.

John finishes his plate before he's even half done. John looks embarrassed, scarlet spreading across his cheeks as he looks down at his empty plate. Mac thinks that's the day he decides that John is his sergeant now.

A couple of years later he'll meet John for a catch-up, a familiar CIA lassie and Russian pilot at the table alongside one Captain Price. John steals Kate's garlic naan and he watches her smack his hand with the back of her fork, John only laughs. When the younger man lets slip that his old handler died a few years prior, some gruesome tale and nothing less than what the bastard deserved, Mac makes eye contact with Nikolai for just a split second before looking back to John and he feigns surprise.

It hadn't been hard to locate the man's address and hand it over to Nikolai when the Russian had asked for it those years back.

[forestdeath1]

I see many Snape Stans (I dislike Snape but I see why he turned out the way he did) saying James sexually assaulted him, especially on TikTok, when it’s not the truth at all, we don’t know if he ever actually took off his pants because and it wasn’t his fault that Snape wasn’t wearing any trousers. While he did bully him he never sexually assaulted him, and so many people are now saying this and I’m just flabbergasted, why did no one read the books? Why does everyone get their informations off TikTok and Twitter?

I don't really like this topic, to be honest. But here's how I perceive it.

1. In the canon, as far as I remember, it wasn't even implied that wizards wore trousers under their robes. They all just wore their underwear. And Lupin says:

"Oh, that one had a great vogue during my time at Hogwarts," said Lupin reminiscently. "There were a few months in my fifth year when you couldn’t move for being hoisted into the air by your ankle."

"Yes," he said, "but he wasn't the only one. As I say, it was very popular. . . . You know how these spells come and go. . . ."

So Snape not only created this spell himself, but it also became popular at school. So many students were hanging upside down, showing off their underwear.

From this, we can infer that wizards perceived it slightly differently than we do now, and even than Harry. It was "fun" bullying, but nothing more. Even Lupin himself sounds like he's justifying it, although he probably got hung upside down too ("There were a few months in my fifth year when you couldn’t move for being hoisted into the air by your ankle.").

2. We don't know for sure if James ended up taking Snape's pants off. Logically speaking, JKR simply didn't describe it, assuming that he did. Given the time the book was written, she probably didn't intend to invest it with such a horrible meaning. This all happens in the 70s in the WW. For our time, of course, it's SA. And that's awful. But the perception of that time could leave its mark. For example, when I was in school, many things that are now considered "awful" were seen as "not so bad". Those who did those awful things back then didn't even really understand how awful their actions truly were. Society evolves and we increasingly respect people's personal psychological and physical boundaries. What we didn't perceive as SA back then is considered SA today. A simple example you've probably seen in movies, spanking children was considered normal and right. That's how society raised those people. Surely today those same people wouldn't spank their children, because they would understand it's bad.

So it's likely that nobody at school perceived this action as SA. Moreover, James always played to the crowd. And if he really, according to the author's intention, took Snape's pants off, and the whole school saw it as normal, and didn't start looking at James with disgust... it raises big questions for the school students, doesn't it? If my friend did this today, he wouldn't be my friend anymore. Most people would look at such a person with disgust. But James's popularity didn't diminish at all.

This brings us back to the fact that nobody back then saw it as worse than bullying. So the society of that time hadn't yet formed enough understanding of what SA was and how bad it was to expose someone else's genitals. So James didn't fully understand either how awful it was, much more awful than pink bubbles out of your mouth or doubling someone's head in size. So for them it was all on the same level — taking someone's pants off or making them hang upside down or doubling their head in size.

I'm not justifying it, but the wizarding world is pretty harsh. Neville was thrown out of a window, Harry almost killed Draco, Fred and George literally made a kid disappear for a week, and Hermione kept Rita Skeeter captive in a jar for over a month. All of this is awful, but the wizarding world operates by different moral standards.

If judged in terms of our morality, there are almost no morally pure characters in these books.

I especially don't understand Snape stans (I mean I like Snape, but I don’t understand their logic). In terms of our morality, both Snape and James deserve to be punished. Snape would have got a much bigger sentence for joining and helping a terrorist organisation. What are Snape stans trying to prove? That Snape was better? No, he wasn't. They're all arseholes in terms of the muggle world of 2024.

[rambunctioustoons]

The celestial bot thrumming so intently, convinced anymore strain he'd pop a metal joint. Eyes fixated down to the shaking movements of his palms.

Today had been a terrible day, but nothing out of the ordinary. Fussy kids eating up the time needed for the other kids. Sun stretched out further than his fingertips could reach and wrangle the troublemakers out of harm's way in time. All it takes is one booming shrill of a voice advocating for chaos for all hell to break loose.

Every attempt to heed the storm and aid him met with a snappy strained pleasantry. He's got this, he's made for this! You've only got one fleshy squishy body, don't push it now. Some kid puts a little too much strain on his wrist joint, that's just show biz! And these crazy kids demand an encore!

Every attempt so far in the early evening air to talk to him met with a question about your well being. A comment about that funny thing you were both there to witness but not actually all that funny! How many minutes he had left before Moon would take the reins, and did you really really wanna spend the next half hour talking about how he feels? Silly, feeble, kind friend. He's just fine.

But he's not. Sure if there had been a way to see Moon flickering in those bright vacant eyes, you'd be giving each other the look.

No more chores left to do, none that he'd let you do anyway. Too high strung. Things snatched from your hands as he forcibly twists fate on the limits of his abilities. Trembling himself apart.

Little you could do to evade the inevitable parts & service visit if he kept pushing like this, so you've hatched a plan.

“Laundry-”

“Done and done! Done twice!”

“Folded sheets-”

“Pristine and crisply folded. Would you really need to check that?”

“Books-”

“All put away and alphabetical like they should be!”

You grin. “... Fairy lights?”

“Put away insideee theee closeet-....” Words dragged out in a dwindling song-songy tune, his faceplate whipping around to face you. “-why are you asking that? They're out of season, Friend.”

“I'll put ‘em to good use then!” You chirp, hands placed on your hips. “Closet?”

Sun squints skeptically. “Yes. Closet.” Eyes fixated on you, suspiciously. You ignore this, of course. Waltzing your way over to the Daycare storage closet. Gathering up the supplies in your arms. Awkwardly leaning down in the naptime nook as you pass by, nabbing a book at random. Using your foot to toss a few throw pillows atop of the pile.

Sun squints at you. “Whateeeever it is you think you're doing, just know, it won't. Work!”

“I’m taking a reading break, don't care what you do. ” You chime. An offended gasp piping up behind you. You duck into one of the corners on the ground level of the play structure. Tying the flat sheet to the gridded bars inside the small space. Weaving the corded battery powered lights inside, flicking them on. Flickering flimsy bulbs of light, shimmering a yellow hue on the play structure bars still visible. It wasn't perfect, but. Cozy enough to hopefully lure a creature right into the trap.

All you had to do was wait. Plopping yourself down in the makeshift blanket fort. Carefully cracking open the book, nesting the hardcover against your thighs. Not actually reading the words of course. Too focused on the shuffling outside the play place, jiggly footsteps alluding playing a game of who cracks first, and you intend to win.

Every fiber of your being trying not to beam with a grin, when Sun eventually ducks his head into the space, craned down to observe the hurried fruits of labour.

“There's still a lot to do, y’know.” He says. Tone wobbly, uncertain.

“I know,” You say, turning the page. “And there's even more to do tomorrow.”

“Sooooo,” He drags on, one hand gripping the caged siding. “We should keep going.”

“Sure.” You hum. “Five minutes.”

A disgruntled sound reverberates from your friend. Shoot. He's on to you. All or nothing now. You cheekily pat the remaining space on your legs. Worth a try, but not at all expecting him to take you up on it. A gesture of sincerity of course, glancing up at him. Pulling you into his lap aplenty times in moments of distress, or sorrow. Or to impishly move you aside because whatever you had been doing, was taking much too long.

Difficult as always to follow his eye line. Making a guess his gaze is fixated on your torso. Hands folding to his chest, restlessly squeezing his intertwined palms. Faceplate trained slightly down, you recognize this. A conversation you're not part of, and very little business pondering on. Turning back to the book, rolling your shoulders.

Sun, careful and hesitantly steps into the space with you. Kneeling down in front of you, paying him little mind. He's exhausted sure, but one wrong jeering word from your mouth and he'll scamper right back out away from you. Quiet whirring and rhythmic tapping atop of one bell. Words a blurry haze along the page to read at all, terribly distracted by the striped pants lingering above the peripheral. Sure if he made any sudden movements, you'd equally skitter out of the play structure too.

Sun reaches hesitantly for the book. Index and thumb pinching the pages on either side of the hardcover book. You let him, smiling up at him gently. He never really indulged in much book reading, much more of a collaborative storyteller. Eagerly adopting any silly, outlandish detail a guest would pipe up with during play time.

Pulled from your musing as he closes the book, setting it aside.

Careful movements as he closes the space between the two of you. Contorting himself down with much less graceful ease than you'd ever seen, and flops right in your lap. Faceplate pressed flat against your tummy, gangly arms quick to encircle your torso. Slumping his weight down as he lets out a shaky faux breath. Full heartedly admitting defeat, solidified as he speaks up.

“Today was bad.” Words lightly muffled, for effect of course. His speaker box didn't reside in the mouth rested against you.

“It was.” You affirm gently. Resting your arms along the backs of his shoulders, met with a small twitch underneath you. His arms squeezing you tighter after a good few moments.

“How much longer?” He inquires hesitantly, tilting his head up to see you.

“Lost count.” You tease softly.

His rays twirl once, in place of an eye roll. Plopping his face to rest back against you once more.

“Five more minutes then.”

“Five more it is.”

[kasagia]

The last time

Pairing: William "Billy" Russo x fem! reader Summary: You're done being the less important one. The one who always had to conform to the big asshole and playboy Mr. Billy Goddamn Russo. And this time you really promised yourself that it's over... but is it? Wairning(s): Billy is toxic, but he loves the reader; the reader loves Billy, but everyone is fucked up; fight; swearing; blood; the reader is a doctor; the reader and Billy argue, but both cannot live without each other; violence; weapon; Inspired by: Taylor Swift - The Last Time (Feat. Gary Lightbody) Nonsense from me: I'm so happy I was able to write this in this week. I hope you like it. 💙🖤 P.S. The next oneshot will be with Darkling (Would've, Could've, Should've), but I don't know when I'll be able to write it. 😅 Word count: 6,5k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen

Find myself at your door Just like all those times before I'm not sure how I got there All roads, they lead me here

When you opened the door, you didn't expect that instead of finding the pizza delivery guy, you would find Billy Russo... or rather, what was left of him.

The hood over his head and his slightly lowered head were unable to hide the scars on his face. You notice that over time they have become... less visible... at least not as angry red as they were in the media after they published the fugitive's photo.

Yeah. You saw the news. (And talked to Maria.) You know what happened.

Maybe you didn't want to deal with a man who had broken your heart many times over the years, but you couldn't just pretend he didn't exist.

His face, his name, even that stupid nickname, Jigsaw, were everywhere. In the newspapers, on TV, on the internet, in your old photo albums and even in your fucking dreams. And now he was standing in front of you. The shell that remains of a one and only Billy Russo.

"May I... may I come in?" he whispered, staring at you uncertainly. You promised yourself that you would slam the door on that scarred face when he came to you... but in your toughts he was more... arrogant... just like he used to be.

"I... I'm not sure." the words come out of you as you look at him, trying to recover from the shock. You thought seeing him in person wouldn't do anything to you. How stupid you were...

"Please... I just want to talk to you. Give me five minutes and then you can sand me back to hell."

You bite your lip. You saw on the news that the Punisher and Jigsaw had teamed up... if Frank could forgive him enough to work with him and let him near Maria and the kids, you could give him that five damn minutes, before you try to kick his ass.

"Only five minutes, Russo." you say as you let him in.

Closing the door behind him, you wonder how far you've fallen by letting him back into your home… but from the way he looks around your place hesitantly, avoiding looking at you, you wonder who's really lost their dignity here.

I imagine you are home In your room, all alone And you open your eyes into mine And everything feels better

"You... you look beautiful." he says as he finally looks at you for the first time since your… rather tumultuous breakup.

"You wanted to talk." you say, crossing your arms as you lean against the dresser and stare intently at the man sitting on your couch.

"I… wanted to come to you after… all this shit. I… I could have lost my fucking memories somehow, but I think you've embedded yourself in my brain more than anything else. I went to your apartment, but you moved away." he admits, avoiding your heavy gaze to stare at the coffee table. You see a sad smile on his face as he stares at the pile of books and papers that were almost always present in any available space in your apartment. Some things don't change.

"I did." you say, closing some of your patient files from him so he can't analyse where exactly you work after you quit your job at Anvil as their private doctor. You collect papers and put them on your desk, turning your back to him. "Some people would get the hint. Did Frank throw out what was left of your brain by smashing your head against a mirror?"

You know it's a low move on your part, but you can't resist making him suffer. And by the way you suddenly feel his warm body behind you, you know that turning your back on your former marine and murderous ex wasn't such a smart idea. You swallow and turn around, crossing your arms to stare defiantly at him.

He is angry. You see it in his eyes. For some strange reason, instead of throwing you against the wall, he decides to close his eyes and take a few calming breaths.

And the part of you that still cares about him reminds you that he never laid a finger on you. Screaming, shouting, verbal threats were options. However, he never lost his temper enough to actually try to hurt you... but maybe you should stop testing your luck after all?

"Well... I... I think he finally put something into my empty head." you shift your puzzled gaze to him. You thought Frankie and Billy would go back to fighting like vicious dogs, trying to kill each other. Apparently, things have changed more than you originally expected.

"And here I thought that no one would be able to get through your thick skull."

"I'm going to therapy." he blurts out. You frown. Well, this wasn't at all what you expected when you saw Billy again. "To… sort it all out." he says, not breaking eye contact with you.

"Well… good for you. But I assume you didn't come here just to brag about it."

Billy shakes his head and takes a step towards you, watching your reaction. You tense up, but then relax as your body subconsciously takes in the scent of his perfume, which after all reminds you of (ironically) safety.

"No. I don't. I... I'm here to ask you if..."

"Stop it. Whatever you are about to ask me, my answer is no. I don't want to have anything to do with you." you interrupt him before he makes any suggestions for you to consider. "Not after what you did to me, to Frankie, to Castles. I'm glad you're on the mend, but I don't want to know you, Russo."

"Y/N, please..." he sighs pleadingly and reaches up to cup your cheek. You grab his hand before you can feel his fingers on you in a tender gesture that so often melted your heart for him.

"DON'T... just leave. Do one damn thing for someone else's sake and just leave. Let me be as I was." you say, glaring at him and internally cursing yourself for the tremble in your voice.

Somehow you win this battle of hurt glances because the next thing you hear in the room after his heavy breathing is the door slamming as he leaves. You are left alone. You're shaking with the emotions that are flowing through you now. You put your hand to your mouth and cried quietly.

Billy fucking Russo always had to come and mess up your life like a damn master.

And right before your eyes I'm breaking, no past No reasons why Just you and me

You come back from your shift at the hospital to find Frankie sitting outside your apartment door.

"One more such trip to the past, and I swear I will take a dog from the shelter and threaten you with it. What do you want, Frank?" you ask, crossing your arms and glaring at the Punisher.

"Nice to see you too, Doc. Have you finally learned how to sew people up, or are you still torturing them?" he asks with a mischievous smile, standing up and walking over to you.

"It was only once in Afghanistan, and in my defence, you were squirming like a dog in a nettle. Besides, it's not my fault you fell on knives because you stumbled like an idiot after the action was over."

The man laughs and pulls you into a hug. "It's been too long. Too bad you fucking ran away from Russo all the way here, I hate coming back to this town. By the way, Maria and kids missed you too."

"I spoke to them just yesterday on Skype. Besides, somehow this distance doesn't stop you from harassing me. And not only you. Billy was here two weeks ago." you say, leading him into your apartment. You give him a stern look as he walk inside. He rolls his eyes at me but bends down and takes off his shoes before walking further in.

"I thought so. He's been looking like shit for two weeks. I'm sure he now consists of 70 percent alcohol. Lisa wondered if his corpse on the couch was starting to decompose enough for Maria to let her perform an autopsy on him." you smile at the mention of your goddaughter. That's your little girl.

"If you tell me you're here to stand up for him, I'll kick you out of my apartment. The idea of letting him be part of your family again after all this shit he has done is sick. You're a fucked-up man, Frankie."

"Y/N, it's not what it looks like."

"Frank damn it, he almost helped kill your family! If I hadn't let Maria talk me into going with you that damn morning to the Central Park and forgave him after seeing those fucking eyes of a broken puppy, he probably wouldn't have lifted a finger to save Maria, kids and you!"

"I thought so too, so I shattered up his face, and we did a lot of shitty, sick things to each other, but believe me, it's not that simple. This fucking mess around us... is partly his fault, but not in the way we first assumed. He's still my brother… he's still our Bill."

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. You were fed up with it all. All this drama that's going on around Russo. Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't have been better if they'd never called you in to stitch up that damn Marine and you'd never met him...

"I don't care, Frank. He hurt you. For money. He can go and keep selling himself like a whore." you say bitterly and walk past the man standing in the middle of your living room. You go to the bar and pour yourself a glass of something stronger.

"You can't be serious."

"I fucking am, Castle." you reply dispassionately, drinking the alcohol in a gulp. You pour yourself another glass and sit on the couch, watching the conflicted man in front of you.

"Come on. It's you and Billy. You always came back to each other. After every shit, big fight and breakup. Like a damn Ross and Rachel."

"For the last time I'm telling you, stop fucking watching Friends with Lisa and Maria, it's our show. Besides, this isn't damn Friends or any soap opera, Frankie. Billy fucked up. Ultimately. Nothing will change that, so just fuck off or accept it. God! You're taking our breakup worse than that cold bastard." you laugh bitterly and finish your glass. You set it down on the coffee table with a bang and run a hand through your hair. No. You won't get drunk again because of that damn asshole.

"Bullshit. He's a mess… I've never seen him like this."

"Do I look like I care?" you ask him, raising an eyebrow defiantly.

"You fucking liar, you couldn't stop loving him overnights."

You don't answer right away. He was right. You couldn't stop loving someone who was so deeply embedded in your soul, who saw all of you and became a part of your heart so easily... but loving Billy hurt you more than staying away from him. And for once in your life, you just want to feel at peace and be somewhat happy. Even without Bill by your side.

"If you want something, you better fucking say it or get the hell out." you say, not looking at him as your attention is drawn to your hands instead of the man standing in front of you.

He sighs, tightening his grip on the chair. You see his white knuckles, and for a moment, you think he's going to break the back of the chair. He sighs suddenly and relaxes his muscles, staring at you with a less angry look.

"I need your help."

This is the last time I'm asking you this Put my name at the top of your list This is the last time I'm asking you why You break my heart in the blink of an eye (Eye, eye)

You imagined your reunion with everyone a little worse. Maria and the kids were in a safe house outside the city, but it was nice to meet the rest of your old friends (in the case of the murder of the last of Rawllins' men, but hey, people talk about different things, right?) And it was really nice... until Billy returned to the apartment.

As soon as his dark-brown irises met yours, an unpleasant, awkward silence fell in the living room. You felt not only his gaze but also the curious gazes of the others as they glanced between the two of you.

"What the hell is she doing here?" he asks, shooting an angry, betrayed look at Frankie.

"Don't worry. I'll be gone as soon as I make sure the Castles are out of any danger. I don't really feel like seeing your face too." you say, giving him a defiant look. You turn your head away from him and towards Micro as quickly as you can.

Billy had dark circles under his eyes, a paler face than usual, and obvious signs of sleep deprivation. You'd care if he was more than just a piece of trash who betrayed people close to him. Yet you still cared.

However, the man does not give up easily. He walks over to you, stands in front of you, and takes your chin in his hand to make you look at him. If you didn't know better, you'd think you saw pain in that son of a bitch's eyes.

"You don't have to look at me from the hiding place where we put Maria and the kids, so get your pretty ass out of here and don't cause us any more troubles than we already have."

"How dare you talk about them after what you did?!" you growl at him in anger, pushing his hand away and standing up to face him. "All the trouble we're having is because you're a selling-out motherfucker who betrayed the only people in this world who fucking cared about you!"

Billy clenches his fists and takes a step towards you, leaning towards you. You both breathe quickly, shooting each other hostile glances, waiting to see who will break away and attack first. The tension in the room is so great that you can almost feel sparks flying between you. Frank quickly steps between the two of you, gives Billy a stern look and turns to face you.

"Save the lovers' quarrel and make-up sex for later, okay? Billy, Y/N is coming with us. Y/N, you're not trying to kill Billy until we do what we have to do, and it's best not to argue with him at all. Same with you, Bill. Can you do it, or are you resentful young brats who will be at each other's throats after a breakup?" he says, looking between you two. You huff, crossing your arms and staring at Castle.

"And since when did you become such a responsible asshole, Frankie?" you ask mockingly, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Since we've been planning a glorious murder at those, who tried to kill my family." you sigh and nod. He is right. Killing these bastards is your priority. You can't let your feelings for that asshole who still manages to get under your skin somehow complicate your already difficult mission.

"Fine. Just keep him away from me." you growl in anger and walk past Billy, elbowing him as you go to get ready for your 'mission' with the boys.

And if you looked over your shoulder, you would see a dark brown irises staring longingly at your retreat towards the armoury silhouette.

You find yourself at my door And just like all those times before You wear your best apology But I was there to watch you leave And all the times I let you in Just for you to go again Disappear when you come back Everything is better

A ring at your door at 2 a.m. should make you suspicious.

You should pretend to sleep and finish studying for the last exam that separates you from your desired diploma. You promised yourself that after completing your specialisation, you would leave the army and move to a state hospital. You were fed up with gunshots all around you. For now, you were well on your way to shedding your soldier's uniform and permanently donning a doctor's coat.

You were one exam away from your dreams... and one Billy goddamn Russo who was standing outside your door.

Before you could close it in his face, the man stuck his shoe between the door and the frame. You curse under your breath and open them again to meet this hot damn asshole on your doorstep.

"You shouldn't open the door at this hour without checking who's behind it." he starts, resting his hand on the door as if to make sure you won't shut it in his face again. Only now do you notice his bag slung over his shoulder. He must have come here straight from the airport as soon as he landed.

"A lesson for the future. What do you want?" you ask dryly, crossing your arms. He looks at you tiredly and sighs. The hand that isn't holding the door is combing through his hair. Dog tags hang from his neck as he bows his head slightly before looking back into your eyes.

"Please... I just want to talk." he pleads, wearing his best apologetic, kicked puppy look.

"We have nothing to talk about. Can you let go of my door now? I have an important exam tomorrow; I need to get some sleep." he smiles slightly. Reluctantly, you feel your chest warm up at that damn cute smile.

"Knowing you, honey, you probably weren't even going to go to sleep, just keep revising the material."

"What are you doing here? There were no more sheets of paper in Afghanistan? The poor postman used to come here with a bag full of letters from you. I felt bad sending them back just because of him."

"So… you haven't read any?" he asks, swallowing and staring at you with those damn eyes you would kill for someday.

"Why? I broke up with you before I left the unit. I was just your sexy doctor, right? Or maybe I'm distorting your words? I'm almost sure that's what you called me while bragging to your colleagues in the unit that you fucked the coldest and most unapproachable bitch from the base."

"These same colleagues saw me rage and fall apart as I was getting my letters back from you. I was the one of us, who was there to watch you leave." he responds to your accusations, and the pain in his eyes almost convinces you to throw yourself into his arms. But luckily, you remember the nights you spent crying because of the asshole in front of you.

"And I was the one who overheard that everything between us was some kind of fucking adventure for the time being until you get to another woman." you growl angrily, trying to slam the door on him, but his hand on it prevents you from doing so. He pushes himself inside your apartment and pins you to the wall, closing the door behind him with a loud bang. Loud enough to have your neighbours hear that.

"It's not true… what was between us… it was the only real thing I ever had in my damn life." he says with a shaky voice and you see tears forming in his eyes. "Neither of us expected what was between us to turn into something more than a few-month fling, but here I am, flitting around without you like a moth searching for the fucking light after spending years in the darkness, which was my life without you. I care about you. More than anything. More than I want to admit, more than I would like. That damn much that I would travel halfway around the world for you, I will grovel at your feet just to be fucking close to you."

You let your tears flow freely as you listened to his confession. You know what the man in front of you has been through—what demons of his past pursued him at every turn. And maybe it's his words; maybe it's those damn, tearful eyes that allowed you to see his vulnerability, hidden for so many years; or maybe you just can't live without him either...

Anyway, you grab his dog tags and pull him towards you for a passionate, tearful kiss as both of you realise one terryfing truth... You need each other.

"This is the last time, Russo." you whisper against his lips as he guides you towards your bedroom, stripping you of your clothes.

And right before your eyes I'm aching, run fast Nowhere to hide Just you and me

"What the fuck are you thinking you are doing?" you ask him angrily as he drags you by your elbow away from the shooting.

Things have gone a bit south. Frank didn't anticipate how much support the group we were supposed to kill would get, and now they cut off your group, and now you were forced to work with Billy to get out of here and kill the people you had to. A very mad Billy Russo in his stupid mask.

"I'm saving your ass. Stay here. I'll take care of the rest." he says, letting go of your elbow as he looks around the room.

"There's no fucking option. You won't play my hero, Russo." you say, and reload your gun.

"You won't distract me. You're staying here. End of discussion." he walks up to you and tries to grab the gun out of your hand. You struggle with him and use the grip he taught you to push him away. After a while, you aim your gun at him. You see a hint of fear in his eyes. You shoot, killing the guy standing in the doorway behind him.

"I'm not you. I don't kill my people." you growl at him in anger and move past him to drag the dead man inside and close the door. Billy is grateful for his mask... at least you can't see his shocked, pained expression.

He pulls up a chair and starts rummaging through the flap of the ventilation duct. During this time, you take the gun and bullets from the corpse.

"I would never kill the Castles." he says, not looking at you as he continues to open the vent. "They are my family... just like you."

"You haven't been my family for a long time." you snort at his seemingly tender words. You shiver when he suddenly jumps from the chair and pins you to the wall. Even from behind his mask, you can see how hurt and furious he is.

He holds your arms tightly, almost in a bruising embrace, as he whispers from under his mask so quietly that you can barely hear his words and his voice shaking with emotion.

"Everything... I've ever done... I've done for you. For us."

"There are no us, Russo." You growl in anger and push his arms off of you. You go to the air vent, but he grabs you by the waist and pulls you towards him. You fight him, even going so far as to rip off his mask, but he still holds you in a tight hug, staring into your eyes.

"I fucking love you; do you understand?! With my entire pathetic existence. I know that now you only see me as a monster and that my face is disgusting, but I can't... I can't lose you. Not you. I can endure everything—insults, your hatred... just... please... please don't leave me." he whispers desperately, cupping your cheek in one hand and resting his forehead against yours. You close your eyes, feeling tears welling up in them. You can't count how many times you cried because of that bastard in front of you.

"You think I care about your scars? I don't give a damn about them. What's keeping me away from you is your ugly inside, Russo. You don't care about anyone suffering as long as you profit from it. I'm disgusted by your personality and by the fact that you were willing to sell out your best friend's family and all the people who cared about you for goddamn money and fame. And I hate you, because somehow, even after all you've done, I still care about your damn ass."

His thumb strokes your cheek tenderly as you let him kiss the tears off your face as you almost fell apart in his hands, which you've missed for so long.

“Y/N, my heart, I swear I would never, ever hurt them. You have to believe me. I wouldn't risk what we have… I wouldn't risk losing you after having no one to care about for my whole messed-up life.”

And you're inclined to believe him. You are willing to forget everything and just accept him back. But then you hear a faint beeping sound. You both freeze, staring at each other.

Billy works fast. Too fast for you. He pushes you into the vent and closes the hatch behind you before you can do anything. After a moment, a quiet explosion echoes from the room below you, masking your frantic scream of his name.

This is the last time I'm asking you this Put my name at the top of your list This is the last time I'm asking you why You break my heart in the blink of an eye (Eye, eye)

Billy was not a good man. He knew it. He had no reason. Life never spoiled him, and everything he worked for he had to tear out with his nails. He had no reason to be good. But what he was about to allow now would seal who he was forever. There would be no turning back. And he knew it the moment he joined Castles in the Central Park.

He actually had nothing to lose. Y/N left him, and it would only be a matter of time before Frank would turn on him. He would be alone again. At least he would have guaranteed his future... however empty it might be. But he always believed that it was better to be depressed in an expensive sports car than anywhere else.

At least that's what he thought until he saw Y/N again, for the first time since their next big (this time final, which he deeply believed) breakup. And God, she was beautiful. More beautiful than ever.

She was wearing that little black floral dress that he loved, and she was joking about something with little Lisa as she dragged her through Central Park and the stands. Little Castle led her towards him.

Quiet: "Don't fuck it up, Uncle Bill." came from Frank Jr.'s mouth, before the kid disappeared, likely going to his father, who was probably already watching him. A young boy had to stop using such words. Maria would have his and Frank's heads for it.

Billy's eyes met yours. He gulped, watching as you walked up to him, and Lisa disappeared, probably going to the hideout where her parents were, watching him and Y/N. He clears his throat as you stand in front of him and gives you one of his practiced smirks... though he doubts he's acting as confident as he should be.

"Hi." he says quietly, staring at your face. His stupid heart beats like crazy as he completely forgot everything that wasn't you.

"Hi." you reply, playing with one of the rings on your finger—a nervous habit that he has despised since he felt the need to put HIS ring on you that you can play with and twirl on your finger when you feel insecure. "It was a long time."

"Indeed." he agrees and puts his hands in his pockets, trying to appear nonchalant. "You look beautiful, how are you?" he asks, as if he didn't have people positioned around you, to keep you safe and out of his troubles... the daily update about your life was the only thing that kept him from losing his mind after... losing you.

"All right. I got this job at the hospital." he knows. He himself made a transfer to the account of the hospital's head so that he would employ you there. Still, a smile appears on his face at the excitement in your eyes.

"I told you it was only a matter of time. You are the best surgeon in the USA."

"Well, I doubt Frank would agree with that." you laugh, and he can't help but join you. Frank was your test subject. A very grumpy test subject. Billy could never complain about being a little too strict or stitching it up too quickly at your beginnings. You were just perfect in his eyes.

"Don't listen to him, he is just a brat." he says, nudging your shoulder gently with his. And suddenly, you both stare at each other. You both linger on the other's lips for a moment longer.

"I missed you, Bill." you admit and his heart starts beating wildly.

He swallowed. No. He can't drag you into his shit. You would be better off without him... but as you stood in front of him, looking at him with those beautiful eyes of yours that he would do anything for, he knew he had lost. And much sooner than he realised it.

He pulls you into his embrace. And when you wrap your arms around him, when you snuggle into his chest, and he inhales your scent, burying his nose in your hair, he knows he's home. He knows that he wants to feel this way forever and that life without you simply makes no sense to him anymore. And if he were anyone else, if he hadn't gone through all this shit in his life, he would have cried right there.

Instead, he pulls you closer to his chest, almost digging his fingers into your back, and whispers softly, his eyes closed tightly:

"This is the last time, I won't hurt you anymore." he kisses your head, sealing his promise. He will burn the world for you. And nothing will stop him.

And as you sit next to him on the bench, across from the Castles, who are teasing you about how you two can't live without each other, he just smiles and texts his people to call off the action. Unbeknownst to you all, he declares war on Rollins, writing to him: "No one hurts my family. That's the end of the deal."

This is the last time you tell me I've got it wrong This is the last time I say it's been you all along This is the last time I let you in my door This is the last time, I won't hurt you anymore Oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho Oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho

You've been holding his hand since you returned to the Castles' house after his doctors examined him and patched him up. They didn't let you get to him. Something about an emotional attachment would cloud your judgement as a doctor. Stupid bullshit, but there was nothing you could do against Frank's strong grip as he held you in the hallway until you were allowed to carry him home. You're sure Castle had scratches from your nails when you tried to get away to go to Billy.

You shiver when Frank suddenly enters the room and hands you cup of tea. You take it from him without a word with one hand, and with the other, you still hold Billy, waiting for him to wake up. Frank snorts and sits down in the chair next to you, watching you closely.

"He'll get through this. Fortunately, he didn't set himself on fire, he just crashed into the opposite wall." you shiver, ignoring his words as you sip your tea. "Although I doubt he'll have any luck next time if you dump him again. Who knows what he'll do next time just for you to hold his hand."

"What the hell are you talking about?" you ask angrily, shifting your outraged gaze to him. He just shrugs.

"Do you think he let me give him those scars just like that? This is some form of his twisted compensation or punishment. The fact that he was hoping you would magically come get him and patch him up only encouraged him more to stay still as I smashed his face."

"You're fucked up. Both of you. No normal people would come back to being friends after something like that."

"We're all fucked up. Me, because I still see him as a brother. He, because he still wants to be part of my family. And you, who love him despite everything, but leave him at every possible opportunity." you turn your gaze away from him to Billy. He is right. And that hurts the most.

"Every time I promise myself it will be the last time. That I will never go back to him. That this is the last time he breaks my heart without even blinking. One last time I let him back into my life, but I… I just can't, Frankie… I can't leave him, no matter how much he destroys me."

"He thinks he's not worthy of you. That you deserve better." you huff bitterly, shaking your head, trying to fight away the tears.

"There is nothing for me apart from him." you whisper, staring blankly at your linked hands with Billy's. "Not after everything I've been through with him."

"Then stick with it. It's better to be fucked up together." you are laughing. It's not that simple, it never was… or maybe it was you who didn't want to make it such a simple thing.

"You should go to Maria and the kids." you say, wanting to get rid of him. You don't know what you feel. All you know is that you won't leave this room until those dark brown irises look back at you again.

"Will you stay with him?" he asks, and from the heavy atmosphere in the room, you feel like this question means more. He asks if you will stay forever. You lift your hand and gently run through Billy's short hair, observing what happened to him after the two of you were apart... and in fact, you weren't holding up any better than he was.

"Yes... yes I will." you whisper, never taking your eyes off his face. And you feel like something heavy has fallen off your chest. Months of crying, anxiety and apathy passed with the snap of a finger.

"I want to be godfather to your first. And for him to have Frankie as his second name if it's a boy."

"Fuck you, Castle." you say and throw a spare pillow at him. The man laughs as he leaves. He closes the door behind him and you look at the unconscious Billy.

"This is the last time, Russo. I mean that. Don't fuck it up." you whisper and kiss your joined hands.

This is the last time I'm asking you this Put my name at the top of your list This is the last time I'm asking you why You break my heart in the blink of an eye This is the last time I'm asking you this (This is the last time I'm asking you this) Put my name at the top of your list (Put my name at the top of your list) This is the last time I'm asking you why (This is the last time I'm asking you why) You break my heart in the blink of an eye (You break my heart) This is the last time I'm asking you, last time I'm asking you Last time I'm asking you this This is the last time I'm asking you, last time I'm asking you Last time I'm asking you this

The gentle brushing of your hair is the first thing you feel when you wake up. Another is his tight grip on your hands, as if he's afraid you're just a product of his head high on painkillers. You raise your head slowly. His hand slips from your hair and rests hesitantly on your cheek.

"Hello." he whispers, staring at you. And for a moment, you just stay like that, each drinking in the sight of the other.

And your heart breaks when you see him waiting for the moment when you start screaming at him, when you take away the closeness he missed so much.

So against your better judgement and what you should do, you lean in and kiss him sweetly, cupping his cheek in your hand. You caress one of his worst scars with the pad of your thumb as he responds to your kiss. His hands stay stiffly in place as he's afraid to move, lest he disturb this moment between you, to feel your lips as long as possible.

You pull away from him and rest your forehead against his. You close your eyes, catching your breath. You feel his burning, confused gaze on you, but you don't move. You don't say anything. You just sit there, enjoying his touch and his closeness, not thinking about the conversation you need to have.

"I missed… I missed this." he whispers shakily. You feel him burning with the desire to taste your lips one more time, but he maintains some semblance of control and settles for just moving the hand that isn't cupping your cheek to your waist.

"Me too."

"I know I screwed up. But… I will never… never again…" you kiss him again, interrupting him. You brush away the tears that fall down his cheek with your thumbs and gently brush your nose against his as you end your kiss.

"Shhh... I know." you whisper, straddling him, needing to feel him as close to you as possible after everything that happened. You were both shattered, but maybe you could put each other back together?

"Are you sure?" he asks, swallowing. You nod and bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. He strokes your back slowly, drawing patterns with his fingertips under your blouse. You shiver at the feeling of his touch on your skin.

"This is the last time, Russo. Either we succeed or... it's over. And I mean it. There will be no great quarrels and returns, no appearances on the doorstep of the other at midnight. We'll either be honest with each other... and make it work... or we won't be together at all. You understand? We're at the top of each other's lists, or not at all. I don't want anything less, any toxic love, any blaming each other, and all that bullshit. We take each other and try to do something with us, or we end it."

He nods and pulls you closer to him, digging his fingers into your back, anchoring you to his chest.

"Deal. I hope you know, you just stuck with me forever, because I'm not leaving you." you lift yourself gently from his chest to look at him. Your eyes water as your eyes meet and for the first time in a long time, you allow yourself to fully express your feelings to him.

"Just... don't make me ask you this again... don't hurt me. Please."

Billy pulls you into a tender kiss, showing you all the love and devotion he has for you. Trying with your actions to ensure that this time will be different, that you will never suffer because of him again, that you will never run away from each other again, that you will never watch the other one leave again.

"I'm nothing without you. Trust me. I tried to live without you and look how it ended." he jokes, and in any other situation you wouldn't find it funny, but now, fueled by the high of being with him again, you giggle stupidly into his neck. Billy smiles fondly and strokes your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Break my heart again, and it will end worse for you. I have connections in the mortuary, Russo." he huffs, undeterred, and pulls you closer.

"Please. As if you didn't fly across two states just to stitch my face together because you didn't believe in the competence of the doctors at the hospital." you blush as you realizes that he knew about your moment of weakness after you found out what happened to him after his fight with Frank.

"How did you know?"

"I'd know your stitches anywhere." he says with a shrug and pulls you in for a kiss.

Maybe this really was the last time after all… and this time you will stitch the scattered pieces of both of you together for good.