#mostly because I got kind of afraid of jumping...

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Heart sweater | B.B

Your daughter got a present for his daddy and Bucky isn’t afraid to show everyone what his little girl got for him.

Pairing: Mob!Dad!Husband!Bucky Barnes x Mom!Wife!Reader

Wordcount: 2.033 Words

Warnings: none, just lots of fluff

Authors Note: I couldn’t help myself. This sweater is just so adorable and imagine Bucky’s little girl getting it for him. So yes, soft spot, feeling soft right now. Hope you enjoy!

Events: Winds of autumn challenge | Candy corn 🍬 a sweet surprise, Balance ⚖️ as the equinox approaches, the day and night balance out. Write about finding peace | @the-slumberparty

Seasonal Delights Bingo: fall vibes | Row One-One | soft kisses | @seasonaldelightsbingo | Fairytale Bingo | Row One-Three | Goddess of marriage | @fairytalebingo

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

“Daddyyyy! We gots you a present!" A childish voice echoes through the hallway of the building. Your and your little — big — families home. Others may say that you, Bucky, and your daughter are family, but there are so many more; they aren’t from the same blood but with the same big hearts.

Bucky’s men, who not only needed to earn his trust but also needed to earn their place in the family, are more than just his men. They are Bucky’s friends, your friends, and your daughter's uncles. None of them would let anything happen to you or the little girl — not just because Bucky told them to take care, but because you’re a family.

Your little daughter runs further through the hallway until she finally reaches her dad's office door. The second floor of the building is just an office — for Bucky and his men. And since he had an important meeting, he suggested that you could go out with her to get some new toys and clothes.

Of course, your little baby girl didn’t go to the toy store first. She loves it, but you’re shopping? She has to get a present for her daddy. She kind of gives herself a treat after finding the perfect present for Bucky — and then she uses all the money she can to get a lot of toys and stuff for herself.

You watch the toddler with amused eyes whenever you’re shopping without Bucky. Mostly Steve comes with you, keeping the two of you safe and just giving you a helping hand so you don’t have to carry all of these bags yourself.

“Sweetheart,” you chuckle while she already jumps to reach the handle and almost falls into her dad's office. You laugh softly, shaking your head — she is just as stubborn as her daddy when it comes to letting someone help or listen once they get excited.

Bucky’s head shoots up the moment the door swings open. He smiles at his little girl, then his eyes wander further toward you. The ocean blue orbs glistening when his lips curl up into a soft smile — one he reserves only for you and your little girl.

“Take care, my sweet little plum. Don’t want ya to get hurt, do we?” He asks, his voice soft but still a bit firm, so the little girl will listen to him. Her eyes — which are just as blue as Bucky’s — roam over her daddy’s body, from his legs up to his face, before she smirks with the widest grin ever.

“We gots you something’, daddy!” She says, excitedly. Bucky crouches down, resting his arms on his knees while he waits for his little girl to continue talking. “Mommy! Daddy waits fo’ you!”

You chuckle, looking for the bag in your hand she wants to have before placing all the others down and handing her the one she put her daddy’s present into. Bucky’s eyes move toward you; without any words, he makes sure you’re okay and that you can be without a kiss for a few more minutes while he focuses on his baby girl.

Once he’s sure you’re fine — after you settle down on the couch in his office and sigh softly — he mouths, ‘I love you, my pretty girl’ to you. And oh damn, you know why you fell in love with that man. He may be a big, feared mafia boss, but around you he is the sweetest, most loving, caring, and perfect husband — and father for your daughter — you could have wished for.

Bucky may be mad because of work sometimes; he may be annoyed, but he never lets it out on you. He would rather punch himself than make you feel like he doesn’t appreciate you or that you’re a burden for him. For your husband, you’re the most precious woman, and he will do everything to keep you safe and loved. He does the same for your little girl.

Luckily, Bucky discovered immediately that whenever he's mad, he just needs you, and everything is perfect. Preferably when he can keep you on his lap. His arms are tightly wrapped around your waist and pull you as close as possible while he presses his face into your chest. You will run your fingers through his hair, and he knows he’s safe — no reason for anger or annoyance, just love and affection, so he calms down without needing anything but you.

“So what do you have for me, my little plum?” Bucky asks, looking with amusement and curiosity at the little girl in front of him. She giggles, her tiny hands grasping his cheeks, and she runs her small fingers over his stubbles.

“Sc’atchy,” she mumbles and squeezes his cheeks together. Bucky lets out a low chuckle, letting her play with his scratchy stubbles. He knows how much his sweet little girl likes his stubbles; she is just like her mommy loving his metal arm and his stubbles — even though you have other intentions when it comes to his metal arm or his stubbles. But those are secrets that stay in the bedroom.

“Sweetheart, you wanted to show Daddy what you got for him,” you remind her when you notice that she got lost in her little game to play with her daddies cheek. But she was so excited to get him his present, plus you know that Bucky’s curious as well.

She removes her small hands and grasps the paper bag again, opening it before hiding her face almost inside of it. You would never leave her with a bag without anyone else around her, but as long as you and Bucky are there, you don’t feel scared if she puts her head slightly into it to tease her daddy a bit.

“Yeah, my little plum. What do you got Daddy, huh?” He asks, bringing his big hands to her small sides to poke his fingers into her soft flesh. The little girl laughs, throwing her head back while she wiggles in his grip.

She pulls her tiny hands out of the bag and holds a big, white sweater with hearts on it in front of her. Her smile grows and her eyes sparkle as she shows it to Bucky. And the big, most feared mafia boss has the sweetest expression on his face.

His eyes shine, and it looks like the sun is brightening them. His smile reaches almost his ears as he stares at the fabric in his daughter's hands. Bucky’s eyes wander to you for a second, then back to his little girl.

“Thank you, my little plum,” he coos, taking the sweater out of her hands to admire it a moment longer. Your daughter watches Bucky intensely — the same intense stare Bucky has if he wants to find out how you think about something. “You want me to take it on right now?”

She nods, letting herself fall backward into her butt while she holds his gaze. He nods, smirking softly. Bucky leans forward, his big hand placed at the back of her head, and he brings her closer to press his plump lips against her forehead.

“Then I will do that,” he says, getting up from the stop he was kneeling. His eyes land on you, and before he leaves the room to change into the new sweater, he makes his way over to you.

He towers over you, both of his hands finding their way to your thighs, and he leans closer. His lips almost brush yours when he grins at you. “She chose the sweater all by herself, but you allowed her to buy it, didn’t you?”

You shiver under his intense stare and his rough voice. “S-she’s just really convincing. I know you said you don’t want presents, but I guess— I guess she got that from you,” you giggle and Lena closer to chase his lips for a soft kiss. Bucky chuckles, kissing you once again before he pushes himself up and makes his way out of the room to change into the sweater you and your daughter got him.

Your daughter gets one of her new toys out of the bag and shows it to you. It’s not like you don’t know what she bought, but she loves to show you and explain everything about it anyway.

“Mommy, wants book or wants dolly?” She asks, lifting her small arms and holding both up to let you decide which of these she should show and explain to you.

“Do you want me to tell you more about the book you got?” You ask. She nods and puts the doll down, walking with the book in her hands toward you. The little girl places the book on the couch next to you, her small fingers digging into your thighs, and she tries to push herself up onto the couch. “Do you want me to help you, sweetheart?”

“Nuuu, ‘m big girl!” She nods, underlining her words. You chuckle; let her climb up without help. Your hand is still behind her back just in case she falls backwards, but she doesn’t.

Once she is on top and next to you, she wiggles a bit and takes the book, placing it in your lap. She just wants to explain why she got the book, who’s on the cover, and what she knows about her favorite series — the book is about it — when Bucky walks back into the room.

Her eyes widen, and she giggles as she sees her big daddy in this pretty sweater she got him. You smile softly at him, reaching your hands out for him to come closer. “You’re pretty, Bucky,” you say and run your fingers over the back of his flash hand, then over the fabric of the sweater.

“Didn’t know I would look that good in that sweater,” he jokes. Stroking one of his hands over the fabric. And he really does look adorable with his middle long hair, his broad chest, and his big arms — the feared mafia boss — wearing a sweater with a lot of hearts on it because his sweet little plum got it just for him. “So, my little plum, what do you think?”

Bucky gets down on his knees in front of the couch, looking at the little girl. Her ocean blue eyes roam over him a little longer before she giggles. “Looks pwetty, daddy! Now we can go back to work!”

He laughs, shaking his head. “I thought I could take out my girls for dinner.” Bucky tilts his head. His fleshy hand holds yours tightly while he watches the little girl, considering if she wants to work or prefers to have dinner with the two of you.

“Do we gets my favorite food?” She asks, taking her book and making grabby hands, waiting for Bucky to pick her up. He nods, wrapping his arms around her to lift her onto his waist before he holds a hand out for you to grasp and let him pull you up.

Bucky doesn’t care that people could look weird at him for wearing a sweater with hearts on it. His sweet girl got it for him, and he knows that no one will disrespect him — not even when he looks like a sweet puppy with an adorable sweater.

“You know, babydoll,” Bucky says, looking at you as he wraps his free hand around your waist to pull you into his side. His nose brushes over your cheek until his lips press against your temple. “Thank you for letting out sweet plum to buy me such a pretty sweater. Now I’m wearing your necklace, our wedding band, and my little girl's sweater. I love you, my babydoll, pretty momma.”

Bucky’s voice is low, and he smirks against your skin as you shiver. You knew he would love the sweater — he loves everything you or your daughter get him. “I love you too, Buck,” you mumble before you make your way to the restaurant — letting Bucky show his sweater around to let everyone see how proud he is to have his family, how much he loves you and his little plum, and how much he appreciates you and your love.

Taglist -> @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @loki-laufeyson68 @winterschildren8 @bxtchboy69 @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @im-alestan @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes @sasha-writing @blackhawkfanatic @fanfictionreaderfan @multiversefanfics @angelbabyyy99 @looking1016 @aphrodite-xoxo @fanfictionreaderfan @iris-xoxo-juhu @holylulusworld @bucks-babe @whatever-lmaoo @thevillainswhore

[solarmorrigan]

It's Coming From Inside the House

For the @steddie-spooktober day 5 prompt: "Did you hear that?" Rated: T | Words: 2472 | CW: panic attack, mentions of recreational drug use | Tags: Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington friendship, pre-relationship, sorta, Eddie Munson being an asshole, Eddie Munson is a sweetheart, he has the range, Steve Harrington has PTSD, post season 2, pre season 3 Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

Now look, Eddie has never claimed to be the world’s nicest guy. He’s often claimed the opposite, in fact, in the name of getting shithead bullies and jocks to leave him and his alone.

And Harrington is no saint, either. Sure, he’s turned over some kind of new leaf since last year, ditching the assholes he used to hang out with and mostly keeping to himself (particularly since November, when his busted face had been the talk of Hawkins High), but he’s been part of enough sportsball-related hazing rituals for Eddie to assume he can at least take a joke.

Anyway, the point is, when he’s given occasion to realize that King Steve seems to be afraid of the dark, Eddie isn’t quite able to resist the urge to poke at him. Just a little.

He’s got Harrington in his trailer, just dropping by for a late-night transaction, and they’ve got an unexpected spring storm raging outside. It had just blown in, heavy winds and rain and all, surrounding the trailer with the sound of nature’s howling fury, and Harrington already seems on edge (probably why he needs the weed, really).

And then the lights flicker–

Flicker–

Flicker–

And cut out.

Both Eddie and Harrington freeze, plunged into darkness cut only by the frequent flashes of lightning.

“What just happened?” Harrington asks, his voice gone tight.

“Seems like the power went out,” Eddie snarks, because that much should be obvious. “Probably the wind. The grid isn’t as secure out here where it’s only us poor people.”

Harrington has no comeback, which is a little disappointing. He’s so quiet that the only way Eddie can tell he’s still there at all is because he can see him illuminated by brief lightning strikes.

Eddie sighs and starts shuffling in the direction of the kitchen. “Gimme a minute, I think we’ve got an old camping lantern somewhere.”

He bangs his knees on just about every object he walks past, swearing up a storm, but he finally makes it to the kitchen and feels around in the cabinets for the lantern he hopes is still there. He knocks over a few pots and pans in the process, but finally – success!

Eddie gropes for the switch on top of the lantern as he pulls it from the cabinet, praying that the battery inside is still good, and flinches and blinks the sparkles from his eyes when the thing lights up about six inches from his face.

Illumination acquired, Eddie uses it to find the junk drawer and pull out the flashlight they keep inside (might’ve been easier to find that first, instead of knocking into all the cookware, now that Eddie thinks on it), and then heads back to where he’s left Harrington standing in the living room.

“Let there be light,” he says, holding up the old lantern in victory.

Harrington, again, says nothing. He looks pale in the light of the lantern, nearly frozen where he stands, staring out the window. He almost reminds Eddie of a frightened rabbit, eyes wide and body locked up in a fight, flight, or freeze response heavily weighted in favor of the third option. And if he’s the rabbit, Eddie is like nothing so much as the wolf, ready to sink his teeth in.

Just a little. Just as a joke, that’s all.

As he places the camping lantern on the table, he pauses and cocks his head, pretending to listen.

“Hey,” he says quietly, and Harrington finally turns to look at him. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Harrington rasps, eyes darting back towards the window.

“I don’t know, it was… like sort of a scratching sound? It’s– There!” Eddie jumps, playing at being startled. “There it was again, did you hear it?”

Harrington swallows heavily, shaking his head. “I don’t hear anything, are you sure–”

“I think it’s coming from the door,” Eddie hisses, voice gone low, nearly covered by the steady roll of thunder.

Harrington whirls back around, looking at the shadowed shape of the door where it sits just outside the halo of light the little lantern is throwing out.

“What if something’s trying to get in?” Eddie’s practically whispering now, low and dramatic. “Should we– should we check?”

Slowly, Harrington nods. “I’ll check,” he says, and he sounds so resolute about it, so resigned, like he’s agreeing to go off to war, that Eddie has to bite down on a laugh. So fucking serious, this guy.

“I’m right behind you,” Eddie says, though Harrington barely seems to register when Eddie sidles up at his back.

They cross from where they’d been standing by the coffee table and over to the door, standing in front of it as another crack of thunder booms overhead. Harrington reaches for the handle.

“Go ahead,” Eddie breathes, raising his arms. “I’m… right… BEHIND YOU!”

As he shouts, he grabs Harrington around the middle, digging his fingers into his sides almost like he’s trying to tickle him, and holy shit, Harrington’s reaction does not disappoint. He jumps and jerks like he’s just been electrocuted, letting out a strangled yell as he pulls away from Eddie, whirling around to face him, and Eddie can’t help it– he laughs.

Like, not a cruel laugh, just the laugh of a prank successfully pulled off.

“I can’t believe you actually fell for that!” he wheezes out around his giggles.

And Eddie isn’t fully ignorant to the idea that there are consequences for his actions; he’s pretty sure at this point Harrington is going to start yelling, maybe start swinging, almost definitely cussing Eddie out – except he doesn’t.

He doesn’t actually do anything. He’s just standing there, eyes blown wide, one hand clenched over his chest while he almost heaves for breath.

“…Harrington?” Eddie tries, as his laughter dies away. “Hey. You good?”

Harrington doesn’t reply. Eddie’s not even sure he’s seeing him right now; his gaze looks glassed over in the low light, staring at something in the middle distance that Eddie can’t see. It’s kind of freaking Eddie out.

“Harrington. Hey. Can you hear me?” Eddie reaches up to wave a hand in front of Harrington’s face, and the reaction is immediate.

He jumps again, swearing and stumbling backwards until he hits the wall by the door with a hard thump, where he slides down into a sitting position on the floor, knees pulled up in front of him and arms wrapped around his middle. He’s still breathing hard, and his eyes are darting around the trailer, still looking for something, but fucked if Eddie knows what.

And fuck. Shit, Eddie feels like an asshole, he’s just given Harrington some kind of full-blown panic attack. Shit.

“Harrington,” he says, trying to sound firm and reassuring even though he has no goddamn idea what he’s doing as he crouches down in front of the guy. “Listen, there’s nothing to be scared of, man, it was just me being a dick.”

Harrington’s eyes flick in Eddie’s direction, but Eddie’s not all that convinced he’s registering what Eddie’s saying.

“Okay, I’m gonna – just a second.” Eddie holds a finger up and stands again, darting over to the coffee table to grab the lantern and, almost as an afterthought, the flashlight. “Okay, here we go,” he says, kneeling in front of Harrington and placing the lantern between them. “Do you wanna hold the flashlight? Would that help?”

He’s barely held the flashlight up for Harrington to take when the other boy’s fingers are wrapping around it, nearly jerking it out of Eddie’s hand. He flicks it on and sweeps the beam around the room, nearly blinding Eddie at least twice in the process.

“See?” Eddie says once Harrington’s performed as much of an inspection of the place as he can from his position on the floor. “Nothing here. Just you, me, and the storm.”

This doesn’t seem to be as reassuring as Eddie would have hoped; Harrington is still on the hysterical edge of hyperventilating, flashlight clutched in one fist and the other hand clenching his jacket where it’s still wrapped around his middle.

“Harrington. Steve,” Eddie tries, and he finally gets a long enough look from Harrington that he thinks he must actually be hearing him. “You’ve gotta breathe, man. Deeper breaths, c’mon. I don’t want you passing out on me.”

And it looks like maybe he’s trying, but the air keeps stuttering back out of his lungs before he can hold it for long. He shakes his head, and Eddie bites his lip, thinking.

“Here. I’m just gonna– don’t freak out again, okay?” Slowly, Eddie reaches for Harrington’s free hand, and with an air of confusion, Harrington lets him take it, unwrapping his fingers from where they’re clutched in his jacket and letting Eddie pull until his palm is pressed flat against Eddie’s chest. “Copy me, okay? In… and out.”

Exaggerating his breaths, Eddie takes big gulps of air, in and out, and waits for Harrington to follow suit – and after a few long moments, he manages it.

Slowly, his breathing deepens out, no longer coming in quick, shallow gasps, and his posture seems to deflate as it does. He sags back against the wall, the flashlight still clutched tight in his fist, and lets his head fall back.

“Better?” Eddie asks.

Harrington shrugs. He flinches at the next flash of lighting, and Eddie squeezes his hand, which he is, for some reason, still holding.

“Just the storm,” Eddie says, and Harrington shoots him a vaguely bitchy look that feels a lot more on par with how he should be acting.

He doesn’t take his hand back, though, so Eddie just keeps holding it.

He holds it and he talks, trying to drown out the rumbles of thunder that are growing more and more distant, trying to distract from the flashes of lightning that seem to be distressing Harrington more than anything else, trying to make up for the fact that he’d caused this whole mess in the first place. And Harrington seems to listen, watching him with eyes half-lidded in exhaustion, even cracking a tiny smile a few times, when Eddie gets particularly animated.

Then, after about an hour of nothing but the warm glow of the camping lantern, nothing but the sound of Eddie’s voice and the dying storm, the power kicks back on. The lights come to life and the fridge starts humming from the kitchen, and Harrington squeezes Eddie’s hand hard, eyes falling shut for a moment in apparent divine gratitude.

“Oh, thank god,” he mutters, and Eddie can’t help but agree.

Slowly, he lets go of Harrington’s hand, and Harrington takes it back, awkwardly handing over the flashlight as if in trade. He stands from the floor, a little shaky, and Eddie follows suit, ready to catch him if his overtaxed body doesn’t prove to be up to the task, but Harrington manages to stand on his own two feet, so Eddie takes a step back.

“Uh… thanks. For all of that,” Harrington says quietly, voice a little wrecked.

Eddie shakes his head. “I’m the one who gave you a fucking panic attack in the first place. Sitting with you was literally the least I could do.”

Harrington shrugs. “You didn’t have to, though.”

“Common decency—and my conscience—beg to differ,” Eddie says, and Harrington lets out a little huff that might have been a laugh.

“Anyway, I should get out of your hair,” Harrington says. “Do you still have the, uh–”

“Oh, shit, yeah.” Eddie had nearly forgotten why Harrington had come over there in the first place. He crosses back over to the coffee table, where he’d dropped the bag when the power had gone out, and snatches it up, offering it to Harrington. “Here you are, my liege.”

The title, caught somewhere between mocking and actual friendliness, makes Harrington huff out another laugh, and he reaches for his wallet.

“How much do I owe you?”

Eddie almost can’t believe he’s about to say it, but– “Don’t worry about it. This one’s on the house.”

He’ll eat the cost if it’ll assuage his guilt – if it’ll get the image of Harrington crumpled on the floor, gasping for air as he searches the room for some kind of threat, out of Eddie’s head.

Harrington frowns. “You don’t have to do that.”

Eddie shrugs. “Call it even for having given you all the more reason to need to smoke it.”

Harrington is still frowning, hand still poised to pull his wallet from his back pocket, so Eddie shoves the baggie into his free hand, closing his fingers around it and letting go.

“Looks like it’s in your hands now, no takebacks!” Eddie insists. “Or, you know, no givebacks, I guess.”

Harrington rolls his eyes, but he drops his hand and tucks the baggie into the pocket of his jacket. “Well, thanks, then. I think.”

Eddie nods, searching over Harrington’s face; he’s still pale as shit, and it makes the dark circles under his eyes, previously barely noticeable, stand out in stark relief. He looks like he’s almost swaying where he stands, and Eddie frowns.

“You gonna be good to drive?” he asks, not really sure what he plans to do if Harrington isn’t.

“I think I’ll be fine, man,” Harrington snarks, and it’s close enough to what Eddie’s used to hearing from him that he’s willing to let the matter drop.

Harrington turns for the door, but pauses just before he reaches for the handle. Eddie wonders if maybe he’s still thinking of Eddie’s stupid prank, unable to shake the idea that something really might be waiting at the door to get him, when Harrington turns back to look at him.

“Don’t mention this to anyone, okay?” he says, possibly going for demanding, maybe even threatening, but landing somewhere closer to a plea. “I don’t need– I just don’t need anyone knowing…”

“Mum’s the word, man,” Eddie assures him quickly, miming zipping up his lips, locking them, and tossing the key over his shoulder.

With a tiny smile crossing his face, Harrington nods. “Thanks. I’ll, uh – see you around, I guess.”

“Yeah. See you around.” Eddie nods.

And with that, Harrington is gone, out the door and crunching across the wet gravel to his car, taking the strangeness of the night with him.

Eddie stands in the middle of his living room for a long moment, feeling as though something about his view of Steve Harrington—possibly even his view of something larger—has shifted, though he can’t quite put his finger on how.

He puzzles it over for a bit before shrugging it off, stooping to grab the lantern and put it back where it belongs. It doesn’t really matter, he figures. It’s not like he and Harrington will have much reason to interact after this.

[fractualized]

A while ago I got under someone's skin for referencing Joker's surprising delayed reaction to killing Jason Todd, and since then I've been thinking it's worth digging into as an interesting element of Joker's characterization.

Of course, first thing's first: Jason's murder in Batman (1940) #427, as originally presented in 1988.

Jason has just reconnected with his biological mother, Sheila Haywood, at a famine relief camp in Ethiopia— and he's discovered that Joker is blackmailing her with information about her criminal past. She gets him truckloads of medical supplies to sell on the black market, and Joker restocks the trucks with toxin. While Bruce races to stop a tampered truck, Jason decides to help his mother on his own. When he discloses he's Robin, however, Sheila betrays him to Joker, not only to stay on Joker's good side but because she's actually been embezzling money from the organization she works for this whole time. She's afraid an investigation prompted by Batman and Robin's appearance would expose this fact.

So Sheila stands by as Jason is felled by Joker and his goons, and then the crowbarring starts.

It's bad! When we return later, Jason is presumably dead.

While Joker isn't shocked that he's murdered a child, he does have an unexpected reaction to Sheila's point. He hadn't really been thinking about what he was doing, implying that he hadn't intended to kill Jason. He just got carried away, whoopsie! He didn't do this to get at Batman; he wasn't thinking about Batman at all. Now, however, he's concerned about how Batman will react.

Joker thinks Jason is already dead. The purpose of the bomb is to get rid of the evidence of his involvement, including Sheila. Joker is not broken up about what he did, but he does have a sense that he's gone a step too far and he doesn't want Batman to know about it. At least for now!

In the end, while Jason wakes and he and his mother try to save each other, they're trapped in the warehouse when the bomb goes off. Bruce makes it back only in time to find a dying Sheila, who tells him it was Joker. When Bruce finds Jason, Jason gets no last words. He's already dead, and Bruce is devastated.

A clue from Joker leads Bruce to the United Nations in New York, and there, infamously, Bruce learns that Joker has been made the ambassador from Iran. Joker is now protected from prosecution, and Batman going after him risks an international incident. Bruce still very much wants to, but Superman stops him.

Well, mostly Superman. I recommend reading Batman #429 to see Bruce's full thought process on this. He is furious and constantly thinking about finally ending Joker— but he also questions his mental state. He still wonders if he can hold Joker responsible if he believes Joker is insane. He uses phrases like "what happened to Jason" like it was a natural disaster, not murder. He even confronts Joker to give him one last chance to turn himself in to Arkham Asylum. Bruce is in a kind of denial, still grabbing at how things usually go.

But back to Joker. Evidently, he's no longer worried that Batman will find out he killed Robin. Joker admits to it immediately.

I assume Joker realized there was no point in denying it. Is Batman going to think it's a coincidence that Robin got blown up when Joker was around? Though Bruce does say it's Joker's taunts that 100% confirm for him that the clown was responsible, pointing again to Bruce still grasping for reasons to not break his rule in his grief.

By the end of the issue, Joker has naturally tried to kill the entire United Nations assembly, which instantly made him free game. So Bruce pursues him to a helicopter, and an in-air scuffle ensues in which Bruce explicitly prevents Joker from being killed by friendly fire, evidently so he can decide how Joker will die. Bruce jumps out of the helicopter, abandoning Joker to a fiery crash. However, despite Bruce's (supposed) intentions, Joker's body is nowhere to be found. The clown lives!

So that's it, right? Joker felt some unease about killing Jason initially, but in a short time, he was happy to gloat about it to Batman's face.

But when Joker reappears in Batman #450, in 1990, he is not triumphant. He's holed up in a dilapidated building, where he learns someone is impersonating him.

How often do we see Joker upset by murders? When the story returns to him, we learn more about his mental state.

With all of Joker's cackling glee at the things he's done, coming close to actual death in the helicopter crash has jarred him— and not just the crash, but the murder that led to it. He recoils from the memory of what he did to Jason. It's why he can't see the joke anymore. It's set apart from his previous crimes. It's too far.

Which is not at all to say that Joker is completely broken up about Jason. By the end of #450, he rallies and sets out to go after his copycat and restore his reputation to his liking.

In Batman #451, though, Joker is still plagued by doubts along the way.

Even when he overcomes those doubts, claiming the mantle as the one and only Joker when his copycat dies by falling into acid, Joker challenges Gordon to finally kill him. It's reminiscent of The Killing Joke, the first time Joker went too far. But like TKJ, Gordon and Batman decide to get Joker back to Arkham against their more vengeful instincts.

Joker's also decided Arkham is just what he needs. Outside, he's plagued by the reality of what he's done; in Arkham, he can settle back into his insanity and stop caring about it again.

So after that, Joker has no second thoughts about killing Jason, right? After all, he largely references the murder in callous terms. In-universe this makes sense as Joker revising history in his own head, particularly as more stories portray his effort to be more monster than man. Monsters don't have qualms about murder! But this is comics, so we can also presume that not all Joker writers know or remember #450/451, which I think is a shame. I find stories in which Joker expresses even just a degree of vulnerability to be more interesting than those where he's just mwahaha evil.

I have seen a few other bat stories bring some nuance into Joker's perception of Jason's death, though.

First up is the particularly nuanced "Fool's Errand" in Detective Comics (1937) #726, published in 1998. Bruce visits Joker in Arkham to get information on how to find a kidnapped girl who's running out of time. It just so happens Joker arranged this kidnapping for a particular day.

I strongly recommend this issue for batjokes fans, as it revolves around Joker talking the case through with Batman in his cell to help him figure out more clues to a crime Joker himself planned. Even with Bruce beating Joker up, the conversational tone feels almost friendly. They're just doing their usual thing.

Well, sort of. Bruce has already said he's not in the mood, and he interrupts their conversation to say so again.

Joker could insist that Batman stay and keep playing the game, and needle him for being unwilling to merely talk to Joker to rescue this child. Instead, Joker gives up her location.

And Bruce does come back as predicted.

So that was Joker's nefarious plan. He wanted to restore some hope to Bruce's cynical soul to be sure that his future failures would hurt even more. But it sure seems the middle didn't go the way Joker expected, when he recognized Batman just wasn't going to play the game as usual.

Joker doesn't jump into taunting. He doesn't answer Bruce at first. He's withdrawn and reflective. He's got something else on his mind on this anniversary of the second Robin's death, and he knows that Bruce does, too. Perhaps not forcing Batman to play was a small gesture, acknowledging the difficulty of the day, remembering how things changed. And what does that gesture cost Joker when he still gets the outcome he wants?

Second example is actually also called "Fool's Errand," this one from Robin (1993) #85, published in 2001. This is a fun one in which Joker discusses his interactions and frustrations with the Robins.

But while Joker indicates more than once that he wants to fight Batsy alone, after he talks about killing Jason, this is the next page:

Joker does not then say he was relieved when another Robin showed up, but still. He's acknowledged again that when he murdered Jason, things were not right. As angry as the birdies make him, they're a key component in the game.

Then we come back to "Once More, With Feeling!" in Harley Quinn (2000) #25, from 2002. Harley's been playing double-agent against Batman with Joker, and she and Joker have this exchange.

Joker typically makes light of murdering Robin, but it seems that when he's with just about his only confidante, he lets other feelings about it burst out.

There's also a flashback to DitF in Batman: Gotham Knights #44 in 2003. We get an exchange between Bruce and Joker before Bruce jumps out of the helicopter.

Joker laughs as the helicopter dives, ready to die, but before that, he seems resigned. He doesn't throw in a real dig about murdering Jason, and he doesn't gloat that he's finally gotten Batman to kill him. He acknowledges he crossed a line.

Lastly, there's a 2006 exchange between, well, Joker and Jason himself in "All They Do is Watch Us Kill, Part 2" as part of Under the Red Hood in Batman (1940) #649. Jason has kidnapped Joker as batbait, and when Joker needles him, Jason needles him back.

Joker regularly extolls his own crimes, but suddenly one of his victims mockingly accuses him of putting up a front, of not being as coldhearted and untouchable as he wants to seem. Maybe Joker does doubt what he's doing and retreats under the cover of madness so he doesn't have to think about it— just as he did in Batman #451.

I'm not sure if there are other examples of Joker expressing anything but mocking glee about Jason's death. I do know of times he's shown a sort of fondness for Jason (such as in The Man Who Stopped Laughing #4, Gotham War: Red Hood #2, Suicide Squad: Get Joker #3), but that's not really the same thing. Joker could've seen Red Hood as his and Batman's Frankenstein child without feeling any squeamishness about killing him in the first place.

But if anyone knows of any other moments where Joker does not act like killing Jason is absolutely his most favorite thing he ever did, do share!

[ladey]

Jinx x princess typa reader?

Also ur fics r rlly good :3

BAHA YAS 🎀 also ty 🤭

jinx w/ a polar opposite gf ༯

notes: mostly bullet point format.. expect this from me a lot

-

jinx with with a girlfriend who’s practically like the opposite of her? how unheard of… (not)

jinx def likes the fem girlies and i have no doubt abt it 😋🤞

seeing u in ur little skirts and dresses has her having to restrain herself at times 🫢

but having a significant other who acts as though they always need help and relies on others to do things for them? puh-lease, jinx would roll her eyes at that.

or so she thought 👀

turns out, she LOVES feeling useful and having someone that genuinely wants her help and attention, and isn’t just faking it out of pity or fear of her potentially putting a bullet through them 😊

she calls u princess and doll, obviously.

she’s pleasantly suprised to find out that ur actually quite stern and feisty at times.

even though she loves to act as ur guard dog. she feels so powerful whenever ur cling to her arm and sit on her lap. always keep u close to her side.

but when someone was being obnoxiously rude to u in public, jinx was at ur side ready to have their body slumped in an alleyway when u jumped up and put them in their place with just ur words.

she found that very impressive and sexy.

u would do the exact same for her, too. and she loves u even more for that. it warms her heart to know that u love and care for her just as much as she does for u.

adding onto that, ur very good at getting what u want with just words, tone, and batting ur lashes as u look at the person with classic puppy dog eyes.

“thank you so much, you’re too kind~” you say, playing with your hair and letting out a small giggle as you wear a sickly sweet smile on your dolled up face.

at times it makes jinx jealous, pausing what she’s doing to eye them with a steely glare. ur gentle hand on her arm softens her and soon the worry is out of her mind.

on the off occasion that jinx catches u doing something by urself, like taking care of a wound (which she would try her damn hardest to prevent getting inflicted upon u, and if it does she would be scrambling around and helping u with the gentlest of hands, afraid to break u as though ur porcelain), she would almost seem hurt.

why aren’t u asking her for help? is she no longer useful? are u getting bothered by her? is she getting too annoying? is this the start of a potential break up?!

“hey wait! let me help you with that!” “oi, quit that! what d’ya think you’re doing?”

she’s slapping ur hands out of the way and replacing them with her own.

she LOVES teaching u things she’s good at! it makes her feel important and looked up to.

while teaching u to shoot she’ll tell u the basics and hold your hand while she helps you aim.

“make sure your eye is right on the target. aaand…” BANG!

she’s cheering and spinning as she hugs u tightly to her chest. she praises u, even if u barely hit the middle of the target or u got close only because of her aid.

she loves to see ur improvement be all because of her. it makes her feel so proud 🥹

and ur praises and thanks always coat her cheeks in a blush. while trying to act nonchalant whenever u tell her how good of a teacher she is.

ur little princess-like charms always get her, i mean how could they not? she would do anything for u.

she enjoys making little gifts for u too: crafting cute little homemade necklaces and bracelets that u will cherish forever.

going and stealing items that u wanted so bad while pouting at her with those big eyes.

u too are a couple not to be messed with 😤

-

hope this is ok 🥺

[splatashahowlett]

monsters inc.

your body knew ache, hurt, pain, fear.

but it mostly knew anger.

your fists went flying forward, hitting violently. your grunts were the only thing that could be heard. your legs were also kicking, aiming perfectly. your body was shaken with rage.

your vivid trance was interrupted by a scream. you jumped and turned your gaze toward the widnow: kids playing.

you sighed, relieved. you were breathing heavily, recovering from your intense efforts. you were alone in the school's gymnasium, charles had told you you could train there after logan's classes.

you were still looking out the window when you noticed a presence in the room. you turned around brutally, still hyper-aware of your surroundings. that's something they taught you back there.

logan was just standing there, arms crossed, watching you. you tilted your head, confused as to what he was doing here. you didn't mind but you weren't used to people watching you train.

"sorry, I was passing by and heard noise" he said, almost like a kid caught red-handed. you smiled softly, amused at his explanation. you wouldn't call logan a close friend, not a lot of people would, but you learned to grow fond of his grumpiness. ordinarily you wouldn't get attached to someone as quickly but you've changed a lot since...everything. plus, you knew logan liked you, you had seen him many times looking at you in secret, asking about you to charles and offering to help you when he wouldn't help other people. you thought he was adorable, still acting like the tough and insensitive guy around you when every in the school knew he had a crush on you.

"it's alright, you can stay" you heard yourself saying.

you focused back on the puncking bag in front of you, hoping to release some of the tension you gathered throughout the day, throughout your life. logan must have noticed because he got closer, concerned.

"that's some impressive punches you've got here"

you slowed your pace.

"you tend to forget I've been training all day, everyday, since I was eight" you teased. he winced, feeling stupid for reminding you of agonizing memories.

"should we train together?" he asked, trying to change the subject but also hoping to spend more time with you. you smiled.

"only if you can handle it" you nudged him with your shoulder, taking your shoes off. his hand went to your back unconsciously, trying to gain his balance back, when he noticed he took it away immediatly. you shared a ambigous look.

logan walked in front of you, ready to fight. you didn't move, entertained by his behavior. logan was waiting for you to make a move; so you didn't.

he launched himself at you trying to tackle you to the ground but you dodged him last second. he grunted, frustrated as his failed attempt. you laughed softly and the noise did something to logan. he had always tried to lie to himself and to hide what he felt around you but it was becoming harder and harder each day.

right as he turned around, you punched him in the face, sending him flying into a wall. you almost felt bad, logan had been nothing but kind to you, which was more than unusual. logan smirked, happy with how his evening turned out. he knew he sounded pathetic.

he ran in your direction, not expecting you to grab his shoulders as leverage to climb on his back. your legs landed around his neck and your hands went under his chin. you tightened your legs, choking him. after a minute of trying to get you off of him, he tapped your thigh softly, indicating you he was giving up.

you jumped off of him, your feet hitting the ground softly.

"well, that was quick" you joked, taking your hands protections off. logan was simply watching you as he caught his breath. he wasn't mad that he was beaten so easily but more interested in what you could do.

later that night, you found yourself sitting at the school's lake. trying to soothe your tortured mind. it had been one year since you escaped the red room and you lived in constant fear. you were afraid that you didn't run far enough and that they would find you. but above everything else, you were afraid of yourself. you were raised there, the red room shaped you, made you who you are. you didn't know yourself, you ignored what you were capable of, and that was the scariest thing.

"it's becoming an habit isn't it?" you spoke

"what is?" logan answered, dumbfounded at how you heard him

"sneaking up on me." you said, turning around, still sitting. you shot him a sweet smile. logan felt his knees buckle, your face was the most adorable thing he had ever seen. he took that as an invitation to sit beside you.

"what you did earlier was remarkable" he complimented

"did I hurt your ego?" you teased, logan chuckled.

a warm silence settled between you; both lost deep in thoughts. you both though about the same thing: your feelings for one another. logan and you were very different people but you both went through horrible things that didn't left you unscared. therefore, you both were very reticent when it came to romance and relationships in general.

"what's on your mind bub?" he asked, watching you. you stayed silent, and reliazed the idea of sharing your struggles with logan someone didn't sound so bad.

"uhm...it's been a year today, since I- uh escaped the red room" you muttered, almost scared to pronounce the name of the place where you were held; the place you called home for decades.

"you're safe y/n, they cannot hurt you anymore sweetheart" logan suprised himself with the nickname but didn't adress it since you didn't react to it.

"i know, that isn't what scares me. I'm scared of what remains of them in me. I am terrified of what they made of me. I hurt people; you should know, I could have killed you in the gym if I wanted to. I am a monster logan" you expressed, on the verge of tears. logan grabbed you by the shoulders, making you facing him.

"hey, you're everything but a monster y/n. you're the most caring person and everybody loves you here. it's actually one of the reasons of why I admire you, you were able to find yourself back after being brainwashed and used" he said, furrowing his brows "if you're a monster then I must be a fucking freak" he joked, trying to get you to understand his point

"you're not a freak" you talked back.

"then you're not a monster" he talked back.

you smiled.

"there you go. you look even more gorgeous when you smile" he tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear. you blushed, not used to this kind of affection.

"thank you a lot logan. for everything" you looked into his eyes.

"if you ever need to get something off your chest i'm here"

"no I'm not talking about that. thank you for always being kind to me, i know it's a great effort for you"

"it's not, not when it's with you" the back of his fingers brushed your jaw, moving near your lips.

"kiss me"

his fingers went to your bottom lip, touching it gently. his head got closer to yours. you closed the space between your lips, impatiently.

your lips moved together, expressing months of supressed feelings. but also thanking each other for always being here, no matter what.

the next morning, you found a enveloppe under your door. when you opened it, you found a note:

"don't be what they made you."

[kigieri]

Navigation

The Danny Ric Series🍯🦡

Daniel Ricciardo × Reader

New relationships need boundaries that have to be set and feelings that need to be talked about. Through that it can grow, and each partner can become fully comfortable so that it may be healthy and long-lasting.

A/N: Welcome! I hope you enjoy The Danny Ric Series. It is dedicated to the wonderful man that brought so much joy to Formula One and its fans.

Due to the topic there is a lot of dialogue in this fic. This takes place in no specific or real timeline.

This story on AO3.

The bathroom mirror was foggy after her shower. Where Daniel seemed to prefer colder showers in the mornings, mostly because his trainer recommended them, she enjoyed hers quite hot.

It was the third night she had slept at his apartment in Monaco. They had been together for a bit more than three months, but the race calendar had made it impossible to spend more time at his place.

She didn't need the mirror to dry herself off and slip into her lounge wear. Daniel was already in the kitchen, having gone on a jog and showered before she woke up. He was making her breakfast, since he had most of his meals premade.

When she slipped into the kitchen, he was just laying an omelette on her plate, next to some toast. She rubbed her right eye, still a bit sleepy. "Thank you, that's very nice."

He turned around, welcoming her with a wide smile. "Only the best for you!" She trotted over to him and kissed him. "You're sweet." His smile grew impossibly wider while handing her the plate. She sat down while he got his porridge out of the fridge. After fixing them both something to drink, he sat down too.

At the beginning they ate in silence, but after she had eaten her toast and was left with the leftovers of her omelette, she began to push them around the plate. "Daniel?" He looked up from his phone, where he had looked over the data of his morning jog. He put it down. "We haven't really talked about sex, and after yesterday..." She left the sentence hanging in the air.

They hadn't had sex the night before, but there were decidedly fewer clothes and more skin contact involved than the nights they had spent together beforehand. "I liked yesterday." He was searching her face for any kind of discomfort, afraid she felt otherwise, and he hadn't picked up on it. A simple nod from her relaxed him.

"So did I, but I wanted to talk about our expectations before jumping into it. This is neither of our first serious relationship, and I think neither of us is a virgin?" She lifted a brow questioningly and he shook his head. "But it's our relationship and I would like to know what you like, and I'd like you to know what I like. The same with things we don't like." Daniel nodded in response before tipping his head back, thinking about her words.

After she had given him a bit of time, she continued, "I can start. I started this conversation, and I have thought about what to say before." His eyes found hers once more and he nodded encouragingly.

"Well, I have no problem with and quite enjoy things like fingering, missionary, oral or riding." She watched for a reaction, but Daniel was simply listening and nodding. "I like both giving and receiving oral." She blushed lightly, these were normal things in a relationship, but voicing them so clearly and clinically for the first time felt a bit weird. "I also enjoy thigh riding a lot, beyond that there is not much I've tried or that I'm interested in. Not regarding my body at least, that does not mean that we cannot talk about the things that go beyond that that you like. I would also ask you to refrain from calling me names, humiliating ones, degrading ones or even things like 'good girl'. I don't think you would say that, but I wanted to voice it. My name or endearments are totally fine."

Daniel listened attentively and made note of everything she said. "Thank you for being so clear with all that. Um, I agree with the things you've listed, and I've never been involved in thigh riding, but I'm very interested. I'll look after my language." He leaned back again, after having moved towards her, and thought for a few moments more. "There are a few things beyond that that I'm interested in. I'm very big on worshipping, from top to bottom, face, neck, breasts, stomach, tight. Everything." He paused, waiting for an answer. "I'm more than okay with that, it sounds very enjoyable." Her smile was genuine, so he continued, "I also like blindfolds and temperature play. Both on myself." He waited once more, but she looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to elaborate. "I like the sensitivity that comes with not being able to see, especially when it comes to blowjobs and temperature is mostly ice. That's especially good after a race weekend. I haven't tried them both combined yet, but I'm interested in that."

She thought about it for a moment and nodded. "I'm opposed to neither of that. We'd have to talk about both beforehand, but if you enjoy it, I'm willing to try it out." This time he nodded. "Good, thank you for bringing it up. It's good to be on the same page. So, was that everything for now?" He rolled his shoulders, he didn't want to abruptly end the conversation, but he also wanted to move.

She was about to nod when something else, something important, crossed her mind. "I'm not on birth control!" Daniel nodded. "That's okay, you don't have to be, even when we're having sex. We'll use condoms." She smiled softly. "Good, I think that was the last thing."

He stood up, walked over to her and leaned down so he could give her a kiss. "Then everything is ready for the next time you stay." She grinned. "Who'd say we'd wait that long?" Her tone was teasing and humorous, clearly making a joke. "Such enthusiasm to get into my pants!" Daniel exclaimed. They both started laughing.

She stood up too. "How about we start with the dishes before wandering back into bed?" Daniel sighed dramatically. "If it's so urgent, then yes, let's do the dishes first. Before our glorious first bedroom adventure." They fell back into laughter.

***

A heavenly quiet enveloped their hotel room after the frenzy at the Austin Grand Prix. It was only Saturday, but Daniel was more in demand on this weekend than on any other. It was only the third time that she was accompanying him. Their relationship was still new, and she didn't have the time to visit all of them, but this was his home race, so she took special care to clear her calendar.

When the cars were on track, she spent time with some of the other drivers girlfriends. She was also more than welcome in his team's motorhome, so she'd enjoy a hot cup there from time to time. When they left, she also knew what that entailed.

Daniel signed more autographs and took more photos than anyone else she had seen. She liked it, especially since it showed how much he cared and how much joy it brought him. It also meant that they came back to the hotel quite late.

He was peeling himself out of his clothes, to take one last shower before going to bed. She herself was still dressed and was looking at him. "Daniel?"

"Um, yeah?" He looked up at her, which made him stumble and almost fall over, since he was trying to take off his pants. She shook her head. "Finish up first. Don't want to be responsible for any injuries before the big race." He grinned in return and kicked off his jeans before picking them up and throwing them over a chair.

He turned back towards her. "So, what was it, love?" A slight smile formed on her face at the nickname, she hoped the feeling she had while he called her such sweet names wouldn't get lost with time. "I just..."

She looked away from him, not knowing how to articulate her thoughts. "Race weekends make uncomfortable. I spoke to Alexandra, she kinda understood where I was coming from, but I think you'd want to know too. I think I simply have to get used to it, but right now I am not. Your fans adore you and I know you love the interactions, but I just don’t like the way they're looking at you. The constant photographers make me nauseous, and the interviewers are even worse. What do they even want from me?"

Her gaze returned to him. "I hope you understand what I’m trying to say." She scratched her neck. "I still want to come, I love being here with you, it's just all a little much."

He nodded and was clearly thinking of an appropriate answer. His first action, however, was walking over to her and taking her into his arms. "That's valid." They stood in silence for a bit and while she was happy he hadn't said she was overreacting, which she had never believed he would do, she was hoping for a bit more.

"Thank you for telling me. That's pretty shit." He stroked over her back. "I can't, um, do much about it, the fans are the fans and the photographers and interviewers are part of it all." He looked over to the bed. "But we can talk more about it." They let go of each other and after finding a comfortable position on the bed, he continued. "What exactly is bothering you? Maybe if we pinpoint it, it'll help?"

"It's all kind of intertwined. With the fans, it's just the way you and the team present this image. You're a high performance athlete, and you also have to have sex appeal and be entertaining. It's not like that's hard, you're sexy and funny, but the whole concept is just weird. It's not that they think you're cool, or that they see you as an inspiration. I support that, I think that's important. It's when we stand in front of crowds and I know someone in there has thought about fucking you. It's not constantly on my mind, it just comes up." Daniel was taken aback.

"Yes, so I understand that. Sometimes I have moments like that too. I think everyone in my position has. I don't like that it affects you." He took her hands in his. "And the rest of the media?"

She looked at their hands, squeezing them. "I'm your girlfriend, and I'm there to support you, but they're interested in me. Yeah, only because I'm your girlfriend, but still." She let a few moments pass before continuing. "I have to get used to all that, and I will, the others did, but right now it's just really fucking weird." Her eyes search for his and he nodded. "God, yes, it's always going to stay weird. Most of the stuff that happens in the paddock is absolutely surreal. You just get used to it all over time."

"So, effectively, I'll do exposure therapy until I'm used to the weirdness?" There was a smile on her face but a genuine slight concern to her question. Daniel nodded once more. "Yes, but I'll be there with you every step of the way."

***

They were sitting on plastic garden chairs next to a tiny bike track, eating dinner. Daniel and a few friends had wanted to bike, and she and some of the other partners had decided to come along. Now, after way more rounds than she could count, some with her, most him alone, exhaustion had sat in.

The others had gone inside the little garage they used to work on the bikes for repairs to get more drinks, but they must have gotten lost in their conversation, since they hadn't returned yet.

She only noticed that Daniel had stopped eating when he started talking to her. "Out there on track today, did you like it?" He looked at her. The track here was one made for hobby bikers, nothing serious, but one could go faster than on the normal road. She looked over the track before she answered. "We all had a lot of fun, right?"

She could see him shake his head in her peripheral vision. "Did you have fun? I thought you liked biking, but in between, I thought you'd fall over before you were even on it? And I know you don't get motion sickness."

Her gaze returned to him before answering. She was hesitant. "Well... I like biking." She bit her lip, thinking of the right words. "And I like going fast on a straight piece of road, but with all the curves around the track, I, um, was kinda afraid we'd die." There was humour in her voice, but it fell flat.

Daniel didn't look angry or annoyed, he looked hurt. "Why didn't you say that? I thought you were having fun." She nodded, trying to steer the conversation towards something else. "It was cool, I loved watching you, you were clearly having the time of your life."

He nodded. "I did, but you clearly didn't." He swallowed, laying his food on the plate in front of him on the grass. "You have to say stuff like that. You don't have to come if you don't want to, and if you want to simply watch, then you'll watch." She took a deep breath, looking at the track once again. "You were so excited to take me on the bike, I wanted you to have that experience. Also, it wasn't that bad the whole time." She tried to lessen her previous statement.

Daniel shook his head. "Then I'd have driven slower, and even if I liked the idea of driving you around, I'd like it more if you were comfortable." His chair made a suspicious creaking sound when he lifted it up to sit down right next to her. "Please tell me when something makes you uncomfortable. I'm a big boy, I can take it. But if you don't, or if I wouldn't, then we'd both be down in the end."

"Okay, yeah. I'll try next time." She looked over Daniel's shoulder. Their friends were returning, drinks in hand.  She looked back at him. "Let us talk about this more tomorrow, I want to enjoy this evening." He nodded, accepting her request. "Yes, I just want you to know that that's really important to me." A warm smile formed on her lips and she nodded. "I do, I promise."

***

The music at Jimmyz was deafening, and the air was practically vibrating. The party after the Monaco Grand Prix was something else entirely. She took a sip of her drink and leaned into Daniel, who had an arm around her.

He had just come back after being away for a bit, talking to different people he had spotted. She had sat in a booth with multiple of the other drivers and their partners, a lot of fun and alcohol involved.

He leaned towards her ear. "You aren't uncomfortable, right?" He kissed her cheek, a bit sloppily. He'd had some drinks. "Just wanted to make sure you were all right."

She turned her head, kissing him on the mouth. "No, no, I'm not! The others are great. Thank you for asking." They both had to talk loudly over the music to be understood.

"That's good. Want you to have a good time!" She nodded her head, taking another sip. "Don't worry!" He nodded and turned his head, someone had tapped on his shoulder and he was buried in a conversation shortly after.

She looked around. Clubs may or may not be her thing, but she was sitting next to Daniel, surrounded by drivers that were more or less his friends and the women that were more or less hers. This was just fine by her, she liked it like this, and she knew Daniel did too.

@kigieri 2024. All rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate or repost any of my work.

[fantasylandloser]

Cuddle Buddies

pairing: rafe x reader

Summary: reader is afraid of storms and seeks out rafe one night

Word Count: 3.1K

A/N: Don't we all need a little soft Rafe for Valentines day

Warnings: mentions of sex, what is proofreading?, what is editing?, Ward bc he's a loser but he's not bad in this,

******

Staying with the Cameron family was like paradise. There was non moldy food, an entire library that you had access to and no financial stress. Ward only asked a few things of you and they were all doable. 

The only problem you’d had so far was Rafe. He hated having you and John B there and he made sure you knew it. And for some reason he paid extra special attention to making sure he gave you the most hell. Probably because John B was dating Sarah and you’d seen her go toe to toe with him before.

It’s mostly small annoyances. He’ll get in the shower before you get the chance and stay in there for an hour just to use up all the hot water. He would eat the yogurt that Rose would buy just for you, even though he didn’t like it. Sometimes he’d even blast his speakers with that god awful shit he calls music. But even though all of this inconveniences you, you still liked living here better than John B’s. 

You had only Your mom comes and goes as she pleased and eventually the bills became too much for you and you got evicted. You hadn’t seen her since and DCS had been on you and John B’s case at the same time. So when Ward offered you sanctuary you jumped at the chance and you try to do everything humanly possible to keep him pleased.

It was one of ten thousand reasons Rafe hated you so much. Everytime he turned around his dad would be praising you for being such a hard worker, such a smart girl, so sweet, so kind, so caring. It never stopped. Ward  had not offered Rafe a kind word in months, but had nothing but good things to say to you. And with that, you were a pogue. So Rafe was able to justify why he treated you the way he did for months. 

Today Ward had decided to take the whole family fishing and he wanted to welcome you and John B, even though he already had. Wheezie was reading a book. Sarah and John B were nowhere to be found. Rose was already drinking even though it was seven in the morning. Rafe was on a chair with his eyes closed, you knew he wasn’t sleeping though because every few minutes he would open his eyes, glance at you like he was waiting for something and then close them  back. You knew Ward would be coming out in a few minutes and you wanted to look useful so you got up to grab the bait. Almost as soon as you lifted the heavy cooler, Ward appeared.

 “Rafe!” He exclaimed. “What’re you doing, you see a girl lifting heavy stuff, you pick it up for her.” He threw his arms out gesturing to you. “I mean what do you do all that working out for? For show.” Ward scoffed, muttering “Jesus” under his breath. 

You see Rafe’s face visibly darken from being reprimanded. As he huffs out a sorry to his dad that he definitely didn’t look like he meant, as he got up to help you. He easily snatched the heavy cooler from you. “Try not to do that all day.” Rafe told you, his tone low. And even though you feel bad that you got him yelled at, you can’t help but return the attitude. 

“Do what?” You ask, your head jerking  back at his tone. Rafe rolled his eyes like you knew exactly what he was talking about.

“Pick up heavy shit when you see my dad coming. I don’t care what you’re trying to prove, but you’re getting in my way.” He tells you, his tone condescending. “The helpless act doesn’t work for pogue girls.” Rafe finishes, his attitude more prominent than before. You scoff at his audacity ready to go in on him, walking behind his muscular figure as he moves the bait.

“First of all, nobody is trying to be helpless. Second of all, if you weren’t always sitting on your ass then maybe he wouldn’t feel like he needed to say that to you.” You clapback, fully aware that he probably wasn’t going to let that slide.

You see the wild look in his eye when he turns to look at you, it makes you nervous because sometimes Rafe could truly be mean.  Luckily for you, Ward had called him and he had walked away.

******

You and Rafe hadn’t had any more unpleasant interactions for the rest of the day. Actively avoiding each other, to not cause trouble even though that was Rafe’s default. Ward had called it a day pretty early after learning that a storm was rolling in. and knowing he didn’t want to be in that kind of weather. 

By the time you got home, it had started raining heavily and everyone was off to do their own thing. You went up to your room and after taking a shower and cleaning up some, you allowed the rain to lull you to sleep. 

It was the middle of the night when you woke up again. The loud crack of thunder disturbing your sleep and your peace. Usually when it was thundering like this, JJ would stay with you until you fell asleep because he knew how scared you were of storms. But as of right now he was on the other side of the island and you’d have to be a crazy person to go out in that storm. When you checked your phone the clock read one a.m and you knew it would be a while before you fell back asleep. There was also a missed call and a text from JJ checking to see if you were alright. And you really weren’t. 

You didn’t know what it was about storms that got you but fear gripped you every single time, there was more than rain. You laid there for about thirty minutes, willing yourself to go back to sleep, but your attempts were a failure. After one particularly loud crack of lightning that appeared really close to you, you’d went to look for John B. But he wasn’t in his room and you knew that meant he was in Sarah’s. And you didn’t want to walk in there because who knew what they could be doing. 

Shamefully, you stood outside of Rafe’s door contemplating whether or not you were going to knock, before you heard lightning strike again. Without thinking you didn’t knock, just entering his room, knowing he would hate that. Only to see him sleeping peacefully in his bed. His covers lowered to his hips, and not a single thread of clothing present on his chest.

‘Rafe” You called, your voice hushed and almost a whisper. He stirred slightly but didn’t wake up, forcing you to call him again. He looked confused as he opened his eyes, blinking for a second. When his eyes finally focused on you. He groaned, rubbing his eyes. 

“What could you possibly want right now?” He asked groggily. 

You take a moment to swallow your pride, knowing there was an eighty percent chance that he kicked you out, and a ninety-eight percent chance that he held this over your head. 

“It’s storming.” You say dumbly. Rafe’s face scrunches up at your obvious statement. “Thanks for stating the obvious. “ He scoffs. “Get to the point, I’m tired.” He hurried you along.

“Can I sleep in here?” You whisper, your face heating up in embarrassment. 

Rafe almost laughed, as he prepared himself to say no, but when he looked at you in your cute pink pajamas and the way you were holding onto yourself. He’d always thought of himself as a protector, and obviously you thought so too if you came to him while you were scared. He knew he had to protect you, even if it was just from a stupid storm. 

Grumpily, he threw a pillow at you, and scooted closer to one side of the bed. “Stay on that side.” He tells you, closing his eyes back. You were shocked for a second, but you wordlessly climbed into the other side of his bed, trying not to further inconvenience him. Settling into his warm bed felt weird but also right, his bed was comfortable and it smelled like him, and even though you hated to admit it, Rafe smelled good. 

Your comfort only lasted for a minute before you were jumping at the sound of a branch hitting the window. Rafe groaned behind you, irritated. His arm circles around your waist and he yanks you closer to him, almost roughly. “Go. to. Sleep.” He punctuated. The weight of his arm pushing down into you. Comforting you, you realize. And before you know it, you allow yourself to be lulled to sleep, your breathing syncing up with Rafe’s.

******

Rafe and you had continued on with the regularly scheduled programming after that. Getting into dumb fights, him being petty all the time, but surprisingly never bringing up that night. When the next storm rolled around, and you knocked on his door. He wordlessly let you in and it had become a routine. Rafe even started to find himself looking forward to storming nights, even after arguing with you all day.He liked that you needed him to feel safe. No one had ever needed him before. 

The mornings had never been awkward; you'd wake up before him and leave because you were naturally an early riser and that was that. Until one particular morning, you had just been extra tired and happened to sleep later than usual. When you woke up you found your head buried on Rafe’s bare chest, which happened often and was another thing you didn’t talk about. His strong arm wrapped around your body holding you close to him, but none of that is why this was awkward. When you looked up Rafe was looking back at you. He was holding you and he was awake? He was holding you and he was conscious. He was holding you on purpose. 

He looked embarrassed to have been caught, and he was. He was just used to you already being gone when he woke up. He never got to see what you looked like when you were just laying there peacefully, not bitching, not being a kiss ass to his dad. Just sweet, and cute, a pretty girl that was laying on his chest. 

Rafe cleared his throat, letting you go as he saw the look on your face and realized how weird this was. “You snore.” He tells you, trying to deflect his embarrassment.

“No I don’t!” You scoff, rising up slightly. 

“Yeah you do.” Rafe laughs. “I thought you were choking.” He exaggerates, and you can’t help but think about how boyish he looks when he laughs. Not as calculating, or mean. 

“Whatever, I don’t snore.” You say rolling your eyes.

“Sure you don’t.”  A swift silence settles over you and Rafe is still smiling for a second. Until a knock comes to Rafe’s door, only for it to be pushed open a second later. 

“Rafe your Dad said-” Rose stops talking the minute she sees the two of you. Her eyes widen and you immediately know what it looks like. Rafe isn’t wearing a shirt, and you’re dressed in your shortest shorts, and sitting in between his legs. There’s no universe where this doesn’t look bad. It doesn’t help that both you and Rafe look like you got your hand caught in the cookie jar, faces reddening, and eyes widening and for some reason frozen.

“Oh..” Rose gasps. “I’m just gonna-” She blinks, obviously still shocked, especially with the way that the two of you stay at each other's throats. Without even saying anything else she simply closes the door leaving you two sitting there dumbfounded. 

******

“Okay guys…”Ward starts. “I called this family meeting because it has come to my attention that we need to talk about the rules in this house.” Your face reddens as Ward gives you a pointed look. John B and Sarah look confused, but Rose and Rafe look just as embarrassed as you feel. 

“I know you guys are attractive young adults living in the same house and that makes avoiding ��temptation much harder.”  You sink into your chair, wishing a hole would swallow you up the more he continued to talk. “But I think you can do it. Now we’re all close here so I think I can speak honestly. Right?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before he continues on. 

“John B no more sneaking’ into Sarah’s room before seven a.m and I want you out of there by ten every night. You copy?” John B flushes lightly, thinking he’d been stealthy before nodding. Even though Sarah protested. “Dad, come onnn.” She whines. 

“That’s the end of it Sarah.” Ward dismisses, before looking at you and Rafe, much to your dismay. “Now I don’t know what the two of you have going on, and I’m not sure I want to know-” Sarah gasps loudly at this new information, only for Ward to raise his hand up quickly to silence her for a second. “I know you’re both old enough to make these decisions-” Rafe is radio silent and you were hoping he’d speak up so you didn’t have to. “But as of right now this is the house rule, no spending the night in each other's bed, unless you’re married.” He finishes.

“Mr. Cameron, it's really not like that.” You try your face flushing. “Me and Rafe are just-” Rafe clasps his hand over your mouth, much to everyone’s shock. “We hear you Dad. Loud and clear.” He says not wanting you to tell everyone that you’re cuddle buddies or whatever the fuck you were going to say which would have ranged on the same level of embarrassing for him. You look at him in shock, pushing his hand away, but not even bothering to further embarrass yourself. Rafe saw how mad you were though, your arms crossing over your chest, and you turning your legs away from him. He also couldn’t ignore the small pout that had possessed your full lips.

“Well okay, this has gotten weirder.” Ward said,  mostly to himself, while Rose nodded in agreement. “So how about we just remember the rules, and hopefully we’ll never have to talk about this again.” Ward proposed, trying to air out the awkwardness. Everyone nodded immediately which caused him to get up, wiping his hands off on his pants. 

“Come here, son. Let me talk to you really quick.” Ward gestured to Rafe. Rafe resisted groaning and followed behind him leaving you to the questioning looks of John B and Sarah. “Rafe? Really?” Sarah asked, laughing a little. 

“It’s not like that!” You exclaim, your face heating up. 

“It looked like it was like that this morning.” Rose joined in, much to your shock. John B joined the teasing with a gasp. “How scandalous!” Sarah was laughing so hard tears started to come out her eyes.

“Guys stop!” You say embarrassed, but not saying anything else because it seemed like Rafe didn’t want anyone to know.

“Okay fine. You’re no fun.” Rose tells you, picking her drink back up and sipping with a grin on her face, leading John B and Sarah to leave you alone as well.

****

You hadn’t even glanced at Rafe in three days. You were irritated with him for making it seem like you were doing what they thought you were doing. Sex. And he felt like he’d been paying for it. He liked having your attention. Even if you were arguing with him, rolling your eyes at something he said, anything really. So to be deprived of it for three days was driving him insane.

 He looked up the weather forecast at least six times a day, praying for a storm to roll through. When he finally got lucky and heard thunder crackle down, he was bouncing with anticipation, waiting for you to show up at his door. 

When you didn’t he went looking for you, only to be surprised that you weren’t in your room. He started to check everywhere. When he couldn’t find you he swallowed his pride and opened John B’s door to ask if he knew where you went, only to see you in there, in his favorite pajama set of yours, it was silk with cherries on it. You lay in between John B and Sarah, ironically watching a scary movie. 

Everyone’s eyes diverted to Rafe. Confused as to why he was standing at John B’s door, knowing he’d never gone near there since he started staying here. “It’s after ten.” Rafe points out. Feeling jealousy stirred at the fact that you went to someone else. 

“Dad approved since she’s scared of storms.” Sarah tells him, sticking her tongue out only for him to roll his eyes. He watches you and the way your eyes went back to the TV, continuing to ignore him. Rafe didn’t think he could take being ignored by you, while you were in another guy's bed, wearing his favorite pajamas, on a stormy night. Which were his nights. 

He entered the room standing at the edge of the bed, right in front of the TV, making John B groan. He’s shirtless, it was the first thing you noticed when he opened the door. Only clad in plaid pajama pants. 

“You’re still ignoring me?” He asks, only for you to not say anything back. He hated that. It was one thing to ignore him when you were by yourselves, but it was an entire different thing to ignore him in front of other people. Especially when your relationship was so weird. Nothing spoken on, or reassured. 

“M’sorry, okay?” He mumbles. Embarrassed he had to humble himself in front of idiots like John B and his sister. This piqued your attention, never hearing Rafe apologize before, your eyes meeting his. You’re shocked. 

“Come on, don’t you think they wanna be alone.” He tried guilting.

“We’d love to be alone.” John B weighed in, leading Sarah to reach over you and smack his chest. He winced. 

When you didn’t say anything, Rafe got impatient pulling your leg, so that he could reach the rest of you better, as the rest of your body reached the edge of the bed. 

“Rafe!” You exclaimed. Surprised by the fast motion of it. He didn’t say anything, he just hoisted you over his shoulder. “We’ll talk about it in my room.” He said, not wanting to let his sister, and her loser boyfriend in anymore of his business. But truthfully you didn’t need to talk about it, because this was the first time he’d ever come to you. All was forgiven the moment you’d seen him at the door.

[johnwickb1tsch]

The Girl Next Door - V

A Constantine x FemVampire!Reader (feat John Wick!) fic based on this imagine. all chapters warnings: nsfw, blood, biting, violence, divider by animatedglittergraphics

5.  fight the good fight

When you wake again you are bouncing, bent in half slung over a man’s shoulder; the vampire hunter’s. You can tell from the intoxicating scent of his cologne, his sweat, his blood–him. It’s like catnip to you, and for a moment you just want to go back to sleep, and let him take you wherever he’s taking you. 

That’s a very bad idea, of course, and good on you for recognizing it through the haze of bloodloss and whatever other hold he has over you. You still do not understand what he is, or why he has such power over you. 

From what little you can see, it seems like you’re in a dark alley. There are sirens in the distance–the aftermath of the massacre in the club, you presume. He has got you far away. How long have you been out?

You struggle again, managing to worm free and get down, before the vampire hunter pins you against the wall of the building. “Stop that, you’ll hurt yourself,” he grouses, annoyed. He seems in much better shape than before, having stolen your blood. You, on the other hand, feel so weak you can barely stand. 

“Let go. Please let me go.” 

You must sound so pathetic that even this brutal killer softens for you. His grip changes slightly, holding you up against the wall by your waist. You have no delusions, however, that that can change in an instant. Yet…he’s looking at you with those sad dark eyes, like a man drowning. Even with the splatter of blood across his face and the crust of it dried in his long dark hair–he’s so handsome it hurts, and your fingers clench in his jacket, torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away. 

“I’m not going to hurt you, vampling. I saved you.” 

“You…ate me!” 

There is a tick at the corner of his well-formed mouth, betraying his amusement. 

“I took too much. Here, have some back.” He unbuttons his shirt further at the throat to display the strong column of his neck. Your vision zeroes on his jumping pulse like a laser sight, and you notice that intoxicating scent engulfing you again. It’s warm spices and your favorite flowers and pure man–it’s so good that you want to mold yourself to him and never let go. 

It’s a good trick, for a vampire hunter, and at least you are conscious enough to know now that it is a trick. 

“Stop that,” you scold, squeezing your eyes shut as you try to fight it.  

“I can’t help it,” he answers, his voice gone low in a way that shuts down your brain and skips straight your loins. He leans closer, his forehead nearly touching yours, engulfing you with the pure size of him and his hair swinging down to brush your face–he also smells like blood, which does not help you at all. “It’s…you. It’s us.”

“No,” you answer, mostly because you're afraid of someone having that kind of control over you, again. 

“It’s…rare,” he admits. “Who are you?”

“No one,” you insist. “I’m just a girl…who’s really good at being in the wrong place at the wrong time.” And really good at keeping a soft spot for the wrong man. You cannot stop yourself from thinking about John in that moment, and how just one night with him flung you into this strange and terrible supernatural world. Would you change it, if you could? Will there ever come a time, when the thought of him does not feel like talons digging your heart out of your chest? 

“Hmm. Maybe.” He lifts his hand to his throat, and you watch as his fingernails lengthen to sharp points, perfect for breaking his own skin in one neat, bloody line. “Here, milaya. My apology to you.” 

That ruby welling of his life’s essence smells marvelous, and you want to seal your mouth on it more than you’ve wanted anything in a good long while. Somehow, you manage to shake your head, even if minutely. “No, you’ll…enthrall me again or something. I don’t trust you.” 

He sighs. 

“I admit that I want you,” he acknowledges reluctantly. “But you need blood.”

“Yes. Let me go, and I’ll go get some. Again.” It annoys you in that moment that the efforts of your hunt all went to this man’s benefit. Dhampiro, don Juan had called him. Dhampir, you translate to English. Not human, by his own admission. 

Obviously.

He smirks a little down at you. “I saw you feed earlier. Why did you pick him?”

“He killed his wife.” 

“Ah. You like to play jury and executioner.”

“I didn’t kill him.” 

“You’ve killed others though. You’re sloppy about it too.” 

“Am not.” 

He laughs at you, a short, amused, huff, which is as good as an ‘are so’.

“What do you care?” 

“The High Table might start to care, if you make a big enough spectacle of yourself. Naughty little vampires get a visit from the Boogeyman, you know. You aren’t supposed to draw attention. There are rules.” 

“I don’t…know what any of that means,” you’re loathe to admit. 

There’s so much John Constantine could have chosen to fill you in on. Maybe he thought you’d figure it out on your own. Or maybe…he has as much trouble thinking straight around you, as you do him. If he felt a fraction of what you did, when this man before you took you–it’s no wonder you scared John off. Surrendering to that would not be easy for a man like John Constantine. 

“I’d say you need a coven to teach you, but considering what I’m going to do to the locals here…you’d better stick with me.”

“You’re…going to kill them all?” you ask, more intrigued than horrified by the thought. 

“Yes.” There is zero doubt in this man that he can do it, too. After what you saw…you guess you agree with him. Constantine is dangerous, but he could never wreak the sort of massacre this man unleashed in the club. 

And here you are, in his grasp. Well done. 

“Why?”

“Don Juan’s scheming to overthrow the High Table. They don’t like that.” 

“Wait, wait.” A hunger pang washes through you, and you grip his jacket a little harder, your knees weak. The blood dripping down his beautiful throat smells so good, but you realize this might be your chance to finally get some answers. “Who the fuck are the High Table?” 

“How do you not know that?”

“Why does everyone always ask me that instead of just fucking telling me the answer?” you snipe, practically vibrating with frustration. 

“You really have been so alone this whole time?” he asks, his dark eyes inexplicably softening for you. He looks down at you, cupping the side of your face with a paw of a hand, stroking your cheek with his thumb. Maybe it just feels good to be handled like you are something precious, rather than like a farm animal. Or maybe…you are losing your mind, but you have to close your eyes again, shielding yourself from the weight of that blackhole gaze.

“Yes.” You’re not proud of the way your voice cracks as you utter that one word. You hate it, that you think of John, and how he said he’d help you, but mostly he just disappeared on you. You know he has his own life, and his own problems…but he practically abandoned you, all while living right next door. 

It was a good trick, truth be told.  

“That’s a hard way to live. I would know.” His thumb is still stroking your cheek, and it feels so good, and you know this is madness. It has to be a trick. Everything is a fucking trick, with these guys. And yet…it’s as though you can feel this man’s loneliness, the weight of his solitude pressing down upon you, every time you look into his eyes. 

Maybe it’s because he kills everyone, you remind yourself, marveling at your unflagging ability to empathize with the most unavailable men you can find. 

“The High Table?” you prompt again through gritted teeth, trying not to give in to the urge to pull him close, to hide in the bend of his neck, to lose yourself in the heady taste of him and forget everything else. 

“They rule the Underworld. You. Me. Everything that goes bump in the night answers to Them.” He tells you this without condescension, and you could kiss him for that alone. 

“Demons too?”

“No, they’re Hell’s problem. Usually.”

“Then…the High Table are vampires?”

“Vampires. Weres. Sirens. Fey.” He tilts his head in thought. “I’m sure I’m missing something.”   

You nod, trying to digest this information while you are so starved you can hardly think. He’s named more things you didn’t even know existed, but you shouldn’t be surprised at this point. But then…if demons are Hell’s purview, what system of belief do the rest of them answer to? The magnitude of this question makes your head spin. Finding out that the Christian God was real was wild enough for you. What about the rest? 

“Wait…does this mean…all the Gods are real?”

Your leap of logic to the biggest existential question known to man seems to amuse him, the corner of his mouth curling for you. “Malyshka,” he scolds you softly. “You really want to discuss this here? Come on.”

He seems to think he’s taking you somewhere, but you resist again, bracing against the wall.   

“I’d rather…go home, if it’s the same to you.” you admit, winning yourself a tired sigh.

“I can’t…let you do that yet.” 

“Why not?”  

Again, he strokes your face with that big hand, and you feel as though he’s looking into your very soul. 

“You remind me of someone I once knew,” he admits. “A long time ago.”

Someone he lost, you infer from the longing that is woven into those words. Why does that make your heart ache for him?

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “But whoever she was…I’m not her.”

“No,” he agrees, but he tilts his head to examine you, like you are an amoeba under a microscope.  

“But the universe moves in circles, and something is happening here.” He inhales, and you see a flash of that eerie electric blue in his irises again. “I have to know what it is.”

Whatever you meant to say in answer is swallowed up by his mouth lowering to yours, a kiss that is somehow demanding and languorously slow. He claims your lips for his own, holding you to him as his tongue slides into your mouth, teasing you like you’ve done this a thousand times before. Maybe you don’t need to breathe, but he leaves you breathless all the same, overwhelmed by that pheromone scent and his hands on you, one paw at the back of your head guiding your mouth to his neck. He tastes like a miracle, strong and heady and so delicious as you drink him down mouthful by mouthful. His blood is so potent you feel your strength begin to return just from the first swallow, and the rest is pure high. 

You start to see some things, about this man whose blood is in your mouth. You see flashes of a forbidding dark forest, and fighting, so much fighting. A quaint little cottage in the woods, so humble, so warm. There is a woman whose touch feels like sunshine. ‘Yelena,’ he calls her. And with her hands in his hair and a smile on her lips she calls him…

“Jardani?”

 He jerks back to look at you with haunted eyes, pinning you to the wall with his big hand spanning your chest. Drunk on the want of him, you whine like a thwarted kitten, trying to return to the bloody font of his throat. He searches your face as though desperate for the answer to some crucial riddle written upon your features. “How…?” But does not give you the chance to answer, his mouth crashing over yours again with a new ardor, gripping you so hard that even you will have bruises. 

You cannot think. 

There is only the taste of him, intoxicating and wonderful and you cannot stop yourself from pulling at his clothes, holding him to you. You want to climb him, devour him, be inside him, as surely as his lightning-charged blood is raging through you. 

“Fuck,” you hiss when at last you manage to pull away, not for breath but just a break from this madness. What the fuck is he doing to you?

“Yeah?” he asks, seemingly with all seriousness, hoisting you against the wall with hands on your thighs like you weigh nothing at all. Your legs wrap around his waist out of instinct; he pins you with his hips, his manhood rock hard against your center. He grinds against you, his lips on your neck again, teasing open the wound he left earlier, and you can’t help but moan, soaking wet and aching to be filled. In that moment you don’t care that you’re in a dirty alley with a man you don’t even know. You know the heart of him, and right now you would swear unequivocally that he belonged to you. 

“Wow. You High Table assholes sure know how to treat a lady.”

The sound of that familiar voice makes you freeze, some small modicum of sanity returning to you. 

Your would-be lover is less civil, snarling at the newcomer in the alley. “Not a good time, Constantine.” 

“No time like the present, Wick. Put her down.”

With his attention fixed somewhere else, some modicum of clearer thought returns to you. Your first stop is pure mortification. 

There is John, standing tall with his legs spread in his usual black and white suit, and to his shoulder he is holding a large, golden…cross gun? Like he totally intends to use it if he has to. 

The sight of him makes your heart ache with longing. No tricks. No magic. You just…adore him, even while wrapped up in another man’s arms, and you realize you are as hopeless as you are smitten. That connection between you glows again. You feel it in your chest, and it helps clear the lustful ardor that a moment ago gripped you so completely.

Dhampir magic is some scary shit.

The vampire hunter–Jardani?–Wick?–looks at you as though you’ve said something out loud. His eyes narrow; he doesn’t seem to like it one bit. He does put you down, but holds you in front of him like a shield, his big hand at your throat. 

“Never thought the John Constantine would turn vampire’s familiar. Who knew?” taunts the dhampir behind you. 

“What?”

 Both men ignore your question, fixed on each other in this standoff. 

“Call it what you want,” Constantine answers stonily. “I’m the one holding the gun. Let her go.” 

“I don’t want to.”

“I see that. Nice, you always gotta use your Blood Lure to get laid?” 

“Hardly. Your little vampling here is a special girl.” 

“Yeah. But she doesn’t belong to you, Wick, so let her go.” 

“You love her?” 

Wide eyed, you can’t stop yourself from fixating on John at that question, gone grave-still in Wick’s unrelenting grasp. 

In answer, John mostly just grinds his teeth, his lower jaw jutting. “It’s complicated,” he finally admits, and though that’s never a good answer from a man, your treacherous undead heart still skips a beat.  

“I think she deserves better than it’s complicated.”

“Not from you, half breed. Let her go.” 

You feel Wick tense behind you, and you remember the absolute whirlwind of carnage he caused in the club a few blocks away, that supernatural berzerker rage that mowed down vampire after vampire. John is formidable, but you can’t help but think no one can stand up to that and live. “Please,” you say, appealing to the wall of a man behind you. “Please, just let us go.”

Wick growls deep in his chest–a chilling, primal sound that resonates through you, your every hair standing on end. 

His grip upon you flexes, as though his physical being abhors the very idea of it. You’re not really afraid for yourself now. You’re afraid for John, and unbidden you start to cry those bloody tears. “I love him,” you say in the most hushed whisper you can muster, and the moment it leaves your lips you know it’s true, and maybe it has been true since the night you made that grouchy man dinner, and he made you feel like you mattered to someone in this big mean city. “Please don’t hurt him.”

Somehow, this is the thing that seems to call this dangerous man down. For a moment his grip around your waist tightens; he inhales your scent deeply, his nose behind your ear sending a warm thrill down your spine. He speaks low, though you think John can probably hear him anyway. “He doesn’t look good, vampling. I won’t have to wait long for you.” 

Suddenly, he’s just gone. Disappeared into the shadows, as though he is made of night. 

Unsupported, you stumble, and fall right on your butt. 

John looks around warily with the strange gun at the ready, sweeping the alley like he can’t believe the dhampir had actually retreated. Slowly he crosses to you, impossibly tall from your vantage of the ground. He seemingly reluctantly offers you a hand. “You ok?” 

“No,” you answer truthfully, taking his hand, the warm strength of his grip a welcome boon. When he pulls you to your feet you want more than anything to just be in his arms. 

But all he offers you is a hard stare, and a brusque, “Come on,” as he pulls you towards the other end of the alley. 

It’s complicated, he’d said.  

Why does that have to feel right then like he hates your guts?

You’re getting tired of crying for this man. You remind yourself of this as the ball of despair rises in your throat and your eyes sting like mace. 

Did he hear you? If he heard your heartfelt confession to the dhampir, even if it saved his life…he did not like it at all. 

[shesoutofhere]

Meet Me in the Corner pt.3

Peter Parker x Reader

Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4

Summary: Mar threatens Peter, Peter apologizes, kind of, and then Peter ambushes you with a blind date.

Please ignore typos or I'll cry <3.

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

Mar did in fact have an ‘I told you so’ moment. 

Lucky for you, she didn’t rub it in your face for too long. After hearing about your interaction with Charlotte, it’s safe to say Peter Parker is no longer enemy number one. 

Mar is now afraid to leave you alone, scared that you’ll be bullied again, and has insisted on the buddy system. 

You are now walking through the dining hall, with a yapping Mar behind you. 

“What am I going to do with you? I have to leave for work but you’ll still be here for revising.” Mar says with a pout. You can't help but roll your eyes at her. 

“Mar, I love you, so I say this with love and kindness, but I really need you to leave me alone.” 

Mar gasps in shock, “That is not love and kindness. That is hate and meanness, but I’ll let it slide because you're in a crummy mood.” 

You would deny that you’re in a crummy mood but you’d be lying. You and Peter decided over a very dry email thread that you’d meet up to work on revising the outline. You had told him that it was mostly your part that needed work and there was no point in meeting but he insisted until you agreed. 

You continue to bicker with Mar, when she suddenly yanks on your backpack, halting your walking. 

“Omg, do not be alarmed but there is an absolute cutie staring at us from the smoothie line.”

You turn your head to try and see who she's talking about but realize who it is soon enough. 

You both make eye contact and you dart your eyes anywhere else that isn't on him. 

Mar gives you a “subtle” shake. “He waved, oh my gosh he just jumped out of the line.”

You still refuse to look. “Mar can we go please?” 

She grabs your shoulders, not letting you move. “Um no way, he’s coming over here.” 

Before you know it, Peter is standing in front of the both of you with a sheepish smile. Still oblivious to who he is, Mar flutters her lashes in the most Mar manner. 

Peter’s got his eyes on you though. “Hey, didn’t think I’d see you till later.” 

You can feel Mar’s eyes burning a hole into your head so you speak up. “Mar, this is that guy from the Cal project.” you could’ve properly introduced him but you're too petty to care. 

Mar immediately loses all excitement. “Oh, that guy.” Peter scowls. Too bad.

You nod, “yeah, that guy.” Mar comes around from behind you and links her arm with yours, looking Peter right in the eye. “I’ve got to get to work, but if I get any sort of text message from her about you, I will be here so quick you won’t even see me coming.” 

All Peter can do is nod his head. 

She turns to look at you with a sweet smile, “Anywho, I will see you later. Please remember to shut the window if you get home before me.” you nod your head dramatically, tired of hearing about the damn window. “Yes yes, I’ll close it.” 

Mar gives you a once-over before finally saying bye and glaring at Peter while she walks away. 

Peter lightly shivers, “Okay, so I’m assuming she doesn't like me?”

You nod, “Assumption correct.” 

There’s an awkward pause.

“Would you believe me if I told you I was in line to get you an apology smoothie?”

You shoot him a look. “No, I wouldn't believe you.”

Peter sucks in a breath, “valid, I was though. But then I saw you and acted before thinking and I didn't even get to order.”

That’s kind of sweet but you are losing it with his back-and-forth behavior. Time to listen to Mar and put your foot down.

“Look, since we're both free can we just get the revision over with?”

Peter, a bit stunned by your bluntness, just nods. 

“Okay then.” you clap your hands, “ let's go somewhere quieter.” 

Peter trails behind you, as you look for somewhere to hunker down. You occasionally look behind to see if he’s still there. When you look, you see his eyes searching all over the place. You know better than to assume but you can’t help but think he’s making sure there's no one he knows.

You finally find a quiet corner table and decide that’ll do. You plop yourself down in one of the seats and Peter does the same. 

You set your backpack on the table and pull out the outline Cal handed back to you. You slide across the table over to Peter. 

The more Peter reads, the deeper his frown gets.

With one more look over he tosses it on the table. “What the hell is up with this dude?” you assume he means Cal. 

“What? Not a fan of Cal’s critiques?” you reply sarcastically. Peter scoffs and reads the paper again. “No, our outline may not have been perfect but it was damn near it.” 

You're kind of grateful that someone is finally understanding what you meant about Cal.

You try to lighten the mood. “What are you talking about, Cal barely left any responses on your part, you should be proud.” 

Peter deadpans. 

“Nothing to be excited about if he’s gonna be critiquing us like this.” He reads it over and over again, “man you weren't lying when you said he didn’t like you.” 

You want to laugh but you're quick to remember what his friends had said about you. 

You get defensive, “Yeah well if that’s going to be an issue then you're more than welcome to request someone else.” 

You're messing with your nails when you hear Peter sigh. “I fear there's some animosity between us.”

You cross your arms and lean back in your chair. “Oh really now?” 

Peter leans forward. “I owe you an apology. No smoothie but an actual apology.” 

“I’m listening.” 

Peter fidgets with his hands, “look, those guys can be-”

“Assholes?”

“Yeah, that.” he sighs again, clearly troubled. “I met them a while back and we’ve been hanging ever since. They’re not the best but they're my friends, I guess.” 

“That” you pause, “wasn't an apology.” 

Peter nods frantically “Agreed. Okay , I really am sorry for the way they were. I should've jumped in and said something. Also, I'm sorry I told them about you and Cal.”

You sit up in your chair. “It’s fine I guess. I just don’t get why you’d want to hang out with people like that but to each their own.” you should’ve left it as “its fine'' but you really dont get why Peter is friends with them. 

“Hey, they're my friends and that's that, I don’t think I should have to explain anymore than that, I'm apologizing and that's what matters right?”

Okayy, so friends is a touchy subject, noted. 

“Okay yeah, fine, whatever.” you don't feel any better than before he apologized. If anything, you feel worse.

Peter clears his throat. “Okay, that's settled then.”

There's a hesitation between the both of you. You both go to speak and both topple your sentences over one another. Peter just points at you to go first. 

“So” you say, dragging the O. “Cal wants the revision by Friday. You can mark this copy up and I’ll just add onto the doc.”

Peter scratches his chin, while staring at the paper. “What's there to add? I meant it when I said I thought it was near perfect.” 

You sigh, “I don’t know Peter. I usually just follow Cals red mark ups and call it day.”

Peter doesn’t agree. “Well I don't wanna do that. I like what we have.” 

You stare at him, eyes wide. “You mean like not to revise at all?” Peter nods. You let out a chuckle “you expect me to turn this back into Cal, exactly how we left it? He’s going to be mad, and i'll be the one having to deal with that.” 

Peter looks like he’s thinking. “How about” he pauses “how about I turn it in with you? we’ll tag team him.”

You give him a blank stare. “Peter”

“Yes?” 

“Are you serious?”

Peter lets out an exasperated yes. “I’ll head to your class after it ends and we can talk to him together.”

He seems serious. 

Fine by you. 

“Well, if that's all, I'm going to head out. I’ll email you my class info.”

You start to pack your things up and get ready to leave, when all of a sudden Peter jumps up. “Wait!” he’s got an arm reached out while the other goes to gather his things. 

Peter stumbles to put his things away and goes to stand with you “where, uh, where you headed?” 

“The library?” you say questionably 

Peter nods, “Cool, that's cool, I was actually headed there too.”

You eyed him suspiciously, “were you?” 

“Yeah, I was. Wanna go together?”

Peter’s sudden odd behavior is throwing you off. “ I guess.” 

“Sweet, let's go.” 

Peter takes off without you. You stare at the back of his head in confusion but follow anyway. 

You trail closely behind Peter. Every now and then you catch him turning to make sure you're still following. You come up with every scenario on why he’s acting the way that he is.

Did he see his friends in the dining hall?

Is he trying to hide from someone? 

Does he really just need to go to the library? Or

Does he actually want to hang out with you?  

You're too busy spiraling to realize that you've already made it to the library. You're about to go in when Peter stops and turns around. 

“Maybe we shouldn't go to the library.”

“What are you talking about?”

Peter shrugs, getting looks from other people trying to walk through. 

“I just feel like it’s not the place to be.”

You want to be annoyed by his behavior, but you're weirded out more than anything. “Okay? Then you go somewhere else?” 

You start opening the door but Peter yanks you to the side and pulls you both away from the entrance. “Okay, what the actual hell are you doing?” Peter is silent. “Don't want to be seen or something?” 

That gets Peter talking, “What? No it's just" he trails off.

“Just what?” 

Peter scrambles for an answer. “Don't you ever feel like studying somewhere else?” 

“No, I like the library, that's why I go.” 

You pull Peter in close, worried that something is actually wrong. 

“I dont know whats going on but you're freaking me out. I am so close to texting Mar an SOS message and trust me when I say she meant what she said earlier.” 

Peter frantically waves his arms around. “No, please don’t do that! She actually scares me!”

“Look, can you just trust me when I say the library is not the place to be?”

You look at him like he’s crazy, you think he might be. “Now why would I do that?”

Peter fidgets with his hands, “Because I have really good intuition. Now can you please go study somewhere else?” 

“I-” you genuinely have no words. 

“Um, what's going on here?”

When you look up you see Nolan, looking equally as confused.

Peter however looks relieved “Nolan! Hey man.” 

Nolan, who looks like he’s just spent an unimaginable number of hours in the library, responds. “Hey? Why are you guys huddling in a corner?” 

You think this is your way out. “Okayy, So I’m going to leave now.” You try to shuffle past Nolan but Peter stops you.

“Nolan, remember that coffee spot hidden away by the architectural building?” 

Nolan still looks just as confused “yeah?”

Peter claps “great! You should take her there. I'm trying to convince her that the library isn't the place to be, right now, at this moment.” there’s a pause. “You know, intuition” Peter stares Nolan down and after a minute his eyes widen “OH, Oh, yeah.” Nolan turns to you. “I bet you would really like this place, it seems to be up your alley.” 

Peter is pushing you away from the entrance, “Yes I totally agree.” 

Nolan is already walking down the lawn before you can even get an opinion in. 

You turn around with an annoyed look “Peter you better explain what is going on right now.” 

Peter shrinks in your stare. “Um, Nolan” He pauses, “Nolan has a crush.” he pauses again, “on you and he needed a little push to help him out.” 

You still are just as annoyed. All of this was a ploy to get you on a date with his friend? 

Considering your past couple of interactions with Peter, you wouldn't put it past him.

“Peter, I am not going on a blind date with your friend.” 

Peter exhales, “Oh come on now, Just give the poor guy a chance, I mean look at him.”

You do just that and when you spot him, you see him standing in place kicking rocks around, waiting for you. 

You close your eyes and sigh, curse your sympathetic heart. “Fine but this was so poorly executed Peter.” 

Peter gives a sympathetic smile, “Ouch, I tried okay.” 

All you offer is an eye roll. 

With one more push, Peter sends you off to catch up with Nolan. When you do, he immediately starts a conversation. You turn around to glance at Peter but all you see is him bolting past the library. 

You try not to think too much of it. Completely thrown off by Peters antics, you hope Nolan doesn’t exude the same behavior and pray the rest of your day will go on normally.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Peter and Nolan are being sketchy weirdos!

Taglist:

@ifilwtmfc

@lov3vivian

@rkivesfilm

@vdlikesunicorns

@may-madness

[leviathanspain]

letting someone into my misery

aemond targaryen x reader

synopsis: you had found him after his injury, and ever since then you had been taking care of him from the shadows

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you had been sent by the older maids to collect the dirty linens from all the rooms. there were more than just a few of the targaryen house staying at the keep, and the laundry amount grew daily.

you had nearly pulled a muscle as you dragged the full basket down the hall. you grunted slightly, and paused when you heard arguing going on. you looked up from your basket and saw that the dining room door had been left cracked open. their shadows were cast on the stone wall outside, and you were stuck watching them. you didn’t even notice the doors opening, and a young boy stepping out.

you gasped softly as he came into view. you noticed the blonde hair and you bowed your head low, “forgive me, my prince.” you whispered. he had a hand over his eye and as the light flickered you noticed that there was blood everywhere. on his shirt, on his hand, even on the rest of his face.

you normally wouldn’t have even stopped to apologize, you would’ve ran away at even just his shadow. but you stepped towards him, “is everything alright?” you asked, and watched as he moved his hand away, and you finally saw it.

since that night, aemond had been thinking about you. the older servant girl who had shown him nothing but kindness, and care when no one else would. his mother’s care hadn’t been out of his best interest, and even the maesters found it a nuisance to sew his socket up. but you, who had taken him to the kitchens, grabbed a wash cloth and helped clean him up as gently as you could before making one of his favorite treats…it was a kindness that he could never repay.

prince aemond had been a lanky teenager when you saw him again. you had been dressing the beds with freshly washed sheets when he walked in. you were bent over the bed, and jumped up when you heard the wooden doors creak. you panted slightly with shock as you saw him. you bowed your head, and moved to walk past him, but his hand was already on your arm.

he had a steely grip, one even for someone as skinny as him. you didn’t say a word as he looked at you. his single eye dragged up and down your face, as if he was trying to connect the pieces.

he looked different, young but as if the becoming of a man were on the horizon.

his eyepatch must’ve been fitted when he was younger because he was outgrowing it, his scar peeking from the edges just slightly, he also had the beginnings of pinched anger on his face.

“you..” he whispered, still unsure of how he knew you, “you are a servant?” he questioned you, and you nodded, “yes, my prince.”

he shook his head, “i know you- i swear to the gods i know you.” he seemed to he mostly talking to himself, but he let you go, and without a second thought you ran from him.

the next encounter you had was another complete accident. if it had been any other targaryen member, you would’ve been dragon food without a second thought.

but you had heard the weak, angry little sobs coming from outside the servant quarters. hardly was anyone ever out there, and so you opened the door, finding the prince a sobbing mess on the floor.

you had sighed slightly, and grabbed his arm, “come with me, please.” you were more frantic at the fact that if someone saw you with him, hundreds of what ifs could’ve been said and you would’ve been dead.

but he didn’t need to even protest as he got up, and immediately hugged you.

“how could i ever forget you?” he whispered. his blonde hair brushed your face and for a moment you didn’t dare hug him back, afraid of the consequences. but the child in him popped into your head, and you embraced him, “im sorry.” you replied, unsure why but the hug had felt tighter.

aemond had admitted more than just his family secrets to you, he had admitted his sadness, his misery, and you had listened to him as if it were the last thing you’d do.

he exhaled, looking out of the balcony windows, his body spread out over the sheets you had just laid out, “i love you. i think, i have always loved you. i loved the kind girl who had helped me, i loved the woman who had hugged me, the first hug that i had ever really felt.” he could’ve continued, but the surprise on your face was enough.

he sat up, and held out his hand, “please, let me show you just how much i truly love you.”

but you had refused. as much as your body ached and called for him and his touch, the thought of it all being wrong echoed in your head.

“i cant, my prince.” your voice quivered and aemonds expression of a smirk had fallen to a thin line, “im a servant. i am no one, and you can’t love a nobody.”

aemond shook his head. he was getting upset, you could tell, and you shook your head, apologies coming out from your mouth but it was already too late.

“you are nothing. you reject me like you had a choice? i am all you need, i can make you something, someone’s mother, someone’s wife, you wouldn’t have to even think about chores yet you reject it?” he sneered, and you shook your head, stepped towards him, you climbed onto his lap, grabbing his face you kissed him, “im sorry, im sorry my love.” you swallowed thickly as he felt stiff underneath you, “please make love to me, im sorry.”

you had avoided him for months. your growing stomach was getting harder to hide especially as it prohibited you from doing a lot of the harder work. he had known, how couldn’t he? but it became more alarmingly clear that everyone else did too.

you heard a sharp clatter outside your door, and so you groaned to get up, feeling out of breath as you trudged yourself to the door, you pulled it open slightly to see aemond on the other end, his bags in hand just behind him, and a smile on his face.

he pushed the door open and kissed you, after months apart he had finally kissed you. you couldn’t hide your shock, and you immediately whispered, “what are you doing here?”

aemond chuckled, “cant i come to break my wife and child out?”

you scoffed, “im not in jail, my prince.”

he shrugged, “might as well be. come, i hear lys is especially beautiful this time around.” he grabbed your hand and began to pull you out but you stayed planted, eyes widening to what you had just heard.

“lys?” you whispered, “no, my prince. i/ i cant. your life is here-“

“my life is miserable!” he protested, “you know that. you’ve always known that- why can’t you let me have my perfect family? i want you, all i’ve ever wanted is you.” he yelled.

you winced at his tone, “please, my prince, everyone is sleeping..”

he rolled his eyes, “come with me. i can give you a better life for you and our child.”

you shook your head and pulled your arm out of his, “no. i have family just outside of the keep. i’ve been packing to live with them.”

“and you didn’t think i should’ve known? you planned to leave me and take our child and you didn’t think to notify your husband?” he scoffed, and anger painted his face.

“that’s the issue, my prince, we can’t get married, i am no one, no titles, not even this baby can take your name. stop living in this daydream, live in the reality. this,” you put a hand on your belly, “is the consequence of my reality.”

aemond had felt rage, and he shook his head, “no. i don’t care what you say, you are coming to lys with me.”

you cried, feeling tears on your face, “you’ll have to kill me to take me with you.”

and it broke aemonds heart, to hear that after all the rejection in his life, from his mother, from his family. but nothing broke his heart more than having to plunge that knife into your heart, having to watch as your body folded beneath you, heading for the ground before he caught you, taking your last breath for his kiss.

[writeforfandoms]

Fast Car 3

Find my Simon Riley masterlist

The end of the last planned fic for the zombie au! Not to say I will never write more, because who knows...

You start to find a new normal in this town. It's... different. But in a good way.

Warnings: Swearing, flirting, these two are bad at communicating, bit of one upsmanship in terms of flirting, feels.

Word count: 1k

Over the next week, you explored the entire town. Word spread fast that you were a mechanic, which had people asking you about all kinds of things. 

You really weren't sure how exactly how a clock worked, but you tried fixing it anyway. 

It worked well enough. That seemed to earn you a reputation, one you'd be happy to run with. 

Except Ghost followed you. Every. Single. Place. You went. He followed you into town every day, a silent shadow stalking you relentlessly. He never said a word to you, didn't even try to be friendly. 

By the third day of this treatment, you weren't sure if you hated Ghost… or wanted to jump him out of sheer frustrated attraction. 

The feeling did not lessen with time. Which left you glowering at Ghost every time you spotted him lurking about, even as you ignored any pooling heat between your legs. 

Look. He was an ass, but he was a good looking one. Big, strong, clearly able and not afraid to throw his weight around. 

And if that was it, you probably would have been able to ignore your attraction to him. There were other good-looking single people in town after all, you could have found someone else to pursue. 

Except he was kind, in small ways. A group of three children swarmed him, clearly used to him and not at all afraid. He took turns picking up the kids and dangling them by their ankles, much to the kids delight. 

You watched all of this from a garage, working on breaking down an engine to pull fluids for the truck. 

The second Ghost looked over at you, you lifted one oil-streaked hand to wiggle your fingers at him. Mostly because you liked poking the metaphorical bear. You refused to be afraid of him. 

(And it was easier to poke fun at him than it was to face your growing attraction to him.) 

He just looked back to the kids, saying something to them before leading them away. Back towards town, probably. You wouldn't be surprised if he didn't trust you around kids. He didn't even seem to trust you around inanimate objects.

You scowled. Damn. Well, guess you weren't allowed to get distracted anymore. 

But you thought about how gentle he could be. Too often for your sanity. 

You blamed the zombies. 

Now if only he'd be less of a jerk… you'd be in real trouble. 

It wasn't long until you were elbow deep in the truck again, alternately whistling and swearing as you worked, oil on your hands and sweat on your face. You surfaced to grab a rag, sort of cleaning your hands so you could get a drink. Gaz's girlfriend was too nice to create extra work for, so you were careful not to dirty the glass, grabbing it with the rag.

Ghost emerged from the house, wearing just a t-shirt and carrying an axe. You paused in your work to watch him, curious. 

You were not prepared for him to set up within easy viewing distance, splitting logs for firewood. 

You nearly spilled your water. 

Fucking hell. That was just not fair! 

You looked down at yourself, considering. You weren't done working yet. You'd have to bathe later anyway. 

Might as well make a show of it. 

It only took a moment to peel off your outer layer, tossing it aside and leaving you in a sleeveless bottom layer. One sneaky look confirmed that Ghost was still working, setting up the next log to chop. So you got back to work, too. 

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and you pulled yourself away from the truck, surprised to see it had gotten darker. Clouds covered the sky, the temperature dropping quickly. 

You swore, more colorfully this time, and grabbed your things quickly. You needed to run back to town, to get inside before it started pouring. 

You closed up the car at light speed, aware the car had a garage and would be fine. You didn't even bother to dress properly, just ran for the path towards town. 

You hadn't made it far when a shout of your name made you pause. You half-turned to look back, finding Ghost approaching rapidly. 

“What?” You asked, a little irritable, glancing up at the sky almost nervously. It hadn't opened up yet, and mentally you begged the rain to hold off just a little longer. 

“Faster to come inside,” Ghost offered, stopping in front of you. Closer than he normally stood. Close enough that you could see he was still breathing a little hard with exertion. 

“I'll make it home,” you said, not at all sure of that fact. 

“Come inside.” This time, it sounded more like an order. 

You crossed your arms over your chest. “No.” 

Ghost sighed hard through his nose, muttering something that sounded like “stubborn”. “Please.” It was the single driest, least plea-like word you'd ever heard in your entire life. 

“I'll just go home.” 

The sky chose that moment to ignore your own, much more sincere, pleas. The first fat raindrop landed on your nose, and then the torrential downpour started. Everything got drenched within seconds, you included. 

“Just come inside,” Ghost growled, one hand out between the two of you, though he didn't touch you. 

“Why?” You hadn't meant to say that, but you didn't retract it either. You lifted your chin, blinking rapidly against the onslaught of rain. 

Ghost didn't say anything for a long moment. Then he grabbed you, hand fitting perfectly to your waist, pulling you close until he could kiss you. 

Everything around you ceased to exist. The rain didn't matter, the chill seeping into your skin didn't matter. Nothing but the feel of his lips against yours, the little chafe of his stubble against your skin. 

You opened your eyes slowly to find him close, the brown of his eyes dark in the rain. He didn't say anything else, letting his actions speak for him. 

“Okay,” you agreed, a little fuzzy, running hot despite the cold. “But I'm calling the shots.” 

That was the first time you ever saw him smile at you.

[matchadobo]

KÖNIG; someone to come home to

wc: 5859 summary: könig found your cat and bridged the budding relationship between the two of you. warning/s: afab reader, nsfw 🔞 (please read at your own discretion, scars, könig is very shy and has social anxiety, alcohol/liquor

"oh for the love of god why do you keep running away..!" you jogged around your neighborhood, eyes frantically scanning each bush and corner of the street just to find that spotted motherfucker with doe eyes and tiny paws that'd immediately make you forget all the rage you went through while finding her.

you love your cat, she's the light of your life, much more your child. but she has this habit of wandering off during autumn, playing with the fallen leaves in places that were surrounded by many trees. you've traversed the entire neighborhood and you were starting to panic when you couldn't find her. she usually comes back when the sun sets but it's almost past six and she's nowhere in sight.

until you heard a distant purr from that one park you haven't checked since it's mostly occupied by kids so it's unlikely. but you swiftly ran to the park, only to find your cat nestled in someone else's lap. a burly, towering man who cradled her very delicately. he brushed his scarred hands by the head and ears of your cat as she leaned further by his dainty pats.

he then noticed you right away, shot up from his seat like you scared him. you broke into a smile to ease the atmosphere, it kind of freaked you out that he noticed you even though you didn’t so much as make a movement or noise. the man had his face covered with a black cloth of some sort, the only visible features of his face were his vibrant, green eyes. he wore a black shirt that looked way too tight for a man his size, brown denim pants paired with black boots. he backed away slightly when you got closer.

"hey, uh, seems you caught her." your cat jumped off of the man's arms and ran to you, you bent down to catch her. "she's my cat."

the look of clarity was evident in him when he relaxed at your words. "thank god you caught her though, i thought i lost her for a moment." you laughed nervously, hugging your oblivious cat. "i'm name." you started, walking a little closer to him to reduce the tension.

you noticed how he kind of stiffened up but managed to return back your gesture. "k-könig." he responded, thick german accent coating his speech. "sorry for kinda taking your cat." he joked a little.

"oh, don't worry about it!" you laughed, "i think she felt safe with you. cats latch onto people that make them feel comfortable."

you heard a low laugh from beneath his mask, you gave him a look at his green eyes to try and recognize him. "are you...did you just move here?"

"not really, but i'm staying for a bit here. my house is just a block away from this park."

unbeknownst to you, it was taking könig everything to not fold right now. aside from being an extremely socially anxious person, he finds you so incredibly pretty. your demeanor, how you carry yourself towards him, how you smile at him, and most of all how you somehow put him at ease; it's as if it's the first time he really wanted to get to know someone and spend more time with someone even if you two just met. he rarely stays in his house here in austria so he never really knew anyone here, nor was he aware that someone like you lives around here. if he did, he'd actually make an effort to go out regularly.

"staying a bit in here? you travel a lot?" you raised a brow, simultaneously patting your cat's head.

"o-oh yeah, i don't stay in my place much." he laughed nervously, his body language changing. könig doesn't really want to tell anyone about his line of work, much less a woman he's interested in. it's surprising enough that you didn't get scared away by his mask, and most of all how he took your cat. he's afraid he might scare you off and immediately lose you. right off the bat, he wants to take you out for drinks; but his confidence is too low because he thinks  that it wouldn’t go further than that.

but nonetheless! it's been a long time since he felt this kind of rush. musing at you and smiling beneath his mask, his heart ran wild on his chest. your cat was one thing that drew him to you, but your smile and with how your beauty shone with the golden glint of the sky. he somehow managed to hold a conversation with you whilst observing how the colors in your eyes glistened in the sunset and how your hair danced with the breeze and kept it away from your face to give him a better look.

"hey, uh." he garnered all the sprouting confidence you gave him from laughing alongside him with dry jokes and boring stories. you pressed your lips together, muttering a "hm?" as your attention was fully directed at him. he sweated a little before saying, "do you maybe wanna... grab drinks or something? you can bring her if you want." he lightheartedly invited you, laughing a little at that last bit.

your heart thumped in your chest a little too fast; finding this man so cute despite the strange cloth that prevented you from knowing the face behind it and his overwhelmingly huge size. "i think i'm supposed to say that last bit, yeah? i'll bring her if YOU want, könig." you broke into a laugh, hearing his laughter too. "but, of course. i'd be happy to."

you see him perk up a little at your reply. behind that mask, you know that he's smiling from the curve of his eyes.

reaching the nearby pub, a dimly lit place that reeked of liquor and cigarettes. the place was decorated with vintage records, paintings, and trinkets. regulars were playing pool, teenagers were in the far back shoving their tongues down each others' throats, and the old, tired bartender wiping off some cups and bottles. you two sat by the high chairs, secluded in some corner not too far from the bartender.

he ordered a whiskey while you settled for a classic scotch. not too long, you two somehow hit it off for hours: playing with the cat, playing with pool and trash-talking some regulars, getting tipsy and touching each other quite more, playing some old arcade games and destroying each other, and saying things that you two might forget in the morning.

"i'm better at pool than you." he blurted out. "your aim is just hilariously cute." he walked behind you, keenly watching if you'll trip and fall from how you stumble while walking.

"it's the liquor, i'll crush you sober!" you tried talking with no slurring, but miserably failed and evoked a snort from him. he held his alcohol pretty decently, he moved quite wonkily but still managed to walk properly. you however, had too much to drink. what could you say? you could drink a little too much when you're with someone you enjoy!

"right, how do you plan on doing that?" he caught you when you almost tried reaching for your imaginary chair that looked way too vivid in your vision, he had a firm hand on your arm as you sat back down in your previous spot. "can you even get home at this rate?"

"shut up, you're so cocky for someone who won because you're bigger." you mumbled, laying your head down on the table.

"that doesn't make sense, name. accept defeat, yeah?" you grumbled as a response, hearing a chuckle from him.

his phone rang suddenly. könig stood behind you, an arm beside your frame as it rested on the high table before taking his eyes off you and answering his phone. "we've got a mission for you, könig. kortac will be deployed in a week from now, the details will be discussed in hq at the same time. copy?"

"roger."

his heart somewhat sank at the announcement. never had he felt hesitant nor felt his heart waver at an issuing of deployment. he always completed missions one after the other passively. he didn't have anything to miss or look forward to. but when he looked at you, wasted as you almost fell off your seat if it weren't for his arm supporting you from the side, he just felt like he couldn't leave you alone now... or maybe ever?

he gestured for the bartender to bring a pitcher of water. "alright, listen to me. you're gonna drink that until you can walk and think straight, got it?" he tapped at your back placing a glass of water in front of you. you whined, taking the glass from him begrudgingly. "you have a lot of trust for someone you just met, huh."

"why, soldier? gonna do somethin' bad to the citizen you serve for?" you blurted out, chugging the entire glass of water and burping afterward. you saw how his eyes widened and how his shoulders perked up a bit from shock. "yeah, that call earlier proved my suspicions."

"aren't you blacked out drunk?" he looked away, trying to avoid the topic.

"oh please, my head's heavy and i feel like shit. doesn't mean i'm deaf and dumb, big guy." you nudged his shoulder a little. "saw the tag shining when you bent down during pool, lotsa scars for someone ordinary, you rarely live at your house means you get deployed a lot, that sorry excuse for a subtle knife pouch in your pants, and that call earlier." you listed out taking another chug of an entire glass.

"nice catch, know a soldier?" he relaxed a little, watching how you skillfully stuffed all that water down the drain you call your body.

"dated one." you responded, eyeing him whilst drinking.

"so you have a type?" he sounded cheeky, sounding like his face was smugly staring at you. "that why you're all smiley ever since we met, huh?"

you broke into laughter, fanning yourself. thanking god that you can excuse your blushing from the inebriation. "you are acting smitten, soldier. maybe you have it the other way around? no fair your face is hidden though, couldn't see if i got you smiling or something."

"what do you think then, frau?" he leaned fairly close, your knees touching as his gaze traversed your entire face.

"i think my bladder's going to explode, i'll deal with your flirting later." you winked, walking past him to the bathroom. little did you know, you left the big guy giggling stupidly to himself.

you came back and he was patiently waiting for you. "i can walk properly now."

"right, i didn't want to get home all alone when you're all wasted." he stood up too, massively towering over you.

"tch, you're saying too much for a man with a mask." you snubbed, playfully stomping out of the pub.

you two walked home, still talking about useless things and other stories and passing jokes. he held your cat close to his chest while walking, the cat falling asleep in his big grasp. "where's your house again?"

"i can walk there fine, könig. it's okay. you must be tired too, mine’s just a few houses away." you dismissed, a tired smile on your lips.

"ah-ah, i insist. it'd be improper to leave a frau like you walking alone at midnight." he strolled beside you.

"but you're pretty far from here, right?" you looked up at him.

"doesn't matter, it's not far for me." he replied. "getting worried?"

"pft, no." you brushed off, despite the smile on your face. "just don't wanna be a suspect if you were gonna be found dead tomorrow."

after a short exchange of laughter, you reached your house. "well, this is it." you concluded. "i'll be taking MY cat back."

he laughed a little before handing the sleeping feline to you. "i had a really good time, könig. good night." you smiled, musing at the vibrance of his green eyes.

"me too," he waved farewell. "good night." he backed away before finally walking away to where his house was. walking home with a smile on his face, the subtle scent of your perfume on his shirt that was decorated generously with cat fur, and a viciously, fast beating heart. he hadn't felt this kind of high from someone.

the fact that you two may or may not see each other again stayed at the back of your minds. but you two slept it off with a smile, hoping this wasn't the end of it.

that's what you thought, but you hadn't seen him in days. you forgot to get his number and what's worse is you don't know where he lives! there's no way of reaching him now.

you figured that he maybe got deployed or something, maybe that phone call from the night you two were together was it. you sighed in your realization, plopping onto your bed in despair as you reminisce about your fun, little date. slowly accepting that you wouldn't see him again. that he is just another fling or another incident to make you happy temporarily and remind you why you can't settle down with anyone.

that is until your door almost broke down from the force of the knocking down the hall. you opened the door, only to find könig drenched in the rain.

"w-what the fuck?! don't you have an umbrella?! come inside, you idiot!" you panicked, moving over to let him in. the bastard was shivering in the cold so you fetched him a towel before letting him sit on your couch. your cat immediately settled on his lap.

"start talking, könig." you sighed, sitting on the coffee table before him.

suddenly, he pulled the shirt off his head to finally reveal his once covered face. you were about to hand him a glass of water only to accidentally drop it from his gesture. he caught it though, military reflexes.

"thoughts?" he broke into an awkward smile, drinking from the water he caught. he chuckled at the priceless reaction you have. "say something, frau. it's starting to get weird here."

his auburn curls were damp and sat atop his head in a disheveled manner, some of his curls framed the sides of his face down to his jaw. his pale complexion had faint freckles and  prominent scars all over his chiseled face and body where you could see his skin. he had relaxed eyebrows and somewhat sunken eyes, though his bright, green eyes made up for it. his lips were chapped and fairly pink as the natural tint in his cheeks. but what sets his entire face off from the ordinary was the big scar that went from his right temple down to his left jaw that went across his eyebrow, nose, and lips.

"i-if it's scaring you, i c-can cover it-"

"no..!" you impulsively hugged him by his neck, both of you surprised at your actions. "i-it's brave, thank you, könig. that must've taken a lot in you to do."

"just five days of tossing and turning and regretting that i didn't gave you my number." he sarcastically remarked, returning your hug by settling both of his hands across your back.

you laughed a little before pulling away. you then took off your shirt, only in your bra now. you see him pull away immediately, beet red on the face as he averted his gaze from your body. "what the hell are you doing, you idiot! i have something to show you too."

an embarrassed "oh" escaped his lips. he tried to compartmentalize those thoughts and focused on what you were going to say. that's when he noticed the huge scar spanning from your chest down to your abdomen. "it's also my biggest scar from being in the service, i was discharged after i got it."

his eyes widened, "y-you were in the service too?!"

"yeah, that's how i met the one i dated. and how i lost him too." you tried composing yourself and swallowed hardly. "all i'm saying is, we both have these. so... none of that, none of you, is scaring me, könig." you smiled softly, brushing your fingers by his arms that were also rich in scars.

"look i, uh, will be deployed in two days." he broke out, his deep green eyes frantically mirroring his overwhelming feelings. "i was thinking if we could, you know, if you'd want to go somewhere with me to make the most of my leave?"

you teared up from laughing, either from joy or endearment. "you didn't have to be so dramatic and run in the rain about it, though. but yes, let's do that."

a wide smile made its way to his face, the vast amount of scars contrasted the joy he had in his eyes and lips. a putty feeling made his chest tight as he sat face to face with you, your scars and his visible to each other. it's the first time he ever shared something like this with someone. once strangers a few days ago turned into something more because he decided to drag his ass to you and not let his thoughts get the best of him, and he was proud of himself because of that.

you lent him an umbrella and told him to meet up at the airport after packing his stuff. and you carried on with yours too, a sudden trip with him would be a rush you'd never thought you'd experience. you've thrown in some outfits, body essentials, undergarments, and the like to try and take your mind off of him and wipe that lovesick smile on your face. but failed of course.

soon after, you two met at the airport with your suitcases. you waved at him cheerfully, smiling as he got closer. "thought you were gonna stood me up." you joked, nudging him a little. "soldiers are always on time, right? what happened to you?"

"i got lost?"

"save it, let's get our tickets now." he took your suitcases as you made your way to the ticket counter for both of your tickets.you already booked tickets before you packed hours ago so it all went smoothly, soon enough you two made it to paris.

you two had spent an afternoon eating at artisan food markets for lunch, shopping at boutiques (mostly you), taking pictures in museums, and ending the day biking to your hotel. the day was cut short since you two arrived at lunchtime, but you two had planned a lot for the next day.

you two had a problem with the hotel though, "well, we booked a hotel on the same day so... we can't really complain about having only one bed."

"...i'd just sleep on the couch or something. whatever you're comfortable with." he insisted on the elevator, kind eyes looking at you beneath the mask.

"i had fun today, könig." you blurt out, not even thinking you did. your eyes were tired from the nonstop journey from flying to roaming about the lively streets of paris but it all reflected your words.

he stared at you for a while, a smile beneath his mask. he was about to say something when the elevator ding interrupted his thoughts that were already clouded with you.

you insisted on taking a shower first because, god, you felt disgusting and embarrassed sitting next to him while you were this smelly. once you got out, you notice how he doesn't wear the cloth on his head anymore as he waited for you and shimmied through the channels in a language he doesn't understand. he shortly followed after taking a bath, bumping his head by the shower multiple times; you giggled at the sound of his curses and the thumps he made.

the bed was king-sized, so it fits the two of you with enough room for personal space. it wouldn't bother you to sleep with him though as  you feel comfortable with him, knowing that you spent the entire day with him. him taking off the mask when it's only the two of you proved enough for him to trust you, so you could do the same.

könig on the other hand though, was a mess talking about it though. "a-are you sure?"

"100%, it's big enough for the two of us don't you think?" you plopped yourself down the bed, sinking in the sheets. "plus, you're not gonna fit that couch."

he complied awkwardly, not knowing how to position himself nor if he should touch you as he settled on that one spot on his side of the bed. you couldn't sleep while he was being uncomfortable so you sat up and tapped on his shoulder.

"is sleeping with me bothering you?"

he looked over his shoulder, a worried look on his face. "i might crush you or something, or i might touch you inappropriately, or i might-"

"hey." you placed a hand on his arm. "i already told you, könig. i agreed to this. i trust you, okay? you'll be fine." you gave him an assuring smile before telling him good night. you two slept soundly that night, tangled in each other's arms.

the next day, you two went to disneyland and spent the entire day there. going ride to ride, stuffing yourselves with character-themed foods, you and him competing in those booths that have prizes, betting on who will scream first during horror attractions, getting some souvenirs by the shops, and tiring yourselves out from the number of rides in this park. laughing alongside him while enjoying the fun of paris has brought you nothing but that fluttery feeling under your skin and that uncontrollable beat of your heart.

once sunset came, you two ended the day with a boat on one of the canals. an intimate ride where you two didn't notice your intertwined fingers. after buying some bottles of scotch and whiskey, you two made it back to the hotel for the night. he popped the bottles open, drinking from the bottle and sharing it with you.

"so, last day, huh?" you started, downing a sip. the tv in the background faintly dulling the silence.

"you gonna miss me?" he replied with a smile on his face as he winked at you, chewing on some chips you bought.

"hmm, maybe." you shrugged, reaching over for the chips. "it'd suck if we just left it here, though."

"left what here?" he raised a brow. "the mess?" he gestured at the untidy sight of your room.

"are you that dense, könig?" you huffed a frustrated sigh. the puzzled look on his face not faltering, still waiting for clarity from you. "jesus christ, men really are that fucking dumb, huh."

you placed the bottle down, leaned over to him and sat on his lap, placed a hand on his cheek while the other was at the back of his head, and collided lips with him. it went on for a while, you feel him suck in a breath from your actions, making you smile through it.

the kiss got deeper and you wrapped your arms around his neck, his massive hands settled on your waist to hold you as he returned your kiss. the taste of alcohol lulling you closer to him and drunkening the both of you even more.

you pulled away and touched foreheads with him. "so that's what you want, spatzi?" könig remarked, giving the corner of your lips a peck.

"how did that feel?"

"liberating." he replied, "do you maybe wanna..."

"go all the way?" you finished, "thought you'd never ask."

he chuckled before kissing you again, licking your lips, and exploring your mouth. he carried you effortlessly by your bum as he sat by the edge of the bed. only to be pushed down by you as he lied flat and watched you take your clothes off.

you rubbed your core on his clothed crotch, he sucked in a deep breath from the sensation whilst he returned  your kisses. not long after, he was in his boxers and you were only in your bra and underwear. after he discarded the last article of clothing on you and him, he roamed his hands across your body, especially the scar you showed him yesterday. he easily flipped you around and now, he was on top of you.

he leaned down and placed kisses on your chest where the scar began, the middle of your mounds, and down to your stomach where the scar ended. he went back to your face and placed kisses on your cheek then back on your lips, "you sure about this?"

you nodded as his final green light before he dipped down to your sopping crevice. he knelt down on the floor and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed by your thighs before he licked a long trail on your core. you hitched a breath, fisting the sheets as your legs trembled in his grasp. he had a fixed eye on you as he devoured your soaked core, he nibbled on your clit and sucked soundly on your folds while he played with the bundle of nerves on your mounds with his fingers. he took his time with you, he didn’t stop until your legs shook and stuttered as you reach your climax.

he soon came back to you, kissing you once more. your hand trailed down his toned torso, down to his firm length; you felt him shiver a bit at your touch as his lips stuttered on you. you smiled through the kiss and maneuvered him despite his size as you got on top of him. 

you soon admired the beauty of this man, as he lay bare before you. you notice him becoming self-conscious  as you stared at him for a long time that you hadn't realized that you were doing it for too long. "hey, don't get shy with me now. you know why i like staring at you so much?"

"why?" he shyly answered, hands awkwardly placed on your hips.

"because i like you, i like looking at you. i'm savoring the fact that your mask is off, that you're able to trust me with this. it must've been hard for you but you still agreed with me, right?" you said with a smile, a hand on his cheek as he leaned on your touch. 

you began peppering hickeys on his neck, across his chest and abdomen. kissing all of his scars across his chiseled body. until you reach his prodigious length, he grew shy as you wrapped your hands around it. you licked the tip, circling your tongue around it to get him going. until you gobbled him whole, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he threw his head back at the warmth of your mouth. simultaneously pumping his length whilst bobbing your head gave him the pleasure that penetrated every muscle in his body. beneath his abdomen, a ticklish feeling bubbling up that left his member twitching  in your throat. not long after, his sweet release shot ropes down your throat. 

as he unsurely positioned himself on you, he took a while to gaze at you and the comparable size of his length. he placed both of his arms to support his weight by your sides, lowering himself down to give you a peck on the cheek. “tell me if it hurts.” he assured with a smile before wedging his thick length down you. 

he pressed his forehead to yours as he slid in slowly, both of you hitching a breath at the first stretch of your tight cunt. the warm and teeming feel of how your walls tightly enveloped him as he slid further until the head of his length reached your cervix; you squealed at the sensation, he chuckled while tucking a hair in your ear. as he tried and started moving, trying to detect if he’s hurting you in any way while he’s balls deep in you. but the only thing he saw was how you shut your eyes tight and how carnal, melodious moans left your agape mouth. he took it as an opportunity to buck his hips back and forth, sliding his length to your entrance back to the end of where he first settled, his dog tag clinking by its chains in chorus with his filthy movements. 

it was pure fucking bliss to you, it’s like you’re high on some sort of drug. the overwhelming length of him and how he was panting just as heavy as you are from the unparalleled sensation you two are in right now. you pulled him by his dog tag and he met your lips, swallowing all your moans as hips simultaneously tried finding the rhythm you two are comfortable in. 

once you two pulled away, he gazed at how his length disappeared from your crevice from time to time then back at your face which was flushed red. he planted hickeys on your shoulder, playing with your mounds with his tongue, and left handprints on your rear. 

lost in the same ecstasy; you kept grazing your nails across his back with each sinful thrust, biting on his neck with each moan of your name that left his mouth, and clawing at his chest with how good he fills you up. it almost felt like time wasn’t running and you two didn’t care how loud you two are nor how feral the creaking of the bed sounded. 

soon after, you were now on top of him. you bounced on his lap slowly, it’s a rhythm you two got used to. his hands were settled on your waist while the other was on your rear, helping you keep up the motion. your hands were caressing one side of his cheek while the other rested on his chest to support yourself. you bent down where you can press foreheads with him once more as your hips moved up and down, gradually sliding up and down on his length in a manner that drove both of you crazy. you two exchanged breaths and moans at the turmoil of pleasure that lulled both of you to a drunken state of each other, no talking was needed as you both looked deeply into each other’s eyes with much fervor. beads of sweat started budding on the surface of your skin at your nonstop intercourse. 

“you’re sweating, schatz.” he whispered, grinning afterward when he wiped the beads of sweat on your forehead with the back of his hand.

“you’re one to talk, you’re panting like an animal in heat.” you returned, hoisting yourself up as you steadily sat on his length. “want to take a break, colonel?” you cockily raised a brow, hands roaming on the span of his chest.

“you’re just pushing it now, huh.” he sat up too, getting a firm hold of your waist. “that’s lieutenant colonel to you, major.” 

his swift moments almost made you stumble and fall if it weren’t for the large hands that supported you. “ready?” he whispered in your ear and before you could answer, he rammed into you so fast you couldn’t even so much as choke a word. your chest is on the verge of exploding from the unruly pace of his hips as he drilled deep in you. it went on for a while, crude moans that got your neighbors turning their heads and almost disturbing the both of you; it’s not like you’d stop for them though. you later ran out of breath and your body got limp from the overstimulation of his length.

you two just lay in the bed afterward. you were between his legs and he was behind you, rubbing your stomach gently while placing kisses on your neck. “didn’t know you were gonna give up that fast, name.”

you elbowed him as a response, “alright, i know i got too excited. not my fault you got too sexy. i had to do something, liebling.”

there was silence after a little laughter from the both of you, it then occurred to you his inevitable departure would not be too long from now. “hey, what time are you leaving?”

“they’d need me before the day ends.” he cleared his throat, a weighing feeling went back on his chest. “this is the first time i felt like i’d wanna bail on a mission.” he chuckled dryly, gazing at the peeking sun of dawn by the large windows of your hotel.

“we should probably get going now, don’t wanna miss our flight-” you planned on leaving his grasp to stand up and get ready, only to get pulled closer. 

“we can stay for a little more.” he mumbled. “please, mein liebe.” he buried his face deeper at the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent more until he grew tired of it. 

you smiled, complying with his request and staying like that for over half an hour. eventually, you two had to fly back to austria and make it to his headquarters there. it was an inevitable parting between the two of you. it’s not like this feeling is new to you, you knew very well what happens when dating a soldier. you became one and dated one. but this one was extra fucking sadder, you don’t know why but now that you saw what’s beneath that mask and mountain of clothes—you’d never want to let him go, you just had to protect him and give him all the love he deserves. 

you two now parked before the building of his headquarters. after saying bye to your cat, he finally dreaded saying goodbye to you. “come on, könig. it’s not like we’ll never see each other again. you’re not about to let yourself get killed, hm?” you lightheartedly tried calming him down. 

he didn’t say anything and hugged you, pulling you by your neck with one arm while the other held you close by the small of your waist. “i promise to come back, vögelchen. you keep yourself safe here, you got it?” he pulled away, a gentle hand on your cheek. 

“you’ve got some nerve ordering someone who ranked higher than you.” you hit him on the chest playfully. “i’ll keep my promise if you keep yours.” you fished out something in your pocket, it was your old dog tag and handed it to him. “okay?” you searched for any affirmations in his green eyes.

he plucked out his own dog tag from his neck and gave it to you instead, he wore what you gave him. “copy.” amidst the cloth, you can see the tears in his eyes form and cascade down his face. you gave him one last tight hug, got under his mask, and gave him a long, deep kiss before sending him off. he waved goodbye one last time before disappearing into the building. 

“so you found someone, huh?” horangi greeted him by the entrance. 

“quit the snooping and let’s get to the conference room, i’d like to make this shit quick.”

this is my first time writing for könig and cod, forgive my sins my senpais 😭🌷

[footygirl114]

Capitana (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

It’s me, hi, I‘m the problem! I have been so freaking busy that I haven't had time to do anything, but today I got reminded of this prompt and it stuck with me and I had to get it out. I can definitely add more to this story, but I wanted to post something for y’all, so we can consider this a part 1. If you are a below deck lover then I hope I have done it justice!!

As you were standing on the stern of your boat waiting with your crew you were dreading the upcoming charter. You had seen the preference sheets and you knew that you were waiting on a group of 8 footballers, the last batch of footballers you had were awful and demanding so you were dreading. 

You had worked your way up in the yachting industry starting as a deckhand. You have been fighting your way up the male dominated career ladder getting passed over for jobs when you were the better candidate, until 3 years ago you were able to finally take the leap and become captain on a super yacht based in the Mediterranean. You got to where you were because you weren’t afraid to do things your way and your current owner knew that and loved it. 

The charters you have been the captain for have been nothing but successful. You had curated a reputation of being cold but amazing with guests, which has meant that your crew was like a well oiled machine. Normally you were excited about picking up new guests, you loved to meet a variety of people but you mostly loved the look on their face when they had the time of their life all because of a female captain. 

That reaction was either in awe at a female captain or in complete disbelief that a female captain was able to provide this kind of service. The second reaction was your favourite, which is why taking a group of footballers on a 5 day trip to Ibiza did not excite you. They would not be in disbelief but it was more likely that they picked your boat because they knew you provided private excellent service. 

You lived and breathed boating, it didn’t mean you weren’t into sports but being Canadian you were a hockey fan more than football. You knew of female footballers so you recognised the names coming on the boat, but you didn’t know what to expect. 

When you were waiting with the crew to board you could hear your Chief stew and the chef talking about how good of players they were. You listened in and knew that you had some of the top players in the world coming on your boat, that excited you.

Before you had any time to think about it some more you could see the group walk across the gang way on to your boat. You were immediately met with a group of very good looking, fit players. You immediately jumped into your role and allowed them to introduce themselves to you and your crew. Once that was done you started the introduction. 

“Good afternoon! Welcome aboard Serendipity, I am your Captain for your journey and I am excited to have you on board! This is Kate and she’s the chief stew and she will take you on a tour of the boat” you finish your introductions and allow Kate to jump in. 

While she’s talking you can’t help but notice the last player that walked on the boat, she had introduced her self as Alexia. You were intrigued by her expressive eyes and quiet demeanour. You could tell within the first 5 minutes that she had a quiet leadership about her, and that the rest of the players respected her. 

When they started their tour of the boat and she met your eyes you knew you were in trouble, it felt like she could see into your soul with one lock of eyes. Before you could break eye contact she shot you a wink flustering you to the point you almost stumbled over your bosun as you turned to get away. Feeling your cheeks redden you mumbled an apology and then said to the crew “Were off the dock in 15!” as you strode away to captains nest. 

You got the boat off the dock, and then spent the next few hours remaining up in the bridge doing work, not hiding out. When you finally emerged it was before sunset and you had just docked the boat for the night off the coast of Ibiza. You headed toward the swim platform where your crew was getting it set up as the guests wanted to swim before they got ready for dinner. 

You knew the guests were enjoying sunbathing while you were driving the boat, but didn’t think twice about coming to make sure they were okay. You forgot that they would all be in bikinis and being professional athletes they were all ripped. Normally you could ignore this with your guests as you were a professional and able to compartmentalise. Yet seeing Alexia in a bikini you short circuited, almost like you were back in high school seeing the girl who made you realise you were into girls in her bikini. 

Feeling the heat on your cheeks you blushed watching her dive off the back of the boat into the water. Luckily you got pulled away and had to help one of your crew with something before you could do something stupid, like jump in after her. Once you were done with them in the locker, you emerged back on the swim platform as she was getting out of the water climbing on the ladder, with water dripping down. It was like one of those scenes from a movie. 

She noticed you and smiled and stopped in front of you with a “hola Captain.” You could feel her eyes running up and down your uniform.

“hi” you muttered out feeling your cheeks burn at her appraisal and you turned grabbing her a towel handing it to her. 

She took it with a smile and a “gracias” as she used it to wrap her around her self. 

Once her abs were covered up you felt more confident in holding a conversation and you ask her “how was the water?” 

“Perfect, I am jealous of you being on the water all the time” she says with a smile as she moves beside you so you can both look out over the water. 

You smile and tell her “well I grew up in Canada and spent most of my time on frozen lakes, so this is paradise.” 

She laughs and you immediately know you want to hear that sound again, she then says “I can understand why you want to work on the med then” 

“Oh you can?” you ask her with a raised eyebrow.

She turns towards you and says “I can, its beautiful out here” she waves her arms around but her eyes remain locked on you and you can feel the flush on your cheeks again. 

You are saved by your radio going off, and one of your crew needing you. “Sorry, I gotta go” you tell her with a smile and a shrug of your shoulder. 

She smiles and says “of course captain, duty calls.” 

You smile and send her a wink as you turn and head up the steps towards where you were called. As you are walking all you can think about is her smile and laugh and you know that you are going to enjoy this trip more than you thought. 

**

Later that night, you had thought most of the guests had gone to bed as it was quiet and after midnight, you were still up reading under the moonlight. You had changed into sweatpants and a hoodie, so you take the chance to sneak to the kitchen to get a mug of tea before you go to sleep. 

You make it to the kitchen and make your tea without being seen. You are heading back up the stairs towards your cabin when you hear above you on the steps “Hola.” you look up and meet the eyes of Alexia, who is in her pjs. 

You step up to the step below her and pause looking up at her asking “what are you doing up?” 

She smile down at you and puts her hands on your upper arms pulling you up to be on the same  step as her as she says “I was coming to see you Y/N” 

Smiling you ask her “yeah?” and you turn and place you tea on the table beside you. 

Placing her hands on your hips she pulls you into her and whispers “yeah” before she closes the distance and presses her lips to yours. You wrap your hands around her neck and deepen the kiss. You get lost in her for a few minutes before you hear a radio a floor below you. 

You break the kiss and look at her and tell her “I’ve missed you Ale, will you come stay with me and sneak out in the morning?” 

She smiles and says “yes, I’ve missed you too hermosa. I hate when your on week long charters.” 

You hear movement again below you and say “Come with me” you tell her and pull her by her hand to your cabin. You get there and close the door behind her and she immediately lies on her back on your bed. You smile and tell her “I really like you in my bed Ale.” 

She opens her arms and you slide into them as she says “I’ve missed sleeping beside you hermosa” as she presses a kiss to your head. 

You smile and settle deeper into her, as she adjusts the covers around you and reaches over to turn the light off. You smile and press a kiss to her cheek and whisper “goodnight babe” 

Pressing another kiss to your head she whispers “goodnight captain.” Listening to her breathing even out you thought back to when you met.

You had met the football star 3 months ago, at a farmers market in town. You both got to talking while waiting for smoothies, one thing led to another and it was midnight and you had been on the best unexpected date of your life. It took her less than 12 hours to reach out to you and the rest is history. 

With her status, and you being involved in customer service of high end clientele, you both decided to keep it quiet until you both felt comfortable coming forward. She didn’t even know until the day before the charter that it was your boat she was one. Someone else planned the trip and she was added on last minute.

You knew the next few days would be hard trying not to show everyone you were falling deeply for the football star, while also trying to keep your hands to yourself. That was a tomorrow problem and tonight you were going to enjoy falling asleep beside her after a week of being at sea without her. 

[ladykailitha]

The Promise

Just a little sweetness to break up the absolute angst fest I’ve been working on. I’ve have cried so many times writing the next few parts, my little romantic heart needed a break.

So I jumped on the “they met as children” bandwagon.

Or you can read it here on AO3

*

Eddie wandered around Steve’s bedroom as Steve went to answer the phone. He wasn’t surprised to see that the room held little personality. Not because Steve was a blank slate by any means. No, it was more that judging from what Eddie knew about Steve’s parents and the way they forced conformity on him.

So the book shelf was a bit of a surprise. Four neat little shelves crammed with books.

Steve opened the door and asked, “Hey, what are you doing?”

Eddie looked up from the bookshelf feeling caught out. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snoop. It’s just everyone says you don’t read, so the bookshelf was a bit of a surprise.”

Steve scoffed. “They only say that because I don’t read fantasy or science fiction. I read other stuff.”

“What’s wrong with either of those two genres?” Eddie asked, moving away from the shelf to sit on Steve’s bed.

Steve shrugged. “I guess I never found the right kind of fantasy, especially since you told me that there are so many sub-genres. I guess I got overwhelmed.”

Eddie nodded. Not every fantasy book was for every person. He would have to go through his books and find a nice variety for Steve and figure out what he liked.

“And what about science fiction?” he asked.

Steve wrinkled his nose. “I hate it. And I’ve read all of the supposed greats, too. Jules Verne, Isaac Asimov, Frank Herbert, Robert Heinlein, Ray Bradbury. They all spend so much time on the science that they don’t get to the fiction. And it hurts my head.”

Eddie sighed and cocked his head. He couldn’t fault that. “So what do you like?” Steve cocked an eyebrow at him and he laughed. “I didn’t get to read any of the titles before you came back.”

Steve still eyed him skeptically but came over to sit on the bed next to him. “I like biographies. Mainly sports but a couple historical figures too. Winston Churchill was interesting. Diary of Anne Frank. But mostly I like mysteries.”

“Mysteries? Really?” Eddie said lightly. “Will wonders never cease. So who’s your favorites?”

“I like Agatha Christie, of course, Nero Wolfe, Sherlock Holmes...” he trailed off. “The classics, I guess.”

“Nothing wrong with the classics,” Eddie said. “What’s your favorite Holmes story?”

Steve hummed. “I would say ‘The Adventure of the Silver Blaze’.”

Eddie frowned. “I don’t think I’ve heard of the that one.”

“It’s where a horse goes missing right before an important race and the trainer is found dead,” Steve explained, starting to talk excitedly for the first time since he caught Eddie going through his bookshelf.

“Whoa!” Eddie teased but Steve laughed. “Why do you like it so much?”

Steve blushed. “It’s one of the few times that Dr Watson finds an important clue.”

Eddie lit up with interest. “Yeah? What was the clue?”

“That the horse tracks start coming back about half way through.”

“And Holmes was so focused on seeing the clues in front of him that he forgot to look to the side?” Eddie guessed.

Steve nodded. “It’s really cool.”

“Now here’s the really important question...” Eddie said, leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees. “Poirot or Marple?”

Steve who had leaned forward before Eddie asked the question, threw his head back and laughed.

“Poirot hands down!”

Eddie put his hands over his heart. “No! Say it isn’t so!”

“Afraid so,” Steve said with a grin. He leaned over the bed to pull out his favorite book. “Elephants Can Remember.”

“It’s about a girl who’s future mother-in-law wants to find out if insanity runs in the girl’s family because when she was a little girl her father was with her mother both found dead on the top of the cliff near their home. Was it a double murder? Murder/suicide? And if so, who was the one that killed them both, the mother or the father?”

“So this old bat comes to Poirot to find out?”

Steve nodded. “It’s really good.”

“Huh,” Eddie said. “That does sound interesting.” He began leafing through the pages when a piece of paper fell out. “What’s this?

Steve shrugged. “Just a piece of paper I use as a bookmark sometimes.”

Eddie eyed suspiciously. Steve was far too causal about this little piece of paper.

He turned it over. There was a circle around a heart and a little note that said, “This is the best ring I can do right now, Love E”

“What’s this?” Eddie asked, his breath catching in his throat.

Steve blushed. “The first person I ever kissed.”

“Eleanor Jackson gave you this?” Eddie asked. He had heard the story of course. Everyone had. How when Steve was ten Eleanor declared him to be her husband and would kiss him every day on the playground. Everyone thought it was cute. Personally, it made Eddie gag. Mainly because no one had asked Steve what he thought.

But Steve was shaking his head. “She was the first girl I kissed.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me, what?”

Steve looked down and began picking at a loose thread on his comforter. “I don’t even remember what his name was and since he only signed it as ‘E’ I guess I probably never will.”

Eddie looked down at the note again. “Tell me about this boy.”

Steve bit his lower lip. “When I was eight, my aunt took me out to one of the lakes to play on the beach. I don’t even remember which one. But there was this dark haired little boy making a sand castle too close to the water and would get frustrated every time a wave came up and destroyed his hard work.”

Eddie grinned. “Sounds cute. Even if he seems a little dim.”

“I asked why he didn’t simply move further up the beach,” Steve said, remembering with a fond smile. “He said that he had. Twice!”

“Oh the poor little bastard,” Eddie said, nearly doubling over with laughter.

“So I convinced him to make little soldiers instead for the waves to deliberately carry away.”

“Awww...” Eddie said. “Did he agree?”

“We made a game out of it,” Steve said. “Who could build the fastest army before the wave came back.”

Eddie was cackling now. “So who won?”

“He did by a landslide,” Steve said. “I could only manage to make three or four but he made ten!”

Eddie shoved his hair in his mouth to try and stifle the laughter. “Oh god, you are so competitive. How on earth did you handle that?”

Steve tipped his head back and sighed. “I pouted.”

“Of course you did,” Eddie said.

“It’s how I got my kiss though,” Steve said. “So I really couldn’t complain.”

Eddie tilted his head to side. “And how did that work?”

“When he saw me pouting, he kissed me,” Steve murmured. “Said that he had seen his mom do that with his dad when his dad pouted.”

“Cute!” Eddie said giggling.

“I kissed him back in retaliation,” Steve said. “He was just so sweet.”

“He really sounds like it,” Eddie said softly, looking down at the note. He crossed his legs and looked up at Steve. “When did he give you the note?”

Steve mirrored his position. “Just before him and his parents left. He told them he had forgotten something. He rushed back to me and gave me the note.”

“That’s real sweet, Stevie,” Eddie said. “So you just told everyone it was from Eleanor Jackson and kept it safe all this time.”

Steve nodded. “Everyone thought it was so sweet that she wanted to marry me, but I hated it.”

“Because you were already engaged to someone else,” Eddie teased. “Oh my what would Nancy think? You were cheating first!”

Steve protested, “Hey! It wasn’t like that!”

Eddie grinned. “I know, big boy. I’m only teasing you. You look so pretty when you blush.”

Steve pouted.

Eddie leaned over and pressed his lips to Steve’s.

Steve gasped. “Eds?” he asked, unsure.

“I learned that from my mom,” Eddie whispered as he worked a ring off his right hand. “Sorry it’s late, darlin’, but I finally got you a better ring.”

He slipped on Steve’s ring finger on his left hand.

Steve stared at the ring on his finger in awe and something softer, more dear.

“Did you know the whole time I was tell the story that it was you?” he asked, suddenly shy.

Eddie shook his head. “Not at first. I didn’t remember the sand castle or the little soldiers. Remember the kiss, though.”

Steve looked up at him through his eyelashes. “Yeah?”

“Of course I remember the first person I ever kissed, Steve,” Eddie cried. “Like you, I didn’t remember the boy’s name. I don’t think you ever said.”

Steve blushed. “Probably not,” he admitted still shy.

Eddie kissed him again and Steve melted into it. “So pretty boy: gay or bisexual?”

Steve frowned for a moment, thinking. “I want to lean more to toward bisexual because of Nancy, but the more I think about our relationship and how we are much better as friends, I start to wonder. And then there’s Robin. What straight or bisexual man suddenly stop having feelings for a girl just because she said she liked her own gender?”  

Eddie nodded. “You’ve dated women pretty exclusively, did you feel anything for any of them? A spark, a floppy feeling in your stomach?”

Steve shook his head. “The closest I ever got to that was with Nancy. I was happy with her. Maybe no sparks or fireworks or anything like that, but she made me happy. So I thought that’s what love was.”

Eddie smiled, “And now?”

“Happiness is just a start,” Steve said, pulling Eddie back for another kiss.

Eddie grinned against Steve’s lips. “Well you make me pretty happy.”

Steve looked down at the ring on his hand. “We haven’t even dated and we’re already engaged,” he said with a laugh.

Eddie moved to sit next to Steve and picked up his hand to admire the ring. “I didn’t think I would find you again. And even when I entertained those thoughts, I would come up with scenario after scenario where we hated each other because we become such different people.”

Steve blushed. “My nightmare scenarios where were I found you again only to find out you were already with someone else. Or you tell me that it was a youthful indiscretion and that didn’t mean anything.”

Eddie kissed the ring gently. “Turns out we were both wrong.”

Steve chuckled. “I’m glad we met when we did, Eds. Again, I mean.”

Eddie cupped Steve’s cheek with his other hand. “Why’s that, sweetheart?”

“I think our nightmares would have come true,” Steve said softly, closing his eyes and leaning into Eddie’s touch. “Only it would have been me telling you it was a youthful indiscretion so Tommy would still like me. And then we would have hated each other. And I can’t stand the thought of that. Not now. Not now that I’ve gotten to know you.”

Eddie smiled softly. “I know what you mean, baby. And I’m grateful, too.”

Steve kissed him again and let Eddie lower them on to the bed.

“You’re so beautiful,” Eddie whispered. “You were beautiful then and you’re even more so now.”

“I love you, Eds,” Steve murmured. “I think I always have.”

Eddie grinned. “Me, too,” he murmured against the skin of Steve’s neck. “Me, too.”

[avsarchivez]

how my fav total drama ships show their love

djwen:

dj shows his love with literally ANYTHINGGGG like he’s a complete sap. he’ll show his love by cooking for gwen, kissing and hugging gwen, complimenting and telling gwen sweet nothings in her ear and more. gwen shows her love by making drawings for dj and just being by his side and cuddling up to him 24/7. dj is 100% gwens sweet spot, he showed her what real love is like. they are soooooo in loveeee.

duncney:

ok this one’s a little hard because they both are desperately in love but are terrified to show it because they don’t want to look weak. duncan shows his love towards courtney with physical touch, it’s sexual 99.999999% of the time, but that’s duncan for you. he’ll also unintentionally give her looks with complete admiration. he’ll also only listen to courtney, well and dj but it’s dj of course who wouldn’t? courtney shows her love towards duncan when she’s shit faced drunk, she’ll cling on to him and kiss him over and over again, she’ll also tell him she loves him every 5 minutes. but if he brings it up the next day she’ll tell him he’s delusional. when she’s not under the influence of alcohol, you won’t get much affection from her, she holds her love for him in her heart and hides it away for nobody to see. she’ll mostly just try new things and loosen up because he said so, she trusts and respects him deep down but she’ll never tell him that. he’s the only person who can calm her down, except bridgette and dj. sorry for the essay, it’s always something with me and duncney.

gidgette:

i don’t even need to say anything because how DON’T they show their affection.

heathsey:

heather is NOT an affectionate person. even duncan is more affectionate than her. heather will show her love to lindsay by giving her expensive designer gifts. when lindsay jumps in joy and kisses her she’ll roll her eyes, huff, and say it’s whatever, that’s the nicest she’ll get. lindsays the only one heather tolerates, sometimes in private she’ll even laugh at lindsays stupid jokes. she’ll also compliment her but she’ll say “ugh don’t flatter yourself everybody knows your pretty” lindsay shows her love by following heather around like a lost puppy and clinging to her like a limpet. heather calls her annoying and pathetic but she lovessss it. mean girls need love too!! lindsay will also randomly yell out words of affection literally whenever, she’s not ashamed. her brain isn’t big enough for that… but we love her!

trentney:

trent shows his love by writing songs and playing them for courtney. he’ll also give her pep talks and hype her up a lot. trent will show his affection anywhere and in front of anyone, courtney is actually a big fan of pda, it shows that he’s not ashamed to be with her, so she blushes like a fool when he shows his love in public. unlike duncan, trent isn’t afraid to show his affection so courtney feels more comfortable with showing her love. her love language with trent is physical affection. she’ll sit on his lap and kiss him, cuddle up to him every night, and kisses him all around his face.

aleheather:

we all know alejandros got a mouth on him. he’ll show affection verbally, in spanglish. he’ll also always find a way to be touching heather. heather will show her love by spending time with him. i mean a lottttt of time. we all know that heather is not a people’s person, so spending quality time with him almost every day is a very affectionate thing for a girl like her. we saw how aleheather was in all stars so heather definitely is very sweet to alejandro and alejandro only. she is veryyyyyy clingy in private. unlike with lindsay, heather is all over alejandro. mostly because they’re like almost the same person.

gwourtney:

yasssss my bisexual babies!!! okay so gwen and courtney are both different kinds of gay if you know what i mean. courtneys more clingy and affectionate and gwens more mature and protective. i think gwen is more masculine and courtney is more feminine. i feel that gwen is not a fan of being touched, but when it comes to courtney she loves it. it took some time for courtney to peels gwens layers. but eventually they got very close. after a little while gwen went from hating being touched to clingy af. gwen shows her love by teaching courtney art and holding her hand, putting her arm around courtney, kissing her and playing with her hair until she falls asleep. i hc courtney to be old school christian, but i also hc courtney to not be close with her family, mainly because she doesn’t want to. her family is a bunch of rich assholes, which we love seeing people of color being rich and successful! but also her family doesn’t care about her well being, only her success. so she moves out the second she turns 18. when she comes out her family completely wants nothing to do with her. it takes her a little while to be comfortable telling people she’s with gwen and even more time to show affection in public. but once she’s comfortable she’s clingy af, as well as gwen which is why they’re so good together!!! i got completey off track with how they show they’re love and just made a whole fucking essay so if you read this i hope you have a great weekend 🫡

[nebulanightsky]

I personally adore Swadmare, I think theyre so silly and have such an interesting dynamic. I'm so sorry people have been super weird and making you feel bad about shipping them, because of a proposed moral dilemma.

They are magical skeletons? They aren't even blood related? They both have no memory of their previous lives pre-corruption? Like, really, you can interpret the ship however you want.

...It's not weird if you don't make it weird, honestly.

I'm sorry if that's overstepping, but goodness I saw that post from June and I hate to see people literally killing your fun. :c

Hello, It's nice to hear that someone understands where I'm going through. Honestly, people have their own different perspectives of what they see of this ship, and what they see is a Dream + Nightmare ship = as a bad thing, even in different versions. For me? I never actually see Swadmare as a 'sibling troupe' in the first place, because I know the little details of these characters that mostly people forgot that the real Nightmare is already gone, that thing is just mindless Corruption who pretends to be him, and same goes to Swapdream Dream.

I honestly wanted to try and explain this to some of my mutuals on Facebook, but when I saw there were people attacked another poor random dude who just happens to ship Frisk with Sans on FB, they even explained it very well in their own au that this Frisk is an adult, and still got attacked by many because of what others say "nobody cares about your own headcanons, people will always see Frisk as a child." I kinda agree with that, BUT THATS NOT THE POINT. 😭

After I witnessed that fiasco, imagine that would have been me, trying to explain my own perspective of Swadmare. Will people care about the details? I don't think so, people will always see this ship as an in€est, and I get it okay.

But the amount of hate I get in the past, truly makes me feel 10x bad about myself for shipping something so problematic, even I never consider them as sibling related in the first place.

Nobody is forcing you to like it, heck, I'll never force anyone to ship something that they might feel uncomfortable, and I don't want that.

I like to tend to keep things to myself, unless there are people who are interested.

I still like shipping Corrupted x Swad, but just not mentioning it much, I'm afraid there will always be someone who just randomly just jumped behind my back and started attacking me. However, it will be hard for me to keep up.

Thank you for your kind words and your concerns about this little issue I got, necropathys. Have a nice day/night.

Gosh darn this awfully long..