#one time i called my coworker king without thinking about it

[awkwardtickleetoo]

The happiness it gave me to be called king is so??? /pos

Also djxjkxjdjd hhh thank you…

lmao you're so welcome!! I stole king from wilbur like a year and a half ago when he got into the habit so now everyone I know has to deal with me calling them king

[unhingedgirlythings]

FUCK IT

SUMMERY : Reader gets her date interrupted when Hotch calls up asking for her to get to the BAU. Reader rushes over still dressed up and a certain dr can’t keep her eyes off her teehee.

Tags:fem reader , a huge amount of awkwardness, reader is over her love life

A/N: I WANTED AWKWARD SPENCER REID, bare with me tho cuz I haven’t written a fanfic since I was 13 and it was horrible so please be kind and let me know your thoughts :))) enjoyyy.

——————///—————///--——————///——————

You were used to your phone ringing at the WORST possible times, I mean with your job that was something you just had to prepare yourself for. Serial killers don’t take a break just so you can have a girls night out or take a nice relaxing bath after a long day. Although never in your life did you imagine the wave of relief that would wash over you as the all too familiar ringtone blared from your phone. Normally you would groan and feel your body grow more exhausted whilst hesitantly picking up the phone, but not tonight. Nope. Fortunately for hotch, you couldn’t have answered the phone faster. “what’s up” low and behold hotch was on the other end requesting your presence ASAP!

You tried to hide your glee as you glanced over at the douche-ist blind date that the great quote on quote “matchmaker” of the century Garcia, had raved on about the week before. To be fair the date didn’t start off bad, it was actually the most decent one you’ve had yet. Honestly you were ready to finally praise Penelope for actually finding you a decent man to take your mind off the unrequited school girl crush that you had on a certain “kid” genius. somehow you escaped the dude who clearly was stuck in some frat boy mindset, well not without some snarky comment made towards you which you shut down a little harsher then needed but seriously you couldn’t hold back anymore, you had no idea what possessed Penelope into thinking you would EVER consider going home with the king of fucking douchebags (most likely the biceps and tight clothing that the man sported). Nevertheless here you were speeding down the freeway, thinking way too hard about your love life completely blanking and forgetting to drop by your apartment to quickly change into something more work appropriate.

Before you knew it you’ve parked your car, walking into the cold air. A shiver runs down your body and the shock hits you when you realize. Here you are in a little skimpy black dress that clings to your curves in “just the right way” according to Penelope before shoving you out into your car heading to that horrible excuse of a date, “ahh shit. Fucken seriously! Of course this is just my luck … I mean at least I look good” groaning and mumbling to yourself, you make your way into the building. You knew Hotch would be understanding, I mean you never know when you’re gonna be called in and it sounded urgent so yeah, sometimes you and your coworkers walk in with inappropriate work wear. You will never forget the time he called everyone in at god knows what time, Spencer had walked into the room with his pjs sporting a fluffy dress robe, you seriously thought someone was going to have to perform cpr on you that night.

Walking into the building in heels was definitely a pain in your ass, but you managed as you pushed the briefing room door open. A low wolf whistle from Derek Morgan was the last thing you needed right now “damn sweetheart, who knew you could clean up so nicely“ As you make your way into the room, you playfully roll your eyes at him.“haha very funny” you cringed as everyone’s attention was now drawn to you. while taking a seat next to JJ, wishing to be wearing literally anything else “Sorry Hotch, i came straight from..” you hesitate for a second, glancing around before continuing “A date, but this sounded important so I didn’t have time to change”The stoned faced man simply nods at you “It’s fine. You're here, right now we have a lot to cover” He starts debriefing the team, leaving no detail out of the case, no matter how brutal, you tried your hardest to give him your unwavering attention, but you could feel someone’s eyes on you. And out of the corner of your eye see him. Spencer.

His stare was hot and intense, and fuck was it making you become a flustered mess. You glanced at him from your peripheral trying your best to be subtle about it, it was getting harder and harder to focus on Hotch and the case, not Reid. But when his puppy dog eyes drifted up, down and all over your body, your body involuntarily reacted, slightly squirming in your seat. Before you could stop yourself, your eyes turn and lock onto his gorgeous brown ones, a smirk graces your lips as he finally notices your eyes now on him. Looking like a kid being caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he turns pink from the embarrassment and shame of being caught, and god did that make your head spin. Now it was his turn to awkwardly squirm in his seat while staring at Hotch with all his attention. You giggle under your breath at his fumbling awkwardness. Before you know it everyone around you starts to pack up their things and stand up, leaving you confused. Of course you spent the whole debriefing paying so little attention to the case and more on Spencer.

Sighing, you pull the hem of your dress down as you stand trying to save yourself from even more embarrassment. “soooo how did it go? Was he as yummy as you’d hoped?” Garcia wraps her arms around yours as you try not to stumble down the stairs towards your desk “you, my love are officially banned from meddling in my love life” you could already hear the trail of complaints bouncing around in her head as you plopped down onto your desk chair, reaching for the new case folder hoping to catch yourself up before take off in the morning “aww come on I for sure thought you’d be jumping his bones, all those rippling muscles, who In Their right mind could resist” the thought of the man you had seen a few hours prior put a foul taste in your mouth, causing your face to scrunch up in disgust “he was a complete dick, he legit referred to himself as an “alpha male” AN ALPHA ,Only thing I wanted to jump , was off a building at that point” a defeated look from her was all the conformation you needed, no longer were you going on blind dates, and your love life was back to being non existent and sad “sorry Pen I tried, I really really tried, you just have horrific taste in men like my god do we need to get you some help. These guys are basically human garbage” whilst looking up your eyes naturally drift and settle on Spencers desk frowning as you watch him, his heads buried in the case file whilst obsessively jotting down notes like some multitasking god, your heart couldn’t help but pine after his more, the looks you shared moments before didn’t help your case either. Resting your chin in the palm of your hand, you drag your eyes away trying to spare yourself from going into one of your Spencer Reid spirals. You look up at Penelope already disliking the pitiful look she was giving you “are you sure your ready to give up?, I mean I know this cute guy who would be super into you, he's just your type “the new voice startled you, turning in your seat you’re met with Emily smirking down at you whilst leaning against your desk inserting herself into the conversation with JJ beside her “wow ok fun, are we all just gonna just dive head first into my personal life?, don’t we have a case to work on?” trying to deter the subject of the conversation off of you was a bust, as the women you call friends gleam down at you with a shared look “yeah no this is too entertaining to sit out on.” you couldn’t believe you were having this conversation right now, letting out a groan you leaned back in your chair covering your face in hopes of hiding the redness in your cheeks “sweetheart, what you need is a good ol one night stand, get a certain pretty boy out of your system” if you weren’t already melting into a puddle of embarrassment, you definitely were now “Morgan shut up please for the love of everything holy”

you could only pray Spencer wasn’t paying attention to the little group that was forming at your desk, maybe he was being good and reading the case file like the rest of them should be doing but of course luck wasn’t in your favor tonight “what are we talking about?” Before you could shut the whole conversation down Morgan happily answered Spencer “oh, we were just discussing Y/L/N’s love life. I think she needs a good root, what do you think?” that stupid smirk Morgan was happily wearing was enough to make your blood boil, now you truly wished to disappear “ok ok that’s enough” you shoot up from your seat avoiding any eye contact with Spencer not wanting to see his reaction to your humiliating red face “conversation over, my love life is going back to being non existent, thank you for your concern but it’s over, officially dead so no more talking about it.” you snatch the file off your desk ready to get the hell out of whatever situation you found yourself in “i'm going home to at least get some sleep before we leave tomorrow or I’ll be a zombie all day” with that you hastily made your way out of the building and into the cool night air once again.

wrapping your arms around yourself in hopes to provide some warmth, you slowly make your way to the car park. Before you could make it to your car you could hear foot steps getting closer and closer until they were right behind you, stopping along with yours once you had reached front of your car. Quickly spinning around you slam them onto the car's hood, arm in your hand, face down and pinned.

“Ow ow ow ow Ow!” Shit. It was Spencer. The man you’ve been daydreaming about and here you were pinning him to the hood of your car. “oh shit sorry, my god, don’t walk up on me like that holy shit Spence you scared me” you pull away off him whilst letting go of his arm and backing away a little. Spencer lets out a hiss of pain as he pushes himself off the hood, rubbing his arm to try and relieve the pain “sorry I was just trying to make sure you got to your car safely. It’s late a-and” he looks at your dress whilst clearing his throat looking away awkwardly “are you ok? you seemed upset in there” he looks back at you whilst giving you a smile that made you wanna pass away on the spot “yeah I’m ok, just having your dating life put on full blast in front of the team like that can be a tad embarrassing” silence was the only response you were met with, you glance up at Spencer trying to think of something, anything to say in this moment “you look really nice by the way, it’s unfortunate your date turned out that way.” His eyes meet yours, your breath gets caught in your throat as heat creeps up your neck to your face “t-thanks” tugging on the hem of your dress you smile sheepishly “not the most comfortable outfit, honestly wish Pen let me wear my sweater but you know”

“Penelope” you both say, you giggle as Spencer chuckles. “Oh by the way, I thought you may want these, may help a little tomorrow” he hands you the notes he took from the briefing, Your fingertips brush against his, the feeling of warmth from his hands sends a shiver down your spine. “Thanks Spence. I appreciate it” you stand there longer than needed before you start to turn away from him. “You know, that even though there aren't any hard statistics, it’s roughly estimated that every 1 in 3 or 4 blind dates actually end up as a success” he rambles on, looking back at him you try to pay attention but you can’t stop your eyes from sifting down towards his lips “so there is a chance” his voice fades away as his words become background noise and your thoughts become louder and louder, all you could think about was him, the feeling of wanting only grew stronger with each passing minute. It didn’t help that his lips were tempting you, calling you in. you couldn’t hold yourself back much longer, will power growing weaker and weaker “fuck it” your body moves before commen sense had its time to put a stop to whatever ridiculous thoughts you had muster up, suddenly your lips press onto his without thinking it through. It was short and one sided yet sweet, the faint taste of coffee and sugar overwhelmed your senses

The sudden realization hits you hard as you push yourself off Reid, the feelings of regret and fear settles itself in your stomach making you feel sick “Sorry I wasn’t thinking, shit sorry, forget that happened ok” you back away keeping your eyes glued to the ground in fear that you’ll look up and only see rejection written on his face. What in the hell possessed you to do that?, why the fuck did you do that, the only reason you kept your feelings shoved down was to protect your friendship with Spencer, nothing meant more to you then the bond you both shared and now you’ve ruined it and for what? A stupid kiss? “wait, uh No no it was just unexpected I didn’t hate it actually quite the opposite” your head snaps back up at a red faced flustered Spencer Reid “don't apologize“ his warm hands warp around your cold ones as he steps closer to you once again “did you um maybe want to try that again? Only if you want to though I don’t want you to regret anything” you giggle as he starts to nervously stumble over his words, this time more confident in your actions your lips find his for the second time tonight.

The taste of coffee meets your lips again as your body relaxes into the kiss, which is very reciprocated this time. The warmth radiating from Spencer chases the cold night air away. As your bodies shuffle closer together. you both hesitantly pull away from each, you wanted to stay here in this moment for as long as possible but of course your bed was calling your name along with the early flight departure. “I should go” you really didn’t want to “I know“ his hands stayed on your waist for a moment before slipping away “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow” the sweet look on his face drove you crazy, the urge to say fuck it and stay with him for the remainder of the night was overpowered by the sleepless night before, you settle for placing a goodnight kiss on his cheek instead “night Spence” winking you open your car door and make your way in, you turn the car on and roll the window down to call out to him as he backs away with a smug smirk on his face “sweet dreams pretty boy” with that you drive away replaying the events of tonight in your mind, god you couldn’t wait to get the case over with so you could finally have a date that wasn’t going to end in ruins, especially with the man you’ve been crushing on since your first day, yeah no you weren’t going to get any sleep tonight now.

[cookiescribble]

First Day

A/N: this has been in my head for a long time because I have random trivial star trek knowledge and whenever they show spencer talking about star trek in the show i go all heart eyes so I wrote a little blurb 🫶🏻 also I had fem!reader in mind when I wrote this but I realized I didn’t actually make any references to gender so 🤷🏻 - mod angel 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Summary: Spencer bonds with his new coworker over Star Trek. 

~~~

It was my first day at the BAU, and I was a little… intimidated being here. I had been mostly keeping my head down and staying quiet, since social interaction wasn’t something I was great at. I was okay just watching the others interact with each other for now. 

“Hey, kid,” Derek called out, beckoning Spencer. “I need your help with the crossword.”

Spencer walked over to Derek’s desk, which was next to mine. “What’s up?” he asked. 

Derek pointed to the newspaper with his pencil. “7 across: James _ Kirk (Star Trek). 8 letters.”

Tiberius, I thought instinctively. I considered saying it out loud, but he hadn’t asked me, so I decided to stay quiet. 

“Tiberius,” Spencer said, almost as fast as I had thought it. 

I smiled to myself. I was always the only one who knew about geeky stuff. Until now, I guess. 

Derek finished filling in the crossword. “Thanks. I knew it was always James T. Kirk, but I didn’t know what it stood for.”

Without thinking, I spoke up. “Actually, in the third episode of The Original Series, someone who’s fighting Kirk prepares a gravestone for him and it says James H. Kirk.”

Everyone turned to look at me, staring at me with open mouths. I blushed. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. But now I felt uncomfortable sitting in this silence. 

I cleared my throat. “Um. So. Yeah. It wasn’t always James T. Kirk, as you said. They didn’t mention his full initials until-“

“Episode 13: The Conscience of the King.” Spencer cut me off, his eyes lighting up like he had been dying to talk about this. He walked over to my desk and leaned on the front of it. “The first time they mention it is when Spock is checking his background and speaks it into the computer.”

I nodded, smiling. “Yeah, and they don’t mention the name Tiberius until the 6th movie, The Undiscovered Country.”

“Oh my god, there are two of them,” I heard Emily say. 

Either Spencer didn’t hear her or he was purposefully ignoring her. “Actually…” he started, sitting on my desk. He was bouncing a little. “The first time the name Tiberius is mention is in The Animated Series episode BEM.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that.” I admitted. “I’ve never actually seen The Animated Series. Actually, I’ve only ever seen part of The Original Series…”

That only made him sit up straighter. “Do you want to watch it? I have every episode on DVD. I’d be happy to show it to you sometime.”

I smiled. “Yeah, I’d like that. I’ve always wanted to finish watching it, and watch the other shows too. If you don’t mind me imposing…”

He shook his head. “I don’t mind at all. Not a lot of people I know are interested in Star Trek, so I’m happy to show it to you if you’re interested. You can come by my apartment sometime and we can watch it.”

I nodded. “That sounds great. I appreciate it.”

I heard people whispering in the distance. 

“Did he just-“

“Shh, don’t say anything, you’ll jinx it. I think this is the first time in history that this has ever worked.”

“And probably the last time it will ever work. This is definitely a unique circumstance.”

I blushed a little as I heard everyone talking about us, but I continued chatting comfortably with Spencer for a while before everyone was interrupted by the news that we had a case. But I was really relieved that, despite feeling so overwhelmed about starting this job, I had been able to make a friend on my first day.

[nburkhardt]

Every Time You Shine, I’ll Shine For You.

Soooo this was originally going to be full one shot, but I’ve decided since it’s been sitting in my drafts for months, that I’m just going to post it as either an unfinished piece for now. I might try to come up with a second half but for now enjoy this soulmate au ✨

Having a soulmark wasn’t necessary for Steve. Sure, seeing the word- the nickname his soulmate will eventually call him is nice. But it’s not needed, not in his eyes at least.

At the age of five years old, everyone in the world gets a nickname on their wrist. It’s fate telling you your perfect match, that the other half of your soul is out there for you. It’s the ultimate fairytale growing up, that it burns when you hear the nickname said by your soulmate and there’s an instant spark, instant connection. It’s the bedtime story, the ultimate love story and something to wish for.

It’s a wish everyone wants but Steve Harrington.

He has a very good reason to not like the idea of having a “perfect match” out there for you. While he heard the stories and sees the potential in it, he grew up watching his parents be in love without being actual soulmates. Hears stories of their love and ideas of finding love on your own, deciding to show the world that they don’t need fate’s help.

It’s beautiful and he wants that. Wants to make his own story, find his own match. There’s no need for fate to help him.

On his fifth birthday, he watched ‘Dingus’ appear on his wrist, it made him pout while his parents laughed and kiss his head, told him not to worry. That he doesn’t have to be with whoever fate picked for him and joked about only being five.

It eases his five year old mind.

His parents aren’t surprised to watch him grow up to be a true romantic, isn’t surprised to see his love in everything and how having a soul mark doesn’t stop him from having crushes or falling in love.

Life goes on but after some failed relationships and the disaster of a relationship with Nancy; seeing the nickname give him some hope that somewhere out there, there is someone for him. Someone who fate decided is his match, which growing up he hated it.

At eighteen, he really thought he’d already be with the person he’d love forever (and who would love him). But instead of that, he’s single and not at all close to figuring out why fate’s pick for him would call him “dingus” of all things. To top it all of he’s stuck working at the new Scoops Ahoy until he hears back from the colleges he applied too.

The uniform is lame, it’s in the middle of the brand new mall and it’s leaning towards being too cold in the shop and he doesn’t even know his coworker yet, hopefully they’re not expecting him to be some big shot like he was in high school.

Those days are long gone, he’d rather be his lame and hopeless romantic self instead of the asshole keg king he was.

His first week of working is spent being laughed at by ex-teammates, being ignored by his only coworker and failing to get at least a date with someone. It’s not his longest week, but it’s real close.

After a total of three weeks of getting ignored and laughed at by people he flirts with, his coworker, Robin decides enough is enough and- “maybe with this you’ll try harder”

Glancing behind him, she’s standing there with the whiteboard from the back but instead of the random doodles she drew, it looks like a score board with You Rule/You Suck on it.

There’s already three tally marks under ‘You Suck’ and he can’t figure out if it makes him want to laugh or cry, maybe both.

Definitely both.

“At least I’m trying here, you could find your soulmate with flirting!”

Robin rolls her eyes and hangs the board up behind her, “I’d rather suck on a lemon than flirt with guys”

It surprises him for all of three seconds before he rolls his eyes, whatever, he thinks. If she wants to miss the opportunity to find a soulmate, so be it. He’ll continue trying to find love, he doesn’t need whoever fate picked.

The board is definitely mocking him, he thinks several days later. Currently there’s five tally marks under ‘You Suck’ and a big fat nothing under ‘You Rule’. Robin thinks it’s the funniest thing on the planet.

He doesn’t find it funny, he finds it embarrassing and stupid, actually. Really embarrassing, especially when she brings it out when another girl their age walks in. It’s like she’s doing it on purpose.

Which is confusing, she told him explicitly that she does not like him and will only ever tolerate him. So, her practically chasing people away doesn’t make sense.

Her loud crackle of a laugh starts as his head nearly hits the counter, “That’s another one for the you suck column! Zero for the you rule, popeye!”

Standing up he turns around with a glare, “yeah I can read!”

“You sure about that one, Dingus?”

His wrist burns and he can’t stop his eyes from going wide. There’s no way, absolutely no way. This is a fluke, she must have seen his mark one day. That’s why his soulmate mate, fate’s pick, is his co-worker.

His disbelief and discomfort most show on his face because Robin shifts on her feet, “I’m uh, sorry. If I took that too far, really-uh I don’t think that way about you and, and- this is was” she looks uncomfortable now, tripping over her words.

Opening his mouth to calm her down, he find that his words are gone. The disbelief stopping him. He quickly shuts it and looks away from her. The shop is completely empty. When did that happen?

“Steve- I really didn’t mean to be well, mean.”

All he can do is nod back, “no, uh, I get it. Really- uh. It’s fine.”

How exactly is he supposed to do this? He’s never once called her a nickname! Unless she was his but he isn’t hers? He doesn’t know. Either way he’s still a little disappointed.

“You sure? Because uh, you’re looking a little pale there”

A laugh bubbles up and before he realizes it he’s on the ground with his back against the counter and tears on his face, “ye-yeah. Sorry.”

He hears her move around and then there’s a foot bumping his, he moves his head to look at her.

“We’re currently low on everything, did you know that? It’s unbelievable, just wiped clean.” Robin explains with amusement dancing on her face, “Scoops Ahoy is officially closed for the day”

That surprises a laugh out of him as tries to loosen the tension that built up, moving his arms he puts his chin on his knee, Robin copies him. They’re just looking at each other, comfortable in this silence.

“Sooo”

“Look-”

Their eyes meet and both burst out laughing. This feels different, at least for Steve. There’s something soothing coursing through him now, he never felt on edge with Robin but he wasn’t always this comfortable either. A smile spreading on his face, he didn’t know about this feeling when you meet your soulmate.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

He snorts, “they might be worth more, Birdie”

Robin gasps and he looks at her, but her eyes are wide and locked on her wrist. He follows her look and he can’t exactly see what she’s looking at but he knows it’s her soul mark.

They really are soulmates.

This is where I’d put the continuation… if I had the idea for it! (Said in that fairlyodd parents meme)

Anyway! If this brought you some inspiration, you can totally take whatever piece you want and write something! But please know I had this ending up as Steddie with side of Rockie (Vickie&Robin)

Permanent taglist: @spectrum-spectre @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz @estrellami-1 @cartercaptainofthemoon @bookworm0690 @strangersteddierthings

[videovamptramp]

the jealous game

// prompt idea for g!p wanda: you end your relationship with wanda because she’s always flirting with other girls to make you jealous. unbeknownst to you, wanda’s about to feel just as jealous as you when thor and bruce bring their new friend valkyrie to one of tony’s parties. the king suddenly takes a massive interest in you, making wanda immensely jealous. //

warnings: breakups, flirting with other girls while in a relationship, jealousy, sexual themes i guess (kind of??), fluffy ending, i’m a slut for wanda maximoff 🥺

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

“i can’t do this anymore, wanda!” you raise your voice as she drags you into the hall. you were forced to sit at a dinner party with a few agents, and watch wanda flirt with sharon carter all night. you stressed more and more during every function and event, because the redheads flirting was never ending. no matter how many times you told her to stop— how much it hurts you— she never listens. “you’re making a big deal over nothing, y/n.” she rolls her eyes, and you clench your fists, angry tears welling up in your eyes. “nothing?! wanda, you’ve been flirting with sharon in front of me all night!” you exclaim, and she scoffs.

“flirting doesn’t mean anything.” she mutters and you stare at her as if she’s crazy. “it means something to me, and it probably means something to her and all the other women you consistently flirt with.” you mutter, and she opens her mouth to say something, but you beat her to it. “you know, you used to be my best friend. after my best friend passed away, i never thought i could develop a bond and connection like i did with you. then i fell in love with you, and i realized you aren’t who i thought you were.” your voice cracks a bit and wanda’s smug demeanor falls immediately at the vulnerable words. “y/n—”

“have fun at your dinner party. i’ll be by your room next week to pick up my things.” you don’t even let her speak. you don’t want to hear what she has to say. you walk away from her, and you leave her standing in the hallway watching you leave. the memory now engraved into her mind. the night you got tired of her trying to rile you up, and keep the relationship ‘alive’. she didn’t think it was affecting you this badly. she never meant any of the things she said to other women in your presence, she was only trying to make you jealous. maybe have wild sex afterwards like you guys always do.

though she succeeded at making you jealous, she didn’t get the outcome she desired. no, instead wanda lost her bestest friend all because she went and decided to flirt with sharon carter. but it wasn’t just sharon, it was also the waitress at the restaurant last week, and the nurse who was doing an ultrasound on you for a cyst. she cringes as she remembers how you asked her to wait outside. she was starting to realize how much of a shit girlfriend she’s been to you. “hey wands, where did y/n go?” yelena asks on her way back from the bathroom. “she left…”

wanda spends the next few weeks waiting for you to come back. she foolishly tells herself you’ll miss her enough to return. yet, it becomes abundantly clear that that’s not the case. you end up avoiding her, and whenever wanda accidentally sees you around the compound you’re laughing at something one of your coworkers is saying, or hanging out with the members of your team. you look okay and maybe that’s what sets wanda off most of all; you’re okay without her while she’s miserable without you. she lays awake at night tossing and turning, when she’s half asleep she reaches for you but you aren’t there. she can’t get that look on your face out of her head. the look of pure betrayal and hurt.

wanda tries calling, but you don’t answer. when she visits your room at night FRIDAY doesn’t allow her access. you’ve complete shut her out, and it’s all her fault. wanda thinks about three years ago when you first arrived at the compound. you had apparently been training for shield since you got out of high school. as soon as you met wanda she immediately took a liking to you. you were genuinely kind to her, and no matter how out of control her powers were, you weren’t afraid of her. you listened as she opened up to you about the death of her twin brother and her parents. you never once judged her when she told you about the things hydra and ultron made her do.

wanda’s nightmares return shortly after your breakup. turns out having you around was more help to her than she realized. or maybe she did realize it and she took it for granted. she doesn’t know how long she can continue this way without you; barely sleeping, barely eating. she can’t even seem to focus on missions and steve has given her three warnings in the last month to get it together before she’s on temporary desk duty. maybe that’s how she ended up at tony’s halloween party; drinking the night away to forget you.

when she sees you she nearly drops the drink in her hands. you’re not even dressed up; just a simple black cropped top that fits you perfectly, dark denim blue jeans that are so tight wanda can see every curve. the outfit is matched with your favorite converse, and your hair is in loose unruly curls. wanda wants to talk to you so badly, but she doesn’t have the courage to. your eyes migrate around the room, and end up on her. you offer her a sad smile and she doesn’t react. you notice the bags under her eyes that the makeup isn’t doing a good job at hiding. she doesn’t look at all like herself. you’re about to walk over to your ex girlfriend when a voice stops you.

“y/n!” thor bellows as he makes his way over to you with a woman beside him. she’s not as tall as wanda but she’s taller than you. her eyes seem to light up as soon as she sees you, “this is my dear friend y/n! y/n, this is king valkyrie.” he introduces you both and you smile shyly as you put your hand out for her to shake. the king takes your right hand and kisses your knuckles gently. you blush profusely at the action, “king valkyrie has assisted me on many missions and frequently, as you mortals say, saved my behind.” thor continues to stroke his friends ego and she rolls her eyes modestly. “please. a literal god is trying to talk me up right now, can you get this guy out of here?” valkyrie asks you jokingly, making you giggle. the mere sound makes her stare at you in awe for a second.

“it’s truly a pleasure to meet you, y/n. i’ve heard so much about you and your amazing pancakes from thor and bruce.” she admits and you blush sheepishly, your face feeling hot. “it’s a pleasure to meet you as well, it’s great to finally put a face to the name.” you tell her, having only heard about her a few times through thor and bruce, you were surprised at how charming she actually was. you don’t normally receive any attention like this from any of the superheroes, sure a few agents have asked you out in hopes of a hookup or two, but none of the heroes that were as important as this have. well, except for wanda, but you were almost positive wanda never wanted a real relationship with you to begin with.

the disheartening thought is enough to get you to put on a fake smile, and offer to get valkyrie and thor drinks. thor politely admits he has to find jane, but he ends up leaving you and the king alone. “so, thor tells me you’ve been an agent for shield for four years?” valkyrie asks and you chuckle, “yeah, i started training right out of high school… i really didn’t know know what else to do with my life.” you confess sheepishly, “but my life is boring. i want to hear all about your life. you’re a king, you must never be bored or lonely!” you exclaim and her smile falters a bit. “well, i certainly have the means and privilege of never being bored but not even money can cure loneliness.” she admits and you frown.

“do you get lonely king valkyrie?” you ask softly, your hand coming up to her bicep and your mere touch warms her in a way she hasn’t felt in so long. “yes. but it’s a small price to pay for ruling a kingdom.” she responds, and your eyes meet her chocolate brown ones. “and your queen?” you ask in a way that causes her to smirk, “no queen, just me i’m afraid.” she answers honestly, and you raise your eyebrows. “i guess that means i’m allowed to buy you a drink without worrying about your wife challenging me to a death match?” you half joke, and she laughs. “there’s no wife you have to worry about. but i’d love a drink.” she says lightly as you grab her hand and lead her through the crowded room. you don’t notice the piercing green eyes staring at you both the entire time.

as the night goes on you get to know valkyrie and you can’t find a single thing wrong with her. she’s charming, sweet, kind, humble, and even easy on the eyes… yet you can’t shake that guilty feeling you feel. you don’t want to be here with anyone other than wanda. yet, you’re sure she’s probably flirting with some other pretty girl around here. she’s probably forgotten all about you. you force yourself to laugh at a joke valkyrie says that you shamefully weren’t paying attention to. what you don’t notice is the emerald green eyes shooting daggers at the woman you’re standing in front of. wanda’s been watching you two since thor introduced the both of you. she hates the way her stomach burns and her fists clenches around her glass so tightly she surprised it doesn’t break.

her jaw is tense as valkyrie moves a strand of loose hair behind your ear. the way you blush makes her heart crumble into a million little pieces, and she recalls the way you used to blush at all of the things she said. the way the blood used to rise to your cheeks and coat your little nose. she hates this feeling and she wonders if this is how you felt all those times when she flirted so blatantly in front of you. she mentally curses herself for making you feel this way on so many occasions. the jealousy she feels is nothing compared to the guilt. she downs the rest of her whiskey and leaves the glass of ice on the bar counter. she can’t stand to watch this anymore, she doesn’t think the remains of her heart can take it.

you notice the way the redhead leaves quickly, moving past a hoard of people. you frown; wanda never leaves these things early. there’s nothing she loves more than a party. though, you remember how down she looked earlier. as much as you want to wield yourself not to care, you can’t help it. you love her and you care about her so much. “um, excuse me valkyrie i have to make sure my friend is okay. she looked sad earlier and she just left.” you lie through your teeth and valkyrie flashes you an understanding smile. “of course. i know all about your history with wanda maximoff, i understand how you feel.” she says and you feel a guilty feeling wash over you.

“i’m sorry.” you apologize honestly, and she reaches for your hand giving it an assuring squeeze. “don’t be sorry. go to her. i understand.” she tells you softly. you smile at her gratefully, “thank you. it really was lovely meeting you, i hope to see you again some time.” you tell her sincerely causing her to nod in agreement. “likewise. i’ll be looking for you the next time i’m on earth.” she promises and you blush softly before leaving. you go in the direction wanda left in, and you push through the large amount of people. you finally see her on the balcony facing away from the party.

“you left a little early don’t you think?” you ask, and she quickly wipes away a few falling tears before holding onto the ledge of the balcony tightly. “why do you care? you’ve made it perfectly clear over the last few weeks that nothing i do matters to you.” she retorts, there’s a bit of bite to her tone but there’s a whole lot of hurt laced through it as well. “nothing you do matters? i think you don’t understand how much the things you do matter to me.” you reply, as you reach into the pocket of your coat, pulling out a pack of menthols. “doesn’t seem that way. you’ve been avoiding me like the plague and now you’re all over king valkyrie not even a few weeks after our breakup?” she questions, and you can hear the undeniable betrayal laced through her tone.

“at least i waited till after our breakup.” you mutter under your breath, and she turns to face you. a trickle of silence passes, until she lets out a chuckle. “yeah, i deserved that.” she responds, and you flash her half a smile. she loves your smile. how she’s missed it. you take in the black velour suit she’s wearing. the white collared shirt pristine and nicely buttoned; not a wrinkle in sight. she looks amazing and you try your hardest not to let her know you’re staring at how beautiful she looks. “you look perfect. i see why valkyrie was all over you.” she admits and you laugh. “she was being nice.” you try to defend yourself and wanda flashes you a look. “oh please, she kissed your hand and was by your side all night.” she points out, and you raise a brow.

“you mean the way you should’ve been?“ you ask her, and this causes her to go silent. “y/n… i’m so sorry. i was a terrible girlfriend, and i… i took you for granted. i know some of the things i did are unforgivable, and when i saw you with valkyrie tonight, i realized how badly i hurt you all those times. i’m sorry.” wanda actually sounds sincere, and you can see in her eyes she means every word. she then shakes her head, “i don’t expect you to forgive me. if i were you i don’t know if i could… i just needed to apologize. you deserved a sincere apology. you didn’t deserve anything i put you through… i do love you, y/n.” wanda adds and your eyes go wide. “you do?” you ask in complete surprise and she nods vigorously.

“so much. you’re the only person i’ve ever opened up to… you’re my best friend. i really should’ve been a better girlfriend to you.” she admits shamefully, barely being able to meet your eyes with her own. you can see the tears pooling in those emerald green orbs you’re so helplessly in love with. “then why did you flirt with all those women? what you did really hurt me, and i told you it did, and you just kept doing it. you promised me once that you’d never intentionally hurt me… so why did you?” you ask her, and she shuts her eyes for a few seconds. “i thought it would keep you from losing interest in me. i figured if you saw how many people wanted me, you always would.” she chuckles bitterly at her own mindset. “i guess i lost you either way…” she trails off, and you sigh.

“wanda… i could never not want you. trust me, i know first hand how many people want you. you don’t think i see the way everyone looks at you when you walk into a room? but i don’t care about how many people look at you as long as you’re only looking at me…” your voice is insecure and now you can’t seem to keep eye contact as you glance down at your shoes. you toss your forgotten cigarette into the ashtray and she lets a few tears fall. “you’re all i see when i walk into a room.” she admits, “i should’ve made that more clear.” she adds and you flash her a look. “yeah, you should’ve.” you murmur, and she looks down at her shoes.

“is there any way you’d give me another chance? i’d do anything to earn your trust back. anything to make you love me again.” she practically begs you, and you can hear the strain in her voice. “i never stopped loving you, wands. i just… i thought you didn’t love me anymore.” you whisper the last part, and she reaches for your hands, her touch immediately makes your body feel warm despite the cool new york air. “i could never not love you.” she reveals with a trembling voice. you observe her features, searching for any sign of dishonesty; when you find none your eyes soften in that way that makes her heart flutter. “from now on, flirting with someone else is cheating. okay? there’ll be no more chances after this one for that, maximoff.” you warn her, and she nods eagerly. “i promise to only flirt with you until i die!“ she dramatically swears, earning a soft giggle.

god how she missed being the cause of that sound. “that’s a little dramatic.” you say, but before you can say anything else she leans in and kisses you passionately. you melt into the stolen kiss immediately, moaning in surprise and delight as you kiss the redhead back. wanda let’s go of your hands and moves hers to your waist. she pulls you into her, and as soon as your body touches hers, her member begins to wake up. there’s no doubt you don’t feel it hardening against you. “i missed,” kiss, “you,” kiss, “so,” kiss, “much.” wanda says in between kisses, as if she’s in a frenzy. you pull away and she chases your lips with her own as she keeps you held against her. she whines when you don’t let her kiss you again, “looks like you weren’t the only one that missed me.”

your teasing only causes her to get harder, and you smile deviously at the appendage poking you through hers and your clothes. “should we get out of here?” she asks hopefully, and you giggle nodding in agreement. “lead the way, wands.” you unravel yourself from her, as she interlocks her hands with yours and leads you out. she takes you to the nearest exit and your stomach flutters at the thought of making up after a whole month.

//

a/n: should i upload a pt.2 of the smut ?🤫👀

[amhrosina]

Touch Me (Frank Castle x f!Reader)

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAG LIST

A/N: Hi friends! I know I said I wanted to get this out by yesterday, but I ended up at my local(ish?) urgent care yesterday afternoon because ya girl has apparently been walking around with bronchitis for two weeks now. I’m on medicine, and I’ve been resting/editing this all day, but I could not for the life of me get this thing finished yesterday. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! It is literally porn with plot. P.S. - bearded Frank makes me go absolutely FERAL, and the gif I chose for today's fic makes me even MORE FERAL!!!!!!

Request: if requests are open, do you think you could write about Pete/ Frank still works at the construction site and reader is his girlfriend and she visits him for lunch at the construction site and the guys are astonished and you can come up with the rest if you would like.

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: When Frank’s coworkers notice you a little too much after you bring him his forgotten lunch, you want to remind him that he’s the only man for you, but Frank’s a generous lover, and you’re not leaving the truck until he’s made you come at least three times.

(Warnings: oh boy, smut, SMUT, did I mention smut??, porn with plot, v fingering, hand job sort of??, oral (fem receiving), p in v, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampie lol, truck sex, soooo much kissing, protective Frank, you save the horse and ride the cowboy – know what I mean??, Frank talks you through it!!!!!, mentions of oral (male receiving), Frank is a consent king, Frank will be damned if anything bad happens to his baby girl!!!)

Frank eyed the clock, a nervous tick he’d developed over the last three hours as he waited for lunchtime to roll around. On any other day, lunch would’ve come and gone without a second thought from Frank, but not today. In his hurry to get to work this morning, he’d left the lunch you’d generously packed for him the night before. It was your fault, technically, but Frank was a gentleman, and gentlemen weren’t supposed to blame their girlfriends for forgotten lunches, especially when it was the incredible head you were giving him that made him late leaving this morning.

He'd gotten shit for it the minute he stepped on the site, barely getting a chance to pour his coffee before the guys were on his ass about his punch card. Frank brushed it off. It was all in good fun anyways, and he was the boss around here, so it didn’t really matter if he was late once in a blue moon. He didn’t divulge the reason for his tardiness, much more inclined to grunt a “fuck off” towards the guys and start his work for the day.

The nervousness set it when you called and told him you’d bring his lunch to him. The guys knew almost nothing about Frank’s personal life, which is what he preferred. They didn’t know anything about his past, and they certainly didn’t know about you. What he had going on before and after work hours was none of their business, you were none of their business, but that would change any minute.

“You got a hot date or something, man?” Antonio, one of the only guys Frank tolerated, asked as they moved a stack of wooden beams towards what would eventually become a master bedroom.

“What?” Frank lifted his head, narrowing his eyes at Antonio.

“You’ve checked the clock more in the last 25 minutes than I do on Friday afternoons. You expectin’ somethin’?”

Frank let out a nervous chuckle, which did little to subside Antonio’s curiosity. Instead, intense concern crossed Antonio’s face, and Frank sighed, shaking his head. His brain felt like it had been rewired, and he had no idea how to respond to Antonio’s question without causing more questions. He didn’t have a chance to respond, though, because the sound of clicking heels had caused heads to turn faster than Frank knew was possible.

Frank turned, relaxing when he spotted you. You smiled and waved, ignoring the men around you that were clearly enamored by your presence. Frank couldn’t blame them – you were beautiful – but that didn’t keep the bubble of anger from welling up inside his chest. You were his, and if he was going to make one thing clear to them today, it was that.

Frank marched up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your body into his chest. He pressed a sultry kiss to your lips, slipping his tongue in your mouth in his way of saying hello. When you pulled away, you were smiling, and Frank couldn’t think of anything more beautiful than that damned smile of yours.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He grinned, slightly ashamed that he’d let his jealousy get the best of him in front of the guys that worked for him. It was definitely unprofessional to make out with your significant other in the middle of an active construction site while the entirety of your team gawked at your display of affection, right?

“That’s lunch.” He called out, not taking his eyes off yours.

The guys filed out, some with smirks on their faces, others with nothing but food on their minds. Antonio was smiling when he walked past the both of you, wiggling his eyebrows at Frank. Frank rolled his eyes, trying to remind himself why he barely tolerated the kid.

“Speaking of lunch,” you smiled, eyes bright and adoring as you looked at Frank, “Where do you want to eat? I’m not sure I can handle the roof.”

You were all too aware of Frank’s frequent lunch spots. Sitting a the top of buildings that were half constructed, legs hanging over the edge, was Frank’s favorite way to spend lunch, much to your chagrin. You were terrified of heights and refused to even think about how dangerous Frank’s lunch activities were.

“You want to stay?” Frank asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Of course! As long as we’re not eating on the roof.” You pointed upwards for emphasis, shaking your head.

“I guess I could change up my lunch spot for the day.” Frank faked an exasperated sigh. “What about my truck?”

“Sounds good to me, babe.” You smiled, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the front of what would eventually be a nice house in a nice neighborhood outside of Brooklyn. A house that Frank wished he could afford to buy for you. Hell, he’d build you a house if he could afford the land to build it on. You didn’t mind the small apartment you and Frank shared, but Frank couldn’t help the incessant desire to spoil you.

It was a brisk 35 degrees outside, and you bundled into Frank’s side as he opened the passenger side door for you. Frank hustled to the other side of the truck, quickly shutting the door behind him and starting the truck. The heat blasting from the vents was a welcome warmth, and Frank couldn’t shake the tiny sliver of guilt that sliced through him when you began blowing in your hands to warm them up. If he’d just remembered the fucking lunch box, you wouldn’t be sitting in the cold right now.

“Damn, the heat works so well in here.” You observed, holding your hands in the path of the hot air.

“One of the perks of being the boss, I guess.” Frank shrugged. The truck was a necessary purchase, especially once Frank’s work picked up, but you still weren’t used to it. You’d spent so many years taking the subway to get places that having access to a vehicle was a foreign concept to you. “I’m sorry you had to come all the way out here just to bring me lunch.”

“Don’t apologize. I like to see what you’re working on. I wish you’d let me come by more often.”

“You’d be bored. It’s just a bunch of sweaty old guys hammering nails.”

“Sounds like a wet dream to me.” You smirked, clearly joking at Frank’s expense. “I didn’t realize I’d cause such a fuss by showing up.”

Frank shrugged. “If any of them say a single word about you after lunch, I’m gonna break their jaws.”

“Frank, baby, relax.” You ran your hand up his arm. “Even if they do say something, it’s probably just because they had no idea I even existed.”

“I don’t like them knowing about you. You’re mine.”

Frank was aware that what he was saying was insane, but he never cared much about his sanity when it came to protecting the woman he loved. He’d be damned if another person was taken from him, and if that made him crazy, then so be it. Frank Castle would take crazy over mourning any day of the week.

You crept closer to Frank, shifting so that you could lean your elbow against the back of the bench seat.

“Them knowing about me doesn’t change that I’m yours, Frankie.”

Frank grunted, annoyance running through his veins. He knew you were right, but the fact that the guys were probably running their mouths about his relationship with you right now was getting on his nerves. He didn’t want you anywhere near their fucked up thoughts.

“You’re so tense, Frankie.” You mumbled, eyeing the way Frank was clenching and unclenching his fist in an irregular pattern. “Let me help you.”

This got his attention. His head swiveled around, eyebrows raised, as he looked to you for confirmation on what you’d just said. You matched his expression, unwilling to move until he consented to your idea.

“Yeah? You wanna help me?” He asked, already leaning back to make room for you to climb onto his lap.

“You could eat your lunch instead.” You mumbled, “If that’s what you want.”

Frank slowly shook his head, watching the way your throat bobbed when you swallowed.

“No.”

“You’re not hungry?” You asked, inching closer to him.

“Oh, I’m hungry.” Frank conceded, “But I’d rather have you for lunch.”

This omission sent a spark through your body, and you lurched forward, swinging your leg over his hip to straddle him. You looked down at him, enjoying the way his face already seemed more relaxed than moments before. You pressed a soft kiss on the crease of his forehead, the one that always made an appearance when he was stressing about something, and watched as it smoothed itself out.

Frank tilted his chin up, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. His hand snaked up your back, curling his fingers in your hair and gently pulling on it, which elicited the most delicious gasp he’d ever heard slip from between your lips. He decided right then and there that if that sound was the last thing he ever heard, he’d die the happiest death a man could ask for.

He slammed his lips onto yours, unable to constrain himself any longer. His hands found themselves wrapped around your waist, pulling your body flush against his. You grinded yourself against him, moaning against Frank’s lips when you felt how hard he was through his jeans. You couldn’t stop yourself from grinding against him again, letting out a devilish groan when the friction of the movement rubbed against your clit.

“Frank,” you moaned in between kisses, “touch me.”

It wasn’t just a desire to please you; it was a need. Frank was nothing if not generous, and the minute you started begging, he had already unbuttoned and unzipped your jeans, shoving his hand down the front of your pants. Frank let out a loud groan when he realized how entirely soaked through your panties were, clenching the fingers that were fiddling with the waistband of your jeans.

You pushed your hips closer to his hand, dying to feel his fingers. The panting coming from the both of you had fogged up the windows of the truck, obstructing anyone’s view into the truck. The construction site was dead anyways, but at this point, you didn’t think you cared if someone could see in. You wanted Frank so badly that you had lost your ability to care about anything besides Frank’s fingers.

“Want me to touch you, baby?” Frank cooed, “Want me to make your pretty pussy feel good?”

Frank’s breath was hot on your neck, and you nearly came from his words alone.

“I’m supposed to be making you feel good.” You moaned, grinding your hips against Frank’s fingers again. Your actions completely juxtaposed your words, but you couldn’t help yourself. Frank was just so good at making you come.

“Making you feel good makes me feel good, sweetheart.” Frank pressed the pads of his fingers against the fabric of your panties, swirling them around in an achingly slow circle. A shiver worked its way up your spine, and you threw your head back, gasping with pleasure.

“Are you sure?” You panted, unsure if you could stand being clothed for another second.

Frank responded by swiping your underwear aside and running two fingers between the folds of your pussy. When his fingers finally covered your clit, you let out an agonizing moan. Frank resumed circling his fingers around your clit, but his pace was more urgent, like he wanted to see you get off on his fingers just as much as you wanted to come all over his hand.

Your legs began to shake, and you wrapped your arms around Frank’s neck, pulling him into a feverish kiss. His tongue dipped into your mouth, and you began to grind against his fingers in a rhythm that matched the pace of his hand. It was a flurry of passionate kisses and sinful moans as you came apart on Frank’s hand. You breathed through the orgasm as it crashed through you, slumping against Frank’s shoulder in exhaustion.

“My beautiful, beautiful girl,” Frank pulled his hand away from your clit, wrapping his arms around you and flipping you over so that your back lied against the front seat of the truck, “You did so good.”

Frank hovered over you, pressing a soft kiss onto your nose before gently capturing your lips with his. You were still reeling from your orgasm, content to stay in this position forever, when Frank suddenly sat up. You blinked up at him, wondering if maybe his lunch was already over, but the way he began to pull your jeans down your hips told you he was nowhere near done with you.

You kicked your jeans and panties off, pussy clenching around nothing as the air hit your wet core. You spread your legs further, giving Frank a view of how easily he’d ruined you.

“Fuck baby,” Frank groaned, rubbing his thumb through the slickness that had begun running down your inner thighs, “This is the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”

You moaned when he began playing with your clit again, overstimulated but too turned on to stop him.

“Can I taste you?” Frank asked, fully focused on how wet you were. His eyes were glazed over, pupils dilated with desire.

“You’re being too generous.” You sat up, resting on your elbows as he finally locked eyes with you.

“I want to.” He shrugged, already positioning his face near your core. He threw your legs over his shoulders and rested his hands on your stomach, glancing up at you to make sure he had your consent. You spread your legs wider, nodding.

“I need words, baby. Can I taste you?”

Frank’s hot breath coasted over your pussy as he spoke, and the dull throb of desire erupted into a full blown ache.

“Yes, God, please.” You whined.

When his tongue finally met your core, you threw your head back and moaned so loud you were sure the entire neighborhood heard it. Frank was astonishingly graceful at eating pussy, approaching it like it was a dance between his tongue and your clit. He knew exactly when to be gentle, when to roughen it up, and when you were seconds away from coming all over his tongue, he knew exactly how to suck on your clit so that you saw stars for hours afterwards.

Frank normally liked to take his time with this, coaxing multiple small orgasms out of you before finally letting you fall apart around his mouth, but today he was on a time crunch, and he wanted to make you come around his cock before his lunch break was over, too. So instead of going slow and steady, Frank dined on your pussy like a man starved. He circled your clit with the tip of his tongue, licking and sucking all throughout your core as you came closer and closer to your orgasm. He teased your entrance with his tongue, coasting over it every time he flattened his tongue against your folds.

“Oh shit, Frank.” You groaned, arching your back.

He hummed against your pussy, which had your legs shaking so aggressively that he had to clamp his hands over them to keep them from sliding off his shoulders. You were so close, and Frank knew it. He smirked against your core, trailing his tongue around your clit before slightly sucking. Your body felt like it was on fire, and when the crux of your orgasm finally hit you, you couldn’t stop yourself from squeezing your legs into the sides of Frank’s head. You could feel your heart pounding against your ribs, and no matter how deeply you inhaled, you couldn’t quite catch your breath. The world around you faded, and the only thing you could focus on was the feeling of Frank’s hands gently caressing your thighs.

Frank crawled up your body, hovering over you as you came back to yourself. You hadn’t expected to come that hard, especially not in a cramped space like Frank’s car, but he always managed to surprise you.

You swallowed thickly, blinking up at his swollen and slick lips. He was always beautiful, you thought, but right now, you’d never seen anything as beautiful as him covered in your wetness. You leaned upwards, kissing him with every ounce of yourself that you could. The taste of you was still fresh on his tongue, and he groaned when you swiped your tongue against his, grinding against your unclothed pussy with his denim jeans.

The friction was overstimulating, but you wanted him deep inside you so badly that you began meeting his hips halfway, grinding against him so heavily that you were sure he’d have stains on the front of his jeans later. He shifted his weight onto one arm, reaching down and unbuckling his belt with one had. He was moving at a languid pace, and you couldn’t stop yourself from knocking his hand out of the way and unbuttoning his jeans. He chuckled when you undid his zipper in record time, forcing his jeans and underwear halfway down his thighs.

“Someone’s eager to feel my cock, huh?” Frank cooed, brushing his nose against yours, “You want me to fuck you silly, sweetheart?”

You wrapped your hand around his achingly hard cock, pumping up and down as he teased you. The tip was already wet, drops of precum beading at the head.

“Can I ride you?” You asked, pushing his shoulders slightly.

He raised his eyebrows at your boldness. You were usually so eager to let him control the situation, but the look in your eyes when you spoke told a different story. You wanted to make him feel good, and you weren’t planning on letting him leave until that happened.

“Sometimes,” you started, sitting up and pushing Frank down into the seat underneath you, “I want to be the one to fuck you silly.”

You straddled Frank and lined him up with your entrance. You were not going to waste any more of his break not fucking him. Frank let out a stuttering moan as you lowered yourself onto him. When you were finally full of him, stretched out and pliant, you panted at the overwhelming feeling. No matter how many times Frank fucked you, it always took you a few moments to adjust to his size.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” Frank leaned his head against the headrest, grabbing onto your hips in a brutal hold that you knew would bruise later.

You slowly began to rock against him, holding onto the seat behind him for leverage. You moaned when his cock pushed against the spot deep within you that drove you crazy, and couldn’t help the way your breath stuttered out of you. Frank angled his face towards yours, watching in awe as you panted over him, licking your lips and squeezing your eyes closed. He leaned toward you, nipping your jaw with his teeth in a teasing gesture. You ground down on him even harder, and he chuckled.

“You’re doing so good, sweetheart.” Frank hummed, running his nose along the curve of your cheekbone. “Your pretty pussy drives me crazy sometimes.”

“Yeah?” You mumbled, picking up your rhythm as you grinded against him. You yelped when you felt his arm wrap around your waist, bucking up into you so hard that you swore you saw stars.

“Can’t think about anything else some days.” Frank nuzzled his cheek against yours, tightening his hold around you. “You’re fucking perfect, baby.”

You mewled at his praise, even though you had made it clear that you wanted to be the one making him feel good, not the other way around. You couldn’t help but mewl. He always knew what to say to make your chest warm and fuzzy, even when he was fucking up into you so hard that you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk straight for a week.

“C’mon baby girl,” Frank’s tone was low and delicious, and the tingle that worked its way up your spine told you exactly how much you liked the sound of it, “Give me one more, baby.”

“Frank, I-” You let out a guttural moan when you felt his fingers tracing a circle around your clit. Your legs began to shake again, and you knew you were seconds away from coming again. “I’m supposed to be making you feel good.” You finally panted, quickening your pace as you grinded against his cock and fingers.

“I want you to come on my cock, sweetheart.” Frank smirked as you squeezed around him, “That will make me feel good, baby. Can you do that for me, baby girl? Hmm? I know you can. Make me feel good, sweet girl. Come on my cock.”

Frank was talking you through it, and you could not fathom how incredibly hot it was. The intensity at which your orgasm hit you was earth-shattering, and if the neighborhood hadn’t heard you earlier, they certainly heard you this time. You rocked against Frank, whining and panting and doing everything in your power not to fall apart completely before he could reach his high as well.

“My good girl,” Frank wrapped both arms around your waist, pulling your chest against his so that he could kiss you all over your face, “You did so good, sweetheart.”

His praise made you whine, and you couldn’t stop yourself from slamming your lips into his, quickening your pace as you grinded against him. It was overstimulating, sure, but you couldn’t think of anything you wanted more than Frank coming deep inside you.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Frank mumbled against your lips, tightening his arms around you, “’m gonna come.”

“Come in me,” you panted, squeezing around his cock.

“Yeah, baby? Want me to fill you up?” Frank was breathing so heavy against your ear that goosebumps littered down your back and shoulders. You dug your nails into his shoulders as he pounded up into you, and when he finally came, warm spurts of come coating your walls, you both slumped against each other, worn out and sweaty.

Frank’s heart was pounding in his chest, and you subconsciously tapped your finger against his neck in the same rhythm until it finally calmed down. You leaned back, glancing over Frank’s features. His eyes were closed, chin tilted upwards in a relaxed, casual position. The stress creases in his face were long gone, and he looked a decade younger than he did when you’d shown up earlier.

“Wish we could stay like this.” He mumbled, running his fingers along your thighs.

“Me too, Frankie.” You nodded, cupping his cheeks in your hands, and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “How much time until you have to go back?”

Frank slightly opened one of his eyes, checking the clock on the dash before closing it again. “Just enough time to drop you off at home and come back. The guys will appreciate the extended lunch.”

You shook your head. “I can get an uber or take the subway, Frank. You don’t have to drive me.”

“What kind of man would I be if I didn’t drive my beautiful girlfriend home after she came all the way here to bring me lunch and make me feel good?”

“A normal one.” You snorted, rolling your eyes.

“Well then I guess I ain’t normal.” Frank smiled, leaning in to kiss you before tapping your thigh with his hand. “I hate to say it, but I can’t drive with you straddlin’ me like this.”

You lifted yourself off him, rolling over into the passenger seat. Your limbs still buzzed with pleasure, and it took you longer than you care to admit to find your panties and put them back on. You were pulling your jeans over your hips when Frank began to roll the windows down and wipe the windshield off. You and him had emitted enough fog that it was impossible to see out of any of the windows, let alone drive.

When the windows were finally cleared and Frank had texted Antonio to let him know he’d be a few minutes late getting back from lunch (Antonio’s only response was the winking emoji), Frank drove you back to the apartment you shared with him. He walked you to the door, kissed you goodbye, turned, then turned back to kiss you again.

“I left your lunch on the passenger seat, okay? It should still be warm with how hot the truck was earlier.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Frank grinned, pulling you in for a third goodbye kiss.

You finally pushed him off you, chuckling when he tried to chase your lips with his.

“Go to work, Frank. I’ll see you tonight.” You laughed as he rolled his eyes, giving you a final kiss before turning and jogging back to the truck. When you closed the door and locked it, you slumped towards the bedroom, the only thing on your mind being the nap you were about to take.

Frank ate his lunch on the drive back to the construction site, nearly getting choked up when he realized you had gotten him Lombardi’s pizza. You knew how much he loved it, and he vowed to show you how grateful he was when he returned home. When he made it back to the site, he was only half an hour late, but that didn’t stop the guys from joking with him about it.

“Twice in one day, boss? She worth it?”

“Must be. He doesn’t look half as grumpy as he usually does.”

Frank rolled his eyes, counting to ten as a way to manage his anger before outwardly responding.

“If any of you fuckers have anything else to say about her, I’ll bash your heads in with the sledgehammer. Got it?”

Frank glanced at the faces around him. So much for managing his anger. Antonio was the only one that didn’t look utterly terrified as they returned to work.

“So, boss.” Antonio started, smirking as he leaned against one of the structural beams.

“Don’t you start.” Frank pointed at him for emphasis, warning the kid away from any topics he may regret bringing up. He really wasn’t a bad kid, and he was one of the hardest workers Frank had encountered in the business, but he did not want to discuss his love life with his 22 year old employee.

“I was just going to ask how much plaster you think we’ll need for the bathroom.” Antonio pointed behind him with his thumb, gesturing towards the space that would soon be an ensuite.

“Sure you were.” Frank couldn’t wait to end the day and crawl into your loving arms, but he had a shit ton of work to do before then, and he would always be the last one on site for the evening.

Later that evening, after he’d finally trudged through the door, showered, and ravished you, you were caressing his chest as he pressed a kiss to your hair.

“So,” you murmured, “D’ya break any jaws after I left?”

“You’ll be happy to know that I didn’t break any jaws after you left.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him.

“What?” He asked.

“You mean to tell me that you didn’t lose your shit on anyone after I left today?”

“No,” he shook his head, “that’s not what I said. I definitely lost my shit, but I didn’t break anyone’s jaw.”

“Oh, that’s good.” You mumbled sarcastically, rolling your eyes and chuckling.

You nuzzled into his chest, relaxing as he enveloped you with warmth.

“I love you, sweet girl. I’m not ashamed of that. Hell, I’ll shout it from the rooftop if you want me to. I just don’t like people knowing my business. I want to keep you safe.”

“I know, Frankie. I’m not upset about it. I love you too.”

“You promise?”

“That I love you?” You smirked against his chest.

“No, smart ass. That you’re not upset.”

“I promise.” You grinned as he pressed a kiss into your hair.

Tag List:

@xleiaorgana @mukbee @dilfs5678 @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @mymamalife @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @fightmilk @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @merleisapartygod @babyslyth @legocity2 @quackson03 @certifiedhunter @deliciousfestsalad @dumb-fawkin-bitch @americaarse @thatgirljayy @hiyabyeyababy @theesexystallion @scoliobean @myguiltypleasures21 @alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @lilyevans1 @imagineadream @22carolina08 @definitelynotsugar @casualchaoticdevil @peachy-flxwr @nashja @megmastersgf

[yesbutmakeitgay]

Lifelines Intertwined

Chapter 1

Valkyrie x Reader

Summary: You are sent to New Asgard to help King Valkyrie protect her Kingdom. Soulmate AU.

Word count: 1.7k

Soulmates, Slow burn, Fluff, Angst.

A/N: Been working on this one for a while, hope you like it :)

Beta'd by @cordeliasdarling <3

Masterlist | This Work's Masterlist | AO3

Ripping Wings Off Of Butterflies

Soulmarks. A permanent imprint on your body that matches that of the person you’re destined to spend the rest of your life with.

Everybody has one, you have one, your partner has one, or at least, you hope you do, have a partner, that is.

They are simple, discreet, and easy to hide, but clear enough that you can spot your soulmate with the utmost certainty once you see it. Except, your mark is anything but. You were born with what can only be described as a hieroglyph expanding the entirety of your left forearm, in a tint so light, it almost blends in with your skin.

Your soulmark is so strange and in plain sight that it turns heads every time you're out in public, so you've learned to hide it underneath a hoodie, no matter the weather.

Having gone your whole life with such an odd mark has turned you cold, distant, emotionless. You joined S.H.I.E.L.D. hoping to be a productive member of society under the assumption that your coworkers would have a similar worldview to yours, but, it turns out, even the superheroes have found their life partners.

It has come to a point in your life where you are convinced you don’t really have a soulmate, and you are working towards being okay with that.

"Fury, do you copy?"

"What is it, Danvers?"

"The Kree are targeting New Asgard, you have to do something about it."

"Do I?"

"You need to send backup, quickly."

"Can’t you deal with it yourself?"

"I would, but I can't be in two places at once."

"The King hasn't contacted me at all."

"She’s more stubborn than me, please say yes so I can let her know."

"Fine."

You were called into Fury’s office first thing this morning, but you’re not really feeling so lively today, much like every other day, so you take your time. You slowly drag your feet into his office and slump on the chair in front of his desk without saying a word.

"You’re late," he states flatly.

"Okay."

"You’re not gonna half ass an excuse?"

"Uh, traffic?" you shrug.

He crosses his arms out of habit, "You live in this building."

"You said, 'half ass,'" you retaliate.

He starts to wonder why you were his first choice for this, but soon remembers you’re the most qualified for it, so he hands you a folder, "I have an assignment for you."

"Do you ever bring good news?"

"I think you might actually like this one."

The trip to New Asgard was longer than you expected, which gave you enough time to hype yourself up. For some reason you were determined to not be an asshole in front of The King.

As soon as you land, you can feel your heart beating faster and your hands begin to sweat. The pilot opens the door for you and wishes you luck on your mission.

You come down from the aircraft and immediately spot King Valkyrie making her way to you in all her mighty glory. She greets you and shows you around while her assistant takes your bags to your room.

"Marv speaks very highly of you," she comments as you’re walking into the palace.

"I try my best," you hesitate a little embarrassed.

"Thank you again, for making the trip and for helping me out here, New Asgard will really appreciate it."

"I hope I can do you justice."

"I’m sure you will," she opens the door to her office and gestures for you to come in, "do you have a codename?"

Every second that passes helps you feel more at ease with your surroundings, "I don't subscribe to such performative crap."

She laughs, "What should I call you then?"

"Whatever you'd call someone in my position, Agent? Soldier?"

She gently shakes her head, "You’re gonna be my right hand man, you need a more respectable title than that," her eyes fixate on yours, "how about 'Princess'?"

Your heart skips a beat, "If it is to your liking." You clear your throat.

"Alright then, my assistant will show you to your quarters, I will see you back here first thing tomorrow," she instructs with a smile on her face.

"Yes, Your Majesty, it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance." You bow your head.

She chuckles at your behavior, "You can drop the manners now, I already like you," she reassures you, shooting you a wink, "see you tomorrow."

You get to your room and unpack your stuff, you’re feeling good about this, maybe a change of scenery is exactly what you need to get your mind off of your imminent loneliness.

The King sits at her desk, reflecting. When Carol first made the suggestion, Valkyrie was unsure about having an agent in her Kingdom for support, but, after your introduction, she wonders why Carol didn’t bring it up sooner.

The next morning you get up as soon as the clock rings feeling your feet bounce on the ground, making your every move easier. It’s the first time in years you get up without snoozing your alarm even once. You get ready with your trusty hoodie on and knock on The Kings office at 7am sharp.

You walk in as she instructs and are surprised to see she’s already working. You stand by her desk, waiting for her to acknowledge you. After a moment, she lifts her head to see you, "You look hot."

"Thanks," you smirk.

"I mean temperature wise." She gives you a cheeky look, before going back to her work.

"Oh, no, I’m okay."

"It’s the middle of summer." She raises a questioning eyebrow without making eye contact.

"You’re wearing a three piece suit," you retaliate as you sit down in front of her.

She finally puts her work to the side to give you her undivided attention, "I am The King, what's your excuse?"

You feel as if you’ve been put on the spotlight, "It’s my emotional support hoodie?"

"Are you not wearing anything underneath?" she pries as she leans on the desk.

"If I say no, will that get you off my back?" You really hope she isn’t gonna make you take it off.

"I’ll take that thing off your back." She stands up and opens one of the drawers behind her to produce a uniform, she turns around and hands it to you.

You extend your arms and take it without even thinking, then unfold it to reveal a costume similar to her battling one, cape and all, "Do you have anything less…dramatic?"

"You work for The King now, you must look the part." Your brain starts racing, looking for a way to conceal your soulmark in such a bold outfit.

"Can I at least get sleeves?"

Sensing your unease, Valkyrie arranges a visit to the royal tailor, so you can adjust the uniform to your preference, with some restrictions. You compromise on a shorter cape, and manage to get your hands on a pair of gloves that go almost up to your elbows, seamlessly concealing your mark.

For the rest of your first day, King Valkyrie takes the time to show you how things work around the palace and to work out what your responsibilities will be during you stay.

"Do you have dinner plans?" Valkyrie asks when the sun sets.

You’re surprised by the question, "I just got here."

"Let me rephrase that, you are coming to dinner with me."

You can only nod obediently, "Okay."

You both take a short walk to a quaint little restaurant near the palace, as soon as you enter, your nostrils are invaded with the most delicious smell you've ever experienced.

A waiter soon greets The King, "Welcome, Your Majesty."

"Thank you, we're having the usual, please." Val walks you to what seems to be the table she always sits at in the far right corner of the building.

"We?" you repeat after you sit down.

"Yes, part of the benefit of being your boss is I get to decide what you eat," she jokes.

As you wait for your food, The King takes the opportunity to get to know you better. You’ve never been a fan of small talk, often opting for curt, sarcastic responses, and you can bet that this time will be no different.

"What do you like to do in your free time?"

Stare at a wall and rot, try not to think about dying alone. "I like to go on walks where I can be alone and reflect on life," you admit, surprising yourself, "what about you?"

"Drink," you hum in complete understanding, "I also enjoy visiting the children of The Kingdom and teaching them the ways of the sword, for recreational and self defense purposes." That's very sweet, you think.

"Do you enjoy children?"

"I suppose I don't really think of them as children, they're just small people." You're pleased by her answer, you never understood people belittling children merely for being small.

"You’re a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, right? What drew you to the job?" she follows.

The prospect of an early death. "I guess I always felt that life could be more than just self serving, I wanted to help people."

She gives you a soft smile, "I may not have chosen my jobs, but I feel quite the same."

Maybe you aren't so good at lying to The King.

"What’s royalty like?" You feel an uncharacteristic interest towards her.

"Mostly paperwork these days, which is probably why Marv thought it would be best to have you around, cover all our bases."

"Do you ever miss being a warrior?"

"One does not stop being a warrior simply because there aren’t any more battles left to fight."

Are you telling me you’re a pacifist now? "Doesn’t mean you can’t miss it, though, some of the biggest pleasures of my job come in the form of being allowed to be violent," you snark, making her chuckle.

The food arrives, and you have your first taste, "Oh my God, this is even better than it smells!" You exclaim with your mouth full.

Valkyrie grins knowingly, a feeling of pride washing over her, "It’s a power move," you look at her, confused, "whenever I have a diplomatic visitor I bring them here and order for them, makes them more inclined to trust me."

"That’s pretty clever."

"I know," she smiles.

"Why are you telling me your secret tactic?"

She stops in the middle of taking a bite of her food, "I actually don't know, perhaps this time it worked in reverse."

Chapter Two

[randy-inks-writing-blog]

Lonely (Lucifer x Hellborn! GN Reader)

—————————————

Just some fluff with sad boi Lucifer for fun. Tell me what you think and what I can improve on!

Edit: You can read the fanfic on Ao3

—————————————

Succubuses and incubuses are known for their sexual activities. You, however, choose a distinct career path. Instead, you use your skills to comfort people. Give them a little massage, or a talk too. Many people are surprised to find lots of sinners have parent issues. On rare occasions, customers just want to pretend that their partner is still with them. Your coworker walked up to you with a smug smile. She stops at your desk and says “Guess who just asked for your services, (y/n)” you till your head, surely must be someone important if she’s bothering you. “Who?” you ask softly. The coworker smiles wide and answers; “the king of hell, himself!” Shocked at what your coworker says, you stood up and said “Lucifer Morningstar? Do you know what he wants? Oh, dear Satan, I gotta look good for him!” Your coworker grabs your shoulders and holds you still. “(y/n) chill, he just wants someone to talk to. Just wear something comfy, your appointment is at 3 tomorrow, ok?” You nod your head. That’s enough time to calm your nerves, hopefully.

You walk up to the doors of Lucifer’s manor, quietly you knock on the door. A small old imp opens the door for you. He bows his head and tells you to follow him to Lucifer’s room. As the two of you walked, you looked at all the portraits of Lucifer’s family. Most of them were of the missing queen and their daughter, Charlie Morningstar. The butler stops right in front of Lucifer’s room. You stop right next to the imp as he knocks on Lucifer’s door. “Sire, your guest is here.” You heard a response but could barely make any words out. The butler opens the door for you, and you slowly walked in. The room is positively a mess, rubber ducks everywhere as far as you can see. You walked over to the king’s bed and gave a small bow to him. Looking at the fallen angel’s face, he like his room looks like a mess. Small tears fall down the king’s face, looks like he’s been crying for days. You sat next to the king, being mindful of your wings and tail. Lightly, you place a hand on the king’s check and softly rub it. With caution, you spoke to the king; “Your highness, is there anything specific you need?” the crying angel answers back “call me Lucifer please. And no, I just- I just need someone to hold me like Lilith once did.”

Well, that’s a bit awkward. How long has the queen been gone for again? Seven years, who knew the king of all of hell was just a lonely guy? Hey, you’re not going to judge you’re the one who took this job. You laid down next to the king and pulled him closer to you. Lucifer’s head laid right on your chest as you wrap your wings around the king. The king cried into your chest. Good thing this is a gender non-specific fanfic. “I miss my wife; I miss her a lot. Why? Why did she have to leave me? Was I not good enough?” he sobs, making the situation more awkward for you. You ran a hand through his blonde hair with a smile before you whispered. “I think you’re good enough, Lucifer. Maybe you should stop thinking about the past and think about your future.” Lucifer looks up at you with hopeful eyes quietly he ask, “Like my daughter?” You nod your head yes, but Lucifer just looks away from you. “If only it was that easy. All I can think about is the past. I’m the one of the doom of all of humanity. I’m the one who convinces Eve to eat that fruit.” You cup Lucifer’s face and make him look at you again. “While that is true, you also help make hell, and without hell there wouldn’t be imps, hellhounds, succubuses and incubuses. And those loan sharks that have those weird Italian accents yet don’t know a single word from that language.” Lucifer listens to your talk, feeling a little better. The king nuzzles into your chest once again, finding your body heat comforting. You snuggle closer to the king; this is something you’re going to brag about to your coworker. “I guess you’re right, in a way. Thank you for doing this for me. I’ll double your tip when this is over.” Lucifer softy spoke, now feeling a little sleepy. You nod your head and lightly pet Lucifer’s hair.

—————————————

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Empty House

Casey Novak x autistic fem!reader Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. Graphic sex, fingering, language. Word count: 1,702 You were more at peace than you'd felt in weeks as you settled into your office chair, a cup of coffee steaming beside you. You always got your work done, of course, but it was harder and took longer with the girls running in and out of your home office, not to mention King's constant needs. For the first few weeks of your foster placement, Casey had taken some time off work so you could all get settled. But when she'd gone back to work, the lion's share of childcare had fallen to you, for the pure, logistical fact that you worked from home.

It wasn't that you minded, exactly. You loved the kids, each in their own particular way, and loved taking care of them. You still got your work done, after all. But you missed the days where it was just you and the work, where you could be completely focused, without King waking up early from his nap or Imogen and Laylie badgering you for grilled cheeses. But today was Imogen's first day of fourth grade. You and Laylie and King had dropped her off at her new school, and you hoped with everything in you that the day would go well. Imogen's school day wasn't over until 3:00 PM, and Casey's mom had graciously offered to take Laylie and King for the day a few times a week, so you could have a break and get some work done. You'd had Carol fill out the foster care respite provider paperwork during the kids' first week at home, when she was nearly bursting with excitement to meet them. You and Casey had decided to wait to introduce the kids to anyone else until after the first week, which was almost more than Carol could bear. She texted Casey incessantly. And when Casey stopped responding, Carol moved on to you. Partly to keep her at bay and partly because you knew it'd come in handy later, you'd sent her the respite paperwork. Now, sitting peacefully in the office, lo-fi beats thumping softly through the speakers, you congratulated yourself on your foresight. You were about halfway through your work day, enjoying your uninterrupted Zoom calls and the steady flow of working well, when you got a text from Casey. How's your day going? ❤️ Good! You? 💖 Same old, same old. Murderers, etc. 🔪 Are the kids driving you crazy yet? No, they're actually with your mom for the day. 🙏🏻 You waited for a response, but when none came you assumed she was in court or an interview or somehow otherwise occupied. Being left on read was pretty par for the course with Casey. It came with the job. You knew it wasn't anything personal. You got back to work and, a few minutes later, were on a Zoom call with one of your favorite coworkers, discussing a new advertising campaign for a healthcare company. You were outlining deliverables when you heard the door to your apartment open and shut. You turned your head and furrowed your eyebrows."You good?" your coworker asked.

"Yeah..." You waited a beat before continuing. "Hey, let me hit you back in a little bit, I think my wife–"

Your office door slammed open, cutting you off, and revealing a very flushed and frazzled Casey in the doorway, presumably having biked here at top speed.

"Hey," she said, panting, leaning against the wall to catch her breath.

Your coworker waved from the computer screen. "Hey, Casey!"

"Hi!" she called back. "Can I borrow her for a few minutes?"

"Sure!" He gave you both a thumbs up before signing off.

You closed out of Zoom and swiveled to face Casey, concerned. "Are you okay?" you asked. "Why are you h–"

Casey's lips slammed into yours, her legs straddling your lap as she kissed you hungrily, desperately. Your stomach somersaulted, and you tried, mostly failing, to keep your bearings about you as her tongue moved into your mouth, her hips grinding into you. When she slipped a hand into your waistband, you pulled away.

"Woah!" you said, grabbing her hands and holding them back. "I'm at work!" You squinted at her. "And you're also at work, right? Don't you have court today?"

She pressed her lips to yours again, breathless. "Not for another hour."

"Casey," you protested, always the more realistic one. "It'll take you half that time to bike back."

She whined, sinking her teeth into your neck. You moaned a little, despite your better judgment. "I don't care," she stated. Casey looked at you with such need, such desperation, like you were something to be devoured–you couldn't help but smirk.

You bit your lip, weighing when your coworker expected you back on Zoom and how quickly you could get Casey off.

"Come on!" she pleaded, wrapping her arms around your neck and running a hand through your hair. "The kids are gone! Please, it's been so long!"

You laughed, eyes sparkling as you basked in her neediness. "We literally had sex two days ago!"

Casey was getting more and more turned on, continuing to push her hips into you. She pressed her head into your shoulder as she sought more friction. "Yeah," she said breathily. "But we have to be so quiet when the kids are sleeping."

You sighed, running your thumbs up and down Casey's waist, and glanced at the clock. "Alright," you relented. "But it's gonna have to be in the shower because I don't have time to fuck you and shower after."

Casey nearly tripped lunging off your lap and sprinting to the bathroom, leaving a trail of clothes strewn behind her. You grinned and followed her, pretty damn pleased with yourself that she wanted you this badly on a Monday at noon.

When you walked in, Casey was already completely undressed, running a hand under the shower head to gauge the water temperature. You pulled off your clothes and folded them carefully, placing them on the counter.

Casey stood impatiently next to the shower, arms crossed over her chest, clearly trying and failing not to pressure you into moving faster.

You nodded at her, and she smiled–a huge, goofy grin–and stepped into the shower. You followed, resting your hands on her hips and pulling her to you.

Her breath caught in her throat as you ran your tongue across it. "I don't have much time for extracurriculars," you told her, biting her earlobe. She groaned, grabbing your ass and pulling you into her.

"I don't need anything extra today," she said, planting kisses across your collarbone. "Just fuck me."

"As you wish," you said, shoving her against the shower wall. She gasped as her skin hit the cold tile, moaning when you maneuvered your thigh in between her legs. "You're gonna have to work with me," you said, taking one of her breasts in your mouth and swirling your tongue around the nipple.

Casey didn't need any encouragement. By the way she was rutting against you, her breath hot, brows scrunched in concentration, you could tell she was already close.

You reached a hand down and slid your fingers through her folds. Already wet. And not from the water. She bucked into you, almost pushing you off balance. You repositioned your leg so that you were more solid, and so that Casey's clit would push directly into your leg. As you slid two fingers into her and curved them toward you, she gasped, wrapping her arms around your neck and laying her head on your shoulder.

Casey did most of the work; all you did was hold her up, keeping a steady rhythm with your fingers, pumping in and out. Her body clenched around you as she chased her climax, her nails pressing half moons into the skin of your back. She growled and bit you–hard–and you knew it'd leave a nasty bruise on the back of your shoulder, which would drive Casey mad later.

Her breath came faster and faster as she bucked wildly against you. It was everything you could do just to hold her, just to keep her from falling. You could tell she was close to the edge. You pushed your fingers back into her, back as far as they could go, gently scraping the soft edges of her, and she jerked into you, emitting something between a cry and a squeak. She came loud and hard, moaning into you, moaning your name, her walls pulsing around your fingers. Her chest heaved, sticky and slick and steaming with the hot water that poured over you. Eventually, she quivered into silence, her hips still jerking into you as the last of her orgasm left her.

Casey shook slightly, her head resting on your shoulder, body wrapped tightly around yours. "Thank you," she breathed.

You kissed the side of her head, pushing wet strands of hair out of her face. "Any time."

When she found her balance again, she tipped your chin up and kissed you passionately, with the same intensity and verve with which she'd just come. When she pulled away, it was you who were breathless.

"Can I return the favor?" she asked, smiling cheekily.

You nodded quickly. "God, yes."

Casey had just begun kissing her way down your body when her phone alarm went off.

"Fuck!" she yelled, running a hand through her wet hair.

"Court?" you asked. You already knew the answer.

"Sorry." She slunk out of the shower, apologetic.

"It's okay. I can take care of myself."

Her eyes widened as she toweled off. "Don't do that! I'll do it later!"

You threw up your hands in mock frustration. "As in, hours later after the kids go to bed!?"

"Oh, come on." Casey needled you, pulling on her bra and pantyhose. She bit her lip and smirked at you. "No one makes you come like I do, not even you."

"I hate that you're right." You squirted shampoo into your hand and scrubbed it through your hair, pointing a soapy finger at her. "But for the record, you started this!"

Casey collected the rest of her clothes from the hallway, pulling them on as she went. She checked her appearance in the mirror once and shrugged, then quickly pulled your top half out of the shower stream.

"Thank you," she said, kissing you quickly and rushing her words. "I love you so much. I promise I'll make it up to you later."

She ran out of the bathroom, and you called after her, "You're gonna go to court with wet hair!?"

"It'll dry on the way!" she yelled, the door slamming shut behind her.

You shook your head, lathering your body with soap, trying to come down from how much Casey had turned you on. One thing was for sure: it was going to be a lot harder to focus on work this afternoon.

[elizabethemerald]

Son of the Red Hood: Part 4

Diana stepped out from the Zeta tube as the computer softly announced her name. She glanced around at the cave she was in. Bruce always has something interesting going on, and while she doesn’t particularly care about cars or computers, it’s still fascinating to hear him talk about his various projects. The Bat himself was sitting in front of his wall of screens, though he had turned to look at her. She knew she and Clark were some of the few members of the League that could teleport into the Batcave without asking permission first. 

“Diana. Is there an emergency?” Bruce asked. 

“No, Bruce, I just thought I would come to visit.” 

He gave her a long, considering look before turning back to his computer. She smiled at his back. He never did handle strangers in his space well. Especially unannounced and unplanned ones. 

“Does your sudden visit have anything to do with your unscheduled questions during the debrief from the Justice League Dark yesterday?” 

“Mmm.” She hummed for a second and came to stand behind him to look up at the map of Gotham he had on his display. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get my questions on the itinerary. I had been researching in the archives right up to the last moment before the debrief.”

“Hn.” She took his grunt as forgiveness. The Gods only knew how often Bruce had gotten stuck in a research rabbit hole. She set a hand on his shoulder and when his shoulders dropped a little she guessed he wasn’t feeling touch-adverse at the moment and gently rubbed his arm. 

“As to your question, yes it does.” 

“Hn.” She could hear the creak of his gloves as he clenched his fist. “And what does this Ghost King have to do with Gotham?” 

“I don’t believe that your city is in any danger.” He relaxed his hand but stayed focused on his screens. “I need time to be certain though. I would ask, as your fellow hero, your coworker and your friend, that you not investigate until I’ve had a chance to look around.” 

Diana could almost physically feel the internal struggle Bruce was in. His unending desire to know every secret and to puzzle out every mystery versus his respect for her. This is why she didn’t try to go behind his back, if she had just showed up in Gotham to start looking for  the Ghost King Lord Clockwork had mentioned, he would have been onto her in a moment and stuck his nose somewhere dangerous. Hopefully by outright asking him to give her time, she could find the little king without his unnecessary involvement. 

“Will you call if you get in over your head?” He asked, turning to look at her. 

She just raised an eyebrow at him in return. She wasn’t going to scold him even though she had gone toe-to-toe with Darkseid, it was clear that his collection of wards were good for him if he was trying to ensure her health, no matter how unnecessary. 

“I will call for aid as soon as I need it.” She said to help alleviate his concerns. “And I will do my best not to involve myself with your rogues or your citizens unless someone’s life is in danger.” 

He gave her a stiff nod before turning back to the computer. 

“If you would like, you can borrow one of my cars. Alfred can give you the keys.” 

She nodded in return even though his back was to her. He would look for her response on the cameras in the cave once she left. She gave him a little smile and walked up the stairs to the manor proper. It was high time to find a little king that was in need of her tutelage. 

.

Jason woke up better rested than he thinks he’s ever done. Despite waking up to comfort Danny from a nightmare last night he still slept perfectly. He was a little surprised to wake up to Danny sleeping under his arm, but his arm wasn’t even tingly from the boy sleeping on him. He gently nudged Danny to wake him up. 

“Hey bud, how’d you get in?” He asked, his voice still rough from sleep. 

Danny sat up and blinked at him for a few seconds, also seemingly still a little asleep. 

“I just felt like sleeping here.” Danny said, before rubbing his eyes and giving a big, cat-like yawn. Jason swore he could see little fangs in Danny’s mouth before he closed it with a snap and began hopping his way along the bed. 

“Come on Jay! It’s time for breakfast!” Danny said excitedly. 

Jason smiled and followed the boy. He was endlessly thankful his siblings had come by when he first took Danny in because the kid had toys and games, a bed and blankets, plenty of clothes and there was a variety of food in the cupboards. Steph had bought him a Wonder Woman bear, probably mostly to make fun of Jason’s long time love of all things WW, but now Danny carried it everywhere. 

The two of them tramped their way into the kitchen, Danny standing on his tiptoes to see the kitchen countertops. Jason started pulling pans out of cupboards and food from the fridge to make them breakfast. 

“Can you teach me how to cook?” Danny asked, his eyes so damn big that Jason can’t help but nod, and he’s rewarded by the brightest smile he’d seen. It felt like he needed sunglasses. 

“Sure thing pipsqueak. Just promise not to touch the burners or my knives until I say you’re old enough, ok?” 

“Of course Jay!” 

Jason turned away, trying not to think about the flame that burned in him every time he saw how happy Danny was. He couldn’t let himself get attached, sooner or later they were going to find the kid’s parents and he would leave Jason’s life and leave it just as dim and dull as it had been before, but he couldn’t seem to stop the flame from burning brighter as he prepared simple omelets for their breakfast. 

Danny rested his chin on Jason’s shoulder as he showed off how to flip the omelet properly. It took several seconds for his brain to catch up with the fact that his not yet five year old was suddenly able to rest his head on Jason’s shoulder. He turned slowly and carefully in case he needed to catch Danny, but found the boy just sitting in the air looking at him curiously. 

“Why did you stop? Are the ‘melets done?” Danny tilted his head like a cat; and then his whole body tilted to the side in the air. He was still cross legged but now sitting with his torso parallel to the ground, five feet in the air. 

“Huh. Did you know you were floating?” Jason asked, keeping all of his panicked shrieking on the inside for now. 

Danny looked down at himself before looking down at the floor. 

“Oh. Should I stop?” 

Jason genuinely didn’t know how to answer that. Finally with the same mental shrug he gave to all of the magical, alien and meta shenanigans he’s dealt with turns back to the stove to finish the omelets. If he could deal with the likes of Harley and Ivy without freaking out, he could handle his kid, this kid floating a little. 

“Uh. If it’s comfortable then you can keep doing it.” Jason decided. “You can float around me and your aunts and uncles, but be careful doing it around other people.”

“Right, because if they catch me they’ll cut me open.” Danny said. 

Jason felt his soul curl up and die a little. God bless this kid. Jason was going to personally rip the throat out of anyone who hurt his kid. It would make the heads in a duffle bag seem like a children’s party. 

“That won’t happen again.” Jason growled. “As long as I’m alive I’ll be there to protect you.”

Danny gave him another brilliant smile and the flame in Jason’s chest burned all the brighter. He quickly plated his omelets and handed one to Danny. The kid seemed perfectly content to eat floating in the air. Jason took his to eat the table and Danny followed, still cross legged, though he bumped into a chair and rotated further until he was fully upside down. Somehow, and Jason wasn’t certain he even wanted to start trying to figure out how, Danny was still able to eat his breakfast perfectly well even upside down. The plate and the omelet didn’t seem at all affected by gravity. 

Jason casually took out his phone and snapped a picture and sent it to the “Ants n Buncles” chat that Steph had made for those in the know about Danny. He included the caption, “SO I guess my kid can float.” The chat immediately started going off as his siblings reacted. “I think I also saw fangs in his mouth earlier.” Then he muted the chat so he could focus on the kid in the air in front of him. 

What the hell was he supposed to do with a floating kid? He was not suitably equipped to teach a meta kid with powers AT ALL. 

.

Jazz woke up tired. Fatigue wasn’t especially anything new, nor was the accompanying sense of dread that had kept her up into the early morning, but it was unusual for it to happen now that she had moved away from Amity Park. She no longer had to stay up to make sure her brother and his friends were safe from ghosts, or to treat his injuries after their parents shot him, so she was actually able to get a proper amount of sleep each night. She still wanted check-in texts from Danny to make sure he was ok, but now she usually woke up to them. 

She had anxiously sent him a text yesterday, but the message had been marked undeliverable. That probably meant he was in the Ghost Zone. If he hadn’t texted her by nightfall she was going to have to text Sam and Tucker. It was rare that all three of them spent that long in the Ghost Zone all at once. She didn’t have to worry, not yet, at least, that’s what she kept telling herself as she tried to focus on anything else other than the growing feeling that something terrible had happened. 

It wasn’t like she didn’t have other things to think about! She had exams coming up, and a project due, and rent was coming up, and she had another shift at the student cafe tomorrow, and… and her phone was ringing. She recognized the Amity Park area code but not the specific number. She gave herself a small mental shake and answered the call. 

“Hello, this is Jasmine Fenton, may I ask who is calling?” She said, utilizing her calm and professional script. 

“Hello Jasmine, this is Angela Foley.” Jazz was surprised to hear from Tucker’s mom. While she had spoken to the woman a few times and was generally on good terms with the Foley family, she wasn’t certain why she would be calling her. 

“Oh! Mrs. Foley, is everything ok? Did something happen to Tucker?” Jazz began mentally running through her checklists and emergency protocols. The Foleys didn’t know that Tucker helped Phantom protect Amity, but they were one of the families expected to be the most supportive if they found something out. 

“Jazz, I need to make sure you're sitting, I have something that I need to tell you.” Angela’s voice had a hoarse quality to it that Jazz couldn’t remember from her previous conversations with her. She sat heavily in one of the few seats in her apartment. 

“Did something happen? Is Danny ok?” Jazz asked, her scripts falling apart in the face of her fear. 

“Yesterday there was an explosion at your parent’s house-”

“But things are always exploding in that house!” Jazz interrupted, her fear growing like a creature in her stomach. 

“Jazz, the house is completely destroyed.” Angela said, trying to keep her voice soft and even. “Your family was home, Jazz, your family is gone.” 

“No.” Jazz immediately denies. “Danny must have been out of the house, he must have-”

“Tucker pulled up the police records. He’s so good with computers my boy, but he told me you needed to know, you needed to be told.” Angela was rambling, probably unused to having to share this kind of news. “The police said they pulled three bodies from the house. Jazz, I’m so sorry.” 

“No. He can’t be dead. No.”

“Jasmine, I-”

“NO! No!” Jazz was crying, tears rolling down her face. “No, Danny can’t be gone.” 

She couldn’t breathe, she was screaming and crying and her throat hurt and she couldn’t catch her breath and Danny couldn’t be dead and it wasn’t fair and she should have been there and she left him and she couldn’t breathe and she was screaming and…

Jazz collapsed to the floor with one last heartbroken scream on her lips as her phone fell from her nerveless fingers.

[onestepbackwards]

What’s All The Buzz About? Pt. 7

Hello! 👋 welcome to my next part of my Beemas fic!

Unfortunately I haven’t been feeling well lately, so I apologize if this chapter feels a little off. Regardless, I still hope you all enjoy 💚

Summary: You decide to confront the Kings over what you learned, and things go a lot better than you had expected.

CW: Mentions of egg stuff, very small mention of the king’s ‘equipment’, slight sexual tension, mentions of toxic family and workplace, mostly fluff

Word count: 3914 Words!

Wanna help support me and help me get pieces for a new computer? Consider checking me out here!

First: Here

Next: ?

-

-

-

Staying with Jackie turned out to be a fun affair, after both of you calmed down. He was eager to feed you, play with you, and talk with you about anything and everything.

Even to answer any questions you may have still had.

What you really enjoyed, however, was snuggling him close. You already enjoyed the few bits of physical contact you had here at the hive, sexually charged or otherwise. This though? It felt a bit different. Intimate in a way you could not describe.

Sure you had been close to some of the bees, and had been carried by many of them. But holding Jackie close to your side, and letting him cuddle with you in bed? It was so sweet.

Especially with how he happily laid his head on your chest, and his wings buzzed every so often. Or how he had one set if arms just happily wrapped around you in a way a partner would.

It made you realize just how touch starved you had been, both before and after arriving here in the hive.

Of course, it was only a matter of time before you had to confront the Kings. You weren’t even sure if you would call it that. They weren’t planning on forcing you to do anything, and from what you understood, planned on telling you everything anyway.

Still, you had to tell them you knew. Had to sort everything out.

You were at least thankful that you got some time to think about it as well. Having a few hours to dwell on the pros and cons, and mentally prepare yourself had been a blessing. Had the Kings sprung this on you, even with the intent to let you think about it, you would have been even more overwhelmed than you had been earlier today.

If you were being honest with yourself…

You couldn’t help but find the offer appealing.

What did your life in Nimbasa really have anyway that made you want to stay? Not a whole lot, if you were being honest with yourself. Sure, you had your possessions, but that was an easily solved problem. No doubt the twins would help you move everything to the hive as needed.

There was your family to consider as well, but if you were being honest? You would rather stay with the bees. Your family always cared more about your younger sibling, and you were considered the black sheep. When was the last time they had called to check up on you, and ask about your day?

Months. That’s how long it’s been.

The last time your mother had called, it had been two weeks ago, just to moan and whine about how they needed you to babysit your siblings. Siblings who were more or less grown adults mooching off your parents.

Yeah, safe to say, you could care less about what they thought. If you wanted to become a Queen of a hybrid hive, that was your business, and they could deal with it.

Plus… the idea of just up and moving without saying anything brought you some sick satisfaction. It made you wonder just how long it would take for them to even notice or care.

There was another thing to consider, and that was your job. No doubt the moment you made a return to Nimbasa, regardless if you accept the Kings’ proposal or not, will cause some sort of uproar.

With the stunt your boss and coworkers pulled, they will be lucky if they survive after you are through with them. No way were you letting them get away with leaving you for dead.

Especially after Ingo and Emmet confirmed no one had come near that entrance to the tunnels since your first night here. They had a few drones in place to make sure no one else got hurt if anyone came looking.

No one came.

It made your blood boil, but you weren’t entirely surprised, given how shitty your coworkers were to begin with. Sure, the job paid the bills, but leaving you for dead was insane. You were going to tear them apart the moment you went back home, so your job wouldn’t be an issue if you took the role of Queen.

Little did you know, it would have been very easy for your Kings to take matters into their own hands had anyone returned. They were just as furious the more they got to know you.

Not that you were aware of that fact.

All in all, things that would majorly effect your decision all seemed to point towards agreeing to join the hive.

Though you would admit, the idea of carrying their eggs both made you nervous, and excited you in ways you could only dream of.

Jackie had been kind in helping explain it. How the Kings had two(two!!!) cocks, one like the drones, and one for depositing eggs.

Oh, how that little tidbit of info made you really warm, the more you thought about it. Something that no doubt would make the average person squeamish was something that was turning you on as you gave it more thought.

You were very happy Jackie had fallen asleep. He had also admitted it was incredibly easy to smell your arousal. Something that you were still horribly embarrassed about.

The last thing you needed right now was making poor Jackie hot and bothered as well.

Still, you could not deny how… appealing this was all turning out.

Even the idea of carrying eggs wasn’t so bad, especially when Jackie had explained that there would be nurses ready at your beck and call in case anything happened. You would be receiving top care your entire stay.

And…

…You just really started to like the idea of Ingo and Emmet filling you to the brim with their eggs.

Stars, you were a bit of a pervert.

But you had a feeling you weren’t the only one, if what Jackie had confessed to you was anything to go by.

The whole hive seemed taken with you, not just the Kings, if what Jackie said was anything to go by. Now that you knew this, you were inclined to believe him, all based on how you remember both the drones and twins acting around you. Especially when the room had felt so sexually tense the past week or so.

It made you wonder of the idea of being with the whole hive, or taking the Kings eggs was as much of a turn on for them as it was becoming for you.

You couldn’t help but lick your lips. This offer of theirs was definitely becoming appealing.

There was also the idea of becoming the whole hive’s mate. Everyone had been so sweet to you, it made you wonder how sweet and caring they’d all be if the relationship was official. You’d potentially never have to have a moment without hugs or hand holding ever again.

Even if that was on the sweeter side, you liked the idea of never having to deal with becoming touch starved. Sure, this could easily turn into something more… lewd… but the idea of always being able to hug and cuddle someone who would want it? It had your heart thudding in your chest.

You didn’t even really care about being ‘royalty’ or not. You’ll take the role seriously, of course, but even if you weren’t going to possibly become a Queen, the whole deal was beginning to seem too good to pass up.

That’s why when the King’s eventually went down to see you, you had made up your mind.

If their offer was still on the table, you’d take it.

But first, you had to protect Jackie. You refused to let the bee take the heat for just telling you what you wanted to know. You didn’t think he would be punished harshly, but you weren’t going to take any chances.

So when there was a familiar knock at your door, you tensed, ready for whatever may happen next.

“Come in.” You called out. At your words, Jackie startled awake, though quickly relaxed when you gently rubbed his shoulder.

Not a moment later, Emmet pushed the door open with a smile. This time though, you noticed a slight pause in his step when he saw Jackie. It was brief, and if you hadn’t been looking at him closely, you probably would not have noticed it.

As Emmet entered the room, he clapped his hands together, and Ingo stepped into the room as he did so.

“Good evening, darling! Are doing alright?” He asked. You noticed his smile seemed a little strained when his eyes flickered to Jackie.

Even Ingo behind him seemed to be tense. You were surprised he hadn’t spoken up yet, being the more talkative of the two. He was probably just as surprised seeing Jackie in bed with you as Emmet was, if how tense his posture seemed was any indication.

Patting Jackie’s head, you gave them both a nod and a smile.

“I am doing okay, thank you. I hope you both are doing well yourselves.” You said, genuinely meaning it, and hoping for it.

You didn’t exactly want to have this conversation if they were in a tense mood, after all.

Emmet gave you a big smile, and Ingo let out a cough, looking away for a moment. You swore, he looked a little flustered just from you asking.

Cute.

“We are doing well, my dear.” Ingo said after a moment, trying to straighten out his posture a little more. His voice sounded firm, and was still a little quiet, but he seemed genuinely happy to see you.

He cleared his throat, and walked over next to Emmet.

“Jackie, have you been here this whole time? You’ve been missing-“

You cut Ingo off.

“I requested Jackie stay with me. I hope that is not an issue?” You asked. Ingo’s jaw snapped shut, and Emmet’s antennae twitched.

“That is fine! He was one of the drones assigned to help you, should you need it!” Ingo eventually spoke up, as if sensing Emmet’s irritation.

Jackie shrank a bit under their gaze, clutching onto you a little tighter.

You rubbed his back soothingly. Even if they didn’t plan on doing anything to him, you could only imagine the fear from the last Queen must still stick with a lot of the bees.

There was an odd tension in the air. You could almost taste it. You wondered if they could sense your nervousness and were worried or confused.

Emmet opened his mouth to speak after a few moments, but you beat him to it.

“So you two were planning on making an offer to me about becoming a possible Queen?” You suddenly spoke, just throwing it out there. You were unsure how to breach the subject. As blunt as it was to do this, you figured getting the conversation over with would be optimal compared to stressing about it until they decided to ask you themselves.

Almost immediately at your question, both twins froze. It was almost comical, how their bodies stiffened, and wings and antennae ceased all movement. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say they both had gone pale.

Emmet’s wings twitched once. Then twice. His smile tightened, and you could see the underlaying panic on his face.

“Ah… Did Jackie tell you about that?” Ingo piped up, his voice sounding strained. Jackie flinched, more or less confirming that he indeed had told you.

“Yes, he did. He told me quite a bit.” You spoke, pulling Jackie closer. The poor drone was beginning to shake, and you could hear his breathing picking up.

If it was possible, the tense air got thicker, becoming a bit hard to breathe. It was quiet, and you could probably hear a pin drop.

It was obvious the twins were not expecting this when they came into your room like they did every evening.

They also weren’t prepared for what you said next.

“If the offer is real and on the table, I would be inclined to accept.” You spoke, nearly causing both twins, and even Jackie to jump.

You weren’t expecting Emmet to rush up to you, and grab your hand in his own, his smile bright and dazzling.

“Oh, you mean it? You’d give it a try?” He asked, his wings buzzing behind him in a frenzy of excitement. Ingo was at his side in a flash, his face flushed. His own wings twitched in excitement at your words.

“Are you sure? You would be attempting to take the mantle of a Queen. We will handle business for the most part, but it could be difficult. Especially with, well…” Ingo spoke, his face growing with color as he avoided looking into your eyes.

“You’d be attempting to carry our eggs. A verrry important task, yup!” Emmet finished for him, seeming to have no shame about the how excited he was about you trying to do so.

Ingo sheepishly tubbed the back of his neck.

“Yes, what Emmet said.” He spoke, his voice a little more quiet, though the blush on his face seemed to grow a shade darker.

“Jackie informed me as such. I’ve gone over it all in my head, and, well…” you spoke, looking away. You really were agreeing to this, weren’t you?

You found you did not mind.

“I like it here. I’ve had more fun here the past two weeks or so, compared to the past few years in Nimbasa city,” you began, and fiddled with the sheets with your free hand before continuing, “You all are very kind, and I will admit, I find you all very… attractive.” You said, fighting back the blush crawling up your neck.

Emmet let out an excited giggle at your words, and seemed to shake in excitement. You swore you heard Ingo’s breathe catch. Jackie hugged you closer with one of his sets of arms, nuzzling into your chest.

“I’d like to at least try, and see if I can help. This will be a test of trial and error, I imagine. But… I’d still like to try.” You spoke, and squeezed one of Emmet’s hands that still held onto one of your own.

You ended up making a noise of surprise when you felt a weight press against you. Emmet had forgone holding your hand, and jumped forward, hugging you tightly. Jackie let out a small squawk as he was bumped a bit to your side, but still held onto you.

Ingo took Emmet’s place as you were nearly smothered from the hugs. His cool hands met your own, and gently held them while entwining a set of fingers with your own.

The older King gave you a soft look, and you swear your heart skipped a beat.

“Alright then. If this is the track you wish to depart on, we will gladly accompany you forward on it.” He spoke, and just from that sentence alone, you could tell he was excited. Even he seemed to be vibrating in place.

It was really sweet, and you couldn’t fight the blush growing on your face.

When was the last time you had felt so wanted? It was a bit sad that you couldn’t even remember…

After a few moments, you cleared your throat.

“Sorry but… would it be alright to move my stuff from my old home down here to the hive? I have some stuff that is sentimental-“ you began, and Emmet broke the hug, his face still beaming.

“Of course! We will help you move as soon as possible.” He assured you. You relaxed a bit, and gave him a soft smile. That was your main concern, getting your stuff.

“Also, I’ll need to tie up loose ends with everything in Nimbasa before I move here. Such as my job, and settling some things. I should be able to do that living here, but I’ll need to go up to the surface a few times until then.” You then explained. You didn’t want people thinking you were missing, and you had to cut ties with your job. Maybe settle some lawyer work, because you weren’t letting what they did go.

Especially since you wouldn’t need as much money now, living in the hive. Given how self sustaining it was, you doubted you would have to venture out to the city unless you were craving something specific.

Thankfully, both twins didn’t seem to mind.

“Of course! We will help make accommodations immediately! Whatever you need, we shall do our best to assist you!” Ingo spoke, his voice growing with that familiar loudness you had griwn fond of.

Emmet finally flew a ways away to give you some space, and Jackie quickly was back at your side, holding onto you tightly.

“One more thing…” you spoke, your voice having a twinge of uncertainty in it. Emmet perked up.

“Name it! Anything!”

You looked down at Jackie, and back at the twins.

“Are you sure this is fine with the hive? I… I don’t wish to upset any of the drones by becoming a Queen…”

Sure, most the drones you has met have been sweet, and have been excited to talk to you. However, you had no idea if they all felt that way. You didn’t want to start a riot or create unease by taking this position.

Ingo and Emmet shared a look, though it was one that didn’t set off alarm bells. They both gave you a pleased look.

“We can promise you, most of the hive adores you. Anyone that doesn’t will not say a word unless they feel it is absolutely necessary for the hive’s health.” Ingo told you.

You weren’t sure that made you feel entirely better, but if most the hive liked you, that put you at ease. You could at least agree to a drone putting in a complaint if they felt it was necessary. Last thing you wanted was for the bees to feel like they couldn’t talk about any problems they were having.

With a sigh, you nodded.

“That works for me.”

Emmet raised his hands with a cheer, cutely flying in a circle. Even Ingo seemed pleased, his wings buzzing ever so slightly.

Patiently, you waited for Emmet to calm down a bit, before speaking.

“So, what do I have to do?” You asked. Emmet’s grin grew widen, and you swore Ingo’s eyes sparkled.

Ingo walked up, and took your hand in his own. Bringing your knuckles to his lips, he gave them a brief kiss.

“Let us take care of you, My Queen.”

Emmet flew to your side, right next to Ingo. He lifted your chin up with a finger, having you look in his eyes.

“We will handle all the main work. While you…”

He leaned in close, and you felt like your heart was going to explode. His eyes were lidded, and his face morphed into a smirk.

“Relax and sit tight. We’ll feed you royal jelly. Make you our Queen. A perrrfect Queen to be our mate.”

His voice lowered as he spoke, and you swore it sounded like a purr. You couldn’t help but swallow thickly, and Emmet’s smirk only grew as his antennae twitched.

That’s also right. You’d become the hive’s mate, along with being their Queen. If what Jackie said was true, that would include all the things flowing through your mind.

It made you a little warm under the collar, and Emmet was clearly enjoying it. Especially now that he didn’t have to hide any interest if you were willing to be a Queen.

“Okay…” you spoke, your voice a bit small with how flustered you were becoming. If it was possible, Emmet’s grin only seemed to grow. His face leaned close to your own, but before his lips could meet yours, he was yanked away by Ingo.

“Behave.” Ingo told him, holding his twin by his collar.

“But-!”

Ingo tsk’d.

“They just agreed to be our Queen. Give them space and time to adjust!” He scolded, and Emmet pouted at the treatment. All it took was Ingo’s glare deepening, for Emmet to let out a sigh, smiling begrudgingly.

“Fine.”

He crossed his arms, and looked away. The moment Ingo let him go though, he quickly flew up to you before Ingo could catch him.

Faster than the blink of an eye, Emmet leaned in, kissing your cheek with a laugh. He didn’t stay, quickly jumping out of the way of a fumbling Ingo, who was desperately trying to catch him.

“Emmet-!”

The younger twin flew out of your room with a playful laugh, and left Ingo in his dust. The King sighed, rubbing his temples. Glancing at you, he gave you a warm look.

“Don’t worry, my dear. We’ll take care of everything.” He says softly, and moves over to you.

“May I…” he begins, seeming unsure. His face grows flushed as you look at him curiously.

“May you…?” You ask, wondering what he wants. He looks rather cute like this, you note.

Ingo straightens up, a more determined look on his face.

“May I… kiss you?” He asked, and you felt your face warm up. After a moment, you smiled.

“You may.”

Ingo gently grabbed your chin, tilting your face up so he had better access. Leaning down, his lips gently met your own, and you both easily melted into the kiss. Despite how rough his ‘skin’ was, his lips were incredibly soft against your own.

He didn’t stay like that for long, but even as he pulled away, you were left breathless all the same. Ingo looked incredibly pleased with himself, and gave you a smug, yet loving look.

“Just wait until Emmet learns I kissed you first.”

His words made you giggle, imagining the offended look Emmet no doubt will have when he learns of this.

Ingo then adjusted his uniform, and gave you a brisk nod.

“I need to go find him and discuss how much royal jelly to make. Worry not, we will be back in a while after coming up with a plan for you.” He explained, and began heading towards your door, a noticeable spring in his step. Before he closed the door behind him, he turned and looked back at you.

“I mean it when I say we will take care of you, my dear. Anything you need, we will take care of it for you.” He spoke, his voice soft. With another nod, he closed the door behind him.

Letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you brought a hand to your chest. Your heart was still beating wildly, even though everything had turned out fine.

Perhaps it was from excitement?

You were brought out of your thoughts when Jackie sat up, wings twitching as he looked over at you. He gave you a large smile, reminiscent of Emmet’s.

“Can I kiss you too?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, before leaning into to kiss him as well.

As your lips met Jackie’s, you were quite certain of a few things.

One, Jackie is a really good kisser.

And two, you were incredibly lucky.

Who knew that getting caved in the underground subway would be the best thing to happen to you?

It made you excited for the future going forward, and what you had to look forward to.

…You just hoped it would be a smooth transition, going forward.

[jammerskrik]

honestly I’ll never have a job as funny and wild as old 1950s cumbies. I think that’s probably the top silliest stupid job I’ve ever had. I had a coworker named kilfeather who was a late thirties obese literal fedora’d neckbeard, who unfailingly made the various (East Asian) women of Boston uncomfortable by being on brand to the point of addressing them as ‘M’lady,’ and split his time between manga and atheist reddit boards and masturbation. He gave his entire savings to The Occupy Movement, then rebuilt it only to then give it all to Bernie Sanders… he was Irish white trash from one of the most depressed towns in western mass, his parents were farmer-descended biker gang ppl that he dropped out of nineth grade to caretake once the cigarette genocide got them. He used to give me impassioned speeches about how the most important issue of our time is centering black and brown voices, and then, without fail, partially magic and partially because our boss was a black lady from Cali that hated most other African Americans, something beautiful and so fucking ironic and hilarious would happen.

Best was when we had to run down inventory to shut the gas station down around January 2019, our boss interrupted one of Kilfeather’s woke speeches about worshipping ppl darker than him to tell him to go clean out the little cup shed with me and Rokon, a banglandeshi indo-muzzy immigrant who at the time didn’t speak any English yet. Rokon began tossing all the spare foam coffee cup rolls out of the shed to me so I could bag them up, as Kilfeather waddled up through snowfall that was beginning to accumulate to watch us and, perhaps if the opportunity presented itself, resume his anti-racist speech.

About a minute later, Rokon had run out of cups and was suddenly madly pulling up endless flattened layers of shipping cardboard that had formed the flooring beneath the cup rolls, and I mean like decades of layers of flattened cardboard, the station was original from 1951 and the bottom decade or two had become dust and dirt. I stopped helping at my disgust threshold and just stood beside kilfeather in the snow watching R manically pry out every layer and heave it into a comically large pile as if his life depended on it until he suddenly froze. He stood there for a few moments, turned and looked at me n kilfeather, then smiled wide, disappearing into the small old shed like laughing, but a strange rare laugh to hear from a man like that; he squealed with absolute delight then vanished. Kilfeather looked at me like, what? does this mean??

But I didn’t get to reply because Rokon had emerged from the shed holding some kind of giant frozen tangled black disk about a meter in diameter. Kilfeather and I were both immediately instinctually repulsed though neither of us could really process what the disk was in that moment, as Rokon stood there dusted in snow and beaming… but we realised right as he spun around like a discus thrower, launching a massive frozen-solid City of Boston Real Life Rat King into Kilfeather’s face and chest.

There were two black crackheads from Kentucky who would stand outside the gas station like Jay and Silent Bob -style and by this point they were watching in the background, as was our boss. The Crackheads began heckling/roasting the fuck out of Kilfeather and calling him a faggot, and he let out a whine to our boss lady, to see if she could please make the addicts of colour stop calling him the f-slur. she was super Christian and super racist and she gracefully walked to Kilfeather through the snow and was like ‘well baby, I am worried that you never stand up for yourself, if Rokon hadda thrown that at me I wouldda whooped his ass to Death on the spot!’

idk cumbies was super funny

[silkendandelion]

My Own, Distant Home (Completed), A Fears to Fathom: Ironbark Lookout fanfiction

Chapter 2 (END), ao3 link

Jack Nelson x Connor Hawkins Words: 16.6k Genre: Horror, humor, smut

"Jack thinks him a good guy, Connor, despite what others probably thought. He wasn’t particularly friendly, a bit of a short fuse, but he took his job seriously, and didn’t forget to wish Jack well, even among his rush for a solution. Some people would call that dedication. Jack decided, as he tied his boot laces, that it was endearing."

Or

A romantic, creepy, canon-compliant retelling of the game's narrative where Jack and Connor are more fleshed out characters, and not immune to falling for a voice on the radio—until they aren't.

Rated Explicit for sexual content, strong language, horror elements, frightening imagery and descriptions of violence.

Cross-posted to ao3, same username, here.

Cheers to rarepairs, and to all the people who had a crush on Connor during the game: I have heard you. If you like Firewatch, or Do You Copy, check out fears to fathom, you could play the entire series in a day but I liked Ironbark the best. Even if you haven't played the game, I'm sure this can be read alone for people who like horror and making love in a thunderstorm 💙

Chapter 1 (Below)

It was only a transfer.

Not usually a big deal, this other park needed to fill a lookout position urgently, and Jack was probably the best suited for it. Not only because his coworkers spoke highly of him, but because he had the RV, and relocating was as easy as driving down the road. When you’re this free, no wife, no friends, no obligations, 2 hours is nothing to go to the next job.

Yeah, he thought as his eyes wandered off the road to the side mirror, the endless blacktop behind him, the empty road in front of him. No obligations. Free.

So why did driving up to the trail-head make his stomach ache?

He blamed it on his last meal in civilization for the time being: a perfectly greasy, buttery cheeseburger, no doubt made by a certified home-cooked chef with hairy arms. He wasn’t used to eating out, eating so much, and in hindsight, the large coke was a bit of an Icarus move.

Just a bit of indigestion, nothing to worry about.

Not at all related to his walk to the gas station next door for cigarettes that was interrupted by a creepy local. The one leaning against his car and mouth-harassing his own hamburger, gossiping cryptically about big foot and missing kids like he was a Stephen King minor character. Real “you wanna watch out for that road” stuff.

The same missing kids on the poster across from the gate office. Gone without a trace, with no more search parties willing to keep looking after they lost some of their own people to what witnesses called “strange whistling in the dark”. Anyone saner, smarter, might have gotten back in their RV and not looked back. But Jack loved nature, and liked his job. Until he heard this strange whistling for himself, he had bills to pay and a guy named Billy to see for check-in.

The light to the guard shack was on, the door unlocked as he turns the handle. Worn out and road-fatigued, his brain hardly lends him the advice he should have probably called out to see if anyone was inside. His eagerness earns him a twin-barrel to the face, and a rightfully earned yell from both of them.

“You scared the piss out of me!” The ranger scolded him, and Jack fired back—

“Do you shove a gun in the face of everyone who sneaks up on you? What if I was a camper?”

“You can’t be too careful out here. There’s bobcats, bears and—wait, you say you’re not a camper? What are you doing barging in here anyway?”

“I’m Jack Nelson… Your new hire? Tower 11?”

“Well,” the mustached man regarded him with suspicion beneath his black cowboy hat. “Tower 11 is empty, but I didn’t hear about any new hire. Give me a second.”

“Oh,” Jack refrains from saying anything nasty, regardless of his fatigue, and puts up a patient, half smile. “Sure. Take all the time you need.”

He wandered out of the shack, back to the billboard with the missing poster, only half-reading the posted copy of the trail map he already owned when Billy came back out.

“You’ve been vetted. Sorry about all that, I don’t check my email as often as I should. You must be tired from driving, I’ll just take a copy of your ID and get the gate open so you can start the hike up to the tower.”

Billy was gone for only a minute before he came back, enough time for Jack to get his duffel and lock the RV. He handed back his ID, and pushed open one of the arms of the gate.

“… Hey.” He called before Jack could get passed him.

“Tower 12 is your closest neighbor, call him if you need anything. And don’t—I mean, do NOT go out further than maybe a 1/4 mile north of your tower on foot. Got it?”

“Uh, sure?” Jack gapes at him, unprepared. “Why?”

“It’s dangerous out that way. You’ve got bears, bobcats, all sorts of stuff.”

“Right… Thanks again, Billy. Goodnight.” He waved, eager to make some distance between him and this newest creepy local, and start wearing down the trail to his tower.

Did everyone in this town take etiquette lessons from a paperback horror novels? They were at least in the same book club, which actually wouldn’t be weird for such a small, quiet place.

The walk to the tower is easy, if a little cold by the time he crosses the creek. Tower 11 sits up against a nearby radio spire, lit up red and guiding him to the foot of his home for the foreseeable future. He knows to gas up the generator and crank it before he starts up the long flights of stairs to the top, and the tower cabin, small but not cramped, is a welcome sight.

The sheets on the bed are clean, free of holes and smelling of cheap detergent (ocean breeze something, he guessed), and the good burn of a wood fire seems to be baked into the panel walls and secondhand furniture. All his needed tools are haphazardly scattered but identifiable at a glance, and the fridge, beginning to kick on, is filled with old, freezer burned food.

Not rotted, there’s no unpleasant smell besides stale, and the room is otherwise well-kept, but he can’t help feel that the last occupant left in a hurry. Beside the bed lay a pair of abandoned wool slippers, and those go in the trash too.

All he needs to do is lay out his blanket and pillow to call himself moved in, and getting a fire going is even faster. He’s tying off the trash, waiting for the microwave to finish heating up a cup of coffee, when his radio, boxy and cumbersome on the little desk, clicks to life.

Static greets him before another male voice, deeper than his own.

‘I saw the lights go on. You copy, new guy?’

“Yeah, hey. I’m Jack.” He squeezes the receiver on and off as he sits in the old, steel chair in front of the desk, wiping a bit of sweat from his brow with the back of his arm.

‘Connor, Tower 12. Your new neighbor, I guess.’

A beat of silence, and then a click. “Billy mentioned you, just not by name. Nice to meet you.”

He hears Connor hum into the receiver, distantly wondering if it was a sound of irritation at him or something Jack couldn’t see. ‘Well, you got a fire started, that’s good. It’s good to see Tower 11 alive again.’

With a pause, his voice was friendly again, like whatever he was worried about suddenly resolved itself. ‘Anyway, don’t let me keep you. Oh, and don’t forget to submit your report before you go to bed.’

Jack suppresses his yawn with a wince—half headache, half ready for bed, and clicks the receiver. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

‘Get some rest, new guy, don’t let the bed bugs bite. Over and out.’

“Over and out.”

The radio dims with no open connection, and Jack forgets his coffee in the microwave when he can’t manage to avoid dozing off in the chair.

A few hours pass, midnight rolls upon the park and an unintelligible static rouses him from his sleep. He wants to investigate, his instincts whispering to him that something was wrong, something lurking in the forest beyond his tower, but an ache in his lumbar and the pressure in his bladder leaves no room for anything except the urgency to get comfortable quick. He stretches until his back gives a satisfying crack, and with a quick leak off the railing of the tower, he falls into bed without another thought.

NIGHT 2

On nights like this, Jack can imagine being a lookout forever, nipped by the last throes of winter on a chilly wind yet cradled safely between the warmth bleeding out of his tower and the hot coffee in his hands. Perched up high, nearly brushing against the clouds, the sunset seems brighter than down on the trail, all melted pinks and oranges that don’t begin to betray how in less than an hour the forest will be all but black.

The static of his radio breaks the silence.

‘New guy, this is Connor from Tower 12. Do you copy?’

He drops his empty mug among the dirty dishes from dinner when Connor speaks again. ‘Tower 11, do you copy?’

“Tower 11, I copy. What’s up, Connor?” Jack answers before he eases himself into the desk chair.

‘Son of a bitch! Nobody bothers to get a camping permit anymore. Do you have eyes on the smoke north of your position? Looks like it’s off the Lacey Trail.’

“Give me a second, I’ll check.”

He grabs his binoculars, is almost out the door when Connor’s opening the line again. ‘I need you to confirm.’

“You can hang on, it won’t kill you,” says Jack to himself while peering off the railing. Exactly as Connor described it, north of his tower, and near enough to likely be off the Lacey trail—a closed area—he spies the telltale white smoke of a campfire.

‘Do you see that smoke up north?’, comes the radio again and Jack answers with what he hopes passes for patience.

“I see it.”

‘Shit. People like that don’t clean up after themselves either, and fire risks are high this season. Do you mind checking it out?’

“I’ll head up there, and report back anything I find.” He rises to get his coat and boots.

‘Stay safe out there, new guy. Don’t forget to carry your bear spray. Over and out.’

Jack thinks him a good guy, Connor, despite what others probably thought. He wasn’t particularly friendly, a bit of a short fuse, but he took his job seriously, and didn’t forget to wish Jack well, even among his rush for a solution. Some people would call that dedication. Jack decided, as he tied his boot laces, that it was endearing.

Lacey Trail was several miles away on foot, no matter how close the smoke had seemed in the binoculars, and he pocketed both his bear mace and his flashlight before leaving the tower.

~*~

Unseasonably cold air nips through his fleece jacket, fingers already red around the knuckles as he fumbles to zip himself up. The beam of the flashlight bobs about over the dark trail, “3.2 miles” the optimistic sign had declared back near his tower. Only, the longer he walked, surrounded only by the icy wind biting on his ears and a deafening chorus of insects, the more it felt like “ETA unknown”.

A campfire lights the path around a bend in the trail, a match flame at the end of the path.

Whatever he wanted to call out, “hello”, or “get lost”, was cut off by the unmistakable sound of a man’s scream.

He makes no attempt to call back, taking off in a sprint towards the glowing campsite. The campfire in the center of a couple picnic tables and a tent illuminates the entire clearing between the trees, fresh wood popping, what must have been tossed in only minutes ago. But the campsite is empty. The tent’s open flap reveals a rumpled sleeping bag, the tables are crowded with an oil lantern, a battery-powered radio, and heaps of fresh food—but completely empty.

“Hello? Where are you?” He shouts into the dark with no answer. On the side of the clearing closest to the creek, a closed gate and red sign read ‘No camping allowed’.

“Are you hurt? Where—oh!” Jack coughs out a startled grunt, nearly tripping into the dirt over what he discovers is an abandoned flashlight.

His blood chills, colder than the unseasonable weather. Beyond the cautionary signs, where the darkness swallows the unkempt trail, drifts up the sound of a whistle. A human whistle, devoid of any recognizable melody.

It’s all he can do to stagger back, swipe an empty dinner pot from the picnic table and douse the fire with cold water from the creek. He tosses an unseeing glance over his shoulder, and is hoofing it out of the campsite and up the trail before the campfire has even stopped sizzling.

The cold air stings his lungs as he runs most of the trail back, hot blood thrumming into his ears and all but drowning out the insects. Were he less panicked, he would have heard over the sound of his own breathing that the insects had actually stopped, startled to silence by the looming shape in the treeline.

~*~

The glow of his tower beckons him home, and he scrambles his faculties to remember to grab firewood before climbing the steps, as well as relieve himself in the portable toilet beside the stairs. With what he witnessed, too vivid to not want to trust his own eyes but too strange to possibly be real, he wasn’t sure he would have the nerve to walk back down before dawn.

His radio flashes with an open channel, presumably Tower 12, and he sits heavy down in the metal chair. “Tower 12, do you copy?”

Beats of silence remind him his blood has yet to warm up.

‘Loud and clear, new guy. Sorry for delay, I was just cooking up some hot—’ Connor pauses, too much like Jack did when he thought he was being boring.

‘Nevermind that. What did you find out there?’

“The campsite was abandoned. Not a soul around,” Jack said, pushing down his nausea and the phantom sound of an eerie whistle.

‘Are you—’ A loud clang in the receiver, like a fork dropped in a bowl. ‘Kidding me? Son of a bitch. People like them are part of the problem, and on top of everything they run off.’

Jack fingers the sleeve on his jacket, realizing suddenly he had been too worked up to shrug off his fleece or his boots when he came inside. “I put out the fire, but there’s nothing else we can do tonight.”

‘No no, I get it… Thanks for checking it out, Jack. Tomorrow morning, I’ll report it to the authorities and they can take care of it.’

The words are out of Jack’s mouth before he can scold himself for being frightened in front of someone else. “I heard a scream. Honestly, I feel kind of bad for not sticking around to look harder.”

‘A scream? Probably just a red fox, they sound almost like a screaming lady when the rest of the forest is buzzing.’

Jack clamps down on a protest that it was a man’s scream, clearly no fox, then Connor is speaking again.

‘This is the third time this month. Ever since those kid’s went missing, there’s all sorts of rumors about the area being haunted, and we just can’t keep people out. Well, maybe I could, but not from this tower. I’ve got a job to do.’

The whistle is back in his mind, as vivid as Connor’s voice over the radio but, again, Jack keeps that to himself.

‘Well.’ Connor breaks him from his thoughts. ‘I’ll let you get to dinner, or whatever it is you do after you log off. Goodnight. Over and out.’

“Goodnight, Connor.”

2:27AM

He can’t explain what wakes him.

Nothing immediately seems wrong but he can’t begin to trust his senses, not with the greasy film that smudged his eyes no matter how hard he blinked, the heaviness of his limbs, and a sluggish mind at the helm, ripped from the deepest parts of his sleep cycle.

But even blind, dumb, and lame—he knew he was being watched.

Weak hands scrubbed at his face, trying to clear the sleep, until the room came into some kind of focus. Moonlight drifted in the one open panel behind his computer desk, casting the upright shadow of a—

His heart all but stopped. He squinted, unbelieving, blinking more at the peculiar silhouette painted across his front door. Unclear if it was man or beast, the sloped shoulders suggested humanoid but the shape of the head, wide with points that could be horns or ears in the dark made him unable to do anything more than stare.

Struck by a sudden wave of courage, he leapt up from the bed, throwing the blanket aside without certainty his legs would support him, and dashed to the light switch.

The shadow vanished with the incandescent bulb over head, banished by the light but lending no evidence as to whether it was some paranormal, hungry entity vulnerable to light, or something more secular afraid to be caught. Jack didn’t know which was worse, and standing alone in the center of his floor, he could finally hear how fast his heart was racing.

Whether by insanity or curiosity, though they hardly seemed different from where he stood, one of his shaking hands grabbed his bear mace while the other went for the door. The abrupt quietness of the night lent him courage where it shouldn’t, and upon venturing outside he was horrified to realize he was truly, tragically alone.

Or he was now.

Against the railing, and almost disturbed by the bear mace that clattered to the ground, was a skull.

Goat, from what limited knowledge he had, flanked by a few, worn, lit candles, and smeared across the ivory forehead with a red symbol he refused to get closer to identify either it’s shape or composition. He resigned to shove the door shut, slamming the lock’s hammer in place with no regard for the bear mace he abandoned.

“Tower 12, come in.” He tries the radio receiver, met with static. “Tower 12, can you hear me?”

More static and another beat of silence makes his stomach ache. “Connor, I need you to wake up.”

He’s never been so happy to hear the quiet click of another radio opening the line.

‘Do you have any idea what time it is?’

“This is an emergency.”

‘Are you okay? What’s happened?’ Connor immediately sounds more awake, like he’s sat up straight.

“Someone’s been on my tower, I woke to—I heard footsteps, it woke me up.”

‘Are you kidding me?’ Less composed now, angry but not nearly as when he vented about the campers earlier that evening. Though it was easily explained by the remnants of sleep clinging to him.

“I think they’re gone now.”

‘Did you see what they looked like?’

Jack’s mind raced back to the shadow, the beastly silhouette, and the footsteps that seemed to vanish when they passed by his door.

“N-No, but they left a skull on my doorstep. An animal skull, goat or—something, with candles, what looked like blood. Sick shit, Connor, I don’t—know—”

‘Take a deep breath, new guy. Let’s think about this rationally. You went and investigated a fire tonight, right?’

“… Yeah.”

‘So we know there’s unregistered campers in the area who don’t care about rules or regulations, probably bratty kids or college students. Suppose they wanted to get back at the fire watcher who doused their evening, it wouldn’t be that far of a walk. It’s just kids, Jack, don’t let it bother you.’

“You—” He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “You’re right.”

‘Did you happen to get a photo of the thing?’

“I didn’t think about it.”

‘No shame in that. It’s all right to be riled up, but it’s not okay to panic. Lock your door, try to get some rest. Take a photo in the morning, and we can file a report with the authorities.’

But no sooner was Jack beginning to calm down, the hairs on the back of his neck began to rise, his stomach tightening with the idea that Connor was only coming to the conclusion of what limited information he had.

“Connor?”

Sleepier now, the other man’s voice came back a bothered rumble. ‘Yeah, Jack?’

“What if it’s related to the disappearances? At the campsite tonight, sure, it was empty but I heard… I heard whistling beyond the barriers for the closed trails. It’s a heck of a coincidence, don’t you think?”

For all his neighbor’s frustration at being woken so suddenly, there was no doubt that he was fully awake now, deliberately staying quiet on the other end of the line as Jack waited for any kind of answer.

‘New guy… You don’t believe all those rumors, do you?’

Behind his ribs, Jack’s heart is back to hammering. “Nah. No, I mean. You’re right, it’s gotta be kids.”

Connor didn’t seem convinced, even for a disembodied voice. ‘I’ll tell you what. I’ll send someone to check on you tomorrow. For now, try to get some sleep, new guy. There’s nothing we can do in the dark.’

“Yeah… Thanks. Of course.” He rakes his hand through his hair like if it might knock his anxiety loose. “Goodnight, Connor.”

‘Goodnight, Jack.’

~*~

The skull was gone when he awoke the next morning. Nothing ever came of the report, and for a short time, the forest was quiet.

He’s gotten quite used to this little routine: submit his report, have dinner, say goodnight to Connor, bed.

Check the weather, put dinner in the oven, submit his report while talking to Connor, bed.

So they continued for days, falling into the comfort of predictability and looking forward to their goodnight radio checks.

‘Honestly, I envy you a little bit,’ said Connor one night while Jack posted himself up beside the radio, blanket around his shoulders and holding a hot mug of coffee. Probably not the best idea before lights out, but the warmth in his core more than made up for what his little wood stove lacked in power.

“Envy me? Why?” Jack sipped quietly.

‘You’ve got the RV, you can literally just pick up and go wherever you want. Hell, you did it once already when you relocated out here.’

“It’s… lonelier than I like to admit.”

Down in his cup, Jack could see the undissolved granules of his coffee lying along the bottom. With a quick swish, they’re gone and Connor speaks again.

‘While Tower 11 was empty, I forgot how nice it was to have someone to talk to.’

“You must really be desperate if you’re enjoying my company that much.” Jack found himself smiling, a bittersweet thing.

‘I should be the one saying that to you. Every day I call you to vent about these fucking campers, leaving their trash and shit. And you answer for me every time.’

He chuckled, unaware Connor was also smiling on the other line. “It’s kind of my job.”

‘Ouch.’ They laughed together this time. ‘You’re not supposed to agree with me.’

“Then maybe you should be nicer to yourself.”

‘You first, Jack.’

A comfortable silence falls over both sides of the radio transmission, twin smiles and the warmth of more than quick and dirty coffee between them.

‘You still with me? Sounds like you’re about to go any minute now.’ Connor said, soft and slow. If Jack kept his eyes closed, he could have imagined he said those words beside his ear.

“I think that’s all I’ve got, Connor.” He scrubbed at his eyes. “You get some rest too. Goodnight.”

‘Night, Jack.’

BETWEEN 2 AND 3 AM

A hand over Jack’s mouth bolts him awake, his entire body tensing as he grabs at the arm that holds him.

“Shh! Shh, Jack. It’s me… Its Connor.” He hears a familiar voice somewhere above him, and the blonde man comes into focus as Jack blinks away the last of the sleep. Moonlight shines through the open paneling, illuminating the side of his handsome, worried face, the width of his broad shoulders in a thin t-shirt.

“There’s something outside.” He looks briefly to the window. “Scoot over, Jack.”

He hardly has time to obey, let alone time for rational thoughts like What’s outside? and How is us both getting under the blanket supposed to help? before the other man is climbing into the single bed and pressing against him from the shoulder down.

“What are you doing?” Jack half demands, half pleads.

“Shh.” Connor hushes him, and he wants to relent—almost does—under such dark eyes, close enough to see they were brown in the dim light. “We have to be quiet, or they’ll hear us.”

“Who will hear us? Connor? What’s happ—mmf! M-mm,” Jack moans, startled, when their lips meet, smooth and wet like Connor had licked them before he leaned in.

His belly twinges, toes curling from only a kiss, and he might have been embarrassed if it weren’t for the hot outline of an erection digging into his hip. Connor’s tongue tastes of instant coffee, no doubt he himself tastes like cigarettes, but Connor doesn’t seem bothered. Not with how hard he is and the firm grip of his palm on Jack’s ribs through his old shirt, the way his thumb flicks at his nipple with little regard for how it makes him shake.

Teeth rake his bottom lip when their kiss turns deeper, hungry, panting hot into each other’s mouths as they work together to yank their sleep pants down to their thighs. A whimper jumps up between them as Connor’s hand clasps around them both, and Jack realizes it must have been him because when his thumb slips in the pre leaking from his tip—he makes it again.

The hand retreats long enough for Connor to lick his palm, but Jack knows he’s getting wet enough for the both them, so long as those capable hands keep pulling needy noises from his lips, pulling on his cock like that. Just like that, just how he likes.

“They’re gonna hear you, baby, you gotta be—quiet,” Connor pants against his wet lips. Jack wants to kiss him back, needs it, but he can do little more than leave fervid little moans against his tongue, joined by the spit-slick sound of Connor’s hand, warm and tight around them.

“I’m—s-sorry, Connor,” Jack fusses when the tightness in his belly finds the next gear, and for all his warnings, Connor is doing nothing to help him make less noise when he leans down to suckle at the side of his neck.

“Come on, baby, you’re almost there. Say it again,” he whispers warmly into his shirt collar. The rumble of him speaks to control, all whiskey and smoke, but Jack can feel how the rhythm of his forearm waivers, how the leg he has threaded under Jack’s begins to shake.

“C-Connor, get something to—Connor—”

Jack’s eyes throw themselves open on a gasp when he wakes, startled from the dream by the warm wetness seeping into the front of his underwear. He tries to sit up as best he can but his stomach quivers, heart thumping, as wave after wave of pleasant ache widens the stain on his sleep pants and steals his breath.

“For fucks sake,” he sighs, letting his body flop back to the bed when the feeling in his hands returns.

Awareness follows right behind his mess, and he flips the blanket away to hopefully spare himself the further embarrassment of taking the damned thing to the laundromat. But, even that was better than doing a spot wash in the sink, and having to tell Connor it was an Italian food incident when he sees it draped over the railing to dry.

First his waking hours, now his dreams. Connor filled his mind with thoughts of normalcy, the lingering ache of loneliness, and the insane idea of enjoying another person’s company. Such a luxury eluded him most days, a comfort he hardly believed could be found in these ominous woods.

Between distracting daydreams, some salacious, some sweet, and his immersion in his work, he almost forgot to be afraid.

~*~

The days that follow are easy but hardly quiet, not with Jack’s brain torn and oscillating between the paranoia of the encroaching forest—and his growing crush on his neighbor. His heart struggled under the stress of peering over his shoulder in the dark woods at every broken twig, just to be riled again by his nightly check-in. He began to sympathize with the rabbit his sister had when they were kids, perfectly still for all their fervent affection, until their veterinarian explained it’s early health problems were stress-related: poor creature was unable to distinguish their childish, heavy-handed petting from the musings of a predator biding it’s time to feast.

People had already disappeared. How long did he have until he was eaten too? Swallowed by the woods until all that remained were the tenets of skeptics and a ghostly whistle.

He busied himself with maintaining the tower, hammering down loose boards and checking the horizon repeatedly until the sun was long gone and the eerie quiet had settled it’s blanket across the forest.

“24.4 knots…” He murmured to fill the silence, as a flare lights up the north. Before he can go for his binoculars, the radio flicks on with an unfamiliar man’s voice.

‘Hello? Is anyone there?’

“This is Tower 11.”

‘Oh! Oh, thank god.’ The voice, a young man, shaking and unsure, comes over the line. ‘I’m lost and—I’m really starting to freak out.’

“Take a deep breath,” said Jack, his free hand opening the trail map on his computer. “Can you tell me where you are?”

‘I don’t even know where to start. I went out exploring and lost track of time. Everything looks different at night. The uh, the last trail marker I saw was by a stream, but I couldn’t read it from where I was. I’m walking west because I remember walking east to get here but… I’m definitely lost.’

“What equipment do you have?”

The hiker ignored his question, excited to finally be somewhere familiar. ‘Oh, man. I found the fork in the trail. But, I don’t remember if I’m supposed to go right or left to get back to the trail-head.’

“I have a map, let me take a look.”

‘Thank you.’ He says, but only lets Jack look for a few seconds before trying again. ‘Hello? Are you still there?’

“One more second, it’s all right.”

‘Oh. Oh, I see you!’

Jack looks to the radio, shocked to silence while phantoms of a predator’s fingers slip up the back of his neck, loosing shivers in his warm tower.

“What? What do you see?”

‘I hear you. You’re whistling to me. I’m right here!’ The hiker shouts, surely waving his hands above his head to welcome the unknown danger, and Jack’s thumb nearly cracks the receiver.

“Hey, HEY! That’s not me, I’m—”

‘What do you mean? You’re starting to freak me out—’ The transmission ends early, no crackling, no screams. Only silence, save for Jack’s breathing, his pounding heart.

Fuck.

He shoves the desk chair away, jumping up to grab his flashlight, and was two hastened footsteps from the door when a knock startles him almost to shout. Whatever possessed him to wrench open the door without a second thought, he hoped a well-aimed flashlight is enough to take them down.

“The hell are you doing in there? I’ve been out here knocking for awhile.”

His heart jerks, relieved, having never thought Billy would be the cause. “S-sorry. Was helping a lost hiker.”

“At this hour? Lord have mercy,” he drawled, his perpetually rumpled mustache shifting across his troubled frown. “Anyway—here’s your supplies. Just the essentials.”

“Thanks.” Jack turned away to set the box on the counter, when Billy spoke again. “I hear you been a little stressed lately. Everything all right?”

He never considered himself a liar, but Jack liked to think he knew how to pretend well enough to avoid suspicion about most things. Especially in regards to his own well-being. The smile that slips over his face is practiced, appropriately tired for the time of night. “It’s taken me a little longer to adjust to the new environment than I thought, but I’m getting there. Thanks for asking.”

Address the question logically, formulate a response from a half-truth. Acknowledge their concern. Easy.

Billy is so willing to not push the subject, it’s almost too easy. “That’s the spirit. Well, I won’t keep you. Get some sleep, Jack. Don’t forget to submit your report.”

He leaves as fast as he can without falling down the stairs, and Jack is happy to clap the door shut behind him. In the back of his mind, routine called to him, rubbing on his shoulders and offering him a cigarette after an exhausting day.

“Firewood, dinner, Connor in bed—THEN bed. Firewood, dinner, talk to Connor, respectfully, professionally, finish my report. Then bed.” He waved the flashlight back and forth anxiously as he wandered down the stairs, single-handedly determined to not have anything scary happen for the rest of the night.

If only he hadn’t gone for firewood.

The pile in the shack isn’t dwindling as fast as he anticipated with the weather warming up, and he makes a mental note to skip chopping more wood tomorrow. He balances the wood under one arm, flashlight tottering in the other as he leaves the shack—straight into another man.

“AH—damn! You nearly gave me a heart attack,” he pants when the bald man in clean coveralls doesn’t immediately move to disembowel him.

“No need to be afraid, son… I’m a worker, here for some routine maintenance on the radio tower over there.” The man’s flat, almost drowsy cadence is anything but comforting, too close to Jack’s liking of what he imagined a wax figure or mannequin to sound like, speaking slowly and quietly to not arouse suspicion of their sentience.

“Thought I would say hi to the new guy everyone’s been talking about.”

“… What’s your name?” Jack said as his hands flexed on the firewood, itching to run.

“Names can be deceiving. Call me Silas.”

“Do you always work so late?”

“Every Sunday.” A strange thing to admit, rather than lie about being up on the mountain so late for something so menial. “Just trying to keep the communication lines open. We must ensure the right messages meet the right people, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Right,” Jack said without hesitation, though he doubted he and Silas were talking with the same subject in mind.

“Absolutely. You watch for fires, but some fires are meant to burn. And no amount of prevention can stop them.”

His fingernails ache from holding the firewood throughout their conversation, and he can feel his heart beginning to thump against his ribs. “… It’s late. I should be going back. Goodnight, Silas.”

“Nature has plans,” he called after him, the intonation of his voice carrying without having to shout: an orator’s calm, suffocating inflection. “Ones even you can’t control. It will be cleansed.”

Upstairs, Jack shoved the firewood into the stove, both to relieve his stinging arms and to burn away the creeping dread that prickles at the back of his skull. Something is wrong with these woods, wrong with the people, from the supervisor who seems to have had his tongue stapled to the roof of his mouth, to the radio repairmen who spouted doctrine with the affect of a puppeteered corpse.

When had the woods he found such comfort in become so grim, promising only death to those who didn’t know when to run?

‘I can see the smoke coming from your tower. Don’t tell me you’re not in there?’ Connor’s voice, unbothered and probably craving his evening small talk, laid a calm over the quickly warming cabin.

‘Jack? Come in, new guy.’

“Here, Connor.” He lowered himself into the metal chair, pulling his jacket over chilled fingers.

‘Finally. Where you been?’ If Jack concentrated hard enough, perhaps he could sponge his blissful ignorance, or at least pretend to take refuge in the wrap of his arms. He couldn’t remember the last time he hugged anyone besides his sister, and most recently was still months before he left for the middle of nowhere.

“I went downstairs for some firewood and ran into Silas.”

‘Who?’ He says, half-muffled like he’s sat at the radio with his dinner.

“The guy who maintains the radio tower. Creepy as hell, spoke in riddles—I don’t think I actually saw him blink.”

The silence over the channel lasts long enough Jack reaches to flip the receiver on and off, hands skimming the metal casing for any sign the call had been disconnected, then Connor scoffs with some one-sided realization.

‘Is this about the other night? Tryin’ to yank my chain?’

Jack has to bite down on his lip next to bleeding to not fire back “I am not nearly funny enough to yank anyone’s chain, and if I was going to pull on anything of yours it would be your—”

‘That radio tower’s been out of service for ages now.’

His heart drops into his stomach. When he doesn’t answer, Connor continues to explain as if Jack wasn’t reeling, two seconds from puking into the receiver. ‘It was closed down right after I got here because a lightning strike fried it’s systems. Mitch said he would get it fixed next time there was room in the budget, but—well, you know how that’s going.’

“Then who did I just talk to?!” Jack shouts, too frightened to be embarrassed for his volume, and only hoping it didn’t hurt Connor’s ears or break their speaker.

‘Easy, Jack,’ replies Connor, too cool for the pounding in his ears. ‘Hey, you’re okay. Listen to me. This isn’t our first run-in with pranksters, is it? They got you again, but that’s all they can do. They’re not gonna hurt you.’

“He called me Jack.”

‘He knew your name? Do you think he’s been listening?’

“I don’t know, maybe?” He ran his hands through his hair, hoping to dispel some of the compounding anxiety of an imminent death.

‘Either way, we need to report this. Next time you see him, get a photo or his ID and anything else we can use to identify him. We’ll figure it out, Jack. Don’t worry.’

“Thanks, Connor.” His hands scrub down his face, he can not keep up this pace of being frightened and then having to convince himself nothing’s wrong just to keep from running into the woods and not stopping until he sees the road.

‘Call me if you have a nightmare, all right? I’ll put you back to sleep.’

“You asshole.” He can’t help the chuckle that sputters from his suddenly warm chest, hearing Connor’s smile through his cheeky tone.

‘Got you to laugh, didn’t I?’

Jack’s face is hot, he knows he’s blushing hard, and he summons the strength to not say anything too embarrassing (like “come over”) with a shuddering sigh. “Goodnight, Connor. Thank you… for everything.”

‘So sentimental. I like that. Night, Jack.’

The line clicks closed before Jack can chase him through the line, demanding to know what he meant, why his voice had to drop into the register that made his stomach flutter before disappearing from the face of his very, very small world. His suffering sigh rattles from his chest.

“I need to go to sleep.”

2 DAYS LATER

If it rains any more, his tower might flood.

All day, all evening, Jack had spent the majority of the day watching the shower soak the forest, ignoring the chores he tended to avoid anyway, and drinking far too much instant coffee because it was his only alternative to water. Although, he did get the spray duster out from under the counter, just to say he did.

“Maybe I’ll ask Billy to put some teabags in my next resupply,” he said, pouring out the last of his cup into the sink and picking up his cigarettes to take with him outside.

The forest below should look half-drowned after drinking all day, but it only sways elegantly in the gentle wind, not strong enough to push rainwater over the railing where it might disturb his smoke break. Tower 12 stands in the distance over the treeline, the soft, golden lights in the window suggesting Connor was taking a lazy day too.

Was he reading a well-loved, dog-eared novel? Cooking something warm and spicy? Maybe he fell asleep, belly full of warm food and blanket curled around his legs as the novel slips forgotten to the floor. Down into a deep sleep, the kind of rest what leaves him too warm when he wakes, hair rumpled and shirt risen over his middle to bear birthmarks or a secret tattoo.

“Jack, come back to bed.”

“Ah,” he grunted, sudden static from the radio ripping him out of his daydream. He presses out his cigarette, kicking over the ash tray as he hurries to his feet.

“This is Tower 11.” Silently, he congratulated himself for sounding perfectly professional and not guilty in the slightest.

‘This—does it—damn.’ Connor’s voice over the radio is smothered with screeching electronic snow, laced with intermittent words of increasing urgency.

‘Can’t—need h—Jack—can you hear—’

He whipped around to the window. The lights of Tower 12 hadn’t dimmed, but the persistent static and ominous, disconnected message chilled his blood. He gave no further thought to logical explanations, common sense could hike up the mountain with him if it really cared that much—and ran from the tower without changing his jacket to something waterproof and only his flashlight to protect them.

Above him, the rain pounds down harder, deafening as it pushed through the treeline to soak him, splattering over his trousers with every puddle he stomped across to get to Tower 12 as soon as he was physically capable, or sooner, even if it wounded him.

He reached the bottom of the tower not long after nightfall, expecting to be met with some sign of a struggle, but found nothing. Apart from the generator flashing a yellow warning light and the stack of firewood down nearly to nothing, there was no ripped grass, no gashes in the mud to suggest there had been anything unsavory in the woods that night. He tore up the metal steps anyway, two at a time, not convinced and not bothering to knock before he threw open the door—

And found Connor at the sink, half-dressed, the last dregs of shaving cream on his cheeks in thin stripes, steaming rag in hand.

He just stared at him.

Jack stared back.

“Can I help you?” Connor broke the silence, wiping his face clean and grabbing the henley draped over the back of his chair.

“You’re alive.”

“Jack?” He gaped at him, blonde head popping from his shirt’s neck hole to piece together the voice he knew with the grainy, black and white photo he had glimpsed on the staff directory website.

“Yeah that’s… that’s me.” Jack’s voice muddled down to a tiny murmur as the embarrassment threatened to melt him into two humiliated puddles inside his boots.

He really ran here, never-mind the several miles, ran here in the rain, dragging in water and mud like he was going to self-promote from fire lookout to ghost-buster with just a flashlight and some home-grown, grass-fed nerve. Death would have been kinder, he thought.

“God, you’re soaked. Here.” The towel that flies across the room to slap gently against his face smells like their cheap, provided laundry soap, with a thin vein of cologne, sharp and clean, a smell Jack suspected was baked into most everything fabric Connor owned.

“Sorry about your floor.”

“If I actually cared, I’d make you clean it,” Connor smirked at him, rummaging through his open duffel on the counter to hand over a sweater, boxers, and a pair of sweatpants of the same brand as the ones he wore himself. “Put these on, I’ll hang up your clothes by the stove.”

Jack changed obediently, careful not to spread his mess any further than his little corner by the door, and sheepishly offered his wet clothes for Connor to thread over hangers.

“You’re a mess.”

He thought to protest, finding he could only continue to rub the towel over his hair, a little like a nervous tick. “Feels like it.”

“So. You gonna tell me why you tore across the mountainside and threw yourself into my lap half-drowned?” Connor said as he leaned against the counter, arms—nice arms—focus Jack—crossed over his chest. But, for all his posture and words that spoke to some degree of scolding, he could only find warmth in his gaze, patient enough to hear every word of his reply with grace and an open mind.

“The radio…”

“The radio?” Connor went to flip it on, demonstrate how it crackled and sputtered before coming online, green light ready.

“My generator started giving me crap a couple hours ago, I thought the power surge might have killed it so I tried to call you. You didn’t answer, I thought you just couldn’t hear me.”

The embarrassment releases him in an instant, he’s suddenly back where he had been an hour ago, disoriented and tearing down the trail. “It was terrifying, you sounded like—you weren’t making sense from the words that did get through. I didn’t know if you were being murdered up here and calling for help.”

He scoffs, then turns away from him, towards the window. “Is this about the missing campers again? Because I’m not willing to entertain all of your theories right now, all right—”

“I was worried, Connor. Scared the shit out of me.” His words left him in a rush, hanging between them, the only sound among the hum of the fridge against the wall.

“… You came all the way up here—in a storm—because you were worried?”

Jack couldn’t bear to look up to see the extent of the confusion he heard in his voice. “It’s—just a shower, really. It’ll stop soon and I’ll get out of your way,” he mumbled and rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Weatherman says it’s gonna get bad. You should stay.”

The timber of his voice, softer, almost nervous, had Jack raising his head to meet his eyes.

“I’d like you to stay.” He offered, and the nervousness turned out to be more uncertainty, testing a boundary he wasn’t sure would welcome him on the other side. “I’ll feed you. There’s soup, a couple beers left in my stash. What do you say?”

Jack’s hands tightened in the damp towel, suddenly he struggled to breathe.

“I’d like that.”

Chapter 2 (END)

[vulturereyy]

In your Lurimol head cannon, what is Lurien's relationship with the other 4 Great Knights after he and Hegemol get together? Do they interact more? Or is he just on their peripheral as an important member of the court who also happens to be important to Hegemol?

I can imagine if they didn't pay much attention to Lurien before, that at least Ogrim and Isma would check on him every once in a while after Hegemol succumbed to the infection.

HOOOOOGH thank you so much for this ask because holy shit I think so much about the other knights even if I don't post, and this answer is going to Hurt Me in the most bittersweet way. This is going to be a long one, because I feel like there's a lot of context in my 'canon' that influences how these questions can get answered.

To set the stage first and foremost: In my timeline, Ze'mer is the only one who knows about Lurien and Hegemol's relationship up until the very tail end of it. Ze'mer is the closest to Hegemol out of all the knights, as in my timeline she was the second to join the Pale King's service. Hegemol was responsible for getting her settled in the kingdom, and the two developed a mutually close bond that culminated in them both essentially considering themselves kindred. Hegemol, likewise, is the only one who knows about Ze'mer's relationship with the Traitor Lord's Daughter for a while, though Ze'mer does eventually tell Isma as well.

Lurien's relationship with the remaining Great Knights is cordial and friendly, though I feel he would be hesitant to call any of them friends. The man is quite private, and guards his sense of trust like a hound wounded. He is far from unfriendly towards them, and does trust them with his protection if needed, but does not let them into his personal life. He would have been closest to Ogrim and Isma next given their proximity to the city, though I feel he would have had a high preference for dealing with the latter of the two. This may be a lackluster answer, but I do feel like he would have been far more coworkers with the other four than anyone else. Hegemol and Lurien kept their relationship extremely private, and for good reason:

Both agreed it was an extreme conflict of interest.

Both agreed that they would have to make sure it was not.

Hallownest would always have to come first for the two of them. Hallownest would always have to be the first choice in any decision, without hesitation. That was their duty, after all: to serve their kingdom. The moment they faltered from that path, in their minds, they would have to take measures to ensure that another misstep would not happen again.

The reason that Hegemol and Lurien never let themselves be seen together, never let themselves have a single date in public. They never even let themselves even truly label their own relationship mutually (even though the words 'I love you' were writ in every single cup of tea shared, every single night spent listening to the rain, every single extra hour lain in bed if only to get some more rest beside each other).

The Watcher and his Knight loved Hallownest above all else. Even as they cultivated a small sliver of rebellion together in the form of gentle touches behind velvet curtains, and whispered dates in shops long since closed for the day. They had to love Hallownest above all else, as that was their duty. That was their purpose. That was who they had sworn fealty to. Not the King, not the Lady, but the protection of their Kingdom.

Which is what makes the reveal of their relationship so painfully bitter, when that sense of duty was stripped from anything the Pale King revealed about them.

Hegemol was the most outspoken of the Five against the vessel plan. He was born and raised in a loving family, who ingrained in him from a very young age that all life is precious, and the right to a mind was not only intrinsic, but could be instilled over time. Hegemol was born before Hallownest, before the Pale King granted bugs higher minds. I fully believe there were still some small societies (as evidenced by the fact other bugs can go beyond the kingdom and still be mentally able to hold meaningful social bonds). Hegemol grew up watching bugs that were far more instinctual 'beasts' become more worldly with the gift of masks and the ability to focus themselves. For those reasons alone (there are others, but for simplicity's sake because I know I'm rambling), he voiced active opposition to the plan.

The Pale King, meanwhile, has the gift of foresight. In my canon, he knows that the vessel plan and the Hollow Knight is the only way Hallownest survives, even if it is... In shambles. He does not have the time to consistently defend himself against Hegemol, as much as he (very secretly) applauds his knight's sense of will that he would go against him like this. Hegemol is a testament to the Pale King's triumph through instilling such emotion in a former kingdom of beasts... But now, that mind could spell the downfall of Hallownest.

PK is no fool (at least in this instance). He knows the reputation Hegemol has garnered, especially among his fellow knights, is very well founded. He knows that they look to him for guidance, for example, as a revered older brother who is far, far closer to them than he, as king, would ever be. PK knows keenly the doubts in his judgement that Hegemol has sown into the other's minds, and it's for this reason that he has to nip them at their source.

(My PK has a LOT of mixed feelings about this. This is NOT an easy thing for him to do. But because I also plan to explore this as a main focus in my fic, I want to save all of that struggle and strife for WCWTD ;) )

The way that the other knights (sans Ze'mer) find out about Lurien and Hegemol's relationship is through the Pale King holding it up as leverage to discredit Hegemol's judgement. He uses it as a way to wither away any of the questions the knights had growing on their mind; because to them, this came as a shock. If Hegemol had hid his relationship from them... Then what their king says about it clouding his judgement may have been true. That he was fighting fang and claw against the plan because he did not want to lose his secret lover. This distrust does not happen quickly, but it does come to fruition. Especially when Hegemol succumbs further to the infection and is rendered unable to continue his protests. PK turns their opinions against him, despite how much he and Lurien worked, mutually, to avoid such a fate. And it. Hurts.

To answer your last question, I think Lurien would have isolated himself further after Hegemol's death. I think he would have been gutted not only by the loss of his beloved, but by the betrayal of his king that had to go alongside it. The night of Hegemol's death and PK's plot coming to light is the first and only time Lurien has ever uttered the words 'Hallownest be damned', alone and grieving in his tower. I think he would have refused to see Isma and Ogrim personally, though they would try to at least ensure through conversations with Aedmond, Lurien's butler, that he was still doing... Well enough. Of all the knights, with Hegemol gone, I think Ze'mer would be the only one he would ever allow to step foot in his tower after this, knowing that she and Hegemol were close, and she was likely the only one who admitted to him that she had lost faith in the king, but could see no other way to save Hallownest. And even then, the only time she visited would be to offer him a private trip to Hegemol's grave in the Howling Cliffs, and to leave him with a flower. One to match the bloom she buried alongside her best friend.

Lurien would never take her up on this offer before he became a Dreamer, knowing himself too well that he would have refused to go through the plan if he had to dwell on what transpired any longer.

Eternal sleep was likely a welcome relief for the Watcher.

[ave09]

i promise

gk!harvey dent x reader

note: i’m so excited for y’all to read this! i don’t know how the two-face reveal will actual go, but this is my interpretation!

you hadn’t heard from harvey in weeks. 

you’d called, texted, emailed, you’d done practically everything to get in contact with him, and yet had heard nothing back. 

you couldn’t remember the exact date or time, all you remember is that it was just an hour before his appointment with the physiatrist, because despite ‘harvey’s warning’, you were determined to have his condition checked out. 

you were in the car, heading toward the clinic where harvey said he’d meet you when he called you up.

“harvey? i was just getting ready to head to the clinic-“

“honey, listen, i don’t have much time.” he spoke quickly, softly, as though he was hidden and didn’t want to be found. 

“harv? what-“

“i’m going away for a bit.” 

a gasp slipped past your lips, “what?? going away?? i don’t understand-“

“i can’t say. think of it like a business trip. i’ll be back soon.” there was a loud ruckus on the other end, panick struck you, “harvey, please, tell me what’s going on.”

“i love you so much. more than you could even imagine.”

“i-“

the line went dead. your breath came out in quick hyperventilated pants. what the hell was he doing? what was that noise? what was happening??

and as panicked as you were, he was your husband. you had to trust him. 

so that’s what you did. 

and you hadn’t heard from him since.

at week two, you decided to go to the GPD, to report a missing persons. but, apparently, harvey had taken leave, reportedly for almost a month. 

and there was nothing you could do. 

weeks flew by, and your worry only increased. your friends, coworkers, they’d stop by with gifts and kind words. but nothing helped. all you wanted was your husband back.

it was past midnight, and you could not sleep, not without him by your side. nightmares plagued your mind to the point that you’d barely been getting sleep at night. and it had taken its toll.

just as you were about to get up and find something to occupy yourself, your phone rang. you let out a soft sigh as you rolled across the king sized bed to your nightstand, the sound only growing louder. 

it was an unknown number, but you answered anyway. you’d given out your number at the GPD so if anyone had any clue where your husband was, they could give you a call.

“hello?” you answered, your voice groggy with sleep. 

“honey?” 

you froze, tears welling up in your eyes. you knew that voice anywhere. “harvey?” you whispered softly, your voice cracking slightly. 

“it’s me.” 

“oh my god,” you sobbed, unable to contain your emotion as a wave of relief washed over you. 

he was okay. he was alive.

“don’t cry, darling, please don’t.” 

“i’m just so happy you’re okay… where are you?” 

“um, about that-“

“harvey, i need to see you.” you said, desperation lacing your voice. there was a sigh on the other end, then silence. 

“harv..?” you questioned, “are you still there?” 

“i’m sending you a pin. you can meet me there.” 

“okay. i love you.”

“i love you too. i’ll see you soon.”

you had never driven faster in your entire life. the location was practically in the middle of nowhere, near one of gotham’s old rundown buildings. 

what he was doing here? you had no clue. 

you now stood in the middle of an abandoned alley, shivering from the cold. this was exactly where harvey had dropped the pin. he was supposed to be here. 

a startling sound of footsteps caused you to whip around to see a figure standing in the darkness of the alley. 

“you came.” his voice was gentle, almost as though he was surprised by her arrival. 

a small smile spread across your lips, “you called.” 

having him here before you made your heart swell. you had missed him so, and he’d finally returned to you. 

you took a few steps forward, only to see harvey stumble back slightly. this confused you. you had also begun to notice that when he’d spoken to you, he’d only kept one side of his face turned toward you. 

“harvey. come here.” you said, your voice stern. but your husband remained still. so with a sigh, you marched toward him, and now that he was near the dead end of the alleyway, he had nowhere to go.

as you neared, you noticed his face seemed different. and when you saw him fully, a gasp ripped from your throat.

the right side of his face was burned, the melted flesh a mixture of pink and purple. the right side of his lip was gone, leaving only his teeth bared. but what hurt the most, was seeing that his right eye, which used to be a vibrant blue, was now a milky white. 

you choked back a sob as you lifted a hand to the scared side of his face, gently placing it upon the deformed cheek. 

“oh beautiful..” you whispered, blinking back tears. the man scoffed but did not shudder at your touch, “how? how can you call me such a name when i look like this..”

you furrowed your brows, “what?”

“i was afraid to meet with you. i was afraid how you would react, i was.. i was afraid that you couldn’t find it in yourself to love…” he raised a hand, gesturing to his face, “this.” 

a soft smile tugged at your lips, “harvey, i did not fall in love with you because of your looks.” you let your hand fall from his cheek and move to rest upon his chest, where you could feel the thump, thump, thump, of his heart. 

“i fell in love with this. with your heart. i will have you, harvey dent, with a face or not.” 

harvey let out a soft chuckle as you continued, “and i will always be here for you. and this, we will get through this together.” 

you could see a single tear slip down the left side of his face, “you promise?”

you leaned forward, pecking your lips gently against what was left of his, sealing the deal. “yes. i promise.”

[iamthekaijuking]

Gigabash character overview: RAWA

While Passion Republic Games primarily took inspiration from Ultraman when making Gigabash, it would be remiss to make a kaiju setting without its own Godzilla, and indeed no kaiju setting is worth its salt without one. And brother, Passion Republic Games delivered.

The song used is Area 51 S-class, which would become one of my favorite songs ever. Also if you haven’t already listen to the Gigabash soundtrack, it’s great and funky.

My favorite character in the roster and my main. In comparison to Thundatross, Rawa is the lightning bruiser of the roster. His attacks are slow but hard hitting and he has decent combo potential. Rawa has a powerful charge attack, a breath attack that can extend his time in the air, and an “atomic pulse” with superarmor for sticky situations. This attack in particular can be charged, but be careful with this as the charged version sacrifices one of your health bars.

Design

Being the Notzilla and destruction deity of the setting, Rawa takes obvious inspiration from godzilla, but also some Ultraman reference as to be expected of PRG. Ultraman Belial was a surprising source of inspiration. Rawa also reminds me of Natsunomeryu, although this might not be intentional.

The biggest source of inspiration though was the Phaya Naga, a dragon in southeastern Asian mythology and religion. Different countries and cultures have different versions of the Naga ranging from a snake person, to a multi headed cobra, to a more traditional looking eastern dragon. Rawa specifically takes inspiration from the Malaysian and Thai versions, and it’s pretty obvious given his giant horn, golden plating, and large canines. One of Rawa’s skins is named after the country Napal, and I actually have a coworker who grew up there. It was pretty fun talking to him about his country’s version of the Naga in preparation for this overview! I learned that in Napal, Naga are worshiped as god-like figures, and that to disrespect them or even dirty their shrine can bring bad luck and bodily injury such as swelling and rashes.

Just like his inspiration, Rawa is worshipped and treated with reverence. His worshipers even fashioned him gold rings to wear on his canines!

Here’s some concept art.

Rawa also kinda reminds me of the notzillas made by many people on deviantart back in the early 2010’s when people were starved for kaiju content and were making their own.

Lore

As you figured out by now, Rawa is the infamous “dragon king” mentioned in Skorak and Rohanna’s overviews, and so I think it’s time I paint a complete picture of what happened on Tarabak island.

Long ago the natives of Tarabak island lived in fear. They were constantly under threat of kaiju, until one day a great serpentine dragon appeared and defeated every monster with his overwhelming might and burned them away with his ethereal flames (which aren’t actually composed of fire or generate heat, Rawa’s flames are made of Giga Energy and instead of burning things they rip stuff apart on a molecular level). Under his protection they were safe, and were finally able to settle down and create a grand city.

However, Rawa’s protection came at a cost. He demanded to be treated lavishly and have access to Giga Energy 24/7, so his worshippers had to make giant pyramids in his image that channeled Giga Energy and stored it (that’s why the pyramids in one of the Tarabak arenas sometimes make giant Giga Energy orbs). This wasn’t enough though, and so every year the citizens of Tarabak would gather to provide offerings called “Violet Elixirs”. These were a drink made using Giga Crystals, and people had to mine deep within the earth to harvest them. Years of exposure often left people with purple ring marks on their skin (this is the only side effect of contact with Giga Energy on humans that we know of, and it’s unknown if this is actually a medical condition that needs treatment or if this just means people have tie-dye hands). If this elixir was made in poor quality or if Rawa didn’t like it, then he would burn you alive. If he did like it though then you were allowed to take one of the golden scales Rawa shed.

The most ardent of Rawa’s followers didn’t mind that and viewed death as a gift, but others were obviously not jazzed about the prospect of being killed every year because a big garish lizard didn’t like your radioactive grape juice. What was worse is that the aristocrats started weaponizing Rawa against anyone they didn’t like, so any form of protest was flattened underfoot. This reached a breaking point and almost a century after the founding of the civilization of Tarabak, the people who would eventually become the Eyes of Skorak performed their dark ritual that summoned the eggs of the parasitoid slug. They then put the eggs into their Violet Elixirs, fed them to Rawa, and eventually Skorak ate him from the inside out and took his skull as a shell.

Some people decided to follow this new kaiju and became the Eyes of Skorak, while others fled into Rohanna’s territory and came to worship her. But a third group of people stayed. Unflinchingly loyal to the dragon, they gathered his horn, dead body, and as much Violet Elixir as they could and revived Rawa. This and the fact that flesh still clings to his skull and can still generate ethereal flames after all this time on Skorak’s back indicates that in the universe of Gigabash, kaiju can eventually regenerate from mortal wounds and their cells can potentially live independently and indefinitely so long as they have access to Giga Energy.

Rawa’s new revived form isn’t long and serpentine like it used to be and is now stumpy and sorta dinosaurian, and he’s still trying to gain enough power to reach his original form. This technically also makes Rawa a dracolich.

In the in universe book The Lost World of Tarabak, Petyr’s crew comes across the followers of Rawa last before leaving the island. They still roughly maintain their habitats from their fallen civilization, even keeping their legislative system. They wear gold and some of them even spoke English. Doug, being a member of the Eyes of Skorak, became a slave working in the mines digging for Giga Crystals, the rest of Petyr’s crew were free to leave the island on the condition that they spread word of the return of Rawa, which worked out pretty well since Petyr recorded everything that happened in his book. The captain of their ship never left with them though as he stole a gold trinket, and so he was forced to give Rawa a Violet Elixir before being burnt away. The followers of Rawa know that the dragon hates dishonesty.

To wrap this up: I love Rawa. Rawa is my favorite, and I like talking about him. In fact this entire series of overviews was partly an excuse to talk about him. If you ever face me playing as Rawa then you better beg for mercy.