#overgrown baby looking motherfucker

[mad-prophet-of-the-airwaves]

I'm not sure if it's just me or not, but "Blink Twice" has one of the most random casts I've ever seen.

[frudoo]

A non Zombie apocalypse 141 poly

They find another survivor looking for supplies and decide to make her their wife.

I went a lil crazy on this one ngl

Warnings: Non-con/dub-con but nothing sexual. Fem!Reader.

It was that colossal motherfucker you saw first—the one you almost wasted an arrow on because of that creepy skull mask he wore. The big bastard was raiding your shelter, a little storage room in what used to be a department store. Believe it or not, the mannequins you placed outside of your hideout were enough to deter the zombies away, so you had a pretty good thing going. That was before this dumb brute decided to ruin all your hard work and steal your canned goods.

     Your plan was to shoo him away and tell him to piss off, but he wasn’t having it. No, instead, he made you carry your own supplies back to his shelter, where there were three other men to feed. Fuck, you had enough food to last yourself about three months, but now, with these giant men who no doubt have massive appetites? You’re lucky if it’ll last a week. 

     You’re sitting on a raggedy couch between the pretty man with the ball cap and another with a stupid overgrown mohawk now, arms crossed with a foul look on your face. Across from you sits the fucker with the skull mask, and beside him in an ancient recliner is a bearded man wearing a weird hat. Every now and then you let out an annoyed huff, earning yourself a pointed stare from each of them.

     “Are ye gonna eat summat, or jus’ pout like a wee baby?” Mohawk Man asks you through a mouthful of lukewarm spaghetti hoops. 

     You flip him off without even looking at him, earning a few snickers from the other men. If you weren’t so pissed off at all of them, you might have allowed yourself a little smirk. In fact, you feel the beginning of one curling at the corner of your mouth, until Ball Cap™ pulls you into his lap and traps you there with his strong arms. You yelp and try to shimmy out of his grasp to no avail. You go to bite him, but the second your mouth opens, a spoonful of beans gets plopped inside.

     “Swallow,” Skull Guy commands, covering your mouth with one wide palm in case you decide to try and spit it out.

     You glare at him the entire time, but still obey his explicit order because you truly are hungry. You give up on trying to escape the pretty man’s grasp, letting your body go limp. It’s probably wise to save your energy, anyway.

     “Good bird,” he praises mockingly. “Now, since you’re through bein’ a brat, I’ll introduce everyone. 

     “M’Simon. Tha’ there,” he points at the one with the mutton chops, “is John, or Cap’n, dependin’ on his mood. Beside you’s Johnny, but we call him Soap. The one you’re sittin’ on is Kyle. We call him Gaz when he’s bein’ a dick, though.” 

     You nod like you’re paying attention, using his distraction as an opportunity to steal the can of beans from his hand. It’s a weird group, for sure, but aside from the fact that they’re thieving bastards, it might be nice to have more humans to help protect you from the hoards of the undead. It’s a step up from mannequins, anyway. Perhaps it also helps that they’re all insanely attractive.

     “Wha’ aboot ye, hen? Go’ a name?” Mohawk Man—or, Johnny, apparently—asks with a cheeky grin. 

     Before you get the chance to tell him your name, the one with the mutton chops, John, interrupts you. 

     “No matter, is it? We’ll call her our wife soon enough.”

     You nearly drop the can of beans when you process the words that just came out of his mouth, choking on the bite you just took. Kyle pats your back until your little coughing fit ceases, and Simon wipes the sticky residue from your mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie. None of them, you observe, are as baffled by John’s statement as you are. It makes a weird feeling churn in your gut.

     “A-all… all of you?” You stammer nervously, then start again with a lilt of confusion in your voice. “Wife?!”

     “Yes, dove, all of us,” Kyle confirms, confiscating the can of beans from you and setting it on the ground. 

     “Aw, don’t look so scared, sweetheart,” John stands from his place in the old recliner, stepping in front of you and lifting your head up to look at him with his pointer finger hooked beneath your chin.

     “I take good care o’my men. We’ll take good care o’you, too.”

[marveloustimestwo]

So my teeth hurts for some reason and I can't stop thinking about what if the reader in platonic yandere vampire nat au after turning their teeth starts to hurt like baby's teeth when they start to grow and instead of teeth with reader it's fangs lol I want to request your headcanon on it and how will nay handle reader when she is grumpy and in pain literally ALL the time

Sorry about your teeth, Noni. Hopefully, they've gotten better by now. Thanks for sending something in!

Warning: Yandere themes, infantilization, mentions of kidnapping and being turned against your will, and kinda body horror? Reader's growing her teeth in and there's some description of it, though not too graphic.

Nat already truly believes that you're her child. Like, you're just an overgrown child to her, especially with how angry you can be.

After turning you, there were things she expected to happen. Now, you truly were just a newborn to her. You would be so curious about how everything worked.

The immortality, the new speed, strength, and agility that would have you stumbling and breaking things like a fawn learning how to walk.

She would never explicitly tell you, but she finds it very funny and cute. The fact that you can see her hiding smiles and stifling her giggles, however, is enough to make you a bit irritated.

Since she's been alive so long, though, there are some things Natasha has simply forgotten about.

The first and most obvious thing was the growth of your fangs.

In this universe, I'd like to think that vampires have retractable fangs to make them look more human, and therefore more friendly and better predators.

So you can imagine the pain of having four entirely new teeth grow in, while also having them grow in alongside the already existing teeth.

You'd be miserable constantly, always in pain because of these stupid ass teeth that you probably didn't even expect/want, and then you see the motherfucker that gave you these teeth trying to hide a smile.

Yeah, I'd be pissed.

It doesn't help that Natasha will not take your anger seriously. This is just another thing proving to her that you're her baby, her little cutie.

You're just lashing out because of the pain. It's expected, all children go through this.

It's totally not also because you might've been turned against your will, or you might've been kidnapped and held against your will. It's totally not because she's being really (both intentionally and unintentionally) condescending.

Yeah, it's absolutely just because of the pain and not anything else.

But don't worry, the pain will stop soon. Your teeth will grow in and then you'll finally be ready for the next stage of your very long life.

[final-girl96]

Firefly Chapter Sixty-Two

Yn

Ellie and I eventually made it all the way across this shitty ass town. We had to take out eight guys to get here, which wasn't too hard with this whout-out going on. We found a window to crawl through that went into some restaurant. There were lights on in here and it was warm. Ellie and I had no jackets on so being in the warmth felt amazing, but that was short lived. When we got to the front door Dave walked through it.

I pushed Ellie behind me as we walked backwards. “You know you leave a trail,” David said. “Go fuck yourself!” Ellie yelled behind me. After that shit was a blur. Ellie and I were separated, there was a fire burning near the front doors, which David locked. Speaking if that asshole, he was hunting us down inside this restaurant. I saw Ellie run back out into the dining area from where I was in the kitchen. David was closing in on me so I had to move. Minutes later I heard him scream out in pain and swear. Then I heard Ellie yelling.

I ran rowards the dining room from the back office to find David onto of Ellie, she was trying to reach the machete he had dropped. “You motherfucker! Get off her!” I screamed, running and wrapping my arms around hisnl neck to pull him away from her. He had his hand on his belt, trying to undo it. “You sick fuck!” I wrestled with him, straddling his waist And started to punch him until he got the upper hand. He flipped us over, trapping me beneath him, bringing his fist down across my jaw. Then he slammed my head against the floor. “I'll come back to you once I'm finished with Ellie over there.”

I was so disoriented and dizzy that I couldn't move. I tried to get up but would just fall back down. I could hear Ellie crying and that broke my heart. It pissed me off too. I flipped onto my stomach and tried crawling to her but my vision started to blur, the edges going black. The last thing I saw was Ellie lifting something in the hair and then I heard David screaming in pain. After that everything went black.

Joel

Joel made his way across the town killing anyone that got in his way. An orange glow caught his eye and he ran towards it. Running into the building. The last building he was in had dead bodies hanging on hooks. This time he found yn unconscious on the floor and Ellie repeatedly hitting someone with a machete. The place was on fire and burning quickly. He ran over and checked on yn, letting out a breath when he knew she was still alive. Then he went to Ellie.

She hit him, yelling to let her go, but he managed To calm her down. “It's me! It's me! You're alright, I got you, baby girl.” He pulled her into him and she sobbed into his shoulder. He helped her up onto her feet, walked over and picked yn up, and got them out of there before anymore people could come.

YN

When I woke up I was looking up at the ceiling of a car. I groaned, putting my hand on my forehead. Wincing at the pain in my head. “You're awake!” I turn my head to see Ellie looking back at me from the front see. I make eye contact with Joel when I look up to the review mirror. “You're alive,” I whispered. He let out a low chuckle. “Can't get rid of me that easily, darling.”

“Where are we we? Where are we going?” I asked. Joel looks back at the road and I try to sit up but that just makes my head hurt more. “We're heading to Salt Lake City. We've been driving for about two hours now. But it's getting late so I want to try and find somewhere we can rest up for a few days.”

That's what we did; we found a a quiet small town an hour later. Joel and Ellie searched the stores for any usable supplies. When they were finished we drove to a neighborhood just outside of town. The place almost looked like Bill and Frank's neighborhood; untouched. It didn't have the fence around it and everything with extremely overgrown, you could see the tall grass peeking out of the snow. The windows of the houses were boarded up. Joel went to the furthest house and parked in the driveway. “Stay here. I'm going to check it out, if itunsafe I'm going to try and open the garage to pull the car in.”

I didn't think he would find anything in the house. This place looked like it was evacuated early. There were X's on the doors, no bodies lay around that I could see. Every house was boarded up. Even in town things looked like everyone simply just dropped wherever they were doing and left. The garage door opened ten minutes later and Joel walked out. “Everything's clear. Place doesn't even looked touched,” he said, getting back in the car. He drove the car into the garage and shut it off.

After he got out and shut thebgarage door again, Joel came around to the back and helped me out. “How are you feelin’, darling?” He asked. I shrugged, “Like I've been ran the fuck over. How about you? How does your side feel?” I ask, gently touching where he had been stabbed with the broken baseball bat. “It's tight and hurts but not like it had been. Whatever you gave me is helping.” Ellie got out of the car and grabbed our bags.

It was pretty clean inside, besides all the dust and a few stains on the ceilings. The air was a little musty but nothing we couldn't handle. Joel sat me on the couch and looked at the fireplace. “I saw a small wood pile covered up out back. Im gonna go get some and start a small fire.” He stood up and headed towards the kitchen. Ellie had gone looking around the house and came back with a couple blankets. “I found these upstairs.” She handed me one and sat down beside me.

Joel came back inside with a stack of wood in his arms and dropped it on the floor beside the fireplace. “Ellie looked, get me those matches in my bag, and find some newspaper or something.” Ellie stood up and grabbed the matches and a couple of magazines off the coffee table. She handed them to Joel, and he got a small fire going. At least we would be warm and kind of safe tonight.

[chernayawidow]

OH MY OH MY OH MY!!! We finally get to indulge in some domestic adjacent material for our babies omggg!!! LETS GET INTO IT!

““Ex-wife, isn’t it?” Stan said, raising a brow.” — LMAOOO Stan really went and humbled that jackass REAL QUICK! The only good thing he’s ever done 🤙

“Perhaps he’d gone a bit too far, but he’d only been trying to subdue you. To get you to listen to him. But you’d always been stubborn.” — Oh yeah Jon, you’re just the absolute epitome of father of the year, aren’t ya? What a delusional prick 🙂

“Your thighs were molded to his hips, and he was still buried deep inside you. But as of yet, you had no reason to move. You were enjoying your vantage point above him, watching him collect himself with closed eyes.” — OH HELL YEAH WE’RE GETTING FED AREN’T WE? LESHGOOO!! Although with all the sex they’re most likely having, you’ve gotta hope that she’s somehow on birth control… 😅

“Holding your free hand at the nape of his neck, you pressed your lips above his brow. Then another kiss to his scratchy cheek. His beard had gotten overgrown. “You need a trim,” you said, letting out a breathy laugh. You kissed his cheek again.” — Even though this part was in the sneak peak in the last one, it’s even better seeing it in complete context! It’s such a simple yet domestic thing to say 😩🫶

“And there were other things too, that he was beginning to realize, but not yet willing to cement in his mind.” — Mhmm, you’re getting warmer and warmer bud! Slowly putting together the picture of what you’re feeling for her! I love that we’ve gotten to witness the progression of their relationship, it’s so satisfying when you think of where they started out and where they are now. There’s still some road to go, but they’re still in quite a good place now.

“But maybe he mourned the connection he could’ve had with a son. From what he’d said about Crimson Countess, you knew he wanted a real family. That softened you. You brushed a lock of hair away from his eyes with delicate fingers.” — Time to toss that birth control ig 🤷‍♀️

“Alert the media,” you said. “We’ve got the ultimate weapon against Soldier Boy: a slow ride on his dick.” — He’s truly met his match and it’s absolutely spectacular to witness 😂 this made me WHEEZE!

“Thank God for IUDs, you thought.” — No cause that would have to be some military grade birth control for it to hold up against SB’s nuclear level sperm!

“He heard puttering in the kitchen, knew it was you because of your soft humming. It drew a smile to his face without him realizing.” — Awwww look at him being smitten with his girl! You’re killing me (affectionate) with how cute these moments are omg!

“He ventured into the kitchen, where the smell of good food made his mouth water, and the sight of you frying bacon (trying not to get burned by the sparking grease) deepened his grin.” — They’re being so fluffy and domestic that it’s warming my soul so deeply 🫶 and they’re practically getting a taste of living together too mwahahahaha!! 😏

“You’re probably the reason that didn’t happen,” he continued. “And that I’m here now.” — I love that he’s addressing this, it feels like a piece of growth for him. I really adore that he’s telling her these things instead of letting his pride or something keep him from expressing these things.

“But I’m getting it off you too," he said gruffly. "You want a deal? Here it is: no one’s fucking touching you again as long as I’m around.” — AHHHH MY HEART!!! No because THIS is such a strong expression of his affection for her, it feels like such an intimate statement and he’s just outright saying it to her instead of suppressing it! And it very much gives off the impression of him wanting to stay in her life… 🫣

“Butcher calling…” — NOOO BUTCHER YOU COCKBLOCKING MOTHERFUCKER NOOOO!!! Top 10 moments of betrayal right here, this is at number 1 for SURE!

“Annie gave you an incredulous look. “So you’re okay with that psycho killing a little girl?” — You really do capture the essence of these characters, especially there key characteristics. Like this moment right here showcases Annie’s self righteousness 🤣

““If you’re grown enough to throw a punch, you’re grown enough to take one,” he argued.” — Oh lordy lord his toxic ideals strike again, he needs to take a chill pill 🤚 tbh I reckon he’s the type to argue with a child about the most minimal thing…

“Yeah, are you gonna say that in a few years? If he turns out just like Homelander, are you going to come crying to me to take him out?” — Its a grey area when it comes to Ryan in my opinion, because no good outcome can come from him. If his mum was still around to raise him, I reckon he would’ve had a chance at growing up decent and becoming a good person. But since she’s gone, I don’t see a good result coming from him remaining alive, especially because so many traumatic things have happened to him and that’s already impacted him negatively. Like yeah he’s a kid now, but he won’t always be.

“I’m asking you to keep your word,” you said. “For both of our sakes.” — That’s the important part of the whole thing, is that if he steps even an inch out of line, there’s gonna be consequences. Grace would just be waiting for the chance to strike down on him, so he needs to grow up and accept that our pookie is trying to keep him within the bounds of his deal.

Now while I haven’t left as many little bitty comments, that’s because I was so invested and I probably would’ve just been repeating myself because I was just in awe of everything 🫶 but I love the side of Ben and Pookie that we got to see, and that in spite of the bliss, we still get to see that they still very much have opposing ideals. Their differences didn’t just go away because they’re being affectionate with each other. And I also love that in spite of their argument, they pushed past it and had a tender moment (that aloe moment was honestly adorable omg)! And it really seems like they’re getting close to having their big epiphanies, especially after that protective declaration he made to her. And I love the revision of Ben’s dream to have a family of his own, as well as how he used to want that with Countess. Really loving how this is all going and I’m SOOOOO excited to watch how everything else unfolds!!! 💖💖

Break Me Down - Part 14

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

AN: Stick around at the end for a special note — new SB fic dropping soon!

Word Count: 6,000 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! We return to the smut! Plus a healthy dose of fluff, angst, action, moral quandaries, and feels.

 Part 14: Safe House

Jon lied in his hospital bed, frowning hard at a computer screen. His arm and collarbone were broken, along with a few ribs. He had a private room, at least, courtesy of Vought. 

Stan Edgar strode in following a quick knock on the door. 

“Hello, Jonathan. I meant to visit you earlier,” said Stan. Jon stared at his boss, silently simmering. On his laptop played footage of the destruction wrought on the Lower West Side by a major car chase.

“How are you feeling?” Stan asked.

“Why was Black Noir set loose on my wife and daughters?” he seethed through gritted teeth. Damn how the effort of keeping still was almost as painful as moving.

“Ex-wife, isn’t it?” Stan said, raising a brow.

Jon was not amused.

“I gave the order, yes,” Stan acknowledged. “On your eldest daughter.”

Jon was incensed. If he could get out of this bed, he’d very well contemplate strangling the other man. Stan seemed to know it, but considering his personal security guards were standing near the back wall of the hospital room, he also didn’t look worried.

“Why?” Jon asked, genuinely surprised and dismayed. “She’s not a threat.” 

“Soldier Boy kept her for a reason,” Stan pointed out. “She brought him to our doorstep, with the intention of helping him assassinate me…eliminating her was a calculated risk.” 

Jon shook his head.

“But since Noir has failed, we will have to prepare accordingly,” Stan said. 

Jon glared back at him. “You think I’m going to help you?”

“I think you have a job to do,” Stan returned. “It didn’t stop you from breaking your daughter’s ribs, and very nearly her neck.”

Jon faltered, a brief regret weighing his frown. 

“That wasn’t…that was to teach her a lesson.”

Perhaps he’d gone a bit too far, but he’d only been trying to subdue you. To get you to listen to him. But you’d always been stubborn.

Stan broke him from his thoughts.

“I am not being attacked, Jon,” he said. “We are. Your daughter is a part of it.” 

“Marie and Luisa are not. Leave them out of this!” 

Stan merely rose a brow. He folded his hands behind his back and withdrew. He was flanked by his bodyguards as he left the room. 

“Rest up, Jonathan,” he said. “I’ll need you soon enough.”

The master bed was actually pretty comfortable, as you and Ben found out. 

You clung onto his shoulders after both of you were spent. You panted for breath as he held you to him with his solid arms wrapped around your waist. You two were both kneeling, technically, in the middle of the bed.

Your thighs were molded to his hips, and he was still buried deep inside you. But as of yet, you had no reason to move. You were enjoying your vantage point above him, watching him collect himself with closed eyes. 

The simple truth of it was, you’d missed him. 

Even when he was being a stubborn pain in the ass, you hated every moment you had to watch him caged, watching him start to think he may never get out.

Your hands slid around to his back. It allowed you to hold him in more of an embrace as you caught your breath. 

When his eyes opened, you met him with a smile. You slipped your fingers through his sweaty hair. Holding your free hand at the nape of his neck, you pressed your lips above his brow. Then another kiss to his scratchy cheek. His beard had gotten overgrown.

“You need a trim,” you said, letting out a breathy laugh. You kissed his cheek again. Slow, and with purpose. 

Ben let out a sigh through his nose. His eyes closed again at your gentler kisses, your touch. Maybe he reveled in this—being able to hold you back. It felt right. 

If he was honest with himself (and this time, he was), you were somehow able to ease the frayed edges of his mind. Edges that had been starting to unravel in that cell. 

And there were other things too, that he was beginning to realize, but not yet willing to cement in his mind.

So you reluctantly detangled from one another, but remained in bed. The problem was, for whatever closeness you two had just shared…you weren’t quite sure what to do now.

You hesitated to ask him just what the two of you were doing. Mostly because you didn’t want to ruin whatever this was by labeling it. 

So instead, you relaxed against his chest and pulled the blankets over you both. Ben didn’t just tolerate it; he settled a heavy arm across your lower back and over your hip. It made you smile.

“Ben…what do you want from the rest of your life?” you asked. 

You didn’t know what possessed you to ask, but you had to wonder what the end goal was for him, after the issue of Vought was settled. After he presumably kept his end of the deal and retired to South America, or Europe, or wherever he wanted to go, really. 

His hand came up to pet your hair. “I just got some of it.”

You huffed a laugh, hiding your face into his chest for a moment. You couldn’t see it, but Ben grinned at how easy it was to embarrass you, for how wanton he knew you could be.

“Come on, seriously,” you said. 

“Seriously?” he teased. 

“Yes,” you said, despite a giggle.

He let out something of a sigh. Meanwhile, his hand drew lazy patterns up and down your naked back.

“I always thought I had time,” he confessed. “To settle down. Have a family…I actually thought it would be Tess.”

That thought was accompanied by a bitter chuckle. Your brows furrowed in question. 

“Crimson Countess,” he explained. 

“Ah.” You nodded and rested a hand across his lower abs, playing with the thin trail of hair there that led south. He found it strangely soothing, if a hint arousing.

“Was it difficult killing Homelander?” you asked. 

Ben scoffed. “Just chock full of questions tonight, aren’t you?”

You sat up and propped an elbow on his shoulder, so he had to look at you. 

“Not physically. Emotionally,” you said. God forbid you ask him about his man feelings, but you really were curious. 

Ben eyed you with a raised brow.

“I know he wasn’t really your son,” you said. “He was a raging psychopath and needed to go down, but was there a part of you that…was it hard for you?” 

Ben’s mood dimmed as his lips pulled into a frown. “He was a true disappointment. Barely a man.” 

That didn’t quite answer your question, but you thought you could read some of his true feelings on the matter. You didn’t think he regretted killing Homelander. But maybe he mourned the connection he could’ve had with a son. From what he’d said about Crimson Countess, you knew he wanted a real family.

That softened you. You brushed a lock of hair away from his eyes with delicate fingers. 

“He was told he was a god his entire life. That’s what happens,” you said. 

Ben scoffed at that, his gaze cutting away from you. You didn’t know what that meant exactly.  

“And you?” he asked, turning back to you. “What do you want from all this?” 

“Besides my family safe?” you retorted. But then, you considered his words. “I don’t know. I thought I knew who I was before I met you. Now I’m realizing that I can’t control anything in my life.” 

Ben raised your chin, and therefore your face up to him. 

“You can control you. You’ve been doing that since I met you.” His thumb swiped against your lower lip. “Especially this fucking mouth.” 

You smiled. “But you like that though.” 

His lips pulled at amusement, huffing in response. 

“Come on,” you teased. You moved, slipping a leg over to straddle his lap. You delved into his hair with both hands, and he let you tug his head back as he now looked up at you. 

“Admit it,” you said cheekily. “You like my mouth. Talking back to you…on you…and getting you off.” 

All while you spoke, you brushed your lips across his cheek, down his jawline, pressed a nipping kiss along his neck, below his ear. Then you returned to his lips. But you also ground down into his lap, feeling his rising length brush against your wet folds.

He groaned deep as you plied him the way you’d learned to do. And your tongue slipped into his mouth with your next kiss. He gripped your hips tight, wordlessly urging you to lower down into his lap and onto his waiting cock. But you resisted. 

“Say it,” you demanded. 

When he merely smirked, denying you control, you lowered a hand to take a firm hold of his cock. He let out a low hum of pleasure as you pumped him a couple of times, then held him poised at your entrance. 

“I’ll give you what you want,” you said, brushing his lips. “But first, tell me how much you missed this.”

His next breath came out sharp as you squeezed his cock in your hand. You knew you’d find his fingerprints on your hips and ass in the morning, but you didn’t care. Because you were about to fucking win. 

“Fine,” he said, through clenched teeth. “Maybe I’ve been craving this, more than a fix. More than goddamn sleep.” 

Ben’s eyes were dark with lust, and he thumbed at your lower lip. 

“And this fucking mouth. Gets you into all kinds of trouble, baby doll.” 

You smirked and finally sunk on top of him. His cock slid past your folds and bottomed out inside of you, making you shudder and Ben groan in relief. 

You did exactly as you promised. With your hands braced on his shoulders, you moved over him nice and slow. 

Well, nice for you. Torturous for him. 

He cast his head back to the headboard as he fought not to make you move. 

“You’re fuckin’ killing me here,” he growled.

Your mouth curved into a grin. 

“Alert the media,” you said. “We’ve got the ultimate weapon against Soldier Boy: a slow ride on his dick.”

Ben’s rich laugh rumbled out, crinkling his eyes at the corners and making you smile. You felt the impact of his laughter deep inside you, which wasn’t unpleasant. But you had mercy on him and finally picked up the pace. He grabbed a fistful of your hair for leverage while your lovely tits bounced in his face.

Then his fingers slid between you, parting your folds to rub at your clit. It made your hips stutter as you let out a mangled moan. Your inner walls started to tighten around him, earning you another muttered curse. He couldn’t help but thrust up inside you, mostly in time with your movements. 

But he got impatient.

He grabbed your hips tighter and flipped you over, with your thighs wrapped around his hips. 

“The moment I saw you, I knew I’d have you,” he gritted out. “Fuck, just like this.”

You gasped as he pounded deeper inside you. You felt like the bed was going to swallow you up. But you pressed your heels into his lower back and held on for the rest of the ride.

Within moments, Ben spilled into you so hard and fast that it took both of you by surprise. It felt hot and tingling inside you, making you shudder again. 

Thank God for IUDs, you thought. 

And when his fingers found your clit again in time with his last wild thrusts, it was enough to tumble you over along with him.

Afterwards, Ben braced himself on the headboard as a line of sweat dripped down the column of his neck. You grabbed onto his free hand while you caught your breath. His lips tugged at a smirk, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. 

“And we’re not done,” he said. “Not by a long shot.”

Ben woke to the annoying sound of coffee percolating. A normal man would have slept right through it, but thanks to his sensitive ears, he was up at… 

Christ, it’s 11 in the morning. He noted the digital clock on the nightstand and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He actually slept all night. And all morning. 

Up until recently, that had been impossible. 

He heard puttering in the kitchen, knew it was you because of your soft humming. It drew a smile to his face without him realizing. 

He climbed out of bed, showered, shaved and trimmed off the wilder parts of his beard, and dressed casually with the clothing he found in the closet. Wasn’t a perfect fit, but it would do for now.

This house was also not what he was used to. It was small, and too “suburban dad” for his taste. But he guessed it was better than an underground glass prison cell.

He ventured into the kitchen, where the smell of good food made his mouth water, and the sight of you frying bacon (trying not to get burned by the sparking grease) deepened his grin.

All you wore was his discarded shirt from yesterday, presumably over your underwear as it hung around your thighs, and a pair of slippers you must’ve found in the closet. 

Maybe you heard him coming, because you glanced back over your shoulder and met him with a smile. But it soon edged into a more serious look as you turned and leveled him with your spatula. 

“Okay. I don’t want any smartass remarks,” you warned. “I did make breakfast, because I’m a nice person, but don’t expect this for every meal.” 

Ben raised a wry brow.

“Morning to you too,” he drawled. He rested a hand on your lower back as he looked over your shoulder, surveying the plate of cooling bacon, the pan of scrambled eggs, and the toast ready to be buttered on the counter, next to a jar of strawberry jam. “Looks good.”

You watched him steal a piece of bacon, your lips quirking.

“Is that a thank you?” you asked. 

He purposefully bit into the bacon instead of answering. You gave him a narrowed look, but you were still amused. 

“Even a child can say please and thank you,” you pointed out. 

Ben turned to you then and hooked an arm around your waist, suddenly pulling you tight against him. 

“All right. How about this?” he replied. His head bowed and kissed you thoroughly. He tasted coffee and jam on your tongue. A surprised moan caught in your throat, and you clung to his arms on instinct. Meanwhile, free hand went to your hip, bunching the material of the stolen shirt.

When he broke from you, he looked down on your somewhat dazed expression and had to temper his smile. He gave you a nice slap on the ass, shocking a yelp out of you. 

You shot him a dry look.

“Is that please, or thank you?” you teased. 

Ben rolled his eyes and kissed you again, trapping you against the counter this time. But he didn’t allow himself to get carried away (yet). He swept back strands of your hair and let his fingers skim across your cheek, feeling your skin warming under his touch. 

He finally settled on brushing his thumb across your bottom lip, meeting your eyes.  

“Thank you,” he said.

It had a deeper meaning, you realized from the gravity of his gaze.

“That fucking bitch probably wanted to put me on ice the second they brought me in,” he said. 

You could only assume he meant Grace. 

“You’re probably the reason that didn’t happen,” he continued. “And that I’m here now.” 

Emotion threatened to choke you, beginning to sting your eyes. You cleared your throat and soothed a hand along his forearm. 

“You made the deal,” you pointed out. Ben shook his head.

“You were right. I want the fucking target off my back, once and for all,” he said. He touched where a smattering of bruises from the car accident colored your temple and part of your cheek with fading purple and yellow.

“But I’m getting it off you too," he said gruffly. "You want a deal? Here it is: no one’s fucking touching you again as long as I’m around.”

Your breath hitched as your heart began to hammer in your chest. You wanted to ask what that meant. You wanted to ask if, maybe, he wanted to be with you. If he…

But you lost your nerve.

“The eggs are gonna get cold,” you said in a coarse whisper. 

Ben smirked. 

“That’s really what you’re fucking worried about?” he asked, shortly before he cut off your would-be reply with a heated kiss. 

Your arms twined around his neck, almost of their own volition. He already had you by the waist, and from there he hefted you effortlessly onto a small clean portion of counter space in the kitchen. His hands burned up your thighs, underneath the overlarge shirt. When he encountered nothing but bare ass, his lips curved against yours. 

“What a naughty girl. You’re out here cooking with no fucking panties on?” 

It was your turn to smirk as you held a hand to his cheek. He did in fact trim the beard. 

“You like that, don’t you?” you remarked. 

His dark chuckle was your answer as he spread your thighs wider. Your breath came out a bit shakier as his hand went smoothly up the inside of your thigh and slipped between your folds. 

“Already wet for me, I see,” he said. His smirk only grew as you whined with pleasure at the invasion of his fingers. First just teasing inside your entrance, working you up. Your grip on his neck tightened, your nails digging into his shoulders. 

“Ben…”

“How many fucking times I gotta tell you to be patient?” 

“Ugh.” You dropped your forehead into the crook of his neck. “You are the worst.” 

His resulting chuckle reverberated in your chest and tingled down into your lower belly. Combined with his teasing, it made your inner walls tighten on nothing from anticipation…until two of his fingers suddenly sunk deep into your heat. You cried out into his ear in surprise. 

“Ben,” you breathed, but it ended on a moan as he finally began to give you what you wanted. His thumb found your clit and circled slowly while he thrust and turned his fingers inside you. You gripped at his hair, holding on tighter and tighter as your walls clenched on his hand. 

“That’s it, baby doll. I gotcha,” he muttered. Though you teased a grunt out of him when you snaked a hand between you to palm at the bulge in his jeans. If he was going to give you a good morning, you’d be sure to return the favor. 

He kept working on you, but with shaking hands you unzipped his pants and aimed to free him from those tight boxer briefs. 

Unfortunately, your cell phone ringing halted both of your plans. It was on the kitchen counter, and it vibrated across the tile next to you. 

Butcher calling…

Both of your heavy breathing accompanied the shrill sound. But when you noticed the caller ID, you gave Ben a rueful look. 

He frowned in annoyance, but he withdrew from you, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel before he grabbed your phone and answered it (even if it took him two or three angry tries on swiping the green button). You put it on speaker. 

“What?” Ben grouched into the phone.

“Apologies for interrupting what I’m sure is a dewy morning after,” Butcher said with all due sarcasm. “We’ve got a lead on Neuman.”

You raised a brow at that. Tugging down your shirt back over your thighs, you answered, “Where is she?”

“She’s giving a speech at NYU this afternoon.”

You frowned. You knew for a fact he hadn’t run that by the whole team. 

“It’s not a good idea to catch her there. Too exposed. Too many people could get caught in the crossfire,” you said. 

“Her next scheduled outing is a fundraiser for the homeless. That any better?” Butcher asked with mock cheer. “At the least the college kiddos won’t be coughing up a lung because their hepatitis A’s on a flare up.”

Ben’s lips twitched at amusement, but your frown only deepened in irritation. 

“You’re unsavory, you know that?” you said, rubbing at your temple. “…Fine. We’ll catch her at the college.” 

“Wasn’t really up for fuckin’ debate,” Butcher replied. “We head out in two hours.”

This isn’t going to be easy, you thought. 

You were teamed up with M.M., Annie, and Hughie on surveillance, sitting in Frenchie’s van on one of the side streets outside the auditorium where Victoria Neuman was giving her speech.   

Kimiko and Frenchie had formed a perimeter with Butcher on the campus. After the speech came to a close, Butcher, M.M., and Frenchie had worked out where Victoria would likely be escorted out to get back to her limo. 

But you forced yourself to take deep breaths. You watched the various camera angles you and M.M. had been able to hook up to the monitors inside the van. On one of the screens was Ben in his full Soldier Boy gear, sans helmet, waiting for his cue.

You felt M.M. glancing at you, and you met his stare. His expression was tight, but mostly stoic. Still, you had a feeling you knew what he was thinking. 

“He can do this,” you said. 

M.M. shook his head and faced the screens. “You think you can fucking change him.”

“No,” you said. “But he just might surprise you.”

You weren’t trying to change him, nor were you trying to free yourself anymore. He’d caught you, in more ways than one. 

Now, you were just trying to help him. And maybe, help yourself. 

“I don’t give a fuck,” M.M. bit out. Annie and Hughie glanced at both of you in thinly veiled concern. You just quirked a humorless smile. 

“I think you do,” you replied. 

“All right, look alive,” Butcher said on the comm. Victoria’s speech was over. She was shepherded off the stage by her bodyguards while the president of NYU got up to make closing remarks. 

She got as far as the hallway leading to the back door of the auditorium before Frenchie and Butcher sniped out her guards. You watched Victoria gasp and flinch at the bullets flying all too close to her. She looked around sharply, but finding no one there, she made a run for the exit. 

That was when Ben ambushed her from the side, grabbing her from behind and shoving her through the door of the next room before she could aim her gaze at any part of him. 

Ben stalked in after her. You adjusted the camera monitors to connect to the science lab they’d burst into. Every muscle in your body tensed as you watched. 

Meanwhile, Ben was wary but not afraid as he kept his shield in front of his face. Victoria raised a hand to a her now bruised arm, but she scrambled in her navy pencil dress and heels to pick herself up. 

She looked up at the supe striding toward her, taking in his head protecting his upper body. So she focused her gaze on his right thigh, making him falter as her power made her eyes roll into her head and blast at his suit. 

The skin underneath was durable though. It felt like a nasty sunburn, one that Ben could ignore. He approached until he could grab her by the hair and turn her face away from him. She cried out, clawing back at his hand. 

He placed his shield onto the holster on his back and got a hold on the back of her neck. He forced her onto her knees while he made her keep looking at the ground. 

“Soldier Boy,” she panted. “Haven’t had the pleasure.”

“Cut the fucking chit-chat. Where the fuck is Stan, that dick tease?”  

He was about to start squeezing his grip, when he was suddenly thrown into the far wall. He fell into a mess of student desks, beakers, and various scientific instruments. 

“Zoe!” he heard Victoria shout. Apparently the woman’s daughter was a supe too. A telekinetic, by the looks of it.

With an angry growl, he picked himself up and shook off the glass from his shoulders. By the time he looked up, Victoria was ushering her daughter out the opposite door. 

Ben ran after them, following them into what seemed to be another classroom. This one was full of students busy taking a test, and a professor grading a large stack of papers. Ben zipped through and ignored the gasps and shocked faces, along with a couple of kids that recognized him and immediately took out their phones. 

He also didn’t care that his elbow knocked the stack of papers to the ground (to the professor’s outrage). 

He bulldozed his way into another empty classroom, where he threw his shield at Victoria’s back. With a cry, she tripped and fell into a desk, and was separated from her daughter.

“Mom!” Zoe cried and reached out for her, but Victoria raised a frantic hand. 

“Stay there!” she shouted back at her. Her attention focused back on Ben. 

She razed at his face and chest with her powers. Ben winced as heat flared across his skin, blistering to the point of second-degree burns on his arm after protecting his face. He strode forward and grabbed her again, this time with a thumb pressing over one eye. 

“You wanna keep your fucking eyes, or you want to tell me where your father is?” he demanded. 

“No!” Zoe shouted. She raised her hands, and a violet glow of energy spread between them. Ben picked up his shield, ready to use it as a projectile against the girl. 

Until your voice sounded in the comm in his ear.

“Go easy, Ben. She’s not the target,” you warned. He hesitated, his lips twisting in annoyance. 

“Zoe,” Victoria warned. His thumb still pressed threateningly against one of her eyes. The other looked up at him, defiant. But her lower lip was trembling. 

“You really want your daughter to be a part of this?” Ben asked darkly. 

You were on pins and needles. While you watched the screen, M.M. glanced at you. 

“We need to do something,” Annie said. She had been antsy the entire time, and when Hughie tried to grab her shoulder, she shrugged him off. 

“We can’t extract the girl without Neuman seeing us,” you said. But you weren’t happy about it. 

Annie gave you an incredulous look. “So you’re okay with that psycho killing a little girl?” 

“Of course not, Annie!” you snapped. “But this is the reality of catching criminals. They rarely go down by themselves.” 

She frowned angrily at you. 

“That sounds like an excuse for murder,” she said. 

There was a tense moment, in which you and Annie stared back at one another. You eventually relented. 

“Okay, go. But stay on standby with Kimiko and Frenchie. They’re outside the classroom, 112B,” you told her. She and Hughie raced out, and you let out a breath while you turned back to the tense scene in front of you. 

“Look, I don’t know where he is,” Victoria said. “We haven’t exactly been on speaking terms.”

“Then get him on the fucking phone,” Ben snapped. 

A tear streamed down her eye, the one that briefly closed, then looked up at him. 

“He’s not a bad man,” she said. “Not…entirely.” 

Ben snorted in response. “Well, aside from trying to replace me with a bullshit knockoff, shipping me off to motherfucking Siberia. He stole from me. My life. And the bitch of the whole bunch, tried to kill me with a fucking clone, with the help of my own DNA. So excuse me if I’m past the fucking point of forgive and forget.” 

“Fine! Fine,” she said, when he started squeezing in earnest. “Let my daughter go, and I’ll help you.” 

Ben glanced up at the girl. She was frightened, with her glowing hands still poised to try and take him out. He still had half a mind to knock her out first. 

“She’s just a kid, Ben. Let her go,” you said in his ear.

After another tense moment, Ben nodded.

Annie burst into the classroom, followed by Butcher, Frenchie, and Kimiko. Annie reached Zoe with a gentle hand on her shoulder, and she shared a look with Victoria. 

“She’ll be okay,” Annie told Victoria, who nodded as more tears slipped down her cheeks. Ben held her firm by the shoulders when Butcher came with a device, no doubt provided by the CIA. It looked like a large metal band that clicked into place around Victoria’s head, covering her eyes. 

Kimiko and Frenchie led her out, while Annie and Hughie did the same for Zoe. Butcher shared an appraising look with Ben, who stared back at him coolly.

Meanwhile, you let out a deep breath. You sat back in your seat and ignored the way M.M. gave you some cursory side-eye. 

Thank Christ that’s over.

Back at Supe Affairs, Victoria gave them addresses to her adoptive father’s known safehouses. Not because they expected to find him there, but because they might find even more material to leverage against him before they attempted to arrest the man. 

 While Butcher and the rest of the team ran down the leads, you and Annie made sure Victoria’s daughter Zoe was put in protective custody, again, with Grace’s help.

Afterwards, Ben was waiting for you in the car that would bring you both back to the safe house. You rode there in silence. 

When you got inside the house and made your way to the bedroom, Ben followed you. It seemed he couldn’t help himself. His arms were crossed, and his face was tight. You waited on him to speak as you started rummaging in the dresser for a shirt and pair of jeans to change into after a shower.  

“I don’t need you yapping in my ear when I’m trying to get shit done,” he said. 

You paused in your search, and you turned to him, raising an incredulous brow. 

“I wasn’t sure if you were going to stick to the plan. Targeted kills only, remember? Zoe wasn’t the target.”

His frown soured. “She hit me first.”

You stared back at him. Then you raised your eyes heavenward, praying for strength. And you let out a breath. 

“She was trying to help her mother, Ben.”

“If you’re grown enough to throw a punch, you’re grown enough to take one,” he argued. 

“You’ve never hit me once,” you pointed out. “Is it different because she’s a supe? Were you really going to kill a child?”

“I never said that,” he said, glaring at you. 

“Would you have killed Ryan too?” you asked.

Ben expelled a sigh of exasperation. “Would you shut up already?” 

“No,” you refused. And you followed him into the living room when he stormed out. “You’re not going to weasel your way out of this. Would you have killed Ryan?”

“I don’t know,” he snapped. “He was Homelander’s fucking kid.”

“And that makes it all right?”

“Yeah, are you gonna say that in a few years? If he turns out just like Homelander, are you going to come crying to me to take him out?”

You glared at him. He was making a valid point you couldn’t refute, but that didn’t change what he was trying to do. 

“You’re unbelievable.” You shook your head and crossed your arms. “You’re actually justifying this.”

“Whether you want to admit it or not, a supe is a supe,” Ben said, raising a finger. “No matter how old they are, they’re a threat.”

“It doesn’t mean a child shouldn’t be protected, Soldier Boy,” you countered. “A life is a life.”

“Hey, if you want to be sanctimonious, good for fucking you,” he shot back. “But don’t tell me how to do my fucking job.”

“I’m asking you to keep your word,” you said. “For both of our sakes.”

That managed to shut him up. With a sigh, you tried to ease up and take his hand. His glove was busted, the skin underneath was red and raw. He allowed it, but he still looked down on you with reserved irritation.

You knew you didn’t have to remind him what breaking Grace’s agreement would mean, for both of you. 

“Just follow the plan,” you implored. “Targeted kills only. No collateral damage.”

After Ben came out of the shower, he went into the bedroom to change with a towel wrapped around his waist.

You were already cleaned up, a messy bun atop your head, wearing a plain shirt and some shorts, and sitting up in the bed with your new laptop. But you subtly watched him move around the room.   

You noticed the burns across his chest. You were still irritated with him, but you couldn’t help it. You set your laptop aside and went to him. 

Ben saw you coming through the large mirror above the dresser. His head turned to you just as you raised a tentative hand near the burns across his chest.

“Does it hurt?” you asked with furrowed brows. Your fingertips were light in touching his chest. 

It did sting, but it wasn’t that bad. 

Still, all Ben said was, “No. They’ll probably be gone in a few hours anyway.”

Your lower lip stuck out a little, like you didn’t quite believe him as you inspected the various burns. 

Ben eyed you. He still couldn’t fucking figure you out. 

He knew you were into him…and evidently, you cared about him. 

Still, you fought him on virtually everything. There were times when you seemed almost disgusted by him, but when he fucked you, you acted like he was the eighth wonder of the world.

Even now, that perfect damn mouth of yours was frowning while your fingers moved delicately over his skin.

“You want some aloe vera?” you asked. 

He knew by your face that you were completely sincere. It made him chuckle. You looked up at him in confusion.

“What’s so funny?”

Not unlike this morning, he picked you up (smirking at your squeal) and set you down on the dresser. His hands rested on your hips while yours laid gently on a non-burnt area of his chest.

“For someone as breakable as you, you seem to be real concerned about me,” he said. “...You’re really not afraid of me, are you?”

Your fingertips ran down his skin, unintentionally raising goosebumps. Though you considered his question with a tilt of your head. 

“Why, are you going to break me?” you teased.

Ben huffed in amusement. His lips drew near yours, hovering but not yet claiming. He wanted you to come to him this time. Wanted you to let him know if this thing, whatever it was between you two, was heading where he thought it was…

And you didn’t disappoint him. 

You reached out and framed his face with both hands, and pulled him into a kiss. For once, neither of you were in a hurry as one languid kiss turned into another. 

Your tongue slipped into his mouth, and he welcomed you with a deep, reverberating hum, along with your thighs slipping around his hips. He took a firm grip of you there, while your fingers carded through his hair. 

“Still not tired of this?” you whispered against his lips. 

He backed off enough to look at you. Really look at you. His brown hair fell above his brows, and as was your habit, you swept some of it out of his eyes. 

You read his answer there without him having to say it in words. 

So you pulled him back in.

AN: 😏 Was their reunion everything you wanted it to be? Let me know in the comments!

(And do you wanna know where we're going next?)

Next Time:

“Good morning,” Stan greeted, raising his mug. “Care for a cup? Perhaps a donut.”

“Still fucking smarmy,” Ben said. He stood in front of the man’s desk, flexing his half-gloved fingers. He glanced up at the walls of this office, this tower in the sky. “We’ve been doing this dance for a long time, you and I.”

“And yet, on entirely different tempos,” Stan replied. “How can I help you, Soldier Boy?”

Special Note:

I'm releasing a new one-shot soon, set in this story-verse called "Love Actually." It's part of @deanwinchesterswitch's Christmas in July fic event running this month!

Go here to check it out and participate (as a writer/artist or a reader)!

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[mossjimi]

[wardenparker]

Flyboy

Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x female Reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Extremely Explicit! Word Count: 12k Warnings: Alcohol, gold medal flirting, cocky young Frankie should have a warning all his own, alcohol consumption, dirty talk, masturbation, tits, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, protected sex, somnophilia (roleplay? technically? I dunno). Summary: Out to celebrate with your coworkers, you have a random encounter with a handsome Army pilot and decide to take a chance. Notes: ✨💖🎈Last week I passed the unbelievable milestone of 1.5k followers and I just absolutely cannot thank all of you lovely folx enough!! Well over a THOUSAND of you have joined me since I became a part of the Pedro fandom a little over a year ago and I am just continually floored by the amazing response you’ve all had to not only my work alone but my collaborations with Keri. Being able to come to this little corner of the internet and share my words with all of you has been a gift of magnitude that I cannot begin to explain properly. You have my gratitude, dear readers and followers, and I hope to continue to be silly in this corner of the internet with you for a long time to come.🎈💖✨

✈ I know the gif is from Hermanas, but I chose it because this is baby Frankie!  ✈

The party had started with noon beers at your coworker's college graduation party. When it turned into afternoon sangria and then evening margaritas, the group of merrily celebrating coworkers had begun to dwindle a few at a time. Somebody's spouse came to whisk them off to dinner from the bar. A significant other joined the group for one drink and they both left together by the next. One of the older members of the group threw in the towel when she ran out of cigarettes, calling it her signal from the universe that her night was over. Another got called away by a different group of friends. Now it's just three of you left, bellied up to a high-top table in a dive bar with busy pool tables and a karaoke contest going on. The basket of popcorn on the table between you keeps you thirsty enough to brave the commotion to grab another rum and Coke, even as your two friends are giggling over the group of flyboys that are conquering the pool tables. "Who wants another?" You ask above the music, pointing to your friends' dwindling glasses.

Nights out on the town were sacred. The reward for surviving the instructors all week and not killing anyone as they learned control of the Bell UH-1 Iroquois, otherwise known as the Huey. “Yo Fish!” Frankie huffs, looking up from the table where he is positioned for his shot, knowing that the cocky motherfucker was just trying to distract him from his shot. He lands the next ball in the corner pocket and Smith owes him a hundred bucks. “It’s your turn to by rounds man!”

“In a hundred bucks!” He yells back, shaking his head. He turns back to the table, leaning down and calculating angles before he pushes the chalked-up cue forward to strike the cue ball into the striped three ball, pushing it into the corner pocket he had called earlier.

There's good natured hollering and jeering as you head toward the bar to grab another round for your friends as the flyboys give one of their own a hard time about something, and their inevitable good mood means it's going to take longer to squeeze past the pool tables to get to the bar. "Civilian coming through, boys. Make room!" You joke, trying to get them to move just enough to give you a tiny path through.

Rivera might be one of the best in the class, second only to Frankie, but he was a clumsy son of a bitch. It’s pure dumb luck that Frankie turns right as Rivera jumps back, his exuberant cheering causing him to back into the pretty woman that is edging her way through the sea of Army pilots in training. “Fuck!” Leaping forward, he manages to push past the overgrown child to catch her before she falls flat on her unstable - and cute - butt.

"You guys are really taking that whole sweep a girl off her feet thing seriously these days, I see." The one guy in the bunch with fast enough reflexes to keep you from hitting the ground is broad and strong, towering over you as he lifts you back up to your feet as easily as you snatched a falling piece of popcorn out of the air earlier. "Thanks, flyboy."

Frankie grins, quick and sharp, liking the way you punned your rescue. “Not but the best for damsels in distress.” He tells you with a wink. “But I’ll let you buy me a drink to thank me.” He’s teasing, knowing full well he won’t let you buy him a drink, although he would buy you one if you’ll let him.

"Hmmm." Pretending to consider him, you give the dimpled, smirking pilot a long look up and down before you nod. It's been a long day of carousing with people you're sort of half-friends with, and you could use a few minutes of getting hit on to revitalize your enthusiasm for the night before you go back to them. "Alright," you agree, aiming a smirk of your own right at him. "But just you, not the round you're supposed to be buying for all your buddies."

Chuckling, Frankie turns around and shoves the hundred dollar bill he had just taken off Smith back into the man’s hand. “There you go boys.” He crows. “Rounds on me and I’ll win another round some other time.” He tells him, knowing that Smith will beckon the pretty red headed waitress over to order some more beers and shots.

"So what's your poison, flyboy?" Having lived in this town for years, the tales of the Army pilots scouring their favourite dives for local girls to entertain for a night - or sometimes a whole weekend if the story gets embellished - are plentiful and entertaining. It's not the first time you've had run ins with them, if you could call this a run in, but it's the first time you've seen this particular guy and he is extremely easy on the eyes. Sidling up to the crowded bar together, you can feel the heat rolling off him in waves beside you. Like a summer night but in human form.

Frankie smirks, enjoying the nickname, even if ‘Morales’ is clearly marked on his uniform with a neat name bar. “Francisco, but you can call me Frankie or ‘Cat’ if you want.” He tells you. “What’s your name? I didn’t quite catch it when I was catching you.”

“I must have forgotten my manners with the lack of gravity,” you joke, giving him an amused smile before you tell him your first name.

“Beautiful.” He gives you a small wink. “Just like you.” After casually dropping the compliment, he turns towards the bartender who’s just arrived. “Drinks on my tab.” He tells him before he looks back at you. “What’ll it be?”

“I thought I was buying?” The question doesn’t hang in the air for long because the bartender is swamped, and you shake your head at the pilot beside you. “Rum and Coke.” You tell the bartender after another second, and you fish a few bills out of your pocket. “And two more margaritas for the two girls at the corner table by the windows.” You’ll happily kill a little time with this flyboy, and the bar has plenty of capable waitresses who can deliver the round you promised to buy.

Frankie shakes his head and pushes your money back towards you. “I’ll get it.” He tells you before ordering his own, a beer since he was under strict order to not embarrass the Army by getting shitfaced.

“You don’t have to pay for my friends.” Offering him the bill instead, you roll your eyes when he gives you an ’are you serious?’ look and tuck the money back into your pocket. “Thanks, then. From what’s left of my squad. I know they’ll appreciate it.”

“Girls’ night out?” He asks, craning his neck to look over at the table where the other two girls are watching you with devious little grins on their faces. Frankie tilts his head up in acknowledgement but then his eyes fall back to you. “Not putting a damper on things, am I?”

“Not at all.” You give your friends a wave and lean on the bar a little more. “We had a coworker’s graduation party this afternoon and we’ve been bar hopping ever since. Started out with ten of us and we’re the last three.”

“Three musketeers of trouble, huh?” He grins, matching your stance and swipes at his bottom lip with his tongue. Habit more than trying to draw your attention to his lips, but he doesn’t miss your eyes following the movement. “So which one are you?”

“Porthos, obviously.” Alright, he might be the only man in uniform to ever flirt with you using literary references, so you’re going to go ahead and give him bonus points for that even if he’s only ever seen the movies. He’s far too hot to not get bonus points for something. “Always up for a good joke, a drink, a flirt, all that good stuff. Nothing’s ever serious until it’s deadly serious and by that time I’ve already thought of three puns to use while kicking somebody’s ass.” That might be giving yourself a tad too much credit, but what is flirting if not selling yourself? Good sales need embellishment sometimes, that’s all.

“Really?” He lifts a brow and chuckles, enjoying the easy banter between the two of you. While going out was always in the hopes of meeting a gorgeous lady to perhaps take home - or in his case, get her to take him home - it wasn’t a requisite for a good night. However, his prospects for not sleeping alone just got better. “Aramis is more my personality but instead of religion, it’s flying.” He jokes. “Or maybe flying is my religion.”

“Seductions, poetry, and unwavering loyalty.” Clicking your tongue, the shoulder shrug you give him is more animated than just a dismissive little gesture. “That’s a hell of a way to promote yourself.”

“Well, I don’t like to brag…” The playful banter is cut off by the bartender bringing the drinks over and he sets all four in front of you. “I’ll deliver the drinks to the table.” He offers, giving you the choice of ending the conversation or continuing.

“Sure.” You can agree to that, despite knowing that your coworkers will try to chat him up and either tell him a ridiculous story about you or - much more embarrassing - tell him how long it’s been since you dated anybody and tease him about taking you home. Not that that would be a particularly bad thing. Not this guy. At least he has a brain behind that smirk.

Frankie nods, picking up the two margaritas and turning around to deliver them to the table. Buoyed by the fact that you aren’t following behind him, and still leaning against the bar as he holds the drinks up carefully to keep from being jostled as he winds through the crowd. “Ladies.” He coos as he sets them down. “Margaritas, compliments of your lovely co-worker.”

“I told you she was gonna get hit on next.” Your younger coworker complains, clearly hoping she would have gotten that honour. “You’re sure these aren’t from you and your buddies over there?”

“Annie—” The other woman swats at the friend’s arm playfully and offers the man in front of them a smile. “Ignore her. Thank you for the delivery, handsome. Be good to our girl, okay?”

Frankie chuckles and looks over at the swarm of servicemen still crowding around the pool table. “I’ll tell you what?” He points over at Smith. “You go up to that tall, goofy looking motherfucker right there and tell him ‘Cat said to buy us a round’, I’ll bet you that he’ll hit on you.” He looks at Annie. “And the one with the glasses? He’ll hit on you.” He predicts, knowing they are very much the other men’s type. “But at least you’ll get a free round.”

“See how gallant he is?” The older of the two women laughs and picks up her drink from where he set it in front of her and even Annie has to smile in agreement. “She,” your coworker leans in closer to the pilot conspiratorially and points at you across the crowded bar. “Loves reading and live music, and is inhuman without her morning coffee so make sure you remember that tomorrow.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Frankie winks at them and turns back to see you watching the interaction with an amused smile on your face. His grin gets a little wider and he keeps his eyes on you as he makes his way back to the bar. “Mission success.”

“Did they give you any tips or tell you an embarrassing anecdote?” You fully expect that of the two who are left, especially if Annie was feeling grumpy about not being flirted with.

“Just that I am to provide you with coffee in the morning if I expect human interaction.” He teases with a grin. “Which…same.”

“That…” A laugh escapes you and you shrug before taking a sip of your drink. “Is totally fair, actually. I can’t even get righteous about it.”

“Although maybe I need to be a little righteous.” Frankie picks up his beer and takes a sip of it. “They made it seem like I’m easy.” He huffs, pretending to be offended. “Like it’s guaranteed I’m going home with you tonight.”

“They’re hoping for a little water cooler gossip.” The way your wave it off is meant to be silly and a little dismissive, like of course your work friends just want the dirty details.

He snickers, leaning in again and glancing down at your lips. “Yeah?” He asks. “Does my little musketeer kiss and tell?” He tsks playfully. “Naughty.”

You nearly snort at the nickname, but have to admit that it’s weirdly cute. “Sometimes,” you admit, not missing the way his gaze drops to your lips before raking back up to your eyes. “If the kiss is worth talking about.”

“Hmmmm.” He pretends to take a notebook out of his pocket, miming writing in his palm. “Make kiss worth it.” He murmurs to himself. “Got it.” Looking up he flashes you a smirk. “Where?” He asks, knowing the question will confuse you.

“Where?” Tilting your head slightly, you pick up your drink to take a sip. Despite drinking on and off all day, you’ve had plenty to eat and plenty of nonalcoholic drinks, so it’s the question that’s confusing you and not booze making your brain float.

“Where do I kiss you to make it tellable?” He purrs.

“I thought you were trying to sell me on you not being easy?” The corner of your mouth quirks up in a smirk. Normally cocky isn’t really your thing, but he’s playful about it and you have to appreciate the hell out of that.

“Shit.” He hisses, rolling his eyes at himself. “Failed again.” He takes another sip of his beer and looks over at the table again, grinning when your friends are walking towards the pool table. “Your friends said you like reading. What genre?”

“The Three Musketeers is actually one of my favourites, but…” This question is always an interesting one for you to handle, but for no reason other than throwing caution to the wind, you decide to just tell him the blatant truth and see what his reaction is. “But most of what I read is romance novels, actually.”

“Nora Roberts type books or Anita Blake?” He asks, raising a brow and waiting for his answer. “Or maybe a little of everything?”

“A little bit of everything.” He knows who Anita Blake is? Hiding your impressed expression behind another sip of your drink, you actually laugh a little. “Depends on my mood.”

“Completely understandable.” He can see you are curious about how he knows about romance novels, so he decides that he will let you in on a secret. “I grew up with three older sisters.” He tells you easily. “Swiped their romances novels a lot as a teenager to see what they were giggling over.”

That makes sense, and you nod in understanding. “And did you learn anything interesting from your sisters’ books?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs slightly, tucking his tongue in his cheek. “Hopefully so. I think so.” He sends you another wink. “Enough to get myself in trouble.”

“Good trouble, I hope.” If he’s read smutty novels then he might at least know how to find your clit, and that is another big bonus points.

“Cops have been called; noise complaints filed.” He admits with a grin. “That kind of trouble.”

“Not that a flyboy ever brags, right Aramis?” Noise complaints makes you smirk, knowing that your roommates have been ‘entertaining’ their own dates quite a bit lately and making a fucking racket in your apartment. A little payback might be fun.

“I didn’t know a sleep study was right next door.” He defends himself. “Besides, we weren’t even that loud.”

“A sleep study?” You burst out with a deep belly laugh, not expected that twist to the story at all. “Well shit, I hope they had good dreams after.”

“I tried my best.” He promises with, grinning at your laugh and tossing back the rest of his beer. Your own rum and Coke is looking low but he doesn’t know if you want another. “Want another? Or something else?” He asks, nodding towards your drink.

“Depends.” Shifting your weight from foot to foot, you deliberately lower your eyes to the gorgeous Cupid’s bow of his bottom lip before raising them again to meet his gaze. It’s not something you do - not often anyway. And it’s definitely early in the conversation to be bringing it up, but he’s…too good to pass up. “It’s cheaper to drink my own booze, if you want to give me something to talk about.”

He takes a minute to process it, checking your eyes to make sure you aren’t more intoxicated than you seem. When he sees that you are relatively sober, he nods. “If you’re sure?” He asks. “I’d love to talk with you.”

“You wanna tell your boys you’re leaving?” Most men probably wouldn’t bothering checking in with their guys, but you want to give him the option because you’ll definitely be sending his name in a text to your coworkers in case he didn’t introduce himself to them. A girl can never be too careful.

“Yeah.” He nods and looks over at the group that are now standing around the tables more than playing. “You can tell your girlfriends you’re leaving.” He flashes you a grin. “Make sure they know your name in case I end up missing, chained to your bed.” He quips. “I’d still be AWOL.”

“If you end up chained to my bed, it won’t be until after I know your safe word and any hard limits.” You tell him with the cool air of someone who actually has restraints on their bed. A four-poster bed and some scarves are the closest you come, but it’s fun to tease.

Frankie laughs, tossing his head back and letting it bark towards the ceiling. “God, we’re gonna have fun.” He predicts gleefully. His hand comes around you, resting on your back. “Come on Madame Dom. Let’s go make sure you’re safe and the assholes don’t look for me later on.”

“Pay your tab, flyboy.” He’s eager, and that makes you grin a little wider. “Or else it will be the bar looking for you and not your friends.” From your pocket, you pull out your phone and wave it slightly. “I’m gonna see if my roommates are home.”

“Shit, that’s right.” Frankie turns around and catches the bartender’s attention with his credit card. He can’t believe he almost forgot about his tab. The commander of the flight school would murder him if he had left a bill at a bar in town.

“All set?” His signature is down on the receipt as soon as the bartender puts it in front of him, and it looks like both of your roommates are out with dates tonight, so your end of things is all good. Thank god for that laundry spree you’d done a few days ago - clean sheets on the bed is something nice to look forward to even when you sleep alone.

“Yeah.” Frankie hands the guy a tip in cash and nods to him. “You want to say goodbye to your friends before we leave?”

“Probably should.” If you slip out without saying something, Annie will go from pouting to worried-little-sister mode in a heartbeat and start blowing up your phone nonstop. Which honestly is not such a bad trait to have in a friend that you occasionally bar hop with.

“I get it.” Frankie tells you. “You can’t be too careful.” His sisters had frequently called him when they went home with someone, baby brother would pick them up, but he was also protective of his sisters.

“Would you mind teaching the other men of the world that? Because they seem to think that our safety is emasculating then somehow.” You roll your eyes but smile, letting it turn into a grin when his friends make a roar of noise at your approach. It seems like this isn’t an all-too-unusual occurrence for your flyboy, but that doesn’t bother you. It’s not like you’re looking for a lifelong commitment here, just a little fun. “I’ll see you guys Monday,” You tell your friends, giving them both hugs. “Get home safe.” With a wink, you add. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Annie smirks, looking over at Frankie with a raised brow. “So, nothing?” She teases, only slightly jealous now that she’s flirting with the tall one like Frankie had predicted.

“Be nice or you won’t get details,” you laugh, giving them both a quick hug before stepping back to rejoin your new friend for the evening.

Frankie had already told the guys he would be back to base sometime, leaving it at that. “So, did you take a cab or drive?” He asks, knowing that he didn’t drive here tonight.

“Our driver got swooped up by her girlfriend an hour ago.” Phone already in hand, you can practically call for an Uber blindfolded with one finger in this town. Having so many bars and so many military men and women meant that on Saturday nights it was always easy to call for a ride. “The ride is only about ten minutes aaaand…it looks like our ride will be here in three.”

“Let’s get some air.” Frankie suggests, cover in hand as he guides you towards the door of the bar. He holds it open for you and as soon as he steps outside, he is placing it on his head, covering the military haircut and checking to make sure the cover is exactly aligned as it should be.

The night has turned cool, providing a little contrast to the scorching hot day and to the over-warmth of the crowded bar from so much body heat. It’s just enough to make you shiver once in your sundress and sigh happily. “Perfect night. Just cool enough to want someone nearby.”

“It is a nice night.” The two of you slowly stroll along the walkway in front of the bar, the noise muted behind its walls, only to blast out when the door swings open. “Although I did just realize something.”

“Oh yeah?” If you thought he was secretly a creep or married or something you never would have invited him to your place, so you doubt there’s about to be some big dramatic reveal, but he has a good sense of humor to go with that handsome face and has been good with pick up lines and such so far, so you just tilt your head at him and lean against the wall of the behind you. “What’s that?”

“Well, I think before you take me home…” He steps closer to you and his hand slowly reaches for your waist. “I think you should let me kiss you. To make sure you think it’s worth it.” He murmurs with a small smile on his lips as he looks into your eyes.

“Well, I think I’m worth going home with,” you tease, but you can feel your breathing shallow out a little at he presses into your space. Lord he really is exceptionally attractive, Aquiline nose and single dimple giving him a unique look that you can’t resist. “But why don’t you make sure you agree with me?”

He chuckles quietly, reaching up to hold your jaw between his thumb and index fingers, changing the angle slightly as he starts to lean in. “That mouth is gonna be trouble.” He murmurs before he presses his lips to yours, soft to start before leaning into it more.

Baby, you have no idea. The reply is right on the tip of your tongue, but he steals it away. It’s gone as soon as he spreads his fingers to cradle the line of your jaw in his large palm, replacing all of your senses with just him as you hum into the kiss.

Like anything good, Frankie firmly believes in getting a feel for it. Just like he’s doing as he kisses you. Slowly caressing your lips with his tongue and coaxing it open, allowing him inside. Heat will follow, rushed neediness would be there. For now, he wants to taste you, sampling the rum and Coke from your mouth and groaning when you give him a small whimper.

When you can think again, you’ll be congratulating yourself on what an excellent decision it was to take a chance on this flyboy, because if he’s half as dedicated to fucking you later as he is to kissing you right now, he might actually knock that one night stand from spring break two years ago right out of the top spot in your sexual history book. He tastes like beer and summertime and feels like even more of a wall than the one your back is pressed up against. One arm easily winds its way around his neck, your other hand finding his hip to draw him in closer. Body to body. That’s what you’re craving right now.

Frankie shuffles closer, enjoying the scent of your perfume and the softness of your lips, your body, as he presses you into the wall. Another swipe of his tongue, curling around yours expertly and humming deep in his throat when you moan again. It’s only because he senses a car pull up behind him does he pull away, staring at you as he straightens up. “I think that’s us.” He murmurs, throat slightly raspy with hunger.

“Huh?” There are no thoughts whatsoever in your head for a minute, until you blink heavily and his lips curl into a smirk and you realize you can see him better because a car’s high beams are pointed at you. “Oh. Right.” Nice job, dumb ass. “So am I worth going home with, then?” The tease is right back in place when you shake off the haze and reach for the Uber’s door.

“I knew that the moment you landed in my arms instead of on your ass.” He jokes. “Question is, am I worth taking home?”

“Get in the car, flyboy.” You tell him unequivocally, pulling the door open for both of you. “Or we’re walking.”

He chuckles, very pleased with your sass and throws the driver a grin. “Yes ma’am.” He might have copped a small feel of your ass as you climb into the car, but he was only trying to help you with your sundress.

Not the kind of person to be overly prim, you have no problem staying close to him in the back of the car as it pulls back out onto the main road toward home. The taste of his lingers deliciously, making you want to press your lips together to hold on to the sensation of having his on them. “It’s a quick drive,” you murmur out loud, though you have no idea if you’re telling him or reassuring yourself.

“That’s good.” Frankie shifts towards you, sliding his arm around your shoulders and his other hand settles on your knee. “It’s a good time to tells you how pretty you look.” He murmurs in your ear. Fingers tapping lightly on your skin.

Making out the back of a stranger’s car is bad manners, you remind yourself on repeat when his mouth hangs so near to you that you can almost taste him again. “Pretty enough to eat?” You joke. Well, half-joke.

Frankie knows he’s got you interested. He chuckles against your ear, shifting slightly and drags the hooked end of his nose up your cheek. “It’s a good thing I’m fucking hungry.” He rasps.

“Goddamn.” You could practically melt into this seat, and one of your hands grasps his thigh, nails biting in the material of his pants. “Good.”

His hand slides up, just a few inches. “Yeah?” He hums, making sure that his breath fans over your damp skin. “I can eat your pussy tonight?”

Carefully, your hand creeps higher in his leg to match his advance on you. “Gotta show me what you learned from all those books you snatched.”

His lips brush over the back of your jaw. “Also learned that women like to be seduced right?” His index finger starts drawing a little circle into your skin, working higher on your thigh. “It’s a big part of foreplay. Show them that you want them?”

“Mmhmm.” It’s nearly a whimper, and you nod against him. “Never gonna say no to that.”

“Good.” He slides his fingers up between your thighs, just a bare inch from your covered cunt. “Want to make sure your pussy is dripping when I finally slide inside.”

“Trust me.” When you shift to keep from squirming, your hand on his thigh grips just below the heft of his hardening cock and the side of your hand brushing against it makes you feel like you’re about to see stars despite the fact that he’s barely touched you yet. “That’s not going to be an issue.”

He chuckles again, turning his head when the car starts to slow down. “Are we almost home, beautiful?”

“The next building down.” It’s mostly for the driver, who started pulling up to the wrong apartment complex, but also for the man beside you. The apartment would be spacious for a couple or small family, so for you and your two roommates it’s just right. But you’re prepared to thank every lucky star in the universe that neither of them is home tonight.

Frankie reluctantly pulls away, knowing the two of you will need to get out of the car in order to make it into this apartment of yours. The driver finds the right building and pulls to a stop. He opens the door and steps out, waiting for you to see if you need help. "Thanks for the ride, man."

The car is gone into the night almost as soon as you let yourselves into the front door of the building, and the stairs are blessedly abandoned when you get inside. “It’s just the second floor,” you tell him, motioning to the stairs. “The elevator hasn’t worked in years.”

“That’s no problem.” He shoots you a grin. “There aren’t any elevators in the barracks. Even the officer’s barracks.”

"You boys just get wings on your boots, huh?" You throw him a grin as you head up the stairs in the cramped lobby. "Every bit of sky is yours for the taking."

He chuckles and has to refrain from taking the stairs two at a time. “I mean, yeah.” He huffs. “Nothing like it. Best fucking feeling ever being up there.”

"I think maybe I need to get my ass up in a plane, because I'm pretty sure sex still tops every flight I've ever taken." You meet him on the top step and easily slip your hand into his outstretched one. "Third door on the left, flyboy."

Frankie walks dutifully to the door with your hand in his and stands to the side. Understanding why you let go of his hand, but still pouting slightly as you dig your keys out of your purse. The place is dark when you push inside, and you drop your keys and purse on the side table next to the door as soon as you're through so you can reach for him again. "Home sweet home."

Frankie hums and looks around before he grins at you, wrapping his arms around your body. “Show me your room.”

"This way." There isn't a chance in hell that you're going to move out of his arms. Instead, you go in the complete opposite direction, slipping your arms around his shoulders and pressing your lips to every bit of skin along his neck that you can manage as you tug him toward your bedroom.

Groaning, he remembers to yank his cover off his head and crush it in his hand while he moves with you. Eager to get into that bedroom of yours. It’s been a few weeks since he’s gone home with a girl and he wants to strip you down and make both of you feel incredible.

"Is it some kind of weird treason if all this ends up on my floor?" As soon as the door is shut behind you, you're fumbling blindly for the buttons on his uniform, far too interested into diving into a hungry kiss to actually try to be graceful.

Laughing, he shakes his head and tosses the cover on the floor. “Not at all.” He tells you. “It’s considered patriotic to throw it on the floor.”

"I'm suddenly feeling the most patriotic I've ever been in my life." It feels like his entire uniform is made of buttons though, and your uncoordinated fingers stumble over the obstacles enough times that you pout against his lips. The last thing you want to do is stop kissing him, but you also want to know what he's hiding under all that fabric.

His hands come over yours, stopping you. "Why don't you let me do it?" He asks, smirking at your frustrated grunts and the pout you give him. "That way you can enjoy."

“Fine…” It’s with a deeply dramatic sigh and an immediately playful grin that you relinquish control, letting him take over the pace and exactly what pieces of his uniform will come off when. You kick your sandals off and don’t hesitate to pull your dress over your head, smirking when he is now the one pouting as you back up to climb into your bed.

"Damnit." He hisses, ripping off his blouse and immediately pulling his undershirt off to show off the lean planes of his body. Frankie isn't ripped, God no, but as a twenty-give year old Army officer, he is in pretty fucking decent shape. The shadows of abs was enough for him, he wasn't going to starve or dehydrate himself to fucking achieve that look. Besides, from the hungry look on your face, you don't mind at all.

He's fucking beautiful. Like mouthwateringly perfect, as far as your taste in men. He's broad and strong and his massive hands could probably wrap around your throat or your thighs with equal ease. If you weren't already laying back in a pile of your own pillows with your fingers mere inches from your soaking wet panties, you would already be on your knees in front of him. But the view from where you are is your own personal striptease and you are doing your goddamn best to memorize every detail for masturbation fuel in the future.

"Touch yourself." Frankie orders, voice rough as he starts to unbuckle his belt. He smirks at your surprised expression, and he nods towards your cunt. "You want to touch yourself, do it." He orders again. "Right here. Shove your hands into your panties and touch your swollen little clit for me."

"Fuck." That wasn't at all the response you expected to get from him and your hand dives into your panties faster than you can think and the way you moan at that first touch of your own fingers to your clit makes his eyes go impossibly darker with want.

"Goddamn baby." He hisses, quickly unhooking and unzipping the starched dress pants and dropping them down, kicking them and his shoes off at the same time and leaving him in the black socks and stark white boxers that do nothing to hide the erection that is currently tenting the material. "Feels good, doesn't it?" He coos, eyes fixated on your cloth covered core.

"Gonna be better when it's you." It doesn't take much to shift on the bed, dragging your panties aside with the hand that isn't knuckle deep in your own wet pussy. "Take it all off and get the fuck over here, flyboy. Wanna touch you."

He chuckles and smirks down at you, hooking his thumbs under his boxers. "Yes ma'am." He teases, pushing them down and stripping them off before he stands tall again and lets you get a good look at him fully nude.

"Goddamn, baby." Giving his own words right back to him, you tug your bottom lip between your teeth and groan as your eyes rake up and down the length of his body. You're squirming in place, hips rocking on your own fingers, while you take in the sight of his thick cock already beaded with precum just begging to split you open.

Winking cockily, Frankie knows that you are eager. Kneeling on the bed and wrapping his fingers around your ankle to tug it slightly closer. Pulling you towards him as he crawls up to join you. “Like something you see, pretty girl?”

"Have a feeling I'm gonna fuckin love something I see." Fuckin love or love fucking - both are entirely true. He brings you closer, making it easier for you to lean in and nip at his bottom lip. "Gonna let me ride that cock after you eat my pussy?"

His lips chase yours for another kiss while his cock bounces against your inner thigh. "After your legs are up on my shoulders and I make you cum all over my cock." He promises, nipping back at your lip playfully, loving the fact that you like to use your teeth.

"So many big plans." Pouring a groan into his mouth, you let the kiss turn hungry for a long moment. It's a gorgeous distraction for just as long as it takes to drag your fingers out of your own slick and wrap them around his length.

Grunting into your mouth, he twitches under your touch, enjoying the firm grip you have around him. His own hands reaching for your panties, tearing them in his eagerness to get to your cunt. The ripping of the fabric making him grunt again.

The feeling of that fabric ripping against your skin - the sound of it, too - makes you absolutely whimper into his needy kiss. “Fucking hell, baby. Touch me. Please.” You beg, blindly searching for his hands to push at least one of them towards where you need him most.

The next chuckle is dirty, bordering slightly mocking as he starts to kiss down your jaw and nips your pulse sharp enough to make you gasp. His fingers don't give in, instead he spreads them, cupping your bare cunt and covering it with his palm. "Is someone needy?" He coos, teasing you with a little lick at the hollow of your throat before biting your collar bone and moving down another few inches.

“I’ll wrap my fingers around your cock again and we’ll both be needy,” you shoot back, laughing despite how badly your body is singing with desire.

"Baby, I'm gonna be needy until I'm balls deep inside this tight, hot little pussy." He murmurs, smirking up at you before kitten lick the tip of one breast before he wraps his lips around it.

The way you keen is messy and needy in all the best ways, and your head falls back on the pillow behind you. The only nuisance is that he doesn’t have any hair to speak of for you to run your fingers through or grab onto, leaving you to rake your fingernails against the base of his skull encouragingly as you moan for him. He loves the way your nipple responds. Tightening under his tongue as he drags it over it. Scraping his teeth across the firm peak and sucking it back in his mouth to tease it some more. Groaning around it before he pulls off with a wet pop and switches over to the other.

If somebody were at home besides the two of you, they would already be pounding on the door in annoyance at how vocal the two of you are together. Every sound that comes out of him is heavenly sin - egging you on and encouraging you to meet his enthusiasm. Not that you need the help, already panting and moaning under him as though you'd been starved of intimacy for years.

Frankie nudges at your breast, pushing at it as he sucks, enjoying the way you whimper and scratch at his head. Trying to pull him closer and push him down to where you need him all at the same time. He loves a woman who’s responsive, who’s nearly feral for his touch.

He keeps at your tits until you’re nearly growling, and the low chuckle he gives before starting to trail his mouth southward again has you on the edge of sanity. He practically has you about to cum just sucking on your tits, you might melt into the bed once he finally sets that tongue to work on your cunt.

His tongue dips into your navel, showing you exactly what his plan for your aching little hole is. He flicks his tongue deep and laves around his generously, lips twisted upward when your legs lift and your heels dig into his shoulder blades.

“Go ahead and gloat, flyboy.” You’ve always been the kind of person to have a sense of humor about sex, and especially when it’s something like this. He has every right to feel good about how worked up he’s gotten you, and he’s clearly enjoying the affect he has on you. That’s all a part of pleasure, in your opinion.

He chuckles and bites at the swell of belly over your mound, scraping his still smooth cheeks against it before he slides down again. "Not gloating." He hums, winking at you. "Just enjoying myself." He turns his head and kisses one thigh and then turns his head the opposite direction to kiss the other. "I like a woman who's playful and needy in bed." He confesses before he flattens his tongue and makes the first pass over your clit.

“Fuck!” He takes you by surprise, and your head nearly hits the headboard when it drops back, making you giggle. When that giggle turns into another moan, your fingernails find his scalp again with ease. “H—hopefully loud, too. Shit, baby.”

He just is moaning into your cunt in answer, burrowing his tongue deeper as his vocalizations resonate into your skin. He loves how loud you are, wants you to be louder for him. To give him everything you've got and fall apart. His hands spread your thighs wider, letting him reach more of you with unabashed enthusiasm.

Every word out of your mouth is the highest praise, every sound is pure sin that spurs him on in his quest to bring you the most pleasure he possibly can. His tongue is just as good - maybe even better - on your weeping cunt as it was weaving sinful promises in your ear earlier and the Army needs to invent a medal for pussy eating right away.

You taste incredible. Tangy and musky, making. him lick and suck on your folds, nibble on the lip of your cunt and groan when he plunges his tongue into your velvety softness and lets it slide through the fresh slick leaking from you. Pushing your hips back, lifting your legs up off his back so he delves deeper and spear his tongue upside you to curl up.

That tingling sensation that rolls through your entire body, sparking nerves out to the very tips of your fingers and toes and taking any possible sense of restraint you had with it. The rambling, cursing, barely coherent warning you manage to eek out before you cum the first time is punctuated by a cry of his name - the first time you’ve actually used it all night – but he has absolutely earned the plaintive wail of “Fuck, Frankie!” When you fall apart for him.

Hearing you, feeling you start to cum just makes Frankie double down. His tongue flicking and his jaw aching but he continues to eat you like a starved man. Groaning into you while his hips shift subtly against the bed, grinding against it for friction while his mouth is flooded with your essence.

If it was destined to be a one-orgasm night, it would still be a really fucking excellent night. Fortunately for both of you it absolutely won't be - but the boneless way you fall back into your pillows again after having arched off the bed speaks to exactly how hard you just came for him. "Jesus fuckin Christ." An indulgent, filthy giggle bubbles up out of you when he doesn't let up right away. "You're gonna kill me, baby."

He chuckles, pulling away and giving your clit a few slow, lazy licks as he watches you recover. You’re gorgeous this way and he admires the way your tits rise and fall. Slapping the outside of your thigh, he raises a brow. “Want another before I fuck you?” He offers.

It's such a loaded question, because you desperately want to cum as many times as he'll let you, but you aren't the only person in this bed right now. "Still want to ride you, gorgeous. If I cum that hard again on your tongue, I might not be able to make my legs work afterward."

Frankie grunts a small gawf and nods, lifting up to his knees and sliding off the bed. “Let me get a condom out of my wallet, then.” He wanted to keep you safe as well as himself, grabbing the pants off the floor and fishing his wallet out. The shiny foil packet in hand, he gives you a triumphant grin.

"Love a man that shows up prepared." You grin at him, crooking one finger to beckon him back into your bed. Of course you have condoms stashed in your nightstand but it's nice to see someone else stepping up to the plate of responsibility.

“Boy Scout.” He quips and climbs back into the bed with you. “Now….” He puts the edge of the foil packet in his teeth and rips it open. “I think I promised you an orgasm with your legs up on my shoulders while you cum all over my cock.”

"Shoulders like those were made to be leg rests," you tell him with a grin, managing to steal a kiss after he's tossed the foil packet in the general direction of your trash can.

Frankie bites his lip, rolling the rubber down his length and pumping himself a few times before he caresses your legs. Pulling them up onto his shoulder and shuffling forward to slide the head of his cock through your folds. “Ready?”

"Shit yes." If it would do you any good to grasp at him or push closer, you would. But from this angle and with one of his big hands grasping your legs, all you can really do is squirm. "Come on, baby. Fill me up."

He teases your clit for another pass before he lined up, the head of his cock pushing against the soft entrance to your body and keeps his eyes on you while he slowly sinks in.

If you hadn’t been dripping wet from the second he kissed you, it definitely would been a pinch to take all of him, being as thick as he is. Now, though, Frankie is fully seated to the hilt in your hot cunt with almost nothing more than a lazy roll of his hips, making you whimper and moan under him happily as he shifts into the exact position he wants.

Frankie’s fingers stroke your legs gently, almost tenderly as he waits for your body to relax. Letting him lean down and fold your legs over as he stretches his jaw and manages to plant a tiny kiss on your lips. His dog tags hang around his neck, dangling between you. “Want to hear you.” He reminds you softly, before he abruptly pulls his hips back and slams back into your cunt.

Volume isn’t exactly a problem, but the way he pushes the breath out of your lungs on that second powerful thrust means it’s a strangled moan that pours from your lips instead of more teasing words. One of your hands grasps for his hip when he plows into you again and the other paws at your own tits, twisting your nipple with the perfect to almost be painful alongside the pleasure.

The steady, hard thwacks of his hips against your thighs fills the room, along with the gasps and groans from the two of you. You are fucking tight like this, squeezing his cock before your walls ever clench in pleasure. “F-f-fuuuuck.” He hisses, each syllable accompanying another swing of his hips.

“God — fuck — feel so good, baby.” If he wants to hear you, you’ll damn well make sure that what he’s hearing is complimentary and true. “So fucking deep, oh my god —”

“Yeah?” He pants out, keeping up the brutal pace and making sure that each thrust bottoms out. One hand reaches your and squeezes your tit. “Want more?”

“Every — oh fuck—” A particularly punishing thrust shoves you further up you bed and you have to reach up to keep from knocking your head against the headboard of your bed. “Everything you got, flyboy.”

Frankie flashes you a grin, wicked and promising. “Roger.” If you had thought he was giving you his all, you were sorely mistaken. His dog tags swing wildly and beat against his chest while he ramps up his pace.

If you had thought about anything besides how fucking good his cock feels shredding up inside you for just half a second, you would have realized that you were issuing an accidental challenge. Now you can’t do anything but hang on for the ride, so to speak, and throw both hands over your head to avoid banging your head, and give him every ounce of vocal encouragement that he is definitely earning.

He absorbs your sounds, greedy for each one. Even stretching down to kiss you again. Steadily pounding into you before he slides his hand down to thumb at your clit.

You might shake apart with the force of the orgasm you can feel building, but you will happily give in to it. The wave that crashes through you has you practically squealing, with his name as the only word to be understood in all the praises and rambling as you fall apart underneath him.

Frankie doesn’t fuck you through it. Instead he lets your legs slide down into the crooks of his elbows so he can hover closer. Breath mingling with yours while he slowly grinds himself into your grasping and fluttering little hole. “Good girl.” He coos. “Fuck, you feel so good baby.”

“So good.” With him this close you can grasp his dog tags like a collar and meet him halfway for a messy, enthusiastic kiss. “Can’t wait to hear how gorgeous you scream my name when you cum.”

His chuckle is low and raspy, making him stop moving and focus on kissing you, still buried in your cunt.

It’s tricky to do when he’s completely overwhelming your senses, but you rock your hips with his and tighten your legs at his sides to roll him into his back with a victorious grin. “Your turn to enjoy,” you promise him, nipping at his lips while you roll figure 8s on his lap with his cock deep inside you at a whole new angle.

“God.” He doesn’t know what to grab. Your hips, your tits, his hands are everywhere. Pinching your nipples and cupping the soft flesh, while watching, alternating between your tits, your face, and the tiny space where he can see his cock disappearing inside you.

“That’s it, baby.” You hum, tossing your head back to let your tits stand out as you start to rise and fall on his length. “Feels so fucking big like this.”

His feet dig into the downy comfort of your bed, bracing them so that his can jerk his hips up. Driving up into you from the bottom and push deeper when you sit back down on his cock. "You like it." He huffs, pushing your tits together and flicking the peaked tips.

“Fucking love it.” There’s no way you’re about to deny that, especially not with the perfect way he’s got his hands on you right now. Every time you bounce on his cock his hands squeeze your tits a little tighter, and each tweak of your aching nipples is fantastic.

"Good." He huffs, biting his lip and trying to control his body as it reacts to the drag of your cunt in this position. Despite you cumming already, he wants you to cum again. Needs to see it before he gives in to his own need. "Look so good riding my cock." He pants out. "So fucking good."

Each time he bottoms out inside you, you swirl your hips in his lap, rocking downward to give you more momentum to bounce up again, and the combination has both of you moaning and panting unashamedly. You can’t remember the last time it felt this good to have someone inside you, and to be honest you might be a little bummed in the morning when he takes off never to be seen again. But at least tonight is fucking amazing.

"Fuck." He slaps your tit lightly and lets go, gripping your hips and rocking up into you again. Watching your heavy-lidded eyes as they flutter and your own hands drift over your skin. You look fucking amazing on top of him, he wasn't lying about that. "Come on baby, cum again." He coos. "You know you want to."

“Want me to — oh god, squeeze that thick cock, baby?” That’s all the encouragement you need for your hand to drift down to your cunt, fingertips rubbing tight circles on your clit that make you cry out into the dark night.

“Fuuuuuuuuck.” He hisses, gritting his teeth when you start to squeeze him. Both hands on your hips while you freeze over him, body locked up in pleasure and he thrusts up into you wildly now. “Fuck, fuck, fuck baby.” He growls, staring at you while his own orgasm starts to build up. “Fuck, gonna cum.”

“Fuck yes, cum for me.” He’s going to look spectacular as he falls apart, you just know it, and the hand that isn’t rapidly stroking your swollen clit reaches down to rake your blunted fingernails down his chest.

Frankie shudders, shouting out and starts to cum. Gripping your hips in a bruising hold, he surges up into you one last time. Gasping and moaning your name while he spills into the condom.

“Fuck, Frankie!” The combination of sensations is too good, and another orgasm rips through you like wildfire. Shaking with it, your cunt clenches down in his length even harder, milking every last drop of cum from him until you feel like you’re about to black out from the pleasure. “Oh my fucking god. So good.” You whine, panting for breath as the aftershocks finally start to subside.

Frankie grunts, pulling you down against his chest while he slowly grinds up into you. Finally just throbbing inside you as he strokes your back. “Holy shit.” He pants, feeling euphoric and exhausted.

“Right?” You can’t help giggling, the ethereal feeling swimming in your body making you feel light as air as you reach to kiss him.

“Yeah.” He chuckles, looking up at the ceiling when you kiss his jaw and hum. “Aren’t you glad I caught you?” He teases playfully.

“Goddamn right I am.” You agree without hesitation and rest your head on his chest. “This was the perfect way to thank you for it.”

He can’t disagree with you. He lifts his head slightly, kissing the top of yours.

“You…do you…wanna stay?” Heavy sleepiness is quickly setting into your body, but you’ll fight to stay awake long enough to drive him back to wherever if that’s what he wants. You would just as soon wake up beside him in the morning and maybe go one more round before having to say goodbye to him.

“Yeah.” Frankie has zero desire to return to his room at the barracks. It didn’t matter that officer’s didn’t have to share; it was still a barracks room. He kisses your head again. “But I got get rid of this condom first.” He murmurs. “You got a trash can in here, or bathroom?”

“Next to the bed.” You vaguely point to your right - his left - where your nightstand is and sigh quietly, happy that the little bubble of perfection you found tonight won’t be bursting too soon.

He smirks when you refuse to peel yourself off of him for a few more moments. Finally huffing and lifting off his cock while he holds the base of the condom so he can roll over and take it off. He huffs, always hating this part of condoms, tying it off and taking one step to put it in the trash before he climbs back in the bed. “Now you can lay back on me.” He promises, dragging you closer again.

“You’re comfy.” And you aren’t the least bit ashamed to acknowledge that, cuddling up to his chest again like a clingy cat after he shuts off the light.

“Hmmm, good.” He doesn’t even deny that he likes the warmth of you on him. His hand strokes your back slowly as you settle and sighs softly. “‘Night, beautiful.”

“G’night, sexy.” The smile on your lips will last until morning without fail, and hopefully your dreams will just be a replay of what you did in this bed before passing out.

******

Being in the military means that no matter how much he drinks, how tired he is, come zero six hundred - he’s awake. He’s actually been awake for half an hour, watching you sleep, curled into his side. You have this cute little pout and he figures you will be mortified when you learn you drooled on him. Except now, he’s gotta pee and he’s about to die of thirst. Slowly shifting, he carefully moves you so that you don’t wake up, allowing him to slide out of the bed.

There’s movement in the kitchen, the smell of coffee and cinnamon wafting through the apartment, and quiet chatting that pauses temporarily when a door creaks open and shut. “You’re up early!” A voice calls out, with clear teasing lining the comment. “Figured you’d sleep in after the porno you lived last night.”

He’s glad that he swiped his boxers up and put them on. He hadn’t expected to run into your roommates this early, but he just gives a shrug of his shoulders. Shit like this happens every once in a while. Instead of hiding or slipping into the bathroom and going back to your room, Frankie walks into the kitchen. “She’s still asleep.”

“Oh!” The petite blonde clutching her coffee cup bursts out into an embarrassed giggle and so does the redhead with her. Their jaws are practically on the ground, though, and they give each other an impressed glance. “Uh…hi! Coffee?”

“I’d kill for some.” Frankie flashes them a grateful smile, not at all embarrassed to be standing in front of them with nothing but his boxers and his dog tags on. He had routinely showered with thirty other men and shit in stalls with no doors in OCS, this was a piece of cake. “And a cup for her?” He asks, stepping further into the kitchen. “I don’t know how she drinks it.”

“Black.” The red headed girl grabs two mugs from the cupboard and hands them off to the blonde to be filled. “So…you guys sounded like you had fun…” The two girls exchange smirks that are meant to cover looks of concern.

“She’s still alive.” He promises, smirking slightly as he watches the blonde pour the coffee. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

“We’ll call you an Uber if it was just a one-night thing for you.” The blonde tells him matter-of-factly, as she sets two full coffee mugs down on the kitchen island. “She’s just…she’s been on the receiving end of a lot of bullshit lately, so if you’re not into her it’s easier if you just go.” The protective, sister-like energy is strong with these two, and it’s obvious they’re not trying to be rude. They just care about you.

If he’s irritated by the nosiness of the roommate, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he picks up a cup of coffee, the smaller one, and takes a sip. “Would be a shitty thing to do.” He comments are that first sip. “To just slink off. I’m not that kind of man.”

“Good.” That seems to mollify her, and she nods. “In that case the bathroom’s the next door on the right and there are cinnamon rolls about to come out of the oven.”

He grins and sends her a small wink, setting down the coffee. “Happy I passed the test.” He tells her. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll use the bathroom and then bring her that coffee.”

The second he’s gone, your roommates look at each other with what can only be described as awe, and stifle some shared laughter. “Oh my god she wasn’t kidding…he’s…gorgeous.”

Frankie uses the bathroom, washes his hands and comes back out to go back into the kitchen. The giggling stops again, and he just picks up the coffee mugs and throws them both a knowing smirk. “I would probably play some music or something.” He warns them with a wink before he trots back down the hallway.

“We’re leaving for work!” They call back, and he can hear the sound of a metal tray clanging on its way out of the oven as your bedroom door shuts behind him.

Frankie chuckles, seeing you starfished across the bed and he sets down the coffee cups on the dresser. It wasn’t something that the two of you had talked about, so he decides that waking you up with oral isn’t a good idea. Instead, he crawls back in the bed and manages to nudge you over so he can stretch out beside you.

“Mmmm…” From the edges of your fading dream, you can feel a hand stroke your back and you sigh right before your eyes open. “Morning…”

“Morning.” Frankie hums, keeping his hands solely on your back instead of drifting to other, more interesting places. “I have coffee for you.”

“Sexy and thoughtful.” You snuggle closer to him for a second before your eyes pop open in dismay. “My roommates came home last night, didn’t they?”

“Sorry.” Frankie winces, hearing your unhappy tone. Maybe you didn’t want them to know? Even if you had called from the bar. “I can get a ride and take off.”

“God, were they that bad?” Fully awake now, you tuck a blanket around your body and look up his frown with concern. “They just tend to get a little…protective. I was going to apologize if they said something rude when I wasn’t there to tell them to knock it off.” Of course, they were only that way because of the shitty luck you had had with guys you brought home, and you so very much don’t want Frankie to end up as just one more of those guys.

“No, they were fine.” He promises. “I just figured you weren’t too happy they knew you brought someone home.”

“No, no, nothing like that.” You shake your head adamantly. “I’m glad you’re here and I don’t give a fuck who knows it. The reason I asked them to give us privacy last night was so I could be as loud as I wanted without them giving me shit about keeping them up. Because they both work this morning. That’s all.”

“They said they’re leaving for work.” He hums, mollified that you don’t want him to leave. He leans in and drags his nose across your cheek. “So, we’ll be alone again.”

“Coffee can wait.” The decision comes with a deep hum, and you easily wrap your arm around his waist to drag him under the covers with you.

“Thought about waking you up with my tongue.” He confesses, kissing along your jaw. “But I didn’t know how you would react to that.”

“Next time.” He nudges you over onto your back and you nearly purr at the early morning affection. The offer is really just a hopeful one. Hopeful that this morning won’t be the least you see of him. “Next time, you definitely should.”

“Yeah?” He nibbles on your collar bone and hums happily. “I can do that.” He slides his hand down to slot between your thighs. “Could always pretend you are asleep right now.”

You grin, giggling a little as you immediately shut your eyes and slump back in your pillows dramatically. “Who’s pretending? I’m totally still asleep,” you tease.

“Good girl.” Frankie grins and ducks his head under the covers, moving his way quickly down your body and gently pries your legs apart like he’s trying not to wake you.

Two of your favorite words, but you don’t say a thing as he shifts you into the position he wants. Being woken up like this is one of those things that you never have asked for or suggested, especially because you have a track record of picking guys that don’t stick around for long.

“Fuck.” He groans quietly at the sight of your swollen and puffy lips, slick from the nights activities and fresh arousal coat your skin and he hums. “Someone’s have naughty dreams.” He teases quietly, bumping your clit with his nose before he kitten licks it softly.

You can’t help humming a little, letting the sound be something like a non-communal sleeping sound as best as you can. You had had very naughty dreams about all the things you wanted him to do to you - or you to him - and you’re already about to check one off the list. What’s not to love? He chuckles, kissing your lips and starts to softly press the flat of his tongue against your folds. Gently treating your cunt like it is the most delicate treat, completely opposite from his treatment of you last night.

A soft, indulgent sigh parts your lips and you swear you melt a little deeper into the mattress with pure relaxation. He's as gentle as a spring sunrise this morning and when you shift underneath him it's akin to the stretching of a lazy cat instead of the frantic, needy squirming of last night. His tongue flutters and softly flicks over your swollen folds, groaning slightly and urging your thighs open a little more. Still pleased with how well you are playing at being asleep as he gathers your clit in his mouth to suck softly.

Not wanting to ruin the game, you swallow a whimper and keep your eyes shut tight. As much as you want to hear him growl his approval at your fingernails on his scalp again, letting him enjoy and explore so gently is its own kind of beautiful.

This is everything that last night wasn’t and yet it doesn’t feel any less or more. It just feels like another layer of this time with you. The contrasts match so beautifully. He moans quietly, sliding his shoulder to the side so he can ease two fingers into you.

There's no way to mask this moan, or the way your hips lift off the bed ever so slightly to go along with the motion of his hands. If you weren't awake before you most certainly would be now, and the feeling of Frankie's thick fingers stretching you out so lazily is amazing.

He hums, pleased at your reaction and he pulls his lips away from your clit with a soft pop. “‘Morning.” He teases before he resumes his ministrations.

"Good--" As soon as he dives back in, the phrase is broken by a plaintive sigh. "Fuck, morning, baby." As frantic, needy, and desperate as the two of you were last night, this morning is nothing but lazy and indulgent and it is absolutely glorious.

He chuckles and curls his fingers up slowly, deliberately. “Want you to cum for me, again.” He murmurs, tracing his name into your cunt with his tongue.

"Yes – fuck – yes, sir." He's like an expert musician, plucking the strings of your pleasure to absolute perfection without really even needing to practice.

Frankie gets call ‘sir’. Due to his rank, he gets called sir at least a hundred times a day. But the way you say it has him moaning, his fingers sharpening their curl just a bit and the hand on your hip gets tighter, like the way that sounds coming out of your mouth.

“Oh fuck, that’s it, baby — gonna cum!” For as gentle as he has been, it’s still like a freight train. Rolling through every inch of your body with the same power that last night’s demanding pace had, except this time it almost makes you float. It’s like Frankie’s fingers and tongue are keeping you afloat in his very own ocean of pleasure and why in the hell would you ever want to be anywhere else.

He growls in pleasure. Happy that you are nearly bowing up off the bed in pleasure and he slowly works you through it. Wringing your body if every ounce of pleasure it can gleam from his tongue. “Fucking hell, Frankie,” you pant, grasping at breaths as he slowly lets you down again off the cloud-like pillow of bliss.

Chuckling, he kisses your clit one last time and crawls back up the bed to lay down beside you, throwing a leg over yours. “Good?”

“Good?” The incredulity in your voice is marked by a throaty laugh. “Yeah, flyboy. Extremely good.”

“Well, the old motto of the Army is ‘Be All That You Can Be’.” He jokes

“You’re doing amazing, baby.” You promise him with a chuckle. “When…um, when do you have to be back?” It’s a Sunday and you know fuck all about what an average day in the military is like, but all you really want to know is how much longer you’ll get to savor having him right here beside you.

“Flight training at zero five thirty on Monday. So, I can’t drink tonight.” He explains, thinking you might want to go back to the bar.

“That’s fine.” Tipping your head back so your chin rests on his chest, you crack a smile that warms through your whole body despite being nervous at the question. “Does that mean you might want to hang out today?” He could easily have told you he had plans or obligations, but he didn’t, and you can feel the hope swell in your chest.

He pauses for a moment before a slow smile slides across his face. “I think that would be fun.” He tells you, sliding his hands up and down your back. “Your roommates said there were cinnamon rolls, but we could always go get breakfast, swing by base and grab a set of civvies for me.”

“What are your feelings on shared showers?” The sparkle in his gorgeous brown eyes reads as delight and you can feel a rabble of butterflies erupt in your belly. “There’s a new diner on Main Street that I’ve been dying to try. My treat.”

He huffs and pokes his lip out at you. “Now my momma would beat me if I let a lady pay the morning after.” He tells you with a grin.

"You're gonna let me pay for something eventually." You tell him in a tone that brokers no protests, but the sunny grin on your face says it's not a serious matter in the least and you lean in just barely to kiss the pout off his perfect lips. "Is that a yes?"

“Maybe.” He concedes, with his own grin on his lips. “Why don’t we try to share that shower and then we will see where today takes us.” He offers, feeling like he is asking something more serious than just a day after a one-night stand.

Sitting up beside him in your own bed, with your sheets disheveled and his gorgeous face looking up at you from a pile of pillows, you reach out to brush your thumb along his jaw and smile harder than you possibly ever have in your life. "Wherever that is? I hope it's someplace worth talking about."

Frankie smirks, sending you a playful wink. “You’re with a flyboy.” He quips. “Of course, wherever it is will be cloud nine.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @spideysimpossiblegirl

[fandomfluffandfuck]

okay… okay, s, okay. my head is full of so many thoughts. so many thoughts about college!a/b/o!evanstan…

(and please don’t feel pressured to answer if you are busy with school i don’t wanna be a distraction!!)

- chris constantly being so horny when he and seb first get together that seb just straight up telling chris that he is willing to be a human fleshlight for him

- chris taking seb up on the offer

- seb being fucked within an inch of his life every time that their schedules line up

- chris saying that he has to kiss seb’s hole better because it just stays wet and a little puffy from constantly being used

- seb becoming a blow-job queen, he can literally get chris off in 45 seconds but chris would never admit to that… seriously, that thing he does where he tongues chris’ slit makes him see stars, what the fuck else is he supposed to do??

- chris’ ruts and seb’s heats start to sync up

- after nights of particularly rough sex, seb will have to shift in his seat in class because his ass is so sore

- chris starting to grow facial hair because he wants to look more “grown up”

- seb teasing chris about the facial hair but actually loving it because of the beard burn he gets while chris eats him out

- cock warming while they’re “studying”, but they actually get nothing done

- scenting each other, kissing and sucking on each other’s scent glands after particularly difficult days

- cuddling. so much cuddling.

- what used to be seb’s part of the dorm is now perpetually a nest

- being tangled up in each other constantly

- seb becoming more comfortable in his sexuality and more open to exploring kink

- seb himself becoming insatiable, no thanks to chris

- love. so much love, they’re both so tender 😭😭

evanstan omegaverse au origin here and continued here

Yes yes yes haha, I love that we've infected so many people with them lol! I would love to fully, fully respond to this but, yeah, you're right I'm busy unfortunately. Not that this isn't great!

- That first point 👀

- I can just see Chris, baby alpha Chris, a little distressed by how fucking intense his need for Seb is and how much he constantly wants the omega. I mean... he is a college student. Peak libido time lol. Chris then confesses these urges to Sebastian, thinking it might help or he might feel the same way only for Sebastian to shyly offer, "why don't you then, alpha?" Exposing his throat to the other man just to show him how much he's okay with being used like that...

- YES of course. It's what he deserves 😤

- I would have to say... after the first time of being rimmed... I don't think Seb would mind having his poor hole kissed better regularly.

- Y E S , all that practice with blow jobs and Seb's oral fixation meeting in the middle? Oh boy, that spells danger for Christopher.

- They do! And it is incredible for them. Each their first times having their cycles fully sated because they have a partner to match them 😏

- Mmm, yeah, I bet he does. Both Seb and Chris have dark circles under their eyes and keep glancing at each other and Sebastian is shifting in his seat and Anthony in class with them, hissing at them low enough that the Prof can't here, threatening to fucking walk out of the motherfucking class if they don't quit. Now is not the time.

- Aw, I actually really like that. Chris wants to not get mistaken for an overgrown high schooler with his baby face and pouty lips and so he's like, eh, a beard should fix that. Sebastian plops himself in his lap, sideways, scratching his jaw and chin with his blunt nails more and more when it starts to come in, purring about how handsome he looks or, yeah, teasing him about it.

- BEARD B U R N Sebastian practically has a kink by the end of the term ;)

- Cock 👏 warming 👏 while 👏 they're 👏 studying 👏

- Yes yes yes, all the scenting possible. Always. Its annoying to everyone else, they always just smell like the other person, not like themselves lol

- C u d d l i n g , and precisely~

- Their dorm room is practically one big nest. Aw. Puppy love at its finest.

- "being tangled up in each other constantly" HEART 👏 EYES 👏

- Oh, yes, please. I love some kinky exploration for sure.

- Haha, yeah, Chris is often like [affectionately] what monster have I made? Toward Seb because he wants it all the time and he is shameless in breaking out the puppy dog eyes as he begs for his cock, sliding onto his knees, kissing Chris' own knee as he claims his mouth feels empty, too empty, and he misses his knot. He wants it inside him. Soon, pleeease!

- And of course,

Love.

Thanks for the ask, sweetheart!

[stayatiny]

The King ~Chapter Four

Pairing(s) King!Werewolf! Bang Chan x Human!Reader Series Warning(s) – Swearing, Violence, Wolf Dynamics, Smut (in later chapters) and along with others that will be added later. Chapter warning(s) – Lots of Swearing, almost fight A/N – Thank you to everyone who has followed, like and reblogged. I feel someone shaking me awake. I crack one eye open to see Hannah. She’s in everyday clothing. “Hey, Y/N, its time to get up its 10am.” I sit up, rubbing my eyes. “Your brother brought you some clothes. I'll help you get dressed if you need to,” she said. I throw my legs over the side of the bed. I was able to stand on my own and put weight on my ankle. “Good it looks like you can get around on your own now. But do you still need me to help you?” I shook my head. “No, I think I got it. But if I need you, I’ll call you,” I say grabbing my clothes. She nodded, happily and sat on the bed. I was still hobbling not really wanting to put weight on it yet but some. My brother brought me a t-shirt and jean shorts and even some sneakers. I finish getting dressed and handing my dirty clothes to Hannah. Jay even thought about packing a scrunchie for my hair. He knows me so well.

“Chris wanted to make sure that you ate before meeting with him. He knows that you have a lot of questions.” I nod and follow her into the dining room. She linked her arm with mine. I used to roam around these halls with her and Chris when we were young. Before our parents died, our family were the closest nobles to the royal family. So much so that us kids would play together. We hung out and played together constantly. But when I turned twelve, our parents were killed by the king. “Our chef made some French toast and hash browns. I think those are still your favorite, right,” she asked. I nodded. I’m surprised she remembered that. Although I was twenty now, I still eat like a child. “Good.” We continued in silence as she opened the dining room door to see Jay and Chris sitting at the table. “Good morning, Y/N,” Jay said letting me sit by him. I sat quietly while they talked. Chris smiled at me as I sat across from him. I half smiled back. “Did you sleep well?” I nodded looking around the dining room. Nothing really changed except the wall color was now a pale cream color instead of navy blue. I looked over at Chris. He was in a plain white shirt now, but I noticed some stray blood on his face. It was too small of a splatter to be his. I shudder to think on what happened to the suspect. I had heard that his three years as a king he is quite brutal when it came to crimes against his people human or not. Hannah pointed it out to Chris as he wiped his face. “Good. Food should be ready soon and then we can talk, okay?” I took a sip of water. “Okay.” We ate while talking about the olden days of our childhood like nothing ever changed. “Okay, I have to go to work. Chris will make sure that you get home alright?” Jay hugged me and kissed my forehead. Great alone again with Chris… “Y/N, come with me.” I hear Chris say. He grabs my wrist lightly and pulls me into his office once again. It brought back the memories of me finding out the truth a pang of guilt and sadness surging through me. “I’m sure that you have a lot of questions.” He sat in his chair waiting on me to say something. “Just one. Why?” He let out a sigh. He got up and stood in front of me leaning on the oak desk. “From what we gathered, they knew that you wouldn’t have a normal life and they though that killing us would make it better for the humans. But in all honesty, it probably would have led to another war between the two. I don’t blame them for wanting better for you,” he explained. “Why am I just now finding out about this?” Chris frowned. “You should have been told when it happened. I wish someone had I feel like you would have been around more had you known the truth.” I feel myself blush. I do have to admit that I did have a crush on him when I was young. “Maybe I would have. Everything is so different now that you are king.” He frowns again. “I’m still the same guy just with power and not as awkward.” I chuckle. He was. I was getting ready to hug him when fucking Miranda busted through the door. Motherfucker… “Chrisy, I was so worried about you,” she said going to hug him, pushing me out of the way again. I roll my eyes. Hannah followed in after her. “Miranda, leave my brother alone and go home. Also how did you even get in the castle grounds they’re off limits to the public right now?” Miranda smiled. “My mother works for yours remember so she let me in to see Chris,” she said putting her hands on her hips. She glared at me. “What is she doing here then,” she huffed and then pointing to me. I clenched my fist and my teeth. “I mean considering Y/N’s brother works here and my brother was protecting her last night. I also believe that’s its none of your fucking business to know why she’s here. Their family is still one of the most powerful families out there so I would watch who you’re talking too.” Hannah is in her face. Holy shit I forgot how kick ass she is. “At least my family didn’t commit treason.” Before I knew what I was doing. I lunged forward but Chris grabbed me holding me by the waist. “She’s not worth it, Y/N,” Chris

whispered in my ear. I kept trying to get after her. “You need to leave,” Hannah said, looking like she’s ready to her herself. Miranda flicked her hair back. “Fine then but wait till everyone hears that the human is hanging with the big dogs again.” She left out of the room leaving the tension at a high. Chris still held me in case I went after her. “Are you alright now?” I looked at Chris. I fixed my shirt that had raised from him grabbing me. “Yeah I’m fine,” I huffed. Not really but I didn’t want to end back up into his arms again. “I’ll tell mother that Miranda was let in. Why don’t you take Y/N back home? I’m sure she has work tomorrow,” Hannah said, looking to her brother. Oh yeah right full moons a thing. “Right. I’ll walk you home. Do you still know the back way?” I nodded as we left the office. We would take a lone path behind the castle that led to our house. I was tired and ready for a hot shower and my bed. Chris led to the path it was only slightly overgrown with colorful flowers, weeds, and vines. Even though grown over the ghost of a path still remained prominent. “It looks so different out here. But there again it has been years since I’ve been through here,” I said then letting out a nervous chuckle. “Yeah I didn’t realize how beautiful the flowers are through here,” he says smiling. I blush lightly. He grabbed my hand leading me down the path. “You know as kids we were pretty wild, right?” I looked up at him and nodded. “Yeah we were even up until…you know. We were always in trouble.” Chris nodded as we neared our back gate. As we reached my house, Chris stopped me from going in his eyes changing color. “What’s wrong Chris?” He pushed me to the side of the house gently. He points to the door. Its slightly ajar but I never open the back door “Stay here. Someone’s been in your house besides your brother,” he explained and headed in. My hearts starts to pound while waiting for Chris to come back. After a lifetime, or about 10 minutes he comes back out. “You’re gonna wanna see this,” he says following me into the house. Everything was still in place until I got to the basement door. I stared at Chris. He gave me a nod letting me its okay. “What did you keep down here?” My brows knitted together that’s when it hit me. “When my parents papers and journals were seized when the assassination attempt was made what ever was left my uncle put down in the basement,” I said flipping on the light. As light filled the room, I see everything thrown around papers, documents, even our baby pictures laid scattered on the floor. Chris bent down to look at what’s left of the papers. “There’s nothing here but old grocery lists, drawings you and your brother did, and receipts. What ever it was they didn’t find it and left.” I nodded. But what were they looking for?

[precursorgod]

Robin Batson (no relation to Batman and Robin)

“If one more person goes ‘Hey, you should change your name’ I’m gonna mcfuckin’ lose it. Gonna become a Rogue. Gonna become No-U-Change-Your-Name-man. That’s my— that’s my Roguesona. No-U-Change-Your-Name-man. Makes people change their names at gunpoint. Nyehehe, you’ll never catch me alive, Batman! And my first victim will be the other Robin. I was here first, motherfucker! I’m not going through all the trouble of a legal name change just because ten, fifteen years ago some teenage fuckwit went ‘Oh, you know what would be a great idea? Making a common given name my superhero codename’!”

Bruce Wayne blinks down at me, nonplussed, as one does when some rando plops down in the seat next to them at a funeral wake and starts ranting about becoming a Rogue.

“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure, Mis…?”

He trails off, uncertain of what title to use. Gender is a social construct.

I flip my ponytail over my shoulder and stick my hand out. I smile.

“Hi, I’m Robin Batson. No relation to the vigilantes Batman and Robin. Yes relation to the corpse in the coffin and also your newly discovered biokid. Uh, relation to your newly discovered biokid; you and I, share nothing but space. And words too now, I guess.”

Recognition dawns on his face. Bruce breaks into a big himbo smile as he grasps my hand and shakes it enthusiastically.

“Ah, Dotty’s oldest! I was wondering when I’d get to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you!”

Dear gods, this man really does give off overgrown puppy energy. Enthusiastic husky vibes. If I didn’t know what I did, I’d also think someone insane if they tried to tell me Bruce Wayne was Batman.

“All bad things, I hope. I’ve heard lots about you too, Brucie.”

I’ve surprised him with my overfamiliarity. Teenagers don’t typically call people twice their age by a diminutive right off the bat. Heh, bat.

“Of course not! Dotty had nothing but good things to say about you. I’m sorry you couldn’t be there for her final moments.”

Ooh, is that passive-aggressiveness I hear? Why weren’t you there for her final moments?

Dorothy “Dotty” Batson, née Chang. Married to and widowed by Benjamin Batson, older brother of C.C. Batson, father of Billy Batson aka Captain Marvel. She would have taken my cousin in after he was orphaned, but as a single mother with two kids and related only through marriage, CPS wouldn’t let her. Two months ago, she was told she only had two months to live. One week ago, she died.

“Ah, well,” I shrug. “That’s life. Never where you need to be when you need to be. You know how it is.”

He does know how it is. I can almost see the flashback to Jason’s death playing in the man’s head.

“Robbie.”

It’s my younger sister. Half-sister. Finnley Batson. Black hair, hazel eyes, eleven years old. Like me, a halfie. Our asian mother had a thing for white guys. Her eyes are red-rimmed and her nails are ragged. She’s followed by twenty-something Dick Grayson and thirteen-year-old Damian Wayne. Two months ago, I received a message from Dotty informing me she’d told my sister about her biodad. I’d known from the start. It’s not every day someone you know has a breakdown about having been accidentally knocked up by a billionaire during an earlier breakdown. Check your condoms, people.

“Finny.”

I take off my sunglasses and hook them in my collar. With black hair and blue eyes, I probably look more like the stereotypical Wayne child than she does. The only red rimming my eyes is from the scarlet eyeliner I applied earlier.

I haven’t cried since I was a baby. All my tears were used up mourning my first life, probably.

“Sorry I’m late.”

Finny explodes.

“Where were you?! I sent that email asking you to come back two months ago! Mum held on as long as she could! She wanted to see you one last time! She wanted you to come back! She believed you’d come back in time. But you didn’t! You never do!” She sniffs and wipes her eyes roughly. “Did you care about her at all?”

I avert my eyes. I was fond of Dotty, but I never could let her be my mother the way she was Finny’s mother.

“Oh my god. You don’t.”

Finny’s crying again. Her hands are clenched and her face is flushed.

“You don’t care about her, you don’t care about me, you don’t care about anyone but yourself! I hate you! I hate you I hate you I hate you! I never want to see you again!”

What am I supposed to say to that?

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

Not that, apparently.

Finny screams and storms off. Damian throws me a glare and runs after her. Dick lingers. I put my sunglasses back on.

“Dick Grayson.” I nod at him.

“Robin Batson.” He nods back. There’s a strange look on his face when he says my name. Dick glances towards where Damian is comforting(?) Finny. He’s rubbing her back while leading her to a quieter place and sending me nasty looks. If looks could kill… Are double funerals a thing?

“She doesn’t mean that,” Dick tells me. I shake away the image of a double decker coffin and tune back in. “She doesn’t hate you. She’s just grieving. Give her a little time.”

I blink at him. I tilt my head.

“Whoa dude,” I say. “Ever heard of Eldest Daughter Syndrome?”

“I do not have Eldest Daughter Syndrome.” The denial is so quick in coming that there’s no way he’s not been told that before, many, many times.

“Do.”

Cassandra Wayne pipes up from the left, scaring the shit out of me. I clutch at my chest.

“Dear gods, where did you come from?” I wheeze.

“Sorry.”

She’s not sorry.

“I do not have Eldest Daughter Syndrome,” Dick repeats.

“You kinda do, Dick,” Tim Drake(-Wayne?) says, from the right. Him (my favourite boy!!!), I saw coming.

This is more canon characters than I am willing to deal with in my immediate vicinity. I stand up abruptly.

“Good chat,” I announce. “Thanks for looking after my sister, please continue to do so in the future, I don’t live in Gotham—or anywhere, really—but I’ll drop by once in a while to see Finny so make sure your security doesn’t shoot me on sight or whatever. See ya.”

I turn and walk straight into my social worker. Yelena Orlova glowers down at me.

“Robin Batson.”

Aw, fuck.

“Oh my god, what is that thing?!” I shriek, pointing over her shoulder. She doesn’t fall for it (again) but it does distract her momentarily. I bolt.

“Stop! Don’t let him—”

“Her!” I yell, dodging a guest.

“—her—”

“‘Him’ now.” I duck under someone’s arm.

“—him—”

“Whoops, ‘her’ again.” A security guard tries to straight up tackle me. I leapfrog over him.

“Robin!” Yelena finally settles on. “Don’t let Robin escape!”

That’s not an uncommon thing to hear yelled in Gotham. But in broad daylight, at a funeral wake, by a short blonde in a pencil skirt and heels?

I cackle. “Suck my dick, CPS!”

The wake is being held on the sixth storey of a hotel. I pass Finny and Damian in an alcove and backtrack while rummaging through my pockets.

“Hereasouvenirpleasedon’tbemadatmeokayBYE!”

I return to running after tossing a package crudely wrapped in newspaper at my sister. I hope she likes it. She yelps and fumbles it, but it’s safely caught by Damian.

I’m nearly at the stairs when suddenly:

Cassandra Wayne.

Where the fuck did she come from?

I scream as I grab a nearby doorway and launch myself back in the direction I came from. I zoom past Finny and Damian again.

Is that Jason fucking Todd?

The man nearly fills the corridor. His feet are firmly planted on the ground and his arms are loose at his sides. Around, under, over, through; whatever I pick, I’ll be caught. With the Red Hood in front of me and Black Bat behind me, there’s only one option left.

I jerk left, run up the wall one, two steps, and launch myself back first through the window on the right. Through the shattered glass falling with me, I see Cassandra, Damian, and Jason reaching for me, eyes wide and panicked. Finny, standing further back, just looks exasperated.

I twist in the air. I land, roll, and pop right back up, hands in the air like a gymnast.

Being invulnerable is great!

I spin and bow to my adoring (horrified) audience with a flourish.

The window I jumped through is near the windows of the room the wake’s being held in. Dick is half out the window, only held back by the hand Bruce has clamped onto his shoulder, and looking incredibly pale. Oops. Didn’t mean to trigger him.

They’re not the only ones looking at me. People in the hotel, people in the street, people in the nearby buildings; a lot more people than I thought witnessed my little self-defenestration.

More importantly, Yelena is also watching me.

“You’ll never catch me alive, CPS!” I say, flipping the double bird.

She mouths something that looks a lot like ‘We’ll catch you dead, then’. I’d like to see her try.

I shake the glass debris off my clothes, give my audience a two fingered salute goodbye, and run off in a random direction.

[damn-stark]

The Trouble ch.4

Jesse x fem!reader

A/N- sorry it took so long :( I do hope you all like it though..let me know what you thought?!

Warning- violence, ANGST, light fluff interactions, talks of blood, swearing

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

———-

“Look at his mess.” Jesse groaned, you followed his line of sight to watch for yourself what it was he was complaining about, instantly coming to the welcoming view of the broken street. Huge craters decorated the street, feet of rain water filled them all almost to the brim, while overgrown trees aligned in the areas where the asphalt had still managed to stand, cars and trucks that got left behind at the start of the outbreak were left for dead and left to block the areas where the ground was sturdy and filled with water or trees.

You would note that it’s a pretty sight, all the trees and fog, with the Ferris wheel in the distance, but it's all the mess in front of you, forcing all of you to take a long way around that took the illusion away. Forced you to continue with these continued long uncomfortable silences, while all you wanted was for them to stop. At least until you could unscramble your thoughts.

Ellie pulled out her very cartoonish map whilst she pointed to the area that was physically across the mess that blocked your path; “the aquarium. It’s right next to that Ferris wheel.”

You sigh and tear your eyes away from the map to look at the view ahead one last time before following Jesse off the truck. “Let’s hope Tommy has that same info.”

Jesse waited for Ellie and you to catch up, his gaze focused on you with hundreds of words stuck at the top of his tongue just waiting to be revealed to you. Wanting this trip to stop even if just for a moment to clear the air, to get you to talk to him like before, hating the silent treatment you were giving him ever since the three of you left the theatre, ever since Ellie interrupted your discussion. But he knew just like you that it was not possible, that you wouldn’t give him the time, not when your best friend was here, especially after she had almost caught you crying. She had questioned your obviously tear filled eyes, but you brushed it off as nothing. Something she very hesitantly believed...if not at all, but she didn’t press on the matter, so you had to believe that she believed your lie.

“Stalker.” Jesse sharply whispered, breaking you from your train thought to then hear what he had warned you about, roaming and groaning inside what appeared to be an old parking garage. Without waiting, Ellie and you met each other’s gaze, sharing one short and knowing nod that made you pick up a brick off the ground to throw it inside the dark space, the sound instantly alerting all the infected to the spot like mosquitos to a bright light. Before those “mosquitos” could run away and hide back into their corners, Ellie threw a Molotov, burning all those ugly infected that were stupidly gathered.

Only it didn’t kill them in one go, no, a couple managed to escape, one in particular surprised all of you and rounded the corner, groaning at the sight of you. And before it could reach Ellie or you, Jesse shot it from behind you, the runner collapsing to the ground after two shots. Ellie offered him a small thankful smile before she climbed the debris and got to higher ground to shoot one more that was just lost in the dark, making everything return to your uncomfortable silence...until Jesse broke it.

“I don’t hear anything, is that it?”

Quietly you sneak forward and poke your head past the wall to see it just filled with cars that had gotten trapped inside before part of the garage caved in.

Ellie dropped back to your side and moved forward before nodding, “yeah, I think so.”

That was too easy.

Wasn’t it?

In the same silence you begin to sneak around the garage, helping Ellie as you always did loot whatever you could find. Trying your best in the progress to ignore talking to Jesse, of even making eye contact. You have been doing good since you left the theater. Let’s just try not to break it now.

Only it wasn’t that easy; “Are you okay, y/n? You’ve been unusually quiet.” Ellie suddenly speaks up, pulling the attention to your quiet demeanor.

You swallow thickly and offer a stiff nod. “Yeah...just have a lot on my mind.”

Ellie hums, picking up the volume on her voice the deeper she traveled into the garage. “Penny for your thoughts?”

You feign a laugh and go stiff when you feel and hear Jesse come up behind you. “I think you’re going to have to pay her more than that to get her to talk.”

Ellie chuckles from on top of a car, her attention divided between the upper level she was attempting to get on and Jesse and you slowly catching up—“no, but really, are you okay?”

Letting yourself fall behind Jesse, you catch Ellie already on top, having to talk louder than you had wanted for her to hear. “I’m...fine.”

Ellie stayed silent, her footsteps the only thing heard for a moment before her voice echoed around. She didn’t believe you, but that was going to have to be discussed later, without an audience. For now she moved on to other matters. “So, are you guys going to tell me how your trip went when you were coming to Seattle?”

You scoff, “are you going to tell me about yours?”

“Easy.” She shared a little more upbeat, “I’ll let you read my journal. That way you’re caught up. And that way you let me read yours?” It was a shared moment just between the two of you that happened when either of you have gone without seeing each other for an extended amount of time. It was easier to read about it then have to explain it with verbal words. It was also a very special bond. Neither of you shared the journal with anyone else, just each other. No matter how special Jesse grew to be, he didn’t get to skim or glance at a page.

Which is why he was lost, but also why he shared his own thoughts on the moment. His eyes turn to you with a slightly hurt look. Not only because you declined his help to climb on the upper level he and Ellie were on, but the fact that Ellie was still clueless to your relationship status. “You haven’t told her?”

His look hurt you, it did. But it’s not like you had time...well you did, but after Dina’s news well you were holding back until further notice. “Uhh, no.”

“Tell me what?”

Jesse looked away from you, his lips parting to get ready to answer her, “y/n and—” but just before he could even finish, his sentence was caught off by your scream and the sounds of infected running and growling behind you. Jesse without hesitation whipped his head around to see a stalker had caught your leg, their hands firmly gripping onto your ankle and yanking you down with them, only allowing you to hold onto the floor he was on with one hand, while the other tried to reach for your pistol. “Come on, grab on I got you!” Jesse bellowed, one hand out for you while his other one pulled out his pistol.

You tried to kick the stalkers head as it tried to chomp your leg, but more began to appear, making you stress even more, making your heart beat rise and not allowing you to fully grab onto your weapons in fear that one would make contact with your leg—“get off you ugly fuck!”

“Baby, come on!”

Your eyes snapped to him at the sound of his desperation and name that slipped from his mouth, your actions faltering for a second before the shot from his gun rang by your ear and brought you back to the room, letting your struggling hand come in contact with his, instantly feeling him pull you up and away from the infected. Before you could express your gratitude, Jesse and you had to jump to your feet and both keep shooting at those infected that surprised you, hearing Ellie’s own sounds of struggle in the far corner as some jumped off the third level and ran to her. Right before you could turn to help Ellie, a stalker knocked the gun from Jesse's hand and tackled him to the ground, making you have to make a hasty move and kick it off without a thought before shooting it multiple times, the fear you felt for yourself completely turning to fear for your boyfriend.

Before he could respond to your quick thinking, you spun around and shot the stalker that was on Ellie, making that the last one. Hopefully.

“Thank you.” Ellie breathed, shoving the dead off her as she watched with a new curiosity as you helped Jesse off the floor, noticing the relief in your eyes after you had scanned his body for bites.

“You okay?” Jesse asked first, his hands going on your shoulders as his eyes searched your body.

You nod, “yeah...you?”

Jesse offers a small smile, before pulling away. “Never better.”

You turned to Ellie who was now looting the dead, pretending she hadn’t witnessed the moment. Her attention only caught by you when you fell by her side. “Are you okay?”

Ellie nodded, “yep.” Again she looked away and let the moment pass. Surprisingly. “Okay, now that’s it.”

“This place looks like a dead end.” Jesse pointed out.

“yeah, I think you’re right.” Ellie agreed before she followed after Jesse and you hopped back onto the floor you were on before. Having to walk back outside into the rain to find another way. And before either of you could fully go out, Jesse blocked your path, lifting his hand and offering a rather celebratory high five. And equally as exciting words.

“Go team Jackson!”

Ellie didn’t wait to answer, “fuck these motherfuckers.” Before also crashing her palm with his, leaving you to face him last. He grinned and waited, hearing you sigh, but noticing the smile that pulled on your lips when your hands did meet.

“Couldn’t have said better.” He added, holding onto your hand for a moment longer until you pulled it away and chose to continue down your previous path. Any other day you would have let him, you would have loved to hold his hand. But...just not yet. He needed to wait. Everything was still left unresolved.

“So,” Ellie mused as she swiftly slid down the mud and crashed into the cold water with Jesse and you following suit. Both knowing. Well at least you knew, without her having to further explain what she was going to bring up. She had heard Jesse's comment and she wasn’t going to just let it slide like if it were nothing. Curse her curious mind; “somebody want to let me know what’s going on?”

You scoff and thankfully avoid the question by swimming under caved in debris. Even if it was a short swim, it was still welcomed to avoid you having to answer the inevitable. What would happen if you choose to stay under water? Logical answer would be, you would drown. But if you forgot that for a second then the answer would be that all the problems thrown at you would be avoided...what you wouldn’t give to stay underwater instead of having to surface backup and answer.

“During the trip here….Jesse and I,” You hesitate and bite the inside of your cheek to hold back the smile that threatened to show, regardless of your current feelings for said man. “Jesse and I...got together.” Unbeknownst to you, Jesse smiled at your comment, his eyes following as you got up to drier ground and began to follow a rather silent Ellie up onto a catwalk. Her rather emotionless answer only caught Jesse's attention.

“You guys are together? That’s...great.”

Before Jesse could follow up on her comment, he walked past you to help Ellie and then you get into a surprisingly dry library. The topic forgotten, or at least chosen to be forgotten for now as Jesse commented on something different; “I would’ve come you know. If you had told me you were leaving. We both would have”

You nod in agreement and slowly walk past the bookshelves, letting your fingertips graze over the spines of each book still sitting there completely intactic.

“I just…” Ellie answered, hesitating for a moment, her eyes meeting yours as your attention went back to her. “I didn't think you’d be okay with all this. Neither of you.”

You sigh as you fall by her side, “Joel was family, I would’ve come with you.”

A faint smile tugs on her lips, her hand going to the back of her neck to scratch nervously.

Jesse stopped and looked over his shoulder to add something as well. “I looked up to Joel. What happened to him was messed up. I would’ve come.”

Again you all continued, both Jesse and you waiting in silence for Ellie to collect whatever it was and meet up again, continuing in answering Jesse with a calm tone. “Joel liked you a lot too, you know. He used to think I had a crush on you.”

You instantly cover your mouth with your hand to surpress a laugh that threatened to come out at Ellie’s shared memory—Joel was a smart man when it came to infected and everything else except teenage romance. A.I. his adopted daughters love life.

Jesse let out a lighthearted scoff, “really?”

“I mean…you’re handsome and whatever...but I’m not into your type.”

This time you let out a snort and a genuine smile appears on your features.

“What? Asians?” Jesse retorted.

You chuckle and nod. “Yeah, that's obviously what she meant.”

Jesse chuckles and hops down to the first floor with caution, following after both Ellie and you. The red head separating from the group to explore and loot on her own while Jesse and you go off together. A quiet walk while both of you loot and look, feeling the hairs on the back of your neck rise at the feeling of him behind you, hearing his lips part to say something, but soon pressing them back together. Letting your curiosity get the best of you.

“What is it? You want to say something, no?”

Jesse stays silent for a moment before he clears his throat and talks behind your shoulder. “Maybe you can find that book here. The one you wanted to take Maria.”

You smile, “a peace offering. Yeah, maybe.”

“What was it about again? Witches and Wizards?”

You laugh softly and nod, waiting and pretending to look at one of the shelves so he could fall at your side. From the corner of your watching as he indeed does so, his own gaze watching you, waiting for your answer. “Yeah something like that, she read it to me long ago. Great books and good movies too.” You look over to him and show him your smile. A step up to whatever was happening between the two of you. “I recommend reading and then watching.”

Jesse smirks, “only if you’ll watch with me.”

You hum and continue walking, hiding a smirk of your own. “We’ll see.” Jesse remains quiet, but you know he’s content, feeling as if the trouble you were facing now with him and Dina was just an easy obstacle you were going to deal with quickly. He wanted that, but it wasn’t as easy for you.

“Pretty messed up.” Jesse commented as he and you met up with Ellie in the kid section, eyeing the plastic purple painted mushrooms sticking out from the wall suspiciously as you walked towards it. “Putting fungus in the kid section.”

“Mushrooms didn’t really carry the same meaning back then.” Ellie added.

“Oh, eh I guess so.”

Your eyes proceed to drift from the fake mushrooms and slide down to the brightly painted kids books on the shelves, a faint smile painted on your lips as you reach to grab one and let your fingers delicately run through each page. Hearing as Jesse walked past you and continued to ask both Ellie and you a quick question. “Did you guys have a favorite book as a kid?”

Putting the book you had in your hands back on the shelf you turn around and walk towards Ellie and Jesse. “Those books Maria likes, they were big but she would read them to me.”

Ellie is quick to follow up after and share her answer, “yeah, battle ghosts. It’s about these space marines who fight off. Alien ghosts.”

Jesse smiles and nods. “Sounds….like something you’d like.”

You grin and watch Jesse from the corner of your eye, “what about you?”

“Well,” Jesse rolled out as you all continued walking, “my mom only had this one kids book. The root child. It’s about this boy that turns into a forest to save his village.”

You nod, “okay.”

Jesse smiles and continues, “too keep things fresh though, my mom would improvise different endings.” Jesse chuckles, “This one time the boy let the whole village die. Gave me nightmares.”

You laugh and notice Jesse's grin brighten—“that’s dark.” You interject, “it’s really sweet she did that.”

Jesse nods in agreement, “yeah. Moms a sweetheart.” He pauses for a brief moment but continues, “she’s going to go crazy when she hears about this baby.”

At that your smile instantly drops and an unwanted sigh leaves your lips, causing Jesse to back off a bit and for Ellie to speak up to try and break the sudden awkwardness that grew. “Sure, I could see that.” She looked back at you and offered you a reassuring smile.

It was a sweet gesture but the change in topic just changed the mood you had managed to be in, so all you could manage was a smile that never fully reached your eyes. Focusing on walking up the broken escalator and for your smile to completely drop at the sight of three fresh dead bodies on the ground.

The sight caused Ellie to curse, “damn this place is fucked.”

You nod and look away, “bloods still wet….let’s head back to the street.” With that they both don’t hesitate to follow after you, hopping off the second floor to land with a soft thud in what used to be a cafe, walking out of the hole on the wall in utter silence. Your mind not on the premises of the room you had left or actually anywhere near here, which caused you to miss the unknown shouting in the distance until Jesse pulled you down the side in the tall grass. Your nose scrunching up as the water splashes all over your body, making you that much more cold than you already were. Great. Cause this couldn’t get any worse.

Jesse lifted his head inches off the long grass to point to something, “look they have a dog be careful.” You look to where his finger is pointing at and nod, beginning to move alongside him and Ellie as they begin to sneak through the grass to try and go unnoticed. Which for the most part it went well because you all managed to get inside yet another broken building where you could see the building you needed to get to in order to be out of harm's way. Or at least out of harm's way in this small area.

Just as you were going to be the last one to climb up the broken down platforms to get out and go yet into another body of icy cold water, you were surprised by a jaw closing down on your arm and yanking down to begin to violently drag you away, letting you only hear Ellie shout out for you and for her and Jesse to instantly respond by shooting at the thing that was pulling you which you only now noticed was the dog you’d been warned about only moments before. It growled and pressed down harder, moving away to its eager owner as you tried to push it or elbow it back—“let go you stupid dog!” You bellowed, forgetting your unimaginable pain and trying to force your arm out of the dogs jaw which as you tried it didn’t work until it suddenly stopped and let your arm go as a bullet shot through it and seconds later the owner.

You shudder and crawl away from the dogs corpse, bumping into Jesse as he rushed down to your side, his hands already pulling you up to your feet to begin to run as the people that were left outside hurried to identify the noise. All you heard was the following and rushed steps chasing after the three of you, but nothing else that involved them as your head spun and you could feel your heart pump madly in your ear at the pain your mind now registered on your arm. Everything just tuned out and went out of focus, even jumping into the water felt like it was purely a hazy dream. Nothing except the pain felt real.

The only reaction you could fully give and finally think of was letting out a heavy sigh and a couple blinks as you were now inside a dark room that was somewhat broken from the walls, but the ceiling was intact which provided the much needed cover from the rain.

Jesse crouched down in front of you and took your arm as his eyes searched yours in high concern “hey, are you okay?” You blink but nod, your eyes going from your bloody wound to Jesse's eyes and to the greenery growing on the wall as you sat through the pain whilst Jesse pulled your sleeve up; “we have no time to stitch it, but I’ll wrap it and rub some alcohol on it to keep it from infecting, alright?”

You nod slowly and blink to meet Ellie’s gaze as she turns from the working bench, her gaze darting from Jesse and you to check outside the window. Talking to you over her shoulder as she did so, “you’re okay? Damn dog surprised all of us.”

“Yeah I’m fine, it’s just a dog bite...nothing to worry about.” You assure her and Jesse as he begins to dab alcohol on your open wound, making you hiss and just flinch back.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, “just a little bit more and—there.” He grabbed the wraps from his bag and gently wrapped them around your arm, being careful to hold the ends down before he pulled your sleeve over it once more. “Done, I’ll check on it later.” He looked up to you and offered you a reassuring smile which you slightly mirrored before leaning in to press a kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you.”

His smile widened and he stood to his given height to gesture it was okay to keep going. It took you a minute but you followed along too, maneuvering out the door and through the dark hall that led yet to other broken down rooms until you found out you needed to go up higher to reach a dark room that was filled with mannequins. Creepy to say the least.

“I think Abby picked the aquarium on purpose because it’s so damn hard to get to.” Jesse added as he followed behind Ellie and you.

Ellie shrugged, “maybe.” She continued now quietly moving through the room until she led you outside onto a broken platform that gave view of your planned out location, only their was something blocking you from nearly wanting to just run straight across, which was another body of water below you.

You sighed in disappointment and took one step forward to get a wider view, “Jesus!”

Jesse fell by your side and finished your comment, “how the hell are we crossing this?”

Ellie pointed to the road in the distance, “we could use that road,” she sighed, “it’s pretty fucking far.”

Again another sigh leaves your lips and your eyes drift to the sound of a motor below, spotting a boat that made a twinkle in your eye, “or we can use that.” You point out.

“Yeah,” Ellie responded, “that’s better.”

Jesse gently hit your shoulder and motioned both Ellie and you to follow, “come on, this way.” Which you did, ending up jumping down to another broken platform and then a bridge that led you into a dark building—“so what’s the plan? We take these guys out and steal their boat?”

“We’re definitely taking their boat.” Ellie answered, “it’s up to them if they wanna get in our way.”

You muse, “hopefully it’s a small crew.” This time with more precaution the three of you walk inside what you now realize is a mall—oh what you wouldn’t give to see this intact like in the movies…life would be very different...maybe like in those old movies with the girls only worry was who they were going to date and what they were going to wear. But alas life is different. Very different...you have to worry about hiding and killing, swimming in more fucking water and finding people. Worry about boyfriend problems—maybe it wasn’t so different after all, just add an infected or two or a hundred.

However it was or you wanted it to be, you had no choice but to live this life, hide and sneak into buildings to avoid enemy groups like now—“need a hand?” You overheard a WLF soldier ask, making your tiny group carefully keep swimming forward and only having to overhear their bland conversation.

“Nah, I got it. This engine is being finicky.”

“Sniper spotted at 12. I repeat, sniper spotted at 12. Likely a trespasser. Any nearby units report”

Likely a trespasser? Tommy?

You gasp but have to keep swimming, hearing your mind rush with millions of thoughts. Mainly concern over Tommy’s wellbeing and his current position as the soldiers unknowingly keep giving out information on Tommy that you needed—for example it was only him and he was mostly doing hell of job since he’s got these people freaking out. At the knowledge, you could hardly contain yourself, one with nervousness and two with the small emotions of joy as you finally heard news of him. You only managed to react once you climbed up the robe to get to the upper level where you followed Jesse to the gap to plan your further travel towards Tommy.

“Ellie,” Jesse waved over, gaining said girl's attention before continuing, “we can get to the marina from here.”

Ellie shook her head and your excitement faltered—“no. We’re taking the boat.” She pointed out.

Jesse's eyebrows furrowed, “you heard them right? They’re talking about Tommy.”

“We don’t know that.” Ellie argued, but also made a good point. It could be anyone.

But something told you it was the man you were looking for.

Jesse countered, “who else is it going to be?”

Ellie scoffed and shook her head, “if it is him, he’ll be gone by the time we get there. Abby is where I’ll be headed so if we could just—”

Your heart dropped at her argument and at what Jesse had to remark, “what if he’s in trouble?”

Now you felt as if you were torn between the two. Neither had asked for your opinion, but you knew it wouldn’t be long and you knew that it was going to hurt. Obviously you cared about Ellie’s revenge, after all you knew what Joel meant to Ellie. It’s like what Tommy meant to you. Joel was like her father, just how Tommy was like yours. She had every reason to go after Abby, but she also couldn’t leave Tommy. You couldn’t….fuck.

“He can take care of himself.”

Jesse shook his head and turned away out of disbelief, “Jesus Christ.”

“The best way to help Tommy,” Ellie continued, “is to go after Abby. You do this I’m not saving your ass again.”

Jesse scoffed, “I really hope you make it.” His gaze turned to you just like Ellie’s did. Both waiting on your decision on where to go.

Leaving to you to look like a criminal caught red handed, frozen and unable to think of what to do next. Just stuck between options….options you knew already—you swallowed thickly and looked between your best friend and your boyfriend, parting your lips to answer, “I…”

Tagged- @protect-lev , @expecto-nox​​ , @vintage-and-hypnotic , @kokomaesadie​ , @0j-b0, @itsyellow

[thesleepy1]

Fire Breathing Cat

A/N: @write-it-motherfuckers Seeing as the last fic did well and the support was incredible I thought I’ll write another one. This time with Lambert who deserves the world. He’s as much of a softie as Eskel, we all know it. Once again unbeta’d. 

Person A: “...What the fuck is that?”

Person B: “A cat.”

 Person A: “That is clearly a dragon wearing a cat ear headband.”

Person B: “No it’s not, it’s a cat.”

 Person A: “That breathes fire?” 

 Persona B: “...It’s a very rare breed.” 

 Pairings: Lambert x Reader, belief Jaskier x Geralt 

 Summary: Ciri, Jaskier, and Geralt come to Kaer Morhen for the winter with an unexpected guest. Only the guest is in a sack and you aren’t allowed to know what or who they are. Then they escape.  

 Word count:716

 Warnings: Suggestive comments and language, 

 You’ve spent a total of three winters with Lambert and this was the first year where he decided to spend it in Kaer Morhen. You’ve only heard stories of what the fortress was like, a vast castle soaking in the remaining light from the raid that had doomed them all. Well, not in those precise words. 

 Lambert wasn’t exactly the type to paint his stories with metaphors and little details, that was more of Jaskier’s thing. The bard had come with Geralt and Ciri, the trio making a grand entrance by arriving with a living creature stuffed in a sack. They told no one what was in there but Ciri’s poor excuse had you curious from the beginning. 

 “Um, this is just Kelpie’s food.” 

 “Should it be moving?” You pointed to the sack that was inching towards the open window. An open window overlooking a drop that would kill even Lambert mind you.

 “O-of courses, why wouldn’t it?” A look of pure panic crossed her face as she assured you that everything was as it should be. She was fooling no one. 

 “Don’t horses eat oats and greens? Plant stuff?” You’re more articulated than Lambert, but not by much. 

 “Horses are omnivores.”

 You raised your eyebrow at the blatant lie. But left it at that. You were curious, but it was really none of your business. “Sure they are.…”

 That was until whatever was in the sack got loose. One morning you woke up to the sound of Jaskier screaming and an empty sack thrown at Lambert’s half asleep face. 

“Fuck, what’s going on?!”

 “He escaped!” Jaskier yelled from down the hall. It looked like he had just woken up, shirtless and in the process of pulling up his pants. Geralt was one lucky witcher. 

 As if he could hear your thoughts Lambert whipped to face you. “What exactly escaped?” 

 “How should I know?” You shrugged, pulling on a shirt that was laying on the floor. It was consequently Lambert’s.

 “Wait now, shouldn’t we be helping them find whatever it is?” He gave you a sinful smirk, his eyes ripping his own shirt from the seams. 

 You quickly take the shirt off and fling it onto him, grabbing your own clothes and putting them on. You shook your head at his groans of protest. “But afterwards we are so getting rid of these extra layers.” 

 If by afterwards he meant two hours out in a snowstorm looking for who knows what then he was correct. After losing a boot, the three collective brain cells, and a pair of gloves you finally return to the safety and warmth of inside. 

 And that creature that you have spent the morning trying to find? A genuine baby dragon. No wonder Ciri was trying to hide the overgrown reptile. 

 “Ciri, what the fuck is that?” Lambert broke the silence that had grown when everyone had gathered in the dining hall. 

 “A cat,” was her innocent reply, looking for Geralt for support. The witcher in question only grabbed the dragon and shoved a hair ornament into place between two growing horns. The dragon seemed to be alright with the arrangement. 

 “That is clearly a dragon wearing a cat ear headband.”

 “No it’s not, it’s a cat,” Ciri tried again, pointing to said hair ornament. You looked to Jaskier and could only guess what he and Geralt got up to.  

 “That breathes fire?” You ducked out of the way just as a burst of flame left the baby’s snout. Not entirely opposed to the idea of a heat source you begin petting the warm dragon. He was so small but felt like putting your hand against a house set ablaze. 

 “He’s a very rare breed.” 

 “A rare breed indeed, do you know how hard it was to find him?” Jaskier began, going into a lecture of how he and Geralt had found the poor baby alone and without parents in the middle of the woods. “He was so thin and couldn’t even open his eyes. We couldn’t have just left him!”

 “We’re keeping him, he has nowhere to go and we’re not monsters,” Ciri added, petting the baby as well. 

 Lambert sighed, his shoulders sagging with his exhale. “Fine, but don’t let Vesemir or Eskel find out.” 

 “Find out about- Oh.”

[loudlypanickinginvenezolano]

Animalistic, pt 2, but I tried editing it.

Something is really wrong, and Shadow is awfully aware of that...He just... cant say what... Besides Sonic. Something is crearly wrong with that hedgehog.

Mention of a snake, animals, dead animals, and injuries, I guess. I tried editing this chapter, but I am not sure wherever it is better or not. I still like it, tho...

It took him maybe 8 seconds of confused blinking to remember why was an overgrown python chilling on his bed, but once everything loaded and pierced itself together on his mind, Shadow finally managed to find on himself the will to get out of his cozy blankets and stand, carefully picking up his moody companion, and leave him into his tank, no matter how pissed off Kaa may look. “I am, Oh so sorry for disturbing your sleep, your majesty, but that is a no-no place for you to be and you know it.” He snorted, before blinking, because, wow, he really must be tired.

Barely awake enough to remember that yes, he needed to wear some kind of paw-wear that wasn’t just socks, he jogged down the steps, groggily searching around the house the reason he had arisen from his warm, and delicious, and maaaaybee self-indulging dream, but what the hell, it was all on his head, wasn’t it? And unless it was the dream police he fucking wasn’t feeling sorry for his fantasies.

Anyway.

He was sure he had heard something…

“Well, hello there, little mister.” He cooed, picking up Baloo from where the baby bear had wandered, chucking lowly at the dispirited face of the now busted cub. Scrooge was close to the door, looking warily and keeping guard as Mowgly was being his dumb self in the middle of the living room, roaming around and pawing at everything that gained his attention, not a bit undeterred by Shadow appearance. If Something, it seemed like he was even more energetic than before, happily running to him and trying to play with the large ears and little horns of his slippers.

While Mowgly and Baloo had warmed incredibly quickly to Shadow and the secure room he had made for them during this first 2 days, Scrooge was reserved, to not be insulting, and didn’t like so much wherever Shadow came closer, pawing away his hands, sneezing or growling until she decided she wanted food. She was….a moody motherfucker, there really wasn’t a round way about it.

That was why he was certain that Ebeneeza Scrooge was a perfect name.

Though ¨¨Scary little bitch¨¨ wasn’t so far off the mark, either. It was just too long, and Scalibi was taken.

She was the real reason he feared to be stabbed during his sleep...

So far, everything normal, Right?

A calm, fresh night, or as calm as they get when you are Shadow the hedgehog and you are taking care of the very thing you may or may not have a phobia for.

Now, Can somebody explain him what the fuck happened to that “normal” he just had? Because shit, he couldn’t find it anymore and he wanted it back. For yesterday.

It all started when not so long after he ushered the bears back to where they were sleeping, his back door started being scratched on, which wasn’t such a normal occurrence and really, Shadow should have realized since that moment that something was off.

He wasn’t sure what kind of otherworldly being possessed him in that instant, but je made the mistake of opening the door without checking properly, and really, what was he? A rookie or something?

What was he thinking?!

Immediately, 12 raccoons ran in, closely followed by what he was certain were at least 18 bunnies. And then, while he had been busy gaping like a dumbass, 9 giggling foxes squeezed past, as well as-- where those squirrels?

Yes, that definitely were 23 or something squirrels.

And a rat.

A big, fat as shit, and really ugly looking greyish-black rat.

Oh sir, what disgusting creation was that?

He closed the door and put the lock on it, leaning heavily on its surfaces and racking his brain while trying to decide wherever he had ingested something strange or not during the day, but nothing came. He could not find any coherent reason about why had these animals decided to invade his house like this.

Well…

They had come searching for refuge in the past, that was true, but it was because of storms or something of the like….

Oh. Maybe it was what all of this was about? But, he hadn’t heard any thunder, and there was no rain, nor wind picking up.

Come to think about it, it hadn’t rained in like 6 days.

He didn’t… he didn’t have time to this.

Just as he was doing his best at calming down what looked like a hurt raccoon having a panic attack, if that even makes sense, and was actually and surprisingly succeeding in doing so, all hell broke loose when the window of his living room broke in a splash of glass accompanied by a very manly screech, and 7 scared deer’s jumped into the house, cuts and stuck glass pieces making their blood come say hi. The rabbits went crazy, and the foxes started screeching and doing that weird pat-pat thing dogs do while happy, just that the foxes weren’t happy, and neither was Shadow.

He was sure the raccoon he was holding died of a heart attack for 4 agonizing seconds.

<<Same, buddy. >>

This was… this was bad.

Like really, really bad.

And of course, it just got worse when wolves jumped in, and the growling, or screaming in that fox’s case, started once again.

Was that fox… peeing in his floor!? OH SHIT IT WAS! IT PEED ALL OVER HIS BLACK STELLAR RUG!

It wasn’t even 8 pm, what the actual fucking shit?!

Shadow felt like screaming. He actually was going to scream like a bitch or a scared child he didn’t care anymore. He was done, oh shit.

Shadow breathed deeply, resisted the urge of biting his forearm or screeching like a banshee into his coffin like cushion, and exhaled, trying not to scare any of the already panicking animals around him, and to not succumb to his own panic in the middle of this disaster. He breathed once again.

He was better than this.

This…this was nothing compared to some of the things he had been through in the past.

This was fine. He totally wasn’t hyperventilating over such a thing.

Right. Cool head. Everything was going to be alright for as long as he didn’t succumb to his panic. It was easy. Totally.

Mh-hm…

Once he made sure the raccoon was actually breathing, he left it clung to his back as he made his way to his window, carefully stepping between the glass, rodents, and paws, as he had noticed that the smell of blood was thicker in that part after sniffing around.

Shadow wasn’t that surprised to see two heavily injured wolves in his front porch, panting as 3 young deers warily made their way over.

This was… going to be a long night of no sleep, right?

Thank god he didn’t need to go to the G.U.N. headquarters or the FF central for the whole week. Were he to see their faces tomorrow, at least someone was bound to get a fucking punch in the mouth.

He was betting Silver.

Maybe Amy.

A while later, when he finished with the first wolf, he looked up to find Gumdrop looking back at him. Other 14 ravens and like 8 Macaws and who-has-the-time-to-count other birds he didn’t knew the name of were trying to sleep in the couch support, and there were frogs hiding under his chairs and couch, a few even jumping up to his small coffee table.

6 wild cats and their 9 cubs where chilling by the door, and it seemed the wolves, deer’s, and Foxes came to an understanding and were keeping to themselves, not moving an inch into the others space, and thanks heaven, having no discussions over territory, as he wasn’t sure about how would thing end if his unexpected visitors decided to break a brawl into his house in such a time.

Shadow wondered if he could offer the rat or whatever that thingwas to the wolves as a reward for not peeing, unlike others he was glaring to. He decided they were his favorites and it had totally nothing to do with how one of them decided that lying next to him was a wonderful idea… as well as licking his thigh with abandon [which on second though may be a way to express their anxiety and shouldn’t be so cute.]

Nothing to do with that overgrown puppy he was dying to pet. Not at all.

He wasn’t so stupid as to try and touch an actual wild wolf he had never come in contact before.

Convincing the deer´s to let him heal their injuries was tricky, nervous, scared, and certainly put off by Shadow himself and his med kit as they were, but he managed after a long while of murmuring softly, yummy treats, and petting. He noticed that some of the cuts were made by claws, thick, strange claws he remembered still, and not only by glass, as he had though initially.

It was a big “oh.” Moment. He…he really hadn’t thought about that. But, why would he, right? Shadow had been so sure that it was just a one-time incidence, an isolated occurrence, something that came across the place, and maybe left after, once everything was done. It had happened before…

The proof of how careless he had been, how innocent, if you may, how wrongin his believe was laying right in front him, like an accusing hand directly thrown in his face.

He had to manually re-start the heart of 4 cubs, two raccoons, 3 wolves, and 6 rabbits that night.

He found 5 quills into the fur of the animals that night.

They matched the one on his bedside table completely, no doubt they were from the same animal or the same kind, at least.

Shit.

Shit shit shit, shit.

He wanted to punch something so bad on his frustration. How had he been so naïve? How? He had fucked up big time, there wasn’t space for a doubt now. What was he going to do? How could he make up for this disgrace?

Shit.

Should he hunt?

Shadow… He really didn’t sleep that night, even though he knew he needed to. Attending wound after wound, getting bitten, scratched, throw off his paws, and even being thrown up on became a routine somewhere down the line, the fact that he was running out of pots to put clean water on, bandages and other necessities never out of his mind as more and more scared animals came to his door.

What was out there?

How could he sleep in a moment like that?

Had the animal’s sounds or injuries left him, the bone chilling howling he heard at 1 AM, and then later at 4 AM really gave no option. He would have woken up anyway, startled and panicking as much as the animals around him, and it would just have been a more difficult scenario to handle.

Even the wolves shuddered and searched for comfort, scared and intimidated by what they heard and saw, most likely.

It was better this way. Even if he felt a bit sluggish and rather tired, he could hold. He was trained for this, wasn’t he?

He just…wondered why he felt so affect about this. Almost… sick.

Once the time came, he went out to run like every day, undeterred, stepping into the thick foliage like usual. The sunlight barely made it to the ground, so everything was gloomy and humid still, not really reliable to walk around unless you knew the territory.

He found 4 strange dips into the earth, like the one he previously slipped on, and 1 wolf and 3 deer’s corpses.

One was destroyed, as if attacked in a fit of rage, and 2 of the deers were nothing but bones by now, munched on by this new creature he had not seen yet, and others scavengers of the zone. It had been clearly full by then, or at least coming closer to it, as the remaining one still had a lot on…Well.

Maybe saying “a lot” was being too generous. But there was some fur still attached. Fur he could use… maybe?

Ugh.

Shadow couldn’t help but compare his own bite to it.

The difference was jarring and unpleasant to find. His lethal fangs were small in comparison, and his claws were but a joke.

He knew it could also mean nothing. Even if the creature was big, Shadow could still take it on, and win.

It was okay.

He breathed out slowly.

Shadow went back home early that day, cutting his trip short, trying to stop feeling as if something was staring at him from the top of the trees, following his steps in such a quiet manner he couldn’t place from where he was being followed exactly.

Mocking, maybe, but intense.

He fed the bears, and did his best to help the animals inside eat something and lure them out.

A few looked scared, still. Wary. And Shadow, with a sinking emotion in his stomach, found he couldn’t blame them.

He wondered why he hadn’t stopped feeling sick.

[dontdietwd]

Day 77

“Why do you think you and I didn’t get along?” Andrea broke the silence when we ate quietly siting on the hood of the car. It was a valid question.

“We’re just very different,” was all I answered.

“You really think so?”

“Yeah.”

“But you don’t even know my story. Just like I don’t know yours.”

“You know a bit of mine,” I told her and, when she looked confused at me, I moved on. “That night at the camp… With Amy and the wine…”

She took a breath as if hearing her sister’s name felt like a punch in the stomach. “Yeah… That part.”

“That part… That part tells a lot about me,” but I thought a bit more about it. “But it’s not… I don’t know, I always felt like you were always trying too hard. I wondered a few times why was that.”

“What did I seem to be trying too hard?”

“To be strong. To be independent, feminist, to rub in the men’s faces that you were just as good as them. You didn’t need to try that hard to show it… You already were, I could see it, but you kept trying to make it very clear to everyone.”

“I don’t know if I know how to act any other way…”

“Why’s that?”

She thought for a moment before saying “My father… He was very, uh… Demanding. Rigorous, critical. He was always finding my mistakes, my weaknesses, and my mom’s… I guess instead of believing him and putting myself down as well, I wanted to prove him wrong. Everything I did was always to show him that he was wrong.”

I had judged Andrea, not ever stopping to think that her personality that I disliked would have come from something. Everyone has a history and their own wounds and they all make a person what they are. I didn’t dislike her anymore. Andrea had shot Daryl in an unconscious attempt to prove do Dale, a father figure, and probably Shane too, that she was capable of doing it. She was not right and it was no excuse, but I could understand it a bit better now.

We talked as we followed road signs. On pointed to a church somewhere in a community and we followed it, talking a side road. Even only three months with no care this road already had overgrown on all the sides, and it made me uneasy. Walkers could be hiding on the bushes, so I had my axe ready. We needed to find Andrea a weapon urgently. Since this morning she’d been carrying a spike that we thought would be strong enough, but it was not ideal. And we needed food, water, and a car. And to find our group. To find Daryl.

Oh, Daryl…

“You ‘n I… We’re it.”

The bushes shook right on our left side removing me abruptly form the memories. As if they’d been there all the time, just waiting for us to get close enough as if they could think, a small herd of walkers came out, at least ten of them. Surprised, Andrea and I stumbled a bit and ran ahead on the road, but from the same bushes ahead of us, more of them came out, so we turned to go back were we’d come from, but the first part of them had closed the road behind us. So I grabbed Andrea, and she grabbed me, and we ran into the woods on our side, straight into the bushes, All I hoped is that there weren’t more in there. I felt something cut my arm and still ran, entering the sparse patch of woods there.

Goddamn big herd. They’d been dormant there and our presence woke them up and now they were coming and I did not get scared, I got fucking furious. This again, seriously? Running through the woods with walkers behind me and nowhere to go? No fucking way.

“That tree!” I shouted at Andrea over the walkers’ growls. “Climb up!”

It was a huge oak, royally standing there, dwarfing all the other trees around. Thick, strong branches that seemed easy to climb. Well, at least for me, I was used to that stuff, so I let Andrea go first, positioning my hands to give her foot a shove up. She groaned in the effort to go up but was out of the ground in seconds and kept on. I looked around before going up and they were there, at least tree closer and this crowd of dead behind them. Axe in hand, I looked up at Andrea who was just settling on a higher branch, safe, looking down terrified at me. I let the axe fall against the oak roots, I knew the walkers wouldn’t be taking it, obviously, took a few steps back for impulse and ran, climbing over the tree. It would have been a much easier movement just months ago without the baby bump and not being so hurt and tired, but I did the job. In seconds I was sitting with Andrea, the walkers on the ground confused, looking around and passing the tree following nothing. Thanks to fuck they were not smart at all.

“What now?” Andrea whispered. We were sitting straddling the branch face to face, pretty close to each other. I was glad she’d learned not to be loud. Finally.

“Now we wait. They’ll pass.”

“We won’t be able to hold this position much longer.”

She was right. We’d have to hold upright, holding on only to the branch we were sitting in.

“Okay, rest your back against the trunk,” I whispered to her pointing to the tree with my chin. She was about four feet away from it. I offered her a hand to steady her. “Slide back, careful.”

Nodding demonstrating just how nervous she was, she took my hand while I still held myself to the branch with the other and started wiggling her hips backwards, sliding really slowly, afraid she’d tumble sideways. I stretched myself forward to keep her hand safe in mine, until her back finally rested against the trunk. She breathed. I asked if she was alright with thumbs up gesture and she nodded.

Now I had to get a better position, and for that I’d need to go to another branch, the best option was one above us and slightly to the left. The herd under us lifted dust and a terrible stench, but I tried to ignore it. Had to ignore the fact that if I fell I’d have absolutely no chance. No chance to survive, for by boy to survive, to lead Andrea to safety, for me to find the group, to see Daryl again.

But well, no pressure!

I slid towards Andrea and she helped me on the last few inches as we sat nearly chest to chest, and then using the tree trunk and her shoulders as leverage, I carefully stood up.

“Oh god, careful!” Andrea whispered in terror from beneath me.

I said nothing, just focused in reaching up to a thinner yet stiff branch above my head, needing to get on my tiptoes to be able to get a good grip. Trusting it, I eyed the larger branch that was my goal, calculated, took a deep breath and jumped, my hands firm on the branch as I swung my whole body. I heard Andrea whimper in trepidation when my feet did not reach where they were supposed to and I hang there by my hands, whimpering. I was breathing hard through my teeth, my arms burning at my own weight, nothing under my feet except for the herd. Concentrating, I swung my body back once again, taking a stronger impulse than before, and reached it. I hugged the branch with my legs and stopped for a moment, breathing, and then gave the branch I was holding a strong shove and let go, throwing my upper body over the large one. I hugged it with arms and legs, my face turned to Andrea and stayed like that for a moment, my strong breath puffing my cheeks. After a moment I sat up and slid back a little, finally finding the oak trunk and resting against it.

I was getting old for this. And too tired. And maybe just a bit too pregnant.

* * *

I didn’t doze. I just rested my eyes.

Andrea and I were silent for a long time. It was probably over an hour. We didn’t know how many walkers big the heard had been, but it was so much larger than we thought. So, so much. They were slow, so it took a long time for their crowd to thin up, but even then they never stopped coming. Looking down, I could see at least five at each time, never less than that, as if they were following each other, not necessarily us or anything alive. They were just walking aimlessly, but at the moment we jumped back to the ground they’d attack.

My back was burning and Andrea was always trying to stretch and change positions the best she could. We couldn’t stay here for much longer.

“Hey,” I whispered at her and she looked sideways at me. “Where’s your spike?”

“Down there,” she pointed to the ground. It was fallen near the roots, just a foot away from my axe.

“We gonna have to go down,” I told her.

Her eyes opened more at that, “You’re sure?”

“We need to go, can’t just stay here. They’ll never stop coming. We’ll have to kill a few and run in that direction,” I pointed behind us. “I don’t see any movement from there. And then we can try the main road again.”

Swallowing visibly, Andrea nodded.

“Hey,” I called her again and she looked back at me. “You can do it.”

She nodded again, taking a calming breath.

“I’ll jump down first and start on them so you’ll have time to go down and take your spike, ok?”

“Please be careful!” she told me

I nodded, “When you have the spike, we’ll stand back to back and kill them, alright?”

I didn’t wait for her to answer because I knew she’d just nod nervously and maybe tell me to be careful again. So, trusting she’d do as I said, I threw a leg to the side of the branch and let myself fall. I fell heavily to the ground to a crouch and looked around just as the walkers saw me. Taking the axe that was at my feet, I got up and walked towards them rolling it in my hands.

Come on, motherfuckers.

Andrea did exactly as I said. When she got her back to mine, armed with the spike, I had killed two of them already. One by one we let them come and killed them. Odd how satisfying it was becoming… Creepy to think about that.

It stopped being satisfying when Andrea’s spike broke and she screamed when the walker came over her. She stumbled backways, falling down by my side, the walker over her. I had one right there coming at me but Andrea was panicking.

“Fuck!” I shouted and shoved the farmer walker away with a kick in the chest, and then turned to help her, my axe spiking into the back of its head. It fell dead on top of Andrea and I turned to deal with the one I’d kicked.

Too close. It was inches away from me, no space for me to rise the axe, its hands reaching and grabbing my arms. I fought it way, stepping back and then…

Well…

Then the head of the walker was gone, falling to the ground like a football, its heavy body falling just a moment after.

Standing right there in front of me was a living person I had not seen arrive at all, hood up covering her face, a sword in hand. A fucking sword. Behind her were two walkers chained as if on leashes, just standing there, not attacking or anything. She said nothing, just moved on to kill the next walker as I recovered from my shock enough to keep fighting them with my axe, Andrea not getting up, too scared and obviously weaponless to fight. The ninja with the sword killed like half a dozen walkers in seconds when I dealt with three of them with the heavy axe.

Damn, I wish I had a sword.

Then they were gone. The woman and I looked around, rounding each other to make sure no more walkers were near, and it was finally clear. Only then I faced her again, just as Andrea got up from the ground. The ninja was shaking her sword, walker blood splattering out of its surface.

“Where did you come from?!” I asked before even thinking about thanking her.

“You alright?” she asked.

You know in movies when somebody suddenly remembers something and a lot of scenes of those memories are quickly shown? Her voice did that to me. It was just not possible. I leaned down a bit trying to see her face under the hood and asked, disbelief clear in my voice:

“Michonne?”

She paused, just like Andrea by my side, and after a couple of seconds she lowered the hood and damn, it was really her, surprise widening her eyes.

“Sam?!”

I laughed. No, really, I just had to laugh. How the fuck was this possible? How, in the middle of the woods of Georgia I could’ve just had my ass saved by Michonne?

“Oh my God, Sam!” she said and rushed to hug me. I’m not sure if I was laughing or crying now as I hugged her back. It was just so good to see her.

“Holly shit, Michonne, I can’t believe it!”

She let go of me and held me by my arms, “You did get the dreads done!”

I laughed aloud, “I did!”

“I can’t believe you know each other!” Andrea said by my side and sobered me up a little.

“Mich, this is my friend Andrea. Andrea, Michonne was by best friend in high school!”

Andrea huffed a quick laugh, “Seriously?”

“Yes!” Michonne and I answered together.

“You’re back!” I said turning to Mich after she and Andrea shook hands.

“I was living in Sandy Springs when the outbreak happened. Tried to go down to Savannah after a while but… Well. Couldn’t.”

Oh, something bad had happened.

“Let’s catch up later. We need to get out of those woods, this huge herd just passed by us. And fuck, you’ll need to explain these two!” I said pointing at the walkers in chain behind her.

“I saw the herd,” Michonne said. “Didn’t think living person could be ‘round here ‘till you two jumped down from the tree,” she said as she sheathed her sword on the holster hanging from her back. “C’mon, I’m holing up in a cabin a few miles away.”

 * * *

 It was a simple hunting cabin among the trees, but Michonne seemed to have worked a bit on it already. It was almost clean and there were boards on the windows, an oil lamp on a table, bottles of water and canned food on the small kitchen area and a bed with blankets at a corner.

Andrea and I ate from what she gave us and had water and were able to sit and rest a little. Andrea dozed off right there where she sat on the floor. The poor woman was exhausted.

I sat on the bed with my back to the wall and Michonne came to sit by my side. Quietly, she reached for my hand and squeezed it, and we smiled at each other sideways.

“It’s so good to see you…” she told me quietly.

“You have no idea, Mich…”

And at that, with no warning, I started crying. Clutching her hand, my chin fell against my chest and I cried, my chest painfully tight.

“Oh, honey…” she whispered and hugged me sideways, making my head fall on her shoulder. “It’s alright… You let it out.”

I couldn’t speak for long minutes. After I was cried out, I straightened and tried to dry my face but even if I wasn’t sobbing anymore, the tears still fell freely.

“You two alone?” Mich asked in a whisper.

My chin trembled as I nodded. “We had a group... Got separated from them. They’re still out there, somewhere.”

“How this happened?”

Well, she got me started. I told her all that happened that night with Shane, but to explain Shane I had to tell why he’d hated me so much to the point of trying to murder me, and to explain it, I explained my leadership of the group and how it all started, since Savannah, since the Dixon’s house.

“So Daryl thinks you’re dead?” she asked when I finished. She’d also asked questions during the tale, to understand it better.

I felt like crying again when I said “He does… And the way he screamed…” and I didn’t hold anymore, I cried again.

“They’re still out there,” Mich squeezed my hand and said it firmly. “They might think you’re dead but you know they’re alive. We can find them.”

We.

“We’ll stay together now, right?” I asked her, nodding with a hope she’d say yes.

“We absolutely will,” she said with total certainty.

“Do you have a group?”

She smiled sadly, shaking her head. “No. It’s just me. I’ve been alone since the beginning.”

I reached out for her other hand, now holding firmly to both of them. “Not anymore. You’re not alone.”

She smiled tearfully as she nodded. She pulled me for a hug again and I was so relieved to have found someone I trusted so much, someone I had loved as a sister one day in the past. It was like a balm to be feeling something good among so much sadness.

“Now…” she said as she let me go. “What about this belly there? Daryl’s?”

“Not technically… But after we got together he said he wanted it. So yeah… It’s Daryl’s.”

“Damn… Must be hard for him to think he’s lost not only you but his baby too…”

“God…” I cried. “This hurts so much because I can imagine what he’s feeling. It would have killed me if it was him…”

“He’ll make it through it.”

Oh, something bad had happened.

“Mich… Who did you lose?”

Her eyes went vacant in an instant. She looked away and down and I knew whoever it was, it was still fresh, it still hurt just to think of it.

“Can’t speak if it… Not yet,” she said, her voice grave.

“It’s okay. I’ll be here when you want to talk,” I whispered at her and saw her nod, still not looking at me. I was silent for a moment before speaking again. “Andrea lost her sister,” I told her and Michonne looked at me and then at the sleeping Andrea. “Not long ago. It’s been… God, feels like a year but… Two weeks ago? So much’s happened since then…”

“We’ve all been hurt, one way or another… Sometimes I don’t even know what the hell I’m still fighting for.”

I thought for a moment. “People kept saying it was the apocalypse. The end of the fucking world. But… We’re still here. Ain’t we? We’re here, alive. Finding old friends,” I smiled at her and she also did, tight lipped. “And still able to fight, and breathe, and love. So the world ain’t really over, is it? We’re still here.”

She smiled at me, eyes shining with tears. “We’re still here.”

[readyplayerhobi]

Insert Quippy Title Here!!

; Deadpool!Jimin x Reader

; Genre: Smutty smut smut smu- okay there’s some fluff and crack too

; Word Count: Long..like my di- (8.5k)

; Warnings: Everything bab- (WOULD YOU LET ME SPEAK?!) oral sex (hola senor blowjob), masturbation (sweet baby grapes yes), anal play ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  crude language (what are you 12?), unprotected sex (stay safe kids!), spanking

; Synopsis: There is no synopsis. It’s just you...me...and a real good time sweet cheeks.

; A/N: This just came about because I talked about it with @yminie. Probably not as funny as I thought it was...there’s a plot if you squint somewhere. Supposed to be a drabble. Evidently not.

-

The living room is quiet until suddenly a figure jumps up from behind the couch, jolting in surprise as he turns round and catches sight of the reader. A black gloved hand presses against the red leather that covers his chest while the white eye circles of his face mask become overly exaggerated.

“Oh...you scared me there. I was just...cleaning...for dust bunnies. Behind the couch. Definitely not playing with tiny unicorn toys. No way. You’re dead wrong. And if you tell my girlfriend. I will call you a liar. A big...beautiful liar.” He moves around the couch in tiny, awkward movements before his hand flicks quickly as he throws something away.

The toy unicorns hit the ground with tiny plastic thumps but he lets out a high pitched giggle that distracts attention. “So...you may recognise me. I’m kind of a big deal. At least, I think I’m a big deal. You may recognise me from that super awesome comic series, or even the really, hugely successful films that have come out starring the incredibly handsome Ryan Reynolds. What a face, am I right?”

He sits down, grumbling slightly when one of the swords on his back catches the couch pillow before he throws it to the side and leans backwards, spreading both arms while crossing a leg over his knee.

“So...my story. I have many...many different stories. And this is a...a little one. A short one. Just for you guys. My sweet, beautiful, loyal people.” A kiss is blown. “My name is Park Jimin, and I’m one handsome motherfucker if I do say so myself.” His head tilts to the side before shrugging.

“A few things to make clear before we move on with this ‘totally-not-fanfiction’ story. Number one, if you’re questioning where the extra four inches went compared to Ryan Reynolds,” He shifts slightly and strokes his ass. “Prime Park ass, right here. Perfect.” Bringing his fingers together, he blows another kiss.

“Secondly, I cannot be held accountable if you fall in love with me. I’m sorry my darlings, but it just can’t be. Fourthly, I was born in Busan first - wait I’m not supposed to know that yet. Fifthly...is that a word? Wait...did I miss a number? Did I? Whatever. What was I going to say?” Everything starts to go black and he jerks around, complaining loudly.

“Wait, no! STOP IT! You come back here camera! DON’T TAKE ME AWAY FROM THE-wait I have to go so the story starts? Oh...okay, capiche.” He finger guns to the side before saluting. “Enjoy table fuckers. I LOVE YOU SPIDER-MAN!” He screams before everything stops.

-

The first time you’d ever met Park Jimin, he’d been regaling the room with a story about a fuzzy unicorn that had come into his room and given him a blowjob in the middle of the night. He’d been high at the time of course, but you’d come to learn that Jimin’s mind genuinely worked that way sometimes.

The scarred yet incredibly handsome man had an infectious personality that both exasperated and amused you, pulling you in while simultaneously making you want to push him away. He’d been a complete enigma to you, still was sometimes, and you often wondered if he was actually okay.

Yet despite the foul mouth he had on him, he’d proven to be a loyal friend to you once he’d let you inside those high walls. It had taken two years of friendship, with him scurrying off at random points and blurting out the most obscene comments, before you finally asked him on a date.

At the time, he’d been incredulous, pointing to himself frequently and asking if you were aware who you were asking out. He was loud mouthed and occasionally offensive, but he had a heart of gold and a little bit of insecurity to go along with it. How could you not fall in love with him?

Honestly, he probably only dated you for the first few months to see if you’d actually stay around or if he was going to find out that it was some big, elaborate prank. It hadn’t been, as you’d genuinely found him attractive and his personality infectious, despite the concerns from your friends and family.

And yet...once he’d realised that you were staying with him because of him and not some dumb bet you’d made with Yoongi, he’d lowered his guard with you. Maybe too much actually. He had odd habits. Like some weird overgrown cat, he’d started to leave you presents in your home. Teddy bears, gummy sweets...even a hosepipe, which had been bizarre until he had simply shrugged and said they were on sale at Home Depot.

You didn’t even have anywhere to use a hosepipe. You lived in an apartment in the city, which he knew about.

If anything, you often got the impression that Jimin didn’t really have many real interactions with people who weren’t his best friend. In fact, it was a constant surprise to you that Taehyung was friends with Jimin...because he was as normal as apple pie.

And yet the feeling that there was something special about Jimin had gone on unabated, He would vanish at the weirdest times, say the oddest things on the phone sometimes and he also had the most unreal skills when it came to games or anything sports like - even if he did whine like a soccer mom at a PTA meeting.

His distinctly odd behaviour, which says a lot given how unusual he behaves anyway, had meant that the revelation of his alter ego had been anti-climatic. Like getting excited to go for a meal at your friends house and then finding out you have to eat a salad, not exactly nutritious and about as filling as the dick you’d had on prom night.

Honestly, he was a bit of an idiot sometimes. You’d been dating six months when you found out, walking into his apartment with a box of pizza in your arms only to discover your frequently ebullient boyfriend half naked.

That, was not the unusual bit. He liked to walk around in his tight Spider-Man briefs, pointing out the cute cartoon face on them frequently before asking if you’d like to touch his dick. Or his Spider-Man toys. So no, being half naked was not the bit that had made you raise your eyebrows, even if your boyfriend was insanely ripped for a ‘delivery boy’.

No, it had been the red and black leather suit that he’d been tugging on, one arm already inserted before he’d frozen in place. Your jaw had dropped at the sight, eyes going almost comically wide as he stood awkwardly, the famous mask with two black areas under the white eyes staring up at you from the couch.

“Listen, let’s be honest. This is not the weirdest thing you’ve caught me doing.” He’d stated bluntly, his tone very calm for someone whose girlfriend was finding out his super-alter ego. You’d gone to argue with him, placing the box of pepperoni pizza on the side table and stepping closer before stopping when he raised his hand.

“Remember that time I got so high I tried to smoke a cat’s tail? Or the time you caught me eating Play-Doh because Taehyung swore to me that it was edible candy? Which it wasn’t, the fucker. I had the worst shits for a week. Or that time you found me trying to suck my own di-” You’d held your own hand up then, eyes goggling before you’d simply sat on the couch and opened the box.

“No, you know what? You’re right. This is definitely not the strangest thing I’ve ever found you doing. Carry on Mr Superhero. I can’t guarantee there’ll be pizza waiting whenever you’re done.” You’d mumbled around a slice, moaning softly at the delicious taste of rich cheese combining with smokey pepperoni.

Jimin had stood at the door, his mask grasped in a tightly fisted black leather gloved hand while a look of childish petulance had taken over at the sight of you eating the pizza. “Not fair. You know I love the pepperoni from Jimmy’s! This is unjust torture. This is illegal. I’m calling the United Nations!”

He’d stormed out then before running back in and grabbing a slice, shouting out loudly that he loved you like Trump loved money and disappearing. You’d been in bed when he’d come back, neither of you commenting on his earlier antics.

As such, you’d slid into a strangely comfortable relationship that was open and honest. Your only requirement was that he a) not die, which apparently was like impossible for him or something, and b) not kill people in front of you. He’d bitched about it like a weak ass celebrity rapper in a feud looking for attention but accepted it.

He was still possibly the oddest person you’d ever met, but over the last 2 years of dating you’d gotten used to it. Which was why you were only mildly exasperated at his current antics in the middle of the restaurant you’d brought him to for your twice monthly date.

“Jimin, we’re supposed to be like...on a date. With each other. So like...why are you staring at those pictures of Spider-Man?” You ask, frowning as he sits frozen in place with his gaze firmly centered on the magazine. In it, there’s a double spread picture of Spider-Man in all his glory, his firm and toned body stretched out as he swoops through New York City.

Where he’d even pulled that from, you didn’t know, but he’d found it all the same. And Spider-Man was like catnip to Jimin.

“Have you ever...have you ever seen such beauty? It’s like...he’s like...if Chris Hemsworth had a baby with Chadwick Boseman and then that guy had a baby with Chris Evans and then that guy had a baby with Lupita Nyong’o and then THAT girl had a baby with Ji Chang Wook and then-” You cut him off with a raised hand.

“I get it. It’s like a lot of beautiful people improbably had babies with each other to produce the most beautiful person in the world. You do realise, you have no idea who Spider-Man is right? He might be the ugliest person in the world for all you know.” You reason with him, running a finger along the printed image of Spider-Man’s stomach.

He looks at you with wide eyes before pointing at his own scarred face, causing you to scoff and roll your eyes at his self-deprecation. “Look at his thighs though. I wish I was in the Avengers. I mean...my god. Those thighs are like...works of art. It’s like...Michelangelo and Raphael had a baby and-” Reaching forward, you press your hand to his mouth firmly.

“If you fucking say the word baby one more time, I will stab you in the dick with a fork.” Beneath your hand, you can feel his lips pulling into a grin while his brows wiggle. Leaning back, you cross your arms over your chest and wait to hear what he’s thinking.

“Baby...I didn’t know you were into that kind of thing. Let’s swing by the grocery store after this and pick up a cutlery set. What’s your thoughts about egg cups?” Lips twitching, you look away as your head shakes exasperatedly. Honestly, you wonder how on earth he always has a quip for everything.

“Seriously though. Those thighs. I mean...he can jump as high as a building so they’re packing some punch. What I wouldn’t give to get my ribcage smashed in by him. He looks like he could like...crush a mountain between those big and juicy thighs. I want to be that mountain. I want him to crack me like an egg and then do it all over again.” He looks up at you with eyes that are wide, his pupils blown out and you bite your lip to stop laughing.

“Are you hard?” You ask, your voice almost flat with expectation and zero surprise. Jimin looks down at his own lap and rubs a hand over his crotch slowly, brow raised.

“My penis is erect. Yes. I can’t help it. He just...turns me on so much. I can use it on you if you’d like? Forget about fork play. What’s your thoughts on role play? In particular...have you ever considered wearing a Spider-Man cosplay outfit? Because...I think you could work it. And you know that I have a strap-on that you can use. On me. Obviously. Please. It’s my one fantasy.” He begs, crossing his fingers together as he begs you from across the table.

Your brow raises as you watch him in amusement. “I thought your fantasy was to fuck on the wings of an airplane when it’s at full height?” He had very strange fantasies.

He pauses with plump lips wide open and those brown irises becoming more visible as his excitement deflates. “That’s one of them. But it’s kind of hard to fulfill you know. People generally need oxygen at that level and it’s really cold. I’m into some kinky shit but...dead people is a step too far. Even for me baby doll.”

Sighing deeply, you pinch your nose with your fingers as you breath out slowly afterwards. Centering yourself, you look back up at him with a fond smile as you reach across and take his hand, squeezing tightly.

“I’m not Spider-Man, and I’m not into stabbing you with cutlery. Nor can I fuck you on a plane. But I can give you a really good blow job and hopefully mind numbing sex back at mine if you’d like? A little vanilla but...oh well.” His own dark brow raise up and he runs a hand through his dark hair.

“What about a little anal play?” He lifts his fingers and moves them to give an inch gap, his pink tongue poking through his lips. You raise a brow and poke at your cheek with your own tongue.

“Not really in the mood for that tonight babe.” Jimin rolls his eyes at that and mimics you exaggeratedly, causing your eyes to narrow. He catches it and holds his hands up placatingly.

“Not you. Me. Just...give me a little something-something you know? Please.” Sighing, you gesture to the waiter for the bill as you take a final sip of your water, smiling at him as you lean forward.

“Fine.” Jimin dances in his seat excitedly, his bright smile taking over his face and you laugh quietly. Paying the bill, you’d both agreed a while ago to alternate between paying which was why you’d chosen something particularly cheap today, you stand up and take his hand when he gives it.

“Let’s go fuck my ass!” He says out loud, causing the rest of the patrons of the restaurant to stare with wide eyes. Cheeks heating up at his loud comment, you groan and push him to the exit as quickly as possible.

“Do you have no shame?!”

“Does Tony Stark have too much money? Hell no! On that note, don’t you think it’s unfair that we don’t get paid for like...saving the world? I mean...it’s a public service you know. In fact, they even tried to charge me for breaking a store window. Excuse me! But if it wasn’t for me...they’d be dead!” Jimin continues on down the street, causing you to sigh good naturedly.

You spot a shortcut that would cut out at least ten or fifteen minutes of your journey between two buildings while he rants and gently tug him towards it. The closer you got, the more he slowed down until it felt like you were trying to drag a toddler.

Actually you were lucky, there had been occasions when Jimin had just gotten onto the floor and whined. You’d, literally, had to drag a grown man across the floor.

Looking down the grim alley with a grimace, Jimin hesitates slightly before looking back at you. His eyes widen almost comically before he pulls an overly exaggerated grimace, whining and stamping his feet.

“Do we have to go down the dark and scary alley with a completely unarmed and untrained woman on my arm? Or can we just go to the well lit street and get a taxi back home?” He asks deadpan, causing you to raise a brow.

“It’s just an alley Jimin, calm down. Besides, you have like...crazy superpowers. If we’re attacked, just fight them. And you can’t die either.” He scoffs at that as he follows you, kicking at an empty can petulantly as his thumbs hook onto his belt loop.

“Yeah, okay. I’m just going to say that though I can’t die, it fucking hurts. Imagine your neck being snapped and then having to re-snap it back into place! Sweet baby Jesus and all the disciples, it’s like a pain you’ve never known. And you never will, because it will kill you. And we’re not testing that okay?” He mutters, causing to chuckle lightly at him as you wrap your arms around one well built arm.

“Is someone scared of the scary alley?” You pout to him, sticking your lower lip out almost comically. He gasps theatrically and places a hand on his chest daintily, leaning back to give it maximum effect.

“Moi? Scared of a creepy alley that is obviously going to be filled with enemies that I have to defeat because that’s how stories with superheroes go? Don’t be silly. I’m just annoyed at the poor plot choice here. That plot hole is so big, I can almost fit my dick in it. It’s almost like this story is being written by an amateur fanfiction writer.” He glares at some unseen figure in the sky, causing your brows to crease together.

“I’m going to elect to ignore that bizarre comment.” You mumble, tugging him forward when you can see the end of the alley.

Sudden movement from behind a dumpster has you freezing and you watch as a guy stands up, holding a knife out at you both. Jimin lets out quite possibly the world’s loudest groan at the sight, throwing his hands in the air.

“Fucking really? Really? This is...ridiculous. Come on General Fucknugget, just...lay off it tonight. I’m on a date with my girl and I’m going home for banging sex. No, you’re not invited.” He rolls his eyes, shifting his weight onto one leg as he eyes the man grumpily.

The guy sneers in response, waving the knife between you both as he grunts out. “Gimme your valuables. All of it. And your money.” Jimin mutters to himself softly, something about lame plots and superhero origin stories.

“Dude, you’re totally lucky I’m not in my suit right now. Or you’d realise this is a bad idea.” Your boyfriend tries to placate him, admirably holding onto his snark and temper given that he’s in the presence of you. But the guy ignores him and lunges forward, shaking the knife even more violently.

“Give it to me, or I’ll cut you!” At that, Jimin pauses and snorts out loud before eyeing the guy.

“Wow...scary. Did your mom write that? I mean...I doubt it...she was being a lot more creative when my dick was in her last night.” He sneers, baring his teeth at the mugger while his fingers curl up into fists.

At that, the guy gives a snarl of his own and jerks forward once more. “I’m gonna cut those pretty eyes right out of your fucking head while your girlfriend watches, then fuck her too.” You watch with wide eyes, gripping onto Jimin’s shirt to hold back before your boyfriend bursts into laughter suddenly.

“Oh geez. Oh man, so dark. You must be from the DC Universe! Tell me, is Henry Cavill still Superman or has he really left? I mean...after that performance in Mission Impossible, he should have just shaved off his moustache for that weird scene. Christ, it was not worth keeping that facial hair.” Both you and the guy pause, looking at each other almost comically in confusion before Jimin suddenly lashes out with a hard push that has the guy rocking back a few steps.

“Hey! Asshole!” The mugger shouts out, spitting on the ground to add to the waste that’s already littering it. Your nose wrinkles at the sight, until you notice another guy slowly coming forward from further down the alley. He too has a knife in his hand and you feel Jimin sigh.

“Oh look, it’s the weekly Dumbass Anonymous meeting. Fun. If your General Fucknugget, then is this Captain Cheese Dick? If I had my swords then you guys would be fucked!” He threatens, perhaps a little empty given he’s just waving his arms around now. The threat is obviously useless as they just laugh, eyeing the fact that he has no obvious weapons.

“Babe...do something already!” You whisper furiously, fully aware that Jimin could take out these two guys in only a few seconds. Compared to what he normally deals with, this is nothing! He turns around at that, ignoring the two and looks at you incredulously.

“Seriously? With what? Interpretative fucking dance? This isn’t Guardians of the Galaxy, I can’t win with a dance off. They have knives! And I have nothing but my dashing good looks and sharp quips.” He jerks his head at that, running a hand through his hair almost model-esque and you refrain from rolling your eyes. You’d only get eye strain from how many times you have to do it.

“I don’t know! A brick? There’s lot of them!” You say, pointing to the chipped bricks that litter the ground. He eyes them with disdain at first before those orbs light up with a sudden idea. Grinning, he wraps his arms around you tightly and spins you around before dropping you back down.

“Genius babe! It worked in the second film, so it’ll work now. Damn, who knew you were meta too?” You have no idea what he’s talking about but he picks up a brick and throws it in the air, catching it with ease. “Say hello...to my bricky friend.”

At that, he launches the brick at the first guys stomach and you shuffle backwards as you watch the guy bend over, wheezing as he holds his abdomen in pain. Jimin ignores him however and launches himself at the other guy, sprinting forward before suddenly sliding underneath him in a slick, impressive move. He spins around with his leg outstretched and the other guy falls over with a yelp as his own legs are knocked out from under him, the knife clattering to the ground.

With lightning fast moves, Jimin grabs the knife and slams the handle into the guys head, knocking him out cold on the floor before he’s up and moving once more. The first mugger is standing gingerly, with his knife held out in front of him as he tracks Jimin’s movements warily.

The corner of Jimin’s mouth ticks up and you can almost see the pleasure he gets out of this as he teases the guy, jerking his body one way before moving the other in rapid movements. After a few of those, he jumps forward and grabs hold of the guys arm, holding it out straight as he slams his body into outstretched part.

He’s moved in the direction the arm doesn’t bend and there’s a sickening crunch that ricochets in the alley, followed quickly by the guys sharp scream. Letting the guys arm go, Jimin pivots in place and performs the most perfect roundhouse kick to the head, leg straight and muscles straining from the effort, sending the guy crashing to the ground.

Picking up the fallen knife, Jimin drops down to straddle the guy and lifts it high in the air. “This is for threatening my girlfriend you ass. And for doing crime. Crime is bad! Did you never go to school? Or even watch a police chase programme? Or listen to Captain America?”

You rush forward at that, grabbing Jimin’s arm and making him drop the knife. He looks at you exasperated as you shake your head. “No killing when I’m here remember!” You hiss at him. He stares for a moment before groaning and letting his head fall back.

“You’re so lucky Mr Crime Man, that Batman over here doesn’t approve of me killing dudes around her. Each person I kill gets me a one week sex ban. So...in the name of my hard on, you are free to live another day.” He leans forward suddenly until he’s nose to nose with the mugger, whose eyes go wide as he cradles his arm tenderly. “But if you do anything again, I’m gonna make you get real acquainted with my swords. Remember the name, Martha and Stewart. Because they’ll be the last things you ever se-”

You interrupt him suddenly. “Really? You named your swords Martha Stewart? Oh my god. I’m dating a fucking nerd. I thought you called them Scarlett Johansson?” The words are said with just a tiny, read - a lot, of sarcasm and Jimin grits his teeth as he glares at you.

“Babe. I’m trying to be scary here. Can you criticise my sword name choice later? And they were, but I got the feeling you didn’t like them being named after someone so beautiful so I changed it. Anyway, not important!” He hisses before going back to the mugger.

“Right yeah. Blah, blah. Scary threat. Tell all your friends that Deadpool is watching for you. Dick ass.” He stands up at that, bringing up two fingers to his eyes before gesturing them back to the guy menacingly as you both walk down the whole alley.

You pull his hand away as you sigh. “Stop doing that. What are you? Ten?”

Jimin snorts as he wraps his arm around your waist comfortably, pulling you flush to his side as he wiggles his brows. “Inches yes. All the more to please you with baby. Kim Taehyung has got nothing on this Big Dick Energy.”

You don’t even both to answer him as you walk down the street to your apartment, just happy he didn’t kill a man in front of you. He always complained that your apartment was in a crappy area, but you often just pointed out that he lived in an abandoned warehouse in the middle of drug dealing gangs.

Your place at least had a bunch of stores nearby, so there were perks to that. Which he’d conceded to, acknowledging that the Korean store nearby had the best pre-packaged kimchi outside of Korea itself.

Probably a lie, but whatever.

Shoulder barging the door open, you let him into your place before closing the door and locking all four locks carefully. He watches with a raised brow, flicking the plywood door with a sneer. “I could break this with my pinky finger babe. It’d take nothing for someone to get in here, and then it’s welcome to Deadtown, population...you. And I’ll be unhappy if you die, just FYI. I may even go full on Celine Dion like in the film.”

Frowning at him, you move past him before going into the bedroom. He follows behind you, still complaining about your apartment and you turn around midway through stripping off, shirt thrown into the clothes bin.

“Do you want to get laid or would you rather keep sucking your own dick? Sounds like you’re doing a good job of it right now.” You state plainly, turning around as you unbutton your jeans. The sound of fabric moving from behind you tells you that he’s stripping off too, neither of you feeling the need to be too sexy right now.

“Maybe I wouldn’t suck my own dick if I didn’t do it so well.” He mutters and you spin around, crossing your arms over chest. It immediately pushes your breasts up and he pauses halfway through unzipping his jeans to stare.

“You have nice tits. Have I told you that before? Real...real nice. Come here sweet thing, let me suck on them. I know you like that.” He grins, pretty smile taking over. You wish he wasn’t so beautiful, it’d be easier to stay mad at him sometimes.

Rolling your eyes, you move over to him and let him wrap his arms around your shoulders, kissing your hair as his hands slide down your body to cup your hips. Slipping his fingers underneath the waistband of your panties, he pulls them back and lets the elastic snap against your hips.

The slight pain makes you hiss as you glare up at him, digging your own fingers into the firm meat of his hips. Immediately he’s grinning and pressing against your ass, pushing you into his crotch where you feel his hard erection already ready.

“I like that baby doll. How about you tie me up, slap me and call me Mandy?” He whispers into your ear, licking along the edge of your ear lobe before sucking it into his lips seductively. The feeling makes you shudder, eyelids fluttering shut before you register his words and pull back with narrowing eyes.

“Are you serious?” You can never tell sometimes with him.

“No, I’m Mandy. I just said.” Staring at him, you groan and pull out of his arms, shoving your underwear down your legs and stepping out of them before heading over to the bed. Sitting on the edge you point at him as he tugs off his own jeans and underwear, thick cock bouncing in the air once released.

You eye it for a moment with desire, thighs clenching at the sight of him ready and let out a soft sigh of excitement. He’s an oddjob, but Jimin has yet to fail you in the bedroom. Even if he did have the most ridiculous tastes in kinks and fetishes. And he had the most unbelievably hot body, toned and muscular in all the right places.

“I’m not calling you Mandy. Sweet Delilah, can we just fuck?” The words are sighed from you and you watch exasperatedly as his eyes light up at your words. Walking over to you with that seductive swagger, he stands in front of you and places his hands on his hips, cock waving proudly in the air while a drop of pearlescent pre-cum beads at the tip.

“Oh yeah, call me Delilah baby.” Groaning loudly, you shuffle backwards onto the bed and move onto your knees, reaching between your thighs and rubbing at your aching clit with experienced fingers. He watches for a moment, his eyes focused firmly at the centre of your body as you dip your fingers into your entrance, coating them in your slickness before toying with the excited bundle of nerves.

“I’m not calling you any names.” You glare, moving forward to grab the bottle of lube out of the cupboard. Reaching over, you grab his dick and ever so gently coax him forward before coating him in the clear lubricant.

Leaning forward, you lick along the hard ridge of the underside of his cock, the shaft jerking under your touch and he grunts quietly. Sucking the tip of him into your mouth, you take as much of him as you can in one go before slowly pulling back, hollowing out your cheeks to give him a crazy amount of pressure.

His hand grips at your hair tightly and you can tell he’s into it by the way his hips rock in tiny movements, his desire to go harder warring with his need to not hurt you. Moving off him, you gasp lightly for breath as you admire the string of saliva that drips off the end of his penis, smirking slightly before licking the sensitive skin of his frenulum.

“How about you just fuck me tonight? No weirdness.” You whisper, moving away and getting onto your hands and knees. Lifting the hand you’d lubed him up with, you rub at your needy clit in slow circles, coating yourself in more wetness while exciting him in turn.

His eyes are dark, the deep brown of his irises almost swallowed whole by the blackness of his pupils. A wet, pink tongue flicks out to lick at his plush lips and his decision is made, climbing onto the bed and positioning himself behind you.

“God, you have the tightest fucking ass. You know that? It’s like...like a fucking peach. Like I’m just...fucking a fruit. Not that I’ve ever done that. And if Taehyung ever tells you that I fucked a watermelon, he’s lying. It was a cantaloupe. And it kind of hurt.” He goes off on some weird tangent, somehow still hard despite the way his mind is thinking about distinctly unsexy things.

You’re about to complain at him before he slaps your ass hard, the distinct crack of flesh upon flesh heard before you feel the sting of the pain. Hissing, you bite your lip as a moan leaves you at the sensation and he chuckles.

“Good thing you don’t bruise like a peach though. I don’t like you bruised.” He mutters, stroking at the smarting skin gently. You feel his cock stroke up through your slippery folds, the tip of him rubbing against your clit in a pleasing manner before he’s moving himself upwards, letting the length of his cock rest between your ass cheeks as he thrusts slowly.

“I know you said no weird stuff, but what about if you finger my ass?” Jimin asks suddenly, sliding himself into you in one quick and hard thrust. The breath leaves you instantly as he does so and you choke on a moan, fists clenching the sheets beneath you as he begins to move in short and sharp thrusts.

“I can’t...reach your ass...idiot.” You whisper, each breath ending on a whimpering moan. He lets out a sigh that has absolutely nothing to do with the pleasure he’s feeling and you almost want to reach back and pinch him.

“Damn, it’s not fun when I do it. What about if you let me finger your ass?” He runs his finger along your ass crack as he says this, stroking the area where he’s sliding in and out to coat his finger in slickness before moving it back up to play with the puckered rim of muscle above it.

Rolling your eyes, you nod your head as let yourself fall to your elbows. Jimin lets out a whoop of joy, grabbing the bottle of lube from where you’d dropped it and coating two fingers liberally before letting some dribble down onto your ass.

“Oh baby cakes, we’re going to have some fun. Or I am. Hopefully you will too. If it hurts, tell me.” He says sternly and you know that he’ll stop if you ask. Jimin always does.

His thrusts slow as he wiggles a finger into you, coaxing your tight muscles to relax before he slips inside to the first knuckle. He makes sure to lean round, playing with your clit with his other hand as his hips move in shallow movements, ensuring you get as much pleasure as possible as he slowly works his finger inside.

Once you’re moaning and pushing your hips back against him, he lets out a chuckle and slowly begins to insert a second, stretching the muscles and causing the slightest burning pain. Your breath leaves you in a hiss from between your teeth and you close your eyes, keeping yourself as relaxed as you possibly can.

“That’s it baby girl. Oh...you’re taking daddy’s fingers so well aren’t you? Look at that tight ass, reminds me of that time I fucked Tae-” You jerk your hips backwards in a forcible movement, clenching as tightly as you can around his cock until he’s choking out a breath.

There’s a lot you’ll accept with him, but talking about another man or woman in bed while he’s balls deep in you is not one of them. “Message acknowledged. Don’t talk about other folk when fucking you. Sorry.” He doesn’t even bother to be funny, his cock twitching inside you while his breathing quickens.

The entire time, he’s been stroking at the engorged centre of pleasure between your thighs and you can feel yourself quivering from the combined stimulation of his fingers on your clit, in your ass and the constant pounding of his cock against your g-spot.

“Oh fuck, Jimin.” You whisper, the sound strained as your entire body jerks from the pleasure. He grins even though you can’t see him and murmurs soft encouragements until it’s all too much and he’s got you on the brink of falling over the precipice of pleasure into the pit of orgasm.

“If you want to cum...you know what to call me.” He whispers into your ear, biting at your shoulder seductively before licking along the sensitive flesh. Your mind is almost whiting out and you want to complain at him, but if you do he’ll just stop.

It takes half a lucid moment to remember what he’d said earlier and you groan in annoyance, the tight ball of pleasure in your stomach demanding the release that is so close. “Fuck me, please let me cum…Mandy.” You practically choke on the words.

“Oh sweet dimple crumpets, yes!” He yells out and the effect is immediate with his hips almost pistoning into you, everything suddenly amplified from the movement and the extra sensations cause you to orgasm almost immediately. The muscles in your body tighten and your inner walls convulse around him tightly, the combination of you engaging in his weird kink and your orgasm causing him to judder as he empties himself into you.

By the time you both finish, you lay on the bed tiredly and feel him cuddle up behind you. Muttering out a complaint, you push his hand away and point at the bathroom lazily, causing him to chuckle.

He gets up and walks away, turning round suddenly to blow a kiss to you with his non-lubed up hand. “I love you my sweet, beautiful girlfriend. My pumpkin pie. The love of my life.”

You don’t even bother to respond as he carries on, eyes closing as you doze off slowly.

-

It’s a week later when the highlight of Jimin’s entire life happens. You wish that you could say that it would be the day that you get married, but honestly it would probably still be today. Because today is the day that Jimin met his fantasy person.

You’d both been out in the city, going on a very casual date together when a sudden group of super villains had run riot in the main park. Why they’d chosen that park, and why that day, you had no idea.

But Jimin had made you hide out in a store nearby while he’d run off to go change into his suit. You’d pointed out many times that it was impractical to keep on underneath his clothes, to which he’d whined intensely about it being harder to get into a superhero suit that it was for a rich, white person to get sent to prison.

Either way, he’d gone running past five minutes later in his full outfit, the swords on his back and you’d had a moment to wonder where the fuck he’d kept them. His prison wallet?

It was only when the sound of explosions began ten minutes later that you’d run out of the cafe to the park, the unreasonable panic you’d had at the prospect of your boyfriend being hurt spurring you on.

The logical part of your mind had been telling you that it was fine. Your boyfriend literally had regenerative powers, and he’d discovered that it was nigh on impossible for him to die. But love and all that.

What you’d found however, was Jimin spinning and dancing around in a flurry of astonishingly beautiful kicks and leaps. He’d looked almost elegant, and you’d noted with surprise that he wasn’t actually killing anyone. Instead, he was using the butt of his swords to knock out the bad guys.

A particularly beautiful movement was when he’d ran straight up a tree, leaping off halfway up and twisting his body round as he flew over the head of his assailant. He’d slammed his sword down on the guys head firmly before landing on one foot. In a show of almost sensual flexibility, Jimin had leaned his weight so that he spun on his foot as soon as he landed, producing a hard kick that sent the guy flying ten feet before he lay there, unmoving.

It was only at this point that you realised the fight was over and you’d watched with eyes like plates as a few of the famous Avengers had all come to a stop close to Jimin. The metal suit of Iron Man whirred and clanked as he walked towards Jimin, but it was the red and blue blur that had you feeling giddy on behalf of your boyfriend.

Spider-Man dropped down from the trees, spinning fluidly as he webbed the guy who was down on the ground. Turning around, he let out a yelp as Jimin was suddenly in front of him, reaching forward tentatively.

“Oh my god. Oh my Betty White. Oh sweet Sandra Bullock. It’s you! It’s really you! Can I touch you? Not inappropriately, unless you want that. I’m down for that. My girlfriend knows. You’re my one cheat. You know, that one person you’re allowed to cheat with? You’re mine. She’ll be fine with it.” He mumbles out, his words almost gibberish in his excitement.

The superhero stares at him and even through the mask you can tell that he’s confused. A slow nod is all he does and immediately Jimin is on his knees, hugging the red and blue superheros legs as tightly as he can.

“Ji-What are you doing?” You call out to your boyfriend, watching as everyone suddenly looks up at you. Shrinking slightly, you wince at the intense stares of so many powerful people before moving towards Jimin slowly and carefully, stroking along his arm to let him know you were there.

“You know this guy?” Iron Man asks, his visor opening up and revealing the infamous face of the billionaire tech genius Kim Namjoon. He was beautiful, and beautifully loaded. Maybe you’d change your one cheat to be this guy. Jimin would appreciate the extra money for sure.

Stuttering, your hand moves to Jimin’s head and the feel of his mask confuses you for a moment. Biting your lip, you cough quietly before giving a slow smile to them all. Jimin would kill you if you blew this for him.

“I do. He’s my boyfriend.” At that, you note Hawkeye’s brows raise up in surprise, causing you to scowl. “Don’t look like that Robin Hood. He’s a good guy okay? Odd, but good.” You say defensively, causing him to hold his hands up.

“Oh well...thanks. I guess. We had it under control but...we appreciate your...help.” Doctor Strange states, walking up behind everyone while his red robe flutters dramatically in the non-existent breeze. You watch with fascination as he draws a few symbols that glow orange and crackle in the air before the ground beneath the bad guy nearby opens up, his body vanishing through.

Wow...maybe you might change your one cheat to this guy. He was Hot. With a capital H. Perfectly styled black hair that pushed up off a smooth forehead, a pixie-esque nose and a jawline to rival Jimin’s. Jimin always joked about this guy but...he was hot.

“Can I get between your thighs and you squeeze real hard? It’s always been a fantasy of mine.” Jimin says, his voice almost dreamy as he strokes along Spider-Man’s thigh. You’d be worried that the superhero feels uncomfortable, but he surprisingly doesn’t move away or discourage your boyfriend.

Still, you lean forward and give a slight embarrassed smile. “I’m sorry...if he’s being awkward. If you feel uncomfortable, feel free to push him away. He’ll listen, I swear.” You say.

The superhero shakes his head and gestures to him with a laugh. “No, it’s fine. Amusing actually. It’s a great story that I can tell others I guess. How many other people get Deadpool on his knees?” He teases and you laugh back, rolling your eyes.

“You’d be surprised. Or if you actually knew him, you wouldn’t be surprised at all.” The both of you ignore Jimin’s childlike gasp of wonder as he whispers about the fact Spider-Man knows his name.

Iron Man steps forward and gestures for Spider-Man to step back, which he does slowly and almost reluctantly. You’re half wondering if there’s a real chance that you could lose your boyfriend here, but Jimin surprisingly stands up and moves back, taking hold of your hand without any prompting.

“So...does this mean I can join the Avengers?” Jimin asks bluntly. “I mean...I’m kinda awesome and will probably outlive you all. Except Captain America. And Thor. And a few others. But still. I helped out right?”

Iron Man lets out an awkward chuckle, his lips curving up and revealing a beautiful set of deep dimples. Running his fingers through his hair, he sighs deeply. “I’m sorry, but we can’t let you do that. Despite the fact you’ve sent us like...three hundred postcards asking to be let in. You should stop that by the way, it’s just costing you money.”

Jimin stares in shock at the blunt statement and you run a hand along his biceps to try and calm him down. He barely even notices though and you can tell he’s pouting underneath the mask. "Whaddya mean I can't join the Avengers? Why not?! Is it ‘cos I’m not in the MCU too?" Namjoon looks confused before giving a placating smile and you wince slightly, fully aware that it’s probably just annoying Jimin even more. You don’t know why he’s bothering, the both of you know that there’s no way in hell he’d be allowed to join the Avengers. "Okay like...you're good...impressive. Very impressive The while not dying thing even if you’re cut into pieces? I will concede that is kind of cool and useful. But you kill people. Not cool." Jimin stares blankly at the superhero, before a brow raises slowly. "I'ma just point out your flaw here, RoboCop. How many people do you guys kill on the regular?" "None, that's the point." Hawkeye scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes note his incredibly built biceps for a moment and you take in his blonde hair, noting that he’s an extraordinarily beautiful man. Like wow. There’s no way Jimin hasn’t noticed that. But Jimin doesn’t react how you’d expect and instead simply glares at him before pointing. "Firstly, if you're gonna claim non-harmful methods than fucking Katniss Everdeen over here needs a new weapon and to chill with the murder sticks he fires. Secondly...how many buildings have you destroyed in your fights? Or cars? Or bridges? Or literally anything else. You literally have a freaking spy assassin, assassin!” He points over at Black Widow who makes an understanding face and shrugs.

Accepting the acknowledgement, Jimin turns back to the others and shifts his weight onto one leg, his hip sticking out while he rests a hand on it. “I fight mano a mano and I ONLY kill bad guys. No civilians. You guys...are murderers. Mur. Der. Ers." He turns to Spider-Man and takes his hand gently, stroking along the suited man’s hand while whispering. "Not you Spider-Man baby, you're an angel and you've never done anything wrong in your life, my sweet cupcake."

Spider-Man stares at him before slowing nodding, not even bothering to move Jimin’s hand. Which you find mildly amusing. Honestly, if Jimin managed to convince the guy for a threesome then you wouldn’t say no.

“Wait...that’s not...no we don’t. We aren’t.” Namjoon says, his plush lips pouting and you note the endearing dimples appearing. Sighing, he lifts a hand to rub at his eyes and you note the way his suit seems to melt away, leaving only tanned skin behind.

“Just...no. Thank you...for your help. Truly. But...no.” Jimin’s about to complain more but suddenly, the suited man’s visor flips down and the boosters on his hands and feet activate, jettisoning him up into the air.

The rest of the Avengers all follow suit in various ways, leaving Jimin clinging onto Spider-Man’s hand. “Spidey...baby...please don’t leave me. I’ll treat you good. I’ll treat you real good!” He screams as the hero awkwardly waves bye and webs away.

Your boyfriend stands for a moment, hands on both hips as he watches before he’s stamping his feet like a child. “Whatever assholes! Half of you die in the movie anyway.” He grumbles, kicking at the floor petulantly.

Sighing, you move over to him and rub at his back soothingly. “It’s okay baby, it’s okay. You can make your own Avengers. Only...with killing allowed I guess. As long as I’m not there.” Tugging his mask off, he gives you an incredulous look.

“Are you fucking kidding? Did you not watch the second movie? Hell no, I’m not making a team. Mommy didn’t raise no idiot. Someone with low sexual morals? Yes. Someone with a dubious sense of right and wrong? Maybe. An idiot? No.” You lean back from him and your own brows raise, causing him to sigh quietly.

“Not all the time. I don’t want another word about that stupid fucking IKEA bookcase. Why do I have to build things myself? I’m a mercenary, not Jesus!” Rolling your eyes, you walk away from him and head out of the park to go to the cafe and wait while he changes back so you can continue on your date.

He follows like expected, carrying on as if you hadn’t just ignored him and walked straight past him. “Get it? Jesus? ‘Cos he was a carpenter? No? I’ll work on it. What about Harrison Ford? He was a carpenter too, you know!”

“Go find your clothes wherever you threw them Jimin.”

“John Carpenter?”

“That’s his name, not his job.”

“Oh really? Damn. Do you think I can change my name to my job too?”

“I don’t think that’s what he did, and what would that be anyway? Mercenary Jimin?”

“Super Awesome Amazing Mercenary With A Handsome Face and Sharp One Liners Jimin.”

“...seriously?”

“You’re right, it’s not everything I do. Damn. I don’t think my passport can hold this much information.”

“That’s not what I...you know what. Nevermind.”

[commonalex]

Aphrodite

(press play, won't bite ya)

aphrodite by common alex

Listen/download: aphrodite by common alex

They really caught my eye by mistake. Couldn’t even make out what was really happening because of the slow daybreak; when I finished parking she was already laid down on the parking lot and this old fuck with his black-as-a-crow dyed hair and this filthy white shirt was stomping her sides. I shout till I get noticed by this dusty boned ass and his halloweeny mustache he rocks in this late September. I sprint (well, supposedly, my lungs aren’t as light as they used to) and he flinches as if he shat his pants towards a old green Citroen bumped to pieces. I swear he was this close getting his ass beat.

-You shouldn’t have done that.

-Are you… okay, lady? Hey, easy easy. No sudden moves, I got a first aid kit back at the truck.

-Oh no. No, don’t you ”lady” me.

With these dark brunette hair, this long black kimono robe tied by her waist and these thick sunglasses hiding her eyes, her age must be somewhere around fifty, maybe less. I see no blood, though, only on her bottom lip and her back from the asphalt; the rest are just bruises by hand or by shoe. I put some old band aids I found along some other (close to be expired) shit and help her to stand while being a bit scared she is way more hurt internally. But even though she stands alright there’s something about her that doesn’t seem quite right.

-Don’t scratch that, let it dry out. What about a hospital, a doctor? Is there anything like that close from here?

-What do you think, big boy?

That I made a stupid question. Why on earth would there be a hospital close to a truck station on the highway? There’s not even a restaurant around here anymore. We barely get a cup of shitty coffee along with overpriced snacks and a chance to piss with the constant risk of getting infected of something too fucked up for science to give it a name yet.

-Where’s your car?

-I don’t have a car.

-Were you brought here?

The sunglasses slowly fell from her straight lined nose for me to see her smudged eyes guiding me to the right. There really was no car. Only an abandoned gas station, a really creepy playground overgrown by weeds and grass and an old caravan, five by three meters with a blue stripe on its side. I look at her for confirmation and I walk her slow as one can go to let her sit on a cheap travel armchair right besides the open wide door of the caravan.

-I’m… Aphrodite. And you?

    Her hesitation right before her name has successfully rang every single bell in existence.

-Does it matter?

She seems unbothered. Knowing my name or not is just the same to her, so to speak; as long as I don’t ask any questions about this pasty prick hitting her a few moments ago.

-Well you’re right about that. How old are you?

-Thirty-three.

-Good for you, you seem nothing like your age. You could tell me you’re twenty six, I’d believe you. 

Wow, she’s really into talking, isn’t she? So much she tries to pull a second chair for me beside her. I take a sec to understand if all this a way of flirting or just an awkward compliment used instead for “thanks” because I was at the wrong place at the right moment.

-Sorry, you caught me at work. A long drive to Romania, really, and if I don’t stick to schedule they’ll come for my ass.

Still, unphased.

But she keeps on digging to me.

-Yeah, I’ve heard that a lot. I mean have you ever seen anyone that you try chatting with them and they aren’t in any rush?

Aphrodite seems kind enough to relieve me from my puzzled face by opening and closing her robe as she speaks, as if I, an engaged dude with two babies back home, am all about that shit right now. And even if I was, just by looking at her breast and legs I get a weird feeling. So I play dumb until she gets tired of trying. She doesn’t. And this woman was lying on a parking lot ten minutes ago.

-Look, I can’t help with anything else. And besides, how can I put it, I don’t really…

She catches up and cuts me off from the worst.

-What you “don’t really”. Fuck hookers or fuck trans?

I can’t stress enough how embarrassed I got between these seconds. For sure I didn’t want to put it like that, but how could I say that without saying it? I simply nodded. She seemed like she understood though. She ties her robe back and drags me to chit chat once again (because she couldn’t drag me inside that greasy caravan), beginning to unfold the story of her life. Literally. Awkward as fuck, but I’d lie if I wasn’t intrigued with her.

She said she was born in a rural town far from here, raised by her “holy as a woman can ever be” grandma Aphrodite (that’s where the name comes from)- she tells me that exact thing about three times. I’m asking for her parents and then waiting her to finish with the endless cursing towards them just so the story continues to the point she reaches fourteen years old. Right there is where she, without a warning, runs away from home to Salonika, the closest big city she could afford to start selling her body.

-I’d be lying if I ever said I didn’t get comfy with work, especially the first few clients. After the initial stress dies down you wait for the instinct of habit. I swear, you could spend a week in this job and nothing would ever surprise you anymore. You can’t imagine what kinds of filth and secrets lie outside. Kinky psychos showing up with their wedding rings on, notorious pimps spending all morning on a tv show asking “where is this country really going with all this filth“, priests. Well, you heard nothing about priests yet, I tell you that.

Aphrodite, an adult now, eventually grows far too big for Salonika and makes a trip down to Athens (as she always intended), finding only more filth and misery inside a poorly lit basement with other prostitutes. Her desperation keeps on popping up here and there for a while because she couldn’t predict things turning so damn shitty and unbearable. She stacks her money little by little and she finally gets her surgery.

-And how was thing afterwards?

-Deep inside I knew this was my time; with the body I should have had. And the best thing was that no new client could ever understand the difference, and even if he did that was the last thing he was concerned with. I was ahead of everyone else in there- all of them. But little did I care about all that, I was made for greater things. I didn’t plan to stay in that fucking basement any longer, getting fucked by the lowest of people. That’s why I got my head down and worked my ass off until I could make a name of myself, until I could make not enough money but the real money. And that was what really got the best of me in the end, I think.

She then “moves” to the biggest red light district of Athens (I mean, of course, where else could she really be, right?) and that’s the point where her story really turns sketchy. Whatever she told me to this minute might be a bit cliche, but still believable. Now she runs over all that, telling me to believe that she managed to get so big she turned to a highly paid escort for rich and powerful people like that (which I guess you could say is plausible, given that she indeed would be beautiful at some point). Just the names and zeros she dropped on the table makes me suspicious as hell. But this isn’t the end, she continues with her Mercedes car she owned and took rides with back at her grandma’s place or with how she was personally invited every time the american fleet stopped in Rhodes and Crete. Like she’s living in a goddamn movie.

-So things get really, and I mean really busy, am I right?

-It didn’t take long for magazines and tv shows for nosy people to notice me. Those were the days, I tell you. You remember the checks I used to get previously? Well you wouldn’t even imagine those. I was called the “trannie”, the “pure Satan offspring”, the “biggest mistake of the nature”- really whatever. I’m still laughing. By the time the camera was switching off everyone was begging for a photoshoot or an interview like their life depended on it. You can’t just pass this opportunity to get famous. It’s as strong as a drug. All this attention, all those lights really make you feel like you’re doing something good at last.

How much time could have passed for the sun to come out full force, burning my back like a motherfucker? I take a peek at my watch and I see it’s quarter past ten. Shit. I really should be going by now. How do I cut it out for her, hoping that she will eventually go to the doctor by herself? How do I escape her mouth from talking so slow or her eyes from following me like a predator’s?

-That’s alright and all, but...

-I know, you can’t tell right now, but everyday I was getting calls and visits from designers at my house by the shore to ask me if I would wear their shit. Yeah, I reached that peak. I mean, would you believe me if I told you I stumbled upon Dolce & Gabbana at the airport? Giving me their cards and all?

No. No I wouldn’t believe you.

-That’s all nice and dandy, Aphrodite, but something’s missing. I mean, what are you doing here? Like, for real.

You can’t make me believe she didn’t expect this to come up eventually, but here she is acting like that. Leaving sighs and staring into nothingness. Her voice even changes up a bit, gets a more serious tone to it, out of the blue.

-Do you really believe prostitutes tend to think about the future? I mean, really? Do they make plans of retirement or something? Especially the trans ones. Let me tell you, most of them can’t even think about making it to thirty, either from someone or themselves. I, personally, chickened out twice and got rescued three times, and you’re coming here telling me if I ever thought I would be here during my old days?

-With all these things you casually spill out of doing in the ‘90s you should be standing above thousands, even millions, with all of the doors wide open for you. What happened? How could you go from a house by the shore, a Mercedes and all these interviews to, you know… This?

    Where, just to remind you, this is a fucked up caravan besides the highway where old fucks are coming to kick her in the neck.

-”What happened”. Like I never asked that to myself. I’m here, sitting and telling you a stuff or two about myself and you have the nerve to pull a “what happened”. What could have happened, big boy? What do you believe?

She seems really sensitive that not only I interrupted her story but in addition I questioned the lies she spices it with. Welp, what can you do, I already threw half of my morning out of the window with this one, we’re only left to see where is she going with all these delusions of her amazingly faked past. Like I have any time to spare.

-Tell me.

-It must be the place, dunno. You, for example, came here maybe for a piss stop and then back to work. And what a demanding work; holding a wheel until you don’t. But what about the whores? Whores got a body to maintain till its expiration date. After that, game over; again, if the make it there. If disgust hasn’t eaten them alive by then. If insecurities about everything starting to loosen up, or the ringing of the phone that eventually will go silent, or reaching the point of begging to keep on living cause family is not an option anymore. They go nuts, you see, they hold on from anything they can reach just to keep on feeling that all this they are going through really mattered. Just to keep on feeling like they are valued.

-So is this why you’re staying here? To feel like this matters? To get beaten up by old fucks and internally accepting it? Why don’t you ask for help?

-This is help. This old fuck is the only one that comes around and throws a penny for me to maintain myself. He’s the only one that fucks me, anyway. That’s why I’m here, for him- it’s his caravan after all. He lives about twenty minutes from here with a wife, kids and grandkids. He just likes to “get it out of his system” once every few days by fucking for free and beating me whenever I mention that I can’t do this anymore, because he is afraid that his whore isn’t loyal to him. But why am I saying all these things to you. I’m wasting my words. You still don’t believe me.

I don’t know where her truth and lies stand anymore, only that if she really lived all these things she’s a massive fool for not writing a book. I, for once, took too much of my time for all this crap. When I started heading back to the track she switched to her first ways, telling me that “I’m doing the right thing” or that the old guy with the mustache “really has a gun and doesn’t mess around”. Yeah, whatever. I get in and peep Aphrodite behind the window waiting on the chair for me to go but something inside makes it hard for me to start the truck. It’s quarter to eleven but her endless chatter seem to get my weariness going. As time passes and the truck stays still, Aphrodite eventually heads back to the caravan shutting the door behind her. I’m kinda relieved. But I’m still madly curious, what can I do? Ah, fuck it, Romania can wait a bit more. I pull out my phone and search blindly, trying to find anything at all.

Aphrodite.

Trans.

Prostitute.

‘90s.

Modeling.

Enter.

I couldn’t feel anything less than a dick at this point. It seems unreal. Not only she was legit, but she toned things down a little in her story. The photoshoots were indeed professional and stunning, while I found an interview of her on an ancient tv talk show I never really knew existed where she explains how much her life changed due to the massive exposure she got at this point. Same as today, minus the touches of time on her. But most of all happy. Really all this attention made her bloom ridiculously. Magazine covers, runways, pageants; all enough to back up not only Aphrodite's public existence but also her relations with really established and rich individuals. And all of there as cute as hell, but where did all these money go? Well, the answer lies to a more recent past, this time inside tabloid news articles.

Only three to four year ago, Aphrodite spawns once again, this time in Jerusalem (what the fuck) in order to get closer with her faith and a highly respected priest there. So damn respected that people wouldn’t stop to talk about their “secret” meetings late at night, to the point where photos and videos leak publicly. Result? These tabloid fucks smell the blood from far, far away and get to hunting the story. The priest goes public, says “sorry guys, my mistake, Satan trapped me and such, didn’t want to, sorry again, peach to all”, gets thrown away from the local church and that was pretty much the end. Aphrodite on the other hand vanishes once again up until this point, right here, on this parking lot besides the highway.

I guess that’s what she meant with that “you heard nothing about priests yet” earlier. Maybe I should have listen more carefully or see her face better in order to recognize her from all this priest thing that blew up literally everywhere back then. Either way, my curiosity stopped killing me but guilt took over me. With my route schedule gone to the shitter already, I knock her caravan door till she opens with death in her eyes. I show her the interview I found on my phone.

-It’s you, isn’t it?

-That’s really a shame, big boy. What do you do with all these truck stuff. You should be working for NASA by now.

I was wrong before. This point right here is where I can’t feel anything less than a dick.

She invited me inside and made me sit right across a really slow fan that was spinning just for the aesthetics in order to make me feel less of a sweaty pig. The caravan looks way more comfy on the inside with a massive bed and a narrow sofa but the mountains of hoarding shit and snack packaging lying around here and there do no favors. It’s a good option for holidays, but absolutely not for regularly living inside of it. Aphrodite doesn’t seem to bother with my snoopy eyes. She holds the phone with both hands while carrying the cold look. As if she doesn’t recognize herself. As if she doesn’t want to.

-When was that?

-Not sure. ‘95? Later than that? I only recall just how rude and creepy this interviewer was. He didn’t hit on me or anything like that, it’s just that he was always an ass kisser in front of you and a shit talker behind your back. I didn’t get how much crude and sarcastic he was in that interview until years later. Now that I think of that, I guess everyone were kind of the same. But these were different times, more fabulous, more sparkly, more…. Innocent? I guess innocent isn’t the right word for it.

Then I show her the article about the priest. She kinda leaves a bitter smile there. She might no look exactly happy but nevertheless she must understood that in the end I kinda cared and dug up her whole history to make it up for myself after treating her like shit. She silently accepts it, even though with her fair share of reservations this time.

-That’s the most recent I could find, there’s nothing next to that. Would you mind telling me what happened next?

-One day my head was about to explode. I couldn’t do this anymore. All I wanted was to somehow save my soul from this pit of crap I ended up, and the idea stuck to me the moment I accidentally found grandma’s cross among my stuff. That was really it. I quit the job, closed my phone and traveled to churches and monasteries, throwing money around to buy a seat next to God. Turns out I found my Devil, though. 

She’s way more reserved than before. I get that all of this might still cut deep and talking about it hurts like a bitch. I tell her she doesn’t really have to say anything she doesn’t want to and I am ready to leave her alone if she asks me to. She calmed my anxious ass with a simple nod.

-And the videos?

-I leaked them. I told you prostitutes don’t think about the future. I couldn’t even think about today at this point of my life; I was really in a shitty place. The priest wanted to go big, a bishop or something like that, and to do that she had to dump me. Like I was the one flirting with him in the first place. And he was the one supporting me, so what the fuck would I do there alone? That’s where a magazine came to me, no idea of its name, put money on my hand for the footage and came back with these money, just so nothing would remind of everything that played out down there. As you’d expect, money didn’t last forever. So I got to a point where I was like “what can I do”? I could never be a beggar and I could never go back to a brothel without people laughing at me, so I went from one old friend to another until someone finally decided to help.

-Someone. Like a cunt.

-Yeah, a cunt, I don’t know. It’s better than nothing.

I ran out of words. I’m no longer curious, no longer so guilty and for sure don’t feel pity for her. I can only say “good luck” and “take care” to her as I walk out; even though neither of these hold any value for her situation. She didn’t wanna hop on the truck because she didn’t feel like she has anywhere to go. I try to make her understand that anywhere is better than this misery and abuse. She responds somewhat philosophical, telling me that who knows, maybe someone might come up on this truck stop and can actually help her. Give her money to live or anything else she needs and then taking he-...

-Aphrodite! Out! Now! 

The shouting from outside got her eyes open wide, staring at the door for a good second. I never believed I could see her scared shitless.

-You shouldn’t have done that, I told you so.

-Is this him?

I didn’t need an answer to that. Her bottom lip shaking like her jaw’s about to fall gives me all the information I need. She pulls my hand from the door to stop me. Too bad I already decided my approach. I smile at her to stop her from panicking and jump out with sun hanging above me. Ten meters on the left there’s the green Citroen with one door open and a bit closer there’s the old bastard standing a bit closer with a shotgun resting in his hands. The truck is straight ahead, forty steps or so. It’s just a sprint as the worst case scenario, big deal. Either way I bet his shaky hands could even load before shooting. Ha, there it is, haven’t I told you, he dropped the fucking shotgun. Ten more steps and hello Romania. I only feel bad that I didn't have the time to greet her for the last time before I go. I yell "goodbye" as I'm running but my voice isn't coming out at all. But again how could it be heard right here, right now with all those bang bang bang bang b…

The only thing I can make out of all this noise is her screaming from the back. 

-No! Oh God!