#so i am kissing that article on the mouth. but then whoever was doing all the documenting doesn't seem to have done so for more recent ones

[unproduciblesmackdown]

on that theme: i specifically had the thought that i didn’t suppose there’d be any video of george salazar as krampus, And Yet. believe

[doitforbangchan]

Honeyy, requests still open? Can i ask for jealous reader believe a fake rumor about hyunjin romantically going out with another idol who is about to work with, so reader becames the last romantic and appears on his door late at night, to fight for his love since he's her man who isn't her man, but still is her man ❤ (pls, let the girl win his heart and the D too 🤧)

Requests are indeed open bestie!!

I hope you like this and it's what you were looking for!!

Never want to wake up - Hyunjin

Pairing : Hyunjin x reader (afab!)

Warnings: Fem! reader, Smut, unprotected sex, cursing, angst, pet names, slut used negatively, friends to lovers. Not proof read :)

WC: 2.4k

MDNI 18+

Your body was frozen, the news headline staring right back at you from your phone. 

‘STRAYKIDS’ HYUNJIN RUMORED TO BE DATING ITZY'S YEJI’

This can’t really be true, can it? Hyunjin was your best friend, and had been for years before he was ever an idol. Surely he would have told you about this? 

Then again, he has been reeaaallllyy busy lately. Too busy to even answer your calls. That would certainly explain why he’s suddenly dropped off the face of the earth from you. 

It all made sense now. Still re-reading the article you could not stop the tears that fell from your eyes. Truth is, you’ve been in love with him for years. He is the only guy you’ve ever really loved. None of the other guys could even hold a candle to him. That's also the reason none of those relationships ever worked out, they weren’t him. They never treated you as well, never were there for you when you cried, never took care of you like he had. 

It’s not like you could really blame Hyunjin for going for a girl like Yeji. She was incredibly gorgeous. And you were…. Just you. As you always had been 

“Fuck this.” You hissed clutching your phone, closing the article. You couldn’t just sit here in your pity, missing him like you had been for weeks. Time to take your mind off it. Maybe by being under someone else. 

Your back met the wall of the grimy club, the guy in front of you attacking your neck with sloppy kisses, his hands roaming your ass. He was cute enough. Not Hyunjin cute but really no man will ever be. It’s that thought that keeps you hesitant to reciprocate, even though it was you who flirted with him first and initiated this interaction. The man, San, had his hands wandering under the hem of your short dress, clutching your rear and forcing himself into you. 

This was quickly becoming too much; the hands on you, his mouth on your body, the smell of this guy. He wasn’t Hyunjin. 

You put your hands on his chest, trying to lightly push him away from you.

“San, stop” You mumbled, now becoming more forceful when he doesn't move from you.

“Hmm?” His mouth was still on your neck. 

“I-I’m sorry but I..I can’t do this.” You manage to get out. He pulls back from you to peer over you, disgust now filling his eyes. 

He scoffs, “Oh I see what your little game is. You’re a fucking tease. Acting like a slut then running away at the last second. Well not with me.” He turns and walks back to the bar not sparing you another glance. 

Feeling your shoulders drop at his words to you, the reality of what you had done was setting in. 

‘What the fuck is wrong with me? When did I become this person?’ The answer was clear. 

Hyunjin was what was wrong. 

Your mind was running a million miles an hour, and before you could stop yourself you collected yourself and ran out the exit. You had to see him. Had to speak with him. 

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

Hyunjin woke with a start, the pounding at his front door seeming to never end. He blearily looked at the time on his alarm clock. Who is trying to come over at 1 am? 

Heaving himself out of bed and to the front door, he was ready to chew out whoever was disturbing his sleep, until he opened the door and saw you standing there. In the skimpiest dress he had ever seen you wear, makeup messed up and arms wrapped around your body. 

“Y/n?” He asked, confused.

“Uh hey Hyun.” You could see he was clearly fast asleep when you disturbed him. “I really didn't mean to wake you. I’m sorry I’m just being stupid, I’ll go. Sorry again.” You turned to leave, humiliated now, when he reached for you by your arm to stop you. 

“No, what's wrong? Are you ok? Did you just come from the club?” He really had no idea what was going on. All he knew is that you looked like you needed help. He would always help you. 

Your shoulders were shaking, the nerves coming back at you full force now that you were here in front of him. You took a deep breath before beginning, “I just…. I was out at that shitty club downtown, and there was this guy…” 

Hyunjin held his breath waiting for your next words. Did he hurt you? Take advantage of you? Hyunjin would kill anyone who would do that to you. 

“A-and the thing is.. He wasn’t you, Hyunjin. I tried so hard to forget about you and Yeji but your face was all I could see when he was kissing me.”

He tried to interrupt you “Y/n I-” 

“No! Let me finish! It’s taking all I have to even get this far so please let me finish.” He nodded at you to continue. 

“I know I could never hold a candle to her. Yeji is beautiful. And talented. And everything a man could want. You guys really do make a handsome couple. But that doesn’t mean it’s not killing me inside, to see you together. The truth is. I’m in love with you Hyunjin. I have been for literal years. For me it’s always been you. I know you don’t feel the same I just had to tell yo-” 

Hyunjin cut you off, crashing his lips into yours and cradling the back of your head. Before you could even register what happened, he pulled back from you, his breath fanning over your lips. 

“I love you too, Y/n.” And he brought you in for another kiss. This time you reciprocated it. He could taste no alcohol in your mouth so knew you were sober.

This definitely wasn’t how you saw this interaction going. You thought for sure he’d tell you to leave, to never come near him or his girlfriend again. Oh shit, Yeji! 

Finding his chest with your hands you shoved him off slightly. “Hyunjin, you can't. What about Yeji? I’m not a homewrecker!” 

He laughed at your statement. “You’re right, in order for you to be a homewrecker there has to be one for you to wreck. There’s nothing going on between Yeji and I.” 

Huh? “But I saw the article, the picture of you both together. I thought…” 

He placed a sweet kiss on your forehead. “We’re working on a performance together. We are dance partners, that's all, sweet girl.” 

Dance partners. That’s all. You felt so stupid. You brought your hands to your face, trying to cover your humility. He grabbed your hands, prying them from you, “Hey look at me. It’s okay I promise. I know I’ve kinda been unreachable lately. I have so much to prepare for, I really haven't had any time on my phone. I should have reached out though to at least let you know what was going on. I am so sorry for keeping you in the dark. I never meant to do that to you.” He held your face with both of his hands, looking into your eyes. 

“You have no idea how much I’m in love with you.” That was all you needed. Launching yourself at him, mouths colliding. The kiss was everything you ever wanted. You could practically feel his love in that kiss. 

“Come on,” He mumbled to you, “let's get inside before my neighbors see what I’m about to do to you.” He hauled you into his home, mouth hands never leaving you. 

You felt a tingle at his words, and let out a little moan. The noise certainly didn't go unnoticed by Hyunjin, “Unless you want them to see you a mess for me? I always knew you were dirty.” He teased you.

Shaking your head no, “Uh uh. Want you to take me to your bed.” 

He closed the door behind you and led you into his room. 

“There's my little romantic. You really are perfect for me.” You melted at his words. 

Hyunjin flicked on the low lights in his bedroom, there was no way he would let your first time together be in the dark. He wanted to see all of you. 

He pressed your mouths together again, standing at the end of his bed. He let his hands fall to your waist, then to your exposed thighs, rubbing small comforting circles. 

“If you don’t want this, you have to tell me now. I don’t think I could let you go once I have you.” He whispered, giving you breathing room. 

You circled your arms around his shoulders, mouth finding his ear. “I want this more than you know. Want you so bad, Jinnie.” 

He groaned at your words, moving to slowly remove the dress from your body. He wanted to savor every moment. 

You let him pull the garment over your head and throw it to the side. You saw the exact moment he realized you weren't wearing a bra, this particular dress not needing one. His eyes widened, giving you a cheeky smirk as he pushed you onto his bed back first. He crawled over you slowly, mouth trailing kisses up your body until his mouth rejoined yours. Hyunjin let his hands find the soft skin of your breasts, fingers circling and pulling at your nipples, causing your hips to buck and grind on his growing erection. 

“Jinnie” He seriously could listen to your whines all day, “ Please Jinnie. Need you.” 

You reached your hands down to the waistband of his pj pants, sticking one inside the garment to grasp him. He let out a gasp at the contact, giving you a slight grind into your hand. His dick was so soft. 

One of his own hands traveled down your body, finding your panties and tugging them off your body, letting his fingers find your clit. When he made contact with you you arched further into him, whimpers falling freely. 

He cooed at you, “So wet sweet girl. Who made you this wet, huh?” Continuing to give you light fluttering touches, sweeping his fingers up and down your pussy. 

“You. You Jinnie always you.” Your words made his eyes roll back into this head. Your hand stroked over him, the movement from your grasp remaining consistent. You felt one of his long fingers run over your opening, before he inserted it into you, drawing a long moan form your mouth. 

“Fuck, so tight around my finger, Baby. I wonder what you’ll feel like around my cock.” He gave you shallow thrusts with his pointer finger, adding his middle finger to join the one that was stuffed in you. Your hips were bucking, the grip on his dick tightened and he hissed. “Easy sweet girl, you gotta be gentle with it.” 

“M’ sorry Jinnie. Just need you so bad. Need you to fuck me.” You looked up at him with glassy doe eyes. Fuck me eyes. 

“Ok baby. Ok.” He removed his fingers from your hole, and brought the fingers up to his mouth giving them a lick. Your taste alone could have had him busting in his pants. “But I wont fuck you. Not tonight. Tonight I am going to make love to you.” 

You wanted to cry at his words. You removed your hand from his member, and helped him push the fabric down his thighs revealing his cock in all its glory. And it was glorious indeed. Long and pale, head red and leaking ready to take you. He reached over to his bedside table to pull out a condom but you stopped him. “I have an IUD and I'm clean. Just wanna feel you raw.” 

Fuck you were perfect. 

Hyunjin positioned himself above your entrance, giving himself a light squeeze before he lowered his tip into you, breaching your walls. 

The sound you let out was straight pornographic. Never in your entire life had you ever been filled so deliciously. Hyunhin was feeling the same way, your body taking him completely in one thrust. 

“Oh fuck, baby. Your pussy was made to take me.” He let in a grunt of pleasure. 

You nodded dumbly, “Uh huh. Please move, Jinnie. Please pleaaassseee” Arms once again around his shoulders. 

He mouths at the skin on your neck and gives you another thrust. You were impatient though and brought your hips up to meet his, craving the friction. 

Sensing your impatience, he throws one of your legs over his hips and begins to drive into you. 

If he thought you were loud before he had no idea. He was sure he would have an angry note on his door by the morning. It was all worth it, though, to see your pleasure. To be the one to give you that pleasure. 

He could hear the sound of your wetness with each thrust, giving him another sign you were enjoying it. 

Your nails were running down his back, leaving red marks in their wake but neither of you cared. The feeling of him was too good. You knew you weren't going to last long. You had wanted this for literal years. 

“Jin. I'm gonna cum.” You warned him. His fingers returned to your clit and rubbed tight, quick circles over it, trying to help you get there. 

“Cum for me, my love.” That sent you over the edge, a sob leaving your mouth at his words. He held you close to him as your body shook with your orgasm, whispering about how much he loved you and how lucky he was that you were his now. His thrusts didn't slow even as he himself reached his high, filling you to the brim with his sticky essence. His moans of pleasure almost made you cum again, it was the sweetest sound you had ever heard. 

Only when he heard your soft whimpers of overstimulation did he stop, giving you a sloppy kiss before pulling out. He watched his cum leak out of you, feeling another wave of ecstasy course through him at the sight. 

He curled you into him as he laid next to you, rubbing up and down your stomach sensually. 

“I really love you y/n. I’m so happy you feel the same way.” He dropped a kiss to your head. 

“I love you Hyun. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. This feels like a dream.” Your voice was raspy from your previous moaning. 

Hyunjin chuckled at your words. 

“If this is a dream then I never want to wake up.” 

[soundspeachytome]

challenge failed successfully - shohei ohtani au

a short drabble where shohei joins the no nut november challenge with the boys but Y/N had different ideas.

tw: mentions of sex, nudity, edging; filthy smut and a sprinkle sprinkle of fluff

word count: 2.1k

minors do not interact

additional author notes: happy monday everyone. hoping this helps us all survive another week of reality and shohei drought. you're welcome.

other notes: shohei is a horndog y'all but Y/N is a monster

=========================================

08:23 AM, Saturday morning

You were working on your little paint by the numbers project in the balcony when you noticed that the apartment suddenly became too quiet. Usually on a Saturday morning, it’d be booming with jazz or soul music that Shohei would be heard whistling or humming along. There’d be the clink and clank of cutlery and their cheap china in the kitchen with Shohei making his signature omurice with bacon and pancakes. Today, however, the apartment is oddly silent, it was as if someone had pressed mute on all of the possible sounds that existed in the apartment. 

You slipped back inside to check and lo and behold, you saw Shohei sprawled on the couch with his headphones, too focused on whatever got his attention on his ipad. He didn’t even notice you approaching. He had a serious look on his face that spelled concentration so you thought it might just be something about work again but peering into the screen of his ipad, it was definitely not about weekend work.

“What’s gotten you all worked up on a Saturday morning, babe?” he looked up, finally noticing you. He removes his headphones and gives you a toothy grin.

“The boys and I are chatting about the No Nut November challenge!” he said.

“The what?” you said incredulously. 

“No Nut November challenge, babe. For the entire month, we are going to avoid orgasm. Whoever does the longest wins the bet.” he said, still smiling, like it was the most amazing game he’s ever heard in his life.

“So like… no sex for a month?”

“Yes.”

“Ejaculation, too?”

“That, too.”

“Not even oral?”

“No, babe. It says “any kind of orgasm, so no. I’ll miss your pretty mouth, though.” he pinched your chin playfully.

“Huh. Are you sure about that? You have a higher sex drive than me, though.” you were hesitant about this. Not because you will miss a month’s worth of sexual intimacy with Shohei, but you’re more concerned if he’ll make it through without losing his mind. He is a beast in the bedroom, always looking for reasons to get you naked under the covers any chance he gets. 

“Of course, I can. What, like it’s hard?” He challenged me. You snorted loudly at the Legally Blonde reference.

 “Come on, babe. Anyone who wins the bet will be given free tickets to the SuperBowl!” I wrote a mental note to never question Shohei’s competitiveness, especially if football is at stake. 

“Fine. It’s not like it’d have a difference on me, though. When does the challenge start?” you raise your hands and do air quotes to put emphasis on the word. 

“Today, of course! It’s already November.” he beamed. You’re still looking at him like he was crazy. You have lost him to America. To weird internet challenges. You need to get him back before it’s too late. 

Sighing in defeat, you bend forward and kiss him square on the lips. “Whatever you say, babe. I’m going to continue my painting outside, ‘kay?” 

You intentionally lingered on the kiss, making sure he noticed. He returned the kiss almost too passionately. When he started to get deeper into the kiss, you pulled back, leaving him slightly disoriented.

Thankfully, for you, taking your boyfriend away this self-proclaimed sexual abstinence is going to be easy. You just know how to play this game. 

03:17 PM, Saturday afternoon

“Babe, can you please stop sending me articles about ejaculation!” Shohei shouted from the living room. You have now transferred back to the bedroom after the midday sunshine crawled into the balcony, temperature too hot to continue painting. 

You have started sending Shohei links about the health risks of not masturbating. One of them being associated with prostate cancer. 

“Some studies suggest that moderate ejaculation (2–4 times per week) is associated with a lower prostate cancer risk. Sexual activity everyday or every other day might increase fertility if you're attempting to conceive.” you type in a subtext along with the main article.

“Additionally, ejaculation relaxes your body, making you have a quality sleep. Quality sleep prevents tension and makes your body healthy and strong to face the next day.”

“You know I’m not reading all these right.” he texted back.

“Fine, I’ll stop. Just don’t come looking for me when you start getting horny…[wink face emoji]” you giggled, you’re starting to enjoy teasing him.

07:07 PM, Saturday evening

Shohei went out to buy ice cream for movie night while you were finishing up in the bath when an idea hit you.

You grabbed your phone from the nightstand and faced the bathroom mirror. You dropped the towel wrapping your body and only had your long locks cover a bit of your breasts. You took a decent amount of mirror selfies naked. One photo had your free hand hovering over your bare pussy in the most seductive way possible. You liked this photo and sent the rest of the good ones to Shohei’s number with a follow-up message, “Can’t wait for November to finish, babe <3”. 

He always brings his phone around in case of emergencies so you’re one-hundred percent sure he would read this message.

You put your phone down and waited.

You were already fully clothed and drying your hair in front of the vanity mirror when Shohei burst into the room, face pale and almost horrified.

“That’s not fair!” he said. “I opened the message while I was lining up to pay! Stop doing that!”

“Why?” You said, feigning ignorance. “It’s not like I agreed to stop sending my boyfriend signals when I’m horny right?”

If his face was already pale, any ounce of color left has disappeared in a comical sort of way. 

“You know what… Never mind, Y/N. Come on out, it’s time to pick the movie.” He hurried out of the room before you could build up some horny remark. You wanted to see how long Shohei could do this so-called challenge before he gave up. It’s funny to see him struggling over something you’ve done on any normal day.

Before you left the room, you decided to change your clothes into a short night dress. It was showing a bit of your cleavage and the skirt rides up to your mid-thigh when you sit down. Perfect, you thought. 

You sat down beside Shohei on the sofa as he was browsing the movie selections on Netflix. “What do you wanna watch tonight? There’s new episodes of Attack on Titan… Oh look, there’s a new murder documentary that was added—” his eyes immediately went straight to your nightwear. 

“What? Go on, I’m listening.” you gave him an innocent look and scooted closer to him. 

“Nothing, uh, I think we can watch Jujutsu Kaisen: 0 instead. We haven’t seen this yet, right?” he looked away and pressed play without waiting for you. 

Once the movie started, you got engrossed with the story and forgot about your little plan. Shohei, too, as both of you are anime fans, there was only the occasional discussion about the story and action scenes. You got comfortable and put your head on his chest; his hand rested on your thighs. As expected, the nightgown skirted up while you’re sitting down, revealing much of your thighs.. He was mindlessly caressing your inner thigh, making you shiver.

Shohei stops and notices this. He pretended to cough and stood up.

“Water break.” He muttered. 

You finished the movie without any more of your tricks and decided you’d stop playing around Shohei now that you saw how much he wanted to play the game. When the ending credits rolled, you yawned and bid Shohei good night.

“Are you joining soon?” you pouted, hugging him from the back, your chin resting on his bicep. He was storing the dishes on the dry rack. 

“Yeah, let me just clear up here. You go ahead.” 

“Okay, good night.” you smiled sleepily and retreated back to the bedroom where you dozed off almost immediately.

03:27 AM, Sunday morning

You woke up to the sensation of something hard rubbing your back. 

It was dark and the only light you can see is the moonlight crossing over your bedroom curtains. It took you a while to rise from your deep slumber to realize what was happening: you were engulfed in Shohei’s embrace, his face buried under your hair and neck and his hands placed on your stomach and hips. In your ear, you could hear Shohei whimpering. Begging. Please, please, just one time. His hot breath against your skin. All while his hips were rubbing sloppily against your ass. 

You reached for your phone and saw the time.

“Sho, it’s the devil’s hour.” you complained groggily, trying to get out his grasp.

He continued to press his hips to yours back and forth, with audible grunts and groans reverberating through your entire body. His dick was pressing to your bum and you couldn’t help but return a sigh. Your whole body was on fire.

“Sho,” you turned around with more force now, shaking him awake. 

He snapped his eyes open and realized what was happening. 

“You were dry humping me, babe.” you said, almost irritably, as if the act was something illegal, but in respect to his current “bet” you had to stop him. 

He was rubbing his eyes and upon realization, groaned inwardly. “I’m so sorry, babe. Must be having a wet dream.”

“It’s not like I was complaining, though…” you said.. You touched his chest and slowly dragged your hand towards his midsection. You reached his abs and drew circles with your fingers. 

“if you really, really, want to…you can… But I don’t want to ruin your bet.” You backpedaled. He’s facing you now, almost about to bite the bait you’re dangling in front of him.

He stared at you and you bit your lower lip, waiting. He was thinking long and hard as if it was life and death. 

“Okay.” he said.

“Okay?”

“I’m no longer playing this silly game.” he pushed you to your back, him on top. He buried your neck with wet kisses and nibbles on your exposed breasts. In response, you hump needily towards him, pulling his boxers down to grab his stiff dick. You rubbed him fiercely against your hand while he continued to suck on your nipples. Lost in each other’s whimpers of pleasure and skin against skin sweat, he slides down your thong and starts to kiss your clit.

You let out a loud moan and pushed his head back.

“Don’t go slow on me now just because you felt bad for waking me up for sex. You already got me hot and needy, so just get it inside me now..” your voice pleading, desperate. 

“Please,” begging was the ultimate way to snap Shohei’s composure. He smiled apologetically but kicked his boxers off and slid into your wet entrance. All in.

“Fuck, Y/N. You’re so hot like this.” He paused, adjusting his size. You were so beautiful like this, naked, sprawled under him and begging like your life depended on it. “I’d fuck a dozen babies in you if you looked at me like this, babe.”

“Move.” you impatiently grabbed a handful of his ass and squeezed. He began snapping his hips against yours in quick, rough motions. You moaned loudly in pleasure, letting your neighbors know that Shohei Ohtani was fucking you hard and wild tonight.

“I need your mouth,” you reached for him and he licked the side of your mouth with his tongue. He licked and bit the spot on your neck, making sure it would leave a love mark the next day. That was Shohei’s favorite part during sex, marking you and making sure the rest of the world knew who you belong to.

Both of you whimpered and moaned and touched all over each other’s skin and muscle, hair and sweat; not caring for a thing in the world. Not the neighbors, not for the bite marks, especially not that goddamned bet.

07:45 AM, Sunday morning

You wake up for the second time this morning, the smell of eggs and bacon wafted in the air. On the vinyl player, a Chet Baker record was playing and Shohei was singing to the lyrics of “The More I See You”. In the distance, you can also hear the loud thumping and turning of your washing machine. 

“Good morning, beautiful.” he said, leaning by the doorframe. “Had a good sleep?” He was shirtless and wearing an apron. What a sight to behold. You could feel yourself salivating from just looking at him. 

You sat up with your messy hair sticking all over your head, yawning. “I had an amazing dream.” 

Shohei grinned widely. “Did the dream happen to include me?”

“Yes, but I couldn’t remember the dream…” you lied, pouting extra cutely. Shohei jumped on the bed, raising both your hands. You screamed and laughed as he got on top of you.

“Let me make sure you don’t forget, then.” He said before drowning you in a deep kiss. 

[engr4veq]

《 Therapy Sessions♡

DAY 2

《 Pairings: Lady Lesso x reader ft dovey

♡

Psychiatrist: Okay so today, I brought a budget hat with papers in it, and depending on what you pull out, we'll talk about it today.

- All three of you nod

Psychiatrist: Okay, Who's first? *smile*

You and Lesso: *looks at Dovey*

Dovey: What? *confused*

Psychiatrist: You dont mind pulling first, do you?

Dovey: Not at all! *puts hand in hat and pulls out paper* *opens paper* "Have you had any past trauma you'd like to share?"

Dovey: *deep breath* Well, there was this one time.. I took Lesso's trench coat.. I wore it to breakfast that morning and she had a smile on her face.. *shiver* The next day when I went to choose my dress.. THEY WERE DYED BLACK! ALL OF THEM.. *sniffle* *sob*

Lesso: *rolls eyes* Atleast it wasnt your shampoo, I was being considerate..

Dovey: Lesso! *starts long ass lecture*

You: Hey, is this bread? *points at bowl in middle of table*

Psychiatrist: Yes, and- uh-

You: mm? *mouth stuffed with bread*

Psychiatrist: Alright, whose next?

Lesso: I'll go-

Dovey: I AM NOT FINISHED! *sigh* *glares*

You: *swallows bread*

Lesso: Woah! Calm down princess.. *shiver*

Dovey: *groan* Do whatever you want.

Lesso: *puts hand in hat and pulls out paper* *reels open paper* "Any relationship problems that come to your mind that need adressing?" *burns paper*

Lesso: Well for starters.. *points at you* Everytime she comes into my room, she HAS to have an article of my clothing on. I dont understand why?

You: Well, what do you mean? Its bloody cold? *frown* I should be allowed to help myself..

Lesso: Your body is just a placeholder to crush them up. *scoff*

You: Well pardon me.. *stands up* *walks infront of Lesso* Anything that's yours is mine..

Lesso: Is it?

You: It is..

Lesso: It is unnecessary. You have your own clothes..

Psychiatrist: Alright.. May I have a say?

You and Lesso glare at the psychiatrist

Psychiatrist: first of all.. y/n why dont you allow your lover to access some of your things.. I deem it unfair if only you can access her things..

You: *looks at Lesso* I give myself to her.. what else does she want..?

Lesso: *blushes out of embarrassment*

You: What else does she need.. *sits down* *thinking deeply*

Psychiatrist: Oh dear, my comment must have been taken the wrong way..

You: What if-

Lesso: shut up..

You: *looks up*

Lesso: You are enough for me.. I dont need anything else from you, darling..

You: *evil smile* See.. she doesn't need anything else from me.. *laughs*

Lesso: *glares* Why you-

Dovey: BOTH OF YOU, quiet down.. *holds head*

You: I guess I'll pull now.. *puts hand in hat and pulls out paper* *opens paper* "Who could you be nicer to?"

You: eh.. it depends.. You mean the people I know..? *gets a new peice of paper crushes it*

Psychiatrist: Whoever you deem fit for the question.. *raises eyebrow*

You: I guess I could be nicer to Clarissa.. *flicks paper towards Lesso*

Lesso: *deadpanned* *opens mouth to say something* *paper lands in her mouth*

You: *smile* Even though shes basically my sister.. *slides hand ontop of hers*

Dovey: Awh, thats sweet!

*Lesso aggressively shaking in the background with a pissed off expression*

Psychiatrist: What about Lady Lesso..?

Lesso: *spits out paper* *glares* What about me?

You: *grabs Lesso's jaw* *tilts head* *kisses her cheek*

Psychiatrist, Lesso, Dovey: *blush*

You: What?

[grippingbeskar]

salt, ice and fire | frank castle

chapter sixteen - talk is cheap

frank castle x fem!reader

warnings: canon typical violence, blood, death, swearing, mention of fire and like burning and stuff, its a bit sad at the end

words count: 6.1k

a/n: this took me a while bc i’ve been writing out so many requests but hopefully you all like it! the pressure is mounting guys the next few chapters shit is going down. hold onto ur hats. also i am so ready to write the next few chapters of this because its all coming together fajfejrnierifaeurngiar. eep.

[series masterlist] [previous chapter]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Somehow you hear Frank’s phone buzzing somewhere in the room, the vibrating ring echoing on the hardwood floor. You were practically curled up in a ball, back pressed against Frank’s chest while he had his arm wrapped over you. Even while he was asleep you could tell how strong he was, arm still not fully relaxed, his hand almost holding onto you as if you would drift away in any moment. It was exactly the opposite of what you would do— of what you want to do.

I want to stay. Of course you did. Even if it wasn’t like this, the rise and fall of his finally relaxed breathing pressing you even closer - he was the only person who wasn’t afraid of you, who didn’t look at you like you were what you are. He understood— on some level or another. He wouldn’t force your hand, wouldn’t keep you anywhere you didn’t want to be. So, that became exactly the place you wanted most. 

The fact that he was also, well, him— you still felt like you were floating even now, long after you had passed out from last night. You couldn’t help the way you shivered a little just thinking about it. He was sweet when you needed and rough when you asked, every part of your body felt like it had been changed permanently. You rolled over, his arm staying tight around you, and your face was nearly pressed to his as you shook him lightly.

“Frank.” You tried to whisper, the phones ringing stopping for a short second, and then picking up again. Clearly, whoever it was needed him now, and being around him long, there’s only one person who calls him period, let alone this early. He still doesn’t budge. “Frank.”

“Shh.” He groans and nearly smothers you as both his arms link around your frame, every sense surrounded by him. “Sleep.”

“Your phone.” He takes in a deep breath, and your face buries into the new space, finding his collarbone. You press your mouth to his skin, getting distracted when he almost moans at the touch.

“S’ Madani. She’ll call back.” He moves his head higher, and your mouth trails up, kissing his neck, just under his jawline. One of his hands finds the back of your neck, threading slowly up through your hair.

“She already has.” He still holds you where you are, teeth and tongue working to give him matching bruises where you are sure you are covered in them. “Might be important. The article. From Karen.”

“Give me one minute, baby. One more minute of you.” Smiling, you make your move and push him onto his back, leg swinging over his torso. Neither of you bothered to put actual clothes on last night— you in one of Franks shirts and him in nothing at all. Both of you sigh a little when you drop your weight on top of him, and you pin his arms up near his head, leaning down to kiss him.

He gives up control easily, letting you take whatever you want from him. You stay slow, sleep still clouding half your brain. He moves a little underneath you and you let him, legs spreading wider. He groans into your mouth and you roll your hips, desperately aware of how he reacts to the small movement. You swear you could still taste yourself on his tongue, and he leans forward as you begin to shuffle down. Maybe more than just a minute…

The phone buzzes again, somehow louder now, the vibrations moving it closer to where you and Frank have claimed a corner of the bed.

“Pass it to me.” He whispers, tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth. Your eyes nearly roll back at the look he gives you, but you bend down and grab the phone, reluctantly handing it to him despite knowing he needs to answer it. “Better be good, Madani.”

“Did you get the paper this morning?” You can hear the agent say through the phone, and Franks free hand falls to your hip, pulling at the hem of the shirt you were wearing.

“I got a good idea what it says.”

“I should of expected you to blow this thing into extreme proportions. It’s seven thirty and I already have four dead Gnucci foot soldiers spread out across 5th Avenue.” Your eyes widen a little at that. Sure, it was part of the plan— turn the two gangs against each other and lighten the load for you and Frank to inevitably tear to pieces. You were just surprised it had happened so soon.

“Karmas a bitch, ain’t it?” His thumb runs circles along your hipbone, goosebumps rising under his touch. You can see him smile when he notices. “I’m a busy man, so unless you got something for me…”

“I know where the brother is.” Franks hand freezes on your hip and your body goes tight. “The men who were killed— one of them had a comm leading through a secure network. I got to it, gave it to someone I trust back at base. There’s a hold out near…” The rest of the conversation fades off, you only getting parts that from where you are, it would take about seven hours to get to where your brother is.

Frank sits up, and it hits you all at once, almost like a punch to the gut. Your brother— the one you had been searching for, fighting for your entire life. The one you had killed for. He was only seven hours away.

“And Frank—“ Madani says as you start to focus back into the conversation. “—there’s going to be a time in this where I have to start connecting dots.” Frank looks at you, a strange emotion on his face somewhere between concern and…

“Just say it, Madani.”

“I’ve already got men breathing down my neck asking about my source for the Silo incident, and now with this article… shits hitting the fan, and all eyes are on me. When her brother is out, I need to bring her in.” His face twitches, nose scrunches almost when she says it. You knew it was inevitable. You were marked as immediate disposal on your file. Back then, you didn’t really give a shit if you got out alive or not, as long as your brother was safe. Looking down at Frank, you think of one more thing you would want to protect.

“I already told you-“

“I know what you told me. I’m not putting her in a bunker, but I need a paper trail. Something I can use to clear all this shit up. And I need more information. You may want to be in and out with as many bodies as possible, but this network runs deeper than you can imagine. I need to think of the bigger picture.” Frank says something like ‘whatever’ and hangs up the phone, tossing it onto the floor.

“Seven hours away.” You say and he nods, his hand still frozen at your hip.

“I won’t let anything happen t’you.” You start to lift yourself off him, but something about the way he looks at you makes you pause. There’s only been a few times when you can’t place the emotion he’s looking at you with. You were pretty good at reading people, and you were practically versed in Frank, but with his wide eyes and furrowed eyebrows, you just paused. Then, lean down to kiss him lightly.

“Thank you.” You feel his free hand hold the back of your neck, pressing your forehead to his. His eyes close, and yours stay open, watching the displaced emotion melt away. He nods again, and lets you go, throwing the covers off himself and finally getting out of bed.

Both of you waste no time, getting dressed with new clothes and restocking with food as best you can with what Karen still has around. You eat whatever you can find, chewing through fruit and the rest of Karen’s honey oats, Frank eating whatever you don’t. After you had practically ransacked the place, Frank wrote a quick note and left the key on the counter, grabbing your bags and heading to the door.

Your hand goes to the door knob, and both of you freeze.

You don’t have to open it to know who’s on the other side. You know those footsteps, the weight of them, how he leans slightly to the left because he got shot when he was 18 and it never really healed right. You know his breathing, laboured now he had made it up the steps to the apartment. You knew the sound of his voice, how he told the two other men with him not to knock the door down. Told them to wait, that he wanted to be the one to talk.

Frank’s artillery was swung over his shoulder, another bag in his hand, while yours was on your back. The cool metal of the barrel of the gun Frank forced you to carry around was a glaring reminder of where you were, and how the man on the other side of the door was far more apt at using it. You also weighed your options. You could kill him now— you knew where your brother was. You just had to make it there before his men could send the order. Not that they would be able to if you could kill them, too—

“Good morning, sunshine.” His voice was rough, mocking as the nickname floated into your ears making you want to hurl. Frank pressed closer, shoving you away from the door a little. “I know you’re in there.”

The shock of him really being here was starting to set in. Bobby Gnucci never got his hands dirty. Never put himself in the firing line. When you’re that rich, you can buy people to stand in front of you. Why the hell was he here, then? And how the hell did he find you?

“Nice place here. I’m sure Ms. Page would be upset if we shot through her lovely oak door. Why don’t you come out and we can talk like adults.” The mention of Karen’s name made you both pull out your weapons. “That is what you are, yes? An adult? You so often reminded me that is what you are now.”

You go to open your mouth to reply, but Frank shakes his head and nods towards the window. The fire escape would lead you right down to the car. Was he suggesting you leave? Now, when Bobby was right there?

“You know, it’s a shame, really. About The Colonel. As pathetic as he was, the man sure had a knack for politics. But a gun shot to the head? That’s not how I raised you, is it sunshine?”

Frank starts to pull you back, further inside the apartment. You try to ask why - why the hell wouldn’t you take them on, take them here? He just shakes his head, jaw clenched. You knew if there was a reason Frank wasn’t killing anyone, it was probably a good one.

“And I did. Raise you. You were so young, when we first met. I guess I was, too. Clearly we’ve both changed. Ms. Page didn’t recognise my voice when I called to meet her, and doesn’t have the slightest clue she’s sitting in a cafe with my best hit man right now.” Fuck. That’s why Frank wasn’t shooting. “Change is for the best sometimes. Even if it comes at a cost.”

“What do we do?” You mouth at Frank. His eyes are trained on you. Before he answers, Bobby speaks again.

“If you don’t open the door, I’ll have my men shoot Ms. Page where she sits. One word from me and they’d tear your brother apart, too.” You squeeze your eyes shut so you don’t see Franks face when you speak.

“What do you want?” You sound cold— a tone of voice you haven’t used in months.

“Ahh. There you are.” He sighs through the door, and you take a step closer. Franks eyes widen, standing in front of you. “What I want. I think I have made that fairly clear, no? You have made things decidedly harder for me with this article, you see. My men question my loyalty, question if I am still in my right mind, chasing a ghost such as yourself.”

You take another step and Franks forearm stops you, pushing you away from the door. You shove him back, instead pushing him towards the window. If he could make it out undetected—

“I want you. I want you by my side.”

“You want me as your weapon.”

“Does one not hold their weapon at their side? Care for it? Tend to it, keep it safe? You would not know, to be fair. I’ve given you no reason to ever need one.” Your grip around the gun tightens. You mouth ‘go’ to Frank, but he just stands there. You do it again, and pull the gun out, training it on the door. Frank finally manages to move, seeing you with the weapon. If he doesn’t get a head start, he won’t make it to the building. “Open the door, and I’ll take you to your brother, and we can go back to how it was.”

“When you locked me up?” Frank had moved, but only towards you, hands coming lightly under your chin. You tell him to go again, and you think he might kiss you. His hand drops and wraps over yours, the one holding the gun. He trains it on the door and angles you so that you are as close the the open window as possible, laying out your exit.

“As soon as that door opens, leave. Come to me. Get him to open the door, and come to me.” He whispers in your ear, lips brushing against the sensitive skin.

“You know why I did that. You disobeyed me.” Bobby’s voice breaks you away from Frank. He needs to open the door. An idea starts to spark.

“I fucked someone else. That’s why you did it.” Frank looks at you one last time before he turns to the window, and he almost looks like he’s smirking.

“That is not why.” Bobby sounds through the door, shakier than before.

“The Colonel told me. That you think I’m some kind of gift to you, from your father-“

“Don’t talk about my father!” He shouts, and Frank has already disappeared, hopefully dropping down the fire escape and in the car already. “He is dead.”

“Clearly. If he were alive, you wouldn’t have lost four men this morning.”

“Open the door.”

“If he were alive, he would have killed me the moment I stepped out of line. But you couldn’t, could you?”

“You are on thin ice. Open this door, now.” He says, angrier. Good. You want him angry. Angry enough that he will burst inside. Or at least, the guards will. Them, you can kill without blinking.

“You couldn’t kill me. That’s why you locked me up in there. You really are obsessed.” You bite out, mocking thick in your voice. All the anger of all those years you spent with him bubbles to the surface. You only wish you could see his face. “It wasn’t that you needed me. It’s that you wanted me. You just didn’t have the balls to do anything about it.”

“I will break this door down-“

“You had all those years to watch me, train me like some prized bull, and build the perfect weapon. Your father knew you couldn’t do it alone, that’s why he started it without you. He died thinking you would at least have the brains to finish it for him, but you just fucked it up again, didn’t you?”

“Shut the fuck up! I will kill him you—“ He was yelling now, screaming. You imagine his face bright red, an ugly vein popping out of his forehead, more prominent now he was older.

“You could only think with your dick! You locked me up because you were jealous and ruined your fathers legacy, and now you need me to fix it for you!” The door burst in and you pulled the trigger, the body of the first guard hitting the floor before the frame of the oak wood did.

The second guard faltered, not expecting you to be armed, and all that training with Frank flooded back to you. As soon as she stutters you fire again, a bullet flying through his throat and ricocheting onto the drywall behind.

Your gun is trained on the door, and you were backing up, feeling the breeze from the open window whip at the back of your legs. It’s close, and you crouch, starting to climb out of it when you see him.

Bobby Gnucci steps into the room, face still read from screaming at you, though now he is calmer, void of emotion. He almost smiles when he sees you, teeth yellowing from years of smoking those disgusting cigars he always smelt of.

“You look better.” His voice was sickly sweet, and the way his eyes roam your body feels nothing like the way it does when Frank does it. “Good.”

“I’m going to get my brother back.” He raises his eyebrows, keeping his composure. The way he stands, confidence oozing out of his jet black suit, you are reminded why his family is so feared. He isn’t tall, and he’s bigger than when you last saw him, but he looks like his father. All dark, oily hair and crumpled features.

“He isn’t yours to take. If your own father had been smarter, perhaps-“

“I’m going to get him back. Then I will come for you.” You step out of the window, gun still trained on him. You had to hope Frank had gotten to Karen by now, because it was your only chance.

“Think about who you are threatening.” He warns, taking a step towards you.

“It’s all I’ve thought about. For three fucking years. I will come for you, and I will burn everything you built to the ground.” Your word choice is purposeful. You want him to know. You want him to know that he will feel what you felt, what he did to you will come for him. Eventually.

You drop from view, throwing yourself off the fire escape and hit the ground running. The wind whistles past yo has you run the distance you drove yesterday to the main building of the Bulletin. If Frank hadn’t made it yet, it would be down to you. Faces pass in a blur and a few cars honk as you cross streets recklessly, and when the building begins to form in sight, you don’t see and blue and red flashing lights, which you take as a good sign.

Then, Frank crashes through the front window of the main lobby, his hands around the throat of a giant looking man.

You run to him, only stopping when you hear Karen inside, ushering someone out of the emergency exit. Frank flips the guy over and pounds his fist into his face, the sound of bone cracking letting you know he has it covered.

“Karen!” You shout and she looks up, relief washing over her face when she sees you. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine! We need to go— You. You need to go. The police are on their way. You and Frank—“

“Don’t worry about us. I need to get you out of here. Do you have somewhere you can—“ Another shatter of window sends glass flying into the air, and you cover Karen as best you can. She’s looking at something behind you, and when you focus, you can feel it. Someone, not something.

“Matt?” Karen shouted, one arm covering her forehead where a little blood seeped out from a cut. The man moved past you, taking her face in his hands.

“Are you okay?”

“Jesus! I’m fine! What are you doing here?!” She shouts at him, but you know that kind of shout. She’s not really mad, and you remember a conversation about her and someone called Murdock, and out together the pieces.

“I heard you! You need to-“ He pulls her closer, hand searching her face. “You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine.” She whispers, the lobby now completely empty. The lack of sound also makes you look back, seeing Frank climbing off the mangled body underneath him. Karen looks at you, keeping her hands linked with the man’s. “You both need to get out of here.”

“Do you have somewhere you can go? Bobby, he knows your place.” She nods, eyes flicking to the man. Matt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to get- this isn’t what I wanted. I’ll make sure you’re safe, I swear-“

“It’s not your fault. I would of done it anyways. Journalism has its risks. It’s not the first time something like this has happened anyways.” You smile at her, slightly confused as to how anything like this could of happened to her before, but Matt also smiles and it seems like there’s a lot you don’t know about her.

“Get out of here. Please.” You say and she looks past you, to Frank, who was digging through the pockets of the man he’d just killed.

“Thank you. Both of you.” She says, and then she does something that both makes you want to cry and laugh. She hugs you. Tightly, both arms wrapped around you. You don’t think a woman has hugged you since your mother.

When she pulls away you must look confused, or scared because she looks to the floor, smiling.

“Look after him. He needs you.” She says, and Matt moves his head towards you, nodding, before taking her hand and leading her out of the broken lobby.

You turn to Frank, who finally stands and staggers over to you, holding his side. You can hear sirens ringing in the distance, and you know you don’t have long before they reach you here.

“You okay?” He’s swaying a little, and his entire arm is gushing with blood. The hand holding his sight is bright red, too. “Fuck. Where’s the car?”

“S’ that way.” He slurs, and arm swinging over your shoulder.

“What happened?”

“Big guys. Had a lotta…” He sucks in a sharp breath when you step out of the lobby, turning him down the street. “You get out okay?”

“Had my lucky charm with me.” You tap the gun in the waistband of your pants, and even though he’s probably in a lot of pain, he smiles down at you.

“That’s my girl.” More of his weight drops into your shoulder, and your steps start to slow as you see the car approaching. Frank fumbles with the keys, and eventually drops them on the ground. You lean him up against the car as he groans, picking them up. “S’worried.”

“You know I can handle myself better than you can.” He’s lost more blood than he probably realises, and looks pale. You have no idea how many men were inside the lobby before you got there, only catching the end of it. You take the bags off his shoulder and shove them in the car, and when you turn back to him, he’s sliding off the hood and nearly hitting the pavement.

“Frank! Jesus— what the hell did you do to yourself?” He groans when you pull him back up, his arms nearly slipping from your grasp, wet with blood.

“S’okay, baby. Just gotta get…” His head practically rolls to the side, face screwing up in pain when he tries to swing his legs in. “Ah—fuck.”

“What do I do? Frank, I can’t fix this. I don’t know where to—“ There’s so much blood, when you close yourself into the drivers side of the car you can smell it— a mix of metallic sharpness and salt. There’s so much of it, and you half consider driving him to a hospital. Or one of the ambulances that have probably pulled up to the lobby. You couldn’t fix yourself, let alone him. You couldn’t even sew a cut on your leg— “Frank. Please keep your eyes open.”

“Mmm.” His head hangs forward now, and his eyes flick to the side, observing as you slam on the accelerator and drive forward. “Where you goin’?”

“We need help. You. You need help.” He’s slurring his words, and if he passes out you’ll have to— yeah, you’d drive him straight to the hospital. Screw everything, you’d figure it out, but he couldn’t die here. Not in a car, coming out of a fight you pushed him into, one he never would of found if it weren’t for you—

“Right. Turn right.” You hit it hard, your arm coming across Franks chest to keep him from slamming into the door. “Exit on fifth.”

“You need a— I can’t help you like this, Frank. I can take you to a hosptial—“ He’s shaking his head, grunting no before you finish the thought. “—Curtis? Where is he? He can help.” You take the exit, not sure where you’re going but blindly trusting Frank, even though he’s a second away from losing an arm.

“Not here. Pull into the g—“ He groans as you swerve onto the left side of the road. “—It’s okay. We just need a little time…”

“Frank.”

“Garage. One with the green door.” You see it a block away, and pull into it, immediately getting out of the car and helping Frank out.

He’s limping even with you supporting him, and now you can see the bright red marks on his shoes, lines on the pavement carved by the flow of blood from somewhere else under his clothes. He ushers you to a side door that opens to some storage unit sized garage, full of bags and old furniture.

You lay him down on an old couch, and when he huffs finally landing, you stand up and get a good look at him, and nearly puke.

You’ve seen blood before. This is tame— compared to what you’ve seen, what you’ve done before. Blood doesn’t make you sick, but his blood does. And there’s so much of it. His head is soaked, eyes both black, shirt wet— not damp, sopping wet with thick, red liquid. You haven’t even taken his shirt off and you know it’s bad. Bad and you can’t fix it, you couldn’t even fix yourself.

“Hey. Blue bag— trauma kit in there.” Franks hand weakly taps at your leg, and you realise you’d frozen above him. You move, hands shaking as you tear open the blue bag, gauzes and equipment you’ve never seen falling out in front of you. You look back to him, eyes wide. “It’s gonna be fine. Now grab…”

“I can’t do this. We need to take you to a hospital.” He’s sliding his shirt up and there’s so much of his blood that shouldn’t be here, not like this—

“Baby, you can do this. I need you to do this for me, okay? I know you’re scared, but I trust you.” His voice is cracking, but he’s looking at you with urgency and— trust, maybe. Maybe that’s it. The look you’ve been trying to pin, where his eyes go a little soft and he leans closer to you. Whatever it is, it’s enough, and you look back down to the equipment.

“Okay. Okay. Just… tell me. Which ones do I…” He pulls his shirt up and you lean on your knees, seeing what you know to be a gun wound. “Oh, fuck.”

“Tweezers.” He says, and twists to the side. The wound is right in the edge, but it looks like the bullet might still be in there. You can see it, just under the surface of his scarred skin. “You gotta get it out.”

“Okay.” Your voice was cracking but you did what he asked. Grabbing the tweezers, your slightly improved confidence has you moving into position. You remember Frank holding you when he did this to you, how he told you how good you were doing. How he called you sweetheart. You take a breath and put your hands on his side.

“You might need to p-“ He cries out when you shift the wound slightly, and you take your hands off him. “It’s okay. Just keep going. You’ll have to dig around. Get it out.”

“Shit. Shit. Okay, I’m sorry.” You look at Frank, who tries his best to look confident in you, but then groans as you dig the metal into his side and balls his fists into the couch. “I can feel it.”

“Mm.” He grunts out, jaw tight and breathing fast through his nose. If he keeps going like that, he’ll pass out and you need him awake. Frank kept you awake when he did it by talking. You can do that. You can do this.

“You’re doing good, Frank. I’ve almost got it.” He cries out again as you dig in, clamping the bullet around the metal. “You’re a really good teacher.”

“Good to—fuck. Good to know.” His eyes are squeezed shut, but momentary relief floods his face when the bullet leaves the wound. “Needle and the string in the green packet.”

“Alright. Just two or three, right?” He nods once, and you remember how many when he removed them from your skin. As you bring the supplies back to him, you bring gauze as well, gently cleaning the area as best you can. When he did it, he had water, and his skin is so caked with blood you can’t find the edge, so you do your best. He hisses when you get close, and you use the other hand to rub small, soothing circles on his other side. “Sorry.”

“S’okay. Just push is through. Line i—it up straight and pull it together. Fuck.”

“One down.” You follow his instructions, applying one shoddy stitch to his wound.

“That’s it-“ He pauses, eyes fluttering closed. You call his name, shake him a little but all that does is make the wound bleed more.

“Frank.” You move up, yelling in his ear. Nothing. His heart was beating, but your hand was wet with his blood. “Frank!”

He wasn’t awake. He’d passed out. You remembered when you were shot, and how hard he tried to keep you awake. It must be bad, that he’s passed out. A concussion— you knew he couldn’t sleep with a concussion. You needed to wake him up. You tried to think— when he did this for you, even though you wanted to sleep so badly, you heard his voice. Talking. He called you sweetheart. 

Okay. You could do that— he always said how he could never get you to shut up. He’d talked you through the first one, you just had to do it over and over again. You had to talk him through it. You adjusted on your knees, replacing the soaked red gauze with a new one and exposed a little more of the wound.

“I can count on one hand how many times you’ve fallen asleep before I did.” You say to the small room. He can’t hear you, head lulled to the side, but you talk anyway. It was his voice that drew you to consciousness, a life ring in the weird fading fuzziness that blood loss tinged your body with. “It’s lazy, really. And do you remember, the first night we were in that really small hotel with the blinking lamp? And I told you that you should of gotten ice for your head? Bet you wished you listened to me.”

You were stabbing painfully at the wound, the slipperiness of his blood making it hard to get a hold on it. You tried to be gentle, but you needed to be safe more. Another few uneven ties eventually pulled his skin together, and you immediately covered the wound, wrapping it in gauze and sticking bandages over it. You grabbed more of the supplies out of the bag, ripping open packages that looked like what you had just used.

“If this is some kind of fucked up lesson like when you made me stay up for five hours with a gun on the door, I’m going to kick your ass.” You tried to tell yourself you were talking to him, but it was more a distraction for you, giving yourself something to focus on other than the gaping wound across his chest that you now had to try and pull back together. “I think I miss that time, though. I didn’t know how good I had it. New York feels so... full. I’ve lived in big cities my whole life, you know. Those shitty motels were always so empty. I liked the open space.”

A part of him flinched under you. Maybe it was just because you were hurting him, or a reflex, but either way it meant he wasn’t dead, and that was encouragement enough. Your hands continued to rectify the cut, now almost completely closed. Looking down his body, there was a lot of superficial wounds that you wouldn't be able to do much with, but there was a gash in his leg that was dripping blood onto the floor, and you grabbed a shirt from one of the bags in the room and tied it over until you could get to it. 

“I just liked being outside, I think. Like that place in the woods, where you pulled all those guns out of the floor. If it wasn’t so small, I would have never left. I could breathe out there— I never felt like I could get a real breath in underground. You know, when they kept me down there.” Maybe it was the adrenaline rushing through you, or the fact that this was the chance to talk to someone without having to worry how they would react. Frank wouldn’t even remember it. 

“My dad used to have a basement at our house. He did all his research down there, when he wasn’t stuck at the lab. Even there, I hated it. It was so cramped— he could never get enough of it, though. I used to stand at the top of the steps that led down there, playing a song on my phone or something, and he’d sing it with me. Then he’d walk up the steps and scoop me up, carry me out of there.” Everything feels like it’s hot— Frank’s skin under your hands. It felt like infection. You grabbed some of the saline and squeezed it over the wounds, then shuffled down and did the same to the one on his leg before starting to stitch again.

“That’s where he was. When they set the house on fire. My mom could never sleep without him, so she was waiting for him, making a few bottles for my brother in the kitchen.” A slow, shuddering exhale, and a few quick blinks of your eye allows you to see straight again. “I always think about what he was doing. If he was happy— if he struggled. Sometimes he fell asleep down there and mom had to go and drag him to bed. I like to think he was asleep when it happened.”

“My mum was screaming. For him, for me to get out. For my brother. I don’t even remember how I got the door unlocked. I think I dislocated my shoulder breaking it down. Eventually I knew mom was... she stopped screaming. I just kept bashing the door down. I was thinking ‘if I can just get in here, just get him and then I can go and help her’. He was a baby. I had to—“ You saw lines forming in the dry blood on Frank’s chest, and you knew you were crying. You straightened up, not wanting to get anything else on him. “I still remember Bobby. His face, hovering behind his fathers. Coming to collect their prize. My brother had ash on his face, he was sneezing every three seconds and I couldn’t stop him crying.”

Your words were choked, and every sentence came out in a hiccuped string of sobs you knew were hardly coherent. Somewhere in between, you ad sewn him up. You had managed it — somehow, you had tied him together, at least enough so the blood wasn’t dripping like a faucet anymore. There was more to do, so much blood all over him. His head was hanging off the couch, and there was a piece of metal you hadn’t seen sticking out of his right arm.

You grabbed the bottles of water you saw in the corner, along with the saline and remaining gauze. You were running out considering how much you had used on the gun shot wound, but you’d manage. You wiped your tears on the back of your arm and got to work, and you couldn’t seem to stop yourself from talking to him.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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[wicked-mind]

Promises

Summary: You have been in a relationship with Bucky and Steve for a while and it’s been great. Until they start to get reckless on missions, expecting you to just heal them with your healing ability when they get back. What they weren’t expecting is for you to lose your shit about it.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Swearing, injuries, mentions of hospital type stuff.

Note: This was an anonymous request (: Thank you so much for sending it in and I hope you like it!

All Writings Masterlist

Any and all likes, comments, and reblogs are deeply appreciated! I love that shit (:

*gifs not mine

Dating two super soldiers was a little problematic at first. It took the Avengers less time to get used to the idea than it did for the public though. There were countless news articles about you being manipulative, wrapping them around your fingers for your own gain. But just as quickly as that gossip started, it faded away also when pictures were released how happy the three of you were together. It was odd, sure, but you, Steve, and Bucky loved each other more than anything in the world. The three of you even were gifted an apartment in the facility so everybody else didn’t have to hear the noises that came from one of your three bedrooms.

Steve was what you would classify as the gentle but hard headed one. He always made sure to touch you so gently and keep his voice from being raised or going into captain mode around you. He loved to press his nose to yours, staring into your eyes with a smile as he ran his fingers through your hair and whispered sweet things to you but once he made up his mind about something there was no deterring him. Bucky was a little different. He was more possessive of you, touching you and pulling you into his body whenever he could like your touch was the only thing keeping him alive. He was the same way with Steve though, seeming to need the touch from his two lovers to survive. You figured it was because of all his time with Hydra that he was touch starved and possessive of having something, two someones, he could call his again.

The Avengers kept your around for another reason, however. You had the ability to heal wounds of those you touched which came in useful when someone on the team came back injured and needed some sort of quick fix and was even more useful when someone happened to be come back with life threatening wounds. At first you were happy to help, healing wounds of whoever came in but then it started to eat away at you. Steve and Bucky were becoming more and more reckless with every mission they went on like they didn’t care if they came back mortally wounded knowing you’d be there to heal them back up. It had begun to eat at you, watching them leave for a mission and not knowing if they would make it back in time for you to save them.

This time was no different. You tried to tell them to be safe before they left and they both smiled and gave you kisses saying they would. They almost caught you murmuring ‘liars’ under your voice but seemed to let it go. Steve and Bucky had gone on a mission with Natasha and Clint earlier in the week and about twenty minutes ago Natasha called to let you know to be ready in the medical bay. You had your arms folded, chewing on your bottom lip. As awful as it sounded, you hoped it was Clint that needed help and not your boys again. But of course, it wasn’t Clint. Steve and Bucky were rolled into the medical bay by Natasha and Clint on gurneys and you immediately jumped into action, “What happened?” You ask as you looked over Bucky. He had some deep cuts to his face and back of his head, he was fully unconscious and unresponsive when you pinched his arm meaning he was probably in a coma.

“Well that one decided it’d be a good idea to run into a collapsing building after the enemy.” Natasha said as she nodded over to Bucky, “Had to dig him out.”

“And Steve?” You ask as you move to look at Steve. He was unconscious as well and his suite had a large splotch of blood in the center of his chest. You quickly put the heart monitor on his finger to see his heart rate slowing.

“That one is the reason the building collapsed in the first place. He decided to take on the whole squad of goons, setting off an explosive and getting hit with the shrapnel.”

You were about to open your mouth to call them both idiots when Steve’s heart monitor started flatlining, “Dammit!” You yell, ripping his suite open and placing your hands on the wounds. They slowly healed but his heart wouldn’t start beating again. You went into panic mode, needing to be closer to his heart to heal it. You grab the closet scalpel and quickly opened up his chest, sliding your small hand into his chest cavity until you were lightly massaging his heart and healing it with your ability. You watched the heart monitor for any sign of beats for two minutes until finally it started a steady rhythm. You pulled your now bloody hand out of his chest cavity, tracing along the open wound you made until it healed. You could swear you could feel steam coming out of your ears at how angry you were at your two super soldiers for being the biggest, most reckless idiots in the world. Once Steve was taken care of, you go over to Bucky and start healing the wounds on his body before placing both hands on the sides of his head, healing the concussion and brain bleed that was putting him in a coma.

Once you were finished, you pinched him again and he flinched, his eyes opening to look up at you and a small smile creeping across his lips a the sight of you, “Hey, pretty girl.” He said horsely out to you.

You held up your hand to cut him off, stepping away from him, “Save it, Barnes.” You hiss out, watching him flinch a little as you used his last name. You never did that except when you were fuming with anger, “I’m going to go get cleaned up now. When he wakes up,” You said pointing over to Steve, “You can let him know you two will be staying on the couch.”

“But we don’t fit on the couch.” Bucky pouted, sitting up as he watched you head towards the exit of the medical bay, “Wait, baby!”

You turn and look at him, glaring into those beautiful blue eyes you loved so much, “Don’t! I don’t give a fuck if you two don’t fit on the couch. Figure it out!” You yell at him, tears stinging your eyes before you turn and leave the room.

Bucky sat there with a shocked expression on his face before turning to look at Natasha and Clint who were looking anywhere else like they were trying to disappear from the conversation. Bucky was about to ask the pair what happened when Steve groaned awake muttering something about watching your language. Bucky was up in an instant and at Steve’s side, grabbing onto his hand and kissing his knuckles, “You alright, Stevie?”

Steve blinks awake and nods with a small groan, “Yeah, all good, Buck.” He said, reaching his other hand to rub the side of his head before looking around the medical bay for you, “Where’s Y/N?” He asks.

Bucky sighs and drops his head, “I think she’s mad at us. She said we have to sleep on the couch.” He muttered out.

“What?!” Steve said, sitting up instantly, “Why? What did we do?”

“Oh I don’t know.” Natasha said interjecting, “Maybe it’s the fact that you,” She points to Steve, “Decided to be the trigger for an explosion causing you to literally die for a few minutes in front of her. Or you,” She points to Bucky, “Deciding to follow into the collapsing building causing you to go into a coma. I mean, do you guys really not care anymore about safety because your girlfriend happens to be a healer? She can’t heal you if your dead.” Natasha turns on her heels to start walking out of the medical bay with Clint beside her, “You’re lucky she loves you two idiots and is giving you the couch. I would leave you two out in the rain.”

After showering and changing their clothes to look presentable to their pissed off girlfriend, Bucky and Steve walked over to the closed bedroom door. They could hear her inside watching something on the TV loudly to try and cover her cries but it wasn’t enough to drown them out from the super soldiers’ hearing. Steve was the first to try, knocking gently on the door, “Sweetheart, can we talk?”

“No. Couch.” You reply softly, knowing they could hear you. You pulled the blankets around you more, the only light flickering from the TV as it played some dumb love reality show that wasn’t exactly helping your situation.

Bucky nudges Steve out of the way and tries the doorknob but the door was locked and he let out a sigh, “Baby, I know we made you mad but we want to talk about it. We don’t fit on the couch.”

“Fine.” You groan, throwing the blanket off of you and walking over to the door, unlocking the knob and opening it to see them both towering over you at the entrance of the door. Your eyes flickered between them before you pushed past them headed to the kitchen to grab yourself a water bottle. The two muscular men followed you like lost puppies, hot on your heels as they waited for you to say something. You took a long drink from the water bottle you procured from the fridge, leaning against the counter and looking at the two.

Steve looked over at Bucky, slowly reaching out and lacing his fingers through his to have some sort of comfort from your glares. He slowly looked back over to you, “Honey, I know you’re mad that we were reckless this mission but we will be more careful and-“

You held up a hand to cut him off, licking your lips before you spoke, “Stop.” You told him, “I’ve heard this before plenty of times. ‘Oh we won’t be reckless.’ ‘Oh don’t worry we are super soldiers’ ‘You’re here to heal us every time.’ Well I am sick of it. You have no idea what it’s like to watch the loves of your lives literally be brought back from death by your own hand!” You yell, your voice getting louder and tears stinging your eyes again, “You were dead Steve! I held your unbeating heart in my hand!” You turn your gaze to Bucky, “And you! You decide to go along with Captain Reckless over here, not even telling him that maybe it’s a bad idea. That maybe setting off an explosion that would burry you both is a bad idea.” You shook your head, taking a deep breath in attempts to calm your voice.

Bucky gripped onto Steve’s hand tighter at your words that felt like venom in his veins, “We were doing our jobs, Y/N. We couldn’t let them get away we had to at least try to-“

“Stop. Talking.” You hiss out to the dark haired super soldier who immediately shut his mouth and had this look on his face like a scolded child, “You two promised me forever. You two told me you love me. You two told me you’d be here with me forever.” You pause, tears running down your cheeks and you stepped away when they took a step forward to comfort you as they always did, “You shouldn’t have promised me any of that. You shouldn’t have promised me forever if you two are so hell bent on dying.”

Steve and Bucky stood there in shock at your words. Neither of them have thought about the toll this had taken on you. They stared at you for a moment before watching you escape back to the bedroom. It wasn’t until the door slammed and locked that the two soldiers jumped out of their trance. Bucky folded first, his hands coming up to cover his face as his shoulders shook from the crying. Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky slowly, comforting him with soft sweet words. They didn’t fight you about sleeping on the couch that night, even though it was pretty much a shoving war of who could get the comfiest on the couch that was way too small for both of their six foot tall muscular bodies. It ended up with both of them just sleeping on the floor, curled up next to each other. But it felt wrong for both of them. Something was missing from their sleeping pile and they knew exactly what it was. You.

The next morning you laid in the large bed alone in the middle, staring at the ceiling as you listened for any sounds coming from your super soldiers outside the bedroom. When it was silent for about twenty minutes, you slowly walked out of the bedroom expecting to see them hovering outside the door waiting for you but they weren’t there. You let out a small sigh of relief and started your day. You showered, had some breakfast, brushed your teeth, and got dressed before heading to the medical bay to go over your records. Luckily, Steve and Bucky seemed to be keeping their distance from you because you hadn’t seen them all day while you were working. You halfway wondered if they just went on another mission without saying goodbye this time but you knew better and so did they. You three never parted without saying goodbye and I love you to each other. It wasn’t until you wondered back up to your apartment in the facility that you stopped in your tracks after opening the door. There the two were, dressed in nice button down shirts and each holding bouquets of your favorite flowers. You bit your bottom lip as the door shut behind you with a soft click, staring at the two before your eyes wondered around the room. The lighting was dimmed and you could see the table set for three with plates of your favorite dinner on them and one of Bucky’s apple pies he had learned to make from his ma when he was younger. It was one of your favorites and they both knew it always made you smile and press your lips together as you let out a soft mmm sound that seemed to drive them both feral. Your eyes flickered back to the two as Bucky started to speak.

“Baby, we are very sorry for not thinking about how this affects you and taking your ability for granted.” Bucky said softly to you, walking forward and passing you the bouquet of flowers to you before sneaking his arm around your waist and leaving a soft kiss to your left temple.

Steve walked forward as well, giving you his bouquet to you before reaching a hand up to touch your cheek with his warm palm, “We love you so much, sweetheart. We never wanted to hurt you like this and we are so very, deeply, sorry.” He kisses your forehead gently before pulling away to look into your eyes with his honest ones, “We’re taking some time away from missions, as long as we need to prove that we do want you forever. When we made those promises to you, we meant it with every fiber of our being. You complete us, sweetheart. We don’t know what we would do without you.”

You chewed on your bottom lip incessantly at their words, knowing it would be raw and puffy by the time you released it from your teeth. Once you did you sighed, you couldn’t stay mad at them. Not when they looked so good and made amends to you to keep the promises they made to you at the beginning of the relationship. You nod slowly, “Fine. I forgive you two idiots as long as you both promise to not be reckless. Come back to me in one piece, alive and not mortally wounded. Deal?” You watched them both nod instantly with streams of yes leaving their lips before moving past them to set the flowers down in the vases they had already prepared with water. When you turned to face them, there they were standing in front of you.

Bucky reached out and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest in a tight hug as if he hadn’t hugged you in years, “I love you, baby.” He whispers to you.

Steve moved behind you, wrapping his arms around Bucky in front of you to sandwich you between them in the tightest hug you’ve felt in a while, “I love both of you.” He says with a smile, kissing the top of your head before kissing the top of Bucky’s as well.

“I love you idiots, too.” You squeak out between their tight hug, “But I think I’m losing air and I want some pie.”

Bucky sighs, not wanting the hug to end, “Fine. But I’m spoon feeding it to you.” He said down to you with a smile as Steve releases the both of you and Bucky steps back away.

Steve grins, “And I’ll spoon feed you.” He said to Bucky.

__________________________________________________________

Permanent Taglist: @buckypops @bibliophilewednesday @stcrryslibrary @buckys2thicc @redhairedfeistynerd @princessnnylzays

[ragingbookdragon]

When The Music's Not Forgotten PT. 1

Green Lantern!Reader x Lantern Family Story!

Word Count: 5.3K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mature Themes, Violence

Author's Note: I legit had a breakdown trying to think about what to label this fic as. Almost put 'Batsis' but then I realized it's not Batsis nor Lantern!Sis so I was like...uh...what do I do? We'll figure it out. Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Her first thought when she opened the front door to the Coast City apartment and saw her dad in a headlock by Kyle and Kyle in a headlock by Guy who was in one by John, who was in one by her dad, was: this is totally and completely normal.

The second thought: that nothing involving her father and uncles ever surprised her anymore, occurred to her as said father and said uncles stopped arguing with one another and cocked their heads up, looking at her, each of their faces exhibiting the epitome of “I got caught with my hand in the cookie jar” shock, in which she merely returned with a blank stare before closing the door behind her, marching into the kitchen with the grocery bags.

Of course, that also meant the second she did, they were stumbling in to explain what had brought them to the unfortunate moment of head-locking each other, but also to see what she’d bought and what she was going to cook for dinner. She paid them no mind, ducking under arms and between bodies as she maneuvered around them kitchen, putting things away.

Someone curled an arm around her neck, pressing their lips to her temple. “Hey Raptor.”

She smiled. “Hey dad.” Tossing a beer behind her, she added, “Uncle Guy. Uncle John. Kyle.”

Guy caught his beer, popping the tab, and Kyle looked at her, crossing his arms over his chest. “How come everyone else is ‘uncle’ and I’m not?” he looked hurt. “Am I somehow different, (Y/N)?”

She paused and threw another beer behind her. “Kyle, were almost the same age. I’m not calling you my uncle because John and Guy are older than both of us.”

“Not that much,” he griped, popping his beer tab. “It still hurts my feelings.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and handed John the final beer. “Would it make you feel better if I told you I considered you to be my favorite cousin?”

Kyle smiled at her. “Yes, it would.”

She nodded then glanced at Hal. “Dad, tacos or burgers?”

“I dunno.” He said, glancing at the others. “You guys?”

“Burgers.”

“Tacos.”

“Burgers.”

She cocked a brow and looked at her father. “Seems like you’ll either make a tie or a win.”

“I have been thinking about good tacos, Raptor,” he replied, and she nodded.

“Tacos it is.” Guy and John groaned, and she shot them a glare. “Hey! Lock that shit up or I’m not cookin’.” Immediately they shut their mouths, listening to Kyle and Hal snicker. “Buncha children.” She griped, dumping the ground beef into a skillet to brown.

“So, (Y/N),” Guy drawled, leaning against the kitchen counter. And honestly, the entire kitchen was way too small for four grown men and a grown woman to be in at one time, but she’d gotten used to it, so why fix what wasn’t broke.

“So, Uncle Guy.” She repeated, shifting the meat around with the spatula.

“Why exactly did you start working at the Wayne Enterprises branch here?”

She could feel the eyes of her family on her back, and she couldn’t help but roll hers. “Maybe because Mister Wayne pays good salaries to his employees and his health insurance coverage is fantastic?” (Y/N) glanced over her shoulder. “But something tells me you’re asking for another answer.”

He grinned. “Which son of Wayne’s are you dating?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes again. “I love you, but you’re an idiot.” She turned back to the pan. “I’m not dating any of his sons. Dick’s with Koriand’r, Jason’s a douche-bag, and their brothers are way too young.”

“Doesn’t he have a daughter?”

“Cass is dating a girl she goes to college with.” She took an onion from the basket against the kitchen wall atop the counter. “Keep digging though, Uncle Guy. You’ll hit rock bottom soon enough.”

“Does that mean you’re dating the big Bat?”

She almost cried from laughter as Hal choked on his beer and spluttered. “No. I’m not dating Mister Wayne. He’s old enough to be my dad.”

John chuckled. “I don’t know, (Y/N). When you first met Bruce at, what? Ten? You told him you were going to marry him.”

Her cheeks burned and she scowled at them. “I meant Batman because he was kind-hearted, and I was totally awestruck as a little girl. Let it go.” Her eyes fell on Hal. “Dad, tell ‘em to let it go.”

He nodded. “Please let it go.” Kyle started humming ‘Here Comes the Bride’ and while the others snickered, Hal screwed his eyes shut. “Oh God, stop. I don’t want to think about my precious baby anywhere near that anal retentive kitchen scale.”

The other snickered and before she could say anything, their rings started beeping. She looked at them as their faces turned solemn, setting their beers down as their suits flashed to life.

“Trouble on Oa,” John said.

“Gotta fly?” she asked, and Hal nodded, leaning over to kiss her temple.

“Gotta fly, Raptor.” He hugged her quickly and followed John and the others to the balcony. “I love you.”

“I love you too, dad.” (Y/N) waved. “Be careful, Corpsmen.” They all waved at her and took off, leaving her in the apartment alone and she sighed, turning back to the kitchen. “Another dinner…alone.” She couldn’t help but deflate. “Wonderful.”

***

She continued cooking for almost an hour when the balcony doors opened and closed, and she smiled. “Hey guys. You’re back rather early.” When she didn’t hear a response, she immediately fell on guard and she took one of the kitchen knives from its holder, brandishing it.

Carefully, she walked into the dimly lit living room, eyes scanning the expanse for whoever was in the apartment with her. None of the floorboards were creaking, no rustling of fabric or scuffing of shoes. It was completely silent, and that made her nervous.

Stay calm. The worst thing you can do in a situation when you need to be calm is to be panicked. Slow breaths. Keep focused.

She repeated his words in her head and shifted around the hallway wall, eyes peeled for trouble.

Small steps when sweeping buildings. If an enemy rounds a corner and it comes to close combat, you’ll want to be able to hit them and taking big steps causes instability.

(Y/N) crept down the hall and came upon the bathroom just beside her father’s bedroom door. Quickly, she peeked in, seeing it empty, then cross the doorway, pausing beside her father’s door. She inhaled deeply, then turned her head around the corner, seeing it empty and dark. The only room left was hers.

She crossed to the other side of the wall and hurried down to her door, and with another sharp breath, she turned and looked in. Again, it was empty. Confusion bled through her as she returned to the living room, the hand holding the knife lowered beside her thigh.

“That’s strange.” She murmured. “I thought I—”

“Heard something?”

She gasped and spun around, bringing the knife up, but they caught it with ease, squeezing her wrist until she cried in pain and dropped it. (Y/N) heard the clattering in her ears as they grabbed her other hand and shoved her down into the couch.

She started thrashing wildly, about to scream when she heard, “I thought I told you not to turn your back on people.”

(Y/N) stilled and turned her head, catching that stupidly smart smirk. “You fucker.” She cursed at him, torn between laughing hysterically and cursing some more. “I can’t believe you turned this into a lesson.”

He shrugged. “Had to know if you were learning any better.” Smiling at her, he quipped, “Your sweeping is great. Detection skills? Not so much.”

“Let me up, Jason.” she commanded, rolling her eyes and he snorted, letting go of her arms. Immediately, she spun and cocked her elbow into his jaw, smiling as he grunted in pain and grabbed it.

“Damn,” he hissed. “You’ve got elbowing down to an art.”

She grinned. “I’ve had a good teacher.”

They stared on another down for a moment, then all at once, they were yanking at shirts and unbuckling belts, grabbing each other, and tugging closer to one another as their lips met in a searing kiss.

(Y/N) shoved at the jacket on his shoulders, moving her lips to his jaw and he groaned, taking his hands from her hips for just a moment to pull the article off. He shifted out of reach, and she glanced towards the kitchen.

“I turned the oven off,” Jason muttered, yanking his crimson shirt over his head. “Figured we’d be too busy to eat dinner.”

She giggled and shoved him off the couch, watching as he scrambled to his feet; she stood and started pulling off her own clothes, first her shirt, then her bra and Jason almost collapsed at her feet when she tugged her pants to her ankles.

“C’mon, Jay, don’t be shy.” (Y/N) cooed. “Show me what you’ve got.”

He chuckled, and unbuckled his belt, letting it fall to the floor as he back-stepped down the hallway. “Oh, you want a show, Miss Jordan?”

She smirked at him and stuck her thumbs in the sides of her thong. “I’d love a show, Mister Todd.”

“I might made you beg a little for it,” he shot back coolly, toeing off his combat boots and she hummed.

“I will if you will.” (Y/N) said, watching his hands unbutton the charcoal-colored utility pants he wore.

“My eyes are up here.” Jason quipped, though he didn’t seem to stop as he shoved his pants down, leaving him in his boxers, and he hit her doorway.

“True, but my attention is elsewhere.” She drew her eyes up his toned body, internally smirking as he seemed to shiver under her gaze, and she pushed her thong down her legs. (Y/N) stood before him and reached out, placing her hands flat on his chest. He was so hot underneath her palms and she slowly rubbed her hands up to the sides of his neck.

“(Y/N),” he murmured huskily, arms winding around her waist, and she smirked.

“Take me to bed, Jason.”

Immediately, he bent down and grabbed the back of her thighs, digging his fingers in until she lifted and wrapped her arms around his waist. “With pleasure,” he purred.

***

By the time Hal and the other lanterns got back to the apartment, it was well into the morning, and he could tell that everyone just wanted to crash in exhaustion, too tired to even think about flying to their own homes.

He opened the balcony doors and let them inside. “Lemme get some blankets from the hall closet,” he muttered, voice as ragged as his body felt.

“Who the hell played strip poker in here?”

Hal looked up at Guy who was holding up a crimson t-shirt with a baffled expression. “What?”

Guy met his gaze then nodded down the hall. “Someone’s been tangoing.”

When he craned his neck to peek down the hallway, sure enough there was a trail of clothing leading down to her room. His eyes went wide, and he suddenly forgot about his exhaustion as he leaped over the couch and sprinted down the hall, the other Lanterns hot on his heels.

Hal skidded to a stop in her doorway and immediately screeched, “(Y/N) JORDAN WHO THE HELL IS IN YOUR BED?!”

The two young adults in the bed startled up, and she held the sheet to her chest as she gaped at her father. “Dad! You—you’re here!”

He gestured wildly. “OF COURSE, I’M HERE! I FUCKING LIVE HERE! WHO THE FUCK IS IN YOUR BED?!”

“Morning, Hal,” Jason greeted, with a mock salute. “How’s your day so far?”

“MY DAY?!” he bellowed, already starting for the young man, and John was quick to grab Hal around the waist. “LET GO! I’M GOING TO MURDER THIS SON OF A BAT FOR CORRUPTING MY DAUGHTER!”

“Excuse me,” Jason said, rather affronted, then pointed at her. “It’s (Y/N) who’s corrupted me.”

(Y/N) barely had time to hide her snort as she elbowed him in the side. “Shut the hell up.” She cleared her throat and looked at the men in her doorway. “Uh…can you close the door so I can get dressed?”

“CLOSE THE DOOR?! I’M GOING TO TAKE THE DOOR OFF ITS HINGES! YOU ARE GROUNDED, (Y/N) JORDAN DO YOU HEAR ME! YOU ARE—”

Guy and John dragged Hal off and Kyle shut the door but threw a thumbs up at Jason before he left.

***Part Two***

She tried to look anywhere but her father’s face as he continued to berate her and Jason. And honestly, he’d stopped making sense about thirty minutes ago and while she couldn’t look at her uncles for fear of bursting into laughter, Jason had no problems cracking a smirk at everything Hal was yelling about.

“—AND I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU HAD A BOY IN THE HOUSE!” he paused, horror drawing across his face, then it immediately turned into anger. “THIS ISN’T THE FIRST TIME HE’S COME OVER IS IT?! HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN GOING ON?!”

Her face pinched and she inquired, “Which question do you want answered first? The one you asked when you first started yelling or the last one just now?”

“I am in no mood for games, (Y/N) Jordan. You brought a boy into the house without permission.”

“I am a man.” Jason interrupted.

She elbowed him in the ribs. “I didn’t realize I needed permission to bring my boyfriend into the house.”

“BOYFRIEND?!” Hal screeched.

(Y/N) blinked. “I’m confused. Are you angry at me calling him my boyfriend? Do you want me to call him my fuckbuddy or something?”

“HEY!” both Jason and Hal in unison and her father glared at him. “SHUT UP!”

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you, dad…I’m twenty-one. Having a boyfriend is a completely normal thing. Having a consensual sexual relationship with someone is a normal thing.”

Hal spluttered for a moment then pointed at Jason. “NOT WITH HIM!”

“What’s wrong with me?” Jason question, rather offendedly, then he held up a hand. “I mean, besides the obvious things that are wrong with me.”

“YOU’RE YOU! THE SON OF BATMAN!”

“I mean…” Jason drawled. “That’s technically debatable most days.”

(Y/N) looked at him. “You’re not exactly helping the case, Jay.”

“I’m not trying to.” He grinned at her. “I’m seeing if I can make your dad go red.”

She tutted at him. “Jason Todd trying to corrupt a Green Lantern into a Red Lantern. Shame.”

“QUIT DOING THAT!” Hal howled as they started snickering, seeming to get lost in their own little world. Suddenly, he was marching down the hallway and coming back with a cellphone.

They watched in confusion for a moment, then Jason’s eyes widened. “Oh no.”

“What?” (Y/N) worried.

“He’s calling B.”

“What.”

Hal put the phone to his ear and glowered at the two of them until the line clicked and he immediately yelled, “DO YOU KNOW YOUR DELINQUENT SON IS DATING MY DAUGHTER?...WHAT?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU ALREADY KNOW?!...EXCUSE ME?! WHAT?!”

He hung up the phone and set it on the table, then proceeded to turn around and grab a pillow from the couch, bringing it to his face. Hal bellowed into the pillow and Jason nudged her. “How long is he gonna be like this?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Probably another minute or two. He’ll start up again in about an hour though.”

Jason hummed and stood from the table. “Well, I’d love to stay and get yelled at some more but if I’m being honest, I only need one father yelling at me and not two.”

“Where are you going?” she questioned.

“Roy and I have a mission in Costa Rica tomorrow evening.” He bent down and kissed her lips. “I’ll call you when I land.”

(Y/N) smiled and before he pulled away, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him in for another searing kiss, one that erupted wolf-whistles from the other Lanterns around them—which also had Hal pulling his head up at the sound, immediately shouting again.

“Love you,” she murmured, and he winked.

“Love you more, doll.” He tossed a mock salute to Hal and the others before leaving and she sat back in her seat, readying herself for another round of bellowing.

***

Surprisingly, Hal had relaxed after a few hours. That being said, (Y/N) really had to work on him to do so but being an only child and her dad’s pride and joy played a big part—she knew the man could never stay mad at her. Of course, he’d immediately put rules into place over the whole relationship thing. No boys in the house without permission, no closing the door when a boy was over, no more Bat-sons in the Jordan apartment…he was overreacting, but it wasn’t anything new in (Y/N)’s opinion.

But he did ease up after a few months, mainly because as anti-social as Jason was most days, he was damn good at working people over when he wanted to. And in her boyfriend’s opinion, the easiest way to work her dad over was to tell him all the ways to screw with Bruce—which Hal took in like a sponge with water. As annoying as it was to see the two men so giddy over a plan, she was glad they were just getting along.

However, when Hal learned that (Y/N) was being trained by Jason, and on the rare occasions, Bruce, his meltdown the first night seemed like a walk in the park compared to the storm blowing in.

***

So…what are you wearing?

She snorted, crossing at the formula of the equation, rewriting a new one beside it. “Jason, I’m not having phone-sex with you.”

Hmm…I bet you’re wearing red panties.

“Cold.” (Y/N) retorted with a grin. “They’re blue actually. You know, like Nightwing’s suit?”

Why do you hate me?

“I haven’t the faintest clue what you mean, Jay.”

You’re evil, you know that? Like you portray innocence but in reality, you’re evil.

She snorted again when a tapping came at her bedroom window and she frowned, leaning over; Jason saw it from the camera.

Everything alright?

(Y/N)’s eyes drifted to his face then to the window and she stood. “Yeah, someone’s at the window.”

(Y/N). He warned and she leaned over, seeing Kyle floating there.

“It’s Kyle.”

What’s Kyle doing there? I thought he was on Oa.

She nodded, brows furrowing as she murmured, “I did too.” Opening the window, she greeted, “Hey, what’s up?”

Kyle seemed nervous. No, he seemed concerned. “I need you to come with me.”

“Is my dad okay?” she asked outright, and he nodded.

“Yeah, Hal’s good…but he needs to talk to you.” Kyle waved a hand over her phone, and it shut off. “It’s important.”

(Y/N) felt her heart thump in her chest at how serious her friend was, and she nodded. “Alright. Let’s go.”

***

She’d only ever been to the Watchtower once. And the only thing she remembered from the trip was getting lost in one of the hallways only to be found by Batman who merely picked her sobbing frame up and hummed to her until she fell asleep.

So really, it was like a first time visit all over again, and when she came face to face with not only the Justice League, well Wonder Woman, Batman, and Superman, and her uncles, she wasn’t exactly excited. It felt like she’d been called to the principal’s office for expulsion.

Hal pointed to a seat, which she took, not wanting to open her mouth when she had no idea what was going on.

Wonder Woman, surprisingly, was the first to speak. “What is your daughter doing here, Hal?”

Her father merely looked at (Y/N) then to Bruce, questioning, “How long?” They stared one another down and she felt as lost as last year’s Easter eggs. “How long, Bruce?” Hal asked again.

Batman didn’t even blink. “A full year. When she started working at the branch in Coast City, I had Jason start it.”

“Motherfucker.” Hal cursed, chuckling humorlessly. “I do all I can to keep her out of this bullshit and you drag her into it.”

“(Y/N) wanted to train. She emailed me through a private channel about it.”

All eyes turned onto her and then she knew what was happening. “He’s…right, dad. I wanted to be trained to fight.”

Hal gaped at her. “Why? You’re going to school? You’re working? Why do you want to train?”

(Y/N) swallowed thickly. “To be like you guys. You know, useful?” she stood from the table. “Look, I know you’re worried, but even Batman’s noted major improvements. He says I’m almost ready to start patrolling on my own.” She looked to him for help.

“She’s smart, Hal. And I’m not saying that to float the Jordan ego. Jason’s not one to give commendation where it shouldn’t be.” Batman nodded at her. “(Y/N)’s not my kids, but she’s right behind them on how good she is.”

Hal’s brown eyes turned onto him in a fierce glare. “Yeah, well, unlike you, I don’t make a habit out of putting my kid in danger. I know you have a thing for going through sons.”

“HEY!” (Y/N) shouted, getting his attention as she stood to her feet. “I’m old enough to make this decision for myself and if Batman says I’m good enough to do this, I’m gonna do it.”

“Nope. Not happening.” Hal rejected. “End of discussion.”

“No.”

His eyes went wide first with shock, then with the audacity of her language. “Excuse me?”

(Y/N) momentarily wanted to cave, but she held strong and tightened her jaw. “I said no.” she declared. “I’m gonna do this.”

Hal rounded the table, stomping up to her. “No, you’re not.”

“What’re you gonna do, dad? Lock me in the house for the rest of my life?” she suggested. “I have rights you know.”

“Not to do shit like this. I don’t want you being a hero.”

(Y/N) gazed at him, and suddenly, everyone felt the mood shift as she murmured, “It’s because I’m not a Lantern, isn’t it, dad?”

Hal’s jaw went slack. “What? What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” She shot back coolly, then tipped her head to the other league members. “See, they get to brag about their kids. Superboy, the Robins, the Wonder-Girls...everyone on this team has a trainee but you.” (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed. “And you hate that I’m not like you, don’t you? That I can’t seem to figure out what it takes to wear that ring.”

She glanced at her uncles who were gaping at her. “See, you look at them like they’re the greatest people in the universe. And then when you look at me? It’s easy to see the devotion shift. Deep down it makes you disappointed that I’m not a Green Lantern.”

“You are absolutely out of line.” He growled.

“Am I, dad?” (Y/N) challenged. “Everyone here gets to brag about their superhero trainees but when it comes you, what can you say? ‘My daughter isn’t a Green Lantern like me, sorry!’?” she looked at him. “I’m not a Green Lantern, but I am something else. I can be something else. Let me prove it to you.”

Hal gazed at her for along moment. “…No.”

(Y/N) snapped. “Why the fuck not! What is it about me that just makes you so antagonistic at the idea of me being something like you!”

“Watch your language, young lady. I’m still your father.” He demanded.

“Oh please, as far as I’m concerned, you were just a failed pilot on leave who fucked my mom and got her pregnant.”

It happened before anyone realized it. The sharpest crack any of them had ever heard in their lives and (Y/N) turned her face back to him, a hand coming up to press against her stinging cheek. And Hal? Hal was staring at his hand as if it didn’t belong to him.

She wasn’t mad. Shocked, sure, but not mad. If anything, it’d proved her point and she merely regarded him with an assured gaze. “Bogey down, huh dad?” she remarked, and his eyes shot to hers.

Hal’s mouth opened but nothing would come out except, “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Yeah, you did,” she whispered, taking a step back from him when he reached for her.

His face crumpled and he brokenly called, “(Y/N), wait!”

But she was already running for the door, Batman on her heels.

***

“Do you want me to call Jason?” he asked quietly, watching her open the balcony doors.

Her hands stilled for a moment, then she resumed twisting the key. “No…and don’t tell him this happened either.”

“Why not?”

(Y/N) looked back at him. “Because you and I both know that Jason would beat my dad senseless.”

“…Do you want to come back to Gotham for a while?”

She opened the doors and sighed. “I don’t know, Batman.” Glancing back, she added, “I don’t really know what I want right now.”

“Do you want to be away from Hal?” he questioned seriously, and she looked at her feet.

“I know what you’re thinking. But he’s not abusive.”

“All evidence to the contrary.”

(Y/N)’s head snapped up. “My dad’s never laid his hands on me before now.”

“He ever physically discipline you?”

“Swatting your eight-year-old kid’s butt in the middle of a store when they’re having a meltdown over not buying an expensive toy is a lot different from beating them bloody and bruised with a beer bottle or a belt.’ (Y/N)’s eyes darkened, but not at her father’s face in her head, but at Batman. “My dad’s a lot of things. A jackass, a skirt chaser, a self-righteous arrogant prick…but he is not an abuser.”

Batman placed a hand on her shoulder. “He hit you.”

“Yeah? And? I insulted him and my mom straight to his face. Sure, slapping me wasn’t the answer, but I understand the reaction. Does is make is right? No. But neither is what I said. We both fucked up.” She shrugged his hand off. “We’ll talk about it and move on.”

“Because it’s what Jordan’s do?”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh but it was anything but mirthful. “Yeah. It’s what Jordan’s do.” She stepped inside and looked back at him. “Thanks for bringing me home, Batman. I appreciate it.”

He nodded, pulling out his grapple. “Call me if you need anything.” Batman gazed at her. “And think about calling Jason.”

“…I will.”

Batman gazed at her a moment longer then fired the grapple, taking off into the night sky towards the Batplane, then she was watching as it disappeared faster than it came.

With a heavy sigh, she turned and put her hands on the back of the loveseat, shutting her eyes as she thought about the events of the night. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to feel. Angry? Hurt? Responsible? It had to be all the above, especially when she pictured his face in her head after it happened. Shocked, ashamed, horrified, like he couldn’t believe what he’d just done.

(Y/N) didn’t want to think about it, and when she heard a ring flashing in her ears, she turned. “Guys, I don’t wanna talk about—” she fell into a deep silence when she saw the man before her, the yellow suit glowing vividly against the dark sky.

“Hello (Y/N) Jordan. I am Sinestro.”

***Part Three***

Hal had taken her flying more times than she could’ve counted—perks of being a pilots daughter, and while she had faith in aircraft and Green Lantern constructs, she wasn’t sure how to feel about Yellow Lanterns and their tendency to drop people.

Coast City looked so small below her, and she swallowed thickly, trying greatly to keep her fear under control, keeping her eyes on the moon. She knew if Sinestro dropped her at this height, she’d die. There were no chances of survival at all—she’d hit the ground and pancake with the best of ‘em.

“I am rather surprised that you accepted my invitation so easily,” he remarked, not looking at her as they rose through the night sky.

“Yeah, well…I’ve heard enough stories about you to know that you’ll kill me if you want to.” Her eyes followed his frame. “I’d like to extend my life as long as possible.”

“A wise decision, (Y/N).” He noted rather humorously, finally taking the time to look back at her. “I’ve watched you for some time now.”

Ignoring the implications and total creepiness of the statement, she instead asked, “How long?”

“Long enough to see the potential you have in greater things.” Sinestro replied and reached a hand out, a horde of golden glowing constructs appearing before her eyes. Her training with Batman, with Jason, even with Hal and the others—most importantly, the fight just before. “It hurts that he doesn’t trust you to be like him, doesn’t it?”

She didn’t respond, merely watching the moment of his hand coming back across her face over and over again as the feelings welled in her chest.

“You try so hard to be of use to Hal. To be a Green Lantern like him, but nothing you do makes him proud.” He gazed at her with something akin to pity, but it felt like a manipulation. “I understand your fear of failure…of shame.” Holding out his hand, he made her own raise beside her body and a yellow ring floated from his palm. “I can feel the anger inside you. Your fear fights to quell it.” Sinestro smiled. “I almost want to call Atrocitus and have him recruit you into the Red Corps.”

(Y/N)’s eyes fell to the ring, and she clenched her hand into a fist to keep it from sliding onto her finger. “I—I can’t be a Yellow Lantern.”

“Why not?”

“Why n—because you’re the enemy of the Green Lanterns!” she shouted. “I’d be betraying my father and my friends and my family!”

He gave her a knowing look. “The same family that looked upon you with shame every time you tried to wield the green power ring, but couldn’t?”

She felt like she’d been shot, and her jaw dropped. “I…”

Sinestro nodded. “I understand. But you don’t, (Y/N). Willpower must be had since birth. Fear however—” he reached out, uncurling her fingers. “Can be taught. And you have potential to be trained with terror.” He met her gaze. “You can’t be a Green Lantern like Hal wants…but you can become something he has to recognize. Something powerful. Something fearsome.”

(Y/N) stared at him, and this time, she didn’t fight as the ring slipped onto her finger. (Y/N) Jordan of Earth. You possess the ability to instill great fear. Welcome to the Sinestro Corps.

The world started swirling around her, golden flashes of light bound her body and she screamed in terror as her nightmares came alive before her. The chains coiled, almost like snakes creeping up her body, tighter and tighter around her throat and up around her skull. The last thing she saw through her fearful gaze was Sinestro laughing darkly and the world before her went dark and she was subjected to her minds torment, brought upon by the forged ring.

For a moment, the world was calm, then the chains fell away, and (Y/N) stood before Sinestro, clothed in an exo-suit, similar to her father’s, but instead of the bright, awe-inspiring green, it was a golden, fear-inducing yellow.

And when she opened her eyes, they narrowed onto Sinestro, and all she said was, “I’m ready to receive my orders.”

[newtonsheffield]

Hi! Hope you’re having a nice weekend. I was curious if you would ever consider exploring a “What if” AU for Royals where Anthony does call Kate after that first night? I know it probably wouldn’t be as dramatic, but there was a line in there about how Anthony knows if he hadn’t done what he had done, then everyone probably would have thought he was perfect for Kate, and it made me wonder what that would have been like for them.

Hello!

I am having a good weekend! It's a four day weekend leading into a two day work week courtesy of this trash team building day so you know!

Anyway! I think that had it not been for the coup of it all, The palace would have been glad of the idea of Anthony as Kate's companion. He's young, and handsome, and a viscount, she could definitely do worse. So let's take a little look at how this would have gne.

“Did you have a run in with some sort of animal last night, Kate?”

And in her sleep deprived state Kate hadn’t seemed to think the better of sharing this with her seventeen year old sister, “Something like that.”

Edwina had made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat, “Sophie’s on her way in, and you might want to dig out some high necklines to cover that mess.”

Sophie’s eyes had flickered over her appearance in that non judgmental way she had tutting a little and saying “I’ll send the make up girls in. I hope it was at least good.”

And something deep within her had burned when she saw the little patchwork quilt of bruises and nips he’d left along her collarbone, her neck, possessively done almost, a smirk coming to her face when she thought that at least she wouldn’t have to have the stylists cover the marks his stubble had left between her thighs.

“Oh it was good enough.”

“You’re foul.” Edwina had said primly, though her lips were ticking upwards in a smirk. “Will we be seeing this, I hesitate to use the word gentleman, again?”

Kate’s heart had done an odd little flutter as she thought about the note she’d left him, forcing herself to shrug. “I don’t know.”

She sat in the make up chair while her team chatted around her, working quickly before she had to meet Mary. Kate's mind kept slipping back to last night, the way Anthony had grinned down at her in his kitchen as he'd searched for something for them to eat, his hips between hers as he hoisted her onto his kitchen counter his voice hot in her ear Oh look, I've found something for me to eat.

It had been nice despite how filthy parts of it had been, and not just to escape, but to feel some kind of connection.

"Kate, your phone is ringing." Sophie said a little exasperatedly, not looking up from her own phone as she typed furiously.

Kate stared down at it, the unknown number making her heart beat quickly Surely it couldn't be him. She'd only left him a few hours ago... Surely it wasn't him, her hand hesitated over it.

"Oh for God's sake." Edwina snatched the phone from her lap from her chair beside Kate's. And before Kate could stop her she'd answered it. "Hi, Kate's phone?"

Edwina's eyebrows shot up, ignoring Kate's insistently holding out her hand. "Anthony?"

Kate's heart stopped, her mouth falling open, "Eddie give me the phone."

"Anthony, Kate's just in make up right now, Can I-?"

"Give me the phone!"

"Oh! She's done apparently! Well Done Anthony, you got her out of her chair." Edwina was grinning manically now as Kate snatched the phone from her, sweeping from the room her make up barely done, her heart pounding.

"Um Hi? Anthony?"

Silence stretched over the other end of the phone for half a second before a deep voice rumbled through it "Now, I don't know about wanting to escape again, but do you want to get dinner tonight?"

Kate felt her mouth fall open, the answer on her lips immediately, but there was just a tiny problem, last night she'd been Kate, and this morning she had responsibilities and appearances and a make up team and Christ.

"It's kind of... complicated for me." Kate said awkwardly, casting around the hallway, blanching a little as she saw Mary striding this way.

A laugh echoed through the phone "Oh you mean because you're the Princess?"

Kate's stomach sunk, So he had known, she knew he had to have but to hear him say it was different. "Yeah, that complicates my life a lot actually."

Anthony hummed, "I wasn't really honest about myself last night either, but come to dinner with me, and I'll explain. This is going to sound a little insane but... Kate, I'm really glad we met last night and it's been a long time since I met someone that I felt like this with so I'm not really ready to let that go yet."

She could feel her heart pounding, He hadn't been honest about himself? What did that mean? Was he some sort of criminal? No, that didn't seem right, he'd seemed a lot like her, looking for something you shouldn't have been able to find in a dive bar. But it had felt like she'd found it anyway.

And she knew she really shouldn't but she couldn't help herself "Um... yeah okay. But just as a warning... I have to bring a guard with me this time, last night was... unusual for me."

"As long as you're there I don't care." She almost thought he might mean it.

"Can I at least know your last name before tonight?" She should at least know that much if she was going to sell this.

"Well, That seems fair. I'm Anthony Bridgerton."

_______

"Um... Mary?"

Mary looked up at her curiously at the end of their meeting with the Spanish Ambassador. "What's wrong?"

Kate blanched, "Um... nothing's wrong."

Mary raised her eyebrow, "Am I about to find out where you spent last night? Or with whom it was spent?"

"How do you-?"

"Darling, Sophie's a very good liar, but did you really think if I knew you were unwell I wouldn't have checked on you." Kate opened her mouth to give some excuse, to tell her that she hadn't spent the night being bent every which way, but Mary cut her off. "You're an adult, Kate. You can sleep with whoever you like. Do you need the morning after-?"

"Mary!" Kate hissed, looking around at Steve, politely looking in the other direction, obviously wishing he was anywhere but there. "We used protec- I'm not talking about this with you!"

Mary looked fairly unruffled, "Well Why did you bring it up then?"

"I didn't bring that up! I'm going out with him, tonight."

Mary frowned. "And his name is?"

Kate sighed, "Anthony Bridgerton."

Mary's mouth dropped open, "Viscount Anthony Bridgerton?"

Both of them stared at each other, surprised, Steve cleared his throat.

"I am not confirming that the address you were collected from this morning-" Kate avoided Mary's slightly impressed look "is the official residence of Viscount Bridgerton."

Well... Fuck.

__________

Kate could see him, through the window of the restaurant, no other patrons around, even more handsome than he had been last night. He was dressed a little more formally tonight, so was she she supposed, the dark grey plaid of his suit perfectly tailored, the purple of his waistcoat bright against it, the similar to her dress she realised with a small smile.

"We don't have to go in." Steve hummed quietly at her hesitation.

Kate smiled, "I think I will, You could take him right?"

He scoffed, "Please."

Kate swung the door open, watching as Anthony fumbled to his feet, his hand in his hair, adjusting his glasses.

"Kate, sorry... Your Royal Highness?" He seemed nervous here, so different than he'd been last night. Kate rolled her eyes, leaning in to kiss his cheek, a little thrilled at the way his breath caught.

"Kate's fine. Your royal Highness is a little formal for a date. I usually save it for the bedroom." Anthony choked as he pulled out her chair, sliding it in for her to sit.

She watched as he slid back around the table taking his own seat, "And you? Do you prefer Anthony or Lord Bridgerton?"

His eyes widened a little, "So you figured out my secret."

"I don't think it's much of a secret if my mother knows your mother."

His handsome smirk was back, "Did you tell your mum about me?"

Her lips twitched, "Did you tell your mum about me?"

He stared back at her, his eyes dancing in the low light. "I'd like to tell everyone about you, but for now I think I'll keep you to myself."

"There might not be anything to tell, if you don't feed me this time."

"Well, we wouldn't want that now would we?"

Kate groaned when she woke up the next morning, cushioned against Anthony's chest, his hands tangling in her hair, to three missed calls from sophie and a text that said Am I stopping this or not?

A picture of her and Anthony at Dinner, him whispering in her ear, his hand on her thigh, the headline Princess Kate on Steamy Date With Dishy Viscount

Kate hummed showing the article to Anthony a little embarrassedly, "Um... my team wants to know if this is something they should keep quiet for now. Like if this isn't going anywhere, or you don't want this to be-?"

Anthony cut her ff with a kiss, his tongue tangling with hers, his eyes soft. "I think that you should let it come out because... I don't really want to hide this, but if you'd rather not-"

Kate turned back to her phone typing out Let it go, and maybe start preparing to introduce the country to my new boyfriend.

[shhhlikeme]

👀 could I request a steamy makeout sesh with aomine pls!!

Steamy Makeout Session with Aomine Daiki 💦🔝

(mature themes)

A/N: I FINALLY FINISHED KNB AND I AM OFFICIALLY OUT HEREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE boi. I have been itching to get to these requests out and the time has finally come! Le First of many 🤍 🏀 I will update my rules now that I’m back. But basically I hope the small fan base comes back to lifeeee

Aomine Daiki knows he is probably the best kisser to ever live…… fuck

Momoi once made him join the Kissing Booth at the school carnival because she knew how much money she would raise and he literally made 2 girls faint….deadass

His kisses are exactly how we all imagine he does…..maybe a little better smh

It kind of annoys you actually

Because he will kiss you at the most strategic of times (for him) so to exercise his soft control but also to have you yearning for him all day until y’all get in your shared bed

For example, at all of his NBA games, Daiki reserves seats for you and whoever you’d like too bring in the same area every time: right by the tunnel so that he can kiss you before and after he plays

Usually its just a simple quick peck on the lips…

But today after his team surprisingly lost against the Browns, and in the midst of the post-NBA game chaos, Aomine leaned up to kiss you up where you were seated, as per usual

You leaned down to meet him halfway, pressing your lips on his then pulling away from the peck you were used to at games. However, Daiki just urgently cups your face in his giant hands and kisses you with astonishing passion, stealing your breath, and moving his soft lips across yours in the heady way that turns you into goo the way only Aomine knows how

His Big dick energy is on 100

and just when you forget where you even are and try to deepen the kiss, your boyfriend pulls away briskly and walks to the changeroom without so much as a goodbye

You knew that that kiss meant that you better prepare yourself NOW for the hotel room tonight because he is pissed about losing that game and he will take out his aggression on his beautiful girlfriend

You are left flustered and impossibly horny after that kiss, you have to embarrassingly smile at your girlfriends who are just as confused with Aomine’s PDA

That night, Aomine is completely silent when the driver brings you two back to the hotel, and he is silent when you two step into the luxurious elevator, too. You’re used to it from dating an athlete, but you also know that the more silent your man is, the angrier he is about losing, meaning the better he will rail once you two get upstairs

You look up at him, staring only at his soft lips and tanned skin as you two step in the elevator and press floor 26. Another group of people are walking toward your elevator when Aomine growls lowly, so low that only you can hear it. He steps forward and puts his hand out as to say “stop” and the group halts in their place. Aomine nods at them once.

“Occupied.”

he states: his tone allowing absolutely zero room for debate. Aone stares down the surprised group as the doors shut.

When they do close, your NBA player immediately whips around and lunges for you—or should I say your lips—crashing his soft ones on yours and making an entrance into your mouth, never having to beg for one. Begging is your job, when he’s edging you.

You give in and open your mouth, inhaling the scent of your boyfriend’s manly cologne and moaning into the kiss.

Aomine’s large tongue dominates yours into submission, roaming everywhere he’d like to, which also happens to be everywhere you’d like him to, also. He then sucks on your tongue with fervour at the same time that he takes both your breasts in his hands, massaging them gently.

While he is kissing you oh-so-harshly but amazingly, his hand’s ministrations are the quite the contrary— as delicate as a flower, using them to lift the bottom of your breasts slightly as if he’s weighing them, humming because he loves our chest, then using his thumbs to encircle your nipples

Aomine lets out an appreciative sigh into your mouth as your nipples harden underneath his soft touch

You can’t handle this, so you’re arching into his touch, silently begging him to be just as rough with his caresses as he is with his kisses.

He knows the contrast of his no-mercy kiss and barely there tit massage is driving you crazy

He knows.

So you tap him twice on the side of his arm: your safe signal that means you need a second, this time it’s so that you can check why this elevator is the slowest one in the fucking world mate, and when Aomine feels your tap he instantly releases you from the kiss

You immediately regretted your decision.

“No, I untap, still kiss me,” You whispered, breathless and shaken by how much you felt lost when his lips weren’t on yours.

Aomine stared into your eyes with his fiery dark blue ones, searching them to make sure you are good. When his search is merely met with the dark sultry expression in your eyes pleading at him to continue, he then just smirks but switches: now landing soft sweet kisses on your cheeks, forehead…. and then your lips but—

Since this is a switch, now that means Aomine’s gentle caresses from before now become much more relentless, taking your tits in handfuls, pushing them together and tweaking your nipples at the same time

You groan out of pleasure and Daiki does too, you not even realizing that you ultimately forgot to even check what floor y’all were passing. You just wanted him to be between your legs already

Aomine realized that his best game loss cure is making you orgasm, so you knew you anticipated the long night ahead of you

The elevator dings, announcing your arrival on the top floor finally, and Aomine lifts you up with one arm, his left forearm just under your ass, your racing heart pressed to his ear. If you lifted your hand you could easily touch the ceiling lights.

While you mentally thought about what article of clothing you were going to tear off your man first, Aomine lazily searched for the room key.

“God, hurry up,” You snap breathlessly, impatiently wanting his lips on yours again.

Your boyfriend just chuckles heartily before admitting that he forgot the key pass in the car.

You kinda want to rip his head off but you hold back because if you do that then who will kiss you madly and ruin you in the best way other than the love of your life, tonight?

Aomine just nonchalantly trotted back to the elevator and pressed the button again so the doors opened. He steps inside and immediately dropped you down a few inches (still holding you), leaning in to make out with you silly once more. You are in heaven 😩

On the way down, when the elevator annoyingly stopped on a random floor—breaking your kiss to accommodate others........ you ultimately made Aomine fall in love with you even more because you surprised him—beating him to the punch by putting a hand out to the hotel guests and stating,

“Occupied.”

Before the doors shut.

Back to my 2020 KNB Masterlist!

[slasherbastard]

Brahms and

“I am damaged.”

(Gives me Heathers vibes lolol)

(gif credit: toloveakiwi)

Warnings: Angst. A lot of Angst, swearing, suicide mention Word count: 2112 Notes: I was this close to writing a bad ending with the manor burning down but I felt bad for Brahms in this one - ALSO if you read this before I edited the first paragraph I’m sorry for the confusion lmao

A fresh start was what you needed. You managed to get away from your family once you took a job across the country as an accountant but you got lost on what felt like a never ending road heading to the middle of nowhere. When you first discovered the Manor it was by accident. You’d been walking for who knows how long among roads surrounded by trees, scared you’d eventually end up trespassing onto someone’s property - but instead you found yourself outside big open gothic gates.

The sun was starting to set and you tried calling out to whoever might’ve been inside the house behind the black spiked fences for a good half hour before going against your morals and just going inside. That’s when you discovered a few odd things. You didn’t know whether to start on the fact that there was drying blood on the floor or the chalk-like substance beside it next to the broken glass belonging to the mirror on the wall, it was a lot to take in.

You assumed that whoever was in the house had decided to flee or maybe someone had broken in - not counting yourself - it was a bit much to think about considering the fact that you were tired as hell and just wanted to sleep. You saw some bunched up blankets and pillows on the couch just feet away from what looked like a legitimate crime scene and decided that sleeping would be a terrible idea, but you were so tired that once again your morals were abandoned as you passed out curled on the white couch cuddling up to the blanket.

That morning, you met the man in the porcelain mask.

You watched him with wide eyes and worried yourself with thoughts of him hurting you and the blood puddle from last night flashed like a ‘life before your eyes’ memory as you tried to imagine what this large figure could do to you - not sexually, although those thoughts were close behind. He got close and as much as the mask creeped you out and you prayed you were dreaming, he didn’t turn hostile, instead he just asked for your name in a high pitched child-like voice.

“Y-Y/N. I am so sorry if I intruded - do you live here? I was just getting ready to go if-”

“No. Stay.” Stay?

“I can explain, sir. I was just so tired and the gates were open and I just needed to-” You gripped your head as an ache hit, you couldn’t tell whether or not it was caused by your own rambling or if it was from the confusion of the events you’d witnessed and were witnessing.

The man - who you later found out was named Brahms - explained as little as you’d wanted. A doll and a list of rules, why? Who knows? Definitely not you, he just expected you to roll with it and so you did. You were a little scared of him so you decided to follow the rules if it meant keeping you alive.

Cut to a few weeks down the line. You’re still living in this gothic daydream of a house with a mysterious man who gave you Phantom of the Opera vibes, things were surprisingly going well for you. For example, you weren’t dead and as weird as it sounded, you and Brahms were now a thing.

Was it weird kissing porcelain lips rather than real ones? Yes. Was it weird falling asleep next to that face? Yes. Was it weird how he never took that damn mask off unless your eyes were covered? Yes. But you managed to deal with it.

When you said you wanted a fresh start this isn’t what you had in mind but weren’t really complaining at the same time. At last, you were happy. You always dreamed of living away from everyone in a cottage in the woods where your only responsibility was to bake bread and not worry about anything, and this was just as close as you were gonna get to that - a manor, where your only responsibility was to care for Brahms. He’s so mysterious, it makes you feel something that you couldn’t explain. But as weird and unexplainable as it truly was to you, you were still happy.

However, things started going sour after an incident that occurred after lunch one day. Brahms’ had woken up on the wrong side of the bed and he was constantly throwing tantrums over the smallest things. You’d just finished the dishes and Brahms was sulking around the dining room table shoving at the chairs and kicking the table legs every time he passed one.

You were growing sick of him and threw the dirty rag you were holding onto the counter and squawked at the older man. “Brahms! What is your problem?”

He stopped and looked up at you for a few seconds before a string of apologies fell out of your mouth, as genuine as they were they also seemed so shallow as you watched Brahms’ eyes. You weren’t standing close enough to see any twitches or expression in those eyes, but you did see what looked to be tears. It broke you.

That’s when Brahms started growing distant. Usually he loved being around you and lived and breathed you but now it just feels like the real Brahms is actually dead and haunting you. You thought It’d blow over in a few days - or in Brahms’ case, a few hours - but it didn’t. He continued to just linger like a ghost, you could feel him watching you but he’d never speak a word and if you tried to initiate a conversation with him he’d disappear.

He began spending more time in the walls and his side of the bed was now occupied by nothing, growing cold. His guilt from the other day was eating him alive and you weren’t actually sure if he’d been eating either since the meals you left him in the freezer stayed there. It worried you, but you couldn’t get through to him, which made you even more worried.

---

That night you heard a loud bang come from downstairs and quickly sat up, swinging your legs over your bed and onto the floor you pushed yourself up and ran for the bedroom door. You opened it then stopped before going back in to grab your phone, switching the phone’s light on then making your way downstairs as quickly as you could. Brahms was on the floor, the fridge was open, and the pot of spaghetti you made for dinner was now sprawled across the kitchen floor. Brahms looked up at you and you expected to see shame in his eyes, but they looked dead instead - Not as if he didn’t regret his mistake or that he didn’t care, but he just seemed dead inside.

You knelt down beside him and reached for him but before you could say his name he was up and running for the closest entrance to the walls. “BRAHMS!” You called after him but he didn’t stop, so you ran after him. Being in the walls for the first time was weird but all those feelings felt as if they were miles away while Brahms was racing through your mind even quicker, he seemed to be moving faster as if he were trying to get away from you. You continued calling after him until he turned a corner into his loft and stopped dead in the middle of the room. He didn’t turn to meet your eyes or talk, he just stood there with his back to you looking down at the floor.

You took a few seconds to watch him just in case he was planning on doing something but he didn’t, he just stood there. You tried to step forward and reach for him but your limbs stayed put, so you let out the breath you’d been holding in. “Brahms, please.” Your words were shaky as you tried not to cry. “I told you, I’m sorry for raising my voice at you. I didn’t-”

You stopped when Brahms slowly turned to you - a part of you was relieved that he’d finally stopped ignoring you - and said those three words. “I am damaged.”

Neither of you spoke as you tried to collect your words but you couldn’t find the right words. “What?”

“I am damaged.”

“No you’re not Brahms-”

“YES I AM!” He raised his voice and you took a few steps back, bumping into the wall. “I am a monster.”

You were very confused at this moment, you thought Brahms was mad at you for yelling at him but he was mad at himself? You took a step forward but he took a step back, purposefully trying to keep some distance between the two of you.

“I’m a monster.”

“Brahms you are not a monster. You are not damaged, you’re not bad.” You tried to convince him as he began rummaging through a box on the floor, you began biting down on your thumbnail softly as he picked up what looked to be a news article and shoved it into your chest with a slight bit of force.

You looked down and grabbed the newspaper as he went to let go and you began reading. “I killed her.”

You clicked your tongue as you tried to take in this new information, you were finally starting to realise why he held so much back from you, especially when it came to his past. Letting out a breath you looked up at the man. “This doesn’t change how I feel about you.” You were shocked by the words that came out of your mouth and shocked that you meant everything you’d said. You were standing right next to a murderer and you weren’t scared.

Without warning Brahms ripped off his mask before stepping up to you, just inches away from your face as he screamed “What about this! Huh? I am not who you fucking think I am! I am fucking dam-” He bit his lip and quickly turned around, putting the mask back on and trying to quieten his sobs. “Just go. Before I hurt you, too.” he said in a hushed, calmer voice that you almost didn’t hear.

“No.” Brahms turned to you, he was just as confused as you were. “What else have you done. What else are you hiding from me?” You weren’t angry, still a little upset, but not angry.

“You’ll leave me, just like they all did.”

“Brahms trust me, I’m not going anywhere. I’ve done bad things too.” You let out an awkward laugh in an attempt to try to lighten the mood but it clearly failed as you cleared your throat and tried to act like it didn’t happen. “Please. I just want you to be honest with me.”

He didn’t respond. Instead he took the mask off and wiped away the stray tears before they could fall. Brahms began to dive into his past, from the murder of his childhood friend to the most recent murder that took place the night you arrived. He answered all your questions and watched you, still worried you’d go against your promises and run but you didn’t. You just stood there and listened, you were glad he was finally being honest - in return you told him about your past and even though it wasn’t as gruesome as his he still listened. By the end of that conversation you felt closer to Brahms, it felt like a twisted version of couple’s therapy but it worked. Brahms was still very surprised at the fact that you stayed even after he admitted to his crimes, he felt a bit sympathetic for you even.

That night the two of you fell asleep next to each other, woke up together, ate breakfast together, it was the most inseparable the two of you had been in months. After last night you’d expected a bittersweet ending - you expected to be kicked out, even - but you were only closer to him, the strange man who once wore a mask of porcelain.

This is as good as your life is going to get, and you’re still happy.

[lovelyirony]

@rhodee for you

When Tony had gotten back from Siberia, he hadn’t been able to see anyone for a long time. 

But people had been to see him. 

He wasn’t expecting Rhodey to come and see him for a variety of medically-related reasons, but he was hoping for an email or a phone call, at least a message about Tony being a “dumbass.” 

And then he asked Pepper how Rhodey was doing, and she tenses up. 

Pepper has never been a good liar to Tony, not since they got drunk together for the first time and she told him every single tell she had for lying. They could never hide from each other after that. 

“He’s...knocked out, still.” 

Tony raises his eyebrows. 

“So, he’s not knocked out, something happened to him.” 

“Tony, he...he doesn’t remember.” 

“What, the fall? I wish I couldn’t remember that either, but I’m betting that that’s not what you’re talking about.” 

“He doesn’t remember any of us. He doesn’t remember anything except for his freshman year of college. All of this information is...overwhelming for him.” 

Tony freezes. 

He and Rhodey didn’t live together freshman year. Hell, they didn’t even know each other freshman year. They became sort-of-friends near the beginning of sophomore year, and that meant... 

Oh god.

Rhodey wouldn’t remember three important things: 

1.) He’s bisexual.

2.) He’s an accomplished man who has achieved much in his lifetime and has grown comfortable with himself with years of help.

3.) He married Tony. They’re married. 

For a long time, Rhodey didn’t really want to admit that he liked guys. It wasn’t something he ever talked about, nothing he ever wanted to discuss. He didn’t mind that Tony had an attraction to men, but he always seemed to put himself at a distance when Tony brought someone over for dinner or a study session. 

Rhodey didn’t want to come to terms with it at first. He was very adamant that he would marry a nice girl and settle down, and Tony hadn’t contested it, hadn’t challenged him on it. That could have very well been the situation. 

It wasn’t until the end of sophomore year--into the summer, actually--that Rhodey even wanted to tempt to talk about what attraction would even mean for him. 

They had gotten together senior year, and Tony has a picture framed in their bedroom of Tony dipping Rhodey into a kiss (and dropping him after the picture was taken) after graduation. 

“They had to take off his wedding ring for the surgery, but I wasn’t sure what to tell him. The doctors said to avoid bringing up any information that would surprise them, and I remember that you talked about it once...” 

“Yeah,” Tony says thickly, his chest hurting from more than just a frisbee-toss gone wrong. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s, uh...let’s just transfer him over to the headquarters. I’ll just...I’ll figure something out.” 

He can’t tell Rhodey he has a husband. He can’t. The reaction alone would be terrible, if he’s knowing what he knows. 

-

So he doesn’t. 

Tony welcomes Rhodey into the compound after taking down every single romantic photo, briefing everyone who still lived there that Rhodey had lost his memory, and praying to whoever would listen that Rhodey didn’t find out until he was comfortable with it. 

“I don’t go by Rhodey,” was the first thing off of his lips. Not a hello, not a smile. “I go by Jim.” 

“Right,” Tony says, smiling in that flashy way that Rhodey usually told him to stop, because it creeped him out because he knew what that smile was actually all about. “Jim. Nice to see you back.” 

“I wish I could say the same, but I’m not exactly sure I remember you. Your face looks really familiar, though.” 

“Well, that’s what nearly twenty-five years of knowledge can do to somebody,” Tony says quickly. “Let me show you to your room. Sorry about the lack of decorations, we didn’t really want to overwhelm you with anything.” 

“I’m fine,” Rhodey says, clearly annoyed. “It’s just weird knowing that I’m way fucking older and apparently I graduated college and managed to make something of myself and I can’t remember any of it.” 

“I can’t say I understand, but I can say that it sucks,” Tony says. “But, lucky for you, I kept some of your stuff.” 

“A friend kept my stuff?” Rhodey asks. “Why?” 

“Because I’m annoying and you pretend like you hate me, when I am the best thing that happened to you,” Tony says, smiling. 

He then turns when he can see Rhodey’s--Jim’s--expression turn sour. 

“Ah, anyway,” Tony says hurriedly. “You just...keep stuff sometimes.” 

(He’s not going to mention that it’s because they shared an apartment. Or a house. Or a room. Or, on occasion, a bank account.) 

“Dinner is gonna be at seven, feel free to come down,” Tony says, smile wearing thin. 

- 

Jim doesn’t come down. 

Or he did, but he came down early. 

Because he doesn’t want anything to do with Tony. 

“It’ll just take time,” Pepper tells Tony over the phone. “Give him some space.” 

So Tony does. 

But it’s hard giving your amnesiac husband space when you’ve never done it before, not really. 

Tony has always been around Rhodey, always been invading and crawling into his space, and Rhodey really only complained when Tony’s hands would sneak around his chest when the nights were dark and cold. 

Now they’re at a distance, and Tony doesn’t know how to bring up any facts about their life. 

So far, all Jim’s been doing is catching up on history. 

“We fought Captain America?” he asks, gaping at the article about finding Captain Rogers in an iceberg. “Why?” 

“He likes putting his foot in his mouth a lot.” Tony says. “And both sides have been notoriously bad at keeping their cool.” 

“Oh. So we just...I  fought him? Because I’m just friends with you?” 

“Yeah,” Tony says, quite uncomfortable with the insertion of the word “just” in that sentence. 

“...weird.” 

“The future’s crazy, honey-bear.” 

Jim looks up. 

“Why do you call me that?” 

“Call you what?” 

“Honey-bear. It’s weird.” 

“Inside joke we have,” Tony says, chest tightening. “We thought those couples that have the lovey-dovey nicknames were ridiculous.” 

“Oh. Gross.” 

“Yeah, it is,” Tony says. “But kinda funny. One time you called me ‘sugar-tits’.” 

Jim laughs at that one. 

“Oh god, that’s...rough. What else did I call you?” 

Baby. Honey. Love of my life. Darling. 

“Uh...” Tony says, pretending to think. “I think love-muffin was also an option.” 

Jim throws back his head and laughs. 

“How did we...how did we become friends?” 

“Well, it all started with a dining hall and you trying to steal an entire painting without getting caught, and my valiant rescue...” 

“Why do I get the feeling that that’s not true?” 

“Because it isn’t,” Tony grins. “Just making sure your bullshit-detector is working again. It is. We met because we weren’t supposed to be roommates but they fucked up and the rooms filled up, so you dealt with me as best you could.” 

“Oh,” Jim says. “What do we do for fun?”

Go on date nights. Talk about how stupid we were as kids. Debate who asked out who. Cook together. 

“Uh, we used to...shoot hoops.” 

“You don’t seem like a basketball kinda guy,” Jim says. 

“Oh believe me, I wasn’t,” Tony responds with a laugh, “but you were, and you always liked kicking my ass on the court.” 

“Good to know that I can still probably do that,” Jim says, smug and self-satisfied. “Hey, where did Pepper go?” 

“Oh, she’s busy with a contract this week, what do you need?” 

Jim puts his hand on the back of his neck in that nervous habit he always got (that Tony only knew about because every single time he would walk into the room after he realized he liked him in that way, Rhodey would do that). 

“Um, just want to ask her something. About my life.” 

And Tony can’t breathe. 

He doesn’t know and that’s...that’s everything. 

“She’ll be back for dinner,” Tony says. “In the mean time, I’ll be in the lab working on some stuff, feel free to do whatever.” 

“Thanks, man.” 

- 

Pepper stares at Jim, who for so long has been one of her best friends and is now asking if he had anyone who he was involved with romantically. 

“You...what?” 

“Did I have a girlfriend or anything?” Jim asks. “Because, um, it’s going to kind of suck if I didn’t.” 

“You had a girlfriend sophomore year,” she answers carefully. “That lasted for about three months or something. You’d have to ask Tony more about it, he knows more about you than I do.” 

“And you said we’re...friends? We didn’t date?”

“Yeah, we are friends, no we didn’t date,” Pepper says. “We get lunch on Thursdays if you’re in town.” 

“I’m in the army, right?” 

“About to retire, too,” Pepper says with a grin. “You were really happy, you were planning on taking Tony on a trip.” 

“I was?” Jim asks, frowning. “We’re...that close?” 

“Well yeah, you’re-” Pepper pauses for a moment. “You’re best friends. You always like spending time with Tony.” 

“Oh,” Jim says. “Okay.” 

He knows that they’re lying to him. He gets why: if he learns too much, it could cause some sort of damage. And according to Friday, “Colonel Platypus” (whatever the fuck that means) keeps his personal life intensely private. 

He doesn’t know why he’s done that. Why he’s kept everything so private. It’s not because of his military status, he thinks. Unless, of course, they put him on all sorts of secret projects. That could definitely be a thing. 

Tony keeps almost calling him Rhodey. It’s a weird nickname. He doesn’t know why he apparently loves it. It sounds...stupid. Weird. Jim works just fine. 

Pepper also said they were just friends. And she sounds like she means it. And Tony says they’re just friends, but he doesn’t sound like he means it. 

But that doesn’t mean...? 

No. Of course not. There would be pictures and rings and all of that sappy, gross shit that comes with weddings. 

...would there be? 

“Hey Friday?” he asks. 

“Yes, Colonel Rhodes?” 

“Um. Is gay marriage legal?” 

“Yes, Colonel Rhodes, it is. Would you like further articles about the decision?” 

“Uh...sure. I guess.” 

He keeps reading articles (with reading glasses) and learns a lot about what’s been going on. 

He’s just interested, obviously. In current events. 

- 

It’s a week later when he asks Tony about it. 

“So...did you remember the whole legalization of gay marriage thing?” he asks Tony, who pauses at his coffee. “I, um. Read an article where they said you were bi, so I wasn’t sure if you-” 

“No, I am,” Tony says. “I remember it really well. I celebrated well that day.” 

he grinned as he looked at Rhodey, and swore to rent out the entire metropolitan museum of art, just for him. he would do anything for him, anything at all-

Jim looks at him. 

“What did you do to celebrate?” 

“Well, there were quite a lot of people at gay bars. We danced. I drank a glass of champagne. And then we danced again.” 

“Someone was with me?” 

“You were,” Tony says. “You were here when it happened, and it was...it was a good day for us.” 

“I’m not gay though,” Jim says with a frown. 

“Doesn’t mean that you can’t celebrate,” Tony says, eyes holding something in them that makes him look like he might cry. “Some people’s triumph can be a momentous occasion.” 

It can the occasion where your marriage is finally recognized everywhere. It’s where you get the iconic photo of mashing cake in your partner’s face, and all of the guests are grinning and you’re happy, and--

Tony shakes himself out of that train of thought. 

“Yeah, I guess,” Jim says. “Just...please tell me that you didn’t get any embarrassing pictures.” 

“Oh I did,” Tony replies, grinning maniacally. “Would you like to see yourself in a feather boa or a flamingo floatie?” 

“Oh my god,” Jim moans, throwing his hands to the dinner table. “No...” 

“You looked a dream, gorgeous,” Tony teases. “And I have the pictures to prove it. I’ll get them out another time, I promised Dum-E that I’d help him pick up his mess.” 

“Who is he?” 

Tony grins. 

“He’s our baby, metaphorically speaking. We built him on a half-drunk, half-dare kind of situation,” Tony says. “He’s a disaster.” 

Jim thinks about it for a moment. “Can I...can I meet him?” 

-

Dum-E hasn’t seen his dad in forever. He’s wheeling around Rhodey, beeping and nearly running over his feet. 

“Great, your return has pushed back any build-up coordination training we did,” Tony scolds, although his tone doesn’t sound serious at all. “Dum-E, your father and I agreed to help clean, although methinks that Jim will be a great surveyor for us.” 

“What’d you spill?” Jim asks. 

“Couple of glass stuff,” Tony says. “He’s been really into stained glass recently, I think he was trying to make his own.” 

“He can think?” 

“Yeah,” Tony says. “His coding, by the way, was like sixty percent you. That’s why he’s so damned stubborn and also why he puts motor oil into smoothies, genius.” 

“Hey, that most definitely was you,” Jim says. “You didn’t grocery shop that day, so I was weak and malnourished.” 

Tony stills. 

“You...remember that?” 

Jim pauses for a moment. 

“You...you were supposed to go grocery shopping and I made a list,” he says, smiling fondly. “And you didn’t take the list because you said you had an eidetic memory, but you still forgot the lemons, so I don’t believe you.” 

Tony throws back his head and laughs. 

“Glad to have a memory for you, Rho-Jim. You want a glass of water or anything?” 

“Water sounds fine.” 

Jim watches as Tony works around Dum-E, obviously used to his quirks and mannerisms as he banters and threatens with nothing backing up that threat. 

He smiles as he wheels himself over, grabbing a dust pan on his way over. 

“Figured we’ll need this,” he offers. Tony accepts it with a smile. 

“Thanks Jim.” 

“You can-you can call me Rhodey. If you want.” 

Tony looks at him for a moment. 

“But is that what you want?” 

Jim pauses. 

“Yes. For now.” 

“Okay,” Tony says, smiling. He’s not showing how fucking happy he is, how ready he is to leap for the moon and bring stardust down on his way home. “Thank you.” 

Jim nods. 

“I think I’m gonna turn in for the night.” 

“Have a goodnight, Jim. Let me know if you need anything.” 

-

He lies awake in bed that night. 

“Hey, Friday?” 

“Yes, Boss?” 

“I...I’m not being told everything, am I?” 

“Information can potentially be triggering to the current state you are in, Colonel Rhodes.” 

“Are you being paid to say that?” 

“I don’t get paid,” Friday says. “Although if I did, I would not want to take the money.” 

“So I am missing something,” Rhodey says. “I just...I don’t know what.” 

“It will come with time, Colonel Rhodes.” 

“And if it doesn’t? If I have to relive life all over again?” He asks, growing agitated. “If my memory doesn’t come back, Friday...I’m not sure they’ll ever tell me anything.” 

“It is already a good sign that you remembered Dum-E. He was missing you quite terribly.” 

“Can I...can you show me a picture of me with him?” 

“Sure thing, Boss.” 

- 

Rhodey has a sharp intake of breath. 

Right there. 

Right on his left hand. 

A wedding ring. 

And then he looks at Tony, Tony who is looking fondly as Rhodey and Dum-E are reenacting some stupid thing, and there’s a-

A ring. 

On the left hand. 

That wasn’t there before. 

Shit. 

[commanderserwin]

— week 21 with levi ackerman.

✧ tags. fluff (in the beginning?), angst, bad language, slight nsfw, & descriptions of blood, weapons, and character death 🧍🏻‍♀️

✧ more. zombie apocalypse AU b/c why not?

✧ notes. ‘tis a word vomit and i have no idea why — just me and my small love for zombie movies and aus, so here goes! enjoy !!!

“Stay.”

Levi grumbled at how your arm and leg kept him captive on the bed, his hand finding your thigh— as he rolled his eyes, feeling your lips pepper kisses onto his jaw, and he loved it.

“One minute,” Levi turned his head, capturing your chapped lips onto his, his thumb playing with the waistband of your underwear, as he winked at you.

You laughed onto his shoulder, kissing the spot below his ear as you snuggled closer, closing your eyes as you breathed in the morning, greeting it with minute long cuddle and few kisses that painted your nose and forehead from the man laying beside you.

“Time’s up,” Levi groaned, feeling your hold on him tightening as you refused to let him go.

Levi let you hold on a minute longer again, kissing your temple as he counted to the last ten seconds, with the last as a smack to your thigh while you yelped loudly, a scowl forming on your lips but Levi kissed it away with no fail. He smiled at your morning dilemma, his heart bursting as you followed him behind him, a stomp on your feet as Levi made his way towards the kitchen.

He has always loved making breakfast with and for you and with your grumpy state made it all better. His hands instinctually made its way towards the kettle, flipping the mugs as he made tea and your preferred drink for the day— as he knew it like the back of his hand, and one look at your face. His basis was the frown on your lips, and it all dissolves as the steam from the hot water hits your face in a welcome delight.

“What time do you have to go to work?” You asked, taking a bite of his toast as you passed by him, grabbing a slice of your own.

“In two hours,” he responded, taking your seat as you settled into your office space, a little desk that he has set up for you. “What time do you have to get to work?”

“Now,” you winked, making kissy faces at him as you opened your laptop— ready to start the day facing the screen.

Levi nodded, finishing his breakfast as quietly as he could while you talked to your client— camera off that’s why you twirled around on your chair, watching Levi with teasing eyes. He shook his head, a blush washing on his skin as he caught glimpse of your eyes— but he’s got enough self-control to not fall for them, kissing your forehead as he made his way to the bathroom to start and get ready for his work.

Every morning was like clockwork already— and by the time he has come out of the bathroom, he would see you making a homemade lunch, while you continued to talk, moving your hands animatedly. He settled again on the kitchen table, graciously accepting his second cup of tea from you while the minutes flew by until it was time for him to go.

With a hug and a kiss, you walked Levi to the door, covering the mic from your earphones as you confessed your daily love, leaving the stoic man a blushing mess as he walked out of the door, a paperbag on his hand as he drove to work.

The day went by slowly, his own clients calling him as he watched the hours go by. He checked his phone multiple times, a text from you from hours ago, and he bombarded you as much as he could hide his phone whenever his boss would walk by.

Then something unusual happened— like straight out of a fucking movie.

The tall ceilings didn’t rumble, the streets did. The building has got thick walls and windows, withstanding few rainy days but what it didn’t withstand was the shrilling screams of people running towards each other— out of the cars, out of the building doors, as they watched others with a scream cut short.

“What the fuck,” Levi mumbled to himself, pushing the chair away as his hand fumbled with the phone, his thumb clicking your contact number with a nervous tap. “What the actual fuck?”

No answer.

His coworker bumped into him, cursing them with his eyes as he clicked on the notification— a news article from his phone. He skimmed it, his eyes rereading the words: blood, humans, trial gone wrong, infection, and the infected.

“Are they filming down the street?” Levi asked, holding the shoulders of his colleague, his eyes piercing through them as they stuttered incoherently, but they only pushed Levi away with a tear down their cheek.

His phone vibrated— your caller ID flashing and he fumbled to accept and finally, his mind has come into peace as he heard your voice amidst the chaos down the street. He walked closer to the windows, seeing flashes of dark liquid that he refuses to acknowledge that was blood.

Levi listened to shrill screams on your phone, and color drained from his face as it all sounded the same. It was noisy, it was full of screaming— agony until the last second that it lasted. He couldn’t help but worry about you, his hands fumbling with anything to keep him grounded. He clutched his phone tighter as usual, hearing your voice and never wanting to let go of it, of you.

“Levi, where are you?” You asked, double-locking the car as people rammed into your car, but you held on to the phone with such urgency as you listened to the other line. “Are you safe?”

“What do you mean, ‘Am I safe?’” Levi walked towards his cubicle, turning his monitor on as his office turned into its own secluded chaos, “I’m at work. Where are you?”

“Going home, I went to grab some groceries,” you answered, ducking your head below as you made use of the tint on the car windows.

Some elderly man slammed on to your trunk, making the car shake as cars honked loudly.

“I thought you had work? It’s only been a few hours.”

“My client rescheduled their telerehab. So I went to the store.”

“Okay,” Levi nodded, breathing through his nose, “Okay, listen.”

“Do you know what’s happening?”

“Did you lock the doors?” Levi asked, avoiding your question.

“Yes, I always lock the door.”

“And how far away from you from the apartment?”

“Ten minutes.”

“You have to walk.”

“I’m not walking!” You gasped, looking at the backseat where a couple of grocery bags were sitting, “And I’m not leaving the car!”

“Darling-,”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?” Levi raised his head, his eyes almost bulging from the updated news articles— and he really couldn’t believe his eyes.

The human trial from the nearby city had an outbreak. Their subjects resorting to death, but undead— zombified beings as infected blood ran through its course in their own bloodstream, affecting their brain and nervous system— paralyzed yet moving. Things— humans that doesn’t make sense.

Fucking zombies.

“You only call me darling when you are nervous.”

Levi arched his brow, breathing hard as he shut his monitor off. He looked down again, the streets covered in blood and bodies— and he backed away, the color from his already pale skin draining as he looked at the traffic block. It was going to take him an hour to usually get home— but with this mess, he has no idea if he could get there in a hour.

He wanted to go home.

“All right,” Levi breathed, his hold tightening on the phone, finally coming into terms with the movie-like situation. “Drive home. Carry whatever you think you will need inside the apartment. Grab the toolbox from the trunk. Get the food— anything essential inside.”

“You’re making me nervous,” you whispered, driving carefully away from the crowd as you took the longer route just to get home, “This whole thing is making me nervous.”

“Me too,” Levi murmured, grabbing his things from his cubicle as he grabbed whatever he could find that would be useful. “Don’t forget to lock the doors, do you hear me?”

“Lock the doors,” you repeated, driving a little faster as the roads were clear of any slosh of liquid and less bodies.

One mistake that you have done was stopping— the car coming into a halt as you watched the scene before you.

It was a little girl, her mouth dripping with her blood and mixed with whoever was dead on her hands. Her eyes were red, every vein dark underneath her dark skin, and stared right at your very being. With delicate steps, she moved closer, and you moved the car in reverse. But when she stood by your window, she slammed her hand on it, marking your window with her tiny hand.

Her handprint marked blood all over your car window— and you eyed at her victim. Perhaps her mother, as you guessed from the matching shirt. Her mother twitched— heavy and dark blood gushing out of her neck. She should’ve been dead, and should’ve stayed dead— but her fingers moved little by little, until she stayed upright, her eyes drilling into yours.

Every fiber of your body turned into dust, as you screamed, biting down on your hand as the little girl screamed with you, clawing her hand— but she couldn’t.

“What the fuck is happening?” Levi asked on the other line, his voice muffled as you dropped your phone. “Hey! Hey!”

“She was dead!” You screamed into the phone, gripping the steering wheel until your knuckles turned white, “She was dead and... she! There was blood everywhere... how is she alive?”

“Get out of there, darling,” Levi seethed at the situation, clenching his eyes shut as he focused on your voice, “Go!”

Finally, you gassed it, accelerating— feeling the car bump as you drove over the body, while you sweat for your very life. You placed the phone on loudspeaker, finding hope and solace through the curses of your significant other, focusing on his voice as it always calms you down. You counted his curses, finding a smile on your face and his new record of fifty bad words in a matter of minutes.

“Are you near the apartment?”

You nodded— agreeing a second later as the parking opened for you, and you held the phone near to your ear hoping it would close the distance between the two of you.

You wanted him home.

“I'm home already, get here now.”

“Good,” Levi ran down the stairs, towards the garage. He spotted his car, jumping on it instantly, “Wait for me.”

“Come home,” you sobbed, fumbling with the house keys as you opened the door— finding power to carry all the things in one go. “I love you. You have to come home, okay?”

“I love you,” Levi kissed you through the phone, an edge of a smile forming on his mouth as you chuckled-sobbed, “Don’t cry. Don’t go out, I’ll be home in a while.”

That was the last thing Levi has said to you.

His voice echoing in your memory, distant and near as you waited, and waited.

He didn’t make it home that day, and you waited for hours, until the suns changed and the moon waved for a new awful morning as screams made its way towards the quiet apartment. The moment that you hit home, you charged your phone, anything that will be used to communicate, even scrounging for Levi’s radio that he insisted on keeping, and with the mention of your beloved, your body shook in sobs as you tried to reattach yourself from what was happening as you waited for him. 

You should have contacted him every minute and every hour— asking where the hell he is, but the mocking message of an unattended phone sang into your ears. Until all signal towers came down— no phone, no lines, no television, nothings. And all you could do was fucking wait, and you have waited too long that food has been stale for a while— days, weeks, months and you closed off from everybody. Yet, you didn’t move. The sofa has become your bed, a hand on the hilt of a knife as the other clutched the pillow while you slept in a shallow slumber— dreaming of when he would be home and what people have become.

The door and the carpet tainted red, your blood mixed with whoever tried to pried your door open. The handle was broken, and you repaired it as best as you could with Levi’s commanding voice echoing in your head.

Everything revolved around Levi— and you still wonder where he was.

Days, weeks, and months since he made that promise, and as each day goes by— it becomes ruined and broken, your life breaking down slowly as hope washed itself away, leaving you alone with nothing but a wish for him to still be there. 

Another wish to whatever innocence is left within you and him.

The walkie-talkie became your friend— going on and off as you tried to catch a glimpse of whatever or whoever would be there to answer call, but nobody responded to the static buzz.

“I’m running out of water,” you coughed, counting ten small water bottles.

You were running out of everything as the long months drained your supplies.

And so you made a promise to yourself— get out of the apartment, find more food and water, and look for him.

If he couldn’t find his way to you— maybe it was best to find him yourself.

Week One: you started from scratch as you left the apartment. What you had was Levi’s large backpack which contained all your food, and water, a few pair of underwear and clothes, your dead phone, a wrench and a knife, and the walkie-talkie.

Week Two: you stayed in the car, a bad fucking move as an infected person broke your windshield, as they heard you crying. You ran them over— and it that makes them your second death.

Week Three: you saw an empty deli store. You went in— further and further into the back but the door opened and came a big dead man running but you placed a wrench on their big dead head.

Week Four: you were farther from the city. The signs becoming a maze to understand, words illegible as it was covered in blood.

Week Five: you passed by where Levi was working by. The car stopped, sputtering its last gas as you bid goodbye— but seeing Levi’s car, abandoned. With a heavy hand, you destroyed the window, seeing the keys stuck into the ignition as Levi’s briefcase collected dust on the backseat. There was no sign of him, as you left a note and a few tears as you broke down— biting down on your hand because you had to mourn in silence.

Week Six: you carried Levi’s briefcase for a week, but you left it as it became too heavy for you to carry. The only thing that you kept was the little pin on his briefcase— the one that he says that reminds him of you.

Week Seven: your shoes broke down, and comes your fourth death.

Week Eight: fifth death.

Week Nine: the winds grew a little colder, and you find shelter inside a car, the smell rotted as you later found a hand on the backseat.

Week Ten: you were tired, and comes the sixth victim.

Week Eleven: your mind was fucking with you, and you brushed it away.

Week Eleven: it was a dream— and that was the result of sleeping in a stupid store where mirrors all perfectly stood, every glimpse a fucking joke. A sick joke that is— because the mirrors reflected him.

Week Eleven: Levi’s here.

Levi crushed you into a hug, his hair somewhat long yet his face stayed smooth— a few mentions of stubble but it was him. His body felt so familiar that you found yourself curling for his warmth, for the security, for the home that he was.

Levi thought, he’s finally home. He’s found you.

Nobody spoke for a few minutes— unbelieving of what was happening. If you were alive. If he was alive. If that was you. If that was really him. The only thing that was said in those minutes were tears and quivering chins as Levi fumbled with his fingers— holding on to you as you pulled him close.

“Are you going to eat me?” You quietly asked, cupping his cheeks, as you checked his grounding eyes for any evident him.

“Stop with that,” Levi kissed your cheek, hugging you tight again.

His kiss felt like the sweet drops of wine, color finding its way towards the dark hues, as you leaned on his touch— tired yet there. The feelings that blossomed on your chest was huge, almost drowning you again into your sorrows but Levi pulled you back again, and it brought you to tears.

“I waited!” You suddenly cried, curling your knees to your chest as you felt Levi’s arms anchor you to reality, “I waited, Levi! You told me... you told me to wait and that you were coming home.”

“I know,” Levi breathed, cradling your head as you drove him to tears— making him shudder in regret and anger, but it all turned to smoke because you were there and so was he.

But everything felt flat— the hues darkening once more. Tough love— survival at the cost of one’s innocence, but it was there. Levi brought your face to his eyes as he looked for you somewhere deep within the months that you were alone and scared.

And you were still there, fleeting but there.

Love stayed the same while hope tarnished.

Joy pooled at your eyes— the very ones that he would look into, from the moment he would wake up in your bed with the light brushing your skin, and as he closed his eyes, a smile gracing your lips as the day ended. Fleeting but there.

Levi held your hand, carrying the bag as he guided you to his secured spot. He looked back and forth, breathing a little easier as he locked the doors behind him. It was a small family mart, aisles and racks empty with crusting blood and shredded skin, but safe.

In the morning, he woke up with your arms around him— just before. Just like that morning. His lips turned to yours as your very habit stayed the same, your voice carrying himself to agree with nothing but a kiss again on your lips. Levi found himself wrapping his leg around you, flushing you on his chest as he peppered kisses on to your nape while you chuckled softly— prying his arms.

“One minute,” Levi kissed your ear, nuzzling his cheek against your shoulder as you turned around in his embrace.

His grey eyes comforted you, carrying a hint of love and life while you allowed yourself to be hugged, relishing the way he feels after almost a year of him being gone and found again.

A year of it— and nobody spoke about what actually happened that night.

Infected. Infectious diseas. Blood. A human trial gone wrong.

Zombies— like the goddamn movies.

“Will you make me toast,” you whispered, asking him as you placed a hand over his chest— holding on to him and the memory of when it was good, like it was now.

“I believe what I only have are crackers,” Levi whispered in your ear, kissing your nose as your eyes fluttered open once more— and he took you in.

By the way your hair turned greasy, by the way the clothes on your back became ripped and drenched in dried blood, by the way your chapped morning lips stayed the same, by the way your face still contorts into his favorite smile.

“Has my darling turned cheap?”

“God.” Levi rolled his eyes, kissing your cheek numerous times as he finally caught on your dislike for the pet name.

“Now you understand how I feel when you call me darling?” You laughed, placing as much distance as Levi attacked you with tickles and kisses, his shoulders shaking in laughter as he breathily agreed.

Then, he stopped.

Bodies still tangled with each other— and you listened. Nothing was walking by the store, no slosh of liquid echoed into the empty street.

“Listen.” Levi murmured on your lips, his eyes closing as you saw him through the corners of your eyes— and you closed your eyes too, “Listen. This is my favorite part of my morning.”

After a few still minutes, your face lit up in tears, “Birds.”

“Don’t they sound beautiful?”

You opened your eyes to see him staring right at you, his eyes tired yet happy. Levi pushed away your tears, pecking your forehead.

That was the only time that you’ve realized that the tree beside your apartment housed a nest that Levi always prepared worms by the windowsill and that the birds always woke the both of you.

A new start— but this time after a broken heart, you were glad to start the day again with him.

Week Twelve: he always held your hand whenever the both of you would walk. His hand clutched yours that you even complained that it was too tight— but Levi would only kiss your palm and would loosen it.

Week Thirteen: Levi found an empty bodega, making the makeshift beds again, and he held you through the night as you cried, telling him the victims you have killed. That week marked your seventh kill.

Week Fourteen: he was drenched in blood because doesn’t want you to add another one to your list. Levi killed three instantly, and when you asked him how many has he killed, his eyes turned lifeless for a second, until he whispered— “Let’s not talk about it.”

Week Fifteen: you practiced with Levi as he gave you more effective tips to efficiently mark for the kill. He disagreed first, but he confessed later on that he was sick of it.

“I don’t want to kill one more,” he whispered into the dark as both of you listened to the loose footsteps outsides— daunting to add one more. Just one more. His hand found yours in the dark, turning his head to you as he pulled you to his side of the makeshift bed, whispering once more.

“I’ll take care of it,” and you marked the dead teenager as your eighth.

Week Sixteen: Levi found some tester bottles of perfume on clothes store— surprising you as it was the one that sits on your dresser, making you bawl into your hands as the scent brought back too many memories. He sprayed some on to his skin, making you even cry but he kissed your tears away— his eyes later turning into a shade darker.

His mouth found yours into a fervor that night, silent moans and groans echoing in the same bodega as Levi made love to you— and you him under the gaze of the daring moonlight, bodies moving slowly and sensual, hands finding each other, lips swollen as Levi kept you quiet with his own.

“Levi,” you moaned, feeling the coils of your stomach tighten— hips hitting together as his thrusts became lazy, his thumb finding your folds while you squealed.

“Be quiet,” Levi grunted against your mouth, his tongue grazing your lower lip as he held your hips down, watching you with hooded eyes with the way your back arch— face nodding.

“Fuck—,” you breathed, running your nails on his back as his thumb found your clit, driving you to oblivion as he felt your walls flutter around him. “Fu— Levi-,”

He lost himself, thrusting harder and deeper, listening to the lewd sloppy sounds as he felt your slick cover his length, groaning as your walls fluttered again— as his breathy voice moaned your name over and over again like a song that he would gladly sing over and over again.

Week Seventeen: Levi plucked a grass from in between the cracks of the sidewalk as he gave it to you. In return, you surprised him with a loose tea bag with lukewarm water and he accepted it happier than ever.

“I love you,” Levi murmured, cupping the thermos, bringing his lips to the edge for the first drink of his year that was made by you.

“Me or the tea?” You asked, munching on breakfast as you tilted your head to your partner with a teasing smile on your face. 

Levi answered your question with an attack of kisses on your cheeks and neck— making you giggle until he held you steady with his hands on your waist, eyes closed as he rested his forehead against yours. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” you whispered back, wrapping your arms around him, breathing him in as he snuggled into the crook of your neck— your shirt becoming wet from each other’s tears.

Week Eighteen: you cut Levi’s hair, using a broken razor as he listed his instructions with his wavering voice as he looked right at you through the mirror. Levi admitted that it was the best haircut he has ever gotten, even when his bangs were choppy.

In return to find another space, comes your ninth.

Levi hesitated as the undead little girl that you saw from the day slowly walked over to him with a sinister smile. She marked as your tenth, and you mumbled a little prayer for the mother and the daughter that you have killed before and now.

In the evening, he held you close and dear, your shirt turning wet as he angrily cried but you only shushed him gently— “I’ll take care of it always.”

Week Nineteen: he turned to you in his sleep, fluttering his eyes open as you groggily reached for him. You kissed the sleep back on to him, giggling through the kisses as he tried to capture your lips with a failed mission.

On the last day, marks your eleventh kill.

Week Twenty: it was another sick fucking joke.

“Give me a minute.”

“Go.”

“Give me a fucking minute!”

Levi closed his mouth as his chest heaved heavily, his hands wrapping around his leg, unsuccessfully stopping the gush of blood that painted his skin and clothes dark red— and yet in whatever pain that he was in, he gave you a minute.

He has always given you a minute, spare— lots of it, but now he can’t risk it.

Not one spare second because he wouldn’t be able to control himself.

Levi watched you with careful eyes as you murmured to yourself, eyes closed as tears fell angrily at the corners of your eyes. He looked away, his eyes straining at the pain, and when he finally opened his eyes— he saw you looking straight at him with bright and hopeful eyes.

“We could... we could,” you stuttered, hands pressing into his wound to stop his breathing as Levi nodded, listening, “the best thing that we could do is cut your leg off.”

“It’s already in my bloodstream,” Levi whispered, the blood never stopped flowing no matter the pressure.

“You don’t know that,” you smiled— cried, wiping away your tears.

Levi shook his head. He breathed hard, inhaling and exhaling at the way his body turned into something sinister, watching his veins darken under his pale skin, but weakly pulled his sleeves down, as you watched closely. Your eyes were still filled with innocence— and after everything that you have been through, he wanted to preserve an ounce of it, for himself and for you.

That’s why you needed to go.

“Please,” Levi sighed, closing his eyes as he counted in his mind. Perhaps in a few seconds, the blood vessels in his eyes would pop, his sclera gone dark, “Please.”

The feeling of his warm hand covered yours and you pushed away the thoughts that came next as he heaved, controlling the minimal thrashing of his body. Levi nudged your chin, holding it form as he opened his eyes— and you tried to focus on how it looked like before.

Grey and nice, warm and soft, everything that you have loved, everything that he said, everything that was him— Levi.

“I want you to stand up,” Levi coughed, leaning on to the wall as you helped him. His hand found his spare gun and knife, as he pushed them to you gently. “I want you to get up. I want you to go.”

“You’re asking me the impossible,” you whispered, hand loosening from his wound as Levi blinked, his breath staggering.

“But it is for the best.”

“I can’t lose you,” you breathed, cupping his cheeks as you wiped away the tears— the blood that ran through his beautiful face. “Not again.”

“I know.”

Levi smiled, wiping his hand on his pants to clean them— as he ran his knuckles on the apple of your cheeks, one last time. He soothed the furrow between your brows, he cupped your cheek, making you lean for his touch as you kissed the inside of his wrist, murmuring against his touch.

“I can’t lose you.” You whispered, looking at his wound. 

He pushed you to the wall at the moment it happened— the infected person crawling quietly as it sunk its teeth on Levi’s leg, making him topple over but he killed it in a second— all to save you.

“Levi, I can’t lose you,” you repeated quietly, chest shaking as tears clouded your eyes, “Not again!”

He screamed from the agony, his chest constricting whatever air was left in his body, holding himself close as he bit down on his hand as it washed through him. He pushed his weapons to you hard, making you stumble over as he watched your figure crawl away from him, inch by inch— and the hunger inside him fought its way towards his mind as he longed for the flesh and blood that rests perfectly on your body.

Yet, one thing stays the same.

His lips turned blue, as you watched him carefully, his mouth turning— whispering his very words that would make your heart skip a beat, be the reason for the unending adoration and devotion between the two of you.

“I love you,” Levi mouthed, his hands aimless around his body— no longer fighting whatever was inside him.

“I love you,” you cried, the tears falling freely as you found yourself standing to the other wall, feeling the cold cement hit your skin as your fingers fumbled with the gun and knife.

For whatever cruel reason, life has beaten the air out of you, your mind escaping its own as you chose— suffocating you, strangling the love out of you as you pocketed the knife.

Your whole body shook quietly— crying silently. The chest-heaving kind, where everything made it so fucking difficult for you to breathe, when you didn’t want anybody to know that you were bawling your eyes out, hands almost scarred from how hard you bit it down. Betrayal for the one that you truly love ran straight to your core— as you chose.

Levi smiled as his eyes became red— proud of how steady your arms were as you raised the gun— just like how he taught you. With the last ounce of life in his body, he professed his love for you one last time, and the farewell that mourned for himself, his fate, and for you. His memories clouded into colors that he hasn’t seen before, mundane things and memories with you, the way your lips would turn up at the sight of him, the way your eyes would convey such a deep message— deepest as the ocean as he would always compare.

He felt the air become static in his skin, feel his heart stop, feel everything stop. His eyes opened, seeing the hesitation in your hands but he has to do this, and he pushed you to save you. He saw his life with you— and he has to say goodbye one last time. Levi used whatever he could muster, as he whispered, hearing the shot echo in the cold room.

“Stay away.”

[hermannsthumb]

If you’re still doing summer prompts, could you do graduation for newmann?

15. Graduation

from (the very old) summer prompts meme here

enjoy some awkward pre-canon jaeger academy ~ROOMMATES~!! also I am pretty sure this message/prompt is from at least a year ago (if not TWO) but it was only today that I really thought about what I wanted to write for it and wrote in like a FRENZY. content warning for alcohol (no like intoxication tho)

--------

It was hardly to be expected that Newton would be mature over the whole thing, but Hermann finds himself in a perpetual state of agitation the final weeks of their enrollment at the Jaeger Academy anyway. Newton was very young, Hermann knows, when he graduated from university (at least he was young the first time he graduated), and he can only assume the man took it rather hard that he didn’t get to have the proper send-off he thought he deserved—all-night parties with kegerators and beer pong, one-dollar shots at dive bars, trips to the seaside with classmates. One wasn’t likely to invite someone who’d barely breached his teens and still had braces to those sorts of things, after all. It’s the only reason Hermann can think of as to why Newton has spent the month—the whole month—popping open champagne at all hours and organizing spin-the-bottle in the base rec room and generally being a great bloody nuisance to everyone they have the misfortune of sharing their graduating class with. Over-compensation is what it is.

Having Newton as his bunkmate adds a special level of unbearableness to it all. At least—and Hermann does thank the stars above for this—tomorrow marks the end of a very miserable month. A very miserable two years.

“Everyone is going to be there,” Newton says. He’s wearing an oversized pair of neon sunglasses over his regular glasses, for some reason, those abhorrently dated kind with the slatted lenses, and dangling from his left hand are two bottles of pink champagne. A bag of plastic cups dangles in the other. “Everyone. Not even just the k-scientists—the techs, the ranger trainees, the—”

“That all sounds very thrilling,” Hermann says, hefting a stack of button-ups into a cardboard box he’s labeled Clothing – Gottlieb. “You’re aware, I assume, that we’re meant to be moving out tomorrow, and you’ve not touched anything on your side of the room?”

“Dude, I have sooo much time,” Newton says. Hermann realizes now the seal on one of the champagne bottles is broken—which might explain some of Newton’s suspiciously carefree mood. “Besides, I barely even have that much shit here.”

This is patently untrue. Newton’s clothing is overflowing from his dresser; manga and monster action figures and vinyl records clutter up every inch of its top surface; there’s laundry under his bed, on his bed, his guitar picks on Hermann’s bedside table, dirty mugs on his own, half-finished reports and articles scattered over his desk… “Fine,” Hermann says. “But I haven’t finished, at any rate, so I won’t be joining you.”

Newton flops down next to him on his bed; the stopper on the opened champagne bottle wobbles dangerously, and Hermann moves quickly to push it in more firmly so he doesn’t have to add a load of bed linens to his To-Do list. “I think you need to unwind, roomie,” Newton says, grinning up at him. Both pairs of his glasses have slipped off his nose and onto Hermann’s bedspread. “We’ll have all day tomorrow after the dumb ceremony to pack, and you haven’t taken a break in, like, seven years. You’ve earned one.”

Hermann doesn’t want to take a break, or at least not in the way Newton is suggesting. Hermann wants to finish packing up his half of the room, then his designated workspace in the large k-science laboratory, and then take a shower to wash himself of the experience of being Newton Geiszler’s roommate and labmate for two years too many. Noticing his reticence, Newton adds, pleadingly, “Come for one hour? Just to do two shots with me? One shot?” He blinks, half-blind without his glasses, as if trying to discern whether or not Hermann looks likely to give in. “No shots? C’mon, Hermann, you owe me.”

“Owe you?” Hermann says, frowning.

Newton nudges him with the stack of plastic cups. “Y’know—for the sake of your ol’ penpal,” he says.

The reference to their letter-writing days jars Hermann, and despite his best efforts not to show it to Newton, his hand trembles as he deposits an unopened pack of white socks into his laundry box. He thinks it may be the first time either of them have brought it up in the entirety of their time at the Academy. It’s certainly the first time either of them have admitted to even the slightest notion of a shared history since—a week into their first year here, at an ice-breaking event for their kaiju-science peers—Newton had rolled his eyes exaggeratedly when someone attempted to introduce him to Hermann and said “Yeah, Dr. Gottlieb and I go wayyyy back.” Hermann did not admit so at the time, but the use of the honorific in place of his first name had been unexpectedly wounding—ridiculous of him, considering he made a point of referring to Newton in precisely the same way. Perhaps that little slip of the tongue had been why they were assigned as roommates scarcely a week later. An assumed friendship.

Hermann picks up Newton’s thick eyeglasses and carefully slips them back onto Newton’s upside-down face. Newton wrinkles his nose when Hermann’s thumb accidentally brushes against its tip. “I just don’t like parties very much, Newton,” he says. He’s not sure when Dr. Geiszler became Newton to him, or rather, became Newton to him again.

“Then we can do something together here,” Newton says.

He sits up and pushes the sealed champagne bottle at Hermann’s chest. “This is for you, anyway. Graduation present. Bury the hatchet, you know—odds are pretty fucking high we’re never gonna see each other again, so there’s no use hating each other forever.”

In spite of his better judgement, Hermann takes the champagne bottle. One drink won’t hurt him. And anyway, it might be a little relaxing—so long as it’s one drink only, because he still has an entire two years’ worth of research to pack away in his laboratory desk. “Do you know where you’re being assigned already, then?” he says. He was under the impression they wouldn’t find out until after the ceremony tomorrow—bit last minute, he supposes, but it’s not as if they’re making their own travel arrangements, and nearly all of their colleagues have already brought their families along with them to the Academy base.

“Nah,” Newton says, “but I wrote down a lot on my request form.” He motions for Hermann to hand him back the bottle, and he begins unscrewing the wire holding down the cork. “Tokyo—Peru—" He moves the bottle away from the bed as he pops it open with a grunt of effort, and a small bit of foam spills to the cement floor. Hermann grits his teeth and tries not to worry about cleaning it up later. “—Los Angeles. I worked on one of my PhDs in California, you know, a few weeks one July. Sea sponges. I learned how to scuba dive, I loved it—I think that’s one of the first things I’m gonna do if—once this is all over.”

He looks strangely maudlin as Hermann pours himself some champagne into one of the plastic cups and suffers through a sip. Too sweet. Hermann’s never liked sweet wines—bloody awful hangovers the next day, if one isn’t careful.

“Their entire ecosystem would be destroyed now, I guess,” Newton says. “Kaiju blue poisoning.”

“Whose?” Hermann says.

“The sea sponges’,” Newton says.

Hermann sips more of the champagne so he won’t have to respond. “I requested Anchorage,” he offers. Among plenty others, but he knows Newton will get a kick out of ribbing him for the dreary Alaskan climate. It seems to work—Newton lights up at once with a loud snort.

“Of course you did, ya weirdo,” he says. “Have fun freezing your ass off.” He takes a sip right from his bottle, then holds it out to Hermann. “Well, Hermann—you were an annoying lab partner, an even more annoying roommate, but a decent penpal, and I’m—well, I’m not gonna miss you, but I guess I can’t say I hate everything about you. Good luck with the jaegers. Good luck to whoever gets stuck with you next, actually, yikes, don’t envy them! Here’s to never seeing each other again.”

Hermann rolls his eyes, but knocks his plastic cup against Newton’s bottle. “Best of luck to you, as well,” he says. “And here’s to—well, surviving.”

“That’s cheerful,” Newton says.

They drink to their toast. Down the hall, someone puts on loud music to a chorus of equally loud cheers. Hermann reckons that’ll be Newton’s party. “You ought to head over there,” he says, turning briefly to glance at their door, which Newton has left cracked open. “Otherwise, they’ll miss—”

Newton kisses him.

Hermann doesn’t necessarily kiss back, but he doesn’t push Newton away, either. He’s more bewildered than anything. He might’ve expected this sort of thing to happen years ago—years, and years ago, before that dreadful first meeting in some dingy little Berlin coffee shop, back when a new letter from Dr. Geiszler slipped through his mail slot could make his heart thud like nothing else—but they’ve hardly been anything to each other but colleagues these past two years. Not even quite colleagues—that implies a civility they don’t possess. Professional academic rivals. He was under the impression that the man hated him, that the data when they underwent standard tests for drift compatibility was merely a fluke.

His empty cup falls from his hand and clatters to the floor. Newton slides a hand up Hermann’s jaw and keeps kissing him; he makes a small, needy noise into Hermann’s mouth.

“Newton,” Hermann finally mumbles. “What are you doing?”

Newton pulls back. A brilliant red flush is creeping steadily across his face, and he opens and closes his mouth a few times before anything comes out. “Oh, shit,” he says. “I didn’t mean—”

He stumbles to his feet. “Shit, dude, I’m sorry, I like—”

“Newton?” Hermann repeats. He feels about as dazed as Newton looks; he’s not quite sure what he’s meant to say. His lips are tingling from the kiss. “I—?”

“I’m gonna go to the party,” Newton stammers. “Sorry, dude, I—misread signals? I guess? Um—” He steps on Hermann’s forgotten cup and skids slightly, catching and righting himself on one of Hermann’s bed posts. The movement knocks Hermann’s cane (hooked there) to the floor, and Newton must bend down twice before he succeeds in picking it up. “Just—um—okay, bye.”

Hermann stares at the door for a long time after Newton leaves. Tomorrow marks the end of their two years cohabitating and working together—as Newton said, odds are high their paths will never cross again. Hermann had been counting down the days to their graduation in a little calendar he keeps pinned neatly to his wall, daydreaming endlessly of the first thing he would do once he was free from the suffocating cloud of Newton Geiszler’s presence—daydreaming of the like-minded non-Geiszlerian colleagues he would meet at his Shatterdome assignment, of a neat and orderly laboratory devoid of kaiju residue over every communal surface, of his own living quarters. He should be excited. He should be ecstatic.

Hermann touches his mouth and feels nothing but strange sort of hollowness in his chest—a black hole enveloping all else.

---

He doesn’t see Newton until their graduation ceremony the next day, an affair made all the more awkward by the seating chart’s alphabetical arrangement ensuring Drs. Geiszler and Gottlieb will be knocking elbows for the full two hours. Newton is late by nearly twenty minutes, and rushes in with badly unkempt hair and a backwards tie: Hermann has a feeling he’d been lurking outside their quarters and waiting for Hermann to leave before he dared dart in to get himself ready. He wonders where Newton spent the night. He wonders why he even cares. Likely passed out on the rec room floor after the party, judging from the confetti stuck to his left cheek—or perhaps he’d finally made a move on the fellow kaiju-biologist Hermann recalls him extolling the physicality of on more than one occasion, and spent the night with him—or perhaps he did neither, and merely wandered the base for hours, sleep evading him as it’d so entirely evaded Hermann. They don’t acknowledge each other for the whole of the ceremony.

Hermann is summoned to the office of the jaeger science program head (a severe woman with short hair) later that evening, shortly after he finishes taping up his very last box of papers in the vacant laboratory. He’s handed a small manila folder containing the details of his Shatterdome assignment: Hong Kong, as it turns out. One of his requests. “Since you and Dr. Newton Geiszler have displayed a strong work ethic when partnered together,” the woman begins, “as well as a very high level of drift compatibility—”

Hermann’s eyes snap up from his folder to her face.

“—we’ll be assigning him to Hong Kong’s kaiju science division along with you, under the assumption that together you will only continue to produce positive results.”

“Pardon?” Hermann says, weakly.

Newton has finished boxing up a majority of his belongings when Hermann drags himself through the door to their quarters an hour later. He glances at Hermann briefly, embarrassedly, and says, in a small voice, “Hey, Hermann.”

“Newton,” Hermann says.

He walks over and sits down heavily atop the pile of sheets on his stripped bed. Something pokes at his thigh, and he sets aside his cane to fumble through the sheet bundle to discover what: Newton’s forgotten neon shuttered shades. The sight of them sends his stomach twisting up in knots. “Oh, hey,” Newton says, as he wraps a Godzilla action figure with bubble wrap. He nods at the manila envelope clenched between Hermann’s fingers. “Where are they shipping you off to? I’m going to Hong Kong—should be cool. I’ve never been before.” He places the little Godzilla in a carboard box. Newt - Junk! the side says in purple Sharpie. “My flight leaves tomorrow afternoon—you’re right, I definitely should’ve started packing earlier, I have no idea how I’m gonna get this all done by then.”

Hermann stares at Newton in poorly-concealed amazement as he continues to ramble on about how to pack up his instruments and whether or not they’ll let him bring his first-ever kaiju sample with him (he’s attached to it, even though he knows it’s technically the academy’s property, but maybe he can find a way to smuggle it out in his checked bags or something). Does he not know? Did they not tell him? How could they let this fall on Hermann? “Newton,” he says, slowly. “I’ve been assigned to Hong Kong, too.”

Newton freezes. “No fucking way,” he says.

[wendystales]

Memories - lrh (Chapter Six)

Memories (also on Wattpad)

Chapter Five ※※※※※ Chapter Seven

“Problems in the fairy world: After almost two years, Luke Hemmings and Marnie McGonagall break up”

“The lovely couple of 2020, the model Marnie McGonagall and the singer Luke Hemmings, break up after almost two years of relationship”

“Shaken structure : After an accident and amnesia, Marnie McGonagall and Luke Hemmings puts an end to the relationship for a year and a half ”

After a week in peace and serenity, or something like that, my second one started with the internet breaking at the end of my relationship with Luke.

All the tabloids, renowned newspaper sites, gossip sites. All social networks. All radio stations. Everyone was commenting on.

All articles were based on “someone close to the couple”. Who? I have no idea, since after a slight spurt of distrust, I realized that none of my friends would do that. According to Noah, this was just the media playing, hoping to see if Luke or I would take the bait.

With my good leg beating at a fast pace, signaling my nervousness, I keep staring at the TV in silence, while Noah paces behind me, trying to control everything. The doorbell rings and I watch him go to answer. When Luke comes into view, I get up quickly and walk over to him, hugging him.

I close my eyes, feeling safer. I don't know how to deal with half the Los Angeles media behind me for a statement, or expecting a slip-up to attack me. I release all the air trapped in my lungs, in no hurry to break that hug.

“Are you okay?” he whispers and I just shake my head as if it was okay, or something close to it. “Great, that's what matters.” he leaves a kiss on my shoulder, before letting go and greeting Noah right.

“What's the order?” I see my friend question.

“The usual. They don't want me to say anything, but I won't be quiet while they attack her. I never stayed and it is not now that I will.” Luke replies, decided.

“Are they attacking me?” I ask approaching the two, who look at me without knowing what to say.

Since the headlines came out, Noah planted a lookout here at home, because he is the one who woke me up, and since then he hasn't let me see anything, just the TV and the mute yet. I knew he was protecting me, but I didn't know what.

The two look at each other and Luke approaches me again, sitting on the couch. As he tries to find a million ways to start, I interrupt him.

“Why do I feel like we already had this conversation?” I ask suspiciously.

“Because we already did, before we tell the media.” he scratches the back of his neck.

Once again, before he starts, Noah's cell phone rings and he leaves, leaving us alone.

“So?” I incentive to continue.

“There are a group of people, who like the band, but don't like our relationship and well …”

“They attack me.” I say, shortening for him. Luke states awkwardly. “How and why?” I don't know if I really want to know, but I know I need to.

Luke scratches his forehead. I feel bad for having to pass it on or go over it.

“They say bad things about you, about your job, about us. But nothing, nothing, is true.” Luke stresses "nothing" already knowing that most likely I would have that in my head. “Look, no matter what we do, there will always be people wanting to get in the middle and think they know more than the two of us, so just ignore it. Let them talk to themselves, they stop and go on to another topic. OK?” his face lowers, trying to meet my eyes, which were focusing on the pillow between us.

“OK!” I look at him with a weak smile. Luke gives a weak smile too, before giving me a kiss on the forehead and going after Noah to post his text.

In his tweets, Luke explains what happened between the two of us. He tells about my amnesia and how we both talked, and together, we decided to take a break, until I got used to my life or until I remembered everything. In the sequence, he also made clear all the affection and respect that we still had for each other. In addition to pulling the ear of whoever was attacking me or blaming me.

I don't know where it would be my fault. After all, I am the victim. Not to mention that none of this would be happening if it weren't for the accident. I would probably still be with Luke, together and happy.

I stare at the rug, hoping and praying for some memory to come, but my brain ignores me. I sigh, sinking into the couch. I look at the balcony, seeing the two talking. Luke is too perfect, it is not possible. I wouldn't have all that maturity.

This is not just maturity ...

I close my eyes, trying to silence my conscience. I know what it was, but not talking or thinking makes it seem like it’s not real.

Who am I kidding?!

Soon Luke's tweets were on TV, with several photos and videos of appearances, and everyone was commenting. Apparently the text was well accepted by the media, which changed the focus of the relationship a little and went back to talking about my accident. I hold my breath when the accident video is played again. I get up calling the attention of the two, who return to the living room and turn off the TV.

“Are you OK?” Noah asks attentively. I just nod.

“I need to go. I'm sure someone will show up at the studio to discuss with me. Later I try to stop by or call you.” Luke warns, coming towards me.

I hug him again, feeling safe. I apologize for getting him into this mess.

“It is not your fault and what matters is your well-being. And remember.” he holds my face, making me look into his blue eyes. “Nothing they say about you is true, don't let that take your head. I'll call you later.” he kisses me on the forehead and leaves.

“Oh, it is so difficult to see you like this and know that you are not together.” I turn to Noah, who is sitting on the sofa, looking at me in pain. I throw a pillow over his face and sit back down next to him.

“Believe me, I know.” I watch one more picture of us on the screen. “We are a beautiful couple.” I give a sad smile.

“Are?” Noah comments with a hopeful smile. “Can I start to ship again and create expectations?” he nudges me.

“First of all, did you ever stop to ship and create expectations?” Noah gives a weird smile. “Second, even if you haven't stopped, no. Despite everything, I still don't feel anything for Luke.” I sigh.

Perhaps "nothing" was a very strong word. I have affection and gratitude, but that I also have for Noah, Kyleen, Mike, Ashton, Calum and Leah, that is, it didn't mean much. What I needed was not there yet. However, I still hope to happen.

[...]

“Doesn't he look beautiful dressed like that? You have to see when he uses the overalls.” Calum sits next to me, provoking Ashton who was sitting on the floor, moving in his garden.

“Old Ashton had a farm, ieieo.” I humming with Calum, continuing the provocation.

I take the water bottle from Calum's hand, watching Ash dressed in faded jeans, a dirty T-shirt and a wide straw hat. I give a short laugh, watching Ashton glare at Calum. Apparently, his hobby in gardening was pretty funny.

“I already know what to give you on your birthday.” I get on the joke with Calum.

“You already gave that.” the two talk together, scaring me.

I look at them both with wide eyes as they laugh. This is already getting boring, it seems that everyone has some advantage over me. I see the idea of ​​the garden kit for kids going down the drain. I didn't know what to give, now then.

“Then I will need your help with this.” I whisper to Calum, who just nods.

“So, you stopped when Luke left.” Ash reminds me.

After yesterday, with my name and Luke's in everyone's mouth, today I didn't want to stay at home, I needed to relax, so the two ladies went to pick me up to spend the afternoon here at Ashton's house with them. Especially because they wanted to know how I was doing and I wanted to hear from Luke.

“Well, everything was fine. Everything calmed down, as far as possible, until the intercom rang.” I give a discredited laugh, remembering yesterday. “When Stephen appeared at the door of my building.”

The two looked at me in astonishment.

“You're kidding, right?” Ashton even got up, approaching me.

“Go for me, I would like a lot, but no. He knew about Luke and me and wanted to try the chance. Little does he know that I already know everything.” I comment the last part quietly, not wanting to focus on that.

“This guy is unbelievable. How does he have that courage?!” Calum comments outraged.

“Did you tell Luke?” Ashton asks, after walking around as outraged as Cal.

“No and I don't know if I'm going to tell.” they look at me alarmed. “I don't want Luke to feel like he has to have any responsibility to keep Stephen from me and I know he will.” I confirm my theory when Cal shakes his head, agreeing with me. “Nothing happened either, Noah went down and ran him, it was just an isolated case.” I shrug.

I didn't expect Stephen to show up, not after the hospital, however, if he ever had the courage to show up for the first time after everything I experienced (according to my diary), the hospital misunderstanding was nothing for him.

I can't hide that I was very tempted to go down and break my cast on his head, but Noah was quicker, locking me at home and going in my place. According to him, now was not the time for an aggression scandal. Do what?! He's right.

“I understand you, my love, but as a friend, I advise you to tell.” Ash sits next to me. “This will end up getting to him, like it or not, so it better be for you.”

“Yeah, no need to go into details, but tell him.” Hood reinforces.

“I don't know if Parker's party is an appropriate place, but it may be easier to relax afterwards.” Ashton shrugs, wanting to help.

“Ah, I heard about this party. He's Noah's fling, isn't he?”

“Don't let Noah hear that.” Calum laughs, catching my attention.

But it was Leah who told me about them.

“Noah and Parker resemble you and Hemmo very much at the beginning. Everyone knows something is going to happen, but you guys play hard to get”. Ashton explains. I open my mouth to defend myself, but according to my diary, that was it.

I don't help myself.

“Well, regardless of his status, I won't.” the two look at me surprised and upset. “ I'm not ready for parties yet, sorry, but I don't want to sit all night on the couch without being able to dance or having to drag it up and down.” I point to the orthopedic boot on my foot, irritated by that thing.

“But what are you going to do over the weekend then?’ Cal asks.

“You will laugh and judge me.” I answer with a pout. I may not know them well enough, but enough to understand what they are like.

“Calum quite capable, but I don't.” Calum opens his arms, visibly offended by Ash's comment, making me laugh. “You laugh at that fall of Mike in the London show until today and it has more than seven years.”

It was Ashton talking about this show that Hood started to laugh, agreeing that he was the most likely to laugh at me.

“I still have the video.” he comments after a sigh, stopping laughing.

“Tell me.” my friend asks me, turning my attention to him.

“ I'm going to throw myself on my couch, with a lot of junk food and watch makeover programs and maybe some movies. This is going to be my weekend.” I tell after a sigh.

“This is so depressing that I can't even laugh.” Calum says shaking his head in denial. I look at him indignantly. Come on?! It's not so bad.

“Really, M&Ms? Is this going to be your weekend? On the couch clogging up with food?” Ashton is more indignant than I am with Cal.

“ I'm not in the mood, I'm sorry. But don't worry, Kyleen told me about your birthday party and I will, I swear.” I raise my right hand, as if I were in court.

“You are not even crazy to consider not going. I bring you by the boot.” he counters by returning to the vase he was stirring before.

“Was he always that delicate?” I ask Calum, who spits half the water.

“Oh, Marnie, you need to spend more time with us.” he pats my knee, like an old man telling about his childhood.

“Well, changing the subject a little, and Luke, how is he?” Ashton and Calum look at each other to get my attention.

“He's taking it. He has been busy with some compositions, he has lived in the studio.” Calum replies, going around the mouth of the bottle with his finger.

I look at Ashton, who was still thoughtful. Luke is probably not as well as they try to pass me, or something else is going on.

“He'll be fine!” Irwin reinforces, trying to keep me calm.

I decide not to poke the situation anymore and focus my thoughts on the conversation we were having when I arrived, which was to recall some more facts from the last few years.

“Wait, and you got stuck in the room? And the girl is gone?” I question Calum, very lost in the whole story of how he met Kyleen.

“Yes, the girl locked me there and I don't know where she went, but Kyleen came and released me.” he explains.

“You need to find more normal girls, seriously, you have a serious problem in choosing someone.” I tell them. Serious! Emery, this girl now, my God, what a rotten picker.

“After that we went out a few times and she became part of the team. Shortly thereafter, we met Noah and Leah. That's been six years. Something around there.” Cal finishes.

“Went out?” I widen my eyes. “Have you and Kyleen ever had an affair?” I approached him, shocked, seeing him nod. “ Oh my God!”

“ It's really fun to tell her things, isn't it?” Ash laughs, seeing my reaction.

“Yes, but it came to nothing, it was more fun and in the end, it started to get weird. So, we decided to just be friends.” Hood responds. Once again, I look at Ash with my mouth open, making him laugh.

“She didn't tell me that. What a bitch.” I lean against the wall, indignant.

After the fun afternoon with Tweedledee and Tweedledum, Calum took me home, since today I was having dinner with my father and Meredith for the first time.

“Anything call me, okay?” Hood speaks before saying goodbye. “Especially if Meredith brings that peach pie with homemade whipped cream.” I watch with wide eyes, he close his eyes dreaming of the pie. “I can even taste it.” he finally sighs.

“Do you want me to keep a piece?” he quickly nods, smiling. “Okay, bye, Cal. Thanks!”

I get out of the car laughing. I couldn't ask for better friends.

I keep imagining a million scenarios while I get ready and wait for them to arrive. I know that Meredith and I know each other and get along, but that doesn't stop my anxiety from attacking.

The doorbell rings and I almost cry, regretting not having canceled before. I open the door to find Meredith fixing the collar of my father's shirt, which held the so famous pie. I watch the woman with medium dark hair and a long jumpsuit, opening a warm smile. My father steps forward and gives me a hug.

“How are you?” he analyzes me.

“Well, every day better.” I give a nervous smile. Then the time came. “Hey!” I open my smile a little more to receive Meredith.

She takes a step towards me, shy and extends her hand. I squeeze willingly and give passage to the two of them. We sat at the table and stared at each other for a few seconds, until I realized that I didn't put the dish on the table.

“Sorry.” I mention getting up, but my father takes the lead.

I understand that he wants to help, but being alone with Meredith, even for two seconds, was still not comfortable.

“So …” I start. “I saw that you are going to publish a second book.”

“Ah yes yes. Next week, I can't wait.” she responds excitedly.

Her first book was about toxic relationships and to my amazement, I helped out on some points. The second book would be about the new beginning, the emotional and financial freedom of women. She was not a Jane Austen, because the genres are different, but she is well known.

“I know I'm suspicious to talk, but it looks incredible. Your mother read and loved it.” my father comments the last part in a natural way. However, Meredith notes that I was a little uncomfortable and changed the subject.

I discreetly thanks. My parents' divorce and their friendship is something that I am still absorbing. I accept, but I am learning to cope.

We started talking about my father's trip to Japan and how he fumbled over there. It didn't take long for me to get comfortable with Meredith over there, she's as funny as my dad and very kind.

Meredith must be my mother's age, but she has an energy that makes her look much younger. She wears colorful clothes, always has a huge smile on her face and a contagious laugh. It is good to be close to her. I discover that her first husband was her high school boyfriend, but unfortunately he died of cancer.

Then she started dating an organic food store owner, but he was not a nice guy. It was from this relationship that the first book came out. I admire the courage and strength she had to put an end to it. In return, she had Kendall and Samantha, who look adorable.

“Ah, before I forget.” She takes some papers out of her bag. “The twins made some drawings for you.”

I open those papers with a huge smile. The paintings contained various hearts, flowers, Petunia in various forms and even their self-portrait with me. Everyone wished me well and said that I was the best sister in the world.

“I do not even know what to say.” I am touched. I always wanted to have siblings and since I knew them both, the desire to meet them only increases. The only issue is the fear that they won't like me.

“They are dying to see you, but we said they need to wait for you to be ready. I know there is still a lot to assimilate and absorb.” Meredith says calmly. I am grateful that they do not press anything.

But like everything, I needed to face this. Being afraid of two five-year-olds is not going to help at all. In fact, it will only make me miss them more.

“Yes, you commented on the interview that Meredith will give on the afternoon program, on Wednesday. If they want, I can take care of them.” I suggest nervous, after all, I have amnesia, a broken arm and a leg in the orthopedic boot. I don't know if I'm reliable.

They both look at each other and shrug. For them, I wouldn't have the slightest problem, and certainly not for the children. So it was agreed, Wednesday, I would find my brothers, and may God help me.

“Who's up for pie?” Meredith opens that smile again.

I end up laughing again, remembering Calum earlier. I send a photo of my plate to him, who responds with crying emojis and a huge audio, begging to keep his piece.

[samdeancass]

SuperWolf

Requested by: @kikikittykis

Pairing: Scott x reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Characters: Y/N, Dean, Sam, Scott, Stiles, Derek

Description: Supernatural/Teen wolf Crossover!

"So, there have been multiple reports of murders going on in a town called Beacon Hills in central California. I think we should check it out."

Dean was sitting across from Sam, legs crossed over each other on the table and nursing a whiskey. "Murders, OK. But what makes this our sort of thing. Murders happen in small towns all the time."

Sam leaned in closer to the laptop screen and read through the article again. "It says that there were claw marks left on some of the bodies. Others were left completely mangled. I'd say that would definitely make this our sort of thing."

Dean sat upright in his chair and placed his whiskey on the table. "I don't know, Sammy. Sound just like a normal animal attack to me. I don't want to go all the way to Cali just to find out that animals have been munching on people. It just doesn't seem worth it to me."

Sam closed the laptop lid abruptly and got up from the table. "We've travelled further on less, Dean. I've got a feeling about this one. Go and get Y/N. We're leaving in 10." Sam walked away from the table and towards his room, leaving Dean sitting at the table. "Why am I always the one to get her? He knows that she hates leaving before having something to eat. She's gonna bite my fucking head off." Dean stood up from the table and made his way to your room, giving three quiet taps on the door.

You were sat upright on your bed, pillows supporting your back. Your stomach was beginning to rumble and you were about to get food when the knocks sounded at your door. "Come in!". The green eyed hunter entered your room with a sheepish look on his face. "Y/N/N, Sam's found us a case. Multiple mangled bodies in Cali. We're leaving in 10."

You groaned in response and slammed your book down on your bed. "Come on, seriously! How does this always happen when I'm going to get something to eat?! Fine, I'll be ready in 5." Dean quickly closed his door and made his way to his room, muttering under his breath how he's gonna get Sam back.

The journey to California was long and tiring. Sam and Dean were constantly bickering with each other which made you want to pull your hair out. You stopped at a few gas stations and filled the hungry void in your stomach which improved your mood a little. You all checked into a motel and began to research what the culprit could be.

"It seems like all of the murders are happening around the high school. We need somebody to go undercover and try to find out some information." Sam was sat at the table, huddled over a map. Dean looked at you as Sam finished his sentence, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Nope. No way. No fucking way, guys. I'm not going back to school. You've got no chance." You shook your head violently, completely refusing. "I had a terrible time at school. Why don't you guys do it?"

Sam and Dean smiled at each other. "Oh yeah, ok. I'm sure two fully grown men would be allowed to attend a high school, Y/N. C'mon, it'll only be until we've found what the hell this son of a bitch is and then we'll be gone." Sam flashed you his puppy dog eyes which immediately melted you.

"Fine!" You crossed your arms over your chest and sulked a little. "Sam, you really need to stop using those eyes, it's not very fair." He walked over to you and engulfed you into a bear hug, which immediately lifted your mood. "You know you love me." "Yeah, whatever. Let's get me registered so I can get this over and done with."

Scott and Stiles were walking down the hallway, whispering between themselves. "And what are you two girls whispering about?" They both stopped short when they seen Derek standing 2 feet in front of them, arms crossed and a smug smile plastered onto his face.

"What makes you think that we're acting like girls? Just because we whisper a lot and keep secrets doesn't mean we're acting - yep we're acting like girls." A red blush rose on Stiles' cheeks as he turned away from Derek, clearly embarrassed.

"What are you doing here, Derek? I thought you were staying away from us?" Scott gave Derek a questioning glare before delving into the depths of his locker to find his school books. "I need your help, Scott. Another body has been found and it looks like it was a wolf kill. We need to try and find whoever is doing this and stop them before we attract unwanted attention."

Scott turned around and opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. Derek tried to get his attention but failed so he decided to see what, or who, Scott was looking at.

Far across in the corner of the hallway, you were stuffing your useless school books in to your locker whilst talking on the phone to Dean. "This is absolutely pointless, I'm not going to find anything here, Dean." "How do you know that? You haven't even tried yet." You could practically hear the eye roll in his voice and huffed in response. "I swear, if this ends up wasting my time, Winchester, I'm gonna beat your ass."

You heard muffled laughter from the other side of the phone and hung up, internally screaming. You turned around and began to walk up the hallway to your 'class' when you felt two pairs of eyes on you. You turned around to confront these people but stopped dead in your tracks, a slight blush creeping onto your face.

"She's noticed you, McCall. Go and say something! We can talk about our wolf problem later." Scott growled a little when Derek pushed him towards you, eyes flashing red in his direction. Derek held his hands up and pulled Stiles away by his ear to stop him from eavesdropping. "Hey! Why does he always get the girls?!"

Scott shuffled forward slowly towards you, anxiety wrecking his body. He hadn't felt like this about a girl since Allison, and with what happened to her, he was a little hesitant to even think about dating another girl. You let out a breath to calm your nerves as he walked towards you.

Scott shuffled the remaining distance between you two and glanced up at you shyly. A blush rose up on your cheeks under Scott's stare. You cleared your throat quietly and began to speak.

"Hey, I'm Y/N L/N. I'm new here." You held out your hand and Scott took it, shaking it. "I'm Scott McCall, lovely to meet you. Maybe, if you wanted, I could show you around the town? There's a diner in town that sells the best milkshakes." You thought for a second before nodding your head. "That would be great, thank you." Scott led you out of the school entrance and made your way towards the diner.

"What the hell is she doing in there? She's supposed to be undercover, not going on dates!" Dean was sitting behind the wheel of the Impala, nostrils flaring in anger.

Dean and Sam had followed you to the restaurant so they could make sure you were safe.

"Is it the fact that she's not investigating or that she's with a boy?" Sam looked at his brother accusingly, knowing what the answer was.

Dean opened his mouth to say something but soon closed it when he seen you and Scott leaving the restaurant. You spotted the jet black 67 chevy in the parking lot and rolled your eyes inwardly. You turned to Scott and pressed a kiss to his cheek before saying goodbye and making your way towards the car. Both of the brothers braced themselves when you said into the backseat.

"What are you two doing here? I was investigating." You sat in the back with your arms crossed over your chest in frustration. You heard Dean take a deep breath before turning around to confront you.

"Yeah, it sure looked like investigating. What was that kiss you gave him? Looks to me like you were on a date! That's not what we're here to do!" Sam could tell Dean's anger was getting the better of him so he decided to step in.

"I think what Dean's trying to say is, don't get distracted. This job is very important and we don't want to get side tracked." Sam gave you a small smile before placing a hand on Dean's shoulder in an attempt to calm him down.

You nodded in understanding. "I know that, but I really was investigating. I was seeing if Scott knew anything about the attacks that was going on, but he didn't."

You were lucky that the brothers didn't have any telekinetic abilities to read minds because at this point they knew that you were lying. Sure, you were investigating but Scott had told you something very important and you didn't want the Winchesters to know because you knew how they would react.

"Scott? Is that his name? Kinda young for you don't ya think?" You gave Dean a slap to the back of the head. "So what? It's not like you've been able to hit on anything older than you." Sam sniggered at your reply whilst you sat back smugly.

Dean cleared his throat before getting to the root of why they were in Beacon Hills. "Well, I know you didn't find out anything about this wolf, but me and Sammy did. We're going to head out tonight to catch this son if a bitch so we should be home by morning."

Your eyes went wide. You hadn't expected them to narrow down their search so quickly. You couldn't let them hunt down this wolf, at any cost. "And what exactly did you find out? Surely its not trustworthy?"

At the other side of the parking lot, Scott was standing next to his motorbike, listening in to your conversation. Anger grew in his body. "She's a hunter?! Why didn't she tell me?"

His eyes turned red before getting on his bike and riding away before he could hear the rest of the conversation.

Sam and Dean looked at each other and began to laugh. "Whats with all the questions, Y/N? You usually don't need anything trustworthy to hunt down monsters?!"

You shrugged in response. "I don't know, I guess its just a little too quick for my liking. Can we maybe sit on this for a little whilst we delve into the situation some more?" The brothers shook their head in confusion before turning back to the front of the car. "Alright, just one night though. Then we're definitely going to hunt it down."

You and the brothers parted ways for the night and checked into your own rooms. Immediately, you threw your bags down on the floor and pulled out your phone, dialling Scott's number.

The dialling tone rang for a few seconds before Scott picked up. "What?" Your face contorted in confusion at Scott's aggressive manner. "Woah, what's the matter with you?"

You could hear Scott's breathing becoming more heavy on the other side of the line. "Why didn't you tell me you were a hunter and you were hunting one if my kind?!"

Dread filled your whole body as you sat down on the bed in an attempt to stabilise yourself. "You weren't supposed to find out about that. I wanted to tell you, but I wanted to protect you. Other hunters aren't like me, they don't sympathise like I do."

Scott's breathing began to slow down a little as he processed the new information. "You should have told me, I would have understood. But please, leave this situation to us, we've got this handled. It'll be sorted by the end of the night."

You and Scott carried on the conversation for a few more minutes before hanging up. You lay back on the bed and fell into a deep sleep.

Loud bangs on the door awoke you the next morning. You groaned at few loudness and swore inwardly at the people who dared wake you. You opened the door and found the Winchesters smiling widely at you.

"What do you want? Don't you know its rude to wake up a woman?" You walked slowly back into your room before flouncing back down on the bed.

"Good morning to you to". Dean walked in and grumbled slightly under his breath before you narrowing your eyes at him in response. "Turns out, it was just a wolf that was killing people. The cops found it this morning."

You sat up straight and stared at Sam. "Really?" Sam nodded in response as Dean took a seat at the table. "I told you it was a waste if time travelling down here, that it was just a normal animal attack. But did you listen to me? Nooooo."

Sam shook his head at Dean's childish actions. "Me and Dean have already checked out. We'll be waiting for you in the car when you're ready."

You gathered your belongings together after getting dressed and headed out to the Impala, handing in your keys at the desk after.

"Guys, can we please make a stop at the high school first. I need to say goodbye to Scott." Dean rolled his eyes in the mirror and began to place his foot down harder on the accelerator.

You had texted Scott to tell him you were on your way. He was waiting outside the school when the Impala pulled up. You got out of the car and walked towards him.

"Thank you for stalling them, Y/N. We managed to catch the wolf before they did anymore damage. I'm so sorry I was angry at you, I should be used to things like that by now."

You placed a warm hand on Scott's face which he leaned in to. "You don't have to say sorry. You had a right to be worried, given what you are. So thank you for catching whoever it was before those two got their hands on it."

Scott laughed in response. "So I guess this is goodbye then?" You nodded. "For now, yes. But I'll be back to visit my favourite werewolf."

Scott blushed at this before crashing his lips on yours in a passionate goodbye. After a few seconds, you both parted away from each other. He kissed your hands before you walked away.

"I'll text and call you, OK?" Scott nodded before waving goodbye and heading back into the school.

You slid into the backseat of the car when the brothers turned to face you, smug smiles on their faces.

"Looks like somebody's found someone she likes."

"Just drive you idiot."

You smiled to yourself and began counting down the days you'll be back in Beacon Hills.

[followyoursecretsmutblog]

strictly speaking.

Request: Anonymous - I am not sure you are open for ideas, if not just feel free to ignore me. I have this in my mind for a while but I know I couldn’t write it as you. So: Our guy is Napoleon Solo, who is on a plane with his lady, a fellow spy (their relationship is secret). Because they are on a plane with others, they can’t do it, but they started to talk what they would do to each other if they were alone. So it’s basically just talk, but a steamy one. I could die to read that. 👀👅

A/N: Thank you for the request! Sorry it took so long, I really appreciate your patience! I hope you enjoy it! This is my third attempt at Napoleon, and I had a lot of fun writing this!

“Solo, keep your hands to yourself. We are in public.” You say softly, crossing your legs and flipping the page of your magazine.

“Well, you are no fun.” He says as he puts his hand back in his own lap.

“I am a lot of fun. You were reminded of that this morning.” You say cheekily, looking at him through the side of your eye.

He just smirks as he leans over toward you, pretending to look out the window, watching as you pass the clouds. “This morning was the morning. I want you now.” He whispers hotly in your ear. 

Your hands shake for a moment at the sound of his voice, so calm yet so dominate.

Taking a deep breath, you flip another page. “We are in the middle of an airplane. The toilets are too small. And I am very comfortable.”

“Let me make you uncomfortable, my dear.” He sits back down in his seat, grabbing the paper he stashed in the pocket upon sitting down. “What do you say to a little game?” He asks, opening the paper with a snap.

“How dirty are we playing?”

He says nothing for a long time, seemingly engrossed in whatever article he is reading.

“If we weren’t called in today, what would we be doing?” He asks finally.

“Most likely spending the day in bed. It would have been our first day together in a while.” You turn the page, seemingly uninterested.

“I bet if we were at home right now, you would be on your... third orgasm. Maybe fourth.” Your eyes snap open and your legs clench together.

“Leon, don’t start something you can’t finish.” You hiss.

“Dear, I can get you off without even touching you. Trust me, I am perfectly fine.” His blue eyes slide to yours, shinning with mischief. “For instants, you look good, but imagine how good you would look with my fingers inside of you.”

You let out a soft laugh at that, shaking your head at him. “Whew, and here I thought you were actually going to say something smart. That is just pitiful, Leon. Try again.” Your smile doesn’t slip as you turn your gaze outside the window. 

“You don’t want my fingers?” He asks, his own eyes shifting back to his paper.

“If I was looking for a quick fix, sure. But, if we were to be home, I was hoping you would use that wicked tongue of yours first.” You slip your hand onto his thigh as you give it a quick squeeze, letting your fingers brush against his crotch before pulling it away. “You know how much I love the things you do with it.”

“What makes you think I will give you what you want from the start? We would have all day together, I’d love to take my time with you. Reacquaint myself with your body.” 

You let out a soft laugh at that, shaking your head as you turn your attention back to reading. “Leon, you and my body are very much acquainted. I fear you may know it better than me.”

“Of course, I do. Only I know that if I were to lightly run my fingers over the inside of your thigh, your nipples will harden and your will breathing will catch.” He says huskily, watching you as you slip your hand between your legs, your fingers dancing along the soft, tender skin of your thigh. As your fingers move up, you can feel your breath becoming harder to come by, your legs start shaking as your nipples harden against the rough material of your dress. “Just like that.” He says, his satisfied smirk audible. 

Straightening your back, you move your hand back to the magazine, flipping pages. “Okay, I’ll give you that. Only because I love having your hands on me.” You can see his smile out of the corner of your eye. “But, you, my sweet, love my mouth on you. The way my tongue glides over your harden length, playing with your slit as my lips wrap around you, sucking and biting.

Leon shifts in his seat slightly, but other than that, he is unaffected by your words. “Let’s see, if you would already have me at my fourth orgasm, that means we would have to take a small break, get you back to full mast.” A smirk graces your lips as the images swirl in your head, the two of you lying in bed, light sheen of sweat covering your bodies. The midmorning sun illuminating Leon with an angelic glow as he tells you how good you were for him, how well you took him as he runs his fingers softly across your cheek.

As the scene plays in your mind, you speak your actions out for him softly, breathlessly, as if it were a dream you never wanted to forget. “I’d kiss you softly before rolling you to your back and climbing on top of you, running my greedy little hands along the plains of your body as I move lower, my lips leaving a trail of nips and kisses as I reach your half hard cock. Oh, Leon, the way I would look up at you as I take you in my mouth. Letting my tongue trace every vein and ridge on you, my teeth scratching against you as you moan for more.

“You would thread your fingers in my hair, pushing me lower and lower, wanting me to take you all in.” You stop, tilting your head back against your seat, one of your hands coming up and resting on your throat. “I can just imagine the way you would feel moving in and out of my throat. Feeling the way your velvety skin would slide against my tongue.” You turn your head ever so slightly in his direction, seeing his hands clenching his paper tightly. “I can practically taste your come in my mouth, my dear Leon.” You whisper out.

“I should fuck that mouth of yours, teach it a lesson. It is very filthy.” Your eyes roll back into your head at the sound of that, loving it when he is rough with you. He grabs his jacket from the floor, laying it casually across his lap. “Whoever taught you that kind of language?” He chides, giving you a side eye as you turn back to the window.

“Attention passengers, we will be starting our descent. If you would please put your tray tables up, your seats forward and give your trash to the air hostess. On behalf of the crew, thank you for flying with us and we hope to see you soon.”

“Only the filthiest man I know.” You can’t hide the smile from your voice. “But, back to the good stuff, your cock down my throat.” Napoleon chokes a little at your brazen words, you can see his body vibrating next to you. “Let’s see, after you get hard again, I would pop off you, your cock red and covered in my saliva, ready to take me. Would you let me ride you, Leon? Let me take control for a bit? I’m sure it would be worth your while.

“My pussy taking your thick shaft, slowly sliding down, feeling you twitch for me to go faster. But, of course, I won’t.” You shift your eyes to his, waiting for him to look at you. It takes a moment, you have been quiet far too long, his curiosity nipping at him as he turns, meeting your heated gaze. “Because, we have all day together.” You say seductively. 

“And once I bottom out, I would just sit there, letting my walls clench around you, massaging your very generous girth as you beg me to move.” Napoleon lets out a huff at that. “Trust me, baby, you will beg.” Turning back to your magazine, you continue, “You always do.”

“Sir, can you please put your tray table in the upright position? We will be landing in about 5 minutes.” The air hostess says brightly, snagging Napoleon’s attention away.

“Of course, how silly of me to have forgotten.” He dazzles her with a bright smile and you watch her eyes wonder down his body. With a satisfied click of her tongue she walks off, swaying her hips obnoxiously. “Where were we again?” He brings his voice lower, eyes dragging back to his paper. “Please, tell me more about how I will be begging for you.”

“Actions speak louder than words, my sweet Leon. The way you will shift your hips, the way the muscles in your abdomen will clench, how you with be fisting the sheets to stop from touching me. All those signs tell me everything I have ever needed to know. You beg, baby, and you look so good while you do it.” You turn the page, “When I would be ready to move, I would place my hands against your stomach, using it as leverage to pull up, feeling you slide out of me. But, I would keep your head in, letting my walls clench at the feeling of you not being inside me anymore before dropping back down.”

You clench your legs together at the thought, feeling yourself get wet at your own imagination, remembering just this morning how it felt to have him inside you, slowly fucking you awake. Letting your climax be your alarm, to be your precursor for how your day was supposed to be.

“I would get tired of your teasing really fast. As much as I love watching you move on top of me, I would let you finish. I do love watching you come, the way your body shakes, how your nipples beg to be pulled and sucked, how your pussy clenches around my cock. How you make these little pants and gasps, begging for more.” 

The plane lands and starts taxing to the gate, your game almost over. “What would you do with me?” You ask, feeling your core throb, in desperate need of attention.

“I would wait until you were just about to come back down, grabbing your wrists in one hand and rolling us so I was on top of you. Pinning your hands above your head, I’d start fucking you. And not that sweet, slow, torturous fuck from this morning, no. This will be hard and fast. The only sounds being heard will be our skin slapping each other and your moans, begging me for more. Because you sound like such a good girl begging for my cock. Wanting it to go deeper, to fill you up.”

The plane stops, and the people around you start unbuckling their seatbelts and standing as the air cuts off. “Leon, tell me more.” You whine, your hand gripping your magazine tightly, trying to keep your mouth closed in fear of crying out.

He says nothing for a long time, just folding his paper and stuffing it in his bag and taking his seatbelt off as well before shifting in his seat to face you. You look at him, begging him silently to put you out of your misery. You were so close, and you have only just been talking about it!

With a satisfied smirk he reaches over, unclasping your belt and setting his hand on the top of your thigh, giving it a hearty squeeze. His fingertips pressing into your inner thigh making you shake even more. “And then you come, crying out my name. I get to feel your walls clench around me again, feel them drain my cock of my come as I spill inside you, filling you before pulling out, watching as it drips from your quivering pussy. Soiling the sheets in the best way possible.”

He slides his hand up higher, his signet ring brushing ever so slightly against your aching clit, making you gasp. Placing his lips against your ear, he whispers one command you can’t help but follow as your eyes roll to the back of your head and your body shakes.

Come.

My requests are closed. For those that have sent me one, please know I am working on them slowly. Thank you for your patience.