#subjecting myself to jeans pain again

[tiny-planet-13]

I caved I'm reading the sunshine court again I can't live another day without it I literally can't breathe when I think about it it has only been a week and I'm going insane jean I'm coming for you and I'm going to hold your hand through all the pain so you can reach you own sunshine and happiness 🔥🔥🔥

[albertasunrise]

Oops Baby - One too Many

Masterlist

Summary: Being best friends with Frankie meant movie nights, drinks with the guys and a shoulder to cry on when you got your hear broken. He is head over heels for you but you don’t feel the same… yet a drunken mistake will tie your lives together forever!

Relationships: Frankie Morales x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3 I choose to give none. Read at own risk. 18+ (I am so excited to share this with you. Came up with this idea ages ago, just wasn't sure who to use. Was between Frankie and Marcus Pike... Though our cutie Fish would work best though. Hope you enjoy ♥️)

Series Masterlist -

"What's wrong with me Frankie?" You grumbled as you downed the last of your drink and motioned at the barman to get you another "I mean... Do I have cheat on me written across my forehead?"

"Nothing's wrong with you." He gave you a reassuring nudge and a sweet smile "The guy was just a fucking idiot and couldn't see how good he had it."

"You have to say that." You scoff "You're my best friend."

"No, I mean it." Fish pouted, his eyes growing sad "If I was with you I'd never let you go." His whole body went rigid at his confession and so did yours.

In all the many years you had known each other, Frankie had managed to keep his feelings for you buried. He had watched as you went from relationship to relationship. All of them ended the same way. You cried into his t-shirt as he fed you beers to try and numb the pain.

He coughed in an attempt to dispel the awkward silence that had now settled over you both. His left hand fidgeted in his lap as he grabbed his beer and drained the remainder of it in one large gulp.

"Another!" He said as he motioned at the bartender "Never trusted him you know." He stated as he returned his attention to you.

"No?" You question, your eyebrow quirking at his statement.

"Nah... Guys with eyebrows that well maintained are either cheats or gay." he stated plainly and you spat your beer over the bar "Woah... Mind the shirt."

"Sorry." You choke out as you bash your chest to dry and clear the beer in your throat "You can't say shit like that Francisco."

"What?... It's true."

"No I mean you can't say shit like that whilst I'm taking a sip of my drink!" You chuckled "You nearly killed me."

"You're smiling though, are you?"

"That I am." You agreed, giving him a sweet smile before supping at your beer again.

The two of you moved on to other subjects then. How Will had finally bitten the bullet and created an online dating profile. How Ben was smashing his fights and how Santi was expecting a baby with his wife in Australia.

"Talking of parents... How are mels?" You asked and his expression grew a little sadder at the mention of his, somewhat recently, deceased wife.

"They're doing okay." He replied with a nod "Taking each day as it comes. No parent expects to bury their kid..."

"I bet!" You sighed as you leaned into him and rest your head on his shoulder "I don't know about you... But I think we need more drinks!"

"You going to be okay to get home if you drink much more?"

Ahh sweet Frankie... always the worrier.

"I'll work it out Fishsticks."

"Please don't call me that." He groaned, throwing his head back dramatically before fumbling to catch his hat that had slipped off his head "You can crash at mine if you like?" He propositioned "Seeing as I have the house to myself for the weekend."

"Sounds good." You grinned, perking up immediately "Bartender! More beer please."

...

You weren't sure how you'd got here. One moment you were drinking with Frankie in the bar and the next you were pinned against his front door as he painted your flesh with kisses. His hat and shirt were long discarded and you revelled at his form. Strong arms, broad shoulders and a tiny waist. His tummy was a little softer but you found it endearing and you found your mouth watering as you unfastened his jeans and pushed them, along with his underwear, down his hips.

Then, in what felt like the blink of an eye, Francisco Morales... Your best friend of six years... Was naked as the day he was born in front of you. Normally this is where you would start to panic. Yet, you found yourself so wrapped up in the feel of him that you didn’t have time to. You were dragged back to the present when Fish plunged two thick fingers into your heat, pulling a filthy moan from you and you grabbed his biceps firmly as you threw your head back in pleasure.

"What me to fuck you right here or in my bed?" He purred in your ear and you clenched around his digits.

"Start here... Bed later..." Was all you could pant out before you were grabbing his length and stroked it as he roughly fucked you with his fingers "Fuck Frankie... I need you now."

"Mmmmm." He hummed as he grabbed your thighs and lifted you, wrapping them around his waist.

Your arms instinctively looped around his shoulders as he pushed you against the wall beside his front door, mewling as he drove into you in one deep thrust. He was easily the biggest you'd ever had. Filling you so deliciously that you knew after tonight, he was going to ruin all other men for you.

"Fuck you feel incredible." He growled as he pushed into you, finding your sweet spot almost instantly "Just like I imagined."

This statement would, in any other situation, have given you pause but right now as he continued to fuck up into you with a precision you'd not expected from him, you paid it no heed. He was literally fucking you dumb. Pleasuring every thought out of your head except for one.

A revelation that had taken you by surprise.

You sweet, quiet, reserved Francisco had a filthy mouth... And you loved it. You soaked it up. Revelled in his praise and bathed in the warmth that filled you. He was quick to tip you over the edge. Something guys often failed to do without some stimulation but not Frankie... Not he was able to make you cum with just his length and his mouth.

"That's it, baby." He purred when he felt you peak "Cum for me beautiful."

He fucked you through your high, attacking your neck with kisses and nips as he then went about chasing his own. He fucked you like his life depended on it. Focusing his thrusts so that he could wring every last ounce of pleasure from you before he fell.

"Frankie I'm... I'm..."

"I know baby." He cooed "Me too."

"I'm cumming." You sobbed as he pushed you over the edge one last time but this time you pulled him right along with you.

He collapsed against you, panting as he desperately tried to keep himself from collapsing to the ground. You were now a limp mess in his arms, panting and grinning like a fool as you smiled at him.

"Let's get to bed." Fish managed to say after a short pause "I wanna taste you sweetheart." He stated before pushing away from the wall and carrying you down the hall to his room.

It was going to be a long night.

...

Your brain was pounding.

You groaned as you rolled over to grab your phone, only to find it wasn't there. Two Tylenol and a glass of water, however, were waiting for you. Taking the tablets you threw them in your mouth before downing the water, practically groaning in relief. You then started to study your surroundings and realised that you weren't in your bed.

You were in Frankie's.

"What the hell;?" You questioned as you started to push yourself up and then you realised that you were naked.

Completely naked.

Your heart started to race then. Your mind reeled as you tried to remember what happened last night. You had gone for drinks with Frankie after learning your boyfriend of two years had cheated on you. Then things got a little blurry. You tried to focus... Things come back to you in flashes but then you remembered what you had done.

You had fucked Frankie.

"Shit." You groaned as you scraped a hand over your face "Shit, shit, shit!!"

You grabbed one of his shirts from the wardrobe and headed down the hall, the smell of bacon pulling you into the kitchen where Frankie was standing in just some shorts. His hair was a curly mess. His neck was littered with the evidence of what you two had done last night.

Catching movement from the corner of his eye, Frank looked up to see you gingerly walking in in one of his shirts and his mouth went dry at the sight. He smiled sweetly at you as he pushed the bacon off the heat and went to pour you a mug of coffee.

"How you feeling?" He asked as he grabbed the milk and poured it into your mug, nodding when he was satisfied with the colour of your drink.

"Sore." You groaned, nodding your thanks when he handed you the drink he'd made you.

"Mmmmm." He hummed as he smirked at you, the twinkle in his eye making your stomach twist "The good kind of sore or..."

"Frankie-"

"Last night was amazing." He purred as he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close "Wanted this for so long."

"Frankie I-"

"Felt too good to tell you how I felt. I've hated watching you with all those other guys."

Your mind was suddenly assaulted with memories. His smile as he told you his deepest secret.

The night before...

"I need to find someone like you Fish." You sighed as you sipped at your beer "Someone sweet and kind that will treat me right."

"What if I could be that someone?" He asked and you perked up, looking at him in confusion.

'What?"

"What if I could be that guy for you?" He repeated, his eyes doing that puppy-dog thing that you found impossible to resist.

You don't know what came over you but as you looked at him. All dark eyes and sweetness. You decided to kiss him. He didn't respond straight away and you panicked for just a second before he was returning it, his hand threading through the hair at the base of your neck as he deepened it.

"Wanna get out of here?" You suggested and he nodded.

"Fuck yes." He practically panted.

The walk back to his place wasn't a quick one. Any opportunity he had, he'd stop you so that he could kiss you. Unable to get enough of you.

"Fuck... I have wanted this for so long." He panted between kisses "Wanted you for so long." Another firm kiss had your knees going weak "I love you..." He whispered against your lips as he rested his brow on yours.

You should have stopped it there. You should have told him that you didn't feel the same... But you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. Your body wanted him too much and you were a slave to your desires.

So you didn't say anything.

You just followed him home.

...

You were pulled from the memory by Frankie calling your name.

"Baby you okay?" He asked as he looked down at him in concern, brows pulled together.

"Frankie I... Shit, I don't know how to tell you this." You sighed as you pushed him back "Last night was a mistake."

"What?" He all but squeaked and you felt like the worst person in the world.

"It shouldn’t have happened." You sighed as you ran your free hand through your hair "I was in a bad place and I shouldn't have kissed you. We were both super drunk and it... It was a mistake."

"I told you I love you." Frankie growled, his voice taking on a tone you'd not heard from him before "I confessed to you how I've been feeling all these years and you slept with me."

"I know, but Frankie I-"

"No... You don't know." He interrupted as he turned his back to and gripped the stone countertop in front of him "I have been in love with you for years... probably since the day I met you. I told you last night that I wanted to be the guy you wanted and you kissed me... You led me to believe that you wanted the same thing."

"Frankie I'm sorry I hurt you but-"

"I think you should leave."

"What?"

"Get your shit and leave." He growled and you sobbed.

"Okay." You choked out before putting down your mug and making your way into his lounge.

Your clothes were strewn all over the place. Evidence of what you two had done all over his home. Changing back into the clothes you wore the night before you walked back into the kitchen to find Frankie sitting at the breakfast bar, staring at the new mug of coffee in his hands.

"Frankie I... I'm sorry." You sobbed "I never meant to hurt you I just-"

"Please go."

You nodded. Choking out a barely audible "Okay." Before walking to his front door and leaving. You knew this was your fault. You saw an opportunity to bury your sorrows and you took it. But at the expense of your best friend.

You had royally ruined everything.

...

2 months later...

You hadn't spoken to Frankie since that night.

You had called and texted but he had chosen to ignore your attempts to contact him. If you were being honest, you didn't blame him. You had taken advantage of his feelings for you. You had secretly known for a while that he had feelings for you and a part of you had tried so hard to feel something back but you couldn't. You didn't get why though.

He's hot. Kind. Funny.

He's the whole package and yet you still kept falling for men you knew would wind up hurting you. They were all the same. You knew going into each and every relationship that it would end with your heart broken and yet you kept dating them. You were your own worst enemy.

Then, exactly two months to the day that you had broken your best friend's heart, you'd taken a test that was going to change everything.

Ben had kept inviting you to drinks and up until now you had kept declining. This time however you had accepted. You needed to talk to Frankie and he was always at drinks. You just hoped that your going wouldn't push him to ditch them that night.

When you stepped into the bar you could hear Benny call out to you and you smiled as you make your way over, noting how both brothers were smiling up at you but Frank was looking away.

"Hey." You said as you made your way to the table and sat down on the chair Ben pulled out for you "Long time no see."

"Well, whose fault is that?" Will grumbled and you grimaced as you nodded your head.

"Touche."

"Got you a beer." Ben said as he pushed the beverage towards you.

"Oh, I'm not drinking tonight." You said as you nudged it back "Alcohol hasn't been agreeing with me lately."

Frankie snorted and you tried hard to ignore the reaction. You desperately wanted to talk to him. For him to acknowledge you but you knew that he wasn't going to do that. You had hurt him.

"So what's new with you?" Ben asked "How come you've ditched us for the last two months>"

"Had a lot going on." You answered, not a complete lie "Some stuff happened and I needed some time to deal."

"What stuff?" Will asked and you sighed.

"I lost someone." You elaborated "A friend and I miss them."

"Shit Titch, I'm sorry." Will said as he gave your arm a friendly squeeze "Anyone we know?"

"I don't really wanna talk about it." You said as you gave them a weak smile.

"Figures," Frank grumbled under his breath and you looked up at him in shock.

"What was that Fish?" Ben asked and Frankie shook his head.

"Nothing." He growled out "Need another drink."

"What's his problem?" Will asked and Ben shrugged.

"Been off for a few weeks now." Ben sighed "Think he got his heart broken."

"He was seeing someone?" You pushed and Ben shook his head.

"Dunno but I haven't seen him like this since Mel died." That statement made your stomach roll "He's been really forlorn. Doesn't wanna talk about it though. He's not the guy to kiss and tell but I think he might've been seeing someone and she ditched him."

You let out a sigh as your hand reached into your pocket and clutched the item in there. You needed to talk to Frank but you weren't sure how you were going to get him to listen to you. Little did you know, it wasn't going to be how you hoped.

You were an hour into drinks when Ben finally snapped. Each snide remark Fish made when you answered a question had him at tipping point. So in a fit of rage, he opened the can.

"What the fuck is your problem Fish?" He snapped, taking the older man by surprise "You've done nothing but make shitty remarks about Titch all evenin'... Something happen?"

"Doesn't matter." Frankie grumbled and you sighed.

"Frankie I-"

"You say you're sorry to me one more time and I'll-"

"What the fuck she got to be sorry about?" Ben growled and Fish flipped.

"She fucked me and then dumped me." He snarled. taking everyone by surprise "I confessed how I felt about her and she took advantage of me."

"Frankie can we talk about this outside for a moment."

"I don't wanna hear it." He grumbled and you felt yourself growing more agitated.

"There's something I need to talk to you about."

"I doubt it."

"Please... I need to tell you something."

"Nothing they can't hear." He spat and you lost it.

"Fine!." You pulled out the item that had been burning a hole in your pocket all evening "I'm pregnant!.. and it's yours."

Frankie's expression changed from one of anger to complete shock. Finally for the first time this evening he looked at you and what he saw broke his heart.

"I'm going to keep it. I don't expect anything from you." You finished before grabbing your coat and your bag "I think I should leave."

"Titch." Ben grabbed your wrist but you pulled it from his grasp.

"Sorry to have ruined your night."

You left then. Disappearing from the bar and leaving the three men sat there in shocked silence. Frankie stared at the test in disbelief. He was going to be a dad? And with the woman who... despite everything that had happened... He was still very much in love with.

"Fish?" Will's voice pulled him from his thoughts "You okay?"

"Yeah... Um... Just, processing I guess."

"What you gonna do?" Asked Ben and Frankie shrugged.

"Do you want this?" Will asked and Frank sobbed, nodding as he looked over at Will and then a Ben.

"I really do."

"Then you best go tell her." Ben pushed as he gave his friend's arm a friendly squeeze "I know she hurt you and I pissed as shit at her about it but you guys are gonna have a baby so you got to move past that."

Frankie nodded at Benny before grabbing the test and looking at the message on the small screen.

Pregnant

He had to see you. To talk to you but he found himself glued to the spot. What was he supposed to say? He supposed he'd know the moment he saw you. So after staring at the test for a little while longer he said his goodbyes to the brothers and left, waving down a cab when he reached the street.

Meanwhile, you were sobbing quietly to yourself as you brewed your depressing mug of decaf coffee. That was not how you had wanted to tell him. You'd wanted to confess how sorry you were and how shitty you'd been before giving him the test and telling him that something wonderful had come out of it though. You had just sat down on the couch when a knock sounded at your door. You sighed as you placed your mug down on the coffee and made your way over. Not bothering to check who it was before you opened it.

There, standing on your porch was Frankie.

"Frankie, what are you-"

"I'm in." He stated plainly as he gave you a small nod "Let's have a baby!"

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[writers-potion]

Hi. I'm writing a novel in first person and my main character has some serious trauma around swimming, but I'm not quite sure how to write that fear or that reaction they would have. also having the same problem with a lot of fear-related subjects when writing in first person. any tips? thanks! :D

Hi, thank you for the question!

As someone who has a deep fear of drowning AND of swimming, I think I can testify for that particular fear in person. But before I dive in, here are some factors to consider:

Age of your character: A child or teen or adult?

Children are more likely to show fear by expressing dislike, or even being violent/throwing tantrums when they're made to confront it. Teens may try to hide it, or build creative (sometime extreme) methods to avoid it like hell. Adults, at least mature ones, will learn to build barriers around their fears: avoiding it as much as possible, but also learning to control their reactions when they come to contact with it.

One-time event or chronic?

Another thing to consider is how the trauma came to be in the first place. Here are two traumas from my personal life:

Fear of water: I nearly drowned in a wasterfall at age 2. At age 5, one of my friends pushed me into a pool unexpectedly. Age 10, my sister made me swim to the deep side of the pool and when I stopped to take a break, I couldn't stand up. Age 13, I had a horrible swimming teacher who expected everyone to be able to swim..etc.etc. I've had multiple near-death experiences in water and after that, even after I've learnt how to swim, I'll NEVER.

Fear of elevators: I was locked inside an elevator for over an hour during a powercut. When I managed to forced the door open to escape, I found myself staring at the abyss that smelled faintly of oil. I was stuck in between floors. + Around the same time, a delivery man in the same elevator grabbed and kissed me, then ran away. A couple of days later, he tried to force his way into our apartment when I answered the door. These two event alone was enough to compel me to take the stairs for the next seven months.

Usually when a trauma has been built over time, it's difficult to see the problem rationally even when time has passed.

Traumas caused by a large, one-off event, moving away from the specific location and getting rid of the situation more or less permanently is often enough to make the person see the situation rationally. It was that particular elevator, that delivery man. It's not going to happen again. It'll remain more like a fully healed scar that tingles once now and then.

The attitude of your character. Do they want to overcome the fear, and feel frustrated/angry at themselves when they inadvertently feel scared? Or are they highly defensive? Maybe they have no mental walls built, and simply run away at the slightest hint of the feared situation.

Tips for Writing Fears

It's easier to open up to strangers. It's easier to confess a fear to someone who doesn't know your personal history, since there's less chance you'll be judged.

Simulating isn't the same as actually confronting. Your character can find themselves dreaming about being able to swim perfectly, then feel their daydream shatter when they actually try to.

Extreme tension + crashing afterward. Whenever your character is exposed to swimming, they'll be at their wit's edge, being tense and paying extreme attention to their surroundings. Once they're home, they'll simply crash like how you'd hit the bed after a long, hard day (maybe feeling body pain, constricted chest, headache, loss of appetite from the sheer exhaustion).

Overly prepared vs. Avoiding. It's one or the other. Either your character brings a safety jacket, a donut tube, a rope, snorkling equipment, etc. or they don't bring a swimsuit at all so that they can say, "I can't swim in my skinny jeans and silk shirt, can I?" and avoid it altogether.

Saying "I'm okay!" repeatedly. More to themselve than to others as a form of desperate self-assurance.

Panic. At times when your character comes dangerously close to swimming, they'll just panic and make the situation worse for themselves. For example, if they just happen to slip inside water while sitting at the edge of the pool, they'll immediately start kicking and gasping as thogh they've already drowned. It almost becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. They'll swallow water, strain all the muscles in their body, and sit extremely still covered in multiple swimming towels afterward, saying nothing and playing the moment over and over in their head.

Being nervous for the whole day if they know they have a swimming class (or something similar) later

Dreaming about drowning

Trying to learn swimming, but not progressing for months because they can't bring themselves to step out of their comfort zone (which is going to be very small)

Hope this helps! :)

[reasonablerodents]

Have you ever wanted 70 angst-laden prompts? Well, here you go, and they’re all lyrics by The Smiths, the masters of the subject. (Yeah I could have done way more but I thought 70 was probably more than enough)

They’re sorted into several catagories: Loneliness, Breakups, Longing, Love, Questions, Cruelty and Corruption, Statements, Struggling, and Sex. I also included the song names so even if you don’t know the song, you can look it up.

However, the categories are just a guide- use them however you want! Have fun!

LONELINESS

The Queen Is Dead

-Life is very long when you’re lonely.

Never Had No One Ever

-Now I’m outside your house, I’m alone.

I Know It’s Over

-If you’re so very clever, then why are you on your own tonight?

Rushholme Ruffians

-I might walk home alone/But my faith in love is still devout.

Asleep

-Sing me to sleep/I don’t want to wake up on my own anymore.

* * * * * * * * * *

BREAKUPS

I Know It’s Over

-I know it’s over, still I cling. I don’t know where else I can go.

Unhappy Birthday

-From the one you left behind.

Jeane

-We tried, and we failed.

Miserable Lie

-There’s something against us/It’s not time.

You’ve Got Everything Now

-You’ve got everything now, and what a terrible mess I’ve made of my life.

Still Ill

-Although I ended up with sore lips/It just wasn’t like the old days any more.

Stop Me If You Think You’ve Heard This One Before

-I still love you/Only slightly less than I used to

A Rush And A Push And The Land Is Ours

-Oh, but don’t mention love, I’d hate the pain of the strain all over again.

* * * * * * * * * *

LONGING

Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others

-Send me your pillow, the one that you dream on

Reel Around The Fountain

-I dreamt about you last night and I fell out of bed twice.

Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want

-So for once in my life/Let me get what I want/Lord knows, it would be the first time.

I Want The One I Can’t Have

-I want the one that I can’t have/And it’s driving me mad.

Well I Wonder

-Well I wonder, do you hear me when you sleep?/I hoarsely cry.

-Well I wonder, do you see me when we pass?/I half-die/Please keep me in mind.

How Soon Is Now?

-See, I’ve already waited too long/And now my hope is gone.

Half A Person

-Call me morbid, call me pale/I’ve spent six years on your trail.

* * * * * * * * * *

LOVE

There Is A Light That Never Goes Out

-To die by your side/Well, the pleasure and the privilege is mine.

The Hand That Rocks The Cradle

-I’ll still be by your side, for you are all that matters.

-Together we lie, together we pray.

What Difference Does It Make?

-I’d leap in front of a flying bullet for you

Hand In Glove

-No, it’s not like any other love/This one is different because it’s us.

-If they dare touch a hair on your head/I’ll fight to the last breath.

Work Is A Four-Letter Word

-If you stay, I’ll stay right beside you.

Unloveable

-I don’t have much in my life/But take it, it’s yours.

Shoplifters Of The World

-Learn to love me, assemble the ways/Now, today, tomorrow, and always.

How Soon Is Now?

-I am human and I need to be loved/Just like everybody else does.

Reel Around The Fountain

-People see no worth in you, I do.

* * * * * * * * * *

QUESTIONS

Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now

-Why do I give valuable time/To people who don’t care if I live or die?

The Boy With The Thorn In His Side

-And when you want to live, how do you start?

Miserable Lie

-What do we get for our trouble and pain?

Girlfriend in a Coma

-Do you really think she’ll pull through?

Paint a Vulgar Picture

-You could have said no, if you wanted to/You could have walked away, couldn’t you?

When Will You Accept Yourself?

-Anything is hard to find/When you will not open your eyes/When will you accept yourself?

Sweet and Tender Hooligan

-Will you free me? Will you find me?

London

-And do you think you’ve made the right decision this time?

Panic

-I wonder to myself/Could life ever be sane again?

Barbarism Begins At Home

-Why? Because of what you are.

* * * * * * * * * *

CRUELTY AND CORRUPTION

Frankly, Mr Shankly

-It pays my way and it corrodes my soul.

Miserable Lie

-You have corrupted my innocent mind.

These Things Take Time

-And you gave me something that I won’t forget too soon.

Vicar In A Tutu

-Get your vile soul dry cleaned.

Sweet and Tender Hooligan

-And he said that he’d never, never do it again/And of course he won’t, not until the next time.

What Difference Does It Make?

-Heavy words are so lightly thrown.

I Don’t Owe You Anything

-You owe me something/Repay me now.

I Won’t Share You

-Has the Perrier gone straight to my head?/Or is life sick and cruel instead?

* * * * * * * * * *

STATEMENTS

These Things Take Time

-You will leave me behind.

I Know It’s Over

-It takes strength to be gentle and kind.

Rubber Ring

-But they were the only ones who ever stood by you.

Back To The Old House

-There’s too many bad memories.

Girl Afraid

-I’ll never make that mistake again.

* * * * * * * * * *

STRUGGLING

What’s The World?

-I’m going under/You can feel them pulling me down.

I Keep Mine Hidden

-Hate, love and war/Force emotions to the fore/But not for me, of course/I keep mine hidden.

You Just Haven’t Earned It Yet, Baby

-You must suffer and cry for a longer time/You just haven’t earned it yet, baby.

That Joke Isn’t Funny Anymore

-It’s too close to home/And it’s too near the bone.

Well I Wonder

-Gasping, but somehow still alive/This is the fierce last stand of all I am.

You’ve Got Everything Now

-I’ve seen you smile, but I’ve never really heard you laugh.

I Started Something I Couldn’t Finish

-I started something/And now I’m not too sure.

Sheila Take A Bow

-How can someone so young sing words so sad?

* * * * * * * * * *

SEX

Handsome Devil

-And I would like to give you/What I think you’re asking for.

-I crack the whip/And you skip/But you deserve it.

-And let me get your head/On the conjugal bed.

Pretty Girls Make Graves

-Give in to lust, give up to lust.

Stretch Out And Wait

-What I do know is we’re here and it’s now/So stretch out and wait.

Ask

-So if there’s something you’d like to try/Ask me, I won’t say no, how could I?

Reel Around The Fountain

-15 minutes with you, oh, I wouldn’t say no.

[lizzieforlife]

Behind enemy lines|| ch 1: negotiate

FIRST POST!

marvel x fem reader (angst)

warnings: angst

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm running, panting out of breath as I try to escape from the bullets being fired behind me. I don't know what to do. I'm scared, lost, alone.

"Y/n Stop running and this will be a lot easier" someone from the helicopter above says through a loudspeaker

The voice from the helicopter sends a chill down my spine, but I can't stop running. I have to keep going. Bullets whiz past me as I desperately zigzag through the dense forest, trying to throw off their aim, another one just barely misses my left cheek and lodges itself into a tree. For a split second I notice the red feathers on the object—it's not a bullet—it's a tranquilizer.

"This is your last warning! Stand down immediately or we will open fire!" The voice booms again, this time more menacing.

Sweat pours down my face as I gasp for air, my lungs burning. My legs scream in protest, but I push forward. I have no idea who these people are or what they want from me. All I know is that I can't let them capture me. 

I don't know why all of this is even happening. One moment I'm sitting at a restaurant with a friend, then the next I'm being chased through the woods.

A searing pain rips through my back and I stumble, crying out. They've shot me. I clutch the wound, my hand coming away slick with blood. Black spots dance before my eyes as waves of dizziness threaten to pull me under.

"She's been hit! Move in and apprehend the target!"

Gritting my teeth, I force myself up and break into a staggered run once more. Tears stream down my cheeks as each step sends bolts of agony through the bullet wound. The metallic taste of blood coats my mouth. How much farther can I go?

Another gunshot cracks through the air and a blinding pain lances through my calf. I crumple to the ground with a guttural scream as the world tilts violently around me. Rough hands seize me, wrenching my arms behind my back as I thrash weakly.

"No! Please, I don't know what you want! Just let me go!" I plead desperately.

"Save it for the interrogation," a gruff voice growls in my ear. "You've led us on one hell of a chase."

Darkness begins creeping in at the edges of my vision. The last thing I see is a team of armed figures in tactical gear closing in before everything goes black.

...

I jolt awake with a gasp, my body drenched in cold sweat. Where am I? Blinking rapidly, I take in my surroundings—a small room with sleek metal walls and a single reinforced door. I'm lying in a hospital bed with thin sheets.

My chest feels tight as I sit up, the pain in my back and leg flaring instantly, reminding me of everything that has happened. My hand instinctively goes to my side, where the bullet had hit, but instead of blood, i feel bandages. My breathing hitches as i look down at myself.

The clothes weren't the same jeans and shirt I was wearing before, no. These were unfamiliar, an all black uniform that was tight and restricting. My heart pounds in my chest as I take in the rest of the room. It's empty, cold, and impersonal. There were no windows, just that single reinforced door. 

A camera blinks in the corner, its lens trained directly on me.

I scramble to swing my legs over the side of the bed, but as soon as my feet hit the floor, a sharp pain shoots through my calf. My leg gives out, and I barely catch myself on the edge of the bed. I bite back a scream, clenching my teeth so hard I feel they just might crack.

This isn't happening. This CAN'T be happening.

The door hissed open and I whipped my head towards the sound. Two men in black tactical gear step in, their faces covered by masks. 

"Subject is awake," one of them says into an earpiece. His voice was cold and it made me wince."We're bringing her to the holding area."

Holding area? My pulse races as panic claws at my chest. "Wait," I manage, my voice trembling. "Where am I? What do you want from me?"

They ignore me, stepping closer. One of them grabs my arm, his grip like iron, and I flinch. "Don't touch me!" I snap, yanking my arm away, but it's no use. He grabs me again, tighter this time, and hauls me to my feet. My injured leg buckles beneath me, and I cry out as white-hot pain explodes through my body.

"Move," the other man barks, shoving me forward.

I stumble, barely catching myself on the wall, and they drag me out of the room. The hallway is just as cold and sterile as the room was, with walls that seem to stretch endlessly in both directions. My bare feet slap against the metal floor as I limp along, my breathing ragged.

"Please," I say, my voice cracking. "I don't know what you think I know, but you've got the wrong person."

Neither of them responds. My mind races, trying to put together how I got here. The forest, the helicopter, the bullets. I can still hear the gunshots echoing in my ears. 

And then I glance at the guards uniform, a blood red octopuses with a circle forming around it. I know it. I've seen it, but I couldn't believe it. Hydra. 

Oh God. Hydra.

I thought we'd dismantled them. I thought they were done for. I thought of the Avengers. my team—had taken care of this.

My team. The words sting, and I push the thought away. They're not my team anymore. I left. I had to leave.

The thought of them sends a fresh wave of pain through my chest. I never even told anyone why I left. They were my friends, and I just disappeared. They probably hate me now.

The guards stop in front of a heavy metal door, and one of them punches in a code on the keypad. The door slides open with a hiss, revealing a small room with a single chair bolted to the floor. Restraints dangle from the armrests. My stomach twists violently.

"No," I whisper, trying to back away. "No, no, no—"

The guards shove me inside, and I stumble, barely staying upright. One of them forces me into the chair while the other secures the restraints around my wrists and ankles. I thrash against them, but it's useless. The straps are too tight.

"Please," I beg, my voice breaking. "You don't have to do this. I don't know anything!"

The guards step back without a word, and the door seals shut behind them, leaving me alone. I pull at the restraints until my wrists are burned with pain, tears streaming down my face.

The sound of footsteps echoes outside the door, and my breath catches. A moment later, it slides open again, and a man walks in. He's tall and thin, with slicked-back hair and a sharp suit that looks out of place in this room. His smile is thin and humorless, and his eyes glow with something that makes my skin crawl.

"Ah," he says. "You're awake. Good. That makes things easier."

I glare at him, my hands balling into fists despite the restraints. "Who are you? What do you want?"

He tilts his head, as if amused by my defiance. "You don't remember me?" He steps closer, his hands clasped behind his back. "I suppose it's been a while since you and your little team thought you destroyed Hydra. But I remember you, Y/n. I've been waiting a long time for this."

His thick Russian accent makes my blood run cold. He knows my name. He knows who I am.

"I don't know anything," I say, my voice shaking. "Whatever you're looking for, I can't help you."

His smile widens, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Oh, I think you can. You see, we're very interested in the Avengers. Their plans, their weaknesses. And who better to provide that information than one of their own?"

"I'm not with them anymore," I snapped. "I left. I don't know anything."

His expression hardens. "We'll see about that."

He nods to someone behind me, and before I can react, a jolt of electricity courses through my body. I scream, the pain is blinding. When it finally stops, I'm slumped in the chair, my breaths coming in shallow gasps.

"Shall we try again?" he says, his tone cold. "Tell me what you know, and this will all be over."

I lift my head, glaring at him through the tears in my eyes. "Fuck you..."

His smile returns. "Oh, my dear, you'll wish you hadn't said that."

Another wave of electricity rips through me, and I bite my lip so hard I taste blood. My whole body trembles as the current finally stops, leaving me gasping for air. The man (I still don't know his name) circles my chair.

"You're being quite difficult," he says, checking his watch as if this is just a minor inconvenience in his day. "I had hoped we could be reasonable about this."

"I already told you," I manage between ragged breaths, "I don't know anything. I've been gone for years."

He stops in front of me, his eyes gleaming. "Ah yes, your mysterious disappearance. Tell me, does your mother still live in that lovely little house on Maple Street?"

My heart stops. "What?"

"Number 247, isn't it? The blue one with the white trim? She's always tending to those beautiful rose bushes in the front yard."

"Don't-" The words catch in my throat as panic claws at my chest. "Leave her out of this!"

"That depends entirely on you, my dear." He leans down, his face inches from mine. "Your mother's safety is in your hands now. All you have to do is cooperate."

Tears burn in my eyes as memories of Mom flood my mind. Her warm smile, the way she always smells like vanilla and coffee, how she used to wait up for me after missions even though I told her not to. I left to protect her, to keep her safe from all of this. And now...

"I..." My voice breaks. "I can't tell you anything. I don't know their plans anymore. I don't even know where their new base is."

He straightens up, straightening his already perfect tie. "Perhaps we're approaching this from the wrong angle." He starts pacing again, each click of his shoes against the floor making me flinch. "You see, while your old information might be... outdated, you could always get us new intelligence."

My stomach drops as I realize what he's suggesting. "No. No way."

"Think about it," he continued as if I hadn't spoken. "You return to the Avengers, tell them some sob story about where you've been. They'll welcome you back with open arms, they're sentimental like that. And then..."

"You want me to spy for you?" The words taste like poison in my mouth. "I won't do it. I won't betray them like that."

"No?" He pulls out his phone, tapping the screen a few times before holding it up. It's a live video feed of my mom's house. She's right there, watering her roses just like he said. My chest tightens painfully.

"You seem to be under the impression that you have a choice in this matter, dear." His voice is ice cold now. "Either you agree to our terms, or something very unfortunate might happen to dear mother."

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to think through the fog of pain and fear. The team would never trust me again if they found out. But my Mom... I can't let anything happen to her. I can't. She's already been through too much.

"Tick tock," he says, putting the phone away. "What's it going to be?"

A sob catches in my throat. "Fine," I whisper, the word feeling like acid on my tongue. "Fine, I'll do it. Just... just promise you won't hurt her."

His smile makes my skin crawl. "Excellent decision. You see? Cooperation makes everything so much simpler." He nods to someone behind me again, I wait for another shock to pass through me but this time there's no electricity. Instead, the restraints click open.

"We'll get you cleaned up and briefed on the details of your mission," he says as I rub my raw wrists. "I trust you understand what's at stake if you try anything... unwise?"

I nod numbly, my whole body feeling heavy with shame and defeat. "I understand."

"Perfect. Welcome to Hydra, Agent Y/N."

The words ring in my head as two guards help me to my feet. As they lead me out of the room, I can't help but think about what I'm about to do, about how everyone's gonna react when I show up after years of silence. Will they be happy to see me? Angry? Suspicious?

They should be suspicious. I'm about to betray everything we fought for, everything we believed in. But what choice do I have? My Mom's life is worth more than my loyalty, more than my conscience.

I just hope that someday, if they ever find out the truth, they'll understand why I did it. And maybe I can find a way to warn them without putting my Mom at risk.

But for now, I have to play my part. I have to become the very thing we spent years fighting against.

I never wanted any of this.

The guards stop at another door, this one leading to what looks like a medical bay. My leg throbs with every step,

they help me onto an exam table, I close my eyes and try to remember the last time I saw everyone. We were all so happy then, celebrating about something I couldn't quite remember. If only I'd known it would be the last time.

Now I'm going to see them again, but everything will be different. I'm not their teammate anymore. I'm the bad guy.

And the worst part? They won't even know it.

A doctor in a white coat examines my wounds like I'm some kind of specimen rather than a person. I wince as she changes the bandages on my back and leg.

"The bullets missed any major arteries," she says, not to me but to the guard standing by the door. "She'll be combat-ready within a week."

Combat-ready. The words make me want to throw up. I'm twenty-three now, not the same eighteen-year-old who used to charge into battle without a second thought—

"Here," the doctor hands me some pills, pulling me out of my thoughts. "For the pain."

I take them without question. At this point, what's the worst they could do to me that they haven't already threatened? 

After the medical check, they escorted me to another room, this one actually has a bed and a small bathroom attached. It's not exactly luxury accommodation, but it's better than the cell I woke up in. My 

new prison, I guess.

"Get cleaned up," one of the guards says. "The Director wants to see you in an hour."

The door locks behind them with a heavy click. I limp to the bathroom and catch my reflection in the mirror. God, I look awful. My face is pale and drawn, dark circles under my eyes making me look dead inside and more vulnerable than I feel. There's dried blood matted in my hair from when I hit the ground.

The hot water from the shower stings my wounds, but I welcome the pain. It helps me think clearer. As I wash away the blood and dirt, my mind races through possible scenarios. Maybe I could warn the team somehow, leave them clues... but no, Hydra would be watching my every move. One wrong step and my mom pays the price.

Mom. My throat tightens as I think about her. Does she even know I'm missing? Does she still wait up at night, hoping I'll finally come home? I left to protect her from exactly this kind of situation, and now I've put her in more danger than ever.

I punch the shower wall, immediately regretting it as pain shoots through my knuckles. "Stupid," I mutter to myself. "So fucking stupid."

————

When I step out of the bathroom, there's a new set of clothes waiting on the bed, black tactical gear similar to what the guards wear, just less armor. The sight of it makes my skin crawl, but I put it on anyway. It fits perfectly, which means they've been planning this for a while.

Just as I got done, the guards returned to escort me to the Director's office. Every step sends shooting pains through my leg, but I force myself not to limp. I won't give them the satisfaction of seeing me weak.

We walked for what felt like forever before stopping in front of a shiny silver elevator. One of the guards reached out and pressed the button, and the doors slid open with a soft ding. Before I could even step inside, another guard shoved me forward, muttering something about me being too slow. I mumbled a curse under my breath, but they either didn't hear me or didn't care.

The silence inside the elevator was deafening. I tried not to look at the guards, keeping my eyes on the numbers lighting up above the doors. They ticked up slowly, floor by floor, and I counted them in my head. Ten. We stopped at ten.

The Director's office is different from the rest of the base, it's actually decorated, with dark wood furniture and books lining the walls. He's sitting behind a massive desk when we enter, still in that perfect looking suit. 

"Ah, Y/N. Much better," he says, gesturing for me to sit in one of the chairs across from him. The guards stay by the door. "I trust the medical team took good care of you?"

I don't answer, just stare at him with what I hope is a defiant expression. Just looking at him makes my blood boil.

He sighs, like I'm a difficult child. "We're going to be working together now, Y/N. A little cooperation would make things much easier."

"Just tell me what you want me to do," I say through gritted teeth.

"Straight to business then." He pulls out a tablet and slides it across the desk to me. "This is your cover story. Memorize it. As far as the Avengers will know, you've spent the last couple years doing humanitarian work in remote areas, helping people affected by the avengers. It explains your absence and your lack of contact."

I pick up the tablet, scanning through the detailed backstory they've created. It's good, technically true in some parts, which will make it more believable. They've even included photos of me in various locations, obviously photoshopped but convincing enough.

"When do I leave?"

"Tomorrow morning. We'll drop you near the compound and you'll make your way there on foot, looking appropriately distressed." He smiles that cold smile again. "Don't worry about the security systems. We have ways of ensuring you'll make it inside."

My hands clench around the tablet. "And what exactly do you want me to find out?"

"Everything. Their protocols, their weaknesses, their plans. But most importantly..." He leans forward, his eyes gleaming. "We want to know about their new recruits. The ones they've been training in secret."

New recruits? That's news to me, but I keep my face neutral. "How often do I report back?"

"You'll have a contact in the city, details are in the tablet. Weekly meetings, more if you have urgent information." He stands up, walking around the desk to stand next to me.

"And Y/N? Remember...we'll be watching. One wrong move, one hint to your old friends about what's really going on, and your mother..."

"I get it," I snap, standing up despite the pain in my leg. "I won't mess up."

"See that you don't." He nods to the guards. "Get her something to eat, then make sure she studies that cover story. Tomorrow's a big day."

As they lead me back to my room, my mind is already working overtime. If there really are new recruits, that means the team is expanding. New faces I won't know, new dynamics to navigate. And somewhere in all of this, I have to figure out how to feed Hydra enough information to keep Mom safe without actually helping them destroy everything.

The guards bring me food, actually decent food, not prison slop and leave me alone with the tablet. I spend hours memorizing every detail of my fake life for the past couple of years, all while trying to ignore the voice in my head that keeps whispering "traitor."

When I finally lie down to sleep, I can't help but wonder what everyone back at the compound is doing right now. Do they ever talk about me? Did they look for me when I disappeared? Will they see through my lies tomorrow?

I guess I'll find out soon enough.

Rolling onto my side, I stare at the wall until my eyes burn. Tomorrow, I go home. But it won't really be home anymore, will it? It'll be just another mission, another lie.

I close my eyes, but sleep doesn't come. All I can see is their faces, my once friends, my family, and all I can think about is how I'm about to betray them all.

I tell myself that they'll understand. But deep down, I know they never will. And maybe they shouldn't.

Because tomorrow, I will become what we fought against.

Tomorrow, I will become the enemy.

———————

Word count: 3670

Thank you for reading the first chapter of this story. I really appreciate it! Hope you are all doing well. This is my first post here so please be kind :)

A/N: I am new to tumbler so I apologize in advance if my post are a bit messy, I’m currently trying to make it so my post are more organized whenever I do upload. Ty!

[aching-tummies]

"My tummy hurts" you say as we slowly walk down the street arm in arm. " I know baby but just a little longer and will be there" I say as I move my hand down to rub your swollen bloated belly. We are on our way to meet my boss at an office party. They said to bring your family and unfortunately when I interviewed for the job I nervously said that you were pregnant (a lie of course) and I needed this position because of it. Now 8 months later they want to see us together and theres only one way to get you looking that pregnant that fast. So here we are walking into the office arm in arm with your tummy stuffed to the max and swollen enough to pull of being pregnant. "Just follow my lead and if they offer you more food just try and eat what you can"

Wow...this is an interesting scenario. I don't think I've done preg or preg-adjacent stuff on here. Honestly, preg-stuff is low on my list of things. First time for anything, I guess ^^ A very creative scenario ^^ I don't know if I did it justice here. Honestly, I wanted to write more...but I kept getting stuck on some scenes and I kind of feel like I'm being very crabby to Anon in this and I guess I couldn't hold the suspension of disbelief at the sit-com-y premise of this scenario, as enjoyable as it was. Thank you for sending this one in! It was super interesting and hilarious and I enjoyed writing it ^^

Trigger warnings: fake pregnancy with mentions of "failed to take" pregnancy. I know that pregnancies that don't result in a healthy baby afterwards can be a touchy subject in real life and I don't want to upset anyone. I have never experienced it myself, but I've known people who have and I do not wish that on anyone or wish for anyone to have to re-live such moments. If pregnancy-related things (including non-successful ones) is upsetting to you, feel free to skip and not read the stuff under the cut.

“Ugh...m-my tummy hurts.”

“I know, baby, but just a little longer and we will be there.” You rub gently at my swollen stomach over my dress. As good as the rubs feel, I'm angry at you and quickly smack your hand away with a glare.

“Nnngh...you owe me big-time for this, sweetie.” My annoyed tone completely counters the affectionate pet-name and the sickly grumble from my belly seems to come on-cue as though agreeing with me. “Ugh...you already lied once...why couldn't you have lied again, moron?” I huff and sit on a nearby bench in the foyer of the venue, rubbing my distended tummy.

“I panicked, love. I'm sorry.”

“There's no way this'll work.” I nudge at the slight bulge of my belly.

My stomach is firm and definitely bulged out enough to make wearing jeans extremely uncomfortable. Unfortunately, that's what I've got on beneath a flow-y, high-waisted, knee-length dress. In order to make my belly really pop, I have on a pair of denim booty-shorts, belted just under the slight curve of my full belly to prop it up as well as to inhibit digestion. We need this budge to last the whole night, after all. It's excruciating, but the sheer stupidity of my partner and his harebrained plots is a close second to the amount of pain my belly is in.

“It's fine. First pregnancies are usually small, right? No one will know..” You crouch in front of me, squeezing my budging belly between your palms, sliding them around my bulge as though fluffing up a throw pillow. You're also checking to ensure that I haven't sneakily loosened the belt under my dress. I glare at you, gripping your wrists tightly in a silent threat.

Try as we did, we couldn't get my belly any bigger than this. You didn't remember your initial lie until someone called to remind you of the event and that everyone was excited to meet your 'expecting' wife. Honestly, if I had known that taking part in such a ridiculous, sit-com-y plot was going to be a part of our marriage, I'd probably have thought twice about saying 'I do'.

“How are we going to explain it when there isn't a baby in a month or two? You should have dropped the lie early on, said the pregnancy didn't take or something. It's going to be much harder to explain now.” I nudge at my belly and wince, having poked too hard at my achy tummy.

“A little late for that now, isn't it?” You hiss, not wanting to be reminded of your web of lies.

“Anon! Welcome! Is that your wife? Don't get up, no need to stand on ceremony—lovely to meet you!” A man in a suit jumps in, startling you as you jump up, putting some unwanted pressure on the crest of my belly as you rise. I hiss and can't help but curl up as my stomach gripes at the pressure.

“Sir! T-Thank you, sir! Y-Yes. T-This is m-my wife—m-my very pregnant wife, sir!” I subtly stomp on your foot, telling you 'obvious-lie-is-obvious'.

“May I?” Your boss hovers his hand over my belly. I flash an angry look your way. Of course, the stupid, stupid phenomenon where everyone and their mother starts pawing at the pregnant lady's belly.

“O-Of course, sir!” My rage against you is almost tangible as you allow your boss to rub my belly, shrugging over his shoulder as though to say 'I panicked'--story of our lives, I see.

I bite back a snarl as your boss palms at my belly. We spent forty minutes rubbing my stomach after stuffing me silly to ensure we got as much gas out of my guts as we could. We needed it to be packed, stuffed solid and not likely to deflate throughout the night.

“My, my—what an active child!” Your boss leaves his palm on the crest of my belly as he makes some small talk with you, completely ignoring the seething lady he has his hand on.

After the boss has landed a couple of solid pats on my tummy, I nudge his hand off of my stomach.

“Sorry, my late Cynthia and I always wanted to try for a baby.” Your boss's eyes grow misty at the memory. “Where are my manners? Terrance Floyd, at your service—feel free to call me 'Terry'.” Terrance offers a slight bow, retracting his hand from my belly. “When you're ready. Feel free to enter Conference Room B. The party is in there. I've been told that there will be a champagne tower—no pressure to partake, my dear. There are plenty of non-alcoholic alternatives available if you ask the bar-tender or waitstaff. I hope you enjoy the party.” With another subtle bow, Terrance Floyd leaves us in peace to go greet another guest that has just entered the building.

Once Terrance leaves, I direct my burning gaze squarely on you. If looks could kill, you'd be dead a billion times over with just that look.

“I panicked!” You exclaim. “I get that you're mad—but we needed me to have this job!”

“Well, stop panicking. Make something up 'cuz you seem to have a lot of experience with that. I'm not going to sit here and let everyone and their father paw at my stomach all night.” I rub my stomach, mentally cursing Terrance Floyd as the achy cramping in my belly intensifies.

Digestion was already stalled thanks to the ridiculous glut of food we managed to cram into my belly in the three hours we had between the call and leaving the house. The belt was cinched as an added layer of insurance, in case moving around somehow managed to kick-start digestion. My stomach's been trying and failing for digestion, convulsing painfully ever since we left the car and began the walk into the venue. Terrance's palming did me no favours and he no doubt felt the intense cramping of my belly under his palm and attributed that to the fake baby moving around.

“He's my boss!”

“And I'm your wife. Better think fast or we'll be adding an 'ex' to that.”

“Anon! And Eitee? We've heard so much about you! Are you coming in? Terry just said it's Conference Room B.” A bubbly, lady flounces over to where we are, plopping down next to me on the bench. I bite back a cross between a snarl and a moan as her action jostles my upset belly. I can already tell that her cheery attitude is going to grate on my nerves. Her partner strolls along behind her, stopping next to Anon.

“Hello! I'm Greg. Anon and I work in the same department. That's my wife, Bebe. Bebe—reign it in a bit.”

“Hi, I'm Bebe! Gosh, your dress is so cute! I love the color on you. I'd have gone for a bright yellow. I guess maternity wear is limited? Oh gosh—right, you're pregnant! You must be so excited! Have you thought of names yet?” Despite her husband's admonishment, Bebe's mouth is going a mile a minute.

She's an animated conversationalist—if you can call one-person speaking a conversation--talking with her hands and her whole body. She's like something straight out of a 90s cartoon, moving this way and that, facing one way and then another, hands clapping to her cheeks or mouth every time she gasps at some new statement she utters. She also doesn't have the same courtesy your boss had, her hands have already slapped themselves onto my belly about three times during her monologue.

“Uhm...Bebe—it's nice that you're friendly and all. My wife...uhm...she doesn't really like being touched so if you could...uhm.” You stutter, nervous under the force of my glare.

“Yes, Bebe. I'm sorry, I really don't like being touched.”

“Oh? I'm sorry! Is it Braxton Hicks? I heard it can happen!” Once again, Bebe's going a mile a minute, though I save 'Braxton Hicks' for later, in case I want to beat a hasty retreat from the party. Despite being told, Bebe's hands still find their way onto my belly more than a couple of times.

“How about we head in? The sooner we get started, the sooner all of this will be over.” I mutter, shooting a glare at you.

“You don't like parties, Eitee?” Bebe's tone takes on a bit of hurt and disbelief, like she can't fathom the idea of someone that doesn't like parties.

I gesture at my belly, hoisting myself up and placing a hand against my back to help with hefting the load (coincidentally, it's also a posture many pregnant women adopt). I gesture at my protruding belly.

“Kind of hard to party with a seven pound bowling ball in my stomach. Can't drink, can't be around smoking people, can't exactly dance in this state. If it weren't for my darling being so desperate to prove to his colleagues that he managed to score at least once, I'd be at home trying to decide between a hot bath, a nap, or whatever twisted snack combination this little one demands we try.” I add the last one on for good measure, but the thought of eating anything at all makes my stomach quake uneasily.

Greg chuckles. “Yeah, he's really been talking you up at the office. Most of the interns think he's bragging and half of them think he's bluffing.”

As much as I hate you for tonight, the idea that you've been bragging about me is touching.

The four of us make our way to Conference Room B. It's one of those meet and mingle parties. Lots of open space, a bar, tables full of finger foods and waitstaff dressed to the nines carrying more finger foods on platters and offering them to the guests. At the centre of the room is a seven foot champagne tower, like Terrance mentioned.

One of the waitstaff saunters over, offering a platter of something on a cracker to the four of us. Greg and Bebe take one each, with Bebe squealing and chattering on and on about the flavours. You take one and give me a look but one glance at the platter makes me feel sick to my stomach and I wave off the chance to try it. You frown at me as the waitstaff leaves.

I grip your hand tightly as my stomach convulses sharply at the sight of all the food. As stuffed as I am, even the idea of a single bite of any of it makes me fear I'll puke, burst, or both.

“That was rude.” You hiss at me. I match your glare, jabbing at my drum-tight belly.

“When I puke, not if, I'm gonna aim it squarely on you, bozo.” I hiss right back.

[professorlaytonpuzzlingprofessor]

Big Climb, Big Fall

Is… is this thing on? Can you hear me?

  Statement of… Jean Descolauch, regarding an experience with… the falling titan.

Subject recording directly, uhm. On his own. With only this tape recorder as company. Huh.

  […Statement begins.]

  I think I have to introduce myself, don’t I? I‘m not quite sure who I am. I am one of many Descoles, I am the only Leek… I think. I am however living with my fiancé, that‘s what’s sure, and… there are plans of a wedding, but I‘m not sure how well that will go on with these recent events.

  I suppose it all started with that godforsaken book. Ex Altiora, it read. I figured out that much in the meantime. I had it with me that day, you know. I was planning on inquiring Hershel further about it. I don’t know what compelled me to act as I did, but- it- the book never reached Hershel. I threw it away. I threw it in the Thames.

I can’t even remember why. Maybe I finally began to distrust He- maybe I just had hoped the ozone smell would fade. But well, the book was washed away, the smell stayed, and that’s when the real trouble began.

I went along my day, finished my errands, and soon was set to head home. Then, there he was. A man appeared behind me. I‘m sure he wasn’t there before. I assure you- I‘m absolutely certain! I‘d have seen him on my way, I‘d have noticed and- well this is no matter now. He was there from one moment to the next one. Immediately, he grabbed my shoulder, leaving me no time to react, and sending… something like an electric charge through my body. I jumped and must’ve dropped my groceries, but the man did not let go. I finally got a look at him. He looked so… ordinary. Like any man you‘d see on the street. Any man you‘d overlook on the street. The look in his eyes, however… I don’t think I‘ll forget it. Like pure horror…. like he‘d seen the end of times.

I remember his words. It’s Eternity, he said. It’s Eternity up there. I hastily shook his hand off my shoulder, still distraught by the touch and I think I left him standing there to just, you know, run off, leave the situation to never think of it again.

  But for some reason, I stumbled.

    And then, suddenly 

    I‘m

        Falling

            A rapid shift in climate, a sudden loss of orientation.

And the pressure. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. Up and down were lost.

  There were only the clouds. 

  Grey, stormy clouds, as far as I could see. A harsh contrast to the violent sun of before. I kept falling- further and further, for endlessly long and ridiculously short. Time was gone, washed away by the dull grey that surrounded me.

  The adrenaline that filled me at first quickly washed of, replaced by a dreadful panic that did not allow me to think.

I hadn’t even noticed the lightning at first.

  I tensed, I tried to breathe. Blinding beams of light danced around me, appeared from the clouds and disappeared just as quickly as they came.

    Sometimes the light would come close enough to scorch my coat, but the fall would not allow a flame.

      And it was all so incredibly loud.

        I could almost make out words.

    We are one thing!

  Not afraid that it‘ll kill us!

    A horrible dance, a taunting song, a taunting song at my cost.

And it went on.

  And on.

    Join us, they sang. Chase the fall!

    A song in my ears. I felt lost. I felt loved. I felt.

      For Eternity!

        And I did. I joined them. I had nothing left to lose, after all.

    I suppose I reached out with my hand, because the light immediately reached back.

  Lightning, light my way, and so on.

    Have you ever been struck by lightning? No. No, of course not. 

You see, that’s the funny thing about pain. Once you risk it, you never expect it to be as bad. Until it actually strikes you.

  Would you like to know of this pain? Why am I asking. You wouldn’t let me leave this room if I didn’t tell you.

    It’s white, it’s cold, and yet it’s so very hot. Imagine being burned, being stung, being poisoned, all at once. From the inside out. 

  You want to scream, you want to cry, you want to hide away from it, but there is nowhere to go. It’s only you and the three hundred million volts of energy, clawing and biting its way through you, until there is nothing left to claw and bite through and you get tossed aside like an unwanted toy.

    In the brief moment before the electricity reached my brains to completely shut me down, I… I think I saw a figure through the clouds. 

  Blay?

          When I came to, I was back on earthly grounds. 

  I tried to get up, I suppose. I also suppose that I failed. 

Everything was hurting. Everything was numb. It still is.

    A horrible ache in my hand. My arm, hanging limp at my side.

My coat, burned to pieces.

  A lavender mark, decorating my fingers and spreading further and further up my limb.

    But the solid ground beneath me was all that mattered.

      [Statement ends…]

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary184

3/17-18/2024

sunday - monday

off tomorrow.

and my gf gets off but i need to go to bed early cuz i work 9 am tuesday. but that's okay cuz she's in a similar position i think, because of her thesis defense. i hope that goes okay. it's worrying a little i guess, thinking now, because doesn't our future depend on that a bit? how strange things are arranged, why is it our lives can come down to such small things in the hands of others, others who must assume things are not so dire, to remain sane. precarity has to be ignored as much as it must be invoked to keep us in line. this falls into the reading today.

mostly he began getting into discipline, which almost made me cry, the observation of the little things, tiniest details of our selves, details of the goings on of society/sociality, what is ongoing, at molecular scale. he quote napoleon's desire and need to know all the goings on, the little things. a quote:

"a meticulous observation of detail, and at the same time a political awareness of these small things (small events, habits, small tasks which build in greatness, the routine, and more), for the control and use of men, emerge through the classical age bearing with them a whole set of techniques, a whole corpus of methods and knowledge, descriptions, plans, and data. and from such trifles, no doubt, the man of modern humanism was born."

and prior to this a whole quoting of jean baptiste de la salle, about the necessity of these reflections on the minute and everyday. foucault adds to this:

"the meticulousness of the regulations, the fussiness of the inspections, the supervision of the smallest fragment of life and of the body will soon provide, in the context of the school, the barracks, the hospital or the workshop, a laicized content, an economic or technical rationality for this mystical calculus of the infinitesimal and the infinite."

laicized is a very good word, it means secularized roughly. meaning that the domain of the infinite, and of the soul, of self reflection, the domain of isolation in the prison and the necessity of individuation and creation of the humanist subject who acts rationally, and must be responded to rationally, and so on, is now beyond god, even. god is dead, it becomes domain and rule of not a sovereign but instead power multiplied and invisible by its facets and technologies. interesting and terrifying.

i will take issue with something i said the other day, i described the law as naturing itself, and its responses not being 'reactions' although i feel like exactly what i described essentially would be a reaction, but i won't cede that there is nuance to how it behaves. it is by being a reaction though, that it takes on a natural character perhaps. but it s a reaction of trees to wind, one supposes or feels, though its character as a force and what it really produces is a reactionary and fascistic pulsion.

the reason this reading made me feel so bad, or sad, i guess, was just the sense of pain, in part, seeing people approach the little things with wonder, trying to examine and appreciate, it is sad, i guess i see myself there. the little things not being 'little pleasures' or some other sentimentalism but incremental work, that kind of thing, productivity which mounts, tiny pieces of progress, i don't think the point is to argue against such things, it doesn't feel that way, but instead what foments this examination of one's details and the details of what surrounds us and how they work ultimately, again, a fussiness of supervision, management, essentially, predicted here is the necessity / arrival of the hall monitor world we are currently in, and the ways surveillance has eclipsed the control society. nothing is ever lost or shed, the sovereign is still inside of our bodies, as is the chain of ideology which limits and potentiates, modulates, our drives and how to utilize them, even the question/quest to utilize, mobilize, and in what order, how our limbs ought to move, what repetitions, measurements of time, this kind of thing. the world is secularized but it keeps these spiritual pulsions which manage/produce an economically desirable outcome. the guilty worker who is slow, confess in apology to your boss, admit to the officer, and on and on.

it's interesting how he gets to the barracks, the military, and schools. it's crazy that every chapter of this book gets better and better.

he says some other interesting things, one is that discipline, this is obvious i suppose, and something you may feel but not articulate as well as he, it is how i felt reading it, that discipline increases the effectiveness of body (and likely, eventually, intent, in historical record (or perhaps not later, it is about repetition not of just tasks but also of moral rights, in the case of prisons)), in labor, in all submissions, but it also decreases resistance, an increase in aptitude for labor, an aptitude to listen, an aptitude for force, but the force cannot go in the other direction, it is strictly guided, even when hands are not on the body, when there is no chain, a discipline of posture, this kind of thing.

another interesting thing is the three stages he has gone through, as he gets to the birth of prisons proper, now at the stage of the barracks and their intermingling with schools and hospitals as staging grounds for many of the ideas that would be used in prison, and also matrices of information collection, even factory towns are talked of here, of management and data, the minute and the way it enables individualization and attendance to these individuals, it's interesting to follow his question of how this became the prevailing system, beyond the sovereign and then the representational punishments which sought to show all, but not as spectacles, but instead images to haunt, to show the strength of law as natural response, the reformer's dreams to illustrate constantly the fates of traitors, in chain gangs laboring, things of that nature.

the reading has me thinking, or maybe thinking against the regular assumptions re: management and so on, or to greater depths what the meaning of say, where i work is, what the building itself it means, its construction, could be a starting point, an interesting thing to tease out, there are essentially 3 layers to it, the first layer is the forward facing interior, and then, the areas where the workers dwell and customers do not belong, where food is made and where trash is taken, where stock is held, many workers only spend time in these regions. the third layer is a threshold region where it seems maybe only cleaners and technicians really dwell, they are never meant to be forward facing, and their states do not really matter, these regions are only traveled by the regular workers to take trash out, each of these 3 zones is in different state of decoration, evidently, and cleanliness, evidently, but the third layer is shocking as it expresses the bare minimum of what a building needs and the cheapness, as bare as where cooks and the breakroom is, that is essentially habitable, but all a building needs is to really be an enclosure, this stripping of 'appeal' to simply comprising, or showing, the four walls that we are inside of, and that this is a place where people are situated, the people outside of our view frequently, has unpleasant implications. it is necessary for some to traverse these guts, and these are for some reason, people for whom it is desirable to management to keep farther from us. the technicians do come out, and speak with us, but the cleaners, who seem to never really interact with us, and who only come out very late, it seems evidently classist, basically. not that it is anyone's fault, anyone who works there at least. it is not a decision made, it's a cluster of assumptions that carry themselves and repeat ad infinitum, this is the fact of much of las vegas, and i imagine most entertainment complexes such as this. however, the various ways workers are distanced, and the workers that are distanced, it's interesting to see. the arcade workers tend to be, it seems, youthful, is maybe the word i'd use, youthful, energetic, whatever. i am not energetic but i guess i make up for that in something, or i am not sure. it is frequently older people working in dining + buffet, this tracks for lots of reasons but it is interesting to think of who goes where in the anatomy of this building and that it ultimately produces something which 'works', it is repeatable daily and does not collapse. even under stress. but ultimately what is interesting is the architecture and the systems that organize us. there is a lot there but i can't be sure of my returning to this, it just feels helpful as a kind of act, like bouncing a ball off of a wall to think, to better internalize my reading.

anyway. i am gonna practice this song a couple times i think, and then sleep after, but i'll report back between those things.

okay , i ran thru the song like 3 times, it's short so that's not too long on it but that's good. i think i can get something out tomorrow for it, and then maybe get onto doing things for other songs? we shall see.

anyway, i am tired, i need to sleep good tomorrow soooo

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[lgcminkyu]

A tight knot forms in Minkyu's throat, suffocating him and making it difficult to breathe; let alone articulate his thoughts. His body tenses, instinctively readying for either confrontation or escape, as if his defenses are being breached, threatening the protective barriers he's meticulously built to shield himself from pain and heartache.

Though Rowon's words reach his ears, it takes a moment for them to register, disbelief slowly seeping into his consciousness as he finally turns to face him.

"What," he manages to croak out. Drawing a shaky breath, he clenches his fists, gripping the fabric of his denim jeans tightly, resisting the urge to accept the offered gesture of goodwill. "How dare you try to shift the blame onto me like that, when you're the one who led us into this mess in the first place?"

"You have the audacity to turn this around on me, after I opened up to you, after I trusted you, ... after I liked you so much." he continues, his voice quivering with suppressed anger. "I refuse to be the victim of your indecision and inconsistency." With a heavy sigh, he finally releases his grip on his jeans, reaching instead for the warmth of his cup, seeking solace in the familiar embrace of his hot beverage.

"I'm not afraid," he asserts. "But I refuse to subject myself to the pain of your unpredictability again. I deserve better than that."

  he stares. lets the silence stretch itself thin in the space between them. most people would become uncomfortable after a few seconds and scramble for excuses, stumbling over their words, saying anything and everything to make it less awkward. but when minkyu remains quiet, rowon decides to push forward.

  “‘let’s talk about this another time, at a more appropriate place.’” word for word, because of course, he remembers; his memory is exceptionally detailed despite him pretending otherwise. “that’s what you said, and now, you’re telling me you never had the intention? you could’ve easily said that you wanted nothing to do with me anymore. that would’ve saved me a lot of time and spared me the disappointment and humiliation. ask Eunhee –” the barista. “– how many hours i’ve spent here, looking up whenever the bell chimes, only to see that it’s not you. this is the second time, minkyu. you made me wait for you a second time.”

  it’s fortunate, really, that they’re the only ones in the cafe.

  rowon settles back in his seat and drags the plate of pastries to his side. as he works on splitting them, he continues on in a lower voice, “i miss having you in my company. i want to mend things. or at least, talk out what happened.” he offers minkyu half of a blueberry scone.

  “what are you afraid of?”

[horsesandhockeyplayers]

When Life Gives You Lemons -- Part 1

Warnings: Mature content, abuse, rape, eating disorders etc. Some of these things go into a bit of detail. These warnings are relevant to the whole fic not just particular chapters.

Word Count: 4286

Word Count Total: 4286

Author's Note: Barbs and Lemon are back by popular demand! Thank you SO much to @hockeylvr59, @newlibrary, @itisawitchesworld, and Nora, who I can't seem to tag. The rewrite of this fic wouldn't have happened without all of you. Thank you for indulging my impulsivity. All of you can see Mark in action during the upcoming Olympics! Reminder that this fic starts during the summer of 2019. I will be tagging the Avs and Lausanne HC.

Chapter 1

“Ok, can you look at the camera please?”

The flash was blinding and while I appreciated the professional set-up, I couldn’t help but wonder if a nerd named Kevin with a cell phone and a white wall would be more efficient. This seemed excessive and far more painful. I found myself blinking to see if my retinas had detached.

The photographer fiddled with the settings for a moment, “Can we do one of your service dog too? I’d love to make her a little badge for her vest.”

I actually thought that was kind of cute, I doubt Kevin would have been as creative. “Sure,” I agreed, “Come on Daze.” I asked for a sit/stay on the little platform and waved a treat behind the photographer.

“Great, these are so cute,” The photographer declared. “What were your names again?”

I sighed, this was about to be awkward, “Clementine and Daisy.”

She blinked at me, her brain processing the names and trying to figure out who was the flower and who was the fruit. I took pity on her and clarified before she short circuited and smoke began to pour out of her ears, “I’m Clementine and the dog is Daisy.”

She sucked her lips into her mouth and nodded enthusiastically, perhaps to compensate for her previous reaction, “Um ok, give me just a second to get these printed.”

Within a few moments, she had handed us our badges and I had to admit the outcome was a little better than using some random nerd named Kevin with a cellphone. I attached the clip of the badge to the pocket of my jeans and Daisy’s to her service dog vest. I didn’t normally make her wear it, but it was my first day at the job I desperately needed and they had given me a chance despite my need for assistance so I wanted her to look the part.

Sports had always been one of my passions but I didn’t have an athletic bone in my body, so I embraced the rules, the stats, the analysis. Numbers had order and always made sense to me, but I just wasn’t quick enough to be a statistician. However, the very best thing about sports is all the numbers could make sense, but the underdog could still win. There was no way to measure luck, to measure a human being’s ability to dig within their soul to beat the odds. It was this, the human element, that attracted me to sports.

It was only after a nasty divorce, a complete mental breakdown, and facing the stark reality of starting my life over completely with nothing to show for a quarter century on the earth that I decided to go back to school, graduating with a Bachelor’s in Sports Communication.

Before that,I spent a year in and out of hospital psych wards, sedated while they tried to glue my brain back together. When that hell was over, I was forced to move back in with my parents, becoming their dependent again. I also got Daisy, a service dog to help me juggle depression, anxiety, PTSD, and all the medications I had to take in order to return to society as a semi functional person. With Daze’s help, I was able to go back to school and reinvent myself and now here I was, on the farside of 30 and almost human again. Truthfully, I had no idea what “normal” was but I had decided I was going to be it. I was going to be normal.

I was starting my life over from scratch, as a new college graduate old enough to be the parent of some of my classmates and a psych ward veteran who was probably the subject of several academic papers. I am the product of a really shitty emotionally and physically abusive marriage which left me with a slew of partly recovered emotional wounds, but all of that was still better than what I had been, as my therapist was constantly reminding me.

It had taken many strings pulled by my professors and, unfortunately, my father, the head basketball coach for Denver University, for me to get this job. Even then, I wasn’t entirely sure I hadn’t been given it because I checked the affirmative action box for being a disabled woman (double the diversity). And by job, I mean, this was a temporary paid internship gig and if the Avalanche executives liked my content the position would be created and then I could apply. Imposter syndrome was something I struggled with daily and my therapist had invested a great deal of time trying to teach me that it wasn’t nepotism, strings my father pulled in Denver, a hiring percentage, or a variety of other things that got me the job. The Avalanche Organization could have said no. They saw my academic projects and were curious enough to create this internship. It was up to me to keep it.

The makeshift photo studio was in the depths of Pepsi Arena, while Human Resources was several floors up in a part of the building that had windows. Having completed my surprisingly good staff photo with Not Kevin, Daze and I stood directly in front of the elevator ready to make our way up and navigate the next part of the new hire process. I was absentmindedly pressing the UP button as if that would make the car arrive faster when the ding sounded its arrival. I was completely unprepared for anyone to actually be inside the elevator, much less a herd of Avalanche players in full game regalia-- down to the blade covers on their skates.

I barely had time to register the half a ton of boisterous testosterone bearing down on us before Daze darted behind me to avoid being trampled. In surprise, I stepped back and felt one of her little furry paws under my heel. She gave a yelp and my knees buckled to avoid putting my full weight on her little toes.

Before I hit the ground, arms were around me and I found my face pressed firmly against the Avalanche logo covering a hard chest protector. To my credit, I managed to turn my head to avoid a bright red lipstick stain on the fabric of the jersey.

Daze whined as I was righted by the ridiculously strong arms I was wrapped in, and the chest I was pressed against stepped back, putting me squarely in front of my savior and his four compatriots. I blinked for a second as I got my bearings and tried to make my mouth move in a way that wouldn’t haunt me at 3 am a decade from now, but my savior spoke first, his voice quickly snapping me back into reality.

“Whoa, your hair is like… blue.” He sounded like the least intelligent frat boy I had ever come across and my nose wrinkled in distaste as I felt my eye twitch.

It was such an inane response that I forgot I was in front of a bunch of professional athletes, most of whom I watched on a regular basis and all of who could now get me fired on a whim. Now I will be the first to admit I put my foot in my mouth a lot; mostly, because there’s no filter going from my speech center to my mouth and I’m not ashamed to say, working in sports, I often felt like the smartest person in the room. “It’s actually more of a navy, but thanks for the commentary Captain Obvious.”

The four players who were mostly blocked by the pair of broad shoulders and helmet, took an audible step back, and so did the set of pads in front of me which was bad for my IQ. The first thing I noticed were his eyes which were the color of the hazelnut coffee I liked to drink in the morning. My face went slack and I promptly forgot everything I’d ever known, including my own name as I stared into their rich depths.

An accented voice that didn’t seem to be attached to a body floated across my vision, “Is she okay?”

“I think so?” The man standing in front of me waved a hand in front of my face.

Daze whined and I swallowed, the world coming back into focus. My voice sounded far away when I spoke, “I’m fine, we’re both fine.”

The hand that was still gripping my elbow slid up my arm and skimmed my collar bone before the warm palm settled against the curve of my neck. His thumb tilted my head up as those coffee colored eyes stared in my mind, searching, assessing me. It was strangely intimate and I could feel the sensation of his hand on my neck shooting through my body, and I flinched.

This time his voice was low and only for me as he misread the flinch, “Are you sure you’re ok?”

I nodded against his grip begrudgingly, “I’m fine.”

Content that I had averted utter disaster and was going to physically survive this awkward encounter, the other players started walking away, one of them declaring impatiently, “She’s fine, Barbs, what do you think you are? A doctor?”

One player, though, lagged behind. He had a grin on his face like it was Christmas and his birthday all rolled into one; about what exactly he was so excited, though, I was unsure. He pointed a finger gun at me, which was both adorable and dorky as he commented, “Please tell me you work for the team.”

I nodded in confirmation, stating simply, “Yeah, for as long as I don’t fuck up.”

His finger gun turned into an outstretched palm as he reached past my personal body shield for a handshake, foregoing a normal greeting in favor of just saying, “Gabe.”

I nodded passively, “I know who you are, but thanks. I’m Clementine.”

He chuckled before he pressed, “No shit?”

I sighed, “No shit. And this is Daisy, but I just call her Daze.” I tilted my head toward where she was sitting, looking between me and the two men. She wasn’t used to people invading my large bubble of personal space.

The Swede gave a nod to the dog, but didn’t attempt to pet her, “We have to get going, but I *really* hope we see you around, Clementine.”

I cleared my throat as he drug the man with the coffee eyes away, “Just Tine, is fine.”

“Ok, Just Tine,” he mimicked. With that they disappeared down the hall. Gabe was whistling “My Darling Clementine” under his breath with a distinct saunter to his walk despite the skates. I really hated that song.

The elevator had long since closed and I pushed the button to recall it; this time, I had my wits about me and for fear of repeating the previous and unfortunate encounter, I moved to stand to the side of the doors. After only a few seconds, the elevator arrived, and Daze and I entered. I pushed the button for our desired floor and the steel doors were beginning to slide shut, when I heard, “Wait!! Hold it!”

It sounded like a douchey intern-- you know the type, the guy who unfortunately was not cut out for his sport of choice so he went into Sports Management instead. I rolled my eyes and hit the DOOR CLOSE button repeatedly trying my best dumb girl voice, “I’m hitting the button! It’s not working!” This tactic seemed to work right up until four hairy knuckles grabbed the edge of the steel and pulled it open again with what my girly bits registered as an impressive show of strength.

“Oh, hey, Blue Hair,” The voice was familiar now considering I had just heard it a few moments ago, inches from my face. It was him, the man who caught me; he jutted his chin at me and raised his eyebrows when he saw the DOOR CLOSE button illuminated, “Not working huh?” He said jovially, taking zero offense. That irritated me, I meant offense. I meant the most offense.

“Did you fail kindergarten? Because this is a dark blue known commonly as navy. I also have a name and it’s not ‘Blue Hair.’” For as much as I loved sports, I often despised the personalities that played them.

He rocked back on his skates with an amused look on his face but he didn’t push a button, so I assumed he was going to the same floor. At least, I hoped that was the reason and not something more unfortunately, like he wanted to start a conversation. His lips quirked up and his eyebrows lifted, his hazelnut eyes shining with a bit of mirth I simultaneously found irritating and hot. “Great, a name, I’d love to hear it.”

World War Three was currently happening in my body. The girly bits were definitely attracted to the possibility of his boy bits, but a coil of deep loathing of everything this man seemed to be as a person was uncoiling in my belly. I hoped my expression didn’t reveal the fact that I was fantasizing about a murder of crows plucking his beautiful eyes out of his waxy dead skull when I responded flatly, “It’s Tine, your captain and I just had this conversation in front of you.”

“TIne?” He repeated with a skeptical look.

It was difficult to rein in my snappy response and I don’t think I succeeded entirely as I explained, “Yes, Tine. Short for Clementine.”

“Clementine,” he said the word like he was feeling it in his mouth. His beautiful dumb face was arranged in confusion.

“Yes, like the citrus fruit.” My toes dug into my flats and I willed myself to keep looking forward.

Sir DudeFratBoi made a disbelieving noise in the back of his throat before he questioned, “Tine isn’t a name. It’s a part of a fork.” Oh he wasn’t just dumb, he was DUMB.

I was about 1.5 seconds away from having a screaming hysterical meltdown on this asshole, mostly because he was stupid but I was attracted to him against my will. Fortunately, I felt Daze’s wet nose in my palm, grounding me.

I snorted. “Award-winning actress Tyne Daly would disagree.”

“Who? Oh hey! Cool dog.” He knelt down and started petting Daze, who patiently looked up at me.

I had met toddlers that had more restraint than this adult man, “While I can appreciate your proclivity toward dogs, she’s a service dog and she’s working.”

“Proclivity. That a word you use often in everyday conversations?” He stood, cocking his head a little while he looked me over. “You don’t look blind.”

I almost choked on my tongue, “Excuse me?”

“Blind? Dog?” His tone indicated maybe he thought I was a little slow. And no, the irony of the situation did not escape me.

My hands were halfway to my temples to rub them counterclockwise in an effort to calm down before I realized they had moved, and I dropped them firmly to my sides again. Daze put her paw on my thigh, and it served as a distraction that allowed me to redirect the urge to ferally bite his nose right off his stupid face. “I’m not blind. She’s a service dog, not a guide dog.”

He shrugged, which I took as an indication he thought they were the same thing. Mercifully, the elevator came to stop and the doors opened with a ding. One of his arms stretched out past the opening, gesturing for me to go first. I couldn’t tell if he was being chivalrous or still thought I was blind.

I had taken one step out of the elevator before he spoke, his voice tinged with amused skepticism, as he supplied “I’m Mark.”

I turned on my heel and headed toward HR, leaving him and his outstretched hand alone in the elevator while I informed him, “I know.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Watching her walk away, I felt my dick twitch which was amazing, because I was pretty sure I swallowed not only my foot, but my entire leg. She was pretentious and a pain in the ass and probably a bunch of other P words I didn’t even know, but I bet she knew them. The hints of vulnerability underneath her prickly exterior made her intriguing. Of course she was probably prickly, because I was a giant MORON. I had never said so many idiotic things in a row in my life and that was saying something as a professional jock.

My fingers fiddled absently with the mic that was clipped to my collar. I knew the audio from the elevator would be in Landy’s hands by the time I made it back, and there wasn’t much I could do about it. Even so, I took as long as possible grabbing my gloves, but we were shooting promos and at some point, I knew someone would come looking for me.

I heard them before I even rounded the corner of the door, “Dude, YOU ASKED HER IF SHE WAS BLIND.” Josty’s mirth filled the room.

Landy didn’t say anything, he just arched his invisible eyebrows and shook his head like he couldn’t believe one of his players was that stupid.

Comph grinned at his phone and it didn’t dawn on me what he was doing until I heard the telltale *swoop* of a message being sent to the team group text.

“Fuck. Seriously, guys?!” I couldn’t help the fact I was grumbling. I really couldn’t. They were right, I was a massive idiot.

The chirps were endless, and by the time we had finished promo photos, I was in a sour mood.

When the rest of the guys went back to the dressing room, I made my way to the ice. That first stride on a mirrored sheet of ice was always the best and it always felt like coming home after a long trip. It was the beginning of training camp and the rookies were trying to earn themselves a roster spot. A few people still littered the stands after the morning skate, but I didn’t pay them any mind.

I was a few strides into my warm-up when I felt my dick twitch again and I knew she was around. I looked up, scanning the seats for blue, no, NAVY hair. She peeked out from behind a huge lense, corners of her mouth quirked up like she was amused. My dick twitched again, hard enough I tripped over my own skates and sprawled onto the ice. I lay starfished for awhile praying to every god I knew that she didn’t get photographic evidence of that and I decided my dick and I were going to have a conversation about the type of women he should be attracted to. My legs felt like overcooked spaghetti and it was a struggle to stand. When I was finally upright I tried to look casually in her direction; I caught the corner of her smile behind the camera and the situation in my jock became serious. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. This entire situation was so unbelievably fucked up.

She turned to leave, and I surprised myself when I heard myself call out, “Hey, Tangerine!”

When she turned back around I could see the wrinkle of annoyance between her eyes. For some odd reason I took that wrinkle as a personal victory. My throat closed again and her eyes rolled before she disappeared into the corridor.

I sincerely hoped no one was around because that entire display from start to finish was a disaster. Tangerine was her name right? It was some kind of fruit.

Normally, I could skate until there was nothing between my ears but white noise and empty space, it wasn’t difficult to achieve, but today every time the creak of the ice tried to free my mind, I felt it drift back to Blue Hair. After an hour, I gave up and headed to the dressing room to change. Everyone was long gone and I was thankful I was spared another round of humiliation from whomever witnessed my pitiful display on the ice and told the boys about it. Everyone would probably know by tomorrow, but that was tomorrow’s problem.

10 minutes later, I was comfortable in some joggers and a tshirt with my equipment bag over my shoulder, waiting for the elevator. When it opened, I felt the corners of my mouth turn up and couldn’t help the words that escaped out of my mouth, “Hey Orange,” I said, as unassumingly as I could manage.

Her lips pursed showing her obvious annoyance, and I definitely had to use all my willpower to control my dick that seemed to develop a mind of his own when she was within 100 yards of me. In hindsight, freeballin’ in the joggers for the drive home was a big mistake.

I leaned in front of her and pushed the button she had already pressed and was lit. The resulting glare earned me the little wrinkle between her eyes I was beginning to covet.

Rocking back on my heels, I stuck my hands in my pockets, hoping to hold down Mark Jr. “So Grapefruit, what are you doing here?”

She took a visible deep breath that lifted her chest and I felt my eyes drop, easily double Ds. Score. “Basically, a year-long interview for a new position. If I’m successful, they will create the position and I will have a chance to apply and if I’m not, they’re going to scrap it and I will float away into oblivion.

That seemed heavy, “No pressure then, eh?”

Her nose wrinkled again and I wondered if she would make the same face if we kissed. Wait. what? However, my thoughts rapidly changed track of their own volition when the elevator suddenly made a horrific screeching noise; one corner dipping causing Clementine to fall into me and then the whole car groaned to a stop.

Catching her as she fell into me was a reflex and I was glad mine were quick as I wrapped my arms around her. The dog splayed all four feet in an effort to keep her balance.

We didn’t move for several seconds and honestly, I was a little surprised she hadn’t flinched or screamed during whatever just happened, because it shook the shit out of me.

My voice cracked like a horny teenager and I cleared my throat before starting again, “Are you ok?”

I couldn’t see her face, but I felt her smile as my voice hit the high note and she nodded her head. The dog whined and Clementine bent to check on her. I loosened my arms and tried to subtly aim my hips in the other direction. She actually smelled like oranges or some shit. Jesus, I was fucked.

Once she had assessed the dog was ok and had murmured whatever she needed to to reassure the dog, she stood again and started digging in her purse. I let my arms drop, but my hand settled on her hip to stabilize her as were now standing at an angle. Totally, not at all because touching her made my fingertips tingle.

“Shit,” she cursed, “I don’t have service in here-- do you? She dropped her phone back in her bag and started to turn toward me. I let go of her hip and dug into my pocket, swiping the screen open, “Nope, I replied, “Zero bars here.”

“It’s 2019, you’d think the tech bros could figure out how to get service in a goddamn elevator.” She bit her lip, though her lipstick had long worn off, they were distracting all the same which is why it took me more than a nanosecond to leap to the next conclusion, “I think I have wi-fi in here though.” I had no idea who to contact in this situation so I shot an imessage off to Landy. Rescuing teammates from awkward situations and potential peril was part of his captainly duties.

He didn’t waste a second responding. You’re stuck in an elevator?

Yeah.

Landy: Anyone with you?

Yeah, that Citrus chick.

Landy: Citrus? You mean Clementine?

Isn’t that an orange? Whatever, yes. That girl.

Landy just sent back a series of emojis and I was in no mood to try to translate his inner 13 year old girl in order to make sense of it.

“I got Landy, he will know who to call.” I informed Clementine before I asked her, “You good?”

She nodded and as a reflex, I squeezed her hip in reassurance. We both stiffened and she took a step away from my hand. I let it drop and flexed my fingers a few times. I suddenly felt like the elevator was 1000 degrees and I leaned back against the wall. If I could stop shoving my foot in my mouth and being awkward as FUCK while I was stuck in an enclosed space with this woman, that sure would be cool.

Dropping my bag, I slid down against the wall and stretched out my sore legs. The rookies may be looking to get a shot at the team, but some of us weren’t MacKinnon or Makar and we were fighting to keep our own spots on the roster. I thought I had trained hard all summer, but it was becoming apparent from my aching muscles that I should have trained harder.

Clementine was still standing and looking at her phone, like those service bars would appear like magic.

“Listen, Tangelo, we’re going to be awhile so why don’t you take a seat?”

[sillyrabbit81]

Hi dear

I'm a big fan of your writing, especially the way you write Sy. Love it. If you are still taking prompts, I have one.

How would Henry and his characters react to having an Erectile dysfunction?

I think that topic is not being discussed enough.

🖤🖤🖤

Thanks for the ask Anon. I was having trouble with this ask so I discussed it with @henryobsessed and we worked on it together. To be fair, she did most of it! If you haven’t read any of her work I suggest you visit her blog and take a look at her Masterlist . She is a great friend and has a wonderful perspective and a unique style. I love her!

@henryobsessed here I have to interject and have my say too, I loved this request, it was so much fun finding creative ways to discuss a delicate subject. And for the record I may have done more characters but @sillyrabbit81 wrote more words per character HAHAHA. You are a wonderful Friend and Cavill sister you inspire and push me to be myself and I cannot be more grateful. That being said have fun reading guys 😊

Summary: Situations in which Henry and his characters suffer erectile dysfunctions

Word Count: approx 3k

Warnings: smut, masturbation (m), oral sex (m and f receiving), anal play, p in v sex, bad medical advice, incorrect use of prescription medication, bodily fluids, period sex, drunk sex, Dom/sub relationship, descriptions of violence and death,

Masterlist

Erectile Dysfunction Headcanon

Henry Cavill

Henry had been filming for months and now he was headed home for a week’s break. You sat there waiting in the tinted people mover, as Henry was ushered to the car. Lights blinded you as the door opened, he climbed in, and smiling a weary grin, he pulled you into a big bear hug. He missed you so much.

That night, he fell into your arms in a passionate embrace. You had both craved each other, missing one another’s touch. As the night progressed, you noticed things were different. For the first forty minutes you were ecstatic, he had bought you to orgasm three times. Your body was super sensitive, but every time he seemed to be close himself, the phone would ring, indicating someone needed him. You had switched it off after an hour, having enough, and wanting his undivided attention.

Henry had managed to stay hard, but after an hour and a half, it was beginning to be painful for you, and he seemed no closer. Eventually, he flopped beside you, drained from the physical exertion.

“I don’t know what’s wrong. It’s like I’m right there, but I can’t let go.”

You brought him into your arms, and caressing his back said, “Don’t worry love. It will be ok. Just give yourself a day, and maybe we can shut your phone off. I think the stress it is causing you might be a big part of the problem.”

He huffed at the thought. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe.” He sighed and soon you heard soft snores spilling from his lips.

Walter Marshall

It had been a long day, scratch that a long month. Walter had been working day and night to catch a serial killer. That night as he came home, he couldn’t forget the latest victim. What they had found had turned his stomach. In all the years he had been on the force, nothing could have prepared him for what they found that night.

Arriving home he collapsed on the bed, he was so physically exhausted, and for once sleep immediately consumed him. He woke nearly twelve hours later to the smell of bacon, eggs, and coffee. He groaned; he had forgotten it was his two-year anniversary with you. Walking into the bathroom he washed his face, staring at the blood shot eyes reflected back at him.

“Come on man, get it together. You promised her,” Walter tried to fire himself up. It was no use, he was spent. Sighing, he walked into the kitchen wrapped his arms around you and breathed in the soft floral scent in your hair. For the first time in days, he felt a spark within himself, and although the horrific images still played on his mind, he felt a slight peace. He kissed your head, relieved, something could still reach him, something was still good. “Happy anniversary, love,” he growled.

After a wonderful breakfast, Walter sat on the couch with you and the two of you cuddled while watching a movie. His eyes kept sliding shut, his exhaustion made worse by his full belly. His fatigue became even more apparent when after reaching your hand beneath the blanket, you could not bring his flaccid muscle to attention.

Normally this situation would turn heated quickly, you had a way with your tongue that often had him begging for more. But Walter couldn’t get rid of the images in his mind, the battered and dismembered bodies, and the fact they were no closer to catching the killer weighed most heavily on his thoughts.

After half an hour of you trying to arouse him, Walter said in a resigned voice, “Sorry love, I don’t think I can.” With eyes that spoke of immense pain he looked at you and asked, “Could we please just cuddle? I think I need that more than anything right now.” In that moment he knew you were the one for him. He had expected huffing or crying because you thought you weren’t good enough or you asking him to please you. Instead, you had adjusted your position, so he was tucked into your body, holding him close while your hand stroked his curls.

A calm filled his soul as you whispered, “I am here for whatever you need my love. Rest now.”

Captain Syverson

You were just about to turn the light off and go to sleep when you heard the front door open with a crash and heard a rough curse. You grin, Sy was home and wasn’t sober. You knew what that meant, rough, wild, primal fucking. You quickly turn the light off and hide under the covers, well acquainted with the game, you knew how to play your part.

“Where are ya, woman?” Sy’s voice boomed at your bedroom door. “Don’t think you can hide from me. I’m hungry!”

You peek out from under the blanket, Sy had turned the light on again and was quickly undressing. You lick your lips, watching your big furry ox as he dropped his jeans, and his cock was revealed already on its way to being hard. Turning suddenly, he saw you, and you yelped covering your face again. “I see you woman, don’t play shy!” You giggle nervously, excited, your core already dampening with arousal.

Sy pulls the covers back and smirks as he sees you’re already naked waiting for him, “You’re a cheeky little thing ain’tcha?” You bite your lip, opening your legs slightly, inviting him in. Grabbing your ankles, he pulls you down the bed and gets on his knees. A low growl emanates from his throat before he dives between your legs feasting on you with an eagerness that brings you swiftly to your peak.

Licking at his lips and sucking on his glistening whiskers, he stands up pumping his cock getting it ready. Your brows pull together, puzzled, he’s always hard when he eats you out. You don’t have time to dwell on it because he’s soon ready. Sy flips you onto your knees before he enters and begins his assault on your core.

Something is wrong though, you can feel him falling out of you. Did he cum already? Sy mumbles curses, pulling out and you turn around and see him fisting himself again as he slips his fingers inside you. In a few moments he is hard again, removing his fingers and replacing it with his cock. You sigh, relieved, as he builds his rhythm, and you hear him start to groan. But soon, it happens again, and try as he might he just can’t stay hard.

“Fuck,” Sy growls. You turn around and see the look on his face, a mix of frustration and embarrassment that melts your heart. “I think I drank too much Sugar,” he says, running his hand over his short hair. “Fuck. This hasn’t happened… Fuck!”

“Hey!” you say sharply to get his attention.

“What?” Sy replies just as sharply, but he doesn’t look at you.

“It’s fine, Baby,” you assure him. You see him jut his jaw and you reach up and cup his cheeks, making him look at you. “It’s ok. You’re just a little too drunk,” you smile and give him a soft kiss. “It happens.”

“Not to me it don’t.”

“It’s not forever,” you say. “Come on, let’s go to sleep. I’m sure it’ll be back normal in the morning.” You kiss him again and pull his head down to whisper in his ear, “maybe you could wake me up like you did last week.” You pull back and smirk raising your eyebrows.

Sy grins, still a little sheepish, but there was a hint of mischief in his eyes again, “You’re a good thing, Sugar.” He kisses your forehead and says, “I love you.”

Geralt of Rivia

Geralt had never in his life had this happen before. The bar maid who had eagerly agreed to keep his bed warm on this cold winter’s night, gaped in confusion.

How could it be? She thought, All the myths about Witcher’s said they were virile and could last most of the night. She had been consumed with the thought ever since The White Wolf had arrived in the area and was quick to accept his offer to take her to his bed. She was bitterly disappointed and pouted at Geralt. Her sweet, plump lips alone should have been enough to make his cock stand, but tonight it lay unmoving, and useless.

That blasted sorcerer, it must have been him who had cast a curse on Geralt. It could be the only explanation for his inadequate showing. Looking at the poor wench beside him, Geralt pitied her. She had been most eager to satisfy his needs tonight, giving a valiant effort to arouse him. No matter, he had other ways to enjoy bringing her to the height of pleasure. Granted he didn’t normally concern himself with their needs as his own normally coincided with theirs. But tonight, his fingers, and tongue would be adequate until he broke the curse and returned to give her what she truly deserved.

Mike

The party had been epic, the drinks flowed, pot was smoked in abundance and Mike had managed to capture the attentions of a wonderful long legged blonde beauty. She helped him back to her apartment and his heart rate raised as she slowly stripped him, leaving him in all his naked glory. Laying on the bed he watched as she did a strip tease for him, her perky breasts bouncing as she jiggled her ample peach in his face.

But something was wrong, the situation was right, she was right but… he held his hand out to the two or was it three beauties before him. One took his hand as he guided her to sit in his lap. He caressed her as they kissed, his tongue violating her mouth with as much enthusiasm as his inebriated self could manage. Even with her grinding against him nothing happened.

“Shit” he swore.

The girl frowned and her lips seemed to move in twisted patterns which stilled again before she snickered. An evil cackle reverberated in her throat and her face twisted into that of a demented creature. “Can’t get it up, boy?” she taunted as she continued to laugh. She collected his clothes and managed to push him out of her bedroom and into the night. Standing in the cold with only his briefs covering his body, he stumbled as he began his walk of shame home.

August Walker

August Walker was hands down, far and away, the greatest lover you have ever had. He was the only man who had ever been able to keep up with you, your average session lasting for four hours. He was able to cum and get hard again faster than any guy you had ever been with too.

But being with August meant following The Rules. There were many Rules, rules which governed how you would dress when you saw him, how you were groomed, how you were to address him and when you could contact him. There were punishments too, but you had been a good girl, never broken any of his rules, so you never gave the punishments a thought.

One of the many Rules was absolutely no snooping. He said it was for your protection as much for his privacy. You didn’t know exactly how August made his money, but you assumed it had to be from some sort of illegal activity. So, you obeyed this rule as you did the others until one evening after a marathon session, you realised you got your period. You were shocked August hadn’t said anything, clearly he had continued to fuck you while you were bleeding. You started opening his bathroom cupboards searching for a tampon or pad or something, hoping you wouldn’t have to stuff your panties with toilet paper until you got home.

You opened the cupboard behind the mirror and were surprised to see a pill bottle with little blue tablets. You recognised them and after checking the label and confirming it you were speechless. August used Viagra? But, it didn’t seem possible that he would need it, his stamina was out of this world… unless…

“What do you think you are doing Petal?” August said from the doorway, a box of tampons and a towel was in his hands.

Quickly recovering your senses, you grabbed the box and towel out of his hands and kissed his cheek saying, “Looking for those. Thank you, August.”

Quicker than you thought possible you were bent over the counter, cheek pushed into the stone benchtop. “You found my pills,” August said coldly. Leaning his body over yours, his weight pushed down on you, holding you in place as he kicked your legs apart. You muffled a cry as you felt him hard again against your ass. “I don’t need them, for most women, Petal. But for particularly slutty, insatiable, cock hungry brats such as yourself, it’s a necessary assistance.”

“I didn’t mean to pry,” you murmured, hoping he would take pity on you. Tears welled in your eyes as his finger pressed against your ass, forcing your tight muscles apart and you cried as he entered you. “I’m sorry, August.”

“My dear sweet, Pet,” August grunted as he violated you with a second finger. “If you aren’t sorry now, you will be.”

Napoleon Solo

Napoleon had been watching the siren from a distance all night. Her lithe body commanded all around to her attention. After she finished singing her call to the night goddess, he made his move. Two drinks in hand he set his sights and went in for the kill.

The two danced, drank and now were in her apartment, laid out on her bed he was happily pleasing her, mouth buried between her delicious thighs. His tongue flicked expertly over her button bringing her to climax, exciting his body, he climbed forward and for the first time that night claimed her lips. They kissed passionately until something changed, his mind grew foggy, and his cock deflated.

“Aww, is the great Casanova having trouble?” she laughed her sweet siren song changing to a bitter retort. His confused eyes tried to fix on hers as she began to distort, her last words filling his gut with fear. “Don’t worry love. I’ll take good care of you Napoleon Solo.”

Clark Kent

Clark was in college and his new friend Tommy was egging him on to take Crystal out for a date. He couldn’t understand why the cheerleader wanted to take him out. He wasn’t anything special as far as she knew, but she had been flirting with him all week.

Dinner was nice and Clark was surprised when Crystal suggested they return to her share house for dessert. Nervous as he was around her, he was pleased when after ice cream he had allowed her to talk him into a make out session in her room. They had only been in the room a few moments when he had felt strange. They had been kissing, it was enjoyable, but his stomach had begun to feel off and he felt unusually tired and weak.

The more they kissed the more frustrated he was to realise he wasn’t getting a rise out of his little friend. He noticed a pendant hanging on the wall near her bed, the green stone glowed eerily at him giving him a bad vibe. After a few more moments he politely excused himself, saying he must have eaten something off. Clarke murmured apologies and gave promises that he would call her and he left. Strangely, by the time he left her house he felt better, as if he had never felt ill at all. He was only a little upset that he had ruined his chances with Crystal, something about that pendant made him hope he would never see it again.

Charles Brandon

Charles sat in the apothecary rooms, wondering what he had gotten himself in for. The King had recommended him when Charles confided in his friend of his problem.

“So young man, why are you here?” the old man asked, his face kind but stern.

“Well, I’ve been having trouble, when I pee it burns and well, I can get an erection, but it deflates quickly and sometimes I cannot get one at all. I’m also having abdominal pain.”

The old man chuckled. After examining the affected area, he turned to his wall of potions. Pulling together some salves, and powdered herbs he turned to address the Charles. “Here, rub this on the affected area twice a day, and drink this tea three times a day.” The apothecary paused and said with a grin, “And finally, give the ladies from court a rest for a bit, you will regain your vigour again.”

Shame and chagrin filled Charles as he pulled his coverings back over his privates. Taking the medicines, he snuck out of the room trusting that no one saw him, and hoping against all hope, that this would work.

Sherlock Holmes

Sherlock sits back in satisfaction, marvelling at his new invention. Based on some literature he read from the America’s he perfected the design and made it fit himself perfectly.

Having commissioned the glass tube and rubber attachments, the contraption worked by winding a small handle, creating the necessary suction to create a vacuum, pooling enough blood into his cock to make it erect. By placing a rubber ring at the base of his shaft, he found he was able to maintain an erection for approximately thirty minutes. He could even bring himself to orgasm by his own hand.

It really was a delightful invention. Now, he just had to find that little vixen of a maid and see if it worked with her too. Perhaps he should try and use her mouth first.

Tag List 1

@henryobsessed @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @posiemax @nostalgicb-txh @moonlacebeam @anitababi @agniavateira @blakerogue @shadesofarrogance @mansaaay @stxlemate @wheretheriversrunintothesea @amberangel112 @madbaddic7ed @eldarwen333 @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @summersong69 @littlefreya @littlebirdofrivia @luclittlepond @myloveforhenrycavill @mary-ann84 @tellingyouastory @beck07990 @zealoushound @sofiebstar @sweetlybigdragonn @bloodyinspiredfuck @marantha @diegos-butt @greensleeves888 @endofalldays01 @justaboringadult @ysmmsy @offroadinjandals @littlewrenofrivia @pussyverson @foxyjwls007 @kebabgirl67

[stxrshxpxd]

thats what you get for sleeping with the enemy x 90s!liam

pairing: 90s liam gallagher x reader

word count: 935

warnings: none

alright i wanted to write this concept again (wrote it on hessohigh) cause this oasis line is so fucking hot. and the prompt that liam is jealous of damon and secretly in love with you is just *chefs kiss*

i hope ill get back into writing longer better written things but lmao i hope this little fic is fine for now

* * *

I had definitely seen Liam upset before, but it had never been directed at me. The atmosphere was as cold as the beer he had just handed me. Not a word had been spoken, not even a greeting at the door.

I let out a short laugh at his weird mood as I followed him into his kitchen.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he finally spoke and turned around abruptly, leaning against his counter as he drank from his bottle and looked away.

“Is Noel being a dick again?” I pouted excessively, trying to gain, at the very least, eye contact. It seemed a grin or a chuckle was too much to ask for at the moment.

“No,” Liam snapped and began studying his bottle in detail. I watched him twist it around in his palm and pretend to read the label with a lowered head.

“Liam, I can leave if you don’t want me here,” I chuckled again, starting to feel really odd about standing in the middle of his kitchen with an ice cold beer in my hand and an even colder Liam in front of me.

“No,” he said quietly, his neck seeming to have grown stiff in its lowered position. I stayed for a moment in silence and waited for an explanation. I figured he wasn’t going to give one, but then he spoke again.

“I know where you’ll go if you leave.”

“Liam, can you look at me?” I asked in a slightly annoyed tone. He listened to me and looked up finally. It wasn’t much help though, as his face was emotionless and impossible to read.

“I would probably go back home,” I laughed, still confused.

“You’d go to Damon’s,” Liam said at last.

A small chuckle bubbled inside me, purely at the absurdity of the situation. There were many things I couldn’t wrap my head around. How did Liam know that I had slept with Damon the other night? Why was he so upset about it? Why did he care?

I made a face that I couldn't explain the emotion of, trying to think of the right question to ask.

“How-” I finally began, and Liam cut me off immediately.

“Every single tabloid.”

I stayed quiet and Liam kept talking, as he placed the bottle on his counter and wiped his cold damp palm on his jeans.

“Fucking loads of photos of the two of you snogging in some dirty pub.”

“Okay, well-“

“You slept with him?”

It had been the first time we had met properly. Being friends, with certain benefits, with Liam meant I had run into Damon a few times. We had never had a real conversation though, until the other night. The conversation in question had quickly turned physical and I had ended up waking up on top of his sheets, and under his arm, the next morning.

Had Liam not been so obviously hostile about the subject, I would have had no problem telling him the truth. But his frown made it almost impossible to answer his question, even though we both knew the answer.

“I mean…”

“Was he any good?”

“Why do you care?” I asked back and placed the bottle down on Liam’s kitchen table. He turned silent again. He stayed leaning against the counter with his one ankle casually crossed over the other.

“I’m not your girlfriend, am I?”

The word girlfriend hung heavier in the air than any other words that had previously been spoken. It was a rhetorical question, but I found myself wanting him to answer it. Granted, I didn’t know what I wanted the answer to be.

“Fucking- I don’t know,” he cut himself off and tossed glances around the room, avoiding eye contact again.

“Well, I’m not,” I stated, a little too harshly. “You haven’t asked me to be your girlfriend. You don’t seem to want me to be your girlfriend. Do you want me to be your girlfriend?”

Every time I repeated it the word got heavier and bigger and Liam seemed to hate it.

“I want…” he began in a loud, upset tone. “You.”

His answer was vague, and as much as it annoyed me, it also pained me in a very different way.

He stopped leaning against the counter and in a swift movement he was standing right in front of me. His large hands held my waist firmly and one deep exhale of his fell on my nose.

“That’s not an answer to my question, Liam.”

Playfulness had made its way back into our repertoire and I realised how much I had missed his smug grin. It sat confidently on his lips and I felt it on mine as he kissed me. I knew Liam quite well, and I knew he was currently trying to cover up his emotions.

“I want you..” he echoed and tried his best to conjure up a better answer. “..to only want me.”

“In what ways?” I teased him further and tugged on his washed out Beatles tee.

“All of them. Especially the ones that make you forget about blonde little art school snobs.”

Liam’s fingertips continued to dig deeper into my sides, pushing all my right buttons. I was pushing all his buttons as well as I let my palms slide up inside his shirt slowly.

“Drama school,” I corrected, and Liam shut me up with an annoyed grunt embedded in a harsh kiss.

“Forget about him,” he demanded while our noses stayed pressing against each other.

“Consider him forgotten,” I promised as my hands reached his chest and I planted another kiss on his lips.

[deluluass]

all yours; all mine

71 and 58 with Atsumu pleaseeese. I just love this man and I would appreciate it if you wrote something with him. Youre so talented!💕 — anon

sidenote: anon, i hope u know that u have a very special place in my heart for being the first ask ive ever received. i hope u are well & having a gr8 day ;U;

Content warnings: rape/noncon; nsfw; daddy kink; mild angst; implied post-breakup depression; toxic relationship/s

Breakups are a messy business. A lot of crying, begging, screaming (if it's that type of a breakup). Whatever it is, breakups generally inspire intense— so-intense-it-could-get-you-kicked-out-if-you're-in-a-public-place, high-strung, and the most unpleasant kind of emotions. 

It’s understandable, considering you’re losing the person you love. 

But he doesn't even look upset.

"Aah," Atsumu sing-songed, twirling the plastic stirrer between his fingers. "Ya wanna call it off?"

The heat from the mug bit your skin as you gripped it. 

"What?" you choked, shaking your head. "I didn't say that, Atsumu. I only-"

He scoffed. "Fuckin'- ya just did."

You finally looked up at him, porcelain clinking as you placed your drink back on the saucer. Ball cap on,  muscles filling up and straining his hoodie and jeans; even in an outfit that almost concealed him he never fails to take your breath away. 

Only, it's for a different reason this time.

"I said that I-" you cleared your throat. "I want- I want you to-"

"I get it, I get it." Atsumu sighed, waving his hand nonchalantly. "Let's break up, then."

He was already standing up and he didn't even deign to meet your eyes. You didn't expect much when you'd travelled all the way to Tokyo just to have a talk with him. After all, the last conversation you had was over the phone. (And that, too, did not go well). 

Though, is it too much to expect he'd at least listen to what you have to say?

"Tsumu-kun! Wait!" 

Some customers were already staring, urging you to hide, hop on the next train, and run back home; away from the cold scrutiny of strangers. 

But not now. Not when what you have with him is hanging on a balance.

"Please, sit down and- and let's talk," you huffed, voice and hand trembling as you held onto his.

Breakups are a messy business, you heard.

A lot of crying. A lot of begging. A lot of screaming. Whichever kind it is, don't breakups usually inspire only the most intense emotions?

But he doesn't even look upset, doesn't even look like he feels anything other than a passing irritation, as if you were a fly buzzing in his ear, when he told you, "I know this is ya first rodeo, but yer gonna find someone new eventually, hm?"

It's been a long time coming, Atsumu thinks. He'd known for quite a while now that his relationship with you would end, actually, ever since you'd wanted to include "feelings" and "trust" and "opening up" into the mix. 

"Why?" he'd laughed at your face once. "What? Ya ain't happy? That it? We got somethin' good goin' on don't we?"

He didn't get it, at first. You'd always been your cheerful, bubbly self; never failing to be that one sunny spot when his day gets too pesky and such a pain in the ass. You were happy.

Until you weren't. 

"You don't.. tell me things," you muttered, fiddling with your hands on the kitchen table. "Which is fine! I'm not- go at your pace, but- but know that I'd listen to you. Always. I'm here, 'Tsumu."

And it wasn't as if he didn't try. It's just that Atsumu realized, a few months later, that he wasn't any good at it. 

Every time he'd lay it all out in front of you⁠— every tiny and pathetic and gritty part of him, you would eventually take him in your arms. So much smaller, weaker than his and yet Atsumu did not mind if it could be his entire world. 

Then, a thought would creep in, like a thief that'd stab him in his sleep. In the safety of those tender arms, with those guileless eyes peering at him, Atsumu would think that he'd rather stay there forever, cling onto you until he bites the dust.  

It disgusted him. 

Atsumu couldn't stand it. Because if he could be anything in this short life, he'd choose to be perfect. And that- that wasn't it. 

So he avoided it when the occasion arose. Diverting the subject to mundane stuff was easy, at first. The weather, the new show you're binging, your slacker of a boss, what happened back in the game. When that didn't work⁠— well, there were other ways. 

(His favorite was sticking his tongue in your wet cunt, to prod at the soft walls with the tip, and to lap and suck at the clit until you're begging for the stretch of his fat cock.)

The break up was understandable. When you'd greeted him in the café as if you'd spent the entire time you were apart crying, Atsumu knew it was over. 

You just repeated what you'd always said. It's okay to be vulnerable. If he needs some time to work out the right words then you'd always wait because I love you, 'Tsumu. 

(But there was that feeling again. Like he could die on the spot if you would so much as leave his sight.)

(Ending it was the only way out. When poison seeps itself into the bloodstream, you're left with no choice but to cut off a part of you.)

Unlike others, he can say that it was a clean parting. You wanted something and he was bad at it. And because he hated fucking up, Atsumu decided to leave. Easy. 

Really, the only people who didn't understand were his teammates.

"That's strange," Hinata spat, rice bursting to his chin when he suddenly faced Atsumu. "I don't think I've seen her for weeks now."

He could hear barely suppressed groans  behind him, no doubt from Bokuto and the others, before their spiker blurted out a confused, "What?"

Because, of course, Hinata could only mean one "her.” (There had only ever been one that Atsumu Miya allowed inside the team's gymnasium; inside his circle of friends; inside his life.)

Apparently, except for Hinata Shoyo, everyone had caught on that the both of you had thrown in the towel, so to speak. (And here they thought the guy's finally in it for real.)

"Nah, it's fine," Atsumu smirked, addressing it to everyone gathered around Samu's onigiri stand.  

"We broke up." 

He clicked his tongue. "It's not like there ain't no other fish in the sea."

The remark, casually said in between sips of cold coffee, was met with a gaping silence. 

That turned out to be right, like everything else that he'd predicted. 

A hole is a hole is a hole is a hole. No disrespect meant to you. But before you there had been many others who'd helped warm his bed. It just so happened that you got to stay for far longer. 

(Because waking up next to you meant waking up to that dreamy look, as if whoever's in charge up there has finally given you everything you've ever wanted.)

(And when he greets you with a hoarse good morning you say it back with eyes that tell him he's worth it, simply for being there.)

Anyway, going back to that old routine hadn't been difficult. 

(Except when he finally does it with someone new, for some reason he keeps searching for a different touch, expecting that endearing combination of inexperience and enthusiasm.)

(And when they cum he can't help but put a hand on their mouth, around their throat, because he's hearing the wrong voice, seeing the wrong face.) 

It's obvious, looking at him. Everyone can see that life's going pretty well for Atsumu. He can only hope that the same goes for you.

"You're miserable."

Peeling your attention away from the mother braiding her young daughter's hair, you hurriedly brought it back to the two women sitting in front of you.

"See?" Aya swung her hand in your direction. "Not even listening."

"No, no," you giggled sheepishly. Kaori was already pursing her lips.

"No, seriously. I am."

You sat upright, setting the chopsticks on your bento box. 

"Then what was it she said?" Kaori pressed. She folded her arms and you knew you were in trouble. 

"Uh..huh." You nodded. "Right. So. Um...."

"You didn't catch it," said Kaori.

"I didn't catch it," you winced.

Both girls sighed. 

The first three buttons of their blouses were open, the heat of the afternoon getting to them. And as they leaned back against the wooden bench, you had a feeling that they were about to give you the Conversation that's been waiting to happen for two long months.

That's why you'd decided to start it before they could. Just so it won't linger anymore painfully so.

“I know what you're going to say."

They only raised their brows, a mere "okay, go on" than an actual expression of surprise. 

"I've been sad. I haven't been..fine. That is true," you inhaled, preparing yourself for the agonizing part. Then, you released your breath.

"Ever since..'Tsu-" you gulped. "Ever since breaking up with Atsumu I haven't been feeling like myself but nowadays I'm getting back on my feet and I'm still working see so really there's no need to worry okay? Okay."

Aya grinned, but it didn't hold her usual devil-may-care humor to it. 

"You say that," she started, "but we’ll probably always be if you keep at that- at that⁠—"

"You're rarely in the moment," Kaori supplied, to which Aya replied with a harsh thank you. "You're distracted. And we know you're trying your best to be okay on your own. We've given you space, but remember that you have us."

Something was lodged in your chest and you found it hard to breathe. You'd missed them. You hadn't realized it, but you missed your friends. 

So much.

"Thank you," you whispered, forcing back  tears. "I- I wouldn't know what to do if it not for you two-"

"Hold it." Aya raised a palm. "Before you get corny again. Can I just say, I know he's your first dick-"

"Aya," Kaori murmured.

"And we all know it was good-"

"Aya," you hissed.

Your face burned as you searched from left to right, making sure no innocent being heard her.

"But can I just say," she slapped a palm on the surface of the table. "I don't care what you or the TV or his fans say about him! But the man's a walking red flag since day one!"

Kaori rolled her eyes. And despite yourself you couldn't keep a chuckle from bubbling. 

"Here we go again."

Aya almost rose from her seat. "When he sent that poor dude from accounting to the ER for just, I don't know, breathing your way, I knew something was up!"

You felt your smile die. 

That had been the first time it happened. You'd asked him what's wrong, after you'd rushed to the hospital, and all he gave you was silence. A whole day of it. He hadn't spoken a word about it, only that he'd warned you not to talk to that bastard again, or else.

(You'd learned, much, much later, that he doesn't do well with people that annoy him. That's what he said. You wanted to know more, but he suddenly decided that he had to make it up to you between the sheets.)

Kaori touched your hand. "Talk to us," she whispered.

You hummed as you shook your head. "I just remembered him," you said, only half of the truth.

If they knew it, they didn't let on. But Aya did say, "Tell you what. Company outing's upon us. So you know what that means?"

"Oh, I don't know," you mumbled apologetically. "I might sit this one out."

"No," Kaori gritted. 

Aya held your face with both hands as she  stared you down.

"You will buy yourself a new swimsuit. You will enjoy that cheap beach resort." 

The heaviness was lifting, bit by bit, as you felt your stomach ache with laughter. And with each silly word uttered by your friends, you could almost see the gray clouds overhead disappearing. Even for a little while.

"And you, you beautiful person you," Aya beamed. "Will finally, finally get laid."

Having best friends who are dead set on helping you get over an ex is a fearsome thing to behold, indeed. 

You couldn't even get a word in edgewise as they took you in a whirlwind of spas, salons, mani-pedis, and shopping bags. 

"Calm down. You rarely spend for yourself," Kaori told you when she'd caught you peeking forlornly at the frightening bill you'd amassed. 

But, try as you might to miss owning a fat wallet, you couldn't deny that you have no regrets wasting your money away. Not even for a single cent. Because you did feel amazing.

And when the day arrived, you couldn't help at the giddiness of having compliment after compliment thrown your way. 

"Is that really you?" said a co-worker when you'd boarded the bus. "You're glowing!"

During the games, as well, you'd often hear "Love the new look!" and "Have I ever told you before that you're so pretty? Because you are." And you'd preen with a soft-spoken thank you, having been taught by Kaori that denying a compliment makes one look stupid.  

It was so silly, honestly. Though not the part where, after a lovely comment, you'd be emboldened to strike an actual conversation. Learning that a coworker has a new baby now, or that so and so has recently moved up the corporate ladder; learning that, during your period of grief and self-pity (and even during the blissful time you’d spent with Atsumu), there were so many things you hadn't noticed.

You basked in it: the shower of pleasantries and anecdotes that had you feeling soft and fuzzy inside. The same way you lazed on the sandbar, clutching tiny conch shells in your hand, as you watched the sun tinge the sparkling waves with warm light.   

"Hey."

You jolted, turning towards the person who'd called your name. It was him. "Poor dude from accounting" as Aya dubbed him.

"Sano-san," you gasped, reaching for the towel beside you to cover up. "How- how are you?" 

Of all the people in your office, he was the last one you wanted to see. Solely for the reason that things have been awkward between you ever since that incident. A working relationship characterized by the literal turning of the other cheek whenever you two bumped into each other.

"Oh, pardon me," he scratched the back of his head. "Do you..want me to go?"

Yes. 

"No..!" you blurted out. "I think-"

The sun was almost setting. You wrapped the towel around you as you took in the balmy sea breeze. 

"I think I'm done hiding," you whispered, meeting his gaze for the first time in a long while, head on and baring the tiniest hint of shame, like how you did with your friends and other coworkers.

He didn't say anything, allowing you to continue. "I- It's nice. Talking to people again," you giggled. "Look, Sano-san. About before, I'm really sor-"

"Actually," he smiled. "That's why I'm here. Well, my partner pushed me but-"

You grinned at the blush that rose to his cheeks. 

"But I wanted to tell you: No hard feelings."

Sano-san extended a hand. You stared at it for a few seconds. His hand, then his face. Back to his hand, then his face again. And when you'd finally accepted it, it felt like witnessing the cage that’s imprisoned you for centuries finally open.

"By the way," he added, walking back towards an obviously amused fianceé. "It's a good look on you, being happy."

Atsumu entertained the possibility that maybe— just maybe, not everything was  fine the night the Jackals went home after an overseas tournament.

As soon as the plane landed on Japanese soil, the hunger he felt throughout the journey morphed into some kind of  anticipation, palpable through the thrill that electrified him into wakefulness. He might have left in a hurry, only half of his mind present when the Coach ordered for a short meeting. 

His foot tapped endlessly on the way⁠— while in the car; during the tedious elevator ride⁠— and when he'd finally entered his pad, slamming the door open with much eagerness than usual, Atsumu felt his heart plummet down his stomach when he was welcomed by a dark and empty hallway. 

You're not here. Not anymore.

Hasn't it been almost half a year now? Why did he expect you, face brightened by a grin that went from ear to ear, to materialize in front of him, with the smell of something delicious wafting from the kitchen? As if a magician with a hat trick.   

("Welcome back!" he was aching to hear.)

(You always insisted on eating with him when he got home; sometimes opting to just stay by his side⁠— munching on a midnight snack while you babbled on, if he arrived later than usual and you'd already had dinner.)

("It's lonely having a meal on your own," you explained. "Don't you think food tastes better if you have someone with you?")

Perhaps it was the jet lag. Or, it could be that the abrupt change in time zones was starting to mess with his head. Either way, Atsumu was sure that sleep would eventually cure him of the momentary delirium. 

But then he woke up the next day feeling like someone had pissed in his morning drink. The day after that, too. Even the next had been the same, persisting onto the following weeks. 

Until one game, after a winning streak that had the crowd chanting their names and with blood still roaring in his veins, he condescended to survey the numerous people occupying the bleachers. 

And when he couldn't find one⁠— one person that had always stood out to him despite being constantly drowned in an ocean of spectators— it was only then that Atsumu Miya decided that enough was enough. 

You hadn't really agreed with Aya when she told you that you'd be getting "laid" during this short vacation. 

Reason number one: it's a company outing. And you're sure you'd be breaking some protocols by fooling around with any of your coworkers. Reason Two: as you'd sagely imparted to a miffed Aya, "I don't think it's nice to cure a broken heart with sex; strings attached or no."

That being said, the lingerie she'd chosen for you did flatter your figure. It didn't matter that "no one would see it," as Aya grumbled. It was enough for you that you yourself saw it, you thought as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror. 

The way it was tailored made it seem like it was made just for your body. The details of lace also made it look so pretty that you felt kind of sad that you'd have to cover it up with a summer dress soon. 

Nevertheless, you allowed yourself to strike a few poses in front of the mirror; feeling like a teenager on their first date as you admired how you looked in it. 

You smiled to yourself, humming a tune, before you opened your makeup kit and prepared the necessities you'd be bringing for the bonfire dinner. 

"Wipes: check," you murmured, rummaging through your bag. "Hygiene stuff. Where are you hygiene stuff, hygiene stu⁠—"

You froze.

Something rustled. Outside. As if something had moved. 

Putting a robe back on, your heart thundered against your chest as you stepped out of the bathroom and into the dimly lit sleeping area, illuminated only by a small reading lamp.

"Be careful there, girlie," the old caretaker warned as she guided you to this room. "Lots of mean spirits lurking about."

You didn't believe in ghosts. For some reason, however, your coworkers did. So you'd taken it to yourself to move here after a room assignment mishap, leaving Aya and Kaori behind. 

It didn't seem like the cursed chamber that she purported to be. Sure, it was isolated at the furthest wing of the beach house, away from the other rooms and separated by a too dark hallway. But that had been the creepiest thing about it. Besides, you heard from logistics that renting the house didn't cost much, despite its size, so maybe it's just that they lacked the resources to renovate. 

The floorboards creaked beneath you. "Aya? Aya, I know it's you," you called out as you squinted, catching a faint silhouette reclined at the corner of the bed. 

It was too large to be Aya, but you chalked that up to the shadows playing with your eyes. You puffed out a chortle, resting a hand on your hips when she finally stood.   

"Very funny, Aya," you snorted when she sauntered towards you. "Just you wait until Kaori hears about.…" you trailed off.

"......this."

You drew in a breath as she moved closer, revealing a build that was much taller, towering almost in the small room, shoulders that are way broader than the ones your friend has, and a face that clearly wasn't Aya's.

"Evenin'," Atsumu yawned. 

Your legs refused to listen to you.

"Been a minute, hadn't it, darlin'?"

You don't know why he's here. 

And even if you wanted to ask, you find that no sound could escape from your mouth when you tried to open it.

You do know this, as he gave you a lopsided grin that used to have you eating at the palm of his hand, along with a lazy gaze that was belied by a bird-like focus:

That although he told you that all he wants is a little chat, you knew that he didn't come here just for that.

You ran.

Atsumu had been the worst boyfriend.

He's aware of it now, realized it fully when he knocked on Samu's door, shit-faced, and it only took a single look and a consoling arm from his brother to break Atsumu into tears and snot, as well as Samu's voice telling him, "Yer a big baby. Ya need her, dontcha?"

That's why he followed you here, figuring that you'd love a thoughtful surprise. Because you always have. He didn't expect you'd take to it kindly, of course, not right away. But he also didn't expect that you would be doing the surprising.

You were talking to that man when he arrived. 

Didn't he tell you not to?

His intentions still haven't changed. He's here to bring you back, but before anything else Atsumu's sure it's only normal that you guys clear things up first. 

And if you're going to do that, he can't have you running away now, can't he?

Grabbing you by the waist, Atsumu's palm tingled at the feel of your body, pulling you closer to him as he pinned you to the wall and stifled your shrieks with his hand.

"Everybody's gone, angel," he whispered, losing himself in your skin, though covered in silk; lips and fingers roaming every which way because finally, finally, fuckin' finally you're here and you're real.

"Just wanna talk." He stroked the curve of your ass, middle finger tracing the lining of the crack. "Ain't this what'ya always wanted? S'let's talk," he murmured against your collarbone.

You were already crying, shaky hands weakly grasping his back and tears wetting even his cheeks. Atsumu couldn't help but smile. You'd always been a crier. It's one of the many things he loves about you. Always so honest with your emotions.

"I missed ya," Atsumu groaned as he grinded his cock against your pussy, feeling it harden when he mouthed your tits.

There was something peeking out of your robe, he noticed as it became more rumpled. 

"D-don't," you breathed, your attempt to swat his hands away thwarted when he seized your wrist.

It was lace. The color pulling the eye to your body like a siren's song. And when he stripped the robe off of you, silk swishing down your elbows, Atsumu saw that it was a piece of lingerie. One that he hasn't seen before.

Because he didn't buy this one. It wasn't from him. You weren't the type to get one yourself. 

Until now.

"This for him?" he murmured, pressing a kiss against your pulse, beating like a drum against his lips. 

"Wh-who?" you whimpered.

"The ugly piece of shit. Saw you guys gettin' chummy earlier."

He was close, too close to you, back at the beach. You smiled at him, laughed and showed him what he isn't supposed to see. And when he touched you— when the fucker touched you, Atsumu wanted blood on his hands.

"Yer gonna fuck the guy whose face I busted?" 

You squeaked as he dug his blunt nails against your wrist. Atsumu licked the red impressions they made.

"And what- what about it?" Your voice was so brittle and small. God, he just wanted to hold you. "It's none of your business, who I spend my time with. And don't- don't tell me you're jealous because-"

He chuckled, the sound of it making you shrink back into the wall. "Jealous? Doll, ya wouldn't wanna know what I'm feelin right now. But, sure." Atsumu lightly nipped at the tips of your fingers. 

"'Course I'm jealous," he rasped. "You're mine."

Then, Atsumu looked at you. And what he saw in your eyes made him stumble that when you shoved him away, all he could do was stand and stare.

"I'm not your thing, Atsumu," you cried. A light-year difference from the girl who'd always stare at him so tenderly. "I never was and I never will be. I'm not yours."

You didn't run this time. You should've. 

Atsumu clenched his jaw. "Like hell ya ain't," he snarled.

People say that breakups are a messy business. Atsumu was so sure he wouldn't have to endure that, before he met you.  Now that he's had the experience, though, Atsumu can say with confidence that breakups are, in fact, a goddamn mess.

But you're over that now. It's time to turn over a new leaf and return to one another. And Atsumu's finding out, in the process, that making up can be astonishingly reminiscent of the breakup.

You started crying when you woke up, screaming for help as you tried to budge the rope that was tying your hands to your knees. You got louder when you found out that you were naked and not in the rickety confines of the beach house. 

"Welcome home, baby," he beamed, eying you from between your legs. 

The begging started when you realized how drenched your little pussy was, his tongue lapping and slathering the cum dripping from your twitching hole, against  your swollen folds; his calloused thumb massaging deep circles on your clit. 

And when he stuck another inside your puckered asshole, you writhed out of your binds and squealed, "T-tsumu-kun…!"

Fuck. 

"Babydoll," he growled. "Daddy's gotcha, daddy's gonna treat ya so fuckin' good."

He slapped your damp cunt with his long fingers, thrusting them inside to rub and feel at your walls, at the bump that never failed to make you screech. "Daddy's been mean hasn't he? Hm? Been a bad daddy to ya, baby?"

You could only gasp out wordlessly as he slurped the juices off your clit, not stopping until you were gushing, sloppy cum drizzling on the bedsheet, every muscle in spasms, incapable of even stretching out your legs although Atsumu knew you wanted to, you really wanted to so fuckin' bad, resorting to curling your toes instead. 

"E-enough, please, please, stop!"

How adorable, Atsumu thought. "My little slut," he cooed, tapping the tip of his hard cock on your pussy. "My good 'lil fucktoy."

He relished it, wanting to draw this on forever, so he slides it against your folds, pussy lips wrapping the meat of his cock, gyrating his hips back and forth, as if he were fucking you, and grabbing your tits to play with your nipples. 

"Atta girl," he laughed, licking his teeth when he finally sunk inside your tight cunt, pushing you so far down into the mattress until his chest was rubbing against your tits, your feet dangling against his shoulders.

"I don't-I don't want this, 'Tsumu," you sobbed. "Don't want this!"

Oh, of course you don't. Atsumu knows you don't. He'd fucked you against your will, after all. 

But you were taking him so well, darlin'. Your walls were hugging his cock so fuckin' nicely that he couldn't help but shove deeper inside you, craving for the way your pussy twitched rapidly around him. 

If you weren't bound, he's also sure that you'd be pushing his hips away. But that's not what's getting to him. Because as he pistoned his cock into you, heavy balls slapping against your ass, you instantly turned your face away.

Did you know that you were breaking his heart? Shattering it to pieces, when you close your eyes like doors, locking them to prevent him from ever reaching you again. 

So he gripped your chin. Forced you to meet his eyes as you wept and shook your head. 

"Am gonna be better, baby," he groaned.  "No more keeping things from ya. None of that bullshit, now."

Atsumu shivered as you came around him, convulsing under him and strained voice still begging him to stop. Because he wasn't. He would never stop. Not when it comes to you. 

"Am all yours, angel. All yours." He pounded your fucked out cunt, chasing his own high as he kneaded your tits. 

A tear fell from your eyelids. And when he kissed you, it felt like everything in his life shifted back in its rightful place. "You can have it all," he sighed, cupping your cheek.

"So give me all of you now," Atsumu pleaded. "Come back to me."

[thevampiresiren]

Gone Too Soon

Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

Genre: ANGST, Fluff, Smut

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: You and Leon end up having a miscarriage and he heavily blames himself. Now he wants to try again.

WARNINGS: miscarriage, cursing, alochol as a coping mechanism, depression, self doubt, oral sex (m&f), fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (stay safe my friends!)

A/N: I know this is a VERY touchy subject. I personally have never had a miscarriage but I know someone who has so this may not be 100% accurate. Also this is my first time writing smut so sorry if it sucks😅

Lennox is pronounced Len (rhymes with pen) nox (Nyx like the makeup brand or Nick's)

Leon never really wanted to have kids. With your all's job and the world that everyone was living in with B.O.W.s and death knocking on the door, the last thing he ever wanted was bringing another life into it. So when you first told him you were pregnant, it didn't settle well with him. Leon didn't see himself as the parenting type and the thought of something happening to you or the baby terrified him. But now that you both had accepted it and you were now 7 weeks pregnant, Leon couldn't be happier. He was always rubbing and littering your lower belly with kisses, telling it how much he loved the little being growing inside of you.

"I hope we have a girl." Leon said while you two were laying in bed. His right hand was gently rubbing your belly while he had his left arm around you, pulling you to his chest.

"As long as they have your blue eyes, I don't care what we have." You said smiling moving a strand of your husband's blonde hair out of his face. Even though he was only in his black sweatpants, you couldn't help but think of how handsome he was. Leon rolled his eyes smiling, kissing you and your belly goodnight.

A few hours later you rolled out of bed to head to the bathroom. You had thought that your bladder was just full and the pressure was just from having to relive yourself. When Leon awoke from you screaming his name, he thought someone had come in and attacked you. He jumped out of bed and sprinted for the bathroom door busting it open.

"Babe! What's wro-." Leon stood to doorway of the bathroom and found you laying on the floor with your hands and disheveled h/c locks covering your face and crying your eyes out. You had removed your sleep pants and underwear and he tried his best to look away from them and what was on them. He sat on the floor beside you and pulled you in his lap; your head on his bear chest as you sobbed while your hands were in fists. He rubbed your back trying to soothe you and trying to ignore the aching pain in his heart. After a few minutes your cries of pain turned into faint sobs.

"We need to go to the hospital, Sweetheart. We need to see what's going on" Leon said just above a whisper. He knew in his mind exactly what happened. You both did, but he needed to make sure you yourself was actually okay physically.

*****

It had been ten months since you and Leon had lost the baby. To say Leon was depressed was an understatement. At the beginning of the loss he stayed strong for your sake. Always telling you it wasn't your fault, you didn't disappoint him, and that he loved you more than anything else in the world. But he was so focused on you and your grieving, that he never got to properly grieve himself. He started drowning himself in alcohol again to numb the pain and became more aggressive towards Claire and Chris. Tonight was no different when you got a call at 8pm from Claire.

"Y/N... Its Leon... He's been drinking too much and he's refusing to head home." She said in a sad voice. Your heart sank at the thought of Leon drowning himself in alcohol instead of coming to you.

"I'll be right there, Claire. Can you and your brother keep an eye on him for me until I get there?"

"Of course."

You grabbed your jacket and car keys and headed out to where Claire said Leon was.

When you parked the car outside of the bar, you saw Claire standing outside of it. She walked over to you after you got out of the car and pulled you into a tight hug.

"Are you doing okay? I haven't seen you since..." Claire cut herself off not wanting to cross any lines.

"I'm doing the best I can. I just want to get Leon back to the house though and get some sleep." Claire nodded and the two of you headed into the building. When you entered you caught Chris with his hand on Leon's arm, trying to force his attention causing Leon to shove him away forcefully.

"WILL YOU JUST FUCKING LEAVE, REDFIELD."

"NOT UNTIL YOU GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS AND HEAD BACK HOME TO YOUR WIFE."

"GUYS!" Claire shouted, forcing the two to look over at her and Leon's eyes to focus on your form standing beside her. You walked over to stand beside Leon, causing Chris to move out of way and stand beside Claire. You placed your hand on top of his shoulder, looking into his broken eyes.

"Babe, I-"

"Not now, Leon." You softly said cutting him off. "Please, just come home." Your voice shaking. It took him a few moments but he gave a slight nod before picking up his leather jacket and heading towards the exit. You looked other at Chris and he gave you a sad smile while Claire told you to call her if you needed anything.

The drive back home was silent between the two of you. You focused on driving while Leon looked back and forth between the outside window and his lap, the alcohol slowly wearing off. When you arrived back your place, you hopped into the shower to de-stress yourself. When you walked back into the living room, you saw Leon sitting on the couch, eyes shut, hand on a glass of whiskey that was sitting on his thigh. You walked over to the sit beside him and wrapped your arms around his waist, your head on his chest. You felt Leon relax to your touch as he let out a deep sigh.

"Leon... We need to talk about this."

Leon went to bring the glass of alcohol up to his lips, but your hand on top of the glass and staled his movements. He looked down into your e/c eyes before pulling away and placing the glass on the coffee table.

"I'm so fucking sorry... Its my fault we lost the baby." Leon said looking down to the floor trying to hold back his tears.

"What the hell are you-"

"I didn't want kids. I never wanted kids. And I was so upset when I first found you were pregnant and blamed myself for not being careful enough." He said looking into your eyes facing you. "But then I got so fucking happy. I started loving the idea of seeing the first sonogram, hearing the heartbeat, feeling the kicks in your belly, you being called "mommy", and having another reason to keep this shithole we call the world safe." You noticed his voice started shaking more and tears were on the verge of escaping his now dull blue eyes. You weren't going to speak just yet, no matter how hard you wanted to cry. He needed to get everything out. Leon looked down at your wedding ring, and held onto your hand like his life depended on it.

"I thought three years ago when we got married that having you as my wife was the best feeling in the world and losing you would kill me. But us having a family was best feeling in the world and it was taken away from me because I was too selfish and scared in the beginning. And I want kids now but I'm terrified of them being taken away from me like this again." he said allowing his tears finally fall.

You wrapped your arms around his shaking form and laid down in the couch, situation yourself so he could lay his head on your chest. You gently ran your fingers through his soft golden locks to soothe him, letting your tears fall as well.

"Leon... this is not your fault and its absolutely NOT the world punishing you. You were scared and didn't know what to do. Hell, I was terrified." You lifted up his face to have him focus on you, gently stroking his stubbley cheek with your thumb.

"But you can NOT blame yourself for this. I love you too fucking much to see you fight yourself and think that world is punishing you for being scared." Your were crying in full force now. Leon gently grabbed the back of your neck, placing a gentle and loving kiss on your lips. You kissed him back smiling. Leon slowly pulled away, letting your noses still touch.

"I love you too, Angel." He said smiling, running his finger through your soft h/c locks. He paused for a moment, thinking about you, your lives, and everything that you both had been through. He looked into your e/c eyes with his loving blue ones.

"I want us to try again. I want a baby. Please, Sweetheart?"

Your heart swelled at the words coming from him. You've been wanting to try again over the last month, but were terrified of the outcome. But more than that you were willing to risk it all to have a family with the love of your life. With a giant smile on your face you said "Yes, Leon.".

That was all he needed to hear before he captured your lips in a deep passionate kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck while he pulled closer to his body. Leon’s tongue gently licked your lips for an entrance that you happily allowed, making you quietly moan and sent shivers down your spine. His started slowing lifting your t-shirt up to caress your breasts and removed your bra while kissing down your neck leaving gentle bite marks. You let out a sigh  and pushed Leon's jacket off of him, making him discard it somewhere on the floor. Leon wrapped your legs around his waist and picked you up to head to the bedroom. He gently laid you down on the bed and hovered over you smiling.

"Aww, no couch sex this time?" You joked pouting your lips. Leon chuckled and peck your lips. He leaned back and removed his shirt revealing his toned body. You felt yourself getting more hot by the looking at the man above you who you loved for than life its self . As you scanned his body you noticed in his tight jeans that he was just as excited as you were. You reached your hands out to his waist to undo his belt when his hands gently grabbed your wrists. Leon looked down at you with his now dark navy blue lust and love filled eyes before placing your hands down to your sides.

"Not yet, Sweetheart." He said in a sultry voice causing your arousal to heighten. Leon removed your jeans in one swift motion. You look down at him as he place his large calloused hands on waist line of your panties, slowly pulling them off. The cool air caused you too shiver as it met your hot wet folds. You let out a quiet moan as he began kissing your inner thigh.

"Fuck. your soaking, Babe." Leon said while collecting your wetness.

"Leon... Please" you moaned. He smiled and gave your clit a gentle kiss before giving your heat the attention your body had been craving. His slow licks over your folds and feeling of facial hair rubbing against you set a fire inside of you. You felt your stomach begin to tighten when he began licking circles on your sensitive bud. Leon pushed your thighs up and further apart, giving him better access to suck on your clit and folds. A loud moan left your lips at the feeling and you tugged on his silky blonde locks. Leon moaned at the sting on his scalp, lavishing in the feeling and taste of your juices. He slowly inserted his index and in middle fingers into your wet cavern, rubbing that sensitive spot inside of you.

"Fuuck, Leon." You moaned bucking your hips against his tongue and fingers. Your walls tighten around his fingers, signaling that you were close to your high. Leon moved his fingers faster, making your back lift off the bed and toes curl. Your orgasm took over your body, leaving you breathless. Your body shook and your juices soaking the sheets. Leon removed his fingers from inside you to lick off the mess on them and rubbed your thighs. He gently kissed your lips, allowing you to taste your release.

"You good, baby?" He said smirking while resting his forehead against yours. Catching your breath, you smiled.

"Better than good. But I think its only fair if I pay you back." You said smirking. Leon sat on his knees and allowed your hands removed his belt. With his help you removed his jeans and boxer briefs. His hard dick hit right below his belly button, the tip an angry red with a little bit of precum making your mouth drool. You positioned yourself so that you were sat up a little but still laying down and he was above you. You placed your hands around him and gently started stroking then up and down. Leon took a deep breath as you ran you thumb over his sensitive head before slowly taking him into your mouth. His length was hot and heavy on your tongue and the taste of his precum only turned you on more. You swirled your tongue around his tip and gently kissed it before kissing up from his pelvis to his faint happy trail while you continued to stroke him.

"God, you're going to be the end of me." Leon moaned out, looking into your e/c while gently stroking your cheek. Your smirked and popped him back into your mouth. You bobbed your head up and down while stroking what couldn't fit into your mouth. Leon gently pulled you away kissed your lips, making you lay back down. You looked up at him confused.

"Not tonight, Babygirl.". He said before he slowly slid himself inside of you, kissing your forehead. You let out a soft moan at the feeling of him stretching your tight walls.

"Fuck..." Leon groaned at how tight you were. He moved his hips at a slow but deep pace while nipping at your neck collar bone. You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him as close to you as physically possible so your bodies were flushed against each other. He slowly started picking up his pace, lifting your legs around his waist so he could hit the spot inside you that made you see stars. Your body felt like it was in fire, your nails digging into his back. Your walls hugged him like a vice, showing that you were close, making him moan into your neck.

"I love you." He whispered, his ocean eyes staring in yours with your foreheads and noses touching.

"I lo- love you too, Leon. So much." You said as you felt almost reaching your high. Leon placed his thumb on clit, tracing circles around. You moaned loudly, Leon kissing you passionately as you came hard. As you felt yourself come undone, your second orgasm much more intense than the first; you felt Leon cum inside of you. The warmth of his seed soothing your aching walls, he gently pulled away from the kiss. He rubbed his nose against yours while gently rubbing your sides with him still inside of you as he began softening. Both of you held each other close, trying to catch your breathes. After a few minutes, Leon slowly pulled himself out of you, both of you whimpering as you missed the feeling of each other. He pulled you close, laying your head on top of his chest and wrapping the covers over the both of you.

"You okay?" Leon asked tired while stroking your cheek. You moved a strand of his disheveled hair out of his face.

"I've never been better." You said with a tired smile, bringing him into a gentle kiss. "I love you, Leon." You said.

Leon smiled, pulling you closer to him.

"I love you more.".

****

"The files for the new job are in the manila envelope over there." You said pointing to the kitchen island.

"Another? I just came back from one." Leon said as he walked over to you.

"Yeah, but apparently were working on this one together." You said shrugging your shoulders.

Leon sat down at the island and opened the envelope and saw some papers and another white envelope. Leon looked over the papers and saw that one was actually a blood test from the doctor's and one thing stood out to him

Y/N  Kennedy:

Pregnancy Test- Positive

Leon stared at the words in front of him for a moment in awe. He jumped from where he was sitting, knocking the bar stool over, and ran over to you gently placing his hands on your belly.

"You're pregnant?!  How far along are you?!" Leon asked excited.

You laughed at how he was basically acting like a kid getting the best Christmas present he could have gotten.

"Yup. I'm 10 weeks and the baby is as healthy as they can be."

Leon picked you up in his strong arms and gently twirled you around kissing you.

"You still have another thing to open, Kennedy." You said when he set you down, handing him the little envelope.

Leon looked at you and opened it. In the envelope were sonogram pictures. Leon felt tears fall down his face as he looked at the pictures. The pictures that symbolized your loved for each other. The little creation that was made out of the of you. Leon slightly jumped as he felt you wrapped your arms about his waist from beside him and kiss his chest; he instinctively wrapped his left arm around your shoulder pulling you close.

"So, Mr. Kennedy. Are you ready to complete this mission with me?" You said looking up and smiling.

Leon set the sonogram down before wiping the tears from his face. He gently kissed your lips "Always, Mrs. Kennedy.".

****Epilogue****

Leon stepped through the front door of the house barley getting his shoes off before he heard the thumping of little feet.

"DADDY! I MISSED YOU." Your three-year-old daughter came running towards Leon and jumped into his arms.

Leon smiled at the girl with cute freckles and moved a strand of her h/c hair out of her face, gently kissing her forehead.

"Hi Princess, I missed you too. Where's Mommy?" He asked.

"I'm in here." You called from your shared bedroom.

"C'mon Daddy!" Your daughter said, as her gorgeous bright blue eyes she got from her father sparkled.

"Lennox, why don't you go grab a book for Daddy to read to you for bed?" you said.

"Okay, Mommy!" Lennox ran as fast as her little legs could take her into her bedroom to grab her book. Leon smiled at you. You were in one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers that you had been wearing to bed as of late

 “I missed my girls" Leon said while wrapping his arms around your waist, his hands landing on the small bump of your stomach. "He giving you a hard time?" He ask as he kissed your shoulder and laid his head on the crook of your neck. Leon could tell you were exhausted by how you relaxed immediately in his arms.

"Yeah, I haven't been able to keep anything down all day. Nyx was never this terrible when I was pregnant with her. He's going to be a stubborn pain in the ass like you". You said smiling causing Leon to laugh. He gently turned you around and kneeled down so he was at eye level with your belly and placed a gentle hand on it.

"Listen here little buddy. Give your mom a break okay? She's amazing and loves you very much. But she can't handle too us or she'll lose her shit." He gently spoke. You both felt a little kick from inside, almost like the little one was responding to you making you both laugh.

"Good, I'm glad we're on the same page kiddo." Leon said while kissing your stomach.

"I GOT IT!!" Lennox announced as she came back into the bedroom. Leon picked her up and carefully threw her over his shoulder making her laugh hysterically as he carried her into her room. You followed them into Lennox’s room and smiled as Leon kneeled down next to her bed and began tickling and giving her kisses. Once your daughter was asleep, the two of headed to bed yourselves. You laid down beside your husband and he began rubbing your belly again.

“'Not father material my ass" you said chuckling.

Leon rolled his eyes smiling before kissing your forehead. “I wouldn’t have this any other way.” He said looking into your eyes.

“Me either. I love you Leon Scott Kennedy.”

“I love you more Y/N Kennedy."

[cinemassance-oneshots]

Don’t Touch Her—Spencer Reid

Word count: 3.6k

angst and fluff

Synopsis: you and Reid go undercover for a case and it goes wrong. You finally hear how Reid feels about you.

Warnings: mention of violence and gore.

A/N: I’m quite new to one shots, so I hope you enjoy. You are free to send in requests. I am still new to tumblr, so I hope to figure stuff out soon on here. I plan to do more characters, make a master list pinned to my board, and do smut chapters in the future <3

I was originally getting my morning coffee until I got the call from Garcia. I pressed my lips together as she confirmed it was another case before I proceeded to ask what coffee she wanted. If I ever got a call about a case and I was already at a coffee shop, I would grab coffee for the rest of the team. It was only fair, and they would do the same for me. We’re all a family.

I carefully carried the trays of coffee in my hands to the building.

“Do you need a hand?” I didn’t have to look up to see who it was. I would know that voice anywhere.

I turned to look at him with a smile. “That would be great, Spence.”

He shot me a smile as he reached over and grabbed a tray. The brief contact of our skin touching made my heart flutter momentarily.

Without hesitation, Spencer opened the door and let me in. “You shouldn’t spoil us with coffee all the time.”

I shrugged my shoulders as I glanced up at him. “It’s fine. I’m keeping tabs,” I joked. “Don’t worry. I got your coffee how you like. Although, I don’t understand why you insist on dairy since you’re lactose intolerant.”

“What can I say? I like dairy.” “But tummy aches,” I replied. “A little pain is worth it.”

I rolled my eyes at him. He could be so stubborn at times. We stepped into the elevator to go meet the rest of our team. Most of them were already seated at the table.

“You’re such a life-saver,” JJ told me with a grin. I smiled back as I started to hand everyone their coffees.

“Last, but not least,” I said as I turned to face Spencer. “Dr. Reid,” I finished in a softer tone. I could’ve sworn I saw him gulp, but I was probably imagining it.

As soon as everyone showed up, Garcia went on to tell us about the new case. We all flipped through our files as she spoke. It’s not hard to admit this job is difficult, especially with how monstrous some people are.

“Wheels up in 30,” Hotch told us as he left the room.

***

Spencer and I were partnered to go to the coroner’s office. The person went over the details as I looked at the bodies and Spencer read the files.

“Can he really read that fast,” the woman asked me, making me briefly glance up at her.

“Yes,” I replied before looking back at the bodies. “You said the male was most likely hit with an iron chain that was also used to strangle him afterwards?”

“That’s what it points to. Why?”

“Wielding a big chain is a lot harder than most people tend to believe,” Spencer informed as he handed her the file back.

“Here’s the other thing though,” the forensics started to speak, “the female victim had lacerations on her skin from leather. It’s possible she was whipped with leather while he was whipped with a chain.”

“We could be looking at two unsubs,” I thought out loud as I looked up at Spencer. He nodded.

“I think so too.” “I’ll call Hotch.”

I stepped outside of the room as I called him. Not long after Hotch answered. “What did you guys find?”

“We’re looking for two unsubs. One is strong enough to wield an iron chain as a whip and the other is weaker since they used a leather whip on the female victim.”

“Thanks. If you and Reid find anything else, let me know.”

And with that, the call ended. I found my way back to Spencer to catch up on any more details he learned. He caught me up on the information, which shocked forensics to see he spoke every detail verbatim.

We thanked the woman before leaving to head to the precinct to catch up with the team.

“What are you thinking Reid?” I glanced over at him as I drove. It was as if I could see the wheels turning in his head.

“I know it seems weird, but I think it might be a couple who committed these murders.”

“So the guy kills the male and the girl kills the female. They probably get off on watching each other torture and kill their victim.”

“The male uses a chain to beat and kill the guy showing his dominance and strength.”

“And the woman uses a leather whip which is usually associated with BDSM.”

“Exactly,” Spencer agreed.

As soon as Spencer and I got to the precinct, we told the team what we came up with and what forensics showed. We all went around putting in our input based on the evidence all of us gathered and learned.

Unfortunately, that’s when we all received news there were more victims just found.

I went with Emily and Morgan to look at the crime scene. The victimology was the same. The male was brutally tortured and killed with a metal chain and the female with a leather whip. It’s unsettling to know there are couples who do these things together, let alone a single person.

Once we returned to meet with the rest of the team, we learned each couple went to the same bar the night they went missing. It was no coincidence. That bar meant something to that couple. With all the information we gather, we were finally ready to deliver the profile.

After it was delivered, Hotchner began to talk about a plan he had in mind.

“We need to set up an undercover operation for tonight,” Hotch spoke. “We’ll have multiple people stationed throughout the area to keep an eye out.”

Everyone nodded. Everyone understood the plan.

“Two of my agents will be the ones going undercover. I need as many others as possible to be around the area ready to catch this couple. Be careful and aware of everything, but remember to be subtle. We don’t want to announce our presence before they’ve made themselves known. Any alarm could ruin this.”

And with that the plan was set in motion.

Hotch pulled me and Spencer aside to speak with us. “I need you two to go undercover as the couple.”

I almost wanted to look at Spencer and imagine it was all real. I desperately wanted to know what it would be like to be with him, but I made sure to keep my mind fixated on the case at hand.

JJ helped me get ready. I wasn’t exactly great at doing my makeup myself, so I was glad she helped.

“Try to explain to me why you and Reid aren’t dating in real life again,” she asked with a small smirk.

“I don’t know..,” I softly said.

That was the truth. I didn’t know how to make a move or what to do with Spencer. Every time I thought about it, my palms would sweat profusely and my heart would race that I would have to change the subject in my head.

“I see the way you both look at each other. Trust me, everyone does.”

I quirked a brow. “What?”

JJ let out a small chuckle. “After we close this case, I think you should go for it. I just hope you do it soon, otherwise I’ll lose this bet going on.”

“You have a bet going on about me and Spencer?”

JJ did a sly smile and shrugged her shoulders. “Good luck tonight. We’ll make sure nothing happens to you two.”

“Thanks, JJ.”

I felt a little odd wearing a dress. I prefer slacks or skirts but dresses always felt different to me. I at least felt more secure having one of my smaller guns strapped to my thigh.

“Hey, hot mama,” Derek said with a grin.

I lightly punched his arm. “I can still kick your ass, Morgan.”

He let out a laugh as I rolled my eyes. Hotch walked up and handed me my earpiece. “We’ll be listening to everything. We’ll tell you and Reid if we notice something.”

I nodded as I listened and put the piece in. I let my hair fall over it to help conceal the device.

As soon as Reid walked over, my heart raced at the site of him. It was rare to see him in jeans and a plain button down. He looked good in anything.

Hotch gave him his earpiece as well and told him what he just told me. I almost felt that out of the corner of my eye I saw Reid glance at me a few times.

Spencer and I made our way outside of the precinct to use one of the undercover cars to drive to the place. He got on the drivers side.

“You, uh, look really pretty,” Spencer spoke. His voice came out a little broken and nervous.

I felt my cheeks heat up as I smiled. “Thanks. JJ did a good job.”

I watched as his mouth parted but closed after a second. I wanted so desperately to know what he was planning on saying. Usually he never thought about not speaking once something was on his mind. It made me even more curious.

“You look good too,” I decided to speak. I watched as he gulped and lightly blushed.

“I-I do? I haven’t worn jeans in about 20 years.”

“You always look good,” I mumbled. I was afraid he would hear what I said.

“What?”

“Oh, sorry,” I replied in a fast tone. “I was mumbling to myself.”

“Oh… Okay.”

I glanced over and saw a ghost of a smile on his lips. My heart raced as I asked myself if he heard me or not.

When we arrived at the bar, Spencer opened the door for me like he usually does.

“Such a gentleman.” I smiled and looked up at him.

“Well, you deserve the best.”

My heart fluttered. Did he mean himself? Was he trying to be the best he could? For me?

He held out his hand before I grasped it in my own. I couldn’t deny that it was a wonderful feeling holding his hand. Mine felt so small in his.

We walked inside to find it crowded. Apparently it was a popular bar. It was also happy hour, so that explained a lot of things.

“What would you like to drink,” Spencer leaned in and asked me. His breath on my skin sent exciting shivers down my back.

“Cranberry juice. That way it looks like I might be drinking a mixed drink,” I whispered to him. He nodded.

I don’t know how long we were there, but it felt like a while. Spencer and I sat at the bar sipping our drinks, talking, and looking around inconspicuously.

I leaned in and whispered into Spencer’s ear. “I don’t know if this will be enough to attract them. But when I pull away, act as if I said something enticing to you.”

When I pulled away, I saw a smile on Spencer’s lips as he looked at me.

“I’ve never seen you two in before.”

Spencer and I turned to see a guy in his mid-30’s holding two beers.

“We’re just visiting. We had to try this place out because we kept hearing so many good things,” I replied with a smile.

“We always love welcoming new people. I’m John, by the way. That’s my fiancé Cindy over there.”

He turned and pointed to a blonde woman seated at a table who waved over at us with a bright smile.

“Fiancé? Congratulations,” I told him. “When is the special day?”

“We’re still settling on one. You both are more than welcome to join us at our table.”

I looked over at Spencer to meet his eyes. “Does that sound good, Matt?”

He nodded with a smile as we walked over and joined them at the table.

“Hi, I’m Cindy,” the woman said with a smile.

“June.” “Matt.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both. I hope John wasn’t bothering you. We’ve just never seen your faces around here before.”

“We’re visiting,” I answered.

Something in my gut told me this was them, but I didn’t have any proof. Yet.

We spoke with them a for a while. Without thinking, I reached under the table and searched for Spencer’s hand. It was almost like he knew because his hand found mine and squeezed it reassuringly.

“How about another round of drinks,” John asked as he stood up.

“I’ll come with,” Spencer replied as he stood up.

They left leaving me and Cindy alone. “You’re a lucky girl,” she told me.

“You are too. You and John look so happy together.”

“But the way Matt looks at you,” she spoke and bit her lip lightly. “John never looks at me that way. You got yourself a winner.”

“I think we both do.”

I suddenly had a nausea wave over me. “Woah, hun! You okay there?”

“Yeah, I, um—where’s the restroom?”

“Here, I’ll help you. You don’t look so good.”

I didn’t have time to think since I felt like I was about to puke any second. Cindy stood up and helped me stumble my way to the restroom.

I rushed into a stall and immediately threw up. I plucked the piece out of my ear and held it in my palm so the others wouldn’t have to listen to me puking. I know I wouldn’t want to listen to it.

I slumped over after I finished.

“Are you finished yet?”

I could barely form a word as I glanced over and saw the end of a barrel. How could I be so stupid? I just hoped someone would come crashing into the bathroom to get her, but no one came.

“Get up,” she told me.

I could barely stand as I did what she told me to do. I briefly looked around and noticed the restroom didn’t look like a public one but a single person one. I cursed myself in my head.

She grasped my arm tightly and held the gun to my side. “Walk with me like normal and I won’t kill you right here. I want to at least have some fun before I do that.”

There was excitement laced in her voice. It made me sick again hearing it. How someone could be so excited to kill something else. Another human being.

I was led to a van. Every step I prayed someone would come help. Anyone.

I was shocked inside with the door immediately closed behind me. I threw up again. I couldn’t think of when my drink could’ve been drugged.

My legs and arms felt numb as I slumped onto the floor of the van. I wanted to reach for my gun or do something, but my body wouldn’t let me.

I could barely make out the sound of Spencer’s voice as he clung onto me.

“What did you do to her,” he demanded. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him so angry.

“Relax, why don’t you,” John snapped. “She’ll be conscious enough soon.”

And with that, Spencer went unconscious beside me after the end of a gun butted against his temple.

***

My eyelids flickered open adjusting to the lightly. My arms were tied being my back with rope. I looked over to find an unconscious Spencer. I knew my gun was snatched away by them, so the hopes with that were gone.

I softly spoke his name as I tried to move closer to him. A hum left his throat as his head slightly moved. I nudged him lightly a few times.

As soon as his eyes opened, they landed on me with a worried expression.

“Did they hurt you?”

I shook my head as I looked at the small patch of blood on his temple.

“Is your head okay?”

“It’ll be fine… I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Spence.”

“I should’ve paid attention more, then we wouldn’t be here. I could’ve done more to protect us, protect you,” he said as he looked away.

“Spence, look at me,” I pleaded. “None of this is your fault. We’ll get out of this.”

I looked around, but we were in a completely bare room with nothing that could help us. When I looked back at Spencer, he was looking at me.

“Why are you looking at me that way?”

“I want to make sure the imprint of your features are engraved in my brain in case something happens.”

How could he make my heart swarm in a situation like this?

“This might sound insanely morbid, but if I had to die with anyone, I’m glad you’re the last person I’ll see.”

A small chuckle left his throat. I loved that sound so much.

“That is extremely morbid, but I understand what you mean... I have to tell you something.”

I stayed silent to let him know I was listening. I watched as he glanced down and swallowed hard.

“I want you to know that I’ve liked you ever since you joined the team… I regret never doing anything about it. I guess I was scared.”

Spencer slowly looked back up at me. I almost felt like I was going to cry from both the situation and finally hearing those words leave his mouth.

“I like you too, Spence.”

I wanted to say more, but the door busted open and the couple walked in.

“Well, ain’t that precious,” John said in an amused tone.

Cindy walked closer to me. I tried to move away, but I was helpless.

“Don’t touch her,” Spencer demanded as he lunged forward but was held back my John.

“You don’t get to make demands. I can’t wait to see you watch her die. Cindy is amazing with her craft.”

I felt sick at his words as she wrapped a hand around my throat. Her grasp tightened as she pulled me up. John ordered Spencer to get up as well as they led us to another room.

Spencer was forced into a chair and was tied down as my arms were lifted above me to be locked to a chain.

I watched with disgust as Cindy stroked Spencer’s face. “Oh, I’m gonna enjoy this one. He loves her so much.”

She smiled wickedly as she glanced up from beside him. “I can’t wait to see the look on your face when she takes her last breath. I’m getting turned on just thinking about it.”

“Kill me first,” his voice broke out.

“What?”

“Kill me first. It should be me.”

I yanked on the chain as tears threatened to stream down my cheeks. I wanted to scream at him for saying such a thing.

Cindy stood up as she hummed. “I thought John told you that you don’t get to make demands.”

I kept my eyes on Spencer that I didn’t even notice her pick up her whip. It wasn’t until the first slash cut into my skin that I noticed.

A cry erupted from my mouth as my eyes squeezed shut.

Spencer screamed out as he tried to get out of the chair to help in some way. Tears poured down both of our faces.

I could feel my own blood run down my skin as the slashes kept coming. It soaked my torn clothing and my body. My throat finally started to feel hoarse from my cries. My legs couldn’t even keep my body up. Only the chain kept me up.

“FBI, put your weapons down!”

I could barely raise my head to see what was going on. I heard a shot ring out before I felt hands on me.

Spencer gently held me and made sure to not touch the cuts as someone else freed my wrists from the chains. I fell into his arms as he kept me up.

“I need a medic,” he cried out.

My heartbeat was going incredibly fast. The pain was unbearable.

“Someone get a medic now!”

Everything was a blur. One moment I was in Spencer’s arms, then I was in an ambulance with Spencer holding my hand firmly in his before I went unconscious.

***

I woke up in a hospital bed.

I felt something beside me and saw Spencer’s hand holding mine with his head slumped over on the bed asleep. A small smile formed on my lips.

I moved to readjust as I felt a wave of pain sear throughout my body. I hissed at the sensation, which immediately woke Spencer up.

“What’s wrong?” He instantly asked as he looked at me with a worried expression.

“Just the pain,” I replied.

I saw guilt wash over his face as he looked down. His hand left mine. It felt cold and lonely without his touch.

“It’s my fault you’re like this.”

“Hey,” I reached up to hold his face with my hand closest to him, “None of this is your fault. Don’t you dare feel guilty about any of this. You did everything you could.”

Spencer reached up and grabbed my hand. He brought it back to the bed and held it in both of his hands.

“I’m so sorry.”

I gave his hand a light squeeze. “I’ll let the others know you’re awake.”

I grasped his hand tighter to stop him. “In a little bit. I just want to be with you right now.”

Spencer sat back down as he nodded.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Anything,” he said as he looked up and gave me his full attention.

I took a deep breath before I parted my lips to speak. “Did you mean everything you said back there?”

His brows furrowed together. “I meant every word. I would never lie to you.”

My heart fluttered at his words. It made me so happy to hear him say that despite all the pain I was currently in. In a way, having him beside me and talking with him made the pain easier.

“I, um, was wondering if maybe we could try a real date once you’re better and everything,” Spencer softly spoke as he looked down at our hands. I smiled at how cute he was being.

“I’d love that.”

[stayextrafrosty]

All That I Want Is to Finally Be Honest

Summary: 3x09 coda. Michael creates a truth serum in an attempt to help Liz get information out of Jones. He has no one to test it on so he injects himself. Well, he doesn’t expect Alex to come visit. And while they’ve been talking about things more, there’s still stuff Michael needs to say.

A/N: When I say this is porn with feelings… I mean that in the most intense way. The emotions come out full force here. Title taken from the song "Back To U" by SLANDER. This was supposed to be done before 3x10 but alas.

Read on AO3 // Masterlist

-

“I told you, Ortecho. The serum is done but I need to test it. Are you a willing subject?” Michael said as he swirled the liquid in the beaker.

“I told you I’m busy making more of the alien suppressant. Call Isobel. She’s been itching for things to do.” Michael snorted and hung up the phone. He knew she was right. Isobel had been poking her nose into everything Michael and Liz had been working on. She offered to help but there wasn’t a whole lot she could do under the circumstances. But maybe it would be a good idea to put her under oath for a little bit.

He reached for the phone in his pocket, groaning when he saw the ‘no service’ message. This bunker was so hit or miss with it these days. He wished he could send actual thoughts to Isobel as opposed to just feelings over long distances.

Carefully setting the beaker in a holder, he stepped away from the table, wiping the sweat from his palms on his jeans. He climbed up the ladder, pushing the hatch open with his mind. The sun nearly blinded him as cool air whipped around him. He sat himself on the edge of the hole, waiting for his phone to connect again.

As soon as it did, it buzzed a few times as text messages came in. Three separate messages from Isobel spit balling theories and asking if he needed anything from her. He had tried to tell her to get some rest but she was determined to be the one to take Jones down. She had planned a date with some new girl in town but every time Michael asked about it she said there were other things to focus on.

Date.

He and Alex had made plans but of course they got interrupted. By a machine of all things. A machine that made him hallucinate Michael’s mom. Practically throwing every single doubt about them in his mind right back in his face. Alex didn’t want to tell him the full extent of the things she had said. The things he was thinking. Michael understood for the most part. He wasn’t keeping things from him to be cruel. Just the opposite. Alex was trying to protect him. Alex was always protecting him.

Michael sent a quick message back to Isobel about the serum and how he needed help testing it. The phone buzzed again in his hand and he couldn’t help the smile that broke out on his face. He was only thankful Sanders wasn’t around to tease him about it. Alex’s name was at the top of the new message. He tapped the notification to re-open their conversation. He wanted to pretend he didn’t spend the time rereading their conversations since Michael had kissed him. Until then, Michael had thought Alex wasn’t the type to use emojis, but they were being sprinkled throughout more messages.

‘Hope your day is going well’ followed by a blushing smiley face. Michael laughed and shook his head.

‘It would be better if I could see you’ he sent back. He started to climb back down the ladder but his phone buzzed again. He opened the message, being greeted by Alex’s small smile and half lidded eyes as he rested his head on his arm on his desk. He wasn’t fully recovered and Michael could tell. But even with the dark circles, he was still the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

Michael had tried to get him to take a few days off but Alex was insistent. He swore that he would only work on the machine in the way they discussed from now on. And Michael was pretty sure Eduardo was now watching him.

The soft smile still made his heart flutter. This is real. They could casually send pictures of themselves and it wasn’t weird. Michael could see Alex whenever he wanted. And god he loved him. He loved him so much he could jump out of his skin every time he heard his name. There was a twitch in his fingers that told him only to touch Alex. Hold him close and never let go.

“You’re gunna fall if you keep standin’ on the ladder like that!” Michael jumped at Sanders voice. The old man had his eye brow raised and arms crossed as he stood outside of the office trailer.

“Just trying to get some fresh air,” Michael called back as a gust of cold wind whipped through the yard. Sanders shook his head and moved back into the trailer. Michael climbed down the ladder but left the cover off, hoping that would let his phone continue to get service.

He began filling syringes with the serum. His phone buzzed on the table and he briefly glanced at it to see Isobel’s response. She had found something to occupy her time apparently; investigating a lead about where the new alien had disappeared to.

Michael sighed and looked at the needles. He supposed he could just test it on himself. But if it worked properly (which it should) would Sanders really want to listen to all of the stories he had kept secret all this time?

“Guess I don’t have a choice,” he mumbled to himself. Picking up one of the syringes, he watched the green liquid shift. He slipped his flannel off his shoulders, tossing it onto the table. The black t-shirt he wore underneath didn’t do much to keep the cold from the open hatch from sinking in. He pushed a small amount of the serum out of the needle before slipping it into his arm.

“Mad scientists always test on themselves, right?” he asked nobody as he set the empty tube back on the table.

He felt nothing as he walked around the bunker, tapping a pen on the notebook in his hand. Had it really been a bust? Maybe he needed to use more of the powder. He used significantly less than Liz did in her alien killing poison but maybe he needed just a bit more to influence the prefrontal cortex.

He mumbled a curse as he made a note. He didn’t have time to remake this crap a million times. Jones was out there and who knew—

A wave of dizziness washed over him, sending him to his knees. He tried to pull himself up by grabbing the table but the room spun. He missed every attempt to grab the metal edge. Black creeped in at the edge of his vision. He let himself collapse to the floor and he rolled onto his back. Michael fought to keep his eyes open for as long as possible but the promise of sleep was too tempting.

-

“—rin! Guerin! Come on wake up. Don’t you dare leave me now… Michael!”

Alex’s voice was distant, like he was underwater. There was a feint pressure floating across his upper body, poking and prodding. His head radiated pain but it was slowly fading. He began to feel like he was floating as opposed to the hard surface he had been laying on. But at least feeling was starting to return to his body.

“Michael, please. I’m begging you to open your eyes. Twitch your fingers. Scrunch your nose. Anything.” Alex was louder now, as though coming from right above him. He finally oriented himself enough to recognize that his head was elevated. A trembling hand held his own, obviously trying to stop shaking by squeezing harder. Something wet dripped onto his cheek.

“Damnit, Michael!” Alex choked out a sob. Michael summoned all the energy he could and squeezed his hand. He heard Alex gasp above him and then he was squeezing back. Another hand brushed hair off his forehead and traced down the side of his face. Michael would have shuddered at the feeling of his hands but he still didn’t have much movement in his body.

Instead he swallowed and tried to make some kid of sound. Any word that would sooth Alex. He just ended up with a clipped groan. Still Alex seemed to release a sigh of relief.

“Michael. Can you hear me? Are you ok?” Michael just made another strangled sound and gave a barely there squeeze to his hand. He focused his efforts to opening his eyes instead. He wanted to see Alex.

The dim lights above him still felt too bright and everything was blurry. He could vaguely make out the form of Alex’s head bent over him. He blinked a few times, trying to clear the fog in front of his eyes. As his focus sharpened, he met Alex’s wide eyes. Tear tracks stained his cheeks, and a small smile found its way to his lips.

“I’m ok,” Michael managed to croak out. Then Alex was bending down and pressing a gentle kiss to his mouth. Michael would have responded but he was pulling away too soon.

“Wait… do it again,” Michael mumbled. Alex shook his head.

“Let’s at least get you sitting up.” He groaned as Alex lifted his shoulders and helped him turn so he could lean against the counter. Michael noticed his position on his knees. How long had he been sitting like that with his head in his lap? It was probably uncomfortable at best, painful at worst. He moved sluggishly to grab Alex’s arm and pull him off his knees to a sitting position next to him.

“You don’t have to worry about me so much. But I love that you do.” Michael wanted to correct himself. Take back the second part. It was still too soon.

“What happened? Did someone come hurt you?” The new anger in his voice was barely contained. Michael blew extra air out of his nose in a laugh and shook his head.

“No. I stuck myself with a serum I’ve been working on for Liz. I needed a guinea pig and no other alien was around. I think I used too much of the yellow powder and knocked myself out. No big deal.” He reached over to rest a hand on Alex’s thigh and squeezed gently. “There’s no need to be angry. But the fact that you are makes me love you more.” Stop talking! He was screaming at himself.

Alex sucked in a breath and turned his face away, but Michael caught the blush that overtook his cheeks. He let himself slide to the side, resting his own head on Alex’s shoulder. They sat in silence for a moment and the fog in his head continued to clear.

“What kind of serum was it?” Alex asked quietly.

“Supposed to be a truth serum. The idea was that once we over power Jones, we stick him with it and he tells us all the secrets of the universe. How to swap Max and Jones back into their proper bodies. History of our home planet and the War. Stuff about us.” He knew that this was more information than he was asking for but he couldn’t stop talking. “Did you know I’m immune to fire? That was a hell of a discovery. Spent the better part of a day setting my hand on fire to see if it did anything. Never did. There really was an irony in you telling me that you’d burn the world down for me.”

“Michael…”

“Sure you’d burn the world but did you ever consider I would walk through fire for you? That maybe the world is already burning but it doesn’t matter because I can withstand it all. Just for you.”

Suddenly a hand was covering his mouth and Alex was staring at him so intently Michael thought he might be reading his mind. Tears pricked at the edges of his eyes and his breathing was shaky, as though Michael had overwhelmed him.

“I.. think the serum works,” Alex said quietly. Michael wrapped his fingers around his wrist gently, pulling his hand away from his mouth, but not too far.

“I love you, Alex.” He pulled his hand back to his lips, pressing them to his palm. “And I should have said that to you so much earlier.”

Michael could see the way Alex fought against the smile. He breathed out a half laugh and looked anywhere except him.

“Tell me that when you haven’t drugged yourself,” Alex teased gently.

“Alex, I can’t lie.”

“I know. But I want you to tell me when you’re ready.”

Michael kissed his palm again, then moved his hand slowly down his cheek and placed it on the back of his neck. Alex slipped his fingers into his curls, nails scratching lightly at his head.

“I want to kiss you,” Michael said softly, cupping Alex’s jaw and running his thumbs over his cheeks. He let one go just far enough to press against his bottom lip, pulling it down. Alex’s lips parted as his hand threaded through Michael’s hair tightened.

“You don’t have to ask, you know,” he responded, breathless.

Michael couldn’t help the shudder that ran down his spine. He leaned forward, resting his head against Alex, just breathing in the smell of him. He brushed their lips together and Alex gasped. The small sound sent a thrill through Michael. His heart fluttered and his stomach twisted with nerves.

“I want you,” Michael mumbled.

“You’ve got me. I’m not going anywhere.”

His body trembled as the words warmed every part of his body. Need settled between his legs as he rolled himself to straddle Alex’s thighs. His free hand landed on Michael’s hip as the hand in his hair tugged him closer, brushing their lips against each other again.

Michael hadn’t been this nervous about intimacy in years. This was Alex after all. They communicate with bodies and moans. It’s the way they understand each other. They always fit together so well. Filling in the cracks of each other and making something more beautiful than when they were apart.

Alex was the one who closed the distance between them, capturing Michael’s lips, stoking the fire under his skin. He moaned softly, pressing his hips against Alex.

They had kept their kisses chaste since the night at the Pony, neither wanting to rush into this before they knew where they were going. But Michael had been craving Alex for almost three years. To have him wrapped in his arms as sweat eased the movement of their bodies. He didn’t want to wait anymore. He couldn’t.

Alex tugged on his hair with one hand and his t-shirt with the other. Michael’s hands were moving down to the unbuttoned flannel. He shoved it off his shoulders to expose the white shirt underneath. Alex only released him to chuck the shirt somewhere to the side before he was grabbing at the hem of his shirt and pushing it up.

Michael separated for a moment as he gripped Alex’s shoulders, running his fingers over the collar of his shirt. He felt the cool press of metal and remembered the dog tags Alex had taken to wearing.

His mind wandered to the way they would move against Alex’s chest. The way they would intensify the feeling of Michael’s warm fingers as he traced the chain on his skin. He groaned as he also realized that it was something he couldhave.

Michael kissed Alex again, grinding down against him. He wanted to make sure he knew just how badly he wanted him. Alex shoved his hands under his shirt, fingers splayed over his stomach and then moving to his sides and eventually his back. Alex scratched him lightly as he pulled him closer, encouraging the movement of his hips more.

He shuddered and cursed against his lips. He felt like a teenager again. Like he might come undone without even getting their pants off.

“Wait,” Michael mumbled, breathless. Alex pulled away immediately, looking almost scared that he had done something wrong. Michael smiled warmly at him before crushing their lips together one last time. He only held it for a couple seconds before he was pushing himself off the floor. He grabbed Alex’s hands on the way up, using his telekinesis to help lift him to his feet also. Alex looked around, shocked in a way. Michael was a bit startled too. The pollen was supposed to suppress their powers. Maybe the amount he used was too small to have a real effect. Instead of pointing this out, Michael just chuckled and pushed Alex back against the edge of the counter, head dipping to place wet kisses over his neck.

“Come to my trailer,” he said against his throat. “If I’m going to show you just how much I love you, I’ll at least do it in a proper bed.” Alex’s head fell back as Michael’s mouth moved. But he nodded quickly.

Michael forced himself away from Alex, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the ladder. He let Alex climb out first, following closely behind. He shut the cover to the bunker with hardly a glance behind him. He flung the trailer door open next and all but shoved Alex inside, though still cautious of his leg.

Not that Alex was any more patient than he was. Alex grabbed him by his shirt, pulling their bodies flush against each other as Michael locked the door with his mind. Michael’s arms wrapped around his waist as their lips came together again. Alex whimpered as his tongue teased his lip. Michael tugged it between his teeth, groaning at the way it made Alex melt against him.

Alex’s hands dragged down his chest to the hem of his shirt again, yanking it up. They only separated for a moment as Michael finished removing the garment. Michael shoved him backwards onto his bed. He smiled down at him and watched hungrily as he rushed to undo the button on his jeans. All of this the same path they had taken three years ago. But it was different now. Neither was going to run away.

Michael crawled onto the bed, settling between Alex’s thighs as he pushed his shirt up and over his head before capturing his mouth again. They sighed against each other’s lips as their skin moved together effortlessly. The cool metal of the dog tags Alex was wearing shocked Michael, but that only made him want to press closer.

Fingers pulled at his hair and then scratched down his back until they reached the top of his jeans. Michael’s mouth fell open in a silent moan as Alex traced the hem around to the belt buckle. He fumbled with the strap for a moment before he yanked it free and immediately popped the button on his jeans.

Michael shifted back to his knees to admire the beautiful man below him. His face was red, lips swollen and wet as he tugged his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyes were half lidded as he ran his fingers over Michael’s abs and tried to pull him back down by the hem of his jeans. As much as he wanted to go with whatever Alex wanted, he wanted to take it slow. The temptation to just throw all their clothing off and get Alex moaning taunted him. But they could do that any time. No. Michael was determined to show him exactly what he thought of him.

He took Alex’s hands in his, threading their fingers together and pressing them down next to his head. Leaning down again, he kissed Alex slowly, only just barely running his tongue over the seem of his lips. A small whine bubbled up from Alex’s throat as his fingers squeezed Michael’s. Michael rubbed his hips against Alex and they both gasped at the friction.

“I need you,” Alex panted out. Michael hushed him gently as he trailed his lips over his jaw to his neck. Alex’s body arched against him as he sucked at his pulse point. Once he was satisfied with the mark, he moved down past his collarbone and hovered over his heart, breathing over the skin before pressing his mouth against him softly.

He slipped his hands out of Alex’s, letting his fingers just ghost over his arms. Michael continued his movement down his body, leaving small, wet kisses in his wake. His hands followed the same path through the hair on his chest as his mouth worked over his stomach to the trail of hair leading down from his belly button.

“I can never come up with the words to tell you how perfect you are,” Michael breathed against his skin. He pressed his forehead against the bottom of Alex’s ribs as he dragged his fingers down to the hem of his jeans. He felt Alex’s hands run through his hair, scratching and tugging. Michael slipped his fingers into the waistband and began pulling the fabric down.

“Michael, wait,” Alex said. He froze and looked up at him, waiting for further instructions. “Let me take off the prosthesis first.” He pushed himself up to his elbows before Michael stopped him.

“If you’ll let me, I can take it off for you.” Alex’s shoulders sagged as a small smile found it’s way to his face. He nodded slowly and took Michael’s hand, pulling it to his mouth to press a couple chaste kisses to his fingers.

Michael slipped to his knees on the floor. He rolled Alex’s pant leg up, exposing the metal and plastic. He worked quickly with Alex watching him, undoing straps and tugging gently. He set the leg to the side carefully, leaning it against the wall.

He looked back up at Alex and hoped that he didn’t blush from the soft look he was getting from him. He rolled the sock off his stump and set it to the side with the prosthesis. He watched Alex through his eye lashes as he pressed kisses to his knee.

Alex gasped softly and pushed himself up completely so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He took Michael’s face in his hands tenderly, brushing his thumbs over his cheekbones. Michael ran his hands up his legs to his waist and over his stomach. His fingers brushed against the metal of the dog tags when he got to his chest.

He dragged one hand back down to Alex’s hip. The other he let catch on the metal chain. He met Alex’s gaze as their heavy breathing mingled between them. Then Michael tugged on the chain, firmly pulling Alex down toward him.

He pushed himself up at the same time, mouths coming together with a chorus of moans and gasps. Their tongues tasted each other as Michael pushed himself up and Alex back on the bed. Alex’s hands were tangled in his hair, pulling him as close as their bodies would allow.

Michael braced himself with one hand while the other ran down Alex’s body to the waist of his pants again. He grabbed and tugged both the jeans and underwear over his hips. Alex, lifted himself so he could bring them down to his thighs.

He pulled away from Alex to finish removing his clothes, tossing them somewhere to the side. Michael licked his lips as he took in every beautiful inch of him. The firm muscles barely hidden beneath the soft skin. He touched his thighs, the hair tickling his hands. He moved slowly up his thighs and to his hips where his hardness rested between his legs.

Michael avoided touching his cock, instead focusing on massaging everything else around it. He dug his fingers into the soft spot on his hips. Alex rolled toward his touch, sighing blissfully. And he couldn’t help himself, leaning down to press featherlight kisses to the v just below his abs. Alex made a small whimpering sound as he pulled at his own hair.

“So amazing…” Michael mumbled as he continued his line of kisses up over his abs. “Beautiful and strong…” Alex gasped out his name when his hands scratched up his sides and to his arms to hold them above his head. “You were made for me, Alex. I was made to touch you, to kiss you, to live for you, to love you.”

Michael kissed his way back up to his chest, inhaling his scent and hoping that it would be left on his own skin for days. He pressed his tongue over Alex’s nipple briefly before kissing across his chest to the other one. Alex arched his back, pressing his member against Michael’s abs and rubbing. He chuckled.

“Touching you was always the most rewarding part,” he said sweetly before running the tip of his tongue up over his chest and neck and back to his lips. He left only a few centimeters between them as he spoke, “You’re so responsive. I can’t help but want to take you apart.”

“Kiss me, Michael. Now,” Alex ordered. Michael would never deny him anything. Not unless that was the plan. It was about both of them this time. He could play with him in the future. Michael slid his mouth over Alex’s, not being able to stop the smile.

They had a future. And this was only the first of all the ways he would be allowed to love him.

Michael released Alex’s arms and ran his fingers back down his torso to his hips. He pressed the length of his body against him. Alex wrapped his arms around his neck, licking into his mouth and nipping at his lip. Michael moaned softly and rocked his hips against him.

He released Alex to push his own pants and underwear to his knees before kicking them off. He let most of his weight collapse on top of Alex, rolling his hips to rub them against each other. They moaned together as a shudder ran down Michael’s spine.

Alex untangled one of his arms to reach between them. He wrapped his hand around both of them, stroking slowly. Michel groaned into his mouth as his arms started to shake from the effort of holding himself up. He tore himself away from Alex, knowing that if he let this continue, he would finish before even getting inside him. He sat back on his knees, tracing a pattern through the hair on his chest and down to his cock.

He pushed Alex’s hand away from them gently. His panting only increased as Michael took his legs and bent them back slightly. Michael slid down his body so that his mouth hovered over Alex’s now twitching member. Every breath that brushed over him made it jump in anticipation.

He felt Alex’s hand in his hair and looked up at him through his eyelashes. His mouth hung open as his eyes begged for any sort of stimulation. A small bead of precum sat at the tip, threatening to roll down the side.

“You’re so perfect,” Michael said just before taking Alex into his mouth for the first time in years. The salty taste of him was better than he remembered as he slipped most of the way down his shaft. Alex jerked and gasped, tugging on his hair to pull him closer. Michael groaned around him, feeling the way Alex’s fingers tightened again.

Michael rubbed the back of his thighs as he bobbed his head up and down, pushing them open so he could have better access. He let his tongue tease around the head as he slipped further with every down stroke.

“Fuck, Michael,” Alex pleaded. He looked up at him to meet his eyes. He felt the shudder run through Alex’s body as he gasped and twisted his other hand into the sheets on the bed. Then Michael sank down again, taking him to the back of his throat and burying his nose in the short hair at the base.

Alex’s hips jerked up and Michael suppressed his gag reflex by gripping his thighs harder. Alex tugged his already swollen bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes fluttered closed and head fell back. Michael wanted to imprint the image of him blissed out into his brain.

He lifted his head until just the tip with in his mouth before sinking back down in one movement. Alex cried out in pleasure as his fingers pulled on Michael’s hair again. He continued the pattern a few more times before pulling off completely. Alex whined in protest. Michael chuckled and smirked up at him. Then he trailed the tip of his tongue down his length and over his balls, sucking one into his mouth briefly before moving to his ass.

Alex’s back arched again as he tried to press closer to Michael’s tongue. He mumbled something incomprehensible when he started teasing his rim. Michael shifted his hands down to his ass, spreading him open.

“Not… enough…” Alex panted out. Michael nipped at the skin of his ass lightly.

“Just be patient, darlin’,” he said sweetly before pressing a kiss to his skin. Then he pressed his tongue flat against his hole while his thumb pushed just past the rim. Alex’s hips rocked more as small moans slipped from his lips.

Michael worked his thumb in slowly, letting the tip of his tongue slip in alongside it. He pressed against Alex’s walls, urging him open. Alex groaned from above him and grabbed handfuls of his hair, yanking him back up his body to crush their mouths together. Michael didn’t exactly fight hard against it.

He kept his fingers at his hole, slipping his middle finger in and out of him teasingly. Alex bit at his lips and shoved his tongue into his mouth. It stole Michael’s breath away, feeling the desperation he poured into the kiss. He only hoped Alex could feel the same from him. He didn’t get the chance to reciprocate for long because Alex pulled away, instead pressing their foreheads together.

“Tell me you have lube,” he said, voice shaking and breathy.

“Of course.” Michael reached out with his mind to the lowest drawer under the sink. He floated the bottle toward them and dropped it on the bed. “You saying you didn’t like my attentions?” he teased with a smile.

“I liked it too much,” Alex said, brushing their lips together and rocking his hips against Michael’s fingers. “I need to feel you inside me again. To be as close to you as possible. To lose track of where I end and you begin.”

He couldn’t stop the smile that broke out on his face. Michael would do anything for Alex. Bend to his every whim and request.

So he removed his finger from Alex’s hole and instead wrapped his arm around his waist and the other around his back. He pulled him up so he was sitting on his thighs as Michael kneeled on the bed. Alex wrapped his arms around his shoulders, holding him close.

Michael kissed him again, soft and slow. He gripped Alex’s skin, digging his fingers into the muscle. Alex sighed and held him tighter in return. When he was sure he was balanced on his thighs, he reached for the bottle and flicked the cap open. Realizing he was going to need to hands, he pulled his lips away from Alex. There was a small noise of protest that Michael silenced with a quick peck.

“Hold on to me,” he breathed over his lips.

“I wouldn’t dream of letting go.”

He released Alex slowly as their lips slipped over each other again. Michael squeezed a small amount of lube on his fingers. He rubbed it around for a moment before finding Alex’s entrance again. Alex gasped as his fingers prodded the opening.

There was little resistance to the first finger from Michael’s earlier attention. The lube made the second finger slip in just as easily. Alex sighed his name as his hips started rocking slowly. The friction against Michael’s own cock was wholly welcome, making him moan.

Michael twisted and pressed his fingers inside him, looking for the sweet spot he knew would earn him more noises. Alex’s mouth fell open when he finally found it and he could only grin as he swallowed the moan that tumbled from his lips. He massaged his prostate. A few soft strokes followed by a firm press.

Alex’s cock twitched and throbbed against his with every movement. As much as Michael wanted to continue like this until Alex made a mess of them both, he didn’t want to wait anymore. He pulled his fingers out slowly, giving one more teasing press to the spot.

Michael grabbed the lube bottle again, pouring more onto his fingers. He snapped the lid closed and tossed it to the side, hardly registering the sound of it falling to the floor. He carefully shifted Alex back so he could cover his cock in the lube.

Once fully coated, he pulled back to rest his forehead against Alex’s. They both panted as they met each other’s eyes. Michael wrapped an arm around his waist.

“You want this?” he asked a final time. Alex just beamed at him before pulling him back in for a searing kiss.

“Yes. I need you, Michael.”

Michael could only groan in response, claiming his lips again. He lowered Alex back to the bed and he almost immediately wrapped his legs around his waist. With his free hand, Michael guided his cock to Alex’s hole. He pressed himself against the rim, slowly rolling his hips until the tip entered him.

Michael saw stars behind his eyes as he tried to keep his movements slow. The temptation to bury himself in the warmth of Alex was overwhelming. Their moans overlapped as he pushed farther in. He nearly fell forward, needing to brace himself using the arm that had been hold Alex.

“I love you, Michael,” Alex suddenly rushed out. Michael’s eyes opened to meet Alex’s. He had the most beautiful smile he had ever seen on his face. His eyes were half lidded but still completely focused on Michael. “I love you,” he repeated.

His heart soared higher than ever. He never thought he would know this kind of joy. But the man wrapped in his arms was offering it so openly and completely. No extra conditions. Just all the love he could possibly give.

A tear spilled down Michael’s face as he pushed himself completely into Alex. Their mouths fell open and Alex refused to look away from him. He pulled out slightly and pushed in again, this time hearing the moans fall from his own lips.

“God, Alex…” he sighed, letting his head fall to his shoulder as he continued the steady thrusting of his hips.

Michael pressed his lips to his shoulder before sucking on the spot, massaging a mark into his skin. Alex moaned softly as his hips came up to meet Michael’s next thrust. He scratched his nails up and down Michael’s back, distracting him from his rhythm. His hips jerked forward roughly once, making them both gasp at the feeling.

He picked up his rhythm again, moving faster, starting to chase the high that comes with orgasm. Alex clenched around him, moving his own hips in time with Michael. He stopped holding back his moans, instead letting them vibrate over Alex’s skin.

He could feel Alex’s heartbeat from where their chests were pressed together. It pounded just as hard as his own. Possibly threatening to burst from how full of love it was. Alex’s moans were music to his ears. Small plea’s begging for more finally registered in his brain. And he would never deny Alex.

“I’m so close, Michael,” he whined next to his ear. Michael was on the edge too. So he pulled his head from Alex’s shoulder and kissed him again as he sped up his hips again, trying to match the racing of his heartbeat.

He had lost track of his body. He could only feel Alex wrapped around him, fitting perfectly against his skin. Michael ground his hips against Alex’s ass, breaking his even pattern in an effort to feel more of him.

After that he didn’t know what came over him. His hand was pressing to Alex’s chest as his hips only got rougher and more erratic. He could feel the heat rippling out from his hand. Alex cried out and arched against him, one of his own hands moving to cover Michael’s.

“Alex, Alex, Alex,” he panted out.

“Michael!” He felt the spasm of his body against his own, then the warmth of the liquid running between them.

His own orgasm rushed up to him, no time to even consider pulling out. Not that he even wanted to. His hips thrust forward roughly, burying him inside of Alex as his cock emptied. A long moan accompanied each of his last thrusts until he was shaking from the overstimulation.

Michael collapsed against Alex, laying his head against his chest. Alex’s free hand pet his hair gently as their breathing started to even out. Michael dozed and Alex’s occasional snores let him know he wasn’t the only one. It couldn’t have been that long because the mess between them hadn’t dried.

He pulled his eyes open to see his hand placed firmly over Alex’s heart and his hand still covering Michael’s. He lifted his hand slowly and the bright pink, iridescent handprint seemed to ripple with Alex’s breathing.

“You could have warned me how intense it would be,” Alex said quietly, a light and content tone to his voice. Michael pushed himself up slightly to see his face. The sweet smile that always made his heart flutter was back and internally he sighed in relief.

“Had I known it was going to be I would have,” he said, lifting a finger brush over his cheek. “I’m sorry for the handprint. I didn’t—” Alex pulled him in and kissed him, stopping his apology.

“I’m so happy, Michael. About everything. I love you so much,” he said when he pulled away. Michael smiled at him and pressed another kiss to his lips, lingering just slightly when he pulled away.

“I love you, Alex.” Alex held his face gently with a fondness glittering in his eyes.

“I told you to wait until the serum had worn off,” he joked. The fog in his mind had completely vanished though he couldn’t quite remember when. He was still pouring his heart out to Alex but it was because he wanted to. He never wanted to hide anything from him. He never wanted to lie to him.

“It wore off already. I don’t feel the need to say everything I’m thinking,” he said, inching closer to Alex’s lips again. “But I still want to tell you everything. Because right now, all I can think about is you.”