#they start posting shit and they have my full undivided attention immediately

[crmsndragonwngss]

I swear I had every intention of writing something about Oceans Ate Alaska, but then Erra started teasing Cure and it totally slipped my mind 😅

[hermankopusortizorsumshite]

Darlin'

Warnings: the Punisher themes, blood, gore, violence, kidnapping, Agent Madani (cause she's a trigger warning for me XD), sweet Frank

Word Count: 9095. This is a long one. Buckle up! MINORS DNI!

Her father looked at her with his heart in his eyes, her face bruised and marred.

“Darling, I’m so sorry.” He whispers, patting her hand. She smiles at him.

“It’s okay.” She croaks, cracking her cuts on her face when she smiles bigger. He pats her lips with a paper towel, applying a couple drops off water to her mouth. “Chapstick in my purse, dad.” She coos, giving him a chuckle.

“Of course, baby.” He smiled, kissing her forehead and digging into her purse for that little tube of chapstick. She takes it, putting some on and sighing in relief. “I hired a bodyguard. Don’t fight me this time please. A different bodyguard; one more your style. Maybe you won’t run away from this one.” He chides, giving her a half-unimpressed look.

“Pop, it’s not my fault. He was old and boring.” She whines.

“Well, you can rest assured this one is not old or boring.” He chuckles, waving someone in. This beast of man, with broad shoulders, a strong jaw, and a dark look walks in. Her eyes drink him in. His all black apparel, tee shirt, cargo pants, military boots.

“Wow.” She whispers, “definitely not old.”

“I thought you might enjoy his company more. Since he doesn’t talk and he can’t be persuaded to take you out onto the town at three in the morning for waffles.” Frank chuckles. “Can you be persuaded to take her to get waffles at three in the morning?” He asks, jabbing a finger at the man.

“No, sir. I just think it’s funny that a bodyguard could be, sir.”

“Great. Military.” She heaves a sigh and rolls her lips together.

“This is my daughter, Kat. She’s my baby. I need you to promise you’d give your life to keep her safe.” Her father explains, her eyes watching the gold watch on his tan wrist.

“Sir, can I speak to you in the hallway?” He asks, looking at the door.

“Sir, you know who I am right?” He asks, looking to the man with a partially confused look.

“I’m Frank Castle. I killed so many people the US government lost count and gave me a new identity. But please justs call me Frank.” He explains, and her father’s eyes widen for a moment.

“You are Frank Castle. Wow.” He whispers.

“Yeah.” He nods.

“Alright, well. My daughter, Kat, she’s my world. Do you understand that?” He asks, looking to Frank and seeing him nod.

“Yeah, I get that.” He swallows hard.

“Good, now. My daughter is my whole existence. I love her with everything I have. She’s in the hospital because some men were looking for me and she wouldn’t give me up. If you’re ever in that situation, and she’s with you, tell her to give it up. Okay? My life is not valuable if I lose her. Understood? So if she’s ever kidnapped with you, please, give them whatever information they ask you for, okay? And when she gets released today, I’m putting the two of you in a safe house so she can heal.” He offers giving her a smile through the window, waving. Something about the sweet woman laying in that hospital made Frank almost feel weak. His stomach seemed to turn.

“Okay, and who’s supposed to be posted anywhere else near it? I’ll kill on sight if I don’t know them.” He states as calmly as his own name. Her father, Gianno, grins and claps Frank on the shoulder.

“Your huge. You’re a killer. And it’s sweet.” He chuckles, leaving Frank outside for a moment as he goes to talk to his daughter.

“Honey, I need to tell you something, okay? When you’re released in a few minutes, I’m going to have you quietly placed in a safe house away from me. Okay? Until you’re healed. Please don’t be mad.”

“Mad? Is Hercules going?” She giggles, pointing to the large man with his back to the door. Her father just nods and laughs. “Then I am not mad. I’ll be holed up in a one bedroom apartment with that sweet, huge man and I cannot wait.” She explains.

“Wow, you know you can’t sleep with him, right?”

“And if I did. I’d never tell you. Who’s packing my stuff?” She asks, looking at him quizzically.

“Lyla is, currently. I figured if any girl knew what to pack it’d be her.” He laughs. The door opens, Frank nodding to her father.

“Hello! I’m Doctor Haas. I’m here with the paperwork for you, dear.” The woman nods with a gleaming smile. Handing over a clipboard, Kat signs the paperwork in record time and happily changes out of the gown. “We’ll grab a wheelchair from the hall and--”

“No! No, please. No wheelchair. Between pop and Hercules I’ll be fine. Honestly. I wanna walk out on my own.” She whines, standing on quaking legs.

“Alright! No problem.” She smiles, giving her a nod and sending her on her way.

“Honeybun, maybe you should think about using the--”

“No! Pop, I’m not using it.” She gingerly steps into the hallway. Frank looks down at her for a moment, taking in the situation. Before he can say a word, she looks up with shimmering grey-blue eyes and a pleading smile. “I can’t use a wheelchair. I have to walk out of here.” She whispers, gripping his hand.

“Okay.” He whispers back. With a look at her, he tucks her under his arm, holding her up at her waist to keep her on her feet. Even when her legs start to give way at the exit door, Frank holds fast and gets her quickly to the car.

“You can do it.” He whispers as the steps get closer and closer, the car only a yard away. “Come on. If anyone can do it, you can. You didn’t take a wheelchair because you know you’re strong.” He coos, getting her to push through the last ten steps before collapsing into the SUV.

“Thank you.” She whispers, hugging his neck as he lifts her onto the seat. He climbs in next to her, buckling her in.

“Safe house.” Her father states as he gets into the passenger seat with a little smirk on his face.

“Tell me, Hercules. Where are you from?” She asks, gripping his bicep and gleaming up at him.

“Queens.” He smiles, his eyes scanning around them while he talks to her.

“You married?” She asks, looking at the necklace that hangs around his neck.

“I was.” He states, looking out the windows for suspicious cars.

“Ah sorry. Divorced?”

“Killed. My wife and two kids.” He states, looking to her with pain in his eyes.

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.” She coos, patting his shoulder. “God I’m tired.” She murmurs, tipping over onto his shoulder and falling asleep. He gently leans her to the other door onto the padded seat back and sits back up, eyes scanning again.

“Mister Luccianni, that silver grand am to your right, has been following us for the past two miles.” He states, grabbing for his weapon. “Gimme the go, I’ll smoke em.” He offers, narrowing his sights and putting his finger on the window button.

“Stand down. They’re your test. You passed. Good eye. Is she asleep?” Her father asks as they pull into a parking garage.

“Yeah.” He nods, the car coming to a slow stop in a parking spot.

“The silver car has her things in it. It’s the most common car in the state of New York it seems. So, Lyla, her best friend is in the car. She’s sex-crazed and will probably hit on you. She’s got Kat’s things and she can help put them in the apartment. Now. Next, I need you to carry her in, as unsuspecting as possible. It’s midday and people are out and about. Try not to give yourselves away. Lyla is dressed in a mover’s uniform. Short brunette, pencil straight hair. There will be neighbors out. You two are newly married until you get in that door.” Her father debriefs him with a smile and gives him a nod.

“Got it, sir. Is she to stay in the apartment all the time? Will she sneak out? What do the men look like who did this to her?”

“Don’t keep her cooped up the whole time, she’ll go crazy. Call a driver first. The driver confirms with you. You bring her out as your new wife. You get into the car. She will sneak out. Lyla will probably convince her to sneak out so they can go wine tasting or something. Lyla’s a good girl, but she’s crazy. The men who did this? They look dead.” He answers all the questions and he nods. Frank found her interesting. “She’s been engaged, but never married. He was killed, much like your family.” He coos, looking at his daughter with a loving, sad smile. “Alright, it’s time to go in.” He smiles, letting Frank get out first, scooping her out of the seat and starting towards the door.

“What-what’s happening?” She asks. Half awake, half asleep, the jostling is all to familiar and she kicks out, diving to the ground and waking up immediately. Frank stares down at her with wide eyes and a little smirk.

“You good now?” He gruffs, sticking out a hand. She takes it, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

“Yeah, I’m so sorry.” She whispers as he tucks her under his arm.

“It’s okay, hunny. Those men can’t hurt you again.” He states out loud, his big hand covering the side of her face and holding it against his chest. “We’re married when we leave this aparment.” He hushes as they walk, never missing a beat.

“Well, alright then.” She giggles loudly, letting him keep her against him. As her father lets them into the apartment, Frank almost has to peel her off of him. “Aw, c’mon hunny! I’m not done cuddling.” She whines, making grabby hands at him. “You’re so warm.” He just chuckles, heading into the room with her father and other guards to discuss what the next plan is. A knock at the door has Frank’s undivided attention. Peeking through the peephole, he sees the described woman who was bringing her things in. He waves her over, signaling to be quiet.

“Is this Lyla?” He asks, covering her mouth as she gasps. She nods violently, grabbing for the handle. Frank’s hand is faster, tugging hers away. “Go over there.” He hushes, pointing behind the couch. Huffing, she rolls her eyes and wobbles to the couch. Frank carefully opens the door and finds a petite woman with a cart full of suitcases. “Name.” He barks, hand resting on his pistol.

“Lyla. I’m here for welcome party.” She grins so widely Frank finds it odd, but when he peeks out, he sees a neighbor looking over at them.

“My wife must’ve invited you! C’mon in!” He cheers, waving her in and shutting the door. “The arsenal arrived.” He chuckles, waving Kat over.

“I’m so happy to finally see you!” She cheers, gripping her best friend in a warm, tight hug. When Kat groans at the slight throb in her ribs, Frank’s head flips back to them.

“You okay?” He asks.

“Yeah.” She assures, heading into the bedroom and Lyla follows, dragging the bags along with her. Frank laughs, heading back into the room with her father and guards again. She curls up onto the couch after waving goodbye to her best friend. Frank had tossed his jacket onto the couch with his duffelbag and when she saw his coat, the only blanket-like thing near her, she draws it to her and covers up with it.

“But we’ll head out so you two can get better acquainted. The fridge and cupboards have been stocked up for you. Drinks are in the island, as well as wine in the cabinet. If Lyla tries to kidnap her, just shmooze her with wine tasting.” He chuckles, kissing his daughter atop her buised head and stepping out.

As she wakes from her nap, she sees the most glorious sight. A glass-walled shower with frosted glass and her bodyguard’s naked body in said shower. He climbs out, wrapping the towel around his waist. Combing through his hair, he feels eyes on himself and looks out the open door to see she’s awake.

“Hey, hot bodyguard.” She gives an awkward wave, jaw still on the floor.

“Hey, Kat.” He waves, dropping the towel just outside of her eyesight, returning a moment later dressed in a gray tee shirt and jeans, hearing a audible groan.

“It’s Frank, by the way.” He chuckles, offering a hand.

“It might be wise to know my newly wedded husband’s name. In case the neighbors ask.” She laughs, patting the couch with an inviting smile.

“You should shower.” He ruffs, helping her to her feet. “Doctor said first night you shower, try not to lift your arms too much. So I’m the best you got.” He smiles, a little excited to see her naked, frosted glass or not.

“Great. So you’re name is Frank, you’ve known me twelve hours, and now you’re going to see me naked? This is a fucking treat.” She rolls her eyes, but Frank just laughs.

“You didn’t think you’d be the only one to get a show, did you?” He asks.

“Hey now! I happened to wake up at the right time. That’s not my fault.” She laughs, defending herself as she gives a grin.

“It is now, c’mon, doll.” He chuckles as she digs through the suitcase for underwear, a bra, and a shirt. She’d found shorts already.

“Did you just call me doll? Should I call pops and tell him you already have a crush on me?” He just rolls his eyes as she walks to the bathroom. Tugging off her sweatpants and underwear, she feels exposed, but she can’t get her shirt off. Snapping her fingers, she hooks the t-shirt’s collar onto the towel hook and tugs the shirt off, sobbing when her arm is raised so high. Frank comes through the door.

“You okay?” He asks, looking around her to find her shirt hanging on the hook.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” She nods, letting Frank’s eyes drink her in. “Actually, Frank? Can you unhook this? I can’t get it.” She whines, pushing on her bra with one hand.

“Sure.” Unhooking her bra, his knuckles brushing her smooth skin, his eyes travel down the gauze pads that pepper her back.

“Those have to come off too.” She whispers, meaning the gauze pads. He peels each one off gingerly to find a variously shaped cigarette burns on her back.

“What the hell?” He whispers, his finger running between the burns. She shivers at the intimate touch and he jerks his hand away. “Sorry, I-”

“It’s okay.” She whispers, putting Frank’s hand back on her shoulder and letting him trail down again.

“It looks like a constellation.” He whispers, pulling away his hand.

“Thank you.” She coos, letting the hot water start.

Frank washes her back and shoulders, gentle around her burns.

“Thank you.” He puts the loofa down and steps out of the bathroom giving her a little privacy and himself a little space. He didn’t know why he felt this way, but he wanted so badly to kiss every little mark, trailing down her back. Huffing to calm down his nerves, he heads to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Not finding any, he mixes up a couple mugs of hot chocolate.

“So, uh, no coffee. But, I found some hot chocolate.” He smiles. Offering a mug of steaming hot cocoa.

“No coffee?” She asks, looking at him like he’d just sworn at her.

“Right? No coffee.” She pulls out her phone and sets up a delivery for starbucks in the morning.

“I probably shouldn’t drink any, anyway. It’s late, ya know. I should sleep.” She groans as they finish off the hot chocolate.

“Yeah, you hit the bed. I’m on the couch.” He explains, pointing to the bedroom.

“No, no. I can’t sleep there while you--”

“It’s my job. Okay? So you get in there and go to bed.” He orders, letting her get up and walk to her room.

Almost an hour passes when he hears her voice softly muttering under her breath.

“Darlin’?” He asks, looking into the dim room to see her thrashing on the bed, a scream filling the room. He bolts to her bed, grabbing her shoulders and hugging her against him. “IT’s not real. It’s not real. You’re in a safehouse. You’re name is Kat. You have a bodyguard named Frank. Your father is a mob boss.” He whispers things that are real as she comes out of her nightmare.

“Thank you.” She sniffs, curling into herself. He sits gently on the edge of the bed and draws her against him.

“No problem. Sometimes I get ‘em too.” He ruffs, looking at her with a small smile.

“Really? How do you make them go away?” She asks.

“I killed the men responsible.” He offers a crooked smile and she laughs. “Go to sleep.” He coos, smoothing her hair as she starts to drift.

“Oh, Frank? Tomorrow morning there’s supposed to a delivery driver at the door. I ordered coffee for the morning.” She smiles, letting him hug her against him, resting his chin atop her head.

“I’ll try not to kill them.” He hushes as he hears her lightly snoring. Sleep starts to push his eyelids closed and slowly, he leans back against the headboard, exhausted. Soon, she’s climbing on him in her sleep, cuddled as close as possible under his chin and on his chest. His arms curl around her instinctively. Safety washes over her as she peeps through one sleepy eyelid to see Frank so close to her asleep. Smiling, she tucks her head back under his chin and goes back to sleep.

A knock sounds at the door, waking them both out of their comforting bubble.

“Ssh. Don’t move.” He rises, scrubbing his face and stalking silently to the door. She takes a ten from her wallet and slides it under the door. “Put the coffee down, take your tip and walk away.” He demands, never opening the door. Once the man’s out of sight, she slips out and snatches the two coffees and the small bag of coffee grounds.

“Frankie!” She calls, handing him a coffee when she finds him standing in the kitchen making breakfast.

“Yes, coffee.” He chuckles, taking the cup and sipping the hot caffeinated drink.

“Thank you for last night. Ugh, sounds weird to say like that, but you know what I mean. I didn’t have a nightmare when you slept there. Can-I just-well-sorry. It’s stupid.”

“Nah, ask.” He assures, sliding a plate across to her.

“I just wondered, you know, if maybe--if you wanted to--possibly sleep in the same bed again. It doesn’t have to get weird. I just--that was the first night in almost two weeks I didn’t have another nightmare. It was exhilarating.” She stammers, so afraid of what the big brute might say.

“That’s fine.” He nods, sitting down to eat, but not before he pats a hand to her shoulder.

“So tell me something about you.”

“I was in a special forces military ops.” He offers, finishing his plate in record time.

“Wow, that’s explains your nightmares.” She wags her brows, almost halfway done with her plate.

“No, it doesn’t. My family was shot in a park. While I was there. It was meant for me but they didn’t get me. They got my son, my daughter, and my sweet wife.” He husks, his throat starting to close. Springing from her seat, fork clattering to the plate with a glass ‘ting’ she jumps into his arms, wrapping her arms around him and gripping tight.

“Christ, I’m so sorry. My husband was shot down while working with my father. The bullets were meant for my father, but the killer got the wrong info.” She whispers, and Frank’s arms wrap around her, hugging her tight to his hard body.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, letting her hold him for what seems like hours.

“Frank? Can you promise me something?” She asks as she leans back a little.

“Sure.”

“Promise me you’ll do everything you can to stay alive. Okay? You’re a good man, Frank, and I don’t want to be the reason you die. I--You could walk out and I’d understand. You can leave.” She assures, elbows resting on his shoulders. Frank rises to his feet, towering over her and grabs her chin in his thumb and first finger.

“I’m not leaving. I’m not going anywhere. I already made a promise to your father to keep you safe if it kills me, so his negates yours. Sorry, hunny.” He hushes, grinning at her.

“Ugh, no fun.” She whines, tugging her face away from from his warm, firm grip and finding a sweatshirt to put on. It was chilly, Frank found it soothing, but his roommate not so much and she came back into the room in his black hoodie, almost drowning in it. He couldn’t hide the the small chuckle. “Hey Frank? Do you think we could go out today?” She asks, rolling the sleeves once so she could use her hands.

“No. I think we could not.” He mocks in a high pitched voice. She crosses her arms over her chest and pouts. Frank huffs, not sure if he should take her out. Grabbing his phone, he dials her father. “Why do you need to go out? We have coffee now, what else do you need?” He asks.

“I want fresh veggies from the market. I’d love to make something for dinner but all we have are like--lettuce and carrots.” She complains through a hand at the fridge in exasperation.

“Lettuce and carrots, fresh veggies! By the way! And you’re complaining.” She grabs his hands and gets right up to his chest.

“C’mon sweet husband of mine. Don’t you want to go out with your new bride?” She asks, jumping a little in excitement.

“Darlin’. Listen to me-- Yeah!” He answers his phone as her father calls him back.

“Hey Frank! You rang?”

“Yeah, your daughter wants to go out to the market right down the block. She wants to buy some veggies. I’m on my A game, sir. If you’re fine with it, I’ll take her.” He offers, shushing her with his hand clasping over her mouth. She looks at him with a smile, Frank feeling his heart swell.

“If you believe you can handle it, I don’t care if you two love birds go out.” Her father chuckles. “Put her on quick.” Frank puts the phone to her ear.

“Hello?” She asks.

“Hey baby. Listen to me. I don’t care if you two leave, but you have to stay at Frank’s side. You have to stay glued to him. You understand?” He asks into the phone, his expressions matching his words as if he were speaking to her face to face.

“Yeah, pop. Like glue. I love you!” She smiles into the phone, her father saying it back before they hang up.

“You ready?” He ruggs, offering her an elbow after letting her put on her white Gucci sneakers with her shorts and Frank’s sweatshirt. Sweater paw on his elbow, they leave arm in arm. His grips her hand as they step out. “Also, I’m Pete, your Honey.” He smiles, earning a half-upset look from her as they get into the elevator.

“Alright Pete.” She coos as they get into the car waiting for them. Driving them the two blocks, Frank gets out first, eyes scanning the perimeter. Finding nothing alarming, he nods to let her out. Her sweater paw reaches for his arm, but his hand cups high on her hip, pulling her against him as they walk through the market. “Aw hunny, over here! Some tomatoes! And some fresh basil, oregano, thyme, and ooh! Parsley!” As the two pay for their vegetables at each stand, Frank notices the man a few yards back, following them. Frank tries to hurry her along, but she’s intrigued by every stand and wants to look at everything. With two bags of veggies, a bag of chicken, and a grin as wide as Frank’s chest, he convinces her to get in the car just as the man reaches for her. Frank’s hand comes down hard and fast. When the man sees Frank’s face, his heart hits the floor and he turns, running away.

“Hunny, did that man just run the other direction?” She asks, looking to him as he shoves her into the car and they get into the apartment as fast he can. Once in the door, Frank’s hands graze over her body to be sure of no injuries, but she laughs it off.

Stepping into the kitchen, she opens the cupboard and heaves a sigh of relief.

“Thank god they brought cooking wine.” She assures, reaching but not quite grasping it. Climbing onto the counter and grabbing the wine bottle, her hand slips and she falls backwards but she and the wine bottle, never hit the floor.

“You are so clumsy.” He chuckles, righting her small frame and handing her the wine. “What are you making?” He asks, looking to her with a smirk.

“Chicken cacciatore, my nonna was the best at it, but I try my best.” She smiles shyly as she starts cooking.

As Frank takes his first bite, his eyes roll back and he moans. His reaction catches her offguard and she looks at him with a confused smile.

“It’s good. What can I say?” He shrugs, giving her a smile.

“Right, thank you.” She coughs, going back to eating her own. It didn’t taste like home but it almost did. She was happy to have it. She thinks back to earlier when the man trying to attack her saw Frank and ran away. It was remarkable yet a little unnerving. “Hey, Frank? Why did that man run away from you?” She asks as he takes a bite of dinner and looks up from his plate. His eyes are calculating, not sure what he should say. He assumed she knew about him. Since her father had found out, he assumed that she knew.

“I uh, I killed a lot of people. Bad people, but, still alot of people.” He wags his brows, holding his breath.

“How many?” She asks, taking another bite as if this were small talk.

“Thirty five.” He coughs, trying to disguise it. She looks up for a moment and a grin crosses her face.

“Wow, thirty five? My father’s record for one day is only ten.” She blabs, continuing to eat.

“It wasn’t in one day. I killed all the people responsible for my family’s deaths. Everyone.” He hushes, looking at her as she continues to eat. When she glances up, her eyes meet his and she gives an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, Frank. Holy shit!” Her fork clatters to her plate and she jumps to her feet. “Frank Castle! Holy shit! Oh my god! You’re Frank Castle! Holy fuck.” She stammers over and over, staring at him with wide, loving eyes. “Sorry, most girls crush on celebrities, but not this one. I mean, you are a celebrity, a dead one. But still, wow. You are beautiful.” She coos, staring at him. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you. Wow, Frank Castle. I gotta call Lyla! She’s never gonna believe this!” She crows like a teenage girl, fumbling for her phone. “We used to watch your news pieces and when you killed all those people in prison, amazing.” He plucks the phone from her hand and he laughs.

“No out calls.” He laughs, trying to compose himself.

“Oh come on! I just made the discovery of a century, and you won’t let me call my best friend?” Whining, she stamps a foot like a child and he gives her a half smirk.

“I’m sorry, darlin’.”

“Stop calling me that.” She huffs, her playfulness gone for a moment.

“Why?” He prods. A knock sounds at the door, making both of them jump. His hand grips her wrist across the table and he creeps around, putting her against the wall. Sneaking to the door, he looks through the peephole to see Lyla standing there, but instead of her giddy self, she’s rather squeemish, shifting from foot to foot, looking around nervously. Frank carefully opens the door, but it comes blasting in on him, sending him soaring into the couch.

“I’m sorry!” Lyla sobs as three grown Russian men shove in, grabbing Frank and throwing fist after fist into his face. Looking for her, one Russian reaches over the counter to grab her, but she stabs him with a knife in the arm. The man growls, yanking his arm back. Dislodging the knife, he tosses it aside to find she’s gone. Hunting for her while they kick Frank. A gun shot echoes and one of the Russians falls to the floor. Lyla stands with the gun in her hands, tears in her eyes as another Russian jumps on her, grabbing her by the hair and throwing her into the wall. Kat finds a gun in Frank’s bag and she shoots the large man beating on her best friend and just as she points the gun at the one on Frank, she sees the man’s dead body flop over onto another of the Russians. Frank rises to his feet, blowing air out his nose, blood spraying as he did so. Foot steps slow and calculated as he walks to Lyla, her scared whimpers enough to break Kat’s heart as Frank grabs the front of her shirt and drags her to her feet.

“You brought them here?” He growls low, his voice dark and feral.

“I-they were gonna kill my mom and me if I didn’t tell them.” She whimpers, tears falling down her face.

“And they almost killed you and her.” He barks, pointing to Kat, who stands in shock, quaking with a gun in her hand. Frank limps to her, slowly drawing the gun from her hands and placing it on the couch. “It’s okay.” He whispers, letting her drop her head to his shoulder. She hiccups and then sobs, gripping the back of his blood soaked shirt.

“Frank--you--you’re--” He covers her mouth with a bloody hand, shaking his head.

“I’m fine, darlin’.” She huffs and smiles, tears staining her cheeks. When her eyes lift over her shoulder, she sees the front door still wide open. Giving a shriek, she slips from his grip and slams the door, locking every deadbolt and chain before running back to Frank and gripping him tight.

“Frank, you-you’re bleeding.” She coos, carefully taking him to the couch. Appearing a moment later with a kit in her shaking hands. “Lyla, grab the bottle of rum from the cupboard. Also, it’s Frank fucking Castle!” She cheers as Lyla brings the bottle to her. When her eyes finally meet the man’s face she gasps.

“Holy shit. Your serial killer boyfriend is real.” She laughs, trying to calm her down. Taking a couple swigs from the bottle, she offers it to Frank.

“You want any?” She asks.

“Nah. Really I’m fine.” He hushes, letting his hands cover hers.

“Shut up, Frank.” She nips, swatting away his hands. Cleaning up his face, she puts a couple butterflies on the cut on his forehead, and a bandaid on the little ones on his cheek and chin.

“Darlin’ c’mon. Stop it.” He huffs, pushing her hands away. Jabbing a finger into his chest, earning a groan.

“Quit. Calling. Me. That.” She bites, clapping the kit closed and stomping to the bathroom to put it away.

“What’s her problem?” He huffs to himself, grabbing his cellphone and dialling her father.

“Yeah?”

“So the friend we thought we could trust, not so trustworthy. I need a discreet clean up crew.” He explains, when he sees her appear again. She hooks her arms under the man’s arms and drags him over to the pile of two more bodies and groans in disgust. “Hey, quit touching those.” He hushes, covering the mic on the phone.

“No! I want them gone.” She cries, tears starting to fall down her face.

“Ssh, it’s okay. Calm down.” He cuddles her against his strong body and coos in her ear.

“Clean up crew is on it’s way. Now, tell me my daughter is okay.” Her father’s voice calls to Frank.

“She’s fine, sir. She was cracking jokes earlier.” He chuckles, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

“Good. The clean up crew is four men. They’ll bring a laundry cart up, say they’re here for pickup. You let them in.” Her father says as someone knocks on the door. She dives for the pistol and points it at the door, quaking as Frank carefully opens it to find a two laundry bins and four men.

“Sorry, she’s still scared.” He offers, reaching out and pulling the gun from her hands.

“It’s okay, sir. We just want to remove the bed bugs and get you cleaned up.” The man informs, putting the bodies into the carts and cleaning up in less than an hour. A deep breath escapes her as she sags against Frank, relaxed. His arm closes around her shoulder and he pats her clothed back.

Two Weeks go by, fun had by the two holed up in a small New York penthouse.

“Hey doll, I’m gonna head down for coffee. Don’t let anyone in, okay?” Frank’s gravelly voice washes over her for a moment as he walks through the door. “Lock all of these. I’ll knock twice and call out to you.” He smiles, patting her arm before stepping out and shutting the door. Frank listens as the door locks click, breathing out softly. He was nervous to leave but he hadn’t heard a sound, and there were other men posted outside the room and the building.

He gets to the bakery just down the street and orders her coffee, and his, getting a strawberry turnover with a little smile. Paying for the items, Frank looks at the bag and coffee cups in his hand and he gives a chuckle. He thought to himself, for a moment that he could have this. This life could be his. Getting coffee and turnovers in the morning like some kind of domesticated husband, the kind of husband he wanted to be for Maria. He chuckles, shaking his head. As he gets up the stairs, he sees two guards knocked out, laying in a pile.

“Shit.” Sprinting into room, the coffee hitting the tiled floor and splashing out, splattering up onto the bottom of the sofa where they sat comfortable in each others silence for almost four weeks. His eyes drop to the blood on the couch and the blood on the table, smeared like fingers grasping for the edge. His breath hitches, trying to breathe, but he can’t. “Kat! Kat!” He shouts, screaming at the top of his lungs.

“Frank Castle. It is Castle, right?” A voice calls, and when he turns, he finds a small woman standing before him, Agent Madani.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He barks, voice low and eyes on hers like lasers.

“Saving your little girlfriend you’ve been playing house with. She’s safe. Undisclosed location. Thinks her father is in questioning. No worries, nothing incriminating. But, tell me, Frank. What would you do if I weren’t watching this place, huh? I need to make a deal with her father, but he needs to know it’s the FBI. He will go to a maximum security prison for the rest of his life, but he and his daughter will be safe. The safest she can be, which I think is a little important to you.” She informs, arms crossed over her chest, watching Frank stand there, his chest heaving.

“You have her? Is she under surveillance? Can I see her?” He barks, storming towards her like a black cloud.

“After you get me a meeting with her father, Gianno Lucciani.” She retorts, not letting up. Frank steps closer, hand gripped around Madani’s neck, ready to squeeze, but he doesn’t.

“I’ll see.” He whispers, yanking away the hand around her neck he grabs his phone, calling her father.

“Frank?”

“Yeah, Gianno. Listen to me, man. You gotta come down here to the safehouse.” Frank tries to be calm but his voice wavers slightly.

“Frank, what’s wrong?” He demands.

“There’s some FBI agents here. They’re questioning Kat. They want to cut you a deal. They said they’ll let Kat go when you’re here.” He informs.

“Okay. I’ll be there in five minutes.” He barks, hanging up.

“You gotta handcuff me. When he gets here, he’s gotta think you busted in and got me down first. You’re gonna wanna bring Kat back in too.” He offers. “If his daughter isn’t here, he’ll kill everyone in here if he doesn’t see her face.” He shrugs, putting his hands behind his back and letting them cuff him. They cuff his ankles too for good measure and just as they drop him onto the ground her father comes bursting into the door.

“My daughter.” He growls, gun jammed into Madani’s head. “Unlock him. He’s just her bodyguard. Pete Castliglione. You’re name is Pete right? Why is he handcuffed?” He barks, jabbing a finger at Frank on the floor.

“Yeah, listen, Madani knows. I’m Frank fuckin’ Castle. Okay? We need to see Kat now.” He barks as they take the cuffs off.

“Bring her in.” Madani calls, waving to a couple agents as they head out, returning with his sweet Kat.

“Shit.” He whispers as she piles into him, clinging to him like a lifeboat in the middle of a raging sea.

“Frank, Frank. They broke in. They-the government. They took me to a room. Questioned me. Frank, I--”

“Ssh. Ssh. Ssh. It’s okay, darlin’.” He whispers, her father stepping out into the hallway with Madani.

“Frank I said--”

“Don’t call you that, but it’s important today. Okay?” He coos, grabbing her and kissing her forehead. Her father walks in just in time to see Frank holding her tight against him. His big arms wrapped around her, making her look small and frail.

“Kat, baby, you okay?” She twists around in Frank’s grip. As he starts to let go, her hands grip tightly to his forearms and she chokes on a sob.

“It’s okay. I’m right behind you.” He coos, tugging his arms away as she stumbles to her father.

“Baby, you’re okay. Listen, daddy’s gonna be going away for a while. Okay?” He coos calmly, as if he’s still talking to the same little girl from twenty years ago.

“Daddy, what--”

“The government woman is--”

“Quit talking to me like a child!” She shrieks, screaming at him and stamping her foot.

“I’m taking your father into custody for all the money laundering, the murders of five men, and for running a drug ring underground that we now have you admitting to.” Madani informs loudly as they cuff her father and start walking him down, out into the parking lot. “Put a vest on her, call it protection, whatever you need to do to put her into safety. We’ll shoot her. Take her as crossfire. The Russians and the Cartel will be down there. He’s safest in prison. And we’ll get him there. I need Frank removed safely. Once we’re out of here, they’ll load her into a body bag and get her somewhere safe with Frank. No one tip off Frank or the father. If they know something’s up they’ll take her, whether they think she’s alive or not.” She informs her agents as they load Frank and her father into cars. When she screams at them, the firing of pistols and semi-automatic hand guns fills the air.

“No! Daddy!” She screams, running to the car, but as the car pulls away, an agent strategically shoots her in the chest twice, Frank’s heart hitting the concrete.

“No!” He cries, shaking violently in his cuffs as he tries to get out. Slamming his head into the window, he doesn’t even crack it.

“No! My baby!” Her father screams, following Frank’s actions. They leave her lying on the concrete, tears falling down his face more and more as he fights harder. Madani draws Frank from the car and drags him kicking, into another building.

“Listen!” She shouts over Frank’s heavy, deafening breathing.

“Madani, let me outta these goddamn handcuffs or I swear on Christ I’ll kill everyone in here. You too.” He growls low and hard, his eyes dark burning into the agent as she stands her ground.

“Frank. Frank, calm down.” She coos as they roll a stretcher in with a body bag. “Frank, her father’s going to a white collar prison, he’ll be safe. Frank. Calm down. I’m gonna take these off but please--”

“The bag. What’s in the bag!?” He screams. As the cuffs come off, his hands wrap around Madani’s throat, squeezing until hse’s gripping at his hands, his knuckles white.

“Frank?” Her soft voice takes his breath from his lungs and he drops Madani on the floor, her gasping just quietly in the background. “Frank I’m right here.” She whispers, rising from her bag like a zombie.

“Darlin’. Baby girl. Holy shit.” He whispers, gripping her and holding her against him.

“Frank, my dad. My dad, he thinks I’m--”

“Your father thinks you are dead, and that’s the safest thing for him to think right now. He’s going to a good prison, where he’ll be safe, but he wanted you as safe as possible, and if he, the Russians, and the Cartel believe that his only daughter is dead you are in no danger.” Madani explains, giving her a soft smile.

“My father thinks his only daughter is dead! He’s being arrested and sent to a prison? Frank?” She looks at him with betrayal twinkling in her eyes and Frank chokes, grunting at the pain. She’d never looked at him like that before. “Did you know?”

“Yeah.” He whispers.

“You knew? You helped them?” She cries, grabbing his shirt and shaking him.

“It isn’t what it looks like. You’re father--”

“Your father needed to be safe, and taking him into a facility where the cartel and Russians can’t get him is as safe as he can be.” Madani tries to explain. Kat turns, a fire in her eyes that Frank might’ve been scared of any other day. He folds his arms around her, constricting like a boa, holding steadfast as she begins to kick and hit, screaming at the top of her lungs for Frank to let go.

“I’m gonna kill you, bitch! I’m gonna kill you!” She screams, kicking and slapping at Frank’s stony arms. “Let go of me!” She cries, pushing his arms away and running for the door.

“No! Don’t go out there!” Madani yells. “There’s a Russian mob and a mexican Cartel being arrested right now with the help of your father’s information and willingness to cooperate.” She stops in her tracks and faces Frank.

“You-you knew about this?” She whispers, shaking her head in disbelief. “I trusted you, Frank.” Shaking hands run through her hair as she stands near the door, unsure of what to do. “Frank, how could you?”

“Hun, I just-I wanted to keep you safe. You’re father asked for safety. This is the best I could offer him. I’m sorry.” He explains.

“Me too.” She grabs the handle of the warehouse and walks out into the daylight, pushing her way through the throng of curious eyes and speculating lips.

“Kathryn?” A voice calls, and when she turns, a gun is jabbed into her side she knows she’s messed up. “If you move or set off that Castle, I’ll kill ya for real this time.” The thick Russian accent gruff and low in her ear.

“Eyes on the bait! Eyes on the bait. Moving southeast with a russian, six feet five inches, short black hair, two tattoos on his hands, can’t make out what they say. Getting into a van now, license plate echo-six-bravo-nine-two-eight.” Frank listens quietly before he grabs the nearest gun and charges out the door.

Eyes scanning the vans, he sees one pull away from the curb and follows it.

“Castle is on the move.” Madani calls into the mic.

Frank sets into a sprint as he follows the van. Getting into the warehouse, he listens to hear her give a scream.

“Tell us about Frank Castle.” He growls, stabbing a small pering knife into her thigh. Crying out, she looks around and something about the empty warehouse didn’t feel empty.

“I don’t know any Frank. And that’s saying something, I’m Italian.” She giggles through harsh breaths as he slaps her. The crack across her face sends Frank into a frenzy of rage, killing every man but the man who stands between him and Kat.

“Pete!” She exclaims, rattling the chair legs on the ground. The Russian man’s eyes fall to where hers are locked he raises his brows, gulping audibly.

“Castle.” He growls, looking to Frank as his eyes narrow and he tries to put on a dangerous front. When his eyes meet Frank’s he finds something feral there, something predatory, and he steps back. Frank raises a gun, shooting the man between the shoulder and heart, dropping him on the ground. Gasp. Gasp. Frank ignores the man as he draws Kat from the chair.

“You okay?” He coos, leaving her with a giggle on her busted lips.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Punisher.” She laughs as she hugs his neck, pressing sweet little kisses to his cut face. Frank Castle, the Punisher, New York’s scariest vigilante, and yet these arms that had strangled, hands that killed were comforting her; they were carressing her body with such comfort that tears fell down her face. “Are you okay?”

“I just--I’m so mad at you, but I love you.” She whispers, sniffling. He sucks in a sharp breath.

“You mean that?” He coos as he walks her to his car. Stiffening, he looks at her rigid form and stops them, looking to her with a grin.

“I--”

“I love you too.” He assures, kissing her forehead as he meets Madani at the a roof top across town. Pulling into a parking garage, he leads her to the roof where Madani waits, a small bag in her hands.

“This is yours.” She hands the bag to Kat with a smiling nod. Skeptical and mad, she snatches the bag and hands it to Frank without a second glance.

“No, darlin’. It’s for you.” He smiles, handing it back. Glaring at the bag, she tugs it back to her and opens it. Drawing out it contents, she reads over them carefully.

‘Marriage Certificate

Katalina Jane Foster and Peter Michael Castiglione

Were married at Wilson City Courthouse

July 15th, 2010’

Among the items in the bag was a social security card with her new name, and a driver’s license, passport, and the deed to a house in Atlanta, Georgia. Frank looks at her with a smile.

“Well what if I didn’t want to marry you?” She asks with a challenging smirk.

“Then I’d have to take this back.” He pops open small, velvety red ring box, exposing a dainty piece of silver jewelry with pretty little blue sapphires in it. With a huge grin on her face, she jumps into his waiting arms and kisses his face. Madani watches on with a smile as Frank loads his new bride into a car and they drive away.

[softboywriting]

Mi Alma | Santiago “Pope” Garcia

Summary: After years of tension, you and Santiago finally get together at your best friend’s wedding. [Film: Triple Frontier] [Post-Film] [Flirting] [Making Out] 

Word Count: 6.7k

|Masterlist In Bio|

Frankie and Tiia's wedding is unlike any other you've been to, and you've been to a few. You're the last of your friends to get married, if it ever happens. You're picky with your men, have high standards. It's fine. You don't mind being alone for a while. Drama and games are not in the cards for you so you won't settle for someone. But this isn't about you and your love life, or so you think.

The couple was never quite normal. Frankie coming from a Catholic upbringing and since shunning it to become his own man and follow his heart. Tiia has always been a free spirit and very much into the unknown and world around her. They make an interesting yet perfect match and their wedding is no run of the mill church ceremony with a bunch of people in pews for hours on end. No. They have quite the opposite.

For starters the wedding is outdoors, a forested area just behind the house Frankie and Tiia bought last year. It's beautiful, the trees in full bloom, greenery as far as the eye can see. There wasn't a ton of prep to be done for the ceremony, just setting up chairs and arranging flowers among the natural foliage. Orange and yellow, those are Tiia's colors. Roses, carnations, peonies, you name it. She took everything the florist could get her in those colors. Frankie didn't care, he said he would love anything she loves. There is an arch made of wood that a friend of yours specially crafted just for the happy couple. It's their wedding gift from him, as Tiia will put it in her garden after the ceremony.  

The day Tiia showed you her dress you knew that the wedding would be magical. It's non traditional of course, very Greek goddess meets fairy queen. Draped white and cream fabric, gold accents, braided embellishments. It's incredible and she looks completely stunning in it. It isn't until the day of the wedding that you see her veil, natural colored faux antlers made into a crown like setting atop her head. She is beautiful.

You find yourself on the day of the wedding getting ready and waiting for the ceremony to start. You've not been told who you are to walk with. Tiia said she didn't tell any of the bridesmaids who they're walking with because she didn't want to cause any problems. Honestly you're not sure what that means, you only know that your friend Caiti would have a problem if she was paired up with Benny because of a past relationship. You check your reflection in the small mirror decor beside the door you're meant to go out. You look fine. Good. Great actually. You twist your finger around a loose bit of hair by your temple and smooth the top of the dress that matches Tiia's flowy one. Damn good.

"You're up." Says Tiia's brother, opening the patio doors for you.

You take a deep breath, pull up the hem of your dress and step out. The plan is that you meet your groomsman at the end of the wrap around deck and you walk to the forest together. You can't help but wonder who it will be. Any of the guys would be great, you're familiar with them all. Benny? He is single currently. Will? No, his fiance is in the bridal party. Frankie's brother? Maybe but...no. Santiago. Oh Lord have mercy. If it's Santiago you're going to have to reach deep into yourself and find some inner calm. Every time the two of you are together with the crew it's like fire. It is undeniable the way you connect but you have never- shit.

At the end of the deck is Santiago. He looks insanely...tempting. You say a prayer to any force listening. Did he have to look so good? Tailored slacks, a deep blue button down, no tie and sleeve rolled up, even the watch on his wrist is sexy. Fucking hell you could just turn around and run back into the house. Demand another partner.

"Hermosa..." Santiago mutters as you approach.

"What's that?"

Santiago snaps his eyes to yours and smiles warmly. "Nothing, I was just thinking out loud." He offers his arm and you take it.

"What does that mean? Hermosa?"

He leads you carefully down the steps into the grass. "It means beautiful."

"Oh...oh!" You flush, heat rising from your chest. "Thank you."

Santiago chuckles softly and lifts your hand to kiss it. "Every woman should be told they look beautiful."

"You're a sweet talker today."

"I've had a drink or two. Frankie and I had a talk before the wedding, pre marital nerves."

"I can't imagine. I've never gotten that far into a relationship."

Santiago's eyes meet yours as you glance over to gauge his reaction. He raises his eyebrows and you raise yours. It's always like this. Silent conversations. They're louder than any words you've ever exchanged. "Are you excited for Tiia?"

"Through the roof. She hasn't shut up about Frankie since they met. I'm glad she's found her person."

"Me too." He stops as you arrive at the archway. "You never know when you'll meet the right person."

"Yeah, I guess so."

He steps away, touch lingering on your hand as he parts. "Who knows, maybe you've already met them."

You look at him and he says nothing more, just gives a little smile. He knows exactly what he's doing. Fueling the fire. That's it. This wedding, you're getting Santiago Garcia.

______________________

The entire ceremony you stared at each other and it is unlike ever before, there was no conversation in your eyes. It was just a game of who could out stare who. Until Frankie began reading his vows, then Santiago's gaze changed. It flicked between you and Frankie, soft and loving.

There were tears, actual tears when Frankie began to talk about how he felt about Tiia and their bond. All of the guys were crying, proud of their best friend to be so happy and excited to take this step in his life. But Santiago...he couldn't look away from you. You try not to look away from Tiia and Frankie, knowing they deserve your undivided attention and not Santiago. It's hard. Santiago's eyes...they're undeniable, irresistible, commanding. He is making it hard not to think about what it would be like to be in your friends shoes, or lack thereof because she is actually barefoot under that dress. What would a wedding with Santiago look like? A beautiful tailored suit, beard grown out a bit for sure, messy curls, bowtie or regular tie. Hmm. And your dress, white or blush? Formal or fun? You've never thought about your own wedding and yet here you are just-

You snap out of your dream world when the guests begin to clap, the ceremony is over. You raise your hands and clap, smiling at your friends. Santiago gestures for you to join him as the bride and groom walk back down the path. You're meant to follow after, being in the wedding party and all.

Santiago's hand slides across your lower back the moment you're in reach. You swear you can feel your skin tingle all the way up to the back of your neck. "That was incredible."

"It was a very pretty ceremony."

"Are you feeling well?"

You frown and look at him, he raises his eyebrows. "Yes? Do I look ill?"

He shakes his head. "Not in the slightest. You looked...distracted."

"Can't say I wasn't."

Santiago gives a soft knowing hum in response and nothing more. Kindling. He's throwing kindling into this fire now. The son of a bitch. No. You would never call him that. He's too good. "Ride with me?" He says and you realize you've walked together to the front of the house where everyone is parked.  

"I-...Benny."

"Benny?"

"I promised Benny I'd ride with him. I'm supposed to be his DD tonight and care for his truck should he get a little out of hand."

Santiago smiles softly. "I see. I'll meet you at the hall then?"

You nod.

He lays a hand on your cheek and presses a kiss to the opposite side. "Drive safe."

Your heart threatens to explode and you're stuck standing there like a deer in headlights. There is no way you're going to survive this wedding.

_____________________

The reception is when things really kick off, it usually is though isn't it. The reception is held at a party rental hall in town, their house not being ready for so many guests and a large dinner and dancing. You ride with Benny, having to just take a moment and figure out what your next move is with Santiago.

"You and Pope, huh?" Benny says, looking over at you. "When's that happening?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh come on anyone with eyes could see you two tryin’ to undress each other up there."

You stifle a noise of protest because you know that if you make a scene about it then Benny will be even nosier. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yeah alright sweetheart." Benny laughs to himself, a quick breathy little chuckle. "If a girl looked at me like that for an hour, we'd be kicking boots in the back of this truck right now."

"You're gross Benny."

"Never said I wasn't." He grins and does a little tongue click. "Pope is a good man, the best I know. Give'em a chance."

"Sure, thanks for the pep talk Benny."

"Anytime sweetheart."

Once you arrive at the reception you immediately run into Santiago. No, literally you smack into him when you step in the doors. He seemed to be on his way outside as you were going in. His familiar spicy cologne flls your nose and your eyes cross for a moment. You know it's him before he speaks, before you see his face.

His hand comes up, steadying you with it on your back. "Easy there, honey."

Honey. Fuck. You're so fucked. "Sorry, I was just trying to go in."

"Mmm. I forgot my phone in the car, I'll be back."

"I'll be seated?" You say awkwardly.

He chuckles and steps away from you. "Go on, don't wait for me."

"I wasn't going to?" You step in and look around for your table. It should be near the front. You look for the names and sure enough there you are right next to... Santiago. "Great."

"Is something wrong?"

You jump and Will chuckles. "No, I'm fine."

"Where'd Pope go?"

"His phone."

Will nods. "Have you seen Benny?"

You shrug. "We drove together but I've no idea where he went. Check the bar?"

"I checked there, I bet he's out back." Will sighs and heads for the emergency exit door that's propped open at the far end of the building.

You take a seat and Santiago returns, sliding behind you and taking his seat next to you. The chairs are close, the table being a little small for the amount of people seated at it. You can feel Santiago's warmth, his scent filling your nose. Oh how you love that cologne. It's one of two he's worn since you met and this one just nails it right on the head. If you knew the brand you would buy it and drown yourself in it.

His hand comes down on your thigh and you feel like the world has stopped and begun to burn around you. It is absolutely no mistake, he knows what he's doing. His fingers flex against the loose fabric of the dress and it falls open a bit along the side split, exposing your skin beneath.

Will stands from the end of your table and taps his glass a few times. He is going to make a speech. Of course, it's Will and he is the best speech giver you've ever met. You try to distract yourself, wondering how many wedding speeches he has given. If you ask him he will know. If you ask him how many of anything he has or does he will know. You smile to yourself, eyes flicking to Santiago. Will is the reason any of this is happening. If he hadn't given Santiago the coordinates to the ravine with Lorea's money, Santiago would have never gone after it, never gifted the wedding fund to Tiia and Frankie.

Santiago's hand shifts and you're acutely aware of its position further up your leg, his pinky finger brushing your tender inner thigh. Should you tell him to stop? He didn't ask to touch you, and you didn't tell him yes or no. Did he need to ask though? Honestly you don't mind aside from the fact that it's driving you crazy. He must know what he is doing to you, how you feel. He has always been physically affectionate with everyone, hugging, cheek kisses, hands on arms and backs. His love language is very obviously touching.

Will begins to wrap up, and you raise your glass with everyone else to toast. Santiago grabs his glass with his non dominant hand, not letting your thigh go. "To many years of love, happiness and joy. Mr. and Mrs. Morales!"

"I'm up next." Santiago says, giving you a squeeze that makes your stomach jump.

You watch him stand and he taps his glass. You have no idea why but your heart is pounding in your chest. His ass is in perfect view, his thighs...oh his thighs. You decide to get a little retribution for the thigh touching and you lay your hand on the back of his leg, just above the bend of his knee. It's not much, just a gentle touch and nowhere near sexual. You're sure he's burning up though.

"Tiia, the day Frankie met you I knew his fate was sealed. I had not once seen my brother so engrossed in a woman than when he talked about you. When you and I finally met, and I saw that red hair of yours, I knew there was something special. Hermana, eres fuego. You have made Frankie a better man, a calmer and more gentle man. Without you I don't know where he would be." Santiago raises his glass higher. "I hope to find a love like yours someday. Cheers to new family, life and a beautiful union!"

Your hand falls from his leg as he sits down and he slides his back over your thigh. "That was a nice speech," you whisper.

"Thank you. I know it wasn't nearly as long and detailed as Will's but I tried." He swipes his thumb back and forth. "Even if I had a little bit of a distraction."

You smile and give him an innocent look.

"Malo..." He mutters softly and tears his gaze from yours to Benny who's standing at the table opposite.

You reach out and run your hand over his shoulder, settling with it on the back of his neck. Your fingers slip into the curls there and he lets out a subtle shaky breath that you don't miss for a second. Two can participate in his game of touches and you're going to play hardball.

Benny makes his speech, short but sweet and meaningful. Tom's wife is up next. Before she stands you make eye contact with Tiia. You could feel her stare before you caught it. She gives a little smirk.

"Honey, you're going to make me fall asleep." Santiago whispers, ducking his head close to you after a minute or two.

"That's not quite my goal."

He slips his hand down your inner thigh and you feel heat swell between your legs. "What is your goal?"

"What is your goal, Santiago."

"I-"

"Thank you everyone for coming and for your well wishes. It means the world to Tiia and I that we're surrounded by so much love." Frankie says and everyone cheers softly. "Let's have dinner and cake!"

"Bride or groom?" Santiago asks, close to your ear.

"H-Huh?"

"The cakes. Bride or groom's cake?" He points to the table with the two cakes on it. "I'll get you a piece."

You try to remember what kind they both are but you're drawing a blank. All you can focus on is Santiago and you feel bad. This day should be about your friends and here you are wetting your fucking pants for Santiago Garcia. Christ.

"Honey?" He purrs and your mouth falls open as he squeezes your thigh. "I'll get one of each."

"Y-yeah. "

Santiago stands and leaves the table. The lack of heat on your leg is a shock. You're still burning up but it's nowhere near as bad as when he's close. Tiia comes over and leans against your table, she grins knowingly at you.

"How's it going over here?"

"Fine? Should it not be?"

"Is he being nice?"

"Santi?"

"Santi?"

You flush and lean your head into your hand. "Santiago. Yes, he's being nice. Why? He is always a sweetheart."

Santiago returns with two plates of cake and sets them on the table. He grabs Tiia's cheek and gives her a kiss to the temple. "Hermana."

"Problema." Tiia giggles and Santiago rolls his eyes.

"I am not trouble." He takes his seat beside you and gives a pointed look at Frankie nearby laughing with Will and Benny. "Hay problema."

Tiia pushes Santiago's head and he laughs. "Frankie is not trouble! He's a good boy."

"Mmmm." Santiago says, raising his eyebrows. "Good boys don't have the most fun." He catches your gaze and winks.

"You're insufferable. Enjoy the cake, lovely." Tiia says to you and heads off to meet her new husband.

Santiago dips his fork into the slice of white and yellow frosted cake, the bride's cake, and brings it up to your lips. "Try it?"

"I can feed myself," you giggle and he bumps the frosted bit against your lips. You open and take the cake in. It's delicious and you remember now. It's an apple spiced white cake with caramel cream center.

"Good?" He asks, cutting a bit for himself. "Oh wow that's amazing."

You nod and reach for your own fork but Santiago pushes it away. "Hey-"

"I got it." He smirks, cutting a slice of the groom's cake. Chocolate with butter rum filling. "Open up."

"Give me my fork, Santiago."

He shakes his head and you reach for it. He knocks your hand away and holds your wrist loosely. "Ah, I said open up."

"Santi..."

His eyes go darker than you've ever seen and you imagine they must be lust filled to be so heavy. "Open up." He says once more, but this time with more authority.

You open your mouth obediently and he presses the fork down gently to your tongue as he slides it out. "Mmmm."

"Better than the last one?" He asks, cutting another piece and holding it up for you. You take it in as well and he smiles.

This is far too intimate. What the fuck are you doing? You're not even together, you're not dating, neither of you have explicitly said this was happening. Not to mention you're at your friend's wedding, in front of people and he's... he's driving you insane.

"Excuse me." You mutter softly, pushing away from the table and leaving a very confused Santiago behind. You head for the emergency exit and take a deep breath of the cool spring air as you step outside. You need to breathe.

___________________

Minutes tick by as you sit on the fence post that blocks a patio area from the parking lot. You figured Santiago would have come for you by now, but you didn't expect it. He's too sweet to impede upon your personal space when he knows you definitely needed it because of his actions. Footsteps behind you draw your attention away from the passing traffic on the road nearby. It's Will.

"What're you doing out here all alone?"

"Getting some fresh air."

"I can understand that." Will takes a seat next to you. "I saw you head out here earlier. I figured I'd give you a little bit before coming to check on you."

"Thanks. Am I missing anything?"

"Tiia is going to throw the bouquet soon. Do you want to catch it?"

You laugh softly to yourself. Do you want to? Do you want to be the next friend to marry? You're the only one not married besides Benny. The rest of the guests are family or friends who are married. "Maybe Benny should give it a try."

Will snorts and you laugh at the sound. "You'd need tempered steel to tie that man down. He's too wild, too free to settle down."

"Yeah, Benny is...Benny."

Will taps your arm with the back of his hand. "C'mon, let's go see who gets the bouquet."

"Alright." You slide off the fence and head back into the hall with Will.

Inside you see a crowd of people near the bride and grooms table. Tiia has her back to the crowd and you watch as she swings the bundle of flowers backwards. There is a collective gasp and you strain to see who caught the flowers.

As the crowd clears you see Santiago standing there with the bouquet. He's laughing, saying something to Frankie's aunt nearby and then he sees you. Your heart races. He gestures for you to come to him.

"Why did you-"

"For you." He holds the bouquet up and kisses your cheek. "I thought you might want them."

"Thank you. They're pretty."

"Are you okay?"

"Huh? Yeah, why- oh. When I went outside. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to just run out on you." You lick your lips and look down from his gaze. "I just needed some air."

Santiago cups your cheek. "Hey, look at me."

You look at him and it's a mistake. Your heart pounds, threatening to break through your ribs. "Yes?"  

He leans in whispers, "Did I go too far earlier?"

"The cake?"

He nods.

"It was unexpected, but no." You can feel a flush rising in your chest. "I mean you've always been affectionate but we haven't really...talked about it."

Santiago chuckles softly. "I suppose we haven't. It's always been there but we've never acknowledged it. Are you uncomfortable? I know I'm a few years older and-"

"Santiago."

"Yes?"

"We're in the middle of a wedding. Maybe we should discuss this later? More privately?" You look around at the crowd that's pretty much dispersed.

He cracks a sheepish smile and tucks a bit of hair behind your ear, gliding his fingertips along your cheek before bumping your lip with his thumb. "Mas tarde, cariña," he murmurs.

You lick your lip where he touched and he doesn't miss it, eyes snapping to your mouth. "You know that I know limited Spanish."

"I said we'll talk later." He puts his arm around you and guides you toward your table. "Let's clear the way for the married couple's first dance."

_____________________

The first dance doesn't happen right away. The removal of the garter happens first. For those unfamiliar, it's like the tossing of the bouquet but generally for the men. The husband removes his wife's garter, a thin band of fabric worn around the thigh, and tosses it to the crowd. The one who catches it is said to be the next to marry. It's a symbol of good luck.

You watch as Tiia takes a seat in a chair brought out to the center floor. She is bright pink and you can't help but laugh a little. Frankie comes around the chair, taking her hand and kissing it gently. He says something you can't make out, but Tiia smiles.

"Come on Frankie!" Benny hollers.

"Oh be quiet Benny!" Frankie quips, flipping off his friend. "Not like you want it!"

"The hell I don't!"

Everyone laughs.

Santiago's hand slides over your knee, pushing the dress aside and allowing it to fall open. He can't keep his hands off of you it seems.

Frankie kneels down and pushes Tiia's dress up to expose her legs.

Santiago's hand inches up your leg, massaging his fingertips tenderly into the soft skin. You spare him a glance and his focus seems to be on the married couple like everyone else.

Frankie leans in and grabs the garter with his teeth and the guests cheer him on. You attempt to clap but your brain is elsewhere, short circuiting on the arousal nerves between your legs.

"Do you want it?" Santiago purrs in your ear and you shiver. Why did that have to sound like such a loaded question. Do you want what? Him? The garter? His attention?

"W-what?"

"The garter."

You turn your head to look at him and reply when suddenly you're smacked in the face with something. You jump, startled by the sudden sensation, and look down at the table where the white garter is sitting on it.

Somewhere Benny is hollering wildly, and Frankie says something along the lines of how you're the lucky lady. You don't hear it really because Santiago grabs the garter and rubs it between his fingers, smiling at you playfully. His other hand is still on your leg, farther up and dangerously close to your underwear.

"I'd love to see you in this." He says, fingers flexing on your skin. "And nothing else."

"Santiago!" You whisper sharply and he leans in close.

His lips meet yours and your heart stops. The world stops. His hand leaves your thigh and slides around to your hip, the other cradles your head, angling your face for better access.

It's like years of tension have finally broken and now it's coming out like breach in a dam. You reach for him, not sure what to grab but you land on his hair and his shoulder. He deepens the kiss, tongue pushing past your lips to roll against yours. He tastes like minty gum and you can't get enough.

He grips your hips with both hands and hauls you over onto his lap. The chair creaks under the weight of two bodies. You can't care, this is a dream come true. You don't want to stop kissing him because if you do, it feels like it might never happen again.

"Baby," Santiago groans into your mouth as you roll your hips down against his lap, desperate for some release. "Baby we gotta stop."

"No," you lick into his mouth desperately and he chases your lips, biting gently to slow you down.

His hand finds your hair and grips firmly, pulling you back. "Listen to me."

You stare at him, eyes locked on to his. They're so full of promises of what's to come. He looks as wrecked as you do, you're sure. "Yes?"

He grins slowly, leaning in for a soft kiss. "God you're beautiful like this."

You try to return the kiss, chasing his lips as he pulls back but his grip in your hair is firm.

"We're still at the wedding." He says softly. "I don't think we should be grinding on each other in such a public setting."

You lean back, settling yourself back on his thighs. Reality comes creeping in, a cold rush of embarrassment rising up your spine. He's right. You're at the wedding still, everyone can see you right now. You got so caught up in the euphoria that you forgot where you were.

"Santiago, you son of a bitch." Benny says from behind you. "You finally did it."

You turn and look back while Santiago leans over to see Benny. "Go away."

"Oh I will, I'll leave you two to face suck like teenagers. I just wanted to say it's about time. How was it?"

"Benny." Santiago says warningly.

You look between the two of them. "How was the kiss?"

Benny nods.

"Good, really good? Why?"

Santiago groans.

"Do you know why we call him Pope?" Benny asks and you shake your head. "It's because he brings you closer to God when he gets his hands on you."

"Benny! Fuck off!" Santiago shouts and throws a fork on the table at him. Benny dodges the projectile and runs off laughing. "God damn menace."

You run your hand through his curls, brushing your thumb over a little spot of grays peeking through. "Is that true?"

"Is what true? The Pope thing?"

"Yeah. Is that why they call you Pope?"

Santiago smiles softly. "It is. It's stupid and childish but-"

"I like it." You slide off his lap and lean in close to his ear. "You took me closer to God with a kiss, I can only imagine what more will be like." You grab his hand and before he can respond you step back, pulling his arm up. "Dance with me?"

_____________________

You and Santiago dance for a long time, slow and sweet. After about the tenth song he kisses your temple and says he needs to take a seat, his knees are killing him. You part from him and he goes to sit with Will and Frankie who are near the bar. You turn and head to the bride and grooms table to sit with Tiia.

"Hey you," Tiia says with a playful smirk. "I thought you were gonna get eaten alive earlier."

"I'm sorry." You sink down into Frankie's chair and she laughs. "I just lost my mind for a few minutes there. Was everyone staring?"

"No, everyone got up to dance and get food from the buffett. I noticed, obviously, because I've been watching you all night."

"Creepy."

Tiia pushes your shoulder. "Oh shut up. I set you up, but I never could have guessed this outcome."

"You set me up?"

"Yeah? I picked Santiago to be your best man. I knew the two of you have had chemistry since you met. I just gave you a little nudge in the right direction." She looks smug as she takes a sip of her wine. "You're welcome."

"You're a troublemaker."

"Matchmaker, thank you."

You roll your eyes. "Maybe too good of a match maker. I sucked face while you had your first dance."

She laughs, nearly spitting out her wine. "I don't need everyone to watch me dance with my husband to validate our marriage. You're my best friend, the fact that you are just as happy on my wedding day as I am, that means the world to me. You deserve a good man, and Santiago is a very good man."

"You really aren't mad I didn't pay attention?"

"Nope, because I can guarantee you I'll be all over Frankie at your wedding."

"My wedding? Yeah we'll be in our sixties before that happens." You pick at a spot on the front of your dress, directing your focus elsewhere in hopes of ending this conversation. "No one wants to marry me."

Tiia kicks you. "Bullshit. If you asked Santiago right now to run away and get married at a little chapel in Vegas he'd say yes."

"No he wouldn't. He's not reckless."

"Yes, he is. When it comes to you there is nothing he wouldn't do."

"Whatever."

"Whatever," she says mockingly. "Do you have any idea what he has told Frankie?"

You narrow your eyes. "You're lying."

"Have I ever lied to you?"

"Once. A birthday present that I figured out."

Tiia rolls her eyes. "That doesn't count."

"Why would Frankie tell you about what he and Santiago discuss?"

"Because I'm nosey and I ask. Plus, you're my best friend and you two have obvious chemistry."

"So what did he say?"

Tiia points to Santiago as he makes his way across the room. "Why don't you ask him yourself?"

"Tiia!"

"What's my two favorite women chatting about huh?" Santiago smiles and hands you a glass.

You look down into the glass. You can't drink today, you're Benny's designated driver.

"It's non alcoholic, don't worry."

"Thank you."

"She doesn't need alcohol to get a little crazy." Tiia teases, elbowing you from her seat. "She has a better drug, right Pope?"

Santiago chuckles. "You're never going to let us live that moment down huh?"

"Never. I was surprised you didn't just take her to the bathroom."

"Tiia!" You shove her and she cackles. "God!"

"I'm teasing you. Seriously, if you guys wanna get out of here and have a little fun I'll get someone to take Benny home." Tiia looks across the way at the table where Benny is telling some animated story. "Or he can sleep on the couch at me and Frankie's house. We'll drop him off before we go to the hotel."

Santiago shakes his head. "I'm not stepping out on your wedding, and I'm sorry for the behavior earlier. It's not the right time or place."

"You two are a match. She said the same thing when she came over. I'm not mad, I'm happy you're happy." Tiia stands and walks around the table to stand before Santiago. She lays a hand on his cheek before giving it a hard pat. "Problema."

"Un poco."

"Oh no you're big trouble, not little trouble." She says and shoves his head back playfully. "Go, make my girl happy."

Santiago smiles and kisses her forehead. "You heard the lady." He offers his hand to you. "Can I take you home?"

"One more dance?"

"I think I can manage that."

You follow Santiago out onto the dancefloor, hand in his as he lays his other on your waist. A slow song comes on, one you've heard a few times on the radio but never paid much attention to.

"I'm sorry about earlier." He says softly out of nowhere.

"I'm just as much to blame."

"I just got a little ahead of myself, like Benny said, I felt like a horny teenager."

You giggle and lean your head on his shoulder. "It's been a while, and we built this tension to a boiling point. We were bound to snap someday."

Santiago runs his hand up your back and cradles your neck loosely. "Have I told you how beautiful you are tonight?"

"Yes, but I don't mind hearing it again."

He drops his head to your ear and places a little kiss on the outer shell. "You'd look even more beautiful in my bedroom."

A hot flush warms your cheeks. "Santi...cool it."

"I can't help it." He grins and you hear rather than see it. "I just want to eat you up."

"We can stay a bit longer." You kiss his throat and he lets out a quiet groan that you relish in, grinning big ear to ear against his skin. "It'll do you good to wait. You'll want it more."

_____________________

The sound of a cell phone ringing rips you from a deep sleep. It's unfamiliar, not your ringtone but shrill and annoying nonetheless. The room is bright, the sun shining through the cream colored blinds and past the sheer curtains. Everything is familiar but like you had seen it in a dream, nothing was quite the same as you remember. You sit up and look around. Yes. It's the same as last night, the lighting makes things look different is all.

"Make it stop," Santiago groans from beside you.

"I don't know where it is." You pat around the blankets, trying to find the source of noise. "It's your phone."

"Fuck." He sits up and you get a full view of his strong, bare back in the bright daylight. There are a few scars, but one big one just behind his shoulder gets your attention. It looks strange, like a paint splatter of pink skin against his tan complexion.

You reach out to touch the scar, trace it curiously. What on Earth made a scar like that. "Santi?"

"Just a minute baby." He leans over and your hand falls to the bed. He comes back up with the phone in hand and swipes the screen to deny the call.

You lay back and he crawls under the covers beside you.

"Now, good morning." He grins, touching your nose and you sniffle. "I hope you're not too sore."

"Me?" You giggle, rolling to face him head on. "I'd be more worried about you."

Santiago chuckles. "Because of my knees?"

"Yeah and your back." You slide your hand over his shoulder and explore the scar with your fingertips. "What's this one from?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Mmhmm."

"A bullet." He takes your hand away and threads his fingers between yours. "A sniper when I was twenty seven. We were on a mission somewhere in the Ukraine. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and boom." He chuckles softly. "It went straight through. I suppose I'm lucky, they were clearly aiming for something more vital and missed."

You play with his fingers and he watches. What do you say? Sorry? Wow? You know Santiago and the guys are ex military special forces. You know they all have their scars and close call stories. You've heard the others tell them over and over but Santiago...he has always been quiet.

"It's a lot to take in." He murmurs, bringing your knuckles up to kiss.

You laugh softly, more to yourself than anything. "I broke my leg falling out of a tree once."

Santiago chuckles. "Bet that hurt." He kisses your knuckles again and lets his lips linger. "It's okay if you're not sure how to respond."

"Thank you," you mutter sheepishly.

His phone starts ringing again and he sighs. He rolls over and grabs it, bringing it back to lay between the two of you. "It's Frankie."

"Answer it."

"Should I? You don't mind?"

You shake your head. "He might need you."

Santiago swipes to answer and presses the phone to his ear. "Buenos dias pendejo."

You smile and he gives you a cheeky grin. That's a little bit of Spanish you do know. "Be nice."

He mouths a quick, 'No' before speaking again. "Why are you calling me after your wedding night? Shouldn't you and Tiia be sleeping? I didn't give you that money to wake me up at the crack of dawn when you're meant to be boarding a plane to Hawaii for your honeymoon in a few hours."

"Hawaii sounds good." You snuggle down into the blankets, imagining the warm sun on your body.

"Yes she's fine." Santiago chuckles softly. "Did you want to talk to her?"

You raise your eyebrows and he gives you a wink.

"Here you go." He passes you the phone and you press it to your ear.

"Hello?"

"Did that dick make you stupid?" Tiia asks through a laugh.

"Shut up!" You laugh, rolling over onto your back. Santiago's arm snakes across your waist and he pulls you close, face in your shoulder. "I'll hang up on you."

"Really though, did you guys have a good night? I just wanted Frankie to call and make sure you got home okay."

"Yes, we got home okay. It was a good night."

Santiago hums against your skin, biting playfully at your jaw. "It could be a better morning."

"Which one of you said I love you first?"

"Tiia."

"I know it happened."

"Goodbye Tiia, I'm hanging up now."

"Oh you-"

You toss the phone into the pillows and close your eyes. Santiago lazily kisses your neck, his short beard giving you a bit of a burn on your shoulder.

"It was me." He whispers between kisses.

"Hmm?"

"I said it first."

"You could hear her?" You shift around and lay so you're face to face agan.

He nods. “Do you remember?"

"Mmm. You said I love you, mallma?"

He presses a kiss to your lips. "It's mi alma. Do you want to know what that means?"

"Yes."

"It means, my soul." He runs a hand through your hair and brings you close for another kiss. "It's a pet name for someone you really care deeply for."

You grip his back and press your forehead to his. You give a sheepish smile. "How do you say I love you again?"

"Te amo."

"Te amo, Santiago."

He grins and chuckles softly. "We'll work on the accent."

"Good thing I have the best teacher."

"Yes you do."

"Until then," You tuck your face into his neck and he threads a hand in your hair. "I love you."

"I love you too."

End

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Header by delicate-venus 

Dedication: To delicate-venus, because you let me write your dream wedding for you with your dream man as inspiration for this fic. 

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*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted works.*****

[cocomaxley]

Kinky Cards - CGW Edition Part 2 - Rashad x Genevieve

This is a part of a TRR A/U called Cordonians Gone Wild, a collaborative effort by @ao719 @speedyoperarascalparty @leelee10898 and yours truly. Catch up HERE.

Summary: Kinky Cards rides again, this time the CGW squad tries their hand again!

Kinky Cards Part 2 introduction post HERE

Rating: NSFW

Tag List: @hopefulmoonobject @fullbeaumonty @brightpinkpeppercorn @katurrade @krsnlove @alj4890 @zaffrenotes @annekebbphotography @carabeth @moneyfordiamonds @give-me-ernest-sinclaire @3pawandme @indiacater @ooo-barff-ooo @ownworldresident @tornbetween2loves @perfectprofessorherokid @stopforamoment @editboutique @wannabemc2 @enmchoices @lauradowning29 @lodberg @smalltalk88 @gibbles82 @heatherfilliez

Genevieve was standing in her closet deciding on what to wear. Her phone chirped, she picked it up and saw a message from Rashad, I’ll be in back to back meetings all day. See you at dinner. Love you.

She had taken the day off of work and hoped they would be able to eat lunch together. Feeling slightly disappointed, she started responding to the text when she got an idea. “Seems like a good day to use Kinky Card number two…” She said to herself. She stripped off her bra and panties and walked to her dresser, picking out matching black lace bra, thong, garter belt, and thigh highs. She slipped on a pair of black heels and grabbed her tan knee length trench coat from a hanger.

After she threw on the jacket, Genevieve walked the familiar route to Rashad’s study. She knocked on the door and poked her head in. His face immediately broke out into a smile. He pushed the mute button on his desk phone and waved her in. “This is a lovely surprise. What are you up to?” Smiling mischievously, she sauntered over to him and sat on his lap, “Well I had the day off and was hoping we could spend some time together. So, I thought I’d join you for some of your meetings today. Quietly, of course.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t want to listen to these conference calls. I would never subject you to that,” he replied, kissing her cheek. “Rashad, it sounds like we have some follow ups that need to be completed before our next checkpoint call. I’ll have my assistant email the meeting minutes and we can touch base next week.” Genevieve recognized his business partner’s voice on the other end of the line. He unmuted the phone, “Sounds good, William. We’ll talk soon. Bye.” He disconnected the call shortly after.

She leaned down and softly kissed his lips, he immediately deepened it. The laptop on his desk started to ding, indicating another meeting was about to start. “I have about 5 minutes before I need to log onto this video call, Gen. I’m sorry.” With her still in his lap, he took one hand and moved the mouse on his computer. He was about to click the start button on the web conference when she slipped the card out of her pocket and placed it on the desk in front of him. His eyes widened with shock, “Oh sweetie, not today. I’m going to be live with Liam and other nobles.”

“That’s too bad, honey. I don’t think you have much choice.” She stood up and slowly unbuttoned the trench coat. Once he saw what she was wearing underneath, he swallowed hard and couldn't talk. She dropped the jacket on the floor, walked over to him and sat back down on his lap. In a seductive tone, she whispered in his ear, “Now, what was I saying? Oh that's right, your only job is to concentrate, my love. I'll do everything else.” She leaned down and kissed his neck, just below his ear. He closed his eyes completely lost in the feeling of her lips directly on the spot that drove him crazy. His phone and computer both rang and chimed, which fell on deaf ears.

“Shit, Gen. I have to get on this call.” She stood up facing him, bent down and kissed him hard, while palming his already hard cock through his pants. She knelt down between his legs, popped the button and lowered the zipper on his pants. He lifted his hips slightly from the chair allowing her to pull his pants and boxers down. “Don't worry, no one will know that I'm here.”

“This is a horrible idea,” he said making her giggle. He clicked the start button on the video chat link. The screen was full of nobles’ faces in individual boxes. Liam’s face right in the center of the screen. “Ah, Rashad, there you are. I was afraid you weren't going to make it,” Liam said. “I'm sorry, your majesty, I had an unscheduled meeting that required my, um, immediate attention.” Genevieve looked up from between his legs and smiled. She stroked his hard length with her hand before swirling her tongue around his tip. He cursed under his breath as she lowered her head, taking his long length into her mouth. She bobbed her head up and down on his cock, causing him to groan.

Liam started with a summary and agenda for the meeting. One of the topics for discussion was how to increase tourism, which Rashad was leading. He prayed that Liam would pick a different topic to kick off the meeting. Liam cleared his throat and started talking, “Let's start with the animal sanctuary, Lord Beaumont.”

“Oh thank you, Jesus,” Rashad whispered. “What was that, Rashad?” Liam inquired. “Nothing, I'm eager to what hear what Maxwell…” he closed his eyes, unable to complete his sentence as she moved her mouth from his shaft to his sack. Her hand continued to stroke his length, every once in a while increasing speed in her movements, bringing him close to the edge and then stopping.

As Liam continued, he noticed Rashad’s shallow breathing and flushed face. Liam addressed him, “Rashad, are you alright?” Rashad cleared his throat, his voice an octave higher than normal, "I'm fine, Liam. Could you repeat the, uh, the question?" Liam gave a curious look as he stared at the screen. He knew something was off, he just couldn’t pinpoint what it was. “I was saying that-“ Just then Rashad cleared his throat, his hand rubbing over his forehead as he looked down, and Liam quirked a brow. Then, it dawned on him and a smirk played across his lips as he tried stifling a laugh. “I was saying that we’ve got a lot to discuss in this meeting, so it may go longer than normal. Is that going to be an issue?”

“Oh shit that's good...no, I mean no. It won't be a prob-problem," he stammered as his voice cracked. Liam covered his mouth trying his best not to let the laugh that was building in his chest come out. “Good, I’m glad. I really need your input on these matters. So I need your full undivided attention. Now, Maxwell, please go ahead.”

Maxwell eagerly started talking, "Well, I'm very happy to announce that we've finally reached an agreement with our friends in China. Next week, we will be welcoming our brand new baby pandas over at the sanctuary." Liam replied, "That's great news, Maxwell! Are there any events you have planned that the crown can help with?"

Genevieve stopped pleasuring him and made eye contact. She whispered with a smile, “Baby pandas!” Maxwell looked at Rashad’s image on his computer monitor and saw him looking down towards his lap. Maxwell cocked his head at the screen and asked, "Uuuuh, Rashad? Freaking Pandas, bro. Are you even listening?!" Rashad looked up as a bead of sweat dripped down his forehead, "Uh right. Pandas. Awesome. Oh my god!” Genevieve had resumed licking his stiff cock, the sensation taking him by surprise. He managed to finish his thought, “Great job, Maxwell. Ohhh. Really good.” Maxwell stared at the screen confused.

Liam cleared his throat catching Maxwell’s attention. His head snapped back to Liam, "Events! Yes! My wife and I were planning a fundraising gala tomorrow night to help with the cost of the new habitat as well as the actual shipment of the cubs to Cordonia. The queen has graciously allowed us to hold the event in Valtoria so any support from the crown and council would be appreciated." Liam smirked, "I'm sure you'll have Domvallier's support as well, right Rashad?"

Rashad gripped the desk tightly with both hands, "Right. Absolutely. Next topic please." Maxwell chimed in, "Actually, Liam. If I may, I'd like to take this time to mention that the pandas are not only a big deal for the sanctuary, but they may also be able to help with our tourism boost initiative, right, Rashad?"

"Yes, Maxwell. That's correct. Please stop talking to me,” he replied trying his hardest to form coherent sentences. Maxwell’s face fell, looking hurt. Genevieve stopped again and glared at him. Shaking his head, Rashad said, “I'm sorry, Maxwell. I didn't mean that.” That earned a smile from him, “It’s alright, buddy. Don't worry.”

“The next topic I’d like to bring up is increasing tourism. Rashad, you have had some really good ideas about this in the past. So if you wouldn’t mind, can you share with the others and bring them up to speed.” Rashad looked towards the webcam, trying to keep his facial expression even. “Liam, perhaps Mr. Walker would like to go next,” he held his breath to keep from moaning. His right hand moved to the back of her head grasping a fist full of her long black hair. “He...he...fuu…he had an idea about charter fishing trips. Drake, for the love of god, go ahead.”

Drake’s face lit up, “Yeah, so charter fishing is a really great untapped resource. I mean, who doesn't love to fish, right? And did you know that the waters around Cordonia are so much cleaner than surrounding areas? The current seems to pull the polluted water away from our bays. Cleaner water means cleaner fish plus....”

Rashad let out a sigh of relief, enjoying his girlfriend’s mouth wrapped around his cock. All of a sudden, Liam interjected, “Excuse me, Drake. Rashad, you and Drake have both fished in Portavira before. Would you agree that Cordonia’s bays are pretty clean?” Rashad grumbled under his breath, "Yep. Sure are." Drake looked affronted as he replied, "Of course they are clean. I just said they're clean. Whoa...Rashad...buddy, you okay?"

Liam asked a follow up question directed at Rashad, “How much cleaner? Because Portavira is known for their crystal clear waters.” Drake started to respond, but Liam cut him off, “I'd like Rashad’s opinion please, Drake.” He couldn't hide the irritation in his voice, “Liam, I really think I am capable of speaking about the water clarity…” Hoping to divert the attention away from him, Rashad agreed, "Drake is the...he's the expert, Liam. Let him...oh...let him answer. Sweet Jesus."

“Rashad, seriously, you don't look so good. You look like your about to…” Drake stopped talking once he realized what was happening. Rashad tapped Genevieve’s shoulder hoping she'd slow down, but she ignored him and kept bobbing her head up and down. Liam argued, “Well I like having the opinions of people who aren’t experts, to see how well our experts do at passing along their knowledge.”

"They're pretty damn clear, Liam!" Rashad said, pounding his fist on the desk. Liam chuckled, “No need to get hostile, Rashad. Are you sure you’re feeling alright? You seem awfully....tense.” Rashad glared at him but nodded his head, "Mmhmm. I'm fine. Let's just keep this meeting moving. Please."

“Sure thing,” Liam snorted. Pam came into view behind Drake, “What's wrong with Rashad?” Rashad covered his beet red face with his hands. “Oh my God!” Pam gasped, her hand over her mouth. Rashad didn't think he could handle anymore teasing from both his girlfriend and friends. "Hey, I gotta drop off the call, Liam. I'll call you later and catch up...oohhhh.”

Liam looked at Rashad's image on his computer screen and coughed to cover up the laugh that escaped his throat, “Drake, it sounds like you have a good plan in place. Thank you. Rashad, we’re almost done. Just hang on for a little bit longer. Let's talk about your idea. I know how excited you are to present this to the group.”

Rashad tried his best to regain his composure, "Right. Ahem, one thing to consider would be...oh god...the, um, golf course on Cormery Isle. If..." Rashad bit the inside of his cheek and took a deep breath. Genevieve grasped his cock in her hand and pumped him as her tongue continued to stroke and lick his swollen tip. He tried his best to continue, "excuse me...if Lord Neville and his family could talk to the PGA and have an exhibitionnnn. Lord Neville, why don't you continue." He dropped his fist and it fell with a thump on top of the desk. His head fell forward when Genevieve let out a quiet moan which sent a vibration through him.

Liam tried to gather himself as he rubbed his hand over his mouth to hide his laugh. “Actually, Rashad. Since you’ve held these types of exhibitions before in Domvallier and have the experience needed to make it a success, I think that it would be better for you and Neville to do this one together. What do you say?”

"Yes! God, yes! Ooohhh..." He closed his eyes, and his head fell back as he found his release, spilling himself into her mouth. Genevieve swallowed everything and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She looked up and smiled at him, holding back a giggle as the look on his face went from relaxed to sheer horror. The realization of what just happened dawned on him. He looked at the screen and saw Liam's grin grow bigger and bigger before he burst out laughing. “Hey, Gen! Hope you enjoyed the meeting,” Leo snorted. Genevieve covered her mouth, barely able to contain her laughter.

“Lord Rashad, make sure to get your golf shorts ready for the exhibition. It'll showcase your legs. Well, my Lords and Ladies, that's all I have for today. Let's follow up in a couple of weeks,” Liam said through his laughter before ending the video chat.

Rashad closed his laptop and pulled Genevieve up from underneath the desk. She stood in front of him, his hands gripping her waist. He chuckled as he said, “You enjoyed making me squirm way too much, Gen.” She leaned down and kissed him, “It seemed like you enjoyed yourself.”

He dialed a number on his desk phone and spoke to his assistant, “Please cancel the rest of my meetings for today. I have something urgent that needs to be addressed. It's going to take the rest of the afternoon to resolve it.” He hung up the phone and turned his attention back to her.

He stood up and pushed her back against the desk. He kicked of his shoes, his pants and boxers quickly followed. She removed his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it off of his shoulders. Then she pulled his undershirt over his head adding it to the pile of clothing on the floor. “Turn around, sweetheart,” he commanded. He pushed the items on his desk out of her way as she turned her body and bent over his desk. She felt his hands caress her ass, before settling between her legs. His fingers stroked her through her lace thong. “You're so wet, Gen,” he said in a low tone before he pulled her thong down her legs. He kissed the backs of her thighs, his hands going back to her throbbing core. His fingers stroked her slit. “Oh, Rashad,” she moaned. His cock hardened and he pumped himself a few times before he teased her wet entrance. “Please, Rashad. I need you,” she whimpered. He thrust into her slowly, enjoying the feeling of her around him. He gripped her hips and set a steady pace plunging into her over and over again. Sensing she was close, he brought his hand around and traced tight circles around her sensitive nub. “Oh god! Don't stop!” She cried out. She quickly came undone as waves of pleasure coursed through her body. Feeling her walls flutter and clench around him, he found his own release spilling inside her. He leaned over her and kissed her shoulders while trying to catch his breath.

Just then, his cell phone rang. He saw Liam's name flash across the screen and groaned, “Dammit, he's calling to give me shit.” He answered the call, “What can I do for you, Liam?” She could hear Liam laughing on the other end. “Do you even realize what you agreed to in that meeting?” Rashad's eyes went wide, “What fresh hell did I sign up for? You know damn well I wasn't paying attention.” This made Liam laugh even harder, “You agreed to help Neville set up a PGA exhibition at Cormery Isle.” Genevieve could no longer hold back and doubled over into a fit of giggles. He quirked his brow at her, “Oh you think this is funny? You have to come with me and play hostess alongside Neville's mother.” She immediately stopped laughing as her mouth fell open, which made Rashad chuckle. By then Liam had lost all control. He was laughing so hard that he dropped his phone and the call disconnected.

He turned to her, “Next time we pick the card together. All of the nobles think I'm either crazy or dying.” She laughed, “Oh I don't know. I like seeing my cool and calm boyfriend lose control.” She ran her hands up his chest, then wrapped her arms around his neck. She pulled him into a heated kiss. “Now I believe you said it would take all afternoon to ‘resolve’ this issue…” She pulled him by the arm towards the sofa.

[thedarkenedkeeper]

So this is what REAL fear feels like...

Welp...I never thought I'd say this but Anti has actually broken me. This - ALL of this - has been SO MUCH WORSE than the Antipocalypse! Why? I'll tell you why!

In October, a lot of us were all over the place about whether or not Anti would show up. There were one or two asks for Jack that even questioned if he'd bring Anti back out for Halloween, and he kept his answer vague yet seemed to hint that there was a possibility Anti wasn't going to show up. On the 29th and 30th he posted pictures of himself dressed all dapper, and immediately everyone thought we were getting a new ego or something. Come Halloween, we got a fantastic old silent movie-themed pumpkin carving video. But out of nowhere, who decided to show up? Anti! Even though we had been led to believe that he most likely wasn't going to show up.

Now it's December and there were videos like Heartbound and the DDLC videos that had us freaking out about Anti showing up for close to Christmas. However, Jack's answer to both an ask and a question from a stream strongly suggested that Anti wasn't going to show up again; he only brought Anti back for DDLC only and was going to wait a couple of months until the next big thing. A majority of us believed this, including me, and let our guard down. And while I do believe a good chunk of it was probably the truth, he never did say WHEN exactly the break from Anti would start. Just like with October, he TRICKED US. And he did it in the WORST way imaginable.

When he said there was going to be something "special" in between both streams, he wasn't fucking kidding. We've watching security camera footage for HOURS. The goddamn thing is STILL going! I don't know how long any of you guys stood up for or anything, but I stayed up for about 9 hours and 45 minutes straight, watching those damn cameras. I stayed up from 8:15 P.M. all the way until 6 in the fucking morning watching and waiting anxiously. And what's worse? Even when I eventually did go to sleep, I COULDN'T. I got a total of 3 hours of sleep and you can bet your ass I was tossing and turning with paranoia.

This entire thing has REALLY driven us all insane! Given how the stream is LIVE, Anti is literally giving us no choice but to actually give him our undivided attention. We're losing sleep and sanity because of him. We're losing sleep and sanity FOR him. If this isn't proof that we're not in control and that we're his braindead puppets, I don't know what is.

And the worst thing out of all of this - for me, anyway? It's not just how we were tricked - it's not just how he's proved how obsessed we are or how sleep deprived and insane we're becoming. No....in my case, it's that for the first time EVER, I am actually 100% AFRAID of Anti.

I mean, I'm not going to lie, August 3rd - the Kill Jack video - scared me. I was SO SHOOK after that video that to this day I can't watch it without getting triggered. I wasn't expecting a rage-consumed Anti, nor was I expecting him to call us out on the GB name or flat out threaten us. That being said, when I say it scared me, I don't mean it ACTUALLY scared me. I know Anti's not actually real, I know it's just Jack pretending and just acting oit as the character. I can laugh off my fear afterwards and go "Oh my God, wow, that was amazing!" But last night....this whole fucking stream....this is SO much different. This time it's actual FEAR I'm feeling.

I watch a bunch of horror movies and the ones that always - ALWAYS - get to me the worst are the found-footage ones, like Paranormal Activity. I believe in ghosts, I believe in that kind of shit that you can't see, and I have a wild imagination. So when I watch those movies, I tend to get too absorbed into them and my brain tries to convince me I'm watching real paranormal footage, and I end uo getting so scared to the point it's not fun. I can't laugh my fear off and I end up being paranoid and on edge for quite a while. This is EXACTLY what happened with me last night.

I was doing alright for a majority of it. Sure, there were things here and there that were sudden or strange, but nothing too creepy to send me reeling. But I'd been watching for hours - at night, no less - and I swear my eyes were starting to play tricks on me. And then for about 3 hours straight, there was silence. I ended up relocating up to my room, got in bed, and my lights were off, while I continued to watch. It was around 4 A.M. at this point and I was starting to drift asleep when the sound of static jolted me awake. I scanned through the cameras with wide eyes and what did I see? The damn emergency exit glitch to show someone crawling up the fucking dark stairwell. And in that moment, I felt fear and I mean TRUE fear. I HATE shit like that - human-like beings crawling or walking up and down stairs or hallways in unnatural creepy ways scare me in the worst ways possible (it's why The Grudge scares me so badly). All night, that damn emergency exit screamed nothing but bad news to me and my anxiety was going through the roof about the idea of something crawling up the stairs. And sure enough, my fear came true.

And when I say "true fear", I mean I wasn't laughing. This wasn't something I could laugh off, not anymore. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, I felt my blood run cold, my heart rate skyrocketed, my breathing became ragged - I felt like a child who was TERRIFIED of the boogeyman coming to get her. And it was in that moment that I realized I had actually come to a breaking point, that I HAD to stop watching because I had actually reached the point of getting TOO absorbed into it all and getting scared FOR REAL. I'm not kidding when I say I actually started tearing up and shaking because of how scared I got. Even the glitch that followed afterwards gave me a heart attack - hell, I was on edge that I barely even processed what I saw; my brain pretty much tricked me into seeing some lanky, abnormal figure oddly moving through the one hallway, and I knew then that I was DONE. I immediately shut everything down and tried to get to sleep, but that footage - it felt too real for me. I genuinely felt like I was witnessing real paranormal shit, and I was SCARED. I fucking cried because of it.

Anti's scared me before but never until last night has he actually made me experience full-blown FEAR. No laughing it off nervous, no "oh my god, that's cool! I wonder how they did that!", no "this isn't real". No, there was none of that. I sacrificed 9 hours and 45 minutes of my time to be driven so sleep deprived and insane that it got to the point genuine FEAR sank in. THAT is the effect Anti has had on me and holy FUCK, I can't even believe it.

I will say this: although I am tired and went through an emotional breakdown, I have to say this has been a lot of fun - about as much fun as the Antipocalypse, what with bringing the whole community together. I also have to saw that holy fuck, props to Jack and the crew for putting this whole thing together. Yeah, it took a HUGE toll on me last night, but that just goes to show that they've done a good job. After all, Jack himself said he wanted Anti to be taken seriously, not seen as a joke, and actually make him scary. Well, he's DEFINITELY succeeded in doing so.

PS Don't worry about me, I'm fine now. It's bright outside and I'm going to be out all day so no emotional trauma for the day; I'll get a good long break :)

PSS I saw a few posts in regards to there being a possibility of the stream continuing for another day or so. I swear to god...I barely even survived last night. I ACTUALLY reached a breaking point! I don't think I could survive another night or so of that again!

[theyoongoboongo]

One Letter

Scenario: I have the first letter of your name on my wrist, but do you know how many names begin with “S”?

Pairing: Jin + Reader

Genre: Fluff + Soulmate AU (in which you only have the first letter of your soulmate’s name tattooed on your wrist)

Words: 3,027

A/N: Continuing with the soulmates. I hope you enjoy it ♡

◇ Masterlist ◇

cr.

First it was Sungmin. You met him in elementary school and thought he was the cutest boy in the second grade. All of the girls in your class were jealous when they saw you two holding hands on the playground during recess. You didn’t care.

Sungmin switched schools halfway through the year after his father was promoted and had to move to a different city. You cried for two days.

Then came along Soohyun. You didn’t meet him until the summer before high school. You were on vacation at a resort when he approached you while you were exploring the area. It was a fun little fling that barely lasted the whole summer. Your parents caught you sneaking out of your hotel room to meet up with him, so they grounded you.

At one point, it was the foreign exchange student, Sebastian. During your third year of high school, he was your chemistry lab partner. You thought he was cute, especially when he smiled and showed off his one and only dimple.

He was your first serious relationship, which is why it hurt you the most when he had to go back home. He promised to keep in contact with you, but the promise was immediately broken as soon as he landed back in his country. You saw his latest Instagram post with a new girl and regretted ever having feelings for him.

You didn’t know what it felt like to find your soulmate, so you dated any guy who showed interest in you — so long as their name began with the letter “S”. Each relationship ended in disappointment and another name crossed off your list.

You had come to the conclusion that the universe liked to see humans scramble around without a clue on how to find their soulmates. That’s why you are born with only one letter tattooed on your wrist.

Every morning, you would wake up and stare at the letter. You so desperately wanted to find your soulmate, but you knew it wouldn’t happen that easily. You just had to keep in mind that you would find him someday, just not as soon as you hoped.

You went about your life while pushing away any thought of soulmates. If you were to get through all those years of school, your undivided attention had to remain solely on your studies. If you couldn’t find your soulmate, you wanted to at least get your degree.

By the time you went off to college, your head was set on one thing and one thing only — being able to work for your dream magazine. This was something you had been wanting to do since you held your first camera when you were 6 years old.

However, during your years at college, that was when you met another boy named Seokmin. He had the kindest eyes and the warmest heart. You thought he was the one. You thought he was your soulmate.

You two dated for three years before you found out he was cheating on you with his actual soulmate. He said he was too afraid to breakup with you because he didn’t want to hurt your feelings. Typical Seokmin. You knew his extreme kindness would end up hurting someone, except you didn’t think that person would be you.

After that ordeal, you wore bracelets to cover up the “S”. You wanted nothing to do with it.

A few months after graduation, you moved to Seoul to pursue your career as a magazine photographer. Luckily for you, your internships during college landed you a position at one of the local business to help you build your portfolio.

Each day was full of photo sessions and endless hours editing each picture. Sometimes, you would wake up on the couch in your office as one of your coworkers handed you coffee and a bagel. Needless to say, you rarely slept at your apartment.

When you were finally able to submit your dream job application, you felt like crying. You just wanted to know if you were accepted or not. Your portfolio was jam-packed with every single picture you took for your clients. You wanted this more than anything.

Two weeks after the submission, you were sitting at your desk when you got an email. It was about your application. As soon as you read that they were offering you an interview, you screamed. Your coworkers rushed over to find out what happened, and when they read the email, they were screaming with you.

All of those days you spent working on your portfolio had led to that moment, and you were not planning on giving it up for anything.

After a year and a half of working at that small business, you had to say goodbye.

~

Your interview went as smooth as possible, and the editor absolutely loved your work. The interviewer told you about what you would be doing and where. You soaked in each bit of information and it made you even more excited than you already were. She said your first day on the job would be the following week. The period of time you had before then was for you to set up your new studio that the company provided.

You called your parents that night to tell them about your new job. Your mother started crying as she repeated how proud she was while your father just laughed at her. Before the call ended, you made them promise to visit you so they could have their own photoshoot. They, of course, agreed.

The next day, you met the stylist and makeup artist who would be working with you during shoots. Luna had been the stylist for the magazine for 10 years, and Jisoo had only been there for a few years. They were very friendly and helped you put up your equipment while you got to know them. You knew you would love it there.

~

“Y/N!” Luna ran into your studio, completely out of breath.

You were editing pictures from the latest shoot so you could submit them later that day. You watched her as she made her way to your corner desk, her smile never faltering.

“What’s with that look?” You asked.

“Chen was on his way to give you a new assignment, but I was already coming here so he gave it to me.” She placed a folder full of papers on your desk. “I may have peeked at who it is.”

You opened the folder and scanned the papers for a name.

“Jin,” you said and looked up at Luna. “The actor?”

She nodded while jumping with excitement. “He’s coming here! I’m going to be styling the Jin!”

You looked back at the documents to see what the shoot was for. He was the magazine’s hottest man of the year.

You shot up from your chair, nearly losing balance. “Hottest man of the year?”

“Yes!” Luna shouted. “This shoot is one of the biggest we have, and you’re the one in charge of it this year!”

You had only been working at the magazine for almost a year, and there were so many other more experienced photographers. So what made them choose you?

“This is amazing,” you finally said, still stunned from the news. You noticed the date at the top of the page. “He’s coming next week.”

“Oh, shit I didn’t read that part.” She moved next to you to go over the other pages in your hand. “Give me the page with his measurements. I need to start planning his outfits and get them approved by Chen.”

You located the page and handed it to her, and she bolted out of the room. You shook your head and laughed at your coworker. Hopefully she’ll be more composed when Jin arrives.

The week leading up to the shoot went by way too quickly for your liking. You were nervous beyond words and you couldn’t help but think about how badly everything could go. Jin was one of the best, if not the best, actor of all time. One fatal mistake could cause you to lose your job.

The minutes ticked by and you paced your studio while Luna and Jisoo waited patiently at their stations. Jisoo was twirling a brush between her fingers, a nervous habit of hers that you picked up on. Luna was rearranging the rack of clothes, trying to figure out any last-minute changes.

Your phone began to ring, making the three of you jump.

“Hello?” You answered.

“Y/N, Jin and his team are on their way,” Chen announced. Your boss’s tone wasn’t too firm, meaning he trusted you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself. “Have fun.”

“Thank you.” You hung up.

Not even three minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Luna and Jisoo stood together near the entrance as you rushed to open the door.

A man, who you assumed to be Jin’s manager, entered followed shortly by a petite woman with a notepad and then finally Jin.

You politely greeted them, and when you turned to Jin, your heart stopped. He was the handsomest man you had ever seen. His eyes were sweet and his smile made you feel warm inside.

“Y/N, right?” He asked.

It took you a second to remember your name. “Y-yes. It’s very nice to meet you.”

He smiled once more before greeting Luna and Jisoo, who were utterly starstruck.

“Ms. Y/N,” Jin’s manager said. “I will be leaving to meet the person in charge of Jin’s interview. I will be back by the end of the shoot. I trust you to not do anything against his wishes.”

“I am nothing but professional, sir,” you assured. “That’s why I was given this job.”

He showed a quick smile before leaving with the woman. As soon as the door was shut, Jin let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m glad he left,” he said. “He makes me nervous sometimes.”

“You have nothing to worry about with us,” Luna beamed. “Y/N loves to have fun during her shoots to make the clients feel more comfortable.”

“Oh, I don’t do anything too special,” you waved off the compliment. “Tense people are hard to take pictures of.”

“She’s so good at her job that she refuses to take a compliment,” Jisoo commented.

You shot her a playful look. “Okay now. You two get him ready before we end up having an overnight shoot.”

Luna helped Jin change into his first outfit, and then Jisoo worked her makeup magic. When he stepped onto your backdrop, you had to keep your jaw from dropping. He looked like a prince.

He laughed when he noticed your reaction. “I look good, don’t I?”

“Well, I mean you are the hottest man of the year for a reason,” you noted. “Are you ready to start?”

He adjusted his suit collar before getting into a relaxed stance and nodding. For a half hour, you adjusted his positions and had him do different facial expressions for the pictures. Flash after flash, Jin would switch from serious poses to funny ones to make you laugh.

“I think it’s about time for an outfit change,” you decided.

“Maybe we could also take a lunch break,” Jin suggested. Luna and Jisoo immediately agreed with him.

You told the two to go to the local market to get something quick so you could finish up the rest of the shoot. After they left, you took a seat at the small table while Jin opted to explore your studio.

“Have you ever had your own photoshoot?” He questioned as he looked toward your sitting figure.

“No, I’d rather stay behind the camera,” you explained. “It’s much more fun being the creator.” “But you’re too beautiful to not be in front of it.”

You were rendered speechless by his bold comment. You couldn’t tell if he was flirting with you, or if it was just part of his personality. Either way, it still made you blush like crazy.

While you tried to find the words to reply back to him, he took off the suit jacket and rolled his shirtsleeves up. He then took a seat in front of you and folded his hands on the table.

“What made you want to become a photographer?” He changed the subject.

“Well, I had always been fascinated by the art, thanks to my grandpa,” you began. “Ever since then, I worked hard to realize my dream of working here.”

“I bet your parents are proud.”

“Of course they are, but they’re proud of me no matter what as long as I’m happy,” you smiled. “What about you?”

He leaned back in the chair before speaking, “I didn’t think about acting until my teen years. I auditioned for a role, was chosen, changed my name and here I am.”

You met his eyes in surprise. “Changed your name?”

“Well, not exactly,” he chuckled. “I just shortened it.”

“What’s your real name?” You pondered.

“Seokjin. Kim Seokjin is my full name, but I decided to go by just Jin,” he responded. “Maybe that’s why I haven’t been able to find my soulmate. They might be looking for a completely different person.”

He looked down at his wrist. When he turned it to view the letter, you saw what it was. It was the first letter of your name. You softly grabbed your bracelet-covered wrist, remembering that an “S” is tattooed there.

Maybe he’s my soulmate, you thought.

Just then, Luna and Jisoo entered the studio with a few bags full of food for the group. The conversation that occurred between you and Jin was forgotten.

After you all ate, Jin changed into a different outfit and Jisoo touched up his makeup. You were going through the photos from earlier until he was finished.

When he stood in front of you, you asked him if he was ready and he nodded.

“Let’s finish this up now.”

Two more outfit changes and hundreds of pictures later, the shoot was finally done. You could tell that Jin was tired, but you knew he still had an interview to do.

“Thanks for everything today,” he said to you and your team. “I had a lot more fun than I was expecting.”

“It was an honor working with you,” Jisoo beamed. “If you ever need another photoshoot, we won’t hesitate to do it.”

“I’ll take that into consideration,” he laughed. “I should be heading over to the interview now. I’m already a few minutes late as it is.”

You said your goodbyes and he was soon out of the room. You wished he didn’t have to go.

“He’s so dreamy,” Luna sighed. “I wish he was my soulmate.”

“Don’t we all?” Jisoo lightly smacked her friend’s arm as they turned to clean up their stations.

You began to tear down the backdrop and put away the stool that was used for one portion of the shoot. Then you made sure all of the photos had been uploaded to your computer before pulling the chord out from your camera. You tucked it into the side compartment of your camera bag and slid your camera into its place. You pushed the tripod out of the way, too lazy to fold it up.

“You guys can go home when you’re done,” you called out as you flopped into your cushiony desk chair.

“Are you sure?” Jisoo asked.

“Yeah, go ahead. I think I’m just going to start editing the photos already.”

“Okay. Don’t stay here too late like the last time. I don’t want to find you sleeping in a pool of your own drool on your desk again.”

You threw a pen in her direction. “Stop bringing that up! I promise I’ll go home in a few hours.”

“Good girl,” she patted your head as she and Jisoo walked by.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” you said. They waved and then left.

You clicked through the photos, getting lost in Jin’s eyes as each one passed. Then you began to think about the possibility of him actually being your soulmate. That would be absolutely unreal, but it would only make sense based on how you felt around him.

None of the guys you previously dated made you feel that way. Could it be love?

You took off your bracelets to admire the letter on your wrist. You traced it with your finger and imagined the rest of Jin’s name following it.

“I knew it.”

“Fucking hell,” you gasped, clutching your chest. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t hear Jin come into your studio.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, not trying to hide the smile on his face. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

After you gained back your composure, you stood up. “It’s fine. I just got caught up in my work.”

He pointed at your wrist. “There’s an ’S’ on there,” he noted. “Right?”

You nodded, unsure of what else to say. Does he also think you’re his soulmate?

He moved to the other side of your desk to stand next to you. He slowly reached out to take your wrist in his hand, looking at the tattoo.

Your breath was a little unsteady because of the close proximity. You were afraid he could tell that your heart was racing.

“I’ve been looking for you.” He pulled you closer to him so he could wrap his arms around you.

It took a few seconds for you to reciprocate the hug. You were stunned that out of all of the people in the world, your soulmate was right here waiting for you.

“The universe works in mysterious ways, doesn’t it?” You giggled.

When he leaned back, he gazed down at you, eyes full of happiness and a giant smile. You could only guess that you were looking at him with the same expression.

He tapped your camera bag that was perched on your desk. “I guess you can say that I’ve been picturing us together since we met.”

You rolled your eyes, but still laughed at the joke. “Shut up and kiss me already.”

[carpemermaidtales]

Hello!!! ❤ I was thinking about my favorite scenes/lines from my favorite fics and got to wondering what scenes/lines stood out to the people who wrote them. Lolol. What would you say are your top 10 favorite bits from your fics?

Ok, well I spent ENTIRELY too long doing this lmao (like an embarrassingly long amount of time, so thaaaaaanks)! *squints at you* Picking felt impossible, because I think I have favorite parts from everything I write--each of them feel like my children I’ve raised and released into the world. Not to mention, some of it I’ve just plum forgotten and I’ve had to skim through my stuff and re-discover it LOL. And then there’s stuff tied up in anon fests, and wips that aren’t even posted yet, and every time I write something new, that becomes my new favorite bit. Sometimes it’s a snappy line I’ve managed, sometimes it’s a little bit of imagery, and sometimes it’s a scene that I was most excited to write when planning the story concept.BUT BOY HOWDY, HERE WE GOOOO (cut for mermaid rambling):

1. “Don’t be so smug, Potter, it doesn’t suit you. You don’t have the bone structure for it,” Draco drawled when he’d regained his composure. (From Partners of the Four-legged Variety) // Now, there’s actually a lot of parts to this one I love, but this is one of my favorite snarky Draco lines I’ve got in my repertoire. I really enjoyed exploring Harry’s past issues with his childhood through the veil of Crup training and contrasting it with Draco’s more firm methods and Harry’s more lax ideals. I also love the beginning from this, Draco’s visitor badge when he enters the Ministry still makes me smile./2. “Hermione says I shouldn’t cast duplication spells on things I’m actually wearing, so,” Potter says absently as he lays his trousers on a desk. “We had a mishap once, when we were on the run last year.” (From It’s Joggers Season [or so the Muggles say]) // This is also a fic I somehow managed to pull a post-war emotional plot out of with the premise of Joggers, so, there’s that, too. I’m also quite fond of Harry’s first entrance at the beginning of the fic./3. I don’t have any one favorite line, but I’m pretty happy with the way the imagery turned out in when life hands you (lulu)lemons :) Especially the way the sunlight is described./4. The beginning of Harry + Draco’s date in Chapter 2 of Never Feel the Burning Light, and in particular Draco’s exasperation at Harry changing in front of him. Also the walk to WWW after the date. Also Harry and Lucius’ stand off at dinner in Chapter 3./5. The intervening years into adulthood—the stint in prison and Remus’s own ongoing battle with his personal demons—hadn’t made the all-consuming need wane in the slightest. It had taken them some time, tiptoeing around each other as they mended the scraps of their friendship, tattered and broken by a war against a madman, but then there had been Firewhisky to help smooth the way.Sirius couldn’t even remember which of them had moved first, but suddenly they’d been kissing each other roughly with just as much fierce passion as they had in those secret hiding places, their hands hungrily mapping the changes in their bodies from boys into men and fingers tugging urgently at clothes until there was nothing but the drag of their fingertips against heated skin and the faint trembling in their bodies when they sagged against each other afterwards, sated and panting. Remus’s lips had twitched with an amused, tired smile and Sirius wanted to crawl inside his body and stay there forever, his heart thudding heavily in his chest. (from By the Light of the Moon) // The thing I love most about writing Wolfstar is all the angsty, heart-panging feels for these two broken men who had to grow up way too fast, so exploring some of that threaded with a quickie for that month’s DD theme was really enjoyable./6. The kiss by the sea in Weekenders, but I also had a lot of fun creating this from the art it’s inspired by, especially Harry introducing Draco to pub games. This whole thing is an exercise in Harry introducing Draco to the Muggle world and it was a lot of fun to play around with!/7. More Draco in the Muggle world from Never Got No Good Doing What I’m Told, and all of Harry’s stalking and his convoluted ideas for what Draco’s motives are for going to the market and watching movies at the cinema./8. Keith cut Lance off before he could admit to whatever—or whomever—he thought of in his masturbatory habits by jumping on him, still sweaty and disheveled from his training, and slapping his hand over Lance’s mouth, catching Lance’s laughter in his palm.Lance smelled like citrus and coconuts—something he made himself from a planet full of lush fruits and plants they’d discovered in deep space. Keith fought hard not to lean closer and bury his nose in Lance’s neck. He was warm and soft and laughing against Keith’s hand, and Keith’s heartbeat was suddenly rocketing out of control, pounding away inside his chest.Sometimes Keith really regretted his impulsive decisions, after the fact. (from [don’t] hold my breath) // I’m also really fond of the imagery of this one, especially the descriptions of water and Keith’s dream about kissing Lance underwater. S O F T./9. “Oh, that works,” Lance said, grateful to finally have some relief from the sharp tugs of skin and awkward sleeping positions. He waited a beat before leaning close to Keith’s ear to tease him. “You should’ve just said you were down to cuddle. I love being the big spoon, you know? Or the little spoon. I’m not picky.” (from Stuck on You) // I also really adore all of Keith and Lance’s bickering in this one, and the descriptions of the Dr Seuss jungle planet in the beginning./10. Annnd for the last one I thought I’d go with something from my WIP folder, but I’m not sure whether to share an except of the magically binding New Year’s Eve promises or this Love Bug/Soulmate/Fake Dating Garrison AU (a smorgasbord of Voltron tropes), soooo both?

The Love Bug AU: Keith is like an octopus, his arms winding around Lance’s neck and latching onto him when Lance tries to squirm out of his hold.“Uh, quick question, what the fuck?” Lance asks, shooting a helpless look at Hunk.Hunk shrugs, looking just as bewildered and surprised as Lance is in that moment.All Lance can focus on—aside from, uh, everything, about Keith being all over him—is that wow, okay, Keith actually smells really nice and his hair feels soft brushing against Lance’s cheek. Keith peers up at him and Lance’s stomach swoops when their eyes meet—and, holy shit, are Keith’s eyes actually some kind of indigo? Lance thought they were just dark before, but now he sees the complex color and gulps. This was not how he pictured his night of celebration going.

The Drarry Magically Binding New Year’s Eve Promises: The magic was making his mind work in a maelstrom of thoughts, shoving desires and questions at him left and right. Will you please go out with me? Can I kiss you? Did you enjoy your date on Valentine’s? When will you leave me to get married? Harry was panting by the time he managed to get his mind under control. He realised belatedly that Draco was speaking to him in an increasingly faster and worried tone.“…something you took? Are Ron and Hermione alright? You’re starting to scare me, can you say something?” Draco’s words rushed at him in a rush of sound.Harry felt like a plug had been pulled and all of the water had drained from his ears with a swirling gurgle. He turned and clung to Draco’s arms instead of the sofa.“Water?” Harry asked, his throat scratchy and dry.Draco’s eyes darted back and forth, holding his gaze for a moment before he pulled his wand from his pocket and summoned a glass to fill with Aguamenti. Harry’s lips twitched briefly. Draco apparently didn’t want to leave his side, even for a short moment to get a proper glass of water. He took the glass with shaking hands and gulped it down in three large swallows that left him huffing for breath.“Better?” Draco asked.Harry nodded, feeling some of the magic abating when it didn’t seem like Draco was going to turn him away or turn him down immediately. He supposed just having Draco’s undivided attention was enough for the Promise for the time being. Harry sagged back against the sofa, sinking down heavily to sit on the arm. Draco hated when he did that, but he didn’t complain this time. His face was etched with worry.“Good. Now, you’re going to tell me what the fuck that was as soon as you’ve caught your breath,” Draco commanded. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest. Harry’s eyes rested on his forearms, appreciating the way they flexed.

/I wanted to include parts from our collab, too, but I think I’ve forgotten which bits you wrote and which were mine because damn did we blend it all together well hahaha! This was super fun, boo, thanks for asking!! It made me think of taking this one step further and making it into a game: list your 10 fave parts from your fics and have people send in their favorite line/scene/etc from one of the fics listed! (people, consider this carte blanche to do that with this list)Expect me to come back at you with this question in your inbox, too!

[spycethra]

Could you write something with Rhys having to save Jack from Timothy? Like Tim gets closer to hurting Jack than Rhys has ever seen between the two of them.

I will try, but I am struggling since angry-Tim muse is just… I dunno where it’s at. I think it’s rough since I’ve never actually seen fanart of Timothy just losing his shit. It’s mostly him being a creampuff or being sexually overwhelmed. Not so much the other way around where he actually has a form of wrath of his own.

But I shall endeavour to fulfill your request, Anon!

The rainfall beat down on them, discouraging Rhys in his desperation to rise from the shallow mud. The night was so dark that only the splintered veins of lightning every so often would reveal the bone chilling nightmare that was unfolding.

“TIM! TIM, STOP!”

Rhys’ voice came out hoarse. He’d been screaming for what felt like hours.

This was the first time he had seen the Lawrence brothers escalate a single disagreement to such a deadly degree. He always envisioned Jack and Timothy impossibly inseparable, yet as another crack of lightning pierced the sky, Rhys caught sight of Timothy successfully rendering the older twin unconscious before another flash revealed him dragging Jack across the wooden dock by his ruined jacket.

“TIM!”

Clawing into the stubborn earth, pushing out each exhausted breath, Rhys stubbornly hauled himself toward the dock. He wasn’t that far off, only a few more feet and he could use the clearances between planks to get there faster. The only weighing problem was that he was fatigued beyond all belief. His mind was still hazy while the muscles in his arms trembled with strain.

At some point, he wouldn’t be able to move anymore. If he stayed put, he might recover long enough to save himself… but another crackle beckoned him to look up.

Timothy already had Jack on the edge.

The winds were picking up and Rhys was sure Tim wouldn’t listen. But feeling around the unforgiving filth beneath his fingertips, he did find something that might be more along the lines of the Lawrence language.

In the meantime, Jack was straightened to sit up against one of the standing posts while Timothy hissed beneath his breath, restraining his irksome brother by his hands and feet with his usual choice of bondage - just for Jack. He pulled at them roughly, uncaring of any damage he could inflict. Tim considered getting a hammer and smashing his brother’s hands, but he felt with Rhys still being far too involved (in what Timothy considered to absolutely none of his business) that it would prove to be overkill.

He could still hear Rhys yelling something out from behind him, but he chose to ignore him. This was a Lawrence affair, and he was going to handle it as they always did.

Though Timothy did find a bruised and beaten version of his older brother a very appealing sight, there was no going back. Jack was going to have to face the severe consequences for his actions - even if those actions were merely in retaliation of his own…

“Tim, I swear, if you don’t turn around!”

The downpour was seriously starting to piss him off, as was Rhys. Taking a sharp breath past the incessant wind and cold biting rain, Timothy turned back to see Rhys having remarkably crawled his way to the end of the dock with a glinting something pointed at his neck.

“Oh… hell… Rhys!”

“D-Don’t you dare!! Come any closer and I’ll-!”

“Rhys, this isn’t-!”

“Stay there and let Jack go! I will do it, Tim!”

Darkness fell between them again, allowing Timothy a moment to think. In the brief moment he could see Rhys, he saw it. The trembling hands. The terror of actually taking his own life for nothing.

Rhys wasn’t going to hurt himself - much less end himself.

“Do what you want, kiddo!”

Strangely, a part of him relished being able to see the pure emotion that permeated every feature of Rhys’ face and body as Tim shoved Jack off the dock using his foot. It was so easy. Jack toppled right into the watery abyss. Tim was sure Rhys was waiting for Jack to resurface somewhere. Rhys didn’t even move as Timothy strolled toward him. He flexed his wrists while doing so, in case Rhys was still determined to fight back.

But everything in Rhys’ face spoke sweet defeat.

Timothy knelt down, finding his ruined expression so full of beauty. He chanced slowly peeling the knife from Rhys’ trembling fingers before kissing his sullied cheek.

“He’s not coming back up, Rhys. Besides, you’re in no shape to stick around here so…”

Scooping up his clearly traumatized doll, Timothy carried Rhys bridal style back towards the house. It was utterly sinful how desperately Tim wanted to take advantage of Rhys’ broken state then, but he knew he’d never forgive himself if he caused Rhys to be shattered forever.

So he restrained his urges while taking a breath that everything might be sorted out in the morrow…

The following morning, Rhys awoke in his room to the sun peering through a broken window pane. It didn’t click to him that it was broken at first. Instead, the reality of his world began to return to him in one fell swoop as tears formed at the corners of his eyes. He hiccuped where he was lying, preparing to sob until an arm snaked itself around his chest.

Tim.

He couldn’t believe the nerve. Even Timothy should have had the decency not to… Not right after…

“Get. OFF ME!”

The twin behind him grumbled at his yelling and thrashing about, but Rhys fought back even harder until he was effectively pinned down by his still soaked companion.

“The fuck, Rhys?! I just climbed out of that fucking lake, and this how you goddamn greet me?”

Rhys stilled aside from the rapid rise and fall of his chest while both his arms remained pinned above his head. The twin was sitting on his lap and was clearly still dripping from his hair.

“Is this some sort of sick joke, Tim? Because-”

“Oh my god. Rhys. I’m Jack.”

“Like hell you are. I watched you push him into the lake! He- Jack’s-!”

And then the waterworks came freely. Rhys didn’t care anymore. He was going to mourn Jack even if Timothy was going to try and make a sham out of it.

The one above him, however, didn’t make any cheapshot comments or even started to try and lick up his tears. No… the twin on top of him grew uncomfortably quiet as he averted his gaze.

“K-Kiddo. Seriously. I’m right here.”

“St-stop it… Okay? Just stop, Tim… Please,” Rhys begged as he continued to cry his heart out right there.

“Stop what?”

A voice from the doorway sent Rhys’ head turning to see the second twin standing there with a neatly folded towels between his hands. Immediately, his head flicked back to the Lawrence above him - who was no doubt grinning.

“Oh, cupcake.”

So in the AU, when the brothers reach “sick of your shit” level of anger, they actually kinda try to kill each other but they give the other a chance to save themselves. Jack wasn’t unconscious, he was just super out of it. Plus, Tim tied him with zipties that Jack could easily rip himself out of.

And they’ve reach this weird understanding of how this is how they get the other’s undivided attention. XD Attempted murder. But they have a deep trust to know the other won’t actually go through with it. Thus Jack isn’t even mad. He’s used to it. (Plus he’s done way worse to Tim.)

I knoooow. Rhys doesn’t actually save Jack but in a way I feel he does. Since the brothers are very well aware that if one dies, Rhys is a lost cause. And neither want to lose their adorable captive’s mind to something that petty.

Hope you enjoyed iiiit!

[deadmantalking117]

HOW TO BE A PATIENT

This is something I've written a lot about on various support sites. When you first get sick or injured .. It's likely you've had almost zero experience with our healthcare system. I've been in and out if hospitals my ENTIRE life.. litterally.. since the day I was born. As a baby.. I had rhuematic fever. Almost died. As a toddler I was hospitalized for asthma attacks twice.. I would just stop breathing. Every childhood disease.. measles... German measles.. chicken pox.. mumps... Migraines starting at 4 years old.. on an on. As a finally healthy teen.. I went to the ER twice for concussions while playing football.. and the odd fishhook to the face.. and a whole week at 13 years old to run dozens of tests for the migraines. I spent Halloween 1973.. in a hospital ward with 2 other boys.. we all got in trouble for spending the night covering the tile ceiling in spit balls! Apparently God has been priming me for this mission my whole life ! I sometimes think that "how to be a patient" should be taught in high school.. as part of health classes. There's a lot to know. Believe me when I tell you.. you don't! So here's my best tips for newbies. 1- BE A GOOD PATIENT I know you're afraid. That's completely normal. You've either just gotten very sick or injured. You're likely in pain. This sucks. But try to stay calm. Listen to what the doctors and nurses are saying to you. Ask questions. You know you have many. But don't be rude.. or treat the nurses like shit. Don't bark out commands... these people are not your servants. I've heard other people say terrible shit to nurses. These people are in charge of making you healthy.. Do you really think it's in your best interests to piss them off ? I always try to keep my sense of humor.. and I always apologize to the folks as soon as the drugs kick in. Frankly .. I whine like a little bitch when I first go in the ER. So as soon as I'm under control. The vomiting has stopped. I can catch my breath again. I say thank you and tell them how much I appreciate their care and patience. Be nice to the nurse. Make that your mantra at the hospital. It pays off 10 fold for you. Nurses take care of several people each day. Who do you think they take better care of? Cranky old man? Or charming gentleman who is suffering so badly? Nurses love me. Be nice to the nurse. It's rule #one. The add on to that is.. be nice to office staff. They can make your life much easier.. for the same reasons. They gets lots of people calling for appointments and information all day. And who do you think gets prioritized? The funny old guy who knows their names ! Over the cranky old ass who's always complaining! Be nice.. I know you're sick.. 2- BE AN INFORMED PATIENT from the very first time you get thrust into healthcare.. for whatever reason.. PAY ATTENTION ! Try to understand what's going on.. what's happening to you. You may not have much to say at first.. if you're sent to emergency surgery like I was.. you dont get time to make decisions.. you really just do what they tell you. But after you start to recover.. use that time to inform yourself. Learn as much as you can about what is happening to you. Usually it's not that hard to understand. But I've had people tell me about immediately life threatening situations with this kinda confused look on their faces. "The doctor said something about a massive cormilary.. or corbery.. something about my heart.. and I gotta go to this other guy.. so he can test something.. and I might need pills or an operation or some such" MY God! Its called a coronary.. you had a freaking heart attack! And that doesnt have your undivided attention?!! I know learning stuff is hard.. and being sick is not fun. But it's funner than being dead! Get a clue what's happening to you. Its rule #2 ! 3- BE AN INFORMATIVE PATIENT if you get sick like I did.. you might wanna make yourself a couple lists. List 1 is every symptom you think you might have. Try to be descriptive about what you're feeling. Is it a burning pain? Or stabbing? Or cramping? You may not have an immediate point of reference.. just give it your best guess. Don't leave out that burning sensation everytime you play with yourself. Tell your doctor EVERYTHING. Its important that he knows it all.. and you aren't as interesting as you think you are. He's heard this before. You have to have full disclosure here. List 2. All medications.. vitamins.. supplements.. etc. that you take . If you swallow it or put it in or on your body. Put it on the list. Also. Lots of times they need to know your typical diet. Keep track if it the week before your appointment. Be honest. If you ate at McDonald's 6 times last week.. its probably important for them to know that. I'll add a third list.. a list of all and any questions you can think of.. write them down as the questions pop up in your head. That way, at the appointment.. the doctor knows what is on your mind.. that helps a lot. So.. rule#3 here's all about me. That's the big three! Three simple rules or guidelines to make your life easier if you end up sick or injured. 1- BE NICE 2- BE INFORMED 3- BE INFORMATIVE There's probably lots of little tips for people like me who are frequent fliers. But that'll be a different post. This list is for the newbies. Every day almost.. someone does an admit request for our support sites.. they're newly diagnosed and are overwhelmed with information. It's was amazing the shear volume of information that came at me when I first got sick. Most people were blissfully ignorant about where poopy comes from.. that whole digestion trip. I knew every organ involved. Every inch. I know what villi do ! I can spell gastroenterologist without spell check. 30 years ago.. the available information was much less easy to come by. Today you have almost instant answers for any disease. Use it. Make your life easier. A little life lesson from a dead man who's still talking... PRIOR PLANNING PREVENTS POOR PERFORMANCE. Be well my friends

[bobodelrey]

i’ve been trying to fix my pride fandom: voltron legendary defender ship/rating: klance//g words: ~4k summary: Lance's soulmark showed up on his wrist when he was eight--the only problem is, he can't read it. It's in another language entirely.So the obvious answer, of course, is to get it covered with a tattoo. other tags: modern au, soulmate au, college 

also available on ao3.

Lance sticks his right arm out, wrist up. “I need you to cover this.”

The guy behind the counter—his age, likely, though it's hard to tell through the haze of his hangover—levels him with a look. A look that clearly says that he is not in the mood to deal with whatever bullshit Lance can manage to cook up.

Then he goes back to looking at his phone.

Lance clears his throat, shaking his wrist in the guy's direction. “I need you to cover this,” he repeats a little louder. “Please?”

He finally looks up, locking his phone and setting it down on the counter. He's Asian, and could easily be considered attractive if it wasn't for what he called his “hairstyle.” The sweat bands on his wrists that were popular in middle school didn't help things either.

“Fine,” he agrees, a hard edge to the word that Lance is too tired to take proper stock of. Maybe, it he hadn't spent the night before drinking and maybe, if he had eaten something before he had decided to march into the tattoo parlor closest to campus, he would have cared.

Lance nods, a single sharp jerk of his head downward, and waits. He's going to jump out of his skin if this takes any longer, nerves setting his teeth on edge, head pounding in time with his heart.

He waits for the guy behind the counter—he hasn't caught his name, yet, and Lance isn't going to ask just yet, not when it could crop up in general small talk while he's getting the mark on his wrist covered up—to say anything to him, to make a move toward the back, to ask Lance what he wants for a tattoo.

Instead, he pulls out a bandaid, opens it up, and before Lance can properly process what in the hell this guy is doing, places it directly over the mark on Lance's wrist.

“Done.”

There's a curl to the guy's mouth that Lance is pretty sure means he's pleased.

“That's not what I meant.”

The guy shrugs. “It's covered.”

Lance narrows his eyes, taking a step back from the counter. He can't exactly argue with that logic, but sticking a band aid on it isn't what he meant.

“I'll be back.” It's nearly too Terminator-esque for his tastes, but he means it. “And your mullet is horrific,” he shouts over his shoulder.

*

He was eight when the characters showed up.

He had been brushing his teeth at the time, elbowing for room at the sink between two of his sisters. He was more focused on his teeth than his wrist at the time, as most people typically are.

Halana had noticed it first, eagle eyed and nosy as she was. She had smacked her hand against the mirror, mouth full of toothpaste, excited noises making their way to her lips.

Lance had scrunched up his nose and kept brushing, because Halana did things like that too often and it wasn't like he could understand her anyway.

But it had attracted Sophia's attention, and her eyes had affixed on Lance's wrist in the mirror. She had started screaming for their mother immediately, and it had scared Lance half to death because he thought something was wrong.

Instead, his mother had sat him down and explained to him the concept of soulmates and soulmarks and everything else that had gone with the territory.

It was an incredibly traumatizing time for eight year old Lance, made worse by the fact that he couldn't read his soulmark. They were character of some sort, and even then Lance wasn't much one for linguistics.

But it was, nevertheless, the name of his soulmate. He just couldn't read it. It wasn't English, certainly, which his mother and countless other told him meant that his soulmate, whomever they were, was unlikely from America.

He was never one for covering it up, instead going with the hope that no one would notice them instead. It was rare, he was told by the expert his mother had taken him to at the age of ten, to have a name in a completely different alphabet on his wrist. Rare, but not impossible.

By the time he was twelve, he has resolved to himself a handful of things: That he was going to work for NASA, that aliens were definitely out there somewhere and whas going to find them, and that he would likely never actually meet his soulmate. Which was okay, because he was a realist and he knew that the first two would take up all of his time.

*

Lance is far more clear headed than he was the day before when he walks into the tattoo parlor, bell jingling merrily above the door.

“I need a tattoo covered,” Lance says. There's another guy behind the counter with the one from yesterday, also Asian but more imposing. The scar across the bridge of his nose, coupled with a patch of white hair, draws Lance's eyes immediately. “With ink, this time.”

His current nemesis opens his mouth, likely to retort, when the other guy chides in warning, “Keith.”

'Keith' deflates immediately, shoulder's slumping as he side eyes his co-worker for a moment before turning his attention back to Lance.

“Fine,” he says shortly. “What kind of tattoo were you thinking of getting?”

Lance's mind sputters to a stop for a moment; he had been more than prepared to fight for this, too stubborn to go to another tattoo parlor because this one, specifically, was posing a challenge. There was very little Lance loved more than a challenge.

“Just put, like, a black bar? Or an equal symbol for marriage equality or some shit? I don't care.”

“You don't care?” A beat. “You want me to cover a tattoo you already didn't want with something you don't care about?”

Keith, despite being so against giving him a tattoo in the first place, is up in arms about this. It surprises Lance for a moment before he realizes that anyone with a mullet has to have a skewed set of priorities.

“I just need it covered, dude.”

“Done,” he says, sitting back smugly while tossing the marker back under the counter.

Lance sputters for a moment, unbelieving. His mouth is wide open, and the voice in his head (Pidge calls it reason; it sounds more like Lance's mother) is telling him he's going to catch bugs with his mouth like that.

His jaw clicks shut abruptly, annoyance bubbling up in his chest. This guy is infuriating.

“I'll be back,” Lance threatens, stepping away from the counter again, intent on leaving.

“Good,” Keith snaps back. “Make an appointment.”

A handful of business cards are thrown bodily in Lance's direction on his way out—Lance manages to catch most of them, far more than he'll ever need, and is out the door in a heartbeat.

He's almost back to this dorm by the time he looks at the business cards, all of them the same:

Voltron

Keith Kogane

Something in Lance stirs when he reads the name, but he assumes it's his stomach. Lunch seems so far away.

*

Later, he relates the whole story to Pidge and Hunk over soggy pizza slices and open textbooks, marker dried over his soulmark. The two of them are his best friends, and they understand his tenuous relationship with his soulmark—Hunk has one himself, though he's already found his other half, and Pidge never got one at all.

“Why do you keep going back to the same place?” Hunk asks, flipping back in his textbook to reread a passage he only half absorbed. “I mean, wouldn't it be easier if you didn't have to deal with Mullet Man?”

“This is Lance,” Pidge says, shoving a slice of pizza in their mouth. “He's too stubborn to do anything else but stick with Plan A.”

“I am not!” Lance objects immediately, slamming his text book shut. He remembers, a half second later, that he still needed it open to a specific page, and begins to skim through it again hastily.

“Lance, your plan B if you didn't get into college was to join the circus?” Hunk reminds. “I'm not saying that's extreme, but it was a little extreme.”

Pidge, eyes wide with this new information, sets their pizza slice down and fixes all of their undivided attention on Lance. “The circus?”

“I'm a man of extremes, Pidge.”

Hunk, spotting the devious gleam in Pidge's eyes, cuts in before the situation gets so far out of hand that there's no hope of salvaging it.

“Why do you want your mark covered up anyway? There's still a chance you could meet them, buddy.” Hunk has tried this line of reasoning with his best friend before, and had doubled down on it when he met the girl whose name was on his wrist.

“What if I don't want to?”

“And by that, he means he still hasn't managed to translate the characters on his wrist, nor has bothered to try,” Pidge jibes.

Lance can't argue with that, because what they've said is true. So he steers the conversation away again, saying, “I wanted to be a lion tamer. Maybe one of those people on the high wire?”

Pidge cackles, “You'd clearly be a clown!”

*

It's another week before Lance wanders through the door of Voltron, right on time for his appointment. The interior is empty, like is has been for each of his last visits, artwork decorating the walls and not a single customer to be found.

Keith is the only one behind the counter again, lower lip tucked up behind some of his teeth as he focuses on his phone.

He still hasn't looked up by the time Lance reaches the counter, so Lance does as most post-pubescent males do—he slams his hands down on the counter top and hopes for the funniest possible reaction.

Except, Keith doesn't jump. He just looks up from his phone, glaring at Lance like he's the anti-Christ or something.

Lance grins and holds his right arm out toward him, wrist up. Keith rolls his eyes, but locks his phone and puts it underneath the counter.

“What was it you finally decided on?” Lance had gone through and made the appointment over the phone after his conversation with Pidge and Hunk, more firm in his decision to cover up his soulmark than ever.

“Just put a bar over it,” he says, dropping his arm to the counter. “Like, all the way around so it looks like a band and whatnot.” It's not original. It's not artistic. But it's going to work for him.

Keith is, understandably, unimpressed.

“Do you even know what these mean?” he asks. Lance can't tell if it's out of derision or curiosity. “Or did you get them at some kind of frat party and regret your decision?”

“I wish.” The words are out before Lance can think about them properly, but that's the problem with being him most of the time—he doesn't come equipped with a brain-to-mouth filter. “It's one of those soul-identifying marks or whatever,” Lance says dismissively by way of explanation.  “Kind of diminishes my chances with the ladies, if you know what I mean.”

Keith fiddles with one of the sweatbands around his wrist—Lance has managed to keep his mouth shut about those, for now, but he can feel whatever good manners he has breaking down—before sliding a few papers across the counter.

“So. Just need you to print your name, date and sign where it says . . .”

Lance does as he's told, printing his name as nicely as he can (“You have the handwriting of a kindergartener,” Pidge says in his head; maybe he should get that checked out—he's certain he's only supposed to have his own voice in his head, and Pidge being part of his voice of reason likely means nothing but trouble), and signs the papers with a flourish.

He pushes them back in Keith's direction when he's done, hands shoved into his pockets and balled into fists with his nerves. He can't actually believe that he's doing this—that he's getting his stupid soulmark covered up once and for all, he's never going to have to actually see it again, he's never going to have to think about it again.

Keith glances over the paperwork, fiddling with his sweatbands again, and all of Lance's willpower not to say anything about them breaks. “You know, those were popular in, like, middle school, right?”

“Do you have a problem with me?” Keith demands. “Because I don't actually have to give you a tattoo! I don't have to cover up your soulmark! I can let you wander around with it until you go somewhere else and stop bothering me!”

“Yikes,” Lance says after his initial shock. “Someone didn't eat their wheaties this morning.”

The frown Keith graces him could easily curdle milk.

He shucks the sweatbands off, throwing them to land beside the register. He doesn't break eye contact with Lance even once, bringing his hands back to the counter. “Better?”

There's a challenge there, and Lance isn't quite sure what all of that is about. He just made a comment and might have, maybe, purposely, escalated the situation.

“I mean, yeah, chill? I was just saying.”

Lance's eyes catch on Keith's wrist, red and wrinkled from where the sweatband was.

“Lance McClain,” he reads slowly. And then he laughs, short and dry. “Ha, that's my name! Funny.”

Keith is staring at him like a deep caught in headlights, like he can't really believe what he's seeing.

Lance pulls a face at him. “There's seventeen people in this country with the same name, my man. Now can we get this covered, or . . .?”

“There's seventeen Lance McClain's in this country?” Keith repeats, almost like he can't really believe himself. He sounds strangled.

“Uh. I just said that? I'm sure one of them has your name and whatnot?” Lance is starting to feel more than a little jumpy, like his skin is going to dance off of his skeleton. “Like, is this going to be a problem? Because I can go elsewhere, I guess.”

He doesn't really give Keith a chance to answer—he's already backing up and away from the counter, resolutely not looking at the other man, and his wrist is itching, burning like it hasn't in a long time, and why his lungs feel like they're going to blow?

Lance barely hears Keith before the door closes between them:

“That's Korean on your wrist!”

*

“How'd it go?”

Pidge is the only one in his dorm room—Hunk must be out somewhere with Shea, and Pidge never stays in their own room anyway.

“I, uh. Didn't get my tattoo.”

Pidge looks up from where they're spread out on Hunk's bed, blankets piled up high around them. Lance can smell the open bag of Doritos from where he's standing, and he doesn't even want to question just how long Pidge has holed themselves

“What, did they run out of ink?” They snicker at their own joke as Lance shucks off his coat and kicks his shoes off.

“No.”

“Did you chicken out?”

“No?” He doesn't count leaving because the guy who was going to cover his soulmark happens to have his name on his wrist as chickening out. Not entirely.

“The name on his wrist is the same as mine.”

“The same as yours as in polyamory, or the same as yours as in literally your name?” And. Well. Pidge always catches onto things a little too quickly for Lance's melodrama to fully mature.

“The second one,” Lance says. It isn't a big deal. Nope. Not at all. Not even remotely.

Pidge practically chokes on their spit before launching a textbook at Lance's head. “You're a goddamn idiot!”

He barely manages to dodge the offending object, slamming himself backward so hard his head knocks into the wall.

“What the heck, Pidgeon!”

“He has your name on his wrist!” Pidge's eyes are wide behind their wire framed glasses, and he's never seen them so crazed other than the time he threatened to pour cream soda all over their keyboard. “And you just? You left?”

“Yes?”

There's pause that feels like it stretches miles. It makes the hair on the back of Lance's neck prick up, and his palms begin to clam.

“Do you remember that day you woke up naked in the quad with lipstick and glitter smeared all over your face?”

He has uncomfortable flashbacks; he doesn't know, exactly, how he ended up there.

“Because, you know,” Pidge rolls on, “I have the video of how you got there. And if you don't go back to the that tattoo parlor, I am going to upload it to every social media site and everyone will know your shame before you do.”

Lance questions, for a moment, if Pidge is lying. And if they aren't lying, then could he possibly live with what is on the video? He doesn't remember anything from that specific night, but waking up buck ass naked in the quad with a pidgeon perched on his dick was bad enough.

It's better, probably, not to doubt Pidge.

Lance tucks his feet back into shoes and scoops his jacket up, and leaves Pidge to their own devices.

*

He passes Hunk on the way down the stairs. His best friend is beaming, steaming cup of coffee in his hand.

“Heya, buddy!” Hunk greets, effectively stopping Lance in his tracks.

“I need your advice,” Lance blurts. It's exactly what he wasn't going to say, but Hunk has always been more than willing to listen to Lance's problems—he is, also, the one that was encouraging him not to go through with the tattoo.

“Oh, no. Is your tattoo already hurting you? Are you nauseous? Did you eat before you went in like you were supposed to? You can't take any ibuprofen yet I don't think—it's a blood thinner, y'know, and you don't want that to bleed anymore than it needs to but--”

“Hunk,” Lance interrupts, “buddy. I didn't get the tattoo.” He keeps on down the stairs, fully intent to be on his way.

Except, Hunk turns around and follows him back down the stairs, out into the chilly night outside of their dorm building.

“What happened?” There's no joke about running out of ink or breaking needles—that's Pidge's area, a hundred percent. With Hunk, it's always been genuine concern and gentle understanding.

“The guy I've been dealing with the whole time—the one with the mullet? I made fun of the sweatbands he wears over his wrists. So he took them off.”

Hunk waits for the rest of the story patiently, even as they reach the quad and cross it. He's always had this way of making Lance talk, of causing Lance to divulge more information than he necessarily wants to just because he's Hunk.

“He, uh. Has my name on his wrist. But there's seventeen Lance McClain's in this country,” Lance explains. The night is cloudy, cold, and the street lamps are giving off a yellow lighting that is doing terrible things to his complexion.

“Okay. So there's seventeen people—including you—that have that name. What do you think the chances are of walking into the same tattoo parlor where someone has that name on their wrist?”

And Hunk—Hunk could probably go into schooling for being a councilor, or something, if this whole engineering degree doesn't work out for him.

“You can't make me do math at a time like this, Hunk,” Lance whines instead, leaning his head on his best friend's shoulder. “It's inhumane.”

“They're infinitesimal, Lance. Less than one in a million.”

“Is this the part where you tell me fate sent me into that tattoo parlor?”

“What do you think you are, some kind of Disney Princess?” Hunk jokes, elbow going into Lance's ribs.

Lance blows a raspberry at him rather inelegantly, relishing the childishness of the action.

“He also says that the characters on my wrist are Korean and, uh. I'm pretty sure he's Korean, Hunk.” Lance perches himself up on the brick wall, heels digging into the mortar. Hunk sets his coffee down and hauls himself up beside him.

“I get that you've had these weird ideas about your soulmark—we've been friends since we were ten, dude, you can't deny it—but is this freaking you out because you might have actually found your soulmate, or is this freaking you out because they're a dude.”

Lance snorts, snatching Hunk's coffee cup out of his hands. “You know I don't have a problem with that.”

“With what?” Oh. Hunk wants him to admit it.

Out loud.

“With, uh.” Lance rolls his shoulders, attempting to gesture dismissively. “The whole being a dude thing.” He's never actually admitted his bisexuality to Hunk—he's always just kind of known.

Of course, walking into a bathroom to catch Lance making out with another dude their Junior Prom might have given him a pretty big hint.

Lance looks to his friend, waiting for the conversation to pick up.

“Now, while I'm glad we've had this heart to heart, it's really cold out here. So I'm going back inside, and you're going to Voltron.”

He really needs new friends.

*

Lance strolls into Voltron again, hands shoved in his pockets. The florescent lights inside are nearly blinding after being out in the dark; he has to pause for a moment just inside the door to blink tears out of his eyes.

Keith is still sitting resolutely behind the counter, and Lance wonders again if they ever actually have customers of if there's some mysterious benefactor just paying the bills.

“Hey.” Keith looks up at him for a moment before looking back down at his phone, acting like he hasn't seen him.

“It's. Uh. Come to my attention that I was a bit of a dick.”

Keith keeps looking at his phone, shoulder's stiff as a board.

It's incredibly unnerving, and Lance—he isn't used to being in the wrong, to having to own up to his mistakes, to even openly admitting he's bisexual.

And to be faced down with this gorgeous tattoo artist, this guy who is in all probability his freaking soulmate, is compounding that.

He feels like he's going to die from a heart attack; he should have taken Pidge up on creating his last will and testament before he left.

“Like, I mean. A seriously huge dong. And it was definitely uncalled for. I just—of all the tattoo parlor's I could have walked into, and I picked the one with my soulmate working behind the counter. So, uh, whoop-de-doo. Also, about your sweaty wrist band things, I'm sorry I made fun of those. Like, I get people want to cover up their soulmarks and whatnot—I mean, that's why I was even here in the first place—and it was really . . . insensitive? Is that the word I'm looking for?

“Anyway, it was insensitive of me to ask you to cover up your name even though it's on my wrist. And for making fun of your questionable fashion choices—like, maybe thank me later for not making fun of your mullet out loud?--and. Uh. For like every other time I've been in here?”

He knows that Pidge would have wanted a video of this. It's more than enough blackmail material, and it's the first time Lance has had to actively apologize in years.

Keith finally looks up from his phone, face expressionless. He's not moved by Lance's apology at all.

“There's a diner about a block from here,” Keith says in lieu of accepting Lance's heartfelt apology. “We could go get dinner?”

He's surprised, for a moment, that Keith would still want anything to do with him—considering how much of a dick he's been since the moment he walked into Voltron, he was expecting something quite different.

Lance clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. Yeah. Sure.”

He's not sure what it will lead to, but something feels like it clicks in his core when he walks out of Voltron, side by side with Keith.