#they were clearly thought out and coordinated and had passion behind them

[elytrafemme]

hope that dsmp vol 2 flops so fucking hard & that a lot of the smaller CCs who got fucked over massively by dream and other large creators in dsmp vol 1 are able to enjoy other SMPs (i know aimsey is in area unknown iirc?) that r not tied directly to an incredibly shitty and disrespectful (at bare minimum bc u know i have a lot of fucking thoughts on dream) person. 

[kiridarling]

[a/n: is this a week late? yes. happy belated-valentine's day angels <3]

—ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴀɴ 𝟷𝟾+ ʙʟᴏɢ. ᴍɪɴᴏʀs ᴅɴɪ

𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮; 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥

→ Definitely went to work that day

→ Not a huge romantic but wake up to find a hot breakfast with a note left on the counter.

Happy Valentines Day, dumbass. Love you.

— k.b

→ When he returns from work, Katsuki buys you roses and shoves them into your chest with an eye roll. You thank him and he responds with a grunt before insisting you put on something nice because he’s taking you out on a dinner date whether you like it or not.

→ Katsuki takes you to the fanciest restaurant—so fancy you feel a little bad that he has to pay, even despite his Pro Hero status. But you’re his, and spoiling you might as well be his love language.

→ Halfway through dinner, Katsuki starts getting a little frisky. Sliding the rough leather of his oxfords up the inside of your thigh, winking and biting his lip. You tell him to stop but you only half-mean it, and the knowing grin on his face lets you know he knows.

"Careful, baby. You don't want the waitress to know how much of a dirty slut you are, do you?”

→ He’s condescending as fuck but you’re totally here for it, and the second he pays for the meal you two are speeding down the highway to a love hotel (per Katsuki’s plan, apparently). You barely make it to the bedroom before you’re all over each other, and if it weren’t for that family of four in the elevator, you definitely wouldn’t have.

→ He tells you to get on the bed and strip, and who are you to deny him of such a luxury? He pulls a plastic black bag out of a different bag—it’s clearly full. With what, you may ask?

→ Sex toys!

→ Katsuki’s endgame is simple—make you cum until you can’t anymore. Not that he’s told you explicitly, but he’s got a Hitachi pressed to your sex and two fingers slamming into you just the way you like it. With your wrists comfortably tied above your head, it doesn’t take him long to bring you to your climax, cheeks burning and thighs shaking.

→ Peering at you under the sweaty mess of ash-blond hair, the fire in Katsuki's eyes only adds fuel to the burning of your gut as the vibrator continues whirr. The realization settles in with a shiver. Oh. Oh fuck, he's not stopping.

“Again.”

→ So, you cum again. And again, and again, and by the time you’re on the fifth it gets a bit hard to feel your toes and you’re so sensitive your thighs burn. All you want is his cock, but for some reason, it’s fucking impossible for him to give it to you.

→ Upon voicing your concerns, Katsuki’s devilish smile only grows wider.

“You want this cock that bad, slut? Yeah? Fine then, fuckin’ choke on it.”

→ It’s basically cannon that one of Katsuki’s favorite things to do is watch you struggle to take all of him, but in this position, all you can do is lay back with bound hands as he fucks your face. It’s sloppy and your eyes and throat burn, but it's totally worth it to hear Katsuki fall apart in your mouth.

“S-So good—fuck—such a good whore, taking all of me, aren’t you?”

→ Katsuki pulls out before he cums in your throat in favor of flipping your limp body into downward dog and stuffing you full of cock in one swift move, the bastard.

→ Katsuki’s never been one to take things slow in bed—to him, it’s all hard and fast and now. You’re scrambling for purchase in the sheets as he pounds into that sweet spot he knows you love, and you feel your fully spent sex twitching back to life anyway. Fuck, fuck. Are you going to cum again?

→ Katsuki seems to catch onto this as well, sweaty chest dropping against your back and the cool of his dog tag tickling your neck as his hand rubs between your legs, muttering dirty nothings in your ear.

“You gonna cum for me, baby? Yeah? Gonna make a fuckin’ mess all over yourself like the slut you are? Fuckin’ do it. Fuckin—fuck—”

→ You two cum at the same time, toes curling and ribcage shuddering, and then—

→ Darkness.

→ You wake up in a few hours, properly clean in fresh sheets. Turns out baby boy fucked you so hard you passed out, but it's okay because he’s found reruns of your favorite show on and is fully prepared with water and snacks.

→ (And he’ll never tell you, but he fully panicked and called Eijirou. Obviously, he knew you were alive, but…what if you passed out because of a problem? A concussion? Internal bleeding, maybe?)

→ (Eijirou ensures him that though this should NOT happen every time, it can happen from exhaustion. To say Katsuki relaxes after that is an understatement.)

(Stay safe angels <3)

And speaking of Eijirou...

𝐄𝐢𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐮 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚; 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐤𝐞

→ Definitely did not go to work that day.

→ Today, Eijirou plans to treat you like the princess you are. Cooks you breakfast in bed (after almost burning down the kitchen trying to make bacon but shhh we don’t talk about that) books you a full day spa and has Mina take you shopping for a new outfit for your "fancy date" that night.

→ The location? A surprise.

→ It’s dark by the time you and Mina pull up, but the moment you hop out the car she speeds away. Um. She could’ve at least said bye.

"[Y/N?]"

→ Looks like Eijirou brought you to a lake. You wonder who helped him bundle the fairy lights in the trees and set up the picnic because knowing your man and his coordination, it would’ve taken a forever for him to set this up.

→ But all those thoughts shatter the second you see that he’s on his knees, clutching a velvet box with a gorgeous diamond ring sat in the center. Not too flashy, but not too dull.

“U-Uh.”

→ Eijirou swallows then blinks, the only sign that he’s the least bit nervous for this.

“See…I swear I had planned something to say, but you look…holy shit, um—stunning, you look stunning.”

→ His compliment goes over your head though. Of course it does, he’s holding an engagement ring. He chuckles, averting his eyes to the ground.

“Listen, um, you can say no...B-But uh, I love you a lot—obviously—and I’ve been thinking about this a lot, kind of, because you’re like…the love of my life, ya know? I mean, I know everyone says that and everything but like, I really mean it? But if I’m going too fast o-or you just don’t wanna get married or something, I totally get it because obviously this is outta the blue and everything b-but um…yeah.”

→ You let him stutter through the whole thing because, well. It’s cute.

→ ...And then you tackle Eijirou to the ground with renewed passion and slam your lips onto his. His “babe! The ring!” is muffled but you snort anyway, blindly groping for it through the grass. The moment you find it, you shove it into his palm and stick your hand in his face, and with a (very sexy) chuckle, the redhead slides it onto your ring finger.

“I’ll take that as a yes then?”

→ No shit, Sherlock.

→ Either way, the picnic in the dark is abandoned in favor of yanking Eijirou's pants off and giving him the best head of his life. Because goddammit, you love this man so much and he needs to feel it.

→ Afterward, he insists on returning the favor. A wild Gentle Dom Kiri appears and as he eats you out, he mutters a deadly combination of the sweetest and dirtiest things you’ve ever heard.

“Fuck, you feel so good. So tight and wet. And it’s all for me, isn’t it, baby?"

“You’re gonna cum, angel? Do it. Cum all over Daddy’s face.”

→ Once you semi-recover from your orgasm, he flips you on your hands and knees and slowly pushes inside of you (though not without putting on a condom because safety first, angels). You tell him to speed up, but he denies your request. This time around, Eijirou's going to take the time to love you.

→ As he slowly fucks you under the stars, he dips his chin into your neck as his bigger hands encompass your own. As he starts to play with the ring on your finger, you watch something wet hit the picnic blanket, followed by a sniffle.

“Gosh, fuck—I love you so much. A-And I’m really happy you said yes. I…”

→ You cum first and Eijirou isn’t far behind, shuddering against your spine. Your fiancé unceremoniously rolls onto the picnic blanket next to you, his temple kissing the crest of your skull as the two of you use the comfortable silence to cool down, half-naked under the milky way.

→ In your comfortable silence, you lift your left hand to the stars, fingers splayed to reveal the twinkling diamond solidifying the bond between the two of you. Eijirou hums, hooking his chin on your shoulder.

"Pretty, isn't it?"

𝐃𝐞𝐧𝐤𝐢 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢; 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲

→ Both of you are painfully single and most importantly, strangers. Strangers who think alike and had the glorious forethought to drown your sorrows at a nightclub with a lot of alcohol.

→ Denki, as he does, accidentally knocks over his liquor-filled cup, completely drenching your bottoms. He apologizes and insists on helping you clean up though getting awfully close to your crotch, but both of you are too tipsy to notice.

→ After the liquor spill, you swap embarrassing love stories and lament over the “hardships of being single.” (Denki’s words.)

→ A few hours pass. You’re tired and ready to go home and Denki requests to walk you home to make sure you get back safely. Not that you live far, maybe ten minutes, but by the time you reach your door, you feel like you've known the electric blond your whole life. After saying goodbye and almost closing the door, Denki blurts out a half-drunken confession...or something like that:

“I—uh, y-you are—uhm, no…this is—“

→ You give him a look, a half-smile at best, and it seems to churn the gears in his brain again.

“This was uhm, really fun and uh, I think you’re really cool.”

→ So naturally, when you invite him inside, he squeals.

→ After a few more drinks and a few more spillages (Denki’s never been a deft drunk), you two finally get over your inner thoughts and start kissing on the couch. It’s hot and messy, and the alcohol in your veins makes it oh, so hot.

→ Denki doesn’t expect you to offer head but when you do he nearly cries, scrambling to pull his pants off while you make space for yourself between his thighs.  Due to the fact that there’s alcohol pumping in Denki’s veins and he hasn't been touched by someone else in at least a year, he’s extra-sensitive. And vocal. 

"F-Fuck gorgeous, you're so good at this...o-oh shit, do that again—yeah, yeah just like that."

→ His hips quiver, and he bucks into your mouth on accident. It earns him a glare and a light slap on the thigh, and you make a mental note to unpack the broken moan that interrupts his apology later. 

→ It doesn't take Denki a long time to cum—five minutes max. He plans to give you a warning but his orgasm runs up on the electric blond so quickly he doesn't even get a warning. When Denki orgasms in your mouth with a choked moan, it's only natural that you pull away in alarm, ribbons of semi-translucent cum flying just about everywhere.

→ To say you're pissed is an understatement (because your poor, poor carpet), but Denki feels terrible and is already reaching for the roll of paper towels you left on the coffee table from your cleaning spree this morning, apologies flying out of his mouth like an auctioneer.

→ Obviously, he's going to make it up to you. Not only for making an absolute mess in your living room (seriously, Denki doesn't know if he's ever come that much in his life) but for the bomb head, and he wants to make you feel just as good as you made him feel.

→ Both of you stumble to your room, the mood miraculously rekindled, and you're not sure what to make of Denki's desperation as he claws at your bottoms, pupils blown to the size of dinner plates. And though it's cheesy, you can't help but shiver when he finally gets eyes on your sex, wetting his bottom lip and the grip around your thigh tightening as he catcalls the apex between your thighs before diving in.

"Hello pretty~"

→ Like any pervert with a vivid imagination, Denki's got a mental warehouse of sex tips and tricks and burns to watch you squirm from his touch. He wants you red-faced and breathless and isn’t shy about it, actively paying attention to your reactions when he curls his fingers or uses his tongue just right.

"Oh, you taste so good sweet thing. So pretty and wet...did I do all this, gorgeous?”

→ Also, electro-stimulation? Yes please.

→ Denki's tentative about it at first because he’s not sure how you’ll react, but once you give him that pretty little moan you've been holding back all evening, you two are going nowhere but hell.

→ His dick hurts from being hard for so long and the second you cum, he’s practically begging to fuck you.

“Please? Please gorgeous? Shit, you felt so good in my mouth I just wanna—I need to—please?”

→ Like you needed any convincing in the first place.

→ You ride him per his request—and will definitely make you repeat things back to him, just because he likes how embarrassed and blushy you get. If you refuse? He’ll be an absolute tease about it. (But only for a bit, because we all know his patience isn’t that great.)

"Yeah? You like this cock? Tell me. Tell me how good my cock makes you feel, gorgeous."

→ There's no way Denki lasts very long (again)—definitely with you in his lap. When he cums, it’s cute and breathless, and his nose scrunches into his eyes. But if he came twice, you should too right?

→ The next morning, Denki's gone. But in his place, there’s a note with his number and an explanation:

had to go to work! lol i have the fattest hangover kill me now ty. either way, you should text me. i wasn't kidding when i said i thought you were cool lol.

(xxx)-xxx-xxxx

— kaminari

[a/n: gah XD my brain melted from writing that um-

also don’t worry about the family of four at the love hotel...they were...um...forced to stay there due to an emergency...lol :) see you soon, angels <3]

[butterbeerblurbs]

‘1+1 drabbles’ Hullo! I don't really know how it works, you're my first ask, but here it is, for your event I was thinking about this: 24 - Right before a passionate/first kiss 9 - “I wish I never met you.” I let you decide what you want to do with it ahah . I love your work, thanks :*

aw! hello! i'm honored :") thank you for sending one in! and such sweet words as well ahhhh thank you so much. i hope you enjoy this! (and i also went with fluff bc i'm such a softie) ✨

[you can still send one in here!]

a small little drabbles game based on this list! [web masterlist] | [tag: 1+1 drabbles]

situation: 24 - right before a passionate/first kiss sentence: 9 - “i wish i never met you.”

fred was nervous. cross that, fred is nervous. in his mind, there was a hundred and a billion ways that things could go wrong. little did he know, it does and you’re still smiling at him like it’s all the things that went right. crushing on you for the longest time, growing the pair of balls to ask you out for the yule ball and you saying yes? it’s been a hurricane of events.

he didn’t get the right corsage because he was too nervous (but you assured him his red flower matches your navy blue dress nicely. his coordination was a mess, bumping into you or accidentally nudging your knees with his on the dance floor (but you laughed it off, keeping the mood light as if you two were on cloud nine). he’s a stammering mess, awkwardly cut you off when speaking, unable to use his words, something he does quite often but now all of a sudden he’s malfunctioning (but you’re still so patient and laugh at every joke he says).

he doesn’t know why–merlin, godric, neither of them knew either–his mouth is spewing out words that portray the opposite of what he means. when your lips brush over his, his anxiety skyrockets at the thought of messing things up that he blurts out: “i wish i never met you,” 

because you’re way too perfect for me. 

too out of my league. dunno what i was thinking.

his confession leaves you breathless, stunned almost as you blink at him. he doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches in your throat. your hands falter from behind his neck, so close to pulling away and fred feels his gut dropping to his core at the sight of your eyes watering.

fred’s mouth opens, intending to continue his thoughts when clearly–clear as fucking day–that’s not what he meant! shit, pull yourself together, fred weasley!

a hiss escapes his mouth as he instantly regrets his inability to speak properly. the way your eyes gaze away from him, leaning away from almost kissing him; altogether pained him. instead of hoping to see that gorgeous smile of yours, a frown slowly embeds in your features. here you were looking like you’re about to make a bolt for it to the nearest exit.

he knows if he lets another moment slip, that’ll be it. that becomes the booster for his newfound confidence from within. he squeezes your waist and tries to redo what he had intended to express. a hand of his reaches up to cup your cheek, luring your eyes back up to him. 

“h-hey, that’s... not what i meant. swear on my life, that’s not what i meant,”

even though you look like you’re about to cry, you still manage to look so adorable–okay, focus, god damn it!

“then, what did you mean?” your voice is soft, so gentle. like a feather fleeting over his heartstrings. fred swallows and dips down to brush his lips over yours this time; taking the leap that you tried to earlier before his... you know... slip of tongue.

inevitably, your mouth gapes at the feeling of his warm lips barely touching yours. he eyes your lips then back up to your eyes, as if he’s silently asking for consent. when you nod twice, almost immediately fred covers your lips with his. your heart feels like it’s about to fly out of your chest, landing into fred’s hands as he cradles your face. gently luring you closer to him as he tilts his head, kissing you deeper.

you feel his tongue at the seam of your lips and soon, it’s colliding against yours. tenderly, softly, perfectly.

fred pulls away with his eyes opening to gaze into yours. it’s as if he’s able to wipe away your doubt and it makes him smile when you move to bury your face to his chest. he chuckles and welcomes you, certain you can feel his heart hammering in his ribcage but it wouldn’t be a problem. it was the exact mirror to yours as you hug him a little tighter; relieved. his hands rest around your waist once more, curling around, keeping you near.

“i was gonna say that i wish i never met you because you seem too perfect for me. and it feels like... i’m wondering how i managed to land you as my date to the yule ball and–”

“freddie,” you’re looking up to him, a hand of yours now pillowed to his cheek.

“yeah?”

“shut up and kiss me.”

just like that, the nervousness bubbling from within disappears. replaced with this warmth rousing in his chest at the sight of your eyes sparkling at him; lips inviting him, enchanting, so kissable.

and that’s exactly what fred does.

the night hadn’t panned out the way fred thought it would. but with you, it’s all the reasons why it did anyway.

[tinyboxxtink]

“God I love Weddings!”

Another entry for @storiesofsvu bingo!

I’m hoping “hooking up at a wedding” counts as “Wedding Date”....I mean, what’s more of a date than that? 😉

Warning: Smut. Duh. ☺️

You were a bridesmaid at Chloe, your closest girlfriends' wedding. You didn't know a lot about her husband, just that he was a fancy lawyer. But when you and your friends walked into the groom's room to meet the groomsmen, you were shocked to see just how good looking his friends were. One in particular. His brown hair was slicked back, gorgeous green eyes, and he was definitely working the groomsmen suits better than the other two duds. 

"Dibs" you whispered to your friends.

"Which one?" Chloe leaned in, having heard you.

'That one" you pointed to the man.

"Ah good choice," she smiled at you. Then in a very LOUD voice she announced to the best man.

"Hey Brad, Y/N calls dibs on Rafael!!!"

"Oh my god what is WRONG with you?!" You hissed, grabbing her arm as the rest of the bridal party giggled and taunted you. 

Rafael immediately turned and looked straight at you, his eyes brightened and a panty dropping smile crawled across his lips. He walked over to your group, eyeing you up and down.

"So is that how this works? You ladies just decide which one of us you 'want', like picking lobsters at a restaurant?" 

"Like you and your buddies weren't over there doing the same damn thing," you raised an eyebrow, making him laugh in amusement. 

"I like you," he extended his hand, "Rafael Barba,". 

"Y/N" you took his hand and gently shook it, trying not to swoon right there. 

"Alright ladies and gents, I will see you at the altar!" Chloe waved and walked out of the room, leaving you and your friends to get acquainted with your escorts.

"So, how do you know the groom?" You hated making small talk. 

"We went to law school together," He shrugged.

"Oh so you're a lawyer too?"

“...I’m the ADA,”  He looked at you with a dumbfounded stare, clearly shocked you didn’t know who he was.

“...Am I supposed to know what that is?” You looked back in confusion.

“The Assistant District Attorney,” 

“...Oh so you’re ‘big shot’  lawyer,” You smirked. 

“Something like that,” He smirked back. “And you?” 

“Oh Chloe and I grew up together,” 

“Oh, another Upper East Side princess? Lovely,” He rolled his eyes. 

“Excuse you?” You crossed your arms. “I also have a master’s from NYU, Mr. Business,” 

“In what, fashion marketing?” He gave you a tongued smile. He liked to push buttons; you were kind of loving it.

“No, in makeup chemistry,” You flipped your hair, drawing a hearty laugh from Rafael. “In journalism,” You added, making sure he knew you were kidding. 

“Nice, so a smart princess,” 

“Well I’m not gonna waste time waiting on a prince,” 

“Good,” He smirked. 

Before you could say anything else, the wedding coordinator was calling for all the “couples” to line up, ready to enter the chapel. 

“Shall we?” He presented his arm to you. 

“We shall,” You wrapped your own arm around him with a smile. 

You walked down the aisle arm in arm, and continued to stare at each other throughout the entire ceremony. You tried desperately to focus on Chloe, but Rafael’s smolder was too hard to resist. 

As the music played and the bride and groom skipped down the aisle in marital bliss, Rafael took your arm once again.

“Nice job keeping your eyes on your ��best friend’,” He teased.

“Yeah I could say the same thing!” You teased back, nudging him with your elbow.

“I couldn’t help it, your cha chas are hanging out,” He half laughed, making you hit him harder. 

“They are NOT!” You hissed, self consciously pulling up your dress. You couldn’t help it if your boobs were not really made to be encased in clothes. 

“Oh ok, yeah they’re ‘not’,” He replied sarcastically. 

“You know what, I’m done with you,” You started to walk away from him, but he caught your hand.

“No you’re not,” He whispered, pulling you into a coat closet. 

“What the-- What are you doing?!” You squealed, the door closing behind you. You were now practically on top of Rafael, his arms were around your waist, your arms instinctively went around his neck as you practically tripped on your way inside the closet. 

“I thought we both felt a spark,” He grinned in the dimly lit closet. “And I’m never wrong,” 

“Really?” You scoffed.

“Tell me I’m wrong and you can walk right out of here hermosa,” He caressed your cheek. You stared at him for a moment, his green eyes were full of lust. His smile was intoxicating. Yeah, you definitely felt SOMETHING.

“....Alright stud you’ve got fifteen minutes, we have to be there when they cut the cake.” You agreed.

“Deal,” He grabbed you in a hungry, passionate kiss; his hands pulled down the up do you had your hair in, tossing the flowered hair clip aside. 

“Hey! I needed that--” You started to complain, but Rafael’s hand up your dress left you speechless. 

“I think you needed that more, carino,” He chuckled, running his digits in and out of you. 

“Fuck yes,” you gasped, fondling with his belt. You unzipped his pants to reveal a rather large erection sticking out of it. 

“Thank you God,” You mouthed to the sky. 

“Alright now, no screaming carino, we’re in a church,” He chuckled huskily, lifting your dress above your thighs and plunging straight into you.

You did your best not to moan as you slammed against the door, Rafael pumping in and out of you fiercely. As an alternative, you kept your mouth busy by gnawing on Rafael’s neck, causing his own stifled moans of pleasure. He pulled your dress down off your chest, so your very large “cha chas” were front and center. 

“Oh I see, are these the ‘sparks’ you felt, counselor?” You did your best to sound snarky, but the pleasure was too much. 

“Indeed, princess,” He growled, grabbing one of them in his mouth and sucking hard on your nipples. You wanted to moan so loud, and now his neck was out of reach. You felt it rising out of your throat, but before you could scream a hand flew over your mouth.

Thank God Rafael had made note of your pleasure faces, it was just in time for you to finish in a muffled scream of ecstasy, followed quickly by Rafael’s own shaking and final moaning. He slowly let you out of his grasp, as you fell against the door of the closet.

“Look at that, we’ve still got 10 whole minutes,” He laughed breathlessly. 

“Good, I have to go wash your baby gravy off of my legs, ya perv,” You shook your head and grabbed one of the nearby coats to wipe the warm trail of cum trailing down your legs. 

“Oh my god,” Rafael looked on in disgust.

“Don’t look at me like that, you did it!” You hit him while you wiped it off and haphazardly tossed the coat into the very back of the closet. Maybe it was a lost and found jacket. 

“Alright alright, check if the coast is clear princess,” He rolled his eyes. You cracked the closet door open a tad, making sure the guests had all exited the chapel. To your relief, the hallway was empty. You threw open the door and walked out, Rafael on your heels. You leaned down and picked up the flowered clip, gesturing to your hair.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you in there,” You nodded at him, indicating you were off to fix the damage. 

“I guess you shall,” He winked, giving you one last quick kiss. 

As he walked away, you couldn’t help but giggle with giddiness. 

“God I love weddings,” You smiled to yourself as you headed into the ladies room.

[incorrect-oneokrock]

Afternoon everybody, I just finished watching the Flip A Coin documentary (and calming down afterwards) so you know what time it is! It’s…

✨REACTION TIME✨

Thoughts so far (not spoiler-free, read at your own risk):

Emotions. Just…emotions. I’m not entirely sure what I’m feeling but it sure is a lot.

I went into this documentary not knowing what to expect at all, but it really gave us everything. Behind-the-scenes stuff, really personal content about their lives and backstories, musical performances, EVERYTHING.

❣️❣️❣️TOMOYA WITH THE KIDS❣️❣️❣️That bit was so cute, he clearly loves his little toddlers (and his wife!) so much and watching him light up while he played with them was adorable. And the little baby at the end!!!

(I like that the camera crew gave him and his wife a bit of privacy when they said goodbye at the hospital though. Thanks for respecting them, camera crew.)

The bit with Taka and his dad made me feel things too. When Papa Mori said he could relate to Taka because he ran away from his own home at around the same age and didn’t want his son to go through the same things as him…it really gives a whole new perspective on their relationship. And he’s so proud of his son now!

It’s just such a touching reminder that all our parents are human too, and most of the time they’re just trying to do the best they can for their children and trying to protect them from the things they had to deal with. Sometimes it doesn’t work. Sometimes the results are very mixed. In the end, I think you just have to accept that your kids need to make some wrong choices and learn from some mistakes themselves and try to support them as best you can, and I think that’s what Papa Mori understood and did.

The bit where they talked about the pandemic was somehow…weirdly reassuring, for lack of a better word? To quote All Time Low, “I guess it feels good to know that I’m not alone.” My mental health really crashed and burned for large parts of the pandemic and it’s somehow good to know that they also felt trapped and had really bad days and everything.

I really feel for Taka though. He’s such an active, outgoing person who lives for performing and is always running all over the place doing things and trying new stuff, so not even being allowed to leave the house must’ve hit him extra hard. And Toru stuck in the hospital, interacting only with nurses in protective suits that covered everything but their eyes…I would’ve quite simply lost it. I’m glad they all came out okay.

Taka the mastermind was such a delight to watch though! I always knew he was a perfectionist and a visionary, but it was so fascinating to see just how much he coordinates the big picture and how high he always reaches. He was really the driving force behind this show and you can see it in everything he does.

Watching them perform again. Watching them perform again!! They all look so happy!!!

Absolutely loving all the bits from the Field of Wonder concert in this. A girl might just have to get her grabby hands on the DVD because wow!

I know opinions on “Wonder” are divided, but personally I enjoyed it a lot. It’s such a Taka song to me, it really carries his spirit and philosophy—the drive, the optimism, the burning passion and hunger for life and everything in it. And it’s got that high-pitched guitar solo thing in it like in “We Are” and it very much carries their handwriting across too. Looking forward to the official release tomorrow, I’ll be blasting this for sure!

Admin, shut up about Taka already—no, I won’t. Because watching him perform made him realize how much he’s not just a performer, but a natural-born entertainer. Let me compare him to my other fave vocalist for a sec, Joel Hokka from Blind Channel. They’re both people who were born to sing and perform, but their performance styles are very different—Joel is all about the contagious joy of music and being on stage while Taka is almost an actor, playing a lot with expressions and eye contact and dance moves and everything. I just think it’s fascinating.

The speech at the end, during “We Are”. I won’t even elaborate. Watch it and cry.

When the show ended and Taka started crying! And then everyone started crying!! And then the audience (me) almost started crying too!!!

It’s just. They’re all so close and they love each other dearly and they love what they do and they love performing so much. And Taka’s optimism is just…exactly what we needed last year, and exactly what we need now. Yes, Taka! I WILL live!! We will see each other again or so help me!!!

That’s all I can think of for now. If you made it to the end of this post, have a cookie. Feel free to add your own thoughts and clog everyone’s dash with this already overlong post.

TL;DR: The documentary was amazing and if you haven’t watched it already, do it ASAP. Admin out.

[stardust-kenobi]

Let Me Help You

Obi Wan x Reader

Summary: Obi Wan isn’t very tech-savy, and he wants you to help him with his computer while you two sit in the Jedi Temple library. You offer your assistance, and decide to help him in other ways, too.

Warnings: smut, dub-con!!, male oral receiving, public oral sex

Word count: 2k

A/N: ⚠️please DO NOT read if you’re uncomfortable with dub-con. It’s not for everyone. (In this specific plot it’s used because Obi Wan is trying to be a good Jedi) Consent is slightly more clear right before the act.

This was requested by anon! Thanks lovely, hope you enjoy 💕

(my gif)

Obi Wan’s face became more frustrated by the second. You sat across from him in the Temple library. You’d joined your friend today because he wanted the company while he completed some tasks undoubtedly related to his Jedi duties. 

“You alright?” You inquired, attempting to withhold a giggle at the sight of a man who is so usually calm becoming annoyed at technology.

“This datapad is going to drive me mad” he huffed. His fingers furiously tapped away at his attempted tasks.

“Sounds like a user-error” you teased him while continuing to stare at him. He looked up at you, obviously trying not to smile back. “And it’s a desktop computer, so, not technically a data pad” you jokingly corrected him.

“Well, whatever it is, it doesn’t like me very much” he remarked and returned his attention to the illuminated screen.

“What exactly are you trying to do?”

“I’m trying to navigate the archives here but it keeps telling me I’m typing in invalid coordinates” his voice grew more annoyed.

“Would you like my help?” You offered kindly

“No, that’s not necessary.” He politely declined.

You waited, not responding, knowing he’d change his mind after another failed attempt. His eyes shot upward at you across the table and quickly looked back down, but then hesitantly returned to your gaze.

“Maybe I could use your help, y/n” he finally admitted.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought” you rose from your seat and headed around the table. You observed the room, and no one was around. You hadn’t seen anyone in the library since you walked in. You could probably hear a pin drop in the vast silence. You came around behind his chair and leaned down next to him. Obi Wan’s eyes could not have been less discreet as they peered over to your chest that was now at his eye level. Your shirt was low cut, and perhaps a little too tight, but nothing you wouldn’t normally wear. You noticed but said nothing to Obi Wan, just flattered that he wanted to look.

“Let me try and enter the coordinates. What were they?” You inquired. He gave you the same numbers he had been typing in. You unfortunately found yourself having the same issue he was having. Obi Wan laughed, mocking you for thinking it was his fault.

“User-error, was it?” He teased you. You shook your head and giggled.

“Let me try something else” you said. You attempted other methods in order to make it work. 

“Why don’t you pull up a chair?” He suggested.

You looked around, there were no chairs close, except for your chair on the other side of the table.

“Oh no, that’s alright” you shrugged, but then an idea crept into your devious, sexually deprived head. You checked your surroundings again, no one was in the library. It was late, anyways, so it wasn’t unusual.

Obi Wan’s lap sat there, open and empty, legs spread open, as if it was waiting on you to fill the space. You slowly moved your hips downward and over onto his thighs. He didn’t say a word, protest, or even make a sound, until you were fully seated on his unprepared lap.

“Oh, um...alright then” he stuttered, unsure what to say, but didn’t reject you either.

“Sorry, I saw a perfectly good seat and took it. That okay?” You clearly played innocent.

He roughly cleared his throat and breathed out hard. His built up sexual tension was obvious, and you preyed on it guiltlessly.

“No problem at all” he chuckled, finally responding to you. Continuing to work at the computer in your new found seat, you rotated your hips side to side subtly, pressing more firm into him. Hardly any time had passed before you felt him grow aroused under your ass. You smirked, loving the effect you were having on him.

“Oh, there we go, it worked!” you announced suddenly. The screen displayed the archive location that he searched for, after tweaking with the settings for a bit.

“What worked?” He breathed out, clearly more flustered than the last time he spoke. It was as if he was snapped out of a trance. He was incredibly distracted and couldn’t even recall for the moment what you were even helping him with.

“The...computer?” You stated the obvious, turning around sharply to meet his eyes.

“Right!” He shyly remembered.

His erection was continuing to grow and he wondered if you could feel it against you.

“Something wrong, Obi Wan?” You asked him, Both of you were fully aware of what was happening, but the lack of direct communication refused to acknowledge it plainly.

“Oh, I’m fine” He replied, clearing his throat again.

“You sure? You seemed flustered” You pushed the conversation further.

“Y-yes I'm, uh, I’m sure” he stumbled over his words.

“Seems like you’re having a hard time with your words there, Master Kenobi” you purred, wasting no time dancing around the idea. “Well, something is hard” you smirked, getting close to his face while sitting sideways across his thighs.

His breath hitched in his throat when he heard your voice turn sensual. Obi Wan said nothing because he wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted you, that you could tell, but a man that lived so strictly by the Jedi code would be hard to crack. And in public? He’d be insane to let you seduce him.

“Y/n...” he groaned deeply. His body language communicating how hard it was to restrain himself.

“Yes?” You whispered while moving your lips to his bare neck. You placed your lips at his supple skin and pecked slowly and lightly.

“As lovely as this is, I can’t” he protested. “It’s forbidden for me to engage in this, y/n, you know that”

Regardless, your lips continued working at his neck. A hum, almost resembling a moan, crawled from his mouth.

“You’re telling me, that if I got on my knees, right now, right here in front of you, that you wouldn’t want me to suck your cock?” You purred so softly directly into his ear. You observed the chills that cascading down his body and you smiled against his skin.

“Stars, y/n, I’ve never heard you talk like this” He avoided the question, his breathing still tense. You felt his hips buck slightly up into your weight.

“I know how stressed you are, Obi Wan, let me help you” you offered. He looked into your eyes for a moment. Desperation was hidden deep in his gaze. He wanted a release, but had to make a decision of his morality and his loyalty to the Jedi Order.

“You want to do that to me...here?” He inquired the absurdity of your offered actions and especially there in public. His tone was so innocent and clueless to your attraction to him.

“Oh, Master Kenobi, it’d be my pleasure” you called him by his formal name yet again, even though you’d only ever called him Obi Wan. You assumed it might turn him on. You were right.

You softly press your lips onto his. He received your lips hesitantly, but then eagerly. You moved to straddle him, placing both legs on either side of his hips. You pushed your hips forward, curling them into his bulge. Becoming more comfortable with your touch, Obi Wan’s lips danced with yours passionately.

Butterflies fluttered in your belly as you finally acted on your eager built up desires for him.

“But, y/n, the Council -” he began again, breaking the kiss, and still worried for his long list of ethical restrictions on his life.

“I don’t see them here...do you? And we both know Anakin doesn’t follow the rules, does he?” You persisted.

“Well, no. I suppose you’re right” he whispered back, laughing quietly at your comment. He was nervous, but it was impossible for him to hide his new hunger for your lips around his cock.

“Allow yourself some fun, Master”

“Y/n, I want to, but I’ve never done anything like this before” He admitted casually.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you” you sweetly assured him.

“Okay, darling, but I do believe we must make this quick” he finally fully accepted the idea, but looked quickly around the very large room to confirm you were alone together.

“Oh it won’t take me long at all” you winked at him.

Removing yourself from his lap, his eyes never left you as he was unsure of your next step. You got on your knees in front of him, as you promised. His hands eagerly fumbled to pull his trousers down. You met his hands halfway and took over.

His cock begged to be let free from its restraints. Once the cloth passed his full length, it sprung out and met your eye level. He was so adorably nervous. You released a moan at the sight of him exposed to you.

You wrapped your hand around him and the contact made him twitch. He breathed out heavily as he’d never been touched like this by another person. Your eyes met his lustful gaze. You raised your eyebrows, non verbally asking If he was ready. He nodded his head, and you proceeded.

Your lips parted widely to bring him into your mouth. Your eyes locked as you lowered your mouth completely down his length, taking all of him into you. A feeling so unfamiliar to him caused Obi Wan to grip the arm rest of the chair. He breathed in sharply, and exhaled the sweetest moan. Using the moisture from your mouth, you glided yourself up and down slowly.

“Oh my stars, y/n” he whispered. You two knew you still needed to be quiet, in case someone was close.

Obi Wan was so sensitive and touch starved beyond belief. No matter how hard he tried to muffle himself, he was unsuccessful. Your ears were graced with the delicate sounds escaping his lips as you brought him more pleasure than he’d ever experienced before.

“Fuck” he cried, already so close to his climax from your skilled motions. Vulgarity flying from him was a new sound to you and it earned a warm sensation inside of you.

An aching formed between your legs, a feeling of pleasure that was all too familiar to you. You wanted him to take you right then and there, but you’d surely get caught. Another time, you thought.

Removing your mouth to rest your jaw, you pumped your hands around him. You looked up at him, his eyes had still not broken contact with you while you created a euphoric form of pleasure for him for the first time.

“Y/n...” he whimpered

“Yes, Master Kenobi?” You cooed and smiled at him. He formed a grin down at you that quickly turned back into his O-face as you pumped him faster.

“I’m...oh my” he started, his body couldn’t stay still.

“Are you gonna cum for me?”

“Oh, yes, y/n. I’m so close. I’m gonna cum” he whined.

You returned the moisture of your mouth back to his cock and sloppily, yet rhythmically, sucked him continuously, responding to the way his body moved and the sound of his moans. The veins in his length twitched and his hips shifted.

Obi Wan threw his head back in ecstasy and just then you felt your throat become coated in his hot cum. The suppression of the growls that formed from his climax was intense and deep, somehow loud and quiet simultaneously.

You swallowed him up and removed your mouth from his sensitive parts. Obi Wan’s head was still laid back, you watched as his chest rose and fell with the effort to catch his breath.

“Was that alright?” You asked, giggling, knowing the answer already.

“Well, I...darling that was...incredible” he finally expressed in between his deep breaths.

You helped him pull his trousers back up and plant a kiss on his cheek as you stood.

“Glad I could be of some assistance for you tonight” you winked.

He was blushing, still in disbelief that you two just engaged in such an act. He was so precious and shy about the whole thing, but enjoyed every single second of it.

“Perhaps maybe I can help you next time, hm?” He suggested. You bite your lip, already growing eager for the next time you’d be alone with him.

Kinda wanna make a part 2??

[itstheimpossibledream]

Only A Play-Part 2

Word Count:3053

Pairing :  AU Henry & FemBlack! Reader

Warning:Angst, soon to come Smut

Summary: Y/n and Henry still trying to navigate their mutual attraction but, their job is making it harder to deny.The next chapter is already written, there’s sex in it I swear.

"So today I want you guys to focus on working with Dana" Steve began 

"She's our resident intimacy coordinator, I've already gone over the scene with her and she's going to make sure it goes over as smooth as possible. We're going to get her assistance a couple times during this process but today we're going to empty out the studio so have fun, play and get to know eachother. Today is just a day for you two to find some comfortable physicality with eachother." Stephen winks at you and then begins ushering tech and the few ensemble members out of the room. Friend or not, anyone attracted to men could not deny that Mr. Cavill was absolutley gorgeous, as wasted as it may be. In all honesty you hadn't spoken much aside from that snowy day outside the studio. He did begin to bring coffee and Kal to rehearsals and you tended to find the snuggly, bear of a dog always next to you when you were waiting for a cue but, it wasn't as though the two of you had had a heart-to-heart and resolved any of these unspoken differences. And as far as the scene was concerned your heart was doing backflips unable to tell which action would come more naturally, to kiss him or to hit him.

"So I'm seeing a lot of passion here! O !Please remove your shoes for today's lesson." Dana cuts in breaking the silence. Both of you look down at the wood paneled floor. Now was the time where you really had to work, you think to yourself while slowly slipping out of your shoes. 

“Unfortunately Dana, “ Henry begins, immediately charming the brakes off of her. 

 “ At this point of the play I believe her character is quite conflicted, as a woman she obviously wants to give in to him but, at the same time she knows she'll be letting down her family and he will too, they'll live a life with no family outside of the one they create for themsevles. It's quite powerful.But, a tough emotional point to bring oneself to."

"That may be how Christopher sees it -" you snap referring to his character. You are suddenly aware that you sound way more upset then you had intended to. "She doesn't want have sex with him because if she does she's giving up more than him,she always has.That's the whole story of their relationship. " you say, allowing your words to be the dam between the flood of  frustration you want to direct his way.

"So as you said we both have a lot of emotions here, we need to work on honing them into something that could potentially work itself into this explosion of passion okay?" Dana jumped excitedly. She looks exactly like what you would have expected from an intimacy coordinator.She wore a long moo-moo like dress and chunky amber jewelry.She smelled of a ton of weed, not as though you were really complaining but, it all added to the aesthetic that had washed into the room on her heels as she had entered. 

"I want to begin with an exercise- Mr.Cavill I know you've done scenes like this before so please work with me if I touch on some things you've already heard." she says leaning over and squeezing his forearm while winking. Great even the sex scene coordinator thought he was hot.

" I'm going to give you the space to choose but I want you both to just slowly go through the scene and when you hit a line that feels acceptable you remove an item of clothing. On stage you've both agreed to full nudity but today I just want to push you to do what feels comfortable!" Quietly you both moved to the opposite ends of the room, hitting your marks to begin the scene. You said your first few lines focusing on washing the dishes, the studio didn't have running water so it ended up being more like mime washing dishes. You were so much more professional than you were proving to be in this moment but, the second Henry removed his shirt you couldn't help but feel embarrassed. On his first line?Really? That was so like him ,so pompous.  And even more upsetting how ridiculously attractive he was. God was his body sculpted from marble? Nothing but pure muscle rippling evenly, he seemed somehow tanned, despite the blistering New York winter. You focused hitting your next line perfectly ,completely unphased by his topless body.With the following delivery you shrug out of your jacket, revealing your tank top. Thank christ you had expected to have a hook-up with a bartender after today's rehearsal. You weren't in full lingerie but, you were definitely in a matching set. A matching set that happened to make your ass look great. You held that in your back pocket, knowing you had every right to parade about, naked in the same room as someone who was a shoe-in to be named 'World's Sexiest Man'. You went for it, pulling off your tank top with your next line. This is when your blocking got physical. You had run this scene before but, running it scantily clad was an entirely different matter. You were supposed to  straddle him. That seemed simple enough. You stood before him, gingerly sliding one knee up onto the couch and then swinging another to the other side of him. 

"Are you sure?" he whispered, low and slow. You hated how during the scenes he actually had moments of completely brilliant acting where you could see an amazing talent. Then, you felt his hand on your knee. It was absurdly large and warm, so warm. You froze. You didn't want to do it but, you froze.Your eyes flitted all over the room, desperately looking for a way out , to end the scene. You feel his hand move up your thigh, it's the blocking, he's just doing his job, you remind yourself. But, something in you makes you afraid of his touch. You look into his eyes and you can tell he's noticed you shrinking under his touch. He clears his throat and drops character.Changing his intention toward Dana.

"I'm sorry can we start over? I completely forgot my line." he smiled at her.

"Sure! That was really great I think just focus a bit more on your intention. It's funny I think you guys had more sexual tension at the start of the rehearsal than at the top of the scene!" she laughed to herself. "Okay, let's take a step back, relax , stand up !  Stand up!" she says, jumping to her feet. The two of you peeled yourself apart from each other and you found yourself looking down at your perfectly perky breasts feeling more insignificant than ever. You could feel your face heating up by his move to take the blame for the scene. It was much more gentlemanly than you were expecting from him. 

"How about we take a break and come back in twenty? She suggested after a few warm-ups of jumping around and saying self -assuring mantras out-loud. After half a bottle of water, redressing, boring stretches and pretending to avoid eye-contact with Henry your rehearsal was finally up.

“ Oookay guys good stuff. Goooood stuff ! So for the weekend tomorrow I know Stephen had you signed up for a few meet and greets and publicity shoots but, I actually think that if you guys could set aside the time that you do spend together to get physically comfortable it could do a lot for your onstage comfortability. Hand holding, general petting or stroking, you may even want to try a light sitting on the lap, just anything really to get you more used to one another. This relationship needs to seem as effortless and fluid as possible.” She smiled “ also note that my number is free for 24/7 communication so if something comes up for you emotionally in this work feel free to get in contact with me, even if it's just to chat my door is always open!" she beams,collecting her water bottle and other assorted scripts she was reading through at the beginning of the rehearsal. 

Stephen reenters and, he and Dana go to the corner of the room to talk. 

You work your back pack onto your shoulder and begin to head for the door.

"Wait up!" Henry calls out from behind you. You whirl around and almost bump into him. His sweatshirt is baggy but unzipped enough that you can see the small tufts of hair playing at the tops of his chest, his baseball cap pulled way down over his forehead. Those blue eyes shined bright from the shade under that baseball cap. 

"What are your plans for tonight ?" he asked, slightly exaggerating his breathing from the light jog across the room. You searched the room awkwardly,looking for an out. What is it with him? Why did he think, especially after the last time the two of you had spent alone together, that you would ever want to be included in his plans for the night.  

"Perfect Idea!" Stephen exclaims from across the room. "You guys use tonight to bond as much as possible before tomorrow afternoon's interview session yeah?" 

"Uhhhh sure ." You agree, not wanting to seem like the town buzz-kill. You turn shrugging towards Henry. He smiles, seeming almost relieved that you agreed without putting up a fight, as Steve moves to rejoin Dana in the back

"So uhhh my place or yours?" he asks in a half hearted joke. 

"Uhhh" you definitely don't want him at your place, where there is laundry strewn all over the apartment . 

"I mean I have to feed my dog and run some errands anyway so my apartment would be ideal."

"O great! Okay yeah , let's do that then." you pushed on the door and headed for the elevator, the ride down to the lobby of the rehearsal studios was entirely silent, filled with awkward shuffling and avoided eye contact. Only punctuated by a short uber black ride in silence to an apartment on the upper east side. Ofcourse he lived on the upper east side.The doorman was polite as you followed behind him, clearly him bringing strange women up to his apartment was not entirely unheard of. Once in the room, you asked where to sit your bag down, your afternoon ritual usually included a trip to the gym, that is what had become your me -time since college. He motioned you to his guest room, in which you were shocked,contained a shower, granted the entire tiny room was a shower but, being a guest in New York with your own bathroom was definitely not an everyday thing. Especially, for a little black girl from the south. 

"Is it okay if I shower before we grab dinner?" you ask.

"Oh! You wanted to grab dinner?I was just going to order chinese."

"That's fine! " you ungracefully exclaimed from the other room.Shit. Hopefully he didn't think you really meant grab dinner like on a date.

"Do you have a special order?"he asked, appearing in the doorway. You turned around slightly alarmed that his voice had gotten that much closer.

"I love everything!" you smile, he looked down at the floor nervously. "but shrimp lomein is my favorite." you say unzipping your jacket and placing it on the bed, your bra was working overtime holding you up and you made a mental note to order another one exactly like it. He cleared his throat and there was a second of silence. You could feel his eyes slowly darting around the room trying not to look at your chest. As actors, especially ones who have to do nude scenes together you didn't think it would be a big deal to him that you were getting ready to shower. You had mentioned on the elevator earlier that you had wanted a shower. Taking off your jacket just seemed like the right next step, nothing to feel weird over. 

"Sounds Good!" he exclaims, finally showing you his full smile, for the first time since the rehearsal process had started. God he was a sight, he had removed his hat and you noticed how perfectly his hair curled onto his forhead.It was adhered by sweat but, not the weird homecoming- football helmet sweat, you get from your highschool crush. This was a grown-man glistening infront of you. It sounded ridiculous, the situation itself was ridiculous,why was he even sweating ?

"Sorry-I uh- I didn't know you were showering right now. We can talk about it later if you-"

"It's fine" you say, stepping in and  laying a hand on his forearm.His eyes shot down to your hand then immediately back to your eyes, sure to avoid seeming like he was staring at your breasts. He clears his throat again and you can smell the faint cologne on him as you watch his adams apple bob. The air in the room changes and you feel him shift away from you. You mumble a thanks for the dinner as you hear  him close the door between you. 

Your shower was perfectly steamy and warm, much unlike your brooklyn apartment that had charm and character but, a much worse hot water heater. As you washed away the dirt from the day you tried not to think of Henry, of what he must think of you for absolutely chewing him out just a few short weeks ago. He seemed to have gotten over it but, at the same time perhaps he was just trying to be the better person. As much as you hated to admit it he had completely accepted your scathing critique and was now treating you like the highest paying guest at a five-star resort. You turned down the hot water, basking in the last bit of steam and enjoying the first true silence of your day. Reaching an arm up, you grab a towel, wrapping it around your body. You stretched out for another towel that you had laid across the sink, somehow your legs completely slipped from under you and you crashed to the floor,grabbing the sink for leverage. Really all you did was knock over some toiletries that you had put on the sink earlier and you could feel your cheeks heating up. It was weird to be embarrassed in a room by yourself but, you knew he must've heard something. You sat on the floor, allowing your chin to rest on the top of your knees. You desperately needed a moment to breathe. Life had been so stressful lately, and you possibly had let off a bit too much steam on him. He was actually a nice guy, sure the accessible information on him didn't make him look amazing but when it came down to it once you explained how you felt about him he had worked so hard to seem normal and accessible. For whatever reason  he seemed to respect your opinion as an artist. The knock at the door kept you from becoming completely lost in your thoughts. It knocked again and you could hear his feet shuffle on the hard wood outside of the door, the nails of the large dog clicking the floor next to him. 

"You okay in there?" It seemed earnest enough.

"Yeah!" you called back "My mind has really been somewhere else lately, I just umm lost my footing- that's all." 

"Okay well let me know if you need anything." It was cheery but helpful. Once you heard him close the door to your room you got up and got dressed as quickly as you could, fumbling to get sweatpants on without accident. Today was definitely not your most agile day. You finally let your hair down and put on just the smallest amount of mascara to make your eyes pop.It was an effortlessly hot look that had worked for you for years, especially in college. You closed the door behind you and gently padded your way to the kitchen. The apartment was cozy, Kal was curled up on a rug in the corner of the room while Henry portioned the food onto pristine white plates. You noticed the baseball cap was back on and at least thanked god for giving you that small assistance in removing the temptation to touch him by running your fingers through his hair.

"So you order takeout but refuse to eat it out of the container?"you asked jokingly as he whirled around from the counter.That smile appeared on his face again and you knew you were putty in his hands,The way he filled out his navy blue t-shirt was unbelievable.

"It's less calories this way." he winked. Thank god he had a sense of humor.You returned his smile now sitting in the chair closest to the kitchen. The conversation veered from workout routines, to body image stress as a performer and then back to work. You found yourself sucking a noodle wishing he'd bring up something else. You absolutely could not do a night of niceties and small talk at this point in your life but, you also weren't ballsy enough to walk right up to him and tell him you wanted him.

"Y/N?"he asked

"Yeah?" you jumped being pulled once again from you daydream

"Do you wanna run lines or watch tv or something?"he asked shyly

"Yeah I mean -we can run lines if you want I just thought we were supposed to bond by talking or something." you laughed trying to take the edge off the awkwardness of the scenario.

"Well what do you want to talk about ?' he asked, leaning back in his seat, baseball cap over his eyebrows.His jawline was so sharp it could cut ice, it dawned on you that he was actually much too goodlooking for his own good. 

You picked up a fortune cookie at the center of the table and tossed it to him.

"Read me your fortune."you smiled seductively. He raised his eyebrows at you but, something must have convinced him because he simply shook his head and said.

"Okay."

[unbridgeabledistances]

i love ur new fic! only a couple of requests - more parts to it! and...more softness between the two of them 🥺 we hardly get given any in the show </3

:)) ty so so much, anon!!! as requested, here’s another installment of the alternate POV fic (this time from tami’s perspective) and a whooole lot of domestic gallavich softness (featuring very sappy kitchen slow dancing)

--

Tami knew that the pandemic had taken a toll on its fair share of relationships— hell, hers and Lip’s included. But as much as she and Lip bickered and miscommunicated and regularly put up solid walls of lies between each other, at least, the very least—

At least they weren’t like Ian and Mickey.

At some point between being head-over-heels, fuck-all-night crazy for each other and getting married, something between Lip’s brother and his stellar choice of a Southside boyfriend had definitely changed. Tami wasn’t really close to either of them, other than Ian’s borderline obsession with Fred and her gratefulness for the cooing baby voice that came over him every time Tami thrust her tired arms out for him to take the screaming toddler in her arms, and she barely crossed paths with Mickey in a situation that wasn’t coordinating frozen waffles for breakfast or sitting across from him in the living room during Gallagher family movie nights that always inevitably turned into a passionate thirty minute screaming match about which movie to pick— but ever since the first time she set foot into the slumped and sagging Gallagher house, Tami knew that Ian and his choice of a prison-break boyfriend were something special, at least at the beginning.

She’d seen it the first time she met the two of them, when these two grown men were willingly crashing in that shitty single bed in the boys’ room while she and Lip were slumming it in the ever-so-spacious privacy of the cramped room with the accordion door, back when the halls were crawling with strangers making tamales and Fred was barely weeks old and Tami was inches away from losing her shit; Tami couldn’t imagine being in a smaller and more confined space than the one that she was in, locking herself in the bathroom behind an actual fucking door every chance for some peace and quiet, distancing herself from Lip every chance she got— and then there was Ian and Mickey down the hall, sleeping pressed together on a concave mattress meant for a single teenager, pouring each other coffee and trading glances as they sat next to each other at the breakfast table, and pulling each other closer every second they had the chance despite the fact that they’d just gotten out of a months-long prison stay together. There was something so earnest, and so weirdly romantic, about seeing a hardass like Mickey Milkovich, someone with “Fuck U Up” tattoos on his knuckles and more of a sailor’s vocabulary than Tami had, turn to putty whenever he was in proximity to Lip’s little brother. Tami had to be honest—she was kind of impressed. These guys clearly had the teenager, puppy-dog kind of love for each other that hadn’t really gone away, something that she didn’t think that she and Lip ever really had, or ever really would— so as much as she felt like her life and her relationship with Lip was spiraling towards a series of cascading failures, it was nice to know that at least someone in the Gallagher house had a sturdy, stable relationship.

And then, of course, the pandemic hit.

When all this COVID shit started, Tami had counted her infinite blessings that she and Lip had gotten a place of their own outside the Gallagher house before all the sprawling weeks of lockdowns; Tami couldn’t imagine the kind of unforgiving hell on earth it would be to quarantine in that tiny slumped house, in a tiny cramped room, for months on end until the U.S. tangentially got its shit together. So it made sense, really, that everything between Ian and Mickey had changed.

She’d noticed it that first morning, when she and Lip finally dropped by the house after weeks of hunkering down to have breakfast with everyone, carrying a box of cheap pastries they’d gotten on the walk over— and the first thing she’d noticed when she walked into the kitchen was how far apart Mickey and Ian were sitting, on opposite ends of the rickety kitchen table, any scarce dialogue between the two of them turned brittle and stale.

There were spats, now, and gentle shoves that turned less gentle; she and Lip weren’t around the house much anymore, thank fucking god, but what few conversations she did see between Ian and Mickey always ended with raised voices and them both practically having steam coming out of their ears, or with some stray bystander needing to plant themselves in the middle of the married couple to tell them to calm the fuck down. Tami would lock eyes with Lip as they scuffled in the kitchen, her eyebrows raised in a message that she knew Lip understood: “See, this is why I never want to get married.”

So that was pretty much the situation Tami expected to be walking into, late one afternoon when Lip was presumably off doing some shady shit with those stolen bikes and Tami was stuck at the Gallagher house waiting to meet up with him so they could keep working through “Operation Sell the Gallagher House to Gentrifiers.” Tami had expected Lip to be here a couple of hours ago, and was honestly debating just saying fuck it and going home— but Fred had passed out in Tami’s lap as they were sitting on the couch a couple of minutes ago and Tami was not going to wake this monster child up before he was ready and took another hour of crying and writhing to settle down again. Tami was leaning back, closing her eyes and enjoying a rare moment of peace in this godforsaken house… when she was snapped back into reality by the sound of a kitchen cupboard slamming shut.

Huh. Tami had apparently drifted off, but Freddie was still sound asleep in her lap, pinning her down. It was definitely the early evening by now— the sun had started to set, glowing purple from behind the thin curtains.

A clang came from the kitchen again, and Tami craned her neck as much as she could without stirring the sleeping toddler in her lap to peer into the kitchen from the open doorway to see if Lip was home— and instead, she saw Ian standing by the counter opening something with a can opener, and Mickey beside him.

It looked like they’d been in the kitchen a while—from the corner of her eye she could see Mickey perched on the countertop sipping a beer, his legs swinging while Ian milled around him pulling things from the cabinets and manning the stovetop. She knew both of the boys weren’t much of a cook, and from what she’d seen Ian’s culinary abilities didn’t exceed heating up canned soup or spreading butter on toast— but it looked like he was chopping onions and opening a can of black beans for something, which struck her by surprise. There was music playing low from a little portable speaker in the kitchen, presumably something Ian had brought down from the bedroom— right now there was some 80s hit playing that reminded Tami of the music her dad used to listen to while he was putzing around in the garage when she was little, if she was bring totally honest. But Mickey seemed to be enjoying it, his head bobbing slightly to the beat while he scrolled through what she recognized as Ian’s phone.

“Okay, the recipe website says you’ve gotta add cumin now. What the fuck is cumin?”

She could hear Ian’s dry laugh. “A spice? I think? We probably don’t even have it, I’ll just add a shit ton of chili powder and it’ll taste fine.”

“Whatever you say, Rachel Ray.”

Tami could see Ian lean to flip Mickey off, then turn to poke through the cabinets. Weird. Ian had flipped Mickey off, sure, but there wasn’t any malice in it; for the first time in a while, it seemed like the two of them were actually coexisting peacefully for once— which, thank god for that, at the very least because it meant Fred would stay sleeping on her lap for a while until Lip got home.

Now that she thought back on it, Ian and Mickey had seemed a bit more settled lately— she’d heard bits and pieces about all the stuff with Mickey’s abusive asshole of a dad moving in next door, and about the two of them starting a security business together in that random ambulance that was always parked in the street now (Tami wasn’t even going to ask)— she could imagine that running errands around Chicago together all day long in matching jumpsuits would bring anyone closer together. This was the first time she’d really seen them enjoy being in each other’s space since the pandemic started, just casually hanging out around the house without something fiery about to erupt between them, whether from anger or passion— and honestly, it was kind of nice to by in proximity to, just listening to their chatter floating back and forth and the sizzling of onions and chili flakes in a pan while the music drifted between them.

Tami sat there for a while, closing her eyes again as the shadows in the room grew deeper, listening to some Bon Jovi song play low in the background and feeling the solid weight of Fred breathing evenly pressed against her chest.

A couple minutes of minutes later, she heard the stove being turned off, and the clanking of plates being taken out of the cabinets as the song ended.

“Hey, can I pick a song?” Ian asked, over the sound of him putting the sizzling pan into the sink.

Mickey burped loudly, and Tami could see that he was still perched on the edge of the kitchen counter by the stovetop.

“Yeah, but put on something good, man. None of your techno bullshit.”

“Pass me my phone.”

Ian fidgeted with the phone for a moment—and then a familiar song, a lot softer than the cheerful drumbeats of the melodies before, came streaming through the speaker.

“I found a love, for me…”

Immediately, she heard Mickey chuckle loudly, like he was surprised.

“Fuuuucking softie,” Mickey groaned, but when Tami craned her neck again to slyly peer at the two of them in the kitchen she could see that he was grinning. At first Tami was confused, but then a memory started to stir— this was their wedding song, wasn’t it? She remembered hearing it waft through the front hallways of the dingy polka house while she and Lip were having their screaming match over Fred. Ah, good memories.

Ian stepped closer to Mickey, and Tami promptly heard the pad of Mickey’s feet hitting the ground as he slid off of the kitchen countertop.

“Dance with me?”

“You’re fucking ridiculous,” Mickey breathed, and then they were silent. From where she was sitting, Tami could see Ian’s broad shoulders standing in front of where Mickey had been seated— his head was curled downward slightly, and Mickey was pinned close against him, his face pressed into the upper half of Ian’s shoulder.

Well, damn. Tami smirked to herself. I guess that security business has worked some magic after all.

Out of nowhere, Fred started to stir and wriggle in Tami’s lap.

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath. She didn’t really want to break up the sappy moment, but Freddie was definitely due for a diaper change and was going to be a fussy mess in about five seconds if she didn’t scoop him up right now.

She quickly rose from the lumpy couch, cradling the back of Fred’s head in her hands and beelining through kitchen doorway.

Instantly, Mickey nearly jumped out his skin when he saw Tami— he immediately detached himself from Ian’s shoulder and detangled himself from Ian’s arms. Ian just grinned sheepishly and leaned against the counter, letting Mickey ever-so-slightly slump against him.

Tami paused, taking the scene in and trying to hold back a knowing smile as Freddie fussed on her shoulder.

“The fuck’re you looking at?”

Mickey’s neck turned blotchy and flushed, and he darted his eyes to Freddie and then back to Tami.

Tami knew she had a sloped, sappy smile on her face. “Nothing. Just good to see you guys not ripping each other’s throats out for once.”

Mickey let out a slight breath, slumping back towards Ian’s chest even more— then he rolled his eyes, but the gesture was light and fond.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said dismissively. Ian was still practically beaming, and draped a hand across Mickey’s waist— and Tami watched as he slowly, slowly pressed a kiss to Mickey’s temple and Mickey’s posture immediately softened, like the air was being let out of him.

Wow. Okay. Guess the old Ian and Mickey are back.

Tami raised Freddie slightly onto her shoulder, then pushed past the two of them towards the back stairs, where Tami could hopefully go up and change her son’s shitty diaper in peace— and as she started to climb the stairs, she heard one final quip from Mickey:

“Your brother can’t sell this house fast enough, man.”

[baepsaesbae]

Heal Me, Kill Me Ch.5 (Final Chapter)

Pairing— Kim Taehyung x female reader

Genre— Vampire!Taehyung x Vampire Hunter!reader, SMUT +18, angst

Warnings— Unprotected explicit sex, fingering, blood mentions, death, oral (f and m receiving), creampie, overstimulation 

Word Count— 6.3k

Summary— You’re one of the best vampire hunters in the world. That’s to be expected when your parents are the best of the best. Your life had solely revolved around ruthlessly killing vampires, making you a cold blooded machine. However, things take a turn once you meet Kim Taehyung, your latest target.

A/N— Huge shoutout to @dee-ehn for this beautiful banner! Thank you to everyone who has given this series a read. It’s very special to me and it’s bittersweet that it’s now over. Please let me know what you guys think!

“Let me get this straight, the VEC HQ is completely gone? Wiped out?” you questioned as you tried to grasp the situation.

“Apparently they were hit with a massive ambush. A huge horde of vampires led under a single commander, it seemed like. I got a call during the middle of the raid. All I could hear were screams and the caller’s laugh. I was given a time and place for a meet up,” Yoongi explained further. 

“Perfect, let’s go burn the sons of bitches,” Jungkook got up energetically.

“There are only four of us,” Taehyung observed with a judgmental glance towards the young man. 

“There are only THREE VEC members left. The only reason you’re still alive is because ___ insisted on it. Mark my words, one slip up, and you’re dead. Got that?” Yoongi corrected him. Taehyung solemnly nodded. 

“So, what do we do? HQ is gone, but surely we can contact the other agencies around the globe,” you suggested.

“Already tried that. They saved the best for last. There is no one we can ask for help,” Jungkook shook his head. 

“I can go. Alone, I mean. To the rendezvous point you were given,” Taehyung offered. 

“And do what? Join forces with them?” Yoongi glared. 

“An attempt at diplomacy would be ideal. Should they choose violence, then so be it. If I die, I die. But at least you will be safe,” Taehyung looked at you while he said that last sentence. 

“Sounds good to me--”

“Absolutely not,” you interrupted Yoongi, “If we really are the last people qualified as vampire hunters, I say we go down swinging. I can’t just sit by knowing there are murderous vampires on the loose. We all took an oath to protect mankind. I intend to keep that oath.”

Yoongi and Jungkook exchanged looks. Jungkook was all for it, eager to let out his rage. It took a bit more to convince Yoongi, but he reluctantly agreed. He really took to heart what you said about the VEC oath.

“Here are the coordinates I was given. We have three days to get there,” Yoongi brought up the site on Google Earth.

“What the hell? That looks like an abandoned castle. That’s kind of badass. Major Castlevania vibes,” Jungkook gawked as he zoomed in closer.

“I know this place,” Taehyung said quietly. 

“You do?” the remaining VEC members asked in unison.

“I believe so. And if who I think is involved truly is involved...I fear we may be in deeper trouble than I thought,” he said ominously. 

“Fuckin terrific,” Yoongi grumbled. 

“Thank god Yoongi brought the private jet over here,” you sighed as you watched the trees below you grow smaller and smaller.

“Thank god I have the credit card for the VEC funds. I would be remiss if we lost all that money,” Yoongi called back using the intercom. 

“Flying via private jet is probably one of my favorite parts of the job. Hey, you good over there, Fangs?” Jungkook coined a nickname for his new vampire acquaintance. 

You looked over to see Taehyung’s face paler than usual as he tightly gripped the armrests of his seat. He slowly looked over towards the pair of you and nodded, though he was clearly lying. You couldn’t help but chuckle at him. His fear of flying was adorable, who would’ve known that an undead creature could be scared of planes?

“I’m gonna go join Yoongi in the cockpit, I love the view from there,” Jungkook said to no one in particular as he stood up once cruising altitude was reached. 

You unbuckled your seat belt and went over to comfort Taehyung, who looked queasier by the minute. You handed him a bottle of water.

“Sorry, we don’t have any blood bags on the plane,” you joked.

“I appreciate the gesture, darling,” Taehyung meekly smiled.

“I didn’t know you were scared of flying,” you said with an amused grin.

“I’ve never been a fan. People traveling in the air? It’s just not natural,” Taehyung shook his head in distaste.

“I don’t think you’re one to talk about what’s natural, but I get that. I wish there was a way I could get you to unwind. We have quite a long way to go before we reach our destination,” you straddled his lap and ran your fingers through his hair, “I can get off if you feel like you need to puke,” you quickly added.

“No, I think a distraction is exactly what I need,” Taehyung’s eyes darkened as he unbuckled his seat belt and gripped your hips.

Your hips began to move on their own as they grinded against him. You could feel his clothed erection growing under you, which only spurred you on more. Taehyung leaned forward to kiss you, and accidentally bit your lip in his excitement. He quickly lapped up the small dribble of blood that surfaced, and that alone seemed to make him more ravenous. Taehyung started to guide your hips, pushing you harder and faster against him.

“You want me?” Taehyung exhaled against your lips.

“I need you. Take off your pants, Tae,” you instructed as you climbed off of him.

“The others won’t intrude?” Tae asked with a smirk as he tugged down his pants.

“Yoongi is flying the jet, and I don’t give a fuck if Jungkook walks in on us,” you answered as you sank to your knees. 

You wasted no time in taking a firm hold of Taehyung cock. Your now ice cold hand caused Taehyung to shudder, a feeling he would now have to get used to. Luckily, the friction from your quick pumping warmed him back up, and he was able to fully enjoy himself. How could he not, when he sees your eager eyes gazing up at him with your lips wrapped around his tip. Your tongue swirled around his sensitive head, making a small moan escape from his lips.

“You have to be quiet, or else I’ll stop,” you warned him. It felt good to hold somewhat of a dominant position over him, but also you would rather not be walked in on. Taehyung nodded his head and licked his lips as you returned to the task at hand. 

Drool dripped down his long cock as you bobbed your head up and down. You tried to fit as much of him in your mouth as you could, but his sheer size made it damn near impossible. Taehyung couldn’t help himself as he grabbed the back of your head and shoved his dick further down your throat. You gagged as he took control of your mouth, but he stopped as soon as he saw tears welling in your eyes.

“I’m sorry darling, did I hurt you?” he asked with concern as he stroked your cheek.

“I’m fine, it’s an involuntary reaction. You’re too sweet,” you smiled as you stood up and unbuttoned your pants, “But since you made me cry I guess it’s only fair for you to make it up to me.”

You straddled over Taehyung, teasing your bare pussy over his hard cock. You wanted him to feel how wet you were before he even penetrated you. As much as you wanted to milk this moment, you really would rather for Jungkook to NOT walk in on you in the middle of getting down and dirty. 

You slowly lowered yourself onto Taehyung’s dick, softly gasping as he stretched you out. You both let out a blissful sigh once you reached his base. You took your time fucking him slowly, as this was one of the few times that you had control in an intimate setting. Taehyung gripped your hips harshly; his eyes begged for you to go faster. Lust took over and you gave in. You began to ride him harder and faster, and soon it was a struggle for both of you to stay quiet. 

Lewd wet sounds echoed around the cabin as you hid your face in the crook of Taehyung's neck at a poor attempt to muffle your moans. Taehyung in turn could barely hold back his deep grunts since he took control with a tight grip on your ass as he fucked upwards into you. With Taehyung drilling into your sweet spot with inhumane speed, the intensity made you clamp down on his neck hard enough to draw blood. Taehyung came quickly after you bit him, releasing his load into your ravaged pussy. 

You licked at his wound, his blood only adding to the euphoria pulsing around your body. Taehyung kissed you passionately before you hopped off in search of napkins to clean yourself off with. The sound of the cockpit door opening sent you and Taehyung into a frenzy. Clothes were put back on in record time and you both were sitting properly in your respective seats when Jungkook came to rejoin you.

“You’re looking better, Fangs,” Jungkook observed. 

“I just needed some time to adjust,” Taehyung said smoothly. 

“You guys know we have cameras and microphones rigged around this cabin right? And it’s all viewable from the cockpit?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow.

Taehyung’s eyes grew large and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Neither of you could make eye contact with Jungkook, who was looking at both of you expectantly. 

“This is why I do not appreciate modern technology. Personal privacy is a thing of the past,” Taehyung confessed.

Jungkook burst out into a fit of laughter, clutching at his sides as he tried to talk.

“I was fucking with you. I mean yeah there are cameras and shit but security is in the back and gets sent directly to HQ. Which no longer exists. Fuck, you guys are so horny,” Jungkook laughed.

“Fuck off Jungkook,” you rolled your eyes and turned away to hide your reddened cheeks. 

“How’s it feel being part of the Mile High Club?” Jungkook slung his arms around Taehyung’s shoulders from behind. 

“I am assuming that has something to do with intercourse in the sky?” Taehyung questioned. Jungkook nodded excitedly.

“In that case, I rather enjoyed it,” Taehyungn concluded thoughtfully.

“Tae! You don’t have to indulge this idiot,” you cried out.

“Thanks for being honest. Yoongi and I made a bet. He’s gonna be so pissed,” Jungkook sing songed as he walked back towards the cockpit.

You and Taehyung quietly listened as you heard Jungkook say, “Hey Yoongi, time to cough up that $200!”

“Are you fucking kidding me? What the hell ___! God dammit,” Yoongi exclaimed loud enough to be heard clearly through the door (and with your heightened sense of hearing).  

The decrepit castle basked in the pale moonlight as the four of you peered at it through the bushes. The rest of the plane ride was awkward and Yoongi hadn’t been able to make eye contact with you since. He kept shooting death glares at Taehyung while Jungkook kept making funny faces at the both of you. You sighed knowing odds were that the castle was filled with bloodthirsty vampires guarding the strongest one of them all, and the only ones going up against them was your ragtag team. You suddenly made peace with dying...again. 

“So what’s the plan again?” Jungkook asked.

“I can go and try to reason with them. If you hear the sounds of an altercation then that would indicate your cue to join the fight,” Taehyung offered.

“I’m not risking you turning over to their side just to screw us over,” Yoongi sneered. 

“Yoongi he wouldn’t--”

“That’s reasonable. What other plan do we have then?” Taehyung interrupted your oncoming protest.  

“We go all at once. A cool final last stand thing. The grand finale. I don’t want to go into hiding and spend the rest of my life trying to pick these suckers off one by one. They’re all here. Or at least, the one that matters most anyway,” Jungkook gave his input, “Oh, but you matter to me, Fangs,” he shot a smile at Taehyung, who gave him a small polite bow to show his gratitude. 

“So we go in guns blazing?” you asked to sum up the plan. The men all nodded in agreement. It was now or never. Jungkook was right, this was a prime opportunity to take out the ring leader. 

All of you sported long black trench coats that concealed many weapons. Guns with blessed bullets, blessed blades, and water guns filled with holy water (Jungkook’s favorite) were among the vast assortment. You subtly left out wearing crucifixes as you normally would, hoping that no one would notice. Taehyung didn’t need any fancy weaponry, but Jungkook gave him a coat so that he could “match the team in its kickassery”. 

Yoongi was staring at something in his hand away from the others. You approached him slowly. You didn’t know what to say to him on the potential last night of your lives, but you hoped something would come to mind.

“Whatcha got there?” you questioned, peering over his shoulder. 

“An old picture. Have you ever seen this before? Here,” Yoongi handed you the picture. It was old, and the camera quality was not the greatest. However, you were able to make out a smiling Yoongi off to the side.

“Wow you look the same,” you joked.

“This was my VEC graduation picture. See anyone else you know?” he asked. You examined the picture a second time.

“Mom and dad…” you trailed off. They were practically strangers to you. It was odd seeing them like this; young and happy, not knowing their grim future. Before you knew it, you were crying. You didn’t realize it until Yoongi called your name with concern.

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s going on,” you apologized while wiping your tears away, “I guess I just don’t want to lose you too.

“I couldn’t bear to lose you either, ___. I promise I’ll do everything I can to protect you. But knowing you, you’ll probably be the one saving my old ass,” Yoongi chuckled as he patted you on the back.

“Guys! We gotta go!” Jungkook beckoned.

If this were a movie, the scene where the main characters walk in slow motion like badasses towards the enemy would be playing. However, this was not a movie, and you were scared shitless. Sure, you technically were a vampire now, but that won’t stop them from killing you again. 

“I know I said this place was cool before, but now it’s giving me the creeps,” Jungkook whispered as you all followed the rugged path that led to the stone bridge in front of the main gate.

The once grand door was now ripped off its hinges, laying a few yards away from the entryway as if it was carelessly cast aside. You took a deep breath as you followed Taehyung into the castle. Beams of moonlight illuminated the castle in rays as it shone through cracks and holes in the walls. The castle was oddly bare, most of its belongings were probably looted a long time ago. All that was left was memories of the past that no one cared about and a few rats that have lived there for decades. 

Your party made it to what must have been the throne room. There was not a single sign of life. It was eerily quiet, and the only movements you saw were those of the vermin that dwelled within the decaying walls. The throne room was dark, and Jungkook led the way with a single lighter. 

“What the hell? Is this place really empty--”

“Welcome, honored guests!” a loud voice boomed as braziers suddenly lit up the room. 

You cowered at the sudden brightness. Once your eyes adjusted, you saw a single figure sitting in the throne at the front of the room. One of his legs was slung over an armrest as he rested his chin on his hand over the other. He depicted a spitting image of a cocky King drunk on power. 

“I’m so thrilled you all could join me this evening. Oh, what’s this? An old friend? How serendipitous,” he sat up straight now as he leaned forward to get a better look at his visitors. 

“Why did you summon us here?” Yoongi cut right to the chase. 

“Very blunt and straight to the point are we? You must be the failed VEC’s headmaster. Min Yoongi, was it? I wanted to talk business. But I must say, this is a rather odd bunch you have here,” the man chuckled, “Are you aware that there are vampyres amongst your company?”

“Yes, this one--wait, vampires? With an ‘s’?” Yoongi’s face scrunched up in confusion. 

“Oh yes, that girl over there,” the strange man gestured towards you with his chin.

“What?!” Yoongi yelled with incredulity, “Taehyung, if we get out of here alive I’m gonna murder you myself!”

“It was my decision! I asked him to do it!” you admitted while jumping in front of Taehyung to protect him from a furious Min Yoongi. 

“Hah, I knew it,” Jungkook said with a devious grin.

“You know what? I’ll beat all of your asses after this,” Yoongi hissed before turning his attention back to the man on the throne, “Anyway, what do you want?”

“I simply wanted to negotiate with you Mr. Min. But I believe we’re all in for a rather interesting night,” the man licked his lips, “Tell me, how long has it been, Taehyung?”

In an instant, Taehyung was strangling the man on the throne. He was so fast that you didn’t even register his movement until you heard him yelling.

“You bastard! You ruined my life! Over and over again! Now I can finally kill you with my own hands,” he growled with a murderous look in his eyes that you have never seen before. 

“Taehyung stop! You’ll have your chance with him, but for now we need answers,” you pulled Taehyung away as Jungkook put the vampire in blessed restraints. 

“Ouch, that hurts,” the vampire pouted, “Still just as dramatic as ever I see, Taehyung. I like your spark though. Almost the same as the night we met, all those years ago.”

“I will kill you,” Taehyung threatened. 

“What did this guy do to you, Fangs?” Jungkook asked.

“He’s the one that turned me,” Taehyung admitted. 

“Can you believe that? It feels like it was just yesterday when I slaughtered your little village. How silly was it that all the men were in the tavern, drinking and fucking whores while their families were left unattended. That didn’t sit right by me, I’m a man of morals. So I killed everyone in the tavern after I had my fill of lonely housewives and innocent children. Except Taehyung. He was the only man who was ever able to put a scratch on me. I forgot I could even bleed, it was honestly a refreshing sight. In the spur of the moment, I rewarded him with eternal life. Could you believe my surprise when he said he didn’t want to be my henchman?” the detained vampire explained. 

“You killed my family and everyone that I knew! Of course I wouldn’t want to be your stupid sidekick, you daft idiot,” Taehyung rebuttled in disgust.

“It was a shame. Poor sweet Maggie didn’t deserve what happened to her,” the vampire looked down at the ground somberly.

“You...you did what?” Taehyung interrogated with a shaky voice. 

“I managed to catch a glimpse of you and your happy life in London. Excuse me for being a little petty about you declining my offer to be my travel buddy. I get lonely, you know. Every other vampire I turn becomes such a drag and I end up killing them myself. So I gave a little tip to the VEC and the rest is history,” the vampire shrugged. 

“Hoseok you snake! You’re the scum of the Earth! I’ll tear your throat out,” Taehyung screamed as he shook off Jungkook and lunged at the captured vampire. Taehyung slashed a giant gash in the middle of Hoseok’s chest, spewing blood everywhere.

“If I die, so do they,” Hoseok said nonchalantly as Taehyung was about to sink his fangs into his jugular. That made Taehyung reluctantly pause and shrink back.

“Taehyung, you can have the honor of killing this piece of shit after I’m done talking to him,” Yoongi stated, “Your name is Hoseok?”

“Jung Hoseok, at your service. I’m thinking of J-Hope as a street name if I decide to make my dancing skills public. Not to brag, but I’m also the strongest vampire to ever live. I normally don’t bleed this much, it’s embarrassing,” Hoseok looked away bashfully as blood flowed freely from his chest.

“Why did you say that if you die we die?” Yoongi asked with urgency. 

“Well because there are roughly 100 vampires who haven’t fed in a month waiting at my command. My dominion over them is the only thing keeping you safe. With me gone, they’ll be free from their invisible leashes,” Hoseok smiled.

“Nothing is stopping us from dragging your sorry ass away from here,” Jungkook snarled.

“You think they’ll idly sit by and watch their master be whisked away in shackles? I can tell who wasn’t top of their class,” Hoseok giggled. 

“What was the deal you had in mind?” Yoongi kept up his stoic act.  

“Total immunity. I’ll even have all 100 henchmen kill themselves as a show of good faith,” Hoseok flashed a sly smile. 

“No can do, I already promised Taehyung he could kill you,” Yoongi sighed.

“Is he part of the VEC? The deal would have to last for the rest of eternity between me and the VEC. If I die in a vampire fight then that’s on me,” Hoseok tilted his head in confusion. 

“Give me a minute to discuss this with my colleagues,” Yoongi said before leading you and Jungkook to the opposite side of the room, “What do we do? His offer seems too good to be true.”

“It seems fair since he said he’d kill off his henchman on his own. I’m sure Taehyung can kick his ass,” Jungkook added. 

“And if Tae loses? Then we have nothing that’ll stop him from killing us. It’s too risky. I don’t trust him one bit,” you concluded. 

“We can’t possibly win against him plus 100 starving vampires. We’ll be dead meat in seconds,” Yoongi argued. 

Meanwhile, Taehyung looked down in disgust at Hoseok as they had their own conversation.

“I think we were fated to be together. I never thought you’d be here,” Hoseok batted his eyes at Taehyung.

“You’re lucky they’re here to stop me. Otherwise you’d regret letting me live,” Taehyung snapped.

“So why are you here? I’m guessing it has something to do with that girl. Don’t tell me, did you turn her?” Hoseok’s eyes grew large, “Wow, you’ve grown stronger than I could have hoped! If we combine our powers we can rule this world.”

“You’re delusional if you think I’d join you after all of this.”

“Then I’ll enjoy tearing apart your plaything in front of your eyes,” Hoseok smirked. 

“If you lay a finger on her then I’ll--”

“We’ll accept your terms after a few more clarifications,” Yoongi interrupted, “First of all, we don’t think we can trust you. After all, you wiped out the VEC HQ. I have no doubt that the global branches have fallen as well. There’s nothing stopping you from killing us as soon as we let you free.”

“We both know that you never would have agreed to meet with me if I hadn’t done anything drastic. I needed to get rid of the grunts to get to the King, simple as that. Believe me, if I wanted you dead you all would have been slain the moment your fancy plane landed,” Hoseok shrugged.

“Then why did you let us live? Why go through the trouble?” Jungkook questioned.

“For the drama of it all, dear boy. When you get to be as old as I am, living gets boring. I’m not sure if you could tell, but I live for theatrics and thrill. Oh and I’m planning on taking over the world or whatever,” Hoseok admitted happily. 

“And you think we’d let you get away with that?” Yoongi scoffed.

“I’m simply offering you a little peace offering. Of course I wouldn’t hurt you three, and you’re all welcome to kill any vampires that come across your path. It’s more of a mutual immunity actually. This benefits you people more than me. If you disagree, you’re dead anyway,” Hoseok smiled wide enough to show off his fangs.

“Fine. The VEC accepts your terms. You have my word that the VEC will never harm you,” Yoongi declared, “But first, we must see your troops fall with our own eyes.”

“Pleasure doing business with you, I knew you’d be smart. And that’s fair,” Hoseok whistled and the ground began to rumble as an army of vampires came running into the throne room. 

The soldiers made orderly lines and awaited their orders. Some of them salivated at the sight of your party, but they didn’t dare move an inch without permission. They were the most ravenous vampires you’ve ever seen, and would want to avoid fighting them at all cost.

“My dear underlings. You have all served me well. You’ll be in my heart as I create a new world. I ask one last thing of you. Rip out your own heart to show your devotion to me. May your souls rest in peace,” Hoseok gave a short uninspiring speech.

You watched in horror as the army chanted “Long Live Hoseok” along with random whoops and hollers. They were extremely lively and hyped up as they plunged their own fists into their chests. Fountains of red erupted across the room as they ripped out their own hearts. You let out a sigh of relief as you watched the last soldier fall. 

“That was wild,” Jungkook said with a deer in headlights expression. 

“Really makes you feel something huh? A deals a deal,” Hoseok chirped up expectantly. 

Hoseok was tackled to the ground as soon as he was released. Taehyung yelled with fury as he reopened the nearly healed gash he inflicted earlier. Hoseok reacted by hurling Taehyung into the opposite wall. 

“I haven’t had a real fight in ages. Don’t disappoint me, Taehyung,” Hoseok laughed as he spat out blood.

A rock was hurled at incredible speed from where Taehyung landed. Hoseok was quick enough to dodge the rock, but not Taehyung. Once again, the vampires were on the ground and Taehyung was aiming for Hoseok’s throat. Jungkook shot a blessed bullet into Hoseok’s leg, causing him to howl out in pain.

Hoseok tossed Taehyung aside with newfound strength as his eyes glowed red. He set his sights on Jungkook and his lips curled up into an evil smile.

“You dare to break the contract, boy? I’m gonna make you regret that,” Hoseok warned.

Another blessed bullet lodged itself into Hoseok’s back, making him crumple to the ground. He turned in distress to see you wielding the gun with a cocky smirk plastered on your face. Yoongi kicked him onto his back, and spat in his face. With a quick motion of his arm, a wooden stake peeked out of the opening of his sleeve. With a yell, he plunged the wooden stake into Hoseok’s chest.

“Filthy liars,” Hoseok sputtered as blood dribbled down his chin.

“We agreed that the VEC would never harm you. However, you singlehandedly dismantled the company and the establishment is no more. I was the headmaster, but now I’m just a jobless son of a bitch,” Yoongi said triumphantly as he pushed the stake deeper.  

“We did it Yoongles!” you cheered before you heard the sounds of bones breaking. The smile dropped from your face instantly as you zipped over to Yoongi.

“An eye for an eye. Well played, Mr. Min Yoongi,” Hoseok croaked with his hand buried in Yoongi’s chest.

Taehyung quickly decapitated Hoseok with a strong kick. Hoseok’s body turned to dust as his head rolled across the floor for a few seconds before it also reverted to nothingness. 

“Yoongi! Yoongi!” you cried as you cradled him in your arms. Warm blood gushed out of his chest as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Jungkook sank to his knees beside you and held onto Yoongi’s hand. 

“Taehyung, go start up the jet! We have to get him to a hospital!” you demanded with tears running down your cheeks.

“He doesn’t know how to,” Jungkook said softly, trying to comfort you.

“We have to help him!” you sobbed. 

“___,” Yoongi whispered weakly. 

“Shhh, you’ll be okay. Don’t speak,” you begged. 

“Love...you...Be...happy…,” Yoongi rasped before gagging on his own blood. 

You and Jungkook cried over Yoongi’s body for a long time after it had gone cold. Jungkook held you as you cried into his chest as you soiled his clothes with tears and snot. To be fair, his tears and snot ended up all over your hair. Taehyung wanted to comfort you, but he knew Jungkook was a better fit for this job. Afterall, Yoongi was special to both of you. He was the parent neither of you had, and always took care of you guys in his own special way. 

After the sobs subsided, you and Jungkook stared blankly at the body before you. You’ve always been surrounded by death, it never bothered you. You didn’t need emotions in this line of work. You never thought you could feel pain like this. 

“He was a hero. I’m sorry for your loss,” Taehyung finally spoke as he placed a hand on both of your shoulders to show his condolences.

“Thanks, Tae.”

“Thanks, Fangs,” both you and Jungkook said in unison. 

Yoongi was buried outside of the castle, in the clearing where the private jet landed. There were no fancy rituals or blessings. Only a few words of gratitude uttered by both you and Jungkook. It was still too soon to say much more before either of you would start crying again. The feelings were there, and that’s all that mattered. 

The sun began to rise as the three of you sat inside the private jet in silence. You were lost. The VEC was truly no more. The biggest vampire threat (that you weren’t even aware of until a few days prior) was defeated.  Now what?

“What are you going to do now?” you asked Jungkook. 

“No clue. I guess I’ll travel. I have nothing else to do,” he shrugged, “What about you guys?”

“I think I want to open up a flower shop,” you said absentmindedly.

“A flower shop? Like the one Yoongi set up for you?” Jungkook was confused. 

“Yeah. I can either try to make that one work or start up my own elsewhere. I don’t know. I just think that would...make me happy,” you answered softly.

“Would you like some help with that?” Taehyung asked as he interlocked his fingers with yours. 

“Who else is gonna teach me how to make such beautiful bouquets? Plus I don’t have a green thumb so I’ll need you to help keep the plants alive until we can sell them,” you answered and squeezed Taehyung’s hand. 

“It’ll suck now that we don’t have a job but--wait,” Jungkook scrolled on his phone, “___, check your bank account.” 

You stared in disbelief at the obscene amount of extra zeros that had magically appeared in your balance. Yoongi must have transferred what was left of the VEC funds to you and Jungkook at some point. Thinking about Yoongi looking out for you one final time made you tear up again. 

“I’ll drop you guys off wherever you want. I’m assuming neither of you know how to fly so I’m calling dibs on the private jet,” Jungkook stood up.

“Bold of you to assume I don’t have a piloting license, but you can take it since Taehyung hates flying,” you rolled your eyes at Jungkook before continuing, “Tae do you want to go back to your estate?”

“We don’t have to. I like the idea of starting anew,” Taehyung smiled.

“How does Paris sound?” you offered. 

“C’est magnifique. I’m sure we’ll find a way to start a successful flower shop there,” Taehyung nodded in agreement. 

It had been five years since the VEC was destroyed. You never knew what a normal life was like, but now you wouldn’t trade it for the world. Sure, your new “normal” still technically wasn’t normal since you needed to consume blood to live and the sun was your mortal enemy, but you made it work. 

Business was booming. “Min’s Blossoms” was the name of your flower shop, and every day was an adventure. Having Taehyung as your business partner proved to be more beneficial than you thought. Other than his floral expertise, his appearance is what really got the business off the ground. Apparently, rumors of a mysterious and handsome man who worked at a local flower shop were being spread around the city. Women flocked to the store to catch a glimpse of Taehyung, and soon they all started buying flowers just for a chance to talk to him. Taehyung was worried that that might upset you, but you reassured him that you were happy that the store was doing so well so early on.

Now Min’s Blossoms had become part of the Paris landscape along with all the other little fancy boutiques. Taehyung was in charge of putting together orders, while you handled most of the business side. Your teamwork was impeccable and made even the busiest days enjoyable. 

“Are you happy?” Taehyung asked one morning while in bed.

“Honestly, I didn’t think it was possible to be this happy,” you rolled over to kiss his forehead.

“Do you ever miss your old life?” he prodded.

“Why so many questions today? As much as I loved brutally murdering monsters and constantly putting my life on the line, I would say no. This life is more pleasant. How ironic is it that I had to die in order to truly live,” you stared off into the distance as you uttered that last sentence.

“My apologies, I only wanted to ask since I know you tend to get pensive during this time of the year,” Taehyung stroked your cheek. 

“Thanks for always being so sweet to me. I love you, Tae,” you whisper before leaning in for a kiss. 

What started as an innocent kiss soon turned into something more tainted when your hand found its way to Taehyung’s already hard cock (who knew vampires can still get morning wood?). He didn’t let you take the lead as he pushed you flat on your back and pressed his thigh against your cunt. You giggled as he kissed a trail down your neck and over your collarbones as he fondled your breasts. He latched his mouth onto one of your breasts and his tongue swirled around your nipple as his free hand ripped off your panties. 

Taehyung’s fingers slipped inside you easily since you were already sopping wet for him. He smirked as the curl of his fingers made you moan and squirm beneath him. Taehyung pulled away from your breast with a satisfying “pop” and slid down to face your bare pussy. He licked shallow stripes along your folds to tease you, and let out a low chuckle when you whined for more. He placed a finger on your clit and started to rub it rapidly, not giving you any time to adjust to the intense sensation. It only took a few seconds before you were moaning and shaking at his touch.

Taehyung wasn’t finished. He went back to eating you out while pumping two fingers inside of you. The overstimulation had you seeing stars. You cried out as you came again, drenching his chin with your juices. Taehyung gave you a satisfactory grin as he rose from between your legs to align his dick with your dripping pussy.

You groaned as he filled you up. He went slow at first, his eyes closed with pleasure. You gazed at him fondly while he fucked you. He was so beautiful even when your cum was on his chin and his sweaty hair was stuck to his forehead. Taehyung opened his eyes and looked down at you with a smile. He leaned forward to kiss you once more as he snapped his hips against you. 

“You’re gonna make fun of me for cumming so soon. But I can’t help it when you’re wetter than usual,” he panted as his strokes became sloppier. 

“I won’t complain, you already made me cum this morning, now it’s your turn,” you answered between moans. Taehyung grunted as he came inside of you, his hot semen filling you up. He gave you one final kiss before collapsing beside you. 

“You know, you never told me how I saved your life,” you said after a while.

“Hmm?” Taehyung hummed.

“You mentioned it the night you turned me,” you clarified. 

“Ah, yes. My life had been meaningless for a long time before you came. For a while I was contemplating on ending it myself. But you came along and rescued me. You gave me purpose again,” he explained.

“Wow. Not to be cheesy, but you did the same for me. Honestly my life was mundane before you,” you blushed.

“Surely the best vampire hunter in the world led an exciting life,” Taehyung teased. 

“I suppose I did, but I would take a lifetime with you over it any day,” you smiled, “I love you, my little vampire.”

“I love you too, ___. There’s no one else I’d rather spend eternity with.”

Published December 14, 2020. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2020 Baepsaesbae.

[gumnut-logic]

Callisto (Arrival - Bit 2)

Prologue Incident - Bit 1 | Bit 2 Fallout - Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 Voyage - Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 Arrival - Bit 1 | Bit 2

Well, these posts seem to be getting longer. I’m pondering if I should make them shorter and more often.

As always, many thanks to @tsarinatorment​ @scribbles97​ @janetm74​ and @onereyofstarlight​ for their amazing support and who without putting up with my crazy this fic would likely not exist.

We are finally there and things can start happening. Wow, planning makes for longer fics apparently.

I hope you enjoy it ::hugs you all::

-o-o-o-

As the rest of the family exited the cockpit, Michael watched John deploy the last of the long chain of communication buoys into orbit around Callisto and held his breath.

The space monitor was frowning at his console as they both waited for that final connection to click into place.

A moment and John’s face relaxed.

And Michael with it.

His own board flashed up with a connection confirmed through the chained micro-tunnel drives.

John hit his comms. “Tracy Island, this is Thunderbird Excel. Do you copy?”

They waited.

A heartbeat.

“Thunderbird Excel this is Tracy Island. Great to hear your voice, John.” Even Michael could hear the smile in Kayo’s voice. “I have a lot of green and pretty lights here. Send me the tests and I will bounce them back.”

“Sending now.” John’s fingers darted across his board and Michael watched the system take on the workload and churn data all the way back to Earth. “And I must say, Kayo, it is lovely to hear your voice, too.”

“Looking forward to hearing yours often. Data incoming. Will apprise results.”

“Looking forward to it, Thunderbird Excel out.” John’s fingers flicked again and the comms signal closed.

“Thunderbird Excel?” Michael arched an eyebrow at the astronaut.

John shrugged. “Well, I think she’s earned it now, don’t you?”

“Mmmm.” He looked back down at his board. The thought of having contributed to creating an actual Thunderbird...

He was startled when a shadow passed over his hands. “You’ve done well, Michael. Thank you.”

He looked up at the red-headed Tracy floating beside him. John was an enigma. He was a brother like any Tracy, but unlike the eldest who hated him with a passion that saw no border, John was quiet, even kind. Michael had been working alongside Brains and John and occasionally the youngest, for over a year now, and while he doubted he and John would ever be close friends, there was a mutual respect.

Plus, the distinct feeling that if Michael ever laid a finger on any of John’s brothers ever again, he would not survive the attempt.

It was definitely the quiet ones who should be worried about.

Not to mention Eos.

Michael really wished he could get his hands on that piece of code.

But again, he felt that it would be his last action in this universe.

Not that John had ever threatened him.

He didn’t need to.

“Are you feeling okay?” Turquoise eyes were peering down at him.

“I am well. No need to worry.”

The astronaut smiled. “Good. Monitor the comm network and liaise with Brains regarding the T-Drive’s performance. Let’s see if we can cut down on the jumps on the way back. I’d prefer to go through as little of the nausea as possible.”

“Agreed.”

John arched an eyebrow and his lips curled up. “I’ll be in Thunderbird Five assessing the danger zone and coordinating with Thunderbird Three.”

“FAB.”

The astronaut stared at him for just an extra moment longer before pushing off Michael’s console and throwing himself towards the cockpit exit.

“Thank you, John.”

A flicker of a smile and the last Tracy disappeared through the door, leaving Michael alone.

-o-o-o-

Virgil hated the IR spacesuits. They were far too tight and left nothing to the imagination.

Also, the red baldrics clashed horribly with his green stripe enough to rip his eyeballs out.

But although his standard uniform was satisfactory for short forays into space, it was not enough for a space mission of this magnitude as it did not have the survival and safety mechanisms needed in an emergency. So, here he was dressed like some kind of spandex wearing superhero, his heavy lifting muscles providing a great anatomy lesson to any within eyesight.

“Looking good, Virg.” Gordon’s eyes were laughing.

“Shut up, Fish.” The aquanaut was used appearing all but naked in front of thousands. Hell, Virgil had nothing to be ashamed of, it was just difficult to keep a straight face in a professional capacity.

How the hell John lived in one of these things was a mystery Virgil had no interest in exploring.

The alternative was wearing something like Alan’s spacesuit, but that had its own issues regarding his exosuit and despite the...exposure, this was the best option.

At least he had a little security with the addition of his exosuit support padding and his harness – never leave home without it. That and his baldric covered a little of his modesty.

Didn’t stop his brothers’ comments though.

Alan actually snorted in laughter.

Scott raised an eyebrow, but then their commander was dressed the same and, much like John, was giving the Greek gods a run for their money in the process.

Virgil felt like a dwarf from The Lord of the Rings. What was his name? Gam? Gim? Gimli? Standing next to that bleached elf.

Virgil grunted. “Let’s do this, already.”

Okay, the grin on Scott’s face was both worth it and damned annoying.

Dad had chosen a version similar to Alan’s suit. Due to his health concerns, Virgil had recommended extra support with arm guards and greaves built into his boots. He had glared at Virgil, but Virgil was a Tracy and just as stubborn as his father and if he wanted to go on this mission he could damn well meet him halfway.

Dad wore the protection.

They had Uncle Lee’s ‘space skivvies’ measurements on file and the IR fabricators had churned out an IR uniform echoing their father’s. Considering the astronaut’s skillset, Virgil had coloured his baldric stripe as green as his own and thrown in some of his own kit.

The colour combination still ripped out eyeballs.

Thunderbird Three was nestled into the Excel much like she had been into the XL, but higher up, leaving the massive thrusters behind her and nestling instead of providing the main superstructure of the craft.

To compensate for the loss of One and Two, the Excel now had a third engine on her dorsal plane to offset the two massive pectoral lightspeed engines. Together the three engines provided the huge ion thrust needed to propel them vast distances. And when the T-Drive was required, the third would go dark, the original two engines would flare up and give him his next case of nausea.

Three still connected with Five for extra stability, but she was no longer mandatory for the Excel. Where the XL had basically been an exosuit for Three to break the lightspeed barrier, the Excel was now more Five’s exosuit as she was the one Thunderbird the Excel needed to operate at her best.

Johnny’s ‘bird now had wings.

Very, very big ones.

The cockpit was crowded but quiet as Alan smoothly disengaged Three from the bigger craft, spinning her in space and pointing her towards the moon.

Virgil shifted in his suit, uncomfortable as hell. Not enough to be world ending, but annoying. Beside him, his father glanced in his direction with a concerned frown.

“Are you okay, son?”

That, of course, prompted an equally concerned frown from Scott in front of him.

“I’m fine.” It wasn’t a complete lie, he could live with the suit. His arm was still aching and his stomach had yet to forgive him despite the food he had shoved into it, but he could probably get away with that.

The worst of it was the lack of sleep.

Scott’s eyes were far too knowing.

The medic in him knew that they were going into a potentially dangerous situation. Hell, they were in space right now, not exactly Tracy Island’s pool patio for relaxation. They needed to be alert and ready.

He had tried to sleep. He had sent all of his brothers to nap during the voyage out here. But he doubted any of them managed much.

He certainly hadn’t.

Scott knew because Virgil could see it reflected in those blue eyes of his. He still looked worn, though he tried to hide it, ever the professional.

Dad.

Dad was still looking at him with questioning eyes.

Virgil sighed. “I’m just tired. I can manage.”

Those lips pressed together, obviously displeased.

Typical.

His father was so like Scott in so many ways that having both of them to contend with on this mission was going to send Virgil grey.

It was okay for them to go out on a limb, risk their lives for the greater good, but if someone they cared about did the same, they were all worry and you can’t do that.

As if to emphasize that thought, his father’s frown fixated on Scott. Virgil followed his gaze, but from his angle could only see the back of his brother’s head.

Another glance at his father and the concern was clearly there.

Perhaps something was starting to sink into Dad’s head. Maybe he was realising what he was risking.

Who he was risking.

Three shook a little as she breached the minimal atmosphere of the moon. Alan was muttering orbital calculations. Each large planetary body was different and required a catered approach.

The Base had sent vectors and the conditions that constituted ‘weather’ on the barren moon, but there were many firsts in this mission and this was one of them.

For the benefit of the rest of them, Alan threw up a hologram of their approach.

The massive crater known as Asgard swelled on the screen. It was very bright, even in the weak sunlight. Probably ice. To the north of it lay an even brighter splash of white, rays extending out across the heavily cratered surface for miles.

As they sank, the horizon formed in a sharper curve than Virgil was used to. Sharper than Mars which was the only other planetary body beyond Earth’s Moon Virgil had ever set foot on.

“There it is.” Alan, ever enthusiastic in his element, pointed out a spot quickly growing on the display. “Callisto Base.”

It was a white cross with a massive airlock at its centre. Surrounding the arms of the cross was machinery, storage tanks and energy production facilities. It shone ever so bright, like a blunted star plastered on the side of the moon.

As they drew closer, the Tracy Industries logo could be seen branded across the airlock doors.

The base was a massive endeavour. Almost entirely underground taking advantage of a small crater in the Doh crater wall, it had capped the landform and sealed off the space creating a series of caverns to house the transport ships moving between the Base and the Jefferson or any other destination they chose.

Entirely self-sufficient, TI’s hydrogen technology gave it power, TI’s heavy duty excavation equipment gave them the power to dig the base out of the rock and ice. It had helped to find unexpected caves under the surface. All and all the Base was a robust structure, protecting its fifty-odd inhabitants from the hazards of living on an exposed and radiated moon.

“Callisto Base, Thunderbird Three requesting permission to dock.” Virgil was suddenly irrationally proud of his little brother.

Commander Walters answered immediately. “Permission granted Thunderbird Three. Hold in the airlock for repressurisation and permission to proceed.”

“FAB, Callisto Base.”

“One of these days, Jeff, you are going to tell me what that means.”

Both Alan and their father snorted.

As they approached, the big airlock doors slowly began to open, splitting the TI logo in half. The hologram stayed fixed on their destination, but Three pivoted her nose to the darkness of the sky bringing the ever-hovering presence of Jupiter back into view through Three’s windows. Alan flicked a wrist and the Thunderbird started lowering into what was now a gaping maw below.

Three slipped into the airlock and the doors closed behind them.

-o-o-o-

Alan was a professional, but he had to admit that he was internally bouncing around in joy. The air was still thick with tension, his family caught up in this thing with Dad, but Alan was doing his best to ignore it and focus on his job.

And oh my god, he was landing on his second moon of Jupiter! This had to be a first. He could go down in history as the first person to land on several moons, another planet and multiple random comets and asteroids.

Okay, so Virg and Scott had been with him, even Gordon on Europa – that had been one hell of a mission that still gave him both dreams and nightmares – but he had been the only one to land on all of them.

Alan Tracy, astronaut extraordinaire. He couldn’t help but grin as the airlock repressurised and the Callisto Commander finally gave him permission to land.

He slowed his ‘bird to a perfect touchdown as the secondary airlock doors closed above him.

He killed her engines and let her begin her cool down sequence.

The whole cockpit sighed a little in relief. A pause as if to reset and then everyone was moving.

-o-o-o-

Gray Walters rubbed the back of his neck as Thunderbird Three coasted smoothly from the decontaminating airlock into the main hangar. The pilot of that ‘bird had to be a Tracy. The huge red rocket barely fit nose to tail with only inches to spare between the two massive sets of doors. After all, they had never expected such a large craft needing to dock.

He had Kate to thank for arguing the hangar’s size...with Ju backing her up as usual.

The thought of his wife froze him for a split second. Ju was going to be okay. Jeff was here now. He had always been their good luck charm. Hell, the guy had survived eight years in space alone. Ju could manage a few days.

Couldn’t she?

“She’s docked.” Mary, his second, looked up from her station. “Shall I shunt her into a bay?”

“Leave her in central for now. We’re not going anywhere and they may need to leave in a hurry.”

“That will piss Benji off.”

“Benji can stew. His team still has a week left of their Jefferson rotation.”

“He will cite regs.”

Gray turned away. Let him cite regs. “This is an emergency and takes priority.” He sighed. “Run decon in the central core. Anyone not crucial to this operation is to steer clear of International Rescue. Lock off environmental systems. Keep the two crews contained to keep the risk of contamination as low as possible. We can’t afford an accidental bug in the system.”

“Will do.” She paused before bringing up the topic he knew she would. “What about Jeremiah?”

“What about him?”

“You need to tell them.”

“One thing at a time, Mary.”

“But-“

“First we find Kate and Ju.” He swallowed. They had to find Ju.

They had to.

-o-o-o-

Stepping onto a new world was never as grand as it appeared. Hell, landing on Mars for the first time had been a trip over his own toes’ moment.

Stepping onto Callisto was no different.

It was Scott who grabbed him before he could flip head over heels across the gantry. Changes in gravity always took time to get used to and less than twenty-four hours ago, it had been Earth oppressive.

Callisto gravity was a relief…if a little disorientating.

His eldest’s strong grip wrapped around his arm and held tight. Jeff looked over at Scott and was pinned with such worried bright blue eyes that his heart clenched.

All the tension, the argument, the resistance to his presence on this mission boiled down to the emotion in those eyes.

Love.

And fear.

Scott was terrified.

Jeff did it without thought or care for what anyone would think. He grabbed his son and yanked him into a hug, holding him close. The squawk across comms and the scrape of their helmets against each other did nothing to stop him.

“I’m sorry, son.”

“Uh...”

Scott’s arms wrapped around him, ever so hesitantly.

That hesitation hurt almost as much.

He clung that much tighter.

“Dad?” It was breathless.

He clung a second longer, but… Yes...right.

It was a moment stolen.

Because they were on a mission.

Jeff let Scott go.

His son pulled away slowly, not quite fully releasing him, and again those blue eyes were fixated on him in worry.

So much worry.

“You okay, Dad?”

Jeff straightened with more ease than he had managed in a long time and became aware of all the other eyes on him.

The ever-present echoes of Lucille’s beautiful brown eyes were assessing him. That was a given. But another two pairs of blue and a frowning fishy amber had him targeted as well.

He looked at each of them before turning back to the massive cavern around them. A mix of rock wall, structural support and storage, the docking cavern was lit with strong lighting, the red of Three reflecting on patches of frozen water embedded in the walls.

They were standing on a walkway that had been extended out to Three’s hatch. It was obviously of variable height and length and Jeff couldn’t help but admire the design.

He wondered who was responsible.

He wondered if it was Kate.

Her green eyes smiled at him at the back of his mind.

His lips pressed together as his sons and brother-in-law continued to shoot concerned expressions in his direction.

A breath.

“Let’s do this.” And he led them out and into Callisto Base.

-o-o-o-

Next

[longitud-de-onda]

mistakes like this

pairing; javier peña x female reader summary; you return home having forgotten your keys, so javi lets you spend the night at his place, both of you pretty tipsy from the night out.  rating; nc-17 warnings; alcohol, smut, dubcon a/n; (added feb 22, 2021) i’m no longer writing as much if at all for the fandom, and as such i don’t have the time or energy to rewrite this to match the more consensual sex that i had imagined while writing. however i want to make it clear that as it stands, consent isn’t very clear in this fic, and issues of that consent are mentioned.  word count; 3.1k mistakes like this masterlist

You almost fell on the way up to your apartment. Javier, thankfully, was not only right next to you, but coordinated enough to catch you.

You muttered a thank you, as you gripped the handrail a bit tighter to make it the rest of the way up the flight of stairs. Your head was still pounding, an aftereffect of the countless glasses of alcohol you had consumed earlier that night.

Earlier that day you captured one of Escobar’s sicarios after a week without leads. Connie had suggested you all go out and celebrate. The four of you enjoyed each others’ company, but, after a few drinks, Connie and Steve were all over each other, and Javier suggested they head home early to spare everyone at the bar from seeing the two undress each other on the dance floor. 

Javier and you stayed for another hour, drinking and talking until it was late enough to call it a night and head home. 

You now stood in front of your apartment door rummaging through your purse, trying to find your keys. If they were there, you couldn’t see them. Your stomach sank. And it didn’t mix well with the alcohol. The wave of nausea and frustration caused you to lean your back against the cold door and slide down to the ground. 

You stared at a spot on the floor where a fine line split across a yellow tile. Something big must have caused the crack. Something from before the Embassy bought the building.

You glanced up. Javier fumbled with his own keys, not entirely sober enough to open the door in one try and you giggled at the sight. 

“Something funny, Y/N?” he turned around, cocking an eyebrow.

“No, no, it’s all fine Javi,” you said, drawing out the ‘i’ in his name, “it’s all good.”

You turned your head back to your purse and dumped all the contents on the ground. No keys anywhere. You groaned. You remembered where you last put them down. Unfortunately, that place wasn’t your purse.

“You sure you’re all good?” Javier asked, leaning in his own (open) doorway, grinning.

“I, uh, I forgot my keys,” you said, “left them in the drawer at the Embassy.”

“Fuck,” Javier said, “If you want, you can stay at mine tonight.”

You figured the alcohol excused the lack of tact. At least you were about 80% sure he wasn’t inviting you to have sex with him. 80% was enough for you when tipsy.

“Fine,” you said, scooping your stuff back into your purse. Standing up was a challenge, your legs a lot shakier than you were used to. You followed Javier into his apartment, muttering a ‘thank you’ along the way. He just nodded back.

“I’m gonna take the sofa, you can take the bed. The bedroom’s in the back,” he said, pointing, as if you had never set foot in his apartment before. You knew very well where the bedroom was. The two of you had been working together for almost five years now, and small dinner parties with Steve and Connie or late nights where you took work from the embassy to someone’s coffee table were not uncommon. 

“I can take the couch,” you protested, “It’s your house.”

“Y/N,” Javier walked over to you, placing his hands on your shoulders, both to stabilize you and ensure you looked him in the eye, “You’re gonna take the bed, and I’m gonna sleep on the couch. I know you, and you are going to wake up much more hungover than me, so if the bed is a bit more comfortable, at least you’ll have that going for you in the morning.”

To be honest, you had zoned out after he said the word ‘hungover.’ This was going to hurt tomorrow morning. Javier was right about that; even if you didn’t get drunk too easily, you suffered much more in the morning than the average person. Javier’s reasoning didn’t really matter either because when he held your arms with the force he did and stared into your eyes, saying your name with such agression, you melted. Anything he could have said, you would have agreed to. 

You nodded, reaching up to push him off of you. The alcohol in your head mixed with your decision making and if he stayed there even a few seconds longer, you would have fallen deep into his eyes and made a decision you would probably regret in the morning. 

You and Javier were coworkers and close friends. You started at the embassy before Steve, and the two of you had grown close, but it was never anything more than friendship. You were his wingman when you went out, you drank together, and he would share all the details of his many conquests.

He was attractive, but that was always a thought you wrote off as a product of an often lonely life (and hearing him have sex at least three times a week through the walls of your shared floor) and would push to the back corner of your mind. You liked how unproblematic your relationship was. 

“I’m gonna grab a glass of water,” you said, averting your eyes from Javier’s and making to go to the kitchen.

“That sounds like a great idea,” Javier grinned, trailing behind you. 

You grabbed two glasses and filled them from the tap before handing one back to Javier. 

“Do you have any pain relievers?” you asked. You leaned up against a counter, one hand gripped to the edge of the laminate. Your head was getting better, but it would still hurt until you fell asleep. 

“Yeah, I can go get them,” he said, exhaling with a grimace, implying he might need some himself, “Can you make some toast or something? My stomach is about to start fighting back.”

“Okay,” you smiled. You wanted toast too. Food always helps ease the pain the next morning. Anything extra in your stomach would. You rummaged around his kitchen to find the bread and popped it in the toaster. Drinking the water in your glass helped, both your head and your rationality. 

Waiting for the toaster, you let your mind wander.  It would have been nice to keep drinking until you were really drunk and spend the rest of the night and morning at the bar, but any longer and Javier would have probably gone home with some girl, leaving you to make it back alone. And you would have returned to some hot, young girl, disheveled and a bit out of it, walking out of Javier’s apartment door, or worse, heard them passionately making love like you heard most nights. 

You were reasonably less tipsy when the toaster finished, and you placed each slice on a plate.

“They might be expired,” Javier said from behind you. You jumped, not having heard him approach.

“That’s fine, they usually still work, right?” you said and grabbed the bottle from his hands, dumping out a pill and swallowing it with a sip of water.

“Usually,” he grabbed a plate from the counter next to you and took a large bite, and began talking again with his mouth full, “I already took one so I hope so.”

He rested against the countertop next to you, and the two of you stood eating, the only sound the crunching of the toast. You loved the quiet. You didn’t need to talk to be okay spending time with each other. 

When you finished you set your plate down next to you and glanced up at Javier. He had stopped eating a minute ago and now stared at you, half-finished toast on the dish in his hands.  

The quiet was now heavy and uncomfortable. Something about his gaze meant something more, but you had no idea what. Your head was clear of the pain, but in its space was the crushing feeling in the air and confusion. Javier was not one to talk much, and if you said anything, it might very well ruin the night.  

He swallowed, his neck rippling in the soft light, and you stared back, goosebumps prickling up all over your arms and your stomach tightening. He analyzed you the way he would approach a new case: slowly, methodically, and with a raw intensity that scared most of his coworkers. It didn’t scare you when you were on the clock, but here? Here it sent a shiver down your spine. 

He set down his plate, and walked forwards, pinning you against the counter. A hand rose up to push back a strand of your hair that had fallen in front of your face. You breathed deeply.

Then his lips came crashing into yours, arms wrapping you, moving across your back with an intensity you weren’t used to. 

You didn’t feel the alcohol running through your body anymore, but it was clearly still working its way through your brain as you kissed back, roughly, one hand holding his jaw, the other gripping around his neck. Javier’s lips were strong and you melted into them, legs beginning to tremble. This was a bad decision, right? You were friends. 

But he shoved your hips together, pushing your further against the countertop digging into your back. You let out a moan against his lips and decided to let go. Your mind was awash with thoughts of him. Javier smiling at work, Javier rescuing you from a bad date, Javier’s eyes glistening with excitement as he brought you and Steve to his new favorite restaurant, Javier and you laughing over bad telenovelas with a bottle of wine. 

You not wanting to ruin a delicate friendship didn’t matter anymore as he disappeared and began to kiss down your jaw to your neck, mouthing at your skin, sucking marks that would be there at work on Monday, not that you could even think that far ahead. 

You worked your hands down his back, reaching the hem of his shirt, which you pushed up, finally getting to run your hands across his skin, pulling his chest towards yours. 

With a grunt, Javier reached his hands down under your thighs, lifting you up onto the counter, allowing you easier access to his face as he leaned over you to kiss you again. Your hands returned to the hem of his shirt, pulling it upwards, and he broke off to remove it. Your hands resumed roaming over his hot skin, and his hands slipped under your own shirt. Fingers brushed across your breasts and your arousal built pressure in between your legs. 

Javier pulled your shirt over your head, eyeing your chest hungrily. He leaned in to kiss your clavicle, and you threw your head back gasping. His lips moved down to the tops of your breasts, and he reached back to expertly unclasp your bra. 

Once he removed the offending article, he buried his face once again in your chest, kissing, licking, and sucking on your nipples and you squirmed on the cold laminate, wanting nothing more than to feel more of Javier. You grasped at his hips again, hoping for some friction, but he pulled back, leaving you whining. 

“Bed,” he panted, pulling you gently off the counter.

You nodded. Trying to walk with Javier proved difficult as you struggled to hold yourself up, your whole body shaking with arousal. 

He reached his arms under your legs once again, and you jumped into his chest. You pulled him close, his bare skin against your naked breasts causing a swell of need, and you kissed. Javier walked with you to the bedroom, where he dropped you on your back on the soft sheets. 

He crawled over top of you, placing kisses every inch from your navel to your neck until he reached your face to once more kiss you passionately on the lips. His hands worked to unbutton your pants and push them down to your knees. 

He teased you, hands roaming around your waist, down inside your thighs, and grabbing your ass. His fingers brushed up against your clit, and you let out a loud moan. It was like the moans that kept you up at night when Javier had other girls like you squirming in his bed. While the logical part of your brain told you to stop, you wanted more. It had been a long time since you had gotten any action, and tipsy sex between two friends wasn’t the worst that could happen, right? Plus, the alcohol in your system kept you from saying no to any of it.

“Javi,” you breathed, “Please.”

“Please what?” he asked.

“Please more,” you said. You inhaled and exhaled rapidly, you wanted friction, and you wanted something inside you. Soon.

Javier nodded. He spread his palm over you, squeezing gently, eliciting more sounds out of your control. He slipped a single finger inside you and you writhed underneath him. 

“You’re so warm, Y/N” grunted Javier, “So wet for me.”

He leaned down to press a kiss on your lips as he slipped another finger in, and began to move them slowly. You lifted your hips, desperate for more, and he bent his fingers, pushing into all the right spots. He moved with more sensitivity than before, and you took the moment to try to slow down your breathing. Sweat covered your hot body, the sheets sticking to your back, and you felt a build up inside you. As Javier moved more, moved faster, you felt even more empty. You wanted more of him. 

You shook at the brink of an orgasm. 

“Javi,” you said, “Javi, please. Please. I’m gonna—I’m gonna cum. I want you. Inside. Please.”

He stayed quiet, nipping at your neck, sucking dark purple spots into your skin. His fingers kept moving until they hit exactly where they needed to, and you cried out, clenching around him. You arched up into his chest, hands digging into his back, scratching into his skin. 

“Y/N, you’re gonna be the death of me,” Javier said, sitting up straddling your legs. You whined at the sudden lack of contact.

“Javi,” you said, head falling back onto the bed, the rest of your body vibrating with pleasure. He pulled your pants completely off, throwing them across the room. He began to take off his own pants, revealing how much you aroused him. 

Javier was no stranger to sex. He was practically an expert if there ever was one at the activity. He reached down to caress your body, rubbing across your stomach and up to your breasts where he squeezed. You were winding up again as he felt you.

You hadn’t ever let any of your alcohol-induced fantasies of Javier reach this point, never allowing yourself to imagine what this could be like. It would have ruined the easy way you lounged around eating pizza and drinking beer together and the casual physical intimacy without any tough emotions involved. But here you lay, a slave to every touch, gasping at his strokes. You wanted nothing but Javier. He was going to be the death of you. 

You were utterly fucked. Tomorrow morning, whatever happened, your relationship would never be the same. 

Grabbing your hips, Javier pulled you up onto his lap, where he teased at your entrance, his precum mixing with the results of your orgasm. You bucked your hips, silently asking for more, and Javier, firmly gripping your waist, slowly pushed in.

You moaned again with the feeling of fullness. He kept pushing in deeper and deeper. Until he pulled back, leaving you almost entirely empty again, and thrust forward once more, his hands around your waist guiding the motion. 

He built up speed and you whispered his name, once, twice, and then again until you repeated it like a mantra. His palm moved to the small of your back, pulling you up into an embrace. As he knelt on the bed, you began to bounce yourself up and down, listening to Javier’s moans.

“Fuck, Y/N. Oh god. Fuck,” Javier exhaled, “Shit, Y/N.”

You wrapped your arms around him, your breasts flush to his chest, and you kissed him, all teeth, biting at his lips, then his jaw down to his neck. His hand on the small of your back pressed you down further with every thrust, and you became desperate for a position that allowed you to feel him deeper. 

Javier wanted the same, as he pushed you back down onto the bed, pulling up your waist as he leaned over you, one hand stabilizing himself, the other wrapped firmly around your waist, holding you up in the air, close to him. His face hung over your chest, and as he quickened his thrusts, he took one of your breasts into his mouth, biting and sucking at the nipple.

He slammed his hips into yours, getting deeper and deeper as he hit a spot inside you, making you cry out, loudly. Again and again. Another orgasm threatened to erupt.

His hips stuttered as he let out a groan, and you felt him pulsing inside you. He kept rocking into you as it happened, building up, growing brighter and brighter until everything turned white and your hearing cut out.

When you finally came to, you had collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily. Javier lay on top of you, head right underneath your chin. Just as you went to reach up and wrap your arm around him, he rolled off you and lay down beside you, your arms barely touching. 

His breathing slowed, and you waited for him to say something. You hoped for the best but braced for him to kick you out as he did with all the other girls he fucked. As a neighbor with thin walls, you always heard when he finished, along with the doors opening and closing and whatever girl he had brought home leaving the apartment building shortly after. 

You didn’t expect him to prop himself up on one arm and kiss you on the forehead.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he whispered before he lay down on his side, facing you, and wrapped an arm around your waist. 

He closed his eyes and his breathing slowed. He had almost instantly fallen asleep. You held in a little laugh. Of course Javier would fall asleep right after. You were still coming down from the high, and despite how exhausted you were, it would be a while before you drifted off. 

You smiled, watching him. Asleep with his guard down, he had the hint of a smile on his face. He didn’t appear half as tough as he did awake. 

You pulled him in closer.

“Goodnight, Javi,” you whispered into the darkness. 

next part

[ladyblogger-margie]

The Sins You Can’t Outrun - Chapter 1

Pairing: Will “Ironhead” Miller x Santiago “Pope” Garcia (Triple Frontier)

Summary: When Will’s boyfriend Pope is kidnapped, Will must do the unthinkable to get him back. This is part 1 of a series. 

Word Count: 1347

Warnings: 18+ for violence/gore, (the series will eventually involved smut but not in this chapter)

a/n: This started as a prompt for Writer Wednesday organized by @autumnleaves1991-blog​ , (original post here) and I’m going to continue it as a series! Series details to come once I get that organized. 

MY MASTERLIST

When Pope promised Will he would start taking work closer to home, taking on the domestic drug trade was not exactly what Ironhead had in mind. 

But technically it did get Pope home by dinner, most nights at least, and he rarely was away for more than three days at a time, so Will worried silently and didn’t press the subject. He just continued with his routine, and worked on building a home for his former friend turned current boyfriend. 

Will was just so happy that the two had finally gotten together after years of secret hookups filled with shame and embarrassment and secrecy. Coming home from South America with no money and a dead friend had shifted their perspectives. Just grateful that they were both alive had opened the door for them to finally be something more. 

When Will returned, alone, he thought about when Pope had come to him with the proposition of the doomed mission in the first place. He thought about why he had said yes. Well technically he never did actually say yes, did he? No, he told Pope to talk to Tom. Will felt it was his fault that Tom was dead. 

It was Will’s fault because he got Tom involved. He thought he needed Tom’s perspective because he knew that around Pope, Will had no objectivity. Pope was like a blinding sun to him, alluring, attractive, blinding. Will knew he was going to follow Pope anywhere, would always follow Pope anywhere. 

Having survived the ordeal, Will thought it was a good a time as any to gain a little perspective for himself. Sure Pope was still the blinding sun, but Will didn’t mind. The sun was always warm, and leading, and strong. Will could use a little bit of sunshine. 

So when Pope came home eventually, Will marched right over to his place and put everything out on the table, and asked Pope to be his boyfriend. Three days, and many, many hours of passion later, Will walked out sun-kissed and in a relationship. 

The location of the money they threw off the mountain remained unspoken knowledge between the pair since they had gotten together. Will regretted telling Pope the coordinates, and he was afraid if he brought them up again it would drive Pope either to go collect.

He was also worried Pope was waiting for Will to bring up the location first and treat the conversation like permission. Will didn’t want him to go after it, so he just kept his mouth shut. 

But Will should have known Pope better by now, and he knows he shouldn’t have been so naïve. 

The first package arrived minutes before the first phone call. Will was coming back from a late night training session with Benny and was expecting the knock on the door to come from Pope for a late night booty call. 

Instead it was a bike messenger with a small box looking for Will’s signature. Will thought it was late for a delivery, but he didn’t question it. 

Will signed and closed the door, stepping into the front hall where he stood to open the package. He should have sat down first. 

He opened the package and found a bloody polaroid of a well-beaten Santiago Garcia. He stumbled back, bumping into the wall behind him and sliding to the floor. He looked through the box, flicking through other polaroid's of different angles of Pope’s face beaten, his hands tied, his shirt ripped with gashes on his back. The sight was sickening, but the polaroid's weren’t the only things sent to him. Also in the box were ten fingernails. The blood was sticky and not fully dry yet so Will knew they were fresh and he prayed that that meant Pope actually was still alive. 

Then the home phone rang and Will lunged at it. 

“Pope,” his voice was desperate, but rationally he knew it wasn’t Pope on the other end. 

“The abandoned gas station on route 12. Answer the payphone in 15 minutes, alone, or we send you a bigger piece of your boyfriend,” a gravelly voice on the other end commanded Will. 

“Let me talk to him,” Will commanded right back, “I need proof he’s still alive.”

Will heard the phone shuffle on the other side, then Pope’s voice came through the other end, pained and muffled. 

“Will,” was the only thing Pope said before the line went dead. 

Will looked at the watch on his wrist and it read 11:42. Then he rushed to the lock box in his closet and pulled out his gun, tucking it into the back of his pants before he put on a baseball hat and heavy coat to combat the heavy mist that had fallen in the night. 

He jumped in his truck and sped off, his mind racing a thousand miles a minute. He thought tactfully as he drove, racing through the mist covered town. The clock on his dashboard read ‘11:48’ ; it was nearly Friday already. 

There was no way to know exactly how long these guys have had Pope captive, but Will was fairly certain it had to have happened either when Pope was on his way home from work, at his house, or sometime on his way to Will’s - sometimes Pope was already in bed waiting for Will to come home from training. So Will figured they’ve had Pope about 7 hours at most. 

Clearly this wasn’t an assassination attempt against Pope, it was more personal than that. Then there was the fact that Will had been the one to receive the box and the instructions, so it definitely was personal - if it was professional it’s likely the box would have been sent to Pope’s job. 

Will sped through town, leaning on his instincts to guide him, his attention completely on what he was going to do about Pope. 

He thought about calling Benny and Frankie, but decided to wait. He was fairly confident that Pope wasn’t at the abandoned gas station, but he was sure these guys would have eyes on the site. If he showed up with backup, he’d be putting Pope at risk. 

They told him to answer the phone. They probably wanted to negotiate at a location where Will couldn’t possibly trace the source even if he did have that ability. They just wanted to scare him in an effort to increase their sense of power. 

Will was determined not to give them the satisfaction. Sure his whole body was trembling at the idea of Pope hurt like that, and all alone. He was in love with him and he hadn’t even told him yet. He was absolutely terrified, but he was going to do whatever possible to ensure he had the chance to say those special three words to Pope when they were both home safely. 

Will screeched to a stop in front of the phone booth at 11:56, one minute to spare. He stood still in front of the payphone and took stock of his surroundings. He seemed to be alone, there were very little sounds around him, certainly nothing like footsteps in the trees, or an approaching car. If someone was there, they posed him no threat - at least not before the phone call. 

Then the phone rang and Will answered immediately. 

“Punctual, good,” the voice on the other end of the phone mocked Will. 

Will gripped the phone tightly in his hands, “Where’s Santiago Garcia?”

“He’s here, he’ll survive,” the voice said casually, “Or at least, he will if you return what you’ve taken.”

Will’s stomach turned, Lorea, but he was dead, wasn’t he?

“Lorea?” Will breathed into the phone. 

“He’s dead, you and your goons took care of that,” the voice responded with malice, “But that didn’t give you any claim to what you stole, and we want it back.”

Will shook his head, “That’s impossible. We don’t have it. We left it behind in South America.”

“Then you better go get it,” the voice demanded, “I expect it hand delivered in 6 days.”

“Delivered where?” Will asked. 

“I’ll be in touch. Oh, and if you include the authorities in any way, I’ll mail you the pieces of him one by one and you’ll never be able to put him back together. If you don’t deliver the money, Garcia dies,” the voice finished and the line cut off. 

Will hung up the phone and rescanned the area. He was still alone, but he couldn’t shake that feeling he was being watched.  

Pope was alive, but he had to go get that money he had been trying desperately to forget. If he didn’t Pope was dead. 

He had to call Benny and Frankie and ask them for a cursed favor. 

To be continued...

Tags: @autumnleaves1991-blog​

[whereflowersbloom]

Drunk on the idea of us

Raven was a light sleeper but she was surprised when she woke up in the middle of the night, hearing someone knocking on her room’s door. It couldn’t be an emergency, there’s no way she didn’t hear the alarm first. She slowly rose out of her bed, quietly pulled the door open to reveal, a very drunk Damian.

“You do realize it’s 3:15am and we both have training first thing in the morning.” She sighe trying to process what was happening. This was so unlike him. Whatever was going on it was something was obviously bothering him.

Standing in front of him arms crossed, she noticed how his eyes even if a bit unfocused, were studying every corner of her room until they fell back on her. They always found a way to make her feel exposed. His first words confused her even more.

“You’re so tiny.”

She wasn’t sure she should feel offended by his comment. But then it was her first time dealing with a drunk Damian Wayne. She was distracted by the mixed feelings coming from him when she felt him put his hands on her shoulders, as if trying to find balance. He leaned closer to her. She could feel the heat of his breath on her ears.

“You smell so nice. You always do.” His speech a bit slurred. Raven hid the blush on her cheeks and shock from his words, pressing her face against his chest. She couldn’t look at him. Control. She needed control over the situation. She swallowed , trying to ease the tightness in her chest and focus.

“Why are you really here, Damian? You don’t usually drink like this. You never do.”

He took a deep breath, the alcohol in some way insentisied her essence. He straightened himself up and looked at her. His hands went to her face but he said nothing. Her beauty intoxicated his senses, and he desired her.

Raven exhaled, identifying a feeling of disappointment? What was she expecting? “Maybe you need to rest for a bit, if you aren’t up for talking , huh?”

“I’m not that drunk, Raven. We do need to talk. I know you’re upset, even if you’re trying to hide it.” He said suddenly sounding very serious, for someone who is clearly drunk.

“I’m not upset. I’m simply surprised you’re here.” She shook her head. Realization hitting her. So he noticed.

“That’s not what I meant. Don’t lie to me. We don’t lie to each other.” He said raising an eyebrow in challenge.

Right.

His lie detection ability was inconvenient at times like this. Identifying even micro-expressions. There goes her cover.

“Alright, Boy wonder. Perhaps, I have noticed your secretive behavior lately. I know you and Jon are keeping something from me.” If it was honesty hour. She could use it to get some answers. “Don’t misunderdtand, I don’t mean to pry. I just thought we were...” her mouth hesitated, choosing the word carefully. “...close.”

She managed to sit on her bed, awaiting his response. it was finally out, off her chest or part of it. Somewhere along the way, becoming team mates first, then friends. Friends. It didn’t feel right, good enough to describe their bond. Not at this point anymore or in her heart.

“I was out with Jon, having a few drinks to gather courage. You’re partly right, something did change.” He whispered in the dark.

She heard footsteps coming towards her bed. Immediately, Damian was sitting next to her. “But don’t misunderstand. It isn’t what you’re thinking.” He shook his head and stroke her cheek tenderly. She hoped he was drunk enough not to notice the blush which was painted over her cheeks. Why did drunk people have to be so close when talking? If only he moved a few inches, to break the distance.

“Look, I know I’m not a very open person, specially when it comes to talking about my private life and sharing feelings. But this involves you now. I wasn’t entirely sure...how to handle it. So yes, I went to Jon for advice. I didn’t want Grayson gossiping my private affairs before...” he groaned in frustration. “What I’m trying to say is, I didn’t intend to keep secrets from you. Ever.”

He frowned suddenly, closing his eyes and letting out an annoyed sound. “Fuck. This isn’t coming out right. I knew I needed a plan. I’m messing it up.”

She blinked shocked by his words. Still trying to process his speech. Damian Wayne was sitting on her bed, evidently drunk, asked for advice, now talking about feelings involving her. Oh Azar. Does it mean he feels...? A spark of hope shinning. This wasn’t the same proud, snarky, insufferable kid who joined them years ago. He had changed, matured, she knew. But. Her damn insecurities. Could she trust his words and the meaning behind them in his current intoxicated state? When her pounding heart just wanted to scream ‘I’d take you in a heartbeat’.

She bit her lower lip, thinking what to say, anything that makes sense and let her take control over her emotions.

He opened his eyes, looked down at her face with a different expression. “Don’t do that.”

She was about to reply to his demand when his thumb moved to her lip, forcing her to stop biting her lip. “I can’t focus when you do that.” He whispered softly.

She swallowed a bit, and tried to regain some common sense. When did she start allowing him to touch her? When did this all start? That awkward moment at the Ferris wheel, when she recognized the loneliness in his eyes? She was the one who wasn’t drunk, so she had to think clearly.

“I know this is complicated. But you have to be honest Damian. I want to hear it in your own words. Why did you get drunk?” She asked softly. “I’m here and it’s just us.” She squeezed his big hand reassuringly, smiling.

Damian sighed, his whole body relaxed, feeling the warmth of her hand in his. “Because you’re my kryptonite in some way. Also, because of me and how much frustrating it is not to be able to do and say what I want to you, when I’m sober, analyzing, overthinking everything like a madman.”

“I feel this unbearable tiredness consuming me sometimes. Holding back all the damn time. I swear I want to give it all up, to hold you only for a couple of minutes.” His voice sounded drained. “Oh, teach me how I should forget to think.”

He wrapped his arm around her, drawing her gently against him, her head pressed to the warmth of his solid chest. Indeed, she was so tiny next to him. This felt so right and familiar. She wondered how long they would have this moment, if there was something that could make him give it all up, the stress, expectations, worries, just so he could take a breath for once and not think about anything. Have this moment together.

“I like being close to you.” He whispered like a secret in the darkness of her room. “Me too.” She also confessed, smiling softly.

There was a pause, their voices going silent before he spoke again. “ I wanted to kiss you.” He admitted with such raw honesty.

Her breathing quickens at his confession. He was still drunk, probably not in his sane self. She bit her lip hesitating but she wanted to ask. She needed to.

“When?” She breathed out into the dark.

“The first time? I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while now. I suppose I finally accepted it, last New Years party. When West was buzzing around you like a fly. His ridiculous attempt to impress you almost made me lose my temper.” He growled lowly, with a bit of jealousy in his tone.

“Damian Wayne gets jealous. Who knew.” She giggled as the memories of that night popped in her mind. Damian looked like he was about to punch someone and Jon was busy getting his attention, convincing him to play a cards game. But even back then, there was only one name engraved upon her heart.

“There’s nothing to be jealous of that frisky speedster. He’s just another unavoidable irritation.” He said annoyed at the thought of the young speedster.

“Almost? And that’s why you almost break his leg the morning after, during training, right?” Raven smirked.

“It isn’t my fault he wasn’t fast enough to block my moves. They do say all’s fair in war and love.” He smiled proudly.

Her mind went back to his confession before. She shouldn’t ask now. She shouldn’t push it. She should wait until he was himself enough to talk about this properly. “Do you still want to-“

“Always.” He answered her question, no hesitation. He chuckles a bit quietly. “I always think about kissing you, and what would be like, before I persuade myself how much of a bad idea it would be. Whenever we are training, enjoying a cup of tea, when I catch myself looking at you longingly, every moment we spend alone. And then once again I think about how good it would feel, because how could it not, when I can’t seem to get you off my mind. Then I scare myself with how badly it could end and ruin us.” He sounded more coordinated now, he was being completely open with her. No filters or holding back anymore.

Why?

She opened her eyes. She knew why. Because it would change everything. Teammates, friends, lovers was taking another dangerous step.she battled with this every time she thought about the possibility of a future ‘us’. But she’d had enough of the potential outcomes and what-ifs.

“I want to kiss you, too.” It was easier to reveal it into the dark. “I would never leave you. Whatever happened or we ended up being. I wouldn’t leave you, Damian.” She said with more confidence she ever felt and realized she truly meant it. Whether they were only friends, broke up, because of one of the millionths of things that could go wrong. Raven liked him too much to let him go. She’d always stay.

He swallowed a bit. He leaned closer to her, he pressed his forehead against hers, still looking at her with tenderness. His vivid green eyes stared into her with passion and desire. He whispered into her ear softly “Stars, hide your fires, let not light see my black and deep desires.”

Oh. Shakespeare.

He cupped her pale face between his hands and ran a thumb over her lips. “Do you have any idea how insanely beautiful you are?” His touch felt like an electric current running through her body.

“Your violet-blue eyes are the night sky filled with shinning comets.” He said delighted in her beauty.

She should have pushed him away and told him to wait until he was sober. For a long time she didn’t think she deserved a love like this, the passion, the spark, but she wanted it. They both craved it tonight, needed each other like a drug.

She could only be a slave of her own heart and the existence of her love for him. She never had a choice in this, right? Who could resist Damian Wayne?

He whispered words in some unknown language but his eyes spoke clearly ‘You’re only mine.’

He pressed his lips against hers. The moment they touched it was like everything exploded inside her and around them. Raven couldn’t help buy completely melt against his broad chest.

His kiss was wild and heavy, and it caused her to get lost in the feeling of absolute bliss, as their hands run over each other bodies feverishly looking for new skin to touch, grip or pull.

She broke the kiss in need of air. “That was one hell of a first kiss. You should have warned me.” She managed to say her lips hurting a bit from the heated kiss.

Damian smirked “The warning was implied that all is fair game.”

“Oh. When?” She asked as she raised her eyebrows questioningly.

“The moment you started biting those addictive lips of yours. Warned you, not to do it.” He looked the happiest she’s ever seen him since he joined them team.

They ended on her bed, lying there, wrapped completely around each other. Her cheeks were flushed, her full lips, had become swollen from their kiss. Damian tracing the curves of her body, slowly before speaking. “As much as I want to continue, I’d rather do this when I’m sober. When we’re both ready. I want to memorize every detail.”

“Does this mean it’s official. Us? We are telling the others about us.” She asked playfully.

“If that’s what you wish, beloved. We will let everyone know.” He said pressing a kiss to her forehead. “But don’t misunderstand, my love. After a customary period of proper courtship, I plan on asking you again. Officially introducing you to my family as my lover.”

“I know.” She said smiling. Thinking about it. Dick and Jon would have so much fun in the next couple of months. The Tower will be a mess. “We will think about it all tomorrow. For now we should sleep.”

Murmuring sleepily, she snuggled closer and Damian slid an arm around her waist. Enjoying the way her curves fitted against him. Their breathing slowed down and finally both dozed off.

***

[spine-buster]

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks for all the positive feedback on last week’s double update!  I’d love to hear how you’re enjoying it and any canon questions you may have even though it’s very early into the story still!

September 13th, 2019

Aberdeen Bloom was absolutely fucking bricking it.  

These were the things she knew as an absolute certainty: William Nylander – she had learned his full name – was a Toronto Maple Leaf.  She had hooked up with him in June one week after her graduation from university.  He’d gone back to Sweden for the summer to be with his family.  Now he was back in Toronto because he played for the Toronto Maple Leafs.  And now, she worked as the executive assistant to the president of the Toronto Maple Leafs.

She had no clue how she got herself into this situation, no clue what she was going to do in this situation, and no clue how she was going to get out of this situation.

She was going to have to see him practically every fucking day.

Aberdeen knew she couldn’t let this get the best of her, her mind, or her emotions.  She was brought on board to do a job, and she was going to do that job to the best of her abilities.  No bullshit, no problem.  William wasn’t going to stand in her way of doing well and doing her job for Mr. Shanahan.  Regardless of how blue his eyes were.  Regardless of how blonde his hair was.  Regardless of how cute he looked.  Regardless of how hot he looked in a suit.  Regardless of how every time she looked at him, she began to remember how his hands felt on her hips and how his lips felts on her bare skin…

No.  Stop it.

By the end of the week, she’d met the entire team – Mr. Shanahan had ushered her into the locker room to introduce her to everyone and she waved shyly at all of them before they gave her polite nods and waves of their own.  She wondered if any of them recognized her from when she accidentally walked in on all of them topless and in their underwear.  They probably did.  Nobody recovered from something like that.  Throughout the week, many of them saw her in the hallways and came up to introduce themselves personally.  She thought that was nice.  Sometimes, she’d see William hanging out in the background, waiting for his teammate, but staring directly at her.  

Now came her first trip, one that she found out about on Wednesday – she was going to St. John’s, Newfoundland.  She was lucky Kasha was one of her best friends and agreed to watch and feed Minerva because she’d be gone for six days.  Leaving on Friday, coming back late Wednesday night, after the exhibition game in Ottawa.  It would be interesting, that’s for sure.  She’d never been to Newfoundland.

Lou drove her and Mr. Shanahan to Pearson Airport (Kyle Dubas had to stay back to negotiate a contract and sign someone, but he’d be there eventually too), where she was led to a private hangar.  Most of the team was already there, and a bunch of people Aberdeen didn’t recognize.  She noticed William in the crowd already staring at her as she walked in, a beanie lazily placed on top of his head.  He was sitting beside Kasperi, who was trying to show William something on his phone.  She tried to look away, but couldn’t.

“That’s media,” Brendan told her, finally breaking her concentration.  “They travel with us on road trips.”

“But this is only the start of training camp…” Aberdeen said, not quite understanding why they were already here if the season hadn’t even started yet.

Brendan chuckled from beside her.  “You’ve got a lot to learn about the sports media in Toronto…especially for the Leafs,” he commented.  

“Sorry,” she apologized for no good reason.

“That’s okay.  You’ve got a lot of time to learn.”

When everybody began to board, she began to gather all of the things she’d taken out of her bag while they waited.  She almost jumped out of her skin when somebody behind her asked, “Do you need help carrying your bag?”

She spun around and saw William behind her, watching her as she stuffed everything into her bag.  “No,” she said, turning back around because she couldn’t look at him.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“There’s an entire team of big burley hockey players ready to help.”

“No thank you,” she said again, zipping it up and walking away.  

On the private jet, she learned about the seating hierarchy.  The team got the back of the plane; media and other team personnel at the front.  She learned that the seats were giant, only two to a row, and she got her own row – a window seat right behind Mr. Shanahan.  She learned about the impeccable catering on board and the menu provided for them.  She learned that everybody was more relaxed on the charter flight – even the team, as they let loose and began to play cards, loosening their ties and taking off their suit jackets.  

She learned that every time she stood up or looked behind her, William was almost always already looking at her.  

***

September 14th, 2019

Practices were not usually watched by the general public, but because NHL hockey came to Newfoundland so rarely, tickets were sold to watch the Toronto Maple Leafs practice.  The arena was full, and before the boys stepped out onto the ice, Aberdeen had to coordinate Mr. Shanahan completing some media interviews for local news stations before they were able to retire from that and actually watch the practice.  They sat together, looking out onto the rink as Aberdeen had her iPad in her lap to co-ordinate a few more media interviews after the practice was done.  

“Sir, can I ask you a question?” she asked.  

“Brendan,” her corrected her.  She still felt uncomfortable about calling him that, so she wasn’t going to.  “Shoot.”

“The drill they’re doing right now.  What’s it called?”

Brendan looked at her briefly, smiling slightly.  “It’s to practice backchecking.”

She nodded her head.  “What’s a backcheck?” she asked, feeling stupid.  All of these terms were like a foreign language to her.  She didn’t know how people spoke using these words in coherent sentences.

“Backchecking is when the other team has the puck, and we need to rush back to the defensive zone to stop their attack,” Brendan explained.

“So…it’s trying to stop the other team from scoring.”

Brendan smiled again, wider this time.  “You’re learning.”

“I figured I should learn about the sport I’m going to be surrounded by,” she shrugged her shoulders.  “So that must mean the forecheck is attacking…trying to score.”

“Exactly.”

“Who are our best goal scorers?”

Brendan considered her question.  He knew he could answer it in many different ways.  “Well, if we’re talking about pure numbers, John Tavares – last season he scored forty-seven goals.  Anything above fifty is, like, at the super-elite level.  But then there’s Auston Matthews – he’s probably the most elite pure goal-scorer in the league, save for Connor McDavid.  Thirty-seven goals last season.  Mitchy scored twenty-six.  And then there’s the other guys – Kasperi, Andreas, and Zach all scored twenty last season.  Morgan Rielly, our best defenseman – he even scored twenty last season.  He was a monster.  Didn’t get nominated for the Norris, stupidly, but a monster nonetheless.  And William Nylander – elite goal scorer too.  His numbers last year don’t reflect that because he only played a half a season, but he’s as elite as the rest of them.”

At the mention of William’s name, Aberdeen shifted uncomfortably.  She tried not to pay attention to anything he said about William because it would just lead her to the memories, and then she’d be done for.  “So we’re a good team,” she inferred from what Brendan was telling her.  

Brendan chuckled this time.  “You could say that.”

When the practice was over, she organized for Mr. Shanahan to do more media.  Everybody was eating him up.  He gave great soundbites, talked about the hockey scene in Newfoundland, and about the Leafs practice.  He, of course, picked up on things during practice Aberdeen didn’t even notice.  The reporters ate it up like they couldn’t get enough.  And when Mr. Shanahan was finished, they waited somewhat impatiently for the players.  

Hockey clearly meant a lot to everyone around her.  It was what drove them, what sustained them, and what they were passionate about beyond everything else.  She had to make sure she kept up with their intensity, or else she felt like everything that the success of her in her job depended on may crumble.

***

When the day was done, the team, management, and media retreated back to the hotel.  It was around 6pm, and there were a lot of people in the lobby, figuring out their next steps.  As Aberdeen walked through the doors with Mr. Shanahan, she saw everybody congregating in their groups.  Some of the players had already changed out of their workout gear and into casual clothes, obviously ready to go out for a bite to eat.  She hoped that the hotel had room service, because she knew exactly what she’d be doing for the rest of the night.

“Aberdeen, do you have plans tonight?” Brendan asked suddenly, taking his phone out of his pocket.

“No sir.  Just room service for dinner and—”

“Oh, Aberdeen!” he cut her off, his tone almost scolding.  “You’re twenty-one years old and you’re in St. John’s.  You can’t stay in and order room service.”

Easy for him to say.  “Well—”

“Do you want to come to dinner with me and some of the hockey ops guys?” he asked politely.  She knew he was just doing this to be exactly that – polite.  There was no way he would want to hang out with his executive assistant outside of work hours.  

“I’m fine.  It’s okay—”

“Hey Brendan,” they suddenly heard a voice.  They turned their heads to see Jason Spezza approaching them.  He was dressed much better than most of the other guys, and Aberdeen attributed that to the fact that he was older.  “We were wondering if we could take Aberdeen out to dinner to show her around St. John’s.”

She looked behind Jason to see Kasperi, John, Morgan, and William.  Her eyes bulged out of her head.  “Oh, thank you for the offer, but it’s okay—”

“What a great idea!” Brendan exclaimed at the same time, turning at her and smiling.  “You got out of dinner with us old bozos!”

“No no no—”

“Have fun!” Brendan said as he began walking away, joining another group of men and slapping one of them on the back.

Aberdeen looked up at Jason.  Her cheeks flushed red with anxiety at the prospect of spending hours with them.  “You need to calm down,” Jason told her.  “We’re just guys.”

“You’re the Toronto Maple Leafs,” she stressed, trying not to meet William’s eye.

“So?” he shrugged his shoulders.  “We’re just trying to be nice, Aberdeen.  I don’t want to see you all alone when everyone else on the team is going to be out having fun.”

“Why not?”

Jason shrugged his shoulders.  “Because you’re part of the team now.”

Aberdeen considered the words coming out of Jason’s mouth.  It hadn’t even been a week since her first day, since she walked in on everyone in their underwear, and already she was “part of the team” and invited to go out to dinners with them.  She didn’t understand.  Why were they being so nice?  She was a nobody – to them, to the organization, to the world.  She was only a personal assistant.  “But—”

“Aberdeen, the more the argue this, the more you’re going to have to hear my voice telling you to come,” Jason said.  “Are you really going to make me beg?”

His damn puppy dog eyes were the only, and she means the only reason she gave in.

***

Auston Matthews and Frederik Andersen joined the group before they left to walk along Water Street, eventually choosing a fresh seafood restaurant to have dinner in (because why go to St. John’s and not get fresh caught seafood?).  Aberdeen walked alongside Jason making small talk with him, with Auston, Fred, Morgan, and John ahead of them and William and Kasperi behind them.  Once they were seated at the restaurant, she found herself sandwiched between Jason and Morgan.  William was right across from her.  

“So where are you from, Aberdeen?” John asked as everyone finished giving their order to the waiter.  

“I was born and raised in Toronto.  Etobicoke, actually,” she said.  “Royal York and Bloor.  But south of Bloor – not the Kingsway.  Nobody can afford to live in the Kingsway.  Well – you guys can,” she rambled, finally stopping to take a sip of her water.

“Any siblings?” Morgan asked.

“My older sister Siena is 23.  She’s at the University of Ottawa for law school.  Then there’s the baby Camden.  He just turned eleven this summer.”

“That’s quite the spread,” Kasperi commented.  She could see William side-eye him, not appreciating the comment.  It was a fair comment, but Aberdeen hated when people made it.  Yes, there was a huge gap between them.  So what?  Lots of families had huge gaps between siblings.  Hers was not unique.  

“He was definitely an oops baby, if that’s what you mean,” she deadpanned, looking right at him.

“Oh no no no – I didn’t mean it like that at all—” he tried to cover himself.

“Dude, there’s ten years between Daniella and I,” William quipped.

“Yeah but there’s three other kids in between you guys—”

“Will you two just be quiet?  God you’re like Tweedledee and Tweedledum,” Morgan said.  “Ignore them, Aberdeen.  What do your parents do?”

“My mom is an elementary school teacher and my dad is a mailman with Canada Post.”

“And who’s your favourite Toronto Maple Leaf?” William asked, taking his own sip from his drink.  The way he was looking at her would make any girl’s head spin, and it made Aberdeen’s spin for a split second before she remembered that she was at a table full of men who happened to be his teammates and who would most definitely notice any suspicious behaviour on her part.  

“Not any of you,” she said in a playful tone, causing the whole table to ooh and aww and clutch their hearts.  

“Really?  Even when we’re buying you dinner?” William continued.

“You’re going to need to do more than that,” she smiled.

“You mean buy you a drink?  You like vodka-based stuff?”

Aberdeen’s face dropped.  Vodka was the main alcohol in all the cucumber mules she drank when she met him at King Taps.  Drinking all those cucumber mules was the reason she let all her inhibitions go and brought him back to her place to sleep with him.  Well that, and his personality.  And his eyes.  And his hair.  And his body.  And his – snap out of it!  “I’m more of a gin girl myself,” she said, bringing her class of water to her lips again.

“Could have fooled me,” he quipped.

Morgan brought the conversation back to hockey – why they were all there.  The boys let her in on a few traditions and the etiquette around the arena, especially on game days.  When she asked about all the media on the trip and why they were they everybody let out a collective groan and explained to her how hounding the media was in Toronto.  When the food came the talk died down a bit but John began explaining to her the rivalries, the divisions, the conferences, who the Leafs liked and didn’t like, teams to watch out for as well as teams with friends on them.  Their good friend Tyler Ennis, who just played on the Leafs last year was now in Ottawa, and they’d be seeing him at the season opener.  Aberdeen wished she had a notebook where she could write this all down.  Jason explained how excited he was for the season opener – how he got some tickets for his extended family and friends to see him play.  Auston explained how his parents would be flying in from Arizona.  It was all very nice to hear.

Jason ended up paying for her meal even though she fought him on it.  When they decided to leave, the owner of the restaurant came out to shake hands with all of them and asked for a picture.  They obliged, and the owner was over the moon.  He said he was going to blow up the picture, frame it, and put it right at the entrance.  That’s when Aberdeen understood how hockey crazed some people could be.  

Instead of going directly back to the hotel, Morgan persuaded everyone to take a walk down by the harbour.  He used the map on his phone to guide them, and Aberdeen would unintentionally hold the group up by taking pictures of all the old and colourful buildings.  She couldn’t help it – if traveling was going to be a perk of the job, then she was going to enjoy it as much as possible.  

The harbour was beautiful, even though it was dark, and she made a mental note to come back if she had any free time when it was light out.  She also wanted to climb Signal Hill.  She took out her phone and clutched it in her hands shyly, looking at the guys talking amongst one another.  “Um…can someone take a picture of me?”

Jason, of course, was the only one who heard her.  “Give me your phone,” he extended his hand, and she gave it to him as she went to pose along the guardrail.  He took a few photos, and even turned on the flash.  All the guys watched on, and Aberdeen felt a bit awkward.  Apparently, Jason sensed it.  “Can we make it look like she has friends?” he announced to the guys, causing them all to laugh.  “Jesus fuck, guys.  Go pose with her.”

They all surrounded her, throwing their arms over each other.  Auston draped his arm over her shoulder.  Fred’s extended all the way to her shoulders too, despite being a two people away from her.

William’s was the only arm around her waist.  

***

September 17th, 2019

“You could have said I was your favourite the other night,” a voice Aberdeen could only place as William’s said as she was looking down at her iPad.  Everybody was in Mile One Stadium for the game, and the arena was already full with eager fans.  

She didn’t even know how he found her.  Wasn’t he supposed to be getting ready?  How did he have the time to bother her and be a menace?  “But you’re not my favourite.”

“Ouch, Aberdeen,” he put his hand over his heart like the rest of the guys had done that night at dinner.  

“Well you’re not,” she reiterated.

“Then let me rephrase the question,” he started, “You could have said I was fucking awesome.”

Aberdeen’s face dropped again.  Yet again, those were the words she had used after they’d finished having sex.  She blurted them out, but he agreed.  God, to think that it stroked his ego for months and he still remembered months after the fact.  “What are you trying to do here?” she asked him.

“When we met in June you kept talking and talking and I let you because I love the sound of your voice,” he said.  Her heart stopped beating momentarily.  She was hyperaware of the present tense use of ‘love’ and not ‘loved’ in his sentence.  “I’m just trying to talk to you.”

She shook any thought about that night or about “I love hearing you talk” out of her head as she got up.  This was all a game to William – that much she figured.  Why else would he find her?  Why else would he repeat her words back at her and taunt her with them?  Why else would he offer to buy her a drink in front of six of his teammates?  She didn’t know if he was telling the truth, if he was just taunting her, or…God, what if he wanted to hook up again?  Was he really that kind of guy that he was doing all this again to somehow seduce her?  A fun little romp with the office girl so he could show off to all his buddies?  Regardless of what it was, Aberdeen knew this was dangerous, extremely dangerous.  It was a game she wasn’t willing to play when so much was on the line for her personally and professionally.  

“Well, don’t,” she huffed, staring at him.  “This isn’t a game and I’m not a pawn.  I’m here to work and do a good job.  I’m most definitely not here to keep you entertained,” she said, walking away from him.  

***

September 18th, 2019

The Toronto Maple Leafs lost both exhibition games to Ottawa, but it didn’t really matter because they were just that – exhibition games.  Mr. Shanahan was still peeved that they lost, but he took it in stride.  When their charter plane finally landed in Toronto at around 11:45 at night on Wednesday, Aberdeen was ready for bed.  All she wanted to do was cuddle Minerva and sleep for twelve hours.  She was especially excited to have the day off tomorrow.  She could at least do laundry.  

When they were free to get her luggage, the tag-team of Tyson Barrie and Jason Spezza made sure they got her bag for her.  Mr. Shanahan had already left – he was the first one off the flight – because his son was picking him up, and he didn’t want him waiting and getting a ticket.  

“Aberdeen, do you have a ride?  Is somebody picking you up?” John asked, extending the handle on his luggage.  From behind him, she noticed William lurking and waiting for her answer.

“Nah, I’m good.  I’m just hopping on the UP,” she waved him off.  She would have to ask an airport employee where to get the UP Express.

“What?  No way,” John shook his head.

“No no no,” said William from behind him, shaking his head.

“No no no,” said Travis who was standing by her, shaking his head.

“No no no,” said Tyson who was also standing by her, shaking his head.

“No,” John repeated.  You would think she said she was going to walk the entire way home instead of take public transit.  “You live downtown, right?  That’s what you said at dinner?” he asked, but didn’t even wait for her to respond.  “Who’s going downtown and can drop off Aberdeen?” John asked loudly so everyone could hear.

“It’s fine, it’s really fine—” she tried to intervene.

“Bee’s coming to pick me up – we can drop Aberdeen off no problem,” Morgan offered.  

“I’ve got Saylor picking me up,” Kasperi offered.

“Morgan will do it,” John said quickly.  

Aberdeen looked over at Morgan.  “You really don’t have to—”

“Nonsense,” he extended the handle on his luggage.  “Follow me.”

He led her out of the private hangar towards a black Honda Civic.  Aberdeen watched as a girl got out of the car.  She was unconventionally pretty, with beautiful long hair.  She wore comfy looking oversized cardigan and plain black tights.  She only assumed this was Morgan’s girlfriend.  When they got close, Morgan kissed her.  “I volunteered to drive Aberdeen home,” he said, nodding back towards her.

Bee looked at her.  “Great!  Hop in.  Just put your luggage in the backseat – I don’t mind,” she said, turning and getting into the passenger’s seat.  Morgan opened the trunk to put his bigger suitcase in before returning to the driver’s seat.  Aberdeen had a grip on her luggage.  

“So what position do you have with the Leafs, Aberdeen?” Bee asked from the passenger’s seat, even shifting so she was actually able to look at her.

“I’m Brendan Shanahan’s personal assistant.”

“Oh, that’s so cool!” Bee smiled.  “Brendan’s awesome.  But I’m sure you’re realizing that.  God, I bet a million people would kill for your job.”

Aberdeen shrugged her shoulders.  “I guess.  I didn’t really uh, you know, watch hockey before this.”

“I didn’t either, until I met Morgan,” Bee said.  “Don’t worry.  It has its way of sucking you in.  There’s a certain magic to the game that you can’t get away from.  You just have to make sure you keep your head above water.”

“Right.”

“Where do you live, Aberdeen?” Morgan asked, looking at her through the rear-view mirror.  

“Oh!  I’m on Nelson Street.  It’s near University and Adelaide.”

Bee punched the address Aberdeen gave into her phone.  “You let us know whenever you need a ride back into the city from the airport, okay?  You’re not that far from us.”

“Um, thank you,” she said as she felt Morgan put the car into drive.

“No problem at all, Aberdeen.  Love your name by the way.”

They made small talk throughout the ride, and thankfully, because it was so late, the roads were clear.  In just less than twenty minutes, Aberdeen was home.  She thanked Morgan and Bee profusely before leaving.  Bee watched her go in as Morgan texted on his phone.

“Who are you texting at this hour of the night?” she asked.

“Willy,” he said absent-mindedly.  “Wants to make sure we got home okay.”

Bee furrowed her brows.  “He’s never texted us about that before.”

Morgan shrugged.  “Whatever.”

[big1ron]

The Venator “Resolute” had jumped right into a separatist trap. Somehow a virus infecting the main computer has scrambled the hyperspace jump coordinates, and now the companies on board were outnumbered and without reinforcements, deep in separatist space. A few last, desperate SOSs to nobody, and the ship was quickly overwhelmed with fire. The Resolute was going down. But not before each of the escape pods could be jettisoned.

————- Chapter Six: Rescue. -————

- as always sorry for the wait and length. But here you go! May receive small edits later. -

There were a few moons in the system to check over, and they couldn’t waste much time. This was separatist controlled space and they had already shot down one Venator. Plo Koon didn’t want his fleet to be next. Still, he opted to be deployed with the rest of his Wolfpack. Leaving the fleet to Admiral Coburn. Now that he was closer to the system, he could feel Anakin and Ahsoka in the force. He took a gunship down with Wolffe and his personal squad to the command outlet the message had been sent from, as that was where they were most likely to find them.

Echo pulled up beside Jesse, now free of Kix as Kix got too fed up with the constant tripping and was now walking by himself. Jesse was still carrying Dogma, who was resting his head on Jesse’s, eyes closed.

“did he actually fall asleep?” Echo poked him in his injured side and he jolted awake with a hiss of pain.

“Well he’s not sleeping anymore” comments Jesse as echo flinches in sympathy, clearly not having intending for that poke to hurt badly.

“You karking bantha fur osik rag shabuir better kriffing have one hell of a karking good reason for doing that.” Dogma cursed angrily. Kix stifled a chuckle.

“No I just wanted to see if you were awake.”

“Jesse, if you would be so kind.” Jesse took a step closer to Echo and Dogma smacked him upside the head.

“Hey no, that’s not fair! You two teamed up on me you’re not meant to do that!” Echo complained, rubbing his head

“You did deserve that” says coric.

“You too?! You’re supposed to be the neutral party you shabuir!”

Tup continues his trek forward, now using his weapon as a walking stick, when he hears a clones voice. He can’t make out what they said but he stops and looks around.

He hears shouting and chatter but when he determines the direction they’re coming from and heads towards it, he doesn’t see anything.

Great. More hallucinations. He thinks. Maybe from the dehydration this time. He ignores it when he hears a more clear

“Hey! Trooper! Over here!”

He starts walking again, in the same direction, but he hears running footsteps behind him. He turns around and points his stick at whatever it is.

“Who is this!? Are you even real or am I just actually going crazy now?”

He’s face to face with a Wolfpack clone. But he doesn’t lower his weapon until he gets his response.

“Woah, vod calm down. This is the 104th, here to retrieve you. I’m sparker. Come with me, let’s get you back to the transports ok?” He had the signature warmth of the 104th’s relief devision but tup couldn’t quite believe it. Still, he cast his stick aside and followed Sparker back to his squad.

He gained a few strange looks from the rest of the squad as he still looked quite wild. A wave of self consciousness washed over him.

They located a couple other 501st members as well before returning to the gunship, marked with the signature “plo’s bros”. There he was looked over by a medic, and told to sit tight for the trip back to the venators in orbit.

Plo Koon’s gunship landed at the outpost that had relayed the message. Three troopers were waiting outside the command post at attention as the general stepped out. Wolffe was right on his tail

“At ease, troopers. You must be Rex, Fives and Hardcase correct? We received your transmission. It was quite... entertaining. Trooper Fives, do you mind sharing what discussion topic had you so passionate? You have permission to speak freely.”

Fives could feel Rex’s glare burning holes into the sides of his head. They had actually heard that? That was embarrassing. “It was uh... wether or not how many lightsaber blades an individual had related to how much of a bitch they were... sir. Among other things.”

Rex shook his head disappointed and embarrassed, hardcase was struggling to contain his laughter, and one of the Wolfpack members passed some credits to one of the pilots. Wolffe was definitely grinning Impishly at Rex. Definitely. Plo Koon only shook his head amusedly. “Well captain, do you happen to know where your two lightsaber wielding individuals are?”

“Oh yes sir. They should be back soon. They got bored and so made a small speeder bike track. They’ve been racing eachother.”

“Then we had better get the gunship out of the way. Wouldn’t want to skew the results.”

No doubt the Wolfpack was already placing bets. They were notorious for it.

As the men took their places along the main road, eagerly awaiting the results, Rex finally asked Wolffe the question that was burning in his mind. “Have you heard from the other squads yet? Did you find anyone else?”

“Sorry Rex, haven’t had any contact with them since they were deployed. But it’s still early. Just you wait and I’m sure at least a few will turn up. Don’t worry”

Waiting, Rex could do. Not worrying? Not so much.

Cheers erupted from the small group as the motors of the speeders came into earshot. Anakin jetted last the crowd and with a quick 90° turn he drifted to a stop. Ahsoka wasn’t far behind, but Rex had no doubt in his mind that anakin had lapped her. Ahsoka might be a daredevil but Anakin was a true speed demon. Always had been. The Two of them dismounted and met with Plo Koon as the Wolfpack paid their bets.

“Ahsoka, Skywalker. It’s good to see you two.” Plo Koon greats them.

“And it’s great to see you Master Plo” Ahsoka responds.

“Now, I assume you two have had enough of this planet?”

“Definitely” they both respond at once.

Jesse and echos squad overhear a series of howls in the distance. Multiple groups communicating to each other. Jesse signals for them to ‘stop’ and be ‘silent.’ Coric disobeys.

“No. No! Howl back!” Coric howls as loud as he can, to Jesse’s horror.

“What are you doing!? You’re going to lead those animals right to us!”

“Those aren’t animals! It’s the Wolfpack!” Coric howls again.

“It’s official. He’s lost it. Good job everyone, we actually drove him crazy.” Says echo.

Coric gets a response and howls once more, before the air is quite again. “I’m not crazy. But rescue is coming now”

“You can’t possibly know that. The howling thing is fake, we all know that.” Jesse isn’t having it.

But in just a few minutes two Wolfpack members, sinker and boost make contact with the group.

“Hey! 501st! Coric! Come over here! Man you all look terrible!”

“Yeah Thanks boost. Truth is we all feel mildly terrible too. Here to get us off planet I hope?” Coric walks over to the two, and the rest of the group follows. Jesse and echo are completely stunned.

“Yep! We were just about to leave. You were going to be left behind you know. You all got lucky. Which one of you was howling by the way?” Asks sinker, as they lead the group in the direction of the transports.

“That would be me.” Says coric.

“Ah, figured. Pretty impressive, but not as impressive as this.” Sinker takes a deep breath and howls so loud it makes the rest of the groups ears hurt. Kix winces. Boost laughs.

Rex darts around the hangar. This is the last batch of gunships and he’s still missing so many clones. He feels terrible. Especially about Kix and Echo. He can’t stand the thought of leaving any clones behind, but he knows they won’t all come back. He spots Tup getting out of one of the gunships and rushes to him

“Tup! You’re alive! I was worried when Hardcase and Fives told me that had lost you. Are you doing alright?”

“I’m gonna kill those karking nerf herders. They left me! I fell down a cliff and I don’t think they even noticed I was gone!”

“They looked for you. But fives thought you were dead. With good reason. How did you even survive that fall?”

“I didn’t jump, I slid. I rolled the entire way down.”

“Alright kid. I’m glad to have you back. You’ll have to give Hardcase and Fives a stern talking to about that.” Rex patted Tup on the shoulder before moving onto the next gunship.

His eyes fell on the group leaving this one. The group was larger than the rest, sitting at 5. Dogma, Jesse, Coric-

“Echo, Kix!”

Rex ran over and hugged the two tightly.

“Huh. Guess I am your favourite after all.”

Rex smacked Echo in the back of the head. “You’re not my favourite. I don’t have favourites. But I’m sorry for leaving you two. I had to lure a group of droids away, and I got lost.”

“That’s fine. We survived. Mostly.” Says Echo

“Thanks to Coric. Echo would have killed me if it weren’t for him”

Rex gives echo an unimpressed look, but he can’t stay mad as he’s still to relieved at seeing them both alive.

Tup storms over to where Hardcase and Fives are discussing something with Sinker and Boost.

“You two LEFT me! I was all alone! Cause you two wouldn’t too arguing long enough to notice I FELL OFF A CLIFF!”

“TUP!” Fives immediately scooped up his little brother in a bone crushing hug. “I’m so sorry! I won’t do it again! I’m not gonna leave you anywhere again and I’ll stop picking fights with Hardcase I promiseeee”

“No you won’t.”

“Ok maybe I won’t but still I love you and I’m sorry. Hardcase, you can come in too.” Fives knew he wanted too, but sometimes Hardcase needed an invitation. He joined the hug wrapping his arms around the both of them but not too tightly.

Rex watched as the troopers found their brothers, and each made note of who was there. He waited for more gunships, there was still a significant portion of the 501st missing. But the last wave had arrived, and Rex tried not to think too hard about the ones he would have to leave behind, as he saw the stars turn into smears and the planet disappear out the viewport.

Wolffe put his hand on Rex’s shoulder. How long had he been standing next to him?

“You know... we did the best we could. I’m sorry Rex.”

“I know... I know.”

“Why don’t you go join the others? Some of them have some pretty interesting stories to tell. I’m sure you do too.”

“I will, thanks.”

Wolffe knew the thanks was for more than the offer. He watched Rex go join the others, laughing and enjoying the company of those who were still there.

[banashee]

Part 14/25 of my second round of @badthingshappenbingo​

please mind the tags and warnings on AO3! This is a heavy one with an open,potentially unhappy ending!

  Entirely useless

 The noise of his own breaking bones will haunt Tony forever.

 The agonizing crumble of small, delicate finger bones under the weight of heavy boots is shooting through his entire arm, and if he wasn’t trying desperately to keep breathing, Tony would have screamed bloody murder. But as it is, gasping like a fish out of water around the piece of dirty cloth they gagged him with, is pretty much all he can do.

 There isn’t even any time to get to terms with the fact that his left hand is now a mangled, broken, painfully throbbing mess. One of the captors steps around him, casually and uncaring like none of this is a big deal at all. He stops just inches away from Tony’s other hand. The threat is clear.

 Tony forces himself to keep calm and       not panic.  

 “So, here is what is going to happen, Stark. You can choose to oblige and build the weapon. You’ll get to keep your other hand, but in exchange, he will suffer for your mistakes. Past, present and future.” The guy nods over to Clint, who is out of it and chained to the ceiling. Despite everything, he seems to be listening to every word he can catch.

 Tony's head snaps around to look at his friend.

 Clint is barely conscious, by some sort of miracle. These bastards have worked him over quite well by now. He is pale, way too pale, and the only patches of skin that are not ghostly white, are the places where blue and black bruises are turning into ugly yellow. Dried up blood is crusted just about everywhere, staining his clothes in way too many places.

 He’s got broken bones in several places and two bullet wounds; only entries, no exits. The bullets are still stuck in his legs, and there is no way of knowing how long he’ll be able to hold on. Clint has lost a lot of blood, and there is no way for him to do anything but take more and more hits. That, and taunting their captors, keeping their attention on him rather than on Tony.

 It’s how Tony managed to secretly build       other things     than requested. He might have gotten away with it if there was no time. But time is, unfortunately, not in their favor here.

 Now, he’s paying the price. His broken hand is still throbbing painfully.

 Despite everything, Clint is eerily calm. Maybe he is just out of it from pain and blood loss, which is entirely possible, but there are moments where he seems to be more alert. It is unnerving, but necessary to survive this sort of situation as often as he has.

 His eyes meet Tony for a moment, and despite everything, there is determination in the archers gaze. He can’t talk, or sign - neither of them can right now. But they have known each other for long enough and well enough to know what they would say.

     ‘Stay alive.’  

 The masked man in front of Tony moves, just a bit, but it is enough to interrupt the eye contact between the captives. There is no way this isn't deliberate.

 “One wrong move, one single attempt to do anything else than ordered, and you can say goodbye to your other hand. After that, you will watch me blow your friend’s brain out of his skull. Is that clear?”

 It’s painfully easy, and yet, it works.

 Tony swallows a thick lump, and if there was any way he could kill these men quickly enough to get away with it, one handed or not, he would. He would do it in a heartbeat.

     -  

     The really sad part is, this mess isn’t even part of their mission. Not even remotely. But as it happens, like it does way too often for their taste, they are in the wrong place at the wrong time. Suddenly Tony finds himself attacked from behind. Inwardly cursing himself that he doesn’t wear his suit, he starts throwing punches. He does so out of sheer instinct, but his efforts are entirely useless. Whoever is behind him just grabs him, effectively holding his arms locked behind his back. Cold metal is shoved around them - handcuffs. As they close, it pinches some of his skin because whoever does it clearly doesn’t care if they hurt him.  

     Then, he finds himself pushed forward and stuffed into the trunk of a car.  

     Only a split second later, a sharp elbow collides with his guts and Tony can barely swallow the bile that rises up his throat  

     .“What the - oof!”  

     “    Fuck      .”  Clint’s curse is short but passionate.    

     He is right on top of Tony now, their bodies pushed uncomfortably against one another in the cramped space. As soon as the trunk closes over them, everything goes dark around them. This looks bad, really bad.  

     “Did you see their faces?” Clint asks, whispering just loud enough for Tony to catch it. He can feel him shake his head against him.  

     “No. You?”  

     “One, but only for a second. I don’t know who he is.” And this of all things, bugs him the most. They know nothing about their captors.  

     The drive takes hours - or at least, it feels like it does. It might very well be that these bastards take turns and drive in circles just to throw them off, making it impossible to trace the way.  

     In the privacy of his own head, Tony keeps repeating as much of it as he can, taking note of every turn and the time passing in between. He knows that Clint is doing the same, entirely silent just like him. It is a useful skill to have, exactly for cases like this one, but the way is so long and impossibly erratic - there is no way they don’t do it on purpose.  

     They only stop twice, for roughly twenty seconds - whether that is for a reason or just another ploy to confuse them, they wouldn’t be able to tell.  

     Occasionally, their hands brush over whatever they can reach of each other. It’s a quiet, solid comfort. It’s not the first sticky situation they’ve found themselves in together, and knowing their luck, it certainly won’t be their last.  

     “We can do this, shit happens.” Neither of them says it out loud, but the sentiment is clear.  

     When the car stops again, the trunk is pulled open so suddenly and violently, the light blinds both Clint and Tony for long enough to be distracting.  

     “Shit!”  

     “Ah! Motherfucker!”  

     Wíth much less coordination than he usually would have, Clint tries to attack whoever is closest. He kicks out, hard, and his booted foot collides with something soft and probably human.  

     The guy cries out of pain, but before he can react, one of the others fires his gun twice - both bullets find their target, and Clint folds in half. Both shots hit him in the legs, and there is no way for him to walk any more, let alone attack. His hands are still cuffed, and there is no way he could free himself fast enough without causing more damage or making the situation worse - at least, they haven’t shot at Tony. Clint refuses to think the word “yet” at the end, even in the privacy of his own head.  

             There is barely any time to react, anyway, because they are being held down, blindfolded and gagged with reeking, old fabric. It makes him want to hurl, and the touch itself is cold, uncaring and efficient.  

     These men aren’t some fumbling idiots, they’re professionals.  

     As much as Tony wants to lash out at them, he doesn’t. If they want a way to get out of this, he’ll have to be the one to take care of it. His only hope is that Clint won’t bleed out until then, and that he can find out what they even want from him.  

     -  

 The masked man is still waiting for an answer, and he starts pulling a knife from his belt.

 “Answer. Or we’ll start this all over.”

     ‘How the fuck am I supposed to talk when you gagged me, you asshole?!’    Tony thinks, and glares at their captor for just a split second, then his head nods over to the table where, up until a few hours ago, they had forced him into work on the weapon they wanted. Or, at least they thought it to be a weapon - Tony had managed to bullshit his way through it for way, way longer than he originally thought he’d get away with, hoping to hold them off for long enough until they either find a way to escape or until help arrives.

 Unlucky for them, their captors are not nearly as clueless about the technology as he’d hoped.

 As a result, they decided to wreck his hand and threaten Clint. It always goes like this, does it?

 “Do what we tell you to or we’ll kill your friend.”

 It’s the most uncreative, yet most useful threat in existence, and Tony hates them for it. He hates them with everything he’s got.

 His broken hand is throbbing as Tony cradles it close to his chest, trying to breathe through the pain. With a mouthful of bile, Tony stands in front of the desk and stares down on it without really seeing anything.

  One of the captors stands behind him, close enough for him to feel the hot, stinking breath in the back of nis neck. This is almost worse than the nozzle of the gun that is pressed against his head. If he were to look up - he doesn’t dare risk it - he would see that they’re doing the same to Clint.

 He is no longer awake, a dead weight in the chains that hold him up. It must be painful, it must be dislocating his joints. There is a fresh tickle of blood on the side of his head, dripping to the dirty concrete floor beneath him.

     ‘I will find a way out. I don’t know how, but I’ll get us out of here.’     Tony keeps thinking this over and over again, a feverish mantra hammering against his skull from the inside.

 He hopes and wishes, with everything he’s got, that it’ll be enough.

    *+~

Prompt: Hand Stomp

                             Notes:  

Warnings: - Blood, violence, torture - graphic desciption of broken bones - kidnapping, hostage situation - gun violence - threatened murder of a friend