#trying to shove each other down a flight of stairs. there was.

[sforzesco]

SO this! is about this specific entry in Burchard's Diary--

The Diary of John Burchard, trans. A. H. Mathew

--and the APERITIO ORIS rite (the mouth thing they keep talking about), but it's also a little about Ascanio's friction with the Vatican and the della Rovere-Ascanio rivalry

Politics and Dynasty: Underaged Cardinals in the Catholic Church, Jennifer Mara DeSilva

Popes, Cardinals and War: The Military Church in Renaissance and Early Modern Europe, David Chambers

Ascanio Maria Sforza: la parabola politica di un cardinale-principe del Rinascimento, Marco Pellegrini

[kingofthecotas]

postscript | ao3

future fic | ~1.5k words

love writing post-reconciliation with no idea how they got there

——

Marc gets in three and a half hours after he was supposed to.

Storms in Japan meant a delayed flight out of Tokyo, a missed connection in Doha, and landing in Rimini just after two in the morning. By the time he collects his bag, finds his car, and makes the drive home, he’s ready to sleep for the next twelve hours.

The house is mostly dark when he opens the front door, holding his breath as if that’s going to make him any quieter, and gently slides his keys onto the hall table. There’s a light on in the living room, though, and he slips down the hallway, leaving his suitcase by the door.

He hasn’t had enough time here yet, caught in the winds of a busy season, but there’s traces of him: Ducati cap slung on the coatrack; a pair of cycling shoes under the stairs, the decorative glass jar filled with the peppered colours of Aragón stones—they’d given it to him on the podium along with his trophy, said this place is yours, and he’d had to bite back tears.

He throws his coat over the banisters, over a BMW WRT jacket, and follows the warm light down the hall.

Valentino is sitting up on the sofa—well, propped up by his loosely balled hand against his cheek, knuckles pressed into his face. The throw blanket, the one he hates, is twisted around his thighs; Marc had snagged it from the household section of some English supermarket, and Valentino likes to complain that it shits fluff everywhere, it’s all over my sofa, it’s all over my jeans, Marc. His eyes are closed, shadowed in the lamplight.

Marc swallows a fond smile and kicks his shoes off, leaving them in the middle of the rug, before he slides himself onto the sofa beside Valentino and pulls the blanket over his legs.

Valentino blinks out of his doze, heavy eyelids and scrunched expression, but it all softens when he finds Marc next to him. “You’re back.”

“Shit journey,” Marc whispers. “You didn’t have to wait.” He always waits.

Valentino shakes his head. “I fell asleep watching the, ah, IMSA. Actually.”

“Of course.” The TV is dark, no laptop in sight, but Marc lets him have it. “Must have been exciting.”

“Mm.” Valentino yawns. “You must be tired. Very hard to be a MotoGP rider these days. All these first-class flights.”

“Terrible, yes. I’m comfortable here, unless your back cannot handle it.”

A smile cracks. Victory. “I am fine.”

“Good,” Marc says, and stretches up to kiss him.

The first time they’d done this again, pressed their lips together after nearly ten years apart, Valentino had shoved him against the wall too hard, overeager, and Marc had nearly headbutted him in the nose and they’d had to laugh at themselves—Marc thinks he would have cried otherwise, at how apart they’d grown, how they’d forgotten how to move together.

No such problems now; they aren’t starving for each other, trying to breathe it in after years of suffocating. It’s—and Marc never thought he would say this about Valentino—easy.

Marc usually runs hot, Valentino cooler, in a way that makes Valentino roll away in the heat of summer nights, grumbling get the fuck away from me, and curl around him as soon as the temperature drops again. His feet, under the blanket, find Marc’s legs.

“Vale,” Marc hisses, because he may as well have pressed an ice cube against his ankles. It’s late October, and Valentino’s core temperature appears to be the same as that of their fridge.

“We can go to bed.”

“You said you were fine.”

“I am fine.”

“Put some fucking socks on.”

Valentino just laughs into the top of Marc’s head. “Ah, you are tired. We should go to bed, yes? You must be stiff from the plane.”

Because he’s laughing, Marc acquiesces, downs blades. “Fine.” His arm is sore, and from the way Valentino is rubbing it, it must be obvious.

They might play at sword-fighting, feints and jabs that are incomprehensible to anyone else—Pecco had watched them bickering in Misano, forehead pinched, until Valentino accepted defeat with a delighted laugh—but in the quiet, between duels, it’s gentle.

“I can get the hot water bottle,” Valentino offers, “or I put the electric blanket on the bed while you were away. Is it bad?”

“Not bad,” Marc whispers. Just hard airport seats and the autumn-night chill. He’s got the rest of his life to get used to it.

“Come on,” Valentino says, soft now. “Ducati will not be happy if I am not taking care of their rider. Plenty of rest before the next race. You know how it is.”

“Oh, but I thought you were watching the endurance race?”

“Probably for the best, you know.” Valentino lets out an exaggerated sigh. “I might sign up to race in another championship if I am not careful.”

“Give you something to do, no?”

“Ah,” Valentino says, “but who would wait up for you with the light on?”

“Not you, you fell asleep.”

Another huff of laughter. Vale lets him get away with a lot these days, silent apologies Marc has already accepted for transgressions long since forgiven. Valentino’s eyes had been huge the first time, uncomprehending, what do you mean okay?

Forgiveness had always come easy to Marc, relatively speaking, even with Valentino. Especially with Valentino.

They peel themselves off the sofa, untangle the blanket—Vale picks a thread of fluff from his jogging bottoms with a sigh, then bends down to scoop up Marc’s abandoned trainers and a long-forgotten wine glass. Marc folds the blanket, places it over the sofa arm, waits for Valentino to head towards the hallway so he can follow. Glass on the hall table: they can wash it tomorrow. Shoes under the stairs. Suitcase left by the door.

“Who has your trophy?”

“Someone in the team.” Marc shrugs. “It will get home somehow.”

“Too many this year for you to keep track of, hm?”

“One hundred and eight,” Marc reminds him, sing-song, and almost relishes the flash in Valentino’s eyes. There’s no danger in it, not anymore.

“I will have to make Pecco work harder, then. We are training on Wednesday.”

“Promise I won’t run him off the track.”

“You are getting soft,” Valentino says with a smile that’s all teeth, but holds the door to their bedroom open and flicks the light switch.

“Like you?”

“Maybe.” And he says it like he doesn’t mind. “Brush your teeth, you smell like you have been on a plane for twelve hours.”

“I have no idea why that is.”

“Mm.”

When Marc is finished in the bathroom, quick shower, teeth brushed, shivering a little as he dries off, he crawls into bed and can’t hold back a sigh at the warmth beneath his skin.

Valentino watches him, so fucking smug—Marc used to hate that expression, used to grit his teeth and lift his chin against it, but now it’s closer to satisfaction, that he was right, that Marc needed something and he got to give it.

“This is the best thing we ever bought,” Marc says with conviction. “My favourite thing in the whole world, maybe.” Álex can laugh at him for having an electric blanket, my God, you’re old, but the heat of it against his arm is heavenly.

“Your favourite, hm?” Valentino smiles again, easy as breathing. “I will remember this.”

There’s no prodding, no you said it wasn’t bad, no see, I told you, wasn’t I right? No knife sliding through the chink in the armour.

“Eh, you are up there as well. Maybe third on the list.”

“So high?” Valentino stretches out his leg, lets Marc move closer. “There must be at least ten bikes you like more than me, yes?”

“It is close,” Marc murmurs, “but you have a lot going in your favour.” His hands find Valentino’s waist, his stomach—still toned, racing GT cars is no walk in the park—and he presses his cheek against Valentino’s outstretched upper arm.

“Yes?”

“Well, you put the blanket on the bed.”

“Ah, yes.” Valentino lets him shift, shift again until he’s comfortable, without complaint, and offers him a tired smile. It’s one of Marc’s favourite smiles, because it’s one just for him. “This is okay?”

Marc closes his eyes, sighing at the brush of fingers on the back of his neck. His arm will be stiff tomorrow, but this will help, and he has ridden through worse. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Vale repeats, and his fingers curl through Marc’s hair. “I bought eggs for breakfast also.”

“You are getting soft,” Marc tells him, grinning loose and easy where it might have been sharp, once.

Valentino only smiles back, and the part of Marc that still gears up for a fight, buried deep but there, stands down. Three years of this do not erase everything that came before, but every minute they spend like this is another coat of paint over the bloody stain. That’s fine; he has time.

He’s got the rest of his life to get used to this.

[aithusarosekiller]

10 year old black brothers trying to find new nicknames for each other and the second Sirius suggests 'Lulu' he gets shoved down a flight of stairs

[rogue-durin-16]

TOO LATE?

Request: hey honeybun<33 can I request prompt #56 with either Luz or Lieb? Can it be post war, they bump into each other or something? Also can it be angsty??? I love your writing style and I'm so glad you're back!!!!

Summary: Joe had lost his chance. If there was any glimpse of hope about it, it vanished in Chuck Grant's narrow staircase, thanks to an unexpected encounter with an old friend.

Prompt:

56. "I'm happy with them." "That's not fair!" "Why?" "'Cause I loved you first!"

Pairing/s: Joe Liebgott x Reader/George Luz x Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

Requested by: anon

Band Of Brothers: @fernando-jpg @chubbypotatoepie @tvserie-s-world @clumsy-wonderland @lordndsaviorwinters

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @comfort-reads

Warnings: language, allusions to sex

A/N: dear anon, I don't know why you'd do this to yourself. You know it's gonna be Angsty™ when I write it in one go at 1am lmaooo. Enjoy <3

Band of Brothers masterlist

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

The stairwell in Chuck Grant's building was quiet, filled with the muffled sounds of the city outside and the worn groans of old wood under my feet. I wasn’t expecting to see anyone, least of all him. But there he was—Joe Liebgott, coming up the steps, freezing in his tracks as soon as he saw me.

Chuck mentioned it; that Joe started to drop by from time to time. After a couple of years of radio silence, even Grant found it odd. He wasn't complaining, though, so I made no comment on it, but I was undeniably bitter about Joe not reaching out to me at any point —after what we had been through, I expected a letter.

At least during the first few months. Then I managed to put it in the back of my mind, even after Chuck told me he had had him over a few times. But with the man frozen in front of me, there was nothing I couldn't do to ignore it.

For a second, we both just stood there, staring like we’d seen a ghost. But then Joe broke the silence with that easy, almost casual look that hadn’t changed since the war.

"Look what the cat dragged in." He climbed down the few stairs he had left behind from the fourth flight in order to give me space to go down.

"Long time no see." My replied was laced with a shy, half smile directed to the ground below us instead of at him.

"How have y—"

"I should get g—" I was quite sure he caught my sentence, but maybe I wanted to give his a chance. "What?"

"How have you been?" He leaned back against the landing's rusty railing, eyes roaming my form. He was seizing me up. I did the same.

"Could've been better, but could've been worse." I shrugged, a bit lost in every slight change his face and body had suffered since I had last seen him. "You?"

A shrug. He pretended to think about it. "Pretty much the same. Busy."

"I figured." It was the remainder of the betrayal I had felt a few weeks ago. Not too noticeable, but by the look on his face, he still knew me enough to catch on it.

"You mad?"

Was I?

I rolled my eyes with a soft sigh. "A little bit, yeah. I think." I chuckled at my own confession.

He scratched the back of his neck, finding it a bit difficult to meet my gaze, despite it not holding any real resentment. "'M sorry, sweetheart."

"Joe Liebgott apologizing? That's new."

"Alright, quit it."

There was a familiar fondness wrapping around us, one I presumed long lost.

"I'm glad you're seeing Chuck. It's doing him some good to have you around." It was genuine. I think that was the reason why Joe turned bashful. He almost looked embarrassed about it.

"I could tell you were visiting, ya know?" He shoved his hands in his coat's pockets. "You still use that awful perfume. Sticks everywhere."

"You're so rude." I laughed, trying to go past the fact that he still remembered the perfume I used to wear back in Toccoa.

We simultaneously stole careful glances at each other in silence. I would have never imagined Joe Liebgott at a loss of words, but there was a first time for everything and we weren't the same kids who couldn't shut their mouths to save their lives.

Or perhaps the conversation was over and neither of us wanted to acknowledge it.

Squeezing my purse, I mustered the courage to bid him goodbye. "I should g—"

“Do you miss them?” he asked, tone casual, though I could hear something tight in it, like he’d been thinking about the question for a long time.

“Who?” I asked, then quickly understood. “Oh, the boys?” Joe nodded and I forced a small smile. “Yeah, kind of. I mean, I talk to Malark whenever I can. Bill writes me letters, surprisingly.” I laughed, a little wistfully. “Not that I’m complaining, but I didn’t expect that. Ran into Tab recently, too—crazy as it sounds. George…”

My voice trailed off, and Joe tilted his head, noticing my hesitation.

I shouldn't have mentioned him, but I had a knack for getting carried away whilst talking to Joe.

"George what?"

I felt heat creeping up my neck and tried to look as casual as possible, though I knew I had already given it away. "It’s just… complicated."

"Complicated?" he asked, leaning forward, curiosity bright in his eyes. "What d’you mean, complicated?"

I didn't want to lie to him —not after all this time apart—, but the truth was uncalled for.

"Oh c’mon, tell me." He wasn’t letting this go. "I know I'm not the brightest but it can't be that complicated."

I rolled my eyes and reluctantly gave in, glancing away as I spoke. "I lost contact with him for a few months but uhm- well one day he gave me a call. Said he got my number from Toye." I cleared my throat. "He invited me over, y'know, to catch up. I stayed with him and his family for a while, and…" I flashed a tentative glance at Joe who seemed a little too slow picking up on the direction this was about to take. "we- uhm, we ended up hooking up."

Unexpectedly, he laughed; it was obnoxious, louder than necessary, his voice echoing up the narrow stairwell.

"What’s funny?" I crossed my arms, suddenly annoyed, though I could tell by his expression that he wasn’t just laughing at the situation.

"Nothin', just-" He shook his head, a crooked grin on his face. "Out of everyone, I’d never have guessed it'd be George Luz."

I raised an eyebrow, not sure whether to be insulted or amused. "Why? What’s that supposed to mean?"

"I dunno... 'cause he’s George, and you’re…" he motioned his hand vaguely at my form. "you." Joe shrugged, like it was obvious. "Didn't see it happening."

"Well, guess it happened." I said, shrugging back. I didn't know what to do to get out of that situation.

Although I had walked into the conversation by myself, this wasn't the ideal scenario to talk about George and I's circumstances, nor the ideal person.

"Was it a one-time thing?" Joe pressed on, and he sounded almost afraid of what I might answer.

"Uhm... no." I felt us sank deeper into a hole we wouldn't be able to crawl out of. Why was it so hard to tell him? "No, actually it's been happening for a while now."

His expression had a certain intent, as if he waited for an answer to a question he hadn’t asked. "What is it about him?"

The inquiry caught me off guard, and I felt strangely self-conscious. "I guess... gosh it's gonna sound so cliché." I half-laughed, feeling the blood rushing to my cheeks. “He just... he makes me laugh."

Joe’s laughter turned hollow, and his expression shifted slightly, though I couldn’t quite read it. "I used to make you laugh, too."

I met his gaze, suddenly unsure, memories flooding back. "Yeah, you did."

"So... why not me?" He tried to sound like he was joking. His humor had never been the healthiest but I knew not even this fell into that category.

Although the question threw me off, I decided it was best to play dumb and keep the mood light.

I decided it was best to keep him at arm’s length. "Don't know. Maybe 'cause you didn’t invite me to stay at your place for a month." I joked with a giggle that sounded anything but truthful.

"Damn, that's tough." The attempt at banter rang out of him, his eyes tentatively meeting my elusive gaze. "What if I did that now?"

I blinked, confusion plastered all over my visage. "What?"

"What if I invited you over?" He didn’t look away, his expression uncharacteristically intense, like he was finally saying something he had wanted to for a long time.

"Joe…" my fingers once more clutched my purse, feeling unsteady, unsure of how to respond. The words we usually threw at each other so easily were suddenly too heavy.

"Too late?" he asked, the desperation showing now, cutting through his usual swagger.

The question hung between us, and I didn’t know what to say. I didn't even know if there was anything to say at all.

It had taken us so long to get to this point; I wasn't sure if it was worth it anymore.

Then he took a step back, his expression twisting into something I hadn’t seen from him. Some kind of pain flashed through his eyes. "I don’t think this is fair, y’know?"

"What d’you mean?" I questioned, although I wasn't eager to find out where this would go.

"I mean…" A bitter scoff resounded against the landing's walls, making me flinch. "I don’t think it’s fair that I just what—lost my chance? To George Luz?" His voice grew louder as he threw his hands up in the air.

I blankly stared at him, dumbfounded by his attitude that so clearly came from a wounded ego. "Joe, you didn’t call. You didn’t even write. All I had was radio silence for a good couple of years. What did you expect?"

There was indignation in his sneer. He turned his head away from the sight of me. "I needed time."

I nodded, trying to seem understanding despite everything, but due to his hostility, I couldn't refrain my tone from sharpening. "Yeah, I know. We all have our rhythms."

Joe scoffed, the noise escaping in a sour huff. "And yours just happened to match Luz’s, huh?"

That hit a nerve. I straightened, pushing myself off the wall where I had fought to stay leaned on until now. He was hurt, but that wasn't an excuse to take it out on me. One would think, after all we had been through, he would have already learned it.

"Fuck you." I muttered, turning to leave, but he was quick to hold me back by my bicep.

I yanked my arm free, meeting his gaze with a glare, and I would have sworn they didn't have that glassiness to them a few minutes earlier.

"You jealous?" I challenged, not caring if I was pushing him too far.

He laughed harshly, his mouth twisting in a forced smirk. "Of what? Luz?"

"Yeah." I was daring him to deny it. He knew it.

Joe rolled his eyes. "You’re kidding me."

"Oh, so you’re not jealous?” I leaned forward, watching his face closely, but he didn't venture to meet my eyes again.

His jaw clenched tightly, his expression betraying him.

"You know why you’re jealous, Joe?" I pushed further, the words spilling out before I could think twice. "Because you didn’t have the balls to do what Luz did when you had your chance."

He snapped, and his voice came out in a near-shout. "You think that’s it? That I didn’t have the balls to get into your pants?!"

Vexation and anger flooding through me, flaring me up until it wasn't containable. "You think that’s all this is about?!" I felt my own voice rising, almost laughing at how ridiculous he sounded. "You think all Luz did was 'get into my pants'?!"

"What, he wrote you a love letter and proposed?" Joe spat, doing a half turn, sarcasm heavy in his voice. "Give me a fuckin' break."

When he turned back to face me, I gave his chest a firm shove. "Told you it was complicated. I'm sooo sorry, darlin'," my words were venomous and they clearly stung him. "I forgot you have the emotional range of a goddamn brick and can’t understand anything beyond that."

"Fine!" Joe shortened the already ridiculous short distance between us. He was past the point of backing down. "You wanna know the truth? Luz just wanted to fuck you! That's it!"

The words hit hard, sharper than I expected. That same thought had relentlessly haunted me, not much with Luz, but with him. My loud scoff was sour and sad all at once. "And you didn’t?"

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. I watched him, waiting, knowing there was nothing he could say to take back that moment.

"God, Joe," I whispered, shaking my head. "You're so stupid, it's painful to watch." It was my turn to step back. His chest heaved, although he was trying hard to conceal it. Tipper used to say if we didn't end up together, we would burn each other to the ground. He would be so disappointed if he could see us now. "You don't get it, do you?"

He looked at me, desperate and confused. This was most likely his last chance and he was blowing it. "Get what?"

"That maybe —just maybe— I wanted it to be more than that. That maybe-" My voice broke off, words I had never said getting caught up in my throat. "I wanted us to be more than that."

The long awaited confession was so out of place and time, it was as painful to admit as it was to listen.

"And yeah," I added, feeling the weight of the truth crashing us both. "I want to be with him. And that’s why it’s complicated, Joe."

He stared at me, his shoulders sagging and the frustration melting into something closer to defeat.

"He doesn’t care about you." it was a whispered lie, more to convince himself than to hurt me.

It hurt me either way. That's where the following revelation came from, because I would have never said that to him otherwise.

"You wanna know what happened, Joe?" I sounded tired. More tired than I had been in two years. "He told me he was in love with me." His face twisted, the confession hitting him like a blow. "And if you tell me he's lying I'm gonna punch you in the face, because turns out I'm happy with him."

It was the first time I had acknowledged it. And it had been in front of Joe Liebgott, out of everyone.

"Well, that’s not fucking fair." he muttered under his ragged breath, almost too quiet to hear.

I found myself once again bewildered by his words. "Why isn’t it fair, Joe?"

He seethed, his eyes dark with something that looked painfully close to heartbreak. "Because I loved you first."

I just stood there, frozen, his words lingering in the silence that suddenly felt so loud. The anger that had lit me up moments before faded away, leaving behind a strange hollowness.

Joe's face was still twisted with deep sorrow. And yet, even now, he was clinging to his anger, like it was the only thing keeping him upright.

I swallowed, struggling to find anything to say, something to fill the empty space between us. But there was nothing.

He was waiting, maybe even hoping I would give him something to hang onto, but I was tired.

Tired of fighting, tired of waiting, tired of wishing things had been different. Tired of trying to understand him when he kept pushing me away.

"Okay." It was all I could manage to get out without breaking down.

He watched me, his expression hardening as my silence stretched on, hurt seeping into his eyes until there was no anger.

I took a step back and he clenched his jaw, his mouth twitched as if he was trying to measure his words; maybe to craft his emotions into something that would reel me back in.

But that just wasn't in his nature.

"Yeah," he hissed, a pained chuckle escaping him. "Thought so."

I was ready to clap back, to tell him it wasn’t that simple, that none of this was simple, but the words felt pointless now. And I knew if I didn’t walk away, I would get drawn back into the storm of feelings that nearly consumed me once.

I couldn't do that, so I turned and left, my footsteps heavy as I went down the stairs, his stare burning a hole on my back.

When I reached the first floor, I allowed myself to stop, clinging onto the railing. A part of me still hoped he would have called after me, say something—anything— that could have made this hurt less. But the only sound was the low hum of the city outside, filtering in through the paper thin walls.

I blinked away the burn at the corners of my eyes and climbed down the last flight of stairs. By the time I reached the building's entrance, all I could hear was the thunderous stammering of my heart; needless to say I missed the fast stomps on the staircase.

The second time Joe tugged on my arm to hold me back, it nearly put me under cardiac arrest.

I barely had time to fully turn around to face him before his palm cupped my cheek, bringing my parted lips to meet his own.

I had fantasized with that kiss so many times, and it was nothing like I had imagined.

Maybe it would have been different two years ago, when he didn't felt the desperate need to convey all his emotions through one single effort.

Maybe his lower lip wouldn't have trembled against mine; maybe it would have been so tender; maybe he wouldn't have held back from bringing me flush against him.

Maybe it wouldn't have felt like the saddest goodbye.

The hold on my forearm and my cheek fell limply right before his mouth abandoned me, taking my breath away in the process.

He didn't allow me to take a proper look at him, casting his head down and stepping away as soon as he parted from me, but I still caught a glimpse of the teardrop running down his cheek while he turned heel.

He didn't spare me a single glance before running upstairs.

I heard his sob.

I was pretty sure he heard mine.

[okminer07]

Mice Among Beasts Pt 1

A Baldur's Gate fanfiction.

The dungeon-like space smelled awful, like death, rot, and goblins. It was impossible to see where they were going, what with the cage constantly rocking back and forth with each step the goblin took, clearly taking pleasure in jostling them around.  

A look of shock was still painted across Willow’s face, her brain struggling to keep up. How had she been so stupid?! Trying to steal food from that camp, and without any sort of plan? Had she even taken the time to scope the place out? No! She had simply seen the food and gone for it. Now, she was facing the grim reality that they themselves might become food. Did goblins eat her people? It seemed like a very real possibility, seeing what had been on- 

She jumped when a loud, high-pitched wail filled the air, the source being right next to her. Belle had been sniffling and whimpering from the moment they had been captured, but now she was screaming.   

The goblin above them groaned. He gave the cage a good shake, sending the two tiny humanoids falling from one side to the other, “Shut up!” 

Belle only cried louder. Holding her aching head, Willow stumbled over to her. She wrapped her arms tightly around her sister's frail body and pulled her into her lap. Cooing at her and petting her golden hair very slowly quieted the girl down, being content to cry into Willow’s shirt.   

The two were both trembling, but Willow tried to mask it by slowly rocking the sobbing mess in her arms. The corners of her own eyes burned, but she gritted her teeth and tried to remain composed. It wouldn’t help anyone if both of them began to crumble. Then again, could anything help them now?  

She turned her head to glare at the underside of their captor's chin, “What do you want?” she hissed.  

The two shrunk away as the cage was brought up to the goblin’s eye level. He smirked, “Entertainment.” 

He lowered the cage back down to his side, pushing open a large double door with a guttural grunt. Willow peered through the bars, vaguely able to make out the room they had entered. There were two rooms on either side of them, but the goblin walked past them and down a short set of stone steps. All sorts of crates and wooden boards peppered the room's perimeter, but what caught her eye were the two large cells across the room, one on the left, and one on the right.   

The goblin turned right, going down another short flight of stairs. Willow’s eyes widened, seeing ahead of them a small group of even more goblins. Three looked to be young ones, all of which were cackling with laughter. A guard of sorts seemed to be supervising them, a look of content amusement on her face.  

“Listen! Did you hear it squeal?” one of the young ones laughed, pointing into the cell before them.  

“Make it do it again!”  

One of the goblins bent down and when they straightened, had a large rock in their grasp. They promptly threw it into the cell. A deep yet pained whimper came from behind the bars, pitiful and animalistic. Willow tensed at the sound, goosebumps beginning to pop up along her arms. What sort of animal did they have in there? Anything larger than a rabbit would have been enough to send her running.   

The group burst into laughter, “Hand me another one!” 

Willow flinched as their captor cleared his throat. The oldest of the group turned, her face lighting up with a similar sinister smirk.  

“Hey, Crusher! Come to join the fun?” 

“Actually, I plan to add to it.”  He raised the cage and gave it another harsh shake, exciting a shriek out of Belle, “Lookie what I got ‘ere.” 

The whole group descended upon them. All the kids hurried forward, pushing and shoving one another to get to the front and peer inside the birdcage. Willow’s arms tightened around her sister as the pairs of eyes on those hideous faces slowly settled upon the two of them.  

“Woah!” exclaimed one child, “What are those?”   

The goblin next to him gave him a shove, “They’re clearly some kind of fey, idiot.” 

“What kind though?”  

“Well… uh…” the smartass peered through the bars once more, “Uh… I’m not sure. Are they pixies?”  

The eldest pushed them aside, leaning her ugly face down to scrutinize the girls, “No… no, pixies got wings, and these nibblets seem smaller. At least from what I’ve seen.” she gave the cage a small shove, causing Belle to cry out once more, her bony fingers clawing into her sister. 

“Hah! They make even funnier noises!” Willow flinched at the volume of the child’s voice, wishing her hands were free so she could cover them, “Make ‘em do it again!”  

“Oh oh! Let me see!” the smartass lept forward, his massive pudgy hands groping for the cage.  

Their captor- Crusher he seemed to be called, held them higher up, chuckling, “Now now, you’ll all get plenty of time to hear them make their noises.” he shot the two a grin before turning to the other adult, “Notice you haven’t fed that furball to the worgs yet.”  

“Nah, I’ve been having too much fun with ‘em.” she peered over her shoulder, “But if we ever run out of fresh meat-” 

Crusher held up his hand, silencing her and turning to the kids, “How would you guys like to see a real show?”   

Those greenish-yellow faces lit up, “Yeah!” 

“You wanna see a real show?” 

“Yeah!”  

“Alright then.” he smirked from the cage to the cell, “This will be fun.”  

The cage started to sway once more as Crusher pushed past the kids, approaching the cell. Willow, her sister still in her arms, began to back towards the opposite side of the cage. 

They were suddenly lifted higher, being held right against the bars. Her heart hammered against her ribs as if trying to escape itself. She didn’t want to look, didn’t want to know, but her eyes betrayed her as they peered down into the cell.  

She gasped. Through the bars, standing in the very center, was a bear. An absolutely massive brown bear.  

Belle screamed, trying to backpedal further away to no avail. The goblins burst into fits of laughter, “What? You don’t like ‘em?” The cage was spun so now their backs were right up against the cell. Willow held her sister’s head against her chest as she whimpered. 

Chancing a glance over her shoulder, Willow saw that the bear’s eyes were fixed upon the cage. When Belle let out another whimper, its ears perked up at the sound.  

“D'aww look, I think he wants to be friends” teased Crusher, receiving more laughs in response.  

A shiver ran down her spine as the bear released a low, long drawn-out growl. Oh gods. 

“You wanna go in and say hello?” 

Belle shrieked, frantically shaking her head as if it would do anything.  

“Is that a yes?”  

“No!” she screamed. 

“Well, if you say so.”  

They began to be lowered, the cage nearly being touched down to the ground before the floor suddenly began to tilt. Willow hurriedly pulled her and her sister up the growing incline and wrapped her legs around the cage bars. Her sister screamed, clawing her way up her body and desperately trying to also grab onto something as their world continued to turn.  

Her arms began to burn as they became vertical, but she didn’t dare let them loosen their grip around Belle, not even for a moment. A large clawed hand came around and pried open the cage door.

“Come on now, “ Crusher gave the cage a good shake. Willow winced, straining to keep the two of them up, “Don’t want to keep ‘em waiting do ya?” His eyes zeroed in on what was keeping them from falling. Those clawed fingers crept towards her, nails slipping beneath her legs. A mere flick of the finger, and they were falling, falling into a death trap.  

She spun around in the air, putting herself between Belle and the approaching stone floor. An airless gasp escaped her as she collided with the ground. She coughed and wheezed, wincing at the throbbing pain now blooming across her whole back. 

Belle began to shake her and tug at her shirt collar. Willow pushed her away, forcing herself up. She froze as another low growl filled her ears. Grabbing hold of her sister, she looked up and wanted to scream. The bear’s eyes were fixed upon them. Even from afar, it towered over them, a huge mass of fur that could swallow them whole.  

Whipping her head around, her eyes landed upon the cell’s bars. The space between them was big enough for them to slip through. She ran for it, dragging her sister behind her. Almost as soon as she had started towards it, the goblins took notice. All of them crouched down in front of the cell to block her path, laughing at her pitiful attempt at escape.   

She spun around, heading in the opposite direction. Heart pounding in her ears, she began scouring the stone walls for cracks, holes, anything. The ground beneath them quivered and Willow looked over to see the bear taking a step towards them, head lowered and shoulders up.  

It stalked towards them, throwing her off balance with every step. She frantically continued to search the walls, running along the perimeter of the cell. When she reached a corner, she stopped, out of breath. She turned and froze. The bear was close now, its shadow beginning to cover the two of them. They couldn’t run now, they were cornered.  

Belle began to whimper. Willow stepped in front of her and began to back away. She only made it a few steps before they were pressed against the wall. Looking up in horror, she watched as the bear's head began to encapsulate her entire vision. The air around them stunk of its rancid breath. Its eyes were piercing, the gaze as sharp as its protruding fangs. This was it, they were dead. 

Willow’s arms came up to shield her and her sobbing sister. She braced herself as the beast closed in, opening its gaping maw. It descended upon them and she snapped her eyes shut, praying it would be a quick death for the both of them.  

Nothing. Nothing happened. She didn’t feel anything. Not the feeling of teeth tearing them to shreds like she had expected. Not the feeling of being doused in drool, not anything. However, she did hear something, the snapping of the bear’s jaws. 

Willow cracked open her eyes, freezing. The bear was mere inches away, its warm breath blowing back her silvery hair. It was still staring at them. It remained motionless.  

Suddenly, its massive form began to shift as it turned away from them. It began to make a noise that sounded like chewing. Willow hurriedly checked behind her, worried that it had somehow gotten a hold of Belle before her. But no, her sister was still huddled up behind her, looking up in terrified confusion. 

The bear continued to chew, at least that’s what it sounded like. She wracked her brain for an explanation of what else it could be but came up short.  

“Aw man, where’s all the blood?” rang out the familiar voice of one of the goblin children.   

Another voice sighed, “I guess if we wanted a real show, we should have thrown in something bigger, or maybe something that would have at least put up more of a fight. Ah well.”  

Willow’s eyes widened. Did they think that they had been- she looked up, seeing that the bear’s form was completely blocking them from the view of the goblins.   

“I guess we should get you lot back to work.” 

The young goblins all began to protest, “Aw come on! Can’t we throw more rocks at it or-”  

“Do you want to keep our True Soul waiting?” growled Crusher. 

True soul? 

“N-no. N-not at-” 

“Then get to it!” he barked, and Willow felt and heard the multiple pairs of feet hurry away, “Oh, and Butch wanted to see you, something ‘bout his worg. Won’t stop whining over it.”  

“Ugh, fine. Take me to him, will yah?” 

Another rumble of footsteps and the goblin’s grumbling murmurs slowly grew distant. With the slam of a door, the room fell silent.  

Hope you enjoy! and let me know if you want to hear more!

[burification]

Fever In Bedtime Covers

Wilbur Soot x Reader

Ao3

Warnings: almost smut. but not. cheating,, toxic relationship, i think that’s it ???

no smut but minors dni pls pls pls plssssss

It’s cold. It’s late. You’re tired. You’re too upset to care. You’re livid. Despite your anger, a rational part of you admits that you should’ve gone to bed, or at least drove instead of storming out of your apartment. You don’t know where you’re going but you don’t stop. It’s not the most dangerous area, but you are still young and alone at almost one in the morning and that adds a layer of uneasiness to the air nipping at your skin.

You give up on storming off before you get lost and you seek solace on a bench at a park nearby, usually lively with families and laughter but is now so quiet. You take a moment to collect yourself, let your breath steady, attempting to find some semblance of peace. You breathe. You want to go home, you want everything to be how it was before. You don’t want to be alone in this park.

The eeriness and uncertainty of the dark decides for you that you should get back home.

You feel stupid. You feel immature. You plan how you will make it up to him, for making accusations and then storming out. You think until you’re in your building and climbing the stairs before you collide into another body. A familiar face- you recognize him as someone from your building. He’s distracted by something on his phone and you don’t know if you should make anything out of this interaction before your thoughts are interrupted by a “Sorry, ‘m just trying to get up to my apartment.”

You knew you recognized him but had never spoken to him. You’ve heard someone with an accent playfully yelling from time to time, you just wouldn’t have guessed to associate those joking vulgarities with the seemingly reserved and warm looking boy in front of you. “I’m Wil, I’ve seen you around but I don’t think we’ve met properly.” You introduce yourself to him, in hopes that a nice chat will ease your anxieties of going back home.

Before you can start any meaningful conversation, he excuses himself to take a phone call and you’re left with a mix of curiosity and relief from the brief interaction.

You go back to the flight of stairs up to your apartment until you’re in front of your door. You’re back in your thoughts again, thinking of how you could possibly make this up to your partner. Again, your thoughts are interrupted but this time by the sound of keys being shoved into a lock to your left. It’s Wil again.

“We just keep running into each other,” you joke. He laughs half heartedly.

“What’re you doing out this late anyway?”

You’re not sure how to respond. You settle on a vague response, not wanting to burden him with your personal troubles. You don’t mention your insecurity and self doubt, unsure if you overreacted or if there’s a genuine cause for concern in your relationship. Despite the turmoil, you simply say, “I just needed some air.”

“Very well. Goodnight then.” And he disappears into his apartment. You feel a yearning to talk to him more. There is something about him that exudes warmth and comfort and in this moment of vulnerability, you want to confide in him.

You retreat into your own apartment, trying to ignore the emotional turbulence and focus on your partner. It’s dark, no sign of anyone. You wonder if he had the same idea as you after the fight- perhaps he decided to clear his head as well, hopefully he was smart enough to take the car. A glimmer of hope wonders if he felt bad and went to go look for you. You feel around the wall to find the light switch while you grab your phone to call and let him know you’re home safe. As light fills the room, your gaze shifts down at your phone, you notice a pair of shoes by the door that you don’t quite recognize. They’re definitely not your partner’s and they’re a bit too expensive to be yours. The pit of anxiety in your stomach weighs heavy like a rock and molds into disappointment.

The hallway seems to go on forever, your heart races with trepidation as you quietly make your way to the bedroom. Hoping against hope that your fears are unfounded, you pray that you’re worrying over nothing. You would rather be insecure and crazy for the rest of your life than any of the other thoughts running through your head be true. The doorknob is cold, the door is cracked already and all that’s left for you to do is push. You do. It’s dark, it’s silent.

There’s a blue hue filling the room and with that small illumination, you make out a small figure in the arms of your lover. There’s no clothes strewn across the room, there’s no sick smell of sweat. It resembles the room you left behind, with the sole difference being the presence of the woman entwined with your partner.

You can’t bring yourself to cry out. You can’t bring yourself to be angry. It’s late. You’re tired. The hallway shrinks in size as you make your way to the front door again. You can’t storm off. You’re not livid, you’re just defeated. You’re standing in the hallway of your apartment complex, unaware of where to go or who to call. It’s too late to burden your family and you left all your friends to focus on the man lying in your bed with another woman.

Your knuckles against wood catches your brain up to your body. “We just keep running into each other don’t we?” Wil says in a playful tone. You wonder how he has so much energy this late at night. “I’m tired,” is all you manage to get out. “Are you locked out?” He asks, because he didn’t see you walk in and he didn’t see you walk out with half of your heart still in that apartment.

He takes your lack of an answer as acceptance, he extends an invitation and welcomes you in. His apartment is warm, not only physically but it’s also comforting, much like his presence. There’s a sense of home that you didn’t know could exist in this building, it’s a nice contrast from the cold and dark of your apartment.

The lights are on and there’s light music coming from another room. Nothing too loud, nothing you could hear from your apartment, it’s gentle.

He breaks the silence, “Is everything alright? It’s pretty late and you seem upset. Did something happen to you?” And he’s right. It is late. And you don’t know this man, who was stumbling up the steps when you met him. And you’re alone in his apartment. You wonder if he lives by himself or if anyone else is here.

“Do you afford this place on your own?” you try to get some information out of him. It’s not the nicest place but you could barely afford your apartment with your partner's income together.

“I do, yes.”

You wonder how he’s able to. It’s decorated nicely, guitar stands in the corner of the living area next to the gaming consoles across from the nice looking sectional couch. It’s nothing too extravagant but it’s comfortable.

He motions you to sit down and make yourself comfortable while he offers you a glass of water. He behaves as if he’s ready to start his morning.

“What’re you doing up this late?” It's your turn to ask questions now.

“Could you just confirm that everything is okay? Do I need to call anyone?” He seems genuinely worried. You think about how you’d react if a stranger just knocked on your door at three in the morning without saying much.

“I’m okay.” You assure. Wil visibly relaxes.

“I’m just up so I can work.” You assume he’s trying to get stuff done before a deadline, “Where’re you working?” “I do online stuff. Some of the people I make things with live across the country. I try to work with their time. I don’t mind it too much though, I prefer being up in the later hours.” You’re too tired to care to pry so you just accept his answer.

“May I ask why you knocked on my door?”

You don’t want to relive it, your heart still aches for the pieces of it that you left by the door. You tell him. You try not to look at him while you do because every word that comes out of your mouth, his eyes soften. Every word of consolation he says is dripping with a care and hospitality that you’ve grown so unfamiliar to. You want to cry because this stranger is being so kind to you and you want more, you feel pathetic. You want to tell him all your troubles so he can lick your wounds. And he does. In a way a stranger can without overstepping, he does. He listens.

You feel bad for burdening him. He doesn’t seem to mind, though. He listens like he is truly interested in you and your stories. It’s almost three in the morning now and you wonder if this guy sleeps at all. You’re not tired anymore. Your body is, but your brain is wide awake. Maybe you’re trying to stay awake to be alert or to take in this moment. Your glass is empty. You know you should leave but you don’t know if you could bring yourself to go home. Almost as if he could read your mind, he grabs your glass and takes it over to the kitchen. You prepare to leave and to be alone again. You think of ways to thank him but instead, he’s sat back down with a full cup of water. Almost as a way to say ‘Stay.’ You accept and hope he can see the gratitude in your eyes.

You two talk like old friends catching up with each other. You exchange stories and Wil’s soft and sympathetic eyes have turned to squinty ones accompanied with laugh lines. His personality is just as warm as his eyes are and you wonder if the room is being lit up by the lights or if it’s just that smile he bares. You can’t help but feel a bit guilty taking in his appearance when he listened to you so intently. Your glass is empty again and you can barely keep your head up. You want to stay, you want to be safe here and let him put you back together. You want him to make you whole again. “Here,” he gets up to grab you a blanket and a remote to turn on the tv, “Would you like to watch anything?” You feel like you’ve surely overstayed your welcome, “I should go.” “You don’t have to go back. Stay,” he says it out loud this time and like a well trained dog, you listen.

“Is this okay?” He sits close. “Mhm,” you mumble. He throws the blanket across both your laps. “What do you wanna watch?” He nudges the remote towards you but you just bury your face in his shoulder. “You choose,” you don’t care, you just want to be close, “please hold me.” He obeys. He rests an arm around your shoulder, he’s careful about it but you move yourself closer to him. You crave him, his warmth and his touch. You want to be whole again. He pulls you closer and you hold him harder, you hold him like he will disappear if you let go.

“Thank you for being so kind to me Wil,” you say it just above a whisper, “thank you.” He holds your head against his shoulder. He doesn’t say or do anything other than that small action but you take it and savor it. “Why are you being so kind to me, Wil?” He’s quiet for a second, “I don’t know,” you look at him but he’s not looking at you. He’s looking forward to the tv show he put on before, “you seem like you need someone right now. I want to be here for you.” He’s looking down at you now, you try not to let your eyes water but his expression is honest and it sends you over the edge.

He pulls you onto his lap until your legs are caging him and then his hands are on the back of your head. He pulls you close until the top of your head is met by his lips. He holds you close, he holds you like you are made of porcelain, as if you will shatter into a million pieces if he lets you go.

You know you shouldn’t, god knows how much of a hypocrite you’d be if you did, but you do it anyway. You need this, even if it’s just for tonight. You bring yourself up from your place on his chest to cup his face, you kiss him. You don’t expect him to, but he kisses you back. It’s fluid, it’s natural. Your hands are laced in his hair and his hands have gone from rubbing your back to holding your hips. You’re filled with another spurt of energy, a carnal desire. You’re so drunk on his lips that you cast aside any need for oxygen. His hand goes from your hip to your cheek and he pulls away. “Are you sure about this?” He’s searching your face for any trace of doubt. “Please, Wil,” you need this. You would get down on your knees to prove to him if you needed to.

You kiss him again, it’s short this time as you make your way down to his jaw, his neck, and to the small bit of collarbone exposed from his collared shirt. You move with the rise and fall of his chest as you undo his buttons. The kisses get hungrier with desperation with every button undone until you’re at his jeans. You leave small kisses at his hips before you look up at him one more time for an okay to go ahead. He looks at you at with the same sympathetic look he gave you before.

“I don’t think this is what you need right now, my darling.” You know he’s right, every part of your being wants to fight against it and just have this but you know he’s right.

“I’m sorry,” you take back your place next to him on the couch, “you’ve been nothing but kind to me tonight I don’t mean to use you. I’m so sorry.” Any lingering feeling of confidence and bliss has gone and replaced itself with regret. You want to crawl away and sulk in your deplorable sorrows like a bad dog.

A hand on your knee breaks you from your trance. You don’t move, you hope that maybe if you’re still enough you’ll disappear from this situation.

“Look at me please.”

To no avail you’re still here. Your head feels like boulders upon your shoulders as you bring yourself to look at him. You don’t expect what you see. There’s no trace of pity or discomfort anywhere on his face. Instead, you see the eyes filled with warmth and comfort you were met with before any of this happened which makes it feel all the more heart wrenching.

“I want this,” he keeps his hand on your knee and offers a reassuring squeeze, “just under different circumstances.” You can’t bring yourself to say anything so you just nod.

“Let me take you out tomorrow? Maybe we can try this again.”

“I could settle for that.” You wonder how a person’s company could be so serene.

“You can stay here tonight, okay? I’ll take the couch.”

“Can we both stay here please?”

He hums a yes and excuses himself to his room to wash up and grab some pillows and blankets.

When he comes back his face looks fresh and his hands are full with two pillows, a thick blanket and stuffed whale.

“Whalebur.” Is all he says, in full seriousness. “You can sleep with him tonight.”

He makes the couch into a makeshift bed and turns off the lights, the only thing granting you guys vision is the tv screen that he leaves on. He pulls you into his side in a half sit half laying down position, you lean your head against his shoulder with one arm around his and one arm holding onto his stuffed whale. There’s some album review youtube video playing on the screen that he watches intently and if you’re being honest, you don’t know if it’s his fingers tracing circles on your skin or the video that’s causing you to doze off.

At some point in the video, you fall asleep. You’re awoken shortly after to a light snore above you, where Wil decided to rest his head against yours. His arm is around your waist now and you’re closer to him than you were before. It’s cozy. You want to stay here, in this moment. You want to get used to this warmth, this comfort. You want to get used to the closeness and the tenderness he offers.

You hold the plush, blue whale to yourself tighter and drink in every second of the setting. You want to get used to this. Your head is filled with thoughts of waking up and falling asleep next to someone so unconditionally sweet. You let these ideas saturate your brain and hope they bleed into your dreams before you drift off into sleep for a final time.

[tgmsunmontue]

Come on baby light my fire… 1/2

Hangster. 3k. Explicit. Apartment fire alarm at 1am featuring Jake in his underwear and Bradley with kittens.

                His eyes open immediately, the sound of alarms drilled into him that he wakes instantly, body already rolling out of bed before he’s even consciously thought to do so.

                Holy shit.

                Fire.

                He moves on auto pilot, Hilary’s instructions playing in his head, grab the carrier, put the kittens inside. They’re likely to hide under the couch from the loud sounds. He grabs the apartment keys, pulls on the robe hanging on the back of Hilary’s door and shoves the keys into the pocket; remembering her strict instructions to not forget keys because otherwise he’d be locked out and severely fucked.

                Keys. Check. Now onto the kittens.

                Of course he can’t see them anywhere.

                Fuck.

                It’s been over a minute already, and even if it’s just a false alarm all his senses are blaring at him to get out get out get out.

                She had said to put his own safety first but he has to at least try to coax the kittens out. He grabs the treat bag and rustles it, staring intently at the dark space under the sofa. Sees one little pink nose pop out and he knows if he gets one out then the other will follow. Sure enough one scampers over to him, followed immediately by the other and he scoops them both up, one in each hand, popping them into the carrier and quickly zipping it shut, but not before dropping in a treat each and pocketing the rest of the bag.

                There’s immediately high-pitched meows of indignation but he ignores them, double checks the keys in the robe pocket, grabs his phone and wallet and then gaps it for the stairs. He takes the steps down quickly, seven flights easy work considering the fitness level he has to maintain as a fighter pilot and he steps outside, follows the flow of people to what he assumes is the building assembly point. Everyone looks pretty disgruntled to be awake, and he’s not the only one with a pet-carrier, and there are still people coming out of the eight-floor building.

                He’s grateful it’s not fucking winter, his bare feet bad enough, but at least he’s wearing sleep pants and tank, although he probably could have done without grabbing the thin satin bathrobe off the back of Hilary’s door. It’s bright pink, a fact he hadn’t computed in his rushed and panicked state, nor the fact that it’s far too tight across his shoulders and on his arms.  He is however not the worst off, there’s a guy in nothing but his underwear, although if a guy is going to stand around in his underwear Bradley’s glad that they look like that. Jesus he’s got a body on him. Pretty like in a magazine.

                Of course, because his life is shit, the guy catches him looking (staring), quirks an eyebrow and Bradley flushes but doesn’t look away. Then he mentally throws his shoulders back, picks up the carrier and walks over.

                “You want the tank or the robe?”

                “Not going to offer me your pants?”

                “I’m not wearing anything underneath.”

                “I don’t mind.”

                “I think other people might.”

                “Shame. I’m actually okay. I run hot.”

                “I bet you do.”

                He can’t believe he’s standing in the street, middle of the night, two kittens in a carrier at his feet, hitting-on and being hit-on by one of the hottest guys he’s ever seen.

                “Name’s Jake.”

                “Bradley. Nice to meet you Jake.”

                “Likewise. So, you had to find these two before making your own escape huh?”

                “Well, Oreo and Cracker weren’t quite up to the job of rescuing me. They’re easily bribed though…”

                “Cute…” Jake says, but he’s looking at Bradley rather than the kittens and he flushes, can’t believe this guy is being so blatantly interested in him and then he realizes he’s just a guy right now. Albeit a guy wearing a pink satin bathrobe with two kittens in a carrier but yeah, okay, that probably makes some people assume things, and they’d probably be wrong, but he’s not going to correct Jake. He’s not in uniform, people aren’t going to assume he’s straight. Jake might be assuming he’s gay, but Bradley is an out and proud bisexual, even if he has to come out repeatedly every time someone conveniently forgets.

                “Lucky you don’t need cute animals to make you look attractive…” Bradley offers.

                “Trust me honey, neither do you…”

                Firetrucks arrive then and they shuffle off to the side, watch along with the hundred or so other people as they enter the building. There aren’t any flames, so he’s hopeful that it is indeed a false alarm and he’ll soon be reunited with the bed. Although he doesn’t mind the company he’s made, Jake’s back and ass looking pretty fucking spectacular as he crouches down to wiggle his fingers at the kittens.

                “All clear! Okay everyone, you can go back in… All clear! Just a false alarm…”

                There’s a general grumbling but Bradley’s too used to training for fires with the use of multiple alarms to ever begrudge having to practice something like this as a civilian in his downtime. It feels so quietly mundane for people to not simply be grateful that it is a false alarm, that they aren’t all suddenly homeless and watching the building turn to ashes. He shakes his head, pulls the keys from the robe pocket and Jake is staring at him, eyes wide like he’s seen a ghost.

                “What?”

                “Fuck. Fuck.”

                “What?” Bradley repeats, becoming more concerned at the increasing agitation on Jake’s face.

                “I don’t have a key.”

                “You didn’t think about getting back in?”

                “No!” Jake snaps and then winces at his own tone. “Sorry. Fire drills are drilled into me pretty hard, you drop everything and get the fuck out.”

                “Yeah, that’s fair. I probably would have been the same if I hadn’t had to stop and coerce these guys out…” he says, trying to make Jake feel like less of an idiot. He scratches his jaw. “Look, you want to, uh, come back and crash at my place?”

                He doesn’t want to mention it’s not actually his place. That’s more likely to make Jake refuse. And he means it as a genuine offer, it’s the middle of the night, hours away from likely finding someone to help him get into his own apartment.

                “No ulterior motives?”

                “No. You can just crash on the sofa.”

                “And if I want there to be ulterior motives?”

                Bradley catches his eye and the look is serious now, intense.

                “Yeah… that could, that could be arranged. Sure.”

                “Lead the way.”

…            …            …

                He pushes open the door to the apartment and feels awkward, the easy banter from before gone in the mundane walk up the stairs, not willing to wait in the queue for the elevator. He’d felt Jake behind him the entire way, and now they’re standing there just looking at each other, the cat carrier between them a

                “I can just sleep on the sofa,” Jake offers, his eyes soft and it unfreezes something in him, his head immediately shaking.

                “No, it’s fine…”

                “I don’t usually do this…”

                “Me either. I have… nothing.”

                “Shit. Okay, well, we’ll work with what we’ve got. Hands and spit and get a little messy with that I guess… I’m a prepared boy scout in my apartment though. Just for the record.”

                “Not prepared enough to not be locked out…” Bradley replies, and he relaxes a little more, the light teasing making him feel that level of playful flirty-ness they’d had earlier.

                “Yeah yeah. Come on, let your little prisoners out…”

                Of course Orea and Cracker want to leave the carrier just as much as they wanted to go into it, so he carefully lays it on the side, leaving the zippered top open to the room. Soon enough they’re scrambling out and making beelines for the food, water and litter box, sniffing around like it’s an entirely new environment.

                “You know, you’re considerably over dressed here…”

                “You’re welcome to do something about that.”

                “Mmm…”

                Then Jake’s kissing him, lips soft as he pushes the robe off his shoulders and it falls to the ground with a thunk, his wallet and phone reminding him of their presence. He pulls back, quickly grabs them and sets them on the little table by the door and goes back to Jake who’s watching him with amusement before he steps back into Bradley’s space, a hand going to his waist, one finger slipping under the band and he lets his own hands rest on Jake, so much skin already uncovered.

                “You’re right, you do run hot…”

                “Uh huh… means I can keep you warm if you get cold.”

                “Don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” Bradley murmurs, because his body is heating up with every brush of Jake’s fingers, and he lets him pull his tank over his head. Hears the faint very nice murmured under Jake’s breath and feels a lick of arousal go through him that Jake likes what he sees. Then his pants are being pushed down, fingers wrapping around his cock and giving it a quick stroke and he pushes into it.

                “You weren’t lying, you really didn’t have anything underneath…”

                “Why would I lie?”

                “Because you liked the view?”

                “I did like the view,” Bradley says. “Still do.”

                “Not bad from where I’m standin’ either… This place have a shower?”

                “Yeah, why?”

                “Hmm. Just thinking… Two birds, one stone. Maybe three birds. We use the shower, then cleanup is easy, and there’s usually a handy variety of body washes we could use as lube…”

                “They’re not proper lube…”

                “If you’re trying to tell me you’ve never jerked off in a shower using body wash to glide the way I’ll know you’re a big fat liar.”

                Bradley nods, shrugs, concedes the point, starts moving them to the bathroom, because it’s an apartment, it’s not any further than the bedroom. He’s going to have to buy Hilary the biggest fucking gift basket. He reaches and turns the water on, grabs a couple more towels and then wraps his arm around Jake’s waist, runs his hand over the front of his underwear, feels the firm erection twitch against his hand. Kisses him again then hooks fingers in the elastic and carefully pulls his underwear down and goes to his knees at the same time.

                “Jesus Christ you’re a sight…”

                “Good one I hope…”

                “Fuck yes…”

                He licks up the length of Jake’s cock, nuzzles and licks at his balls, doesn’t comment on the very closely cropped hair. Then he licks his lips, gathers saliva, and wets his mouth, then in one smooth move sucks Jake down, reminding himself to breathe through his nose. It’s been a while since he’s done this, but he has always considered himself decently proficient. He knows how to not choke and gag at least.

                “Fuck.”

                He digs his fingers into the flesh of Jake’s thighs, he’s not going to be able to do this long, doesn’t intend to, only until the shower is warmed up, his knees are not a fan of the hard tiles. He bobs his head, sucks and moves his tongue against the head in twirling pressure before going back down. Jake’s running fingers through his hair, gentle, like he’s patting him and it’s nice and he hums in appreciation, which apparently feels good judging from the groan Jake makes.

                He stands, keeps his hands on Jake’s body, grabs at warm flesh and kisses a path up his body then they’re both stepping under the spray, kissing, hands moving on each other now. Bradley likes this look on him, hair darker when wet, water running down his body, eyes dark and intent on Bradley and he grins and then lets Jake press against him, turns him to face the wall so he's tucked behind him, hand reaching around to stroke his cock where it’s hard between his legs.

                “Thighs together, nice and tight… going to slide my dick between them.”

                Oh yeah, he can get into that.

                He sucks in a deep breath, braces an arm against the cold tile of the shower wall, glad that the shower is big enough for this. Fingers slick with something that smells like tropical flowers run between his ass cheeks and thighs and he groans, pushes back; feels the press of Jake’s body against him as his hard cock slides over Bradley’s ass. He moans, can’t remember the last time he had a shower with someone. Probably his last girlfriend, before she decided that no boyfriend was better than a boyfriend that was never there.

                He’d forgotten how good it felt, to have someone’s hands on him, accompanied with warm water, the soapy slide. Yeah, it definitely helps ease the way, Jake’s fingers soaping up the skin between his thighs and as Jake presses his cock between them in one smooth push he lets out another long slow hum of appreciation.

                “Fuck yes…”

                “Mmm. Yeah. You feel good…”

                Jake’s rolling his hips in a smooth grind, rhythmic as he runs his hands over Bradley’s back and sides, his hand coming round to brush too-soft like a tease on Bradley’s cock. It’s not fast enough or hard enough, but the pace increases in slow increments, and he can feel the tension in Jake growing like his own. Building up and closer and closer. The water is starting to feel cooler against his skin, but there’s still plenty of steam so he figures his skin is just getting hotter, his cock harder, skin tighter. Thighs trembling with the effort of keeping them tightly clenched together. Jake’s fingers are tight on his hips, he’s going to have bruises and he groans at the thought.

                Jake’s body starts to move faster against him, and he imagines what it’d feel like to get fucked like this, he’d like to find out, maybe in the morning he can go and find supplies while they figure out Jake’s whole key thing… His vision goes black and he realizes he’s closed his eyes at the feel of Jake’s hand closing around his cock, grasp firm and moving with one objective and Bradley lets himself surge toward it.

                “More. Come on Jake, please, need more… come on.”

                “Yeah yeah…”

                There’s a couple more minutes, nothing but the sound of slick wet flesh and the air in their lungs coming in pants, adding to the sticky heat of the shower. He places his hand over Jake’s, takes over so Jake can chase his own pleasure and it doesn’t take him long, the sound and feel of Jake against him, making his orgasm hit fast and he groans, leg muscles twitching and fuck he hopes Jake is close, because he’s going to go boneless any second. He apparently really fucking needed that.

                “Oh shit…”

                He feels Jake shaking against him, feels his come against his balls and on his thighs before it’s rinsed away by the water and he slowly lets his leg muscles relax as Jake pulls away, although his hands are all over him, as is his mouth. They both seem to come down and it’s soft and slow, hands washing gently and they’re both a little giggly as they also attempt at towel drying each other. Bradley is feeling really fucking tired, the time of night suddenly slamming into him double-time with the assist of the orgasm.

                “Fuck… that was great. Sleep now though right? It’s what? Two? Three?”

                “Yeah. Somewhere between there. Close enough. Sleep sounds good. Come on, you look like you’ll make an excellent cuddler.”

                “No mention of taking the sofa now huh?”

                “Oh no, I’m going to keep you warm all night…”

“Good, I look forward to it. You want to borrow anything, my bags just over there…”

                “I’m good for now thanks. Sleep.”

                “Yeah, okay. Sleep.”

PART TWO (Featuring six potential endings)

------------- THE POSSIBLE ENDINGS -----------

In all following scenarios Jake has left in the morning prior to Bradley waking wearing borrowed clothes of Bradley’s (and because he's an idiot and should have just waited for Bradley to wake up, but Jake's going to go and try catch Javy as he heads to the gym...).

Jake leaves in the morning but texts himself from Bradley’s phone so he already has a number. No angst, they’re boyfriends now.

Jake finds Bradley’s phone dead so leaves a written message. Kittens rip it up and Bradley never finds it. They both assume the worst. Bad sad pining idiots. (Or this but then followed by either C or D).

Upon not hearing from Bradley Jake returns to apartment, finds Hilary, assumes further worst, but then Hilary is like HELL NO and gives him Bradley’s number. They realize message leaving was thwarted by Oreo and Cracker, minimal angst, they’re boyfriends now.

Jake assumes it’s a one-night thing. Never hears from Bradley. Little heartbroken. Then he’s working out at the gym and wearing the old tshirt he borrowed from Bradley and then this guy is asking him where he got the tshirt… It’s Mav who is like “I recognise Goose’s old clothes that Bradley has been so attached to, why TF is this stranger wearing it?” So Mav takes Jake home and is all like “Bradley! I have something for you!”

[itsthestutterforme]

Good Company 1/2 (Rafe Cameron x black!reader)

Summary: You and Rafe were together since you were in high school. But then Rafe fell into his addiction and he pushed you away from him so you could be safe. But for how long?

Prompt credit @literary-lesbo : “I did care. I used to care.”

Notes: GIF is not mine, all mistakes are my own, dark themes (addiction, murder, suggestive themes), soft!reader, soft!Rafe, a mix of fluff and angst

**

Things between you and Rafe were painful. Complicated at best.

You haven’t spoke to him since he ghosted you, yet you’ve been seeing him everywhere lately. But it wasn’t always like that.

For a while, it was like he disappeared off the island. Until a few months ago when reappeared with a different style and a buzzcut, walking next to what you assumed was his partner in crime.

You’ve seen him at all your usual spots; the grocery store, your local gym, your favorite restaurant. You were starting to think that it was on purpose.

But then again, it is a small town so maybe you were reading too much into it.

You, Sarah, John B, JJ, Kiara, Pope and John’s dad were headed to Barbados to find El Dorado. You and John B approach the plane where Rafe and Sarah were arguing.

“Whatever, Rafe.” Sarah retorts. Rafe grabbed Sarah’s arm and pulled her close.

“That didn’t answer my question,” “Okay! Yes, I’ll make sure he’s safe in Barbados. Jesus, Rafe.”

Sarah rips her arm away from him, stumbling back a bit and John B caught her.

You brushed past him and stepped onto the stairs when you heard Rafe calling after you.

You turned around on the first step of the plane and Rafe approached you, looking at you slightly from the height advantage .

“Can you make sure he gets home safe?” He asks, his desperate gaze meeting yours. “Please,” he adds when you hesitate.

The engine roared to life, shaking the ground beneath your feet but Rafe’s gaze remained on you.

“Okay, I’ll do it.” You agreed and he nods softly. “What’s the point of asking me if you were just going to ask her?” Sarah asks.

“Because I changed my mind. And because I trust her.”

“Get out the way man,” John B says, pushing him to the side to walk up the steps to the plane but Rafe stops him.

“And you. If I hear anything happened to him. I mean anything. I will come after you.” Rafe threatens, shoving John B back a few steps.

“Not the best thing to say to a Pogue, Rafe. Who knows? Maybe the emergency hatch will open and Ward ‘accidentally’ slip out.”

“You son of a bitch!” Rafe grabs John B’s shirt and winds his arm back to hit him.

“Rafe, stop!” Sarah pleads. “Shut the fuck up, Sarah!” He was starting to spiral.

His yells caught Pope and JJ’s attention. You held a hand up to stop them when they try to leave the plane.

Sarah tries to pull Rafe’s arm back so he doesn’t hit John B and he shoves her to the ground.

You stepped off the stairs and approached Rafe and John B spewing threats at each other. “Rafe, you asked me to take care of Ward. Me, not him.”

You notice Rafe’s grip loosen the longer you spoke. “I will get him where needs to go. Just trust me.” You add, gently touching his arm.

Rafe lets John B go and you motion for him to get on the plane. Rafe smooths a hand over his head and started to pace. “Do you trust me?” You asked.

“I trust you,” he answers softly. “Then leave. Go back to whatever is you were doing and don’t stress over things you can’t control.”

“Okay,” he repeats to himself. You waited for him to turn and walk to his car before getting on the plane.

“What the fuck was that?” JJ asks when the flight assistant closes the door of the plane.

“It was just Rafe being Rafe,” John B explains. “But what I don’t get is why he trusts you?” He adds, eyeing you suspiciously.

“She always could calm him down when he got bad,” Sarah says, rubbing her elbow. “What the hell does that mean?” JJ asks.

“From the looks of it, he hasn’t gotten any better. Has he?” Sarah’s silence told you everything you needed to know.

“Are you okay?” You asked, sitting down next to her. “Yeah, it’s just a sprain. I think.” She says with a pained smile.

“You’re really not going to answer our questions?” JJ prods.

“Okay, fine. We had a history. We used to date.” You answer coolly.

“So you’re a Kook then?” JJ asks, adjusting in his seat. “JJ,” Kiara scolds.

“What? When you date a Kook, you become a Kook like them. They never want you to be you. They’ll want to change you to become more like them.” JJ explains.

“I’m not going to defend myself to you. I used to date Rafe and now I don’t. It’s that simple,” you said with a sigh.

Sarah knew a lot about the life you’ve had before you met Rafe. The only one who knew more was Ward. It wasn’t that simple at all.

Before any of them could respond, you stood from your chair and grabbed a bottle of tequila.

“Y/N,” Sarah calls after you as you head toward the back of the plane. “Great job, JJ.” Kiara says sarcastically.

**

You wiped your sweaty palms on your jean shorts, letting out a shaky breath. Your mind drifted to the haunting sight of Ward bleeding out below you.

Everything happened so fast. John Sr. fought one of the armed men for the gun and a shot rung out.

You were pushed out of the way, your shoulder skimming the rough bark of the palm tree on the way down.

The wind was knocked out of you when your body hit the ground. Your vision blurred a moment as you attempted to sit up on the ground.

Your eyes widened when your things came to focus. John B was yelling for his dad over the massive ledge the group was forced into by the armed men.

Kiara was holding a crying Sarah and you followed her gaze to Ward with a bullet in his chest.

He let out a pained wheeze, blood spluttering out of his mouth. He reached for you and your limped over to him, taking into his hand into yours.

Tears threatened to leave your eyes when you saw the torturous expression on his face.

He was in a lot of pain and there was nothing you could do about it besides hold his hand.

“I’m so sorry, Ward.” You whimper. He attempts to speak but it came out as a grunt. He squeezed your hand for dear life.

“Y-you tell Rafe that I’m proud of him. M’proud of you too.” His shaky voice rattled in your head since the JJ and Pope dragged you back into the plane after you begged them to help bury Ward.

A seagull’s call brought you out of your thoughts. You wiped away some stray tears trailing down your cheeks.

You were parked in front of the Tannyhill house but haven’t had the courage of getting out of the car yet. But delaying telling Rafe isn’t helping anyone.

You slid out of the car and locked the doors, rubbing your arms anxiously as you neared the front door. You rapped on the door and took a few steps back.

Barry opens the door with a gun in his free hand. You’re not phased at all by the sight.

“Is Rafe here?” “Sure is, baby. What, you his girlfriend or something?”

You cleared your throat when his mocha colored eyes raked your form. “I’m.. just a friend,” you added softly.

“Come on in,” he opens the door wider and clicked the safety on before sliding the gun under his belt.

You followed Barry into the living room where Rafe had papers scattered on the table, separating his attention between looking at a paper and typing something in his computer.

“Who is it, Barry?” Rafe questions, his lips parting when he looked up from his computer to see you.

“Yeah, I had a similar reaction when I first saw her. You’re a dumbass for letting her go, Country Club.”

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” He looks back to the computer to key something in.

Your silence alarmed him; he watched as you continued to rub the sides of your arms.

“We need to talk,” You finally spoke and Rafe looked at you quizzically. He slowly shut his computer and stands from his chair.

“That doesn’t sound too good,” Barry retorts. “I’ll call you later to talk about the investments.”

“Alright man. Nice to meet you, Y/N.” You gave him a small smile when he looked to you before leaving.

Glancing at Rafe, who was leaning against the dining room table with his arms crossed and his eyes locked in on you.

“What happened?” He asks, breaking the silence. His heart spiked when you let out a shaky breath.

“We landed in the field down the way from Ward’s property. And there were armed men waiting for us when we got there. I don’t know how but they were able to trace your family’s funds to that property.”

“Fucking Singh. I’m going to kill him.”

“There were two men and they pinned us on a ledge. It took all of us to overpower one of them and John Sr. tried to take the gun away from the other one but a shot got off. Ward pushed me out of the way and t-the bullet hit his chest,” you continued with tears blurring in your eyes.

“No. No, I don’t believe you.”

“I held his hand until his last breath and I buried him. He���s gone, Rafe. S-so is Rose. Wheezie was the only one left alive.” You said, unable to keep yourself together at the last part.

“Where is she now?” “I called Rose’s sister. Turns out she was on vacation in Barbados.”

“I trusted you,” he says, baring his teeth making you grimace.

“He wanted me to tell you that he was proud of you. Of us.” You uttered, taking a step to console him but he stands from his spot.

“Get out,” “Rafe, I don’t think-“ “GET. OUT.” You jumped at his outburst and rushing out of the room.

“FUCK!” He yells followed by glass shattering and a loud thud. You swung the door open to run back to your car when the house fell silent.

Stilling holding the door in your hand, you looked over your shoulder when you heard faint sobs.

Against your own judgements, you walked back into the house. “Rafe?”

You took cautious steps down the hall until you reached the dining room where you previously stood.

Rafe sat on the couch with his face in his hands, his chest heaving as he cried. You repeat his name but he doesn’t acknowledge you.

You slowly approached him until you were standing directly in front of him.

“He had to be dying for him to say he was proud of me. I’ve waited my whole life for him to say that and he never did.” He pointed, pulling away from his hands to stare up at you.

“Hell he told you he was proud of you more than he told me.” “I never meant for any of this to happen, Rafe.”

“I know. And it wasn’t fair for me to blame you when it was out of your control. I’m sorry.” He apologized, throwing you completely off guard.

He’s never apologized to you before. “I don’t know why I turned around. I..” he pressed his face into your stomach, letting out a deep sigh.

Your hand naturally rested on the back of his neck, caressing the skin where his hairline starts.

“I guess it’s because I know what it’s like to lose someone and to go through the pain alone. And I don’t want that to happen to you.” You explained softly.

He lifts his head up so his chin was against your sternum. A breath hitched in your throat from how close your faces were.

“Y/N, I know I fucked up when I-“ “I’m not here to reconcile. I don’t need you to explain anything to me, Rafe. I found closure on my own and anything you say will just confuse me.”

You turned away to leave but he caught your wrists, holding them gently. As he stood, he pressed your hands against his chest.

“Just please hear me out,” he pleads, waiting for you to nod before continuing.

“I was addicted to coke and I was an alcoholic. A dangerous mix and I didn’t want you caught up in that. I knew you would fight to stick around because you didn’t me to feel like you abandoned me. But I had to change for myself and I needed to do that alone.”

You took in the weight of his words silence. You could feel his heart pattering under your hands.

This doesn’t mean we’re on good terms,” “That’s fair but you deserved to know.”

He looks so drained, and a part of you felt guilty for possibly being the reason why. A shimmer around his neck caught your eye.

You had first noticed it at the airstrip but didn’t think it was the right time to ask.

You pulled the gold chain from under his dress shirt. To your surprise, it was the necklace you got him for Valentine’s Day. A small plate with your first initial engraved into it.

“You still wear it?” You asked in a hushed tone. “Of course I still wear it,” “I.. I didn’t think you cared,” “I did care. I used to care.. I do care.”

“I’d like to stay with for a little while, if that’s okay.” You said after a long pause.

His body relaxed a bit from your words. You took his hand and led him to sit down next to you.

You laid on your back and opened your arms for him. He hesitated a moment before sliding in between your legs and eased his head on your chest.

He hums softly when you traced patterns on his back. His tears stained the crop top you were wearing. The sound of his sniffles became more prominent in the room.

You remained quiet for a long while, wanting to give him the space to be vulnerable without being judged. He slides a hand under your back to pull you closer to him.

If that was even possible.

“I’m here, Rafe,”

[star-going-supernova]

Idea: Vanessa and Gregory find Cassie as she makes it out of the pizzaplex, barely able to walk due to exhaustion.

Tumblr generated prompt number 25! We’re down to the last few now! So for this one, the elevator didn’t fall, because if it did, I think exhaustion would’ve been the least of Cassie’s problems, lol. Anyway. Best friends, best friends, best friends!!!

Atlas

Gregory tore into the pizzaplex, ignoring Vanessa’s calls for him to wait. He’d made this place bow to his whims once, he could do it again, and all he cared about was his friend, lost somewhere in the darkness. Nothing would stand in his way.

The last thing Cassie had been able to say before her walkie-talkie fizzled out, batteries dead, was that the elevator had taken her to a hallway she didn’t recognize. So she at least wasn’t in the bowels of the building, where evil things lingered even after being laid to rest. 

With only a flashlight and his memory to guide him, Gregory scrambled over debris and through wreckage, focused only on making his way closer to Cassie. 

Guilt ate at him. Sure, it hadn’t actually been him luring Cassie to her near-doom, but it had been his voice and their friendship that led her there. And he hadn’t been fast enough to stop her, hadn’t been able to steal back the connection to her walkie-talkie until it was very nearly too late. He dashed away his angry tears with a fist and forged onwards. 

The pizzaplex was creepily silent but for some dripping and creaking. His time lost in its walls had been full of music and Freddy’s voice and the animatronics’ annoying chatter. 

He almost dared any of the bots to try and stop him. If they thought he was ruthless before…

As he broke through a locked door near the raceway, he started to call out Cassie’s name every minute or two, hoping he was close. He didn’t know exactly where the elevator was, but based on Cassie’s description, he stuck to the employee hallways. 

Coming to a stairwell in his frantic search, he shoved through the door, leaned over the railing and hollered, “Cassie!” at the top of his lungs. It echoed eerily. 

He held his breath, straining to listen. Please, he thought, please, please, be here, be close.

After an agonizingly long moment of silence, there came a faint clack clack clack from below.

Gregory all but hurled himself down the stairs. He didn’t even pause to worry that it wasn’t Cassie, that it was a trick from some bot or another. If it was, they’d regret it. 

“Cassie!” he shouted, pausing between floors a few flights down. “Where are you?” 

The clacking was louder this time, close, and sounded like plastic on concrete. Following it to the next lowest door, which he nearly yanked off its hinges. 

He cast his flashlight beam down the pitch-black corridor, and there, curled against the wall, was Cassie. Her face was shiny with tears and smeared with dirt; the rest of her was coated in dust and grime. Her sweater was ripped in places and dotted with blood here and there. She was missing a shoe. 

“Gregory,” she croaked, her voice hoarse and cracking. Her breathing was labored, and fear speared through him. She hadn’t mentioned being that badly hurt. 

He let out a pained noise and shot to her side without any conscious thought. In one hand, she gripped her flashlight with white knuckles. 

“It died,” she whispered, seeing him glance at it. “And it was so dark, I… I couldn’t…” Her shoulders shook. 

After setting his own on the floor so it shone upward, illuminating the ceiling to best spread the light, Gregory scooted closer and pulled her into a hug. She dropped her flashlight and wrapped her arms over his shoulders, tucking her face against his neck. He squeezed as tight as he dared, and it was an awful thought, but he hoped her her heavy breaths came from panic instead of injury. At the very least, she didn’t wince when he tugged her closer like he wanted them to sink into each other so thoroughly that no one would be able to tell them apart. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her messy hair. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” 

Cassie shook her head. “It wasn’t your fault.” 

Gregory whined. But wasn’t it? 

“And—you’re here. You came,” she said, relieved and awed all at once. Not surprised, though, thank goodness—that probably would’ve carved Gregory’s heart out of his chest, if she’d been surprised that he wouldn’t just leave her there in the dark ruins of the pizzaplex. 

“Duh,” he mumbled. 

She giggled tiredly. “I want to leave,” she said. But she didn’t let go, so neither did Gregory. 

Gregory’s watch crackled after a long few minutes of their quiet breathing. “Gregory?” Freddy asked, the connection staticky. They’d left him in the car. “Vanessa texted me. She said you ran off, and now she cannot find you.” 

“I’m fine,” he said. “I found Cassie. I, uh, don’t really know where we are other than near the raceway. We’ll head back for the lobby, okay?” 

Freddy sighed, fondly exasperated. “I will let her know.” The call silenced with a click. 

“I don’t think I can walk,” Cassie admitted. “Not, not because I’m hurt. I just.” She sighed, sagging more heavily against him. “I’m so tired.” 

“I’ll carry you,” Gregory said, suddenly beyond desperate to get Cassie out of the building by whatever means necessary. 

Dubiously, she protested, “It’s a long way—”

“I’ll carry you,” he repeated. “Piggyback.” 

After a pause, Cassie nodded. They let go of each other with extreme reluctance, and Gregory turned around and settled into a crouch. It seemed to take all of Cassie’s remaining strength to stand and climb on his back. He passed her the flashlight.

They were really close in size—Gregory barely had an inch on Cassie—but as he carefully stood and secured his hold under her knees, he knew he’d carry her as far and as long as she needed him to, no matter how tired he got. 

“I’ve got you, Cassie,” he said, heading back to the stairwell. She leaned her head against his, exhausted. “You’re safe now.” 

She hummed. “Duh,” she whispered. 

He snickered, and she did too, and they went into the ruins together. 

[lucerothings1]

tyler lawrence gray x short/bottom!mreader

tyler and m/n have complicated relationship(they hookup but Tyler doesn’t want to make it official) so when m/n started dancing with another guy Tyler gets jealous…

Warnings: gay sex, top Tyler, bottom reader, sorta jealous sex, oral, fingering, missionary.

Summary: you and Tyler where really only fuck buddies until he finds you one day dancing with someone and becomes jealous.

Tonight was finally the weekend you had been waiting to go to a party. That’s what you where actually doing getting really to go out finally it had been awhile now so you were finally really as you walked out your house and drove off to a house party of one of your friends.

As you arrived you set your sight yo the bar having to walk past all the other people as you went to go ever a drink. “Hey cutie haven’t seen you around here” a random guy said to you as you started to vibe to the music that was bounced off the walls.

“I Don’t go out to sketchy house party often” you said back “Well do you think I’m sketchy” “don’t know you well enough to say” you’d aid back “well can I get a dance to get to know me” he said as you nodded back in agreement.

As he got a hold of your hand pulling you threw the crowd of people as you started to dance with him as you felt a strong stair on you from your left as you looked being meet with a mad looking Tyler.

He and you had never really had a relationship to say but you where what people call fuck buddies in a way only sleeping with each other you had finally gotten tired of him treating you like that so you but a stop to it as you learned to respect yourself.

As you he started to walk to you as he pulled you from your hand tugging you up a flight of stairs as the guy you had been dancing with stayed quiet not sure what was happening.

“What the fuck was that” Tyler yelled at you as he pushed you in to a room and slammed you into the wall causing you to look up since he towered over you.

“What do you mean what the fuck I was dancing with a guy that has no reason for you to be jealous” “I’m not fucking jealous I don’t care but it looked like you too where basically fucking down there” “oh so you know all about people fucking don’t you fucking sex addict” you yelled as you shoved passed him trying to reach to the door before Tyler pushed you to him as he locked his lips on yours as he reached behind you and locked the door.

As you kissed him back completely forgetting why you had stopped doing this to begin with as he picked you up and you wrapped your legs around him as he took you to the bed of the room and laid you on it as he took off his shirt as you watched his chiseled body as you took of your shirt off as well and grabbed him from his waist as you pushed him onto the bed and begun yo take off his belt as he kicked of his shoes.

“Finish taking off your clothes” he said as he begun to take off his pants and underwear as well as you took off yours. As he laid on the bed with his legs spread open as you climbed on the bed in between his leg.

“Oh fuck come on open up that pretty little mouth of your baby boy” he said as you opened up your mouth for him taking in his hard 12 inch length as he got a handful of your hair as he pushed you down his cock causing you to gag on him as he took you to his base as you felt his pubs on your chin as you started to stroke your member to relive it.

“Oh fuck baby boy yeah suck my big cock” he said as he started to fuck your throat. “Oh fuck that’s good baby boy” he said as he pulled you off his cock as you could finally breath fully again.

“Ah fuck baby come on” he said as he pushed you down on to the bed as he lifted up your legs and spitted on his cock and your entrance. “Aren’t you gonna prep me first” “No I’m not slutty boys that rub there ass on random guys don’t get to prep” “but wai-ah fuuuck” you yelled as he shoved his whole length passed your entrance and begun to rock his hips in and out.

“Ah- ah-oh fuuuuckkk” you continued to yell as he begun to fuck you dumb and got ahold of your throat holing you “fuck yeah you love my cock fucking your tight ass don’t you huh now are you gonna continue to rub your ass on more idiots or do I need to punish you more huh answer me” he said as he continued to have a hold on your throat and fuck you on his cock.

Since you couldn’t even form word all you could do was nod in agreement which just caused Tyler to grin and fuck your even harder. “Oh fuck ima cum” he said picking up the pace by holding onto your waist with both his hands as he let go of your throat letting you get air once again “oh-ahhhh fuck ima cum” you moaned obit as you began to stroke yourself as you cummed on top of your chest.

“Oh fuck yeah baby take my fucking load” tyler yelled as he exploded inside you and painted your walls white as he stopped and pulled out of you as you felt his load start leaking out of you. “Oh fuck I’m sorry I got jealous” “HA I fucking new it” you yelled out teasing at him “okay okay yeah you knew but it just” “ you don’t know how to ask me to be your boyfriend” “ how’d you know” “oh please I could tell so are you gonna ask me or am I just gonna continue to be your cum dump” “okay M/n well you be my boyfriend” he said as you smiled and nodded as you pulled him on to a kiss as you guys stayed like that a while before getting up and changing as you both made your way to the party again.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Twst with a very little twist

Part 3 - Leona’s chapter / If at first you don’t succeed

Summary: Local baby appears in a coffin in a different world with no identification or way home. Prevents several mental breakdowns accidentally. More at 11.

(Masterlist)

Leona stared at the kid Crowley was trying to hand off to him. He kept his arms firmly crossed over his chest to block this from happening, but this was not deterring the man from trying.

“Kingscholar,” Crowley said, his smile strained at the edges. “It would not be fair to leave all of the responsibility to Heartslabyul alone!”

Trey Clover smiled nervously over the Headmaster’s shoulder. “We wouldn’t mind.”

“He said they wouldn’t mind,” Leona said, lifting a hand briefly to gesture for Crowley to turn around and leave.

The Headmaster, though, saw this as an opportunity. He shoved the baby into the crook of his elbow, forcing his arm to close around it, and Leona was forced to either grab hold or let the kid fall.

Leona, regrettably, chose not to let the kid die… actually, perhaps chose is not the correct word to use. It was a force of habit more than anything – he was a Magift player, of course he was going to make sure the projectile that was practically tossed at him didn’t hit the ground. He’d lose possession of the ball!

By the time his brain had caught up to his body, Crowley had taken flight. Literally. Shooting hundreds of feet up in the air because he knew that it was the only way Leona wouldn’t be able to catch him and give the child back.

Leona had half a mind to try throwing the child at the man but, frankly, he didn’t trust Crowley to save them, and attempted child murder should always be avoided. Especially when there are several witnesses around, at least one of which is apparently attached to said child.

Speaking of…

Leona glowered at Trey Clover. “What are you looking at?”

Trey’s eyes widened and he took time to send one last wave to Curly before turning around and booking it out of their dorm.

Absently, Leona noted that the boy was surprisingly fast despite his somewhat bulky frame. He could be a threat in the upcoming Magift games.

Leona should take him out.

Unfortunately, Trey was in his third year. Third-years are expected to be very well versed in flight and wind magic (Leona should know, seeing as this wasn’t exactly his first time being a third-year). Which meant making him fall down the stairs was not exactly an option. Beyond that, though, he wasn’t exactly a ‘careless’ person, meaning staging a different kind of accident would be even more difficult.

He heard the guy baked, and Leona wanted to do something with that, but he only did it in the safety of his dorm, meaning it would be hard to get Ruggie in there without being noticed…

So… it would be hard to take him down directly. Maybe if he was distracted by something else?

He glanced down at Curly, who was waving after Trey long after he had disappeared from view.

If the guy was that attached to the kid after barely a month and a half, so much so that he would come into another dorm so he could bargain with Crowley up to the very last second, then how attached was he to that childhood friend of his? If Riddle Rosehearts were to, say, take a little fall, would he try to help?

Maybe, if Leona was lucky, the both of them would accidentally work against each other while trying to catch themselves and each other, and he would take two powerful players out of the game at once.

The kid, apparently, finally realized that Trey was gone and not coming back. They slumped over his arms.

Wow. Zero years old and the kid was already done with life. Leona had never related to a child more.

Maybe Cheka had been a fluke. People always talk about kids being the best, most fulfilling part of a person’s life, or whatever the hell. Maybe this was what they were talking about. Solidarity, with a small little someone who practically never leaves your side for fear of starving to death. Was this what character development feels like? A new understanding?

Curly peered up at him through their messy fringe.

And then they reached up, towards the top of Leona’s hair.

Nope. Absolutely not. No no no. Gross. Character development canceled. He flattened his ears back before they could touch them.

The kid did not seem particularly happy about this.

Good. At least Leona wasn’t alone in his misery.

Though he would prefer not to be miserable at all. He handed the kid off to Ruggie. “You deal with it.”

“Oh hell no, I don’t want to take care of it either –!”

“I’ll pay you to babysit.”

Ruggie looked down at the baby for a moment, seeing them in a new light, dollar signs practically shining in his eyes. “How much?”

“Three thousand madols a day.”

“Don’t be stingy.”

Leona scoffed. “Don’t be greedy, more like.”

They were silent for a moment. Ruggie’s face lit up in a strange kind of smile, one that was more than a baring of teeth than anything else.

Ruggie pushed the child into Leona’s chest once again. Leona was starting to get deja vu. Curly did not seem particularly happy about getting passed around like a hot potato.

At least Ruggie seemed to be having a good time. One of them had to be.

“Oh, woe is me. The Headmaster so graciously handed the child over to you, it would be wrong for me, someone who is not even Vice Housewarden, to have such a task delegated to me. I could never go against direct orders from the person who runs the prestigious institution at which I reside.”

Leona gritted his teeth.

“Stingy,” the kid parroted.

“Exactly right, he’s so stingy, isn’t he?” Ruggie said.

Curly nodded firmly.

They don’t even know what that word means!

They grabbed a braid in his hair and pulled. Oh, for the love of –.

“Five thousand madols,” he gave in.

Ruggie smirked. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

And, with that, he turned the kid in his arms.

“You and I are going to be best friends,” he told the kid.

Curly reached up and, this time, succeeded in grabbing an ear. Ruggie, to his credit, only barely flinched, before tipping his head forward to allow the kid full access.

The kid beamed. “Fluffy!”

And, so, a vaguely exasperated Ruggie resigned himself to being pet.

~

Unfortunately, this did not mean Leona was completely free from the responsibility of taking care of a child. If he wanted to take out the competition before the Magift Tournament, he would need Ruggie to use his Unique Magic, since it would make it seem more like an accident to passersby, and carrying around a toddler was not good for stealth.

He grimaced as he watched the kid wander around his room. He had tried to make Curly lay down for a nap, but it seemed Curly had recently decided that naps were government propaganda to make you less productive, because they kicked and screamed until he eventually let them back up.

He had hoped that would be the end of it, but alas. It seemed that Curly’s crusade against naptime extended to other people, too. The moment Leona laid his head down to sleep, he was woken up again by his tail getting stepped on.

He snatched up a giggling Curly. Did they think his bared teeth were a joke?!

Leona took a long, deep breath to steady himself. And then another. A third one for good measure. He looked at Curly for even longer, trying to get across just how unamused he was.

Curly, being a toddler, did not seem to care, wriggling in his grip.

“Fine,” he gritted out. “What do you want to do?”

Curly beamed.

~

You know, despite having spent… longer at Night Raven College than the average student, Leona couldn’t say he had been to Sam’s shop that many times. It was just as strange as he remembered it. Classic groceries contrasting with the many occult items. The almost overpowering smell of disinfectant, likely to cover up something, but he was fine not knowing exactly what. Shadows that seemed too whole, almost seeming to move when he wasn’t looking directly at them.

Let’s just say that Leona didn’t send Ruggie on all of his grocery runs solely due to his laziness.

It was mostly laziness, don’t get him wrong!

But there was also a healthy level of wariness, too.

Curly, of course, did not seem to have a single self-preserving bone in their body. They waddled through the door with the kind of determination that only a toddler in search of candy can have.

Sam grinned at the pair of them from behind the counter. “Ah, littlest imp, you’re back!”

Curly spun around on their heel to wave at the man, immediately distracted from their mission. “Hi, Mr. Sam!”

Leona watched, mildly amused, as the kid made their way over. They smiled widely at the few shopping students they passed, who all smiled back, with varying levels of sincerity.

Curly really did like everyone.

It was, frankly, as if they didn’t have a favorite person at all.

Leona crossed his arms over his chest. Frankly, he thought it was weird. And dangerous — even Cheka tended to stick with his family members, since he was smart enough to know that strangers might be assassins in disguise.

And, even assuming the kid didn’t have to deal with assassins, had their parents never taught them stranger danger? What if they got kidnapped?

… wait, was Leona technically harboring a kidnapped child?

He grimaced at the thought. And then decided that he was simply no longer going to think about it.

He made his way over to the only part of the store that was ‘new’ — a kids’ section. Fully equipped. There had always been kids' items, for the sake of people who become teen parents, but usually those things were kept in the back of the store, and would be brought out only upon demand.

Not anymore, though, for whatever reason.

Maybe, with all of the shopping trips Ruggie had been forced to take Curly on, Sam had realized that having the items out for the kid to see would ultimately get him more money.

“— it’s soft, too! Here, touch!” Sam said, kneeling down to present Curly with a fuzzy onesie.

Curly reached a pudgy hand out and gasped at the apparent softness.

“We’re here for candy,” Leona said, seeing as both the kid and Sam seemed to have forgotten.

Curly looked up at him, wide-eyed, the onesie still hugged to his chest like a teddy bear. “I wannit.”

“You —?” Leona groaned. It wasn’t worth it to argue. “Fine, sure, whatever. Go grab some candy, too, so we can go.”

It was not that easy. For, you see, every time Leona would look away, even to check his phone, Sam would present Curly with a new item, and Curly would beg for it. Leona wasn’t sure where he was pulling them all from. All he knew was that his hatred for Sam’s shop was only growing by the minute.

And there was a lot of minutes.

They left the store a half hour later. Leona glowered at Sam over his shoulder, the straps of his many grocery bags digging into his hands.

Sam simply smiled, lifting a hand in a wave. “Thanks for the business! Come again soon!”

~

Ruggie laughed at him for a solid three minutes when he came back to find Curly in a bear onesie, a stuffed mermaid toy hugged to his chest, passed out on Leona’s rug for some reason even though there was a perfectly good bed a meter away.

“Didn’t know you had a soft spot,” Ruggie teased.

“I’m docking your pay.”

Ruggie spluttered.

“Wait, hold on, Leona, learn to take a joke —!”

~

Leona didn’t have enough curse words for what was going on. And he spoke several languages!

He was woken from his nap to a lot more shouting than he would personally prefer, someone shaking his shoulder persistently. He scowled, flipping over in bed to try and get away from the evil that plagued him, and pressing his face into his pillow, half-hoping he could somehow suffocate himself this way.

The hand was back, and it was back with a vengeance.

Leona was pushed to the floor.

For a moment, he thought about falling asleep in a heap on his rug (Curly might have been right, it really wasn’t all that uncomfortable), out of sheer spite.

But then he opened his eyes.

Mostly because Ruggie said, “Hey, Curly, could you help me wake him up?” and Leona really didn’t want to find out how the kid would interpret that.

Ruggie looked mildly disappointed that he didn’t get to watch Curly kick him, but panic was quick to swallow even that.

“Heartslabyul is picking around.”

Leona narrowed his eyes. “Did you leave anything behind?”

“No!” Ruggie said, surprisingly confident about this despite his concern. “I don’t know why they’re here!”

Leona mulled this over. So, Heartslabyul was here… they shouldn’t know that they were behind the mysterious injuries around campus. And, even if they had known, Leona doubted they would care all that much…

“Any chance they’re looking for Curly?”

Curly lit up.

“Someone told me they were looking for Jack Howl.”

Leona wracked his brain for a second. “That one freshman?”

Ruggie shrugged, nodding.

Okay, fine, Leona was curious. He pushed himself to his feet. “Alright, let’s go see what they want.”

Ruggie picked up Curly. “I’m guessing you wanna see them all, too?”

Curly nodded, beaming.

“Good, ‘cause I wasn’t gonna leave you in this room alone,” Ruggie chirped, pinching Curly’s nose, smiling when they giggled and batted at his hands.

And he said Leona had a soft spot?

~

They found the Heartslabyul group while they were talking to Jack. And two other people that were on Savanaclaw’s Magift team, Louie and Ronno, who were clearly trying to get the Heartslabyul kids to flee.

Jack just seemed annoyed that Heartslabyul wasn’t letting him leave the conversation, to be honest.

“What’s going on here?” Leona sighed.

Instantly, everyone went tense.

The three Heartslabyul students in attendance softened, though, when they saw Curly. Ruggie set the squirming kid down, and they immediately ran over to hug that one annoying freshman with red hair.

Said freshman smirked at his two dorm mates. And then knelt down to hug Curly back. “Hey, kid, they treating you well here?”

Curly nodded, his eyes gleaming. “They give me lotsa candy!”

“Jeez, they’ve already assimilated,” Cater said mournfully, pulling at one of the bear ears on Curly’s onesie.

Leona blinked. He’d noticed that Curly had had a favorite outfit, but he’d never really put any thought to it. The outfit was just as soft as Sam had advertised it, surely there wasn’t much more to it. But, now, he wondered if they wore it because they felt out of place in a dorm where almost everyone was a yajugen.

“Of course they like it better here,” Ronno said. “This is the best dorm, y’know.”

Cater made a disbelieving clicking sound with his teeth.

Ronna narrowed his eyes, taking a step forward, as if preparing to fight Cater. Leona almost didn’t want to stop him, just because it would be a pain, but it wouldn’t do to have one of his Magift team members getting disqualified…

The blue-haired freshman stepped in for him, though:

“Guys. Trey’s hurt. This isn’t the time to be messing around.”

(When Curly hugged his leg, though, he immediately uncrossed his arms to put his hand atop their head, his serious expression softening.)

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Cater said, waving off the boy’s seriousness with a wide grin. He turned to Leona. “There’s been a string of ‘accidents’ involving Magift players, so we came here to warn you guys about it. Not that I think you’ll have much difficulty with it, Leona.”

Leona fought not to let anything show on his face. “What?”

“Since you’re so intimidating!” Cater said. For a second, his eyes narrowed at Leona, and then they continued on the crinkle in a smile that was so fake Leona’s skin crawled. “So, we’re mostly just here to tell Ruggie and Jack here to look out.”

Ruggie’s lips twitched in that way it always did right before he laughed. Leona sent him a severe look out of the corner of his eyes.

Jack scowled. “You couldn’t have done this during school? Or track club, Deuce?”

The blue-haired one, Deuce, flushed red. “It seemed more convenient to do it here, so we could tell both you and Ruggie at the same time.”

“Besides, it’s hard to investigate dorms without stepping inside them,” the redheaded one added, flippantly, though there was something sly in the way he smiled. “So… here we are!”

“Are you accusing us of something?” Louie asked.

“Yeah, I am, actually,” said the redhead.

“Ace,” snapped Deuce. He was ignored.

“You’re super suspicious.”

“On what grounds?”

“You are acting a little hostile,” Cater said, smiling.

“I’ll show you hostile —,” snapped Ronno, stepping forward once again, only to be stopped by a hand on his chest.

“No. You’re going to get disqualified if you fight them. Instead, how about we all play a little game of Magift together?” Leona smiled, all teeth. “No holds barred.”

~

Ruggie walked over to Jack, Curly held out in front of him.

“Heyyyy, Jack, take care of Curly for me while we teach these trespassers right and wrong, yeah?”

Jack looked like he was going to disagree.

But then his arms jerked forward to meet Ruggie’s, his hands closing around them.

Ruggie dispelled his signature spell, smirking and saluting Jack. “Thanks, man!”

Jack was left standing there, a squirming child in his outstretched hands, his eyes wide.

Curly was looking at Jack, clearly just as surprised.

But about something else entirely: “Woooooah, you’re big!”

Leona snorted as he walked away, towards the middle of the field, summoning a Magift disk so they could start their little ‘game’.

~

They managed to get through a little over a game and a half before Jack came back over. Curly was attempting to climb him like a jungle gym, but he was clearly trying to pretend it wasn’t happening.

(His tail was wagging, though, which was definitely giving him away a little.)

“Are you guys done picking on these amateurs?” Jack asked, coldly. The effect was dampened by the child who had noticed his tail and was now trying to grab it.

“Not really!” said Louie.

The three Heartslabyul students, who had been damn near on the ground, immediately attempted to ‘look natural’. Ace went from being flopped on his back to lounging in the sun. Deuce, who had been on crawling on his hands and knees, found his way into a more casual sitting position. Cater stood straighter, arms crossed to hide the way his chest heaved with every breath.

Note to self, Leona thought, bemused, being scared of looking like a wimp in front of a child is a good source of adrenaline.

“What you’re doing is disgusting, and I don’t want to see it,” said Jack.

“Awww, gonna be their knight in shining armor?” Ruggie teased.

Jack scoffed. “Hardly. But if you continue with this, I will have to try to stop you.”

Leona groaned, the amusement bleeding out of him as if it had never been there at all. “You’re ruining our fun.”

“Good!” said Ace, spitefully.

Leona rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Let’s go, everyone.”

Ruggie made his way over to Jack, stepping on Ace’s stomach along the way, to take Curly back from him. “Thanks for your help! Come by my room anytime if you wanna take care of him again!”

Jack rolled his eyes. His tail was wagging, though.

Leona raised an eyebrow. “If you have someone else do the work for you, I have no reason to pay you, Ruggie.”

“Nevermind everything I just said, Jack!”

The freshman’s ears drooped just slightly.

~

“Running with a kid in your arms is hard,” complained Ruggie, mostly to himself. He flopped into Leona’s bed, lifting Curly above him. “You’re heavy, y’know, I should cut back on your sweets.”

Curly gasped in absolute horror. “No!”

“Ahhhh, you’ve convinced me, I guess,” Ruggie said, smiling. “It’s Leona’s money, anyways.”

“I’m going to dock your pay again,” Leona warned as he stepped out of the bathroom..

Ruggie immediately jumped off of the bed, his eyes wide. He turned to look at Leona. A nervous smile made its way across his face. “A-ah… Leona… didn’t… know you were home yet!”

For a yajugen, Ruggie really was unobservant. He barely ever used his enhanced senses. They were, clearly, wasted on him.

He probably had no idea that Jack was currently lingering outside of their door.

Leona tapped his foot on the floor. “So? Are you going to tell me what you had to run away from?”

“The Heartslabyul kids totally suspect us,” said Ruggie.

Leona crossed his arms over his chest. “Do they have any proof?”

“Nah. They noticed my UM yesterday, when I made Jack grab Curly here, but that’s not really proof — just circumstantial evidence.”

“Then continue on as normal, just be more careful,” Leona waved off his concerns. “Speaking of… Jack, get in here.”

For a few seconds, it was silent. And then Jack, slowly, opened the door, making his way inside.

“I… wanted to see Curly, again.”

Liar, thought Leona. “You wouldn’t admit that if it were true.”

“What’re you actually doing here? Need someone to sing you a lullaby to get you to sleep?” Ruggie said, grinning. “I’ve gotten pretty good at that recently.”

Curly nodded his agreement.

“… why are you two doing all of this?” Jack asked.

Leona sighed. “Ruggie, go put the kid in the bath so I can explain everything.”

Ruggie gave a mocking salute. He went out of his way to shoulder check Jack on the way to the bathroom.

Leona waited until the door to the bathroom was shut before turning back to Jack. If he knew anything about kids, it was that they could not keep a secret for the life of them.

“We went up against Diasomnia in round one of the tournament two years running. We were eliminated both times. We’ve got a wall full of championship trophies, but Malleus Draconia ran circles around us like we were still in diapers. In front of the whole world. I looked like an incompetent moron. And now the pro league recruiters pass right by Savanaclaw.”

“That just means we’re not good enough!”

Leona shrugged. “I agree. That’s why we’ve gotta even the playing field.”

“This is wrong!”

“And?” said Leona. “It’s my job to look after this dorm, so I’m going to make dang su — damn sure — we succeed. This is our last chance to go up against Draconia, to restore our reputation! And you’re going to throw it away over, what, morals?”

Jack hesitated. “I can’t let you get away with this.”

Leona smiled. “And what will you do? You have no proof.”

Jack reached into his back pocket, smirking. Only for his expression to drop. He started patting himself down, even looking at the floor for a second.

Ruggie chose that moment to poke his head out of the bathroom, grinning widely. He tossed Jack his phone, any footage he may have gotten deleted.

And then he gave Leona a slightly wary look. “Er… I don’t have anything for Curly to wear tonight. I wasn’t able to get to the laundry, what with Heartslabyul chasing me everywhere.”

Leona sighed. “Just give them one of your shirts. You’re pretty scrawny, it should be fine.”

Ruggie looked mildly offended, but was quick to disappear in search of his stuff.

“I… will stop you,” Jack said, firmly.

Leona snorted. “You can go ahead and try.”

Ruggie came back, his jersey slung over his shoulder. He sent Jack a smile and mocking little wave before disappearing into the bathroom again. Not even a minute later, Curly came out with Ruggie.

The jersey was way too big on them. Hanging off of both of their shoulders. The short sleeves nearly falling over their hands.

Leona punched a pillow. He was cool and suave and hated children he hated them he hated them so damn much.

At least he wasn’t the only one having a hard time. Ruggie was using the hand that Curly wasn’t holding to hide his face, mumbling curses under his breath. Jack looked perfectly fine, but his tail would have knocked over anyone who came within two meters of him.

~

The next morning, they had Magift practice, because damn if having a kid to take care of was going to stop them all from winning. This was an unfair disadvantage. Maybe Crowley simply hated them.

(Ignore all of the unfair disadvantages they had created for the other teams.)

But that begged the question of what to do with the kid while they practiced. It was early, on a Saturday, there was no way any of their dorm mates would be awake — and, even if they were awake, it was doubtful that they would agree to take care of Curly.

So, what to do…

Leona sighed and helped Curly onto his broom, getting on behind them, their head under his chin and his hands over theirs. Whatever. He could play Magift in his sleep, and the small handicap could help him get better at playing.

Curly gasped as they lifted off of the ground. They swung their legs back and forth, as if trying to run through the air, trying to help them go faster.

And, if any of his teammates dared to point out that Leona had wrapped his tail around the kid to ensure that they wouldn’t fall, then he would go extra hard on them during practice that day.

~

In the end, their plan didn’t work out. Heartslabyul had beaten them, Jack had helped them, and Savanaclaw was disqualified for the year.

Leona groaned, his face in his hands, sinking to his knees.

Diasomnia would win, and Malleus Draconia would be inducted into the hall of fame. Their chance at redeeming themselves was gone. All because of a rat in wolf’s clothing and a bunch of people who were mad at them because he went after their dorm’s Dad (or whatever the hell).

A small hand touched his shoulder.

He sighed, deeply, and removed his hands from his face. “What do you want?”

Curly looked at him for a long moment, before smiling. “A hug! I wanna hug!”

Leona barely got time to blink before Curly was crashing into his chest. Tiny arms wrapped around him — or… tried to, they barely even managed to get all of the way around his chest.

He blinked down at the mess of curls beneath his chin.

“I think you’re the coolest, Mr. Leona!”

It was a kid. And an overly friendly one at that. Their standards were probably very low. This meant nothing.

But.

But.

They were clearly trying to comfort him. It was a clumsy attempt, but…

Slowly, he returned the hug, hiding his face in their curls.

For a few minutes. Curly, a typically squirmy kid, didn’t move an inch. Just… stayed there, allowing Leona a moment of reprieve.

Finally, though, he detached from them. Looking at his defeated team.

He cleared his throat. “The inter school Magift Tournament will be happening, and we can — and will — redeem ourselves then.”

For a moment, his teammates looked at him in disbelief.

And then they all jumped to their feet, grinning, already reaching for their brooms and magic pens.

Jack stood off to the side. Awkwardly.

He was a traitor.

“If you want to play, you can.” He grinned, sharply. “But I can’t guarantee your safety, if our teammates want some revenge.”

Jack met his grin, inch by inch.

“Don’t hold back!”

Leona smirked. He had not intentions of doing so.

And, as he got on his broom, holding his hand out for Curly…

He wondered if kids were, really, all that bad.

~

Nevermind. Kids are the worst.

Leona watched Cheka and Curly talk animatedly, their hands waving wildly as they spoke. Cheka had come to check on him when his team hadn’t shown up, and now he had two mini menaces to watch.

And Ruggie was laughing at him.

“Unca Unca Unca!” Cheka said, tugging on his arm. “Can Curly come visit for the holidays?”

Leona pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. What did he do to deserve this? Besides the sabotage, of course.

Curly and Cheka looked up at him with eyes that seemed to shine with stars.

“I wanna play with both of you!” Curly said.

And Leona could only give a small shrug. “If the Headmaster allows it, they can come.”

[k-evans-reads]

In Living Color

Chapter 10 - Part One

Summary: When Natalie Marton, lead character designer for Buzz Lightyear, meets the voice of Buzz, Chris Evans, the sparks are undeniable. But when their work pushes them away from each other, both physically and emotionally, will the sheer differences between their worlds be enough to force them apart?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Pixar Animator OFC Natalie Marton

Word Count: 7,000

By: @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI. Smut.

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July 2021

Chris’ leg was bouncing anxiously as the private plane slowly rolled along the runway after landing in California. He didn’t know why he should be nervous, something which his younger brother had obnoxiously pointed out just moments earlier, he had no reason to be. But there was something in him that still felt anxious, that wondered what it would be like seeing Nat again. So much had happened since they’d been in person and although he knew just how much they’d grown closer, emotionally becoming so connected in his time away, his anxiety was trying to convince him otherwise. 

It didn’t help that he’d been building today up in his mind for months now, practically dreaming every day of how it’d go, what would happen, that now he was more nervous than he’d been in a long time for anything, but especially a date. She just was…. it for him, and the fact that she was that already, after only a few months of knowing each other and a few moments together, was reason enough for him to feel this way.  

But when Dodger jumped up from where he’d been laying at Chris’ feet as the flight attendant opened the door, Scott shot Chris a smile, more confident about the evening going well than Chris was, especially when Nat had asked if she could pick Chris up from the private airfield. With them going straight to the restaurant, Chris had come dressed for the evening, wearing his tight white tank top and a watercolor style patterned shirt that he knew Nat would love hanging unbuttoned on top. He wanted to look a little bit nicer, showing Nat he put effort into it, not having any interest in playing things cool. He was crazy about Nat and he wanted her to know it. 

That anxiety that was hanging at his heels was still ever present when he finally stood up behind Scott who grabbed his bags and Dodger’s leash, telling him, “Alright, I’ll drop Dodge and your shit at your house and then I’m headed home. Have fun tonight.” 

“Thanks Scott. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he promised, clapping his brother’s shoulder before he turned, taking one last glance around the cabin to make sure he had everything. 

Chris shoved his nervous hands into the pockets of his dark wash jeans and turned the opposite direction of Scott once they headed down the short stairs and onto the pavement. He glanced down at his phone, looking at the text again to see where Nat was parked but as he kept walking and lifted his head, he found that he didn’t have to look any farther to find his girl. 

She was just stepping out of the driver's seat of his Tesla and suddenly the past few months of being without her seemed to hit him hard. Every inch of him wanted her in every sense of the word. He wanted nothing more than to have her in his arms and commit that feeling to memory, never wanting to be without it again and luckily he didn’t have to much longer when Nat’s eyes landed on his, her entire face lighting up as she ran over to him in her black heels and practically leapt into his arms, showing him just how happy she was to be with him too. 

Chris closed his eyes as he held her off the ground, squeezing her tight and breathing in that fresh lavender scent of hers. He had missed this so badly, not getting hardly any of it before he’d left for Europe and he was determined to make up for it now. He didn’t even know how long they stood there, holding each other so tightly until Chris finally set her down on her feet and pulled back enough to see her face but only got to for a second before Nat was crashing her lips to his, reminding him that was the other thing he’d been missing. 

He kissed her for as long as she let him, pulling back when his lungs began to burn and rested his forehead against hers, pressing kisses to any skin he could reach as he whispered, “I fuckin’ missed you.” 

“I can’t believe you’re actually here,” she replied just as quietly, her hand moving through the hair at the back of his head. He’d gotten his hair cut by one of the hair stylists on set when filming wrapped last week, and while it was definitely shorter than he preferred – and what he secretly knew Nat liked – it was still a welcome change after looking like Lloyd for the last four months. 

“Finally,” he chuckled, moving his forehead off at hers and looking her up and down, holding her hand in his. Her little black dress was definitely a surprise, something he’d never seen Nat in before, but he fuckin’ loved it. “You look gorgeous, Nattie.” 

She shrugged, a cheeky smirk on her face as she squeezed his hand a few times. “I’ve got a date tonight so I wanted to dress up a little,” she mentioned nonchalantly. 

“You look fuckin’ amazing,” he muttered with a shake of his head, eyes taking in her slightly more dramatic than usual makeup and lingering on her purposely-messy updo. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with your hair straight before.” 

She blushed and shrugged, admitting, “I only do it for special occasions.” 

“I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks this is pretty fuckin’ special,” he laughed a little, grinning at her as they slowly began walking, hand-in-hand, to the car across the lot. “I’m so glad to be back with you, Nattie.” 

She leaned against his side as she confessed, “Me too.” 

Chris couldn’t help but stop them and reach out, letting a hand rest on her soft cheek as he looked down into those beautiful eyes he’d missed getting to see. There was so much unsaid in that moment, but it didn’t need to be because both of them were feeling the same thing and they knew it. He couldn’t help but lean down and kiss her once more, soaking in the taste of her kiss before pulling away with one little kiss to her forehead. 

“Just so you know…” Nat whispered as he pulled back from her forehead, a smirk on her red lips. “I like kissing you a lot better without the mustache.” 

Chris rolled his eyes, shaking his head as they began walking side by side again towards the car. “I can’t even make it to the fuckin’ car before you brought up the mustache!” He muttered playfully, but he felt the same.

“Well can you blame me? It was pretty awful,” Nat shrugged simply, smirking next to Chris as her heels clicked against the pavement.

“As promised, it was shaved before I came back to the states,” he reminded her, watching as she swung their hands back and forth a little, practically vibrating with excitement. “I just can’t believe you’re driving my Tesla. I never thought I’d see you behind the wheel of it, especially now that your car got recovered.” 

“As much as I love my car, I thought this might look a little better for a date than my Trooper that now has the paint scratched and the hubcaps missing thanks to my car thieves,” Nat sighed, and Chris nodded as he remembered the state it was found in, a few cities west of where it was stolen. They both had been relieved that it was relatively fine, but it was definitely due for some TLC in the shop soon.

“I’m just glad they found it though,” he whispered, but then smirked as his eyes moved up and down his girl again. “Although I think seeing you in my car is pretty sexy.” 

She shrugged, smirking as she agreed with a small laugh, “I am pretty good at sitting.” 

“Well get your cute ass in, I’ll drive,” he said as they got to the car, holding his hand out for the key fob.

But Nat bit her lip and looked at him with a smirk, and despite handing over the key, she murmured, “I don’t know if you should. I’m not sure you can keep your eyes on the road.” 

And Chris chuckled to himself, moving the fob between his fingers as he looked at her through his lashes, whispering, “I haven’t seen my girl in months and she picked me up looking sexy as fuck, so can you blame me?” 

He bit his lip as he saw the way she reacted to that simple rhetorical question, the deep blush that not only spread across her lips but also her chest, and then how she just nodded with pursed lips, dropping his hand.They both walked around the car, Chris chuckling to himself as he watched Nat easily open the door – something she’d struggled with only a few weeks ago – and they both slipped into the car without another word. He let out a sigh as the car automatically adjusted to his settings, the seat slipping back to accommodate his height and he looked over at Nat, smirking to himself as he felt nothing except a deep attraction to her. 

As he turned the car on Chris couldn’t help but reach over and rested his hand on her thigh, just needing that point of contact before he leaned his head against the seat, gazing at her while he told her softly, “I really missed you, Nattie.” 

He saw the tender look in her emotional eyes before she reached over to rest her hand on his cheek, rubbing her thumb against the smattering of prickly scruff before Nat connected their lips for their first unrestrained kiss, behind some semblance of closed doors and privacy, since seeing each other again. It just felt so good, not just the kiss but all of it. Having her back with him, feeling her touch, hearing that gorgeous laugh of hers, it all felt so perfect but what was even better to him was knowing that come tomorrow, he wasn’t going to have to leave like he’d done before. He was going to get her fully and nothing made him happier than that. 

He’d missed her. He’d missed her wild curls, the ones she barely seemed to have the time or patience to handle as the day progressed, before she resigned to her fate and just threw it up in a bun that was always somehow wilder and weirder than the last. He’d missed the faux-judgmental looks before she burst into laughter, shot at him from across the room or a conference table. He’d missed how she always succeeded in sneaking something that would make his trainer hate her into his meals, whether it was ice cream at lunch or copious amounts of carbs or cheese at dinner. He’d just missed her. Everything she did, everything she was, and everything she had become to him.

But when Chris felt her arms wrap around him and pressed her body into his the best she could from where they were in the car, he realized he’d missed that too. He couldn’t stop his hands from running up her side, tracing her figure until they slid around to her back and pressed her even closer to him. Suddenly she pulled away from him, confusing Chris and making his eyes open just in time to see her grabbing the edges of her black dress and pulling it up her thighs before she climbed across the center console and planted herself in his lap, knees on either side of his hips while her hands rubbed along his firm chest. 

His eyes were wide as he looked up at her, seeing the way she smirked as his head leaned back against the headrest to meet her eyes. And – not for the first time – he found himself in awe of her, of just how amazing and perfect she was, attracted to her in every sense of the word. Chris’ hands yet again reached out for her, pulling her body against his impossibly tight before their lips found one another’s again, their tongues tangling and soft sighs filling the car. He had dreamed of this for so long, wanting to remember what it was like to have his hands on her, rubbing down her back and groping at her ass the way they were right now. But none of his dreams matched up to how good it was to actually be feeling it, to be finally feeling her weight on his lap. 

Chris was so lost in her, so lost in the feeling of finally getting to kiss her that he had barely noticed her shifting in his lap until she started rolling her hips against him, making Chris need to pull away to take a long breath as he bit out a strained curse, leaning his head back against the headrest as she continued moving her hips against him. 

“Nattie, I thought I was taking you out for a nice dinner,” he ground out, his eyes flying close as she passed over him. 

But she smirked and leaned in, pressing her lips to his neck as he tucked a loose strand of hair back behind her ear. “Oh you still are, I’m starving,” she drawled. 

He gently moved her back to sit up, cringing a bit at just how…. enthusiastic he clearly was already. “I don’t think I have much room to really move here so maybe we do dinner first and then head home,” he suggested, his hand coming to rest on her arm as his thumb moved back and forth over the bare skin there, and he watched as she slipped out of his lap and moved back to her own seat. “I finally have time with you so I don’t want to rush it.” 

But Nat studied him for a few moments, eyes flicking between him and his pants before she asked, “What if I help you take the edge off now?” 

“...Are you bein’ serious?” 

She nodded and shrugged, a small smirk on her lips as her eyes watched him nod back quickly. It felt like a blur as she helped him unzip his pants and pulled him out of his briefs, and Chris’ eyes widened as she leaned down across the console, kneeling on her own seat to get closer to him. He watched from under his long eyelashes as Nat’s small hand wrapped around his base while her other hand ran along his length, her fingertips gently tracing the thick vein and making him harden in her hands. 

Chris was already on edge, leaning his head back against the headrest and taking in deep breaths through his nostrils while he muttered, “Fuck Nattie.” 

She chuckled, and the puff of air against him nearly made his hips jerk. “Just relax, baby,” she murmured to him unhelpfully. 

But how in the world could he do that? It was impossible to relax when he saw Nat’s red lips wrap around his tip and feel her warm mouth on him. Just the sensation of her tongue swirling around his tip was enough to make him want to die right then and there. He couldn’t believe this was happening, that he actually was here with her and that she was all his. 

It had been so long since they’d been together, and only once at that with that one time being so clouded with other emotions and uncertainty but this was different. They both knew how they felt and the emotional connection that they had months to build was stronger than anything he’d experienced before, but it only made it harder for him to hang on as she bobbed her head up and down. 

Chris reached out to cradle the back of her head with his hand, moaning obscenely and barely being able to open his eyes to look at her, knowing that would push him over the edge instantly. But he had to feel her, wanting to remind himself this was real and actually happening. His chest was heaving with his heavy breaths as she kept hollowing her cheeks and sucking him so perfectly and Chris let his hand run down her back as he grunted out from the particular way her hands fondled him. His hand kept following down the curve of her back and came to rest on the curve of her behind, just wanting to touch her as he focused on keeping his breathing in check. 

But the moment that Nat started sucking him harder and bobbing her head up and down faster and faster, his heart started pounding in his chest and he knew there was no way he was going to be able to hang on. He was panting heavily but managed to push out a “Nattie,” in an attempt to warn her that he was almost there but she just stayed put, keeping her tongue rubbing against him so perfectly until he couldn’t stand it anymore and finally spilled over his peak. 

His whole body went limp at the incredible release, melting into the seat as Nat only pulled off of him to swallow before she wrapped her lips back around his tip to gently suck him as his breathing caught back up to normal. Chris finally let his eyes flutter open when Nat finally sat back up and gave him such a soft smile that he was melting all over again. 

But she surprised him when she smirked suddenly, her eyes amused as she slowly pointed at him sheepishly and told Chris, “I think you’re going to want to wipe off your face.” 

Not understanding, Chris reached out to flip down the sunvisor where the mirror was put and he instantly burst into laughter at the sight of Nat’s dark red lipstick smudged all over his face. His loud laughter filled the car as Nat reached for her purse in the backseat and fished out a makeup wipe as she reached over to swipe it across his cheeks before moving to wipe off the lipstick that was smudged in other places other than just his face.  

Once they’d both settled – and shared more laughter – they’d buckled their seatbelts and Chris put the car in reverse, heading out of the airfield’s parking lot and towards the freeway, to the little Mexican restaurant, Chris letting out a tiny sigh of relief as he realized they still had time to make their dinner reservations. 

Chris was fairly quiet most of the car ride while Nat babbled on about the mishaps that had happened the past couple days at work featuring Mark and Jamie and the random antics they’d gotten into. He didn’t even really find himself paying that much attention to what she was saying, but just loved getting to finally be here in the car listening to her voice from right beside him rather than from the other end of a phone or blurry FaceTime call. 

But when they’d gotten tucked into a booth in the back corner of the restaurant, Chris couldn’t wait another moment to marvel, “God, I just missed you so fuckin’ much.” 

Her lips spread into a smirk as she huffed, barely looking at him from over the top of the menu as she mused, “I bet you did because I doubt Scott got you cheating on your diet and eating ice cream at lunch.” 

He shot her a look from across the small table, telling her, “I’m not sure that’s a bad thing.” 

“Might not be, but it’s also a lot less fun,” Nat simply shrugged as she put the menu down and reached for a chip from the bowl between them. 

Chris nodded, his eyes moving over the different fajita options. “If I could have ice cream for lunch and look like you do, I’d go for it too,” he murmured. 

“Yeah because you look so terrible,” Nat rolled her eyes but smirked when they caught each other’s gaze. 

Chris put his menu down on the table, smacking Nat’s hand away playfully as she tried to take a chip before he could. He smirked at her as he took some salsa too, and told her, “Hey, you’re the one that told me I did with that mustache.” 

“Yeah but that was all the mustache’s doing,” she rolled her eyes as she watched him eat, taking a chip of her own again as she reached for her water. “So are you happy to be done or is it sad when you wrap a project?” 

“A little of both. This one was fun, I mean you know I love the Russos but it felt like a whirlwind going from Prague to France and then Croatia so I’m ready for a break,” Chris shrugged, leaning back against the cushioned booth as he ran a hand over his face. “The past few days back home in Boston I just slept most of the time trying to get back on the right schedule.” 

Nat frowned as she listened to him, adding, “And now that you’re back in California you have to adjust again.” 

“It’s worth it though,” Chris grinned, but turned his attention quickly to the waiter as they came by to take their orders and drop off their drinks. 

Once they were alone again, she watched him as he took another chip.“Do you know how long you’re going to stay here?” She asked, voice a little more tentative than he’d expected from her.  Before he could reply, she rushed to add, “Will you be here until you have to go record in New York?” 

Chris nodded, remembering how they’d structured the process so he could record closer to Boston in the New York offices, but that was before everything changed and he had something here that made him want to stay in Los Angeles, for the first time in a long time. “I actually emailed Rob to see if I could switch it here instead,” he began slowly, knowing he hadn’t told her about that yet, but had been unable to help himself when the head of the recording department for the film sent over the drafted schedule for fall, putting him in the New York City a few days a week. “I just have a much better reason to be here than New York.” 

But she smirked around the straw of her lemonade then drawled, “Yeah because I bet the recording studio in New York doesn’t have a soft serve machine like we do here.” 

“Good point,” Chris chuckled, his smile growing wider at Nat’s laughter. After taking a sip from his soda, he settled back into the conversation, asking her, “So how is everything at work going?” 

“It’s been so busy. Good, but busy just trying to get everything for Lightyear on track. We had fallen behind with everyone just getting back into the routine after working from home so it slowed us down,” she explained, and Chris nodded even though he couldn’t imagine what it must’ve been like for her, trying to catch up on work in between everything in the last few months. “A bunch of us have been working weekends to get caught up and I think we’re back on track now.” 

He nodded, putting his soda back onto the table and told her, “Good because you’ve got plans this weekend.” 

Nat sighed, adjusting the thin strap on her dress from where it’d slipped off her shoulder and said, “Yeah, it’s just too bad they’re not with you.” 

“I fuckin’ missed you, Nattie,” he whispered, all but a pout on his lips at the stupid joke, but smirked when she laughed loudly at him. 

“I missed you too,” she replied just as quietly, slipping her hand across the table to hold his, and Chris felt thankful – not for the first time that night – that they weren’t in the view of other diners. “Oh, Heather and Alex said hi by the way.” 

He smiled at the mention of her sisters, but quickly shook his head. “I honestly can’t believe your family doesn’t hate my guts after what happened,” he murmured, shifting in the booth. “Have they stopped getting follow requests by now?” 

“Yeah it’s all died down,” Nat assured him, even though Chris had some doubts, especially when it came to her own accounts. “But trust me, they’re your biggest fans. Ever since you sent over dinner while you were filming when Heather was visiting me, she’s been on your side.” 

He blushed a little, meeting her eyes as he honestly told her, “If I would have known I could win them over that easily, I would have done it a lot sooner.” 

“Well you didn’t have a lot to compete with considering they hated my fiance by the end of our relationship,” Nat mentioned, rolling her eyes playfully. 

He watched her, almost feeling out how she felt before he slowly asked, “You can tell me to fuck off, but just how badly did things end between you two?” 

“Enough that it’s painfully awkward now at birthday parties,” she muttered, rolling her eyes for real this time. “He’s cousins with Alex’s husband.” 

Chris frowned and curiously asked, “Was he at your niece’s birthday party?” 

“Luckily no,” Nat informed him, and Chris felt some relief at that. “He’s working in Europe and is engaged to some girl there so he’s not really home anytime other than the holidays, so luckily Ella’s birthday only had good people at it.” 

Chris nodded, taking the cue to drop the conversation. It wasn’t exactly prime ‘first date’ subject material, so he turned to the one thing he knew would always bring a smile to her face and said, “I’m sure your family were happy to have you home for a little while.” 

“Yeah, it was really nice,” Nat nodded, shrugging a little with a small smile. “My dad was a little down because the day of Ella’s party was my mom’s birthday so I think it was nice for him to have us all together.”

Chris’ shoulders fell a little at the mention of her late mother, not realizing the significance of the weekend visit beyond Ella’s birthday. “I’m sure it wasn’t easy for any of you,” he whispered. 

“I don’t remember her at all so it’s a lot different for me than it is for anyone else,” Nat admitted, surprising Chris a little until he remembered how young Nat had been when everything happened – only two years old. “But all things considered I think my dad had a really good weekend. He seemed pretty happy.” 

Chris nodded, glancing down at his lap before he added, “Until I sent his daughter home in tears from being an ass.” 

“Well, my dad was actually the one who told me to call you after everything happened.” 

Chris looked back up at her, shocked as he asked, “Was he really?” 

“Yeah, he said that I was in too deep for you to not call you back, and that he saw the way you looked at me when he was visiting so he knew that you cared about me,” she laughed, and he couldn’t help but laugh at how obviously hilarious she now found it all. 

“He’s certainly right about that,” Chris agreed, unable to tear his eyes off the woman in front of him.

Chris only got the chance to see her beautiful smile for a moment until the waiter pulled his attention away when he brought the foot and set it down on the table in front of them. As they dug in and started eating, Chris realized even more than he had the past few months that he had fallen completely head over heels for Nat. Throughout the entire meal, neither could make it more than a few minutes without hysterically laughing at something the other said before they’d fall right back into their easy conversation. Nat’s easy charisma and authenticity had him hanging on to her every word, loving her comically expressive face and ability to put anyone around her at ease, specifically him. There didn’t seem to be a moment that he was with her that he wasn’t smiling. 

She had polished off her entire meal before she curled her legs underneath her in the booth, hands waving wildly as she regaled a tale from the day before featuring her somehow landing in one of the perfectly landscaped bushes at the Disney campus which made Chris slap a hand to his chest, eyes squinted up as he tipped back and sputtered with loud laughter, “How the fuck does this stuff happen to you?” 

“That’s the same thing the Head of Animation asked me when I showed up to the meeting with leaves still stuck in my hair,” Nat laughed loudly, her cheeks bright red as he shook his head at her. 

And that was how their dinner ended – loud laughter and unbelievable stories, following them back into his car as they headed toward Chris’ house in Laurel Canyon. It felt almost surreal that he was actually here with Nat. It had been over two long months since he had her back in person and there was so much that so easily fell back into place but also so much that somehow felt… different. He’d never had a relationship like this, that he’d been pulled away before things had a chance to naturally evolve. With them having spent that one night together right before he left, and the uncertainty that had followed, they never had a chance to actually be together with all their emotions out in the open. 

They had been forced to be away from each other, but the more Chris thought about it, the more he realized how much closer it had helped them grow and connect emotionally. They both had to make a choice to put effort into it, it wasn’t something that had just fallen in his lap or been convenient like many other of his relationships had been. This was one both he and Nat had to work for and the emotional closeness that had sprung from that was something he hadn’t felt with most girlfriends during the entire course of their relationship, let alone so early on and without hardly any face to face. 

But this was different and Chris knew it. 

Every bit of him wanted her. He wanted all the sensitivity, laughter, friendship, and chaos that came with her. But there was another way in which he wanted her and hadn’t been able to have but by the way that Nat’s hands were wrapping around his waist as she curled herself against his body as they walked up to his front door, he knew that she wanted him too. 

He had barely gotten the door closed behind him before he was slipping his arms around her waist and pulling up against her to kiss her deeply. Instantly her hands were grasping at his neck, pulling him even tighter as she kissed him back fervently. It was almost funny as he thought back to the last time a few months ago when they were in this exact spot, kissing by the front door but this time was so different. No uncertainty. No lingering question. No urgency. This time, there was only longing and desire.

The pair stumbled over to the couch, never hardly breaking their kiss until Chris ungracefully plopped on the couch while pulling Nat’s hips down to follow him. Just as she had done in the car, he watched as she pulled the hem of her dress up dangerously high on her thighs before straddling his hips and sitting down in his lap, only resulting in getting him more worked up than he already was. His arms wrapped around her hips, pulling her impossibly tighter against him and Nat rubbed her body against his as she kissed her way up his neck before bringing her lips back to his for a kiss which he had decided he’d gone much too long without. 

There was nothing about her that didn’t attract him and he could feel just how turned on for her that he was with every little roll of her hips into him. But he had only gotten to have this one time before. Only got to feel her and look at her one time and he knew that just wasn’t enough. Chris started sucking at her bottom lip, earning some of those breathy sighs from her before his hands slipped down and found the hem of her dress, dipping his hands under it and started pulling upward to bring the fabric to bunch at her waist. When his big hands moved back down, he was so thankful for the skimpy thong she’d worn, allowing his hands to feel her round cheeks in his hands that he kneaded and squeezed, causing her to moan with each one. 

He felt completely drunk on her, every sigh and gasp something he wanted to memorize. It felt so good just having her weight in his lap, getting to have his hands on her and getting to feel the touch of her hands rubbing along his chest. But he wanted more. Chris tried to restrain himself the best he could, just enjoying their profuse kissing and he certainly did, but after a while his hands traveled up to find that tiny zipper on her dress and slowly dragged it down. His blue eyes saw those tiny straps fall from her shoulders and with the fabric now loose, Nat pulled back from him and let Chris grab the fabric that was pushed up around her waist and pulled it over her head, tossing it to the floor and leaving her in nothing but that tiny thong and that certainly was a sight that had him growling. 

He brought his hands around her smooth back, tipping her back slightly in his lap so he could fully look at her, his eyes taking in every inch before landing on her face as she smiled at him, instantly making him feel weak. Chris couldn’t help but lean in to kiss her before his lips started trailing down, littering kisses all over her neck and the top of her bare chest, muttering, “Still can’t get over how fuckin’ gorgeous you are.” 

And he swore he could practically feel her melt in his arms at just that one simple phrase that only urged him to go on. Those little sighs kept spilling out of her lips as he covered every inch of her chest in kisses before his mouth wrapped around one of her perky nipples, sucking softly while he kept one arm around her to hold her up and the other to gently grope at her other soft breast. He took his time there, alternating between each one but by the time he was about to finish, he heard Nat’s voice whine, “Chris…” 

“Hmm?” He muttered against her skin, knowing that he’d never get tired of this… tired of her. 

“I want you, baby,” she purred, hearing her little term of endearment for him only adding to his desire for her. 

And as if to prove her point, she rolled her hips down onto his hard manhood still confined in his jeans. But who was he to deny her what she wanted? What good was he doing her if he couldn’t fulfill her every desire in this moment – and not to mention his own. Chris pulled her tighter against him, hooking both his arms around her waist and stood up holding her effortlessly. Nat just snaked her arms around his neck, nuzzling her face into his neck and kissing his skin sweetly while her legs wrapped around him, clinging to him in a way that was driving him crazy as he walked down the hallway, thankful Dodger was too occupied by the food in his bowl to pay them any attention. 

Chris pushed the door to his bedroom open with his foot and then back closed again before finding the bed and gently laying her down. He pulled off every bit of his clothing in record time, freeing him from his constraints, grabbing a condom before he stalked over to the bed, weak at the sight of Nat nearly naked and wanting him. When he reached the bed, Chris ran both of his hands up her long legs before letting one hand dip between her thighs to feel her over the wet fabric of her skimpy thong. 

“God, Nattie you’re so wet for me, honey,” he groaned, his eyes nearly falling shut as he ran his fingers over her. 

“I want you so fucking bad,” Nat admitted, her voice breaking a little as her eyes met his. “I missed you, Chris.” 

“I know, I missed you too,” he whispered, giving a small half-smile. “But this time I don’t have to leave you.” 

She smirked, her head falling against the overstuffed pillows as she confessed, “I like the sound of that.” 

Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to her thigh before hooking his fingers in the waistband and peeled off that last bit of fabric separating them and he nearly moaned when he saw Nat spreading her legs for him. He was ready to kneel down, eager to taste her, but felt a hand on his shoulder. Chris looked up at her, seeing that beautiful face propped up by one of the white pillows and there was nothing but tenderness in her eyes as she said, “Baby, I just want to feel you.” 

“You sure?” 

“Please,” she whimpered. 

With her instruction, Chris nodded softly, knowing he’d get plenty of time in the future to have his face buried between her thighs. He made his way up the bed and got between her legs, but first laid himself down, pressing his chest against hers and kissed her deeply. It felt as if so much was being said with that one kiss and he knew it was. He knew without a doubt that he was in love with her, he’d known it from the minute his eyes landed on her earlier that evening, and in his heart he’d known it for a little longer than that even. It was undeniable, and although he wanted to wait for the right moment to say it to her, he knew that he felt it and felt it deeply. 

It’s what made pushing his length deep into her feeling a million times better. This was an act of the two of them showing each other all that they felt, and what they felt was honest and true. He swore he could have hit his peak right then and there with that initial stretch just from feeling how tightly Nat was gripping on her shoulders and how loud she was crying out for him. It felt so incredible to be tucked inside those velvety walls, Nat squeezing him just right. 

His hands were on either side of her, caging Nat in as his hips found a good rhythm, pulling out and snapping back in perfectly. Nat wrapped her legs lazily around his hips, opening herself up farther and pulling him in. Chris would be lying if he said he hadn’t dreamed of this, what it would be like when they were finally back together again but the best part of this was that it was so much better than he even could have imagined. 

It was so hard for him to hang on and draw this out, but by the way that Nat was arching her back and grabbing at his shoulders while she moaned loudly, he knew that he wasn’t the only one. He was grunting and moaning himself, loving the feel of every snap of his hips, but when Nat brought a hand up to run through her now messy hair as her eyes closed, he knew she was close and brought his thumb to rub at her sensitive button to help get her over the top.

He bit his lower lip, his forehead creasing with the exertion as he muttered, “C’mon Nattie, I know you’re right there.” 

“Chris,” she moaned, a hand landing on his shoulder, clinging to the muscle there. “Baby, you feel so good.” 

“So do you, Nattie. So fuckin’ good,” he chanted. “Just let go for me, honey.” 

Her chest was heaving with her pants as he rubbed those tight circles and kept his hips hitting her deep and causing Nat to be unable to hold on, her hands grasping at those broad shoulders tightly as her whole body went rigid. She felt how tightly her walls were gripping him, making Chris let out an obscene moan right before Nat cried out as she hit her peak and just as promised, Chris just stared down at her face, wanting to memorize that look. 

It only took him a few more labored thrust to get him spilling out and moaning her name, but as his moans turned to heavy breaths, he couldn’t will himself to pull out of her, just wanting to stay fully connected for another moment. It didn’t take long for his lips to find hers, slowly kissing her as they drifted back to reality. 

But somehow Nat felt as if this was anything but reality. She was back here with Chris, finally getting to be together in person, able to talk without barriers or shitty cell reception, touch one another, and just enjoy the other’s presence. It was something they had gone much too long without and were going to enjoy every second of from here on out, determined to make this last as long as she could manage. She was hopelessly attached to him, in every way, and she only hoped he felt the same. 

A/N: They're reunited! We hope you all enjoyed their homecoming! We can't wait to hear your thoughts, and we'll be back with part two on Thursday!

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

🌕 Blood Moon: Chapter Six

Blood Moon: You have been defying nature, and perhaps, even the Gods. After returning to life because of Tony Stark’s sacrifice, all humans now have a designation: alpha, beta, or omega. Angry at the fate you’ve been given, you decide that you will do anything to ensure that your fate is in your own hands. You’ll soon find out that it is never a good idea to tamper with fate, especially when one man makes it his mission to ensure that you understand that you can try to out-fly your destiny, but fate will eventually catch up to you.

Warnings: Language, More Spicy Kissing, Flirty Banter Between Zemo and Reader, Zemo’s Love Language.

To Note: A/B/O Universe Post Snap, Zemo x Female!Reader, Timeline Of Events Is More Spread Out (Weeks Rather Than Days) To Fit Plot Line.

Word Count: ~5.0k

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Upon landing in Riga, you had taken to the streets, following Zemo through the cobbled streets as he led you to the apartment he owned. You took to enjoying the city sights as you walked, but quickly realized that you would need more than jeans and a shirt if you were going to be here for the time being. The Baltic area was a lot colder than the Philippines.

Rubbing your exposed upper arms, you looked up at the nearest old building and let out a sigh. You were running out of chances and time hunting Karli down, and with each day that passed, it felt like the impossible job was getting that more impossible.

“I heard what became of Sokovia. Cannibalized by its neighbors before the land was cleared of rubble, erased from the map.” Zemo spoke up as he walked ahead of you, his own eyes scanning the buildings. “I don't suppose any of you bothered visiting the memorial?”

You had; you had spent plenty of time searching for survivors with the relief effort. Another time you had spent trying to keep yourself busy, so your mind didn’t turn on you. It had been a welcome break from news and technology, if only Sokovia’s destruction hadn’t had to happen for you to heal.

 “Of course not. Why would you?” Zemo sighed before coming to a stop in front of a set of beautifully decorated doors. “We are here.”

“I’m gonna go on a walk.” Bucky announced, shoving his hands in his pockets and taking a few steps back.

“You okay?” You asked him. Bucky gave you a chin nod.

“Yeah. I'll see you guys in a bit.” With that, Bucky turned around and walked back the way you had come.

“Come on,” Sam spoke, looking around. “I feel exposed.”

“You always say that.” You retorted before following Zemo into the building and up the stairs. The building was old, but beautifully built and decorated. You and Sam were led through another set of beautiful doors to a large and spacious apartment.

“Welcome, it’s not much, but it will do for now.” Zemo said as you closed the doors behind you and looked around. There was a kitchen, dining room, and living room all spread out in the spacious area, and several other closed doors that probably lead to bedrooms. You walked forwards and caught sight of a beautiful tub at the end of the room, sitting in a bathroom.

“Oh, I am so taking a bath in that tub.” You sighed out, looking forwards to a nice soak to sooth your aching muscles and chilled body. In the flight from Madripoor to Riga, you had gone from feeling feverish to having chills and just generally freezing your ass off. A nice soak should warm you right up, right?

“I am going to get cleaned up, please help yourself to anything you might find. I’m afraid there probably isn’t very much to be found here, no one has visited this place in years.” Zemo announced. Sam let out a hum before setting his eyes on you.

“Come on, Diana, lemme check that ear of yours.” Sam said, nodding his chin at a couch at the end of the area. Rolling your eyes, you followed him over to the leather couch and sank down on it, practically groaning in relief.

“Ohmygod this couch feels like heaven.” You breathed out, letting out a moan. Sam let out a chuckle as he pulled a chair over and sat down.

“Should I leave you and the couch alone for a little while?” You would have shot Sam a dirty look if you didn’t feel like you could fall asleep at any moment and sleep for the next couple of years.

“Oh, fuck off, Wilson,” You muttered instead, rubbing your forehead once more with a grimace. Your slight headache was still there.

“Alright, no need to get nasty, turn your head and I’ll get this done as soon as possible.” Sam said, raising an eyebrow.

“Gladly,” You said, shifting your head to the side so he had access to your left ear. He started with a few alcohol pads to clean up the dried blood, from there you started dozing off, choosing to rest your eyes.

You were dead to the world until faint voices drew you from a deep slumber you really didn’t feel like pulling yourself from. Groaning, you rolled onto your back and opened your eyes… only to see a different ceiling than the one you remembered. Blinking, you forced yourself to sit up and looked around. Soft pink walls surrounded you with gold trim and filigree.

Across from the bed you had been passed out in, was a set of double doors. To the right an armoire and to the left a vanity and chair. Rubbing your cheek, you rolled to the left and slipped to your feet. Your feet met cold floor; your boots had been removed. Shifting on your bare feet, you blearily looked back to the closed doors and walked towards them.

Your hand twisted the doorknob, and you pushed the right door open, stumbling out of the bedroom and back into the open space of the apartment. You reached up and scratched your scalp, snagging your fingers through a few snares in your wild bedhead.

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” Sam called from the dining table. Wrinkling your nose at the nickname, you shuffled towards the table and let out a grunt. Sam’s eyes washed over you. “How ya feelin’? You konked out hard yesterday.”

Yesterday? Last you knew it was early afternoon… had you been asleep that long?

“V’got a headache,” You mumbled while moving your fingers to your forehead and rubbing it. Your skin prickled and a shiver went up your spine. “And I’m still freezing.”

“Yeah, you still look pale,” Sam commented as you slumped down in a seat next to Bucky, who was scrolling through his phone. Sam walked over and ran the back of his fingers over your forehead. “But at least you don’t seem feverish anymore.”

You grunted.

“I could’ve told you that,” You muttered, leaning back in your seat and closing your eyes. “I just need some Advil, something warm to drink, and preferably something warmer than what I am wearing.”

“Nothing we can’t take care of here in Riga,” Zemo spoke up, walking over to the table with a teapot and several teacups on a tray. “Tea?”

You eyed the pink tea brewing, and the steady stream of vapor pouring from the spout. 

“Yes, please,” While Zemo poured you a cup of swirling pink tea, Bucky scowled at his phone and rubbed his forehead. “What’s wrong now?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Bucky answered, lifting his eyes from his phone. You raised your eyebrow at him as you were handed the teacup full of floral tea. Raising it to your lips, you took in a deep whiff before sipping. The tea was instantly warming and just as floral as it smelled.

“Alright, what do you suppose I do then.” You asked. “Until you get your hands on the remaining vials, I’m not really needed.”

“For starters, you and I have an errand to run after you finish your tea.” Zemo said, pouring more cups of tea.

“Woah, hold up… Who said anything about you running errands?” Sam questioned, giving Zemo a look. The scent of hostility filled floated into your nose, and instantly your headache worsened. You needed a break from the three baring their teeth at each other. It was already a wonder that no fights had broken out between them in the weeks you had spent together. Alphas just didn’t mix well; far to territorial.

“Diana needs more than just jeans and a shirt to wear, she’ll freeze, and I can’t have that.” Zemo announced as he swung his coat around his shoulders. “Also, I owe her a pair of shoes.”

“You owe her a pair of shoes?” Sam questioned; disbelief clear in his voice. You snorted underneath your breath and took another gulp of tea. Leave it to Zemo to be serious about replacing the heels you had to ditch in Madripoor. Hardly practical in this weather and for your mission, but if he felt inclined…

“They were nice shoes…” Zemo answered with a shrug.

“Look, I’m not running around Riga freezing my ass off, okay?” You spoke up, giving both Sam and Bucky a look. “Take this as a chance to go scouting or something, will you? I need an afternoon that isn’t laced with alpha pheromones trying to compete. The tension between the three of you is giving me a headache… and I already have one!”

“Fine, but you try anything…” Sam’s warning was left open ended as he pointed at Zemo. Zemo held his hands with a subtle smile on his face.

“I will give Diana the upmost respect, as she deserves. You have my word.” Sam didn’t look convinced, and Bucky was now giving Zemo his glare of death. Zemo turned his eyes on you, and you froze in place. “Or do you think I will try to harm you in anyway, Diana?”

You shivered at the look in his eye and felt your cheeks slowly heating up. Memories of that stolen kiss on the flight here quickly surfaced in your mind. No one had ever kissed you like that, not that you had a lot of experience in the first place… but Zemo kissed with passion that coerced you into feeling alive once more. It almost made you want to— the look on his face told you he knew exactly what you were thinking about in this moment, and you quickly felt fire burn across your cheeks. Floundering for a few seconds, you tore your eyes from his burning gaze to look anywhere but at him.

“Of course not,” You muttered, deciding that your tea was interesting and needed one hundred percent of your attention. A lovely pink color it was, and the smell, so nice… you could practically feel his silent laughter.

“You better,” Sam threatened before launching himself into a tirade of dos and don’ts while you were out. You took this time to quickly finish your tea and hunt down your shoes and socks. You found them next to the sofa you had been laying on before falling asleep and sitting down, you quickly pulled your socks on and slipped your feet into your shoes. “And Diana, did you spill that bottle of omega perfume on yourself or something? You smell like one again.”

Looking up from where you were tying your laces, you shot Sam a dirty look.

“I am not that clumsy!” You hissed at him before raising your arm and sniffing your skin. Damn, he was right. You did smell like an omega again… you hadn’t played around with the bottle, and as far as you knew, it hadn’t spilled or leaked… but the scent in the air was that of an omega, so you couldn’t refute the fact.

“Who cares what Diana smells like, right now we need to focus on finding Karli.” Bucky said, stepping in.

“Uh, Diana cares what Diana smells like!” You spoke up, shooting Bucky a look. “I don’t want to get harassed by Alpha’s who think I’m free game!”

“Okay, okay, it’s not a big deal, it’s just distracting,” Sam said, stepping between you and Bucky’s glare fest. “Just don’t wander off, we know you can take care of yourself, but if you are with one of us, you’ll be okay.”

You sighed and clicked your tongue in annoyance. It was an unavoidable obstacle you would just have to deal with until you got your hands on your scent busting soap.

“Okay, fine,” You responded before rubbing your hand on your jeans. “Now, if you boys are done playing big brother and reading Zemo the riot act, I’d really like to get some fresh air and warmer clothes.”

“We’ll be around, just call us,” Sam finally huffed. You shuffled past a brooding Bucky and Sam, who was giving Zemo one of his stern looks. Approaching Zemo, you kept your eyes glued to the floor as you passed him, not daring to raise them to meet his while you were in the presence of Bucky and Sam. You followed Zemo out the building, hoping that whatever was going on between you would quickly fade before either man caught wind. Or scent.

You stared at yourself in the changing room mirror, wondering what the hell you were doing in this designer boutique wearing a plum jumpsuit with a cinch below the voluptuous v-neckline that cost over a thousand euros. You couldn’t lie to yourself, you looked good wearing it, and the plain black heels the attendant had shoved on your feet only made your legs look even longer.

“Diana, you’ve been in there for five minutes,” Zemo’s voice called. Huffing, you twisted on the Christian Louboutin black pumps you wore and stepped down from the podium to stalk out from the changing room. You walked out from behind the curtain and waltzed up to where Zemo was sitting, reading a book. Placing your hands on your hips, you stood squarely in front of him.

“This is a little excessive Zemo,” You announced. His brown eyes lifted from the pages he had been reading and met yours. His lips curved into that smile of his and he slowly closed the book in his hands.

“Excessive?” Zemo echoed, dropping his eyes from yours to give your body a more than adequate time of appreciation. You could feel his eyes raking over every inch you had to show, and your inner omega was practically preening with hope that he liked what he saw. “I think not, Draga.”

You tilted your head to the side and dropped your hands from your sides in defeat.

“I have no place wearing something as expensive and luxurious as this,” You responded with a dry look. “Especially when I can’t even afford to buy socks here. I’m pretty sure these shoes cost more than my washing machine back home…”

“Who said you were paying?” Zemo countered, raising his eyebrow. You scowled at him and crossed your arms in a pout. His soft smile only grew. “It looks exquisite on you, Diana, how do you feel in it?”

Your arms dropped from their folded position, and you glanced at a nearby mirror. You hardly recognized the woman staring back at you.

“I like it,” You answered, looking at the tall woman in the mirror. She seemed so mature for the age she looked like. And regal, she would command a room if she wanted. But that was not your reality. Drawing yourself from morose thoughts, your hands returned to your hips as you regarded him. “What do you want to see next?”

His lips twitched once more.

“Surprise me,” Your back and forth continued for at least another hour as you tried on a multiple variety of clothing. The prices continued to be outrageous and no matter your protests of trying on something so expensive, Zemo simply returned your rebuke with a raised eyebrow. You were at your wits end by the time you were trying on designer dresses that belonged on the bodies of beautiful Italian, stick thin models.

You probably said no to more dresses than yes, and you could both feel and smell the displeasure coming from where Zemo was sitting, still reading that book of his. Knowing him, he probably knew why it was taking you so long.

Eventually you got pleading looks from the women helping you and was guilted into trying on one last dress. Unfortunately, the dress they had happily pulled out not only had a high slit on the thigh, but a vast expanse of cleavage and a built-in corset. Whimpering softly, you let them zip you up in it and wiggled your feet back into the ridiculous heels before stepping up onto the pedestal.

This dress covered more of your body than the one you had worn in Madripoor, but you felt so much more exposed. Probably because of what it accentuated. Your entire left leg felt like it was exposed, and you could guess that with one swift breeze, people would be getting an eyeful of your thong.

“Did you finally get her into one?” You heard Zemo’s questioned float through the air. Nope. No way was he going to see you in this.

“No! Absolutely not! You stay exactly where you are!” You blurted out in a panic. You had kept a level head with your emotions, so far that is. But there was no way you would keep it cool if he saw you like this.

“What? I’ve been looking at your outfits all afternoon, Draga, how is this one any different?” His voice sounded closer and your own raised an octave.

“Zemo, I swear to—“ His patience had run out before the Baron materialized in the mirror, your eyes widened, and you jerked around on the pedestal. Freezing in place, you felt like a deer caught in headlights as you stared at him.

“Just as I thought, exquisite. They say the dress makes the woman, I disagree, it is the woman that makes the dress.” He drawled out, slowly moving forward. You flushed and held your arms to your chest. “And yet you always act so timid.”

A frustrated noise emerged from your nose and uncrossing your arms, you turned to him and tried to put on a brave face. It was hard to maintain with the way he was looking at you and the elephant you had yet to discuss. Mainly the whole ‘we had sex in Madripoor and then made out on the plane ride to Riga’ thing.

“Why are you doing this, Zemo?”

“Doing what, Maus?” Your eyes twitched and you tried not to narrow them as you gestured around you.

“This, buy me clothes, buy me that ridiculous necklace you insist I keep… help me with my stupid mistake that embarrassing enough as it is… what happened in the jet shouldn’t—“

“Shouldn’t have what, Liebling?” He pressed, taking a few more steps forward. You curled your fingers into the skirt of your dress. “Shouldn’t have happened? You shouldn’t have given in to your desires? To be pampered like every woman should be? What you felt was natural, nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I haven’t the luxury of giving in to my desires.” You spoke softly, your eyes lowering from his gaze.

“No?” Zemo countered, raising his eyebrow. “I’m giving you that luxury right now and you are still resistant.”

He was now standing directly in front of you, and even with the added height from the heels, you still felt small compared to him.

“What makes you think I am worthy of such actions.” He cocked his head to the side while his lips twitched.

“You make a point, Maus, but isn’t it my choice to decide whom I want to pamper?” Point granted, Zemo, point granted… but you were getting nowhere. Zemo lifted a hand and took a strand of your hair between his fingers “Tell me, Diana, why are you so resistant to me? You go out of your way to be disobedient, you fight against yourself, fight against what has been given to you. Even if it’s in your best interest.”

“I had an authority problem long before the designations came about. Why are you so interested in the first place?” You threw back, a little more hostile than necessary. “I am no one, Zemo, I am just a broken Beta that everyone is waiting to snap again.”

A barely audible chuckle passed through his curvy lips as darkness descended into those warm brown eyes.

“We both know that’s a lie, Liebling.” He was dangerously close now, so close you could feel the warmth from his skin and hear his heart steady as a drum. You wanted to bury your face in his chest and drown yourself in his scent. “You are far from broken; you just want someone who understands. Who can recognize that while you project the picture of perfection, inside your mind is a woman begging for someone to notice how much life has hurt you, and is continuing to do so.”

Icy tendrils of worry and fear burrowed their way into your heart, and you shivered, not liking the look of understanding in his eyes. It was almost like he knew what you were doing to yourself to feel normal, to have an ounce of control. That you would gladly be slowly killing yourself if it meant you had control. Nerves fluttered in your belly like butterflies trapped by glass, wings beating over and over again, only to remain in place.

“And you think you are that someone? Zemo—” You paused, seeing irritation in his eyes at using his last name; you automatically corrected yourself out of not wanting him displeased. “Helmut,” His eyes gaze shifted to a pleased look, echoing deep desire and want. “I am better off alone, that’s just—that’s how I need to live my life.”

“Is that what you really feel? I can tell when someone is lying, Liebling, you are only making things harder for yourself.” Zemo countered, his head tilting inquisitively, the corner of his mouth twitched. He was a persistent man, you knew that. You drew in another shaky breath and tried to remain strong. Time to try another tactic to get him to leave it be.

“I don’t want you.” You stated clearly. Zemo’s gaze didn’t waver, and you now felt like you had been trapped into one choice, admit the complete truth. You clamped your mouth shut, biting on your lip to cease further words that would only pull you deeper into his trap. It was a desperate attempt to remain segregated, hidden, safe in your harbor of control.

But you both knew the truth.

The corner of his mouth tilted, and you knew this discussion was over. The last thing you saw on his face before he was moving, was that infuriating eyebrow lift and predatory smile. You tripped backwards at his sudden movement, but before you could fall, or even flail at the sudden disorienting motion, hands were shoving you back against the mirrors you had been staring into.

Cold mirror pressed into your back and as you were gasping out in shock, Zemo dipped his head and roughly mashed his lips against yours. Surprise lasted only milliseconds before need and want clawed their way to the surface and your hands reached for his coat. Your nails sunk into the fabric, wanting, and needing, Zemo be as close to your body as you could get him.

Zemo let out a chuckle against your lips before biting at your lower lip and giving it a soft tug. You let out a soft moan and yanked on his jacket, stretching up on your toes to chase the sharp mouth ravishing yours. His kisses continued to be sharp, echoing his clear displeasure at your opinion of yourself. But you would not back down and submit to his kisses without a fight.

Growling beneath your breath, you reached up with a hand and slipped your fingers into his neatly combed hair. You tugged sharply on the chocolate strands, raking your nails across his scalp and pushed back against his aggressive action. Your mouths parted against each other, and you nearly caved beneath the heat and taste of him.

But you were a very stubborn Omega, hence why you were masquerading as a Beta, and you would not give in that easily. Further winding your fingers through his hair, you pulled hard, breaking your mouths apart and dove in to press a line of kisses along his jawline. The scent of sandalwood and jasmine wafted into your nose and that only increased your greediness to explore his skin. You wanted it all and you were sure that you would never get sick of the scent.

With your lips brushing across Zemo’s jawline, you took in a deep breath to inhale as much of his natural scent. Gods you wanted to smother yourself in it. You dragged your lips from his jaw to his neck and couldn’t help but run your tongue across the spot the lucky woman (or man, you didn’t discriminate) would sink their teeth into to mark their territory. That drew out a delicious groan from him and caused a purr to rumble deep within your chest. You could only smother your natural instincts so much.

But with your teasing came the end of Zemo’s patience. His hand darted up and wrapped around your wrist before wrenching your fingers from his hair and slamming it against the mirror beside your head. You let out a grunt from the force. Staring into Zemo’s soft brown eyes, you felt another shiver run up your spine at the look in his eye. Then the corner of his mouth curved upward triumphantly, and you knew that he knew you had finally broken.

His hand darted up into your hair and your lips were promptly dragged back to his, only this time he made sure he was in charge. Punishing kisses hard to keep up with, a hunger in his own actions that told you this was far from one sided, and that burning feeling in your chest that screamed at you: More! More! MORE!

You softly moaned beneath his dominance and clawed at his chest with your free hand, raking your nails down that luxurious sweater of his. You was sure he could feel the sharp points of your nails through the fabric, but your actions only seemed to spur him on further. Zemo slipped his fingers from your hair and dropped his hand to the scandalous slit on your left leg.

Warm fingers pressed into your chilled skin, caressing your skin and massaging themselves in an upwards motion. Then they traced the line of the thong you wore, and you couldn’t help but arch your back. Zemo dragged his lips from yours, drawing a small mewl from your stinging lips before he dipped his head and planted his mouth against your heaving cleavage.

The heat from his mouth against your skin was nearly unbearable, and then Zemo licked a line up the curve of your breast that your dress didn’t cover. Gasping, your body erupted with chills that raced across your skin rapidly turning every cell in your body into a place of sweltering bliss. You were so hot and so cold, the two temperatures fighting over which one reigned in your body. You were consumed.

The wrist he had pinned to the mirror jerked against his hold as you whimpered quietly. Zemo shushed your soft utterances, nuzzling your electrified skin and whispering your whines away with indiscernible assurances in his mother tongue. You bit your lip at the desire building deep within your body and the light scent of arousal that wafted in the air incriminatingly.

Zemo’s lips finally sealed over a section of your skin, his mouth sucking a mark into the side of your breast. You strained against his unbreakable grip, your body lifting from the mirror to twist against his, hushed moans barely escaping your pressed lips. But his mouth teasing you wasn’t enough for him, because while you were nearly overwhelmed with his mouth, his fingers were tantalizingly tracing your hip in swirling patterns.

 Your body was working itself up into a frenzy, just from his light touches, and your thong getting wetter with each passing second. Oh my God, this man was lethal. You wanted him like nothing you had before, with frightening desperation. Want was turning to need.

When teeth sank into your skin, you couldn’t help the small yelp that passed through your lips. Fearing that one of the attendants would come investigating the sounds coming from the changing room, you released his shirt and slapped your hand across your mouth. The sting from the bite was soothed by a tongue, but only for a moment, that dastardly mouth was now on your neck, pulling on your skin once more.

He was leaving marks were everyone could see.

Fire blazed beneath your skin at the thought and instincts had you wrapping one of your long legs around his hip and pulling his body infinitely closer to yours. Your pelvises crashed together and that drew a groan from him. A low growl rumbled in Zemo’s chest and lips tore free from your neck.

Dark eyes met yours and a quiver went up your spine at the look in them. Removing your hand from your mouth, you slid your fingers up his neck to the nape of his neck and forced his mouth back down to yours, chasing after those dizzying kisses. At your demand for more, Zemo’s mouth turned ferocious, savoring every response your body made to his actions.

Never enough, it was never enough, and that idea scared you shitless. But you couldn’t stop, not even as the oxygen in your lungs slowly ran out from rabid kisses and your refusal to part from your fervent lip lock.

It was only when the voices of the attendants floating through the closed curtain, that you parted, and by then you were panting for air and shaking slightly, nearly limp as a cooked noddle. Zemo, luckily, held you pinned to the mirror, releasing your wrist to brush a section of your hair that had fallen from your bun, behind your ear.

While you stared up into his now gentle brown eyes, Zemo leaned forwards and pressed a light dusting of kisses across your flushed cheeks. Your heavy breathing faded and still the kisses continued, trailing across your cheek bone to the skin beneath your ear. Then you heard him respond to your last spoken words: I don’t want you.

“We both know you do.”

Date Published: 7/21/22

Last Edit: 7/21/22

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[lumpsbumpsandwhumps]

@whumpbump Okay I know you probably meant Whumper pushing Whumpee down the stairs but I couldn't resist my love for stairwells and chase scenes so --

--

You slammed your shoulder into the metal door, crying out in frustration when it didn't immediately give to your frantic pounding. The alcohol in your veins still dulled your coordination, making it all the more difficult to pry open the entry down to the stairs. There was no time to wait for the elevator. No time to wait for the cops that surely had to have been called by now from someone else on this floor, at least to file a noise complaint against those rowdy, drunk kids making a ruckus all night.

"Open, open," you begged into the air. You rammed against the metal again and again, each hit making your shoulder throb, the last one threatening to dislocate the joint if you abused it much long. "Fucking open!"

The weight on the other side finally gave way, allowing you to shove the blockage just enough to slip through the gap. You prayed your pursuer wouldn't be able to fit in the narrow opening, though you doubted he'd have much trouble fully slamming the stuck door wide open. Betraying your moment of reprieve, you dared to look back and gauge the distance between yourself and the stalker, kept safe only by a doorway and several flights of stairs.

Instead, what you saw was the body of the building's janitor hastily shoved between the wall and door. Blood drenched the entire front of his uniform, his head angled down to hide the near decapitation of his neck. Instantly, your hands flew to your mouth to catch the scream clawing up your throat, or perhaps the stifle the gag that risked you vomiting on a poor man's already desecrated corpse. You stumbled backwards in an attempt to get away from yet another victim of a psychopath.

Perhaps that wasn't your best move on such a narrow landing. The concrete had become slick from the cooling pools of blood that lazily spread out and dripped to the stairs below. You felt your heel catch on the lip of the step, causing you to stumble, but the sudden shift in your weight made your foot slip in viscera and send you careening backwards. Another yelp was muffled in your chest, the air in your lungs being stolen before you could utter a sound.

The concrete steps were unforgiving in their beating. Sharp angles dug into all the tender spots of your flesh as you landed on each one, rolling from your back to your side and back again. Your knees and elbows sent tingling pains through every limb as the nerve was struck. No matter how desperately you threw out your hands to catch something, they would always instinctively pull back and try to protect your head from being split open. They didn't do much good when your chin smacked against the edge of a step, making your teeth painfully crack together and slicing your lower lip on an incisor.

The taste of blood was hot and bitter in your mouth, welling up in the back of your throat like bile. As much as you wanted to spit it out, another hit to your stomach left you wheezing, trying to suck in air that refused to stay down. Your world was a dizzying view of white stained walls and grey concrete, spinning round and doubling in vision with each bump to the head and chest you endured. When you finally came to a sprawling stop at the bottom of the story, it took a moment for your surrounds to cease their moving as well.

Finally, you coughed, pulling yourself onto your side so that you didn't choke on the globs of blood that splattered by your cheek. A sharp ringing deafened you, helping to dull the pain that pulsated through your body in tandem with your heartbeats. The relief didn't last long, agony instantly flaring in every muscle when you tried to roll onto your stomach in a foolish attempt to crawl onto your knees. One sharp ache in your hip refused to settle into a throb like all the others. With clumsy hands, you felt around the area until you brushed against a hard, jagged piece of glass that been impaled deep into the tissue. You pressed your other hand onto the ground in an effort to gain so leverage, only to yank it back with a hiss. More glass shards, thankfully smaller, had been imbedded in your palm. Litter that the janitor had probably been in the midst of picking up.

Despite being able to breathe now, as labored as it was, the only sounds you could muster were whimpers for help. The sound was pathetic and keening; you knew no one would be able to hear them, let alone think to check the stairwell for an injured tenant on the run from a madman. You couldn't stop, you had to keep going, you had to get away and warn everyone and find refuge. You had to survive.

But luck was not on your side, as evident by the splotches of red and purple on almost every inch of skin. From above, you heard two heavy bangs against solid metal following the sound of something dropping on the floor. The reverb in the stairwell made your throbbing headache scream louder, screwing your eyes close to ward off any tears that risked blurring your vision worse than what it already was. When you opened them again, you could see the janitor's head peaking between the railing his body having been toppled over onto his side. Thick streams of coagulated blood dripped to the landing below, mere inches from your nose.

You were more concerned by the looming figure that observed you over the same railing. Unbothered by the body he had shoved out of the way, he tilted his head with faux fascination at the sight of you sprawled on the ground and struggling to move. There was no telling what kind of sadistic joy was hidden behind the gaping black eyeholes of the madman's mask, or perhaps he was disappointed that his prey had taken the fun of the chase away due to their own incompetence. A shot of adrenaline kickstarted your heart into overdrive, worsening the pain that beat from your skull to your feet.

There was no time to recover any longer. The man begin to descend the stairs one leisurely step at a time, letting the stomp of his boots echo like a warning siren as he grew closer. You both knew there was no need to hurry, it wasn't like you'd be going anywhere any time soon, enough so that the knife was sheathed back into the pocket on his thigh. Every fiber of your being urged you to flee, anything to save yourself from a miserable death that probably wouldn't even be remembered in the stalker's kill count. As much as you would have loved to scramble up and sprint down the remaining five staircases, then best you could muster was an agonizing crawl towards the next flight of stairs.

You hoped gravity would be kind and swift carrying you down on your belly to the lower levels. It couldn't be any worse than what you were sure to experience otherwise.

[autumnvine]

Accidental Love

Summary- Everything seemed normal at first, until the Chituari destroyed your world.

Tw: War, fighting, violence.

New York was always busy, there was no down time for the city, there wasn't much excitement. There was always people on the street, running in central park or having coffee, always someone having to wait for a bus, someone in a new suit with a briefcase in hand going to a meeting with other colleagues discussing and arguing their points for hours on end. And then there was you, always having the same routine, waking up at six, getting dressed, brushing your teeth and hair, walking your high heels down the same grey pathed street with the matching bag to your shoe.  Walking into the same coffee shop, having a poppyseed bagel with creme cheese, blueberry muffin with a large flat white latte to go. The brown paper bag holding your muffin stuffed less gracefully then you planned into your handbag.

You didn't work far just a few streets down which gave you plenty of time to finish your latte. Waiting to cross the street, staring at the green traffic light shifting from one foot to the other slightly swaying as you listened to Dolly Parton blasting through your headphones,

"Tumble outta bed and I stumble to the kitchen

Pour myself a cup of ambition

And yawn and stretch and try to come to life

Jump in the shower and the blood starts pumpin

Out on the street the traffic starts jumpin

The folks like me on the job from nine to five"

Noticing the red traffic light you walked across the street, down the hill, tripping over the same kirb each morning, into your work, greeting the security guard on the main entrance swiping your keycard, the lift out of order which was not ideal when you work on the seventh floor, that's fourteen individual flights of stairs in stilletos. Eventually reaching your floor sitting at your desk and trying to focus on the pile of papers that awaited your attention. Hours into your collection of paperwork the pile was getting smaller and smaller, alot of emails sent, replied, sent and replied to. Various phone calls to offices in the tri-state area, listening to business man after busines man trying to argue and offer you new solutions to which you weren't interested in hearing. Your clients trusted and needed yyou, from day one on the job you swore to do right by them. Sure it got long and often annoying it still brought you great satisfaction knowing in some smqall way you were helping. You pushed through your lunch break, with nearing the end of your shift having a few files left to tend to you took a break, standing, walking over to the window looking onto the skyscrapers admiring the sun breaking through the clouds, a faint darkness appearing in the sky, becoming bigger and bigger, what appeared to be a light blue electric stream beaming up from a building into the sky, watching as a golden metalic aliens crawl through the darkness. Turning to run grabbing your phone and your bag shouting to your collegues down the hallway to leave the building as you ran, the sky suddenly filling with aliens, stilletos were not good shoes to wear when taking to the stairs. Shots were being fired through the other buildings, feeling the rumbling underfoot, the stairs begain shaking, above your had fell some dust and paint flakes, your co-workers nearly trampling you as they shoved passed, the whole stairwell shaking more and more became too much, reaching the fourth floor a man much much bigger then you shoved you to the floor, crawling into the fourth floor hall to escape the masses. It was empty, paperwork, bags, random shoes everywhere. Standng up by the window seeing massive metalic aliens swarm the streets of your city, noticing a tall man, long dark hair, golden helmet and green robes, riding the monsters that threatened your existance past the window, something almost shooting him out of the sky, blowing up, blasting him and you across the town, him landing somewhere on the building across, you however falling further and further down toward the street you walked across this morning, now filled with rubble, screaming as you fell toward almost certain death you stopped falling, landing on the floor ontop a metal sheild red, white and blue, you had heard stories of the super soldier, thinking only of myth and legend but today saving your life. Smaller aliens apearing around you and the soldier

"Stay down, stay behind me,  it'll be okay" he shouted to you, punching each one away, fighting to save you, when it stopped, the aliens falling, almost as if they were switched off suddenly, the others falling from the sky, it was over, the fighting stopped. Reaching his hand out to you helping you stand

"Are you alright ma'am?" the super soldier asked

"You saved me, thank you" replying in disbelief of what happened and who was standing infront of you, collapsing underfoot he caught you in his arms.

Waking up in an unknown bed, not knowing how long it had been, or what happened or where you were, you got up to look, noticing your shoes were missing, your leg bandaged up, as were your hands. Walking barefoot along a metal floor, through each door leading to another hallway noone around, trying to navigate your way around you found a room, door labelled "Holding Facility" going in hoping to find someone. Instead finding a clear container, yellow pipes everywhere, boxes in each corner stacked ontop of one another. Following the path around the glass room, finding the man who was flying past you, riding the aliens that destroyed your home, sitting with his back to you,

"Are you alright?" not knowing who he was you asked anyway. The man turning to face you smiling

"There's not many people who can sneek up on me"

"It's you, you're the one who fell with me, pardon me but where are we?"

"I am where I'm meant to be" Loki snapped

"Who are you?" almost afraid to ask

"I am Loki, King of Asgard and I am burdened with glorious purpose" realising you were in the presence of royalty you bowed, Loki smiling as he watched

"What do they want with me? With us? What were the monsters that came here?"

"The Chituari" Loki answered just one question of the three you asked him

"Do you know-" stopping yourself from speaking as you looked at him "Loki you're bleeding, your head, you're hurt." lifting his fingers to his head wiping away a few droplets of blood, as you tried to push the doors open, "How do I get this open? You need help."  Loki standing with the same grin across his face

"Who are you and what are you doing?" A voice bellowed from behind you, startled you spun around

"I'm Yn I woke up here, I got lost trying to find someone, I found Loki, he's hurt, he's bleeding. Please don't hurt me."

"Yn come away from him, he's dangerous."

"Yn I need help, they'll kill you, I can protect you, first you just have to push that button to open the door." Loki gently spoke to you from behind.

Unsure of what to do, You pressed the button releasing Loki from the glass cell, after all he was bleeding and they left him

"Nooo" Thor shouted swinging his hamer pushing Loki back into the cell." The doors closed behind him,

"Are you ever not going to fall for that brother?" Loki remarked standing by you and not in the cell.

By the door out appears the soldier who saved you, a lady with short firery red hair in a black suit, a man in a red armoured suit, and a man tall with an eye patch with a gun, scratch scars down the eye with the patch. All staring at you

"Let her go Loki" shouted the soldier

"I'm not keeping her" answered Loki "You see, she understands loyalty to a King"

"We can't let you leave here, you know that Loki"

Walking over to the side getting a cloth from hanging over the banister you handed it to Loki "Here, for your head"

Somewhere in your head none of this made sense, but in your heart it felt right. Standing by Loki felt right. Seeing them all standing there looking at you felt uneasy, threatening. This morning you were going to work, now you stood in a room of super soldiers, army men, King's and fighters. The lady pointed her gun at Loki"I wouldn't do that if I were you" Loki laughed "Look how far that's gotten you, look at how it turned out the first time.

The Chituari destroyed it, all of it, now here you are standing trying to stop me leaving when your world is crumbling, people are dieing, crushed by buildings you build. You want to pick fight with a God, what kind of hero's are you?"

"He's right, he can't cause any more damage, they need our help. There dying out there. We'll be back for you."

"Oh I don't doubt it."

" Loki what is Asgard?"

"Dont worry love you'll see"

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Anyone besides me want JackHarding A/B/O Heat Sex? Because you're getting it.

(This goes along with my general idea for JackHarding A/B/O. Chick's an Alpha from a long line; Jack's an Omega who has spent a lot of time being told he doesn't really SEEM like an Omega, they're cops in love.)

Jack's standing with two other air execs at a so-called strategy meeting that has devolved into taking over the hotel bar when a breeze ripples through the room, and both men who were previously listening to Jack go very still and a little glassy-eyed. Jack turns to check behind them, wondering what's caught their attention, and when he turns back, one of the men is a step closer, well up into Jack's personal space. He takes a step back. "Excuse you," he says. 

The man blinks and takes his own step back. "Shit. Sorry. Um." He shakes his head like he's clearing cobwebs, and the other air exec does the same. "Sorry, man. I just haven't smelled an Omega on the verge in a while. Got away from myself."

"What–Oh, fuck," Jack mutters. He looks around the room, planning a very quick exit. "If you'll excuse me," he says. 

"We'll talk to you later," the second man says, pulling his friend away. Jack barely notices, focused on getting out of the room. If he's smelling good enough to distract someone, his heat's about to hit like a goddamn train. He spots Chick halfway across the room, and just the sight of him gives him a clawing urge in his belly that makes him bite back a gasp. Goddamnit. He hates when this happens, when the Omega instincts climb up and try to take over. 

Jack looks around for anything to help muffle his scent. There's nothing useful nearby, and he thinks about how Lemmons smears oil and grease over his scent glands when the replacements are getting a little too close. He ducks behind a large plant and dips two fingers in his whiskey, rubbing the liquor against his glands, then slamming the rest of his drink and lighting up a cigarette. He needs to get out of here before anyone else gets a whiff of him. He can go to the room and call down to the desk, have someone deliver a message to Chick to meet him upstairs ASAP. Then Chick will show up and maybe he'll growl at the smell of him. Maybe he'll grab Jack and hold him still, make Jack be a good Omega until Jack's ready to do it all by himself. 

Oh, yeah, this heat's coming on hard.

He walks across the floor with his eyes on the exit and breathes a sigh of relief as he makes it out of the ballroom. He pauses for a moment to see if there's a crowd around the elevator, and in that moment, Chick walks up beside him. Because of course he does. Because he's Chick, and Jack's Jack, and the one time they both tried to ignore the way they gravitated towards each other, they failed spectacularly and fell in love instead.

"What is it?" he asks, voice a warm rumble. "You're moving like your ass is on fire." 

Jack opens his mouth to explain, but then Chick's suddenly herding him into a small alcove covered with a heavy drape and shoving his face in Jack's neck. Jack shakes as Chick breathes him deep.

"Jesus, are you in heat?" Chick hisses. He drags his mouth over Jack's scent gland and stops cold. He breathes out hard before pushing away from Jack and meeting his eyes. "How?"

"Suppressants failed," Jack says. The little alcove is filling with their combined scents, and Jack swears his teeth itch. Chick smells like the classic Alpha he is: cedarwood and black pepper and ginger; the lingering scent of his cigar just enhances all of it, and a surge of need hits Jack hard. He bares his throat even as he clenches his hands into fists so he doesn't reach out and take. "Chick," he hisses. 

Chick is against him again, pressed full body into Jack and pulling Jack's head down so he can bury his mouth against Jack's neck and suck hard on his scent gland. "Can you make it to our room?" he asks. "We can take the stairs. It's only two flights."

"I–" Jack presses his mouth behind Chick's ear and grabs at his waist, pulling Chick impossibly closer so he can rub against him. "I need–I just need–"

"Hold on. Hold on," Chick says. He tries to get a hand between them, and Jack growls against his neck. Chick chuckles and manages to get a hand around each of Jack's wrist. "God, of course you're fighting to get what you want," he says, sounding so fond that Jack immediately relaxes. "Good," Chick, soothes, rubbing his thumbs back and forth on Jack's wrists as he lowers Jack's arms to his sides. "I'm gonna get you off, take the edge off, and then we'll get upstairs. You understand me?"

"Yeah," Jack says. "Yes. Please. Please."

Chick opens Jack's trousers and reaches into his shorts. He groans when he wraps his hand around Jack's dick. "Jesus, you're so warm," he says. He lowers himself to his knees and uses his free hand to push Jack's shorts down so he can get the head of his cock into his mouth. 

Jack bucks his hips, but Chick's got an arm across him so he can't move too much. Jack whines and scrabbles for Chick's shoulder. Chick sucks him hard and messy, no teasing like he tends to enjoy when he and Jack have the time. He slips his hand up and down Jack's shaft as far as he can reach, and he tongues Jack's slit over and over. 

Jack comes with a shuddering gasp. He whines when Chick stands up and tucks him away, pushing his face against Chick's shoulder as he holds his own hands tightly so he doesn't try to reach out. 

"Better?" Chick asks.

"Barely," Jack admits. Chick's hand is warm and heavy on his neck, and Jack goes limp at the feeling. Alpha Alpha Alpha his mind repeats in a happy trill. "Chick," he murmurs. "Chick, I don't–we don't–"

"I've got rubbers," Chick says. "Don't worry. You won't be knocked up just yet."

Jack laughs and manages to pull away from Chick a little. Chick doesn't take his hand off his neck. It keeps Jack in the moment, helps him concentrate. "Okay," he says. 

"Your pupils are already widening again," Chick says. "Let's get you tucked away before half the ballroom smells you and comes to fight for the chance to take care of you."

"Wouldn't let them," Jack murmurs as Chick pushes the curtain to one side. He lets Chick lead him out of the alcove and over the stairwell, feeling a sense of relief when the door shuts behind them. "Wouldn't let them," he repeats as Chick leads him up the stairs. 

Chick pauses on the landing and pulls Jack against him. "I know," he says. "You're a prickly fucker, and none of them could appreciate you." He kisses Jack, soft and sweet, lets Jack chase after him for a second, then a third. "Come on," he says, and he leads Jack up the rest of the stairs and into the hallway of their floor. Their room is three doors down, and Chick unlocks the door as Jack lists against him, the scent coming off him making Chick's blood hot. 

"Here," Chick says, throwing open the door. He hooks an arm around Jack's waist and drags him into the room, kicking the door behind him. Jack doesn't even react to the slam of it. He walks to the bed and drops down hard, fingers fumbling at his buttons.

"Easy," Chick says, walking over. He takes Jack's hands in his and kisses each palm. "I'll do it."

"Hurry," Jack says. His eyes are glassed over, and there's sweat at his temples. Chick kisses him there to taste him. Jack's scent is roaring to the surface: Ink and lilies and the sharp, cold smell of wind before it snows. It's undercut with a sweetness that Chick's never smelled because in the months they've been together, Jack's never had a heat. Chick had assumed this wasn't something he'd experience until after the war.

Chick finishes getting Jack stripped, then hurriedly strips himself. Jack scoots up on the bed and lays with his hands above his head with his legs wide open, eyes half-lidded and dick hard as it was in the alcove. 

"Didn't know you could possibly get better looking," Chick says. Jack blushes all down his chest and stretches his neck long and lovely to one side. "Oh, I am going to devour you," Chick says, Alpha instincts going white hot at the way Jack's sending every happy Omega signal he possibly can. Chick runs his hands over Jack's calves and squeezes just below his knees. "Just a second," he says. He takes a step back, and Jack whines, high and desperate. "Easy," Chick murmurs as he picks up his toiletries bag and takes out the rubbers he's packed. He tosses them on the bedside table, then he climbs into bed next to Jack and leads him into a kiss. 

Jack mewls and undulates against Chick. Chick grabs Jack's thigh and pulls it over his own hip, then he reaches down between Jack's cheeks and drags his fingers down Jack's cleft. He's soaked with slick and starts to whine continuously when Chick massages his hole with his knuckles.

"Please," Jack says. "Please. Alpha. Please."

Chick shudders in pleasure at hearing Jack beg. He never does usually, not unless they're in a teasing mood. "Say it again," he says. 

"Please. Please. Alpha Please. Alpha."

Chick pushes one finger into Jack, and Jack arches against him, his dick hot and hard on Chick's stomach. Chick pushes a second finger in, and Jack gasps and grabs his arm and comes all over Chick's belly. 

Chick moves his fingers in and out slowly as Jack pants against his throat and rubs his cheek hard against Chick's collarbone, scent marking him before tucking his face against Chick's neck again and licking his scent gland. 

"Chick," Jack slurs, and the kiss on Chick's gland is so gentle and sweet, and Chick wants to tell him to bite down. But they agreed a long time ago, war's no place to formally mate with each other. Even on the ground they're too damn busy to take proper time away to let the bond settle with just the two of them. 

"Please," Jack says against Chick's throat. "Do it." 

"Say it," Chick says. "Tell me what you want." He laughs when Jack nips his scent gland. "Keep that up, and I'll go off before I get inside you," he says. 

"No," Jack whimpers. 

Chick rubs his cheek into Jack's hair, scenting him as he pushes a third finger in. Jack makes a noise in the back of his throat and pushes back against Chick's fingers. "That's it," Chick says, meeting Jack's thrusts with a counter thrust so his fingers get good and deep. He holds them still after a few thrusts and focuses on rubbing Jack's prostate, sucking the sweat off the long line of Jack's neck as he grinds down and moans and comes for a second time on Chick's stomach. 

Jack's head clears, and he sighs when Chick removes his fingers. "Come back," he murmurs. 

"I am," Chick says against his temple. He kisses Jack there, then stretches to reach a rubber.

Jack buries his face in Chick's chest and breathes him in, the smell of his own spunk on Chick's skin making him mewl in pleasure. "Mine," Jack says.

"All yours," Chick replies, and he tucks his hands behind his head as Jack touches him on his belly and his chest and his shoulders. "Enjoying yourself?"

Jack hums an affirmative and nuzzles Chick's bicep, then presses his nose into the bend of his elbow and breathes in deep. "Mine," he says again, then bites lightly. 

"Come here, sweetheart," Chick says. Jack lets Chick manhandle him into his lap–something he very rarely allows any other time. Chick opens the rubber and rolls it down his cock. 

Jack reaches back and takes Chick's cock in his own hand, leads it to his hole and sinks down in one thrust. 

"Jesus," Chick grunts. 

Jack squeezes around Chick's cock and grinds his hips back and forth a few times just to watch the way Chick's eyes flutter. He spreads his hands on Chick's belly and sighs in pleasure when Chick digs his fingers into his thighs. 

"Show me what you got," Chick says, all cocky grin and bright eyes. "I've been wondering what you fuck like during a heat."

"Tell me," Jack replies. He means it to come out a command, but it's soft and breathy, almost a plea. The proper tone for a proper Omega, a tone Jack has never traded in. 

"Well, that's new," Chick says, and he drags his hands up Jack's sides. "Won't pretend I don't like hearing you be a little demure. Do it again." 

Chick's voice is all Alpha authority and command, and Jack shivers from his head to his toes to have it directed at him like this. "Please tell me more," he says, and Chick meets his downward thrust with an upward one of his own. "Please," he says, and he lets his mouth hang open after, lets the Omega instinct to be supple and submissive take over his brain.

"You're stunning," Chick says. "So easy for me, aren't you? So happy to take my knot."

"Alpha," Jack murmurs. "My Alpha. My Chick."

"Fucking right I am," Chick says. 

Jack shouts when Chick holds him still and pushes up into him hard. He topples forward, crowded on Chick's chest with his hands trapped under him. He sucks on Chick's chest, desperate to mark his Alpha as Chick wraps his arms tight around his waist and holds him where he wants him as he fucks into him over and over. 

Jack finishes leaving a mark and manages to get his hands free so he can grab onto Chick's shoulders and simply hold on. Chick is hot and sweaty all over, and Jack rubs his face into it, coating himself in Chick's scent. 

"Kiss me," Chick growls. 

Jack pushes himself up just enough to fit their mouths together. He slides his tongue along Chick's and groans in bone-deep pleasure when Chick takes one arm off his waist so he can grab Jack's hair and hold him in place as he sucks roughly on his tongue and thrusts in a few times more just as his knot starts to swell. 

When Chick's knot stretches in Jack, he whimpers and digs at Chick's shoulders, but Chick doesn't let go of his head, still kissing him even as he and Jack both come. 

Jack fades in and out for a few minutes, the heady feeling of a knot filling him even more pronounced due to his heat. He's aware of Chick rubbing his back and nuzzling his hair, of Chick murmuring encouragement for Jack to stretch his legs out so he doesn't get a cramp. Several minutes later, when Jack's aware enough to lift his head and meet Chick's gaze, he's met with a soft, bright look that makes him want to burrow into Chick and stay there. 

"Okay?" Chick asks. He's still running his hands up and down Jack's back. "We've got a few minutes still."

Jack lays his cheek on Chick's shoulder and curls a hand over Chick's bicep. "I'm good," he says. "Thanks for–" he closes his mouth, unsure what to say. 

Chick laughs quietly. "Thanks for fucking your brains out?" he asks. "Thanks for giving you four orgasms so far tonight? Thanks for packing rubbers even though we've never needed them?"

"That last one, at least," Jack says. He shifts a little, sliding off Chick's shoulder and onto his arm so they can see each other. Chick's knot shifts in Jack as he moves, and it makes him sigh in pleasure. "Why did you even pack them?"

"I honestly don't know," Chick says. "Maybe my instincts could tell you were off-kilter. My Alpha knew my Omega was going to need a little extra help."

Jack considers that. "Maybe," he says. "I've read that that can happen. But it's only been seen in mates."

"Well, in everything but bite, we are," Chick says.

"True," Jack replies, unable to tease Chick about something they both know to be completely true. He rubs his cheek against Chick's arm, and then Chick's angling down to kiss him, as sweet and soft as in the stairwell. Jack melts into it, loving the way Chick's hand covers his jaw. 

"You still all right?" Chick asks, running his thumb up and down the tendon of Jack's neck. 

"Great," Jack says. He squeezes on Chick's knot just to watch him gasp. "Absolutely great."

"I can tell," Chick says. He pulls on Jack's arm until Jack's settled atop him, arms on either side of Chick's head. "You gonna need to stay up here tomorrow?" he asks. 

"Likely not," Jack says. He combs his fingers through Chick's hair, scratching his scalp lightly. Chick holds him around the waist and tips his head into Jack's hands. "If it's like the other times the suppressants have failed, it'll be over as quick as it came on. I'll probably be okay in the morning." 

"Hmm," Chick hums, "We should make the most of it, then. Don't know how long it'll be until I get you like this again."

"You like it?" Jack asks, giving Chick his best smug grin. 

"Almost as much as I like you the rest of the time," Chick replies. 

Jack feels himself blush, and he wants to be annoyed that his heat makes it nearly impossible to hide his Omega reactions, but the way Chick's eyes light up at the sight of him makes him think maybe it's not that bad. Not with his Alpha.